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The one thing I can do.

(Photo by Natalie Grainger on Unsplash)

It’s pretty apparent I have been letting myself go for a while. I’m not very tall — 5’5” if I don’t slouch — so the extra weight shows. Folds exist where there were none before. I make this ungainly “unff” sound after climbing a flight of stairs. And my knees. Oh, my knees are writing angry letters to the editor.Continue reading“The one thing I can do.”

Off my lawn, you whippersnappers!

(Photo by Kevin Lehtla on Unsplash)

Lately, I’ve noticed myself changing and not for the better. I’m crabby even after my caffeine fix, and I frequently catch myself loud-sighing when things don’t go my way. Life’s minor annoyances irk me to no end — looking at you, Mr. Lexus, who thinks it is acceptable to go 50 mph on the express lane, despite my polite honking. I’m not even 40 yet, which means menopause is years away, so that can’t be an excuse. But a tiny throbby vein is setting up permanent residence on my temple, and try as I might, I can’t douse the prickly fire burning in my lower belly. If I was at one of those meetings, where everyone says a few words about themselves, I would go, “Hi, I’m Pavi, and I hate most things, including meetings like this one. Also, stop staring at me, Brenda. What, you’ve never seen a woman show up to work in yoga pants? Sheesh.” Continue reading“Off my lawn, you whippersnappers!”

Soulmates.

They say “sex sells,” but I disagree. If I want to peddle something, it makes little sense to go the skimpy bikini route. Instead, I find myself a wholesome couple – conventionally attractive, yet relatable and normal. I then throw them into an impossible situation and wedge my product/service in there somehow. The scientific formula for the ad would be:

Quagmire + my product/service = violins playing as the couple walks off into the sunset, fingers, and hearts entwined. Ah, they’re soulmates!Continue reading“Soulmates.”

Silence is underrated – an absurd walk down memory lane.

(Photo by Quino Al on Unsplash)

My sister and I were reminiscing yesterday, mostly about my grandpa and his sheer badassery. A stringy beanpole of a man, grandpa (or Thatha as we called him), was a force of nature. Bright, articulate, and an absolute whiz at crosswords, he introduced us to Shakespeare and Wodehouse, the latter birthing in him a fondness for puns and wordplay. He was loaded with self-deprecating anecdotes — his favorite was the one about how he was napping after a huge lunch when India won independence from the British Monarchy. He loved the sillier side of life and was my best friend and confidante growing up.Continue reading“Silence is underrated – an absurd walk down memory lane.”

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