Status as on…

It’s been a rough couple of weeks at work because ever since I’ve moved to Chennai office of my firm, I have gone from being the most experienced person in the team to the girl who just transferred from Bombay post marriage. Being a newbie requires you to put that extra effort at the beginning to make that ever lasting impression (which will never change, be it good or bad) and once you get recognized, chill the fuck down and begin to slack off (a.k.a delegate).

Apart from being efficient at work and making clients happy, you also have the extra pressure to make friends and socialize with people who had a different upbringing as compared to you. I moved from Bombay, the city that has a pretty active nightlife and where girls are seen smoking outside college campuses to Chennai, a city where you are frowned upon to meet friends after 9 P.M.and travel on the bike with another single man.

Initially I used to feel guilty, so much so that I would justify doing everything that I consider non-chennaiite, right from having two pegs with my husband to going out on a Friday night with friends and getting sloshed. The key was never to post pics afterwards on Instagram with hashtag #Chennaidrunkies. I said “was” because now I’ve decided I have nothing to feel guilty about. I’m freaking married and living with my husband, not to mention a fucking adult who can go out and enjoy with friends, have crazy nights that she does not remember the day after because this is THE time. Mid twenties will never come back and there is nothing wrong about living in the moment and trying things that you will regret later about trying but trust me you will regret more if you didn’t try at all.

If you know me personally, then you know that I am an extremist. The minute I decided not to hide my social life, what do I do? Upload a pic of me drinking and looking drowsy in my office group on WhatsApp. You don’t have to do anything like that. Maintain that professionalism irrespective of the fact that you want to prove a point.

I guess that’s the status as on.

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Colors.

She entered the elevator and pressed the 3rd number from the lower right corner. The elevator slowly began its pull and in exactly 45 seconds as she had timed it ever so often in the past, she reached her destination. Before leaving, she turned around and said good night to the lift man, who was surprised by the gesture.

Being a wife #1 – Everything is new and shiny

I’m a wife now. That earlier series named – The big fat south Indian wedding preparations has finally been put to rest. Needless to say, what follows now is a new series (Being a wife) containing the endless banter of an Indian working wife and her day to day drama at home. Excited?

Amma

Many people turned up. More than she had expected. Chit chat and small talks were making the rounds. The caterers were setting up the buffet table. She took center stage.

                                     ***********************

The alarm would ring every morning at exactly 5:00 A.M. It was kinda redundant as she was always awake a few minutes earlier. She would get out of bed and go straight to the kitchen. Her morning rituals were pretty standard and consistent.

My story.

I know, I’ve not been regular with my blog posts lately, but there is a valid reason for that and since it’s the era of short and sweet, I’ve got three words for you – I’m in love. Being a cynical person in general and having years of experience mocking everything under the sun, I’ve grown to realize that loving someone has an inverse reaction to sarcasm. Hence the lack of posts!! Apologies.

The big fat south Indian wedding (un)preparations – Part 2

Published earlier on 13/12/2014 – Went to draft by mistake.

Taking off from Part 1, where the astrologer has given his approval to take the proceedings further, in this post let’s talk about the actual big fat south Indian wedding (un)preparations.

An affair to remember…

When will parents be thrilled at the idea of inter-caste marriage to the extent of bragging about it to their relatives?

Until my children?

Okay!

I’m not going to go into the history of the Indian caste system and tell you how thousands of people everyday are on the receiving end of unfathomable bias, because don’t you prefer a 1.5 hours Hollywood movie over a 3.5 hours Bollywood movie. I do!

Virtual reality

You may have seen horror movies before, where a 5 year old kid has this make believe friend that he (why did I write he?) interacts with. I never had such make believe friends but I did make up for that (sort of) later with the help of a little something called technology.

2014 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 2,500 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it would take about 42 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Pro-Tip #3 – The Art of Texting and Interpreting

For someone like me who avoids social encounters as much as possible, texting is the only outlet that I allow myself to use mostly because both the participants have the option to leave the conversation without scratching each other’s eyes out. I had written a post earlier named ‘Call me maybe‘ where I rant about how annoying WhatsApp is and how it needs to be destroyed for the well being of our future generation. Well, in this post, I’m going to teach you the art of texting and interpreting, in case you didn’t take my advice and continue to ruin all your relationships. Consider this to be a part of a pro-tip series that I have decided to officially start (and unofficially already started) where I basically tell you how to live your life. You’re welcome.