monologues

2012 is here

2012-01-01T18:30:00.000+05:30

Another year and another birthday in a few days..This has almost been my refrain at the dawn of every year.The day has indeed been warm and pleasant and my fingers are typing to the rhythm of the Irish song, Star of the County Down. I promised myself for the nth time that I will write more often in this blog and so, here is my half hearted attempt to put pen to paper.

2012 just looks like a mass of statistics, an ascending order of numbers that make up for a calender. As I wonder what is in store for me, I am reminded of my professor P Sainath who used to say that as students, it is left to us to make the most of his class. In a similar vein, it is very much up to us to make the most of 2012, irrespective of what the Mayans thought.

I have no clear goals or resolutions this year and as always, I prefer to go with the flow, but this year Ive decided to set a broad list of guidelines for me. In other words, I am trying to get a bit disciplined , bring in a balance, a method to the madness in my life. .

I would like to bring down the negative influence in my life - that begins with my own negativity inside me - my thoughts and my actions, my temper and my impatience . And I am going to avoid all negative people like the plague. People who throw their insecurities, their inadequacies, their anger and jealousy on me are out of my life.

I need a bit of discipline around me, be it fitness or my approach to work . Less is more - that will be my mantra for everything, including travel . It is not applicable to reading and writing.

And finally good health, good cheer , fitness and loads of energy. ..If I can achieve these even to a bare mimimum, 2012 will be just the year for me

Conversing to a wall

2011-12-31T22:44:00.001+05:30

Have you had those conversations when you cry from the heart and the other argues with the head ? Its the most futile ever conversation. The day just ends with depleted emotions and an empty heart and a tired soul.

Pretence

2011-12-31T22:40:00.001+05:30

She looked at the mirror and smiled. But she saw the tear stained face, the emptiness written all over it. She saw the broken pieces of whatever was left of her reflecting in the mirror, crumbled and powdered , stamped and flung around. She reached out into the deep abyss inside her and saw a crushing emptiness, a block of negativity that pushed her against the wall . The mirror showed her the truth. There were no doors, no windows, not even a keyhole of hope and happiness . She took a kaleidoscope and looked inside her and she saw pieces of her rejected and thrown. She stared hard at the mirror now. It smiled back at her. Reality is harsh. The whole world celebrated. Beside her was one part of her world, oblivious to her pain and hurt , snoring in the dark. She typed in the white screen. Happy New Year. The mirror chided her. Stop pretending, it said.

And so a year ends

2011-12-13T23:25:00.000+05:30

For the first time in the last four years, ever since I took a sabbatical from corporate life and grappled through some wonderful and truly depressing phases in my life, I am actually looking forward to a whole new year .

2011 in many ways was one of my best years in recent times, 2010 coming a close second and 2009 being particularly a very bad phase. Nevertheless , am looking forward to 2012 , although the buzz doing the rounds is all about recession and a financial melt down.

For starters, Ive never felt so self assured like this in a very long time. Phases of identity crisis, lack of growth, no sense of direction, judgement lapses wrt people, bad health phases and sudden depletion of financials dogged me over the last four years ever since I quit my high paying , seven digit salaried job in media.

My world was my job then and I prided myself on my successes and rubbished my failures. The highs and lows never worried me as I moved from one job to another, from one challenge to another. My days were always busy then .I would have no time to think except on the job.

But soon I was just becoming a zombie , a programmed robot doing the job. But when I quit, I just became a malfunctioned robot who suddenly realized that there was a mind and a brain and I promptly put them to all the wrong use . I thought too much and worked myself into a frenzy. I realized what joblessness would do.

Ive never made friends during my professional life - just colleagues and ex colleagues and as a rule, I believe that they are not synonyms for friends. And so, in my solitary phase of life, I often spoke to myself and to a group of new found friends from the online world whom I believed were friends. But then , I forgot that facebook friends are not the real friends and hence I suffered some serious lapse of judgement wrt quite a few of them.

However amidst all this, a couple of wonderful things happenned. A love for the road, to seek new worlds, to immerse myself into new cultures took over my life and I put my frenzied hyperactive soul from a soul searching mode to a discovery mode. Only this time., I found new worlds through my journeys and shared it with the world through my blog and articles. The journey in my head moved on to the real world and I stopped plaguing myself with questions relating to existentialism and decided to live for the moment . Ironically I realized that throughout my professional life, I was doing just that - living, working for the moment and moving on to the next phase that gave me a sense of high. And I missed that during my sabbatical. But the passion for travelling fitted well into the urge of seeking new challenges .

I still needed to connect and travel writing then helped me reach out to the world at large . I found several like minded people .We discussed stories and travels , but therein I drew the line. The written word stood between me and the people on the other end with whom I shared many conversations ; but bereft of any emotion. Once bitten twice shy, I told myself.

So what brings me to welcome 2012 ?Nothing really has changed. I am still living a solitary world, typing alphabets on to a white screen, having conversations with myself through this laptop and thinking that am probably connecting to people on the other side of this internet world. I still dont have answers to my existential questions and my bank balance has completely depleted . But then I have my road laid out in front of me and I will walk down its path and I will let it lead me wherever it takes me . And I will tell my stories , no matter who reads or reacts.

People

2011-04-06T11:24:00.000+05:30

What is it about some people that makes you wish you had never met them?

What is it about some people that makes you want to look into the mirror and take a one good look at yourself ?

What is it about some people that makes you want to forget and forgive and restart all over again ?

What is it about some people that you let go the moment you realize its the best for everyone ?

Whats is it about some people that make you shift from I like to I am indifferent ?

What us it about some people that makes you want to rewind life all over again ?

What is it about some people that the moment you think of them , you wish to do CTRL ALT DEL ?

What is it about some people that makes you realize that you are a stranger to yourself ?

A birthday just went by..

2011-01-04T19:43:00.000+05:30

I turned a year older today ..well, it neither made front page news, nor was I thronged with bouquets and brickbats.I was simply overwhelmed by the wishes from various people - virtual and real, ex bosses and ex colleagues, travellers and bloggers, family and friends , classmates I had not seen for many years and people I had known for less than a year..

My maid looked at me at 12 pm and asked me - " Madam, how come you are looking so fresh ? " She is so used to seeing me in my bed clothes that she probably must have wondered if it was a new year resolution to wake up early and have a bath..I muttered something about a birthday and she was all excited demanding for a cake and rushing to the balcony and returning with a small pink flower..I was touched and promptly ordered for cakes for her children..Nevertheless, I wondered about all the good people out there who took time to wish me by phone and the internet.

I also realized that I had reached an age when my mother had my brother . I was a gawky teenager then and was excited at the prospect of a young baby at home.Today I dont have kids, but somehow that thought doesnt affect me. I also thought about my mother who was in a different generation, learning to cope with a teenager like me and a baby boy at home. We were in transition then. We had just moved from a joint family to an individual home, but that hardly made a difference in retrospect. It simply meant that we could eat my mother's cooking instead of the old cook's saltless food . It also meant that my mother did not have to rush and ensure a cup of curds is kept aside for me, much to the chagrin of her inlaws. It also meant that she didnt have to "help" the cook who was my grandmother's buddy as a dutiful daughter in law and we could eat an extra chapathi or a serving of rice without asking for permission.

We were still living in individual houses in Madras , in a large compound - under the watchful eye of my late grandfather, the family patriarch who controlled among many things our freedom. My mother was gently balancing the politics of a joint family and her own disappointments at not being able to fulfil her music career . Her life was not just ruled by us and her inlaws, but my grand aunts and uncles and their many many children . She managed us- my father's slowly failing health and my brother , who was just a baby and me, a growing rebel. We were so preoccupied by our lives that I hardly remember her falling sick or talking about her insecurities.

Somewhere in her life was me, a growing rebel, whom she had groomed to be a first ranker in academics , but who was learning to look at life beyond books. I was learning to discover my own emotions and form opinions of people. I was vulnerable, but a rebel alright. I rejected everything and refused to conform. I wanted independence and loads of it. We had no phones then and needed our grandfather's permission to use the main line at home. My mother used to take me on long bus rides to see her parents, very often being denied the car at home which would have gone to pick up one of my uncles or drop my cousin at school. If she complained, I didnt pay attention then.

Initially there were just two houses in a compound. Then two became three and later four. I grew up with cousins and I enjoyed my childhood a lot, but I somehow could not deal with the barrage of second cousins and their parents and grandparents who constantly landed in our lives.We were always thronged by relatives who came to see my grandparents. If a relative died or a baby was born to some distant cousin, our grandparent's house was the nucleus of activity. Probably today, we are starved of relatives and festivities, but then those days, I was waiting to throw a bomb at them. They literally invaded our lives. We had no concept of privacy or freedom. Even worse, such concepts didnt exist. My mother hardly complained.

Today I dont have the mental strength or the patience of my mother. I dont have the ability to balance and juggle life. I constantly have emotional upheavals , work tensions and health issues. I dont have the health or the ability to even pick up my health like the way she did. I have all the independence in the world. I dont have people invading my life and I can choose to bathe at 12 or at 3 or not bathe at all - I still remember being told then when to wash our hair and how many times a day as well.Today, she has got the freedom that i craved for, but she is at an age when she needs a support system. The relatives have all walked away into oblivion and she still manages her life, my dad's ill health, my brother's and mine highs and lows. Today she complains a bit. I hear, but I can do nothing much ..

And my dustbin overflows..

2010-12-23T20:30:00.003+05:30

Dear Diary

You cant imagine the amount of clutter that swims around in my head just now in the form of thoughts and emotions. I have been waiting to blurt them all out to you, but the moment I landed here, they have all evaporated out of the little window in my head.

But dear diary, I want to talk to you about this little wastepaper basket, lying below me that is overflowing literally with a lot of unwanted paper . I wonder how many trees have been cut to make all this paper.And those pieces of paper - they may have been useful to me at some point of time - a cheque intimation, a proposal , an e ticket, a policy reminder, a wedding invitation, a medical bill, a list of things to do - all lie crushed and torn today in that little basket out there.

Funny , I realize that life is a bit like that . People - friends, family, colleagues - we all lie in some waste paper basket after the need is fulfilled. I think of the many dustbins I may probably be lying in - discarded ..wonder if I was used in the first place to be thrown,if I was of any use to anyone...and I think of the people who have used me ; who probably cried on my shoulders, climbed on them and then flew away..Anyways, we are all pieces of paper ..lifeless, torn and crushed, lying in some wastepaper basket or the other

I look at the pile and wonder about the amount of paper that I have collected over the last year..or was it the last four years ? Yes, dear diary, its been four years since I bought this waste paper basket and the house that it is housed in. Four years since I have moved to Bangalore and all that I have accumulated is a lot of paper . Clutter. And I want them out of my system today. Thoughts and feelings. People. Its time for them to also find a place out of my life into the dustbin. Used or otherwise, they are of no use today. They have outlived their need. Its time for them to be lifeless, torn and discarded.

So, I know what you are thinking - another year ends and I have lost my sanity and gained a lot of weight..But another new year dawns and believe me , there is more paper to be collected .

Dear Diary

2010-06-26T19:11:00.005+05:30

Dear Diary,

Its been a regular week . Just a bit of rains, some work and yes, Ive been eating a lot of chocolates and chaats. And I havent been walking or hitting the gym and have been putting on weight. But you know what , Ive been meeting people. So, I met this guy, very smart and successful. I dont really knows what he does, but he seems like he knows what he is doing, which I guess is more important today.

But I found two things interesting. One, he was always tucking in his stomach when he speaks and was trying very hard to have this faraway , dreamy look in his eyes and you could see he was actually uncomfortable with himself and was probably worried about the way he was being perceived. But then, he was the centre of attraction. He carefully chose what he wanted to say. His topics could range from the Tundra to the local gossip in the film industry. Yet, he was trying very hard not to sound intellectual or trashy. He knew how to modulate his voice, wait for the right pauses and make the right noises. You know what I was thinking , dear diary..that was here was a man who made trivia , a knowledge .

Later over a drink, I stopped him when he was trying to tell me about a rare quality of gene in man that could make them fly. Ok,I just made that up. But his trivia was always like that, something which could be interesting,(ahem!) rare and unusual and often generated oohs and wows from people..but then at the end of day, he acknowledged that it was just useless trivia. It didnt really open anybody's horizon and would be either drowned in the drinks in the party or at the most be shared in another party. But then, I asked him what motivated him to collect these trivia..after all, no quizzer will ask him such questions .

He humoured me for a moment and asked , " Havent you heard of conversation currency ? " he went on to explain how diligently he read and combed the net to find such information that was not in circulation and the rarer and the less credible it is , it worked for him. " You need to shock people, not just interest him, it opens doors , you know. " I just heard a door close on me, when a phone rang. It was R on the line..I was surprised dear diary that he called me after 6 months . And then he went on to say " Hey listen, how are you doing ? I need a help. Am off to a party tonight and I need some gossip, anythg..filmy, media, fashion..meeting some people you know..no time to prepare ..." Since when did people start preparing to go for parties , I wondered as I hung up the call on this newspaper editor.

Well, there were more interesting people that I met but I will tell you later. A friend is coming over for dinner now and I actually have to prepare - food !

Who are these faces ?

2010-06-22T22:49:00.008+05:30

Dear diary,

Everyday I wade through life meeting countless faces ,rubbing many a shoulder and shaking several hands, before walking home to enjoy my own private space . While some of these social meets are pure networking opportunities, many times, I have met people with whom I share similar wavelengths or can enjoy a laugh or even share a personal moment. Sometimes these moments become intimate - not necessarily physical, but also emotional and then I do not know what to call these relationships. For want of a better word, I call them friends .

And then there are people who are around me all the time. People who are related to me, is married to me, who has nurtured and managed me, people with whom I share a bond, And I call them family.

Sometimes there is a blur between the two, when friends become family and family become friends. But then to me, that doesnt matter. I remember when I was 17 and I was still in high school. I made a promise to myself - that I will try and be independent - financially, mentally or intellectually and even emotionally. While I have managed the same to a large extent, the emotional bit has always been a bit challenging. And that is when I learnt not to have too many expectations, except to people with whom one Ive been extremely close to. And these are people, Ive learnt to trust and believe in over the years and very few friends , besides family belong here, And even then, my dear diary, I have maintained a certain discretion - as they are individuals first and then my parent ,sibling or spouse.

But this is not to say that friends are secondary. There are times when I have leaned on them and they on me , but then neither can be a permanent crutch for the other. I have gotten up and moved on several times and have been grateful to my friend for being there and I have also offered myself as a crutch when the need arises. But then, dear diary, there is a difference between being there and being used na.and very often the lines are blurred as we are dealing with feelings here . Yes, I have been used and thrown and there are times that I have used, but I believe that I havent thrown anyone as yet..but then I am also human . I do not believe in formulae, my dear diary..

But then I refuse to believe that anyone unconditionally offers themselves to the other - be it friends or family. There is always a need that one is satisfying - be it loneliness or a feel good factor or just a selfish need to feel special and cared for, or show off to the world that you are loved and cared for . I think its also a hidden urge to prove to oneself that one is not really alone and hence the success of so many social media sites that seek to satisfy this gratification. You know, as Im writing this , there is probably a desire inside me that someone out there is reading me and nodding their heads ..

I have always been a private person and even though many people think that I am quite social and an extrovert, I draw a line when it comes to me and people. Be it family or friends, I realize that 9 out 10 people I meet and have met in my life are mere acquaintances. I am happy to share a conversation with them, laugh with them, crib to them, spend some time with them, even let them touch my life to a certain extent , listen to them, offer myself as a crutch to them, but then I draw a boundary . Call it a safety net, but it has worked for me.I go that far and no further. And I avoid favours for that brings in emotional dependency, because it weakens me further and creates a false sense of obligation. In rare cases I have opened my doors to strangers and very few have actually become part of my life . Most of the time, the relationship has either drifted away, in some cases, it has failed . But what I often realize is that when i have had have zero or little expectations of people, especially friends, then the relationship survives .

Expectations I realise only sets the field for disappointments , which in turn result in failure. Sometimes when my emotions for someone are not too deep, then the disappointment does not really affect me and that I believe comes with emotional maturity. I have faltered many a time here , but then I realize that my emotional investments on people have also been very low. This is probably one of the reasons that I do not go out for parties, or prefer big groups of friends or care for attending marriages and social dos. If I feel like connecting to the people I want to connect, I just pick up the phone or drop them a line or meet them over for lunch. And then I am done, until the next time the need arises.

And believe me, everything is a need - emotional, intellectual or physical. As we evolve, our needs change and with it , our circle of friends and family. Ive often seen the pattern in which people seek out each other. While many are out of sheer attraction,lonely people look for their types and intellectuals find their own group.But who are these faces ? What do they actually mean to us ? Do they just gratify our immediate need or give us a sense of belonging or a sense of security that we are not alone..Do we really need them ? And if we do, where and how do we draw the line..

Rolling stones gather moss

2010-04-12T06:43:00.004+05:30

In my profile, Ive stated that I believe that a rolling stone gathers moss. One of my followers had asked me to explain and I had left that comment hanging then..However it didn't escape my thoughts and so I decided to explain my take on it.

I believe that we are all like stones rolling through life. As we pass by various stages,we rub shoulders against various people, collect dust through different jobs and polish our edges with learnings and finally come in contact with moss . Sometimes the moss sticks to us and adds to what I call an experience.

Sometimes we pause our journey of life, when we think we settle down in a job or a relationship, but the unsettled mind continues to roll adding more layers of moss within us. Sometimes the moss stays behind when we leave our temporary footprints behind, only to be replaced by new moss as we move along..we do renew the layer from time to time, shedding the old experiences and adding new learnings as we pass by one stage of life to another.

Bombay ki Hawa 6

2010-02-20T23:59:00.008+05:30

I remember the first time I experienced a sense of high. It was on my 22nd birthday and I had just had my first drink .And my companions were two new found friends I had met in a flight three months ago.

I remember that evening so well. I left hostel around 5 pm , walked up to Mahalakshmi temple and watched the waves for a long time. Long after the Aarti was over, I let the wave of loneliness overpower me. I wanted to spend some moments with people I could call friends.

I had been in Bombay for over 6 months and yet in that large metropolis barring a few classmates, I had no close friends. The only ones I could relate to were two men I had met a couple of months ago.

I had met A&S on the flight from Madras, hitched a ride with them and then lost touch with them . But a month later, the blackboard near the hostel phone announced that I had missed a call from A . I was excited and irritated - I hadnt taken his number and he has called back after a month and not left a number either. But common sense told me that if he had called once, he will call again. So I waited and the call came.

We three became good friends later on - well, if friendship meant enjoying each other's company, having a comfort factor, cracking up a bit here and there and not getting into personal lives ,then we were all friends then . And so, on my 22nd birthday, I reached out to the pay phone and asked my only friends to come over for a coffee to Marine Drive.

It didnt take them long to figure out and we realized that we were all January born and were Capricornians, except for A who was a cusp. And it was his brilliant idea that we celebrate and lo we were in Marine Drive having a beer each. The conversations poured in and so did the beer. I started protesting but A& S would have none of it. The Cindrella hour for the hostel was getting closer, and A poured more beer into my mug. Soon the tensions eased as I let my loneliness be lost amidst the laughter.

It was a new high. My first drink and I was out in a new city celebrating my birthday being treated by two men who were virtually strangers .The taste of beer mingled with the new found freedom, as I was enjoying the company of two people who until a couple of months ago I had not even met. And yet, in that strange bond that we were building without our own knowledge, a 22 year old was born . I felt light, my head began to swim and the reflexes relaxed. It was probably amidst all the dizzying effect of the spirit, I experienced a momentary moment of loneliness being quelled by unknown love and yet , at that moment all that I was probably thinking of was Sister Rosa and the witching hour.

A's wicked grin at seeing me high and talking gibberish still remains with me as I write this piece today. They told me later they were amused at my panic for I was apparently very high . A kept recounting later that I tripped, but I dont believe him. S was always the nice guy . He kept reassuring me as he flagged a cab and helped me into it. A deliberately took his time, munching the sandwiches, enjoying the last sip while I was half mad at him, almost in the midst of throwing the cutlery at him .I felt giddy as the cab left and drifted off to sleep for some brief moments while cursing them for getting me high . But somewhere in that sleep, I found a sense of what one would describe as happiness.

I did return late to the hostel all flushed and high as the taxi raced from marine drive to breach candy . My friends later say that when sister Rosa opened the door, I looked at her and said "The bus crashed." A cake was cut later at midnight , but all I remembered were the cheers from the evening !

Many birthdays have come and gone and I have been high on life as always, but A & S - I wonder where they are ! Well, I did manage to trace S, but A ...

Bombay ki hawa..5

2010-02-01T19:52:00.008+05:30

Recently in a conversation with a friend on people, I found myself saying the following without comprehending the full meaning of it. I said there were two kinds of people in the world - those who are with you and those who are not. My friend didnt react and I found myself brooding over it for a while.

Very often we meet people at different points of our life . They don several roles like classmates,friends, lovers, mentors, colleagues, bosses,partners, acquaintances, neighbours..While some choose to stay with us, some drift away into the oblivion. I am not referring to the broken relationships or the failed marriages here . Im talking about those people who have held our hands and lifted our hearts , laughed and cried with us and yet,they become faceless memories and the emotions that we shared at one time become fossils nestled in our hearts .

I remember my classmate in my nursery who told me not to cry as she felt like crying. I dont know where she is now. In my 8th std, I befriended a srilankan tamil and we used to spend hours chatting. I have no clue if she is in india or in srilanka.

But this post however is dedicated to those two men who I met in Bombay and are today lost to obscurity . No amount of combing through facebook, orkut, linked in have brought them back to me. I wonder where A & S are .

A&S. I cant help smiling thinking about them. I met them first in a flight from Madras to Bombay in September 1995 when I was returning to college after a brief holiday. I was just 3 months old in Bombay and I was already feeling like a veteran . We made eye contact quite frequently during the flight, but something held us back. I was 21, single and footloose, trying to grapple with my independent spirit and they were probably trying to get over a boring flight . But the body language was unmistakable. We finally spoke and when we did, it was about directions. They had to get to Worli and my destination was Breach Candy and we impulsively decided to share a cab after a five minute conversation.

A, I learnt was from Bangalore. Dressed casually in jeans and T shirt, he seemed to be indifferent to the conversation that S and I were having. When he did speak, he spoke in a quiet tone and always asked pointed questions. A seemed impatient with S who was giving me his entire story. S was a Syrian Christian from Trichur and was very friendly. He rolled his sleeves as he spoke and his wavy hair kept falling on his face. He was slightly darker than A, but his big eyes were warm and his thick mustache stood out in that very soft face . Both of them were IT professionals who had just returned from US and were on their first trip to Bombay. As South Indians in a big cosmopolitan city, we connected instantly in the cab. S had by then told me all about his family in Kerala ,while A kept looking out of the windown.We reached Worli and S said a quick good bye and rushed out while A took his time . He stretched his tall frame and reached out and paid me Rs 500/- It was agreed that we all three shared the money, but A would have none of it. And for the first time, he smiled as I looked up into his eyes and at his weather beaten face. Take care, he smiled again and the cab left . We didnt share numbers .

Bombay ki hawa..4

2010-01-24T13:42:00.004+05:30

Am I really independent ? It is a question that has been in my mind over the last few months. Independence, according to me rests in your own mind and the ability to express your thoughts without a sense of being curtailed or controlled. But independence is also about how one copes in today’s world- at the workplace, with inlaws, among friends , for that matter in any society where control seems to be the buzzword. People like to control you not just by power, but even with emotions. There is always someone telling you how to live , always with well intentions, but they eventually rob you of your will to live life the way you want, to commit mistakes and sometimes make the mistakes again..Independence is also about acceptance – its about accepting the moment and your own state of mind . If you are weak and vulnerable, so be it. If you are consumed with ambition to reach a certain goal, its about being non apologetic about it. Sometimes your mind becomes overbearing or weak and that is when it starts controlling you..is that a sign of being independent too ? And often how independent are we to control destiny ?

Many years ago, when I was a naïve 21 year old, I recollect asking myself the same question . Sitting on the last step of the Mount Mary’s church and looking out into the sea, I often thought over the meaning of independence. Did it fit the life of someone who was staying alone for the first time with no one to keep tabs and live your life without anyone out there to control you ? I could come home or whatever I called home whenever I wanted, go wherever my mind wishes, probably try alcohol or attempt grass or even find boyfriend(S) according to my wishes. And yet, I had no such desire then .Smoking and drugs has always been a no no to me, non veg is against my principles and boyfriends..well, where were the men ? (That’s probably a subject for a different post) .

I did wander aimlessly through the roads of Bombay, getting in and out of local trains and learning a lesson or two about friendships and relationships and enjoying many a beer by Carter road with new found colleagues and classmates – but that I realized was not the real essence of independence. The paradox of independence is that it is often coupled with the word responsibility, and it is when you are alone, you learn to be responsible and not necessarily independent. You are not just responsible for your physical being, but you also learn to be responsible for your decisions and your thoughts and actions and the way you portray yourself to others. Why am I rambling along these clichés ? Let me tell you the story of K ..

I finished my course in March 1996 and my internship in TV 18 started in April. At the end of the month, I walked into my boss’ cabin and asked her if I could get a job there. I was startled by my own boldness and later by my naïve nature when she did say yes and I took her word for it without a letter. I went home to Madras and told my parents that I am not coming back as I had a job and I would need to find a place immediately after my exams. My parents weren’t too happy but they let me be and I returned to Bombay in June for my exams. The hostel was very clear. I had to vacate on the 16th day, the day after my exams and instead of studying, I went looking for a roof over my head. I called up friends, read local tabloids and even asked my canteen guy, but finally I got hold of a broker in Bandra. I told her I had 3 days to vacate and I needed a PG. I also told her I had just 5000/- with me and I could afford her brokerage, deposit and the rent with that amount . She found a shabby pad for me near Bandra reclamation where two Goan sisters lived in a 2 BHK , a common toilet and bathroom and the entire flat was not more than 500 sq feet. I had to share my room with another girl while the other bigger room was shared by K with the two older women. My terms was simple. I paid Rs 1500/- a month for a bed and half a table, 2 shelves in a wardrobe . I could buy milk and keep food in the fridge and cook , but need to pay extra for gas and for telephone and I need to inform them if I was not coming back in the night. The room was very tiny, being in the ground floor and the kitchen was extremely dirty with fish and bones lying all over the table. Being a vegetarian, I had no problem with friends eating non veg or even storing meat in fridge, but I cannot take the smell of fish, especially when it is being fried. Nor can I take the sight of meat and bones lying all over the kitchen table after being cooked. Nevertheless I agreed, telling myself I will be out by 7 am and return only at late nights and all I need was a bed to crash.

I remember then setting eyes on one of the most scary looking men Ive ever seen . I was shocked . He was huge, massive like a giant from a fairy tale. His face was dark with large haggard looking eyes and his hair and unshaven beard almost merged into one. He looked a bully and spoke like one. I was silent for a moment as he enquired for K and left a message for her with the landlady . I was told he was P, K’s friend and he did odd jobs for the Goan sisters.

That is when they told me about K. My landlady almost considered her as a daughter and told me to look at her as a rolemodel. She was successful, beautiful, intelligent, articulate, confident and street smart according to the two women. And they were in awe of her. I was warned about her likes and dislikes and was told not to cross her path. She also got priority over kitchen, TV, bathroom etc..I finally did meet K after 3 days of moving in.

She was a petite girl, who looked street smart dressed in tight blue jeans and a tighter pink jersey sweater. She seemed like a no nonsense person who looked me over for a few minutes and then moved on to go to the church. Later on, I used to meet K once or twice in a week. She was silent, stuck to her work and often had the last word in arguments with the landlady. I never met her friend P for an entire month.Finally, K decided to be friendly. She started by once in a while announcing that she has cooked aallu paratha or bhajji for me and has kept in the fridge..sometimes she used to throw a couple of expensive perfumes or bawdy earrings at me and say keep it, keep it..she often came to my room to put on her make up and asked my opinion on how she looked everytime she tried a tiny weeny skirt or a tube top. She was always proud of her skin and complexion and said people called her a dusky beauty.I smiled indulgently hoping I will get free dinner and then K started telling me her story.

She said she was a third daughter of a rich man in Rajasthan who had plotted to marry her off to an older man for money. K had a knack for story telling and for drawing emotions. Occassionally the Goan women used to come and listen to every word she said. She spoke about her sister in Bangalore and a brother in Rajasthan. She also said how she had always wanted to be a model and that is why she ran away to Bombay without telling her parents.” Do you remember the Frooti ad – I was supposed to be the model, but the photographer asked me to sleep with him and I refused !” she said. K said she changed her name and became a Christian and now does some modeling whenever she has the time , but works as a secretary . She wouldn’t say where. She cried talking about her parents and about how P helped her in Bombay and that is why she still is friendly with him..” Did he scare you ?” she asked and laughed..Later when K went to sleep, my landlady took me outside and said, “ Don’t believe her, she just tells stories..she told me that P is her brother in law, who was once married to her sister, but is in love with her..and you, stay away from P and all her chelas....you understand ..”

I nodded disinterested in K’s life then. It was just a distraction. I was learning to cope with my own emotions and work pressures and K was like a stress buster. She was always cheerful, her entire petite frame used to shake when she laughed and her eyes were full of mischief. On nights when I got home early , she used to drag me to Carter road and buy me dinner and we used to laugh aloud and sing songs together. We went to Mount Marys on Sundays and she used to tell me about the men in her life. Her boss, a married man was in love with her..what should she do ? She says he showers her with expensive perfumes. Another man keeps calling her on the phone..she used to just call him JI and said he lived in Andheri..she seemed to hold him in high regard, but said he is married too..She didn’t want to settle down, but did want to make it big in life. Her confidence, her charm, cheerfulness, her playful nature used to draw me out on days I was bored and lonely.

About four months later, my landlady told me that I had to move out as her daughter was coming home with her second husband in Dubai. I had just 15 days to move out. I asked K and she offered me after much deliberation, her friend JI’s flat in Andheri. But I wasn’t comfortable and I said NO, athough I had initially considered it. I moved on and found aunty’s place in Mahim-Matunga Road (West) and then never saw K or heard from her again until..

On a new year’s eve, I was out with friends in Jogeswari and we had decided to go to Fantasy land before partying at a friend’s place . And there I saw her, in shimmering gold, with loud make up, with gaudy earrings and an older man, not P at her side tightly clasping on her while she stood there, a disinterested arm candy. She looked startled on seeing me and then suddenly turned her face , uncomfortable, not just with me being there, but with probably herself..She suddenly got lost in the crowd and I searched for her in the crowd. I did find her later, but as our eyes locked, I realized this was not the K I knew….her mask had just fallen by the wayside.

Bombay ki hawa..3

2010-01-22T19:21:00.008+05:30

There is a wanderer inside all of us, searching for that elusive something. We give it names like love, money, fame, lust, dreams, goals..but try as you may, it is difficult to express that one word. Even the most focussed and determined soul will find it difficult to do so. The problem is most of us, including yours truly do not know what we really want and a bulk of our lives go in searching for that elusive Godot. Those who do not participate in this search, content themselves by just existing,but some of us manage to live a bit of our lives this way. Sometimes even before we know it, time whizzes past like water draining through our fingers, leaving us limp and lost.

Many years ago, when I first set foot in Bombay , I thought I got what I wanted. I also presumed that I knew what I wanted. A career in journalism, a sense of independence and an escape from cloistered life is all that I looked for then. Armed with a happy go lucky attitude, an inquisitive mind for a new challenge, a desire to seek a new experience , I landed in Mumbai, nervous and excited at the same time.
And around me was a collage of several minds all looking towards a new unchartered destiny. But one thing that separated me from my classmates was that I didnt share their fierce competitiveness . Their cut throatness shook me, their overpowering confidence unnerved me as I waited for my chance for a group discussion. I was confident in my own way and unlike my aggressive classmates, I let my assertiveness speak for myself. I wasnt the dark horse, but many told me later that I was like a chameleon, which could change colours..may be that instinct stood by me in later years.

Today I shut my eyes and the group discussion in the wide classroom came to my mind. We were a medley of girls from different states and were as parochial as we could get. The Bengalis stood their ground together, dominating the conversation at one end, the Punjabis at the other end. There were a few Tamilians, Malayalis with the Marathis and almost every single state was represented in the aspiration list. Yet no one could fit into the description called demure. The group discussion was the second round after the examinations and one needed to pass this before graduating to the personal interview session.

We could hear them though the door was shut.There was no room for articulation, only voices trying to shout over the other to put the other down. The judges smiled whenever someone raised their voice to form an opinion. It was important that we all spoke, it was even more important that we spoke our minds ..I got through that day despite the fact that I articulated my thoughts without necessarily interrupting someone..the topic by itself was not so important, it was your communication and your attitude that was given due importance..you either had it or you didnt.

It was also the first time that a naive madrasi learnt and experience a new word in the English language - a word that most of today's 21 year olds wear on their sleeve, a word that I grasped while standing in the verandah of my yet to be classroom , a word that I will hear again and again throughout my career and a word that changed connotations many times - ATTITUDE. If Madras shaped it vaguely , Bombay fine tuned it for me .And in my quest , this attitude gave me company, letting me live my life, while changing gears, while taking major decisions, while hitting my lowest lows, while being dumped, while dumping people..This has been one constant companion, no matter which shore Ive landed in . But today in Bangalore, I seem to have left it somewhere by the wayside and my quest has now multiplied two fold..oh ! how I miss that Bombay ki hawa..

Bombay ki hawa..2

2010-01-10T19:09:00.007+05:30

Standing at the edge of the shore at Nariman Point and looking straight into the Arabian Sea , I was trying to juggle the multiple emotions that raced through my mind. Insecurity jostled for space inside an independent mind. A nervous energy shook me , probably it was a combination of both fear and excitement. It had hardly been a month since I landed in Bombay from Madras and the Arabian Sea was slowly taking over from the Marina Beach.

My life until then could be described by 3 Cs - comfortable, conservative and cloistered. I fought to break the shackles of that world and landed in Bombay as a 21 year old eager like everyone else to charter my own destiny. Bombay may have become Mumbai, but the city then and now remains the city of dreams, where an invisible energy seizes you and you dance along with the frenzied spirit of the city

However the Bombay where I landed was the Bombay of Mani Ratnam. The movie had released a while ago and although tensions abated after the 93-94 bomb blasts, a sense of distrust remained and violence was waiting to happen. I had just sensed it in my own hostel , when R , a soft spoken girl from Pune screamed at her Hindu roomate for dating a Muslim boy. "Do not go to Scandal Point alone with him..you know what happenned last month na.." The film screening in the class yesterday had been Anand Patwardhan's Father,Son and Holy War.

Later in the evening, munching moongfili and looking at the sun setting over the Arabian sea, I wondered if this is the city romanticised by the films . I had met S, the boy R was referring to. We had all gone for movies together. We had even been for dinner and had gone over to meet his friends. He had even confided in me that he had just broken up with his girlfriend. " You South Indians have no clue what happenned and you have been here just a month and you are already trusting strangers..are you mad ?" R had yelled as I tried to support her roommate.

True, I thought today as I pen this memoir. We had no clue of violence and hatred. There were no TV screens with 100 channels breaking the same news nor was there internet and facebook or twitter throwing opinions and photographs at us. The newspapers and magazines were our only source of information and sensationalism was then a bad word . Ironically it was in this world of no mobiles , I landed wanting to become a journalism and study media. Little did I realize that Bombay the city itself was to become my school, where I learnt more than just media studies.

Buzzing

2010-01-10T18:42:00.002+05:30

There is a lot of buzz thats going on at home. Well, it has nothing to do with me directly, but it seems to have caught me in its fold . Im just a little speck being thrown around by the gusty winds with no sense of direction or destination. In a way, the buzz keeps me going. I am not worried about the storm. But I am worried about the calm after the storm. That is when the mind starts becoming stormy and it needs to be calmed.

I love birthdays

2010-01-03T22:46:00.002+05:30

In an hour, I will start celebrating. A special day that reminds me to look at the vast endless spectrum called life, filled with people and emotions. I often spend a few minutes before my birthday to reflect on the special moments and people in my life. Today as I think about the joys and sorrows that made 2009 , I remember some emotions and people from that year. The fear that gripped me when my father was in the hospital, the assurance that I saw in my mother's face, the grin in Sharath's face and (relief in mine)when I came back to the hospital room from the operation theatre, the peace that I saw in aunty's face when she opened her eyes to see me before breathing her last. Some close friends have stayed with me through these troubled phases and have brought me out of some of my worst phases this year.But each phase has been a learning curve as I emerge out of it to celebrate again. I am gifting myself a healthy outlook of life-not just the physical human body, but an overall mental and emotional health too..Ive promised myself that starting now, I will enter into a no conflict zone. Happy Birthday to me.

A shaky beginning

2010-01-02T18:24:00.005+05:30

2010 began shakily. High energy, feel good phase followed by a very low phase exploring the dark facets of the minds. I recovered after 2 months of being extremely sick, only to regress further..Some lessons learnt

When the body is weak, the mind is weaker. No space for emotions then. Time to be silent, when staying calm is not possible.

You cant focus on just physical health. Mental and emotional health are important too.All the recovery is not real unless the mind comes back to normal.

The focus at all times has to be YOU.

Conflicts arise from expectations.

When a certain issue hasnt been resolved for a long period, accept it never will.

A new beginning

2010-01-01T18:51:00.009+05:30

In another few days, I will actually turn a year older and so, in many ways, January goes beyond those three words - Happy New Year . It is indeed a new beginning. Ive just woken up from a deep siesta and I am writing this post with a lot of clarity in my head, although I have no clue what 2010 holds in store for me.

There is a debate inside me that is not yet resolved on the path that I would like to take . I am like the traveller in Frost's Road Not Taken wanting to journey down both the roads simulatenously. The only difference between Frost's traveller and me is that I had already chosen a path and I had stopped mid way down the road for a bit of rest and to enjoy the journey rather than rush to a destination. But a lesser trodden path beckons me enroute , while I feel a sense of remorse to let go of the path already taken.

As I face this Frostian dilemma, I realize that it doesnt matter which path I take, as long as it is full of challenges.I have also realized that the traveller in me will not stop as the quest and zest for life continues irrespective of where I am.A new shore is beckoning me for a while and I wonder if I will get there..I do see myself doing a lot of writing and reading in 2010 besides travelling. I have made a few promises about growing up a bit this year. I would like to avoid conflicts at all levels.

Last year was a roller coaster ride and a bumpy one at it, but has been interesting. I met a lot of people and a few continue the journey with me in 2010. It may be a stereotype to say that people widen your horizons, but its actually amazing to see how each person awakens a side to you, one that is sometimes lying dormant inside you, sometimes even unknown to you. May I get to see more of me this year through friends and strangers. That in itself will be something to look forward to.

The decade that went past

2009-12-31T17:56:00.004+05:30

Im celebrating my birthday in another few days and I wonder how quickly 10 years have whizzed past me..just thinking of many hits and misses that happenned in this decade

I fell in love and got married and made the decision to change my focus from professional to personal..

Turned 30 sometime during the decade..remember crying over it, as I enjoyed the 20s all the way..

Moved from Bangalore to Bombay , then to Bangalore and then to Chennai and now, back to Bangalore..talk abt going in circles !

Quit a career in TV, moved to online when the bust started, and then settled in radio

Realized I enjoy start ups and creating things from scratch.

Took a sabbatical for 2 years and had been on my own at the dawn of the decade and enjoyed it thoroughly.Think I have it in me to be an entrepreneur, but not a consultant.

Learnt to save and even much later to invest.

I realized the writer in me still remained and enjoyed travel writing.Would like this side of me further in 2010

Bit by wanderlust, realized I want to be in the travel space. Travelled quite a bit around the country and even went for a couple of international trips.

Health suffered and weight has been going up and down as fitness levels have come down

Realized I dont need a rich lifestyle to maintain me..my needs are simple

Some of my close friendships have emerged in this decade.A few still remain from the last decade. I still take a long time to make friends

Started blogging and meeting more interesting people and their passions online.

Overall, its been a good decade- from where I started the millenium. A bad year I realized hasnt spoiled the entire basket and I also realize that its all about a perspective..when you look at 10 years that has gone by, a bad job or a bad relationship or even a bad moment doesnt mean anything.What matters is what lasts and in this case, the people around you, the goodwill they bring, the moss that you have gathered in the form of learnings and experience , the health and confidence that you carry is what keeps us going..so in that context 2009 is not such a bad year at all..Except for my health, its been a year where a lot of churn has happenned..and a churn is always good , cos we look at whats left out at the end..not whats gone..Ive got quite a bit on my hands..looking forward to another year and decade...only regret, age is catching up and benchmarks are changing

What a year..

2009-12-30T22:36:00.003+05:30

When I think 2009, Charles Dickens comes to my mind. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times..However, Dickens ends the observation as its not so bad at all, but to me it has been rather bad.

I lost quite a lot of months because of illhealth and learnt it the hard way. While the spirit is still willing, the flesh has resigned. Problems unknown to me in the human body cropped up, complications which had no rationale surfaced and somewhere down the line, my immunity to everything cracked. The mind is weak, the body weaker and the brain dead. The year started with ill health of my dad and ended with mine. If I need something very badly in 2010, its a lot of good health and energy and I need to take baby steps now to get there.

I dont want to walk down the memory lane as far as 2009 is concerned..so will leave it at this..However, 2009 has ended giving me clarity and focus as far as my health is concerned. Its also made me pragmatic and reticent .Its also made me realize that there is no point fretting cos what goes up comes down, feelings and thoughts come and go , people change and everything does have an expiry date..So, I end 2009 on this note

Bombay ki hawa..1

2009-12-22T22:34:00.011+05:30

I have always believed that nostalgia is a world that can be real and yet so illusionary. The laughter, the tears, the voices and the moments from the past are so much a part of you and yet they are so distant . You replay those scenes in your mind, the faces become a collage in the album of memories - they seem so tangible that they can be touched and felt and yet, as they come closer, they vanish into thin air..Nostalgia , according to me is then a contradiction of sorts .

On another note, Bombay is a city of paradoxes. The emotions the city arouse in me are like the currents of an ocean whose depth cannot be fathomed. And yet, I plan to go on a nostalgic trip inside a city like Bombay.When journo, blogger and writer, BG asked me about my Bombay days..all I could do was to sigh initially, waiting for the dormant volcano inside me to become active.

So what do I write about my Bombay days ? Do I talk about my loneliness, my insecurities, my dreams, my coming of age or do I describe the energy and my new found spirit of independence ? The masks worn by the people I met as their ambitions keep pace with the fast life and their companions change by the moment ?

Although I have let the city get under my skin, I wonder if it is a stereotype or a city where you keep peeling one layer after another and see something new every time ? Is it the city of dreams or a city where life passes you by like the fast trains of Virar ? Is it a city whose heart lies in Cuffe Parade or in Meera Road? Is it a city where chalta hai and aage bado rub shoulders with each other?

There is so much to think, feel, say and remember..

New year mantra

2009-12-08T18:18:00.004+05:30

When its December, its time to get all nostalgic and introspective. Its almost like your mind is conditioned to do the same. Its also time to make new year resolutions and promptly forget about them . I do remember writing a post here about my resolutions for either 2008 or 2009 and just like Ive forgotten the year, Ive forgotten my thoughts too..Nevertheless, December is also a reminder that January brings not just another year , but it also makes me a year older. I love my birthday..no matter what the statistics say . But with me getting into the wrong side of the 30s, I would like to create a wishlist for myself in the new year. Well, there are so many wants and most of them tangible and material, but here are the 3 key ones that I need imperatively

1. Health - To begin with ,my skin has reminded me that I am aging..well, not referring to the wrinkles, but Ive developed a new allergy called PMLE - which is a UV rays allergy. My dermatologist says I need to develop immunity ..There are teeth rattling, calling for attention and my knees have given up on me a while ago. So, this is going to be focus one..asanas, gym, healthy food..a sucker is waiting for you..

2.A little bit of common sense - Yea. This Ive realized is decreasing in proportion to my age. I dont mind admitting that Im losing it or lost it, but I hope to gain it back this year.

3.My impatience. Another one I lost in my quest for tolerance. The result. I started tolerating all kinds of people and lost my sense of judgement for a while. I need my impatience back and a sense of urgency in my life.

I have more resolutions and wishlists but lets see where I land up with these 3

Another day in his life

2009-11-27T17:04:00.007+05:30

" What do you want me to write ? " her voice is almost a whisper, but he senses the controlled aggression .

He laughs a bit and pats her hand. "Anything you like, you want, your happy memories, anything you remember.." He gives her a kindly smile, but she cuts him , her voice now rising a bit ."Is this your patronising best? " she glares at him fixing her eyes right into his.

He coughs and turns his head away and tries to smile again, but she retorts as if reading his mind, " Scared arent you, that I might.." He takes a deep breath. The tension between them passes in a moment that can be felt only in the rhythmic beating of the hearts .

"What do you want me to write ?" Her voice becomes a whisper again and she covers her face with her hands.." My most vulnerable moments, my angry days, my depressed thoughts, my violent moods, my lonely pain,my weakest actions...you think I deserve all this ?"she looks almost pleadingly at him, looking for a bit of sympathy.

"No, he replies a bit coldly, rather detached.." Your life is not unique..dont come here looking for pity , now write..

She walks away a few minutes later with the blank paper in hand as he wipes the sweat off his brow, and presses the bell. Another crazy day , thought the psychiatrist as the next patient walks in .

The Pandora Box

2009-11-13T13:44:00.006+05:30

She leaned against the window and shut her eyes tight.The present seemed to ebb into the past. Time, she told herself is an illusion.The night lay threadbare as she unlocked her mind.

The images blurred. But she heard those words .They spoke to her in a different voice. The monotone of the fingers tapping the keyboard, the murmurs, the laughter..they all merged .

It had rained a bit. They told each other stories the entire night.Dont go,he had said then.The rains formed a pattern on the glass . She retraced her steps back in her mind.

The pitter patter dogged her as she let the sound of rains drown those voices but the murmurs grew. They merged with the words that emerged now in front of her. Were they just words, or were they emotions?"Leave," he had said then. He had the last word always.

She reached out to herself. The words stirred in her dead mind. A long lost emotion frozen somewhere in the depths ..She was lost in a timewarp. Time she told herself is not a healer.

She had flung them in the recesses of her mind, as they became fossils. But no body told her that fossils will not disappear. He brought them afore again. The words had a different meaning, but they chased her. The Pandora box had just been opened. Memories flew out. With them came the dead embers of her mind. But the wounds were still fresh.She couldnt feel the pain though.

The rains fogged the window. She stood there still for a very long time, listening to the pitter patter, long after the rain had stopped.

Nostalgia

2009-11-02T09:42:00.008+05:30

I met a college friend yesterday after a gap of nearly 12 years and we created quite a riot.Needless to say, we cracked up over men and matters, women and their foibles and people who had walked in and out of our lives. We spent some time remembering "our aunty" who took care of us, even though we were just PGs ..and we wondered how we managed to retain our sanity in that mad world called media , in a chaotic city called Bombay, which was then home to us;we were the homeless, trying to seek a career and an identity.. For many years, after I left Bombay, I always felt that I carried a part of it in me and I often attribute the city for moulding me and giving me a sense of confidence and individuality..anyways thats for another post..

Coming back to yesterday's evening, we drifted into a blissful past where responsibility just meant to keep our heads above trouble, learning a bit about our careers and people who shaped our careers and to maintain a simple lifestyle with a measly salary . Yet, we were fiercely independent, keen on charting our own destinys and yet learning to enjoy life and its moments..We were a bit naive, says my friend . Not like today's generation, I agree, even though they are probably a decade or more younger than us. And yet, I believe that in our innocence, was our maturity..we were not so insecure, not yet bitten by peer pressure, no wannabe lifestyles for us, no uncalled for attitude . Silent and determind, mad in our own way,we were probably learning to balance a career with independence.We were at the age where we were learning to differentiate between boyfriends and friends who were boys, understanding that flings are not relationships and we were quick to pick up the pieces and move on... We didnt fall by the wayside, yet were grounded enough to realize that ambition was made of sterner stuff and we lived our life according to our terms

The evening passed and with it, a montage of life during the last decade. A decade that was probably a lifetime to us. The vignettes from our past took us on a heady journey where we were on a high and yet not drunk. We were sailing, flying and buzzing past life and yet, when the evening ended, life came back to a standstill. A full stop in many ways. And thats why I say nostalgia is a dangerous thing. It takes you to a real world, a world that features you and yet, a world that you will probably never see again . It hurts even more if its a happier world. It is illusionary, yet not an illusion but it creates a void. Nostalgia chases you all the time..If its a happy memory, we cling to it and are unable to let go. If its sad, well, you dont even want to think about it, even if nostalgia catches up with you . It sends you into a fool's paradise and then takes you down teary lanes and makes you wake up to emptiness.Ultimately it leads you nowhere..

Broken

2009-10-30T20:25:00.002+05:30

Was it a toy or a relationship that just broke ?

For Aunty..

2009-10-23T22:48:00.004+05:30

Its a tragic day for me today. I just lost someone who is very close to me - my aunty, who was one of the reasons I cherished my life in Mumbai..I remember going to her house as a naive 22 year old with no roof over my head,thrown out of my PG of 3 months.It was my first job in Mumbai , with a princely salary of 5K and my friend, Sujata was staying over there. She told me I could stay for 15 days till I found a roof and I slept the first night on the floor in the hall. She apologised to me the next day and told me I could stay with her in her room if I didnt mind and from that day, a deep bond grew between us. We shared our joys and sorrows, cracked up over bhel and boondi raitha, watched movies, had custard and cakes in the nights, bitched about boyfriends and bosses and travelled to quite a few places...I changed cities, but almost every job brought be back to Mumbai again..She would say," Tumhare liye mere ghar me hamesha ek bed hai.." It was more than just that.

In today's day and age, a lot of people come and go out of our lives.Many friendships, relationships break over silly reasons of ego and anger. And the memories fade away.Today,a relationship died but my aunty lives on..my landlady who for a few thousand rupees built a strong emotional bond with me, tolerated my angst and temper, laughed and cried with me and always wished me well..whenever I had a new job ,she would say, " Tum mere ghar se jaa rahe ho..sab achcha hi hoga.." I left her house day before yesterday and will never see her again.Aunty, ham aapko bahut miss kar rahe hain..

Sometimes, you just need to kill your darlings

2009-10-10T08:12:00.007+05:30

I have been going through a severe writer's block for a while. Lack of focus compounded the issue as a few issues were weighing down my mind. My emotional highs and lows added to the entire problem as I am trying to grapple with an incident that happened more than ten days ago. Nevertheless, as I moved on listening to the head rather than the heart, the mind refused to stay focussed.

So I was struggling the entire day having written just one sentence of a 2000 word piece. I almost gave up when Arun, a blogger and friend asked me if I had managed to write the second line. I laughed and sent him the line I had written , telling him to continue from there. He read the line and in his own pragmatic way told me that it is not his kind of line. I replied indifferently that thats the only line I have for now, for words found expression in that single sentence . I shut the system and meditated for a while and then went on a walk.

As I played Arun's reply in my mind, I wondered if the problem was really the writer's block or my own inadequacies or the issues that refused to go away from my mind. Suddenly it struck me that the problem was so in my face and the solution was extremely simple. It was exactly what Arun said. The problem was the opening line. It wasnt a bad sentence , but it wasnt the right line for this particular travelogue that I was writing and hence I could not really continue. It was a deadlock and there was nothing more to say . In other words, I had to change the approach and the thought process.

I returned to my desk and changed the first line and sat down to write my story .My first cut of 1800 words poured out in less than three hours. I did struggle and several parts still need to be rewritten, but I had crossed the initial hurdle. After 12 hours of holding on to a single sentence, I deleted it and wrote 1800 words in less than 3 hours.Sometimes I realized you need to stop clinging and just need to kill your darlings cos they dont really work out.

I paused for a moment after writing like a demon possessed and wondered why I did not apply this logic to the other issues weighing on my mind. Probably, if I had the right approach, the incident would not have happenned at all to begin with , but whats done cant be undone. Nevertheless, I realized that I could still use the thought to get over it. After all, its just about changing the line, the thought, the approach and your own point of view, wrt people or issues. Its about realizing that whether its people or thoughts, you need to stop clinging on to them and kill your own darlings, cos they may not be the right ones for you.I just did .

Another journey

2009-09-29T09:27:00.004+05:30

Very often I travel to get away from it all .The call of the jungle, the lure of the beaches and the allure of the mountains are sometimes I think just an excuse to escape from certain complexities of life and lose myself in unknown environs.

September saw me travelling to dizzying heights. I went up the highest motorable road in Ladakh at 18,000 feet and more and then took off to the cooler climes of Shimla and Mashobra and then closer home into the wilder jungles of Kabini. And yet, I didnt manage to lose myself. My thoughts chased me whereever I went ..

And finally the wild waters of Kabini helped me let go ..As I landed back in Bangalore, I felt a sense of being grounded .It was a reality check. It took me a while to come to terms with it . Im now back to doing what I like the most.Moving on.

As I chill at home, being at peace with myself, I internalize the new learnings from every journey . And the longest journey called life moves on, as I pick myself up and continue to chug at my own pace, clearing the cobwebs and cutting down the clutter. Im staying at home for a change to energise myself before embarking on a new journey.After all, when you have withdrawal symptoms, the only way to get rid of it is to get back on your feet again and move on..

Musings by the sea shore

2009-08-09T21:45:00.006+05:30

The mountains beckon some, the forests lure you, there is a charm in an old heritage monument and a certain peace in a remote town . I often get lost in new worlds, some that let me escape the mundane realities of life.

But when my mind is restless, I often seek the waves. The ebb and flow of the waters reassure me, the fury of the waves calm me down, the foam bathes my mind and the endless space of sand, water and sky give me an immense faith in life. I realize I am a microcosm in this entire universe and nothing can change the dynamics of life. The rhythm must go on..some waves are rough, some gentle , some gather around your feet,letting your toes feel the illusion of being embedded in the sand, but they let go eventually,

However the colours change as I watch the entire skyscape enact a drama in front of me . Colours of life , I call them - rose, crimson, blue, grey fill the sky as it becomes an open palette.The fluffy white clouds flit in and out ,wrapping the sky in its fold, moving from one end to another. They change their shapes , gather around together to form a big white mass where little streaks of sunlight stream out. Sometimes there is a bit of a conflict in this paradise..where dark clouds throw a veil over the brighter ones, leaving the sky in a grey tone. Life I realize is a rainbow of colours, except we do not get to choose the palette.

I watch as the shore clings on to the waves, but it ebbs leaving the foam behind ..even that evaporates only to be washed away by another wave that drags a bit of the sand with it..I wonder if relationships are like that. The waves erase the memories, the shore tries to cling, the essence is absorbed by the shore and the sea as they carry a bit of each other when they embrace..only to eventually let go. The rocks at a far end are mute spectators to this spectacle. They remain silent as the waves unleash their emotions on them. Sometimes they lash at them, sometimes they embrace, but the rocks do not respond. Sometimes I wonder if this is what they refer to as being rock solid.

I see humans living by the sea, of the sea and I wonder if their understanding of life is much better than us urbanites who worry about mundane issues . As i grapple to understand my destiny and the forces that work within them, I look around and see the entire cycle play out in front of me.

I leave my footprints on the sands of time and wonder if my dreams will come true and if they would be etched for ever, when a wave flows up to me and let the foam curl around my ankles and erase those footprints away.Destiny I realize is not always written by us. We just get to think we play a role here. A little breeze blows past my face and the voice of the waves echo in my ears..Let Go...They say, you give back to the sea something that is important to you..I did just that.I left a part of me, left behind my mind and my thoughts so that I could feel the spacelessness and nothingness inside me, and the voice still tugs in my ears..Let Go...

Shades of grey

2009-06-26T19:41:00.006+05:30

I believe the world is enveloped in shades of grey. Colours like black and white are sheer reflections of the colour.

Look around us and we realize the concept of good and bad is extremely subjective and relative. Do I believe in a perfect world or a perfect person or a perfect life ? According to me, its too ideal a thought to even exist .

Inside all of us lurk grey thoughts and emotions which do not surface unless we look harder. Sometimes, we do not wish to see or feel them and tend to push them under the carpet of human emotions. Many times, we do not even wish to come to terms with them. But try as we may, we cannot refuse to acknowledge or justify or even wish them away..and I think thats part of being human.

State of mind now - Restless, edgy, escapist, confused & angry with self. Above all feeling human

All's right with the world

2009-06-25T08:07:00.004+05:30

My mind is brimming with a series of disconnected thoughts and emotions. They are disconnected because there seems to be no logical connection between each other. My mind is hyperactive .

Following one's thoughts is like walking into a maze..sometimes you do not have a way out and yet, its an interesting journey . A thought abruptly ends or disappears or merges with another thought. Sometimes a completely different stream of thought picks up from where one leaves( I choose not to use the word ends, as I do not believe there is an end )and moves on to another thread.

Here is an attempt to follow and express one of my thoughts which seemed to have a flow..I think I managed to track this down the maze and here it is...

I woke up this morning trying to stay positive - weed out negative thoughts, influencers and triggers. It wasnt meant to be. My mind was pregnant with a lot of worries and cares. Fear found its place in it- fear of facing pain, dealing with the aftermath of pain and a sense of futility and fighting alone. I was confused and wondered if I wanted to go through this. I didnt have an answer to it.It was pulling me down . I needed strength and I wasnt sure where to find it. Something told me that it was probably lurking inside me . A minor disappointment added to it. I realized that my mind had lost its ability to deal with NO's. I needed my safety net.

I walked up to the lake, hoping to lose myself in the crowd. While I was tempted to seek solitude, sometimes feeling alone in a crowd gives you the same feeling. As I was walking,listening to the voice of nature, I saw myriad feet walk along with me..some walking towards me, some walking away from me. I didnt look up to see the faces as the momentum of the feet fascinated me . There was a movement in life, of people walking along, chugging their own burdens, their worries, their joys , their little moments carrying on with life.

A gentle breeze stroked me, brushing against my hair, almost lifting me from the surface of earth. I felt like I was travelling outside my body .Like sand particles, the breeze dusted my cares away.The sky was covered with small puffy clouds huddled together,creating another pattern as the sun tried to peep outside and look down on earth

I watched the ripples on the lake . Each one was erased by another,while more ripples formed, overwriting each other. And yet, the lake flowed in peace, calm and quiet,feeding the birds, the fish , the insects . The breeze mischievously disturbed the patterns but the lake seemed to create it all over again.

I paused after an hour of walking and looked at the momentum in nature. The whole world seems to tell me that I was just a microcosm in this entire universe and my cares are probably too microscopic to be even ackowledged. They were one of the many ripples on the lake, constantly erased by the powers of nature. And its only us humans that make a big deal about a single negative moment, a bad day or a minor disappointment . Nature just erases them without bothering to analyse or even think about them.

I moved on realizing that I have to do what I have to do, go through what I have to go through and move on...

Just remembered Frost, " In three words, I can sum up what life is.It goes on."

Shadows ...

2009-06-23T23:03:00.005+05:30

She looked at their long thin shadows that drew a pattern on the sand. They were distortions, an exaggeration of their relationship, she thought. Shadows can never be real .And yet, they are an extention of the self as they can never exist by themselves.

Her mind flitted through the various shadows of the past that merged into the present. The shadows of relationships, the murmurs of conversations, the echoes of laughter ..she carried them with her. And yet, as every relationship faded into another shadow, she wondered why she hadnt learnt from them

Where do you draw the line ? Questions punctuated her mind. There was a conflict of emotions. The feeling was too strong to shrug it away and yet, it was just a shadow of an emotion that flitted in and out of her mind.

The shadows of the past interrupted her . The vulnerable moments, the emotional dependency ..she wished she could let go, feel a sense of gay abandon . And yet, she wondered whether she had let her guard down .

The sun changed directions and the shadows diminished . Were they for real, she asked herself or just empty emotions to fill the void ? She walked into the mind of the shadow..did she really feel them or were they just shadows of her own feelings.

They were delusions like the shadows she pursued .Her dilemma continued. Should she step outside the shadow and see the real world or step outside the shadow and let them see the real her ?

Silence spoke to her..

2009-06-23T01:29:00.008+05:30

She heard the voice of silence calling out to her. It spoke to her in a calm, soft tone. Touching the deep recesses of her mind, drowning the murmurs of whispers that rose , it reached out to her, reassuringly.

Her mind lay swollen like a flooded reservoir unable to contain the barrage of emotions that drowned her thinking. She looked at the static sky and wondered about the dynamics of life. The night was quiet, veiled in a thick blanket of clouds, shutting life out, lulling the energies and presumably lost in a deep slumber.

She looked again and the night sky opened up its mysteries to her. It lay naked but potent . She saw a certain brightness in it, a vibrant spirit , a wave that swept her and gently washed her , cleansing her .She wondered at the energy the night sky concealed within its fold. The momentum thats hidden, that one doesnt see and feel- the tiny stars that twinkle, the thin layer of clouds that move, the waning moon that shines, the gentle breeze that touches your skin.

The emotions left her, leaving her with a sense of nothingness that made her feel complete. Her mind was like a seive that filtered them out while the vacuum filled her. She could feel her thoughts empty her being, passing through her self like wind blowing through the surface of waters causing gentle ripples but not affecting the flow . She could feel the rhythm , the slow rocking of emotions that filled her with a passion that gently released itself from her clutches, unlocking her .

It was a feeling that she could identify with - a sense of being lost,to be a microcosm in this entire universe doing its little bit to be a cog in the wheel.

She felt a sense of ablution . The thoughts bathed her down,leaving her empty and yet full. She embraced this vacuum, it filled her with peace .

She started to unthink . Let go said the voice of silence and she just stood there watching herself being released .

When you get defocussed

2009-03-16T19:01:00.004+05:30

email
Con call
no response
fruits
chapathi
buy saree
proposal
blog
next trip
study

Not so much in this order, but of late my mind has been travelling through various aspects of my life without any flow or a thread connecting them. I decided to close my eyes for a few secs and note down the 10 random words that flowed one after the other and here is the above list..somewhere down the line, I get this sense Im running to catch something that doesnt exist.A blur veils my eyes and the restlessness seems to be bogged down by a sense of defocus. There is negative energy running through my veins and Im currently at a loss to stem this flow or probably channelise the flow..There, the doorbell rings..

Brevity - my mantra for 2009

2009-01-05T09:16:00.004+05:30

Brevity, they say is the soul of wit. Ive also realized after 3 and a half decades of experience that it is also the soul of happiness . So, my mantra for 2009 is going to be brevity - economise not just in terms of material wealth , but in terms of expressions and emotions as well..Hope I do succeed.

The new year mantra

2009-01-02T14:48:00.004+05:30

"That which is creative must create itself. " I had closed my eyes for a few minutes for a siesta and my mind suddenly threw up this quote . Many years ago, as a student I was fascinated by this line, spoken by my favourite poet, John Keats and often used it to sound academic .

My mind pushes my eyes to be open and shoved sleep away as I wondered..why did this line spring itself in my subconscious..is it suggesting a way to reinvent oneself from slumberland ?

"That which is creative must create itself."

How are human beings valued ?

2008-11-12T19:38:00.003+05:30

Two separate incidents that happenned over the last few days have got me thinking..How are human beings being valued ? Is it purely on their utility value or is there a respect for age, emotions, relations , bond, past achievements ? The incidents by themselves cannot be compared as we are looking at oranges and apples here, but they tell a common story.

The first one was narrated to me by X. In their office, a top management personnel who was once responsible for putting in strategies and systems in place was probably asked to leave as he was now redundant. In the days of recession, his CTC was not working out. He was probably a mentor to a few, but now there was no use for him in the organization. That apart, he had burnt bridges and could not handle politics.

Being in the corporate world, we have always learnt that everything comes with an expiry date and we are as good as our last assignment and we must learn to look at the writing on the wall, long before it is too late. So, for most of us, this is just another day in the corridors of power and another casualty on the block. And the survival is always about the fittest, recession or otherwise.

The other incident was much closer home and was straight out of a saas bahu serial, except that it does not refer to the women folk. A recent marriage ceremony threw enough light on who is wanted, who is respected, who is of use (the word being " help") and who is redundant . Respect and redundancy go hand in hand. You are given respect if you are not redundant and are of use to the families . A senior couple, well past their 60s and a bit unfit health wise due to certain ailments found themselves cold shouldered in a wedding they had attended in a city as they could not be of much use to the wedding party. They were not from the city and the reason attributed to the indifference was many - many people to look after ,there was "family" to take care of the couple and the couple themselves were part of the wedding party and they should probably take care of themselves .

I will not go into details here , but the long and short of it was that the two stories brought out one common thought..how are human beings being valued ? Is there an emotional bond, respect for seniority and a value for your past achievements and success or is it the sheer usefulness of an individual that is being taken into account. In corporate life, it is probably taken for granted...but in families too ... ?

I think I can read the writing on the wall..what do you say ?

A book tag

2008-10-05T08:45:00.007+05:30

I love reading and I had almost given it up but for last year when I put the sabattical to good use..here is a tag that I picked up from Mridula and I thought I will give it a shot as its about books. I am supposed to bold the ones I have read , underline those that I have read in school and italice the ones I have started and not finished..A lot will be in the latter...The underline key seems to be not working -so will mark the ones I have read in school in bold as well. The interesting thing is that I have reread all these books again after school.

1. Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell
2. Anna Karenina
3. Crime and Punishment
4. Catch-22
5. One Hundred Years of Solitude
6. Wuthering Heights-read it again after school
7. The Silmarillion
8. Life of Pi: a novel
9. The Name of the Rose
10. Don Quixote
11. Moby Dick -In school
12. Ulysses
13. Madame Bovary
14. The Odyssey
15. Pride and Prejudice-read it again
16. Jane Eyre-read it again
17. The Tale of Two Cities-read it again and again
18. The Brothers Karamazov
19. Guns, Germs and Steel
20. War and Peace
21. Vanity Fair-read it in school
22. The Time Traveler's Wife
23. The Iliad
24. Emma
25. The Blind Assasin
26. The Kite Runner
27. Mrs. Dalloway
28. Great Expectations
29. American Gods
30. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
31. Atlas Shrugged
32. Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books
33. Memoirs of a Geisha
34. Middlesex
35. Quicksilver
36. Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West
37. The Canterbury Tales
38. The Historian: A Novel
39. A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
40. Love in the Time of Cholera
41. Brave New World
42. The Fountainhead
43. Foucault's Pendulum
44. Middlemarch
45. Frankenstein
46. The Count of Monte Cristo
47. Dracula
48. A Clockwork Orange
49. Anansi Boys
50. The Once and Future King
51. The Grapes of Wrath
52. The Poisonwood Bible
53. 1984
54. Angels and Demons
55. Inferno
56. The Satanic Verses
57. Sense and Sensibility
58. The Picture of Dorian Gray
59. Mansfield Park
60. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
61. To the Lighthouse
62. Tess of the D'Urbervilles
63. Oliver TwistIn school
64. Gulliver's TravelsIn school
65. Les MiserablesIn school
66. The Correction
67. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay
68. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time
69. Dune
70. The Prince
71. The Sound and the Fury
72. Angela's Ashes: A Memoir
73. The God of Small Things
74. A People's History of the United States: 1492-present
75. Cryptonomicon
76. Neverwhere
77. A Confederacy of Dunces
78. A Short History of Nearly Everything
79. Dubliners
80. The Unbearable Lightness of Being
81. Beloved
82. Slaughter House- five
83. The Scarlett Letter
84. Eats, Shoots and Leaves
85. The Mists of Avalon
86. Oryx and Crake
87. Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed
88. Cloud Atlas
89. The Confusion
90. Lolita
91. Persuasion
92. Northanger Abbey
93. The Catcher in the Rye
94. On the Road
95. The Hunchback of Nortre Dame
96. Freakonomics
97. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Enquiry into Values
98. The Aeneid
99. Watership Down
100. Gravity's Rainbow
101. The Hobbit
102. In Cold Blood: A True Account of a Multiple Murder and its Consequences
103. White Teeth
104. Treasure Island-My favourite
105. David Copperfield-Read in in school
106. The Three Musketeers-Read it again and again

The Mirror

2008-09-22T19:43:00.004+05:30

The glass looked a bit worn out and discoloured. The grime had stuck to it like glue and stubborn patches made their mark in the otherwise shiny surface . But he didnt seem to mind. It had become a habit for him to stand in front of it for a few minutes everyday.The glare of the sun reflected through the glass. The eyes stared back at him. Cold, unemotional. He was not looking at the dry tanned skin nor the lines that had etched themselves. He had that ageless look about him. He pushed a strand of smooth wavy hair that had fallen over his eyes . He splashed water on his eyes and stared again . Those eyes bored into his , almost piercing through him. He looked away disappointed .

It was a daily ritual. The mirror seemed to tell him something.It showed him his tanned skin, his bright features, his cold eyes, his deep lines, his ageless face - but it could not show him something that he was been looking for all these years...his IDENTITY .

Have you ever gone through this phase ?

2008-09-05T10:35:00.003+05:30

1. Clogged by your own thoughts
2. Drained by your dreams
3. Exhausted by thinking

Boomerang

2008-08-20T16:46:00.002+05:30

Sometimes life is like a game of boomerang. Words hurl only to hurt us. We think we are hurt by others and retaliate by hurting them and they in turn hurt us back. In the end, we are the ones who are hurt . We think someone hurts us, but actually we have hurt ourselves.

Plunging..

2008-07-10T14:07:00.004+05:30

The blue green waters beckoned her. She moved towards the wave, wondering what it will be like to be caressed by it. Her head bobbed..she floated for a while before traces of her became a ripple. The voices were a distant mumble. The fish surrounded her.The oceans swallowed her only to open out new depths ..But this is a world that she will never know

Musings..

2008-06-10T14:18:00.002+05:30

Go with the flow..the inner voice said..I am, I am she replied, wondering if there is a flow at all ..

Hurt...the pain is usually caused by us

2008-04-11T08:34:00.004+05:30

There are several injuries that are inflicted on us..A small cut, a slip here and a bruise there..physical injuries are often healed, though the pain, the scars still remain.

And there are the bruises, hidden, unknown to us caused by emotions and people, who constantly inflict the same wound again and again. No amount of insensitivity can cure this, as the mind heals only to 'unheal' again...yet, there is hope as we steel ourselves and pretend to be strong and believe that such emotions do not exist and such people are not required - or we agree to forgive and forget, only to realize that its not human after all to do so...

But finally the wound that never heals is that caused by us, on us. When we hurt ourselves, sometimes knowingly, sometimes willingly , when we allow others to hurt us, inviting the pain, the scars ...those open wounds never heal..when will we ever learn this ?

Memoir in six words

2008-03-20T18:49:00.003+05:30

Ceedy had an interesting post on writing a memoir in six words..this is the first thing that struck me about myself

I am not what I am .

Why do I travel ?

2008-03-17T15:00:00.004+05:30

Am I an escapist ?
Am I searching for something?
Am I lured by wanderlust?
Am I looking for something new?
Am I running away ?
Is it a fear of the routine?
Is it the energy missing in my life?
Is it to avoid people ?
Is it something I am trying to prove to myself ?
Is it to get lost ?

8 is not my lucky number...

2008-03-09T15:24:00.006+05:30

Another tag..this time its about all things 8. Aarti has tagged me and here I am thinking about ..

8 songs I like

Im more into retro Hindi and tamil music , so I am listening currently to

1.Tum Pukar Lo - Hemant kumar, Khamoshi

2.Sun Ja Dil Ki Dastaan - Hemant Kumar, Jaal

3.Baar Baar Dekho - Mohd Rafi, China Town

4.Woh Shaam Kuch Ajeeb thi - Kishore Kumar, Khamoshi

5.Nilaave Vaa - SPB, Mouna Ragam

6.En Iniya Pon Nilave - Yesudas, Moodu Pani

7.Raaja Raaja Cholan - Yesudas, Reetai Vaal Kuruvi

8.Kaatre - Johnny

8 things I want to do before I die - Ive done this already, but here is a quick synopsis

1.Travel and see as many places before I die

2.Write a book

3.Set up a little company of own own

4.Build a small house with big trees, gardens, streams around and live close to nature

5.Understand my roots better

6.Take my mother to the Himalayas

7.I want to be a better cook

8.And I want to control my temper

8 things I say often ..

1.Ummm or Aaan

2.Where are we going (as in travelling )next ?

3.Chill na

4.I want to sleep

5.You know what

6.I dont feel like cooking

7.Damn funny

8.I have an idea

8 books Ive read recently

1.Kite runner

2.The Case of the Bonsai manager

3.Pigs have Wings

4.Myth = Mithya

5.Devil and Miss Prym

6.Daughter of China

7.A Tale of Two Cities

8.Murder in the Orient Express

8 things that attract me to my friends.. I dont know and I am just guessing
1.Sense of humour

2.I listen at least I pretend to

3.I do not impose - live and let live

4.Im quite chilled out - simple, not many hang ups

5.Dependent - maybe to a certain extent..

6.My hubby says its a steak of madness in me ..

7.I dont expect anything - so it suits them

8. ...I dont know - I leave it to a friend to add

8 things I am passionate about

1.Travelling

2.Books

3.Writing

4.Sleeping

5.My space

6.History & Mythology

7.Cashewnuts

8.Calvin and Hobbes

Ok..Im not tagging anyone..so if anyone is interested, pls pick it up and let me know..

The winds of change

2008-03-04T16:58:00.005+05:30

The winds of change were blowing - hot, humid, strong and powerful - right in her direction. She stood her ground, but they swept her off her feet. In their grip, she was as light as cotton, swaying like clouds, mesmerised by the blue sky of opportunities that lay in front of her. A brave new world lay right in front of her as she danced to their tune , losing her body, will and mind ..

And then they dropped her as she dangled precariously from the sky refusing to hit the ground , rudderless with no place called home..and then she realized the clouds were just vapour, the sky didnt exist ; it was just a vacant space that looked blue sometimes .And so she dropped on to the ground with a thud ..gathering her limbs, her wit and mind and holding on to her own ..

Many years passed. The sun shone brightly from the sky. The earth grew warmer and warmer.Days followed nights like slices of bread, identical pieces filling up the entire loaf, the void called life. Time stood still. She was wrapped in space. The seasons changed. The trees looked down on her as she gazed at them fondly, expectantly every morning . She watched every movement in the trees as a gentle breeze shook the leaves, rocked a branch, lifted a bird ..a tender touch here , a biting nip there . But the breezes stopped after a while..She continued waiting..The stillness, the routine, the silence - She longed for the winds of change..would they ever blow in her direction again..for good or bad..she needed them to live again !

The Secret Seven Tag

2008-02-25T16:58:00.005+05:30

Whenever I run out of inspiration to write a post, I get tagged and lo ! a post is born.This time my muse is Smita, who has tagged me to talk about seven facts about myself..While I was trying to ask the question who or what am I , a few surprises came my way too as I realized what I think I am is not really what I am today ..nevertheless , honesty prevails ..so here I am - exposed !!

1. My name is Lakshmi Sharath, born in Madras, based in Bangalore and trying hard to connect with the city. A media professional who after 15 years of work is now taking a sabattical (really?)Ok..No, actually am trying to set up something in the online travel space in the garb of a break and is hoping will actually go places !!

2.Things I cannot resist - packing my bags,cashewnuts, chocolates and ice cream, comedy films with popcorn, Calvin and Hobbes and PG Wodehose books

3.What I need desperately - 8 hours sleep

4.My fears -lizards, darkness,my temper,migraine, having no alternatives and rotting and wasting away life

5.I am very impulsive, impatient and easily prejudiced ...and usually takes a while to knock a notion off my head..

6.I am extremely restless, hyperactive and grow out of my interests , jobs very quickly..I constantly need new things, challenges..my parents always used to say that I have wheels on my feet and my hubby thinks its a challenge to channelise my energies.

7.I used to hate posing for photographs as a kid and I still do..most of my pictures dont show me smiling..

As usual,its the end and I dont want to tag anyone in particular..its great to read about all your secret seven thoughts-so I request all of you who drop in here to pick up the thread and if you want me to read abt it, pls drop in a comment and let me know

Tagged - Question time !

2008-02-10T10:15:00.000+05:30

Ceedy has just tagged me...so here I am with more answers to questions

1) What if the world suddenly decided to rotate in the other direction?
I will go round and round too..

2) Name Three Most Valuable Assets?
my sense of humour, zest for life, writing

3) If you have the chance, what would you probably say to your beloved one?
Im surprised that you married me !

4) If you were to be stranded on a deserted island, who are the 3 blog buddies you would take with you?
All my buddies who are excited about travel.. cant decide on any 3 though

5) Where is the place that you want to go the most?
Greece !

6) If you can have 1 dream to come true, what would it be?
Travel and see all the places thats in my wishlist

7) Till now, what is the moment that you regret the most?
I dont regret. I move on .."This too will pass"

8) What are you afraid to lose the most?
My optimism

9) What would you do if you found a briefcase full of money?
Leave it right there and inform the cops and the press

10) If you meet someone that you love, would you confess to him/her?
i dont think you need to confess ..

11) List out 3 good points of the person who tagged you
Ceedy - Sense of humour, full of life, positive attitude
(just guessing)

12) What are the requirements that you wish from your other half?
Live and let live

13) Which type of person do you hate the most?
Selfish and greedy people..though I cannot hate anyone, I will just ignore and be indifferent to them..

14) What is your ambition?
To set up my own company

15) What is the thing that will make you think someone is a bad person?
Someone who uses you as a friend and manipulates you and throws you away after using you..

16) If you could do one thing different in life, what would it be?
Relook at my friendships..have lost a few good ones due to not communicating with them and trusted some people whom I wished I had not

17) Something which made u laugh today
The fact that I woke up so early this morning, being a sunday

18) How do you deal with a friend who has wronged you ?
Ignore them and try to forget that they were ever your friend..this of course depends on the kind of wrong...

19) How important is love for you to get physically intimate with a person ?
Very .

20) Name one favorite song of yours.
There are many..different songs for diff moods .
Now I am listening to Billy Joels River of dreams

Normally I dont tag anyone, but if anyone finds this interesting -pls consider yourself tagged !

She ..

2008-01-16T18:23:00.001+05:30

Her eyes looked vacantly into space. The world no longer embraced her. It stared right back at her, almost accusingly . She stood transfixed for a moment , paralysed.

She could almost feel the silence, cold and oppressive engulfing her .The skies were no longer blue- just harsh , blinding her. There was something more than silence. She felt it, but did not know what it was. The murmurs had begun. Something crept on her arms .Its out to get you , the voices said . She shivered a bit, turned abruptly. There was nothing.

She was incapable of thought or action. The air grew thicker. She closed her eyes tightly . She tried to hear her own mind.There was silence ..she opened her mouth to scream . A sigh emerged. A weak voice from inside. She pressed her ears hard, turned inward ..concentrate , she urged . Deep breaths. A beating heart. Silence . She gave up.

The vacuum had sucked her out. Life, energy, thoughts. She was breathing . But not living .

Impressions -2

2008-01-02T18:29:00.001+05:30

The world was my home. A haven of comfort, love and affection . What we probably understand as security and contentment today .

It was a huge bungalow with several rooms, halls , verandahs. The voices were still there..the laughter .The boom of the old grandfather clock, the shrill ring of the ancient black telephone, the sun filtering through the grilled windows and the green mosaic floors ..images that still linger in memory , trying to forge a connection today to things that do not exist .

There were hardly any walls – spaces just flowed into each other..doors opened into more spaces called rooms, halls, verandahs.. The verandahs led to the lawns, a vast expanse of green bordered by the trees, the flowers...Voices from haystacks and garages still echo as we, kids used to scurry around and play hide and seek. Except for some bedrooms, everything was open ..life as well . I could see myself - an eight year old, running from one room to another, missing a foot here, jumping from the stairs, a sense of freedom , of belonging ..

The power of transfiguring is that its worse than demolition. When you transform something beautiful and ancient laden with memories into something thats far away from the original, you take the life out of it..Its like living without the ability to feel or think. I believe that you need to have a twisted mind to kill something like that ...memories are living organisms and by transfiguring it, you have killed them .There is no grandfather clock....the boom is only for certain ears to listen, the green mosaic is now a dull yellow , there is no sun, the windows are now walls, there are no spaces and there is a clear NO ENTRY spelt everywhere . Its all closed now ...Walled. There is no laugher. Just silence . Its a funny feeling as I stepped inside . A feeling of intrusion , a feeling that I was trespassing . Yet ,it was home once, for more than a decade .And yet, it no longer today is, though its still within the family

Impressions of a mind

2007-12-28T11:54:00.001+05:30

Hi ! I am the mind of an eight year old ..maybe ten ..but I think I have not evolved beyond that . Many decades have swept past, but I am still young . No, I am not childish or immature ..Ive learnt to think ,understand, accept and express..but some of my impressions have not changed..they are what they are when they were eight years old. These impressions are about people , places and events that are recorded ..the adult mind tried to supress me sometimes or merge the perspectives..but I think my impressions are clear.They are recorded in black and white and I am going to tell you what I think.

My first impressions were about good vs bad people. Goodness was associated with kind, affectionate and loving people who gave us gifts, spoke nice words and made us laugh. Bad was associated with people who were rude, jealous, get angry often , selfish who refused to help when in need and were often indifferent. We didnt know what arrogance, cunning and cheating was then . These were just the parameters to judge good or bad.

I was told that I was good when I was silent, smiled , studied well and listened to elders and bad when I got angry and screamed, behaved badly (never knew what that really meant), didnt get 10/10 and refused to listen .Then there were good manners and bad manners. I didnt know if I was a good or a bad child, but always felt that there was always someone better than me . So, I gave up competing (Or did I ? Or is the adult mind in me talking ?)

This post is dedicated to Kamalee , one of my close friends who has been after me to write ..and my mind is now racing..So I dont know if its a good thing or a bad thing

(To be continued ..)

A day in his life

2007-11-20T21:02:00.001+05:30

The swagger, the smile. He was born with it. The arrogance, the attitude. He loved to flaunt it.

A beam of the morning sun fell scross his face . With a violent jerk, he pulled the curtains apart. The soft rays filled his room . He glared back at the sun. He knew his gaze was more powerful. He cannot have a competitor in his lifetime. He was the rising sun

He knew he was going to win..he had known it always.Luck or skill, he didnt care . He was always told that he was a winner and he let everyone know that . The losers didnt just lose just money or fame, for he made sure that they lost their self respect, their strength . "Never allow them to rise . They should never be able to rise, his scheming mentor told him ." He didnt believe in mentors either. They were there till he needed them - just another gratification

He had it all and he knew he never had to work for it. He simply claimed it . Others just bore his burden .

He smiled. It was a smirk . He mocked destiny. It was in his control. He loved it all. The adulation, the adoration , the admiration. The applause still rang in his ears.

The sky changed colours. Blue,pink, purple,black. The colours of life. Time moved. On the other hand, time stood still . He walked into the room. The curtain was drawn .Silence strangled him. He sat on the edge of the bed and the tears rolled. Sobs pierced through the silence. Like a hungry animal, the scream erupted from his insides and ripped through his throat . A savage cry .He raved, roared and fell in agony..he lay drained, his head covered under the pillow, his face drenched by his tears and sweat. Silence . He knew it then. He had it all yet he had nothing

Eyes

2007-11-17T12:04:00.001+05:30

She couldnt get over those pair of eyes. They haunted her . Cold, glassy, harsh. ..She averted her eyes as the gazes met . Sharp and steely they pierced through her almost cutting her insides.

It was a beautiful, innocent face ..Soft, fair and childlike. But a face that you wouldnt give a second glance , a face easy to forget amongst the millions that we face everyday..Yet those eyes made the face unforgettable ..

Something told her that the eyes did not belong to the face . The lips curved into a smile, but the eyes burnt like fire . A glare that almost burnt her face as she looked into them .

She closed her eyes and lay back ..thinking about the day, people who have made her day and those who didnt ..And only the eyes stared back..Was there a hurt she saw , an anger that spoke through them , a cruel act that was witnessed ? She would never know because she had never asked ..And the face became faceless except for those eyes..

Sleep beckoned .

Dreams, desires and death

2007-11-11T20:29:00.001+05:30

Pijush has tagged me again and this time its about dreams and desires that I want to fulfill before I die ... I have a lot of them,so hopefully death will wait awhile- a morbid thought indeed..but kal kya ho kisne jaana ?

1. Travel - I will start with the obvious and this will be the longest ..as a vagabond, all I want is the heavens above and a road below ..and while I want to travel and see as many places as possible, some are must . Amongst international destinations, I want to go to the Mediterranean including Greece, Italy and Egypt , UK (must see Keats' home and country houses that PG Wodehose describes in his books) and France .

In India, I want to visit Lakshwadeep, Ladakh, Himachal and Uttaranchal and Rajasthan , especially the palaces, forts and the hevelis . I want to trek to Gangotri and Gomukh and the Valley of Flowers .I also want to visit Rameshwaram, Thanjavur , Karwar and travel down the Buddhist trail . I want to see as many wild life sanctuaries as possible and see a tiger at least once in the wild. I want to learn names of all Indian birds and learn to identify them in the wild .

2. Roots - I want to get in touch with my roots and understand more about my ancestors. I want to go to as many villages as possible and see where my ancestors came from and go back in time.I will include my husband's family as well in this quest

3.Live in a small town/ village - I want to live away from the city , in a small Utopia that exists ..

4.Take my parents to The Himalayas . Especially my mother .

5.My dream company - My vision . I want to set it up and see it grow . I want to be an entrepreuner .

6.Write - I want to write a book - the story of the people I have met in my life ..I want to pursue my literary interests again..

7.My dream home - This is a bit materialistic..but I want to have a dream home tucked away in a corner..a small cottage built in ethnic style , with envirnoment friendly materials with huge trees and gardens and streams flowing around ..with birds and fish giving me company

8.Cook - I want to be a good cook !

9.My nature - I want to learn to be calm and patient and control my temper

10.My death - I want to live ...and live life to the fullest and I want my friends and family around me always

Tagged - Why I write what I write

2007-11-11T19:46:00.001+05:30

Rusty has made my rusted grey cells think a bit ...so here I am asking myself why I do what I do...I am supposed to put my thoughts on writing ...so here goes .Ive tried to be as spontaneous as I can be .

Why Write ?

Its like breathing ..It makes me feel that I am alive . I write as its the most natural, spontaneous thing to do...It eases a clogged mind..Its instant gratification , like ice cream ..above all its an addiction . It helps me keep in touch with my core self and gives form to the various facets within me . It creates a picture that exists only in my mind ..Its like a waterfall , where words just burst forth creating a sequence , sometimes drawn by an invisbile force ..Its like what Keats said - That which is creative must create itself !

When to write ?

In the loo, while asleep ...no, I am not joking. Writing is just not putting words to paper or screen ..its also putting words to an abstract thoughts that keep raising their heads . I believe that there is no fixed time to write ...just keep your mind awake and let the words flow

What to write ?

Truth is stranger than fiction ! Sometimes its the truth thats hidden deep in the subconscious thats more interesting than stories.. Yet , I write about life ..the frailities and the foibles, the small ,insignificant experiences , the joy of discovery , people who matter and who didnt, memories that refuse to go away and places that are etched forever in our mind and opinions that you want others to hear .. I paint the picture thats in my mind at that point of time ..

How to write ?

Spontaneously . There is always a better word for every thought and expression , but sometimes the joy of writing goes away in just searching for the right word. Its like a dream man or woman of your life ..they dont exist ..I like words that have a feel about them, that create imagery ..that evoke feelings . Mere adjectives dont mean a thing ..Keep it simple and short .

Who to write for ?

For myself ideally . But sometimes you need readers and therefore for all those who appreciate my thoughts and my writing ...

Do I tag ?

I dont know...maybe there are readers out there who may want to pick this up..but I dont feel like forcing it down anyone

crib session with a running nose

2007-10-31T10:20:00.002+05:30

Im back in bangalore- my biggest crib..How I hate this city

Ive have a running nose and a light bout of the flu

There are carpenters and painters all over the house and there is a lot of noise

I cant even go for a bath

I have missed my yoga class today

I still havent had breakfast

The maid came early and left early without washing my clothes or buying fresh vegetables

The fridge is filled with old vegetables and I cant cook - have to go to my inlaws place for lunch

I want to curl up and sleep with an agatha christie and I cannot

I just want to sleep..after all medicines induce you to

I wish I hadnt come back to bangalore

More lessons amongst a lot of noise

2007-10-07T20:23:00.001+05:30

Three golden rules

1.Self restraint
2.Never assume anything or assume you can take anyone for granted
3.Zero expectations

Lessons in solitude

2007-10-06T09:59:00.001+05:30

I woke up today to realize one universal truth .That you are always alone ...in your happiest and your most miserable moods, in your strongest and weakest moments, in your thoughts, in your worries, in your actions , in your decisions , in your dreams , in your desires, in your sleep, in birth, in death, in life ...and i think im beginning to understand that

Powerful emotions ..

2007-09-20T12:19:00.001+05:30

I often wonder whats the most powerful emotion - love, lust, greed, fear ...I think its insecurity .

Holiday

2007-08-29T23:37:00.001+05:30

Im off on a holiday - why do I need a holiday when I am anyways on a holiday ? Well, I need to celebrate and blow up some hard earned money .Im tensed and yet relaxed and I hope to see you all after a while ...until then ..

Locked..

2007-08-26T00:38:00.000+05:30

locked in concentric circles
I'm a frozen idea
a magnet without its force
a routeless road that leads nowhere
a corpse forced to breathe

buried by the dust
my mind caves in
layer by layer, my zest erodes-
a speck, a hollow identity
lost to the world.

tossed by the wind
i lie in ur grip
a dusty dot, a dead weight
hanging onto u
seeking the essence of life.

wrapped in this fold
i cling onto ur shoulder
a possessive grip, an unfelt emotion-
a bond that frees me
but holds u captive.

caught in this web
u shrug me off
a chaff, a burden
a thin thread of emotion
that breaks, freeing u
but i lie, a slit kite

Celebrating the ordinary

2007-08-21T23:38:00.000+05:30

This is the story of a dull day. A day which is not good or bad, but just dull. A day bereft of emotions . A day which has indifference written all over it .

A day which breaks at 7 am and ends at 11 pm . The maid walks in 8.30 am and leaves at 9.30 am. The husband leaves at 9.40 am and the door closes on me at 10.10 am .

It’s a day where nothing changes. The same roads, the same noise, the same files, the same names . It’s a day where everything is always the same .

It’s a day where work happens without you knowing it, without you doing it. A day dedicated to patterns .

It’s a day where the punctuations are there at the right places and the cycle rotates by itself. It’s a day I don’t see the clock ; for time is neither ahead or behind me. It’s a day with no memories , no thoughts ,no feelings.

To many others, it may well be an ordinary day, but to me, it’s a day that keeps me going. It’s a day that lets me feel that there are good and better days in store. It’s a day that shelters me from bad days.

It’s a regular day that brings in its wake more such dull days , like a loaf of bread with identical slices .

An ode to the simple mechanics of life – to be consistent and uniform, without even trying to be .

And that to me, makes every dull day a special day

Delusion

2007-08-18T00:02:00.000+05:30

The coin keeps spinning
It can never lie on its side
Rotating on its rim
It just cannot stop .
You tossed me up too
And I fell into this mire
Deluded, I'm caught
In a maze with no routes
I see a harsh shaft of light
Your shadow falls on me
As unreal as my pursuit
Its chasing me .
Questions punctuate me
Your reply is my escape
The chase is finally over.
I am where I am.
Maybe I was dead within you
But life has caught on with me.

Flashback - 3

2007-08-10T10:26:00.002+05:30

IN my life so far,most of the things have happenned by default and not by design- be it in career,relationships, achievements and failures . I have this unshakeable belief in fate and life and thats completely positive . I have made my decisions alright , but even that I believe is not out of design . Very often I say I take the call when to get out of something , but getting something and getting into it -life has always dropped them on my lap - both bouquets and brickbats .More of the former than latter . And in such scenarios,there is no room for decisons . They just happen .

In continuation with my flashback series , here is another excerpt
9/10/95
Life follows a pattern of its own. Sometimes I feel that I am led somewhere by the reins .But all of a sudden, there is a rut. A stop . And then stagnation .Until the moment comes when small surprising incidents land in your lap,totally out of the blue . There are these special sudden surprises that are so insignificant and yet so vital for us to believe in life . I believe that there is a future. Sometimes events just ride past me and I am lost in a maze as life gallops,tossing me in whirlpools . And then I dissolve slowly, agonizingly . Its like applying brakes suddenly on the highway as the signal appears from no where and then you dont know why and for how long you need to stop.

Tomorrow never begins from where todays ends. yesterday was totally different from today.Isnt life an adventure ? You plan,organise, decide and think you are in total control of your life . And yet you do not know who controls you ....

Flashback - 2

2007-08-08T23:27:00.002+05:30

Today has been a mixed day for me...and in two days ,my entire life will be changing soon. I have decided to move on from my high profile job for various reasons which even if I want to express, I dont have the bandwidth to do so . This job has hijacked my life over the last few years and I was living, breathing and enjoying it . And yet I made the choice . Very rationally . In a couple of days ,its all over . CTRL. ALT. DEL. I feel numb and tired . Nothing else

I found this excerpt from my diary written a decade ago and somewhere I think this echoes my rationale for this move

April 4,1996
Moods are like winds; they keep changing directions so quickly. Sometimes they are so still like the calm before the storm or they keep blowing all over the place making me feel restless. I begin my day determind to be positive and happily contended .But by the end I feel so low and lonely and strangely fear of something grips me .I cant sleep .I feel restless and tired .I dont know why I am afraid, of what I am afraid . I constantly pull myself up,derive strength from within,but it keeps sinking..

Today the sky painted with a myriad of evening colours emerged with a pattern of its own. Every second the colours and the patterns kept changing and though subtle, I could see myself reflected through the change . Before you know it the crimson and blue becomes grey and black. Gloom envelopes.

But against this natural scene were the tall dark ugly buildings with flashy lights trying to comepte with nature . As buildings keep growing trying to threaten the sky, man seems to tell nature that I am slowly reaching your status . But the more higher he goes, the more lower he feels. The sky goes further and he is finally enveloped by it. Man can never reach that high in life .

I remember words of Dick Francis . When we climb up to reach our heights in our career we think the climb is only a formality . But the goals suddenly keep going further from our clutches and we reach a certain peak in our lives . Happiness then comes not from looking up to see how much we still got to struggle, but looking down to see the beautiful view we have got for ourselves . Ambition is one thing ;contentment is another. Strangely in our abstract way, the latter is more harder to obtain .

And my ambition would be to get that .

Flashback ...

2007-08-07T09:57:00.002+05:30

Throwing junk is a metaphoric experience for me ..Its always helped me to clear the junk in my life, to purge my mind and wake up fresh ..

So while I was clearing the junk in my cupboard , I came across two small pocket books.One of them was like a note pad where I used to jot down quotes,poetry ...what ever I liked from many book I read .

The other was my diary where I had penned my thoughts 12 years ago ...I was amazed at the relevance of those thoughts even today and also at my ability to write effortlessly though I wont say its great writing.Those were the days when I dreamt I will be a writer and a journalist and fancied my writing skills . Today I write , but there are just words and not much of feelings encased in them.

Since I am incapable of feeling, expressing and writing my current thoughts , I am going to post some excerpts from my diary

The first one is a poem written in January 7-8 1996, 2 am

Like withering flowers my eyes droop
I trace the caress of a finger.
Waking up in a strange land
A silent tune haunts me
My eyes are still asleep.
The world is painted in black and white
A green patch blinds me.
I roll along the blue waves
My mind flows and ebbs;
I camouflage into many hues
I dont know what I am dreaming.
One disjointed image forms my life
And yet, Life is still a dream

I ask myself a question
Am I dreaming life ?
Thoughts drain my mind
Wordless emotions clog it.
I ask myself a question
Is my life wrapped in blankets ?
My body is in a cradle
My feelings are rocking it ..
I pace across the room and think
Yesterday didnt exist
Tomorrow never comes.
My mind begins to ebb
Life gently sleeps...

I'm just a mindless corpse
Who forgot how to think.
I ask myself a question
Am I asleep or awake ?

Moving on ..

2007-07-30T20:39:00.001+05:30

A silent scream ripped her throat . A scream that was soaked with her suppressed anger, hurt and misplaced affection . The scream ended all that loud cacophany of voices that were thundering in her mind. There were no coherant thoughts or words that could express them . The scream . It was voiceless . Her world was encased in silence .

The anger - she directed on herself . A lack of judgement after so many years . The world she realized was divided into two kinds of people - hypocrites and fools ; the manipulators and the manipulated .

The distant hum of rain grew louder in her ear drums drowning her own thoughts It had created quite a pattern on her window pane . Drops of water flowed down , washing the dust that had etched their mark on the glass . She looked outward . The cars were going in different directions . A new perspective , a cleaner look . She picked up the jigsaw puzzle and realized that it was not worth solving .

The End or The Beginning ?

2007-07-20T20:43:00.002+05:30

In life I believe everything comes with an expiry date

Choices

2007-07-18T10:58:00.002+05:30

I have selected CTRL ALT DEL

Quo Vadis ?

2007-07-11T19:07:00.001+05:30

I'm perched high and I need to fly away , go on a long journey ...Its autumn in my life and the leaves have fallen,only for spring...but do I need to fly away or wait for spring in this branch ? Where do I go from here ?

Life @my finger tips

2007-07-04T16:25:00.001+05:30

There are three keys holding on to my life just now and I need to take a decision NOW to press one of them

Enter
Esc
CTRL ALT DELETE

The twilight zones..

2007-06-18T18:01:00.001+05:30

The sky exploded into a cocktail of colours … gold, crimson, orange with a dash of pink ….. only to be engulfed by the twilight clouds, dark and menacing.

In a moment- there were only the streaks of golden and crimson set against the dark background . it looked like the setting sun was refusing to give up its abode .

I like the twilight zone …its beautiful and sad. A momentary burst of clours, a grand protest by the sun before giving up , a few golden moments snatched away by the night .

It’s a transition phase signifying change .It does not last long and yet it makes an impression …. A certain poignancy is reflected in the moment .

I can count the many twilight zones in my life …if only they were permanent and not allowed the nights to shroud them .

June 4

2007-06-04T23:11:00.001+05:30

A strange sense of peace settles in ...its strange as I cannot fathom whether this is peace . Yet I know I have made the choices that I wanted to make and I know I have made the right choice

Life throws in a few surprises sometimes ..this time it surprised me myself ...

June 4 is an important day in my life ... 7 years ago and even now ...I feel a grip on myself and I know its not me holding on to me ...

Today -

2007-06-03T22:46:00.001+05:30

I love to travel ,but hate to arrive
-Albert Einstein

Society is divided into two polished hordes
- The Bores and the Bored

Thought for the day

2007-05-31T14:49:00.002+05:30

The right to swing your arm ends where another man's nose begins

I've thrown caution to the winds...

2007-05-27T20:10:00.002+05:30

The breeze brushes past my cheek ... a soft caress that trickles down . I can feel the rush of emotions ......I cant contain myself anymore as I feel the touch of the first rain drops on my face ..The wind lifts me out of this mire as the rain washes my thoughts away... I rushed out to feel the moments... I'm lost to the world ...A song in my heart , a spring in my step...I want to feel the rain touch my mind and body and leave a new me ...

I walk in the rain and I walk down memory lane ...years younger as I tug at the rain laden leaves to shower rain on me .I let the rain purge my soul , drown my worries and wash my memories

Its raining in bangalore ... Its beautiful and I dont want to let go this moment .I love life ...I've thown caution to the winds...I want to feel every moment of my life and live it ..

State of mind today

2007-05-27T18:42:00.001+05:30

Addicted
Restless
Confused
Sleepy
Resolved

My beliefs

2007-05-24T23:55:00.004+05:30

A rolling stone gathers moss
Ask and it shall be considered
There are many fish in the sea
Love is a conflict of reflexes and reflections
The best way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it

She and I

2007-05-22T01:01:00.001+05:30

She tried to sleep .It was a futile exercise .She closed her eyes and she kept hearing her own voice

Everyone was around her …and yet she felt alone . She was loved and cared for and yet she felt lost and lonely , weak and vulnerable, confused and hurt

She felt like screaming aloud. The silence ripped through her throat , She screamed silently – again and again

I could hear her screams ..I tried reaching out to her … She has everything and yet she is on the verge of losing everything

She needs a grip. I am still trying to hold on to her

She ..

2007-05-22T00:35:00.001+05:30

The candle flickered . Like her mind. She looked inward for a moment - a captive of her own emotions and actions . …is she answerable to anyone ?

She looked at herself again – another persona emerged. Someone she could not recognize, understand or condone .

The choices were in front of her .She knew that she had to kill the other to live her life again .

Love is a conflict between reflexes and reflections . She had read that somewhere . She read it again in her life now .

She made the choice. She now needs to live with it - to live with herself again

A wake up call in life..

2007-05-22T00:25:00.001+05:30

I often wonder if I'm dreaming or I'm living . I wake up wondering which is the real thing . In my dreams, I live and my life is what others tell me that they dream about . I have the same dream everyday . Blue sky which explodes into a mosaic of colours . Its the touch that wakes me up . A touch that is so familiar, but I cant put a face to it ...My mind is a bit stormy . I can feel the churn of emotions inside. The touch is soothing, reassuring . Its from within . I need a wake up call in my life .

Me..

2007-05-22T00:24:00.002+05:30

I am a vagabond. I enjoy being one. My mind wanders even while I am not traveling. I am not unstable nor am I lost; just that I am restless,constantly seeking new things ; but my mind does not linger beyond a while on anything .I often wonder what eggs me on...not money or fame,ambition or success ...its not just to fill up the hours every day . I have given my soul ,energy, myself in pursuit of something I dont know. I've enjoyed those hours ,but I feel there is something unreal about them. Its not me out there . Today I want to stop.I want this restlessness to be contained . I realized I have lost myself in the midst of all of this. It took me just a few hours to get in touch with myself to realize what I have been missing ...Its not loneliness, or a sense of feeling alone. Its a great sense of calm, listening to the thoughts racing in my mind,meditating on the flow, talking to myself and being in touch with my core being I dont want to get lost, but I want to lose myself in this moment . A moment of togetherness , with myself

Fear...

2007-05-22T00:22:00.001+05:30

Fear is an emotion I've grown with . A fear of the unknown and the known , of someone, something that probably never exists .
I often ask myself what I'm afraid of - people, places, the unfamilar, a sound, a thought ... .
I've been afraid of ghosts since I was a kid , I'm still scared of sounds, I avoid horror movies...
I'm scared of the dark shadows, of darkness ..
I'm also afraid of greed, of power , of ambition and of praises ..Its an unnerving feeling .
I'm afraid of silence . I'm scared of being alone .
I have also had my silly fears . I'm scared of lizards, dogs, of geysers and strange bathrooms, of lifts and creaking staircases .
But amidst all these I'm scared of my failures , my thoughts ,my actions . I'm scared to face myself .

A bundle of contradictions

2007-05-22T00:15:00.001+05:30

I was told that my sun sign makes me an earthy element and my moon sign says I'm fire . I dont understand astrology and neither myself . Earth and fire do not get along they say - earth can put down fire . Am I putting myself down ? Is there a conflict in me ?

I wonder if ...

2007-05-22T00:08:00.001+05:30

I wonder if
I will wake up early tomorrow
my day will be good
there is no traffic on the roads
I'm doing the right thing
I will say the right thing
the bud will bloom
I have a good sense of humour
I am missing something
I am good
I am considered good
it will rain tomorrow
I can control my emotions
My judgement is right
I will laugh tomorrow
there are no cribs
I will get a migraine
the book will be read at all
I have friends
I'm weak
I will lose weight
I can actually start learning to trust people
My laptop will work
I will get the right people
I am pretending
I can control myself
I believe in myself
I'm taken for granted
My plans will work
It will be cold
I'm focussed
I am overreacting
I can stop SMSg
Sleep well tonight
I will stop feeling the way I am feeling
I can ever get over it
there are solutions
I'm fighting the battle alone
I'm happy

I dont know...

2007-05-22T00:07:00.002+05:30

I've deleted almost close to 385 emails ...all dated last year .Mostly junk,newsletters , message . I've retained a few - some advices, holiday packages . There was just one from a friend who had sent in his new contact details . I've spent close to a couple of hours doing this . I wondered if I was jobless or lost . Or maybe I could priortise something else. Maybe some shopping.cleaning the wardrobe which I told myself three weeks ago. Or prepare for tomorrow's work. Or just talk to a couple of friends. But its just me doing this in silence in company of some music. Its like a mission accomplished . I feel like I've purged myself. Sent out junk from my life , threw out the unwanted and ready to feel wanted I feel like I'm on the threshold of change . I want change and I dont know where and how to look for it. Should I seek it within myself or around me ?

Life rocks

2007-05-22T00:05:00.001+05:30

The last few weeks have been chaotic . I’ve hardly had the mind space to look at when and how life swept past me …I was reading a blog the other day and the author was writing about how life puts us on a toy horse and make us believe that we are moving and yet ,the horse has been static and in just one place …I have been moving allright ---- back and forth and time has moved past me . But my life has not moved. I have not evolved or grown . Just remained static and living in an illusion .This is what corporate life does to us . Gives us challenges, lures us with money and throws jargon and philosophy on us. Gives us the illusion that we are moving ahead , growing but just rocks us back and forth and puts us back in the same place. ….

memories

2007-05-20T23:37:00.002+05:30

Its pouring in Bangalore and its well past midnight . I am becoming an insomniac . The echo of the thunder keeps interrupting the silence . Or else the silence is deafening . I can just hear my fingers go tup tup on the keyboard .Memories are choking my mind today . Not letting me sleep of people I have never seen for years , of incidents and memories of my self ,my emotions ,my reactions .. I 'm tired of these memories chasing me . Words fail ...elsewhere the echo is heard .

The crab ...

2007-05-20T23:29:00.003+05:30

The night lay bare and silent. Potent in all its nakedness. It was nature’s own canvas spread over the once vacant blue sky. A sheath of silver, dark and yet bright. With its own tinge of glamour, like the city it enclosed. Sometimes, the sky was like an open ramp, each dim model , twinkling in her raw beauty , like a star. It was the night sky that beckoned her.
She smiled, as the moon fought its way out from the clouds. To her , it was a personal victory. Clouds of memories had choked her, as she struggled to shrug them off. The moon stood alone in its brilliance .The pursuit was in vain. She will not let her past catch up with her .
The voices kept recurring. They were ghosts haunting her from the recesses of her mind. Piercing the gentle breeze, there were like car horns shrieking through the silent road. It was the sea that had toned her down. Restless waves bathed her mind –life cannot always flow, there has to be an ebb sometime. She leaned on the rocks. The water tickled her feet . She recreated the scene in her mind.
She had almost hurt herself that night . He had been right behind her. And yet, he had walked ahead as she called out to him. “Surely, you can manage on your own, “ he had said . She had by then recovered from her fall. She smiled, looking at the thin outline of the moon . It was that look… She thought it was forever . The moon slipped again. This time, she knew it will take a long time to emerge from the clouds. He will never be with her again.
The veil soon lifted itself. The waves were hitting an all time high . Swept with passion, the foam caressed the surface, lashing at the waves. Raw and rhythmic . To her, it was a mere ritual. She likened herself to the rocks, locked in an embrace that had freed itself a long time ago. She watched as love retreated; yet another relationship cracked on the rocks . Strangers replaced friends who had become strangers and the cycle repeated itself. She thought for a moment .
The crab had climbed onto the rock. They had heard the splash together. The crab had lost its hold. They had forgotten about it. He had brought her to see the crab. The crab, was there bathed in moonlight . Relationships, she realized are often like that – the essence forgotten , the joy of being there, together gone . It was all in the mind, he had said. They met, very often, in groups. But the crab swam, forgotten.

Grammar of life

2007-05-20T23:27:00.001+05:30

Life is a series of semicolons.If you wish to put a fullstop, just delete the comma and if you wish it to continue, simply erase the fullstop. Punctuate your life the way you want it. The grammar of life lies with you

She....

2007-05-20T23:26:00.001+05:30

She had no idea where to begin. She was not even sure if she wanted to begin from somewhere. Aspirations flitted in and out of her mind ; nothing strong enough to tempt her, drive her , to make her chase a fleeting shadow. Her life, they said was complete, in every aspect. But she knew otherwise. And yet she did not know where to begin. The thought that was eluding her , refusing to pin her down She paused for a moment and looked inward . The sounds were familiar. Faint and far away , uneven yet continuous. It did not matter. They did not intrude on her thoughts , nor did they bring any memories . It was a reminder - of the cyclic, the mundane , the routine and the mechanical .These sounds do not bother her anymore . Silence does, sometimes , but not these sounds . Three decades of her life swept past her and now it was all eternity to gaze upon. There were those punctuations, some at the right time and some , not always at the right time. The bright mornings, the chirpy birds, the laughter and the gossip came and went like the noisy vehicles on the street below. Faint and far away , uneven and yet continuous . I like that refrain, she thought with a smile. The fingers thrashed the keyboard , a different sound. An unwelcome visitor, a calling that you are not yet ready for . Inevitable , she told herself as she shut her mind and left . The fingers thrashed the keyboard , a different sound . I stopped for a moment and thought about her . So different and yet so similar. Like the sounds . Traveling through my thoughts, I discovered her. I do not know when she slipped into my mind and now, I am searching for that elusive thought that is refusing to pin me down.

Me and my self

2007-05-20T23:20:00.001+05:30

I have a split personality. Me and my persona. And she is not me She comes into the scene only when I try to express myself – in writing or in conversation. My thoughts are no longer mine ; she chooses the words carefully, She interrupts my thoughts often , sometimes she makes me think the way she does . A very thin line of confusion divides us. Sometimes, I think I have some clarity as far as our roles are concerned . Maybe its me who does all the thinking and she, the expressing. She is probably a better packager of words, emotions and gestures . She knows what to say, when and how. She does her job well at my workplace .At home, I try to shove her away and my communication suffers , more than often. I am uncomfortable having her about . I also get defensive with her around. I know when she dictates or rather suppresses my views. She says they sound better her way and it does not matter to her if I think like her. That is the dilemma , for its not me who is talking or writing my lines . The expression is wrong , according to my thoughts .But she is right , politically, I mean. I’m not sure I like her. I’m also not sure if I am like her. But she is here with me and has been editing this piece of writing all the way long. I hope I got my communication across