My addictions…

The Munchkin blog passed this on to me, and it came a while ago but since I was being to lazy about actually rolling up sleeves and getting down to work, didnt get down to doing anything about it. Plus, the fact that the tag asked me to list out five addictions. Only five. Thats like asking a food addict to survive on a plate of salad for an entire week. Which in turn meant I needed to do deep contemplative thinking. Which in turn meant I needed to stop drooling over fashion magazines and such like. And which meant…anyway…here’s my list.

My son’s smile: I need to see him laugh when he wakes up, I need to see his face crinkle up with joy when he sees me, I need to be the first face he sees when he opens his eyes. Yup, yup, call me obsessive. I can get myself into a funk on a day I think he hasnt laughed enough. It catches my breath, when his face lights up with joy and delight at random things, like pouring a sipper full of orange juice on my handknotted carpet and seeing me beat the world record for maximum number of footstomps in a minute.

My husband’s leg on mine when I sleep at night: If that weight isnt there I cant sleep. I cant fall asleep. I need that solidity, that reassurance of his presence around and the day he scoots off for a boys night out, I’m reduced to smarmy tricks like using weighted pillows on said leg. 

The sound of my mother’s voice on the phone: Calm, reassuring, loving unconditionally. If I dont speak to her at least twice in the day, I feel fidgety and unsettled, and keep knocking things over until I realise its not sugar overdose but mamma withdrawal symptoms.

My funny books: PG Wodehouse. Dave Barry. Bill Bryson. Jerome K Jerome. I can read them back to back. Over and over again. They soothe me. They keep me laughing and sane. And they help me realise that this coughing attack brought on by indiscriminate laughing too will pass. And A new attack will come in its place. One accompanied by the tears streaming down face, and getting into nasal ducts and emerging as inelegant snorts.

My Blackberry: I always say, in a fire, I would grab my husband, my son and my Blackberry. Underwear, jewellery and the house ownership papers can wait for a second dash through. Enough said.

Now for my lesser addictions

Shoes: Can any woman worth her insecurity ever resist a great pair of shoes. Post my last brutal and ruthless weeding out, I am now left with two drawer full of shoes, which are now just barely 30. I think. This is being saintly compared with the earlier head count that had shoes spilling out of every cupboard, loft, balcony, bed that was in the house. What are my shoes like? Gold, copper, silver and black strappy numbers for evening wear,  flats, ballys, Osho chappals for going down to the compound wear, stilettoes in tan, python, black peeptoes, gold peeptoes, a leopard skin wedgeheel that is current favourite and being worn on everything in most mismatched fashion, a pair of silver and wood wedgeheels which reminds me of being a Japanese platform heeled menace to the world, sequined copper slipons which have been worn once since purchase and a pair of furstrapped black and silver kitten heels that are delicate and sexy. And yes, a pair of white strappy low heels and a pair of (hold your breath) beige wedgeheels from Bata. Yup Bata. They actually have good comfortable and smart shoes that I endorse these days. Or perhaps. I am really become old. No steel spikes or six inchers for me anymore. Maximum four inches on a wedgeheel, or three on a stilletoe.  Maybe I should have a couple of them steel spikes. Weapon of protection at parties. Just stuck one into the jugular of the cretin boring you with tales of his latest project on microchip based plasmamorphic matter transmission into outer space.

Bags: Give me a good bag over diamonds anyday. What the heck, give me the diamonds too. Yup weeding has happened in this department too. Am left with huggggge leopard skin Esbeda tote which hold everything I possess and can, in a crunch, contain the child too. A Guess bling bling gold bag. A Guess python and canvas number. A Fendi fake. A Choo fake. A couple of random indeterminate brands and clutches. And some which are hibernating in the corner of the wardrobe for the winter.

Fashion magazines: At any given point in my car you will find the latest Vogue, L’Officiel, Grazia and Marie Claire. And I will pore over them page by page till I know the image on the reverse of each page by heart. And the car seat will be wet from drool caused by excess salivation induced by images of exquisite clothes and bags and shoes and accessories.

Food: Self evident. Will not elaborate. Lets just say, I really need detox for this one.

And now I pass this on to:


Mystic Margarita

Abha of Mamma Mia



Have fun girls.


About Kiran Manral

Kiran Manral published her first book, The Reluctant Detective in 2011. Since then, she has published eight books across genres till date. Her books include romance and chicklit with Once Upon A Crush (2014), All Aboard (2015), Saving Maya (2017); horror with The Face at the Window (2016) and nonfiction with Karmic Kids (2015), A Boy’s Guide to Growing Up (2016) and True Love Stories (2017). Her short stories have been published on Juggernaut, in magazines like Verve and Cosmopolitan, and have been part of anthologies like Chicken Soup for the Soul, Have a Safe Journey (2017) and Boo (2017). Her articles and columns have appeared in the Times of India, Tehelka, DNA, Yowoto, Shethepeople, New Woman, Femina, Verve, Elle, Cosmopolitan, Conde Nast Traveller, DB Post, The Telegraph, the Asian Age, iDiva, TheDailyO and more. She was shortlisted for the Femina Women Awards 2017 for Literary Contribution. She is a TEDx speaker and a mentor with Vital Voices Global Mentoring Walk 2017.
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8 Responses to My addictions…

  1. Abha says:

    wordpress hates me! 😦 i keep saying age old posts on everyones page! and then when i go into archives i get to see new posts lined up!

    had fun reading your addictions!! now let me think and think and do this tag! 😀



    ps: am a big bata fan! not ashamed of it anymore! frankly i cant wear heels at all. it kills my back totally! add to that i am already taller than M! and no decent shoe store makes nice flats without charging me a bomb for it! so Bata it is! 🙂


  2. Anamika says:

    Thats it. I know u dont know me at all and I may turn out to a manic socio path but please please trust me, bring bodyguards if needed but agree to meet me when I visit Mumbai next and come shopping with me. Shoes mean heels or flats in my fashion challenged vocab. A bag is just a bag…albeit I now know what a tote is because I think I have one…’I think’ 😐
    Your husbands leg on yours part was amusing. I do obssesive pretty regularly myself so can relate.


  3. Suki says:

    Did you have to remind me of addiction #2?
    I think I’m doomed to ten more years of being a pillow-hugger. Dammit.


  4. Will do soon, Lady K. 🙂


  5. Munchkin's Mom says:

    OMG! This is uncanny..I share your last five addictions as passionately…yay! there is someone who shares my interests/borderline obsession in these!


  6. Munchkin's Mom says:

    Oops, the blackberry here has to be replaced with the iPhone in my case…it has all my baby’s cute pics…


  7. Gigi says:

    My big obsession/addiction – collecting shampoos and conditioners of various brands! (I know, so lame!!)


  8. goofy mumma says:

    Nice one, love the ones about your son’s smile and the weight of the husband’s leg on you at night, small little things which we don’t even realise!! Even I had tagged you on this one.


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