SO random.

Little baby Zoya
Sat on the sofa
And stared with her big round eyes;
Her mommy said, "Zoe,
Would you like to tell a story?"
And she said
"Now why in the world would I?" 

Bye Bye, Birdie

Today is the day I lose a friend. The realization that should have come to me months ago, that has been spoken of and lamented without full comprehension, is finally here. Today she leaves this country to go home, to fearlessly prepare for a new life, new relationships and responsibilities. I am so happy that she is the first among our little circle to – please excuse the cliché – embark on this wonderful journey called marriage! But selfish being that I am, I can't help thinking of my loss - my friend and confidante, and my partner in crime for many, many years! I can't even begin to list the things that I will miss about her and our bachelorhood escapades. The ripples from this single event will affect all our lives, and something tells me that nothing is going to be the same.  

But - I'm a big girl. I can handle change and in the process, even be incredibly happy and excited about this wedding! I will always be around for her, eagerly waiting to share her joys and hopefully a minimal amount of sorrow. Because even though today is the day I lose a friend, tomorrow she will call me, excited about something trivial - some new jewelry she bought or something that her future husband said to her, and it will be the day that my friend will come back to me!  

He had a heart shaped face. His ears were as soft as a baby's cheek, and the white hair near his ears made him look like a wolf when he was a baby, and a wise old lion when he was all grown up. We always called him golden-brown, because brown wasn't special enough for him.

I dreamt the other night, that we found you again, and papa was playing with you like he used to. We were all so happy, but it was the saddest dream I have had in a long time.

You will never be forgotten, you will never be replaced. People might get tired of hearing about you, but I will never get tired of thinking about you.

Ha! Facebook is inundated with news and updates of people getting married. Literally, (by that I mean figuratively, of course) half of the people I know have gotten married in the past year, while the rest of us marvel at the rapidity with which the first half are acquiring spouses, and consequently, extremely satisfying lives. (yes, don't you know, it is always so.) I suppose there will come a time, when Facebook is outdated and "footbox" or "tomatomap" is all the rage, and the superior software will be programmed to tell you when a statistically significant portion of your friends has tied the knot and then automatically update your "About me" page to say "stubborn, old and unmarriageable."
Till then I say, "Ha!" because "Ha!" is about all I can say.  

Fairytale

When I was a little girl, like all little girls, I loved stories. My parents were never really into the whole “tell me a story” thing. They were more into the “here read this” thing. I discovered Ariel, Cinderella, Rapunzel, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, the Twelve Dancing Princesses, and all of the others. I am deeply grateful to Hans Christian Anderson, the Grimm Brothers, and Walt Disney. Without them, my imagination would probably have withered into a squash.

My issue with these stories, however, is that they got me hooked on one problematic idea. Prince Charming, that elusive knight-in-shining-armour-riding-on-white-horse type spectacle was ubiquitous in all of these stories that I was quite fond of. Bollywood, with its melodrama and unending romances, did not help the situation. As I got older, neither did Meg Ryan and Julia Roberts. I had unquestionable faith that the prince would come to me, someday, and that I would just know.

Of course no one, not even I, can escape some wisdom with a few years of experience. And what I have found is this - people find their prince, at least they think they do. Some people have to fight to be with their prince, and some of them give up. Some of them get married and are well on their way to Happily Ever After. I know now that love is magical, but the Prince is not. I’m not saying he’s not perfect – I’m saying he’s real, which in my opinion, is much much better.

So, yesterday I received two anonymous comments on an old post. They were really nice comments, and ok.. so they weren’t really anonymous, given that they left their names. But the same day there was a crow who, I swear, followed me from the bus stop to my house. Really, what are the chances of that happening? I feel extremely suspicious.  

Happy V-day!

Nothing says Valentine's Day like ugly, mismatched socks.