Do thoughts hibernate in winter? These days, i do less of thinking, which is nice for a change. Sometimes, it can be quite annoying having your thoughts chasing each other around in your head like noisy children playing tag.
Or could it be that i have finally realised the futility of it all? ummm...
The days are shorter now, the weather gloomier. i forget to think, to fret. Would this nice season last? i wonder.
i need to buy some more books. i need to fill this vacuum inside my head. Till the thoughts come out from their dank corners to torment me again, i need something else to occupy myself.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
While i pretty much enjoy the fact that i am a bad person most of the time, sometimes i wish i was able to see a bit beyond myself, if only for the sake of the few people in life i love. Which makes me wonder whether i am mellowing with age. A thought that makes me uncomfortable.
i am very selfish. It is a fact. i could not have inherited it from my mother because she is someone who is so giving, so kind in spite of the hardship life has thrown at her. It cannot be from my father either because he too is generous, sometimes too much for his (and our) own good . Well, from whichever gene pool i inherited it from, i am saddled with it. Though it is not something i am ashamed of. i am selfish because, well, i don't know why exactly.
But sometimes, when my selfishness gets in the way of the happiness of those i hold close to me, it saddens my heart (oh yes, i do possess one even though it is black).
Sometimes, i do envy those who seem to find happiness in other's happiness. Something i feel i am incapable of. You see i have to be happy myself for me to even think of making anyone else happy.
Which explains why i have always end up hurting the people i love the most. Because they expect things from me that i cannot give since i do not possess them. And while i try to exonerate myself saying it is their own fault for having expectations in the first place, sometimes, just sometimes, i wish for a drop of kindness in me.
And i am drinking juice that is beyond the best-before-date. Why, i don't know. Do i expect to find that elusive drop in 'expired' juice? i am so fit for the loony bin.
i am very selfish. It is a fact. i could not have inherited it from my mother because she is someone who is so giving, so kind in spite of the hardship life has thrown at her. It cannot be from my father either because he too is generous, sometimes too much for his (and our) own good . Well, from whichever gene pool i inherited it from, i am saddled with it. Though it is not something i am ashamed of. i am selfish because, well, i don't know why exactly.
But sometimes, when my selfishness gets in the way of the happiness of those i hold close to me, it saddens my heart (oh yes, i do possess one even though it is black).
Sometimes, i do envy those who seem to find happiness in other's happiness. Something i feel i am incapable of. You see i have to be happy myself for me to even think of making anyone else happy.
Which explains why i have always end up hurting the people i love the most. Because they expect things from me that i cannot give since i do not possess them. And while i try to exonerate myself saying it is their own fault for having expectations in the first place, sometimes, just sometimes, i wish for a drop of kindness in me.
And i am drinking juice that is beyond the best-before-date. Why, i don't know. Do i expect to find that elusive drop in 'expired' juice? i am so fit for the loony bin.
Monday, November 09, 2009
Life ...or the lack of it
The view from the window has changed. From trees well-clothed to naked ones shivering in the wind. And i wonder whether the branches are happy to be alone for some months without the weight of the leaves clinging to them like responsibilities. Or whether they miss them, their whisperings and dancing..And i wonder why i try to read too much into things that just might have no meaning.
Talked to SC after such a long time. Times were when we spent more time with each other then our respective life partners. i miss the corner of the project room that we had reserved for ourselves when we moved into the new building. We used to sit next to each other and gossip like two old ladies. And fight like cats and dogs. i miss the way we used to bully the kids, rag them till they begged for mercy. Oh such wicked souls we were and i hope we still are. Before leaving, i told him to keep my cubicle intact for me in case i come back and rejoined. i forgot to ask him whether it still is empty or whether someone has been allocated to it.
And i am not on talking terms with him. Which is difficult since it is one way. It started off with a small tiff and since i do so love being bitchy, i decided to see through him. He, being so good natured and all that, was cool after a few days. But not me. No, no. Since i have a propensity of bearing grudges (albeit for a short time - if there is anything like bearing a short-term grudge), i ignored all of his advances to bury the hatchet or whatever it is that we are supposed to bury. But i am not yet unsalvageable - i was good enough to point out by pantomiming that he had missed a call when he was in the other room. Of course, i could not ruin my hard earned reputation as a bitch by going over and handing him the phone when it rang.
i wonder whether i would be able to take over the reins in hell.
Talked to SC after such a long time. Times were when we spent more time with each other then our respective life partners. i miss the corner of the project room that we had reserved for ourselves when we moved into the new building. We used to sit next to each other and gossip like two old ladies. And fight like cats and dogs. i miss the way we used to bully the kids, rag them till they begged for mercy. Oh such wicked souls we were and i hope we still are. Before leaving, i told him to keep my cubicle intact for me in case i come back and rejoined. i forgot to ask him whether it still is empty or whether someone has been allocated to it.
And i am not on talking terms with him. Which is difficult since it is one way. It started off with a small tiff and since i do so love being bitchy, i decided to see through him. He, being so good natured and all that, was cool after a few days. But not me. No, no. Since i have a propensity of bearing grudges (albeit for a short time - if there is anything like bearing a short-term grudge), i ignored all of his advances to bury the hatchet or whatever it is that we are supposed to bury. But i am not yet unsalvageable - i was good enough to point out by pantomiming that he had missed a call when he was in the other room. Of course, i could not ruin my hard earned reputation as a bitch by going over and handing him the phone when it rang.
i wonder whether i would be able to take over the reins in hell.
Friday, November 06, 2009
and the valley was really green.....
It has been a long time since i read a book and not wanted to reach the last page for fear of losing the pleasure of sinking into the words. And such a book was "how green was my valley"...
Sometimes the written words takes me to places i probably would never go. i could almost hear the nightingales singing. So heart-warming a story, so elegantly written. It somehow reminded me of "to kill a mockingbird". Maybe it was the way both the stories touched my cold heart.
And my heart is glad to know this is but the first of a series of four books. So i will be hunting for the next three -Up, into the singing mountain; Down where the moon is small and Green, green my valley now.
And on a completely different (and bitchy) note, it tickles me pink sometimes to read the news on e-pao.net because whoever is reporting seems to think big and difficult words make for an impressive article/report (and the usage and grammar making me wonder whether there is no editor for that news service). Yeah, i am snobbish. But i just wish they realise that there is elegance in simplicity. No offence meant to the site though because i rely on it for news on what is going on in the valley of mine that was also once green.
Sometimes the written words takes me to places i probably would never go. i could almost hear the nightingales singing. So heart-warming a story, so elegantly written. It somehow reminded me of "to kill a mockingbird". Maybe it was the way both the stories touched my cold heart.
And my heart is glad to know this is but the first of a series of four books. So i will be hunting for the next three -Up, into the singing mountain; Down where the moon is small and Green, green my valley now.
And on a completely different (and bitchy) note, it tickles me pink sometimes to read the news on e-pao.net because whoever is reporting seems to think big and difficult words make for an impressive article/report (and the usage and grammar making me wonder whether there is no editor for that news service). Yeah, i am snobbish. But i just wish they realise that there is elegance in simplicity. No offence meant to the site though because i rely on it for news on what is going on in the valley of mine that was also once green.
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
How green was my valley
i picked up this book on a whim. Heard about it before but was not sure whether i would like it. And god, i love it. i am about halfway through and i am left wondering why i didn't read it earlier. Obviously because you did not have it. Oh shut up...(that is one half of me talking to the other.)
"Not that i am not satisfied with what i have become, or that i am where i am. Only that if i had not think things for myself and find things for myself, i might have had a happier life judged by ordinary standards....."
--- How green was my valley by Richard Llewellyn
That is exactly how i feel sometimes.....
"Not that i am not satisfied with what i have become, or that i am where i am. Only that if i had not think things for myself and find things for myself, i might have had a happier life judged by ordinary standards....."
--- How green was my valley by Richard Llewellyn
That is exactly how i feel sometimes.....
Monday, November 02, 2009
Swearing my mouth off
i actually grew up in a nice family - difficult to believe when you consider how i turned out! A family where swearing was not allowed, where you were supposed to answer with 'Aiga' (a corruption of the hindi word 'aagya' - 'your command')whenever anyone called you. So i grew up not dirtying my mouth with Manipuri swear words. Some of my classmates used to pepper their sentences with words never heard inside our house - even today, i do not know the meaning of some of the swear words. The strongest swear word i used was 'hingchabi' (witch).
Then high school happened. So i graduated to using 'damn' and 'shit'. But never at home.
Then i moved to another city, another life. Hostel, new friends...And since i was/am no angel and home was so far away, swear words came into my life. Fast and furious. To make up for all those lost years. And one day, i gathered enough courage to say the F word out loud. i don't remember whether i felt liberated spitting out that word. Like they say, the next time is always easier - be it murder or swearing. At one stage, i used it pretty liberally - to emphasize my point or just to shock people and myself. Since almost everybody else around me was using it, it felt less obnoxious.
Then work happened. And the F word went hibernating, unable to withstand the niceties of office life. Out came small-time galis. And from K, who used to be my next door cubicle mate, i imbibed the habit of saying 'sala'. 'Sala' became my favourite swear word. When SC and i used to have our everyday fights in the office, it would go like 'tui sala' 'tor khandaan sala'...
Then 'harami' came into the picture and sala and harami made such a nice pair. Of course, i never could bring myself to say harami out loud for the whole project to hear. i only used it with SC and SM in private. And we came up with this beautiful gali - salami (sala + harami). So we used to go like 'Salami' and no-one was any the wiser.
Since moving here, i don't have anyone to swear at. My new colleagues are squeaky clean and i am afraid they would go up in flames if i were to swear at them. So i only get to swear when i talk to SM or SC or when i chat to SN (the poor girl - she has now resorted to swearing - i am the bestest bad apple around). i use the F word now very sparsely. Sometimes when i am angry, really really really fire-spitting angry with him, in my posts when i am really disturbed, sometimes silently in my head when i rant at life...
But till today, i have never been able to swear in Manipuri. The only time i ever said a bad Manipuri swear word was when i was really small and i was used (very willing, i must add) by all my bigger cousins as a parrot to say the things they dare not. i remember being taken to a tailor's by my teen-aged cousin along with her friends and all along the way, they taught me what to say. i was a very eager beaver then and i remember reciting their script complete with swear words at the tailor! i don't remember whether i was punished when words got around about it. But that was the last time i ever sweared in Manipuri. Sala!
Then high school happened. So i graduated to using 'damn' and 'shit'. But never at home.
Then i moved to another city, another life. Hostel, new friends...And since i was/am no angel and home was so far away, swear words came into my life. Fast and furious. To make up for all those lost years. And one day, i gathered enough courage to say the F word out loud. i don't remember whether i felt liberated spitting out that word. Like they say, the next time is always easier - be it murder or swearing. At one stage, i used it pretty liberally - to emphasize my point or just to shock people and myself. Since almost everybody else around me was using it, it felt less obnoxious.
Then work happened. And the F word went hibernating, unable to withstand the niceties of office life. Out came small-time galis. And from K, who used to be my next door cubicle mate, i imbibed the habit of saying 'sala'. 'Sala' became my favourite swear word. When SC and i used to have our everyday fights in the office, it would go like 'tui sala' 'tor khandaan sala'...
Then 'harami' came into the picture and sala and harami made such a nice pair. Of course, i never could bring myself to say harami out loud for the whole project to hear. i only used it with SC and SM in private. And we came up with this beautiful gali - salami (sala + harami). So we used to go like 'Salami' and no-one was any the wiser.
Since moving here, i don't have anyone to swear at. My new colleagues are squeaky clean and i am afraid they would go up in flames if i were to swear at them. So i only get to swear when i talk to SM or SC or when i chat to SN (the poor girl - she has now resorted to swearing - i am the bestest bad apple around). i use the F word now very sparsely. Sometimes when i am angry, really really really fire-spitting angry with him, in my posts when i am really disturbed, sometimes silently in my head when i rant at life...
But till today, i have never been able to swear in Manipuri. The only time i ever said a bad Manipuri swear word was when i was really small and i was used (very willing, i must add) by all my bigger cousins as a parrot to say the things they dare not. i remember being taken to a tailor's by my teen-aged cousin along with her friends and all along the way, they taught me what to say. i was a very eager beaver then and i remember reciting their script complete with swear words at the tailor! i don't remember whether i was punished when words got around about it. But that was the last time i ever sweared in Manipuri. Sala!
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
existential nonsense
i look out from the window and see the golden leaves swaying in the wind and wonder whether they know it would not be long before they fall down. And i wonder about life, about hope, about love. i have one moment filled with this incredible lightness of being - when you know nothing matters in this life. But soon, that moment is swept away, as always. And i find myself back in the land of the living and worrying lot.
Why do these thoughts torment me? These thoughts of not knowing who i am, what i really want in life. i am the kind that would miss out on life because i am too busy trying to find the 'meaning' of my existence. Only to realise that life has passed me by while i was busy trying to figure it out.
For someone so intelligent, i can be such a fool at times!!
Why do these thoughts torment me? These thoughts of not knowing who i am, what i really want in life. i am the kind that would miss out on life because i am too busy trying to find the 'meaning' of my existence. Only to realise that life has passed me by while i was busy trying to figure it out.
For someone so intelligent, i can be such a fool at times!!
Friday, October 16, 2009
love...
"...Someone always waiting for someone who never comes home. Always someone loving something more than that thing loves them. And after a while you want to destroy whatever that thing is, so it can hurt you no more."
--Ray Bradbury's the foghorn
--Ray Bradbury's the foghorn
Thursday, October 15, 2009
@######$%^&
It is just so hopelessly frustrating when you know the place you call home is overrun by such f%^&#$^@# morons. i am talking about the so called student unions who are forcing schools and colleges to boycott classes - the fate of the entire student community held at ransom by a handful of people who call themselves students.
Who are these people? What right do they have to force thousands of students to give up their studies to further their cause - whatever their cause is? You begin to despair for those students with dreams of pursuing higher studies. Apparently, the student bodies are threatening the board of education not to go ahead with exam plans. They talk about right to life and they play with the lives of thousands.
Now where are those so called saviours of our society? Where are those meira paibis? They will never be there when it counts. i guess they are too busy 'collecting' others' hard earned money or too busy meting out 'justice'.
When will this madness cease?
Who are these people? What right do they have to force thousands of students to give up their studies to further their cause - whatever their cause is? You begin to despair for those students with dreams of pursuing higher studies. Apparently, the student bodies are threatening the board of education not to go ahead with exam plans. They talk about right to life and they play with the lives of thousands.
Now where are those so called saviours of our society? Where are those meira paibis? They will never be there when it counts. i guess they are too busy 'collecting' others' hard earned money or too busy meting out 'justice'.
When will this madness cease?
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
quote unqoute
“I have often wondered how it is that every man loves himself more than all the rest of men, but yet sets less value on his own opinions of himself than on the opinions of others”
--marcus aurelius
--marcus aurelius
Monday, October 12, 2009
the art of sulking
Some people are born to be nice. Some to be famous. i was born to be a sulker. To sulk over everything and nothing. To sulk when he cannot read my mind and do or say the things i expect him to without my prompting him. To sulk if the sun does not shine on days when i expect it to. To sulk if things do not go the way i want them to. To sulk just because i feel like sulking.
i love sulking. In fact i think i am addicted to sulking if there is such a thing as getting addicted to a state of mind.
If my mother could be believed, and all mothers should be believed, i have been sulking since birth. Sometimes for valid reasons.Sometimes for no rhyme or reason. Which makes living with me a kind of art - to decipher the reasons for my sulking and wait for it to end. When i sulk, all i want is to be left alone, not to be talked to (or talked about), to wait for it to subside just like you wait for the tides to ebb.
i can sulk for days. i can sulk for weeks. i can even sulk for a month - though the last time i did that was about a decade back. Now that i am supposed to be a responsible adult - whatever that means - the most i can afford now is days.
i love sulking because i think it gives me a chance to withdraw into my shell without anyone prodding and poking me and i get to talk to myself for hours! If i had any sense i should have denounced this world and be daydreaming in some dark cave somewhere in the himalayas. But i guess it is too late now that i have managed to get myself shackled to ties of love.
So i continue to sulk. As a devious means to get my way. Sometimes to get out of fights. Sometimes to pick fights. To escape.
The more i reflect on my nature, the more warts i find. The more warts i find, the more besotted i become with myself. It is almost as if my mind is trying to compensate for the lack of love a nature like mine would most likely encounter. It will forever remain a mystery to me why i am still loved by everyone i want to be loved by. Maybe they fear i will start sulking!!
P.S. Apropos of my previous post, my sister finally did the needful. Which made me realise that i am only taken seriously when i am angry. Now, who can blame for being such a short-tempered hag?
i love sulking. In fact i think i am addicted to sulking if there is such a thing as getting addicted to a state of mind.
If my mother could be believed, and all mothers should be believed, i have been sulking since birth. Sometimes for valid reasons.Sometimes for no rhyme or reason. Which makes living with me a kind of art - to decipher the reasons for my sulking and wait for it to end. When i sulk, all i want is to be left alone, not to be talked to (or talked about), to wait for it to subside just like you wait for the tides to ebb.
i can sulk for days. i can sulk for weeks. i can even sulk for a month - though the last time i did that was about a decade back. Now that i am supposed to be a responsible adult - whatever that means - the most i can afford now is days.
i love sulking because i think it gives me a chance to withdraw into my shell without anyone prodding and poking me and i get to talk to myself for hours! If i had any sense i should have denounced this world and be daydreaming in some dark cave somewhere in the himalayas. But i guess it is too late now that i have managed to get myself shackled to ties of love.
So i continue to sulk. As a devious means to get my way. Sometimes to get out of fights. Sometimes to pick fights. To escape.
The more i reflect on my nature, the more warts i find. The more warts i find, the more besotted i become with myself. It is almost as if my mind is trying to compensate for the lack of love a nature like mine would most likely encounter. It will forever remain a mystery to me why i am still loved by everyone i want to be loved by. Maybe they fear i will start sulking!!
P.S. Apropos of my previous post, my sister finally did the needful. Which made me realise that i am only taken seriously when i am angry. Now, who can blame for being such a short-tempered hag?
Friday, October 09, 2009
family feud and other such asinine things
OK, so i called up home and refused to have a proper conversation with my ema and baba. Before you judge me unkindly (not that i would mind very much), here is the story.
One of my relatives got married last week. He is someone who has always treated me like a sister when i was growing up - he used to get me books from library and buy me indrajal comics. Unfortunately, due to some misunderstanding, his mother and siblings had a falling out with my uncle. They are next door neighbours on top of being our relatives. i don't know how the social system works, but my parents also ended up not being invited to the wedding even though they had no part in the misunderstanding.
Now, that is one of the biggest social snubs as far as my parents are concerned! It is a funny thing how people take offence at being left out - i am all too happy whenever i am not featured on any invitation list. i heard about it from my younger sister with whom i spend hours on long distance calls gossiping about every possible events and non-events. i being the insensitive bitch as always, i called up my parents and said "i heard you people were not invited to the wedding" and started laughing as if that was the greatest joke i have ever heard. i think my father was hurt and he asked me whether that made me happy. i was like how does it matter at all whether you got invited or not. That is not the story though.
i asked my mother to go and give Da (brother, just like in bengali!) some money on my behalf as a wedding gift. My mother went 'OK'. Now, i called up after a few days and asked her whether she has done that. No. So i told her if she did not want to go there herself, she should ask my elder sister (who got invited, i think because she is married and maybe, they consider her no longer of our family..how silly!!). She said OK. Now i called up after a few days and asked the same question. No. Now, i am not a patient person but still, i held my peace. She said she would wait for my younger sister to come and let her do the needful. Thus pacified, i went on with my life.
i called up today and talked to my sister and asked her whether she went to Da's place. No. i really lost it then. i know how they feel snubbed and all that but i have been telling them not to drag me into their fights. i do want to be part of any feud weud. Da has always been so nice to me - like a big brother i never had. And i could not understand why their pride has to stand in the way of my wish. Judging that i was losing my infamous temper yet again, ema said she will make my elder sister go there tomorrow morning. i told her i don't like them and don't want to talk to them anymore. i know i am so cruel. But i just hate all these petty things. All i ask is not to be dragged into it. Is that too much to ask for? i have only one life to live and i don't want it to be cluttered with any more negative thoughts than is necessary. As it is, my head is already messed up with stupid existential questions and dreams.
My sister says i am an escapist because, as much as i love gossip, i hate hearing the stories of family feuds - this aunt saying that, doing this. It really gets me depressed because i cannot figure how why people has to be so petty to fight over land or money. i just cannot figure out how siblings can be cruel to each other, say hurtful things. i can never figure out the ways of this world. Hell, i cannot even figure out myself.
i am sad. And angry.
One of my relatives got married last week. He is someone who has always treated me like a sister when i was growing up - he used to get me books from library and buy me indrajal comics. Unfortunately, due to some misunderstanding, his mother and siblings had a falling out with my uncle. They are next door neighbours on top of being our relatives. i don't know how the social system works, but my parents also ended up not being invited to the wedding even though they had no part in the misunderstanding.
Now, that is one of the biggest social snubs as far as my parents are concerned! It is a funny thing how people take offence at being left out - i am all too happy whenever i am not featured on any invitation list. i heard about it from my younger sister with whom i spend hours on long distance calls gossiping about every possible events and non-events. i being the insensitive bitch as always, i called up my parents and said "i heard you people were not invited to the wedding" and started laughing as if that was the greatest joke i have ever heard. i think my father was hurt and he asked me whether that made me happy. i was like how does it matter at all whether you got invited or not. That is not the story though.
i asked my mother to go and give Da (brother, just like in bengali!) some money on my behalf as a wedding gift. My mother went 'OK'. Now, i called up after a few days and asked her whether she has done that. No. So i told her if she did not want to go there herself, she should ask my elder sister (who got invited, i think because she is married and maybe, they consider her no longer of our family..how silly!!). She said OK. Now i called up after a few days and asked the same question. No. Now, i am not a patient person but still, i held my peace. She said she would wait for my younger sister to come and let her do the needful. Thus pacified, i went on with my life.
i called up today and talked to my sister and asked her whether she went to Da's place. No. i really lost it then. i know how they feel snubbed and all that but i have been telling them not to drag me into their fights. i do want to be part of any feud weud. Da has always been so nice to me - like a big brother i never had. And i could not understand why their pride has to stand in the way of my wish. Judging that i was losing my infamous temper yet again, ema said she will make my elder sister go there tomorrow morning. i told her i don't like them and don't want to talk to them anymore. i know i am so cruel. But i just hate all these petty things. All i ask is not to be dragged into it. Is that too much to ask for? i have only one life to live and i don't want it to be cluttered with any more negative thoughts than is necessary. As it is, my head is already messed up with stupid existential questions and dreams.
My sister says i am an escapist because, as much as i love gossip, i hate hearing the stories of family feuds - this aunt saying that, doing this. It really gets me depressed because i cannot figure how why people has to be so petty to fight over land or money. i just cannot figure out how siblings can be cruel to each other, say hurtful things. i can never figure out the ways of this world. Hell, i cannot even figure out myself.
i am sad. And angry.
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
blah blah
My sister has gone home. She must be feasting on all those delicacies. Playing with my little cousins and niece. My heart is filled with envy.
i have three books with me right now - 'lady in white', 'red' and 'a house for mr biswas' - half digested and discarded midway. Now i cannot decide which one to pick up again. Or whether to pick up any at all.
And i want to eat dosa. The nearest south indian restaurant is about half an hour by bus. Since there is no parking space we cannot go by car. i had to trawl the net searching for any place that would sell me dosa, then beg him to take me there. He is not a dosa fan but because of my silent nagging (yes, there is such a thing as silent nagging. i think some people call it sulking), we did go there about three months back. He got dosa mix and made dosa for me the other week. He was over the moon because he thought the dosa was delicious. i agreed with him - it was the love behind the effort rather than the taste that i appreciated!
And i want to do lsd. Just once. i want to feel what it is like to 'see' sound and 'hear' vision. Ironically enough, i have had this desire after i read the chapter on the harmful effects of drug in high school!! i would also like to be a waitress.
And i know my life will end without me getting on a 'trip' on lsd or taking orders from diners. shesh.
i have three books with me right now - 'lady in white', 'red' and 'a house for mr biswas' - half digested and discarded midway. Now i cannot decide which one to pick up again. Or whether to pick up any at all.
And i want to eat dosa. The nearest south indian restaurant is about half an hour by bus. Since there is no parking space we cannot go by car. i had to trawl the net searching for any place that would sell me dosa, then beg him to take me there. He is not a dosa fan but because of my silent nagging (yes, there is such a thing as silent nagging. i think some people call it sulking), we did go there about three months back. He got dosa mix and made dosa for me the other week. He was over the moon because he thought the dosa was delicious. i agreed with him - it was the love behind the effort rather than the taste that i appreciated!
And i want to do lsd. Just once. i want to feel what it is like to 'see' sound and 'hear' vision. Ironically enough, i have had this desire after i read the chapter on the harmful effects of drug in high school!! i would also like to be a waitress.
And i know my life will end without me getting on a 'trip' on lsd or taking orders from diners. shesh.
Monday, October 05, 2009
another one of those meaningless posts
The weather is becoming brittle - every now and then the clouds break into droplets, the sun hides, the trees moan and sigh in the wind. And my mind goes blank every now and then, devoid of thoughts and dreams. i float in and out of reality, one foot in dreamland, another hovering over reality.
After another one of my unexplained break-ups with books, i got back again with the written words. And as always, i find myself living the stories. i am in the middle of two or three books - with age i am becoming more fickle. Years ago, i would not have been able to even think of starting a book before finishing one. Now, i flit from one to the next, leaving unfinished stories hanging on a line. Sometimes, i go back to finish the story. Sometimes, i just bury them. Pretty much like most of my fragmented dreams.
These days i find i am searching for nothing. i am empty. Drained.
It could pretty well be the weather. Either that or i am mellowing, rather fading. i think i want more books. i think i want to get high on grass and talk to the stars. i think i want to sleep and have another one of my recurring dreams. i think i am so losing it.
Ema always used to worry about me and my ceaseless thinking - she used to say i will go mad one day. i think i am already mad.
After another one of my unexplained break-ups with books, i got back again with the written words. And as always, i find myself living the stories. i am in the middle of two or three books - with age i am becoming more fickle. Years ago, i would not have been able to even think of starting a book before finishing one. Now, i flit from one to the next, leaving unfinished stories hanging on a line. Sometimes, i go back to finish the story. Sometimes, i just bury them. Pretty much like most of my fragmented dreams.
These days i find i am searching for nothing. i am empty. Drained.
It could pretty well be the weather. Either that or i am mellowing, rather fading. i think i want more books. i think i want to get high on grass and talk to the stars. i think i want to sleep and have another one of my recurring dreams. i think i am so losing it.
Ema always used to worry about me and my ceaseless thinking - she used to say i will go mad one day. i think i am already mad.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
the art of saying 'no'
'No' is one of my favourite words. Anyone associated with me can vouch for that. 'Can you do this for me?' - 'no'. 'Lets go there' - 'no'. 'Eat this' - 'no'. No. No. No.
i think it has something to do with i being pig-headed and conceited and yes, inconsiderate too. i don't think twice before saying 'no' to things i would rather not do. i am someone driven almost entirely by her own needs and wishes. So i cannot be bothered to think if i am hurting sentiments or breaking customs by saying 'no'. i hate being nice - there are too many nice people in this world.
i think 'no' is a powerful word and so under-utilised. Ironically, almost all of the people close to me are the type who cannot say 'no' because they are such nice people who would rather do something they don't want than hurt the other person. (It could also be that i was drawn to them in the first place because they cannot say 'no'!!!). M, one of my close friends can never say 'no' no matter how much inconvenience she has to face. So she ends up being exploited by people and having to house- and baby-sit while other people enjoy a vacation. She complains about how tired she is but she would never say 'no'. Such are the soft hearted people i associate with.
Since i am lucky enough to have been blessed with a heart that does not melt easily, saying 'no' comes easy to me. S used to say it is because i am so sure about what i want and don't want.
And once i say 'no', come hell i would not change my mind. Or so says K to anyone who tries to change my mind after i have uttered the word always at the tip of my tongue -no! He is wrong though. There are some people in my life like my mother and him who knows just which string of my otherwise insensitive heart to pull. i call it emotional blackmail. They call it 'love'. Or friends like SM and SC who can also be stubbornly patient to wear me down to the point to make me revert my 'no' to a reluctant 'yes' (like SC who can say 'chalo cha khai' almost a thousand times when i say 'no'). Would this prove i am partly human after all?
And of course, i cannot stand it when i get a 'no' for an answer!!! Such is the beauty of my nature!
i think it has something to do with i being pig-headed and conceited and yes, inconsiderate too. i don't think twice before saying 'no' to things i would rather not do. i am someone driven almost entirely by her own needs and wishes. So i cannot be bothered to think if i am hurting sentiments or breaking customs by saying 'no'. i hate being nice - there are too many nice people in this world.
i think 'no' is a powerful word and so under-utilised. Ironically, almost all of the people close to me are the type who cannot say 'no' because they are such nice people who would rather do something they don't want than hurt the other person. (It could also be that i was drawn to them in the first place because they cannot say 'no'!!!). M, one of my close friends can never say 'no' no matter how much inconvenience she has to face. So she ends up being exploited by people and having to house- and baby-sit while other people enjoy a vacation. She complains about how tired she is but she would never say 'no'. Such are the soft hearted people i associate with.
Since i am lucky enough to have been blessed with a heart that does not melt easily, saying 'no' comes easy to me. S used to say it is because i am so sure about what i want and don't want.
And once i say 'no', come hell i would not change my mind. Or so says K to anyone who tries to change my mind after i have uttered the word always at the tip of my tongue -no! He is wrong though. There are some people in my life like my mother and him who knows just which string of my otherwise insensitive heart to pull. i call it emotional blackmail. They call it 'love'. Or friends like SM and SC who can also be stubbornly patient to wear me down to the point to make me revert my 'no' to a reluctant 'yes' (like SC who can say 'chalo cha khai' almost a thousand times when i say 'no'). Would this prove i am partly human after all?
And of course, i cannot stand it when i get a 'no' for an answer!!! Such is the beauty of my nature!
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
anti social networking sites
The other day, a junior from work (read ex-work) asked me to join orkut. Now, i am allergic to all social networking sites. i told him i have an insane desire not be found by anyone or to find anyone in the virtual world.
i have been told i can find long-lost friends, have friends find me. Which is scary if you ask me. i mean, for someone so anti-social like me, that is like hell! i have always maintained that if i want to be in touch with someone it would not be through one-liners or what they call scraps (is that the right term ?). And i just don't want to be 're-discovered' by people i don't want to be in contact with. Which makes you wonder whether i have many skeletons hiding in the cupboard!!
Almost everyone (net-savvy i mean) i know has a parallel existence in the world of orkut or facebook or whatever other sites you have. In my ex-project, all the kids (and the adults too!) always had their orkut accounts open - of course, surreptitiously (but i am eagle eyed) and SC and i always cribbed about project productivity being reduced by people 'scraping' rather than working. SC is the only person in my orbit who does not exist in orkut.
i can never understand why people are so addicted to it. But then, i am an antiquated hag.
i have been told i can find long-lost friends, have friends find me. Which is scary if you ask me. i mean, for someone so anti-social like me, that is like hell! i have always maintained that if i want to be in touch with someone it would not be through one-liners or what they call scraps (is that the right term ?). And i just don't want to be 're-discovered' by people i don't want to be in contact with. Which makes you wonder whether i have many skeletons hiding in the cupboard!!
Almost everyone (net-savvy i mean) i know has a parallel existence in the world of orkut or facebook or whatever other sites you have. In my ex-project, all the kids (and the adults too!) always had their orkut accounts open - of course, surreptitiously (but i am eagle eyed) and SC and i always cribbed about project productivity being reduced by people 'scraping' rather than working. SC is the only person in my orbit who does not exist in orkut.
i can never understand why people are so addicted to it. But then, i am an antiquated hag.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Up
You know how much of a sucker i am for animation films. The other day we watched this film 'Up'. What drew me to it was that it was a story of an old man trying to fulfil his dead wife's dream. A romantic animation film - how cool is that? Of course, it is not the kind of cootchie-cooing, mushy stuff. You have the film's prologue showing the couple meeting as kids, falling in love, getting married, getting old and the death of the wife - their entire love story in mabye 5 minute of silent footage.
So if the wife dies before the film hardly takes off, you ask me where is the romance? The romance is in the old man, who cannot even walk unaided, trying to fulfil what is his wife's lifelong dream of going to South America. That is what got me. Maybe the first animation film that brought a lump to my throat.
i wonder if i die now, whether he would cross the sahara for me. Or go watch the aurora borealis. Nay...sigh..sigh...
So if the wife dies before the film hardly takes off, you ask me where is the romance? The romance is in the old man, who cannot even walk unaided, trying to fulfil what is his wife's lifelong dream of going to South America. That is what got me. Maybe the first animation film that brought a lump to my throat.
i wonder if i die now, whether he would cross the sahara for me. Or go watch the aurora borealis. Nay...sigh..sigh...
Thursday, September 24, 2009
basketball in the rain
Sometimes, memories are all that is left of happy days, when the world was unencumbered by expectations, when life flowed from one day to the next, when crushes and blushes bloomed, when you were drunk with the possibilities of things to come...
How carefree we were - bunked classes, staying up nights reading M&B and lusting for the forbidden fruit, of adda fuelled by lebu-cha, the mindless chatters, the endless ribbing, those nights at the library mugging up before the semester, the off-tune rendering of 'truly, madly, deeply do', those games of basketball.
When it rains, i remember that evening. When the skies opened up and everyone scurried for shelter, and we braved the rain and carried on playing. Drenched to the bones. With the lighting lighting up the dark night, with the thunder applauding. When our sweat mingled with the rain drops.
i no longer play basketball. i cannot remember the last time i intentionally got myself drenched in the rain. But i still have the memories etched in my mind, like scars of wounds sustained long ago.
How carefree we were - bunked classes, staying up nights reading M&B and lusting for the forbidden fruit, of adda fuelled by lebu-cha, the mindless chatters, the endless ribbing, those nights at the library mugging up before the semester, the off-tune rendering of 'truly, madly, deeply do', those games of basketball.
When it rains, i remember that evening. When the skies opened up and everyone scurried for shelter, and we braved the rain and carried on playing. Drenched to the bones. With the lighting lighting up the dark night, with the thunder applauding. When our sweat mingled with the rain drops.
i no longer play basketball. i cannot remember the last time i intentionally got myself drenched in the rain. But i still have the memories etched in my mind, like scars of wounds sustained long ago.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
of friends and foes
Today, in one of my endless musings passing through my crowded mess of a mind, i was thinking of the people termed as friends.
As a kid, we were not encouraged to mix with the leikai (locality) kids for fear that we would pick up bad words and other bad habits - now you know why i turned out to be such a snob! - and so i had no leikai friend except for a girl (approved by parents as coming from 'good family'!!). They moved elsewhere and so i grew up only with school friends i.e. friends from school (oh yes, we get it ma'am, you really don't need to explain that..god..)
It is a personality flaw i suppose but i am no longer in touch with a single one of them - we, who cried as if the world was coming to an end at the farewell party, scribbled how we would never forget each other on the white school shirt. i still have the shirt but not the friends! It is not as if i cannot trace them - i know all it would take is for me to spend a minute trawling one of those social sites ( which i am allergic to but that is fodder for another post). i even had a couple of them tracing me, seeking me out but i - oh the bitch i am - did not take the stretched hands. Sometimes, i wonder why. Is it that i have outgrown those childish giggly moments? Or is it just that i am a different person now and i want to preserve memories as they are - like the shirt with promises all broken - and don't want to find out that i cannot gel with them anymore? i have steadfastly refused to answer mails from old friends - i guess i am becoming more anti-social as my hair ripens into grey.
What is it that makes me so indifferent to the past? i hate dwelling in it - i like the past to be in the background. But to ignore old friends, does not that smack of something lacking in me - like loyalty?
Which makes me wonder - would the few (very, very, very few) people i call friends now also go this way? i am so good at being alone - i love being alone, sometimes i think i would be perfectly fine if you put me in a room filled with books and an internet connection (so i could regale the world with tales of 'alone-ness') and yes, food.
But i guess with the few friends i have now, i am in more 'stable' relationships.i still have the desire to know if they are alive, to worry about them at times, to abuse them with the choicest of galis, to want them to be in touch with me.. i hope i would continue to pester them with my presence till my sanity deserts me. And i hope they would nag me into not dropping out of the orbit if i should go hibernating, as i am wont to do at times.
What is with the 'foes' part in the title? i have no foe for the simple reason that if i don't like someone, they cease to exist for me.
As a kid, we were not encouraged to mix with the leikai (locality) kids for fear that we would pick up bad words and other bad habits - now you know why i turned out to be such a snob! - and so i had no leikai friend except for a girl (approved by parents as coming from 'good family'!!). They moved elsewhere and so i grew up only with school friends i.e. friends from school (oh yes, we get it ma'am, you really don't need to explain that..god..)
It is a personality flaw i suppose but i am no longer in touch with a single one of them - we, who cried as if the world was coming to an end at the farewell party, scribbled how we would never forget each other on the white school shirt. i still have the shirt but not the friends! It is not as if i cannot trace them - i know all it would take is for me to spend a minute trawling one of those social sites ( which i am allergic to but that is fodder for another post). i even had a couple of them tracing me, seeking me out but i - oh the bitch i am - did not take the stretched hands. Sometimes, i wonder why. Is it that i have outgrown those childish giggly moments? Or is it just that i am a different person now and i want to preserve memories as they are - like the shirt with promises all broken - and don't want to find out that i cannot gel with them anymore? i have steadfastly refused to answer mails from old friends - i guess i am becoming more anti-social as my hair ripens into grey.
What is it that makes me so indifferent to the past? i hate dwelling in it - i like the past to be in the background. But to ignore old friends, does not that smack of something lacking in me - like loyalty?
Which makes me wonder - would the few (very, very, very few) people i call friends now also go this way? i am so good at being alone - i love being alone, sometimes i think i would be perfectly fine if you put me in a room filled with books and an internet connection (so i could regale the world with tales of 'alone-ness') and yes, food.
But i guess with the few friends i have now, i am in more 'stable' relationships.i still have the desire to know if they are alive, to worry about them at times, to abuse them with the choicest of galis, to want them to be in touch with me.. i hope i would continue to pester them with my presence till my sanity deserts me. And i hope they would nag me into not dropping out of the orbit if i should go hibernating, as i am wont to do at times.
What is with the 'foes' part in the title? i have no foe for the simple reason that if i don't like someone, they cease to exist for me.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
show me the darkness
i wander from one day to the next.
i sleep-walk through the nights.
i search for the meaning of my existence -
in the mirror,
in the books,
in your eyes,
your smiles,
your frowns,
your touch,
in my fragmented dreams.
i dig for nuggets of happiness
in the dark recess of my mind.
i sow the seeds of depression
and harvest buckets of tear.
i cling on the feet of dreams
that threaten to desert me
i ration my smiles
lest i have none for tomorrow
i seek for darkness
to torment my soul
that lusts for light
i sleep-walk through the nights.
i search for the meaning of my existence -
in the mirror,
in the books,
in your eyes,
your smiles,
your frowns,
your touch,
in my fragmented dreams.
i dig for nuggets of happiness
in the dark recess of my mind.
i sow the seeds of depression
and harvest buckets of tear.
i cling on the feet of dreams
that threaten to desert me
i ration my smiles
lest i have none for tomorrow
i seek for darkness
to torment my soul
that lusts for light
Friday, September 18, 2009
rang de chunariya
Though i do not possess a single religious cell in my body, i do like listening to Anup Jalota's bhajans courtesy my friend K. How we used to hum the bhajans in the office - the good old days when we were in the same project. We particularly loved humming 'rang de chunariya' and 'aisi lagi lagan'.
Rang de chunariya
Shyam piya more rang de chunariya
Aise rang de
ke rang nahi choote
Doobiya doye chahe
sari umariya
Shyam piya more
rang de chunariya
lal na rangawung me
hari na ranga wung
apne hi rang me
rang de chunariya
bina rangaye
me toh ghar nahi jawungi
beet hi jaye chahe
sari umariya
jal se patla kaun he
kaun bhoomi se bhari
kaun agan se tej he
kaun kajal se kali
jal se patla gyan he
paap bhoomi se bhari
krodh agan se tej he
aur kalang kajal se kali
Rang de chunariya
Shyam piya more rang de chunariya
Aise rang de
ke rang nahi choote
Doobiya doye chahe
sari umariya
Shyam piya more
rang de chunariya
lal na rangawung me
hari na ranga wung
apne hi rang me
rang de chunariya
bina rangaye
me toh ghar nahi jawungi
beet hi jaye chahe
sari umariya
jal se patla kaun he
kaun bhoomi se bhari
kaun agan se tej he
kaun kajal se kali
jal se patla gyan he
paap bhoomi se bhari
krodh agan se tej he
aur kalang kajal se kali
Thursday, September 17, 2009
the 'lost' generation
First it was the bandh. Then the curfew. Now it is the class boycott. You begin to worry about the kids caught in the mess that is Manipur.
The other day i called up home and ema told me my little cousin was getting 'crazy' staying at home as schools were closed due to the ongoing class boycott. It seems they have even banned private tuitions. Now what is left is for them to ban kids from opening their books and studying. They might as well do that. What do they stand to gain by disrupting education?
When will this madness end? You fear to think of what will happen to the new generation that has been deprived of a normal childhood. i am reminded of the question my little niece asked me when she came to visit us. Seeing that there was no load shedding, she asked 'How come you have light every day?' Such an innocent question but it broke my heart to think that even a basic necessity of a modern world is denied to them. She used to think it was diwali everyday seeing the shops so brightly illuminated. How sad is that?
As much as a traitor i feel, i have no desire to go back. Which does not mean i do not miss it. Maybe i love and miss it so much that i do not want to go back and have the memories of the place i grew up sullied by all that is happening.
The other day i called up home and ema told me my little cousin was getting 'crazy' staying at home as schools were closed due to the ongoing class boycott. It seems they have even banned private tuitions. Now what is left is for them to ban kids from opening their books and studying. They might as well do that. What do they stand to gain by disrupting education?
When will this madness end? You fear to think of what will happen to the new generation that has been deprived of a normal childhood. i am reminded of the question my little niece asked me when she came to visit us. Seeing that there was no load shedding, she asked 'How come you have light every day?' Such an innocent question but it broke my heart to think that even a basic necessity of a modern world is denied to them. She used to think it was diwali everyday seeing the shops so brightly illuminated. How sad is that?
As much as a traitor i feel, i have no desire to go back. Which does not mean i do not miss it. Maybe i love and miss it so much that i do not want to go back and have the memories of the place i grew up sullied by all that is happening.
Monday, September 14, 2009
of puja and bhog and other things
Durga puja is around the corner. So i asked him whether they have any puja celebration out here, what with the large indian community living here. He said we would have to find out. i told him that the bhog they serve during puja is delicious. He was like 'and i thought you wanted to go to pray and all you are interested is the food'. Maybe he thought i had mended my 'wayward' ways and was becoming religious! Not in this lifetime.
We watched 'Year One' - Jack Black is such a funny guy. Gross and funny. It was good in bits and pieces.
Had some guests over for lunch. i am not fond of entertaining unless it is people close to me. But domestic life rules that you should shed your 'unsocial' attitude and try to be as genial as possible sometimes. Being a vain person, i made sure the food was cooked by me - because i am always wary of others' cooking skills! - and that i put in my best efforts. Even though i may pretend i don't care, but compliments about my cooking always please me no end! Which i got in plenty. Oh, i am so good a cook.
And what is it with people who proclaims their inability to cook or perform a domestic chore as if it was something to be proud of? i mean, what is to be so proud of not having ever stitched/mended something ever in your life? Is it to hint that you are so rich and pampered that you never had to lift a finger? As if i would care.
We watched 'Year One' - Jack Black is such a funny guy. Gross and funny. It was good in bits and pieces.
Had some guests over for lunch. i am not fond of entertaining unless it is people close to me. But domestic life rules that you should shed your 'unsocial' attitude and try to be as genial as possible sometimes. Being a vain person, i made sure the food was cooked by me - because i am always wary of others' cooking skills! - and that i put in my best efforts. Even though i may pretend i don't care, but compliments about my cooking always please me no end! Which i got in plenty. Oh, i am so good a cook.
And what is it with people who proclaims their inability to cook or perform a domestic chore as if it was something to be proud of? i mean, what is to be so proud of not having ever stitched/mended something ever in your life? Is it to hint that you are so rich and pampered that you never had to lift a finger? As if i would care.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
chandrabindu's bathroom
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This is a hilarious song from Chandrabindu.
Reminds me of the times at school when we tried to go to the bathroom every other period. We used to enjoy the walk to the bathroom, peeping into other classrooms and chit-chatting in the bathroom rather than attend non-urgent nature's call. i once told my teacher i would have to 'do' it in the classroom when she refused to let me go because i had gone too many times that day!! No wonder that i was always the teacher's pet!!!
This is a hilarious song from Chandrabindu.
Reminds me of the times at school when we tried to go to the bathroom every other period. We used to enjoy the walk to the bathroom, peeping into other classrooms and chit-chatting in the bathroom rather than attend non-urgent nature's call. i once told my teacher i would have to 'do' it in the classroom when she refused to let me go because i had gone too many times that day!! No wonder that i was always the teacher's pet!!!
Friday, September 11, 2009
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
view from the bedroom window
The view from the bedroom window. Makes me want to sprout wings and fly. But cannot gather enough feathers to weave myself wings.
Sunday, September 06, 2009
happy b'day behena
Today is my sister's birthday. i remember i was home last year on her birthday - but my memory being the state it is in i cannot even remember what we did. i miss her. i sent her some money and asked her to buy a gift for herself but my behena being the stingy nupi she is, she asked me what she would buy in times when sugar costs 40 rs per kg! Just the thing to expect from her! i mean, she would never buy anything for herself which partly explains why i always end up buying things for her when i go shopping.
i wish i was home on her birthday. It is at times like this that i wonder whether it is worth staying so far away from home. When your loved ones are only voices on the phone. When you cannot hug your family and have to make do with sound waves ferrying your emotions across the oceans.
i love you, my sister.
i wish i was home on her birthday. It is at times like this that i wonder whether it is worth staying so far away from home. When your loved ones are only voices on the phone. When you cannot hug your family and have to make do with sound waves ferrying your emotions across the oceans.
i love you, my sister.
Friday, September 04, 2009
NCIS
This is one crime soap i love. i have always had a soft spot for all those crime-solving stuffs - starting from the famous five to Hardy Boys to Agatha Christie to Perry Mason and everything in between. i religiously watched 'Medical Detectives' on Discovery Channel. Then i moved on to CSI - SVU, Law and Order et al. Then NCIS happened.
After we moved to the new place and we bought the big TV (it is another story that we set out to buy a 19 inch one and ended up buying the 32 inch we could hardly afford then - which illustrates just how fickle we are!), i found this channel showing NCIS. i used to watch this when i was staying cooped up in the studio suite in CA - those good whole days when i spent entire weekend marinating in bed with the remote and laptop. He was dragged into watching it and i guess he got interested too.
What i love about it is that the characters have their quirks and it is not so stiff collared as the other crime serials. The camaraderie among the unit reminds me of my project - i mean, my ex-project, though i can never think of it as ex. They bicker, trade insults...Makes me miss those days when work was pure fun - it was like i was getting paid for doing just what i enjoy- bullying and nagging!! Plus the fact that i like the guy who plays Gibbs (Mark Harmon - i have seen him play some chota-mota roles in movies) and i like the character he plays - technologically challenged (like me), logically strong (like me, ahem, ahem) and impatient. i could be the female version of Gibbs!!
After we moved to the new place and we bought the big TV (it is another story that we set out to buy a 19 inch one and ended up buying the 32 inch we could hardly afford then - which illustrates just how fickle we are!), i found this channel showing NCIS. i used to watch this when i was staying cooped up in the studio suite in CA - those good whole days when i spent entire weekend marinating in bed with the remote and laptop. He was dragged into watching it and i guess he got interested too.
What i love about it is that the characters have their quirks and it is not so stiff collared as the other crime serials. The camaraderie among the unit reminds me of my project - i mean, my ex-project, though i can never think of it as ex. They bicker, trade insults...Makes me miss those days when work was pure fun - it was like i was getting paid for doing just what i enjoy- bullying and nagging!! Plus the fact that i like the guy who plays Gibbs (Mark Harmon - i have seen him play some chota-mota roles in movies) and i like the character he plays - technologically challenged (like me), logically strong (like me, ahem, ahem) and impatient. i could be the female version of Gibbs!!
Thursday, September 03, 2009
lend me some patience
Though there is not much i don't like about myself, if i were asked to ask for something, i would love to be more patient.
How do people manage to be patient? i can never understand. Of course, everyone who has had something to do with me, starting from family, friends and colleagues, have to be patient to deal with me and my never-ending nakhras.
i have been impatient - with life, with love, with everything. i guess it has something to do with the fact that i was pretty much a spoilt brat - in fact, a guy who used to ferry me to school used to call me "hingchabi" and almost everyone who knew me from my half-pants days has some story to tell of the atrocities i committed as a kid (not that age has mellowed me down). i am a spoilt adult now. And i guess i will die as a withered spoilt hag.
Patience - it is that quality that eludes me. i have been told it would come automatically - hell, half my lifetime has been spent and still there is not a shadow of patience in my life. Is it cultivated? Is it something inborn - either you have it or you don't?
If i could borrow an ounce of patience from all the people i know, maybe life would be better - for the people around me.
How do people manage to be patient? i can never understand. Of course, everyone who has had something to do with me, starting from family, friends and colleagues, have to be patient to deal with me and my never-ending nakhras.
i have been impatient - with life, with love, with everything. i guess it has something to do with the fact that i was pretty much a spoilt brat - in fact, a guy who used to ferry me to school used to call me "hingchabi" and almost everyone who knew me from my half-pants days has some story to tell of the atrocities i committed as a kid (not that age has mellowed me down). i am a spoilt adult now. And i guess i will die as a withered spoilt hag.
Patience - it is that quality that eludes me. i have been told it would come automatically - hell, half my lifetime has been spent and still there is not a shadow of patience in my life. Is it cultivated? Is it something inborn - either you have it or you don't?
If i could borrow an ounce of patience from all the people i know, maybe life would be better - for the people around me.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
changing allegiance
Never thought it would be so easy to love someone so instantly. Never thought it would be so easy to displace him with another as the new love of my life. Never thought i would feel this way. Never thought....
Friday, August 14, 2009
the art of waiting
If waiting is an art, i will never be able to master it. i hate waiting. For anything. Or anyone. And somehow, life has conspired to make sure that all of the people close to me have no sense of punctuality. So i am doomed to a life of always waiting.
i am not in a condition to think coherently. My thoughts flit around in my head like butterflies - i am never able to catch them. i think i will blog about this and that and i log in and i never can bring myself to do anything. Today i managed to stir up some life...but not the words!
i am scared. Of the changes just around the corner. Scared of how i would be able to cope with them - whether i will wilt under pressure. i am scared of whether i would be able to do justice to my responsibilities. i am scared, as always, of life. So i do what i am so good at - shut out all these thoughts. Try not to think about anything but the next moment.
i am so tired of waiting. Tired of wondering whether today would be the day.
i am not in a condition to think coherently. My thoughts flit around in my head like butterflies - i am never able to catch them. i think i will blog about this and that and i log in and i never can bring myself to do anything. Today i managed to stir up some life...but not the words!
i am scared. Of the changes just around the corner. Scared of how i would be able to cope with them - whether i will wilt under pressure. i am scared of whether i would be able to do justice to my responsibilities. i am scared, as always, of life. So i do what i am so good at - shut out all these thoughts. Try not to think about anything but the next moment.
i am so tired of waiting. Tired of wondering whether today would be the day.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
.............
He watches me
watching the dark clouds gather
As the clouds open up
A tear slithers down
To escape the confines of an eye
That seeks out only dark clouds to gaze at
He wipes the tear drop
And kisses the eyes
that only seek out dark clouds
He cradles the head
That swarms with thoughts
No one can fathom
He tries to coax a smile
From lips that only droop
watching the dark clouds gather
As the clouds open up
A tear slithers down
To escape the confines of an eye
That seeks out only dark clouds to gaze at
He wipes the tear drop
And kisses the eyes
that only seek out dark clouds
He cradles the head
That swarms with thoughts
No one can fathom
He tries to coax a smile
From lips that only droop
Friday, July 24, 2009
opekha...
Just like me, the weather cannot make up its mind. One minute the sun smiles down, the next, the sky weeps it heart out. Maybe i like the weather here - it changes like my fickle mind. Undecided whether to be happy or sad. Excited or bored. A different mood each time. Capricious. Like me.
i wait. With trepidation. Scared and excited. Alone. And yet, not alone.
i wait. With trepidation. Scared and excited. Alone. And yet, not alone.
Friday, April 24, 2009
hum toh chale...
So we are moving to a new apartment. After nearly dying of checking out online ads for apartments, calling up lettings agent after agent, viewing potential apartments, at long last, we found a place we can call our home for the next 6 months at least.
It has been a frustrating process - first we could not make up our minds about where to stay, then about how much we could afford to spend, whether we wanted a 1-bedroom or 2-bedroom..i was just about ready to tear out my eye lashes in despair when the darling sent me details about a potential apartment which seems just about the right one we were looking for - halfway between his place of work and mine, spacious and just about the price we could afford without having to live on bread and water.
It is so different from CA. i mean, over there, finding an apartment never seemed that much of a deal. You have the choice of many good apartment complexes. Over here, it is the letting agent carrying out the negotiation between you and the private landlord.
Anyway, all that is behind us now. We are moving in tomorrow. i know he does not expect me to move my lazy ass and slither off the bed to pack the things. Just to prove him wrong, i packed (ok, stuffed) the two gaint luggages, cleaned up the drawers and even threw away the two oranges that have been keeping me company for about three weeks now! i just want to see his face when he comes back from the office and notice how i have been such a dutiful bharatiya nari!!
i sometimes wonder how it would have been like if we had not decided to come over here. We would have moved into our new place by now - we would have had the griha parvesh party..we would have fought over the choice of furniture and oven and curtains...we would have agonised about whether to give the old place out to rent or keep it...we would have been roasted in the summer heat..but it would have been home....
Where do i belong? Is it worth it staying away from the people you love? ummm..i don't know. Sometimes, i feel the whole world is my home and at times, i long for that little piece of land i could call home. Sometimes, i want to live out of my suitcase, at times i feel like i never want to pack another suitcase again. i want to spread my wings and fly --and yet, i want to grow roots to tie me to some place.
Hum toh he pardes me
Desh me nikla hoga chand
Apne chaat ke angaan pe
tanha hoga chand...
It has been a frustrating process - first we could not make up our minds about where to stay, then about how much we could afford to spend, whether we wanted a 1-bedroom or 2-bedroom..i was just about ready to tear out my eye lashes in despair when the darling sent me details about a potential apartment which seems just about the right one we were looking for - halfway between his place of work and mine, spacious and just about the price we could afford without having to live on bread and water.
It is so different from CA. i mean, over there, finding an apartment never seemed that much of a deal. You have the choice of many good apartment complexes. Over here, it is the letting agent carrying out the negotiation between you and the private landlord.
Anyway, all that is behind us now. We are moving in tomorrow. i know he does not expect me to move my lazy ass and slither off the bed to pack the things. Just to prove him wrong, i packed (ok, stuffed) the two gaint luggages, cleaned up the drawers and even threw away the two oranges that have been keeping me company for about three weeks now! i just want to see his face when he comes back from the office and notice how i have been such a dutiful bharatiya nari!!
i sometimes wonder how it would have been like if we had not decided to come over here. We would have moved into our new place by now - we would have had the griha parvesh party..we would have fought over the choice of furniture and oven and curtains...we would have agonised about whether to give the old place out to rent or keep it...we would have been roasted in the summer heat..but it would have been home....
Where do i belong? Is it worth it staying away from the people you love? ummm..i don't know. Sometimes, i feel the whole world is my home and at times, i long for that little piece of land i could call home. Sometimes, i want to live out of my suitcase, at times i feel like i never want to pack another suitcase again. i want to spread my wings and fly --and yet, i want to grow roots to tie me to some place.
Hum toh he pardes me
Desh me nikla hoga chand
Apne chaat ke angaan pe
tanha hoga chand...
Thursday, April 23, 2009
..and the tide turns
So many a times, i have made wrong turns, found myself in situations seemingly hopeless - only to have life bail me out. And it has happened so many times that i have begun to think i can breeze through life. That no matter how many wrong turns i take, i will find a way out, one way or the other. Which is stupid.
You would think anyone with a little common sense would know better than to chuck a job without having another one safely tucked away in the pocket. The big big boss of my previous company even made me an offer to take unpaid leave and go onsite while they tried to find a suitable project for me here - with his personal guarantee that if i found another job in the meantime, i could always leave without any fuss. And yours truly turned down his offer - yes, i am that dumb.
After about two weeks of diligently applying for jobs online - i think i am done with my share of applying for jobs this lifetime - sending out CVs and not getting even a squeak in reply, i gave up. i am that persistent! i stop surfing jobsites, ignored mails from jobsites. Just shut shop and turned to other things more productive like sleeping and watching TV.
Then, out of the blue, while i was bitching with my sister on the phone, my mobile rang. A female voice asked me if i had applied for so and so position in so and so company. "i don't recall--i might have" -- talk about making a good first impression! She asked me if i was interested in coming down to their office for an interview. Since this was the first time anyone was even remotely interested in checking me out, i said yes. The office was in a place i have never heard of - but then i have not heard of 99% of the places here.
Then started the process of trying to find the place and how to reach it. It is almost 2 hrs from where i stay. And since he would not be able to chaperon me, he tried to work out the train and bus route for me. i am geographically handicapped. i cannot tell my right from my left - forget about east and west and other such complicated directions. i think i was more interested in getting to the place safely than the interview. He dictated and i copied down the directions from
google maps - though none of the intructions made sense to me, get off the train, go to the bus station, turn northeast and walk towards this and that. Northeast?? Which direction is that?
On the day of the interview, i woke up with a sinking feeling - knowing i would get lost - and he told me i didn't have to go if i didn't want to. But in life, facing your fears is the only way to get rid of them. So i went. i just didn't care about the interview - only to get there and come back. Somehow, i found the place - it was tucked away in a quiet place with not a soul in sight. Imagine getting lost there. i would not have been happier if i had found the lost city of El Dorado!
The interview- after having being on the other side of the table it was fun to be other side getting grilled rather than grilling! They asked me the questions i have asked those poor souls once upon a time. i was so confident i would not get the job that i treated it like a fun outing. i said some things that made them exchange looks with each other! It was so so fun. i told them that i nag people a lot, that i am stubborn, impatient, politically incorrect and blunt. i just love highlighting my negative points. One of the guys thought maybe i was vocabulary challenged and he suggested that maybe i meant i was persistent, not stubborn. i looked at him and said "no, i am too stubborn to be called persistent"! Don't you just love the way i am so good at self promotion!
They told me the standard " we would be interviewing some more candidates and will let you know after a few days.". And i left confident that i would not be hearing from them again.
So it came as a big surprise when they mailed me that i have been shortlisted and they would have a second interview. There was no way i was going for another round so i did not reply.
And then after a week, the lady called up again and what do you know, they thought i was the best candidate and could i join the next week if possible? What?! Life never ceases to amaze.
You would think anyone with a little common sense would know better than to chuck a job without having another one safely tucked away in the pocket. The big big boss of my previous company even made me an offer to take unpaid leave and go onsite while they tried to find a suitable project for me here - with his personal guarantee that if i found another job in the meantime, i could always leave without any fuss. And yours truly turned down his offer - yes, i am that dumb.
After about two weeks of diligently applying for jobs online - i think i am done with my share of applying for jobs this lifetime - sending out CVs and not getting even a squeak in reply, i gave up. i am that persistent! i stop surfing jobsites, ignored mails from jobsites. Just shut shop and turned to other things more productive like sleeping and watching TV.
Then, out of the blue, while i was bitching with my sister on the phone, my mobile rang. A female voice asked me if i had applied for so and so position in so and so company. "i don't recall--i might have" -- talk about making a good first impression! She asked me if i was interested in coming down to their office for an interview. Since this was the first time anyone was even remotely interested in checking me out, i said yes. The office was in a place i have never heard of - but then i have not heard of 99% of the places here.
Then started the process of trying to find the place and how to reach it. It is almost 2 hrs from where i stay. And since he would not be able to chaperon me, he tried to work out the train and bus route for me. i am geographically handicapped. i cannot tell my right from my left - forget about east and west and other such complicated directions. i think i was more interested in getting to the place safely than the interview. He dictated and i copied down the directions from
google maps - though none of the intructions made sense to me, get off the train, go to the bus station, turn northeast and walk towards this and that. Northeast?? Which direction is that?
On the day of the interview, i woke up with a sinking feeling - knowing i would get lost - and he told me i didn't have to go if i didn't want to. But in life, facing your fears is the only way to get rid of them. So i went. i just didn't care about the interview - only to get there and come back. Somehow, i found the place - it was tucked away in a quiet place with not a soul in sight. Imagine getting lost there. i would not have been happier if i had found the lost city of El Dorado!
The interview- after having being on the other side of the table it was fun to be other side getting grilled rather than grilling! They asked me the questions i have asked those poor souls once upon a time. i was so confident i would not get the job that i treated it like a fun outing. i said some things that made them exchange looks with each other! It was so so fun. i told them that i nag people a lot, that i am stubborn, impatient, politically incorrect and blunt. i just love highlighting my negative points. One of the guys thought maybe i was vocabulary challenged and he suggested that maybe i meant i was persistent, not stubborn. i looked at him and said "no, i am too stubborn to be called persistent"! Don't you just love the way i am so good at self promotion!
They told me the standard " we would be interviewing some more candidates and will let you know after a few days.". And i left confident that i would not be hearing from them again.
So it came as a big surprise when they mailed me that i have been shortlisted and they would have a second interview. There was no way i was going for another round so i did not reply.
And then after a week, the lady called up again and what do you know, they thought i was the best candidate and could i join the next week if possible? What?! Life never ceases to amaze.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Honesty is the best policy....
How cliche is that? Am i honest person? i would love to think so. Though i feel i am honest when it suits me. Is omission of the truth being dishonest? When you leave out a fact or two?
Do i lie? Oh, i love telling lies. In my family, it is said that you cannot believe 90% of the things i say. If my mother asks me to tell if the dish is OK, i would eat a mouthful and make such a face and tell her "Oh ema, did you forget to put the salt again?" and my poor mother would go "i am growing old. i must have forgotten again" and reach for the salt only to see her precious daughter burst out laughing. If anyone asks me anything, i always tell the opposite of what is true--a lie, i think that is what it is called. i get a kick out of it - which says a lot about the kind of person i am. Even after all these years, my mother still asks me to sample the dish when i am home. i guess it is the kind of blind love a mother has, hoping her daughter will one day grow up and stop being so silly.
On serious matters, i guess i try to be truthful. Well, most of the time. He knows by now that if he asks me something and i keep quiet, it means i would rather play dumb than lie. Which is hypocritical in a sense since i believe in being blunt and hand out unpleasant truths to all and sundry. But then, i am a hypocrite.
What am i talking about? i don't know. Sometimes, my thoughts resemble a bowl of salad - all mixed up. But a salad makes sense. While i don't.
i like to think i tell the truth when it counts. But doesn't truth count all the time? Oh hell, what is the point of having a brain that keeps counter-attacking your every statement?
Won't it be fun to die with a lie on your lips? Somebody, please save me from my rampaging thoughts.
Do i lie? Oh, i love telling lies. In my family, it is said that you cannot believe 90% of the things i say. If my mother asks me to tell if the dish is OK, i would eat a mouthful and make such a face and tell her "Oh ema, did you forget to put the salt again?" and my poor mother would go "i am growing old. i must have forgotten again" and reach for the salt only to see her precious daughter burst out laughing. If anyone asks me anything, i always tell the opposite of what is true--a lie, i think that is what it is called. i get a kick out of it - which says a lot about the kind of person i am. Even after all these years, my mother still asks me to sample the dish when i am home. i guess it is the kind of blind love a mother has, hoping her daughter will one day grow up and stop being so silly.
On serious matters, i guess i try to be truthful. Well, most of the time. He knows by now that if he asks me something and i keep quiet, it means i would rather play dumb than lie. Which is hypocritical in a sense since i believe in being blunt and hand out unpleasant truths to all and sundry. But then, i am a hypocrite.
What am i talking about? i don't know. Sometimes, my thoughts resemble a bowl of salad - all mixed up. But a salad makes sense. While i don't.
i like to think i tell the truth when it counts. But doesn't truth count all the time? Oh hell, what is the point of having a brain that keeps counter-attacking your every statement?
Won't it be fun to die with a lie on your lips? Somebody, please save me from my rampaging thoughts.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
when conscience pricks....
Sometimes, it is difficult to decide what is the right thing to do. i have been plagued by my conscience - yes, i do have one, thank you - and i was so undecided about what to do. In the end, i did what i felt was right and maybe threw away a chance. But when you think about it, chances will come and go, but sleeping well at night, without your conscience nudging and poking you is well worth it.
i don't know where i am now - i am so satisfied with what i don't have that it scares me sometimes. Maybe that is what they call being laidback. Sometimes, nothing matters to me - i don't care that i don't have a job and sometimes, a voice inside me says i am wasting my life away. The problem with me is that i adjust too quickly to whatever that comes my way. So if tomorrow sees me wearing tatters and without a penny to my name, i guess you would still see me smile.
Sometimes i make decisions which no sane person would make and let life take me down a path that is uncharted. Leaving behind familiar faces and places is tough. Even tougher is getting familiar with yourself and the face that stares at you back in the mirror.
My mother always did say i will end up either being famous or mad!
i don't know where i am now - i am so satisfied with what i don't have that it scares me sometimes. Maybe that is what they call being laidback. Sometimes, nothing matters to me - i don't care that i don't have a job and sometimes, a voice inside me says i am wasting my life away. The problem with me is that i adjust too quickly to whatever that comes my way. So if tomorrow sees me wearing tatters and without a penny to my name, i guess you would still see me smile.
Sometimes i make decisions which no sane person would make and let life take me down a path that is uncharted. Leaving behind familiar faces and places is tough. Even tougher is getting familiar with yourself and the face that stares at you back in the mirror.
My mother always did say i will end up either being famous or mad!
Monday, April 20, 2009
susan boyle -- she has got talent!
She is supposedly the talk of the town right now. Her audition has been viewed some million times over on youtoube.
We watched her audition on TV - for the want of anything better to do, we were watching that particular episode of Britain got talent. It is a funny show - you get to watch some pretty weird characters - there was this fat woman who danced topless (and she got through!! talk about assets doing the trick!), an indian guy who blew up and burst a hot water balloon and dragged a truck with his ear....it is an endless parade of people who think they have got some extra-ordinary talent.
When she came on, we were like what will she be doing. Frizzy haired, ordinary looking. The audience did not take to her well - when she said she wanted to sing like Alan Paige, i believe people snickered. And then she opened her mouth to sing and like they say, history was created. When she sang, he and i looked at each other and giggled because we were not expecting such a performance. Umm, talk about judging a book by its cover.
Yeah, she can sing for her suppper. And what a supper it would be.
We watched her audition on TV - for the want of anything better to do, we were watching that particular episode of Britain got talent. It is a funny show - you get to watch some pretty weird characters - there was this fat woman who danced topless (and she got through!! talk about assets doing the trick!), an indian guy who blew up and burst a hot water balloon and dragged a truck with his ear....it is an endless parade of people who think they have got some extra-ordinary talent.
When she came on, we were like what will she be doing. Frizzy haired, ordinary looking. The audience did not take to her well - when she said she wanted to sing like Alan Paige, i believe people snickered. And then she opened her mouth to sing and like they say, history was created. When she sang, he and i looked at each other and giggled because we were not expecting such a performance. Umm, talk about judging a book by its cover.
Yeah, she can sing for her suppper. And what a supper it would be.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Amon ekta jhinuk....
i remember hearing this song the first time in my hostel room. It was one of S-di's fave gaan. And those were the days when the only bengali sentences/phrases i could speak was "bhat dao, dal dao, maach dao"! Even though i could not understand the lyrics, something about the song drew me to it.
Now, years later, i suddenly remembered this song, dug it up from the spidery web and discovered i still love it. This is the only song of Nirmala Mishra i have heard. i keep listening and singing along with it - trying to find that elusive oyster that has a pearl...
Amon ekta jhinuk khuje pelamna
Jate mukto ache
Amon kono manush khuje pelam na
Jar mon ache...
Shune gelam anek kotha
Anek golpo anek kotha
Amon ekti kotha khuje pelamna
Jate shotii ache
Pothe shudhu poth haralam
Niruddeshe gelamna
Bhalobasha anek pelam
bhalobasha pelamna...
Sapna anek gelam dekhe
Rod brishti namlo chokhe
Amon ekta asha khuje pelamna
Jar onto ache
Now, years later, i suddenly remembered this song, dug it up from the spidery web and discovered i still love it. This is the only song of Nirmala Mishra i have heard. i keep listening and singing along with it - trying to find that elusive oyster that has a pearl...
Amon ekta jhinuk khuje pelamna
Jate mukto ache
Amon kono manush khuje pelam na
Jar mon ache...
Shune gelam anek kotha
Anek golpo anek kotha
Amon ekti kotha khuje pelamna
Jate shotii ache
Pothe shudhu poth haralam
Niruddeshe gelamna
Bhalobasha anek pelam
bhalobasha pelamna...
Sapna anek gelam dekhe
Rod brishti namlo chokhe
Amon ekta asha khuje pelamna
Jar onto ache
Saturday, April 11, 2009
chinatown
It was a long, long weekend for him - i have a permanent long weekend! - and we decided to go visit chinatown. We woke up to a gloomy morning - it was drizzling. Surprising, i didn't behave like my usual self and hide under the blanket. i guess i was getting too tired of being inside the house and permanently attached to the bed!
So we braved the silly weather and went hunting for chinatown. My intentions were more culinary than touristy - i wanted to see if i could lay my hands on mustard leaves and chives and generally check out if i could recognise half of the things on display - which is one thing i love doing when i go to oriental stores.
So there we were, searching for this shop i saw on the net. Eagle-eyed creatures as we both are, we passed by it without noticing it, walked the whole length of chinatown (thank god, it was not big or i would have died) and came back to square one only to find the shop there!
i was over the moon to find so many vegetables and herbs from back home - ekaithabi (water weed), tenou maanbi (winged beans), awa phadigom, hanggam (mustard)...i was so excited, like a kid in a candy shop. After i circled the shop some 10 times, he had to drag me away! We bought veggies and duck - my favourite meat. Then we went for lunch at this chinese restuarant where they had peking ducks hanging in a row on the display window along with a squid. He wanted to have peking duck - i, the supposedly adventurous one, wanted to stick to fried rice. In the end, we had both. i didn't like the peking duck - it was bland. i was supposed to have it wrapped in the pancakes along with spring onion, cucumber and a sinister looking sauce. i got scared of the sauce, foregoed the duck and ended up eating all the cucumber strips!
So we braved the silly weather and went hunting for chinatown. My intentions were more culinary than touristy - i wanted to see if i could lay my hands on mustard leaves and chives and generally check out if i could recognise half of the things on display - which is one thing i love doing when i go to oriental stores.
So there we were, searching for this shop i saw on the net. Eagle-eyed creatures as we both are, we passed by it without noticing it, walked the whole length of chinatown (thank god, it was not big or i would have died) and came back to square one only to find the shop there!
i was over the moon to find so many vegetables and herbs from back home - ekaithabi (water weed), tenou maanbi (winged beans), awa phadigom, hanggam (mustard)...i was so excited, like a kid in a candy shop. After i circled the shop some 10 times, he had to drag me away! We bought veggies and duck - my favourite meat. Then we went for lunch at this chinese restuarant where they had peking ducks hanging in a row on the display window along with a squid. He wanted to have peking duck - i, the supposedly adventurous one, wanted to stick to fried rice. In the end, we had both. i didn't like the peking duck - it was bland. i was supposed to have it wrapped in the pancakes along with spring onion, cucumber and a sinister looking sauce. i got scared of the sauce, foregoed the duck and ended up eating all the cucumber strips!
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
A beautiful mind
The other day, they showed this movie on TV. I have read the book, thanks to Babachou who is my guide when it comes to books, and i quite enjoyed it. Somehow, movie adaptations of books always leave me cold and the fact that Russel Crowe played John Nash in the movie did nothing to entice me to watch it. He somehow did not seem capable of playing a schizophrenic Mathematician after watching him in Gladiator - ok, unfair because i only managed to stand 5 minutes of that film because it was gory.
Anyway, he wanted to watch it. He, to balance this relationship i suppose, does not like reading. He is the type who would download audio or video tapes just to save himself the trouble of reading! And i am the kind who would rather hug a book to sleep (or death).
OK, where was i? OK, the movie. It was a late night movie and since nothing interesting was there on the other channels worth fighting for the remote, we watched it. i, for a change, was nice enough to watch it along with him because i know it is no fun watching movies on your own - at least i don't enjoy watching movies alone. So kind of me. i really can be an angel at times!
And i actually ended up liking the movie. Maybe because i don't remember much of the book version!! Schizophrenia is such a frightening disease. Imagine conjuring up people and thinking they were real, when you cannot separate the real world from the imaginary, when you see non-existent things and people. Given the illusional/delusional world i sometimes inhibit, i believe i am an ideal candidate for it. i got spared somehow. Or maybe i just went beyond it and came out clean on the other side. One of the symptoms is loss of train of thoughts. My thinking process always keep getting derailed, or rather it branches off in myraid directions till i lose track of the original thought. hmmm...
Anyway, he wanted to watch it. He, to balance this relationship i suppose, does not like reading. He is the type who would download audio or video tapes just to save himself the trouble of reading! And i am the kind who would rather hug a book to sleep (or death).
OK, where was i? OK, the movie. It was a late night movie and since nothing interesting was there on the other channels worth fighting for the remote, we watched it. i, for a change, was nice enough to watch it along with him because i know it is no fun watching movies on your own - at least i don't enjoy watching movies alone. So kind of me. i really can be an angel at times!
And i actually ended up liking the movie. Maybe because i don't remember much of the book version!! Schizophrenia is such a frightening disease. Imagine conjuring up people and thinking they were real, when you cannot separate the real world from the imaginary, when you see non-existent things and people. Given the illusional/delusional world i sometimes inhibit, i believe i am an ideal candidate for it. i got spared somehow. Or maybe i just went beyond it and came out clean on the other side. One of the symptoms is loss of train of thoughts. My thinking process always keep getting derailed, or rather it branches off in myraid directions till i lose track of the original thought. hmmm...
..the gypsy returns
After precisely 4 months and 10 days, i come out of hibernation. Why i went into it in the first place i have no idea - that is one of the things that makes me me! It is just like the time i decided not to touch aerated drinks ever - not so much for health reasons but just to test myself because i was so fond of it. How do you reason with such perfect logic?
4 months and 10 days, here i am - jobless, clueless but hopefully not aimless! i gave up my job without even ensuring i have something to fall back on - so typical of me. And that too in the current hopeless market! It was to follow him to another country - not his fault, i wanted to get away from life and he indulged me. You know, sometimes i breeze through life behaving as if everything would work out for me, that nothing could go wrong. Did i expect to land a job? Yes - i have so inflated a sense of confidence in myself! i was a bit disappointed when nothing worked out the first two weeks - i have been "unemployed" for exactly a month now. There is something to be said about waking up to days when you know you will have nothing to do, no worries about getting late for office, eating lunch at 3, taking your bath at 4, watching quiz shows after quiz shows!
i have decided not to try for a job. Just sit at home and vegetate. And write. i am trying my hands at freelance writing and getting quite a kick out of it. i got myself registered at this site where i had to take a grammar test (the questions made me feel as if they were expecting someone semi-illiterate!) and write a review on Frank Kafka's A country doctor. It was fun, i got selected (was there any doubt about it?) and i have successfully written and delivered three articles - the topic ranging from a summary of an article on the effect of plucking whiskers of rats on layer IV and V neurons (i completed it in about 5 hours - actually wrote a summary of an article that i could not make head or tail of which speaks volumes of my writing skills!!!!) to an article on Hashimoto's thyroiditis (an autoimmune disease).
You know, life is funny. It takes you to places you never thought you would frequent, situations you never thought you would be in. The sum total of all these experiences - is that what would make up the meaning of life? Is accepting things as they come the key to happiness? They say you have to fight to get the things you want. The trouble is trying to figure out what is worth fighting for. Sometimes i wonder whether this is the start of a new beginning - and that makes me feel it is useless to be frustrated about not having a job. i miss the project, i miss nagging the kids. Sometimes, i worry about how things are without me. But i guess there is a sense of detachment setting in. Maybe it was time to let go. Maybe i will find my new calling. And maybe, just maybe, this restlessness inside me will subside.
i don't know whether i would go back not to not wanting to share my thoughts. Or maybe i will be like old times and pour out my tales of woe to anyone who would care to read.
4 months and 10 days, here i am - jobless, clueless but hopefully not aimless! i gave up my job without even ensuring i have something to fall back on - so typical of me. And that too in the current hopeless market! It was to follow him to another country - not his fault, i wanted to get away from life and he indulged me. You know, sometimes i breeze through life behaving as if everything would work out for me, that nothing could go wrong. Did i expect to land a job? Yes - i have so inflated a sense of confidence in myself! i was a bit disappointed when nothing worked out the first two weeks - i have been "unemployed" for exactly a month now. There is something to be said about waking up to days when you know you will have nothing to do, no worries about getting late for office, eating lunch at 3, taking your bath at 4, watching quiz shows after quiz shows!
i have decided not to try for a job. Just sit at home and vegetate. And write. i am trying my hands at freelance writing and getting quite a kick out of it. i got myself registered at this site where i had to take a grammar test (the questions made me feel as if they were expecting someone semi-illiterate!) and write a review on Frank Kafka's A country doctor. It was fun, i got selected (was there any doubt about it?) and i have successfully written and delivered three articles - the topic ranging from a summary of an article on the effect of plucking whiskers of rats on layer IV and V neurons (i completed it in about 5 hours - actually wrote a summary of an article that i could not make head or tail of which speaks volumes of my writing skills!!!!) to an article on Hashimoto's thyroiditis (an autoimmune disease).
You know, life is funny. It takes you to places you never thought you would frequent, situations you never thought you would be in. The sum total of all these experiences - is that what would make up the meaning of life? Is accepting things as they come the key to happiness? They say you have to fight to get the things you want. The trouble is trying to figure out what is worth fighting for. Sometimes i wonder whether this is the start of a new beginning - and that makes me feel it is useless to be frustrated about not having a job. i miss the project, i miss nagging the kids. Sometimes, i worry about how things are without me. But i guess there is a sense of detachment setting in. Maybe it was time to let go. Maybe i will find my new calling. And maybe, just maybe, this restlessness inside me will subside.
i don't know whether i would go back not to not wanting to share my thoughts. Or maybe i will be like old times and pour out my tales of woe to anyone who would care to read.
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