Shahrukh swag, Dabangg and steamy farts.

Winters huh! Yeah I am not too fond of them. I mean they are okay. A bit hyped actually. The only thing I like about winters is the Shahrukh Khan feel that it gives me every morning as I walk out of the bathroom. You know what I mean, right? That feeling, down there in that picture.

Yeah I give that Shahrukh Khan entry every time I walk out of the super steamy bathroom. Yup the swag and all...

I have noticed SSM give me a weird look every time I  make that classic entry from the bathroom to the bedroom. He is probably impressed at my swag. But actually he has been giving me that look ever since I took him to watch Dabangg 3. Rather, from the time I walked out of the theatre and shouted BEST. MOVIE. EVER. A lot of people gave me the look too. I am pretty sure they were overwhelmed by the cinema as well and it was a look of mutual admiration. Well. SSM has been giving me the look since then. I guess he is unable to express his awe. But I get him.

So well, 2020 resolution is to start blogging again. And here I am. And like all resolutions this may not stick around too... but I will try. Because crazy keeps happening.

It is not my fault really that I stopped blogging. When I was doing my day job, I had the laptop open in front of me and there was no other option than to blog. Because I rarely worked. Now that I am at home I don’t see the laptop and I don't blog. So I have asked SSM to switch on the laptop every morning. Not because I am lazy but because he needs to have some fun thing to do too, besides giving me the look.

The winters this year are seriously cold. Ri, Rai and I went for a walk last evening and we were steaming from our mouth. Ri was having fun blowing air from his mouth watching it steam. He then asked me, Ma would we see steam if I fart too. I kept staring at this butts all the time we were out. I am not sure if he did fart. But I was happy with the though of steaming farts.

It is Ri’s birthday today. He turns 9. Happy birthday, love and may the year be full of steamy sparkly farts.

The photograph bunting.

I like decorating my house. More of a DIY thing really. You know, origami stuff, handmade lamps, quilted art and stuff like that… you get it right?

The newest thing I did around the house was to get some family photographs printed and clip them on a string like a bunting. I tied this photograph bunting across the living room window. Just below the fabric bunting I had made and hung some time ago. (Show off alert!) Well, this photograph bunting soon became my most favourite spot around the house. Not just mine, I think it became SSM’s favourite spot too.

These photographs were a reminder of various moments when we were at our happiest. The smiles showed. Each of them had a memory stuck to it. A memory that SSM, Ri and I visited every time we looked at them. Memories that made us smile. Memories that made us forget our present distress.

I got onto the habit of staring at them once every day. But with time, I realised that these photographs looked slightly different every time... So slight was the difference that it could well have been a fragment of my imagination. But I did feel that the smiles and the twinkles in the eye were, maybe, just maybe, minutely less on certain days that others.

And then I realised what it was… the photographs, the memories, the us in our happy past, were actually looking back at us, at our present, our todays. Yes. They, I mean us, trapped in those glossy sheets of paper were actually watching us too. Their happy smiles seemed alive on the days we were happy. On other days, when our days were not too good, our smiles in the photographs somewhere did not reach our eyes. They seemed a little faded, I thought.

It did cross my mind to mention this to SSM, but then I thought against it. I don’t know if he noticed it too, but I did see him glance at the photographs from the corner of his eyes, time to time. When we were in the midst of a conversation or when he was playing candy crush on his phone while I sat with a book.

Well, as days passed, I became totally convinced that the photographs were, well, alive. They looked like regular happy photographs to anyone else who saw them, but when you looked at them every day, you would not miss the miniscule changes in the expressions of our impressions on those photographs.

Life had definitely become stressful and we were really looking forward to a holiday we had planned as soon as Ri finishes the session at school. The stress was building up and the photographs were slowly fading.

Finally, the day for the holiday was here. We were happy and excited after a real long time. And weirdly (may be not) the photographs seems less faded today. We locked up and left the home for a week of serene bliss. And we had a wonderful time. We were happy as can be after a long, long time. It was truly a much needed break. We got back home happier and with more joyful memories.

I did not notice the photograph bunting that evening. But the next morning when we sat for our breakfast, I saw that the photographs had all curled. Really. They were curled and bent. They looked very dull too. I pointed it out to SSM who said that they had probably curled up because of the heat in the city. We agreed that we need to get fresh prints and redo the bunting sometime next weekend.

Two days have passed since then. We have been happy, laughing and basking in the thoughts of the wonderful holiday we just had. We have been having a really good time at home enjoying movies and ice creams.

Today morning was quiet. SSM left for office and Ri is busy reading Chamber of Secrets. I sat at the table and glanced at the photograph bunting. The photographs have gone all straight and stiff again. Not just that, they are not dull anymore. They are as good as new. I called SSM to check if he managed to get new prints and missed telling me. He hadn’t. I go stand in front of the bunting. The smiles are all happy and bright. There is a twinkle in our eyes in there.

Did I imagine it or did the me in that photo just wink?

I have a weird kid... But I guess that runs in the family.

Me: Hey how come they are teaching you eye parts in school already.
Ri: No they are not.
Me: So where did you learn to draw this?
Ri: Oh I saw it on your phone one day...
Me: Why? Why were you searching for parts of eyes?
Ri: (Shrugs) Just like that... For fun..
Me: For fun? FOR FUN?
Ri gave me a blank look.

I guess weird just runs in the family.

Also... Happy birthday, SSM.

Erm...!

So I am singing the Bimbo song and Ri is listening to me. For those you who do not know the Bimbo song , here is a bit of it: 

Bimbo, is a little boy
Who's got a million friends
And every time he passes by
They all invite him in
He'll clap his hands
And sing and dance
And talk his baby talk
With a hole in his pants
And his knees stick out
He's just big enough to walk

Bimbo, Bimbo
Where you going to go e oh
Bimbo, Bimbo
What you going to do e oh
Bimbo, Bimbo
Does your mommy know
That your going down the road
To see a little girly oh!

It is a lovely song. You can click on the hyperlink and listen to it too.

So I am singing the song and suddenly Ri stops me.

Ri: So, ma... This boy, Bimbo, he really like girls doesn't he?

Me: Yep he does

Ri: And he does not tell his mother that he is going to meet this girls.

Me: Uh huh...

Ri: So, ma... That is not really a great thing because he should tell his mother where he is going.

Me: That is right...

Ri: So, it is wrong behaviour.

Me: (Not sure where this is going) Yes. He should have told his mother.

Ri: Hmm... And still he has a million friends!

And yet again I am stunned!

Who loves Nutella?

The crazy munchkin.

This morning at the breakfast table, Ri was licking a spoonful of Nutella after having his pancakes.

Me: Hey, Ri, do you know who else loves Nutella the way you do.

Ri: Yup, Nehru.

SSM and I both stared at each other.

Me, again: Erm. Who?

Ri: (with all his focus on the spoon) Nehru, Ma

Now this was getting really weird. So both SSM and I stopped eating stared at him for a moment. This needed further investigation.

Me: Hey, who exactly is Nehru?

Ri:(with a big sigh) Ma, Nehru, that guy in Sholay

And this was a new level of crazy even for me.

Me: What? Sholay? What was Nehru doing in Sholay"

Ri: He was Amitabh Bachchan.

And that is when it struck me. Because weird strikes the weird.

Me: Do you mean Veeru, Ri?

Ri: Ah yes, right, Veeru"

And then SSM and I had a difficult time controlling our ROFL.

SSM: But Amitabh bachhan was Jai, His friend was Veeru.

Ri: Oh. Okay.

Me: And how do you know that Veeru likes Nutella?"

Ri: Uh, Amitabh Bachhan like Nutella.

Well, really, there was no way I was going to ask for any more explanation to that.

So well, we shall just conclude that Amitabh Bachhan loves Nutella. And, maybe, Nehru loved it too. We shall never know. :|

Sigh! The apple doesn't fall too far from the tree, right? Crazy runs in the family!

Owls can only mean one thing

SSM and I standing at the window.

SSM: Did you see those?

Me: What? Those birds?

SSM: Yeah, those white birds... You know what they were?

Me: Owls, I think.

SSM: Hmm. White owls. You know what the means, right?

Me: Yep. Some kid has turned 11 today...

SSM silent.

Why I wasn't blogging.

The image was googled

I know. I haven’t been blogging much. And that is because… okay, so it is a weird sort of a thing that happened. Let me tell you about it in detail.

I was walking around the block one evening when I came across a small diversion that I hadn’t noticed earlier. Curious, I took to the lane and it reached a wall. So a blind lane it was. I turned around to get back to my usual path but it wasn’t there. No. Seriously. It just wasn’t there. I just hit a wall again.

Well, obviously, I panicked. I started shouting for help. HELP! But my voice just echoed in the blocked lane. I frantically started looking around for something. Something. I do not know what. Anything, like stones or waste coke cans that I could throw over the wall and get help, or some explosives that could bring the wall down, or a packet of chips because I was hungry. Well anything could have helped, but there was nothing.

I sat down exasperated. I wished I had carried my mobile phone so that I could call someone, or play ‘two dot’ (My current favourite game) but iguess i just had to wait. After what seemed like hours, I finally heard a slight swishing sound. I couldn’t figure out what it was. I could only hope it wasn’t cockroaches. Katasaridaphobia. Any other creature would have been fine. Luckily, it was another creature.

I realised that the swishing wasn’t coming in from ‘my’ lane. Nope. It was somewhere far away, up in the sky. Initially, I noticed a tiny speck. But as it flew closer, I was sure, it was IT. It. Was. A. Hippogriff. Seriously! No kidding.

It landed in ‘my’ lane and before I could understand I was tossed up in the air and I landed with a thud on its back. I clung on for dear life as it flew away with me.

The flight on the hippogriff was AMAZING. It’s one experience that will stay with me forever. Anyway, we flew over oceans and mountains and lands unheard of. (Mainly because I suck at geography. I am sure, you smart guys, would have heard of them.) And we finally reached what seemed to be a castle.

And I was excited because I thought I would be expected to slay dragons and save the handsome prince, but no, that happened only in fairy tales, apparently.

So I was dropped off, literally, at the gates of the castle and then escorted by men in helmets, not bike helmets, stupid, but the Viking kind of helmets. They took me to the guy, who I guessed was the king because they all bowed down to him. I bowed down too because that seemed appropriate.

He then said in a loud booming voice, “Me, the great Gaster Nomos, the lord of the Culinary, have heard from the messengers far and wide, that you, lady, can bake the best caramel, bread pudding ever created. I. NEED. TO. TASTE. IT.”

And that was it! I was guided to the kitchen that was as large as the Kolkata maidan and I had to start baking the pudding. It was ceremonious as music played and people danced around while I was baking it. I then plated it in a gold plate to serve it to Mr. Nomos. I stood there, tensed, hungry butterflies fluttering in my stomach, as I saw him scoop a bite and place it in his mouth. The music stopped, everyone around was quiet. Even the pins refused to drop, lest they might be heard. My heart stopped beating as he closed his eyes, tasted the pudding and then swallowed it down. He then opened his eyes and laughed. A loud wealthy laugh it was. And with him everyone present started laughing too. He called me over and held me warmly in his arms. The music started… the people danced… there was happiness everywhere.

The next day was spent teaching the chefs the recipe. And the next few day I had a holiday of a lifetime in the most beautiful land ever. I was then flown back on the hippogriff. It was kind to me during our return flight. And well, here I am. Blogging again.

And yeah, I wish all of that was true and laziness was not the only reason for me not blogging. But laziness is what it was. And the damn laziness was so bad that I did not even write a birthday post yesterday. I would kick myself in the butt if I was fit enough to do so.

So well, belated birthday wishes to me. This year will see more fun posts here on my blog. Promise.

Also one thing in the story up there was true. I do make the best caramel, bread pudding in the world. :D

See you soon.

The unforgivable curse

Source: 

typographyserved.com

He walked out of the famous tea shop in Dakshinapan holding the packet of his wife's favourite tea. He thought he saw someone familiar as he walked out. He stopped and turned around. Yes, it was K. He enjoyed K's acquaintance. He liked K. K hadn't noticed him yet, but he knew K would be happy to see him. He smiled and stepped forward to call out to K. But then, then he stopped. He paused, he frowned, and then he turned and walked away.

And somewhere far away, in a city that was taken over by dementors, a dark wizard smiled. His Imperius curse had worked. He could control the lives of his followers. He could break them, he could mould their minds, he could keep them away from the ones whom they liked.

This post is not about tomatoes and bugs!

A tomato truck - amazing things from a holiday

We had a wonderful holiday last year, to Coorg. I just totally missed writing about it here till today. Because I have a bad memory and because I have been having a tough time writing. Also I have got lazier.

But I came across the photographs of the trip today and I remembered that I had meant to write about it. So here we are.

Coorg was great in a lot of ways - Our first family holiday to the southern part of the country, SSM’s first long drive to the hilly terrain… Oh and the crazy, spicy pork. Crazy because it was spicy to the extent that it could kill. Not crazy otherwise. More of a murderer. Crazy murderer.

But, two things in the trip really made the trip worth it’s worth. (Something totally crazy about that sentence too) So, I will talk of those two things specifically here.

We were taking a walk around the resort. It was huge. It was luscious. It was beautiful. It was doing to us what nature’s grandeur always does – mesmerising, rather more than that. We were enjoying the various shades of green and that is when we chanced upon this –

Snake eating snake - Awesomest thing ever!

This awesome snake was eating another snake. I mean, WOW! I think it is the most awesome thing I had ever seen. It was just brilliant to sit there and watch the snake gobble up another. I know that happens, but to see it happening is a sight that will be fondly etched to my mind forever. Ri loved watching it too. Only SSM seemed a little queasy seeing it. He is not particularly fond of snakes. So seeing a snake being eating should have made him happy. But then, he is a little weird.

I wanted to go searching for more snake eating snakes but SSM was already freaked out by the earlier snake and he dragged us to the room - which got us to this distracting sight –

The bed snake :|

Why? Why? Why? Seriously why would anyone do that towel art on our bed? What were they suggesting? So why did they have that, that towel sculpture of the tool on the bed. SSM and I stared at each other for a moment. Ri jumped on the bed and started showering the flowers all over.

Me: (in a hushed voice) I think we are giving out incorrect vibes to the resort people.

SSM: (in a hushed voice) I think you are incorrect and it is not what you think it is.

Me: (in a hushed voice) I think you are blind. It is so obvious.

SSM: (in a hushed voice) Let's just take the hint then.

Really… That was just too much snake for a day. Phew! :D

And one of my best holidays!

An extra picture of a bug because I love you guys for reading this crap.

And I need a holiday soon...!

I am not promoting Paperboat, but I love them.

Me: Hey we forgot to taste the Paperboat guava drink. Let’s try it now.

SSM: Okay

We sip it

SSM: hmmm a bit like paaka pyara (ripe guava) na, with mirchi!?

Me: It is not. It is like kacha pakka peru (Not so raw not so ripe guava) with mirchi.

SSM: It is OKAY!

Me: It is OKAY with the first sip. Gets better as you keep sipping it. Try.

SSM: Yeah, you are right. It is good.

Me: Reminds me of the pink peru we used to it when we were kids. I don’t think they grow them anymore. Sigh.

SSM: (sipping) hmmm.

Me: Hey, check this out… you can actually suck it in while keeping your head straight. You don’t have to roll your head back to take a gulp. This is so cool!

SSM: How does that matter?

Me: Of course it matters. This is like the whole things is a huge straw. It is like magic.

SSM: Sigh, it is science.

Me: Oh, Shut up. This is the awesomest thing ever. (awesomest should be a word) I mean you could be reading a book and drinking this. But you don’t have to shift your glance away to take a sip. You can just read and suck at the same time. You don’t even have to pour it in a glass and use a straw anymore.

SSM: When do you ever use a glass and a straw to drink something while reading!?

Me: I don’t, but I could. And now I don’t have to. I have to tell the Paperboat guys about my wonderful realisation about their bottles. They should totally send me free drinks for bringing out this super USP for their product.

SSM: They do that anyway, weirdo!

Me: That’s true too. Yeah. But I love the Paperboat guys. 

***

In the meanwhile, check this awesome little short film that they have come out with. :)

A normal conversation and a lesson about rules.

SSM: So, how was the flight?

Me: Oh, good. Finished reading an awesome book. I'll tell you about it.

SSM: Alright. And did you eat something good on the flight.

Me: Well, thanks to you, I had to have upma and masala tea.

SSM: Thanks to me? What do you mean, thanks to me?

Me: I asked you to web check me in on seat no 6A!

SSM: So? It wasn't available! What has that got to do anything with you eating upma.

Me: If I was on 6A I would have eaten the grilled chicken with rosemary and caramelised onion sandwich, and a manchow soup.

SSM: So that got over by the time the tray reached you?

Me: No, they still had it!

SSM: So??? Okay, I know where this is going. This is not gonna make any sense. I know it. But tell me anyway.

Me: As a rule I only have the grilled chicken with rosemary and caramelised onion sandwich, and the manchow soup when I am on 6A. Any other seat and I will eat upma and drink masala chai.

SSM: ????

Me: It is a rule. My rule. I live by that rule.

SSM: So even if you feel like not eating upma, you still will?

Me: Yes! That is what rules are for. You follow them.

SSM: Nonsense!

Me: No wonder you are so undisciplined.

SSM: I am sorry we even had this conversation. Lets stop talking for a while.

Me: Okay. But next time remember... 6A.

Pinocchio is not the same. Sigh!

This post is meant to be read only if you are above 18 years of age.

So Kiri, if you are on this post you will close it right now. Alright? Now. Close it NOW! Please, be good.

Okay. That was for my 11-year old niece who never fails to read my blogs. But she is a good girl and I am sure she would have listened and closed this one immediately.

CLOSE IT RIGHT NOW!

So here we are!

***



It is good when you are weird and you have weird friends. because that is what leads to weird conversations. Like this one.






Here is the video ---->














I deleted the link with the baby picture (obviously) but the last picture was to confess that we are not just weird, we are also horrible people who call babies ugly.

Yeah, stop judging us, people!

If you see me without nails, get hold of SSM

I will just post screenshots of a conversation here. That should be enough for you to know the kind of torture I go through.

And he refused to reply after this. He did not even react after he got home that evening.

He looked sad. I would like to think that he was upset about getting me a torture liquid. Or, maybe, he was sad that I figured out that it was a torture liquid.

Either way. I am alive because I did not use it. Ha! (Except that my toe nails are chipped orange)

A memory and a dream. Both unrelated and weird. Because I am fighting a blogger's block.

This post is just a memory flash –

Sourced from the internet.

The first ever audio cassette that I owned as a kid was Mr. India. All the other cassettes belongs to my father or my sister. And then on my 7th birthday, my sister gifted me with Mr. India. Oh, I played it in loop that day and for many more days. I sang. 'bijli ki raani main hu aayi' instead of bijli giraane mai hoon aayi' (They both make sense) and I blushed ever time 'kaante nahi katate... I love you' played because that was almost equal to porn for an innocent seven year old, born in the 80's.

Sourced from the internet. Of course

The first ever video cassette that I owned as a kid was 'Maine Pyaar Kiya'. This time, it was not a gift. I stole it from the local video library. No, I did not go one night, break the glass with a stone, enter in and rob it. That would have been cool. But I just borrowed it and never returned it. (Yeah, I have done that with library books too. Come on, everyone does that with library books.)

I was down with chicken pox as an eleven year old and the only memory that I have of the quarantine is having read Heidi and watching Maine Pyaar Kiya every single day. Every. Single. Day. (The movie. I did not read Heidi every single day. That is not possible for a slow reader like me) I mouthed every dialogue with action and expressions. Even today if ever I come across Maine Pyaar Kiya while shuffling through the television channels, I immediately stop to watch it and my lips move with the dialogues.

Maine Pyaar Kiya remains and will remain my favourite movie ever. And well, Salman… Sigh!

***

The rest of this post is a weird dream (Rarely do I remember a dream but this was so weird and sort of sweet that I could recall it clearly the next morning) -

Nick blowing happy bubbles

Remember Nick? Well, I dreamt that Ri had a fork in his hand and he shove that in Nick’s jar, piercing Nick. So Nick was dying and I see him fly out of the jar towards me. He lands on my palm and I pet him and tell him that he will live.

I put him back in the jar suddenly the room is filled with all sorts of flying fishes and Winnie the Pooh characters. The all start singing a weird song in and extremely high pitched voice. All together.

Suddenly I see Nick coming back to life, swimming. I was happy. He was happy. But then he started growing at an alarming rate. I saw him turn into a merman. A horrible looking merman-red tail and a green moustache. He couldn’t fit into jar anymore. He was struggling to stay inside. Finally the jar shattered and Nick the merman emerged out. The other fishes and characters vanished.

I ran to him and hugged him. I told him that I was so happy he was alive... but that he can’t live with me anymore because I did not have a jar big enough to accommodate him. He had to go back to the sea.

I handed a huge saucepan filled with water to Nick so that he could duck his head into it and breathe. (Yeah, I know the gills need to go in too but the ‘me’ in the dream did not think of it.)

Anyway. I then took him to the sea (to chowpatty :/) and let him go.

I then woke up sweating and fretting about the fact that Nick had always lived in 'aquaguard' water, what if the sea killed him!

***

If you are wondering why I wrote such a random post today, it is because someone told me to just write whatever comes to mind because that is the only way to fight a blogger’s block.

If you are wondering why I wrote two totally unrelated write ups, it is because I was lazy to write them in two different posts.

***

I just feel better today.

No, I am not dating a vampire.

Sourced from the internet. The picture, not the roll.

A few days ago, a colleague at work told me about this incident that happened in the metro. This happened on a weekday morning. The metro was very crowded. Suddenly one woman bit another woman's hand. And by that I mean that she bit her hard enough to leave teeth mark and some blood. True story. Seriously. I asked this colleague about why did she not click a picture. She said three things - 1. photography is not allowed in the metro. 2. The metro was super crowded. 3. I cannot remember.

But she is a nice girl so I will believe her and so should you.

This incident really shocked me. I kept wondering what could have possible caused a woman to bite another.

Anyway, with time I forgot about this incident.

Then today something happened that made me remember it again.

I am on a diet. Okay, I am lying. But I do try to be on a diet. But some edible products are a home to Satan as we know. Rolls, are one them. They just tempt you to hell.

This colleague who sits next to me had ordered a chicken roll today. He offered to share it with me and I couldn't refuse. Satan, remember?

So I split the roll in halves and took the top half for my self. Which means, I did not have the butter paper that protects the roll, protecting my half of the roll.

I took a deep breath till the aroma of the roll hit my head, closed my eyes, opened my mouth wide and sank my teeth in that hell of a roll.

When I opened my eyes, I saw people at my work place staring at me with hungry eyes. (Some might mistake that look for disgust, but I am sure it was a look of hunger and crave)

And then I noticed that the contents of the roll had spilled from the other end all over my kurta. Yes, the front of my kurta was stained with chicken and juices and oil.

I looked at the people again and this time I noticed, it was disgust written all over their face.

I rushed to the washroom and tried to wipe the stains off.

Suddenly a lady from another department walked into the washroom. She stared at me vigorously scrubbing my kurta with a wet washcloth and said, "wow you smell like, erm..." "Like roll", I completed her sentence. She smiled and said "yes". I replied, "erm, thanks. But I would really not appreciate if you bite me." She gave me a weird look and walked out of the washroom. Without peeing.

But what I said had freaked me out too. The metro incident mentioned above suddenly flashed back in my mind and I just knew why that woman had been the other woman.

After ages I was scared to enter the metro. (The last time was after watching the movie Kahani.) I was seriously worried about being bitten by the co commuters who were traveling back home after a long day at work. Hungry.

Luckily the metro was not too crowded and I managed to stand in a corner with my backpack strapped to my front to block as much of the aroma as I could.

Seriously, I smelled so good that I was surprised that I did not bite myself.

Anyway. After this I just want SSM to know that if ever he finds bite marks on me, he is not supposed to assume that I am cheating on him and dating a vampire.

No, I am not dating a vampire. I AM JUST A LOUSY EATER.

If there is any sort of romance involved, it is purely between the Bengali bhodrolok and the roll. The Satan.

I started with a haunted nose and got into a rant.

The haunted nose.

I haven’t been sleeping well because my nose is haunted. No kidding.

I had been to Hyderabad a couple of weeks ago. The guest house that I stayed in was haunted. I am sure. It was a really old house and I was given a room in the basement. The walls were damp and smelled of ghosts. I could even feel the book next to my bedside whispering at night. 

Anyway. Whoever the ghost was, has managed to possess my nose. It has been behaving really weird. My nose, not the ghost - I have noticed people use this sort of line way too much these days to make their writing humourous. It works - Hence I used it too. But it is not true because now my nose and the ghost are one and the same. So, technically, it is both. Both have been behaving weirdly these days.

The nose has been hurting ever since and I wake up every night at 2:20 am sharp. Sneezing. Every. Single. Night. So it cannot be anything else than a haunted nose.

I have tried everything to stop this weird phenomena. I started with nose drops before I sleep. Did not work. 

I tried taking nerve soothing tablets before sleeping. Okay, they are not really nerve soothing tablets. It is an anti-allergy tablet that causes my nerves to sooth and makes me drowsy. I usually take it when I feel stresses or I feel a migraine coming. Helps me to a great extent. The tablet is banned but I have managed to get a supply. (If you know my family, this information is not supposed to reach my mother. Or my sister. If you are my sister reading this, we are not going to talk about it.) And anyway, my cousin who is a doctor has convinced me repeatedly that I cannot be allergic to anti-allergy tablets. So it is safe.

I have also tried Benadryl because Benadryl gives me a high. And it is also banned. Not in the stores but in my house, due to my addiction to it. I sneak it in. Anyway, did not help.

I tried getting drunk one Saturday night so that I could sleep well. As I was getting drunk I watched a movie, I forget the name, but it was a 9PM movie on Romedy. The woman there suffers from dementia. I kept drinking and sobbing the night believing that I am going to end up with dementia when I grow old. Yet, I woke up sneezing at night and a hangover in the morning. The ghost has bloody well possessed my nose. Every night 2:20 am. Damn!

Next morning due to the hangover I need a good hot shower and I pleaded SSM and Ri to not disturb me for atleast five minutes as I walked into the bathroom. No. they came knocking at the door in exactly two minutes. When they knocked, I was listening to 'Country Roads Take Me Home...' (I do listen to music in a bath. Yes.) And then I just wanted to run away from them. Like, just flee off. To some remote village. Live on my own.

And then something happened -  I have always had this wish to live on a village side house some day. Alone. A nice little cottage with a lovely backyard. But this time, this moment I was scared. I thought about the dementia and how would I live with it alone. And then I got wondering about how would I tend to a garden when sunlight gives me migraine. I worried about what if I end up with arthritis and cannot sew anymore.Then I started panicking about my entire future and dreams and life.

But then my phone started playing Mama Mia - My go-to song. The song that always helps me during my panic attacks. And life seemed better again. I guess I can live with the knocking on the bathroom door every two minutes.

When I got out of the bathroom the song that was playing then was 'She's got the look'.  Ri jumped on the bed and shouted,'She's got the look' And then we both started dancing to the song and he clicked this picture of mine with the towel wrapped around my waist. This picture made me feel good because after seeing this, I think I can muster up some courage to wear knee length skirts.

Now I have a picture of myself in a towel on the internet. 

And life was back to normal again. Running away thoughts were put on hold. The aroma of mutton cooking in the kitchen seemed heavenly. I felt loved.

Except, of course the haunted nose. That stayed.

I will have to get the house ghost to get rid of it.

That reminds me. Ri mentioned the other day that he is learning Spanish. I asked him where he is learning Spanish from. He said that he is being taught Spanish by the ghost in his computer. He then said 'Ola' and then he said 'Es correcto' and walked away. I was pretty impressed. The house ghost has always been a darling. 

PS. Nick is doing fine too. (Just saying since all the other three members of the family are mentioned in the post)

PPS. Click on the links in the previous paragraph to read about the house ghost if you are new to my blog.

Also - when I mentioned about my fear for dementia to a couple of friends, a very dear friend messaged me saying - Don't worry so much about losing your mind. I suspect we'll miss it less than we have been led to believe. - :) She made me dream again.

And I shall finally eat mete chorchori tonight.

I have been having this insatiable craving for mete chorchori for the longest time now. Like for ever, Since 20^th June 2015.

I have also been through crazy highs and lows for a real long time now. More lows than highs.

What with days of not wanting to get out of bed, to days of browsing through Pinterest all day long trying to cheer myself up with pictures of chocolate cakes, glazed chicken and pretty quilts, life has been pretty crazy.

Unfulfilled craving for mete chorchori has just been adding to my woes.

Hence yesterday on our way back, I had been pretty grumpy.

SSM: What happened?

Me: Nothing.

SSM: Okay. (Continues driving)

(Silence for some time as I grumble in my head about how SSM never probes me after I say ‘nothing’)

Me: So remember, how on 20^th of June I had told you that I am craving for mete chorchori and you had said that you get the best mete chorchori only in North Kolkata and you shall get it for me. It has been ages since we have had that conversation. I guess this is what nine years of being married does to people.

SSM: Eight years. Seven and a half, actually.

Me: What?

SSM: We have been married for seven and a half years.

Me: Of course. Seven and a half. I remember. But that is not the point. Just because of your fixation for North Kolkata, I am starving to death.

(I notice SSM roll his eyes at that.)

Later that evening at home.

SSM: Why do you have dark circles around your eyes?

Me: Because I haven’t eaten mete chorchori for ages.

My Ma-in-law (she is a sweetheart) on hearing our conversation, laughed, and promised that she would be getting mete and cooking chorchori for me today evening.

And that is how I get mete chorchori for dinner tonight. :|

 ***

(I shall vote this as my most random post ever. But I am ecstatic since morning just thinking about dinner.)

***

Update: Mete dinner last night was the best dinner ever.

The rising, again.

This is a picture of my diary and not related to this post. I just wanted to flaunt it.

I was on my way back from work that day. I had almost reached home when SSM called me and asked me to wait since he was just around the corner.

I am glad he did that, otherwise I would have missed the most spectacular moment/vision of my life.

I was standing there and my eyes fell on some trash lying in a corner for the street. There was this plastic bag and suddenly it began to move. I knew what it was. I started recording it. Here is the video. Do watch it before you proceed.

Suddenly I realised that SSM was standing right behind me and I stopped recording. He was giving me a very weird look. (sometimes I really do not understand the looks he gives.)

SSM: Tell me, please, tell me that you have an extremely valid reason for video recording a pile of trash...

Me: That is no pile of trash... That's... That is the Dark Lord rising... again.

SSM: (taking a deep breath) You need to explain. You have been standing here recording trash, people have been stopping and staring trying to figure out what you are doing. Are you crazy?

Me: (taking a deep breath too) Did you not notice that plastic packet move? The Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort is rising again!

SSM: There is nothing moving there! Look! Nothing!

Me: Well, obviously it wouldn't move for you, you muggle!

SSM: Youv'e got Voldemort stuck in you head, weirdo!

Me: No, that would make me Quirinus Quirrell.

SSM: God! Save me!

Me: Even God can't save you if HE rises again. 

SSM: Oh crap!

Me: Listen, this is important. If Lord Voldemort does rise... I will have to go... Okay. You get that, right? You just take good care of Ri, alright. I will come back and take Ri with me when he is eleven.


SSM stared at me for a moment and then he just shook his head and walked away. I wonder why he asked me to wait if he just had to walk away. Weird guy! And I really hope that he starts taking important things, like Voldemort, seriously.

Introducing Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington aka Nearly Finless Nick

Ri and I had gone shopping together last weekend. SSM was going to pick us up on his way back from the hospital where my Mother - in - law was admitted. (She is fine now, thanks for asking)

This meant that Ri and I had ample time to shop without being hurried up. So all the shopping from the grocery list was done and more and then we went to the alley where they sell fish and meat. Apparently they also sell live fishes and there, in one of the tanks, floating in a plastic pouch with water just enough to cover him, was Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington.

Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington in a tiny pouch

I immediately felt sorry for him and Ri fell in love with him. So we had no option but to adopt him. After all he deserved better than that tiny pouch. See how sad he looks in there. He also seemed to have a rip in his fin. (Though the guy at the store did not agree to that bit about the rip and insisted that the fin is perfect and this is how it look, I refused to believe them.)

When SSM came to pick us up and saw Nick in the pouch his immediate reaction was - that fish is not going to live till we get home. And I said, do not call him that fish. He has got a name - call him Sir Nicolas or Nick. Though I do not think that you deserve to call him Nick. You are not on first name basis with him yet. As a reaction, SSM rolled his eyes, which Ri and I were only happy to ignore.

We also had a conversation that reminded me of this post.

At home, in the jar - Nick is as happy as he can be. He loves it there. He loves playing around the roots of the money plant there. He also goes and sits on a root that forms a loop in there. And goes around it.

See how he get into the root loop and comes out from the other side. That is his favourite play.

SSM said that fighter fishes react violently when they see their own reflection in a mirror. I told him that Nick is no usual fighter. He is a calm happy fish and that SSM should not even try to agitate him with a mirror.

But SSM being SSM, he did get a mirror and kept showing it to Nick. And. Nick. Did. Not. React. Ha!

See how happy he is and how lovely his colour is.

SSM then said that Nick is either blind or loony. And I told SSM that if there is anyone loony in this house, it is him... so he better not say a word against Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington.

I have reasons to believe that I am a vampire

The spice blood tea

My bestie gave me a few packets of 'spiced tea for the body and soul'. It was supposed to have spices (according to the picture on the packet) that would make your body and soul feel good (is what I assume from the name.)

When I drowned the tea bag in a cup of hot water... the colour started changing to a bright blood red. Just like when you stab someone in a swimming pool and pool slowly starts turning red... beautifully... just like that...

Everyone around me cringed at the sight but I... I touched the rim of the cup to my lips and sipped into that elixir with utmost satisfaction and sensual pleasure. It was awesome and all throughout I kept imagining that it was a cup of unicorn blood. This definitely did me good for the body and the soul.

***

This has happened once before, when I have thoroughly enjoyed gobbling something that looked extremely grotesque.

The blood and spleen pudding

***

And hence, now I have reasons to believe that I am a vampire.