Prose before hos

About 3-4 days ago, I started seeing "cake" references all over Twitter. 

I can't say it did anything other than serving a reminder, I had to order a cake for my grandfather's birthday. 

If you know me, you'd know, I'm a fucking deviant when it comes to cake and cake picking. I think, the anxiety for picking a cake and placing an order is far more than what it is when I go for a job interview or I don't know, minutes before you start kissing someone. It's fucking real, the palpitation and the pulse that races. 

Could this be recreated in buttercream? No wait, this colour won't work cause baker would use a golden board and that would be a disaster. 

Point being, I love cakes. I dig cakes. I am obsessed with the perfect cake. 

Perfect cake has components, if they come together like improvisation in jazz, it truly does make the world's difference. It is divine. If it doesn't, well, you're fucked. 

Thankfully, India has reached that point where bakers can make their cakes taste just as good as they can make it look. There's no shame in saying I've probably once had a cake abroad and despite all the fancy looks, it was quite mediocre. I will obviously withhold the fact that the cake was store-bought and purchased minutes before my birthday cause the guy who was baking the cake, fell ill and ate the whole cake by himself at home.

Then people ask about my trust issues. 

Imagine my surprise, when I started seeing "cake" tweets for days together. 

Did this happen when I was sedated for a day and a half in between on anti-histamines? No, can't be. I can't miss such a big reference that literally everyone's talking about it. My own friends, I saw memes, tweets.

What on earth is the cake reference? 

I think the anxiety peaked as I spent close to four hours yesterday looking up a cake for my grandfather's birthday. Just keywords of what I think he would like. Man's grown up without his parents and worked hard all his life. He deserves a ridiculously good looking cake to mark all his achievements. 

You see, the cake isn't just any dessert. 

The cake is a marker, of how far you've come and how much you've grown. It is symbolic of the person you are. If the cake is representative of the year you're going to have or the life you will lead, would you or would you not pay attention to it? 

That's the thing about birthdays. Why do we celebrate them? If it is to mark the years gone and celebrate the growth, then the cake has to be in tandem with the sentiment and if it is to mark some superstition of how the year ought to be, then it has to be even better, perhaps. 

I think my family or friends don't quite understand or know the extent of my cake mania. Perhaps, the only people who truly do are the fine folks at the bakery where I order my custom cakes from. I've had the pleasure to work in the organization where the baker's daughter was interning and that's how I learned about their venture. 

In the last one year and half a dozen cakes for family later, they know my mania in entirety. Any cake order will take close to a day cause that's how many times I'll go back and forth on details, image references, colours, frosting, shape, size, toppers, base details and flavour. 

You may think these are words but for me, these are all blocks in putting a combination so wonderful that it makes a cake come together. 

I used to take pride in recommending people food places. Now, my pride and my perfection is down to placing a cake order and believe me, the anxiety is real. 

Last month, for Exhibit B's birthday, it took over 10 days for the cake to be confirmed and then 3 days of complete anxiety and anti-histamines until the cake was picked and dropped by a third party vendor. 

This time, I waited until the last 4 days and did everything last minute to avoid my cake anxiety from peaking. 

If you were to text and ask what did I do today, I'd have to tell you that I spent all my time planning and placing the order for the cake. 

Anyway, while prepping my dinner today, I thought about the cake Twitter and how embarrassing would it be to ask someone. 

Everyone who ever said, "Ask and you shall receive" they clearly meant embarrassment by the gallon. 

I thought of who I could ask. 

May? No. She'd tell me but it possibly will lack details cause of her internet connection. 

T? Perhaps, he knows Twitter like I used to know things when I was young and he'd give me all the background info, but, he'd also judge me cause how do I not know anything. 

That's true, I've hit T up more than a few times on checking on trending topics cause I've been so out of it. He's been helpful but I don't want him to not have a crush on me and if I keep asking dumb questions, the crush can only last as much. 

Until ofcourse, I hit Twitter an hour ago and found a prominent writer/influencer ask "What's Cake Twitter". Lo, and behold. 

I think I wasted my wish on a cake. Could have asked for something else. 

(Reference of the day.)

I'm so excited that I've added an exclamation in the subject title.

No, not drunk. Stone cold sober, been since this Thursday.

To be honest, two drinks don't count. Especially if you intersperse them with the conversation of 3 years long employment and leaving that without a degree. Whoever said I'm a commitment-phobe has not met me in three years. (to all the Tinder boys I've stood up after the second date)

Okay fine, two years and a dissertation didn't give me a degree (yet) and I still did it. A job atleast pays.

No better day than today and no better time than now to compile this wishlist cause baby, I have a writing deadline. I should be planning a vacation, eating clean ("I will STOP all carbs the day my notice period ends" has become only, and only carbs).

I'll stop. Long story short, my last day at work is round the corner. I'm nervous, for good measure. I want to squeeze in a lazy beach vacation but somehow everyone around me has suddenly become oh so busy and I'll probably shoot myself in the head if I travel alone.
Okay fine, I won't. But I can't come back with 30 kilos baggage limit especially when a beach vacation has to have a complete wardrobe overhaul innit.



Here's a concise wishlist for my upcoming birthday, that I was dreading all year long, especially since the last one was ahem, so eventful.

1) Chocolate fucking cake. Chocolate fucking cake slice from Big Chill. The kind with buttercream icing and the one that's kept on the front fucking counter. I can't remember what it's called but it's right up front (along with another that looks deceptively similar). Ask the server and get the one with the B-U-T-T-E-R-C-R-E-A-M and buttercream alone. Not the ganache one. You'll have to go to the store at Khan Market, it's on rack starting 12 noon. You can call them up for details but they don't take advance orders. Yep, I researched ALL this for my own fucking birthday cake cause that's what people who like cake do.
Alternatively, if that's unavailable then the Red Velvet with Cream Cheese that I love. Contact my family for details.
If you can't get these two right then try Red Moon's Double Chocolate Cake. It's the laziest option from this entire list and I won't hate you completely. Please don't forget sparkler candles.

Don't @ me. It was a shit year for cake and I won't take a repeat of that. Not on my watch.

2) Water brush pen for watercolour since I'm not going to invest any more in my hobbies. Some paper to paint and general watercolour supplies would be good. Hit me up if you're taking this up. I'll share my list of what all I need. Bear in mind this is a fairly expensive endeavour, which is why I'm not particularly keen on buying this on my own. Expensive for art supplies, not like that 3.5k lipstick expensive. We're looking at the paper, glass paper mount (don't eye roll, please), maybe an easel, a beret, the works.

3) Birthday card. Each of you please send a personalized birthday card/postcard regardless of what you bring or not bring along with it. Handwritten, please. No e-card business. Post/courier preferably. Don't bring it with you.

4) Any 2000 piece and plus puzzle set. I think these are quite steep, please pool in with someone to get this. None of my gift-giving friends are earning in dollars yet.

5) Bookshelf for my room. Been asking for over a year. Either that or a sofa set. This is for those earning in dollars if you felt left out.

6) A pair of new fucking sneakers. I pitched in all my freelance money this Feb to buy a pair of Adidas Continentals only to find they're giant for me and ended up wearing them for two months. As a result, nobody's buying them off me and I don't want to spend more money on that. My shoe size is women's 6 (I think?) or men's 6 (are these different?). I bought a 7 and it was too big, which makes me wonder cause my 7-year-old sneakers from Adidas are size 7 and they fit well. Help. No, seriously. Urgently needed. Again, this shit is expensive. Maybe 5 people can pool in money together. Have you started Snobster's birthday crowdfunding project yet?

7) Doc Martens. No way in hell am I spending my money buying those but man, they look so fucking good.

8) Shasn. Mia K thinks it's a terrible idea to put money into something that I won't get before 2020 but then I put 2 years of my life into MPhil and got no degree so I'm that person just about any-fucking-way.

9) A new swimsuit. Ooh, this is interesting. I've image references for what I'd like (text me) and I can't seem to find a place to buy online. I'm thinking black, understated, sexy or fuschia fitted or gold with just a hint of sexy. This can't be mass-produced or bought from a crap e-commerce website that all of Delhi Metro women compartment buys from. Please spare me that stuff. Come empty-handed to wish me if that's your instinct to buy. This is more research-intensive than expensive.

10) Uber gift card? I don't know why are you reading this if you want to get this?

11) Crockery. I'm that person now, yeah. I could do with chic whiskey glasses (please, please text me for image reference) or giant wine glass set. Maybe even blue pottery plates and serving bowls.,

12) Single bed black cotton bed sheets. Double bed would do too. Remember cotton and black. Plain fucking black. No embroidery or design or texture or anything. Plain black.

13) Gel fucking eyeliner. Check if my sister has bought this. I don't have an eyeliner. Can you fucking believe how the mighty have fallen? I think Maybelline's is okay unless someone has a better recommendation. I was told Mac does it well but they test on animals and ever since I found out I make it a point to avoid any new Mac purchase.

14) Victoria's Secret Body Mist. If someone's coming down from the US, catch hold of them. These are the cheapest there. Don't bring me Bath and Body Works Body Mist or buy VS' from anywhere but the US. They all suck except the ones listed here.

15) This calendar.

16) A backpack that looks exactly like this or better still this. The brief really is a classic black backpack. Don't make me cringe with your choice.

17) Body shower gel from Marks and Spencer. International outlets have the best ones. Even handwash gels are great.

18) Clothes are a great idea but only if you'd like to take me shopping. Socks aren't a great idea, I've too many of them. We could go to my favourite boutique in Humayunpur and you could get me more clothes that I have no place to wear except dates which I've stopped going on completely. On a serious note, basic 3/4 sleeve t-shirts are a welcome idea but in person, please. I like to feel the material and know what I'm signing up for.

19) A Bobbi Brown Lipstick. Ask AJ the shade she has that I've been trying to steal from her. It's steep as fuck, please don't buy it yourself unless you earn in dollars and definitely don't buy a replacement from another brand. Unless it's Nars. Nars has really cool stuff. Actually, a nice milk chocolate matte would be good. Don't get Lakmé, please.

20) Bunny.  a kitten would be good.

Consolatory ideas: skipping rope, The Office (US) merchandise (no round neck t-shirts), a new cellphone, cinnamon toothpaste, a paid vacation to Sri Lanka, my friend Lucas Moraes from Brazil, film tickets coupon, a tall man to cuddle this Fall, fix my laptop, gym membership, yoga lessons, rainbow cream cheese cake from my erstwhile intern's mom's kitchen, bedside lamp (check image references with me). 

Snobster is twelve years old today.

There's a long history of the things I have done, celebrated, and learnt after failing. There's a lot of reflection and introspection to do, but not today. We've done that to death in the last two years. It's my fault largely, getting comfortable at a spot with an idea is never a good thing. Heck, even a post graduate degree gets over in two years.

In where I mark my personal growth, May usually amounts to a fresh start for me. Agreed, it has not been as bright as what things seemed twelve years ago but still, quite refreshing. I had goals- to get into a college of my choice, to get to a point in life where I wanted. I have crossed them all. I recall saying that out loud, "everything I ever wanted, material or not, I have it. What next?" Instead, I spent six months wondering, if what I wanted was really that easy and if I was unambitious.

I'm amazed to be one with my goals, insofar as putting things to my mind and achieving it. Ambitious or not, it is incredible to achieve all that you seek and put your heart into. However, the imposter syndrome is a bitch, whatever that is and and if it's real.

Just when I thought I had peaked, I learnt to appreciate what I had and all that I am yet to do. In the last one month, securing four letters of interest for a visiting Fellowship for my PhD is a testament to that. I did not imagine I would receive email(s) from the people who did, even the rejections. It's quite spectacular to live through that.

You should try it, just to know the high. It surpasses all joys of the world. Being validated and wanted is just as dangerous as a line of cocaine. There's a lot at stake and you're innit for the pleasure, the high.





Where do we go from here? 
There's so much to do and so much to look forward to. Things will not be comfortable or cushy, or even handed to me in a platter just the way it has been all this while but I won't let that kill me or stop me from setting goals. I am onto things which will shape the next three months of my life, which essentially means putting myself first and being relentlessly selfish. It's the need of the hour.

I spent three years paying my dues and despite what the universe might say and hold for me, I think we're done. We gotta call it quits. Gotta walk out of commitments that don't value me. This has been the outtake of the past year and I'm happy to say, it's reflecting across all the facets of my life. Or as much as I am trying for it to.

To revel in the present is to be stagnant, to say, this is it for me.

It isn't over until it actually is.

I may just be 12% done but I have the remaining 88% to look forward to - to be upset at the failures and to enjoy what is yet to come, despite all my grudges.

Here's to the last year of us being a baby. And to the last of me being cushy.

I can't wait to fuck things up, royally.