I had a narrow escape today.

…from getting into a really (emphasis this) really weird situation. A situation where I didn’t know how I got into. No clue. Never happened before. Not in my living adult memory.

So, here is what happened.

Just like any other usual morning, I took my gamsa/towel and headed for the bath. I sat down for free-the-morning-poo activity and (very slowly I) looked at my hands.

And then I realised.

I realised that I have nothing in my hand, My hands are EMPTY. Not carrying a thing. As in no book, no newspaper or no mobile. So, What am I gonna read? All I could do now is just poo.

Pooing, an activity in which the food that I consumed yesterday, after passing through a myriad of churning, grinding, soaking, broken down, beaten will come out of me telling me (1) Human being is an open system- Bad Design. (2) I eat a lot. (3) I poo a lot.

I have never been in such a situation. I always have something to read. A book, or mobile to browse or the newspaper to look. I have to read before bath, before poo. It is important because free-the-poo activity is free because of reading. No reading could translate to no-pooing and that, I was about to find out.

Slowly, My head was registering the pain of empty hands, I could feel a growing lump in my throat, my heart beating like that of an infant. And angry voices inside my head yelling I was heading to a brainless activity of pooing.

I looked around my bathroom, It looked neat with the wall half-covered by the mirror. I have two baskets full of toiletries. And I could spot two toy-cars and one superman in one of these. Okay, For a home of a 6-year-old boy, that finding isn’t a surprise.

Before my lub-dub heart could burst out of the cage, I had to take control. Improvise. Think. What do I need….?. I need words. I grabbed the first thing that had it…. and here is what I discovered in the next few minutes reading bottles- My Shampoo has tree-tea-oil, the scrub has walnut and almond(why are we not eating this stuff ?), the face-wash has neem and the Colgate is recommended by most of the dentist in the world!

My head was trying to locate my mobile, or thinking hard where I left the book that I was reading (Devlok with Devdutt Patnaik- Avoid it, probably that is why head cannot locate it ) or where did I leave newspaper after picking up from the door.

All in the living room.

I could hear chit-chatting of humans breakfasting. Shit, now I can’t even call hubby to rescue. He is at the table with the guests.

This was turning into a full-blown crisis situation.

Well, for the readers, it may sound like a crazy woman speaking. What big deal, just do the thing, shower and move on. It is usual.

But I have never done it before. Not in my grown-up memory. I refuse to follow the social decorum which is.. just poo and move on. Do the thing. Do your thing.

I need to poo like how my son needs to eat. The skill is not to let the boy know that he is eating, and he will do exactly that without a fuss. But the moment his brain realises that his next half an hour of life is gonna be invested in eating, an activity he sees no point in doing, it turns into a rock. Solid and stubborn. No eating. I have better things to do , Like playing with the superhero. But do the same WITHOUT letting him know(distract him with superhero tales) and he will just finish the plate fine. Only, I need to hand-feed him. (OMG! I am a bad mother)

My pooing is like that. It is not an activity for my head. So I distract the head with reading. The grey cells just sends a signal for exit and then let the gravity do its work.

I need words, My brain needs words.

I had finished all the words available in that small room. Think.

The profound moment!

I have my kindle, in my office bag (I always carry it in my bag) the bag is on the bean bag, the bean is just one foot away from the bath-door.

I grabbed the doorknob and tried to listen to sounds outside. The humans are busy eating (Thank God, I made a very good breakfast today- Rawa Idli, Sambhar and ground-nut chutni)

I tip-toed to the bean, unzipped the first slot of the bag, where I usually keep my Kindle. Dunked my hand in for – Nothing.

Panic!

Checked the next slot, Nothing! Lump in the throat full to the brim ready to strangle me. Shit said the voice inside my head.

Next slot and … finally! I found it, I found my Kindle in the slot, resting next to the laptop.

Bless the soul who said Kindle’s battery should never die when a reader seeks it.

The rest, I really don’t care. I did the thing, my way 🙂

Happy Reading folks. Keep your books close to your heart.

PS: Why is this post sprinkled with the word poo so much! I got to stop using it any further in this post.

PPS: Duh! This is the end of the post. Seems like the morning panic has damaged my brain and engraved the word poo in it. “How are you pooing doing today?” What time are you coming back from poffice office? “Poome Come early”…

PPPS. I chuckled loud writing PPPS Because I almost wrote the PPS as “..my brain and engraved poo in it”. That is pure eww, Don’t imagine it. Puff. Another narrow escape.

PPPPS: Count my blessings for today- 2(Kindle and PPPS) so far. Actually 3, I managed to poo in the end.

Moral of the story.

Always, Always, Always keep your stuff in the room attached to the bath. Not in the living room.

Order a wall-hanging bookshelf for the bath.

Let go of some towels, make space for a book in the towel stand.

Always leave the Kindle in the first zip.

The photo is of my son. I just picked it out. No reason.

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Love it…then list it.

Rain. Barish. Definitely on top of my list.

Winter Sun. I love the warmth.

The warmth of my husband…He is hot!

The smile. The million dollar smile of my son, and his inane chatter.

The peace when the inane chatterer is finally asleep.

The sleeping chatterer and his peaceful face.Basically anything he does.

Food. At 1600 hours when am so hungry, I could eat a horse.

Food. At 1900 when am so hungry, I could eat an elephant a fish. I just had horse couple of hours back. I can’t be THAT hungry to eat an elephant now.

Sunrise. I guess. I actually haven’t seen one in a long time.

Bonfire. Only at home. During winters. Holding husband’s hand. Listening to inane chatter surrounded by my siblings and parent. Gosh, I really miss this.

Fish. When it is fried and added in curry.

Or Steamed.

Food seems to occur frequently in my list. Am I hungry now? Would everyone’s list have so much food?

The “Like” on my posts. Seriously. Thank you. Hit that like and remember to follow. Should I shamelessly ask more?

Poo and pee, especially after holding on for a long time. Whatever be the reason for holding.

Saying whatever and nevermind to annoy friend Tomas who hates any conversation that ends with whatever or nevermind.

Nevermind, he doesn’t read my blog. No point annoying my other pretty Readers. So Whatever, let’s continue with my list.

A night out with girl gang. Lollie-pollies, thank you for transforming me into a drunk dancer, saving my ass from the kitty-party-pout-selfies set up!

The left tilt of the weighing scale needle. Yay, am losing it!

Hot steamed white rice with ghee and aloo pitika (mashed potato).

I hope no one notices that the previous bullet is about food. Should I not write this post on an empty stomach. Do I see a pizza in the air?

Words. Fonts.

A resolved bug. Am surprised it is on my list. I do not want to be known as the IT girl.

Horror stories and the chit-chatting about the ghost. Are you sure there is no ghost in your apartment?

The call from a friend at 2230 hours to have cake. Home-made. Freshly baked. Nidhi , You rock 🎸

My phone showing Papa calling…

The bed. When it is all made neatly. Ready to engulf me.

Cuddling. Under a cover. Warm body.

Or Just me under a warm quilt/razai.

Sleeping late in the morning. Or just sleeping.

Chat at 3 am. Actually I hate that. Why can’t I sleep? Text at 3. Naaah.

Saturday and Sunday! Why don’t we have more of these days in a week? Like Mon, Sun, Tue, Sun, Wed, Sat, Thurs, Sat, Fri and then of course Sat-Sun. I stretched 7 days to 11 days. I think we can nip Monday. And Thursday too. And call it 9 days a week.

Book authored by John Green. When you stopped wishing things wouldn’t fall apart, you’d stop suffering when they did.

I swear, my husband would swear by that line. He is a certified non-sufferer. Contest open for anyone who can make him suffer. Prize money 1 million. I know I will make cool million.

Harry Potter movie. Add The Fantastic Beast to the list. Hindi Movie QueenLondon thumakta.

Assam. North East. India. Mountain.

The Big Bang Theory. And Friends. I will be there for you..

A long weekend. It’s coming soon…

Kaju-katli (Dry cashew nut sweet) and Mango (The king of the fruit). No one can eat just one. Summer is only good because of Mango.

Fart. Am so proud I could say that out loud. Technically I wrote. Didn’t say. Whatever.

Nevermind.Are you reading this? I sure do hope you do and be annoyed.

A good book. One that you cannot put down. Especially the last few chapters.

A walk in the rain. Even if it is silly. Amu- Do you remember our walk around apartment last monsoon. PS: Readers- Amu and I are NOT a thing together, although it would seem like two persons walking under rain as being a thing together.

Sunset, I always wished to have a dress that steals color from the setting sun.

The color of beetroot.

Capsicum and Bell Pepper.

Hey, Have you have lost weight…patli ho gaye hai” kind of greeting.

The coffee-time at the office.

The lunchtime at the office. Without A. He eats very slow. He is a sloth-like-eater. Actually, sloth will win.

Me and son jumping in front of the TV when the husband is insanely occupied into the TV.

Lotus. Always fascinated by this. Never seen one up close.

Color Green. It suits anyone, anything. Pleasant to eyes. One would say Blue. Whatever.

That should be all..for now. Nevermind my list. What are the things that you love the most? Make a list this valentine and be thankful.

❤💕💓💖💞💘💛💜💙💞💗👣

Image source…Google.

I hate it when someone else has power to ruin my day, to make me sad, to upset me.

I hate it when someone’s happiness gives me so much joy that I do stupid silly thing over and over only to be embarrassed later.

Ahem. So basically, I just hate Love.

Karma is a bitch .

or probably a dog. I mean why bitch, why not a dog? My fellow feminist will agree.

I don’t care. Not for this post.So don’t turn away coz you smelt a feminist.

The point of this post is, Karma is indeed a bitch or dog or whatever you wanna call it if it can be called “it”.

Why?

Because that would explain, why my husband even being on the wrong side of all doing, gets his way around doing all things, the wrong way.

This case was a direct indication of Karma “Oh! Get it, lady, he is right, even though wrong.”

The Evidence

My husband never ever takes his towel to his bath.  He just conveniently whistles,open his door slightly, peeks out his head, extend his hand and I hush-phash-rush on that sound, hand him over his towel.  Please imagine it, because it is romantic. But do not imagine with my husband. Use your own. Back in days, when nothing else mattered than seeing your husband dripping wet, fresh, scented, I would wait for the whistle and rest is ahem ahem ahem.

Now the romance is replaced by war-room tactics, to get my son out of the door before his school bus honks! Breakfast – check. snack pack-check. Milk-check. Oh no ! I forgot his pencil box. Why the hell do you even take it out of the bag? Please imagine this too. With my son. I would surely welcome you to try and replace me someday. The morning 7 to 8 AM. And, In the middle of all this chaos, I have to answer his whistle. Every day, with strict notes “Take your towel with you….”.

I, on the other hand, never go to bathroom un-prepared. Towel – check. Blah blah blah – check. I do not whistle, do not disturb, do not need an attendee to attend to my bathroom calls.

Who should Karma support? The wife who is prepared, well planned or a husband who goes to take bath without his towel?

One day I decided to set things straight for good. There comes the usual whistle, and instead of usual rush to answer it, I ignored, said am busy and didn’t pass his towel for a good 10 minutes or so.

If he can’t do it himself, he better wait when I can. Lesson learned.

Or So I thought.

Happy in my accomplishment, I sent son off to school and set out to my morning duties.

And imagine what did I forget to bring with me? To my bath.

On the day,  when I thought I taught my husband a lesson in the morning duties.

 

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This is my husband, while he waited patiently 15 minutes before passing me my towel. 

Karma -You are a bitch.

“In vino veritas”

I cannot drink alcohol. I have tried genuinely to drink couple of times , just a glass of wine , sometimes a sip or  a lick but my stupid pa latte thinks its from gutter and refuses to drink more. If only one could control senses ,  “drink this !

Did I say gutter , really ?

Yes . Its grape juice ,Isn’t it ? bitter , rotten , decade old grape juice , or whatever fruit juice. In the end , it’s bitter . From what little I managed to taste , it’s not bitter , it’s very very bitter . And so , the mystery , how the hell anyone likes it ?

I mean , sweet and salty I understand but drinking bitter liquid like water ? It’s bitter ! Who the hell came up with this idea?  That is something I will never know in this lifetime.

Last time I tried red wine , which was from India’s finest wine refinery , I tried hard to like it. Even bit a  cake in between sips to misguide my pa latte. Didnt work 😦  My tongue knew it is that gutter substance and I watched at the glass helplessly.

That is when I realized that there is one state of mind , which I can never , ever experience in life.

I can never be drunk!

I will never know how does it feels to be drunk , how free , exhilarating that might be. Is it as fun as they show in movies ? What’s a hangover anyways ? I will never feel light , tipsy or an alien out of this world. Will never talk or dance like no one is watching , will never be able to cry or laugh our loud like I have never laughed.

All this and more , is what I have assumed I will do if am drunk. I could only assume , unless I surgically remove my tongue or add taste buds from french where perhaps wine flows like water.

This may not be as bad as it sounds until I associated getting drunk to being honest. To know one true self , one must get drunk , peel out everything and just start talking and then whatever comes out in those moments will be the one that is actually true , there will be interesting stories ,embarassing moments  . . That will be nice , isnt it ? So it’s all that I assume. Wonder what I would be like…

I should sing and dance and talk !

Who knows my true self could be one hell of a rock singer or a whiny mother!

Never say never.  Am not gonna give up .

In vino veritas”