Early morning quiet. Being an observer of my family doing their daily thing.
Being forgotten.
Inability to take myself less seriously.
Their natural advantage.
Many models. To name a current one, Sridhar Vembu for being a heretic.
Maybe my handbags but I don’t fully understand why I haven’t stopped indulging.
Equality.
Every night to myself about the time I will rise the next morning.
Nothing to dislike. But I have a silly thing for slender noses and shapely eyebrows.
The journalist-activist types.
To maintain a woman’s mood(s).
Without a doubt, my father.
In my gap year, in my head; enlightened, reading books on end.
Photographic memory.
Start writing regularly.
An Octopus; with many hearts.
In a quaint village perched on top of a hill, amidst nature and around people I don’t know much.
Scribbled margins of a collection of poems.
A complete loss of control and fortitude to bounce back.
A writer, an artist, a performer—all the same.
Depth of passion.
Their forgiveness.
Bheeshma.
Arjuna.
Dev, Kaveri, Meera.
My sleep cycle.
Consciously.
Be excellent. Or die trying.