Here- reporting live well and breathing from Trip-Oh-Li. 

I have learnt, that an excess of Everything is the same as Nothing

The mindfuckedness. The numbness. The incoherence.

That should explain why I dont write anymore. Or how I wish to write, but it's just too much to take into account.

(Chicken!)

I refuse to write. To write is to acknowledge. To acknowledge is to feel. To feel is to allow yourself, in all aware consciousness, to be an idiot.

I (einstein ki aulad) prefer being insensate, unfeeling, impervious. 

(SupahWoman Chickenness!)

There goes my optimistic speel of events for the day woohoo. 

Other observations, Libya is good. Food is awesome. I had never imagined having that many achar chicken/gulab jamun/ras malai/qorma/biryani/tikkay/ in less than a week. This supahwoman is gnna face some serious cholestrol problems later, but enjoy the lassi while it lasts. 

Sorry, desi adjustments for proverbs is a side-effect of fratenerizing with desi aunties.

Hardi har haey.

AND ohmegosh the dawats. The 'Eeda is our mehman-e-khasoosi', we're doing a dawat (read brown awkward foodfest) in her honour'. What a ridiculous patronzing position. And somehow, being guest-of-honor automatically (or desi way...atakmatakli)  requires me to eat like a sumowrestler. 

Whine aside, the kindness is a little overwhelming. The lavish gifts and parties and having to dress and doll up and 'haey kitniiiiii patli ho gayee hai! wahan kuch khati bhi hai ya nahee'.

yeah. im on the aunty radar. The page 3 shtraight from kanada speshul.

Haey me.

but more on that later, i have to go tend to (three guesses?) guests. 

we have a dawat at our place.

in.my.honor.

Crap ho-ingz.

-eeda