Mundane Musings

I'm presently sitting contently in front of my laptop, trying to meet some work deadlines. But all I can think of is the delicious lunch I have had an hour ago. If there is indeed a temporary heaven for gastronomically satisfied bellies and stuffed hearts then mine would already have found a place there; instead of trying to sit and make sense of words in a document and put that into some sense. The meal was a simple, home-cooked fare - rice, nachikota keerai sambar , potato fry, tomato rasam and curds. I shall leave humility aside and accept that it was a good day in the kitchen and all items were very tasty. Every element was a lip smacking addition to our meal, which by itself should have elevated the lunch to nirvana status. But for me it was the combination of the various elements on my plate that contributed to a perfect mouthful. The pairing of the right dishes that look ubiquitous on the plate but transcend all expectations when they touch the tongue and give that sock ...

I do this all the time... this last minute scrambling. For weeks I have been seeing ads, and more ads of the Great Indian Festival, Diwali sales and what not. I didn't budge. I snorted in disgust at this blatant attempt of conning people into spending their hard earned money. I was not going to sway. There was no necessity to, in the first place, I told myself. I don't celebrate Diwali and S was not very picky himself. So I sat through it all, until suddenly the Gang decided to come over to our place to watch fireworks for Diwali. That turned things around. From sitting on the side and smirking smugly at the whole jamboree, I now suddenly seemed to have become a part of it. I was now pushed to being a hostess. Our building is best suited for this pass time as it was bang in the center of a large North Indian population and the skyline on the days leading up to Diwali is generally lit up in giant sparkling colours. It is such fun watching the fireworks from atop th...

This particular ‘month that was post’ is quite unlike the previous few happy, filled to the brim with engagements that I have to write a post kinds. The irony is not lost on me. September was my birthday month. And many things were supposed to have happened – the very air should have tingled a bit, the flowers to bloom a bit more and you know and the earth should have tilted in its axis a bit. In dread of faltering  But I started the month with a melancholy state of mind that just wouldn’t pass. Try as I might, I couldn’t shake off the feeling of uselessness and over-ratedness of the very act of living a life. The questions juts kept coming, unchecked, unwarranted...what have I achieved so far, what is there to show of 39 years on this earth, have I utilized my intelligence and smartness to the fullest, where does this motley group of friends with their idiosyncrasies and uniqueness figure in the larger picture of my life, am I setting the right goals for Anakutti, am I too...