we paint 'em Yellow!

nothing better than to blab on a day when you have done something for the first time in your life!
also, when the blabber was long overdue.

and today being just that day
that day, when you do something that you've had never done before.
that day, when you feel that sweet sense of self gratification seeping through.
that day when the feeling of self gratification overwhelms the adrenaline rush.
that day when there is that warm fuzzy feel inside you, for something done by you.
that day, when you don't feel selfish for feeling so good about yourself from within.

and who would have thought, painting walls will feel so good.
and who would have thought, aching hands, neck, back will feel so good.
and who would have thought, color stained jeans will be the source of such joy!
(though, on a completely different note, this definitely wins me the argument with Mamma for new jeans!)

painting walls. check!

p.s. when was the last time you did something for the first time?
p.p.s 'coz someone wanted pics.

re-visiting times and place

love me like you do

takes me back to those times.. those times of shared ear-pods of the iPod. this song played on loop. those metro rides across the city. those aimless trip-ing of the trip-y traveler. the song.. singing along out loud when not in the world. lip syncing when amongst the world.

the trip-y traveler's memoirs.

happy memoirs.

 * as someone very rightly said, 'dilwalon ki Dilli!' ;) *

"Yes"

the box that screamed #Surprise

the box that oozed #Love

the box that had the #Dreamer

the box that had the 'pome'

for the bestest Wednesday in a long long time!

for the indulging.

for the royalty.

for the carefully noting of the minute fantasies.

for the shared love.

the box that deserved the #Yes.

Diwali '16

first Diwali away from home.
not technically.
yet if you really get down to the nitty gritty of technicalities, it is. the. first. independent. Diwali. away from home.

and the first Diwali where each one of us are in different coordinates.

and this is where the homesickness hits hard. yes. it helps a bit if you have the Man come over for a pit stop en-route his destination. it helps a bit more if he carries those carefully wrapped goodies sent with tonnes of love from Mamma. it helps a bit  more with those long conversations.

i miss my Mamma.. and the Diwali cleaning.

for, i have the Diwali cleaning bug handed down from her to me (yes. OCD.) but i dont have Mamma here with me now.
growing up is not not fun.

so, this Diwali, it will be the candles, lit outside the door.


the first Diwali.




p.s. when was the last time you did something for the first time?

Durga Pujo 2016 - food diaries : Saptami

Durga Pujo instills a feeling of joi-di-vivre.

it brings with it, good food and most importantly the need and desire to just go out an dexplore new destinations for food. and so, begins the pujo sojourn. and the good food diaries.

it starts from Saptami. seven is definitely a magic number. day 7.
his wish was to try every outlet on that stretch of road. hop, skip, jump, in and out, and repeat.

we began with Chaayos. for, morning begins with chai-shai :) suleimani, desi and cutting! and of course the conversations. being oblivious to the crowd helps especially on a day when you feel you have all damned eyes on you. well, that's the Durga Pujo and Being Bong vibes! and no one's complaining. and it gets better when the awesome place throws in a free cuppa! hello Seven! you sure are magical.

so, 3 and one freebie cuppa later, we decide to say goodbye, with a silent promise to come back to this place later.

happy beginnings. happy mornings.. rolling over to the afternoon!

and the pictures say it all!

p.s. such a rusty post after ages. the fingers and the mind simply refused to be in sync. or maybe i am just getting old and age is finally catching up with me!

Food-Camp

Returning 'home' sure means the food treat.
For me, returning home is, in itself, nothing short of a conundrum.

Let's skip all the technicalities and further complications, and stick to the part where 'home' translates to being a place where the parents are.
So, this was my returning home after a month of being away from home..And yes, I was all set to be on the other side of the food camp!
Sure, there have been no dearth of food. Neither was the quality left wanting.
But 'ghar ka khana' is ghar ka khana, after all. And Mamma cooking, is a different ball-game altogether!

So, the first trip back home. And being the Daddy's Darling, for course, the royalty was ensured! And how! The flight was delayed courtesy traffic scenes. Followed by severe turbulence while flying.. But all said and done, managed to take off and land on the same date! Ride back home amidst all those stories that were waiting to come out, late night supper, followed by tea and gossips with Mamma.

The food camp began the next day. Breakfast, lunch, post-lunch, evening supper, dinner and dessert! That was the lot! And extravaganza showed in retail therapy in between the food camp! ;)

And the last day was more of Mamma's last ditch attempt at making me a food cargo! And by the conclusion of lunch, which was again all of my favourite stuffs, I was almost dangerously close to burst. And of course, packing food for the night, and even the next day. Yeah, I'd be lying if I say that I didn't miss that.

So, I'll be carrying a bit of 'home', tucked away safely in a posh corner of my 'rayees' bag!

And I know for certain, tomorrow's lunch, will be the second best in the month!

Till the next food-camp. It's a wrap!

My Sunshine Week

It was scorched and desolate. Both the surrounding natural environment and the within mental state. The respite used to entice in drifting phases - clouds and breeze on the outside; and the 'within' witnessed bear hugs from the Man and M conversations.

The world was all like a daze and I was a stoned entity (read "stoned" as "doped" a.k.a "Narcopolis", and you'll know in exact preciseness what I mean)! And in the end, it was just the countdown to being eastward bound. Definitely no-way close to being the favourite destination, but some people make up for it. And as always (and will forever), they matter more than this place.

And a complete gastronomical delight it was! Of course, pleasant weather and my first rains of the year. Favourite food, cooked by the favoutite Him; that "Yes, I know.. You don't have to tell me" look and that heart melting smile. That constant "looking out" for me in  his own small and in utmost incognito manner. But, I knew them always. His, after all. Those everyday long chats over hot cuppa, the waiting-for-me every evening for that 'chaal bhaaja, chanachur and cha' and that extra bit. Those stocking of the things I love. Those "talks" that He knew very well I'd have never asked, despite the extreme yearning and longing for the same.

And making super secret plans for the last 24 hours, before I go skywards again, and making a Big Day out of it!

Yes. He made sure, I had my Sunshine.

He made sure I had my favourite things.

I had Him. And He knew that.

Because, all you need is one "look" straight into the eye. There is the "Yes, I know" smile, only visible to us.
And the hug, that makes me want to hold on to it forever.

-The Trip-y Traveller

p.s. Chaal bhaja-chanachur-cha doesn't taste the same on this side of the country.

-TTT

"Remember to forget" - ttt

to the boy who made me laugh even when we fought


i sometimes forget
how your eyes shone when you teased me at the moment i was almost angry
and i paused, breathless, and wondered how someone could tear me between 
distance and desire so easily

i sometimes misplace 
how your hair smells
and in my blindness
i run my hands over every rough surface of my body
wondering why my skin never retained your touch
the way my mind did

of all the things that made home in me and never let go
there's that uneasiness which remains

and when it gets quiet enough at night
you can still hear my bones struggle beneath my flesh
seeking your presence
wrapped around them
like a song, always playing
in the night, always playing


p.s. : something borrowed from a blog page.

p.p.s. : not mine. but somehow it struck and it stayed. i'd be lying if i say i don't know "how", for it turns i know perfectly well the "how" in this case. and the funny part is the 'coincidence'. the freak coincidence. and that's not what i appreciate. because, i hate to even think that in a parallel universe, there's a creature who is so alike me and so better equipped in terms of faculties, that the creature can so effortlessly make the thoughts translate to something legible, and that makes me feel betrayed and exposed. which is not something that finds acceptance. and yet, being so tempting and alluring in itself, makes me resign to it, albeit grudgingly.

M!

Throwback picture from six months back

(for that's the nearest in the recent times that we have)
When we were together after six long years.
Same frame and same place were probably too much to ask
So all we had were those long whatsapp chats.
(double yay for the voice notes)

And now that you're back where you belong
And this is also taking far too long
So, I'd better hurry and wrap this up
As "short and sweet" is how I was taught.

Be good. Be wise. Be crazy. Be nice.

That's as far I go with the rhyme!

Happy Birthday M!


p.s until next time!

Waiting

when you sleep on a song.
a strange and never heard before song that makes you groove even when you're part dead on your bed.
wake up the next day.
figure out a couple hours later that the weird feeling which you woke up to can be traced back to the song last night.
scout the internet for that strange and never heard before song.
wrack your head and memory in a bid to get out something tangible enough to put in the search bar.
the jubilation when you finally come close to the original speck of cloud in your memory and the exalt when you hit the jackpot.
string of downloads.
songs on loop.
hours on end.


p.s. 'subconscious' is a very interesting space with lots of winding turns and corners.

aufgegeben

hey you
i thought we were good.
didn't turn out to be true.
'coz barely a month in
and you ain't being the way i'd though you would.

hey you, 1423
you and me
it doesn't really seem
that, we'll agree.



p.s. and somehow i make THIS rhyme! never will i ever find a thing when i really look for it and where i really really need it to be.
p.p.s bah! humbug.
p.p.p.s oh hello there, Friday, the Thirteenth.

(dis)order

ocd.
everything has its own time and space.
so it is said.
and thus born-eth thy - ocd.

what is not said is that underlining part.. not everything is tangible.
the tangible is the easy one to deal with.

alignments can be met with.
positioning can be done.
perfection is simple.

what do you do with the other part?
the intangible one?
which is unruly in the very foundation?
how do you stop that from taking shapes and forms?
how do you stop it from running?

how do you fight that?

trip-y traveller's travelogue

it was the farthest the trip-y traveller had ever been.. the farthest from the home.. the farthest corner of the place..
it was new.. it was exciting..
there was a certain amount of alien-ness in the familiarity.. the trip-y traveller felt like a stranger in a strange land which was not strange enough in its uniqueness yet strange enough to make it seem like a foreign place..
the trip-y traveller was definitely THE stranger.. the stranger who tried hard enough to be a part of the surrounding.. but maybe, that was what made the trip-y traveller alien enough.

but it was the land of prettiness..
and the trip-y traveller gathered enough to etch a smile..

the Charm!

the charm of the 25th..

you ask "what?"
i gush. "oh yeah!"

before any further, that's the reason i say its the charm:

• it's a Girl! a sweet lil' princess with pretty eyes and oh-so-dainty!
• bitchy session with the Clone! (oh yes, i so needed that!)
• frozen mango yogurt for two.. identical.. and i get the one with real mango pieces! and big ones!!!

p.s. the above incidents are all unrelated and have no resemblance whatsoever with each other.
p.p.s 25th works it's charm even on a Monday!
p.p.p.s Blabber-ing helps too! *Chuckle*

Night'mares'

they are generally of the order of monsters hiding under the bed.. mostly during nights.. second mostly in dark rooms, when the lights are off.. at least that's how it used to be some two and a half decades back.. i strongly believed that Mamma had magic powers in her fingers and the monsters were rendered immovable even with her standing at the doorway.. and at that moment i used to feel like the greatest and the bravest power! albeit 'borrowed'! but the hell with it! it was my Mamma!

two and a half decades since then.. i have grown.. pretty much vertically till the time gravity caught up.. no more afraid of dark rooms.. somewhat skeptical of my early days' belief  of Mamma's magic fingers.. new found love for Grimm's Fairy Tales for what it really is and not for what it was portrayed to be as and yet at the same time being tremendously fascinated by the manner in which it was successful in portraying what it did.. made a mental note of the camouflage tips..

but, two and a half decades later, nightmares still exist.. maybe not in the form of monsters under the bed.. for, now, my bed has no 'under the bed' provision! and thus proves the fact that monsters don't really hide under the bed and pounce upon you when it is completely dark..

nightmares.. they still manage to bug me.. exactly a year back i had it at worst.. or so i'd thought.. and the effect of it being, me booking tickets to my cities of love.. back to back weekends.. of course long weekends helped.. and love sure helped! and so i'd thought that i had the last of it.. the last of waking up, startled, in the middle of the night with statements floating around in empty space taking scary forms..
which brings me to this very term "nightmares".. is it something to do with "horses"?  but, if you ask me, they aren't that vicious even in their looks.. bushy tail and dopey eyes.. and the 'mares' are definitely the most polite ones! they even let people on top of them! so, they ain't the evil messengers..

but maybe, it really has something to do with "horses".. Harry Potter had "Thestrals".. and they were scary.. at least scary looking.. so maybe, night'mares' indeed..

enough with horses, i think..
the bottom line being, they still happen.. they still hold true.. irrespective of dark rooms or under the bed.. irrespective of someone else's magical powers.. they exist..

and they still somehow find their way back at me.. sometimes as 'statements'.. sometimes as 'teeth'.. and sometimes as weird feelings that blur the thin line of distinction between dreamland and reality..

p.s. high time, these night'mares' metamorphose into unicorns.. i can definitely do with some magic, now that the city of love is too far away. 

questions

how do you really know what matters?
is it the approval or the decision?
or is it the knowledge that it's your responsibility?

and if it really is about responsibility, then how do you know "responsibility" from something that is not?
again, how do you know what is what and what is not?
what do you decide to be the how?

when do you decide the what? and why do you settle on the how?
is it because of who?

if it is, then, who?
how does even who matter?

unbeknownst.

i miss you
a wee bit more than i usually do

i wish you were here
in person to tell me, all that you used to.
i wish for it
a wee bit more than before.

i miss your chats.
i miss you all set and ready with a stick daring anyone to say shit about me.

i miss your plans.
i miss your words.
i miss you tip-toeing.
i miss your playful prying.

i miss you most.
unbeknownst.

happenings

things happen..
sometimes all at once..
sometimes nothing at once..
sometimes, it all happens in a set order.
sometimes, happenings are chaotic..

i have been told myself, all through my years of existence. "it happens". "it will happen". "it had to happen". "shit happens".
i have said myself the same things all through my years of living.

and then when you really hope for something to happen, you don't really get that happening. and again the same loop.

so, for me, it goes like this.

something happens.
i try to get a hang of things.
dip my toe in the water and the stuff.
then comes a big wave.
frantic case of flying arms and hope for a rubber dinghy.
float for a bit.
get used to the excitement.
and then it's a flatland.


and i get "this happens" from someone, somewhere.


p.s. patience, i must have. maybe turn to "Fishermen".
p.p.s patience.

memories

this song has memories for me.
first memory goes back to my school days. the last few days in an obscure little 'city'. it was farewell scene. the last dinner with some of my favourite people. it had food. it had liquids. even for us kids. it had us, those awkward teenagers then. and it had them, those awkward parents of equally awkward teenagers. there was twinkling lights. cold monsoon air. the soft strumming of the guitar. and the voice of her. cascading over the still night air.

i still vividly recollect the exact set up of the time. of the place. the faces.
it's my happy place.

the next memory came to me at a place away from "home". alien faces. alien surroundings. alien feel. alien sounds. alien life. when i was not an awkward teen anymore. but moved on being a more awkward young thing in twenties.
but for this. this was familiarity. this was safe. this was "home". this was smiles. it held the promise of new beginnings.
it was still my happy place. this time, a little bigger than the last time.

and just when i thought, that i'd 'grown up'.. just when i felt that i'd better lock these up and put it under, it came back for redemption.

this time, again with my favourite people. some strangers. some not so strangers. but all with the same share of love.
but the setting was a bit different from the previous settings.
this time it was me.
this time, it was started by my favourite guitarist.
this time, it was encouraged by self-proclaimed serious critic.
this time, it was accompanied by one of the most loved / loving stranger.
and this time, it truly felt like coming home.


p.s. i want to go back to that place. take me back to that place.

march crazy

i learned an old word today.
no. my bad.
i learned an old phrase today.

the thing is, that 'phrase' is just a 'word' so, i was not entirely wrong when i said that "i learned an old word today."

phrase.. word.. in this case, its one or the same. so choose whatever you want to.

so, getting back to it.
i learned an old word today.

no.. you read it write.
and its no typo either.
that's how it stands.

"how?" you might wonder.
simple.

the word was not a stranger. the meaning was not a stranger either.
so what did i learn?

i learnt a particular 'direction'.

*knowledge is wealth indeed*
**muahahahahahahahah**
***evil laugh***

Arriverderci!

i don't really do well with changes.
but the all this damn world does is change.
like it or not, this one also happens to be a part of it.
so, a middle ground is the most sought after place.
and as all sought after places happen to be, this one too is tad bit on the pricier side.

this one was not really "sudden", to be fair on the world. this one was coming for quite sometime. i also happened to know about it for the same amount of 'quite sometime'. and i didn't really think much about it.. figured, "will deal with it when it really happens".

looks like i have to do with a lot of "dealing with it" now!

and amidst all this, inspite of all the hate-stories construed around you, with you being the centre-fold of supreme hatred (and i still blame you for spoiling my party plans on what would have otherwise been a legendary Monday, the 14th!), i wish you good! you were the 'Hari Sadu' of my stories, of my plans, of my abusive tirades, of those scheming plots with my Man. you were the one, i always made sure to stay out of sight, work from behind the scenes. took all the  caution to never come face-to-face with you. and yet, knowing that you ask about me, knowing that you are even aware of my existence, made me feel really happy.. almost on the borderline of gloat. and i thank you for that.

i'm going to carry this tiny bit of recognition to my grave!

and if one was not enough, there is Rat! you were always the smiling one. always the nice one towards me. and i'm sure i'm the only one to have us in a candid frame. and i'm keeping that preserved/framed for eternity!

looking at all this, i think i'm really really fortunate. or maybe somewhere, how-so-ever tiny it might have been, i must have done something really really good to have deserved such a huge thing!

so, wherever you people go, wherever the wind takes you, i hope it all turns out exactly the way you wanted it to be.

you'll always be remembered!
in stories. in tirades.

you'll always be the Hari Sadu. and Rat!

farewell!

Bong much indeed!

starting off from where i left off in my last post.

and my belief in the good things stand affirm post that small 'hiccup' of loss of faith. (and i stand corrected about the name of the show. its david rocco's dolce india.)

fortunately that was not the be all and end all of the 'calcutta' food series. and this time it had the trademark bong in the food and the mix of italian when he cooked. it had the familiarity of "shorshe baata", "posto baata", "kaancha lonka", "holud guro", "shorsher tel", "ilish maach", "bhetki maach", the stinky "maacher bajaar", "bhar'er cha", "motorshutir kochuri", "alu'r torkari", "dhaka parotha", "roshogolla". yes.. now the proud bong in this pseudo frame of mine is happy..

and more than happy, the proud bong is relieved.

p.s i think it all depends and matters the most on the kind and type of guide you have when you're off on a tour to a place unknown.
p.p.s but i still stand by it when i'd said that i expected D.R to be thorough with his research if he's shooting about a new place.

Bong much!

i usually follow food blogs.. both the write and the photo kinds.. have a few favourites.. envy a couple bloggers.. male female all inclusive.. and that has nothing to  do with my personal orientation. (dude! it's food we are talking about here! who cares who makes it as long as it looks delectable and tastes ravishingly brilliant!) so, the blogs.

and this one concerns a tv show. my favourite Italian as the Anchor. David Rocco's Dolce India on Fox Traveller. favourite to the extent that i wait for each new season to be aired.. and also wait for any reruns. and this new season has him back in india, exploring a cuisine he quite fancies himself with. so obviously, my interest level can be expected to be up and high with the drool worty italian cooking on screen and trying out insane foods.

this special episode has him covering street foods of calcutta. (ok! its then calcutta, now kolkata. but it's always going to be Calcutta for me.) and first shock, the local guide is a VEGETARIAN non-bong! a girl that too! complete wannabe looks.. anyway, i figure the hell with the girl i still have david rocco to look at and the food.

so, they begin their journey through street foods. the first one "kati roll".. check!
the next stop, being some dal vada in front victoria. wierd
the next stop, alu ghughni.. check!
the next stop, Jamrul from a thela wala.
and of that was not enough shock already, the next stop was a sure shot pick-axe thorugh the heart! besan chilla! i ask you, me no true bong. but i surely bet my life that no damn bong worth his/her salt will ever say "besan chilla" is 'calcutta special/ authentic calcutta" street food.
followed by Kulfi.. and i have all my reservations as to how bong this dish is!
and finally, when i had given up all hopes, from somewhere some angel prevailed and "phuchka" came in the picture. a huge sigh of relief.. check!

and then it's his turn to cook. so, its ITC sonal bangla kitchen at his highness'  disposal.

and he decides to got he street food way. ok. i know, this episode is going down as one of the wierdest. and of course, nothing to say for my disappointment.

he rustles up jhal muri.
deconstructed chicken kabiraji. utter disappointment, I tell you. trust me. he just destryed the very grandeur of the dish by doing it with dices chicken pieces. the less i say, the better.
and the worst part, the chaat!
not because he decides to make chaat. also, i can forgive him for associating chaat with calcutta.

but i expect a certain amount of research to be done on his part for this show. for the food which you eat or you cook ( taking inspiration from). and there in comes the detail. chaat doesnt have dahi in it. only a dahi chaat will have dahi in it. these are just the details. and i believe in those details.

the whole point of doing a 30 min worth calcutta food special episode seems lost.


turns out that i do a better job of being a Bong inspite of being 'Pseudo' that those who claim to be Bongs but a no less than 'Pseudos' of the highest order.

G(l)oat-y!

A Goat-y Gloat Post or a Gloat-y Goat Post?
Well, I leave it on you.
You decide.
I hog.

Slow roast for the lazy beings.
Sunday dinner, by the Man.

*Bon appétit*

oh the woes!

a girl can never have it easy! i tell you.

that kind of a day, when you have one too many clothes in the wardrobe and not enough earrings. so, you have clothes spilling out of their designated places (yes, i have OCD) and that is enough to spoil your Sunday morning mood.. and when you think that you will put on 'jewellery' to get over the frown, you realise you don't have any befitting the 'mood' (or the lack of it!).

and then again, you don't really need shoes, but you can never have enough of them either. and if that was not enough dilemma already, you are pestered to no end to get yourself a pair of 'runners'! this, as a matter of fact, is actually a good kind of pestering. and then you  realise that you do have shoes in the closet which you haven't worn for a long time (you don't even remember when was the last time you'd taken them out) and you still have them occupying valuable and priceless space in your extremely precious closet because you find them too pretty to throw them out!

oh damn!
it's so not easy being a girl!


so the last resort being the s.o.s call to the girlfriend. she sure knows the current answers all the time!

p.s. : breakfast by the man, helps too!

first meet - 2016

my strong belief in 'firsts' stands ratified and validated.
*too much law jargon, if you ask me. and yes, this being the after-effects of heavy cramming in a short span of time.. meeting deadlines, is a charm.. i tell you, and you'll agree.*

getting back to my faith in "firsts".. this one deals with the date. the first day of the first month of another year.

we began, being on the same side of the planet. began in the same time zone. and before the month ends, we live up to the beginnings.

first meet since he left the country.
first meet after a year and a half.
first Date, after a year a half!

same Him.

Hello 2016!

This was long overdue.
But I still console myself with the fact that it is allowed to wish people Happy New Year till it's technically January. Though I know, that this time around, I'm cutting it really really fine.

That's what happens when you have a terrible horrible holiday hangover. And yes. It is real. All very real.
(shudhu maal khelei hangover hoye na)


And by the last day of 2015, I had most things on my list checked off!

2015, overall was a decent year. Not very great on the personal front. Work front, it was a constant frequency curve. Things eventually did work out. It all ended on a happy note at least on the face of it.

The major part of the year (practically the entire year) was busy in that set routine-get up, coffee, run, dress, leave, traffic, work, traffic, come home, eat, sleep and repeat. In between breaks, some tripping around, and otherwise not much of a social life, per se.
January started with a promise of love. And the crazy mad work scene was the customary villain Guess, villains, do take the first round and promises are meant to be broken. It all depends on being the smart one at the end. And that's what April was all about! 'Being Smart' by putting on my trip-y shoes.. Lace up and off to my cities of "love". And me and villain, were squared up. It was game on!
April, May, June was another round of insane crazy, with the villain upping its stake and taking the round. Getting older was a somber affair. But, we made it extravagant. Italian, this time.
July was the lull before the storm. And July was the Big Fat Bong Wedding. With the trip-y traveller eastward bound, it was all glittery shiny fun! for, when the clone gets hitched, you make it a big deal!
August was when the plan finally happened. The date with other side was on. September was bad. Real personal low. With Roshni, no more.
October was subdued, even with the birthdays and the pujos. The loss was still haunting.
November was a deliberate attempt of getting enough with the haunting-ness. Diwali with folks after 20 years, in a place which will never be "home" and with people who are always "home". Another round of trip-y traveller being eastward bound!

November being when things finally reach the finish line. Without much of  a hassle. So far so good. And December, was when I see the other side. Eighteenth day being the longest day in my life ever.
New people, new land. First stamp on papers. Flying over the north pole. When the day had two breakfasts, two lunches, one evening snack and a dinner. Colder climates. And first sleep on a bed on the other side of the planet.
Clone meet ups, touristing in subzero, snow storm, winter wonderlands, posing with the nut cracker, christmas lights, buried under a foot of snow, christmas parties, dessert bakes, gift wraps, road trips, dressy affairs, jam sessions with guitars and mics, new people, nice people, Starbucks, and loads and loads of liquidity!

Did i forget love? No way! That was love, more than I ever imagined or asked for.

The last day of 2015, with my favourite people, in my dreamlike setting, with pretty lights in a fancy down town place, counting down the final seconds, and beginning the year from the same side of the planet! Yes, i believe in the beginnings.

So 2016 began with a toast to a new beginning. A toast for love. A toast for a silent wish. It began under the dreamy lights.
2016 started with me getting the perfect dress. Started with a song. Started with a new year wish without calculating the time zone effect.
It started with a trip to a place. It started with great food with the best people.

So yes, goodbyes, especially this one, was the hardest. Because, I was leaving behind the happy me. The love me. The smile me. The cheer me.

But there was a solace. For, there was the meeting, on the other side of the planet. For I believe, beginnings do matter.

2016. You better be good, this time.