apologies

Noted Slip 1 for the blog has happened. All last week and ironically it was a relatively simple week overall. Slept much and became a vegetable. 


There is something very wrong about the Libran vegetating mode. One does not move a muscle when you are in that zone. You just cant seem to move. and then they become a hyper ball of activity who cant seem to sit still. 


Well the weekend was a vegetable weekend. Managed to get a lot done though in that time line. 


Read and completed 2 books

DORK: The Incredible Adventures of Robin Einstein Varghese

by Sidin Vadukut -  This is one hell of a rib tickling book to read. similar to the tale spun by the chap who wrote anonymous lawyer. Delves into the brain of a consultant who is so obsessed with the clients, proving himself better than the others, the boring work and the perks of the job.. loved reading it and wanted to be a consultant myself- though shamefully enough only and only for the money of it. The remainder was all a bullshit kind of a life to lead. 


Time of Seige- Gita Hariharan- Visually descriptive it transported one to the world of  JNU, professors and their laid back lives that delve too heavily into the ideology of issues left me more fatigued than passionately aroused about anything at all. Pointless kind of a read, but the images tended to stay. 


More importantly it was the time to see all the oscar movies. The most moving thing about the entire movie list was that most of them were true stories. Tales of extraordinary lives. As I heard Mira Nair qoute sometime these week. Stories of outliers, is what her movies are about. Except each outlier, does not consider herself to be an outlier at all rather that is her world. A world made my making new rules, and not succumbing to the known. 


Blind Side, Invictus, Precious, Away we Go, Inglorious Bastards, Milk .... each were stories of heroic 1 person achievements.  


Started with 


- The Blind Side - Hmmm well not sure if Sandra Bullock deserved the oscar for this one but the movie was well made. The actor playing Big Mike is such a gentle giant that you want to step into the screen and hug him for being him. But a movie that told the tale of heroism without getting rhetoric even once.


- Invictus- Madela the man the human being, the leader the visionary. The patience the faith the wisdom. Who makes them become like that. How? Like really how can someone be so shanti is beyond my comprehension.


Precious and Inglorious. - Technically fiction but Precious is a tale of every day women the world over and Inglorious has a Valkeriye that was based on a true story. Courage and crime. The ability to do more ever so more when you keep hitting rock bottom was amazing to say the least.


Milk- The absurdity of gay laws and how we are still trapped in that mould remains mind boggling to me. Someone I know thinks that gays should be slapped and asked to get on with it.What ever in the world that means is beyond my thinking. 


Leaves me as a person with 2 very very tempting choices. One path leads to the MBA, the degree, the course, the money, the world seen from the back seat of a fancy BMW while I type on the Black berry, hollowish from within. The other, the world of being someone unconventional and a bit out of the ordinary, with no guarantee what so ever that I shall be the next story of courage, or someone "who tried"


Interestingly, almost each person in these movies did not start with a heroic journey to be completed but just choose different in each moment, the moments followed each other to string together a life that made all the difference.

the start of the start?

Fingers crossed, green chillies and limes, nazar lena, dahi and cheeni eaten before an exam, the fabled kala tikka, am thinking of each of the silly superstitions and rituals that I know off and  mentally casting them around me.

The start of a new start seems to be semi peeping out this spring and checking if its conducive to blossom just yet. Am letting the little spring be, for the now. Ssssshh be careful now .................we dont want to jinx it already.

The past few days have seen some good happen, the wheel of life seems to have a new current to it.

Just watching it for the now.

A lazy oscar weekend awaits before a well deserved holiday. Am a lazy stretched cat today.

the world from a resteraunt owners eyes

Mr. Post It and me were trying in vain to carry on a conversation at one remote corner of this nice quiet place. Each time, we reached the most interesting part of a story, the entire resteraunt would erupt into loud Ravan type of laughter accompanied by chuckles, a round of back slapping and twittering womanly noises.

Ugly green dinosaur print man, with big belly and bigger laugh was managing to drown out the conversation on every single table. Silencing him was not an option so we did the Gandhi route of exiting sans violence. Only to bump into the owner. A very good looking world weary kind of a affable mallu man, who he informed us, almost always sneaks out of his resteraunt the moment he sees either one of these enter

A.  The luncheon ladies

Come in a pack. Sole agenda to out smart the other. Only ammunition knowledge about the food they are about to eat and declare how it is so not comparable to what they ate in Toorkeey, Spain, and when all else fails say Euuurrroooppeeeee in a long sigh.

Questions asked by them include- what lettuce do u serve, the host often to have fun cooks up a variety on the spot say "Rumanian with slight olive undertones" and watches in satisfaction as lady one squirms, darts a look at lady 2 to see if she knows any better. Hesitates and ponders what shall be an appropriate reaction disgust or gleeful enthusiasm before usually venturing to order a Ceaser salad without pineapples, walnuts, lettuce, dressing, bread or tomatoes.

Spotted by - Frantic use of blackberry. Dropped exactly at the door, general air of immense anger at their lives and having to have to eat this crappy lunch. Mini war zones the battle for the cheque is a treat to watch.

B.   Oye Dude, Aur Bata

     

Ah! These are the ones that drive him out of the resteraunt. They dont care what they eat, how they eat or if there is lettuce or a chickens acidic stomach there.

Arrive in small groups. Make up in volume for low numbers. Ensure they speak more than the other person, before proclaiming how good their life is. Are direct off springs from the Greek Gods and blessed with the Midas touch, evident in how every single thing is always rozy and glowing.

Predominately married, with the wife/bhabhi/Mrs back home. Occasionally the female is permitted a visit to the "outside" world, provided the man orders for her and ticks her posture, eating manners, conversational skills or inability to shush the child audibly or vide the eye movement look

Girl friends are invited instantly on day one. This day almost also never happens

C.  The Married People

Married people and By Products.

Dead give aways are

---- the time taken to choose a seat (anything to give them something to talk about for 2 min)

---- silent war about who gets to feed the child

---- puppy dog looks given to the waiter, we are married please please please can u entertain us

---- obsessive silent anal reading of the menu followed by detailed carefully planned family budget order

---- post order adjust chairs to gaze at remaining people and give wistfully wobegone looks to merry ppl.

D.    FEMALE DARE DEVIL

FAST WALK. BAG SLAMMED ON TABLE, PHONE AND CAR KEYS DISCARDED. WAITER SIGNALED.

Crew on attention. This is a volcano.

Enforce evacuate mode asap.

step 1- place menu water and leave

step 2- get order and leave

step 3- watch the anger give way to hurt to rejection to first tear drop to weepy nose to sunglassed placed on face

Step 4- place tissue on table and Ruuuuuuuuuu nnnnnnn

Step 5- Watch the phone being retrieved and adoring sms sent

Apparently resteraunt's are favorite post break up/lets break up/shall we think about breaking up/this is a night to discuss are we breaking up/ so will not ever break up etc conversations. Women cry, men drink, the owner takes himself yet again outside!

    

Yeh hai India meri jaan

Last night as i was driving back at mid night from a movie, two little men, big boys zoomed by. The sight of them made me smile. They for that moment were India, representing the two different sides that I had seen and witnessed last evening.

The pillion with a Bob Marley haircut a jacket carelessly slouching on his shoulders. The back of the jacket embossed with a bright red Harley Davidson imprint, the rider had his face thrust into the road and was spinning probably his DAD's ancient Bajaj scooter for all the life the scooter could emerge.

I smiled at their youth, the innocent aping of the west, the Indian Bajaj scooter accepted as a tradeoff for style and the Indian bending of the helmet less driving adding to the audacity of it all.

Witnessed two Indias yesterday, one left me amused, the other touched.

MM and I landed up at this place called "HINT". Turned out to be ladies night and what a spectacle we got to see.

The table next to us had three DELHI girls. Each of whom was playing the "lets see who can drive the waiter mad game" by shrieking. Dressed in their best heels and glittery clothes they sat like puffed up pigeons waiting for someone to notice.

Sadly for them, the table adjacent was occupied by a couple. The woman represented "Blore" for me. Noodle strap black dress, with the plastic straps showing, the mangalsutra dangling in between and gold jhumkis. This balanced with a lament in heavily accented South Indian English "Huuneey you left the ciggies in the car da" while she proceeded to convince him to groove for the rest of the night

Table 3 was the most entertaining. One chikna boy. Very very fair, spiked hair and body hugging T shirt. surrounded by 1,2,3,4 and 5 chikni terms (sorry know it is racist. not intentional though) who never spoke but squealed at intervals of 3.5 minutes. The exact time it took them to arrange themselves in various permutations and combinations around the chikna never shaved boy man.

While I was noticing all these interesting case studies, MM was drooling at another spectacle all-together. His eye brows disappeared into his curly hair and he stared, stating this is an amazing place. HUH??? What? WHY? You payed 700 bucks for a crap orange juice and vodka?? what the hell are u referring to....

Then I followed his gaze.

The dance floor was empty. The "we are so cool, check us out crowd with sunglasses on head and nipples thrust in various angles" crowd glued to the bar. However, everyones eyes were doing this strange dance. Darting to the floor and the drink, sneaking glances before gazing sheepishly at the date.

Object of lustful stares

2 immensely free spirited women, who dirty danced and kissed with wild abandon on the floor!! The men were hooked and how.

Infact one brave fellow decided to convert the two some to a threesome and was promptly banished. Needless to say in all this, me with my chappals and more brains than brawn walked out feeling very out of place.

Road Movie. Was the entertainment two for the night.

India two loomed out from the canvas, grabbing you with its imagery. The silent expanses saying more than the dialogue's. Dev Benegal, said what Swadesh said in 4 hours by simply showing us the silent haplessness of the Rajasthani nomadic tribes in their search for water, in the empty eyes and the creased faces.

Abhay Deol representing the urban youth, much like the crowd I saw at Hint was ill equipped to handle the odd balls that India threw at him. Be it the caustic tounge of the dhaba boy, the overpowering familiarity that each of his hitch hikers seemed to slip into or the sheer simplicity with which his road romance accepts the inevitable. He almost always is the recipient of the journeys experiences never the creator.

_______

The reason for this post is neither to critique Hint or applaud Road Movie.
Rather is simply to cheer the kalidescope that is India. It has not managed a very balanced growth but has allowed freedom to occur. It remains a place, where in some select pockets two women can feel strangely secure being themselves in the middle of a vast crowd. It remains a place, where in some pockets a women is raped for simply coming in the path of a drunk cop on a lonesome night.

Where 700 is spent on a drink and where that is the salary of our domestic help
a young india where majority of the youth is finding its identity in being cool
and a few are finding it in being themselves, their different selves

That is why the Bajaj scooter -Bob Marley and Harley Davidson made me smile. Was the perfect bhel puri mixture to everything the evening bought to life.

thodha Indian thodha western., total bindass.

India for me is the wise grandmother, smiling an indulgent smile as the new teenager India stands at the mirror fretting about her pimple. The granny is wise, knows it is a phase, this too shall be absorbed forming one more crease in the ever expanding saree.

Laptop errors

Was dying to blog today but the lap top is not taking power

saving power to get it to the shop

shall have to wait for tomm for the blog to be posted

dear god

Hi there. 

Been a while since i connected to you, you see had just about lost faith a while back. am not sure where i am in that department for the now, but felt like saying hey. so here it is. 

I think someone has stolen my spirit and i miss it so. apparently you are the person who makes them and was looking for a duplicate or replacement.  You see i used to be a happy person, used to laugh a whole lot and not worry to much about this or that. Would flop on street corners, talk to strangers because somewhere i knew that you were hanging about like an invisible mesh. 

Dont get that feeling these days. Am worried and anxious. about a lot of stuff.  Machku u sent like a god send to make let me smile at her silliness, but took her away as simply as u sent her. 

The only place/person I am easy around is also the only person who gets the most hurt by me. I am lost in the grey area between faithful patience and inconsolable sorrow about me. Narrow minded and shallow have become, even this was never me. 

Am not sure what to ask you for, if anything at all. 

Can you just return the goofy grins. for now that will be all.

 

from me to me

This one is for me. 

It is Monday morning, almost 12 am and am at home. Just typed in my todo list and aside from a few administrative stuff to close the application, the only other things left are closing loops on meeting people and securing some work, any work.

The MBA deal is almost over. feel empty now that it has been filed. scared and tensed. not so much for the admission itself but for what looms beyond that. the path i may be willingly putting myself on. The essay writing was a reflection page. Was humbled by how little in terms of external achievements I had to list, had a story that made sense to me from my heart space, but not more beyond that. 

made me feel a bit like flatulence, but that I know is not me. See me searching for a job, a course, or even at work am the quintessential excel sheet worker. Am not a work shirker nor lazy at getting stuff done. just stubborn about working at something i like in a environment i like. Will a MBA give me that? Dont know.

Was sitting in my ex office on Friday. Landed there for a lark, was waiting for some friends to complete their work and read NY Times to keep myself entertained. Writers sitting in NY, were opinionating on matters as diverse as gender divide in Yemen, getting panel discussions going, and there may be no action but the canvas of operations was wider, much much wider.

This is y i want to go. Leave India for a bit. not because i have anything against it, but just the desire to expand me, my canvas and the people i know. Yet, selfish as i am want to do all this, while securely rooted in some sense of a stable relationship that i can come home to.

The application has left me empty. Now looms the challenge of sorting out what next, filling the days with work, getting an office space to work from and enough connected dots to make me feel alive. Am crying as i type this. and really dont know y.

There is something much much deeper than this that is out of my depth. MM and I have been spending almost all our freetime together since October or even before that. He is my closest friend in the entire world. Knows me at times better than myself, my fears, my lies, my worries has more faith in me than me. is in love with me, and wants to marry. the forever n ever n ever n ever kinds. 

We are good together. We really are, in terms of trust, conversation, interest can spend time without getting on each others throats and have for years.  As for me, I love him back, for being who he is, for what we share, for the rock he is in my life. 

Yet there is only one ripple in this whole set up. We are chalk and cheese. He is utterly convinced in his DNA that this is why we work and me that is why we do not, will not work. For those who know me, this is stale news. We have been here several times. only know at 30 and 28, it is no longer funny. 

Each of us needs to be able to move on, marry, get the complete love and adoration of someone else. He so deserves that for being an super incredible human being, I do too for being a wild weird one. We cant be that for each other, or so i believe. huge huge mistake on my part or not? dont know.. 

all i know that not having the freedom to share my life with him, turns me into this. a weepy lost machine. The fact that the external world is shrinking, makes it even harder for me to let go, dont want to let go, he is my best friend and we have not even fought for the impassee to have to happen.

But he does not see me as a friend, sees me different. what do we do? how do we balance the beauty of what we share in the here and now with the different dreams we have for the tomm. Blanketing the other person seems cruel and heartless. Y, when you hardly ever get someone ever with whom you can even get an iota of this. 

The house feels silent minus machku singh. 

with the MBA application done life feels silent for the now with no real agendas to fill

painted the wall blue last night, did not realize the colour had soaked so deeply in

Excitement

A relaaaaxed day today after a long long time. Just a few trivial things left to do for the apps, some uploads and some couriers and am done. The rest is up to the other dimensions

Helped in doing up someone place today. was fun picking up knick knacks, and deciding where they should all go. am still weary of my laptop so am not going to post a long one today. the lap top fatigue continues.

On the positive, am off to Mumbai booked my tickets and looking forward to a train journey after a long long time ;-) Seeing I am Sam, wonder how come I have not seen it till now. Saw three kings as well.. darn good and Striker. fell asleep more my sleepiness than the movie to blame.

hung out with a Kitten again and missed Machku to death. The silly kidnapper shows no sign of returning. More later when the fatigue abates. To relaxing on a weekend. it is a good idea

OOOOOOOOOOOH before I forget, am wall painting today ;-) ;-) yummy

it over

This is it.
Think I am going to finish the application today
am exhausted. never ever again
need a 48 hour lap top break
and a 45680800229900453432 hours of nature and wind and sea and breeze
Y am i doing this to myself? Pray tell me

One year is more than enough to do this
How do people do this year after year?

things i dont understand

A random lists of things that never seem to make any sense for me

• Lift man- that old about to topple over and die man that has been employed for the sole purpose of floor number. Everyone can press the floors numbers and am sure that disabled people also have some way of doing so. 
• Cinema usherer-  They check the ticket at the entrance to the complex and then again at the hall, then the need to recheck if I am indeed me, at the time of sitting on my seat makes no sense. The torch guy, who would when i was a kid at least walk me to my seat was a different story.
• Tongue piercings- First of all OUCH!!!! and y in the world would u want something metallic all the time. How do you kiss or eat or do anything?
• Coasters- I get it... dont pounce on me. get the value it brings, the ring marks, the table wax getting all mushy but really can we stop it there please
• Men with pocket combs, with comb peeking out
• Gym preening- staring at your tummy after each set.
• Buying large belts and then looping the belt twice over
• Beards that hang off the chin, osama does not set fashion trends
• Polka dots- SPECIALLY polka dotted sardar turbans
• Miniature dogs- Chuwabas
• Eating like a lady, with the fork and knife, for each round.
• Scratching your balls and hand holding
• Goldy Don- ello I am from Dubai, see I flash gold on my finger, wrist and all over
• Shirts not tucked in 
• Louis Vitton luggage collection
• Golf
• Diet Beer
• Sugarfree chocolate
• sport shoes with formal pants
• sunglasses in the night, perched on hair
• flossing
• matching shoes with handbags, hairband, wrist band and nail paint. Filing nails. hate filing nails
• Taboo on entering temples, if a girl has her period
• virginity
• Suicides and War. Unselfishness of soldiers. Heroic and something I never ever could do
• Size zero
• Plastic surgery for nose, ears and silicon
• RSS and shivsena and orthodox
• Malai and toast. Butter and Jam. White butter
• Plain milk
• Filmstars performing at weddings
• Mosquitoes
• Awards. What is the big deal about getting an award
• Aspiration to own a BENZ
• Forced marriages. Caste restrictions
• Milky tea
• Rabri
• Bengalis dress sense 

No Expectation No Frustration

Am learning this adage has a very effective application. It permits me to crusie a lot more without wringing my hands and creasing my forehead that earlier.  The trick is in having a lot of parallel events or plans circulating.  Pinning your hopes on one tends to backfire, this is the freelance mantra as well. You have no clue what shall or shall not translate into reality to send out feelers to almost anyone

.

For the last 24 hours, I am proud to announce that I am not recoiling with horror or spouting tears when things that looked rosy are not falling in place. 

The goa training did not happen. Am secretly glad it lets me give adequate attention to the mba nonsense and not bake in the hot as hell goa beaches. Blore is HOT right now, the sand near the sea shall not be much different

The lawyer did not meet me, someone did not buy onions, the yoga class did not happen, the trainer cancelled the appointment, some email reverts are awaited have been for a while, Lucy did not meet me for dinner, etc etc etc. And I am truly and completely fine. Hehehe, am the new Buddha ;-) all hail the arrival of the saint. Letting go and permitting things to transpire at their own time, nah that is a skill that shall take its own sweet time to happen.

Have no deep insight today, just a list of really insipid and obvious ones. 

• Dad dear had a mini car accident, someone trashed his car by driving into it while Dad was steering. He is shaken, bit bruised but all right. Bought home the truth about mortality that we ignore on a daily basis, and the value I place on their being around. Don’t live at home, am not the ideal daughter for miles, not very well behaved when I do meet them either, but the ability to pick up the phone, dial DAD and hear him is divine. Its like the pink teddy bear dotted baby blanket I got to use as a child, makes me feel the world is all right.      
• I work better at coffee houses than home. Think the next post shall be rating the cafes of IndraNagar. Makes sense to me to do so. 
• GR’s accident has left 2 of his fingers motionless, making this independent streak dependant on others. He is lucky lives with family and there are people around to ensure that he is taken care of. MM broke his leg last year, MM lives alone and has the house down up with low seating arrangement. In the nuclear families where we live, where official leaves are probably more sacred than reciting the Gayatri Mantra, taking care of someone while juggling the full blown demands of a job are impossible almost.  Don’t think traditionally the sick or the aged were that big a deal. My grandpa had a tough end to his life. Was paralyzed for years, was at home and everyone met him when they came to visit. Getting to die with your loved ones is not overrated. 
• Writing MBA essays is not that bad. Reading sample essays of others is atrocious. Makes you want to shoot yourself, for not feeding the starving kids of Uganda, Congo and Zaire, why the hell did I not undertake to teach the gardeners kids? At least should have brokered peace with the Hindu Muslim mobs during one of the oh so frequent riots, and SHOCKING – not even 1 like from 4 grandparents dangled me on the knee and told me about the empire they built. Tsk Tsk.. 

You miserable pathetic creature, you actually took vacations when there was work to do and expect the                   world to reward you for this IRRESPONSIBLE BEHAVIOUR, you are surely joking!!!!! Someone actually said cancelled trips, to complete work. L-O-S-E-R

• To do or not to do

My community who knows me is amused at my new MBA desire. Concerned, each of them are trying to warn me about signing up for life post the MBA. Me, for now am getting in and then seeing what happens.

Just to simplify the debate, here it is in my head.

Choice between the Ant or the Grasshopper- your vote goes to?

Do MBA	Don’t Do MBA
PROS	PROS
Lots of money= nest egg= travel=house=car	No loan, interest, or repayment
International work	Time to pursue lots of things
Get to travel  on company expense	No high heels credibility built with time
New experience, new friends	Free to choose a lifestyle
Learn something?	Consolidate India Career
Lower entry barriers, more options	Lots of maternity leave
Can make presentations	No pretense of wanting corner office
CONS	CONS
Live a corporate life	struggle to get big boys to take u seriously
HUGE loan amount	Financial strife
Wear high heels to work – yuck	International Break tougher to obtain
Brown skin acceptance issues	Scattered work flow
0 goofy percentage. Limited maternity leave	Earning in lower currency- bye bye bali
Be tied down to structure and rules	New experience –long gestation period
Conclusion – Trade off between Corp life that gives  you lots of money , Permitting you to travel lots,  with little time to do so	Conclusion- Money takes longer to come, travel hence infrequent, but lots of time to write these kinds of blogs!!!

               

Crunch Time

I work best when I work under deadlines. I work best under pressure. May be it is an indian school system thing, the whole year one can manage to happily scrape by without having to attend any classes, or really bother about understanding the concepts. Heck, have gone to college, read Catch 22 and laughed out loud in the middle of a Business Studies class because i thought the woman who taught was a nincompoop

All she would do is dictate notes and that is no manner of teaching at all. At least I think so. 

So deadlines. I hate them, i perform only under them. The MBA deadline is closer. and just exactly when there are a few days left for that to be finalized lo and behold i may be off to goa to do some work. Ha hahaa!!! such is life, when it happens it all happens together ;-)

What are my biggest accomplishments to date is what the MBA school wants to know. I  am not sure if it is a MBA  answer, but for me from inside the only accomplishment that i am truly proud of is the ability to discard that which did not feel right. Without looking back or being pragmatic. if it did not make me sing for joy, i did not plug into that world. That was the reason behind leaving job 1 at 23 and the legal law firms. i just did not see myself wanting to be the Partner, the fruit at the top of the ladder, was sour.

PS - writing blogs is way simpler than essays ;-( 

sourceless anger

ANGRY AT EVERYONE AND NO ONE

I have woken up today with anger pouring out of my pores. There is no reason except that yesterday is no different from today, that is enough reason for me to be mad at myself, my current life and jealous of anyone everyone living their lives. 

Face book can now be re-christened killjoybook. Sorry, have no idea why I am behaving like a petulant child but am sure that as the day progresses the reasons shall emerge slowly and steadily. 

The possible reasons for angst are simple; been since November that my daily routine has remained confined to this house. Patience Patience, i keep telling myself the tide shall change, but as I pretend to be the sea coral, am witness to the tide coming in and picking up all the other sea shells off the shore but me. 

See friends getting married, and showing pictures of snow ridden cars, see holidays, latest gadgets, and trips taken from firang locations. And I am stuck with my belief. Belief that this is the year of change, with nothing to show for it.

Reality is

- money is on the ebb, last bit of savings shall go this week

- the project flow is that annoying stage, almost there the last trickle

- the only exit route that i have is the silly MBA

- following your heart and choosing to not be a corporate is a STUPID, PATHETIC DECISION

- being a sheep rocks. you get fed, clothed, coffee and someone falls in love with u at the water cooler

- My world has currently shrunk to the size of a pea. A baby pea

And yea all the solutions are there, get a job, make peace, you wanted this, you choose this etc etc. That there are good things in the offing. But am on a lament today. 

The reality also is that the past 2 years have been FUCKING UNFAIR!  Job one the guy decided to let me go because he did not have the balls to avoid a conflict that was brewing. Cancelled a trip, dealing with a breakup and now jobless, I decided to take a leap and follow my heart. invested solid money and time, doing courses that I loved doing, searched and researched the kind of place I wanted to work for, ensuring that stability was the main stay of the picture. Took a massive pay cut, worked without benefits and it was all ok because there was belief in the system in the people.

Turned out to be misplaced. Things promised did not happen. Was turned into a sales person, not even getting a glimpse of the passion that was fuelling this dream. The boss made crap statements; the landlord wanted me out for corrupting the moral fabric of the building.

Cancelled the UK trip for a 2 time. Finances wavering. Heart still not buckling down. Dug down into the last bit of reserve energy that I had and got a JOB that I LIKED! Still insisted on following my heart. Loved the people. Gave my all to the job, seamlessly integrated there, aced the induction process, was honest, pleasant and did more than what was needed. Got this one after 4 rounds of interviews, one rejection and cajoling them into how this job was for me. Persistence, and Patience were learnt, were delivered.

Result - 5 months after hiring me they decide to close shop. After 17 years into fucking operations simple apologies, we can’t do this for you. Did not even have anger left in me by then. A hatrick is not the most fun event to occur in all circumstances.

So what then? Follow the heart? be pragmatic? Be real?

Did the GMAT. WHY? Just so I can get the degree, that lets people take me seriously. If you believe that this one thing, gives me a brain., fine I shall get that too. so the next time, you got to pay me a BOMB and treat me with respect. 

Despair and disillusionment. Love life buried below the ground. Clutching at straws, I restarted conversations again. In less than 6 months, an email with the same tone was being sent. Hey there, do you know of an opening? Is there someone who you know. ME and MY DIGITAL BEGGING BOWL.... went begging. 

Recession had curtailed purse strings and charity was not to be seen.

Screw them then. Screw people who have the power and the need, and who avoid you in times of need. Screw each of the bosses, who have let others feel the knife, while tucking their salaries in. Screw them all. Why this delayed anger this morning? Am not sure, should have been felt by me ages ago, but the dam has left itself loose and am venting. This feels good too... SCREW YOU'

But each of these people are doing just fine. Are happy, content, rich and travelling. 

Am here. STUCK

Y, because I am STUPIDLY wanting to follow my heart. Want to not be a corporate rat, want to live life on my terms, want to be able to do work that I enjoy and make money while doing it. Everyone seems to be glad to talk to me..

Sure, let’s do coffee some time

Dinner? 

I love your energy.... etc etc

Lines that get thrown all the time

When the crucial question comes.. What are we looking at as finances.. their nails. Toes and other body parts become enchanting and they cough. Clear the throat and like an Indian Court, set the date for a discussion in March? May? Let’s talk when I am back from EUROPE

Ah, no pause a moment sir; let’s talk, after I have fed ur head goo to the wolf in the zoo. 

Maybe it is time to call it a day. Tell the heart enough already please sit in a corner and suck your thumb. We are going to make money. To buy crap to feel good, to have a nest egg to do all these things.

We are going to go to INSEAD, and really pretend that we enjoy the program. We are going to go to a 5 year fancy international prison and make money. We are going to aim to enjoy the strapping’s that come with all.

Because my dear, to me is seems clear

the universe aint here

Its sense of humour has become caustically slow

And we sadly need to grow

To get on, get up, get a move

Get the essays and set the groove

March- between me and you

Can we make lots of money, honey?

Don’t care how, don’t care where

Want that phone and the prettier lens

The wait is over, the universe failed

Let’s chase success, let’s be staid

Be a sheep be a rat

Be anything but this lounging cat

In case you have not got it am pissed. 

holiday on holi day

Get up at 7 am sharp. Assess the arsenal that I had blackmailed dad into buying for me. Look at the Silver, the gold and the tiny balls of so called "pukka" rung to judge its potency, wish there was more to go around and head to the bathroom.

2 bags of ballons, a mad rush to find a tap that fit the balloons mouth, 1 roll of thread to ensure that each water filled bomb was secure. Watch with pride as the bucket filled up with red, orange, white and yellow shapes. admire the ones that grew to look like brinjals, some like bananas and laugh outrageously at the leaky ones with a tiny jet stream of water oozing out. Too funny they were, reminded me of men peeing on the roads.

all this done, while anxiously looking at the time. Hoping against hope that the colony hooligans did not arrive at your doorstep before you were ready to attack them back. Race against time, to get the dirtiest clothes out of the cupboard, smuggle in a few gunjias and vala it was time to play some serious kick ass holi.

Step 1- Get the bucket, the pichkari and the colours to the door
Step 2- Laboriously get the above, down three floors.
Step 3- Scream in horror, as the assholic friends jump you from below the staircase
Step 4- Yell in agony, as you watch every single one of the water balloons disappear in nano seconds, most hitting the road,the pavement, the floor anything but the target. So much for 3 hours spent at the tap
Step 5-  Swear revenge shall be yours. Tear open the evilest packet of colour- black/silver, mix it with the 2 most evil colour, dunk had on pavement goo, smear colour laced palms to make a gooey disgusting mix and run yelling towards the targets. Go for the neck, the ears, the teeth and the nostrils. Watch the end result with a thrill of victory
Step 6- Sigh of dismay as u are dunked with purple water, that is chilled and your victim gets the upper hand

Yup! I love holi. It is singularly the most fun, bizzare, rationale-less, nonsensical festival that there ever was.  The dhols of farmehouse parties, dunking people in pools of coloured water, the still pleasant sun.,  the hunger., the horrible bath that never seems to end and the layers of colour that stream off you.

The sleep that occurs for hours and the drowsy sensation in the evening, when battle scars are compared of whose neck is a deeper red, and laughing at the pink nailed boys in school the next day. Destroying school uniforms and watching in mock horror the gundas of the road who toss eggs at passing cars.

This heady combination of laughter, aggression, gentle colour tikas, the running and the playing, the eating and sleeping, the festive spirit, the only festival where u can do all that you want, where strangers can greet you, and passers by feel free to stop by and just meet you.

the one day, where you dont need permission to be simply mad. Boundary less maddness.
I miss you Delhi ;-( to playing a mad mad holi next year

1 month already ;-)

It has been a month since I started this Blog, exactly one month. 11 more to go and I am already in love with the process of making a blog on a daily basis. Most days posting something has been effortless, though a scan of the blogs past makes me sound like a super deep pensive sort of a person with little or no light moments to the day. So unlike the real me.

The inception of this excercise for me has made me think a lot more. Some days I wake up wondering what it is that I want to write about and on other days it has flown. The conviction that 2010 remains a year of immense change is still strong, this space shall let me document for me how the journey unfolds.

Interestingly today is also the last day of the month. 2 months and 2010 is 16.67% over ( did the maths using thye rug as paper) and the going has been well slow. But hey there have been good steps made.

• for starteres started the yoga journey
• begun fitness on a serious note
• freelance windows are opening and closing likle a well rehearsed ochestra, the conversations shall sort themselves out into real concrete work
• i feel positive, every day my optimism levels are sky high
• Machku singh, has learnt to sit, manged to not get adopted and still jumps into my lap the minute she sees me.
• MM, GR, Mr. Post IT remain staunch supports, Ms Body Shop decided to get married. Brother dear got all excited about his coming marriage and so lives are chugging along just fine

There is still lots more to do. Have a good feeling about March. The borad things to cover are (i) applications ,... I know i know stop talking and do them already. (ii) make serious money (iii) 1 trek/day trip and (iv) mumbai .. this all has to be done.

On urelated trivia, I have always loved the month of February reminds me of Spring and Mughal gardens. The fact that it is burning in Bangalore has npot dampened this at all

Trivia 2-

The walls of someone houses speaks volumes about who they are. Often people spend on getting the right couches and then are too lazy to bnother with the walls and all they have are some hideous flowers in a gold frame., a pic of some god and if you really really push it, then ONE marriage photo.

All the nicer houses are a collection of knick knacks., that speak abgout hte person., photos, art, some random poster, a baileys bottle with something growing out of it, a pencil box made from a discarded blue tumbler, a ashtray that u picked up in hampi, little thiungs that are not costly but tell the vistitor who youy are beyond the obvious. Unless there is nothing beyond the obvious ;-)

To newness, travel, pottery and abundance. Welcome March

silence confuses

Yesterday, a close friend came over for a short while. We hung out over coffee and chatted. Or rather each ranted about their own life. Their was a pause and with some music on, we just lazed. It unnerved him, the silence that is. He wanted to hear chatter, updates, asked what else several times, reaffirmed friendship status, talk about Vidya Balan, travel, books, everything anything but silence.

Silence with a friend is a decently accurate measure of how good the friendship is.

If you can be in a room, with someone and not necessarily feel the need to converse, yet know that you are not failing in your duty as a host or he/she in the role as a guest that is friendship. To be able to come over, and depending on the mood, be giggly like school girls, sympathetic listeners, the controlling monitors or just the silent watchers. It the balancing act that gives the friendship some depth.

Mr. Dependable is my silent coffee buddy. We can sit at the same coffee table, each doing their thing, pick up a conversation, laugh let it lead to others and then drop back into an amiable silence. Knowing that it is perfect to break whenever need be.

GR was a good silent guest last week. Mr. Postit is showing value of being that too. Never thought, the chatter box me would ever even ponder about this, but like my brother says living alone makes you value silence a lot more.

When brother dear would come home, he would walk around with a baffled look on his face, questioning why the house was so noisy.  Only now do I get, staying alone teaches you to make friends with silence, where it no longer seems the enemy that needs to be drowned with music or tv or ceaseless conversations. But can actually be enjoyed.

Am definitely growing old. Pass the wrinkle cream, please