books and nostalgia

Gobbled up Indira Goswami’s ‘In the shadow of Kamakhya’ – a collection of short stories set in Assam. Of late, i have started seeking out home-grown writers. Of course, i will always love Maugham and Lawrence and the Bronte sisters and Ayn Rand but, like they say, variety is the spice of life. And written words are my intoxication. And more varied the intoxicants, the better for me.. OK, no more digression. As i was saying, rather, writing, no typing (ok, shut up, we get you), i am trying to discover new authors (as in, authors who are new to me..i am no literary agent…J). Goswami’s book was, well, good. It kept me engrossed well into the quiet of the night. The stories are on the depressing side of the wall. And since some of the stories are set in a militant-infested background, i could empathise with them.

i was wondering whether we have any translation of Manipuri authors in English. Not that i can’t read Manipuri but i am slow at it. i remember ema reading out Mahabharat for me when i was a kid. And ‘phungga wari” – laikhutsangbi, hanuba hanubi pan thaba, mabung taretki thabaton, pebet….

i miss home..i miss home..now that it is yaosang matam, i am drenched with nostalgia.

“for the people we love the most, we seem to spend the least amount of time” (or something in that line)
--from nisha da cunha’s the quiet of the birds

o maching kare

i am on the edge of losing my temper. i never did have any patience to begin with. And it is worse when i am teaching people who are slow. Been training the newbies, yet again. And god, oh god, i find myself wanting to tear my hair out. i am a bad teacher. Because i expect people to pick up quickly. Is that fair? Maybe not. Ok, cultivate patience. If only that was easy as growing peas!

Picked a fight with him over something trivial. i think i am transforming into a super-bitch. Or maybe i should blame it on my hormones, or the phases of the moon.

he says..i say

he says -
you are a part of me
and i say -
as long as i am not your appendix
something you can cut off
and still not feel the loss

he says -
i think of you every second
and i say –
i think of you when i miss you
and i miss you when i think of you

he says..

and i say….

but when he holds me in his arms
there is no more he and no more i

does it matter then,
what he says
and what i say?

when all that separates
us from each other
is just the skin we are in

don't you dare forget me....!

if suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
--neruda

can't think of any title...

Something had been nagging at my virtually non-existent conscience for the past few days. One of the security guards of our apartment complex asked me for some money some days back. Despite my cynical nature, i find it hard to turn away people in need. But that day, somehow, i was brusque and i didn’t even listen to what he had to say and told him i would think about it. Maybe because i was wary that he chose to approach me and not others. Maybe it was the small-town girl in me thinking everybody is out to fleece me (or maybe the big-city attitude, because aren’t we small town people supposed to be more trusting?..). But i kept thinking about it.. the guy must have summoned his guts to approach me and maybe his pride too, and i didn’t even listen to what he had to say, why he needed the money.

So yesterday, when i came back from office, i asked him why he needed the money. And he said his daughter was supposed to get admitted in a school and he didn’t have enough money for it. All he wanted was 500 bucks. i gave him the 500 he wanted and got my peace of mind back. Sometimes, in my haste to be worldly wise, i tend to step on myself, on my desire to be more human. Not that i am awash with dough, but 500 is not that much money when you think about it. But to somebody else, it could mean so very much.

Sometimes i think i have become cynical to counter the fact that i can be really soft hearted at times (for goodness sake, i actually shed tears when i read sentimental novels!). One of my closest friends once told me that i have barriers all around me, walls that i have erected and from the safety within i watch the world go by. And sometimes i think maybe I am like all the hard-shelled creatures around. They have hard shells because they are vulnerable inside.

i am a mass of conflicting emotions. White emotions. Black emotions. And emotions in all shades between.

just another manic monday....

Sneaked off to the book fair on friday evening. Bullied the kids to finish their work quickly so i would not have it on my conscience! i bought 14 books and i feel like a well fed kitten..meow...

The cooking gas ran out on friday night. Since i am a stupid bitch, i did not apply for a double connection. So now, everytime it gets over, i have this tussle with the dealer. You know how it is like - they tell you two days and take 20 days. This time i decided i would not wait and went off to their godown and got a cylinder! Sometimes it is fun living on your own when you have to fend for yourself. i grew up extremely pampered - the kind of kid i would love to flush down the toilet. So i think it so fitting that i have to run around now to get things done.

The morning started on a silly note. We went for our morning tea and as we were walking down, i stopped to pop a biscuit in my mouth and somehow managed to spill a hot cup of tea on myself and my colleague! And as good luck would have it, i happen to be wearing white churidars!
So here i am, with tea stained churidars and smelling like cardamon tea.
Monday is never my day..sigh……

my babies..

My candles..my babies...How i love them....

My first brush with candle making was some years back. My elder sister was visiting and i went shopping with her. i saw this candle making kit and, for a lark, i bought it. The first candles, were, well silly looking ones. But i discovered that i actually like the process of creating something tangible out of a lump of wax. Initially i started out with empty soap and toothpaste box as moulds and crayons as colour. i moved on to cold drink cans as moulds and my candles became more presentable…i have always longed for metallic moulds, the kind professional use. But, god, they are so bloody expensive. Then ebay came to my rescue. i bought some used moulds and my candle journey really kicked off..i decided to go a little further and bought creamy wax (they are a pleasure to work with!) and nice candle colours and scent. This sure is an expensive passion (but then, aren’t all passions expensive?). But the joy of seeing your creation come alive is ummm heaven.

Back in the States, cooking and candle making was my lifeline. After office, I either used to try out new recipes or make candles. i have lost count of the number of candles i have made. Since i cannot bring them back over here, i just give them away to my friends. i have been told they are good enough to be sold. Maybe, one of these days, when i get disgusted with this 9-6 routine, i will just bid this life goodbye and start a candle shop.

If........................

if smiles could be borrowed,
how many of yours would you lend me?

if pain could be shared,
how much of my pain would you bear?

if love could be bought,
how much would you pay for my love?

office politics

i am a real apolitical creature. Office politics leaves me cold. i have always tried to steer clear of it. As it is, with my outspokeness, i can never be politically correct. But i don't want to be politically correct, i just want to say what i feel instead of wrapping it up in niceties or dumping the thoughts in a corner. It is not that i am unaware of what goes on, it is just that i am not interested in it. i just want to do my job well and leave it at that. In my 6 years over here, i have never kowtowed to anyone. Yes, i am arrogant, yes, i rub up people the wrong way, i don't conform to the rules...Maybe, like my friend says, i am not professional, in the sense that i live in my own world, do my own thing...i am good at what i do and i get paid for that. And that is all that counts to me.

Why am i raving and ranting about this? Because, unwillingly, i am getting dragged into their politics.i don't want to enter their world, where i cannot say what i feel, where stupid ideas float around just because it is suggested by someone higher up. i would never survive in that environment.

No more dark thoughts. i finished one MB yesterday night! It has been ages since i read one.You know how it is, the girl as beautiful as beautiful can be, the guy so incredibly hot and rich,the fights and the last pages where all misunderstandings are wiped clear! Cheap thrills.That is what i get from MBs. i don't like the new generation of romance novels, maybe because they are so explicit. i rather dig the subtle play of words in the older ones though some ofthe love scenes (like sky exploding into a thousand peices when they climax! What!!) are definitely funny.

The song from the movie "Honeymoon private ltd" (or something like that) - "aisa mera pyar he"has been buzzing in my head and i find myself breaking into that song. There is nothing great about it but somehow... i have been driving my sis crazy singing it and dancing like KK Menon! Not a prettysight...:)

i am a sparrow...(???)

Last week has been pretty fulfilling...Met the deadline with a day to spare (how i love myself!)...There was a production call - the kind we are always wary of-dumps in production. i was asked to join in. And no one on the problem bridge could figure out what was happening. And when you have the big guys asking what is wrong and rushing you, well, that kinda gets your goat. We spent about 3 hours, trying out different theories. i was confused because things were not making sense. So i decided to go step by step logically...And presto, i figured out why it was happening. oh, sometimes i just can't help falling in love with myself! Just kidding...:)

Spent the weekend running around trying to gather documents i need for my tax rebate. God, this time of the year sure is nasty. It is scary the amount i have to shell out as tax. i know, i know, all that stuff about paying back to the country
and all that. i was just wondering whether anybody in Manipur (apart from central govt employees) pay tax.

Spent yesterday acting as the maid. Literally got down on the knees and scrubbed the floors. Was almost 4 by the time i got all the chores done.The computer conked out again so spent the time watching TV. Watched "Maine pyar kiya" (so mushy, i swear) and "Ek hasina thi". Then decided to skip rice for dinner and had maggi instead.

Had a project lunch today. My stomach has been feeling queasy so i ate like a sparrow. And i feel like a sparrow. Whatever that means.