get me a snowflake

Christmas time is a strange week. It makes you happy and want to whoop with joy, want to throw the hat in the air, have red cheeks get a glass of wine and sit on the oversized arm chair near a fire place with the cat on your lap as the fire crackles and there is inconsequential conversation floating around.

Clearly,  given that I am posting this sitting in Bangalore there is no hat on my head, no fire, wine or even a cat. Seems like I overdozed on the Hollywood ‘happy Christmas’ movies or maybe just maybe the infection is way deeper and can be traced back to the teenage years …… spent in a holier than thou convent school where one would stand in the cold quadrangale, shivering and mouthing the lyrics of Silent Night..

For reasons unknown I have always been exceptionally fond of Christmas and everything that went with it.. From the carols, and the midnight mass, the big meals and the expanded feeling of joy that seems to burst through. 

Remember this one foggy Christmas eve, I gathered some of the pocket money trooped to the local market and got tiny things for each of the family members. There were no stockings, so non imaginatively I placed them on the dining table, with little chits for each of them.

The gifts were horrible.. think I got my brother a pack of fluorescent erasers or some such nonsense. Years have flown by and I still want that one snowy Christmas, with a muffler tight around my neck, a duffel cap wrapped around me and rosy cheeks…. Wanna attend the midnight mass, only to be able to kick snow off the pavement on the way back home and open my eyes in wonderment at the lit christmas tree

Want red stockings, and elf caps.. want the gifts below the tree… and sit in the pajamas with hot mugs of cocoa and coffee.. get the floor to be a war zone between ribbons and wrapping paper with everyone amazed at the incredulous snow that’s falling on the ground outside.

One day I shall stand in my Victorian century church, understanding nothing, giggling at the solemn face of the pope and maybe sipping from the hip flask.. blashemphy.. but warm at getting my white very movie christmas

just like that

I have a good tingling feeling that is creeping up.  Its mellow, slips away unless I pay attention to it, it’s a strange kind of content anticipation that is looming in.

Yesterday evening, Sadhguru gave spoke from his heart once more.  I shivered and snuggled into my chair cold to the bone listening to that what he had to say.  He makes so much sense and a small meditation with him was enough to make me remember the tiny spark of divinity that there was sitting in me

There was a sense of expansion that got created a smile that sprung up and even though, I skipped the morning meditation session today, I was skipping as I walked the dog filled with new plans and schemes. The Big things of life seemed to be taken care of, there was love and laughter both at work and otherwise, there was learning and there was movement.

Lazy me needed to move, and the time had come to get the focus back to getting the simple me back and be a little more active. The year looked good. The universe was happy, and as I drove the monster car with the little furry ball whimpering for fun in the back seat I smiled in glee.  Pumped the volume  up for the music and laughed the nonsensical laugh at me, at life and at the moment. It was all the way it was meant to be, the bliss was settling in … slowly but surely the good times were here. 

What the Modern Woman Wants

By Amanda Chong Wei-Zhen


The old woman sat in the backseat of the magenta convertible as it careened down the highway, clutching tightly to the plastic bag on her lap, afraid it may be kidnapped by the wind. She was not used to such speed, with trembling hands she pulled the seat belt tighter but was careful not to touch the patent leather seats with her callused fingers, her daughter had warned her not to dirty it, 'Fingerprints show very clearly on white, Ma.'

Her daughter, Bee Choo, was driving and talking on her sleek silver mobile phone using big words the old woman could barely understand. 'Finance', 'Liquidation', 'Assets', 'Investments'... Her voice was crisp and important and had an unfamiliar lilt to it.

Her Bee Choo sounded like one of those foreign girls on television. She was speaking in an American accent. The old lady clucked her tongue in disapproval...... 'I absolutely cannot have this. We have to sell!' Her daughter exclaimed agitatedly as
she stepped on the accelerator; her perfectly manicured fingernails gripping onto the steering wheel in irritation.

'I can't DEAL with this anymore!' she yelled as she clicked the phone shut and hurled it angrily toward the backseat.. The mobile phone hit the old woman on the forehead and nestled soundlessly into her lap. She calmly picked it up and handed it to her daughter..

'Sorry, Ma,' she said, losing the American pretence and switching to Mandarin. 'I have a big client in America . There have been a lot of problems.'

The old lady nodded knowingly. Her daughter was big and important.

Bee Choo stared at her mother from the rear view window, wondering what she was thinking. Her mother's wrinkled countenance always carried the
same cryptic look. The phone began to ring again, an artificially cheerful digital tune, which broke the awkward silence.

'Hello, Beatrice! Yes, this is Elaine.' Elaine. The old woman cringed. I didn't name her Elaine. She remembered her daughter telling her, how an English name was very important for 'networking', Chinese ones being easily forgotten.

'Oh no, I can't see you for lunch today. I have to take the ancient relic to the temple for her weird daily prayer ritual.' Ancient Relic. The old woman understood perfectly it was referring to her. Her daughter always assumed that her mother's silence
meant she did not comprehend.

'Yes, I know! My car seats will be reeking of joss sticks!' The old woman pursed her lips tightly, her hands gripping her plastic bag in defence.
The car curved smoothly into the temple courtyard. It looked almost garish next to the dull sheen of the ageing temple's roof. The old woman got out of the back seat, and made her unhurried way to the main hall. Her daughter stepped out of the car in her business suit and stilettos and reapplied her lipstick as she made her brisk way to her mother's side.
'Ma, I'll wait outside.. I have an important phone call to make,' she said, not bothering to hide her disgust at the pungent fumes of incense. The old lady hobbled into the temple hall and lit a joss stick, she knelt down solemnly and whispered her now familiar daily prayer to the Gods. Thank you God of the Sky, you have given my daughter luck all  these years. Everything I prayed for, you have given her. She has everything a
young woman in this world could possibly want. She has a big house with a swimming pool, a maid to help her, as she is too clumsy to sew or cook. Her love life has been blessed; she is engaged to a rich and handsome angmoh man.
Her company is now the top financial firm and even men listen to what she says... She lives the perfect life. You have given her everything except happiness. I ask that the gods be merciful to her even if she has lost her roots while reaping the harvest of success.

What you see is not true, she is a filial daughter to me. She gives me a room in her big house and provides well for me. She is rude to me only because I affect her happiness.. A young woman does not want to be hindered by her old mother. It is my fault.
The old lady prayed so hard that tears welled up in her eyes. Finally, with her head bowed in reverence she planted the half-burnt joss stick into an urn of smoldering ashes.

She bowed once more. The old woman had been praying for her daughter for thirty-two years. When her stomach was round like a melon, she came to the temple and prayed that it was a son. Then the time was ripe and the baby slipped out of her womb,
bawling and adorable with fat thighs and pink cheeks, but unmistakably, a girl. Her husband had ticked and punched her for producing a useless baby who could not work or carry the family name.
Still, the woman returned to the temple with her new-born girl tied to her waist in a sarong and prayed that her daughter would grow up and have everything she ever wanted.
Her husband left her and she prayed that her daughter would never have to depend on a man. She prayed every day that her daughter would be a great woman, the woman that she, meek and uneducated, could never become. A woman with nengkan; the ability to do anything she set her mind to. A woman
who commanded respect in the hearts of men. When she opened her mouth to speak, precious pearls would fall out and men would listen. She will not be
like me, the woman prayed as she watched her daughter grow up and drift away from her, speaking a language she scarcely understood..
She watched her daughter transform from a quiet girl to one who openly defied her, calling her laotu, old fashioned.... She wanted her mother to be 'modern', a word so new there was no Chinese word for it. Now her daughter was too clever for her and the old woman wondered why she had prayed like that. The Gods had been faithful to her persistent prayer, but the wealth and success that poured forth so richly had buried the girl's roots and now she stood faceless with no identity, bound to the soil of her ancestors by only a string of origami banknotes.
Her daughter had forgotten her mother's value. Her wants were so ephemeral, that of a modern woman. Power, wealth, access to the best fashion boutiques and yet her daughter had not found true happiness.
The old woman knew that you could find happiness with much less. When her daughter left the earth, everything she had would count for nothing. People would look to her legacy and say that she was a great woman but she would be forgotten once the wind blows over, like the ashes of burnt paper convertibles and mansions.
The old woman wished she could go back and erase all her big hopes and prayers for her daughter now that she had looked out of the temple gates. She saw her daughter speaking on the phone, her brow furrowed with anger and worry. Being at the top is not good, the woman thought, there is only one way to go from there – down.

The old woman carefully unfolded the plastic bag and spread out a packet of beehoon in front of the altar. Her daughter often mocked her for worshipping porcelain Gods. How could she pray to them so faithfully and expect pieces of ceramic to fly to her aid? But her daughter had her own gods too, idols of wealth, success and power that she enslaved to and
worshipped every day of her life.

Every day was a quest for the idols, and the idols she worshipped counted for nothing in eternity. All the wants her daughter had would slowly suck the life out of her and leave her, an empty souless shell at the altar. The old woman watched the joss stick. The dull heat had left a teetering grey stem that was on the danger of collapsing.

Modern woman nowadays, the old lady signed in resignation, as she bowed to the east bone final time to end her ritual. Modern woman nowadays want so much that they lose their souls and wonder whey they cannot find it. Her joss stick disintegrated into a soft grey powder. She met her daughter outside the temple, the same look of worry and frustration was etched on her daughter's face.

An empty expression, as if she was ploughing through the soil of her wants looking for the one thing that would sown the seeds of happiness. They climbed into the convertible in silence and her daughter drove along the highway, this time not to fast as she had done before.
‘Ma,’ Bee Choo finally said. "I don't know how to put this. Mark and I have been talking about it and we plan to move out of the big house. The property market is good now, and we managed to get a buyer willing to pay us seven million for it. We decided we'd prefer a cosier penthouse apartment instead. We found a perfect one in Orchard Road .. Once we move into our apartment, we plan to get rid of the maid, so we can have more space to ourselves....."

The old woman nodded knowingly. Bee Choo swallowed hard. "We'd get someone to come in to do the housework and we can eat out – but once the
maid is gone, there won't be anyone to look after you. You will be awfully lonely at home and, besides that the apartment is rather small. There won't be space. We thought about it for a long time, and we decided the best thing for you is if you moved to a Home. There's one near Hougang – it's a Christian home and a very nice one."

The old woman did not raise an eyebrow. I"ve been there, the matron is willing to take you in. It's beautiful with gardens and lots of old people to keep you company! Hardly have time for you, you'd be happier
there." "You'd be happier there, really." her daughter repeated as if to affirm herself.

This time the old woman had no plastic bag of food offering to cling tightly to, she bit her lip and fastened her seat belt, as if it would protect her from a daughter who did not want her anymore. She sunk deep into the leather seat, letting her shoulders sag and her fingers trace the white seat.

Ma, her daughter asked, searching the rear view window for her mother. "Is everything okay?

What had to be done, had to be done. "Yes" she said firmly, louder than she intended, 'if it will make you happy,' she added more quietly..

‘It's for you, Ma! You will be happier there. You can move there tomorrow, I already got the maid to pack your things.' Elaine said triumphantly, mentally ticking yet another item off her agenda. 'I knew everything would be fine.' Elaine smiled widely; she felt liberated. Perhaps getting rid of her mother would make her happier... She had thought about it. It seemed the only hindrance in her pursuit of
happiness. She was happy now. She had everything a modern woman ever wanted; money, status, career, love, power and now freedom without her mother
and her old-fashioned ways to weigh her down......

Yes she was free. Her phone butted urgently, she picked it up and read the message, still beaming from ear to ear. "Stock 10% increase." Yes, things were definitely beginning to look up for her and while
searching for the meaning of life in the luminance of her hand phone screen, the old woman in the backseat became invisible and she did not see her in
tears.

u r ?

Journeys inside and out

The world of couch surfing came a little closer to me this year, with a host of different couchers that came and walked through the door, interacted with us and left.  As I watched them in and out, there was a mix of emotions that surged – emotions of jealously for the travel or surprisingly fatigue, exhaustion or a sense even of protection.

Each personality evoked and pulled a different chord; depending largely on who they were and how they were approaching the entire episode of travel itself.  If pressed I would maybe bucket them into a few large pools.

The harried traveler

It is the energy about them that gives them away, they have a map and an agenda, they come into the room and want to know once the niceties have been taken care off, about the places to see, how to go what to do and then get down to the practicalities of the journey.

They usually are very well packed, gadgets just the right ones, have an exact idea about how much is a fair price for things and move from one place to the other – remaining somehow aloof, a hovering person above the scene.

Conversations and exchanges with others, is done but with a sense of detachment.. the entire pace is to see, view, take in, and get back to life that has been suspended. It is a holiday. Not traveling…. It is about getting the energy to get back to life that they have left behind…….

The seasoned traveler

The line here is a little tough to draw,  but these are the people who have a slightly more relaxed pace of life… they are still here to experience but there is no haste there is nothing great that they must return to, no sense of agitated panic at now being able to experience the whole nation in a go.,.. a more relaxed joiedevore stems through them ….. but the one thing that this Travel- not a holiday is for them is still an experience. It shall get them somewhere, maybe shall be converted into some cause, they shall write about  it… or maybe it shall become a world tour cause for aids or child rights…. But there is a sense of storing the stories and then one day when the time is right this shall come to use

Then there is the travelers who you see only once in a while.  Travellers they are, but not the ones who are travelling externally.

These are for me the Internal Travelers……… in the course of the year I came across two… On the surface they seem to be the seasoned travelers, having been to a lot of places and seen a lot of things but there is a deep sense of difference. They seem to be travelling inside.

A sense of silence or peace surrounds them, time is not heavy but to be spent with a cup of tea actually engaging with the other person. A lot of their travel is about how they have changed with the passage of the days. They move- from one city to the other, and with each movement there is a stillness that comes.

Temples, museums, mountains , relics cast off their allure.

People, relationships, experiencing interactions cling on with more meaning

They seek themselves, and trot around the world to get there.

but for them this is not a travel or a holiday

somehow somewhere without them knowing it..

it’s a pilgrimage from home to themselves.

To my pilgrimage. On a yoga mat or through 100 flights taken through the world?

aliveness

Its been a  busy morning already at 8.45 am.

Woke up at 6 something, shook awake the dog who promptly began the diligently licking himself, his legs and his dick all over, and then proceeded for a shower, a walk, the paper, the morning coffee, and now emailed done its time to commence working. Have not felt this enthused in the entire week, so it must be a good thing.

Saw three crappy movies yesterday. Yup was bumming the fever off.

Due Date
From the maker of hangover, the movie that had one in splits came as a huge disappointment, the jokes were insipid, the situations far fetched and overall the movie was a bit of a let down.One where you wanted the movie to be over more than anything else.

Leap Year
One of those,"you really want me to believe that" kind of movies where the cliched i have it all under my control american lady is suddenly taken by surprise at the charm of a certain irish man, the nature with its timely showers and hail storms does its thing and before you know it , she finds that she needs to give up her perfect new york life to come and serve dishes with him at the irish bar............COOOOOOOOOOOME ON!!!! Like do you even know one real story like that????

Going the Distance

A movie with the very real and believable Drew Barrymore. something about her non nonsense very grounded attitude makes a movie far more easy to relate to. A 31 year old she is running behind her so called timeline- of getting kids, finishing school, becoming a reporter etc etc.. who falls in love with this guy in New york and then the drama of a long term relationship commences.... etc etc... Was more believable and the least painful amongst the entire lot of movies.

As I couch potatoed through the day, I thought of only how visiting America seemed to the lowest on my horizon for a long long time, there were so many more nicer places to head to that the world seemed waiting and willing. So as of today am making a new aspiration for myself .. cant reveal it because then it doesnt come true. so they say ;-)

sick musings

ha! now i know what made me dress like an Eskimo in Bangalore... was sick just never realised it till the silly temperature was bubbling like fresh soup. hmm, hence have been spending an inordinate amount of time in bed, reading - a lovely book called the tao of pooh and the te of piglet, 5 episodes of How i met ur mother followed by a disasterous attempt to see Taxi Driver and an exceedingly long amount of time staring at the ceiling waiting for it to move.

Well it didn't and I did.

So the dramatic weekend, gave way to a rather pale Monday. Spent Tuesday shivering on the office couch, and Wednesday on bed. Respite on a Thursday, think a fresh glass of orange juice had something to do with it, made me get up, rub my eyes and see the world again.

Jack Johnson and a cuddle dog- who i am convinced is petrified of his dog trainer are keeping me company along with a rather astounding plan.

I am not liking this whole becoming an adult business. There is looming idea that if one has to do the travel thing then you have to bite the bullet, n make a few tough choices. Choose to trust ur future earning power, the fact that things shall work out in the long run and make a dash for it. Just up and go, get some cushion money and enjoy the travel for the period it is

make it happen... thats the plan. yup its short term but hey long term deals were never my thing

Career changers

As I sat in front of the computer yesterday, the coldness was making me freeze. Was dressed like an Eskimo in the city of Bangalore with 4 layers of clothes protecting me from the cold that insisted on sweeping into the house. 

P called them all excited about how he had gotten a chance to meet MS a venerated photographer in Bangalore, who does wedding photography and made a career change for himself at the age of 28 when he decided to move away from the structured calling of a corporate life. 

As we drove in to the house, there was the cutest thing from Japan who was there as well - like the energy they have in general. But I digress, the point of the matter was P was keen to create a long term plan to throw away his career as a commodity trader and study to become a photo journalist and choose to make a whole new life that enabled him to study -then combine travel and image taking with making money. 

The conversation moved from photographers, to taking the leap of faith, to knowing that it took time and the life that came as a result of it. I sat there, knowing the direction of the tales that would come, from immesne frustration to using savings to make the leap, the struggle and the eventual payoff. Seems I can create a whole repository of such people and such stories

I wondered to me, is that what i want to do? become a photo journalist. nopes.... left the question hanging and then asked them if how many outstanding female photographers with familes were they aware of? the answer was none, or well the ones that were successful were the ones that had chosen to trample off the natural instinct of children etc and then pursue a profession. 

It seemed like one more mans world, with a few additions here n there of female presences. This created an interesting situation, did then having an interesting freelancing passion driven career mean a death to family ? was it an either or? was an this "and" that possible?

Dont have the answers but know that if you have the desire then anything at all can happen. Anything - what then is the desire is to be found out ! 

relaxing into life

Introducing Puppy Singh. - A post from the eyes of my four legged love with the namaste ears. 

the world from his eyes

mmmmmmhhhmmmm, hmmmmhhhmmm.. I opened my mouth letting out a satisfying yawn, cocked open and eye and sighed with contentment, for once that evil huge fellow wasnot there, which meant that today was a special day. I could sleep without being unceremoniously kicked out of bed in the middle of my dreams just because he felt like it... I swear that guy has the worst timing ever. Just yesterday, I had a dream that my round bed was floating in the sky, the clouds were juicy pieces of chicken with ham stars and I was standing on the bed, my mouth wide open, a fluffy cloud was centimeters away from my teeth when.............. WHOOOM... I landed with a thud on my back, kicked out of bed, sleep, dreams and heaven!


Bugger him..


but today was easy.  only that weak women was there, she somehow has this cuddle thing going, making it super simple to be on the bed all the time .. and man its cold here ... need to pee, need to eat.mmmmm eat.. chicken. that was dinner yesterday, if I am smart may get it for breakfast, Time to wake fatso up!


Puppy Singh, proceeds to claw and scar face of the so called weak women. She kicks him off the bed a trick she has learnt works, he is faster, jumps right back, claws with frenzy until she is up, awake, kisses him and lets him off to the promised heaven of food.

Yummy, they really should not eat all the chicken themselves, now to get the other one to walk me and life seems to be shaping well. AAAAAHH what weather, makes me come up with novel ideas.... plan hatched and ideas cracked I ran towards the big german shepard gleefully daring him to do the same at his place, the first dog to succeed would win the bet tomorrow.


Deal, high fived on the road and virtually ran home. Uff these women walk so slowly.. annoying. 


I slid into the room, pretended to be zonked post the morning excitement and slid below the table. Watched lady 2 leave the house, shutting the door. The weakest 2 women remained and one strange man, he was a wuz -ignore!.  


Timing ... it was all in the timing.  


She seemed to be getting up; she did. 
This was it my only chance. I leapt from my pretend slumber- stretched to the table, clasped the cigerettes in my mouth, dashed to the sofa, ripped the filters 
and created the most FABULOUS TOBACCO RAIN EVER!!!!!!


The flakes leapt in the air... they came down slowly
spiraling in strange patterns
no 2 patterns the same
I sat there, mesmerized by my own genius.... 
savoring the moment


PUPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPY SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNGHHHHHHH


Oooh ooo... she was back
hmm. Thwak thwak, she slapped me a bit
threw me in the veranda
I knew the drill- 10 min and this would be over
small price to pay for the rain that was ;-) ;-)


Sigh.. lets get on with it. plan 2 was still waiting. So I made myself cozy on the news papers there, and began the whinny yelping puppy noises that made all humans skin crawl. 3 whines per 10 seconds and a looooooooong yowl to complete it.


The rhythm was set. 
she must be really mad, normally this should be over by now. 
Yoooooooooooooooowwwlll!!!.. hmmmmm, mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm


she is coming, the door is opening. I give her my sheepish sorry look, slink out, hide below the table, surverying the room from the corner of my eye.
her phone rings, 
I lunge for the ciggies on the table, and chew the rest below


HAAHAHAAA, HEHEHEE! 
I win i win.. double dare ;0 won. So going to be the champ on the road tomorrow. 


Since I was on a roll I decided to make the best of it. 12 waking hours - destroyed 

• 2 packs of ciggies
• 1 imported high value ear phones
• 1 car tyre  from my toy car
• set of tissues
• the daily paper
• toothpicks 
• squeezed out an extra walk; and
• even managed to coax a chicken meal

A day well spent. sweet dreams world

I am ready to return to dream land... the warm bed, the quilt, lights off, chicken clouds here i come..

thump.......

HUH?? 

oooooooooohhh nooooooo

the big mean bully was back..... darn

December

Its the 1st of December, a favorite month in the Calender. DEC- a  month that since childhood stood for holidays and christmas, mornings where the cold fog would envelope your bed and as you opened your eyes snuggling into the quilt was pleasurable. 

a month of endings and fresh starts. When you looked forward to christmas - which as an Indian living in Delhi really did not mean much, but as a girl marooned in a convent meant mystery and fantasies. One would gaze hungrily at the winter shop displays and the massive christmas trees that sprung overnight, the little cherry leaves and carols. 

December was more than xmas and Rudolf the red nosed reindeer. Going to school meant shivering on the bus stop, with the cold making the knees freeze. The bus everyone sat huddled into their seats and mufflers, breathing warm air to keep the hands warm.  the afternoon sun was welcome, making for a warm spot to sit and read the paper in, with fresh carrots keeping you company

the wardrobe changed, the food was allowed to become hotter and less spicy

tempers became less frizzy, people smiled a lot more and nodded their heads

the pigeons puffed themselves up as their cooed themselves to sleep

the last week meant celebrations, dinners and the ability to wear scarfs and coats

hot baths and lingering mousterising sessions 

and lip balms became best friends

winter had come and life was happy again

now i am in blore, content with a sweat shirt as a sum of all my layers

my breath does not come in wispy layers, 

but the cool breeze has a sense of winter

and for the now that is enough

Reunions

Reunions are such strange moments of life.

You meet someone who knows you better than you know yourself,

right before the meeting there are a few butterflies, would we have changed? are things the same?

there is trepidation and excitement

and when you meet, all this melts

the first statements are silly things, sheer nonsense. 

there seems to be so much and nothing to say at the same time

and so like mature adults, you make jibes at each other

God! you still wear that silly cap

what happened to your belly and 

such utter crap

it takes a while to move from news to views

report cards of time spent apart are shared, 

in one moment it feels like- time stood still and in the other

that so much has happened.

as we sat in some park bench, we simply smiled

nothing had changed

everything was different

but nothing had changed ;-)

meeting napo

Yesterday, was a beautiful lazy days. Woke up with the intention of not wanting to do very much and proceeded to make that come to life.

Think to a large extent the day was made special because of S- a lovely Italian man, whose eyes crinkle and hide in his face when he is laughing and he laughs a lot. We spent a day together only and in that one day this is what I got to learn about the incredible life he leads...

A person with a regular job, in the middle of which he expanded his comfort zone with small steps. First small step was him commencing to dabble in theater, learnt a bit of reiki and did the most incredible thing that I got to know about in real life

Mission - Improving Communication


The plan was to talk to people, without any additional plan. So instead of thinking about it, he did something simple. set up a table in a market square, placed a small billboard on it stating "free for a conversation. no charges"

It was hard, people looked at him like he was mad, he was alone with everyone walking by. There was no trust, there were jokes and sniggers. Till one person sat down and they talked. Then another.... soon he enrolled a friend and they had 2 tables and everyweekend, the world he knew expanded while he remained rooted to his real routine.

This trigged in him a desire to see the world and that is what he has been doing. 1.7 months and counting.....an experience that can have few parallels.

Some S'isms that struck a cord in me are:

• life comes in 7 year cycles, there is a up and a down, makes the best of each stage
• the hardest thing about planning a long travel is deciding to do it- the rest flows from there
• people are the same- and yet so different. What you give out is what you shall get back
• Travelling soon changes from becoming an external thing about seeing and visiting to an inner journey, watching yourself grow and change, adapt to uncertainity, learning to remain curious and open, taking hiccups in your stride and letting it be. 
• These two years are my lifes gift to me. 

As I peeled myself from the table, where the remains of an incredible italian dinner lay scattered, I caught myself wistfully wishing for having the courage, savings and potential to gift us this exploration. The form may differ but the sheer vastness of the landscape is non paralleled. 

Relationships are built on very fragile threads.  Here I don’t mean only the romantic relationships, but each bond in the form of your partner, parents, colleagues, friends, acquaintances, the neighborhood guard- almost each person has a format of interaction that gets developed with time.

They are the greatest teacher and the biggest deceivers.  Somewhere in the middle of one, the relationship gets a life of its own- people stop thinking of what they want, and make the other person more important.

The first masks comes up.

Honey, will you meet me tomm? I would love to spend some time in the evening with u… the accurate answer may actually be- aah! No!!! I have shit loads on my plate being a Monday morning and cant make the time and come all the way, but instead the answer that comes is.. sure thing, shall definitely try and come there

Both parties are happy.  One building a dream evening, the other content with a commitment that has been half promises.

Lies said for the others benefit, to keep things from heating up.

We all do it. The frequency and the extent may vary but somewhere down the line, we find it easier to be franker with our friends and colleagues that with the closest relationships we have. Don’t want to hurt them – or worse don’t want them to know who we really are, because then they maynot love us anymore.

Phew, finding myself a close spectator to the turmoils of a friends relationship has made me wonder. IS there a better way ?

Don’t have one.  The breakup of a relationship that somehow you allowed to become central to your life, sweeps the ground off your feet. Nothing makes sense, you cant eat, cant stay away from the phone the only person you want to speak with is the one person you should not reach out to.

You try to seek solace with friends and family… half heartedly head for that concert and movie. A shadow to yourself.  Your inner movie consuming all your space and attention. .. it takes a long time to bounce back from something that you cherished.. smooth nothings referring to destiny, many fish in the sea, there is something better waiting for you are words that fall off like drops of water on the surface of a lotus.

You cry, and sigh. Smile at the times gone by. Cringe when someone takes u to the same resteraunt. Miss holding a hand at the movies, and wait for a hug.

The good news is that it does get better.  You smile for no reason again. Buttercups in the rain are enough to make you happy and the happy you gets someone new ……. And there is one tiny difference- this time you KNOW that no matter what you will be OK.  

you will

comics not comical

I did not go. fine i admit it have not been to the silly gym for the whole week.
But I did have the bestest intentions to go last night, but here is what happened........

Tired from work at the early hour of 5.30 I drove home, worried a bit about my roommate who was not answering my calls for the whole day and I knew that could for the now spell disaster.. besides the urge to have a full cup of hot coffee with a smoke curling out of a ciggie was too compelling a combination to miss.

So i did the biggest mistake of all times.
Did not drive directly to the gym- went home. discovered telltale evidence that someone else had been there the night before..
Cringed, mentally sighed and then saw it

Sitting innocently on the bed- waiting to be opened, waiting to be read there it was
Asterix and Obelix comics- the fact that i had to use google for the right spelling says a lot!!!!!
after  years i sat down and like a child opened the comic book, the drawings, the illustrations all fought for my attention

and as i delved further I realised that I dont get comics- never really did.
The whole thing was a repeat of a plot stated on page 1-. they hurt romans and then move, eat, sleep drink some magic potion and repeat the same process over and over again....

its the same thing with Batman, or the phantom series, never got the having to scringe into the box and make out the entire tale.
even comic books dont do it for me...
but if there are to be exceptions - it is the single strip comics that i still get

aka- calvin and hobbes - and ...........hmmmm and none else
so that is that
comics and me have a bad relationship

think my mother is to blame

up and away

Today is a super day.

Just because I say it is. For starters, am feeling elated happy and alive, and peppy. Peppy- i like that word reminds me of the magic gum that crackles in your mouth. As i drove in to work today there was a super radio show on with a music director Leslie Lewis and his band, recounting anectodes of a his life with musicians of yesteryears.

To the wallowing of hang out pals, there is a turn in events, my darling universe seems to have responded and how. There is a party on tonight where almost each person met shall be new and not known from before, a women group is meeting up over the weekend and there is momentum

now to fix work and get things a little more actionated there and i am set. The feeling alive shall translate into a happy productive day and that by itself is good.

Simple and easy. motto for the day- get cracking

All right then

Life for the past few days has been like a Karan Johar and a Sanjay Leela Bhasali movie rolled into one. This no matter how you look at it, sounds like a huge box of tissues must have been consumed. 

Lets get to the story.

Saturday morning,  the day started with Social Network the movie and like all weak people susceptible to external influences triggered in me the desire to do three things. All of which like someone puts it, are thoughts going round and round like a merry go round in my head

1.            Study abroad or more precise to be part of this huge student mass once more where 4 am          seems a perfectly legitimate time to commence a business discussion while pissed out of your  head

2.            For a while, be the hard-nosed high heel lawyer in a large conference room with a shield of        papers making me feel important and use polite sarcasm to make nonsencial point

3.            But a lot more than both – made me want for a while have that audacity, the focus and the        conviction where one breathed, moved, thought, delivered and did  only one thing – the abiding                 passion of that one project whose end result was not something that mattered

Stepping out from the luxurious arm chair seats, I looked around as the life that was where all three elements were missing by choice. Hummed to myself, ransacked the book fair for the lonely planet and returned with the Immigrant- by Manju Kapur

Set in the Indra Gandhi era, it chronicles the tales of  Delhi women a professor who is turning 30.. Thirty, thirty, the number and the implication are drilled into the reader as a dreary picture is painted of her life in the DTC busses, the searing Delhi heat, the one roomed house with the trapped memories pushing each other for attention complete with the widowed mother. Grooooooooooooooooooan!!!! You almost want to make something happen for her to make the book move.

Luck shines on her, she moves to Canada and the next level of “immigrant issues commence”… not being able to assimilate, the isolation, missing family yada yada yada. Made me wonder if I too would stick out as an outsider if and when we move…., but doubt that.  The simple trick to assimilating no matter where and how you go is to – DO MORE – make a move and get friends and vala u are all right

Bantering on.

Sunday was a photo-shoot, book reading, movie seeing, walk and a meditation. The string of activities made the mood flow from frumpy to grumpy to all out bawling. Reason- not sure, just a bad case of the blues.

The lack of hang out pals was making it presence felt more and more, stronger and louder. Made calls and vala, now we seem to have some sort of a womens club meeting for every Saturday that has been initiated

Its Tuesday today, 4 days of dramatic emotions and swaying mood swings

Am back on my feet, happier and lighter. Amen to the remaining week commencing on the same note.

mid week break

A mid week break is a thrilling thing to get, allows one to hit the pause button and remain in a whirling bubble over the rest of the week, observing the rest of the world scurry along. So all I did was sit and read assorted articles from the Time magazine, and 2 things leapt out and stayed with me

JFK Presidential Campaign

The Time did a photo essay releasing the so far unpublished images from his presidential campaign. By itself the topic was run of the mill and the images not path breaking.  Set in the 1960’s the campaign moved across the breadth of America gathering  votes and meeting people.  More than the President, the happy shiny faces of the people leaped out at me-  Optimism, surge of faith, hope all expressions colliding together to leap up and out.

As I sat gazing at those faces, on a random afternoon of Nov 2010, could not but help thinking that each of the young people captured in that one moment were not dead, or at best old and wrinkled. Each of them had lived their lives, each of them in that ONE MOMENT -  were people with real worries, some ambitions, some aspirations, and each made some choices. But at the end they faded , as shall you as shall me.

Sounds morbid.

But was not the feeling that I had. Remember a line from a Murakami, don’t remember which book.. he said

"Unfortunately, the clock is ticking, the hours are going by. The past increases, the future recedes. Possibilities decreasing, regrets mounting." -— Haruki Murakami

And another line the exact quote of which I cant get – which said

“ As I stood there gazing at the crowds rushing through the square, it hit me that a 100 years from now not one of these people shall remain, everything shall be gone, changed altered, the reality of this moment was fleeting”

This thought actually made me light, the realization that everything was and is fleeting, That the moment comes and goes, that the worries are never as big as we think, the achievements never that huge and there is nowhere really really to go.

That one day, everything we too know is going to poof off and go and what we shall be with with are a few karmas, some samaras and the memories. Nada is the rest.

Made me sign, get a drink and be silly. Be mad and a little glad, to shed a little of the worry wart and laugh. Got high, got silly made nonsense jokes and laughed willy nilly.

I like. 

fanning the embers of friendship

Last year around this time, my best friend sent me a letter. It was ironical because she lived less than a kilometer away from my house, but she decided that what she needed to say was too deep to be sent over an email or just blurted out over the phone.

That time I read the letter, understood it but it is only today that it sank in. As I stand at the same threshold, feeling the same vaccuum, the depth of appreciation for what she shared is more real.

Dont have the letter with me right now, but the extracts of what she said was:

There are more friends on my facebook than days in the year, there are a greater number of people on the phonebook, yet somehow when one needed a friend to simple be with, be around from the lists of people around there seemed no-one there to call. 


Law of diminishing marginal utility:


As children, we spent no time thinking about how to make friends, there was no conscious investment of time and energy, everyone just was there to laugh and cry and if someone was not coming down, a collective yelling below the staircase would compell them to appear ;-)

With the passage of years, the friends became fewer, time investment higher and the mindless easy moments orchestrated sessions that needed to be carefully planned juggling complex schedules and commitments...hence the law of diminishing marginal utility

Time spent on orgn a session to having fun - increased rapidly
time spent actually being together- decreased rapidly

as I stand now, I realize that the childhood years have rewarded me well. Soul sisters, soul friend remain scattered across the globe. Friends whom I merely have to contact and can pour my heart out, friends that shall be there at a time of crisis, non judgemental, supportive and real.

Friends whom I call home.

But sadly, it is not everyday that you have a crisis or need a heart to heart. On most days you just need a someone to have a laugh with, maybe head for a walk, sit on a bench and yap about the little inconsequential moments of life... someone who knows that for this week the biggest thing u are stressing about is not Iraq or the War, but much simpler getting the presentation right for the big meeting... someone, u can call and make a random plan to meet for a beer, with legs perched on the balcony railing watching the rain come in and laugh about how the day went.

Loserly though the above sounds, I find solace that this situation is not mine alone. Irrespective of geography, almost everyone I know is in a similar boat. Everyone, seems to have at some point or the other stood on the shore, and waved a hanky to friends who have departed into the isolated worlds of marriage, demanding jobs, higher education or simply other cities. 

Wiped their tears and gone back to building new ties.

A strange thing though is how when one relocates, the 'newness' is enough of a momentum to find new places and avenue. One is more open to doing and discovering alone, and in the course of this discovery finds some new faces to call home

Comfort in a city, breeds for contentment and instills a sense of reluctance in gathering up the energy to do new. ALONE...


Despite having a few avenues, and interesting ones of things to pursue I shamelessly find myself looking once more at the phone list, wondering hoping that someone, anyone would want to come along for the next concert or the next film.

I dont have an end yet to this. what i do have is belief and hope
belief that if you want to make a change, you can
your thoughts choose your actions, so think well
and i think of being in a cess pool of friendship :-)

excitement died

This is the third attempt to post today, and as half hearted as not. Don’t have one core theme to post about but a number of small little things that dot the landscape called yesterday.

The new india

Generation Z, if that is what is called is the one that is in the early 20’s to the mid 20’s. Born in the mid 80’s they seem to have a far higher level of clarity on what they intend to do with their life. Take the case of AB, at 22 he has done a corporate job, 2 years of a teach for india assignment, started a ngo, and won the economic times –power of awards panel not to mention becoming a part time writer and a book author.

Or M, 23 years old, graduation done, masters done along with jobs held, ideal job found and now desperately ensuring that the idealism is not in any way hampered by doing something for the heck of it. The ability to do more squeeze more is the craft that they have honed to perfection.

Growing yourself

11pm me and S were speaking on the phone about the responsibility to keep ourselves alive and growing even as we balance the demands of a relationship, job, living by yourself. We realized that somehow at 30 the novelty factor associated with a lot of things we did earlier were gone..we enjoyed the occasional play, the movie, but it was not truly exciting.

The butterfly feeling we got as kids when we did new things, or waited for weeks before the Birthday came has somehow gone. Flew out of the window and has not been replaced by anything new.

The entertainment attractions of the adult us are not TINGLING – the experience junkies, aint getting a new high!

What then is a solution?

Just yesterday, as I helped a pal write an article on people who were party animals and are now into the reformed alternative lives I realized that I knew a lot of such people. But they sort look a little lost without the crutch of fun to hold on to..

What I my excitement about?

If I was to be honest? It has to be creating new, creating afresh and being artistic etc etc

Or else end up living life on a roller coaster, constant excitement guaranteed ;-)

Monday very blue

Why am I so annoyed? I know that I am but I don’t quite know what and why.

For starters it is a Monday. The day began not so well, added to this was a one and a half hour commute, Bangalore is becoming hot and sunny, and the pleasant mood is going, the heat comes with the relentless sun making me even more livid…..

The weekend was well, foodish and well crafted with lots of different experiments in the kitchen. And all that, the work is good, it a decent phase but I am feeling annoyed.

At me.

Missing me at the end of the day… missing movement, energy, people. Maybe it is the hormones, but the dullness of life is not something I am liking and need to get more moving on a daily basis. The urge to do is mine, the urge to be calmer is mine, to craft my story to be my person, to get a move on now and now and now.

Gawd, I hate how annoying Mondays can get at times.

Serious case of Monday blues. 

food extravaganza

Foodie weekends. This is what we have spent most of our energies into making and eating.

Sunday

Dinner
BBQ tuna
Egg fried rice
Baked potatoes
Paneer Tika
Corn on the Cob
Salad
with fresh sour cream

Tea Time
Banana Walnut Cake
Tulsi Tea

Lunch/Brunch
Chocolate and banana pancakes
bengali khitchi
curd

Saturday
Early dinner
Spaghetti with Gorgenzula ( if that is how u spell it) sauce
White wine
Toast with Goat cheese
and chocolate

Breakfast
Fried eggs with toast
Fruit Salad
Fresh Coffee

Friday
Dinner
Thai papaya salad
Veg Kebabs 
Rice

All of the above made at home, made together complete with cleaning the kitchen later and preparing the next meal thereafter. Talk about making it gourmet!

Net result, this is how most of the weekends seem to be spent, in a happy mess between thinking of meals, making something, quenching random food cravings, and shopping to create the meals. With a new balance of some working out, the food and the health shall both get balanced out

Buurrrp till then

Blondie works out

October came and with it the last quarter of the year. As I looked up at my room wall, the prettily written and typed out resolutions stared back at me.

One of the most prominent being the one about getting lean and mean- the man machine.. hahhaaaa; am so not anywhere close to that for the now. Am more the soft and sweet, cuddly bean… ;-)

Hmmm so the determined blondie decided to take matters in her own hands, be serious and hit the gym. (of course its been a month, and I have gone like 5 times, but that is not the topic of conversation here)

So I head to the gym, the owner gives me a huge huge discount for being one of those silly people who pay for the gym but never use it…get the phsio test done and am set.

Or so I thought.

My trainer assigned to me was this lanky tall man. Reminded me of the young angry version of amitabh bachan; except that this trainer had this happy smiley face, which for some one like me is critical?

Why?

Because it permits me to smile back in return, make a puppy face and get away from doing the last 300 crunches that the trainer is keen I do.  Net to net, I was in gym heaven. A good deal, a lanky trainer, and the size 0 Kareena Kapoor body was looking as a looming reality that I secretly have always aspired to.

Happy blondie, wraps up work and headed to the gym only to be told that my Amitabh trainer was sick and not there. However, I would be assisted by Naren.

Okies, I say.. trooping off to the treadmill laughing at the antics of some elephant baby in the African jungle. Warming up my smile and muscles to get Naren to let me off early too.

Then I see Naren approach.  I see mental images of Brendan Fraizer from George of the Jungle .. bulging muscles, rippled chest , cropped hair and no smile. Blondie stops smiling

That began the next 45 minutes of torture.

Barked orders of spine straight, no elbows closer in, reduce your dumbbell weight, 15 counts, let me show you how it is done.  Naren the serious body builder would like 120 kilos to demonstrate the art of lifting weight, Blondie would go to the same machine and lift 20 kilos .. nearly fainting at the 15^th repetition.

As I post this.. Amitabh is still missing in action. Naren has not grinned even once and Blondie has been flashing her smile on a nearly constant basis hoping for some respite, so far success rate is the only thing coming close to size 0.

Darn fitness!

Dinner with Friends

Dinner With Friends

A Feroz Khan play, featuring the who’s who of the theatre community was acting in it. A simple plot, it revolved around 2 couples where everyone was friends with each other. 

One couple was the quintessential ‘perfect couple’ with the right food and wine, the house done just so, two romping kids, travel and communication about everyone and everything else, but a deep rooted hesitation to  communicate about them selves

In stark contrast there was the other couple. With issues and grouses that existed and were confronted. Lack of intimacy, lack of passion, a shadowed living that was taking place one behind the other. They break up and there is a divorce that then looms up because they cant anymore live the sham

So well they break up and then comes the unraveling of the friendship.

On one hand there is the couple who has been around for a while, going through the rhythms of stagnation and boredom; the emis intruding in the “living of life’. In stark contrast there is the recently divorced, and entered into new relationship couple who have found happiness.

• o   Happiness in DOING THINGS.. random dance classes, early morning jogs.
• o   Passionate love making, imagination in conversations
• o   Newness made them happier more alive and hence more alive, newness was good
• 
  

As I sat there, I wondered for me how life would pan out, would I evolve and change, would I become a nag and cling. How and what we do depends so much on remaining conscious and not fearful.

Am reading a wonderful book called Snychro Destiny by Deepak Chopra and the simple statement of it is that what you give more and more attention to, surfaces more and more in your life….look for coincidences in you life, nurture them because that is one way that the universe is signaling that what you are headed to….

Exiting the play, and heading for dinner…. a little head of anxiety loomed inside. And the tiny voice was answered by a deeper one of flow of being and living and moving with that which is the still and true part of me. 

spaciousness

Lie back on  the grass

Look up at the sky

Just watch the stars and the sky

see the moon

observe the stars and know

that there is someone, something, 

somewhere somehow,

holding the entire galaxy up above

Was watching Kaun Baneha Coreparti yesterday (become a millionaire; game show) that posed a question for the Rs 50,00,000 question. 

What planet has seven hills named after the 7 astronauts who died after the Coloubmia space shuttle disaster. The options were Jupiter, Mars, Venus and Mercury. 

Thats when my dinner companion gave me information that I was ignorant about. 

Did you know that Venus is full of clouds that are so dense that the land is impossible to reach? That Jupiter is  a whirling mass of gasses and matter and there is no land that is yet formed as the heat/gravity is not dense enough to compress and form land? That the heat of the Mercury, is not permitting any human launch to take place.

I remember a trek to Hemkunth Sahib, about 8 years ago... on a chilly night I sat and watched the stars. Silent. Calm. 

And it hit me, that I too was a part of this cosmos. The rigours of daily life made me forget, made me feel so in control that i let the intelligence of the cosmos be assumed, yet as the song of thomas crown affair stated....

And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

There is no huge moral of the story behind this post, just a step back finger on the lips, head kocked in wonder at the sheer massiveness of the space that we live in, everyday and the extent we don't acknowledge or note. 

No I am have not been hired by Robin Sharma. 

Nein

Nein means no in German.

Na, La, Jo, No, Nahin, Lela, there are several and more ways of getting this one word across. But seems that Indians with our plenitude of languages, have not got the hang of making use of this one word.

There was a thread started by a bunch of female travellers, who are used to hosting people on couch surfing. These are people who have made the art of being a good host, so refined that they have let their personal lives go to hell for the sake of being a good host

Example 1

A lady opens her house on Diwali night to a couch surfer who decided to drop in at 10 pm, and despite knowing that the house is full suggests at 12 am that he shall now wander in the city to find a place to sleep, resulting in.. yes you guess it the lady offering him a mat on the living room floor and the man getting away with the attitude of .-- come on i am just sleeping on ur couch

Example 2

3 girls come into womens house, dont assist in anything not even dumping their plates in the sink, make no plans to see the country, wait for the hostess to organize their day complete with drops and picks and even get her to pay for the transport....

There was an example 3, 4 and 5. In my experience there has never been an experience this bad, but the way I see it the blame on the hosts as well.

• Use the word NO.not ok. tell people and take action. I have seen people close to me use that word and make it clear when things are not ok
• Be nice, be polite, but dont kill yourself in the process. There is a figure it out kind of travel arrangement that does not need molly coddling
• Let them help, and allow them to be involved

And for heaven sakes lets not be hosts that are so soft that you forget that this is at the end of the day your home, a place for you to relax into. 

couch surfers

Have you heard about a system called Couch Surfers? Its a way/lifestlye choice.... of travelling where instead of staying at a hotel you choose to stay with people from the country with the intent of not only saving hotel cost, but also getting to know the country you are visiting from the eyes of the people staying there

As cool as the concept it, and I do think that it is pretty awesome for the sense of trust it is based on.........

But the little little things that happen as a generic pain areas for both the guests and the hosts .... For starters the coolest thing about hotels is the ability to immediately become the "I am the customer I am the King person" and hence be entitled to demand. 

Completely contrary to this is the couching experience.. you are to be (however understated it is as an emotion) subservient, adapt to the ways of the household, assist in the dishes and such like, even though you may have a 36 hour flight below you.. and have to be polite and make conversation and be interested.. all of which I think are huge huge things to have the mental and physical capacity for when all you want is a warm bed...!!!

Now if you are going.. aaaawwww poor little surfers think of the hosts

Well they open the doors to all persons, nationalities and ages... You never ever know what is the next thing walking through the door.. as in you do have a vague sense of the person what they do and where they are from, but you dont reallly know know.. 

like they could have grubby feet, or an accent that makes no sense, or you just cant talk to each other, or they are fine and interesting but after a few days you are sort of hmmm wanting your space.. they are also lovely. nice and a wonderful way to get to know a little bit ,more about a place that you have not been to.. agreed

But small things can get your goat and the other person maynot even realize it. The akwardness of the situation then is how do you tell him/her something. when are u rude, when are u hospitable, the line of protecting your space vs letting them be is thin and for some people not good at saying it as it is tricky..

As I plan a few trips here and there. I know that I am more than fine being the person who is surfing.. maybe it is a reluctance stems from not being in control. not knowing what you are going to get at the end of a long travel day? or think it is deeper, being 'subservient' polite and sensitive to someone, something you dont know  is a toughie.. 

egoistic bitch i sound like

diwali night

Have you ever had those days, where u look forward to something and when it is there in front of you, you sort of wonder what the fuss was about.

Diwali was i am ashamed to say sort of like that.
I am a Monica!!!!!!!!!!!!! Have become a cow kind of a women, where I think I derive more pleasure from the organizing of an event that being in one... Shocking this revelation is to me.

See, for a long time Diwali was about gambling the night away. Teen Patti a skill of lying, keeping your calm, calculated risk, thumping moments where you wonder if you are going to win or not.. was how the nights were spent. Well that is exactly what we created and got. The gang was there, the cards being slid on a specially made black jack table and the stakes enough to rivet you.

And where was i??

sleeping, sitting or serving. 
out of choice!!!!!!!

For some reason, I refused to let myself gamble. The rationale that I gave myself was I did not have money- lame could have borrowed, the stakes are too high- lame again its a mindset, there was a person there who was being sort of aggressive, -- possible but come on its my loss if i let someone stop me from having fun..

So what was the fucking reason??

Crap as it sounds, dont have one. Maybe I am a pseudo intellectual who suddenly wanted to deep meaning in everything, CRAP again. I am a believer in SILLINESS!!!! and so I am a WUZ! and that is is.. Blondie it a silly silly goose, who just at the wrong time and place decided to go into the retreat and withdraw mode... Smart aint i??

LOSER!

entering the 30's

The past week or two have been instenely couple based. Well here is the record so far...

• had dinner with a couple on the verge of splitting
• attended a wedding, so met a couple on the start of a journey
• luncheon with another who had filed her divorce papers, and 
• today a friend who recently got married and was home for the "first diwali"

Each of these were love marriages, undertaken with years of getting to know the other person and with open eyes and ears. The success ratio has been well- one is to one!

As I sat with the last person on the list this afternoon, I suddenly got the creeps. The conversation was scary, very very scary. Why? because it was so very mundane... small ...

Let me explain.

We were meeting after a while, and we gave a generic update. As we swapped stories, another person joined us .........and with his addition the REALITIES of the 30's came marching in uninvited.

They spoke about house emi's. 

Car loans

Running away from bosses, to goa with cousins for a break- todrink n smoke

babies and maternity leave

finances

changing jobs-- not careers, not chasing a dream, just moving setups

It reeked of everyday life. It reeked of acceptance and chugging along. The 30's suddenly seemed here to stay. As I walked her to the car, where yet another COUPLE was waiting, the jeans clad girl i knew in May, replaced by a salwar kameez, mangasultra wearing, husband totting creature....I wondered to myself

Did I want to belong to this circle? 

For the next decade, did the biggest worries in my life seemed destined to be dentist appointments and the admissions into the appropriate schools?

Did wanting to build a home or maybe a house, imply that there was no larger goal to pursue.

Passion was missing. Is missing. And i am a hypocrite beyond belief because at the end of the day... at this point of time I am one of them. The Chuggers!

At this very same location.... there were some very interesting art pieces on display. Dried flowers made to depict a setting sun, or just small flowers arranged to depict explosion. I leaned in to read the artists name.. and smiled.. I knew the artist. He was a close friend. He was intense, mad, passionate, riding his cycle with his thoughts keeping him company. 

There were those people that existed too. the dreamers. and somehow in connecting with the both the dreamers and chuggers I sat in between.......hanging in animated suspense to know which path I would lead.

Please god. Give me the courage, the clarity and the opportunity not to become a CHUGGER