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