Tag Archives: personal

Weekly Photo Challenge: Near and Far

10 Sep

Part II: My second attempt at NEAR and FAR

Whoever said only babies happen [accidentally] *from the backseat*, well I know photos do, too… and here’s a proof. NEAR I am to the “driver”, FAR is the car ahead…

from the backseat…

Righting the Wrong

9 Sep

Find the usage of eir and emself on this post here by Anglophonism.

Although I was trying to make a statement with my little attempt-at-scribbling above, let us not forget that I am single-handedly leading a s1ngle life. Which means, my parents would have always done me wrong unless there is a chance I become a “parent” all by myself. However, I have to emphasise that not everything they’ve done is wrong.

So the question is, where and how have they wronged me?

FIRST instance I remember is when my Dad readily accepted the fact that I was embarrassed to be seen with him. Come on!!! I was just into my teens and I didn’t want to be seen escorted around by my parents. The fact that he accepted that fact approved another fact that it’s all right to be embarrassed of your own Dad. Maybe he was trying to be the *understanding* dad, but NOOOOOOOOOOO…. he wronged me, then.

I think, in total retrospect, he should have made me sit and asked me to be proud of him. I know I’d have never listened to him but then again he SHOULD have tried. I didn’t know how badly the damage had been done until I realised I was embarrassed about (read: ashamed of) everything concerning me.

SECOND: unlike my Dad, my mom tagged along everywhere and as often as she could. It was unbearably unbearable. She wronged me, too. She, too, like my dad, never made me sit and talked me into tagging along or doing the mother-daughter bonding. She forced herself which made me loathe *authoritarianism*. I hope there’s a word like that. I was now not just embarrassed to be seen with my Mom towing around but hating her for doing things she liked just because she was THE MOM.

Whatever could have happened to a talk-session with a teenage daughter then… I wish I could go back in time and tell them to make me sit and then “talk to me”, “speak to me” and enlighten me.

My mom’s the most practical-to-the-core woman I’ve ever met and ever will [I’m sure] and because opposites attract, my Dad is just the opposite. He believes in utopia, to which my mom is bound to ask “Is it in Europe?” Now you get it, right? Which brings me to the THIRD wrong they did me.

I wanted to belong to the “beat generation”, to smoke weed, to be a part of the Woodstock fair, thanks to my Dad. My mom ridiculed me every time I voiced my wishful-thinking thoughts. As if this wasn’t enough… Whenever I talked about how my Dad could save money if we ate at a small diner instead of the fine-dining restaurant – I got a scowl. Well, my dad was/ still is a man of few words and a lot of scowls.

They may never have known what such actions could do to a daughter trying to grow up sound-minded. Well, look at me now… I am nothing but a repercussion of those ridicules and scowls. I am *confused* always.

For the FOURTH wrong, they’ve taught me “chivalry” (???) I know!!!

Yes, I am the one who’ll forever be seen standing inside the bus/ train or even airplane [if need be]. I am the one who left my seat for an expecting lady only to get scowl that resembled my dad’s because she was in shape [of course, if round is a shape]. I also say “Ladies First” and then get scowls from strangers which automatically enlightens me and then entitles me to leave first. Why was chivalry necessary?

Instead, they should have taught me to get up, stand up for my right and not for the slightly round ladies. They should have made me see the privilege of being a girl… how we can shout “equal opportunities” every time we feel slighted and then get off the Titanic first 😀 and then go on to survive to watch a movie weaved around the accident.

And lastly but not the leastly… FIFTHly, how could they not make me listen to the Beatles? Imagine my shame at being caught not knowing Beatles’ song while trying to belong to the Beat generation. I don’t blame my over-the-top pragmatic mom but whatever made my Dad commit such crime… They should have put me in a strait jacket and blasted the radio (??? I’m guessing there were radios then). I’m sure I wouldn’t have blamed them for turning me deaf. Maybe then I’d have proudly stated that they did right because it would have happened listening to the BEATLES.

THE RESULT [of being wronged this way]—> s1ngal.wordpress.com Well, because they’ve wronged me, I’m righting writing… and all the credit goes to ME! B-)

Travel theme: Red

8 Sep

Somehow, I had never been fascinated by RED and so seeing this week’s Travel Theme: Red, got me into deep thinking… and it was amazing to see so many REDs around me… Had it not been for this theme, I’d have never been able to see RED the way I see it now. Hearty thanks to Ailsa @ http://wheresmybackpack.com and her *theme*

You’ll find the genius of red here –> http://wheresmybackpack.com/2012/09/07/red/ and someone trying to make a feeble attempt below:

McDonald’s is so strongly associated with Red for me that…. I had to post it here

McDonald’s is definitely red [and yellow]

I also happen to have painted my nails red [while travelling]

another RED [and yellow]

Can there be a better way to finish than with some DESSERT…

strawberry syrup – definitely RED

DO i smell BEER :)

6 Sep

Confession of a teetotaler: Bear with me, I smell beer.

I don’t mean I can smell beer around the house or on someone, I can smell beer on myself. The question may thus arise: Why?? How??? A teetotaler??? LOL????

Confession of a single Girl: I am a teetotaler.

Being a teetotaler could be one reason why I have been able to retain my singlehood. I mean how else can an intoxicated drop-dead-lady-in-red gorgeous girl survive being single…. :ahems:

TO all my polar opposite binge beer-drinking compatriots, I love each one of you… plus apologies if the barrels above aren’t pouring beer already [I wanted them to, errr].

Which brings me back to my first confession. I am smelling beer. Another apologies, this time to the members of AA who might have had to fight the temptation just because I’m smelling beer. I know what such little triggers can do ~ I was addicted to smoking, still am… managed to stay clean for the last 2 years :swells with pride:

So why do I smell beer? No, not only because my sense of smell is extraordinary… thank you.

Because, actually I had a beer-shower today. Why? Some friends stayed over last night guzzling drinking beer and the leftover was too much to throw away. They cost money… duh!!! Sorry, -another- actually Beer is a natural errr man-made natural conditioner and I’ve read it somewhere that it lightens your hair. No, I am not aiming to become a blonde [but then again being a drop dead hot blonde can always be a gorgeous option]. Well, mine’s a mane you’d want to have for yourself. I have straight silky hair and I have had them even before straighteners became a must. At times these too-tamed tresses get on my nerve and this is when experiments happen [not always are my experiments conditioneral].

Besides if you’ve been a teetotaler and intend to be one, all your life, there are times like today [for me] when you want to break the rules and try to smell like someone who’s drenched in beer – which is almost what I did today. The attention I got was amazing. I thought looks was all that mattered :sigh: one’s gotta smell beer too… :another sigh:

…and it’s time to wash my hair, with water this time 😉

will post the result if I don’t forget</blockquote

Weekly Writing challenge: A Few of My Favourite Things

5 Sep

– A Few of My almost-Favourite Things

Yesterday, when I first saw the topic for this week’s writing challenge, I smiled to myself because it made my heart go “Oh, it’s going to be easy…” Then I clicked -Add New Post- and have been staring at the computer ever since [besides it’s staring back at me].

I have so many favourites that I’m shocked at not finding anything that can be included in A Few of My Favourite Things. When did this transition from too-many-to-pick-from to nothing-at-all take place? How did I let this happen? Which/ What and Where are A Few of My Favourite Things???

The more I thought of this topic, the further down I went into my past.  And then I realised when it had all started –> the detachment.

One of My almost Favourite Things I remember as a child was postcards. By 11 I was a proud owner of a little more than a hundred of these sent by people from all over the world to any and all in my family. It didn’t matter to me, whether the messages at the back were meant for me…. they always ended up in my treasure box. One day when I returned home from school, a little bird told me that someone had hideously burned my collection up in flames. Oh, how I cried myself to sleep that night!! Ever since, I haven’t been able to pin *favourite* on things the way it was then, with my postcards.

Over the years, it’s indeed been a bit too difficult for me to point out my favourite things and mean it from the bottom of  my scarred heart. I had and still have many favourite things, in passing, which is why my friends and family can write out  this list at the drop of a hat. But for me, I’ve fought the hurt and tried to label *favourite* in a few things being mentioned here.


one of my FAVOURITE things

Being a person who loves to drool in the past [and daydream into future], I have developed this obsession of associating my memories with fragrance. Every heartbreak, every new job, every new twist and turn in my life have been accompanied with a smell… All my almost-empty bottles from my teenage years till the day I left home were neatly put in a shelf back at my parents’ house. I don’t know if it’s still intact, though. After leaving my family home, I’ve been practically living my life out of a suitcase. These days, if I want to travel back in time I go to a perfume shop and sniff the memory I want to relive and that’s it.


a few of my FAVOURITE things

Knowing how much I love to write… diaries, notebooks, writing pads make ideal gifts for everyone to present me. As the scars of yester-years began to fill, these bundles of wonder have become one of my favourite things, too. It’s a must for a loner like me, a single by choice like m and simply-wonderful person LIKE ME.


too lazy to assemble my pieces & take a pic… not mine

My recent favourite, this one began when I shaved my head in 2010, I began sporting earrings. Up until last year, earrings may rightly be called theee favourite thing. I don’t go out without one, even though the hair’s grown longer. I love the way these danglers dangle in my earlobe-less ears and make me feel like a woman.


I had to mention *minesweeper* because it always gets left out. Saying I play this little meaningless computer game a lot is an understatement. I’m obsessed with *minesweeper*. The first application I ever downloaded on my i-touch was *minesweeper* and the same later with my iphone. Just had to get this out –> it’s one of the Few of My Favourite Things, anyway. [Having Gael watch me play minesweeper is an added advantage].

Image Source:

Diary Picture: http://linedjournals.com/lined-leather-journals.html

Earrings:  http://fashiontrendsandcolor.com/2012/06/fashion-jewelry-2012-pictures-and-trends/

sky’s the Limit

4 Sep

if ADELE set fire to the rain, then the question is “Who set FIRE TO THE SKY???”


saying YES to NO ~ a sequel

2 Sep

“I really wish I was less of a thinking man and more of a fool not afraid of rejection.”
– Billy Joel

I am not a negative person but many a times saying NO can be theee most positive thing. I have learned it from past experiences ~ a lesson learned the hard way. If you have had difficulties saying NO, you’re not alone. BUT for people used to saying “NO” easily, this post may not “go down” that easily.

As far as I am concerned, I still have difficulties saying “NO” partly because I’m worried how the recipient may feel. Rejection is a scary thing, not only to receive but to give as well.

trying to…

Let us first understand WHEN to say NO:

Obviously when you don’t want to say YES [sick!! I know]

Sometimes we say “Yes” despite wanting to say “NO” because we think we can protect the one we love by saying “Yes” we are protecting our loved one from feeling hurt or offended. It’s a good thing to say “Yes” to Mom’s cookies when you’re full and it’s perfectly all right to nibble on them until you can thank her for the spare tire around your belly area, in the years to come. This is more like “Honesty is NOT ALWAYS the best policy”.

BUT when the person who’s going to get hurt is YOU, that’s when it’s time to say “NO”.

Now HOW to say NO:

Once you learn when it’s time to say NO, you must know how to say it. I’ve always known when to say NO, it’s easy to identify when to say NO but it’s difficult to pin down on HOW to say it. Because let’s face it, you may earn a “selfish” label or a “self-centred” label once you start using NO. The best way is to make excuse. Let’s try it.


Pretty good advice, I am working on Points 2, 4, 5 and 7.

If you aren’t strong enough [read: if you are as weak as the blogger here], you can practice putting up a blank expression or a frown to say NO. Also, you can pretend not to hear and walk away before the speaker repeats himself/ herself. Just get up and get away from the environment that’s forcing you to say NO, it obviously isn’t a good environment to linger around.

WHAT to do after saying NO:

If your heart thumps like mine after I say NO, well.. personally I think it’s pathetic. But heart’s a heart’s a heart ~ one’s gotta be nice to one’s heart. So let it thump and come back to its normal beat. Once you say NO, don’t regret it. Your NO may not always be right but we all learn through trials and errors. I’ve lost few so-called pals over the years because they couldn’t see me beyond my NO. I wonder if it’s a big loss, though.

Also note that when you say no, it might attract some “labels”. Don’t worry about them. As long as you’re comfortable with your NO, there’s no need to worry about whatever names it may bring you. If people give you names for your NO, ask yourself “Is it worth having them around?” As simple as that.

…errr well… I guess that’s how you can find the “balance”…

saying YES to NO

1 Sep

Children learn the word “NO” before they learn its counter-word “Yes” obviously because No is easier to utter [technically]. I couldn’t have been an exception so I too must have started my language development with a “No”. Little would I have known how completely things were about to change.

I, especially, remember a girl [who I thought was a friend, then] who lived off me. It all began while we were walking to our school one day. I was carrying this new denim bag [which was really cool, then] and she had this proper school-bag school bag. She complimented me on my bag and I did the same. Then she suggested we change our school bags. After that, if I had anything that looked better than hers, we swapped. Many a times when she got compliments for my things, I almost always wished she would acknowledge that they were mine. Who was I fooling?

“Give me your pen…”

ME: …but it’s a gift from my dad…

“How can you say NO to your friend?”

ME: [oh no, I’ve offended her] Sorry, here. Take it. Keep it. I’ll tell my parents I’ve lost it.

Even as I typed the conversation above, a flood of emotions overwhelmed me. Why was I like that? What made me hate myself so much? How did I turn up so pathetic? Who is (was) responsible for the way I behaved then? Where did the child [who learned to say NO first] disappear? When did saying “no” become a vice?

My attempt at finding the answers:

  1. No is a negative word and thus should not be uttered unless it’s for a bad thing. For instance; say NO to drugs. Never do they say “Say NO to giving your pen to a friend.”
  2. I wanted to fit in so badly that I was scared if I said NO, people will stop liking me. Besides, I wanted the others to say nice things about me.
  3. I weighed my NO to the recipient of my NO. Isn’t having a friend always better than having a nice pair of shoes?
  4. I thought offending others was a bigger crime than hurting oneself. “I” didn’t matter.
  5. My parents always taught me to be selfless.

Not everything is permanent in life and so I grew up [lesser on the length and more on the width] wondering what it’ll be like to say NO someday. And one day, just like that, began my journey into know-no-land, maybe because I knew the grass would be greener on the other side.

 “Get me some water, please”.

ME: No… Please get it yourself.

“…why can’t you get it for me? I’ve asked you so nicely…”

ME: Because I am learning to say NO when I mean NO and you have to take my NO for an answer.

All voices: What a Bee Eye Tea see etch :O

ME sulking inside, long face outside. Heart thumping inside, sweating outside.

I really thought I’d faint there and then, but I didn’t. At the end of my first NO, I lost a [so-called] friend but not before she lectured me on how horribly awful it was to say NO to a thirsty friend. Maybe she wasn’t a friend after all and by losing her I gained a little confidence. I had, after all, uttered NO and I didn’t choke on my words, my eyes didn’t pop out of their socket, neither did I vomit blood and nor did I drop dead… I survived… a miracle!!!

I still hesitate to say a straight no-nonsense NO. As a result, sometime conversation as below ensues –>

“Do you have a cigarette?”

ME: Remember… I asked you if you had one last night.

“Yeah, I also REMEMBER I had offered you one.”

ME: That’s my point. If I had asked you for a cigarette LAST night, what makes you think I would miraculously have one THIS very MORNING?

“You could have just said NO”.

ME: oooops :$

Well, I have reached my know-no-land and not without still having difficulties navigating, at times. I can now say ‘NO’ [effortlessly sometimes] BUT I’ve earned myself a title “Selfish” – say whaaaaaaaa?

…to be continued [maybe]

the Longing

29 Aug

“…listen to me”

I can’t speak

“…but you promised”

I swallow the words.

I wish I had spoken then

Reminded you of the vow taken


I held my breath

choked back my words,

strangled and suffocated.

I suffered,

the hurt and the pain.

I wanted out

But I stayed in,

Longing for the exit

I fizzled out, I perished.

[I actually wrote this for Rant Poetry Competition but……]

Weekly Writing Challenge: The Sound of Blogging

29 Aug

I loved walking around my neighbourhood, as a kid, for kicks of course. Very often, I used to stop by a house and stare at it for a long time imagining every little activity happening inside. I used to imagine the colour of the walls, the smell of the kitchen and the sound of their lives. Every house housed a unique story, courtesy my imagination.

Walks to remember

I knew all the houses by heart and by story. And so, on one of my ramblings, I stopped by a house as I heard a beautiful sort of tinkling sound just as I was passing by. I began noticing that every time I reached that particular bend I would hear the same sound – a beautiful sound.  From then on, I made a point to stop at that bend for a few moments to enjoy the sound.

I never dared tell anyone about this little adventure of  mine, for fear that someone might accuse me of eavesdropping. But then slowly, the cynic in me began doubting this little sound – that emanated out of nowhere just as I would pass the bend. So one day, I decided to unveil this mystery. I stood there (challenging my little self) to uncover the truth.

~ Where was this sound coming from?

~ Why does it come when I’m passing by?

~ Was anyone making a fool out of me?

No amount of preparation would have prepared me for this moment of truth…

Yes, it was the wind-chime: not too visible for a passer-by but subtly audible for ones who had the ears for it. [The amount of intense staring I indulged to uncover this mystery sound could have easily got me into trouble as a trespasser had I not been 8 years old].

Even to this day when I hear the *chimes*, my heart skips a beat as I am transported back in time.

Even to this day, I fight the urge to own a wind-chime. I don’t have one and I’ll never have one. This is a sacred sound, a sound of childhood serendipity and I want it to be thus for all eternity.


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