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!

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.

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...

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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.

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!!!

ghore pherar gaan

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i was introduced to Mohiner Ghoraguli by K with whom i share the love of Ghulam Ali's ghazals and bengali bands. This song is beautiful. Ghore pherar gaan (roughly translated as 'the song of returning home').

ami gai
ghore pherar gaan
utola keno ei pran
shudhu je dake
phire amake
bidesh bibhui-e pore achhi
tobu chhare na keno chhare na
pichhutan
ami tai
ekhono klantihin
cholechi ratridin
shuni chomke
jai thomke
kotha hote jeno bheshe ashe
sur chena khub chena
mono majhe amolin

phirbo bole phera jae naki
periyechho desh kal janona ki, ei shomoy?
ekhono shamne poth hata baki
chaileo dite parbe na faaki, nishchoy

It opens the wound of staying away from home - you miss it so much but still, you choose to stay away lured by things which, in the end, would not matter. And so i am in exile - voluntary exile. But the pain is the same.

". . . You will leave everything you love most:
this is the arrow that the bow of exile
shoots first. You will know how salty
another's bread tastes and how hard it
is to ascend and descend
another's stairs . . ."
--Dante's the divine comedy

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.

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.

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!!

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.