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“There is not much I know of Love. Or Lust for that matter. But I do know one desire. I want to have a beloved who would lock me up in a room with her, surrounded by books, cigarettes, old music, some vinyls, a gramophone. And I’d never ever leave the room. And whenever she’d leave to buy cigarettes or books or vinyls, I’d get frightened and I’d fanatically distract myself by writing poetry of longing and absences and melodramatic pain. I would pant like some lost pup when I would hear the key slide in the lock and the moment she enters, I’d wipe my face clean and give her a calm composed smirk as if I never noticed her absence but she’d know my lies the moment I’d raise the cigarette to my lips, my hands would still be trembling and there would be ink all over the fingertips, staining the fragile cigarette paper.”

– (via urbansanyaasi)

Birbal Ki Khichdi / The New Age BiryaniAn Urban Legend. A rite of passage. The stuff that festivals were made of, infact we would be all…View Postshared via WordPress.com

Birbal Ki Khichdi / The New Age Biryani

An Urban Legend. A rite of passage. The stuff that festivals were made of, infact we would be all…

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Piyo Glassful Doodh / Kulfi Milk

On OmnomnomVille: Piyo Glassful Doodh / Kulfi Milk… Read, try and share :)

I woke up with the feeling of not having cold coffee for breakfast today. I felt bored of the same old breakfast and I wanted to spice it up and have something simple and easy with my usual fair of paranthas.

This does not even qualify as a recipe but…

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tangiblememory: There always has been an undercurrent of struggle between love and loyalty. Love and responsibility. Love and duty. Love and family. The sad truth is not many can see that there is very little difference between those words. Love is duty, and family, and loyalty, and yet, for some incomprehensible reason, we find ourselves torn by the perceived differences.  This is Tanzila Anis’ tangible memory. A ring of gold that reminds her there are no ifs, ands or buts when it comes to unconditional love. “What is the most significant, memory-laden, gushingly sentimental object currently in your possession?” - Andrew Kaufman   1.      Tell me a little about yourself. Something that gives me a sense of what you’re about: I am a hoarder, of things, people, memories and mostly emotions. Everything is a strongly attached emotion to me. And that’s why leaving or throwing away anything is difficult for me. I form bonds and feel bad when they are cut, because I don’t realize that these bonds were never tied to be cut in the first place. Oh and I am a crier. Came pre-packaged when I bought the hoarder quality from the supermarket.   2.      What is the most significant, memory-laden gushingly sentimental object currently in your possession? (It could be ANYTHING. Try to think of the first thing that comes to your mind. That’s usually it.)  This ring which my mother got made for me. 3.      What’s the story behind it? (Don’t worry about being judged or about what anyone will think. This is YOUR memory and it’s precious.)  My mother promised she’d get me a diamond ring when I graduated from college. So I got this. I wore it proudly and always flaunted it because it was the first piece of gold jewellery that was truly mine.  This year in January, after 2 long and painful years of trying to convince my parents to let me get married to the guy I want to, I finally went ahead and got married to him. There was so much drama attached to it that I had left the house 2 days before the court date and was living with a friend. I did not expect my parents to come to court. I was hardly dressed as a bride. My father came with my sister. He brought flowers. My sister gave me a little red box and told me my mother sent it. My mother-who was so against the boy, his family, my having to leave my job and my city, my moving to a small town-that same Ammi had sent me the first piece of jewellery I would own as a married woman. It was the same ring. I haven’t taken it off since and it is still the only other piece of jewellery I own as a married woman. It is a reminder to me that no one loves me like my parents do, The fact that they were right about a few things about this marriage is a sardonic twist, but it still reminds me more of happy things than sad. 

tangiblememory:


There always has been an undercurrent of struggle between love and loyalty. Love and responsibility. Love and duty. Love and family. The sad truth is not many can see that there is very little difference between those words. Love is duty, and family, and loyalty, and yet, for some incomprehensible reason, we find ourselves torn by the perceived differences. 

This is Tanzila Anis’ tangible memory. A ring of gold that reminds her there are no ifs, ands or buts when it comes to unconditional love.


“What is the most significant, memory-laden, gushingly sentimental object currently in your possession?” - Andrew Kaufman

 

1.      Tell me a little about yourself. Something that gives me a sense of what you’re about:

I am a hoarder, of things, people, memories and mostly emotions. Everything is a strongly attached emotion to me. And that’s why leaving or throwing away anything is difficult for me. I form bonds and feel bad when they are cut, because I don’t realize that these bonds were never tied to be cut in the first place. Oh and I am a crier. Came pre-packaged when I bought the hoarder quality from the supermarket.

 

2.      What is the most significant, memory-laden gushingly sentimental object currently in your possession? (It could be ANYTHING. Try to think of the first thing that comes to your mind. That’s usually it.) 

This ring which my mother got made for me.

3.      What’s the story behind it? (Don’t worry about being judged or about what anyone will think. This is YOUR memory and it’s precious.) 

My mother promised she’d get me a diamond ring when I graduated from college. So I got this. I wore it proudly and always flaunted it because it was the first piece of gold jewellery that was truly mine. 

This year in January, after 2 long and painful years of trying to convince my parents to let me get married to the guy I want to, I finally went ahead and got married to him. There was so much drama attached to it that I had left the house 2 days before the court date and was living with a friend. I did not expect my parents to come to court. I was hardly dressed as a bride. My father came with my sister. He brought flowers. My sister gave me a little red box and told me my mother sent it.

My mother-who was so against the boy, his family, my having to leave my job and my city, my moving to a small town-that same Ammi had sent me the first piece of jewellery I would own as a married woman. It was the same ring.

I haven’t taken it off since and it is still the only other piece of jewellery I own as a married woman. It is a reminder to me that no one loves me like my parents do, The fact that they were right about a few things about this marriage is a sardonic twist, but it still reminds me more of happy things than sad.