She … ponders over the geometry of ‘Chapaatis’.

She ponders over the geometry of ‘chapaatis’ . The beloved flat bread of India , without which a north Indian meal is orphaned … actually incomplete. She wonders at how easily she strays from the the expected geometry of it. A decent (correction acceptable) ‘chapati’ has a radius and circumference of a perfect circle . It mystifies her how the perfect chapati transforms on the fire from a flat round to a sphere …. its as enlightening as the paradigm shift to the humankind when it was discovered that the earth is not a flat but a sphere!

But sigh the geometry of her ‘chapaatis’ is not the celestial shape of the earth but the measly maps of the landforms over this life giving planet . The frayed jagged corners . The differing thickness . The way every ‘Chapaati’ comes out unique . Some even puff up like little dis-shapen toys . Some rare ones are perfect rounds and turn spheres over the gas on fire . Those are thrilling moments .

Perhaps that’s why she has been working on chappatis more than anything else in the kitchen . Not for the perfection that the social code has defined for her … but for the enlightening variants she can come up with. The frustrating failed attempts of her initial trying at ‘something that has been perfected by many’… never succeeded in deterring her. She fondly rolls the dough over and delights in the imperfections of the geometry of her chapaatis … cos in the end it tastes alright .


She… Organizes her day.

She organizes her day in the hope of bringing back some control to chaos .She makes notes,lists and reminders.It helps her to some extent but little does she know that a day cannot be harnessed with a daily planner.It’s only the dawn and the dusk that can contain it. Rest of us can only hope to use moments to our best capacity but to control the movement of the day is no mortals calling.

Time flows in its own dear ways. She can either be in or out of tune with it.Lists are an illusion to pacify the realization of her otherwise insignificant existence in the cosmos and to keep her occupied from the larger queries of existence.The uncertainties are definitely mind boggling .

So she finds rescue in making to do lists and crossing them off. Just an illusion of control she knows …. but isn’t everything in life we do IS?

She … Point of singularity.

She was a dot growing at her own pace. Observing the world from a wholesome perspective and then he arrives.He is a disciplinarian who has lived his adventures and experienced his share of the world. She is hopeful of a beginning of togetherness. But he begins a discourse of his ‘straightness’. Of his clear goals of a healthy life .He views life telescopically.

He is linear she is all round . A line and a dot hoping for a future together. He wants her to stop being a ‘lazy’ spot. She knows she is growing and soon would be rolling away to great distances. He fails to hear what she has to say. He speaks the ‘truth’ and she is impressed by truth. He has a past and in his linearity he stays attached to it despite distancing from it. She asks of his past out of genuine curiosity. However by now he has become rigid and unrelenting. As the time passes she feels she is losing relevance as he is getting too engrossed in his regular monologues.

Now he wants her to be a line as well and not just a happy little artistically inclined dot. She is in a dilemma … she loves who she is.But with him she had begun to see a future.

However it’s not long before she realises ‘lazy’ dots don’t follow lines … they grow on their own ..alone…giving meaningful ends to long sentences.Period.