Tangled in Thoughts

Here it is, the last post of the year. As always, I am spending another New Year's Eve infront of my laptop listening to "Auld Lang Syne". Every year as midnight of 31st December nears, I wish I were doing something other than crafting personalized New Year messages for friends and family. But every year, that's what I end up doing anyway. It's become my favourite New Year's Eve routine now. The reply messages I get are almost always predictable. There is the plain "Thanks. Happy New Year!", the more excited "Thanksssss!!! Happyyeeee New Yearrrrrr, honey!!!" and sometimes the more festive ones sprinkled with emojis ranging from wine glasses to kissy faces. And ofcourse one or two "Time is just a construct made by us humans that doesn't have any effect on things, man! But anyway, have a good completely arbritarily fixed period!" It's the same every year.  But it's all beautiful. So why should this year be any dif

Romance is a weird thing. You can never know whether you're doing it right or not. You can only fly where your heart takes you and hope for the best. And I've been flying for too long now, still hoping for the best. The best part of falling head over heels for someone is the sheer absurdity of it and the thrill it gives you. A part of you tells you you're being crazy here and the other says life is all about being crazy and trusting your instincts. To put it simply, it's like a Heart and Brain comic. Except it's all a you versus you that happens here. I have had plenty of such talks with myself and each time the rational me tries to convince the erratic me that the whole act is based on a minuscule of probability of him reciprocating it, my conviction grows stronger that I should not let go. Minuscule or not, there is a probability and that's all that I need! Why am I writing this now? One day if I should feel sad about this,  one day if I should be rejected

If you are a person who wears bra, has an idea about the concept of cup sizes and has atleast once tried bra shopping in any textile store in Kerala, you will know what I am talking about. You know the drill. You go to any textile store and ask for a bra. It's a piece of clothing, how hard can it be to get a proper one? True, if you have no idea as to what your actual cup size is, you can go home with whatever the sales person tries to show you. But goodness forbid if you specify your required cup size, well there starts the trouble. The salesperson first gives you a look as though you just suggested something direly inappropriate. The next step is usually an awkward pause proceeded by the statement "We don't have anything in cup sizes other than A". If you are a bit fortunate they might have something in B. This is the point where you make a "meh" face, say thank you anyway and walk out. If the Gods are in your favour, the store might just have the