My Hope For Gamora

And if you don’t love me now
You will never love me again
I can still hear you saying
You would never break the chain (Never break the chain)
– The Chain by Fleetwood Mac  (Remastered 2004)

Over the past few days I watched both parts of Guardians of The Galaxy, Vol. 1 & 2 I grew a deep fondness for the character of the mad titan Thanos’s adopted daughter Gamora.

Gamora’s backstory is that Thanos abducted her and destroyed her whole planet. He killed her family in front of her very own eyes and tortured her as a child- transforming her into a war machine.

She has never had any friends and has been surrounded by enemies her whole life. When she gets rescued from prison and joins the StarLord and his crew, she finally finds people she can call her own. She learns to sway and dance to beats as she is enchanted by the StarLord’s “pelvic sorcery”. She finds respite with these companions and finds a safe place she calls home.

*I fooled around and fell in love*
Plays music softly

I understand that she must’ve had a very difficult childhood. Even though she was terrified of Thanos and yearned to get away from him, she was forced to love him and care for him, call him Father, and do his bidding as well. The same person who loved her the most also was the most terrifying person in this galaxy.  As children, she was pit against her own sibling, Nebula, with whom she was expected to win every fight in order to save her own life. She lived in a constant state of terror and fear for her life that deprived her of the simple things in childhood.

When she sways with the StarLord, he is surprised to learn that she could dance. But she could dance all along. She probably just needed some help setting her heart free.

Her passion for stopping Ronan in the first movie, and Thanos later on, is completely understandable. She saw her whole planet destroyed in front of her own eyes and was a little girl then who couldn’t do anything. But now, she’s not that little helpless girl anymore and wants to stop Thanos from destroying the entire galaxy.
Maybe along the way, she could probably save herself and the little girl inside of her that was so terrified of him.

It’s also interesting to see how complicated her relationships or lack thereof have been because of Thanos’s tyranny. She seemed to have always had a very difficult relationship with her sibling Nebula. This is because of Thanos’s constant comparisons between Nebula and Gamora, him belittling of Nebula every time he called Gamora his favorite daughter as he pits them against each other. Every time Nebula lost, he’d replace a body part with a piece of machinery as punishment. And she lost every time. imagine what he must’ve done to her.  It’s certainly inhuman, but so is Thanos. Nebula and Gamora also called each other ‘sister’ but always in a sneering way, as if hating the bond that was enforced upon them. But of course, it begins to seem like they don’t actually hate each other as they watch out for each other just enough to not kill each other, which shows that under this cold-blooded sibling rivalry both of them are just two girls who were tortured by the likes of Thanos, and did not get a chance to be there for each other as most siblings do.

I think that Gamora’s relationship with the StarLord and the rest of the crew could heal her broken past a little bit. Like he had said in the 1st movie: They are all losers- people who have lost a lot in their own lives. But they found each other, and have been a family ever since. They certainly make a great team and complement each other. As for the favorite couple’s brewing romance, StarLord and Gamora do make an adorable fit. He is kind and sweet and gentle and loves her unconditionally. He had the chance to be a celestial god but gave it up to save the rest of humanity. He has many desirable traits of an honorable leader and a doting lover, he seems to choose to side with empathy instead of giving in to the more brutal ways of kingship like Thanos did.

As their lives go on, I think Gamora is now in good hands.

Here’s hoping they carry on with their marvelous adventures, now that Thanos is dead.

*Phew!*
I’m a Che-Che-Che-Cherry Bomb! (Like the song)

What Is Your American Dream? (The Immigrant Perspective)

In 1931, historian James Adams first publicly defined the American Dream. Adams’ often-repeated quote is, “The American Dream is that dream of a land in which life should be better and richer and fuller for everyone, with opportunity for each according to ability or achievement. It is not a dream of motor cars and high wages merely, but a dream of social order in which each man and each woman shall be able to attain to the fullest stature of which they are innately capable, and be recognized by others for what they are, regardless of the fortuitous circumstances of birth or position.”

I think that’s a truly wonderful philosophy, honestly.

But I think we, the immigrant kids, really need to sit down and think about what that means to us. Today is a day and age of opportunity and mass immigration. I understand that these ideas of happiness may not be seen as holistically as they were initially intended to be. Every individual defines their own idea of happiness. I can imagine that for some people happiness may equate to a better home environment. It may mean better mental and physical health. It may mean loving and fulfilling relationships. And an opportunity to grow as an individual, both professionally and personally. I know that I look at happiness that way. For many others, it may include expanding their economic equity. Being at the forefront of business management in the financial district. Being involved in policymaking and the ability to drive socio-economic change, yada-yada.
The list continues.

It is hard to imagine a place that offers you the opportunity to practice these things. It’s hard to find your place in the country today. With real-life restrictions such as visa status, overpopulation, mass immigration, and racial discrimination. I think some of the retaliation is justified. It’s a little eerie to watch the flawed expectations people keep while moving to a country with said opportunities. For many, they don’t feel heard in their home countries. Their living situations are direr. There is a lack of social freedom and self-care. And they taste opportunity and compassion when they move here. I don’t deny any of that. But in the process, people build a distorted lens with which they view this country and their own home town.

But is money and opportunity all we’re looking for? What about the freedom to love anybody we want? The freedom to choose to spend our lives with people who come from different walks of life? Freedom to be Queer and still be here. To find support in battles towards mental health, and destigmatization of it. Freedom to choose a better education system? Or to find passion in work and work in your passions? I know it’s all big talk, but is it though? These concerns are real right? And I refuse to apologize for demanding open-mindedness and acceptance. Because that’s what it’s all about. And that doesn’t have to be the Indian dream or the American dream, or even the Brazilian Dream for all I care. All of us need a voice, and everyone deserves acceptance. As long as that’s out in the open, it doesn’t matter how many extra dollars you make. You’ll be happy for a little bit, but at the end of the day life is about the little things isn’t it?

I have family in Satkhol, a town near Nainital which is pretty low key. Their cheese is locally produced and bread freshly baked. They also harvest rainwater their own. None of that knorr cheese and bisleri bottle nonsense. And they’re urban city upper management folks who decided to ditch the city life and move away. Does that scare you? Well, maybe you need to rethink your lifestyle a little bit. Every day I spend with them, I’m the happiest. Even without the materialistic. We manage to grill fantastic chicken, drink fine wine. We read books, cuddle up, watch movies or listen to songs and laugh like there’s no tomorrow. The ice-cold clean Himalayan air rushing down my lungs is one of the most rejuvenating feelings I’ve had in life. It feels like someone’s turned a bucket of cold water over my head and I can think again. Reprioritize.

So, I’d like to ask you, Dear Reader:

Do you REALLY need all that money and stature to do well? Is it worth pushing your selves for 60 hours a week till you burn out so that you can invest in a house a couple of years down the line and put photos on Instagram? How long do you think your neighbors would stay jealous? A week?  A month? A year at max I bet!

Is it worth it though to sell yourself like a slave so that you can buy a life that other people think is worth living?

What I’m trying to say is, DON’T GET DISTRACTED BY ALL THE SHINY THINGS.

All that glitters is not gold. 

Sure. Clearly.

As we move into this phase of young adulthood, we’re not in that space anymore where we constantly need external validation. We don’t need to woo the hottest girl in the batch to make our peers jealous. Similarly, we don’t need to buy the richest house or the most expensive car to prove anything to mom and dad or uncles and aunties. Our lives are our own, and we should be the leads in our own stories. Don’t let somebody else’s priorities define your ideals. You’d only lose yourself in the process.

So dear immigrant kids, before you make your next big career move and run over to the US or anywhere else, I’d strongly urge you to think about what you’re running towards and what you’re running away from. That’ll help you clear your mind and make a choice you’d genuinely enjoy living with. There’s always light at the end of any tunnel. Trust me, I know that.

Don’t sell yourself short.

Dream big!
Demand creativity and understanding.
Demand love.
Taste freedom.
But most important of all:
Take Control, And run after what was yours, to begin with.

The Dark Side Of Being Nice

Harry eases into his couch with a bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans after a long day of Quidditch practice. He opens his diary and starts to scribble to himself.

What does it mean to be nice and likable? Have you really thought about where these concepts of ‘good’ and ‘evil’ came from? “We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on” Sirius Black, told Harry once. But what does that mean really… Umbridge never thought he was any good. The Dursleys never thought he was any good. Cho probably didn’t think too much about him either. He was always too skinny, too peaky, too demanding. It can be very limiting to belong to these labels and be expected to live up to them every now time. It can make people feel very caged inside. Dykstra_20160228_5514-2

Has anybody ever thought about the dark side of being nice though? Cause nice people also lie. They tell you things about you that aren’t true because they don’t want to hurt your feelings.  They don’t say things to you that they should because they don’t want to rock the boat. Many of their actions are guided by their self-interest.  By that, I mean that their niceness has more to do with what others think about them – primarily their concern that other people like them. Not very nice though, is it? I myself have been guilty on many occasions of being nice to avoid conflict.

Let’s think long and hard here for a little while… Would you really want to be nice and miss out on the chance to have a more fulfilling experience of life? Would you really want the course of your life to be defined by other people because you were too sweet to say no to them? Would you really want to experience resentment in your relationships because you’re exhausted people-pleasing and now you have no energy left for yourself? Would you really want to forfeit your own uniqueness because you want to conform to set images, and in the process feel like you’re losing yourself?

If that’s the case then hell yes, I’m not nice! No way.

Very recently, I’ve felt my good girl mask slowly chip away. I’ve found myself saying no to people more often, setting boundaries for myself, and being a lot more respectful of my own time and energy. I was nice, but I want to be good. I want to be strong. I want to be kind and empathetic. I want to work towards my relationships and see myself grow. I want to handle fights, pain, and uncertainty instead of avoiding them. 2465f7bbde456ed134e1e5dc244aa0abI want to feel like an equal in the relationship and have my emotional needs met. And I’m starting too. It’s like tasting a flavor of ice cream you never knew existed. Like standing in your balcony, during the drizzling rain. There’s so much relief in being seen, heard, understood and loved. “It’s okay to feel sad. It’s okay to not want to listen to other people talking about themselves. It’s okay to not be there for someone if you can’t”. The first time I heard my therapist say things like that to me, I was quite spellbound. “But… nobody told me it was okay to cry or look sad… Mom and Dad would get sadder if I was sad. And then I felt like I shouldn’t be sad… So I’d just hop around and play instead” I whispered. She inhaled sharply and we both looked at each other with this fondness we’ve had.

“Good is hard,” Clark Kent said. That’s because being good means facing the harsh reality of things. It means standing up for yourself. It means sitting through difficult conversations and working towards forging stronger relationships. Being good takes strength and courage. Good people don’t say nice things for the sake of it- they mean it. They appreciate the positives in people but do not hesitate to point out the negatives. They work towards building a successful like for themselves. They assert boundaries for themselves and choose to be in healthier and more equal relationships. This involves being honest with their peers and dealing with problems head-on.

Loving yourself. Caring for yourself. Understanding yourself. These are the most underrated teachings that we’ve all had in life. People with deeper relationships have known what they need from their loved ones and have not shied away from asking for it. But the rest of us who are learning as we grow, do need to consistently invest in ourselves. It can be immensely fulfilling to be in strong, healthy relationships. People love to make others feel deeply loved. They love to make others feel cared for. They love to understand each other and support each other. As a community, that’s how we exist. And promoting healthier relationships is our moral prerogative.

Which is why, it’s OKAY to not be nice, and choose to be good instead.
It’s okay to be strong.
It’s okay to let yourself feel those uncomfortable feelings.
It’s okay to be vulnerable.
It’s okay to desire love and care.
You’re feelings don’t make you weaker.
They make you stronger instead.

kindranikole3

When Slippy, The Toilet, Fell Ill 😓

This story about Slippy, our favourite member in the house and our toilet, who recently fell very ill. In leu of his unstable health, we pray that our dearest feels better soon as without him we’d feel emotionally and physically impaired.

Recently, in our quaint lovely home, we had a toilet fiasco. For the sake of not scaring ourselves, let’s call our toilet slippy and imagine as a person. It had been a few days that Slippy was not feeling well. His stomach would growl. He’d feel pukish as if he ate something that didn’t suit him well. He’d cough and spew and choke up every now and then. At first, the choking happened only once a month, and we’d have to call his friend- Sam, the plunger, to help him out. But then, the choking started happening every other day. It was a menace! And soon, Sam wasn’t of much help.

As I reminisce the good old Slippy-functional days, I begin to understand that living in a house with four women, took a toll on him. He was, of course, kept quite busy with our whims and cries throughout the day. He was our favorite person to hang out with. Some of us would sing to him in the shower, while others would use him to help with the Instagram scrolling- if you know what I mean. But soon Slippy started acting out as if retaliating to these multiple relationships. He was a loner all these years, was much over thirty, and would act real temperamental when it came to new people and company.

To help Slippy, we called our landlord, Walter, who is quite a hysteric chap. Walter has the rambles of an old man that’s part deaf and agitated. He’d repeat the same thing a hundred times and ask us over our conversation sick dead bodies if we were still listening. I’ve developed partial hearing because of him. Despite all the bickering, he’s still our main man tho. Upon our repeated summons, Walter would drop by with his ‘mega plunger’ as he called it, to fix poor slippy’s mess. “I take care of youz guys!” he’d say and we nod along in grumpy agreement. We just really wanted him to help us deal with Slippy’s mess. It’s not slippy’s FAULT that he keeps unwell. But just like his owner, slippy is old, fragile and hot-headed. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“You’re clogging Slippy up!!”, Walter said. “You’z girls probably don’t take care of him! Y’all must be overloading him, not washing him properly and not maintainin’ him! That’s what the problemz is!” he bellows. “That’s not true Walter” we try to retaliate “we take care of him”. “It’s NOT us!!” Shouts one of my roomies, as she goes rogue and tries to handle things her way. “Maybe there’s something wrong with the pipes!! This house is old and dingy and doesn’t work properly anyway!!” she yells and tries to throw blame.  Walter breathes slowly and says: “You know you’re supposed to maintain him. Keep him clean. And not overload him, or he’d break down.” We cringed at the thought of a mass meltdown in the house. “You know we take care of him Walter… he’s just old now. The taking care doesn’t help. He’s choking up irrespective! And honestly, I’m a lot more worried that he might just vomit🤮” I told him, assuring him that IF slippy vomited, It was certain that I would either jump outta the window or faint.

Walter leans against the door looking slightly defeated.

“You know what I’m gonna do for you, Suze?” He says animatedly flinging Sam. She sprayed water on the floor and we yelped disgustedly (He calls me Suze cause he can’t pronounce my name). “You know what I’m gonna do for you?” He chimes in again. “I’m gonna put a brand new toilet in there for you. Just for you! Cause I don’t want you inconvenienced. You see? I take care of youz girls!” He says.  I smile sheepishly and say: “No ones’ ever done that for me, Walter! :’)” He bursts out laughing. “You’re smart girl Suzie!” He pats me on the back and gets ready to leave. “I told ya! Call me if there’s any problem, no problem. I take care of youz girls, you’ll see!”.

We all nod in agreement at the thought of a new Slippy.

We’ll miss him, but it’s for the greater good that he gets replaced.

R.I.P

He was a good man and a faithful friend. It’s time he moved on to the nether realm.

*To emotional health and better toilet management*

 

 

My Take On The EndGame

With the Avengers Endgame smashing movie records, its fans are overwhelmed by the awesomeness of it all. Amidst my adoration for characters and my feelings of gloom around the end of an era, I can’t help but feel a little disappointed. The word ‘too much’ keeps coming to mind. Too much death. Too much sadness. Too much loss of hope. To the extent that things felt a little disproportional to me. Now, I know that half the population was wiped out and everything, but then again- all of us know the stakes of an intergalactic invasion! I think the end game did a good job of portraying how humane our superheroes were and depicting their journies through this trying time, but I still felt that all the characters were not used justly and believe that things could’ve have been a little different.

I was completely onboard with Iron Man’s portrayal in the movie. His avatar was timid and protective of himself, a side of him we had never seen before. He is weak, and scared post journey with Nebula and wants to stay with the love, warmth, and comfort of his family. But of course, he is conflicted between his love for his family and the safety of his people who he has sworn to protect. It’s quite a painful ordeal, really to go through. Hence he is brittle, which is quite unusual for him but under the vulnerability of being human, he is still Iron Man. And like Potts says, nothing’s ever really stopped him from caring for his people. So he should get out there and do what he does best- kick ass! Barton’s journey was also quite relatable. He is a world-class trained assassin who lost his whole family – everything he loved that kept him human. There is no way that that story ends well. Anyone in his place would lose their balance and turn into a world-class assassin that they once were. It’s the most natural response to grief: plunge into your darkest bits because the pain is so much, it feels like they’re no overcoming it. Even after that, he had a soft corner for Black Widow. That again, just shows that he’s mourning the loss of his family. And this is just his way to mourn.

I understand Dr. Strange now. And his loss in the last movie does not hurt so much. He did what he thought was best- by giving the infinity stone he played at the chance of winning by pushing everyone to the end game. But, in my opinion, Thor and Hulk were definitely the most underused and under-treated characters in the whole movie. I understand that his spirit was broken, and fat Thor did not repel me because he was fat. In fact, just like everyone processes grief differently, he clearly also could not handle the defeat given how empathetic and worthy he is. He is at his lowest of lows, and that, in itself speaks volumes about how broken he is. But I wish that they’d kept his personal journey shorter and his grief period less messy. Of course, when he gave up his title as leader of the Asguaryens to Valkyrie, it goes to show that he has finally chosen to stop burdening himself with the responsibility of the kingdom and has decided to move on to better things. But I still feel like his character deserved a more tasteful grieving period. Not because he’s a god, but because he’s not one. He didn’t NEED to sink into so much darkness to show the helplessness of it all. I believe in his ability to have handled it better. But I understand the storyline and am in full support to what did they did with fat thor ❤ In the end, he was still cute and invincible. His fight scenes in the war were amazing!

Hulk, on the other hand, seemed to go on a journey that did not make sense to me. It took from him, the authenticity of his volatile nature. Banner tried to accept both sides of his personality by creating a fusion of Hulk- the superhuman and banner- the human to create a Hulk-ish character that was green but not angry and did not justify the powerful impact that Hulk could make.  Again, to me, it seemed unnecessary. All the characters simultaneously did not HAVE to plunge into a really dark place. it didn’t make sense to me. Even within a group of people hit my the same tragedy, everyone doesn’t react the same way. And everyone doesn’t react to the same degree. Which is why I don’t get why it has to be a mass calamity.

Also, what got me most worked up is, I REALLY needed more of a reaction from EVERYBODY when black widow died. OMG, Scarlette deserved a few gasps and rolling tears. For all her years of jaw-dropping performance, she definitely deserved a more expressive goodbye. Not a *shrug* She’s dead, everyone’s dead, nevermind. 

The more I write, the more I realize that I have a problem with the direction and screenplay of the movie. There was so much slow-motion music and drama that it really diluted the urgency of the movie. Instead, to me, it made it a little slow and melodramatic. I wish it wasn’t though, because it kept completely different energy than the infinity war. Which does not make sense because this was the next part! Either they should not have jumped on to 5 years later, and that way they could’ve maintained the tone. Or they could’ve done 5 years later at the end of infinity war, with everybody heartbroken and then started on the slow melodramatic note that they did. At least, then the audience would be expecting the emotional rollercoaster they received.

All in all, it’s the end of an era, and it was a hell of a journey!
I loved it 3000 😘 ❤
Pinky swear!

Because You Left!

Baby, come-a back-a, come a-back, come-a back
To the lips a wanna kiss you!
Baby, come-a back-a, come a-back, come-a back
To the heart that learned to miss you!
You never shoulda gone away,
You never shoulda gone away.

– ‘Baby Come-A Back-A’ by The Chordettes.

Have any of you seen Marvelous Mrs. Maisel?

The girl can talk and cause a road rash.

I wanna be like her.
I AM like her!
Only, in my life, there’s no half-wit secretary to steal my dumbass husband away.
My Joel, or Benjamin, or whoever is too busy wiling away aimlessly on tinder, cribbing about smart sexy funny girls being non-existential while swiping on half-wits with big tits himself.

Too much trash talk? Yeah, I’m gonna detour from the classy for a little bit.

My life completely fell apart today… When my prince charming told me he wasn’t interested in seeing me anymore.

Am I angry? Hell yes! Am I sad? of course (a little bit). But most of all, I’m hell confused!

As I re-watch Mrs. Maisel and type away angrily in my pajamas, I remember each date I’ve been through. The good, the bad and the ugly. Some boys were charming, some seemed a little sleazy, but most of them looked like they had NO IDEA what they were doing. The men I’ve met seemed to have this innate drive to chase me till I’m interested or spin the cobwebs of my brain manipulatively, hoping that I’d fall for them. If only was that dumb, maybe I’d be happier! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The issue with me, of course, is that I don’t understand today’s dating culture. Not that I understand any other age’s dating culture. In what seemed like biblical times, people used to trade cattle and land and property for support and survival through relationships. Love was a transaction. An act of convenience and financial security. I’m sure it’s still the same for a lot of people. But today’s day and age of dating is absolutely absurd. All the chummy rom-com movies have filled every young adult’s mind with a distorted version of what relationships are supposed to be. ‘Happiness is not a gem tucked under a mountain somewhere, left for you to find’, I’d told a friend once, wisely. I don’t know if he still remembers it, but I certainly seemed to have forgotten my own musings. What frustrates me most though, is that after the chase is over and their ego is validated, their interest in me seems to simmer down significantly.

I have heard all kinds of excuses such as ‘you’re too much’, ‘If only I wasn’t still hung up on my ex’, ‘If only I didn’t have a girlfriend’ (I obviously didn’t have any idea about the last one until I was told so). I’ve even heard ridiculous stuff like ‘You’re charming and amazing, but I think you’re too good for me!’. What?! Just. What?? If I’m so pretty and funny and smart and sexy and everything extraordinary under the sun, then what is the fucking problem? Is that intimidating? Does it put pressure of high standards on the other person? Is it too good to be true? But clearly, I exist. I’m not a unicorn now, am I? When two strangers meet, people seem to think that they’re supposed to magically click while cupid sticks them with heart-shaped arrows and sings love songs. But nobody thinks about what this seemingly perfect precious person is going through every time they’re turned down.

Rejection may not be my fault, but it brings out in me a deep-rooted feeling of being unloved and unaccepted. I’ve always felt like the loving and adorable person I am. I truly have. But due to certain environments, I did not receive the love and affection I deserved. And that left me feeling quite hurt and alone. It sucks to feel like the one who is more expressive in a relationship. It sucks to be so passionate and empathetic and loving, that you want to be nurturing towards everyone you love in your life. And it sucks to not receive that nurturing back. Love is not easy… I understand! But does it have to be so damn hard?!

So when prince charming told me he wasn’t interested anymore, I went into a spiral of anguish and rage. Why? I did EVERYTHING right!
I looked pretty on the date.
I cracked jokes that were funny.
We talked about intimate things that were close and personal.
I empathized with his hardships while he empathized with mine.
Not to mention, he made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside!
I liked him. And I SHOWED him I liked him!
There were scriptwriters from rom-com movies gushing over the adorableness of our first date. And yet, he left…

So, I demand to know! Where would silly men like these find a spectacular girl like me?

Embarrassing Short Tell Tales

*And, oops, my heart went oops
It went into a spin of loop-di-loops
You must’ve thought me kin to nincompoops
The silly way I acted*Oops! by Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong

Cute, but annoying friend at school:
“Dudeeee… Your fly is open!”
I look down, panic, and get up to run to the bathroom
“Dude! You don’t have a fly, man! :’)”
Me: *rolls eyes*

I’m sitting and  daydreaming absentmindedly in the back seat of my Uber.
New passenger crosses the road and opens the door next to me to get into the car
Me: “hey can you please sit in the…”
New Passenger: “Holy mother of god, oooo shit!”
*slams door on my open-jawed face and rushes to the front seat next to the driver*
Me: “Dude! You just yelled ooo shit at my face! Am I THAT scary to look at?”
New Passenger refuses to acknowledge my presence and does not reply.
I continue to to throw dirty looks at him through out the ride.
A girl’s gotta maintain her reputation!

Cute, but annoying friend at school:
*Taps my ponytail to toss it and annoy me*
“Stop it!” I say.
*Taps it again*
“Stoooop”
*Again*
“DID I NOT JUST TELL YOU TO…”
“You’re looking really pretty today!”
Me: *blush. slowly melts inside*

Writing retreat ends. All paticipants make their way to their respective transports.
Our group of young bloggers comes together to exchange hugs and bid goodbye.
“Stay awesome” always quirky and ecstatic participant says.
“Stay corny,” I reply as I hug him. I turn to find everyone looking at me horrified.
“Stay horny?!” another participant whispers to me amused.
“Corny! I said CORNY!!!! @*$&”
Everyone bursts out laughing as I stomp off embarrassed.

Flash back to 8th grade when Avril Lavign was all the rage.
“Hey hey you you, I want to be your girlfriend! No way no way I know its not a secret! lalallalalala…” I strum along under my breath.
“Hey hey you you I want to be your boyfriend :p” guy friend next to me whispers.
*wink* *wink* *smile* *smile*

Got my hair colored in college and went to my uncles place.
“I don’t know what to say” he mutters.
“You can say it looks good!” I chime in.
*Shakes head and walk away slowly, leaving me confused*
*burn* :/

Writers retreat happening. Everyone is chilling around and socialising.
“You know! She’s just like my wife!” he talks about me to a participant chirpingly. “The way she giggles over the silly stuff and starts dancing around awkwardly! And she’s bubbly and sweet and…” trails off as the participant looks awkwardly at me and him.
“He’s my uncle” I explain. “He’s just very doting, is all.” I peck him on the cheek ❤

“I’m so nervous! I feel like I might spill my coffee”.
Date laughs cutely as if challenging my ability.
Mid way through the date, I knock the coffee over as I animatedly try to explain something. Date looks at me startled.
“I promised. And I delivered” I smile.

Walking to the watercooler during my break in school.
Strong wind blows and and tries to lift my skirt up so that I flash people.
I dive to contain it, freaked out and cross my legs while trying to keep my skirt down. I end up having a Marilyn Monroe moment, only mine was more awkward and less cute!
Guy friend crossing by says: “Ooooh my!!” *wink* *wink*
I shy away and slowly die inside.

One of my closest friends from college is from Kenya.
As we sit in her room to study, I roll around on her floor comfortably.
“Shruti! Look out!” She yells.
I freak out and look all around me.
There’s a slimy slithery bug crawling on a dozen feet towards me.
I stand up and scream:
“Ewwwwww! Purityyyy! Look! It’s BLACK and it’s creeeeepyyyyy”
Stone cold silence follows my exclamation.
“Shruti!” she whispers. I look at her horrified realising what I’d said.
She burtsts out laughing at my horror and walks around telling everyone the racist story we now call ‘black n creepy’ B-)

Realisation dawns on my dads face as we’re sitting across each other talking.
“Your hair is red!” he exclaims.
“I know. I got it streaked in college” I calmly explain.
He looks confused and awkward, then smiles slowly and says:
“You should’ve gotten blue! You know how much I like blue. Lookin’ good though ;)”
*Pecks me on my cheek as I blush slowly and melt inside*

I rush to my collegemate’s room to get help with my wardrobe.
I decided to change in her room as someone else was using mine.
Me: *changing awkwardly*
Friend: “Hey Shruti, I had to ask you something!”
“Yeah?!” I ask spinning around innocently.
*click* she takes a pic and yells “Ooooo so hawt!!!”
I jump on top of her and punch the crap out of her till she deletes the pic.
She’s insane but I love her ;”)