Dear Santa…

If you are looking at gifting me something this year, gift me time. Whole lot of it. Time to do what I love, like and enjoy. Time to read more, watch more television [a woman can have a few vices you know], to run more, spend more time with family and friends, cook more, and yeah do some real travelling. And yeah, loads of happiness and cheer.

I have never believed in Santa, not even at age seven. Let's say, Santa did't quite feature in our Christmas celebrations, 25th of December was all about cakes and cousins, and ten days of respite from school. I was that kid, who knew there's no Santa, but played along anyway.

At the risk of sounding pretentious, I now say, I want to believe in Santa, the chimney, the stockings... the whole thing. Maybe because now my wishlist is longer than it ever was.

Merry Christmas!

Wake up and smell the coffee – Part Deux

The feelings. Be cautious. Very cautious.

Yeah the quintessential feelings bit. You are now at a very, very vulnerable state of mind. You have all the time to read between the lines, the words and often the alphabets too. So, do advise your friends, ex-colleagues, parents, neighbours, maids and particularly the spouse to refrain from speaking without thinking. And often refrain from speaking at all.

But make no mistake; you don’t quite function this way. You don’t have to. Remember, you are the vulnerable one. You have the liberty to let your feelings lose, thinking with your heart or the brain, as you please. Or for that matter, not thinking at all.

addendum - The image is here because, when you go to corbis and type 'feelings', this is the most arty and pretty image you get. The image description did not make sense, and why do I care.

Wake up and smell the coffee – Part Un

The thing called TIME.

When you don’t have to worry about time, you tend to notice/imagine/comprehend things that you wouldn’t have otherwise.

Take more than 7 minutes to pick an orange and you imagine that the ones that you aren’t selecting have some rare skin disorder.

Don’t hurry with your walk back home from the corner grocery store and you would notice the three new stray dogs in your locality. All of them hate you. Make your move, stop to say hello.

You could also experience something murkier than cute dogs and bright oranges. Like witnessing a neighbourhood extramarital affair; one that could get you killed. No ordinary death would do, a let’s-silence-her-before-she-spills kind of death. And if you must know, the man and woman in question could be above 70 years of age; but what has age got to do with love or for that matter, the ominous look, that yes-we-are-on-to-something look. And that’s the look, you get every single time, you look at them. And why do you look at them repeatedly? What else can you do, when you walk at 2.1 mph for an hour.

A new month, a new number… new tidings

[sorry about the most typical image, but it's pretty]

It’s been sometime since I felt this way. That feeling of uncertainty that hope, not knowing what to expect, not knowing what to let go. Wanting the phone to ring, the inbox to be busy. That funny feeling in the tummy [guess with this one I am going overboard, but really there is].

I have been wanting to advise. So what do I do when I want to advise and do not have any takers? I use my blog space to do so. Will you judge me if do a little advising here?

Good andt comfortable makes sense. Of course it does.

Boring but comfortable, still makes sense.

But bad and comfortable doesn’t.

If it’s bad and comfortable, then it’s time to scoot. Just run okay?

Don’t think too much about the repercussions, sure there will be. But if you think too much, you will never get to scoot, and which means you will never know, what awaits you after the run. Did I make much sense there? Did I?

Didn’t I start on a sunny note? Whatever… it’s time for new, new things!