I Remember My Dream! aka TOW Too Many Parenthesis!

Oh my god! This has literally never happened before - I actually remember a dream I had last night with fair clarity.

It was midnight and I was outside the house I grew up in.

Wow! "...the house I grew up in" Who would've thought this is something I'd ever get to say. It's funny how things turn out; I actually have a house I grew up in. How old am I? 80?

I was walking in search of fairly lights. That's right! For some reason, I was walking on an empty road in Delhi, outside the house I grew up in, to buy lights.

Fairy lights are awesome. We need fairly lights.

I crossed the spot I spent years of my adolescence at.

Looking back, that spot is 'the spot' in my growing up chapters. Such monumental discussions, controversies, gossips and moments have happened in that spot that I'm actually smiling as I type this. Like, the time I kissed him on his cheek and it became the fodder for the aunties for weeks after or the time my mum caught me chilling with my friends there when I was supposed to be at the gym. Good times... 

There was no one on the streets; no one important, anyway. I don't know if I was home for a break or for good,

I hope it was a break. I don't think I can do Delhi anymore.

but I called him. True to character, he promptly picked up. I asked him who he was with and he just refused to tell me. I told him I'm in grave need of some fairly lights and I must have them asap. He laughed at me saying how amazing it is for me to believe that I'd get that anywhere at this hour of the night. I told him very confidently that I know a place in Santa Cruz that sells them and I'm sure they're open at the moment. "Will you take me there?" "Ummm... chal aataa hoon! Meet me at the spot"

Catch: Santa Cruz is in Bombay.

The dream changed plot after that, so I'm not sure how this one concluded.

When I texted him about the dream today, this is what he replied:

Do I believe he dropped everything (including who he was with) to drive me from Delhi to Santa Cruz, Mumbai for fairy lights? 

I mean, I want to!

What a fun story that'd make!

I'm A Woman, Hear Me Roar!

I am starting to have a serious problem with how everyone talks about women. I am starting to have a serious problem with how women relate to women. Just, when did we get so bitchy? Perhaps, we always have been and the glaring realization of it all has only just struck me. Sorry for joining the party late, I guess. 

A few days ago, a fairly normal, educated lady told someone "why do you think all the crazy nutjob hot girls get the most amazing guys?" WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!?!

Why can't she get a "hotter" guy because she's not "attractive" (to you!)? What do you mean she "looks like a lesbian''? So you're telling me you like her "even though she's fat"? Why is it so hard for everyone to accept the possibility of a woman having made it without sleeping her way to the top? And even if she did, isn't the sexiest thing in bed consent? And about that... there are way too many rape jokes doing the rounds and the thing is, just who can we possibly blame for this? The media alone? I don't know. 

And then today, I happened to watch Avril Lavigne's Girlfriend video and cringed. Not so much at the video as at myself for watching this on loop growing up without stopping for a second to really see what the video is advocating. It makes me sick! How is it possible that only Shraddha Kapoor with her beautiful baal and pokyy-free hair piss me off when I've been a media consumer since birth? Is misogyny really that internalized? 

And dare I say any of these things to anyone without being called a 'feminazi'... yup, not a feminist, not a humanist, not an equalist; a femiNAZI. 

Do you even know what Nazism was and its endless repercussions on humanity? Ugh. 

On Most Days.

T and I have been friends for close to a decade now. Actually, cross that - We've known each other close to a decade now and that's really not the same thing. Especially, if you're like me and have known a lot of people over the years. 

When did we become friends exactly? I don't know. What made us identify each other as best friends exactly? I don't know. Why are we still friends exactly? I don't know. 

But I do know that she's feels like home (on most days, anyway). 

I realized it after living with her for about 6 months that we've actually been on a super long sleepover. Late night conversations, morning selfies, weight loss plans, pasta making, way too much alcohol and one too many cigarettes. Nothing has seemingly changed except now we can actually light up in our bedrooms, as opposed to sneakily smoking in her bathroom because her parents are in the house. 

It feels like we've grown up together. Just the other day when I was reading some stuff she wrote back in 2012, I realized just how much the both of us have changed. Is it commendable then that we still are what we are, despite the changes?

We don't like the same kind of people, food or activities. Hell, our go-to alcohol isn't the same anymore either! But, like she put it so beautifully - We may hate on each other all day and she may not approve of most of my life choices, but she tells me if anyone else does the same, she's going to break his face. And I believe her, mostly because she did kill a snake once. True story. 

Would I be friends with her if I met her now? I don't know. But I'm glad I am friends with her.

Because I do know that she feels like home (on most days, anyway).

Choosing Your Family.

Write! It really is that simple!

I guess I do this without even realizing. Who can I possibly blame for this? A family that was a little too "practical" for its own good?

I sometimes feel that I, subconsciously, go through life trying to find someone I can be a sister to or a dad who'd be ideal for me, You know how they say you choose your friends, but your family you're born into. I think I'm sometimes trying to choose the latter (not taking away anything from the brilliant one I have!); with great failure, might I add.

A man came into my life a few months ago in a work capacity. We got along well enough for two professionals and were comfortable enough with each other to share funny life anecdotes from the past. I don't know when it happened exactly though, but I feel sometime between a story about his grad days and our last shared cigarette, I started looking at him differently - as a father father figure.

Months later I woke to the rude shock that I may have, in some weird way, overstepped.