The Sadism of Inanimate Objects


The Truant Towel: 10 degrees on a cold winter morning in an unheated house. You bathe under wonderfully hot water and then stretch out your hand to reach for the towel and find that somewhere in the middle of your hot shower it had sneaked off to chat with its girlfriends. You step out of the shower shivering and tiptoe naked around looking for the damn thing to find it draped over a chair in your bedroom sniggering at the goosebumps on your naked thighs.

The Callous Car key:  You are rushing pillar to post with a never ending list of errands and finally come to the end of a nightmarish day – running back to your car to finally head home – already hallucinating about a glass of wine only to find that after 7 minutes of rummaging through your bag – NO CAR KEYS. After 13 min of frantic searching inside the building you just exited – you find it – comfortably letting it all hang out INSIDE the car. I swear – one time – the damn thing raised its keychain and waved at me from inside the car.

The Petulant Pen: The pen that will keep appearing within arms reach every single time you move your gaze around but go scuttling and hide under a chair the moment you get an important call and have to take down an important message involving a series of numbers which you will not remember otherwise. Oh and sometimes – you do find it right by your right hand when you need it – except this time – it will be constipated and it won’t write.

The Homicidal Heel : The heel of your favorite pair of shoes which will let you parade all about the house when you try it on with multiple outfits without so much as a squeak and then make a break for it in a wedding reception when you decide to make a spectacle of yourself in the middle of a dance floor.

The Flatulent Flat Tyre: The one that will hold all its gas until you are in the middle of the wilderness and then let it all out in one massive odorless fart leaving you stranded on a dark deserted street and a mobile phone with no reception.  So now you are hobbling down NH76  like a one legged pirate flagging down lifts because not only you have a flat – you also locked yourself out of your own stupid car.

The Mobile Manure: When you park carefully by the side of the road and then step out right into freshly baked cow dung which you could swear wasn’t there 1 sec ago. And it will be open sandals. Always. Open. Sandals.

Sometimes they all conspire together. The heel and the key and the tyre. They hold meetings in the dead of the night. Like they are part of a resistance movement. They wait for you to settle into bed with a good book on a hot summer night and then go trip the circuit so that they can plot their next move in peace.

And that is when the most vicious object of them all – strikes.

Under cover of darkness – the corner of the bed tends to grow in the manner of Pinocchio’s nose. And on cue I will get up to check on that tripped circuit and my shin – oh my shin – will contact that effing edge of the bed – and I kid you not – I can hear the bed guffaw – the keys yell ‘bullseye’ while the towel and the pen hi five each other.

It is a cruel world out there.




370b303e1460d2691d353ec28f613396.jpgSo apparently just like you are asked to rate your Ola/Uber drivers..they are expected to rate you too.

The desire to be liked is so strong that I found myself shamelessly peering over my driver’s shoulder to see what rating had he given me and I must admit feeling very relieved to have gotten a five star rating. He probably gave that to everybody but the whole episode got me thinking – How many people are rating me ?

My grocer? My gardner? My hairstylist?

What do they write in the additional comments ?

Talks too little.

Does not receive phone calls.

Does not dress Indian enough.

Loves Methi (Fenugreek). Hates Pumpkin.

 Gets too impatient when late.

Wrinkles up her nose if the cab smells stale.

(Actually I also look closely at the cushioning – ONCE I FOUND BLOOD STAINS  which got my head caught up in a tornado imagining dead rotting bodies in the boot and what not)

Anyway I digress.

I imagine all the star ratings and comments going into a giant database that tells you a little something about a billion people.

In the future you could look for partners like you look for hotels. Log in to (I checked – the domain name is available) and type in your requirement. Add the number of minimum stars four or five. Select criteria like patience. Generosity. Loves kissing in the backseat of a car. And press search.

And you have your perfect match.

Not choosing people solely on their profile pictures and their self commentary but actual ratings by actual people that they deal with every day of their lives.

You could choose someone based on your mutual love for cinema hall popcorn or karela as reported by the vegetable vendor on the app. Or computer games as reported by the techie guy.

If someone is good to the taxi driver I bet there is a high likelihood of him being an overall nice person.

I know one thing though. I am not letting my auxiliary staff get onto that app whenever that is made. I’d be in negative within three minutes.

On the bright side  – everyone would try to be their brightest sweetest best everywhere they go in the hope of a good rating.

Love Shove


Everyone is in love on Facebook. Everyone. No kidding.

In fact – if you are in a bad, boring relationship – Mark Zuckerberg sends you a copy of ‘Relationship for Dummies’ with a note – ” Pull up your socks. Study and reappear for eligibility test. “

After you have surfed through the book and obtain a temporary membership of the ‘I am in LOve forever and ever and ever after ‘ Club – your actual initiation begins.

You will suddenly feel compelled to post pictures of red balloons and bouquets of roses and say things like “To the love of my life…Happy 26th minute anniversary” (Just for the sake of clarity – Not talking about the good kind of 26 minutes)

Thank you for being with me in all the good times and bad.. I look back to 19 days ago when we first held hands and since then our love has only grown stronger conquering all odds. ” Here is where we all tear up.

I love you XYZ… Miss you soooooo much sweetie pie… (Even though you are sleeping right beside me even as I type this on Facebook) I hope we continue to be this much in love forever ( Pause to dig sweetie pie in the ribs – Stop snoring stupid. I can barely hear myself think as I write this note of undying love to you) #loveisforever#jglfkdajglj#iloveyou#l;skflsk;f#dljfkldgkl#becausehashtagsarecool #becauseeveryonedoesit #becauseifinallylocateditonmykeyboard

I am telling you – relationship counsellors be warned. Facebook is putting you out of business. It takes bad couples and ordinary couples and good couples and perfect couples and stupid couples and abusive couples and irritating couples and any and every kind couple – and puts them in a big room painted with hearts,feeds them ruby red strawberries, makes them read chetan bhagatesque romance novels and paints them with Facebook Viagra for Love.

Then everyone exits the room and heads straight for the computer and logs in on Facebook and declares eternal undying love. Sometimes twice in the same day.

And God forbid that despite the constant tutoring by Facebook – you turn out to be a bad student and realize that your relationship is less than perfect and that 1-2 minutes of togetherness is nothing to shout out about from rooftops then you have condemned yourself to a lifetime of watching other people’s photographs and status updates complete with ‘feeling loved emoticons’ and pursing your lips with envy.

Of course plan B would be to spend all your time telling people every detail of every day. That’s always so entertaining. And also it shows that even though you are not in a perfect perfect Brangelina relationship – you have a rocking life.  Eating Anda Poha at the station… yehhhhhh #F$£k#jbkfdhjglkadjkhg

Hopefully you never have to resort to Plan B.

So straight after the morning cup of tea you log in and then look at your husband with irritation and say – See Mr and Mrs Cant-keep-their-hands-off-each-other – why can’t you be more like him? They are so in love even after 365 days.

And he will say nothing and just to annoy the hell out of you will go click ‘like’ on that picture.


Damn him. Forget it.

Let me go bake a heart shaped gooey chocolate cake so that I can click a Selfie with it and post it with the caption “On Valentine’s for my Shona…”(Because your cholesterol is only 10000 and his blood glucose level is only a million and a chocolate cake is definitely the best way to ensure I love you forever – because forever ain’t going to last long at this rate)

P.S.  Don’t get me wrong. This post is not intended to hurt the sentiments of anyone. And – I am all for love. In all its forms. This is just in jest. Please go ahead and ooze sappiness. It intrigues me no end.

Where to keep my Books?

Finally I took the plunge today.

Ordered a Kindle. 

I feel like I betrayed someone or something. 

After years of turning pages and holding books up to my nose to take in the new book/old book/ in between new and old book smell – I feel like a traitor. 


But there is no other way. There is just not enough storage space. I have toyed with the idea for over a year and finally the day is upon me. 

In my defense though I did consider and rule out all of the following options below one by one:

1. Buy a new place exclusively to house my books. But the whole going back and forth to read business kind of made me cancel the idea. Oh and the fact that I couldn’t afford a new house. 

2. Throw away unimportant things like food/clothing and keep books instead. If I am very hungry I could look at my recipe books and sigh. I did buy them for that purpose alone. To look at and drool. However that does not leave me with enough space so no use anyway. 

3. Make all my family members shift into the kitchen so that the rest of the house could be used for book storage. I have realized over time that people occupy less space than books. Also people can be folded and pushed into a corner without much damage. Books on the other hand… There is no way I am folding pages – so forget it. But after facing stiff resistance from the other members of the household I had to fold. No pun intended. They just don’t understand the need of the hour. 

4. I considered asking all my friends for corners of their homes to store books. But dropped the idea again (refer to point 1) That and the fact that I don’t trust my friends. They are quite likely to squirrel out the books to some unknown location and they could be lost to me forever. Stolen books are so much more fun to read.  

5. Sell/Give away the books I am done reading. Let me tell you a story. My mom once long ago gave away a carton of old comics/books thinking I am done reading them. Till this day I spend long hours tracing and buying them back over the internet stores for 4 times what they cost then. I still haven’t traced the old World war II comics covering the resistance and I still grumble about it to her whenever I go home.

6. Stop buying more books……………………………………………………. hahahahahhahahhah. I know. I know. Stupid Idea.  I must have been high on book binding glue. 

So after these and several other impractical ideas like living in the balcony/buying crossword itself and converting it to a home cum library/ – I realized that I cannot hold out any more. 

If I have to read – and read books that I own ( What was that? Join a library? Tsk Tsk……no self respecting reader ever relies on the local library)  – there is just no other way. 

So like I said before I finally bought it. 

It hasn’t arrived yet. And for the next 30 min after I ordered it online – I toyed with the idea of canceling the order. 


But I haven’t and I shall stick with it. Worst case scenario-  if I hate it – I shall only download one book on it and pretend the whole thing is just one hard cover SCI FI book and store it on the shelf between Cosmos and Freakonomics in the spice cupboard in the kitchen where the rest of the family is drugged and sleeping while I sell body parts one by one to pay for the new house and of course new books. 




We all have that one great love of our life! The one person that makes us look starry eyed and goofy. With whom our days begin and nights end. And with whom all that Yash Chopra movie nonsense seems relevant.
And yet – is life all about that ONE love? Your soulmate ? I think – probably not. 
I’d say that it probably is one fixed point around which lives may revolve but there is more. 
Life is interesting because of what I like to call – MINI-LOVES
Mini-loves could be anything. It may include a mouth watering dollop of ‘tender coconut’ ice-cream on a warm sunny day. A handsome stranger at the local supermarket who smiles at you. An hour of trying out clothes in front of those flattering changing room mirrors in malls. A funky new gadget. A hot cuppa with a friend. A friend of a friend who compliments you at a party. An episode of ‘Breaking Bad’ or ‘Desperate housewives’. 
When mini-loves disappear or die – they don’t leave a hole in your life. They don’t send you to the black abysses of depression. You may miss them a bit – or not at all. But they don’t alter you. While they exist – they color you, change you, fulfill you, entertain you, rescue you. But nothing permanent. Mini-loves don’t expect anything in return. 
And thats why Mini-loves are so important. 
The love of your life may make your world stand still in a heart-stopping-warm-fuzzy-feeling-kind-of-way. 
But the Mini-loves make the world go round. And the more mini-loves you have – the faster the world spins 🙂