“So who’s the guy in your orbit?” Lol.

It is a liberating thought: Food is not necessarily consumption in the sequence popularized by your default culture, but a delicious mass that fills your stomach. That’s it. It could be anything, in any sequence, as long as it gives you a good feeling and a balanced vitamin intake. Once you’ve realized this, creativity presents itself: mixing random flavours, hunting down unheard-of spices from all over the world (available locally at your nearest Sainsbury, hehe), inventing courses around your favourite vegetables, questioning the aesthetics of a dish, crossing over between salad, curry and dessert, adding by instinct and judging by smell. “What if” explodes your palette, and in most cases, you end up with an “interesting” plate full of food. This circus makes for good self-entertainment, especially after a hard day at IDE!

“What if I had never met you?”

I love surprises, especially the kind that involve intellectual conversations with a stranger at random locations. Waiting for a delayed flight in Ahmedabad, I knew I had one coming my way as soon as a middle aged lady, dressed smartly in a crisp white starched saree, asked me: “May I have a look at your book?” “May I”, I noted. As we dove into conversation, I gathered that she had studied at IIMA more than 20 years ago for an MBA, worked for various firms as a consultant and was currently managing a university. She was sharp, articulate, enormously successful, intimidating, and ambitious. She was proud of what she had achieved, was a self-made person, and had clear goals for her future. Just when I was about to burst into tears for the inspiring picture she was painting for me, there it was: “...you see, I’m unmarried.” OMG. Why, why? I remember being monumentally relieved when I realized Varna Dhar was married – that was the first question on my mind after I learned that she was a Harvard Graduate. And even today, when I realized one of my friends works for Apple, I was overjoyed the first moment, and deeply concerned the next. This is both absolutely mental and severely disturbing. I know more than one woman that I feel for; but I also know those that have partners! I have to, I just have to, believe that there is hope.

“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”

“It seems that men can get out of a relationship without even a goodbye, but apparently women have to either get married, or learn something.”

There is no such thing as ‘perfect’. That word has no meaning in the real world. Not in the context of personality, situation, choice, food, or life itself. It only exists in dreamland and virtual reality: it is a tool used against us in a deeply capitalistic society. When everything around us tries to tell us that we’re not what we should be, it is a powerful feeling to realize that you don’t have to be what someone else thinks you should be. You just don’t. What matters is what’s important to you, and whose expectation you’re trying to live upto. Your own? Your partners’? Your parents’? Life is about making the mistakes, and consciously learning with time. Charlotte’s “oh, it’s not perfect yet!” speech is really annoying me.

Associating India with ‘colour’, ‘culture’ and ‘bollywood’ has been a common theme in England, but when I heard a man couple the name of the country with ‘arranged marriage’, I was taken aback. This is a new development. To my “I’m from India”, he replied with a “Oh, I hope you won’t be forced into arranged marriage! Don’t hurry your life decisions like that, take your time.” And this is the conversation between me and the salesman at Carphone Warehouse, the junkyard of gadgets. India needs an image-makeover.

My nose is trying to fall off my face.

I have missed being alone. I realize this now, enjoying the silence in Ala’s house, all by myself in this beautiful, beautiful house. My body is conversing with the exposed concrete ceiling, agreeing with the full height windows and commending the stark white walls. I am enjoying being the only mobile thing in this flat, peacefully hearing myself breathe. It seems like a luxury, in one of the world’s most expensive cities, to be able to hear yourself think. It’s not too late yet.