Foggy morning on Orcas Island

I found this on ( ) and it felt inspirational to me. It made me think of all the romantic cliche ideas of nature being the force that actually speaks to you. Plus, the brilliant photography captured the clash of manmade objects with the foggy nature in a way that just cannot be called a “clash” anymore.

Matt on Not-WordPress

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Model Crush: Analeigh Tipton

Placed third on Cycle 11 of America’s Next Top Model in 2008, Tipton has been playing both the modelling and acting fields.  Last night, I watched “Two Night Stand”, starring her and Miles Turner. She was always the essence of unique beauty, with her perfect eyebrows and adorable smile. But the movie made me look at her as the typical  “girl next door”.

Random photos of her portray the “runway ready” look at all times, combined with the factor of “adorableness”, of course. With long hazel brown hair and blue eyes, she posses an essential ability to morph into anything the client/movie demands of her. Her skin, hair and facial features allow her to have a varied inventory of looks to give more room for creativity for the client/movie.

Her unique look is very different from other typical models or the standard of beauty. She is beautiful in every way and I love every look of hers!


Other factors that I’ve taken in consideration that makes Analeigh captivating is the fact that she is not just a beauty. She supports a charity called Invisible Children (Read here about the conflict at Invisible Children: She was also an irresistible American figure skater, who, after retiring, continued to skate for charity ice shows for AIDS foundations.

Overall, I think she makes a perfectly reasonable model crush.

Visit: to see Analeigh’s Portfolio.

To Habit or Not to Habit?



According to Charles Duhigg, the author of “The Power of Habit”, people lose track of their lives because of the way the brain functions. All humans create habits that can be good for you (like eating salad for dinner) or bad (telling people you eat salad for dinner). But soon, the habits become a part of your being, and turn into a psychological pattern called “the habit loop”.

In a recent study in the European Journal of Social psychology, researchers have found out that you can change your life in 66 days! That is, if you have the control and the will power to not cry while doing so.

I started using this brilliant online app called, which uses the Seinfeld philosophy for breaking old habits and starting new ones. Jerry Seinfeld, a famous comedian, said that the key to success and productivity is to start a habit and to never “break the chain”. It doesn’t matter if you feel like doing it or how much of it you do- as long as you do it. Every day.

Screen Shot 2014-10-13 at 2.46.32 PM works on this concept and uses pretty graphics that create something beautiful each day you stick to your habit. A block of letters soon turn into a pile of books; a flower soon blooms into different kinds of flowers- as long as you don’t “break the chain”. I love this app, although I use it on and off, but it’s the only app that has ever kept me going.

Check it out: and change your life!

Mythology: Who would I want to be?


He ravished me. He couldn’t take his eyes off me and I knew there lay no other pleasure in the world, the knowledge that my beauty had unnerved the mighty God of the Seas. It could not matter we were in the sacred temple of Athena. The white marble had turned blue with age and rage. I scoffed at her warning eye. And closed my eyes.

I awoke, left alone at the temple. A trail of blood and hair at my side. My hair. I touched my head and felt a pool of snakes. I cried, red droplets hitting the floor. I looked up and men were frozen with my unforgiving appearance. Men who wanted me to live only to satisfy their own desires. Who felt I was a burden to the world and had nothing more to offer than a submissive sigh. Frozen.

A power in exchange for my vanity. To freeze. And to be eternally remembered. To realise there is a certain assurance in being able to unleash yourself on an unjust world. To be transformed from a “delicate maiden”, to be freed from the taunting stereotypes that men bring down upon us and to come out just as powerful and even more. I looked up at Athena and thanked her.

I am Medusa.

photo credit: <a href=””>Glenda Torrado</a> via <a href=””>photopin</a&gt; <a href=””>cc</a&gt;

A Personal Letter: The Epistolary form in “The Color Purple”


Unlike the omniscient narrators in most accounts of the racist 1930s America, Walker allows the reader to understand the inner psyche of the black woman. The protagonist, Celie, writes intimate letters to “God” about her life, depending on his audience to determine her own self worth. The entire novel is narrated with the epistolary technique. Although the omniscient perspective usually gives the reader the freedom to judge and understand the document, the epistolary technique explores the personal touch of the writer- giving it more credibility.

The epistolary technique also gave the readers of the late twentieth century, a sense of realism. After the ideal of fiction transformed from romance to realism, the epistolary form helped fill a psychological function which gave insight to the readers, about the authors. Although the epistolary form is defined as fiction narrated through documents, a diary entry would have significant differences from a letter. Walker combines both in her novel.

“The Color Purple” consists of letters written by Celie and Nettie, two sisters living in Georiga during the 1930s. However, the letters written are unconventional when compared to other epistolary novels such as “The White Tiger” or “Dracula”. Celia addresses her letters to God at first, recognising her voice and her ability to communicate through language. This could be described as a “diary” like entry, because of the fact that they are written without an expectation to be read or written back. It is only later that she reads the letters from Nettie. Celia and Nettie both, are able to draw energy and strength from writing and reading letters. It reflects the theme of communication, that Walker emphasises, for a change to be seen. The letters allow both of them to come into their own being and understand themselves clearly.

In contrast to epistolary novels written in that time, Celie is the antithesis of a usually brave, comfortable yet educated and strong protagonist. She is raped and abused by her father, forced into an unfulfilling marriage and is seen as weak and irresolute. However, the readers are able to develop with her and see her grow throughout the novel. It begins with her ceasing to talk and beginning to write, as she talks about her continued abuse from different men in her life. Her father, who rapes and abuses her is seen as a main patriarchal figure who is then replaced by her husband, Mr. ___. The letters take a very monotonous turn with the various stories of abuse.

The story only develops as Celie finds two women who defy her concept of womanhood. Sofia, a loud and outspoken woman inspires jealousy in Celie because of that very attitude. Shug Avery, is a burlesque dancer, and she does not care for what society thinks of her. With the unintentional guidance and support of these two women, Celie becomes strong enough to realise she is a woman of her own. The discovery of Nettie’s letters over the years bring about a change in her as well. She is now able to think clearly, free from all the men who judged her. She continues writing letters, to Nettie, and not to God. It shows the fact that Celie has found the will to find support and help for herself- rooted in relationships with women. The changing of the recipient of her letters and their relationship is a significant part of understanding the story.

While studying the epistolary techniques in “The Color Purple”, it is important to analyse the structure of the letters as well. There are 92 letters in the novel, and each serves as its own chapter. There are no dates mentioned at any point in the novel and the location is also generally unspecified, other than Nettie being in England or Celie writing from Memphis. There is also no narrator aiming to explain the collection of these letters. However, this brings the reader straight to the point- the fact that these letters were written; and not how they were obtained. The letters also seem to be tampered with in terms of the ordering etc. Nettie’s letters were introduced with notes that could be written by someone else, or could also be the spoken voice of Celie.

The novel, unlike other epistolary novels, does not work on the fundamental drive of a sender and a receiver. Most epistolary novels use letters as a means of communication. Nettie’s letters aren’t received by Celie for most of the book, and there are two writers and three addressees- which makes the exchanging of letters almost impossible. As a result, the reader only knows Celie’s side of the story.

Celie goes through many phases in her life which is also evident in her letter writing. In the beginning of the novel, she addresses God asking him what is happening to her. The second phase is marked by the receiving of Nettie’s letters, where many questions about her life have been answered- such as Alphonso not being her real father- and she begins writing to Nettie instead of God. The third phase is marked by the last letter, where she addresses God as “Everything”. Her perception and concept of God and life have changed and she is a changed woman.

Walker’s creation of a character that can only communicate in the dialect she understands, gives the reader a fresh perspective of the condition of a black woman. Her written word is merged with the way she speaks, which makes the novel more authentic. While her spoken word may not remain, her written words will remain forever, in the letters of “The Color Purple”. Finally, Walker has achieved what she had set out to do right in the beginning- to prove the permanence of communication.

(photo credit: <a href=””>Ennor</a&gt; via <a href=””>photopin</a&gt; <a href=””>cc</a&gt;)

Bangalore Fashion Week: The Event


Sponsored by Myntra at the glossy Sheraton hotel, the Bangalore Fashion week was an immense success. Designers from all over the town had made their presence felt, especially with amazing designs. I especially loved the designs by Dressberry by Myntra and Vrinda Ashwani, which featured a lot of mixed patterns and tribal black, respectively. There were definitely many trends to watch for as well!


This was the fun photo shoot Diti and I had in-between shows. We love to pose. I was wearing a black crop top from H&M with a high waist pencil skirt from Forever21. The skirt gave the flirty top a formal look, finished off by the nude peep toes from Next. The clutch was bought from Forever New.


This was the after-show dinner selfie. We had taken off our heels and ate at Kobe’s Sizzlers, Orion Mall. It was the perfect finish to a perfect night.

Imagine an Imagination: Short Story

Taken from Collective Evolution

The stage lights scorched me. My eyes made their way past the lights to find ignorant people clapping for me. A sense of power electrified my waist, running down my hips, my legs and my toes. It helped me move- I walked- slowly, towards the glittering trophy. Best author of the year, I was told. I took it graciously from the pompous man. He had red eyes and a taunting nose. I looked away and smiled at the unaccomplished crowd. They had irrelevant, unrecognisable faces and I didn’t care. I was preoccupied with more pertinent thoughts.

Schizophrenia. The doctor had diagnosed me with schizophrenia, earlier that evening. Mild, he told me. But what did the doctor know? He said my creativity was fuelled by my ability to see a non existent reality. But I had seen nothing unreal. My manuscripts were on the wall of my room, along with all the other novels I had published. My mother agreed.

With a self affirmed sense of conviction, I walked down the stairs, taking small, dignified steps. I was comforted by the loud cheers of the spectators and the evidence of my genius. I looked up to confirm this feeling.

I saw the people gradually evaporate. The air reeked of their mocking faces.They were turning into yellow dust and red vapour. They sneered at me as they disappeared into the pungent air. It clogged my soul. I couldn’t breathe. I fell to the floor, gasping.

I crawled away, into a darkened space. Crying and heaving, I saw the red eyes again, provocative and challenging. I held on tighter to my golden trophy, knowing I was the best they had seen, and then let my dignity vaporise with my skin.

I collapsed completely, as if I was one with the ground. I looked to my side, only to find my mothers red heels and a pile of unwritten manuscripts.

I closed my eyes.