Creative Hiccups

Posted in 1 on April 9, 2009 by sandhya sethu

For I cannot stand. I can run.I can put up pictures of Christmas in Spring! Its called sexed! Get with the program !


For purple is gay! I will love it! Because it is sexed!


For we act like fools! Because this picture makes me laugh and cry at the same time!


For passion comes from the dust off my thinking caps! Because sometimes I hate with a passion. Because I love to hate!

(I am a hypocrite)


For Loosing hope is easy. Because I am all grown up!


For I love feeling warm and fuzzy inside! For I love being in love and making people fall in love!



Loving the Masala

Posted in 1 on February 27, 2009 by sandhya sethu

I found my old diary today, reading it made me laugh so hard: Four years ago I hid in black clothes and I was smitten by the idea of being alone, dark and depressed. It all seemed so beautiful, poetic and arty. I spent days sitting by myself penning down morbid and painful poetry about heartaches and death. All of that I believed was a portal into the emptiness of the soul. Today, I laugh at the poetry, I laugh at what was and I cannot believe that I wrote things that I can’t seem to recognize anymore. I guess we all go through that stupid phase in life when we want to seem cooler than the rest just by pretending to have some deep insight to the world. I used to read works of philosophers from around the world in hope that I would have the meaning of it all. I can hardly recognize that person anymore. Those days I hated Bollywood movies and I thought they were movies created just for the masses; masses of idiots that is. I would sit alone in my school’s art studio drawing pictures in dark blue and black, while listening to Radiohead on loop. I thought being with people or socializing was overrated and I preferred to sit with my own demoralized, dispirited self. Now I can only look back and laugh as here I sit, in a white shirt, blue jeans and white sneakers with pink lines, wondering how to spread love and happiness. I wonder what my past would have thought of my future. I know I would have raised an eyebrow at this optimistic, unusual someone who bakes cupcakes for random strangers on the street, all in the name of love. I used to be spiteful and rude, I have no idea how my character did a three sixty on me. I am addicted to Bollywood drama and love stories oozing with romance deep-fried in a pan of sticky-gooey corniness. I listen to love songs trying to see my picture in names that pop up in the lyrics… Ramona, Sicilia, the girl so fair, darling, baby she, her and you. Anything to keep the love flowing. I have tears of joy when I see happy endings and I cream over the thoughts of the heroine getting her first kiss. Oh so much magic! I still love Radiohead but it feels different now. I listen to a man singing about his neighbor telling him that a dog just died and it was slaughtered at night and I trust the mid line in the chorus that asks you to look at happier things or something like it. At night I dream of palatial Bollywood set, the kind with Abhishek Bachan or Shahrukh is doing some jatak-matak dance step with some hazaar other people. I’d dream of me stealing a hug behind a shaking flower or a large banyan tree while remembering tongue twisting lyrics and thinking of the next dance routine that would follow the hug. I do remember that I wasn’t all that mean back then, I was really sweet at times but when being sweet didn’t work out I just remained sour. Now well I notice how when sweet doesn’t work I bake cupcakes or tarts to solve the problem. What disgusts me is that sometimes I sound like a Betty Crocker of love. I used to enjoy watching dark movies with deeper meanings, now I love jingling bangles, old school love stories that make me feel weak in the heart and buckle at my knees. I think you get the picture, it just feels strange though because I have no idea







A travel log

Posted in 1 on November 28, 2008 by sandhya sethu

I feel awful about whats going on in Mumbai… I feel numb, lost and very afraid. I cried alot…. as I don’t know how to deal with the fear sometimes. We could have been there… in their place.. in their lives… Its hard to imagine how painful all of this is for those who lost their family and friends. I am sick to my stomach by the evils of today’s world. I can’t understand whats going on… I don’t know how long we can all pretend to be perfectly fine in this crazy world. I have no idea how I can process all these thoughts. I tried ignoring what happened, but I knew it won’t go away. Where are we headed?!

In an effort to bring back some sanity…. I just want to shift my attention to something else for a few minutes. I know I can’t hide in memories… But I just want to relive the happier times …of my trip to the small towns and villages of Rajasthan… where I had no idea what the date was… or which day of the week I was living… I was with people who expressed love…. and hope…. Coming back to a big city…. Back to “Big City Problems,” makes me think…. why do people emphasize on a need to “help” smaller communities? They seem much more happier and more content, in comparison to the chaos I have come back to!!

I hope and pray that we see a brighter tomorrow.

















Posted in 1 on November 1, 2008 by sandhya sethu

Today was fabulous! I baked 2 cakes and spent my evening making small, useless flowers so that the cakes would look pretty. Well they look my granny’s pearl necklaces, but what the heck, they taste nice. I ate the crumbs… It was easy to decipher that they were quite nice. Anyway, better start college work now. Ugh! The misery.

The usual ramblings

Posted in 1 on October 30, 2008 by sandhya sethu

I burnt my fingers today, silly little accident. I held my breath as usual and tears rolled down my cheeks, but I’m okay now. I want a dog, I had one, but sadly I had to go. I want one so bad, so bad that I visited a site that gave me a test. The test would decide which dog would suite me best. The battery of questions included a few nonsensical questions. Questions that made me wonder if I was talking one of those dumb, comso quizzes. You know the kind that tell you that you are a looser at relationships (you don’t have a boyfriend, your guy friends think you’re just as good as any other sweating, movie buff, guy friend they really don’t need to be a rocket scientist to figure out that you suck at relationships!) … but they blame it on the fact that you’re not wearing a Chanel dress or  those ‘Christmasy bauble’ like earrings that will attract his attention. Obviously it will attract his attention, you look like a human Christmas tree. He wouldn’t see the huge ass Dolce and Gabbana logo on it… He would be running away.. then again would it make a difference if he saw the stupidly large logo. But anyway, I don’t want to digress, loves. Ya, the god darn quiz, well questions like am I a lazy woman, who hates cooking, yada yada. After answering them, I wondered if small Paris Hilton dogs, for who you buy pink totes and trot around with them in it. Well thats what I got. Hairy, hairless, ugly, rat looking, creepy little things that would probably get lost in my large backpack. How very boring! I wanted someone majestic, loyal, friendly and who could offer to clean the dishes with his/her tongue and I got painted nails, Fifi and diamond collar, Coco. Obviously I had to cheat! I went back tweaked my answers and got what I wanted, a great dane and a lab retriever ! But I didn’t sleep too well that night….. Am I a Coco, Foofoo, Lulu kind of person!? I think I am going to pass out!

Hide and sliiiiight

Posted in 1 with tags , , , , , , on October 26, 2008 by sandhya sethu

I worked on something for myself for once. I was sick of conducting myself… Holding on to my feelings and walking through college projects.. My mom hated the cellphone. She asked me why? I said it was important. I do not know why. Why is the lady holding a cellphone in her hand and why are there lotuses on the side? I have no idea.. I thought it looked happy. I hate answering questions that ask for reasons. Does everything need to have a reason? I like things that are loose ended… where you fill in the blanks with random phrases such as Binky, the polar bear or Jojo is bad for you!

Looking back at old paintings and doodles … I realised that most of my work has no real meaning or reason. It just shapes up to look the way they do. Happy and happily twisted! Oh joy!

Older work…….

Bad teachers and personal conflicts

Posted in 1 on September 2, 2008 by sandhya sethu

Mr.Hegde is just another sexually frustrated man. My first memories of the term “sexual frustration” came when I was in the eight grade. An über cool girl in class who practically got caught for everything from copying in tests to wearing short uniforms, introduced a class full of bleary eyed girls to the term. We had a rough week, a teacher who told me she would tighten my braces so that I would stop talking, just because I asked the girl next to me for an eraser. The teacher was awkward, tall but not lean, boring but not in the amusing sort of way. She was like a mouth full of pasty white sauce that had no salt and no pepper. Well, the hot, catholic school girl, during lunch, held our attention by loudly ( a little too loudly) proclaiming that our pasty whit sauce teacher was sexually frustrated. We gaped, and giggled, blushed and peeled into laughter.

A few years later, every teacher who was boring, depressed, lonely and pissy was sexually frustrated. I threw the term around and it was an all time favorite joke. Sexual frustration was the reason I failed my history test in the twelfth grade, at least thats what I believed to be the truth. I mean the fact was that I loved history, maybe if someone wooed her and got her drunk… and some more, maybe I would have passed the test.

Today, everyone in my life who is cranky, talks in a squeaky voice, a gets drunk alone on a Saturday night is just frustrated… sexually. The term is bounced off everyone, its still funny and comes out when I am really angry. Its not like any of us have an active sex life, most of us don’t have one at all, but we like the term, its silly, slapstick and oh so demeaning.

Rajesh was a hot guy. But his squeaky voice gave it away, he was frustrated too… sexually