I bleet.

I bleet. I don't blog, I don't tweet, I bleet. (Bleet is copyrighted by a friend who will let you use it for a good rack of lamb).

I have a list of self imposed rules that I am going to follow while bleeting:  I refuse to write about my children since they are just as precious and precocious as every other child I know. I will not write about how being a mother leads you to sainthood since not being a mother might also lead you down that path. I refuse to write about the trials and wonder of being a woman since being a man or child is probably just as hard or easy and wondrous. I do not believe that my experiences are any more earth shattering and enlightening than any one else's. And I refuse to come up with any profound conclusion since it might change anytime with more information being available every minute.

So, now that I have dug a deep dark hole from which I will be writing in, I can say that I will probably be writing about trees, bees and everything nice. The clouds, the pillows, and some kinds of spice (the general ones, not just the ones in my kitchen). There will be some kinds of observations (maybe) and all kinds of non-opinions (for sure).

* I thank my friends for their inspiration and contributions. I would not like to be accused of plagiarism already. I thank Sarva and Charu especially. Thanks guys.