Zeal

Your Yeanling

Xanthoriatic (if you want a pretentious word)/ e(X)uberance (if you'll let me cheat)

Unrequited

Tainted

Sweet

Rancor

Queer

Pretty

Mine

Lassitude

Kamikaze

Testers of Patience

The next person to ask me how “married life” is “going” or why I don’t look any different now (sorry that I’m not sprouting the horns or the extra head that I am supposed to) is going to be treated to an hour-long lecture on the ways to exercise self-control when the urge to ask stupid questions surfaces.

Life Hacks for Bad Conversationalists

That Girl With The Spaghetti

Only I Can Write A Saga on Doors.

Note: Before I start, let me make something very clear: I do NOT need anyone to open the door for me. Nor do I mind it when someone does, as a gentlemanly gesture, I chalk it down to chivalry which is a nice thing, something that us, feminists, seem to have forgotten.

Disgusted.

What a start to my UBC attempt. Edited to add: Linking to Monday Musings

I have never written about my beliefs, religious, social, or anything else, before on my blog. I have pretty strong opinions, ones that might offend certain readers’ sensibilities and while I really could give two hoots about those who take personal offense at things said on social media, I do care about not having long drawn-out arguments with people who aren’t capable of logical thought. 

That said, here begins the rant of the century arising from feelings of disappointment and disillusionment on multiple counts, the reasons for which will be apparent to you shortly.

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.

Unsent Letters

To the boy who has his nose buried in the books, 

Look up! The real world is as beautiful and as perfect as it is in those books. Sure, there is pain and there is disorder and chaos and more pain but when you look beyond it, there is greater happiness. Just like the pot of gold that the goblin planted for you to find. Read to fall in love with words, with expressions, not to escape reality.

- Me who used to hide behind books when life got hard. But never realized that the solution to the problems lay elsewhere.  

To the girl who falls in love too easily,

You have only one heart and piecing it together after it splinters for the nth time will hurt more than you can endure. Love as much as you want but protect the wee little heart – give that all-consuming, ever-lasting power to only those who really deserve it. But even if you don’t learn, I shall be around to put you back together.

- Me who likes to pretend to have a barricaded heart. And hides the marshmallow-like softness behind the façade of cynicism.

To the man with the coffee and the quick stride,

You have worked long and hard which is why the meeting will wait. You should lengthen the stride, slow it down a bit, let your coffee simmer down from the scalding hot that it is now. You gaze straight ahead but you see nothing more than the path in front of you – open your senses to the fresh green foliage, the earthy smell of the first rain, the spicy aroma from the chat stall and the incessant babble of the women around.

- Me who learnt to live better. But not before God numbered my days.

To the people who are obsessed with ‘finding love’,

If you don’t stop underselling yourself and overexpecting from others, if you don’t stop looking for something that is not meant to be found that easily, if you don’t let others’ happiness sway you in the wrong direction, if you don’t stop with the endless rounds of self-pity which help you spiral only in the downward direction, you will never be truly happy even if you do find the great love of your life. Let it happen when it happens. And leave it alone till it does.

- Me who has fallen in and out of ‘love’ a million, billion, trillion times. So much so that I don’t know what true love feels like.

To the pantry boy,

The genuine smile that you serve with your burnt tea is what will get you places.

- Me who doesn’t remember the faces of any other pantry boy. Except you.

To the married woman,

If you ever come by here, I want you to know that I’m proud to be someone you call ‘friend’. Right from the quiet maturity that everyone relies on to the art of dealing with the most difficult people that you seem to have mastered, I wonder how you do it. I love how you are not perfect and your husband is not perfect but together you are picture perfect. I want that for me and some day, will you grant me the honor of being my bridesmaid?

- Me who has found a role model in you.  

To the raindrops that caught me unawares on a Friday night,

The tumultuous events of the evening did nothing to dissipate from the pleasure you gave me – I felt the heat rise from my person and disappear into wisps in the strong winds that you brought with you and I truly understood the meaning of ‘water for the thirsty’. Stick around, won’t you?

- Me who hates the summer with all my heart. Despite all the fleeting summery feelings the season is supposed to bring with it.

To 2014,

Be nice to all those who are less than lucky. Be nice to all those who aren’t as blessed. Be nice to all those who need you to make things better. Be nice to those who suffer at the hands of Fate. Bring more hope as you go along as that alone will take us forward.

- Me who has had bad days in the year. But cannot really recall them.

To Perfection,

Stop being so elusive.

- Me whose hands you slip out of on an everyday basis.

F - Fake

Caution: I was going to write about Fart Jokes but circumstances had me thinking in another direction. Small, little impromptu rant here. Please bear with me.

I look around me and see so many people pretending to be what they are not. Ugly pouting, teens flashing skin in dresses that women twice their age should be wearing, people lying about their real selves, real lives, men trying a little too hard, the management going slightly overboard in their efforts to please, those speeches written carefully to make the workers at the bottom rung feel better about being overworked and under appreciated, the slightly forced smiles, the putting on of airs .... The list goes on.

Why aren't we just honest?

When the best friend shows up like candy floss, ain't it our duty to tell her rather than sparing her feelings rather than attracting comment from someone who will not care about her feelings? Why would you make 'friends' only to ensure that you had something to do during the weekends and to get invited to all the house parties? Why all the hugging and the kissing and the love, when all you really want is company for when your boyfriend/girlfriend is not around? Why lie about the cost of those shoes/handbags/whatevernot? Why spend so much money on branded clothes just so that you can talk about it in front of your friends? Why bother turning up at birthdays when you don't have five minutes to record a message for the birthday girl? (Not talking about myself, btw :P)

I'm not asking anyone to be rude, I understand that for people to get along, you also need to be mature enough to suck it up and deal with it sometimes. But those white lies. 

So you start with one small fake-ry. Then to cover that up you have to make up a back story. With that comes an attitude that no one really buys. After that comes the flurry of white lies to make the story sound authentic.... It is a cycle, really. One that doesn't fool anyone at the end of the day.

It is almost like lying. Wait. It IS lying.

I might not be a lot of things and God knows that I am flawed as much or more than anyone else but one thing I can proudly say is that I have never faked any emotion, compliment or action of mine. Or anything else for that matter. Though I have had this girl say that the person I claim to be on the blog is not the real person that I am, making me question myself, I am convinced, the more people I meet, the more life makes me experience, that I do not have it in me to fake it. With me, what you see is what you get. While most of the time that works against me, I can safely make statements like this on my blog and rest in peace that I write only what I believe in, that I live my beliefs.

I firmly believe in the policy of living and letting others live. Every philosophy and principle of mine has roots in that one policy. But when you see people faking everything right down to their very existence, trying to convince themselves that their opinions and tastes are superior, their lives itself are superior (in comparison to I-don't-know-what) I wonder if I should lose it to the frustration I feel or switch to ascetic mode (which a lot of people have suggested but for the dragon with the temper that I am, it is very close to impossible).

Has it really come to this?

I still haven't found out the secret to dealing with fakes.
Have you?