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Showing posts from 2015

I Really Lost My Mind This Diwali

Last week, I was rudely awakened at 6 am. I virtually spewed in the dark jabbing my stubby fingers all over the touch keypad of my phone shortly after : Is there nobody in this entire city who is accountable for this nuisance? Not a single officer who is promised a fancy promotion to ensure noise levels stay under a certain number of decibels? Not a single constable whose job it is go check year on year, the death toll of the animals, the deaf cases, the accidents caused during this Wonderful festival of lights? What is the purpose of this? Which God is being appeased? Is this not terrorism? How is this forgivable? When did the Festival of Lights become a Festival of Noise? Why does it have to noisy to be fun? What kind of person or groups of people take pleasure in this? Is he a sadist, is he someone who is only partaking in this because it is "cool" or "fun"? Is there a lack of entertainment options for these people in a city of Mumbai? What will it take

The Water Crisis Is Real And I Happen To Give A Solid Fuck About It

The situation is dire. India is just too ill-equipped in preparation of the impending water crisis. I want to significantly increase the catchment of freshwater resources with the aid of sustainable and modern water harvesting techniques. Artificial lakes should be made. Look at Dubai with her fake beaches. Powai lake is a living example of one. Why can't we identify more such properties and do it? Why can't each building, each open space have a big-ass tanky on the top? It's always worth considering observing sensible governance adopted by countries who have been taking the lack of water as a resource seriously. Australia is a remarkable example. What I love about them is that they charge everybody for water. The concept of having to pay for water in your monthly maintenance bill in the urban areas is something that could help control wastage. The miser in each one of us will probably be far more conscious about water being wasted if we are made to explicitly pay for

My Moonity

I am, and always have been, for as long as I can recall, utterly smitten by the moon. Nothing else is quite shocking, that blatantly reminding of the fact that we are a part of something beyond daily absurdities. Why I'm writing about my Moon Affinity (Moonity)? Because I am awake much earlier than expected on a public holiday and I've had a message from my sister asking me why both my status and profile picture on WhatsApp is about the moon. And because I gave her such a detailed reply, it only triggered the writer in me and I knew I would have to come and spew it all on this vastly ignored blog. My relationship with the moon has been cultivating itself from a very young age. My earliest memory of the moon is reading about it with my sister in this cute children's book. It was probably a different story or poem but I keep thinking it was in the same book or part of the story where there is a shoehouse where the house is a big boot, and people, or some kind of animals, w

I really don't know

Why I made my blog private for so many months Why I woke up one day and felt like it was something to hide Why I felt like it wasn't readable Just because it felt private all of a sudden? To share with the world so openly my musings To tell stories To write garbled songs of seemingly meaningless (or meaningful) meaning Maybe. But tonight I was reading a post. A really good post I wrote. And I felt like I couldn't relate to the talent that was the writing. The sheer volume of humour. The snide wit. The sneaky punnage. I felt ashamed. And I felt like I shyed away from that writer. And in doing so I forgot how to write. Readership or not, writing doesn't have to stop. But in my case, my writing did stop. My writing depended on the blog being private or public. I think. I really don't know though.

Love Cookies

The thing with a love so lovely is that it gives and gives That it refuses to take is so beautifully endearing Such love is purging and ever so sanct It makes you rather than breaks you It releases you rather than freezes you It is wide and deep and calm like the ocean Not like the rapidly flowing river Poor thing never gets to dry her hair The love makes you alive It lets you breathe It never seeks approval, forgiveness or reassurance And it opens your soul It sharpens your mind It is bright like light And it is warm. Like a freshly baked cookie.

Lilliputians are so Cute

With paralleling realities, there are infinite yet uninevitable possibilities of collision. If life was a boat people are passengers on it. Consistently documenting their journeys in anticipation of being read. Like tourists, taking snapshots and screenshots to share amongst themselves. The streams steadily meet the little rivers. Brave little hopefuls blindingly reaching out to vast unknown oceans. Only to be gobbled up and forgotten. Brains have grey coloured matter. That unfortunately does not grey the thoughts within. If it would. Every thing would be as it could. But, to settle it for good, every thing is as it should.

Yellow

Poetic, I find it: the fact that I am wearing pink Polish nail polish. Absurd, I find it: the fact that I have nothing to write about for months on end and then write this. Funny, I find it: the fact that I like where this whatever-this-is is going Sleepy, so not continuing this whatever-this-is Okay Bye