Hammerblows by Mr. Pink, The Husband (#2)

This is the second post in the series that got more support than expected! Thanks all.   Mr. Pink has a sports injury. He has to undergo physiotherapy and has sessions twice a week. After one of his sessions,   At home Mr. Pink [sheepish grin]: You are not going to like this. Sam [stops watching... Continue Reading →

The author that ignited a passion that became a profession

I have always found my solace in words, for as long as I can remember. I have been most influenced by characters I have read about; no matter if completely fictitious or generously inspired. I somehow could not make sense of people I met in real life. They either obfuscated their motives or didn’t give... Continue Reading →

New series: Hammerblows by Mr. Pink, The Husband (#1)

This is the first post in a new series that I am starting, called: Hammerblows by Mr. Pink, The Husband Mr. Pink is the pseudonym I have given to my husband. He does not wish to be recognised or associated with this blog in any manner that can be traced by the powers above. He's... Continue Reading →

Evolution gave you hands for a reason and it was to (cook and) eat Indian food

Food. Fooood. I even like the way the word rolls over my tongue. My husband, Mr. Pink, says you eat first with your eyes and then with your nose and finally with your tongue. So I imagine that's why some people don't like Indian food. They either like 'pretty' plates where one food doesn't touch... Continue Reading →

Dan Brown’s Inferno must burn

...Or be sent to Recycling - depending on how green you are. I paid for it and read it a while back. I seem to have a knack for paying for bad books. And oh boy! Do I pay! It's always easier to rant about a bad book soon after you have read it. I... Continue Reading →


This, I note with a smile: My own two arms have done just fine. I remember Mama’s words From each time I had whined - ‘Help is at the end of your own arm’, she’d said. Because not many will help without gain, I was taught well I find. Inspired by prompt

Fresh(ie) Memories

At the turn of the Millennium I decided what I had to do - I chose to study Life And become a Philosopher of the minute I speedily devoured text Figures and numbers many To regurgitate when asked The litany But I had no other worries My chores were few The bores although many I... Continue Reading →

A Request for The Three Knots

According to Hindu wedding rituals, the act of marriage, akin to the exchange of rings, is sealed with the tying of the Mangalsutra, which in Sanskrit means 'Sacred Thread' ('Mangala' - sacred; 'Sutra' - thread). It is also known as Thaali or Mangalyam. It consists of a gold pendant with chains on either side, which... Continue Reading →


Tales short or long Happy or forlorn Need a teller – A mighty seller With conviction and integrity With no doubt in the face of reality That many may not fully comprehend The depth of their thought and further pretend To be expert critics and all the while Must still shape their skills using a... Continue Reading →

Can’t sing but can read

The friendly editors at The Daily Post had prompted us (WordPressers at large) to write about/construct a soundtrack to our life a couple of days ago. It didn't inspire me then to write anything 'meaningful' or 'transcendent' even in the mildest sense of these words and the end result can be found here. It did however get... Continue Reading →

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