Being Silly

PHOTO PROMPT © Priya Bajpal

“This is silly.”

“Nothing is silly.”

Everything about this is silly! The colours, the jar, the little fountain…seashells? Really? Come on!”

“Suchita it is a birthday party…”

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On turning 29 #MondayMusings

I love auto rides and showers. There are no better places to contemplate life than here. Is it the journey or the flowing water that provides a conducive environment for thoughts to turn away from the hustle bustle of every day life?

A chance comment from MP – this is the last time you can say you’re in your 20s – and the subsequent realization that I’ll be changing boxes while filling standard forms led to the inevitable meltdown that I was turning old, I had no remarkable achievements to speak of and I’m still reliant on my parents to keep me alive.

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Intentions make the world go round

That time of the year – people are making resolutions, some have broken them already, some are rallying around the idea, some are talking about pending resolutions from 2015 like it is a TBR…on a side note have you noticed it never goes beyond 2015? No one has said my resolutions from 2003 are still pending. Maybe it’s just the power of memory that prevents us from remembering such uncomfortable and unhelpful truths.

My point is there are enough memes and jokes and opinions on the matter and this post is not going to be on why you should or should not make resolutions. But this post is going to be about intentions – in case the title didn’t give it away – sorry spoiler alert.

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Let’s paint the town red – or a heavily watered down red

As a child I was always decent at drawing and painting. I used to take classes and when you’re anywhere below 10 years old, arts and crafts as a hobby and subject are mightily supported by teachers, schools and the curriculum.

I stopped a long time back. But not until a conversation with an editor who was asking what I enjoyed did I realize I had nothing substantial to add apart from books and writing. It was a rude shock that I had zero hobbies since my hobby of reading and writing had turned into a job.

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Mama I killed a man

I woke up with a severe hangover. I made my way to the bathroom lazily. I glanced at the mirror wondering if I looked as terrible as I felt. I stood staring in horror at the grotesque skull grinning at me. It was one of those clean skulls, the kind you see in museums. As I moved closer, I heard the thin strains of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ start to play.

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