Transformation Tuesday Parodies


“The freakin’ fat better burn after this!”


One of the biggest definitions I know about Tuesdays is “Transformation Tuesdays”. You know, the one, where you make a collage of your picture, from earlier times and the other one, holding your sweatshirt up flaunting that envious stomach a la Khloe Kardashian. Or when you ask you ask someone to take a video of you doing a dead lift? How do you that by the way? I’m generally not even upfront about taking a selfie when I TRY to work out.


Here is, or rather was, my definition of transformation Tuesday. Get up from bed, go about your morning chores as usual, but then, you put some pants on, change into a fresh t-shirt and refrain from looking homeless like you always do on other days!

Okay, now, on serious note, let’s talk about the wave or rather a tsunami of fitness freaks that has hit the world. Don’t get me wrong, those who are one of the lots, I don’t mean bad when I call you a freak. To the world, you’re the inspiration, the motivation. To me, being someone who will hardly try to move a limb, you definitely are a freak. About fitness.

Throwing away any universal fact that claims to call me lazy, I’ve decided to join a workout class now! As astonishing it might seem, I decided this was going to be my ultimate resort before I head away from home in September. Belonging to a family that is super into fitness and healthy lifestyle, it would be safe to say that I feel like the rhino at the Kaziranga zoo. (It’s a lucky one though. At least it got to meet Kate Middleton).


It’s only been a week or two since I really took up working out, sincerely, because as usual, the other times were just half baked attempts. No transformation yet. But how do you expect to see the muscles until that cushioning of fries and burgers from yesterday melts away? So, instead of a picture, I’m just going to write about what it’s like for a tiny little blob of fat working out around the gym.

The alarm on my phone haunts me more than Conjuring 2 did. As soon as the phone bleeps, I first contemplate if waking up this early was of any good use to my otherwise boring days. But then, in two minutes, I remember yesterday’s food by my very Gujarati Ashwini and then try thinking about my pseudo hot body that I contemplate on achieving. By the time, I haven’t even put the toothbrush in my mouth; my father enters the room with the energy of a beaming teenager looking forward to exercising despite having worked late the previous day. (Like, dude, what do you eat to keep up that energy?). Dad’s insistent “Let’s go kiddo!” is an outstanding way to keep me up from disappearing back into my bed.

After a 10 minute drive, we are at the gym. My brother is seething in the front seat beside dad, because he hates being late for his gym sesh, and I’m to blame. Come on, the only thing that lifts my mood about working out is the gym wear I invested in. I have the right to sit and think what I’d wear to the gym after having spent some serious bucks on it!

The first thing that is right at the door is the weighing scale. Trust me y’all, its way more depressing than somebody telling you about the recent episode of suits which you haven’t yet caught up on. I try to skitter away from it, not wanting to hand over the key to my happiness to an electronic gadget that ruins lives of gym going people.


Ignoring the enthusiastic good mornings from 50 year olds who are fitter than my wrecked 20 year old self or my brothers’ gym freak friends who’ll tap me on the head like I’m still the one year old who they’d push along in a stroller.

One of gym nightmares will always be, seeing my trainer. Tears instantly fill up my eyes, as my body begins to contemplate the flexion and extension (read: trauma) it’s going to go through. Let’s put it straight, my trainer is fun, but yes, he’s a disciplinarian And since I’ve paid for personal training, I can’t cheat while I do the reps. The guy is right beside me like a hawk, making sure I do every one of the 25 crunches in a set.

While I’m dripping in sweat trying to do a chest press for one last time, walks in an immaculately dressed young girl of my age. Here I am, trying to melt the fat away faster than the glaciers in Greenland, and here she is “toning” her body. A flat stomach toned arms and legs (with the thigh gap) what more do you want to tone? But she has the amazing ability to make me feel like a seal trying to flap around its enclosure while children make funny faces at it!

An hour later, after having lifted weights, my face almost looking constipated when I got to the last set, having my eardrums damaged by my trainer who yells “LAST FIVE!” , doing squats which cause me the perennial butt-pain, seeing my dad work out like he’s about to do a movie next that requires him to bulk up and occasionally, hanging from my brother’s arm while he did overhead press (perks of being short and way too tinier than your brother), the gym session comes to an end!

While, I can’t manage to bend to take off my sports shoes, thanks to the sore muscles now, I take a quick look at the mirror in the shower rooms. The t-shirt looks roomier. Pulling it up a bit, I notice a slight difference to my stomach. Hmm, maybe it’s working. Maybe not. But it’s the placebo. I worked out. In a few months I’ll be posting my own collage. It’s not about just the looking good, or following the herd. But physical activity does make you feel great. The endorphins are high. There’s a skip in your step (or you walk crippled after you’ve done legs) and that feeling is enough to last you through the day.


Meanwhile interrupting my sudden liking to working out, is the cute boy, who I managed to be workout pals with working out diligently with all the gloves and all (Like how can you be this perfect?) who comes up to me and says “Hey! Good to see you ya! You’ve actually pulled down quite a bit!” My head does the biggest head jerk it can like “Whattt? Really?? Did you notice! Oh my god!” (All said in my mind of course). Mouthing a quick thank you and making a mental note to tell my best friend about him, I walk off with my brother who won’t stop punching me in the arm, I take out my phone, secretly wanting to do a snap story about the gym sesh. Instantly, pop up two stories from gym freaks doing dead lifts and kickboxing.

Sending a snap of my blotchy face to my friend, hoping she’ll motivate me further and tell me I was the next JLaw in town, I plan to stick to the goal. That one day, one fine day, I’ll walk into the gym, happier, more like the one on the TLC channel showing you how to work out, with a Lisa Haydon body doing Pilates, and posting my own picture of a transformation Tuesday!




Mothers’ Day List


We’ve done this. Since social media, we’ve openly said our thank you-s and sorry-s to our mothers. We’ve openly admitted to our mistakes and given her the due credit for we are everything we are today, cause of her. But have we ever written her down a list? A list of memories that are etched to our souls? Tiny, nitty-gritty things that may seem insignificant to someone else, but make you see your mum in a whole new light? Those moments, which you’d never trade for anything in the world?

So here’s a list of my memories, of my mum and me, which we’ve seen each other through over the last 20 years.

Dear Mum,

You always complain that we hardly ever remember any memory of yours from our childhood. Sounds weird, but we should right? After all, you remember everything about us, don’t you? It’s probably just that I fail to string in together sane sensible sentences, when it comes to talking about you (funny I go yapping around everywhere, all the time otherwise!)

Until now you reminded me of my days as a kid, so this Mother’s day, I’ve made you a list of  10 memories I’ll always remember you by.

1)      Tough woman in the big wide world:

Remember that day back during my schooling, I asked you a question that bugged me for so long? “Mommy, every girlie’s mommies are around for dance and pick them up from school every day? Why don’t you do the mommy things? Daddy only does the daddy things!” You were basically setting your career back in India then. You just smiled and patiently answered, “The world is soooo big sweetie. Sometimes, mommy has to be both, mommy and daddy.” I just knew that you worked hard back then, rushing back from work and making it that exactly a minute or two before to the PTA meetings. Now, when I look back, I realized. It’s a hard thing, to be a tough woman, in this big wide world. Nevertheless, you did it superwoman!

2)     I remember the time when someone asked you “Don’t work so hard. It’s not like your kids are being deprived of anything”. You’d just looked at us, and say “They make me so happy. I want them to have everything I didn’t have or had to struggle and fight for.” The way I see it, you’ve done so much more than one could’ve asked for. I hope that one day, I’ll make you proud. Because I’ll pass onto my next life, trying to every repay the things you’ve done for me.

3)      Mommy love:

When you came home late, you’d assume I was asleep (well, school nights). Gingerly lying down beside me for a moment, you’d kiss my forehead, and hold me close to you and then tiptoe out of the room. You thought I never knew. Here’s the thing, I did. And that was my goodnight kiss.

4)      Taking a stand:

I remember feeling a bit left out at school. Or being teased. I’d come home, and cry bitterly. And every time I told you about it, the one thing you’d always say was “If something’s wrong, learn to take a stand. You can’t go down without a fight now, can you?”

5)      It’s okay to be emotional at times:

Well, you might not like this, but yes, I’ve seen the stress skittered across your face if you ever were called to the principal’s office because of me. I’ve seen you get misty eyed, when I’d say “This is not fair! All their mums will be around, except you.” I feel the pinch right now to have said those things. They hurt you, at the least. And you didn’t always show it. One thing’s for sure though, I’ll never forget those misty eyes I caused for the rest of my life.

6)      That time when I sneaked out and lied about it:

That day is well too etched in my mind. Remember when I sneaked out of the house and returned well past my deadline, thinking you’d not be back by then. Yu knew. Still, you didn’t mention a thing about it the whole morning, until I started flipping around the truth. You calmly sat down with me, and that very moment, I knew. I was caught. You made me own up to my mistake. I cried, feeling utterly ashamed of the fact that I lied; you quickly took me close, and said “It’s alright! Everybody makes mistakes. But remember, even if you make the biggest of the biggest mistakes of your life, mum’s always there for you.” Ironically, that stayed with me. No wonder, I could’ve made bigger messes, but I came up to you for help!

7)      Nothing works like a joke between us:

Whether it was the evening 4p.m coffee that we sat together for, or just randomly I’d tell you something funny that happened that day, we had our moments. You’d tell me about some funny story from your workplace or something a colleague said and we’d have a hearty laugh over it! I’d call them our ‘inside jokes’. I cherish having shared such moments with you. Where I made you laugh until you had tears in your eyes. I’m always on a lookout for a moment like that.

8)      Hearing you sing and groove to the tune:

You’re not a professional singer, but I’ve noticed how much you enjoy music. How you hum those old songs when you’re writing some report, or when you’re in the kitchen and you’ll try the moon walk, with your saree pallu tucked in one side and a spoon in one hand, tasting the delicious curry you just made. It’s amazing to see the effect music has on people. Or when you’d lay back at the end of the day, put on the music player and sing along to that album of old English classics that Dad compiled for you. Or those days, when we’d have karaoke nights? Nobody could beat you at them! You are a pro at those!

9)      Being the cool mom:

From buying the two piece swimsuit for a four year old who ran to her mommy with a magazine saying that she wished she could wear this to her next swimming lesson, to approving my first ever ‘boyfriend list’ when I was a teenager. Well, the list has evolved over time, and I can still picture you, with your spectacles perched on your nose, how you’d look through it and say “You can do better. Your guy must be worth more than the pointers on this list.” You’ve let me have my own set of values to live by, let me make my own decisions ready to back me up for them and even given me advice Facebook upload pictures if I ever asked you! Funny enough, your collection of memes is even cooler than the one I have! They save my life!

10)   Damn the world! :

Remember when during an interactive Talent Day, I showed the very skill I had? My chicken dance! While others clapped just because I was a child, you actually stood up and clapped the hardest even hooting and yelling “Good going baby! Yay!” and telling those around you “That’s my daughter!” I waved back at you from the stage, like a mad chicken, with those floppy wings. But who cared. There you were in a formal shirt and trousers with a blazer, at the heights of your career waving back enthusiastically at the child who performed the chicken dance! That’s when I realized, you’ve got to be proud of what you are, no matter what.

And finally thanks a ton. For making that little girl feel like she was on the top of the world. For telling her that she deserved a lot more than she imagines. And of all, whispering in her ear, “Kid, you’ll move mountains!”





The Forbidden Week.


On reading the title, the first question that must’ve popped up in your mind is “Has Rushel lost her mind, to use a tittle like this?”

For those who don’t know me, I guess that’s the truth. For those who know me, well, they’ll probably be “Does she even have one!” (It’s a pseudo mid y’all. Does the overthinking rather than the actual thinking)

Getting back to the point, the forbidden week. The week, where all of social media mellows down a bit. Where, moms developed the natural instinct of knowing when you’re going to even venture near your phone, WhatsApp groups suddenly become silent and your family group refrains from sending any “Good Morning” and “Good night” forwards! Folks, it’s time to write the exams.

I recently appeared for one, and from the very recent experience, I can assure you, until you’re one of those who studied right from the start of the semester, most of us, act like somebody set fire to our tails!

And for those who are yet to appear for their exams, one very sound advice, DO NOT LISTEN TO YOUR HEART. THAT IDIOT WANTS TO PROCASTINATE TILL THE EXAM MORNING!

So here’s a tiny list of all the many things that the forbidden week has taken me through,

1)      “We just got granted a study break”.

This is the day, you have officially been relieved of the hassles of travel, college, studying and getting up in the morning. It’s when you now should to really “Focus. Like a laser”. But to me, it means, today is the day, when I get to be free (pre-exam freedom). Let’s watch a movie today. Thorough studies from tomorrow”. You’re supposed to make a timetable as well. Point is, I make a timetable. But till date it’s adorned to my wall. Not a day crossed.

2)      “I will start studying at …. Am/pm”

Be honest we’ve all done this (more me over you), when we open the laptop and think to ourselves “Okay, its 10.43 now. I’ll begin studying at 11” But here’s what happens at 10.59. The brain ditches you. And you think to yourself, “I’ll complete this episode by 11.15 and then sit to study.” While 11 become 11.15 and 11.15 becomes 11.30, remember, to curse your mind AND your heart. They’re causing all these happy hormones to release while you were secretly dancing to ‘Chaiyaan chaiyaan’.

3)      Google search: “Effective study methods”

This by far almost sent my mother into frenzy when she saw this open on the laptop. I did Google this (yes I’m giving you then chance to laugh at me. AGAIN.) But here’s the problem. Like every other internet savvy kid, I googled it, bookmarked it, although I never followed it. There you go. One more way to make you look very sincere in front of your parents and gaining extra brownie points (you can thank me later)

1)      Caffeine:

Since we’re talking about my exam regime, mine has to start and end with coffee. A big Grey’s Anatomy mug (how cliché) filled to the brim with strong coffee. The aroma itself wakes you up. (Can you get the feel already?) Yes, I know, I’ve already made some of you’ll cringe your nose and go “Caffeine is bad for your health. Why is she promoting it?” I’m not. I’m just saying, that I read a study that proves that coffee helps you retain information better. It’s the exam week. Cut me some slack. I need to retain some of that syllabus!

2)      Time table:

If there were a planning competition, I’d probably be in the top 3 people when it came to planning things. I will make use of different colored pens, mark the dates accordingly, how much of which chapter must be done, how much to focus on what. After 30 minutes of what I’ll refer to as brain storming, I have a timetable made. So perfect that, at the end of it, I still am left with 5-6 days for revision before the exam. That’s how perfect timetables work. How I work, after making the timetable, well, let’s just say “God bless us all” and get over it!

3)      The sincere panic:

Let’s just face it, whatever be your academic caliber, every freaking person studies for an exam. (If you’re still gaffing and saying that you don’t… ‘Liar liar, pants on fire’). Bile starts rising up. You’re suddenly a fortune teller with all the horrible images of being handed over a report card with a KT or an F written on it. You try to sleep but those horrid images wake you up. You spring out of bed, and take that book in your hand, ready to cram in a bit more than before. Concentration levels soar. If you’re lucky, your mum will probably realize here the sound and wake up to see you studying in the other room. That, my friends, is when her heart melts and rest assured, you’re going to be pampered all along the exam season. (Mine doesn’t do that. She knows the actual lunatic I am)

4)      Study, hope and pray:

You’ve done your best. You tried to study as much as you can. And you can’t do anything more than that. You’ve fought your way through the Amazonian syllabus (wouldn’t be so if we studied from the start) and then you arrive, at the Exam Centre. Boom, everything right now seems like the ending of every episode of Game of Thrones. There’s anticipation (“what if they ask questions which I skipped), then there are your classmates (who look like those participants in the fights in GoT), then there are parents, fussing over their children (I’m like, “Mom, stop touching my face. I’m alright!”). The books are the swords, the bell rings, and you trot off, it’s time to write the paper.

5)      What happens in those 3 hours:

Over the years observation has taught me quite a few things that happen in the exam hall (this clearly depicts how clueless I am about the paper).Silent conversation and telepathy knows no bounds. Even lovers in Hindi films could never get their ‘ishaaras’ (sign language) right as much as two kids, trying to decide whether the answer to Q1-1) is A or B! If you sit close to the window, you’re forever distracted. Either by the birds chirping, the wind that keeps blowing on your face, or just the sheer desire to keep looking out at the tress, because you don’t know the names of the ones asked in the paper (it’s called Botany folks). Then there’s the guessing game, playing inky pinky ponky, because you don’t want to ask for help. It’s a torturous guessing game (My tip: choose the most difficult looking one, THAT’S the answer!) All the bathroom singers raise your hands now! There’s always a random song stuck in your head when you’re writing an exam, and all you want to do, is fling your paper across the exam hall and start to dance (it’s better than the writing all the mumbo jumbo in your mind as an answer).We suddenly become super calculative. We start calculating with every written answer as to how much we’ll be scoring. (Is it going up to 36/100? Phew! Pass!). A lot more happens in during those 2 and half-three hours. Let’s just cap it up and say ‘It’s a damn race!’

6)      “Time up”:

The last 15 minutes are extremely crucial. You suddenly begin to recollect the answer you’ve been struggling with since the start of the paper. You have to write that and a lot more. It’s a race against time. One eye o the paper, and the other on your watch, you start scribbling all over the paper. It reminds me, of that time as a kid, where you’d sprawl across the floor and push other kids aside to collect the chocolates Santa threw into the crowd during a Christmas party! And the last five minutes, you see the evil supervisor, gearing up to snatch that precious paper out of your hand in a second. (That’s another fight when you go “Sir, one more minute” when the supervisor’s at your desk!) The full stop at the end of the last sentence is a relief. You’ve written the paper. Submitted your fate. With one last glance and silent prayer, you hand over the paper, triumphantly. The confusion, for your information, is one golden opportunity, to ask somebody for help with that fill in the blank!

7)      DONE!

The varied looks on everybody’s face, is just another treat to watch. There’s one, who has written everything in the paper, completed the paper and then looking at them gives you major marks chills! Then there’s the ‘I knew NOTHING in the paper’ face (don’t look at them, you don’t want to be depressed for a lifetime). The badass face cursing the supervisor because their paper was snatched, or the when they forgot to write one point in one answer. But then, the worst, the poker face. “The paper was just out of limits. Guess I’ll pass” (you have no idea how happy they are from the inside because the paper was actually good!). Then the post mortem of the paper category. Every question, every mark shall be discussed as soon as we disperse (and by doing this, we will relieve our own stress, but increase somebody else’s!) Lastly, not stereotyping, but the “boys-face”. Boss! As long as they’re passing, and have written all that they actually did study for, their lives are just another merry go round!

Eventually what happens, everybody walks home. You could crib about it (you have the right to), be happy about it, be disappointed, and be surprised that you even managed to write a paper. I say, just let it go. You can choose to feel how you want to about. You could just keep ranting about the previous paper, or then, just focus on the upcoming one!

Well, if you’ve reached this paragraph, you either have a lot of free time on your hand, or just couldn’t find anything else to do, so you pushed through this! (I’ll take both as a compliment for this piece!) Now that I’ve wasted your time, (I didn’t mean to though), taking you through that forbidden week of examination and semester finals, I’ll urge you to go back to the business of academics. At the end, it’s never a bad feeling to see the entire struggle pay off right!


Here are the credits to a few people (and some apps) for seeing me through this semester:

WhatsApp groups: Thank you for the papers and doubts. I gathered a few marks at the least cause of you doubts.

Anjali and Sharanya: Thank you for the dumb talks. It helps to know that you appreciate even my low IQ.

Ashwini G: Thank you for the everyday reality check always. “You’ll never get through medicine like this.” You know how much I love it, and you help me never lose focus. Love you that, A!

Teachers: Teaching me through the year and seeing my doubt-ridiculed face must’ve been traumatizing to you. Every day. You got through it. I love you’ll.

One particular person: You know who you are. Thank you for letting me cry to you, 24*7 during the exam phase. (Like I said, I vow to mature in my head once I turn 21) I love you.

Kandarp: Your sleep is just dear to you. I know that. But you’re my dearest friend. So I’m allowed to text you and wake you up at 3am just to talk!

Pooja and Krishna: I’d like to punch you’ll both (specially the former) because you’ll study and come, but then, you don’t punch your near and dear ones.

Dhaval: You left me behind when it comes to talking and chatting before an exam. Jokes outside the exam hall will never be the same like those we cracked.

SNAPCHAT AND AFIFAH, VAIBHAVI AND DEEPALI: Thank you, for showing me your faces via snapchat, every day throughout the night, while we cried about how badly the semester was killing us. Special thank you to Afifah. You’d watch movies, Snapchat that, and then compel me to watch a few too!

My family (very important) : You’ll supported me, helped me realize that the world’s much more than just a printed paper mentioning your percentage. I lived life king size cause of you’ll during the exam. (Now for payback, I have to do the chores at home. Ugh!)

Over The Line

While what behind the curtain, in an examination room, is quite a thing you’d probably hear from a female doctor. This is the side to it, from a male doctor’s perspective. #sexualharassment #maledoctors

A Little bit Smart ass-y!

Recess. One of the most important time frames at the university. This is basically the time, when you sit around, letting the aroma of home cooked snack wafting through the class make you forget about all about dietetics and Alzheimer’s. The blood from my brain gushes all to my stomach as I tuck into my tiffin like nobody’s business.

That’s when one of my classmates comes up to me. Standing there, she takes a bite of my snack (my heart is pounding at the very thought that I’m going to be having one less a bite of the lip-smacking burrito my mum’s given me). Dusting the crumbs off, she gives me a blatant look and says, “Rushel, even my arms are thinner than your thighs.” Whoosh! Somebody just dropped the S-bomb! My hand freezes midway with the burrito ready to being gobbled down. Instantly, I compose myself and say, “Umhh. Okay.” (My mind’s already cursing her)

I come home, and immediately rush to the mirror. Lifting up t-shirt slightly, I look at myself. It’s called “analysis” apparently. Flat stomach otherwise, but beginning to have a little bit of the burger bulge. Well, I can deal with that. What catches my attention next though, are my thighs and my arms. “Gosh! I’m becoming the Hulk!” I begin to bawl my imaginary weight stresses.

You know that period, when you cry, and then get better. Actually its mostly not really better, it’s just that, you get over it. Temporarily. I grab my lunch, and click to watching The Ellen Show. Its Amy Schumer today. Tagged one of the funniest ladies around town, the crowd jumps off their seats, hooting as she walks in! My mind’s slowly getting out of my world shattering apparent weight issues! Yay!

The interview starts and when Ellen asks Amy why she doesn’t move to LA, being the hilarious version of herself, she says, “You know, I just don’t fit in. Like, straight off body type. You know, here, my arms register as legs… that sort off!” and that, gets the crowd to hit one thundering round of applause! There you go, slender legs, and beach bod! HA!

The interview moves on as Amy continues to regale the audience and Ellen with her wise cracks and jokes. But what you really take out of it is that most of her jokes, surround, her. Yes, she cracks those funny one liners about herself. And it seemingly gets an even bigger round of applause every time. That’s when I realized the trick. Or rather a life lesson.

You could be one of those, who crack a joke on others. Well, even that’s fine at times. Harmless fun if it is. Or you could be one of those on whom the jokes are cracked and really take it to the heart and won’t come out of it. OR, you could be one of those, who let’s themselves, at times, be the reason for a harmless joke, or even better, have the guts to crack a joke about themselves.

Trying to make a fool out of others is easy. Some may even think it’s alright. But being able to laugh at yourself, without having to degrade yourself in anyway, that’s gutsy. That’s what portrays the real meaning of self confidence. That’s the funniest but overwhelmingly a trickiest thing to master. Being able to let others have good hearty laugh on something, without letting it affect you or your morale.

I remember an advertisement, which once, depicted about how a model, tripped cause of her heels and fell down on the ramp during a really prestigious fashion event. While there was a collective “OH!” that ran throughout the crowd as she fell, she covered her face with her hands. People thought that she broke down. But when she moved her hands away from her face, there she was, laughing! And as she picked up her heels in her hands, she clapped for herself and continued to smile for the cameras, and letting that confidence show through as she sashayed across the ramp.

And that’s when it hit me. You aren’t a thing of what people say to you, until you begin to believe in it yourself. Sometimes, being able to laugh at your own self brings out the confidence in you. Well, people will continue to talk (isn’t that such a human tendency?) it’s what you give them to talk about that makes the difference.

The ‘Science of Sexy’ as they call it states, one of the five things that make an individual insanely attractive is self humor. (This is a clear sign that I’m not reading anything relating to my study course right now. And that I need to get a life!) And while this part of the write up is the only thing that got your attention, here’s the thing. It takes time. Effort. A tiny bit of self help, and oodles of hope. But I’m getting there. In sometime. Forget trying to relate yourself to famous people, who have this knack of bringing some sunshine to the room. Think about those hilarious people around you. Those are capable to bringing a smirk to your face, with a witty comment, even if it involves them.

As I take it, “The world is going to be stupid. And harsh. And mean at times. Don’t go with the flow. Just sit back and enjoy the show!”  And for once, I desperately urge you to believe You have so much more to offer to the world than just a perfect body and a few external here and there’s. Or in my words become your own version of Gigi Hadid and Kendall Jenner (no harsh feelings. I love them both. Their outfits too!)

So speak your mind, spit out those witty comebacks, wear that dress and walk around like you own, laugh a little. Give ‘em a lil somethin’ to talk about. Wreck a tiny havoc. After all, there must be a reason why they call you the smarty pants eh?

(Sorry, my recess and self empowerment reverie is done and dusted. I gobble up the rest of the burrito while my classmate gives me a pointed look. And all I say is, “its okay, if my legs really are a fat machine. Or that I my actual size is M, but I still wear a XL sized T-shirt to not draw even an eyeball towards myself. Or if I look like an overfed, deep fried Kentucky chicken. But let’s take a moment to thank God for Levis,. At least they make jeans for this size too. AND CALL IT THE CURVE ID!” TADAAAAAA! Can almost hear Jimmy Fallon’s orchestra’s trademark drum roll!)



College Taxanomy

Winter mornings. Generally, in a few countries, that involves, snow. Nice jackets. Stoles. Boots. Winter caps.

And here I am. At 6 a.m. Standing in front of my wardrobe, wondering what shirt should I pick for college. Full sleeved. Half sleeved. A slightly warmer material. Or just a plain shirt. Given Mumbai’s temperature fluctuations similar to my mood swings, there is no way I’d pull on a jacket,or coat, or even a sweater for that matter!

Oh screw it! The slight chill’s getting to me and whose going to notice anyway! Throwing on a loose baggy T-shirt, and pulling up those jeans I make a quick run to pack my bag, grabbing the coffee cup and heading off to college.

Grey’s anatomy made drinking coffee, with a book or file in the other hand quite a thing. Very nerd-ish. But they didn’t tell you the downfalls. Those include, driving slowly, making sure you don’t spill coffee on the car seat while navigating on the Mumbai roads. Or one very infinitely annoying thing. When you walk through the hallway, with that piece of attitude in your hand, feelin’ the caffeine kick,the vapor from the mug hits your face! Bam! With that, those spectacles resting perkily on your nose, turn all foggy! Now for a few seconds I’m blind. Great!

Phew, brush off the current ‘flavor of the season, Plain-Jane’ avatar I’ve donned (its basically the only trend that I wish follow!) I entered the class. The coffee’s given my brain and my ultra chatty conscience  a good kickstart. Soon, I look around the class and begin to categorize. (It’s human tendency okay. Don’t judge!) And here’s how, like those great men classified various biological species, I come up with my own.

1) Fashionalis articulum: These, are the group of boys and girls, in the class, who take their everyday style quite seriously. Whether it is the boots that where a talk in the tinsel town, or that new hairdo that’s causing flutters in the hearts of the other fellow “mere mortals”. Makeup – on point. Shoes – On point. Hair – sleek as ever. The selfie looks good when taken from any angle (I try 500 selfies, before settling on one!) They are one reason many a times, college kids will want to believe in Taylor Swift’s ‘hunk-falls-for-the-nerd’ fantasy! You try to, but yes, you always sneakily take a peek at this gang for their styling options. At least, you don’t have to look through Vogue and Grazia then!

2) Gossipium informis : Well well well. These do a job better than paparazzi could imagine. You want to know the interesting “who’s with who”, “what happened last night”? They know it all. Right from when the tentative dates for the examinations to the insider gossip, they have their own little birdies! Their prying eyes on you will make you want to hide and never open your mouth to them. For you know, your words are going to be plastered all across the classroom, and set tongues wagging!

3) Logicarium doubtalis : You want a live example of how Wikipedia throws, weird astounding facts to your face? These kids are the human wikipedia machinery. By default. Be sure, you’ll have a quota of daily facts out of nowhere thrown at you everyday. Weird, slightly, though logically gifted, you better be prepared for a honest, apt reasoning to their doubts. Mischievous, but fun loving, they bring their own twist to the lesson plot! Otherwise, expect every doubt, thrown at you, or even the professor, to make your head spin!

4) Sincerium studentum : This category, PROBABLY, includes me. Those first benchers, right under the teachers nose, scribbling notes at break-neck speed, almost sending seismic vibrations throughout the desk! If you’ve ever missed class, ask them for notes. I bet, they’ll have it! Generally characterized as the nerds of the class, you could never know if they are just funny, mischievous behind those glasses until you make friends with them. Keeping class records, circulating notes, tutoring last minute, these re the ones who’ll you’ll have to make a bee-line for before the exams.

In between my pathetically bad reverie and classification (which could probably extend given extra time to waste) I hear a sharp “Okay now! Settle down!” Its time for the books to take some of that space on the desk. Quickly stuffing my coffee mug back into my bag, I take a quick look at the class, through my glasses perched onto my nose.

This is it. These ‘genera’ are what makes up ‘Kingdom Studentae’. Each of them, with their own features, own short comings and own strengths. But science can get tangled. And so do these groups. And so, even while you might belong to a whole category, you’ll find them standing by you. And while you might be worried, if you’ll ever fit in, here’s the thing, science will get you there. You’ll always find yourself in a pretty good place! 🙂