Doing The Right Thing

Source: sueunerman.com

The shortcut to happiness is lying. There’s no two ways about it. I even blogged about it the last month. Although most of us lie, not everyone is a good liar. What separates a good liar from the bad one is their body language and memory. I’m one of the bad liars.

For You - XIII

PS: This is an episodic romantic story. Every week, a new episode will be published.

First Part. Second Part. Third Part. Fourth Part. Fifth Part. Sixth Part. Seventh Part. Eighth Part. Nineth Part. Tenth Part. Eleventh Part. Twelfth Part.

A note crept toward her book. From the corner of her eyes, she could see the hand that was pushing the note. Simmi warily lifted her head from the book to take a look at the pusher, and promptly wished she hadn’t. The last couple of months had been hell for her and she wasn’t ready to speak to Arpit.

Almost daily she called up Darpan uncle because at some level she sympathized with him for having Arpit for a son. Headstrong, stubborn and stupid, if not self-centered. How could a father be happy with such a son?

Trying to understand Arpit was beyond her. She had accepted it and so she didn’t even want to try anymore. She just wanted to get on with her life. The first step was staying away from him during this semester. In the last semester, his drug stunt had caused her to lose her top ranking. Her embarrassment had been acute when she had passed the first semester with just a first class.

Smart Parents For Better Vacations

Source: www.fundsindia.com

I lovvveeee kids. Well, that's an exaggeration. But yes, I love them. Usually. I mean, for at least 5 minutes. Or until they break out screaming and crying. Or until my head explodes listening them whine. Yes, I know what you are thinking. You must be thinking being a whiner myself, why can't I stand whining kids? Well, because I hate competition. I can whine and rant for hours. I don't need kids to overtake me in this race of whining.

Unfortunately, this sentiment of mine is not reflected by women of my age. I don't know about men because I haven't spoken to them about their kids. But women! Let me tell you this, they love their children but they love their freedom more.

Road Battles

Source: http://www.pinterest.com/pin/3588874677372341/

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom called TrafficJamDom. The kingdom, which was sprawled over 500 km², harbored over 2 million carriages and wagons. Not to mention donkeys, mules and horses used by the citizens when traveling alone. The kingdom had population of more than 1.5 crores. It was a total nightmare for the king to handle the speedily rising population and the number of carriages and wagons.

Being Adventurous In Goa

Amazing Goa Beach

Well, being adventurous is easy and fun when you are young and fit. However, the matter takes an interesting turn when you are errr…..fat. There, I said it. Apart from having problems in fitting into normal-sized clothes, fat people are always scared of treading on someone’s toes because their kindness is directly proportional to their weight.

The same holds true for me.

Secret To Prosperity

Source: en.wikipedia.org

Jowaki was sweaty and tired. She hated traveling, especially by bus. And to top it off, they were traveling to a remote village. She still couldn’t understand why she was being dragged! It wasn’t as if her relatives would miss her. She hadn’t met any relatives from her mother’s side in last 7 years when they had shifted from Gokulpur to Ahmedabad. Generally talking on phone was enough but as it was mom’s first cousin’s wedding, they had to visit.

Loved And Lost

Source: www.forwallpaper.com

Yes, I was different. Not that I liked different colours or different things. It was much more than that.

Being brought up in a typical Indian society, I was taught to cook and sew from childhood. Many times Sundays were spent in the company of mom learning how to pickle mangoes and how to roll out the perfect round roti. All this was done when I was internally dying to watch my favourite cartoon on TV.

I was even given good education in prestigious convent school. When I was in high school, my parents enrolled me in good tuition classes. They wanted me to score good marks. They wanted me to be perfect. A perfect cook, a perfect scholar, a perfect career woman, a perfect daughter, a perfect wife, and a perfect mother.

But I wasn’t perfect.