Sand In My Hair

Skinny kid hulks are debatably annoying.

The story of how sand now rests in my hair is a long and rather confusing one worthy of being told by science fiction writers and not lame joke cracking comedy ones (AKA me) but I will give it my best shot.

I previously mentioned that the kids in my neighborhood are a little violent (the whole sitting on the other to make him apologize) and I have been their targets many a time but they are always so little that I just carry them to a corner and give them a time out (this is not met with good response but who cares?).

Yesterday, it seemed like the same thing would happen when this tiny guy who bore resemblance to the hulk (assuming the hulk was short and skinny and in first grade) considering the slightest thing made him angry and he would fly at everyone if he was angry.

I tried telling him along with Sadhu that such anger at so young an age was not good for his blood pressure, cholesterol levels, etc but that caused him to rage more. Needless to say, the irony of that situation was not appreciated by anyone.

Anyway, this little guy started carelessly throwing minuscule stones at me which didn’t hurt but I found very annoying.

The Myth (refer to previous posts) told him to stop and I was about to thank him when he says this:-

“Don’t throw stones; Throw sand instead”

What kind of idiotic mind is this? Kid hulk idolizes the Myth and will do anything for him (no matter how much the rest of us try and make Kid Hulk see why The Myth is a lousy idol) so he takes sand.

I dodge and The Myth gets a faceful.

Kid Hulk tries again.

Myth gets a hairful.

Just as I was yelling something about ‘Karma’, this one kid who months before started using a fake accent (which I think is supposed to be american but would get him beat up if he ever went to america, no offense) and couldn’t get rid of it (so now WE have to put up with it and try not to throw sand at him), threw sand in my hair.

I may have mentioned my frizzy hair, er, once or twice?


Does anyone else believe I may have to change the name of this blog to The Hair Files?

One decided disadvantage is sand gets stuck in it very easily.

Today there will be a mass murder of little kids and guys my age alike. The mass murder yesterday failed as the only weapon I had was my hands (which were effective but not much) but today I shall return with a chainsaw.


(P.S- If you are wondering what was the reaction I had YESTERDAY, Kid hulk tried to start a boxing competition; I was about to give him a time out; The Myth held my leg and yelled at his minion to go; I kicked The Myth; My shoe came off; etc; etc)

(P.P.S- If you are the parents of Kid hulk and The Myth, then naturally I am joking. What kind of idiots do this?)

(P.P.P.S- Teens KILL each other in The Hunger Games. When you think about that this doesn’t seem so bad, eh? Call it ‘Football related injuries- only there were no injuries’)

What Happens When I’m Bored

Hey guys.

What’ve you been up to? Day before yesterday, my friends came over for this ISA activity and more time was spent in talking and in them playing some virtual game than actually doing the project. Luckily we finished it (almost, still need a couple more pictures).

Yesterday, I had to go to Golu to four houses which is actually more exhausting than you’d think as houses don’t like being easily accessible. Golu is to do with Navarathri (I believe I mentioned googling it in one of my earlier posts but anyway, google it as I do not feel like explaining it)

My friends are coming over tomorrow for another ISA activity. Next year, I am honestly going to think before I join two ISA activities.

Today, I am just lazing around. I watched the first episode of The Flash– Season 3 (which was very awesome) and then got to reading and doodling. I was reading Carry On for the second time (I do not know if you expected me to say thousandth but honestly, it is only the second time I am reading it cover to cover)

I doodled after that. I did this one sunset/sunrise thingy which was inspired because I was listening to Suburbia at that time and the song always brings sunsets/sunrises to my mind. I’m too lazy to take a picture of it though.

Then I became very jobless and decided to cover an entire page with quotes from Carry On. Not just from Carry On but also a few posts related to it from tumblr and two tweets from Rainbow Rowell. Here it is…


(btw, the green colored ones are from tumblr)

School starts again on Tuesday *insert sobbing emoji*

The evenings are becoming extremely boring as everyone has gone out of town and football is not fun when you’re playing with yourself. Also, in football, our old coach… well, to be honest we don’t have a clue what happened to him and we got two new coaches who are actually really good bur it’s killing me not knowing what happened to the old coach.

It’s my personal opinion that he’s secretly a secret agent and is on some mission but you don’t have to agree…

So, yeah, that’s all that’s been up with me. Sigh, I wish I was a superhero. My life is so mundane😉

Via xxx


Four Days In And I Have…

Found out that little boys like to hit people for no reason. And that their solution for getting the other to apologize is to sit on them until they say ‘sorry’. Ohhhh, I live in such a weird neighborhood.


Garbage Thief

“And what makes you think you are qualified for this job as robber, sneak thief, cat burglar and assassin ma’am? We take, you must understand, only the highest and most elite”

“Oh yes! I most certainly understand. What makes me qualified, you ask? Well, I was but 10 when I stole from a store, not one, but three entire rose petals which I then, heartlessly lost. And, my most memorable theft was at a family function when, right under the noses of not one, but fifteen people, I stole an empty wrapper. Now, if that doesn’t make me qualified, I must ask you, what does?”

Unfortunately, I cannot lie and say that I am not the second speaker. Nor can I lie and say, I have not performed those above two great acts of thievery. You see, I have the mind and instincts of a great thief and the heart and conscience of a snivelling scaredy cat. I am saddened to say that they are not the best combination.

Today, I went to a family function where there was very spicy food and a bunch of elderly and middle aged people talking. Everyone who wasn’t elderly or middle aged was found cooing over the baby.

Me? I do not fit in with the elderly (though they were very nice to me), the middle aged (mom, dad, if you do not like me calling you middle aged, well then, I am naturally not talking about you when I say middle aged) and I did not fit in very well with the college girl, the girl my age or the annoying/cute girl in primary.

Why? Well, my social skills are rather undeveloped. Although all the other ‘kids’ were very nice, I could not think of intelligent words to say. I laughed at their jokes. I grinned when I wasn’t laughing. I offered my name in this weird voice which always comes to me when I haven’t used my voice for long.

In reality, I was busy thinking of what the heck was going to happen to Eleanor and Park from, um, Eleanor and Park. You see, I am a terrible guest as I took along my Kindle (E-reader) and was busy in the magic of Rainbow Rowell’s writing. It was rather a shock when I looked up from a school bus to the faces of a thousand relatives.

Do not misunderstand me. I love relatives. It is possible to love something and be terrified of it. Example, I love dogs; I am terrified of them. Relatives pose the same situation. Heck, forget relatives. PEOPLE cause that situation. This is why I like staying in my room with friends as weird as me or with online people weirder than me (Just kidding, love y’all… don’t kill me)

After watching everyone try and get the very cute baby to move (he was so little. I liked the baby a lot as he was excellent company as Park showed up at Eleanor’s house. He was asleep on a kind sized bed and I had a little corner with pillows and blankets and everything. He slept; I read; There was AC. Bliss), my parents said it was time to leave.

I said a quick ‘bye’ to all my second and third cousins who smiled on the outside and rejoiced on the inside (their very weird cousin who resembled a goldfish was FINALLY leaving)

My parents were saying more ‘byes’ as I looked on the top of the refrigerator. I saw some very cute printed glasses, some money and an empty wrapper. My ‘thief’ instincts were awake.

I looked around. No one was watching. It was my chance!

My chance to what? To prove. To prove that I could survive in a post-apocalypse world! To prove I could survive on the mean streets! And to prove could. (Not that I could ever take something that didn’t belong to me. That will be verified as we continue the story)

I took two coins (which would have not been much use even if I had taken them forever as they would barely have bought anything) and carefully placed them back. My conscience would not allow me to remove the coins from the top of the refrigerator.

I considered taking the glass. This time my conscience did not allow me to even touch the glasses.

My instincts wanted me to steal. For PROOF. So I gave up, groaned in disgust and took the wrapper. Even then, my conscience was yelling at me. I convinced my conscience that it was a good thing as I had saved them the trouble of throwing it in the garbage.

Even then my conscience screamed things like “What if that wrapper is lined with gold?” “What if that wrapper is made of powder that is going to help a poor girl beat cancer?”

I firmly told it to shut up and put it in my bag. I felt like a total badass as I walked out. I felt like the guys (and girl) from Italian Job. 

I told my mom and dad about my great thievery. They burst out laughing.

I was deeply offended. I was even more offended as I realized I had not turned off the fan and my dad remarked that if I had stolen the money, it would have helped pay the bill.


(P.S- In that entire function, the most entertaining conversation I had went as follows:

Lady: Do you want some Thirukkanamudhu (indian sweet)?
Me: Oh no thank you, I am fu-
Lady to my left (ltmf): You don’t like?
Me: Nono! I lik-
Man to my right (mtmr): You’re not having?
Me: N-
ltml: She does not like it
Me: No, I lik-
ltml: How can you say you don’t like Thirukkanamudhu?
mtmr: *nods*

Ahhh, people)

Via xox


Long Live Freedom

Although the heading sounded solemn, this is, alas, just another one of my exam end celebrations.

SO relieved… until the results come out.

I, unfortunately, do not have any big plans for the holidays. Oh wait, I do! Lounge around, listen to music, read the 37 books on my Goodreads To Read list, write, draw, sleep and break The Myth’s head with his football.

If the last one seemed strange, allow me to enlighten you. ‘The Myth’ is the nickname we gave to this new boy in our block who’s really good at football and plays with us almost daily (refer to I look like Alessia Cara?)

Anyway, he got MY football stuck in the tree for the, wait for it, SECOND time.

If that sentence sounded weird, that’s because it is. I am aware that it is mainly shuttlecocks that get stuck in trees but the ego of some boys combined with their lack of common sense gets footballs stuck in trees.

Also, MY lack of common sense for not stopping it.

He was kicking it over the treetops. I tried once and WOULD have gotten it if I hadn’t moved and the ball hadn’t bounced off my shin. Ugh. I have kicked the ball onto the roof once but when it counts…

Anyway, after everyone laughed at my ‘effort’ he kicked it again and it got stuck on the trees highest branches. Or, that’s what I assume as we couldn’t see it (It was dark)

We left and I am going to try and get it tomorrow. Hopefully it will rain and the ball will fall down. Or else…

I plan to use these holidays. It is Navarathri though. Navarathri is an Indian festival. Google it for more details. I hope my mom won’t drag me to too many houses this time as I need REST. I need rehabilitation.

It’s like Sigourney Weaver from Finding Dory says: Rescue, Rehabilitation, Release.

Speaking of my mom, it’s her birthday today! HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM! Love you so much🙂

What about you guys? What’ve you been up to? Do you have any book, music or movie recommendation for my hols? If you do PLEASE mention it in the comments.

(I am typing from my mom’s laptop so for now, no GIF. I’ll see if I can attach one later)

Via xxx


The Equation Of Saturday

Hey guys.

I have conjured a, frankly perfect equation to describe the horrors of yesterday. Well actually, it was heaven mixed in horror. Here is the equation…

One Absent Minded person + One idiotic person (One Second Language Book + One Second Language Exam) + One focused driver – Anyone sensible + another Second language book + Another second language exam + One Uniform – One overcoat = HELP (Heaven)

Our school uniform is, without sugarcoating, BAD. It looks bad and it’s sweaty! It was fine last year. I mean it was uncomfy but decent to look at (unfortunately I firmly believe in ‘feel good; look good’ so I hated it with every fibre of my being).

They changed the uniforms for this year owing to the inconvenience the dupatta (shawl kinda) caused some students while running. I thought they would be sensible and change it to T-shirt and track pants which is a) convenient and b) doesn’t happen to make you look like a bog monster.

No, they change the dupatta to an overcoat (and now I look like a bog monster!)

*series of livid and bewildered gestures*

Anyway, yesterday was my second language exam. I was revising the morning so I left the house WITHOUT my overcoat!

I said bye to my father and travelled in the car with BOTH my mom AND Sadhu and not ONE of them bothered to tell me.

Sadhu told me after we reached school and my mom left.


When I asked her why the heck she hadn’t told me in the car, she said she assumed it was in the wash as nobody could be idiotic enough to remember their ID card and forget their overcoat.

… OUUUCH?!!?

BOTH the teachers who came for invigilation asked me what happened to it. I had to tell them I forgot. Adu, like an idiot, wouldn’t stop laughing.

Although I was humiliated, there was a silver lining…

It was SO comfortable and in MY opinion, DIDN’T make me look like a bog monster (idk what anyone else thought but y’know, my whole ‘feel good; look good’ thing)

So if any of my teachers or principal is reading this, I beseech you to change the uniform into track pants and T-shirt. Just, NO pinafore, NO skirt and if there is a salwar NO overcoat or Dupatta.

Also, remind me never to rely on my mom or Sadhvi to tell me anything.

If any of you have ever been this scatter brained, write it in the comments. I could use some knowing that I am not the only one who does stuff like this🙂


Via xox

Deep Mysteries

Well hello everyone! My name is-

OK, not such a great start. I cannot seem to get a suitable starting that is NOT something some YouTuber uses!

Anyway, I was checking my mom’s old blog. She stopped writing in it but she left up a few stuff I said/asked when I was 5-8…


“Why do people have phone if they cannot pick it up when it is ringing?”

– 7 year old complaining to her friend’s father about mom not answering her phone call to request for extra play time.

(This is very ironic as I NEVER pick up my phone)


7-year old:  Amma, please switch on the gear of the indicator* to clear the glass **
There goes any chance of having another mechanical engineer in the family.

(har har)


7 year old to mother:  Amma, if you want to have another baby, don’t worry about the work involved. I’ll take care of the baby fully.  You only cook. And clean the baby’s poop and pee.

(…still holds true mom)


Seven-year old to father:  How does amma’s stomach know that you and she are married to produce a baby?

(…mom? What did you answer?)


“Amma, like a girl can fall in love with a boy, can a girl fall in love with a girl?”
– 6.5 year old.

( As the song would say, “girls like girls like boys do- nothin’ new”)


“Appa, will there be something left underground when I grow up to become an archaeologist?”
-6.5 year old

(Laugh all you like. This was an honest, serious worry of mine)


“I hope  when I grow up, petrol gets over.  I want to ride a horse, not a car”.

(OK, some quotes are cute. Others are just, as Sheldon from TBBT would put it, “bat crap crazy”)


Well, that is it for now although I’m pretty sure I said a LOT more things.

I am pretty sure my parents did not answer most to these and I was like:



The Misplaced Cargo

Hi Internet (BTW, this is the last ‘Hi/Hello Internet’ because a) I’m getting bored of typing it and b) I don’t want to get sued for copyright reasons by danisnotonfire. JK on the second. No not really)

I was sorta bored this morning so I wrote this very weird, very short ‘story’. It’s called ‘The Misplaced Cargo’. Love you guys xx


Space ports were generally crowded. There had been a time where there were no space ports but that was in 2016. 3000 was the modern age and Koral was the modern galaxy.

Sunday was the busiest day of the week. This Sunday was no different. Well, it was a little different. The Universe United were awaiting a special cargo. They had been informed that it had been picked up by their ship Ariel and would arrive shortly.

Ship after ship arrived but there was no sign of Ariel. The representatives of Universe United who were waiting at the port were getting impatient.

Finally, the robotic voice announced the arrival of Ariel. The ship landed, automatically making a few hundred people (aliens to you and me but people on their galaxy) scatter. All Universe United ships had that effect.

The crane waited, ready to pick up the package.

The top hatch remained firmly closed.

A representative angrily stalked down to the ship and banged on the door. The pilot got out and urgently whispered something in the representatives ear. The representative promptly fainted.

The remaining representatives, who had caught wind of what was going on due to the fainted representative’s ear piece, burst into panicked yells and ran to the ship.

Meanwhile, a lone space ship was entering the Milky Way.

“Check the cargo hold and prepare for landing” said the captain in a bored voice. The captain felt no need to be excited. This was probably the thousandth delivery he was making and this time would be no better- he wouldn’t get credit, thanks or any form of recognition.

The ship hovered over the blue-green planet. Well, not so green. It was the year 3000. Dearth was very dimly populated. It also had a lot of holes in the atmosphere, very little greenery and not much water.

The captain was delivering more Oxygen.

At least, that’s what he thought.

“What the heck is this?” asked the UN representative staring at the machine in the cargo hold.

The captain was furious and confused. He had no clue how, whatever it was, had got into his cargo hold. He also had no clue where the Oxygen had gone. He prepared to get fired.

The machine whirred.

The representative walked towards it and, very stupidly in the captain’s opinion, pressed the blinking red button.

A blast.

The smoke cleared.

As the representatives of Universe United wondered what had happened to their machine, a blue green planet in the Milky Way was green again and had a perfect atmosphere.

As Universe United slowly started rebuilding their lost machine, a certain captain got a promotion and world-wide recognition.

Every night, two respective pilots and captains, one from UN and one from UU, wondered what in the universe happened to their cargo.

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I look like Alessia Cara?

Hello Internet!

I know I said I’m on hiatus but I’m a weak person who cannot sleep and so must type. But I have no clue what so I’ll just shortly tell this thing that happened today.

Today I found out that I apparently look like Alessia Cara according to a guy I play football with.

Is it a compliment if it’s followed with “She (Alessia) looks bad”

*great willpower holding back*

Is it ironic that Scars to your beautiful just got a video, is becoming a hit and is being performed everywhere BY Alessia and some dude tells me that looking like her is bad because she looks bad ergo look bad?

Is this what they call a backhanded compliment or is it an insult?🙂

Lel, I am honestly super flattered if I look like her because, c’mon, she’s a princess. So, thank you football dude!




(P.S- Boys are weird, weird people considering that before the whole ‘insult’, he told Sadhu that I was the best player in my team)

(Like, HUH????)