When 'woke' is used as a term of abuse, it means the abuser is shaken about you disturbing the status quo that has allowed them to benefit from inequity and bigotry. Wokeness that extends beyond hashtag activism on social media must be worn like a badge of honor.

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That time when you have binge watched the last season of Narcos and are feeling empty as well as searching for another series that can match its chutzpah and joie de vivre.

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What is the relation between a series of suicides at an abandoned clubhouse, an unsolved murder case, and a paranormal investigator's constant nightmares?

#natb #horror

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The second thing to do as a writer is to panic hoard coffee/tea/alcohol/juice/protein shakes/any other beverages and/or snacks i.e. the creativity catalysts.

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Tinselitis: A cloying mix of entitlement, arrogance, narciccism, and borderline sociopathy unique to Bollywood personalities.

#tinseldown #mybollywoodmyrules

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The first thing to do as a writer is to buy lots of stationery.

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Six months in, and I am living with the ghost of a person who is alive—and the ghost is in my memories. Or maybe the memories in themselves are the ghost. 


~~~ Tinsel Down

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I have found that most people around me talk a lot but communicate nothing.

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Loving someone is an act of extreme courage. You are opening yourself up in a very vulnerable way. You are trusting the other person to respect the time, energy, and trust you are putting in your relationship while giving them plenty of space to hurt you. Taking such a risk is a very brave step to take, especially for those of us who are closed off to most people to protect ourselves.

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#microhorror

Finally, I was where I wanted to be- at my new digs in Mumbai. A single woman, living in her own flat, fully independent.

There was just one thing that bugged me.

The window in my bedroom overlooked a vast, empty plot behind my apartment complex. Since the day I moved in, something about the window bugged me.

That something was keeping the window open past sundown-- it always felt like someone was watching me. I always shut the window before sunset come summer or winter.

Only later I would learn that the ghost of a headless woman waited on the ledge below the window, for the first few days, every time a new tenant moved in the apartment.

If your window wasn't closed past sundown, she would climb in during the night, while you were sleeping.

And take your head.

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