Category Archives: Prose

Surviving Quarter Life

Things you realise by the time you are in your late 20s:

Your hair on one side will always be longer than the other, even if by quarter of an inch, it is irrelevant how awesome the salon is.

Love is important no matter what your take on relationships.

Multiple dating isn’t as thrilling/fun anymore.

You don’t have as many friends as you thought you did when in college and school.

The ones who remain, however, are not going anywhere. Ironically, this is the time you stop using phrases like ‘friendz foreva.’

Your joints will start aching. Yes, it starts that early. Junk-food will not be that easily digestible (or at least not that desirable).

You will either fall asleep way too early or struggle to sleep all night.

Yoga is magic.

You choose juices over Coca-Cola when possible and try to reduce your sugar and bread intake , even if unsuccessfully. Your health and skin aren’t going to take care of themselves.

Bad boys are a thing of the past. You see them for what they are: charming assholes.

Maybe you won’t want marriage and children just yet but you realise the importance of having a partner who understands you and supports you.

You become more comfortable with your body.

You know that you can’t change the world. Anger gives way to resignation. Maybe you will still keep trying in small little ways even now but you realise you aren’t going to witness the next classless revolution.

Family is important, whether it is the one you were born with or the alternate ones you create.

At the same time, aloneness isn’t so bad.

Birthdays are not so important anymore. Birthday parties even more so.

You will finally be able to say NO when you disagree.

You will hate your job everyday or, if you are lucky, on some days. It doesn’t get better. Run if you really hate it before it is too late to reboot. Or else just remember, pay checks are the goal.

Important lesson you will learn:
Medical insurance is important and so is travel insurance.

Hope for the best but also know not everything will happen for you. Love without being afraid. Have all the sex that you can. Travel more than you can.

Don’t worry too much. It is not midlife yet 😉

Carpe Diem!!


Manmohan and me: A Love Story

I was twenty three when I first discovered my passion. It was eating, eating myself to be precise. From the time I started chewing my own hair, one strand at a time at first, then a lot more, there was no looking back. Soon I was bald and had not much to do as a way of passing time. So, I decided to eat my feet, one at a time, the toes were the best, soft and crispy at the same time, then I would drink the blood that would ooze out of my thighs and my cunt to quench my thirst, that and to keep the carpet clean. My darling Manmohan helped a lot, he would come to me, lick his private parts as I ate my pancreas and drink the extra blood that fell. I couldn’t have been more grateful. His mouth would have a childlike blood line by the time he was done and we would just lie in each other’s arms under the fan, tired and content. I would clean his whiskers before we fell asleep. By the time I would wake up in the morning, he would have already gone. We have an understanding: he never wakes me up in the morning and I keep the window open so he can come whenever he wants. I wonder sometimes if I am spoiling his habits as I dip my Marie biscuit in my gooey stomach and chew on my left breast for breakfast. Who will give him blood and flesh after I am gone. There is not much left, anyway. I just have the heart left, the lungs I donated to cigarettes ages ago and the liver Manny wanted, he spent the whole day on it yesterday. In retrospect, I don’t think that was a good idea as I have a pool of blood the shape of Antarctica in the bed room which he was ‘too full’ to drink! Whatever. When death is near one shouldn’t worry about cleanliness apparently, or so I have been told. My veins are stringier than I thought, I can feel my tongue wrestling with my teeth. I am hungry and I am not sure if I should go for the left or the right hand first. My head lies on the floor so I just suck at it from inside. There is still no sign of Manny, I hope he comes before my eyes are gone. I hope to see him one last time. I hope he tells everyone that I now live in him.