When I was in school and college, the morning of an exam invariably meant I would have this tight feeling in my arms, and a pain in my left shoulder. I called them my stress pains. For the past few months, I've been having them almost perpetually, and for no good reason either.
The last few months hasn't been the best of times, as my various blog posts may have indicated. There's just been too much I've been trying to juggle, and sort out, and y'know, get it all together. I think I've gone soft even - the slightest bit of niceness makes me all weepy these days. Tchah, I say.
As a result, once again, I find myself needing to do a post of this kind. Without further ado, therefore, let us have the drumroll, and a list of things I like:
Second-hand books, with decades-old dedications written in a squiggly handwriting, and the lovely musty smell of old books.
Finding money in the pockets of a jacket I'm wearing after a long time.
Sweaters with long, loose sleeves that cover half my hands.
The torn winter jacket that my father bought for himself when I was a baby - I borrowed it when I was 15 and haven't returned it yet!
The sound of the princess drinking water.
As a result, once again, I find myself needing to do a post of this kind. Without further ado, therefore, let us have the drumroll, and a list of things I like:
Second-hand books, with decades-old dedications written in a squiggly handwriting, and the lovely musty smell of old books.
Finding money in the pockets of a jacket I'm wearing after a long time.
Sweaters with long, loose sleeves that cover half my hands.
The torn winter jacket that my father bought for himself when I was a baby - I borrowed it when I was 15 and haven't returned it yet!
The sound of the princess drinking water.
Compliments that come out of nowhere, which you know can't be anything but genuine.
An evening out with the gal pals - or even the guy pals actually. Both are interesting in very different ways!
People I've never spoken to in my life asking me why there hasn't been an update on my blog for two months.
The sudden crumbling of my writer's block, when the words coming gushing out.
Friends who worry about me more than I worry about myself.
The feeling of satisfaction when I manage to drill some sense into a friend's head.
The warm feeling when I wrap my hands around a cup of chai or soup.
Leaving the car windows down and feeling the breeze - especially if it's just after a spell of rain.
Saying "y'know which episode of Friends this reminds me of?", and having at least two people present bursting into giggles.
Realising someone who was just another acquaintance has become someone very important.
Looking out the window as a flight takes off or lands and trying to recognize landmarks in the city below.
Watching the Gurgaon skyline from the metro.
All such fun, no?
People I've never spoken to in my life asking me why there hasn't been an update on my blog for two months.
The sudden crumbling of my writer's block, when the words coming gushing out.
Friends who worry about me more than I worry about myself.
The feeling of satisfaction when I manage to drill some sense into a friend's head.
The warm feeling when I wrap my hands around a cup of chai or soup.
Leaving the car windows down and feeling the breeze - especially if it's just after a spell of rain.
Saying "y'know which episode of Friends this reminds me of?", and having at least two people present bursting into giggles.
Realising someone who was just another acquaintance has become someone very important.
Looking out the window as a flight takes off or lands and trying to recognize landmarks in the city below.
Watching the Gurgaon skyline from the metro.
All such fun, no?
4 comments:
Yeah ..the musty smell of old books ..and their slightly yellowing pages ...that must take the cake for me..and the friends' stuff...can totally relate to it...
That feel of second hand books is just so accurately described. I absolutely relate to it.
And the only reason I love the monsoons is to feel that warm feeling of hands holding a hot cuppa tea and being contemplative.:)
I like old books that belong to someone else in my family. But proper second-hand books... I don't like the thought of strange people touching my books and keeping them in their bags and dropping crumbs on them.
It's interesting how all of you have commented only on the bit about the books. Did anyone even go beyond the first thing on the list?
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