Sunday, July 19, 2009


I am aware that this blog is reserved solely for ranting convenience of self, but I simply must record that the weather here for the last week has been beyond excellent. I have heard it said and I must now agree that there is nothing more beautiful to watch than the metamorphosis of a desert land in the rain.

My spirit is exploding in little electric spurts of happiness, at my fingertips, as I write this. :)

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Where the snowflakes were still, but I was floating up...

Laughing, burning heat, and you can't see farther than five feet in front of you because the white metal sun has lit up on everyone's head, where each hair is a wick and every wick has caught fire in a tiny explosion of light, and you shut your eyes, and people are a talking, laughing, gently undulating sea of blue shoes and brown umbrellas and white noise around you, and then suddenly, without warning, the noise is gone and you're all alone in a vacuum, and the happy, oblivious world does not even notice. One moment of isolation so complete it feels like you're drowning, and your mouth, your throat, your nostrils are filling with loneliness so fast that you can do nothing, and all that there is the world, in your head, in the universe, is you.

And in that one moment if you realize that you like yourself, you know that you will be safe anywhere.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Dorks PWn.

...also, how much do you love me? Show me. Buy me a tee shirt. :D

Seriously, though, just because I am a dork with an affection for androgynous clothing does not mean that I too, cannot have a fashion wishlist. The existence of couture thankfully means that the term 'fashion' can be prodded into literally any direction. Exhibit A:

Also, the fact that fashion tends to repeat itself means that sometimes dorks can be credited with prescience. You are absolutely correct, I DID precede Heidi Klum in the boyfriend jeans trend. *smug* The poor man's Micheal Kors, that's me. And now I define this year's trend in tee shirts. Not just any tee shirt, no. Tee shirts wholeheartedly espousing the cause of Dorkdom. Tee shirts celebrating the superiority of Dorkhood. Tee shirts that would gel fabulously with the persona of people with usernames like prince_of_dorkwood. Not that I know anyone with that username, of course not. (J, you can hide inside my cupboard until the scary internets peoples go away. There's a good dork, now.)

In keeping with being on the cutting edge of fashion, I will now present my all time favourite tee shirts. Needless to say, I possess none of them, although websites selling them have invited my lascivious attention for very long. Here they are, in any case. Kindly direct your drool to the comments section -

1. "ARMANI - Just another Sindhi tailor" - What, I ask, is not to love?

2. "FREE TIBET - with purchase of another Tibet of equal or greater value." - Let's see; one small territory fighting heroically for a semblance of independence from a modern behemoth? check. Poignant photos of the Indian youth expressing intellect and solidarity at Janpath? check. Several weighty philosophical, moral and legal issues? check, check and check. Good, ya. Where's the popcorn?

3. "PillowFight Club" - That's right. If it's your first day here, you must fight. And if you don't know who Tyler Durden is, please go back to drooling over The Notebook posters.

Front of t-shirt -

Right side corner (even more awesomeness.) -

And that covers, for me, as of July 13 2009, the Holy Trinity of tee shirts. Subject to change at any time, of course.

In case you are wondering if this is the (lukewarm, you think?) limit of my passion for fashion, I'll have you know that I also do possess a healthy appreciation for Christian Louboutins. However, while my relationship with these t-shirts is convivial, my relationship with Loubous is like yours with God - stand at a distance and WORSHIP, ye undeserving. :D

I leave now, but always remember - I am a Dork, and all your base are belong to us.

Over and out.

The One with the Halfhearted Chocolate and the Morally Upright Parakeet.

White chocolate icecream with hot coffee syrup snaking black, sticky trails of awesomeness all over it. I am not really a dark chocolate person anymore, I think. To truly be a dark chocolate person requires just a soupcon more snobbery than I feel capable of at this moment. At the moment, I am not feeling capable of much more than a languid sort of snobbery. I am not feeling capable of much more than a general sort of languidity at all, actually. The comparison I am trying to draw is between a ferociously active 24x7 Queen-Mother sort of snobbery ("WE are ROYALTY. We look like HAW-ses, go to EE-ton and pet our CAW-gis") as opposed to a half-hearted, minor-English-aristocrat brand of snobbery ("I'm sorry dah-ling, we only do snobbery from two to four on Tuesday evenings, could you please go away now so we can bathe our temples in Eau d'Cologne, lie gracefully on our French chaise and have our aristocratic afternoon headache in peace.") . I now subscribe to the latter school of thought. More energy-saving, I find. It is to reason, then, that I enjoy white chocolate better now. Also, I prefer Milkybars to Lindt Blanche Truffles. Thus do the great fall, eh?

White chocolate, incidentally, is a thing after my own languid heart. It is so halfheartedly chocolate that it isn't even chocolate.

Outside, the sky is a sharp, clear blue. The air is cold and crisp. The grass is green. There are puddles everywhere. I spent a significant portion of my morning personally paying my respects to each individual puddle. I am now left with itchy calves and feet, and a pair of boxer shorts resplendent with grass stains and high caste Rajput mud. That is, I think Rajputs are high caste.

Company Law, I think, is beyond my understanding. The professor tends to bandy words like 'debentures' and 'equity' with an ease that is frankly frightening. I had an earnest discussion on the topic this morning with a delightfully green parakeet. While the specifics of his opinion escaped my comprehension, I concluded that he felt strongly on the issue by the explosive manner in which he shed a hundred bright green feathers when I asked him, and followed it up promptly with a rather forceful poop on the local tree branch. Having metaphorically expressed his opinion of insider trading thus, he flew away with silent dignity. I have a new respect for parakeets, those chaps do understatements rather well.

Birds remind me, Hark! I believe I am hearing the soft and distinctive call of that rare and elusive species, the Carpenteris Jodhpurus. I quietly open my door. I see his earthy plumage. I shall slink off and attempt to trap him forthwith, with the aid of my indisputable charm and whiny voice. I have a shelf that lost its battle with gravity six months back, that needs to be restored immediately.

A wooden shelf, I meant.

A wooden bookshelf.


How much I am loving you all. :)