January Blogathon, quotes, Uncategorized

Day 8 – Howl

“If you could only see the beast you’ve made of me

I held it in but now it seems you’ve set it running free

Screaming in the dark, I howl when we’re apart

Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart”

I might have been living under a rock for so long ’cause I’ve only recently discovered Florence + The Machine. I love how amazing she is. She might be high most of the time but I love how wild, crazy and so full of energy she is. And her clothes and flaming red hair, I WANT.

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America, Black and White, Fiction, January Blogathon, random, Uncategorized, Untitled, Word Pad

Day 5

The sudden stop of the plane jolted her awake. She craned her neck to look out the plane window, past the man with the greasy hair. It was still early. She could see the golden rays of the sun inching slowly through the clouds. Clouds – fluffy – white- vanilla – ice cream – Ian’s – Asl— her mind immediately made the connection. She shook her head hoping that it would empty itself of the memories.

It was half an hour before she could collect her bags. The descent from the aircraft had been uneventful. After being away for so long she expected small things to give her that spark of excitement, but no. She saw a girl who had the word fear tattooed across her arm in Italian.

“Exactly what I needed”, she whispered under her breath.

Finally, she saw the polka dotted ribbon of her suitcase. She collected her things and pushed the trolley towards the exit. The butterflies were going crazy in her stomach, a mixture of excitement and fear, of the unknown.

“Just remember its not going to be the same, Hana. Remember you can change everything about you.”

With this chorus in her heart and a prayer on her mouth she stepped out on to the busy streets of New York. It was a mixture of people and taxi cabs. Everyone was heading somewhere. Everyone had a purpose. But she was stuck to the pavement. There it was, bang opposite the airport exit – Ian’s Ice Cream Parlor written in a cheery red color. The moment she saw that, all the memories came flooding back and it took all the strength she had to move forward.

“I can make it through one day without thinking about him.” T

his was just one of the many lies she told herself to get through the day.

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America, Bhaarath Mahaan, Black and White, madras, my crazy days, random, Travel, Uncategorized, Untitled

Last week I took a seventeen hour flight from San Francisco to Dubai and another five hour flight from Dubai to Madras. In the first leg of my journey I sat with two boisterous Afghan women, one whose hair rivalled Cruella De Vil.

The Economy class gives one no option but to befriend your fellow passenger, and considering its seventeen hours you’d almost become BFFs. But isn’t that the most basic of human tendencies? The ability to friend a stranger? Growing up my mother always warned me about strangers. She would drill the Little Red Riding Hood story in to my head and would remind me about the wolf every time I walked alone to my bus stop.

But growing up I’ve realised that not all strangers are bad. In fact the wolves could be people you meet every day.

***
My theory that urine and phenol is the first smell that hits you when you land in Madras has been verified yet again. Honestly speaking though, I missed the smell of phenol. I always associated it with cleanliness.

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Seeing foreign returned Uncles and Aunties at the airport is a nice time pass while waiting in line for immigration. The clothes they come up with are mind boggling. I saw an uncle wearing grey satin pants carrying a leather backpack. Go ahead, imagine.
Aunties wearing silk sarees and sneakers is the norm.

***
Madras seems a little different, like it’s lost its old world charm. I’ve only been away a year so maybe I’ve lost mine.

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Uncategorized, Untitled

We bought a new coffee machine this week. It’s safe to say I am permanently on a coffee high. I have about three cups of coffee a day. Two, if I’m feeling guilty. I want to cut down to one but the smell of freshly brewed coffee is such a beautiful thing. So if my hands are twitching or if I’m being crazier than normal, you know why.

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America, Black and White, life, life lessons, random, Uncategorized, Untitled

When I was in college I watched a lot of movies. It didn’t matter how B-grade they were, if it was on torrentz I would watch it. One of the movies I saw during this time was The Invention of Lying. The movie was an epic fail but today while I was thinking in the shower (the other place I do my thinking is on the bed) I recollected this movie. The movie was bad but imagine if none of us told lies. We would just tell people what we thought about them and lying isn’t even an option. Would relationships survive in a situation like this? No matter how much we love some one, how much of the truth can we handle?

Most of us may say small white lies, not for defending ourselves but in the belief that we’re protecting the other person from the harsh truth.  Its not easy being entirely truthful either. To be entirely truthful the person you’re answering to must be able to take in whatever you reveal to them or you must live a perfect life with no space for error. But we’re human and our life is a train wreck.

Maybe honesty is over rated. Maybe white lies are needed to keep the world running. Women need to be told their rear doesn’t look fat in that dress and we have to say “It was nice meeting you” when in truth it was awful. I guess that is just how the world functions and if it weren’t for this, the world as we know it would end.

Or maybe we should lead such perfect lives that the need for telling  a white lie or telling a truth that doesn’t hurt someone is unnecessary.

So what is better? Telling the small white lies in the belief that we’re protecting others, being truthful or leading the perfect life?

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Uncategorized

Happy Friday!

“Do not read, as children do, to amuse yourself, or like the ambitious, for the purpose of instruction. No, read in order to live.”

– Gustave Flaubert

Happy Book Lover’s Day, bibliophiles!

Note : If you need something to make your heart flip read Madame Bovary. No one can write about love and women the way he does.

Not to self : Re-read Madame Bovary.

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