Tagged - Facts About Me :P

I have never done one of these before, but there is a first time for everything. So here it goes. Thank you Megha for tagging me and giving me this opportunity.
Some Useless Facts About Me:
·         What is your current obsession?
How  I Met Your Mother.. I am so obsessed with it, that a lapse of even one episode becomes the impetus for my distress.
·         What are you wearing today?
A smile! Thats my favourite attire.
·         What's for dinner today?
Banana and Mandarins (No I am not on diet, I am just being lazy in the facade of eating heathy)
·         What's the last thing you bought?
Eggs, Bananas and Joghurt! Oh wait, I also bought glass beads of diameter 4-10µm, 12mm cover slips, Poly-Lysine and fluorescently labelled BSA. (Its alright to not know what these things are.)
·         What are you listening to right now?
Ab Mujhe Raat Din – Sonu Nigam
·         What do you think about the person who tagged you?
I do not know her personally. But her blog reflects her personality. She is an amazing blogger with a taste for the zing. She also has a cool photo blog.  
·         If you could have a house totally paid for, fully furnished anywhere in the world, where would you like it to be?
I would want it to be on wheels, or (preferably) with wings so that I can whiz to my favourite location according to my mood :D To have the perfect view, the perfect weather, the perfect people.
·         What are your must-have pieces for summer?
Sunglasses :D  
·         If you could go anywhere in the world for the next hour, where would you go?
To the beach, warm sand at my feet and cool breeze in my hair J
·         Which language do you want to learn?
I love to learn languages. I know quite a few, but Latin and Hebrew are my dream  languages.
·         What’s your favourite quote?
Numerous.. But I shall share a few.
“The most important things in life aren't things!“
“Look at life through the windshield, not the rear-view mirror.“
“Life is the art of drawing without an eraser.“
·         Who do you want to meet right now?
My best friends and my cousins. Its been a long time since I last saw them.  
·         What is your favourite colour?
Black, Red, and Turquoise
·         Give us 3 styling tips that work for you.
Huh.. no idea.. not really the stylish types.  
·         What is your dream job?
Dream job.. no job would be my dream job. As much as I love science, reading and a number of other things, I love to do things independent of deadlines.
·         What’s your favorite magazine?
Haven’t read magazines in a long time now.. But Reader’s Digest used to be my favourite.   
·         If you had $100 now, what would you spend it on?
Not sure.. Maybe a cool music player.
·         What do you consider a fashion faux pas?
Weird coloured eye shadows :P
·         Who according to you is the most over-rated style icon?
Kareena Kapoor
·         What kind of haircut do you prefer?
·         What are you going to do after this?
Probably have dinner and watch random stuff.  
·         What are your favorite movies?
They are many more than I have space and patience to mention here.
·         What inspires you?
The world around me is inspiring. Every new dawn brings inspiration. The sunset gathers new motivation.
·         What do your friends call you most commonly?
Whoa.. tonnes of nicknames.. Isha, Mots, Anny, Teddy Bear etc.
·         Would you prefer coffee or tea?
Tea – with milk and sugar , the British way or actually ‘The Indian Way‘
·         What do you do when you are feeling low or terribly depressed?
Try to cheer myself up.. what else!!
·         What makes you go wild?
·         Which other blogs do you love visiting?
All of my bogger friends. I love exploring new blogs too.. some of them turn out to be unexpectedly good.
·         Favorite Dessert/Sweet?
Oho.. my favourite question! All of them.. Gulab Jamun, Barfi, Halwa, Jalebi, Black Forest Cake, Strawberry Mousse.. and the list goes on.
·         How many tabs are turned on in ur browser right now?
Seven. I am a super multi-tasker J
·         Favorite Season?
Winter In India and Summer In Europe
·         If I come to your house now, what would u cook for me?
Oh whatever U like.. I can manage most things.  
·         What is the right way to avoid people who purposefully hurt you?
Greet them with a smile J They would be forced to smile back at you.  
·         What are you afraid of the most?
Cockroaches, spiders and all such creepy insects (Yes, I am a GIRL girl.. Go on make fun of me. I may fight Dinosaurs and Lions but I will go bonkers when braced against a swarm of cockroaches.
·         When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought?
I need more sleep.. and maybe a holiday :P
·         What brings a smile on your face instantly?
Friends.. a simple‘hi from them, their love or just a thought.
·         A word that you say a lot?
WOW.. I think thats the word I say or actually write most often.  
·         When was the last time you did something nice?
Nice.. does feeding mice count? Or no.. wait.. I joined the roar for ‘Saving The Tiger
·         What would you do if you were made President of India for one day?
There are tonns of issues to deal with. One day would be too less, so I would just lean back and enjoy the Power.
·         Do you Know who Master SHIFU is?
Of course!! He is funny. But Panda is better.
So now to do the rituals I shall tag some of my friends and/or blog-friends. If you despise tags and them as a farce, then you are excused. If not then I insist that you complete this tag and share with the world all the useless facts about you. Cheers.
And they are..


I am Coby and I am in love with the forest. The dense verdant canopy which forms a sky underneath the sky, the splashing and cascading river with pellucid water which forms a life underneath life are so fascinating. The fragrance of the wild flowers, the droning of bumblebees and the twittering of birds, soar my spirits. I have not been in this world for too long, but since the time I could rise on my feet, I have been galloping around all over the forest with Lily, while Mother gathers food for us. I know every nook and corner of the forest like the back of my hand. Lily is younger and dreamy. Mother has apprised me every now and then to defend her from all the imperceptible threats that lay in our way. How I love the adventures in the forest. Every new day I learn something new, a new mystery unfolds before me.
But I am aware that I am born into difficult times, a time of crisis. The enemy are out there to get us, all of us. Mother has designated them with the epithet of ‘The Destroyers’. They have wrecked many forests and slain many of us. Every night before going to bed, Mother recites to us the tales of courage and valor of our forefathers. But both of us know that the best story was that of Father, of how his bravura succumbed to the prevarication of the cunning and formidable enemy. He had renounced his life to keep us secure. How I covet to step into Father’s shoes and take care of Lily and Mother. Everyday I scrutinized my reflection in the river, but I look nothing like Father. I still look like yesterday, short and callow.
One misty and gray afternoon, I was roused from my catnap by a boisterous bang somewhere close by. I heard queer voices but I had no idea what all this was about. Mother had cautioned me of such recondite circumstances. I looked to my side, Lily was still fast asleep. The clandestine clairvoyance in me took over. Carrying Lily gently, I moved to the arcane site by the prodigious ‘Peepal tree’ we had discovered few days ago. We sheltered there until evening, waiting for Mother to return. Dusk turned into night, but there was no sign of Mother. The enemy was everywhere. I had never seen them before. They appeared bizarre and eerie. My anxiety escalated and we were growing restless. I could not fathom what they may hanker from us. Why they were bent on obliterating each one of us.
As these thoughts fleeted across my mind, I caught a glimpse of Mother. Her majestic and beautiful embodiment, now lifeless, was being carried away by the biped and ‘more civilized’ enemy. The sun rays reflected from her golden pelage. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I had to be persistent and tenacious. I had to fend Lily. Lily let out a dismayed moan. The moan set the enemy on our trail. I knew the enemy was stronger, faster and smarter, so we had only one choice, the choice of ensconcing ourselves. Since then we have been migrating from one covert site to another, leading our nomadic lives in fear of the two-legged enemy. Sometimes we go for days without food and sometimes we spend chilly nights on callous rocks. Scared… Lost… Lonely… Is that the life for us? I hope I can fend Lily until she turns into a graceful and magnificent ‘tigress’, just like Mother. The impetus for such barbaric acts by our more civilized and ‘humane’ peers still evades me. But I survived, at least this time I did.

PS: Coby survived this time, may be not next time. There were so many others who didn’t survive. There are so many others who won’t survive. There are just 1411 left. It is time to take action and raise our voices for preserving our national animal.
Scared.. Lost.. Lonely.. It is not the life for our tigers. Learn more and join the roar here.
We were not blessed with higher functioning brains so that we can threaten the existence of every other thing created by God.  We were empowered with exceptional cognitive and intellectual skills to protect and preserve the flora and fauna complementing our existence. By our selfish and ignorant actions we are not just mutilating other living beings and our mother earth, but we have damned ourselves to the perils of nature. And there will come a day when mankind will cease to thwart nature’s wrath.

Image Courtesy: Deviant Art

What If..

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 7; the seventh edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

He glared at the languid silhouette in the corner of the capacious hall, rage and fury flaring in his eyes. The pain was unbearable. An excruciating force was gripping his heart. He was too numb to feel. He clasped the machete so tight that his knuckles turned blue from lack of blood. His forehead and elbows were badly bruised from the clash earlier. But the agony and distress within him was making him callous on the veneer.
Crouched in the corner of the tenebrous hall, she shuddered. She was too shaken to cry out. She whimpered under her breath. She had never seen him like this before. The light from the streetlights reflected on the edge of the machete. Drops of blood trickled down the slick blade, spotting their new beige carpet. She wanted to fall on her knees and cry out. But something within her refrained her.
As he staggered towards the silhouette, bits of his past flickered through his eyes. The first time he had caught a glimpse of her he knew that she was person he would grow old with. She was the person he would sit on the porch with and look at stars in a clear night sky. She was so naïve yet exotic, so serene yet vibrant. When he had confessed his love to her, she had coyly nodded her head. Few months into courtship, he had proposed marriage and she had graciously consented. Two weeks later, they had tied the knot and moved into their Home, this house.
The blood tainted beast masqueraded by darkness, closing up on her, did not resemble the charming young man she had married. Those bloodshot flaring eyes were nothing close to the alluring eyes the love of her life had. A fiend had taken over her angel. The first time she had seen him, he had approached her with a bunch of white lilies, her favorite flowers. He had instantly stolen her heart. She was heads over heels in love with him. But she was dreading the moment, the moment when she would have to disclose the truth about her. Her anxiety coerced her to tuck her past away.  
He gazed at the frail crouching form in the corner. For a split second, his gaze was softened by the love he harbored for her. But a voice in his head bellowed at him. “She is a seething liar. She has used her cloying demeanor to allure other men into your Home.” Hatred and fury flashed in his eyes. He couldn’t believe his own thoughts. But his eyes couldn’t have deceived him. Today he had waited in anticipation outside the house for his adversary to arrive, the machete on his side. He had his moments of diffidence a few days ago. Today was the denouement.
She had been in an impasse ever since that anonymous man had showed up at their doorstep. Her better half was away for work.  He was in his late 50s, with a Porsche and a receding hairline. He seemed weirdly familiar to her. He showed up more than often at her doorstep, always in the absence of her husband. He offered exorbitant gifts and flowers. She spurned them all. Today he pleaded for a few moments to spend with her. That she couldn’t evade. She faltered. The predicament became leaden. He was the man who had compelled her mother to..
 “You Ho’! I won’t be fooled by you anymore.” He spurted out.
..compelled her mother to take up prostitution. That man was her Father.
He had felt an eerie gratification, a queer abatement of his agony as he had slashed the throat of his adversary. He had granted them no time to comprehend. Her dazed expression could not veil her agony. That infuriated him even more. In that instant he had committed himself to..  
She could see his rage going wild. Her mind and body were incapacitated. The remorse and lament held her back from elucidating and justifying herself. She had resigned to her fate. It was her redemption for keeping the truth from him. He moved faster across the hall. He hovered over her and heaved his arm. She peered at him for the last time, her eyes filled with tears. Before the machete could slash into her flesh, there was a deafening bang,
The machete was heaved high up in the air, all set to carve through her tender flesh. Before it could reel down, there was a smoldering pang in his back. He could feel the crimson spread across his clothes.
His lifeless body slumped on the ground. She couldn’t endure the pain in his eyes. He was still breathing. His breaths were short and he was gasping for air. She wailed at the top of her voice, “He was my father. But I had nothing to do with him. I loathe him. Why did you do this.. I loved you, I still love you and I will always love you.”
Each word lacerated his soul and severed his heart. He could feel his life drain out, but more than that he felt  remorse for his judgments, actions and most of all, his temper. His anguish and hatred flowed out with his cardinal fluid. His eyes were teeming with tears. It wasn’t for the pain or the fear of death. It was sheer despair. Despair at segregation from his Love and only he himself was culpable for it.
As she watched the cops take away his lifeless body, the only thought that she could conjure was that now she had a lifetime ahead of her, a desolate and solitary lifetime, to speculate.. to speculate What If..
What if.. she had confided in him? What if.. she had shared with him the trepidations of her heart? What if.. she had relied on him? Perhaps he would still be with her and they would have had a beautiful life together.
As he succumbed to his injuries, the last thought he had was regret and lament. “What if.. he had the fortitude to confront her? What if.. he had believed in his faith? What if.. he had harnessed his temper? Maybe he would still be with her and they would have had the life he had dreamt of. What if..

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Image Courtesy: Deviant Art

18 Till I Die

With the culmination of another year in my life approaching, I have started ensuing prominent signs of ageing. The most obtrusive one being incessant rants and diatribes about the growing number of candles on my cake. Not literally though, as I don’t really have a cake or candles on it anymore. It’s just too frivolous. But if I did, the cake would certainly be way too teeming with candles.
But I am not down in dumps or sullen about it. At times I might be in a pensive mood, but the present transcends over the past. And the occasional rants are more an aftermath of the atrocities of the present rather than the state of my mind. After all, I am not that venerable or ancient yet. I am barely.. umm.. lets say ‘Twenty Something’.
Growing up is as natural as nature itself. Mellowing of flowers into fruits initiates life. As kids, we always hankered to grow up, to lead an independent life and make our own decisions. Adulthood seemed like a mark of liberty, liberation from parental administration. But then, we only discerned the privileges. The attached strings remain inconspicuous, until one day, when reality strikes. We realize that that there are greater laws to abide by. Growing up brings with it dreams to achieve, responsibilities to render and expectations to meet.
Looking back we reckon how effortless and conducive life had been as kids. Requisition or not, anything we sought, we could turn to our parents and adjure for it. Once across the bridge, we long to retrace our steps, to forsake our nerve-racking lives and revert to the genial wombs of our mothers. But again, the present transcends over the past.
So reeling back to the present, Time is mercurial and Life is capricious. But life should not be about rants and regrets. Life is a collage and it is up to us to fill it with vibrant colours or shades of gray. I choose the former. And the present is not that abominable either. There might be some deadlines to meet, bills to pay, dinners to cook and dishes to wash, but there are also the late night parties, ‘exotic’ beverages and everything forbidden. Above all is the euphoria and pride of self-satisfaction and achievement.
Numbers are insignificant to me. 25, 15, or 35, the zeal in life should always be conserved. Age is accounted not by the years lived, but by the milestones achieved. Once in a while, I pause and ponder if I missed out something. But it is never too late for anything new. The neurons in my brain might have formed a few more synapses, but the muscle cells in my heart pump just as loud as before. So I shall hereby refrain from counting my birthdays. Henceforth birthdays shall only be an alibis for celebrations and revelries for my growing wiser and happier. :D     
Life is bizarre. Life is terse. It will veer with time, for better or worse. I have turned around the time lever. I will be vernal and sparkling at heart forever. 
I will be 18 till I die.

“It sure feels good to be alive,
Someday I’ll be 18 goin’ on Fifty-five.
Till the angels come and ask me to fly,
I’m gonna be 18 till I die.”
                                                                                           ~Bryan Adams