Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Opening up to life

A lizard just fell on me. Literally. A real one. I yelled and didnt even want to flick it, as flicking it would have meant touching it.. eeeeww!

not the point of this blog post though. Stepping into office, there was an interesting thought that emerged. A pal is having a moment of crisis and is in a job that she detests, cant do hates. What it does give her is wealth but little else. 

As we chatted, the idea of taking a vacation emerged. Not the lets go to italy, and see the leaning tower of Pisa kind of a vacation but a break from your life. From a need to work for security, from being on a path of getting somewhere, doing something that will get you someplace, from validity and productivity. 

Its a notion that is very urban based. I am valued because I do. I earn. I generate. 

Spending time wisely has got intrinsically linked to generating something, creating something that shall take you ahead. Living on a linear time line. Diversions are frowned upon and welcome. Milestone chase warranted and appreciated. 

The idea of taking a sabbatical - not so original I admit came to mind. The trick to however, truly enjoying a sabbatical is to give your self license to be. Being free is a mindset. If a sabbatical becomes a next job hunt, where every conversation is laced with an hidden anxiety - will this lead to business, will I gain something from this, then lets admit it, its a job hunt and not a break. 

Il bel far niente (dolce far niente) – This Italian phrase translates as “the sweetness of doing nothing.

This was the term that Elizabeth aka Eat Pray Love, learnt to appreciate in Italy. Cynics, I can see the rolling eyes and the smug expression of yea well, what would the world be like if we all just sat with our legs on the table playing poker all night long. But its not about laziness. On the contrary, its about awareness.

Imagine this. You take a sum of money and gift it to yourself. This is money that you made/got and have permission to spend. Gift yourself time. Say a quarter of a year, not too little not too much. This is when it gets interesting, find yourself ways to spend the time meaningfully. 

The only things that you are not allowed to do is
  • see any form of TV/movies/serials/games or external entertainment that comes of a box as a way of killing time.
  • or find a job or other ways of SECURING the future 
  • or facebook. 
rest is ok. the intention is to get comfortable with the idea of uncertainty. Letting the cloak of security drop and still live the present.
Hmm. As I type out this sentence, there is a devlish smile that is playing in my face. In fact I think I am going to give myself a break just like this once I have say 50l in my account. Challenge the self/soul/mind to find things to do. Be comfortable in solitude.

Drumming my fingers on the table, thinking thinking of what is it that I would really really want to do/be/learn.

Getting the obvious ones out of the way first, would want to head to a shamanistic master in south america, and drink the brew that only he can give to you, to spend time in serious guided meditation at the Kailash. To learn a dance and a martial art form. Stillness. 

To travel with a exploration troupe, and write a series about it.. like the nat geo kind of a group. Would work in a clean animal farm and bring up a baby orangtutan. Study the science of human behaviour, throw myself into the world of interesting classes, where I can shamelessly blend art, painting, history, psychology, creative arts and writing, learn what the term impressionist really means, tag a photo journalist for a while, become a healer and learn how to skate. 

or simply take the trans altantic siberian train-- nah somehow that is a bit too long in a train

Just today, sat transfixed in an auto for 3 minutes, stared at the map of the asian continent. Beyond the topmost point of the Himalayas there was a world. Tibet a nation - a mystery. China a power a centary. Mongolia and the wind readers, Russia. Siberia. Japan. The span of land was immense. 

Each city with its own tales and experiences. Travel for travel sake can get dull. its tough work, takes courage and the ability to not stop. But a journey is different. Its not about wandering for the sake of being in motion but exploring for the sake of knowing. It slows you down.

If I could and I will. On my sabbatical I will wander inward, with the presence of people who do so. Explore the thousand ways of connecting that people have. 

A self given gift of a break. Love the concept.

Academia, Kill Bill and Fasting

What the heck do these three topics even have in common. Its a valid question, to which I do have a valid answer. 

Stepping into the portals of the National Gallery of Modern Art, there was a silent breath that I took. It seemed that I had stepped back into time, into a world where the thinkers, the academics and the activists had gathered together. Chappals with interestingly tumbled hair held in place by a hastily thrown pen, rubbed shoulders with the trouser clad man whose label did not boast of Allen Solly, but a Fab India. Pink  fought with the bright yellow for colours and SlRs were hastily thrust into the bags that at once were hip, smart yet non conventional

The crux world. The meeting point where the academic returned to the corporate. but did not get absorbed there, instead they sat a bit on the fringe connecting the government to the corporate to the non profit to themselves to the others and debated, discussed, taught and otherwise created hotly contested moments where new thought was getting created, channeled. 

Sitting there in my Wills Lifestyle trousers, and rather unbecoming shirt, i knew I should have gone the grunge earthy look. Never Mind. Gathering all the material handed out, I sat in a corner and read the profiles of the people. 

Profiles - hmm they have a way of making anyone sound like gods gift to mankind. Often it makes me want to sit next to the person, a cup of chai in hand and ask them with wide open eyes, how did all this happen, what made you leap from this to that, the randomer the profiles the wider the eyes. Reading one profile after the other a deep desire to go study & have oxford or something like that next to my name was there. 

Between diversity, and depth there is a debate that is ranging about the deeper journey that one should be a part of. Depth and diversity, in where it is applied may be an interesting twist to make the both come together. Where one travels doing the one thing that one is good at, while learning a lot of other things by the side. The now abused mantra of Steve jobs - Stay hungry stay foolish comes to mind.

Leaving the intellectuals at their discussions, I headed off to more materialistic events that made me happy. Wedding shopping and movies with pop corn by the side. Kill bill 2 was the entertainment of the night, and new respect for Uma Thurman and martial arts as a world emerged. 

Martial Arts, judo, karate, tai chi, kalari, chi gong, all seem to have a root in orientalism. The submissive discipline that it requires you master and be apt at may have something to do with it. Enough and more movies have been showcased with the wayward student being made to go through the grind and then emerge later to be talented, gifted and with senses alert.

Long time back a pal was getting to be profecient in Tai Chi. At a party, he was conversing with a girl, when someone to the side of him, someone out of his line of vision dropped a glass. As a reflex action, his pals hand popped out and held the glass. a action even he was surprised by.

Centering, withdrawing inwards and then pushing yourself to limits you didnt even know has been a method they repeatedly adopt. 

I failed.

Needed to fast for A DAY. A DAY! ok not even A DAY, could eat in the night, and that was such a tough thing to do. Drank water, juice the works and still food came and sat plonk in the middle of the brain refusing to budge no matter what else i entertained it with. Bugger him.

Eating at the end of the day, was a relief as half the mac donald burger killed any de tox that the body may have gone through. Food you are such joy.

Sunday was spent gorging on food. And unhealthy one at that. The laziness carried on to Monday and its only now. much much later that I can feel me stretching and acknowledging that work is about to happen!

Its my favourite kind of a day

Today is how a day should be. A friend is sitting on the couch having an afternoon beer, the dog is on the rug chewing his shoe. Hot lunch smells are simmering in through the kitchen and I am sitting with the laptop watching the virgin rain wipe clean the trees.

Its the kind of day when you want to sit on the couch curled and have a long conversation with a friend. slow down speed up, have a long bath and dance around in your towel singing snatches of songs that come and go at will.

Its a happy day.

Standing in front of my bookshelf the other day, was wondering what to read. The voice in the tummy has for long been asking me to sit, just sit on the yoga mat in the silence that lets things happen position. for an unknown reason have been deffering the same. The guilt intellect -  decided a comprise solution was the best idea lets read a book about life and its greater mysteries.

Neale Walsch, Conversations with God. Book 3 stood innocently on the shelf. Sharing space with a Wanye Dyer and snuggled next to a lame Daniel Steel. Picking up the book, i played the silly mind game that I like playing. Sitting with the book in my hand, I shut my eyes and asked the book to open to the page that I needed to learn from.

It did.

There were two messages that the book ended with. Belief in the fact that we are all one, and there is enough.

The moment you commence believing everyone in the same shoes, each one living their lives and doing things that they need to do. it also talked about the life choices that existed on other planets, one could of course choose to believe it or choose not to be a part of it. both are choices that are valid. If one chooses to believe that there is some other life out there, then it makes you wonder if they have a new way of life, a alternative belief system.

The book claims they do.

its a planet, where the other beings do what they truly love to do, each person believes that fulfilling each of their love the barter flows well, and there is enough for everyone to grow. There is no need to hold and constrict, no need to close but let go, no need to amass but share.

There is a great joy in sharing, AB a close friend in my view is the one person whom I know is living a highly evolved life, he has sub consciously plugged into the joy of giving. it has changed who he is, made him larger than himself, made him a doer, a creator and selfless in a manner that I see rarely around me.

For a day, for 2 its worth a try, living knowing that there is enough, that there are incredible life stories there that are existing, life stories that are possible because they took a chance, they flowed with life. Life responds to experiences. Routine sometimes causes a lull, a lull of repetition, that only leads to perfect weariness.

Was reading a book this morning. Had an extract about the Tibetian practice of begging. Buddhist monks as a practice are encouraged to beg, so are the sufis and the jains. The intention is that the act of begging created a link of need btw the person begging, and the person giving. The need fulfillment creates a bond between then that can clear the energy for them. Even if one was to disregard that, for a moment I pictured myself begging on the street. Asking. allowing for strange people to help me. It made me feel small. humilated. the mere thought was icky.

Yet it was a interesting notion. The asking minus ego, the not getting because you earned it, but getting because you deserve it. The act of being open to receive is perhaps tougher than the act of giving.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Exploding Typhoon

Yesterday was on of those days that did not start right or end right. The ending was in fact a whimper, which saw me sitting like a couch potato and not moving, I am doing a lot of the couch potato scene now days and havnt got a clue as to why. 

If I am seeing a lot of TV - it is usually an indication that there is not enough living that is being done. There must be more and the line from the most seen video of Steve Jobs comes to haunt me, " every morning i would look at myself in the mirror and ask myself, is what I am doing something that i love to do? then i would go ahead and do it" and if not then dont stop seeking 

Anyway, all that is a long drawn affair that takes a long time to determine. Coming back to yesterday.. for starters my shower began an unusual dance, it took the term 360 degree management and took it to another level. 

On opening the water source, water began to flow out from the taps, the shower and even that knob in between that decides if the water has to come from the shower or the tap. In a minute, it was like taking a shower in those fancy hotel loos, where the water comes and caresses one from all sides and directions.

Managed somehow, and was caught by the cook who mentioned her accident. a pane of glass hit her palm, and a cut resulted in a loss of unprecedented quantum of blood.  Blood makes me faint. Even the mention of a river of blood is enough to get me sick. running out from her phantom hands, I headed out.

office, work and waiting plumbers, resulted in needing to rush back home soon. But of course that could not be as there was a puncture waiting gleefully in the corner, with a big grin on its face. Huffing and panting I attempted to prove that I knew how to replace a tyre. 

didnt even know where to place the jack~~

Bummer. A sweet gentleman passing my, took pity and assisted the 2 men and 1 women trio in the tyre replacement. Thanking him sweetly, I drove off. The car drove off too, off the road that is. it spun out of control and there was a vibration that did not cease. The spare tyre was a bad cannon.

Needing cash, before repairing the tyre, headed to atm 1 - out of order. atm 2  ( a ten min drive and complex parking space later) - getting loaded with cash, not in use. Atm 3 - bingo.. all of 30min gone. Puncture shop 1 - closed for the day, puncture shop 2 - stopped puncture repairing, puncture shop 3- did not even get there.

Disaster lurked around the corner. 

Heading to the gym, after a week of a disciplined work out I stood on the scale. The scale moved and shuddered, headed and got stuck at a weight. The same weight I had entered the gym with. Hmm, never mind, there must be more muscle than fat in the body now. I mused. Heading to the in body assessment thing, i determined the bone mass vs the fat mass and all that nonsense. SAME

Eyes smarting with tears, upset at that which I was seeing i headed to the trainer who yelled for irregular hours, partying etc etc none of which were true. upset, deeply so, and everything seeming to come together I got up and left. just sad. tired and needing a happy day. a simple happy shining silly laughter of a day.

the feeling of not doing enough with life came back, the feeling of wanting more came back. and i sat there, just smarting. 

But then someone just shared with me a story of a donkey. 

One day a farmer's donkey fell down into a well. The animal cried piteously for hours as the farmer tried to figure out what to do.
Finally, he decided the animal was old, and the well needed to be covered up anyway; it just wasn't worth it to retrieve the donkey.
He invited all his neighbors to come over and help him. They all grabbed a shovel and began to shovel dirt into the well. At first, the donkey realized what was happening and cried horribly. Then, to everyone's amazement he quieted down.
A few shovel loads later, the farmer finally looked down the well. He was astonished at what he saw. With each shovel of dirt that hit his back, the donkey was doing something amazing. He would shake it off and take a step up.
As the farmer's neighbors continued to shovel dirt on top of the animal, he would shake it off and take a step up. Pretty soon, everyone was amazed as the donkey stepped up over the edge of the well and happily trotted off!
Life is going to shovel dirt on you, all kinds of dirt. The t rick to getting out of the well is to shake it off and take a step up. Each of our troubles is a steppingstone. We can get out of the deepest wells just by not stopping, never giving up! Shake it off and take a step up.
Remember the five simple rules to be happy:
Free your heart from hatred - Forgive.
Free your mind from worries - Most never happen.
Live simply and appreciate what you have.
Give more.
Expect less

NOW ...........

Enough of that crap . .. . The donkey later came back, and bit the farmer who had tried to bury him.
The gash from the bite got infected and the farmer eventually died in agony from septic shock.


When you do something wrong, and try to cover your ass, it always comes back to bite you.

so anyway, I know what I am doing wrong. I am not living enough and not doing enough. Not enough of the things that get me joy. And that is the wrong part of it all. wait less, do more. life shall flow, faster simpler and more of what you want shall come to u.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Living a Chocobar life.

I am brown. I live in a brown nation. Everyone around me is brown.
I date a white man.
This combination, is not mine alone. A few close friends are also part of an interracial coupling, where given the location of where we stay there is a tendency for the couple to stand out.

In delhi, there are a lot of non indian friends, who come in to work here and make India their base. They sometimes find a love interest in an Indian man. They too come under the inexplainable category called interracial couple.

Here are a few ugly truths about being an interracial couple in India. Starting from the being a women with a white man. The moment such a scenario is presented to the public, the immediate reaction seems to be from the people around that (i) its a passing thing, one of the expats choosing to have fun while he is here (ii) the women is a gold digger or worst (iii) escort service hmmm!

The manifestations of these can be seen in several technically small incidents. Like for example, when you choose to check into a hotel you are asked to prove that you are married. How does one prove that? By showing them a relevant document. what is that? a marriage certificate! Really!! who carries a marriage certificate and moves around in any case?

or the other incident was even better.

We head to a resort around Pune. A small bunglow converted into a hotel, serene, tranquil .. etc etc you get the drift. Enter details as mandated in the log book. Wrong thing to do was to reach there wearing what i think was a pretty summer dress and heels. What waits us there is a bunch of men, who have come from Pune to ENJOY... you know what that means, drinks, cards a bonfire, loud music, lots of bc-mc floating around and a bunch of loud boys.

Fair enough. Your form of fun, please have it. carry on.

What happens though is this. As i leave the next day and get into network area, very strange sms's begin to pop on my black berry. To the tune of 'if you are done can you please call' assuming it was the landlord of the resort, I call back .. no ones picks up

a min or two later the person calls back. Hi is this N.. he asks, this is Sumeet here.. we met at the resort and you gave me your number? What no! i never gave anyone my number..? so who the hell are you and what the f do u want?

Aaaaahh .. no no we were wondering , you know if you were going to be done with your client!

I hear that and I freak out. Yelling into the phone and I dont even know what to say, so stunningly stupid is that what I am hearing!!!!! Escort service ... what the hell is this even about!! ........ called
the resort person and this was his response was deal with it. People in India are silly! and thats what this is about there is nothing one can do.

The feeling that I got was - that I was being the person silly, why should I even be calling him and getting troubled.. and there is no need for being that loud about it. The fact that I was hurt was my problem it would have been normal

after all i was with a white man. what did i expect
the fact was that I was supposed, asking for it!

This is it. India slaps u.

Monday, October 3, 2011

Turning 30

oh my god.. you are going to be 30 years old? my nephews eyes opened in horror as he looked at me with his mouth open.  Are you not like getting really old? Should you not be sort of settled in life.

He is 20 years old
I am a fossil in his eyes. Stuck between his parents and something in between.

He believes that he shall be a world traveller, half retired, and singing in kareoke bars in Japan for the joy of it by the time he is 30. I hope he is. 

My ivory coast called me and asked if I had completed my list of things that were there to do before I was 30. Am not sure if I made such a list, and if I had where it is now. Nah am not even going to make a list of what I want to achieve by the time I am 40. It seems for the 30 year old in me as faar off as the complete meltdown of the polar ice caps. am sure it shall come, and am sure I shall be as surprised by its coming than not.

But what has happened with this age?
The few things that are visible and on the surface different that I can point out are:

  • There are greys that appear in ones hair
  • Starting something new takes longer to do
  • contentment is about a book, a quilt and a arm flung around the person u love
  • loud music over dinner is an irritant, one prefers conversation
  • reconnecting with parents is not something one is made to do
  • old friends pop back in life, and new friends are more in the i know him but i dont know know him
  • loosing weight is not that easy
  • a good deal - is more about the larger things in life, than flip flops
  • one wonders why girls giggle so much
  • You stop believing that one can retire in 4 years
  • When you travel, there is a hesitation in striking up a conversation with someone new, a little more than earlier
  • you jump a lot more - in your head
  • tolerance levels are at an all time high, at an all time low
  • you know yourself and accept yourself a lot more
There is a growing up. tone of conversations change, but there is a desire like a rocket in the bum that eggs one to do more, be more, try more, share more.. live more

The fastest slow race to leave a mark

As i enter the 30's the one thing that is change, is that unlike the 20s where the canvas of life changed every 2 years, new people came, old people left, the ties were so organic that they changed rapidly .. now something are more constant. and the rest less important

the unknows are there, as many as uncertain but what does change is the fact that you are more sure of yourself.

hope so

Thursday, September 29, 2011


There is something very interesting about taking flights. The moment I step into the cab that drives me to the airport I am transported to another land, the daily life begins receding and new instances and conversations open up.

Baring the packing, everything else about it is fun.

Surprisingly awake at 6. 30 am I make my way into the Bangalore airport. the ques are tiny, the mens section horribly busy the females not as much. Smiling to myself, I browse at the local book store stopping yet once more in front of a spiritual book.

amongst the business novels yelling there fares ranging from how to stop talking and start doing, to the battle hymn of the tiger mom, a orange jacket cover peeped out. Lessons learnt while trying to sit and meditate or something like that.

Supremely tempted I leaned in to buy the book, only to remind me that a fat ass book was already in my bag. Rueing the Free Tibet, purchased I marched along.

Filter coffee. Check
Grab at least 3 news papers from the kiosk check
Dad calling on the phone.. huh? what is dad calling me for at 7 am? ..

Determine all is well, and no calamity has befallen the earth and get engrossed in the news. Same old information seeps in. Scary information. Global decline. Greek bailing out situation, the GDP aggregate of the developing economies to exceed that of the developed by 2013, China to have more clout that the states, and in the background can hear accented voices muttering about the rising interest rates, and how they love LA!!!! there is so much to do. followed by each time they think the interest rates cant rise anymore they do!.

Determined to understand this monster called interest rates, that was clearly making life miserable for lots of sods I read Mint cover to cover. Little nuggets of information logged in to the head, and lot bounced off. But the grim reality was that India is just about surfacing for breath once in a while and the shoddy governmental position, weak opposition and directionless RBI is not going to help much in arresting the 3 pillars of inflation, increasing interest rates and depreciating rupee.

Basically we were fucked.

Ah well. Falling asleep in the ATR. Which by the way has a loo. I never before noticed if theATR has a loo or not but it does. Also, if you are tall, and the over head cabin lockers are in a dropped down position, they you will likely to hit your head against it.

Technical glitches at the airport, delayed the luggage and then we were off. Oh yea, and I dropped my boarding pass twice. Never mind.

Flagging a taxi, hyderabad welcomed us with its rocky formations jeweling the road. What a road it was. A 12 km flyover links the airport to the city, and its the longest flyover ever. The man at Jubliee hills was another character.

Ex army. he choose the wrong story to conclude the meeting. He shared.......

It was the time of the india pak Kargil war. As I walked along the hills in the evening, the cook came up to be complaining about the menance the stray dogs were creating, they kept barking through the night and this would lead the entire batallion to wake up and get on high alert for no real reason. "SHOOT HIM' I ordered. He refused. and then shot in the air deliberately aiming to miss. 

I took the sniper gun and shot the dog. 


Fired that man the next day. a man that cant shoot a dog, wont be able to shoot another man. 

I quivered. He shot a dog.!!! for no real reason other than barking

Sad truth of life that I rather not know

The next flight of the day board, Mumbai shopping and a birthday beckons.. whoohoo its time for a holiday ;0 i like

Wednesday, September 28, 2011


I am releasing a birthday gifts list for me. For fun.

  • a bubble bath
  • balloons. lots of them, silly ones
  • a horse ride on the beach. Tonga ride
  • Silly drunkedness
  • photos in a mall booth, something i always wanted to do
  • grape squashing time
  • eating hot pav bhaji on the streets 
  • jumping on a trampoline
  • water skiing
  • going on a holiday- to a surprise area just like that
  • an intense kissing session
  • candles
  • cake
  • music - drunk music 
  • singing on the kareoke machine
  • 1 soft toy. A teddy. (i actually said that)
  • glamour shoes
  • a ride in a convertible
  • roller coaster ride 
  • splashing in a water fall
  • taking rock star posters, u know everyone wears black and u shoot some goofy pictures
  • meditating on a rock
  • seeing shooting stars
  • a bonfire and marshmellows
  • hot cup of rajdhani tomato soup
  • puchkas ;-0 ;-0
  • paints. lots of paints and a giant canvas. Splashing colour and making art
  • a diary 
  • 1 tripod
  • camera bag
  • bangles
  • 1 around the world ticket
  • a hot air balloon ride
  • getting a dance lesson
  • 1 joint
  • sitting by water body, sipping a drink and wearing a muffler
  • rain. little bit
  • laughter. lots of it.
  • hugs. bearish ones. 
  • sheep. 1 cuddly sheep
  • lemon tea. 
baas. itna only. 
gleefully rubbing hands

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Keep Walking

If there is a time that life seems too much, the latest twist uncalled for. 
then all one can do is keep walking

it seems impossible. there is constant questioning, desire for it to all go back to life as was
but all one can do is keep walking

sometimes in the middle of the walking process, a sense of enjoyment seeps in
a smile appears. for the first time in a long time it seems
freedom, the sense of endless possibilities comes closer. 
chains of similarity and predictability, are set sailing
and all one is left with is liberation. 
even then, all one can do is keep walking

the enjoyment, allows the soul to breathe, to be free, to live
in a  joyus heart, newness finds a path
you become, whole and complete.  an individual
no longer a broken piece of the whole
the joy attracts others, people envy you the freedom
the ability to take chances
moaning that you were lucky, they sadly dont have such chances
you smile an inner smile
pick yourself up. and keep walking

Somewhere along the path,  the newness becomes permanent
you look around wide eyed with wonder, amused at how you got here
nuggets of what you wanted, surround you
and it happened... dots and dashes conniving in your life to connect
a tapestry emerged.
you stood there enthralled
and shaking your head, in acknowledgement to life
you stood up, and kept walking

Destiny and Fate, are guiding paths on the way
choices and determination the walkers
what you get and what you make of it
is you, and yours to do.
there is always a chance to take
a leap to faith, to take
something to drop, something to grasp
live a little 
the rest is soon all crap

Leave everything else, but your childhood innocence,
hold his hand and .....Keep Walking........ 

Maya Angelo

a note extracted:

On pg 66 she talks abt wanting to end her life. Someone gives her a whiskey and a yellow pad and a pen. And forces her to write 'Thank God'
I can hear a symphony
I can see a waterfall
When I decide to write anything, I get caught up in my pwn insecurity despite the prior accolades. I think, uh, uh, now they will know I am a charltan that I really cannot write and write really well. I am almost undone, then I pull out a new yellow pad and as I approach the clean page, I think of how blessed I am.

The ship of my life may or may not be sailing on calm and amiable seas. The challenging days of my existence may or may not be bright and promising. Stormy or sunny days, glorious or lonely nights. I maintain an attitude of gratitude. If I insist on being pessimistic, there is always tomorrow.

Today I am blessed.

Monday, September 26, 2011

Pretty little Barbie

Lets do a make up course..I typed below the facebook profile. .. and waited. .. no one laughed. wow. ok. so this was not daft. 


So the confession time was here,  I had always wanted to do one of these courses. Think it was a childhood hangover, from a summer holiday, where my cousin was sent to one of those stlying courses. No. Stop. Dont think Femina miss india. mumbai kind but more the madwai kind where the new hairstyles were more about the 50 kind of buns that one could make. 

the child in me wanted to know the tricks, the tom boy in me refused to be sucked into this shoo shaa and be the teeny booper that spend hours in front of the mirror. 

One evening, however after the first ever professional makeup that was done to the face, the transformation was complete.  A new idea grew, the intention to do this silly course for fun once more.

So come saturday morning the tasks were set. 
Brushes and lotions, creams and vails.
the ignorance shone and transformations commenced

Step 1 - Clean
Step 2 - tone
Step 3 - primer use karo (ah? isnt this what painting companies use? turns out its all similar)
Step 4 - oops forgot the lotion that comes post the toner
Step 5 - concealer
the brown skin has no good conclearer, you are now fucked, so please make do with the rubbish outside.
Step 6 - foundation - dab dab not rub rub,  choose the right shade, merge, blend
Step 7 - fix the make up
Step 8- countour ur face
Step 9- commence the eyes
that is an enclyclopedia in itself. one lesson later
Step 10- lips to be done
now for the hair and the rest

Step 11- take off your clothes and go to bed with all the sheer effort put in getting ready. Also, remember this is only the make up part. Skin and hair care is a different matter all together. Once a month one must ensure there is a pedicure, manicure, waxing, and massage. 2 a month once must ensure that there is a hair spa, facial. bleach, cleaning session, deep tissue massage, hair colour and the rest of the treatments whose names i dont know

Listening to her in raptures it seemed that I should spend most of my life in the parlour chair. Anything else would be a crime. 

Blondie heard her out, and on sunday dressed up my eyes like how.
pouted in the mirror and pruned
i now atleast had knowledge of what tools that i could use

geared and charged, let the brushes do their magic

Uneasy flows the river

There is an unknown sadness that is forming inside me.  Observe it and yet know not what to do with it.  
Restlessness, is also seeping in.  Interia is blocking it.

Silence is a good companion.
Exercise too.

Missing connections, to the larger whole
to the self
is this me? or is this about the birthday blues?

Some nervousness remains about the big move
Is this right? Have i heard my heart
the soul twitches
poking me
asking for the yoga mat to be rolled out

Have resisted it.
Wonder why
There is something I need to do

Tuk tuk of Eat, Pray and Love
with his gap tooted smile
comes in my mind
Liz, for love sometimes it is ok to loose balance he said
and then come back to it
but make sure
that in the morning you do the meditation that the Indian guru taught u
and in the evening, you sit in silence, smiling from inside as tuktuk taught you
then enjoy yourself loosing yourself in the medlee of life

i need the smiling meditation

Forty Rules of Love

Forty Rules of Love

'Please give me a book to read for the next weeks, but a happy book' she said as she shut the last pages of Norwegian Wood, by Murakami. Its such a sad book that one, the person dies and till the end you want to just jump into the scene and breathe the air, of the quaint sounding Japanese towns that he keeps talking about. 

I stood on the bed, scanning the three layered bookshelf. Happy book, that should be easy I thought, as my eyes lingered on one book after the other. The museum of innocence- sad not happy, the colour purple- very strong and stirring, not happy, the Joke,  Milan Kundera, same not happy

One by one the names of books, that kept me company over the last few months gazed back at me.  Looking at them, I realized that it was almost impossible to describe in a snapshot the journey that the book had taken you through.

Inconsequential statements were the best lines that I could emerge with. 'thats a page turner'. 'believable', 
 'tough read' and so on. For the first time ever, I felt for the book reviewing artists whose 1 comment was plastered on the back, egging the reluctant book shopper to dedicate there time to reading the work. 

Alone in the evening, i tried to explain to someone far away what the new book was doing for me.  Forty Rules of Love. by Elif Shafak. 

Its an interesting tale, of how the book came to be in my hands in the first place.  Though, I regularly scold myself for not scouting sites on new books and releases, there is little action done. Result, that when i do pop by into a bookshop, am transformed into a child in a candy land, letting imagination, smell, look and feel lead me to a book, than a review or anothers view. 

In my mind, I believe I am somehow lead to what I need to read. It works well for me. 

Saw this book, at the airport and choose not to buy it as the counter lady seemed to take forever to process bills. forgot all about the book, until one lazy afternoon saw me meandering the rows of Blossoms, the Bangaloreans book clubs delight. The book lay there, asking somehow to be read. 

Thursday night, our relationship commenced. Sunday night, it ruefully ended. 

Forty Rules of Love- somehow left a mark. 

Ella, is a 40 year old American, married and living her life with predictability as her staunch companion. Dreams, love and Desire are alien words, Understanding, Duty and being the mom and wife are roles. Till Sweet Blasphemy, a book she is to review falls into a lap. 

A book woven into a book, takes us into the strange lands of turkey during the days of Rumi the Sufi Poet.  The name automatically generates interest but the main character is shams of Tabriz. A wandering devrish, who becomes the instigator, the trigger behind the metamorphasis of Rumi. 

Taken in by the book, Ella decides to write to Aziz, the author of Sweet Blasphemy. The email exchanges gets addictive, the opposite natures compelling, the words draw out the connection that both feel yet cant articulate. 

this love story, is a backdrop to the love flowing between Shams and Rumi. Shams challenges, dictates, loves and charms. For every situation he has a rule. A rule of love. 


Shutting this book, there was a sense of silence that enfolded me. The message, known but needing repetition was whispered once more. In the infinity of life everything is whole and complete. Our job is to go inward, focus there and the rest is not important. not real.

A book that I recommend

for me for some reason Sufism and tibetiasm/buddhism have had a strange and fascinating pull for the past few months. Milarepa, the tibetin man - now the saint. Anne, the Tibetian nun, the saga of the sufi saints ... something about the mystic has a pull that is not shrug-able.

to flowing

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Zindagi Na Milege Dobara

As I got into the hall, could feel the tension sitting plum between the shoulder blades. There suddenly seemed to be a million things that were to be planned, and work to be done, travel, weekend plans,battery conked off, ppt to be made, think its something about making ppts that I hate to the core that makes me nervous and I end up doing everything and anything but that.. like head off and see a movie. makes the most sense

So off it was to see the Movie that I had been wanting to see for a while.The saga of 3 friends, a road trip and a new discoveries to be made. Made me wonder if male holidays and female holidays are by default different. Both can be fun, but they tend to just be a bit different over time for whatever reason..

The lull of the road, the new  people, the new experiences and the ability to push the buttons and face your fears that is what the whole thing is about. Was feeling butterflies in my belly at the idea of dropping off the sky, the scuba experience had in January made me feel fear, and yet there was a desire to face it

Things that make my tummy curl are so many its funny. heights, depths, water, big waves, ..... am a wooz ;( in camoflauge! thinking about what i wanted to do it was clear, travel and write - not travel write but travel write.To find out what made the people do what they did, where they did it and how did it differ for them.

Its a natural urge to know and unpeel.
Neha Elizabeth Gilbert
It is coming my way.soon
because- Zindagi Na Banege Dobara!

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Gymming in Golds Gym

It finally began to work and that at a time when I am almost ready to move from the area! Bloody hell. But keeping the pettiness aside, the gym has finally started and made a few good resolutions yesterday

  • ·         Not drink till December
  • ·         Exercise
  • ·         And follow a smart diet

It’s a strange thing, the moment there is a biggish occasion coming up the first few pieces of advice from well meaning friends come to the women and not to the man. The men pretty much have to show up, get some booze organized and then well show up. Blimey is the world unfair or what.

So here went some of the well meaning options.  In order of the bestnest or the worseness, you be the judge

Advice 1

There is a broth diet that you must try. Basically you make a big bowl of hot water with all the vegetables brewed in it, throw the veggies out and eat the rest. Do this for about 3-5 weeks till you get to see the desired results.  It will only show in a while; but it is a super way to get ur self fit in no time.

Advice 2

Just drink juice, lots of it all the time. Alternatively one can try the carb diet where one does not eat any carbs for 2 days and then has a carb day and then no carbs for 2 days again.  Also heard were the south beach diet, the atkins and for a moment was tempted to get back on the good old GM diet

Advice 3

Drink Green tea the moment you wake up. Run and Jog as much as you can, as often as you can. There is nothing like an occasional indulgence, its all bad and it all adds up. Refrain from all and any forms of indulgences all the time. Fried food is a no –no as are sweets and pasteries that you may want to delight yourself with

Advice 4

From the only parsi baba that I know, eat rich fatty ghee invested food and then run like the wind and smoke up on top of it all. Everything will be fine

Advice 5
Get a nose job.

Advice 6
Don’t bother, its all fixed anyway

Advice 7
Loose the paunch, seal the deal fast, drink lots of water, apply laser on body parts, get tanning facing, get skin glow cream, get lingerie, music, dance classes, language classes, make family happy, talk slowly, and also included is become docile.

Tired of all this and bowing to the universe in gratitude for the opening of the Gym off I went yesterday. The first person I saw was Venkatesh Prasad and then the entire gym opened up, with the yoga and the rest. On one hand it was cosmopolitan, modern and representing urban india with all age groups of people there.  

As I came home to my dinner of soup and salad, a pal called to tell me about meeting a girl for the marriage thing and the poor thing was actually asked to sing for him!!!!! Those things are also a reality was so unnerving that it made me laugh at the madness of it all.

This to me was the madness of India, in the same city a 45 year old salwar kammez wearing aunty could bend and touch her head to the ground, a young girl sang her wannabe groom a song, a man came to repair my car on the road, and advice arnd how and what a girl should look like shone.

India my mad mad nation.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Same Same but different

There has been a rather long sabbatical from the blog and suddenly out of the blue there is a desire to slow down, reflect and write. In a good way, a time to sense and feel the goodness of life and the changes that have come in the past few weeks.

Seems like the longest and the shortest month of life. There was a trip to Leh, Manali, and Dharamshala, followed by a quick dash home and followed by a quick dive into the beaches of Kerala. Spending time travelling always makes me happy and quiet and in a sense very reflective.

As the mountains of Leh submerged one, with the vast open vistas opening up from one range to the other, the silence overwhelmed you. Looking at the road workers, working on the side of the road one could not but wonder at the different lives that people lead..

It filled one with a sense of emptiness, with everything else taking a back seat. Work was not that crucial, life would figure itself out, there was a flow to it, a greater intelligence how else can one explain the intricate mountains, the old monk living in a monastery with the bells chime as a constant sound, the soldiers who had died building the roads, the other who charged up a hill to defend a nation, the brave tea stall owner who choose to come and set up shop at a conflict ridden area.

The hills charm, for the silence and the people that live there.

Ladhak – a culture a region that seemed lost. In the middle of nowhere there seems like a little town plucked out of Enid Blyton book that has been placed there. The palace, the people the houses all smart of an inborn simplicity, a race that over the years built a pact with nature and religion to live life a certain way.

Bhuddism spread itself, represented in houses that were simple from the inside, food that was wholesome yet not complicated, laughter that was there in the eye and yet something was changing. The monasteries were slowly getting deserted, prosperity was knocking on heavens door.

Ironically, the richer the nation got – yes three idiots was a cause, yes Makemytrip had taken the exotic out of leh, yes there was a traffic jam, yes the weather had changed but all this had done something for the person there. Given him a choice – a sense of liberation. Ok fine, this is debate-able, there are lots of larger corporate that are coming and making their seasonal home in leh, the waiter flits from leh and goa, the rafter from rishikesh to zanskar, a moving hybrid population comes in cashes in on the tourist and leaves.

Irrespective of the format of the eco –system, what does end up happening is that there is a sense of money that flows in. Now a smaller family and a richer family, does not feel the mental duty to send a son to the monastery, the number of lamas reduces, and there is a smaller and smaller percentage that comes into the sect.

Reading the Living in Exile by Dalai Lama and the Last Seen in Lhasa, the 2 books on the Tibetian Bhuddist way of life made me realize the vulnerability of their way of life, and how ruthlessly the Chinese invasion has destroyed a culture that was built over years.

Ladhak is not Tibet, its causes are different but its still a similar life, a similar belief system a system that is getting altered and changed. It’s a good thing – the power to choose for oneself what one wants to do. This power is seeing monks relinquish robes, and give us celibacy. It’s a sad thing, seeing the slow decline of a culture, a way of life, a prayer wheel a manner of showing all us tourist hunting, camera totting visitors that when life in your head and city gets too much to handle and do, there is someone, somewhere, whom you met, who life is being lived truly differently..

Not connected, but a visual image that I can never shake from my memories is one of a lady saint I met in the top of Tapovan a few years ago. Tapovan was above Gokmukh – the place from where the Ganges start, it’s a pass that connects Gangotri to Kedarnath – high above any reach of civilization. A south Indian, she had made a tent in that pass her home, spending her day there in solitude – contemplation.

Grinning like a school girl she looked at me straight in the eye and asked - ‘whats the hurry?’ grinned and left again to make some steaming coffee. Never been able to shrug that piercing look of hers off, and that somehow she had looked right through me.

In the end, weeks after the trip I am now remembering what it really meant for me.

Thursday, July 7, 2011


I am in a happy mood, super happy. And the reason is that I have found a gorgeous plan for myself that works so well. 

After a long time there is a sense of excitement, that i can make this happen, that there is an end, that there is a newness possible. that it can be me, that it can happen, that its possible. oooh thats such a delicious word 'possible'  the land of possibilities.

Faraway Tree.

One of my favourite books of all time was a land of possibilities. As one climbed up the tree and went to the upper most branches where there was only lots of mist and clouds one waited to see the different lands that could come there. Some were good lands, where one could go ride on merry go rounds, eat candy that became so big in your mouth that it could make you fly and then there were miserable lands where the gobblins would eat you up and spit you out. or the land would commence tilting and throw one off their feet making you sick to the belly, wanting to puke your guts out...

the best part was the slippery slide that one took from Moon Faces room, you sat on a cushion and slid down the tree plopping out from the end of the chute to land on your ass. If you happened to forget the cushion, you  ended up having a very very sore and grazed ass.

Darn I am rambling again...
But in a way am not...

The Faraway tree was a book where anything could happen, pixies could wink themselves into unicorns and little children could be talking to owls. Growing up, I wanted my fairy god mother to come and wave her wand at me, to show me the little hole where i had to burrow into and enter the magical land of talking animals.. needless to say am still waiting for the hole to emerge

Last night, as I sat on friends terrace the tingliness of a new life began creeping in as a plan, as a possibility, as a probability.. there was a head rush of excitement that has me grinning from ear to ear. please god pretty please can we have some fun in life now, please pretty please??

as i sit in office on a thursday afternoon, i am mesmerized by the land of possiblities, it feels good, its possible

high five life

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

The saga of ppt's

in my little world there is always time for everything. time for a meal to be made, playing with the dog, talking to friends, conversing with mom, calling a cousin, planning a trip and on and on the list moves. There is never not enough time

For everything but work. When it comes to work the world seems to come to a standstill. I labour over it for a long time, taking ages to do something that should have been done and completed a long time ago.

Groan. The world of extendable deadlines, there is never anything missing from it.

On that note its time to return to the world of biogas and start doing some serious ppt making.


Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Early Morning Vistas

A breakfast meeting at 7 am. I groaned inwardly. Why in the world did I do so. At 6.15 am the phone shrilled me awake, and D yelled into the phone waking me up.

Mumbling something intuitively, I rolled back into bed and cuddled the blanket super tight. It was time to sleep not to have a early morning shower and head out. Bloody hell, but since showing up wasnt an option there was not much choice but to fall off the bed and into the shower.

7.09 am and I had left the building. Given that there was no trip involved it was a first after a long time for me to even contemplate. Driving on empty roads was a relief and felt like slapping the few joggers on the road that were reminders about a healthy life that I vowed to always keep.

Zooming in to the Leela and sitting at the coffee shop. I saw the glowing faces of the largely foreign clientele gleaming at me, bright happy dressed in suits the men were consuming a quiet breakfast ready to attack the day.

Made me remember a early morning birthday that last to last year. at a bleary 5.45 am, the train station was crowded with people, stockings on, heels and make up in place the dark night had a crowded tube with people jamming against each other. The rush hour was on., it wasnt even 6 in the morning. Made me realize the hard life below the surface, the ability to get a lot more done in a day was attained by pushing oneself to do a lot  more every day.

Somehow it seemed a little more possible there., everyone pushed you into doing  more and not settling for less. being fit was all over the place and there was no scope for complacency. Am diverting attention from my own laziness to the environment, however a buzz in a place does have a role to play

the more alive you feel the more you can do
the more you do the more alive you feel
so just do it

Monday, June 20, 2011


The buzz is on. The pressure is on. Deadlines, timelines, holidays, workdays, the day is here the weeks are here. Time is crucial, make it count. The future beckons, the now remains, there is a lot on, there is nothing happening, there is much to do, there is little to do, there is a speed demon, there are lazy conversations, the mantra is India, its Europe that is exotic, here and now, then and there.

So much to do, so much laziness, so little gets done.

There is a movement mode that is on for the now, thats eating me up. a desire to get on, get going, get seeing, get on, get on. First virgin client presentation on this week. Butterflies in the tummy. thats a good thing to happen because it make me grow

New travel destinations
new places to see
that makes me happy

new moves for friends. new friends being made
new passions to learn
new new new

still there is something that clings on
like algae and moss
there is a lot to see
and life years maynot be

damm this post, makes no sense
shall shut upo and work instead.
goodie goo
contentment damm u

Friday, June 17, 2011


I failed at completing the Vipasana.

24 yrs old, a lost cocky law graduate I did not know what I wanted to do with my life. Groping for answers, unemployed and juggling for balance I decided to head to Vipassana to spend time with myself to get to know the answers from within.

A flirtatious meditator and worse a person with limited attention span or mental concentration to stick to any one thing, it was a silly commitment to have made. At 24, it is just one more window of exploration that is opened, one more world that you want to peak into. So off I went. M kept insisting that I was biting more than I could chew. It wasnt easy. It was grueling.

Completing a holiday with friends, and spending a day doing nonsense, I packed my bags. Gingerly looking at the massive gates of the Dharamkot ashram I did not know what to expect, what to sign in for. I stood there waiting for my number to be called and verdict declared.

I was in. Had a room not a dorm. Sharing with 3 other women.
Plonking my bags, I trugded up to the room, getting ready for the 10 days that waited for me.

To do justice to what happened I need more time and more space. Sheepishly also a lot more honesty. The truth of the matter is that in the end, I could not complete it. I cried and cried, cried somemore and had no idea why. As i beseeched the teacher to let me go, she looked me straight in the eye and said that I was leaving an operation incomplete and that it was people like me who needed it the most

Its been several years and the one failing that follows me is this
the inability to spend 10 days in silence with me
one day

Thursday, June 16, 2011

ek tara bola

Last night the moon was shadowed by the earth, it hid from view for 110 minutes and then peeped out much later. this shall be seen again in 2141 a time when my presence on earth shall cease to exist and everything that I have in front of me now, touchable, seeable shall not exist either. The world as i now it today would have poofed out. 

I love that thought. it liberates me infinitely. Reason - almost anything and everything that then consumes us will cease to matter, the world will spin, the moon too seasons shall carry on and the in the infinite of the moment all will be as all will be. 

all this above philosophy is my way of making up for the fact that i slept through the entire thing, and did not venture to the veranda to actually see the moon dance with the earth. they move too slowly. i sound blonde!

was a good day yesterday, a peep into flashback time as i visited my counsellor to say hi. She seems for me to be like a custodian of my secrets. and a reminder of the journey that has been done at a personal level at the relationships and the mishaps that have shaped ones life. 

Was a easy reminder that today, these days were the good days. that there was growth and stability, that it had not come easy, and it was time to give one a pat on the back and applaud oneself. appreciating the self was a interesting thing to do. 

A new place to eat is what city joy is about. Returning, we saw the new metro whizz by our heads, the promised tease yet not released.As i said farewell, to a friend off to travel there was a moment of joy, the free road the liberated feeling, the open time and conversation, where one can be and do whatever one wants to be and do.. where one can be anyone anytime.. and the freedom of travel

2 women opened hearts to me. Both 24. Both wanting out, wanting new, wanting dare. but there is something that makes traveling alone seem a daunting task to many, too new too scary. too daring. wish they would try it. it allows u to become u. a little bit more. or be silent with u. shape what u want to be, acknowledge the things that u are about. 

to seeing the world. one bit at a time

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Where are we to go?

Rahul ran to school, more nervous than the evening that he went with Shweta to the movies 3 days ago. The results were in. His class 12 board results were being declared today and his tummy was knotted up. So much depended on it. The marks he got would determine his college, his friend circle, his coming of age, his first job, his first gf, his monies, his potential to be picked up for a scholarship for a masters..everything simply everything rested on this.

He was alone. Early. He did not want to have any family around. Though it was a tough thing to even imagine, he hoped that even his friends were not there. Heaven forbid, what if there was an issue? what if someone had not graded his answer sheet? what if there was a kanjoos examiner? what if Rohan got more than him? and if even Nikita, to whom he had taught maths the whole time managed to score higher? what if he could not sit in the Stephens Cafe and call it home.. ..... what if, what if? palms sweaty he wished the auto to go faster, he wished it would never reach.

The gate loomed close, there was no where to go but to the crowded buzzing wall. Kids stood around it, hovering like bees. Some jumping, some sullen, everyone going to check and double check. Tension filled the air, anxiety sweated out from its pores.

The school gated loomed closer, hastily paying the auto driver, he stepped out. hmmmmmmmm, a deep sigh escaped him. Straightening his shoulders, he muttered a short prayer below his breath and took a tentative step towards the sheets that held his future captive.

Shoving himself into the middle of the crowd, he carefully avoided any form of eye contact. Elbows jostled him, he moved on. Shit, he should have carried a pen and paper to take down the marks. Annoyed, he took out his cellphone and retrived the admission number he had strored there.


His heart skipped a beat. Tracing his finger to the row, he moved his eyes. Code 009 score 91, Code 008 score 88, code 007 score 89, code 006 score 78, code 005 score 93. He blindly took it down, the scores and the codes not making sense.

78! 78!! how the hell did he get a 78?? What was 005? he fumbled around, asking the codes and the papers they stood for. Accounts. - This was not happening, he could not have scored this in Accounts, he was an ace accountant, the rules were made for him he was the stock market whiz kid this was his trump card, this was not real...

Sitting with a thud on the steps he dismissed the laudatory marks on the remaining subjects without a moment of recognition. Reality hit him. The Cafe was gone. Poof went the Stephens tag. Hindu, SRCC, Hansraj the list of names reverberated in his head. Cut off marks from last year mocking him, mocking his marks. 98%, 97%, 95% large numbers, meaningless numbers.

KiroriMal.. the very name made him shudder. He was not a Kirorimal person he would not be one ever. Venky - images of ugly men loafing on bikes smoking made him close his eyes in mock horror. He held his head in his hands and shook with misery. What now what now what now??? the only question that loomed for him remained this.

His phone buzzed. Mom calling. He cut the line. Not yet.
Rohan calling. no way. not now

switching on the calculator he calculated his best of 4- acceptable but not good enough. How could be drop accounts. Dejected, angry and tired. he sat there looking at his school. These steps, just 3 months ago were home, the way to start a morning.

He missed it already. the security of the school bus. plonking yourself on the stairs and fighting with the karamcharis who threatened to throw dirty water down the stairs to push u off. The morning assembly that was a joke, sneaking into class late and sleeping till one was jostled awake.

Tears smarted his eyes. STOP IT, he cant cry here.

Picking himself up. He went once more to the white sheets, hoping the numbers had juggled themselves in the list,. hoping that the cafe would be his morning pitstop once more. hoping for anything but reality.

It wasnt to be. Black numbers remained frozen. Life had stopped.

Monday, June 13, 2011

ping pong ball.

I am like a ping pong ball today.

For a reason that I cannot fathom, have been leaping from my seat and jumping up and down making mental notes to do this or that, running errands and feeling elated about and.. waiit for it the reason cant be more disgustingly gleeful. working.

I am excited about working!!! how sweet is that, excitement to do the work that one is to do is a incredible state to be in because that somehow shows that u are not jaded and not in a state of know it all. done it all feeling.

Nevertheless, there is something that my boss said recently. He said no matter the degrees that you have, or the pedigree that you come to the world with, ultimately it is about the Club that one can say one belongs to. The Club as an entity is very subtle, very backgroundish, but immensely valuable as the Club somehow can pull you along or throw you out.

The idea made me puke, momentarily

As a teenaged outsider, a person who had lurked on the periphery of anything groupy, the idea of a club seemed clanish, like a desperate need to adhere to something. Then i paused and looked at him, chilling with a beer at the airport terminal, he himself belonged to the Club without comprimising on who he was or what he stood for.

Interestingly, it was his 'standing out'  that allowed him to stand in, respect and credibility to this guy. The fact that he himself was an outlier, was his USP that gave him some level of sancicity towards the Club.

This morning a rather interesting thing happened. As we sat around the breakfast table, i showcased to the house the next project that we are a part of . There was a sense of pride that i felt at stating that this is what i could and can do, that this is the scope of my work, and this could be my launchpad.

it made me pause.
For someone who has wanted for ever, since i was a 14 year old teenager to work in  a place where one was not trapped in by the hands of the clock but by the joy of the work one did, there was a sense of arrival that sank in. Though sometimes abstract, and often woolly it seems to me, - i have allowed that to be cast aside at my mind playing tricks on me and having to grumble about the life situation.

a unnecessary hassle not to be given much thought.

overall its good to feel like a orange bouncy ping pong ball.......

Friday, June 10, 2011

Weekly memories

Monday Blues gives way to Friday hues. If there was a rainbow that could change colours with the changing moods of mine it would be one hell of a colourful ride.

Monday was a silly day, spent making lunch at home, taking the cab to move from one Hospital Road to the other, who in the world has 2 streets with the same name in one city anyway? sat and talked about bio gas to the person in a shady office and came home after happily drenching myself in the rain

Stoned i sat below the white new lamps and read that kurt vonegauts book. As madness rained in the kitchen and Oreo Cheese Cake jostled with the pleasures of a MeatBall Spagetti, a 9 people sit down dinner on Monday, lead to a hurried dinner the next day complete with burgers and corn. A DJ frying kebabs while a ambulance noise making girl sat on the couch watching the said white lamps

A bad decision to have a heart to heart, lead to tears and fears. Time came to a standstill and life ground to a halt, ok it did not really do any of those things, but for the moment at that time it sure felt like that.

Wednesday was worse, in the depths of deprivation it came a notch below. my nose leaked and my eyes too, together made a pool the size of winne the pooh near my laptop. I wept and wailed, cried and hailed the dear go make some mistake.

Someone told me they were BIG News! tired, i packed my bags, left work and went home. moping, groping for lifelines that were none.

Turned out there was an exit gate that I had not seen, took the turn. ate Korean food, tried to manage chopsticks, saw Valkerye sat on the floor and also tried to map Leh and Spiti. Woke up with a thud, man left home and i discovered new cushion covers, that made my home. home

Chintamani is a name of a place on a Map. Met Kiran Kumar a 45 yr double phd holder, who had invested his life into setting up Bio gas plants everywhere. The man made us sit in a villagers house, where the sweetest girl was washing dishes while this ugly Turkey was moping around looking for excuses to just bellow into the tinier chickens ears.

The tiny chicken would flap in anger and hop onto the goat, who would bleat in annoyance setting off the dog till the man came the owner in a blue pair of shorts yelling into the dogs ear to SHUT UP.

Work and Obama killing Osama wrapped up that evening, with Big Bazaar rummaging off the shelves. There was laughter and noise and all things nice. Work came with the news of leaves and now all is over as one is looking for 2 weeks of hills and snow and photography yeyeyee

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

kal aaj aur kal.

The Past, the Present and the Future.
Being Stuck in All Three.

the past

I was carefree, happy and alive. Believed in a simple life. Walking to school, on the eve of a maths exam I waited breathlessly for the time that I would be grown up. I made a plan for myself, hmm given that there was a lot to do in life, I would marry a little late. In the teenaged 13 year old mind, 27-28 was very very late. At 28 I was to be glamourous, very popular, a globe trotter, creative and having a spell binding collection of art, music and literature.

The teenager grew from a somewhat ugly duck to a presentable swan. Life became the mayhem of the 20's. Convent college coupled with inadequate girlie skills made me the last one to get a guy, the elusive boy friend remained a mystery.

Remember walking in the local park in the colony and asking the 1 year older and bf wiser girlpal., what a kiss felt like, and praying everynight for love to come knocking on my door.

Time swept on. Casting the illusions of love to a corner, one made oneself interesting, endearing, the guy between the girls, the easy to hang out with person and with it came friendships, some with strings and some without strings. The teenager witnessed this silently. Approving and Disapproving in the same breath. Approving that there was living happening, risk happening, disapproving the loss of a dream that was slowing vaporising into thin air.

Love happened one day, at the wedding of this same colony walking girl. It came from nowhere, spread everywhere and something happened. Happiness became a fellow friend, dreams cocooned themselves around me and life seemed perfect in the present.

Aaj/the present

The moment that happens, the present becomes happy, the little me wanted to capture it. Store it, hold it to ransom - till it promised that it wasnt an illusion, that she wasnt a guest but a resident. Sign the contract, I wanted to yell at her, that you will stay not only for today but also for tomorrow, and the many morrows after that..

She threw a tantrum
We negotiated
and finally she, stifled by the demands that the future cast on her

the present that was happy, alive began reeking of uncertainty, frustration and desperation as the straws to weave a future life from begun to crumble.

But then again, as one looked back at the moment that had just become the past one wondered. Isnt a future purpose a necessity for a sustainability of a relationship? or is looking for a future killing the present? is it even meant to be that complex, cant one just flow from one to the other???

The Future

a house with picket fences, a giant veranda, the teraccota animals dotting the wall, the speakers mounted there the south indian swing, the man the me, the news of the pregnancy, the slow silent dance, the candles in their trapped glass casings, the dog pawing our legs, nandu the turtle snoring in a corner, the french windowed glass, the wine cooling in the jar, the gentle breeze....

somehow this is what i have been fixated on since i can remember

just the fixation seems to be an illusion
time to change - frames? myself? or ...........

Tuesday, June 7, 2011


the new lamps came up in the living room yesterday. Three white round lamps, that hang down from the ceiling and disturb the sleep of the money plant, the little flowering potted fellow and the dancing leaves nut case of a plant that are the newest residents to the house.

The lighting livens up the room, the lighting is just perfect for the most pleasurable passtime of all reading. Aah, in a book called Virginia Monologues, there was an interesting aspect to reading that was highlighted. As the author  Virginia grew up, she nestled in her room to read and her mother would be on the look out to throw her out to do SOMETHING MEANINGFUL !!!

Reading was seen as the epitome of indulgence, there was nothing created nothing done.

I smiled as I curled into the window seat, of my flight reading those lines. Memories of summer holidays, where the world of words was my guide floated before me. Books and me, cant seem to be torn apart for very long. Its hopeless really, to recall some of the most hideous places where I have read a book... lets see

- the moving jolting car rides on the hills
- on the pot
- in the traffic while driving
- while walking on the roads
- in villages at local tea stalls
- in the parlour while someone cut my hair
- bus stops
- in busses, trams, metros, anything anywhere where someone else was driving
- at the most scenic mountain resorts, where reading seemed impossible to stop vs gazing outside

my mother and me had our book fights too. As a kid, it was but obvious that the fattest largest most racy book would be picked up by me right before the exams. Addiction would come and plonk herself on the desk right in between the Maths and the Geography books.

Baas that was it. The old tricks would be hauled out from the 'outwit mother' cupboard.
Trick 1 - place the book inside the history book. Remember to turn pages of both periodically
Trick 2-  Cover the book with news paper and label it Biology Human Anatomy-II
Trick 3- have an upset belly and sit in the loo for long stages

Mothers ofcourse being genetically smarter, would have to do things like hide the book, ration reading time and worst return the book to the library. That was just too much to bear. Last evening, as I raced through a Kurt Vonnnegut - a man without a country, I laughed at the craziness that books got to ones life.

Curled into the couch, there was a contentment to the moment, an ageing angry man ranted in the book about fossil fuels and the loss of the world, the lamps danced in the breeze and yet again the cities of new york seemed to have a sense of knowigness about them, though there wasnt a physical step that I had taken there.

From truffle treats, the hot chocolate, pixies to candies, from noddy to the world war, it has been only the land of books that has gotten me closer to the truth than the news, made me delve into the layers of universes unknown to me and often ever so often, said something that had rumbled in my belly but never had formed a line a lucid thought of speech

Smiling,I gazed at the clouds lingering below my flight and nodded my head.

it sure was. Reading sure was the biggest indulgence that one had.
one that bought me more joy than even bubbles
a library was a heaven of candy that was non consumable
and a book, a treasure to be opened. 
if all else i loose, let me not loose the joys of devouring a book

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Rest Assured

There are some truths that we all know but pretend to do nothing about.
There are some truths that we know and hope they remain true forever
There are some truths that we are oblivious about and maybe like the ostrich notions of it
and then there are some truths that are true only for you. your life and your world.
your notions and beliefs that define you

Here are something that I think for me come somewhere in the above categories

  • Life is about relationships. When you die - your legacy is in the form of the people that you met and the lives that touched you and vica versa
  • There are no coincidences, something connects us that makes it a mix of your will and the others life to get you where you are today. You are responsible for your life
  • Violence is not needed. Almost always. Maybe in self defense but only then.
  • Puppies and rain can make you happy. 
  • There will always be a crisis, an international conspiracy, a few corrupt politics and it will be white noise that you can choose to accept, change,disregard, or fume over. Either way they shall remain and crop up
  • Travelling makes you silent. and joyful
  • Nature empties you, leaving space for new thoughts to emerge
  • You will be hurt, you will cause hurt, there will be unfair moments and then there shall be moments of sheer success
  • Run, walk, move your body its leaves you feeling happier
  • As you age, you will not necessarily get wiser
  • Your parents were doing the best they can., they get more resolute and fixated as they age. Be kind, you and I will get like that too.
  • Drinking is not the answer, its a temporary pass to forgetting
  • Butterflies in stomach is a good test to know that you are growing. No action in tummy, no good. 
  • There will always be someone better than you, someone not. Comparing - something i do a lot will only make u green, someone is looking at u and thinking the same thing about you.. lucky she.. its a relative life and there is nothing you can do
  • Pace it. you will get what you get, when u get it. and there is nothing more one can do about it
  • Breathe. Deeply. awarely. there are miracles in there. 
thats all for the now from sadhu me

Friday, May 20, 2011

Detachment is power

Can I ?

1.07 am the To Do list had shrunk itself down.  The Apple had been loaded, images transferred, the dinner made and eaten, the goodnights done. Demands of the world faded like smoke and the peace of the night was a silent presence.

My hands reached for the carelessly tossed book on the bed. For a lark I closed my eyes and made a silent prayer.

Dear uni. For this night and for today, let me open the page on something that I need to re-remember.

Breathed in and out, with the book reclining on my belly and eyes closed. Feeling rather than seeing, I reached once more for the book and opened it up
Quoting from Wayne Dyer, You’ll see it when you believe it

‘………….. For me, this is the essence of a marriage relationship at a conscious loving level.  The ability to suspend judgment about how the loved ones should be conducting his or her life, and to love that person as is, is a valuable exercise in detachment. Suspending judgment means honouring her need and right to be on her path according to her own inner directives without my uninvited input. Suspending judgment means also to honour my need and right to feel what I am feeling without judging my feeling as right or wrong. This is unconditional love for myself and my loved one. Unconditional love does not demand that one of us be ’right’  and one of us be ‘wrong’. When you are strongly attached to judging anyone, you are not defining him or her, you are defining yourself.

…….Since I have become less attached to making others wrong and myself right, it is much easier to be with people who view life differently from the way I do. When I do slip into judgment I find that I am much gentler and easier on myself. I  allow myself to have that burst of inner anger for a fleeting moment and again when I allow the anger to seep in, paradoxically it goes.

……..My detachment does not meant that I am uncaring. I care immensely. In fact I care so much that I allow them to make their own way along their path, guiding them here and there, helping them to make responsible loving choices, catching them doing things right as much as possible and always reminding myself that I don’t own them, they own themselves……….’

Reading these words, made me change something. In a life situation where I did not know the answer, I am struggling with the decision of letting go and instead desperately seeking assurance that the end will be what I dream off. Detachment, is the cure? I wondered flopping my head and drifting to sleep.

Last night, I could feel a power back. A sense of acceptance, that made me remember that there is something larger working than me, that things happen when they do, that I can choose too, choose my feelings, my reactions and my choice and choose to not judge what I feel.

For a short time there was liberation
For a longer time there was peace.