Living Teal

Rain drops settled on the large glass window next to her workstation. She peeped up to find that it had become dark. Grey clouds looming over a cobalt sky. She hadn't realised that it was late. Her tired eyes could see the glitter on the crammed street below. Cars stuck one next to the other as the two wheelers played maze in whatever little of the space was left in between. The traffic was patient tonight, not much honking. They knew the ritual. She leaned over the computer to see how lone she was- everyone usually disappeared at the first sight of the grey skies. She didn't blame them, that was only the sensible thing to do. The three of them were the last ones to leave from their floor. They always left together. As they started dragging themselves towards the car, she waited at the entrance shade. She would run straight into her seat once the car was unlocked, avoiding as many of those icy raindrops on the way as possible.  Once settled, they took a turn and calmly waited ...

It was a smoky room filled with indistinct chatter, occasionally broken by the notes of shrieky laughter and the characteristic clang of contention. Dark and dimly lit, it glared in its opulence, mirroring the energy of its occupants. The Whys walked in with a gait peculiar to the aristocracy, as, a not-so-famous second cousin of Who, got up to greet them with shiny eyes, a wide smile and sweaty hands. Quietly moving towards their preferred seating- a pine velvet sofa in the corner having just enough light to read, they were about to get their evenings started, when a group from the other side rose up to clink their glasses bringing everyone's attention to them... What is art? Is it a frivolous luxury entitled to the elite? A conversation starter for the intellectuals? A status symbol for the wannabe elite? Easy money for the seasoned charlatan?  Or a sense of purpose for the disoriented? And what does that, what is considered as art, mean? Obscure monochromatic patterns that a com...

Hi all, I am T! I used to be the nicest girl out there- the spitting image of miss goody two shoes, when I felt that life gets boring that way. So here I am,  making yet another perfectly innocuous attempt at pulling a rebellion through the most conventional pass time of the 90s kid. Now contrary to my instagram page, which is filled with colourful, happy images that could remind you of ice golas in a sweltering summer heat, this blog is going to be dark. Not bleak black. But more like a dark shade of jade. Often pensive, sometimes melancholy but always honest. Questioning and judging while juggling roles between the modern age philosopher to your friendly neighbourhood aunt, this is my journey of finding answers, while mushrooming more questions all along. There will be hearty doses of cooking and gardening, self care rituals and cute cat pictures carefully placed in between throughout this journey to let us keep making the magic in the mundane.  So grab your c...