Life As I Know It

  I started blogging because I enjoy writing. I started writing because I had to vent. Somewhere along the way I started enjoying the process of writing without a set goal. The idea of just letting a meandering thought form into a blog post came naturally. This little hobby got me to express myself. Then I graduated college, started working, had too many fleeting thoughts that I couldn’t even filter to pick one aside and write about it. On days when clarity allowed, I was able to write even though it wasn’t often. Then in the zeal to get a friend to pull herself out of a rut I talked myself into blogging with her. It began the way any good thing does. Things were going smoothly. We were churning out posts and we were building a readership. We started putting up our blog updates as statuses, we’d send our friends the link to our latest post, we were relentless in our pursuit to expand our readership. Like any pursuit to succeed a plan and strategy needs to be set in place to achie...

Disclaimer: This post contains content that might not be suitable for people below the age of 18. Read at your own discretion. It is true that the Beatles sang, “All we need is love”, BUT in India the theme for what makes the world spin can be summed in one line, “All we need is a penis”. Here is why I think that – From the time you are born, the first thing people check is to see if you have an appendage between your legs. If you don’t, you easily qualify for the game – “Quest for a Penis”. Hereon onwards you have to go looking for one. The people around you will further emphasize the superiority of the Penis by telling you that EVERYTHING you do on this planet will be irrelevant unless you succeed in your quest for the Penis. BUT there is a catch, you can’t just get any Penis, you have to adhere to the laws of religion, caste, sub caste (if any) ooooh and dare you not forget-Gotra. If the penis you find doesn’t pass the above test, that Penis is useless. BUT if you find...

A friend of mine who is extremely concerned about me asked me why I never carry out all my revenge seeking schemes. I make such elaborate plans in my head and, even when I am thinking those thoughts, I know it is unrealistic. But the pleasure of thinking them is all mine hence, I indulge in it. The unrealistic aspect of my schemes renders them impractical ergo inexecutable. Just the fact that I did what I wanted to them in my head is satisfaction enough, because I don’t have to face the consequences of being accused, taken into custody and then convicted. Prevents all the tax payers money from being splurged on a little human who takes up very little space on the planet. Also there are so many ways to harm someone in your mind and if you give your imagination a free rein, there are such splendid possibilities. For your own personal viewing you can execute every single plan. That would NEVER have been possible if in reality I executed one course of revenge. THAT would have been...

November, 1996 stands out in my memory because that was my first encounter with the concept of death. My parents told my brother and me that our uncle had passed on and that we’d be going to Bombay to visit our aunt for a while. I knew what death meant. I had squished the life out of way too many insects to be completely oblivious to the idea of death. Yet, I believed death for humans was way different than death of insects and animals. I hadn’t seen other ants mourn for the ant I had killed. The ants just carried on with their task, when an occasional ant would stop and nudge the dead ant and it would just continue with the task at hand. When dogs got run over, the other dogs never stood around the dead dog and paid their respects. When we went to stay with our aunt after the funeral, I would always see her crying. I had never known her to cry. When we returned home, my brother came in to our room and sat across me and asked me, “Have you ever thought of what will happen to us if...

I am not big on self-help books. I didn’t have an opinion on them until I read one. I always thought I wouldn’t read one because these books are categorized as “Self Help”. Enough said right? I mean why would one want to read a self-help book? When one can step out of their house to do whatever they want to?[I know you need legs to step out. If you have them step out. If you don’t have them figure out a way to step out. If you have legs but don’t know how to use them – I’ll imagine you as a baby between the age group of 1 day – 15 months old who is a prodigy and can read and chose my blog of all blogs to be educated about the world based on my constant rants on my life experiences. But if you aren’t in the age bracket I mentioned, please don’t try and contact me.] The first thing about experiencing anything is to actually get out there and do whatever the hell it is that your brain is prompting you to do. There are three ways that this experiment can go – You fail or succeed and...

Here I am, pecking at my keyboard with my one good hand. I fractured my left wrist so it's out of order for the next 4 weeks. So my first post is a dedication to my left hand. As a kid i'd always wanted to fracture my hand because of all the attention and kids really love showing off their bruises and the bigger the band-aid the better. I used to envy every kid with a broken bone. What I wished as a child i'm experiencing as an adult and quite frankly, the novelty of a fracture is now totally lost on me. Of course the attention and concern is nice but then I prefer having both my hands functioning. There is another reason behind me not milking my whole sorry situation for what it's worth, that is because the story behind the fall is not so very dramatic, nobody can guess the way it all happened. When people see me they all ask me if I fell off my vehicle, next they ask if I was up to some mischief on the trees or if I was trying to jump from a height for cheap thril...

To write or not to write? Well.... Here goes.... So I decided to write a blog. Having decided that, I now needed a topic on which to write. So I began writing about my PG where I stayed for a month... but it was too much of a strain to relive all the horrors again. I thought I'll write about FENNY my little Labrador but then I started picking lines from James Herriot! Being a law student I wouldn't want a suit for plagiarism against me ( for all who haven't read Kavya Vishwanathan's- Opal mehta book ;) wise decision). So I tried to recollect some funny incidents that happened last month. My friend and I while walking up CMH road actually saw a rat commit suicide. Now I wouldn't call that funny but something that I remembered. But since I did not know much more about the rat it would be useless to write a blog on a silly rat that wanted to die.... But then.... What if that rat had lost all it's interest in life? What if it was cheated? What if somebody had moved...