eliamma

2011-05-16T10:39:00.005+04:00

Procrastination has waged war with me. My arch-nemesis and half-brother of indecision. He comes to avenge his sibling's crushing defeat. The retaliation was expected. Yet, for reasons unknown, I am only half prepared.

Time still remains to prepare myself, I am consumed by the thought of it. Action somehow eludes me. Clarity shines its perspectives everywhere, and Understanding stands shoulder to shoulder with me.

Determination desperately seeks counsel and insists on drawing up plans for battle. I acquiese and give her a postponed date. She is not happy, but has grudgingly accepted it nonetheless.

I stand overlooking a vast swathe of my existence. My empire. If only you could see it from my eyes. The vista is beautiful and humbling. As a child, it was a play field of discovery...today, there is so much at stake.

"Individuality, we must overcome this," I murmur.

I turn my head slightly to see him step up behind me. He feels what I am consumed by and nods slowly. His expression is grim. He doesn't take kindly to challenge. He is wise, yet ruthless when it comes to anyone questioning my sovereignity or my realm.

"Freedom has expressed her concern, your Majesty. She strongly advises a counsel with Determination and Energy. We must complete our stand."

I nodded slowly. I knew I had to meet with them, but something was holding me back, my mind suddenly veered away from the conversation as I caught sight of an upliftment soaring majestically past.

I was suddenly filled with a need to ride into congnizance, I scarcely noticed Energy enter.

I turned to find her sitting a little away from me on a chair, crackling in irritation.

"What word of our counsel gathering, my lady?"

"I...need to clear my mind."

"Forgive me, but I sense an avoidance..."

"No, no...Energy, you are mistaken..."

"Am I?..."

"Energy..."

"I speak out of turn, I know, but please, you must understand the urgency...the.."

"I understand! We will hold counsel, as soon as..."

"As..."

"As soon I have completed my ride into congnizance, for a review...I feel I must do this."

"My Lady, this is your seventh ride into cognizance; what do you intend to find, you must speak of an intention, otherwise..."

"I know what a cognizance ride requires, Energy..."

"Then I request permission to ride with you."

I stared right at her. Her fiery aura was beginning to take on an electric hue. I had to smile; such loyalty, such raw, brute passion. What was I waiting for, when my trusted instincts were armed and ready? I had no answer. The questions and diversions were many.

Individuality's sudden conjunction broke me out of my reverie. He opened his eyes and looked straight at me.

"It is Freedom, she has something important to tell us. We must meet with her immediately."

"Is all well?" I asked, suddenly concerned.

Energy was already gone. Individuality extended his arm, he didn't say a word.

____________

We approached Freedom's chambers. She had been confined to it since Procrastination's declaration of war. Her protection was an absolute requirement. However, bounding Freedom to chambers was a dangerous act of self-defence. She would not be contained for long. We had to act quickly.

Energy spoke the words to Freedom's chambers and the doors heaved themselves open. We entered to find her restlessly pacing before us. She looked up and her senses enveloped us instantly.

Experiencing Freedom's sense is to be stunned and breathless and overwhelmed to the highest degree. Until now, no one but individuality had been able to pair with her perfectly. They were joined in Energy's infintismal burst when the empire was first conceived. Only they truly understood each other's essence.

She rushed forward and enveloped us in her flow. She touched palms with Individuality. I was lost in abandon and needed to sit down. She knelt and touched my knee, and slowed her breathing. I opened my eyes and looked at her. Such weightlessness, such beauty.

"Are you present enough," she breathed.

I nodded.

Energy was stemming the flow; I was more connected to my ground realities now. I nodded again.

She sat back on her haunches and flopped to the floor, crossing her legs and cocking her head to one side.

"What holds you back, have you narrowed down the possibilities?"

"Why did you summon us, Freedom?" Individuality interjected.

"I must know this first, Indiv, it is important..."

I suddenly felt like I was back in infancy modus. Deep training, in the dead of night, while the outer world slept and all was unlocked. I sensed Energy's glow, and felt annoyance at the way they congregated around me.

"Nothing holds me back! Nothing!" I spat out.

"She is overwhelmed still...Energy..."

Energy sighed and her wattage pulsed down to the dullest glow I had ever seen. It frightened me. She eyed me with disappointment and walked out into the antechamber.

Freedom turned to me and smiled. "Tell me, please..."

"This is infuriating! I do not know! That's why I intend to do a cognizance ride, this time, I think..."

"Let Energy ride with you, Thought will come to your aid, but Reason will only come if you ask the right questions...you must know what you are looking for, only then will it manifest from the eternal sea of cognizance, you already know this."

"Then why REPEAT it?!" I asked stubbornly. I stood up in rage and made my way past them, striding toward the door, when I stopped mid-step.

"...Purpose, where is he hiding?"

"My lady..."

"Why won't Purpose meet with us?!"

Individuality stepped in front of Freedom, as if defending her.

"Your Majesty, Purpose was banished to incubation, several years ago, by your command."

My head began to spin. Part in anger and part in disbelief.

"What? Why?!"

"You were not pleased with his manifest."

"That's impossible! How can you say that?!"

"It is the truth, the war with indecision was long and fierce...it was during revivification, you blamed indecision's attacks on the empire on Purpose's lack of merit and substance..."

"How can that be...!," I stammered, I felt impotent and vile. My eyes began to burn.

Individuality stood his ground. He was too sure, too absolute. He could not fathom the sense in my outburst.

"What was Purpose's first manifest?" I asked breathlessly shaking from newfound resolve.

Freedom looked at Indivuality with a sudden glimmer in her eyes; she smiled at me like Hope would in the darkest times. I would have given anything to have Hope here now; but she was far, accompanying Courage to help summon and build the armies.

"You have identified your first question for cognizance, my Lady...now...we begin our ride to unlock the answer."

Energy was already back amongst us. She smiled and strode out calling for our transship. Individuality walked past and clenched my shoulder, nodding. He would ride with me too.

Freedom embraced me. "Remember, Procrastination's power is subtle but immense. He understands your weakness and strikes at the heart of it."

I nod. "Then this ride could be..."

"A diversion...yes...but it is where your answer to winning this war lies. Be brave, let nothing hold you back. May Courage's spirit ride with you. ."

"And Patience with you."

She smiles knowingly, and we embrace again.

As I walk out, my uneasiness is slightly abated as I think of my comrades joining me. I am not alone. The journey's magnitude settles on me once more. As I walk, I see them waiting for me. Understanding is at the ship's helm. I nod in acknowledgement.

My mind equips me almost without hesitation, I am clothed and sheathed. I step on to the transship and we ride out to into cognizance.

End of Part one.

Die inside.

2010-12-07T00:07:00.002+04:00

I was leaning into her car, when she told me. After a weighted pause, I was told that a person I knew had committed suicide. At first, it was quite difficult to take in. She didn't appear the kind. To commit suicide. She seemed so sure of herself. At times cocky, to the untrained eye. However, it would be silly to discount how she wore her chinks. There is no mistaking the vulnerability.

When I knew this woman, she was spearheading efforts to produce a play in which I was cast. It was a good project, it had all the trimmings for one hell of a reunion, if you know what I mean. In short, I really enjoyed my time working on this. I made a couple of friends, met up with others who weren't half as bad to hang out with while I lived (and loved) in this particular city.

She and I never really got on famously; the project however, threw us together and we were quite friendly and tolerant of each other. She was well loved by most of the group. Most of them were her friends. Others, weren't. I was part of the others.

The reason why I mention this is because, it is important to consider this as part of this post. It helps me explain, how I was able to look at her without the rose-tinted glasses and without the several layers we tend to draw as a buddy, lover, relation, friend or wannabe.

It helped me get there faster. I didn't need lifting, you see.

Most of the time, behind her smile - lay this fragile frame of energy. It was almost as if she was drawing all that she could from her source to hold herself together. As a result, her mood swings were excessive. Holding it together must have really taken a toll on her on most days.

The drink sessions or the get-togethers after practice on some days, was an escape. Indulgent and rewarding to her. Balm like. During practice, we would have breaks, and I would see her gnawing at her finger-nails and nodding excessively as the director and production team briefed her on what was going on.

Sometimes, she would walk over to some of us and display paternalistic emotion, asking us if we were doing okay and if we were pumped. I wanted to ask her the same thing, I never really did though...I was scared she's collapse into a heap if I did.

Everyone was going on about how strong she was, how organised, how adept and how she was the only one holding it all together for the project. Self-serving? Maybe, but I also believe that they believed it when they said it. Either they didn't want to deal with what they saw or they didn't see it at all.

She hung herself on the eve of February 14. After a night of partying and a fight with her partner / husband. 20 minutes. He stepped out to buy cigarettes and calm down. She locked her self in and got it over with. She left no note.

In one of my earlier posts, I've indirectly (or directly) blogged about suicide. A self-reflection piece. Yes, I had a lot on my mind. And yes, I have thought about it. Several times. Have I tried to take my own life? No. Maybe, just maybe, I'm chicken. I'm working on a more refined response, but this is what I have so far.

I believe for the next few weeks, the friends and friends of friends must have sat up in shock and tried to play back the hours that led to this catastrophe. Till date, no one I know has come back with an explanation. The last I heard, they say her husband was put behind bars, as a murder suspect. Her family thinks he's responsible. Well, if that's anything to go by he's fucked, for awhile at least.

When I thought about it (suicide that is), I've often considered the inconvenience it would cause others. The messy business of walking the thin red line between what went wrong and what one didn't see and saving one's own ass; since this is an unnatural death, of course.

I've thought about loved ones going in for questioning, dealing with the body, the hunt for personal effects. The hiding of or playing down of the suicide by a landlord, especially when it comes to finding another tenant. If it's your own house, it's the case of the messy memories and scared younger generation, who will never consider sleeping in the room until their over 30 and sufficiently skilled in the whole concept of being balanced when it comes to negotiating childhood fears and family legend.

I think of the funeral and the curious gazes from people who only come to watch the survivors of the family break down piece by piece. And then proceed to eavesdrop on close family and see if they can piece a good enough story to spread out and quench THAT thirst which is never slaked. I think of the wake, the ground, the rotting. I think of how everyone will move on. Most without a scratch. Others with a reality check. And a precious few with their vitals performing below optimal.

What drove her to do it? What was it that snapped?

Was it reason? Was it meaning? Was it feeling?

What does it feel like when your brain shuts down and you're a countdown to self-destruction? Literally.

How do you fashion a knot that won't give through all that rushed and insane breathing? How do you manage it in time? Do you have an adrenaline rush, when you're trying to do this before someone can save you? Do you have the satisfaction of watching them crumble when they find you, eventually?

Was it fear of failure? Dissatisfaction? Lack of purpose? Was it revenge, served cold? Were you tired? Did it not matter any more? Any of it?

I think as lives extinguish around us. We'll never truly learn the answer to our questions. Everyone has a reason, valid enough for their misery or happiness. When you can't look misery in the eye because it's too ugly, you'll never truly accept who you really are. Cause we all want to be beautiful, the illusion of perfection is such an intravenous addiction.

Being happy is necessary. No doubt. But it's learning to be sad that we need to master. Irrevocably so, and once we have, we must own it. Own it like it's your own. Not someone else's. Feel it, let it wrangle with you, shake your bones and flood your system. Clench hard, focus and coil into a big ball. Die inside. Rising from the ashes is the easy part.

Die outside. And you won't.

Rise.

When the penny drops. It isn't always nice.

2010-11-14T00:43:00.004+04:00

A few months ago, I tried to get back in touch with a friend. We had met through work and through the rough patches (I assure you there were many at this particular place) we seemed to always end up seeing a big patch of light at the end of it. In short, I enjoyed her company and she mine.

We parted from daily exchange after we both left the company. Distance as the realists will have it, does not make the heart grow fonder. Over the next year we moved on an even orbit, not meeting, yet knowing where each other was and how each of us was carrying on.

We met, a couple of times, and on other occasions we would catch up on the phone. Over that year, I realised that it was the very first time, I missed someone from any place I've ever worked. Genuinely. That emotion, was the catalyst for me thinking up the possibility of a sustained friendship.

Sadly, a few months ago, the penny dropped. It was not her intention to carry on a friendship. In her eyes, I no longer held that lustre. Also, she had bigger fish to swim with now. Also, we both don't really speak the same language effortlessly.

It hurt to think that out of the few people I do really tend to genuinely some really nice ones do a turn coat. Sad, because their excuses are valid and yet so lame at the same time. They're almost relieved that they are busy and don't have to beat about the bush to say it. But I think to myself, if I mattered. Really mattered to you, you'd make an effort. Like I did. Like I dud, rather.

So...plink. The penny has dropped.

C'était génial. Adieu, ma chérie. Peut-être que vous regarderez en arrière et se demander «et si» ... et puis je vais dire ... "Nous ne saurons jamais maintenant, allons-nous?"

Discussions versus Action

2010-09-22T13:54:00.005+04:00

As part of my personal strategy of action, I partner with Word Quotient (www.wordquotient.com) as a committed creative professional. As Director, Web Presence Management (WPM) at WQ, my present aim is to find clients and freelancers who are committed to recognising and implementing change (not only from a business perspective but also by being personally invested in it).

Word Quotient is a creative writing company with a difference. We operate 99% virtually.

I recently posted a blog entry on the WQ website blog talking about Discussion versus Action, which is something I feel very strongly about both out of personal interest and also as a professional when it comes to innovation, collaboration and collective action.

Groping for an A-ha.

2010-09-19T22:21:00.003+04:00

I think we're all looking for something to believe in. Deep enough that we make it through to another day - looking forward to it.

When we eagerly stare at another and are taken in by their sense of content, we aren't necessarily hating (although there are parts of us that would like to...hate), but sensing something that there is something being believed in.

Is that why chefs wake up to a tumultuous day at their restaurant and loves every minute of it? Is that why audition lines string across the street and around the corner? Could it be the reason for nine year novels in the making and lonely hours spent in space?

Why do we do the things we do?

What is it that compels us so much?

Does it matter to anyone else past a certain degree of obvious? Personally, the feeling is, it doesn't (matter to anyone past a certain degree of obvious). So what makes you or him or her do it?

What I've heard from the handful of people I've seen in this state of zen is, "I couldn't fathom doing anything else, this is what makes me happy."

Okay, but why?

"It matters..."

What does?

"I do, what I do matters, what it does for me matters, what it does for others...I don't know, it's quite obvious to me and therefore I cannot do anything else."

Okay...

Almost all of the time, I find myself almost willing that epiphany to come to life. forcing it out of incubation or thrusting my hand into a sac of nothing and groping for an a-ha.

Bursts and spurts, bursts and spurts. People and reason. Situations and places. Silence and noise. Sullen and joyous.

People. Situations. Silence. Sullen.

reason. places. noise. joyous.

Patterns out of nowhere. Faces on the bathroom tiles. Messages in condensation. Signs leading nowhere.

Scanning: pages, faces, posts, emotions, conversation, noise, colours, textures, food, liquid, pieces, juice, waves, slippers, feet, hands, fingers, ring, nails, brow, mouth, tongue, chin, neck...

Heart.

I think it starts here.

2010-08-05T10:13:00.002+04:00

What is it that they say about insight? Today, I'm leaning toward Herodotus...“The worst pain a man can suffer: to have insight into much and power over nothing”

I'd be lying if I didn't say it was an ability. Some of us just have it in us to see beyond the layers, hear behind the words and feel behind the projections.

When you're sitting there and you're seeing things for what they are, instead of feeling powerful, you feel overwhelmed with what you're able to discern that others are joyfully oblivious about.

In the beginning, you want it all to stop - the noise, the real words, the hypocrisy of of being in something, knowing fully well that is isn't what everyone thinks it is. You feel alone, despite being surrounded by stimuli of every type, class and form you can imagine.

I see and hear a head talking, its mouth moves and shapes words, and like a badly dubbed movie with a delay, I hear the real thoughts spiral out after their mouths stop moving. I get sucked into their streams of thought, while they sip on drinks and laugh.

I spiral down their water slides. Sometimes its loads of fun...especially when I cannot relate to anyone or anything that I am thrust into/at forcibly. It's like the Simply Red video (pleasure at the fairground on the way...), but only you're in it alone. Don't get me wrong; I do have insane fun most of the time!

About the pain. You do feel that too. Insane shots of it, in your head, your heart, your soul. It tries every portal, shaking the door knobs, rattling the locks, trying to get out and manifest. Harnessing this pain requires immense sacrifice, it is the only way to gain mastery of the ability and reverse your powerlessness.

2010-07-23T08:52:00.003+04:00

My expectations from life have been debilitating to say the least. I often out-expect everyone out of the park and end up sitting on a bench all alone wondering why it is quiet and lonesome.

It isn't what but why?

If it isn't the battle against meaningless or the rage against the mundane, I am otherwise consumed with thoughts that have little or no meaning in the cosmos. Except for the odd principle and code, the others are wisps in grey smoke, which I replenish when it is about to disappear.

I upset someone very dear today. It's the smoke! I promise you.
I am addicted to its acrid smell and its foggy countenance. It shielded me from so much; and now I have run out of reasons to envelope myself.

What is down to a few clouds will become mere shadows. All I ask for is understanding and you.

Moving Stills

2010-07-14T16:22:00.003+04:00

Solitude makes you see how animated your surroundings are when all along you thought it was just you.

The past few weeks has seen me locked up in my room after work, reading or watching television for a few hours or just listening to the silence around me. It was unnerving at first. Discomfort. Pure and unadulterated.

I have grown accustomed to this extended splodge of loneliness; like a heated balm it stung at first, then it burned and now it's a deep and beautiful warm pulse. The stillness around me has lost its inhibition. It now moves, darts and orbits magnificently; and then...suddenly - will lie dead, willing me to believe that I'm seeing things.

But I'm not. I see the dark spots on the marble floor slither to another section of the floor; wisps of shadows dart behind the chairs that face my bed; specks of light bullet into the ether like shooting stars - but only faster.

All of this happens simultaneously or at random and I dart my eye to the motion only to see it settle or hide.

I close my eyes and tried to replay them in my head...and all at once, all of those phantasmal '!did-its?' play out like a complete tape. And it is terrifying and beautiful at the same time.

I once leapt up and switched off the light and lay with my eyes wide open. The pitch black of the room waned to a milky-grey and then a tinge of blue dove into the room. Literally. I could see every square-inch of my cube.

As the coloured light crashed and receded; the decrescent night shook out its music. Zzzzzzzzzz...

Lizard Brain

2010-07-01T15:13:00.005+04:00

I believe the first step to my conquering my fear of lizards, is to understand my lizard brain.

I was pleasantly surprised to know that a primitive organ in the brain called the amygdala - the centre of our basic emotions: fear, anger and sexual desire. To learn that this is what we have in common with the lizard was a bit disconcerting.

To think that the reptile has the same 'lack' and 'attack' mechanisms with which I operate in the modern world was bit too far fetched at first. Gradually, though, after thinking and reading further about it, I realised, that it was possible. More so, definite.

I typed 'overcoming fear of lizards' in Google, this afternoon to realise that as I scrolled past the usual online community boards that just affirmed fear and had no real solution to the problem, I was able to find more helpful links to understanding what exactly happens when I am cornered in a room with a lizard.

And in a modern context - considering I'm not exactly faced with a Komodo dragon (or a chameleon!) - is irrational. The dread, is related to a single or few extreme emotional experiences, that can either be traced through the parent or the self, depending on the circumstance.

So what am I to do? How the flip does one overcome this?

The article link, I've made as the title of this blog, discusses it from another stand point. It resonated with me because whether I face it as a literal fear or metaphorical, both have a tyrannical hold, which I'm in the process of overcoming. Although I've made major progress when it comes to the latter, the former is a challenge.

Davender is right when he writes 'the lizard brain does not like the unknown'. I agree, I don't like it at all. I've never liked the unknown.

After reviewing major and minor life-incidents of note, I can now say, I don't like NOT being in control of most things. I attribute that to emotionally having to fend for myself from a young age. In other instances, I was able to get things done better and more efficiently when I did things myself. One thing led to another and the reinforcement worked its magic.

I am now beginning to realise that I can let things breathe and work themselves out, especially when it comes to shared experiences and circumstances. Although the maxim 'I can only be responsible for myself' soothes the nervousness that preludes one letting go, what I have come to understand is that when I allow others to do their part (however, well or sub-standard), it has no bearing on me or the circumstance as a whole. It is what it is. Therefore, it is not unknown, but an occurrence.

Wouldn't my lizard brain then immediately react and say, that then each occurrence would present itself as a bomb from which we cannot protect one-self without being smacked with an outcome first?

How does one rationalise one's fear here? How do we prepare for it? The link talks of reducing or avoiding the unknown. Reducing I get. Avoiding...hmmm....how does one do that?

I could let go of the unknown completely. It's like saying I know everything there is to my life - nothing is unknown. It's impossible, so then I do not think about it, but face each part of my life as it presents itself.

Where do I go from here? I don't know, I'm here now typing. I'll probably be assigned another task and then get to go home, bathe, watch some television, read or sleep. Past that and a reasonable expectation of a routine, I do not know what else. It is unknown.

Why does that not induce fear? And yet at the same time, I am that much closer to a heart attack when a lizard presents itself on a wall?

On reading further, I learned that the irrational fear response has a lot to do with my associating reptiles with a/a few extremely negative emotional experience(s) in my life. Possible. One can't rule it out.

I think a major part of my fear of the reptile was passed down to me from my mother. Watching her almost bring the house down when a lizard was either on the wall, floor or behind the cleaning supplies, must have reinforced an extremely negative perception of the harmless thing.

Then on seeing larger versions of it, the fear only compounded itself. Followed by harmless jokes and chiding from friends, made me internalise it further, until it dissolved into my very psyche.

Understanding this, helped me see how deep the rabbit hole can really go. From this branches and roots take form, mutating into other irrational fears, until finally, the real reason for fearing a reason is no longer visible and the lizard becomes the innocent recipient of repulsion, hate and disgust.

I'm only looking at the branches right now. If I have to get to the roots, I've got to start cutting faster. The lizard now presents itself as a reminder of the unfinished business I have inside.

For the most part, I'll probably prefer if the actual reptile and I mutually acknowledge our differences and stay a good distance from each other. Otherwise, I must say, that whenever I have encountered it, my mind immediately brings something I need to deal with to the surface.

If I can continue to look at it positively, I'm looking at making peace with this creature and not have it pop up when I least expect it. I just need to 'remove the risk, and the lizard brain goes back to sleep'.

2010-06-24T16:45:00.004+04:00

As I was going about my work today, I was suddenly washed over by a wave of abject fear when I remembered a faint childhood memory of nearly being kidnapped.

Not only have I never related it in detail to my family, but it happened so fast and my instincts so sound that I passed it off as a phantasmal imagination. Until of course, I played back that memory scene for scene in my head not 10 minutes ago.

I remember walking back from my extra tuition class, which was opposite to my home. And as I was rounding the corner to the main gate, a Maruti Omni van stopped next to me. The right sliding door opened and a man extended his upper torso out of the van with a worn piece of paper in his hand.

His expression wasn't menacing, in fact, it was quite friendly. He was sitting with his back to the driver and interestingly another elongated seat installation faced him; I knew this, because another passenger was seated opposite to him, I could see his legs.

He asked me for directions to a place, which parallel to the lane I lived on. That was the first sign. This is when I started to take in everything about the van and how the driver wasn't even idling his engine. He kept revving it for some reason, which I assumed was to keep the battered vehicle alive.

I pointed the man in the direction he was supposed to take. The second sign, was that he wouldn't get out of the car completely, willing an unsuspecting child or teenager to inch closer to him to look at the 'address' he was looking for.

When I noticed how dingy and dark the interiors of the car was, I immediately looked the guy straight in the eye and a very deep rage began to boil inside of me. I know this now, because I was confused by the amount of adrenaline that was suddenly coursing through my veins.

I tentatively took a small step back and kept staring at the man. He didn't notice and then proceeded to ask if I would step into the van to show them the way. Dead give away. I firmly said no and took a bigger step back and instinctively looked over to the balcony and pretended that someone was there and waved.

Before I knew it, the van door slammed shut and the van disappeared out of sight in the exact opposite direction of where it was 'supposed' to have gone. I breathed hard for exactly 2 minutes as I literally strode to the gate. By the time I was upstairs, my mother was too busy screaming orders for chores to even notice my story, which she heard in bits between the piercing whistle of the pressure cooker and the shrill sizzle from the pan.

I remember playing the incident back in my head for exactly 2 minutes again, before my teenage angst kicked in and I was busy defending my 'independence and individuality' that was brought up for questioning with said requests for household responsibility.

With all that behind me now; the sheer force of fortuitousness hit me smack in the face.

Wow. What a rush, knowing that sometimes, when you least expect it, the force remains strong with you. And for that I am eternally thankful.

2010-06-22T09:36:00.003+04:00

As I walk to and from my place of intern-ship, I see different kinds of people. We all do. See each other.

I have been noticed as an anomaly in my building. I am a curious thing to the Gujju wives, who sit on the stairs to catch the cool air that spirals upwards, but never enters their homes for some strange and infuriating reason.

My hair cut in a side-swipe mullet, a swirl that would make Justin Beiber blanch with envy; my penchant for pants and my silent demeanour, all combine to make me a perfect reason to loathe with awe. Don't get me wrong, I'm not pandering to myself. I've done enough of that, with disastrous results for the egos around me. ha ha!

It is this initial reaction to my person, that switched on my observation radar and it has been on auto-pilot since.

So back to my walks.

Today, I watched an old man slowly walk his route around the gated 'society' that he lives in. I overtook him in a few strides, but not before noticing that his thin cotton kurta, worn to battle the heat was soaked to the threads. It stuck to his enormous canvas of a back like wet mache.

His dhoti billowed around him, like he was sitting on a cloud that moved at the pace of snail. His walking stick, an oar.

I realised that he could do nothing about his situation, except to keep walking, until he reached his gate. As I passed him, he looked over at me. A moving pan shot, was my view. What he saw, a passing comet.

His eyes said most of what he wanted to; his eventual avoidance of my returning gaze was the end of the brief exchange.

"I used to walk faster than you; you should know that. I wasn't so big, I had a defining frame. Does it feel good to walk fast? It must, I know it made me feel powerful. We all slow down after awhile, some more than the rest. I am part of the more, the excess. I know that, you don't have to tell me. Go on, there's nothing left to see. Nothing."

For a moment, I wondered what it would be like. Old, without the distractions of our created environments. It would be such deafening silence. The mind would then start to speak again, and all that wisdom we wanted then, would come spilling out now. And we would try and impart it, desperately and as a result look desperate. Trying to claw meaning back with this knowledge. But will it come?

We would be looking at the noise from the outside in. Sadness of knowing would no doubt become our responsibility. Who else would want it? And then in that knowledge, we wait for our next journey out of the inside, out of the outside. To the infinite.

"Then my love, I will be the light; faster, brighter and stronger. I will be the comet."

2010-05-25T09:53:00.004+04:00

People everywhere are living my dream. Right now. As I write this. Every single one of them I thought were only mine have been spliced and diced into tiny shiny cubes that are imploding my dream into the palms of others.

My dream starts with difficulty and then accelerates into sheer raw pain and finally explodes into a gratuitous sigh as all the pain slips away and I am transformed into a ball of light. Free, brilliant, powerful and beautiful.

Will I ever have an exclusive projection that is solely mine? Will I ever find a calling that no one else is plagiarising? Bloody shit!

Must I be reduced to rehashing my dream after it was eaten and passed through someone else's gut?

Frustration, what's not to know? It's balled up inside of me like a twisted globe of rubber bands. Bruising my innards like a rancid, hardened hair ball. I cough, but all it does is nestle stubbornly against the folds inside. It's a tumour. That moves.

I want to spit it out on a carpet and watch it writhe and become still, without a host. But how? Where is that idea, that magical moment, that light bulb? I almost feel like we're fresh out, because of those damned idiots! Idiots who won't let my ideas be. Why won't you go die in a jungle somewhere? Away from me! WHY?

I must become quiet and drown out the noise in my head. That way you won't be hear me, hear my ideas, steal them, feed on them. I must become quiet. I must focus, I must cough up the tumour. I must kill it.

I'd like to say...

2010-04-16T18:30:00.003+04:00

I'd like to say, that you know me.
In reality, it is not true.
You may think that you know me.
It's pretty clear, you think you do.

For all the scheming and the plots,
For all the mindless games you play
You may think that you've got me
But in time, you will despair.

For when a gyre spins it's endless
When the torture starts to prick
You may think it an indulgence
To sit back and watch me sink.

But a gyre is as treacherous
As it's creator, did you not know?
You'd like to say that it was for me,
But the gyre will never think so.

Come in, love, join me.
The gyre's got room for two.
Let's dance this little dance shall we?
And see who comes out true.

For the gyre is an endless spiral
Until the maker decides its end.
I'd like to say that you know me,
In reality, let's not pretend.

Invictus

2010-03-29T15:33:00.001+04:00

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the Pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeoning of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll.

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

- William Ernest Henley

Decision.

2010-03-29T08:00:00.002+04:00

I'm staring at the books that line the shelf above my computer.

It's packed and house many that I have not read yet. I keep staring at them wondering about the times I will pick up one and read it cover to cover. I look at them with longing, with want and yet I do not reach out for them.

Is it because I'm looking for that perfect moment when I know I can read in peace and not be disturbed? Could it be that I'm just procrastinating?

Why would I procrastinate about a book, though? Why would I NOT want to read??!

I grew up with books; it gave my adolescence meaning, reason even.

What exactly am I waiting for?

I have no answer that satisfies.

I used to be able to read one book from cover to cover - now I read books in pieces and halves and slivers. Leaving odd bookmarks in over 3 titles. One in my work bag, another in my jhola, and one more around the house. Like string around my finger, to remind me that I must read, I must re-connect with the page, with the words again.

There's so many of them, I wish you could see! So many of them to dive into, so many of them to gain inspiration from.

The book in my work bag inspires me everyday; because each story reveals the extraordinary in things we deem mundane. It finds and tells it's essential story and I realise that my life and times could very well be the same.

What a decision!

You who didn't, don't and won't bother.

2010-03-13T11:10:00.003+04:00

Understanding what you do and why you do it, is very important. It determines how the entire effort turns out, it also determines whether you could do it over again, a sequel to excellence.

It's not easy when people don't appreciate what you do for them. When the grudgingly have to accept that you did a good job, because someone else was kind, nay, gracious enough to applaud your efforts against a lot of odds to come out and deliver something that despite every possibility of failing comes out trumps.

Say you've put in 100 per cent and then someone just for the sake of it decides, they'd like to rain on your parade - because they just couldn't spoil it for you while you were neck deep in shit anyway - to really make it sting by looking the other way, instead of having the balls to appreciate something well done.

What would you do? How would you take it?

Most often than not you would silently revel in the fact that you pulled it off, despite people hoping, praying that you would mess up. But you would also, feel incomplete? Yes?

A niggling, irritating feeling that it isn't complete unless this effort, this pure energy filled input is appreciated.

No?

Well, I had a bout of 15 minutes; where I felt so completely unappreciated.

I then sat and thought about it. I worked with different people, different back grounds, respected them, shared laughs, even common irritations. Had met and shared good moments, and experienced different people coming together out of mutual respect to help each other out and make it happen.

The ultimate result was better than expected and the response, better than what everyone thought it would be.

You know what? I didn't do it for anyone. I did it for me, and it was good.

When I do something...anything...I'll make sure I do it for me. Then it will matter and be appreciated. It doesn't matter if the end result benefits me directly or not.

I'd like to thank the persons who appreciated what I did. It made me feel good about myself and finally worked out for everyone in the end.

To those who didn't even bother...fadafishkyaooboink!

Experiencing that Instant.

2010-03-04T21:41:00.004+04:00

I had a rough day today; in terms of work I was completely overloaded right from the time I stepped through the door. I had a set-back, left work late and generally had one of those days that conjure up a real scanner-darkly kind of post.

But.

I also had an epiphany this week.

:).

That epiphany enabled me to enjoy - a magical moment. I was in that instant.

If I were to describe the circumstance; it would most definitely be droll to most. If I were to explain the moment, it wouldn't really register with most either.

But it did with me; and that's what I care about. And that's what I'm going to share.

...

A radio spot. That's the premise for this story. A radio spot here, where I live and work, is no biggie. It's a print ad in audio form. At my place, we try and keep it minimal, uncomplicated and hint at sophistication, because it is the easiest thing to do.

The brand expects it, we can't flog the brand. And so it's reasonably quiet, our radio spots.

Historically speaking, many radio spots have re-defined the way products have been marketed. The radio ad's versatility, it's pure power to transform a simple text message into an aural wham! sits high atop a snow clad mountain somewhere, where only the brave, the crazy diamonds, the swashbucklers tread.

That's historically and quite literally speaking.

Let's move on.

So. The magical moment.

Notice how I'm breaking it down. Drawing out all possible air, wings, legs this experience could use to show you how magical this moment was.

The English talent was perfect, he always gets it pat in one or two takes, he's pleasant, charming, no-nonsense and a complete gentleman.

He left with a hand-shake, well wishes for the weekend and a nod. The more we see and work with him, the more we like the guy. He's swell.

So, the next talent was the Arabic talent. He wasn't here yet. No biggie, we still had time - the takes were perfect for the first spot remember?

I sit down to a nice tall mug of hot, black coffee. I like it here, it's quiet, it's good wooden panelled floors, the couch is perfect. I strike up a conversation with our producer.

We start with work, as always, meander through simple conversation about the weather and life and then I ask the question I always ask, "Do you love what you do?"

"Yes, of course! This is what I've always wanted to do"

Our exchange is half an hour opened a portal. To another dimension in my head. I started hearing between the lines, every simple story or anecdote had a hidden message, it was spiritual, it was direct. His take on his life choices, and his thoughts about people, situations, unravelled into another script that made a whole new set of thoughts for me.

"Take marriage, for instance, when you marry for love, he could be a pauper and you'll still stay, because you love him. Doing what you love, is pretty much the same thing, you're never in it for the money," he said.

"When you start organising a marriage alliance, then there's a whole lot of research into whether the person can provide for you, partner with you in achieving a certain status or life goal, matches up to your reputation of who are what you represent, which is nothing, you're just trying to set something up for yourself. It almost feels like one of those dead-end job hunts."

"One small mistake with a person you don't love, is a huge issue that you carry with yourself, if it was someone you loved, your ability to accept that flaw, overlook it, forgive it even, is infinite."

"When you do something you love, the darkest days, are just challenges, just another few hours in your journey toward something you know is so worth the pain. Marriage, love, investments, emotion - take anything you want as an example, and the allegory, it's the same."

Dark days are dark days no more. They are just nights of patience. When you do something you love. When you find someone you love. When you know what you want. :).

And so it continued, our conversation travelled on.

"Having passion but no science to back it, only results in an adrenaline rush."

You could have all the intention you want, all the ideas in the world...but if you have no science (knowledge) to give this intangible intentions life, then it is a waste.

"Experiences makes you, your ability to observe and internalise them and convert them into something useful, creative, experiential, your own - that elevates you to a view that only you can have. It's called vision."

It is here, me hearties, that our second talent walked in.

My mind was racing. Positivity, the sheer brilliance of the exchange, the feeling like I had a conversation not with a person, but a fellow soul. It was heart warming, reassuring and most importantly powerful.

I smiled and shook hands with our talent, he was peaceful and ready.

He took the script after having a leisurely catch-up with everyone, stepped into the voice booth and did a mock take. 25 seconds. The producer and I watched the console and measured the seconds. I furrowed my brow for exactly 5 seconds, I mumbled, about 20 seconds to myself, just a quick mental note.

I glanced over to the booth window, smiled a little, and waited for the producer to say his peace.

The talent spoke before that.

"You want 20 seconds? You've got it."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. How the hell did he hear me? Did he hear me? I glanced over to the producer, who for some reason, flicked the switch, without a second thought and said, "...and we're rolling..."

What happened after that, people, I cannot describe, but can only say - was magic.

In one full swoop, Talent 2, read from a script he barely had for 2 minutes, with such familiarity, speed and confidence that it created a zing not only in my brain, but the entire room.

For one complete moment, everything, and I mean everything, just came together - fused into one pulsing ball of energy. And it was done.

I almost jumped from the couch, but I stood up like spring and started to clap with such joy, I have not experienced in years!

I strode up to console and waited with bated breath. "Was it okay, is that 20 seconds?!," I asked.

Producer, incredulous himself, slowly selected the recording bar and then looked up and said, "20 seconds..."

I had to laugh. I don't why, I just did. It was one of the most amazing moments of clarity, strength and joy. I didn't know why, I just felt elated!

I shook Talent 2's hand, shook my head, and paced the room for a good 5 minutes, before the energy dithered around me. Like fairy dust.

I had experienced magic in a completely ordinary moment.

I had experienced that instant.

Post script:
The set-back? We got two digits wrong - in the telephone number. Usually, that would have completely bogged me down. But here's the thing, it didn't, hasn't and still won't. I'm still high from that moment. And two digits, hell, nothing (!) is going to take that away from me. Whoo!

2010-03-04T08:01:00.002+04:00

The day does not unveil what it holds in store.
To fill the fear of the unknown, we fill it with meaningless actions.

A force field of useless to stop our ears and eyes from what actually is out there.

No more.

I will find meaning in a material world. I will embrace a new way of life.

No more drama.

2010-03-03T08:29:00.004+04:00

Sure I have. Many times. I don't dwell on it long, and I don't plan out the details. But I have thought of it.

I then realised life as it were, on earth, others, the universe will still carry on like nothing happened. My disappearance would mean a loss for some - for awhile - a lesson or tortured memory they would carry in their souls and then life would go on.

Just like that.

In a way, I am both integral and secondary to the larger scheme of things. A hurtful yin yang.

At dinner last night, my conversation with Adhitya was quite interesting, for the first time (the very first), I found myself listening to what was being said, rather than drafting a response in real-time.

I'm always drafting a response in real-time; a ready answer for every clever, stupid, wasteful, intelligent, boring, dumb, insightful...

What he said suddenly revealed another side to myself that I had not really looked at before. I was allowing myself to be a victim to the circumstances around me. And I gloriously wallowed in it.

For every joyous possibility, I drugged on the morose opposite, simply because it so much easier to get attention that way. It is. Look around us, and you'll see people finding it a much easier game to be in problems, irritation, nit-picky situations. In the grander scheme of things none of what we do in these situations will even matter. None of it. But yet, we thirst like leeches for an endless supply for the complicated.

Some of us come hard-wired with it. Maybe my grander purpose is to show what a colossal waste of time being that way can be.

My gene pool is teeming with dramatic. We're dramatic about going to a movie as much as we can be dramatic about death in the family. Would it be funny if I said that is a constant I grew up on? I don't blame anyone from the gyre, it's just that - that was we knew.

When I broke that cycle and went to the quiet for awhile, I was unable to comprehend people's nonchalance to everyday life. In fact, I hated it. So much, that I tried to create a huge din, so that I could feel at home. Safe to say, not many people joined the train.

But the few who did, liked it for awhile and then left.

I believe this was the pattern I refused to see.
I guess life doesn't hand you a platter with the coordinates to where you're heading. I also learned (the painful way) that 'din' does not help you get anything.

So am I settling then? Din-makers, am I?

I don't know really, I think I'm stepping into the unknown, where din is not allowed. A new set of rules apply, or maybe there are no rules, just no noise. No more drama.

2010-02-02T14:34:00.003+04:00

The honeymoon is over.
Take your head out of the sand.
Shake your lids free of the grit, the sandman so generously poured into your eyes.

Arise from your sleep,
Awake from a dream, you called reality.
Pinch yourself, bruise your skin. Make it purple, so you remember.

The yawn of agony. The stretch of settling.

Experiencers

2009-10-19T17:16:00.001+04:00

Today was quiet. I tried reading up one several things at once. It's been ages since I've had an extended roll of hours like this. Even in the noise the silence came through, dominant and it is welcoming as well as disconcerting. Especially for a person like me, who needs to engage when the hours of engagement have been put on paper and signed. Like a job contract?

It's not like I feel guilty, I just feel like I'm not being useful, when I'm supposed to be.

Anyway, as I sat and read the reports on renewable energy, art and restaurant reviews from pages across the world, I suddenly had a thought about friends.

If you look at the long list I have on facebook; I'd almost believe I'm a pretty popular person. The thing is, see, I'm not.

And all those people - the 200+ - are faces I know, some are good people I know, some are people I just met and know, others I just know and a handful, nay, a smidgen of those are friends.

I don't know if I can call them real friends. To be fair to them and myself, I really don't know what constitutes a good friendship. The bar is different for every single person.

For most it constitutes meaningful hours and experiences spent with a group, that over time learn of your nuances, internalise them and accept you for who you are. Sometimes they celebrate you.

For others, it's a lot deeper. It's those one or three people who know everything. Everything there is to know. They transcend family and become an inseparable part of you. Your hip, arm, heart, lung...

No, I don't have that with anyone.

For another set, it's people who make them laugh, shout, dance, have a good time.

For some more, it's the people who are at your door even if it's 3 a.m. and you just wanted to cry about that crappy date or horrible interview or worse, a break-up.

For me, I think friendship is a place where I can pick up from where I left off, even if there are 5 years between us. Not age, but time.

I have that with , Goomphy, Abe, Brother Bear, Absolut, Twister sister, Sandy, SKfan, Boukheir and V (holler out to the online buddy).

There are no judgements, no questions. Just a quick hello and straight to business. No frequent updates on email, or incessent (ILU ILU) phonecalls. No mush. No explanations. I don't know if they'd be at my door at 3:00 a.m. I don't know if they'd qualify as that missing organ, I don't know if they care whether I win or lose.

All I know, is when we meet or speak or chat or call - it could be years, months, days or hours but it is just like nothing happened since we last met. Nothing existed since that last ding!

We don't care about what we've achieved, we don't care about what we've not achieved. Well, I don't, so I can say that for sure. In my heart I know I speak for the lot of them. We're aware of our milestones, and a nod and grin speaks volumes between the lot of us. They celebrate your victory if you want to, though. Any excuse to share good vibes. Yeah, sure! Of course.

I do believe we care about each other very much, in an extremely twisted way. When we meet or communicate, it's always reminiscing about something that happened and defined us as people or creating an experience that we can add to the collection.

To most, in fact, anyone that have witnessed these episodes (lingo - epidose!), nothing out of the ordinary happens. In fact to most, it could easily be labelled boring. But magical things happen, you know. Things that even the said participants don't see, until we meet again and dredge it up. That's when our eyes widen and we know that we will never be the same since.

Like wine. Good wine.

Y'see anyone can be a part of this experience, and most of the times there are a few; we remember. But like catalysts, they remain the same, no change whatsoever. But then the effervescence they add - ooh boy! I would like to officially thank the 'bystanders' immensely. You just don't know what you've helped along. Visionaries the lot of you! Lol.

So...do I have friends? Haha! No I don't. But, I have experiencers.

And that for me is a reality, I will thank my good fortune - for - better or worse.

2009-10-14T16:35:00.002+04:00

We were supposed to have a meeting this evening. It's 36 minutes past the assigned time. No one bloody cares, really. Because time here, isn't as valuable as the notes that one makes at the end of the month.

My time has been desecrated ever since I decided to live and work here. My skills and talents to plug holes that others don't have time or interest to fix. If anyone wants to know where to get that small item they require, or need a spelling or an extension number of fellow colleague - who ya gonna call? Moi.

I seem to know everything and yet nothing seems to fall in place. For me. I feel like I'm welling up with possibilities and like a helium balloon that catches someone's fancy for that one moment in time, I'm then let out into the open or left in a room to rot, until the very thing I was given attention for suddenly pales and is now no longer relevant.

It seeps out slowly, in whispers. And then slowly from that amazing height, I float down, bit by bit, until I'm crumpled in the corner and then crushed into a bin.

Self-pity.

My father told me it was the one thing that could destroy a person without even trying. So what do I call this reality?

I had ambition once, a vision that would help change the people and the sector I worked in. I was then introduced to the real world and the real corporate. It doesn't matter who or where you are. Unless you're at the source, can play politics and dress sexy - no one really cares who you are.

You can have all the talent, integrity, ideas and ability, but if you can't pander or play a little 'go seek' - no one's interested.

I fancied a swank office once; I'm sitting in one that can be. I fancied a great strategic job once, I've got one that could have been, I fancied the cover of a magazine once, but after seeing the lengths of compromise I have to make to get there, I can no say I don't want to anymore.

Because I can't smile long enough to make it look real. I can't engage in banal exchange long enough to make it look like it matters, I can't get along with people that really just need a kick up their behinds for their self-involved idiocy. I've tried and I fail so miserably, because even the uninitiated knows that I'm faking.

They all know. And they feel sad for me. That's all I get for showing them the truth. Sadness. Pity. And a little self-indulged pat on the back.

I believe being different beams you up to planet lonely. Where you get your own country and a flag. Only to realise that's a snow globe that everyone shakes when they feel bored so that they can watch the flakes fall around you. Double meaning intended.

Just a little bit longer.

Just a little bit.

Just a little.

Just.

It doesn't exist anymore.

This one's for A...

2009-07-12T21:18:00.003+04:00

This one's for A.

On 9th July A got married. On the cusp of what would have been an outstanding view of the Valley of Fire in Vegas no less - four people have stood witness to a union that I for one thought was a long one coming. Only because A is so much like me. And yet emanates such a fiery difference that make twins similar yet extraordinary.

I'd like to congratulate the other A...goon on ya mate! He who had the quiet sense to kneel in a terminal of an airport and quietly state his case. Of love.

This is a toast in prose. The picture as promised will be emailed to you ;)!

I hope you find each other amusing and interesting when the sparkle of intimacy fades and is replaced by a thick feeling or familiarity. You both feel it - how fast or slow, I cannot tell. But feel you will.

I pray that the heavens grant you a wicked sense of humour in those times. For it is the best of laughs you could ever have.

I imagine the 'Valley of Fire' to be a blaze of red gold down below you; signifying the fire of purity that so often remains the centrepiece in our Indian weddings. Fire in so many forms fills our places of worship - at times to spread fragrance and blessing and in others to drive away evil.

I hope the pastor remembered to crack a couple of jokes when he pronounced you man and wife. And I hope to God, that the photographer solemnly stood in silence for just that one minute before he started to click away.

I hope that that one moment of silence was blessed and your eyes met with your partners in deep understanding of the next connecting flights, transit runs and a possible rendezvous in between . Ha ha ha.

To you both, we raise our glasses (we have cool wine goblets by the way!) wishing you nothing but happiness and good times. But most importantly the honesty to have a good fight and a skinny dip afterward...:)

And hey, congratulations 'John Lennon' - all you need is love. ;).

2009-05-07T13:46:00.000+04:00

Open my minds eye so I may see and feel Your shinning light presence close to me.
Give me inner strength for my stumbling feet as I battle the crowd on life's busy street.
And widen the vision of my unseeing minds eye so in passing faces I'll recognize not just a stranger, unloved, and unknown, but a friend with a heart and soul that is much like my own.

- Ruth Ann Mahaffey

A Ear with Sucker Attached

2009-03-30T18:21:00.002+04:00

You never know with advice. It's a double edged sword really. For instance, the very same people who ask you for it, tend to act as if they don't need it when you're in the thick of it - right in the middle - just getting warmed up and hitting close to home.

Advice, is such an overrated adjective for opinion. It asks you for it and then some. If you're one of those people who get asked for your opinion a lot (and of course they say, it matters) then remember this - you'll feel very light headed and drained if you're putting your heart and soul into it for the same group of people who 'hear' you but don't 'heed'.

I recently have come to term this particular series of conversations I have with a long time friend as a 'series in insufferable'.

She calls, talks, vents and rants and then a few days, weeks or months later, we're on the same page. Only this time we've for more people she wants to talk about, more people she wants to blame, more people she's exasperated with, more situations that are unfair, more things that are not hers. The list, yes, it goes on.

It got me thinking this evening as I walked back from the store and I realised that I had over the past few months been dispensing a bit too much. I have officially had enough of waxing eloquent on things which should normally occur to most humans, my peers at least.

I'm sick and tired of hearing the diabetic prologue of how my thoughts would really help and then later realise that it really doesn't. Because all that's being sought is a ready ear, and a sucker attached to it.

So to my friend I'd like to say, I see through it now and realise how stupid I was to not see how desperately wise you wanted to sound and how 'zipped' I should have been. I don't think anything of what I said would make sense to your experience or life, because in spirit and form we are two different people.

So let's celebrate that and not discuss it anymore shall we?

2009-02-25T17:40:00.002+04:00

And so it begins
This new beginning
A life once thought was not worth living
A chance to recreate a start
A chance to actually play a part

In something better and beautiful.

I believed that every end meant sorrow
I chanced upon more stones to follow
Until once day I looked above
And saw an awakening of

A different perspective.

If I don't belong here
Then its somewhere else
A place that believes in bettering oneself
A purpose filled project or life
Emerges from every single strife

Climb up from bottom of the pit to the top of the heap.

Up. Up. And away.

2009-02-09T16:11:00.002+04:00

I ask you...

Would it really upset your apple cart to come to terms with my life and choices?

How would it feel to just be able to breathe without having an aneurysm? Why is it that every step I take or make interferes with your better judgement and enjoyment of the world?

Is it not enough that you had your chance to live? Must you then force your burdened ideology on others, especially me?

Why are you in so much pain; self-inflicted, hurtful and damaging. Will you never be happy?

Why do you blame your inability to move to the next phase of your life on everyone else but yourself? Does your serious infection of superiority complex have to be spread? Can you not go that particular 'it' alone?

Your every moan and whine spirals and sucks everyone around you into a vortex of irritation and anger. A frustrated state where we can't seem to believe we deserve to be ourselves. My rib cage hurts from just thinking about the impossible ways you inflict this disgusting wave of self-involvement.

I screamed into the screen yesterday; just trying to blot out the noise. Words without feeling, without sense, without purpose. ARGH!

Is there no space where we can meet? Is there no solution to this desolate situation? Will you not make peace with your suffering? Was there suffering in the first place?

Why does your dissatisfied sigh settle amongst our bones? Are your own bones weary and infused to the brim?

For every gift and privilege your claimed as your right; for every second of someone else's time you stake your claim to; for every intake of someone's breath you suck; for all those times you could have been happy.

I now say verily unto you that you have had your fill. And that my life is mine to recreate and gift to an unknown generation, to a promised land, to myself in healing.

Make peace with yourself. And us. It is a command. Not a request.

2009-02-01T14:53:00.004+04:00

- "Ever had that feeling?"

+ "What feeling?"

- "You know...the moment you own up and admit, you don't know where your headed"

+ "Everyone goes through that at some point, don't they? Tell me something new"

- "Something new...what's new is that one's willing to admit the feeling in all its
honesty and that its not a thought that comes at some point and leaves. It
arrives."

+ "And then what?"

- "Then...you either change the situation. Or you keep going in the same direction."

+ "I figured that much.."

- "..Here's what's new though...not everyone listens to the feeling."

+ "Is there anything else?"

- "Yeah."

+ "What?"

- "A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step."

+ "Tell me something new"

- "Not biting?"

+ "Nope"

- "Okay then."

2009-01-20T15:44:00.002+04:00

I hate the way I feel right now; like there's no hope.

The last time I felt this way, I stayed at home with copious notes and a book and didn't interact with fellow humans for two weeks. I think solitude to me is both a craving and a curse.

I work so hard at being social. So hard. And then it (the way I'm feeling now) hits me and all the slaving I've done goes to waste. Well, not entirely. In my defence, my slaving has seen the fruits of labour.

Those of you who know what I'm talking about; I'd like to thank you for sticking it out and letting me back in without so much as a question. Just a big welcome back sign. It means the world. Honest.

Last year, I had the opportunity to stay with my in-laws. We had several conversations, but the one that stands out most to me is the time when my mother-in-law and I discussed people's quirks. I am quirky. Period. I have enough quirks to go around.

She (my mother-in-law) teaches autistic children; she's in the business of understanding them and their disability and channelling positivity and expression through it. It's tough job, but she loves it and she's never been as passionate about anything as she is now. It's amazing how she channels such optimism in the face of such emotional challenges that these children experience everyday.

So when she said, "you know, in a way I think we all are autistic to some degree,"; I had to agree with her. Because it's true.

Autism is defined as:

1. Psychiatry. a pervasive developmental disorder of children, characterized by impaired communication, excessive rigidity, and emotional detachment.

2. a tendency to view life in terms of one's own needs and desires.

Isn't that classically how we are too at times? The difference is that we have better control (and sometimes none, albeit socially tolerated) over these tendencies.

I wouldn't be lying if I said that I have felt autistic on several occasions. Misunderstood, hurt and completely incapable of reaching out to the other side. And yet comfortable with that solitude. Just at peace knowing that I don't have to talk or furnish explanations. When alone. That is.

Not everyone wants to listen to your problems. Not everyone needs to.

So why do I feel this way today? Reasons - aplenty. All reasonable to me. Which is why it's so hard to share, to explain.

I just feel this way; and that's the way it is. I'm going ride out this one. I hope I'll see you on the other side.

Dislike.

2009-01-01T10:31:00.003+04:00

It's not nice when you know someone doesn't like you. I'm sure we have our fair share of detractors. Silent loathers, who can't find a logical reason or good explanation to express why they can't seem to reach across that barrier and give it to you straight.

When it comes to our own person, we believe that in many ways there's not much that people cannot like about us. I guess it all boils down to chemistry, outlook and form. Some things just don't mix. Well.

I must admit that I too have my inexplicable repellers on when I meet some people. In my defense I can say that the people I have found hard to like or get along with are few and far between.

Maybe some can easily blame it on my upbringing. We're taught to stomach and swallow several bitter pills in life and ensure we have the most convincing smile in place when asked for a reaction.

But then we all have our limits. And growing up affords us a certain freedom of expression that our childhood doesn't.

This NY, that's my compelling thought. Dislike. And while most of us would think it slightly sour to start something promising off with. I look at it as a perspective that could help us all shape our approach to everything differently.

Dislike.

Think about it.

Several communities and countries lost so many of their own to dislike. Dislike is a misunderstanding. So many of us forge distances between us and many others due to dislike. Dislike impedes so many experiences that could change us. Dialogues that could probably help us see another side to things. For better or worse. Again that's another perspective. Another to be discussed. For another time.

I dislike many things you know. The list isn't long and endless. It's a few things. But their ambit can cover several permutations and combinations. Convenient eh? Heh.

If there was a resolution for me this 2009, it would be to get that list out and do some spring cleaning.

The more I dislike, the smaller my yard gets. And I don't like small yards.

Happy New Year.

Now that I'm married...

2008-11-22T15:34:00.003+04:00

Thought I'd share my little oath taking ceremony with the few who traverse this blog. :) Yup, I'm married now.

Insight

2008-10-08T15:44:00.005+04:00

Over the past couple of months or so; I've had the opportunity to discuss several aspects of self-evolution with a good friend.

'Work-in-progress' may sound very intelligent, but to be honest it doesn't even begin to scratch the surface.

But that's what we are - work.in.progress.

It all began over a buffet lunch; when the jokes made way for serious banter and I found myself wallowing deep in what we call self-induced mull. My friend being a total sport joined in enthusiastically.

So while one group cracked up on the live entertainment and stuff memories are made of. She and I started sharing our personal anecdotes directly inspired from a book we're both reading (A New Earth).

Don't be fooled by it's OTT promise; the text is extremely heavy with what one can only begin to describe as 'prepared and peppered with extreme know-how'. So much so that the premise is simple - either you're ready or you're not. There's no in between.

A key point from our discussion is how every single act or reaction in our lives draws deeply from roots we almost always overlook or take for granted. Some of the stuff we always think we were too young to handle permeate through to adulthood for example.

It was quite a revelation when during a phone call recently the point was further broken down for me; when she asked me a rhetoric. Do you feel as if there are certain people or situations that seem to repeat itself constantly in your life? I had to agree there were. Definitely.

You keep meeting these people in your life; and you think you know them from somewhere or they remind of someone. You wouldn't have met this person your whole life, but the feeling or situations that come attached seem so familiar.

Unresolved in your mind. Unresolved in your present.

I guess letting go is easier said that done. I mean where would one start for example? Where would I even begin to unravel those very thoughts that now confound me when I need to make a choice, decision or even a step.

Most of go through life basing so much on a random event, occurrence or thought. Sometimes it becomes the very foundation of what we build our lives on. How many of us are paralysed by a fear, supposition or opinion or idea.

We're consumed by its familiarity, thrive in its warm softness and then can't seem to dip our toes into anything remotely different.

We blame our random event, we blame it till the cows home. We identify ourselves with it, we live it everyday, we colour our decisions with it. We wallow in it. We draw boundaries with it. for ourselves.

In my own little cosmos, I'd ideally like to stop the repeating waves of debilitating .

Let's just say off late I've been feeling two things; confusion and over a few events; nothing to drastic but nevertheless, enough to keep me 'knit-browed'. The second being disappointment; the realisation of a few universal truths (much like Murphy's law) has not been really kind in it revelation.

So in this particular stew I languish, slurping up every possible wave of gravy that accosts me. Smacking it down wondering anyone will throw me a bread stick so I can get outta here and to something.

Apoall pinne kanaam. Salut.

My.First.Desert.Safari.

2008-10-04T13:42:00.002+04:00

Yeah. So...I went on this Safari and it was pretty intense. It's my first ever. Seeing that I've been here for 4 years, it's a shame I didn't do it earlier. But then everything has its time and place, don't it?

It was nice to have shared it with a few good people (I won't say men, because there were a fair share of women in that 4x4! You'll see what I mean.)

Here's a little excerpt from that experience in full Eastman colour. I had a really good time everyone. Thank you! Woohoo!

Random

2008-09-24T13:05:00.003+04:00

It's one of those days.

It's bleached almost; dry and very wispy. There's this drone in the background and a general sense of everything being a bit too bright.

I haven't written here or anywhere in awhile. I feel a sense of pent-up loss. Like I missed out on something.

There's a half filled stopped up bottle of water. That's all I drink / eat while I'm work. It's Ramadan; I'm giving lent an early practice. Mini. Shmaalll.

Funny thing is that I'm supposed to be going out to get a drink with people from work tonight. The chances of a 'Seville Row' (only two favs and SA waiter knows about this!) CANNOT happen. Absolutely fudging NOT.

Wow. THAT was some NIGHT. When they're few and far between the memories are seared. Like the grease from a steak on the grill.

Anyway. (Yeah, I'm changing the subject!)

I wonder what it feels like when you take steps that legitimises something that only holds meaning to your life alone. You know when you have to sign, stamp and legally do things to validate what really isn't anyone else's business.

Funny how our race operates. It's a mystery, all these rules with no beginning (or end!).

I'm picking up the rings at the end of the week methinks. Got 'em all shined and polished. Even ordered inscriptions. Pretty chuffed, in a very socially conditioned way.

No really! You should try it. It's fun. Feel a socially conditioned 'once-in-a lifetime' blimp in your emotional space. It's a one time thing (even if its conditioned).

You won't feel it after. It's that rare glimpse of a comet that won't pass you by again. Ever.

Well, in this lifetime anyway.

Anyway.

She says I'm not here. She's good.

Am I that bloody transparent? Do I not know the art of 'masquerade' well? I thought I had it pat. I feel empty.

We are the hollow men. The stuffed men.

That kind of empty. Even though I consciously walk in the moment, I feel as if the knowledge I now have has only further peeled back the veil that hides my emptiness.

WTF??!

I'm not thinking of the future. I ain't thinking of the past. I just experienced a 'now' blimp. So then WTF??!

8 gas tankers.

Seagulls noshing between oil wells.

More drone.

Sand, debris and bricks.

Dusty cars.

Dusty trees.

DRONE.

Golden waves. Black Asphalt.

Glinting mirrors. Worthless tarpaulin.

Empty parking spaces.

Empty.

Meaningless Reams

2008-08-26T11:49:00.002+04:00

And it is lost.
My poem.

Somewhere in depths of a cut and paste and short cut.

I tried to retrieve the little piece of inspiration
But it remains lost in the depths of chipwork.

Of wires and boards, with no feeling.
save one. of process.

I will now continue.
To create meaningless reams.
temporarily filling what is a hunger for self-satifying gloat.
to be wisps of smokes months later.
A ball of gas with no meaning.
meaningless reams.

I struggle within to understand a higher purpose.
And in that pain, I realise a truth
no one can understand your pain or suffering
it doesn't matter what you do.
You can shout it from the roof tops
and be swallowed by dust.

It will come to you.
As it did to me.
And then you will know.

Transitioning to DTV

2008-07-28T16:24:00.007+04:00

The website heralds the transition as the the most significant advancement of television technology since colour TV was introduced. It isn't the first time this is happening.

Several others have done it before, and with a dignified silence. But then the US isn't one of those countries that take any sort of transition (read change) very lightly. Every thing's historic, requires a coalition monitored website, has it's own nationally held poll and reports; 'carpe diem-ing' every single byte, bit and pixel claiming it's the 'man on the moon'.

Ah, aren't they sweet when they work themselves up to a frenzy?

Okay.

To be fair, it is an occasion. It's time to unwrap your HD ready gadgets, luv.

The buzz, discussions and information on the DTV transition have hotted up over the past few months. Step-by-step guides on how to make the switch, 720, 1080i, 1080p, zig zam zoo, pop goes the weasel and what details to look out for.

Converter boxes for those looking to stick to their analog boxes and cable company subscriptions for those looking to plug into the revolution albeit in lesser resolution.

For those of you who went ahead and bought those 'HDTV ready' windows to the world, what can I say, you're time has finally come? It's the grand ball of smoother and enhanced images.

Oh well, for those of you who'd like to ride the transition train, here are a few links you might find interesting and an easier 'ease' into the heavier stuff out there.

Enjoy:

HDTV 101

The Official DTV Transition Website

TV Predictions

Trends

Futurist - The need for sods to wake the fudge up.

2008-07-22T17:21:00.002+04:00

And so in my long drawn silence, I've been reading.

It's been extremely informative and down-right scary. Like for instance how despite strides of development, the very basic concepts of the blind leading the sighted continue.

Like how we still believe in handing over the power to the few who we still aren't completely convinced about. We believe we are convinced, mind you, but we're far from it.

It is in this chaotic and loony present tense that I tripped upon a few academic and online news posts about Futurists. The new radical thinkers who are pan-industry wizards of change.

I envy the blokes (both genders...both genders!)

I mean, here they are, travelling the world making schmucks sit up and listen. Or not.

All I care about is that they get to put 'fuelling change' on their bios.

How much of change am I fuelling? Am I doing anything to help change at all?

I maybe, and I probably don't know it yet, but then again, what exactly am I changing.

My job, in spirit is to alter perceptions and champion causes, efforts and everyday breathing for companies, people or services. Most enlightened souls wouldn't find it very inspirational work.

I have the ability to really downplay what I do. Let's just say with an informed mind there's always the down (read dark) sides to deal with.

But that's a whole different post.

So change...

I read up on a certain Mr. Rohit Talwar, Futurist and CEO of his Fuel for Change company called Future Forward, if I'm correct. There are a couple of versions circulating the Internet. I just went with the one I saw on the most recent interview.

A highly effective speaker and also a respected futurist, links on his work and associations led me to the PATA (Pacific Asia Travel Association) - say what? - CEO Challenge.

So what is the PATA CEO Challenge this year?

It was the first opportunity for the entire travel and tourism industry in Asia Pacific to agree to practical solutions to confront climate change. Tourism

Ah yes, the much debated, advertised, spoken about, championed, lampooned, celebrated theme the past few years.

I'd like to share the Facilitator's Blog by Anna Pollock and Rohit Talwar for you to read.

If none of you ever get to the website or read up on the facts (no surprise or hate coming your way - promise!), here's a section of Anna Pollock's post entitled 'On Seeing Red' you might find interesting:

"...It’s relevant to our Challenge (of saving our planet), not just because the majority of commercial actors and influencers consider climate change a risk and an opportunity but because tourism and aviation are identified as two of six sectors in the red danger zone – not just because the relatively high risk of damage but because the level of preparedness is considered relatively low and negative effects likely underestimated..."

So what are the the other four you ask? Health care, Transport, the Financial sector and Oil & Gas.

You're off-setting your carbon miles are you? Well, blimey, cor and accha to you! Seriously, it isn't enough that we just take up the next highly publicised half-solution and then sleep at night.

There is technology and you can make up the difference on emissions through carbon offsets...BUT...as Rohit Talwar right points out -

"Saying ‘I'm going to emit so much carbon a year and then put money into a project that has a 20 year life cycle', so I'm pumping it out now and not getting it back for 20 years. It's not quite right.

People say that they've got zero emissions because they've offset, they haven't. Typically if somebody offsets over a 10 or 20 year project then they are only really offsetting 10% a year or 5%.

The planet's going to go through a natural cooling cycle over the next 10 years and that will mask some of the impact of climate change. Pressure will come off, because people will see that the temperature is not going up.

Then what will happen is we'll have a big spike at the other end and by then it will be too late, because the damage will have been done so severely over the next 10 years. It's a major challenge."

So, when you click on something, please think before you do and click on something that makes sense to the amount you're ripping from the planet.

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

- Full and free public access to PATA CEO Challenge 2008: Confronting Climate Change proceedings is available right here!

- Rohit Talwar's interview on tourism / aviation waking up to the realities of climate change, but is enough being done? can be viewed here - Fast Future Ventures CEO Rohit Talwar about how to achieve sustainability.

Bleep

2008-07-08T09:53:00.003+04:00

The device 'Generic Volume' cannot be stopped right now. Try stopping the device later.

Yeah, just you try.

.

Dinner in a Cup - Sup deep.

2008-07-07T18:02:00.001+04:00

Ladies and Gentlemen,

Will the real jamuns please stand up?

I mean c'mon, after eons of research, cultural overhaul and excessive development (averaging 8 per cent even!) we're still stuck in a limbo where we can't tell our enemies from ourselves.

Springin, rockin, breakin, shakin
We're the foundation of what we're makin
Every single coin, bill or quake
Shimmy and shake...keepin you awake

Breakthrough, chemicals, technical clause
Every contract has a probable cause
Brikbats of the future
Hammin' it with sutures
No matter the wisdom, we always need a tutor.
Mind controller.

Frankenstienic, melodramatic, futuretastic
Dinner in a cup, drink on a plate.
Whichever way you look at it, we're always late.
Switch it around, mash it up
Whichever way you look at it...

The future's f*"£$ed up.

29

2008-06-17T15:25:00.002+04:00

Turning a year older is bad enough; but when you have a lot of insight and nothing to show for it...I think you got it.

I've had the good fortune of being able to learn so much from every flop or success (my personal rating) and yet, implementation of this hard earned flashes of wisdom continue to elude me.

OR is that really the case?

I've been bombarded with quite few signs of impending change. Imagine a tube of light with something stuck in the middle of it. The tube's half lit, the blockage isn't allowing the light to travel straight through.

That's pretty much where I am right now.

The blockage is my inability to gain clarity on what I need to do to get out of my current situation. The situation is not a challenge, a problem or a solution. It's a just self inflicted short-sighted wound. I haven't stopped slapping my forehead for awhile.

To be honest, I'm not beating myself up too much; to err is human. And I have learnt from all of my mistakes. So this time around, rushed optimism, (being a realist) is forgiveable don't you think?

Yes it is another excuse. To be forgiven, to be overlooked, to be blatantly unsuccessful in taking that much needed step to become.

Sigh.

F$%^.

...

I have a lot to be thankful for by the way. And so in this post; I'd like to thank the people who make a difference in my life, the one who changed everything for me, and the others who I am yet to meet and quite looking forward to bonding with.

I'd like to thank the conversations I've had with people; their personalities miraculously absent from the inspiring messages that poured forth; like they were possessed by energy - portals for a higher message - meant for my ears alone.

My hair for consistently enduring the horrible water and stress that is now synonymous with this here place I'm in.

My faith. It evolves along with me and beautifully so. Thank you God - for your humour, ability to customise and let's not forget - know-how.

My family for the distant and yet not so distant - love, advice, hope, humour, high fives, jokes and goss. Yes, thank you for the goss. For giving it to me.

For hope. It truly never dies.

Yeah. Peace out.

4 days. One good thing.

2008-03-24T16:39:00.003+04:00

Good things come to those who wait.
I waited, cringed, prayed and then gave up.

A good thing came by patted my hand and said, "let's go"
And I did.
I'm not ever letting go.

Here's to a good thing.
Here's to you.

Whacking Insight

2008-03-16T17:31:00.005+04:00

So here we are.

It's not much if you give it thought; a job is job and your place in history can either be an inconspicuous cog or a large wheel that everyone tends to look at when marvelling at the mechanism that is life. No one sees the small cog. We all know its there, but we just don't (don't want to) see it.

We all tend to want to be the large wheel. We all do. Being the small wheel is hard enough. But the large wheel looks so bloody massive (hence impressive) that we just can't get past it. We always want more.

There are some, however, who look at themselves more realistically and wisely accept the fact that no matter how hard they (we) try and pouf things up - we're the small cog with a big role and no big benefits.

Crap.

Well, apart from that self-flagellating thought...i now release de ja vu has the ability to impart a certain soothing balm to what can be harrowing realisation of where each of us stand in our cruel measurement for success. That is within the mechanism, within the wonderment that is the wheel in the cage.

I had an attack of de ja vu - during lunch. Yes, today.

It was a strong and definitive beam that cut through the mundane thoughts that were swimming in my head. I didn't need the coffee. That would have been outright trippy. Man....

In my de ja vu, my small cog theory presented itself in a 'i've been here before' picture show that calmed, yet excited me. Because this piece of 'vu' i saw, spins on somewhere into the future and my small cog theory transforms into very BIG.

I am somewhere in the midst of clearing some more clutter from my path and taking another step up into my mind's insight and realising where else i need to cut the fat.
This is good. Very good.

I'm excited. Because with this realisation, also comes the fulfulling thought that there are a few things i do not need to do, prove or excel in. Which brings me that much closer to what i should be doing, proving and exceling in.

Life as it were is presenting a stronger impulse - like a homing device that starts bleeping faintly and then more furiously as you get closer. I'm getting very faint bleeps now. Which is bloody top notch, considering I had zip for the past few years.

Nice.

Meeting with my Ego

2008-03-12T14:36:00.002+04:00

The last couple of weeks have been very edgy for me. I guess the changes that are occuring represent a more deeper shift inside. And the battle inside, has taken its toll really.

I have always had the ability to compartmentalise my trauma. When i'm at work, for instance, there is an inherent silence from my dark corners, yet it is alive. It waits for me to finish my regular dose of normalcy before it emerges, frothing at the mouth, eager for a grapple.

I have met my ego.

To tell you the truth, it feels like rape.

A fleeting, momentary bump that left me bruised and violated. Words cannot express how shocked and disappointed I was. For all these years my ego has defined every single step of what I have felt, identified, collated, understood and acheived (one cannot call it achievement anymore).

I look at things, i label them, i process thoughts and make assumptions. Those assumptions in turn lead me to larger classifications and then those very classfications define and place boundaries on every experience, possibility and opportunity that presents itself.

I have just emerged from what could have been a catastrophic mind set. the persons involved would have turned a brilliant sheen of foe and the situation a bitter taste.

What i refused to look beyond was my ego. Such is the largesse of it's vision.

I have due to divine intervention and rock like support been able to look at present situations through a slightly more tolerant lens and i personally can now vouch that something different and possibly exciting could be the result.

Unfortunately, this could mean saying goodbye to a holiday i so looked forward to, strategically avoidng unwarranted prosecution from an egoistic maniac (i feel sorry for you), and letting time deliver bigger and better dividends (the only way is up).

A good friend wrote in this afternoon saying - "Fear is usually the only barrier. And fear is usually the most unnecessary barrier. It takes a little work and focus, but we can all make it if we truly believe we can."

When i met my ego, it projected the exact same thing fear. It brought out all of its worst and manifested it to the best glory level it could. My ego by far has crippled me with people, crippled me in my experiences, and not allowed me to be myself.

I'd like to meet with my true self and set it free. From how I see it, the prison it sits in is my own doing. And my ego stands as a testement to it.

I'd like to shake hands with my ego. But this time i'm saying goodbye.

2008

2008-01-29T15:05:00.000+04:00

My annual vacation turned out to be an eye-opener of sorts. I say 'of sorts' because the variety of ways my eyes were opened, pale in comparison to last year. :)

Sad. I know. However, i choose to stick to this ironic poke at humour because i am resolved to look at things differently, with a lighter air. Verily I say unto you - it takes bloody effort.

I had candid conversations with my parents (don't we all), witnessed the tragic downfall of family, saw the union of two new ones, and managed to extricate myself from both tricky situations that only annual reunions can conjure within a span of fifteen minutes.

It is with a heavy yet happy heart that i inform you that close people are now strangers and people from far are now familiar. It this precarious balance that i most enjoy; other examples include the universe.

Candid conversations helped open several cans of worms, which i spliced, forked and cut into tiny little bits. There was a lot of jus. Yes both.

I came away from my experience,thoroughly roughed up, scratched and smarting. However, my eyes were shining from the revelation. I looked like a crazy prophet with news only i could rejoice and sorrow with.

Everyone else looked worried. Including the co-passengers on the flight back home. Business class loyals will be pleased to note i ditched in-flight entertainment and slept. Deep. I did wake up for nosh. Terribly sorry.

My mother refuses to speak to ME. I say this not because she won't speak. She just won't speak to the ME. She refuses to acknowledge that i no longer exist as her child but as a woman who once was her daughter.

Titles remain, persons do not.

I believe i will forever be a little girl to my mother. As my child will always remain mine. Even when s/he goes on to write his/her own destiny. Chemical bonding is complex, and therefore i won't grudge her her indulgence.

My father is still profound. I believe i would have loved him less, if he weren't... That is excessive. I love him without borders. But. I do love that he is profound.

And in his profoundness, he accepted the news from my life, he solemnly listened and nodded into emptiness, contemplating everything i said. To be fair, all of my propositions were tinged with emotion.

And his profoundness tinged with trepidation. Believe me - being a profound, thinking mallu (malayalee to the unitiated) man is a challenge. My father, isn't one to back down...but he isn't one to NOT acknowledge that trouble is afoot either.

With this knowledge, he proceeded to explain his take on the matter, and we both decided that it would be best to proceed without indulging into a search for a happy round of applause but stopping to take pride that an independent decision had been taken.

The agenda of course thereafter was to swiftly move on. And get with it. Any sort of selling oneself short hereafter would not be tolerated or forgiven.

At this point you may ask me what exactly the announcement was. Well, it is a pastiche of both serious and frivolous. One was that i was now to foray into the world that i have begun to operate in independently and choose my own partner and the other was that i am quite close to closing the deal.

It was not met with enthusiastic response from my mother. Everyone who knows my good mother can only paint a partial (but colourful) juxtapose of her constitution, should news of such outright callousness be shared.

Such is the magnitude of the one and only Emily Sarah Abraham. Grand innit?

Oh she's grand - she defines the word and more. To the point where i am silently in awe. And yet i cringe, for i can never ever find my self asipring to be what she is.

I have far grander aspirations...it's the genes...what can i say?

Coming back to the matter at hand. I have finally managed to communicate a semblance of my plans. I have also, in my own way of trickling information, let others know.

But i have not really taken it upon myself to announce anything. You may ask why.

The pure reason that drives that decision is a simple belief that i am presently in the throes of what one can call...hmmm...self reflection. I believe my proposed significant other is also in this present point. And we both in our reverie(s) are allowing our close circles to stew uncomfortably in the very same situation.

It isn't simple. The statement of it, may very well be. But in no way, is this current situation any less baffling than the eternal mystery that is choice. Each turn presents itself with a cause and effect.

Eliot (TS) got right. It is a cocktail party.

We are not at a fork. We are at a gyre. Shite.

It is the contemplation of the endless spiralling that we are presently stopped at. The journey, no doubt, will have to continue.

I wait with bated breath and a feeling of unbelievable high - i tend to be crazily happy before such a situation that is few and far in between. And therefore the relish.

You do agree?

I close with a promise of more. Until then...I wish you a good 2008.

Serious topics...hmmm....

2007-10-14T20:24:00.003+04:00

I got this message from a good person on Orkut, she said i should probably start blogging on things that matter apart from the things that take place in my life.

Well, i haven't really come across things that really matter here. Unfortunately for me, my life is pretty much about myself and the few people i know.

It shouldn't be that way, i should have something more to offer, to be honest, the person said good things about how say things in print. And this is a heartfelt thank you.

I'm going to have to get off my butt and go search for this meaningful topic, topics, yeah...topics.

For starters, and i know this is personal - i'm now on FB and i do believe it has its fair share of similarities to the million other social networking sites, but then popular vote has most of my friends and acquaintances on it too, so then FB is where everyone is for now.

It can be a tiring past time, but on a given day when you have nothing much to do but lounge, then it can be good past time.

This pretty much sums up how completely wasted i have been over the past few days.

But i did have a kicking time at Ron and Mel's last evening, stayed up till 2:00 a.m. discussing two people who could be 'Heroes' - :) hahahhahaa!

Nuff said...

Losing a bet. But winning something bigger.

2007-10-12T20:54:00.000+04:00

So here's the thing, several yeas ago at my mom's dining table, i made a bet for 500 bucks with Neil Eapen that i would get my own pad (with airconditioning, mind you!) and the whole works. Nothing fancy. But something that took care of the basics.

I said i'd do it by 25. I got what i said i would when i turned 27. Missed it by two years. I lost the bet - but i won a whole lot more. Yes, i got air conditioning. Every single last thing on that list. It isn't much if you compare it to the things people are doing int he world today.

People have given up thier lives for causes, some continue to amaze the world with their ability to look beyond boundaries. Others, well...i ain't one to judge or be the last word on anything...but still...they're rockin'.

I'd like to take a page out of that. Tear it up and put it in my pocket. Keep it there so that anytime i'm stuck for inspiration, its crunch and touch will let me know - that i'm not the only one.

I've got this irresisitible pull for something larger, for something deeper. I fight ordinariness everyday, and in a few special people, i cherish that i...we can change it and make it unique - apart - y'know?

I won't let that go. I'm taking it with me and making it mine, ours. Something worth being different for.

I always thought in some funny way, that that bet was the only real thing i had going for awhile. I went through some pretty confusing shit..., but in the end...i had that bet keeping me going.

Neil, if you ever read this, i'd like you to know. It's been worth the 500 bro. Every single paise (the bet was made in Indian currency back in the day).

I got my own pad. It's not permanant. But its mine. : )

Moving on to bigger things now...

Salut!

The Five (of many) Philosophies of Life

2007-07-11T13:23:00.000+04:00

The Five (of many) Philosophies of life. We come across these maxims everyday. Opportunities to exercise a difference. To be different. However, at the speed at which we fly, there’s just no time to really sit and think about them. I recently (yesterday) realised how important the first philosophy is to me.

[Oh by the way, if you're wondering where the philosophies are, i've included them below, only because i wanted you to read what i thought about it first...just...]

When I read the second I realised that it made sense. I didn’t cry when my grandfather died, I had my reasons, one of them was that I didn’t know him well enough and the other is he didn’t want us to know him well either. I was cool with that. Like I said. I have my reasons. I didn’t cry when good friends turned bad, I didn’t cry when something I thought special – disappeared.

The third is kind of hard, but not impossible. It makes you feel weak and wimp-like, but in reality you’re anything but that. So if any of you have and are successfully practicing Philosophy number 3, I think that’s a good thing. Philosophy number 4. It’s hard to accept sometimes, but it’s true. The only true happiness we can receive is when we search for the emptiness we have inside and fill it. The lines can blur so many times…but then stick to it, yeah? I know I’ve bruised myself enough, but then before I can successfully lapse into a jaded defeat I immediately bulk up on something I’d like to call a reality check and know in my heart I’m better off than more people I’ll ever know.

Philosophy number 5. Kinda ties in with 4 don’t you think? It balances that sense of loss or self imposed isolation we tend to associate it with it. I’d like to share mine in every way possible.

[Imagine a bard standing on pedestal of some kind loudly announcing these theatrically, with aplomb. With conviction.]

I - "DON'T LET SOMEONE BECOME A PRIORITY IN YOUR LIFE...WHEN YOU ARE JUST AN OPTION FOR THEM....."

II - NEVER CRY FOR ANY RELATION IN LIFE BECAUSE FOR THE ONE WHOM YOU CRY DOES NOT DESERVE YOUR TEARS AND THE ONE WHO DESERVES WILL NEVER LET YOU CRY.........

III - TREAT EVERYONE WITH POLITENESS EVEN THOSE WHO ARE RUDE TO YOU, NOT BECAUSE THEY ARE NOT NICE BUT BECAUSE YOU ARE NICE........

IV - NEVER SEARCH YOUR HAPPINESS IN OTHERS WHICH WILL MAKE YOU FEEL ALONE, RATHER SEARCH IT IN YOURSELF YOU WILL FEEL HAPPY EVEN IF YOU ARE LEFT ALONE.......

And V - HAPPINESS ALWAYS LOOKS SMALL WHEN WE HOLD IT IN OUR HANDS. BUT WHEN WE LEARN TO SHARE IT, WE REALIZE HOW BIG AND PRECIOUS IT IS!

Dancing with the Sun

2007-03-14T17:15:00.000+04:00

Yup. I've migrated officially to the new blogger.

Honestly, it's been awhile, yeah? Apologies to the select few who actually take the time to make it here to read what i have to say. I don't say much really, it's more of a compilation of what i feel and somewhere at the end a reasoning for all of it.

For there is so much to be said and done in our lives. This is just...well...a place we can just type and deliciously enough...be heard by many.

Anyway, i met up with a friend who happens to visit this blog once in awhile with voddy in hand and slow stewing of mind - a nice way to enjoy this space. Since i haven't been on the blogosphere for awhile, he asked me where i was hiding

I had to smile, cause honestly i don't have a valid excuse. I just decided that i would take a break, but the break really came to me, i didn't go looking for it. :)

I wasn't really looking to suddenly be in a chair where i could relax and really breathe for awhile. Respite is short lived, we all know that by now. We're all grown up.

Love is a funny thing, it can make you forget yourself. So deep is the journey that we seldom look up to see if we've still got enough rope to pull us out, should the darkness get to you. Y'see the reason why we forget we ever need rope is that this tunnel is interspersed with light...like convinient pit stops. Just when you're beginning to get scared - boop! You hit a spot of light and then you relax.

It's been over 2 years since my last relationship. I have tried to understand it; and i think to myself that i'm doing a good job of analysing it, simply because i trust that two years alone after that whirwind would make me see things differently. Well, in a way i do. See things differently. I am much more calmer and thnkafully know what i would or would not like in a man.

Is that one step closer to everything i want? Well, it depends on whether i'm evolving and whether what i want can evolve with me. Can he evolve with me?

This diatribe sounds selfish doesn't it? I mean it's all about me. And i ask, why shouldn't it be about me? Why should love always have this over-the-top self sacrificial tone where you're always spouting about what the other person wants.

You can only give if you're getting something. right? Love is a two-way thing. It is something we endlessly feel and aspire to perfect, but as finite beings we are also looking to see if there's something in it for us.

It could be as simple as companionship, or someone to hold on to. There's a lot of give - make no mistake. I mean if you're planning to sit on your high horse and say, "i'm well worth the effort, hon". Well, so is the other person. You wouldn't be seeing him or her if they didn't mean something or weren't worth the effort.

Anyway, this season of love i have witnessed have many friends and old aquantainces gearing up to walk down aisles, sign registers or just plain pledge their committments.

Mel and Ron, i hope you're life together (from the Thursday of your choice! wink!) is an insightful and rewarding exchange of personality, smiles, good times and togetherness.

J & D (you know who you are!) I hope that the steps you're taking together toward a lasting and committed relationship is built on mutual trust, respect, time and fun. Lots of fun ;)!

And as for me, i'd like to invite the Sun to dance with me, the kind of dance that's slow, fast, trippy and downright mad - the kind of dance you've got to keep tapping to. The kind of dance i love.

The Vibes People Play

2007-01-16T17:01:00.000+04:00

Dear Everyone,

I had a fairly eventful month or two and results have been staggering. Emotionally that is. I do believe a breakthrough has been made and in it a very wise understanding of where i stand in it. I smile as i type this, because it is yet another chapter in my life that brought me closer to a deeper understanding of myself and what i'm capable of.

Its not all roses though...

Discovering also has a lot mending, rewinding, new painful or pleasure filled discovery that doesn't make it a (let's just say) walk in the park.

But nevertheless such journeys are what sterner stuff is made of. And sterner stuff is what we all need. My penchant for the dark. What can i say? Hey.

So it is from one of these discoveries that i emerged early this morning to find that my pleasured self emanated a distinct hue and atmosphere that unsettled my fine colleagues around me.

The vibes were clearly signalled and because of its deep nature silence was the chosen tool.

The vibes were of awe, jealousy, remoteness, stares, resentment, of being intimiated, of smarting...

What followed were acts of self-preservation. Desperate acts of preservation. :)

There were reassuring calls being made to better halfs, chit-chats of the insulting kind...smirks that were so insecure...I had to laugh. It felt good to awe-ed at blatantly. Obviously living a little around here takes some guts, and making a little takes some adventure.

Hmmmmm....so, what do you call a drunken sailor earl-i in the morning?

Ooooh...i could get used to this.

Time Flies when the Path Twists Unexpectedly

2007-01-08T15:20:00.000+04:00

Don't you hate it when that happens?

I never really had the privilege like the few I term 'blessed' to know where exactly I was headed until a few months (almost a year, but not quite) ago. It takes a lot of gut (and I mean a lot) if you aren't from the genre of the former 'blessed' category to actually acknowledge it and make a run for the unexpected, new and unfamiliar with a vague notion that the only thing that's driving you there is passion.

It's a tricky word this passion. It's fuelled by so many other aspects from your core. Impulse, worry, energy, intensity, love, hate, danger...

My passion latently snuggled under tonnes of insecurity blankets, jostling to get out. I do believe it has made its way past all of them. Cause I honestly am rearing to go.

My elation knew no bounds when my passion ran out into the clear and soaked in long missed sunshine and I suddenly had a clearer vision of where I needed to go...Passion had run along ahead of me and was pointing excitedly to the path, I had walked alongside for quite awhile.

So now, I'm on this path. Now, the things passion isn't prepared for and doesn't see coming are the curve balls that time throws at you. Whoo! Boy, do they hurt! However, I must admit that it's easily internalised simply because you now know you're on your way to something. It's scary, don't get me wrong. There are lot of fears you must face. Your passion has no fear. Your spatial skills and sense of reality do. It's a potent blend of elation, excitement, fright and disbelief (that you're actually doing this, that you've come this far AND that you're ACTUALLY going to DO this!).

I've been thrown 3 curve balls as of the 8th of January 2007. One is extremely interesting. The others are...well...let's just say manageable. You have a problem when the curve ball is interesting, because the natural urge to duck and slam it out of the way is quashed almost immediately. You're now standing and looking at this situation with a amusing, quizzical expression on your face. You don't know where this going, but you still want to find out anyway. You know?

But passion has it's ways of drawing you back...to remind where you are headed - and that it wasn't easy to have found it in the first place. A wise man once said that, "there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy'. I humbly accept that.

Right now I'm taking tentative steps forward, I've got this problem of backward glancing (I'm working on this as we speak and I have to say I've made progress), which I hope to channel into a more efficient trait. Going down memory lane is one thing. Spaz-ing out at the moment I'm supposed to be grabbing every opportunity is another.

:) Oh fear not! Honestly, I'm fine. Passion and I talk about it, we balance it and figure out where I need to cut the fat, and sometimes, it sits down munches on something and says it'll wait. But not too long, y'know?

Passion passes...like time it waits for no one. It's your business to keep up. Anything or anyone that can't...well...I gotta run!

Better Work Trends, Creativity and Dangrous Borderlines - Part II

2007-01-06T09:52:00.000+04:00

What is a better work trend? Is it something that idly hammocks in our mind, swinging from one pole to the other trying to work its way into our outer recesses, infuse itself into speech and reasoning power. Does better work trends translate into comfort zones, rec rooms and uni-sex toilets? I don't know really. For in a socially led world like hours 'better work trends' could mean a million things to a few people.

I say few, because they're the ones who essentially make the rules, write out the charter and Bcc it the entire organisation.

We've been reading in recent news, white papers and conglomerate spiel that flexible working is on the upswing. Several top global companies are pushing technology to deliver more than just e-mail, conference calls and video sat links. I'd personally like to say Hallejuiah.

The term itself is so endearing, no? Flexible - makes so much more room for air, time, constructive input/output, feedback. I say this because time management in burgeoning cities not only include timesheets, but traffic, personal lives, rest, per sqm of work space used in an office and other such wonderful elements that could make or break a balance sheet in a financial year.

So how many of you actually put in enough work to pay off the desk space you use? Rent is calculated you know. Oh, and how many of you earn it back or are paid enough for churning out more than a bang for the buck? Ironically the latter question you ask yourself, awaits an answer from someone else and the former question you spit out into the atmosphere has your name on it.

heh.heh.

So, would you be comfrotable with a flexible working option? Would you be able to effectively deliver sitting from the convinience of your home? Are you up to working remotely? Strong debates do tend to crop up (i mean taking sides is an inborn trait of ours and then of course the new millenia coughed up a third which is 'non-committal' - a wonderful gift).

I for one am FOR flexible working. I like the idea of managing my own time, i like the idea of delivering real time and managing my laundry together. I like the option of mobile interfacing than working with a lot of people who 'just need to get out home'. I like that it sieves out the chaff. It does. Any way you look at it, the possibilities of flexible working are immense.

And for the naysayers, I think it should be a choice. In Dubai, traffic is a cuss word. The moment everyone gets back from their vacations, emergency trips and other such offloading the city's roads groan as people with 2 - 3 cars per home vomit themselves unto the streets. What would be a half hour drive to work becomes a two hour nightmare, that saps you off all the good energy you could use at work.

By the time you get to work, some smug auntie is already trying to eat into what's left your sanity because she lives 5 minutes away and thinks she's smarter than you. Good morning sunshine!

;( - I can't WAIT to get started.

With no respectable public transport system anywhere near the horizon (talks of 2008 continue to do the rounds, with the money they have, it could happen...) the roads are choked.

Flexible working is an answer. But of course mentality is evasive. Everyone has this chip on their shoulder, they just don't see productive work happening when remotely done. Why? Because you're at home, or somewhere...remote. One could possibly NOT do any work right? WRONG.

Freelancers are by default remote workers. They're engaging in projects that take them time, effort and a lot of brainwork. Offices don't use up space, they charge a fee. And ta-da we're happy. A lot of consultants work remotely. Senior management most often than not work remotely. They're all about the strategy, see?

So who are the schmucks who need to come into work to make it look like a functioning organisation? You and me. We're the schmucks. We're the ones who have to bang out inane reports, useless statistics and feedback, make the unwanted telephone calls - basically things that go into the inane report that tells the client we deserve the fee we're charging. Right!

And we wait, and pray for the day we move up a notch, to a more 'stragtegic' posting, where things like flexibility, productivity, efficiency and ROI begins to take shape and suddenly make sense!

If anyone who's 'senior' happens to pass by this page - could you do me favour? Could you re-think for me? Flexible working could mean 3 day office job 3 day remote. It could mean one day away but contactable and 5 days fifty - fifty.

It could mean happier and more productive compared to pressurised, stumped, blinded, 'hands-tied-behind-ones-back', under-handed, snap-dragon(-ny). It could mean cost effective, time saving, better office management, lesser stress. Flexible.

Think about it.

2007

2007-01-04T19:19:00.000+04:00

Dear Everyone,

It's the start to the new year. I have to say that i had a more exciting start to 2007 than the past few. I invited a few freinds over to my little apartment and everyone fresh with wounds from work, life and love wept, danced and drank to forget the little that was left of 2006.

As i watched everyone from my favrouite spot in the house, the right-most single seater couch that sits closest to the television, I was happy that everyone had suddenly removed themselves of many a mask and were just who they were. Safe to say, that many a revelation was made.

Through it all, there was a silent acceptance of what had been laid open for everyone to see. And we danced. We all danced, to music, to sounds, to the beats in our head. We talked, we spilled, we mulled over wine and conversation.

People went for walks, others went to sleep, and the few who were left groggigly groping for what was left of the year slipped in and out of the old.

One of my friends asked me at a saner moment, to describe what 2006 had meant to me. Everyone wants to know what 06 meant to everyone. But the catch was that i say it in a single sentence that would only contain a comma and full stop.

I thought about it for a second and lot of what i had been through in the past year flashed before me and i have to admit that i was quite okay with what i saw. No real-deep regrets and the beauty is that you wouldn't change anything. Not one thing.

So i said, "2006, introduced me."

Happy New Year everyone. I love you very much.

Better Work Trends, Creativity and Dangrous Borderlines - Part I

2006-12-28T15:45:00.000+04:00

I just read about this Argentine theatrical group called De La Guarda that boasts of suspended acrobats plucking audience members off the ground and into the air. The show doesn't have seats, has you stading for the approx. 70 minute performance where the show literally falls from the sky. You're even forewarned that you just might get kissed, danced with, undressed, and even taken up into the sky for a ride.

How's that for spontaniety? No. Wrong question.

How's that for unexpected, creative juice that redefines entertainment?

What would you do, if you were one of the lucky people to get snatched and whooped into the air? Chances are there would be quite a few 'bears with sore heads' who'd be insulted, miffed, violated, pissed off for the sheer interactivity, the disregard for the boundaries we've created within ourselves.

It's a kind of separation from our inner core, our need to deny ourselves the few true feelings we all have. We're so wrapped up in everything we see around us. IT's so limiting!

Speaking of which, i had this conversation with a friend (in spurts and bouts) over the telephone. Now he tells me that he has a deadline and needs to deliver some top secret creative copy for the client. So, i be a good friend and i hang up and tell him, "okay, finish the work, meet the deadline and i'll call ya back, half hour, ciao."

And true to my word, i DO call back. And well...it isn't finished. And of course i must ask why. Isn't the creativity working, isn't it spontaneously combusting, what gives? And he says something came up in the middle and i had to finish that before i could work on this.

Hmmm....my De La Guarda analogy does have its use, okay? So, like i said this show just might get you wet (metaphysically, i don't know...it's personal, y'see)- you might have bucket of water dunked on ya, you might be rudely grabbed and flung into the air, but the trick is to decide right away whether you're going to be flung, hung and then wrung dry and shake your head in amazement at the end of the show.

Unfortunately for us we all don't work in a world like De La Guarda, but it is the spirit it embodies that makes it such a canktankerous addiction, the need for speed, craziness, shock and thrill. So, the deadline...

IT's about meeting it. It's about being able to pound those keys with incessent gobbledegook, until a design begins to appear from behind the screen. We are limited nevertheless in our interactions, personal boundaries and other such wonderful installations.

As i sit here, wondering (for my poor friend) how best one could meet the deadline without having to agonise over why i'm on the phone too much lately, or why my colleagues seem to notice a lot more of me because of my clear sense of reason, hought and fun - i suddenly duck down from the sky and wham! it hits me, it's about letting go.

Unclench your butt, relax, stop chewing on your lower lip, look up and lift up your hands, you just might get snatched (away from prying eyes, redundancy, lack of fresh air, corporate bull-shit, timelines of the mind, boundaries of the self, boundaries of the office, boundaries of key messages and brand guidelines) into a technicolour whirlpool of mad drums, music, screams and passion.

And you just might meet the deadline. And shake hands with it.

The Case of Rootless Blues

2006-12-26T17:41:00.000+04:00

Dear Everyone,

I had a reasonably productive day at work today. I managed to write out a few documents for a couple of clients, update some records, clear my desk of ye-old year stuff and junk desk-garbage. It was a satisfying day, really. However, i feel so...blech!

Which means that all that good stuff doesn't count or begin to balance out the horrible sense of waste i feel. Sigh...

Dusk has fallen and a visit from a good friend helped the few moments along. However I still feel BLECH! I downed 3 doppios with two packs of brown sugar, and i still have the ZING as it were coursing through my bloodsteam! It hasn't helped, except scare my friend with my hysterical take on the day and giggles for things i didn't really need to giggle about. Sigh...I wouldn't be surprised if he thought a little extra hard about my reaction today...

A lot could do with the fact that i walked in feeling post-Xmas blues...I had a quiet one this year by the way. How was yours? I hope it was/is swell. :). Another could be that i sprouted this tiny but noticeable zit somewhere around the vicinity of my chin and everyone had something 'cheeky' to say about it.

Y'know the usual - you're not getting enough, it's time you found someone and used the energy 'constructively'....that sort of thing (i'm rolling my eyes now! The stunted imagination around the sexiness of everything life has to offer...Sheesh!) But what has to be said is that I've got a clear case of the rootless blues.

Speaking of blues, i had the good fortune and honour to meet friends from Chennai and in a wonderful surprise re-union or sorts learned that good Ronnie and Melvin are together (when i met them they were seeing each other - they still are technically, only they're in it for the long haul ;))

Well, Melvin's cut an album with his band Hunger - an out and out blues infested piece of wonderful work, that i'll be writing about on the blog soon. Melvin, send me that artwork ASAP!

Well, i could ramble on about the smaller details of how horrible my day was, but in reality i have nicer things to look forward to...

Like the hour and half drive home; the good dance music radio station, the impending New Year break, the Xmas lights that i switch on in the evening, the warm shower and hundreds of books i treated myself to over the hols...:)

Yup.

Nice...

To those with faith, to those with insight and to everyone with love

2006-12-12T12:20:00.000+04:00

Before I post this, i'd like to apologise for my last post. I was out of sorts and well i just need a bone to pick on and wham! i got one. So Spew, if you ever pass by again, here's the thing - i meant the last few paragraphs of it, the other, well i dont' have an explanation. Honestly, there's a lot more to the man / woman spiel and i'll say it first, i don't know everything...but i'm enjoying the learning experience, yeah?

Anyway...what i got below is a e-mail i sent to a few people after an overload of 'forward this or you go to hell e-mails'...thought i migth share it.

____________________

I just got a slew of e-mails telling me how I don’t have time for the Lord. Well, and so it passes that we use myriad forwards about the Lord and think we've done our part of spreading a message, which I believe is just a way of satisfying our inner voices that we've done something, even if it meant sticking the letters J E S U S in the subject line and hitting send. The thickness of it continues to amaze me. How many of us have chosen the addresses we write to and actually managed to just type out something more personal that we have felt or experienced, including the trauma of being faithful and the bliss that comes for remaining the same - faithful.

I guess no one, including me have had the guts and then we say we aren't ashamed. We all are. Let's not deceive ourselves and think otherwise. Don't use a forward and please don't preach, it's easy to preach. It's harder to relate, personalise and practice. So the next time, you receive a forward using God as an engine to soothe our nagging consciences, do yourself a favour and write something that will help the other person open their eyes and not fall into the meaningless cycle of consequence ridden religious e-mails that may have the right heart behind it, but in no ways helps the person who opens it when they stuck for actual insight.

Do I believe anyone of you will forward this to anyone? I’m quite sure you won’t. It’s personal, and it’s a testimony of sorts. No earth shattering threats, no graphics, no tough consequences of death, no change in luck, no accidents. But it does have some of my time spent, some of my pride and faith and most importantly a promise to share God in a more effective way.

Let me take the first step:

I’ve been in Dubai for over a year now, and the irony is that I’ve learnt so much more than I would have if I were anywhere else. Before anyone decides that this desert has made the difference, I will only say that it was only that it happened to be this city. Circumstances choose the venue and the time; you’re there when you need to be. Some of the darkest of times have been waged and experienced in my mind and head here. I fought God, I fought my family, I fought everyone, including myself. And when I still couldn’t see what I was doing to myself, God decided to step in and stop the nonsense.

My pain was at its highest before I landed by job here; I had left a city and life I knew so well behind, I was in and out of interviews, made subject to racist remarks and also ‘barter deals’ for my salary. But with each experience, I said no and grew a little stronger inside. Part of it was because I was so sure I would go back to Bangalore and another was because my pride wouldn’t let me. Simple. When I had reached the end of my tether and began to fray at the ends, God decided to step in. There was no blinding lights, no flashes of lightening, no thunder. It was night, I was trying to fall asleep, but I couldn’t.

I tried hard to, but all I could think of was how life was suddenly so unfair, closed and desperate. I had never felt that way in my life. I began to sob angrily, completely cheesed off with the cards I had been dealt (and blind to the good ones I’ve had throughout my life), and I moaned into the dark of the room, “What the hell do you want from me?! What did I do, WHY?!!” I never got an answer that night.

A week later we were invited to dinner to a friend’s house, hours past and after what seemed an eternity dessert was served. As I helped the process along and cleared the table for the ice cream bowls, my eye caught on a sentence peeking up at me from under the newspaper on a book. It said, “The Purpose Driven Life: What God Wants from you”. You know the rest…I read the book, and the first sentence will always stick in my mind (just like the last one from Gone with the Wind – “Tomorrow is another day”) – “It’s not about you.”

I read that book cover to cover alone and with my family (we were able restart our family prayers and we haven’t stopped since - Dad and mom you better not have stopped!). The point I’d like to make is that sometimes God doesn’t use theatrics to get a point across to us. And I can assure you he doesn’t guilt us into it either. The last thing he needs is a guilt ridden believer. I don’t believe that God will send me to hell for being forthright, experiencing life, reading a book that challenges my thought processes, deleting a religious/spiritual forward, or not taking 36 copies of a novena and placing it somewhere or listening to another’s idea of faith and goodness. It only helps me believe in Him more. I guess that’s faith for me. I’m sure each of us have something wonderful to say about our own lives and faith that would hit anyone between the eye like ton of bricks and make a larger impact on their lives.

Y’see God took his time to reveal the larger purpose and plans he has for my life, he continues to take his time and I now know the timing is perfect, because I was in a position to be completely receptive and understand what was being revealed to me. Any time sooner or later, it would have bombed…badly. Timing is everything and let’s face it no one has timing like Him.

Before you think this a right royal tirade against forwards….let me assure you, it’s not just that J, it’s also about how we can make sharing the Word a more effective exercise that a futile one. Send someone a joke, they’ll be willing to take the time and even share it with the office. Send them a forward on how Jesus changes lives…quote a few verses from the Bible and boom you’re in limbo! If you scare easy, you forward it, if you don’t you delete it.

I took the time, I’m not ashamed and I hope that this in some way helps more of us to share.

I love you all.

So Spew Spewed...and How!

2006-12-11T16:45:00.000+04:00

Hokay...

So there's this guy...Spew. He's been B Schooled, writes well, engagingly so and enthralls with some wonderful anecdotes on life, lust, love, money, gender, a-day-in the-life-of and other such things that make all our posts that much more compelling.

So it isn't any surprise that i just HAD to pick up one of his posts and link it to this one here and well just take some time to add to it. Now, before you think i'm going to be nasty, i am only providing the other sides to the 'infinigon' that is the subject.

Shall i begin with a question?

Question: Isn't it just spiffy that ALL men have us women figured out?

It is isn't it? Because not ALL men have women figured out. I will grant the very few (who ultimately know it isn't something you crow about, thump chest and announce and so forth) The few who 'lay it out there' are the ones who've dipped their feet into the pool of unknown and come out triumphantly shaking and so 'cocksure' about that 'one' thing - Women are not easy, but i think i figured it out!

They come hard wired with a) b) c) d) and here are the sure shot ways to 'work' your way around it and a) get some b) get your laundry done c) feel warm and fuzzy d) get some more e) get them to shut up f) basically getting more out the buck and g) you can thank me and add to this later and h)...

You honestly think its that simple? And you want to know why guys nurse their beers after 7 years of being married and wonder what they hell they were doing with their lives, what that bootilicious squeeze they managed to bed in 1992 was doing and if she was still available, and what they needed to do to make sure that conference call at work could be rescheduled late...realllll late, for others they relocate to far off distant lands in search of money, peace, solitude - the neo-huntsman for their personal space.

For some guys, we're a statistic. Let's be honest. We're that 'unforgettable date/lay', 'person you want to take home (she's uncomplicated man - yeah, right!), 'easy', 'it just happened, it was time to settle down', 'my parents love her, that's all in know person' and it goes on.

The rule is there are no rules, Spew.

The rule is not to cloud your mind with - how do i deconstruct something that is unbelivably addictive, required and the clear case of the opposites and conquer her.

That's what the porno is about - minus the work your mind bit. Think about it. Women in 'easy cum easy go' story lines, with absolutly no reasons to debate the situation, place, peson or reason. She's pretty, she's buxom, she's got a hot ass. Wow! She doesn't say no, she's always ready for some more and she's a positively mind blowing cook.

You have the hot next door mom, the tight - peel my clothes of delivery girl, the leathered dominatrix, the naaive school girl (is it?!) the oh-my-goodness-gracious-heaven-help-me damsel in distress, the submissive....aww...for the love of...**&^$%$^&&&!

If that isn't an indication of how depraved the mind is when it comes to debunking myth, theory and plain common sense, i don't know what is. Bad enough so many of us have to 'adopt' these make believe stupid crappy personas to get men all hot and bothered.

I say this with absolute respect and deepest sympathies for the few men who actually don't think this way and have continued to face the wrath/force fields of quite a few women who are so bombarded with this stereotype that well...what can i say?...give the ones who have a fair chance a hard time. Hence the good fight...

So...

What are the other million things you ask, Spew? Well for one there's the want of not being typecast as a gender. No...No...i don't mean equality, i don't mean feminism, i don't mean any of that...that's all on a different level of thought and understanding.

Girl walks into room, Guy looks. He either likes what he sees or he doesn't. Fair enough. The same goes for us. Let's face it, we're all attracted to some form of male or female.

Past stage one. You move in...she's nice to talk to, she's reasonably you're type, you like more of what you see, you like what she wears, hey! you like her attitude, you gotta love the ass/bustline/face/eyes/lips (whatnot), and then it begins...you're moving her around in your mental 3D, sniffing at the
nuances of her, wondering what would it take to break into that egg shell. How do i do this with out shattering anything??? Hmmm....

Problemo Uno. We're homosapien. So the sniff, growl, arch and attack, present with game, sport plummage - won't work. DAMN! Oh, and we're not in Pleasantville. I mean bully for you, yeah?

There is no right way. There is you and her/him (whichever way you swing) and what you make out of it. It can either be something special, something that would actually help you put to use some of the intellect we all save up for our time alone with our thoughts. Like your blog for instance.

I don't believe - Heil the Henpeck or Cuddle the Cobra will work. You got lucky, cause for that particular 'her' that's the master key to getting her way. So she did your laundry, she's stupid, maybe... OR she finally got her principle and interest later without you so much as realsing there was ever an agenda - oh hell yeah!

For another woman, you'll meet - it could Bamboozle the Balls or Ass whip the Ass Wipe. Millions more from where that came from, for every woman or man there is an MO. And each one coes with a kick ass title.

Think about it.

Men are about the layers. That's what we are about too. Layers. The more you peel the more stronger it gets. Which is why the few who last out there with a simple understanding that what they're dealing with is another human being with the same wants and thought processes only better endowed and aesthetically made (i might as well slip that in, yeah? Cheapshot or not) makes it more simple and enjoyable.

Be who you are and enjoy your time with like-minded pepople. If it goes soemwhere, well, yeah, enjoy it. It's not getting some. If it is, i feel sorry for you. If that is your one mandate when it comes to women, then i'm sorry you'll get those kind of women, who really don't want to take the time (just like you) and actually make it a mind blowing experience.

Y'see, the one time you must have had that is when you were the least scheming. It would have either ripped you up, it would have been the best time of your life, it would have been one of the most amazing coversation you had...that's the one you'll never forget, that's the one you'll always want. Because for the first time you actually stopped thinking and started being.

The old news is that men and women come from different planets. The fact is we don't. The old news is that men think in black and white and women in shades of grey (who came up with that crap anyway?!). The fact is we pretty much can do both.

P.S - Devoid of any of other darker complications, preferences, psychosis and mental illness - this would be for the men and women who actually have normal disposition towards relationships, gender, love, sex, happiness and most importantly life.

We are all open to opine. Such is the current state of affairs in our world. Women now have an equal if not condecendingly allows right to voice their opinion and actually bristle when they read something that puts them into a bloody mould. When women say men are easy to figure out - men like that. Well, i'd like to tell those women men aren't easy either. You never really know what they want sometimes. Most often that not you do - that's a different matter. Maybe we are wired a little more comlicated, maybe we do give birth to children, we sustain the race (blah), but let's not forget in our self induced worlds of importance, we miss out on what we can get from each other.

Insight.

I'm tired now and this would be easier over wine and music and of course in person. This is just a piece of the feeling. A sliver of the depth. A sliver of a sliver. I now end to rest.

What's the use...? No really... It doesn't matter anyway, the battle of sexes differ from all identifiable demographics. It is a constantly evolving environement and what i say today is already commonplace.

But it had to be said. So i said it. It's 6:00 p.m. 7:30 p.m. where I come from.

Over and out.

Throb of Thought

2006-12-07T11:41:00.000+04:00

It hurts.

I feel a horrible sense of pain. I have to admit the reasons pretty stupid, and if a certain someone were to know what this reason was - he or she would probably laugh indulgently, jab his or her finger at the screen as he or she read my ache and say, "serves you right".

This certain someone tends to feel vindictive even though he or she perfectly wonderful otherwise. Its a clear case of validating one's sense of lack, I can empathise with that. I respect an individual's way of proving they're right (even in a scenario that there is no right or wrong, just the way it is).

Now let's not get ahead of ourselves, by no means do I agree with the reaction. The perspective (mine) was and is clear. Logic and sense seldom prevail in human emotion. Private human emotion.

Right now, I feel this dull pulse of panic at the pit of my stomach. Like I'm extremely distraught. I feel it and yet I stand outside of myself rationalising it, trying to make it go away and yet...again...it doesn't.

The cacophony of telephone conversation, gossip and wasteful exercises of (again) validating our pay cheques continues in the background.

I blame myself and no one else for finding and passionately espousing such environments only to be let down a few moments in time later. I understand this flaw and yet it is embedded in me do deeply.

'The Thorn in my Flesh'

I have a promise from above to be made 'strong through my weakness' to be glorified someday through the very same abrasive that scours at the life I know I can have. I have a dark case of it today. It's a combination of fatalistic thought, deeply scarred mental tissue, patience, a penchant for the dark (by default), faith and the ability to laugh at myself.

What shall I call this malady? An irony? No, that's already taken.

Ever since the holiday a very different throb of thought has worked it's way into pockets of my mind where I had successfully managed to lock out all feeling and reason and be able to function like the drones (I'm surrounded by them). But you can't control the throb of thought.

If I were to meet this certain someone anywhere, they probability of him or her walking away, avoiding me or looking the other (worse case scenario: pretending to not know me) is way higher than any other positive experience. However, to put to rest my dull pulse of panic, I'd like to say that I wouldn't apologise, I would say hi with the same affection and pray that he or she did well. Cause truth be told he or she deserves it. Even more.

But I wouldn't apologise not for me, not for the world, not for him or her. There was nothing to apologise for. It was wonderful.

Ah well...such is life. Revisitation of an extremely personal nature among other things should be avoided at all costs.

The pulse of panic has dulled to a blip.

Blip.

Five minutes before sleep

2006-11-24T00:11:00.000+04:00

Sleep. Tired eyes. Silence. Whirr of CPU. Dog barking. Whizzing traffic. Faint honking. Obvious speed.

lots of thoughts. Some incoherent. Someone talking about Simi Garewal on the street (what. Dog howling. It is 1:25 a.m.

stomach full. Over-ate. Not happy about that. Feel the chillies burn my gut. Nice :).

Sigh. Uninstalled unwanted programs. In the middle of defragmentation (of comp drives, excuse you). Killed lone loathsome mosquito. Another one is sure to fly by. More silence.

unsure of where unhappiness stems from. Second mosquito on cue. On time.

gate crunches open at the front of house. Neighbours are back from some place obviously.

More thoughts. Creaky car door sounds. Defragmentation process complete. Gate closes. Sound of neighbours locking gate. Ironically enough the gate is never open. Slip of thought into the open.

jingling keys at door. Their door. Dragging something. Door swings open and shut. Click. Door locks.

more traffic whizzes by. Second mosquito gets small bite. Annoyance sets in. Traffic. Whizzing by. So is time.

log in time. 1:30 p.m.

good night.

Hmph.

2006-11-05T15:24:00.000+04:00

So i'm sitting on the edge of reason, legs dangling over the last strand of sanity that enables me to put in more than 8 hours of work everyday, when i feel a tap on my back and a 5 minute tirade on consistency.

My initial reaction? Cannot be printed.

But my more humane response were non-commital hmmmss and haws...I made no bones about how ridiculous this here stress on consistency sounded to me. For the love of all things good, when we lack the sheer capacity to be consistent with more meaningful things in life, i daresay (indeed!) that a minor formatting error on a sheet of paper only brings to light the complete waste of point, time and breath. and of course also completely throws light on how utterly jobless we all are. Nuf said.

Where i come from, formatting issues are either solved, taken care of or dealt with and not hankered on day after day, month after month or year after friggin year. Life goes on, really. And the formatting (God bless the effort, no really!) makes no meaningful dent and wastes away in cyberspace while it transits to an equally 'give a damn about paperwork' recipient who could well be more worried about whether he/she will wake up to a job tomorrow or not. Sales is a tough job, overrated, but tough. I will admit that taking a completely useless product or service putting a waste of spin on it and then setting off coat in hand to 'hawk' the darned thing is a self inflicted welt for a living, but then hey...so is every other man made occupation, isn't it?

The lucky few walk down red carpets, strum guitars, and capture frames of habitat, emotion and colour. Their works are paid for, their lives are celebrated. By the very hands that employ millions of people across the world. You and me, my friend.

Somewhere in my youth or childhood.....I must have f@#%^ed up prettty badly!

Over and out.

For every 100 seconds...

2006-11-05T14:25:00.000+04:00

It's officially going to be close a month since i posted here...

A thought occured to me as a spent 15 minutes on the rowing machine, mentally clocking a minute before speeding up the number of reps on the machine....

"It's funny how we need to quantify everything, even when we exercise. We stop at 15 and start a new rep, the closer we get to 15 the quicker we push ourselves to reach the edge of that defined activity. It's like our mind's are attuned to the numbers and the closer we get the more the muscle aches to stop.

I wonder...what if there were a hundred seconds in a minute...would it then push our limits of endurance or make us less impatient? Would it in a sweet way shorten our attention span but pack in more matieral? Would i walk for a 100 minutes? It's only an hour it you think about it..."

Time. What a limitation.

When thoughts are addressed and put to rest

2006-09-17T12:47:00.000+04:00

Seldom do one's fears work it's way through someone's speech, voiced thought or statement and find a place inside of you that is both troubled and confused with the conflict brewing inside. When i read the Homily delivered by Pope Benedict XVI at St Peter's Square during his inaugural Mass on April 24 2005, the last two paragraphs did stir me to want to post this here, so that anyone who passes by and feels the same fear would understand that although the fear doesn't cripple us from leading our daily lives, it cripples us from being what we could and can be. Free.

I do subscribe to this thought, i believe it almost manically that we are all free when we are rid of our fears. And as we strive to get there, it is heartening to know that in this maze of human devises and million to one chance of ever knowing whether the utopic unity we all strive for in thought , belief and practice will be acheived - that we are not alone.

And to quote the Homily, "In this way, I too can say with renewed conviction: I am not alone. I do not have to carry alone what in truth I could never carry alone."

The last two paragraphs from the Homily - by Pope Benedict XVI | The Inaugural Mass, Sunday 24 April 2005

"Are we not perhaps all afraid in some way? If we let Christ enter fully into our lives, if we open ourselves totally to him, are we not afraid that He might take something away from us? Are we not perhaps afraid to give up something significant, something unique, something that makes life so beautiful? Do we not then risk ending up diminished and deprived of our freedom? And once again the Pope said: No! If we let Christ into our lives, we lose nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing of what makes life free, beautiful and great.

No! Only in this friendship are the doors of life opened wide. Only in this friendship is the great potential of human existence truly revealed. Only in this friendship do we experience beauty and liberation. And so, today, with great strength and great conviction, on the basis of long personal experience of life, I say to you, dear young people: Do not be afraid of Christ! He takes nothing away, and he gives you everything. When we give ourselves to him,we receive a hundredfold in return. Yes, open, open wide the doors to Christ and you will find true life. Amen."

Knocked out : Say Cheesy!

2006-08-29T15:06:00.000+04:00

At the risk of exposing some of the work i'm 'handed' on a dry day...

Spot the Cheese:

Sub head: Flower Week Turned Shopping Mall into a Shopping Scenter

Part of Big Fun in the City pragraph

Our visitors got to make friends with Woody Ruffwood, the incredible talking tree held its audiences spellbound with his delighftful tales and lively music. Families were held rooted (i can imagine why!) by the amazing tree, as he and his friends sang songs for the children gathered around him.

HALP.HALP!

The thought being unemployed

2006-08-13T16:03:00.000+04:00

If I were to quit, I'd join the super duperly underestimated few who finally mustered up the courage to call a spade an opportunity.

I wouldn't get an SMS update confirming my salary credit, I wouldn't have an annual performance review. I wouldn't need to have inane dialogue exchanges with clients who are as determined as much as or probably more than you to ensure they introduce 'coinages of the unheard', corporate spiel that will send you yelping into the corner of the board room.

Being me, I wouldn't need to return the favour.

No more negotiating costs. No repitch, re-evaluate or resubmit.

Bright ideas will never be shot, maimed or disfigured ever again. Life as it were would turn toward the sun.

Office politics would be amusing anecdotes from stress infested dinner guests, friends who need a space to be, and sundry. Creative thought would surface and breathe. Severance would take on a whole new meaning.

To think about unemployment at this juncture in my life, is amusing. I don't have stashes saved up, I do not have a trust fund. And I will admit my self confidence is peppered with a feeling on unease, only because it is a learnt vice - the dependence on money.

To feel the crunch of notes as you smooth them out over a counter at the grocery store, the little piece of you that sails across a credit card slip when you sign away a week's pay over eggs, silk, leather or soap. It's all of that and more.

The thought manifested when I slid in two dirham coins into the parking ticket machine. Two seconds later, it was spat out with a curt reminder to check the fee for three hours, I had slipped by three more.

My journey has reached another enlightening pitstop. The fear that money creates within your being is an indispensable rot that gnaws at your very core. Beyond bones, feeling, and ability. My battle has ensued; and I'm close to winning it. Close, but not there yet.

whaddya i know

2006-08-07T15:27:00.000+04:00

I do know i'm setting deadlines. I tried doing this before, and i never could get down to respecting a deadline till it started blinking red. That's when i work best.
On the personal front, plans have never been a success. I think, make lists, go the whole hog and do it all accordingly to 'plan' and then it just caves, like badly made cake.

In the past year, i had the time and venue to do a lot of soul searching, i've woken up bathed in sweat, gasping for air - the severity of thought. Imagine, if you will, some of the largest moments in your life twisted, revealing meaning, coming back in full force under the guise of synapse blasts and you'll be wide awake like me - gulping down cups of water from the bathroom tap.

But it has changed me. For good (both ways).

I have come to a door. For the past few weeks i've been in a dark tunnel, scraping my palms along the walls, breathing deeply in anticipation for some light and a way out. And I know stand feeling the door knob of what i know is another portal, a transit into more.

Choices - the confusing decision

2006-07-31T15:18:00.000+04:00

There are so many things i could wish for right now and know in my heart and reality that it wouldn't happen. Unless, i moved my ass to get it.

But the one thing that has continued to be elusive is the search for that one person. as the years slip by ever so evidently, i have come to no conclusions, because fools do that.

I have however come to a fork in the road with an inn by the side, that allows me to sit down and look at the fork awhile and wonder which raod to take. There is no guarentee of who and what i'll experience (pun intended!) and there is absolutely no synopsis of what each trail promises to assure me in terms of benefits or cons (like the home shopping network).

All i can and have to do is choose one road. Exciting to some, exhilirating to others. To me, it's just plain confusing. I don't know what i'm taking any of the roads for; ahead of me i only have a vague idea of where i'd like to end up. Unlike some of the irritants who know everything they want, right down to the colour of their parasol when their 64.

There was a time these people could make me feel so inadequate, that i'd want to curl up and disappear. Although that has changed dramatically to wanting to clock them on their head till they bleed, i still hurt from the surety that they possess.

Am i a wanderer, an aimless single woman? Or am i someone who's just up for what's being thrown at her. I don't know, what do you think? I'm sick and tired for putting myself out there only to be served cold. I hate that when i'm able to emote with such passion, that the people pass me by, that they don't see the light in my eyes, it makes me sad.

The many men who parade their profiles continue to find their way to my inbox and my trash can. The ones i venture out to contact, either turn out to be shallow pricks, the others too good looking and perfect for the likes of me. In no way do i mean that as a diss to myself. The diss, verily, is to no one. We all have our short lists.

Rejection, i have learnt is a bitter pill to swallow, even it is covertly done and you and the person don't know each other (a.k.a online, e-mails, chat sessions), but it stings nevertheless. When i send out one of those, i do think about how their faces will twitch from an expectant stare to a let down whistle. And i do feel bad. Because i could and possibly will be a recipient of one of those badly written polite declines.

Which brings me to the stage where i ask myself, is it worth being on this here, is it so bad that one can't find someone on their own. Does it take me more than just a half baked attempt at this game to find someone truly meaningful?

Is there no supernatural way I could be spirited to the exact spot i'll bump into this person?

What is hard work when one is trying to find a life partner? Speed dating sessions, botched trials, blind dates, hobby classes, walks on the beach, impromptu club hopping, meeting friends of friends (okay that's out!), work (no way!), What does it take...better still what will it take?

I'm okay. I think i can say that now. I have plateaued with my hate for this place. I still don't like it. But like they say, i can choose how i can use my negativity. I have started to push all of that energy into work and i have got some good work done. By my standards, i need to notch up something for the year spent here.

So, i work and then when the clock strikes 6, I pack, leave and drive home. I reach home, watch tv with aj, and then i sit back and start talking with him. Being my brother, he has his way of being an angel and letting me talk and then doing the same, so that we're on the same page. Once we're way past normal sleep hours, we pray, say Amen and go to sleep.

Mundane, yes. Complicated, no.

I have realised i want to study again. I also know i would like to fall in love for keeps, i now know that life sometimes is worse for the better.

But these life lessons, are just that, lessons that graduate you to bigger situations, to larger implications. I think i'm going to post this on my blog. See what the few people who even know about it think.

I'm stumped. Am i making too much of this blank i'm experiencing. Oh, by the way, I have realised that friends and socialising with people is a blessing and i intend to practice with aplomb when i'm back. So, watch out! (I'm kidding! Dont lock your door! No, really!)

I really everyone, i miss Bangalore, i miss those days when things were a lot more simpler, and i miss that i'll never be able go back, I miss that it will never be the same. It will be new and better, but i still miss what it was. Does that make sense? :)

Ah well...

Life Update - "Hmmm..."

2006-07-25T13:41:00.000+04:00

My colleague walked up to me as i reviewed responses from my enthusiastic family's(much love!)reactopm to my tiny spark of interest to the possibility of pursueing details about mystery man, who happens to have floated off the internet (much thanks be due to my Aji-kutta for sending this one on) and on to my screen. "This is desperation," she said.

I didn't reply, i just switched windows and started to type. I didn't think it was anyone's business. Bad enough, i'm trying to deal with this on my own and the last thing i needed was an opinion completely forged on tight ass!

The moment she walked away, i stopped typing, lookied above my screen and chewed on my lip, wondering whether i should or shouldn't. I did. I switched screens again and looked at the guy's profile. How in the world is someone like him still looking?

My aunt's loving response to this over the phone two nights ago - what business did someone like me have asking this question when i was doing the same thing? Safe to say, it's a long story and also a very intense one. I don't regret the journey nor the time spent - will never ever regret it.

To say i was extremely flattered; would be a sore understatement. Bless your soul Vkchma!

And so, i mustered up the piss-pot edgy dare to mumble an interested "Hmmm..." and you know the rest.

A press office is officially in place, logistics have begun tracking; hearty congrtulations are being shared in upper echelons of home and news wires have started to wag their jaws. Such is the excitement.

I mean they barely took some time off from Big Brotha's initiation into the soon-to be-wed group - and now one little "hmmm..." has started them up again. I do laugh indulgingly to see how wickedly happy they all are - like they've had a breakthrough. Nevermind.

And so, the search and the menu intensifies. All this with one little "hmmm..."

Later y'all...later...

Road Block #1

2006-07-23T16:41:00.000+04:00

It was bound to happen sooner or later...

Frustrated tapping at keys and a dwindling form to my topic essay is driving me around the bend. With over 7 topics to choose from, i assigned my self the 'bright spark' task of writing out some sort of brief synopsis of each one to enable me to understand which one would be better suited.

Work has been relatively quiet enough and so the endurance of such frustrating ache has been easier on my mind.

Keep punching...keep punching...

My Journey - so far...

2006-07-13T18:44:00.000+04:00

Yello Yello,

Thought i'd post my update and tell you how far i have reached...so far i have identified one unversity (so far, the search continues) that could provide for my thirst for research and English studies, they have identical courses to what i was hoping apply for. It's been good responses all round, have written to them, awaiting reply on my submission of topics.

Anne, if you do get here [my brotha will guide you ;; incase i don't send you the link first], tell me what you think of these topics. Everyone else, who passes by lemme know your thoughts. Add on something, build on it feel free!

English studies:

1) Contemporary Fiction, Modernism and Trauma; texts and publishing

2) Pathway in Modern and Contemporary Writing and Culture
3) Pathway in Modern and Contemporary Writing and Religion / Spiritual texts (Interest fuelled)

Publishing:

1) Contemporary fiction publishing & literary prizes
2) Marketing and Management in Publishing (Interest fuelled and career focussed)
3) Publishing and book trade outside the UK (career focussed)

Publishing has been some what of an interest i harboured for awhile, before life took its course. Would love to makeover my career with books at its core.

Question: When researching for possible topics of study, must one only consider the passion or the viability behind them once outside the portals of knowledge? Hmmm...a penny for your thoughts...

Today - I begin my journey

2006-06-21T09:02:00.000+04:00

"Knowing is not enough; we must apply. Willing is not enough. We
must do."

~Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

I believe the time has come. It is time for me to begin my journey to acheiving my dream. Like i everyone else, i too have a dream to be able to accomplish the goals that i have set for myself.

I write this because i know that someone blogging by will hold me accountable and so will a few who know this blog exists.

My dream is to write. And to do that i want to hone those skills in a centre of learning. And to do that, i need to start scouting for the right universities, and the right environment.

Step One.

Feel free to leave any helpful links, insights or feedback which i can pick up on.

Expound and Expunge

2006-06-12T11:24:00.000+04:00

My colleage handed me a few articles over the course of two weeks that expound very heartfelt 'isms'; reflecting deep into the matter that is human kind. The four writers are respected figureheads of their art - earning them the titles of intellectuals - people dedicated to expounding.

As a child i would sit and watch my father read books, utterly inspid to me at the time - devoid of colour or pictures - completely engrossed and thoughtfully pondering on the various thoughts and conclusions of many men and women who immortalised intellectualism in spheres of politics, philosophy, realism, compounded thought, motivation, science, religion and let's not forget the left way of thinking.

Dad wasn't much of leftist, he called himself a humanist - last time i checked there was a sphere by that name as well. Do i know the actual meaning or inner depth that each spehere holds, do i know the lasting implications it will have on my life? Quite honestly the reality of the impact is beyond comprehension.

I picked my way through the spines of these books, amused at first and then slightly piqued by what i saw on the jackets. Being a loner, books were my only companion, sharers of thought and givers of space to form your own. The beauty is that when you read Plato, for example, you may either agree, disagree, soak in or spit out what he has to say and then form your opinion, which could either be a mish mash of what Plato had to say and what you have to say as well and then you present your arugument or present stand to a welcoming audience of like-minded individuals who all have this new found knowledge that is coloured with their own experiences.

Mind you, everyone is dying to debut their thought - some in the hope of a mini movement, others in the hope of finally being able to expound their view and opinion (with a little or lot of help from the Masters).

Masters are those who continue into life setting trends that are either
a) hard acts to follow
b) impossible and therefore attractive
c) utopic in a herd mentality or
d) a flippant temporary occupation for many who lose their way and suddenly find an alternative route (most often than not, they tire of it half way through and only hang on to the brief but very intense courtship for mellow exchanges over drinks or a long walk in the woods).

One of the biggest questions i have never had answered straight is how intellectuals make their living. Some of the successful ones who visited our universities for good expound sessions have a house on the hills and either off-spring in an Ivy Leauge or internships with the World Bank. Ironically the biographies were passed around class when he/she was well on his way to the station or the airport.

I don't mean it as a snide rhetoric, i truly would like to know.
Being a full time, committed intellectual is not an easy task. To quote, read, write, imprint footnotes and state a point of view in a divided, fickle and highly charged politi-religio atmosphere is no mean task. We live in sea of intellectuals today - everyone wants to be 'wise'.

But there are a few who by worthy PR by their followers, contemporaries, invitations and sheer difference stand the test of endurance and continue true to their cause.

My father's books provided me with a starter kit into what i would go on to call a enlightening time in my life. Some of the people i have met, have without flinching told me how irrevocably negative i am in my approach to certain things in life, and how i get them thinking. As long as i'm achieving the latter, i really don't believe the approach is negative - it is frutiful. And therein lies the difference.

Sure, there will be times when i am made to succumb to the pressures of knowledge and my temperament (a lethal combination i assure you). But for the greater good of thought i don't mind.

Why i don't expound in good measure is because i am a hermit in comparison to my well travelled and connected influencers. I don't know whether i will be invited to a famed portal and asked to expound - but i do dream of it. I do aspire.

Arm chair theory spawned many movement, the occupant of the arm chair died, but the thought was already spun and it took flight into people who were deprived, used, abused and finally vindicated. Some of the life changing beliefs that we use as an impetus in our lives were birthed by individuals you wouldn't have recognised and were known by very few. their books grace very shelves, their spines thumbed over time by the same hands and few friends. The knowledge stewed, evolved and then was dipped into and inked into newer and adaptable situations and realities.

Knowledge isn't written in stone it is (re)volutionary. Evolves and revolves, twisting and turning and burning and never dying.

And so what i may know today will be something else tomorrow and so we never 'know' but are always learning.

These four articles my good friend handed me i would like to talk about, and i will in my next visit.

Good day.

What are the odds?

2006-06-08T15:58:00.000+04:00

What are the odds of a mood swing in a day in the life of Megha Abraham?

I'd say a million to one. After flying to Dubai, i've come to a point in my life, where i need to battle my negativity, that has so easily made being a royal sore to myself. I've pretty much spent enough energy to light up a small town for a week, just being anal about the city and its lack of depth.

Apart from it being a fact, i am not choosing how i'm supposed to react to it. See, that's a choice i HAVE. And i'm not exercising it. Call me stupid and i'll concede (just this once...).

As i was driving to work this morning, the radio blared out a song that i've heard a million times before but never really paid attention. Wake Up.

Wake up it's a beautiful morning Tra la...remember?

Well, there is part in the song that tells you that it could be the last time you're looking at the sky and you'd never know it, so wake up and enjoy what you have...yada yada?

Well, it nevers struck a chord before, but it did today. I guess all the stars had aligned for the epiphany, so i went ahead had it. The epiphany.

So i relaxed my brow and looked up at the Dubai skyline on Sh. Zayed road and yeah...it was a pretty blue. And i do realise that we're all in this here place to learn and make the most of what we have, and so i might as well, get my plans in order and start focussing on how i can be in a better frame when i look at everything and wait my turn.

Yeah...i've gotta go write a press release and finish up an editorial calendar...not really spiffy stuff, but it pays the bills and allows me the dream of saving up for better.

The lonliness reminds me of what i had and let go of, it reminds me that we all have a reason for what we do, and although sometimes it hurts like crazy even now, we just walk on...knowing somewhere there is a reason and time for every purpose...yeah...under heaven.

Do i think little of everyone else? No i don't, in fact i think that those micro manage like the life beneath the duff, is an empire to conquer in itself. A world where details least noticed is the sealing factor to most successes. It is the armour in a large mass of fighting warriors without which no battle can be complete. It is the ranks, the form and the files that set an organised fighting body from a mean course and uncouth mass, where no discipline or carriage can cause a riot within one's own ranks and the enemy mocks at their hardly fought victory.

Such is the importance of detail. For it speaks volumes and yet is never noticed in the larger scheme of things. In hindsight it is recalled in appreciation and wonder. And although credit is not received when one expects it or wants it, it arrives in times you may never know or understand and set in motion wonderous cycles of gratitude that swamp you in pleasant surprise and confusion. And then a deep and very comfortable warmth that settles the uncertainity in your being, telling you how much of a difference that one extra gesture cost you then, but reaps richly now.

Detours take time and pride!

2006-06-08T15:50:00.000+04:00

{That's the picture of the loo door!}
What a day - it's been one long detour after the other. This was the first day i was to drop my brother off to his office - the route was simple enough but then you always, well i don't always but then i did today - took all the wrong turns AFTER - i dropped him off. And so i'm driving around with my bladder full, ready to pee. Every wrong turn i take and my bladder sloshes all the more and i'm going cross eyed to try and get a good look at the road signs.

Anyway, i finally reach and take the ill-fated decision to park in my usual spot (out of habit of course!) and i completely forget i'm an hour late - which makes the parking lot full! Sigh...work with me me on this one...

And then i park a mile away, speed walk to the lobby and then decide (smartly!) that i take the fast route to the ground floor loo (big mistake). I run in, push the swinging doors to find three men in front of a full length mirror adjusting crotches, and tucking in shirt respectively. I stumble half way in order to avoid any more embarrasment crying out profuse apologies.

And do a 360 for the door and push past and barely make it to the ladies loo, and go about the much delayed business. Relief...

I'm still late, yeah?

So, i'm quite releived and quite...releived at this point. And while i swing out to the elevators, from the corner of my eyes i see the same three guys waiting for elevators. I'm pondering the whole disaster of sharing the elevator all the way to the third floor with these boys when i see the glint in one of their eyes, and a low...very low whistle.

So, i walk on (absolutely no break in my stride) and i take the stair - i'm late!

And i reach office and i manage to start work, until my thoughts overwhelm me and i had to type.

And so now, before i venture out onto the roads again - this time to pick me brother up and then proceed home, i know now that some things planned to the T, make absolutly no sense and the diversions...well...the diversions...are Nature's way of telling you that you ain't in control babeee!

Sigh.

Post Afternoon

2006-06-08T15:39:00.000+04:00

So here i am staring at a section of my desk post Thursday lunch. I decided i had to take a picture of it and share the view. Oh...me thoughts in general spill down below...

And so we've reached another fork in road, a road we all either dread, wait for or share an equal measure of both anticipation and reluctance to take.

My parents (God bless them both!) have reached that fork in the road where they will ride their mules back to India (they are officially back home as i type), whilst i take the road less travelled, knowing fully well that will make all the difference.

I'm not scared, but then what does one call this feeling at the pit of the stomach? Excitement?

I can hardly call this place a destination of dreams, unless i'm either white, have a passport to any of the ports in the western hemisphere or rightly have a platinum spoon glued to the inside my mouth for good measure.

No my daddio brought us up with the forthright outlook that was branded into each Abraham child by eartwhile P.S or GP as we nexgens knew him.

It was branded, i say it that way, because each sibling took it away and moulded it with their own streak of liberalism, rebeliousness or secret streak that makes each offspring that sprung later so amazingly different and yet bonded, that science, DNA or even logic remains stumped at the outcome.

Yes, and so i will foray into the world of living on my own again. Alebit almost a year too late. I guess being with the folks for a year after a 5 year run at independence only forged the fact further that they're amazing people and i love them dearly. But when it comes to personal space and time management and life in general, i have officially come to the conclusion that it is time, it is done on one's own.

Growing older is a bitch as is.

I'm not sure how things will turn out here really. I have all these maojr plans, and although conquering the world isn't one of them, i do know i would like to earn enough to buy a place of my own. Save enough so that i could make it to a cafe for coffee and write a book in peace without worrying about where my next meal would come from. If i were to do the math for just a piece of this plan, it would safely come upto around 5 years. And so, am i willing to waste it on something i know i'm not really happy doing?

Not sure really...

And so how will this dream be realised? Hmmm...

See these are the questions i hate, the one where the answers are as stable as fluff.

Sigh...

But then nothing is impossible.

And so the arguments or the battle of the positive and negative continue.

For now, one battle is won, i get to live on my own again, and it will be good. I know it will, for the simple reason that i have my space, my thinking zones and well i don't know the freedom to plan my day and my future!

An ode to Living Room

2006-03-30T14:43:00.000+04:00

It's under this extremely stuffy atmosphere that i recall with extreme fondness living room...who helped share a lot of reality and love.

Living Room was a wonderfully appointed space, with the right cushions, food and entertainment.

But Living Room was what it was - because of the people. It was what it was because what those people shared.

The lovely thing about Living Room was that it...travelled, it's spirit rested wherever these people congregated.

Living Room wafted deep into their senses, snapping out tension, and ironing out brows.

But like all good things, Living Room grew tired of the same faces, it wanted to push through and travel with the far winds and plunge into azure pools where it would collect and lie in huge serpent like coils, resting and infusing energy.

Living room, missed it's larger purpose. It missed what it was capable of doing. The spaces that it created for the people were all it knew and it longed for more. To be able to create more spaces, to be able to waft itself into nature to infuse calm and serenity in the atmosphere. It wanted so much more.

And so one day when the people were burgeoning with happiness and good cheer, the living room bolted, jerking each person out their revellery as it escaped. The crevices of the room seemed like large fissures, living room spiralled out of any given space, as it watched the life drain out of the people's faces. Their skin began to bleach like bone and their smiles faded against their will. The looked at each other and their drinks in horror as the colour seeped and sloshed over the edges.

Living room heard their death like cries and as the last of it's infusion poured out of the corner of the room, it turned to take one last look at the people who had made it what it was.

The last image the living room would always remember were the people clutching madly at the last vestiages of colour as it faded...faded...

Like an energy pulse in the distance Living room hung in the dark night sky, until the last pitiful cry was lost to the emptiness.

_________

"I need a name," thought living room. "I can't be living room anymore, I am soemthing more important, and i have a larger purpose."

And so Living Room flew, it continued to think and think, looking this way and that - at the trees, and the asphalt, the rivers and the sea, everything rushed past living room, so much of creation.

It passed crackling neon signs, and rain washed streets, pails of garbage and moaning streets, squaekly buildings and silent alley ways - looking for inspiration. But finding none.

Living room's name was loaded with connotation that only the people knew. Living room didn't understand it. To anyone else living room was the most insipid title an experience could get. Living room hated that.

"If only they'd seen the magic i could create..." it huffed.

Living room floated on, until it sat on the edge of a shore, looking out to sea. It felt lonely, and began to miss the times it spun for the people. A small smile flitted across somewhre in Living Room's being.

It had picked up a a signal.

Living room swung around to find the source of the smile and floated across the shore. The beach was dark, the stars blipped brightly.

And then suddenly Living room stumbled. It rolled and rolled and rolled a few more times, until it stopped in a pulsating ball of energy and sand. And then saw.

Behind the wet dune of sand sat a group of people, Living room had never seen before.

No one was saying anything. They just sat in a circle. Music played in the background, and they seemed to be talking without saying anything. Clouds of smoke and bottles aurrounded these people. In between the silence murmers were shared, and then laughter and then silence again.

Living Room liked them, they were peaceful, they reminded Living Room of home. And so it inched closer. Within the circle, a person (we'll call Raven) sat up...he felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. Like he wasn't alone in his thoughts anymore. Brushing the sand from his elbows, he stood up and stretched, his mind taut with attention.

Living room stopped in it's tracks...

Peering over the top of the dune, it noticed one of the people standing up and looking in its direction. Living Room couldn't believe it, had it made a noise?! "But i'm invisible...i'm an experience! How he can he see me?," it asked itself and bobbed up and down peeking over the dune...waiting for the person to settle down before it moved in a little closer.

The Cute Factor

2006-01-10T22:41:00.000+04:00

Denis Dutton is a philospher of art at the University of Canterbury in New Zealand. I would like to quote this man on cute.

"Cute cuts through all layers of meaning and says, Let's not worry about complexities, just love me."

He's currently working on a book on darwinan aesthetics. (yendonaa?!)

Hmmm...

Now i'm not so sure about being called cute anymore, cause is this what i'm communicating through my visual cues?

A New York Times Report says - "Cute cues are those that indicate extreme youth, vulnerability, harmlessness and need, scientists say, and attending to them closely makes good darwinian sense."

Does it now?!

I mean so where does that leave us cute folk, eh? (i mean humility be side stepped for a minute here!)

If cuteness is distinct from beauty, emphasising rounded over sculpted, soft over refined, clumsy over quick - then i ain't cute no more. I wouldn't like to be called that please! Sniff...

But wait a minute - i chanced upon this little piece of information as well - further down the cute NYT report is says - "Even as they say a cute tooth has rational roots, scientists admit they are just beginning to map it's subtleties and source. New studies suggest that cute (images) stimuate the same pleasure centres of the brain aroused by sex, a good meal or psychoactive drugs," (which means i'm a trip for free?!).

So with these contradicting studies doing the rounds i now settle into a self debate of whether to take compliments of cute seriously. Here we are in a century where everything is pretty much out in the open. Everyone knows everything, give it to you straght, mince nothing. And yet, we still have our pockets where things aren't dished out to you straight. So what exactly is one saying when they say - "you're cute."

Is it the easy way out of saying you're not a bomb, but hey i like ya? Could it be a genuine response of what you're sending out as a visual cue (Do i make you feel like you just had a good meal? awh ma goodness gracious!)

So much to say that now, i understand one thing - the cute factor makes evolutionary sense! It's gotta, cause once you start catering to the balance of providing for it (the cute factor is said to stimulate ends of many unused synapses to provide, respond, care for, and protect!) then the evolution of the species is made whole in it ultimate journey toward the next steps in making progress.

Gawh i carry such a heavy weight on my shoulders - Atlas shrugged, i'm still in the fight, y'all!

So is the report true when it says, "Beauty attracts admiration and demands a pedestal; cuteness attracts affection and demands a lap. Beauty is rate and brutal, despoiled by a pimple. Cuteness is commonplace and generous.

What the...?!

Sigh.

So much for making evolutionary sense.

Fish Basket - May Ai Halp yu?

2006-01-03T09:33:00.000+04:00

A Press Invitation of such epic proportion is as rare as the Hailey's Comet. Rarer even!

Ladies and Gentleman in my quest for a simple gourmet experience, i found this press letter too tempting not to share, enjoy!

NB: The spelling is all 'okay', yeah?

Fish Basket Restaurent

Dear Mess'rs,

Entering the Fish Basket does not fill you with the confidence that the meal that that you are about to receive is going to be all that special or the place has unique Decoration.

But, we are happy to report looks can be deceptive.

The concept here is the fish market style you go to an ice counter covered with fresh sea 'delicious'. All what you have to do is choose the way you like it served and we will memorize the yammi expression and hang them on our chests as a middle of honour for gaining your satisfaction.

Join a world of compare less taste and service in a surrounding VIP atmosphere. We will be honoured by your visit you will honour us.

Please note that reading this paper payed you an Invitation for two.

_________________________________

Ladies and Gentlemen - The Fish Basket...

Now if this doesn't make you take printouts and rush over there, i don't know what will!

P.S - Anytime you swing by Dubai, go check 'em out - Tel 3367177, PO BOx 26522, Dubai, UAE

Happy New Year | Strain for the prize

2006-01-01T13:33:00.000+04:00

I started out somewhere in this blog with a New Year message,and here i am making antoher one.

Taken from a book called the Daily Bread, December 31st. It was 12:00 a.m. Dad and i sat down to pray, thank God for what He had given us. Interestingly, we were wiser, suddenly open to reality in a different way, a much nicer way.

"In his painting 'An Allegory of Prudence,' 16th century Venetian artist Titian portrayed Prudence with three heads. One head was of a youth facing the future, another was of a mature man eyeing the present, and the third was of a wise old man gazing at the past.

Over their heads Titian wrote a latin phrase that means, 'From the example of the past, the man of he present acts prudently so as no to imperil the future.'

We need that kind of wisdom to overcome the anxiety created by our past failures and fear of repeating them in the future - an anxiety that keeps us from living to the fullest now. Paul was able to 'forget' his past and anticipate his future (Phil 3:13-14).

This doesn't mean his memory was erased; it means that Paul was free of any guilt or pride he may have felt from his past actions, becasue God had forgiven him. This attitude enabled him to live in the present and 'press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus' (v.14). So he had one driving passion - to know Christ better.

As we close the chapter of this year, let's rededicate ourselves to Christ. Jesus will enable us to live fully in he present as we gain wisdom from the past and face the future with courage."

- Dennis De Haan | Daily Bread | RBC Ministries

____________________________

And so to prudence, i raise my toast. To our ability to stand the test of what is set before us and to make of it a better understanding and better tomorrow.

- that's me by the way.

Happy New Year, all of ya!

Blue Bedouin

2005-12-29T17:36:00.000+04:00

The guy locked himself up in his secluded recording studio for 2 years. He had experimentation as a DJ (6 years) and then as a radio broadcaster (several more) to arm himself to achieve his dream.

What he created is now offically called the Khaliji Chillout subgenre. He is now officially called the first musician to introduce it to the world. If any of you get your hands on Blue Bedouin, chances are you were either expanding your collection on a whim, completely into foresight, or just plain darn lucky. Most online music store stand officially empty of their coffers of this baby, and well i've heard a couple of his tracks, and they ARE GOOD!

Me gonna get me one of theees Blue Bedouin babeee! [aka Madea - anyone who hasn't clued into this series (film and NY play) either, are missing out on something gig time!

His name is Hussain Al Bagali and he's two Blue Bedouins old. The third installment of this creative genius of an album will be out soon, which is all set to incorporate dance beats. This will be a trilogy sort of move, before he moves on to make dance beat records.

This from a Dj and music lover, who doesn't listen to music in his car and prefers to listen to the sound of the engine himself.

Somethings just can't be said in Mallu

2005-12-28T15:10:00.001+04:00

This here ditty, i found in an issue of a magazine, tucked away in a corner shying away from the acidic remarks it would coax easily from a Mallu. I say Mallu, cause I KNOW that they all agree with the first 3 lines of each paragraph, but never in all their intelligent converstion be able to make the 4th line a thankful or kind sentence. It will always if not everytime end up as a sacarstic, anecdotal joke told in the mallu comic hall of fame as a slap-on-the-back take on life and how in our malluness we keep up 'wit it'!

I am thankful for the husband
who is on the sofa
being a couch potato,
because he's home with me
and not out in the bars

for the wife
who say's it's hot dogs (chor and sambar) tonight,
becasue she is home with me,
and not out with someone else (hot diggety!)

for the teenager
who is complaining about doing dishes
because it means she is at home
not on the streets (most mothers would also end with, "eddi, nanni vennam! Nanni!")

for the taxes i pay
becasue it means i'm employed (NRI's not included!)

for the mess to clean after a party
becasue it means i have
been surounded by friends (i don't even wanna go here!)

for the clothes that fit a little too snug
because it means i have enough to eat.

for my shadow that watches me work
becasue it means i am out in the sunshine

for a lawn that needs mowing
windows that need cleaning
and gutters that need fixing
because it means i have a home.

for all the complaining
i hear about the government
because it means we have freedom of speech..

for the parking spot
i find at the far end of the parking lot
because it means i am capable of walking
and i have been blessed with transportation.

for the lady behind me in church
who sings off key because it means
i can hear (and how!)

and finally, because it means i have
friends who are thinking of me.

Author unknown

Somethings just can't be said in Mallu

2005-12-28T15:10:00.000+04:00

The sky is the thinest film of yoghurt

2005-12-27T17:41:00.000+04:00

I looked up from a research paper and stood open mouthed pen hanging from my lips - the sky was the thinnest film of yoghurt. Spread nice and thin, lace like.

To most it seemed like an ominous reflection of the weather, but i was so taken up with it, my toes curled with delight. I sat down on the floor and continued to the amusement of everyone to stare up into the sky, for as far as the window and the sky would allow me to see, i couldn't see a fresh patch of blue, just a transluscent hint of it under the canopy of curd. IT was a yummy feeling.

i imagined reaching out to scoop some unto my finger and swallow the fluffy mix, i tried to think about why i was doing this. Y'see for the past week or so, i've been getting this weird hunch that the sky's been painting me a picture everytime i look at it. I've never seen the sky this way, ever. Trust me.

And then by dusk, the artwork dissipates into nothing, like it was never there. But it would have lingered for my benefit, a good 4 - 5 hours sustaining me for the worst part of the day.

Yesterday it had patterns, symmettrical in rows, different patterns, nothing the same, and what are the chances of seeing that for 4 hours? Impossible? Believe it.

On the weekend, i put my feet up on the big glass window at home, and suddenly waves of cloud filled my window, with curls, troughs and blinding flashes/sparks of light. It was beautiful.

Ideally, i'd like to believe it has something to do with my name. I recently read that a jewish belief is that your name is a powerful expression of who you are. It communicates a lot more than just a tag to be identified by. They believe strongly, as do i that the name finds you, and not the other way around.

My name was found on stormy skies, there was a raging flood, and the clouds loomed really close, my mother said. Megha - means rain clouds. Dark clouds.

I've known it to rain incessently when i'm extremely upset. Poof, summer turns to drenchville! Just like that. And so the clouds reach out once again, this time - it's different. Can't tell what, but will keep ya posted.

At the Eapens - The Adventure of Christmas Dinner

2005-12-26T19:15:00.000+04:00

A full blown achayathi moment happened last night. Twas the Christmas dinner and uncle eapens house. Nuff said!

I was trying my best to be entertained, i was managing to get my bits of fun, when Ninan uncle and Sunil (from Papua New Guinea) struck up a conversation on export goods with trade tenders. More family of the Eapens began to flow in and so did the liqour. Everyone was rosy cheeked and merry. Cept me and a girl who we'll call the Eapen's DIL (Daughter in Law), cause i kinda like her.

Yeah so DIL is a new mom, she had a pre-term baby, who's called Ethan, Ethan Eapen. Woo Hoo. He's a colicky one, this precious little guy. He's small and tiny and he's coming to terms with this here world and being thrust into the mallu world. It's a tough initiation, i can tell ya.

So, here i am trying to have a conversation with the aunties. I'm doing quite well, asking them about the napkins and their other Christmas dinners which (is always the case) was grander, more fun and a success. They always had the Indian ambassador's PA and other 'well known' celebs and it was always 'the talk of the town'. Yeah.

I managed to not shoot Bacardi Beezer up my nose, and after the 4th and extremely detailed description of Kochumol Aunty's party, i dove straight into the Christmas deco in the tree. It was beautiful, i have to admit. They spared no cost, no bling, no nothing to have that tree fixed. It was pretty.So i played with the flaxen haired angels, poked at the ribbons, pulled at the baubles, spun the cany canes, and i marveled at the colours. It was a good 15 minutes, when the door bell rang and more poured in.

You stand, you say hi, you bow, you blow kisses in the air. Sigh. Dinner wasn't going to be served until 11:00, i knew it instantaneously. I was hungry.

The men folk were getting to be interesting cases in personal anthropological study. Two drinks down and that's when they beging to wax eloquent. They have opinions about 'everything' and all of them are right. No one can be wrong. It started with unions at the Hyaat and Meridian. Mr. Abbey was a new recruit into the social scene. A recent green stick from Cochin, he was new to town, was an apt business conquest, and was mallu! It couldn't have been more propah.

So here he was all mild mannered. Oh, he reminded me of my professor in Manipal (Prof. Mathew!) and a good mix of a quiet man waiting to burst forth with drink. He began in his very prosaic manner to explain how to go about negotiating with demanding unions and how he managed to call off a strike! Then he said the impossible, in a capitalist, consumerist room full of mallus - he said he was socialist. The fangs were beared, everyone was rushing to the bar for a stiff drink as the plotted their solo speeches. Whew, the sense of foreboding was so tangible, man!

Anyway, this is where i decided to exit, i needed some fresh air. With DIL offered to show me to the peaceful part of the apartment. We entered this room, it was all quiet with lamplight. And Ethan Eapen was asleep, well, half askeep. She pulled out this mammoth gold tissue photo album of the wedding and i sank peacefully into the pages - the wedding had one ceremony, two receptions and a lot of free loaders to the first. Geez!

The entire city was there, some of them DIL didn't even know, remember, recall. When i turned page 72, Ethan decided to cry out for me, and she rushed to his side, saying it's okay, and baby boo. I kinda felt weird. I began to wonder how it would be to be a mom.I felt all pudgy and soft, and i actually wanted to hold the little guy. Aww. It lasted for all of 2 minutes.

Then we started to talk, and compare notes on life and life after the Hitch and life in general. And it turns out i knew quite a few people from her workplace. So it was nice, cause it veered to comfortable conversation. Then we started talking about this and that and then suddenly dinner was served - i could smell it and plus the aunties called.

So, when i entered the room, the assault was on full blast, Mr Abbey was completely submerged from all sides with everyone telling him exactly what they thought about the communists, in between you'd hear patient but persistent correctiosn from the man himself, that he wasn't communist, but socialist. Ninan uncle was slapping his right hand over this left in a dismissive gesture (all mallus know this move) telling him just what he thought abou the ice cream parour case and how we needd to learn about the balance of the freedom struggle. Not only did we lose some, but we gained a lot, he said. And in a way, his arguments were compelling. Abbey on the other hand was tryin to quote page 122 of the Socialists Bible. Hmmm...

Dad. Dad was laughing and watching with Sunil in the corner. Both of them had withdrawn to silent spectatorship and were enjoying the show. Ninan uncle is born entertainer. So was Eapen uncle, who quickly ran to the kitchen to sound the alarm for dinner. Dinner brought the respite, and the energy break. Everyone simmered over the points. Some smarting from personal comments. But all in all, by mallu standards it was a concert, people!

What i couldn't get about Mr. Abbey though:

1) Socialist - why would you be working for the next pay cheque to make up for currency exchange

2) Socialist - why would you still kneel when the aramana residents walked down the park path to kiss the ring, if you totally believed in equality and unions

3) what is it with you, that you can't accept therealities of every individual's experiences and that you'd try to ram certain theories down everyone's throat when you're not convinced of them yourself.

I felt sorry for him. Cause one thing was clear, he was a simple man, with very fair values and a sense of deep justice for the world. In Dubai, you've got to learn to balance that with some real stuff like - life.

Theories i learnt the hard way are man made. So is religion. I was glad that i was safely out the race, way before this dinner happened. Whew. Thank you God.

Three different puddings and platter full of fruit later, i sat down to attempt one last half hearted conversation with Abbey's wife, who made it apparent that she hated the Gulf, hated her new life and kept for no apparent reason looking away half way through her conversations with everyone. It was her way of making sure Kochumol aunty wouldn't invite her back. Mission accomplished.

It was time to say good bye (already?!) and we all walked to the door, had a couple of more coversations (tis tradition even when it's not Christmas!) and then finally patted backs and shook hands. Kisses in air were in order, thankfully there weren't too many women who were at the door. So that over, we finally made our way down the hall way to the elevators.

Dad, Abbey, wife, kids and i - Abbey uncle stumbled, dad was walking carefully in his 'i'm-not-drunk-you-are'walk. Wife was disgusted, some more. And the kids were sleepy. Some shifts and uncomfortable grunts/silence (and Abbey uncle getting off on the 3rd floor and insisting it was the ground floor) in the elevator later, we were down and we said bye cordially.

Walked to our car, dad and i burst out laughing together when i said. "Ninan uncle was..." and we drove home.

Merry Christmas y'all.

It ain't over son

2005-12-20T13:51:00.000+04:00

I wrote a letter to my brother, not too long ago and i realised that i took my dark moments for granted like no one's business. I shot out some very deep stuff about family and God to him. The irony lies in how easily i was all to push all of that to the background when it came to some very important parts of my life.

It's all there somehow, hanging like a big binch of grapes. Plump with the knowledge and wisdom that is mine for the taking, if only i'd reach out and pluck.

Maternal instincts can be a bitch when you're a sister. Your torn between the two personalities. The one my brother and i like and the one that's hard wired into me (and keeps popping up without a warning!). Try as i might, balancing the two has landed me on my bum a lot of times. And despite the sore episodes, i still continue to worry for him.

Tis quite natural, most tell me. And then they quizzically look at me and ask - where i'm going with this.

My answer to that would be no where to prove a point, if that's what you're aking; but to be able to just voice my thought process and see where it can take yours.

I admire the fact that i'm able to acknowledge that i get all frumped up about my kid brother (he's no kid nemore). Most would constantly either hide behind the glorified title and others would just justify the bloody deal with just a shrug and a walk-off.

Here's the thing, Aj and i shared a friendship as well. Y'see that's where it gets messed up. Siblings can be friends, but when you take that and try to make it into something that's only convinient to your pompous self, then the issue begins to germinate into a full scale 'BLAH'.

I do take responsibility only to the point that i tried to use my position as an elder sister to get some points straight across and it back fired. Badly. I was too wrapped up with my life, to be able to sit down and dissect the issues like we used to. The surface was scratched.

Another thing is the combination of him being my brother, a man and a friend. He was hurt, only this time, we couldn't make peace by visiting each other's rooms and slipping notes under the door, or barging anyway and settling the issue once and for all. He was miffed in his tetosternony way and i was well, already getting enough that! Geez!

He was miles away, i was miles away. All we had is a telephone. The miscommunication on one these contraptions is so collosal....i don't even want to go there.

anyway, so A, B, C - we're here now. Miles apart physically, and the bond languishingi in limbo. Cause the calls are expensive and the rest of family/friends (yeah, tell me about it!) needs to lend in their two bits of advice, before we can even start to have a conversation.

And so, until i meet him, i just don't see this here wound closing. We talk, we still joke, but we both know that we have some things to say to each other, and so what else we share is just = small talk.

Interestingly, i'm looking forward to it. Even if it has it's fair share of spark and fire. It will. It should.

In the letter, i list a few things i didn't want him to forget in life. Some of the things we had in focus, but we both lost sight of, after awhile. I can say safely, that i'm making my way back to grace, with those things again. Aj, well he's got some stuff blocking his view. And i know there's ample blood throbbing in the male bastions while i say this (yes, he knows what he's in and can deal with it) BUT...he isn't willing to acknowledge that it's a deep well he's free falling into.

I tried, i failed. I let my maternal back-up take over. Why? Don't f*&^ing ask me, why! I wish i knew. I don't.

This isn't over bro. You know it isn't.

Overwhelmed with a propah noun

2005-12-19T08:13:00.000+04:00

It's not everyday you get to stand back and take a birds eye view at your life. I got a strange but very raw taste of it when I was signing Christmas cards at the office. Ironically, I'm close to 2 weeks old here (overwhelming, cause I still think it's just yesterday I was walking in and being introduced to everyone) and I'm signing Christmas cards cause tis what you do when you're part of a team. This is contact building, an unofficial way of introducing yourself.

You'll have everyone at the receiving end of those cards looking at your name funny, and thinking - hey, new girl! Alright! OR hey, new person, hmmmm....wonder if I can get more freebies...alright!

Anyway.

So I'm signing these cards, yeah? And half way through the Lifestyle pile, I'm saying my name as I sign 'em, kind of trying to keep myself occupied. When the moment hits me. Bird's eye view. Megha. Meg.ha. Megha. - I keep saying this over and over and realize that it's not everyday when you look at your name and repeat it slowly for around 50 odd times and suddenly you're looking at yourself, your name suddenly takes on such a new dimension of importance.

you begin to think what people think, when they read your name, you begin to think of the possible images they could have of you in their head, their expectation when they're gonna meet you for the first time, the preconceived hair type, skin and clothes. The reaction when they see you.

So if you're Megha, it sounds northish, it sounds like she's this jhola bag type, the writer, the extra sophisticate PR person, the friendly girl next door (can a Megha be a girl next door?) Hmmmm....nope!

And then you don't know the name anymore, by now you've said it more than a 100 times, and you're wondering who you really are. Whether you embodied the name well enough. Did you do justice to it. It's suddenly a new found responsibility. Many people really don't see much into their names. I know I didn't for the longest time. I mean I had versions of it being flung around everywhere. So many times the syllables would be lost in familiarity. Meg, Meghe, Mig, Maggie (I hate this one!), Migha (trust the phirangs to do this!), Maigha, Moigha, hey, listen, yo, hello, moale (mallu for beti), mol (shortform of the previous, yes we have them too!), kutta (sweety in mallu), eliammo, pay attention, listen up....see?

Yuo're not you anymore, your just part of the landscape. Another being in the wheel, another person. You're not you. and the worst part is, you get used to blending into the bland, and then you sort of come to expect it. Now, I'm not saying your name is supposed to give you an epiphany here. Nope, sorry. But what I am trying to say is that somehow, your name means a lot more to you than anyone else. It kind of stands for something, not just what it means, yeah? It's what it brings to you.

Forgetting it, is the first lesson we learn. Atleast I did. Until I signed those cards. To each his own share of personally enlightening experiences. But I do believe, my name took on a larger than life importance after that.

I have this great story of how I came to be named Megha.

Tomorrow. Is another day.

Brain Storms

2005-12-15T11:23:00.000+04:00

Picture this, 8 people sitting in a room, having brainstorms. Everyone's got this motley group of dark clouds over their heads, they're hunched over, heads wet from the rain, some dry for lack of creativity. Their eyes knotted in a stitch over the possibility of implementing something crazy. Everyone's staring out the window or looking at a patch on the wall. Lightening strikes the bald thinkers, shiny pates have the tendency to attract them bolts in this office and then it bounces off other people's foreheads.

The rain is slipping down people shirts and skirts, forming pools at the feet of the ergonomic chairs, girl with a curl starting drawing water circles with her feet, distracted, not completely here, but wet with ideas of her own.

It's a beautiful and yellow outside, everything is marvelous, people have things to do for the weekend. Ours doesn't start until tomorrow. Sometimes, things like this tend to happen. Now i have the Sunday blues. Monday is closer to the weekend ironically.

Boistrous bitch twirls her favourite candy wrapper into a twisty butterfly, completely pissed off with the ideas, which = hers are always better. In her own head the storm is turning volcanic. The top of her head is giving off a bit of steam. And i can detect the palest tinge of red - orange. It's only a matter of a few minutes, we're gonna have to run for cover.

earthy/sexy 'paki' girl, is having her storm of calm. She has a small smile and a picture of 'her little lady'in her lap. When you've got something that cute staring up at ya, it's hard not to have a smile on your face. She's got a pleasant drizzle happening. Some of her ideas are very flower power like. But they work, these are the ideas that sustain you to the next big bang. Money talks for her, cause most of them are her clients.

The white chicks are animated as usual. Constantly blowing things into the air, making bubbles from the soap that's forthing with the rain. They never run out soap. Bleached bone ideas, but they make sure the weekend frees up for their regular trots and discovery. It's all about the weekends and a probable raise.

I'm completely soaked. Got my ideas running rivulets through the office. By nwo i would have had a standing ovation for the launch, and somehow, a sense of peace really calms me to the point where i know that jumping the gun isn't the way into this league. There is a even a good possibility that i don't want in. I like the coversations i'm able to have with these guys, the coffee the lunch and the work i'm responsible for. I like what i'm being able to achieve, at my pace. I mean what is the rush for? Somehow, getting stuff done in relation to be being able to reach out is suddenly so important. Hmmmm.

So i do the right thing like stone cold sleepy mama and come in during the pregnant pauses, something like the thunder. It kind of makes everyone sit up and nod, and agree and then they add that to the list and then it's cacaphony for the next 15 minutes. Some more of boisterous bitch, some mroe stone cold sleepy mama, some more of lightening pates (they could have a basketball team!) and we're all good to go.

Until psyched out decides to speak up - in her silky, near whisper voice. She's got that look in her eye again. Saudi beckons to the South african. She's dry.

Post lunch sessions can be really warped.

The feeling of a sense of lack

2005-12-14T16:54:00.000+04:00

the silence is killing me. In my head i can't seem to notch up the points. The sense of lack is back.

Everyone seems to have a verbose way of putting things on thier space, it feels warm and fuzzy, like you can feel the clack of the keys, feel what they're feeling. They speak like they're sitting across from you, they feel so close, so personal.

they're trips, they're words, they're emotions. It's all there, spilled. My visits to different pages of personal, make me think so much about mine.

Tis the sense of lack again. Knocking.

Most the time, the sense of lack is masked inside, in a boorish statement, in a negated part of my psyche. Y'know?

I haven't heard from my Big brotha in a while. Don't know if he's out travelling, or in a different part of the world with no access to cyberspace. Tis is the sense of lack again. I wonder if he's miffed, last i checked, he was there. I miss him.

My lil brothas are missing too. Don't where they are - i guess all of this is a collective pile up. of the sense of lack i mean. There's no communication. None of it. Where are you sista? You missing too....

Sigh.

It's been a week. Officially, new job and all. Tis good. I like it. So far.
But my sense of lack now permeates into a different part of me. I'm allowing it to access a very protected place, and i know that i will need to do something drastic to snap out of it. Where are the friends i was promised, the glittering social life, the people to meet, the time to spend doing sweet nothings? WHERE?!

Suggestions for drastic, please.

Someone....anyone?

Flash! I'm having a vision.

2005-12-07T17:22:00.000+04:00

It's not everyday i can concoct these stories so plush with detail, that i can't help but tell it. the deatails are all in my head and i can't really recollect them in verbose. Some of the embellishments are a personal touch! It lasted the entire 'gurkha shift' of the radio. So let's call it a story, let's call this a situation. Let's call this anything you want to call it really.

It happened over a few mind numbing realities, and a couple of stiff points pointed out. It happened when i was numb and zoned out in my car. i was being driven home and then the radio switched on to smooth jazz. It was 10 'o clock. The search was heavily on for a car wash. That's when it happened. a technicoloured dream unfolded across the windscreen, and i slumped into it thankful and very aware that i was letting go.

I mean times were when long drags could do the trick, i was getting this for free. So i wasn't going to be the one to complain. heheh. Ride on.

It's a noisy jazz bar, instruments are being tuned and there's a heavy kind of smoke in the air. It's a jazz bar. My favourite people walk in (you know who you are!). I'm a vision - half latin diva / half indian princess. i'e got long hair and i've got a scarf half done in a turban, long dress, feet bare, and sitting on one of the most comfortable stools. you only get them at jazz bars. the old school kind.

The moment i see them, i break into song, it's a slow and practiced way of setting the tempo for the evening. No matter how many times i take the stage, i just can't seem to get that thrill out of my head, when i know a song will hit home with the people i know will get it.

So i belt out the sweet notes of "I want a sunday loving". It's a road-trip of a different kind. After my session with the keys, i join my favourite people, share a couple of drinks, and sit in the corner with a cordless microphone, accompanying talented others on the seconds and the mixture of alto and sop.

And as Louie plays his famed frenzy on the keys signaling end of act one, i blow kisses, plant one on the bald bouncer, and we're out the door to the many musicial dens of old. Until after each person's satiated being smile in unison that we're done for the night. Or is it day?

I'm in the middle of a carwash now, and i sit up in a stupor of not knowing when i got there. It's not automated, it's too darn late to find one now. And as the automated gun spashes jets of water on the windscreen, i can't help but smile.

Tis a trip i liked. I thank ye sista for being awake with me over the month, for sleepless nights spent in conversation, and a stolen swig of wine. I thank ye for the insight, i thank you for the shared happiness in finding that the trips can be much better. Wot say?

I conclude, verily that from lack of sleep, and a concerted effort to foray into the unknown is an enlightening journey. and boy did i dig it!

Slump.

One Nimit, please.

2005-11-01T15:14:00.000+04:00

I always thought that it was highly improbable that more than one person would say this to me. It wasn't until the launderer's assistant said it to me on the phone, that i knew i had something.

One nimit, please.

Get it yet?

Yeah :), i know!

Having linguistics as a subject (not too long ago!) got me thinking on how the English language has evolved into a fix-me-upper syntax that fits right in to our figure of speech.

Choose thy language. Fight!

Nimit if deconstructed, draws it's strains from Nimishum (which is 'moment' in Sanskrit) and the word Minute. Which when fitted together forms Nimit! So it could take a moment, or a minute. So we've got it covered. In India, you always have to have room to speculate. Nimit takes the cake! :)

But do we really? So what did we call a minute in our languages, before the British invaded? Hmmm...

My mother can't imagine what the word would be in Malayalam (we're talking to a lady who finished school in a Malayalam medium before moving on to writing answer scripts in English at College!). What is a minute in Gugurati? Hindi? Tamil? Bhojpuri, perhaps?

No? Can't think of it?

Personally, i'd love to know. If i were to give it a nimit, minute isn't exactly the only word we'd be replacing in our regular everyday speech. We have so many other words, which everyone from the store keeper to our electrician uses.

Here's a few:

- Alaarum (mallu) in place of Alarm in English.

- Radio, TV, doctor, operation, file, computer, disc, news, newspaper, car (vandi in mallu), perfume (scent!), mobile, pager,photograph, driver, bomb, cable, hotel, road, market, police, cable, colony, railway, quarters, medical college, names of the month, fan, air-conditioner, switch, squad, shopping centre, mall, watch, vote, depression, counselling, hotline, telephone, pre-paid, vouchers, cheque, circle inspector, brush, shirt, shoes, express, bus, railway, service, bag, taxi, driver, set up (mallus unite!), animation, cartoon, cinema, film, simple, technical, machine, mixie, marks, results, ticket, clock (which brings me to the time, will you look at that!) - WHEW!

If you have any else that comes to mind, do post!

So take a nimit, smell the flowers. Life is your guru (Awwwrrk!). Guru? Say, is there an English word for that?

Ciao y'all...

Despite the Despite.

2005-10-31T15:07:00.000+04:00

Domestic violence. Tis without a doubt something one mulls about alone. It has been a recurring nightmare, it has been a scary thought. It is dreaded, and yet, it is silently endured by millions of women. Working women. Homemakers. Daughters. Mothers. Wives.

As i step into a new phase in my life, i consider partners and somehow my mental anguish drives me to check on family first. Odd. I'm marrying the man aren't i? But what maketh the man?

As we glide down the aisle to gasps and rustling silk, the euphoria is mixed with the spice of dread, with the yellow of fear, with the rush of adrenaline and inky black which is unknown. Looking up at him, you're thinking, "for better or worse...Who am i kidding here?"

Does is warrant a woman to bear the brunt of unfair petulance if the male's concept of food is not found on the table. Is it warranted if she doesn't go down on him enough? When she speaks her mind? When he thinks it's needed to keep things in check (also read as 'there was no other way, i tried everything else')? Is it warranted? Period.

Today, with the kind of media coverage and exposure to the world and it's events, things aren't a secret anymore. One of the pioneers of feminism took 5 years or more to get out of her violent marriage, while her views and blood rousing theory permeated into the society and spawned many others to begin a movement. Today we can be proud and say we definitely have it better. It's out there, the knowledge, the self help groups, the shelters. The unsure future. Not enough of it. But it's there. So is that a good sign?

So is it a time for us to heave sigh of relief or continue to be worried? Despite the despite, we're all still potential victims. I read an article on Krav Maga (Hebrew for contact combat) and i began to make mental notes to myself. I have to sign up. You can never tell what could happen.

You never know. In your quest for the 40 years together, something could snap. Or am i taking this too seriously? Can this be my way of preparing against, what i witnessed? What i have seen, heard and shared? Is it possible that in my formative years a steady but heavy dose of anger and a keen eye to take someone's innards out, make me more prepared. Am i prepared?

I sometimes lapse into a deep state of dark. I think of the worst that could happen to me. I think of being beaten, i think of being bruised, battered even. And i slump against the cupboard, heaving. I taste the salt in my blood, and i imagine the whole injustice of the arrangement. And all i can do is sob, a heavy, desperate and lonely sob.

I sometimes imagine kicking mid-violence, and hitting soft gut, of kicking the air out of the perp's lungs, and then a mad, blunt and determined punch to the throat. I imagine standing over and finally seeing what dead really is. And i spit in contempt.

I hope i never have to resort to any of the two. Cause i know it will be a twist of both. Latter. Definitely. One cannot imagine the drive i have. I can't fathom the whole feeling myself. It's that deep. It's that ingrained. To fend for myself.

"If i don't love you. God help you. If i do. Then there's hope."

We call them mothers and many times we take so much of their lives for granted. And when you hit womanhood, the can of worms begin to spill. They're everywhere. And then after it's all out in the open. They smile, sigh and shake their heads trouncing off to make lunch. Leaving you in a perpetuated vortex of horrible. You shake from outrage, you sit there stumped for expression. And then it seeps into you - cold, tar-like fear. What if? What would i do?

I don't fear the consequences of walking out. I don't fear what the world would say about me. I do not think that there is reason enough (not even in religion) to put up with that. I do not believe that a woman needs to stay in it for the kids. I don't believe the kids would want that either.

Even if it says that a woman comes from man, or even it says we're to consider ourselves below the male. Or even if we did hand you the Apple. There isn't enough anywhere to make up for it. No reason on earth or the third dimension. No matter what it is. I'm sure there's a lot more to it than just Chapter X. Vs x - y. There's more to it.

For those of you who sit at the table. At the head. If you believe that it is your right. Then believe this. That there will be a backlash. To everything that is taken for granted. There is a full circle.

And may you be at the recieving end of it.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Post-trance like state - I do believe in the good of humanity, and i do believe that i will find someone who isn't the kind to 'let-the-belt-do-the-talking'. I do know that there are families who have had a more realistic approach to things in life, and that guys know better. Think and feel. That they have a more open and loving attitude.

I used to have a vague idea of what i would want my partner to be. It's not that anymore. It's changed. Now, i know what i want. No ideas, no borrowed or sugar coated possibilities.

I know. But i had to write this. So...yeah.

Later.

The Emperor of Ice-cream

2005-10-30T18:16:00.000+04:00

Call the roller of big cigars
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
as they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last months newspapers.
Let it be the finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

Wallace Stephens
'Emperor of Ice-cream'

_______________________

The latest on my indulgence list is LUSH. Sweet mother of heaven, this is definitely something that is setting my senses on fire, and i'm just reading the descriptions and i'm going nuts! Yaaah! Will definitely indulge when the moolah is raked. Yummm. Every day. Sigh! Whenever i can. (Okay you get the picture!)

Over and out.
_______________________

The Universe - cont'd

2005-10-30T18:15:00.000+04:00

______________________

My mind and me: Like Pizpot Gargravarr explains in length.

"I think we were probably not very well suited," said Gargravarr again at length; "we never seemed to be happy doing the same things. We always had the greatest arguments over sex and fishing. Eventually we tried to combine the two, but that only led to disaster, as you can probably imagine. And now my body refuses to let me in. It won't even see me..."

He paused again tragically.

" It says i only inhibit it. I pointed out that in fact i was meant to inhabit it, and it said that that was exactly the sort of smart alec remark that got right up a body's left nostril, and so we left it. It will probably get custody of my forename."

"Oh...?" said Zaphod faintly. "And what's that?"

"Pizpot," said the voice. "My name is Pizpot Gargarvarr. Says it all really, doesn't it?"

"Errr...." said Zaphod sympathetically.

______________________

At that moment another dismal scream rent the air and Zaphod shuddered.

"What can do that to a guy? he breathed.

"The Universe," said Gargravarr simply, "the whole infinite Universe. The infinte suns, the infinite distances between them and yourself an invisible dot, infinitely small."
______________________

The Universe

2005-10-29T15:20:00.000+04:00

Pieces from a Book i trip on - The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy

The Universe, as has been observed before, is an unsettlingly big place, a fact which for the sake of a quiet life most people tend to ignore.

Many would happily mov to somewhere rather smaller of their own devising, and this is what most beings in fact do.

Exotic though this behaviour may seem, there is no life form in the Galaxy which is not in some way guilty of the same thing, which is they Total Perspective Vortex is as horrific as it is. For when you are put into the Vortex, you are given just one momentary glimpse of the entire unimaginable infinity of creation, and somewhere in it a tiny marker, a microscopic dot on a microscope dot, which says "You are here."

______________________

The Total Perspective Vortex derives its picture of the whole Universe on the principle of extrapolated matter analyses. To explain - since every piece of matter in the Universe, it is in theory possible to extrapolate the whole of creation -- every sun, every planet, their orbits, their composition and their economic and social history from, say one piece of fairy cake.

The man who invented the TPV did so basically in order to annoy his wife.

"... if life is going to exist in a Universe of this size, then the one thing it cannot afford to have is a sense of proportion."

The Song that best describes me

2005-10-28T19:26:00.000+04:00

Well, we've all got a song. Here's mine.

Squint your eyes a little bit closer. I'm not between you and your ambition.
I'm a postergirl with no poster. I'm 32 flavours and then some.

And i'm beyond your peripheral vision.
So you might want to turn your head.
Someday i'm gonna get hungry and eat up all of the words that you just said.

I am. What i am.
I am 32 flavours and then some.

God help you if you are ugly, girl. Or stupid is also your tone.
Cause everyone harbours a secret hatred for the prettiest girl in the room.

God help you if you a phoenix and if you dare to rise up from the ash.
A 1000 eyes will smoulder with jealousy while you are just flying. Away.

I am. What I am.
I am 32 flavours and then some...
Taking my chances as they come.

I am 32 flavours and then some...
I am no one but i am somone one.

I never try to give my life meaning by demeaning you.
And i'd like to state for the record i did everything that i could do.

I am beyond your peripheral vision.
So you might want to turn your head.
Someday you're gonna be starving and eating up all the words that you just said.

That you said...

I am. What i am.
I am 32 flavours and then some.
Taking my chances as they come.

I am 32 flavours and then some.
Seeking the truth but there is none.

I am 32 flavours and then some.
Never forget where i come from.

I am 32 flavours and then some.
I an no one, but i am someone.

The Sajan Kurikose Story

2005-10-18T11:55:00.000+04:00

Over the past few months, cases of death, killing and suicide have abounded in the papers, giving the once 'safe haven' and justice driven city into a shaky foundation, with absolutely no resolution, or assurance of the truth.
__________________________________________________________________________

It's the typical case of whodunit? Man found in the boot of his car at Al Nasr Cinema four days ago. No one knows how he died, but there are some fishy loops being explored.

Sajan Kuriakose, was found dead in the boot of his own car, on the 14th of October. After a rushed phone call to his wife Suni,telling her that he would pick her up on his way home. He never arrived, and a search hunt resulted in Kuriakose's body being discovered in one of the most busiest and popular spots in Dubai city.

His body now lies in a shroud of mystery as police, hospital officials and a distrught family try to understand this tragedy. Sections of the press has had a field day with the speculation as claims of suicide, false forensic reports, and a tall order of mental instability do the rounds. It's impossible really. The truth still avoids distraught widow Suni, who spoke to the press officially only today (18th Oct,2005), defending her husband and denying the false reports that have branded her husband a mentally instable suicide victim. His wife and family angered over the speculation decided to come forward to clear Sajan's name of the false allegations.

The 33 year old Indian computer programmer's last call to his wife, was a hurried one. Suni said he sounded scared. The family was allowed access to the body only yesterday and was only allowed to see his face. The rest of his body was covered with a shroud, and they were not allowed to touch him. It has been confirmed that no post mortem was carried out on the body. And yet...forensic reports confirm his suicide. Problem no.1.

Futher investigation and official statements from Suni reveal that her husband, that two of his colleagues (Javed and Susan) were being questioned on possible embezzlement charges. Sajan also claimed that someone had hacked into his computer files, and he wasn't aware of what exactly ws going on, but that he was safe. Was he really? Problem no.2.

Threads being explored: Rumours of a gang that kills on hire are doing the rounds, with the MO being slitting throats. Sajan's body was covered, no one knows how he was killed/how he died. Was he murdered by a hired gang?

That fateful Thursday he left for work. The last time Suni heard from him was when he told her he would pick her up on his way home.

The Kurikose's family and parish have been a pillar of support during this time, and Suni has been a picture of deep anguish and determined calm through the entire ordeal. The staff from Sajan's workplace (AST Trading) haverefused to comment so far on the matter.

The mystery continues...the watch remains.

It now boils down the point of whether expatriates can seek justice in a world they once sought for financial stability and a better future. With dubious reports, and no comments, and a possible quick wrap up of events (which is the most expected...), will Suni ever know how her husband of nine years died?

With funeral preparations, relocation and financial procedures to be taken care of, will the UAE justice and police department leave this case to die it's natural death?

Followup (Pending):

The Kiwi juice case, where another expatriate Indian couple, died of mysterious poisoning is yet to see any development, as the Indian cousulate tries in vain to move any paperwork or push for possible answers in the deluge that is the current justice and investigation system. Is this a new turn of events and responsibility for the city's crime fighting teams? Only time will tell.

Spot my favs

2005-10-14T23:24:00.000+04:00

You've gotta love, maska pav. It's succulent, small bite sized sanwiches that give the right fix when your stomach does the churn! Oh, and there's more actually, there's bakes, melt in your mouth garlic bread and i will not under any circumstances leave out the dates banana and cream. Mmmm Mmmm!

I hit upon this place, when iftar hours were offically in session. It's called the Midnight Cafe (and every mallu would understand this, like no other) and owned by a friend's wife's brother in law (like i said, only a mallu would understand the connection!). It's the smallest cafe and like it's punchline - with a lot! It's exactly one room small, houses a kitchen (fully equipped) with 3 staff, and two tables with four chairs on the pavement. What makes it's special is for one, the menu. And second, the kind of simple, yummy options and the fact that it's always open till midnight - no matter the occassion, the reason or the weather. I love that in a place.

So what have we got? western fast food menu with an indian twist. And so...we've got sandwichs, clubs, subs, hot dogs, meal deals (which consist of bakes and 4 different types of fried chicken), 2 soups on the menu, seven garlic bread options (chili cheese and salami - a must mention), salads, pizzas, burgers, beverage, dessert and a partridge in pear tree!

Now if you take a good look at that, you'd probably think that every single small shop has this on offer - and i'd say i'd beg to differ. Let me explain, and for those who get it, you're the only ones who deserve to enjoy the fruits of intellect. Take a walk down MG road, and past the blinking lights and the fast cars into the side roads that offer the real treasure of a quick bite, as you pass the savoury carts with roasting corn and spiced peanuts in paper cups, the waft of a small jazz cafe draws you unto the well loved and roamed Church street, and it is here, the many chilled out zones splays itself out unto the pavements with Brother Rozario's sax playing in the background, you get to pick on a menu that by far offers you a fare, that not only gets your palate bursting, but your senses waiting for a very familiar home-like ease, which no Johnny Carino, or India Palace can offer you. Trust me...this menu? is da bomb. Tis the real thing, yo.
And so, as you bite into the soft bread/the wheat wrap/the slush of beautiful juice that wraps around some of the most amazing concoctions you can think of; One gets that sense of jazz by the asphault, and man...it's good to be home.

Visit www.midnightcafe.ae
And oh, brotha/sista found Gafoorka's mess last night ;) - now this is da nuclear bomb, wot say?

I'm smiling like a cat that got more than it's fair share of creaaaammmm....;J

Other places we should do a round of:
Simran's Appam Kadai - those appams are to drool for and please (oh!please) try the mango prawn curry...tralaalalala!

Muah y'all...

i'm all misty...sniff...

2005-10-10T13:11:00.000+04:00

No, i'm not here to diss this whole concept. Apart from the fact that it's so outdated, it's also currently a fad to give it a thought. When loves runs out on you, what else do you do, but to take up your yoke and try out the method that you abhorr. Sure, it's embarrassing. It has to be, bad enough you have to swallow your pride. Ahem...

And so, the marriage markets open it's doors to your very sore being, as your trudge past the caskets of resumes and profiles, your parents (picture this in slow mo) are running amok in the crowds, dizzy from excitement, shaking hands with the vendors, clicking on free kiosks, uploading your details and smiling (widely) at everyone, nodding their heads toward you with pride, and probably hugging you more than they used to, kissing you, telling you what a good child you are.

Snap!

Urgh, well that isn't exactly the scenario really. Marriage is and always will be a step in the life of an individual. You run out of juice with the folks, you come of your own and the next natural biological, psychological step would be to look for a mate. Some find it on their own, other let the parents do it, and some others now use the technology we call the wide web. Some others, very different from the rest, mesh all the three to find love, acceptance, blessing and life together.

Hmmm...

Which one am i? Honestly, i'm a gazpacho of everything. i'm a wounded soldier, battle scarred and limping into a hospice where laid down to rest among the other brave, i battle it out with my mind wondering what the bloddy hell, just went wrong here? No answers so far. Ah well...
Well i wouldn't really relegate this little mishap to an Ah well status, but what can one honestly do, eh? I'm laid bare, inards scattered for all to see. I'v detested the whole arranged marriage concept really. Cause what i've seen of it, has been pretty pathetic, so i just assumed - it isn't for me.

Over time, it has changed, y'know. Things are a lot more open and discussed, and the good thing is your choice counts this time. And that's heartening. So, officially, i'm on the market. My profile is doing the rounds, and yet....i can't let some tuggy feeling out my mind. Maybe it's my fantasy person again, coming up from all the murky experiences, and sending out telepathic messages - hehehe.

I never did really let got of my fairy tale meeting. I can picture it.

I'm walking down this Hyde Park lookalike place (well maybe it is Hyde park, i'm not sure!).

It's lonely, the streets are packed with people strolling by with not a care for who's around them, i'm a nobody here, i've something in my hands, it could be an umbrella or maybe it's bag, and as i walk on the side streets, looking at the trees, and the occassional loner with a book, pet or lover - i suddenly stop look to the right and turn. No apparent reason. I start working (right turn taken) my way through the leaves, the dog poo and the occassional frisbee and then i see a tree, it's large, oaky (i'm not good with types of trees, flora and fauna scientifics!) and i stop.

There's a bench - and there's someone on it. It's a he of course!!!! (Geez). And then i don't know, it mists up again. Now i'm not sure, given NLP, and hypnotherapy being quite popular, whether it's from another lifetime, or whether it's the future. I can't really see his face, i can sense it, i kind of have a very hard boom booming of the heart, i feel like i've found something very significant (it's never happened before so i obviously know that it's a big deal). There's a smile, and i do sit down, it's like it was meant to happen. I haven't a clue after that. I just hope it's not after i'm married with kids, and a husband! I trust God wouldn't be that cruel to me. I know he wouldn't do that.

So if you're out there, i'll see you at Hyde Park, yeah?

Ah well! Camels to Cadillacs - wot can you expect?

2005-10-06T15:52:00.000+04:00

Yeah, it's the age old sigh. We let loose those two words of pathetic every single time, life lets up on us. Ah well!

Did life let up on me? You betcha, it always does, doesn't it? I mean think about. Did something piss me off today? Of course it did, i mean why would i be in such prosaic mood, if something unfair didn't take place.

You know i'm sitting in a city veiled (don't mind me or the pun!), with a deep disrespect for core human values and people (south asian, and anyone else with a slower, weaker currency - freakonomics! The science of applying economics to everything makes total sense!). Sure, they've got it all right on the paper, and my apologies to the one's who practice what they preach, but truly,the rest of clan, here, isn't doing something right.

I could wax eloquent, but then why bother?; as this remains a rant, a cry into a ravine so deep, that ravine is not a word anymore, it's state of being. I'm falling in a city, where the colour rush is deeper than just a word or an attitude, it's practice(and my, with what open pride i might add)!

Your expertise and contribution could just be limited to the fact that you're baubled to the right degree, have a thick (ridiculous!) accent of exotica arablish, and enough jewellry to bling any fellow homosapien into kingdom come. One such creature got my job, the one i'm supposed to be working on and making a success (teeth in a clench - everytime i think about it!). I'm being blung (with the bling, remember?), right now, into the wide open spaces that i'd like to call 'Of No Recovery'. From what? How's inequality for starters? From deep set culture misconceptions and a blatant disregard for south asians. Heheeh...no, i'm not cleaning the slate...this is a mind war.

One waged with single minded determination and a very hard running approach to the way life unfolds itself in the deserts of the United Arab. You know, it's helpful. It's gotta be. The Oil, the camel to cadillac progression, the sheer disregard for the the ones with the dawdling foreign exchange (Hail white trash, dollars, euro and single minded focus to use the abused till they retaliate!).

Nice going on the unpaid wages for 6 months, by the way, i mean where else in the world do you get away with such injustice, or should i say, complacency? It took 1000s of starving ematiated workers to walk down the middle of Shiekh Zayed Road to drive the point home, eh? And gee, would you look at that - they're all south asians and pakistanis and your handful of other scorched in the inhumane conditions!

You're right, as long as you have control over the $ per barrel, why wouldn't you sit with your dresses pulled high, legs and feet a mesh of comfortable on your car dashboards while you let the air conditioning do what it needs to do. I have to tell ya, the seed bags really need some cooling, and the airconditioning isn't really cutting it for ya. No, really!

There is a cause and effect cycle though. The one i call sweet retribution, and it isn't far off. so go ahead choose the ditzy over the determined, choose the easy way while you can, obviously you're all on one big f*&^ing holiday ever since the bedouins divided and ruled, and lo behold a sky scraper! Hmmm...if it were only so easy.

I feel sorry for the multi nationals that operate in such slip shod conditions where the real jobs are veiled and underpaid, while the embellishments, walk in and out of their dreams, like it's one big stupid party. Some day....some sweet day, reality will bite, and i hope it bites down HARD.

Reaching out

2005-09-05T11:18:00.000+04:00

It's not every day, really. I mean think about it, here we are, most of the time existing in our own bubble wondering if we'll ever really, reach out and touch something meaningful in our lives, and sometimes life gets in the eay, yeah? So here we are in a state of limbo, my online radio stations refuse to cough up the music in one straight unadulterated speed, and between the bursts of music, i wax eloqunt, and continue with my white ear phones, stuck in my ears, with no music, but the 'ding' and 'blimp' of error messages, and other prescheduled tasks interupting me, on and off.

Recently, after the 2 and half months of sadness, and regret of coming to Dubai, i turned to a spirutual soloce that ironically one only finds when you're in the lowest low, and highest breach of sanity. I won't say that i was extremely jobless, i wasn't. employment, isn't the only way of keeping yourself occupied, and interestingly, i had lots to do, i could have wailed, bemoaned my fate, made life difficult for the people around me, but i chose to slump into solitude, and find a peice of myself i hardly knew. Now, before you think this is my testimony, i'd like to object and say that truthfully, it's not. I'm not about to go start a revolutionary, done to death DIY of how to find nirvana.

In essence i haven't found that, but i have found peace and a working knowledge of what exactly we should sweat it out for. And what matters. I haven't seen my brother in such a long time. And there are so many reasons why he broke off ties to start osmething on his own. He snapped. Nothing wrong about it, but why it happened, is serious. Reaching out is my way of telling him i care, telling him that i'm sorry that i've been so pushy and that i won't treat him like a child ever again. There are somethings people have the guts to do, that everyone was born to achieve and staying away from it is the only wrong you could do to yourself. Now, i am not in anyway, promoting one of those lose your control policies. But the journey you take, is a lonely one. You meet, greet, compete and co-exist with people along the way, and then you move on. But the ones that last are the ones you keep reaching out to.

My brother is the one who lasts, for me. He's a reason why i believe in miracles, in self sufficiency, in turning around the bad for the good. And so launched a blog. for him. In hope that sometime when he's surfing the web looking for posts, jobs or mails, he will go to this page, to see the things that have and are happening in his family, to make sure he comes back with the knowledge that he didn't miss out on anything, but is a part of it, even if he was far away. I know he'll be back with us, very soon. And that he'll want to come back and that we'll want to go to him as well. And so the love endures and that my friends is the true essence, no matter how swank, hip, or heartless you term yourself to be.

Cheers.

And so the story goes...

2005-07-15T13:30:00.000+04:00

It's been quite awhile since my last diatribe. Yeah. And now here i am, stuck 3 and half hours in another time zone, surrounded by sand, heat (47 degrees on an avg!) and my parents. All shacked up in a small one bedroom studio. You may ask why i'm doing this to myself, and then a small voice out from an obscure hemisphere cries out, cause i had to...not exciting, i know.

But then think about it.

And so in my own conculsional way, i decided to give it up. It's my decision, and my blog, so i will gnaw away at my sorrow anyway. I'm okay (thanks for asking!) and somewhere deep down i have lost a chunky piece of me. I mean which one of you in your right mind wouldn't. I am wiser though (despite the wisdom, it does bite. Hard.) and i guess that should make up for it (?). I guess i'll never know.

I'm 26, quite full ideas and searching for a job in the Manhattan of the East. Where the whites and the extra European still enoy their fair share of new age colonialism. The whiter you are the better your chances. Money, lesser work hours and healthy work life balance are all yours in the Manhattan of the East.

If you're wheatish - well, bite down on your tongue. You don't qualify. Sure you could be limbing up a scaffold (masters degree, tucked safely under your sweaty armpit - don't forget the 47 degrees!), shoving cement into the needed crevice. I guess this is the only space you get the voice the pain really. We're in a global village now, so we have to say nice things about each other, or a war could break out and $60 per barrel wouldn't really matter as much as this. Trust me. We all have to smile through the bulls%*^. Cause Shit will Happen.

And so with that multimillion dollar phrase, we sit back and enjoy the blinking ride, because there's no else, who wants to be Gandhi, a Martin Luther or anyone else from that calibre, cause we're all One Big F*&^ing family, aren't we?

Don't get me wrong, it's not a hate mail. It's just what i feel, and i'll go back to respeccting mankind,and the cruel sum of all math that it humanity. Cause it's circle and there will (DEFINITELY) be a time in their scheme of things when it will all turn around, and when it does...oh sweet happy day...judgement day.

Until then, we fly and soar, not giving up, never giving up hope.

And so the story goes....

M'ing among other things

2005-03-02T13:44:00.000+04:00

This was a letter i wrote to a yahoo group owner who started something to revolutionize the way women got together to speak about the one thing we all do - masturbation. I joined it when a friend on mine recommended it to me, only to find the entire place thronging with voyeurs looking to get a wet dream for free! Well, i was really upset about it and i write a few posts expressing my disbelief and one of them i write to the owner, who after a couple of mails to me, withdrew the group and closed it down. As far as i'm concerned, that's an achievement.
___________________________________________________________

Hi Ohri,

Well point taken and I must say it makes me feel quite comfortable to know that you were of the same opinion.
I guess the reason why Asian or Indian Asian girls would find it difficult to stay with the group is because some of the postings are quite comfortable with m'ing. While they're joining to find someone who isn't as comfortable as they are. And initially the posts on your group will serve as voyeuristic experience, which they might come back to a couple of times, but I really don't think it's going to help them come out of their shells. I'm hoping that more girls do make it from India, that way we can get some real conversations going. I do understand that in their cultures going pantyless or doing it in the office is very exciting.

But to tell you the truth Indian and other Asian women beat them by a mile when it comes to trying new things - I wouldn't be surprised if someone who isn't comfortable talking about it has already done and experienced what these ladies do already and don't talk about it. When it's their little secret it makes it all the more exciting.

But truth be told, the other consequences of living
In close-knit families, joint family households and also relinquishing luxuries of having your own space in a house has been a very limiting experience for women to explore their sexuality. I've always believed that masturbation has allowed women to understand their bodies and in most cases satisfy themselves like no man / woman can. You know your body like no one does.
Your mind and your body once in sync can take you to places that no one else has or can. That experience remains your special something - and every time you think about it, it's exciting; it's personal and a breathless experience. No words just sleep afterwards!

Another myth I don't buy into is being horny 24x7 - either you're on medication that helps. But there are people who vouch that they can keep going – I personally don't buy into that. For me personally, it's a very spiritual experience to touch myself. Yes I am aroused, but the sensations are amazing and now that I’m working, independent and also aware of who I’m, I know for sure that masturbation keeps a lot of things in check for me, I’m satisfied, I know when I want to because the feelings are undeniable. It's something personal and in my own time and sometimes afterwards, when I’m happy soaking in the bath, or taking shower and sitting with a book afterwards can be such a heavenly experience. I for one really savour such moments and don't use it as jerk off.... (By the way Ohri, I kinda like calling you that, I’m planning to put the last few paragraphs in as a post to see what kind of responses I get, it's time a few people write something other than - 'in the shower' -'without me knickers' - 'office and my little finger’ and so on!)

In fact I really hope you start posting as well soon....

Take care

Megha