Why people get labeled 'loser', but whoa, the new Blogger dashboard's so shiny and hey, all of Blogger's so damn shiny, probably has been for months now and this is an insight into how fucking sporadically I blog and, wait... what was I talking about again?

Yep. The title could be a book. Get over it.


Until about a few months ago, my reaction all acts of stupidity of any degree was a seething insult, because, you know, no one has the right to be stupid. I understand lack of interest, but lack of intellect - not so much, because don't all of us have more or less the same equipment to get on with?


 I mean, really, what in the name of all that is ghastly is this?





And I'm glad to report that the stance hasn't changed one bit.


Also, Mr. Weather, sir? Will you just stop mucking about what with the ooh-it's-gonna-rain and hah-fooled-ya attitude already? I need some heavy precipitation to get my thoughts in order and write a blog that is bigger than a Tweet. Or one where at least the post is marginally bigger than the damn title.


Seriously.


(And there I go blaming my lack of absolute cohesion on the rain.)

Why do you smile that way? l never know if you’re judging me, absolving me or mocking me.

Delhi's like a lover I've had for nine straight years. A lover I've guarded extremely jealously. If I had a penny for every time I've gotten into a spat defending Delhi, I'd be cruising in a Bentley right about now. Okay, maybe not. But I would have had enough for an extravagantly sumptuous three-course meal. It's like the younger brother I never had, but fiercely defended.

But I've been bad, lately. Really, really bad. December last year saw me visiting Lucknow after an incredible 17 years. That's long, okay. That's so long that the only memory I had of having been there was of me walking the market streets with mom and realizing about 2 kilometers later that the woman holding my hand wasn't mom.


Yeaaaaaaah, about that. I was walking with a total stranger for 20 minutes and didn't have the slightest idea that something was wrong. Don't judge 4 year old me. 4 year old me was very easily distracted. Which reminds that I'm talking of Lucknow now. (Re)Discovering Lucknow was like finding a shoebox full of old pictures I thought I'd lost. Imagine a friend standing you up for a date. Then, imagine a friend from what seems like a long lost life turning up, a friend whose name you forgot, but filed away the face unconsciously because of the beautiful smile on that face. You see that smile, now a thousand times more brilliant and your heart leaps a little.


And you don't even know why.


But, Delhi, I'm not doing this to get back at you for all the nights I had to shake some pervert off my tail, or for the ones when I shouted myself hoarse bargaining for things to what they're really worth. I don't count the innumerable losses, some not so important, some that tore away a little bit of my heart with them. It's just that you're confusing me with your abrupt indifference. You haven't exactly turned away from me, but it's like you just wont look me in the eye.


I love you, Delhi, because of the nights you tended to my broken heart. The days you followed me with the your splendid summers, warming my insides just so.


I know this will pass, Delhi, don't let us fall slowly apart.

If I started apologizing for all my blogging relapses, this would be one sorry place

So, I got myself a fancy-schmancy new job (*pops collar, slicks hair back*) and have made plans to stick with it. Like, really. While that seems like the lamest line to use to tell you of a job that I'm on way to falling in love with, I stand by its ridiculous simplicity, like I do for my ridiculous everything. What I'm doing now is managing the content of a brand new discount portal and however much I'd like to - let's not take any names yet. For the very first time, I'm doing something that I enjoy so completely that it feels a bit like a dream. Although, doing that has brought some pretty wild trends to my notice, for example - people will buy the most ridiculous shit online (not quite sure if that's a real revelation), but what the hell - I won't pretend that I give a shit about what you blow your money on. Unless it's on a pony, in which case, man, do you rock!

However, a dream job does not necessarily translate into daily double-rainbow happiness. There are days when work's over and I'm like that guy from Napoleon Dynamite instantly labeling it the worst fucking day ever (I know he doesn't actually say fucking in the movie. I'm just paraphrasing.), but I have my moments. I'm making friends with Photoshop and failing abysmally, but I find consolation in being better at Photoshop than the Belarusians are at creating movie posters. Exhibit Un: 

That, by the way is the movie poster for 'Freaky Friday' (whaaaaaaaaat?) in Belarus. Lindsay Lohan looks like that runaway bride chick with the crazy eyes.  Jamie Lee Curtis looks like a transvestite from the future, or Joan Jett.

Anywho, apparently, I'm not the only one going through some major job change, what with Tobey Maguire no longer being a part of the Spiderman franchisee and Rebecca Romijn-Stamos leaving the X-Men seething. I, for one, am most unhappy, sir, with the aforementioned changes so Andy Garfield & Jennifer Lawrence can both go suck it.

Also, I've been toying with the notion of starting a Fashion blog. Taking into account the fact that I was away from this blog for, what's it now, 7-8 months, it seems highly far-reaching but I gotta set some goals, no?

Also, C&D (yours truly) is in love. So much. But that's a story for another time.

The Boy Who Lived (An Ode to Sacha)

The World Sounds Like: Brighter than sunshine - Aqualung


" I'm so happy there's nobody in my place instead of me
I'm a king without a crown, hanging loose in a big town
But I'm the king of bongo baby I'm the king of bongo bong"


You cook for me at the most godforsaken hours possible, only because you suspect I'm hungry.


You pester for all those late night wanderings that leave us with a hole in the pocket, but the biggest smiles on our faces.


You are the one who flatly denies my 'what-ifs' only to come out with a 'you-know-I-think-you're-right' later.


You are that person who's made me pick up my professional life and flush it down the toilet, only that I don't feel all that bad about it. It's not my generosity - it's simply the charm of spending time with you.


All those songs I had long forgotten, the ones that had once seemed to define me life at one time or the other, but had been locked up with the keys thrown away - you brought them all back. No one else can do it.


Somewhere at the back of your mind, you already know what you want in life. I love the fact that you still humour all of us by asking for advice and then acting upon it.


I can't be crazy all the time and, in spite of the popular opinion, I know you can't be crazy all the time either. I love the fact, though, that together we spend each second crazily.




Happy Badday, Sacha. There's no one else like you, A**u.