One Mind, Many Dreams.

Warning : Reading this may upset people I know personally and who may have said things that I quote so please be kind and use discretion. I love you all, anyway.

I know people, like my best-friend from school, P who did his engineering while I did Architecture – he got a job like everyone else while I still did Architecture because its a longer course (and is still not over – for those who think I’m chilling in Chennai). He just knows he wants to work for the forces. He left his corporate job and is preparing for SSB. I recently (read, July) had the opportunity to act in a Short Play (Short + Sweet, Chennai, 2016 ) and this was, by chance – because I went against my usual habit of ignoring messages and actually replied to a friend who was the director of the play.  Okay, coming to the point, I got a chance to meet other actors, writers and directors. To us, the lay-folk who only enjoy cinema and read gossip blurbs or the Times of India – actors just happen to be and earn big bucks and splurge it on controversies that we can use as ice-breakers at work. But the truth is, getting a job as an actor for a somebody is really tough in a country where every third person wants to be one (Okay, you knew this). I think you can become a politician, more easily, if you’re erudite and tactical enough. SO – I met all these people who just KNOW that they want to be an actor – regardless of where they are right now – they’ve left jobs, homes and families for this. Every text, every expression, every meeting – they only talk about their passion and I’m left aghast. Like, ‘sapne mein aaya kya tere?” (did it occur to you in a dream?). It probably did.

Such crystal dreams don’t occur to me. I’m usually in morbid situations in dreams- running around with people I may/may not know in strange set-ups that may/may not exist.

Every month – I have a new ambition. I get influenced by movies, books, people, magazine articles and of course, social media. Its not easy. They say – trust in the magic of beginnings. I do – but then it fizzles out. And something new takes it place. Its not easy – when you’re pursuing a degree; want independence; super-fast WiFi; good food; social life; a job which feels like a holiday; security – it just doesn’t all materialize in one night on a platter – much like how we’d like it to. Some people just get stuck in the grind of everyday mundane jobs to support themselves and a family. Or run behind their passion – a train they may/may not catch. Or live in the delusion: ‘Aayega – Don aayega”.

Don gaya tel lene.

No parent/well-wisher/aunty/uncle-ji who owns a shop/dhobi-wallah/already-established-friend/Data-scientist-cousin-in-the-US  likes it when you tell them you want to become a Screen-writer or Casting Director – Art Manager – Art Director – Critic – Media Producer – Shift to another city – Get a flat- Buy a dog- etc:-

“Does it even pay well? What – I’ve never heard of it. Its just tricks – to scam your generation into doing odd-jobs no one else wants to do. Are you crazy? Interns are unpaid labor – even the dhobiwallah knows that. Pune? Tomorrow you’ll go to New York also. Pehle na you lose weight and leave that Facebook wagera. Some Hunky Dory became a screenwriter – doesn’t mean ki you’ll become one, too. Please keep your room clean, first. And what about the five years you spent cutting cardboard to become an Architect (or whatever you studied)? Who’ll pay for rent? Accha, leave all this blogging about movies which some other person made and share serious views on your blog. Get married before 25 – movie mein dekha na – that actor also said that only. Kya? How many degrees do you want? PINK dekha PINK? Yahi hota hai  outside world mein – go, go get your flat ab. Accha jao – sab karlo – Director bhi ban jao. Artist bhi ban jao. Go ask your Michel Gondry’s mother if he spoke to her in this tone, ever. Remember Ankita? She’s working in that advertising company – she’s getting married in November. You’re still sending in CV’s to these funny companies. What do you want to do with the rest of your existence? Ja, main nai poochti.


You got my point. And its all in our best interest. No parent wants their kid lying broke in some dingy corner smoking cheap cigarettes regretting why they didn’t take up that Accenture wala job. Neither do they want you as an added attachment to the house (unless of course you’re a boy, in our patriarchal country). And I agree with them. This is not a rant as much as it looks like one.

Its a dilemma that I realized, more recently, a lot of us are facing but because we want to maintain the status-quo of being happy – we don’t share it. We just write poetry because its a hobby. We don’t tell people that it gives us more pleasure doing than data-entry because poetry doesn’t pay – unless of course you write something that goes viral on scoopwhoop. No one writes Facebook statuses about how they fought with someone who thinks their dreams are worth nothing. No one tells you how much it hurts to lose a job because you could’t focus on your work. No one tells you how bloody scared they are about life, itself. We blame our social status, lack of money, parental pressure, etc – and continue doing what we do best – nothing.

But all that is when you have some tinkering clue about what you really want to be. Thomas Zacharias (okay, I not-secretly have a crush on him and he Instagrams as @cheftzac) knew he wanted to be a Chef. Though it looks like he’s always smiling as he grills salmons and posts pictures about inspiring local cuisine – it took him a hell load of effort to become the Executive Chef of the Bombay Canteen (believe it or not, one of the many reasons for me to want to work in Pune is so that I can go to Mumbai to see this place designed by a firm called The Busride – where I will work, one day.). A snippet of that effort (posted with permission aka DM that he may/may not read, on Instagram) :

On the contrary, another person I got introduced to, thanks to all the weird research I do – is Shanoo Sharma (@shanoozeing on twitter) who is the Casting Head at YRF Films. And she didn’t just land up this job in one year or even two. She has the experience of working as a hair-stylist, bartender, waitress, singer – and pretty much everything she wanted to try. She has no degree to her name and at one (or many) point was tagged by well-wishers as someone who could not stay in one job for more than a year. And look where all that has lead her to. She now gives actors their breaks. She calls her job a holiday and has the authority to work from where she wants, when she wants. She does a job she’s obsessed with and this didn’t occur to her in a dream. She is India’s top Casting Director. Ranveer Singh, Parneeti Chopra, Arjun Kapoor, Alia Bhatt – and many more happened because she thought they could happen. And her story which I read is here .

Closer home, in Chennai, someone I actually know did something out of his dreams. Shyam Renganathan just gave his first TEDx talk in VIT, Vellore – and why? Because he didn’t just sit around moping (okay maybe he may have done that at one point) – when he believed that he could be funny. He didn’t want that engineering life – he stood against joining a B.E course and went ahead to do what he loves doing – he’s now a Standup Comic, RJ, Web Series (Black Sheep)  Actor and I don’t know what more he will do. It was definitely not easy – or fun, when he decided to take a step back and change course. But he made it. Its not an easy world for dreamers but then again, people make it.

And these are just some examples that I’ve stumbled upon. Okay, let’s take Sushant Singh Rajput – for those who are living under a rock / From another country  – he’s a Bollywood actor who recently acted as M.S Dhoni in his biopic. Besides that, he has starred as Byomkesh Bakshi and as a lead character in Kai Po Che, the movie based on Chetan Bhagat’s Three Mistakes of My Life. He didn’t become an actor bas aise hi kyunki sapna aaya. He was first an AIEEE Topper with AIR 7 – then a student in DTU – a dancer in Shiamak Davar’s Dance troupe – a theatre artist with Ekjute – an actor in Hindi Serials – and finally, an actor. This journey was a long and strenuous one. I haven’t interviewed him but I sure as hell know that he didn’t know he’ll be acting as M.S Dhoni in the year 2016 – when he was giving his AIEEE. Not everyone knows for sure. And you know what, its okay.

You can thank me later.

I say this to myself whenever I get a new idea – that’s daunting – that makes me look jittery and unsure – which I agree I am. But what’s wrong in that? I’m afraid that I don’t know. But at least, I accept that I don’t know and I’m trying to know. I’m giving my everything – I’m working hard and looking at prospects- I’m applying to places which resonate my beliefs, somewhat. I’m looking at originality in a field dominated by trends and popularity.

But that doesn’t stop me at marveling what Michel Gondry does with a few colours, a paper and a video camera. It doesn’t stop me from reading scripts written by Woody Allen and Rebecca Miller. It doesn’t stop me from thinking what Greta Gerwig thought before signing up for Frances Ha. It doesn’t stop me from watching Wes Anderson movies back-to-back noting down things I like – joining FTII forums and discussing Bollywood – watching Anurag Kashyap’s speeches on Film-making – noting down email addresses of Production houses I would like to intern with – sending my CV to Art Management firms just to see if I fit the bill. I’m trying. I don’t know if its right – I don’t know if job security is the secret to success. I don’t know if I’ll ever end up in Mumbai writing films like Juhi Chaturvedi and Gauri Shinde. I also remember promising my best friend, Sarkar, that we’d write scripts for Korean Drama together, when we were in college. Maybe we should have done that.

Its all a bit unsettling when you see your friends going to pursue their Masters in the US, UK and Singapore – or when they post “FMS / IIM – Life be like” pictures on instagram – and you’re still here sitting before a screen.


Being afraid is normal and so is stalking celebrities on Instagram. Reading Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me (by Mindy Kaling) instead of Lean-In or Seven Habits of Highly Effective People (or whatever its called) – is absolutely OKAY. Crushing on celebrity chefs who don’t even know you exist is OKAY. Reading never-ending tumblr posts on inspiration is OKAY – as long as you don’t lose yourself in another person’s world and come back to your own to build yourself up. You’re not alone. You never will be. Talk to people and get to know things instead of being shy and apprehensive. Throw yourself at opportunities and learn things that can’t be learnt on lifehack or buzzfeed. Get out of your shell and give yourself a chance to feel vulnerable.

It doesn’t matter where we are as long as we know we want to try harder and make something out of this opportunity we call life.



Piya Milan Chowk

‘Bhai, PMC mein milna theeke na?’ translates into Brother, meet me at the junction where lovers meet.

And where is this PMC? Well its at the center of my college. And its like the cerebrum of all activity. Its a roundabout before the Admin block which is where all the main college-streets lead to (in some way or the other). And that’s where friends were made, watchmen slept, meetings were held, people were eyed, Girls’ Hostel Buses were parked etcetera.

We were about five thousand students belonging to more than a dozen departments. And PMC was where we’d gather. There were other places – the BBC (Basketball court), the LTC (Lawn tennis court which was actually a chewed-out clay court), Coffee-shop (which is just a tiny stall which sold instant-coffee and junk food to meet varying collegiate needs), Back-Gate (which qualifies to be an adda) and the canteen (where the ground-floor was dedicated to those who actually ate and the first-floor mostly had people who had nowhere else to go and didn’t want to run into the faculty). Oh we did have a library but it wasn’t such a common meeting place unless and until you planned to study (or sleep) in the Annex.

I wonder why I’m writing about it today. Is it because half of the people I met there (definitely not as piyas) have drifted to faraway continents or are in the process to do so? Is it because I will never forget the day my Dad and I walked into the College (well, the never-ending infinity road starting from the main-gate directly leads you to …no reward for guessing…the PMC) and I had finally realised that my twelve years of education led me to this place. Ah, that kid then. Or maybe the pictures clicked there on various ethnic days will never be clicked again (or found – I’m sure I’ve lost most of them in miscellaneous drives), the mosquito-filled evenings we’ve spent waiting for the second bus to pick us up or the fountain that worked only once in a blue moon with its colorful lights. I’m sure most people graduated even without seeing it in all its glory due to its rare usage. Or perhaps I yearn to walk under the ever-spreading canopy of the Umbrella Thorn Trees (at least that’s what I called them and fooled my friends for four long years).

I’ll never meet Aryan in his baggy clothes waiting to meet us whenever he dropped by college. I’ll never see the cute-guys (like one out of five) play basket-ball in the court across the road. I’ll never walk by the juniors waiting for the bus with my troupe of cackling monkey-friends who were probably laughing at some seriously retard joke I must have cracked. I’ll never see Komi fly his balsa wood planes with his team there. I’ll never get to sit there with my friends as we’d see daylight turn to dusk as we’d wait for something else. I’ll never ask the auto-wallah to take a left from PMC to reach my departments, I’ll never run by it with arms-full of sheets with my classmates and I’ll probably never stand in a sari with my two best friends, Rhea and Mouli, clicking our last picture together before our final speeches on behalf of our departments. Ah PMC did hold a lot of meaning in its own way. I will never know why it was named so but I think I’ll never forget the happiness it brought on my face when my friends and I would decide to meet up there to hatch some new craziness after college.

Arrividerci SIT and its survivors.





The other day I was banging my head against the wall wondering what my dream really is? Is there like, one major dream and then sub-dreams or what?
And I read this from an old blog post, today.

I think I want to intern at various design places…no matter what they design, do theatre, video-log, do a TLC show where I show people places they need to get going to. Visit all the places we stayed in when I was a kid.

Maybe this is a clue. Maybe I should believe in the Universe or listen to the people who love me and step-up my professional game.
Well let’s see. Let’s get done with Thesis, first.



Solitary walks – right before dusk settles in the sky. You’ve told nobody where you’re going and neither did anyone ask you a thing when they saw you leave with your shoes on. Probably going to run some errands or buy groceries, they must have assumed. But no, you were on a mission. And it was to accomplish nothing. 

Too many time in a day I catch myself anxious about a future which is nothing but an illusion – a game the mind plays with images floating between dreams and logical projections based upon current realities. Will you have enough money? Will you be able to make enough time for your loved ones while you run behind buses and bosses, alike? Will someone serve you or breakfast or will it forever be coffee-on-the-go? Will you ever have that mounted bookshelf with your collections stacked neatly the way you always dream of it? Will you ever have enough time to appreciate the rain and sing about it on a night that is far from beautiful? Will you have kids you’ll take out for ice-cream on your scooter? Will your partner enjoy the same kind of jazz or will he or she even know the difference? Will you ever feel accomplished or will you accept any sort of regret?

So many questions and one little mind. How is one ever to answer all these queries on one single day. You barely have time to do laundry these days so you cannot worry about ice-creams and kids. Valuable moments are lost while we stitch for the future. But then again you can’t pretend to not care, either. You need some amount of planning – some idea as to what you’ll be doing? Finding a balance is tough but it must be done. And in your way, in your own time. But done,it must be.

But what has to be done now?

Work, yes. You need to till the soil.

But when it gets too monotonous?

Well, that’s when I pitch the wise words of an Architect who we had the good fortune of learning from – Sanjeev Mokashi. He always had words- of wisdom, irony and technique. He had hacks for everything from plotting in AutoCAD to beating procrastination – n infectious disease every student gets affected by at some point or the other. ‘Do design – spend enough time with it – stay immersed. But when you’re bored – take a book and read it or so something that gives you joy. You don’t have to just keep working all the time. But you must remember to get back to it once you’ve been sufficiently entertained’

And that’s what I think I’ll do, too. The coming months have endless hours of work written all over them – with the thesis reaching its completion; reviews being announced; deadlines to apply for internships coming close. 

It is so easy for me to get distracted by instagram posts by Dayanita Singh in Champa Gali swaying to Delhi Sultanate’s reggae tunes or by the Delhiwallah ( Mayank Austen Soofi) who walks around capturing moments otherwise missed. Or just going through pictures from the more colorful lives of celebrities and wonder what they do differently to live life this large. Or I’ll be longing to go back to a point in life where I was happier than I am in my current reality – whatever it is.

So I need to commit to my own diligence and treat myself to a few pages of A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara (or Jeet Thayil and Gabriel Garcia Marquez who are also sharing the space) when I’m tired of the same thing.

We have to find our own ways to get things done because only then will the wheel move forward. Despite my ardent love for doing absolutely nothing and just lying down dreaming – or eating grapes when its too hot for anything else – I need to find a way to channelize my efforts to accomplish tasks.

And when all this is over – I shall roam the streets of my choice, live the life I yearn for and make more memories as I dream of more distant realities. Forevermore.

(The next post is a tribute to Zaha Hadid – the architect who held onto her whims)


This is the part of my life where I start understanding who I am. Who I want to become .But there is no saying who I’ll become.


Its not easy to figure it out in a day, months or now that I come to think of it, years, maybe. Every week I discover something new about myself; the people around me, the potential I have and how it affects the others. Every action reverberates. It brings something new to our life. Like, just last week – though short – I’ve lived through a journey on a brook (were I a little paper boat this sentence would have made much more sense than it does, right now). If you know me then you’d probably have heard the word Thesis at least ten times a day on an average basis. The poor parents, close friends, roommate and partner go through much worse. All they hear about is : Thesis. So much so that my Dad doesn’t discuss anything else, he is attuned to my nature- keeping track of my progress and encouraging me in whatever way he can including the occasional hearing to remind me a theater play or a movie should not be my focus and that I should start focusing on also getting an internship. Parents are farsighted. That’s probably why I’m in a college and getting to write this post, right now. The point being – when you start becoming more vulnerable (and this is purely by choice – a shade of mindfulness, maybe?) to the things happening around you and there is no saying whether its good or bad – you realize how real things can actually get. Your interaction with people is not based on the that moment or even the moment before. Our entire life affects every action we take. Over the years the way you think, react to things, accept criticism or pain, respond to threat, appreciate another or learn something – have all evolved. You’re not the same person you were two years ago (in my case, a month ago). When you look back at the things you said last weekend after the jury went bad and you were all red-faced and puffy-eyed – would make you laugh at our childishness (nudge, nudge, that’s me).

So give it time. Let things sink in, be processed until you’re sure about how you feel before expressing it outside. You’ll be surprised how a little thinking before speaking can help in the long run. After my rather unexpectedly weird jury I took a time off the maddening heat of the thesis. I spent time with friends, read good things and waited for the answers to come to me. And come they did : in a newspaper article, that too, believe it or not and by next week it may actually turn into something life-changing. Open to these new experiences. Anyway, lots of following up to do and a test tomorrow. I’m going to try writing more here so that I can get to a clearer thought-process.

Also I’d like to thank you all for the support : all your comments and remarks mean a lot. Keep them coming. Which blogger doesn’t love comments? So just feel free to share things with me- always receptive. Hope you had a great weekend. Waiting to actually hear from you and learn something so yes, write to me.


Charles Correa – An Elusive Image

          “The complex and ambiguous relationship between man and nature is central to Indian Architecture.”

Charles Correa (1930 – 2015)

Bold openings introducing you into the mind of a Master whose simplistic approach to finding contextual answers for urban issues, challenges our very own understanding of spaces. The way one Hall leads you to a stepped-central courtyard impacts the way you perceive things – his work moves you; pushes you and at the same time defines the program with a form, flawlessly. Sensitivity gives character to an Architect’s work. Capturing this feeling in built form is one the many talents Correa possessed.

Intangibility – the entire idea of it consumes the mind as it finds a way to trap it within the physical realm so it can be revealed to another. This trapping is an art-form wielded by the Master to bring life into his buildings. One such element is Light.

Light in its myriad of playful forms – the harbinger of sight- is one the most intangible elements in Architecture. If scanty it blinds us and on the other extreme, it glares. To keep it from scorching us in its entirety- channelling its beauty into a spatial form- activating its ability to make someone feel is a ruse that Correa applies in many of his creations.

Close your eyes, expecting nothing, stand underneath the pergola and let time pass you by. As the sun makes its journey across the cone, the way light falls upon you in a pattern heating a portion of your skin while the next is a shaded strip, brings your senses alive. The alternative bands of sensation make you see even though you have closed your eyes to light. That is the magic of arresting the intangible.

To evoke emotions similar to the ones ebbing within you is a talent of its own. This sets apart the Actor, the Artist, the Performer and the Architect – the Director of space- from a common observer. Beams of sunlight that filter through the gaps between the thatches and the morning sunlight entering the kitchen window inciting the tendrils of smoke rising from the boiling-milk into a smooth waltz, have a natural splendour of their own. Sun light has always been a focus in traditional architecture -be it purifying water tanks in Agraharas; bringing life to membranes by turning them translucent or as a means to portray symbolism. Charles Correa brought dynamism in the Static by bringing light into play- in all of the element’s forms translating traditional motives into contemporary milieu.

Exposure- the very word launches in your mind images of doors opening as two districts conjoin via the Threshold – the element of transition. Exposure creates form, creates movement just like your pupil dilates as you recede away from light and contracts as you bask in it.

Correa’s spaces are characterized by the experience they provide you as he varies the level f exposure from open-to-sky spaces to shaded porches and pergola-covered terraces. The shadier, more intimate corners ease you as you feel protected by the scale of them- the walls backing you up. A mezzanine platform that you’re perched upon- turns into a realm of your own as you personalize it because of its exclusivity in spatial terms. But as soon as you walk into vast, open courts- where the lightest breeze can rouse a tingle in your spine- the space affects you according to your persona. You’re either intimidated by its agoraphobic scale or stimulated so that your mind breaks through the shell and a barrage of thoughts rush past you- consume you­. Or you recede into a pocket of your own- customizing a haunt of your own to reflect deeply.

When you look around the Jawahar Kala Kendra in Jaipur, a playful Lord Krishna playing his  basuri– painted in hues of black and white- on a boldly coloured wall is a sight you see after climbing a railing-less staircase edged to a wall. The vitality in such art- the Vastu Purusha stretching over the concave curvature of a dome or the stripes adorning the British Council building at various levels and staggered faces of the facade- have a language of their own. They speak to every viewer in a tone suited to their liking, under the broad umbrella of Correa’s objective of their creation.

Art in Architecture is a phrase that comes into play not only in two dimensional manifestations but are also ingrained multi-dimensionally like the way the spiral staircase is articulated  in the Astronomy and Astrophysics Centre in Pune. Materials bring unity while the colours he chooses mirror the intended vibrancy of the spaces. Colours activate a stimulus in our system that we respond in insentience. Our mind has pre-associated generic colours attached to nostalgia. And when they show up, our environment transforms within our mind frame.

Correa provides spaces that mean different things to different people through his artistry. And that is how he complements the multi-faceted yet unique nature of the humankind.

Visual connections transcend physical barriers. You can lunge forward into a space just by looking at it. Your conscience can be hauled from where you stand to where you want to be if you can simply see it.Correa’s Levels do that to their users. Being present but at the same time, detached from the activity around you just because you’re at a different pedestal is a bequest Correa offers to you.

The ethereal elements that he believed connect humans to their surroundings as life progresses – the Light, the Exposure, Colours, Visual Play and the plethora of emotions that they stir up in us evolving our capacity to experience spaces as they are subtly intended to- are elements that Correa’s Architecture is conducive to.

His will to defy norms where he believed they needed tweaking; inspire change, to respond to multi-layered contexts both climatologically and culturally, keeping in mind the larger scope of things led him into being the phenomenon that he will forever be remembered as. He is the personality Our Architectural Era will be remembered by.

The gems he has left with us will be sewed in the tapestry we, as his successors, create and pass on as our collective legacy.


(Article for The Indian Arch Magazine 2016 by NASA, India)


Love In The Times of Professional Degrees

Love in the times of Cholera Professional Degrees. Yes, you read it right. If work from multiple assignments; hobby projects and social commitments aren’t killing you already you have the whole hormone-drive and status-quo to think about. Well, I belong to the class which doesn’t really care about the latter (or do we, subconsciously? ) 

You crash last minute to a party- meet someone by absolute chance. Things go pretty okay. And you begin talking until you have nicknames; share embarrassing stories; discuss food-politics-food again; have tiffs- basically, the point where you actually start getting used to talking to them and borderline like them.

Then one fine day, you’re scrolling down silly pictures of theirs and suddenly they’re busy too often. Boom. They’re preparing for GRE. Or TOEFL. Or something that tells you that they’re eventually going away. Just like that guy you met at the Blogger’s Meet; your best friend you couldn’t say goodbye to before he left for Germany and all the others who now post pictures standing before monuments they can’t spell with their other Asian and French buddies; your cousin who was 9-pointer and so many others. While you sit here and plan what to do for your Thesis, they’re booking plane tickets to London. Just perfect. What the hell is a person still completing their Bachelors got to do? Date younger people? Or the ones who are done with all this emigration and back? Perhaps. Uh, na.

So anyway, that’s the story of us kids trying to make our name but falling in love without a thought- getting the heart to flutter- tire its wings-put it back to sleep and get back to the grind – the regime involving your entire week and endeavor. What is love supposed to do but take the back seat? Screw it. eh?

Just random thoughts after a conversation please don’t try reading between the lines, its just blank sleeplessness. Have a nice week. Arrividerci.

Sunday Serve

The Classmates. L-R: Myself, Jois, Hrishi and Priyo

This officially marks that its been two weeks since Joining Date. The rooms are set, more or less and we’re getting used to the week’s grind of Design, Urban Planning, Landscape and Interior design plus the electives. Some major work this semester because we are in the final semesters of Collegiate education. Next year is all practical-real-time work . There are other things like laundry and maintenance that also need your attention unless you like living like Shrek, that is. Entertainment comes in diluted forms of watching movies (Malayalam being my Choice of The Month) or just talking to friends sitting on stairs. Whatsapp consumes far too much time than I can spare. Hostel lunch during the weekends suck but the rare weekday lunch of ladies fingers and potatoes and the Friday idli-vada-sambhar comfort us enough to let the issue go. 

Just last Sunday we were all celebrating my classmate’s birthday in CCD and then we drove up to DD Hills which was a blissful experience. We sat there on huge boulders until the sun set, the clouds rolled by drizzling on us and the stars came up. We had tea in a stall while driving down; dinner at a famous restaurant in Khyatsandra before getting dropped at the Hostel almost at Curfew hour. I can’t believe its been a week, since that.

I simply don’t understand how Sunday rushed by. I remember waking up at around 5AM, thanks to mosquitoes (someone left the door open the previous evening) and replying to some message. I thought I’ll just sleep a little bit more and suddenly its 8:41AM and we rush for breakfast.

I spoke to The Parents and read a few blog posts by friends listening to Teena Marie…and suddenly my classmate enters and she’s like, ‘Let’s go for lunch.’ Its 12:27. Though yes, I got to read some great blogs. Today I focused on Ex-army and Fauji wives’ tales : Aditi Mathur and Vikram Karve Sir. And of course, Farooq-Sreesha-Shyvish and my other Indiblogger mates’ blogs. I honestly wish I read more. Arundhati Roy is staring at me from my table, ‘You use my cover as background for new ear-rings for Instagram but you can’t read a dozen pages a day from me!’

The iPod is charged so say hello to songs from the yester-years of my life. I can’t get over The Science of Sleep’s haunting background score.

I mean, are you KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW? We get one day to recoop and even that goes by so quick. I’m already worried about pending assignments and submissions. Saavu addikeraanga pa! I just pat myself for being alive. Oh and did I tell you, I still have a bit of laundry left and there’s oil in my hair that needs washing off? Oh and we have some NASA work to tend to, too. Oh and did I tell you I was writing poetry until 2AM. What is up with me?

Hoping we get things done on time. I’ve still not watched Irrfan Khan’s AIB video that’s making the rounds.

ANYWAY. Hope you had a great week. And will have a nice one, too. Send some love. I could really do with oodles of it.

Architect Sangeet Sharma in his book ‘Architecture, Life and Me’ writes: “Buildings must have a silent narrator. They must hold your hand and take you along the journey while narrating all those violent flushes of the heart that made the architecture of that building come alive. I do not build to exemplify the philosophy of my life and I am not on the path to prove myself; I am here to please myself. I leave a silent narrator on my buildings so that he does the talking, and works as a mute guide. While I, the architect, will slowly be shunted into oblivion… until the user of the space is compelled to inquire about its architect, the endeavour is incomplete.”

Beware. A big fat post is soon to drop by.


Amidst the euphoria of finishing three books (reading, hehe) in a row; having eaten oats regularly (regularity is my Waterloo) ; having climbed the Srivari Mettu (Tirumala-Tirupati) Climb (2500 steps); Pondicherry-short-trip; becoming a pasta expert; fixed my own scooty (Dad did, actually. I prayed) etc etc my head is brimming with thoughts I can’t seem to put a finger on.

I catch one fish (of thought) and the other distracts me allowing its mate to escape. My friend (also our new tenant Tanya) suggests chakra healing et all. Being a Russian (Serbia) she knows more about Mata Kundalini and meditation than any of us (at home) do.
My Mom would like me to relax but 20 is NOT an age to relax. I’m supposed to have figured it out by now. I should be working towards my supreme goal, tirelessly. But here I am writing a blog post.

In other news, I reset my computer this losing allllll my Chrome bookmarks (I want to cry) ; my favourites -this-that, my software’s (the handy VLC etc) and now I’m stuck with some WiFi adapter issue etc. Nor is my moto-G 2 working too awesome. These gadgets handicap us, I SWEAR.

But the escapist that I am, I found peace in books. Even though I proudly quote Einstein to others, I need to heed his advice myself.

To live a Happy Life,
Tie your life to goals not objects or people.

Seee? Cool , yes?

Only I wish it were that easy. Also got some amazing Dawn French books and THE ENTIRE PHILLIP PULLMAN His Dark Materials trilogy.

That makes me happy. What else?
I’ve still not met anyone in Chennai because I’m a wonderfully, preoccupied, lazy person. I’ve watched a lot of Johnny Depp though.

I ate pancakes for the first time in my life, last week at a friend’s place in Pondicherry.

And, I think I’ll go the beach this weekend. Oops, TGIF.

Hardly a month left for college to reopen. Perfect time to start moving about it.

Hoping SOMEBODY/SOMETHING has a nice, short answer to all my confusions.

And I hope you’re having a jolly-good summer!

Love always,