On Facebook while I wait for E Vestigio to turn up for our Sunday evening catch-up/gripe/giggle dinner-date. Clearing out pending messages, updated status (blah, I’m running out of exciting things to claim I’m doing) and even looked into Twitter. And now this idle mind turns to mischief. So I use…
Sensitive is simply how much you allow yourself to. To illustrate, a poem from long ago. Who do you suppose is being referred to here?
“Does it get better?” she asks. She thinks because I’m older, I’ll also be wiser. Can I give her an honest answer?
Lunch at the cafe, alone. At long last. My thoughts and I dine together. I’m Jill and I want lunch. The host wants me to sit in any one of the dingy corners and ignore the brighter, roomier booths in the centre. I make a wry face so he concedes…
Who’s your Office Spouse? Mine is the voice you hear even before mine.
Raj Thackeray was arrested yesterday. Ho hum, so what else is new? I woke up to the news channels airing footage shot hours ago, of the MNS chief being escorted into the police van at Ratnagiri and a few fancy-looking maps showing blinking dots in the areas of Borivili, Andheri,…
I sailed the sea to the Greek islands and Turkey, promising myself I wouldn’t blog or stress or do any of my usual. Two days in, I reached for my pen.
I spotted this on the Mains and Crosses blog a while ago. I must stop to explain why I picked up this picture and decided to write a post about it. I am not religious; haven’t been for many years now. That picture is not visible on the blog anymore…
Being a nice girl comes with much social currency. But is being nice really that strong a moral virtue? I think not. And here’s why.
“He isn’t quite a male chauvinist, just an Indian man.” said a review about a character. What does this mean? I looked at the men in my life through this lens.