Gratitude Thursday

Today I'm grateful for

my husband and his love

the very few good friends surrounding me

Gmail, for saving memories that I would never have thought to save

the key

Time has the answers locked up

The key is to give it some time

So Long Pluto!

Last morning we went to the beach to watch the sunrise. We fought through 30 minutes of thick traffic at 5:30 in the morning and reached the beach just in time to catch the big ball rise in brilliance. It was a serene moment. We were wordless for a while squinting at the red ball watching it turn bright orange; listening to the waves while traditional fishing nets were folded up against the shore; their morning tasks completed. We often take pleasures such as having the shoreline so close to us for granted, because we were raised right here. But for those few desi North-Indian couples basking in the morning warm waters; it was their only chance to enjoy the Indian Ocean.

I couldn't help but imagine what lay beyond the big blue vastness. I've always been intrigued with the earth and space; Nasa's newest discoveries, and of course the newest "space elevator". It was then that I realised how my husband and I come from such simpler times. We come from a time when

• We would wait for that one Saturday a month when our fathers would promise to take us to the much awaited exhibition and later to the beach for the evening.
• A single stick of ice cream (not playstations) was the blackmail for better marks in class tests.
• Tuitions weren't the order of the day.
• The moon and stars were both the same distance from Earth (or so we were told, until science proved otherwise)
• We could spend the whole of our childhood and teen life without ever having to use the mobile phone once.
• We could buy our whole year's stationary in under 200 bucks.
• We could appreciate pop music without having to deal with the likes of Miley Cyrus or Justin Bieber.
• We were taught that Pluto is still considered the 9th planet of our milky way!

Reality hits us hard when we know that we are all too consumed with our racing lives that we barely have time to stop and watch the waves of time racing past us. All we hear is the whoosing sound it makes when it's already too late.

My Life Rocks

I work for a technology and business solutions company that has a global presence. Yesterday we received an email from the HR team introducing some kind of calendar of events to all of its employees. It contained an attachment with the word calendar spelled as "calender" and the heading within the spreadsheet containing the word "calander" in it. I, on the other hand, had all the time on my hands to spot these mistakes. Oh well, My Life Is Average!

Promises Promises!

Suddenly, October seems to be a terrible month to agree to do something. After deciding to stop rambling through this media several months ago, I had taken a very hard decision on myself and killed all inspiration to write. It’s hard to believe more than a year has gone by since I last wrote anything sensible. While that takes time to sink in, I am still coming to terms with my husband who wants me to focus and start writing more.

During the time that I was away from my blog, I traveled a lot, didn’t change jobs, fell madly in love, got married, and have had the best time of my life. Oh and my sister had a baby boy!

But then again, October still seems like a tough time to agree to do something like starting to write again! With my husband’s insistence, I have decided to write one teeny post at a time. “You have until October the 15^th,” he said in that calm, composed manner he usually speaks to me. Wide-eyed I asked why? He said “Because you need to set a target for everything. This time it’s before our little vacation.” He also offered to help if I needed. But I’m a fairly impulsive woman and can’t really think of a topic to write on; much less take help from someone. So here it is. I've convinced myself to churn out one new post before we go away to Goa.

Oh and also because I am insanely romantic and absolutely adore my husband! *smiles*

Before I started writing, I visited some blogger friends’ pages for inspiration and was surprised to learn that most of them seem to have neglected their space for quite sometime now. Only moments after I started writing this morning, I realized how much I missed blog-hopping and answering to comments left by fellow bloggers. So I’m going to welcome my baby back with a fresh new start and a refreshing look. I’m going to be serious, thoughtful, curious, dorky, funny, and everything that I was on this page.

This new step is my way of telling the world how much I value my husband’s views and how much I care for the best thing that has ever happened to me!

Thanks everyone for reading!

cotton candy and white noise

I am way behind on my reading. Also way behind on updating my blog. Also way behind on following some (most) of them. But first of all, I have for you this.

Today has been an absolutely delightful day. The weather outside was oh-so-perfect this morning. In fact, we’ve had pleasant weather for over two weeks now. But I’m not going to bore you with the details of the weather we experience on this side of the world.

I haven’t written in a while, that’s probably why I’m talking gibberish. Of late so many things have been happening around me. My friends are migrating. Most of them are married or getting married. Some of them have lil angels and dolls to play with. Some are expecting. Some others are changing jobs. I’m spending less and less time with my sister ‘cos she’s getting busier with her life. AND it’s frustrating to know that I’m getting no where. I promise I won’t sulk because none of this is life altering.

Here’s a little story for you.

A little girl lives with her 8-something-member family that serves as domestic help for a large house right next door. She sings her heart away every morning to the not-so-prefect tune of Dhoom machale. By the looks of her, I can bet she can’t be a year older than seven. I would even say she’s just about six. But you’ll never know how deceptive looks can be when children her age are malnourished. She’s probably older than that… I’m not going to venture into that subject though.

Coming back to the song she sings every morning. She probably knows only those two words, or she prefers to sing away only those two, but she definitely doesn’t feel the need to go any further. While I sit in my third floor balcony, the morning news on one hand and a mug of steaming hot tea on the other, she is already at work. She has to fill a large empty tub with water that she pumps out of a hand pump into a smaller manageable bucket. She carries this around to where the tub is kept, a few feet away, and pours into the tub which can hold about 400 liters. I can’t begin to imagine how many trips she would have to make to fill the tub which is little taller than she is.

All this I watch from my third floor apartment balcony and feel ashamed to wonder about the incomplete song. Why didn’t I ever ponder about her homework? Did she complete it? Isn’t she’s supposed to get ready to go to school in a couple of hours? Wouldn’t her school bus come over to pick her up soon? Why didn’t any of that thought enter my mind? Here I am wondering why she sings only two words of a song. The irony of it being, I conveniently considered her to continue her family tradition of performing menial work for well-off homes.

Oh did I mention she chirps away happily while doing her tasks? Not one morning have I seen her feel remorseful of what she did. That is unquestionably some lesson I must learn!

Not so long ago, with a little push from Times of India’s powerful campaign Teach India, I decided to do my bit to help the thousands of little girls like her to sing. Make noise. Or squeal in joy upon riding a merry-go-round in a school playground. Even if her school is run by an NGO and taught by an amateur like myself. TeachIndia isn’t a new concept, but I’m insanely excited about it.

So as soon as TOI contacts me with more information, I’m going to be spending 4 hours a week changing the face of our nation. Are you interested to give the country a little of what your parents gave you? Do you live in one of the metros with a little time to spare this 2008? I’m a Teach India volunteer! You could be too.

India is a unique song. But it desperately needs people like us to change the way the world hears it. Now, it wouldn’t hurt to shriek a little to help bring tens of thousands of voices together, would it?

While we’re on that topic, here’s a wonderful song for you. Added advantage if you understood Hindi. And this time, I promise to be back sooner to attend to those meme’s.

Happy National Day everybody!

Exploration of Democracy

When she asks me "May I open your bag ma'am?" in her godforsaken monotone, I'm oh-so-tempted to say "You know, each time you guys do that, I want to say NOOOO! But in a strangely weird way, you have more power than me!!! So yeah, go on. It's a free country (At least for you)." :|

Each time I pass through security check I realize a tad too late that I may have a bottle of coke or water in my hand baggage. Phew!

angels climb down

persistent precaution
in nurturing fertile thoughts
preciously preserved clandestine events
visions called nightmares
twisting into realism

musing upon a futile art
an art called camo
mulling over an action
an action fortunately called illusion

redolent of the inevitable truth, that
it’s nice to stay together
but sometimes
nicer to be away

and then, they came by
or must I say, flew by
with invisible wings
and the invisible cure
to pour in a little perseverance
and to pour out a little

a dimpled smile
or a child-like hug
cheered up some more
for the best days to come

When God begins to test the power of forbearance, he sends an angel right behind to pull it off with ease. In a much better way than you thought you could. The best deal about this being, the angel won’t expect a tinker’s damn worth in return for the favour.

On this day I am especially grateful for some of the best people that happened in my life. Thank you for everything!

I owe an apology for being away for so long. Thanks to everyone that asked about my silence. Oh and do check out my photo blog.

Drafted on June 11, 2008.

Passion

I maybe a little late for this week’s scribble, but the prompt this week is too tempting to bypass. Smorgasbord; an assortment of prompts. We didn’t have to go far, cos this week we’re allowed to choose one of the 100 prompts that SS has inspired us with in the past two years.

I picked Passion! There’s a world of things one can talk about on passion, no? What I might write about is not so much passion. I would much rather call them simple pleasures. A few things I know I would definitely want to do before I die. And passionately so! :)

So here it is.

1. I want to adopt a baby girl.

2. I want to be able to wear bright stripped knee-highs, a summer dress with satin sashes, bright coloured keds and dress up like an English girl (hopefully before time starts to draw lines on the ‘girl’s’ face or before she loses her guileless smile). I’d like to have a British accent as well for a day or two. You know, talk the Queen’s English?!? I know I’ll look stupid but what the heck; let’s just say… it’s MY passion.

3. I want to visit Paris! Oh, Egypt perhaps. Or, Rome. From what I’ve read, I think it’s the most enchanting place on earth. And then Spain, I’m already in love with the castles and churches of Spain and I haven’t even looked at one. Only what I’ve read about. And seen on Discovery. But if I do Paris, I will definitely visit The Louvre. In fact, I want to do a lot of traveling. Learn a lot about the different cultures and blend all the good from them to live a good one myself.

4. And if I can’t travel, so what? I can still read. Aah, the places books can take you!!!

5. When I retire (did I mention I’m retiring at 30?) I want to go to the country and live near the temple by the temple tank. I already know which temple. Even if not at 30, that's definitely the place I'll find myself eventually.

6. I want to be a Godmother for someone.

7. I want to knit a sweater on my own and gift it to someone special. I know this can’t happen ‘cos I’m terrible at crafts. But just the thought of giving someone special a sweater knitted by me, is super exciting. :)

8. I want to be able to appreciate Irving Wallace and Mills & Boon alike. In the same breath. And throughout my lifetime. Not feel guilty about any part of it during any part of my life. What’s a little mushy romance when you desperately want it. And a little suspense when you need to feel the thrill of the adventure.

9. I want to sing softly with a loved one on a beach and never worry about a note or two going off key. Maybe, we’ll have something to laugh about, years later. **smiles**

So well those are my passions. There's more smorgasbord here!

Einstein has got to be kidding!

Whoever said “miracles don’t happen” has got to be an agnostic. I talked to a friend last week after almost two years. One of my best pals... I was literally elated to hear from him. It was a nostalgic moment for me to have had turned my grey matter over and mulled about the times the three of us wasted every Saturday evening hopelessly lying down on the beach, mostly discussing gadgets and sometimes futile gossip. When it’s about time to leave for our homes, almost always, our topic would take a damping change of course, to the subject of the supernatural; only because one of them would talk about his impending visit to the church the following morning. As if upon reflex, the other one would argue or cast a smirk for a response which would make the two of us upset. Not because we try to make him believe in the Supreme Being, but because he simply refused to believe in miracles, although he has witnessed several himself!

I strongly think that one should believe in miracles. Life is too short to prove every single thing that happens to you through the world of science. I have had many a miracle. And I prefer to call my miracles, God!

The fact that I’m back to blogging after a full 18 day slumber by itself is a miracle for someone that gives little attention to routine. Thank God for me, I still haven’t considered blogging mundane. A stress-buster it is for me. And how I discovered blogging itself is a miracle. :)

But why am I talking about miracles? Because they happen to us in the most bizarre ways at the most bizarre time.

------------------------------------------------
Nevertheless, since I’ve been away from blogging for quite a while now and now that it’s improbable that I might be blogging regularly, here’s a little poem (?? composition, if you will) in response to a prompt from Sunday Scribblings.

An endeavor for knowledge may sometimes lead to blissful ignorance
Echoes of crude words and ill manners fading through the years
Eccentricity could be a boon, quirkiness a bane, after downing a couple of beers
Knowing the density of the catastrophe
Knowing when not to talk
Knowing when to smile for an answer
Knowing when to respond with a mime
Promises chiseled into the sands of time
Some kept, some broken prematurely, some twisted to suit convenience
Sonnets and tales, never did they seem more delirious
Memories of painted nails and parting lips
Of pale pink, to hot pink, to shocking pink
Eighty can still be an immature age, or so she thinks
A surreal feeling of holding hands
Comforting the blistered palm and hardened heart
Wishful of breaking open the time-capsule
Desirous of traveling back to the good days
When her hands were steadier
When her memory never failed
When promises sounded like music
But then there’s hope, and then there’s hope

------------------------------------------------
Congratulations to the ladies from Sunday Scribblings on their 100th prompt. You have never ceased to inspire me.

For more posts on time machine, go here!

when love and hate collide

It is six O’ something clock in the evening. The air isn’t still. The water isn’t still. Neither are our hearts. The water brandishes in quick movements back and forth, the salt in the water reminding me of how deceptive looks can be. And the current! The invincible current, between us and the waves. There’s a bonding hormone; high levels of oxytocin; much like the current, and not necessarily in the water. The never-ending waves. Wishing and hoping that it will be never-ending for us too. The shore however doesn’t seem to care. Right now it appears to be busy fighting with the sea over which one should get a bigger helping of the waves.

I notice something on the horizon. A big red ball of a moon. Ever-so-slightly making its way above the ocean. Rising up steadily. It’s not so much the current I begin to think. Maybe it’s the moon, save the timeless continental drifts that’s working the waves too. It’s the moon fighting over the waves. It’s the moon permitting the waves to kiss the shore and return to Mother Ocean. Making it rise up and bend over. Rise up and bend over. And then, rise up, bend over, and crash into the shore. Is the moon letting the waves seduce the shore? Letting the waves mock at it?

Another Shakespeare in love. And now understandably, unmindful of a dozen pair of eyes watching us. Gliding through into a whole different cosmos. Barely two minutes pass by before someone scares the day-lights out of me, yanks me back to reality, and hands me a camera. I curse my ill-luck at being driven back to reality from my world. I cringe, as a war of embarrassments race through my nerves. The hair on my nape stand upright. ONE humble request for one last dance. One regretful denial. Living in a land of carnal needs and of rueful denial, I realize the two just don’t seem to co-exist! I curse my ill-luck again!

This is just one clandestine evening of desperate urgence. I dip my feet in the insistent lapping water. I assure the waves “It’s ok. I’m here.” They don’t seem to care though. The war continues. The ocean wants a bigger portion of the waves. But the shore invites them with the promise of sparking white sand. Mother Ocean finally wins, tearing out her waves away from the shore. They still claw their way forward but fall prey to the ocean again. She wins again. She wins yet again. She wins every single time! The waves fall into her arms and relax only for a brief second, before they crave for land.

A dogmatic thought crosses my mind. I quickly brush it aside, reminding myself yet again of the hardships it puts me through; and the hardships I put it through. The heart!

Love has a lot of reasons to be hated. It’s all about the time I tell myself. Now, how could it be the right time if it feels sooooooo wrong? I stop mulling over it anymore.

I dismiss the thought and continue to cruise the length of the beach. With each step, taking in the beauty of the sea. With each step, enjoying the therapeutic rarity of romance. With each step, the sounds of the guileless laughter of the boys fading into the distance…

--
PS: A work of fiction!

Disassociating myself from Murphy

Whatever can go wrong will go wrong, and at the worst possible time, in the worst possible way
~ Edward A. Murphy ~

I beg to differ.

This is like being the centre of attention in a theater where thousands of pairs of eyes wait with diligent eagerness sparkling behind their eyes. They’re obviously expecting a decent performance after having paid for the play. And you have butterflies, the size of dragons!

This is like the feeling you get when you’re sitting in front of a full auditorium … a grand piano at the centre of the stage, an entire auditorium earnestly waiting to listen to you reverberate the ambience. You’re fingers will refuse to play, just then!

Simply put, it’s ‘Baggage Claim’; which, in my humble opinion, is the most stressful part of travel.

My work is as scary!

But I love what I’m about to do in the near future. And now I don’t feel all that jittery after all. I’m going to jump the gun. I’m going to get silly. Nothing can go wrong! The full house only reminds me of the confidence the audience has in me, and of the impending ovation. I will therefore override Murphy’s Law, take the plunge and stretch my legs as far as they can take me this 2008.

So maybe, I should now say…Everything happens for the good!

Time will tell the rest. Wish me luck!


Picture Courtesy: Google Images

My birthright is an unwritten law

--------------------------------------------
Joey: Face your fear. You have a fear of heights? You go to the top of the building. You're afraid of bugs? Get a bug.

Joey: Go for it man! Jump off the high dive. Stare down the barrel of a gun. Pee into the wind!

Chandler: Yeah. Joe, I assure you if I'm staring down the barrel of a gun, I'm gonna be pretty much peeing every which way.

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

This is an extract from the famous sitcom FRIENDS. Strangely, Joey’s making sense, isn’t he? Sometimes, I'm glad for people like Joey. I'm in a confused state of mind right now.

I get reminded of Nickelback's Far Away...
"This time, This place
Misused, Mistakes
Too long, Too late"

So right now, the last thing I need is more Joey-ness. But surprisingly, his stupidity is helping out a lil bit. What’s life like if you can’t live it to the fullest? And if you can’t trust what you’re about to do. So for the new years, whatever resolutions I'm making (or not), I plan to trust myself in whatever I do. In whatever I am capable of doing. Believe in myself. This makes me feel a lot better already. :)

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

Also, here’s a wonderful track by Eric Carmen from the movie Dirty Dancing (all you romantic-movie lovers should know exactly what I'm talking about). He’s got a ridiculous outfit on, in this video… but its Eric Carmen all the same :) And I particularly LOVE this song.

Here goes… Hungry Eyes! There’s such melancholy and profoundness in the lyrics.



Whenever I listen to this track, I always close my eyes and wear my earphones. :) I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do.

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

Happy Holidays everyone. And have a pleasant new year. I hope 2008 brings you everything that you want, and more! If you think, you want more than you’re entitled to, then go ahead and make it your birthright! It then won't sound greedy after all! Trust me, it works! ;)

I'm gonna go get myself a bug now.

Love ‘ya all

To play with the thunder

Would you want to write your own destiny, or would you rather go by what’s written in it already? Or are you the breed that doesn’t believe in either school of thought?

When you know exactly what's for breakfast on a Monday morning, it takes out the joy of looking forward to the kitchen area to check on mommy to see what’s cooking. When you know exactly what time the train departs, it steals away a sly thought from creeping in; the thought of oversleeping for a teeny bit more, hoping the train will be late as usual. I don’t peek out from my window anymore to catch a glimpse of the gift from the heavens. It doesn’t make me grin from ear-to-ear. I’m all covered up and ready to hit the road because the lady from the weather desk told me exactly what time the snow is expected to fall. How heavy it will be. And how long it will last.

My 4:45 PM shuttle is almost never late; it then doesn’t give me the opportunity to nervously fidget with my fingers waiting for the shuttle to pick me up. I know exactly when my train will arrive (which is a good thing ‘cos I get to book for a cab accordingly. That way I won’t get stranded at a lonely train station in the wee hours of the night). And I know quite well that I have to layer myself with clothing because it’s going to snow tomorrow.

I have nothing to look forward to when I leave from work, because again, I know what will await me at the Happy Hour back at my hotel. I even know the “French names” (if you will) of the wines that they serve from Monday through Thursday, and then, all over again from the next Monday through Thursday.

Even the bloody traffic lights are synchronized!

There’s not much left for imagination! There are hardly any surprises! There is little anticipation! There’s no exalt!!!

It doesn’t concern me that my future is already written out for me, but it does concern me that my day-to-day activities are already scripted! Some would think that it’s a good thing. But there are disadvantages. For one, I detest the fact that my personal life is planned out. Planning, as far as I am concerned, should stay shut at work! But that’s not the only disadvantage. My office security at the front-desk who smiles at me every morning and heartily wishes me to have an excellent day, refuses to recognize me if I forgot my office badge someday! It really doesn’t bother me much, but it tells me that relationships are like a canoe that meekly rocks on waves of golden protocols.

How much more scripted can life get, when even the thunder wonders if it should strike on a dark rainy afternoon, simply because it wasn’t on the forecast the previous day?!?

You must think I sound crazy, but back in Madras, however much indiscriminate things are, I kinda like it that I don't know what to expect next. Whether on road, at home, for lunch, at work, at a movie, what have you! Pleasant or unpleasant; what's the point in living after all, if there aren't little surprises to look forward to?

Stargazing

Having to treasure every best moment may not be very difficult; perhaps the finest and most powerful way to cherish them, is to not re-live those moments.

Thank God for dreams!!!

As Promised!

I was supposed to tell you the truth of it in the very next post but I didn’t. Just like I imagined, very few people decided to take a guess on which one of them was the lie. Clearly, my readership is falling waaay off the cliff deep into the Grand Canyon! :-/

Only a couple of them guessed and failed miserably. And that means you Dharma! No seriously, how many times have I written about my dreams? That was a dead give-away!

Anyway, those of you that guessed were wrong! Also, if you knew me well, you would know better than to trust me with promises. :P But ho; here’s the truth. I don’t run a no-shit blog! Hell I can’t even update this one on time. And I know I’m not following blogs regularly either. Between the last time I visited Devil and today (which is I think a week) she’s posted nine new ones. Or at least that’s what Google Reader tells me! And I haven't followed her blog, or anyone else' since! So lo, I’m not running any new blog and all that jazz; but I kinda like the way I made up that lie myself! Tee hee.

But now that the idea has bloomed unto me, I think I might just end up starting one. But nah, you’ll never know. Never trust my promises, remember?

Image: Courtesy-gettyimages. There's something about this picture that I could relate with, I'm not sure what tho.

The law of gears

As soon as you shift to a higher gear, the brakes will need immediate attention, and you will have to shift one gear down!

I wasn't sleeping when Chennai's traffic became this terrible all of a sudden, was I? :-/

But I've been definitely sleeping when Blogger introduced video within our blog posts, 'cos I saw it just today, actually just now!

It is that time of the year again…

When the sheer passion for the sport would wake me up as early as 5:30 in the morning (or sometimes 5 AM) for three months in a row and I wouldn't complain once.

When every morning I would curse my ma under my breath for making me drink a tall glass of porridge (used to taste yuck) at 5:45 before I left for the club. Eventually, I was grateful she made me drink it!

When PR was as important as knowing the right rowing skills if you want the boats when you needed them

When the daily morning run would stop and the circuits would begin! How we hated doing it.

When my coach would give me a “tch tch” if my endurance wasn't good enough compared to the other guys on the land-work

When our calf muscles would beg for us to stop working out and rest them for a while

When the post-lunch nap at work cannot be avoided

When we dreaded the ergo-meter race more than any other race

When our head-coach’s call to flip the toss would make us weak at the knees clearly reminding us of the impending win-or-die race

When all around us, we would hear one seemingly important mantra … “Die on the boat”

When what appeared to be the most troublesome crew of all, sat quietly bundled up in one corner of the club wondering how much ahead of the other crews we are, or how far behind

When all the bars of chocolates, energy drinks, and red bulls would be our only life-savers between races

When I would eagerly await the knock-out races rather than do the circuits at the end of each race :-/

When we’d feverishly wait under the bridge, my heart pounding against my chest, waiting endlessly for what seemed to be never-ending passage of time, before we got the final call for the race-starts.

When eventually the success of the entire crew would be too sweet for any of the less trivial coxie problems to matter

The year of 2003 was by far the most fantastic rowing season for me! Yet again, it is that time of the year, except this Fall I’m not rowing! But the prestigious M&B corporate regatta is on and is at the Madras Boat Club, Adyar, on the last Saturday of this month. If you are in Chennai, be sure to attend it after 3:30 PM! You don’t have to row, but at least you can be there to witness and confirm that all of the above statements are accurate.

I'm grateful for...

... the finest woman in my life.

For being

radical

fanatical

magical

practical

remarkable

for being a pillar

for enduring

contributing

for ... just BEING there when I needed her.

I cannot begin to imagine the sphere of activities I will have to start doing on my own... starting from shopping till managing my finances (which just-so-you-know, I totally suck at!). :-/

I'm dedicating this post to my sister!

undone

All attempts to crack me up having failed, I still am sincerely waiting for the day I won't have to be sincere anymore!