I try to tie my hair into the only bun I've ever mastered in all these years. My laptop is still taking it's time to open up, so I decide to get rid of all the Govinda noise in the living room by using my good-old headphones.

Weekends are all I get to write, and when the weekend strikes, there's no inspiration around. Why is it that the urge to write strikes us at the worst of times? Ideas strike me precisely while I'm in the shower, trying to get the shampoo off my eyes. While I'm on the train, immersed in a well-written episode of the newest series I'm following. And exactly at 3 a.m., when I wake up to have a glass of water. I have to be up at 6.30 and get ready for work, but no. When you have to write about a tree you saw in the morning, you just have to.

That's why it hurts when the writers today stick to the worst of clichés while explaining the most beautiful of emotions. If you're in love, it's all rosy, and about the mole they have on the right cheek, the curve of their back.

And this is still justified because the attraction to someone's imperfections makes for the most romantic of stuff but what is the deal with this favorite color crap? Here's a sentence I came across a few days ago:

"Isn't it ironic? How I'd give my life away for you and you don't even know my favorite color?"

Oh! Dear boy, the feels here. Tons of you must've been in tears by now, missing someone who you had a bad breakup with or well, possibly your crush who may or may not be a celebrity. I have a question, though, why?

Why are you obsessed with this favorite color or favorite food or favorite holiday spot thing? To be honest, I don't even know my mother's and she pretty much still loves me the same because I make the best Maggi in the world.

I mean I understand Bollywood taught you to stalk a girl when she said no and use shut down lifts as a place for molestation but even they don't use this argument anymore. If I asked you your favorite color and your reason for it right now, you'd be thinking a full 5 minutes before even answering.

"It's blue, okay!" "Why?" "Ummmmmmm. Because badal important hai?"

Wanna know the parameters of love? Their alcohol capacity, if they eat non-veg on Tuesdays or don't eat it at all, if they love dogs and hate kittens, or if they have too much black in their wardrobe. You never wanna wear black on their 'black day', do you? Right.

Now, I understand we love clichés because they're simple and set the kind of standards we'd like to imagine in our dreams. But, for God's sake, it's 2017 and even homosexuality is okay (I said it!); favorite color, and "did ya have your dinner shona", is not! It's just not.

So yes, I'd give away my life for you, you excuse of a human but if you can't tell me the number of blue jeans I own, I might have to rethink about our "relationship".

Also, if you're still involved in this kind of reading, you should really drop that bibliophile and sapiosexual from your Tinder bio.

PS: Deti hai to de varna kat le.