A nice weekend with a visit from a literary snob who talks more than me and brought along pretty glass bangles and two books on loan - lots and lots of talking all over town...browsing through Manney's on Moledina Road and itching to buy my nephew so many books - I stayed away from the Literature section lest more temptation struck! Plenty to accomplish on Sunday, my only free day in the week - it flew past way too quick! A busy week, observing more hours a day, getting more and more ideas about how to conduct class, waiting and hoping to be given a regular class in the next session....The fact that I've been busy has kept me away from the computer and the internet - well that, and the fact that a wierd apathy has crept into my bones as far as this one activity is concerned. I type emails and posts on Papa's laptop and never get around to emailing them. Logging in seems like a mammoth effort at the end of the day when all I want to do is hit the sack, before my sleep vanishes and I spend another sleepless night walking through the rooms staring at photgraphs, trying to keep memories at bay lest they bring along with them tears.
Went for Lal Ded, performed by Mita Vasisht at the Shantaram Pond, FTII with everyone including little Shaurya. The setting was sublime - one can't possibly go wrong with the impact with a backdrop as that of Shantaram pond. It's an absolute delight to the senses. The performance left me wanting - il y avait une manque quelque part. I went expecting to hear Lal Ded's poems or maybe about her philosophy - what I got was a presentation of her life as the mystic saint who has most influenced the people of Kashmir. I have the French translation of her verses. I think I'll dig it out of the carton of books and pore over them in detail now - one verse from the performance stuck in my mind:
"Dhyan se, yeh tan to hai sirf bhojan kaowon ke liye"
(Careful, this body is but food for the crows.)
Touched by the gestures of some friends, exasperated at others who I don't know whether to ignore or shake in frustration, itching to step into yet another friend's life and set everything right - my life seems to revolve around my friends. What would I do without them?
Many many thanks to all of you - I don't know how to lean on anybody and I reach out to very few in times of distress, but your presence whether by way of comments on my blog, emails, SMS, phone calls, snail mail or physically visiting me...all meant to so much to me. Merci beaucoup mes ami(e)s! :-)
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Blah...blech
Strange how death can resolve old issues - strange how suddenly people wake up to their mistakes and want to make up after over a decade of being insulting and hurting us. Wish I could turn back the clock, I'd rather have my father back than patch up with these people...but then I must be sensible and wise and not go around burning bridges. Civil, understanding, mature. Fighting the system - why do they have to build obstacles and be so bloody insensitive and corrupt at such times? The emptiness is still there. It disturbs me at night, robs me of my sleep, makes me restless, pierces my heart suddenly and makes me wanna cry. Sometimes I do that...I cry and let it out...ask God why he had to play such cruel games with us. Slowly involving myself in the activies I'm accustomed to - inch by inch per day. Unpacking boxes packed for a move never meant to be, reading, borrowing books from friends, watching movies (Breakfast at Tiffany's borrow from a friend), writing, class...
Friends from whom I had such few expectations have come through - my guardian angels are ofcourse always there to hold me up when I didn't have the energy nor the will to do that by myself. Strange, how a person who meant the world to me till a month back is nowhere on the radar at such a time, and stranger yet, that it has ceased to matter, that after years of being hurt, this final betrayal doesn't matter at all. Well that's the only good thing that has come out of this...
La vie - c'est vraiment bizarre! C'est difficile, très difficile, mais on survivra!
Friends from whom I had such few expectations have come through - my guardian angels are ofcourse always there to hold me up when I didn't have the energy nor the will to do that by myself. Strange, how a person who meant the world to me till a month back is nowhere on the radar at such a time, and stranger yet, that it has ceased to matter, that after years of being hurt, this final betrayal doesn't matter at all. Well that's the only good thing that has come out of this...
La vie - c'est vraiment bizarre! C'est difficile, très difficile, mais on survivra!
Sunday, March 19, 2006
C'est La Vie?
Slowly limping back to routine, but every now and then I lose track of what's happening, lose control over my emotions - flare up or break down. I must do both without being observed, which makes it so much harder.
Two weeks since Papa's been gone - today like Schnapps, I too, was waiting for the bell to ring. My professor said the pain never goes away, you just learn to deal with it. Damn it but why must it hurt so?
Spent the day buried in work - assessed papers, wrote out preliminary assessment reports, filled in deacth claims for insumrance policies, write out intimation letters, replied to condolence messages. Am drained. Tomorrow's a new week...why am I not looking forward to it?
Two weeks since Papa's been gone - today like Schnapps, I too, was waiting for the bell to ring. My professor said the pain never goes away, you just learn to deal with it. Damn it but why must it hurt so?
Spent the day buried in work - assessed papers, wrote out preliminary assessment reports, filled in deacth claims for insumrance policies, write out intimation letters, replied to condolence messages. Am drained. Tomorrow's a new week...why am I not looking forward to it?
Thursday, March 16, 2006
For Papa...
Oft in the recent past have I ranted and raved about my apparent misfortune, questioned what life had in store for me, lamented on how difficult life can be and even wondered if there really is a higher power up there that enjoys pulling our strings and turning our lives into a roller-coaster with one flick of his/her wrist. Never have I meant it as much as I do now...for with that one flick of a wrist, within an instant, my life as I knew it ceased to be.
4th March 2006, we'd returned home after a leisurely dinner at my Chacha's place, when we received that fatal call that changed everything. My father, away on a holiday with my mother in Kumarakum, Kerala, had suffered a heart attack....minutes later a second call confirmed our worst fears. In the days that have since passed, I've struggled to make myself believe that he won't be ringing the bell and come sauntering in with his laptop delighted with his latest accomplishment at Phoenix Mecano India. For as long as I can remember, my father's name has been synonymous with his work, his dedication to it, his honesty, uprightness and truthfulness - whether it was at M.D.S (today a part of LeGrand), or when he was a management consultant or in the last decade at P.M.I. He worked for the pleasure of working, never for the money...to the point that he's put in many hours, days, months of effort into building up people's companies and ended up not getting any remuneration at all. But that's Papa...and he totally kicks ass!
Yes he does. I wanted to say this during the Shanti Path when the priest asked if anyone wanted to say anything about him, but I was too choked at that the time. I want to rail against whoever is sitting up there, pulling our strings, for this was the wrong string pulled. It's unfair. Papa had planned so much, he had so much more to achieve. People talk of him as someone they can never forget, a man of exemplary vision, an able man of few words who believed more in decisive action to solve the problem instead of talking about it. All his dreams, his visions were so close to realisation. He had so much more to do, so much more to teach me, teach his grandson, teach all of us.
That it happened on his first vacation in donkey's years, that it happened when my parents were so far away from any family/friend, far even from medical assistance makes me go blind with rage at the injustice of it all. I still can't believe it, even though I was with him till the last minute at the crematorium. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night disoriented, my mind filled with a jumble of images. Papa smiling, frowning in concentration as he typed away on his laptop, glaring angrily at me when I refused to back down from an argument which was threatening to explode in my face, stroking my head before I went to sleep while I continued to browse blogs/chat/email, tired at the end of a long day at work, cold in the coffin...
It all seems so unreal...I wonder how things continue as if nothing has changed, I want to go stop everything, but life continues. And so must I, for my mother and for my father if not for anything else. I can't disappoint them - I have to fulfill my dreams and fulfill Papa's dreams for me. He always egged me to do more; it was me who was lazy, content with what I already had...I have to make him proud enough to sit up there and nod his head as he says that his daughter kicks ass....and my father would say that. Yes he would, because he did too!
Below is my favourite photograph of my parents together - taken several years ago when we were still in Bombay. It's how I'll always remember Papa - smiling, happy, proud of his family and confident in his accomplishments.
4th March 2006, we'd returned home after a leisurely dinner at my Chacha's place, when we received that fatal call that changed everything. My father, away on a holiday with my mother in Kumarakum, Kerala, had suffered a heart attack....minutes later a second call confirmed our worst fears. In the days that have since passed, I've struggled to make myself believe that he won't be ringing the bell and come sauntering in with his laptop delighted with his latest accomplishment at Phoenix Mecano India. For as long as I can remember, my father's name has been synonymous with his work, his dedication to it, his honesty, uprightness and truthfulness - whether it was at M.D.S (today a part of LeGrand), or when he was a management consultant or in the last decade at P.M.I. He worked for the pleasure of working, never for the money...to the point that he's put in many hours, days, months of effort into building up people's companies and ended up not getting any remuneration at all. But that's Papa...and he totally kicks ass!
Yes he does. I wanted to say this during the Shanti Path when the priest asked if anyone wanted to say anything about him, but I was too choked at that the time. I want to rail against whoever is sitting up there, pulling our strings, for this was the wrong string pulled. It's unfair. Papa had planned so much, he had so much more to achieve. People talk of him as someone they can never forget, a man of exemplary vision, an able man of few words who believed more in decisive action to solve the problem instead of talking about it. All his dreams, his visions were so close to realisation. He had so much more to do, so much more to teach me, teach his grandson, teach all of us.
That it happened on his first vacation in donkey's years, that it happened when my parents were so far away from any family/friend, far even from medical assistance makes me go blind with rage at the injustice of it all. I still can't believe it, even though I was with him till the last minute at the crematorium. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night disoriented, my mind filled with a jumble of images. Papa smiling, frowning in concentration as he typed away on his laptop, glaring angrily at me when I refused to back down from an argument which was threatening to explode in my face, stroking my head before I went to sleep while I continued to browse blogs/chat/email, tired at the end of a long day at work, cold in the coffin...
It all seems so unreal...I wonder how things continue as if nothing has changed, I want to go stop everything, but life continues. And so must I, for my mother and for my father if not for anything else. I can't disappoint them - I have to fulfill my dreams and fulfill Papa's dreams for me. He always egged me to do more; it was me who was lazy, content with what I already had...I have to make him proud enough to sit up there and nod his head as he says that his daughter kicks ass....and my father would say that. Yes he would, because he did too!
Below is my favourite photograph of my parents together - taken several years ago when we were still in Bombay. It's how I'll always remember Papa - smiling, happy, proud of his family and confident in his accomplishments.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
You Know It's Summer When...
- You start seeing piles of dark-green water melons piled up by the side of the road, the vendor displaying one cut-up to reveal the juicy red fruit within.
- You want to take a refreshing cold shower after a dusty morning packing up stuff, but the water that bursts out of the tap is anything but cold!
- The tempers start soaring with the temperatures and your own temper is perpetually flaring beyond control :-(
- The coolers start getting cleaned up and serviced for the coming season and you start wishing you could put on the air-conditioner, knowing very well that those damn machines are one of the reasons why we are experiencing an increase of 2.5-5 degress celcius in summers!
- All your clothes with high-necks and full-sleeves get buried under other clothes in your cupboard and those delightfully light, summery cottons with barely any sleeves get pulled out to the top.
- You can smell the frustration in the air; there is a restlessness in your spirit that makes you want to run-away, but yet lethargy seeps into your bones and apathy greets you at every step you take...
- At every quartier, you're greeted with a stall of nimbu-pani and gola, or better yet, ganne ka ras.
- You're dying to wear the sleeveless top you picked up from Weekender, but two things stop you - the damn sun burns your arms if you do and the damn top is too damn transparent for PMT buses! Grrrr!
- You stop seaking the sun for it's glorious warmth and start seaking the shade, hiding from the burning heat of the sun!
- You reach for the bottle of chilled Coke or Apple Juice in your refrigerator, instead of brewing yourself a cup of refreshing lemon tea, even though you know your tonsils are painfully enlarged and need the former rather than the latter!
- The tiles on your bedroom floor feel wonderfully good against your bare-skin and you wonder why you must get into your pyjamas at all!
- You start drinking water by the gallons, which is a real shock to your mother 'coz she has to often remind you to drink your first glass of water at the end of the day!
Yes people, like it or not, the verdict came in this afternoon loud and clear... We've just entered March and Summer's already here (or as we now know, in Pune atleast) - and here to stay for a good long time!
- You want to take a refreshing cold shower after a dusty morning packing up stuff, but the water that bursts out of the tap is anything but cold!
- The tempers start soaring with the temperatures and your own temper is perpetually flaring beyond control :-(
- The coolers start getting cleaned up and serviced for the coming season and you start wishing you could put on the air-conditioner, knowing very well that those damn machines are one of the reasons why we are experiencing an increase of 2.5-5 degress celcius in summers!
- All your clothes with high-necks and full-sleeves get buried under other clothes in your cupboard and those delightfully light, summery cottons with barely any sleeves get pulled out to the top.
- You can smell the frustration in the air; there is a restlessness in your spirit that makes you want to run-away, but yet lethargy seeps into your bones and apathy greets you at every step you take...
- At every quartier, you're greeted with a stall of nimbu-pani and gola, or better yet, ganne ka ras.
- You're dying to wear the sleeveless top you picked up from Weekender, but two things stop you - the damn sun burns your arms if you do and the damn top is too damn transparent for PMT buses! Grrrr!
- You stop seaking the sun for it's glorious warmth and start seaking the shade, hiding from the burning heat of the sun!
- You reach for the bottle of chilled Coke or Apple Juice in your refrigerator, instead of brewing yourself a cup of refreshing lemon tea, even though you know your tonsils are painfully enlarged and need the former rather than the latter!
- The tiles on your bedroom floor feel wonderfully good against your bare-skin and you wonder why you must get into your pyjamas at all!
- You start drinking water by the gallons, which is a real shock to your mother 'coz she has to often remind you to drink your first glass of water at the end of the day!
Yes people, like it or not, the verdict came in this afternoon loud and clear... We've just entered March and Summer's already here (or as we now know, in Pune atleast) - and here to stay for a good long time!
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