The one where we learn about Zack’s feelings for……

While cleaning out the wardrobe, every single time I complain to Zack about the number of un-used clothes he has.

“I am going to give away all your old T-shirts, you have so many of them.”


After a few days, the man is furious to see one of those very shirts being used a mop-cloth to clean the house.

“Vishaaaa…you did not have any other piece of cloth? You thought of only this T-shirt?”

“I did ask you the other day, you were ok with it”

“You asked to give them away, not use them like this”

I can see him getting bewildered. I tell him that it was really old and it was of the perfect soft cotton material giving the best results, while maintaining a straight face. Resigned to the fate of this T-shirt, he went back to his work.

“I wish you had chosen any other from that lot, why did you have to choose this one”, he quips.

It was a plain solid dark brown color T-shirt for God’s sake, why did he have to be so touchy about it. He never is. I know I am about to roll my eyes when I hear the answer. And so I ask him.

It was complimentary with a formal shirt which I bought ages ago, when I first started work.

I am silent, pleading my brain to understand.

And I have never worn it ever since. I forgot where I had kept it. And today, after all these years, you had to choose only this particular one, to use as a MOP”


What do I learn from this episode?

Zack’s T-shirts have stories!!



After the whirlwind trip last weekend, my sole aim was to go for an Internet detox. The marathon had me spend every available minute looking for fodder online and when the month ended, I was like – no more Internet for few days. In these days, I re-organized my bedroom ( yet again), did spring cleaning in general and tried to make the bed every time Moo was done playing on it. It felt good striking off items from the to-do list and suddenly, the non-blogging phase transformed to more free time at hand.

There are loads of clothes which will not fit me anytime soon and I have stacked and packed them up in the loft. Some pieces I had to think twice before putting them away, it is just so hard to let go of perfectly fine clothes just because they do not fit, sigh.

The pen-pal post I did in the marathon? I am going to write to all of you who signed up 🙂 I so wanted to start writing immediately, but getting ideas for the posts and putting them together consumed most of the time.

This month has one house warming function, anniversary, two birthdays, passport office visits and Moo’s vaccinations, Quite jam packed!

Festival special

The best part about any festival is the yummy food we get to consume in large quantities 😀

The medu vada is one item which only finds place in festival menu, no other occasion. Dunking the fresh, hot vada in an even hotter sambar for breakfast is the only lure for the lazy bums in the family to wake up from their deep slumbers. The magical thing about this breakfast is once you are done, you feel so heavy that you promptly go back and hug your pillow for a small nap. Next comes the lunch. It only consists of the basic fare every time, still it always feels like we have had a kings meal. Maybe that is the magic of eating the food on a banana leaf? There is always some place for payasam no matter how stuffed you are.

When everyone stirs from their afternoon siesta, between steaming hot cups of tea and gossips, the left over vada batter is taken out from the fridge and now the vadas take shape of small balls, to be had as snacks. The evenings will see more such inventions and guests. No cooking for dinner because all the food from lunch is still there, with the exception of rice. The sambar, rasam, poriyal all will be duly consumed and we will call it a day and retire to our respective beds.

The kitchen is in a mess, the dining tables are loaded with the tambulams, the kolam has been disfigured and so many things to be taken care of, but now is not the time, the groaning muscles and aching limbs need some rest, the warm comforter calls and everything can be handled tomorrow.