Before we get into the meat of the post, a masala…err, caveat, in the form of a conversation with a friend.
Take a pic!
I don’t have a camera on me.
Use your phone!
This piece of shit? Nope. I only do good photos. :-)
Ah well. I only do good sights even if the images aren’t good. Is that too much of a compromise?
Not in my esteemed opinion. Besides I’m a chronic thinker, not a chronic genius. And I’m in a city that clings to civilization just about, not a model of perfection. So save the comments on how blurry the photos are, how I should have used a triple-resolution grade A filter (or something like that). If you can’t make out what my photographs are, I’ll spell them out for you!! Yeah, A.E., that’s a special note to you! :mrgreen:
Now to proceed to the main course….
Love is looking in the same direction….or into the same mobile phone! Continue reading
I would have said..
I could get really used to you
…except I find I already have.
Habits are like huge foam pillows
Comforting, cuddly, warm
Suffocating and restrictive as well
And yeah, they aren’t easy to break. All they do is bounce right back on you.
Your only hope is to tear through even if some of the residue sticks to you.
A ritual is a habit with an over-inflated sense of self-importance
Relationships that are habits
aren’t exciting any more
but they are a helluva lot more comfortable.
And consider, if you had to let go of that flashy new bling outfit you got last week
OR your favorite holed-and-patched-and-ripping pyjamas…
…which would you really, really miss more?
Some people are sad or bored or boring out of habit.
Actually by the same token some people are joyful or involved or interesting by habit.
All it is, is about getting used to thinking about the way one is…or decides to be.
I’m a creature of habit – a bad habit of hobnobing with worse creatures.
Discipline is nothing more than habit with good PR.
The issue isn’t over not getting any.
It’s about not getting enough from the right people.
Discrimination has many merits, virtue not one of them.
We do seem to have a rather strong foot festish here at I Style!, don’t we? Hmm, it seems to me like the only place we’re truly comfortable tucking away our individual style, is under our feet. The shoe-mania continues with something I spotted in one of the Catwalk stores that carried a ‘SALE!’ signboard.
I would have bought this pair, I swear I would have. The only problem is that since the bugs would be under the arch of my foot, they wouldn’t be visible. And methinx the style that doesn’t show isn’t stylish at all!! Even so, I’d love to have them up on my shoe-rack where people can see them. This is soooo my style, I Style!
* Cross-posted to Divadom.
1:25 a.m. is more Saturday night than Sunday morning, no matter what the calendar says.
After a day of light drizzle or no rain, the clouds let themselves go again. For a few seconds all I can hear is the rain. Not the sound the ground makes as the water hits it, nor the metal and glass and concrete shrugging off droplets. Just the sound of the rain.
And perhaps because it’s raining, Bombay is quiet outside my window, even on a Saturday night.
I pick up my phone and thumb out,
I guess you are in sleepy-bye land. It’s pouring outside my window and so the road is quiet for a Saturday night. A good time to be alone and watching the world sleep. Know what I mean? Tell me in the a.m. when you are awake and I’m not.
When I talk, I wonder if the person listening, gets what I’m saying.
After awhile when I know they do, I listen appreciatively and in anticipation for them to validate that impression.
I savour their silence,
allowing me to speak
as I know I will
let them taste my silence
with their words, shortly.
So if listening in silence is really just giving the other person a space to speak…
what else is sleep
but giving them the space to be themselves,
examining the world around
and picking what they want to bring back to you…
…and letting you do the same?
Truly, my lovely solitude is sweetened by thoughts of you.
Did anyone get stuck in a gargantuan traffic jam in Vile Parle/ Andheri/ Jogeshwari/ Malad earlier this week? Yes, yes, I know that’s roz ka jhamela in aamchi Mumbai. But this was like the baap of all traffic snarls. Your vella bloggy-reporter takes you straight to the scene of the crime…errr, traffic jam.
In that dirty, dingy gulli called Andheri subway, an autowalla seemed to have been trying some stunts. Okay, not auto but what do you call those auto-looking things that carry goods instead of passengers? Going by the way the autowallas drive, I don’t think they know the difference but anyway…
This vehicle was stuck in the most extraordinary position of all – nose up in the air and forehead (!) caught in the roof of the subway. A couple of workers were perched up there hammering away in a bid to get it unstuck. Wheels up in the air, my first thought was,
Was that an auto-wheelie gone wrong??
Perhaps he skid. After all Andheri subway is a messy puddle even in the height of summer and we’ve been facing lagataar baarish for a week now. It wasn’t till evening when someone suggested the most probable reason. The back was probably overloaded and it just unbalanced, right under the subway. Kya timing, boss.
As far as I can see, there were no casualties. Except for oh, about two hours of everyone’s time in the peripheral areas. Yeh Mumbai ka traffic, na…
I spotted something in the bookstore today.
On the same day, Hindustan Times ran a very well-written story on women bloggers and the problems we face. Trolls, stalkers, perverts and stereotypes!! I saw it online since it was only the Delhi edition that contained it.
(Click to view story)
With men constituting 76 per cent of all bloggers in India, the common perception is that “chick-bloggers” get more hits simply because they are women. “I resent this. I use a unisex pseudonym, write about things of general interest like cityscapes, humour and relationships. I find it painful that my identity has to be defined by my gender and not the quality or content of my writing,” says R@my@, who writes as IdeaSmith.
Much of my anonymity has been been about protecting my privacy from people I know but some of it has also served as a security blanket against trolls and what-nots. I guess that’s gone now. So hello world, hello non-anonymous life! I just hope I can face it with as much grace and style as my fellow women–bloggers who’ve also been quoted.
On Sunday, DNA ran a story about professional bloggers. I recognized Gautam Ghosh in there and oh, what’s this – I found my own name there too! What on earth am I doing in a story about earning money from blogging? Nothing I’ve seen in the past four years leads me to believe that I can get paid to write about my personal life, the city and general ramblings on relationships. But ah, wait, that’s not what I’m supposed to be doing. According to DNA,