bubbleless blondie

Yesterday was a very disturbing day. My bubble was pricked and poked until it resembled a deflated balloon, that still is floating listlessly on the ceiling, not yet ready to surrender to gravity and not energized enough to soar into the skies. Reality comes and bites. Always. Bitch.

Spoke a lot  to Mr. X who has just broken up, compelled me to think of what and how we choose a mate. 

Without sounding cocky, I consider myself to be a modern women wanting the stability of a long term relationship (am staying away from the term marriage as it gets too many additional colourings), who has a hosts of varied interest, has managed to make a life choices that permit her a flexibility, financial well being and yet not be trapped in the corporate routine. Genetically restless and explorative ensures there are a host of things that one wants to experience and do. 

The above is a HUGE PROBLEM!  

Reasons. When it comes to choosing some one to be that long term partner the check list people like us, read as unconventional people create is mind boggling. 

Checklist item one----- Personality match. 

The person must be interesting, witty, core being a a good person, gentle yet aggressive, go getter, achiever and passionate about living a full life. The last one gets detailed into. 

(i) wanting more from life than money and security

(ii) curiosity about exploring the unknown

(iii) drive to make his/her dreams come true

Checklist item 2--- Practical issues

The basics to be considered here are, financial well being, attitude towards life, family background, success got or not, education, culture and the differences, food, music, travelling styles. the HOW the person wants to live life. 

So if his idea of a good day, is work and then a beer and thats perfect and yours is work, walk, no beer, conversation, a late night drive, then there is a problem. How are you keen to spend your time.

Checklist 3.-- Interests and Work

What defines you are these that you choose. As you enter a persons house the "who they are" should yell out from the walls. their space reflects what you are stepping into. What you choose to inculcate as hobbies, if any at all tells the other, about what drives you. 

The work the person does, is the next indicator. Because that is where they shall spend 76% of their time and it rubs of on what they think of, the people they are surrounded with and the attitude, conversation, wit that comes up. ....... Not to mention the impact on the social circle u belong to. And Friends and Family define us much more than we care to admit. 

Phew. this is the checklist. That we never physically carry but are constantly tallying people against. 

Over the past few weeks there has been something new brewing. The candy floss land was beautiful, but the subconscious mind more wary than the monkey brain.  With each interaction, the crafty sub-conscious would pick up a nugget of data and store it in the belly. 

small things, the way you order the waiter in the resteraunt, how to address the cook, what do you do in stressful scenes, how is your house done up, what do u want to do on the weekend. Tiny snippets were taken and filed against the cluttered checklist that exists there. 

Mulling over the list, the gut then gives me an answer. The mind and heart refuse to accept it and the tussle begins. You see the silly sub fellow is driven by perfection and forgets that finding someone who can be at a point of time

Your friend, your lover, your partner, your inspiration to live and drive u to succeed, your companion, your hobby does, your fitness guru, your spiritual founder is impossible.

Because deep down the gut believes everything is possible. 

I know some people have a very different take on relationships. KR a pal in Chennai looking for an arranged marriage said - it does not matter, there are issues with whoever u marry so as long as the person is not mentally challenged its fine. hmmm well i wish i had that simplicity. 

The unconventional people seem to carry mini helicopters and an uncanny ability to tie urself up in knots. But really which of these criteria's do you drop? Which one do you then kick your self 10 years down the line for knowing but choosing to label it as "imperfections"?

Having said all that, if you are in love! Deep Deep sweeping love, the above checklist gets swept out of the window and you have only retarded smiles. The list creeps back, little by little with time, but atleast by then your decision has already been made. 

For now. reality is an unwelcome visitor

Bubble less Blondie

gender roles

I started the day spinning around the moon, wearing honey rimmed glasses. It was perfect, and funny and real. It was warm and gooey. Then I stepped out into reality.

Friends had just broken up. And the glass pieces were still drawing blood. Leaving the strained breakfast place behind, I went for a little adventure. Pallavi theater, a unknown place in Bangalore to meet a bunch of ladies who had applied for a loan.

We walked into the office of Janalakshmi, to see about 40 women seated on the floor a few with children waiting for the loans to be issued. Our job was to just speak with them and see what it is that they thought about when they took the loans

Kannada illliterate, me tried hard to cut the ice using hand gestures and smiles, till a few hindi speaking women  came and spoke to me. Each of them was a story of strength, courage and conviction.

Saleema, 20 years mother one 1, had the balls to take a Rs 10000 loan and run a saree  business with the guarantee that something would come from it. Riya, a single mother said she would run a tailoring shop and the last one was the cutest with a full business plan of making saree blouses.

Got a chance to see some of the files. What i saw recorded there humbled me to my nail paint. Families after families who had opted for micro finance loans had listed their income status. almost each of these had income levels that did not exceed 17000.

Tailors, painters, auto drivers, health officers, agarbatti makers, saree shop people all worked long days for the sum total of 2000-9000 rs a month. In this sum they managed to buy food, pay rent, entertain themselves, cover medical and have the galls to take a loan! That too when they had minimum of 3 nion income generating
people depending on them..............

Interestingly, the educated blokes were not any richer than the 7/9/12th standard pass outs. The one that had a college degree had a clerical white collar job that got him about 6-9000 Rs while the non educated managed the same about by being a bit more enterprising... Escalator mechanic.. you got to be enterprising for that one to happen.

Made me think. It takes a certain mindset, confidence or to use a hindi term "Jigar" for these women to not feel trapped by their lack of education, limited skills, non business sense and say Fuck it, was the attitude, no desperation, no sense of fear, almost no hesitation just sure fire we shall do this attitude.

That is how you do it.
Just get up and live a little.
Make a dream, make it work,
see it flourish or see it crumble.
Pick the leftovers start again,
making one change that may take u to the end.
the trick though is that u never know
what when where comes the end!

Scream theraphy

Bounty Hunter. Jeniffer and Gerald Butler. Shall not even try to pretend that it is a good movie, it is not, is kidna confused between wanting to do the Mr and Mrs Smith kinda chase based friction movie and/or keep it sweet and go down the Hugh Grant genre way. Like all things in the middle, it moves in neither direction and you find the yawns coming on, even as they squabble for the 10th time.

But for all the crap that the movie amounts to there are some things that are universal.

Bull Fights. - In relationships. The ability to stop freaking pussy footing around the other person and really be mean and vindictive, think we all feel that but are too polite. A stab wound once in a while, some blood shedding shall let a lot of the GRRRRRRR out

Drama - Fucking hell to be in a short intense drama, and u are set with stories for a bit of time, the chase, the thrill the living on the edge is what every relationship needs. Clears the air. Sadly usually it comes with heart attacks.

Anger- Healthy ones. Where u slam doors, scratch, get mini violent, yell. Saw a lady on the road yesterday yelling her guts out and targetting this hapless man who just sat mute on the road. Freaking Liberating. Takes me for ever to just let it rip out. Love the guys who can just perfect the yelling like how..

Knowing someone inside out. --- There is this scene when he knows her tears are a sham, or when they are not. The beauty of a relationship is always in those freaking small things, knowing that the twitch of the nose means that he is very very tense, that the hair on finger means temper god has landed,  wordless conversation is what makes it special.

Am done with mills and boon saga for the day. Work beckons. Work is getting interesting too... must to write more about that just to prove that there is a brain that the head has been beckoned with

On the mention of head.. the stitches seem to be finally taking a looong walk, to kingdom come! Finally. i say am missing the gym and rain walks of all things to miss in life! Get a grip

maids album

I groggily tried to piece together the jigsaw puzzle of Lalit Modi that Times was displaying for me in the papers, when Gun the maid came trooping over with her family album form a year ago.

They were pictures of a celebration, her daughter had come of age and they had organised a Function to facilitate the occasion. The girl was almost looking like a bride, as the snaps showed her changing from one saree to the other with the "traditional hands behind the ears" coy smiles being exchanged for the camera.

People jostled around her, as the album increasingly began to resemble a mock wedding. You know the kind of images i am talking about. Everyone standing straight and tall. Looking into the camera with the best look, evident that the wardrobe's best has been shaken to life. The background is usually a loud colour of red and blue stripes and the end of the album is always embarrassing pictures taken when people are shoving food down the throats.

This was all of that and more. .. it was a sense of accomplishment. A sense of pride and identity. I know she struggles for money, but those images were not one of desperation but one of attainment having arrived a statement where each of her 3 kids stared unashamedly into the camera and smiled. For them tommorrow has no sense of fear

I smiled as I saw her cocky son, get a image shot with his brown and white striped pants doing the talking. As her daughter, with the 3 new saree, laughed the shy laugh while the priest blessed her.

I GRIMACED, as her mother told me that she was looking to marry her off now. The daughter was in class 8th, almost 14 now and it was ripe for the wedding to be fixed within the year. It seemed cruel to be promised so much more in life, and not to have it delivered. For her not to be able to express her discontenment at the upcoming nuptials...

Read any book on Afghanistan, the Arab states, India most of it, parts of South East Asia and Africa, the lack of uniform women rights with respect to even the basic things like marriage, are denied. and what are the solutions? Education? Awareness? Bullshit. My maid is aware. She lives in a metropolitan,  may not be literate but is street smart her knowing the language shall not change her ability to make these decisions.

its deeper than that. its a collective thinking of what and how we value relationships. Of how we view a woman, married or single. That perception has to change

The term Spinster is such an ugly word. And Bachelor a happy one.
Ever wondered y?

have urs?

Riddle. 

No woman can have enough of these. Every girl has at least one of these. Nothing can ever replace these and they usually come with a life long guarantee clause. Often subjected to abuse,  neglect and abandonment, they are still usable needing only a shaking down and some gentle prodding to pull back into shape. Never easy to be around, annoyingly accurate and irritatingly supportive these are non purchasable and non trade-able. 

These are those freaking things called Girl friends. and in my life, some men are my best girl friends. Can we bury the no man can just be a friend argument already? Have more than enough man girl friends and no its a compliment not an insult. 

It takes a special kind of relationship where u can be ur grouchiest best and the person still does not want to abandon you at the closest dust bin. And man was i in a lousy mood that morning. 

First of all it was hot. Sunny blazing hot. In that disgustingly hot day, i had to visit not one but 2 doctors, my head hurt, was sleepy and morose, M was nowhere close to returning, my stitches were threatening to split my scalp open and the email not working.. aarrggghh! and just as i was leaving home the CENSUS people showed up wanting to know my caste, dads name, marital status.. ...... y y cant these questions change? 

And then, and I know the moment I write about the next episode, I shall come across sounding like the super bitch of the century but what is IS. So after that incredible start to the morning, I get into the red Tata and am about to leave the house, when the guard informs me that no matter what I cant leave for another hour.

Confused look means that he leads me to the narrow lane that marks the exit from the building where a ambulance is standing like a resolute bull refusing to budge. Reason, someone in my lane passed away a few days ago and the last rites were taking place in the house courtyard. Once they were over, they were to going to load the ambulance and move.

Right, I get the criticality of the moment, I appreciate the fact that it is not the easiest situation, but I also don’t get the assumption that it is completely allright to stop everyones elses life and get away with FEELING SUPERIOR at continuing with the non accommodative behaviour.

For 45 minutes, I stood on the lane, with the red tata sending more than subtle hints to the complete disdain of any motion. To make it worse 2 ppl came and told my guard to get me on a Good Behaviour Leash as this was a society moment of grief!

Ok whatever, its not about this exact moment but the assumption that collective need is morally entitled to overcome individual wants. Mr. Coffee my Delhi best friend for 5 consecutive weekends was driven out of his house, by the compulsive need of his neighbours to have something called a JAGRAN through out the night, where because u invoke the gods you are permitted to blast the loudspeaker till the sun peeks through …but remove DEAR GOD and have Pink Floyd blasting and rest assured the next morning a letter to vacate shall accompany ur newspaper.

You name it. Durga Pooja – Stopping roads allowed. Ganesh Chaturthi- Allowed. Janmasthmi procession allowed. Sitting on the side walk at 11.00 pm talking to GR on the park bench, in tones that the ant sitting next to us could not catch; NOT ALLOWED. Because its indecent for a man and a women to be out alone at that hour. May not be the best comparison but it speaks of a prejudice that does exist.

So by now steaming like a kettle I drive cross country to N’s place. Yelling at fellow cars, honking every 3 minutes am the epitome of bad female cussed driving. Reach her place, barely hug her before launching myself on the bed, gracing the pillow and refusing to move till my head cooled down.

Feeling dizzy, I help myself to food while she potters with the internet connection fixing thing. Eat my fill play with the pet and feel a semblance of calm return.

Know u are good friends indication 1

·         You feel no hesitation in opening the fridge door and prodding the contents to see what you like. Finding nothing appealing u feel no hesitation in fixing ur self a snack.

N dragged me out. Accompanied me to doctor one, yelled at my stupid attitude towards my health in general, did not rat about me to the doctor even though she was dying to. Without complaining, let me remain the lousiest grouch as I went and cussed at the Emergency Room attendant when he refused to remove my STITCHES and all the babies began laughing at me.. all she did was take my hand get me painkillers head to the air-conditioned café coffee day and let me slouch till the coffee did its trick.

Know u are good friends indication 2

·         When you know how to just take control of the situation and do so without being asked

And then the best time awaited us. We headed upstairs to the pampered land called Salons. The sweetest man hair dresser, who had cut his finger just recently during a bike accident had empathy. He saw me and knew that salvation lay in a shampoo.

Magic hands and thoughtfulness meant he did whatever it took to get me out of my misery. Half standing, bent over, in the most embarrassing posture ever the grime of the accident was rinsed, leaving me lighter than ever before.

N just stood there taking idiotic pics with her phone, before we sat like 2 princesses and got the full treatment. Manicure, Pedicure, Massage were all permitted because we sat and yapped nonstop about men, dogs, bosses, others, non-others and cackled about the hideous nail paints we could get.

The level of conversation was so juvenile that this women next to us enquired which college we went to. We decided then and there to write in to Santoor! So what if she said so because of our lame conversation and nothing to do with our looks!

Know u are good friends indication 3

·         Spending an afternoon lazying together does not need a pre-planned agenda

As the rains came we chatted on about the unknown tomorrows that faced us. And she was more excited than me about my life, more nervous, probably more cautious. But knew that letting me be was all she could do.. and did.

Drove back home non sulking and non anxious.

Warm and content like a cat that has spent hours before a fireplace, being stroked to sleep

To each of my girlfriends, lets have more afternoon like these! 

After ages

Why do we Indians have a tendency to add "no" after every sentence. 

Nice movie.. na? You saw the match yesterday na? U live in Defence Colony na.....? It like we are permitting the other person to have a contrary opinion and not feel bad about it before hand! Strange.

Anyway, to trivia. So am proud to state that yesterday after AGES blondie let herself so and get haaaaaaaaaapy higgghhhhhhhhhh. hick! hick! 

So here is what happened. Landed up at Opus at 2 in the afternoon looking for french breakfast. Ha some people take Indian Stretchable Time to a new level all together. The deal was all u can eat and drink in some sum and so we proceeded to get the food and more importantly the Mojitos rolling.. ;-) and roll they did. In 4 hours thing I knocked back some 7 of them in rapid succession, sucking every last drop from every glass till the mint came through..

The result.... Blondie became more and more amusing to be with. Oscillated from extreme joy, to the most obnoxious questions in a span of 30 seconds, to weepy tears all colliding with each other to be the first to get attention. The food forgotten all we did was drink and talk and am indebted to the drink in letting me be free to say the sweetest secret, the largest fear and the impossible balance that is being asked of me to do. It all was shared and resolved. 

Came back to hit the bed at 6 pm and remain there for ever. Missed connecting with SR, and the ringing of the doorbell confused the evening lights out of me. Barely grumpily surfaced at 9 ate and crashed again. 12 hours of sleep is a record that i have not managed in a loong time.

Obviously it had to happen on the night my parents needed to reach me and got frantic with worry. The things i end up doing to them, i hope my kids are never this scatter brained. 

So the new resolve is to be alcohol free till the BIG FAT WEDDING comes and learn to behave at that gathering.. critical thing to do. 

But man i love Mojitos. The mint makes it cool. the Lime ensures u dont feel the vodka or rum., it looks like Summer and feels stupendous. Has to be the best cocktail that was invented ever!

and does not leave u smelling like the closest wine shop. Its the classy way to get wasted. am a loser i am writing about the merits of a drink. 

well lets just say am grateful for the conversation that it did bring ;-0

home sweet home

Am sitting on my bed, listening to an ancient song of Lucky Ali, plonked on my belly with the blog post being the only thing that I am willing to give any attention. This feels good a feeling of coming home to where I belong.


Had a fantafabulous weekend with lots of action, people, conversations, newness, oldness, lazy massages and doctors, warm sleep the kind that fills ur bones with relaxation were the main flavours of past few hours. No matter how endearing the encounters there is nothing better than returning to your own space. Your silence in a way.


Strangely feel that way about this writing also. Miss it if I dont write, because there is just so much that happens every 24 hours that not recording it daily makes it seem jaded and old. Anyway! so stop the drivel and lets get down to some serious gossiping. n there is a lot of that!


So FIRST UP-- Blondie is growing up. I cannot believe that it is happening but it is.


SIGN 1 -  Have a retarded smile that comes and goes without fail every minute


SIGN 2-   Reasonably yummy man sent me a mail asking me if he could come and crash with me for a week. The universe really wanted to test me because this fellow n me had so much in common. He was into Reiki, n EFT, n gymming, n pscyotheraphy n from AUSTRALIA and had the same line as his anthem as my email signature.. u know the "Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." ...  come on so what are the chances of that happening.. and and and and.. I turned him down! AM SHOCKED at how sensible i am being. By my standards its appalling...!!!


SIGN 3-  Blondie may cancel/postpone/defer holiday .... Ok so this one is yet on the maybe zone, but it is something that I am even entertaining, which by itself if humongous.. To elaborate I never ever cancel trips, it is equal to getting an amputation almost.... One of my closest friend is getting married that time, and even then I refused to cancel the trip. But now am voluntarily considering it.. for what WORK!!! How grown up am i becoming.. Scandalous


SIGN 4- .I am listening to doctors the silly things and not running off to the gym before the stitches are removed.. and even ate almost all medication, and spent half the weekend going to doctors voluntarily! ;-)


But not all is lost. At the same time this mature person me has spent 12 hours passed out from a drinking binge, run off to the airport at 3 am, spent half day chatting and doing trivia, played with 4 dogs on the road, kicked and bitten a few people, chatted nonstop with friend in parlour such utter nonsense that a female next to me asked what college we were in since no one else would make those statements, missed a business meeting because she was passed out and hmm driven parents mad with anxiety over non reachable status. 


So the mad girl lives too! Amen and touch wood.

Amit found the words

The 2 India's. We have all seen it, felt it, heard and experienced it.
We have all grappled with trying to define the 2 distinct realities
We have spent 3000 on dinners
and cringed in giving Rs 10 to the child selling roses on the red lights
Seen the glass buildings come up, where the neighbourhood park was
and seen the flyover not be made despite 5 yrs
both exist, both are real
flying and grounded
This is India.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ffem8YhMOHU

Its time to grow wings

straight from the heart

I don’t have anything to write about today.  There is a lot to state and share but there is a feeling of digging a layer deeper and not writing about any of the trivia of this happened and that happened and guess what she said….. Fluff.

The last 24 hours as far as fluff is concerned has been very productive, new fluff has been accumulated that shall be dealt with, monies made and for these gifts that seem to come from the universe I am grateful. Very very grateful. It seems to me that there is something deeper at play here, a little playful nudge like a mother would give to her child as he stood waiting at the entrance of the play ground.

In a nut shell, work is looking up and that makes me feel secure. There is drama in the personal life and that makes me dreamy. So all things said there is a tingling sense of relief and gratitude. Am crossing half my body parts as I even write this, petrified of jinxing even the tiniest bit of this turn around.

Today I want to go back to where this all started from.  The patience, endurance and the stamina to not give up came from an unquestionable belief in the manifestation of possibilities. Stated like that it sounds BULL SHIT.. yea roll your eyes now .. lord not again kind of a thing is the immediate reaction. But for me its been a magic wand that is hopelessly slow but works always. Not exactly as u thought, but there is wisdom in the new direction too.

This belief is ingrained at such a cellular level that after a while there is an internal craving to return to the silence of the soul. The centering needs to be revisited. For no reason but because it is there, waiting for its turn to get attention from all the external goings on that consume instant attention.

Was walking with GR yesterday, and he ticked me off for letting this side remain a flirtatious pursuit. Intellectual masturbation was not what this was about. It was a Sadhana, something that you did without fail because u wanted to not because you had to.

He told me about his guru, someone who every year went to pray to this Shiva Lingam deep in the interiors of a jungle where the only other visitors were serpents. Cobras. King Cobras the wild ones. His guru along with his disciplines would enter to pray to the lingam and return unscathed.  Faith or Hypnosis??

Or person 2, who donated all his savings to the Tirupati temple and left it to god to provide the three things he wants, a place to stay, the ability to come for Darshan and the healthy old age. He got all three along with the discipline of sadhana to get higher stronger in his intention to attain the divine.

Mr. X called yesterday.  He is not a friend, and in fact was recently put in the “maybe a slime ball” bucket for certain reasons. His issue he could  not sleep for days, tests did not help, doctors merely said sleep son there is nothing amiss. … but try as he might he cant. His brain does not empty out, at all. So then there was no option but to let meditation calm him down and like all consultants he went shopping to the various ashrams to see what his needs were.

I laughed. If only an ashram could fix this in 3 days. If only it did not need self work but Om 1, Om 2 and Om 3… if only the mind was not that big a monkey… if only shanti was found in substances then we would not be this lost.

Miss X called this morning, asking about EFT and what that did or did not do. She was lost, post the breakup of a relationship and needed solutions for the doubts and questions that plagued her.  Was wondering if Vipasana was the route or EFT, where was she to be found.

Spoke to her, came off sounding very Zen. She asked me then, what do u do when u are mind fucked. I smiled and said I slept.

The wisdom in knowing and the discipline in doing are poles apart.  Mom, is my guru, she gets up and does. The 2-3 things that make sense to her are done day in and day out, and the rest matters little because unlike me and lots of others she lives her life from direct experience.

I know you have ur own practice. The one thing, something that you do. I have known sworn skeptics who found this trace of peace in chanting with a mala, or simply stretching the body out, in breathing with consciousness, or maybe meditating.

 Whatever the form or format, I believe we each have a way of connecting with us that works for us. That does not involve external substances or crutches.  For me its time to return there, to thank it for getting me here, and for remembering the silence that is epic to all this drama.

Om shanti shanti shanthihi

Flooded

I trudged up the stairs to P's house, feeling excited. Tired but excited. The morning meetings had gone well and the wait for the freelance thing to take shape seemed to be getting towards the finish line.

But exhaustion seemed to fill the bones, I was feeling heavy, exhausted and ready to drop. The feet were dragging across the remaining steps as I fell into a heap on the closest chair... it was hot. the hottest Bangalore has been for a while. The sun and the rain making it even more humid.

P sat crosslegged on the couch as we updated each other on the events of the past day. She yawned complaining of a fatigue she could not shake off.. Afternoon lethargy filled the room and even gazing at all the very VIVID ART, the viciously pink lotus flower, the nest of the Bumble bee, the snails crawling in the lotus tub did nothing to get the yawns to be dispelled.....

Hrrrmph some days were meant to be this way, we said as we sat down on the rug with the white flip charts waiting expectantly at us to be filled with elaborate designs and frameworks... and thats when the magic started......

the clouds gathered together for a round table conference, thunder made his presence felt by thumping the table and a looooow growl escaped the sky. The plants stirred them selves awake as the sun ran whimpering like the intruding dog,. and the overcast sky shook in glee.

The she arrived. And arrived in style.

Rain sashayed down the ground, sining and sweeping away all the tiredness off, she roared her presence into ur ears as P and I lept from the rug to witness the drama. The viciously pink lotus, did not survive the onslaught and the bee's nest clung on with its entire strength.

It kept raining. Water filled up in the veranda, 1 inch, 2 inches and soon we would have been able to sail mini boats. So engrossed were we that we did not notice an intruder in the house creeping around. Sneaky little rain had managed a perfect decoy.

Keeping us engrossed with the nest and the lotus and the rest of it, we did not notice her silent claim on the house. To our horror the house was full of water, the rugs, the carpets, below the sofa, above the well laid door mats water was dancing a merry dance...

hahahahaaa...., that took care of any tiredness in our bones. For the remainder of the hour, buckets, mops, bottles, hands, brooms, mugs anything and everything was used to get the water drained. P and I sang merry songs, chucking at the how hard we were working..

Of course the electricity went off. and the inverter breathed its last breath.

Of course we still worked, sitting around candles P and I sat and designed our workshop. Wet hair dripping on the white flip charts, flickering candle light, bowls of halidram bhujia keeping us munching and lemon tea for company we giggled like school girls while keeping a corner of our eye on the toddler rain...

hmmm this is work for me. Madness, conversation, floor mats and rugs, hot chai, hurried interruptions and wailing phones.. I like ;-)

Y do I write

In the past week two people have asked me why I write this blog on a daily basis? Is it a combination of 

• self obsession, or
• a personal diary, or
• a way to get attention

The personal sharing on a forum as public as this, has raised queries about the rationale behind this sharing. They wondered given that there is an audience, is one writing for one self, or for the others or writing to be read? What and where does it stem from?

Someone even said, that the drama in life was universes way of making sure i had enough fodder for the blog.. hahaa tat is a refreshing way of looking at it. 

Made me think. 

This writing started on a pure whim. A result of seeing Julie and Julia one day and wanting to do a one thing everyday kind of writing. There is a deeper lining to it that keeps the fires going. In fact has come to the stage that if I dont post something, it makes the day have an incomplete touch to it. 

So what then is the motivation to write. and perhaps a more critical question to ask is how honest is this writing, simply put how much is written for the audience, how much for me, and how much a mindless stream of words pouring itself out. 

Reasons to write in are simple. For a year want to record 1 thing, something that touched you that day. Its kinda like creating a memory bank. But I would be lying if i said that this was a honest space for that. For very often there is a rather delicate fencing game that dictates the content of this post. 

On one hand is the idea to record the BESTEST moment of the day. This battles with the desire to be sensitive to the needs of the other people whose life intertwines with mine and not make them public figures since they did not sign up for that when they met me. This battle is fought on the ground on keeping private some moments and sharing some, yet for any of this to me meaningful, to me if to noone else it is imperative that the memories be stored and recorded without any layers of added on varnish. 

Rather complex it sounds when stated like that. 

Made me also wonder for the first time, what impression of me would someone form if they were to only read these blogs. For those who know me in person and then read, the story is different. For those who don't and read only these entries, the perception of me may be very real or very removed from reality. 

AND I DONT WANT TO KNOW WHAT THAT IS! 

I really really don't. As a child for the longest time, I was addicted to Enid Blyton. I read everything she wrote, each book was poured over with intensity, yet 9 year old me was happy in the knowledge that she was a  he. For that matter, my new favourite author is Murakami. He is as reclusive a man as can be, with his last public appearance 4 years ago. His books dont say much about him, yet in each readers mind there is a mental image that is formed of who he is, what he thinks, how he looks... so vivid is the writing that the image is crystal clear. Reality only tarnishes the image to make it mundane. 

Anonymous. 

Anonymous interactions permits for the truer us to surface a lot faster than real interactions. The prejudice of knowing how the other person reacts is missing, and one can be. 

Have a friend. hahahaaa, not sure if it can be called that "friend" given I cant reach him minus the window of a Yahoo screen. We have never met or spoken. We dont want to meet or speak. Yet we are storehouses of each others secrets because there is an open sharing that is allowed ONLY BECAUSE, we are never going to cross paths. 

What is the drivel directed towards. 

Simple truths, that I write for me. To record a bit of my thoughts and list them down. I also tweak the content to make sure that the juciest sauciest tales are mine to savour. So there is a perception management done, albeit under the pretense of protecting my immediate circle of friends and family, but if truth be told it is to protect myself from censure, judgement and critique from persons who get to see only a slice of me. This slice. 

There is nothing called pure honesty. Except maybe for the wailing of a 1 day old baby. Everything else is a manipulation. live with it

inspired and how

WHEW! this is what days like today seem to leave me. A giant wow there is so much that there is to do and more than that there are so many people who are already doing so much.

The last line at the end of the meeting was with a fairly interesting, serial restless entrepreneur called Akshay Cherian just made.. the people working at interesting places, often have interesting personal tales of their own.

Slept to the news that one of my most fav persons in the world was leaving the city, for a short time..... hate these sudden trips that people have to make. The maid moaned over my stitches, but promised to nurse me into health.. 

As I logged on to the virtual world, the day of adventures and encounters began unfolding bit by bit. Wicked boy and me happened to connect online, and chatted about the what was happening. The city of Kolkatta was viewed for the immense energy and restless hyper spirit that it had laid dormant and concealed behind the confinement of humidity and sweat. There is something about that city, which after Mumbai forces you to react. You have to love it or hate, you cant choose to remain neutral to it. Benign n Kal are not words that go together.....

the post MBA recovery has begun, with the idea to launch ones own business practice. Time to garner resources and make myself visible with a business idea, use my strengths of connecting people to launch a legal set up of my own. For this the ground work started today itself and realized the immense potential with each lawyer charging their own sweet range of prices for basic services. Have always maintained that docs and lawyers can get away with murder, because there is no regulation on what they can or cannot do.. I being on the other side of the profession should not be complaining..

Post nursing the wound over a lazy cold coffee breakfast, reading online crap and lamenting the obsession with money, IPL and Sashi the black congress sheep I headed for some real action.

Encounter 2. 

BTW-  the most valuable thing that the accident seems to have taught me is the ability to slow down for speed breakers. The few times that i dont, the thump the head gets with the landing of the car, ensures the next time a point is made to hit gear 1. ...

So met interesting lady.  lets call her Grassroots. NGO types, she began her career working with the regular corporates, wanted to do grass roots and headed of all places to rural Orissa. Her dads NGO offered her the chance to work 7 days a week, to handle issues and solve real problems of water, sanitation, health etc etc etc.. Having reached saturation level, a Masters in Dublin was secured and peace made with a UN international pampering development job.. but it wasnt to be, After real impact, masturbating conversations leave no mark and so she gave it up to return to Blore and work for D-a - D

This is where i met her, at a creative thinking workshop orgn by N and D from the states. Sweethearts of a training pair they lead several NGO principals and teachers into sessions on free thinking. The one i attended was so interestingly strung together. 

They asked us to think of a metaphor of how we viewed our life. Any 7 to 8 word phrase.. Mine was "a backpacker collecting experiences"    each persons metaphor got listed on a white board, and was sung out like a song. Thereafter, in groups of 4 we choose a metaphor from the list and without over thinking we just wrote and wrote and wrote non stop for 5 minutes whatsoever came to our mind.. Damm interesting, From a "i am a lamp that brings light" (yawn yawn i know) my brain hooked onto the role that candles play as imagery in bollywood movies.

It did not end there, each person took they fav sentences from the 5 min of uninhibited stream, selected 2 sentences, wrote those out, the group sentences were to be then rearranged to form a poem and the poem was then to be bought to life!! WHEW!!!! what an idea. 

However, interesting the session was the business minded cynic in me was left feeling jaded. Felt like a feel good session with little practical value. Maybe have become too cynical or too stream lined. Caught myself coming across as a stuck up little show me the practical side of this kinda bitch, which was never the way i normally reacted to these "lets just explore this" kind of workshops.   

Anyway exhausted by the play and the rest of it, left to enjoy the rain from the shelter of the car. A woven head is a deterrent to Rain Dances.. That is wen i met RD... a close friend who had not been met for over a year. We discussed the miraculous recovery of Daily bread, which from a super loss making entity at Britannia had recovered its losses and made 2 the loss amount as revenue. For a 12 month period, this recovery in a business as perishable as confectionery is remarkable

Hmmmmmmmmmm the day was still far from over. Headed to office and conversation with P, thats when AC n his team came over........... 5 ppl, young  passionate and audacious, with the intent of placing all the graduates that have been rejected several times over by companies a job. 

Success rate -- 94% 

How? 

Simple business model. Take rejected applicants, make them go through a 7 day scientific English communication module. send them to a call center, basis scores and vala they are done... ;-) of course its not that simple and challenges remain... but for me the ZEAL of these qualified ppl to work was exemplary....

Got me thinking where does practicality end and passion begin, where one dot end n the other begin where does one idea become a plan and when is it time to stop, what are u in all of this.......... I agree that on days like these there may be a traces of intellectual masturbation added to it, are nevertheless days that make u smile for the experience that they add.. but am becoming a cynic am unable to appreciate passion unless there is a financial stability factored in for as well.. Maybe i am maturing as a person. maybe i am degenerating and being unable to enjoy the simpleness of life. 

Dont know. Maybe it does not matter...........

To add to this all is the new butterfly mode in belly of waiting for someone to call etc etc.. refreshingly new!

martian

A stitched head makes u feel a bit like a space alien as u feel that u have a wobbly head that is being balanced on mere bamboo sticks.

P is back from SA! and there is excellent news on the work front, new gigs and projects, a new surge of energy.

Have my fingers crossed that there is newness in the air, projects should be closed and hopefully progress made..on a completely unrelated note what makes Sarah Jessica Parker so stylish?

and i hate KUWAIT! ;-(

Blonde episode 34

As we devoured the bestest made eggs and leftover pizza, a make shift plan to strap ourselves onto enfields and drive out to just feel the joy of the road was hatched. Google maps consulted, and friends called to join in.. each person having alternate plans or life realities to deal with, refused to join. 

Undettered, 2 bikes, 2 men and 1 blondie decided to hit the road and feel a bit like birds. 

Till adventure began hitting us like rain pellets. For starters bike one refused to start and had to be cajoled to return to life for 10 minutes, problem over we cruised down the swankiest and richest area of the city, only for a pigeon to shoot her well stored poop straight onto my shoulder. 

thanking  the dear one, we proceeded for incident 2. Reaching just in time. 

To make more sense of this post u need some context. Bike 1 is being driven by Red Lordship, a european version of shantaram and Bike 2 is being driven by Mr Cool Cucumber, another european version of clint eastwood kind of passive coolness to him. 

Blondie as usual is getting undue attention for (i) being indian girl behind white man (ii) wearing flaming red (iii) flaming red t shirt ending in straps on shoulders leaving the guaranteed to get u looked at shoulders.... 

So incident 2. Bikers see round about., bikers navigate round about. Alto car decides to head straight into the round about. Bikers and Alto come face to face, with a few inches of space left. Alto human growls at Biker 1, Biker 1 growls back. Alto decides to change growl to bark and releases his hold on the grip and inches to hit the bike!! Bikers howl protest and make yell in anger at being bumped of the road. 

Raised fists and slogans discharged, yet one more regular indian road experience is gathered and we move on.

Given that I am normally sitting in the sterile environment of a car, the thrill of being on a bike is LIBERATING. the wind plays with ur hair, you feel the pulse of the traffic, and manage to zig zag your way through anything at all. It opens up the world for you and somehow you just feel alive, very very alive....

There are impromtu races that are entered into just with the vroom of an engine. Arun, the cocky little RX 100 biker, challenged the might of the bullet over and over again, swerving, overtaking, and doing a little bird dance with every rush. The bullet let him be having his share of the glory. Only much much later, the giant tired by the antics of the teenage juvennile, kicked in his heels and took off, with complete nonchalance leaving the RX to choke while keeping up. Man war over, they grin at each other before giving the thumbs up sign and zooming off..............

anyway, the road finally opens up letting us kiss the road and feel the breeze. The sun relents and the place shows us its magnificence. There are rocks piled on each other remaining suspended their just to piss gravity off. Vistas of green, the filtering in suns rays and the thrill of being a part of it all sitting on the bikes.. The quietness of nature just cleaned us out of all restlessness that the week had deposited day after day. 

Sadly, we could not stay for long as the setting sun meant we had to navigate our way back in the night sky. This is wen the best incident of all waited, lurking for the shadow of the night to appear before pouncing on us.

As we drove along cruising to enjoy the breeze there was no need to speed, just the wind watering our eyes and the traffic ploughing holes in our soul. 

We drove, maneuvered to the right, saw u ambling jet black buffaloes contentedly chewing their cud, before they got taken from behind in the worst way possible by a fat assed bullet. 

Next thing that we knew, Red Devil, Red T shirt Blondie and the bike were on the road, while the cows continued to meander off into their own little world...Blondie fainted and RD dragged her off the road, went back for the bike and returned to thankfully see Blondie on her feet.... looking surprised at the world in general. 

This is when I decided to investigate why my neck felt sticky. Touching my neck, my fingers returned wet with blood. Hmmmm this is now confession time, whenever i see blood, yours, mine, a rabbits, sheeps anyones i do the only blondie thing there is to do .. i faint! 

Seeing my bloody fingers i lurch towards Red devil, support myself against him as i proceed to gracefully slide ever so slowly and faint collapsing on the road. 

Dont know what length of time elapsed. Was dreaming blissfully, but the next thing i knew was that there someone was wiping my face, and lots of faces hovered over mine..... Opening my mouth, i protested at having been woken up from my slumber and demanded i be permitted to sleep again!!!!!

LORD! Well needless to say some wishes are not worth any respect. Was helped to my feet, strapped onto a bike and driven to a hospital. 1 cat scan, 1 head bath to wash someone of the blood off from the hair and 7 stiches later was fit enough to hit the bed and sleep off..........

Hmmm but incident 3 notwithstanding, this remains one of the best weekends that Blondie had. Simply lovely

retarded smiles

Hmm..... the retarded smiles are coming back to life. Not sure i want to write anything about it yet, so am going to only say that I have a goofy non erasable grin on my face and that is well pretty darn amazing! ;-) ;-)

Oh come on stop getting all the freaking gossip from my life, its personal damm it. All right wait a week and am sure i shall be surging with non erasable energy to spill the beans in any case.

So anyway, recovery time is here and new plans are to be hatched. Mission- Make the MBA fees by the year 2013- doing stuff that makes sense to me. Its a tall order, but tall orders are the one that are worth chasing in life in any case....

• Am getting to become an entrepreneur, that is the plan. 
• And get my own business to flourish .. haha if i can get myself organised, sorted, disciplined, professional and non blonde there are chances that it might actually end up working...

and well have nothing more than that as of now as a action plan, bummer! 

For now there are simple goals that shall take me to July and then once there shall revisit the plan. 

• Get an office space
• Get freelance legal kick started - proper like with a website and tie ups and the works, get the startup networking going etc etc
• look like a sex bomb for the wedding! and a hippie in ladhak

Simple goals sets that are attainable. ;-)

start the yoga.. lord i am sounding bored of my own voice.. get to learn how to ride the bullet.. that sounds more fun now does it not! ;-) 

and then and then and then?

I think I am the only one fascinated by the fact that there is a volcano that is erupting! Agreed no travel plans of mine have been hacked or rather ashed. And am not standing in ques that snake through the airport waiting for someone somewhere to tell me what next.....

But its volcano. Its natures most dramatic act, when she spews shit up and essentially gargles and spits like we Indians do all over the roads. The only difference is that she is HUGE!

The ash and glass particles that are coming out have FLOWN 8-11 kms into the sky creating a ashed zone! The power of thrust to send something that dense to that height is immense. All the newspapers are covering is the impact of the ash hitting the sky, the fact that international flights have been grounded but the fury the sheer audacity of the volcano in the first place has been all but ignored.....

There is a new fissure about 2 kilometers long that has been created

Rivers have risen  by over 10 feet, we dont even have swimming pools that deep here.
all this after about 200 years of being dormant and patient, talk about new levels of hibernation
the locals reported rivers of water streaming down stripping everything in its wake.

Its a glacier! its a volcano! its both... and its here.

Maybe we should have payed more attention to the whole American doomsday movies huh?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f1ztg0wUqKY

Check out the ASH being THROWN into the sky!!

April 16 2012

I switch off the light of the porch, as i whistle for Machku to stop messing with the poppies that are struggling to survive in the slightly chilly night and come in. She gallops back to the house, rolling her tongue as she looks sheepishly at the flower end sticking out of her ear.

Laughing at her antics, I open the door and watch her bound up the stairs heading straight to the one place she is not supposed to be going too. Standing in the living room, I rub my arms feeling the breeze caressing my goose bumps from their hidden spots. Stepping down the three stairs, I reach my favorite spot in the house, the cozy arm chair with the warm reading light, that seems to bekon to me to curl in and read. 

My eyes linger longingly at the half open book, carelessly tossed on the side table, the still warm coffee mug that promises nirvana and the characters beckon me to return. Its a Manju Kapoor book, her latest was giggling like a school girl when i bought it at the bookstore just this morning and groaning like a pregnant women with desperate food cravings as she described, Veda the protagonist gulping Puchkas on the street and savoring Bhel puri while withstanding the Kolkatta rains. Missed home then acutely, getting transported into the gullies of Kolkatta... to the everlasting summer vacations and walks that centered around the location and proximity of the snack stalls. Shit, I could kill to eat some of that spicy tangy unhygenic roadside nonsense right now. The supermarket, sterile version of the packaged yellow thing seemed like a apology that Sydney was trying to make for depriving me........

CRASH........... and a whimpering bark. Ohhhhhhh no! She has done it again!

Bhelpuri forgotten in seconds, I stop my time travel to rush half yelling half dreading the scene i can only anticipate awaits me. Pausing at the open kitchen table, for a the ever so useful tissue box, i head up the wodden staircase, without registering the tiny photographs that litter the walls, or the mirror that had never been set straight after the afternoons mock debacle....

Yup. thought as much. Machku dear at her best. Trying hard to conceal my smile, i watched her trying to squirm below the crib, pretending to be invisible. She knew she was in trouble and her defense was to feign ignorance.. What me? Like really you think I woke up little Kabir? Come on you really think i was hovering around the crib trying to steal a stolen moment of intimacy? lick a baby .. and me! NEVER!!!............

Thankfully, chottu Kabir was still to groggy to care. Whimpering a false note or two of protest he gave me a "its ok mom" relax kinda yawn and decided to return to his little world of fairy tale dreams. 

Unable to resist, i sat down next to Machku and lay my head on her belly. Surprised at this turn of events, she happily licked my hand before flattening out on the floor. We both sat there, watching Kabu babies face, register the emotions of his dreams. 

I watched the eye lashes, crinkle and the forehead crease. as he battled the baby hippo in his sleep, wearing his favorite ninja pants... saw his fists pump the air , and his baby fingers open up .. i slipped my finger in and he grasped it tight. so tight before collapsing his fist back on his chest.. Guess the baby Hippo had been sent packing to wherever he came from. 

Like 2 old wives Machku and me sat peacefully, breathing in sync content at the warmth the little room seemed to create.. for what seemed like aeons. 

Feeling hungry, i realize its already quarter past eight. Time seemed to have flown this Saturday what with the morning yoga studio session, the lazy breakfast with Kabu eating little bites of apple for the first time, to the applause of the sparrows and Machku managing to topple Nandu the turtle down the stairs. Husband dear had to make an emergency and trip to the vet to ensure that Nandu had not broken any bones. 

The best part was sitting in the upstairs swing, him and me, just talking trivia. Hanging out! kidding around at who had won the fastest " i can get him to sleep in minutes competition", discussing the location for the dinner and the HUGE surprise that i had planned for him,. speaking of which!

Fuck i am so screwed.. dragging machku from her own hippo dreams, i raced downstairs and furiously began preparing for the surprise. Sheesh, i hope his tennis game goes on till the third set and i get some more time. 

Pulling packets, tearing up the seasoning dinner is a quick gobbling session. Its food and lots of it thats needed to make sure he does not faint. as he keeps insisting that tennis shall make him do.. Sala Drama king. Shoving everything in the microwave, I hide the Manju Kapoor to ensure first readers rights and hop into the shower, much to the disgust of the silly dog.

Whew! almost done. 2 min to 8.30 pm and am set. ........ perfect timing.. missy ! the car swings in, the garage door creaks open, as the remote manages to get it act together and i hear laughter as he walks in through the door chattering non stop about his finest forehand that killed Mr. Showoffs game....

shaking my head, i watch my retarded grin spread all over my face, as i am engulfed in a bear hug, while listening to the magical strokes that did Mr. showoff in. Uff this man, this boy, this Goose of a character.. this pathetically crazy about life mad hatter.. who in the world did we end up here? and why in gods name did it take us so long?

i nestle into him, tuning into the conversation that is being bombarded into my ears, realizing it is now all FICTION.. Kill bill type razor strokes.. Like Really!.. I nip his chest and giggle as he yelps into the phone staring at me in mock horror... ASS!! Shut up and hang up will u............. and he does. 

Disconnecting with the world and connecting home. All his love all his energy felt in his warm embrace, his soft eyes as he wrestles the wet towel out of Machkus mouth, only to be flattened against the floor.. haha somethings never change.......

(dream? reality? me 2 years from now? yes/no? France? Sydney? Possible? who knows.......but the bones say this was real...it was.........)