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.

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. 

Hmm.

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
Balance

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
tonight

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

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
promise
because- Zindagi Na Banege Dobara!

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.

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.

Planed!

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

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.

tata

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

buzzzzzzzing

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

vipassana

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

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

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.

Prasad
Prerna
Prana
Pranay
Raadha
Radika
Rahul......

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.

. 

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.......

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

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
left

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 ...........

reading

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

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

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.