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"Why do we chop our hair? The question may sound simple, with usual answers on the lines of 'I want to experiment' or 'My hair was sort of damaged after all that drastic coloring'. But at times, the reasons are a lot more. I have asked this question to a few women I have known and here were their answers.

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"Someone said that if a girl chops her hair, she wants to change her life. I too wanted to change my life, so I took the plunge. Did it work? For the first 3-4 days, I felt new. I had this confidence that I could do anything. But that feeling wore off too soon. Sure I still looked different, but that feeling of excitement was gone. I don't regret having short hair, but next time I do it, I will do it for better reasons."

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"It was an accident. The salon guy didn't understand what I wanted at first. I wanted Emma Stone's hair in La La Land. And what I finally got was, well, it was really short. I hated it at first. Then the compliments started pouring in. At dinner, my roommate told me I looked like a model off-duty who means business. The next morning, I put on some make-up and the way I felt before leaving home was pure bliss."

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"It was all great in the beginning. But then, I started looking like a boy from certain angles. And that was a bummer. When I put on make-up, I looked like a thousand bucks, with every feature enhanced, my collar bones were a dream. I would do it again. But I would need to resolve to be a make-up kinda girl till I intend to keep the hairstyle." 
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P.S. I was just bored with my old hair.

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She had pride. Queen-sized.
Never too much for anyone.
Just enough to fit her beaming spirits.

And when it got too cold
She would wrap herself in his love
And dream about the northern lights 

He would never stay the night
You are not my destination, he said
Yet she smiled in her sleep

You will come back again baby
I may not be much to look at
But my heart. It's hell of a pit stop.
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Please follow me on GFC and Facebook and Instagram if you like reading the blog.

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When someone we love is sad, we usually do whatever we can, to cheer them up. We tell them it will be okay, that time will take care of everything. When we think it's almost a first world problem they are crying over, we, in our most subtle ways, tell them that it could have been worse, and how lucky they actually are.

I am one of those people.

But today was different. I woke up to an Instagram story where a girl I absolutely adore, posted that she wasn't feeling right. She felt unsupported, unloved. I thought she had everything, that she was living a life most of us can only dream of. So when I read her story, it made me sad. But before I could type something to send her a positive message, something struck me.

Why is it that when others are not okay, I have all sort of good things to say to cheer them up, but when I am down and out, I am clueless. In fact I go as far as to think I deserve it. Why don't I talk myself into believing it's for the best? When I look around, I realize it's not just me. Many of us are guilty of not being kind to ourselves.

And this doesn't look right. I have to run to work as I write this, but I will make sure I work on becoming a little kinder to myself. Maybe start with an indulgent glass of cold hazelnut latte. What, I am sad, i deserve it! I even deserve another vacation at a place like this.
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Please follow me on GFC and Facebook and Instagram if you like reading the blog.



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Everything good in the world
Rolled into one pair of eyes
The eyes that saw me falling
The eyes that never looked away

I guess I slept for a moment
I thought I tied your hand with a scarf
Or was it all a dream?
The eyes just a mirage
........................................... ...... 

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Is writer's block a real thing? I very much think so. I am not talking about that occasional blank screen or that once in a while mediocrity that makes the words that you type look like a bunch of hybrid plants that no one wants. I am talking about the vacuum that doesn't let even a simple 300 words write-up happen...at times for as long as a week.

I have googled ways to overcome this. But somehow nothing seems to be the perfect cure.

Take a walk

Here is the thing. I walk for at least half an hour everyday. So when I decide to take a creative walk, my system fails to see the novelty. I am full of purpose when I walk, but at the end of it, nope. Nothing.

Eliminate distractions

Since I have this interesting ability to look at things and think nothing, for hours, (remember those scary girlfriend videos of early 2000? Same expression.) I don't really know of distractions. And when i have a distraction - like a real, walking chocolate cake that I see only once in a while - then I put down my pen. Simple!

Play a game

I suck at playing games. I don't understand half of those walking, creepy looking things on screens of all kinds. No, I don't mean to say I don't like them. I mean it literally. i don't understand them. It's like Monica telling Joey about commitment and he keeps saying "Not following".

I am sure if I was a little more flexible and had a little more IQ, I would have done better. Will try the next three ways in the next three months. You guys have a great weekend there.

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"Not wearing the ubiquitous jeans and tee was never intentional for me. I grew out of them somehow, silently, unknowingly, over some United Colors of Benetton catalog.

I did get my fair share of questions. "Why do you always need to look different? And it's not good different my friend. You look like a 60 year old European teacher, who - to no one's surprise - is still single.

I love dresses and skirts and salwar kameezes. They are not reserved for special occasions for me. So I never bother with the make up. That explains the comments. Maybe. 

Coming back to jeans and tees, I am always clueless about styling them. Add a beret? Or throw in some hoops? Or maybe a sneaker will make everything alright? As I said, totally clueless.

I want to be that girl who looks effortlessly stylish in them. That girl will never be boring i guess. That girl will take out just two pairs of jeans every Sunday night and the rest of it will sort itself out. That girl will turn up on dates pretending she doesn't give a shit and still look like a million buck. 

That girl sounds just perfect.
........................................... ...... 

 Please follow me on GFC and Facebook and Instagram if you like reading the blog.

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She hurried down to that place in the corner
The happy place that opened at seven
With two tables out on the street
And a door that creaked and slid again

She worked the night shift 
And he took the eight'o clock train
They had an hour of love every morning
A love she thought was lost in vain

"Coffee for one?" asked the guy at the counter
"Make it two," the girl would say
She took the coffee and went to the shore
Before the waves hit, she heard a "hey"

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She dances around trees till her feet hurt. She wears flimsy sarees amidst snow-capped mountains. She recreates a male's idea of a woman's emotions, sensuality, ambition, evilness, anger...She recreates them like she owns them. She appears in the far right or far left of a movie poster, apologetic, supporting, modest.

She shows us how to look good, what to wear, how to pose for pictures. She makes the ridiculous look aspirational. She knows she is beautiful. She knows her place in the world. And yet she takes a backseat whenever asked. 

She obliges to her fans' selfie requests, answers to stupid, regressive questions of reporters, and trolled by people who have never met her. She is mocked for being too fat or too thin. She is loved and hated in surprisingly equal measure.

She is blacklisted for speaking up. She is called difficult for saying no. And just when you thought she had nothing to say, she takes the mic. She seems to be fearless. She stands in support of her tribe. She sometimes, just sometimes, cares less.

The Bollywood heroine has come a little less than a long way. 

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Please follow me on GFC and Facebook and Instagram if you like reading the blog.

Wish i could pose for pictures like a Bollywood heroine. Can't blame a girl for trying though.




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“Is there any room out there for a straight white guy like me?”

The actor is not the first one to feel threatened when others not of his kind take the centerstage even for a while. There is something about self-entitlement that fools the best of us into thinking it is normal. 

But that is not the worst. What is worst is a scenario where the sufferers, for a split second, think they had it coming. Years of conditioning, jokes that we were taught to laugh at, lies we were made to say to feel included and loved....they all give the odd ones amongst us reasons to blame ourselves  for our miseries. Some weird kind of closure. 

The color of our skin, the words in our prayers, the abilities of our limbs, the details in out anatomies, the human in our bed. They continue to define our lives, personal and professional.

While the bigger changes may take time to happen , it is the small ones that we should start rooting for at once. No laughing at LGBT jokes, no doppelganger bias while hiring, no sticking to the 15th century definition of normal. And last, but not the least, giving it back to the self entitled clan. 

 "Andy Samberg, you are in our room. Most of the times. Yes, it's not technically ours right now. But it could have been had you not straightwhitespread into everywhere, from restaurants to offices to Hollywood." 
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Yes, I know the text has got nothing to do with the pictures. I just wanted to make some noise while looking fashionable. Please follow me on GFC and Facebook and Instagram if you like reading the blog.







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The first time I saw a girl in headband was a few years ago. I was running my ass off on a beach and there she was, with a tanned face and a floral headband. It was an instant fashion inspiration moment for me. 

I told myself, " Face it. It does look a little over the top." But then I began saving headband style images on Instagram. From Gloria Swanson's huge, unapologetic headbands to Alexa Chung's understated, thin head accessories, I ended up making quite an inspiration book.

I forgot about them again. 

Then I saw Instagrammer Neha Paranjpe's feed. She was rocking them headbands. I realized that maybe the chickenshit inside me can try this trend afterall. Maybe it's not too much. "Face it, they make anyone stand out. And not in a look-at-me kinda way, but an I-know-my-shit kinda way," I said to myself. 

Neha helped me find what I was looking for and now there seems to be no stopping me. So this outfit is dedicated to Neha Paranjpe and that girl on the beach, whoever you were. I can only wish to be half as stylish as both of you. 

Please follow me on GFC and Facebook and Instagram if you like reading the blog.


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