reflecting on me

I am tired.

Feels like a long week has elapsed and that a lot has happened. Though when I look back I cant say what. Am annoyed at the health or the non healthy habits that I seem to be living with; quite contrary to what should be the way of doing things.

Havnt written in two days…..not sure why. Am feeling apprehension, and fear.  Fear maybe a strong word but feel like am standing on the tip of a slope on a sledge, you know you are going to be going for the ride, you know you want to, infact choose it and yet there is this tumbling in the belly.

Think it is work related.

There is excitement about what we are doing, dread of failure and am I capable, excitement at biting into a substantial pie, and stability.

Maybe I am bullshitting.

Think the last bit of letting go is happening, letting go of the childlike me. Time to build the savings and depth.

Had asked myself a question a few weeks back; if there were 2 forks on the road one that was the traveler explorer road about being on the road and gathering experiences/memories. And the other pointed towards the road of work and commitment which one would I choose. That day I was not sure.

Today I am.

I will choose the routine of work. That lets me travel. Shocks me to write that, reason being that I truly believe that ones needs to “deserve” travel.  One needs to have done something hard, meaningful and when that is over the appreciation for the free flowing floating life that travel offers. The appreciation is much more.

I am going to pack the back pack. And get the corporate suitcase out.

Time for me to unleash the potential that is there in me instead of squandering it- happiness is not equated to being kiddish.

Lessons for the day. 

vistas of experience

Monday, I sat in the visa office. Grumbling about the mass of people, the lines, the slowness, the tardiness. You get the mood, sitting on a stiff chair at 8 am after being frisked, mobile taken and bags dumped is a definitive mood buster.. and did I emphasize that this was on a MONDAY MORNING!

Grouchily, I sat there and for lack of better things to do observed each candidate who came and trembled before the glass screen, hoping that their answers would be convincing enough to pass the unuttered exam.

Person 1- Delhi babu

Short and stocky, jeans with chappals, a white shirt untucked, the jaws chewing on an invisible chewing gum, the missing gold chain aside the puffy cheeks and jowls certified that he had grown up in the lanes of a Gaffar market and had learnt about the powers of his invincibility – talking down to others and cockiness power.

Grammatically correct English, jostled with a “ cant u read the papers you dumb women” attitude while retorting to the ladies questions … He was so smug that he actually gazed back at the rest of us lower mortals who were still confined to the chair. It was hilarious.

Candidate 2- Friend of Delhi Babu

Walking advertisement of united colours of Benetton.

Dressed in – Benetton T shirt. Benetton Bag, Benetton jeans with the logo in BOLD EMBROIDERY across each ass cheek, and in case you did not get that he liked that brand. Benetton Slippers. ;-)

He was the meek, madam please don’t chew me up, I shall do whatever you want me to.. So nervous was he that he dropped his bag twice when the additional documents were being called for. The benettonj swagger not helping to charm the german authorities.. hahahaaa

Candidate 3- Women in Burkha

Was fascinated by her, covered from head to toe she had to bravely face the wrath of the german counter women, who was asking her all sorts of personal details about her man, his job, his income, letters, signatures, documents, dates. Insurance, she stood there, fumbling muttering, her safety pin firmly fixing her burkha in place ensuring that her respect remained intact

Wished for her to get the visa.

Wished for her to not get the visa

Wondered where and what would happen to her when she went to live there

Willed her to move, break free and be independent

Willed her to stay back, with home and warmth

Wished her release, but from what and to what I could not say

She made me smile. Like a bird on the edge of the cage, hesitant to move either way.

Candidate 4-5

Where there to attend the training, loose pants and the floater slippers indicated their hesitation in convincing them that they were legitimate employees.. they seemed the curd rice dinner and a rasam comfort zone people. They seemed that they were scared. They would be the invisible men on the German streets, but then again arnt we all invisible all the time

Candidate 6

She was the cutest, short and frail, smart trousers with a red bag, eyes lined with worry she whispered agitatedly to me how the fat bald man at the counter was so rude, in how he just barged in without paying heed to the que. She was going there to meet her daughter, and sat there with her knuckles white from holding the papers pressed so tight.

Aww if other than me I wanted someone to get the form, it would be her.

Been blog lazy, or blog averse or both

First because the weekend was a loungy sleepy affair with lingering meals, cake smell in the air, puppy sir eating all inedible things, the anticipation of a visa, meeting old uncles and discovering the joys of 5 people sitting around a kitchen wondering how anything was getting cooked at all.

Community Cooking in any form is such a joy, with banter and conversation and everyone running amok when the onions are getting chopped. Meals made like that are almost not eaten because the cooking somehow fills your tummy, but there is so much deeper a connect to the food when you make it than when it has just appeared from somewhere…

When we were in the ashram, the rules of eating were simple.

Step one.- sit on the floor with everyone and wait to be served. No matter how starved you are, one was not to eat till every person had been served each dish that had been prepared.

This meant, that after getting up at 5 am, then the bhanjans, yoga, and all that when you were dying to gobble up anything in sight, you sat there and saw the food. 

EVEN THEN you could not eat! A old women would materialize and the hall would vibrate with chants of 

Hare Rama Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna Hare hare.,..

Hare Rama Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna Hare hare.,..

Hare Rama Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna Hare hare.,..

Hare Rama Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna Hare hare.,..

Chanting over, in pure silence the room would slowly commence the task of eating. The silent understanding being that each person had to chew the food atleast 50 times before swallowing. One of my best friends at the ashram was very particular about it too

Silently, she would put in a teeny bit of food. Sit straight away from the plate.

Chew, chew, chew, chew, chew, chew. Chew, chew, chew. Chew, chew,. Chew, chew, chew, chew, chew. Chew,…. And again chew. Chew, chew, chew. Chew,,, before swallowing.

After a few days, I made sure that I did not look at her till I had atleast gobbled half the food on my plate; because if I had, I would also have commenced chewing and becoming aware of the food, thinking of the potato, the farmer, the soil, mother earth, the water, evaporation, meditation, ideation and forgotten about eating the next bite.. So focused eating was my mantra.

But jokes aside, eating slowly and consciously makes so much difference to the manner of eating, You taste and smell. You chew and savour. A small plate of food lasts much longer and fills you faster.

Of course I ate two crackers while writing this post, none of them in the manner listed above. All said and done there is a lot that the food you eat says about you, the manner you eat in about how you grew up and there is something delightfully heart warming watching someone relish the food that they are eating,

To food the one thing we all cant do without

rumblings in the belly

I am tense, nervous tense. Not in a bad way but in a good way; there is nervouseness about the job, ability to perform, ability to negotiate terms, upcoming travel.

of more than that a feeling that i am floating, its all happening to me, for me in my life but am hovering above it.Need to get a grip, get a sense of me, return to silence and fitness, get a rhythm that works for the same, for now that is what i need to do

cant write more now, but shall come back to this space. today. i need to

fragile us

We are fragile. Very Fragile.
More than the cardboards that come with the fragile handle with care label; we should have them as labels on us.
a daily reminder of the fact that something anything anytime can snap the cord we call life.
and .......... Full Stop. its over.

Its tragic that we need accidents and tragedies to remind ourselves about it.
To value what we have everyday
to say that we care, even if i have fought the largest fight with someone
it does not take away the love that forms us.

when a tradegy strikes- so often all we are left with is
a feeling.. noooooo not yet, there is so much left to say, do and share
did not get the chance to tell u that  u made a difference
that u mattered
that i cared

the fact remains, that we are mortal.
for sure the spirit is immortal and all that
but in this form, in this role
the time we have is limited
and we wilt it off, worrying ceaselessly about
the future, perceptions, success, retirement plans
meeting bills, a better car or phone
how little they matter

got very scared about someone recently
and as the brain replayed a movie of memories
it was only the eyes, the laughter
the warmth of the moment
that was left.
all else everything else. zilched out

before the day engulfs me.
before the worries swoop down
i want to stop a while
and know that it is glorious to be
here ... alive
no matter what

snippets

Too much happened in the past 24 hours to devote one whole page too. Snippets it is. 

Was made to think and rethink and re-re-re-re think about the contents of this blog. The fact that this is a public forum and maybe I was in denial that I wrote for me; maybe the deeper truth was that I wrote for you. If getting read was not an incentive the blog was meaningless. I am still struggling with this concept. But choosing to park it for the now.

Ran around like a headless chicken- speaking of which always thought it was a cartoon/animation thing to depict a headless chicken running away. Turns out that in reality birds like turkeys and chickens if not struck unconscious before being beheaded actually run off minus the head. How incredibly strong is the desire for life in all species. Truly think that those who commit suicide are very cowardly and brave at the same time. The body wants to live and chooses life in any and all forms that it can come in.

Returning to the moot point- was chasing my own paper trail yesterday to get all the visa preperation done and the value of being a more organized person was never more apparent. I hate visas, and more than the documentation work, the environment of visa offices. No other place can make me feel like a more helpless bovine CATTLE than sitting with a tiny chit, waiting for the red box to call your number and then stand hoping like mad that the person does not believe you to be a desperate to immigrate cow. ..... and not to mention the 983455954535 scans of my anatomy.. It the closest feeling to entering jail. 

On a happier note, I am just back from the post office. Wrote letters today. Actual letters that are put in envelopes, sealed and stamped. Trooped down to the post office, asked for stamps and got the sweetest little Rajiv Gandhi ones for 5 rs and some green Gandhi ones for 20. The quaintness of it wanted to make me send letters to every person i could think off.... i love getting a letter, been a while since more than a bill came in that way

Unrelated but interesting observation. A few weeks ago the close circle of people were all in bubble land of rosy happiness. each of us seems to suddenly have been on a slippery slope. I like life, its every changing, keeps u second guessing all the time what may be around the corner

For now it is the gym that i have religiously skipped and now cant blame the visa ppl for treating me like a cow! BLAH!

fretting n fuming

Ended the day and started the day on a grumbling mumbling note. Two things were the trigger for this, one irritation at the pathetic house management and two on the thin line between privacy and transperancy.

There is one thing that i get a constant bereating for- from friends and family. That my SEIVE- of what is personal and non shareable is vast. This does two things- one happily within minutes of meeting someone, I can share my biggest worries without a qualm and not bat an eyelid when the reverse happens and two- i fail to then appreciate sometimes how i tend to drag others lives into the realm of pulic eye by spontatenous enthusiasm - 'Blondey does it again' are often glaring reminders of foot in mouth and/or spontaneous action.

Take this blog- it  is personally public

The fact that this blog for example is in my head a space for inner reflection and when i sit down in front of this window, it is akin to hitting a pause button and assessing what is on, what is not and what amongst the various issues of the day deserves some attention.

But there is a thin line that i draw, a filteration where i choose to not write or share about certain incidents or events, things that i hold close to me to be not read by everyone. The murky line is the - membrane between selecting these issues

what is sharable for me, may be very personal for someone else and what is private for me may be not sacred for someone else. Bloggers mostly choose to not mention friends, family and maintain that veil of privacy that is important. Bloggers choose to write about events, international relationships or opinions not about daily life.

Guess it also highlights what and why we write in the first place.
This blog started in January. Reason, for me to journey and record in writing the events of the year to create a space where i could at the end visit a "live memory bank" the fact that others came by and read or commented was an add on that I was not duly worried about.

Prima Facie- i wrote for me, not for an audience, resulting in a failry private emotive journal being displayed online. The moot question then that is raised is - Why a blog? the format begs for public readership and invasion in an uncontrolled manner.. keep a diary a notebook anything... but why this?

have no clear answer to that either. maybe it is the vanity of each writer to be read, no matter what the content. Like that of a photographer, to have his images seen n critiqued or of a film maker to get people to see your work. 

At another level, it is due to the primitive instict - where i dont have very many secrets about my everyday life that i feel the need to sheild. But given that we are social animals and each of our incidents/thoughts/events involve others, how much of this is mine alone? Simply put, each time i choose to share a personal story I am by default publicsing someone elses life a wee bit too.  

and that is not what they signed up for when they came in to be a part of my life.

It is a very intruging thought though. What are your levels of "privacy". While some people know and are happy to share with office colleagues details of life, some friends clearly draw a line at work/social relationships.

Or with family, what  and how much your family knows about ur rumblings? You may be in the same space and yet know very little about what is actually going on in anyones minds and hearts. Are u willing to listen? Do u want to know? Do you want to share.. and there is no one way to determine this.

This is what hit me the first time i left a job. I came in every day and sat there. Gave precious years of my life to it. Yet when you leave your existence - at least the work and the physical reality of u is erased in moments. What is left is only - the relationships u struck. The rest fades. And in my world - relationships are forged by openness. not walls

this is not a defence or a justification. More a reflection of why this little white box is something i have come to feel the NEED for. Not a whim anymore.

then what does one do

AB is a gifted caring and creative teacher. He has the knack of entering a childs brain, knowing what would work and getting that done. 

Teaching in Mumbai, entering his class is a treat. There are things like (extracts from a mail) ' number wall, my investment tracker, my behaviour tracker, my class mascot, my contracts made my kids, and the giving tree'

You read the above and you smile, because you can imagine the thrill of a class that even has the space for these little moments. I remember in class 3, must have been 8 years old, we did a little excercise where one had a paper pinned on their back and you had to write something nice on someones back. 

Was not a particularly creative thing to do,  but the paper remained with me for a long time..... or my class 2 teacher handed out little paper cards to each child at the end of the academic year and we memorised each word of the personal note she wrote their. 

AB i am convinced is that teacher for them. He is crafting memories that they shall write about as they jot down the memories of a CEO book someday. 

But that is not the point. AB for all his creatively, is facing a modern day Ravana/demon. The morning school teacher.  She has torn down, ripped and thrown in the dustbin each piece of art that has been made by them in front of them and gone to the extent of ridiculing him in class.

He meets 20 wailing visibly upset kids, who fail to see the problem. What can he say in that case? Jealously? Bullying? Power play? what does one do when there is an adult who insists on remaining the playground bully and the other adults are too weak to stand up?

Dont know what the right course of action is against a bully. To fight them is obvious but the question is HOW? What do you do when someone whom you have no authority over tramples you? Complain to somone or seek revenge or escape. We all would possible say revenge, but few know how.

Dont think i would know how to seek revenge... sometimes am too lazy and let karma do my dirty work. Flippancy aside. this is serious. a reflection of the mentors./teachers of the coming generation

The right to education bill has been passed. The changes mentioned are so vast so rampant that there is no clear side that one can take.. but irrespective of the outcome, there shall always be bullies that need to be set straight!

Coaching in Cochin

I would like to believe that I am a people person, but have been proved wrong. I am not.

This to me is news. Always felt that I was open, warm, trusting etc etc and had a genuine curiosity about people but cant then seem to explain the sense of apathy or as my ex boss put it "already always listening" that has seemed to step into me.

As we ambled down the streets of Cochin.. Mr. Original Gulf Returned Mallu friend- "MJ" humbled me by displaying a humblness that i have got accustomed to discarding. At every shop we went to, or to be more honest at the ones we lingered at, he sat and spoke to the person behind the counter.

The man behind the window selling tickets to enter the Dutch Palace, was not the man behind the window selling tickets. The conversation did not begin at

"Can I have 2 tickets please" and end at "thank u" but started by saying hi. ......a pause, a space for a conversation to start and the trascation to limp into the corner.  MJ's world is a world to immerse in, soak in the colours, enjoy the detailing in the pattern of raindrops of a speeding glass pane.

Thrill is not about speed but the intricacies observed while slowing down. While i clicked motion, movement he was riveted by rust and decay... the natural reabsorption of nature.

It was the first time that we were travelling together, and spending so much time. His pace allowed me to be still, soak in Cochin in the back lanes and not linger in the glossy touristy version that i knew till now. Lunch was savoured in a non descript Krishna Cafe, where the guests knew the exact seat that was theirs.

As we ate, we marveled at the nooks and corners that the place offered us. And his child like observation opened my gates. letting a lot of smaller moment s that would have otherwise passed me by..be caught.

to the pause. the amble
the life without a pace

thanks MJ for a day of leisure, came after a while

rewinding

Its one of those days when you are out of sorts, the day after the journey. When one comes back and the rush of experiences of the holiday are vivid, the people and there lives still leaving an impact and one looks desperately for novelty in the daily life and finds none.

that is the beauty of getting out and seeing some of the world. In minutes it shows you the vastness of the world, and the endless ways to live life. Takes a while to limp back to injecting back the pulse of stress, and tension into the veins of the city life.

Take the case of some of the simple people i met in Cochin on day one. 

The kiteseller. I dont know his name, or even if he was the person making the kites. But i watched him sit still as he observed the world go by, patiently letting his wares flutter in the breeze. As i took this snap all he told me was that these kites were ordinary, I would find nicer ones along the road to photograph. There was no sense of urgency, a desire to sell me the kite or cajole from me anything. He knew he was allright, kite sale nothwitstanding. 

Lijjat aunty. She sat in the sun, her tools next to her, the dough whiteneing her hands as she rolled hundrends of these papaddams in a line. Each of them started as a tiny ball, was coaxed into shaped, powdered, stacked, re-rolled and then painstakingly seperated. In the middle of all this, she made coffee for her beedi smoking husband, sweetly spoke to the cat and was not in the least upset by strange women and her invasion. 

The man that impressed me the most was this one. The necklace maker. Have never seen a person so absorbed and intent on his task. A bhuddist monk would have been ashamed at the serenity of his task. Saw him on 2 seperate days, on the same seat, same needle and thread, different flowers same task. Each flower was to be tied into a delicate knot to weave a garland. For someones hair, god. car... who knew. But the depth of meaning he attached to it made me envious. 

As the last open lake lapped against the hull of my house boat. ..............  I wondered if peace and serenity of ones surroundings, makes the mind peaceful, or does one get used to the same. Knew there was no simple generic answer to this one, each person made his heaven or carved his hell irrespective of life. 

But however trivial it may seem, think the environment has a role. Kerala is green, gentle, laid back and peaceful. Delicateness, Greenness thrives as does laziness. As we crossed the border into Tamil Nadu, so thing subtle changed

The swaying greenery was replaced  by barren stretches of nothingness.. a certain indifference or detachment to the surroundings seemed to seep in. It was clear that people simply lived here, the sense of belonging was strangely missing....

YA Ba DA BA Dooooooooooo!!!

I looooooooooooooooooooooooooooveeeeeeeee  the way life is right now. The endless possibility list is growing and moving and growing and enlarging and i am caught in the midst of it all and doing it all more n more n more.

There is travel today
there is work to be done when i come
there are movies
and retail thereapy
there is a BIG Holiday coming up

There is so love.. the warm mushy kinds
there is rain and clouds
and in the middle of all this is me someone is taking me seriously ;-)

The course shall come my way and the paper work has been taken care of
seems like all is good
my gym instructor is not going to be agreeing to this is he
but hmm one pitfall is allowed na!

Imagine

Imagine there's no Heaven 
It's easy if you try 
No hell below us 
Above us only sky 
Imagine all the people 
Living for today 

Imagine there's no countries 
It isn't hard to do 
Nothing to kill or die for 
And no religion too 
Imagine all the people 
Living life in peace 

You may say that I'm a dreamer 
But I'm not the only one 
I hope someday you'll join us 
And the world will be as one 

Imagine no possessions 
I wonder if you can 
No need for greed or hunger 
A brotherhood of man 
Imagine all the people 
Sharing all the world 

You may say that I'm a dreamer 
But I'm not the only one 
I hope someday you'll join us 
And the world will live as one 

As I begin to commence the long documentation journey towards getting the visa papers ready and moving out of the country for a short time, i pause and wonder the simple joys of having a visa less balanced world where there would be no need to migrate from one place to the other. joy ;-)

Past life regressions

Older than anything known of, the concept of reincarnation has been around in the Indian landscape. Each family  has a story of reincarnation or a legend tucked away someplace.

Been an addict to the Brian Weiss (http://www.brianweiss.com/) series and more than that the belief that there was a circle of life. If there was truth to it, then the reason we were here was far simpler than we knew, there were a zillion interconnections, and each incident or person we were close to had a pattern that was being orchestrated by someone larger than us.

As fascinated as I am by it, M asked me recently as to why i had not got a session done for myself. Sat on the chair and found out about the past lives, the reason for this one.. or take a walk into the untapped memory of the  subconscious. 

I froze fr a minute. 

just knew that i had wondered but even though i normally leapt at all such courses was frozen

was scared

like something dark was looming there that i did not want to see or deal with, and dont know there source of this fear. Was an interesting thing to observe this fear of something that has elapsed, occurred and sits in a distant corner removed from me. 

But am a firm believer in past life connections, there is no other way for me to explain the depth of knowingness that comes when u meet some people and know that you know them. Its there and for me from my world of experiences it is real. 

a friend mentioned to me a baul festival that takes place in west bengal. these wandering monks converge to make music n live in a commune set up. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ezp2kpsXtyY) or maybe be a part of a sufi camp, a kind of inner wandering that is explorative but in a totally inert way.

Lord, think i run the risk of aging to become one of those aunty types, with a beady necklace, flappy clothes and super calm demeanor. That shall be a shame. Can i atleast spare the glasses?

obsessions

There are somethings I am simply obsessed about.My list of random things that I cant seem to stop doing

• Eating Puchkas/pani puris 
• its chronic, they have a magnetic pull and no matter what i cant seem to stop eating them to the extent of eating them in the rain.
• Stacking dirty dishes
• am lazy enough to not wash the dishes but pro-active enough to obsess about making sure that they are stacked in a very aligned manner, weird! i know
• Checking my gmail account all the time.
• Sadly profess that i get almost all horoscopes from god knows where all mindlessly read them all
• Chatting- or Gchat 
• Think i would die if i had to survive in a firewalled kind of a set up where the nonsense time killer sites were blocked. would not know how to open the door
• Planning 
• Long term, weekend, short term, 2 months, 1 months, 10 years, there are exhaustive big picture plans that are made, remade, dreamt of and more than not nothing happens about them but they come and can day dream about them.
• Weight management
• In my head even if i become negative 0, if there is such a thing i shall remain FAT! thats it there is nothing to be done.
• Worrying about landing up in JAIL
• Think that is the one reason that I became a lawyer, read too many crime novels and saw too many movies and of all fears this one is the largest, being caught up in one of the underworld scenes, ending up in jail and like Sunny Deol said waiting for Tariq, pe Tariq!!!!
• Stagnating
• If I have nit started something new, planned to start something new, created a major upheavel in life, moved jobs once in 12 months, moved in and out of places, cities or left the city once in atleast a quarter i choke and begin to see tattered spirits. Movement now now is the mantra
• Saintly Satanic Search
• Intellectually masturbating about spirituality and "reading" more than doing. Spiritual junkie 
• Mobile Mania
• Last thing checked before sleeping, first thing in the morning, Irrespective of anything.
• Feeding Guests
• Recently discovered that i have a genetic hostess streak, feel immensely guilty if i dont serve/make/pamper ppl with food if they were to come home
• Road mapping
• I agonize over the shortest route to take, this turn or that, that stop first or last, dont look the type but insist on planning routes all the time
• Brushing my teeth
• Has been known to happen over 10 times in a day. I love it. Dont know y
• Travelling
• Sit me on a bus, train, boat, anything that moves, destination matters not, room matters not and am a happy child. as simple as that. 

Am sure there are more, for now this is enough ;-)

stripped down series 3

On a lighter tone. Yesterday was a mellow day. 

Got to work, worked, drove back, had a mini accident, picked up the punctured tyre that had been repaired, ate puchkas, cursed my instructor, lamented the loss of the innocent days, drove home and then plonked on the bed and flipped between 2 shows.

The Runaway Bride and The moment of truth. 

The former made me think of what i mean when i say i love someone? we are very generic with the use of that phrase, but what does that actually even mean and translate into? I love you., its almost like a code word that can be used to cover up a deeper level of assessing what is really happening. If I took away those 3 words from the dictionary and asked you to share your feelings towards someone, it would take a much longer time to phrase even one sentence.

point being- in the movie, she is lost and unclear of who she is, and moulds herself to be the woman that man wants. after sometime it cant be sustained and she ultimately has to choose to sit herself down and identify who she is.

Got a mail after ages from AA. ........AA is not a women, she is an old soul wandering in a world of her own to close loops and enter endless self enquiry. She is relentless with peeling back layers and unmasking herself to her own eyes. Currently living tucked in a small village in France to teach yoga she has none of the bustle of the city life to hide her from her. 

The moment of truth- I love the show. Love how truth - basic fundamental truth is almost never ever shared in its stripped nakedness with the people we spend years with. and how in seconds .. 19 years of concealment is broken, questions thought of but never asked are uttered and answered. Always wondered.... if the utterances of these half hidden but definitely thought of desires.........almost always derail a relationship or can be sustained nonetheless. 

all i know is that i am too chicken to sit on that show!

stripped down series 2

Jungle 82 is sitting in Ivory Coast. Has a boss who is conventional and Indian. Lives in a company flat in the midst of other employees, each of them more often than not family men. 

He is young and hard working. Reveling in the freedom of being in a new place. an explorer from the inside, he has a host of non work friends a lot of whom come to stay with him. Seeing pretty young women flit in and out of the house on a daily basis has more than the work made the boss very uncomfortable and anxious enough to cause stress on both sides. 

In the end, the boss made a clear call. To continue being effective in the job the one thing he would have to curtail is his desire to host people and these visitors would not be allowed any more. Jungle 82 took a stance n has decided to maybe leave if that is the Diktat that is imposed.

Last April-May; the double standards of India came to bite me in the ass in quick successions. 

Step 1 - My boss was furious at me; because he felt that my perception management skills were appalling. How dare I being a women permit myself to be casual in an informal office party, no matter that all the senior bosses were busy rolling joints and smoking up. He went on to state that the fact that they smoked up was to be carefully concealed from clients - most of whom were Parents and would not tolerate the fact that he indulged in this habit. But as a women i should not DEF not be seen smoking 

Step 2- Lanlord dear had no issues with my MALE roomate co habiting with his gf, but I as a women was not permitted to have males staying over, so either i leave or make sure that i change my ways. 

Example 1, 2 and 3 are not being shared from a how dare they perspective but more as examples to showcase, how often the invisible and faceless term of Society steps in uninvited and commences controlling your life.

In your work days, your home, your city, where do u draw the line between how much u shall compromise and the barrier that is non negotiable. Where does it become violative of who you are? and when it does what are you going to do? Practicality or idealism.. who wins?

stripped down series 1

Starting this post for the third time. Feeling agitated today, been a slow traffic day and am missing a sense of urgency about what, where, etc. at the same time am feeling a sense of calmness about here and now. Think its the chronic need of having or missing a larger plan and feeling agitation each time someone else is making the leap.

Todays source of angst came from 2 very unexpected sources, one a family member is settling down in new york for a year and the other a even less worthy source. an ex colleague of mine someone younger from the law days has sorted and positioned himself him well enough to get the nest egg and the fancy gadgets.

So to distill it a level below 

There are two fundamentals greviances that are conflicting and yet both sitting inside me pulling me in opposing directions. 

1. the desire to stabalise- n grow roots in one thing, give it time learn depth and not surface, get a nest egg of money some savings some structure to it and move from there. This is a deep desire to get EXCELLENTO in one core sector.

2. The other equally strong and conflicting desire is to be YOUNG and travel. Needless to say the above feeds into the latter, and need to set a time line to be able to see the long list of places that otherwise sit in the oneday someday bucket. 

Need to do more, be more see more, create more

Stressing myself too much at times i think

sometimes not. but where do i see my 5 years from now?

lets see 2015, I shall be 34 years old. 

• I def want to be a mother. Full stop. If nothing else happens this is the one thing that i want. 
• own a house, small/big does not matter, have it done up as a reflection of "us"
• "us" being the anchor, the man, nandu, paul, the little one, the wine cellar, the balcony and all this sitting in Australia
• I am teaching yoga, engaging in consulting with a international team located in Australia and juggling timelines
• I travel - short business trips and longer ones of self discovery, with Kabir my son. 
• Have completed vipasana, spent time with the Aborogines and nourished my soul with some healing

This is where i want to be, may sound too boring and not challenging for the now. but i think it reflects the deep core of what i want, Stable explorations. Contradictory statements or possible life choices can be whatever u want it to be. 

But the one thing is clear, for me relationships becomes a core. For today no matter how much the restlessness exists, or does not. Am going to stretch and learn, grow within the Indian space, to quench it than change the countries. Because am not un- anchoring the one thing that makes me feel like - home. everything else is a wave i ride. 

me

Blondie does it again

Am blonde

had a puncture while coming in to work

drove it with the puncture to a tyre shop

man turned out to be only a 2 wheeler repair guy and refused to deal with the car

disgusted with his attitude, i decided to be the MAN

took out the jack, the wheel spanner

and decided to do the needful myself

placed the jack n the little thing that makes it go round n round

it did not move

asked a friend to stand on it so it would be stable n rise

but of course, the moment she stepped on it, it could not rise

pulled my jeans up, bent on the road

needless to mention this is all happening in front of a motorcycle repair shop, full of men!

touched the bottom to find where, to place the jack

could not locate the point.....fuming placed it anywhere

n huffed n puffed to get the damm thing to move, it did, 5 inches then stubbornly refused to do anything more

Helpful friend suggested we get the puncture guy, 500 mts away

Ego hurt, i had no option but to agree. 

so we packed the car, left, got the guy

and he took all of 4 minutes to change the tyre

while i stood there brushing my hair

the list of things i dont know seems to be growing

maybe the ones that i do know, has a automatic learning curve? hope so!

phhhhheeewwww

Talk about having balls in the air. Let me tell you my life routine, the choice of which remains with me..but between being alone at home or maybe going to the gym or meeting little fur ball, man and the rest of the friends that are camping there, there is not much of a choice is there.

So here is the day; yesterday.

Get up at 7am, have idealistic plans of gng to the gym, pack a bag accordingly, get ready to leave by 8.30 am, drive like a mad women reach office; moan over electricity issues, go shopping for office n other supplies, evening sets in leave work by 6, decide to go cross country to see a movie i have not seen yet.

Reach only by 8, with marathon calls happening in between. Enter mad house, down wine and get ready for the movie. Repeat Inception, which made more sense the second time around. Skip Gym, Eat Junk. Bad Combination.

Resolve to leave the house come what may at 7 am. Play with the dog till 1 am. Restlessly stir at 5.50 am. Fight with dog to avoid a non existent nose. Laugh at dog, sleeping on his back tucked in the tiny crevice between pillow and bed.

Leave bed at 6. 12 am to get dog breakfast. Leave at 7.45 am to get paper. Resolve to leave in 15 minutes. Domestic house wife spirit takes over, make breakfast instead. Leave from house only at 9 am.

Drive. Drive. Drive. Drive. Drive. Drive. Drive.
Reach work at 10.33 am.
Boss dumps work and leaves for luncheon

I plan a Kerala trip, with back and forth conversations.
Tell Dad about man
Make a Friday concert plan
Order lunch
revert to emails
and now begin work

Wonder sometimes what i do with my time.
may today be simpler

office office

I am officially an office goes person now. Am writing this at 9 am in the morning sitting in front of my shut office, waiting for the super boss to appear to commence the work day;  which means that I have slept at an early hour, gotten up at 7 am had breakfast, the geyser worked, the maid came and was out of the house at 8.35 am.

If you are sitting in London or a USA reading it, you are going to read the post and say.. what how in the world is this anything to gloat about?? Given that everyone there is ready no matter what weather dictates at 6.30 am and is commencing the work day!

It’s a super idea to start the day early, get your morning attention to work wonders and then have the evening to do whatever you choose to do. The precious evenings are timings that shall not be played with.

Last night was superbly slow, loved lounging around the bed being home and getting back in the groove with a whole lot of people and what they have been upto. Liked the slowness of the day; Yet again today I find myself in a new start up.. waiting for the internet guy, the electrician, the kettle. Think I should make a photo album of the number of kettles I have seen, the visitng cards and email addresses that have been a part of my life over the years.

As I sipped coffee this morning, and read extracts of Wayne Dyer, some sayings came popping out. Things about thoughts being the only thing that are crucial; how you can never be lonely if you know how to spend time with yourself and etc.

The time to work with colleagues has come, liking the engagement and the little conversations, the new table and the new lights all these little things are nice..to a new journey may it commence now!

white sunglasses

Dont have a clue what I am going to write. But I think I have fallen in love with the IDEA of white framed 1960 sunglasses.

I dont know if you can picture the ones that i am talking about. Think 1960. very vintage.
An image of a women in a convertible, hair pulled in a scarf, with these huge sunglasses is what i am thinking of
immediate image is one of sophisticated coolness

like nothing can make them uncool
cant imagine them ever having patchy sweaty underarms
or doing something as "uncouth" as having to work for a living

their sole occupation shld be choosing the nail paint
and the handbag that goes with the shoes

The image on the left does not get the look i am aiming for

The HUGE problem in my blonde life is that i cannot seem to get this look. I would feel like a HUM BUG if i sported it

in my silly head somewhere u are allowed to be an owner of a white sunglass pair and be officially allowed to wear it only if you weigh 48 kilos and can balance the eiffel tower on your head without looking down at your toes even once, on 7 inch heels.

Since I cant seem to get my head or knees to perform the above i remain the proud owner of very black shades
These are the exact ones that i saw in Janpath
and DID NOT buy.. even though i adore the simple design
because the man refused to agree to the bargain price i wanted
and since i refused to buy before a bargain..
the stubborn blonde mule me lost out!!

but then i got a pair as a surprise gift ;-0 ;-0
things always happens for a reason!
just have the time
to wait n watch! .....i am waiting for my balancing feat to come my way ;0