A Letter To My Hungry Washing Machine.

Dear Mr. Spin,

Let me start off by thanking you for the wonderful job that you do. I know it isn’t easy. I certainly would not want to take on the job you excel at, because I would be terrible. (I also don’t want my arms to fall off, but that’s a different issue.)

I know that turning and spinning day after day gives you quite a big appetite. That’s why I spend such exorbitant amounts of money to feed you with electricity. So, why – why have you begun to eat my socks? 

My socks….ARE NOT FOOD!

My socks – my brightly coloured ones, my dark ones, my patterned ones, my plain ones – all of them are extremely close to my heart! So how could you begin to eat them? You of all (ahem) objects should know how I feel about my socks! Am I not giving you enough electricity? Am I not providing you with sufficient amounts of water that’s been treated with detergent? Am I not doing everything I possibly could to make you feel comfortable?

So why have you begun to eat my socks?

You never take anything else. Only my socks, my prized possessions! Scarves, shirts, skirts – you name it – but no. Only my socks.

Since when do you thrive on woven or felted fabric made from wool, cotton, or similar fibres? Since when do you charge for your services in socks? Since when do you start treating my socks as food when you already have enough to last you a lifetime? Are they really that delectable?

In fact, at the beginning I believed it was a feature of yours that I had missed when I decided to buy you. Then, when it reached the point of my having to wear mismatched socks one day, I pulled out your instruction manual. There it was – plain and clear – Runs only on electricity. Socks aren’t even a part of your diet!

Tell me where my socks are! I HATE YOU!

What do you do with my socks? Where do you hide them? Tell me, my good sir! I know that you know that I know that you have my amazing socks! Return them to me! You must! You are obligated to!

Besides, you know what really gets underneath my skin? You can’t even eat the same pair! I mean, what use is a patterned blue sock and a plain black sock to me? Apart from the fact that I’ll end up the laughing stock of town? Huh? Do you understand even the least bit of what I’m trying to say?

If you really must know, I have exactly seven white socks, nine blue ones, and several other odd numbers of patterned and plain. I do not plan on giving them to you, since all you do is eat them. All I ask is that you return my precious socks so I don’t have to go out looking like a lunatic who feels perfectly normal wearing a bright green polka dot sock on my left and a striped red and blue one on my right.

That’s all I have to say.

Stop eating my socks. They are not food.



Catch you later!

Niru ❤


Truffles = Decadence.

I have a confession to make.

It’s my kitchen…oh yeah. My kitchen!

I have returned to my messy ways. It has been too long since I’ve been at work in the kitchen. Too long since I’ve made the little room look like a tornado had hit it. Too long since I’ve procrastinated the chore of washing the dishes after looking at the messy pile of chocolate-y bowls, plates and utensils in the sink. There’s a certain pleasure in whipping up delights. There’s another type of pleasure in watching those close to you eat it and give you feedback. There are, according to me, two types of feedback:

  • What you made was truly delicious and so very decadent that they the look they had on their face as they savoured it was enough to tell you that they simply loved it, although this was often followed by countless compliments about your cooking or baking that made you feel awesome. (They made me feel like Super Baker! :D)
  • What you made was truly the opposite of delicious and the opposite of so very decadent that the look they forced on their face while supposedly ‘savouring’ it made you feel like bursting out into peals of laughter though you controlled yourself. What would make you laugh, was the looking at and listening to the fake smile and compliments that followed so that your feelings would be spared, though you know what they really feel like about your food. 😛

I’ve experienced both. I’m glad I did, because both offer a new joyous experience. Baking disasters have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. To recount my first disaster, head over to The Chocolate-y Wonderfulness Of Chocolate.

It was a tiring evening. I had a lot of work pending. I had hours on the computer to look forward to. There were several important things to look over. So, what do I do? I plunk down on the couch and say…

“I need chocolate.”

Where’s my chocolate?!

I needed chocolate badly. I’m what you might call a chocoholic. Whenever I’m angry, or I’m sad, or I’m hyperactive, chocolate calms me down like nothing else. Take note, future friends. It’ll help you when you discover my crazy side. 🙂

So I made my way to the room that is filled with the aromas of food. In my case, the amazing smell of chocolate. There was only one problem. I was too tired to bake a cake or brownies or cupcakes. I also didn’t want to eat just plain chocolate. I wracked my brains as to what to do. Then, it struck me….


Creamy, delightful, decadent, tempting dark chocolate truffles. You didn’t need to bake them. Yet they weren’t just plain chocolate. Perfect! Off I went on another one of my recipe hunts and I landed at Sailu’s Kitchen, which had my perfect recipe. These truffles are perfect for indulging in or as a gift. Made generally with two ingredients – chocolate and heavy cream – you can also flavour them in other ways. Here’s the recipe (I used dark chocolate :D) :


  • 200 ml/1 cup heavy cream
  • 1 tbsp butter
  • 225 grams finely chopped dark chocolate. (If you’re not a fan of dark chocolate, use 100 to 125 grams of milk chocolate and the remaining dark, depending on your taste.)
  • Cocoa powder or any other toppings you’d like.


  • Heat a pan and add butter and fresh cream. Turn off the heat after bringing it to a boil. (As bubbles appear along the edges.)
  • Roughly chop the chocolate and place it in a stainless steel bowl. Pour the cream mixture over the chocolate and wait for around 2 and a half to 3 minutes. Use a whisk to gently fold it in. Be careful to not beat it. Bring it to room temperature.
  • Cover the bowl with cling wrap and let it set in the refrigerator for around 4 hours or overnight till firm.
  • Remove the cling wrap and use a melon scoop or spoon to scoop out some chocolate and quickly roll it into small  balls. Remember to dust your hands with cocoa powder so the chocolate doesn’t stick!
  • Roll the truffles in the coating of your choice and place them in an airtight container in the refrigerator till the time of serving.
  • Serve at room temperature and let them melt in their mouths and melt their hearts!

I simply love truffles. They are the personification of decadence. Whether you’re a chocolate-lover like me or not, you have to try these. And perhaps let me know how they turned out in the comment section below! Ask about any doubts or give suggestions too! I’d love to hear back from you!

I leave you with this tempting GIF.


Catch you later!

Niru ❤

Being You. The You You Were Meant To Be.

I looked in the mirror this morning. I felt good looking at myself. I have never been one of those girls who keep checking themselves in every mirror they pass by. Those girls who have to have every strand of hair on their head in place. Those girls who place everything on appearance. I don’t do that. Yes, it’s important to look good. It’s important to look decent. It’s important to look presentable. But it’s not important to look perfect.

Sometimes it’s fun to let go and have fun. To be the ‘crazy in a good way’ person you were meant to be. Half the fun is going to be taken away if you keep making sure you look perfect all the way through.

Don’t judge a book by it’s cover.

Sadly, that’s what many in the world today do. They judge people on how they look. I try to judge people on how they feel. Something or the other about everyone is beautiful. You’ve just got to look for that particular quality. I’m not perfect in appearance, I know. (Slightly on the heavier side.) I don’t try to be. I have been losing weight recently, but I do it so I can feel good. Not because I want to be perfect. 

It’s not really the outside that matters when you consider the inside.

In light of recent events, I’ve learnt a lot of things. One of them is that you’ve got to be you no matter what others say about you. You can’t really please everyone in this world. But be the nice you. Not the mean one. Always remember, it’s the inside that counts. 

You can try to please everyone and feel horrible, or you can try to please one and feel the joy of their smile when you do.

I’ve been that girl who changes herself to fit in. I’ve been that girl who acted like someone else. I was messed up. Then I decided I wasn’t going to act anymore. I became me. The real me. The crazy me. (Come on, who isn’t crazy in their own way? Hmmm? :)) I found people who would accept me for being the me I was meant to be.

My point is, everyone’s great in their own way. That’s what’s so great about everyone.  They’re all beautiful in different ways. Everyone’s unique.

There are two types of people in this world. One is those who look in the mirror and feel awful because they ‘don’t look good.’ Two is those who look in the mirror and feel awful because they ‘don’t feel their personality is good.’ Try to be neither and create a third where people look in the mirror and feel happy for who they are. 

Inside every human is a bird waiting to fly. Open your cage and let it stretch its wings. You can only open your cage by accepting you for who you are. Don’t try to be someone else. Do not try to be perfect all the time. Be you – the you you were meant to be. Always.

When I look in the mirror, I see a dark-haired girl with a smile and a twinkle in her eye. I see a positive girl who is ready to take to the sky. I see a girl who experiences the best of emotions all the time. I do not see a girl who is slightly on the heavier side. I do not see a girl who has flaws in her appearance. I do not see a girl who is imperfect.

You do not have to be beautiful on the outside to be beautiful on the inside. But you have to be beautiful on the inside to be beautiful on the outside.

Catch you later!

Niru ❤