I've been gobbling down book after book. Its almost like I have a thirst that can't be quenched by any water of the world. I'm re-reading a few books just to refresh myself with the happiness that came along with it. Malory Towers for instance, I can't tell you enough how often I used to rent out that book from the library during my school days. The uncontrollable sobbing when Dumbledore and Dobby died. Then there was the Oliver Twist which was a part of the syllabus at school which I couldn't bear to complete then, and now it brings back so many fond thoughts. Oh how could I forget the treacherous Shakespeare!! I played the shrew in Taming of the Shrew during the school anniversary and it was terrorizing recording the dialogues with GLo and RC breathing fire down my neck trying to make me pronounce the words right. I still shudder when I think of the insults thatha screamed at me when he made me read the unabridged version before him to rehearse. The obsession with which Daps & I used to read Goosebumps and promptly report and share the experiences, priceless!
There are so many books that I still want to read, but somehow never got to reading yet. It feels incomplete to end the day without a few authors. And whenever someone asks me who my favorite author is, or what my favourite book is, I am always at a loss for wordsI feel that there is absolutely no other activity that gives any better joy than what the written word can make you experience.

Emma awaits. .

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As the irritation and anxiety creep higher and the summer heat shows no sign of going any lower. . I decided to follow as suggested by a mortal with a higher sense of weirdness, eat more mangoes !
So I make sure that I eat atleast 2 mangoes everyday. Its become like a ritual now, for every meal seems incomplete without one. I believe in eating them whole; not sliced, diced or peeled. I love to bite off the skin with the teeth and what pleasure it brings when the juices drip down the forearms down to the elbows leaving a orangish yellow trail. Digging your teeth into the fleshy pulp and smearing the face like a child. The cheeks, chin and the skin above the lip all sticky and mangoey !
So all of you who are tense or troubled or anxious - Go eat mangoes like there would be none tomorrow! Bring it on, sunshine !

Clearly, I've gone nuts! :|

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I cleaned one fourth of the book shelf today which is a part of my duty that is already overdue. I was forced to yield today mainly because the mother was close to her scream-threshold. So I got onto my section of the 4 part bookshelf which is mainly stuffed with whimsical purchases of pure reading pleasure from Crossword and Landmark. Anyways, so here I was duster in hand picking out books, fondly sifting through some books passed on by thatha with his side notes about narrations and references in green ink, running my fingers over the frayed and brittle pages. After picking out close to 40 books, I found about half a dozen notebooks from school safely tucked away at the back, all tautly wrapped in brown paper and labeled. It was a moment of pure joy to recall all the hullabaloo that used to happen at home a few days before school was due to reopen for the new term. Thatha and Maa hurriedly wrapping notebooks and textbooks with brown paper, thatha neatly and sometimes on request, fancily writing my name, class, subject name and roll number on the label in his calligraphic handwriting. The white uniform crisply starched and dry cleaned. New canvas shoes, socks and polish from Bata. Pestering paa for a new bag which would be relented only on obtaining the top grade in class. . sigh! Fancy pouches to hold stationary - what pride it used to bring to flaunt the flashy pencil boxes and fragrant erasers on the reopening day. New set of black clips and scrunchies to fasten hair. I'm so glad my school didn't insist on ribbons and plaits! Rushing through the dreaded holiday homework which was conveniently forgotten until the last day of the holidays.
Those were undoubtedly the best days of my life, no matter how they passed, nothing till date has brought so much joy and nostalgia to write about.

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What a gruelling month that was - May!

The sun beating down mercilessly, elevated electricity bills, a trip to bangalore, a friend's wedding, a million hits on this blog, catching up with a few friends after ages, uncertainity prevailing, mentally exhausting moments, Mavudu and Mangoes, physically tiring walks, a glimmer of hope, the same hope being shattered to nothing, Uno, late night bitching sessions, books waiting to be finished, An Equal Music, Johny howling his guts out and not letting us sleep, the unwillingness to throw away redundant items, seeing a loved one in pain, a totally addictive lingo, sitting and counting at the furnace like copy cat, advanced level of yoga, the desperate need for change, iPod begging to be charged and updated with a new playlist, delaying the cleaning of book shelves, the confusions, the longing, the dreams, the goals

- hoping June is more joyous, decisive and positively progressive.

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She read the note over and over again till she could recite it verbatim. It seemed to evoke mixed feelings from within her and she didn't know what to make of it. There was a sense of hope, yet along with it came a lot of uncertainty and anxiety. Should she be happy for the hope or distressed for what could happen otherwise? Maybe she should stop thinking about both and wait for time to bring answers as it does always. Why couldn't solutions come easier, Why isn't there some make-believe Utopian land where she could escape to from her marsh of thoughts? She wished, hoped, sighed all in vain.
Again, she read the note hoping to discover some underlying meaning to a few simple words. Words, they fail you when you need them the most and come tumbling through at all the wrong times. Weird things they are, words. They sting, soothe, encourage, praise, condole and make you feel all those things when strung together, that you can only experience and never express.

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The brush made random strokes across the canvas. Pastels and oils sprayed, spewed and spilled. Crayons treading uncharted boundaries across the center. Some blotched, some merely spread in a fit of anger. Some caressed and rubbed by the palm, rest diffused beneath it. The fingers hued with acrylics. The once white t shirt had no white anymore. Here he was, a small blot in the painting class amidst the rest.

Also,
A million hits ! Over 4 years! Witnessing the growing up. Thank you! :)

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I have never been good at outdoor sports. My foray into sports started and ended with swimming (which I am thankfully good at!) and badminton! I still recall the days when I used to watch(I'm just too ashamed to call it fielding) all my cousins play cricket or volleyball in the lanes near our house. I was always asked to "stand the farthest and run after the ball if it ever came in my direction. But most of the times, it wouldn't. And whenever I was asked to throw a ball, it would never take a parabolic path and always end up in all the possible wrong directions like a wimp! Oh forget that, to catch a ball, it just takes too much of an effort for me to see the ball when thrown and coordinate the locomotion accordingly. In the name of catching, I would end up clapping my hands together and closing my eyes hoping the thing would miraculously land in my hands somehow. Some of the times, I would even end up sprawling on all fours with my vain attempts. That was when my family(who apparently are good at some sport or the other) decided that I was never going to even be mediocre on the track or manage to catch something that was thrown to me. Trust me, they would party if I ever caught something. I think its mainly because I have an innate talent of being clumsy. I can't walk from one place to another without bumping my foot against something, or upsetting stuff that was placed on the way. My mother would still yell "Careful" when I stood anywhere remotely close to her favorite vase! And whenever my aunts asked me to carry stuff, my mum used to watch me like a hawk, waiting to clean up after I'd tumbled or spilled. Regrets apart, I've had my share of running around and covering myself with mud and scraping my knees and palms during games and a sound share of blasphemy from mom and a good dosage of tetanus for the same.
Anyways, I'm a definitely a little less clumsy now and put all my efforts into behaving ladylike.
Hey, where's the appreciation? :P

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