Counting the days:
Yes. It is all here. The subtle change in
the air. The sudden rush of cool breeze brushing past that drop of sweat
trickling down the collarbone. The cotton ball clouds. The sun is looking one shade
brighter, and so is the sky. The bamboo barricades, the hoardings, the lights.
It’s time for Her to visit us again – along with the whole Team. Pujo is less
than a month away. We no longer feel the ‘himer
porosh’ in mid-September, thanks to the screwed up pattern of climate. We
have no chilly autumn here, only humid summer. But the smell of Pujo is
unmistakable in the air.
Indulging:
In the luxury of
ayurveda. Of all the Kama ayurveda products I have
started using this one is my absolute favourite. I love the pungent aroma of
herbs soaking through my skin after every shower. In my very busy daily schedule
of self-loathing I enjoy this 5 minutes of pure bliss of mollycoddling myself.
Reading:
Hyperbole and Half. This is not exactly a
new blog, not a running one either – the last post dates back to 2013. But that
doesn’t make the content of this blog any less interesting. Depicted through illustrations made on Paint, the posts are mostly about the author’s childhood
incidents, recounting in the most deadpan comical way.
Time travelling:
From 500 BCE to nineteenth century India. Another
one from my ‘unfinished’ pile. Bought it two years ago, but then stopped
midway. For no reason whatsoever. It’s time to finish it.
Toddy the golden retriever and his little
sister Maria. I follow hundreds of dog accounts on Instagram and this duo from
Brazil is my most favourite IG people. I never miss a single photo, single
video of these two breaking all records of cuteness.
No. Still not ready to even cherish the idea of having kid(s).
No. Still not ready to even cherish the idea of having kid(s).
Making lists for the upcoming trip:
This is unequivocally my most favourite
part of any trip.
Watching:
Forever summer with Nigella. And trying to
figure out which is more alluring – the food or the chef.
Listening to:
Mirzya title track. Folk with a classical
touch? Check. Tragic love story? Check. Undecipherable lyrics? Check. (My Hindi
knowledge is pathetic) Not to mention an unusually attractive Harshvardhan
Kapoor. I am already in love with Mirza Khan and his legends.
And last but not the least:
Scratching my head in quiet desperation thinking what to write for my next blog post. I fear I'm turning into one of those featherbrained blogger chicks I despise the most.
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