My mom is just the BEST. Seriously, how’d I get so lucky? Not only is she a smarty (an all-India topper in college, meaning she got the highest score in political science in the entire country) and a beauty (I mean, just look at her), but she’s the most compassionate, caring, unselfish, strongest woman I know. Feelin the love todaaaaay.

things that made me smile today (and it’s only 3pm):

• phone calls with my parents just to check in 
• my mom’s undying love for terrible bollywood films
• hot chocolate for breakfast
• two adorable babies in a café 
• overhearing the two families talk about their newborns
• unexpected emails from friends
• nostalgic music distracting me from studying
• life in general

yep, this is my london update (oh - and during the past few weeks I’ve gone to the royal ascot horse race, seen the queen, gone for a play called “chariots of fire”, joined societies, started volunteering at a local school, and taken a boat cruise on the thames)

but you know, all of that seems less important when you’ve got things like best friends, baby toes, and hot chocolate in this world ;)

(inspiration)

I haven’t written in a long time. I don’t know if I even remember how to write, so please excuse me if this is a totally disorganized post. I’ve been avoiding words for these past few months (or years?), which to be honest just really really sucks. Writing used to be my outlet, but now it’s as if I can’t describe anything in words, as if they’re not capable of conveying what I feel anymore. So I’m attempt to reclaim some of my sanity/creativity/something with this potentially selfish post.

I’m in London and it rains a hell of a lot. Okay, it’s only been a day so I’m in no position to judge, but between maneuvering an umbrella with 50,000 (or what seemed like 50,000 at the time) native Londoners on the sidewalk and trying to have a conversation over traffic and impossible weather conditions, the city was asking for it. The result? I said “oh cool” when a British student told me his mother had cancer last year. Yeah, I know. It was bad. Although I’m still not sure what he was saying because I couldn’t hear him at all and only realized afterwards that he may have been talking about his ill mother while I was just nodding along and trying not to whack anyone with my umbrella (I don’t know, is it my height or something that’s getting in the way?) as we walked down Kingsway. Anyway, I don’t think he could hear me either so we’re good. Great premise for those who love to talk about themselves I guess - no one can hear what the other is saying! Unfortunately (or fortunately) I’m not one of them.

But there are so many good things (I just get carried away when it comes to bad weather - the reason for the poofy thing sitting on my head, formerly known as my hair) like all the strangers who smiled at me this morning (in a non-creepy way, I think) and the accessibility of the city and the beautiful buildings and adorable cafés on every street that make me want to sit and drink coffee and eat and dance and take photographs and read and talk and write. Yeah, they really make me want to do all those things at once. It’s amazing. Magico.  

So before London, which basically translates to “before today”, I enjoyed a four-and-half month summer in Delhi and all I have to say is that it was the most peaceful and stress-free time I have had since I was four. Lots of family, lots of cooking (I finally learned how to do this and it seriously changed my life - to all of you non-cooks out there: learn it. do it. don’t live on fried eggs and burn toast, trust me), lots of hot days and sweaty runs (I learned how to do this too - slightly less enjoyable than cooking), lots of photos, and lots of love.

This was my last day in Delhi (my nine-year-old cousin, aka the love of my life, celebrating her birthday):

(thanks to Candice’s post I realized it was about time I got some of my creative self back from beneath the schoolwork and laziness and overwhelming commotion of daily life)

I wonder if his son was killed by another human being,

or in an accident.

I wonder what his son was doing in South Africa.

(Did he live there?)

I wonder if his son was in his twenties or perhaps early thirties.

His dad looked young.

I wonder if his son had somebody he loved with him when he died, 

or if he was alone.

I wonder if his son was married, had children of his own.

I wonder if his son had the same brown hair as his father,

maybe curly instead of straight.

I wonder what he liked to do, liked to eat, liked to watch.

I wonder if he loved life.

I wonder if he was happy.

I think he was.