Ten Relationship Home Truths

Ten Relationship Home Truths

• The biggest mistake people in relationships make would be comparing their relationship to someone else’s.

• A relationship actually should be between two people. Don’t involve a third person. No aunt or mommy or best friend, no one, would ever be able to fix it for you. The only people that can would be you and your partner.

• EVERY COUPLE HAS PROBLEMS. Mature people handle it like pros and that’s why it seems like their relationship is killing it.

• You’re not ready for a new relationship with a new person if you’re constantly saying crap about your ex. You made the choice to date this person, your ex, and you shouldn’t let your present question your brains.

• Rebounds never really last. If someone says they’re happy with their rebound, they’re lying.

• Most millennials are hella scared of marriage. It’s not just you. It’s most of the millennial population. We’re a screwed up generation.

• Also, millennials are really bad with money. Don’t expect your man to always get you stuff because dude is paying EMIs and home loans and you need to chill about not getting a Valentine’s Day gift.

• If you need to play Nancy Drew and if you’re someone that wants his passwords, boo, you ain’t ready. Same goes for the men. If you can’t trust your partner, you need to take a step back and reconsider.

• If you can expect time and attention and other stuff from your partner without overdoing it, you’re going to make a great partner.

• It’s true: if you can be best friends with your partner, you’re super sorted and you’re hella lucky.

I Cheated and Felt Good

I Cheated and Felt Good

I’m guilty.

I’ve never had these …lapses. Never before. But I managed to slip up this one time.

I was home alone. He wasn’t around. The cat wasn’t around. The dog was with him. Everyone else was on holiday. Everyone but me. And when the cat is away…

The mouse will play. The girl will play. Argh. Ugh. Okay. Deep breath. Got a story to tell here. I’m sure you’re all like:

I’m gonna start from the beginning. I was unhappy. I didn’t like my routine, gym was frustrating the crap out of me and I couldn’t handle it anymore. It began one lazy Friday evening. I usually teach a batch of kids English on the weekends but my class had prior engagements that day, and they didn’t show up. What was a lonely woman to do? I logged in on to one fine app, started scrolling.

My, my.

All of that delicious, airbrushed looking skin. I could almost taste it through the screen. Yum. See, that’s how it started. With “this one little bite that couldn’t possibly hurt, could it?”

The thing with cheating, dear friends, is when you bite, you eventually start to fall. And with the falling comes the drowning. One weekend led to more weekends. One day of scrolling led to more days of scrolling. More days of cheating. You wouldn’t possibly know the satisfaction you get from giving into what you’re craving and before long, it becomes this addiction you can’t shake off.

One step forward, thirty billion steps back. You know it’s wrong, but it feels so good and you can’t stop.

And that’s how I cheated on my Keto. Happy April Fools’ Day, one day in advance.

Okay, PS: Swiggy and Zomato and other Food Delivery apps are really bad for you. Specially when you’re on Keto and you want to eat that box of beautiful, airbrushed looking donuts. Dear me. I think I broke Keto thrice and okay, it felt good but I guess I gotta uninstall all those apps now. I have zero restraint when I don’t have family around. Send help.

The Evolution of Music

The Evolution of Music

Hello, my love.

See what I did there? No? If you’re one of those people that grew up listening to Westlife, Backstreet Boys, Avril Lavigne, and other older artists, you’ll know what I’m talking about.

Westlife were on this hiatus and we thought they’d never come back and then they popped back into the picture with their newest offering, Hello my love. This makes my heart so happy. My Love is actually one of my favorite songs ever. Ooh ooh. Also, their single Better Man reached the top of the iTunes Charts within mere hours of its release just yesterday.

2019 is already off to a good start, people.

I remember back in the day when music would make you feel good, when music wasn’t something you’d had to play in secret because the lyrics were so vulgar they’d make a sailor blush. I’m looking at you, Cardi B. Leaving aside the fact that her name sounds like it could have a very good market as a vitamin supplement, her lyrics and her gyrating is just too much. Also, whatever happened to the Bruno Mars we so loved back in the day? The new video for Please Me is NSFW.

The only different – and good thing – about the 2019 music scene, to me, is probably Billie Eilish. She’s seventeen and slaying. Everything she does, and the music videos she makes, always have people talking. I love it that she doesn’t seem to sell sex (reminds me so much of old timey Avril Lavigne) and she doesn’t act like a crazy person, and that every song of hers has such deeper meaning that whatever meets the eye. So yay, Billie.

I remember being obsessed with boy bands in general. Pretty much like every other nineties baby. And now that those bands are making a comeback, I couldn’t be happier.

Although, pop disruptor Bebe Rexha is someone I listen to on a regular basis, her videos are kind of cringeworthy. Specially that video for Last Hurrah. Yikes. Also, did you know, that her biggest commercial success was this country song she did with Florida Georgia line? Crazy, huh? There’s nothing this woman can’t do. Ooh.

Also, how cool are these angel wings? Do you have a favorite nineties pop band?

Actually Painful Stuff

Actually Painful Stuff

Have you read Simon vs The Homo Sapiens Agenda? Becky Albertalli just casually throws a line in there about how exhausting blogging actually is. That’s the number one thing on our list today: blogging, on the daily, is painful. Painfully hard.

Is there anything harder than that? Yes. Challenges. The 365 day challenge. The gallon-of-water-a-day challenge. The no sugar diet challenge. The list goes on. Now don’t get me wrong – we love lists on this side of the Internet. We do. In fact, my blog seems to be filled with listy posts that people actually managed to read without falling asleep. So yay, go me. My point here, before I digress, is lists are hard to do. Both to make and to stick to. Also, I cannot tell you the number of lists that I have taped to my fridge. It’s more like a noticeboard that’s kind of screaming for help with things left unchecked. Life is mental. Life is batcrap mental. Send help.

You know what else is difficult? Trying to live with Indian parents whose maid just quit on them. Again, don’t get me wrong. My parents are wonderful people. It’s the maid that’s kind of super attached to her new grandkid and didn’t want to be a maid anymore but kind of needed the money – so long story short, she got found out stealing moolah from our wallets and tried to make us look bad and well, um, she quit. Maid culture is rampant in India. Your mum won’t miss you when you’re not around but she’s going to miss the maid. She’s going to be all depressed because she’s the ONLY person who’s working a nine to five job in the circle of other brown mommies, and has to come home and make her own tea. I think this bothers her more than anything else, making her own tea. She detests her own cooking. Go figure. And she won’t like it if you make tea for her because the maid simply does it better. Like holy wow.

Now, as if THAT wasn’t enough, there’s my most painful experience ever – having to wash my makeup brushes every Sunday. It’s a process. You gotta find your brushes first. Make a nice concoction with dishwashing fluid and olive oil, making sure you don’t mess up the ratio. Next, you need to clean the pink Sigma glove you use to swirl your brushes on, so the dirt comes out. And you’ve to do all of that without annoying your mum and her ritualistic Sunday-cooking frenzy. And then you’ve to leave the bushes to dry and put them back in their proper containers so they don’t look messy.

It’s tough being a woman. It is.


Allergy Season

Allergy Season

I don’t need alarms to wake me up these days. Thanks to the summer cold situation. It doesn’t even help that the air is to teasy with pollen, that my eyes are perpetually watery and my nose is constantly runny, and I’ve used up more tissues than the average public loos. God help me.

Allergic rhinitis is like that ex that won’t leave you alone. You’d think Cetrizine or Montelukast or other antihistamines would do the job and help with your allergy situation but oh no, you pop pills and go to sleep and you oversleep and you miss the morning workout. And that makes you grumpy and the goo oozing from the nosie doesn’t make it any better. Sigh. What a life, guys.

I’ve been atopic my whole life. I get it from my dad. Which means, once I’m exposed to even the tiniest fleck of dust or pollen or whatever, I’ll go red and rashy and end up looking like I’ve recently been burned in the oven. Thanks, Pop. And when you’re a physician, you can’t tell your patients that you’re sick because they lose faith in you (my doctor can’t cure herself) and that’s the worst thing ever.

Then come the food allergies. I can’t eat shellfish or eggplant. My cousin can’t eat his coveted poached eggs. My best friend can’t eat chicken without getting severe reactions. This one time it got so bad, she needed epinephrine shots. Yikes.

And all of that is bearable.

You know what’s the worst thing, though? When you’re allergic to cats. *sobs quietly* I love cats. The Persian ones. My friend had the cutest cats back when I was in college, and I couldn’t even play with them too much because I would end up sneezing my head off. And you don’t want your head to explode around cute furry animals. I have this friend who’s a teacher and is allergic to chalk dust. I wish her university would provide her with a damn marker pen and a whiteboard instead of the old timey backboard and duster and chalk. It’s painful, y’all, having to teach kids and be sneezy and sick and be allergy ridden and dripping nosie. Argh. If you’re reading this post, Ren, you know it’s for you. I hope you get better soon. And your Uni shows some kindness.

Coming back to me, I wish I could enjoy spring. I wish I could breathe in the nice crisp air instead of having to wear a mask all the time. So annoying.

The Rise of The Anti-Vaxxers

The Rise of The Anti-Vaxxers

Vaccine controversies have been around for almost a century. People that don’t believe in vaccinating their children or don’t believe in being vaccinated themselves, are called the anti-vaxxers. There’s been a sudden spike in the numbers, even more than the numbers last year, according to this article I found.

That’s crazy, right?

2018 has seen a lot of anti-younameit so far. There’s anti-Christ, anti-humanitarian, yada yada yada. And now we have Kat Von D join the bandwagon. She’s a tattoo artist, who injects her own body with chemicals but won’t vaccinate her baby when he’s born, because she’s vegan and refuses to pepper her child’s body with vaccines. Wow. There are hypocrites and then there’s Kat Von D. Why she going in and standing her ground is yet another piece of dumbass information – the Lancet published an article saying vaccines cause autism because of the aluminum that accumulates in your brain.

The doctor that published this also had his license taken away, because the connection between autism and vaccination is completely non-existent. There’s no solid proof because the whole thing is completely dumb to even talk about. You need to be vaccinated, period. Medical sciences have brought us where we are today, with longer lifespan and better lives, because vaccinations make it possible for people to not be prone to a lot of life-threatening diseases. Polio. Measles. Diphtheria. Tetanus.

I posted a comment under a Facebook video of a child getting vaccinated and people went off like crazy. But here is the thing: pathogens don’t seek permission to enter and infect your body. Pathogens don’t seek permission before setting up shop and making you sick. Pathogens just don’t. They won’t. So what’s the point, you know, of saying things like:

“Parents do whatever they want with their children and vaccinate them because children are incapable of giving consent.”

Right. That’s very sensible, yes? Because pathogens definitely ask oh hello, can we please live inside your body? Jesus, this whole thing gets me so mad. It makes me even more so because Kat Von D is super influential, and she says things that people tend to believe in and I’m scared epidemics are going to make a comeback super soon. The beauty community acts like the Roman mob from Julius Caesar every time something like this happens. I’ve gone ahead and boycotted the brand (it makes me very sad, because I did love the KVD liquid eye liners) and I’m not alone – other people are doing it too.

Combined with the rising number of people that believe in the earth being flat, and that vaccines cause autism, I don’t want to live on this planet anymore. This is why we are undergoing serious retrogressive metamorphosis and soon, we will go back to the stone ages and the human race is going to die out. Just you wait.

Things I Learned on Vacation

Things I Learned on Vacation

I’ve been away for a good while. Not gonna lie, I missed blogging terribly. I missed being able to sit down and pour my heart out on my freaking keypad and I missed being able to talk to you guys.

To answer your question, no, I’m not dead. Just on a hiatus. And extremely happy that I got to think about a bunch of stuff, because going someplace with no cellphone reception is, like, liberating. This was a learning curve. A whole lot goes down in a week’s time, you know?

Here’s what I learned on my getaway:

1. People stay in your life as per their convenience.

I had this friend. Really, really, really good friend. The 3 AM SOS kind of friend. I go away for a while, bam, I get unfriended – literally. Please note, that this was the person that would text me at ungodly hours and I would always be down for a conversation, no matter how tired I would be. You can tell a lot from the way a person’s text pattern changes and one word answers and weird emojis are a big no no. I asked if she wanted me to stop bothering her – she replied, without missing a beat, “Yes”, no punctuation. Which also goes to show that two women can never stay friends for ever. That ship sailed way back in 500000 BC and it’s a lost cause.

2. It’s good to disconnect.

I had no idea I would feel so good with no cellphone reception. I was happy without having to FaceTime, text or call people to assist them when they needed help with something. And people usually call when they need something, we all know that. It felt really good. I swear.

3. It’s not the place, it’s just how you feel, that actually matters.

You don’t have to go to Bali. Or Peru. Or the Bahamas. You could just take a random road trip or go trekking and feel so much sadness lift if you just let things go. You’ll end up noticing so much. And little things do make the most amazing memories to cherish. Look at this amazing heart shaped stone I found while walking around to go see this waterfall. In the middle of nowhere.

Changi falls, Rishap, North Bengal, India.

4. Fur babies are beautiful.

I was at this hill station called Loleygaon, and the place we stayed at had a few highly trained, pet dogs. Meet Whitey (I’ve to be honest, I hate that name), Bobo and Bailey. I may not be ready to have kids just yet, but fur babies? A million times yes.

5. Food is bae.

You don’t have to constantly be on diet and punish your body. Letting go sometimes, feels really good.

I’ve never had as many dumplings my whole life. And guess what? I didn’t feel guilty at all. I know I’m not a photographer but here’s what I’m talking about. Momo and Thukpa on a cold, rainy day. That’s what I’m talking about.

Does anyone want me to do a travel blog post? About the places I’ve been to this past week? Let me know!

How I Effectively Waste My Holiday

How I Effectively Waste My Holiday

Most people just take vacations instead. They pack their bags, and some sunscreen, and get on a plane. Some of them do road trips. Me? I invest in a lot of ish to keep myself busy. Here’s top ten ways I while away my time.

1. Watch Box Office Flops.

I’m watching Our Brand is Crisis today. While Sandra Bullock looks stunning when blond, ah, the whole story about being a campaign manager for a politician is so BORING, even Bullock’s brilliant acting can’t save it. The movie had a budget of twenty eight million dollars US, BUT made only eight point six million at the box office.

2. Watching The Bachelor reruns.

Not gonna lie. My whole time is spent on the couch, binge watching crap on the telly. And I got fascinated by Nick Viall. That man is more than a decade older than I am and his strive to keep going and find love gives me so much hope, I can’t even.

Which also makes me wonder what’s the point? You fornicate with a million people on TV and pick one in the end, and you break up. Why would you do that to yourself?

Beats me.

3. Guilt tripping myself.

When you’ve got nothing to do, it gives your brain a lot of room to contemplate eating healthy, for example, because that’s when you guilt trip yourself the most into maybe eating a salad five times a week. And soup. And green stuff.

4. Texts. And panic attacks.

I’m going to crack a complete joke and say that this is what a real panic attack looks like. When your man says he’s gonna call and you’re like OMG I AM NOT CUTE AT THIS POINT. So you put on concealer and lipstick and mascara at 12:25 am and get on video call.

5. Drive randomly.

The beauty of the planet lies in the fact that you’re supplied with so much to explore. Where I come from, for example, there’s a huge forest belt. And I bet Nat Geo would go crazy if they were to find out.

6. Overindulge. And then, regret.

I go online and buy crap I don’t even need. For example, a new watch just because it looked fancy. Or a new pair of heels that I’d never wear. And then my bank suspects someone of having stolen my card and it ends up getting blocked. Which makes me regret my whole course of action and I cry and wish I hadn’t bought so much crap. That. I. Didn’t. Need. And now I’m on a no-buy till the end of the century.

7. Stare into space.

Amazing exercise, by the way.

This is literally me.

8. Catch up with my best friend.

Which I actually do everyday: and we talk about stuff that would make Amber Rose feel violated. Heh heh heh.


9. Wear makeup and wash it off.

Because I have an Instagram account to take care of. No one really cares, but I love to think that they do.

I’m a pseudo-beauty blogger, you see.

10. Try to actually blog.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I’ve been feeling so lackluster lately. Like, I feel like I need a vacation alone and to really reconnect with myself. Maybe then I’ll get some stuff to actually talk about. Such mechanical lives we all lead. Sigh.

Maybe then I wouldn’t be googling stuff like…

Anybody else on a break? Who am I kidding, I’m constantly on break. Ahahahahha.

“Good Morning Texts” – How Pivotal Are They?

“Good Morning Texts” – How Pivotal Are They?

Disclaimer: It’s kind of sad that I have to put out a disclaimer before I start ranting about this um, very sensitive, topic, but this post isn’t meant to hurt people. Or to bash anyone. Now, with that being said…

I was on Quora the other day, and chanced upon this question:

Is it superficial of me to expect good morning texts from my boyfriend?

And this instantly caught my attention, so I looked through the thread. While some people seemed to think it was childish and the person who asked the question seemed to be clingy, dramatic and yes, was expecting way too much, this one answer with a ton of upvotes stood out to me. This person said:

I’m reading all the answers and I can not believe what I read. It feels like everyone is saying, that expecting a good morning message from your partner is a bullshit.

No wonder this world is so ……up. I mean what are your priorities people? It is not about the “text”. It is about the “thought”. How you keeping the spark and romance in your relationships?

There should be always that one second, for that sweet thought of your partner. Even just to check up if they actually alive. Because guess what? Waking up in morning is not given. Same as is not given you will survive your day. So make time for people you love, and even if its stupid good morning message, make the effort. Make effort to be creative and romance each other and give each other love in every way possible. Because that what’s really matters in this world. If you can not find time for someone else then yourself then just don’t have relationships. If you can not do something out of your box to make your partner happy then don’t have relationship either. That’s why there are so many miserable ones.

So no it is not superficial from you. Explain to him,that it makes you happy and it is something you need. If he really truly cares about you he will make more effort. If not, you are not compatible.

And I agree, 💯.

I went on google to do some more digging of course, and a million images popped up. All saying – surprise, surprise – the exact same thing. That it’s not the text, but the thoughts, it’s about priorities, and that waking up everyday is certainly not a given.

I’ve also noticed a pattern. Men say that women become clingy, nagging and demand far too much. Let’s talk examples, shall we? I know this person who would get Good Morning texts every single day, without fail, at the initial phase of their relationship, with her boyfriend of six months. And she was so happy, she thought he was the one – because no matter how busy he was, he would wake up in the morning and call and text her and tell her he loved her. Every time, before they hung up. He would call her once he got home each night and treat her like every girl deserves to be treated in a relationship. There were no fights back then. And when things changed and this same man wouldn’t bother to say good morning, goodnight, the regular love yous, and when the call frequency dropped from several times a day to just one every week, that’s when the problems started.

This is a real life example, people, and my acquaintance isn’t the only one.

So what happened next? She began to nag. She started to feel insecure. He would say be right back, and never call back (“BRB”) and she would stay up waiting. He would be online, and not text her, and it prompted her to wonder if she wasn’t good enough. So she did the only thing she thought was prudent at this point: she started pulling away. And when two people pull away equally, there’s nothing left to be in a relationship for, right? You’ve GOT to meet halfway. No matter what relationship you’re in, if you want to make it work, you’ve got to meet halfway. You can’t start out all perfect and then suddenly drop the act. I mean, just be 💯 you from the beginning. Don’t make fake promises if you can’t keep them, just to make someone love you, because that ish hurts like a pinch to the ‘tipples’ (something DanIsNOTonFire says).

Some people never know loneliness until they get into a relationship.

Some people never know love until they’ve experienced some form of hate broken relationships bring to the table.

Some people never know pain unless it’s from someone they love.

Which brings me to Good Morning texts. It takes a few seconds to type three words. If you’re a man, in love with someone, and you know you want her for the rest of your life, and you are the kind of person that sends good morning texts now, don’t stop sending them later when your relationship is a few months old. Unless your girl asks you to stop sending them. You’re lucky, you know? Most girls don’t expect a ton, they just need some love. And when men show love and stop showing it suddenly, that’s where all the problems arise. Imagine your life if you were in love with someone like Anfisa from 90 Day Fiancé (a stupid TLC show that YouTube keeps recommending and it’s so scripted, and so pathetic, you’re oddly tempted to watch even though you want to slap people across the face).

And now, GOOD MORNING, Everyone.

My Love Is Different

My Love Is Different

I never really had a ton of friends growing up. No siblings. No cousins would come over to stay as much, because we were all based in different cities. To say that I didn’t have a happy childhood would be a bit of a lie, because I do remember Barbie dolls in my favorite cousin’s room, I do remember a trip to the hills with this cousin who’s almost my age, and I do remember that funny haircut we all had. And then puberty stuck and things changed.

The older cousins went off to college and eventually, got jobs. The younger ones got busy with school. And I, being that awkward one aged fifteen, got stuck somewhere in the middle. And every girl needs her mother, you know? But the cracks in my relationship with my mother only ever grew wider. At some point, it became unfixable. When you’re fifteen, you have a lot of schoolwork. And when you’re fifteen, overweight by a good thirty kilos, myopic and pimply and retarded-looking, plus a lot of schoolwork, you don’t really have much to do, except study and wallow in self-pity. I wasn’t allowed to watch TV, wasn’t allowed to have internet access and wasn’t allowed to go out. I was schooled and homeschooled when not at my actual school. But no, I don’t expect you to feel sorry. It happens in most brown families.

So anyway, I grew up, craving my mother’s approval and her love. I never got it. It’s been a decade. I don’t have any happy memories. At this point, I’m convinced things won’t ever change. I’ve had nearly three decades of trying to convince my mother to please, love me, but it hasn’t happened, and it’s never going to happen.

When you come from a loveless background, you tend to have lots of love stored in your heart because it doesn’t get reciprocated. Between the fights, the abuse, the struggles, the clawing at each other parts, I was rather happy to leave home when I eventually made it to college. I guess college felt more like home than home ever did. Not one to believe in horoscopes, I eventually came to believe in it when it said I would never get along well with my mother. In fact, I would never get along with her at all. No matter how hard I tried. So I lived through my college days, with all this love in my heart, wasted it on a lot of dates, and never got anywhere.

But then I met someone.

And I realized, that he loved me too. Maybe, just maybe. I’ve craved approval, craved acceptance and craved affection with all my heart, and here he was, all broody eyes and no smiles, and beautiful, and he loved me. At least he said he did. He wanted to get married. And I gave him all my love. I did things that are typically cookie cutter roles laid out for men to play. I compromised. I overlooked the frequency of calls, and texts. Overlooked the fact that he wouldn’t wish me on New Years’ and Valentine’s Day. Overlooked the fact that he thought I was a manipulative, attention-seeking, sly woman. And that he said that to my face. Overlooked the fact that we never really talked about serious things. He made me feel like I was a rebound, and I didn’t let that bother me. He put me on the bottom of his priority list, but I was just happy to be on the list.

You see, my love is different.

You give me one percent, I give you my all. You stay busy and you act rude, I make excuses for you. I convince myself that this is how love works. My love, it’s different. It’s crazy. It’ll consume you, whole, and I know that. If you’re ignoring my texts and making it look like I’m talking to myself, I don’t feel bad. There was a time, when I was very young, when I fantasized about someone putting a ring on my finger. Cushion cut, platinum band, that was me. I’d pray someone would get me flowers every Birthday, every Valentine’s Day. Get me chocolate just because. I had such high expectations. And when none of that happened, but a man finally reciprocated my feelings, I was happy to settle.

Earlier, I would wish someone would treat me like other men treated their girlfriends – I wished to be included, you know. I wished to be loved back, I wished I would get goodnight and good morning texts without having to beg. I wished someone would want to talk to me just because they missed me. I wish, I wished to be someone’s priority. But not anymore. Because my love is different and I’m just happy to be on his radar.

Based on a true story.