Sundays were never meant for tidying up cupboards, but when you really cant figure out anything in there, you've got to do the needful.

You decide to attack the drawers first. Out come all the knick-knacks you have been storing up for years, that horrendous bracelet which was "in" then, "out" now, but what goes "out" comes "in", so you keep it.

Next some college I-Cards. Well, you are not going to need them but you know, no harm in letting them be. To add to it, you have one of a friend too, who had given it to you for some reason, you forgot you had it and she thought she had lost it, so she applied for another one. After all that trouble you were not going to tell her you had it :)

Loads of birthday cards with all sorts of pretty things written about you. Ever wondered how people realise your goodness on your birthdays only ;) Anyway, better keep these cards as proof.

Snaps, lots n lots, memories frozen on paper. Your family, friends, places. Each photo has its own story.
Hostel life, birthday celebrations at 12 am, chatting away on anything ranging from politics, religion, marriage to ghost stories (best narrated at night) till the wee hours of the morning. Most of the girls in the snaps are married now, some engaged. Wonder if we will ever stand together like that again, probably not.

By the time you come to the last snap, you have done nothing to improve the state of affairs in the cupboard, and finally you shove everything back in, as is, maybe a bit more organised, but its going to take a lot more Sundays and a firm resolve not to gloss over the snaps, to say ok I am done with this thing they call a cupboard.

There are very few people with whom you can be yourself, never having to pretend, people you can fight with and know they will never be hurt, people who know you inside-out, people who know what songs you like, what books you read, people who read your blog faithfully everyday (dare you not ;))

Deepali , I am really proud to have a friend like you.

Enya has a voice that flows along with the music of her compositions, sort of blending with it, very atypical, timeless

There are some girls who are experts in all aspects of house-keeping, most importantly cooking.
Fine with me. To each his (or rather her) own.

Sometimes visitors in the above category come visiting. Fine with me.
The girl in question offers to replace my mom in the kitchen. Not fine with me. My mom is elated. She is not used to such generosity.

Dilemma for me. Should I hover about in the kitchen trying to appear useful or should I sit back and relax. But then, she is the guest, I am the hostess.

Maybe I can conjure up a headache. Maybe I can stick to the phone. Maybe I can develop a sudden interest in gardening.

The food is excellent. Maybe I should learn a thing or two from her.