Mars vs Venus

Gender equality is the buzzword these days along with ‘startups’, ‘feminism’, ‘global-warming’ and ‘crossfit’. One word does not belong in that group and I am aware of that. Many women that I get to speak to in real life and the blogging world have suffered directly or indirectly because of the gender bias or inequality as a result of that bias. We cannot shy away from the fact that it is a real issue when it comes to society conditions, relationships, professional life, paychecks, etc. It has made life hard for a lot of women in history and even in this 21st century, it continues to be a challenge. If you are reading this after 100 years for whatever reasons, let me know if there has been any improvement, and also if space tourism did take off.

But I want to take a look at inequality in a different way, perhaps in more physical context here, that I am afraid is sort of in-built. I am looking at you God, and I do consider myself mad at you for creating us this way.

The worst difference in my eyes, is PMS-ing. I have spoken and written a lot about it. Why would God do this to us women-folk! Why?! If you are an atheist, please question evolution as to why do women have to writhe about in pain. The twisted me would love to see men doubling up in pain every month just when their partner’s time comes. Just trying for equality!

How many of you ladies have to carry a sweater/jacket/wrap to work even when it is literally a 100 degrees? How is it that men need the temperature so low that it is practically Siberia at work when it is Gobi Dessert outside? I wonder how the cooling system of men vs women is, that it turns men into sweaty pigs while women are shivering. I am sitting in office on this lovely Friday afternoon waiting to leave after a very busy week and very pissed off. I have a wrap around me and my right leg is hurting like it hurts in winters, when I can see glorious sun outside the window. I am thoroughly pissed off at the AC system and all the men in the office who are being whiny about it being too hot. Grrrrr.

Do you know the situation when you are enjoying a very satisfying pizza with beer and suddenly you are full, but not mentally full? You want to keep going because it is truly delicious but your stomach refuse anymore. Or it is a generous helping of some of the softest, tangiest Paneer Tikka Masala you have had, but your stomach is this close to bursting open. Or it is Abhi-Nish’s famous Kachchi Dabeli(Indian burger, sort of) and you just don’t want to stop but you don’t want the food flow to be reversed. And then you look at the men wolfing down all of it at a speed twice yours and at quantity thrice yours. This situation hurts me and makes me very jealous of their capacity to eat more. I wish greed could win over my stomach’s capacity, but I have had a lot of moments where gluttony has failed me. You’d think I would learn. Heh.

I have recently learnt a very cool tidbit about a biological difference between men and women. You know that lovely layer of fat deposit under our skin, that is a little too thick for our liking than that of Katrina Kaif or Blake Lively? Well, the structure of those fat cells is different in men and women. The collagen fibers form a vertical structure system in females and a criss-cross style system in males. It results in collagen giving us the bumpy effect on legs and tummy and elsewhere. It also gives men a very powerful advantage. That of opening jars more easily than women. It has something to do with less sliding of skin and better grip. Every time I have to open a jar, my first step of attack is to cry loudly for 5 minutes, then google videos and then finally smash the jar. I kid. Maybe not.

I am thankful for the squats at the gym, because when it comes to a public restroom after long hours of holding my pee in, that is the way to go. The classic ‘squat and hover’. I am very envious of men’s ability to go anywhere and everywhere without the hanging sword of infection or the danger of a bug-bite amidst wilderness. They don’t need privacy, or the need to cover up. bordering on shamelessness in my motherland where I have whistled many a times in a passing vehicle trying to embarrass them into sense. But apart from that kind of sh*tty behavior, it definitely is a boon. I specially feel the pinch at portable loos at camping grounds or race events.

Striving for equality? We shall see when that happens. But I look forward to the day when God re-considers what he created. It would be so nice to see my man PMS-ing, and I eat 3 whole Tiramisus on my own, pouring chocolate sauce on it directly from the jar that I opened. And then I can go pee on a tree like a dog.


The dinner dilemma

“Baby, let’s go out tonight.
What do you want for dinner?”
“Sure, that sounds cool,
I am cool with whatever.”

“Where do you wanna go?
Entrees and desert to share.
Fine dining or fast food?”
“I don’t really care.”

“How about some Italian?
And that wine tonight.”
“Umm, I don’t know.
I want something light.”

“Let’s get some Ramen.
The weather’s cool.”
“We just had it few weeks back.
Not really makin’ me drool.”

“We can do some other Asian,
You sure like Pad Thai.”
“I want something spicy.
It’s not in my top five.”

“Indian sounds good,
To stir up the flavor,”
“We eat that all the time.
Curry over and over.”

“How about Pizza or sandwich.
We shall get that fast.”
“But baby, I will be hungry again.
That definitely won’t last.”

“Just tell me what you want,
Enough of this game.”
“I knew you don’t care for me!
All your loving words are lame.”

“No babe, I am sorry!
We will do what you want.
We shall go out and eat.
Or I will cook if you shan’t.”

“Meh, I don’t wanna eat at home.
Let’s just go out.
You decide where to,
That I don’t wanna think about.”

The BAE suffers daily,
Driven nuts by a girlfriend or a wife.
I may be strong and independent,
But this is also the story of my life.



Haah! This is me day in and day out! With the significant other or with friends, my story is the same. I hate having to decide anything, specially cuisine and place to eat. I have almost cried because I couldn’t decide and have also made a few people shed tears by saying NO to everything. My strong Libran characteristics make it worse for me.

I hear the same going on with Shawn and his GF. This was partly inspired by one of his stories the other day. 🙂

The xBF had come up with an interesting solution. He would start asking what I was absolutely not feeling like having and then would narrow it down. So I had no other drama to entangle him in. Smart guy, him.

Public note : Girls, please don’t get mad at me. This comes from true experiences, but there’s no generalization. All of you who can make up their minds in a snap, I bow down to thee. 😀


Pearls of Wisdom

How would the sky look if it were all pink instead of the same old blue…

Are there aliens? And if they do exist, why won’t they contact us? But, why should they? Maybe they are smart enough to let us be. I mean, there has to be another galaxy or a solar system where there is an intelligent kind of life form. We can’t be a mere accident, for God’s sakes. Will we ever discover it? I hope not! We destroy anything that we touch. Opposite of Midas.

My toes are ugly. If I scrub my feet long enough, will the zebra tan go away? Maybe if I scrape off the top layer of the skin…

If I would have made myself study harder in 12th Board exams, I would have gotten a better college in Pune. Could have studied better for GRE and gotten a better school. I could have maybe had a great job. Wait. SO the end result would be the same. Meh. Whatever, I have a patent under my name now.

How do people have such flat stomachs? How do I make my tummy tire disappear? Can I cut it off?

How can a 6 degree turn change the temperature from cold to sh^t-my-skin-just-boiled-off!

How do I get a boyfriend? So long it has been…. On sooo many levels. But who cares. I am so not getting someone. This girl? Who takes, literally, 3-5 business days to reply to any text from a potential suitor?

Look at me wave. Double wave. Okay, I have stopped waving, but the flab on my upperarm won’t stop. Ugghh, stupid arm bat-wing. Can I cut it off??

Will I ever get married? Why, God, why did you(Insert the xBF’s name) have to leave! So hard to start over again. Are YOU getting married though? What’s the b^%$h’s name?? I almost don’t want you to marry. But you are sooooo nice. You should marry and be happy. I hate myself.

Holy F*&^%! All that is MY hair??

Sh#t, Reddit was right!! Dumbledore WAS death! He gave Harry the cloak, the stone and guided him to the wand. He even greeted him ta King’s Cross like an old friend! *MIND BLOWN!*

What do I eat?

*We never go out of style… We never go out of style…..JUST TAKE ME HOOOMMEEEEEEEE* ♫ ♬

I need a wardrobe change. I am bored of the clothes I have. I should be more fashionable. Why cant I buy new trends? Why do I wait for a year and then want? Why am I so stupid? Someone buy me new clothes, I am broke.

Should I put down the $1000 deposit on the new Tesla?

OW OW! My eyes!!! *Intense burning like hell is on fire!!*

Will I ever win a lottery? Hah! Fat chance with never even buying a ticket. Vegas is also not kind to me. I am going to be broke forever. Unless I marry rich. Hah! Fat chance.

Heh, I can’t twerk. 

If I can scrape off the skin on my feet, maybe I should do that to face too. But how?

Will Trump be the president? What would the socio-economic condition be if Bernie Sanders is the president? The Wall Street definitely has too much power and so do the lobbyists. Re-distribution of wealth is a great idea on paper but incredibly difficult to achieve considering the tax situation and the amount of people receiving benefits. What is the oil price today? Need to look it up. Do not look up 401K again today. LEAVE IT ALONE! Is Clinton going to be charged for the email-privacy-Benghazi thing?

If I cup my hands at my stomach and collect the water, and let go like this… *SPLASH!!*

If I cross my arms correctly, even bigger *SPLASSSHHHH*

I look like a prune now. Gotta get out.

Shower is such a fun place to think, innit?



The ‘Om’ Project

Since more than a month now, I have started going for Yoga classes on Fridays. I used to go for yoga once a week at San Diego State with Karen and then I stopped after I moved to OC. It could be one of the hundred things I try when I get bored of myself, or it could be a lasting thing, I don’t know. But the experience so far has been good. I feel more supple when I stretch because strength training can leave me with aching tense muscles, and I know I don’t stretch every day. The first day that I walked in, everybody’s expression was like “Hey! You are Indian! You got this!” I was feeling all gung ho about it. I had chosen to ignore the fact that I hadn’t done a dot of yoga in almost 3 years, not counting the 10 min of stretching when I used to learn belly dancing. We started with basic breathing techniques and stretching and I beamed with the thought, yes, I really got this. And that’s when things went downhill.

      “Oh my God! My wrists are going to snap! There is zero strength.”


      “Why the hell are my feet and palms so small! Such less square footage! Downward dog… Arrggghh. It’s like making a Honda Civic balance itself on skinny cycle tyres.”



      “Don’t give up! Don’t give up! Fine, one knee down.”

      “PB, keep breathing! You are killing yourself!”

Nisha, having a lot of experience with yoga, had explained the difference between Hathaflow and Vinyasa and to my utter horror, my teacher makes us practice Vinyasa for 60% of the class. I have no sense of direction or side. With her left and rights and turning towards the front, I end up working out the same side twice and then I feel imbalanced. She has to tell us/me to not look at her with anger and smile in her delightful sing-song East-European accent. “Daunt look at mi wid angerrr. Smyle everrrybaady!”

Yet I was managing things just fine. Till a cute guy joined the class two Fridays ago. He looked at me and smiled and I so did not want him to see me contort myself in grotesque shapes with pain writ across my face.

By the end of the first class though, everybody’s ‘You got this!” look had turned into utter disappointment. It’s okay. I am used to that expression. Crushing hopes is a hobby of mine!

But I will chug along the choo-choo train of Yoga. One day I will progress from my shoulder stand to a head stand and I will have the last laugh while I look absolutely comfortable in a full-split.


Tax-exempted dreams

So the budget is out, and the good and the bad is being discussed and shredded by newspapers. There is the usual cacophony of screaming Arnub Goswami “You will not talk about income tax deductions when I am talking about Bharat Mata ki Jai!!!!!!!” and the Congress brouhaha where RG wants Suit-Boot ki sarkaar to reduce costs of dhoti, punctuated with Kejriwal’s whimpers for tax relief on cough medicines and naturopathy Resorts. Modiji will smile and announce that “Govt cares, we pinky-promise”, and our lives will go like always with literally zero changes.

I am upset with a lot of things. Like always. Yes, I want the farmers to progress and yes, I want food available readily and for that we need some sort of security. But I still really, really want some things to be done properly. I don’t currently live in India but I can’t help thinking of how it would be if I was or ow it should be if I were to move back.

Now if I could be all ditzy(like always) and  if I could ask for 5 sops, what would I want??

1. Tax free income :
I work really, really hard to make money. I have to pretend to sit at my desk while I pore over Pinterest and Stumbleupon and ahem, WordPress. I have to endure endless Starbucks Grandes just so that I can look like a normally functioning adult when these oldies have their endless meetings over something as mundane as how to save the company from folding over. And what do I get for that? A paycheck literally cut in half. Like, I don’t even…

2. Cheap drinks :
I am all about priorities. I am not happy with the costs of booze rising and the exorbitant taxes in pubs or nightclubs. I am not for harming my liver AND my wallet at the same time. One thing at a time. The more accessible booze is, the better my mood will be and better for the society it will be. I am less sarcastic, less angry and generally happy when drunk. Same goes for soda served in restaurants. What’s with a gazillion taxes? The kid in a non-descript village has not sacrificed his drinking water just to make me say no to soda because of the damn price. Do the kid a favor, and me too.

3. Cheap food :
A happy tummy is a happy life. My Michael Kors purse feels more and more stretched when I go to eat out. Why is the Finance ministry making eating out more expensive? Dal-Chawal at home is for losers. I just want to have my usual fare of Paneer Tikka, and Pasta Arabiatta and Margherita Italiana pizza without paying for sweeping the Indian streets. I mean, if I am not doing it, why should I pay to do it, that’s what that’s for, right?

4. Tax deduction for makeup and retail :
Our country needs to catch up with the rest of the world, globally and be a global giant on this globe. I totally support FDI and I am absolutely think it will help India reach places. I want Sephora to set up more shops. I want a Clinique counter in EVERY Big Bazar. I want Kat Von D and Too Faced and Nars easily accessible when I run out of my coral blush. I want to be able to run over to Victoria’s Secret when I am not in the mood for laundry. And trust me, we ALL need LuluLemon yoga pants in our lives. And what’s with having to fly abroad every time I need a new Coach handbag?

5. All wheel drive SUVs :
Have you seen the potholes on the roads??In USA, they call it offroading for adventure, in India we call it onroading. Another reason I refuse to pay for sweeping those potholed silly streets. I need a Jeep Cherokee in my life with an all-wheel drive, just to be able to safely go over to my office where I work so hard, without having to spend more money to soothe aching shoulders. Also, road trips! Wheee!

Siggghh, such hard life the Sonam Kapoors and Gwyneth Paltrows around us have…


10 Valentine gifts for instant breakup…

It is coming! Apocalypse of Love is coming! This is the 3rd consecutive year where I am going to absolutely hate on the concept of Valentine’s day and curse the xBF to oblivion and utter some abusive words for the Crush, who’s name I am sure I won’t remember when I come back to read this post in a few years.

I had jotted down some interesting points on how to spread the joys of Single Awareness Day on Valentine’s day. If you want to read about that, go HERE. If you still insist on not being ‘aware’, go ahead and do your thing.

For people who are a part of a couple and want to be on the fast track to being single, I am going to make your job easier by listing down some of the top instant-breakup gifts that you can give a girl. Because I am a girl. Also dear future partner, let this be a guide to ‘what-not-to-gift-PB-like EVER’.

  1. Envelope with straight up cash : You are her lover and not her mother’s sister’s husband who got invited to the wedding. You must make a better distinction between the occasions. Since, we are on the point, checks, Visa gift cards are also off the table.
  2. Weird Und*rw*ar : My friend had gotten his GF this really weird thing with strategic keyholes, and yes, he told me because we are almost siblings and he was sharing how lost he felt in the store, which incidentally was called ‘Pink Kitty’. He never ended up giving it to her after seeing the face I made. Ha! Also, I don’t know who or why someone would like edible UGs. Nope.
  3. Deodorant : Perfumes are beautiful. Perfumes are sensual, playful, s*xy. But, please, do not give a girl Deo sprays. It is almost like telling her that she stinks.
  4. Cookbooks or cookware : Unless she really enjoys cooking or requests you specifically, giving a cookbook or cookware says that you want her to seriously work on her cooking.
  5. Bunch of yellow roses : A friend actually gave his wife a dozen yellow roses and she was horrified! His reason was that the yellow roses were cheaper by almost 2 bucks a pop. He is lucky that they were already married. For the uninitiated, if you want to or have been in a cuddle with someone, give them red roses! Yellow = Friendship.
  6. Showpieces/Figurines : I don’t know how to describe these, but these are the little pieces you get in greeting card stores like Hallmark or archies, that look like little angels or birds or dogs or cherubic babies. An ex used to give me a bunch of these and I hated them. What the hell am I supposed to do with these in a dorm room and no home to decorate?! Moo hates them too and her line of reasoning involves a dust-phobia. It is true! The amount of dust we have in India, makes keeping home spick n’ span really hard!
  7. Self-help book : Give her ‘How to be a nicer person’ and say bye-bye to love forever.
  8. Clothes or bags : Some people like to get clothes as gifts. But if your girl is like me and extremely picky, I would suggest to steer clear. Most men that I am friends with or have dated, have not had (good)similar taste in clothes as mine and it makes an awkward situation when I express the desire to exchange a la Rachel from Friends.
  9. Gym membership : Are you calling her FAT?!?!?!?!
  10. A small velvet box, with no ring inside : This is the worst gift I have ever seen if you are dating. I saw a vlog by a very famous youtube personality’s boyfriend who gifted her a small square box on their anniversary with a bow on top and recorded her reaction. They had decided no gifts, but he was trying to be sweet. She went all oooh and aaaah and emotional and opened the box only to see a tiny gold chain inside. Her next set of oohs and aahs was weirdly high pitched and absolutely fake.

So, keep this in mind and have a good Valentine’s day. Whatevs.

Valentines-Day-Jokes-06 (1)


10 types of people on my Instagram

I am a social media nut and I have said that many times before. I happen to have two Instagram accounts in my life and no, they don’t know about each other. *Evil grin* One account is my personal one, and the second newer, but less updated one, is my blog account. I am not totally sure why I started the second one, but wanting to show off the few fun things I do(rarely) to my blog readers is a likely reason.

I follow quite a few people on both these accounts and I have noticed some fun things about the kind of pictures posted by certain people on my feed. I decided to list some of the categories I could make out. I am going to exclude bloggers from the list because A.) I don’t want you all to get mad at me; and B.) I don’t want to categorize those as they can be exclusively fashion/makeup/food/lifestyle blog accounts. I had made a similar list with people on Facebook, and have a look here.
So, what kind of people do I know on Instagram?

1. One eyed monsters 
: I have queens as well as kings of selfies on my Instagram feed. I have never seen both their eyes in one shot and this goes for girls and even few boys. The hair is exactly the same with bangs on one side and straight shoulder length hair with layers. The face is always tilted in an angle. I don’t think they can ever get a Passport made, because they will never look straight into the camera! I have a genuine question. Do you use superglue to keep the hair in the same position?? 

I woke up like this. Really. And spent the next 20 min brushing my hair to normalcy.


2. Must-kiss-everybody : These people have a lot of love in their hearts and they go above and beyond ‘free hugs’. They want to give kissie to everybody. I think their parents forced them to kiss every aunt and uncle and this has resulted in the permanent pout. What else could the reason be? As for the duck face, they are just trying to figure out if they should ‘swallow or spit it out’. 😉

3. The Collagers : Every picture is a collage of 10 pictures. And IG doesn’t let you zoom. So all I see are tiny blobs of colors in a big blob. I also know many people who take 8 selfies and put it in one picture, as if they are the bombs and they can’t make their mind up about where they are the prettiest. Like, what? Please choose, about 5. That looks prettier and gets the story across. And my myopic eyes can see the pictures.

4. The Hunger Game-ers : All you see is food, food and some more food. Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner, snacks, Starbucks, everything makes their way on their IG. I specially want to mention Starbucks, because since the day it set up shop in India, it’s almost like they are handing out death penalty if you buy something there and don’t put up a picture. #maakehaathkakhana is a buzzword now, and so is #foodgasm. I have never seen #garmagaramchai so popular in the same field as #bruschettaItaliana. Also, what’s with a #iamsohealthynow when they put up a picture of a smoothie that they drink once in 6 months?


Sh*t we do to lose 10 grams.

Which brings me to…

5. Health bugs : Say hello to unnecessary tips and advices on how to lose that pound that you don’t want to lose. So, do you walk around lifting your shirt up, or is it a special treat for my eyes the 683rd time over? You look good, and could perhaps be fit, but please wipe that dripping sweat off first. 

I lift tiny weights and pretend to be a badass.


6. #Hashtagaddicts : #OMG #Toomanyhastags #icantmakesenseofasingleword #yourhashtagaddictionismessingupmyeyesightandmygrammar #pleasestopandsavehumanity

7. Moral science teachers : I want to thank you for imparting me life lessons with a picture of either your new haircut or a selfie or some crumpled paper on the floor. Everything has a deep meaning to it and I wish I had your insight. I bow to thee.

8. PDA-tors : They inspire me to fall in love, and express my love to my partner, ALL THE TIME. The second when they aren’t indulging in a show of affection, is a wasted second. God forbid if you can tear them apart during group pictures. Nope, sir. I am fine with it, as long as I don’t have a story to tell to a newborn of their conception. None of my close friends do this though and I want them to. Just for kicks.

9. Party animals : Thanks to these guys, I feel like my life is one big bore. How do you have the energy to go to every party, every concert, on every single weekend?! I am a dead zombie who is on the far end of even its zombie life(death?).

I step out once in a blue moon and make sure EVERYONE knows.

10. The Scrapbookers : The true memory makers, who only put pictures from old memory books and send me reeling into nostalgia. Sheesh. Sniff.
Now where do I fit? I am the most normal(YES! Believe it!) Instagrammer who puts a giant whirling mix of everything above! Haha! Except, life lessons. I am the last person in the world who should hand out those. Except you, Bhakti, I KNOW EVERYTHING.
I am vain AF, I put selfies when I feel good about myself, I put recipes when I feel like a Masterchef. I put pictures to show where I was on last Friday night, and it totally could be my own living room. I put nostalgic pictures of my buddies when I miss them. Basically, my Instagram accounts have everything under the sun. 🙂

I would perhaps be a PDA-tor too if I had a PDA-worthy person. Just kidding, #NoNopeNever.


10 reasons why it’s hard to be a woman 

It’s a hard job belonging to the female species. 

Excuse me for this rant, but someone’s gotta say it. Don’t forget to read this with a pinch of salt. And a lemon wedge. With tequila.

1. Periods. Hi! Did I just make you all very uncomfortable?? 😉 Just the word is enough to curdle blood of any man, and send a gush of wild hormones in a woman’s vein. It hurts like a B*tch, feels disgusting, and leaves you so uncomfortable that you cannot sit, sleep or even sneeze in peace. Everything hurts. Including the sound of anyone breathing. Also, don’t ever tell a woman that the whole reason for the pain is to create life and miracle and all that jazz when she is PMS-ing. Just don’t.

2. Hair Removal. It is very easy for guys to say that they can’t stand girls who have hair on their arms or legs. In the same breath, they will say that oooh, they don’t know how women can rip off their hair and they will never do it. To rebel, I don’t wax my arms. And I am proud of my peach fuzz. Deal with it. There is nothing unhygienic about it. I go without touching my legs for months sometimes and I am brave enough to go to the gym in shorts.

3. Nails. We were at the bar the other day and 2 friends mentioned how they feel that if a girl’s nails are done, then it’s like a given thing that the girl is neat, clean and takes care of herself. So basically, to prove someone of my hygiene commitment, I am expected to blow up $40-$60 for a mani-pedi every week. Hmmmmmm.

4. Hair. Haircuts are the most stressful things. THE MOST EVER! People say it will grow out, it’s just hair. But the damn bird’s nest takes months to look presentable if gone wrong. Washing hair is a huge task and some poor ladies have to do it every day (make that 90% of non-desi girls I know). I hate the whole business of wetting, shampooing, then rinsing, then conditioning, then rinsing again and waiting forever for my hair to dry. Shorter hairstyles haven’t helped either, because if dried wrong, it looks horrible. I don’t want to get into the whole ironing/curling/blowdrying process. I don’t understand how women get up half an hour earlier to do their hair. Respect.

5. Shopping. This applies to only indecisive women like me. I will go to a store, browse just with my eyes, without touching anything, will get depressed about not finding anything, will leave, will come back after 15 minutes, browse again, will find something which is more expensive than my grocery budget of the month, will curse the economy of the country and walk out. Then I will go home and regret not buying the same thing for about 6 months to a lifetime. If I have some event, the first thing to pop in my head are outfit options. I will style everything in my head perfectly before realizing that not only I don’t have 60% of items but neither the tall lean stature to carry it off. Sigghh.

6. Fat accumulation. I cannot stand the belly bulge when I am sitting down. B**bies are the worst offenders in this case. Br*s can be f-ing annoying and more so if new weight is gained. Cannot even burn the damn br*s because then any body movement will be agony. Sheesh. We women have been blessed to deposit fat directly on our torso for some goddamn reason. It is very, very easy to accumulate it, but so hard to get rid of it. This is injustice. This brings me too…

7. Food. For the general public, ‘A moment on the lip, forever on the hips.’ For most women, ‘On belly, upper arms, bust, butt, upper legs.’ To all ladies who like their drinks, yes, beer belly is a reality.

8. Shoes. When Eve bit into the apple, God punished her by condemning her to eternal sin, and by creating high heeled shoes. When they say beauty comes at a price, they really mean it. I love the look of high heeled shoes, but my feet decided to be flat and have awkward joints with tapering toes(bunion) and that effectively put an end to my high heeled ambitions. Also, never ask a girl to walk home if she is in her heels, unless you want a kick with the same stilettoes.

9. Childbirth. First of all, who decided to give women certain child bearing years, while leaving men with practically their life time to work the family jewels? Why the hell are eggs finite? That’s just so unfair. Even worse is, why did it have to be so F-ing painful and agonizing and even more hormone-y than menstruation? Plus, I definitely have a problem with the glorification of motherhood in movies, TV, or society in general. Some woman either cannot have kids or don’t want to have kids, or some may even want kids but just adopt. IT’S FINE.

10. Judgement. Patriarchy. Prejudice. Inequality. Inferiority. Enough said.

Now you can shoot that tequila down.



Motion Se Emotion

If you are easily disgusted by talks about poopies, please DO NOT continue further. If you cannot stand talks about toilet habits, please STOP NOW. Or maybe you can just watch the Piku trailer. Whatever. MOO I know you will hate this post! Ani, I am sure you are already fascinated.



Have you guys seen Piku yet? Or at least seen the trailer? I will link it down below so that you can watch it. It is pretty cute and funny.

Regarding the toilet humor, quite literally, I found it hilarious and one that resonates with my household pretty much.

We are a family of people with badddd stomachs. And it includes the dog as well. Our daily discussions start in the morning with the quality of motion. My parents and I are hoarders of Sat Isapgol(hemp flax?!?) which is a natural fibrous laxative. The most exciting thing to have happened when I was newly exploring San Diego after my new move to USA, was discovring packets of Isapgul at an Indian grocery store. It was magnificent.

My father is always complaining about how he is either constipated or he has diarrhea. He will claim he needs to eat less because his stomach is not okay, but you don’t see that in reality. How the heck is he still so skinny, I have no idea. I remember hearing the same dialogue every day of my life since childhood, “I will eat light tonight, my tummy feels bloated.” My mother has issues with fissures because she ignored a lot of her digestive health as a child and also childbirth pretty much screws women up. So, she is not supposed to be eating very spicy, ginger-ey or garlic-ey food. Yet she does, and proceeds to complain about it till you get sick of it and yell at her, like, if she knows she is not supposed to eat those things, then why would she! She is also allergic to eggs and screws up her stomach with even a piece of cake, or anything that has eggs in it. Yet, she will eat that and then complain all night, morning and day.

I, am worse, in many ways. My laziness is at such a height, that when I was a kid, I wouldn’t go for days, just because it seemed like so much work. I had learned how to control myself, despite all the warnings I got from my parents all the time. It made travelling in trains and buses easier for sure. It annoys me to death, the way my mom will go to the loo in the train first thing in the morning, and will come back and ask for the paper soap and napkin in front of the ENTIRE compartment of people. I cannot stand the thought of going for my business in the train. Ewwwwwwwwww. When visiting India for the first time after starting my Masters, I had to go to Indore for a cousin’s wedding by train, within a couple of days of landing. While there, I made a fabulous decision of drinking 4-5 glasses of yummy jaljeera, in that sweltering heat, and god knows what kind of water. My mom always makes me carry a bottle of water from home since a 9 year old me got Typhoid. The jaljeera binge looked like the worst idea ever when it ruined my time. My grand plans of eating all the awesome chaat, that is so famous and that I thoroughly miss, went down the, errr, flush. The train ride back home was miserable, since I was shooting from both the ends and had a fever going on. The lesser said the better. I remember eating only ice cream for the next 2-3 days. It was just horrible.

I am usually oscillating between the two ends of the spectrum. It’s either nothing, or diarrhea. I tend to develop the latter at the time of an exam or interview. I have learnt to keep Pudin Hara(a green mint capsule) with me ALL the time. If I eat Thai food, I need it guaranteed. If I eat spicy street food in India, I will need it. If I have an important meeting or presentation, like hell I will need it. On the day of my flight back to USA in January, I spent the lat few hours at home flitting in and out of the loo. My uncle would call to talk to me and say bye and he called me 4 times, and the times I was inside. He was laughing because he knows my agony way too well. His 10 year old boy has the same stomach and mental disorder. Do you know the feeling when you are super sure that if you dig in the ground at a certain point, you WILL find treasure, but it’s a fruitless effort? Sighhhhhh. The hurt and the disappointment. 

You know, if I am going out or have a party to attend in the evening, I start planning my outfit as soon as I learn about the event. The next thing that pops in my hair is about when to wash my hair. And the third thing is, how and when to go and empty my stomach. If I have an early morning road trip, touristy thing, my running events, I HAVE to wake up so that I keep half an hour to get ready and around 45 minutes just to force my stomach to behave itself and let it go….(Elsa style from Frozen). The day I accomplish this, I have a certain glow about me. 

When I lived with roommates in Lonavala during my Engg, we were a super conscious bunch who overcame eventually the need to tell that they are going to need the loo for quite some time. It was 4-5 girls and one restroom. It had to happen. Thankfully the bathroom and loo were separate! But during the deed, we would be constantly flushing because OMG, lest someone hears us doing something that every human being HAS to do. One of the roommates, IB, did not think we could hear. So we ended up naming her Ploppity Plop. 😀 In the States, we have the exhaust fans installed in restrooms, which makes me feel so much better. But I have my own bathroom in my room now, so I am at peace. At work, I tend to go for any business when no one else is there. I don’t know why, but I need complete privacy. If someone comes when I am in a stall, I go deathly still until they have left. Mind you, my work starts at 7.30 am. It is way too early for even my head to function, it’s a long way ahead for the tummy. I end up going for the deed at work mostly, after making sure that all the stalls are empty. I am not a big coffee drinker except an occasional iced coffee or well, free coffee in office(which is disgusting by an unanimous opinion by people). But I have discovered the potency of just 2-3 sips of hot coffee or green tea. That’s all I need. The flip side? Since 3 weeks, my weekends at home have been extremely disappointing. I hope I am not getting addicted. Drink more water, PB!!

I haven’t even mentioned about the dog yet. Moony’s sessions are just funny. First, in order to avoid making the surroundings dirty, we carry a newspaper page with us. Now in USA, you get baggies with which you scoop the poop up, and I have done that for my old roommate’s dog. But I feel it just leads to landfill and my mom is more worried about the cost bit. So newspaper works better. Now as soon as Moony squats and gets into the position, my mom quickly put the paper right under him. She just has to pick up the paper after, ball it up and put it into trash. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. Our day is spent trying to dissect the quantity and the quality of his poop. My father claims that he can even read Moony’s facial expression to figure out how satisfied he was with the outcome. I am told about all this even on Skype. Sometimes he doesn’t seem too happy with his business, so we know that an extra trip outside is going to happen. Sometimes we know he needs to eat his bit of grass to calm the sounds from his tummy. As he is getting older, we see all signs of an older grandpa in him. His tummy is much weaker now. You can hear his tummy making gurgling sounds a lot of times. He is turning into Mr. Stinkaroo as well.

We are strange people with stranger toilet habits. One thing that I totally miss about my half an hour on the pot in India, is reading my Pune Times or Pune Mirror. Such was our level of dedication that my dad had installed a makeshift rack to put the newspaper. US weekly just doesn’t cut it. During exam times, I used to sneak in my Nancy Drews and other books. It was the only place where my mom wouldn’t suspect me of any funny business. Although the Indian loos in the old houses would screw my knees. I do not recommend squatting for 30 min straight. 

Squatting reminds me that it is supposed to be the best position. So, Shawn and I ordered three of these things called the Squatty Potty, One for each of us and I actually took one to India to gift my parents. It was quite appreciated. 😀


11 kind of people on my FB feed

I am a Facebook addict. I must check my account every hour or so to see what is happening in people’s lives that I would give two hoots for. During one such FB staring session last night, I mentally divided my FB list into these types. 

Mind you, this can be universal and has been joked about before. I am not claiming this to be totally original because I am pretty sure I have read something similar, but it’s not copied either. Please get my point, okay?

1.       The ones who like every dog, cat, random animal picture and shares like a 100 of those. That’s my army y’all.

2.       The ones who only like pictures or comments. Silent stalkers. Silent farters. Lol. Real mature, PB.

3.       The ones who don’t say anything for months, and suddenly FB message you a ‘Hie’. Creep alert.

4.       The ones who treat FB like it is a private diary. Their love life is totally open for everyone to peek, glare, stare into.

True story…

5.       The ones who need English lessons really badly. ‘Ma’ for ‘my’ is my pet peeve. ‘Hu’, ‘Lyf’, etc. Uggghhhh.

6.       The ones who post selfies or general taken-in-a-mall picture with a totally deep quote/message. If it’s a quote, its usually by a really obscure author.

7.       The ones who treat FB like a sarcastic message sender. If you try asking them what the status means or for who, they will go ‘Ha ha, just for fun.”

8.       The ones who you can trust for live sport updates if you are not in front of the TV. I wonder how much game do they actually see? Or have they developed their blind typing instinct like Ani?

9.       The ones who are fanatics for a political party/religious outfit. It’s madness! I hate them pretty much and I would remove them, only if they weren’t family or close to me.

10.   The ones who are  incessant viral video posters. Thanks a bunch for eating up my data.

11.   The last and the best. The normal ones. Like me. YES, ITS TRUE. DON’T LAUGH!