Live on the edge - or you take up too much space

Same old same old!

2009-11-30T18:20:00.002+05:30

Ex-colleague/ friend/ client ignores all my emails - payment is due that's why? Don't know. It's horrible.

Someone I know takes me out (considering I paid more, maybe it was me taking him out), cosies up, shares a few intimate text messages, and then it's silence. What gives!

Someone I've started writing to and who actually responds and writes well seemed exciting to know. It had a few possibilities. Then came along Junior (his son). And the 'few' dwindles to a 'uh oh' possibility. Why me?

Client sends back document with loads of changes - if they've written the content then why do they need me? - and am not sure what exactly do I edit and how exactly do I rewrite?

Good day eh?

Mixed Bag!

2009-11-26T23:58:00.002+05:30

Just pretty much alone you know!
Yup, they're there, where they should be. Friends, family, ex-colleagues, relatives and so on.
When I think of all the posts that I've written and how many of them talk of the pain, grief, loneliness, etc., that I go through, it stops me from penning any more on the same.

But at the same time, today is one of those rare days in a long time I must admit, that I've felt really really really low and alone. My mind was searching for all those I could speak with and came up with a blank.

So anyway, wine, chicken, powerful, attractive, successful women friends sharing their view of how they're leading life and so it was a good evening spent.

And you return home driving through a mist of tears wondering, 'what did I do wrong'? and then quickly dabbing the tears with a tissue as you can't have your mother wondering and enquiring.
Tiring all this can be, but c'est la vie!

So am on my own now! No job, not too many friends who care, not too much family who care, and not sure if I can make a living on my own writing about stuff that I don't really care about.
But the 'on my own path' is something that I chose. The rest happened to me.

Ok, am done.

The world of make believe!

2009-08-09T22:47:00.002+05:30

I love movies. I love the way my mind is switched off from reality for the 2 or 3 hours that I watch a movie. I saw one today. It was about love. About how irrespective of the era, generation or time or circumstances, love does make the world go round :).

I don't know if I'm seeking it. Maybe I am. Somewhere deep down am afraid to admit that I won't ever find it.
So it's about a begrudging acceptance of that and while it's not so bad and the end of the world et al, it still feels like I am looking at a chasm of loneliness. Is that so bad? Not if I can fill up that chasm with all the good things life is made up of - friends, hobbies, music, food, books - I've deliberately left out sex. Cause right now in my life it's left out lol!

Oh how wish I could make my world to be a world of make believe instead of wincing at the thought of going and doing mundane things at work. Instead of wondering when the mundane will become enriching and fun and wondering how long I'll have to give myself self-help lessons in positive thinking!

Well, can't have the reel thing, but the real thing they say is always better. Dare I say it?

Bank on yourself!

2009-07-27T00:01:00.002+05:30

The article by the same name in today's edition of the Sunday Times struck me. It was one of those 'Oh my God' moments when you go, 'yes' and no it's not the orgasmic 'yes'. I knew what was troubling me, I knew why and it felt wonderful to acknowledge it. It was as if a burden had been lifted.

There's chaos in my life. I've been brushing it under the carpet so often in the past and not succumbing to the emotions, that I have (maybe had?) become cold, hard nosed and often an alien even to myself I think.

But this too shall pass. For I am making attempts at re-discovering who I am. It's exciting and exhilarating for most. For me, it hurts, it's painful and I'm a wee bit frightened. What if I don't like who I am and I find out I actually am the hard nosed bitch that people see me as? Brrrrr!

But I have to bank on myself. No one else. I will keep the faith. It's moved mountains, I've heard. What's a poor lil me in comparison!

Jesus! It's been very long!

2009-07-19T23:07:00.002+05:30

Jauary! That was when I last posted a post. Phew! What have I been doing honestly!

I've been writing. Yes! But only in my head.

I've lost so much in these past few months. So so so much.

And I'm trying to regain it all. How? Don't know. Maybe by doing things that I've loved doing and stopped.

Maybe this is a start. Maybe.

I hope it is. I sure hope to God it is!

What a beginning...

2009-01-14T00:00:00.002+05:30

...to the year. It's 13 days old, no, 14 days old to the minute and it's been hectic already.

Mind? Abuzzzzzz!
Body? Abuzzzzz!
Spirit? Abuzzzzz!
So much to do. So much to say. So much to write. So much to think.
Where do I begin?

At the beginning. But what is the beginning? Now that's another story.
(But I'm back and thanks pruv for thinking of me, and thanks GOTJ for remembering me).
So are you abuzzzzz? Buzz me!

Aloha 2009!

2009-01-04T22:58:00.004+05:30

No lists.
No resolutions.
No 'rewind 2008'.
No 'hits and misses'.
No 'so what did you do for New Year's eve?'
No 'it's recession time, so just a house party'!
No '100 or 50 or 10 must do, must have, must see, things'.
No 'How to live 2009 happily ever after'.

Just joy at the thought that I may, just may have got over my block. I haven't written in 3 months! That's a bit much for someone like me. Even for lethargic, slob, procrastinator, hyperventilating, 'won't write ever because am so hurt, or depressed or rejected' me, is a bit much.

Don't know why I haven't written. But am not going to do a case study analysis on the why. Lots of reasons, but hey, I didn't write. I should have, could have, would have, wanted to and so on and so forth. I didn't. I am writing now.

Right! Hope, love, laughter, health, joy, sorrow, pain, incredulous and incredible happiness, grief, beauty, wonder, innovation, splendour, friends, relatives, family, disease, frustration, anger, fury, patience, death, peace are all anchored after a year of travelling around the globe.

Here's to you, you and you and of course to me and aloha 2009! With dollops of what we'd like to weed out of that 'list' above and what we'd like quadrupled.

So, er.. what's your resolution? :)

Commitment = Passion?

2008-09-01T11:25:00.002+05:30

Every time I feel miserable about what I'm doing at work, how people react, respond, do, not do, I start wondering. Is it always me vs. 'them', this invisible 'them' consisting of everyone in Galaxy Work or is it just my attitude and mind set?
I come across many articles by various people both established and even those who are not so well known. The common refrain in all their sound bytes is 'have passion, love what you do, and success will follow'.
I am known as a passionate person. Maybe it's the way I speak, maybe it's just my work that speaks, or that I'm a sucker for compliments. Let's keep that aside for a bit. The point is I have passion for life I think. Have I found the one thing above all else that I love to do in terms of a career, profession, work? Maybe not. But I am committed. When I do something I like to do it well. When I am given responsibility to see through something, I do it. Somehow the 'C' word assumes tremendous importance in my lexicon. (I wonder maybe that's why I have failed relationships. Men are commitment phobic when it comes to me). In fact the anger stems as a result of the dependencies and I more often than not find that I'm doing more than my scope of work. Is it unique to me? Perhaps not. Am sure a whole universe of such individuals exist and have probably faced it sometime or the other? Maybe that's why we have 'shirkers', 'doers', 'thinkers', 'pass the buck'ers, 'take the credit'ers and so on.

Is commitment therefor in my DNA or something that I deeply believe in? I haven't really analysed it and I don't think my counselling sessions have come up with an answer as to why 'commitment' is soooo.....important!Be that as it may, I think, commitment is present only if passion walks hand in hand with it. You may be committed to doing something but you may not do it well, or you may do it half-heartedly or do it like it's a millstone around your neck. But if you are bereft of passion, then it's like being sterile.

So is passion alone enough to take you through life?
Or is commitment alone enough? Or are both necessary?
And are they mutually exclusive or mutually inclusive?
Can passion frighten away people due to the intensity one has for it?
Is success a given if you have passion?
Where does commitment fit in?
Or is this all humbug and all we should do and understand is 'hard work'?
Would 'hard work', 'passion' and 'commitment' comprise the Holy Trinity of Success?

I don't know. I know I'm committed and I'm passionate and I work hard. But...

Happyness Quotient!

2008-08-26T11:20:00.001+05:30

MENSA, IQ, EQ - we all have them, and there are measures for all of these. Each one of them tells you against some pre-determined, pre-defined parameters, how intelligent you are, how caring or sensitive you are or how emotional you are, and so on.
As per some recent studies conducted somewhere (who conducts these studies anyway and who funds these studies and what happens after they study all these traits of human beings and what are social scientists doing about it), Indian youth are supposed to be the happiest. Really? Wow! Really now!

Maybe they should do the same for the middle aged population and find out the Happyness Quotient (yes, Happyness is Happiness but thanks to Will Smith I quite like this spelling). I'm curious. Curious because I want to know if my hunch is correct, about the state of mind of urban, educated, in their 30s, youth of India. And if they're not unhappy and prove my hunches wrong, then I definitely want to know how they manage to retain their HQ and why. It'd be an interesting study. And the study should be conducted with some 200,000 youth across Tier I and Tier II cities. Maybe that would be a good indicator, though 0.02% of the population may not really be a good sample size, but then it should do I guess.

I really do want a new line of thinking, a new attitude and a new perspective. I think I shall go shopping and see if a 'sale' is on somewhere. Buy 1 and get 2 free would be a good investment.

Or better still, it'd be great if happyness was bottled and on sale. Now wouldn't that be something!

What if the stabiliser destabilises?

2008-08-10T19:19:00.003+05:30

So I was on the pot and reading. Am sure a whole host of us do. It helps pass the time when you're waiting to download (thank you technology for giving us what has now become such a generic term).

And the mind then wandered to a conversation I had had about the voltage fluctuation and of the erratic power supply situation in the Silicon City. The conversation was simple and not intellectual - "You know I was sitting with my neighbours and their TV just went phut! Poor souls, they'd just bought a 42" Flat TV, so beautiful, but there was a flash (not in the pan) and a blank screen. They'd just bought it a month and a half ago. They had to pay Rs.3,000/- more for some part and it's ok now. Retired souls and the TV costs more than Rs.40,000/-."

"Yes, my cousin you know was so startled, her mixer grinder spewed some sparks, it chortled and it threw its lid in the air with a flourish like a magician and then, nothing."

So the conversation then veered to other equally interesting but mundane day-to-day stuff. So while sitting on the pot, I thought I just had to get a 'stabiliser' for my new TV and Home Theatre system. I'd be heartbroken and probably die if something were to happen to them thanks to the power supply. Then my mind wandered to the fact that a few weeks ago, our stabiliser (is it with an 's' or a 'z'? Hmm..depends if I want to be a Yankee or a true blue Brit), which we'd got for our refrigerator had a problem. So we called an electrician and after many weeks of 'bas aaj le aaonga' (will get it today, just now), he finally returned it glumly and said it couldn't be fixed. So ma went and bought another one. The stabiliser was about 5 years old and had served us well and had seen many an electric roller coaster ride. Guess it's time had come.

But that's an electrical appliance and most things have a shelf life. Including humans. But what would I do if the 'stabiliser' in my life, my mother, had some problem and couldn't serve and function as one takes for granted? I know my home, my work, my finances, everything would be in a state of utter disruption and turmoil. Unlike the above electrical appliance, I wouldn't be able to go and buy another one and replace ma. Ma's are all irreplaceable. So also the human 'stabilisers' in our lives. Be it our husbands, our wives, brothers, uncles, siblings, children, whatever you consider the factor/s for lending a certain sense of stability in your life.

My car's taken for granted. My work's almost taken for granted, though in this day and age of 'shut shop' and increasing M & As, that cannot be taken for granted, salaries, life style, a certain service, etc. Basically things have to 'just be' for us to think that life is stable and the 'stabilisers' are functioning. We take everything so much for granted including relationships. And if someday, any day, any one of those predefined stabilisers stop functioning or are in some turmoil, we sit and ponder. We regret, we wish, we remember, we resolve. And if things are righted and we're back on the stable path, then life's once again ok, stable, stabilisers in place and we're off on our merry way, ho hum.

Our need to latch on to something that gives our lives stability seems to be such an innate need. Ironically everything in life is really so unstable. Even our very own earth is bubbling under and then we have volcanic eruptions. We even have coined our feel-good phrases - 'Change is good,' 'Change is the only constant', and so on.

But I know that life would not be the same for me if my stabiliser had a malfunction. Stabilisers can have a bad day too you know. Maybe it's time for us to redefine, relook and rework our relationships with our stabilisers. However much life is transient and ever changing I need my stabiliser/s. They keep me sane.

The Morning After!

2008-07-31T10:46:00.002+05:30

I had a good cry last night. I've had many such at various points in time. Approaching middle age, I'm constantly plagued by existential questions. Some would call it mid-life crisis. But I've been haunted by such questions ever since I can remember. What makes me happy? Why I don't want to do what I currently do. What should I do? Where should I run away and make my home? Will I be an old haggard idiosyncratic spinster and be full of bitterness and sarcasm as I didn't think life had handed out to me a fair deal? Would I be able to bear being alone after my mother's death? How long will I be able to handle the traffic before going completely insane? Am I overreacting to everything? Will I ever be at the top of my career? What is 'top of my career'? Is there a God above? What is the meaning of self-belief? How can I be more positive and be a better person? Am I someone who has noble intentions but can never sustain it? So am I a starter but not a completer? Does that make me a non-starter? What do I do with my resolutions year after year after year? What do I really want? What does happiness mean? Is money really that unimportant? When Eckhart Tolle says, 'pain body' and the 'mind is not really you', what does he mean? Am I a genuinely nice person? If so, why do I cause so much hurt and pain to the one person I love the most - my mother? Am I supposed to forgive myself even after causing hurt in a show of unconditional love for self? Does that work? How? Why? Why do we really bare our fangs to those who actually care and are concerned for us? We say 'rat race' but is it so easy to give it all up and not be part of this maddening 'race'? Will I ever finish the race? Is it good or bad or ugly to be emotional? Do I like financial independence? Why do I lack the belief to be an entrepreneur? Is it fear? Fear of what - failure, sustenance, completeness, security, financial security and prestige? Any one or some or all of the above? If so how do some make a go of it and are successful? I want to write a book and have a couple of ideas - will I ever write one? I ask all these questions, but do I have to have the answers? If not, who has and will I be satisfied with the answers? Will I be able to adopt a baby? Is it essential for a man to vindicate my existence as a woman? Do we all get into this kind of rut and ask ourselves similar questions? By asking these does it make me a lesser person? Will I be considered a self-centred, self-absorbed and vainglorious person? And if so, by whom? And will it matter? Should it matter? If not, why? How do people survive the onslaught of modern day stresses? Is going to a spa and spending 3k on a massage the answer to momentary nirvana? What is nirvana? Why are we such a self-centred, soul-less and corrupt nation? Is there hope for us? Is there hope for me?

It's the morning after and I did have a good cry. A long hard look at myself. Most things I couldn't fathom or brushed under the carpet as I didn't have time to analyse, but there were some things I didn't even like. Not really sure what to do. It's a burden of knowing and not knowing.

The morning after - the earth hasn't moved.

Right now I could barf!

2008-07-10T15:15:00.001+05:30

Things at office really bad! I hate what's happening. Will write more later.
All I know is I hate it.

That damned thing called procrastination!

2008-07-09T21:28:00.002+05:30

We all pontificate! Is it to do with 'think before you leap'?

I procrastinate about:
a) Diets
b) Exercise
c) Shoring up my resume
d) Keeping in touch with great / good friends
e) Reading
f) Converting all my tapes into CDs/ DVDs
g) My blog and how to make it this really 'cool' 'hip' one - with all the latest gizmos on it be it the trackbacks, Digg It or whathaveyou
h) What else?
i) What else hmm?
j) Hmmm hmmm?
k) Clearing my closet
l) My investments
m) Movie watching
n) Jogging
o) Mmm....
I have been procrastinating for so long on so many things that I forget what I was procrastinating about.
Mmm...so, let me think...er....swallow, mmm...ummm....oh?....nah...awww....n....wha.....mmmm....

Dunno. What do you procrastinate about?

When frustration gives way to hope...

2008-07-07T14:11:00.002+05:30

...Remember I recently wrote about 2 companies I'd written to? One cold call and one I'd applied for? Well, I wrote to them, they wrote back, they gave me an assignment, I completed it within the deadline, they said they'd get back on Friday last, they didn't, felt miserable, waited till this morning, wrote to them, saying 'thank you I understand', and...

....they wrote back. The MD wants to interview me. They think my skills set are good and match what they need. If this come through, it could be good for me.

It'd be bloody Good for me (or so I think from where I'm sitting!). Yippeeee!

Yippeeeee dobbeee dooo!

3rd time lucky, they say!

2008-07-07T11:35:00.002+05:30

Rafael Nadal won his first Wimbledon crown. Roger Federer stood forlornly as the dethroned but graceful champion and king, and probably the best grass player in the Open era or any era, ever.

Lessons learnt from both players:
a) Never never never ever give up. Even when you think and the world thinks you're down and out.
b) Focus focus focus. The goal should be unwavering.
c) You may be genius, but you too are fallible. (Check Roger Federer's unforced errors).
d) Age may be in the mind, but it's in the body too. Speed, agility, tact and some skill can make up for solid experience.
e) But the hunger to do more and excel more is not about age, but ageless. It's an attitude and a part of your DNA.
f) Winning is everything (whether you like it or not - nobody will remember Federer's 5 titles, his wonderful strokes, his will to come back from 2 sets down. Only 'Rafa' 'Rafa' 'Rafa' will be remembered for the victory).
g) Winning may be everything, but lack of skill, attitude, focus and determination won't get you far beyond a few goal posts.
h) Without consistency you are nothing.
i) Never give all of yourself to every fight. Do save the best for last. Ironically you may not get to the last if you don't give your best. So work out the math yourself.
j) Money is definitely not everything. It's just an escalator to a better quality of life. Now what that quality means to different people is different so let's leave it there.
k) Being calm, unruffled and determined under any onslaught and pressure, is the mark of a leader. It's also called grace under pressure.
l) But a show of emotions by leaders and world beaters is also ok. It shows you are human.
m) Never tread on people's bunions when they're limping. (Notice Federer's 'You're ok?' when Rafa grazed his knee and took a tumble. He didn't have to enquire).
n) Respect your greatest opponent and competitor, never underestimate his ability.
o) Be willing to give it your all again and again. Yes, never feel defeated. Just an opportunity lost.

No more. I just know that I wanted FedEx to win his 6th. I feel miserable.

But tomorrow is another day!

Loneliness is...

2008-07-06T00:25:00.002+05:30

... coming home after work and not having anyone to share the day with - how you wanted to show a middle finger to your boss or the anal colleague or the aimless, pointless meetings or how bosses really don't deserve to where they are and the fat salaries they draw and the lifestyles they lead.

...coming home after dinner with friends and sitting down to watch some mindless TV.

...going to dinner with friends who're couples and can afford everything (or so it seems).

...shopping alone (which is at most times extremely enjoyable) and watching the girls/ women/ ladies strut their stuff in front of their guys/ boys/ men/ other women friends and getting nods of approval or otherwise.

...eating ice cream alone and wondering 'will I ever have a child who throws a tantrum for one?'

...wanting to talk to the guy who just told you 'get the hell out of my life'.

...checking out lingerie and shoes and wanting to look beautiful but with no one to tell you so.

...reading an aching love story and aching inside.

...watching 'Friends' or 'Sex & the City' and wanting a pack of friends like that.

...wanting someone to make all the important decisions.

...having someone who cared for you deeply tell you that 'you're sarcastic, you could improve in the cooking department,but hey, I love you'.

...seeing the pregnant skies and wanting to do a mad dance eating corn on the cob and of course 'singing in the rain' with teeth chattering.

...not having anyone to diss about the world at large.

...not having anyone to discuss ideas and thoughts about the world at large.

...not having anyone dedicate songs to you on radio.

...not having anyone throw surprise parties.

...not not not ...

...terribly lonely.

How sad!

When hope gives way to frustration and...

2008-06-27T10:49:00.002+05:30

... and deep dejection. And a feeling of rejection.
Hope is needed for buoyancy. When what you hope for or are secretly expecting to happen doesn't, you feel you could sink.

2 weeks ago a company I wrote to (Cold call as some would call it), that seemed interesting, actually got back and someone called up from the Middle East and then committed to sending out some brief / assignment before taking it forward. It's not happened.

2 weeks ago around the same time, a company I had applied for, called and asked to meet up for an interview. As I was travelling, that request couldn't be accommodated, and they said they'd call back this week. That hasn't happened either.

I wish organizations were more professional in the way they communicated or followed up. If they didn't want to have anything furhter to do with me, they could have simply said so. It's not difficult to say, 'Your profile is not what we're looking at'. It may be difficult to hear as you're riding on hope at that time - after all the company did decide to look you up after perusing through your CV - but then it's direct and you come to terms with it.

So yes, am feeling dejected and rejected.
But they say as long as there's life, there's hope (or is it vice versa?).

Those 2 irritating ads - do copywriters get paid for this?

2008-06-22T21:24:00.002+05:30

As you would've gauged from my earlier posts, I drive to work. Of course since my blog is obscure, I will pardon you for not knowing that bit of trivia. To continue, I drive to work which is quite afar and it takes me about 2hrs 45 mins approx. everyday to and fro from work. That gives me a lot of 'me time' 'think time' and a lot of 'radio time'. Yes, I do listen to a lot of my own CDs, but like many other things in modern life, some things are mindlessly and thoughtless taken for granted. The radio comes on as soon as I switch on my ignition. Do I want to change from the non-stop yadda yadda yadda that goes on in the form of entertaining Radio Jockeys? Yes, I do. Do I do anything about it? No I don't. Do I have the right to crib therefore? No, but I do it anyway.

Well, so I am subject to a lot of radio commercials as you would've guessed! And there are a plethora of them, however for some reason these 2 ads have been playing ad nauseam for I think almost 2 weeks now. And it irritates the hell out of me. Why? Well listen to this:

Irritating Commercial One:
FVO (Female Voice Over): "First rains!"
"First baby sounds!"
"Love reminders!"
"First anniversary!"
"Now smile without worrying about the lines! With Pond's Age-defying cream!"
Well this may not be verbatim what this inane ad says, but I think I've got it right about 98%. So what gets my goat about this ad? Oh well, the very fact that some silly copy writer has thought that life and its spontaneous joyful moments are carefully orchestrated in our display of emotions. So you see, you wouldn't smile if your baby gurgled 'ma' for the very first time, or if the love of your life sent you sweet nothing SMSes. Why? Because for God's sakes you'd have to check in the mirror if those blasted laughter lines were showing. Preen, preen! My God those blessed lines! My baby, my love, my friends, my life would not be the same if people actually saw character on my face including the laugh lines and the crow's feet. We're all meant to be picture perfect, well groomed, with the last bit of eye shadow and mascara in place.

Yes, being women, I do understand the pressure of looking good, the vanity associated with my sex, but for crying out loud, don't tell me when to laugh, and how I could look better with my laugh if I used some silly cream. Soon we'll have cosmetic dental surgeons talking about great looking teeth when we laugh, and so on. We have enough in our modern, urban lives which are no laughing matter. Now do we need some labels and creams too to ensure we laugh out loud or smile on cue? We're truly in the age of the sitcoms aren't we? Everything is canned, including laughter!

Irritating Commercial Two:
FVO: "Slow down! Don't go fast!"
"Don't overtake from the left!"
"Where's your indicator?"
MVO: "Oh God! What indicator? Everyone drives like this! Why did I ever send you to the Maruti Driving School?"
Some mumbo-jumbo about how with simulators and interactive driving sessions, you come out of this driving institute as an expert driver. Armed with confidence.
FVO:"Now let me drive!"

Now here's the thing. In a city like Bangalore (and some of the other Tier 1 cities in India), you have to drive like a maniac to survive. If you were to indeed drive like the way this ad professes to teach you, you'd be a fool and end up in an asylum. Yes, you have to drive without indicators, overtake from any where, jump signals and more. So what the MVO exclaims is actually true. Everyone does drive like this and he shouldn't have sent her to the driving school. Because the lady will become a wreck eventually if she puts all the 'good' teachings into practice. So that's a stupid ad and an irritating one. For if you have to survive on Indian roads, you make the rules, break 'em and generally be the king or pauper of the roads. If like me, you stop at signals, you'll only be honked at incessantly, window tapped and abused for following regulations. If like me, you deign to raise a hand questioningly at someone who's driving on your side of the road, but coming in the opposite direction, you would be made to feel a heel and a nincompoop and an imbecile. Yes, that ad is a stupid ad.

Maybe the copywriters should get a taste of the real situation and write real ads. We don't believe in these anymore marketers. You need to do better. Much better.

So while I laugh out spontaneoulsy at some silly oaf on the roads trying to squeeze out from in between two gargantuan trucks, the copywriters of the world need to take a drive down 'reality', cause reality does bite!

Evening Thoughts!

2008-06-11T22:25:00.004+05:30

Thank God, I managed my anger on the road today! Or would have blemished the record for the week.
It's a lovely evening breeze! Should I continue to walk in the evening or jog in the morning?
Morning?? Yaaawwn! It's soooo difficult to get up!
But then I can't jog in the evening. Yup, am shy! I'd look and feel like a klutz, going thud thud thud with my heavy steps and heavy body. Not graceful like the Bay Watch babes!
I can work from home tomorrow, yes! Must check on the I'net connection on the laptop.

2 hrs later...
Friggin hell! The damned I'net connection with the IP address, Default DNS Server, Subnet bullshit Gateway, etc., is just not happening. But it works on my PC!
Ok let's check the Outlook access from my PC! What!!! Error: Access Denied.
Call the IT helpdesk! After a conversation for 25 minutes, there's no solution.
I have to go to work tomorrow and can't work from home!

There's no bloody justice in this world I tell you! NO JUSTICE!!!!
I hate the unfairness of it all.
Why???

Afternoon Thoughts!

2008-06-11T22:20:00.002+05:30

Hoo boy! There's a bee in someone's bonnet!
For a month the newsletter's been up and 'he' (someone, who cares) sees the item now?!
Uh oh, what a tizzy everyone's got into!
Hmm! Repercussions, repercussions! Nowadays everything is so delicate!
Hope it blows over, please Lord, let it blow over!
I wanna go home! Will work from home tomorrow! Got to get those IT blokes to get me a local log in for my local IP address.
Yeah! Time to go home.
Yes!!

Morning thoughts!

2008-06-11T16:31:00.002+05:30

Do I have to get up?
Why do I need to go to work today?
I'm sure I could work from home.
What do I need to do?
Will get back and exercise.

While driving....
You're doing good so far. Not bad. (Arse-hole, grit teeth, why my car?)
Not bad...made it on time. Just an hr and 15 mins. Doing good.

And the rest of the day continues...

Angry, just very angry!

2008-06-10T21:38:00.003+05:30

Today is a Monday for me.
Took an extra day off from work and chilled out at home yesterday.
My road rage has been under a tight leash these past few days. Have maintained a log and so far it seems am getting a 4 out of 5 on that front.

Angry because....I
Go to office and see an email from a team member.
Something's uploaded but something else's not.
I call to find out why not.
The person (let's call him S) has not read the email which explicitly mentions the file, the server path and the names of the folders, an email sent on Friday.
"I didn't know what xxx was".
So call and find out right?
But no, we shall wait, because it is our lot in life to wait.
Maybe it comes from being Indian.
We wait for the heavens to open up and give us a good crop.
We wait for the Sensex to rise and the fuel prices to come down.
We wait for grooms and brides to materialise and we wait for miracles to happen and transform this blessed country.
Yes, perhaps to wait comes from being Indian.
It's in our DNA and in our race.
"Allah ki marzi" or "Jaise bhagwan ki icchha" - who hasn't heard of these refrains (If He wishes so). It may be called being fatalistic, tolerant or just plain...Indian.

And when the young lad on the other side of the telephone cord tries explaining, I think my really tight leash slips. And that slippage is enough for my anger and frustration to get a leg in the door. I don't raise my voice, but I do try and make the young man understand that 'God does lie in the details' (for God's sakes, doesn't he bloody realize?? he's a graphic designer for crying out loud, where do these guys come from?), and it gets ugly when he says he won't accept that he's at fault or some such.
In my typical fashion, I say 'thank you' and hang up.
What gets my goat is that I've pointed out mistakes and errors on his part umpteen times, sometimes angrily, most times matter-of-factly, and sometimes like a mother hen.
Nothing's working.

I pick up the phone and am ready to call it quits at work.
I've been meaning to do that for many months now and this is my last straw (or so it seems). Thankfully boss is unavailable.
Colleague calls up on something else that I'm angry about.
We talk, rather she talks, I listen.
She says some nice things, and I get emotional.
I'm very highly strung and overwrought.
I need a break and I don't mean a holiday.
I need a break.

Angry because....II
I absolutely hate it when my ideas get executed by somebody else.
It happens far too often and has been happening for a while now. I hate it.
I've been meaning to throw a 'surprise' party for my ma since March.
For having gone through the turmoil and withstood my fetish for perfection and the attendant problems with the masons and carpenters and the interiors and what not while my apartment was getting done. We lived through it like prisoners of war.
She's something else, my mother.
I wonder how women become the mothers they do, starting out as the women they are.
Well, the cloak of motherhood is probably the most fascinating that can envelope one in its mystical and magical role-play.
So anyway, besides the puja, etc., that we did and had a small party at home for ma's friends, I didn't have the surprise party.
I did discuss it with my aunts and my cousin who was here at that time, heavily pregnant.
This very same cousin calls up just under an hour ago.
Speaking to my mom. Asking her about a 'surprise' party for her mom (my aunt and my ma's younger sister).
I gathered the gist of the conversation while pretending to take some print-outs.
Fuming.
Not because my ideas are original.
Not because others can't have the same.
But because someone else is getting there first.
And it was mine to begin with.

Angry because....III
Ticker tape on a news channel.
National Award winners - best film, best actress and so on.
France get beaten by Netherlands at the UEFA 3-0 (whoa!!) (Damn! I should've stayed awake to catch that).
Bail plea denied to Talwar (the father) in that heart wrenching yet horrifying murder case of a young 14 year old (the daughter).
And then the piece de resistance - 2 police officers dismissed after having raped.
Dismissed. Yes, dismissed. Just like that. It's almost like a stern matronly principal dismissing 2 errant school boys for writing some naughty things on the blackboard. How we trivialise issues! This is not about a blackboard.
It's about rape.
It's not consensual sex. It's rape. Against a woman's will. (For God's sakes, do men understand this?).
I remember having this conversation and argument with another blogger friend (and now not in touch for various reasons) about the definition of rape and how I was getting so flustered about it.
I think men have to be women and get raped to understand what it means to have sex without one's consent, forcefully.
Dismissed, yes.
2 f#$%^&g police constables are free to roam the streets and commit the same venal act again, if their lascivious eyes pick out another helpless victim.
Remeber Kaa from The Jungle Book and his refrain to Mowgli, 'Trust in me' all the while wrapping himself around the little boy child?
Perhaps bad analogy, but for some reason laughable though it may be, these 2 arse-holes reminded me of that venomous creature. (Please note that in that fantastic animation classic, each character is just that...a classic and lovable, and has no bearing at all on the subject being discussed).

So yes, am angry and hurt. Very angry.

Triggers!

2008-06-09T14:44:00.004+05:30

Have been reading the papers a bit more diligently nowadays. Does it mean I have more time to dawdle over reams of newsprint? Hmmm...maybe. I still have my job thankfully, just that Sunday and today has been more relaxing. I've taken some time off work today and I'm listening to some Y! Radio and blogging and reading and watching TV, and I feel good about it.

Just saw 'The Queen'. I loved the film. Watch Helen Mirren. When you do, you will understand what great acting is all about. She essayed the role of 'uneasy lies the head that wears the crown' to almost perfection, right down to the way the Queen walks. It's a very good film. It shows us a facet of the British monarchy that one rarely gives much thought to. It's about Princess Di's death, the time when Tony Blair was elected PM (great win for Labour) and how the entire media it seemed ganged up on the geriatric royalty and made her do things she wouldn't have normally. Especially for a renegade (if one can use the word for Princess Diana) daughter-in-law who was no longer HRH (I presume it means Her Royal Highness). The British Royals are probably a very functional yet dysfunctional family. They've been schooled to hide their emotions, they know the protocol, but as a family they're dysfunctional (and that thankfully restores the faith in them being human after all and not God's own charmed beings put out on Earth to mind us silly fogeys).

Anyway, there is something to be said about the 'stiff upper lip' accent. It's clear, precise and they still own the language. Check the dialogues, the vocabulary, the screenplay. Check it on this other very well made film called, 'Notes on a Scandal' based on a book by Zoe Heller (I think)with two powerhouse performances by Cate Blanchett who's absolutely ravishing in the film (if I was lesbian I'd find her delicious) and Dame Judi Dench. What an actress by Jove! How much they convey by their look, with their face, my God! She's amazing. The same 'M' from the 007 movies. She's a tough act to follow truly. At 73 going strong. Yes, 40 is now the new 20 surely and so I have nothing to worry about. :).

Where did the papers go? Oh yes, read this very nice article on oil prices and OPEC by Mr.Swaminathan Anklesaria Aiyar (I've always liked his articles). He has touched upon the heavy subsidies our government has been feeding us and now how it's become a vicious cycle difficult to get out of. A Catch-22 might I say. And I don't know economics - but that's the basic question that I asked of my fellow colleagues the other day at lunch - why can't we pay the prices we should be paying instead of paying subsidised prices? There will be low consumption and I think even the marginalised and BPL (below poverty line) brethren will manage because the government would've balanced it out with greater effort on non-conventional fuels. There're ways of doing things right, but not if one wants to give in to greed.

Read this on the food prices soaring and this was a very interesting article by Arun Firodia, Chairman, Kinetic Group. I understood some basics now and I think I'm going to turn vegetarian. As in not a part-time, convenient vegetarian, but an earnest vegetarian. That's the way to go, Kareena Kapoor's size zero figure notwithstanding (she apparently turned vegetarian).

Read this article here - I loved it and Mr.Arun Maira reflects on and writes about something close to my heart. I couldn't have written better. I urge you to read it. And think. About where we're heading.

My previous post said that we're on self-destruct. I still maintain it. The road to hell may be paved with good intentions my friend, but I will see you there. Heavens can indeed wait!

There's so much stuff happenin'!

2008-06-08T21:56:00.003+05:30

I liked reading my old posts here. I'm repetitive (LOL), but I think I'm the only living person on earth who really likes to read her own stuff and finds it really good reading.

I read a good post from this gentleman's post here today. It was while I was googling on another young lady who apparently is making a lot of noise on the blogosphere what with local TV news channels inviting her to speak on blogs et al.

So all this gets me thinking. Should I make my blog popular by trying to present a voyeuristic account of my life, what I think of sex, and some raucous accounts of my sex life (or its non-existence of it) or of my friend's (no, actually we don't discuss sex lives, don't know why, maybe because we come from an old school of thought and leave it between the sheets), or my boss's vital statistics (given that she's a woman) and so on? Because hey listen, blogs are a mean of expression. I wrote about it here in 2006 (and they're discussing about it now...egads! am I a progressive thinker and a 'social commentator' or what?). Read my blogs here - they're really cool (minus the stuff where I'm a mental wreck and I write self-flagellation stuff, but then who doesn't).

I had quite a few commentators on my blog (how sad, no one does that anymore). Someone called Rajneesh used to comment until I told him I found him cute and wanted to date him. He vamoosed. I started reading his blog because I found his sense of humour really funny and of course at that time I was achingly fond of one of his young friends who has since, been married, and I had to visit his blog to remember Rajneesh's blog (sorry mister, my memory does seem to have taken a hit).

Irfan has again decided to disappear. Psyche I think has gone to the US as she said she was going to and is of course probably too busy having fun to read up posts (which have been so infrequent). My other friends gave up on me and my posts a long time ago.

So anyway, there's a whole lot of shakin' goin' on, ma friends, I tell ya. There's too much stuff on the Net, the convergence bit on technology, marketing guys are thinking how to invade my mind through pernicious intrusive media (thanks to technology you can see what I'm doing in my bathroom man), and yet, markets suffer, oil prices soar, inflation hits, Indians eat and apparently accordingly to Mr.George W Bush, food prices go higher and so on. You know what! I write or not, read or not, play or not, think or not, talk about sex and orgasms or not, tits, balls, penises, books, politicos, head honchos, I can tell you this - we're on self-destruct.

Whatever we do, we can't save ourselves. Predictions, global warming, inflation, market economies, G8 summits notwithstandng, we're dying. It's pathetic to hear the cacophony of everything around, like a mother (Maa), in a Hindi movie, dying of cancer, saying 'betaa' (son to those who want the translation), as if by mouthing that plea, somehow she's going to actually live because she does want to, even after the hideously long suffering she's had to endure and doesn't mind enduring and some. We're actually in the vortex (I like the imagery that conjures up) of self-destruction and honestly, I'm not a prude or a pessimist or any of the names you want to fling upon me, but you can see it, we're almost there. It won't be long now.

It would be a sad end indeed and I wonder if our blogs would somehow end up somewhere, as leaves of a book in ether! You know, you've seen the credits of movies like Star Wars or any other sci-fi movie right? All the names appearing at the bottom of the screen and flying off may light years away into the backdrop of the Milky Way and many other such gazillion galaxies? Ok, now that you've got the picture, I think all these blog shlogs and everything in between will finally find its way there, like a 'blogroll' of credits from the pages of the History of Earth.

Someone, or something hopefully will find mine interesting. In the meantime, I think I will take some of my earlier posts on idiosyncrazies8.blogspot.com and compile them and hope for a publisher. There's so much stuff happening and if a young girl or a journo writes about 'finding men who rock their insides' so to speak and it's dissed and discussed about on national TV, hey, I write pretty ok too eh?

I will find my metier yet. Till such time, go flickr or tiwtter or check your facebook or youtube or jaiku or whatever. Find your idiosyncrasy.

It's been a while!

2008-06-03T20:50:00.003+05:30

2 months and 4 days to be precise. Since I last wrote anything here. I wasn't ok then. I'm not completely ok now either. Days have turned into weeks into months. I've blogged so much in my head it's not funny. But that's not enough is it? I need to occupy this space here too.

Just the other day a friend I caught up with, for brunch, mentioned how someone called Russell Davies, ex-Global Consumer Planning Director of Nike, wrote this interesting blog on 'How To Be Interesting'. I asked him to send me a link. Now as I was going through that piece, I realized that this man RD is a prolific writer and maintains at least 6 blogs. Jesus! And in the course 'googling' him, to find out exactly what his credentials were (I didn't remember what my friend told me about him being ex-Nike et al), I came across some interesting sites such as psfk.com. Yeah go figure! See? Thanks to RD, I've already found an interesting site!!

Ok, but this is where it's at, or rather where I'm at. I'm mentally and physically fatigued. I can't think anymore. The traffic and what it does to me is taking up every waking hour. The office, the remaining. I'm becoming a vegetable. Willy-nilly a vegetable. I don't want to seem to do anything much. I'm a whiner, a cribber, a fearful failure and a wreck. I'm lots of things. I'm tired even thinking of all the adjectives. Yes, I'm tired.

But there are odd moments of lucidity when I plan on rebuilding my life from scratch. Rebuilding my character, my attitude and revisiting my beliefs. I'm putting together an excel sheet, yeah, a simple excel sheet of what, when, time frames and a lot more blah, and that's going to become my road map, my log, my calendar and my minder. Am I weird or what?

The world's going crazy with technology, what with twitter and Facebook and Youtube and etsy and Flickr and what not. I can't keep pace with it. I should I know, but I can't. I'll wait for my moment and my time. I may be 2 months too late. Yes, nowadays everyday there's something new so what's new today is obsolete tomorrow and hence 2 months is probably equivalent to 20 years. So I may be 2 months too late butI will try.

But I still wonder - why am I trying so hard? What's the need to? What am I trying to prove? To whom? Why? I don't know the answers. I'm not even going to attempt to answer them now. I don't have the stamina to analyse all that. But yet, I want to do, to be something. Not be obscure. And one of the reasons I haven't written among many, is that, my blogs usually turn obscurantist in nature. (Who uses such words anymore eh?).

So in order to simplify the order of things, I'm going to try and reinvent myself. I don't know if it's worth it, don't know if I'll succeed or just give up and fail. Again, too many questions and answers none. Be it with technology, or 'being more interesting', or cultivating some new hobby, anything. I'm going to try. And when will this new avatar resurface as a 'born again'? 6 months? Maybe that's too little time. But I'll see.

This new change will require me to be unstinting and unflinching in the achievement of my goal with unwavering focus. For un nouvelle moi? Is that correct French? Je ne sais pas. Does it matter? Who reads this blog?

So there. Be prepared. For 'there she goes, there she goes again'. And hey, pray for me will you? I need 'em prayers, always have, but now more than ever.

It really is never ok!

2008-03-30T21:29:00.002+05:30

O-K! It's actually okay isn't it and not ok? Yeah, but it's never ok! Like my friend pruv says, it's really never ok.
It never is. It's ok only when you die. Because you're then in a state of ignorance which is supposed to be bliss.

I want that bliss. Because I want it to be ok. But it isn't. It never will be. I don't want to be me.

Just Desserts!

2008-03-30T21:08:00.004+05:30

I've always wondered whenever I've heard people talking, or writing about 'life altering' moments. That moment of truth when something inside you changes supposedly forever. A long-held belief, perception, attitude, mind-set, alters. It sets you on a path that is then your blue print to life.

Of course you and I and the hoi polloi don't get to be on Page 3 or the front covers of magazines and we're not talked about, or indulged by the media, because you and I are, well, just that...normal, ordinary, regular people (or so I would assume, and I know assumptions, interpretations are the mother of all fuck ups, but I'll chance it). So we don't make our millions, but we toil (what an archaic term, but then again, it's coming from someone archaic). We try and live honest lives, get completely embroiled in the daily chores and then struggle to get out of the vortex of our aspirations and desires. So no, you and I don't get interviewed and so the world never knows about the billions of regular people who have life-altering moments that sets many of them on the path to greatness.

Today, I had a 'moment'. I wouldn't call it life altering, but it certainly made me 'see'. What it did to me in the bargain is set me up for an emotional holocaust. Yes! When you realize certain not-so-nice-things about yourself and then you also realize that what you get from others is truly what you deserve, it is an indescribably raw moment. I won't go into the details of why I saw, what I saw. But it made my skin crawl. And you know what is worse? That you can't ask anyone for forgiveness, because they're in no mood to do as you bid. That even if, in your own mind, you plead guilty and try and see some justification, clutch at some stray goodness in the hope that it will obliterate all the badness, you know you won't get any forgiveness or understanding. That's bloody tough. Does it mean I've plundered, looted, raped? Well, not in the dictionary meaning of the term, but I have been a fearful dacoit of people's emotions and I'm getting the recoil. It's hit me in my solar plexus and a lot of things for me have changed, and will continue to change.

Relationships if nurtured can be desserts, if not, you get your just desserts! I'm getting mine and I don't know if I can live with this knowledge. And honestly, it doesn't matter how much you love, how much you do. It's about what's done that cannot be erased. That saying is so true, 'bricks and stones may break my bones, but words will never leave me'. My words spoken or written have caused pain to many. I don't know how to correct the wrong. I don't know, I really don't know....God! It hurts!

Just a thought!

2008-03-29T22:43:00.003+05:30

We're all such troubled souls aren't we?
Look around and people, you, I, everyone you know, don't know, anyone, everyone seems to be troubled. Over what? The same thing that troubles you :). Why? The same reason it troubles you?? Maybe.

Who knows? We're all troubled.

And then you see those bald children without their eyebrows or eyelashes, cherubic faces, full of life and mischief, from little 2 year old Ankita to 14 year old Sajjad. Hanging on to your every word. Matching your wit, your energy, grinning (at our troubles as if saying, 'he he, you troubled, fool?'), bustling, just being so full of life.

And life itself will soon ebb from their hearts and lungs and those smiles will be frozen in time. (They all have limited time to live. They suffer from cancer in various stages.)

And then I look around. And I find troubled souls. I look within, I find a troubled soul.

I'll never find the answer. I'll never know why. Them, us, you, I, trouble, life, questions, uh huh....nope...no answer.

Keep walking. (my favourite tag-line ever for any ad category, from Johnnie Walker).

Blogging in my head...

2008-03-10T22:31:00.003+05:30

...but haven't got down to blogging blogging, if you know what I mean. So much has happened since I last blogged. Won another freebie through some silly no-brainer contest on radio, saw Serena Williams defeat Patty Schnyder in a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see a tennis match like this one, saw 3 great musical legends of Indian classical music performing magic on the dais and felt blessed, felt happy at India routing Australia in a cricket tournament after 23 years, my home's done, bought a LCD (oh man, it's so big, it's just come in today and not connected yet so I can't tell you how it feels, except that it's BIG!), had a puja, am expecting my Income Tax refund at the end of this month after 2 years of waiting, turned down a job offer which I felt bad to, but they weren't giving me what I know I'm worth, shopped like there it was going out of style or maybe I was on some hash for it gave me a high and how, and I've been meaning to write about some vignettes, observations, some angst (of course), and more, but it's just not been so easy to come by that precious commodity called 'time'.

But here I am and there you are and the ether in between. But who are you? Are you me or am I you? Am I living a vicarious life or are you just feeding into my genetic mumbo jumbo and feeling free? Oh I don't know...here I am and there you are...whoever you are...I've been blogging in my head and it's gone to my head. :).

Amen!

My God, I won!

2008-02-05T13:14:00.000+05:30

Brief preamble:
Day 1 - Feb 4, 2008
I was waiting to see someone yesterday morning at 10.00 am. Whilst waiting I casually browsed through a magazine called 'Simply Bangalore', a supplement that comes along with India Today, a leading magazine. I saw a slew of events coming up in the city and I quickly took the contact number of one such event - a jugalbandi between two greats of Indian classical music - Pandit Shiv Kumar Sharma and Ustaad Zakir Hussain.

I called up the said number and found out the price of the tickets and how and where it could be purchased, etc. I immediately went online (like the rest of Bangalore apparently which witnesses the highest number of online bookings for anything and everything), and almost booked 2 tickets for the show. But I'm a bit wary of online transactions and then I didn't want to pay extra for the delivery of tickets by courier. Why pay Rs.200/- extra when the original price is inclusive of service fee? Anyway, after enquiring, etc., decided against it and thought, 'I'll go to Planet M and buy it".

Day 2 - Feb 5, 2008
I take a walk every morning around the building complex where I live, which is huge. It's become a ritual in my quest to remain fit, and of course lose weight. So I take ma's cell phone and plug into the radio stations. I listen to a few of them, mostly Radio Indigo and Fever. There's this duo called Rohit and Rajesh, RJs, who host the show every morning on Fever. This morning they were having a contest on the event that I was keen to go to. Prize? 2 free tickets to the show. So I sent my answer and in 5/6 minutes I get a call from the duo. I was shell shocked for a minute and then of course they verified my answer and then went 'live' on air and was thrilled to bits.

Yes, I won! My God! I've never won anything in my life...not a safety pin for crying out loud! Gee, this winning is a good thing man! Especially when it comes like this. No wonder the Ozzies don't want to let go of their well fought claim to being the best cricket team in the world. Actually anyone who wins at anything and especially if it's hard fought wouldn't like to give it up and I can understand why!

But wow! I feel good, and I'm going to see the concert with ma and I'm so hap-hap-hap-happeeee!

Maybe I should dream of some more things and hopefully it'll happen.

But for now give me a hi-5! YEAH!!!!!!!!!!

My home, my home, sigh, my home!

2008-01-23T13:00:00.000+05:30

Home redecorating and renovation is the most stressful thing a human being can undertake. I would rate it even higher than on the stress-o-meter than a stressful marriage or a relationship.

My home renovation work commenced in September of 2007. 4 months, 23 days and 13 hrs have gone by and we're still not done yet. Painting, polishing, alterations (minor) are still pending. It's all happening, but now am at the end of my tether. I'm just waiting for it to GET DONE!!

But it's hats off to my ma! She's been the Project Manager on this and has managed it as well as a 64 year old could. She's been house bound, she's breathed cement dust, polish fumes, slept on unkempt and dusty beds, made unending cups of 'chai', made a gazillion follow up calls, bore the brunt of my impatience and finicky 'perfectionist' attitude, called some more, was patient, stubborn, willing and committed. But now, I think she's almost lost it I think (and can one blame her?). If it doesn't get over this month, I think both she and I are willing to abandon it and go off to Rishikesh.

But seriously, I could write a case study on the do's and don'ts of home improvement. Maybe I should. It'd be a wonderful DIY guide to stress free home improvement for all those who're just about to embark on this journey. For none of us are aware of all the potholes and pitfalls and the million little things that crop up after you've okayed it with your Interior Designer. Then the fun begins...hoo boy! And if you don't have a SPOC (Single Point of Contact) then hoo hoo boy!

Anyway, ma and I are now taking each day as it comes and literally strike the days off our calendar saying 'one more day down' with no end date in sight. LOL! So maybe February 1, 2008 may see the end of the Home Improvement Project and ma and I can sleep on clean beds, in a clean home with functional bathrooms and lights and hopefully as very tired, stressed out but satisfied souls.

Hallelujah to that!

Had to say it!

2008-01-17T10:31:00.000+05:30

Am feeling low - so had to say it!
This feeling isn't alien to me, but still had to say it.

Want to soak up the sun on a beach and sip a lovely tall glass of some cool Long Island Iced Tea. This feeling ain't alient to me either, but still had to say it.

All the guys in my life sucked! It's of course on hindsight, and I knew it, but just saying out loud helps. Maybe they thought of me the same way, but right now who gives a damn! But it's wonderful just saying it out loud. There will be some who might take umbrage, but too bad sonny boy, you, you, you and you sucked! And big time! Had to had to had to say it.

Feeling lost in this big bad world, like Babe in the Woods, and wondering why, where, what, how is not alien to me at all. But had to say it.

There's a post that I want to do about domestic violence and what it does to my thinking of love and marriage and commitment. Ok, now that I've said it, I should do it too isn't it? I mean write about it dumbo :).

Carcasses of hit and run dogs on the road still do something to me and I can't seem to be unaffected by it. I've said this before and I'm saying it again. I can't deal with it somehow. And I don't know what the bloody hell to do about it, except drive over them, feel squeamish, think of getting out and giving that mass of blood and flesh some decent burial, oh I don't know dammit.

Am thinking of adopting a baby. Wow! I said that. (I'm bloody apprehensive but, yes, I don't think I will have babies of my own and that kills me of course, but what to do, that is life.).

I will never have monies enough to buy me a cruise ship or that big, mean, monstrous mansion with 3 swimming pools (and one of them heated mind you), or have that gorgeous Merc N-class (am sure they'll come out with the ultimate luxury machine), or have a private jet, or have diamonds dripping from my fingers and ears (ugh!!), or take off on a whim to Goa or Rio or the Riviera and have a blast at some party there, or shop for Manolo Blahnik shoes at Milan or of course wear Armani, Gucci, or Roberto Cavalli. I said that. That's the truth.

I will always be slightly depressed about many things in life that were not accomplished by me, or definitely have some regrets about what I said, did or didn't do at work or in my relationships. I said that too.

I will always fight weight. I will always wish I was beautiful to look at. I will always wish the men hadn't left me. I will always wish for a surprise birthday party. I will always wish I was 10 years younger. I will always wish I had my father around to see me become the woman I have. Damn! I said that. It hurts, it bloody well hurts, but I said it. God sometimes how I hate all the girls who are their 'daddy's little princess' and have adoring fathers who sing and dance and dedicate songs to them and what not. Damn damn damn!

I will always be a bloody emotional fool. I will always be weak willed when it comes to gorging on sweets. I will always aspire for the above mentioned 'good life' (that's the way I define it, yeah, am just another ordinary herd-minded woman, God, I said that too). I will always find fault in myself and wish I was perfect. I will always want my friends to completely adore me and pamper me and be completely loyal and faithful to me. Yes yes yes, I said all that.

Oh God! I don't think I can say any more, because I'm actually feeling so bloody low and so misty eyed and so teary, that I feel like a jerk myself right now. (Did I just say that?).

I wish I could just have...no I won't say that.

Raison d'etre!

2008-01-14T14:21:00.000+05:30

Strange isn't it when you think of it! Why do you need a raison d'etre to live? We celebrate brithdays and make such a hoo ha of it, because I presume it's about a celebration of life. The day we saw the sunlight coming out of the warm cocoon of our mother's wombs was the day we breathed life. And birthdays I presume are a celebration of that. So then why do we all need a raison d'etre?

Of course as I'm wont to do, I may be presumptous in thinking that everyone is seeking, searching and wanting a rde. Well that may or may not be true and I won't belabour that point. The moot point being, why do I need to live for so and so or have a reason to earn so much, or have a goal and an objective and be focused and all that. Why do I need to be a doctor, engineer, do this, climb that, achieve this, earn that, display this, etc.

Actually I can play devil's advocate here and say that the previous statement almost endorses one to be a drifter, a loser, kind of person (these are of course based on my conditioned definitions of who is what, and what one should be doing in life, etc. and am hoping that by that admission, it exonerates me of some of the guilt I feel when I label people as such).

Yet, I can see that if I didn't want to be a doctor, then who'd cure me of my ailments, and so on. But is that what this post is about? No, not really. I'm not sure if I can capture the sentiment I'm feeling right now, but it's like this - I'm a doctor sure. I became one (let's assume everything as hypothetically ideal situations) to alleviate suffering. That's my objective and goal in life. I achieve that then the rest are all non-essentials. But no, we want to be Head of Surgery, we want to have 'x,y,z' degrees to show off or because it helps in career advancement, I want a better car and want to live in Malabar Hill or travel to exotic locations, etc.

So is that bad? (Am being the advocate again). Hmm...where is this going? Well...don't know.

But I do know one thing - my raison d'etre is to be happy. And bring happiness to those I know and love and respect and cherish and be a good person as best as I know how. I can't be perfect and there are a number of things I have done as a person which may have caused hurt and disappointment and anger to those I care about and to self. It may be unforgivable and I will pay for it and am paying for it as I live each day.

Raison d'etre. Reason to be!

I live, I love, I cry, I wake up, I walk, I live, I love, I cry, I laugh, I sin, I think.

What's your raison d'etre?

I wish I had a crystal ball!

2008-01-10T11:39:00.000+05:30

Hey everyone out there, it's the New Year, 2008 and the 2nd week already. Trust it's been good thus far for everyone. It's been pretty ok for me, no complaints :).

Started off feeling very positive about the year and felt that whatever would happen would be very good etc. Just a very strong feeling don't ask me why. But it feels good to be positive believe you me. Especially when you're bogged down by your own negative and depressing thoughts, the positivity gives you energy. In fact my New Year resolutions (which I don't make in any earnestness) is about the 3 Ps - Positivity, Perseverance and Patience. Nice eh?

Let's hope that I stick to it. A lot of things will fall into place if I do. Road rage, career, mental stillness and thus confidence, etc.

Today however, is one of those days that I feel like just upping and leaving. And not looking back with regret. I am so conditioned to be conservative, cautious, fearful that it's become my DNA and so it seems that I will never be able to do what I crave for - which is to leave and do things other than what I'm currently doing. Why? Financial insecurity and the cushion that I again yearn for and am striving towards (aren't we all? Well, almost all, barring the lucky few who aren't?).

But day after day after day, weeks and months on end, one can't just be a bench warmer. I can't. I can actually advice people to stick it out and mouth platitudes such as so what, it's comfortable, the monies are coming in, no stress, what's your problem just hang in there, etc., but gosh! when it comes to self, I just can't. My mind needs to work, I need to be challenged, I need to feel valued, I need to feel that I'm contributing for the monies that I get paid, etc, etc. And the worst thing is to deal with guilt that am not doing much.

So the insane urge to up and leave. But it's the moment isn't it? It comes, you either seize it or it's gone. Well, I have some financial liabilities, and that's why am a wee bit worried if I do quit. What will I do if I quit? Oh what I've always wanted to do, be on my own and consult, free lance, be a retainer, etc. But the effort that I have to put into networking, sell my services, etc., is a wee bit daunting. But nothing gained if nothing risked right? I know all that, but but but...how do I take that plunge? I can manage for a few months without regular salary coming in, but not for long. So it'd be a make or break for me if I do decide to pursue this path or go back to the rut if it doesn't work, or get mired deeper in the rut I already am. Not so tough especially as I don't have kids and too many other liabilities and only my ma to look after who I love and like to spoil her.

So yes it's a dilemma...follow the heart and be free or listen to the mind and be chained forever?

Crystal ball, crystal ball, what's the fairest route of all?

Boring boring aaaaaaarrrrrgggghhh!

2007-12-27T11:48:00.000+05:30

Office this past week has been a virtual morgue. Not a soul not even dead bodies. Well, that's an exaggeration. I've been coming as have a few others, but then in a place that is buzzing with 1200 different bodies and minds and voices everyday, it's so silent that you can perhaps hear a pin drop.

It's a nice feeling too strangely enough. To be able to come to work and do your own thing without being bothered by calls or emails or anything else. But well yes, it's boring.

So am going out for New Year's. For a change, yeah! And some friends're coming along too. For a change, yeah! Hope it's fun and am wondering what to wear. Perhaps jeans and a nice clingy top eh? But I need to keep warm especially after my bout of throat infection. Guess the alcohol will keep me warm, but then I have to be able to drive home safely too. Oh God, I don't want to be wasted...just drink, eat, meet some nice handsome and intelligent, funny hunks (nope, that combination doesn't exist), dance, sing and generally feel good about being alive.

I think am so bored, that I will begin writing my book. What will it be about? Dunno. Title? Dunno. Fiction, non-fiction? Dunno. Just write that's what I have to do I say. To stave off this utter boredom. Have applied for new jobs, have surfed, and now am trying to figure out what to do.

Will wait for a couple of hours and then scoot. Boring boring boring I say!

So what's up for 2008? Resolutions? Marriage? Babies? New exciting career opportunities? Heart break? Weight loss? Weight gain? New home? Old home being new? New mom? New dad? New affair? Savings? Multiplication of monies? What?

Something's gotta give...or else it's so boring!

Cough sniffle yuletide ho ho New Year uh oh!

2007-12-24T14:08:00.000+05:30

Yup! That time of the year when all of the above happens. I'm on Stage 3 now...yeah, Yuletidings et al.

So Merry X'mas and Happy New Year to all ye folks whichever stage you're at, and have a lovely 2008.

I'm going to try to have a good one. Resolutions or no resolutions! Weight, age, grey no bar. Not going to let all these very trying and sometimes crying things get me down.

It's the time to party!

So where's the party tonight?

Are we really like that? Or am I?

2007-12-11T17:42:00.000+05:30

Over the past 2 years and some, thanks to my blog, I've made contact with a few fellow bloggers. Needless to say have made more than contact, in fact have been emotionally embroiled with beings who have shared the ether with me like a gazillion others.

I started out thinking blogging is for nerds and geeks and why'd anyone want to write on a public forum, blah blah blah. I started too and became addicted to it. It was my salve, my alter ego, my 'attention seeking' gimmick (?), my diary, or what have you. I wrote because I liked to. Initially I was apprehensive and tested the waters...when I realized I could be fairly anonyomous, I did venture to spill a lot more guts and didn't mind any lack of glory.

I still feel shy and afraid of course, to write out my deepest thoughts here.
(a) - why should I share my deepest most intimate thoughts with strangers or friends out there?
(b) - if I can find it boring to read others' 'eat my heart out' outpourings, then imagine readers of my posts - poor things!

Of course I can counter argue and say, this post here wasn't meant for public comments and meant to win a popularity contest and so I should ideally write what I feel. I do. Sometimes when I'm emotionally troubled, posts become repetitive and more of a 'look at me, I'm so sad, others are so bad, help me, I need sympathy'.

That's what one of my blogger friends told me last week. That women generally write every granular detail of how they're lonely, sad, emotionally fraught, morbid, etc., and this is a ploy mostly for them to get 'hooked'. The same goes for men too I believe.

Dear God! I don't want to ever be categorised like that. Yes, of course am lonely and lately have been having a very rough emotional roller coaster, but am I desperate? No way! Do I wish to be perceived as someone who's desperate and in need of some pity? Not a chance honey!

In fact I'd of course like to profess envy about all those who write wittily (I remember that blogger, randomvariable guy who was funny and I would've honestly liked to date him), or write interesting stuff about anything and everything. But I can't write like that, that's fine. But please don't label me as a 'poor old woman tsk tsk tsk'. Uh huh!

So there! Yes, am having a tough time trying to figure out why he dumped me and of course am questioning my ability to sustain a relationship. Yes, am having a tough time trying to convince myself that 'it's not about you, but about me' reasoning is actually so true. Yes, it's tough, but I will move on and I will seethe and writhe and hate and love again. And perhaps fail again. And that kills me, it truly does.

So, well, no song to sing or hum or whatever. Work is well nothing to write home about. Friends are fine and well, life is going on.

Yes, life is going on. Maybe not on the edge of excitement, maybe on the edge of breaking down completely, but yeah,...life is going on.

Monday it's gobbledygook, Friday it's over!

2007-12-07T11:13:00.001+05:30

It's over. It's just over. Just like that. And I can't write no more, because the hurt, the pain and the tears refuse to let me be.

Cope, cope, cope! Walk, walk, walk! Lots of 4 letter words already pepper this post - hurt, hurt, hurt, pain, pain, pain, tear, tear, tear.

Love? Gone.

It's over. Yeah, just like that.

Heal? Help? I need a miracle.

Gobbledygookbobaburp!

2007-12-03T10:59:00.000+05:30

...noideawhattosayasit'sthebeginningoftheweekandit'saMondayandweallknowhowwehateMondaysandthebluessetinandwellI'vehadadecentweekendbutamatofficeandIalreadywanttogohome.

Is that too much gobbledygook? Ha ha ha! So what? We all need a bit o' gobbledygookinourlives eh?

Well, just hum this song and feel good to begin a Monday morning, whereever you may be, whatever you may be doing, whoever you are and however you feel. Come on hum the chorus of this song with me and sing out loud and clear -

Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten
Oh, oh, oh...

HaveagreatMondayandevenifitdoesnotmakesensejustsoakitallinandbehappytobealive.

It's just one of those days when...

2007-11-23T10:18:00.000+05:30

... I could scream till my lungs popped out of my rib cage and the veins in my head burst from the temples.

I could really scream. I need to be knocked senseless or have an accident and die (but the thought of my mother at the receiving end of the news makes this a 'no-no') or just be swallowed by the earth. Do I want to spill my guts here and look for sympathy? No. Do I want to accuse someone of being wrong? No. Do I want to sound all virtuous and feel wronged? No. By admitting to all this do I feel good inside? No.

I just want to scream and vent some spleen. That's all. Just scream and scream and maybe practise some kick-boxing. And keep going at it till I am spent. Of the ability to think or work or anything.

Yes. I'm having a torrid time.

Want to but don't want to...

2007-11-18T23:05:00.000+05:30

That title is so provocative isn't it? Well I've tons of things to write about, but am feeling frightfully lazy.

So yeah, want to, but don't want to alright?

Take care world and hope not too much goes drastically wrong till the next time I decide to write. Cause I don't want to write about some horrific event or the doldrums that I or the world at large is feeling, etc.

So ciao, be good, stay delightful and I'll see you when I see you!

Carpe Diem!

2007-11-14T20:46:00.000+05:30

I like the way the term sounds. For all my self-proclaimed knowledge and love for la langue Anglais, I heard the term fairly recently or late in life. And see what I found on google (oh how I luuuuuuurv you google...tu sahi hai boss). Oh! And I love aapro wikipedia also hanh!

Carpe diem is a phrase from a Latin poem by Horace (Odes 1.11). It is popularly translated as seize the day, although a more literal translation of "carpe" would be "pluck" (pluck the day), as in the plucking of fruit.

The poem:
Leuconoe, don't ask — it's dangerous to know —
what end the gods will give me or you.
Don't play with Babylonian
fortune-telling either.
Better just deal with whatever comes your way.
Whether you'll see several more winters or whether the last one
Jupiter gives you is the one
even now pelting the rocks on the shore with the waves
of the Tyrrhenian sea--be smart, drink your wine.
Scale back your long hopes
to a short period.
Even as we speak, envious time
is running away from us.
Seize the day, trusting little in the future.

Now isn't that something!! I like what it stands for, the implied meaning of it. We all go through so much in life. Every one of us has 'baggage', complexities, complexes, complications, compounded problems /issues/ concerns most of which seem such a fait accompli.

In reality (is there a reality anyway, for aren't we all in an illusory bubble which is waiting to burst and cast us all into vapour? ooooh, sorry for the digression), the reality as we know no other, is that we all tend to get caught up in the whirlpool of ifs and buts and whys and why nots and God alone knows what else!

We fail miserably to lead happy lives (now that has to be some figure of speech there - miserably happy - oxymoron??) and we become totally self-absorbed, self-centred and blinkered, probably myopic even. Because happiness is something we crave for, we aspire for and we all have an idea of, though none of us knows how it looks. Every one of the 6 billion people inhabiting this little blue planet has a version of what happiness feels like. Yet we make it so bloody difficult to be so.

Maybe, just maybe we're all afraid to be happy. Wonder why! Is it because then we'd have no raison d'etre, no reason to worry, crib, compare, be jealous, competitive, or what have you. Yes! we revel in being unhappy. I think I've hit the nail. No, not actively I say, but we seem to feed our fears of never being happy and so it comes true. Of course does that mean we all need to be deliriously happy and go about our daily living with cheesy smiles on our faces like little smileys? No way, but methinks we're just a way too weird and complicated species. That bloody brain of ours needs to be shot to smithereens sometimes, or maybe just plain ignored. Ignorance is truly bliss eh?

For instance I'll worry about what he'll think or feel or say if I said so and so to him. Will he get uptight and defensive and therefore offensive or brood or recoil or what? But then I think to myself - I have one life, and here's a guy I like (I really do) - who's fairly chilled out, but yet keeps me at a distance. So why not tell him what I feel when I feel it and as long as I'm not hurting him, theek hai na? Am sure I drive him up the wall, but then we've all driven someone somewhere up various perpendicular inclines sometime or the other, so be it, if he's the (un) lucky one.

So yeah, I have one life and I need to carpe diem! Get it? I wish more of us did! Let's all try and be happy ok? Ok?

Roller coaster hee haw!

2007-11-03T11:27:00.001+05:30

Life's been like that! Roller coaster of so many ups and downs. I went to Pune, met my boss who is a few months younger than I (almost 10 months to the day) and we had a long chat. She's very well put together and has seen the worst of times in her life. She and I get along very well and she knew the stress I was going through. I'd broken down on the phone earlier while speaking with her.

So we talked and I told her about all that's not going right with my life, personally, professionally and she listened. That was really sweet of her - how many of us listen? ...

Ok so this post has been in the making for the past 2 weeks and I can't get myself to write anything even remotely connected...I tried, but it didn't happen.

So I ditch this post. Sorry post...don't mind me. I've been ditched so many times in the past, let's see if you know how it feels to be left high and dry.

Take care, till next time.

Oh by the way, I'm feeling up, no down, no no no, actually up....awww..does it matter? We've got to enjoy the ride.

Why is everything so important?

2007-10-17T20:59:00.000+05:30

In one of my recent posts I'd mentioned how my relationship with everything was changing. I was feeling better about some aspects of it. My counsellor says it's a sign of a quiet confidence, of maturity, of hope that life can go on and go on fairly well despite and inspite of everything going wrong.

I know I can sense a certain strength and do not quake at every single tremor. But the tremor that I currently face in my life vis-a-vis my relationship is Richter 9.4. Yes, it's threatening to consume me and make mince meat of my supposed 'quiet confidence' and emboldened statements of 'relationship with this and that is changing'. Hah!

I think I've always maintained that relationships are important. And maybe because they're so important that I make a mess of it. The need for things to be just so, the need for the harps to thrum and angels to appear and birds to sing and chirp and rainbows to appear is so great, that I think I forget the 'real'ness of life on Planet E.

Well, let me not be so harsh on myself. It's so easy for me to be harsh on myself. It's so easy for me to feel as if I'm always the wrong one. It's so easy for me to feel guilty. It's so easy for me to say sorry. But now, I mull over the statements I'm so ready to pronounce on self. I'm not so keen to think that I'm the wrong one. I guess that's evolution eh?

But suffice to say that I'm troubled. So troubled that I can't think of anything else. I feel numbed. I feel hopeful and yet I feel defeated. I feel like being a typical Bollywood heroine and beating my head against the wall while entreating the Almighty, and yet I feel a small ray of hope. I don't want to say I'm cursed and it's me, but don't know what else to do really. God knows I care. And how! But God also knows best. I can't compel anyone to feel anything. I can't rave and rant and threaten and immolate myself or do something melodramatic. Earth rotates, breaths continue to be taken, time continues to tick, night follows day and so the story goes, that we keep walking.

But really, why is it that this is so important? Especially if it's ashes to ashes and dust to dust...and everything is maya. I once told myself that I wouldn't ever ask why. But God leaves me no choice...I think it's time He answered a few questions. I can't always be on the receiving end. And it can't always be 'it's not you'.

Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!

I wrote!

2007-10-11T17:51:00.000+05:30

And I spewed it out. Not all of it. But quite a bit of it.

Not here. But someplace else.

Don't know if I feel relieved.

But I wrote.

Period!

Evolution!

2007-09-16T17:50:00.000+05:30

Statement: My relationship with my blog has changed.

It doesn't feel like it used to at one point in time.

Statement: My relationship with my mother has changed.

There are times when I absolutely hate her and there are times when I think she's the most amazing woman on earth. Sometimes I just feel like gnashing my teeth and praying to God for patience!

Statement: My relationships with my best friends have changed.

I don't expect anything from them anymore and also know that they don't care so much. The equation has changed and the blinkers are off.

Statement: My relationship with money has changed.

I don't fear the lack of it any more. It doesn't give me sleepless nights and doesn't make me cringe and whinge and cry and have my bheja fried as it used to.

Statement: My relationship with my body has changed.

I don't want the figure I had 10 years ago. I'm more or less (yes, this is a tough one) ok with what I've got. I'm learning to love it.

Statement: My relationship with my 'single' status is changing.

I'm beginning to enjoy my own freedom and inspite of a craving to be wooed and wined and dined and loved and pampered (which won't happen ever), I'm learning that that is not the only thing in life. And the men I attract in life have always had so much baggage that by the time they kind of rest at my port, they're too tired to do, say, feel anything. It hurts of course, but I say it's changing. That's good!

Statement: My relationship with my goals and objectives in life is changing.

I've begun thinking about it a bit more seriously and don't fear failure. I'm beginning to realize that it's important to fulfill some of the dreams. In fact it's important to have dreams. I'm slowly but surely getting into that mode. For a long time in my life, dreams and goals had take a back seat. But does that mean living in the Now or in the moment is out? Naaah! That's important too.

Right. I'm a single, attractive, independent, genuinely warm, extremely sharp and wonderful person. And that's the most important thing I've ever acknowledged publicly ever.
And in case any one senses vanity, there is none. It's a fact.

I like evolution. It's about change. It's about movement. It's about life and all that jazz.

I'm evolving. Period.

Mixed Bag!

2007-09-09T14:21:00.001+05:30

My forecast for August was 'It's going to be a hectic month'. And boy, it was and how!

Work-wise it was a blur. Me settling in at the new work place, extremely conscious of how everyone was assessing me, seeing how I'd be able to cope, etc. But all said and done, I've been in so many jobs in so many places that by now I'm inured to the shenanigans of office folk, how they think, how they behave, etc. Of course I'm still naive inspite of trying to paint this 'Oh I've seen it all' blase image that I try to portray, but that's really my defence mechanism. It's almost like telling everyone out there, 'so beware, you can't pull a fast one on me', but inspite of which I do get shocked and surprised at people and what they do or think. Yes, that's why I'm still naive.

But all in all a month where a lot happened and it seems will continue to happen as I walk ahead in 2007.

I'm getting my home re-decorated. Well, let's say that I've started with the civil work of removing, replacing and getting all the tiling and flooring done. It's actually exciting and horrid at the same time if you know what I mean. My poor ma has to be amidst the rubble and debris and dust all day long whereas I have the cocoon and comfort of office. We've been rushing to the loo to my aunt's place who lives 3 floors down. Yes, our bathrooms are just plastered walls and jutting pipes and debris ridden floors. Both of them. Sigh! But both ma and I just keep thinking of how it's going to be and that keeps us going. And honestly it's just been a week since it started and in another week it should all be 'sewn up' as they say. But man to get the loan from a financial institution was nerve racking. 'Loan sharks' is the most apt term ever coined. They're ready to tear you limb from limb, emotionally blackmail you, ask for your accounting and financial statements in such detail, that you finally realize there is no 'free person' or 'private person' in this world. Someone somewhere is keeping an eye on what you do, how much you earn, what you do with the money and that eye is not an eye in the sky believe me. Scary thought and actually worse than the KGB! Sometimes a known adversary is better than an unknown one. You never know who and where and when these all pervasive, intrusive and omniscient 'eye' will pounce on you and make your life hell. The Taxman cometh is like the hangman cometh for sure!

Ok, so waded through deep waters, fobbed off the sharks, emerged triumphant from the Jaws and work has begun. And that's the bottom line.

My business completed its first transaction and that's another feather. I've dug deep for the energy, patience and enthusiasm required of me to ensure that this didn't suffer. And as I go along the business,I realize, no two human beings are meant to be together for long in any relationship. It's tough not to lose my cool and sometime just give up with my business partner. But move on we must. So yes, I realize that in any relationship, be it business, parental, sibling, marriage, love, friends, work, anything, take anything...human beings are inherently selfish and power hungry and insecure. It takes a hell of a lot of guts, courage and compromise for any two people to be together for a while without tearing each other apart. I'm learning and as I walk different paths, am sure even this 'light bulb' moment kind of truth will change. After all, the only truth is, change is constant and death and taxes are certain, right?

Lots of things happening around the world about which most of us are informed. Be it sports, politics, entertainment or what have you. Yes, life's a circus and as Raj Kapoor very philosophically said in his movie, Mera Naam Joker, 'Jeena yahaan, marna yahaan, iske siva jaanaa kahaan?'

So take a glass of whichever coloured liquid that finds favour with you, raise it and say, 'Keep walking'. After all that's all we can and should do. Didn't anyone tell you it's all about walking and not running, jogging, stopping, gasping?

See you at the next turn!

Four-letter words!

2007-08-19T22:47:00.000+05:30

I remember a long time ago, perhaps last year, I'd written a post consisting of all four-letter words. I suddenly remembered it now, as I sat down to update my blog. Like my friend pruvaloo has expressed in his blog, I too don't want my blog to suddenly fade away into infinite nothingness and so I've decided to keep this blog well oiled and revving. However (and I never thought I'd say this), my creative juices may not be at an all time high or even at the half mark. I don't feel the words flowing out of my head into my fingers as I furiously type away at my key board. No siree, they don't. There's a certain hesitancy, there's a certain fumbling, like young lovers tugging at clothes in the first flush of lust. But write I will however haltingly and not so infrequently.

Anyway, so 15th August came and went. My country's 60th year of Independence. A time very like New Year or New Year's eve when I generally contemplate about how it's been, how it was and where we as a nation are going. Like I heard or read somewhere, it's time we are the solution instead of harping and cribbing and dissing about problems.

So I sat around in a circle with 200 odd strangers, fellow countrymen, city dwellers, neighbours, clutching at different sized drums and percussion instruments and we beat the hell out of drums. Yes, I celebrated Independence Day differently this time instead of lazing around doing nothing, feeling nothing except a sense of relief at the national holiday and relief from work. Hah! But this time around I beat drums. Just followed the facilitator in the circle and felt the rhythm pulsating through my bones. Locked eyes with other older, younger people and just felt One. Felt good. I was part of the Drum Jam organized by a local group calling themselves Drum Jam. I'd heard of this being done in Australia and Singapore, etc., but to experience it first hand right here in my neighbourhood, maaaaan! it sure felt good. So I didn't find instant solution to the 591083346 million problems plaguing my nation, but I started out by feeling good about myself first. (I've been feeling miserable lately and there's nothing that I seem to do or say or not to or not say seems to be making a difference to the situation).

Have had a hair cut today. I think am looking pretty neat. (Next step to feeling better about the way I look and feel.)

So there we go with the four-letter words. Drum! Hair! Neat! Look! Good!

Should I even bother about the other four letter word in my life that never seems to stay? I would love to use a four-letter expletive right here right now to express what I currenly feel, but this here is a family blog I say.

Oh by the way, for all those who sometimes pass by this post and take cognisance of recommendations of R, go watch Chakk De!

Very nice!

(Howzzat to end with 2 four-letter words eh?! Neat na?)

S.O.S.

2007-08-03T04:53:00.001+05:30

Deeply distressed. And extremely stressed. Lots of things to write about. Exciting and worrisome things. But right now my mindshare is really about the most important aspect of my life.

I need help to fathom what's going on. I'm so WYSIWYG (What You See Is What You Get) that am unable sometimes to see the many layers that some of us don (hide under?).

I don't know what to do, how to do, what not to do. It's a horrible place to be.

Help. Somebody? Anybody? Is there anybody out there at all?

This circle of life is killing me.

Is this the fork in the road?

2007-07-16T07:07:00.000+05:30

I've taken the right. No left. No right. Er...well, I've been hand picked and placed at the centre of the fork in the road. Now whether it's Right or Not Right, I'll know after I've trudged down the path a few miles.

I'm of course nervous. And apprehensive. New job. New organization. New colleagues. New responsibilities. New monies. New business. New phase in life.

Some of it is a path less travelled. Some of it, like a new job, is something I've done before. But like stage fright, every time you go on stage, even for your 1000th show, you have butterflies in your stomach? I feel the same way right now.

It eventually turns out well. But that's only for me to know later.

That's all on the career/job front.

On matters of the heart too, am nervous. I like him so much it hurts. I want him so much that it hurts more :). And then familiar bouts of insecurity assail me and the ugly questions gnaw at my innards. It's simple really, I want this to work. 4 months gone and sometimes I'm afraid to enunciate all that I feel. Fear, god, fear, it can kill you, if not ruin you first. Well, all I can do is live on hope, hope and some more hope. And learn the art of patience. Right now I'm holding my breath.

So what's it going to be for you? Right, Not Right, Left or...? These forks in the road I tell ya...maybe we should all get a spoon instead.

A wunnerful feelin'!

2007-07-03T12:31:00.000+05:30

It's been a while since I last blogged. A month to be precise. Have I missed it? Yes, I have. But am suffering from writer's block. I don't have anything to write about. Actually I do, but the words don't come tumbling out as they used to earlier. I can't see the post all written and formed like I used to. Maybe I'm spending too much time texting on my cell. Hmmm...that's definitely a plausible reason.

So you get up one morning without expectation of it being a good, bad or ugly day. Just another day you think to yourself. And voila! One mail, one call, or one piece of communication is all it takes to change the mood. When they say life is full of surprises, they're not kidding, believe you me.

Today, that one mail gave rise to an unbelievable moment. Of seeing the fruition of many hours of slogging and days spent dreaming and planning and praying and following up and just waiting.

So it's happened. My business web site is up and 'live' and kicking. Our business cards are printed and so are our letter heads. Our company is being incorporated in tandem. And we're gearing up with fulfillment partners to get it moving, so to speak.

Yes, it's a good feeling.

Now am waitin' for this wunnerful feelin' to permeate every facet of my life on a more permanent basis - professional, personal, emotional, spiritual. But then what is permanence eh? The only constant that you and I know of is 'change'.

But as long as there's lots of lovin' from those I care about, I think life would be a cake walk I say :).

Oh what a wonderful, wonderful feeling!

Oh blimey!

2007-06-03T22:24:00.000+05:30

I couldn't think of a better title. It's one of those days. Yes! Just one of those blessed days you know. You don't wake up thinking you're going to feel a certain way, but as the day wears on, it wears you down.

The same old dogged fears and negative thoughts and the same old heavy baggage starts to gently gnaw at you and tug at you like a pup would at your ankles. So you're in a dilemma - should I shoo it away or pick it up and cuddle it and play with it because it's so lovable? :) The allegory here is one's thoughts to a puppy. Yes, sometimes I don't make sense. Actually most times I don't, sometimes more than most.
Ummm..yes familiar thoughts are like adorable pups. You're so comfortable when they lodge in your mind and heart that you don't have the heart to shoo them away. Unlike pups, familiar and depressing thoughts are dangerous and they have a ruthless and insidious way of eating into your innards and ruining your day, your life actually.

I've been battling with thoughts such as these for as long as I remember. And it really does wear me down. I get fed up of feeling, thinking, writing, analysing, talking about the same old things that worry me, and eventually will kill me.

So I was listening to Sudha Murthy talk onTV today. She doesn't appear in interviews as often as maybe her more illustrious and famous husband, N R Narayan Murthy, the man who could be President of the nation (?). She said how money is not important at all to her and how shopping makes her so uncomfortable. And it struck me that a lot of people who've come into wealth, or built wealth and seen unimaginable wealth eventually say, 'money isn't important'. But they say it after the fact. Because till such time one has experienced it, one is striving for the very same thing that is not 'important'. But anyway, guess it's the truth and each one has to run their own marathon to arrive at theirs.

So why did I bring that up? Because I want to get away from the things that bother me and upset me and disappoint me and cause me to be vitriolic and caustic and all that is not right. Age, body, success, money, relationships, perceptions, reality, oh the whole gamut. I clothe them in these broad parameters so that I don't have to go into specifics, but yes, it's the same bloody thing over and over and over again. I know I'm striving to be more positive and I've come a long way, but it's never enough. And then I think to myself, if everyone who supposedly is more experienced and enlightened says nothing is permanent, then why am I worried about such transient matters? Everyone grows old, every body undergoes change, success is relative, money is impermanent (even though it makes the world go round), perceptions are as constant as change, reality - what's that? and finally relationships. Relationships are sustenance, substance, and life itself. In any and every form with any and every thing and every being, animate and inanimate.

So er..what's the point that I'm trying to make? Am I trying to make a point or as usual am writing some shitty piece of nonsense that is just a mass of words that is meandering in the labyrinths of my mind. Don't know.

Like I said it's just one of those days. Where you want to be everything that you know you are not. Where you want to experience everything that you know you won't. Where you want and you know you won't get. Maybe it's PMS - post menstrual syndrome.

Yes, it's just one of those days. Oh blimey!

PS - Cheeni Kam is a nice movie. It makes you want to believe in love. Well, yeah, that stupid little four letter word denoting some stupid little emotion that the whole world goes ga ga over and tries to demystify it or elevate it or decode it and how it's not stupid at all and how I wish... jumpin'lizards and all that blimey!

PPS - I like the word chutzpah! My friend Merriam Webster says:
Etymology: Yiddish khutspe, from Late Hebrew huspAh

Linger!

2007-05-23T21:44:00.000+05:30

There's something about the word 'linger'. Among the many definitions that www.m-w.com throws up, the one I really like is 'to pass slowly'. Yes, that is a nice meaning. And when you say to pass slowly, it means so many things isn't it?

Linger on....beautiful thoughts
Linger on... nostalgia
Linger on... playful memories
Linger on... old clothes that still fit (especially a size 24 when now you wear a 28)
Linger on...aspirations
Linger on...dreams
Linger on...the touch of a loved one
Linger on...the taste of good food (like that time when the 'sizzling brownie' at a non descript place was so awesome or the fish fry at a dear friend's wedding or the Thai curry and the kiwi fruit mousse...oooh drooooool!!!)
Linger on... the sound of crazy happy laughter
Linger on...the feel of rain on skin when the body is afloat - oh swimmin' in the rain is such pleasure
Linger on...the palpitation of the heart at the sound of the voice you so want to hear
Linger on...the tug of a smile at the corner of your lips when your loved one whispers sweet nothings
Linger on... the taste of tears in your mouth when the lights come on in the crucible of suspended disbelief and hopes and nudges you back into reality
Linger on...the smell of sweet perfume on her body
Linger on...the familar passages of a well thumbed book
Linger on...the lifting of the heart at the sound of the much loved band
Linger on... hope oh hope!

Oh yes...there are so many 'linger on's. I could go on.

I only wish I could have my good moods to linger on.

I only wish I could have positivity to linger on.

I wish love would linger on.

Sigh!

PS - this post is courtesy 'Linger' by the Cranberries. It's the song on radio that triggered the lingering idea.

PPS - S.O.S.Irf.Where art thou?

When superheroes cry!

2007-05-12T00:23:00.000+05:30

It's late so I won't write much. I just saw Spiderman 3. It's fun. I loved the special effects. I won't intellectualise whether Spidey should cry, or he should be depicted as weak and so human. Yes, I did feel miserable that he was being bashed up and almost got killed by his enemies/ detractors. Thank God for the 'good triumphs over evil' dependable and unassailable ending. You know even as you wince and cringe at the way he's being treated as oh so 'bash'able, that he will triumph. That keeps you going somehow and in this version, it is this very thought that allows the mind to placate itself when Spidey is being slashed and throttled and thrown around.

I liked the special effects of the Sandman - it's astounding - and everytime one thinks it can't get better vis-a-vis effects in Hollywood, they do a surprise and breathtaking SFX number on you.

But even in a comic book picturisation of a superhero, even though I knew the happy end so to speak, I cried. I cried when Spidey's best friend Harry sacrifices his life and dies. I cried because I cry easily. I cried because the thought of losing a friend especially to Death is akin to feeling like the loneliest person and the only person in the world. It's frightening.

And finally as Spidey ends the film, he says, 'life is about choices and it is up to each of us to do what is right' or something to that effect. So true.

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Aside:
One of my all time favorite and probably the most romantic line a guy ever told a woman in a movie is (my opinion of course, so take it with a pinch of salt) 'You make me want to be a better man' - Jack Nicholson to Helen Hunt. Like many mushy, silly, slightly illogical women, I've always wanted to hear that being said to me.

But, I think today, I discovered that this is exactly what I'd like to tell a friend. Because this is how I feel. Oh well! I'd like to end with a beautiful song by The Eagles, 'Love will keep us alive'. It's my kind of song.

Yeah yeah yeah! After Spidey and superheroes, some mush?

Oh well, if he can cry, so can I. :)

Freedom?

2007-05-01T19:33:00.000+05:30

May 1 is International Labour Day. Some call it 'May Day'.

For most of us, it's a 'holiday'. Like most of these observances, the actual significance is lost somewhere along the tedium of labouring over our daily lives.

We're all so 'busy'.
So busy deciding what to do and what not to do of and with our lives.
So busy deciding what the future is going to be, even though no one's ever seen it.
So busy thinking and not feeling.
So busy forgetting even as we strive to make memories.
So busy just being busy.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

I've been trying to get a link to this article on moral policing in Iran. It's in the TOI International section, but the e-paper is accessible only to registered members. So I'll just give you a brief glimpse of what is so chillingly true and horrifying:

The religious police were polite but insistent. The mannequin in the boutique window was too busty and her white plastic breasts might endanger the “security and dignity of young men”. The shop’s owner chopped them off, sealed the two holes with masking tape, and draped the red, lowcut gown back over her now acceptably flat chest.

There's more where that came from, and you'd do well to read it. It's taken from the Sunday Times London, but my search hasn't yielded the said article. I'm not really sure, how to react. Should I be outraged, aggrieved, dismissive, cynical and skeptical, or completely unaffected?

I know this article affected me. I know that this article made me think and value my freedom. A freedom that I take so much for granted. I know that I'm reacting like this, because it's not just the women who're targetted but men too. I know that there are worse situations and people affected by much more than just this. But this affected me. Because food, clothing and shelter I thought are the very basic needs of a man and we've all evolved and fought and continue to fight for this. But then the deeper question here then becomes the social propriety, the dogmas and the paradigms that govern all of us and what are the chalk lines that we're supposed to walk on. I don't know really. It's a debate that rages on. It's a debate that will encompass not just the right to wear, but the right to be heard too. It's about the right and therefore freedom to choose to live a certain way.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

We celebrate May Day, a day of the working class people the world over. So who is the 'working class'? Aren't we all? After all we're so busy working aren't we? :) At everything and anything.

Queen's title of that foot tapping number seems appropriate really to end this post here - 'I want to break free'.Think about the lyrics and it could seem true of anything that you love really, not just a person.

So are we all really free?

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

The above paragraphs may seem disjointed, yet like the line above, it in some ways also connects. Perhaps? :)

Post Script:-
For those interested in how Labour Day came about, here are a couple of sites you could visit for more information -
May Day - The Labor Day
May Day (the ubiquitous wikipedia of course).

Oh, the pressure of maintaining a blog!

2007-05-01T18:40:00.000+05:30

There was a time early on, when I sneered at bloggers and thought, 'Jeez, why would anyone want to put up their personal diary on the Net for the world to see?' Hrmph! Tsk tsk! and more Hrmph! that followed were archetypical of a mindset and attitude that reeks of ignorance and plain old stubborness.

Today almost 2 years since that first exclamation, I've been writing regularly, so much so that the blog has actually replaced my own, papier diary. I've not dwelt on it and hence cannot say if I'm saddened, or ecstatic or anything at all really. Does it matter? I write, I express and I vent spleen. Yes, sometimes, because I know there are people out there reading my blog (which is a good thing, so please continue, it feels good and do leave your comments too), that it's not so private after all. In this medium, a simple 'Private Property. Trespassers will be prosecuted' won't work and it's not meant for the same anyway. This day and age is not of innocence but of voyeurs. It's not about self-abnegation, but self-gratification however crude and vulgar that may sound. (You know what I mean right when I use such high falutin' words? :) It's ok if you don't, who cares (shurgs!) )
And I too am prey and party to this voyeurism and the need to be gratified. We all need our 'fix'es, don't we?

There are times when I've felt this pressure of being clever and witty and writing poignant stuff, or stuff that makes one sit up and take notice. All to maintain this blog. All because one is worried about the audience however miniscule, that may come, read, never to return because of the self-flagellating content which can sometimes be a bit much to handle.

Anyway, the point is, there are moments nowadays, where one is somehow not necessarily at peace, but at a point, where one is left wondering - so matters that matter are being read or written about - what matters to me is being disucssed as I think it - what matters to me needs to matter only to me so why write about it anyway - why unleash sadness or 'a day in the life of' monologue at all?

Yes, am at a point and phase in life, where I question and I answer alone. You may think, ask or point to the unassailable fact that we come and go alone in this world of ours. True. But it's in this journey towards the inconctrovertible end that we like to amass followers, believers, friends, naysayers and enough baggage where we like to believe we're not alone. We like to pretend that life is immortal for all of us even when the end is certain. We're a strange species in the way we defy certainty, but I don't know if I'd like to be born any other, not animals, thank you, in my next life. Let's not get into ETs, etc, here shall we?

So yes, the pressure of maintaining this blog and my other blog too, does take its toll. Am I making a point here? No. Just that it's tough. Am I clever? No. Am I funny? No. Am I heart rendingly beautiful to read? No. Am I inspirational? No. Am I about to change the world with my writing? No. Am I trying to garner admiratiion, sympathy, brute honesty, encomiums, here? No.

But the writer in me wants all of the above and more. So? Yes, the pressure of maintaing a blog is tough.

Phew!

Playing favourites!

2007-04-20T22:12:00.000+05:30

Today is April 20th, 2007. Why am I stating this global, obvious fact here? Because today is supposed to be a 'very good day'. How do I mean? We Hindus, (am not being parochial here nor scathing, and pardon my ignorance, but maybe even people of other religions and beliefs do this) believe in the planets and the stars and their positions, etc.

A lot of Hindu households will sport a rectangular, card board with tearable dates affixed to this card board which will usually have the picture of a Hindu deity as the backdrop design. This calendar as it happens to be, will usually be hung in the kitchens of many homes, as it helps the women keep track of not just the day, date, month, year, but the auspicious dates, days, festivals, etc.

Similarly we also consult priests to find out which is a 'good day' or auspicious for new beginnings, marriage days, and a million other things that one would want to embark upon in life. In this context then, April 20th is a very good day. Isn't the big fat celebrity Indian wedding taking place today proof of the pudding?

Ok, so as things stand, I went to the temple today. I'm not a temple going person. And that's a simple matter of fact. I'm not apologetic or diffident about it. Am not an agnostic nor an atheist either, but I have my conversations with God at home and I do pray, even if I'm tired :). There was a time in life, many nostalgia ridden years ago, when I was angry with the Almighty. In my own immature widom, I blamed Him for everything that had gone wrong in my life. For all the people I loved, being taken away from me, my grandma for instance. The terrible episodes with father, bearing the burden of being me and the attendant trauma of coming of age and realizing that being an adult is not the anticipated, bated breath, jump-off-the-cliff excitement that one had envisaged when one was 10 or 12. I don't remember exactly when I made my peace with Him but I've been having my conversations with Him ever since.

So I went today to invoke his blessings on a phase of my life that I'm embarking upon. A venture that I have collaborated upon, and the first baby steps on the path to entrepreneurship. It was like 'launching' my venture with God as the brand ambassador :). No commercials, radio spots, hoardings, word of mouth, event, fliers and all the marketing blitzkrieg accompanying the birth of new ventures. Just a simple, 'please bless this God' that's it. Of course as has always been my habit, every time I go to the temple, I have to beseech Him to also 'bless Shalu and Reena and Bunty and.....' and reel off a list of names that are not just names but important pieces of the mosaic that is my life.

It's a lovely temple complex and ever since I moved to Bangalore more than 5 years ago, I've seen the evolution of the temple so to speak. From a non descript, dingy, ramshackle temple, today it is a well laid out, simple, organized, clean and fairly peaceful complex and abode of many Gods. Yes, many Gods. I don't know the names of half of them. So when there are so many Gods, how does one know that He or She or They (there are clusters of them too), are It? Like my ma went unerringly to the Elephant Headed (and my personal favourite God) one and handed over the flowers and coconut, etc., and whispered in the priest's ear the name of the company I was giving birth to and he did what we call, 'archana'. :) I stood. I prayed. I hoped. I didn't ask. I was pregnant with possibilities awaiting delivery.

I then ambled across to all the others and paid obeisance. Then as is customary, one is supposed to sit on the steps of the temple to supposedly wait for the fulfillment of one's prayers (?) or is it for allowing time for Him to queue it up? Not sure, but either way, it was when I sat on the bench for lack of steps, and saw the devotees there and the different doors they knocked on, of the cashew and fig adorned Krishna, or the silver embellished Venkateshwara or the gorgeously draped and bedecked Laxmi (or was it some other goddess? pardonnez moi dear Goddess, don't cast your wrath on me for mixed up identities), that I wondered, if all these other residents of the temple cast in stone and granite and looking at me dispassionately, would be upset, disappointed, angry, jealous, for me having gone to Lord Ganesha for my 'archana'? Would they think I was playing favourites? And so would they pay me back in the same coin and play favourites with me too? But that is not how He is supposed to be right? The all-seeing, all-knowing, the virtuous, Perfection Incarnate? No, He'd understand and forgive me.

After all can I not be forgiven for thinking that all of Them were actually One?
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Rewind<<<

Nostalgic venue: 10/12 years ago in the last century. A temple that was in the suburb where I grew up in. The temple that featured Anupam Kher and Rohini Hattangadi in that moving film, Saaransh, and that elicited so much excitement.

Nostalgic memory: Going regularly to pray. Sitting on the benches or the steps (yes it had steps) and spending time with myself. Time with the pigeons that'd crowd there. With the old ladies who'd come and gossip. With the young, who'd use the temple as their 'social networking' circuit. Giggle giggle, nudge nudge, wink wink, psssst! :). Whatever the reasons, all of us came for reasons of faith. We all needed to believe.

And I'd sit and watch and think and talk to myself and ask and wonder and cry and beseech and have my one-on-one with the Maker.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Forward>>>

Present day: I went to the temple today because it's a 'very good day'. April 20th, 2007. And as I sat and watched, I saw that the believers and beseechers came from a certain age-group. Elderly couples, women, middle-aged men and women, and very few young. And I wondered why. Is this the age of Supreme Confidence and Supreme Faith?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tangential Note:

Saw the last half hour of Graham Greene's 'The End of the Affair' with Ralph Fiennes and Julianne Moore. Haven't read the book, but knew about it, so guessed it was that and was vindicated when the film title appeared after a break. A beautiful line that struck me -
"It's easy to write about pain. What do you write about happiness?'

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

No more notes today. Ende.

That crazy restless feeling!

2007-04-11T13:52:00.000+05:30

I haven't written anything worthwhile for a while now. By that statement one would assume that everything else that has been previously written here is worthwhile and how presumptous is that :).

Anyway, it seems that I'm going through a phase where everything is in limbo. Life, my life, it seems,is either at the point of taking off on various fronts or not at all. It's like you want something so much and so bad that you can taste it, and then you have to contend with the ruckus in your head and heart created by the million different reasons (none of them palatable) for why something should just not be happening. One actually looks for familiar signs and patterns that make you almost want to scream at their almost implacable inevitablity of doom.

You begin to question why, how, shake your head and get rid of the naysayers in your head, you want to believe, then you say, 'but this can't happen to me, as I don't deserve it' and almost will it to not happen and then you're in that whirlpool of doubts that drain you of all positive energy.

I do wish at such times that I could predict the future. Or at least stop the incessant and sometimes excruciatingly painful questions that go hammer and tongs at you. Even if one shakes the head and says 'I don't know the answers to all questions and it's not important to know either', they keep coming back.

I'm assailed by that familiar feeling of doom. Of course there are some bloggers who I read intermittently and who cock a snook at all those who say 'sigh!' and apparently go 'how lonely I am' and go 'sob sob, crib crib' and it's hilarious to read it too. That is one end of the spectrum, and at the other end, you wonder why is no one sometimes left alone? Why does one have to comment on everything, everyone, how they feel or what they feel and be insensitive? Sure it's good to laugh at oneself and never take oneself seriously, but hey, there are some who are genuinely the grave, serious kind of folk who are hyper sensitive and who are lonely and all that, so just let them express what they want and let them be. So am I arguing a case for myself? Grin! grin! Not really. Thankfully no one really does visit my blog here so I'm basking in the comfort of anonymity. Yes!!

Anyway that was a bit of a digression which makes me feel better as the focus was away from what I'm feeling, which is, restless, weary, afraid and hopeful all at the same time. For various reasons.

Please Mister God, let good things happen to me. I'm really really really tired of praying :)

Will you give me a sign?

Counting Sheep!

2007-04-08T00:24:00.000+05:30

Just one of those days, where sleep is elusive.

Just one of those days, where there are a million things going on inside the head.

Just one of those days where even writing might not prove to be so therapeutic.

Just one of those days where I actually opted for cold coffee without the ice cream and chocolate. (Sometimes even I surprise myself).

Just one of those days where a subliminal idea acutally got translated into an impulsive action.

Just one of those days where...

Nothing. Nothing at all.

Aliens!

2007-04-06T11:36:00.000+05:30

Someone wrote a book, 'Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus'. He was right. Men are truly the 'alien' sex.

If anyone, anyone at all can decipher men for me, I'd be glad to reward them with a holiday or something that I can barely afford.

They say women are difficult, complicated, emotional, layered, say no when they mean yes and so on and so forth. Has anyone stopped by a man and tried to make sense of what they say, feel and think recently?

Try it. And if you solve the puzzle you'd be crowned the 'king of alienation' (alien+nation, and that'd be quite something, the undisputed king of a complete nation, wow!).

Anyway, my Friday started so well, this Good Friday. Felt good. Generally. And then guess was responsible for turning an innocent conversation into just a terrible feeling of being alienated. The day's just begun and I'm not sure how it's going to turn out to be. Well, my morning has been ruined. Have to thank myself for it. But...

Who said life and men are fair?

Cacophony!

2007-04-01T22:09:00.000+05:30

'We're born as many different people'
Jane Fonda commenting on 'Inside the Actors' Studio' hosted by James Lipton

Turn that statement over in the head and you realize that what she says is so true. Instinctive reaction to the statement is the obvious. Of course you are different from I who is different from you and so on. Pause.

I remember this line - But Im a million different people from one day to the next
Bittersweet Symphony by Verve

Why do we forget this? And if we ourselves forget that we're different people all the time, how do we expect others to remember?

So today I'm a seductress. Next moment I'm a tantrum throwing child. And the next a dear friend commiserating or encouraging or supporting. A hateful daughter, a nagging wife, unfulfilled and bitter sister are some of the other characters that we essay. So are these really the roles we play or are they the different people that the above are talking about? Is it the same wine in different bottles?

But strangely we have an image of ourselves that is so defined isn't it? And we define others too in this water-tight compartmentalised way. As soon as the person rocks the definition so to speak, something comes crashing down. We kid ourselves and others when we say we understand the need for 'space', we 'accept', we 'cut a lot of slack, we 'give a long rope', and so on and so forth. We don't. Each of us is rigid and inflexible. We are different people, yet we want to believe that we're this single, defined, sacred unit that is 'I'. We want it, think it and will it just so.

Because it's actually 'my way or the highway'. And to think we're the evolved species. We write books about understanding the human psyche, about evolution, about a gazillion permutations of why relationships are the way they are, why men and women are the way they are, and we discuss ad nauseam about how things are subjective, the rationale, the this and the that. We make films and we write music and we express ourselves in a million different ways. So what are we all trying to say? That hey, I'm the same as you are, but am different? I'm a million different people, but I am one?

Or are we just saying 'this is who I am'. We're all trying to carve out a place under the blazing bountiful and unimpeachable sun and we're so hoping that that place is unique and will be a legacy and we'll be remembered for who we are. Just as we are.

We're unique. Yet similar. But amidst the cacophony, of theories, the search for identity, the search for something, however you define it, (we're all seekers you will admit), each and every one of us wants to be heard. In their own unique voice. Without judgement.

Tonight, I'll sleep with the lyrics of the following songs for company:
'Innocent Man' - Billy Joel
'Iris' - Goo Goo Dolls
'A Hazy Shade of Winter' - Simon & Garfunkel
'Flowers Never Bend With The Rainfall' - S & G again

And hold Kahlil Gibran's words, "It is when you give of yourself that you truly give" close to my soul and hope that I never ever forget it.

Sometimes in the cacophony, we're trying so hard to be heard that we forget to listen.
To our hearts.
And souls.

Just listen to yourself today. What can you hear?

Disturbed!

2007-03-27T23:18:00.000+05:30

... !

Something, Everything, Anything & Nothing

2007-03-27T10:37:00.000+05:30

I'm given to mood swings. It used to be incorrigible when I was a collegian, and in my career early on, am sure people hated me. Though the number of friends I have from each of the places I worked in belies the fact, but nevertheless, I know that I can be quite a boor and must've been quite intolerable. I would've hated myself if I had to deal with me when I was in one of those moods.

Of course there are reasons for the mood swings, and today at this stage in life, I would go far as to say, am fairly even-keeled. Fairly being the operative word. And then there are days when everything goes off in a blur. The present is nowhere in sight, the future always seems bleak and the past, oh the past is so clear. :) it is this past that has a stranglehold on my soul. Of course now I'm beginning to see it for what it is, without being biased or emotional about it. But because it is such an integral part of my DNA I can't do away with it completely and be apathetic about it.

But off late, life has been swinging a bit wildly for my own liking. I don't mind living on the edge, but not on the edge of a branch of a tree that seems to be holding on for dear life before breaking off and hurtling me towards a miserable end. Off late, the personal and professional have been worrisome. Various reasons, which are logical and true can be stated for the reason of the turmoil. But reasons inexplicable are the ones that run through the heart and soul. That is something that I need to weed out.

I wonder sometimes when people mention that 'xyz' was the turning point in their life. A film, a person, a moment, a piece of music, a book, something, anything. What I find intriguing is how do they know it, that 'this' is the moment that changed their life. Or set them on a path from which there was no turning back? We've all read inspirational, motivational, courageous stories of people overcoming. We marvel at their grit and determination. And wonder 'how did he/she do it?' The imagery of the pain, the courage, the faith, the perserverance envelope us and we get momentarily inspired to say, 'wow!I'm going to do it too. I'm going to pursue my dreams'. And then life happens and we get into the rut of everyday living. But then for some of us, these stories transcend the ordinary and go on to become life-altering.

I wish I could feel so much or get inspired by someone or something so much that I start dreaming in a determined fashion. It's never happened to me. Maybe it will. But hopefully I won't wait for that moment to catalyse my plans towards fruition of my dreams. Hopefully I will find it in me to believe in myself and take the plunge. I'm a good swimmer. I'm sure I won't sink.

But then, fear has always been the key.

Tick tock tick tock...

2007-03-21T22:14:00.000+05:30

...day begins and the clock strikes and the thoughts trickle in.

Outside: It's a bright bright sunshiney day!
Inside: "Gawd! Have to go? Yup! Gotta go and show you're working hard and committed! Hrmph! B#$%h!"

Drive to work. No work. No play. Time passes by - tick tock tick tock!

Outside: Busy day for some. Regular day for others. Cribbity shitty day for the rest.
Inside: "So routine. Sigh! So mundane. Sigh! How many mails to check? Sigh! When am I going to walk out of here forever? Sigh! Will just walk out at the end of the month and feel a sense of relief. Sigh!

Time drags on - tick tock tick tock tick tock!

Outside: Hot and dry. Horrid food. Tepid company.
Inside: "What's going to be my high protein for the day? Fish it is! Yeah! 3 more meals to go and then hit the gym. Am doing good and feeling good with the way body is shaping up. Mmm...nice. I've got to keep the focus and commitment and actually I can. It didn't seem too tough the last 8 weeks. So easy to do something you believe in. Aah! So this is what belief can do. Now for some of that magic recipe that can change my outlook, my attitude, my fears, my life. Yeah right!"

Time hangs heavy. Time drags on. Time never stops - tick tock tick tock tick tock...

Outside: Insane drivers, insane roads, insane pedestrians. Hot and bright.
Inside: "No gym today. Don't feel like it. Ok will go. No no no, won't go. Can still make it a 5-day week if I go tomorrow through to Sunday. Nah! I'm ok. My body's turned into a fat-burning machine. Woooo! But if I go, I will feel better. What is wrong with me anyway? I wish I could put my finger on it. I don't have abiding memories of all of them. Did I not feel enough? Don't know. Maybe it'll come to me. Enlightenment under the Bodhi tree...ta raaaa!"

Drive drive and drive. Gears 3, 4, 5. Neutral. 5, 4, 3, 2, even 1. Tick tock tick tock...doesn't cease.

Outside: Fairly decent traffic. Motorable roads. Insane drivers. Insane pedestrians and hateful signals. Am home.
Inside:"Oops...forgot the bloody fines that I've got to pay. Ok..when you gotta go, you gotta go...so I'll go. Where, this one or that? Ok the one near the fly over. It's easier to get to. Just keep your cool miss. No point in losing it over money that is so transient anyways. Right...will go to R T Nagar traffic police station."

Brief description I: Before explosion
Park the car 2 cars away. Enter. One side of the partition, a middle-aged cop with a walkie-talkie, looking bored and completely jobless. This side has 3 men, 2 cops and one civilian (?), plain clothes cop (?), in a sparse white washed room, which has precisely one table, 2 chairs and perhaps some other furniture which I wasn't too keen to observe.

Dialogue and description and disjointed. In 3rd person, or no person.
It's 7.10 pm. Fines to pay. Aah! Sorry, but no one's there to collect fines. 10.30 am tomorrow morning. But it clearly states 8.00 am to 8.00 pm at any one of the following stations. Sorry can't help you. Is there any proof that said offence was commited? Pictures, video? Go to Public Utility building, M G Road. Cameras only in heav traffic areas. Can one see exactly this particular offence? Mmm...hmmm...er...yes. Sit madam. Come tomorrow madam. 10.30 am. But it clearly states in your letter here that...Oh never mind. If I go to Sadashiv Nagar police station you think they'd accept now? Haan Haan,...yes, go go. So where can I complain about this? No people madam. What to do? Is that my problem? Or do I have to bow down to the Almighty, because after all you are the God! Smirk smirk!

Inside: Tick tock tick tock tick tock.

Brief description II: Before explosion
Drive to the next police station in the same vicinity and listed in the notices. Park car. "Keep your cool. Pay up and be done with. Hate giving in, but need to be practical. Why me? Why not me? Oh chuck it. Just be done with and go home to warm, food." Same kind of sparse police station. One table, one man in plain clothes playing solitaire on the solitary computer. A couple of hangers on, another room, 3 people, perhaps cops and plain clothes, who cares.

In continuum - disjointed dialogue description. In 3rd person, no person.
Payment of fines? Just a second. Shout of a name. Enter pot-bellied young cop with that silly Western style cheap plastic stetson. Couldn't they get Wendell Rodricks to design their uniforms the way Goa police did? Hrmph hrmph! Letters? Bright computer. Peering at letter, enters some number. Nothing happens. I ask the same question about the evidence. You know Hindi? Cop sees. Cop takes down number. Cameras? Yes yes. Same query about where to complain...same answer. Life sometimes is like the inland letter. All templates, just got to fill in the blanks. Pause. See, if you want, go to...Look, I've come to pay. Just give me my receipt and I'll be gone and take action later on. Sorry madam, come tomorrow. New notice. Computer has no data. Could you tell me where to send in a complaint,..sir? Pause. Puzzled look. An email id, a web site, a phone no.? Pause mode. Immovable stance. Go to Utility Building, M G Road tomorrow. 2nd police station I've come to, should I visit all the police stations mentioned herein or is there something called conveience, just one day away from the 7 days' notice mentioned. Never mind that. Send your child or someone..no problem. Come tomorrow. What time sir? At exactly 5.05 pm sir? Walk out. Another cop in plain clothes explains. Walk out as he continues to speak.

Rush towards the car. Get inside. And scream!!!

Inside: Tick tock tick tock tick tock. Explode!

Epilogue:
Dear Isobel
I hope you're well and what you've done is right
Oh it's been such hellI wish you well and hope your safe tonight
It's been a long day coming and long will it last
When it's last day leaving, and I'm helping it pass
By loving you more

(From the song Isobel by Dido)

Sharp U-turn!

2007-03-20T21:10:00.000+05:30

I'm mad. Really really really boiling mad. Am enraged. It's the kind of furious which is mixed with equal parts helplessness. Where you know you don't have a choice but to give in because you can't beat the system. And what a system!

So here I was thinking of this super song called 'Wonderwall' sung by Oasis playing on the radio. It set me thinking about something and I was thinking of blogging about it and then thought maybe it'd be inappropriate and then the next song which also I really really like called 'Chasing Cars' by Snow Patrol set me thinking again. The lyrics are so dreamy, not the kind that you would expect this gen. of musicians to write or set to music. What intrigued me were the following lines:
If I lay here If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world? (and then a few stanzas later)

Let's waste time
Chasing cars around our heads

Intriguing because, imagine actually sitting around idling with a pina colada in a Goan chair on a sunlit porch with a book or maybe a gorgeous labrador or a German shepherd lolling besides you and you actually idle time by chasing cars around your head? What an absolutely refreshing and compelling idea?!

In fact imagine telling someone you really liked or maybe even came to love and cherish, 'Look jaan, let's just lie here...not do anything, just lie here. I don't want to do anything but lie here and probably stare at the patterns in the sky where the clouds look like little smileys and I want to forget the world. So hey, I don't have money to splurge and take you to a hot nightspot or shop around or do something fancy, in fact I don't even have money for cutting chai, so all I want to do is lie here with you and forget the world. Would you lie here with me and waste some time?' I think it's haunting in its simplicity. I'd love to do that if someone asked me, but let's not waste time about why no one ever will.

After musing over matters sublime, I reach home to 2 inland letters. Did you know that inland letters are no longer blue in colour? Or are they? Maybe these were special as they'd come from the Transport Department and were a buff colour. Nice I must say. But that's where the sublime thoughts encountered a wonderwall and had to brake and take a sharp U. These were bloody notices for traffic violation. Date of violation and nature of offence and sum of monies to be paid were all neatly typed in the inland letter template and sent to me.

Date of violation: 12/03/07
----------------------------
Place : M G Road
----------------------------
Time: 6.20 pm
----------------------------------------------
Nature of offence: Holding mobile while driving
-----------------------------------------------
Amount : Rs.100/-

Is there some adage about good things coming in twos? Well I was certainly the blessed one. The cops were being generous and so I had committed not one but 2 offences.

Date of violation: 12/03/07
--------------------------------
Place : M G Road
-------------------------------
Time: 6.20 pm
--------------------------------------
Nature of offence: Rash driving
---------------------------------
Amount : Rs.300/-

(Mister God, if you really love me, right now all I ask of you is to give me some patience. Not some but loads of it. Truck loads of it. I was praying because by such time I was ready to explode and that's not a very pretty sound or sight.)

My life being what it is, I know which route I travel by, where I go, what time I go, and so on. My memory being what it is, I usually can remember sometimes almost to the minute where I was on a particular day and what I was wearing or doing. It's not genius. It's simple because my life is about routine. It follows the straight and narrow. Deviations are rare. It so happens that I did take a different route and thus crossed said road. At the time mentioned? Not possible. On the day mentioned, highly unlikely.

So how do I prove that I'm innocent? Firstly within 7 days of the issuance of said notice, I , the offender and violator of traffic etiquette and law, am supposed to pay the penalised sum and absolve myself of said transgression of traffic rules. In case I refuse to do so, within said timeframe, I would be liable to pay Rs.500/- with/ or 3 months of imprisonment. Of course if I contested this notice, I would end up in a civil court, plead not guilty, spend maybe 10 times the penalised amount, not to mention the time and energy wasted in an attempt that actually might not go in my favour. If I ask for evidence, they should ideally show me the captured footage by traffic cameras of said offence. But dare I ask? Dare I make a mockery of a system, me a woman driver to boot? No of course not. I'm just supposed to show up, feel apologetic when actually seething with resentment, anger and frustration, pay up and then go my merry way, a free woman. (What absolute rot and bull crap! I could throttle all the cops right now.)

In fact I've asked for my cell phone statement for that particular day to see if I had perhaps made a call at said hour on said day, which I know is impossible, because it's my cardinal rule never ever to make calls while driving and very very very rarely speak without my 'hands free'. Of course on the rare occasions I've been guilty of speaking on the phone, it's always been a quick, 'call you back, driving' . So when such a notice comes to me, of all the people and for driving rashly, me, rashly...yeah me and rashly....Jesus I could, I could...I could just pummel someone senseless. Bullshit! In fact it's making me sick to the stomach.

Guess after all this raving and ranting, I've just got to rev up my engine and pay up. Who said life is fair and fortune favours the right or brave? In case someone did, then they were on Prozac.

Just a hug!

2007-03-18T22:27:00.000+05:30

Honestly, I didn't think I was going to write anything today. Just wanted to take a break from writing for a bit. Yes, I have moments of complete disillusionment with self and of course the world at large. How can I forget the world baba, it's the big bad world which is the reason my life is the way it is and see how messed up I am, boo hoo, and all that jazz. Thank God the world is large enough to accommodate the rants and raves of constantly cribbity souls like yours truly and not have a moue of resistance. Phew!

Yes, yes, I know I'm all those adjectives that you'd like to throw at me and yes I'm also self-centred and just luuuuuuuurv to play grand-standing. There! I take a bow. This is my space though, just a gentle reminder.

Well, so what made me write today? Well, today's been one of those 'total couch potato' Sundays. After an extremely restless night, bitten by my friends Amos & Co., also colloquially called 'saale macchhar' or the ubiquitous mosquitoes, the night was simmering, nope, not with some undercurrent of passion and drama and sex and love et al, just plain hot and no speed of the fan could quell the ensuing suffocation. So of course one tosses and turns and gets up, goes for a drink of water, sits up, thinks, yawns, changes positions, lies down on the floor cushions, uses the blanket, tosses the blanket aside, feels the irritation with the pyjamas and the room and still tosses and turns and finally does manage to get more than a shut eye and no, not at the crack of dawn as one would naturally assume as the logical corollary to the description.

So of course I got up after a restless night and decided that today was going to be a day of rest. No newspapers, no books, no taxing of the mind, just a completely chilled out Sunday, minus the beer. So that is what I did. Watched TV. Lots of it. Many hours that could have actually been more productive. But I just sat or lay down and watched.

Last night,(yes, the 'couch potato Sunday' started last night really), when I watched a very engrossing movie called 'A Good Woman', I thought I'd review it here, but am not good with reviews. As usual I bumped into the movie and hence didn't see it from the beginning. But as soon as I saw Helen Hunt's fantastic profile, and then the plainly ugly Scarlett Johansson, I snuggled into my rocking chair or my chaise longue, to see the film. And the setting, the language, period, the storyline, all had me completely engrossed. When my ears encountered the dialogues, I knew they had to be written by an Englishman. There is something about the stiff upper lip when it comes to limning the screenplay with dialogues that are a fine balance between eulogy, philosophy, common sense and poker faced humour. Anyway, it so happens that I did an IMDB on the movie and found out that it was an adaptation of a play by Oscar Wilde called 'Lady Windermere's Fan'. No wonder the dialogues and the story were so engaging! Who can forget 'The Importance of Being Earnest', or the 'Canterville Ghost'. Oscar Wilde has a wonderful body of work and you can glean some of it from this wonderful site that I've googled - http://www.online-literature.com/wilde/ - I must return to Oscar Wilde and his literature in the very near future. Definitely a master story-teller and an astute observer of human frailties and hypocrisies prevalent in English society then, and no surprises, prevalent everywhere in society today. I have to, simply have to unleash some of the gems in the movie, which of course you can regale yourself with, by going here - http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0379306/quotes - so here goes:

"Marital bliss is a terrible burden to place on two people, Tuppy. Sometimes a third person is needed to lighten the load. "

"Undying love is like the ghost in your villa. Everybody talks about it, but try and find one person who has seen it. "

One of my favourites - "Every man is born truthful and every man dies a liar".

There's more where this came from. But better still, just see the movie. See it not just for the dialogues, but see it also for Helen Hunt. I've never found her beautiful. Beautiful in the conventional, 'oh she's breathtaking, she's gorgeous, she's lovely' sense. But she's one actress who seems such a natural at being an earnestly honest woman. So this character may not sit very well on her shoulders, but see her profile, see her carriage, see her conviction. She's lovely. I absolutely love her nose and that profile is to die or kill for. As for the young Ms.Johansson, that America gushes over, over her looks, her acting ability and of course her body, all I have to say is, guys, who're you kidding?

So anyway, like I was mentioning that this Sunday the TV watching continued. Be it to see the not-so-shocking news of India's defeat against Bangladesh, or The Amazing Race or 'shopping in Bali', I was lapping it up. I watched the CSI series which I absolutely love, some more of the Amazing Race and surfed, surfed and surfed some more. Then in the evening, again caught a glimpse of a face that I'd like to get up to every morning, even if it's lined, furrowed, sun spotted - Robert Redford. Now that's a man I'd definitely wait for an Indecent Proposal from. Oh yeah! Naysayers be damned! So I caught his angular, lined face, looking at this lovely woman and telling her, 'You want to change the world, change mine!' Why oh why don't real men say those things in real life to real women? Aaaaarrrrgh! Yes, yes, I know they're the movies and that's what they're supposed to do - transport you into a world that is so reel. So I didn't get to see the whole movie, saw it in bits and parts and saw parts that made me go all mushy. And then that scene where RR is going back to America from Cuba and bidding adieu to the love of his life? Well, I just wonder how they do it. Say it with such equanimity, with such controlled emotions, just a clench of the jaw, a clouding of the eye and it's 'bye'. Just like that.

Is moving on so simple really? Of course technically it's about putting one foot in front of the other and literally walking away, but figuratively, can one just turn around and let it all slide into a 'past' that is best left where it is, in the past? I can't relate to that kind of almost clinical estrangement. After all we're people and we feel. We feel the touch, taste, smell, sight and sound. We need to. We can pretend to be stoic and restrained and in control. But then when do we express what we really feel? Of course I'm relating all this to my experiences and my behaviour and my reactions. So I'm biased, forgive me. I scream and shout and yell and...well...yeah...and whatever. (I have a tee-shirt that I helped design for an online internal magazine that I was actively involved in, in my previous place of work, and it had a line, 'I xpress, therefore I am').

So there's this show called Koffee with Karan. I watch it avidly. And his guests today were the inimitable Tabu and Mira Nair. She'd just directed Tabu in the much-acclaimed book adaptation of 'The Namesake' by Jhumpa Lahiri. I've not read the book, though I've read her short stories in 'The Interpreter of Maladies'. Going by the comments of Johar, Tabu is supposed to be superlative in the film and hinting at an Oscar nomination, etc. So through all the cheek-bussing and 'dahlings' and giggles that I love, Mira Nair said something so mundane and yet it struck me because it's such an everyday notion we never really look it in the eye and live it. She said how important it is to just love and cherish and express, because life is short and no one knows what tomorrow promises. It promises to come (no double entendre there), but not necessarily clothed the way you'd prefer it. We know this, we understand it, we give lip service to this statement, we sneer at it, we do everything I think, but live it.

I know cynics and skeptics will go 'smirk smirk' if they read this, which thankfully they don't and no one does (yes ghost I know you're lurking around but you're just a recent and probably a short-term entry, till the ghost-busters get you), and it's okay. Time and again we read self-help books and 'Conversations with God' and a gazillion 'feel good' sometimes 'soul searching' words, but we never ever really go, 'from today, I'm going to be nice to mom and tell her I love her' or any such thing. Like movies our lives too are time-bound. But unlike movies which can get remade we can't relive our lives when our time's up. I'm not preaching and of course no one will go, 'from this moment, today, tomorrow, I will tell my father, brother, uncle, blah blah blah that I appreciate them, respect them, love them, etc. etc. etc.' Sure that's fine. We're this uber cool generation that believes in expressing. Be it angst, sexuality, greed, desire, ambition, big bucks and a whole gamut of adjectives that I can't even think of. We're an 'in your face' Gen Y (or is it Gen Z?). All I know is, I don't do it. I know I love to express, but when it comes to just telling ma she's the anchor of my life, I have withdrawal symptoms. Just a simple affirmation of love is so bloody difficult. Damn! I need to wake up and smell the muesli.

It seems that love does make the world go round. Even if money rears its ugly head and goes 'Not a chance honey'.

Let's give everyone we love a hug shall we?

(And thereby hangs a really really really long post. I need a break and of course a hug).

I wish...

2007-03-17T15:38:00.000+05:30

...for a lot of things. But then wishes aren't horses. In fact wishes aren't even that little eyelash that you so faithfully blow out to 'wishland' everytime someone plucks it from your cheek or nose and places it on the back of your palm.

It's just a gloomy, dull Saturday. Yet another in a long line of 'me-too' Saturdays that have been the leitmotif of my life for long now.

Ho hum!

(PS - I hope those men in blue don't mess it up and lose to Bangladesh. That'd be the perfect ending for a gloomy dull Saturday now wouldn't it? And with the men in blue, anything is possible, well, almost anything.)

I wanna be a rockstar!

2007-03-16T23:27:00.000+05:30

It's not hummable at all. But then most music today is not meant to be. It's really about grind and grunt and 'let it all hang out' in more ways than one.

But hear Nickleback's Rockstar - it's a cool number, actually something that one can listen to, understand, smile and say, 'cool, dude!' Very nice number. It's a tongue-in-cheek look at how rockstars live, how we (a lot of us, not all of us) aspire for that kind of lifestyle and how money and fame have a seedy underbelly.

For instance, here's a sample of the lyrics:
I'm gonna trade this life For fortune and fame
I'd even cut my hair And change my name'
Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars
Live in hilltop houses driving fifteen cars
The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap
We'll all stay skinny cause we just won't eat

So far removed from 'boys lying on the rock, looking at what I got - D.E.L.I.C.I.O.U.S.' or some ugh!stuff in the name of lyrics that some lady called Fergie is dishing out.

Anyway, music is changing like never before and melody is being re-defined as we write. Everytime I think of a Beatles number or a 'Bohemian Rhapsody' or even Tracy Chapman or Dido, I somehow feel so fuddy duddy - the kind that'd be better off at the Natural History Museum. Techno is so in and house and lounge and oh I don't know the gazillion genres that are ruling the airwaves seem so far removed from what I like. Imagine listening to Jus T or Justin Timberlake as he's better known as, in the morning at 7.30 am (do cut some slack here for a bit of exaggeration , give or take 15 mins ok?) shrieking 'Sexy Back'. God! Save my poor old Soul.

I'll take succour in Hootie & the Blowfish singing Hold My Hand:
With a little love, and some tenderness
We'll walk upon the water
We'll rise above this mess
With a little peace, and some harmony
We'll take the world together
We'll take 'em by the hand

Hold my hand
Want you to hold my hand
Hold my hand
I'll take you to the promised land
Hold my hand
Maybe we can't change the world
butI wanna love you the best that, the best that I can, yeah

(Hey, World Space's Voyager is playing a new song from Nickleback's latest album and the song's called, 'If everyone cared' - how apt).

And so the ferris wheel of music continues to go round and round and round and round.

Music anyone?

Crossing the threshold of thy hallowed institution!

2007-03-15T22:17:00.000+05:30

Last weekend, I attended a free workshop. A workshop on ‘being an entrepreneur’. I’d received a forward email (wouldn’t it have been better if I’d said I’d been forwarded an email?) about this workshop, with the agenda, the venue, the time and registration details.
It seemed an opportune moment to attend such a workshop.

Opportune because for long now, one has contemplated being self-employed or starting a venture of one’s own. In fact, today, by an amazing co-incidence I read the post of a fellow blogger called theghostoftomjoad (I don't know why I'm driving traffic to his blog, but at this point, I'd like to remind myself with a very deep question 'what traffic?') Why co-incidence and why am I mentioning this here? Un moment s’il vous plait.

My post on the Pursuit of Happyness attracted a comment. That was amazing, like the 12th wonder of the world. So naturally, I checked out the comment and the commentator and happened to skim through his post where he’s mentioning about being self-employed and trying to be a film maker and of course his blog title intrigued me. It happens to be the title of a Bruce Springsteen song for those not in the know like yours truly, but, ‘Google Hai Na’. So while I was skimming through this, where he talks about how Sundays don’t really mean much to him being self-employed and so on, (I’ll let you read it for yourself , even though ‘you’ may never read this to begin with, but never mind), it struck a chord.

I’m going through intense turmoil personally as I’m grappling with the questions mentioned in Para 2 above. It’s a soul-searching, searching for ID and much more, phase of life that I don’t know I can handle really. At my age, it seems almost impudent and brash, like cocking a snook.

So when this workshop was announced, I registered for it. I awaited the Saturday. Impatiently. Saturday dawned. The hour struck. And I opened the door to the classroom. K-21. I encountered young, curious, eager, anxious faces. Around a semi-circular seating area. With a grey-haired professor already taking class.

After 4-hrs that day I graduated from class. Class K-21, IIM-Bangalore, 2007.

It felt good.

The Search for Id!

2007-03-15T22:08:00.000+05:30

I envy all those people who manage to see the ‘positive’ in every situation, every context and who can ‘laugh at themselves’. I envy all those people who can make the tears run down your legs instead of down your eyes when they see you going boo hoo hoo over something that may be really a ‘mountain out of a molehill’ situation. Because they’re the positive, life brimming, happy, meaningful, smart, ‘moving forward’, forward thinking, sunshiney, smiling, ‘swallow their tears but see the bright side’ kind of people. Everyone likes them, everyone wants to be around them, everyone wants to be them.

And then there’s the other side. It’s everything that the ‘positive’ is not obviously. It’s called being ‘negative’ and it has many connotations, many facets, many attitudes.

So as I was sitting in darkness literally, because a modern 21st century city in the India Inc. story has power failures everyday and it’s so de rigueur that no one bats an eyelid just blinks rapidly to get adjusted, I had an elucidating question.

Honestly, for those enlightened and pontificating and mature individuals, this would be an inane and honestly stupid question. But to me in that moment of darkness it seemed to be the most important.

When you go to school, you’ve got a ‘roll number’. “Present miss or present sir” used to be shouted out loud on hearing your id. In college, it was dinned into our heads, ‘don’t forget to write your roll # clearly at the top right hand corner (or left hand as the case may be)’. At the time of distribution of papers après exams, the heart would begin a drumbeat enough to drown out the pygmy drum beat of Phantom folklore and then the familiar ‘roll number 23” would be heard and you’d get up shakily to pick up that important piece of papyrus. Then you get to be an adult. You stand in queues all your life – if you don’t know what I mean, just listen to the radio commercial for the Airtel sponsored KBC and you’ll know what I mean – a brilliantly produced commercial as it’s really a litany of the various queues we stand in all our lives – very well rendered by the VO (wonder who it is). Queues usually translate into numbers, usually consecutive.

Even the places you work in, you’re really a number. You have an ID card at the end of a lineyard and you have a silly photograph of yourself below which is your number first and then your name. Detour - talking of lineyards. For those who work in offices or have at some time in the past, especially the so-called urbane, progressive, glazed tiles, polished floors and fancy cubicles and the most uncomfortable chairs kind of ‘plush’ offices, I have a simple question to ask. It seems a night for elucidating questions or perhaps illuminating answers. Whatever the case may be, the question being – why do men usually and generally, wear those wretched ID cards, the ones that are not at the end of a lineyard but attached to a round button with a ‘free stretch’ kind of springy string, near their crotch? Firstly, we’re all numbers. Secondly, on the rare occasion when you are compelled to address one of those numbers who happens to be male and you don’t know whether he is consecutive, random, sequential, primary or complex or a square root or what have you, you have to perforce look down at his crotch to gauge and unravel this perplexing question. And then you’re confronted with the embarrassment of looking at a very sensitive part of the male anatomy and sometimes even stare for more than 20 seconds as the number is not visible (dammit!). Holy Crotch, I mean cross! Is it about attracting the ‘female gaze’?

To come back to the original ID path, after having taken a minor detour, sitting in the darkness, the question that wormed its way into my usually befuddled mind was, not ‘Who am I’? That was a basic question and of course all those who have found it have gone on to attain nirvana or become monks who sold their Ferraris and wrote about alchemy and alchemists and the secrets of success. No. I wasn’t about to embark on a multi-million dollar, self-fulfilling fantasy about ‘and then there was light’ moment of revelation.

My question was really simple – ‘What do I mean?’

And then I drew out the question like drawing out a smooth sabre from its sheath. I turned it over. Saw the glint. Squinted at it. ‘What do I mean?’ Not ‘what am I saying, can’t understand me’ mean. Not ‘what I intend to do’ mean. Just ‘what do I mean?’ To my universe. Of friends, colleagues, acquaintances, peers, neighbours, teachers, parents, siblings, the whole shebang. What do I mean to them? And thus to me?

Oh I know that this could be interpreted as 'Ohmygodshe'sinsane - she bases her whole life on what others think of her'. Hold on a second. Think about it. No I don't mean that at all.

However, if I can answer that one question, it would put the lid on all the incessant questions that are born time and again in the bottomless pit of my mind. I guess if we could all answer that question for ourselves, we’d all be brown belt masters at unraveling, understanding, sharing and being completely fulfilled human beings.

After all, we’d have figured the meaning of life.

Hah!

(I think I’m going to be sick after this post).

The Pursuit of Happyness

2007-03-11T17:44:00.000+05:30

Happyness with a 'y' not 'i'. Saw it. See it only for the 2 protagonists - Will Smith and Jaden Christopher Syre Smith - one a seasoned entertainer and the other a natural.

Just go to www.rottentomatoes.com for the umpteen reviews there, for the movie. Mixed bag just like my mixed emotions, when I came out of the movie hall after having sat through 2 hrs and 05 minutes of the saga of the pursuit of happyness.

Honestly, I found it a bit tedious. I agree with one of the reviewers at the website mentioned herein, that the director hasn't adopted a 'touch the emotional chord and make the suckers cry' route. It's not hard-hitting, it's not very emotional, it's got some message about pursuing your dream and how money makes the world go round baby, and all that. But you don't come away with any single moment etched in your memory which is that one celluloid moment that converts you from an agnostic to a believer.

So we all face problems in life. And have roadblocks and sharp corners every time we turn. It's just that when you watch it on celluloid, you are predictably waiting for that rah rah moment, the end of the pursuit, where you can expend your tears of joy and strike that 'It's so much like my life' or 'I identify with that moment, that dialogue, that scene completely' or 'Yes man, this is truly inspirational' mushy, heart-wrenching note. No siree, it doesn't leave you emotionally drained.

And somehow throughout the film poor Will Smith seems to be running. It's almost as if the movie is really about some 'Marathon Man' who's training for the NY Marathon. Running to catch the bus, running for and with that darned bone-density machine that he carries almost throughout the film, running from, running for, running to. Holy Trninity, gimme a break I say!

Anyway, won't get cheesy and write no more. See it like I said for the 2 protagonists - with this movie Will Smith has graduated from being a good looking entertainer to an actor and his son is adorable - and come away saying, hey not bad, could've been better.

Actually, dunno. You may luuuuuurv it.

Time for me to go in pursuit of my happy-ness.

The Venice Project

2007-03-11T17:32:00.000+05:30

Sounds like a Grisham or a Ludlum bestseller right? Visions of a Matt Damon like hunk racing across the streets of some exotic location dodging bullets races across your mind? A book that will shake the foundations of the belief that Mother Earth is in good hands. Ta rah!

Naah! The Venice Project is none of this at all. But my last statement there, that bit about shaking the foundations, yeah, that could be true with what The Venice Project is aiming to do. Technology and what we're doing with it, where we're going with it seems to have become my pet peeve. No it isn't really, but hell, I can't escape it. It's omnipresent. Just like you I'm bombarded with stuff that, as I mentioned earlier is scaring the hell out of me. It might be exciting stuff and exciting times for those who get turned on by the 'T' word, and so The Venice Project is one such umm...one such...er...project (for want of a better word).

Check out www.joost.com and read the story here - http://www.wired.com/news/wiredmag/0,72506-1.html?tw=wn_story_page_next1

When I first read it sometime last week, I was blown. It's beyond my limited powers of understanding. But what I understood, it seemed, well, yes, the next big thing after Google. And that's saying something ain't it?

Read it, ponder over it, and then I guess, we can all just go 'joost'ing.

The next word to enter the Oxford Dictionary will be joost. We'll send MMSes to each other asking 'did you joost today'? We'll have joost schedules and we'll have joost kiosks and joost will be part of our everyday consciousness.

Anyway, methinks I'll go sign-up for the beta testing of 'joost'. Guess it'd take joost a minute (sorry, couldn't help myself with that parting shot, however cheap).

Opinions are like...

2007-03-10T00:38:00.000+05:30

...arse-holes. You can't live without it.

We all have opinions about everything isn't it? People, behaviours, writing, blogging, work, bosses, clothes, movies, music, films, the entertainers, oh just about everything.

It's sometimes so tiring to read about opinions that the opinionated have about others. On anything and everything.

Anyway, c'est la vie. That's my opionion, and honestly who gives a flying f%$@ about opinions.

(Liar! liar! Your pant's on fire. You actually do. There is no such thing as constructive criticism. Criticism or opinion, call it by any name, if it's not in your favour, then you hate it, and shrug and say, 'who cares'. Reality? You care a bloody lot.)

Anyway, after a Cosmopolitan and a fish marinade in lemon and basil sauce and some fabulous grilled mushroom caps, and an ok movie, the weekend is so so welcome. And opinions can honestly go take a hike.

For all cricket fanatics, just a reminder... World Cup's on in 2 days.

...

2007-03-05T22:49:00.000+05:30

Am hurt. Very hurt. Maybe it's silly and nonsensical, but it hurts.

Sometimes it's ok to be hurt, angry and disappointed right? I don't know.

I just am. And I want to bawl my lungs out.

And it's nothing to do with bosses or friends or relatives. Something so unrelated, yet it has the power to hurt me. If I analyse it further it won't bode well for my fragile ego.

So I'll sulk, cry and perhaps sleep over it. Maybe it won't be so bad in the morning after all.

Damn! Damn! Damn!

Waiting for magic to happen!

2007-03-04T22:42:00.000+05:30

I know I am waiting. Have been now for countless years really. I can't define it. I don't know if it's to do with love, or success or fame or work. Actually, success, fame, work would all be linked somehow. No, that's debatable. Fame needn't be linked to what you do. It could be linked to who you're linked to.

Bottom line? I'm waiting for my Angel in Disguise to conjure up some breathtaking, life altering magic. And yes, a lot of it for me is really to do with love. To find, to give, to get. Very simple really. But so hard to find.

So I'm darned sure that no such romantic thing will ever happen to me. I've missed the bus, the boat, the airplane, the email, the SMS, the MMS or what have you long time ago.

But that doesn't mean I don't want it or am not hoping for it. Of course I am. At the same time I'm trying to alter my needs, my ambitions, my aspirations.

And so am still waiting for that magic to happen.

Aren't you?

You know you're old when...

2007-03-04T22:33:00.000+05:30

... the cute little tyke of 6/7 years calls you 'aunty'. You want to make eyes at her, tell her that she and her gaggle of sam-age terrors can call you by your name, but then you realize that that would be perceived a tad unnatural perhaps. And to their untrained but extremely perceptive and sharp mind, they would actually realize the subliminal wish of this 'aunty' to foolishly cling on to an age which is long past.

I'm terrified. Especially when I know that I won't have children of my own to 'look after me in my old age' or a devoted husband or live-in partner or brother or anyone. And then to think that in my loneliness I'm not alone, but every breath of mine is probably monitored by some 'server' (how aptly titled) somewhere. And then who knows, I could be picked like Jodie Foster was in the movie 'Flight Plan', another one that I saw last week which was so terrifyingly close to what can actually happen to any of us. To think I could be the harbinger of bad tidings or a pawn in a mindless game of terror and power or an innocent perpetrator of a crime so heinous that it would go down as the 'moment' that changed history. Oh well, put it like that, it seems I could actually become a historical figure eh? Hmmm...not so bad.

Historical is so much better than fossil.

P.S. - Jodie Foster is a beautiful looking woman. Intelligent, sensitive and breath takingly beautiful in all those many ways. You could believe her to be a scientist for sure. And a nurturer and care giver and all of that. She is so beautiful.

Is life all about 'convergence'?

2007-03-04T18:34:00.000+05:30

So we're up at the cafeteria having some really insipid food. Insipid because that's how all cafeteria food is ordained to be at any company in this the garden city. It could be called 'Rasganga' (river of juice literally speaking, or river of flavours for a slightly evolved interpretation), Grandmother's Recipes (they were obviously moth-eaten and full of bacteria, since they ended up giving my colleague food poisoning) or whatever, the fact is it 'sucks'!!! Big time!

But this is not about the food being served at cafeterias that feed the obscenely paid IT professionals in this garden city landscape. Maybe that's the reason for high attrition and low employee engagement. When the high point of one's working day is lunch or tea or a 'coffee break' and if the hapless, harrowed, highly-paid IT nerd living from one EMI to another is faced with the prospect of a 'tadka dal' where he can't smell the tadka, then I guess, it's the end of civilisation as we know it.

So coming back to the lunch. 3 women (including yours truly) and one man sitting in an uninteresting cafeteria, eating insipid, uninteresting lunch. The man is an IT geek turned management geek - meaning from coding he's decided he'll try and strategise for other geeks on what to code - while the 3 women are into data analysis, corporate communications and business development. Anyway, the conversation revolves around 'convergence'. And I'm scared.

It seems, that nothing is sacred, sacrosanct or private anymore. Don't ask me how, don't ask me what, all I know is Google probably knows more about the moles on my back, to the underwear I wear, to the number of times I shat, to the food I eat, to my dreams, to the last penny in my non-existing savings account, to the number of times I masturbate or not as the case may be, to every existing detail of a date I've had and more. It would basically know more about me, than me. It's scary, and it's causing me sleepless nights. It's worse than the fictional bestsellers about how the KGB or the CIA and Pentagon knew exactly everything about anyone. It's horrid.

And what's worse is that we seem to be wanting it, willing it that way. Our phones are no longer phones. They're music systems. Our music systems are no longer called that. They're called ipods or iphones through which you can also make calls. Ha! Or send an email. Or locate a house in a neighbourhood through some GPRS fancy system thanks to Google Earth or whatever technology crap that everyone is spouting. I mean why is a phone a PDA? a music system? diary? a phone book?a recorder? a camera? a map? a guide / instructor all converging into one complicated morass of impersonal, nasal, 'You have reached the voice mail of 92110094982100. It is away at the moment, but you can leave a message after this loud beep that is actually designed to blow your mind, but in the interest of the highly confidential message of it's bank account number VRF%#D4Ever000 , kindly record after this tone' robotic , computer thinggamajigs? I don't understand it. I don't want to understand it. I am scared.
In this impassioned but lonely world, where we're all trying, so desperately to create bonds, to connect, to feel as if we belong, we're managing to successfully accomplish the exact opposite aren't we?

I shamelessly admit to belong to ye olde school. It's with very great difficulty I decided to have a cell phone just about 3 years ago. I can manage to operate my ubiquitous Word and Excel and my desktop without much ado. I do like technology to an extent and the convenience of tele checking or blocking my airplane seats many days before I even board the flight is something out of MI 25. Yes, of course there are advantages and conveniences and pros and cons. But look at the way the world is going. Look at what all those geeks are doing to our world in the name of progress, evolution, mankind! Shudder shudder! Damned the pros and cons, the world is a morass of spaced out aliens. We don't need to look to Mars for alien life. It's right here.

I want my world to be simple, uncomplicated, and connected. Yes, not in the 128 kbps (or is it mbps) way, but connected. I want to feel someone's handshake when I say hello and not an icon with a :) saying 'Hi!' in a chat box. I don't really want to do everything including ordering my refrigerator to order food or control my room temperature before I come in, all in the name of convenience. I mean, hell, what's all this for?

I've never understood the need to be so 'wired' anyways. When they show the CXO types or the black suit executives in ads, or movies or television serials, why do they show them busy all the time? Why is everyone hell bent on telling anyone who is willing to listen or believe that it is important not to waste a minute, sorry nano second of your time in seeing the clouds out of your airplane window? Will the world really stop if we stand to stop and stare? And then in the name of simplifying matters, things are so complicated, that if you need to basically lodge a complaint about your credit card, it would take you well nigh 10 minutes to get through those nasal, robotic, pre-recorded 'Hiii! Welcome to Citibank' messages, click through some four numbers, remember some PIN, QPIN, IPIN, GodknowswhatPIN, and then wait inexplicably for an interminable amount of time, to hear 'sorry that was an invalid code' and go nuts by that time, what's the point? Why are we doing this to ourselves? If we're trying to simplify things and give ourselves time, harping all the time that there is no time, what are we supposed to be doing with all the free time? And where is this free time anyway? We're too busy deciphering the unlock key on our latest gizmo which is this iphone, no phone, sorry music system, oh forget it.

Anyway, the point is I hate it. I can't understand this need. I'm not sure where we're all headed. besides the grave of course. But while I ponder about this rapidly changing world, I'll take a break and converge at the blog for more blog bytes.

While you go figure too.

{proof...and other stories}

2007-03-04T17:32:00.000+05:30

I've been meaning to write about a movie called {Proof} that I saw sometime ago on TV.

Gwyneth Paltrow, Anthonly Hopkins and Jake Gyllenhaal (the actor who made being gay on horseback fashionable thanks to Brokeback Mountain). And since I'm going to write about a movie, perhaps, a few others thrown in for good measure too will help me get them all out of my system.

First off, I didn't see the movie from the beginning. But of course it didn't matter as I was hooked from the moment I saw Gwyneth Paltrow shrieking at her sister after her brilliant mathematician father's death who is played by the brilliant Anthony Hopkins. Anthony Hopkins never fails to please. He's measured, he's reigned in, even when he's behind bars as Hannibal, and of course I adore his perfect British accent.

So we have Gwyneth Paltrow the younger of the 2 daughters who has looked after her ailing father while he was battling with Alzheimer's or whichever disease, am not sure, and then of course he dies leaving behind a body of work that could prove to be quite priceless in the field of mathematics. The elder sister comes for the funeral, wants to take the younger one away with her to the Big Apple, New York of course, and the budding love story between the young mathematics research student Gyllenhaal and Ms.Paltrow is what this picture is about. Or is it? Not really. As the title suggests, it's about a {proof} written apparently by the later brilliant Professor, but Paltrow says it's actually she who's written this. So why should it be so compelling? It's just some mathematical mumbo jumbo for Chrissakes isn't it! Aaah, no! It's a proof on primary numbers and of course it is one that scientists and mathematicians have been trying to work out for years and if this one is proved to be correct, then it would create history and the world of mathematics would not really be the same. (Like we wouldn't have 1, 2, as we know it right? Ha ha!). So of course the 2 other protagonists of the film have doubts about the authenticity of the claim by the young, distraught and brilliant genius. And of course it's written by her, what do you think! And it's proved, that women can write proofs too. Poof!

Of course as the movie trudged along on a predictable but albeit very engaging path, I once again wondered what I had wondered sometime ago (and written somewhere in my archives on idiosyncrazies8.blogspot.com). Is it just us, is it genetics, is it geography, history, what? I mean why are there not too many women scientists? Why do we not have the scientific temperament as a species or sex or whatchamacallit?

Am sure not too many would be able to recall more than 10 women scientists in any field in the past 25 years or more. Is it that we're not encouraged to think differently, is that we're not born brilliant as prodigies, or is it that we come into the world with too much baggage? About being a woman, about our sexuality, about the basic essential role that we are supposed to play - homemaker, nurturer, care giver, mother and more - roles that from time immemorial have been dinned into our heads and shunned to an extent by 'burn the bra' shrieking feminists hoping of course to change that undeniable fact, by letting our udders loose. I'm not sure what the reason is, but women as scientists? Ummm....er...well...yeah sure, but...ok...why not!

Look, much to the umbrage of many of my female brethren who mayn't agree with what I have to say here and who're probably bristling with indignation, if I were to be honest, I'd say:
a) Men are far far wittier than women for sure - there are far more funny men you remember than funny women. Funny women are then branded as 'over smart' or 'Lucille Ball' which isn't saying much. Roseanne Barr or Ellen de Generes may be good, but they're one in many millions.
b) Men are better cooks - the predominantly female bastion, the kitchen, is also where men excel. The world's best restaurants are owned and cooked for by males (mostly). Check out the Michelin star rated restaurants and you'll find they're conceptualised by men, owned by men and cooked by men.
c) Men are better clothiers. Of course Chanel, Donna Karan, Stella McCartney nothwithstanding, the fashinistas have a soft spot for Armani, Gucci, Valentino, Klein and so on. When the male designers need to strut the stuff they design, they of course need anorexic, ugly, ready to fall off those ugly monstrosities called high-heels (also designed by a male, mostly Galliano or Prada, or whoever), females.
d) Men are better film-makers, and photographers, and poets and painters and yes, the list doth go on. Of course you will argue and I will argue with you, that this is a limited list and a very myopic view, and we have hundreds and thousands of wonderful artists in the village and craftswomen and the women are not really allowed in many countries to explore and flower and bloom, like in Iran. or in other countries, as they're just basically fighting for survival. But where there are women and children, there we have men too you know. So it's not that women are in isolation fighting for their place in the sun. But somehow women I think genetically don't have that bent of mind for figures and I mean numbers here, sheer numbers. Perhaps it's their own lack of self-belief in their abilities and strength. Strange, when you think, how powerful and strong they can be when being behind the scenes and egging and urging and crafting and plotting for their sons, husbands and brothers. Women are a mystery. Beautiful, everlasting, complex. Maybe that's why the {proof} caught my fancy. Because women are like mathematics.

Other stories that I liked:

Music & Lyrics - see it for the brilliantly funny Hugh Grant. I'm sure the screenplay and dialogues were written by an Englishman. Americans I don't think possess that kind of subtle humour that is so charmingly portrayed by this very good-looking Englishman. He's not a bumbling, 'and so..er...I...I...umm..' kind of person at all here. He speaks fluently, he struts his stuff superbly (and you should see his pelvic thrusts) and I'd give a 4.5 * for this movie. It makes you go 'cheeeeese' when you come out of the theatre. Feel-good, not mushily soppy, just a lovely romcom. Drew Barrymore is nice too, but sorry Charlie's Angel, Hugh here is Phew!!!

Nishabd - meaning wordless. Almost did a double bill last night. But there was a gap of 3 hrs, so had a shandy, some cheese toast and masala mushrooms, shared a few laughs with my ex-colleague now friend with whom incidentally I also saw M&L, and then settled down to see the one and only AB (Amitabh Bachchan) do his 'in love with an 18 year old when I'm 60' different kind of role. My recommendation? Watch it. Why? It's not wordless, nor mindless. It does kind of leave you feeling, 'so what's the big deal' at the end of the film, as it ends not in a very 'black & white' manner, but in a slightly grey area. It tries and tackles a very very very real and probable situation of a really elderly man falling for a enchanting, tease of a girl who is only 18. I only have one thing to say every time I come out watching Amitabh Bachchan in a powerful performance. Is there ever ever ever ever going to be anyone quite like him again in Hindi cinema? He's God! Of course Aamir and Kamal Hassan and quite a few others are very very very accomplished actors. But AB has it all doesn't he? The towering personality literally and figuratively, the fantastic baritone, the perfect accent, the education, the humility (whether cultivated, a facade or genuine, don't know, don't care), the superb true-life inspirational story, a culture of education what with his father the poet, yes, he has it all. I'd go for him hook, line and sinker any day, any time, any where, any season. Gimme AB any day (actually now, even his baby will do).

Coyote Ugly - this is a movie I'd been dying to see and again managed to see it not from the beginning. But enjoyed the slightly brazen, but heart-in-the-right-place kind of movie. I love the lead pair, I think some Perabo and some Garcia. Check them out on www.imdb.com . She has a smile to die for. The kind that would truly light up a dark room or mind and he has an earnestness to pledge 'forever' for. Good stuff. I enjoyed it. Watch it. If you're a man, you'd of course enjoy all the hip-swinging and some cool bartender moves, but also enjoy it for the movie it is, with the lovely song by LeAnn Rimes 'Can't Fight The Moonlight' making it worth the popcorn and time. It's the kind you could curl up with your girl friend and enjoy.

That's it from the film critic for today. Lots more coming up. Stay tuned!

Agony & Ecstasy!

2007-02-28T22:21:00.000+05:30

Have you ever had one of those inexplicably delightful days when you don't mind anything that would have you normally tearing your hair out and having a coronary?

Yesterday was one such day! It wasn't delightful if you know what I mean. Not as if I had won a million bucks in a lottery. Nor did I get a free ticket to Holland or some exotic locale where a handsome hunk was going to give me the best massage in the best spa and all expenses paid. Nah! Yes, well, I can think of only such boringly mundane things that could possibly excite someone. I am mundane and boring.

No it wasn't such an extraodinary day. But I know it made me feel very happy. And somehow it just made me feel that 'Yes, I should take the chance, risk it and I know I'd be happy'. And again, I'm not talking about telling a guy that you actually find him attractive, which I did, in the not too distant past, and realized later what a sucker I was to find him so, as he was probably laughing, sorry leering at the thought of how he'd managed to make a sucker out of me, this transparently naive, ugly fool, me. God! I shudder now at the thought of my pluck at writing to him, not realizing all the while that he knew, and was waiting to just get some adrenaline rush from hearing it or God knows what! He was nice or so I thought, but then again, I'm glad he didn't reciprocate, because I'd have been a poorer human being if I was associated with him. He was a jerk. Period! And if have to get into a detailed discussion about the strangeness of my association with him and how the attraction flowered (what ugly language ugh! guess he brings out the worst in me now), logic and reason would probably prove his innocence and niceness as a human being. But my instinct tells me he always knew and he played me along till it served some silly purpose. My instinct is usually never wrong about such matters.

Anyway let me not belabour that point too much. To come back to the extraordinariness of the day yesterday. Yes, it was extra - ordinary. That's what it was. Some seminar, some speakers, some networking, the gym, some cute guy, some great exercising, and all of it contributed to the 'feel good'.

Sometimes that's all it takes isn't it? Just a regular day without incident. That's what it takes for life too. Just a regular life without incident. And we could all actually be extra-ordinarily happy and contented. Ah, if only... but thereby hangs another tale! (is that the correct phraseology? oh never mind!)

The agony bit is that I realized after listening to one of the speakers about blogs, corporate blogs of course, that my blog SUCKS!!! B ig time. There I said it. Yes, my blog sucks!

Apparently, the most frequently googled is 'technology + sucks' and we have a gazillion irate human beings dissing about technology, technology corporations, technological people, and so on. So now you know. Ha ha. My blog sucks!

But seriously, it does and I have no compunction in admitting to that boringly blatant fact and no one will bat an eyelid. Why? Because it is so extra-ordinarily true and there my friend lies the ecstasy of the agonsing truth. (Phew! what was that!).

On a tangential note - I want to quit my job and become an entrepreneur! Nice term, I know, but what it translates into is - I want to be on my own. There is only one thing that's reigning me in. Guess what! Fear! That bloody 4-letter word that begins with 'F'.

On that agonising thought, that which if brought to fruition would bring me ecstatic delight, I shall rest my case. And return. To procrastinate.

Angst or Ads?

2007-02-24T22:46:00.000+05:30

I want to write about both, but I'm afraid if I wrote just about angst, it would meander into a meaningless nothing. Because I'd rave and rant about everything and you'd just go, 'so what is she so mad about? This is normal everyday living.'

Anyway, I need to vent my spleen, grind my jaw, grit my teeth, pummel someone or something, kick, pull, scream, in short, go ballistic! Where else can I take recourse but here? So let me get down to writing about this thing. Angst? Qu'est ce que c'est? To me, the word represents a lot of simmering anger. Just under the surface kinds. Where it's dying to get out, brooding, restless, intense. But my dear old friend, in a new avatar, the www.m-w.com, (check it out, it's really a great site for all those who're interested in phonetics and etymology), lists angst as a word of German/ Danish origin meaning apprehension, anxiety or insecurity.

Well I don't know about the above listed meaning, however I do identify with the feeling of excruciatingly intense disturbance, akin to rage, pure unadulterated RAGE! This could of course some day lead to a coronary or murder or both if I don't do something to manage it. Yes, I admit I have angst. Am certain most of the world at large would also nod their heads in agreement. So why do I have it or what is it against that I'm raging so?

If I start enumerating the reason, it'd be a never ending saga. Suffice to say that everyday mundane stuff that should never even cross one's mind let alone merit a post about it, causes the blood to rush to my extremities and I feel that I'd do very well as Xena the Warrior Princess, with a sabre in my hand, a short armour and flying mane. I do, very frequently find myself wanting to run over someone sometime, or just blow up a few cars, and basically resort to arson and rioting. What is the underlying reason for this unreasonable, blinding rage?

It's the traffic, the insensitivity of people, people's self-centredness, uncouth behaviour, the ingenuity of cheats, self-serving SOBs (sons of b*&#%@s) who are running amok in this city, in this country. I'd like to light a torch under their f^@&%*g arses and see them run for their life. I hate the b@#$&*ds! I hate them. Who's them? Just live in the city for a few days, deal with the louts on the streets, the insane drivers on the strips of tar (that's what roads are really) and you've got to find your road. Yes, I'd like to just... AAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

Now to come to something more pleasant. Ads. 2 recent ones that I've seen recently aired on television.
- Sony Bravia - for their LCD TV range. The commercial is nothing but sloping streets like the San Francisco streets, awash with floating balloons of all hues. Myriad colours, airy, soft, and very refereshing. No voice over, dialogues, actors, nothing. Just a soundtrack and the super at the end. Talks about the clarity of every single colour of the new Bravia LCD. Different and quite memorable honestly.

- Nike. The Indian urban milieu. Traffic jam (won't they ever leave me?). Vehicles askew. Group of young boys get up on the top of buses and trucks and the ensuing game of cricket captured by the fast paced camera is a treat. It's the age old adage of 'think global, act local'. It's lovely. Truly. And innovative. Trust Nike to come up with such an idea. Remember their football, played across the wall by 2 boys who're neighbours.? Superlative.

Right. On that note, let me see if I can dilute some of my angst among the covers of Maximum City.

PS - Just received an email from a bookstore and one of the books that I think might be an interesting read, 'Games Indians Play - Why we are the way we are' by V Raghunath.

Why are we a nation that is individually so smart and collectively so naive? Why do we mistake talk for action? Why is our self-worth massaged only if we have the ‘authority’ to break rules? Why are we among the world’s most corrupt? Why do we jump red lights? Why do we dump our garbage at the neighbour’s doorstep? . . . Can it be our climate, population density, poverty, colonial past or even genetic encoding? In a rare attempt to understand the Indianness of Indians—perhaps the most intelligent people in the world, but also, to a dispassionate eye, among the most baffling—V. Raghunathan uses the props of game theory and behavioural economics to provide an insight into this most difficult question: why are we the way we are? Raghunathan tackles the question by putting under the scanner our attitudes towards rationality and irrationality, egotism and selfishness, our penchant for antagonism and competition, and our aversion to collaboration and cooperation. Drawing examples from the way we behave in day-to-day situations—from our attitude towards a cheating vendor to our attitude in a joint venture; from our tearing off a page from a library book to the way we leave our public toilets—he shows how in the long run even the most self-serving of us—businessmen, politicians, bureaucrats, common people—stand to profit more if we were to adopt a little self-regulation, give fairness a little more credence and cooperate instead of cheat.

Very interesting synopsis, wouldn't you agree?

Thank God Tomorrow's a Sunday. Day of rest.

Be still my restless heart, rest easy I say!

When Blogs Weave A Story...

2007-02-22T22:08:00.000+05:30

... about the people who write them. What do I mean by that? I mean, depending on the type of blog of course, given that there is a blog born every 3 seconds (akin to men thinking of sex...that's not what I say, but what statistics reveal, and am sure the statistician was a male), blog posts begin the journey towards 'image creation' in the minds of a reader.

For instance, a dear friend of mine in Dubai who I think reads my posts every so often mentioned in his email to me (I still want to make that differentiation between mail and email, as mail will still mean by post and red post boxes and letters and stamps and envelopes with addresses, which sadly today is a lost form. Who writes letters any more? Do you? I used to for a while, and then the e-form slowly but surely made its insidious way into my life), that my blogs told him of what was happening in my life. That set me thinking. On what my blogs reveal about me and the image that people build of the writer.

I have a fellow blog writer with whom I correspond ocassionally, who wrote to me today, being concerned about me. She'd read my latest posts too and she'd been busy and what not.

Well, these 2 recent instances brought home the fact that we never ever stop being curious about people we haven't seen. The invisibility, the anonyomity, the language, the tone, the subject, are all building blocks of a 'perceived image'. It's fascinating isn't it? We can let our imagination run wild and start thinking of this living, breathing, thinking, feeling human as someone with a soft voice, or light hair, or a thick moustache and assign age and certain characteristics to him/her. All this purely on the basis of what goes out on the World Wide Web of blogs.

So it won't be too difficult to fall in love over a blog now would it? I've known people to fall prey to that emotion too. I'm not sure if it all pans out well in the end, but, imagine reading, trying to then fathom, create, correspond, fall in love, talk, fall in love some more, meet and then,....don't know. There could be multiple ends to the process above. But fascinating albeit won't you agree?

Human nature. It never ceases to surprise, it never ceases to amaze. The mind and heart are truly the deepest mysteries which ironically are always trying to unravel themselves.

Right now, just as an aside, my life is boring. I'm waiting for magic to happen. And I know it won't. Because it never does, for, I've been waiting endlessly for years.

But I so want to see a fairy go swish swish with her wand and the stars sprinkling the air, with soft music in the background, before my wish is granted.

Ok, guess it's time to stop dreaming and wishing and hoping. It's time to start living and for starters, I'm off to bed.

Sigh!

2007-02-17T23:20:00.000+05:30

Life and all that. Why can't it be simple for God's sake! I'm feeling so completely fed up it's not funny. Actually no, not fed up, like satiated, like up to the gills, like full up fed up. No. I'm just tired of thinking.

Sigh!

Fork in the road!

2007-02-16T03:10:00.000+05:30

How many times in your lives have you come across a fork in the road? Figuratively of course. And how many times have you chosen the path less travelled?

Tough to make a decision sometimes about 'this a way or that a way'. My weekend was spent pretty much thinking about it. I came to some kind of decision, uneasy in the mind. And then with the help of a colleague and friend put the whole situation in perspective and then it was so much easier to see the path ahead without the fork in the road.

Now once again, as the weekend approaches, am faced with some kind of turbulence of decisions. Hmmm...! It is so very frustrating these 'decisions'. Firstly, to make them. Once made, you want it to go in your favour. Then when it doesn't, to go back and weigh all those options all over again and chart out the other course of action. Aaaaarrrggghhh!

Anyway, let's see how it all pans out eh? I'm obviously unable to sleep over it.

Sometimes we are spoilt for choice aren't we? Too many forks tchh!

Decisions, decisions!

The Global Indian

2007-02-12T18:45:00.000+05:30

Do a Google on Top Indian Business News stories and if you're an Indian, it'd be heartening. Probably the best time to show off your conveniently buried, partiotic fervour and Indian leanings.

So our President's Vision 2020 seems to be in full swing if the news reports are anything to go by. Well-known family owned, trusted and globally respected business houses are literally and figuratively flying high.

What does it mean really, this show of economic bullishness on the global trade exchange?

That we're smart, hard working and result-oriented visionaries? Sure. We always were. Just turn the pages of history and a lot of those attributes will come shining through. It's another matter that somewhere donw that historical line, we lost our way to other empire building territorial badshahs.
That we're actually fed up of being mired in our own conservative mind-sets and we're finally doing the Houdini's act? That too I guess.
That it's just a cycle of economies? I'm not an economist but am sure there is a term for this hypnotic aspect of the rise and rise of a nation and it's not about the 'world being flat' theory.
That the burgeoning urban youth are urbane, ambitious and focused? Perhaps...because that is debatable as all socio-economic issues really are.
That we're already facing a host of socio-economic issues which were already prevalent, but today, are highlighted with green and red marker pens by our vigilante media and thus some good things do come out of it - the Jessica Lall case in point.
And so the list of achievements can be brandished like a newly acquired knighthood. We could all be dubbed 'Sir, the global Indian'. (Ironically, such a title also comes from those who once were our subjugators...sigh!)

But what does this really mean, the billion-dollar deals, the spirit of global trade and business leadership, the stock exchange surges and continued upward climb and well, basic prosperity?

The man on the street still doesn't have footpaths to walk on.
Potable water gets mixed with sewage water.
Basic education where teachers actually teach is a dream like putting an Indian on the moon (just announced by ISRO that it will happen in 2020 or 2030 depending on when they get the vehicle there first that will transport the moonwalker).
Women in villages are still the beasts of burden - walk miles for water, tend to children, work to earn and feed the family, fornicate to keep the 'man of the house' happy and get raped all in one lifetime. (Of course I'm generalising and of course this isn't true for so many millions et al, but it happens)
Kids still work in beedi factories and fireworks factories and have TB and god knows what other ailments
A city like Bangalore still doesn't have a decent airport
The much sought after engineer today will still say, 'Myself Eklavyaarasunambiarramesh blahblahblah from Digboi' and bridge conference calls geographies apart and try and decipher code
Our tigers are dying and there're not many who're crying about it

Should I go on? Of course not. I need to be optimistic and realistic. How can I be so dystopic and rave and rant instead of just celebrating the cause of everything that's right?

Sigh! Guess Utopia is around the corner. There...I can see Sir Global Indian with the flag pole in his hands accompanied by the loud applause of the world.

Clap clap clap!

Make-over?

2007-02-11T22:14:00.000+05:30

It's such a pleasure to be pampered and beautified. If you have about 4 hrs to spare on any given Sunday (that's a movie I have to watch - Al Pacino's talk to the guys in that movie is inspirational), then I'd suggest go get the works done. I did.

I got my hair cut differently and it's looking all soft and silky and makes me look yeeaaaars younger. My skin's feeling all pampered and soft, my feet are looking prim and not so ugly, my hands are looking nice too for a change. Wow! Imagine me writing all this on a public forum. But I'm feeling nice and yes, this weekend has been good to me. I was approaching it with trepidation, but it seems things will go my way for some time and whey they don't, I'll just have to be more persevering and determined. My mind's not made up about something important though, but let's see how goes it. Sometimes, and in my case almost always, it's best to let things take its own course. But lots of things are happening and I'm beginning to feel ambitious again. I feel like making plans and the only thing stopping me is my own expectations. Well, anyway, that's that.

One observation: why are all the guys and girls who work at beauty parlours so fashion-challenged? Wild gelled hair in spikes which have streaks of magenta or purple, with nose rings, eyebrow rings, tattoos, 55 pocket fatigues, belts that'd have looked good on Clint Eastwood and his Westerns, armlets, bracelets, anklets and well...you get the picture?

I've had my physical make-over. The mental one is a WIP (work in progress).

Chill out!

Welcome back traveller!

2007-02-10T22:44:00.000+05:30

It's good to hear from a friend who's been travelling for about 4 weeks now. Amith's always been a traveller. And he's a great friend.

Welcome back.

The LP of the mind!

2007-02-10T21:56:00.000+05:30

The whole day the mind has been playing LPs of various rotational speeds (ref LP at Wikipedia). Listening to the trash that radio dishes out in the name of music. And then occasionally you hear a familiar hummable, melody and there's this silly smile on the face. After all music is the bell that rings in the 'memory recess' isn't it? Time to let the mostly good times roll and of course if it's some mushy number then time to let the 'boo hoo hoo...haa haaahaa...swine...why....if only..." roll.

I remember my ma who is now well over 60 with shining, soft, white hair with tinges of dark hair hidden behind the gossamer curtain of white, telling me of the 'house of bamboo' and 'summer holiday' LPs that her uncle (my grand uncle) used to play in his 4 LP changer. This was in the early 1950s mind you. More than half a century ago. And my grand mom (bless her soul, was a wonderfully bright and enthusiastic woman with scuh amazing sense, God, how I wish you were here 'bada mummy' - 'bada' meaning big - miss you real bad and am sure you'd be proud of your grandkids if you were to see them lead 'successful' lives, except yours truly, LOL) would tell me about 'Irma La Douce' and 'can can' and I'm sure my eyes glazed over as the imagination of that world took over. I wanted to live in that era then. It seemed so romantic and innocent and earnest and gracious.

Then I grew up with the Beatles when Robin and Roland (I think that was his name), 2 Catlick (as Catholic or Chrisitian or Protestant or East Indians, anyone remotely visiting a Church would be called) boys living opposite my aunt's house in a suburb called Andheri (where she continues to live) would come and teach me the jive. It was a classic Arnold and the dog in the 'True Lies' kind of picture. They were both well over 6 feet and I was of course a pigmy at 4 ft nothing many moons ago before I hit the acne-scarred, budding years of my angst-ridden teenage phase. It was fun and heady. I learnt all the Beatles songs and ever since I'm a die-hard Beatles fan. I love their songs and have many CDs of their wonderful songs.

Then of course came the phase of the Golden Swedes called ABBA and Boney M and 'Daddy Cool' and the John Travolta's suggestive swagger of 'Saturday Night Fever'. I would rewind the VHS tape in the VCP (yes, we had only a playera and not a recorder) over and over and over again and 'pause' at the steps and try and match him step for step. I can still do it to some extent...LOL. Yes, that was fun. That music was catchy and memorable. Though one can argue that at an impressionable age, anything that you hear by default becomes memorable. Umm...well, I'd like to ask the teenage kids today 15 years later if they can remember Beyonce's Irreplaceable.

Of course if this blog and post were well known outside the ring of anonyomity and the 2 people who read it regularly - Pruv and Psyche - I'd be replaced pretty soon am sure for the following comment. But that song which is ruling at the A T 40 (American Top 40 if you please hosted by the good looking, cocky Ryan Seacrest who was incidentally listed as one of the 100 odd most powerful celebrities by Forbes last year in their Power List - who makes these lists anyway for crying out loud - an American 'top of the charts' radio programme which is now heard here in India too) is bad. Of course it's not half as bad as Fergie's of the Black Eyed Peas fame singing Delicious and she's come out with another called Glamorous. God help the kids of today. In fact there's no hope for the rest of humanity.

Beyonce - nice as she looks, sounds, nice as she dresses and I believe now she can act too, what with her nomination for Dreamgirls I think at the Golden Globe, not sure if she's nominated for Uncle Oscar, and however 'bootlylicious' she may be - if she can decide to pronounce the lyrics of her song and let the world understand what she's yodeling about, it might give her a few brownie points. After being an unwilling listener - it's aired on every radio channel any time of the day or night God help me - one has figured that it's about some boy friend who she's basically telling to go take a hike or is it? Who is she calling 'irreplaceable'? Don't know. But if the last line of the chorus para can be deciphered, it'd be akin to cracking a Sudoku puzzle. I haven't bothered looking up any lyrics' web site, because every time I hear it, I go, 'ummm....don't be ffeckeeee....' or is it 'don't be awickeeee....' or is it...balls! Ugh! Who ffffuckeee cares! I won't ever hum it.

And madame Fergie who looks like a trash bag and is apparently the latest model to pose for some Candies or some such which is 'oh such an honour' sings about being delicious. It's nothing but sick porn in the form of lyrics. 'Boys sitting on ther rocks and seeing what she got' and then it gets progressively worse. Sic!

Of course there are songsters like this guy called Snow Patrol, (hey,I think it's a band), who sing 'Chasing Cars'. Now that's a sweet song. Or John Mayer singing 'waiting for the world to change'. It's playing on World Space now. 'So we keep on waiting on the world to change'. Oh yes, baby, if only!

Anyway, when you cast your mind back to the songs that move you, you basically go back to the lyrics which mean something to you. For instance I heard 3 songs back-to-back on a request show on radio (where else, after all it's on every time I'm driving and I'm driving a lot), which is why it was so good - Sinead O'Connor's 'Nothing Compares to You', Shania Twain's 'You're the One' and I think Coldplay's 'The Scientist'. Bliss! Different singing styles, personalities and perhaps genres. But good stuff. See, ultimately people like stuff that makes sense.

So it's the beginning of the Single's Awareness Week as Ryan Seacrest put it, which is an interesting take on that 'hearty' day also otherwise known as 'V...ine's Day' and it's time for all the beautiful songs to be dedicated to loved ones.

I'd like to dedicate the following songs to myself, and so what if it's so not done and all that, I like myself and here's to me:
a) Lady - Kenny Rogers
b) She's always a woman - Billy Joel
c) Annie's Song - John Denver
d) Something - Beatles
e) Probably Me - Sting
f) Iris - Goo Goo Dolls
g) Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd
And tons of others including some great Hindi songs. 'Tum se milkar' from Parinda and 'ranjish hee sahee' a ghazal sung by Ghulam Ali and so on.

Long LP eh? Well, it was a stack of 4 now. :)

My Alter Ego & Pruv!

2007-02-09T22:24:00.000+05:30

Awriiiite! I have an alter ego to idiosyncrazies. Big admission? Well for me, that's like the confession of a sin.

It's a blog that I started when I decided to take a long walk away from my idiosyncrazies. It's a blog that I thought should reflect the lighter side of me. Because I'm not all Grim's Fairy Tales all the time you know? I can laugh and laugh and laugh till the tears run down my legs and I sometimes actually bring a smile to other's faces. Hard to digest this bit of self-centred trivia, but hell, yes, every word is true. Ok ok, the fact is, I'm beginning to like that blog too. The only problem is, it's not easy to be 'light' (Gosh, I've been trying to lose weight for ever it seems...ohhh! ok, it was just a minor digression at trying to be clever about 'light' and 'weight' so light weight, got it?). Anyway, enough said about that.

Now coming to Pruv. He's this kiddo that I've written about earlier in my posts too. Just read his latest post at pruvaloo.blogspot.com (it's a strange nick kiddo!, but why not eh!). It's a lovely read and it struck a deep chord in me.

I'm so glad that you've come back after your hiatus.

Sometimes I wonder if the bloggers we come across through our blogs could meet in person? And how'd it be? After all we all have our impressions through the writings? Bet it'd be one hell of an interesting union.

Anyway, that's for tonight. Tomorrow is an important day and this weekend is also a very important one. Because this weekend could decide the rest of my life.

I think my heart says 'jump'. But will the head prove the mightier of the two?

Trivia: I've started reading Suketu Mehta's Maximum City - a gift by my boss. It's a darned good read I say! A book about the city that I hate to love and love to hate. A city that is as much a part of me as my wrinkles.

No Clever Title!

2007-02-08T22:08:00.000+05:30

Sometimes the mind is abuzz with these thoughts that you want to put down. But then they're fleeting thoughts or shall I use a big word here? ideas. Yes, one has ideas which one would like to espouse about and probably start a debate on. Mmmm....but...oh well.

Anyway, as I mentioned in one of my posts earlier, the ether does bring people together. And I must say that today has been a very, how do I say it, a very proud, satisfying and touching moment for me. Someone half way across the globe has dedicated a simple post to guess who!? yours truly. I won't analyze it and reduce the simple but wonderful gesture to some major logical, calculated rationale. But thank you Ojala, wherever you are, hope you stay bright and spread the sunshine.

Otherwise it's been a ho-hum day, like any other. Or has it? Well, only time will tell. For everyday brings with it a new story. It's upto us how we unravel it.

All I can say is, I'm in >> mode again. Thank God! for small mercies.

Good night! Dream strong, dream well, dream big. Some will come true.

Ever Hit The Rewind Button?

2007-02-07T23:01:00.000+05:30

So you see a movie. And there's a scene. Between man and woman. Something about that scene strikes you. And you go whirrrrrrr....it's in rewind mode!

You see a soap opera on the idiot box. And there's a scene. Between male and female. Something she says to him makes you go whirrrrrr....rewind again.

You read a book. Words are exchanged. Between male and female protagonist. The words seem familiar. And right enough, you hit the << button.

Relationships. We're constantly trying to seek the truth about relationships aren't we? What went wrong. What went right. The analysis and post-mortem that we unleash on a relationship would make a dead body squirm. But guess that's human nature. We're always wondering how we could have done this or done that and reliving situations and dialogues and moments and letters written and songs heard and snatches of conversation. And remembering.

As I prepare to sleep, unfortunately, I'm in rewind mode. It's 'rewind relationships'. Unfortunate because it doesn't give pleasure like a much loved song or piece of poetry. An oft traversed path, it's not the canopied, leafy, serene pathway that one so loved. Now the heart sees the harsh rays of the sun leafing through the turret of green, the toes groan at the gravel sneaking in through your sole, you notice the dusty mounds of grief that you would've otherwise called hills. Yes, I am in rewind mode and I see it differently. Because when there was hope and joy and thrill and excitement, the path beckoned. Today, when there's nothing except thoughts, memories and 'what ifs' and 'why not me' ably accompanied by tears, the path seems lonely, dark and forbidding.

I wonder though. I wonder sometime. Albeit fleetingly, but the thought does cross my mind, knowing fully well that he doesn't have the time, as he's too busy building his road to wherever, too busy making a life, too busy proving his worth to himself and others (if he heasn't already), too goddammed busy in his young life, - does he think of me sometime?

Dammit! Rewinds aren't good. That's why one keeps saying, 'keep walking' and 'forward march'.

I want to say something clever and funny and philosophical and all that. But all I can do is wipe my runny nose and jab the key board harder in the hope that tomorrow will be a new dawn.

Chirp, chirp!

The good nervous!

2007-02-04T22:02:00.000+05:30

There are times and moments in one's life when you feel all apprehensive and there's tension written all over your face. And your mind is thinking of a million different things all at the same time. Scenarios are being played out in your mind. Usually they're like doomsday scenarios, enough to sound the death knell for even the bravest of hearts. And then amidst all the ludicrosity of the mind, there are moments of sheer lucidity. Of this feeling that, 'Yes, it can happen. And I am going to make it happen!'

That's the moment to cherish. That's the moment to grab. That's the moment that you should press the rewind button for. That's the moment to live for. And to die for. Because that's all you need. That moment of truth, adrenaline, belief and the 'good nervous'.

I'm feeling the 'good nervous'. I know I'm at the threshold of something new in my life. 'Karmic' new beginnings the charts and the omniscient tell me. I don't know if it's true. I just feel it.
All I need now, is oodles and oodles of self-belief and the confidence that I should and can continue.

Sometimes, life can be beautiful. I guess we just need to change our glasses from time to time.

First YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!,...

2007-02-03T10:44:00.000+05:30

YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!! YES!!!!!!!!!!!!

I told the Blogger team that I love them and I could hug and kiss and pray and dance and sing around the team member who wrote to me, saying my old blog has been retrieved, comments, et al, as is. Now that is a great piece of news wouldn't you agree? Thank God, I hadn't started cutting and pasting like I had mentioned earlier.

But... (there's always a billion butts...:) dammit!)

Now the old blog with 198 posts, resides at idiosyncrazies8.blogspot.com. I've updated it with these too. But the comments...naah! It can't all be such smooth sailing right?

Anyway, I've got my posts and comments and all that back. I promptly went and changed the template and well...it's just the smell and comfort of familiarity. I wanted the old to look like this new one so that the nw and old look like my familiar blog and oh never mnd! I just gt my blog back. It's like getting an old memory back and everything is recognizable again.

So, let me celebrate and give a Whoop! of joy. Yes, yes, yes....tum pa rum pum pum pum....dance, dance, dance, jig, jig, put your hands in the air, wave....and shake your booty all around.

Yes!!!!

It feels so good to get something back that you'd given up for good. I guess there's a lesson in here. I think it's about that old adage, 'If you love, let it go, if it comes back, it was yours forever, if it doesn't, it was never meant to be'. Or something to that effect. You know what I mean.

I think I understand letting go so much easier now. Blogspot, hats off to you and the team.

Let me be in the moment. Go and enjoy yours. Never let the moment slip out of your hands. God knows when you'll get a chance to jump and say 'yipppeeee'.

How essential is self-belief?

2007-02-01T22:25:00.000+05:30

Who hasn't heard or read innumerable new-age, old-age and whatever-age gurus, self professed experts about the importance of self-belief? Everyone has, am sure at some point in time, paused and wondered, 'what is self-belief?'

I have for sure. I've always wondered, what is self-belief? I mean, how does it feel to have or not have one? How does one even recognize if one is the possessor of such attribute metnioned hereabove?

For instance, does it feel like a lump in the throat when you see a mushy movie or bid a dear friend adieu at the airport or at any terminus? Does it feel like the thump in your heart when you see his dimpled smile or recognize her perfume from among the many splendored and doused bodies that glide through the shopping mall? Would it come announcing itself, saying, 'Knock, knock, anybody home? I'm this homeless stranger called SB and was wondering if you'd be kind enough to shelter me till such time I'm driven out by self-defeating thoughts?' What is its garb and how heavy or light is it? Is it coloured like a rainbow?

Nope. I don't have an answer. I believe it's like a mother-child relationship. Even if the mother has not set eyes on her child for years together, when she sees her child, she just knows and senses it. It's called instinct. SB and self are like that relationship. When you have it you know (I guess).

In case you have it, and know what it feels like, do drop in a line.

Till such time, I'll go look for it, cause Forgive me O Lord, for I know not what to seek!

The Ether Can Bring People Together

2007-01-30T22:38:00.000+05:30

When I first started writing a blog a little over 19 months ago, I honestly thought it'd just replace my diary. It'd be my personal space, and in this almost infinite universe of the Internet, I'd have the irony of anonyomity in a very public forum.

I never advertised it, never told anyone where my blog was located, because what I wrote was (and is) what I felt and it reflected my private tribulations.

Then I told a few friends. Some came and read never to return, some never bothered, some left comments and some like Irf have continued to be loyal. I don't know why. I'm afraid to ask.

Of course as a writer you always want some vindication of your art and talent (at least what one imperiously assumes). Then some more came by accident and one such fellow blogger became a friend. That friendship is no longer a friendship because of various reasons. I swore to be off the blog. I got back after a mini sabbatical. I accidentally deleted my blog for which I unashamedly profess great love however self-centred that may be, and great attachment. I retrieved my posts. I'm rebuilding idiosyncrazies.

And today, the blog was again the cause for bonding. She's a fellow blogger too. Maybe she felt sorry for me. Maybe she felt she owed me one as I leave comments on her infrequent posts. Maybe it was just plain curiosity. I don't know. I wrote to her. She wrote back. And we made a connection.

Not so strange am sure. But one is always wary of strangers. But then one needs to be wary of friends too isn't it? For, can one be sure of anyone or anything anywhere any more?

The ether is the carpet and all of us are the warps and the wefts that comprise the design. It's upto each of us to decide if the design is going to be enriching and vibrant or staid and morose.

Let's all turn designer shall we and create. Create bonds.

Ennui of the Soul!

2007-01-29T23:01:00.000+05:30

Anxious. Fatigued. Nervous. Apprehensive.

Adjectives that describe the current state of mind. Or is it soul? Don't know. Do I care? If I could lift myself from this abyss of apathy, I would say a resounding yes. But naah, I don't really care now.

It's that phase of life where you really feel on edge and have ambitions, aspirations, desires, yearnings, and just need a break. To see it all out there in front of you like a gossamer curtain, gently wafting in the breeze, and then to reach out and feel its reality. Oh God, yes, you want it all to just manifest itself and say, 'Voila!'

And you want to stop belabouring the same dreams and same aspirations and same desires and same yearnings. You just want a break.

In my lingo, it'd be called a 'miracle'.

(For those who come and visit this blog and some who've left a comment, thank you. Some have also wanted particular comments deleted and I'd like to just say that it's not for lack of intention, just that right now technology is disabling and not enabling. I'll try and adhere to thy command tomorrow).

Listening post!

2007-01-24T23:22:00.000+05:30

Sometimes I wish I could just pick up the phone and speak to someone who'd be non-judgmental, patient, empathetic and above all, just plain loving.

Loneliness! (Damn that Grey's anatomy, they pick on little nuggets of human emotion and it strikes a chord). It's a tough act to follow and I'm going to get Uncle Oscar for 'best actress' in the Only the Lonely (forever)!

Thank you blogdom, blogspot, online diary, listening post, confidante, whatever!Thank you for being there when I needed you. I only wish you could make the right sounds or put your arm around me, or hush and sush me and say the right things. I needed you today, and you were there, right where I left you.

I started the day by saying I felt numb. As the life out of this day ebbs and a sweeping stillness settles over it like a warm comfortable quilt, I guess I can just be happy that I feel sad after all. (Does that sound batty?)

I'm not sure!

2007-01-24T22:58:00.000+05:30

Earlier there was a time when I could write out an entire post in my mind. There were tons of things in the world that moved me, made me wonder, made me want to ask and be answered, made me cry, made me mad.

Nowadays I feel a sense of nothingness. Like ummm...like I don't care. Which isn't true. I do ask, and enquire and my mind of course is whirring along like an ageing but smooth and reliable ceiling fan (I quite like that analogy) and I actually want to put up a whole host of questions which I think are insanely inane (and therefore should go up on my other blog), but I feel I'm not thinking with that much intensity.

Can that be true? Of anyone? To be the same person, yet feel differently at different phases of one's life? Not necessarily about the same things, but I mean, the EQ bit. I don't know.

Is it ok to not know? I er...I, well...ah...guess...I'm not sure.

'Twas that time of the year...

2007-01-21T22:25:00.000+05:30

... when a cake is cut and candles are blown out. Yeah, yeah, so yesterday it was that day in the year which for some strange reason people call 'happy' birthday. What's happy about it?

Well, I did smile a lot and wore new stuff and drank kahlua and got one birthday present and had people calling me and messaging me all through the day. Guess that's supposed to be one heck of a day eh? Well, when you get to my age I'd say a resounding and emphatic yes. But I still maintain there's nothing happy about it.

So another grey, another tyre of flab, another wrinkle and another tear. It was just another day in the year in the life of...

There's always hope!

2007-01-18T23:25:00.000+05:30

Hallelujah! I managed to recover every single post of mine, minus the comments. So now I'll have to do the painful job of reconstructing the blog. Post by post by post. Cut and paste and cut and paste and what not.

I was miserable the whole day. Though I believed that nothing was lost and I would get it all back. And it happened.

Well, I didn't think it'd bother me so much, losing all my old posts. But it did. And you know why? Because I actually enjoy my own writing how much ever I criticize it. There are some really cool posts in here...:) even I myself say so.

Phew! So bear with me for a lil' while while I reconstruct.

It mayn't matter to you, but it does to me, how this blog looks. Maybe it's just one of my idiosyncrazies.

I accidentally deleted my old blog

2007-01-18T15:17:00.000+05:30

And I am in mourning! I am trying desperately to recover some of my old posts. And hence this new look and feel is actually old and I will try and get the old look and feel which is actually new. Phew!