Rambles

I'm 28. But I feel like I'm 27. 

I've missed the boat. And that bus has sailed away. 

Today in the park a man was having a conversation. With himself. 

Plan B

Every morning my husband takes out two shirts from his closet. He probably already knows which one he will be wearing to work that day, but somehow he finds comfort in having a backup plan. 

And unfailingly, every morning he asks me for my opinion. Some days he takes my advice and other days he disregards it. Last week, annoyed at the futility of this daily routine, I sniggered, "Why didn't you have a Plan B when you were picking wives?" Deadpan, he replied, "What makes you think I didn't?"

I laughed, because frankly, I know I'm his Plan A. Hands down. But for a while there I started thinking about backup plans. There are probably some... few... many scenarios in life where we are somebody's Plan B:

A friend makes a movie plan but his sister backs out last minute - he calls you. 

A friend plans a road trip and her buddy got the flu - there you are again. 

An employer got rejected by their first choice - guess what, it's your lucky day!

A guy asks you out to dinner because the girl he fancies himself in love with is "washing her hair" (or whatever excuse hot girls use in the 21st century). 

The list is endless, it's just that we are not accustomed to thinking about ourselves as "good, but not good enough."

So if you ask me, the fun is in being the best goddamned Plan B in any of these aforementioned situations. Making all these people question their "first preference", their "opening batsman", their "You don't have Chocolate? I'll have Vanilla."

The point is, Vanilla is classy. Virat Kohli is sensational. 

And you are all of the above.  

a truth universally acknowledged

The mere touch of certain words can turn paper into parchment.
Words like vale, gallant, perchance.
"Perchance a gallant knight rode along the vale?"
I'm sure that is in some book some where. A parchmentback.

Some words can transport you to very specific times in your life - past or future.
Say bistro and I think of freshly brewed coffee at a cobblestone cafe.
Say white makhan and I think of hot paranthas, fresh out of the tandoor at my Nani's house.
Say cheese omelette and I think of the person who taught me to make it over ten years ago.

Some days - no matter what words you say - are just not your days.

But just for today, I am Elizabeth Bennett.
Turning paper to parchment.