Monday, December 31, 2012

MM 31 Dec 2012

I couldn't decide if I wanted to try to make a combined playlist on Youtube, Grooveshark, or Spotify, but that wouldn't work out. Why? Well, *puts nerdy glasses on* it's quite problematic to round up all the special covers into one player.

But, here's what I can do. I can give you a last playlist of the year... and hope that this link will give you the playlists (in a weird order) of 2012.

31 DEC 2012

Track List
  1. Iron butterfly theme by Iron Butterfly
  2. Hyacinth house by The Doors
  3. Eyes without a face by Billy Idol
  4. Dancing with tears in my eyes by Ultravox
  5. Hit that perfect beat by Bronski Beat
  6. Monster by Big Bang

Sunday, December 30, 2012

Best Honey Practices

Honey. I don't know much about honey. It is a by product of bees... that's all I know of its production. And I only know two kitchen uses for honey: honey mustard, and honey lemon throat smoother. I'm going to share my two recipes and hope that you share your favorite honey uses in the comments.

Honey Mustard

I never experienced honey mustard until I started working at a cafeteria. It was love at first taste. Since, I don't eat honey mustard often, I choose to make my own. Relative make my own, remember, I'm not a cook. So here goes.


yellow mustard


a container


No matter how much honey mustard you need, the directions will almost always be the same. Just mix equal amounts of honey and mustard together... and you're done! Simple, delicious, sort of cost effective for the casual honey mustard eater.

Photo courtesy of the Morgue File

Honey Lemon

Ok, so, honey mustard is a sauce. This honey lemon conjecture is a sort of medicinal sauce. My family used this recipe a lot during winter when everybody's throat suffered from the mild Texas Winter. Mild, but deadly.


lemon juice


1 tea spoon
a container


This recipe is usually made per serving every time its needed. It's like the honey mustard recipe in proportions. One spoon of lemon juice and one spoon of honey will make enough of this recipe to soothe your throat. Plus, it's natural and delicious!


And that was another episode of cooking with Sopphey. What are your favorite recipes that include honey? I want to know! Share in the comments.

Saturday, December 29, 2012

New Adventures

I sat at my computer Christmas eve. I sat charged, and began branding for a Zazzle store. Which led to branding for this blog. Which led to a Christmas post the next day. But ultimately led to this design.

That design drove me insane. I kept making the S's pop, wither, and even glow. But all that frustration led to one other design.
I sat up straight in awe. (Sometimes designers hunch over their designs, maybe because we're overprotective of them.) My design stared at me, it knew me. It's like a pinwheel, but it's not. A flower, but it's not. It's the negative space of an S rotated thrice.

But it's the graphical representation of me. Of my writing, design, art style. The promise of movement and of something more. OK Maybe, the hope and dream of I want my art to be. Since, it's still a development process for me. But anyway, I took the design and tried putting it on coasters, just to see how it went.

Friday, December 28, 2012


Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week Lillie McFerrin will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word. The word does not have to appear in the five sentences, just use it for direction. Today's word is ending.


While I go crazy, please remember that I was never sane. Hold close to your heart the moment when we first met. We were different then. Loved differently then. Free then.


Thursday, December 27, 2012

You Are A Writer by Jeff Goins

I first heard about Jeff Goins in June when he hosted a 15-Day Writing Challenge on his blog. I can boast a total of 27 posts for June, so I must have been doing something to distract me from the challenge. Regardless, I stumbled upon the book You Are A Writer (So Start Acting Like One) and put it on my to-read list. A lot has happened since June. For one, the 15-day challenge ended, this book has its own website, and I'm finally getting into my writer voice.

Let's get to the book before I get carried away.

It's an easy read. Kind of like reading an extended blog post, too. A reviewer on Goodreads categorized the book as a self-help book that urges you to pitch yourself. I agree, except this book can be seen as a excerpt on the unwritten book titled Rules and Etiquette for Writers, Unpublished and Published. I want to share all I learned from the book, but will only share an excerpt on writing.

You Are a Writer (So Start Acting Like One) begins with the proclamation that some writers are born as opposed to being made. A huge assumption because having writing talent and learning to compose written pieces are valid options in our world. However, this assumption works to bring readers to an acceptance stage. According to Goins, to become a writer one must *be* a writer. Which can translate to: accepting and calling yourself a writer will make you a writer.

I'm very skeptical of this tactic, but let's just go with it. We have officially re-affirmed to ourselves that we're writers, so we're going to write. But, wait! It seems we're missing an elemental piece, or in Goins words: What nobody ever tells you about writing:

1. It's harder than you think.
2. It’s not enough to be good. You have to be great.
3. Nobody cares about you. People care about themselves.
4. It's more about who you know than what you know.
5. You'd better love it. (Otherwise quit now).

This list is the most important list in the book. Yes it's blunt, but it's necessary, and true. Transforming ideas into paper (or other media) may not be as hard for some people as others, but the perfecting or making it legible can be a challenge. Good writing is so subjective and constantly being redefined that it's OK to not shoot to be a good writer. It may be a goal to be a good to be published writer (note: EL James, Dan Brown), though.

Nobody cares. Or at least, nobody cares to the degree you do about your writing. In some cases, readers care about your writing because it resonates with them. Then, readers begin to care about you and your writing. Networking, as in all aspects of life, is paramount to success. The writing world is a mix of agents, editors, publishers, writers, and readers. They all play an important role in your writing circle. Having a noteworthy writing circle, passion for writing, and written work makes a writing career happen.

The rest of the book discusses the writing career. This involves creating a brand, building a platform, and choosing channels to distribute your work. Fundamental tools to generate buzz for your writing.  I recommend reading You Are a Writer (So Start Acting Like One), to find more information on this writing career business.


Do you like reading books; watching movies? Have you ever come across a book or movie that inspired you to write about it? I'm looking for guest bloggers.

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Merry Christmas

It's around 9PM (give or take) on Christmas Day and I find myself typing away. I had no plans for writing today, yet here I am blogging. Or more like rambling, just like the good days. I spent my Christmas with my family, we opened presents, argued, and now we're just doing our own thing.

I've never had any feelings for or against Christmas until this Christmas. Here's why, last Sunday, I walked into my living room and found presents on the decorated ex-daycare cubby hole.

My decorating skills are improving.
They were presents from my Mom to my three sisters and myself. I remember smiling and having a warm magical feeling in my heart. It's a very secular gift giving magical feeling, but it's wonderful. For the first time in years, I felt warmth for Christmas. My thoughts went through scenes of hundreds of people of all ages waking up, heading into the living room, and finding gifts. And I thought of all those people feeling warm at the sight of the odd boxes, the colorful wrapping paper, and vibrant bows.

My mind then traveled through the newest empty homes of Sandy Hook family members. I became sad. Then mad. Then sad again. Then confused.

The joy of secular Christmas, I suppose, is family. That's something I'm learning to accept, something I'm recently enjoying... and something I wanted to share. See, readers, bloggers, spammers, Internet... it's this ecosystem that moves. I'm thankful for that ecosystem, and I'm thankful for this Christmas because it made me realize that we're all family. So, Merry Christmas.

Monday, December 24, 2012

MM 24 Dec 2012

You can listen to this week's playlist at Spotify or in the embedded playlist below.

Track List

  1. Blue Christmas by Low
  2. Deck the halls by R.E.M.
  3. Silver bells by She & Him
  4. Jingle bell rock by Rogue Wave
  5. Winter wonderland by Kate Havenevik
  6. It's beginning to look like christmas by Fuit Bats
  7. Little drummer boy by The Dandy Warhols

Sunday, December 23, 2012

How to Minty Hot Cocoa

Delicious minty hot cocoa.

I can't cook so I mix drinks.

That is generally a problem if I'm mixing liquor. Well, it's generally a problem because consuming lots of delicious drinks with boat loads of calories is not good. Yet, drinks are my forte. Especially, delicious drinks. For instance, minty hot cocoa.

Now, if I were a barista I would use milk, chocolate syrup, mint syrup, and an industrial espresso/steamer machine for this creation. But, I'm not a barista. I'm a poet who designs a lot and leaves her mugs by the side of her desk. I use water, hot cocoa mix, mint hard candy, and a microwave. Let's make minty hot cocoa.


1 packet of instant hot cocoa
2 unwrapped mint hard candies
1 cup of water


1 mug
1 hammer (or something similar, I use a metal-like lemon squeezer)
1 plastic storage bag
1 microwave
1 spoon


Fist you crush the hell out of the mint hard candies! I mean, err. Place the mint hard candies into the storage bag. Close the bag tight. Clobber the candies with your hammer! ...crush the candies until they make little specks of their former selves. Think smaller than peas but bigger than sprinkles.

Note. You don't have to use a storage bag, I didn't.

Pour water into your mug then add the crushed candy into the water. Now, this step is the most important part. It's science. Place the mug into the microwave and heat for one minute.


Remove the mug carefully (can't trust these mugs in the microwave!). If your microwave is like mine, the candies would have melted into the water. Now, they need to scientifically join hands to make sweet minty joy. Stir the candy and water mix and place the mug back into the microwave. Heat for one minute.


Remove the mug from the microwave. Stir once more, add the hot cocoa mix, and wait. Or maybe not, I would burn my tongue if I didn't wait. Ultimately, enjoy your drink.

Friday, December 21, 2012


Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week Lillie McFerrin will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word. The word does not have to appear in the five sentences, just use it for direction. Today's word is vision.


She walked underneath a clear starry night with a half waning moon. Hid her hands in the pockets of her purple hoodie while grasping the leash with her finger tips.

She stared at the dog while it sniffed and scratched at the grass.

"Hurry! I'm cold, you're cold; let's go inside."


Thursday, December 20, 2012

Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham

I'm reposting my first collection of anything. The first major project in my young life, a collection of 13 movie reviews. You can say that these movie reviews spawned my hobby of watching movies and sort of "learning" from them.

You can read the entire collection here.


Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham

The screen changes from the credits to Amitabh Bachchan, he plays Yash (Rahul’s father), in front of a gradient background.

“Why is it that a father is never able to tell his son,” he says as if reciting poetry to a large audience, “how much he loves him? He’s never able to embrace him and say ‘I love you my son’?”

“And the mother?” says Jaya Bachchan, she plays Nandini (Rahul’s mother). “She keeps repeating it, whether her son listens to it or not.”

“But that doesn’t mean a father loves his son any less.”

“No one can fathom the amount of love that a mother has for her son, not even the mother. Because there is no measure for a mother’s love. It’s an emotion that can only be felt, a mother’s emotion. Rahul, my son... my life!”

Yes, another story about a mother’s love, but this time Shahrukh Khan plays an adopted son who has a mother. The story begins in the present with Rohan, Rahul’s younger brother. Rohan is in the middle of a game, he’s up to strike the winning goal, and in his head he’s replaying something Rahul told him 10 years earlier:

“If you want to be someone in life, if you want to achieve something, if you want to win, always listen to your heart. And if your heart doesn’t give you any answers, close your eyes and think of your parents. And then you will cross all the hurdles. All your problems will vanish; victory will be yours. Only yours.”

Rohan wins the match and returns home for Diwali (festival of lights to signify the triumph of good over evil and attainment of Nirvana). On his way home, Rohan stops to meet his two grandmothers who tell Rohan the complete truth on why Rahul is no longer home. This goes back 10 years, at the celebration of Diwali, where things changed for the family.

See, Yash, like any good wealthy traditional father, believes in keeping traditions and is against love marriages. When Rahul returns home from college, he falls in love with Anjali (Anjali #2!), a poor girl from the Chandi Chowk market region of Delhi. However, Yash decides to arrange Rahul’s marriage to his friend’s daughter and Rahul’s childhood friend. Rahul is against it, and tells his father that he wants to marry Anjali. Yash pulls the, tradition and family honor card and Rahul apologizes to Yash saying he’ll do anything his father asks of him.

Rahul goes to Anjali to tell her he can’t marry her, but finds that Anjali’s father suddenly died. Moved by knowing that Anjali and Pooja, her younger sister, have no other family he marries Anjali on the spot. Rahul brings Anjali home, enraged Yash disowns him and calls him a good deal of bad things including something along the lines of, “you would do such a thing because you’re adopted!”

This devastates Rahul, Rahul says his goodbyes to Nandini, Nandini asks Sayeeda (Rahul’s and Rohan’s nanny) to accompany Rahul, and Rahul, Anjali, and Pooja leave to London. Then, there’s intermission and since I had also watched Kuch Kuch Hota Hai that night I said “screw that,” and went to bed. Too much heartache before bed isn’t right for the soul, you know.

Especially, because I saw a lot of my grandmother in the way Yash behaves. My grandmother is all about tradition, proper Mexican women, proper occupations for Mexican women, and proper behavior towards adults. Which, I thought was complete bull shit 14 years ago. Now, well now I know better. Being rebellious and considering all adults and children your equal (sort of) makes me odd. Strange, odd, weird and sometimes unliked.

Back to the movie, the second half of the film deals with Rohan’s attempts to reconcile his family. Rohan arrives in London, tracks down Rahul, enrolls at the university where he finds Pooja, and he enlists her to the cause. Rohan learns that Rahul has a business and a son. Pooja tells Rahul and the rest that Rohan is her best friend’s brother from India and needs a place to stay. Rahul grudgingly lets Rohan stay at his home and Rohan becomes a part of the family.

Slowly, Rohan encourages Rahul to go back to India and even convinces Yash and Nandini to visit London. His plan fails, but for an instant Rahul and Nandini share a reconciliation moment with lots of tears, sad music, and well happiness. Yash and Nandini go back to India, Anjali tries to persuade Rahul to reconcile with his father, but Rahul is convinced that his father doesn’t love him and only returns to India for Yash’s mother’s funeral.

It is then that Nandini confronts Yash. “Do you know mother always says that,” she starts, “a husband is God. No matter what he says. No matter what he thinks. He is always right. You brought Rahul home one day; right. We gave him lots of love; right. He became a part our family. He became my life; right, absolutely right. Then one day he left home and went away. Wrong. You let him leave; wrong. You separated a mother from her child; wrong. Your family shattered to pieces; wrong. Then how does a husband become God? God can’t do any wrong can he? My husband is just a husband, just a husband; not God.”

Rohan finally convinces Rahul to visit Yash, both Rahul and Anjali visit, and Rahul confronts Yash. Yash is standing in front of the fireplace, Nandini is sobbing on Rahuls shoulder, and Yash turns around. Tears are streaming down Yash’s cheek, his eyes are redder than Mars, and his entire soul stands meekly waiting for his son.

Rahul and Yash walk toward each other, while some sad music plays, they meet halfway through the library, Rahul is hesitant, and Yash closes the gap between them.

“You took my words,” Yash says, “so much to heart that you went away. Didn’t even look back once. Didn’t come back even once. Didn’t come back.”

“Where did you call me back, Papa?”

“Do I have to call you back?” Yash slaps Rahul, “Am I not elder?” He slaps him more, “Did I have to call you back?”

“I thought you didn’t love me.” Rahul holds his cheek, “I thought you didn’t think of me as your son.”

“How could you think that? How could you?” Yash holds his hands up as if carrying a babe, “I brought you into this house for the first time with these hands. You completed our family. You fulfilled all our dreams. How did you think…?”

“I thought you didn’t love me. Didn’t love me.” Rahul barely whispers.

“I love you very much, my son. Love you very much. Just... just couldn’t say it. In these ten years, I have thought about you every moment every day. I thought of you so much that, I felt like embracing you and telling you how much I love you.” Yash puts his hands around Rahul’s cheeks and removes them. “Just couldn’t say it. Elders’ anger is a part of their love, my son. You took it so much to heart that you got angry and left home...? And I didn’t even call you back.”

“Why would you call me? I should have come on my own.”


“I should have come on my own.”

“Why didn’t you come? Why didn’t you? This is your home. You are the elder son of the family. You are my son, my son. And now I have grown old my son. I have grown old.” Yash holds his hands together as if praying in front of him and Rahul holds Yash’s hands. “ At least forgive me now. At least forgive me now... At least now.” They both sob and Rahul hugs Yash.

Rohan enters the scene, Yash calls him forward, and the family is now complete. There’s a bit more crying, but it’s happy tears. The film ends with Pooja’s and Rohan’s wedding and the belated celebration of Rahul’s and Anjali’s wedding.

It’s a sweet family story that reminded me of my own family story. My family and I have gone through some strange situations that I had discarded and locked away. After I watched this film, I remembered “everything.” I remembered everything I had set aside about my family. The little things like, my father swears worst than a sailor, but only out of the public eye. He also likes to learn and wants to know about everything. Everything, even concepts he doesn’t understand because he only had some elementary schooling. Also, if you find my father crying he’ll respond “Me? I’m not crying! I just have a little something in my eye.”

I remembered how my mother is sometimes frail. The constant arguing, nagging, and “Mom you’re a pain in my ass,” really bothers her. It’s like she beats herself up over the way she acts toward us. At the same time, she likes to play tricks and execute pranks. She’s also the Mexican Martha Stewart always wanting the cookies to match the season, the meals to be carefully planned out, and dishes to match the table cloth.

I came to the realization that I love our family. Damn, twisted love. Also that, I think Mom and Dad are so alike sometimes; that’s why they love each other. Even after 16 years of being separated my Mom and Dad go on dates. Because, they’re almost the same person yet different. Like completing each other.

Well, we freaking complete each other. My mother, father, my older sister, my younger sister, and my youngest sister all make up this amazing dysfunctional immediate family. We all need to contribute to become a better family. We’re all incredibly talented people and know how to make each other laugh. We also run a game of “who can beat up who,” a lot but if we cut through that bull shit we would be so much happier.

Regardless, I still love us and because I see this, I should be the one to push the rest. I’ll be the one that cooks, cleans, and comforts the other. I’ll be the one that stays around to connect the family. Because, that’s what I forgot. I forgot that that I’m the one that holds us together. Yeah that sounds noble, narcissist, and all other kind of crap. But really, it’s my duty. It’s the real reason that I’m home right now.

My mom always brags about me to her coworkers and I compare myself to their successful daughters. Recently, since late May, I compare myself to the daughter of Mrs. R. my mom’s old boss. See, I always blame Mrs. R. for getting in the way of my mom and my family because my mom works incredibly long hours. But, then she died of cancer. I had seriously relied on hating her for her entire lifetime and now that she’s dead I have no idea how to think of her. It’s fucking ironic.

I didn’t get to attend her funeral but I did attend the rosary reading gathering for her, volunteered my sincere condolences, and comforted her daughter. Mrs. R.’s daughter is around thirty or so and she laments never knowing her mother that well. Like a typical educated Mexican daughter from the Rio Grande Valley, Mrs. R.’s daughter moved on with her life. She pursued a degree, married, and divorced.

Mrs. R.’s daughter now lives in Mrs. R.’s home and, supposedly, is slowly capitalizing on Mrs. R.’s property and other liquefying assets. I didn’t want to be like Mrs. R.’s daughter. I don’t, in fact. I don’t want to come back home to realize that my mother is dying. Seriously, I want to enjoy the couple of free hours a week that her work permits her, even if she comes home, lies on the couch, watches some television, and drifts to sleep from exhaustion.

At some point, I’m going to see my dad again. I’ll get to know him before he gets too old to talk about philosophy and the dawn of God with me. That’s more important right now, well that and developing my company. I have all the time in the world to exchange hours for profit. But, I don’t have all the time in the world to actually meet and know my parents and my family. We’re only just beginning to get to know each other and it’s going great. One Angry Hour at a time.


{ Previous - My Love Affair... - Next }


Do you like reading books; watching movies? Have you ever come across a book or movie that inspired you to write about it? I'm looking for guest bloggers.

Let's connect on Twitter or Facebook! Stay up to date with new posts! Connect with Google Friend Connect, RSS, or E-mail updates on the left hand column.

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Walking Feet

This week's Wednesday Poetry Prompt sounds a lot like what I usually write, sort of.

Prompt: Take a true event (whether in your life or another’s) and fictionalize it. You can determine how far to take the fictionalization, but try to push the envelope a little and make people question how much is real and how is fake–and hopefully, have trouble leaving your poem even when they’re not reading it.

Walking Feet

You should walk

the walk to work with a backpack
full of lunch, snacks, and a laptop

30 minutes a day, everyday

took 45 minutes on the cloudy days
a little bit longer after sunset

and without fail

wouldn't know if my socks had thinned
or my shoes were never a proper fit

you'll lose the weight

I couldn't stand the three-inch blisters
I cut off the dead skin with a plastic knife

Monday, December 17, 2012

MM 17 Dec 2012

You can listen to this playlist on Spotify, or in the embedded playlist below.

Track List:

  1. Monday Morning by Christina Aguilera
  2. Hex by Mike Foyle
  3. Turning Japanese by the Vapors
  4. Nothing to Worry About by Peter Bjorn and John
  5. Roam by the B-52's
  6. Girls on Film by Duran Duran
  7. Love Will Tear Us Apart by Joy Division

Thursday, December 13, 2012


Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week Lillie McFerrin will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word. The word does not have to appear in the five sentences, just use it for direction. Today's word is devotion.


She drums the fingers on his left hand over the kitchen table. Her right hand holds a pen tight as her eyes scan through the scene she reads on her laptop screen. The unopened new printer box sits on the floor. A book waits to be edited. And God, God's knocking at her door.


Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Kuch Kuch Hota Hai

I'm reposting my first collection of anything. The first major project in my young life, a collection of 13 movie reviews. You can say that these movie reviews spawned my hobby of watching movies and sort of "learning" from them.

You can read the entire collection here.


Kuch Kuch Hota Hai

Wikipedia says this movie is a romance comedy. Well, considering it made me teary I’m guessing something went wrong with me. Kuch Kuch Hota Hai is a story about true love between best friends. The story starts out in the past with the voice of Tina, saying, “Hey Rahul, want to be friends?” Followed by this are scenes of Rahul and Tina happily in love and Tina has a child. At the hospital though, Tina dies and leaves behind eight letters for her daughter to read. Tina’s last dying wish is for Rahul to name their daughter Anjali.

No, that’s not a freaking sad way to start a movie. Not at all. The movie doesn’t give you a break to dry your tears at all, it quickly sends you to eight years into the present with Rahul and his daughter Anjali (referred to as young Anjali).

“Hi! I’m Anjali,” states young Anjali with a microphone, “and you’re watching channel Anjali.” It’s really cute and funny because she stops her show because she has to meet her father. Unfortunately, Rahul is two hours late, but he has bribes like flowers, chocolates, a pink stuffed bear, and a party hat to appease the wrath of young Anjali. Which isn’t that bad because she forgives him.

Then, young Anjali competes in the “Just One Minute Competition,” where she fails to come up with something to say and cries in front of the audience, as her topic is mother. Rahul intervenes for her and says, “A mother is someone who loves us so much that we sometimes can’t understand it. A mother is someone who makes us realize how good we are, there is no one better than us. Her happiness is in our laughter and sorrow in our sorrow. She is someone we can’t live without; she is everything. Only we don’t have her.”

He says all this as he kneels in front of young Anjali and continues, “But we have papa and he is quite nice too. Hm?” he asks and they both nod. “Then you give me a hug.” It’s so touching and yet at the same time it leaves me wondering, who would actually do that for their daughter? Alas, only in movies.

Later, back at Rahul’s house, his mother asks him to consider remarrying for the sake of young Anjali and for his own happiness. Rahul looks away from her and replies, “Mom we live once, die once, get married once, and we love once. We don’t do these again.” And he says, that even though young Anjali doesn’t have a mother she has something more than he; young Anjali has her mother’s letters.

Young Anjali runs straight for the letter as soon as the clock strikes twelve. She opens it in anticipation, and reads the letter. Tina begins the letter by wishing young Anjali Happy Birthday, saying that young Anjali is now a big girl, and making fun of Rahul’s habits. Then, the letter goes into something serious. It reads:

“Today I will tell you a story about your father, me, and Anjali.”

The film goes back to the past where everyone wears bright colors to relay the tale. Rahul and the tomboy Anjali are best friends attending St. Xavier’s College. They’re kind of like the top of the food chain and have an interesting dynamic, Rahul is the ‘cool’ dude-skirt-chaser and Anjali is the obnoxious tomboy. Anjali reprimands Rahul for his behavior and Rahul explains to her that he’s only chasing these girls until he finds his true love. He is looking for a girl who makes something happen in his heart. It’s ‘something,’ that can’t be described in words, true love.

Then, Tina, the principal’s daughter, enrolls and disrupts their lives. Rahul instantly falls in love with Tina. Tina is beautiful, feminine, sophisticated, smart, and witty; she’s the opposite of Anjali. Well, Rahul makes a comment about love in class that makes Anjali realize that she loves Rahul. Rahul said, “Love is friendship. If she can’t be my best friend I can’t be in love with her. Without friendship there is no love.” Thus, a love triangle forms between the three. Anjali attempts to be more like Tina, but the college only laughs at her. Either way, Anjali is motivated to tell Rahul her true feelings but Rahul only confides in Anjali that he’s in love for Tina, leaving Anjali heart broken.

Anjali leaves college all of a sudden despite Rahul’s and Tina’s attempts to convince her to stay. Anjali leaves and neither calls nor writes to Rahul, ever. In the letter, Tina explains to her daughter, young Anjali that if she hadn’t stepped in, Rahul and Anjali would have realized the true potential of their friendship: love. Tina instructs young Anjali to find Anjali and reunite her with Rahul. Young Anjali recruits her grandmother and together they make a plan to find Anjali.

Meanwhile, Anjali is no longer the tomboy from the past. She is a beautiful, well-groomed woman engaged to marry Aman. And, even though she confesses to her mother that she doesn’t love her fiancĂ© and can only love Rahul, she agrees to marry Aman within the week. Young Anjali begins to pray when she hears of the future wedding and miraculously, her prayers are answered.

Anjali’s wedding is thus postponed to December. Then, young Anjali learns that Anjali will be a dance instructor and a summer camp, so young Anjali begs Rahul to let her attend, but he refuses. Regardless, Anjali and her grandmother go to the summer camp and Anjali learns of young Anjali’s parents. Rahul misses his daughter and rushes to the summer camp when he hears young Anjali sneeze on the phone.

Anjali and Rahul meet again, their love blossoms, but one thing leads to the other and Anjali decides to marry Aman sooner rather than later. The wedding date arrives and Rahul and young Anjali attend the wedding, all three of them are extremely devastated. Rahul visits Anjali before the wedding and Anjali gets cold feet. Aman drags Anjali down the steps, a running joke, but he realizes that he would never be able to make her happy and delivers Anjali to Rahul. Rahul and Anjali then marry and an ecstatic vision of Tina appears to congratulate Young Anjali.

The end, happily ever after… it’s really a sweet movie and really cute. I had to watch half of the movie that night and the other half the next morning. The same thing happened again, my mother asked me, “what are you watching?”

“A movie,” I replied and cried some more. I wasn’t the happiest person alive, then; not that I’m even happier now. But, I stopped ignoring the void after watching Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. It’s like something happened in my heart. The one-sided-fan-crush on Shahrukh Khan inspired me to change. Because, that’s all you can do when you’re unhappy with yourself.

Change is the hardest thing to do. I decided that I’m way behind on the change thing. Just like I’m so behind on the life thing. I’ve created a perfectly solid bubble around me that heavily filters my emotions, thoughts, and actions. I say only a tenth of the things I should say, I forget almost everything, and all my emotions lay tethered to the bottom of the sea.

I’ve literally spent the last 10 years thinking, “well if I had done this… that wouldn’t have happened. If only I had made wiser decisions. If only I wasn’t so dumb.” I kept digging and digging at a pile of broken memories, hoping to find a perfect piece with no smudges, cracks, or problems. But, no, I wasn’t that lucky. That cycle, really has to stop, and it’s probably going to take me another 10 years to make it stop.

The change began after I finished Kuck Kuch Hota Hai. The next movie directed the change to make me a less selfish and more accepting person that I can be. This leads to Kabhi Kushi Kabhie Gham a story about family.


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Do you like reading books; watching movies? Have you ever come across a book or movie that inspired you to write about it? I'm looking for guest bloggers.

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Saturday, December 8, 2012

Felt Tips Anthology Cover Release

One of my short stories will be appearing in this Anthology! I'm too excited... well except for the kerning. Damn my design knowledge!

Friday, December 7, 2012


Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week Lillie McFerrin will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word. The word does not have to appear in the five sentences, just use it for direction. Today's word is time.


I miss parts of me I didn't know I enjoyed. It's as if a cloud has possessed me for my eternity. This cloud that severely blocked every receptor of joy. This cloud that doesn't seem to pass doesn't define me because I have wings. It's my time to fly.


Monday, December 3, 2012

MM 3 Dec 2012

You can listen to this playlist at Grooveshark, on Spotify, or in the embedded playlist below.

Track List
  1. October - The Helio Sequence
  2. Hey Jane - Spiritualized
  3. Feels Good - AVAN LAVA
  4. Baptism - Crystal Castles
  5. Heavy is as heavy does - Menomena
  6. My love is real - Divine Fits
  7. Somewhere to hide - Shiny Toy Guns