Bhutta is FINALLY here!!!!

After months of  greedily sticking my head out of the car window during our drive along the MPEB road , hoping,  yet not daring to do any more than hope , to see a bhutta stall by the road side , with its romantic spiral of smoke spreading the familiar, musky 
smell, I've finally been rewarded for my patience. 

The masala chana vendor has a new neighbour; most of the sabji wale have brought out their stock of firewood and those funny little steel tubs , which ,  as far as i know, have no designation in english , and go by the generic name of "Tasla" in hindi ; the air near their hand carts is heavy with musky, delicious smoke...to summarise, life is only savouring (or anticipating the savouring ) the smell and taste of bhutta. 

However, with the mouthwatering pro of corn , tag along the inevitable cons . The flies try hard to mislead you from your path of salvation , the brown faced kids will rob you of all your spare change and parents will , inevitably, make excuses and cite complex time space relationships to justify their apathy towards the cause you've espoused.   IGNORE THEM ALL ! Let nothing distract you from your goal . Stay faithful to The Corn , and The Corn shall give you the strength to overcome all obstacles.  

With these words, I shall let you experience for yourself the wonders of corn ...I wish not to lessen your wondrous joy by revealing too much at this early stage. Munch On !!!

To my school, my haven, my sanctuary.

I miss the comfort of the familiar landscape, the buildings, the trees and the crisp cool air that would greet me when I rushed in 5 minutes late everyday.
I miss running around the field, hiding away all the unpopular badges in my pocket and rubbing my sneakers with chalk to make them look clean .
I miss sucking up basic solutions into my mouth and spraying myself with acid every Thursday .
I miss strutting about in my navy and white uniform, the eternal rage.
I miss going around with nothing more than my latest imaginary heartbreak on my mind to weigh me down.
I miss standing outside the monotonously clean classrooms with their stray abandoned canvases and oil paints, more often than not mine.
I miss being me.

Erm...post 1 ?

I'm not writing this because I write well, or because I enjoy writing . I'm putting myself through the agony of squinting at a computer screen at 11:21 PM because I realised there are things I don't want to forget. Talking about such things only makes them seem insignificant and trivial , and life is too cruel to allow you to reminiscence and retain what you want to.