tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-188252232024-03-12T19:46:11.299-07:00Mindful Musingsalways been fond of writing i have, so i joined the bandwagon...The Entropy of Smruthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01676249848651244744noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18825223.post-45479681728796875632023-10-20T05:21:00.001-07:002023-10-20T05:21:38.187-07:00Ode to a StrangerIt was a long Geneva- Rome – Delhi – Bombay flight. I was 12 and bored. Sitting in a completely different part of the airplane, far away from my parents and brother, my ADHD ridden mind was going completely haywire. I remember having finished Anna Karenina and the in-flight magazine and three glasses of juice and being irritated out of my skull. We were stranded in Rome for about an hour and The Entropy of Smruthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01676249848651244744noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18825223.post-13294391711267420702008-10-08T04:28:00.000-07:002023-10-20T05:13:55.846-07:00Tribulation Of An Arranged Marriage - The Men - 1Consider this. For the last three years, my mother would finish all her work by the break of dawn. She would then perch her glasses on her eyes, set a glass of lemonade at the desk and start the grueling task of locating random potential husbands for her first-born daughter. In spite of all the experience and the prep, there is no guarantee to the results. Far from it. Maybe it’s the severe lack The Entropy of Smruthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01676249848651244744noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18825223.post-2932467234064113642007-10-19T00:16:00.000-07:002023-10-20T05:14:21.355-07:00Tribulation Of An Arranged Marriage - The SettingWhen I was younger, I had deadlines. Guy friends left at nine promptly; if I was out I needed to be home by ten, tell them where I am every 45 minutes and no car ever. Now if I’m with a PH (Prospective Husband Type) I get the car, no curfew and complete privacy. If I ever make the mistake of calling home, I’m told to hang up immediately as I was offending our esteemed guests. Sometimes I get theThe Entropy of Smruthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01676249848651244744noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18825223.post-75939890901075901082007-10-17T14:37:00.000-07:002007-10-17T14:44:11.349-07:00Wonderland, InterruptedShe walks in beauty. I noticed her at the Lakme Fashion Week and wondered how I could have forgotten she was going to be there. She has the characteristic stride of someone who has been doing this a while. I loved the way she held a pose and whipped around to walk back. But something had changed. I loved a lot of things about her. I loved the way she swung her shoulders back confidently and The Entropy of Smruthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01676249848651244744noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18825223.post-53810136435967421012007-10-07T22:45:00.001-07:002023-10-20T05:14:50.161-07:00Arrange Marriage Tribulations. The Beginning(This one’s got several parts. Watch this space)Apart from the complete mortification of admitting that you haven’t met someone by yourself and letting your folks find a guy for you, there is so much more to arranged marriages. More mortification. One of the subjects they should teach in school is how to nab someone and hold on to him. I'm sure this will save much trauma and therapy in later The Entropy of Smruthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01676249848651244744noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18825223.post-80279877360070232202007-06-18T07:20:00.000-07:002010-03-11T06:31:07.099-08:00Superman's DaughterI miss my daddy. We live in the same house in the same city. I see him every day, we share a meal together but I miss him terribly. Like I mentioned before I hate growing up.Achchan is Malayalam for father. My father never let us call him anything but that. For the longest time, my achchan was my hero, my Superman. Still is. He’ll probably scoff if he read this but its true. Maybe its because The Entropy of Smruthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01676249848651244744noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18825223.post-53095577250703155812007-04-25T04:39:00.000-07:002007-05-07T01:06:32.737-07:00SmruthyIt was a friend who triggered the thought, the excited phone crackle of a first time mom talking about her new baby’s first step. Yes, EspritNoir (www.espritnoir.wordpress.com) it right. It’s true enough. We do focus on all the firsts. Some may say it’s the inherent nature of being positive. Perhaps. But anyone who knows me will agree that I am far from positive. I am cynical and fatalistic The Entropy of Smruthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01676249848651244744noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18825223.post-1159433032517555352006-09-28T01:38:00.000-07:002006-11-24T05:18:21.026-08:00Auf Wiedersehen... vielleicht...I wonder what its like, to do something for the last time. I wonder what goes through the head of individual when they realize they are doing something for the last time. Dead men walking the green mile, a mother letting go of a stillborn baby, a doctor watching a patient dying, unable to do a thing about it. It must hurt. And yet, one can take consolation in the fact that they have known, that The Entropy of Smruthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01676249848651244744noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18825223.post-1148632331532803242006-05-26T01:26:00.000-07:002007-01-14T04:23:18.730-08:00The Story of SteffiWe brought someone back with us.” Mahsa looked at me apprehensively as she said this to me. Katherin looked pretty apprehensive too. Since like most Europeans I knew, they were sympathetic towards all gods’ creatures, I was sure they lost their heart to a little chimp or a lame puppy on the street or something to that effect. Hell, they had just driven back from Goa only a few hours ago. I The Entropy of Smruthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01676249848651244744noreply@blogger.com3