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It’s always awesome to make wishes and them make said wishes public – in the hope they come true 😀

  • books! of any sort 😀
  • clothes (always!)
  • headphones / handsfree for my phone
  • bookmark
  • snowglobe
  • experiences (tickets for trips / shows / classes )
  • anything swarovski 😉
  • anything from zenpencils
  • personalised photos 🙂
  • starbucks gifts
  • earmuffs
  • waterproof / touchscreen gloves
  • scrabble
  • music playlists
  • funky trinkets (anything from etsy also!)

Reading Bill Bryson always makes me happy. and ambitious. Like looking at zenpencils does. Anyway, in this case, while starting to read “I’m a stranger here myself” – just starting,
mind you – a collection of Bills’ experiences on returning to America – my first thought was: why don’t I start writing a weekly column of my experiences in America – which quickly
deteriorated to on a biweekly/monthly/somewhat regular basis – even in my resolution, as soon as I had a coupla moments of reflection.

Now, if you managed to read this massive run-on sentence & made sense of it, you’ll know exactly why I’d make a horrible columnist. My one sentence takes up an entire paragraph and probably requires much hatcheted editing. That, coupled with frequent procrastinating stints and recurring writer’s blocks would make this a crazy challenge. Which would make this daydream of chronicling my experiences over the next twenty years in various countries fairly fanciful. Yet we shall plod on.

And as my ever so helpful audience of few, you can cheer me on by giving me prompts – for the privilege of reading my convoluted thoughts in run-on prose!

Do you feel like citrus smells better in the summer and cinnamon smells better in the winter?

Does black suddenly seem like too dark when the sun is so bright?

Why do pastels and white linen feel cool?

And of course why would you feel like eating casseroles in summer, when all you crave is salad…

And why the heck did I not feel all this so acutely when I was in a constantly hot and humid place? Now I feel like I should have, not just a separate wardrobe for the winter and summer but that I should change everything around the house to reflect my mood… Ah the vagaries of learning to live in a place with actual seasonal change. I feel like I can even understand why a people go blonde in the summer and brunette in winter. A bit much, maybe?

So I guess I’m supposed to start reposting with a whine about lack of time and motivation and writer’s block or sheer laziness… Now that we have that out of the way, let the posts begin! Again, with a fervent hope that I’m regular or my version of it anyway at least this time around! <Excited – momentarily and hopefully for longer than my usual short-term attention span> I love writing – when I know I can 😀

P.S. I also tend to back-date posts based on where I think they “fit” in better, so very soon this post is gonna be in a funny place chronologically, but whatever…

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I’ve always wanted to be a dancer. There’s a joy in the movement of limbs to practically any music, even it is only to the beat of my own mind. Never mind how it seems to the people viewing it.
When I was younger, it was gay abandon that I energetically jigged to any random beat, throwing myself into the moment, quite literally. Sadly, it only lasted a few years till inhibitions hit, coupled with the hard realization that I’d been short-shifted my share of the so-called innate feminine grace characteristic of those born under the sign of the Fish. Suffice to say, ‘a bull in a china shop’ was not just a clichéd phrase when applied to me, just a fact of life. It took only a couple more failed attempts and a disastrous group performance at my school Annual Day to reinforce my belief that this would be just another unfulfilled dream.
Yet I always had a niggling tendency to tap my feet to a jingle, or nod my head in appreciation of a dance performance which served to remind me of my yearning. And occasionally I would lock myself up in a room, blast music and let go. There are a couple of highly embarrassing web-cam videos captured by my ever-so helpful friends when they happened to catch me in this act; but if there’s one thing college taught me, it’s to let go of my inhibitions in favour of having fun. [not completely, I’m not that crazy yet =) ] To the extent that, now whenever we have a DJ nite or even a college party, I’m one of the first dancers on the floor. That’s not to say that I’ve dramatically turned into grace personified, rather only that I’ve learnt to ignore my potential embarrassment and that has actually helped me look a lot less unfortunate when I’m trying to co-ordinate my motor movements.
Enthusiasm makes up for a lot, really. It led me to work up my courage to join a dance class, salsa at that and actually stick to it despite being reminded of my stiff and ungainly posture and what not ever so often. [Constructive criticism at it’s best!] It has paid off though – the occasional compliment, the sheer joy of a well-executed (passably) sequence of steps, of dancing in tandem with a partner [ even a stranger, maybe that helps, I don’t know], learning something new, no matter how awkward is really great. To top it all off, last class, this fresher told me that he was intimidated dancing with me because apparently I was very good at it. Wow. I hastily reassured him of practice making perfect, but inwardly I gloated. Repeatedly. 😀

I’ve always wanted to be a dancer. There’s a joy in the movement of limbs to practically any music, even it is only to the beat of my own mind. Never mind how it seems to the people viewing it.

When I was younger, it was gay abandon that I energetically jigged to any random beat, throwing myself into the moment, quite literally. Sadly, it only lasted a few years till inhibitions hit, coupled with the hard realization that I’d been short-shifted my share of the so-called innate feminine grace characteristic of those born under the sign of the Fish. Suffice to say, ‘a bull in a china shop’ was not just a clichéd phrase when applied to me, just a fact of life. It took only a couple more failed attempts and a disastrous group performance at my school Annual Day to reinforce my belief that this would be just another unfulfilled dream.

Yet I always had a niggling tendency to tap my feet to a jingle, or nod my head in appreciation of a dance performance which served to remind me of my yearning. And occasionally I would lock myself up in a room, blast music and let go. There are a couple of highly embarrassing web-cam videos captured by my ever-so helpful friends when they happened to catch me in this act; but if there’s one thing college taught me, it’s to let go of my inhibitions in favour of having fun. [not completely, I’m not that crazy yet =) ] To the extent that, now whenever we have a DJ nite or even a college party, I’m one of the first dancers on the floor. That’s not to say that I’ve dramatically turned into grace personified, rather only that I’ve learnt to ignore my potential embarrassment and that has actually helped me look a lot less unfortunate when I’m trying to co-ordinate my motor movements.

Enthusiasm makes up for a lot, really. It led me to work up my courage to join a dance class, salsa at that and actually stick to it despite being reminded of my stiff and ungainly posture and what not ever so often. [Constructive criticism at it’s best!] It has paid off though – the occasional compliment, the sheer joy of a well-executed (passably) sequence of steps, of dancing in tandem with a partner [ even a stranger, maybe that helps, I don’t know], learning something new, no matter how awkward is really great. To top it all off, last class, this fresher told me that he was intimidated dancing with me because apparently I was very good at it. Wow. I hastily reassured him of practice making perfect, but inwardly I gloated. Repeatedly. 😀

I have always lamented my inability to stay in touch with people excluding a small circle of friends from school and college. Also this automatically brings up a small envy of a few people I know, who seem to have a million contacts/ friends/ acquaintances whatever they term it who they seem to be on very good terms with, just when they need it.
I have obviously realized that it takes quite some effort to maintain a relationship, whether friendship or otherwise, but I am yet to determine whether it is inertia on my part or simple super-human efforts on the part of said friendly-people.
I think may need to put in just a little more, as I am on the verge of completing my internship and an entire batch of college friends are about to pass out. Just making friends is not sufficient; the joy lies in maintaining it, in the realization of the relatinship’s true worth.

I have always lamented my inability to stay in touch with people excluding a small circle of friends from school and college. Also this automatically brings up a small envy of a few people I know, who seem to have a million contacts/ friends/ acquaintances, whatever they term it, with whom they seem to be on very good terms , at any point of time.

I have obviously realized that it takes quite some effort to maintain a relationship, whether friendship or otherwise, but I am yet to determine whether it is inertia on my part or simple super-human efforts on the part of said friendly-people.

I think may need to put in just a little more, as I am on the verge of completing my internship and an entire batch of college friends are about to pass out. Just making friends is not sufficient; the joy lies in maintaining it, in the realization of the relationship’s true worth.