This is what’s happening…


The clouds have gathered up in the high-skies as though sitting in garden-chairs awaiting their tea and cookies. Well, they’re getting none. Not at least those which I baked wth my kiddo cousins. Because they have a ruddy-old habit of spraying over my clothes on the cothesline without a warning… don’t farmers send them pleas?… then why don’t they turn towards them?

Anyway, right now, all they want to do is laugh at my efforts on staying put in the house (my aunt’s, actually) and not drown in a pool of boredom. Cider Sky is playing Northern Lights on my iPod and I swear I can sing note to note with them, now that ‘ve played that song at least a dozen times, already. God bless the ‘repeat’ mode.

My Mum’s on her way to Tirupathi on-foot. Dad is busy, as he always is. Not that I  complain. Never. Yes, joke. My gran is enrossed with the sitcoms that fill the sometimes-dull bits of her life… conspiring, overly dressed actors planning dark ‘shadyantras’ on the pretty, always sweet, poor victim… always the protagonist. Not that I don’t peek in to check out the cute Devar Ji, every now and then. Melodramas, besides those in novels, have never been my forte of interest. I’d rather watch Nadal’s serves or Aditya Bal’s Skinny Dishes. Not that I try them in the privacy of my kitchen. Or maybe, I do, when I feel active enough to actually shop the veges and other spices that I NEVER find in my kitchen.

As of now, as in NOW, I’m also wondering about which college I’ll get alotted into. That and whether I’ll get a bookshelf in my Hostel. Not that my mum would allow me to carry my Lord Of The Rings, Narnia, Harry Potters, Twilights, Robin Sharmas, Louise Hays, Deepak Chopras,Cornelia Funkes,  Durjoy Duttas, James van Praghs , Sophie Kinsellas (don’t I just love metro-love-stories 😉 ?! )… to a hostel room I’d probably be sharing with three other girls, maybe my seniors with the perfect everything…

Now I  know what I’ll miss the most in the hostel… my Sister and my huge ‘Pandora’s Box’ filled with novels and other mysterious ,dark  and ‘material possessions of mine’. And my DELL XPS 8300 > my baby unicorn. .. which is my typewriter of sorts. And a portal to the world outside and a solace whenever shit hits the fan in my Universe. And well, that has happened quite sometimes.

But the clouds still remain as they are… and I await my cousins to come home so that we can do some stuff… besides paper planes, pizzas and paint… now, I’m a  good elder cousin. Of course what happened yesterday with the paint reaching my Gradma’s hair was totally ‘unexpected’ and the Living Room getting trampled by two kids and one young-adult was totally unforeseen. God knows what this night will bring forth. Perhaps a new story idea. Or  box of noodles from Panda Boy or tickets to Ice Age 4 or perhaps STARS, for the ordinary …

About Time I move my rear to the kitchen and lend a hand to my Aunt whose busy trying to figure out why we cant grind dosa batter in the blender, itself > after-effects of being an NRI for too long and then returning back to the Land of Ghee, Wet batters, deep frying and complicated-yet-amazing-everything  (INDIA)!

Arrividerci :)*

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