One new word.

“You make me feel happy, like one would feel before vomiting butterflies.
The stomach lurches, it churns and I feel uneasy and shifty, if I may say so. And then, it begins to hurt. It hurts so much that I feel pleasured. Long ago, I had read that the pain and pleasure centers are the same in the brain. See? Even God knew how much we love being in pain. The pain gradually magnifies and I know that it will happen any moment now. I rush to the nearest window and inhale. Deep breaths, one after the other. Fresh oxygen. I had also read that most of the air we breathe in is actually nitrogen. We believe in so many lies. And then, precisely at that moment, a host of colourful, patterned and beautifully delicate butterflies fly out… no, burst out of my mouth. Her eyes squinted and hands moved.  You make me ecstatic. But, this love is extremely painful. It is so revoltingly attractive that there are times I want to bring you closer, entice you, seduce you and kiss you so deeply that you bleed. I want to leave you gasping for air, fearing that your life might end and yet, you would be asking for more. You want me, and only me at that moment and all I want to give is what you ask for. So, my darling, Happy birthday!”

Nikhil was stunned. He knew what he was walking into the day he had moved in with Maya, but this? She could write, think and comprehend emotions and better yet, express them in such lucid language using words in ways he never knew they could be, it made him blush like a six year old girl facing her crush for the second time in one day.

“Gosh, Maya! Oh My Gosh! Thank you seems to be such a sorry word to say after what you just…”
Maya would never allow him to finish his sentences. Partly because she already knew what he was trying to say and partly because she knew he wouldn’t be able to complete it without fumbling and then feeling bad.
You’re welcome. See, even I can utter the banalities” She winked at him and scooted closer to snuggle into his arms. Nikhil knew he should be thanking God too, for giving him the pleasure of meeting her, no, for making her love him for he knew she was too good to be true! “Even the banalities sound eloquent when you say them.” He sighed.

“Why did you sigh?” Maya spoke into his chest, her head softly resting on his precordium. She had read that the area of the chest lying directly over the heart was called the precordium. Now she had a word for her favourite part of his chest!
“You know, even my thoughts aren’t as well-rounded as your words. I think with words like pleasure and making.

“Yes, those are words too!”  She laughed at his childishness.
“I would never be good enough for you, Maya. Why do you want me? I mean…”
“Wait! Where did that come from, Tiger?” Maya wasn’t fond of this conversation. She had never answered it either. It seemed to be something that kept haunting him, perennially and she required that he find the answer himself.

“Love without reason lasts the longest” Maya replied to him without looking up. Her ears were still listening to his beating heart with equal intent. Its rhythm had quickened but his chest was moving up and down with each breath, slowly and constantly. He was alive and that was the only answer she needed.

He would never understand the way she felt about him, because of him. She had never felt joy of this kind before he had blazed through her life. It was like an addiction for her. The more she got of him, the lesser it was. She had grown to fall in love with the nuances; his inability to express himself yet his face saying the entire story with surprising detail, his appreciation of her quirk for finding new words and facts, his acknowledgement of the very simple truth that he, was in fact, her fix.

Nikhil looked at her as she pulled away from his entangled arms to rest herself on the chair in front of the study. In one swift movement, she flicked the yellow lamp on, took out her notebook and ink pen and began scribbling. She was at work once more– her mind working its magic again.
She was beautiful, he thought to himself. ‘Beautiful’; such a shallow word for a woman with so much more to her than just that. He didn’t even have an appropriate word to describe her and there she was, effortlessly drawing loops, and crossing her Ts and dotting her Is– writing one breath taking paragraph after another and saying words which made him feel like he was the only man in love. He looked at his hands, the very hands that were cradling hers a few brief yet intoxicating moments ago, and wished that he has a word for her. He went in to shower, knowing full well that she would now be engrossed in her creation for sometime now. He kissed her forehead and went in.

The sound of the shower and tender fragrance of his soap reached outside; she breathed in deeply, itched her shoulder and continued to write.

She jumped right out of the chair. “What? You scared me!” She looked at the page of her notebook, soaked in black ink and the nib of her pen now lay broken. “What a beautiful mess, this is” She sang, and laughed, with her head tilting back to just the perfect degree. Her eyes would always close when she did that, after being witty. “That was a mighty quick shower! Did you forget something?”

“I have got the word. I have the word for YOU.”
She smiled and waited patiently for him to come toward her.
She was wearing his white shirt. Her smooth legs were crossed, the right over the left. Her toes were painted a bright fuchsia, chipped at the edges. Her fingers were long, artsy and now, ink-stained. Her hair was tied in to a bun, loose strands escaped from it to break free and kiss the nape of her neck. His shirt embodied her fragrance. She had an ink mark on her left cheek, right next to her lip. Her lips, so luscious, so full, curved into a smile. Her eyes, awaiting his words, questioning his sudden quiet stare. But he wanted to stare; he wanted to record every tiny detail of the moment. He wanted to remember the food stain on the right sleeve, the twinkle of her diamond ear ring, the outline of her waist, the time- 7:56 in the morning.

Just this once, only this once, he did not let her complete when she began speaking. He kissed her.

“Fiancée”, he whispered, proudly and anxiously.

“That’s perfect, just perfect.” And she had her fix for the day, she was higher than ever and she knew that she had made the right choice. She rolled her lips out and slowly uttered the new word for her, F-I-A-N-C-E-E, and watched him silently dance back into the bathroom. The sound of the shower and the familiar smell of soap flooded her senses again, and she knew that she was home.


I have not been active AT ALL on my blog for the last, i don’t know how many days. I’m sorry. I had work in college + exams + I was being lazy. I kept thinking to myself ‘no one reads it as it is so no one will miss it either’. So that is how I, lets say motivated myself to give it up. No, not because I was busy but because I thought this was not worth it. It was like one of those things I started but never really finished- not a virtue, I must confess.
I have a lot of things on my mind, something that happens to me quite often. I have tonnes of ideas lined up in my head but when it comes to the writing, the real deal; it all fizzes out somehow. So i have decided that I will name the posts as 101, 102, so on and so forth and write down each thought. Might get boring but oh well, I try my best.
So, this post will cover two things. 1 is gossip and the other is business.

1) One cute guy started dating one dumb girl. And when I say dumb, I mean dumb, not in a blonde combs-her-hair-after-car-wreck way but in a doesnt-know-2-plus-2 way. And he, is cute! So nice and intelligent too. And i fail to fathom how she roped him in! No, seriously, there must have been some magic dust involved. There must have been wizardry and maybe, just maybe, seduction. How is it that blondes get smart asses of men and vice versa? Is there some unwritten rule in Mother Nature where the main objective of co-creation is for the not-so-blessed to copulate with the ‘given’? Why?
Okay let us take the example of my super awesome (sarcastic) college. There are like 40 students in 1st year, 25 in my batch, i.e 2nd year and about 45 in the 3rd year. among this small number, we have like a trillion couples. the college, after class hours becomes a miniature version of Victoria Memorial at dusk, if you know what I mean. it is almost as if their sole objective to attend college is to find someone to marry! And I am not exaggerating they refer to each other as hubby and wife from the first frigging day of their ‘relationship’.
Yes okay, you feel like kissing, making out, hell, even having sex so do that- find a girl (or a guy) and then do it in a room. Why mate like, mate for marriage? And trust me when I say that most of them have settled for each other because they feel being in a relationship is the ultimate form of inner peace, and all this from a guy (yes he actually said that to me, in Bengali of course) who doesn’t even know how to drive a car. YES, I AM THE ONLY ONE IN MY COLLEGE WHO KNOWS HOW TO DRIVE.

So help me understand why people end up dating funny partners when there is so much more to do. Okay yes the couples look hilarious to me from outside while there might just be real love within but I am not blind. Anyway, I hope they give me good food to eat when they do get married. All my questions will be shushed by the oily maach they serve, woohoo 😐

2) I might just end up being a content writer for a company so YAY! More on this, later…once things get finalised and started. Also, I made decision. Most of the times I don’t blog is because i have to put up pictures, which take up time and effort and I is lazy bum. So, I will only out up pictures if I feel it is easy to find. Meanwhile, when I was away from blogging, I got daily hits out here. I just checked my Stats and they are pretty okay, given the frequency with which I write (or don’t). I got a few more followers and ‘likes’ on Facebook too. that’s cheered me up.

– Stay tangled.

OH, and Happy Birthday to Sneha! I love you, more than you know!

There is no relation whatsoever of this picture with the text. Dont go searching!

This one does. I need to stop our kids from turning out to be half dim-wit people!

Few Words:

The four words which make a girl feel elated, absolutely thrilled, which make her genuinely happy are not Will You Marry Me?
They are You Have Grown Thin!

The most satisfying experience isn’t sex. It is a) licking on melting chocolate b) to go shopping and find clothes that make you look sexy or whaaaa.

Horoscopes : the one thing no one will agree to believe in yet have a stash of the ‘star sign’ bookmarks. I know you do too.

Everyone gets scared when a baby starts crying and the mother isn’t around. A baby is cute as long as it’s not yours when it poops and cries.

There is no better feeling in this world than the feeling after a good shit faecal excretion! Trust me, it can take you from Ah to AaahaaAAaa.

People fart.

Farts stink. And the bed vibrates while you feel someone else ‘pass air’

‘I Love You’ is less likely to make a girl say it back to you. Do something to make her say it to you first. Smart boy, she wants to say it to you, just give her one frikkin’ chance!

There is a God.

There is Evil too.

You still need to survive.

(this post is getting serious)

Follow a sport. Any sport. Do it with all your heart and you will know exactly why I asked you to.

Love isn’t life. Music is.

Set your priorities straight. Trust the right people.

Read something inspiring as often as you can.


And… Stay tangled. (:

Why Marriages Fail.

I fail to understand a few things which everyone else seems to be pretty comfortable with. Maybe I just AM socially weird. Social rebel. Just a rebel.

This post is about marriage. No, not the marriage and why its not supposed to be ‘the’ deal breaker for me *thats for another post, sometime*.

This one is going to be about why marriage is such a big deal. I’ll tell you why. Because, in India, it is seen as something permanent. And permanence scares everyone. Permanence doesnt see nationality, reason or event. It’s the same reason why one would think twice before a getting inked on the face with a big fat dragon tattoo!

I don’t understand why it has to be the beginning of a new phase. Yes it is impotant. Yes you marry the one you always want to be with. But what if it doesn’t fan out the way you had day-dreamed it to? Marriage is just a very long term relationship which is recognised by the law, to come to think of it.

So just like we ‘break up’ why can’t we break off a marriage? Why does a divorced person have a separate tag? If you’re posting for a matrimonial advert, will you mention being dumped by your boyfriend? No. But a divorced man or lady will have to mention this baggage. Baggage- mark my words.
Sad, eh?
The Indian society has to accept the tiny fact that marriages fail. That people are not meant to always be together. That this pressure causes lives to be lost. That marriage isn’t supposed to about permanence but about the present!
Maybe then, the fear of marriage, of being committed for as long as one wants the forever to be will fade.
Maybe then, I will want to get married.
Maybe then, they will know what marriage truly means.


I now pronounce you man and . . .