I attended a writers club where we were told to write ten sentences starting with “I’ve learnt”. So here, twenty most interesting lessons I’ve learnt in the twenty short years of my not so long life.
1. I’ve learnt to stop worrying about who people think I am. Because it’s me, I own myself!
2. I’ve learnt that whatever I do doesn’t have to be sophisticated all the time, let’s go dumb!
3. I’ve learnt that weird is the new different.
4. I’ve learnt that trust is the first step to any relationship.
5. I’ve learnt to not take things at face value, it is necessary to differentiate between sweet nothings and genuine complements.
6. I’ve learnt to take it slow, because if you hurry, you flurry!
7. I’ve learnt that the cool “I don’t care” attitude is not cool any longer. I care because it’s about me!
8. I’ve learnt that the only debt one can’t repay is the gift of an understanding mother.
9. I’ve learnt to hold on to people despite misunderstandings. Because some relationships come a full circle.
10. I’ve learnt that important life lessons can only be learned through experience. Good luck, bad luck… who knows?
11. I’ve learnt that victory is sweet and easy to share. Defeat is an individual experience.
12. I’ve learnt to watch good movies. The small budget big win sorts. The true Indi win sorts.
13. I’ve learnt that love is a beautiful two way street.
14. I’ve learnt that one should drink to celebrate, not to get drunk. Barring the random kiss or drunk dialling the long gone ex is not cool.
15. I’ve learnt to raise a smile, not a fist, because I know the world expects the fist.
16. I’ve learnt to not be jealous of someone else’s beauty or covetous for someone else’s talents. I will bask in the beauty that I am and embrace the talent that I have.
17. I’ve learned that it’s mandatory to pick the cue; else the blame is on you.
18. I’ve learned that people change much like leaves. From tender green to bottle green and darker and darker. Some turn yellow in between, and then brown, then they catch fire to look dead gray.
19. I’ve learnt to hold on to my self-respect at all times. It’s wonderful to be nice, and I will. But no, not at the cost of people taking me for granted.
20. I’ve learned that what I will learn is more important than what I have learnt.
P.S. these are not just mere clichés.
Monday, 20 January 2014
Sunday, 5 January 2014
Me bad bad blogger dish, why did I post a post empty of New Year wish?
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Friday, 3 January 2014
Treasure trove
The story dates back to the time I was in third year of under graduation, the last year of college. Who back then would have thought I’d have to brave another two years of attendance threats, strictly-no-plagiarizing warnings and growing up? So, the super seniority stormed into my head, got under my skin and ran deep in the veins. I lived life like there’s no tomorrow. If you didn’t believe I’m crazy, here’s the proof.
While people sat to discuss career prospects and went between their exams to give a million entrances, I laid in bed, quilled cards, shopped, got told off, occasionally felt guilty, studied now and then, wrote, gave just 2 entrances (TISS and DU for social work. I didn’t give JNU. And I got looks) and ordered tons of food and bloated into a ball. I even distracted juniors by talking about dream men and engagement rings the night before an exam. I reminded myself of my high cool quotient, because I was interning with BASIX and was earning 6000RS per month, I had a super cool boyfriend, I am pretty and I was the super senior, thanks to previous years of borderline cleared attendance!
I passed third year unscathed with 35% attendance while 66.6% was compulsory. Hey, trust me, even I didn’t think that would happen. For some time, I thought I’d have to repeat that year and it didn’t seem too bad back then. Well, why would it seem bad to a carefree, pampered brat bestowed with parental riches? I don’t know where that confidence came from, because had I been detained, I’d be writing this post from my grave. All I understood back then was kinship, friendship, internship and… uhm… courtship!
I guess because there are no reasons for absolute madness!
Ahh-ohh! Confessed too much!
*
One humid day, sometime during the beginning of the session in July, while walking into the mess for lunch,
“Hi, do you need help?”
“Please” I said and caught onto her hand. “First year?”
“Yeah, you?”
“Third year” I paraded, surely she didn’t notice.
After a brief introduction and a hurried chat in Tamil over quick spoonfuls of kaddi chawal, before the afternoon classes, I invited her to my room that evening. And she turned up. I thought she was homesick and was looking for an elder sister in me. What all seniority can do to you!
But how can you blame me? That’s how I was when I was in my first year. I asked whether she was missing home and she said yes. See?
After a few crazy, intelligent conversations and my birthday dinner when my friends with much super seniority made her wash a dirty saucepan, we became buddies. We poked fun and cracked too many inside jokes. We became buddies, sisters, well; we had other plans as well.
So now, drums roll…
Introducing my sweetie sponsor… put your hands together for Anuradha Rao!
Because she has a lot to say about me!
*
The moments you can't put into words.
There are some moments that are terribly hard to describe. The amazement at a finished piece of quilling, the excitement on knowing you'll have south Indian food from Saravana Bhavan for dinner, the high feeling when you've laughed so much with a friend that you just can't laugh any more or the honour on being asked to write a guest post in the world's most entertaining blog.
It's difficult to explicitly explain these brilliant moments in words- they need to be lived. And I have lived them all. Lucky me right? I know you're probably thinking- what's in a few good moments? They come, they go, so what's the big deal? You couldn't have been more off the mark. It's this sequence of crazy, weird, mental, beautiful, once-in-a-lifetime moments that build unforgettable memories. And it helps if you have a crazy, weird, mental, beautiful, one-of-a-kind friend to share them with.
I can't even begin to describe how sad it is when a whole year of fun-filled happiness with a special person like this comes to an end. I've had to live with it every day of the past four months, and trust me, it's not easy. I don't speak of it often, because not many understand. Nobody else can appreciate the depth of that void without experiencing something like it.
So when I was asked to write this post, I jumped at the opportunity. But for a long time, I wondered. What do I write about? The topics suggested to me included Federer (oh, but that post would never end then) and the Beatles (there's nothing to write really- they need to be heard, not read about!). So then I decided I'd write about the time I spent with the person who suggested these topics in the first place. Who also happens to be the person who runs this blog, just by the way. It's not possible to put it all down in one post (not even a thousand page tome would suffice)- oh no, don't get me wrong.
It's not a problem to do with a space constraint at all. It's to do with not being able to express those intangibly amazing emotions in writing. Sometimes, words are just not enough.
By Anuradha Rao
*
Old gems digged!
While people sat to discuss career prospects and went between their exams to give a million entrances, I laid in bed, quilled cards, shopped, got told off, occasionally felt guilty, studied now and then, wrote, gave just 2 entrances (TISS and DU for social work. I didn’t give JNU. And I got looks) and ordered tons of food and bloated into a ball. I even distracted juniors by talking about dream men and engagement rings the night before an exam. I reminded myself of my high cool quotient, because I was interning with BASIX and was earning 6000RS per month, I had a super cool boyfriend, I am pretty and I was the super senior, thanks to previous years of borderline cleared attendance!
I passed third year unscathed with 35% attendance while 66.6% was compulsory. Hey, trust me, even I didn’t think that would happen. For some time, I thought I’d have to repeat that year and it didn’t seem too bad back then. Well, why would it seem bad to a carefree, pampered brat bestowed with parental riches? I don’t know where that confidence came from, because had I been detained, I’d be writing this post from my grave. All I understood back then was kinship, friendship, internship and… uhm… courtship!
I guess because there are no reasons for absolute madness!
Ahh-ohh! Confessed too much!
*
One humid day, sometime during the beginning of the session in July, while walking into the mess for lunch,
“Hi, do you need help?”
“Please” I said and caught onto her hand. “First year?”
“Yeah, you?”
“Third year” I paraded, surely she didn’t notice.
After a brief introduction and a hurried chat in Tamil over quick spoonfuls of kaddi chawal, before the afternoon classes, I invited her to my room that evening. And she turned up. I thought she was homesick and was looking for an elder sister in me. What all seniority can do to you!
But how can you blame me? That’s how I was when I was in my first year. I asked whether she was missing home and she said yes. See?
After a few crazy, intelligent conversations and my birthday dinner when my friends with much super seniority made her wash a dirty saucepan, we became buddies. We poked fun and cracked too many inside jokes. We became buddies, sisters, well; we had other plans as well.
So now, drums roll…
Introducing my sweetie sponsor… put your hands together for Anuradha Rao!
Because she has a lot to say about me!
*
The moments you can't put into words.
There are some moments that are terribly hard to describe. The amazement at a finished piece of quilling, the excitement on knowing you'll have south Indian food from Saravana Bhavan for dinner, the high feeling when you've laughed so much with a friend that you just can't laugh any more or the honour on being asked to write a guest post in the world's most entertaining blog.
It's difficult to explicitly explain these brilliant moments in words- they need to be lived. And I have lived them all. Lucky me right? I know you're probably thinking- what's in a few good moments? They come, they go, so what's the big deal? You couldn't have been more off the mark. It's this sequence of crazy, weird, mental, beautiful, once-in-a-lifetime moments that build unforgettable memories. And it helps if you have a crazy, weird, mental, beautiful, one-of-a-kind friend to share them with.
I can't even begin to describe how sad it is when a whole year of fun-filled happiness with a special person like this comes to an end. I've had to live with it every day of the past four months, and trust me, it's not easy. I don't speak of it often, because not many understand. Nobody else can appreciate the depth of that void without experiencing something like it.
So when I was asked to write this post, I jumped at the opportunity. But for a long time, I wondered. What do I write about? The topics suggested to me included Federer (oh, but that post would never end then) and the Beatles (there's nothing to write really- they need to be heard, not read about!). So then I decided I'd write about the time I spent with the person who suggested these topics in the first place. Who also happens to be the person who runs this blog, just by the way. It's not possible to put it all down in one post (not even a thousand page tome would suffice)- oh no, don't get me wrong.
It's not a problem to do with a space constraint at all. It's to do with not being able to express those intangibly amazing emotions in writing. Sometimes, words are just not enough.
By Anuradha Rao
*
Old gems digged!
Sunday, 15 December 2013
Sidekicks
… I make a truly fantastical sidekick!
After years of watching cartoons and bollywood and Mean Girls *sticks out her tongue*, I’ve realised that the role of the sidekick is kickass! No, honestly, can you imagine The Little Mermaid without Sebastian? Or Munna without Circuit? Circuit man! That guy! Now, tell me who’s funnier.
Munna – “Kya kar rila hai Circuit?
Circuit – “Bhai bulb pe baap ka naam likh rela hu”
Munna – “kyu?”
Circuit – “Bhai baap ka naam roshan karne ka hai na?”
Hahahahhahahahahahahahahahhahahahahaha! *giggles* Bhaat a joke sir ji, bhaat a joke!
But jokes apart, have you ever thought on those lines?
No? Bad sidekick you make!
Who likes the sidekick’s role? Mr. Sidekick is always sidelined. I mean, a life full of magic and misery? I get so confused man! So, strengthening my case:
• The sidekick plays the court jester role; she makes the good times roll. They clutch their stomach and sound out with great difficulty “haha…you…you…it…haha…ain’t…haha…gasp…fa…funny”! Sadly the sidekick doesn’t get the credits.
• The sidekick is so ordinary looking that she is told about other beautiful women. Come on, Circuit cared for his “bhai” and “bhaabi” more than his “jaan” who didn’t show up even during the end of Lage Raho Munna Bhai. Even Gandhi didn’t show himself to poor Circuit. Tsk tsk!
• The sidekicks always have ultra-gorgeous buddies.
• She trips over her own feet. But can’t remember being picked by Mr. Right.
• She says ridiculously silly things when she tries to be serious. She could be going pea-green with envy, but she ends up saying things like “I wish I could be the lucky dog” with a broad grin. Blow her someone, by George!
• She has memorable catch phrases. “Shut the fuck up!”, “Awesomeness”, “you won’t understand, it’s so deep!”, “you are smart and it has everything to do with your ass!”, “I like your mum, she’s really cute and I’d like to adopt her!” and many more.
• Sidekicks are peculiar. The sidekick typing to you has a peculiar laugh, ever heard a donkey bray?
• She tries to shake up the mood when the tension gets to be too much, like when the heroine is diffusing a bomb (studying for an exam or un-plagiarising an assignment), or hitting on a cute guy, or something equally as life changing and world saving!
• The sidekick gets nothing more than a handshake from a cute guy. Whenever my hand is shook by an insanely attractive gentleman, my legs turn to jelly and lose the ability of balancing, my hands shake and drop things, I turn scarlet and I prepare to liquefy while he hugs my pretty best friend and waves a goodbye! Well, she is confident and beautiful to hug him back!
• A general notion – the heroine is beautiful while the sidekick is available.
• The sidekick cooks well, the heroine bosses better!
• The sidekick has the highest cool quotient that is never noticed by anyone.
• The heroine usually has some tasks she hates to do, so the responsibility to complete said task falls to the sidekick, i.e. conveying messages. Oops! One wrong message conveyed, sidekick screwed! Even if it means telling a hot guy about the shady guy hitting on the heroine. Because the hot guy might or might not be the hero! How do you respond to questions like “why do I need to know”?
• The sidekick tends to talk a lot. That leaves cute guys with the impression that she never shuts up!
• The sidekick is either mini or huge. I’m huge.
• Dainty princesses have the capacity to grow cuter with alcohol. Sidekicks blackout!
• Sidekicks are either silhouetted or killed! Will I die before my buddies, or be their ex buddy? *shudders*
Hmm. I rest my case.
Lots of love from the sidekick zone!
After years of watching cartoons and bollywood and Mean Girls *sticks out her tongue*, I’ve realised that the role of the sidekick is kickass! No, honestly, can you imagine The Little Mermaid without Sebastian? Or Munna without Circuit? Circuit man! That guy! Now, tell me who’s funnier.
Munna – “Kya kar rila hai Circuit?
Circuit – “Bhai bulb pe baap ka naam likh rela hu”
Munna – “kyu?”
Circuit – “Bhai baap ka naam roshan karne ka hai na?”
Hahahahhahahahahahahahahahhahahahahaha! *giggles* Bhaat a joke sir ji, bhaat a joke!
But jokes apart, have you ever thought on those lines?
No? Bad sidekick you make!
Who likes the sidekick’s role? Mr. Sidekick is always sidelined. I mean, a life full of magic and misery? I get so confused man! So, strengthening my case:
• The sidekick plays the court jester role; she makes the good times roll. They clutch their stomach and sound out with great difficulty “haha…you…you…it…haha…ain’t…haha…gasp…fa…funny”! Sadly the sidekick doesn’t get the credits.
• The sidekick is so ordinary looking that she is told about other beautiful women. Come on, Circuit cared for his “bhai” and “bhaabi” more than his “jaan” who didn’t show up even during the end of Lage Raho Munna Bhai. Even Gandhi didn’t show himself to poor Circuit. Tsk tsk!
• The sidekicks always have ultra-gorgeous buddies.
• She trips over her own feet. But can’t remember being picked by Mr. Right.
• She says ridiculously silly things when she tries to be serious. She could be going pea-green with envy, but she ends up saying things like “I wish I could be the lucky dog” with a broad grin. Blow her someone, by George!
• She has memorable catch phrases. “Shut the fuck up!”, “Awesomeness”, “you won’t understand, it’s so deep!”, “you are smart and it has everything to do with your ass!”, “I like your mum, she’s really cute and I’d like to adopt her!” and many more.
• Sidekicks are peculiar. The sidekick typing to you has a peculiar laugh, ever heard a donkey bray?
• She tries to shake up the mood when the tension gets to be too much, like when the heroine is diffusing a bomb (studying for an exam or un-plagiarising an assignment), or hitting on a cute guy, or something equally as life changing and world saving!
• The sidekick gets nothing more than a handshake from a cute guy. Whenever my hand is shook by an insanely attractive gentleman, my legs turn to jelly and lose the ability of balancing, my hands shake and drop things, I turn scarlet and I prepare to liquefy while he hugs my pretty best friend and waves a goodbye! Well, she is confident and beautiful to hug him back!
• A general notion – the heroine is beautiful while the sidekick is available.
• The sidekick cooks well, the heroine bosses better!
• The sidekick has the highest cool quotient that is never noticed by anyone.
• The heroine usually has some tasks she hates to do, so the responsibility to complete said task falls to the sidekick, i.e. conveying messages. Oops! One wrong message conveyed, sidekick screwed! Even if it means telling a hot guy about the shady guy hitting on the heroine. Because the hot guy might or might not be the hero! How do you respond to questions like “why do I need to know”?
• The sidekick tends to talk a lot. That leaves cute guys with the impression that she never shuts up!
• The sidekick is either mini or huge. I’m huge.
• Dainty princesses have the capacity to grow cuter with alcohol. Sidekicks blackout!
• Sidekicks are either silhouetted or killed! Will I die before my buddies, or be their ex buddy? *shudders*
Hmm. I rest my case.
Lots of love from the sidekick zone!
Friday, 13 December 2013
To a couple happily married and leisurely repenting
Few hours ago, in a galaxy far, far away, a beautiful picture was clicked with five ultra-gorgeous people smiling away at the camera. Sheer bliss. The picture wasn’t about the pose, the clothes or the background, but about an irrational yet immense desire to catch, lock and keep safe, the happiness that a mere picture and a mere smile will never be able to contain. Well, that’s how the moment was planned, a way of holding onto happiness.
Oh shit! We left our fucking evidence! How now?
Oh, and, I should just stop being modest. Not everyone in the picture is ultra-gorgeous, but they are sorely beautiful. And it wasn’t a galaxy far, far away; it was on a podium with the bride and her groom in a wedding.
So, life on campus had gotten on our nerves. Seriously, TISS can put trees to sleep! After days of great depression and the result that is rumoured to be expected every tomorrow, the tension got to be too much while I decided to shake up the mood. I needed a merry long night.
“You look fine. In fact, presentable.”
“Not good enough for a wedding.”
Every nice looking woman is presentable for a man; I was dressed in jegings and a T. It was a moment of life changing decision making for me. After three seconds of thinking, I jumped up at the opportunity like a hapless puppy! After all, I asked for it. So what law to be scared of?
Sometimes I have epic realisations; it isn’t a good idea to go alone with a guy. How do we answer all the stares and glares and questioning expressions? Weddings aren’t a joke, are they?
So we roped another guy in.
“What?”
Ok, he’s going to say no.
“Let’s try.”
Hurray! Yoyo! Lalaalalalala!
Because people who don’t give into adventures are a menace to society. I would have cursed him with a horrible death at hundred surrounded by cockroaches and slugs. How can anyone deny a wedding invitation?
So we were three. Nothing to worry about. No one will suspect. We walked out of the gate with conjured bravado, and vowed to accomplish our mission.
After wandering for quarter of an hour, we successfully set foot on the red carpet, sans red noses! We mingled in the crowd and picked our plates.
We feasted on pani puris, ragda patties, Sarson da saag te makkhi di roti, puris, mixed veg, matar paneer, zeera rice, dal, dosas, papad, salad, ice-cream with chocolate sauce, gajar ka halva and gulabjamoon! Oh man, believe me; I pulled myself up with ease after all the stuffing. Digestion wasn’t difficult with simultaneous thinking and putting up an act. I was on a roll!
I remembered what we were discussing while walking to our destination.
“So, whom do we kill?”
“The guy. He’s ugly!”
The third member of the Gatecrash Association piped up “but the girl isn’t all that great either, I can’t see her structure!”
We were clutching our stomach in helpless fits of laughter! Had the groom been handsome, I would have murdered the bride and taken her place. Had the bride been pretty, the guys would have killed the groom and like Pandava brothers, they would have shared her.
Man! Men and their cheeky comments! Have a cheesy night, men!
After the food, we walked up the podium for a click. I hugged the bride and pored love. I wished her genuinely and posed with a mile broad smile. Who would have thought I could? Holy moly guacamole! They didn’t even ask who we were! She could have at least asked for my name! I had to resist the urge to whisper in her ear “we are gatecrashers babe, stop being so nice” with a great difficulty. But the guys had a great conversation next to the groom.
“We are leaving our fucking evidence!”
“Shut the fuck up!”
And the groom overheard! Ohmygosh bigosh!
I wished the couple again, they reciprocated the friendly gesture. At least they have our best wishes. Lord Lyttton, let them be happily married and they can leisurely repent together!
We took the photographer’s number. We’ll get our picture soon. That moment clicked at 22:12 hours on the 12th of December 2013 was perfect, and I have only a memory of it. But that is enough for cheering me up at points of depression! No, seriously, I really want young, decent gatecrashers attending my wedding, because its right when they say one should always feed the hungry.
So we successfully flew below the radar, and it’s a paradise there. We were visible enough to freeload food but invisible for people to remember us. Cheers to our newly discovered talent! *doffs hat* gosh I’m happier than the couple on their marriage!
Can you say spectacular?
Oh shit! We left our fucking evidence! How now?
Oh, and, I should just stop being modest. Not everyone in the picture is ultra-gorgeous, but they are sorely beautiful. And it wasn’t a galaxy far, far away; it was on a podium with the bride and her groom in a wedding.
So, life on campus had gotten on our nerves. Seriously, TISS can put trees to sleep! After days of great depression and the result that is rumoured to be expected every tomorrow, the tension got to be too much while I decided to shake up the mood. I needed a merry long night.
“You look fine. In fact, presentable.”
“Not good enough for a wedding.”
Every nice looking woman is presentable for a man; I was dressed in jegings and a T. It was a moment of life changing decision making for me. After three seconds of thinking, I jumped up at the opportunity like a hapless puppy! After all, I asked for it. So what law to be scared of?
Sometimes I have epic realisations; it isn’t a good idea to go alone with a guy. How do we answer all the stares and glares and questioning expressions? Weddings aren’t a joke, are they?
So we roped another guy in.
“What?”
Ok, he’s going to say no.
“Let’s try.”
Hurray! Yoyo! Lalaalalalala!
Because people who don’t give into adventures are a menace to society. I would have cursed him with a horrible death at hundred surrounded by cockroaches and slugs. How can anyone deny a wedding invitation?
So we were three. Nothing to worry about. No one will suspect. We walked out of the gate with conjured bravado, and vowed to accomplish our mission.
After wandering for quarter of an hour, we successfully set foot on the red carpet, sans red noses! We mingled in the crowd and picked our plates.
We feasted on pani puris, ragda patties, Sarson da saag te makkhi di roti, puris, mixed veg, matar paneer, zeera rice, dal, dosas, papad, salad, ice-cream with chocolate sauce, gajar ka halva and gulabjamoon! Oh man, believe me; I pulled myself up with ease after all the stuffing. Digestion wasn’t difficult with simultaneous thinking and putting up an act. I was on a roll!
I remembered what we were discussing while walking to our destination.
“So, whom do we kill?”
“The guy. He’s ugly!”
The third member of the Gatecrash Association piped up “but the girl isn’t all that great either, I can’t see her structure!”
We were clutching our stomach in helpless fits of laughter! Had the groom been handsome, I would have murdered the bride and taken her place. Had the bride been pretty, the guys would have killed the groom and like Pandava brothers, they would have shared her.
Man! Men and their cheeky comments! Have a cheesy night, men!
After the food, we walked up the podium for a click. I hugged the bride and pored love. I wished her genuinely and posed with a mile broad smile. Who would have thought I could? Holy moly guacamole! They didn’t even ask who we were! She could have at least asked for my name! I had to resist the urge to whisper in her ear “we are gatecrashers babe, stop being so nice” with a great difficulty. But the guys had a great conversation next to the groom.
“We are leaving our fucking evidence!”
“Shut the fuck up!”
And the groom overheard! Ohmygosh bigosh!
I wished the couple again, they reciprocated the friendly gesture. At least they have our best wishes. Lord Lyttton, let them be happily married and they can leisurely repent together!
We took the photographer’s number. We’ll get our picture soon. That moment clicked at 22:12 hours on the 12th of December 2013 was perfect, and I have only a memory of it. But that is enough for cheering me up at points of depression! No, seriously, I really want young, decent gatecrashers attending my wedding, because its right when they say one should always feed the hungry.
So we successfully flew below the radar, and it’s a paradise there. We were visible enough to freeload food but invisible for people to remember us. Cheers to our newly discovered talent! *doffs hat* gosh I’m happier than the couple on their marriage!
Can you say spectacular?
Saturday, 30 November 2013
A creative writing competition I couldn’t attend
The topic was street. And I decided to write on it by myself. Who cares about the reward?
**********
A lot of things happen on the street right? People walk, people talk, dogs bark, Cars Park, men pee, chai walas make tea, panipuri treats, dragging feet. And many such things. Including dustbins and twosome kissing. And shopping orbits are sometimes called high streets. What? Why? Even sober people go there!
I confess a sign of immature writing. But how can you blame me? “Street” is a sign of uncreative thinking. I have more suggestions to offer.
Anyway, please don’t stare at my piece like a fire breathing dragon, papers catch fire. A creative writer’s job is to convert ridiculous topics to sublime literature.
So end rant.
And here I go!
Street shopping and street food gives an unimaginable high! Easy on pocket, happiness unlimited. My red t-shirt magically makes my skin clearer, my hair brighter. Thanks, I know you find me pretty. That’s why I say don’t trust mannequins, they are just wax or plastic in mango’s latest arrivals, but what’s the point? They don’t understand street walking and vadapav hogging.
Love is a two way street. Oh how many times I’ve heard that before. Not really, I’ll narrate to you happy one sided love stories sometime. But taking someone’s hand and walking in the streets of Mumbai at 12 in the night and chatting away to everything under the moon is a kickshaw!
What about the loser you see on the street? Yes yes, that loser who lines up in front of the street wine shop at 9P.M and lies down in front of the shop by 10P.M before he struggles his way back home to beat up his wife? Oh he’s such a pain!
But somehow I relate to him. Sadly. I’m under age, and I can’t really go by my alcohol from the authorised shops. I stopped doing proxy purchasing after I left home. So this is my only means to blacking out.
So I line up with them, and my story is that of every woman. I do not wish to generalise and state that they are all sex hungry people ogling at me, but what to do? How much can I blame the alcohol? Tell me he’s staring at my breasts out of envy, I swear I’ll let him do so out of sympathy. I will also go alter Freud’s theories. Tell me he’s singing songs because he thinks I resemble one of the Indian Idle judges. *faints* tell me he is staring at my face because he deals in anti-acne and fairness creams and hopes that I might buy them someday. Tell me he’s grinning not because I’m buying alcohol, but because my street shopped t-shirt quotes “Just where the hell is easy street?”
Ok, I’m digressing. Even assholes have souls. End rant.
I have two childhood stories for you. Cute right? One on birthdays, and the other on street puppies.
I absolutely adore birthdays. Mine, other people’s, and strangers on the street. I was 10, and I heard someone wish a friend. I stopped to wish the passerby, she was taken aback and my mum freaked out! Yeah yeah crazy childhood! But what do I do? I craved for some cake, and even after wishing, I was bereft of it! Sad right?
Now this one goes back to when I was three. I loved dogs. I had one of my own, but I’d still go out to play with the street ones, much to the annoyance of Simba and my mummy. So this is how my dinnertime story goes.
Ronny was black and Ginny was white. They lived on the street. They were fighting over a Scooby snack right outside Simba’s gate. Simba was handsome. He was chocolate brown. He was sad because one of his favourite Scooby snack rolled out under his gate.
Simba watched Ginny and Ronny fight over the yummy treat. They barked and scratched. Simba was very smart and he was little enough to fit between the bars of the gate, he crawled out and picked his snack and chewed and chewed and swallowed it down. Just the way Sai eats her food. So Simba is a smart boy. And Sai is a smart girl. Now eat up your food!
So now, dear reader, dear evaluator, before I close, a random piece of advice from a girl writing on street - I wouldn’t and you shouldn’t walk the streets without money.
Lots of love and LMAO,
Madireddy Sai Vindhya
**********
A lot of things happen on the street right? People walk, people talk, dogs bark, Cars Park, men pee, chai walas make tea, panipuri treats, dragging feet. And many such things. Including dustbins and twosome kissing. And shopping orbits are sometimes called high streets. What? Why? Even sober people go there!
I confess a sign of immature writing. But how can you blame me? “Street” is a sign of uncreative thinking. I have more suggestions to offer.
Anyway, please don’t stare at my piece like a fire breathing dragon, papers catch fire. A creative writer’s job is to convert ridiculous topics to sublime literature.
So end rant.
And here I go!
Street shopping and street food gives an unimaginable high! Easy on pocket, happiness unlimited. My red t-shirt magically makes my skin clearer, my hair brighter. Thanks, I know you find me pretty. That’s why I say don’t trust mannequins, they are just wax or plastic in mango’s latest arrivals, but what’s the point? They don’t understand street walking and vadapav hogging.
Love is a two way street. Oh how many times I’ve heard that before. Not really, I’ll narrate to you happy one sided love stories sometime. But taking someone’s hand and walking in the streets of Mumbai at 12 in the night and chatting away to everything under the moon is a kickshaw!
What about the loser you see on the street? Yes yes, that loser who lines up in front of the street wine shop at 9P.M and lies down in front of the shop by 10P.M before he struggles his way back home to beat up his wife? Oh he’s such a pain!
But somehow I relate to him. Sadly. I’m under age, and I can’t really go by my alcohol from the authorised shops. I stopped doing proxy purchasing after I left home. So this is my only means to blacking out.
So I line up with them, and my story is that of every woman. I do not wish to generalise and state that they are all sex hungry people ogling at me, but what to do? How much can I blame the alcohol? Tell me he’s staring at my breasts out of envy, I swear I’ll let him do so out of sympathy. I will also go alter Freud’s theories. Tell me he’s singing songs because he thinks I resemble one of the Indian Idle judges. *faints* tell me he is staring at my face because he deals in anti-acne and fairness creams and hopes that I might buy them someday. Tell me he’s grinning not because I’m buying alcohol, but because my street shopped t-shirt quotes “Just where the hell is easy street?”
Ok, I’m digressing. Even assholes have souls. End rant.
I have two childhood stories for you. Cute right? One on birthdays, and the other on street puppies.
I absolutely adore birthdays. Mine, other people’s, and strangers on the street. I was 10, and I heard someone wish a friend. I stopped to wish the passerby, she was taken aback and my mum freaked out! Yeah yeah crazy childhood! But what do I do? I craved for some cake, and even after wishing, I was bereft of it! Sad right?
Now this one goes back to when I was three. I loved dogs. I had one of my own, but I’d still go out to play with the street ones, much to the annoyance of Simba and my mummy. So this is how my dinnertime story goes.
Ronny was black and Ginny was white. They lived on the street. They were fighting over a Scooby snack right outside Simba’s gate. Simba was handsome. He was chocolate brown. He was sad because one of his favourite Scooby snack rolled out under his gate.
Simba watched Ginny and Ronny fight over the yummy treat. They barked and scratched. Simba was very smart and he was little enough to fit between the bars of the gate, he crawled out and picked his snack and chewed and chewed and swallowed it down. Just the way Sai eats her food. So Simba is a smart boy. And Sai is a smart girl. Now eat up your food!
So now, dear reader, dear evaluator, before I close, a random piece of advice from a girl writing on street - I wouldn’t and you shouldn’t walk the streets without money.
Lots of love and LMAO,
Madireddy Sai Vindhya
Sunday, 27 October 2013
Flat line it before it flat lines by itself!
“I’m in love.”
“Awwwwwww…”
“I have a boyfriend.”
“Ooiyeahh!”
“I kissed…”
“Pheeeeee!”
“Guess what? I did it!”
“Hoot! Hoot! How was it?”
See? Honeymoon fazes! Before you actually start living together. How cute!
Remember what Raj said before he met Simran in DDLJ?
“Kisi ke bal achche hote hain to kisi ke hot” (Some women have nice hair, others have pretty lips.)
After he met her,
“Kaisi hai? Simran?” (How is Simran?)
“Bahot pyaari hai.” (Very beautiful)
But dude. How long did he live with her? For an age of three hours and ten minutes! Bollywood and open ends!
Love is a strange emotion. It pulses through you, clouds reasoning and rational thought. It invokes jealousy, superiority complex and you’ll feel a bizarre sense of anger surge through you. Don’t tell me you are not insecure. Don’t tell me you don’t face the twisted threat of losing him. Don’t you fear replacement? Don’t you worry being abandoned?
Allow me to describe the stages in love, dear reader.
1. I want to get the last bite. For a gorgeous husband.
Hmmmmm. A girl’s favourite myth. Because long long ago some dumb anorexic blond chick was told by her mamma that if she eats the last bite, she’ll get a gorgeous husband. And she ate the first bite to reach the last bite. But I wonder why broad figures are not yet in trend.
2. Pleasure meeting you, see you around.
Of course. Because the answer to “was it love at first sight?” is “hardly!”
3. “So good to see you.” “Same here man, how are you?”
And the conversation ends at “here’s my number. Stay in touch.” You might even pull up a reason for sharing your number, excuses work better than “I’m kind of interested in you.”
4. “It’s me. What’re you up to?”
This and that. And more. And the conversation goes on all night. Even if it means hanging on and spending silent seconds and phone credit.
5. “How was your day?” “Ok…” “Same here.” “Life can suck sometimes.”
Go on. Tell him. He’s there. Are you worried about “she wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts. She wears high heels, I wear sneakers” like Taylor Swift? He’ll accompany you to the saloon the next time. He’ll shyly wait outside for you, patiently giving you time for whimpering while your eyebrows are plucked and simpering while your hands are manicured. Oh and your pretty purple nails will make him hold your hand, and crossing the road is an excuse. Soft hands, so cute.
Congratulations, you’re in love! Awwwwwwwww!
6. “I am not sleepy.” “Awwwww! Let me put you to sleep.”
Sweet? Or seductive? That precarious pink in a momentary blush. But you won’t notice it!
7. Sidelong glances, suppressed laughter.
Because some things are better unsaid.
8. “I promise.”
The scarlet seduction of a rose in full bloom. It’s a promising flower he pushes into your hand. There’s nothing better than being wrapped together in that beautiful bond of love. True love. Your love.
9. “You look pretty today.” “Come on, it’s my usual worn out purple t-shirt.”
Oh no don’t. You can’t expect him to notice you everyday. Maybe he just realised and you pissed him off! Now hit your head on the table top!
10. Silence… The glorious kiss… Shock… Laugh… Longer… harder…
Pheeeeeeeeee! Hahahahahaha!
11. “I reached safe. Listen love, I’m missing you. Hey, do you want to talk to amma?”
How awww right? You’ll check whether your manners are intact before you hear aunty say hello. That’ll be one sweet conversation. And the conversation that will go on short for that night because of high roaming costs will be about being a son and missing a mother and more about family like ranting about the biggest idiot amongst your siblings and married siblings and nephews and nieces if there are any. A family of your own will sound good.
12. “I was sleeping, why can’t you just leave me in peace?”
That’s the problem with the extra X chromosome. It thinks too much, worries too much, cries too much and after all the energy loss, it understands too little and calls too much. Leave the poor boy alone. He is tired.
13. “How could you forget our six month anniversary?”
He just did. I don’t really know why, I couldn’t find out.
14. “You don’t give me time.” “How much time do you want?” “You gave me all your time without asking when we started off, and now you are bored of me, right?”
Please try and understand. Yesterday is not today and today is not tomorrow. When you run after something, it runs away from you. When you run away from it, it runs after you. Everything is stasis in standstill situation.
Don’t only keep calling.
Don’t only wait for his calls.
15. The next time you get drunk together.
Well, it’s not just your parents’ blood that is running through your veins, alcohol is authoritarian. Hoot! Hoot!
It was great going missionary, right? Because it’s missionary. The Church, missionaries… Close to divine, right?
16. Salena Gomez sings “I, I, love you like I love some baby!” and you sing along.
But somehow, the short conversation about mothers, family and babies never came up again.
Try asking if he wants to talk to your mamma.
“What baby no! my mummy is my mummy man… others’ mummy? Scared scared!”
Poor kid… This is called mother-in-law phobia. Asshole!
17. “I’ll pick you up for dinner at 8.”
Even if it means a low budget dinner at a dhaba. Anything for butter chicken and garlic naans because they are shaped like teardrops. Bottoms up to your glasses of water, a toast to infinite romance.
18. “Did you see the way he was leering at you? I could have shoved a hot iron rod up his ass!” “how does it matter to you?” “Because you are my girlfriend!” “Your girlfriend! You had no girlfriend when you were gaping at that bimbo who calls herself a model!” “Which bimbo model?” “That bitch at Ed’s birthday party!” “I wasn’t.”
Men, for some reason they are protective only about their women. Mother, sisters, girlfriends, wife, daughters… other women are just… uhm… sexy! Only Zeus knows why.
19. A crumpled chit of love between your fingers passed on to him -
You and I are rising in love,
Just Like that flying dove.
You and I are a cute couple,
Because I love chocolate truffle!
Yes. Very touching composition.
Yes. We are creepy about the men we love.
20. “Did you tell Emma about that joke?” “I… well… not entirely.” “Babes, I know you inside out and you by far, are one of my best discoveries.”
No, that’s surely not a complement! Now you’ll blame yourself if he is not talking to you.
21. “Don’t you know I’m pissed? Don’t you? You told her. It’s our joke, our personal joke. Our personal joke!” “if that upset you why didn’t you tell me before?” “What difference would that make? Don’t you know? Tell me if I am wrong! How will you feel if I talk about kissing and sex and us to my friends? How will you feel? Will you like it? Oh of course, you’ll be very happy. Because you women like showing off! Listen, I’m sorry, but I need a break. Let’s not talk for a week.”
Of course! He’s blaming all women, and you’ll blame yourself. You will stay away, spending every minute reminding yourself that you are an idiot. And you’ll write a million mails apologising and saving them in your drafts because he wants to stay out of touch for a week. You’ll cry, listen to Unfaithful by Rihanna and wait for his call and cry more.
22. “I thought you’ll call. Didn’t you miss me? I deserved it, I’m so stupid. I’m sorry, but I didn’t mean to.” “It’s alright baby, it’s not entirely your fault. I said a lot of cutting things too. I missed you so much, but, baby, I needed a break. You get it right?”
No. you didn’t get the break concept. You’ll still nod because you missed him and his hug is warm.
23. “Baby… I’m sorry. It’s not about you, it’s me. We can’t be together anymore.” “What? After all this while?” “Baby. Lots of perfect love stories exist. Ours was one of them, not anymore. I feel pathetic. but, babes, let’s at least bid each other the best goodbye? Please don’t cry. Please?”
Weeping… howling… gnashing of teeth… pleading… praying… all to no avail. He’ll be nice. But not to the extent of coming back.
24. What sense does “it’s not about you baby, it’s me” make? Why is he blaming the break up on himself and perfect love stories? All of a sudden? Everything was going well. Why?
Trust me! You’ll go crazy trying to decipher all that he said. You’ll even start googling his name. You’ll pull your dirtiest language out of storage. You’ll throw darts at his picture. You’ll want to throw stones at him. You deserve to spew your venom on him, about him, before him, behind him and to the high heavens if you please. But he won’t pick your calls.
It’s over for him. Like a happy dream.
25. A fling before the ring
As you sit there, draped in something absolutely gorgeous, something you picked with your favourite someone for this perfect moment, you’ll hear Jonas Brothers sing “Now I’m speechless over the edge, and just breathless… I never thought that I’d catch this love bug again. Hopeless, head over heels in the moment, I never thought that I’d get hit by this love bug again.” As the ring is slipped on to your finger.
Well, loneliness reaches saturation after a point. Thanks to your nagging friends, his indifference is commonplace and by extension, ok.
You will realise that some things almost come a full circle before they change shape leaving the circle incomplete. And you’ll thank the misshape. You will understand the difference between a loving relationship and giving into blind passion. You will realise the element that led you to celebrate your engagement, and you’ll thank your former relationship for showing you why you didn’t go full circle the previous time.
It might take six months, a year, or even more, but you’ll berry his memories in the past. That's because you’ve grown with time. And the next time you see him on the street, you’ll return his smile or respond to his hello, even if he is with another woman. And you’ll be surprised to realise that it doesn’t affect you anymore.
Dude, now, the actual part… you’ve got to be strong. Bad surprises are meant to be given before you get them. Break up in the first place, I know, it’s going to hurt equally bad, but at least you’ll not feel betrayed or dumped.
What if you don’t predict the announcement? Happens. Almost all the time. Just agree with him about the break up. Don’t call him. Leave him alone. He might just come back. But for how long?
Well, take your call. But whatever has to happen will happen. You can’t force it, you can’t predict it, you can’t stop it, you can’t blame it on anyone. You can just play along.
So, after all, this is what I learned…
A second attempt at everything is better, including relationships and chocolate cookies!
“Awwwwwww…”
“I have a boyfriend.”
“Ooiyeahh!”
“I kissed…”
“Pheeeeee!”
“Guess what? I did it!”
“Hoot! Hoot! How was it?”
See? Honeymoon fazes! Before you actually start living together. How cute!
Remember what Raj said before he met Simran in DDLJ?
“Kisi ke bal achche hote hain to kisi ke hot” (Some women have nice hair, others have pretty lips.)
After he met her,
“Kaisi hai? Simran?” (How is Simran?)
“Bahot pyaari hai.” (Very beautiful)
But dude. How long did he live with her? For an age of three hours and ten minutes! Bollywood and open ends!
Love is a strange emotion. It pulses through you, clouds reasoning and rational thought. It invokes jealousy, superiority complex and you’ll feel a bizarre sense of anger surge through you. Don’t tell me you are not insecure. Don’t tell me you don’t face the twisted threat of losing him. Don’t you fear replacement? Don’t you worry being abandoned?
Allow me to describe the stages in love, dear reader.
1. I want to get the last bite. For a gorgeous husband.
Hmmmmm. A girl’s favourite myth. Because long long ago some dumb anorexic blond chick was told by her mamma that if she eats the last bite, she’ll get a gorgeous husband. And she ate the first bite to reach the last bite. But I wonder why broad figures are not yet in trend.
2. Pleasure meeting you, see you around.
Of course. Because the answer to “was it love at first sight?” is “hardly!”
3. “So good to see you.” “Same here man, how are you?”
And the conversation ends at “here’s my number. Stay in touch.” You might even pull up a reason for sharing your number, excuses work better than “I’m kind of interested in you.”
4. “It’s me. What’re you up to?”
This and that. And more. And the conversation goes on all night. Even if it means hanging on and spending silent seconds and phone credit.
5. “How was your day?” “Ok…” “Same here.” “Life can suck sometimes.”
Go on. Tell him. He’s there. Are you worried about “she wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts. She wears high heels, I wear sneakers” like Taylor Swift? He’ll accompany you to the saloon the next time. He’ll shyly wait outside for you, patiently giving you time for whimpering while your eyebrows are plucked and simpering while your hands are manicured. Oh and your pretty purple nails will make him hold your hand, and crossing the road is an excuse. Soft hands, so cute.
Congratulations, you’re in love! Awwwwwwwww!
6. “I am not sleepy.” “Awwwww! Let me put you to sleep.”
Sweet? Or seductive? That precarious pink in a momentary blush. But you won’t notice it!
7. Sidelong glances, suppressed laughter.
Because some things are better unsaid.
8. “I promise.”
The scarlet seduction of a rose in full bloom. It’s a promising flower he pushes into your hand. There’s nothing better than being wrapped together in that beautiful bond of love. True love. Your love.
9. “You look pretty today.” “Come on, it’s my usual worn out purple t-shirt.”
Oh no don’t. You can’t expect him to notice you everyday. Maybe he just realised and you pissed him off! Now hit your head on the table top!
10. Silence… The glorious kiss… Shock… Laugh… Longer… harder…
Pheeeeeeeeee! Hahahahahaha!
11. “I reached safe. Listen love, I’m missing you. Hey, do you want to talk to amma?”
How awww right? You’ll check whether your manners are intact before you hear aunty say hello. That’ll be one sweet conversation. And the conversation that will go on short for that night because of high roaming costs will be about being a son and missing a mother and more about family like ranting about the biggest idiot amongst your siblings and married siblings and nephews and nieces if there are any. A family of your own will sound good.
12. “I was sleeping, why can’t you just leave me in peace?”
That’s the problem with the extra X chromosome. It thinks too much, worries too much, cries too much and after all the energy loss, it understands too little and calls too much. Leave the poor boy alone. He is tired.
13. “How could you forget our six month anniversary?”
He just did. I don’t really know why, I couldn’t find out.
14. “You don’t give me time.” “How much time do you want?” “You gave me all your time without asking when we started off, and now you are bored of me, right?”
Please try and understand. Yesterday is not today and today is not tomorrow. When you run after something, it runs away from you. When you run away from it, it runs after you. Everything is stasis in standstill situation.
Don’t only keep calling.
Don’t only wait for his calls.
15. The next time you get drunk together.
Well, it’s not just your parents’ blood that is running through your veins, alcohol is authoritarian. Hoot! Hoot!
It was great going missionary, right? Because it’s missionary. The Church, missionaries… Close to divine, right?
16. Salena Gomez sings “I, I, love you like I love some baby!” and you sing along.
But somehow, the short conversation about mothers, family and babies never came up again.
Try asking if he wants to talk to your mamma.
“What baby no! my mummy is my mummy man… others’ mummy? Scared scared!”
Poor kid… This is called mother-in-law phobia. Asshole!
17. “I’ll pick you up for dinner at 8.”
Even if it means a low budget dinner at a dhaba. Anything for butter chicken and garlic naans because they are shaped like teardrops. Bottoms up to your glasses of water, a toast to infinite romance.
18. “Did you see the way he was leering at you? I could have shoved a hot iron rod up his ass!” “how does it matter to you?” “Because you are my girlfriend!” “Your girlfriend! You had no girlfriend when you were gaping at that bimbo who calls herself a model!” “Which bimbo model?” “That bitch at Ed’s birthday party!” “I wasn’t.”
Men, for some reason they are protective only about their women. Mother, sisters, girlfriends, wife, daughters… other women are just… uhm… sexy! Only Zeus knows why.
19. A crumpled chit of love between your fingers passed on to him -
You and I are rising in love,
Just Like that flying dove.
You and I are a cute couple,
Because I love chocolate truffle!
Yes. Very touching composition.
Yes. We are creepy about the men we love.
20. “Did you tell Emma about that joke?” “I… well… not entirely.” “Babes, I know you inside out and you by far, are one of my best discoveries.”
No, that’s surely not a complement! Now you’ll blame yourself if he is not talking to you.
21. “Don’t you know I’m pissed? Don’t you? You told her. It’s our joke, our personal joke. Our personal joke!” “if that upset you why didn’t you tell me before?” “What difference would that make? Don’t you know? Tell me if I am wrong! How will you feel if I talk about kissing and sex and us to my friends? How will you feel? Will you like it? Oh of course, you’ll be very happy. Because you women like showing off! Listen, I’m sorry, but I need a break. Let’s not talk for a week.”
Of course! He’s blaming all women, and you’ll blame yourself. You will stay away, spending every minute reminding yourself that you are an idiot. And you’ll write a million mails apologising and saving them in your drafts because he wants to stay out of touch for a week. You’ll cry, listen to Unfaithful by Rihanna and wait for his call and cry more.
22. “I thought you’ll call. Didn’t you miss me? I deserved it, I’m so stupid. I’m sorry, but I didn’t mean to.” “It’s alright baby, it’s not entirely your fault. I said a lot of cutting things too. I missed you so much, but, baby, I needed a break. You get it right?”
No. you didn’t get the break concept. You’ll still nod because you missed him and his hug is warm.
23. “Baby… I’m sorry. It’s not about you, it’s me. We can’t be together anymore.” “What? After all this while?” “Baby. Lots of perfect love stories exist. Ours was one of them, not anymore. I feel pathetic. but, babes, let’s at least bid each other the best goodbye? Please don’t cry. Please?”
Weeping… howling… gnashing of teeth… pleading… praying… all to no avail. He’ll be nice. But not to the extent of coming back.
24. What sense does “it’s not about you baby, it’s me” make? Why is he blaming the break up on himself and perfect love stories? All of a sudden? Everything was going well. Why?
Trust me! You’ll go crazy trying to decipher all that he said. You’ll even start googling his name. You’ll pull your dirtiest language out of storage. You’ll throw darts at his picture. You’ll want to throw stones at him. You deserve to spew your venom on him, about him, before him, behind him and to the high heavens if you please. But he won’t pick your calls.
It’s over for him. Like a happy dream.
25. A fling before the ring
As you sit there, draped in something absolutely gorgeous, something you picked with your favourite someone for this perfect moment, you’ll hear Jonas Brothers sing “Now I’m speechless over the edge, and just breathless… I never thought that I’d catch this love bug again. Hopeless, head over heels in the moment, I never thought that I’d get hit by this love bug again.” As the ring is slipped on to your finger.
Well, loneliness reaches saturation after a point. Thanks to your nagging friends, his indifference is commonplace and by extension, ok.
You will realise that some things almost come a full circle before they change shape leaving the circle incomplete. And you’ll thank the misshape. You will understand the difference between a loving relationship and giving into blind passion. You will realise the element that led you to celebrate your engagement, and you’ll thank your former relationship for showing you why you didn’t go full circle the previous time.
It might take six months, a year, or even more, but you’ll berry his memories in the past. That's because you’ve grown with time. And the next time you see him on the street, you’ll return his smile or respond to his hello, even if he is with another woman. And you’ll be surprised to realise that it doesn’t affect you anymore.
Dude, now, the actual part… you’ve got to be strong. Bad surprises are meant to be given before you get them. Break up in the first place, I know, it’s going to hurt equally bad, but at least you’ll not feel betrayed or dumped.
What if you don’t predict the announcement? Happens. Almost all the time. Just agree with him about the break up. Don’t call him. Leave him alone. He might just come back. But for how long?
Well, take your call. But whatever has to happen will happen. You can’t force it, you can’t predict it, you can’t stop it, you can’t blame it on anyone. You can just play along.
So, after all, this is what I learned…
A second attempt at everything is better, including relationships and chocolate cookies!
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