Half Sweet n' Half Nuts

In case you hadn't figured it out already...

2008-11-22T11:29:00.000-08:00

I'm outta here ... for now :)

What can I say ... blogging feels soooo last season! ;)

Lol!

A humble Hats Off!

2008-10-05T15:42:00.000-07:00

Do you remember the scene in Kal Ho Na Ho, when Preity's character mentions she will be having her friend (i.e. Saif) over for dinner and her grandmother eagerly asks "Punjabi hai?". When she's told he's Gujrati, the daadi, with all her disdain, says "Oh! Wo toh vegetarian honde hain!".

I'm sure every true-blooded Punjabi had a good laugh at that scene. I know I found it hilarious. You see, we Punjus are a wee bit arrogant about our love for the good stuff in life. We love our meat and our alcohol. We're loud and rowdy and generally look for a good time without really caring about what may or may not be OK by anyone else's standards.

Yesterday I had a humbling experience, as a Punjabi. And a delightful, fun evening as an Indian in America.

For one, I realized, Gujratis, vegetarian or not, are definitely one up on us Punjus! In a lot of ways we're very similar. Both communities are colorful, fun loving and humorous. I might even grant that we're equally flashy in our festivities, be it a wedding or a puja. While we Punjus definitely make our presence known wherever we go with our volume, the Gujjus are a lot more soft spoken. But the one arena where the Gujjus are definitely one up on the Punjus is their Garba Raas.

Yup, I went for a Garba night last night. And seriously, WOW!!! I had so much fun!! Damn, they sure know how to dance! Without alcohol!! Double damn! Vegetarian or not, they sure know how to party! They dance with total abandonment and joyous frenzy. The energy in the air is palpable. It was really quite exhilarating. And, believe me, it's strenuous. I was so out of breath for the most part, it was embarrassing. It needs a lot of co-ordination and a lot of stamina. They twirl the dandias over theirs heads effortlessly all the time maintaining sync with the others in the circle. I don't think we Punjus could ever have such a ball without being thoroughly drunk and maintaining form like that while dancing is just impossible! We're better off free style methinks :)

Don't get me wrong. I'm a proud Punju and I love everything about being a Punju, including the loudness. And I know our dances are super skilled too (err... seriously, you should see a professional bhangra performance!). But yesterday I had a lot of fun doing something that was new and different for me and I had to let the Punju in me grudgingly accept that the Gujjus are one helluva community! Trust me, we Punjus never like to think of anyone as half as good as we are at partying so this is big :)

And I have to say something about the clothes. This may be the Americanized part of me talking but the lehengas are so beautiful. There were so many colors, everything glittered and shone. Everything pretty and bright and just lovely. I had forgotten how colorful we Indians are in general. Shopping in Americans stores for the last couple of years I had forgotten what a treat to the eye all that color can be. As for me, I got to wear my lehenga after 4+ years. Sigh! I feel so pretty just holding it :) It is, of course, in tatters now as it was unable to take all the jumping around I did last night :P You know what that means? I"m going shopping for a new one the next time in India! Hahahahahaha!! Yaay!

I'm so going back in two weeks to the next event!! LOL! What fun!

Seasons

2008-09-29T23:02:00.000-07:00

Tree lined streets lose their emerald robes
For a brighter crimson hue
Before they face the winter cold
In all their glory, nude.

A Whole New Girl....

2008-09-21T03:11:00.000-07:00

A new fantastic girl I am!!

I'm 28 today.

And drunk.

But not drunk enough.

Oh! So happy!

Unreasonably happy!

Maybe 'coz I'm too drunk!

I'm also sad 'coz have no one to share so much happiness with ..

Lonely.

Way too lonely.

May be 'coz I'm not drunk enough...

please don't ruin this with a comment....

Never say "Never!"

2008-08-28T14:04:00.000-07:00

On Wednesday night I had a dinner date.

No biggie.

On Wednesday night I had a dinner date with a guy whom I was introduced to through ... shaadi.com!!!

My reaction .... Wow!! Wow! Just Wow!

I actually went and met someone that I got to know through a matrimonial website! I'm still in shock I think.

In all fairness, I did have a surprisingly good time. He is a really nice, normal, well mannered, interesting, funny guy. It was easy talking to him. It was comfortable. I had been "talking" to him online for a little over a week before we met and we had done the usual ritualistic exchange of photographs so it wasn't a complete blind date. It also wasn't anywhere near as bad as I had thought such situations would be.

Ok! Ok! So I was wrong. When I'm wrong I admit it!

So not everyone who goes through these sites is a socially inept loser who couldn't get a person to marry them. And the "beta chai pilao" scene does not have to be a part of your life if you don't want it to. It can be, quite simply, just another medium to meet other singles out there; maybe even make some friends in the process. Ok! Fine, on second thoughts, maybe the making friends part is overly optimistic.

Coming back to me and my life drama... I met yet another guy... (Is this blog turning into an online chronicle of all the "guys" I seem to meet through random circumstances? I think so..) but moving on.

No I don't know if or when I'll see him again. Yes, I think we seemed to hit it off. No, I don't know what happens next. Yes, he called a day later and we're still talking/SMS'ing/emailing. Yes, I'm doing ok... thanks for asking!

I'm still adjusting to the whole idea but it doesn't seem quite as bad as I had thought it might be. I'm only afraid of being a softy as usual and getting too attached too soon and then being disappointed. So I'm trying to keep my distance this time. It's tough 'coz he's really easy to talk to and very similar to me in his interests/likes/dislikes. But I think the fact that all of this is a calculated procedure to hitch people up kind of helps keeps things in perspective.

What happens to my stubborn faith that I will get my chance at finding love by just bumping into Mr. Right, looking into his eyes and just knowing this is it? Do I still believe that such love stories exist outside the realm of the movies? I'm not so sure any more. Maybe this is my story. Nothing more, nothing less. Maybe there are no stories and we only wish there were. Or maybe it's just not meant to be for me. Who knows?

If I'm going to do this I have to do this with an open mind and I need to give this guy an honest chance. That's all I'm doing. If this is to be my story... so be it :)

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I wrote the part above a day or so ago... I just got back from a high school classmate's engagement party.. it was a fun evening. The bride to be was drunk and quite simply overjoyed (touch wood!). She was truly the life of the party. I only hope I can be just as happy when I'm getting married.

Makes me wonder if I have really given up on my dreams for my love story just yet... maybe not I guess... but are the God's listening?!

Lots of love to her! I hope she stays this happy forever! Muuaaah!

Addicted!

2008-08-27T03:59:00.001-07:00

For the past few days I’ve been reacquainting myself with an old addiction of mine. Like an old friend come to visit, it feels familiar yet not quite the same. Well to be honest I’ve allowed it to seep back into my life after a very long time, mostly to see if I have finally built up a resistance to it. Have I? I'm not so sure.

Even now I can feel myself craving my fix, just like I used to. I think I'm a sucker for punishment; that I willingly let myself get swept away with the agony of craving what I know to be worst for me. But, like any addict, I deny the hold this addiction has over me and hope this time is different.

Then again, maybe this time it is different. For one, now I can identify what triggers my cravings. I'm aware of how exactly a scenario is going to play out. I know how bad it will turn out and I can use humor to stay away from falling into the same trap all over again. I can laugh off my cravings and no matter how tempting it is right now to give in to them, I know it's not worth the struggle and pain that will follow. I can see that now. And I can hold on to that knowledge to play with my addiction and test my resistance.

It's like a cruel game that I like playing with myself. How much is too much?

I think when past addictions take the shape of present nightmares it's time to call it quits. I could be living my biggest fear every moment of every day and that, trust me, is not a nice way to live. All because this game that I am playing could takeover every conscious thought I have and it scares the hell out of me.

Don't worry I'm not an AA member or a coke head! I'm not even manic depressive or any sort of maniac. I'm just a girl trying to figure out my path through life.

I'm watching life pass me by; friends and loved ones moving on to bigger things in life, leaving me behind. I don't for a moment grudge them their happiness, far from it. I only crave my piece of this pie called Happiness and it tempts me endlessly to give up my cynicism and believe that maybe someday it will be mine to savor.

But the fear of facing another disappointment holds something inside me tightly locked away. And yet the temptations continue. The thrill of possibilities and anticipation overpowers the voice of caution and I teeter on the edge of reason.

I wonder if I can stay strong and keep my head on my shoulders or if I’ll give in to the temptation to risk everything and go crazy again… I do not know. Only time will tell.

Brainless Idiots!

2008-08-10T11:49:00.000-07:00

Right now I'm very irritated with all the men of the world. All of them. If you're one of them don't even bothering defending yourself 'coz right now there is absolutely no point.

Why can't you brainless idiots just keeps things straight in your head? You're supposed to be in love with your girl friend and very fond of you other female friends. And yes you can have female friends who you don't have to be attracted to. You can be just friends. More so if you have an amazing girl friend.

"Just friends" means you don't want to think about them in any way that isn't for the most part gender neutral. Look up the word platonic and stop thinking through your @#$*#@!! "Really good friends" means the girl probably trusts you enough to go out drinking with you and get totally hammered and she does not expect to hear how marvelous you think she is and get hit on. She tells you all her stories and she does not expect you to use them to try and play mind games with her in an effort to show her just how well you know her! If you knew her at all you would realize that the instant you even considered straying from amazing girl friends side and crossed that fine line into "cheating"... you just lost your friend.

And what the hell does "I really love my girl friend but I can't help think about you" mean??!!
Gaaah!! Grrr!!!

And most of all I hate playing the moral police to a friend just because I don't want to see him regret anything the next morning and I really care for him and his girl friend a lot.

Men!! You're all dumb asses! Affection for you will always only take a single form and you're never going to be as emotionally evolved as us women. Can't you see how great it is to be just friends with someone and not think of them like that?!

I'm exasperated!

PS - This isn't about me or any of my guy friends... just something I heard from a really close friend of mine. My friends are just darlings and I really do love them all a lot... on most days. Just not right now though...

Single Original Thought

2008-08-03T02:06:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I wrote anything at all. It isn't all about the lack of time or the energy to write. It's more a case of not having a single original thought in a while. Nothing worth writing about that is.

In all honesty I haven't read any of the other blogs in a while either, but that is only because of lack of time.

I flew out to see a friend this morning, quite literally at a moments notice. I have huge plans to spend huge amounts of money over the next few months. Money I'm not sure I have actually. Yet spend it I will and in spite of this predicament I'm still being whimsical and flighty, taking last minute trips to see friends that too quite unnecessarily. How will I manage the next few months? I have no idea.

I'm being sucked into a black hole of workaholism. Nothing seems to matter as much anymore. It's given me a purpose to live through each day, even though I do nothing really critical or life changing. I am getting paid good money which I have no time to spend. Yet not enough for all the plans that are in my head. Plans that I don't have enough money or time for.

Time. It feels like I'm running out of time. It feels as if the end of this year will bring with it the end of a lifetime. I don't know what I'm babbling about at the moment but there is just so much to do before this year ends and I feel like I need to be in too many places at once and there just isn't enough of me to go around.

This isn't the life I had worked or planned for. It's not like I had wanted too much more out of life. But maybe I wanted something different. Am I unhappy? Not really. So does it matter that what I had wanted isn't what I got? May be it does. May be it doesn't.

Maybe its time for me to put away the wine and go to sleep :)

Oh! And before I forget -- the thought that inspired me to write today - I realized something last night. I can be a write at any stage of my life. It is the one plan that I don't need to put a time limit or constraint on. I can be married or single, busy as a bee or jobless, I can be young or old, I can be anything and I can still be a writer. How awesome is that?

Druken Truths and Death of Innocence

2008-07-05T07:27:00.000-07:00

Girne do
Girne do tum mujhe, mera saagar sambhal lo
Itna toh mere yaar karo...
Main nashe mein hu...
...
Phir bekhudi mein hadd se guzarne laga hu main
Phir bekhudi mein hadd se guzarne laga hu main
Itna na mujhse pyaar karo...
Main nashe mein hu...

- Jagjit Singh, Main nashe mein hu

To be free, free from the shackles of the mind and fears of the soul. To be free of a broken heart and a long lost innocence. To live like a newborn oblivious to sorrow, at peace with the belief that something magical can happen at any time.

Footloose and fancy free without a care in the world.

There is an innocence about one’s first love. A purity that gets lost somewhere along the way. There is hope and magic. Everything about it is mystical and fantastic.

A glance, his hand brushing against yours, a smile, an acknowledgment. Just a single moment of connection can make your day. Nothing in the world seems to matter as much. You walk with stars in your eyes and your head in the clouds. The world is truly a beautiful place.

The first heartbreak is the cruelest. Undeniably, every break up is hard but I believe the first heart break kills a part of your soul. It kills the mystique behind perfect love. It leaves you a different person, saddened, hardened and more than a little jaded.

Love will never be the same again.

Every person you meet henceforth will at some level be scrutinized, critically analyzed, and maybe even judged unfairly, in fear of another broken heart. Every future relationship will be embarked upon after just a wee bit of rationalization; such is the dread of another mishap of the heart.

Maybe it’s a season of young love, with movies like Jaane Tu... being plastered all over the place. Or, maybe I‘m just old and grouchy. Whatever the reason, I can’t seem to shake off a strange wistfulness and wish my first love had been forever. It’s not the person I desire, but the idea, rather the idealism behind such a concept as true love forever.

Or maybe I just regret the death of innocence.

The mind wanders...

2008-07-03T21:47:00.000-07:00

I like my name. I like the sound of it and the meaning, I like the fact that it's unusual yet not unheard of. I like that the Americans have a little trouble pronouncing it the first few times because the sound of it is alien to them, yet it's easy enough for them to get the hang of, if they try.

Being a workaholic may not be so bad after all. I like feeling like I'm the martyr. I like having to work inhuman hours so that I can feel sorry for myself and pamper myself later. Not to mention the sympathy vote I get from friends and family and the stamp of approval from the boss! But more that that I like having a job where I feel needed and useful. Am I weird?

Of course I'm weird. Everyone who is even a little normal likes to believe they're weird! How can I be any different? hee! hee!

Flirting is fun. Online, on the phone or in person, it's always fun. And, in my opinion, harmless fun. But it gets stale after a while if there is no real depth. Don't ask me to explain that. On second thoughts, I just may have ADD.

There is a pattern to my psychosis. Every time someone close to me hurts me I pull away just to see if that person will try to pull me back. Most of the time, they don't. But every now and then someone does... And leaves me surprised.

But then again, I believe some wounds never really heal completely. They leave behind scars that mar the beauty of the relationship for life. That's just how it is.

I'm in no mood to be ponderous or profound really but I can't seem to help myself. Why can't I be more humorous? Or witty? Or (while I'm at it) rich and gorgeous?!

I'm really jealous of people who can write beautiful poetry. In any language. I wish I could too. Something deep and meaningful and not trite and amateurish. Maybe someday...

Things might just be taking a turn for the better. I don't want to jinx it but everything seems to be on the upswing. Will this year be better than last year? I know it's the middle of 2008 but it's been a year since the present chapter of my life started (graduation, new car, new job, new life) and things right now are so much more stable and comfortable than they were last year. Touch wood!

I'm going to go now ...

C'est La Vie!

2008-06-20T00:46:00.000-07:00

She walked down the aisle in virginal white, glowing with pure joy. There was innocence in those eyes, and in that face veiled with delicate gossamer lace a blush crept up her cheeks as she shyly looked at the man waiting for her. She was the epitome of beauty, youth, grace and love. She was the bride every girl aspired to be because Hollywood had made her out of a children’s bed time fairy tale. She was perfect in every sense of the word.

That is the movies.

Closer to home and closer to reality, most weddings I have been to are just as awe inspiring. Every girl in the wedding hall is fussing over how she looks until the bride makes her grand entrance. At that moment, they all stop in their tracks to admire her. It may not be a celluloid fantasy, but everything at that moment is a dream. Of course they’re going to bitch about the color of her wedding dress and the obscene gold jewellery and the horrendous make up, after they go home exhausted from feasting their eyes on someone’s dream come true. But for that one moment, they’re simply envious.

Personally I would trade the white bridal gown and pearls for a flaming red lehenga and glittering kundan jewellery in any lifetime. But beyond the colors, the blush of the bride is the same. The hopes and fears, the love and faith, the innocence and shyness transcend borders and cultures. And no matter how much envy the bride invokes in the heart of every single girl struck breathless by her beauty every one of those girls truly wishes the best for her from the bottom of the heart. You see, we girls are big suckers for the “happily-ever-after” myth and even in our best wishes for the bride there is an ulterior motive to see the young couple happy forever. We don’t want to lose our faith in fairy tale romances.

Undoubtedly, weddings are for the bride. It is the one occasion where she the princess holding the attention of every person in the room. And if you guys haven’t figured it out yet this, this post too is all about us women. So if you aren’t bored already you may want to scram now! Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you!

A very dear friend of mine once said every single Indian girl blogger over the age of 25 definitely has at least one post whining about the pressures of being single and how or why she is just not ready to tie the knot yet. He (of course it was a guy) believed it was a self defense mechanism; apparently it is our way of crying to the world that we’re not unhappy or dissatisfied, we’re alone because we chose to be! Well this isn’t another anti-marriage brigade rant. This is more of a wistful sigh and maybe a few honest admissions of regret.

You see, I know I will never be that blushing bride. I’m not saying I’ll never get married. But there is something that makes me believe I could never be an innocent blushing bride. Aging is a reality and innocence is a fickle friend. The softness gets lost over the years somehow and no matter hard you try, independence and choosing to be alone leaves you jaded. I still hope I’ll be happy of course. But that is about it. Therefore I sigh! Wistfully!

I don’t know how many of you guessed it but this post has in part been inspired by the movie Sex and the City. It got me thinking, that if I were Carrie and I were marrying the love of my life at 40, would I really want all the pomp and show? Or would I be content with a small party of my closest friends? I think that’s how I now know that the blushes aren’t in me! And I don’t mean to be self-pitying either!

Now for the honest admissions.

The movie (just as we all expected) is about finding true love and making it work out. But it is also about friendships. It’s about strong unbeatable life long friendships that are constant and unchanging. BFF Girlfriends are definitely the best!

(Warning! What comes next is definitely going to hurt some people!)

The other thing that I realized while watching this movie was that I don’t think I can ever be a friend like that nor do I think I have any such friends. Don’t get me wrong. My friends are beautiful angels who I truly believe are sent by God to look over me. But I can't think of anyone I have known in the last 20 years of my life who has been there with me through it all the way Carrie and her friends stick with each other. And I certainly don't believe I can realistically expect any of them will be around for the next 20 either.

As I sat through the movie, and as I sit writing this post, I realized that no single friendship can be so intransient. Mostly it’s the logistics of our lives. Friends are people too, people who get busy with their lives and move away. They have every right to take decisions based on how they feel and not based on how I feel. Most importantly I need to realize is that I pin all my hopes for the joys of my life on them and when they buckle under the pressures of my expectations I’m left brokenhearted. I need to give them their space and learn to stand by myself without them.

In all I need to realize just like true love, true friendships may also be a myth sold to us by the movies. Reality is a lot more impractical. And so as I walked out of the movie I realized I may never have a fairy tale romance or a story book wedding or superhuman friends. I may even be alone right now because my beautiful friends have moved on and now live their own lives far away. But I can still be happy for the great times I have had with them. And I can be hopeful for a city hall wedding to the love of my life with just a handful of loved ones even if I’m 40!

C'est La Vie!

Lost at sea

2008-06-18T00:19:00.000-07:00

Ancient vessel, lost at sea
Adrift beneath those countless stars
Her ghost crew doth often sings
A few timeless, melancholic bars

Alone, beneath the moon so white
Through storms and ocean gales
Her sail aflutter, as if a shroud
Her horn a silent wail

No living being lays eyes on her
No saint, nor buccaneer
If thou dost see her, in thy journeys far
Know that thy end is near

.......... blank! ..............

2008-06-15T13:26:00.000-07:00

Am I imagining this or is (my) Blogworld dying of boredom?!

*(Almost)* No one seems to blog any more and I just can't think of anything to write about either ..... hmmm .....

O well! Short story up on the other blog ...

The Annual Homecoming Rant....

2008-05-28T22:41:00.000-07:00

The last three weeks have convinced me that the airplane is not just a modern technological marvel intended to cover large distances at super fast speeds. It’s a lot more than that. It’s an inter-planetary cum time travel magical something which can warp one’s sense of reality in a matter of hours.

There are innumerable differences between India and the USA; I don’t need to re-iterate those. The differences between my life there and my life here, however, are mind boggling! In fact I’m sure both lives cannot exist on the same planet in the same age. I am the same person in both places, but then again not quite. I’m not quite certain which is more “home” to me so to avoid confusion I’m going to refer to my home in India as “there” and my home in LA as “here”, simply because I’m blogging from LA at the moment.

Over there I’m the kid without a care. I simply ask for anything I want and I get it, be it a glass of water or money for a night out. I don’t drive; never have and doubt I ever will. I don’t need to worry about what is for dinner or when to do my laundry. More than the trivial chores, it’s my attitude. I am blissfully childish. I lie in mom’s lap, I cuddle up to dad, I whine and complain, and I talk nineteen to the dozen about everyone I have known and met as if I just got back from my first day at school. I'm truly without a care in the world.

Here it's a completely different story. It's not just that I have bills to pay or that I need to do my chores myself or that I'm responsible for feeding myself. It's somehow a lot more than that. I'm a thinking, working, responsible adult here. I'm a lot more aware of my surroundings. I pay attention to details because I know it's necessary for me to survive. When I go about my daily chores, I'm not just helping out mom, I'm doing my work. If I don't do the laundry, it won't get done magically; I'll eventually run out of clothes to wear!

While it’s true that when I’m here I often crave the pampered life of a child, it is also true that when I come back here I do breathe a sigh of a relief. Don't misunderstand me - I love my family and friends and my country. But it's a lot easier to be my own person here, even though nothing is restricted or frowned upon by my folks there and I can do as I please. But while nothing is handed to me on a platter over here, there is still an independence that comes with the responsibility, which is liberating.

All my life it seemed like I was destined to be a rolling stone, never really stopping anywhere for more than a couple of years. I was a boarding school kid right from Elementary School. After I left the school I had studied in for 10 yrs, my last 2 years of High School were spent in a different Boarding School, followed by 5 years in Delhi (undergraduate college and my first job). In those 5 years I changed homes 4 times. After that I spent a little over a year in Chennai, a little less than a year in Seattle and finally I've been in LA for the last two years.

It's not surprising that I have never thought of the town/village where my parents lived and where I was born as my hometown. Other than a few of my parents’ friends I know no one from there and as a child (probably after the age of three) I never spent more than a couple of months in year there. In fact, over the last few years, I haven't been there for more than a couple of weeks in a year.

Since it was in Delhi that I really made the transition from teenager to adult and since it's the city I have lived longest in, I always thought of it as my hometown. The city of my first school doesn't really count since we got to leave the school boundaries (just for the day) only three or four times in a year. I've loved Delhi the way I could never love any other city. I'm not quite melodramatic enough to equate my love for the city to my love for my mother, but I do agree that it's a bond that can't be logically explained. I know its faults and weaknesses. Today I may not even like what I see. But I still inexplicably love it. I can't explain it any better.

My trip this time was not all a bed of roses. It was in fact scary and heartbreaking. There is an age, somewhere around 10 or 12 maybe, when you realize that your parents don’t have all the answers. And then there is an age, probably in your late teens if you grew up slow like me, when you find out that your parents are not even always right. They’re just as human as the rest of the world; they can be misinformed and even worse, that they can make mistakes. And then comes an age, which is right about now for me, when you realize you can’t always be the child and you have to be the adult in the family and take care of your parents in stead of expecting them to take care of you as they always have been.

I realized that I had changed from when I had left and what I had left behind had changed as well. My life there was changing within the walls of my home as well as outside. Outside my home, on the streets of Delhi, the despairs and frustrations were a lot more visible to me. The city that was bursting at its seams with people fighting every minute of every day to get a little space for themselves was not the city where I had found my identity. Today I'm not one of its teeming millions, I feel alien. What shocked me most was our driver re-iterating, like a mantra, a dozen times a day, "iss city mein dhamaka hona chahiye! Sab saaf ho jayega! Hum mar bhi jaye toh koi problem nahi, aane waalo ko toh jageh milegi! ... Airport se Noida tak ek bada sa bomb blast ho jaye.. bas!". (This city needs an explosion. It will clean up everything. Even if we die, I don’t care, at least those who come after us will find place to walk! … just one big bomb to clean up everything from the airport till Noida.)

It was amusing yet scary at the same time. If this is what the common man on the roads of Delhi feels what hope can there be?!

I don't mean to diss the city or its people. These were just my experiences while I was there and it was probably more because of how much I had changed rather than my family, or Delhi, or its people. All the same, my illusion was shattered. And it became a lot easier to decide that I couldn’t go back. I know my parents needed someone to be with them. But that’s a luxury I couldn’t afford. The sad truth was I would be more useful doing something with my life in LA in stead of doing nothing in the village that time and civilization forgot on the pretext of looking after them. I was tired of living my life of a nomad and I had finally found my corner in the world but it was nowhere near where I was born. Would it be easy living miles away from my family and my country? Definitely not. Is the smart thing to do? Only time will tell. Is the right thing to do? I don't know, but I do know it's the only thing I can do to be happy and make my parents proud. Am I being selfish? I don't think so, though I know many will disagree.

They say home is where the heart is. I think my heart is, at the moment, somewhere in Spain, drinking in the beauty of Madrid. Or maybe just drinking in London! Hehehe!

I guess that explains why when I was landing I was confused about whether I was returning home or coming back from home. Sigh!

To the City I Once Called Home

2008-05-25T11:28:00.000-07:00

Smells and sounds, dazed and dizzy
You were everything I had hoped you’d be
Voices, noises, heady, giddy
Life lived to the fullest, undoubtedly

Pot-holed roads on tree-lined streets
Bustling crowds, busy beats
Sun tanned faces, rushing feet
Smiles and wiles, and everything in between

Home to my dearest friends
Angels who looked over me
Home to the boys and men
Who once vowed their true love to me

In you I found myself
Became the person I was to be
Among your teeming millions, in anonymity
I learned who I was, found my identity

You welcomed me, then owned me
You touched me, molded me
Hurt me, forgot me, lost me, scarred me,
Then lovingly held me, wept as you healed me

But nobody smiles on your roads today
They’re too busy fighting for every inch they see
They’re thirsty, blood thirsty, running crazy
After mirages of gold that cannot be

You have no more to give,
Yet you welcome them all
And they try to transform you, so more
May find a place in your folds

Oh Delhi! What have you come to be?
You’re ravaged and torn, left open to bleed
Your spirit is dying, your soul diseased
But nobody cares, not even me.

I leave you today, to your destiny
Your last revelation, is the coward in me
I haven’t the strength to return to you, Delhi
I’m running away, scared, forgive me.

Lazy Sundays

2008-04-24T21:50:00.000-07:00

My to-do list at the moment is endless. My plans for today were complex and eventful. All of last week I was supposed to be working as a volunteer for the Indian Film Festival, Los Angeles (IFFLA) but my sore throat made that impossible. I did however manage to go and help out on Friday and Saturday till my head hurt and my feet just wanted to fall of. I was supposed to be there all day today as well, for the final days program and Closing Night Gala. Being ill also means my home hasn't been cleaned all week, I had dishes piled up in the sink, a mountain of laundry to be done and tons of mail to catch up with. Add to that since I'm going home in less than a week, I have gifts to buy and wrap, packing to be done, luggage zippers to fix and my dad's surprise birthday party to organize from 8,000 miles away.

It's not surprising that I was stressed out and exhausted.

I woke up and just didn't want to get out of bed, and you don't need a therapist to tell you that is not a good thing! So I called up the volunteer coordinator at IFFLA, this really fun girl I am glad I had the chance to work with, and pleaded sickness and got out of working. I know I know. I'm bad. What can I say?

I was supposed to tackle my chores today, eat healthy and organize my life a little. Instead I have spent all day stretched out on my bean bag with a steadily accumulating pile of junk of food by my side, watching one silly movie on TV after another. Pure bliss!

The last couple of days have been quite an experience. They taught me a little bit about myself and about social dynamics. The film festival was a first for me. It was unfortunate that I couldn't be a part of it from the beginning. As a result all the other people involved with the festival had already developed that camaraderie amongst themselves that comes when people put in a lot of hours working very hard together. It isn't easy being a first timer and a stranger to everyone.

I had always thought of myself as a confident, outgoing, fun person. Being in a situation completely alien to my comfort zone made me realize how untrue that is. Being at ease amongst people you can relate to is very different from being amongst people who have a completely different thought process and lifestyle. I was surprised to find myself tongue tied for a large part of those two days. I was, as one of the guys aptly described me as, a fly on the wall - you wouldn't even know I was there! I just stood back and listened and let myself absorb all of it. I would have names dropped if I could, but the truth is I really didn't meet anyone famous. I saw a couple of known names, maybe even checked them in at some event... but nothing more really. Nothing worth boasting about :)

I guess you could say it wasn't quite as much fun as I had hoped it would. I met some nice interesting people but I doubt I'll see any of them again. But then again you never know! All in all, not too bad!

And so, dear reader, it came to be that I embraced the lazy side of life and spent all day today being true to the couch potato in me! He! He! He! Lazy Sundays are simply the best!

Have I told you ...

2008-04-19T00:05:00.000-07:00

- that work is crazy insane .. Again!!!

- that I have had a sore throat and low grade fever for 2 days now but it's the fact that I can't take off from work and wallow in my misery that's making me feel infinitely worse!

- that last week I had the best weekend ever in the longest time ever!

- that I sometimes just want to yell out to everyone and no one in particular! I want to say - "NO! I shan't! That is your problem and I just don't care!"

- That in spite of being bugged as hell I will still go out of my way and do all I can to keep everyone happy. Not because I'm a saint but because I hate going on guilt trips or being thought of as a heartless bitch. You see, as usual, it's always about me!

- that the guy I wrote about in my last post is soooo yesterday's news!

- that I'm jealous that my friends are healthier, getting slimmer and finding their way to love. I feel old and fat and quite depressed about being old and fat. But much more than that I'm lazy so I wont do anything about either except whine on my blog.

- I have two stories in my head that are just dying to come out but there is huge amounts of laziness stopping them from being written.

- that I'm finishing a year at my job next month and I'm really really really hoping for a raise...

- that nothing really matters to me right now because .... I'm finally going home in two weeks and I'm ecstatic about it! Yaaaaayyyy!!

Games we play...

2008-04-09T21:57:00.000-07:00

I met a guy. Just another guy. Nothing special about meeting him. No bells were ringing and the crowds around us did not break into song and dance. All in all, just another guy that I happened to meet at just another occassion.

A day later, he emails. A very bland, matter-of-fact email, with the usual "nice-to-meet-you" kind of lines and a bait hidden deep within to see if I respond favorably.

I know, just looking at the lines on my screen that my acquaintance with this person can move in completely different directions, solely based on how I choose to respond. If I'm polite but aloof, he'll be just another guy I met one time. If I'm light-hearted and pleasant, he might be someone I could be good friends with someday. If I take the bait and give him a little leeway, the emails will take on a whole new meaning.

I think about this guy for a minute. The email is pretty decent and not anything like "I want to make fransip with you" which is why I'm even thinking about this at all. It's well written and grammatically correct, a few punctuation mistakes notwithstanding, so he gets bonus points for that. He was pretty decent to talk to, easy to relate to, easy to get along with, from what I could make out within the 20 minutes that I had talked to him.

Maybe this could be something good. Am I attracted to him? No. Do I get warm and fuzzy thinking about him? Not a chance! Is it still worth a try? I wonder.

The deciding vote? I'm bored and there's this guy who seems like an okay person. What the heck! Why not?!

Let the games begin!

It's been three days of exchanging emails now and we've reached the stage where we're now "friends". He often makes oblique references to the possibility of asking me out on a date, presumably trying to figure out if I will say yes. Once he made an indirect request for my phone number, which I conveniently overlooked. And he continuously gives me lots of information about himself, all the good things, of course. Every email (from both sides) is always well thought out, baits are taken or carefully side-stepped, openings given and the information received is carefully analyzed.

What saddens me is that it's all a game. And considering this is the first time I'm playing this game, I'm surprisingly good at it. If I may say so myself, of course!

I won't deny that this... flirting, for lack of a better word, is a lot of fun! It definitely spices up an otherwise boring day in office. And I don't have any qualms about going along with this little act because this guy is obviously smart enough to play his part quite well, even though at times I wish he could be a little more subtle!

But is this the story I want for me? Have I lost all faith in my chances of finding love by just bumping into Mr. Right, looking into his eyes and just knowing this is it? Do I still believe that such love stories exist outside the realm of the movies?

Or are love stories really just made this way and the details simply glossed over? Is this really it?

I know this particular person may or may not be the "One". I also know if I look at every guy I meet with the intention of classifying them as a potential "Prince Charming" or not I will miss out on a lot of great relationships and experiences. Maybe I am over-analyzing this. May be this is how grown ups are supposed to be like. Maybe this is what it's like when two adults are treading on thin ice, trying to find common ground. I really don't know.

Truth is, it feels like sneaking into the kitchen in the middle of the night and helping myself to extra pudding. I know it's wrong. I know it will give me a stomach ache in the morning. I know if I get caught I'll have hell to pay. But just for the moment, it's just so good!

What's your threshold for pain?

2008-04-03T23:41:00.000-07:00

How much would you take before you lashed back? How much would you listen to before you let it get to you and make you want to give as good as you get? Till when would you play along with a joke and at what point would it lose its humor and become an insult?

How much would you bleed before you fight back? For how long would you grit your teeth and not hit back? What would it take to get you to deliberately hurt someone? Could you be pushed to the limit where you don't stop till long after your opponent has gone down? Could you be merciless, heartless to someone else's pain?

At what point would you agree to have someone killed? Could you kill someone in a moment of passion or in self-defense? What if you absolutely had to chose between your life and the person's in front of you? Or a loved ones life and the person in front of you? Or between your life and a loved ones life? If you had to kill someone, would you be able to look into that person's eye and pull the trigger? Or would you rather do it non-violently and in absentia? Could you deliberately kill someone?

So, what's your threshold for pain?

2008-03-25T16:58:00.000-07:00

Some days...

... life feels like a treadmill and you feel like you're running as fast as you possibly can but you're still stuck in the same place.

... the thoughts in your head seem clearest when the world seems just a little fuzzy.

... you need to stand in the middle of a storm to feel at peace.

... everything seems inconsequential and you just want to sleep forever.

... you want to do everything right but the entire Universe seems to be conspiring against you.

... you feel you're at the end of your rope and then all of a sudden things get better.

... you trust nothing and no one and when you least expect it an angel comes along and makes you believe again.

... you just know that it's going to be as okay as it could ever be. And that it's really okay to not be okay too because Life's Like That!

... you have nothing to write about but the itch is there so you write anything that comes into your head!

2008-03-19T23:53:00.000-07:00

Home is where the heart is...

There's something positively lascivious about the word 'lascivious'. It makes you feel just a little sinful and just a little giggly. Like the thought of warm molten chocolate. Or maybe, a little bit like a pre-teen, reading an adult romance novel under torchlight, being caught by a frowning disapproving nun. Of course you might be curious about my sudden fascination with the word so I'm going to let it go and carry on with the rest of my post.

I flew into Seattle last Sunday, my fourth trip in eight months. A whiff of the cold wet mountain air outside the airport made me smile, as always. There's something about the Seattle air that I feel straight in my bones. A magical something that makes me wish I could give up my wanderlust and never leave that beautiful city. I never could understand my bond with the city that was a home to me for less than a year, so I simply never question it. I'm just happy I get to visit that city as often as I do, even if I don't live there any more.

It was just another weekend spent with one of my closest friends. Of course, in true Seattle spirit, it rained all the time I was there and I loved every minute of it. Add to that, it was also the first time I was driving around by myself and the freedom was both new and wholly enjoyable. I even remarked on how I felt more at home there than in LA and I had lived in LA much longer.

And just as always, I boarded my flight back with a twinge of regret that I always feel at leaving Seattle. I often wonder what life would have been like if I had got that Microsoft job. What if I had become one of the thousands of migrant Indians holding (arguably) the most prestigious job in this line of work. I know I would have hated it, just as I hated every minute of being on the legendary Microsoft campus during my interview. I have often told myself that it was more of a blessing disguise; I'm definitely not cut out for that life. Of course, it may be considered a case of sour grapes by most, but the honest truth is that I'm not competitive or ambitious yet I'm very sensitive to failure. I know that fighting my way up that pyramid would have sapped the living life force out of me.

But I digress. The fact is that I'm fairly happy with my life as it is in LA. No amount of wondering about the "what-ifs" has tempted me to look for something more just yet. Yet there is this conscious reluctance to give in to this contentment and let myself belong to LA. I know this city quite well; I know my way around and my place in the city. I have a good job and a few friends here. I went to school here. I live in a lovely little apartment which is all mine. Then why do I feel like I still do not belong in LA?

I was still contemplating these facts of my life when we landed and I made my way out to the now familiar terminal to take a shuttle to the parking lot. I knew, even before stepping out, that the sun would be harsh and I had my sun glasses ready. I was prepared for the heat, the smog and the crowds outside that door. I got out, found my shuttle and sat back to look out of the window. As we drove away from the airport I saw the road in front of me, wide and brightly sunlit, lined with palm trees on both sides.

And then I heard a voice in my head that, like an unanticipated left hook, blew my lights out. It was a little voice, peaceful and content, which said,

"Sigh! It's good to be home, at last!"

2008-03-14T17:06:00.000-07:00

Who is she?

Looking through a looking glass
A stranger's looking back at me
I look to see what I look like
Instead I wonder- "Who is she?"

A face so different from my own
Eyes that seem to hold my stare,
With questions I don't understand
Before those eyes, my soul lays bare.

A kindred spirit or long lost friend
I know not who the image is,
Yet something tells me I know her well
In a world quite different from this.

I am as much a stranger
To her, as she to me
Yet we share a deeper fear
Of who we are and who we'll be.

I smile at her, a hesitant smile
And she smiles right back at me
A chord is struck, a deal is made
For maybe one day I will be she.

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

Inspired by Abhi Tak Single's post - I spy with my little eye

2008-03-11T18:02:00.000-07:00

Randomization...

Not much to blog about so here are just a few random thoughts/questions ...

I prefer movies to television dramas. Movies tell you the whole story in one sitting and the happy endings stay forever. You may occasionally wonder what they mean by "And-they-lived-happily-ever-after" but it's really up to you to believe that all of it really did work out. Television gets characters together and then when it wants to spice things up makes them break up and get together with someone else. There are never any happy endings because there are never any endings and fools like me are hooked in the hope that it will somehow all work out with these imaginary people. Sigh!

In the movies where the lead characters find their "true love" while they're with someone else, has anyone wondered what happens to the person they dump to be with this new "true love"? Given that in most romantic movies at least one of the two lead characters dumps who they're with to be with their "true love", why do we consider these movies to be feel-good movies? Why do we never think about what happens to the other guy/girl? Why does no one shed a tear for him/her?

What do you do if you're at a party that you just didn't want to attend and are hating every minute of? What if you don't have any means of transportation to leave and are stuck there till the people you came with decide it's time to go? How do you feel when you know you're obviously missing something because every one seems to be having the time of their life? Do you sit in a corner and sulk the evening away, or try anything and everything to get out of there? Or do you suck it up and try to understand what it is that everyone else is so entertained by and give the whole affair an honest shot?

What if that party is actually your entire life and you see no purpose to it nor any way out of it? (Don't worry I'm really okay. I promise.).

Is there a reason why I have been getting hit on by guys who are already openly and seriously committed to another person? Three different guys in as many years is definitely no co-incidence. How do I even know these people?! And more importantly - where are the single guys??!!!

Can you really find the love of your life by filling out a form with your height, weight, salary and a few sugar-coated "About Me" lines?

I started working out 2-3 times a week at the start of the year and I have been putting on weight consistently ever since. Why am I always the weird one with these logic-defying realities?!

Why are you still reading this?!

2008-03-03T01:48:00.000-08:00

In the still of the night...

I live in a fully furnished apartment, done up with colorful cushions and pale wood furniture, an airy, bright place. There are pictures lining the walls and bric-a-brac on bookshelves, mute spectators of a time long gone. Every corner seems to hold a testament of some memorable moment lived joyously. This place I call home.

I live alone. I live by myself. Have you ever noticed how discouraging it is to cook for oneself? A meal eaten alone is hardly ever appetizing. And junk food tastes so much better than a proper meal when eaten in front of the television.

It’s never silent around here. I turn on the television before I turn on the lights when I get home from work. If I’m in the kitchen or the shower, I have the radio turned on at full volume. And if I’m in my room, reading, writing or even sleeping, my laptop is always beside me streaming music from the Internet. And I'm almost always on the phone with someone.

There is usually so much to do around the house; it seems like time and space are always filled up to the brim around here. It’s always busy, so much to do and so little time to do it. Just living is a lot of work, or so it seems.

And then, once in a while, the phone won’t ring, the television, radio and laptop will all be turned off and the lights will all be turned out save a solitary night light in the corner of the living room. Silence, darkness and space.

It’s the space that gets to me really. An 1100 sq. ft. apartment just for me seems like such a waste. A double bed in the bedroom, when I only need one-third of it to sleep. Large empty space. A space I always craved as a child sharing a dormitory with twenty others like myself. Yet a space that feels like a void to me now. I’m not fond of wide empty spaces, they're so alienating and devoid of life.

The silence never lasts. Once the noises inside the house die down, the sounds from outside start to seep in. The baby crying next door, traffic on the road in front, the neighbors cat on the stairs outside. All the sounds that are evidence of life outside are also reminders of the silence within.

The darkness I welcome. It feels like a part of me, as if it were born somewhere deep within me. It envelops me, shielding me from everything around me, embraces me like a long lost love. Within the darkness I feel myself breathe again, alive and true to the basest form of my soul. In the dark there is warmth. In the dark I feel whole.

I know the morning will intrude soon enough and life will take over everything once more. Daylight will fill up this space and highlight the achievements of my consumer driven life. The sounds of life from outside will intermingle with the humdrum of my existence.

But just for these few moments, the darkness is mine.

2008-02-19T17:28:00.000-08:00

Do you remember the time...

Ok! So I was tagged by Unpredictable Mystic and I'm being a sport and getting it out of the way ASAP :)

(Truth - I can't think of anything to write about so this topic is as good as any. )

Here goes -

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

Post 5 links to 5 of your previously written posts. The posts have to relate to the 5 key words given (family, friend, yourself, your love, anything you like). Tag 5 other friends to do this meme. Try to tag at least 2 new acquaintances (if not, your current blog buddies will do) so that you get to know them each a little bit better. Now don’t forget to read the archived posts and leave comments (Post comments here itself please!).

Sigh!

Family
I'm actually amazed that my family really hasn't made an appearance on my blog. So, this was all I could come up with - my dog ran away again a few weeks after this post and never came back. I didn't have the heart to eulogize him again so this is all that remains.
My only family close to me here (physically close) is my Genie and this is when she first became a part of my life. I still love her and I don't care what you think - she's family to me!

My mom, dad and brother shall continue to remain anonymous and unknown for now. For some reason I don't want to blog about them ... hmmm... I wonder why!

Friends
Oh! There are so many!! But I think this one, when I bid my roomies farewell, is the best. I still miss them so much! Muah to them!
And of course there was my post on my friends from another life. Here's raising my glass to them one more time!

Myself
Isn't this blog all about me??! Oh! well! Here you go -
- Things I'm grateful for
- Things that upset me
- Truth about me!

My Love
Unfortunately this is best I can come up with on love! I know! I know! It's pathetic!

My Faves
Ah! Way too many! But if I really must pick my three faves are -
- Circle of Life
- Every now and then
- Red
I wonder if there's a reason why they're all poems!

You know this is actually a fun tag! It felt really good to go through all my posts that I've published in the last year and half and re-live those moments :) I hope you enjoyed the trip down memory lane as much as I did!

Now who shall I tag?! Must I tag someone? I know none of my blog buddies are going to want to do this (except maybe Still searching who has already been tagged by Unpredictable Mystic :P and of course Unpredictable Mystic herself!) so I'm leaving it open. If any of you do want to do it let me know!! I'd love to walk with you down your own personal memory lane :)

Toodles!

2008-02-10T07:16:00.000-08:00

A toast to the Human Spirit

Human beings are truly wonderful creatures, all-powerful and awe-inspiring. Over a span of approximately 2.5 million years, human beings have changed the face of the planet to which they belong. They have broken down and built upon, molded, reshaped and transformed every resource at hand to suit their whims and fancies.

The world we live in today is replete with man-made marvels, most of which we take for granted. I flew to Seattle this weekend and we hit some bad weather on the way. The thought of flying through a storm with zero visibility, safe from the elements of nature (and other airplanes) was humbling as well as exciting. And then I realized (on probably the 55th flight of my life) that just to be able to fly should be amazing. A metal container soaring through the skies carrying 200-odd people is a miracle by itself! Yet it was something I had never given a second thought to all this time.

This feeling of awe was further compounded by a visit to the Boeing Museum of Flight. The Concorde, super sonic jets, airplanes bigger than buildings, and some smaller than you had thought possible, space travel, micro-gravity simulated environments - all miracles within themselves, yet taken for granted by us. A person with no respect for science and the quest for knowledge has to be blind to the world around him.

But then it is us humans who also pillage and plunder till there is nothing left to take. Right beside the modern day marvels of flight we glorify war and the machines we created to kill each other. Man, the thinking animal, is still at its basest form, only an animal. We play mind games. We destroy each other and ourselves. We are arrogant to believe we are masters of our destiny and that of those who submit to our domination.

Not only do entire nations fight for power over other nations; there are also many simple men and women, leading mundane lives subjugated to the will of others. Domestic abuse in an air conditioned home is no better than in a cave. The quintessential search for a better life is defeated by ignorance and arrogance. Human beings are blinded by their own power, ruthless at times, in their wish to conquer all.

I just have to wonder, in this quest to conquer all, where do we draw a line? Where does it end?

On the way back I had the window seat with a clear view of Los Angeles as we landed. The lights spread out for miles. As we dipped closer, the brightly colored gems on black satin metamorphosed into little electric pulses glimmering on one big, neatly designed, circuit board. This circuit board, then became a little toy village with miniature houses and tiny cars, till finally the city slowly zoomed into view, larger than life.

We humans have taken what God gave us and transformed it. All that we behold is ours, for better or for worse. The world, as it exists today, is testament to the human spirit. And it still looks beautiful. I only hope we can keep it like that for generations to come.

2008-02-06T17:10:00.000-08:00

Nature and Nurture

I have decided to never again make fun of Tuccha Kapoor. Ooops! My bad! Tusshar Kapoor. As you can see it will take me a little getting used to. Consider the following:

- He was born to a family that made his being a part of showbiz inevitable. (I mean, come on, he is Jeetendra's son, you know! What else could you possibly expect of a "star kid" these days?)
- He was born sans the good sense to stay away from being in front of the camera (and maybe follow his sister’s footsteps and do something else).
- He was also not born with a face (or body, or personality) that looked good in front of the camera and there really is little he can do about it.
- He really wants to be a "hero". You can see that from how hard he tries. It's sad, but it's true.

Given all these truths, it's obvious that God and Fate have been cruel enough with him. Why add insult to injury? So from now on, I'm going to refrain from splitting my sides laughing at him the next time I see him playing the saxophone wearing a neon orange shirt with reflector sunglasses. Actually I'm aghast that I laughed at that instead of wincing, in the first place!

But do you think it possible that if Tusshar had been born to a different family, he would have been a different person today? Or if his family had instilled more realistic expectations in him from himself, would he maybe even chosen a different life?

Or say, if my father had been younger when I was growing up or more outdoorsy with me, would I have been more athletic and sporty? Or if my mother had been a softer person, more delicate and fashionable, would I have grown up to be a more feminine person as opposed to someone who just can't care about babies or make-up or other such stuff a woman is supposed to care for?

For the most part, I consider myself to be "best buds” with most of the guys I know and "like a sister" to the few female friends I do have. Most of my girl friends are a lot like me, not usually given to frills and trivialities like make-up or beauty treatments. We're typically science majors, with just as much love for electronic gadgets as the next guy. We're happier fixing our laptops than fixing our nails.

So my question to you is, do you think such women (including me) consciously chose to be, what is stereotypically considered, less feminine or is it decided by the influences around them? Or are they just born with a "femininity quotient" if you will? And are these women really any less womanly?

Then again, is it possible for a woman to be feminine yet boyish? Can someone who enjoys the bawdy bar talk with a group of guys still very much be a woman in her behavior, attitude and appearance? Is it possible to be pretty and not be thought of as an air-head? Can a girl worry about her nails and still change a flat tire by herself? Or does it have to be one or the other?

Or is it only possible in theory but in reality a woman with the perfect balance is probably one of those rare super-achievers you often hear about but never really meet? Or are these merely stereotypes that we form in our heads, abstract and potentially highly inaccurate?

For the girls reading this - do you believe there is a difference in how people behave around you (professionally or socially) depending on how you appear? Not in the generic sense that if you're slovenly you're considered messy and probably disorganized. That's pretty much understood. But do you at times overlook your softer side to get a different response from the guys you know? Or alternatively play up the feminine wiles maybe? And does it upset you to be judged based on that?

For the guys - I know if I were to be more girly, a lot of my friends would treat me differently, like cuss less around me, not give in to crude guy talk, or expect me to "check out the hot thing at 11 o clock" with them. But how much does a girl's appearance and behavior matter in your dealing with her? Would you, say, date someone who swore and guzzled more beer than you? She could be a successful professional and perfectly presentable (just like you are) when required but when at home, she was just one of the guys. Would she be any less womanly to you?

I know it seems like I'm going through an identity crisis with another post questioning human behavior and the like so soon after my last one. For me this is, in part, an extended exercise in understanding how all of it works and if my life could be any different. The debate behind nature vs. nurture of course is an age old one with no possible resolution in sight. But I would like to know to what extent these factors affect our choices in life.

Of course, unfortunately, all this is quite useless for Tusshar, since the sax playing scene in the orange shirt and sunglasses has already been recorded for posterity. I only hope people don't judge him too harshly for it.

2008-02-01T16:46:00.000-08:00

Of Loves lost and Lives forgotten...

I have spent the last few days contemplating different ideas for a blog post but haven't really been inspired to write, that is, till I read Unpredictable's recent post on "intent". She mostly talks about how, if you intend to, you can find the time to stay in touch with anyone. You can read my point of view in the comments section of her post; I'm not going to re-iterate them here.

I do, however, want to write about some of the people I have lost touch with over the years. These people were, and still are, very special to me and ever since I read that post I have been unable to get them out of my head. They probably will never read any of this, but if they do, this is me apologizing for disappearing on them. I still love each of them deeply and I'm going to try and contact them this weekend. I promise.

So - here are the nominees for people who would be absolutely justified in saying "Nutty, who?"

I'll start with my first real friend ever. We went to school (Class I to Class X) together. We grew up together; we were sisters for ten years. She taught me how to write ('coz her handwriting was so much prettier than mine) and addressed my letters home for all the time that we were together. She's probably known me longest amongst all the friends I ever made. Last year she was posted to Mexico City for three months. I had promised her I'd visit. A few scraps on Orkut were exchanged and then I just never called. I got an email from her last week saying she's getting married in a few months. I don't know who the guy is, or if she’s happy to be marrying him, where they will live, what her name will be after marriage, nothing. It hurts me that I have no idea about what's going on in her life. I don't even have her phone number.
To her - I'm just so sorry I got so busy in my life and took you for granted all these years. I may not make it to the wedding but you'll always be a sister to me. I have never forgotten you; just forgotten to tell you that I have never forgotten you!

Moving on...

She was the only person to be-friend me when I joined her school in class XI. She has the heart of a saint and loves like a child, completely and truly. Our families grew to be friends and we knew everything about each other, but in college we became two very different people and I admit I didn't understand her very often. It irritated me no end, to think I was friends with someone I just couldn't comprehend and I deliberately cut her out of my life, heartlessly and brutally. Today I realize I was wrong. She deserved a better friend than me. I have made some feeble attempts at getting back in touch with her but I know I need to try harder if I want her to ever trust me again.

To her - I can't say how sorry I am for the way I behaved. You irked me but you didn't deserve my behaving so badly. I know I should call you but I'm too scared and still a little hurt by our last fight. But I also miss you. I'm going to try and call you this weekend and I hope I have the courage to go through with this resolution to get back in touch with you :)

And then...

He was my first crush in college (OK! I have never admitted it this openly!!) And he has been one of my closest friends since we graduated. We actually bonded over drunk dialing each other every time we got drunk because we've never lived in the same city since college. We had a pact to call each other every time we were "wasted" and that, of course, happened quite often. I remember calling him one time, late at night, from the bathroom and whispering on phone to avoid waking up the other people in the house. It never occurred to me to not call, because, come on, we had a pact!! Unfortunately things got a little hazy in our heads with all those drunken talks and I don't know for sure what went wrong but things haven't quite been the same for over a year now. He used to read this blog a long time ago but I don't know if he still does. If he's lurking around somewhere I just want to say - I miss you. I miss those drunken calls. We've both gotten really busy (and old) in life but we know that’s not the real reason for us being this distant now. I am sorry for all our misunderstandings (and that's all I'm going to say on a public blog, we don't want to wash any dirty laundry in public now!). You're one of my best friends and I just want us to be the way we were. Also, I'm probably going to get very drunk this weekend so you better be prepared for a good ol' drunken phone conversation :)

And finally…

My BFF, my soul sister. I know you have been trying to get me to call your regularly and I always say I'm busy with work, which has been true for the last few months, but I promise to be better now. I miss you too. My life is a little crazy right now (as always, I guess) and I don't know if you'll understand all of it. But just writing this post has made me realize that times change and friends shouldn't. So I promise to not forget to call you ever again! Ok may be not ‘ever’ again, but at least not as often as I do :)

Oh! And by the way, dear reader, I started a new blog for my story writing (look in the sidebar). Now I just need a story to build itself in my head and I can start posting there too. Thank you for your support and feedback. I couldn't have done it without you!

2008-01-21T15:10:00.001-08:00

I, Me and Myself

If two of your closest friends, who had never met or spoken to each other, were to describe you to each other, do you think their descriptions would be similar?

There are times when it feels like there are so many people living in my head, that I’m not quite sure which of them is the “real me”. Or if there even is a “real me”. There are people who rely on me for advice on the toughest situations, and there are people who look after me rather than look to me for guidance. There are people who think I’m the spice of every party, the drama queen. And then I know of people who think of me as reserved and shy, an introvert who lacks social skills and needs to come out of her shell. There are days when I’m a writer or a poet, and others when I’m a geek, a lover of science. I can fix the blinds and the plumbing, put up curtain rods and picture frames on walls. But I can’t assemble a coffee table by myself. I can cook a complete four course meal for a guest list of ten in a day. But I’ve also been known to eat salsa and chips for dinner when I’m by myself.

I’m considered mature, crazy, romantic, practical, a laugh riot, a scary manic depressive. I am extremes and I’m nothing. I sound like that Meredith Brooks’s song, “I’m a bitch, I’m a lover”. I think that song epitomizes how every woman would like to think of herself.

These last few days I have been forced to do some introspection. I need a plan. I need to know where I’m headed. But most importantly I need to decide the kind of person I have grown into and what that person wants from life. It hasn’t quite been easy, but it’s been interesting. It’s not easy to know who you really are, to understand that person and to actually like that person. I don’t know if I’ll ever really completely know who I am. I do tend to surprise myself often. It keeps the learning process alive. And I’d like to believe I keep growing as a person, changing with the winds of time.

Do you know who you really are? Are you constant in being yourself, or do you, like me, put on different masks at different times? Are you happy being you?

2008-01-14T13:48:00.000-08:00

Friends and Lovers

Wham! Strike!

It was the tenth frame and her third strike in a row. She hooted with joy and turned around to high five him, only to find him lost in conversation with the group of jocks bowling in the next lane discussing the merits of beer. The cheer died on her lips and she turned away just as quickly to hide her disappointment. To a stranger, they looked like any other young couple out on a date but it hadn’t been that way for years now. Today was the first time in months that they were spending time together. They weren’t all that young either, but years of releasing pent up frustrations in workout sessions kept them in good shape and they looked good.

Their marriage counselor had suggested this bowling alley as a neutral ground to re-connect with each other. They were supposed to try and make things work. This “date” was meant to bring the zing back into their relationship. She held back the sardonic laughter at the thought and went up to him. “Sweetie, you’re up next” she said softly trying to keep the smile in her voice. Then, trying a little harder, so as to not ruin the evening completely, she turned to the guys he was talking to and joked about how she was beating him hollow. He laughed with her, and without a look at the score, bowled his turn with complete nonchalance.

The lane on the other side had a group of friends obviously having fun. One of the girls had just bowled a gutter ball and her boyfriend was playfully teasing her about it. There was such camaraderie between them, as if they’d known each other all their lives. “True love”, she whispered and then scoffed at the thought. Sometimes friendship was a lot deeper than love; she knew that now. She looked back at her husband, finishing his frame and getting ready to leave. She saw the man she woke up next to every morning and tried to remember how he’d looked the first time they’d met.

It had been over eleven years ago. They had both joined as new recruits at the same multi-national bank and it was their first day at training. She was new to the city. He had been to school there. She knew no one at the training and was wondering who to go up and talk to. By the lunch break he knew all the pretty girls in their training class and had plans for pool and beer that evening with a bunch of guys who had joined with them. She was still by herself on the bus home that evening. He had invited their trainer along to play pool with them and hence got himself and his pals a ride to the bar they had decided on. She had seen him look her way briefly and had thought about him all the way back home. He’d seen her walk into class and filed her away in the little black book that he maintained in his head.

Slowly, over the next few days, she made friends with others who were in training with them. And then on Friday afternoon, their first weekend after joining, he walked up to the group of people she was lunching with and asked if anyone was interested in going dancing with him and a couple of his friends on Saturday night. Plans were made, phone numbers were exchanged and he walked away. He called on Saturday morning, saying he was borrowing his brother’s car and asking if she needed a ride. Surprised and glad (she didn’t like to drive), she accepted. He picked her up, they chatted in the car and before they knew it they were friends.

After that weekend things changed drastically for her. She got swept up in the whirlpool of his ever increasing friends circle. They became the best of friends. He would be the one who introduced her to the first guy she ever loved. She would tease him relentlessly about the innumerable girls he dated. Within days they knew each others’ life stories. There was a love that was above mere romantic fancies; a friendship so deep and true that it put true love to shame. But as all good things must, training ended and they were posted to different cities. They kept in touch, visited each other every few months. Eventually each got busy in their lives, and though the love remained, they both moved on. She changed jobs; he left the country. The visits became less frequent and eventually stopped altogether.

Then six years ago they decided to meet up again. They were both visiting the same city where they’d met, for a business conference. It was a perfect way to re-live the good ‘ol days. They hadn’t met in a little over three years. They booked rooms in the same hotel and coordinated travel arrangements. Her plane landed before his and so she had the rental car all ready to pick him up when he flew in. The instant they saw each other they knew nothing had changed. They laughed easily. He teased her about having to pick him up because he knew she still disliked driving. She laughed at his new “serious, mature” look. They talked. Right through the presentation sessions of the conference, they talked about everything under the sun. They were making up for lost time, updating each other on all that had happened to them in the last three years.

She told him about her heartbreak over the first and only love of her life. He asked her advice about this girl he had been serious about for a little over a year. She was pleasantly surprised that he’d finally found someone whom he could stay with for that long and not go wandering about. He grinned sheepishly, a little shy about his first real relationship, yet at ease with her. Because he knew she understood. And because he knew it was ok to talk about stuff with her.

After the conference they had planned to stay an extra day together before heading back into their busy lives. They planned to take a trip down nostalgia lane, eat at their favorite joint, walk the roads behind her previous hostel where they had spent many a night walking and talking about their dreams and aspirations. And finally they planned to go dancing to the club where they had hung out together the first time. At their local mall, she helped him pick out lingerie for his girl friend, giggling all the time. They were out all night, drinking, dancing, laughing. Neither remembered how they got back to the hotel that night.

The next morning disaster struck. They woke up together in his bed, with a hazy recollection of a very steamy night together. They looked at each other, for a moment devastated and ashamed. She was trying to get out of bed, wrapping the sheet around her, shy and awkward, when she tripped and fell flat on her face. He laughed softly. She looked at him and then burst out laughing herself. Within seconds they were both in splits, rolling on the floor laughing. It was all ok again.

And they left, to live their lives far, far away. Friends forever.

Six weeks later she called him, in panic. She thought she was pregnant. He flew to her that very day. The events of that day were still a little hazy to her. She remembered sitting with him at the coffee shop all day, trying to listen to him but really too stunned to feel anything. He was asking her what she thought she wanted to do. She asked about his girl friend and if he’d told her why he had come here immediately.

“Oh! I broke up with her the day I got back, I just knew it wasn’t meant to be”, was all he said.

And then he asked her if she might want to keep the baby. She didn’t know what she wanted. The test results weren’t even in yet and the home pregnancy test she had taken had been unclear. Should they be panicking and deciding things this soon? Before she could realize what was happening, he was down on one knee, asking her to marry him. She remembered thinking it was all happening too fast. She looked at him, at the earnestness in his eyes and the sincerity in his voice, and broke down crying. Yes, she would marry him.

The next morning, she found out it had been a false alarm. She informed him about it at breakfast, embarrassed and unwilling to meet his eye. He kept silent for a moment and then he said “Will you marry me anyway?” She looked into his face, bewildered. He grinned. She knew what her answer would be. She had often wondered later if they had been swept away in a moment of high emotional vulnerability. Maybe that’s what it was. Maybe it was just meant to be. Who knows?

They got married that summer. She found a job where he lived and their life started a new chapter. In the beginning it really was perfect. They had such perfect understanding. He made her laugh. She gave him that certain necessary stability in his life. They complemented each other beautifully.

And then slowly they started to change. She would get irritable every time he was charming to another girl. He would sulk every time she stopped him from spending on a whim. Neither knew when they started fighting more than laughing. Their once treasured friendship was now in tatters. Soon enough apathy set in and each got busy in their careers putting their work before their marriage. They worked hard and so they did well for themselves, but were slowly slipping away from each other.

“Let’s get back home”, he said and she snapped back to the present. “Okay”, she replied, picking up her bag and bowling shoes, following him to the car park. Last month he had left for a weekend alone at a friend’s cabin in the hills, to “get some air”. That’s when she knew they were really at the edge and as soon as he returned she had convinced him to try and save their marriage by getting counseling. This was their first “homework”. And, although he had gone along with all of it so far, she had to admit, this evening hadn’t gone too well.

That night, as he turned off the lights and came into bed, she asked “You remember that first weekend in training, when all of us went dancing? Why did you come up to our table and ask us to join your friends?”

He turned towards her and frowned.

“Why are you asking me this again now? What do you really want me to say?” he asked.

“Nothing. It was just a thought. Forget I asked”.

They were silent for a moment. And then in the darkness he said –

“I’m sorry. I know you’ve asked me this often in the past and I always gave you a lame reply. The truth is it was nothing romantic. I asked everyone in class to come. But, the scary part is I don’t know what made me call you the next day and offer you a ride. It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

She smiled at his honesty. They hadn’t been this candid without screaming at each other in ages. She decided to push her luck a little further.

“When did you first fall in love with me?”

He grinned and said “Ok! Now I know that is a trick question. You want me to say the first moment I saw you, right?”

She laughed and playfully punched him.

“I’m serious. I really want to know!”

“Well, if you must know, it was that morning in the hotel room, when you tried getting out of bed and tripped. You were scurrying, your hair in tangles, face flushed. It was such a comical sight and I don’t know why but at that moment I just knew.”

She exclaimed, indignant, then laughed softly, remembering that morning.

“Do you still love me? At all?” she asked after a moment, hesitant, afraid of what he would say next.

He was silent for a long while. She thought he hadn’t heard, or maybe he’d drifted to sleep. She sighed. Sleep seemed to have vanished so she thought she’d sit out in the balcony and look at the stars, her favorite solution for her insomnia. Just as she was getting into the easy chair on the balcony he followed her out and came to kneel before her, taking her hands in his and resting his face in them. The moonlight seemed to take away the years from his face, and his eyes twinkled with star light.

“You know why I agreed to the counseling after I came back from the cabin? It’s because no matter how much we fight we never sleep apart from each other and alone in that cabin I missed you. I couldn’t sleep without you fighting me for the blanket and complaining about the room temperature. It was too silent, too empty. Much too peaceful for someone of my temperament, I’d say. You said we need to save our marriage and I agreed. But when you asked me if I still love you, I wondered if I really love you or I am just habituated to living with you. And I thought that I didn’t know the answer any more. And then you get up and walk out here, leaving me alone and I get a vision of our room, and our home, without you. I don’t like it one bit. If not wanting to be without you is any indication, then yes, I do love you deeply. Ok?”

By now she was crying openly, for all the time they had lost, for all their doubts, for all their bitterness. She bent and kissed him, her friend, her love, her husband. And she knew then that they would make it. It wouldn’t be easy but he loved her. She didn’t need anything more.

They walked back in, and went to sleep, holding each other, for the first time in a year.

2008-01-04T20:49:00.000-08:00

Lucky breaks

Lessons shmessons! Let’s get to the fun stuff now!

So I spent the four days of the Christmas weekend at a friend’s place in San Jose. Wait a minute did I say four days? You bet I did! After those impossible six weeks of pure slavery, we got 24th and 31st December off!!! So it was that I spent four days, with 7-8 friends in a 3 bedroom apartment, drinking and watching movies all night, and of course sleeping all day! I can't really remember what we did for food though. Hmmm! Maybe that's because I don't remember getting up from my corner on the couch and even looking towards the kitchen! Yes, yes, I know, everyone wants my friends. You can try being really nice to me. Else, get in line!

The trip was actually in honor of one of my friends’ birthday. On the eve of the birthday, we did up the living room as if for a children's birthday party, which some might consider appropriate given our collective mental ages. Later that day his colleagues joined the party, with two sets of cakes. Yes, one to eat, and the other, sigh! It was all over him, all over the place, and thankfully not anywhere near me! And it was not just cake. There was champagne, there were eggs, and stuff I have no idea about! Of course, four batches of vodka gol gappas made everything so much better for everyone. Trust me - they're nasty, but they get the job done!

Sadly, there was also a hiccup or two. The flu decided to join the party and soon enough scratchy throats, watery eyes and body aches were knocking down our door. Time to head back home!

I got back just in time to host one of my best friend’s brother with his 6 month pregnant wife and 3 year old son. I vacuumed, mopped and polished the apartment all night, only to see their son make a bee line for my shot glasses! I can tell you, the boy is definitely on the right track! All the same, I woke up with a horrible migraine the next day. Yes migraine, not hang over! And promptly took the next two days off, saying I had the flu as well. I stayed home, detox'd, slept and cooked for my guests. In the middle of one such cooking session, when I was cutting some onions, my boss called to ask after me. Now I usually don't have anything nice to say about onions because they seem real intent on making me cry more than any ex-boyfriend ever could. But in this case, I shall make an exception. I was all teary eyed, with a scratchy throat and runny nose on the phone, and my boss was so concerned (and convinced)! Wow! How about that for luck?!

Recharged and refreshed after my four day party and two day sick leave, I was ready for my next 5 day vacation on the opposite coast. I flew out to NJ on Friday night, met up with an old friend on Saturday, spent all day catching up, hung out in a mall that evening, helping him buy his girl friend lingerie from Victoria’s Secret, and went out for some serious binge drinking that night. Yes, yes, I know everyone wants to be my friend too. What can I say, sigh!

I spent Sunday with my cousin planning New Years Eve and had dinner at some relatives’ place where I politely declined the wine and opted for orange juice instead. When I couldn't make up my mind if I wanted pulp or no pulp, our host very kindly took out a third carton with "Medium Pulp" and poured me a glass. Unbelievable! Dinner was delicious, by the way. Unfortunately, they had ice cream for dessert. I was one of those weird children who never liked ice cream and sadly I still don't. (I remember saying this at work once and my colleague responded “.... and so you grew up to be a weird adult who doesn't like ice cream"! How rude!).

Anyway, the evening was not too bad. My cousins were working the next day, so I spent the day with my "guitar playing friend" in NY. We found a quaint little cafe near NYU that served "Darjeeling Estate tea (Indian)" in a little ceramic teapot. It was just perfect! New Years Eve was as most New Years Eve's usually are. I was with my cousins till midnight, did the champagne toast etc, got leered at by lecherous drunk men, one of whom came up to me and said "Find me at midnight and I just might favor you with a dance"!!!! I mean, seriously?! Damn it was funny! After that, I have a vague recollection of sitting on the side walk, waiting for my "guitar playing friend" (I really need a shorter nickname for him) to show up while my cousins tried to hail a cab. A big Afro-American guy came up to me and said something (I'm not quite sure what) and I remember replying to him in my best American accent ever - "I'm sorry, I don't speak English". I really was thinking in Punjabi but the words came out in English and the instant I heard them, I knew what an idiot I’d been! Thankfully, the guy just cracked up and walked away, my cousins got their cab and I managed to spend the rest of the night with two very drunk guys (guitar hero and his friend) who spent the better part of an hour finding a place to go while my heels killed my feet. The rest of the night was spent at a bar whose name none of us remember and events I really shouldn't recount here.

After that I just had to spend two days sleeping and then none too soon, the holidays were over. I'm back in my room now, enjoying the LA winter under a blanket, glad to have left the NYC cold behind, resolving to have no more New Years Eve parties.

Phew! That was fun, eh?!

2007-12-31T09:16:00.001-08:00

Lessons we learn

Have you realized how difficult it is to start writing the first line? There could be a zillion things running through your mind but when it comes to typing out the words, the first line of any post is the toughest. Especially when you have spent almost a month in absentia, lurking and reading what everyone else has to say but not obliged to voice your thoughts on every issue.

Oh well! Now that that's out of the way maybe I'll have better luck with the rest of this post. And since I've been away for over a month (moments of creative outbursts notwithstanding), this post is going to be another long one. So, buckle up people and get ready for the ride!

A lot has happened over the last few weeks. It has taught me a lot about myself and given me a few clues on how I want to live my life. An unfortunate happenstance (I never thought I'd get to use that word) left me a little broken hearted and sent me on an emotional roller-coaster which, in turn, completely upset the apple cart at work. The weeks that followed were a complete daze and I couldn't tell the weekend apart from a weekday or noon from midnight. We got some impossible projects from an impossible client with, of course, impossible deadlines. My vacation got canceled, as did any hope of a normal life. It was crazy, but to be honest, I loved every minute of it. There's a strange satisfaction to having a purpose to your day. The insanely long work hours were just what I needed to not dwell on any heartbreak issues I may have had. And after all of this, I’m so ready for this long weekend that I have had all planned out!

Anyways, cutting to the chase, through all of it this is what I learned:

I want to get married some day. I don't like being single. I think it was the motivation to "settle down" that made me "fall in love" with someone who I cared for a lot but was not quite right for me. And in spite of this episode, I think I could very easily make the same mistake again.

I don't want to have an "arranged marriage". These last two months have made me realize, more than ever before, that I want my love story and happy ending. I don't want it concocted in a lab of bio-datas, horoscopes and photographs. I want that chance meeting, that initial rush, the hesitation and the love at first sight. And I don't want to compromise on this because I know I'm not a bad person and I deserve to get my love story.

It is important to be around people who make you feel good about yourself. If someone is constantly telling you how you could do better or how you're doing things wrong, it's going to eat into your self-esteem and make you self-conscious. At the same time, there are very few people who will honestly tell you when you're doing something wrong. With the exception of your parents, there is probably no one who will bother to tell you about the small things you miss out on yourself, like how you behave in a given social situation, or how you come across to strangers. Accept the criticism, mull over it and either make good use of it or let it go. Most importantly, know yourself and the kind of person you want to be. And be honest, at least to yourself.

I learned a little about maturity. Not too much though, just a little. Maturity is about facing unpleasant situations with grace and dignity. Coming face-to-face with a friend with whom I haven't seen eye-to-eye for a while now (and probably won't ever either) I realized it doesn't always work out with the people you meet in life. Be it a broken engagement or a lost friendship, when you are around someone, you ought to be civil and warm, just like your mother taught you to be. You do not give in to petty emotional outbursts and "be frank" and "vent" or "clear the air". It takes a certain amount of maturity to understand that each person does as they think fit in a situation and that may sometimes hurt you. But it's not all about you. So don't let anyone else change your positivism. A lady never quarrels.

And then I learned that it takes one drunken, hysterical moment to forget all that you ever learned about restraint and every thing you tried to be mature about just comes gushing out in the ugliest form possible. So I think for now I'll stick to being immature and letting someone know straight up when I'm upset with them. It keeps the soul lighter, I guess.

Never mix your work life with your personal life. I know most people will read this and roll their eyes at me for not having realized this earlier. It's something everyone knows but a lot of people slip up on. The minute I took my emotional baggage to the office, everything went down hill. Be the best you can be at what you do. Take pride in what you do. It's a great ego and morale boost when you excel at what you do. Don't lose out on the opportunity to love your work.

I have realized I am a terrible homemaker. I do the laundry and don't bother putting it away. I do the groceries and then don’t bother cooking till all my groceries go bad and I have to throw them away. I pick up my mail after weeks and then leave it unopened by the shoe stand for a few more weeks. Everything in my house is in piles: piles of papers (bills, statements, and the aforementioned mail), clothes, groceries and dishes. I invariably fall asleep in the living room watching TV, using my nicely done up bedroom as a walk-in closet, unless I have guests, of course. I keep telling myself I need to grow up and stop living in a "hostel" mode, when someone else is responsible for cleaning up after me all the time. I also fear this may prove to be a problem when I do have someone else in my life (and home).

I learned that apparently fashion matters. I agree appearances do go a long way in making an impression on the people around you, but I always thought if one was dressed neatly and in clean clothes, it was sufficient. Apparently not. The term "well-dressed" doesn't merely imply a simple, clean appearance, but rather how well you fit in with the times you live in. So trends are important. And dressing smart isn't all about what you're comfortable in or what you have always worn. It's a constant effort and a habit that a lot of successful people inculcate within themselves over a period of time. Sigh! I also realize I really can't bring myself to care about fashion. And in spite of knowing the importance of dressing well, I'm always going to be a "jeans-and-shirt" kind of girl.

A single weekend of "veg-ing out" with friends can restore your cheer and goodwill, especially if it follows months of slavery which required spending never-ending hours at work. A little sympathy and acknowledgment from friends and family makes all the hard work seem worth it.

If I had wings, I would fly. Far away, every day, I would fly; fly as high as a kite.

And keeping with the spirit of the day, I hope these lessons take me into a better next year! Happy New Year everybody!

2007-12-24T07:43:00.001-08:00

every now and then...

yesterday
overflows into today
as if it ran out of space
and had a lot more to say

last night
ran into this morning, you see
they met for coffee
and the rest, as they say, is history

tomorrow
is just too far away
for only when 'now' ends, will
tomorrow be the new today.

2007-11-19T06:40:00.000-08:00

Long overdue sabbatical...

Dear Reader,

I'm going away from blog world for a while. Not too long, maybe a month to 6 weeks. There's a lot going on right now and I just cannot give any of my energies to writing for now. For the curious few, the novel never did start either. Maybe next year, who knows?!

Meanwhile, each of you out there who have been kind enough to bother looking me up every now and then, I apologize for running away like this, but I promise I'll be back! And if you want you can leave me a comment and I'll make sure to visit your blog and let you know when I'm back :)

Till then - keep smiling people! Muuuuaaaaaah!!

Lots of love,
Nutty

2007-11-10T15:39:00.000-08:00

Complications... Aggravations...

I'm at my wits end. I have no clue what I should do any more. This was not what my life was supposed to be like. I seem to have reached a dead end and I seem to be circling around it over and over again. Don't ask me how one circles around a dead end, just believe me it's possible.

For the first time in my life I was alone on Diwali. The one day of the year when I usually feel the real joy of being Indian and Hindu, no matter where I am, was spent alone, joy-less and depressed. How did I get this way? I do not know.

I need people. I need friends. Real friends, not just people who claim to be my friend. And friends who are physically present. I need family. I need the physical company of someone I can let my hair down and kick back with. I need conversation, not necessarily intelligent conversation but just some conversation. I need a life.

All my adult life I have been surrounded by people who I can hang out with, call at odd hours of the night, get drunk with or just simply walked the street aimlessly with. But ever since graduate school ended I seem to be living in this void where I touch no one and no one touches me*. The few people I used to hang out with have moved away or simply become too involved in their own lives. I'm told this process is called growing up. Considering I'm older than all of them I don't take to that too well.

My new job is awesome but it's a small company and no one really hangs out after work so the obvious avenue of making new friends is kind of not there. I do crazy things like join Hip-Hop classes and sign up for novel writing events. I go out, shopping, dining, to the movies, alone. I talk to complete strangers who probably think I'm a weirdo. Yet at the end of six months I find myself more alone than I had ever imagined I could be.

Here's what you're going to say - you need to put yourself out there. You need to mingle. You need to meet new people. If I hear that one more time I'm going to bite someones head off. Just how exactly do you "put yourself out there"? Other than hanging out like a desperate, pathetic woman at a singles bar (which I refuse to do) I really don't know what "put yourself out there" is supposed to mean.

And NO! I do NOT want to get married! So don't even think it.

This way of life is getting so depressing that it's affecting my work, my emotional stability, my health. And I have no idea how to fix it. This blog post is probably the most honest, desperate and pathetic one I have ever published so far so it's a testimonial to just how alone and desperate I am. So much so that I just don't care if it feels like I'm shouting out to the world at the top of my voice - "Is anyone there?! Does life exist on this planet that I live on?". I don't think I'm even going to proof read this post or edit it at all for fear of losing that voice which wants someone to hear me.

Maybe it's true. I am a loser with no life other than the one I live on the Internet.

*I am a rock - Simon and Garfunkel

2007-10-23T00:18:00.000-07:00

Complications, Heartbreak, Lashing Out Yet Finding Something to Smile About

Over the last few weeks I have desperately wanted to write but haven’t been able to do so. It was not the lack of material, time or motivation but rather because I have been in a state of quandary. What made me doubt my writing, you wonder? Well, brace your self for this. Someone told me he thought blogging was basically for “losers” who made up for their lack of a social life and physical interaction with other human beings, by reaching out to similarly pathetic bloggers, who then wallow in each others pointless, imaginary miseries, when all that they should really do is get off their butts, away from their computer screens and “get a life”. I was enraged. I fumed and argued but there was no point really. People are entitled to their opinions. So, I regained my composure and (giving in to my tendency to brood) re-considered my life, wondering if he had a point. And this, my fellow bloggers, is when I go publicly on record and lash back. Anyone not in the mood for a long rant had better quit now because this post has two weeks worth of ranting.

I am not a loser, nor do I blog to make up for lack of a social circle. I have friends, really good friends. I love my life and I refuse to get on the defensive about how I live it. Some people vent by crying, or drinking. There are others who get their high by driving at insane speeds or jumping off buildings. People sing in the bathroom, dance to a tune in their heads or do other random things. I write. When I feel, I write. It’s the way I emote, the way I reach out to friends and strangers. I write because I love to write and because no matter what I go through, or who I am with or without, I can always write. I do not write for the comments (although they are certainly appreciated) or the readership (that’s definitely a good thing too). I write because it’s the one thing I know will get me through anything. And I refuse to let someone insult me for it.

There! I feel so much better.

I had considered de-personalizing this blog so that personal details are not out there for anyone to read with their morning coffee. There maybe some merit in a little anonymity. But then, this last week, someone I thought I knew really well hurt me so deeply I realized an anonymous readership could hardly cause me more harm than that. Recently my relationship status changed from “Single” to “It’s complicated” and I allowed myself the luxury of a vulnerability. Here’s what I learned:

· Any girl who commits a 100% to a relationship within the first month and expects to not get hurt will either prove to be extremely lucky (and would be a perfect Las Vegas traveling companion), or extremely foolish.

· Any guy who convinces a girl to commit a 100% of her self to their new found relationship and then balks at the first show of commitment on his part had better prove to be worth his weight in gold if he expects his girl to ever let him into her life again.

· Time is the only cure for heartbreak. I suppose tears would help too but a lot of times the hurt goes so deep that you want to go into denial and your eyes stay dry. It’s ok to not cry over a guy. If he was worth crying over he wouldn’t make you cry in the first place.

· Sometimes it’s a good thing you didn’t tell your friends everything.

So after the fury and the relationship issues and the heart break were drowned in hours of mindless television I finally calmed down and focused on the one good thing that I am really looking forward to.

A friend of a friend told me about the National Novel Writing Month, organized by The Office of Letters and Light (seriously!). It's an awesome idea that twenty-one lazy wannabe novelists (like me) thought up, to get enthused and just start writing. Over the last six years, people from all over the world (last year saw 79,000 participants) have signed up for this and pledged to write a novel of at least 50,000 words in exactly one month. As per the rules of the event, the novel must be started on November 1st, from scratch, though you can prepare notes and an outline as early as you like, and must end by 11:59:59 pm GMT, November 30. Anyone who can do 50,000 words within that month is a winner. There are no awards given out by officious panels or juries. The achievement is in putting in a dedicated effort and just writing. The aim is to let those creative juices flow, let them go ahead and explode. The focus, for the moment, is on output and not on quality. If you do finish, you can, of course, refine your efforts all of the following year as you prepare for the next NaNoWriMo. The idea is to experience the joy and exhaustion of writing, while working towards a goal and deadline, with the help and support of fellow writers who are simultaneously going through the same pain. There are regional write-in sessions organized, online forums and chat rooms and the works! Interesting, isn't it? You can read the details at their website if you like.

When I found out about this, I hemmed and hawed over the temptation of signing up since November this year is going to be extremely busy with a lot of traveling. Eventually it got the better of me and –

I signed up! I'm going to write a 50,000 word novel in one month! Or at least try, at any rate. I am officially a NaNoWriMo 2007 participant.

Phew! Of course, now all I have to do is come up with a plot. And find the time to write. Simple, really!

And so, in spite of all the heartbreak and complications in the world, I smile because I‘m going to write.

2007-10-06T14:35:00.000-07:00

Runaway Brides and Chasing Cars...

The thoughts behind this post were triggered, in part, by conversations I have had with different friends over this last week and, in part, by Still Searching (in her post here) when she wondered – “…do you think you can have a crush on someone whose blog you like? Or whose comments you like? Does that sound plausible or preposterous?!”

There are crushes, there is attraction, there are degrees of getting along, and finally there is true love. All this and more has been on my mind for the last few days. I had mentioned in one of my earlier posts about the marriage brigade getting serious. I thought I’d follow the path of least resistance and let them do their scouting around. It really doesn’t harm me sitting so far away and they’re busy, believing they’re really working at something fruitful. It is a little mean, I agree, but a guilty conscience is a small price to pay for peaceful conversations every time I talk to them on the phone.

At the same time I realize that I may be ready to take the plunge too, if the opportunity for true love were to miraculously present itself. It isn’t unreasonable to start thinking about preparing oneself for this eventuality. So I took to thinking about what I would want from a lifelong relationship with someone. A lot of realistic, serious introspection followed and, as expected, it threw up a lot of questions on Love, Life, the Universe, and Everything. (No, the “Love” part doesn’t change anything. The answer is still 42. The “Everything” takes care of it, remember?)

Coming back to the questions, what is it that attracts one person to another? And where do you define the distinction between infatuation, or a crush, and, the heavier, love? Is it really as simple as one is purely physical and the other a meeting of minds? But then, as proved by the comments on Still Searching’s post, a lot of people believe you can have a crush by just reading what someone thinks, over the Internet. I mean, I thought the whole point of anonymity, or alias identities in blog-world, was the freedom to be a different person, write about and say things you normally wouldn’t want people who know you to read about. Why else does each one of us have a nickname and even if we know someone’s real name we know it shouldn’t be revealed. But then, we also add fellow bloggers as friends on Facebook, or Orkut, or what have you, when we stumble onto them in that parallel social universe. My personal favorite is when Facebook gives you the confirmation “You and XYZ are now friends. 12:08 pm”. I feel like saying “Thank you. I would never have believed it if you didn’t make it official!”

But I digress.

When you meet that special someone, the dynamics are complex and multi-faceted. You connect at so many different levels. You have to get along, you have to have your basic fundamentals in sync, you need to be comfortable in each others’ presence, you need to feel a flutter, and yes, you need to have that physical pull. It’s a meeting of mind, body and soul, to put in extremely cheesy words. You can spend hours talking to someone, spend nights driving around the city being in complete sync, but it may never go beyond a really beautiful friendship you cherish all your life. What was missing, you wonder? I don’t know, really. I guess it was just not to be.

On the other hand, you could know someone all your adult life but a single conversation could change everything you think you knew about the person. And you could start thinking of the possibilities. You could start wanting to believe in happy endings again. But if everything seems too good to be true, what should you believe?

But then, you talk to a friend who has been with her special someone for a few years now, and now is freaking out a month before they’re due to get married, wondering if it is right thing to do. If they don’t know after years, how can you ever know? And then you hear of another friend, and a cousin, who decided by meeting their life partners just once that this was it. And they’re happy. My cousin isn’t even a newly wed any more. My boss has been married for five years now and in his words – “The only way you can get a marriage to work is by behaving as if you’re newly weds for the rest of your life”. Could it really be that simple?

How can we ever know for sure? Do we have a snow ball’s chance in hell to find that perfect relationship? What criteria do we establish to decide? I haven’t reached any conclusions yet, but I do know this – You can have a crush on anyone. On a photograph, on a fellow blogger, on someone you see across the room every day, on a friend. You can love more than one person at a time, but I don’t think you can be in love with two people at the same time. And you can never be sure of anything.

I don't know where
Confused about how as well
Just know that these things
Will never change for us at all

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world?

-- Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

2007-09-28T11:12:00.000-07:00

Here's my first short story. It's a little long by usual blog post standards but I hope it holds the reader's interest long enough to get him/her to the end.

I'm dedicating this to my ex-roomie, who is now living far away all by herself. Her experiences, mingled with my current situation, gave me the initial idea for this story. I sincerely wish her the best and hope she stays safe and out of harm's way at all times.

Happy reading!

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Trust Me....

An inanimate foot lies elevated on a pile of blankets before me. It is a warm day and I need to take a shower but the thought of the throbbing pain in my useless sprained ankle dissuades me. I should work; God knows there is more than enough for me to do but I’m distracted and my head feels heavy, making it difficult to concentrate on the task at hand. It must be the pain killers. So I procrastinate a little longer. I am known to be lazy, but at the moment there is a restlessness which is driving me insane. I want nothing more than to shower, dress and run out into the open sun. I want to drive. I want to dance. I’d even settle for just being able to stand on both feet actually. But I shouldn’t think about that. So I lose myself in cyber world; immersed in news articles liberally sprinkled with brutality and hope, money and scandal, politics and ecological disasters I slowly forget the heaviness in my head and the immobility of my foot.

There’s a knock on the door. I look up, irritated, because it means I’ll have to get up in order to hobble to the door and see who it is, something I had spent all morning avoiding. Sigh! There’s another knock, a little more persistent this time. “I’m coming!” I yell back, as I struggle to balance on my good foot. The man at the door hands me a huge bouquet of flowers and a clip pad, asking me to sign for the delivery. Really thoughtful of him seeing how I can barely stand, I think to myself. I scribble a hazy signature across the receipt and shut the door, a tad too loud maybe. I’m usually a pleasant person but this house arrest has made me a little irritable. There’s a note in the bouquet. A lilac colored note with a message scrawled in the typical handwriting of a flower shop receptionist. It’s puzzling because I never get flowers. The flowers are set down on the first empty surface I can see and I re-read the note’s cryptic message.

“If you need a smile, I’m just a heartbeat away”.

Weirdo! Who is this? And why is this note straight out of a corny teenage sugar romance? Of course it’s unfair to assume it’s a guy but then I don’t usually have girls sending me corny notes and flowers. Then again, I don’t usually have guys bothering to either. It’s probably one of my moronic friends overdosing on Meg Ryan movies. Standing for this long is more than my ankle can take right now and the throbbing starts again; a not-so-nice reminder that I need to get back to bed. I mutter a curse under my breath and turn to hobble back when there is another knock on the door. “Who is it now?” I yell, my mood definitely not improving. I was sick of sitting but hopping around on one foot with a swollen, painful ankle is decidedly a lot worse.

I open the door, trying to balance against the frame for some support and look straight into a pair of grey-black eyes behind smart wire frame glasses. I see a face smiling without pretension, the smile of a child, open and friendly. The man at the door is tall, slightly built, with strong hands. I notice his hands because they reach out in a flash to hold me as I lose my balance and fall. I’m not sure if I went weak in the knees (or knee in my case) because I looked into his eyes or because my good foot just got really tired. All the same, here I am, confused, an unkempt heap, at the feet of this good looking stranger. As the bandaged ankle makes contact with the ground pain shoots through me and I let out a wail that may have brought several ghosts to life.

“Easy now” says a male voice, smooth and warm as good cognac. I’m scooped up as easily as if I were nothing more than a wisp of a girl, which I definitely am not. “I’m ok, please put me down” I answer, disconcerted by this latest development in my situation. He ignores my request, takes a few long strides and gently puts me down on the couch at the end of the room.

“I guess you didn’t really like the flowers” he comments on the bouquet lying on the shoe rack by the door.

“Who are you?” I ask staring at him, completely lost in the strangeness of all that is happening.

“Oh! Of course! How forgetful of me. Hi, I’m Keith” he says.

I continue to stare, one eyebrow goes up on its own accord and my face is pretty clearly asking him to continue to explain himself. I say nothing.

“I work at the bank across the street from your apartment complex. I see you walk to work every morning. I hadn’t seen you this past week so I thought I’d inquire if all was well. Found out from the cleaning lady you were hurt and badly needed some cheering up so I thought I’d drop in with some flowers and make you smile”.

Okay, now this was just absurd. I just can’t stop myself from staring at him and wondering if he’s serious. What planet is this guy from? What kind of a lunatic keeps track of people crossing his window every morning and then goes looking for them if they don’t appear one day?

“How did you know where I lived?” I ask suspiciously.

“Elementary, my dear Watson” he grins and then hastens to explain. “I just asked the cleaning lady on her way out this morning if she knew what had happened to the pretty girl who just moved in a few weeks ago.”

Smooth talker, this one. Hmmmm.

“So you’ve been sneaking around asking about me. Why?”

“I wouldn’t call it sneaking around. I was quite straight about it. As for why, well, you’re the prettiest face I have seen in a long while. It’s sort of like a lucky start to my day. You’re beautiful. And so unconscious of the effect you have on the people around you. I just felt drawn to you I guess.”

Okay, now this was just weird. Does he really think a line like that would work? I mean, some stranger walks in, brings me flowers to “make me smile”, and proceeds to wax eloquent on how my beauty makes his world a better place? What kind of a nightmare was this?

“What do you want?” I ask, a little rudely, unquestionably ill at ease under his open, honest gaze.

“Absolutely nothing. I took the day off from work on a whim. So I was hoping you’d just let me hang around and help you a little. I’m sure you could use the company. I wouldn’t mind spending time with a pretty girl like you. If you’re uncomfortable just say so and I’ll be gone.”

“Okay. In that case, I’m uncomfortable, so please leave and lock the door on your way out.”

Just at the moment there is another knock. I throw up my hands up in exasperation and try to crawl off the couch, but before I can blink he’s at the door. It’s a boy delivering a brown paper bag which smells of the heavenly bakery a block away from where I live. He pays and signs for before I can even say a word in protest. I gape at him, open mouthed, as he smiles and proceeds to the little kitchenette to get some plates and turn on the coffee brewer.

“I ordered this with the flowers. They’re a little late but I guess that’s alright. I know you like this bakery because you often stop there for coffee on your way to work and I guessed you probably haven’t gotten any breakfast in you yet. I hope you like donuts or else I could ask them to send up some bagels as well.”

Now I usually don’t like anything sweet for breakfast but the strangeness of the situation has me at a loss for words and I hear a small voice from within me say “Donuts are fine”.

“Great! Let’s get you comfortable then and we can figure how you want to spend your day after we get some fresh hot breakfast inside you” he says, as he bustles around, propping me up on the couch and setting up a tray with hot black coffee (just the way I like it) and some mouth watering donuts. In confusion, I spill some coffee and it wakes me up with a start.

“Please. Stop. I’m sure you mean well but I simply cannot have a stranger bustling around my apartment with such familiarity. I want you to leave. And take the donuts with you. Leave now or I’ll call the cops!” I realize my voice is shrill and I wince as I hear the panic ring clear.

This handsome stranger (did he say his name was Keith?) stops, looks at me, then walks to the phone which is lying in the corner, minding its own business. He lifts the handset, walks over to the couch and crouches till his eyes are at level with mine, holding the receiver out to me.

Once again his eyes mesmerize me.

“I know this is strange for you. I know it would be foolish of you to trust me. You don’t know me and it’s understandable you should be wary. I can only assure you I mean no harm. I think you need a friend right now and I’m only here to make you feel a little better. You can call the cops if you like but I can assure you I will leave before you need to do that. You’re stuck in the house alone and I’m offering you a little friendship. It can’t be that difficult to trust me for a little while, right?”

Is it that honey smooth voice or those deep, penetrating eyes? Or maybe it’s the way he has let go of the phone, to take my trembling hands in his own and is caressing them in the gentlest way possible, as if easing my reservations away. I don’t know why but I find myself trusting him; maybe even foolishly reaching out for a little human kindness.

Great! I now feel like the heroine of a cheesy romance novel!

“Good” he says, standing up. I find myself ravishing the donuts and eagerly gulping down the hot bitter coffee. Keith props me up with a few more pillows and gets me the coverlet from my bedroom, tucking me in with those gentle expert hands. He hands me my pain killers with a glass of water to drown them. And just as I begin to feel overwhelmed with all his kindness he takes my injured foot and begins to remove the bandage.

“What are you doing?” I ask, trying to pull away, but wincing at the effort.

“I was planning to put some analgesic on it and massage it for you. I thought it would ease the pain” he explains, as his fingers expertly move over the swollen joint. I can feel my eyes beginning to water with the pain, but I‘m not going to be weak so I try focusing on other things in the room.

Slowly the room before me begins to blur. The heaviness in my head returns and I can barely keep my eyes open. I hear that beautiful voice come to me from far away, telling me its ok to sleep a little and let the painkillers do their job. I let my head fall back and fall fast asleep.

I feel light. I feel weightless. I look around and see myself, lifeless, lying on the couch, white as the coverlet draped over me. There are people everywhere. Cops. Reporters. Neighbors. The cleaning lady is hysterical. She’s talking to a detective in rapid Spanish so I can’t understand what she’s saying. Another detective with gloved hands is picking up the half eaten donut and the silent coffee cups and putting them into separate zip lock bags. I look around but Keith is nowhere to be seen. My once neat apartment looks like it has been struck by a hurricane, everything scattered out of its place. I hover to the nearest group of reporters and try listening to them.

“Brutal murder. It was obviously someone she knew really well because there’s no sign of breaking and entering and there are two cups of coffee and a drugged donut. Why would she eat something from a stranger in the comfort of her own home? It looks like a robbery but the police don’t know if anything is missing yet. She was such a young girl. What a painful way to die, having your throat slit like that. Why would anyone do such a horrible thing?”

And I realize I cannot even cry.

2007-09-20T12:23:00.000-07:00

Of Birthdays, Gifts and Cake

I'm 27 today (yes, really) and this is going to be the best year of my life so far. The brooding melancholic "young nutty" has decided to be optimistic for a change. I have realized that my life is truly blessed.

I'm done with studying and exams, I have a job I love (I can't seem to say that often enough somehow), I have my own apartment, my first new car, I'm single and being wooed by an extremely eligible guy (no, not my guitar playing friend people... ah! now there's mystery!) and I'm living life one hip-hop lesson at a time! What more could I ask for (other than maybe a million dollars and a house in Bali, of course)?

I have friends who really truly care for me and believe that their love for me is demonstrated best when in direct proportion to the amount of cake they plaster on me. They search for fruit wine because, for some reason they don't quite understand, I wont drink alcohol these days and they respect that. They call at all odd hours to wake me up ask me what time it is in LA (it's 4:00 am!!) wish me a happy birthday and tell me to "go back to sleep!!". And if they don't get through they call again and again till they do.

I have a family which misses me every minute of every day because I'm not there with them. A family which never lets me see how weak they can be while I'm out here pursuing my dreams; in stead motivates me to get further ahead. They are my source of strength.

Yes. I really do have everything I need to make this a truly fantastic year.

Muuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
(... to everyone out there :D )

2007-09-14T18:28:00.000-07:00

Dreams and What ifs …

What if someone went in to your past, picked out your wildest dream, held it in the palm of their hand and offered it to you? What if something you had deeply cherished so long ago was right there in front of you, yours for the taking? Would you look at it in awe, remembering all that you had felt and wonder if it was real? Would you smile, amused at your naiveté and wonder why you had yearned for something so trivial? Or would it overwhelm you by how deeply you desired it still but had just forgotten about it in your journey through life? What if it was everything you wanted exactly when you wanted it?

And what if there was a catch?

What if your dream truly could be yours forever but it may not be exactly as you had imagined it? Think for a second -

That perfect home, but with a roof leak that could possibly never be fixed.

That perfect job, but you may never get promoted.

That perfect car, but it may have a bent fender.

That perfect life, but it may never satisfy you.

That perfect life partner, but you may never understand him/her or be understood.

Everything you ever wanted with the possibility of a serious flaw. Of course a possibility is always just that - that it’s possible. It may not be probable. It may never happen. But would you take that chance? Would you risk the death of your most cherished dream just to make it come true? Or would you step back and decline the offer, content to enjoy its perfection in your imagination.

What are dreams really worth if they never come true? What value do they hold if you don’t risk everything to make them come true? What possibilities do we overlook when we wish for our dreams to come true? Are dreams realized only if they are exactly as we want them to be? Or do dreams change with reality and must be constantly tweaked as we, ourselves, change as people?

What do you dream about most? Do you really want that dream to come true?

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On a lighter note, I had my first hip-hop class yesterday and it was a nightmare! The class was full of giggly girls in spandex stretching their limbs as if it were an advanced ballet class and my instructor turned out to be a 45 year old woman who is in much better shape than I could ever dream of being. Very disconcerting, I tell you. To add to that, my hip-hop moves look nothing like what they show on MTV. In fact, my best efforts at "shaking my booty" made me look like a side-kick in a Govinda item number! Extremely disturbing, trust me. However, I shall stick around for the next four weeks and try to "find my groove" and hopefully come up with something that I wouldn't be embarrassed to do even within the solitary confines of my bedroom!

2007-09-07T17:38:00.000-07:00

Caution - The blues ahead...

Since I’m known to be high-strung, people often recommend meditation to soothe my nerves. The problem is that I fall asleep every time I try to meditate. Isn’t that’s the most peaceful one can be – when sleeping peacefully? Similarly, I feel like I’m sleepwalking through life, living a dream that should end any moment now. I keep waiting for the alarm to ring and grim reality to set in. I’m not used to having nothing to fret about and the peace and good mood of the last few days is disconcerting. No disasters. No ugliness. No drama.

My long weekend was almost perfect. I re-connected with friends I had almost completely disconnected from. We went drinking, gambling (not really), boating and picnicking. We laughed constantly. We pulled each other’s legs and cracked old jokes; the pressure of the excessive emotional baggage we all seemed to have been feeling the weight of lately was completely lifted. It felt good to be carefree again.

So what I do when faced with an unusual situation such as this? Of course! I brood over it and then I write about it!

I have always had this nagging fear that my existence has no real meaning. I know that’s an age old profundity and the most common aspect of existential angst. I truly believe that we really don’t affect anyone other than our immediate family. In the bigger picture we’re completely inconsequential. It is this single truth which makes me most lonely. On further reflection, I realize that it’s a popular fascination, amongst most people I know, to believe they are alone, almost as if it is “cool” to consider yourself alone in a crowd. Even popular songs like Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day reflect these sentiments.

I think most of us like to feel we’re too complicated to be understood, hence alone in our troubles. We like to believe we are coping with issues no one else can appreciate. Having a problem that someone else can relate to, I guess makes one ordinary. And no one wants to accept that as much as they’re hurting right now they’re not the only one going through something like that. It’s almost as if a commonly felt heartache isn’t painful enough.

But how many of us do actually live a life which is anything but ordinary? By definition, very few (that’s why it’s ordinary, by virtue of its similarity amongst the majority)! And why is it that even when everything is going alright, I still look for something to brood over? Yes, I switch to my issues here rather than prevalent social trends. Are there others like me out there who cannot believe happiness is possible? If yes, why are we so happy to be sad, but sad to be happy? Do we inherently like being miserable? Why is it that, almost always, something tragic affects us deeper and stays with us longer as compared to something that makes us laugh? Does negativity have a stronger impact on the human psyche in general?

With such strong inclinations towards being unhappy, I often wonder what people live for. Most people have a list of achievements that they want to accomplish before they die. Some live for the people around them. Very few just live for the love of life. I worry about what happens when you have finished with everything in that To-Do list and the people you live for are gone. Where do you find that elusive love for living just for the sake of living? And when all is going right, what do you do next?

2007-09-01T02:43:00.000-07:00

Rhythm of your rhymes...

"Your choice of words is interesting. Are you a writer?" he asked.

Caught by surprise, I stared at him, hoping to catch a glimpse of what lay beyond the appearance he presented. Would he understand? He seemed to look at me as if he could see through me; as if I were a clear crystal souvenir and he could see the etchings deep within me. He seemed to be waiting for me to realize the answer that he already knew. "No", I replied unblinkingly, as if hypnotized by his gaze. "I'm a poet", I answered. And as I said the words, I knew them to be true.

He smiled at me then. I felt his confidence in me and I smiled in return. A smile which seemed to have the power to make me sing out loud to the heavens that be. It was as if I had found myself again. He patted my shoulder and said "Then I hope you find the rhythm for your rhymes". Before I could understand what he'd said or respond intelligently, he patted my shoulder and walked away. I stayed on the park bench long after he'd gone, still hypnotized by this chance encounter with a stranger.

I don't remember how long I sat there, confused, alone and cold. The joy had faded away almost as soon as it had burst forth. I knew that if I left that bench the moment would be lost and I might never understand my purpose in life. "...the rhythm for your rhymes" he'd said. The words echoed in my head but their meaning still eluded me. What could it mean? Why did I say I was a poet? Who was he?

Defeated and exhausted, I finally got up and began to walk home. Lost in my thoughts, I drifted back to my days as a child and I took solace in words that I had learned so very long ago. I could hear them faintly through the mists of the years gone by as I tried to sing along. It was an old hymn - Galilee's song and these were the words.

Deep within my heart, I feel voices whispering to me.

Words that I can’t understand; Meanings I can’t clearly hear

Calling me to follow close, lest I leave myself behind

Calling me to walking into evening shadows one more time

So I leave my boats behind

Leave them on familiar shores

Set my heart upon the deep

Follow you again, my Lord

In my memories, I know how you send familiar rains

falling gently on my days, dancing patterns on my pain

And I need to learn once more in the fortress of my mind,

to believe in falling rain as I travel deserts dry

So I leave my boats behind

Leave them on familiar shores

Set my heart upon the deep

Follow you again, my Lord

Yes. A poet I was. And if the rhyme is the form, the rhythm is the purpose behind the form. The rhythm is the existential force behind the poets rhymes. The words had always been in my head; all I had to do was put them together in harmony with me. The rhythm of my soul. My beliefs. My faith. My faith in me. For there is no greater religion than that of being true to oneself. If there be a God, He was the rhythm my heart beat to. The rhythm, which was source of all knowledge and strength known to humankind.

And it would be the rhythm of my rhymes.

2007-08-25T19:21:00.000-07:00

Resolves, conspiracies and close encounters of the marital kinds...

I plan to write something real one day. Actually I plan to write fiction so maybe not "real", so cross that out I guess. Let's start over. I always wanted to write a book and I was considering starting it now. I live alone so distractions are minimal and I have a lot of time to myself. It seemed like a good idea but, as any novice writer soon realizes, writing requires a lot of discipline and concentrated effort and I don't think I'm quite there yet. To add to that, I'm sure there are some, even among you my dear readers, who would agree that my grasp of the language isn't strong enough yet. Hence, I have resolved to discipline myself by writing a post for my blog at least once a week. I mean, I have to start somewhere!

First off, I wanted to take in to consideration a certain balding blogger's censure and keep my post light and humorous so I spent all day trying to figure out what I could write about that would be funny. I am not a funny person. My life is not the least bit humorous. I was so troubled by this task that I stood under the shower for fifteen minutes and then stepped out thinking I was all done, only to realize I hadn't touched the soap! So I went back under and continued to rattle my brains. I have dishes piled high in the sink that need to be washed, laundry to be done, a vacuum cleaner which needs to be inaugurated, a car that needs to go to the car wash and a dozen other chores. Yet all I can do is sit before my laptop and think! Oh! Well! I'll just ramble on for now.

This week I signed up for a hip-hop class at the local community college for five Thursdays starting mid-September. I'm quite excited about it. I was wondering what kind of people I'd find with me in the class. The instructor is white and female, so I doubt I'll find too many African-Americans. Considering it's a mid-week course at an unknown local college I doubt I'll find any other Indians there either. Which means it will probably be full of Mexicans. Sorry Latinos (oops!). What of the white population you ask? Let's not get ahead of ourselves, I do live in LA you know! There are no whites in LA!

Demographics of my city aside, I have been surfing on a stolen Internet connection for about a month now. No, I'm not a miserly freeloader. The Time Warner Cable Company guys have made three unsuccessful attempts to come install my Internet and cable but have surpassed themselves at failing miserably. Their next attempt is scheduled for next Saturday, which is the start of the long weekend, thereby putting an end to any plans I may have wanted to make. I think they're in cahoots with my boss. He probably is going to spring a surprise deadline on me later this week and wants to make sure I have no "prior commitments" so I can work through the long weekend. Ah! Now that’s a true conspiracy theory!

In fact I think my friends may be in on this too. You see there has been some talk of a trip being planned during those days but every time I ask "where to?" no one seems to know. The default reply is always "How does it matter? You’re not coming, right?". They may have been a little upset with me for giving the cable guy higher priority over them. Or maybe they've been bribing the cable guys to keep me tied up that weekend so that they can get their much needed break from me! I do believe I'm on a roll here with this conspiracy theory. Hmmm...

Unfortunately for them though, I do get some benefit from not having a net connection. Confused, right? Well the marriage brigade has been ringing my doorbell for a few weeks now. My family wants pictures of me to pass around. Thankfully, since I have no Internet (and my mother doesn't know about the stolen connection or the existence of this blog or my kodakgallery account) I have so far managed to keep all such requests at bay. I'm buying me some time to think of a really good way to get out of it this time. Any ideas, dear reader?

Such is the story of my non-funny life. And I really need to get to my chores. Sigh!

2007-08-18T20:21:00.000-07:00

Now that the brouhaha over I-day has died down...

I believe it is safe to publish my views on patriotism.

Patriotism is your conviction that this country is superior to all others because you were born in it.
-- George Bernard Shaw

It was this quote that actually got me thinking about nationalism, patriotism and what have you. Yes, I am Indian. Yes, I believe India is potentially one of the greatest nations of this world. Are we the best? Not by a far shot. Should we strive to do better? Undoubtedly. Does it mean every other nation is an enemy to be scorned or feared? But of course not!

This past week or so a lot of bloggers have written about our love for India and how it should be rightly expressed, the troubles plaguing India, the apathy of the educated Indian towards these problems, the vast divide in the living conditions of different sections of Indians, so on and so forth. None of these are new. It is pretty much the same conversation people have had every year around this time, ever since I was old enough to understand conversations. And yes, no one can deny their inherent truth. But there are a few points that still ring false in my mind and I only attempt to think out loud. Given the strong sentiments patriotism generally evokes, I would like to assure you, my dear reader, I love my country just as much as the next Indian and I do not mean to offend you.

While I’m at it, let me also add the disclaimer that I am no Economics guru or brilliant MBA GirlWonder. I’m also not an avid follower of the Indian GDP etc. and what I question here are issues as my peanut sized geek brain understands them.

A lot of people worry about how we're selling out to the capitalistic lure of the west, allowing MNCs to oust local competition, hence giving in to their obvious evil. They affect the economic growth. They take away local jobs. But do these companies not generate wealth in other parts of the world? Do these MNCs not employ people, albeit outside our country, providing a source of livelihood to a lot of families everywhere? Then what makes the livelihood of an Indian worker more important than that of another worker somewhere around the world? Once you accept this truth, the question arises: "should I buy Indian simply because I am Indian with no thought to what I want/need/like?". Of course, heaven forbid, I should actually say, I think some of the foreign brands are better than our homegrown products!

But lets move on to another aspect of jobs and industries and talk about outsourcing, be it IT, ITES or BPO as these also deal with people earning a living by competing with foreign competition. Everyone agrees it's OK for us to vie for these jobs, because as we claim, we’re cheaper, faster, better. With that logic, why shouldn't manufacturers, of every shade and hue, attempt to make an entry into the Indian market? It’s purely a matter of competition and if the Indian industries can’t take the heat they should get out of the kitchen, rather than complain about Walmart or McDonald’s or whatever else is considered to be the arch enemy these days. As a consumer, I would want the best and national loyalties, in this case, seem irrelevant to me.

The other issue of high debate has always been 'brain drain'. Somehow, I’m inclined to believe it is only those with the privilege of being born to a good life that can afford to speak against it. Everyone is entitled to work their way towards their image of a better life. Why should anyone be obliged to stay in a country/ state/ city/ town/village simply because they were born there? It’s really a matter of degree from where I'm standing. If it is OK to move out of a village in search of a better life why not move out of your country? I do not want to imply that India is a village among the countries of the world; it was simply a parallel to show how people may opt out of their current circumstances. In fact, considering India's problems, one might think the faster people move out the better it would be as there would be fewer people vying for the fast diminishing resources.

At the end of the day all the hue and cry comes down to "it has got to be better than this because I was born here". There is ego involved. The same sort of ego which would rather have hundreds of thousands of people (soldiers, natives, tourists) die rather than give away a piece of land to a neighboring country. But I don't even want to stir that hornet’s nest!

To me, Utopia would be a world without borders. Countries, as we know them, might cease to exist. Taxes would be paid voluntarily as one might pay for the maintenance of their homes. Traveling to different lands would be free. Citizenship would be a matter of where one’s heart feels at home. People would believe themselves to be children of this Earth rather than of a state or country.

Then again, Utopia will never come to be. A mutual respect may be the most we can hope for. This thought provoking quote, seems to me, the only answer to all these questions.

I realise that patriotism is not enough. I must have no hatred or bitterness towards anyone.
-- Edith Cavell

PS: Something completely off the topic (I rarely, if ever, mix train of thoughts, but this was something I needed to get out of my system so bear with me!) - something about friendships. If someone has to let go of one friendship to accept another, two questions come to my mind -
- was the first relationship really worth anything if it could be let go so easily?
- is the second relationship really worth accepting if at its very conception it brings with it pain and sorrow to someone you once cared for?

Congratulations! You reached the end! I applaud you!

2007-08-13T22:22:00.000-07:00

My "guitar playing friend" :-)

A few months ago I spent two nights out with a stranger and lived to blog about it. We talked (a lot!) and hit some sort of common frequency. And then he went away, but fortunately not from my life. Thanks to the Internet (I can't seem to be thankful enough for it now can I?!) we have been in touch, constantly in touch. We talk every day. He tries to wake me up on time, I try to make him sleep on time and the time difference works for us. In the last three months I have gone to the east coast one weekend and he came back to the west coast once.

What sounds like a long distance relationship to most is, in reality, something a lot more important for me. In my experience, friendships last longer than romances. And I have found a real friend. And this is my tribute of thanks to him.

I start my day with his coaxing me awake. He has the patience of a saint. He makes sure I get to work on time. He makes sure I eat well. He has persuaded me to give up sodas and brush my teeth every night. He tries to get me to cook dinner so that I don't sleep hungry. He is thoughtful and caring. He pays attention to the details. He makes sure I'm ok.

I know him to be strong willed, almost stubborn. He never gives up on something he wants. It is this reserve of strength that helps me keep up my morale whenever I get that down-in-the-dumps feeling. His take on life is unlike anyone else's I ever known. I know he went through some pretty difficult times in life and he's come out of it with dignity and I respect him for that.

Truth be told, while he is the one who has made me more careful of my grammar in my posts, he is also solely responsible for completely ruining my spoken English. He is funny and witty, sometimes bordering real genius! No matter what kind of mood I call him in, he can always make me laugh. He listens when I talk, which, of course, happens a lot. He tells me when I'm wrong and then immediately proceeds to make me feel better. He helps me in the most ridiculous situations and just makes my life so much easier. He has the map of LA memorized and always helps me get to where I need to go by the simplest route possible. His memory is awe-inspiring!

Oh! And of course he is, first and foremost, a musician. Did I tellya he's an awesome guitar player? Surprisingly it was not why we started talking but it certainly adds to the coolness factor! O Well! It doesn't hurt!

And if you're getting sick of the cheesiness and the nauseating sugar sweetness of this post - well now heres the truth! Did I tell you about his wit and genius? If you're not careful that wit will sucker you into promising a pure ego-boost post on your very own blog! Ok! Ok! I didn't get suckered into it. I walked into it with my eyes open in exchange for a stupid bet!

Oh well!

What can I say?! It's still all true and I'm still happy to be his friend.

2007-08-06T17:27:00.000-07:00

searching...

give me a reason
a reason to love
to look for a moonbeam
in the starless sky above

give me faith
in a single grain of sand
to hold all the universe
in the palm of my hand

give me the joy
of an unshed teardrop
to wash away the oceans
when the heartbeat stops

give me a sunbeam
or a bud in half bloom
or a pearl in its oyster
or a real peacock plume.

give me the beauty
of an age old prose
the wisdom of the ancient
in the thorn of a rose.

2007-07-30T22:39:00.000-07:00

I'd like to thank...

(my director, my producers, my co-stars, my fans, my family, my dog, my....)

Oh! well, I got tagged by Zee to come up with 8 things I'm thankful for (who picked 8!?) and even though she went on to 10 I'm going to stick to 8... at least I think I am...

So here goes -

Internet

If it wasn't for the ubiquitous World Wide Web, I think almost everyone I know would die! It has made itself an absolute essential in all our lives. I need it to stay in touch with my parents and family, my friends, my boss and colleagues. I need it to know whats going on in th world, how to to get to anywhere, downloading music/movies, where to buy, what to buy, when to buy, banking, Saturday night spots and of course blogging. You name it and I can either Google or wiki it. It just had to be the topmost on my list!

My car

My baby! My darling! My sweetheart! Ah! No reasons necessary... my Genie I am thankful for every single morning since I got her :)

My gadgets - my laptop, my cell phone and my Ipod.

Laptop, because it connects me to the above mentioned Internet. And even if there's no Internet it keeps me sane by becoming my movie theater or sound box as the need arises. Its got all my pictures (about 7GB at last count) which combined form my memories of 1.5 yrs in LA. My cell phone, because I would be completely lost without it. I'm a little paranoid about not having my cellphone with me charged and within range at all times. I like to know I'm a phone call away from help in case of any sort of trouble. Don't ask why, its just the way I am. And my Ipod for making the world dance to my tunes wherever I am :D Its one of the best birthday gifts I ever got and I'm oh! so grateful for it!

Bollywood

If anyone didn't know this about me as yet - well you do now! I love Bollywood! The good, the bad, the ugly. All of it. It keeps me sane. My roomies often said it was the panacea for all my troubles. I completely agree. I love every facet of it. The dramatic, the melodramatic, the ridiculous and the beautiful. I watch almost every movie released (I draw my line at Himess-bhai-Ressamiya movies) and I listen to every OST at least twice (some take longer than once to grow on you!).

Microwaves and packed foods

I used to love cooking at one time but that's history now. I now look for anything which will fill my stomach with minimum effort so packed foods and the microwave often save the day. Thank you for making so many dinners easy for me.

My job and my boss

I can't say this often enough. I'm so grateful I have a job that I love and a boss who isn't a pain. No guys, no one from work knows this blog exists so I'm not sucking up or anything of the sort (not that I'm above that sort of thing .. whatever works I mean, but you gotta keep your blog honest ya!). I'm so glad that I have the means of earning a living and paying bills doing something that I can do well and that doesn't sap all the life out of me. I wake up happy to go to work (not necessarily happy to wake up but then again we can't have everything!) and I don't mind staying at work for as long as it takes to get the job done. And my boss is a cool guy so phew! Thank God!

Credit cards

It is so much easier to spend on credit, though paying it back can be a bitch! But for now, what with new apartment expenses and what have you (Oh! I moved this weekend by the way!) I'm just glad I have my card :-)

People in my world

And just so that I don't sound completely materialistic, I saved the best for last - the people in my world! If I named them individually I would overrun 8 at least a million times over so lets just mention them under a single bullet. Of course I have to start with my parents and brother, they are my eternal life support system. I would of course be a goner without them. A close backup life support system would have to be those crazy knuckle-headed buffoons around the world who for some reason that completely eludes me are still my friends! Hats off to you guys! I don't know how you do it but I'm glad you still stick around. These people are spread all over the world from China to West coast USA and everything in between, going clockwise of course. Errr... and Australia... and Hawaii.... Oh! All over the world, you get the idea!

Of course, include yourselves in that list dear reader, I'm glad you're there to listen to me in all my moods and still come back for more!

So that's it. The top 8 things I'm thankful for. Of course I'm also thankful for electricity, painkillers, vending machines, ATMs, shampoo, oh! and deodorants! Oh yes! Thank god for deodorants!

And people can thank me because I'm not going to tag anyone specific with this beyond me simply because there are a handful of us who end up reading each others blogs and I already know at least 5 people who have been tagged so it will get kinda repetitive I think. But if you want to get tagged 'coz this is something you think you want to blog about - go ahead! consider yourself tagged!

So long and thanks for all the fish!

(dunno why... it just seemed like an appropriate end :P)

2007-07-21T12:21:00.000-07:00

Milestones...

Happy Birthday to ... errr.. me?

No its not my birthday! You'd know if it was. Exactly one year ago I started my blog. When I started out, I wasn't quite sure what it was all about. I often questioned why people blogged. It was a chore that never got ticked off my never ending to-do list. In fact when I look back now I really wonder why I started it!

Question for you dear reader - Why did you start to blog?

Well, for me, simply put my roomie convinced me. She said it would be something I'd be good at and I would like it a lot. She was an avid blog reader at the time. Not a regular at any specific blogs but she could spend hours hitting the next random blog link. All the same, she was right about me loving it! I'll leave to my raptured audience to comment on how good I am at it :D (Yes! Of course I'm fishing for compliments!)

As corny as it sounds, this blog has helped me get by this last year. It is here that I have vented and ranted, mourned and rejoiced. Philosophized, rambled on, mused and worried. Shared secrets, dreams and fears and cried out for help. Of course I shouldn't even mention the creative outpourings! (There are too many to hyper-link to, so just put in my favorite ones.) I have made friends, whom even if I never personally meet, I know they'll be there for me.. just a comment away.

Through this blog I have gained insights into innumerable lives. I started out with friends who have since then disappeared for a while and made many more along the way. Alternate points of view, mundane realities of different lifestyles, humorous twists to inane situations. I have seen read stories, been entertained. People I don't know can make me worry for them with simple lines in their post. I have realized strangers can care for you and you're not alone in this world.

And it has been a terrific experience! So... here's raising a toast to the wonderful year that passed and to the many years that will follow!

On a side note, few more milestones for today. Genie crossed her 1000 mile mark this morning. She makes me so proud! I also signed the lease to my new apartment this morning. Looks like the next chapter of my life is all set to start now and I can barely wait to move on!

2007-07-15T20:18:00.000-07:00

If no one knew who you were...

Would you be a different person?

Would you sing out loud, or hum quietly in your head?

Would you walk/dress differently? Would you wear more/less makeup?

Would you still listen to the same songs?

Would you play them loud to fill up the silence, or mute out the world to listen to yourself?

Would you read to occupy your mind, or write to have a conversation with yourself?

Would you dance like no ones watching? Or would you crawl up and sleep some more?

Would you eat what you usually do?

Would you spend more/less money?

Would you bury yourself in your corner? Or go out seeking a known face?

Would you still notice the inanities around you or would you be lost in thoughts of your own?

If you could be whoever you wanted to be ... would you still be you?

2007-07-10T08:01:00.000-07:00

These are a few of my (least) favorite things...

I am a person who is easily upset. I get wound up over the smallest of issues and am terrible at pretending all is okay. I also hate people asking me why I'm upset, when it should be quite obvious, so I decided I'm going to list the things that upset me most! Of course, in my infinite wisdom, I do realize this could result in a very long post, but I can only promise to try and restrain my rant :)

So here goes!

1. People who offer to help, and then don't.
As a general rule, an offer to help should never be relied upon, so, as a worst case scenario, if the promised help doesn't come through you're no worse off really. However it does upset me if someone volunteers to help, assures you of this, but then doesn't really do anything (for whatever reasons). It would be a lot better if they just didn't offer in the first place, or at least had the courtesy to say they couldn't and maybe apologize. It's worse when they don't even realize something's amiss! Knock Knock?

2. People who assume they know (anything/everything) better than you.
This is quite common of course. Everyone thinks they're better informed or better equipped when it comes to making the decisions in your life. So of course if you do proceed to take a decision on your own, they will almost always - a) be offended at not being consulted; b) insist on telling you, after you have gone ahead done what you decided to, that they would have done it differently/better.

3. People who take the slightest joke personally and puff up at you.
You're having a normal conversation, innocuous jokes, random leg pulling. And then out of the blue, at some statement that seems no more or less mundane than the ones before it, someone takes offense. Not just take offense but they then proceed to guilt trip you into having said anything at all in the last 25+ yrs of your existence. As if all you ever wanted was to hurt them and now, suddenly, from being the joker, you're the monster. Gimme a break ya! The world, at large, really isn't out to score points hurting you at random, you know? Unfortunately, a lot of things are said by a lot of people for no specific purpose and shouldn't really be over-analyzed. Take it at face value or leave it be!

4. People who don't fight fair.
I love a good argument. Give me an alternate point of view and I'd love to convince you otherwise or test my theories against yours. I hate it when people just don't let themselves get into a debate. I hate it even more when people pretend to pushovers and say "I dunno, I guess I'm just stupid" in that patronizing way which actually implies "I'm way to smart to bother having a decent conversation with a dimwit like you!". Well, if you say you're dumb, I guess I'll just have to agree with you, right? I mean I really can't argue with that statement now, can I?

5. People who get upset at you for something you have no clue about and then refuse to talk about it.
Best example that comes to mind - Phoebe refusing to talk to Ross because of something he said to her in her dream! There are so many times I completely identify with what Ross must have felt. I am an extremely vocal person (to the point of being annoying at time, I concede). As a result if something upsets me I almost always go up n tell the person in question why I'm upset. I expect the same courtesy. If I did something wrong (what can I say?! I'm human I guess!) I would, in all probability, like to make up for it. I'm a fairly decent person, I'd say. Not a monster of any sort. Just come and talk to me and we can sort it out! Its almost always as simple as that.

6. One-way expectations.
A lot of people expect you to make them a part of your life by talking to them when you need someone to talk to. They feel offended and neglected if you don't tell them about the job you got a few days ago or the car you bought last week. They want to be a part of your life. I appreciate that. They're always trying to make you feel like you can rely on them. But very few actually return the trust they expect from you. It upsets me when the above described person doesn't really bother to call/message/email me to update me on whats going on in their life but gets upset if I don't. It works both ways you know. I would always trust someone who came to me for help, rather than someone who didn't. Maybe my logic is screwy but it makes sense to me! And I'd love to debate it with anyone who's game ;)

7. People who're supposed to be there so that I can do my job, but are almost always MIA.
This one is mostly a work related rant. I hate it when I am dependent on someone else to get my job done (I believe its called team work) but that person's not there. If I have to sit around at work, stuck at a point and wait for someone to get his part done, it frustrates me and makes me very unhappy indeed! I'd suggest you stay away from me that day or I just might bite your head off!

8. Bad drivers who assume any space on the road is theirs for the taking.
Cars have indicators. Use them. If you want me to let you in front of me indicate your intent. Don't just assume that since I'm slower than you are I'm a pushover! This ones mostly because I'm a bad driver with slow reflexes and I need the people driving around me to be good! C'mon people get with the program!

9. People who write really interesting posts (in blog-land) with really bad English.
This is just heart-breaking. I see the thought behind the writing. I see how well-formed and expressive the content is. And I see how handicapped the blogger is by his/her use of the language. I'm not sure what irritates me more. The fact that the writer doesn't realize his/her mistakes or the fact that most Indian schools don't bother teaching their students the basic language constructs. I realize my English isn't exactly awe-inspiring. Maybe I should just let this one go for the moment...

10. People who get drunk and then don't have the manners to puke in the pot.
This is for all the ignorant drunks out there. Almost every place indoors which serves alcohol (including most homes I have been to) have restrooms/bathrooms, which generally come fully equipped with WC's. Thats where you should go to throw up if you need to. Not on the carpet, not in the corridor, not in the washbasin and not in the bins. The only place that has a flush and is wide enough to contain your upward flow is the WC. Use it! Of course, people outdoors or in cars are exempt, though I'm not letting a drunk anywhere near my Genie!

I think I can stop now. I'm not particularly fond of long rants either and I do bore quite easily so lets not run the risk of boring myself and my amiable readers (or at any rate, those that reached this far)!

I need a nice long cool drink! Phew!

2007-07-08T14:07:00.000-07:00

By popular demand :)

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you - Genie!

2007-07-05T02:17:00.000-07:00

A Genie in my backyard...

Last week I got myself a new sweetheart who's shown me a whole new world in just a few days. Her name is "Genie".

Genie is a classic beauty - chic, stylish, and glows in the sun with an unparalleled brilliance. She's the color of a polished diamond found in a slate of graphite. She's fast, like the wind but can come to a complete halt in seconds when I need her to. She slows down when there's too much of a crowd, helping me make my way in the world. She takes the bumpy roads as smoothly as the smooth ones, cushioning my travel through life. She's big and comforting, but unfortunately, too big too hug.

She's still quite young so I can't expect her to speed up beyond a certain level. She has a good appetite but seems quite happy on a full stomach for extended periods of time. Every time I go to her, she winks at me and then growls invitingly as if encouraging me to let go of all fears and take off into the unknown. I only need to look at her to feel a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

In all honesty, I was more than a little hesitant to have her. The first day I had her I didn't even want to be with her. I thought she'd be a demonic creature, speeding up my journey (and that of those with me) to the fires of hell. I thought she'd be wild and untamed. I thought I'd have a monster on my hands. I was terrified of the responsibility.

I was wrong. She's a dream. She gives me wings to fly, yet keeps me safe from falling. I know if I take care of her, she'll take care of me. She makes the impossible come true. Thats why shes a Genie, I guess. Thats why I'm absolutely in love with her!

If you haven't figured it out already - Genie is my new car. She's a 2007 Toyota Corolla LE, approx 6 days and 400 miles old. She's a phantom gray and a real pleasure to drive. I'm Oh! So happy to have her! Yaaay!

2007-07-02T22:58:00.000-07:00

Update!

Blogroll updated! Starting with links to two blogs that can officially be declared MIA .. all the same ... lotsa good stuff to read :)

A more exciting post coming up later this week :) Can't write more now ... alas!

Toodles!

2007-06-24T23:53:00.000-07:00

I believe I may be on my way to becoming a blog-aholic. Innumerable times through the last week I have thought about how blog-worthy my current circumstances are but by the time I get to spend "quality time" with my laptop, the happenings of the day seem either too personal or too trivial.

I really don't know at this point what I'm going to write about today. I do know I need to write. Just get some words out there. They may not be the words I need to shout out loud but they will have to do for now.

Far away lands and fairy tales do come true, if only for one in a dozen. Unfortunately I'm not one of them. With this in mind, I took a decision recently and as they say - with great decisions come great doubts, or something like that. (Yes, yes we all saw spidey, we all know the line... just humor me won't you?!). All the same it was something I needed to do, so, to hell with the consequences I guess. I only hope the collateral damage is minimal.

Someone read my previous posts recently and commented on how cryptic most of them were. Like it was an inside story meant to be understood by only those who know whats going on in my life. For everyone out there who agrees... I'm sorry. I can only share so much, I guess, without sounding like a total nut case bordering manic depressive :)

However on a lighter note, I do need to make a confession! I started a new job last month and I absolutely love it! There! It's out in the open now! My boss is not a mean bastard, my work does not bore me to death, I do not count the hours before I can run away and I do not get through each day surfing the net at work. Miraculous as it sounds, I'm still a programmer! I think I'm probably one of the rare few who can actually be both ... a software engineer and a happy person!

Note to self - From now on I shall fixate on the positives in my life for the moment and leave the rest behind. (Very good advice form a very good friend :D)

So that's my contribution to blog-land for now. Now all I have to think of is a random end to a very random post ... and I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep* :)

so... Goodnight!

* Song - Feelin' Groovy by Simon and Garfunkel

2007-06-11T23:33:00.000-07:00

Divorce... Or something like that.

I have a friend who has been living with her partner for over twenty-five years now but they're still not married. The way she put it is, when you've been living together for this long, whatever name you give it, it's still a marriage.

She is also a strong supporter of gay marriages since, according to her, there is really no good reason for gays to be spared the distress of being married! (Sounds good to moi :D !)

I, on the other hand, have been living with my room mates for a little over a year now and, while ours isn't quite a lesbian menage a trois (sorry to disappoint you guys!), we're still family. We're sisters from different parents. We fight, we bitch, we gossip and we cry. There are times we hate each other, but no matter what, we always stand by each other. This post is really not about my relationship with them and the past year that we have spent together. The innumerable testimonials on Orkut and at least a dozen older posts on this blog and others like it have already documented our friendship and consigned it to posterity.

This post is about what happens after.

Over the last year, we have made this dump (which our landlord calls an apartment) our home. We painstakingly picked out bathroom fittings and bedroom curtains. Most students wouldn't have changed a light bulb in their apartments. We have had everything, from blinds and window screens (which some of us call window meshes... err... "Where did you learn your English?!") to kitchen counter tops set in before us. With our limited means, we did up the place to make it our personal space.

Next month we're moving out and moving on.

We're not going to be living together any more. Though we'll always be friends we'll never be "roomies" again. To me it feels like a divorce of sorts. Last week we had our first conversation of how we're going to divide the kitchen effects. Who keeps what coffee mug. I know its just the first of many to follow. Its really not that bad since it will be amicable, by mutual consent. Yet I look around and wonder how we're going to lay claim on the million memories that beautify our living room.

Fridge magnets of the various trips we took together, shoes we bought together 'coz we share the same size (and, surprisingly, the same taste as well!), walls of photographs, of common friends and wonderful times spent together. Our extended family of stuffed toys, the lion co-existing with cows and the dolphin, the dog on the book shelf with the ridiculous pair of stoned teddy bears. The DVDs and the books, fact and fiction. I look at my room, my things, and I wonder how I'm going to decide what t-shirt to wear every morning. What would it be like to not have to worry about one of them wearing the same color that day?!

So much shared. So much forgotten. We make connections with the most mundane routines. Making three different kinds of tea, two different kinds of Maggi. We have to have something vegetarian and substantial with every meal (and no, daal does not count :-) ). Where we go, what we do, when we eat, it has to be unanimous. No one gets left behind.

I wonder why these connections should be considered any less life-changing than a marriage. And, is it really that unusual to mourn their death, even though it was inevitable?

Divorce. Its an ugly word. All the amicability cannot ease its pain. "We're still friends", they say. "We used to be family", remains unsaid.

This is my tribute to the unsaid. To my family. I wish you the best in the years to come. And no matter where I am, there will always be room for you in my home because you will always be family to me.

2007-06-03T10:19:00.000-07:00

Dream a little dream...

As she walked to the departure terminal for her flight back home, everyone around looked at her and smiled. A youngish girl smartly dressed in a business suit with the regular stroller and black laptop bag with a huge bowl of ice cream and a smile of pure joy on her face - it was an amusing sight, she guessed. But it was going to be a long flight home, and the ice cream was necessary she reasoned with her herself and happily dug in.

She settled in to her seat and was dozing almost as soon as the plane began taxiing. It was dark outside and soon she was somewhere far away in her dreams. Was it somewhere she wanted to be?

She dreamed of arriving at an airport, that was not her home. Most unusual she felt someone was there to receive her. She mostly traveled alone to destinations where she knew no one and had to get a cab to the hotel. It was her job and a way of life. She didn't expect him to be there waiting to pick her up. She walked out and saw him standing there and realized what airport she was at. And suddenly a fear gripped her. She looked into his face, searching for some sign to tell her he was happy she was there and this was going to be OK. It was not another one of her crazy whims and it was not something she had built up in her head. But his face was blurred and her memory of him, even in her dreams, was not too strong any more.

It had been too long she told herself with a small sigh, as the sleep drifted away for a little while before overtaking conscious thought again. And she thought of what she had searched for in that face she couldn't see. It had come to her, years earlier, as if in another dream and at a time when she needed a reason to hope. A reason to believe that if she worked harder things would get better. A reason to live. And in that desperation she had foolishly pinned all her hopes on that face. It had oddly enough helped her get by when moments of despair hit hard.

Her friends had not understood her quest at the time. Her search for a new reservoir of strength. It was one of them who had said - "Humans are nothing more than parasites, who leech off each other to get the strength to fight their daily battles. This is a relationship they call friendship, and the strongest in the group is often the loneliest". She had agreed and realized she was the biggest leech of them all at that moment and it was still not giving her the strength she needed. So she had tried to stay away rather than taint them with her weakness, and found solace in this dream of her guardian angel. In her dream she saw the black of the airplane window as a gap between her friends and herself, and she saw it widening into this infinite space till she could see them no more.

The lady at the back moved, nudging her awake and then by mistake brushed the top of her head with her fingers. It was a small gesture that transported her back to the room of her childhood, at home, where her mother would wake her up every morning, by patting her on the head and murmuring softly. It was still her favorite way to wake up. In her half-sleep she smiled. Thinking of her mother always made her smile.

As the plane hit the runway she woke up, just as easily as she did seconds before the alarm by her bedside ran every morning and sighed. Life, in some aspects, was still a dream to her. She had got all she ever wanted, the corner office at the multi national consultancy firm headquarters, the apartment in poshest sky scraper in the heart of the city, her space... all hers. Alone, by choice. Living her life by the day and doing everything her way. So she sighed her dream away and got ready to disembark. As she walked to the line of taxis outside, she stopped for a second and gave in to the temptation to look over her shoulder at the crowd of people waiting to pick up their loved ones and go home. Dreams could only be indulged in within the safety of the night. Gently chastising herself in her head she shook her head and turned away.

Dreams. Sigh.

2007-05-28T15:58:00.000-07:00

I am a river run dry,
A barren wasteland
that once was green.

I look to the heavens,
Seeking the caress of rain
on my thirsty parched skin.

I have no more to give,
All that remains is rock and dirt
In place of what used to be me.

2007-05-21T19:36:00.000-07:00

Another night ... Another dream ...

Yes, for those with insatiable curiosity, he called. Not the next day but the day after. He said - no ones home, I'm alone and itching to play the guitar and I got beer, you want to to come over?

I should have said no. Why did I say yes?

He picked me up, played the guitar while I hummed along and chatted like the night before until his friends came home at midnight, singing "Happy Birthday to you"!! It was his birthday! I guess its good I said yes! So we sat around, him, me and his friends, these guys drinking, playing the guitar, me making requests and humming along till everyone else dropped off to sleep and it was just us again.

I should have gone home. Why did I stay till the sun came out?

We talked about how bizarre this was, how completely unusual for both of us. Its really weird that we could talk this freely.. about everything! I really can't remember most of what we talked about that night. I do remember at one point we were discussing what fruits we liked and for some reason it seemed really important that we liked the same fruits! And then we just stayed together... completely at ease with each other waiting for the sun to come out.

He asked me if I'd come back after a nap and help him pack. I should have said no and wished him goodbye right then. Why did I go the next afternoon?

Like I told him, I do not know. We're not anything other than friends. Yet we're hoping we get to meet again. I know I am. He's barely taller than me, definitely thinner than me, and yes, almost 2 yrs younger. Home for him is the worst city in the world for me. He doesn't speak either of my native tongues. But he's sweet, and thoughtful. He makes me laugh just to hear the sound of my laugh. And he laughs with me, at the worst of my jokes (though his jokes are a lot worse than mine)! He makes this post extremely cliched and corny but I know if I were to read this with him we'd both delight in the cheesiness of it all. This is not a love story; its just a glimpse at what could have been something special.

I guess I don't want to really know how this ends. But for the moment, I think I made a friend.

2007-05-19T23:00:00.000-07:00

Strangers in the night...

If you spend the entire night with a stranger swapping life histories, sob stories and dreams for your future can you call the stranger a friend?

It all happened one Friday night... we (my roommates and I) were invited to an ex-colleagues "house cooling party" i.e we'd gone for the house warming party when he and his roomie had moved in and now that they were moving on to bigger and better things we were invited to another party to say goodbye. We didn't really know either of the guys very well, just acquaintances at school but it was deemed that we make an appearance so we did.

It was one of those nights when I was possessed by the lunar madness and my apartment and room feel like a prison and my cell respectively and I just had to get out. I needed the most frivolous form of human contact... loud music, carefree dancing, irrelevant banter, your regular party inanities. So we went. We didn't really know too many people there... even the hosts didn't know most of the people who showed up, so for me it was the perfect party for that kind of night. Of course the people I went with didn't quite like this, so we made an appearance and came back home after an hour.

Lets just say I wasn't quite thrilled to be back. I was craving some adventure though I didn't quite realize it. So after a while I called the hosts and went back. The party lasted till about 4:00 in the morning. All the while I found myself in conversation with my ex-colleagues roomie (at the risk of blatantly borrowing terminology lets just call him the boy). I'd met him only once in between the rising and falling of their house temperatures (warming/cooling) at another friends party the week before and had found him easy to talk to and comfortable to be with.

At this point I must add a disclaimer. Most people would like to believe I had developed a soft spot for the above mentioned boy and I was giving him a lot more importance than might be considered wise, if one were to follow the practice of giving men something to chase after. I'd like to first off discount any such notions. In my belief I was simply looking for someone new to talk to and hang out with so as to escape the boredom of my monotonous existence at that point; although I will grant the boy was certainly agreeable company and the evening was quite enjoyable.

When the party ended, and the boy was dropping me home I did what any well mannered girl would never think of doing - I asked him if he really wanted the night to end and if he was going to sleep after dropping me home. Since he had a commitment to drop a friend off somewhere two hours later, he said he wasn't going to sleeping yet anyways and if I didn't want to sleep either we could go for a drive. I agreed. In short, we spent the next few hours driving around town, talking, laughing, completely at ease with each other like old friends.

Its odd but I didn't feel like I was doing any thing crazy or risque. I know from past experience that my uninhibited behavior could have been misconstrued, he may have mistakenly assumed I was coming on to him, he may have considered me a social leech who just refused to go home for the night... or any number of other social faux pas. But he was there, driving, telling me about himself, listening while I talked, not irritated by my propensity to talk A LOT, and I don't think he looked all that uncomfortable either :D

Of course, all good things must end. We had exchanged phone numbers, he promised to call and make plans to meet up before he flew out of town. I assured him he didn't need to worry about it too much if he couldn't. We both knew we'd probably never meet up again. And I came home that morning feeling happy and light.

I would have said I think I made a friend. But since he never called back, for whatever reasons I care not, I shall leave it as a delightful night shared with an amiable stranger on the streets of LA. And look back at it with a smile.

2007-05-18T12:28:00.000-07:00

Is it just me ...

Or has the world run out of things to say?

I feel all dried out ... like nothing is actually worth writing about any more ... Everything we dwell on is over hyped and exaggerated in the importance we give it.

Ah! Got it! I think I'm on my way to achieving Nirvana! ;)

PS: I'd ask if you agree but that would mean I care about what the world thinks ... so not Nirvana'isque! And of course the fact that not too many people read what I write anyways :D

2007-05-06T11:14:00.000-07:00

Circle of Life

I have been to the end of the world
and back
I have seen the end
And the beginning
There is a new me born again

I have been here before
Yet I am the stranger
I belong in this place and time
Yet I know not if this is true

I belong in a different world
and today is just another halt
in my journey through life

I have lived a life so familiar
I have lived as if in a dream
I live a life no stranger than fiction
But, the truth is - I live.

I know not what tomorrow brings
I care not what shall be
If yesterday was beautiful so shall tomorrow be
If not, in its pain, shall lie a beauty still.

Such is the circle of life.

2007-04-16T01:16:00.000-07:00

Red

Red is the color of life,
Coursing through the veins of time,
Unstoppable, invincible, insuppressible
It waits for none.

Red is the color of death,
A stain on the hardwood floors.
It flows like a river before me,
And washes away with the morning tide.

2007-04-13T18:22:00.000-07:00

Seek and Ye Shall Find...

Does anyone have any idea how troublesome it is to have the most adorable network of friends in the world?! I mean, they're soooo tuned in to you that they just do not let you fade away into your black hole of misery should the opportunity for to do so ever arise.

Anyone reading this blog, even intermittently, will know I haven't quite been at my brightest lately. There are a lot of bloggers out there and while some just log their daily activities online, or review whatever latest trend they come across, there are the really funny bloggers who seem to be out there to make you smile no matter what. I really envy them. They find something funny to write about every time!

I am the polar opposite. All I do is ponder and brood. A lot of times I whine. My life, if seen through the eyes of this blog, seems to be one never ending sob story. Well I'm better at sounding profound (hehehe!) rather than entertaining (quit cracking up .. I'm trying to be non-funny out here!). And the last couple of weeks I have been at my damnedest lowest.

I know a lot of people get the blues and go through the dumps. Here is my advice to them. Friends are actually the panacea of all ailments. Reach out to them and you'll be surprised at how well they bolster you. They're like a bunch of life suffusing creatures who know just how to make you take your head out of your dark corner and look toward the sunshine. And if you truly believe your friends can't make everything okay .. get in touch with me! I have some really amazing friends who I know are angels in disguise! I won't mind sharing them with you!

This is my way of saying thank you! I don't know how I'd have come out of my misery if it weren't for you beautiful people out there! You're my miracle come true!

2007-04-09T23:42:00.000-07:00

The End of the Road

"This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end

Of our elaborate plans, the end
Of everything that stands, the end
No safety or surprise, the end
I'll never look into your eyes...again"

The End
by The Doors

Tomorrow I reach the end of my road. Its my last chance and I have given up on it before even reaching it. Tomorrow it all comes to a stop. Tomorrow I throw in the towel and hang myself out to dry.

I don't know what will happen by I do know this is it.

2007-04-06T17:06:00.000-07:00

What tangled webs we weave!

Have you ever got the feeling that there are too many people watching you? Asking about how you are, wanting to know whats going on in your life, giving advice, analyzing your mistakes and shaking their heads worrying about how you're going to do anything in life on your own?

Lately I've been feeling too... connected (for the lack of a better word)! The chat messengers are always logged in, the emails notifications are always on, the scrap notifications from Orkut are always on, I'm constantly in conversation with someone through at least one of these mediums. As a result all I do all day is sit in front of the laptop and type. If no one's online I get restless, irritable, cranky. A sense of purposelessness takes over. In short, the global village is highly addictive and is making me neurotic. To the extent that I just want to cut ties with everyone I possibly can. Retreat into a cocoon of peace and silence. Bother no one and be bothered by no one in return. Get in touch with me again. Think of stuff going on in my head, work out my problems, and just be okay with the decisions I make.

So thats exactly what I did. I stopped monitoring my Gmail, signed out of Gtalk, stopped orkutting, started staying by myself whenever I can help it. I even cleaned out the wallpaper on my laptop to a blank neutral pale blue. gone are the pictures holding memories and crowded thoughts. I'm not upset or down in the dumps. I'm perfectly okay. Maybe not too communicative. But at peace.

I don't know how long it will last. For now I'm just enjoying the peace and quiet.

2007-03-28T11:27:00.000-07:00

Musings...

Naught have I learned in all this time
But how to write a broken rhyme,
What do I have to show for it all?
I tried to fly when I could barely crawl

I go through the motions, I play my part
I cry, I hide, wait for the sympathies to start
I cringe with shame, I feel so fake
I eyed what wasn't mine to take

There's a truth out there
Though elusive it may seem
A reality to face up to
Of who I am to be

What is it that I must really seek?
It cant be this, this dream so weak
There's no fire, no fight remaining
I know I must, but the will is waning

How will this end, does anyone know?
Will I be happy or just another sad soul?
Will there be peace at the end of it all?
Will I survive this, or perish in the fall?

2007-03-18T03:37:00.000-07:00

Fantasy Overdose!

The last week seems to have gone by like a dream. To be honest most parts of it are a blur but what I do remember of it was most memorable! But lets start with the disclaimer - What happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas! And on anonymous blogs of course!

Yep! Vegas was the first leg of a wonderful fantasy week! It started last Friday, when my roomies and I stayed up all night packing and trying out a dozen different outfits to make sure we took only those we looked hottest in. We got to Vegas on a bright sunny Saturday morning and we were raring to go. The two guys we were supposed to meet up with had checked in the night before so our first task was to sneak into the hotel room booked for just 2 people. As expected the guys who'd got there the night before were out stone cold. I mean 2 guys on a night out in Vegas, it would be stupid to expect anything else! All the same, it was quite amusing to see the paper napkins with phone numbers!

So we started off with a good scrumptious breakfast buffet at the Excalibur, got suckered into some timeshare presentation which got us free show tickets but more on that later. Then we finally got the guys up and about and hit the town. Vegas visitors beware! If you plan to go clubbing in Vegas you better be prepared to be dressed in party formals! Sneakers aren't allowed anywhere! We of course learned that the hard way. All the same we got to see the outside of a lot of Vegas nightclubs and we're definitely headed back (with formal shoes) really soon!! We finally found Cleopatra's Barge at Caesars Palace which was a little more accommodating and we proceeded to get drunk! When they closed an hour later they allowed us to take our drinks with us , very normal in Vegas, yet we were more interested in dancing on the now empty dance floor to loud out-of-tune "Kajra re..."!!

We then moved to the all-night sports bar at the MGM Grande.. and I'll end it there because I'm not quite sure when or how we got back to the room that evening.

We slept in for most of the next day (obviously!). We got out in the evening for the necessary sightseeing and looked at all the hotels. They are beautiful! It is the miracle of money to build a city like Las Vegas in the middle of the desert. A little bit of gambling with borrowed resources and common pool of luck got us winnings of 20$ so all in all it was a day well spent.

The guys flew out the following day and we 3 girls were left to our own devices for the last 2 days. Ah! Did I mention the free show tickets? Any guesses what show we picked? Try this. A group 6 Aussie hotties (umm...well not quite hotties but will do ;) ) teasing a roomful of women into a frenzy by strategically showing them just what they want to see! Ths is a truly a country full of wonders. While most of the women in the room were pretty much climaxing, the three of us were in various stages of disbelief! One of us was waiting to get out and wondering why she let herself be dragged into this, another just taking everything in with the attitude - "aisa bhi hota hai?!" and then there was me .. I just couldn't stop laughing! All the Vegas strip shows showcasing women .. and then there is this show - Thunder from Down Under (I swear I didnt make up the name!) which has full grown men making utter fools of themselves. And add to that the women actually drooling over them! It is quite "interesting" to see a seemingly alright man shake his booty trying to make you go weak in the knees. And I don't mind boasting that the 2 cutest guys came by our table and kissed me! On the cheek of course! What vivid imagination I tell ya!

We were of course already drunk on half yarder cocktails before the show. For the uninitiated its a a glass which is half a yard tall. After the show we moved back to our favorite sports bar at the MGM Grande. We spent the remainder of the night flirting outrageously with this group of Aussies who worked at Daimler Chrysler and had come, on company expense, to see the Nascar. As a friend told me - with alcohol the men get bolder and the women looser ;) Nothing happened guys!!! Tut! Tut! What are you thinking!?

Anything more about the Vegas trip and this post will undoubtedly get too long! Let me move on.

Later this week I went to Disneyland. Quite a contrast I know! Its fantasy all the same! Its beautiful! All I could think of was what a deprived childhood I'd had! I walked through Mickey and Minnies house, met Goofy and Pluto, took the "happiest cruise that ever sailed", went on the Mad Tea Party, flew on Dumbo, and saw the Muppets in 3D and Aladdin live! It was truly the "happiest place in the world"! All those lil kids dressed as princesses and knights... it was adorable! Of course by evening the kids start getting tired and cranky s all you hear is their wailing. And the background Disney music begins to get to you.. it isn't quite as cute any more. That when you decide to head home! Note to self - Remember where you park the car next time!!!

I had to sleep a total of 14 hrs to get back to normality! Yet they were experiences of a life time. I don't know when I'll to back next to either of these dream locations ... but for now I'm very happy :)

2007-02-23T12:12:00.000-08:00

Just a thought...

If you're going to do anything in life make sure you see it through to the end. Don't quit midway. So if you're going to fail you might as well go all the way and fail miserably! At least that way you have the distinction of being the most miserable failure ever!

Its just a thought of course...

2007-02-20T01:30:00.000-08:00

Change is the only constant...

I started this post titled "How the mighty fall" but I decided it needed to be more positive so I renamed it and started again. I have been accused lately of being too negative. Apparently I'm so pessimistic I depress people and make them doubt their confidence and optimism. This post is, hence, in my defense.

No one is born feeling all powerful. I don't think I'd even like to be "the best". No margin for error. The 4.0 GPA, the 1$20K job, the big names and the million dollar dreams. Perfection. I'm not even sure if anyone has the right to consider themselves infallible. Yet, there must be some confidence, a feeling that you know what you know and somethings you just can't be wrong about. Something you can do better than anyone else in the room; even if that something is as trivial as flipping an omelet with one hand and no spoon.

Where do you draw the line then? Its obvious that at some level its a relative ranking. If you're better than your siblings and cousins you're the smart kid in the family. If your grades are higher than everyone in class you're the smartest kid in class. But does that make you really smart?

I'm older than my friends here. I have more "experience". I know more simply because I have lived longer. I'm so used to doing stuff they are still learning about that it makes my life a little easier than theirs. So by default it is assumed that I'm the smarter of the lot. And that's something that cracks me up. You see I have never thought of myself as the smart kid. I've never been a front runner in anything ever. My mother says I lack a killer instinct (but that's a whole new post on its own so lets not digress). So when my friends start looking at me as if I really have life's mysteries worked out... well I'll be honest - its intoxicating. So I play to the gallery, put in some more flourish to my act and eventually start believing I am the better person. You see I know more [self satisfied smug face]!

And then the cocoon tears open and its time to face the world again. Its time to go out and get a public certification on just how good I am. You see since I have been the "dude" for a year, its simply taken for granted that the millions will follow. After all who can say I am not good enough?! Of course those who put you up on the pedestal don't stop to think what will happen when your world comes crashing down around you and you're back on good 'ol Mother Earth.

Its then that the truth comes forth. I was always just ordinary and its nothing new. But my confidence was built on false foundations and when those were shaken I couldn't stand it. Should I blamed for being unnerved? Should it be expected of me to withstand the fall and still revel in my ignorance of just how great I am? And why should my fall affect anyones confidence anway?In truth, people want you to believe in this false brilliance, because when you fail your own expectations and they do better that you (in terms defined by mankind at large), they can feel a sense of accomplishment and pride. Its not malice. Its the repetition of history. They set themselves up to be the next to fall. Just like I did.

And then its not just about putting myself up on a pedestal. I do it my friends too. The friend I always call when I'm in trouble. He of course in my eyes can do know wrong. I get drunk he takes care. I worry, he soothes. I don't know what to do, he helps me figure things out. And then one day, he worries and I realize I must soothe him and I don't know how! I never thought he had to worry about anything. He is always doing everything right. He gets drunk and I have to take care. He is confused ... but do I now help him out? No! I'm scared out of my wits because I don't have a clue!

And so it goes on. The only thing that changes is the names. I will, in due course of time, go back to being ordinary. And I will realize no on is infallible. Or perfect. Not even my dearest friends. And I will be OK with it.

2007-02-09T16:02:00.000-08:00

So what's next??

I'm a person who likes plans. I don't like changes and I don't like surprises. I definitely don't like not knowing what's next! I need to know what's next. Even if I'm not doing anything next I need to know that so that I can be prepared to vegetate! I do not like "playing it by the ear" or "going with the flow"... unless I plan to do so in which case I actually think up all my options in advance and decide what I will feel like doing when I'm "playing it by the ear" :-)

So when I reach a place in my life where I have 3 months more of planned activity and the rest of my life in a haze its not surprising that I panic. I don't know what is going to happen after I graduate in May. I don't know where I'm going to get a job or even if I'm going to get a job. I don't know how long my funds will last to stay here without a job. I don't even know what I'm going to do if I don't get a job.

All I think about is what if? What if it really does come to worst case scenario? What if I really don't have a clue? What if none of it works out? Besides being a complete waste of (lots of) money and time and effort, what will I do? I mean for the rest of my life... what will I do?

Maybe this will have to be one of those posts that just don't have a clean wrap up end. Till I get to May 2007 I guess I will just have to fret!

2007-02-05T17:39:00.000-08:00

No Single-hood allowed!

I finally started studying this semester and the 1st lecture in my algorithms class was on Matching algorithms. So here's the 1st problem that we discussed in class for which an algorithmic solution is required -

There are n men and n women each of who has a clear ranking of who they wish to be paired with. We need to match the men and women such that there are no singles remaining and there is no polygamy. Also it should be such that no man prefers another woman who also prefers him over her current partner. In mathematical terms, the pairing should be perfect and stable.

We start with each man "proposing" to the woman on the top of his list. The woman at this point is not quite sure if she wants to marry this man but since she is also not sure which other men have her on the top of their preference list she may run the risk of "being too choosy and ending up alone" or "compromising and getting engaged".

The solution as taught to us in class? The optimal solution suggested that the women compromise and get engaged but they would be free to break this engagement and get engaged to another man who proposes and is higher on her list. The solution went on to prove that though it seems like the men are getting a rough deal with the women dumping them for any man she prefers, they are actually more likely to get a better deal than the women. If the women had done the proposing they would have been better off.

Ah! now you see what got me started on this blog!

I know a lot of my friends are getting married nowadays. And a lot of times I wonder if its to the man on the top of their list or just the best man who proposed. And if in reality that is the recommended solution. I mean - say yes to the first guy who asks coz you never know if you can do better. And it scares me. I grew up believing in the fairy tale, the perfect guy with eyes only for me and of course we lived happily ever after! But I'm older now, and I've seen that the perfect guy was not quite so perfect and we didn't live happily ever after. I've also been "proposed to" and by some amazing guys but I didn't say yes because I still wanted to believe in the fairy tale and they were not my "perfect guy", my top of the preference list.

Its also a little pathetic that an Algorithms Design class can make start thinking about this! Of course, the solution in class claims that everyone is happy because they get the best match possible. But we all know reality is a little different. I'm not quite sure why but over the last few months it has been worrying me that my fairy tale has still not come true. Yet I'm not at all convinced that ranking the possibilities and settling for the best match possible is the way to go either.

I guess life's solutions aren't as perfect or stable as the solutions for algorithmic problems. And maybe I need to re-iterate to myself the conclusion I reached in my last write-up.

"I know I need something, someone, somewhere. But I also know I’m not going to find it any time soon so I have to be patient and wait. And make the best of today. I know I will be OK."

PS: I also need a new roommate! My current one keeps pushing me to write and hence I end up with pointless posts like this one on my blog :P

2007-01-30T00:29:00.000-08:00

Warning: Rambling ahead...

I’ve spent way too much time in an airplane or at an airport in the last six weeks. Since I have been traveling mostly by myself I have realized airports/airplanes are the perfect place for introspection. After the mandatory phone calls informing anyone who cares that your flight is on time etc. there isn’t much to do but be by yourself and think.

So I’ve been thinking. A lot. About where I’m leaving from. Where I’m going to. My trips. My days at my last destination. Anticipation of what’s next. And as luck may have it, a lot has happened that needed thinking about.

Old friends, old relationships, old hometowns. Everything changes with time. Its foolish to expect them to remain the same. There is too much to write about in a single write up. Too many things going around in this head. And I don’t know where to start. It would be best to break it up in to multiples columns but then I don’t want my reactions to fade with time so I’m going to put it all in one.

Part 1 – From an airport in an exotic land to an airport back home.

Old friends. The best kind of friends. People who you feel you’ve known forever. These are the people I live my life by since I haven’t lived with my family for the last 20 years. They may be spread out all over the world today, but they’re family to me. A drunken phone call is not the same as a not so drunken evening together. And their friends may be wonderful people but for one evening even when you’re with your best friend in a foreign land, you’re the outsider.

Languages bind and languages divide. And if the divide exists there is nothing that can be done about it. All the love in the world can still make you feel hurt and alone. Even if just for an instant. But the love stays on. Different cultures, different countries, different languages, different friends, different lives… none of it changes the love between old friends.

Part 2 – From an airport at home to an airport somewhere half way across the globe.

Why cant we have world class airports? They’re just buildings. Why cant cheap marble have been replaced by basic carpeting, bus lanes and exits be a little wider, air conditioning a little more effective and phenol be replaced by a nicer smelling disinfectant? Do we have to advertise the fact that we’re a “Third world developing nation”? Do the people who think this up really think it adds to the Indian appeal? Is a bad airport supposed to bring in foreign tourists?

Anyways…

Relationships. Lets start with the kind you cant choose. Family. Now that’s something that will never change. Now matter how different a person you are today for your family you’re still the person you were 5-10-15 years ago. Nothing is going to change how they feel about you. If you didn’t get along with your cousins growing up, chances are you’re never going to. The family that bugs you, they hurt you, you hurt them back, all the troubles, all the guilt and resentment. End of it all, they’re family. You have to love them. You cant help but love them. They’re a part of who you are and you’re a stronger person knowing they’re there.

Relationships you do choose to form. Ah! If it were only as simple with them. I think there is something wrong in my head these days. I just cant seem to get any of these right! This is where air travel helps! I realized the difference in my personal and professional life. Career decisions for me are easy because there is clarity of vision. I know what I want and how to get it. There is a timeline and a plan. Personal life… phew! I continue to love someone because I don’t want to admit that I may have made a mistake. I cover up for my mistakes (which I may never admit to!) by losing myself in relationships I depend on and corrupt those as well. I don’t know what I want to be, or who I want to be. So I end up being a different person with different people… experimenting with the kind of person I want to be. And sometimes I get confused and I mix things up. And I end up hurting people. I say something, I mean something else and I want something completely different. There is this huge fear of not being accepted and this need to be everyone's favorite person that makes me an actor playing various roles, in various stages of an act. Often reality gets mixed up with fantasy. I want to apologise but I don’t know how. And I just don’t know how to fix things with the people I really do care for.

Part 3 – From my current pit stop to an older pit stop and back.

Its alright… after reading the above paragraph, you are allowed to think I’m borderline insane. Truth is not of the above makes sense. They’re just abstract emotions I’m trying to put into words but there seem to be no words good enough to express myself.

I realized I don’t yet have a home. Someday I will but that day isn’t here yet. No. My parents home is precisely that – my parents home. Its not mine. It never will be.

I’m confused, I’m tired. I don’t what I want any more. But I’m going to figure it out.

I know I need something, someone, somewhere. But I also know I’m not going to find it any time soon so I have to be patient and wait. And make the best of today. I know I will be OK.

I’m going to be happy. No matter what. I am going to sleep!

2006-12-03T15:32:00.000-08:00

HELP!

I just cannot study! Someone get me through finals week somehow... anyhow!

I should just curl up n go to sleep n never wake up....

2006-11-18T00:33:00.000-08:00

It couldn't get worse...

There is a saying that almost everything that we like is either immoral, illegal or unhealthy...

What is it that makes us want that which we know isn't good for us? Too much wine, too many fatty foods, or too many late night conversations with the ex that just isn't right for you... the bad is always more appealing than the good.

Why is it that life just doesn't cut us some slack? Why couldn't it just be easier for us to do the right thing? It always seems like a much better idea to pick the easier way out... why couldn't the easy way be the way to go?!

Eternal questions... I know... still.. they come up now and again... I just wonder if there is any answer...

2006-11-05T21:51:00.000-08:00

The beast within...

I'm not a nice person. I don't have too many friends and I was certainly never the popular one. I grew up always being told "Why can't you be more pleasant? Look at your older brother, he gets along with everyone... Why cant you just get along with people?!" Over the years society, family and I, myself, have made me the person I am today. Seemingly pleasant, charming when I need to be, polite, good-natured, friendly. If you didn't know me all that well you'd maybe even say I was a nice girl.

But every once in a while, the true me rears its ugly head and a volcano of venom erupts. All the ugliness comes pouring out and burns down my facade. The truth laid bare for all to see. Its not that great a moment for me either though it is decidedly worse for those around me. I am at my most vulnerable, my weaknesses exposed, giving me no control over my emotions, losing all rational thought. Its not something I enjoy... it leaves a bitter taste in the mouth for days to come.

The aftermath brings doubt and self-pity. Who am I? Why am I this way? Is it really wrong to be short tempered and rude (to the point of being nasty) and irritable? I guess its OK if you don't mind not having any friends. If you're comfortable in your own shell oblivious to the wreckage your bitterness leaves around. Of course its not fair to expect anyone in the world to understand you. And then again I barely understand myself! I have had a picture perfect life; no abusive or broken family, no cash troubles or hard times, no major traumatic experience. And yet I keeping pushing away this rising feeling of bitterness against the world in general. It makes no sense.

So I sit and write hoping the words will flow and show me some rationale. But the words just intensify the void within where a beast sleeps, sated for now... And while I wait for the last outbursts effects to fade I know in time the beast within me will wake again.

2006-10-28T00:23:00.000-07:00

Me got Stupid back!

He's back! I'm sooo happy! Muuuaaah!

2006-10-27T11:16:00.000-07:00

You miss them most when they're gone...

Stupid, my dog, disappeared from the house last week. My parents and the people around searched for him 2 whole days within a 2km radius, before giving up. Mum didn't have the heart to tell me till last night. And he's all I can think about since...

He came to our family in April 1995 as a little ball of white fur. He was now getting old, blind. And he was always stupid! All I can think about is how is he fending for himself wherever he is now... How is he eating? Mum says he'd stopped eating for quite a wile now .. down to 1 meal a day. He'd stopped going out of the house. He'd just follow mom all day doing nothing in particular, passing his days peacefully. Now he's either lost in unfamiliar territory trying to find his way back or someone just picked him up and walked away. I only hope if someone did pick him up they're keeping him well.

When he was a young pup, growing up, he would disappear every night with one of his many girlfriends. Mum and me would be up half the night torches in hand yelling his name on the dark roads - "Stuuupiiiid!! Where are you baba?! Ghar aa ja bacche, nahi toh bahar lock kar dungi!!" [come back home or I'll lock you out] . And he'd always come back romping around playfully, as if he knew he was going to get in trouble and wanted to be at his cutest. He'd probably also had a real good time and was just thrilled!

Sitting here, I know everyone at home is doing the best they can but I just desperately want to be there, walking the streets calling for him, hoping my voice will reach him where no one else's can.

Whats most scary for me is that when I go home this time, he won't be there. He won't come running out to meet me. He won't sleep by the foot of my bed n come sniffing my nose every morning to wake me.

I cant believe I'll never see him again. That it was meant to be this way, a phone call from home, one sleepless night, one sentimental blog and gone...

Stupid....you stupid stupid dog! Wherever you are ... please come back!

2006-09-21T04:03:00.000-07:00

September 20th, 2006

Happy birthday to me!!

2006-09-14T00:29:00.000-07:00

Friends Forever...

Friendships change over time. Sometimes they change so drastically that in an instant what you once felt is gone. I'm not sure if I'm the only one who has been through this .. but there are moments when one realizes that some friends are like ships that pass by night... and some friendships transient.

Who is a friend at the end of the day? Someone you can talk to about your deepest fears and craziest dreams. Someone who gives you a call the minute they just have to share something. Someone who stands by you when you make the saddest of jokes or your life's most important decisions. The drunk call in the middle of the night, the cry for help, the surprise birthday party, the unexpected hug.

Yet a friend is also just another person. With their own shortcomings, insecurities and complexities. Someone you learn to understand over time. Sometimes there are disagreements. Sometimes little habits irritate before one gets used to them. And sometimes it just doesn't work the way it should.

Any friendship could go through a rough patch. Where both know its just a phase and if we just hold on, understand the other person for a little bit longer or just keep ones cool this phase will pass and all will be well again.

But then sometimes, very rarely, there comes that one instant when everything goes overboard and there is only so much you can take. When the leg pulling becomes hurtful and the understanding vanishes. When the other person is on the opposite team and it goes beyond getting back at each other for offences possibly imagined. In a flash all that you felt for that once beautiful friendship is now a distant nonchalance. An apathy that surprises you and leaves you feeling cold. All that comes to mind at that moment is to get away. No conflict or debate can set things right again. At that time you just dont care. When a relationship goes beyond dislike or hate into complete indifference it also goes beyond the possibility of being saved.

I don't know if I'm the only one who's ever felt this way. Its against every sugar-coated idea of friendship that has been written or published ever. The fact that every friendship runs the risk of just dying if both freinds are not aware of when the other person reaches that threshold. That friendship needs to be worked at just like any other relationship. Its not just about sharing happy moments. Its about reading the other persons reactions even when you're not in the best place yourself. Its also realizing when to give up. To just stop and give the other person their space. To let them remember the good stuff. To stay away till the indifference fades away into fond remembrance. Till maybe that memory revives a long forgotten friendship.

2006-09-08T21:26:00.000-07:00

In the dead of the night...

There is a void deep within me
The womb for all storms of the world
Where darkness reigns in the dead of the night
Or is it the tomb of death growing cold?

Emptiness surrounds me
It comes from the hollowness within
Not a prayer reaches my ears
I live a life of sin.

I cry tears of blood
Agony sears through me
Tortured by my very existence
I drown in my misery.

I am the source of all darkness
I am the mother of all pain
I hold within me all sorrows
I beg for absolution in vain.

2006-09-04T10:55:00.000-07:00

Add a memory...

I got together with some friends last weekend and we went to Gatlinburg, TN, a small blink-and-you'll-miss-it town on the foothills of the Smoky Mountains. I hadn't met most of the group for almost 2 years so it was great just seeing them again.

We spent the weekend doing nothing in particular. Walked around town, had a good Saturday night drinking session, caught up with each other, the usual. And then we finally decided to "do something" on Sunday before going back, so we went on a trail. A "nature trail" which was nothing more than a 2 mile walk amongst the trees running parallel to the highway, but lets not go into that...

At the end of the trail was a waterfall - Cataract Waterfalls as the board proudly announced. I remember I even remarked why would anyone name a waterfall after a disease?! Maybe I should have just held my tongue. At the waterfall (it was quite insignificant, not more than 15-20 ft high) we decided to climb to the top. Anything in the name of adventure! And that was when I added an unforgettable moment to the trip - I was climbing the rocks on the side of the fall and I slipped. Face down my chest hit the rocks and I felt my bones slam inward and all my breath whooshed out! For a few seconds all I could think of was "Breathe Goddammit!"

Hey! Don't worry! It was just a few minutes .. I'm OK now! But it was scary! Anyways so I caught the flight back home and went to the doc who told me I was still in one piece, no fractures and just a lot of bruises and "contusions". My ribs and right hand would need some support and were not to be strained. The pain would eventually go away and there was nothing anyone could do about it!

So I was home for a week wrapped in bandages and surviving on pain killers and my life support system (i.e. my two roomies and 3 other friends). That week I added more memories than I could imagine. Not to mention the number of things I learnt about myself :-)

I learnt its weird brushing my teeth with my left hand. That I cannot open the door to my aptt. with just 1 hand. And that it is impossible for me to get into my jeans with just 1 hand!! But I can wash my hair with just 1 hand though it takes a lot more shampoo...
I cannot stop typing no matter how much it hurts! I'm addicted to my laptop! Also no matter how much pain I'm in I can always go shopping!! :D

I realised my friends hurt as much as I do when I'm hurting. And that time its easy to depend on them just a little more than you need to. It's easy to just let them do everything and not pitch in to do even what little you can but you feel guilty as hell later on. And after a week of whining and hurting when u decide it been too long and you just let go .. the pain goes away. Not immediately and not completely but you can ignore it and move on.

And of course I don't know for sure yet but I could possibly be losing my job since I couldn't meet a deadline...

I went for the weekend to relive old memories. I came back with a whole lot more and then some that I gathered days after the trip. I guess you never know when in the monotony of your life ... you just add a memory!

2006-08-20T04:54:00.000-07:00

The Truth about Me ..

I used to know me a long time ago,
Was I happier then? I still don't know...
I hold on to something so long gone
in fear of what I may have become...

Who is this stranger to me unknown?
Disconnected from me, my insides numb
going through the motions with each rising sun
lose myself once more when each day is gone...

I live my own reality
unaware of the multitudes around me
so far away... to far to reach
shackeld by pain, shrouded in misery,

Who am I? What am I to be?

Simple words... questions deep...
keep me up each night, never let me sleep,
keep me tied to my past, they don't let me grieve
A long time ago I used to know me.

2006-08-10T00:13:00.000-07:00

Life's an open book ...???

It wasn't until I started myself that I realized how popular blogging really is among my friends. What is it that makes us write a public epistle under a cloak of anonymity? I'm still trying to figure out why I blog. Every time I think about it, it feels like a chore on my never ending To-Do List. I can never figure out what I should or shouldn't publish. I know I write because there are innumerable emotions I need to express... and to no living soul in particular. That stuff I definitely don't want to publish. Then what remains?

To pen down thoughts and opinions on any and everything and put it out there feels presumptuous and even a tad arrogant. Why would anyone care what I think? One of my friends (and fellow blogger) said "you don't blog because you want someone to read it, you blog because you like to". Really? If it was all about just writing why bother publishing it? I've been writing ever since I can remember but the minute I think of putting a line out in the open I can't think of a single straight sentence. Besides the point that this is my fourth post in as many weeks.

Maybe its one of those things everyone knows but you're not supposed to say. Maybe this is just a way of telling the world that I exist and I go through the trials and tribulations of life just like everyone else. And maybe, deep down, it is a way of seeking approval from anyone who cares to offer an opinion. Of telling the world what I think... And see if anyone cares to listen. Of leaving a mark,however insignificant, which says "I was here too".

Its like that dialogue from the movie Crash (2006) -
"... I think we miss that touch so much that we crash into each other just so we can feel something."

Is blogging our way of reassuring ourselves that we still feel?

Or maybe its a fad and I'm its latest victim...

2006-07-31T18:39:00.000-07:00

Ah! How I wait for the days when I will have no exams!

It's a well known fact that every student catches up on tasks that they have been procrastination about forever as soon as the ugly exam monster rears its head. And I'm no exception! Recent history seems to indicate I have a passion for blogging only when I'm drunk or when I should be studying :D

Ok. Ok. Another well-known saying is "its easier said than done". So think about that before you proceed to lecture me. And I'll leave you with that thought and find some other inconsequential "important" task.

Of course .. How blasphemous of me to indicate my blogging is even the slightest bit inconsequential. Have I no heart for the hundreds who follow my every published word with undying loyalty... ??!!

Right!
Back to the real world now...

2006-07-22T03:41:00.000-07:00

Intoxicated @ 3:30 am

One act to end it all
One moment, however small
One memory, one last call
One last sigh, one last fall.

I wait for you.

2006-07-21T02:09:00.000-07:00

An Amateur Beginning

While brooding over the days gone by I realised something today. I think we hold on to our past more than our future because it is something real. Something we know how we feel about. Something tangible in some sense. But maybe we should realise that if the past was that true it would not have ended. Its gone and we should let it go.

So I decided to try and look forward. Maybe start dreaming a little more. Like I used to when I was a kid and didnt have too much of a past to hold on to. When everything was about an infinite future. I decided I'm going to write about my dreams and aspirations. And how my today influences my tomorrow.

Sometimes there will be moments of weakness when I slip back into my past. If anyone follows these posts, forgive me for those moments.

I named this post Half Sweet n Half Nuts because this is the best way I could think of describing myself. I wonder how many will agree ...