Reflections of a restless eccentric

My fiery friend C, whose outbursts are poetic, recently wrote this on a social media site: Another Brahmin acquaintance asked me today, ever so casually, if I were a Brahmin. This is the umpteenth time this has happened now. I am beyond immensely appalled at several micro issues this single question encompasses: 1. How 'easy' it is for a Brahmin to ask someone if they belong to the same caste as them. Imagine a person from any other caste asking this question. Go ahead, just imagine... I'll wait. What? You cannot even conjure up the hypothetical situation? 2. Why is it that a Brahmin needs validation? So is it like, if someone outsmarts them in any respect, they would be unbothered and at peace only if the other person also happens to be a Brahmin? Because anything else simply doesn't make any sense? 3. And why is it that anybody who is a Tamilian and a Vegetarian can only be a 'Tam-Brahm'? I am truly surprised at this existential generalization: > A Tam-B

Sometimes I think, I should have been that complacent ambitionless person who is content with everything life throws their way. Sadly or otherwise, I'm not that person. I have dreams-- giant dreams in vivid hue that fill my soul with fire every time I think of them. But I also bear the curse of many a millennial- procrastination. My dreams are always relegated to a mighty dusty shelf in time called "someday". I dream many dreams, and I know deep down that I can achieve them. I am good enough, strong enough and capable enough. At times, I even get to the stage of meticulous fine-grained planning that involves breaking down a top level goal into achievable smaller chunks. Till this point, I am perfection personified. And then comes the point where you actually pick up each one of those smaller chunks and execute them. Honest to God, till date, I have almost never done a decent job of that. I say almost because there have been some things I have completed, but never to

During a lunch table conversation, a colleague told me that his wife was repeatedly and tremendously annoyed by the fact that the waiter always gave him the bill and not her, even when she was paying for the meal. He mentioned other such instances, where she was infuriated by the ever-so-subtle gestures of the men in this world. Well, she's not alone. This is one of the things that endlessly plagues me, and incidents of the recent past make me want to write this. Incident one:I went to a friend's wedding with my husband. We walked onstage to congratulate the couple, and the groom was the nearest to me, and my friend on his left. Instinctively, I extended my hand to shake his first...The entire sequence that followed is crystal clear in my mind.The bride put forth her hand assuming I was congratulating her, and the groom was taken aback that I was actually offering to shake his hand. It took two seconds for him to actually proffer his hand and for my friend to retract hers, a

My phone screen flashes with an incoming call. It is a name I have been familiar with for over 15 years now. And I know what this is about- she's getting married, and is calling to invite me for it. I pick up the phone with a smile and a hint of trepidation- for how do you speak to someone after an entire decade of silence? Before you conclude that this silence was because of a nasty fight or something of that kind, let me clarify-this is not one of those things. It is more mundane than that, and sometimes I think that makes me sadder. I met her in my early years of school. We were born ten days apart, and had several things in common. Among the few friends that I had back then, she was one of the closest and staunchest. Over the years, through primary, middle and high school, we evolved and so did our friendship. I remember walking back to the parking lot after school everyday with her, and this used to be the part where we told each other about various anecdotes from the day.