26 Jun

I finished writing my book.

I’m reading it now.

Then I will change whatever/however I need to.

Then I shall send it to people I trust to read it.

Then I shall take note of their feedback and incorporate/dump it.

Then I shall ring up a certain sassy lady who said she’s interested in whatever I write.


I think. therefore I think.

26 Jun

A lot of thinking is more good than bad for the soul. I went for Vipassana, went off the internet (meaning: Facebook) and (as good as) blogging. I read and re-read books, started writing in a diary again, and I stopped talking about myself to everyone but my therapist. Somewhere in there was a family vacation that triggered this withdrawal, a family vacation I would like to smother in the dark recesses of my mind except for the eating of a whole butter chicken in strictly-veg Joshimath.

But two days ago I went for my first yoga class in nearly three months. My yoga instructor is a darling who doesn’t have a time limit on the classes that you pay for. And I went shopping for a birthday gift for my brother who turned 26 this year. I feel like visiting my friend’s parents tomorrow. And I even talked with my friend about myself, the first time I  had done that in about … well I can remember the last conversation but not when it happened.

The meaning of friends has shifted. It has been such a subtle change that I realised it only yesterday/today…? They’re there, far away, but there whenever I want them to be, need them to be. I’m not in anyone’s pocket and no one is in mine, but all I need to do is call them and start talking, and they listen. None of them can solve anything for me, but them listening as beautifully as they do is priceless. I’m awed by what I have with them.

The last couple of days the feeling of being okay was a bit wobbly, shaky, like a toddler trying to stand up on her own feet and take a few steps. Today, she walked. Not very far, but she walked.

Such is life — the pace is never the same. Right now, if I were any slower, I’d be crawling backwards.

Of late, I have been inspired by to create my own visuals, like I used to in my childhood and my college years. Though something other than fashion illustrations. I think her Durgas are gorgeous. The good news is that she has started getting commissions from abroad now. Being a Bengali, she was always embarrassed about money but has recently graduated (after a lot of push-n-pull) to the 5-figure realm. Considering I’m unemployed, I regret not taking advantage of her when she was still under-charging.

Anyway, doing one thing at a time might not be a good thing for me. So I shall start my painting and sketching too, though not on a professional basis. I’m more into comic strips and surrealism. I bought some paper and got my paints together, but haven’t started yet. I’ll do it in my own sweet time.

And that’s where my thinking has led me — picking up one more thing-to-do. The idea is to freelance when in Bombay and sell paintings through the web while I continue writing books.

Oh, I’m also more relaxed about my TV-watching habits. It stays on all the time. Hallelujah I’ve invented a new way to write a book.

Pirates of the Caribbean — on stranger tides

27 May

What’s up with pirates with consciences? I’d rather watch parts 1-3 on a loop!!


24 May

Rituporno Ghosh’s Naukadubi is like a poem.

Am off…I think

16 Apr

Off to Vips tomorrow.

And despite what everyone’s been saying — eeeeps. The location of the V centre is not all that great, apparently it’s a den for anti-social elements. My parents keep trying to get me to change my mind, but — bottom line — are supportive. Bless them. I’m so incredibly proud of having parents who understand and accept that I’m not an extension of them, and that I will be doing stuff that they are unsure about. Despite that I bit my dad’s head off today. bad moment. actually a culmination of bad moments.

I’ve forgotten the wonderful feeling I had about the V centre when I was there two months ago, when I had gone to check it out and couldn’t because there was a course on.

Yesterday, I went shopping for it, and found myself choosing unattractive bottles and brands. only becos we re not supposed to be prettifying ourselves there. I bought my first ever Colgate prickly heat talcum powder. sandalwood.

BUT on my way to the supermarket, I took a detour into Vero(a?) Moda. It has been in Calc for less than a year, and the last time I went there I was pretty unimpressed. Yesterday, there was a sign in the window saying linen pants are 35 pc off. So in I walked. And bought a barrelful of clothes.

I know women are supposed to have a thing for shoes. Or so the stereotype goes. Apparently, the logic is that feet sizes don’t shift and change shape as frequently as our waists and hips and thighs do. So the generous outpouring of love. I, on the other hand, love clothes. I pay almost no attention to footwear. I love heels so long as they’re on shelves; cannot bear them on my feet for more than an hour. And accessories make me feel heavy, like I have something extra, totally unnecessary on me. Yeah, I’m not about fashion, channeling my personality through clothes (although if u head to fashion week all the stylists and several designers look like they’re channeling the same personality) I don’t care about trends or the right colour combinations or any of the ‘shoulds’ of fashion.

Probably cos I love my wobbly bits. Fashion and its stores/brands are unkind to women who aren’t thin. Maybe age has got something to do with it, but I love my wobbly bits a lot more than I used to, instead of starving to get as thin as I can be before I hit my 30s (I expected myself to do that). I bought two linen pants and love them. And three or maybe four blouses that I love, they’re a bit different from the usual stuff in my wardrobe, and just what I’ve been wanting.

Of course, only the linen pants are valid for vipassana. No prettifying.

Oh, and the date on this blog will show 16, but I’m writing this on the 15th. I procrastinated.

Patience, my child, patience

9 Apr

It’s slow. But I’m a lot less impatient that I was even a fortnight ago. I guess it’s age.   😛


And someday I shall write a proper blog post.


8 Apr

For all that no-TV binness (couldn’t resist — it was the one thing about Band Baaja Baarat that made me laugh out loud), I finished my plot outline pretty fast the minute I sat with the idiot box switched on. So now I’ve begun writing. Today was a slow day, but I’ll pick up speed. It’s a matter of focussing each day at a time. Focussing is an uphill climb for me. And Lord knows how much I hate exercise.


Day … 11?

6 Apr

Ready to write. Starting tomorrow. excited.

Day 9

4 Apr

is the day I looked back on Day 1 and laughed. And shook my head at myself.

So I kept the TV on all day, been sleeping really late (this is the second or third night in a row for posting a post post-midnight and getting the dates muddled), and waking up really late, and doing okay.

I made progress on the alternate plot outline, in case you’re wondering.

No reading though. That’s the caveat with watching TV.

The thing is — I don’t quite feel I’ve relaxed and I don’t quite feel I’ve worked either. I’m in a middle zone of numbness.

Day 8

3 Apr

I’ve reached the conclusion that my routine needs to vary. I’ve accepted it. and I have been watching TV, and working while in front of it, and I can say that my mind works better when it is allowed some room. One day in front of the TV (match + Sherlock + CID + Khote Sikkey) after several day of abstinence (ok a week of abstinence) and I’ve made a breakthrough. It just happened, while my mind wasn’t “working”, “focussing”. Yay. 🙂  Now I know that a couple of days later I shall feel dissatisfied with working with the TV on, and I shall go through a downswing before I work without it.

Or maybe i’ve learned to be better prepared.

Japleen Pasricha

Founder of Feminism In India. Feminist. Activist. Educator. Traveller

Author, ranter, dad

All Quiet On The Wench Front

Herstory at its fucking finest.

Ashish Shakya

Writer. Stand-up comic. General idiot for hire.