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Amsterdam Adventures: Magnet Fishing, Robo Bars, and a Dash of Desi Masala

  When Kiran and I decided to visit Amsterdam, I was excited for tulips, canals, and maybe a bit of Rembrandt. Little did I know I’d end up with more giggles than Gogh and more confusion than Van Gogh’s self-portraits! This bustling hub of history and modernity, commerce and creativity, had a few surprises up its canal-lined sleeves. We checked into this eco-friendly haven called the Conscious Hotel. Right from the funky, upcycled decor to the fact that even the room key felt like it had done a PhD in environmental science, everything screamed “save the planet.” Inspired and guilt-ridden for every plastic bottle I’ve ever used, we set off for a sunny stroll to Dam Square. Now, Dam Square is a people-watcher’s paradise. It was buzzing with both locals and tourists, everyone basking in the crisp autumn sun. As we strolled along the picturesque canals, I noticed an unusual number of folks peering intensely into the water, poles in hand. “Are they fishing for a particular type of fish?” I
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In the land of love handles

 In the land of love handles and muffin tops, Where spare tires and beer bellies never stop, Thunder thighs shake, making quite the scene, And double chins wobble, as if in a dream. Cankles merge calves and ankles in one, Bat wings flutter when raising a ton. Chunky cheeks blush with a rosy hue, As bingo wings flap, like they're in a zoo. The FUPA reigns supreme, a king in its court, While pooches and mommy pouches offer their support. Jelly rolls jiggle with every laugh and cheer, Creating a chorus that's music to the ear. So let's embrace each roll, each chin, each thigh, For in this quirky kingdom, our spirits fly high. In the realm of body slangs, we're perfectly free, To chuckle at our quirks and live joyously!

Balconies, Buses, and Missed Millions"

 "Balconies, Buses, and Missed Millions" I was at the hospital, carrying on as usual with my clinical work  when I saw this kid who came in for a hearing test. He wasn't wearing his school uniform like the other kids who come for their hospital appointments on a school day do .So, naturally, I got curious and asked, "Hey buddy, is today a day off for you? What’s your grand plan for the afternoon?" Without missing a beat, the kid shoots back, “I’m gonna play Minecraft on my PlayStation!” PlayStation, huh? Oh boy, did that send me down memory lane. You see, back in my day, if we had an unexpected day off from school, there was no PlayStation to save us. Nope. My 'play station' was my house gallery or balcony. The most action-packed part of my day would be counting the rare yellow cars that drove by. Seriously, they were like unicorns back then. Or I’d watch the queue of people waiting for the famous 257 bus. That bus wasn’t just a bus; to me it was a ship

Masters in Mayhem!!

 Alright, folks, gather 'round for the tale of the world's clumsiest human – yours truly! I swear, if there's a way to turn a normal situation into a comedy of errors, I'll find it. It's like I have a PhD in Disaster and a Master's in Mayhem. Picture this: There I was, at a fancy-shmancy restaurant, feeling all posh and sophisticated. I'd just demolished a fabulous biryani and was packing up the leftovers like a responsible adult. Little did I know, I was about to star in my own spicy drama. As I'm tying up the takeaway bag, BAM! Suddenly, my right eye is on fire! I'm standing there, frozen like a statue, wondering if I've been hit by some sort of curry-flavoured lightning. Turns out, I'd somehow managed to flick "mirch ka saalan/  मिर्च mirch का का सालन " right into my eyeball! Who does that? Me, apparently. After what felt like an eternity of eye-rinsing and squinting, I couldn't help but think, "If there's a blunder

Gym Daze!

  Oh, let me tell you, I’m in that fabulous phase of life where youthful enthusiasm has waved goodbye, and my body has embraced the art of shapelessness. More padding than a couch, I tell you! And it's not the kind of development you’d write home about. But then, I stumbled upon this term called sarcopenia. Apparently, muscle mass starts playing a disappearing act at the rate of 3-8% per decade after 30. Well, isn’t that just scary? So, I decided it was high time to take matters into my own hands and drag myself to the gym. Now, gymming has never been my forte. I mean, who enjoys doing repetitive exercises to songs that sound like alien languages, all while avoiding the glaring truth in those wall-to-wall mirrors? Disaster in the making, I say! But hey, why not make it fun? I started spinning stories about my fellow gym-goers. Not shaming, mind you, just naming! Take Betty, for example. This nimble, athletic girl would hop on a huge cube like it was her personal playground. Her una

There's nothing like bad weather..

 "Rain, Robins, and Relentless Cheer: I was sipping my coffee and watching the endless rain through my kitchen window. It had all gone dark and cold, with a drizzle adding to the misery. I felt like I was trapped in a scene from a particularly dreary British novel, where the only exciting thing to happen is when someone misplaces their umbrella. But then, something caught my eye—a fluffy robin hopping around in the garden. Despite the downpour and the November-like gloom ( in the middle of May), this chunky little bird was out there, pecking for worms and perching on my beautiful plants, which had somehow managed to burst into colourful blooms. I was amazed by its tenacity! Here I was, contemplating my life choices over a cup of coffee, and this robin was having the time of its life. Enter Kiran, our in-house Wikipedia, who decided to add his two cents to the mix. He said, "Did you know that in cold weather, birds can't grow a thick winter coat like many mammals do? Inste

Alone but not alone

  Loneliness and solitude: the twin siblings of alone time, like two flavours of an ice cream—one delightful, the other a bit sour. Living with them is like hosting a neverending sleepover with your weirdest relatives.  It all began when I decided to move to a different country. Boom, just like that, I found myself alone in a foreign apartment, surrounded by the kind of silence that could make a pin drop sound like a drum roll!. Pascal once said, “The eternal silence of these infinite spaces fills me with dread,” and buddy, he was definitely on to something. First to arrive at the pity party was Loneliness. Imagine this: me, sprawled on my couch like a deflated balloon, munching away those ready salted crisps, wondering why Netflix doesn’t have a “talk to me” feature. Loneliness is that awkward guest who overstays their welcome, whispering sweet nothings like, “No one loves you,” while you reread a “haha” text from your friend, trying to decode if they really laughed or just pitied you

My twilight zone ..

 Picture this: I'm in the middle of what feels like an episode of "The Twilight Zone" where promotions are as rare as unicorns, success seems to be on vacation in the Bahamas, and my bank account is giving me the silent treatment. Seriously, it's like my money has developed its own escape plan and ditched me for a better life. So here I am, feeling about as low as a limbo dancer's bar, scrolling through astrology and numerology websites like they're my last hope for a winning lottery ticket. Because, you know, maybe the alignment of the stars can finally explain why my life resembles a comedy of errors. I catch myself staring into the abyss of my closet, wondering if my clothes are secretly plotting a rebellion against me for neglecting them. Like, sorry, shirts, I promise I'll take you out for a spin once I've cracked the code to success and can afford to wear you to fancy parties instead of just Zoom meetings. And let's talk about my kids. I love

A day at the bookshop..

 A day at the bookshop!! As the sun danced in the sky, we went to one of the  biggest bookshops in Europe ,Waterstones , which is situated in the heart of London. With its five storeys of literary wonder, it was a sanctuary for bibliophiles, a place where one could discover knowledge the old-fashioned way! In an era before Wikipedia and Google ruled the roost, bookshops were the Mecca for seekers of guidance and advice. I settled into a cozy corner with a book about a couple's escapades on Venus, fleeing Earth's fiery chaos fueled by politics and materialism. Just as I delved into the narrative, a pint-sized explorer approached, clutching a tiny book about a lost dinosaur. Without hesitation, he regaled me with the tale, and soon we were embarking on a 3D puzzle adventure to reunite the lost dino with its home. Lost in the joy of shared storytelling, I momentarily forgot to inquire about his parents!!  But soon enough, his bustling mother appeared, clutching her brood with grea

Flambé fiasco

  So, I had this brilliant idea to bake a chocolate fire cake for my dear friend's birthday bash. Why? Well, simply because it's the latest craze! You know how it is these days, everything's about what's trending, right? So, when it was time to cut the cake, we poured rum on it and lit it up. But alas, no blue flame in sight! We tried everything, from lighting papers to pouring whiskey, but to no avail. It seemed the poor percentage of alcohol was to blame. Then someone suggested lighting camphor for a bigger, continuous flame. We ended up performing an impromptu arti ceremony, complete with holy mantras in the background. It was quite the spectacle, though not the one we anticipated! Fast forward to a week later.It was time to celebrate another friend 's birthday.I was determined to surprise my friend with a fiery cake. But since we were dining out at a restaurant, I decided to check with the manager first: "Hi there, we've booked a table for tomorrow