KhepiAri

#NoShaveNovember Last year when I was tweeting randomly, which I tend to do every now and then when I am super bored or drunk on queer rights, I found an interesting picture one of my tweeter followers had tagged me failing to identify my gender. It was an image of a standalone mass of hair, which reminded of Hagrid without a real facial outline and below I found the hashtag No-shave November. Without knowing the meaning, I forwarded the image to all my male buddies. As a result, few of them got interested in it and after reading about it on Wikipedia I figured what this celebration of beard was for. Which I assume most of us know it’s about spreading awareness about Male Cancer and Sexual Health, and you donate the money you saved without shaving for a month. By fifteenth of that month a year back, whole internet (people on my social media platform) was crazy, the men population, to be particular and many of my boyfriends were walking with their dark unkempt mane. ...

Photo Credit- To rightful Creator, I found it in google My fondness with dogs and other creature is a family heirloom that is encoded in my genes. The bag I carry to my university always has small packs of biscuits in it, I carry it thinking of possible what if situations- a long face, beady eyed creature comes wagging its tail at me? Or a hungry little puppy rolls at my legs, I choose to be prepared. Often at times those biscuits have even saved starving humans too after six hours of non-stop classes. Occasionally I have eye contacts with another species, the feline, they and I, we were match made in hell. They lock their eyes on mine and so do I on the marble eyes which they proudly flaunt when they are climbing up walls, running after birds or hiding behind the bush, we have our moments of mutual recognition and respect. The goats and the cows to seem to have found a spot in my heart, many a times I have chased them out of the garden with sticks for eating up the plants ...

On twenty ninth of last month, I finally did it! No you dirty minded reader buddies not that ‘did’. Yes you all who have been reading my blog for last four years, I did it, by you I mean both real life and imaginary readers I have. I finally travelled alone, alone in the sense where I had no parents with me or my elder sister and my brother-in-law but my best friend. My university loves festivals; hence I got a month long vacation. Now that my second sets of parents are no longer living in city of joy, I had no other option but return home. I so wish I had a cat loving aunt living in the hills. Alas I have to settle for a cat loving mom in the valley. And this woman who is my mother had conspired with her husband to assault me with food. In last one month I have been fed up to my brains, my once less bulging tummy is now flubbing above my waist band. My eight girl friends and I we had been planning on a girl trip before completing our undergrad to celebrate our passing ou...

On first October we turned four, this blog and the blogger. I had an aggressive desire to write on that very night and shout out we are four years old. But my blogpost on 30 th of previous month must explain why there was no such celebratory post. Today I have no story to tell or complain to rant about nor experiments in art and cooking to flaunt. I am no longer possessed by the feverish muse that had been playing with my mind a week back.  Yet I am in a celebratory mood, I am treading on the fine balance of nostalgia and subtle pathos. I have attained wisdom of fulfillment. When my Facebook profile picture suddenly changes into a fanart of two men in wedding kimono and my caption is a link to a thirty chapter long story published in a site called Fanfiction.net many are bound to question the special occasion in my life, trust my closest friends to be the last to twitch a brow. No, the ‘Pujos’ I hate this accent! So let’s re-frame it, the Puja season is not far f...

Today I am in ill condition. It is on these terrible days when my mind goes berserk with ideas and thoughts. I want to write, I want to jump around, I want to read, I want to do anything and everything. The  Networking and Wiring connectivity in my brain gets amplified and I become hyper aware of my surroundings. In other words in my sickness I become possessed by the divine Muse! Sitting with warped body in sheets and drinking green tea with honey & holy basil every hour has turned me cranky and lack of a proper outlet makes me go crazy. Here is a one-shot panel on my Own Condition. I have an exam tomorrow on  Critic as an Artist  by Wilde, and I have no idea how will I fare in that paper. So before I crumble down for mark churning pressure and rot up like a ostrich in desert.Lets laugh at myself.       P.S-  Time for another cup of Green Tea, forgive me for typos I am bit delusional  thanking you to bear with me ...

At twilight I peep out from the balcony and realize I ran out of my supply of bread and cucumber for next day’s lunch. Many people love food shopping in this world, among them my father is a champion when it comes to buying fishes. His ‘Bongali’ blood binds him to fish, every day he will go to bazaar and return with more than six overflowing poly-bags of fresh food items. Sometimes its avalanche of green leafy vegetables at other times coin sized fishes destined to cut down ones throat or simply an assault of snake gourds. Today it’s about my regular rant, my life’s biggest problem is with the word food, eons ago when I was a moving pumpkin I would devour anything given to me. I would relish it with such a pure conscious that my fragile heart was warmed up by layers of fat. Now that I am on proper BMI scale I dislike eating. So here I am sitting out on the balcony watching the sky turn dark and I expect the poetic mind to give some sweet words for my twitter poetry, but pops ...

Q-Why am I writing this post? A- To cheer up my dearest best friend who has been a weeping enough to flood her house and I want to end the chapter for her. (Ideas below are not mine own nor are the photographs) Right now I feel guilty, my match making skills are a gift from divine and so is my break up skills. Once up on a time my one sentence critique on love made girls break up with their lovers. I have stopped giving those careless criticisms now. But I do keep dabbling with making couples; the tendency to become Cupid has always been high in me. In my zeal, I bought two of my close friends together and things have unfortunately turned out sour. My oracle vision had only focused on the good parts but, I never saw past the honeymoon period. I believe in the honeymoon period and nothing after that. Yes an escapist view, but crucial for survival. Sadly people around me see beyond the honeymoon period and see too much of reality- Job, house, car, marriage, kids and death...