Games that the Gods play

The sweltering summer heat. This year has been unbelievably hot. Its really strange for Bangalore to see temperatures of 33 deg Celsius. I don’t remember a year before this that I was skeptical about stepping out during the day, because of the sun. Surya* was adamant, that he would shine down on us all through March and April. He showed no sympathy, knowing very well that we were not used to it. (Maybe Yeddy didn’t offer him any coconuts this year. Hmmmph, Yeddy and his vested interests) Either that, or I’ve had a small memory lapse, and can’t remember the way last years summer went. Maybe I didn’t step out, because I was lazy.

Then on one such hot day, Varuna* decided to shower some love on us. It looked like he missed us, because he decided to package some extra love. He sent Rudra* first, to lash on the city. Rudra went all out, struck the ground with brilliant flashes of light. Then Varuna followed, blocking the roads, washing down the city of its sins. Cleaning up, settling the dust. I was on my way to work that evening. It took me a 2 and 3/4 hours to get to work, but I looked out of the window. I watched Rudra in action, striking poses across the sky. The dark clouds, and those brilliant streaks of light, like sharp arrows shooting outwards. Awestruck as I was, I decided to crib (human nature?). I still think the journey could be shorter, but Rudra was fabulous.

Once calm was restored that night, Vayu* took over. He swept through the city, blowing a cool breeze. He was gentle. He made sure that he calmed the people down, specially after Varuna and Rudra decided to shake them up. He stayed till I got home from my graveyard shift that morning. He blew cool air, and made sure that though I was tired, I was calm.

The next morning, Rta* had decided. He decided to restore the rhythmic pattern of the Universe. The orderly way that the world regulates itself, upholding the cycle, teaching me an important lesson. Surya shone down brilliantly the next day, upon a clean Earth. Brighter, since everything got a proper washing down the previous day. He worked through the day to ensure normalcy is restored. Vayu worked all day too, to reduce the intensity of Surya. Varuna and Rudra were at peace.

Everything was orderly again. Life goes on. The circle of life that people spoke about so often (actually the Lion King mentioned it) seemed to fit its true meaning. After every gloomy day, the night settles in. Dark, and threatening. Then dawn creeps in, with the first ray, trying to ensure that everything will be normal again, as long as you’re strong. Strength that stems inside you, should weather any storm. Strength to face the world, with your head held up high.

Hold your head up high, knowing that there is a Rta. The loop will close, the ends of the circle will meet, only to start another circle again.

(* Context given below)

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I was reluctant to post this, although I wrote it on impulse. I don’t mean any harm or offence, of course. I was wondering what magnificent games the Gods would play, if they had to. I instantly remembered that this was one such game. I don’t necessarily believe in the existence of the Gods, or what kinds of Gods there are. I am all for One Religion – Humanity (spoken like in a beauty pageant, but its true). There could be many Gods, or none. Anyway, more about that on an isolated blog post. Treat this like a work of fiction.

Surya – The Sun God, shining magnificently down on the Earth

Varuna – God for the Rains, quenching the thirsty soil, and cleaning the world of apparent sins

Rudra – The God of Storms and lighening. He wields the thunder bolt, like a bow and arrow, reaching far across the skies.

Vayu – Wind, constant motion. The God who breeze through, leaving a calming effect, lest he is ever angry, where he can wreck havoc. 

Rta – God of the universal order. Sometimes described as Reet, or Reeti, which means order, and formal manner. Everything is designed to function according to Rta’s wishes. Rta prevails, no matter what goes wrong

The Insignificant Blogpost

I never get tired of writing about this city. I feel happy, and content that I’m in a slightly sluggish city, where not much moves fast. It gives me time to think, about what I like, and what I don’t. I lead an atrocious amount of time at work, both when I’m at my workplace and when I’m not. I’m always thinking about some customer, making quick notes on my “smart” phone about what I absolutely must do the next day at work. My brain is mostly in my cubicle, but then I let my mind wander. When my mind does wander, like it is right now, I think about unrelated, not-so-important, irrelevant things. Like now. I’m thinking about how important this thought process is for me.

I love random. I love the way my brain zips across many different things, remembering only the unimportant, and ignoring the most important things in life. Its freaky (and kind of geeky) that I claim I have a “Repository of Useless Information”. Here’s an excerpt of some random, unimportant things and useless memories I have which I treasure and cherish. Anything that I cherish needs to be put down on paper, and so be it! 

Twirling around, round and round A distinct memory. I’ve lived in this house in Bangalore from 1993. I remember how the house used to look, with just the ground floor, and the cemented courtyard. I remember how one day I decided to help water the plants and was given a tiny bucket of water. The bucket was tiny, but once filled was quite heavy. Something made me pick up that bucket of water, and turn around in circles. Round and round I went. The bucket up in the air feeling weightless. I remember my red frock flared up and me going round and round. Random, and still so fresh in memory. I wish I could twirl around today, and laugh out loud after I stopped, because of how weightless, light headed and crazy I felt.

Cloud Watching Summer holidays were always associated with jobless sultry days, with lots of books, tonnes of television and afternoon naps for me. One distinct evening, I went up on the terrace, to enjoy a strong breeze, and I lay down with my arms behind my head, watching the clouds zoom past. The shapes – a pig, a horse and a fluffy dog. From “Cloud watching” to “cloud computing”, I’ve come a long way. (I know, I know this is a bad joke, but I work for a cloud based company now. Get it? Get it?) 

Super-stars Living in the city does not give you the opportunity to gaze up towards the sky and see the stars shine down on you. I never understood the concept of the Shining Stars. I mean, they were just there in the sky. Occasionally, one bright one stood out a little. (that turned out to be a planet - disappointing). Then one day, I was tucked away somewhere in the Himalayas when I realized what it meant for the stars to actually shine down on you. Thousands and thousands of them studded the sky, each like a beautiful diamond (yes, the rhyme is validated now). I will not forget the way the sky looked that night. Never. Its probably a personal goal now to chase the starry-est skies that I can find. Someday. 

Rocky  Yes, my dog was named Rocky. I did not have a say in that. I was 4. If they’d asked me back then, I would have said dholu or chotu or something along those lines. Rocky worked better. I loved him. I’ve tonnes of memories of him, of course. The fondest was probably him putting his paw on my lap and looking at me with those goofy eyes. This is common, but so fresh in memory today. 

Random Scary Train I wonder sometimes if it was my first train journey, because I remember it so vividly. I remember the journey to Delhi, where I was so fascinated and thrilled with tunnels. I was really young, mostly less than 5, and I was oddly scared of the tunnels. Each time the train would pass through a tunnel, I’d open my eyes wide, probably because I didn’t want to miss anything in the passing darkness.  When the train passed by, and we had sudden light inside the train, I would see a face at the window. It was a shadow of a face. Maybe it was the light playing tricks with me, but I’m pretty sure I saw something. What is strange is that the side profile of that face looked exactly like “Suppandi”. :D (Ok, maybe I was imagining it). 

I have tonnes of other random memories, but these are the ones that stuck in my brain. I can relive each of these, just like I were right there, doing the exact same thing, right now. Although my choice of topic for this post seems rather insignificant and unimportant, that’s the whole point, isn’t it?

The book walk

I took a little walk today. More about that in a bit.

After much contemplation about the right time to go, I finally went and watched a movie in the theater. It is a little weird, but the last movie I’ve watched in a movie theater, is Delhi Belly (or Cowboys and Aliens), which was way back in July 2011. Theaters and me, haven’t been getting along so well in the past few months. When I was supposed to watch Tintin, I didn’t go for some reason. When I was supposed to watch Sherlock, I fell sick. Finally, I broke the jinx today. I went and watched The Avengers. I was awestruck! I loved the action, the graphics, the weird looking creatures from outer space, Loki (who was a little dumb), Captain America and him barking orders. Our lady, Robin Scherbatsky also had a role in the movie (they could have done without her, but she adds visual appeal). What I loved the most, was HULK. I’m in love with HULK. All he does, with a giant roar and rippling muscles is grab, snatch, squeeze, throw, slam, punch .. *POW POW* 

Anyway, a day well spent, includes a wonderful walk down a beautiful Bangalore road. Church street, which is an off shoot of the forever busy Brigade Road, is a lovely road, simply because of all the stores and pitstops that you can make. Now, don’t be fooled, thinking you can buy stunning clothes and shoes from the stores on this road. You’ll find plenty of places to eat, and a couple of stores. The stores I am talking about are talked about, in order of how I visited them.

Blossom Book House : This, is the place for all sorts of books. You’ll find new books, old books, second hand books, hand me downs, books for students, children, adults, self help. Stacks of books, all the way from the floor, up to the ceiling. Although I’ve been to this place many (many many) times, I grin each time I think about going there again. :) Its the smell of the place. If you’re an avid reader, you’ll smell a book when you read it. There’re two smells, the product of my overly observant nature – the new-book-smell and the old-book-smell. The new-book-smell is great! Gum-my (of gum), fresh paper and there is something crisp about that smell. This sounds weird, but have you observed the same? The old-book-smell works wonders too! I love the old, musty, smell of those books. Books that have been flipped through countless times, making someone happy that they’re spending some good time reading. I love Blossoms, and the various smells that comes with it. After some happy purchases, here’re pictures of what the place looks like on the inside.

     

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After Blossoms, we walked down to a place that has been there for ages, and I had no clue! Its right in front of your eyes on Church Street, and you don’t notice. Its called “Magazines” and yes, they sell magazines. Any magazine that you’ve ever heard of, thought about picking up and will probably never pick up are sold here. As you walk down the stairs into this basement store, you notice bowls of cat food in the portico. Look around, and you see a scruffy  kitten playing with a boy. Weird, you’d think, but that’s what this store is all about – Magazines and Cats! Both these live in harmony, while shoppers walk around looking for their magazines. Look down and you’ll see a tail sticking out, while a beautiful Persian cat, with bells around his neck looks up at you. I’m not so much of a magazine person, but I loved the cats they had. Well, if you need backdated magazines, or want to shower some cat-love, this is the place to be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I love Bangalore for the wonderful day, and an even better book walk I ventured into. I love Bangalore, for one other thing – as I write, it is raining, like there’s no tomorrow, and its raining cats and dogs!

Like vitalstatistix said each time – “The Sky is Falling!”

Cow-zzattt!

“love-u love-u, oh my love-u, you showed me bhav-u,
Cow-u cow-u, holy cow, i want you here now-u. God I yam dying now-u…!”

“haaruthide love birds galu, ooduthide cows-galu” (the love birds are flying and the cows are running, claims a famous Kannada actor, while crooning to his beau)

“Holy COW”

My head turns really fast when I hear the lines above. When I say fast, you must chomp chomp remember that I have a very heavy head. Those 2 horns on my head restrict me in ways you can never imagine. chomp chomp Humans have horns too, but those are rooted deep within their heads and their heads move in weirder directions than mine. Mine, just slow me down. My fast movement may seem kind of slow for you, but I do not care what you think.

I don’t care, remember? chomp chomp

Yeah, so the songs. chomp On a serious note, its an honor to be mentioned in all these wonderful hit songs. Specially the one where that thin man with big discs on his ears calls out to me. I often go and pretend to bask under the shade of the tree next to the barbers shop. He doesn’t mind me, like the vegetable vendor does. Like I’d eat those veggies. They’re too juicy and slippery for my throat. I like my hay. Yeah, so the barber has his tv on all the time. I take a peek sometimes, just to listen to the song which plays on a loop all day. “cow-u cow-u”. Wonderful music. I even moo back in response. The thin handsome man smiles back each time. chomp chomp Always at the right time. 

Talking about handsome, I know I’m stunning. chomp chomp Haven’t you see the Bull stand across the road, chomping and grunting each time he sees me? I’m pretending that I have not noticed. I’ve heard that’s a brilliant way to confuse the male brain. Males of any kind, you see. Now, how do I know I’m gorgeous? Two ways actually. My favorite “watering hole”, quite literally, is filled with water. I gaze into it all day long. chomp chomp Each time I go get a drink, I look at my long lashes, my snooty long snout. chomp chomp My beautiful nose-ring and the bell necklace around my neck. I have just one grouch. My horns. They’re not perfectly shaped. One of them turns towards the right, very slightly. I think it looks awful, but my best friend, Amba, chomp chomp says it adds character to my face. The other place I can actually see all of my body – The barbers window, chomp chomp in his mirror. That is quite horrific though. I’ve the biggest ass ever. Sob. chomp chomp. 

Amba also says I’m quite the prankster. We play a game everyday. chomp chomp Its similar to a game these young kids play – London Statue. I tell Amba to follow me down the road, 2 meters behind. I march to a comfortable place and stop. Amba stops in her tracks too. We stay stationary for a bit, and sit down if we feel like it too! Wheeee! Vehicles zip around me, dodging us both. I don’t call myself a prankster, but I sure do like adventure. 

Despite my busy schedule, I also like to nose chomp chomp around those treasure troves that the women toss across the road. Interesting things are thrown there. I like tasting a little bit of everything in that place. Wholesome Goodness!

The temple bells are ringing, and Chotu’s here already, wielding his stick. I don’t need that stick, I know the way home perfectly well. I amble alongside, chomp chomp into my cozy hut. Chotu comes with some fresh hay for me to eat. chomp chomp. 

Goodnight peeps. chomp…..zzz

3 Months of Thinking

Finally. Three months. Its been three whole months since I wrote. So much has happened, so much has changed, but I was searching for inspiration. I’ve wanted to write so bad, for the last 3 months, but never found the time. Excuses. I didn’t make the time. I love tapping away at the keyboard. I’ve developed this typewriting efficiency, where I can go tap tap tap really quickly, but I didn’t. I believed I was busy, but I do have half hour.

So, in the past 3 months (and more), I’ve wanted to write about many many things. Some drafts were  written, some scrapped. Here’s and excerpt of the thoughts that crossed my mind, and why I decided to scrap them.

1. Holy Cow! So I actually contemplated writing from the Cows head. I’ve often wondered what the cow thinks about all day long. She chews her specially made chewing gum, whisks her tail. What does she think about? Politics? The Bulls? How to lose some weight in 10 days? Should I pursue this nonsensical track? :D Should I actually write about our Holy Cow?

2. The magic of love. Stupid lame old topic. Magic, because it seems to appear and disappear as fast as it appeared for most people. I’m tired of slushy mushy posts. :| To pursue or not to pursue, that is the question.

3. Shiny Happy People. The song inspired me, so I wanted to write about some shiny happy people. No, I don’t mean Shiny Singh or Happy Singh. (I secretly love these kind of names). I was going to write a whole post about ridiculous names. Shelved.

4. Birds flying away from the nest. This was intended for those people who have decided to leave the flock and go do their own things. My motivational, sentimental post. My sentiments flow, but the post never came. Lazy much? :)

5. Part III of the only story I’ve written. There’ve been changes, to her life and his. I thought about it, but then… you know.. awkward? Not needed?

6. Uhmmm.. Uhmmm.. At one point I wanted to write about the snowflakes which were dancing outside my window in Boston. I wanted to write “right then”, when they were falling down lightly, but then I wanted to run out and stand outside more than I wanted to write. So there, I ran down and felt the snow. I could sing, “Have you ever seen the Snoooow”, but refrain, refrain.

So there, I’ve thought and thought some more.  I think I’m better at not thinking too much. Should I give any one of the above a shot? :D

Lots of Love, and Joy that I’m back,

Pzes

The year that went by

My last post for this year. 2011. Big in so many ways for me. I’ve lived, loved and been on a roller-coaster ride like never before. Many “claim” that we’ve another sad little year to live, before all becomes dust. Maybe, but the whole point of this “all important year” is going to be to live each of these 366 days (yay, leap year) like they you were actually going to run out of days to live.

Here I am, on the last day of this “fascinating” year, tapping my heart out on some unfamiliar keys. I normally type these blogs on my laptop, but not today my friend. I’m tapping away at my fabulous new iPad nicely resting on my outstretched leg, which happens to nurse a badly sprained ankle.

The year that just went by, probably the most important year of my life. January landed me in a new job, uncharted territory and bright new dreams. The biggest change so far. From a paranoid early bird who ate the worm, I became a night owl, who kept a watchful eye. Luckily, I l.o.v.e what I do now. I’m happy, charged up and raving to go! I met some wonderful people, who gradually promoted themselves into my best friends! I think “working from home” is a pain, and holidays are to be taken only when necessary. Yes, I’ve become psycho like that.

Leh happened like magic! I went on a self realisation over drive. I learned to love selflessly. I learned that I was a very little person who was up against a massive, majestic universe, and I came back determined to fight. Leh imbibed self confidence in me, making me look at myself very differently.

From the mountains to the calm of the seas. 2011, you showed me all. I love the mountains, I love the sea. I love sun, sand, waves and the drowning sun. I learned about depth, of emotion. Of fighting my feelings, and letting them go. I let people go, and let feelings get washed away.

I’ve also determined my place in people’s lives this year. My friends, whom I love, love me back with all they have. Some other friends, I’ve had to let go of, are still special to me, but I know that they’d rather be left alone, without my presence in their lives. “You know where to find me if you need me, ‘cos I’ll always be there.”

2011 also managed to be the year of hook ups, engagements, weddings and big announcements!! Some friends started dating each other, some others declared their love for the other, some “meet the parents” events! Some Friends got engaged, and I knew for once they were doing the right thing.

The year that was, happened to be a sine wave. Some extremely happy moments, to some dark rough phases. I’ve braved you 2011, and fought with you hard. I think I won!

I’ve been a good person this year too, tried very hard not to hurt anyone, made the best of each day, tried very hard to make people around me smile. I think I’ve done a decent job of it all. Phew!!

I have no resolutions for the year that we are yet to see. I’m going to live each day as it unfolds itself to me. My crazy sixth sense tells me it’s going to be BIG!! I hope it brings joy to each of you. Here’s to the year that went by, to my crazy friends and lovely family! Here’s to the Kolaveri, the madrasan, and to your new beginnings.

Oh, before I forget, lovely ad by coke this time around. Here’s wishing you some “umeed wali dhoop, sunshine wali aasha”!! Believe in a better tomorrow I say! Peace.

(I will try to figure out star wars and trek, stop sighing on posts, and write more often)

Love,
Pzes

Wishing I was a little girl, all over again.

November. Occasionally rainy. Mostly dry. Onset of winter. You can claim we don’t really have a “winter” here in Bangalore, but trust me, it gets really cold. Misty in the wee hours of the morning. My skin becomes dry, posing perfect reasons to believe that all those winter cream ads finally make sense. November, marks the end of September. I hope someone woke up Green Day on time, since they begged, pleaded, cajoled, and shook us all up. If they haven’t woken up yet, I’m sure they’re going to be in some deep slumber all this month.

I also learned this month, about this thing called the Movember. Mo(stache) November, where one spreads awareness about issues which concern Men and their health. Causes are supported, money is raised, and donated to the appropriate. Interesting. Sport a “mo” guys, but uhhh.. make sure you shave it off by December. Shave me off, when November ends. 

I’m also thinking about Thanksgiving. Well, not really Thanksgiving, but all the sales that follow. The Friday and Monday after Thanksgiving kicks off the shopping season officially. I can’t stop thinking about what to get myself. Hell, I can’t make up my mind. That new phone? My phone officially needs to behave officially. I need email on my phone. How complex has my life become! I need a phone, and I need a G.O.O.D one. Samsung S II ? Everyone is crooning about the iPhone 4S. I don’t need to talk to Siri and complicate my life some more.

This is one November, and back in the day, there was another. In school. November was special. I remember school well enough, somehow college seems to be hazy. Maybe it was because college was impersonal, if I may say. I don’t think they made you feel special enough. College was a bunch of lectures, important notes, photocopies, tests and exams. I know I’ve made my best friends there, but if they weren’t there, college would be pretty darn.. how do i explain this.. Lacuna (which means blank, btw, word for the day).

Back in School, today was s.p.e.c.i.a.l. November 14th. Children’s day. Every year, for 12 straight times, this was possibly the most fun day that existed in school. To watch students goofing around all through the year was one thing, to watch your teachers goofing around was something else. I remember standing quietly at the morning assembly, the previous day, when it was officially announced that there was something incredibly special being organized for the next day. The announcement normally made waves of excitement ripple through, you could see it in my school mates faces, if you looked around.

The next day, I’d carry lesser books. I’d make sure I carried books of the teachers who scared me, and would genuinely be pissed off (for the lack of a mild word), and the rest were kept behind. The assembly that day, was usually highly abnormal. The prefect conducting assembly, and only a bunch of teachers in sight. Where were they? I’d look around, peering into windows, if I could see anyone. After painfully standing through a plethora of news readings, thoughtful thoughts for the day, random quizzes, we’d be directed towards the auditorium.

Another agonizing wait, till the whole school was seated, they’d finally let the show begin. Starry eyed, and with awe, I’d watch my teachers put up a show. They’d sing, dance, run around, do crazy things, and set off ripples of laughter. My “dangerous” teachers were up there too, holding hands with the others, running around. They behaved exactly as we would, every single day. An hour later, we’d be proud. Proud, because the teachers we see everyday actually put up a cracker of a show. Proud, that they were my teachers! Proud about my favorite ones, surprised about the quieter lot. Makes me think about how proud they’d feel to see us on stage, each time, 40 times over, for each student in their class.

Today, I’m utterly bored on Children’s day. I’ve grown up. My life is complex now. I loved being a Child. I didn’t have to think about work, or how I’m going to save money. I’d not worry about what to wear to work, or to meet my friends over the weekend. I’d not care about what shoes I wore, or about how I’d dazzle and shine all day through. I’d not worry about how my career is shaping up, or how I’d manage my time. All that mattered, on this day, was that I was happy. My teachers allowed us to have fun, and showed us how its done! Like a rockstar!

I wish I were back in school today. I wonder what they’re doing this year. Here’re a couple of things that I remember from a few Children’s day celebrations. Add your favorite ones in the comments, this sure seems like a fun day, at last.

Mrs V missing dentures, Mrs J as a puppet, the fashion show, Mrs P and her special act (she donned our uniform once), the Physical Exercise teacher being  the center of all shows, the mimicry, the sensational stories, the dances, and the perfection. 

Here’s wishing that little boy/girl within you, a very Happy Children’s Day!

The Trust Machine.

So there’re surveys. There’re surveys of how many times you say “I love you”, or “How clean your city is” or “Diwali with crackers/just lights”. Surveys become statistics, statistics are parsed by psychologists, who make up some theory about the evolving human brain, IQ, EQ, SQ, DQ.. I think these exist. Some random people pick these stats up, and use them in those presentations they make, to a random audience, who couldn’t care less. Its easy to make pie charts of absolute rubbish. “How Powerpoint Savvy Are you?” 100%. Very cool.

Somehow, I wonder if they forgot to take a survey about the “most abused word/phrase in the world”. I’m sure you’re going to believe that it has to be I’m sorry or the famous I love you. Personally, and honestly, I’d like to believe that it has to be “Trust me”. You can plead or forgiveness, or emphasize love very easily, I’m sure. Those phrases can be used at the drop of a hat, and most people now already know that those words are hollow. Soundless. Void of Feelings. When someone says they’re sorry, we often just brush it off. I love you’s are so easy now. Tap Tap Tap on the phone, and its done. You can love a person, in different ways, so that is forgiven.

Them: Trust me, I know where the best Ice Cream is.
Me (In My head) : Why? You don’t even know the kind I like.

Them: Trust me, star wars is going to be EPIC!
Me (In my head) : Uh Huh. I don’t like the type. Help!

Them: Trust me Darling, I’ve tonnes of more experience than you.
Me (In my head): That’s different! This situation is so unlike any that you’ve ever had! How do I take your word for it?!

Trust me, with your eyes locked onto another persons. A killer expression. How does one break away from the gaze? How do you tell the person you don’t trust him/her? So, you do. You trust the person so much, that you forget to think, that they may not have meant it in the first place. For me, someone asking me to put some trust on them is going to take a dollop of commitment. The phrase is more than just some random honey coated way of speaking. Its more than just asking for something, that I can lend. Sometimes you don’t just lend, you give away a part of you, only based on trust. Sometimes you trust the person so much that you hand over the reins, and ride on trust. #Epic #Crash #and #Burn
#Never #Again

If anyone, I mean ANYONE, ever does this to me, here’s what to expect. So thank you, you can now leave and prove yourself first.

Them: Trust me, I know what I’m doing. I’ll be there to watch your back, I’ll be there for you.
Me (In my head) : Yes! You’ll forget what you’re saying in exactly 230729 seconds.
Me (On my face) : Left eye becomes small, Right eyebrow goes sky high. The Great Indian Shak ki Nazar.

For your eyes only (Part II)

You might need some context here. If you haven’t already, then go read the first part to “For your eyes only”. Click HERE to read. 

September 2011. Already. Saturday Morning. She ruffled the newspaper into place, cursing under her breath. The newspaper boy never seemed to deliver the newspaper the way she liked it. Neat, folded. He normally folded it three times over, so he could toss it along the passage, and land it on her doormat. “Lazy #(&$, couldn’t he walk 5 meters down the hallway to drop it on my mat instead”. The newspaper. Her favorite part of the day, when she’s curl into a ball and read through carefully. She liked distracting herself.

The scams. The saga. The crazy people she’d read about. Her favorite section though, was the local news section. The whole section where she could read about what was going on in her city. The new play that was being enacted that weekend. The art exhibition where she could go, admire, and probably pick up something nice to adorn her walls. Her Walls. The walls she’d built around her, after she’d parted ways with S. The apartment she’d rented, was brand new. She knew exactly what kind of place she’d wanted.

“A huge balcony. French windows maybe. Glass partitions to the balcony could be a plus. An additional balcony would be nice. Some place to put the pots and plants, with exactly 3-4 hours of direct sunlight. A window sill in the kitchen was a must. Many bare white walls. Lots of room to hang paintings.” The real estate agent, puzzled as he was, showed her one flat after another. He ran out of energy, trying to convince this “crazy lady” that the best apartments were the ones with done up kitchens, compact storing places, and extra parking lots. She’d insist on looking for these impractical artistic things. The agent was soon running out of ideas, till he came across this flat. Thankfully for him, she’d loved it. The walls were blue and yellow, but she’d been convinced. The best buy!

She insisted on painting the walls. White. A clean slate where she could play around with her colors. She’d already pictured the sizes of the paintings she’d buy. So visits to any art exhibition was pretty much a norm every weekend. She could spend her evening being pretentious and picking out the brightest, random piece of art she liked. She’d narrowed down on which show she’d go to and felt better about it. She looked at her wall. She’d started hanging those paintings from left to right. “Half done. I’m spending a fortune on this.” She smiled. Shaking the thought off her head.

If a stranger had walked into the room, he’d have noticed a pattern in her choice. March, when she’d moved in first, she had depressing dark pieces put up. Black, harsh. Agonizing. As one looked closely, the paintings changed to those depicting anger. Then she had a couple of very drab, disinterested pieces. The pattern had now shifted. She was buying paintings which made her happy now. There was one, in particular that would catch a strangers eye. Just a simple rectangular canvas depicting an open meadow, and a girl running wild through the tall grass. The only expression painted on the girls face was a smile. The rush of wind through her hair, the speed, was symbolic. Free Spirit, was what she said the painting was called.

March to September. Six months, and she’d learnt how to vent. She believed that writing what she thought about would set her free. Six months, and she’d written countless letters to S. He would know exactly what she was thinking. Today she had that urge to write to him again. He was important. Her friends, had given up. “She’ll need to do things her own way”, they’d decided. She dashed to her little table, overlooking a french window. She opened up the window, sat down, pulled out her pot of ink.

S,

September’s here. September, where we’d planned to go on an official holiday. I’m still going, by the way. September seems a little steep, but I’ve everything planned out for October. My bunch of three, and I are heading out on an expedition. We’re headed to Bali! Yes, we’re inspired by Eat, Pray and Love. Pretentious shit! As always. They’ve stuck by my side, you know. As always. Nothing’s changed. 

I bought a new painting again last weekend. I’ve spent a bomb on these pieces. I know its crazy, and its something I’d have never thought about splurging on. I’ve kind of realized that they soothe me. The cruder, the better. Strange. I bought a painting of a girl running wild through a meadow. She’s smiling, enjoying the wind, and the speed. She’s running along a slow meandering river. I have the broadest smile when I look at it. Happy thoughts fill my head. 

I wonder often about how different things are now. I suddenly stepped out of my comfort zone. It was hard, and crazy. I can’t repeat how hard those days were. I wonder what I’d have been doing today, if I were still making life difficult for you. :) 

I wonder about how you’re doing. I wonder if you wonder too. I’ve only happy memories of us. Its like this selective memory option which I’ve chosen. I wonder if you think about how life would be different. I hope things are better now. I have no real way of finding out, but that’s a path I won’t tread.

Here’s an amazing excerpt from a poem by Keats:

When by my solitary hearth I sit, And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom;

When no fair dreams before my “mind’s eye” flit, And the bare heath of life presents no bloom;

Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head!

Here’s To Hope, S. To you, and to me. 

Love. 

She looked at that envelope, where she’d written out his postal address, and affixed a stamp on it. She neatly folded the letter, and stuffed it into the envelope carefully. She’d written, For your eyes only at the back. She dropped it on the table, picked it up again, ran her fingers along the edges, thinking. She made up her mind, soon after. She unlocked a drawer alongside her table. She put the envelope where it belonged. Neatly. There it lay, among many others addressed to S. This one at the top of the heap. She sighed, closed this drawer and locked it up.

“The Piercing”

See, this post requires a heavy title. Its a rather serious thing to discuss. Some love it, some.. not so much. Some think its an essential part of their being, some don’t care about its existence. For some, its art and for some others, its just something they’d like to get rid of. If you haven’t guessed already, “duh!” to you, and I’m talking about piercings that people sport. I’m mostly referring to the ones people get on their ears, any other thoughts, can stay in your own heads. Please.

So, we Indians, seem to take great pride in our ears. Here, little girls and boys alike, get their ears pierced when they’re around 1 year old. Boys, not so much, but I’ve seen it. Years later, when they’re grown up men, they’re often asked by other “men”

Man: Dude, pierced your ears sometime, bro?

Bro: Yeah, bro. Long time ago. (Time of piercing, not mentioned, of course!)

Man: Cool bugga’! Its shut now bro. Got bored, eh?

Bro: Yeah man! I got bored. I’m thinking about getting one on my chin. Or eyebrow.. what say? Want to get one with me? (Men, can be so weird, sometimes).

Man: Yeah! Lets do it!

Many “That’s what she said” moments later, Man and Bro get those elusive piercings. Tattoo’s follow, and thus their “friendship” evolves into a tale, of two “bros”. They lived happily ever after.

See how essential they are? Besides, these guys bonded over it. *Sniff* *sob*

Now the elusive ear piercing probably comes from the Lords. DD 1 probably had a lot to do with as well. Lord Ram sported earrings, all through the series.

So did Ramanand Sagar’s Shree Krishna.

Uhmm, you might want to look at this Vikram Aur Betaal pic as well.

Then came Cable TV and with it the saga of Hindi Soaps. Tulsi’s earrings had to be grander than the other woman! The vamps were recognized, because they wore HUGE earrings. Really. They had to look like they were dripping in diamonds to look evil. (I won’t be evil, I promise. Please shower diamonds on me, somebody).

Back to the whole talk about me, which is the point of this blog (mostly), I got my ears pierced when I was tiny and don’t remember anything about. Then they magically closed, when I was around 5 years old. So off I was sent to Mysore, to get them pierced again. Double Childhood Horror! What I’ve failed to figure out, till today is – Why Mysore? Why not a doctor? Why that man?

So I still remember that thin-nish, tall-ish man with the salt and pepper hair, that white lungi and half sleeved white shirt who put me on a chair and tried to prick a hole through my ear. I screamed! Yelled! Kicked! Howled! All in all, I put in a very strong kick or 2. The man managed. Somehow. I’ve 2 perfectly pierced ears now. God Bless that patient man. Doesn’t discount the fact that I’m scarred for life with this memory.

Now for the Million dollar question. I want to get my ear pierced again. Right on top of my ear, in the cartilage portion. Can I do it, without kicking up a fit? Sigh.