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Not very long ago I swore off retail therapy of any kind, so that means no shopping for clothes, books and music, even though the last two evolve into another source of therapy - I'm sticking to that, irrespective of the fact that I bought a new patch-work leather bag to replace my rather well-worn and over-used Kashmiri leather sling pouch that I carried around everywhere from class (as a student and now as a teacher), to casual rendezvous to more formal occassions. That was more necessity than therapy so, I'm not taking into account its therapeutic values even though I'm uber pleased with my purchase!So this week I'm indulging in different forms of therapy - Number One being Sleep. It's not like I've been sleep-deprived (I have been getting an average of 6 hours per night, which isn't the preferred 8 hours but it's sufficient to keep me from turning into a zombie after a few days). Sleep is important - I've never been able to stay up late studying/working. Back in school and college days my mind would shut down at 8 p.m and I couldn't study any more after that. That did change during M.A when I was juggling it with French and was basically out of the house from 9 a.m to 9 p.m. My brief encounter with insomnia came at a time when my inner reserves where at an all-time low - those who knew me back then, generally describe me as walking around in a dream-like state with this touch-me-not aura to myself! Anyways getting back to the topic, insomnia is one thing I don't have to worry about in Pune, for I usually fall asleep within a few minutes of shutting my eyes. Pune, if for nothing else, is definitely good for curing insomnia ;-) The last couple of days I've pretty much competed as much as I can with Sleeping Beauty. Early to bed and late to rise, long afternoon siestas. Restful, dreamless sleep. Rejuvenating.Books have always provided the much-needed refuge and have been my closest companions ever since I was 2 years old and I learnt the ABC sitting on Papa's shoulders as he read the morning paper or peered over Bhaiyya's shoulder as he read an Archies comic. Despite being a student of English Literature I was never conscious of my choices, reading whatever came my way and pleased my mind and my senses. I'm even guilty of enjoying the much reviled Mills and Boons. I guess I won't be able to display any literary snobbery for some time, having admitted to this sin - but hey I aint reading those for their literary value. I completely aknowledge thier complete lack of literary value, but I also give them credit for providing me many an hour of mindless amusement when all I wanted as a book in my hand and not really have to use my brain. Same applies to the few other works I've read in the popular genre. The last few years has seen me conscious of what I'm reading as I grew increasingly appalled at how little I've read and how ignorant I am... I've been merrily reading several ridiculous romances simultaneously with a collection of Eugene Ionesco's plays and I have to admit I'm enjoying both of them equally! Music. I say it's my porn - and many people have come up with incredibly interesting interpretations to that statement. ;-)The last few days it's been a true companion as I've dug into my Collection of CDs and pulled out ignored albums for a heart-warming session, or simply tuned into World Space and grooved to the latest hits. Gwen Stephanie, Peter White, Kayne West, Chet Atkins, Paul McCartney, Fool's Garden, Creed, Prem Joshua, TLC, Beyonce, Ottmar Liebert, Sean Paul, Bon Jovi, Vanessa Mae, Tears for Fears, GNR.... it's an instant lightening of spirits as I begin to hum under my breath, swing my hips and tap my feet to the beats.
{Playing right now - Maria Joao featuring Cal Viva and Ermenio De Melo)Art. Well not exactly the hi-brow kind; just the stain-glass painting I indulge in once in a while. There's something immensely pleasurable about spreading newspaper and my painting gear all over the dining-table, tracing designs onto the glass and then swiftly filling in the outlines with that translucent paint. I had borrowed an Old Monk bottle from Titu Dada (he was using it as a make-shift vase for some rather ugly plastic flowers), saying I'll paint it and if it turns out good I'll gift it back to him. Magnanimous soul ain't I? Anyway for the longest time it just lay rather desolately below my writing-desk. This morning I finally picked it up and sat down to transform it into a glowing vision in warm orange and yellow. Perfect for the season. It's come out awfully nice, even if I say so myself. What say people? If you like what you see, and have a nice bottle lying around under the kitchen sink/bed or behind the curtains or even hidden below piles of lingerie in your cupboard, send it over. I'll be all to happy to transform the ugly duckling into a beautiful swan ;-)I've oft been compared to Monica Geller of F.R.I.E.N.D.S - reason being my fetish for organisation and cleanliness. So, for the past two days re-arranged all the stuff in my room...shifted the computer out of the room, moved furniture around, dusted the shelves, re-did my cupboards, not to mention my book shelves! Dusty work - am sneezing like a mad hatter today - but also satisfying.Gardening. My mother finds it very relaxing, so I thought I'd lend a hand. But after getting my finger-nails all dirty and my hands scratched by the thorns in the flowering plants, I decided this is one form of therapy I can do without ;-)SO - all said and done, I guess there are other forms of therapy that work much better than retail therapy - and they work just as well, if not better! :-)
Yes that's what I am feeling like these days...usually the gloomy days don't last this long, but this time they simply refuse to fade away into the hazy bank of forgetable memories. All the old feelings of self-reproach, doubt, confusion are back - and boy are they back with a vengeance. Problem with this mood is that I'm not exactly the happiest person around (now isn't that obvious my dear Geets?) and so I can't deal with happiness. I'd love to take that short-cut to temporary happiness by adopting the escapist method, but I figure it's about time I dealt with my demons and slayed them once and for all. (Don't you just see me leaping around in the air slashing my hands around à la Buffy?)Sarcasm apart, I'm not happy. Yes I seem to be searching for answers, but none of them deal with any of the great philosophical truths of human existence. What I'm questioning is what I've wanted for so long, my choices, for I can't afford to take the wrong decision at this point in my life. It does make me a difficult person to deal with - my friends can vouch for that. I'm uncompromising, I'm nasty and yes, I'm even prone to strike out where it hurts the most without realising what I'm doing. It's why I'm keeping my distance - I just hope that they understand, for only one of them actually reads this blog and knows how to read between the lines...and I thought it would be easier this time, since I've been through this before. Yeah right baby, you've sure have high expectations from everyone, including yourself! The last few weeks have been rougher than most - what with my plans to visit Bombay being thwarted thrice and me having to swallow my annoyance each time. End result is that I'm in a murderous rage and I want blood (that, incase you don't realise is a hyperbole. I'd actually be satisfied with a chance to vent several years of disappointment, anger and frustration verbally...maybe a slap or two would ease that anger faster, but I am a lady after all)! The arrival of my 18 year old nephew who is actually a nice, sweet, fun guy turned my routine upside down and left me even more irritable. The complete lack of time to myself, the forced entertainment sessions didn't exactly help.Now that Christmas vacations are here and I have aboslutely no obligations (social or professional) I'm working towards resolving some of the issues turning my mind into a frothing cauldron of emotions and I do so hope that I can begin the new year with a calmer, more peaceful and content frame of mind. Highly doubt it, but well for now hope is all I have...that and the promise of visiting Bombay and spending quality time with my friends sometime in January...
It's that time of the year again when people bring forth their best festive cheer and warmth, leave their worries behind and party like there's no tomorrow - for the coming tomorrow! Wierdly enough, Christmas and New Year's Eve has never held that much importance for me - sure the festivities usually manage to sweep me along and I usually allow myself to be swept up by the enthusiasm of my friends. But this year, I simply can't get myself to dredge up the least bit of enthusiasm for any of it - the farce of it all seems too tiresome to bother with.... I had planned to visit Bombay in between the Christmas and New Year's eve and meet my friends (old and new) - it's been two months since I visited and I've been missing my friends, not to mention the city. But it was not to be... :-( so no plans. None what so ever...Can't believe how estranged I've been feeling. And how let down by the people who meant the most to me...On a different note - Merry Christmas! May the festive season bring around loads of warmth, glee and cheer to your hearth! P.S Make sure you set aside some cookies and milk for Santa when you hang up those stockings! ;-)
Sometime back, Aristera and I decided that Chamique's blog is one of the more sensitive, honest and intelligent blogs around. No pretensions on this blog - just some great writing on issues that touch the writer. A recent post had me nodding my head vigorously in agreement - oft have I wondered over the same issue myself and been accused of ignoring the good the recnt change in our society and work culture has done to our economy. I can't say it better than she has, so I'll leave it at that. However her post does brings forth this outpouring of sorts from me -
In the past one and a half years, ever since I completed my Masters and moved to Pune, several people have questioned me about my future plans and made many suggestions regarding lucrative jobs. Some have even tried (rather unsuccessfully I may add - I am stubborn bitch after all!) to coerce me into taking up a more ambitious and paying path - to the point of badgering me endlessly about my apparent lack of amibition and how wierd it, since my father continues to work at the age of 65 and whose ambitions know no end. Most of them don't know that my father has never and still doesn't work so much for the renumeration as for the satisfaction of seeing the job completed to a perfection and knowing it was under him that it was accomplished. But that's a different story - we'll talk about that some other time.
Most people wonder why I want to 'settle' for a teaching job, in an era of BPOs where technical writers and language support (translators) earn so well. Why would I want a thankless, frustrating job that doesn't even make me millionaire at retiring age, forget at 30! Don't I atleast want to pursue a Ph.D and make my mark in the academic world? Write a book, churn millions in book deals? It's with great difficulty that I've explained to people that there are some people in the world who simply aren't cut out for the rat race, and can't run after the green paper like it's their very oxygen. I'm not saying that one can exist without money...I know I can't. I am accustomed to a certain standard and know life is very difficult without money (or even less money). Hell I say that retail therapy rocks - but there are other forms of therapy as well.
Why teaching? Because I never want to stop learning and I also want to share the knowledge I have. I do believe I have a certain aptitude for doing this. Why at Alliance Française? Because it gives you the space and freedom to use your imagination and creativity in planning lessons. Because it doesn't follow the rather restrictive, exam-oriented, rote-memorisation method of teaching, normally followed by schools and colleges. Because I have always been interested in European culture, specially French, having spent over 2 years studying the language...and because I hope it will give me the opportunity to go back soon. Not forever though, just a trip. :-)
Then there are those who think my job at Alliance Française guarantees this rather glamarous job with an excellent pay right at the start! (Who cares that I have no experience, am basically a stagiére/intern and am taking only one freaking class a week?) Let's not forget the French hunks (point them out to me please...could do with some eye-soothing exericises right now!) and the super glam and rocking parties where wine flows like water! (Umm, in Pune water flows rather sporadically from taps and the water that flows in the river, well I'd rather not acknowledge it at all!)
The job pays very less, but I didn't expect much more at this stage - and no the parties aren't all that glamorous. Fun yes, and rocking, but no glamour. And guess what? I'm not unhappy about it. I didn't want glamour - I wouldn't be in this profession if I wanted glamour. As for the pay - it will improve. Most of my colleagues are still studying - if I hadn't believed in taking one step at a time, I'd have been past this stage and taking the regular courses by now - and earning more. But then, there is such a thing as waiting to get your dues.
Sure sometimes I feel terrible about still being dependant on my folks when most of my friends are completely independant and thinking of investing in cars/property and making trips across the oceans. It's one of the reasons why I'm holding myself back from indulging in retail therapy and from travelling when I so want to do both. I've promised myself I'll splurge the day I get my first decently big salary - till then I'm reining in those expensive desires.
So current status - moving from merely observing and assisting to taking class by myself from January 2006. Two weeks back we had to prepare this board-game for the kids to learn the modes of transport. My associate asked me to simply photocopy the images and get them enlarged and then colour, cut and paste them. I got so enthusiastic about the affair I sat up half the night, drawing and painting the images! Sometimes I can't believe that ME - the one who always ran away from kids is doing all this! Yes I am having fun!
Still one class a week, so I'm going to set myself to follow some dreams left dangling for way too long. Content with the job scene as it is developing - more than willing to give it time to spout wings and take off :-) And yes, not the least bit rich...
- A phone call and a few clues later, my mind raced as I tried to put the clues together. "No way - it couldn't be! The world can't be THAT small" - just to be sure, I send an email the same night asking - I was right! So that's another blogger I've come across with whom I have some common links - hell I've actually met her, so what if she doesn't remember meeting me! Back then (and it was a long time ago) I didn't make much of an impression on people, generally fading into the woodwork. I think that has changed a wee bit not! I hope...- Pacing up and down a street waiting for Daddy dearest to arrive and ferry me home, a girl passes me. I normally wait elsewhere for Papa and rarely ever look at the people around me, so involved am I in my thoughts and berating myself for being early and him for being later. A second later, something clicks in my head and I backtrack to catch a glimpse of her face. "No it can't be" I tell myself and go back to pace. A minute later, I'm back staring at her back as she waits (apparently) by herself in a restaurant.. "Could it be???" Two minutes later I was crossing the street. A simple SMS had confirmed my suspicions. It was who I thought it was. I was right - when am I ever not right? ;-) LOL...so I went and surprised an old-classmate from University. She was in town for a project for her course in International Labour Relations. Never one of my closest friends at University (but then I had very few of those) but definitely someone whose company I enjoy and someone I can count on for a lively conversation.
Co-incidences or not - I like. Forced me out of my self-induced shell and gave me a reason to smile again. The world just continues to shrink, even as it seems to get more and more out of reach. Maybe there's reason to keep hoping...
(GAWD I'm turning into melodrama-queen aren't I?)
Currently -
Listening to Stickwitu by the Pussycat Dolls (I had my objections to their group name and to their first song, but hey it's fun and great to dance music! )
Reading Nothing! :-( Just being very lazy and sleepy - and nursing myself back to health after this misreable cold. The only thing I miss about it when it's not dogging me, is that husky voice that comes along with it. ;-)
*Recently heard somewhere - Hope makes good breakfast, but terrible supper.
It's an awful day today. There's a wierd chill in the air and it makes me feel terribly cold inside. Been roaming around in rather dark colours as well; never the right thing to do in such weather. Just makes me feel all the more misreable. The sweaters don't ward off the chill, neither do the innumerable cups of steaming lemon tea I've had today. Trying some good old adrak chai - let's see if that makes a difference.Been in a rather diffident, almost belligerent mood for the past few days. It's actually been growing steadily - this strange feeling inside me. Questioning why everytime I set my heart on something (or someone) it is taken away from me. It's happening with a rather alarming frequency this last month and I've become incredibly superstitious about talking about what I want and what I dream of achieving.
Time and again Martin Luther's words echo in my head :Nothing in all the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance & conscientious stupidity.And...In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.I'm perpetually berating myself for not knowing more - talking to friends, fellow-bloggers I'm uncomfortably aware of my appalling ignorance. Ok I'm not the popular blonde in class, not the complete dim-wit around and definitely have more in the upper storey than most unfortunate individuals, but damn it's just not enough! Not by any stretch of imagination! If it's not that, then I'm wondering why it seems like I don't know my friends anymore and vice-versa. Why do I get this wierd nagging feeling that I'm talking to a stranger every time I pick up the phone to talk to the people on whom I depend the most? Why are my friends not seeing through that composed façade I present to them? Makes me hesitant to pick up threads of newer relationships - makes me question why I want to meet these people and why they want to meet me. Makes my rude and hostile.No you won't see this on my face if you meet me - that's a big IF there; I'm getting habituated to my solitude these days. No I won't admit this if you ask me if I'm fine. Yes I bloody well am. I just need some time to get thing knocked back into shape inside my head (and heart). And I just want my friends lingering around at close distance, ready to offer that shoulder when I need it. Selfish and demanding? Well yes, I think I deserve it. I also think I'm coming down again with one of those awful Pune colds. Blech.
French songs I cannot possibly allow. People always seem to think that they are improper, and either look shocked, which is vulgar, or laugh, which is worse. But German sounds a thoroughly respectable language, and indeed, I believe is so." - Lady Bracknell, Act 1, The Importance of Being Earnest.
No, I haven't turned traitor and given up my love for French, I've just been reading Oscar Wilde. :-)
- Planning a post on Virginia Woolf and Mary Wollstonecraft for my Literary Mosaic. Hold your breath darlings! :-)
- Tickled pink at Abhishek B's hip-hop rap act in Bluffmaster. That man is the yummiest eye-candy we've got in Bollywood. He just gets yummier. :-)
Sometime back a very dear friend from Deutschland sent me this blog-link to check out and maybe follow up - Tales to astonish - 100 things about the Retropolitan. It snagged my attention. I recently started compiling the list - it's quite an exercise in getting to know myself! :-)
Today she sent another really interesting link to the 50 Book Challenge...I wonder if I should take this up? Perhaps it will add the much needed accelerator to my book-devouring pace. Another Blogwhore succumbed to the temptation and started her own blog. Kitana - you've read her comments. Now read what she has to say about love, life et al! Bienvenue to Blogger mon amie!
Well ideally speaking, it's loads of pasta (which I did have today) in creamy sauce, salads, cheese cake and chocolates, all washed down with some excellent wine. ;-) But for now it's music and books that are acting as awesome substitutes.Swinging my hips, shaking my leg and grooving to the beats of -
Hung up (Madonna), Spun (Flipsyde), Someday (Flipsyde), My Humps (Black-Eyed Peas), We Be Burning (Sean Paul), La Torutura (Shakira), I Don't Care (Ricky Martin) and more...all thanks to World Space Radio :-)
I still haven't figured out on what channel and what time the classics are aired. There is Orbit Rock, but then they only air Classic Rock. Ah well, till I figure out, Vh1 fulfills my appetite for Retro music. Today's quota included Dressed for Success (Roxette), Addicted to Love (Robert Palmer), Crazy for You (Madonna), Father Figure (George Michael)....
Devouring my book on mythology. The more I read, the more I realise how less I know and how much I still have to learn. Why didn't I realise this earlier? Like maybe when I was in college, or even better way back in school? For now, I must placate myself with the adage Der Sahi, Andher Nahin.
Did you know how the Egyptian custom of embalming the dead came into being? It started off with Osiris - Pantheon has a small write-up. Not very satisfactory but it does shed some light on the origins of the custom. Wikipedia has a little more to offer...but then it is Wikipedia after all!
The weekend was quite dreary - apart from class on Saturday (which I realise will be quite an exciting challenge once my predecessor leaves) nothing else brightened the days. To add to the general sense of gloom, I spent Saturday evening glued to the television watching Kevin Connor's adaptation of Frankenstein on Hallmark. Mary Shelley's Frankenstein was one of the few novels I truly enjoyed studying for M.A - I normally don't enjoy the classics. Appreciate them yes, but enjoy them, hang on to every word till the last page? Rarely. It was the postmodern, postcolonial and feminist texts that really got me going. Frankenstein, though popular under the genres of science-fiction and female gothic, has many sub-texts and deals with mythological, religious, psychological and postcolonial themes as well. Voila - can it get any more exciting? I spent many an hour in the University Library poring over Ellen Moers' The Female Gothic, Gilbert & Gubar's The Madwoman in the Attic: The Woman Writer and the Nineteenth-Century Literary Imagination and hunting down reference books dealing with the novel. I'd earlier seen Kenneth Branagh's adaptation starring Robert DeNeiro - admittedly it was a far more dramatic and faster-paced adaptation, but the one I saw on Saturday captured perfectly the sense of fear, dread and horror that the novel inspired in me. Gloomy or not, I'm glad I caught the movie :-) On a different note, I had to pen a script for the kids to enact at the Christmas party hosted by Alliance Française de Poona each year - it's been a long time since I indulged in any creative writing ;-) LOL!For those of you who can understand even basic French I've put it up on France Say. Take a look!
Like always when I'm in need for serious self-esteem boosting, I turn to books and I study - yes yes I know sounds bizarre. Some people turn to friends, others primp and go out and party - I burrow myself into books, read up on a subject that's always been of interest but never knew enough about it and get those grey cells racing. Books gracing my bed-side table as of now:
1. Mythology – Myths, Legends, & Fantasies, Ed. Parker Janet, Stanton Julie© Global Book Publishing Pty Ltd, 2003
2. France - Paysages. Visages. Lumieres, © Michelin, 1998
3. Picasso - Metamorphosis 1900-1972, © India Book House Pvt. Ltd, 2002
I finished with Greek & Roman mythology sometime last year and had shelved my book on Mythology in pursuit of fiction. I picked it up again this week and began with Arthurian legends, moving on to Egyptian mythology...
While reading the Arthurian legends, I but naturally came across the legend of the Holy Grail and I thought to myself, "Aha a topic of great interest to even one who couldn't care less about Arthurian legends et al, after the run-away success of Da Vinci Code..."
So here I am, with an tiny bit on the Grail - and yes for those of you who didn't know, the quest did exist before Da Vinci Code (ducks for cover as readers shoot missiles) ;-)
The Grail
The Grail is a complex object and its origins go far back. According to ancient tradition, the Dagda, Irish father go, possessed a cauldron of inexhuastible bounty accessible only to the brave. Several Irish stories feature goblet-bearing maidens, like the Grail Maiden, who dispense sovereignty to worthy candidates with a drink. In one Irish tale, the sea god, Manannan, gives King Cormac a magical chalice that is ahsttered by falsehood and reunited by truth. The story's symbolism suggests that the chalice represents the vessel of self. The conception of the Grail as container of self is reinforced by the Welsh version of Perceval, "Peredur." In this version, Peredur sees the Grail not as a cup, but as a human head. Some traditions speak of the ancient Celts using skullsas drinking vessels, and in later symbolism the vas, the crucible used by the alchemist is sometimes identified as a skull. Thus, the Grail quest, is one symbolic level, a transformation process carried ouit within the mind.
There is some evidence that the Grail is also concerned with pagan feritlity rites - the idea of sickly land finding restoration only through the Grail, as well as the Celtic idea of a cauldron of plenty. Later the Grail came to be associated with Christain ideas of the Holy Spirit: the Grail as a metaphor for the body containing the Holy Spirit.
Source: Mythology – Myths, Legends, & Fantasies, Ed. Parker Janet, Stanton Julie © Global Book Publishing Pty Ltd, 2003
Read more at "Grail." Encyclopedia Mythica from Encyclopedia Mythica Online. [Accessed November 24, 2005].
Folks signed the papers confirming the sale of our Bombay flat last week - and with those signatures another chapter in my life came to an end. The longest and most cheished chapter, since that flat is the only home I've ever known. It seems wierd to some of my friends that I attach so much importance to a flat I've moved out of over a year ago, but that is the place I've grown up to become who I am today. Almost all my cherished memories have it as the backdrop - and now I feel homeless. Sure we are looking out for a place in Pune and it's going to be a bigger place where I'll continue to have my own bedroom like I do here (something I"ve gotten accustomed to, and now consider a necessity)...but I'd do anything to turn back the clock and go back to that 2BHK flat with a terrace bigger than the flat... too late for that now. Guess it's truly time to move on, eh?
Battling my old demons for the last few days - promised myself I'll survive this battle by myself. No reaching out for that shoulder to cry on, but today I'm exhuasted. If I won't talk about it to my friends, I won't deny myself this catharsis as well. Damn it! I can take only one thing at a time - them demons or PMS. Combined they defeat me completely - mind, body and spirit. Damn damn damn!
Yes yes I know I keep saying Music is my Porn. That does not, I repeat DOES NOT mean I am into pornography. Some people enjoy it. Good for them. I don't. It does nothing for me. I do not want to be spammed with links for porn sites, nor do I want to know what I can do to get my man instant erection just like instant dosa. And no, I do not need to know how to enhance/enlarge my penis! Sure hotmail now has a bigger (enlargened if you like) inbox. And yes I do check my email everyday - sometimes several times in a day. That doesn't mean I have nothing better to do than to open my inbox just to delete spam mail! Stop spamming me for chrissake! Grrrrr!
Friend is getting married this week - I wish I could have gone. But I couldn't 'coz I start with a part-time job this week. My first step towards my goal. Don't ask me what the goal is, but you can ask about the job. I am going to be taking one of the batches of the children's course at Alliance Francaise de Poona. Nervous? A little - I'm not exactly an expert with kids. Excited? Yes very - suddenly I have lots of ideas about how to keep them involved and interested. Still don't know how I'll keep them disciplined but I guess I'll learn. The pay? Peanuts...but last I checked I wasn't one of those hunting for a job that turns me into a millionaire overnight. It's a start. I'll get there someday.
Wish me luck, people, for this new beginning.
Meanwhile my friend is going through the difficult phase of losing his bachelorhood. Ironically that isn't as much of an issue with him, as is the entire process of getting married in India with all our ceremonies and 'adambar' as he calls it...saying goodbye, bon voyage and all the best to him I felt a slight twinge of anxiety. Marriage may just take him away from me - he's one of my best friends. Probably the craziest, most stubborn and infuriating of the lot. Definitely the one I fight with the most. But also one of the closest. I hope I get along well with his wife...coz if I don't, I might just lose a friend.
I know he probably won't read this, with his scorn for my kind of blogging, but I wish you the very best mon cher ami. Always. I know the path ahead is probably strewn with thorns, but I also know you'll find your way through it to discover that treasure at the end...Bonne Chance et Felicitations Titu Dada!
Spending an evening in the kitchen dishing out some of your favorite dishes. Pasta Salad tossed with tomatoes, onions, olives & mushrooms in Thousand Island dressing, Au gratin, Macaroni Hotpot...Catching the Classics hour on VH1 and watching your favourite songs from childhood back-to-back. November Rain (Guns n Roses), Every Heartbeat (Amy Grant), In These Arms (Bon Jovi), Right Kinda Love (Jeremy Jordan), Never Forget (Take That), Rain (Madonna)....
Baking a cake - right from scratch. None of those ready mixes please! The smell of the cake filling the kitchen has got to be the most satisfying aroma ever...almost aphrodisiac if you ask me! ;-)Washing up after baking - Ok don't look at me like I'm insane. I abhorr washing dishes normally, but when I'm baking, there's something incredibly satisfying about washing up the mixing bowl, the mixer handles etc while the cake rises behind me in the oven, and that smell...ok I've already spoken about that, haven't I?Spending a day at a close pal's place just doing nothing...talking about nothing in general, making pots of coffee (some good, some worth washing down the drain) and guzzling it down over a ridiculous heated argument on an inane issue, patching up later over left-overs or take-out...
Walking down the beach all by yourself, letting the breeze run havoc through your hair, not botherng about the humidity making your skin shine like it shouldn't, watching the sun disappear as you perch yourself on a rock trying not to smile at the suspicious sounds emerging from the rocks behind :-)Doing the same thing with friends - only not ignoring the wierd sounds this time ;-) and making up silly songs about how the rain is falling in paradise, and someone is your fire and you're the ice...yes, we aren't winning the award for Best Lyricists 2006.Going for a long walk in the evening and returning wet with sweat - and then washing it off with aromatic shower gel under a hot, scathing shower. Ummm....follow that up with yummy home cooked dinner and curl up in bed for a dreamy sleep. Satisfying I tell you...
Gone for a drive past midnight with two guys, one whom you've just met and the other whom you've met just twice before - and not once questioned the wisdom of your actions? (question probably not valid for all my readers, but what the hell!). Friend's friend, who I count amongst my own friends was in town and picked me real late - went for glorious drive upto NDA and back. It was awesome - even though they were swigging from a RC bottle straight up!
Spent almost an entire day sharing the passenger seat of an Indica with another person, so you're squeezed up against the gear-shift and have the lift your thigh every time the drier wants to shift gears (which is like every 2 minutes on Pune roads) ?Dragged your friend to your favoured place in the city, only to find your friend leading the way? Bosom buddy was in town and I took her up the Tekdi - only to find her insisting we not take the beaten path up and thus leading the way as she picked her way through the shrubs...and then on the way down, with my marvellous lack of personal inertia, I was close to taking the quickest way down and had to resort to histrionics and grabbing hold of her hand in order to save my butt (not to mention pride)...yes, it is apparently my turf ;-)Sat under a canopy of trees at a biforcation, watching rickshaws and scooters drive past as you hogged down the yummiest Upma in town and then sip garam garam chai...and then followed it up with a rigorous fight with close pal, to end it with orders to have good coffee ready by the time you got to his place?Did a jig of pure unadulterated joy at reading an email from someone you adore beyond reason - just because the email confirmed that you do have some place in that person's life? That if you were to walk out without looking back, that person would try and pull you back? And then stare blankly at the compose window because you don't know how to frame a reply without letting go of the self-respect, pride and ego you've found with so much difficulty? Yes sometimes having an ego in a relationship helps - any relationship. Letting the other take you for granted isn't the way to a great relation with anyone. It's a lesson I've learnt the hard way.Just logged in to quickly check if anyone remembered you an/or commented on your blog and later felt guilty about not replying to the comments...better yet, felt guilty about not blogging for so many days? ;-)Yes that's just what happened to me the last few days - am actually at peace with myself after the longest time. The worries haven't really evaporated into thin air - there's still so much to be accomplished on all fronts and I haven't even started...but yes I'm at peace. Let it last - atleast for a while!Amen...
Ever noticed how some people always have a long wait before they finally get what they want and rightfully deserve? Sure, patience bears sweet fruits - how many times have I quoted 'Sabar ka phal meetha hota hai' to my friends who are fretting over things that refuse to move forward. But isn't there a limit to how much one is expected to patiently wait? And after all that patience, why doesn't the wait end with a sweet fruit, instead of something hopelessly bland, or worse incredibly sour?
Diwali - it's the only festival I truly celebrate. I love to attack it full-throttle, starting with sending out Diwali greetings by post (I used to faithfully help Papa and then took over the task a few years back). Then came the cleaning up - I revelled in that. There's a deep satisfaction in dusting out ignored corners of the house, scrubbing clean the kitchen, reorganising the shelves and cupboards...a few days before Diwali I sent out egreetings and started helping Amma with the preparations of Diwali goodies. Gujiyas (or Karanjis as some people call them), Shakar-paras, Mathris, Laddus...and put up lights on our terrace/balcony.
Then there was shopping - new clothes et al... :-)
Diwali came with a bang - the entire day flew past in getting ready for the evening's pooja and dinner. Amma would scold Bhaiyya and me for being lazy, pull her hair out when Papa returned from the market with everything that wasn't necessary and nothing that was on her list :-) But in the end, we'd be ready by 6.30-7 p.m and sitting together as a family for Lakshmi pooja. The only ritual I enjoy and look forward to with enthusiasm.
This year was different. No enthusiasm. None of the zeal and joie de vivre I associate with the festival. I trudged through some of the duties, skipped others. Let's just say life got in the way?
But then Diwali came - bringing along Mama who I was meeting after two years. Activity galore. Dhanteras pooja at the Phoenix Mecano Factory, followed by a long drive through rolling hills to Mulshi Dam. Pretty. Shopping. Picked up something very different for myself. I still can't believe it isn't Cotton! Papa got me blinking lights - they stay off longer than they stay on, but they blink - that's what's important. We strung them up in addition to our usual string of lights :-) Diwali pooja - Shaurya also did his little bit. He wanted to eat the laddus, instead of offering them to the Goddess! He's a foodie already - and he's just 5 months old! Watched the fireworks - they are nothing in comparison to Bombay, but the bright side of that is that it's not as noisy either. Besides Pune could do with less pollutants in the air! Dinner at Chacha's house for a change - I missed our dinner at home. Chachi doesn't make Malpuas *sulking*
Bhai Dooj - Amma did tikka for her brother after aeons. I could see how happy the two of them were. We may not attach much importance to rituals, but sometimes they mean alot and make so much difference. Mama left today. The house feels slightly empty, but I've moved back into my room. Have to do something to get that cigarette smell out of my bathroom - I used to think the smell doesn't bother me, but boy does it bother!
It's a New Year by the Hindu calendar - I've started it with some resolutions. It's time to get my priorities straight and it's time to focus on myself. I've let thing happen to me for too long - now it's time to make them happen for me. He says I've become bitter. Perhaps I have. I am disillusioned. I don't believe I deserve this - I deserve better. I am going to get it. That's a promise to myself.
Amen.
I seem to be surrounded with the choicest collection of the most stubborn, infuriating lot - and to think the ones I love the most are the most difficult of the lot.
Jesus does that say something about me?
*Appalled*
Random quotes about men that left me chortling with glee :-
Samantha: Men do this all the time. Women walk around thinking "we," and their version of "we" is "me"... and my dick!
(frm Sex and the City)
Men are like a fine wine. They all start out like grapes, and it's our job to stomp on them and keep them in the dark until they mature into something you'd like to have dinner with. (Kathleen Misfud)