Dear...

...firang in the theatre,

I’m SORRY I walked in late, I really am. It wasn’t on purpose that I missed the first 45 minutes of Avengers (not out of my mind)... I’m also not a brat, much as you’d like to think that.

My dear Bangalore’s weather decide to crap on my plans, and despite being a big fan of the rains, I do not relish getting drenched to the bone, having my dress stick to my skin, leaving puddles of water in my wake, and sitting in a theatre with centralized air-conditioning. Had I taken a chance, you’d have found it difficult to hear RDJ being cocky over my chattering teeth, aren’t you glad I spared you that?

What I’m trying to say is that I don’t relish walking over your toes to get to my seat or blocking your view of Thor, even for a second, I understand the pleasures of eye candy as thoroughly as any other girl, I swear. So you can stop glaring at me and bitching about me to your friend (you realize I understand English, right?). I promise not to do it ever again to anyone, will you promise not to be so judgmental?

Good talk.

hues, tints, tones, and shades.

PC

The blazing red of the sun saying au revoir for the day, making me thank God for ending the day.

The muted red of my nail tips, already chipping, pitfalls of having a basin full of vessels.

The bright red of Maybelline’s Pure Reds, counteracting the pixie-ness of my hair cut.

The cheery red of my favorite shirt, that I reserve for tortuous Mondays. 

The earthy red of the soil that coats the underside of my bellies, 

bringing a smile to my face, the impending rains. 

The dirty red of graffiti on my phone cover, reminding of the sweetiepie who gifted it to me. 

The sharp red of my hair flicks, as sharp as the statement I’m trying to make.

The fiery red of bell peppers, that is strangely misleading. 

The streaked red of my eyes that mirror the blues of a typical Monday I feel inside.

The rich red of the kumkum on my friend’s forehead.

The happy red of her choor(d)e, that tinkle merrily, distracting me from my Mining Equipment file.

The fake red of the ketchup I push away at lunch.

The deep red of the drop of blood that my cat elicits during a play session.

The worn-out red of the carpet, trodden under the feet of a hundred people.

The angry red I see when I spy typos. 

The clean red of my bedsheets as I sink into them, willing the week to disappear into the long weekend.

Death by Chocolate. No, quite literally.

So this is one of the (many, many) lets-laugh-at-PV jokes that people told at my farewell in the last company. This is my version and the correct version, don’t let anybody else tell you otherwise.

This was about three months into my very first job (in the aforementioned company) and my dear TL, Manjeet Singh, decided to have lunch with his all-girls team :P (I’m already laughing at how this sounds to the outsider and how far from the truth that impression is, but I’m not going to correct the impression because I like being mean to Manjeeta. Heehee. Hopefully, he will never read his or I’m going to get thwacked). Lunch is at a pub, I didn’t know what to order (yes, a girl from the semi-village took some time to learn how to order. Go on, laugh at me.) Conversation is strained with my friend because I stood her up and I wasn’t really on chatting terms with the rest of the team (yes, I was chronically socially awkward. Still am, a lot of times). Needless to say, the exercise was one of extreme discomfort on my part and stomach cramps did nothing to alleviate the situation.

Till somebody said ‘dessert’.

I jumped at the chance but unfortunately, no one else did because a) they had ordered sensibly and b) they had ordered sensibly. At my downcast face, my friend said she’d shared dessert with me and I didn’t wait for her to ask twice (which in hindsight, I should have).

The innocuous-looking item on the menu turning out to be half a pound of chocolate cake, the moment it turned the corner and headed towards our table, I knew I was in trouble. BUT I was comforted by the fact that my friend was going to share it.

Everyone was suitably impressed by the space I’d left for dessert in my stomach, including Manjeeta, and I smiled and waved and took a couple of bites of the cake. Bits of chocolate heaven, no doubt about it. Things were quite okay till my dear friend decided she’d had enough, after only three tiny bites. I was aghast, how was I going to eat all that cake by myself?!! (no, the thought of having it packed in a doggie bag and taking it home to eat later when I would have actually enjoyed it did not cross my extremely intelligent (please get the sarcasm) mind) 

So I hitched up my pants, rolled up my sleeves and slogged through the whole damn half a pound cake.

Needless to say the last bite was the last ever bite of chocolate cake I’ve taken since (not really, but dramatic effect is necessary no?). Needless to say I was just about holding it together till I got home and cried out chocolate cake.

Needless to say, learn how to say no before you let chocolate cake be the death of you.
Or just ask for a damn doggie bag.

Over. And Out.

10 Things You Really Don't Need To Know About Me

Been a long time since I TMI-ed you guys. So here goes nothing.

10> I cannot, CANNOT stand public washrooms. I’d rather hold it in, get UTI and die than tinkle in most public washrooms.

9> The thought of sharing my toothbrush and books with ANYONE makes me want to hurl.

8> I seem to have developed an obsession for all things owlish in the last few years.

7> I am probably the best non-practicing fashion follower ever. As in, I like looking up trends, shades, makeup, hemlines, and whatnot, but retract into being a semi-tomboy in real life. Zero effort goes into picking out my clothes for the day/have a basic skin care routine with products I've used since high school.

6> I hate the heat/summer. I HATE it. I HATE IT SO VERY MUCH. Indian summers are the bane of my existence, clearly I was born in the wrong part of the world.
I love the cold: lower the temperature, the better. I’m in the best of moods when I’m drenched to the bone from riding in the rain or my toes and fingertips are going numb in the cold.

5> I've never been a grammar Nazi; I’ve always made up words whenever I wanted to, chosen a very conversational style of writing, set an informal tone. But I've become 10x more conscious of my own casual writing and that of others since I started editing. My old posts end up making me cringe. Talk about letting a job dictate terms.

6> Considering my obsession with chocolate and related things, it is easy to assume that I have a sweet tooth – I don’t. I don’t like most Indian sweets except Chikki and Ras Malai and sometimes, a stray Doodh Peda.

5> Rice-hater, yo! Only rice I will put in my mouth is Ma’s pulao. Roti-lover all the way!

4> Vegetarian by choice for more than a decade now, and proud of it (despite all the ghas-phoos jokes). My family and friends hate me for it though, I’m sure, what with having to cook both vegetarian and non-vegetarian dishes for every meal.

3> Not great at it but I love cooking, love shopping for cooking and love reading up recipes.

2> Sucker for photos. I can browse Pinterest for days together and then some.

1> Not a morning person. At all. Never been, never will be, have stopped trying. I envy all those people who can get anything except <brushing, bathing, pulling on a tee and jeans (God help me if I have to work in an org that has a dress code), and running out of the door> done in the mornings. I snooze all the way from 6.00 am to 8.00 am. Doesn’t matter if I’m woken up every eight minutes by my phone, I’ll still rebel and stay in bed just to prove a point. To who, I don’t know.

P.S: Inspired by Kelly :)
P.S.S: I wanted to add some randomness to my About Me page. Hence, the post.
P.P.S.S: If you want to take it up as a tag, you are most welcome to! Leave your links in the comments :)
P.P.P.S.S: Linking this to Alley's Open Slather

Semi-life-update-sort-of-not-really

So clearly, the A-Z Challenge is shot to hell and back – don't worry, I've slapped myself for taking it up right in the same month I joined a new job and also, lost my laptop. I couldn't even schedule posts to cheat and get through the challenge but I did write a few posts. I guess I'll just put them up at random.

Y'all know how obsessed I was with chocolates. I named my blog after it, for heavens’ sake.
You read it right. I said was. Before anything else, let me tell you I didn’t give up on my one true love by choice. It was fate. Fate always has the last say, clearly.

You know the worst thing that can happen to a person who loves chocolates? Diabetes. No, don't panic, I don't have diabetes. Yet. That was just for effect. You know the second worst thing that can happen to a person who loves chocolates? I do. It is that current thing that runs through your teeth when you try to crunch ice cubes? Yeah. That. I get that when I eat Twix bars. Just when I thought life couldn't get any crueller.

There lies buried in the annals of life my love story with chocolate. I don't even know who I am anymore.

P.S: Clearly, today is lets-step-up-the-drama-on-tiny-insignificant-things day. And withdrawal-symptoms day. Did anybody miss my disconnected randomness? :P

P.P.S: Who else loves House? Put your hands in the air and say wooohoooo :D

Hot Chocolate in a Cuddle Cup

You and me. 

Sitting across each other. 

You scarfing down the chicken supreme.

With a side of crunchy wedges and creamy mayo. 

And talking non-stop about who did what and when.

No heed paid to the crunch of each wedge or the crisp of each bite.

Me listening. And nodding. And digesting words and meanings and names. 

And learning. And listening some more. 

With a mug of tepid chocolate.

And a side of packaged brown sugar, stained in a corner, half torn.

But swirling around in a cuddle cup. 

Just the right fit for my palms. 

Just like you are, in my life.

You, who I became a listener for.

P.S: Chocolate Room in Koramangala had 'cuddle cups' of hot chocolate. Chocolate se mera rishta purana hai so, needless to say, a big epiphany happened around it, one fine evening. 

P.P.S: Since food poisoning constitutes as extenuating circumstances, I shall continue the A-Z challenge like I didn't miss any posts/days at all :P

P.P.S.S: The office system admin found out I was on Blogger too much and decided to block all "Personal Websites". So much for that. -_-

Anamika

I saw her sitting on one of our office chairs, quiet but not shyly so, wearing a maroon red saree and waiting for someone to say something while we were all busy getting photos taken in the pantry. The new girl who joined long after the last slew of hiring.

What I didn’t know at that time was that she suspected that the saree-wearing might be a prank and was carrying an extra salwar in her bag. Who would be that prepared? Who would have their head screwed on that well on their first day at a new job? Not me!

I didn’t think we’d be friends, for we are different types. Today, a year and a half later, this girl has made her way into my ‘people-I-need-regular-doses-of’ list. And that list is a very short one, I tell you, what with all the trusting and breaking of the heart that seems to have happened in my life.

They say it is in the small gestures. And this girl is an embodiment of that. She is the only one who will make me a whole entire vegetable lasagne so that I’ll also enjoy the occasion as much as those who are hogging on the beef lasagne. She is the only one who will stay up late before her last day at the office to write notes and make small, little gifts for every single person in her team. She is the one who will remember that I’m carsick almost all the time and keep asking me if I’m okay. And she is like that with everyone. Which is why, she is unanimously the most loved person in whichever room she happens to be in.

Though she is like my sweet, mousy Indutty from college in a lot of ways, Anamika Sudhir is only about a hundred times stronger, both physically and in mind. She is intelligent in a way that will make you eat your hat. She is never afraid of a challenge, drives like a F-1 driver, always takes care of herself and the people she cares about and is never one to back down.

So much more to her than just these few sentences but this will have to do.
I don’t know whether I admire her more or love her more, for this one never ceases to amaze.

I thank Flipkart for having brought her into my life, one of my biggest wins at that office.