Judgy McJudgerson

Ever had that hair-raising, goosebumpy feeling, of having two eyes pierce down your soul? And just when you turn around, to catch their gaze, they look away? But it begins again in less than 5 seconds? Welcome to the world of Judgy McJudgerson. 

Married but don't wear a mangalsutra? Hawwww! Coloured and cut your hair so short? Hawwwww! Wearing dresses with sneakers? Hawww! It's time for the "Hawww" to STOP! My body, my choice!

Just because a woman is married, doesn't mean she has to look like a Christmas tree everyday. She can keep her hair as long as Rapunzel or as short as Peter Pan. Her choice! She is a girly-girl and a tomboy, so she can wear dresses with sneakers or saree with sneakers if she wants to. Her damn choice!

It's time for all the Judgy McJudgersons in the world, to snap out of it and grow the hell up. While women demand equal rights at workplaces, do they treat their own kind with dignity? I'm afraid not. It is women who put down other women everywhere. And I mean, literally everywhere! Be it at home, at work, at beauty parlours and even in the 2 second ride up the elevator. 

You don't have to squeeze out personal information from a person, however close he/she is to you. If someone wants to talk to you, they will. Poking and prodding incessantly, just makes you less approachable to them. When will people understand this?

I've never been clingy. I never call my husband during the week, even if all hell breaks loose. I don't understand clingy people. When people ask, "Oh no Gayu, how will you manage without Raj for the next two months?", or "Don't you feel lonely, with Raj in another city altogether", my response is, "Firstly, I'm not two years old. Secondly, if my mother in her early 20s could live all by herself in god-forsaken hill stations, plagued with panthers that too, had no clue about when my father would return or even where he was, I think I can survive in a metropolitan city." 

Being independent and staying in a positive frame of mind, is all in your hands. Man comes alone in this world and goes back to his creator alone. So, you could have 20 children and 5 husbands if you like, but you are alone in this world. And that, is completely okay. 

Stop judging, stop criticizing, stop prodding for information and most importantly stop with the incessant staring. It's not cool. NOT. COOL. 

Poetry In A Ceramic Mug

Four years since I discovered the bliss of sipping on thick, molten hot chocolate. My life has never been the same since that fateful, sweltering hot afternoon in Mumbai. Whoever says hot chocolate should only be had in freezing winters, should be shot in the head and punched on the face, twice, by Hulk.

Chocolate by itself is a divine thing. Imagine it being melted just the right amount, to give it that beautiful, thick, slurpy consistency which of course must be relished slowly and deliberately, in a pretty looking, thick, ceramic mug. I shiver just thinking about it. There’s nothing a well-made cup of hot chocolate can’t solve.

If only Adolf Hitler had been served hot chocolate during World War I and II, if only Ed Gein was given a cozy cuppa split seconds before he committed those heinous murders and closer to home, if only the Stoneman or even Gandhi Ji had one sip of hot, heady cocoa, countless lives could have been saved, wars could have ended and the history of mankind as we know it today, could have been re-written. Who knows! 

A well-made cup of hot chocolate, is potent. It lingers in your mouth and lives on as a happy memory, long after you’ve consumed it. You could even call it a beautiful dream, which you wish never ended. But end it does, unfortunately, like most things dreamy and too good to be true, in this cruel, unforgiving world. And all you can do, is wait helplessly for your next cup of steaming, hot, molten cocoa.

I’d like to believe, hot chocolate is 100% fat free, because it has zero carbohydrates. It’s always best to drink your calories, than to gulp it down, because then the fat flows straight out of your body, as opposed to accumulating in god-awful nooks and crannies, you didn’t even know existed. This is what I tell myself, each time, I drink a sinful mug. 

Whoever invented this glorious dessert, deserves nothing less than a global recognition. If ever mankind ceases to exist, hot chocolate is what we should be remembered by. This is our legacy to the world.