Category Archives: Personal

{G} I’m grateful for…

Getting back to artLife is Beautiful!

Starting some DIY projects

My adorable fur babies

Walks in the park

An inspiring husband

A peaceful life

What are you grateful for today?

I wish I could

Wish upon a starI wish  I could live in a cottage by the lake,
read, dream, garden, potter around.

I wish I could spend my time
painting, photographing, writing, cooking.

I wish I was surrounded by friends and loved ones,
talking, sharing, communing.

I wish life was simpler,
relaxed, carefree, joyful, abundant.

I wish…

What do you wish for?

Inspired by Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop

Bringing up the Teriyaki Boys

Their cries filled the car. Going from pitiful sobs, begging for mercy, to whimpering and then urgent cries of protest. When that didn’t improve their lot, they cried in indignation and then in full blown anger. “You think we are helpless?” those screams seemed to say. “We’ll show you! We have some tricks up our sleeves too.”

Iz takinz a joy ridez

Ai iz takinz a joy ridez. This be the only joy ridez ai likez.

It was relentless. Without pause. When one piped down to draw breath, the other would keep the tempo going. Mid-way through, their howls became ominous. And then there was a sudden silence. To be broken a few seconds later by the sound of newspaper being mercilessly tortured. And then the smell of fresh cat poop assailed our nostrils.

We dutifully pulled over at the side of the road. Cleaned up our kittens and the carrier. And proceeded onwards again. And as soon as the car moved forward, their caterwauling began afresh.

Iz bullies youz into submissionz

Ai bullies youz into submissionz. You be submitting to mai willz nowz.

Our only salvation, of sorts, was when we finally reached the vet. But even there, they struggled to break free of our grasp. To escape the horrid humans who put them through that torturous car ride. Which they probably realized would begin again soon enough, for they had to be taken home.

The drive back was an equal torture, with their ever rising howls reaching an alarming crescendo. I was surprised that the motorists around us couldn’t hear anything. That the policeman at the traffic light thought nothing was amiss, that we were just another couple returning home from work.

Iz bravez and mighty hunter. Be scared. Be very scared.

Ai bravez n mighty hunter. Be scared. Be very scared.

By the time we entered the house, my head was pounding furiously. But our ordeal was far from over. For now we had to clean those kittens up properly. With water and Savalon and disinfectant. And then examine our clothes for traces of cat poop and soak them in disinfectant too.

My nerves were frazzled by the time we were done. All I wanted was a stiff drink to put me out of my misery (and I’m not much of a drinker. And no ma, I didn’t drink!). With a half-crazed look in my eyes I turned to the husband and said, “Thank God we don’t have or want kids! Or this would be our life. Four, five, maybe even more times a day. And then, within a month, I would have to be admitted to a mental hospital!”

Iz eatz yurz earz, ok?

Ai eatz yur earz, ok?

I want to erase that trip from my mind like a bad memory. Like something that never happened. And when I see them sleeping so cutely, I can almost forgive them for that nightmare. Almost.

Wez innocent little furballz. Our humanz be spoiling our namez. We no do neything they sayz we do

Wez innocent lil furballz. Ah hoominz be spoilin ah namez. We no do neything dey sez we do. Promise.

Summer, oh, how I hate you summer!

I hate despise detest hate really really hate don’t like summer – never have, never will. At least as long as I live in Delhi and have to endure 45 degrees of heat with gusts of hot wind thrown in for free.

But as much as I may hate summer, there are barely any a few moments I’d can stand like to revisit.

Like a friend’s impulsive decision to gift herself a puppy on her birthday, which falls in April, right at the beginning of summer, before the fear of being roasted alive in the heat becomes a reality. That impulsive decision led to an impromptu lunch plan that allowed me to meet her adorable golden retriever as a pup before he became big and huge and all dog-ey. I’m not a huge dog fan, as I suppose you can guess. Pups though, I love.


As the mercury rose and it became impossible to even stick my hand out on the balcony (don’t ask me why I would want to that, I’m sure I won’t have an answer!), I spent all my weekends laid up in bed or curled up on the sofa with the air conditioning on, reading like there was an imminent ban on books. I must have read about 25 books between April and July, and then I wonder how come I have nothing to blog about except book reviews and, let’s see, even more book reviews!


The other thing I really like about summer is ice cream. There’s nothing like a large scoop of the delectably creamy, cold, sweet, flavorful stuff to cool you from the inside-out on a hot, sticky summer night.

And when the heat became too much to bear, this year, I switched loyalties to roasted corn on the cob. Why, you ask? Because a friend told me that she was eating one every day hoping to please the Rain Gods. What’s the connection? Damned if I know! If eating an ice cream everyday would make it rain, I’d do that too, and to hell with my waist line!
(Note: it doesn’t work – monsoon didn’t start in earnest until last week, and we’ve been stuffing our faces with corn since about a month.)
roasted_corn_on_the_cob (bhutta)

When all else fails, I just hightail it out of Delhi. Last year, I took off to New York, and I fell truly, madly, deeply in love with this vibrant, energetic, crazy city.


This year…

I evidently went nowhere. Which is what leads to a totally snarky, bitchy blog post.

Enough said!

Linking up, yet again, with:

Mama’s Losin’ It

The perfect vacation home

I love traveling…discovering new cities, cultures, people, architecture… sometimes I  think travel is in my blood. I also love the thought of escaping to a cottage nestled in the heart of nature. So when it comes to a vacation home, there are two very different kinds of homes that set my pulse racing.

The first is a cottage by a lake. Imagine an arched gate covered with bougainvillea, a cobble stone path leading to a cottage that looks like it’s straight out of a fairy tale. Surrounded by trees and bursting with flowers, with a river (or even a lake) flowing nearby. A place where you can sit and listen to the chirping of the birds, the chirruping of insects and the tinkle of water. Where you can escape the hectic pace of modern life.


The rooms are airy, with huge french windows opening out to scenic natural beauty, with a lot of natural light that allows me to set up an easel in any room and paint whenever and wherever I like. A warm and inviting living area, filled with fresh flowers, with soft music wafting through the house. A shabby chic kitchen, one that invites friends in to sit down and have a hot mug of coffee over spirited conversations. What bliss!


My second vacation home is one on wheels – a gypsy caravan! {It shouldn’t come as much of a surprise, considering that my online avatar is Modern Gypsy! ;)} Just look at these beauties – don’t you wish you had one of your own? If I had a house with a garden, I would definitely get one of these built in my back yard. But alas, I live in an apartment complex, and all I have is a balcony.


The charm of a caravan, of course, is that I could hitch it to the back of a station wagon and just hit the road when fancy strikes. No hotel reservations required! Being a gypsy caravan, the interiors wouldn’t be soothing and serene – they’d be colorful and eclectic, bright and completely over-the-top. Like this:


With a place like that to call your own, do you really need a fancy-shmancy hotel room? I think not!

But alas, these shall remain just dreams. India has no camping grounds, no concept of RVs, unless you want to go out into the jungle – and who knows just how safe that might be? Even a vacation cottage isn’t something that I see myself buying, because when it comes to vacations, I’d rather take the road less traveled.

But then you know what they say…you should never censor your dreams…

So, what’s your dream vacation home like?

Linking up with:

Mama’s Losin’ It