I forgot

It comes down to my She-devil

Hey there! How are you?

I thought I would love talking about myself and to some extent I do but currently, I don’t even know what’s happening in my life. No, I’m not constantly drunk or something. It’s just that I hardly get any time!

To be frank, that shouldn’t happen. I have just four hours college which,  believe me, is hardly anything. Some of my friends attend 9 hours of lectures and still get time to do something. One of my friends, Tash, does charity, practises for her Arangetrum (which is a performance a Bharatnatyam dancer is supposed to do once she has sufficiently mastered the dance form), writes for her college magazine, and attends guest lectures and documentary screenings all after attending college from 8 am to 2pm.

My daily schedule is something like this –

6.45 am – Mom tries to wake me up.
7.00 am – I actually open my eyes.
7.15 am – I jump out of the bed and rush to the bathroom because I’m late.
8.15 am- Leave for college.
10.00 am – Reach college.
10.30 am to 2.30 pm – Attend lectures.
2.30 pm to 4.00 pm – Travel.
4.00 pm – Eat a snack and check messages.
4.30 pm – Watch some TV. Mostly Game of Thrones.
6.30 pm -???
7.15 pm – Mom comes home so we chat for a while.
7.45 pm to 9.00 pm -???
9.00 pm to 9.30 pm – Dinner.
9.30 pm to 10.00 pm -???
10.00 pm to 11.00 pm – TV again. Oh you wile tempting creature!
11.00 pm to 12.30 am -???
12.30 am to 7.00 am – Sleep.

What the hell do I end up doing throughout the day?

Yeah, I do watch a lot of TV but it’s only for 3 hours which leaves me with 21 hours to do stuff. Stuff that can be termed as productive like studying, writing, practicing French, practicing guitar, blogging, etc.

I do nothing.

Actually I can write good fiction post midnight. During the day, the sun sucks up all my creative juices. Or maybe creativity is an effect of sleepiness.

My point is, I should write more.

The other thing I should do is study. Actually, I have a test tomorrow so I should be studying currently. But I’m not. I feel like writing a story instead. Now is not the time for writing stories because it’s midnight and story writing is a time consuming process. Plus, I have college tomorrow and a test which I should be studying for. Damn!

And the Queen of Procrastination strikes again!

It’s midnight and now I’m a little sleepy. Finally! But trust me when I say, if I go to bed now I’ll end up listening to music.

Staying awake and then catching up on my sleep tomorrow afternoon is not an option either. Utsu, a college friend, has fallen sick. She’s got malaria and she’s got Ganapati at her place. So I might go over to her place tomorrow. No time to visit my dreamworld tomorrow afternoon.

I’m worried about her and another sick friend of mine. Malaria is shit. So is a viral infection.

The other thing I’m worried about is the Gaza conflict. Seriously. Sam once asked me what do I care about. I told her world peace. She didn’t believe me. Maybe I don’t care about it as much as say, the people in UN but if I see a shooting star right now (very difficult. It’s been pouring all day.), I’ll definitely wish for a long term peace treaty between the Israelis and the Hamas.

I live in India. India is far away. I could just ignore the entire issue, something which I’m ashamed to say, I’m doing. But I don’t want people to die. How can anything justify death? What righteous cause? What issue?

Somethings are worth dying for. I get that. I remember watching a movie with my dad. I don’t remember the name but it had Keanu Reeves as an undercover police officer and Patrick Swayze as the leader of a gang who organized bank heists. They used the stolen money for surfing equipment. They were so freaking passionate about surfing! When the gang leader is finally caught, he’s with a surf board on a beach (Bondi, I think). He is waiting for some super huge waves to surf on. Instead of getting arrested, he chooses to surf the dangerous wave. That wave proves to be his last.

So surfing on a phenomenally gigantic wave was worth dying for, for Bodhi. That is the kind of passion I’m looking for. I love writing but on most days, I think I suck. Nor will you find me writing every waking moment. People actually do that!

I think, it’s just that I’m lazy.

I used to write continuously when I was actively working on Chocolate. Maybe I should start working on it again. Strike maybe. I definitely should work on it again. It’s better than spending my time staring at the walls.

The idle mind is a devil’s workshop and my she-devil is already a stupid, hormonal cry baby.

Anyhooo,  I’m off to the land of sleep. Good night y’all!

Week 4: Blur

Week 4: 27th July to 2nd August.
I’m really behind schedule, I know that. I’m really sorry and I’ll try my best to catch up 🙂

So, Blur –

On most days, Joe felt like a fucking walking contradiction. He had a dentist for a father but a chocolate tooth. He had a chef for a mother but was skinny as a skeleton. He loved punk music but hated electric guitars. He loved the sky but couldn’t stand the color blue. He loved pizza but couldn’t stand the base. He liked looking at the starry sky but their silly twinkling irritated the shit out of him. It went on and on.
Once, Joe got very drunk. He called his girlfriend Kia to drive him home. She drove him home but his parents were out. When she called them, it was their irate friend Maureen who replied. They had gotten drunk and called her to drive them home. Then they passed out as soon as they got into her car. But not before calling her a drunk bitch, hence her irritation. For some reason, this made Joe giggle in the backseat.
Kia realized that she would have to take her drunken boyfriend back to her place. She was a bit worried about her parents but as long as Joe slept on the couch in the living room, he would be safe. Her mom slept in the attic while her dad preferred the basement. Her mother was a legendary snorer. She was better off sleeping in the sound proofed attic.
The moment Kia drove into her driveway, Joe yelled for food. She fondly thought about cooking him a meal at 3 a.m. Maybe some pasta? She gently pulled him out of the car and dragged him to her living room and deposited on the couch. She opened the refrigerator for something that could be termed as edible and found coffee beans. Just coffee beans. Where had all those veggies gone? No bread, no milk, no eggs. How was she going to feed Joe?
Kia put her hand in the oven and found a packet of cookies. She looked into the spices drawer and found a piece of bread. She made a cookie-coffee bean sandwich for Joe. Joe said that it was the best sandwich he’d ever tasted.
Joe was feeling less and less drunk by the minute. He could focus on Kia’s pretty face now. Before she had been a blur of red. Maybe it was the coffee bean sandwich. It had been the best thing Joe had ever tasted! He was a lucky guy. Kia was such an innovative cook. He got to eat her innovations.
Kia was blushing prettily because of Joe’s compliments. Joe pulled her towards him and tucked her in a hug. They started watching the Discovery channel on the telly.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Joe got up and opened the door. He was a little upset. He had been having an amiable time with Kia. It was the Police. Not the earth police but the police from Mars accusing Joe of terrorist activity. Joe stood there with his mouth hanging open. Kia had heard it all. She grabbed her comb and attacked the policemen.
They overpowered her with the help of their toothbrushes. Then they arrested Joe and Kia and took them to their spaceship.
The spaceship was shaped like a giant pig. Joe and Kia were beamed up into the spaceship. They weren’t surprised to see that the rest of the crew comprised of assorted talking human-sized animals.
They were taken to the captain of the ship who was a cock wearing a baby’s bonnet.
” You sick dick! ” yelled Kia. “Why did you arrest us? Are you nuts? ”
“You were a threat to the peace of Mars. So you were arrested.” He replied in Spock tones.
“What did we do to disrupt your peace? And also, we are earth citizens. Not your division.”
“You ate cheese.”
“We just had a coffee bean and cookie sandwich each.” Said Joe. “There was no cheese.”
“You ate cheese.” Repeated Captain Cock.
“Yeah, we probably did eat cheese in this lifetime but almost everyone on earth eats cheese. So why us? ”
“It wasn’t that you ate cheese but they way you ate it.” Said the cook Sheep in a french accent. “You earth people should really be taught the correct way to eat cheese. Only the french do it correctly.”
“What?” Replied Joe and Kia with identical confused expressions.
Then entered the Wolf. He was a Very Important Person on the ship. He invited Joe and Kia to eat some mushrooms with him. Captain Cock had to let them go.
So they went to the Wolf’s quarters which were huge and Gothic. He had scented candles lit all over the room.
He gave them fluorescent mushrooms to eat. They tasted like lemon sherbets. Kia loved them. Joe puked all over the Wolf’s carpet. He found out that he was allergic to fluorescent mushrooms. That made Joe grumpy which made him rude. He ended up insulting the Wolf who had them kicked out of the ship.
Joe hit the gnome in Kia’s garden and fell unconscious. Kia curled up in his arms and fell asleep.
The next morning, they woke to the bright glare of the sun. Last night was a blur in their memory.

What is happening to me?

What is happening to me?

What is happening to me?
I used to love my own company.
Now, I can only hear echoes
Sounds of laughter
Sounds of a group I feel alienated to
But I feel alienated to everything, everyone

Silence was never so deafening
The dusk, never so smothering
I still dislike crowds
Yet I have begun to dislike my voice more
I hate it when it whispers about my inabilities

The color is being sucked out
So are the little pleasures I would enjoy
I sleep but I no longer rest
I eat but I don’t remember the flavor, the taste

Are my friends still my friends?
Because it feels like the comradeship is gone
Now, I feel all alone

I ask again, what is happening to me?
The question hangs in the air, larger than life

I have no answer, just assumptions

I need color, I need flavor.
I need inspiration, I need motivation.
I need something to believe in

Photo Credits- Akshay Khond

Photo Credits- Akshay Khond

Étienne v/s Josh

I finally read Isla and the Happily Ever After. And I just loved it so much!

Stephanie Perkins is made of awesome. I already knew that. But, in Isla we can actually see how much she’s grown as a writer. I honestly am jealous of Anna, Lola and Isla for having such amazing love stories.

Stephanie just transforms these characters into real fantasy people. They aren’t stuck into the pages of a book.

If I could draw, I’d show them as characters emerging out of a page. Like literally walking out of a book. If I ever get the superpower to read characters out of a book (like in Cornelia Funke’s Inkheart trilogy which I haven’t read but I’ve read the summary on Wikipedia), I’d definitely start with Étienne St Clair, Cricket Bell and Joshua Wasserstein.

So Isla has now entered into my list of favorite books, but it has also left me with a big dilemma.

Which fictional guy by Stephanie Perkins is more awesome?

Well, there are three options.

A) Étienne St Clair

B) Cricket Bell

C) Joshua Wasserstein

Now, as awesome Cricket Bell is, the real comparison of sorts is between Étienne and Josh.

They were best friends in school. Étienne had his charisma and Josh had the whole tortured artist thing going for him. Naturally, both of them felt that the other one was better liked.

Who is really better?

Let’s make a pros and cons list ‘Étienne vs Josh’



– An American guy with a British accent and French body language? Talk about dreamy…

– Etienne sweats charisma. Honestly, could that guy BE any more charming?

– This description of him: “The first thing I notice is his hair – it’s the first thing I notice about anyone. It’s dark brown and messy and somehow both long and short at the same time. I think of the Beatles, since I’ve just seen them in Meredith’s room. It’s artist’s hair. Musician hair. I-pretend-I-don’t-care-but-I-really-do hair.”

– The thing that happens at the end of Isla and the Happily Ever After.


– He is the tortured artist. And tortured artist-y YA characters always have a special appeal.

– He is tall.

– Because of this: “I’m…getting there. I’m beginning to think that maybe it’s okay to be a blank canvas. Maybe it’s okay that my future is unknown. And maybe,” I say with another smile, “it’s okay to be inspired by the people who do know their future.” “It goes both ways, you know.” I link his icicle fingers through mine. “What does?” “Artists are inspired by blank canvases.” My smile grows wider.”

– His book; his brilliant, brilliant book.



– His height. Okay, I do have a thing for tall people. I always wished I would grow up to be around 6 ft. I wanted an Amazonian complex. In reality, I’m around 5.6 ft.

– His fear of heights. I don’t know if it’s a con because it just makes him vulnerable which makes him human which just increases his attractiveness.


– I liked Rashmi but seriously? He should have thought twice before giving Isla his book with all those nude sketches of Rashmi, his ex.

-Tortured artists sound awesome and they’re usually incredibly talented. But they’re also depressed which is difficult to live with.

Anyhoo, I love both of them. I am not going to pick one. I pick all three -Etienne, Cricket and Josh.

New Music Feels

Right now, I’m giddy with joy. I’ve got ‘Moves like Jagger’ by Maroon 5 on repeat. Yesterday, I added my friend’s entire playlist to my playlist. While it is very different from the songs I listen to normally, I love it. Like I honest-to-awesome love it!

Songs that I’ve loved from Dee’s playlist-

5) 4 Minutes- Madonna ft Justin Timberlake : I used to love this one. Then it got deleted from my cellphone and I forgot about it. Until now. Songs by Madonna are so catchy. I find myself singing ‘Like a virgin’ whenever I am a queue for a train ticket.

4) Don’t you worry child- Swedish House Mafia ft John Martin : Nostalgia overload

3) The A team- Ed Sheeran : Yesterday, I also listened to ‘All of the stars’ from the TFIOS soundtrack. And then the A team today. Man, is Ed Sheeran talented or what?

2) A dream- Priscilla Ahn : This song is just too sweet. I experience a beautiful calm when I listen to it. It’s like a pool of clear water with the occasional ripple and moss at the bottom of it.

1) Moves like Jagger- Maroon 5 : Moves like Jagger is just stuck in my head. It won’t go away and I don’t want it to. So we are all happy.

Amazing, new music always makes me happy 😀


This is my 50th Post! Whupah! We’ve reached so far! The biggest thank you to all of you amazing people who’ve read my ramblings! Here’s a pretty cupcake –


(Blue food! ❤ )

(I haven't made this cupcake. The person who did is immensely talented. I'm not.)

Chocolate 2: Last Kiss

I cried till I felt dehydrated. I felt so lonely. I missed my parents. I had never been this far, this isolated from them. It was scary, the responsibility. Especially when they didn’t have my back. I couldn’t even call them!
Originally, I had thought at least I have my friends. Now I am here alone, wondering, do I really? Sam made it sound that I had forced him to accompany me. Had i? Did the others feel the same way?
No. I didn’t force Sam or anyone else for that matter. I am not an ungrateful bitch. It felt good to have them around. I felt safe. But I don’t want to make them feel obligated to do something that they didn’t want to. I can hold my own against the ghosts.
Sure I can.
Okay! I confess. Along with the loneliness, there’s some fear too. Yes, I am scared. A little bit. Enough to have Goosebumps. But then again that might be ‘coz of the cold wind blowing in through the broken window. I just had a jacket. I had left without the blanket in a huff. Stupid silly me.
Oh my God! The wind was whooshing through the trees. I expected the wolves to start howling any moment. I shivered. It was scary and cold.
All the horrible thing happen in cold weather in the horror movies, don’t they?
I covered my eyes with the hood of the jacket. The tree just outside the window made a scrapping sound against the wall. My heart was beating twice as fast. No ways I was going to be able to sleep. No freaking ways.
I thought about hiding under the bed. But the girl under the bed always gets found, doesn’t she?
Something scurried in the room upstairs. Oh my god! Oh my god! Jeesh. Haunted houses were scary.
Suddenly there was a knock at the bedroom door. And my heart stopped beating. Shit. Knocks at the door are never good.
What the hell! I am Rebecca Andrews. I do spooky. I love spooky. The freaking ghost should be scared of me. He should be terrified. I need something to kick his ass with. Oh no. I had nothing. Just the pillow which I hadn’t forgotten to get along.
Oh wow Becky! Are you going to have a pillow fight with ghost? You will be braiding each other’s hair next. Awesome!
A pillow will have to do. I guess. Or a knee in his groin. Do ghosts have….? Will that work? I hope it will.
So I grabbed my hand grenade and my gun and walked towards the door. I opened it while hiding behind it. I felt someone enter. I raised my pillow to hit that someone.
Just as the pillow was about to smack that someone in the head, a very familiar voice exclaimed, “Becky, I guess this mansion is really haunted!”
The pillow in my hands had caught momentum and I couldn’t stop. Thwack!
“Ouch!” he yelled. “I knew you were pissed but I never thought you’d become violent!”
“Oops. Sorry Sam. I thought you were the ghost.”
“And you were planning you fight the ghost with a pillow?”
“Yeah.” I said with a sheepish smile. “There’s nothing else in the room.”
Sam looked at me for a second and then he burst out laughing.
“Oh Becky. Only you are capable of doing something like this.” He said pulling me close and dropping a kiss on my hair. “No wonder I’m in love with you.”
Wait. What?
Did Sam O’Donnell just say that he’s in love with me?
Please tell me he did!
He did, didn’t he?
OMG!!!!!!!!!!!! Sam loves me!!!!!!!!!
It’s too good to be true. It’s true, is it not?
“Sam, do you mean it? Do you really love me?”
Sam became all serious. I have never seen him this way. He was looking intently into my eyes and my heart fluttered. It actually skipped a beat as his blue eyes met my green ones.
“I fell for you the moment I ate those cookies that you had made on Rachel’s 13th birthday which was obviously my birthday too. And she was the one who had friends over. Then you came over to me and gave me a cookie and wished me a happy birthday.”
“But those cookies; they were horrible to the point of being inedible.”
“It didn’t matter.”
“Rachel spitted it out. You didn’t. That was when I started crushing horribly on you.” I confessed blushing. “I love you, too Sam.”
“Wow. That feels amazing. You love me too.”
“Yes, I do. Now can you get to the part where you kiss me?”
“Sure.” He said with his angelic smile. And he did.
Kissing Sam had always been pure bliss. Now, it had just gotten better. The chemistry had always been there and now the feelings were totally involved too.
Sam loved me. I wanted to do a funny dance. After kissing him for a century that is. Well, we did more than kiss. A lot more.
I lay cuddled in his arms after. I felt so safe and warm and nice. My eyes looked up to see a pair of ocean blue gorgeous eyes looking down at them. Those blue eyes possessed the familiar twinkle.
“Hey.” He said smiling beatifically.
“Hey.” I said mirroring his smile. “We should do that more often.”
“That we should.” He said with a chuckle that I felt against my heart.
We just stared at each other smiling.
“God! This is so cheesy!”
“Feels good though.”
“Yeah. I like cheese.”
“I thought you liked chocolates.”
“I like cheese but I love chocolates.”
“Good. So the next time we fight, I’ll just get you some.”
“Don’t give me an incentive to fight with you.”
“You’ll fight with me for chocolates?” he asked incredulously.
“Any day.”
“Girl, you are seriously one of a kind.”
“And that’s the reason why you love me!”
We dissolved into a comfortable silence.
“Sam, I love you.”
“I love you. Now sleep. It’s late.”
“Good night, Sam.” I said turning on my other side.
“Good night, Becky. And I am sorry.”
“For what?”
“For earlier.”
“Sam, you made up for it ten times over.”
“God, I really love you Rebecca Andrews.”I heard him mumble in my hair as I drifted off.
A couple of hours later I am woken up by someone who is probably trying to kill me. The way whoever it is, is shaking me is definitely violent. I hear someone shriek in my ear.
Must be Sam.
“Sam…”I mumble sleepily.
“Rebecca!” comes the voice again more urgently than before. I turn around trying to block it with a pillow. Wait a sec. I am now at the other end of the bed. Where is Sam?
I get up startled. The voice which I now recognize as being Rachel’s is becoming hysterical.
“What?” I ask groggily. Wake up calls in the middle of the night are not appreciated.
“It’s…..it’s….” she is unable to get words out.
“Rachel, I need you to calm down and tell me what’s up.”
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Then with a voice that is barely audible and shaking to the point of being almost incomprehensible she answers.
“Rebecca, it’s Sam.”
“Sam? What’s up with Sam?”
“I met him down the passage. He was feeling breathless so he decided to take a walk. I accompanied him. And all of a sudden he collapsed.”
“What? Is he …is he okay?”
“I don’t know. Jeremy came and he was in control and I just couldn’t be there.”
“We should go. It must have been the change of place or something. He’ll be alright.”
“Rebecca, I am terrified. I cannot go there.”
“Rachel, it’s alright. He’ll probably have regained consciousness by now.”
“No. I cannot. I have a very bad feeling. I just cannot.”
“Rachel, honey.” I said putting my arm around her. She gets freaked out by the tiniest things. “Sam’s as healthy as a horse. He’s going to be just alright.”
“Okay. But you go in first.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
We were for some reason tip toeing down the passage. It was the longest walk ever though it just took over two minutes. My feet became numb ‘coz of the cold. The floor was freezing and I had forgotten my slippers back in the room. It was dark. Pitch black. I could hear Rachel sniffling beside me as we stumbled our way towards the room where Sam was.
Honestly? I expected this to be some kind of joke. Sam was a healthy 18 year old guy. He was young and strong and full of good health and spirits. I expected him to be standing behind the door, waiting for me so that he could envelope me in one of his awesome bear hugs.
18 year old guys just don’t collapse. They don’t. So I expected him to be there; to be standing; to be alive.
What I did not expect was Jeremy creeping out of the door; shutting it behind him looking like someone had just died.
“He’s just fine, isn’t he? This is some kind of weird joke. Right? I mean wow. Rachel, you’re such a good actress. You should seriously consider Broadway. Or even Hollywood.” Turning towards Jeremy I continued. “Now let me go in. I have some ass to kick.”
Inwardly. I saw Jeremy’s expression, I knew what it meant. But that was just not a possibility. What about the ring that Sam was supposed to give me? What about the white dress I was supposed to wear? What about our kids?
Jeremy firmly put his hands on my shoulders. No! No! NO!
“Rebecca, he’s gone.”
“No! He’s not!” I said as a smile formed on my lips and tears welled up in my eyes.
Jeremy just looked at me.
“He’s in there, isn’t he Jeremy? He’s probably laughing his ass off right now! Right?”
Jeremy’s somber expression didn’t change. By now, tears were streaming down my face. Yet, I was smiling. This was just some ploy to fool me. It just cannot be true.
“He’s not gone, is he? Jeremy, out with the truth now! Enough of suspense!”
He still wasn’t saying anything! Why wasn’t he saying anything?
“Jeremy! Say something. Tell me that he’s in there. And that he’s fine. And that he’s alive. Just tell me, goddamnit!”
“Rebecca, He’s not in there. He’s gone.” His voice was choking up. Wow. Jeremy was a good actor too. He closed his eyes and whispered. “Sam’s dead, Becky. He’s dead.”
“He’s not dead. He cannot be dead. Is it Sam you are talking about? Because my Sam cannot die. He cannot just drop down dead.”
“Rebecca, he shouldn’t have. But he has. We cannot do anything about it.”
“You are lying. Let me in. I need to see.”
“No. Don’t go in Rebecca. Don’t.”
“Jeremy, I need to see. I need to see for myself. Please.” I looked into his eyes. He was crying too now. I could hear Rachel wailing behind me but I ignored. I held his eyes for a long time until he finally relented. He moved aside and let me go in.
Sam was lying down peacefully as if he was sleeping. I went and I sat down beside him. I put my hand on his cheek. It was cold. I brushed his lips with mine.
I truly realized the phrase ‘as cold as death’. And I didn’t want to.
I hoped that he would kiss me back and make some comment. I hoped he would open his eyes and look at me. I hoped he would talk to me. I hoped that by some miracle life would rush back into him.
It didn’t.
He really was dead. His life had ended and with that ever so many things. His dreams, our dreams. It was all gone now. All the firsts had become lasts.
It had been the last time he had kissed me.

I effin’ love Landmark

The Landmark in town was closing down or getting a revamp or feeling overly generous so they had a sale.

Actually, I wouldn’t call it sale. They were literally giving away books. I mean, sales are 30% off or 50% off. What do you call when a leading bookstore chain sells books at 70-90% off?

YES! 90% off!

One of my friends Saiber told me about it, I told my new BMM friend Geet about it. And we went.

We entered the mall. We were worried that there wouldn’t be any decent books left. People must be buying truckloads of books! 90% off!

We entered the store and there was a stack of books with 90% off. We shrieked and grabbed two baskets and more than two books.

Then we discovered the young adult section and I found my heaven! I’m a book shopaholic so I must have put some fifteen books in my basket forgetting that I didn’t have enough money for fifteen books.

After browsing all the shelves, Geet and I were forced to choose. It was like Sophie’s choice. You have all these great books at unbelievable rates; you’d be an idiot to not buy them. But you are a bigger idiot if you don’t carry enough cash. Yep, I’m an idiot. Big time.

So, with huge amounts of regret, I cut down from fifteen to three books. I sat with my cellphone calculating the cost of the books. I could just afford them.

So we went to the checkout counter and got our books billed. The guy at the counter took my three books and started billing them. The billing machine screen showed all these crazy numbers like 600 and 834 that got be worried. I had just 200 rupees.

Then he said-“You owe us Rs 73.”

At first, I thought he meant that u got 73 rupees off on my purchase. And then I thought, maybe all the three books were being sold for Rs 73.

“Really?” I asked him.

“Yes, ma’am, really.” He said with an isn’t-this-girl-batshit-crazy-smile.

Well, then I rushed into the store and grabbed six more books. Eeep!


My books 😀

Geet also got many books-


Geet's books

Then I did what any decent person would do. I passed on the news to my bookoholic friends.


Dee's stack of books

Saiber was the luckiest of us all. She lives in the vicinity of the store so she went every other day. Approximately, four times. So her stack is actually a bookscrapper!


Saiber's bookscrapper

Book sales make me happy 🙂

Why do Authors kill characters?

No, I’m not listing down reasons for the death of characters. I know it’s because people die, death is natural, feels for the readers, blah blah blah.

But honestly?

I hate it when authors kill characters. Especially the good ones. And all of them do it. Especially all the top YA ones. Want proof?

Here you go …

This post is spoiler ridden because I have no idea how to do this otherwise.

spoiler alert

1) J.K. Rowling

She gets the numero uno position because c’mon! All the Harry Potter series deaths have been devastating on a different level altogether. It started with James and Lily Potter, then Cedric Diggory, Sirius (I need a tissue!), Dumbledore (I need tissues, emphasis on the ‘s’), Hedwig, Lupin, Tonks, Fred and Snape! Now I need at least a dozen packets of tissues.

But, yeah, The Queen knows how to kill characters.

2) George R R Martin

He is almost at par with JKR (Ooo! That rhymed!). I mean, the honorable man up there warning people about the spoilers? Yep, Martin killed him. HE KILLS NED EFFING STARK! And Robb Stark! And Catelyn Stark! And Khal Drogo! And God-knows-how-may-more. Me? I’ve just read two books and watched two seasons. Can I tell you a secret? I’m actually scared of reading further.

George R R Martin 😥

3) Suzanne Collins

Rue dies!
Prim dies!
Finnick dies!
Ares dies!
Do I need to say anything more?
Okay Ares was a bat. But he was the best damn bat that ever lived!

4) Rick Riordan

Okay, so he isn’t that cruel when it comes to killing characters. But Bianca and Zoe! And Beckendorf! And Silena! And Luke! I ended up not hating Luke. Weird, but he was a hero in the end.
And Blood of Olympus definitely has someone dying. It was there in the prophecy, so he’s getting there.

5) John Green

The only thing I’ll say is ‘Augustus Waters’.

6) Veronica Roth

She killed the main protagonist! It can’t get more painful than this.

So why am I ranting about authors and dead characters?

I finished reading The Giver quartet today. The third book in the series- Messenger made me cry buckets. Yeah, someone dies. But even the death was so beautifully written! I officially love Lois Lowry!

God, I’m sleepy. I’ve not been sleeping well for the past few days. Bizarre dreams that suspend me somewhere between sleep and alertness.

I hate such dreams. Honestly, once I dreamed about locking up Billie Joe Armstrong in the lift. Not that I will ever do that when I’m awake. Dreams are way too weird at times.

Anyway, do you think any other author deserves to be in this list? Tell me in comments!

10 Reasons Why You Should Break Up With Your Partner If They Don’t Like Harry Potter.

Lindsay Kate Ballif

1. He is a muggle, therefore you should dump him.

  • Muggles don’t make good boyfriends unless they’re fictional characters from a different series.
  • Muggleborns, however are a completely different story. 

2. Who Hates Harry Potter anyway? I mean look at him. 

If your boyfriend/girlfriend doesn’t love that he/she has some serious issues.

3. Why do you like muggles anyway? You filthy half-blood! 

4. Men/Women who don’t read Harry Potter tend to be less understanding. 

In that case, when he misunderstands you, you should hit him with the 5th Book it’s the longest and it contains about 800 pages. It hurts. Or if you really want to hurt him, look for Les Miserables unagbridged. (but that’s off topic isn’t it?)

5. Men/Women who refuse to read Harry Potter tend to have little to no intelligence.

  • They like things like Twilight and creepy sparkly fairies.

6. Men/Women who refuse to give Harry…

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