Odd Woman Out

To read the story of my menial life, you will simply have to wait for the paperback. But until then, read this, if you must REALLY know.

If given a choice, I wouldn’t budge from a hammock in a grassy meadow, where I would lie dreaming. Having said that, I have never used a hammock. I believe that Life is Beautiful. And I try to look for surreal signs to prove that. I go to the church and come out admiring the beauty of the flowers arranged at the altar. I trace raindrops dripping down a windowpane and sigh happily. I lick on orange-flavored ice candies and wish they would never end. I buy roadside junk jewelry and allow them to gather dust in my cupboard. I cry when I hear some songs. I laugh when I watch people. I dig Malayalam movies for their sheer simplicity and directness (If you disagree on this point, we have a movie date to set up). I am selfish about my solitude on Saturday afternoons. Yet, I yearn for people to be around me, at all times. My music ranges from head-banging Metal to mushy ballads, ghazals to oldies—anything that sounds nice to my ears. Rohinton Mistry enchants me. Bittersweet memories haunt me. So I capture them in my butterfly net and pin them down on another space in Cyberworld.

I read. I try to write. I sing. I play. I travel. I wander. I meander. I succeed. I fail. I judge. I am judged. I hope. I pray. I exist.

And above all, I Live.