Dear World

Dear short-people-on-the-street,

Why are you so short? I'm sorry but it is really really annoying. Your shortness I mean. Not you personally. Your umbrellas tend to poke me. A lot. And sometimes really inappropriately. So please grow up (literally). Or at least hold your umbrellas up higher. Better yet, use raincoats. They're really fashionable these days. At least I see a lot of aunties wearing them so I'm sure you won't be ostracized or anything. Thanks.

Dear monthly-time-of-doom,

You suck. No, really. I hope you know how much I hate you. That will be all.

Dear aunties-in-the-train,

You get deodorants for Rs. 100 now. That's right, they're that cheap. That's like buying 10 packets of Lays. Or 5 bars of Crackle. Or 2 large bottles of Pepsi with money left over. Or one really cheap deo. Not that I'm implying you smell. Not all of you anyway.

Dear peacock feathers,

Is it true that a feather a day keeps lizards away? You creep the hell out of me but if you have the same effect on lizards too, I'm totally ready to decorate my house with you. Even if I do secretly believe that I was pecked to death by a peacock in my previous birth.

Dear How I Met Your Mother,

You, sir, are awesome. I didn't appreciate your awesomeness enough. But the episode where you left me teary-eyed totally opened my eyes. (Did you see that episode? With the whole blizzard thing and "We should own a bar"? And Lily and Marshall's six-pack-of-beer thing? How freaking adorable are they?! The marching band at the airport totally had me reaching out for tissues. Stop judging me.)

In other news, I've made a pact with a friend that if we're both single at 40, we're going to marry each other. And if he's married and I'm not, he's obviously going to have to divorce his wife and abandon his kids. The pact is sacred.

P.S. I'm totally saying totally a whole lot these days.