Sunday, 26 December 2010

a look back - ghost of the year past

2010's been a blur. Honestly. For some months, I had to refer to previous posts. It's been a great year for shoes though! And books too, as I rediscovered my love for reading.

Let's recapitulate.. This is more for my benefit than to entertain you.

All through Jan-May: Last semester of MBA. In terms of studies, it was a fruitful sem, it made me glad I chose Marketing and I learnt a lot about it. Some relationships thrived, some suffered, but everything ended on a good note. The sole incident in April that held any excitement was that I fell down the stairs. It was thrilling. The pain was not and my phone lost a crucial key. I haven't replaced the key or the phone. Now it has a story behind it :D

June is a total blank.

July: A bloody AWESOME trip to Bombay.

August: Extractions and Gossip Girl. Period.

Come September and it was all about audieu, one mind blowing day out at a lake with my entire family and some of the best times I've had with my friends. Which inspired me to write this, so far the best post on this blog.

October: Interviews and a couple of amazing morning outs. And books.

November was a test of our hospitality as home was more like a guesthouse. My bff was down, then my cousin, then my mom's bff and after they left my grandmom (who I almost poisoned UNINTENTIONALLY, but let's leave that story for another time) and my cousins from Hyderabad for a couple of days in between. And another fab fab fabulousssso two trips to Bombay. Best month of the year - strengthening the bonds with family, friends and Damon Salvatore (YUMMY!) from The Vampire Diaries. I admit the relationship with the last is a bit one sided.

And December? I sliced the palm of my right hand. How, you ask? Indeed you should.
Well, I was walking. Maybe it was with a little skip. It was dark. The road was bad. And the rest of me decided to join my feet on the ground. My cousins helped me up and I felt a sharp stabbing pain in my right hand. I turned it and was surprised to see it trying to drown itself in my blood. I turned the palm down again lest they should see it and freak out. Which they did. What followed was people gathering and gazing at my hand in dazed horror, a rickshaw driver trying to stop the blood with 'spirit' (so he said which I suspect was his daru ki bottle), a two hour wait for a surgeon at Jehangir Hospital after the nurses patched me up and a lie down in the minor operation theatre getting stitches by the craziest doctor I'd ever met who made me promise my next holiday would be in Paris.

That's a promise I don't mind keeping.

And then there was my birthday. 23. Some great gifts. 'Nuff said.

Now I'm back in Kuwait. I've caught up with all the series worth watching (Outsourced is a good one), lost the mood for movies and have a whole bunch of books to read. The stitches and bandages are off but my skin still feels tight. I still love my own company and prefer to be left in solitude most of the time. My age is still mistaken to be around 15-18 years and I found in me a passion (of sorts) for photography after I was blessed with a hot purple compact camera (Canon SX210 IS - a cam so cool, so mod, it has sex in it! xD) which takes gorgeous pictures without giving me the need to tweak on photo editing software.
I have time to read again. My muse reaches out to me more often than it ever did before. And as long as I have that I don't need much more.

Except that holiday in Paris. ;)

Thursday, 23 December 2010

the tall and short of it

I have one sibling.
The sister.
The sister is 4.5 years younger than me.
The sister also towers over me by 3 inches at 5'7".
The sister and I are often asked if we are twins (this never fails to puzzle me deeply, we look nothing alike).
When we reply in the negative, the public, dissatisfied, then inquire if the sister is older than me.
Infallible logic but we have encountered it countless times.

Much the same thing happened yesterday.
Only nothing was asked, but assumed.
Whole new angle.

The sister was congratulated for completing MBA.
When the bungle was cleared, I was asked in wonder how the sister hit such a growth spurt and I am obviously stunted (not exactly in those words).
'God's will,' I usually reply, an answer which is a huge hit with older people (read uncles who are no relation).
But this time, I merely shrugged, weary of the whole act.

Image courtesy: a forward - how to kill time at work.

the biggest bloomin' roses

Every time we fly down from India, the first thing that catches your eye as you enter the house is a humongous bouquet of flowers on the dining table reaching halfway upto the ceiling. My dad places a rose on each of our pillows with a chocolate. This time it was a cream coloured rose with a pink tint and a Kit Kat.

Tuesday, 14 December 2010

my winter wonderland

If you're in Pune right now, you're probably feeling the chill. I love that it's finally cold enough to wear a sweater throughout the day. It's exceedingly gratifying to dust the woolens out of their prolonged hibernation.

Revelation for the day: Bad idea to get the remaining wisdom teeth extracted in winter when you're down with the flu and your immediate diet should include only ice cream and all things cold.
Yes, a very bad idea indeed.

Not that it matters anymore, as I intend to keep the rest of my teeth firmly attached to my jaw.

(rescued from drafts)