surrender....

Whirling emotions, a vortex of desire,
intertwining of passion
the need to surrender
the need to take over
as the blazing sun sets and rises again
soft whispers, bold caresses
hearts racing, love surging
giving and taking
pining and breaking
shattering into a thousand pieces
the sense of whole, of complete

Delhi Diaries

Today seemed to be a healthy morning. The past few days I’ve been feeling low and kind of useless since I have not much work here in Delhi. Not that I have much work now either. But that is normal as long as I’m sitting in one place and waiting around to go to the next place.


So anyway, back to the “healthy morning.” Not counting the paratha and aloo bhaji that I was forced to eat at the restaurant on the ground floor of the hotel, I did do 6 sets of surya namaskar and the pleasure I felt while unravelling my body and stiff muscles is incomparable. Well I wouldn’t say completely, but still. I also had an apple when I was hungry since I’m at the hotel all day today.

Well, I’m at Delhi and this is the fourth time I have been here. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to sight see in this fascinating capital of India—mostly because of work, and mostly because my boss isn’t as adventurous as I am, and I’m hardly adventurous, and mostly because I hesitate to move out alone to go as a tourist. But I am waiting for the day when I travel to Delhi, alone of course, and take in the sights and smells as a tourist. I want to go to Chandni chowk, see the Jama Masjid, feel the thrill of seeing the India gate and Rashtrapathi Bhavan. Go to Akshardham, shop at Janpath.

I’m looking forward to someday getting that kind of freedom, till then I guess I’m bound to the healthy mornings and feeling of being useless…

Things I do when Im at work and have nothing to do...

Here is a list of the things I do when Im at work and have nothing to do!

1. Topping my list is chatting. I chat with a few close, select friends.
2. Facebooking. Now, this involves a great deal of concentration. Flipping through statuses, profiles, photos, comments....the list goes on.
3. Playing games. Usually Id play games like crazy taxi or Restaurant City. Off late its been Bejewelled and Peggle.
4. Day Dreaming. This particular activity has passed on from school days. I can stare into space and think about future plans, reminisce about the past.
5. Blogging. I get these spurts of creativity, or boredom, and then begin to write:)
6. Go through the editorial of the magazine and check and re check the status and follow ups. (note that this comes somewhere toward the end)
7. Work on my freelancing jobs. Well, it is my bread and butter.
8. Think of how I can leave work early, so that I can do something constructive, like running after a train or cursing a rickshaw guy.
9. Make a mental list of things to do and which I never have the time to do.
10. Sleep. Never knew the joy of falling asleep on your laptop, oblivious to the rest of the world!!

Food, Food, Glorious Food.

I am a self-confessed foodie. I love everything to do with food, from buying/seeing/choosing fresh groceries in the early morning; to the chopping, blending, mashing, kneading; to the baking, cooking, sauteing, frying; to the smelling and finally, the eating!

Now you may think that the reason I'm pleasantly plump (thats what I like to think of myself as!) is because of all this food. But, fortunately, that is not the case.

You see, I have never had the craving for cheese! Chocolates, yes, but not cheese. Wherever possible, I like to substitute the fatty stuff with healthier options. So its maida with atta, butter with ghee, cheese with NO cheese.

I recently bought an OTG (oven toaster grill), which brings me back to my first love. The 'ding' of the oven once my cake is baked is music to my ears.

So, getting to the point, I have already baked garlic bread, readymix brownies, and paneer tikka in this super-duper oven of mine. I was sooo excited yesterday when I bought all my baking supplies that I couldnt help but announce it to the world. Have even posted a few pics on Facebook!!!!!!!

Just waiting to make the apple crumb cake now. and then apple pie, and pizza, and baked potatoes, and double fudge brownies, and ......the list goes on!!

questions...

times when i wonder whether all this struggling, fighting, hoping, dreaming is worth it. What if what is meant to be is just doom? im in this self pitying mode where i can see only wat is negative in my life. i hate it, but i guess im entitled to it once in awhile. im tired of all this, all the unsurety, insecurity, instability, the wondering whether my choices are right, my actions are correct, my path is relatively unstrewn with thorns.
Am i being stubbron? stubborn tht i want what i want, what i have dreamt. but am i then not a fool to give so much and not expect any thing in return? so now im counting my sacrifices, my compromises so am i not an opportunist, throw it in their faces when im most frustrated, most tired?
dunno....i just knw tht as i go down the path i choose, i will have to draw on all my strength and make things work. I just wish it wasnt a one-man show!

the joys and sorrows of living alone...Part 1

So, what is the first thing that you say when you hear that two girls live alone in a flat in Mumbai, the city that never sleeps?


Few of the common things I’ve heard are,

“Wow! Your so lucky, no parental supervision.”

“No deadlines at home!! “

“No mom breathing down your neck.”

“So cool! You can eat whatever you want.”

“If I was you id order out every day!! “

“The number of sleepovers you can have!!! Too cool! “



Well, in the beginning, I won’t deny that my roomie, Pragya, and I had a few similar thoughts. In fact, the first two months were a whirlwind of eating out and going for movies. Till we realised that we had burned major holes in our pockets. At that time, although I was earning, it was barely enough to meet rent, and Pragya could definitely not ask her parents for more money considering they had just sent her some a few days ago!!!

Slowly, the excitement faded. Reality bit!

We desperately needed a servant to do the basic cleaning. And there ensued the servant hunt. Today, we have the same bai working for us, who does a shoddy job, but we’re merely grateful that she does it at all.

Now, no matter how much you eat out, one day you are going to wake up and say, “I want home food”!! Thankfully, I love cooking and Pragya also learnt the basics. But what to cook? Every day was a feat. That was when we realised what we would put our mothers thru when we would say “phir se wahi khana?? (the same food, yet again??).”

Sure, we had a zillion friends coming over and as they came and went it was fun. But then, after a point you need your space, no??

Two years of college (plus working for me) passed, and today we both handle full time jobs. Where is the time to watch a movie, when we barely see each other in the week? Eating out has become more of a necessity than a novelty. The bai comes in the morning, still does her shoddy work and leaves. The gas is almost over, and I ran around to get the work done coz they (if you please!) blocked our account since we hadn’t ordered for a new cylinder since 8 months!! Now, is that our fault if the same cylinder is still working, though we are in constant fear that it will give out in between our dal making?? (P.S. still no new gas)

When we come home, most of us are used to being served a warm meal, our clothes are washed and folded, the dishes are done, the beds are made. But coming home from work is another ordeal.

So thankfully, we divide the work between us. If I wash the dishes, she does the clothes; if I make the sabzi, she does the chapatti. But, it doesn’t end here!! We have to fill the water filter, sell the news paper raddi, buy the groceries, veggies; the list can go on and on.

My point here is that, cherish the parental supervision while you have it, cherish the small odd chores you’re made to do in the day. Because when you gotta do it urself, then living alone doesn’t seem so much fun any more.



(P.S. Do watch out for my next post on the advantages of staying alone :D)

my dreams are bursting at the seams...

I'm a simple girl.

I've lived my life in a protected environment. I would'nt say pampered, but protected, nevertheless. As a child I never thought of the future. What would I be when I'm twenty five. What kind of guy would I want to marry. Would things like community, caste, religion, really matter? As I grew up and adolescence set in, things began to change, but I was never sure. I had talents, oh I did. But I never bothered to hone them really. I was often called unambitious, never felt that I was really very intelligent. None of the moves I made in life were directed/guided by me, and life went on. I made choices, often not very wise ones, mostly because I was hesitant. Hesitant to go against what everyone else said and to do what I wanted. But then I  was never really sure of what I even wanted.

Today, Im 25 years old. Still struggling to establish my career. And as I see life pass me by, I realise those dormant ambitions within me are waking up. I have simple demands; Id like to think that Im not that complicated.

I want security. Which is something, i believe, everyone wants. But as I see my self struggling everyday, for the past three years (though Im sure other people are going thru worse) I see that I want more. Prolly more than people want to or can give me, and then I look within myself to bring out that security; like they all say, i am alone in this world, i came alone, ill die alone.

I have come upon a very impoirtant decision in my life. Something major in everyone's lives and somehow, now, given my compromises, struggling, sacrifices and tears, i just want to make it perfect.

My dreams are bursting at the seams. But is it all too much to ask for? Isnt security a simple enough demand? 

I AM A TCK

You must be wondering what TCK stands for. Well read on and you'll know.


Without meaning to brag, i would say im quite different from many people.

• Ive lived 17 years of my life as an NRI.
• Im rather biased toward foreign maal, read: chocolates, soaps, Mountain Dew, chips, Pizza Hut Pizzas, the roads, traffic.
• For me, India is a novelty, and only after 8 yrs of being in Mumbai, can i call it home. I must be one of the few Non-Mumbaiites who can call Mumbai home.
• I rely more on friends, than on relatives.(where were they when we needed them)
• The Aamchi community is something of a novelty for me.
• I have a zillion friends ranging from Indians, to Pakistanis, to Lebanese, to Srilankans.
• I can differentiate between life here and life there in a neutral manner, and though Oman wins almost all the accolades, I would never wanna stay there again. 

TCK is third culture/transculture Kid.
Definition: Someone who, as a child, has spent a significant period of time in one or more culture(s) other than his or her own, thus integrating elements of those cultures, and their own birth culture, into a third culture.

helpless...

a myriad colours burst in her face
a myriad emotions cloud her mind.

as the world spins around,
she flails her arms

searching for someone,
something, to hold on to

hope...

I had written this quite a few months ago and just found it in my drafts.....
posting it so that no thought, emotion or feeling of mine gets lost in the myriad complications of life



so many things i don't want u to be

so many things u are

so many things u want me to be

so many things im not. 

so much to change

so much to sacrifice...

nothing is as we want

there always is a price

where does this all end?

when do we call the quits?

how can we live and love?

how can we believe in us?

as life moves on and hopes and aspirations build

along comes fear, and pain and joy

hope warms the ice cold heart

i look toward what we may be tomorrow

i hope to see what we are today

the future looks far away and dim

but i hope that things are how we want them to be

in a boat, by DH Lawrence

From Amores, (1916).




See the stars, love,

In the water much clearer and brighter

Than those above us, and whiter,

Like nenuphars.



Star-shadows shine, love,

How many stars in your bowl?

How many shadows in your soul,

Only mine, love, mine?



When I move the oars, love,

See how the stars are tossed,

Distorted, the brightest lost.

So that bright one of yours, love.



The poor waters spill

The stars, waters broken, forsaken.

The heavens are not shaken, you say, love,

Its stars stand still.



There, did you see

That spark fly up at us; even

Stars are not safe in heaven.

What of yours, then, love, yours?



What then, love, if soon

Your light be tossed over a wave?

Will you count the darkness a grave,

And swoon, love, swoon?

as things crash down on me,
i feel bereft...the loss is unbearable..
all i had was trust, all it was was faith...
was it that easy to break?
was it that easy to take for granted?
was that all my feelings meant to you?

Religion---one of the most controversial subjects that has been subjected to heated debates over and over the years…

There are god-fearing people, there are atheists, and then there are agnostics. I wouldn’t know which category I come under, but I sure do know what I feel about religion. Religion, to me, is personal, intimate. It’s a one-to-one relationship with God. It’s more intimate than the love for your partner or for your child. It’s an unwavering faith in the Almighty, the shoulder to lean on when in need, the one to look up to when lost, and the one to rejoice with and thank when satisfied.

Many a word has been said about religion and about the various religions that the population of the world shares. Despite being one of the most controversial and, albeit, touchy topics ever discussed, I shall nonetheless exercise my right of speech to express my feelings and maybe a dash of cynicism toward religion.

God, for me, is ONE…Although by religion I am a Hindu, I have no qualms in entering a church, a mosque, a dargah, or a temple, be it Jain or otherwise. For me, to be one with God is to be able to connect with Him one a one-on-one basis. As for the rites and rituals that are associated with this entity, I believe that they are mere formalities. However, I do feel that the various rules imposed on us, don’t lie, don’t drink, don’t murder, don’t steal falana falana, are imposed to protect us from the worst sides of ourselves. But not everyone follows this; that doesn’t mean that they are condemned to hell. I’m sure they are, but the worst hell is your conscience or, worse, karma, or the fruits that it begets. And such hell is deserved only by those who in a conscious frame of mind indulge in acts that harm others. What you do to urself, is your problem.

I would like to call myself a person free from the hackles of religion, but I know that somewhere I am bound…bound by my upbringing, that has been instilled and laced with religion and the dependency, less the fear, on God. As a child, I was enchanted with tales of Krishna, the Mahabharatha is one of my favorite epics. I used to light God’s lamp every day. When I came to Mumbai, Ganapati, being by “favorite” god, I used to visit the Siddhivinayak temple on a regular basis. However, somewhere down the line, life got busy and I stopped going. But, does that mean I lost my faith in god? I have made so many mistakes in life, which one of us hasn’t, but never have I felt lost simply because despite my unfortunate circumstances or bad luck with certain situations, I have managed to come out of it.

The same was with churches. One of my favorite churches is the Convent of Jesus and Mary. Its one of the most beautiful churches ive been to and the peace that it gives me is indescribable.

Religion, since time immemorial, has tried to hold on to its devotees, whether it’s the fanatics, the fundamentalists, or the passivists. However, in the bargain it has ensured that its subjects have become so insecure such that for them to accept someone else without the tag of religion is impossible. To do that, would be to go against their religion, their god. But which god, assuming that there is more than one god, has propagated violence through religion? It is the religious heads that encourage this more often than not, using subtle means of blackmail. It’s possible that the sense of power that goes with the job is reiterated and fed at every instance that an individual follows or obeys.

Where does all this stop? It stops when we use the brains that god has endowed us with, the intelligence that we have striven to sharpen. It stops when we stop trying to connect with god through another person and look inside our heart.

.....

i wished for u upon a shooting star,
knelt at the aisle and there u are....

sometimes i wondered what you did to deserve me,
sometimes it seemed we were tad too early...

there have been times i've felt all wrong
and u've come and put me all right

and when i felt ur all but gone
and cried myself to sleep at night

u came along and proved us wrong,
things were as they'd been all along

and now its just u and me,
sitting together probably under a tree

watching a sunset at the beach,
never too far, never out of reach

the bonds all strong
as we move along

through ten million days
of the future we make

and all i can think of is that shooting star
and the aisle that I knelt in those days so far

confusion

Ever since I was old enough to understand what I really wanted to become in life, I remember having wanted to be a psychologist. Contrary to the "I want to be a doctor/teacher when I grow up" dreams, I knew that talking to people, helping people was what I wanted. I was in the eighth standard, with no knowledge whatsoever about psychology, its status in India, etc, etc. I got into Speech and Hearing Therapy thinking that I would make do with even a smattering of psychology. But, for a gamut of reasons, that didn’t work out, and I got the biggest opportunity to pursue my dream. This time, I wasn’t going to screw up. After dragging Amma through all the possible colleges (or rather Amma dragging me), I got into JaiHind College, one of the reputed South Mumbai colleges.

Come the final exams of my second year at college and Annu passed away. I was jerked out of my complacency overnight and thrown into the real world; I became responsible; no more could I have fun and not give a damn about anything even fairly important. Amma and I stayed together and I was in the Third year—juggling cooking, studying, taking tuitions. In the summer, I got the opportunity to work at an esteemed psychiatric clinic, and one of the clinical psychologists there became my role model. Soon, I knew that this was what I wanted to do—clinical psychology. I put in all my efforts into studying for my finals, while battling with typhoid and chicken pox, and I survived. The next step was to get into university and Mumbai University was my goal, but I had no guarantee of getting into Clinical and opted for SNDT University in the bargain.

To support myself, I started working part-time as a copyeditor at a company and attended college, took tuitions and went nuts, in every sense. Anyway, my MA has been more of a joke than a Master’s degree, and I’m now so disillusioned with the field that I cannot consider working here. With half-baked knowledge, not an ounce of skill, I’m expected to go out into that world and influence the life of another individual. I had built a rosy picture of the psychiatric world on the basis of my internship placement, and boy, am I glad that I got to see the real world.

So, now it’s a tug of war between psychology and editing—a field in which I have found that I have a fair amount of talent—where I’m getting the opportunity to establish myself into the editing world. I’m on either side of the rope, or maybe, I am the rope that’s being tugged…

I’m lost, I don’t know whether I should be something within the field I chose and which is my passion—oh, yes! I still love psychology but something for the subject has died ever since I’ve seen its status in India and how backward and unethical we are—or to get into the publishing world and if all goes well, make a name for myself and a different career. 

failure

I've had my share of failure. Not one but many. And as i failed each time, i would withdraw further, cringe and give up. Life had become a constant...my thoughts justified each other. Id lay in bed at night, thinking, wondering, cursing myself for not having the guts to face failure, for not having the guts to be who i was, to be ME.

For me, escapism was the way out...
the door was open, the feet ready to walk out. but the mind was fickle, diffident, changing the moment it was made up....

those days were agony, that time was tortuous and not because of my experiences--those paled in comparison to my thoughts.
I was faithless. I dint have faith in God, in my family, in myself...

The mind is a funny entity. it can torture u no end, but can fool u into believing that all is well....

slowly and steadily i picked up the pieces, learnt from my mistakes, reined my mind in.
gradually i grew out of the shell i had hidden inside, broke open barriers and as i lifted my face up to the sky and the sun's rays shone down on me...i was a new person

I cant say that i left that failure behind, but i kept it in mind, it was always my driving force...to succeed to not be who i used to be. to remain ME.

trapped

The view was obscured by bars
His little fists held on for dear life
The free bird was caged again

As he looked out, he could hear the laughter and sound of children playing
Tears streaming down his cheeks, he wondered why he was here,
Why was he trapped again?
All he wanted was to go, fly away
Away from the life he was born with

Tear-streaked, his sobs were relentless
He trudged slowly back to his iron bed,
Head bowed, feet dragging, a look of defeat
The very image of hopelessness

full circle

she was alone, side tracked...

they were at it like cats and dogs...

always shouting, crying, being stubborn

all of them.

things changed, they washed their hands off each other

she grew up, apparently the "angel"

timid, restrained, subdued...

refused to come out of her shell,

never knowing there was one!

time passed, the hatred, the anger increased.

the few moments of peace and love gave her relief.

sometimes reality was too hard to digest

so she stayed away.

somewhere inside she believed that only one was right...

time passed, she changed, became a person of her own

formed her own identity, carved her own niche

away from them, she saw them for who they were

just wounded human beings, having gotten into something vicious,

being unable to get out of it.

and all she could be was a silent spectator

accepting that it was all she could do...

watch them....tears dropping silently

onto her folded hands

in a prayer for peace, normalcy...