Don't ask me why, don't make me lie.

I want to throw my phone away and go somewhere.

Someplace where there is no internet or television. Or annoying questions that I have no answers to. No, not like the Bigg Boss house. I don’t want familiar people around either.

No, I don’t know when I’m getting married. When I know, I’ll announce it to the world and send you the card, ok?

No, I don’t know how long I’m gonna stay in this job. When I know, I’ll tell, ok?

No, I have no fucking clue when I’m moving out of Hyderabad. When I decide, I will mail you the scanned copy of my ticket, ok?

Till then, fucking stop asking me.

No, I’m not gonna get married and have babies just because my friends are. If I had to follow the crowd, I would’ve joined engineering and be writing back-papers now.

What do you mean, “Why did you cut your hair? Why did you pierce your nose?” What sort of a question is that? Why does anybody cut their hair or pierce their nose or ears or belly button? For world peace? No!!! I do it because I bloody want to!
Why do you ask so many questions? Was it your life’s secret ambition to become a quizmaster?

I want to go to some place where no one knows me or I don’t know anybody. Where people won’t have round-table conferences to discuss why the skinny girl has put on weight. Where I won’t have to meet deadlines or lie about why I haven’t turned in the story yet. Where I won’t be forced to wear stupid kurtas and leggings just because it is the ‘dress code’. Where I can streak my hair purple and colour my nails green.

I want to go someplace where I can sing at the top of my voice and no one will look weirdly at me. Where I can wear shorts and roam around. I want to go to sleep at 4 in the morning, wake up at 11, have breakfast at 1, lunch at 5, margaritas for tea. Or maybe, not go to sleep at all. I don’t want to know what time of the day it is. I want to eat when I’m hungry and sleep when I’m sleepy. Not eat because I’m supposed to eat at a particular time of the day or sleep because I’m supposed to sleep at a particular time.

I want to go for long walks, just observing. No talking. Who will I talk to, if I’m going alone? Long walks with no set direction or duration. Just walk till my feet hurt. I will have a small notebook and a pencil stub in my pocket, with which I’ll scribble stuff that I observe during my walk.

I want to be at such a place from where I can see the sun rise and set. Where the wind is so strong, it messes up my hair and makes my eyes water.

I want to be at a beach that doesn’t resemble a parade ground. All I want with me is the sand and the waves. I want to walk on the beach with the wind in my hair and sand at my feet, and trace my name in the damp sand, hurriedly before the waves come and wash it off.

I want to spend the whole day writing and scribbling nonsense that I will never post or publish. Write with my hand, not type on my laptop. And then I will smell the paper to take in the fragrance of pencil.

I want to lie on my back and watch the stars and moon at night. Just watch them for hours, humming Rafi and Kishore songs softly to myself. Occasionally a “Hello darkness, my old friend”, maybe. And then when I fall asleep right there, I don't want anyone to wake me up and tell me to 'go inside and sleep', because I don't want to.

I don’t want to expect anyone’s arrival. Nor anyone to expect mine.

I don’t want to wait for anyone. Nor anyone to wait for me.

I don’t want to be answerable to anyone. Nor anyone to me.

I want to be some place where I won’t have to answer an endless barrage of questions.

Yes, this is a rant.

No, this is not aimed at anyone in particular. It’s aimed at everyone in general.

Pardon the use of abuses. I’m sorry. Well, not all that much.

I had a dream...

Do dreams really signify anything?

I’ve pretty much been a dreamless-sleeper. But of late, I’ve been getting a lot of dreams. Not particularly bad ones, but chaotic ones. Ones that don’t let me sleep peacefully. Ones that have me tossing and turning all night. Ones that I actually remember the next morning because of its unpleasantness.

I’ve noticed a pattern. Whenever I’m at peace with my life, I have a dreamless sleep. I go to bed, fall asleep immediately, and have a refreshing sleep. But if there’s something worrying me- which is alarmingly often these days- I have a very fitful sleep. I take hours to fall asleep, in spite of curling up to the maximum possible limit. If there’s even the tiniest bit of issue worrying me (like, for example, when Sumitra had hosted her C&H giveaway, I actually dreamt that someone else had won it. I swear, I’m not exaggerating. That was the closest I came to having a nightmare :/ That I won it eventually is a different matter :P). There have been times when I woke up to find my cheeks wet because I had been crying in my sleep, and I hurriedly called up home and my friends to ensure that everyone was ok.

But one recurring dream that I’ve had, quite many times, is of going to an exam unprepared. And I’m mostly wearing my school uniform. These dreams usually follow a pattern of me forgetting that I have an exam, rushing to the exam hall, asking random people for last-minute-notes, and sitting and staring blankly at the question paper. And then when I wake up in the morning worried that I have an exam to rush to, I remember with a sigh of relief that I no longer have to appear for exams!

Last night was one such night. Among a lot of other chaotic things, including an accident (or was it death? I don’t remember), I dreamt that I had gone to yet another exam, unprepared. I finally fell asleep at 5:30 AM. As a result, I’m now nodding off at my desk. And I thought I was done with losing sleep over exams…

If any of you has read Freud, can you tell me if this recurrence means anything?

Do you usually remember your dreams? What are your recurring dreams?

P.S:- I got my nose pierced. Yay! :) No, I’m not going to put up pics here, not right now anyways, because the nose pin that they gun-shot into my nose at the parlour is a big one. So it’s like there’s a mini-bulb glowing on my nose right now. As if I needed anything more to draw attention to my elephant-nose. :/ But I love it all the same. :)

It’s amazing…

1) …how so many people have an opinion on something so personal and seemingly insignificant as a haircut. It’s my hair. I’ll cut it, grow it, corn-row it, bead it, colour it purple, or shave it- it’s my wish.

2) …how when you’re thin, all everyone could ask was “Why are you so thin? Aren’t your parents feeding you anything?”, and when you put on four kilos, they leave no opportunity to ask you “Why have you put on weight? What do you eat?”

3) …how random people I’m meeting for the first time in my life can have the audacity to ask me “Your friends are getting married no? Why are you not getting married?”. To which I politely replied, “If that’s the case, many of my friends are having babies also. That doesn’t mean I should do whatever they do.”

4) …how you can be 25 years old to the rest of the world, but still be just 2 years old to your parents. It’s infuriating at times, but for the most part, very very reassuring.

5) …how, in spite of having lived away from home since 2007, my mom still cries each and every time I leave home after a vacation. Every. Single. Time.

6) …how I tease Amma for being a cry-baby every time, but I myself turn away from her quickly so that she doesn’t see my eyes welling up.

7) …how beautiful our country looks from up in the air, amidst the clouds. Gorgeous.

8) …how something as simple as getting a call from the sound engineer in my old office, saying “Divya, come down to the office na. I want your voice to record new year wishes jingle” can make me so happy.

9) …how delicious crab curry and kappa-meen can taste from a small way-side stall on the seashore.

10) …how the worst kind of sickness that can afflict you is ‘homesickness’.

2011 was a revelation. It was a roller-coaster ride. It brought along many surprises, good and bad. The biggest ‘good’ surprise of the year was my dad. The next was how blogging and writing became a major part of my life. I also discovered the perks of blogging. I started teaching part-time.

I hope 2012 gives me more clarity. Because I badly need it. I cannot stay confused forever. Because if the world really is going to end in 2012, I don’t want to die regretting that I never did all those things that I wanted to.

I also hope I start working on a book this year. And for that, I need motivation from you guys. You guys have helped me become an avid blogger. I’m confident that you’ll also help me become an author. I have more faith in you people, my dear bloggers, than I have in myself.


Happy 2012, folks. Let’s promise to the do and be the best we can, shall we?

Merry Christmas & Happy New Year!

Alright, people. I'm off home tomorrow, to celebrate christmas and ring in the new year with my folks (and that includes my family, my friends, my neighbours-everyone). I don't know when I'll log on to the net again. I kinda like to disconnect myself temporarily when I go home. So in case I don't get to wish you guys later on, here it goes!



Eat lots of cake. Sing lots of carols. Watch lots of TV. Sleep in till noon. Wear all your new clothes. Enjoy the holidays.

Most importantly, be happy.

I hope the coming year brings in loads of happiness and fulfils all your wishes.

2011 has been a great year writing-wise. I hope 2012 is better.

Two pieces of news I want to share with you:-

1) I actually won the Calvin & Hobbes Box Set give-away hosted by Sumitra. Yes!! I won that one thing I've been wanting more than anything else! :) Once I get my hands on it, I'll post pictures and make you all jealous, ok? :)

2) I just started contributing for an online magazine called ignitink.com. Do go over and have a look when you can.

See you all next year with lots more of my sense and nonsense. :)

Christmas Star

It was a very pretty star. White colour, made of paper, with many little Santas in red laughing all over.

It was a very very pretty star.

We weren’t exactly one of those families who put up a star during Christmas every year. Not because we didn’t believe in Christmas- we are Mallus. We believe in ALL festivals, religion no bar. We just need a reason to celebrate and eat and drink. We just didn’t have a star. The one that was bought even before I was born had lived its full life and had to be thrown away. So I didn’t really have any memories of Acha taking out the star during Christmas and tying it to the light-bulb. But I loved stars. Absolutely loved them. I used to go around the whole apartment admiring my neighbours’ stars. Aren’t they just lovely?

So one Christmas, when I was in college, I pestered Acha to get me one. Off we went one evening, father and daughter, star-shopping. I dragged him along to numerous stores until I found the perfect one. Normally, he would’ve taken whichever star he found first in the first shop and bought it. Not exactly the patient shopper, my dad. But for once, he seemed as excited I was, to buy a star.



Shiny ones, huge ones, small ones, ones with intricate designs- we found loads of varieties. But I didn’t like any of them. I wanted one that, when I looked at it twinkling in my verandah in the evening, would make me smile and appreciate the spirit of Christmas. Not one that would hurt my eye with its glossiness and give me the feeling of being in a very tacky discotheque. Nope, I didn’t want a disco ball.

After a couple of hours of rigorous searching, many rounds of screening and elimination, we finally found one. It was very simple, the simplest of the lot. There was nothing outstanding about it. But the jolly little santas on the white background brought a smile to my lips instantly.

I was like an excited bunny all the way back home. I couldn’t wait to hang it up. I didn’t even let dad change clothes or have a sip of water once we got home. It HAD to be up immediately. And so he pulled out a few wires, found a bulb, and hung it up. I spent the entire evening outside in the corridor, admiring my star. I knocked on my neighbours’ doors, dragged them outside and showed it to them proudly. I just loved the way it lit up our corridor. Before going to bed at night, I went and peeped at it again, said a ‘Goodnight’ to it, and went to bed a happy, excited person.

For the next couple of days, I couldn’t wait for it to be dark outside, so that I could switch on the star-light. I didn’t let Amma or Acha switch it off till late into the night.

One morning, I was standing outside in the corridor, talking to Ritu Didi and Amma, when I felt something amiss. I glanced up at my star- and all I found was a bulb hanging there.

Somebody had stolen my Christmas star.

I don’t know which bastard could do such a cheap thing. A Christmas star, of all things?? And that too such a simple one? Till date, it’s a mystery. Where could my star have gone? No, it could not have got torn and flown away in the wind, because there were no remains of paper or the string on the bulb wire. It had been neatly cut away.

I haven’t bought a Christmas star after that. I was heart-broken. I know it’s over-dramatic to be so dejected over such a simple thing, but to me, that star was special.

Dad bought another star a couple of years back. It’s big and shiny and twinkly and lights up our verandah.

But it’s not as pretty as my Christmas star.

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I didn’t want to write a negative Christmas story, but I wanted to share this with you guys.

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What are your favourite Christmas memories?




P.S: I’m going home on 24th morning. HOME! Yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!! :) :) :)

Images courtesy Google and The Raw Hen (also goes by the name of Rohan)