2009

Dad.
China, HK, Macau.
New job. Responsibility.
New Delhi. New life.
Love. LOVE.
Calcutta. Leh. Wanderlust.
Mom.
25.
Champagne. Schnapps.
K.
Rapture.

Faith

Why, yes. I do have a million dreams for the year to come.

All you people with very limited experience and narrow understanding of reality, who think certain things are unlikely and say "it's impossible" with a double emphasis on the s, please jump out of the window. Spare me.

Silence/Turbulence

I should write more.

I feel like I've just been talking too much. Words. Superfluous. Too much. All over the place. I'm watching Vishwanathan Anand congratulating Dhoni and team for becoming World No. 1 in Test Cricket. I'm going to start watching Cricket again.

I'm going to start doing meaningful things again. Not having mindless arguments to infuse some drama into my life. Space and time are such alien concepts to me in a relationship. I think it will do me good. I think it's his influence that I've started to really reflect on life. Sometimes I over-intellectualize even the mundane but I think it's better than just living each day, just existing. Without any meaning. Allowing other people to dictate terms.

I should be more disciplined about money.

I've started to really like my job. I hope the trend continues. I might just be over-exaggerating the impact, value etc. just to make myself survive the long hours. But the work's good. The team's good. Yesterday I saw those Tiger Woods hoardings and felt like I belonged. I feel like I'm doing the right things. Hard work pays. If only I can understand how to navigate the politics. I don't understand the undercurrents well enough yet.

:) I like the Max New York life insurance plan ad. A lot. The girl on the train. The guy. His parents. Talking about his dirty underwear. God, I hate men who can't manage their parents. I think Indian mothers get too sentimental about their sons. Thank god for sensible parents!

I want to go to London. I want to watch Wimbledon. But Chicago is happening the exact same week in 2010. So, it has to be postponed another year.

God! I miss Hyderabad. I'm watching this show called Great Aunty Cook off on NDTV. It's a legit show! Renuka Chowdhury also came. Just watching them make awesome Andhra food, pulusu that too! And I'm living on fruits and tea today. To cleanse my system.
God! I miss Hyderabad. Just the peace. Now there seems to be so much noise in my life. Even my quieter moments are filled with cacophony!

Another long, (interesting), work week to look forward to.

Oh well.

Blah!

I have been silent for too long. The least attractive man, like oh-please-get-away-now kinds, is the one who can't stop tooting their own horn long enough to notice someone other than themselves. You know the one. Every other sentence out of their mouth tells you how much they have accomplished and why they are so fabulous. "I'm hot, successful, and gifted. I’m working so hard, I got a degree from Wharton, I have this great car.” Bah! If you spend some of that time doing something to help the community, I would be a lot more impressed. What a turn-off! It’s one thing if I ask. Of course I want you to be forthcoming and engaging. But if we're talking like two normal people in a lounge bar and all of a sudden you want to give me your curriculum vitae like I'm a horse breeder or might offer you a job.. I wish you wouldn't. I do not need all that unsolicited information.

Come on, everybody likes to talk about themselves. It’s an ego-boost to hear yourself talk. That's why so many people blog. Vanity. They want to hear themselves, and have other people tell them how brilliant and entertaining they are. That's cool. But just maybe I would like the opportunity to ask you what you do rather than have you just offer it up! Give me a chance to get to know you a little slowly. Try talking about something other than yourself for like 10 minutes. Try. You might learn something. Amazing, I know.

Another thing I hate is when people ask me what I like to do. Where am I supposed to start with that one? I mean really. Read, write, google random stuff (Can you buy a kite in Antarctica? Haven’t you wondered? The wind would be awesome!), shop and shop some more, read magazines, talk, gossip, watch movies, eat, sleep, take pictures, travel, more than ever Bhumi. I mean I'm sure I could go on forever. A summary won’t do. So either take the time to get to know me or realize that this is just me at my nicest, when I’m not bitching or have my hair unwashed and frizzy. You don't necessarily need my life story to dance with me.

That being said, where can I find someone hot, successful and gifted in Delhi?

So anyway, go ahead and stroke my ego. Tell me how brilliant I am.

God, it’s November. Holidays and God-awful ugly sweaters. And you know what I mean. Those sweaters that you see and cringe and wonder if their blind grandmother gave it to them. The one even God thinks is awful. And She made the person that made it. Come on! But then this isn’t half as bad as Hyd. Oh yeah, did I neglect to mention that Hyderabad is the bad fashion capital of the world? I think I forgot to mention that. Yes, Hyderabad has more fashion faux pas per capita than any other city in the world. It’s true. At least I'm convinced that it’s true. There's NIFT and Lakhotia or something where people can take classes to learn fashion. It’s not working. I even had a dream about them. I am in Connaught Place for no more than 12 minutes and I see them EVERYWHERE! Like one of those horror movies where you can't believe your eyes and whatever you're scared of is suddenly all around you. Or you're in a field with all that elephant grass and you can't see anyone. You don't know what to do. You scream. Aaaaahh!! You know the sweaters I'm talking about. Those sweaters with no less than 4 colours. Usually with horizontal prints. Or with those circles and three dimensional swirls. I don't want your sweater to reach out and touch me. Or stab me in the eye. That is NOT cool. It hurts. A lot. I don't like things in my eye. The monstrosities that they call "fashion sweaters" at those horrid stores where you buy them! The stores that should be called "Hi, I'm a mom and I just don't care anymore."
http://www.uglysweaterstore.com/ Please click on that link. Roll over the title and click on the link. Please. This is exactly what I'm talking about. I can't. This is an actual current option to purchase. Granted, it’s called ugly sweater store. But still.

For real, you're driving me crazy looking like you just rolled out of bed five minutes ago and didn't even brush your teeth. Please stop.

(And RP, thanks for reading, if you did. :) And ignore the mood.)

A many-splendoured thing

Today, I am more lost than I was at 18. I have such an over-articulated life. Every emotion has an outpouring of observation and intricate analysis. Why? How? Questions that destroy peace. I just want to be.

What perturbs me most is how I associate with other human beings. Even my most intimate relationships seem to be an amalgamation of what I am and how I want to be. A little inauthentic.

Over the past eight years, one person has been a constant. Whose love for me seems unrestricted, almost impractical. And I reject it, more often than I accept it. I seem to thrive on being defiant and provoking angst in him. It's almost subconscious. But I yearn for his immutable presence in my life and now more than ever, I am obliged to him. For allowing me my small liberties and loving me, just the same.

Perhaps it's time I tell him how I really feel.

Act a fool

My next post will be my 200th published one apparently, not counting all those drafts which just lie in some database, a little apologetic for being so incomplete.

I think I should make the next one memorable. Something defining. I'm not that inspired at the moment.

Anyway, I want a couple of rasogollas from Cal, some really sumptuous Italian food, a relaxing manicure. I need to buy gifts for the parents, the sister and the grandmothers to commemorate my first salary.

Work's good, I don't have as much responsibility as I would like. But I've been kind of lax, making very basic errors. I need to get my act together. Can't go to work all lethargic!

I like the flourishing friendships, the brutally honest conversations and all the new people in my life. I also like how I seem to be losing weight without making a huge effort.

I want to watch Inglorious and Wake up. Both have very good reviews. I want to finish Past Continuous and start reading a new book every week. I also want to download some new music. Or just spend hours listening to the old songs.

God, I'm falling into one of those insignificant cycles of living the mundane life. Good job, good house, good food. Bah.

Yeh shehar nahi mehfil hain!

I might have gone slightly over my monthly budget but I just got an absolutely fabulous house in Panchsheel, gym membership at Fitness First and access to a very hot dark blue Skoda. I am living THE life. But I won't be able to drink/party/eat Mediterranean food as much. Happy compromise, I think. :)

Now, let me do the math. I hope I can save/invest a little bit.

Giving in

The new job is interesting. The people are great! Intelligent, funny and I think I'll enjoy working with them.

And I'm falling again. I hang on to every word like they're his last. I hate that I can't discuss it with anyone. Damn. I shouldn't be so distracted.

Biblio

Read:
An Atlas of Impossible Longing - Because some of the lines can potentially transform you.

Past Continuous - Because it's disturbing to find that you've had some of those savage thoughts too.

Looking ahead

I brought the beautiful weather with me to Delhi! It's brilliant, all my anxiety and inhibitions, with Panic Attack playing in my head, were quite unnecessary. I went to Aura at Claridges, a welcome back to Delhi for good thing. Had the most delicious tofu and sprouts spring rolls and the mandatory Mojito(s). It was fun! Woohoo! Life is waiting!

"Poised between the illusion of immortality and the fact of death"

Air travel has become such an ordinary occurrence in our lives, yet many of us feel an eerie uneasiness when we fly. We browse the mundane in-flight magazines while a 35,000 foot chasm of emptiness lurks just beneath our shoes. The flight attendants point out towards emergency exits that really go nowhere. We snack on mini pastries while just a few inches away, airstreams that are minus 50 degrees rush by.

And beyond all that is the vast nothingness, peppered with illusion, habit and little idiosyncratic rituals until something interrupts our day dreams. We hear the pilot's strained voice, garbled message and wonder for just one moment, will I break apart in freakish panic? In life too, we live inches from oblivion. We stand on a foundation of imagined or preset belief systems. Our only real security is to embrace insecurity.

So the next time you fly, board the aircraft as though entering a sacred battlefield, smile at that pretty airhostess, acknowledge the instructions on wearing your seatbelt correctly, place your tray table in its upright position, and gaze straight past the mini pastries and the random conversations into the unforgiving depths of the absolute.

To choose one is to forsake the promise of all others.

So a combination of things. I read the 2004 posts on Sun's blog, someone was on that same introspective trip - what am I doing with life and such - the one that I go on so often, a friend's wedding plans did not work out and the gloomy weather. Somehow the perceived clarity I have on what I want to do with life seems more like resignation than control. Like I've started believing I made this choice rather than having it thrust on me, which really it has been. This firm, this job, this city. Just a coincidence. Right place, right time, a little bit of luck and lot of preparation. Definitely not choice. If I had it my way, I'd be travelling to exotic places, writing, singing, doing more development work. I wish I had more financial independence.

Anyway, somehow the expectations of women is so much lower in our society. It's extremely insulting. I can understand if there is a difference in those fields that require brute strength but in professional life, it's bizarre! And women tend to reinforce that. In their families, their children. I just wish I could shake them up and tell them, we've come such a long way and we have so much more to do.

Women and human rights. These issues are something I want to be involved in when I move to Delhi. And tiger conservation. I hope I don't make new excuses to myself to rationalize my laziness.

I really don't want to become another irrelevant life.

September 01, 2009

So, on the birthday, I contemplated getting another tattoo. But I really didn't, couldn't, decide on the design. I was looking for a word that would sort of define what I wanted my next 25 to be. And then find the Chinese word for it. But then Chinese translations are so loose. The Department of Public Relations is still called the Department of Propaganda and that is the most respectable of their gaffes. So you can imagine why I didn't. The word I came up with, though, is passion. This is the very essence of humanity, I guess. The Greeks got it right too. They asked just one question upon the funeral of a companion. "Did he(/she) live with passion?" All the South east Asian symbols for passion (Japanese, Thai especially) actually look tattoo worthy. Oh well, maybe I'll get it on New Year's eve.

On the birthday eve, I suddenly had this debilitating attack of, what can only be called, temporary neurosis. I felt like I was losing grip of time, I shouted and cried and was in an erratic mood for most of the morning. (But my friends who bore the brunt of this, say they actually expected it to be much more pronounced!) Anyway, we went to the Park for lunch to get my mind off it and figure out how I wanted to celebrate. (Damn, why do I give birthdays such extraordinary significance? Stupid vanity!) S suggested I should just check in and pamper myself. And I did! I went to the Sky spa for 4 hours and it was pure indulgence, even experienced the chocolate body wrap. Then dressed up and had the buffet dinner till we were stuffed! Came back to my room to find a lovely Dom Pérignon and decadent chocolate cake which simply said, 'Happy Birthday, Div C'. Ah, what a luxurious birthday. Got the expected calls and messages and a few pleasant surprises too (Thank you Facebook?!?). I did not set myself up for disappointment like I did in 2005, when I kept praying all day that John Abraham would accidentally dial my number on my birthday. Yeah okay, I know I was all of 21 then!
Decided to have dinner with mom, so took the evening flight back to Hyderabad. Damn, I'm such a homebody.


Was about to take a Meru cab back home when I met someone who stayed at Valley a couple of years back. Got a ride home in a Merc S class. We discussed the ISB Board Meeting that he'd just attended, the infrastructure and real estate industry and my favourite topic, carbon credits. It was quite an engaging, 1 and a half hour conversation. Talk about birthday bounty! Mom was surprised, even though Dad sent her a "Your horoscope says you will get a surprise visitor tonight" message. He's adorable! Cut another awesome chocolate cake and a blueberry cake. Thanks D and dad!

Hated: Those kids who've just begun to talk and have the fabulous vocabulary of exactly 20 words or phrases and repeat them every 2 seconds to the cooing appreciation of their mothers. Hate it even more if this happens on the same flight where I'm trying to get rid of my hangover by getting some shut eye. And absolutely hate it when the mother relates every single incident from the exact moment of birth to the first step to the first word in a voice matching the frequency of the baby's, to some hapless stranger seated next to them!

Loved: Reading Outlook's 100th edition with 100 best travel destinations in India and marking of most places as those I've already been to and amazed that some of the best were not even included. Also enjoyed talking to an oldish couple who were coming back after meeting their daughter in the IRS. When I told them that I would stay in Delhi, they rattled off a list of the best coaching centers for the UPSC examination and told me that I had to take it next year. Atleast try, they said.

New year, new resolutions

In the spirit of commemorating my 25th, I have decided to write everyday. From the mundane to the spectacular, even if it's just a line or a twitter-esque update, I will write everyday. And will add a picture when I can :)
(Yes, it was a momentous occassion for me and hence worth the celebration. So there.)

The insignificant pseudoprime

The last 25 were mostly happy.

The childhood was a blur of balloons, 'lingo cha' and road trips with the family.
The teenage years had an appropriate amount of angst and an inappropriate amount of bad language, bad music and bad hair cuts.
The years after that, the ones I remember most, have been days filled with a profound sense of fear at my complete lack of understanding of anything mortal, and a terrifying realization that there may be nothing, no one who is Immortal. Love came and went, leaving moments of temporary joy and artifical emotion. Music filled the silence and books filled the solitude. I had brief fits of raging cynicism and enduring faith in the greater good of humanity. I was immensely self-centred in the name of self-realization and the philosophical search of the 'I'. I am still sometimes socially inept. I made friends, lost friends and reconnected with friends. I resisted technology till I couldn't. I resisted change till I realized I shouldn't. I followed fashion and denounced fashionistas. I admired anonymous strangers who wrote their deepest feelings in words that truly moved me. I secretly wanted to marry Captain Planet. I did not believe in the institution of marriage and the sometimes strange rituals that my religion professes. I travelled to the most exotic and the most mundane places on Earth. I ate cuisines of different countries and still preferred curd rice and mango pickle, in winter, in a country full of people who do not speak my tongue. I could say Hello and 'I dont know' in 38 different languages and counting. I was ashamed of my parent's wealth, proud of it, disowned it, lived with it and was grateful for it. I was envious, petty and had a foolish craving for appreciation. I made a difference in someone's life, and she changed my life forever. I started a movement, shunned it. I gave up on people and realized too late that I shouldn't have. I've felt ecstatic and indifferent about the same thing at different times, different moods.

I was good, most of the time. I was better when I tried.

(To be completed..)

Escape.

Lightning strikes ever so often
To break the tranquility,
And the pieces of my selective life.
Interwoven with magic and love
With more missing ingredients and pain.
Love was never subtle,
It burst into the room with confidence
Like fireworks in the black sky,
Only leaving a hanging smoke
In its noisy aftermath.
I blink and it transforms
Into a wondrous valley,
Filled with flowers and thorns.
And then the illusion vanishes
Effervescent like the feeling
That inspired it,
I am engulfed by the
Deafening silence, once again.