Wednesday, October 15
If posts could kill...
I really wanna tell you guys about my roommate coz she is so mad. She is such a ludicrous specimen I can't believe it sometimes. She is a narcissistic bitch to an extent she can stand infront of the mirror for hours screaming how beautiful she is. She is just about 12 kilos overweight and her hair rivals Monica's humidity frizz. She can talk for hours and she can B.I.T.C.H! She most fervently believes she is 'intelligent'... better than me actually. And gets arrogant about things so wrong I don't know how to react to it at all at times. A stupid thing like what does 'sub-prime' mean... (low income really)... and she been going on for the last hour that its about the prime lending rate in India??? ... I am pretty sure to be able to say the three words 'prime lending rate' together is the zenith of her intellectual horizon in Business economics. Trust me there is nothing worse than dealing with arrogance for the lack of intelligence at the end of a tiring day... specially when it comes from a person who has 1.5 Lacs in debt and does not know it coz I dont think she can add up... smothers the life of me!
Get out. Get Lost. Get dead.
I am at a client site right now... have been here for two days now. I hate my office but honestly I'd give an arm and a leg to go back to that place. Never thought I'd say this... but its a better hell!!
I have worked like a dog the last week, having to be in office on Dushehra and the Saturday. Sunday just flew by and its not my fav days of the week anyway! The Monday blues get to me too soon. I either get depressed or start working from Sunday itself coz I am sressed, dreading the Monday.
So essentially I have slept at 3 yesterday morning. Have been in this alien place since 9... Its almost 6 in the eve and I am just half way through. And the client is a bitch who keeps reiterating the smallest details she has shared about her organisation and how I keep slipping over those. The fact that she has been working here for three friggin years and I saw the organisation chart just today morning has no bearing! So every hour or so she goes.... "But this is what I told you in the first meeting... But you remember? I had mentioned it when we discussed that subfunction under this discipline remember?.... But don't you remember I had scribbled these now-irrelevant-to-the-discussion details illegibly on one corner of your notebook... But this is what I have been saying from the very start no... that you need to make sense of an organisation structure under transition rt now, for which I have given you all the details, but myself have no clarity, but will get sarcastic and act smarty pants if you can't figure it out like this is what you were born for... But...." like her very own big fat butt!!! ...
And I hate back aches when I am working. The best part is it won't end here... I have a cumpulsory-to-attend fun office party in the evening. The last thing I want right now is my nastier-cousin-of-cruella-the-wicked-witch boss, who again is worse than her 2 million tons ass (how on earth can one eat so much!!) and corny jokes!! And the main course is this 'thing' where everyone in the team is supposed to write one thing they admire about everyone else... it'll all be collated and circulated to all... So no wonder why I am the only one whose inputs will prolly never go. I might just start like, 'Dear M, I really like how your agreession bordering-on abrasive-and-abusive manages to get people to do your work on time and get it out of the way so they don't have to speak to you.' or 'Dear N, I like the fact that you still manage to have some friends coz you see I have found myself increasingly incapable of talking to you as your conversations numb my brain to a cauliflower.' or 'Wow!! that fake accent of yours... you did fool me for the first ten minutes you know!!' .... you get the drift rt?
Blah!
Blah!
Kill me!
Monday, October 13
(What) To be or (What) not to be
I have this place inside me. Its a place I visit in dire situations. I just go inside and say these lines ... "I need help. So please help me." and I get the response... "I am right here, tell me." I like this place. I like the friend I find there too.
These are times when lonliness somehow just gets to me. I find that I am unable to explain to most who and how I really am. And I wonder... is it really so difficult?
I like people. I grow through them. I like meeting and talking to them coz I like to know their stories. I learn from them.
I am very cautious about sharing mine. Hardly any know the truth, the whole truth... I don't like talking about my past. It does not serve any purpose.
"I am too lazy to hold a grudge" - Sid (Ice age 1). Loved that guy in the movie... loved his line. And found one day... damn! that's so me. I can't hold a grudge no matter how hard I try. I can't remember most times why I fought with someone. Its not a good thing because others do and they don't appreciate it when you go back to them smiling and behaving like nothing happened they feel I am taking them for granted or for a ride. No one wants to believe that I am just plain stupid and I forgot.
I take risks... biiiiig emotional risks. Some pay off... some don't. No matter how bad it hurts, you will mostly find me picking up the phone and talking to people first. I believe that people need to communicate. Everyone wants one thing over everything else... they need to be understood. They need to feel you listened to them without any agenda and take their words just as they mean em... with no added flavor. I like to give people this chance. Irony is most don't take it coz they just don't believe they have one ever.
I believe in second chances. I think they bring the best gifts life has to offer. They reinstate the faith that one can make things work and that its ok to fail the first time. My mom wanted an abortion when she was carrying me... I so would not have been on the planet but for the one I got!
I think too much.
I love to laugh. I hate my job mostly because there is no time left for fun. Everyone's cribbing and losing their temper and being sadists and calling clients names... the one girl I thought was funny only cribs now. I just shut up and stuff my ears with headphones!! Thank God for Violet.
I like to love. And its very puzzling sometimes to see how much people resist being loved. At times I have asked people to let me love them, just the way I want to. And that they can just be. I don't want anything else. And they all go out of their way to prove to me how it will not work. How suddenly everything assumes an agenda. And I fail to explain to them that its very very simple. Love is very simple. No harm meant... but then its difficult to trust someone who may love you just like that!
I cannot unlove people. Once loved, they always stay loved. It was never love, if it died rt? I would like all of them... the ones who walk with me (I am so grateful to God for them, few but enough)... the ones who walked some distance sometime... all of them to know I will always love them.
I can die for people I love... ok ok I know this sounds filmy. But I have tested my altruistic traits and have always come one up. I love doing things for people I love... I like surprising them with small gestures... my love is very effervescent! If you don't allow me to express it, it gets stifled. It gets depressing. I love hugs... the spontaneous kisses. Probably its this damn altruistic idiocy, that makes me think about how bad the other is feeling and think about my own self later! T says my empathetic tendencies will be the death of me one day.
I hate sarcasm. I don't like the kind of people who make others feel bad about themselves... This is the only thing that can kill my love, temporarily. I can't be with people who need to suck positivity out of others to stay happy themselves. I can't be with someone who'd put all those words together to make me feel how I was so pathetic at something, how I din't make the cut and hence how I am not supposed to be a part of the elite... I am very scared of such things coz more often than not I will believe them. I trust people implicitly when I love them and their words, if casually used can really hurt coz I will believe whatever they say about me. Sanity will prevail... after some time and good amount of effort. In time I'll understand their reasons as well... I actually wait for the day I can smile again when thinking of what I'd felt earlier. And I am ready to be friends again coz I know why they may have done whatever they did. Like I said... can't hold a grudge.
I don't know how much of the above is good for me... and how much should be changed. I get really confused sometimes. I land myself in a vulnerable situation more often than not and I find people taking the satisfaction of knowing they din't come back first. I find people seeing this as a sign of weakness... being unable to understand that its something that just happened, lets learn from it and move on. They can't see that I am asking them to tell me what I did wrong and that I will really listen to them and implement it. They can't see that I am willing to listen first before being listened to. More often, I wouldn't expect them to listen at all.
There is just one relationship I have, where all this has been done and it has worked beautifully. Its my most cherished relationships rt now. And I so hope to God it stays that way. I turn to it for faith and friendship very often. It makes me believe that such a bond can exist. It gives me hope. It is one place in this planet where I can make my mistakes... be me... and I know I will not be given up on. Reaffirms my faith in my own soul.
Like someone says... when you feel lonely and an outsider, all you need to remember is that you haven't found your family yet! I have one in my family now... with me that makes it two. And I like large families... Here's to hoping in some time soon... I'll find another and then another one of my kin.
These are times when lonliness somehow just gets to me. I find that I am unable to explain to most who and how I really am. And I wonder... is it really so difficult?
I like people. I grow through them. I like meeting and talking to them coz I like to know their stories. I learn from them.
I am very cautious about sharing mine. Hardly any know the truth, the whole truth... I don't like talking about my past. It does not serve any purpose.
"I am too lazy to hold a grudge" - Sid (Ice age 1). Loved that guy in the movie... loved his line. And found one day... damn! that's so me. I can't hold a grudge no matter how hard I try. I can't remember most times why I fought with someone. Its not a good thing because others do and they don't appreciate it when you go back to them smiling and behaving like nothing happened they feel I am taking them for granted or for a ride. No one wants to believe that I am just plain stupid and I forgot.
I take risks... biiiiig emotional risks. Some pay off... some don't. No matter how bad it hurts, you will mostly find me picking up the phone and talking to people first. I believe that people need to communicate. Everyone wants one thing over everything else... they need to be understood. They need to feel you listened to them without any agenda and take their words just as they mean em... with no added flavor. I like to give people this chance. Irony is most don't take it coz they just don't believe they have one ever.
I believe in second chances. I think they bring the best gifts life has to offer. They reinstate the faith that one can make things work and that its ok to fail the first time. My mom wanted an abortion when she was carrying me... I so would not have been on the planet but for the one I got!
I think too much.
I love to laugh. I hate my job mostly because there is no time left for fun. Everyone's cribbing and losing their temper and being sadists and calling clients names... the one girl I thought was funny only cribs now. I just shut up and stuff my ears with headphones!! Thank God for Violet.
I like to love. And its very puzzling sometimes to see how much people resist being loved. At times I have asked people to let me love them, just the way I want to. And that they can just be. I don't want anything else. And they all go out of their way to prove to me how it will not work. How suddenly everything assumes an agenda. And I fail to explain to them that its very very simple. Love is very simple. No harm meant... but then its difficult to trust someone who may love you just like that!
I cannot unlove people. Once loved, they always stay loved. It was never love, if it died rt? I would like all of them... the ones who walk with me (I am so grateful to God for them, few but enough)... the ones who walked some distance sometime... all of them to know I will always love them.
I can die for people I love... ok ok I know this sounds filmy. But I have tested my altruistic traits and have always come one up. I love doing things for people I love... I like surprising them with small gestures... my love is very effervescent! If you don't allow me to express it, it gets stifled. It gets depressing. I love hugs... the spontaneous kisses. Probably its this damn altruistic idiocy, that makes me think about how bad the other is feeling and think about my own self later! T says my empathetic tendencies will be the death of me one day.
I hate sarcasm. I don't like the kind of people who make others feel bad about themselves... This is the only thing that can kill my love, temporarily. I can't be with people who need to suck positivity out of others to stay happy themselves. I can't be with someone who'd put all those words together to make me feel how I was so pathetic at something, how I din't make the cut and hence how I am not supposed to be a part of the elite... I am very scared of such things coz more often than not I will believe them. I trust people implicitly when I love them and their words, if casually used can really hurt coz I will believe whatever they say about me. Sanity will prevail... after some time and good amount of effort. In time I'll understand their reasons as well... I actually wait for the day I can smile again when thinking of what I'd felt earlier. And I am ready to be friends again coz I know why they may have done whatever they did. Like I said... can't hold a grudge.
I don't know how much of the above is good for me... and how much should be changed. I get really confused sometimes. I land myself in a vulnerable situation more often than not and I find people taking the satisfaction of knowing they din't come back first. I find people seeing this as a sign of weakness... being unable to understand that its something that just happened, lets learn from it and move on. They can't see that I am asking them to tell me what I did wrong and that I will really listen to them and implement it. They can't see that I am willing to listen first before being listened to. More often, I wouldn't expect them to listen at all.
There is just one relationship I have, where all this has been done and it has worked beautifully. Its my most cherished relationships rt now. And I so hope to God it stays that way. I turn to it for faith and friendship very often. It makes me believe that such a bond can exist. It gives me hope. It is one place in this planet where I can make my mistakes... be me... and I know I will not be given up on. Reaffirms my faith in my own soul.
Like someone says... when you feel lonely and an outsider, all you need to remember is that you haven't found your family yet! I have one in my family now... with me that makes it two. And I like large families... Here's to hoping in some time soon... I'll find another and then another one of my kin.
Thursday, October 9
Nostalgia...
is something I've been having a lot lately. Its Dushehra today. The whole country is on leave and I am sitting in office trying to go through the career ladder framework of a client. Apart from other stuff... which is enough to expand and fill all time available including the weekend. Its October and we officially enter the 'Killathon' months. People will soon start walking on all fours in office... everyone's bending over the back.
I am missing home today. And that just does not mean Pune. I am missing the times when I looked forward to these times of the year with impatient yearning. I looked forward to taking the rickety bus ride to Kanpur from Raebareli ... the seemingly endless waiting till all the activities building upto those final moments would end and the joy ride begin.
I am missing the excitement of wearing new clothes... and how Mom would so many times buy dress material and stitch clothes for us... we could not afford the fancy clothes in those big shops but Mom more than made up for it. The sweets that women in the house made... and our attempts at stealing the yummies from the big aluminium jars. We were not to eat them till the Pooja was over... the Gods had to be offered the goodies before the greedy demons could be satisfied. Nevertheless we almost always got to them before Ganesha did.
And the final moments... the grandeur of the huge parks where the 'Ravana' effigy would be erected... it took months to make and was a clandestine activity... not to be seen till the very last day possibly. There always is a fierce competition between various areas in the city on whose Mr Bad is the best... there are bets riding on the results. And thousands of rupees go into making and erecting the effigy which then burns after 'Bhagwan Ram' shoots a burning arrow through its navel!
The end result was we'd wait with baited breathe for the one in our pada or nagar to come out... and unanimously believed we were the best in the whole of Kanpur. So finally the day would come... the house would be in utter chaos with everyone asking everyone else to do everything and then finally... by noon time people would have bathed, clothed and ready for the pooja (several hours late ofcourse) ... the songs hymns would be sung, a diya lit in every room of the house, second round of pooja and finally would come the time when we could eat. The kitchen would spout pooris, chhole, raita, halwa... till one could not eat any more. The elders would take respite in siesta and we would run out to have a look at all the preparations going on everywhere.
The evening was when we all got ready with coercion or cajoling. We wore our clothes and waited till the adults managed to do the same and then all would set out for the bada maidan. I remember how amazing the shops selling paani puri, khasta puri, chhole samosa, you-name-it-they-had-it assortment of eatables looked. The wooden thelas (platform on wheels) carrying the local fizzy drink called 'Kancha' (Marbles) which was such a rage then... It was called kancha coz they sealed the bottle neck with a marble... And you had to pop it in to the bottle to drink. I remember knowing I probably had just about ten rupees in all to spend and always came back home with money still left coz I just could not decide in God's name what to eat and what to sacrfice.
We would all gather on Rajjan Chacha's roof top and watch the aatishbaazi competition (Fireworks) ... we'd just keep asking... 'Ma rawan kab jalega... bolo... ab kitni der ho gayi hai?' and granny would tell us the muhurt had not come yet! damn... how much waiting had one to do in this whole Dushehra business... painful!
Finally the muhurt would come... and it seemed like everyone in the park, which had people in thousands would know somehow... the rath (open carriage) carrying Mr Ram would make its way through the crowds towards the Ravana... oh and I forgot to tell you... the statues erected were really really tall... anywhere between 80 to 120 feet, held up with ropes etc...I have pictures as a kid standing next to one just about reaching the curvy tip of Mr Ravana's fancy red shoe.
So Mr Ram would then take out his bow and arrow, light its tip and aim. The public would start roaring and much to everyone's delight Mr Ram would miss... It obviously would take several attempts before a Bindra happened... in fact many a times it would be the ropes, the dry grass around the statue doused with diesel catching fire that came to Mr Ram's embarrassing rescue.
Finally it would begin... the MOMENT that all had been waiting for would begin... the effigy would burn and the fire crackers and bombs inside would blast... so a head went off here and we'd go Haaaaaeeeeeyyyyyyy and a limb blew there and heeeeeaaaaaaaayyyyyyy.... It was crazy, deafening and wild and it lasted... they stuffed them Ravans with so much ammunition the damn thing could easily go on for ten minutes... the flames rose up up and up and we could feel the heat even from so far off. I still remember my ears would buzzzzz for some time afterwards.
And then we'd get off and run... run back home coz we'd want to see the thing repeat at the Shastri Nagar Ramlila grounds... You see this was our pada and they never failed to be late, drunk and clumsy while erecting the statue... the head fell off two hours before the final event once. The joke was it must have had some too. We were always sure no matter what the muhurt be.... Shastri Nagar will go off only once we reach there. And then the crazy began again! Wo-a-ha!
So you know exactly how I am feeling alone in an office for 50... remembering the times when ThumsUp was 2.5 Rs for a 500 ml bottle... when we'd rent 'Billu and Pinki' and 'Chacha Chowdhary' comics for 50 paise and played bare foot, barely clothed on the roads in hot summer days, hardly feeling a thing. When we bought kampat toffee (in case you are wondering... this is the Indian version of compacts... the sugar candies mostly of orange flavor) 10 for 10 paise. I now think I was stupid for ever wanting to grow up.
I am missing home today. And that just does not mean Pune. I am missing the times when I looked forward to these times of the year with impatient yearning. I looked forward to taking the rickety bus ride to Kanpur from Raebareli ... the seemingly endless waiting till all the activities building upto those final moments would end and the joy ride begin.
I am missing the excitement of wearing new clothes... and how Mom would so many times buy dress material and stitch clothes for us... we could not afford the fancy clothes in those big shops but Mom more than made up for it. The sweets that women in the house made... and our attempts at stealing the yummies from the big aluminium jars. We were not to eat them till the Pooja was over... the Gods had to be offered the goodies before the greedy demons could be satisfied. Nevertheless we almost always got to them before Ganesha did.
And the final moments... the grandeur of the huge parks where the 'Ravana' effigy would be erected... it took months to make and was a clandestine activity... not to be seen till the very last day possibly. There always is a fierce competition between various areas in the city on whose Mr Bad is the best... there are bets riding on the results. And thousands of rupees go into making and erecting the effigy which then burns after 'Bhagwan Ram' shoots a burning arrow through its navel!
The end result was we'd wait with baited breathe for the one in our pada or nagar to come out... and unanimously believed we were the best in the whole of Kanpur. So finally the day would come... the house would be in utter chaos with everyone asking everyone else to do everything and then finally... by noon time people would have bathed, clothed and ready for the pooja (several hours late ofcourse) ... the songs hymns would be sung, a diya lit in every room of the house, second round of pooja and finally would come the time when we could eat. The kitchen would spout pooris, chhole, raita, halwa... till one could not eat any more. The elders would take respite in siesta and we would run out to have a look at all the preparations going on everywhere.
The evening was when we all got ready with coercion or cajoling. We wore our clothes and waited till the adults managed to do the same and then all would set out for the bada maidan. I remember how amazing the shops selling paani puri, khasta puri, chhole samosa, you-name-it-they-had-it assortment of eatables looked. The wooden thelas (platform on wheels) carrying the local fizzy drink called 'Kancha' (Marbles) which was such a rage then... It was called kancha coz they sealed the bottle neck with a marble... And you had to pop it in to the bottle to drink. I remember knowing I probably had just about ten rupees in all to spend and always came back home with money still left coz I just could not decide in God's name what to eat and what to sacrfice.
We would all gather on Rajjan Chacha's roof top and watch the aatishbaazi competition (Fireworks) ... we'd just keep asking... 'Ma rawan kab jalega... bolo... ab kitni der ho gayi hai?' and granny would tell us the muhurt had not come yet! damn... how much waiting had one to do in this whole Dushehra business... painful!
Finally the muhurt would come... and it seemed like everyone in the park, which had people in thousands would know somehow... the rath (open carriage) carrying Mr Ram would make its way through the crowds towards the Ravana... oh and I forgot to tell you... the statues erected were really really tall... anywhere between 80 to 120 feet, held up with ropes etc...I have pictures as a kid standing next to one just about reaching the curvy tip of Mr Ravana's fancy red shoe.
So Mr Ram would then take out his bow and arrow, light its tip and aim. The public would start roaring and much to everyone's delight Mr Ram would miss... It obviously would take several attempts before a Bindra happened... in fact many a times it would be the ropes, the dry grass around the statue doused with diesel catching fire that came to Mr Ram's embarrassing rescue.
Finally it would begin... the MOMENT that all had been waiting for would begin... the effigy would burn and the fire crackers and bombs inside would blast... so a head went off here and we'd go Haaaaaeeeeeyyyyyyy and a limb blew there and heeeeeaaaaaaaayyyyyyy.... It was crazy, deafening and wild and it lasted... they stuffed them Ravans with so much ammunition the damn thing could easily go on for ten minutes... the flames rose up up and up and we could feel the heat even from so far off. I still remember my ears would buzzzzz for some time afterwards.
And then we'd get off and run... run back home coz we'd want to see the thing repeat at the Shastri Nagar Ramlila grounds... You see this was our pada and they never failed to be late, drunk and clumsy while erecting the statue... the head fell off two hours before the final event once. The joke was it must have had some too. We were always sure no matter what the muhurt be.... Shastri Nagar will go off only once we reach there. And then the crazy began again! Wo-a-ha!
So you know exactly how I am feeling alone in an office for 50... remembering the times when ThumsUp was 2.5 Rs for a 500 ml bottle... when we'd rent 'Billu and Pinki' and 'Chacha Chowdhary' comics for 50 paise and played bare foot, barely clothed on the roads in hot summer days, hardly feeling a thing. When we bought kampat toffee (in case you are wondering... this is the Indian version of compacts... the sugar candies mostly of orange flavor) 10 for 10 paise. I now think I was stupid for ever wanting to grow up.
Tuesday, October 7
Gung ho!
Today's story is dedicated to women I have known over the past year... from all walks of life. So be it a conversation I overheard at the massage parlour where two friends were talking about masturbating in the shower with an enlivened enthusiasm that was just so refershing! Its been long due that women in this country could be sexually experimental and be happy with it. Just happy... not guilty, or have an overboard I-left-my-bra-at-home attitude. Just be simply happy.
Take the lady who stayed in this flat before me. She took control of life, got onto shaadi.com, cherry picked 5 men and as she had the house to herself... tested the sexual prowess of every single one of them before deciding on which one to go for. She said that it was very essential for her to get along with 'the man' in bed and there was no way in hell she was giving up on that.
On a different note, my lady cook can make it to any of those women empowerment stories in the magazines. She with her meagre income, in 7 years that she has spent in Bombay washing utensils, clothes and cooking at homes, she now owns a flat in a far corner of the city. Its not long before civilisation and malls will creep up on her property and she is waiting, biding her time. Its commendable coz in terms of returns its definitely better than my systematic investment plans and equity holdings which prolly stand no where given the share market melt down! Oh by the way... its time to cherry pick the stock market too coz you may never get such a pick at such price... deeply undervalued and how! And I digress. So I was saying... my maid has three sons, runs the house, and supports their education as well. Swell rt?
Her dedication to her work and family is nothing short of inspiring. Here you have a lady, who works hard, manages her and her husband's money, better than most of my educated MBA friends and is always there on time at my place every day with a smile! Never a crib about life or how unfair its been. Always full of ideas on how to do things better... She taught me a thing or two about managing my kitchen! She takes her work very seriously and I have never seen her enthusiasm abate. She is never lazy, never lies or steals and is all for positive conversation. The one thing she worries about is if her children will grow up ok and be good people.
I feel like a sham sometimes... with all these worries and problems of mine. I am reminded of how much I have... from a small thing like never to have to bathe in a public bathroom to being able to eat anything I want anytime. Sounds so simple rt? Things we take for granted.
Take my cleaning maid now. She left her abusive husband and lives on her own now, supporting her son and his education. The family I saw at the signal that day... 3 girls in tattered clothes with their mother waiting to cross the signal. Every single one of them with a school bag. I felt my heart swell at the thought that they dint choose to beg on that signal. Its an easy choice, on the surface perhaps. Life must not be easy and I loved the fact that somewhere that woman with them had not given up.
And so came the thought. Life is all about choices. Heard it already? Several times? But then how many really put this to use. Its about focussing on what you want, rather than what you don't. Its about all those values we were taught as kids but we learnt to scoff at without seeing the real merit in them. The simple thing like be grateful for what you have. That things like integrity, honesty, enthusiasm, living each day to your highest sense of right... are timeless and don't change no matter how many centuries go by.
But then! pride takes over and you don't want to accept you could have been wrong all this while, and yourself responsible for all the crap to come your way. The virtue of being a rebel in the short run becomes higher than that of being a better human in the long... labelling all others as conformist approval junkies.
But then! misery is such an intoxicating potion! What better than to feel you are the wronged one! And therefore the hero... the suffering martyr... the one making the sacrifices! having a finger to point always knowing exactly who did it this time!
Looking at these people around me brings me back to mother earth. It reminds me to stop being so un-bloody-hinged all the time and get my act together. And I am so grateful to the powers that be... that I always manage to be around positive souls... I still have my moodier moments... but then if there is one thing I have always managed to find, its inspiration. And these common men and women are my heroes... I need go no further.
Take the lady who stayed in this flat before me. She took control of life, got onto shaadi.com, cherry picked 5 men and as she had the house to herself... tested the sexual prowess of every single one of them before deciding on which one to go for. She said that it was very essential for her to get along with 'the man' in bed and there was no way in hell she was giving up on that.
On a different note, my lady cook can make it to any of those women empowerment stories in the magazines. She with her meagre income, in 7 years that she has spent in Bombay washing utensils, clothes and cooking at homes, she now owns a flat in a far corner of the city. Its not long before civilisation and malls will creep up on her property and she is waiting, biding her time. Its commendable coz in terms of returns its definitely better than my systematic investment plans and equity holdings which prolly stand no where given the share market melt down! Oh by the way... its time to cherry pick the stock market too coz you may never get such a pick at such price... deeply undervalued and how! And I digress. So I was saying... my maid has three sons, runs the house, and supports their education as well. Swell rt?
Her dedication to her work and family is nothing short of inspiring. Here you have a lady, who works hard, manages her and her husband's money, better than most of my educated MBA friends and is always there on time at my place every day with a smile! Never a crib about life or how unfair its been. Always full of ideas on how to do things better... She taught me a thing or two about managing my kitchen! She takes her work very seriously and I have never seen her enthusiasm abate. She is never lazy, never lies or steals and is all for positive conversation. The one thing she worries about is if her children will grow up ok and be good people.
I feel like a sham sometimes... with all these worries and problems of mine. I am reminded of how much I have... from a small thing like never to have to bathe in a public bathroom to being able to eat anything I want anytime. Sounds so simple rt? Things we take for granted.
Take my cleaning maid now. She left her abusive husband and lives on her own now, supporting her son and his education. The family I saw at the signal that day... 3 girls in tattered clothes with their mother waiting to cross the signal. Every single one of them with a school bag. I felt my heart swell at the thought that they dint choose to beg on that signal. Its an easy choice, on the surface perhaps. Life must not be easy and I loved the fact that somewhere that woman with them had not given up.
And so came the thought. Life is all about choices. Heard it already? Several times? But then how many really put this to use. Its about focussing on what you want, rather than what you don't. Its about all those values we were taught as kids but we learnt to scoff at without seeing the real merit in them. The simple thing like be grateful for what you have. That things like integrity, honesty, enthusiasm, living each day to your highest sense of right... are timeless and don't change no matter how many centuries go by.
But then! pride takes over and you don't want to accept you could have been wrong all this while, and yourself responsible for all the crap to come your way. The virtue of being a rebel in the short run becomes higher than that of being a better human in the long... labelling all others as conformist approval junkies.
But then! misery is such an intoxicating potion! What better than to feel you are the wronged one! And therefore the hero... the suffering martyr... the one making the sacrifices! having a finger to point always knowing exactly who did it this time!
Looking at these people around me brings me back to mother earth. It reminds me to stop being so un-bloody-hinged all the time and get my act together. And I am so grateful to the powers that be... that I always manage to be around positive souls... I still have my moodier moments... but then if there is one thing I have always managed to find, its inspiration. And these common men and women are my heroes... I need go no further.
Sunday, October 5
Stayin Alive...
I have just joined Ashley Lobo's Dance Works for classes in Street Jazz and it already seems like the best thing I have done in the whole year!!
The dance teacher is hot... for a good time I was just so checking her out... I mean that ass!! Its like sweet-cake-just-out-of-oven-you-want-it-all-but-can't-eat-it-hot! Soopah! And that attitude she throws on the dance floor had people revved up and ready... The way she'd just flip her body like there was a hinge where the waist is... I wasn't blinking much when she did her piece on the floor! And before you get any ideas... I am very much for the Dicky Fox variety (Invert that name for a better picture!)
So as I was saying... the class has everything... the ballet, the rock, the groove, the move... and -look-at-your-self-in-the-mirror-and-touch-your-ass stuff! She had people opening up and using their bodies in the first class!
And the best part is yet to come... She complimented me on my walk, my style and that I picked up so fast... I almost had a happiness heart attack down there.
The class was 2 hours!! And the next one's for 3. I won't prolly be walking tomorrow with all that walk I had today... and the next monday either! But hell... who cares! I'd go just to see that bunch of teaching studs... peforming a flip, jump and a complete spilt on the floor with split second precision! Spiritual.
The group is eclectic too... A guy Kathakali Dancer (trained for 7 years) and a woman Kathak dancer (trained for 10 years)... Woaha! The youngest is in 7th grade and most adults in the group are bankers! The hot instructor is pursuing Physics... and well... remembers my name in a group of 35 after the first class... licking my paws? Showing off? Yessir I am!
To cut a long story short, "Yippee!" I love life rt now.
The dance teacher is hot... for a good time I was just so checking her out... I mean that ass!! Its like sweet-cake-just-out-of-oven-you-want-it-all-but-can't-eat-it-hot! Soopah! And that attitude she throws on the dance floor had people revved up and ready... The way she'd just flip her body like there was a hinge where the waist is... I wasn't blinking much when she did her piece on the floor! And before you get any ideas... I am very much for the Dicky Fox variety (Invert that name for a better picture!)
So as I was saying... the class has everything... the ballet, the rock, the groove, the move... and -look-at-your-self-in-the-mirror-and-touch-your-ass stuff! She had people opening up and using their bodies in the first class!
And the best part is yet to come... She complimented me on my walk, my style and that I picked up so fast... I almost had a happiness heart attack down there.
The class was 2 hours!! And the next one's for 3. I won't prolly be walking tomorrow with all that walk I had today... and the next monday either! But hell... who cares! I'd go just to see that bunch of teaching studs... peforming a flip, jump and a complete spilt on the floor with split second precision! Spiritual.
The group is eclectic too... A guy Kathakali Dancer (trained for 7 years) and a woman Kathak dancer (trained for 10 years)... Woaha! The youngest is in 7th grade and most adults in the group are bankers! The hot instructor is pursuing Physics... and well... remembers my name in a group of 35 after the first class... licking my paws? Showing off? Yessir I am!
To cut a long story short, "Yippee!" I love life rt now.
Its chemical!
I have been vacillating between writing the ludicrous story and the morbid one. Contrary to the usual, I'll go with the zany.
Our Senior Secondary chemistry teacher had 2 of his lower front teeth missing and had to often use his tongue in weird ways to be able to say several words. The toughest ones were those having any thing to do with the alphabet 'F' . He almost always ensured we never got any learning done in his class. So when his own son flunked Chemistry in the boards we were all sympathy and somehow... not surprised! Mr Singh had been single handedly responsible for just about all the happiness there was at school. He was our beloved Fofessor who just 'F'ed too much with his mouth!
He inspired this short script (imaginary ofcourse) dedicated to those good old times! The words are written as they ought to be pronounced in the above context! Actually its a direct inspiration from a 'die with laughter' real time conversation sequence that happened in class. Ok... now the story:
(The scene opens. Lola is sitting on a large mahogany desk placed at the far end of the large rectangular room poring over a file... her professor is standing close to one of the several bookshelves that line the walls of the room. He is choosing a book for his student, among the many leather bound volumes lined up on the shelves... too close and tight...)
Lola: Fofessor, I am just not being able to Furk through the thing... Can you please Furk with me?
Fofessor: ....Astounded expression on face... "What?"
Lola: What happened? I am asking to you to Furk a little... that's all! You can do that for me rt?
Fofessor: Are you asking me to fuck you?
Lola: You're fout of your freaking mind... I dont fant a fuck! All I came here for was Furk!
Fofessor: Yes or No! You just sounded like you wanted a fuck!
Lola: Flease Fofessor, what do you mean I am fsounding like? All I am saying is that.... I.. I am furking and you are furking and that's all... I mean furk... yeah furk... Oh damn I mean I am trying furking hard here... very hard!!
Fofessor: Okay!! Hard it is then! Very!
Lola: Oh no!! What the fuck do I do!!?
Fofessor: Me!
....Lets get it started yeah
Lets get it started in here...
Ok fine... I got a lil carried away. But then... this is my blog now isn't it? MY BLOG? Psycho!
Our Senior Secondary chemistry teacher had 2 of his lower front teeth missing and had to often use his tongue in weird ways to be able to say several words. The toughest ones were those having any thing to do with the alphabet 'F' . He almost always ensured we never got any learning done in his class. So when his own son flunked Chemistry in the boards we were all sympathy and somehow... not surprised! Mr Singh had been single handedly responsible for just about all the happiness there was at school. He was our beloved Fofessor who just 'F'ed too much with his mouth!
He inspired this short script (imaginary ofcourse) dedicated to those good old times! The words are written as they ought to be pronounced in the above context! Actually its a direct inspiration from a 'die with laughter' real time conversation sequence that happened in class. Ok... now the story:
(The scene opens. Lola is sitting on a large mahogany desk placed at the far end of the large rectangular room poring over a file... her professor is standing close to one of the several bookshelves that line the walls of the room. He is choosing a book for his student, among the many leather bound volumes lined up on the shelves... too close and tight...)
Lola: Fofessor, I am just not being able to Furk through the thing... Can you please Furk with me?
Fofessor: ....Astounded expression on face... "What?"
Lola: What happened? I am asking to you to Furk a little... that's all! You can do that for me rt?
Fofessor: Are you asking me to fuck you?
Lola: You're fout of your freaking mind... I dont fant a fuck! All I came here for was Furk!
Fofessor: Yes or No! You just sounded like you wanted a fuck!
Lola: Flease Fofessor, what do you mean I am fsounding like? All I am saying is that.... I.. I am furking and you are furking and that's all... I mean furk... yeah furk... Oh damn I mean I am trying furking hard here... very hard!!
Fofessor: Okay!! Hard it is then! Very!
Lola: Oh no!! What the fuck do I do!!?
Fofessor: Me!
....Lets get it started yeah
Lets get it started in here...
Ok fine... I got a lil carried away. But then... this is my blog now isn't it? MY BLOG? Psycho!
Thursday, October 2
Hues
Have you ever felt a piece of music fill your soul and make you warm within... spread in you and end in a smile on your face? As the notes unravel and fill you... you are in a state of joy... nourishing bliss.
Have you ever heard someone talk to you, say the things deep within you in just as many words and so simply that you were shocked? And then it hurt, so much that you cried. For this person knew what you'd been all about for a good time now... and said it so simply the beauty made you wince with pain.
Have you ever looked at the rain or the sun... sitting alone in a room somewhere... thinking about some other place and time when it rained the same... or the sun was just this bright..just this warm... and you felt filled with longing to go back. For you longed not for what felt unchanged but what was different then.
Have you seen the clouds lately and how they change color? Or the color of tea, hot and steaming in your cup? People's faces in a train, bus or on a signal... speaking volumes. And that silence can be very uncalming sometimes.
Emptiness when something does not get closure. I know I have to go back to all those places, people... see it all again. I have to walk the same roads, try look for the trees that were, climb those stairs and if possible, get into that house and touch those walls again. They will have new people, different faces living there now. I'd like to gather all that's mine... spread out both arms and gather it within and walk back. I'd like to take the story to its closure... complete it. And breathe.
Have you ever heard someone talk to you, say the things deep within you in just as many words and so simply that you were shocked? And then it hurt, so much that you cried. For this person knew what you'd been all about for a good time now... and said it so simply the beauty made you wince with pain.
Have you ever looked at the rain or the sun... sitting alone in a room somewhere... thinking about some other place and time when it rained the same... or the sun was just this bright..just this warm... and you felt filled with longing to go back. For you longed not for what felt unchanged but what was different then.
Have you seen the clouds lately and how they change color? Or the color of tea, hot and steaming in your cup? People's faces in a train, bus or on a signal... speaking volumes. And that silence can be very uncalming sometimes.
Emptiness when something does not get closure. I know I have to go back to all those places, people... see it all again. I have to walk the same roads, try look for the trees that were, climb those stairs and if possible, get into that house and touch those walls again. They will have new people, different faces living there now. I'd like to gather all that's mine... spread out both arms and gather it within and walk back. I'd like to take the story to its closure... complete it. And breathe.
Tuesday, September 30
The pickle revenge
Something happened that took me back to the glorious era between 1981 and 1990... The story today starts with an 'adult' neighbor moving into our building. The lady in question was a mother of a six year old, like most other mothers and had decided to call her son 'Mausam' (The 'weather' in english). What we did to him for that name is a study in sadism of epic proportions.
So, a good mother that she was she decided to take revenge. She threatened us into giving him our toys, goodies, barbies.. hit us if we resisted... every time her whiny son would lust for anything not essentially his own, which was very often by the way. She then went on to make small talk with our mothers and let them know how bratty we were to Mausam AND her. So well... what do you expect any self respecting mother in a cloistered 4 building I-know-everything-you've-ever-done society to do? We got thrashed.
And as the theory goes, it takes crisis of some sort to throw up a leader. Destiny chose me and well!... that Wednesday afternoon all 9 of us sat down on the staircase of flat no. 608, the officer's colony. The plan was hatched... dates, time, players decided, roles delegated and put into action. The very next day!
Thursday afternoon
3:00 PM: 9 kids from 3 - 9 years, schooled, fed and eager for revenge
The pit: the roof top area above her flat. The roof tops happened to be a continuous space, as there were no walls separating this space between flats... our second play ground after the road between the buildings.
Target: 4 large pickle bottles, 2 single bedsheets full of rice and dal papads... laid out for drying.
Ammunition: 1. 8 pairs of adult size rubber slippers.
2. the guys with their peepee lazer guns
Course of events:
3:10: Mohalla women deep in the embrace of siesta, the bitch included.
3:15: Player 1 takes position. She happened to be a 4 year old, who could run really fast. Job was to guard the post that overlooked the enemy's den and let us know the moment the bitch steps out.
3:15.5: Player 2... oh sham!! everyone else just got on to the bedsheets full of papads and did a fine job of annihilating the crunchy to dust... aware all the time that the 'patt-patt' of the rubber against cement floor will wake her up any moment... my heart was beating in my mouth, as we tried to cover maximum ground over the papads... the patt-patt...crunch crunch working us into a mad frenzy.
3:15.5: Simultaneously 4 boys of the gang take out their peepee lazer guns and emptied their bladders into the large pickle bottles.
3:18: Player 1 runs back screaming
"Dideeeeee.....Dideeeeeeee.... thull gaya dalwajaaaa (Eng translation: The bitchy cunt's coming, run for life!)
3:18 onwards: mad run, scramble, scatter, scamper, scraped skins, run over each other, fall, laughing mad all the time... just somehow get down 2 floors from the other 2 stairs, on the roads and back home. You see moms generally slept so deep we were counting on them thinking we never left home.
And over and above all this... the shrill scream of ... "are ******, Haraam ke jano...******"
As expected, she did complain. And all of us said we had never gone out that day. Some still got thrashed, but then that was more like routine you-need-to-get-thrashed-once-a-week stuff. We had finally and truly emerged victorious.
That day on she never bothered us. She never complained to our parents or try to snatch our toys. Her son lived like an outcast. We never stopped making him miserable.
But you know what's the best part! The Mishras never threw the pickles away. All the salt and preservative must have rendered our endeavour ineffective... and so thank God for it. The bottles were still out and drying 1 day later, and one of the gang positively spotted them above the Mishra hearth a couple of months hence, during a Diwali sweet distribution errand.
Its been almost 20 years and I am still laughing. This event was actually a trigger for a series of planned mutinies we executed over the next 2-3 years. Needless to say I wish I could go back sometimes... just to feel the sun the way it did during the long afternoons we spent on the building roof. Very warm and so much home somehow.
So, a good mother that she was she decided to take revenge. She threatened us into giving him our toys, goodies, barbies.. hit us if we resisted... every time her whiny son would lust for anything not essentially his own, which was very often by the way. She then went on to make small talk with our mothers and let them know how bratty we were to Mausam AND her. So well... what do you expect any self respecting mother in a cloistered 4 building I-know-everything-you've-ever-done society to do? We got thrashed.
And as the theory goes, it takes crisis of some sort to throw up a leader. Destiny chose me and well!... that Wednesday afternoon all 9 of us sat down on the staircase of flat no. 608, the officer's colony. The plan was hatched... dates, time, players decided, roles delegated and put into action. The very next day!
Thursday afternoon
3:00 PM: 9 kids from 3 - 9 years, schooled, fed and eager for revenge
The pit: the roof top area above her flat. The roof tops happened to be a continuous space, as there were no walls separating this space between flats... our second play ground after the road between the buildings.
Target: 4 large pickle bottles, 2 single bedsheets full of rice and dal papads... laid out for drying.
Ammunition: 1. 8 pairs of adult size rubber slippers.
2. the guys with their peepee lazer guns
Course of events:
3:10: Mohalla women deep in the embrace of siesta, the bitch included.
3:15: Player 1 takes position. She happened to be a 4 year old, who could run really fast. Job was to guard the post that overlooked the enemy's den and let us know the moment the bitch steps out.
3:15.5: Player 2... oh sham!! everyone else just got on to the bedsheets full of papads and did a fine job of annihilating the crunchy to dust... aware all the time that the 'patt-patt' of the rubber against cement floor will wake her up any moment... my heart was beating in my mouth, as we tried to cover maximum ground over the papads... the patt-patt...crunch crunch working us into a mad frenzy.
3:15.5: Simultaneously 4 boys of the gang take out their peepee lazer guns and emptied their bladders into the large pickle bottles.
3:18: Player 1 runs back screaming
"Dideeeeee.....Dideeeeeeee.... thull gaya dalwajaaaa (Eng translation: The bitchy cunt's coming, run for life!)
3:18 onwards: mad run, scramble, scatter, scamper, scraped skins, run over each other, fall, laughing mad all the time... just somehow get down 2 floors from the other 2 stairs, on the roads and back home. You see moms generally slept so deep we were counting on them thinking we never left home.
And over and above all this... the shrill scream of ... "are ******, Haraam ke jano...******"
As expected, she did complain. And all of us said we had never gone out that day. Some still got thrashed, but then that was more like routine you-need-to-get-thrashed-once-a-week stuff. We had finally and truly emerged victorious.
That day on she never bothered us. She never complained to our parents or try to snatch our toys. Her son lived like an outcast. We never stopped making him miserable.
But you know what's the best part! The Mishras never threw the pickles away. All the salt and preservative must have rendered our endeavour ineffective... and so thank God for it. The bottles were still out and drying 1 day later, and one of the gang positively spotted them above the Mishra hearth a couple of months hence, during a Diwali sweet distribution errand.
Its been almost 20 years and I am still laughing. This event was actually a trigger for a series of planned mutinies we executed over the next 2-3 years. Needless to say I wish I could go back sometimes... just to feel the sun the way it did during the long afternoons we spent on the building roof. Very warm and so much home somehow.
Thursday, September 25
Been some time...
that the blank has been there for company. Its very possesive. Does not allow anything else to co-exist.
So right now... I am going to get out and try do something. Its lonely otherwise. I can't talk, think... say anything that makes sense.
At the risk of sounding morbid... feels like I am locked inside a room within and I can't find where the room is. Its night time and not much light either... So will have to wait it out till the sun shines again coz its not much use trying to navigate the labyrinth of fleeting thoughts... that I just can't seem to hold on to. Its blurred, getting slippery and cold and I am tired.
So right now... I am going to get out and try do something. Its lonely otherwise. I can't talk, think... say anything that makes sense.
At the risk of sounding morbid... feels like I am locked inside a room within and I can't find where the room is. Its night time and not much light either... So will have to wait it out till the sun shines again coz its not much use trying to navigate the labyrinth of fleeting thoughts... that I just can't seem to hold on to. Its blurred, getting slippery and cold and I am tired.
Monday, September 22
Pennywise
I gathered another penny today. It dropped real sweet on me.
Penny: Our friends need us the most when they are at their worst behavior.
It pays to stick around during the angry diatribe, lashing out and 'I'll misbehave rt now... lets see what you do' phase.
If it does not kill the bond, it only gets better.
And I've gotten myself another shuffle. This one's called Violet (for obvious reasons).
Penny: Our friends need us the most when they are at their worst behavior.
It pays to stick around during the angry diatribe, lashing out and 'I'll misbehave rt now... lets see what you do' phase.
If it does not kill the bond, it only gets better.
And I've gotten myself another shuffle. This one's called Violet (for obvious reasons).
Sunday, September 21
Friday, September 19
Scattered on the wind...
Some thoughts from someone else:
The mark of your ignorance
is the depth of your belief
in injustice and tragedy.
What the caterpillar calls
the end of the world,
the master calls the butterfly.
Anger is always fear.
And fear is always
fear of loss.
Lean into your fears,
dare them to do their worst
and cut them down when they try.
If you don't, they'll clone themselves,
mushroom till they surround you,
choke the road to the life you want.
Every turn you fear
is empty air, dressed
to look like jagged hell.
is the depth of your belief
in injustice and tragedy.
What the caterpillar calls
the end of the world,
the master calls the butterfly.
Anger is always fear.
And fear is always
fear of loss.
Lean into your fears,
dare them to do their worst
and cut them down when they try.
If you don't, they'll clone themselves,
mushroom till they surround you,
choke the road to the life you want.
Every turn you fear
is empty air, dressed
to look like jagged hell.
Drag Test
Have you taken the drag test lately? Its a very simple and fun!
Test pre-requisite:
Picture yourself walking on the road... dragging an assortment of articles behind you. They could be tied with ropes or cords... you holding the ends in your hands... as you walk on with the tins and cans dragging behind you. If you can see it, you need to take the test. Otherwise run along. You are a happy soul!
Now the fun bit:
Step 1: Look at everything that's happening. Make a mental list... no pen and paper ok? What? No? fine you bum! go get it. Now, the cans, tins, photocopy machines... whatever you are dragging with you represents something in life. The heavier... the meaner, needless to say.
Step 2: There will be things you can drop right away... reduce the load. But probably have not cause you've just been lazy or preoccupied with other stuff. If yes, join the club! So now's the big chance... Do what you need to and drop the weight. Time frame: Things that can get done in a day will belong to this category. My list has some 6 items. Yours could have calling someone up and asking them to get a life! Or something at the bank.
Step 3: Now we come to the mean bit. These will be heavy and painful things... I hope you dint see yourself dragging a Boeing! Anyway... drop these right away too. Yes... you heard it! Rt now!
You see... the point is why drag anything? Past issues... future worries... present stress... some painful client... some jackass of a friend! Shed the baggage. If you've seen the picture clearly... you will see that all of it is external to you, and you can choose at any point to let them go. By any logic you don't need any of it so just drop it. You must want to... that's all.
You are far more capable of doing whatever you want to, without any unnecessary load on your shoulders! You'll walk faster to get to where you want to go and more good news is it frees your hands... ok ok cheesy I know! There is so much to do anyway, so a pair of hands doing what you want them to would be welcome rt?
This happened to me in my dream last night. It was some stuff I was dragging by the way! And I feel lighter... better. Let me know if it works. I'll apply for a patent.
Love.
Test pre-requisite:
Picture yourself walking on the road... dragging an assortment of articles behind you. They could be tied with ropes or cords... you holding the ends in your hands... as you walk on with the tins and cans dragging behind you. If you can see it, you need to take the test. Otherwise run along. You are a happy soul!
Now the fun bit:
Step 1: Look at everything that's happening. Make a mental list... no pen and paper ok? What? No? fine you bum! go get it. Now, the cans, tins, photocopy machines... whatever you are dragging with you represents something in life. The heavier... the meaner, needless to say.
Step 2: There will be things you can drop right away... reduce the load. But probably have not cause you've just been lazy or preoccupied with other stuff. If yes, join the club! So now's the big chance... Do what you need to and drop the weight. Time frame: Things that can get done in a day will belong to this category. My list has some 6 items. Yours could have calling someone up and asking them to get a life! Or something at the bank.
Step 3: Now we come to the mean bit. These will be heavy and painful things... I hope you dint see yourself dragging a Boeing! Anyway... drop these right away too. Yes... you heard it! Rt now!
You see... the point is why drag anything? Past issues... future worries... present stress... some painful client... some jackass of a friend! Shed the baggage. If you've seen the picture clearly... you will see that all of it is external to you, and you can choose at any point to let them go. By any logic you don't need any of it so just drop it. You must want to... that's all.
You are far more capable of doing whatever you want to, without any unnecessary load on your shoulders! You'll walk faster to get to where you want to go and more good news is it frees your hands... ok ok cheesy I know! There is so much to do anyway, so a pair of hands doing what you want them to would be welcome rt?
This happened to me in my dream last night. It was some stuff I was dragging by the way! And I feel lighter... better. Let me know if it works. I'll apply for a patent.
Love.
Silver Lining
You win some,
lose some!
You dream...
inherit the impatience,
rude shocks,
heart aches...
I'd rather live uncomfortable
with impatience,
but dream.
with shocks and some pain,
still keen...
than not live at all.
I'll pick up the threads again
weave my soul back...
I'll look back and smile
wait for that single,
all purging, drenching rain.
till then...
lose some!
You dream...
inherit the impatience,
rude shocks,
heart aches...
I'd rather live uncomfortable
with impatience,
but dream.
with shocks and some pain,
still keen...
than not live at all.
I'll pick up the threads again
weave my soul back...
I'll look back and smile
wait for that single,
all purging, drenching rain.
till then...
Wednesday, September 17
To dance...
I wish I could dance on my blog... I express myself better through music of my body, the language of movement ... than words. I feel rhythm... the beats and my body just goes with it. Its something that fills my soul... It takes me in to worlds I'd love to live in.
I wish I could express the feeling when I let the control go and just move... the arms, hips, lips, fingers... all in sync. Communicating like I can't even begin to in any other language... feel blessed to be able to speak in bodies.
I wish I could say how it feels when you anticipate a piece of music to come, and your being... not the mind... but your being, that takes a decision on how its going to treat the music. The alternating of subtle movement with obvious... the sensuous with playful... the instrument of expression shifting from the face to fingers to calves to the curve of the back and expanse between your breasts and hips... painting on a space canvas... painting your own picture. Aware... all the time... that its perfect.
...when your arms move serpentine... the hips draw a circle like drawing a perimeter which contains all that matters in the moment... The thighs start the rhythm... your toes follow... and before you know your breasts are straining against your being and an invisible boundary ... a not so subtle sign of rebellion.
Ah! rebellion! Now that's my value system.
I wish I could express the feeling when I let the control go and just move... the arms, hips, lips, fingers... all in sync. Communicating like I can't even begin to in any other language... feel blessed to be able to speak in bodies.
I wish I could say how it feels when you anticipate a piece of music to come, and your being... not the mind... but your being, that takes a decision on how its going to treat the music. The alternating of subtle movement with obvious... the sensuous with playful... the instrument of expression shifting from the face to fingers to calves to the curve of the back and expanse between your breasts and hips... painting on a space canvas... painting your own picture. Aware... all the time... that its perfect.
...when your arms move serpentine... the hips draw a circle like drawing a perimeter which contains all that matters in the moment... The thighs start the rhythm... your toes follow... and before you know your breasts are straining against your being and an invisible boundary ... a not so subtle sign of rebellion.
Ah! rebellion! Now that's my value system.
Tuesday, September 16
Night nomads
Its wayyyy past midnight... and I am up writing this. Deductive logic: I can't sleep. So its Mustard, me and a bowl full of piping hot and spicy maggi for each other. And its not bad.
I finish a month of a journey... I have been a blog writer for so long you see. And in such lil time, my blog's already made it to my 'best friends' list. I think it comes closest to loving me unconditionally.
For several reasons:
1. Every time I come to it, I feel like it looks up at me from the screen and smiles.
2. I get to say anything I want to it. I never get judged. Feels like it accepts me just as I am. I may be weak or strong, failure or success... here I am as I am and its fine.
3. It listens to whatever I have to say, for however long. It doesn't tire. It will never tell me 'Look I am bored now... So I'll go belong to someone else.'
4. Its allowed me to express things I could never believe happened. Its let me get past the misery. Its made me a happier person. Its made me fall in love with reading and writing all over again. And does not want anything in return.
5. I look forward to this meeting. Everyday! I look forward to gathering my experiences in the day and coming to it and excitedly talk about it.
6. No matter what happens... the above will never change.
Makes me wonder how this is exactly what human relationships want too. Just some appreciation and joy in each other's existence. To let one feel that its ok to be you... You can make all your mistakes with me and I will stick with you. That I am not doing you a favour, but I want to be with you, for I love who you are, as you are.
There's another journey I started a month back... I've had my celebration of its one month anniversary. And its an awesome story too, but for another day, another time... sometime. Right now... I am going to go look outside the window... its pouring like crazy and the raindrops look amazing in the steetlight.
I finish a month of a journey... I have been a blog writer for so long you see. And in such lil time, my blog's already made it to my 'best friends' list. I think it comes closest to loving me unconditionally.
For several reasons:
1. Every time I come to it, I feel like it looks up at me from the screen and smiles.
2. I get to say anything I want to it. I never get judged. Feels like it accepts me just as I am. I may be weak or strong, failure or success... here I am as I am and its fine.
3. It listens to whatever I have to say, for however long. It doesn't tire. It will never tell me 'Look I am bored now... So I'll go belong to someone else.'
4. Its allowed me to express things I could never believe happened. Its let me get past the misery. Its made me a happier person. Its made me fall in love with reading and writing all over again. And does not want anything in return.
5. I look forward to this meeting. Everyday! I look forward to gathering my experiences in the day and coming to it and excitedly talk about it.
6. No matter what happens... the above will never change.
Makes me wonder how this is exactly what human relationships want too. Just some appreciation and joy in each other's existence. To let one feel that its ok to be you... You can make all your mistakes with me and I will stick with you. That I am not doing you a favour, but I want to be with you, for I love who you are, as you are.
There's another journey I started a month back... I've had my celebration of its one month anniversary. And its an awesome story too, but for another day, another time... sometime. Right now... I am going to go look outside the window... its pouring like crazy and the raindrops look amazing in the steetlight.
Sunday, September 14
A night's tale... Whoha!
I have had the most fun night of the year today! By far the best! T is the best friend I have had for eight years now... that's the longest in my life. We've been together and drifted and the whole thing repeat. But we've stuck.
So I get to his place by 9... and we generally chat over life. We have this thing of coming up with bizzare theories on life which are just so crazily loopey! Lets take the 'dump and dumper' for example... I came up with this idea that dumping and being dumped are cyclical in my life... trend analysis of data available: got dumped first time, then I dumped... and then I got dumped again! So its essentially my turn to dump now and I am all nails sharpened, polished, and glee! He came up with the 'itch' theory... just that you need to add an alphabet before it. So it started like... Ditch! Ditch! then a Bitch! And a Bitch again! and then Hitch! and finally the real Ditch (grave)! Ok fine! We were high on laughter... ok?
Then we decide to get out and do something! And I dont mean people here... So we hit Mondy's at Colaba and have sausages and pasta for dinner. The conversation flows... I trivialise him with WWII ghory story routine. And he goes on with his two pence ... Examples:
- All women are sex objects! Every time I talk of sex, they object.
- You know this pedder road in peak traffic hours is like a bitch man! She fucks you, spanks you, hits you in the face and enjoys it. Too bad I can't reciprocate the feeling! It wd be nice coz she is just so mean!
- Me: So T... what did you do today?
- T: errr.... you want names?
- Me: Noooo! I meant more materialistic stuff!!! (eyes rolling routine and bit)
- T: you mean richer people...?
- Me: giggling silly.... Ok so in 1931....
We finally get thrown out at 1:30. So we head to Gateway of India... stand there and talk on life and the old times in Lucknow and Delhi. We head out to Gokul and Bade Miyan... If I ever had a friend down in Bombay... I would not miss taking them to these places for life. They are like the soul of Bombay. Then we make it to Polly's.... Get out and just head for the marine drive. Its a full moon night... its 3 in the morning and the damn place is full of people. This is what I love about Bombay... I feel alive when I am out in it. So many men... so many women. The chatter... the laughter... the breeze and moon.
We get into serious stuff. He tells me he is going to be a father soon. And I go into shock. Say something dumb... and then both of us look at each other and say it together... 'When in shock... Do not talk'. After the feeling sinks in ... I just jump up and down... till he accuses me of trying to hypnotise him by behaving like a vertical pendulum! We finally decide to seal the deal and do the Worli sea face as well before sliding back home... coz the damn streets were so empty! The radio is playing the saturday night dance-the-night-away kinda music and we make the remaining journey... head rocking... windows down... wake every body up kinda loud music! Ohhh God! I just love to get out in the night in a car and zoop! on the roads... it makes me feel like I can fly... I dont know why it gives me such a kick!
Oh wait! I think I know... in highschool... I used to get out of home at night (always after 12)... scale the front wall (11 Ft) and go and dance under the street light with my walkman! I danced all alone on that broad lonely road and it used to kick me for days... like a drug and then I'd do it again! It was such an adventure... I think someone saw me and told Dad... he asked me the next day if I'd gone out at night... and I flatly refused. I think the whole thing was too far fetched for him to believe it anyway... thankfully. Needless to stay my midnight adventures died an untimely death.
So I get to his place by 9... and we generally chat over life. We have this thing of coming up with bizzare theories on life which are just so crazily loopey! Lets take the 'dump and dumper' for example... I came up with this idea that dumping and being dumped are cyclical in my life... trend analysis of data available: got dumped first time, then I dumped... and then I got dumped again! So its essentially my turn to dump now and I am all nails sharpened, polished, and glee! He came up with the 'itch' theory... just that you need to add an alphabet before it. So it started like... Ditch! Ditch! then a Bitch! And a Bitch again! and then Hitch! and finally the real Ditch (grave)! Ok fine! We were high on laughter... ok?
Then we decide to get out and do something! And I dont mean people here... So we hit Mondy's at Colaba and have sausages and pasta for dinner. The conversation flows... I trivialise him with WWII ghory story routine. And he goes on with his two pence ... Examples:
- All women are sex objects! Every time I talk of sex, they object.
- You know this pedder road in peak traffic hours is like a bitch man! She fucks you, spanks you, hits you in the face and enjoys it. Too bad I can't reciprocate the feeling! It wd be nice coz she is just so mean!
- Me: So T... what did you do today?
- T: errr.... you want names?
- Me: Noooo! I meant more materialistic stuff!!! (eyes rolling routine and bit)
- T: you mean richer people...?
- Me: giggling silly.... Ok so in 1931....
We finally get thrown out at 1:30. So we head to Gateway of India... stand there and talk on life and the old times in Lucknow and Delhi. We head out to Gokul and Bade Miyan... If I ever had a friend down in Bombay... I would not miss taking them to these places for life. They are like the soul of Bombay. Then we make it to Polly's.... Get out and just head for the marine drive. Its a full moon night... its 3 in the morning and the damn place is full of people. This is what I love about Bombay... I feel alive when I am out in it. So many men... so many women. The chatter... the laughter... the breeze and moon.
We get into serious stuff. He tells me he is going to be a father soon. And I go into shock. Say something dumb... and then both of us look at each other and say it together... 'When in shock... Do not talk'. After the feeling sinks in ... I just jump up and down... till he accuses me of trying to hypnotise him by behaving like a vertical pendulum! We finally decide to seal the deal and do the Worli sea face as well before sliding back home... coz the damn streets were so empty! The radio is playing the saturday night dance-the-night-away kinda music and we make the remaining journey... head rocking... windows down... wake every body up kinda loud music! Ohhh God! I just love to get out in the night in a car and zoop! on the roads... it makes me feel like I can fly... I dont know why it gives me such a kick!
Oh wait! I think I know... in highschool... I used to get out of home at night (always after 12)... scale the front wall (11 Ft) and go and dance under the street light with my walkman! I danced all alone on that broad lonely road and it used to kick me for days... like a drug and then I'd do it again! It was such an adventure... I think someone saw me and told Dad... he asked me the next day if I'd gone out at night... and I flatly refused. I think the whole thing was too far fetched for him to believe it anyway... thankfully. Needless to stay my midnight adventures died an untimely death.
Saturday, September 13
The inner circle... (of friends)
I am amusing myself. But I have managed a break through. You see... I have managed to bring the voices in my head together and realise there are just two of them. They must have both been pretty cantankerous all this while... confusing me into thinking that there were too many. Never underestimate women arguing!
So we had this session finally, where I sat them down and we decided to let the past quarrels go. And they seem to be making friends very fast. They have strong personalities. One is 8 and very funny, dresses in frills. The other is a grown up and well... I dont know her age! ha! And dresses formal. Very formal. Always talks in calm tones. And enjoys a good laugh. She really likes the kid and is very protective. And the kid reciprocates. She's funny, adventurous and very very open to ideas.
They have the most sane conversations I have been privy to in my head in years. The kid surprises me the most. So now they have come up with this whole routine of dealing with fear / anxiety / worrying thought bit. Usually the one who is worried, talks about it and then they go to the coffee table. Its a high wood table with steel chairs. Then the 'one with the worry' (kid came up with the line!) has to take the feeling out and put it on the table. And then we get to look at the shape, size, colour and temperature (yes! you heard it right!) of the damn thing. It could be like a blob... big, real hot and smoldering green in colour... It just takes it out of me and puts it where I can see and feel it.
Last night, during one such talks... the kid looked at the grown one's fear on the table and said... 'That's so ugly... no one would want it on their coffee table!!' and they laughed and laughed!!
And no... I am not seeing a shrink about this. Thanks.
So we had this session finally, where I sat them down and we decided to let the past quarrels go. And they seem to be making friends very fast. They have strong personalities. One is 8 and very funny, dresses in frills. The other is a grown up and well... I dont know her age! ha! And dresses formal. Very formal. Always talks in calm tones. And enjoys a good laugh. She really likes the kid and is very protective. And the kid reciprocates. She's funny, adventurous and very very open to ideas.
They have the most sane conversations I have been privy to in my head in years. The kid surprises me the most. So now they have come up with this whole routine of dealing with fear / anxiety / worrying thought bit. Usually the one who is worried, talks about it and then they go to the coffee table. Its a high wood table with steel chairs. Then the 'one with the worry' (kid came up with the line!) has to take the feeling out and put it on the table. And then we get to look at the shape, size, colour and temperature (yes! you heard it right!) of the damn thing. It could be like a blob... big, real hot and smoldering green in colour... It just takes it out of me and puts it where I can see and feel it.
Last night, during one such talks... the kid looked at the grown one's fear on the table and said... 'That's so ugly... no one would want it on their coffee table!!' and they laughed and laughed!!
And no... I am not seeing a shrink about this. Thanks.
Friday, September 12
A day's tale
I have spent six hours on Wikipedia today. Some advantages of being home on a working day... And the end result looks... desultory!
I read up on:
1. Ernest Hemingway
2. William Wordsworth
3. WWII
- General turn of events
- Rape of Nanking / Japanese invasion of China
- Blitzkrieg tactic of warfare
- Baltic States & Scandinavian Countries
- Hakko Ichiu - Japanese political slogan, post 1940. Literally eight cords, one roof OR all the world under one roof. There seem to be a lot of similarities between the german 'living room' concept and this one... at least in what both ideologies aspired to achieve. Need more indepth discussion with philosopher or phil as I call him... to validate the thought.
- Flooding of yellow river - I dont know how to feel really after reading that the Chinese central government killed its own people (estimated between 500,000 to 900,00) by flooding the yellow river in june 1938... because they wanted to stall the rapidly progessing Japanese... and prepare for the decisive battle of Wuhan. Guess what! the damn town was taken by the Japs anyway! In october. So effectively, they expended 6000+ lives per day... to buy time they couldn't use!
4. Song Lyrics - was too depressed to go on with WWII really!
5. Trivia on 'American Pie' by Don McLean - categorised as folk rock. And how the song 'Killing me softly' was inspired by it. Sung by Roberta Flack then, it won the record of the year for that year... beating American Pie!
Ok... I know you are bored. So let talk books? I went cuckoo in the head yesterday and picked the most number of novels in a single go in my life!
1. Family Matters - Rohinton Mistry
2. Sula - Toni Morrison
3. A case of exploding mangoes - Mohammed Hanif
4. Song of Solomon - Toni Morrison
5. Sundays at Tiffany's - James Patterson & Gabrielle Charbonnet
So its going to be a lot of reading on and off mustard (Mr laptop)... I am set for onslaught of the weekend. They are darned hard to get through. Baby blue (Ms shuffle) seems to have become an appendage of my body... The wallet's called rusty, and the cell phone gray. Bed's called choco and the laptop bag's too corny to reveal! :)
I read up on:
1. Ernest Hemingway
2. William Wordsworth
3. WWII
- General turn of events
- Rape of Nanking / Japanese invasion of China
- Blitzkrieg tactic of warfare
- Baltic States & Scandinavian Countries
- Hakko Ichiu - Japanese political slogan, post 1940. Literally eight cords, one roof OR all the world under one roof. There seem to be a lot of similarities between the german 'living room' concept and this one... at least in what both ideologies aspired to achieve. Need more indepth discussion with philosopher or phil as I call him... to validate the thought.
- Flooding of yellow river - I dont know how to feel really after reading that the Chinese central government killed its own people (estimated between 500,000 to 900,00) by flooding the yellow river in june 1938... because they wanted to stall the rapidly progessing Japanese... and prepare for the decisive battle of Wuhan. Guess what! the damn town was taken by the Japs anyway! In october. So effectively, they expended 6000+ lives per day... to buy time they couldn't use!
4. Song Lyrics - was too depressed to go on with WWII really!
5. Trivia on 'American Pie' by Don McLean - categorised as folk rock. And how the song 'Killing me softly' was inspired by it. Sung by Roberta Flack then, it won the record of the year for that year... beating American Pie!
Ok... I know you are bored. So let talk books? I went cuckoo in the head yesterday and picked the most number of novels in a single go in my life!
1. Family Matters - Rohinton Mistry
2. Sula - Toni Morrison
3. A case of exploding mangoes - Mohammed Hanif
4. Song of Solomon - Toni Morrison
5. Sundays at Tiffany's - James Patterson & Gabrielle Charbonnet
So its going to be a lot of reading on and off mustard (Mr laptop)... I am set for onslaught of the weekend. They are darned hard to get through. Baby blue (Ms shuffle) seems to have become an appendage of my body... The wallet's called rusty, and the cell phone gray. Bed's called choco and the laptop bag's too corny to reveal! :)
Horoscopes by Adam Sandler...
Well I am a Capricorn and this is what he has to say for my lot:
Capricorn (Dec 23 - Jan 22) - You are conservative and afraid of taking risks. You are basically chicken shit. There has never been a Capricorn of any importance. You should kill yourself.
But guess what... I dint feel so bad after all, when I read this!!:
Leo (July 23 - Aug 22) You consider yourself a born leader. Others think you are an idiot. Most leos are bullies. You are vain and can not tolerate criticism. Your arrogance is disgusting. Leo people are thieving motherfuckers and enjoy masturbation more than sex.
And this...
Capricorn (Dec 23 - Jan 22) - You are conservative and afraid of taking risks. You are basically chicken shit. There has never been a Capricorn of any importance. You should kill yourself.
But guess what... I dint feel so bad after all, when I read this!!:
Leo (July 23 - Aug 22) You consider yourself a born leader. Others think you are an idiot. Most leos are bullies. You are vain and can not tolerate criticism. Your arrogance is disgusting. Leo people are thieving motherfuckers and enjoy masturbation more than sex.
And this...
Virgo (Aug 23 - Sept 22) You are the logical type and hate disorder. Your shit-picking attitude is sickening to your friends and co-workers. You are cold and unemotional and often fall asleep while fucking. Virgos make good bus drivers and pimps.
Libra (Sept 23 - Oct 22) You are the artistic type and have a difficult time dealing with reality. If you are a male you are probably a cross-dresser. Chances for employment and monetary gain are nill. Most Libra women are whores. All Libras die of venereal disease.
Leos take the cake though. Ha! And it helps that I never got along with them. Ever!
Just for gags
This happened on G Talk some days ago!
And names have been changed to protect the identities of the entities involved!
====================================================================================================
me: Hiii... need to speak to you!
Friend: hey how's u
me: I am fine.... :) You are with XYZ company nowadays rt?
Friend: korrect
me: I need to know something.. :)
Friend: ??
me:A friend of mine is getting an opp with your HR... what do you say?
Friend: well let mme be frank
me: yeah..?
Friend: hr practices in XYZ india is pathetic... run by Hari Sadu, who heads it. he lacks strategic vision and is an absolute monster to work with. has his own sense of timings and work ethics. has got no respect for human or moral values .the entire team is breakin up.
admin manager has left,
comp n ben manager is desperate for a change and
the poor recruitment lass is in pain and asking me for a job change
me: sounds like mayhem!!
Friend: not only that even the people in operations are sick of him. he's too arrogant and far too unapproachable
me: Jeeez.... did I touch a raw nerve... :)
Friend: a strict cabin person who believes in monarchy and aristocracy, a complete jerk !!
me: Thanks. I have no doubts at all now. :)
Friend: he's all FART AND NO SHIT
ABSOLUTE BOLLOCKS
COBBLER
huh
Me: Thanks
Friend: for which position has your fren applied for
me: Asst Manager Comp & Ben
Friend: pls save his life. he deserves much better
me: I guess so... Thanks anyway..!!
And names have been changed to protect the identities of the entities involved!
====================================================================================================
me: Hiii... need to speak to you!
Friend: hey how's u
me: I am fine.... :) You are with XYZ company nowadays rt?
Friend: korrect
me: I need to know something.. :)
Friend: ??
me:A friend of mine is getting an opp with your HR... what do you say?
Friend: well let mme be frank
me: yeah..?
Friend: hr practices in XYZ india is pathetic... run by Hari Sadu, who heads it. he lacks strategic vision and is an absolute monster to work with. has his own sense of timings and work ethics. has got no respect for human or moral values .the entire team is breakin up.
admin manager has left,
comp n ben manager is desperate for a change and
the poor recruitment lass is in pain and asking me for a job change
me: sounds like mayhem!!
Friend: not only that even the people in operations are sick of him. he's too arrogant and far too unapproachable
me: Jeeez.... did I touch a raw nerve... :)
Friend: a strict cabin person who believes in monarchy and aristocracy, a complete jerk !!
me: Thanks. I have no doubts at all now. :)
Friend: he's all FART AND NO SHIT
ABSOLUTE BOLLOCKS
COBBLER
huh
Me: Thanks
Friend: for which position has your fren applied for
me: Asst Manager Comp & Ben
Friend: pls save his life. he deserves much better
me: I guess so... Thanks anyway..!!
Wednesday, September 10
Its a beautiful life
I had looked up at the sky one day and asked him, "Won't you send me an angel today? Tell me... will you?" Well. He did.
Event: Sexual Abuse / Unsolicited shit / Rape
Ghost: Exorcised
Today I step out of the moments and look at life beyond.
And today I choose to forgive.
I'll keep the trust, my faith.
I'll let go of hurt and hatred, guilt and humiliation.
I'll keep the human. Let go of the victim. Just walk on.
Its a beautiful life. So I will carry my own vision forward. And let others' actions be with them.
Like someone said... 'You've given your life to become the person that you are. Was it worth it?'... It better be worth it then.
Event: Sexual Abuse / Unsolicited shit / Rape
Ghost: Exorcised
Today I step out of the moments and look at life beyond.
And today I choose to forgive.
I'll keep the trust, my faith.
I'll let go of hurt and hatred, guilt and humiliation.
I'll keep the human. Let go of the victim. Just walk on.
Its a beautiful life. So I will carry my own vision forward. And let others' actions be with them.
Like someone said... 'You've given your life to become the person that you are. Was it worth it?'... It better be worth it then.
Tuesday, September 9
Did you know...?
"Water, water, everywhere, Nor any drop to drink...." are lines from 'The Rime of the Ancient Mariner' by Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
That he was a part of the group 'Lake Poets' (William Wordsworth, Samuel Taylor Coleridge & Robert Southey) who all lived in the Lake District of England and are considered a part of the Romantic movement in English poetry.
That the American Transcendental movement is considered to be inspired by the English romantic movement, amongst other things... German Idealism (Immanual Kant) and Vedic thought being a few....
And while I was on the subject, I found this:
Thoreau in Walden (1854) spoke of the debt to the Vedic thought directly, as did other members of the Transcendental movement:
In the morning I bathe my intellect in the stupendous and cosmogonal philosophy of the Bhagavat Geeta, since whose composition years of the gods have elapsed, and in comparison with which our modern world and its literature seem puny and trivial; and I doubt if that philosophy is not to be referred to a previous state of existence, so remote is its sublimity from our conceptions. I lay down the book and go to my well for water, and lo! there I meet the servant of the Brahmin, priest of Brahma, and Vishnu and Indra, who still sits in his temple on the Ganges reading the Vedas, or dwells at the root of a tree with his crust and water-jug. I meet his servant come to draw water for his master, and our buckets as it were grate together in the same well. The pure Walden water is mingled with the sacred water of the Ganges.
I went... Wow! The next steps are to dig into the 'New Thought' movement.
And all this because I was trying to understand Jacobinism... that through a blog called 'Sit down man, you're a bloody tragedy' at nastybrutalistandshort.blogspot.com
That he was a part of the group 'Lake Poets' (William Wordsworth, Samuel Taylor Coleridge & Robert Southey) who all lived in the Lake District of England and are considered a part of the Romantic movement in English poetry.
That the American Transcendental movement is considered to be inspired by the English romantic movement, amongst other things... German Idealism (Immanual Kant) and Vedic thought being a few....
And while I was on the subject, I found this:
Thoreau in Walden (1854) spoke of the debt to the Vedic thought directly, as did other members of the Transcendental movement:
In the morning I bathe my intellect in the stupendous and cosmogonal philosophy of the Bhagavat Geeta, since whose composition years of the gods have elapsed, and in comparison with which our modern world and its literature seem puny and trivial; and I doubt if that philosophy is not to be referred to a previous state of existence, so remote is its sublimity from our conceptions. I lay down the book and go to my well for water, and lo! there I meet the servant of the Brahmin, priest of Brahma, and Vishnu and Indra, who still sits in his temple on the Ganges reading the Vedas, or dwells at the root of a tree with his crust and water-jug. I meet his servant come to draw water for his master, and our buckets as it were grate together in the same well. The pure Walden water is mingled with the sacred water of the Ganges.
I went... Wow! The next steps are to dig into the 'New Thought' movement.
And all this because I was trying to understand Jacobinism... that through a blog called 'Sit down man, you're a bloody tragedy' at nastybrutalistandshort.blogspot.com
Peace. Found.
Sometime between yesterday and today I decided to stay with myself.
I decided to be with me.
So the memories I thought I'd forgotten have come back.
But this time around I'll stay with myself.
Rather than step out and entertain me with trivia ... and leave the core within to the ghosts.
Before anyone else can stick around, I'll stick around.
They can't protect me if I wont.
Surprisingly, its far less lonely now.
And I like the feeling.
I decided to be with me.
So the memories I thought I'd forgotten have come back.
But this time around I'll stay with myself.
Rather than step out and entertain me with trivia ... and leave the core within to the ghosts.
Before anyone else can stick around, I'll stick around.
They can't protect me if I wont.
Surprisingly, its far less lonely now.
And I like the feeling.
Man enough are we?
Let me say that I never liked defeat.
Or to run away from the kitchen coz I can't take the heat.
You see I am not a person of sophisticated fears
I am not the one to put words in so many layers
But I am man enough to say I have them
That I'd rather have heart and fight them.
Than hand my life over,
and say... you're the strong one, so run my days as they count.
That I will niether be a vampire nor a victim,
and it does not depend on whose around.
That I will never look like a car crash,
whose wheels are turning but its upside down.
You too can walk with me.
but then, man enough are we?
Or to run away from the kitchen coz I can't take the heat.
You see I am not a person of sophisticated fears
I am not the one to put words in so many layers
But I am man enough to say I have them
That I'd rather have heart and fight them.
Than hand my life over,
and say... you're the strong one, so run my days as they count.
That I will niether be a vampire nor a victim,
and it does not depend on whose around.
That I will never look like a car crash,
whose wheels are turning but its upside down.
You too can walk with me.
but then, man enough are we?
Sunday, September 7
Can music save your moral soul...?
An angel falls
Darkness calls
Breath stalls
And I wonder...
To live or let go
... Live or let go
..Live or...
"Dressed up like a car crash
the wheels are turning but you're upside down...
So remember me fondly...
And that sometimes you can't make it on your own"
Darkness calls
Breath stalls
And I wonder...
To live or let go
... Live or let go
..Live or...
"Dressed up like a car crash
the wheels are turning but you're upside down...
So remember me fondly...
And that sometimes you can't make it on your own"
Saturday, September 6
Just the little things...
Sis is planning to study in NZ. So she and I went out to meet Dad's doctor ... he'd studied in NZ... and we wanted his opinion on things.
Now... it was Dr Advani's lucky day today! No I dint do what you think... perv!! He had a good number of patients silly! So ... we had this hour long wait in the corridor. And man did we have fun!
We did the following:
1. Walked infront of the glass door on the nearby office again and again... the man on the front desk was sleeping you see... he'd wake up with a start every time he sensed someone was close to the door. I was able to do it barely once coz I was laughing so much. I'd caught a few very undescribably silly expressions on his face... He got wiser and left after some time.
2. Jammed. Yes we did. We sang all the old songs from an album dating back to stone age (the highschool days)... Sis provided the background music and I the vocals. The best one was 'Stand by me'.... And 'Your song' came a close second. The fun part was when the lady just before us in the queue came out and asked us if we were singing!! We had been unknowingly audible till rt inside the Doc's clinic all this while! :)
We entered his cabin feeling rather sheepish... but he was sweet and very confessionally told us that anything was a welcome break from people and their stories! I think he is the only doctor I like in the whole wide world.
Now... it was Dr Advani's lucky day today! No I dint do what you think... perv!! He had a good number of patients silly! So ... we had this hour long wait in the corridor. And man did we have fun!
We did the following:
1. Walked infront of the glass door on the nearby office again and again... the man on the front desk was sleeping you see... he'd wake up with a start every time he sensed someone was close to the door. I was able to do it barely once coz I was laughing so much. I'd caught a few very undescribably silly expressions on his face... He got wiser and left after some time.
2. Jammed. Yes we did. We sang all the old songs from an album dating back to stone age (the highschool days)... Sis provided the background music and I the vocals. The best one was 'Stand by me'.... And 'Your song' came a close second. The fun part was when the lady just before us in the queue came out and asked us if we were singing!! We had been unknowingly audible till rt inside the Doc's clinic all this while! :)
We entered his cabin feeling rather sheepish... but he was sweet and very confessionally told us that anything was a welcome break from people and their stories! I think he is the only doctor I like in the whole wide world.
You dont fit in! Period!
In psychology and the cognitive sciences, perception is the process of acquiring, interpreting, selecting, and organizing sensory information... don't look at me Wikipedia says so. I studied Perception during Psychology in graduation and then in HR in an MBA I dont like to remember. Anyway... the fact of the matter is that there is obviously much more to this simple word.
We are always percieving and sorting information around us in boxes. We are always simplifying the complex relaity around us in the best way we know to make decisions better.... faster. Speed is the key. You are a better specimen of man kind if you are fast up there.
Too sad, I find myself being put in boxes too many times. All professional literature (I'm reading "The Science of Influence" by Cialdini) says one needs to control how others percieve you. How your actions, words, way you speak, your sense of humour... all go a long way to decide 'what' and 'who' you become for someone else.
And I hate this bit about Human Relationships. I hate this need for speed, for putting people in boxes, rather fixing boxes for people and then putting... rather stuffing them in it somehow. It damn hurts ya! The corners hurt me and the space is just not enough to grow. I need sunlight and air and dont care two hoots about your box.
So go ahead label me. Decide what you want me to be and live with it. Coz I wont. I refuse to live in that box and make you happy. I refuse to put you in a box and buddy! believe me that is the best I can do for you.
But then... do you know what I am saying? Do you 'percieve' at all that I am setting you free? To be you with me.
We are always percieving and sorting information around us in boxes. We are always simplifying the complex relaity around us in the best way we know to make decisions better.... faster. Speed is the key. You are a better specimen of man kind if you are fast up there.
Too sad, I find myself being put in boxes too many times. All professional literature (I'm reading "The Science of Influence" by Cialdini) says one needs to control how others percieve you. How your actions, words, way you speak, your sense of humour... all go a long way to decide 'what' and 'who' you become for someone else.
And I hate this bit about Human Relationships. I hate this need for speed, for putting people in boxes, rather fixing boxes for people and then putting... rather stuffing them in it somehow. It damn hurts ya! The corners hurt me and the space is just not enough to grow. I need sunlight and air and dont care two hoots about your box.
So go ahead label me. Decide what you want me to be and live with it. Coz I wont. I refuse to live in that box and make you happy. I refuse to put you in a box and buddy! believe me that is the best I can do for you.
But then... do you know what I am saying? Do you 'percieve' at all that I am setting you free? To be you with me.
Hope floats
This is for Rudra. He is a 4 year old autistic boy who lives close by.
I was witness to a small episode in Rudra's life yesterday and it has stayed with me. He was out with his walker yesterday, a steel frame structure designed to help small kids with muscle co-ordination challenges. His parents by his side.
He had a small step to tackle to get to the level platform infront. He had to pick his walker and put it on the step and then pull himself up along. His parents stood by and watched... as he struggled.
His father would pick up the walker slightly time and time again... to demonstrate, to hint. But he did not pick it up for Rudra. He did not HELP. His mother stood some distance away and kept enthusing him... saying his name again and again and beckoning him. No one HELPED.
And you'd think that they should have lifted that damn walker and put it up for him... they should have taken his hand and helped him up and let him walk.
Minutes passed. And I had to give it to these two souls for their patience. For the infinite love they must have inside to not help the struggling child, probably in pain. For holding on... for what seemed like forever.
Just when I thought it probably wont happen today, he did it. He lifted the walker and walked onto the platform. and he ran... can you believe it... he actually ran and ran. He looked back and screamed with laughter.
He is my favorite person rt now, specially after the way he waved and smiled at me today morning. Courage comes in many forms... like a 4 year old with clear eyes and toothy grin.
I was witness to a small episode in Rudra's life yesterday and it has stayed with me. He was out with his walker yesterday, a steel frame structure designed to help small kids with muscle co-ordination challenges. His parents by his side.
He had a small step to tackle to get to the level platform infront. He had to pick his walker and put it on the step and then pull himself up along. His parents stood by and watched... as he struggled.
His father would pick up the walker slightly time and time again... to demonstrate, to hint. But he did not pick it up for Rudra. He did not HELP. His mother stood some distance away and kept enthusing him... saying his name again and again and beckoning him. No one HELPED.
And you'd think that they should have lifted that damn walker and put it up for him... they should have taken his hand and helped him up and let him walk.
Minutes passed. And I had to give it to these two souls for their patience. For the infinite love they must have inside to not help the struggling child, probably in pain. For holding on... for what seemed like forever.
Just when I thought it probably wont happen today, he did it. He lifted the walker and walked onto the platform. and he ran... can you believe it... he actually ran and ran. He looked back and screamed with laughter.
He is my favorite person rt now, specially after the way he waved and smiled at me today morning. Courage comes in many forms... like a 4 year old with clear eyes and toothy grin.
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