His scent - for one more season

She does not love to be loved, but just as whim
Being desirous suffices her needs

She looks at men with her kohl-ed eyes
In her Velvety heel and black shimmer dress

she can find gaps in any man, from where she can slip

She says..the wanting look in men in truthful
Not the love they wear on their sleeves

They have all loved her secret strength
Not knowing she had always been in love with a weakness

But strange things happen with her always
The more she gets detached, the more men try to get her attached
The false stability makes her further unstable in her mind

She hates to stare at her mobile for someone's name
Nameless faces make her feel  alive now

She knows the game of seduction finally tilts things
One way or another,

She knows, men will get her addicted to something, and take that away
So the only addiction she trusts now is of alcohol and desire

Some women are meant to be lonely
Men have seized to be what she wanted them to be
A tryst with herself, a lump in her throat

There has always been..
This desperate need to look for someone who is in touch with himself..
So that he can touch her soul some day

For men, her mystery ends in her body, never before and never after
She carries her mystery with herself, never willing to part

She does not believe in greatness in men, mere thought disquiets her
Its the smallness in them that lets her be what she wants to be

She has been hugged many a times, sometimes for the body
Sometimes for the sake of commitment and objectification
But nothing in synch with her, nothing of the hugs she misses

All this rigmarole, cos she tried finding his scent elsewhere, but could not
She would never know what a life with him would have been, or if any of it was worth it

The scent of belonging, the scent of her womanhood
She has not blushed in eons

One of those things

In my last post I talked about lots of things being on my mind...
One of it was me getting on stage with kathak, after 15 years

As you grow, you lose so much of yourself, which can only be revived by doing what you love doing

And in times like these, when you are trying to regain yourself, you realise how much of you has been lost

You find yourself little mellow, in everything you do...or everything that was so you

And kathak was such a thing for me

And I felt I could not be what I used to be (even though the bit I wad doing was no where close to what I used to perform earlier, in terms of complexity), and that made me little shaky..
I could not do that stuff by letting my vigor be chipped away

And for that reason I created multiple reasons in my mind, and told my sister that I wont take part

Cos she was the one who had organised this whole show, to showcase her institute and her students along with a kathak dance teacher caller Murari(who incidentally knew my guru too) and his students

This sister is the one I wrote about here :
http://memoriesofaworldelsewhere.blogspot.in/2011/08/she-is-doing-her-bit.html

and here:
http://memoriesofaworldelsewhere.blogspot.in/2010/09/presenting-malvika.html

I said "I dont like the girl I am dancing with, she doesnt give me right vibes"
then "I am not his student so I guess he is not interested in involving me in this programme" (I was like a guest dancer and not his regular student. But I was the one who initiated this and asked her to ask him to include me in his compositions)
and another "I wanted to do this cos I hoped a more enjoyable experience and an environment of dance and music, but thats not happening here, since they practice separately and I am just like an add-on"

But for some reason she was so adamant on me performing. She said if I dont like the girl, she would ask him to let me do this solo, etc etc. And finally I gave it a shot.
More to try myself than for anything else.

And gradually the enthusisam started creeping in.
When we had the final stage practice, I felt so different.

I was that girl who used to be so sure of herself on stage, I always knew all eyes are glued on me when I dance.
I would look at people in their eyes while dancing and would see them looking at me and that gave me a high
But this time I had no clue, I just wanted to get thru it.

But after that stage rehearsal, when I went down, all the women there(sister's students) gave me a boost which I have been lacking.
Some said "You are far more elegant than the other woman"
Some "I could not take my eyes off you"
And I got my reward in small ways, dance must be in my veins

Here we go again...after 15 years

This body has a mind of its own

Note : I need some time away from what all is happening around me, my mind is a little numb.
I have been irregular on the blog, and I miss it like I would miss myself (if I give in to the world). You realize how being with yourself is something you love the most, when you are about to lose yourself and your loneliness

What you are going to read now is midless chatter of an overloaded brain..but had to write something


People emphasize so much on the brain that they forget the body has a say in lots of matters too

You ask me why should one love anyone?
Is it just the brains or the brawn?

Its way too many things My Dear!Brain is but just a bit of it
Words become harrowing at times, your ideas and your intelligence can become a farce one day..too much or too less

What are you? A mix of your body, a bit of your mind, your fragrance, your mischief and your desires(which makes another desirous of you)

You are way too many things, and Also Nothing..at the same time

You are loved cos of...
the way you smile, and the way you hold it back too
the way your flare up, and the way you sometimes let go and feign nonchalance
the way you touch a chord somewhere, and never let it go..

A person can be magic, for what he says, and for how he touches you
Your body can be a resting place for some battered heart

Someone's body can be yours, away from the world, away from your own grueling self, away from the mess that brain creates

This body has a mind of its own, and we cant deny that many a times it supersedes the brain

Lets rest in peace our brains, words and  ask our body its wishes some times..that's as much ours as anything else

If nothing else works, try yourself

People universally tend to think that happiness is stroke of luck, something that will descend upon you like fair weather if you're fortunate enough. But thats not how happiness works. Happiness is the consequence of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings. And once you have achieved a state of happiness, you must never become lax about maintaining it, you must make a mighty effort to keep swimming upward into the happiness forever, to stay afloat on top of it. If you dont, you would leak away your innate contentment.

Was reading "Eat,Pray,Love"(Yes I finally found my copy. If you are diligent, you can get what you want), and came across above lines.

I stopped here and thought "This is is how exactly I think and see happiness as!"

Happiness is abound, it does not have a theory to it, its forms are multifold
You are the keeper of your own happiness

You define your own potent mix of that happy feeling, which gives a spring to your steps
Let that be a memory of a forgotten song, a drunken brazen night, a kiss, sweet texts, laughter with people who get you , an unforgettable wedding, those glances exchanged with a crush
Maybe its sipping coffee all alone in an airport lounge, or reading a book on a rainy day with a cup of coffee

It could also be about something which never happened, or something you love dreaming about

Is it the smell of incense on durgo pujo, or the possibility of a  romance, or the memory of it? An enthralling performance by you and you regaling in the reverence of audience, or your own idea of how grand you are..

Dig it out, inhale your happiness..let it take whatever to be happy..just dont let go...
You have taken happiness from this world, its people, its beauty...give it back by retaining all of it..in any wierd form as you please..

Keep it pulsating, raw and effervescent..its yours..

And once I finished thinking, I read the next few lines, which is what I was thinking just a while ago

All the sorrow and trouble in this world is caused by unhappy people. Not only in the big global Hitler n Stalin picture, but also on the smallest personal level. I can see where my episodes of unhappiness have brought suffering or distress or(at the very least) inconvenience to those around me. The search for contentment is therefore not merely a self-preserving and self-benefiting act, but also a generous gift to the world. Clearing out all your miseries, gets you out of the way. You cease being and obstacle, not only to yourself but to anyone else. Only then you are free to server and enjoy other people.

Father figure

My upbringing could be labelled as extremely un-conventional, by Indian standards
I never had a male member in the family, who dominated the household

My father not the archetypical indian father, what with each of us having a different surname, more like a second name than the family name which people usually carry

When my other girlfriends spoke of how they would have fun while their respective fathers were at work, and had to behave properly once the man of the house was home, I felt disconnected
Cos it was exactly the opposite in my house

We would sit late in the mornings, on holidays, sitting with tea and papa
Talking of what love is all about..my father reading excerpts from "Brother's Karamazov" to us
Ma getting angry and probably jealous, cos she had to cook and miss being part of that gang

And somewhere amidst all this, we(mainly I) became feminists(!?)
Well well, this word "feminist:" has such nasty connotations nowadays,  that saying it makes me feel like an old hag who is out there to kill all men
And the whole essence of it is gone, by all this humbug created around it, by some men/women

 But secretly I wished I had something similar to say, like my other friends. This duality lent them such an air of mystery and exclusiveness that I missed being that girl. I envied that they were more special than I was, who was given all the liberty in the world. As if no one cared!

Maybe thats the reason why seeing an elderly man anywhere makes me respectful towards him, brings out the gentler side of me
Many a times in my moments of distress, I always imagined a huge hand on my head, patting me and saying "It will be fine, I am there". And that someone is a man, a man who knows me inside out

All that makes me think...
Is it that inspite of all this liberation talks, women actually want and need to be subdued?
Is there a desire in them to be ruled? Is that the law of nature?
Do we have this inherent need to be dominated, is that the only way they can love a man?Do we all women need a man who tells us you are nothing, you mean something only cos you are attached to me?

Are we all looking for that "father figure", who tells us and controls us in a way which makes us respect him?

I mean if I have to marry, I will always look for someone who is either my equal or better. In terms of money as well as personality.
But for a man, a pretty wife is pretty much fine. Her education,job are just fancy stuff which they might like and admire. But not a must. Why dont men have such mandates as well?

I think its a catch 22 situation, for at least women like me.
I would like to be controlled by a man, but the kind of control a man exercises, without actually owning me and my heart, makes me refute it.

Some men try to be God, even before they do anything close to being a God.

Whenever I sit in front of God's deities in my house, even for a few seconds, I feel peace.
I feel I am taken care of, that I will never be mistaken by almighty.
That I dont have to fight for smallest of my human rights with him/her.
Be it changing your surname when you get married, to your role change from a daughter to a daughter in law, from assuming you would leave your job always to accompany your husband in his ambitions...etc etc

My GOD - s/he does not judge me for any and every thing, s/he loves me like someone who loves a butterfly full of colors, for my beauty and for my mischief..
There are no questions big enough to be answered, as everything I am is known to him
I can sit in his/her cradle and be everything that I ever wished to be, and s/he just indulges me
While I value him, for being all this and strive to be the woman of his desires

If a man can make me feel all of that, then maybe he can be my God!

Love of unknown

It was an immoral rain yesterday. Unyielding, uncompromising, unrelenting.
A tyrant!

I came out of a shop, near my place and was blinded by nothing in sight but the downpour
I contemplated on my next move

I could go back and wait for the rain to abate.
But the impatient me, and the beauty loving me trashed this idea and decided to get soaked and walk till home.

But this city of Bangalore is not so much for such adventurers. It does not entertain whimsical wishes like these on unconventional days like this one.

Cos there were pools of water on both sides of the road, with just a thin pathway visible right in the center of the road.
I hopped onto that center patch of visible road and started walking on it. SO, I was waling right in the middle of a busy road

But the traffic behind me started getting mad. I continued snootily giving deaf ear to all of them, but after a while the nasty looks I got from all around made me relent.

I again had 2 options. I could go back and wait under any of the shelters around me, or step on to my left, where an unknown pile of dirt, ditch awaited me

For someone who looks out for dust in every nook and corner, who uses hand gloves when any washing has to be done, who has to wipe or dust any place she touches..the 2nd option was blasphemous

But I have no idea why, I chose the 2nd one.
I clenched my teeth, asked my heart and mind to stop for a second and without paying heed to any of my other senses, put my feet into that pool

I had an exhilarating experience of surrendering to the unknown , to the pull of a whirlwind I have never experienced
I kept walking, unaware of what was hitting my feet..and totally not bothered.

Cos I knew I was going home
And everything will be taken care of, once I am there

While I kept walking, a mad wish came to my mind..I wished I could do the same in life.
And for a second I thought it might be as easy as this.

Just plunge in, and get blown away to smithereens, by inexplicable emotions and feelings I have never found or searched within me

The unwanted can become the wanted..if they are the unknowns and the paradoxes

I am for keeps

I am in Gurgaon - late in the night..a Saturday night
Smell of smoke in the air
I am in a bar, a happening one, as per the standards

But I dint quite enjoy anything inside the bar  till now, I was just trying to sway to my moods, which dint uplift
I had a few beer mugs, but then I am a pro and a few beer mugs do nothing for me now

But suddenly, while I waited for people to finish what they were doing, I sat on the bench outside
Half drunk, half asleep, I looked up

There it was, my moon..I looked around..

There were women, head bent while they text-ed away to someone
Their faces convoluted in some fake misery, over a false love, over an emotion they so wanted in life, that they resorted to faking

I looked up again at the moon, inhaled the smoke, it gave me a high which the beer mugs could now
I was drowning in a sense of deja vu..I was one of those women sometime
Drunk, texting and madly in love..with someone..or with myself?

I could inhale the smoke the whole night and not budge
I was falling in love again...with something..someone..or the moment
Nostalgia of some kind hit me strong

Delhi of some other time floated in front of me

I dont know what I remembered, who I recalled, but I remember remembering...
That I am for keeps..that who belongs to me can never get away from me

Siblings are the keeper of one's identity

I wish siblings knew each other and loved each other till the time they could, with all their hearts..and then lost touch once they moved on, in different directions

Cos sometimes the mapping of wonderful childhood and crooked present makes things all the more ugly

So, that they can be remembered by the sunny winters spent with tea-sipping and gossiping, the dance rehearsals and heart talks
And not the indifference which creeps in with time, not the distance which commences like a poignant wound

I run behind to capture the lost warmth, but each of our meeting slips it away..further..till I can no longer see it
And assume that it never was the way I imagined it to be

There was a time when everything which happened to me had to be linked with my sisters/cousins. The hidden meanings of things which only we could decipher, in our own strange ways..every single time the only thought in my mind would be "I have to go back and tell this to my sisters".

From a meaning-less glance from a cute boy, to meaning-ful feelings of our nascent hearts...from shredding apart meaning of every line of a song to .. counting the number of days we stayed without each other..

We built our childhood and adolescence in different hues

When in drunken stupor, I had this strong urge to call one of them..and just talk any crap.
With time those desires have died down. How I wish I could revive it, but it has reached a no man's land.

Now even something very important to me also goes unnoticed, un-talked  about. The sheen and richness gone. When did this happen?

 As a teenager I used to look at some of our adults and wonder how they could bitch about their own siblings to their spouses, and haughtily think that we will never grow apart..not an ounce from how we were.

We all live plain lives, most of us, al least I do. And what keeps us going are those bouts of exhilarating experiences we have had in our lives. Those rainbows in our lives, are the ones we want to recur in succession. With someone close, some city , some drink, some song.
And if I look back I guess my times with siblings & cousins have been the best..that is when they were...not anymore.

Now I dread my times with them, cos they will further make me believe that whats lost can never be revived.

They say change is inevitable, outgrowing one relation and growing into another is the way it is. But I refuse to agree with this decorum of life. If one can not sustain what was beautiful, then every thing beautiful in the present will lose its meaning to us gradually. If we can't love the ones the way we loved them earlier, but make new friends and progress with our life as if nothing has changed, then am sorry I dont belong to that category of people. For me friends could never replace family, my people, my childhood, my roots. If we drive ourselves away from them, we are rejecting our very roots. I am proud of what I was with you all, and my pride in anything new in life will always be based on what I had.

Or maybe we are just one dysfunctional family, which disintegrated with time..for no concrete reason? or is it just me feeling this way these days?

This post isn't meant to lash out at any of you sisters/brothers, specially you two who read this blog but never comment.
 But just a rhetoric in my mind, and trying to understand..the inevitable!

But I still remember that patch of sun on our bed, where we often huddled around  on late winter mornings, lazily flitting through one topic to another, in our innocence, in our love for life, in our glory. And we shifted our positions during all this, to capture that piece of sun, which shifted its position as the day went by

That piece of sun is what I will always remember and try to bring it back in my life, in different ways..

A sibling may be the keeper of one's identity, the only person with the keys to one's unfettered, more fundamental self. - Marian Sandmaier

Under stress

Have you observed yourself as a 3rd person, when you are going thru a crisis, of any kind?

I have noticed one thing about myself
 Under a stressful condition, I become a better me..effortlessly

When a relationship breaks, while my inside is decaying, I help others with their
As if that would save my crumbling parts

I am more eloquent,I am taking charge of the situation.
Trying to run-over negativity, which is sometimes produced by external people as well

I dont give my mind a moment of rest, am exhausting myself with alternatives to come out of that situation
They might not be the best ones, yet I dont stop
I just know that by doing so, I will salvage something somewhere

Its like a constant movement might turn the events which are yet to happen

Even if they all turns out futile, I will save parts of me in the process

Some call it denial, but I guess its just another me, which surfaces
And in-spite of the heartbreak happening, I grow to love myself little more

If I were someone else, I would definitely love the person I become sometimes

Strength of the weak

"Every woman needs one man in her life who is strong and responsible. Given this security, she can proceed to do what she really wants to do-fall in love with men who are weak and irresponsible." – Richard J. Needham

Though this quote is more on a lighter note, yet I can see the seriousness and truth of it all
 I am sure we all have felt this, some or the other time in our lives
BTW, this applies to men as well
 
But here I am not sure what is weak or whats strong..
Is weak the one who revels in every move we make, every twitch of our eyebrow, every passing of expression on our face
Then we mark this person as weak, weak for loving us to bits like this
Which is actually his/her strength

Or is strong actually the weak men, who make us feel weak and clingy...in their arrogance and convoluted self-esteem
They do whats possible in them to bring the weakest in us come to surface, and turn that into their strength?
And thrive on our weakness?Deriving their strength from it?

The weak might be the bailey Irish cream, which is gentle on your nerves and gives you a mild buzz and their counterparts (aka strong) could be tequila shots which hits you instantly, makes you have more and more of it without thinking of consequences, and then gives a serious hang over when the buzz is gone

And if you love outside marriage, are you willing to leave the comforts of your bailey Irish cream for the charms of a tequila shot? Not many, very very few for sure

So all you women/men out there, who aspire to find love outside marriage, have you ever thought why you still cant leave your spouse.?
Even though s/he lacks the spunk you have, or lacks the mystery which gives you a kick

I will tell you why..

More than societal thing, or the family pressure, its your own desire of acceptance which makes it impossible to break the chains(unless there is a pressing need like adultery, violence and the likes)

We all seek acceptance, from the world, from people we love
When we grow old..we feel the world stops accepting us gradually
We feel that our charisma, which made us glow and gloat earlier, isnt enough to be loved by the changing ways of the world

The world belongs to the youth, thats a fact. Look at all the advertisements around you, they are out there to impress the young, to get them to like what they have to sell. For old ones, maybe pension plans, and for housewives the soap operas.

So we need that one person, who has seen us in our glory, in our hay days
All that we lost, is stored in that one person
We want that person around, cos s/he makes us look good
Even if we feel we lost the enigma and the charm we had earlier, we know that this one person has known us at our best
S/he has seen what we were capable of, how many hearts we could break and how many wounds we could mend

This weak person's undeterred belief in us, will see us thru the mess that we create for both of us
Even when we feel we are no more in love with that person, we can no let go
Maybe it is is another form of love, Self love transcending into love for another

Thank God, we keep our brains in check, just that bit, to never lose that one person
And we realize, life is a little more about giving in to madness
Self obsessed, selfish piece of pests that we are!


But one moment of that streak of madness, I see in another, my dark thoughts take over and I leave all my rationale...and am ready for a tequila shot

Some days I feel there is a black corpse running thru my veins

the day is shrouded in tons and tons of darkness

darkness emanating from unknown things

darkness of the sort, which only the soul can be

And I feel my heart is on the edge of the cliff,

some one just has to tip me off, just a little bit

And I will be in that overwhelming abyss

It was beautiful..thats it..

..and nothing more I can say about the place, thats switzerland.

So words and even my pictures might not do justice to it. So,I wont go into explaining of how it was..and just leave a few pics and the stories behind them here.

The view from my balcony

Wine festival at Chardonne..and I got tipsy

"We must live in interesting times" - Chinese say it. Live band at wine festival and me and my niece danced to that

Finishing our glasses to get it refilled

Sunny and beautiful in Evian

 

Behind me is the place where the famous Evian water comes from

 

Thats 140 meters high fountain in Geneva

United nations and the big chair in front of it

New girl in Geneva old town, old towns are so charming

Thats my trip to Montreux all alone, the animated graffitis were cute. And thats my pink skirt with blue stilettos, suggested by my niece

 

On my way to Montreux in a Ship

The clock tower at Bern where every hour some figures come out and present a show, we missed it cos of the beer talks

 

The beer talks in Bern, what a pretty city

Thats the view from rose garden, I could stare and just dream

Switzerland it was!

I have been back from my trip long back, but a few things have gone topsy turvy at my end
So, I have been trying to handle them and my blogging has taken its toll

Just before I embarked on my journey, something went wrong. Yet, I tried eradicating it from my mind, cos one does not go to Switzerland every day. And if I could not enjoy it just cos of some malfunction in life, then I feel I could not deal with anything which goes amiss in my life

So, with that mindset, I spent my time at the ariport having beer my myself, reading "Love" by Toni Morrison(more on this on my blog later) and talking to people over phone, to let the storm in my mind pass

Ok, a bit about the journey itself.

I went to Zurich via Colombo and the airline had arranged for a 1 day stay in a beautiful 5 star hotel by sea side, which was a treat in itself. The only glitch is : Being all alone, one can not make much of all the beauty in the world.

My 10-11 hours journey from Colombo to Zurich was spent parts in puking(yeah my usual), parts in trying to evade conversation by the strange man sitting next to me, parts in "Love" and parts in watching movies on the inflight entertainment kit.

So this strange man sitting next to me, was a kannadiga Brahmin, who would offer a prayer before any meal.
The moment  I saw him, I had an unnerving feeling that he would try and talk to me. I tried burying myself in book , but he started off in that typical fake accent(very typical of people in south who have been abroad for a long time).
       Its like, mixing sambhar in pasta, if you know what I mean.
They would force a foreign accent, but right in the middle of a sentence, their "Hech" for "h" and "intilligint" for "intellignet" gives them away.(No offense meant to anyone here, we all have colloquial accents, specific to our region and nationality, but faking it makes it all the more hilarious).
He started off by asking me if I stay in Switzerland, from then on he went till my 10th standard results and mark-sheet and percentage and finally he told me I should do MBA.(I felt like I was speaking to my mother).
Then finally he expended all information about himself(maybe asking about me was a trick to actually speak about himself).
He teaches mathematics in Switzerland. But along with that, he kept mentioning how he is into too many things. Jewellery design, interior decorations etc etc. And that he has many "important conferences" coming up. How he has a mansion in most posh area in Mumbai, sea-link. It seems his house will be a place to visit, such is the interiors he is designing. "I am into too many things", was his reply for everything.
Then I saw him trying to chat up air-hostesses and asking them "Do you have time?", some of them gave him cold shoulder, some entertained with feigned politeness and camouflaged boredom. And all this while I tried hiding a smirk.
He would disappear for long hours from seat(maybe trying his luck with air hostesses at the back), which was a boon for me, as then I could extend my legs onto his seat and curl myself to sleep.

Well,he did help me in the end, by telling me as to where to take the train to Laussane. My final destination was Vevey and I was getting picked up at Laussane by my brother in law.

It was a short trip, just 6 days(mis-management) yet I ca not write the zist of it in 1 post.
But, for sure, much remains to be explored(as Italy is still a dream).
I realized that this place is not meant to be visited with sister, brother in law and 2 kids. Its difficult to manage all that I aspired for, in 6 days, with kids falling ill and the general lethargy which is akin to carrying kids around in prams.
Its a place to be explored with someone who has the same madness and rush and lack of time.

But let me just tell you how all of it still appears in my head, in a jiffy.

The magnificent hill and lake which I could see daily from balcony, the wine festival where live music and dance kept me in high spirits, me and my niece playing songs and dancing in the balcony in late evening.
That was just B.E.A.U.T.I.F.U.L. The growing dusk, the hill in front, my kind of music and some memories flashing in my mind while I danced with this sweet little thing who is growing up into a pretty girl. Can't believe 8 years back I was teaching her how to say "Tea"  & "Topsy" & "Teddy"(She caught all words starting with "T" as early as 11 months), and today she is telling me which colour sandle should I wear with my pink skirt.
"Blue goes with pink Sumi Mausi, so wear Mamma's blue stilettos". The way memories get created in cocoons of your heart

The days were so long, they lapped up the night in their over-bearance. And the night came tip toeing around day, as if intimidated by it, and disappeared before I could bury myself in its mysteries.
My glowing tan, in just 2 outdoors. Running to switch trains which are just 5 minutes apart, One reaching at 9.38 and another leaving at 9.43. And dot 9.43 it would be, you could probably adjust your watch to match the trains arrival and departures, its was amazing!

Going to Montreux all alone, sitting and having beer with sister at Bern, talking as usual of old times and things hinting that it might lead to a fight. But maybe the beer or age kept us mellow.Walking up to rose garden and the splendid view of the city from there, P.R.I.C.E.L.E.S.S

All that will follow in other posts, but let me substantiate this post with few pictures

Me and my sis, on my first day at Vevey, at beer festival

 Me and my Aduli - my niece and my friend

Thats me and her 8 years back, time ran out on us

We girls, when we landed at Evian(France)

It's a man's world

Yes it is!
In-spite of all the efforts, all feminism, all this sho-sha about women being equal..there are numerous ways and things in our system which ultimately make you feel so.

I have been planning for a trip abroad. When I applied for VISA, I got a checklist of things to be submitted. One of which said:
   - An NOC(No objection certificate) from husband, if married.
That irked me, but since I dint need to bother about it, I went ahead and provided NOC from my company.

The travel agent lady who was arranging for my VISA, went thru all my documents and sheepishly said: "Can you arrange an NOC from your father also, since you are a single female?"
I frowned and asked "But I have given you from my company, and I am not a minor"
To that she said "We dont want to take chances and sometimes VISA people might ask for it"
I further asked, with chagrin "And if I were a single male, that would not have been necessary?"

She promptly replied "No. no..not for males"
I stared at her in disbelieve and must have borne the most hideous expression, since she just smiled at me in exasperation(with a look saying, this is how the system goes)

I mean, what kind of crap is this? I am a full blown adult, who has been providing for my parents too, in small ways..yet I need to provide all that cos I am a single woman?

What if I am a tyrant and ask my husband on gun point to give me NOC, or torture my father to provide me an NOC? How the hell will they validate?

This stupid system we are in & this stupid country(or maybe its the same everywhere)

Anyways, all that bullshit had to be borne by me and had to provide everything, for all the pleasure that awaits me

So Yes, I am off

To a place with mountains

Where the smell of cheese and chocolates is in the air

And intoxication of wine pervades the nights

I hope to find a lost piece of my heart there

Bye and laterz.. with pics and details of the trip(Just wish that weather remains as good as it is right now, and no rains)

While on the way to work, my iPod was playing this song:

"Hansne ki chaah ne kitna mujhe rulaaya hai"
(The desire to laugh has made me cry so much)

I dont believe in indulging in self pity, yet the simplicity of this song can melt you heart

The first line is so terrific, that each time I hear, it makes me think and feel different things.
And the soulful voice of Manna dey gives it the edge of hopeless melancholy

The flute which starts the song, sets the mood. It has a bong touch to it, reminds me of trees and shadows

Hear it if you like to be beautifully sad at times, and love your sadness

She and Me

No, she is not my role model. There are so many things I would have wanted her to do differently
Be bolder, stand up for what she wanted and deserved, not be a push over..are some of the thing

I believe in breaking things rather than preserving thier ashes
If something does not work out, get rid of it..anything if not wanted in its totality is a clutter..and life should be free of clutter
But she keeps asking me to preserve, to hold on to things till they fall out of my hands without my mistake
And I either get irritated or laugh at her stale values

Yet, when I speak a harsh word with anyone, when I shout at auto-rickshaw guy, I have this nagging feeling of going an notch below in my image in her eyes

Cos I was always this soft girl, who could not fight the world(Now all I do si fight)

No, she was not a dancer. I dont know whose genes I inherited for the danseuse in me.

"हट बे निखाटू गंवारवा मैं तेरे संग ना जाउंगी " - My mother would teach us this dance in her clumsy, faltering, endearing way

Yet to me, till date, thats my sweetest memory of anything close to sweetness

No, she might not be so good in English, or have had as good an education as we had, or maybe we were a tad better student than her

Yet, my oldest  memory of education is about her asking me to write 100 times in a book, something I could not remember easily

My purest feelings, my overwhelming love and my maddening  anger, I feel only for her

Happy mother's day Ma!

माँ और माँ की जाई 

Committing the felony of Eating, praying, loving..

I bought this book "Eat,Pray,Love" (Elizabeth Gilbert), from a roadside hawker, few months back. Those xeroxed ones.
But after reading 229 pages of it, I realized it started repeating the previous pages and many of the pages in between were lost.

So I went back to that place and asked him to exchange it.
He said, he dint have any copy of that book with him anymore, and added
     "Why dont you read 'Committed", its from the same author".
As if the same author means the same book?!
I dint want to read "Committed", so I said I will wait for "Eat,Pray,Love",

I kept going to him, once every week, and this continued for a month
And each time, he tried handing me "Committed".
Finally I thought I will bargain for some other book with him.

But I desperately wanted to read that book so I started trying at other places.

I encompassed a whole of 4 kilometers around my area for that book, and interestingly none of them had it. And EACH one of them tried handing over "Committed" to me.(With the same story about how its from the same author)

This began amusing me, and then I deliberately started asking any hawker I saw, for this book Knowing fully well he wont have it. Just to see if he offers me "Committed" or not. And they all did!

After a while I started feeling as if this was some sign.
As if God was trying to tell me "You have done enough of eating, praying and loving,  now its time to go "Committed"!"

I finally exchanged my "Eat, Pray,Love" with "Committed", from the original shop.
But I wont be opening a page from that book, unless I find and finish my "Eat,Pray,Love"

I am adamant to finish all my eating, praying and loving...till its time for "Committed"..
And the time is never right...unless it feels absolutely right

I wonder if all the mystery in me, my joie de vivre, my humour, my wit will be enough to survive a witless, lackluster, self obsessed, insipid man. Sometimes I get a feeling, it just might.
I dont really need to find my equal.
If yes, then marriage is good, if no then its scary
Cos in the end, it will only be me..its all about me

You will not be lost

If ever you thought you lost any part of you
Come to me
I have all your parts intact, within me

If you feel you lost your mirth,
I will give back that you to you
Who smiled as he got up from bed and winked at me
And I knew, that the day dint belong to me anymore

If you have any doubts about your worth
I will be your reminder
Of how you wiped my fears

All the light, all the shine in you
Are etched in my recess, threaded in my pores
You just have to see me, and be reminded of your glory

If right now you feel like nothing
Remember me, and you will become all that a man like you is meant to be

If I exist, rest assured none of you will be lost ever
We will be in love again
With someone like each other

A poetess like me

I follow a blog which puts up great work by various artists from various streams and its a delightful blog for me. There are rare songs, poems by writers I was not aware of. One such I came across recently was "Nikki Giovanni". This blog translates everything in hindi, which was beautiful. But I knew the English would be much more, and I searched and fell in love with her many poems which I read. She felt close to heart, a natural, a lover. There is a poem which resembles a line from my hindi poem which I had written ages ago


I am sharing lines from some of the poems I found stunning

 "Cotton Candy on a Rainy Day"

Don't look now

I'm fading away

Into the gray of my mornings

.........

I try I become more difficult to hold

I am not an easy woman to want

They have asked the psychiatrists . . . psychologists . . . politicians and social workers

What this decade will be known for

There is no doubt . . . it is loneliness

-------

"Choices"

if i can't do
what i want to do
then my job is to not
do what i don't want
to do

--
This specific poem written below is the one which made me feel I had written something very very similar way back

"The way I feel"(Ahh this is one of my labels on this blog)

i've  noticed I am happier

when i make love 

with you

and i have enough left to

smile at my doorman

 i've realized i'm fulfilled

like a big fat cow

who was just picked

for a carnation contentment

when u kiss your special place

right behind my knee

most time when you are around

i feel like a note

reberta flack is going to sing

And the lines which struck me with deja-vu are following

in my mind you are a clock

and i'm the secodn hand sweeping

around you sixty times an hour

twenty-four times a day

Sample these lines by me, in one of my hindi poems which I had written way back in 1998, in my diary and had posted it on my blog in 2008, here
http://memoriesofaworldelsewhere.blogspot.in/2008/06/some-love-poems.html

तुम जब चाहो मुझे देखोगे और मेरा दिल सिमट आएगा तुम्हारे पास
तुम्हारी आँखें मेरी धूरी हैं
चाहे जहाँ भी जाऊं मैं , केंद्र तुम ही रहोगे
(When you look at me, my heart will come back to you
Your eyes are my pivot
Wherever I am, you will be my center)



Ohh..sweet love, how you feel so strange when you are gone
Was I ever like this.?

4 more years went since I wrote this on the blog too??? Unbelievable. I feel I started this blog so recently

So we were at 2 different parts of the world, thinking alike..

There are other poems which I loved by her, but the last one I want to share here is this

"Communication"

if music is the most universal language

just think of me as one whole note

if science has the most perfect language

then think of me as MC(square)

what i mean is one day

i'm gonna grab your love

and you will be satisfied

Blissful read is each of her writing, and she has the most endearing face and smile

 
 

Cliche'

I try to run away from the cliched, and look for novelty..all the time..in smallest thing

A cliched joke, a cliched look, a cliched phrase..gets on to me like a parasite
The agony of living the already lived..a disgusting second hand experience

When one knows the effect of something one says, the effect is lost already
Innocence of not knowing your own charm, charms me like anything

Maybe thats why kids make my heart swell with love and happiness
They dont know what they are, unless they grow up

If you really mean something, never say it and make it a passé

In distress if someone tells you "Let it go"..you lose respect for that person, cos you know this person will never try and get into your shoes to know whats hurting and would just harp about the "Let go" mantra, oft repeated

"I am the girl who loves the rain and likes to get drenched in it" - When a girl tells me that, I lose interest in anything else that she has to say..cos I know there will be more of cliche coming my way

"I like to break rules, and live by my own" - When I guy says that, I want to ask him where did he learn this from?

I would rather be quiet than say the same thing said by many in the same situation..time and again

I say beautiful things when no-one is noticing, but the moment people start expecting...I go kaput

Give me a moment, a word, a sentiment never experienced before
When tears come cos of nostalgic happiness...sadness does not bring them

Everything beautiful in life is a way to nostalgia..
A song, a face, a fragrance ..
Making the heart heavy with beauty of everything that can be deemed beautiful in this world

And cliche can never be beautiful

I wish I could break my own cliche, 
Could I be that coquette, with those sultry eyes?
The one who woos men in the bar
I wish I knew my power beyond what I know

if love is a cliche too, then lets resort to lust

तेरी निगाहें पा गयी राहें , पर तू ये सोचे जाऊं न जाऊं न जाऊं

ये जिंदगी जो है नाचती तो, क्यों बेड़ियों में हैं तेरे पाँव ?

प्रीत की धुन पे नाच ले पागल, उड़ता अगर है उड़ने दे आँचल

काहे कोई अपने को ऐसे तरसाए ?  

(Your eyes have found the path you wanted to tread,
But you keep thinking if you should go along
This life, which dancing around you,
Then why are your feet in chains?
Dance on the tunes of love,silly
Let your veil blow away, if it has to
why should one keep oneself deprived?)

This heart is again looking for a wintry affair, this summer

When the coffee gets cold, cos the talks could not

An article and my views

Recently read this interesting article by David Bentley Hart, on Ayn Rand's writings and I cant help but agree with few not-so-good things there, even though I have been her hard-core follower. She had always affected my mind many a times in things I said or felt.
Yet there was always a dormant desire in me. to defy her theories, at times, just in small bits

http://www.firstthings.com/article/2011/05/the-trouble-with-ayn-rand

But this article is such a venomous take on her, why so much angst for a woman who just spoke what she felt was right?

Some excerpts from this article:

"Ayn Rand and her idiotic “Objectivism” are enjoying a—well, I won’t call it a renaissance, so let’s say a recrudescence"

"Civilization is always a fragile accommodation at best, precariously poised between barbarism on one side and decadence on the other...Rand was definitely on the side of barbarism."

Barbarism, how?

Though I some what agree with this "I suspect that charity really is the only way to avoid wasting one’s life in a desert of sterile egoism".

And I so not agree with this line

 "And, simply said, I cannot find much common ground with someone who believed that the principal source of human woe over the last twenty centuries has been a tragic shortage of selfishness.".

Maybe selfishness is not the single source, but one of the strongest source. Cos the definition of being selfish, as per her, is not as generally defined by us. So we need to take that in the context and not a stand alone thing.

I just laughed my head off at this: "For what really puts both Atlas Shrugged and The Fountainhead in a class of their own is how sublimely awful they are. "

The mentality of the herd against someone who stands out is so much around, and fills me with disgust.

When I appreciate something brilliant in other, I am pacifying that part of me which could not be all that brilliant.
But if I negate, make it sound ordinary, then there is just one word for such people "jealous".
They are condemning themselves by denying others uniqueness

Just cos they could not be unique, they try to form a herd of people, who would profess to believe in that no-one is unique, all are the same
But silently, and cleverly, they would ry to establish their upper hand on the other, by forming incomprehensible sentences to intimidate the other. And finally telling that you are ordinary, but I am not, since I know I am ordinary....ha!

People look for redemption in others, for their own misery, they always want to hold someone responsible

As Ryan Said : “They hate you for the greatness of your achievement. They hate you for your integrity. They hate you because they know they can neither corrupt nor ruin you” -  I also say that people hate you for your strength, people hate you cos you dont fall apart, people hate you cos you dont even regard them with a hate and intensity which they ask of you.
Some strands of recognition is all they need, from you

But the side note on this line,in that articel, is really funny (Bloody they—I never could stand those swine.)

:D

Not a bad article in all,it is the author's interpretation and personality which s/he reflects in hi/.her likings and disliking. So has he done it here. But nevertheless, I found it harmless & funny.

He reminded me of that novel again by writing such excerpts : For her, the world really was starkly divided between creators and parasites, and the vast majority of humanity belonged to the ranks of the latter. “I came here to say I do not recognize anyone’s right to one minute of my life,” Roark continues, “nor to any part of my energy, nor to any achievement of mine.”

I absolutely loved that part in "Fountainhead", And just for this, I can be in love with her!

 I had written a similar draft in my post which said(though the context here is different) :
"Well, another has only as much hold on you, as much as you give them at any point in time
Never more!
So if someone wishes to be obsessed with you, but if you wish to extricate yourself. You have all the right to. Everything gone in between you 2, before has no meaning. All that we have is today, and today I am allowed to despise someone, and stay away.
One cant hold a moment of past in their kitty to hunt someone down.
Unless of course I have killed someone, or tortured, then I cease to be human and no human rights are not applicable to me"

This paragraph in the article made sense to me in bits and pieces, but not really, cos Ryan emphasized on these attributes, but not denied that there can not be anything apart form this.(If she did then maybe in my mind I have obliterated it)

"Rand really imagined that there could ever be a man whose best achievements were simply and solely the products of his own unfettered and unaided will. She had no concept of grace, even of the ordinary kind: the grace of an existence we do not give ourselves, of natural powers with which we could never have endowed ourselves, and of all those other persons on whom even the strongest among us are dependent. She lacked any ennobling sense that what lies most deeply within us also comes from impossibly far beyond us, as an unmerited gift. She liked to talk about “virtue” a great deal—meaning primarily strength of will and the value that one creates out of one’s own native resources—but for her the only important question regarding the relation between the individual and society was who has a right to what. That is, admittedly, a question that must be asked at various times, but it is never the question that true virtue—true strength—asks of itself."

But Kudos to this para, I know some people who do exactly this, so I just clapped my hands in glee for saying what exactly I have in my mind:

"And, really, what can one say about Objectivism? It isn’t so much a philosophy as what someone who has never actually encountered philosophy imagines a philosophy might look like: good hard axiomatic absolutes, a bluff attitude of intellectual superiority, lots of simple atomic premises supposedly immune to doubt, immense and inflexible conclusions, and plenty of assertions about what is “rational” or “objective” or “real."

Beyond that I could not concentrate more, since too much of negative energy anywhere is not my cup of tea.Thats why I restrain from beign sarcastic, mean and vomit my hatred for anyone in paper.

“There are two ways through life,the way of nature and the way of grace. We have to choose which one to follow.” ~ The Tree Of Life
I choose grace, let others choose their real nature

So Mr.David, you do have substance and potential. Please use it constructively and not by attacking one Ms. Rand

My life, my opium

I trudged along, carrying those heavy grocery laden bags in my hand, my huge vanity bag on my shoulder and some other stuff.
I had vowed I would not take and auto, I needed to feel some pain.

Drudgery of the day added to all of it, and it started getting difficult with each step.

I am a girl of petite frame and soft skin, so soon I could see red marks on my palm, where the carry bag strips met them.

But I dint pity myself,
 At that moment I realized there was some sanity in religious fanatics flagellating themselves and crying "Haaye Hassan", the self-inflicted pain can be a source of derisive pleasure at times. I felt avenged of myself, of all my sins
I felt it was a way of punishing myself

Punishment for being with wrong people, at right times of my life
Punishment for  learning driving and having a license, yet not having enough guts to start driving
Punishment for absconding from my blog, for irrelevant people
Punishment for not being able to ignore things, and letting my anger get the better of me
Punishment for devouring life, treating it like a play-thing, submerging my life in my whims, meeting it headlong, trying to give it back in rage, as it gave me opportunities in love

But my red marks were threatening to become a bruise and I could not walk even for 30 seconds at stretch, with all that weight.
So I started taking short breaks, stopping and just looking around, and having other people give me weird looks
After a good ten minutes, there was a bus stop and I thought of sitting on the bench and just relaxing my palms

I was listlessly looking around, when I saw these 2 women, talking and laughing

They seemed so much one with happiness, on a high.
They were nudging, teasing, mocking...(I took their pic, but came too dark so I posted one from net)

I laugh cos like is happening to me

I looked at them closely, trying to decipher the source of their high

Were they young?

Youth is a high in itself, as if the world is yours and waits for you to laugh
But they seemed well in their 50s

Were they gorgeous?

Beauty, of the kind which makes the world go weak in knees, makes the owner of the beauty giddy at times
They feel the world belongs to them, and waits on them
But no, they were not the conventional traffic stoppers either

Were they high on their richness?

But that could not be, else they would not be waiting for a bus

And it pleasantly struck me, they were high on life
This life, as it was then, in that moment...
They were high on their everyday-ness, the same mornings and evenins

Past and future were in limbo
At least for those moments

And I instantly scribbled this in my notepad:

I have looked for highs on mountain and cliffs

But realized,  there is a high in every low

For every trough, there is a crest

Sinusoidal wave, this life is

My life, my opium

So I threw my head back, let my hair fall all around, picked up the bags and headed home, stopping at a medical shop to get some ointment for the bruise.
Hoping that tomorrow morning, all  my scars would be healed.
And they will be, nothing in life is permanent

Note - It was good to be away, but its better to be back. 
Packed with armor of my arrogance, and power to ignore the ignorables

I feel I am averse to human interaction. I try to minimize human interaction in my life, in strange ways

At work, if someone calls me for coffee, I make excuses not to be with them.
If I am waiting for the lift, and I see more people, I tend to take stairs. I feel suffocated being in that small place with possibility of another human touching me
I avoid calls, from one and all
My boss has told me umpteen times to be cordial, yet I can not be

I feel like having a circle of protection around me, thru which people see me, but can not come near..
Its like I am trying to pave my way thru life's garbage, by sweeping them aside

But as you know, garbage has a tendency to splash itself on you
I get a speck of dirt, and I feel dirty like hell..for the mere fact that I tried protecting myself so much against it

And for a moment I wish to indulge in that dirt, to set it right, to put it in place
But if you know dirt, its not ashamed of itself, it regales in its shamelessness and crassness, and for the mere fact of lack of shame, dirt has the immense possibility of ruining you

And why do I wish to reduce humans in life?
Its cos I feel anyone else is just a mood dampener, some or the other time they will surely do that. But they will not be there to uplift my spirits, its only I and solely I who can do that to myself

So I guess someone is in your life, just for themselves, just for the fact what you bring to them, never for you, never for what you want from them

For me this blog world was that world away from that mess of humans
But gradually it has ceased to be..for it has proven to be means for unwanted interactions by absurd creatures
Its been causing me more anguish than the real world

Maybe its time to stop, and think and rejuvenate

I dont know if I can, since I am addictive by nature

I see women who devote themselves to their marriage, husband and the likes
They are not in love with their husbands, yet they try to keep themselves pure

I see men, who sleep around, not in love with anyone, wife or the other woman, yet try to put the blame on the other woman who thought it was all love

What does it make me feel about men in general..no riddle
I have known the innocence..and now I know the charade
Its enough for me to want nothing more from life, than what it has already laden me with

But then there have been people who have loved me here, who have been with me many a times, should I let them down?

So Let me re-think, let me reorganize, let me resurrect..till then..just help me with it..and let me decide if I wish to share anything to this world, which is a farce...

Sometimes I feel like cradling myself like I cradle my nephew, and rock myself and whisper "its all a nightmare..it will end..you will be in your fairy land again"

And yes, to hell with women's day..once again...again and again

He - "You are so righteous about everything. So you think you have not done anything wrong in life? I am sure you have, you need to think about it"

She - " I must have done something terribly wrong, else I would not be sitting across someone like you, and gave you the slightest leeway to say what you are saying to me right now."

A happy day

Inspite of a yesterday where my anger nerves were threating to smash some people's head, and my blood surged upto my head...I always dreamt of a beautiful tomorrow

And this tomorrow did start beautifully when I saw this comment(in the form of an award) from Pygmalion's space in heart



Liebster - a German word meaning - beloved, dearest, favorite ..(Yeah copy paste from Pygmalion)

Its not an award for the brainy ones, but a token of heart..and I love them. So much sweeter!

A few words about her : I got to know her through another blogger(Chintan from Blunt Blogger) and instantly fell in love with her honesty and warmth. She is someone who is wishing to live by the rules of her heart. Some people might learn how to be sweet and honest together, from her

I have seen a lot of awards floating around the blog-world, some for a reason some without. And I never believed in them.
So, when I first saw this, I was like..who, ME???

Hmm....so 4.5 years of brain-drain, avoiding the avoidable ones, loving the lovely ones...does get you something deserving sometimes :)

About the rules, if you accept the award:
You must pass on the award to five other bloggers; however, they must have less than 200 followers

You must then let every nominee know that they have been given the award

You must display the award on your blog

The last 2 are pretty easy, difficult is the first one. I cant muster 5 names right now. Nevertheless, here is my list:

1. Syed - When men grow, they become insane, insipid and sedated. But I like the way this man has managed to retain his charm of youth, dilemma and heartache of an adult, and maturity of his age
2. Wildflower - She has somewhat become incommunicado for many months. Yet when I read her, I feel its a part of me which I have severed religiously from myself. And she has held on to it, religiously
3. Sayantan- Love his style of writing. Intense, suave, boyish and heart felt.Also the fact that he has become a friend I sometimes like to rant about life and people in general, makes him a Liebster
4. Ankur - He writes as if he has gotten into the mind of a woman, many a times a woman like me.

Beyond this my mind was a blank since rest I like have more than 200 followers or so..so my last pick is a bit of a cheat
5. Ed - He had a blog earlier, but now he writes here. His writing is majestic and a treat to avid readers like me. Though he does not qualify for the award on one ground, i.e. he has more than 200 followers, but could not think of any other right away. I would not have fulfilled this parameter anyways, cos if not him, I would have missed citing the last favorite blogger :)

Since we are on learning new words, here is one I learnt recently(And have written on this blog earlier)
Leman - In french, means a lover. What a beautiful word!

Osmosis

When all the hate is gone, maybe cos of time or cos of your own prejudices giving way
Then there is an osmosis

Osmosis is a movement of solvent from the less concentrated to the more concentrated solution,, which tends to reduce the difference in concentrations

So when the hatred and anger moves out of their portion in my heart, all the love comes gushing in, soaking me in it

Cos there is only so much love that you can muster, only so much hatred that you can give, only so much grief which you are capable of feeling

Like a pendulum, which can oscillate only in the confines of its highest amplitude

What after that?

So I sit there, in love with all of them, whom I have hated earnestly

Workaholics

I have a theory for workaholics. And please dont judge me for that

I think workaholics are the ones who derive their self-esteem only and only from their work. They are the ones with no great talent, no interest in anything apart from what brings them money

This whole idea of working 16 hours at work and even burning your Saturdays on excel, blackberry, clients is just beyond me

I could have been something bigger(by societal definitions), had I spent the same amount of time at work as many others.

But I need my outlets, I need to run away all the time..that is what defines me

I am happy with what I earn, which might be much less than what people with my qualification and experience might be earning in general

I have heard that I am not ambitious enough, but that pricks me only for a bit..nothing more nothing less

I dont feel envious of any one's life..thats good enough for me. I just have one answer to all this - I dont lead their lives and they dont lead mine. We will never know who is happier and how!

What do I need in life?

I have a house which I can call my own.
When I feel like buying a dress, I dont think twice.
I can take a vacation once in a while and go some place nice, stay at a nice place..eat at best hotels..all on my own accord.

And God has endowed me with this admirable capability to wish and crave for only what I can afford, as on date. Cravings increase as I increase my salary.

I might not own a Gucci bag worth $2000 but I am happy with my hi-design. I may not be able to afford a trip to Venice right away, but the pretty places around me captivate me equally.

If I buy a jeans from commercial which hugs my body better than yours, which might be 4 times in price, then I have no qualms in standing next to you. Does that make you look better or me?

I give definition to what I wear, its not otherwise. One just needs confidence in themselves in any and everything that they do. And brands cant buy you confidence. If they do, then you seriously need to sit back and think about who you are.

God has a design for all of us

People often tell me, you are in wrong profession. You are way too artistic and talented to be in IT.
Why dint you take up dancing as career? You can still take up writing seriously!
Dint you ever want to go for modelling?

There are times I feel that if I dont work, there will still me so much of life in me and so many interests to pursue.
Sometimes I feel like leaving all of this and submerging in dance, or maybe indulge in writing, or devote to yoga ..there are so many mysteries in the world I have not unraveled..and anything might interest me..the moment I realise my interest and aptitude for it
Then there is fashion which interests me, sometimes I see something good and feel that I can improvise on this to make it better. I gain interest in types of fabrics, types of design and feel like starting something of my own

But with time and self-reading, I have realised that answer to all that is NO.
I would never want to make things I am passionate about, a means to meet my ends.
Am happy to go to a dance class and learn dance from someone whom I could have taught, had a taken it too seriously. Writing on this blog and having few people like what I write is good enough for me

The day I turn all this into a profession, or any of it...The day I try making it more serious and rational..I will lose it all
Then they will become what my work is to me right now, something to keep me busy and provide EMI for my house loan..thats all!
And I would never like that.

So it fine with me to go about my day uninspired, but have a cocoon in my heart where all my desires lie

The dance, the blog..my happy places to be
With this consolation that inspite of my job, I have a life away from it..and IF IF I wish to leave job..I will still have that life inside me
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Having said all that there is a small confession to make. There is this man in my project, an American. He is the heart of this project. Must be 50. Married 3 times(so I heard) and looks fit as a fiddle.
This guy has impressed me like noone else did in a long long time. His passion for this project has defined this project for all of us. He is online his time early morning, our time afternoon...like a ghost he is always present.
He supersedes everyone, from technical to domain to logistics to process to..god knows what. Its amazing how some 100s of us can be so preoccupied with what we do and not have much idea about what others are doing in the same project. But he has answers to each one of us, to the smallest detail

But I got to know he resigned yesterday. Reason - His health is not keeping up with his pace of work. He has something wrong with his heart and has been advised rest for many months. And when he gets back, he would start his own business

Was very sad yesterday cos of this.And I wished I had the same fire in me for this kind of work, but that wish lasted only for a fraction of time, and fizzled out the very next moment I went to you tube to watch a scene from some Italian movie