done your years in a K.V.?

more simpoo

one of the rare celebrity endorsements for PETA that doesn't involve nudity.

once upon a time on a channel called V

dwelled a sardar, who multi-tasked in a Kendriya V.
button nose, scraggly mush, some squiggles for a beard,
simpoo was his name, but he claimed his fame as sondhi zee.

outside the window is a grey day over a grey church spire

हलकी सी धुंध है बाहर
तीखी सी ठंड है बाहर
धूप उगाने जाना था मुझे
पर बहुत दूर आज है सागर

i would be rather writing crap poetry than reading about theories on vulnerability.

wednesday

she woke up groggy and fumbled for her phone to check the time. it was late in the morning .

"you should have woken me up."

he said "it's okay," and held her close. he added after a pause, "staying awake in bed like this is called ausnopfazn in german."

awake for a moment, she replied, "in english, it's called lie-in."

here we go again

certain patterns in life just don't go away, even after we have uncovered them and would rather unravel them and knit a new story.

if you have fallen in love with a mirage before, chances are you will again.

the girl who loved spice

apart from my m.a. degree, this year has given me my love for cooking (and a non-defensive acceptance of domesticity but i am not ready to come out yet).

so, cooking... i will probably never be a great cook. but that's the other thing. i no longer care about greatness.

debriefing for re-entry

it strikes me only now when i am mentally preparing myself to get back home that northern europe is completely free of chootiyas and haraamis. unbelievable but my year here has been absolutely free of any sexual harassment bar a couple of exceptional encounters.

when i walk in the city, i don't have to shrink so that my boobs don't stick out too much into the public space. if i am returning home late at night and someone walks past me on the street, the hairs on my nape don't stand up in fear of an assault. on the streets, i don't fight everyday battles against non-physical violation of the male gaze.

i don't know whether the commonplace disrepsect for a woman's body and the swarms of depraved hormonal lunatics are a product of patriarchy or sexual repression or both, but the streets of delhi are a regular battlezone.

and i am already tired at the thought of the daily skirmishes.

on the record

coffee break is over. about time too as i was getting giddy with my own wholesome happiness.
not that i am a spawn of satan, but faking good cheer at all times is exhausting.
oh the things we do for our progenitors.

time to go home

60 days to departure.

in the aftermath

he winced 'you had a crush on me?'
she said, 'umm... yes.'
he asked reluctantly 'and now?'
she said with convincing confidence 'don't worry, it's under control.'