tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81917121883493798042024-03-19T18:36:45.995+05:30MemoryKeeperCreating makes memories. Writing is creating. Its a way of hitting pause and thinking of your life. Making memories everydayAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.comBlogger369125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-18515174406237323452015-02-04T12:57:00.003+05:302015-02-04T12:57:45.497+05:30an everyday day
I am waking up, the last few minutes before the eyes are waking up and the body realizing who it is. My body is stretching a little bit, seeking a familiar smell, curled like a ball the arms unravel from myself and reach out on the sheets. eyes shut, brain fuzzy it reaches out for you -- like a baby kitten seeking warmth
Waking up, shutting off the dreaded snooze post the mandatory 5 Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-71206694752971739442015-01-08T11:43:00.001+05:302015-01-08T11:43:12.964+05:30Get up. Get going
With the dawn of the new years, often there is a feeling
that life seems to pass by with us wanting more, dreaming more but achieving
not that much more.
As in I look back and the things that we had wanted for
ourselves – were largely what we will put down even now. Money, travel, love
and purpose. Fitness and adventure.
Yet somehow we have not moved beyond this desire. If I was to look Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-81592950728980398532014-12-11T17:22:00.000+05:302014-12-11T17:26:46.108+05:30Reality
Real life
My real life is this. I am me. 33, working in an ecommerce company, a mother to a lovely happy child, a wife to a person whom I was destined to meet. With vague notions of how interesting I am. Vaguer beliefs that there are deep layers to me.
My interests are undefined. For the now its an intention to get fit. In my future - I will be a dancer, a deep medidator, a shamanistic healerAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-4440256407015170682014-12-02T15:01:00.003+05:302014-12-02T15:01:32.459+05:30A speck is me
I am a speck in the cosmos.
As tiny as I feel a grain of
sand is on the beach.
The realization
that I am miniscule, tiny, irrelevant is strangely liberating. It re- emphasized
for me that no matter what I do, achieve
or create – the passage of time will erase it.
Everyone and everything around us is set to go. Evaporate.
Disappear. Your boss, your phone, your
pet, Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-50320281278335244932014-10-29T22:17:00.001+05:302014-10-29T22:18:19.662+05:30Sadhguru and Isha
We remember moments not days.
This was a statement, that a girl sitting next to me in class 7 wrote for me after we completed our semi final exams. I have no memory of her face or name but this phrase sat deep in my heart and head.
One moment I remember, is a teenager me, standing by the window in my parents home. Holding a black cordless phone in my hand and talking with utmost Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-88579065750640285032014-06-04T13:44:00.001+05:302014-06-04T13:44:53.770+05:30Corporate Mummy
I am back, exiting a lovely cocoon of motherhood and being at home, I find myself sitting at a greed faced cubicle, typing on a Window (yikes) laptop and thinking of a powerful reason why I should feel guilty about writing a blog post on a Friday afternoon. Clearly I didn’t think hard enough!
There are some absolutely delightful things that comes with working in a large place. For starters Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-52137301078280088302014-05-11T18:20:00.001+05:302014-05-11T18:20:26.834+05:30an aftermath of 2 states
I admit it upfront, I like Chetan Bhagat, there is something simple about it that appeals, a common sense that is direct and lucid. 10 years ago it wasn't that common to leave the path of money and venture into being a writer. It takes guts to trod the untrod path, and belief.
Ok I saw 2 states today and was reminded of the time when I read the book and could picture the events in my mind. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-48426731040679961052014-05-06T18:54:00.001+05:302014-05-06T18:54:02.921+05:30Corporate tales
I am back, exiting a lovely cocoon of motherhood and being at home, I find myself sitting at a green faced cubicle, typing on a Window (yikes) laptop and thinking of a powerful reason why I should feel guilty about writing a blog post on a Friday afternoon. Clearly I didn’t think hard enough!
There are some absolutely delightful things that comes with working in a large place. For starters Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-21011762254098556082014-02-03T19:36:00.000+05:302014-02-03T19:36:15.319+05:30A little lost
After a gap of a year I met an old friend from school. Its been a rather strange friendship, one that does not lend itself to daily chats or coffee meetings but a friendship where one meets, connects somehow knows something core about the other and then orbits off into their own world only to reconnect somehow sometime later again.
Today before I write anymore I feel compelled to share a littleAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-61807696916814520022013-12-16T17:29:00.001+05:302013-12-16T17:29:15.333+05:30Conjuring up 2014
Its December, the time of the year that lends itself to an afternoon spent in an armchair, gazing out at the view, with the nip of winter making you huddle a little deeper into the chair pulling the softness of the shawl tighter. Curling your feet in below your hips and warming your hands around the cuppa of hot cocoa.
Well none of the above is happening. I am instead plonked on a Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-66062854181287098002013-12-16T14:49:00.001+05:302013-12-16T14:49:29.197+05:30Appreciating Bangalore
I am going to live in Bangalore for a long time. If not Bangalore India for a long time. I have not had the balls to say that simple statement and let it be. To accept it without feeling a sense of dread creep up. Its time to say - make lemonade my lady with the Bangalore/ India lemon in your life.
For starters instead of constantly feeling that the grass is greener on the other side, I Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-276178316238320572013-12-10T15:30:00.002+05:302013-12-10T15:30:48.734+05:30Nameless
What are your dots? What are your lines?
How are you living... what troubles your mind?
Who is your confidant?
Who is your friend?
what are the dreams you are letting go off
What dreams are you willing to mend?
when will you wake up
and realise the time has come
To shake off the disbelief, dust off the crumbs
the mirror lies, all that you see, isnt all that there is
There lies inside, an Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-53159684218824616502013-12-06T23:11:00.001+05:302013-12-06T23:11:39.398+05:30Letting Go
Today was a normal day with normal things cluttering up time. Amongst the numerous things on the to do list, most of them trivial daily things was to share pictures of a dear aunt. (aunt sounds like such a formal distant kind of a term.. far away, like a strange pearl necklace wearing person with perfect hair) she wasnt an aunt but more a cute cuddly granny rolled into a friend.
My Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-16671344332050903522013-12-02T13:09:00.001+05:302013-12-02T13:09:34.248+05:30bucketing it
We sat down in the middle of a fancy club house. The agenda of the night was to make our bucket list. To ape the concept promoted by Hollywood and list down that which we thought we really wanted to achieve in life.
There were only two rules.
Rule 1 - That we would out down on the list things we really really really deep down wanted to do
&
Rule 2 - Every year we must aim to attain Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-88956912039143632252013-11-29T14:21:00.001+05:302013-11-29T14:44:53.908+05:30Love and Fear
Love and fear are two sides of the same coin.
This is a line that I had heard often and never really understood.
Now I am beginning to get a sense of it. A few years ago, life was lived fearlessly to a large extent. Living it on your own terms, doing things that you wanted to because you wanted to do it. Fear was scoffed at. If it existed it was minute in scope. it was the fear of reaching Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-20957077748551889032013-11-27T19:55:00.001+05:302013-11-27T19:55:31.742+05:30'Resume'ing my life
Yesterday my to do list looked something like this.
- Redo resume
- list top few places I would like to work
- Make an affirmation list - belief is the key
- list placement agencies to apply through
Today my to do list looks something like this
- Redo the resume
- list top few places I would like to work...
.......
.............
The resume. The C.V. The succinct document that in two brief Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-39594240025843805622013-07-24T15:06:00.001+05:302013-07-24T15:42:09.300+05:30Unraveling Traveling
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-92198246662660590612013-07-17T12:44:00.001+05:302013-07-17T12:44:53.073+05:30Re writing
I stare at the blank screen. Doubt plagues me, its been a long time since I wrote. A long time since I actually took the time to do the things on the to do list. A long time since I sat down and made a pause. A long time indeed.
Sitting here, an old foe creeps up. Does this blog really matter? Does anyone really read it? Should I not be writing something deeper. An article perhaps? A comment onAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-23619990166770001212012-09-17T11:39:00.004+05:302012-09-17T11:40:11.313+05:30Going Home to Come Home
Uprooting and Rerooting leaves one well............. rootless.
One stands in the middle of the new city that aims to become home, looking at the mass of people moving around, at people sipping coffee, at the easy conversation that seems to be there on most tables and knows that you are not “in” yet.
Yesterday, met two old friends who had come back to Bangalore after monthsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-20234677652476076142012-09-12T12:40:00.002+05:302012-09-12T12:43:06.555+05:30Re starting
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-42650791040669894032012-03-13T12:31:00.000+05:302012-03-13T12:31:49.734+05:30Connecting
I have a bias. Raised in a middle class India, family there was a line that was unwritten non questioned, clear. Taking drugs was bad. Not acceptable and people who did rely on them were somehow to be distrusted. pitied almost.
As one grew up. The straight line, managed to get blurred. Diversions appeared. Tolerance levels were rechecked and the unwritten rule faded. Part Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-21677187791698761312012-02-09T16:02:00.000+05:302012-02-09T16:02:07.219+05:30Whales have rights
Disclaimer - I am an animal person and vegetarian. I also think rescuing a dog from a burning house before rescuing the family album is a perfectly sane thing to do.
____________________________________
Sitting on the couch, reading the morning paper this morning lead to a rather unexpected event. A heated pre breakfast morning discussion.
What sparked off the debated was this article -http://Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-63732367637920735242012-02-08T13:55:00.000+05:302012-02-08T13:55:12.888+05:30India -tata tata bye bye
Indias GDP to slow down to 6.7%. 2 ministers found seeing porn in Parliament, sewage water coming in the taps of local residents, Yuvraj singh is upset at making the headlines for 2 days in a row over his cancer, skill levels in youth found to be inadequate, FDI flight is an issue the budget needs to address, tractor sales down as food prices head down, inflation capping itself but Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-30060778662068439492012-02-07T11:41:00.002+05:302012-02-07T11:41:33.644+05:30colony friends
Growing up was fun. Yawn. Relax am not going to go on lamenting about how childhood was so blessed, and how growing up isnt what it was meant to be. NOT WRITING ABOUT THAT!
This is an ode to an even simpler phenomena. Geographic friends
As a kid growing up in Delhi, the school was a place where people from diverse city areas came together. Some of these areas were so far away, that despite Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191712188349379804.post-6597101318348346582012-02-06T13:11:00.002+05:302012-02-06T13:13:43.277+05:30Thumping Down
Bulleters
The name pretty much sums it up.
Bulleters – a riding club for people with a passion for bullets. A group, where
words are replaced with thumping engine noises, the keeekeee, keeeeekkeeee of
the accelerator being pulled, dhakdhakdhakdhak dhaaaaaak dhaaaaak dhaaaaak
sounds, a flash and someone speeds by you, another moment and a turn looms up.
Sitting behind, holding on tight,
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00926927135241276550noreply@blogger.com0