Last week my YouTube feed was flooded with zoom interviews of Priyanka Chopra Jonas sitting in front of her crackling fireplace and basking in perfect lighting. All the hosts were fawning over her new book ‘Unfinished’ and gushing about how inspirational it was.
This book was featured in the best-seller list of The New York Times in less than a week from its release. Being a memoir junkie, I wanted to find out for myself if this book was worth all the hype. So I ordered the Kindle version and got started.
First of all, I do believe Priyanka Chopra…
Why did God let him suffer so much? Why didn’t God hear my prayers?”, my mother lamented over and over.
A grieving mother, she had many a bone to pick with God. Her firstborn was no longer part of the world she breathed in. Her years of devotion to God and fervent prayers had amounted to nothing, she concluded.
I nodded and acknowledged the unfairness of life. But I didn’t tell her what I really thought.
“What does God have to do with his death? What does God have to do with the choices we make in life? …
When I first joined Facebook more than a decade ago, it was novel and engrossing. After college, I lost touch with friends as we dispersed across the globe.
So, it seemed almost magical that I could finally behold them in their new avatars as giddy parents bouncing babies and as driven professionals.
But after a few years of wishing a million people ‘Happy Birthday’, the novelty of Facebook was wearing off for me. I realized that 90% of the time I was just viewing updates of people who were constantly humble-bragging their perfect lives.
I couldn’t understand why someone had…
I waited for 3 weeks to call my friend, just to see if she would call me. I was the one religiously calling her every week. Each time I called, she would launch into her usual “I am so busy, I have no time.” rant and on she would go about how she didn’t have a spare minute in the day.
So what do you think I am doing here? Just twiddling my thumbs?
It would be easy to just conclude that my friend wasn’t a good friend. But the truth is far from it. She’s been a solid friend…
Last year, I was tagged in a story by a new writer. Half of Medium was also tagged in it. ‘Clever strategy!’ I thought. He had managed to get more eyes on his story. His story was good and it deserved the extra traffic his tactic got.
A few weeks later we were all tagged again and again in other stories of his. This time the vultures came out with venom dripping from their fangs. People rudely called him out for tagging and wasting their precious time.
I felt bad for the poor guy. First of all, he was new…
I should be ringing your doorbell sometime soon this Holiday Season.
I should be embracing you and simultaneously poking fun at your Covid-15.
I should be looking at my nephews and niece and exclaiming “Gosh, they’ve grown.”
I should be rolling my eyes when my Godson doesn’t stop interrogating me about what’s in my bag.
I should be posing with the Christmas tree and posting it on Facebook in a jiffy, like I always do.
I should be helping you set the table and taste testing the chicken curry. More, more spice!
I should be catching up on the latest…
He’s brash and power-hungry, she’s reserved and spotlight-shy. That’s President Trump and Melania Trump for you. It’s been 4 years since Melania took over the East Wing and now she’s down to her last days there.
Melania had some enormous shoes to fill in when she took on the role of First Lady in 2016. Her predecessor, Michelle Obama had popularity ratings higher than even her husband, President Obama.
From get-go, Melania was compared with Michelle Obama whose charismatic personality enthralled all. Melania’s introverted nature, on the other hand, held less appeal. She was perceived as aloof, cold and emotionless.
2020 had such a good ring to it. Those double 20’s looked so symmetrical and dashing, inviting all to a promising year. Then the clock struck 12 and pandora’s box was unleashed.
Covid-19 metastasized and brought the world to a stand still. Along with the countless deaths, crashing economies and chaos, an epidemic of loneliness proliferated, triggering addictions and mental health disorders.
I wanted to ask 2020 if it had anything more in store, but then kept silent fearing it would reply back.
For me personally, it wasn’t Covid-19 that jolted my world. …
I couldn’t discern my mom’s incoherent words. Huge gulping sobs were fragmenting them. The only audible word was suicide.
“Mom, could you repeat that?” I said, dreading what I would hear.
“I wanted to commit suicide yesterday. This pain is too much for me.” mom heaved.
My mom is the strongest person I’ve known. Growing up, I had nicknamed her Ironwoman. I found her iron shell quite annoying though. I often wished she would uncloak it and reveal her vulnerable side to me.
At my brother’s funeral mass she never shed a tear. She volunteered to do the reading. Her…
The other day I was watching a show about the most expensive foods in the world. $2000 can get you a decent used car or breakfast at Norma’s restaurant. They don’t serve diamond crusted pancakes like I had imagined just Sevruga caviar, six eggs, and a lobster.
Then, there’s the $5000 ‘FleurBurger’ which consists of a Wagyu beef and foie gras burger patty topped with truffle sauce and shaved black truffles.
2 months rent for some fancy fungus topped meat?
Anyway, that show jogged my memory about the most expensive meal I ever ate. It took me down memory lane…
Cancer geek I Lover of words & fried rice I Memory Keeper