The Nerd is In

Being a nerd/geek wasn’t ‘cool’ when I was in school – it meant you studied all the time, and no teenager worth their salt is going to own up to studying when in school.

Now however, I see these terms picking up again and it’s becoming a fad. Being a nerd or a geek now means being passionate about something, and I wholeheartedly support this definition. There is nothing as wonderful as hearing someone passionately talking about something…it changes them completely.

Talking to someone who is genuinely interested in something you fiercely love makes for wonderful conversation.

So anyone wanting to discuss Harry Potter without being a Muggle, kindly contact me.



All you need is Banter, and Wodehouse

  1. 1. the playful and friendly exchange of teasing remarks.
    “there was much good-natured banter”
    synonyms: repartee, raillery, ripostes, sallies, swordplay, quips, wisecracks, crosstalk, wordplay
  1. 1. exchange remarks in a good-humoured teasing way.
    “the men bantered with the waitresses”
    synonyms: joke, jest, pun, sally, quip


Banter takes any regular day into the category of awesomeness.

I say so, because I personally love banter. In any and every form. Especially forms including sarcasm, because what is life without sarcasm? 

So, it’s an absolute delight to find people who are good at it. I’m so thankful I have some friends and family who are good at bantering. Because frankly, it makes life so much better.

Now your admirable patience may be finally cracking, and you might be asking, “Why on earth are we talking about banter of all things?! Is there a point. Proceed to reach somewhere near your point”. 

The thing is, I have been re-reading P.G. Wodehouse’s marvelous Jeeves books. And I don’t think anybody could beat Reginald Jeeves and Bertram Wooster when it comes to banter. 


(from the internet)

Like, seriously…

BERTIE: Touch of indigestion, Jeeves?
JEEVES: No, Sir.
BERTIE: Then why is your tummy rumbling?
JEEVES: Pardon me, Sir, the noise to which you allude does not emanate from my interior but from that of that animal that has just joined us.
BERTIE: Animal? What animal?
JEEVES: A bear, Sir. If you will turn your head, you will observe that a bear is standing in your immediate rear inspecting you in a somewhat menacing manner.
BERTIE (as narrator): I pivoted the loaf. The honest fellow was perfectly correct. It was a bear. And not a small bear, either. One of the large economy size. Its eye was bleak and it gnashed a tooth or two, and I could see at a g. that it was going to be difficult for me to find a formula. “Advise me, Jeeves,” I yipped. “What do I do for the best?”
JEEVES: I fancy it might be judicious if you were to make an exit, Sir.
BERTIE (narrator): No sooner s. than d. I streaked for the horizon, closely followed across country by the dumb chum. And that, boys and girls, is how your grandfather clipped six seconds off Roger Bannister’s mile.

Ever since my first foray into Wodehouse, I have been an absolute fan, and there is no other author I would recommend as heartily as I can recommend Pelham Grenville Wodehouse, because if there has ever been books which have made me literally laugh out loud, it would be Wodehouse.

If you’ve never read Wodehouse, go read some now.

Like, really. It’s time.  

And once you’re done reading, it would be wise to go see some clips featuring Stephen Fry as Jeeves, because there couldn’t be a more perfect Jeeves. Also, Hugh Laurie is fantastic as Wooster.

February 14th is the death anniversary of P. G. Wodehouse, something I realized recently. So it seemed like a fitting thing to write about him today. 

(If I sound particularly formal or British English-y in this post, I blame the overdose of Wodehousian literature)


Aaaand the good ol’ Writer’s Block is back!

When I describe writer’s block as ‘good ol” I hope you hear the sarcasm in that. Because I seriously want nothing more than this block to get lost. In Pan’s Labyrinth for all I care.

To tide over my lack of funny-things-to-talk-about, I’m going to mention a show I’m slightly obsessed with right now – My Mad Fat Diary (MMFD). It’s a British teen drama, and though it describes itself as that, let me make it clear that it is anything but shallow.

The show talks about certain mental health issues in a way which is more refined and crystal clear than any other show/movie I have ever watched. And it deals extensively with body image issues, an issue which I think every single person has in some way or the other.

I’m usually not much of a fan girl of TV shows, (except when it comes to Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Sherlock) but this show really pulled me in, hook, line and sinker. It’s an absolute joy seeing how the characters are built up and all the parallel stories come together. A lot of the predicaments the characters get into feel so relatable, and I am not ashamed to admit that I cried watching a few bits (damn there goes my cool dude persona).

You should watch it. It ended a few months back, though I got to know of the last season only a few days back. It’s just three short seasons, so just go watch it and thank me later.

Now. Next topic – A Movie I Do Not Like : Gone Girl.


I just watched this movie on TV, and OH MY GOD WHY WOULD YOU END A MOVIE LIKE THAT?!?! It built up the suspense, intertwining two different narratives gorgeously, and then…BOOM. The whole Haha-the-movie’s-over-and-we-left-you-waiting-for-more. Now this is why I’m such a proponent of happy endings and feel-good movies. Because when I sit down and watch a movie, I don’t want it to end and leave me all jittery and high strung. Ugh. I love thrillers and mysteries, but if the antagonist doesn’t get their comeuppance in the end, it just makes me mad. I guess I’m still a bit of a kid that way.


Okay, now I’m going to go and read some MMFD fan fiction. (HELP I might be obsessed)

Being a Bookworm : Why I love reading

The first book I read all by myself, was an abridged version of ‘The Jungle Book’ by Rudyard Kipling; it was a Disney edition, filled with pictures from the Disney animated film. I strangely also remember my apprehension when my mom (with the kind of wisdom moms just happen to have) refused to help me read anymore, and told me that I had to go ahead myself.

The fear of reading a word wrongly made me anxious, but I went through that book with few mistakes. I can still feel myself trying to hide my pride at having read my first book. That was just the first in endless others.

Reading became my happy place. I didn’t have siblings, so when toys began boring me, I turned to books for companionship, and they took me into their warm, assuring world. It was wonderful. My school library became my favourite place, and the librarians my allies – they began suggesting new books, new genres to me, and I went deeper into the literary ocean. While my friends found it hard to sit through the library period without talking, I ended up trying to find a corner where I could just begin reading a new book without disturbances.

I was a voracious reader all through school, and through most of college. It was during post graduation when I began faltering and couldn’t take time out to read as much as I used to. I’m trying very hard to regain the habit now (though I guess the beginning of a working life might not be the best time to achieve that).

When it comes to buying books, I tend to buy books only when I’m very sure that it’s a book I will love and cherish for all my life; I’d rather borrow a book, read it and make sure of my love for it before I buy it. Which is why my book collection has mostly only my favourites (a few are impulsive buys too).

My mom tells me if I buy any more books, I should contemplate sleeping outside the house so that the books may have some space inside the house. “There’s space for either you or the books in here!” (and she’s kind of right obviously). But when led into a bookstore, she’s just as much excited as I am, and adding to the pile as fast as my dad or me. We’re a family of bibliophiles y’know?

And maybe that’s where my love of books started – my family. And it has continued gloriously, making my life a more wonderful one.

(I expressed my love for books in another post long back…here.)

Do you know what’s Spoken Word Poetry?

How many of you answered, “Yes I do”?

Well…why didncha tell me about it?!

I discovered this beautiful world of Spoken Word Poetry yesterday evening, with a piece by Sarah and Phil Kay(e) of Project V.O.I.C.E. If you love me (well, even if you don’t) please just listen to it.

Can you truthfully say that didn’t blow your mind away?

And this next one I watched, became another favourite

And so, after being enormously awed by this new genre of art, I went to sleep.

A few hours back, my sister put this up –

I cried while watching this one. So heartfelt. And so true, sadly. It just hits you right in the gut. You cannot stay disconnected.

I’ve given you something to obsess about for a while I hope. Because I’m most definitely in LOVE with this art form called Spoken Word Poetry.

You can check out this site too –