Freewheeling 2010

I like colour. I don't like detail.

I am not a detail's person. Probably that makes me not so successful.

I like to skim through things. Too many details bother me. That is probably why I am not a perfectionist .

It is good to be a perfectionist. I envy them. At times I feel too much of perfection

makes them look down upon others.

I like to lead my life in a happy go lucky manner. Not that it always works for me.

I like to play with colours.

My daughter loves it when I wear blue. I know the colour becomes me.Basic shades are for me. Red,green,blue,black,yellow,white. That makes for my wardobe.

Pastels are not for me. They are too feminine and not earthy enough for my character.

My colours have to be strong. They have to reflect me,not me them.

In school I had bitten nails. A sign of nervousness for sure.Remember my awkward growing days!

Then one fine day I started growing my nails. I experiment with a wide range of nail colour. Again red,blue, black, navy blue, shocking pink. I have yet to buy a green and a yellow shade.

With my husband's bright idea I experimented alternating with coordinating shades.

An off white sari will see me with red and golden nails.

A black outfit with black and gold/ silver.

My daughter finds it amusing. She is not very much for Experimenting. I let her be how she is.

I know I have Influence on her. Some day it will show

Writing Exercises 10 mins of thoughts 2011

Let the world know that I am there. I once thought I was no one.

My head would always be bent, my shoulders drooping , my eyes dull, my hair so oiled that my face shone from it. I hated myself. I hated my lankiness. Now when I look back There was so much of me that I missed out during those growing up years.

As a child I had been so different. Full of life. Carefree, lovable. sought after, chirpy and what not. Then I don't remember what happened. Things slowly changed. I am not yet strong enoughto write about those lonely days. I do know what happened.

The best part was that my mind was always alive. I talked to myself a lot. I kept dreams afloat, I acted in front of the mirror and admired myself. I didn't get lost in self pity. Unknowingly I knew that I was special . I discovered so many things about myself then. I knew what made me look good or bad. the colours that became me. I knew that I had beautiful eyes. and silky hair.

The days that Idon't look good are because I have not worn the clothes that I like or because I am sad.

I never buy a good sari. I buy a sari that will make me look good. Its a different issue if there is a gift.

Friends love yourselves. It is good not to love yourselves once in a while. That is the sign to pull up your socks