alice's peephole

I cant create mystical creatures that enthrall audiences. I cant sing epoch making stories of hapless lovers. I haven’t yet designed a new funky car. Heck, I cant even paint my bloody wall. Why is it that I want the very things I cant have? Why is it that I always want to be where I cant? Why do I always want more? Why am I always dreaming of better? Don’t try to console me. Don’t try to show me others are worse off. Because my pain is my very own, mine alone. You cant make it go away. But you can make it better. So just tell me what I must do. And tell me all I need to hear. Tell me that I’m not alone, That in loneliness we are all together

A job-hunt is like an interval at a movie. And when the first half has been so great that you find yourself at the edge of your seat, then the pressure’s really on! Being back in Pune after 7 months- it feels really weird. Considering that I’ve called it home for 21 years, it’s confusing to feel miss another city like you can only miss ‘home’. Physically, nothing has changed in Pune. Fergusson College road is still run over by students; MG and KP still have the same hang-outs. Yet it doesn’t feel the same- to me. Within a few hours of getting home, I jumped on my bike and rode all around Aundh. Soon i found myself at 'Vaish' along with my friends, all of us connoisseurs of their legendary South-indian and batata wadas. Not that Delhi doesnt have idli-sambar joints, it just isn't the same when the idli is soaked in ghee like a 'prantha' and sambar is so spicy that it makes your nose run. 10 minutes of waiting for a table, being nudged aside by impatient waiters, resi