Nine to Five

"Happy Women's Day!!!"  Come 8th March and the chant begins. Some really do believe in it, some don't, but go along nonetheless and the rest vehemently oppose. I'm not particularly joyous enough to say it aloud, though if anyone wishes me, I thank them politely. To me, the celebration of this 'one day' seems a little worrisome. So I balance myself precariously with my feet in two different boats, sailing through the fast current. Just like any other new idea, this one comes along with its own baggage of pros and cons. And yes, I do believe this concept is new. One day!  Today of all days,  I feel marginalised. Rationally thinking, why should me and my fellow women of the world get just one day to ourselves... International Women's Day! What about the remaining 364 days of the year, not considering the leap years. Do we restrict the celebration of womanhood to this one day? Or do we get so remarkably busy living that we need a day to remind u...

Are you/ were you at some point an avid reader?  Then you must have  quipped "the book was better" more than once. As a dancer, I learnt early on how one expresses with every tiny gesture. With a pen in my hand, thick sheets of paper underneath, being able to put words to my expressions makes me feel alive. Maybe my eyes do tell a story, but its often the ink that intricately elaborates it. Words, thus, are an insight into an author's life. Written pieces, even the smallest sentence, of pure fictional origin, somehow draws its first breath from its writer.  The pen is fuelled with ink dipped in experiences that left the writer's soul parched or inspired.  If you are nodding your head, or agreeing to this someway, then the rest of the blog would be much relatable. If you have any questions, you may turn back or continue to read with skepticism surrounding every word henceforth.  If writing, the act of creating narratives from an expression or idea, ...

“She drinks pints of coffee and writes little observations and ideas for stories with her best fountain pen on the linen-white pages of expensive notebooks. Sometimes, when it's going badly, she wonders if what she believes to be a love of the written word is really just a fetish for stationery.”  - One Day, David Nicholls

If you had the option, what superpower would you ask for? For a day, for yourself? And no! Doing the world a favour or getting rid of evil, doesn't count. Think of something selfish, something just for yourself. Thinking??? Until then, i'll tell you my story... Just like everybody else, I work. To pay my bills, to buy unnecessary items i desire, to build a room full of things. And thus every day I go about doing my daily chores, my mundane routine of home to office and office to home. I live the life as me, the sensible one. The physical I in this physical world of money, science, politics, religion and all that makes up a society.  Now don't get me wrong. I'm not going to harp on about how one should love what they do or do what they love. That we shall leave for so many others to decide for you and me. And personally, I love buying all the unnecessary clutter in my life. The clothes, candles, flowers, watches, umbrellas and the never ending...

Have you heard of date on skype?  Well I have one, ever so often with my family. Recently, I 'Skype-d' with my grandmother and she just couldn't get over the image of me sitting in front of her. Well, almost in front of her. Amazed, she asked my mother if my video was a pre-recorded message. Her amazement multiplied when I started a conversation with her. 'Just like on a phone but with video', she exclaimed! My nephew on the other hand, sitting in her lap seemed very comfortable with my digital presence. He started an online game with me as if this was as good as us prancing around the house with his action figures and bat-mobiles. I could start telling this story with the usual 'once upon time', for it feels like fairy tale. A tale we've lived and forgotten so easily. I should begin at the beginning. When I was still a child. My cousins and I used to write to each other, especially during the vacations. I remember waiting weeks for the lette...

"I grew up with Tweety. And now there is Twitter.  Everything is a tweet, whether it be a yellow bird or blue" As of now, today, we all have opinions about everything. As we stand and watch the world go by, we point our little fingers at 'everything in our view', say a word or two with intense passion and then on approach of another 'thing in view' forget our previous temperament and move on to passionately support the next big thing. I am currently sitting in my office and reading various articles and forming my opinions as I read. Throughout the day, I appreciate certain things and condemn most that come along. How conveniently does one move from one subject to another is probably accredited to our unlimited access to information and the ability to publicly broadcast our emotions without processing it. This is not an article denouncing the entire system of sharing, broadcasting or in today's world 'tweeting' our thoughts. We as t...

Ok so this isn't a story, just thoughts stitched together... Thoughts that come while i walk to my morning train everyday. They needed to see light and this blog is after all about thoughts that "pop"... So... I love talking and people who know me would agree that I love it. I enjoy telling stories and when i cannot write everything down, I let my mouth take over my writing abilities and typing skills.  But what i enjoy most is "pondering". Not necessarily being pensive... but just questioning things around us. Like who decided the name of the days. I mean what does "Monday" even mean? (by the way 'Monday' is derived from "Moon Day" of the Old English) Or "February"? I cant even say "February" without tripping on my tongue. Why do we even have names for days or months... why not just a number. Well i'm sure someone will trace history and get me the answers, but its not the answers i look for.  What I...