Days going by

2012-01-06T20:25:00.001+01:00

And if you forgive one, you have to forgive them all. Because each time it hurt you just the same. But begin with forgiving yourself.

Happy 2012

2012-01-02T17:28:00.001+01:00

2011-12-30T00:58:00.000+01:00

Forgive and forget. Forgive and forget. Forgive and forget. On and on in a chant.
Until when? The next time again?
This is suicide.
This is murder.

2011-12-27T01:43:00.000+01:00

I am just putting this fact out there - I hate cooking. I can and will survive on fruits and milk and cereal and salads for as long as it takes. Just so that you know. ;)

2011-12-10T20:36:00.000+01:00

Time it was, and what a time it was, it was;
A time of innocence,
A time of confidences;
Long ago it must be.
I have a photograph;
Preserve your memories.
They're all that's left you.

2011-11-22T11:22:00.001+01:00

All is well except for one undeniable fact - I am lonely. Terribly so. Since ages now.

2011-11-07T00:47:00.000+01:00

And as we danced the makeshift salsa, clumsy me hanging on to your arm just enjoying being guided along, the music loud, the dance floor crowded, too crowded for comfort, our two friends watching us standing in a corner, I suddenly remembered that I have only ever danced with my men before. And you, you're not my man. You're married. Happily so.
But tell me, was there something else in the air? So long as we were dancing and afterwards when the friends left, and you and I settled down to the last glass of liquor, beer for you and Brouilly red wine for me?

I am probably getting too old. Or maybe it's that my experiences in the matter have pushed me so much over the hill that you and your ways are all beyond my slowing mind.

2011-11-01T01:30:00.000+01:00

A white wine bottle, Leonard Cohen, plenty of Philip Morris (the first time that I encountered these cigarettes) waves of nostaligia, and I'm good for the night. Drunkenness after a long, long time.

Where art thou Love?

2011-10-31T14:48:00.000+01:00

I used to be alive once. Alive with all my senses at their keenest. My emotions at my fingertips. My life brimming over with all these beautiful sensations whether happy or sad , every pinprick and naturally every moment under the sun, magnified a thousandfold till I almost felt overwhelmed by the passion I had for the life I was living.

That was when love was still with me.

And now that love's gone, I am a mere shadow of the person I used to be. Just going through the motions each day fooling you and everyone else so that you don't feel my death. I wonder how long you'll take to realize one day that what you see in front of you is a mere ghost.

Leonard Cohen - Love itself

2011-10-24T18:38:00.001+02:00

What should I say about the work I am supposed to be doing in Paris apart from the fact that I love it best when all my office mates are gone and I have the rather large office to myself late in the evening? And then there's the black coffee at Le weekend cafe where I go almost everyday for my coffee fix. Yeah everything's fine here except that I am dying to really talk to somebody. Anybody. That I find it hard to make friends here, even after 3 whole weeks. That the work seems very tough, the notes given to me by my boss incomprehensible especially because I can't make out his handwriting. Also I seem to have forgotten any physics that I had learnt during the 9 month gap that I spent at home. That I find it so strange when people in my building say Bonjour but not a word more than that when they see me. Shit, I am in a new country for God's sake and this is my first time ever out of India for so long. This is not some random conference I'm attending here. It's supposed to be life for the next two years at least. Ahhh, where do I begin?

Damn I am feeling insecure and funny. I need friends to be able to get this load off my chest. Pronto.

The odd weather that is Parisien weather

2011-10-18T22:01:00.000+02:00

The weekend was so bright and sunny that I got by with just a light jacket and nothing else, even telling myself that I like the nip in the air. But it's been cold, blustery and rainy here since yesterday with nary a sighting of the sun. I'm smoking quite a lot just to feel a bit of warmth. And I daresay I'll have to start drinking seriously too. Not just drinking, cooking in the mealy old common kitchen on the 6th floor of Maison de l'Inde (India House) where I stay as well. Because come winter, what on earth will I do without hot food? Till now I've been making do with lunch with the lab colleagues at the institute canteen where the food is not too great but then it's hot at least. Dinner is purely fruits, milk, the occasional cold cut of turkey or chicken, and yoghurt. If I'm feeling especially rich, then packaged salad from the supermarket nearby. Hell, I tell myself, I survived on just this while in Bangalore. Why can't I do the same here in Paris?

And don't even get me started on cooking. I HATE it with a passion. I have neither the temperament nor the patience for it. Maybe I could still make an effort if there was someone else sharing the kitchen space and there was the occasional banter to keep me going. But strangely enough, even the Indians at the India House don't speak a word.

That apart, the romantic scene has picked up suddenly, although I am now so far gone over the hill, that love, romance, marriage etc etc none of them big words make any sense to me. So between the sex (I can't even say if it was good or bad. It was just okay) , kisses, the public displays of affection, a beautiful red rose for my room, the free rides around town, the wine and coffees, free grocery etc etc, methinks the French men are quite romantic. I'm not used to being treated like someone special by the men I've had. But strangely enough all these friends are working class people. One among them is a Masters dropout while another was getting trained to be a doctor. A common factor has been that they can speak a bit of English. In fact the Masters dropout guy speaks Spanish, Italian, French, Arabic and halting English. Wow! Enough to floor me I say. :)
Anyway will write more about Parisien/nes that I've happened to notice in these first two weeks and post some photos as well. Swalpa wait mari.

The first week in Paris

2011-10-09T15:50:00.000+02:00

So I complete my first week here in Paris. It has been a pretty nondescript week to be honest. I've been working through Monday to Friday and made almost no progress. :( As far as making friends go, it's been a difficult. The language barrier is pretty daunting. And the India House at Cite Universitaire where I'm staying is filled with Indians who don't speak. Have so far made friends with a taxi driver, a pharmacist and a store keeper. All of them French. The French intellectuals if there are any, are mostly not friendly. At the Institute where I'm working the socialization is limited to lunch time and even then it's mostly done in French. I can follow French if spoken slowly and no tough words are used. So you can imagine my predicament when a group of 5 or 6 French men gather around and talk. :(And it's already quite cold here although I'm not being bugged by it yet. I would have liked the cold better if it were sunny as well. But no, it's cloudy and rainy over here. Have finally managed to unpack my suitcases today. The room looks a bit more organized. To top it all, I didn't bring too many books with me when I came because the luggage was already over the permitted limit. So now I've landed with only two English books at my disposal. God only knows how I'll survive here for two years.

If any of you know somebody in Paris who speaks English and is friendly, please leave a comment. I would love to meet up with them.

All the baggage that we carry

2011-09-12T22:43:00.001+02:00

You were brought up to think that it's not manly to cry. And I was brought up to think that it's not feminine to spread my legs.

Thom Yorke - Eraser

2011-09-10T22:11:00.001+02:00

It feels strange to find myself out of the institute, finally walking out with the PhD I so wanted. Everything and everyone was in place. Save for one. And time goes by.
Very soon, I'll find myself in the wild, wild west so to speak; Paris, the city of my dreams, the one I have been so enamoured by. Have very mixed feelings about this last one year though. On the one hand, I got to spend a whole lot of time with my family after 8 long years, met friends, many of them from school, started learning a language even though I've still got loads left to learn; and on the other hand, had to deal with shrinks, medicines that left me with all kinds of crazy problems, withdrawal symptoms, pseudo Parkinsonian symptoms, et al. concerned parents, a boyfriend who asked me to disappear on him, burgeoning body weight because of the medicines yet again, etc etc. And I'll still get to spend the last 3 months of the year in Paris.
I wonder how many such years of waiting are ahead of me; waiting to find out my path in life. All the 31 years have done nothing to enlighten me. I'm still in as much darkness as I was when 16. Maybe that's why I don't seem to grow up. The maturity that I should have attained by now, seems like nothing but cynicism to me. And God knows I'm in no hurry to acquire that cynicism.

Signing off. Gotta get back to these two songs -
Kailash Kher - Surili Ankhiyon Waale
Nikhil D'Souza, Amit Trivedi - Shaam

The song remains the same

2011-08-27T09:20:00.007+02:00

And I still have the song you played for me that morning. I still play it late at night, often before going to sleep. I still hum it as I go about my day.

And I still want you. Why? Because classics are forever. And that's what we were, together, the two of us - a classic.

Mark Knopfler - Ragpicker's Dream

The bitter taste of failure

2011-08-13T15:42:00.002+02:00

It has been almost a year since I first had a psychotic attack. My parents instead of vouching for my sanity, were swayed by the opinions of the people at IISc, and decided that I needed hospitalization at a mental hospital. The support that they declined to give me, has ended up affecting my life so deeply that right now, I am typing fully conscious of the fact that the Rakhi I used to be, physically and mentally is dead. All the possibilities that lay in front of her in 2010 at the time of her birthday, are gone. I live a pseudo life now, mechanical and wasteful. And I daresay that the rest of my life will be the same. My fault? I failed to handle stresses that had built up in both my personal and professional lives. Never imagined that a single, simple failure would result in such disastrous consequences. And now what? Nothing..... A deep void of a life.... And that is how I will live till some day I find strength in me to get out of this neverending funk.

2011-08-02T18:12:00.001+02:00

They say long distance love is difficult to maintain in the long run. But what about the love that is, precisely because distance allows us both to hide? Today, tomorrow and always maybe.

Update: No room for maybe anymore. Today, tomorrow and always. I jumped and look at me, I'm flying. Woo hoo!

2011-07-19T21:24:00.000+02:00

There's no good, no bad, no black, no white - just different. That's the only adjective that stands true through all ups and downs. Here's to our glorious differences!

Yayyyyyyyyyyy

2011-06-29T03:01:00.000+02:00

I am back. The hiatus is over and now regular blogging will commence on this blog. The story of getting back is a long and complicated one that will hardly interest you but I can say for sure that the rest was needed. And now I am back in shape. Ok not physically back in shape but even that's a question of time.
So congratulate me folks for being able to make it through.

2011-01-02T10:12:00.000+01:00

Hey there folks!

This is going to be the final post on Days going by. I am moving to Days going by - Part deux at
http://squareoneandthereon.blogspot.com/
I hope all readers of Days going by will make the transit to Days going by - Part deux without any trouble now.

Best,

Rakhi.

2010-12-12T11:44:00.001+01:00

Unlike what you all think, Nature is not governed by the normal distribution. Normal distribution is a theoretical invention, but Nature is chaotic. It will seem completely inexplicable at first, but you've to be smart enough to find the underlying pattern. If you're not smart, then of course you'll fight to somehow fit Nature to your normal distribution in order to understand it. But know this for sure, the fault lies not in your inability to understand the problem, but in your inferiority complex *(Superiority complex doesn't exist. It's just a decoy for hidden insecurities.) which you refuse to face. Instead you use force on Nature but Nature is indefatigable.

People, the real Mccoy is in nonlinear thinking. Linear thinking is for the masses. Creativity arises somewhere else. And it's not necessary that every person will be creative. The audience to Mozart, or Van Gogh, also has a role to play. Linear thought process is what provides the audience.The artist's inspiration is linked to the audience's appreciation too. An informed audience is always a treat to perform for.

So just let the performer do his job. Stop trying to make him the audience.

2010-12-07T17:04:00.005+01:00

I am holding my breath, the excitement sometimes too much of a strain on the nerves. The thesis has been written, and the corrections have come in. As I slowly incorporate the changes and prepare for my pre-PhD seminar next monday, I am visited by this nerve-singing anticipation of seeing you.

It has been more than a year since I have last shared space with you; since I bade you goodbye at the airport. You know at every goodbye, I try to convince myself that it's the last one. My head tries its best to soothe the aching heart, whispering wise words of practicality, but the heart is not one to be consoled. The proof is in the emotion that lies harboured inside, perhaps, the remotest corners of my soul, somewhere even I can't reach. And the love comes flooding back unexpectedly at moments such as this one. I am forced to acknowledge yet again, that it's all alive, unblemished, untouched by the clammy hands of the bitch that is life. Yes, all the colours still persist, and I dream on, live on in hope that one day, we'll be together. Even I myself do not understand this hope of mine. Where does it spring from? Is it fate then?

Maybe I have been too hasty in declaring my atheism. Maybe it's agnosticism that I am hardwired to believe in. Whatever it is, come back fast. The impatient me can hardly wait.

Hey maestro give me expresso yeah expresso love it is

2010-11-27T20:51:00.002+01:00

Had gone out to watch yet another movie tonight - The Social Network, with a good friend. It was such a peaceful evening. Just the two of us on his bike, (he drives good and fast, just as I like it) a rather crowded cinema theatre, where they confiscated my lighter at the gate :-/, tubs of salted popcorn and diet coke, and the two of us high-fiving at the end, saying 'Shucks, life sucks sometimes, whether it be for billionaires, or penniless graduate students.' Then we rode back through empty streets in complete silence, shared a coffee, and he went back to his assignment, I, to my thesis.
I am left mulling over the perfect time we had. I'm probably a better friend than a lover. How many of you women can say the same?
It has been a good day. Had gone out in the afternoon to a coffee shop with my uncle who's spending two weeks in Bangalore with me, and he bought me noise-isolation Sony earphones for the new IPod. :) Somehow the free earphones that Apple provides, don't fit into my ears. So Sony it is for me.
Got a really long sms from another friend, which made me smile too. He's afraid of getting in touch with me because I'm under deadlines. Considerate of him, because who's bothered about someone else's deadlines these days? It's true what I said to my Uncle the other day - I have made good friends in this place. That's probably been the best part of the 8 long years I have spent here.

So now the question - how much longer do I hold out from joining Facebook? Does it make me a cooler girl for not being on any social network? I'm available on mail of course. But the email id isn't given out easily....
Besides, I have always maintained that real friends aren't made through networking. There's an art to it. Guess I've been an artist when it comes to friendship. So here's an espresso toast being raised to the various artists in me and you!

Losing is becoming a habit

2010-11-20T19:17:00.000+01:00

In this last month I have lost a bunch of keys that included the key to the lock in my hostel and also the departmental office, an umbrella, and the most recent loss - that of the 4th mp3 player in the form of an IPod (the third) that I had gifted myself about 6 months ago. I know, losing is not only becoming a habit but that I probably should get myself checked for Alzheimer's Disease now.

The latest loss is bizarre. I had been out power walking at the athletics track followed by 15minutes of crunches, sit-ups and lunges. After finishing my one hour routine, I checked the calories burned on the fitness meter that the new generation IPods are equipped with. Thereafter, I lost track of my favourite electronic gadget, (the IPod) as I got busy discussing with Dad, how wonderful my walking speed is, because I'd just covered 12 rounds of an approximately 400 metres long track in 45 minutes. Busy gloating, as my fitness enthusiast Dad congratulated me on my fitness level, I forgot that the IPod had been left somewhere on the steps of the gallery surrounding the track. We walked away, and I didn't discover the loss until today, when I was groping around in my bag for the familiar rectangular shaped player, just before going out of my office for a walk to the cafeteria on campus, to meet Dad. Being an otherwise organized person, the minute I don't find any of my belongings in its usual place, I interpret it as the signal of a loss. Usually I am right too. This time too, I was spot on in detecting not only the loss but also the manner in which the damned thing happened.

I got quite depressed today but then Dad being the sweetheart that he is, has decided to buy me a new one tomorrow. We are otherwise going out to watch the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and the multiplex being located in a mall with a huge electronics store, it'd be easy to buy an IPod right there. From depression, I am now getting into a philosophical mood about how everything comes into my life for a passing period of time, only to leave and make its absence felt acutely when it's needed the most. Yes, including love.

2010-11-13T12:20:00.002+01:00

My search is one for profundity in the mundane, for beauty in ugliness, for order in disorder - in professional life as well as personal. I have often gone about this search, blinders on and with such single-minded devotion that in the process, I have lost touch with reality completely, seeing links where there are none, coming up with nonsensical correlations that made life difficult to deal with.
I need to just relax. Nothing and noone is going anywhere. Life is one long race and those who really matter, remain a part of it come what may. I need to learn how to handle the stress of the fast and furious life I lead.

2010-11-05T03:43:00.001+01:00

Had a conversation last night that triggered off a few links in my mind ONCE AGAIN. Hadn't seen this bit coming. Suddenly I am convinced that there's something contrived going on in my messed-up life. Too many coincidences aren't supposed to happen in a random event - which is what I essentially believe life to be. Maybe I am wrong in my interpretation. Agnostic - that's how I have always defined myself to be.
Or maybe the case is that I influence my surroundings in such a way that a pattern forms on its own. A pattern out of a random event - chaos - yeah, that's what I told the friend my life is like. And chaos is not random disorder. At first glance, yes, it'll seem to be random. But there's a distinct probability distribution associated with it, that gives out unmistakable signatures, which are most definitely not Gaussian, or in other words, completely random.

I can see a link to a disorder in myself as well. I wonder why....I wonder what it means. Whatever it is, I'll see it to the end. Just need to learn how to manage my time better. Regular routine days and also life as a whole perhaps. Hmmmmmm....................
Sorry folks, this post will seem to be largely nonsensical to most of you. But I needed to get it out. Somewhere, somehow without it resulting in third party intervention. Thanks all of you and keep reading. :)

2010-11-03T00:35:00.002+01:00

Why the fuck do I need to live in self-denial to this extent? If I love somebody and haven't seen that person for more than a year, I am supposed to miss them, both emotionally and physically. Add to that an impending move to a different continent, with professional targets to meet in the coming 2 years, which automatically reduces the probability of even being in the same room for a substantial time to come and the picture looks pretty bleak, right?

It is abso-fucking-lutely natural that I'll need to be talking to that man very frequently, that I'll NOT swallow my pain and demand that I get to see him before I leave the country or else that we make concrete plans to be together through conferences and such like very soon. I mean to say that if a relationship is what I am looking for, then, if not now when exactly will I feel the pillar of strength the man is supposed to be for me? Shit, I'll be in a new country completely alone, with noone to look out for me. We're not talking about trips out of India here. It's a move, involving cutting off roots that tie me to Bangalore, to my life here, no matter how sad and un-happening it might be, and trying to grow roots in a new place. I know that people survive perfectly fine even alone, but truthfully speaking, they are mentally prepared for it. It's infinitely easier to adjust when you know what the deal is.
The writing's on the wall now. We need to get back to square one, folks. Wish me luck. I can do with every single good wish you send my way.

2010-10-19T22:27:00.001+02:00

I have no time to even breathe. There are 2 more weeks left till I have to submit my thesis to the guide - everything that I have done since 2004, all together, in the right format, with the right presentation. The latter seems to have become a bone of contention between the guide and me. It seems that I tend to write concise reports with only the bare minimum being mentioned. According to the guide, often the explanations are not detailed enough to even make it comprehensible to a reader who is unfamiliar with the work. So of course, he's asking me to make the thesis longer, with more plots to make it all easily discernible for the referees who will go through it.
And all of this, people, is making life HELL for me. Wish me luck with this blasted thing. I hate *presenting* work that I have done. I'll take up code writing any and evey day over the former.

2010-10-14T01:11:00.000+02:00

All the melodrama seems to have seeped out. I wonder whether that bodes well for the times ahead.

2010-10-09T18:53:00.000+02:00

A cup of cappuccino with double espresso shots followed by a long, leisurely smoke while being chatted up by a garrulous autorickshaw driver, whose only agenda is to charge fifteen rupees more than what the policeman at the prepaid auto stand has written on the bill he handed to you, can work wonders when you have been literally sleepwalking through a day, bored and listless, looking for some kind of pick-me-up. Add to that a nip in the air, and a trip to Crossword to buy gifts for a couple of friends - your day seems almost too good to be true.

*Sigh* I know I need some real excitement in my life. Only trouble with that at the moment seems to be the workload on my shoulders, which, sadly speaking, will continue straight through the coming two months.

So you think you are an extremist huh?

2010-10-08T00:48:00.003+02:00

A deep-rooted fear of change, a fear of the unknown or of the different, a fear of losing control, a painful status quo that one feels compelled to maintain no matter what the cost may be, because at least one is sure of oneself over there, - are often exactly the factors that give rise to extremism and intolerance of the many kinds that we are familiar with. It always starts with something small and seemingly inconsequential.

I wonder why we are all so obsessed with being in control. Why is it so difficult for some of us to embrace the new that we come across in our lives? I admit that it can be unnerving initially, but then new is also what keeps us younger in mind and in body too.

So as went that ad for Tata Docomo, do the new people. Eradicate all phobias from yourself and help others do the same through education in some form or the other. Soon we'll see a more liberated AND a truly liberal us in the mirror.

2010-09-30T23:22:00.002+02:00

The holiday is over and I've been back on campus for a little more than a week now. A trip home is so very like the proverbial ice cream - too much of the good thing is bad for you. So I have to ensure that the length of the holiday is not inadequate, nor stretched unnecessarily, but is just right. After a lot of trial and error, I am now of the opinion that ten days constitute the optimum. So ten days of doing nothing but eating, sleeping and reading R. K. Narayanan, together with being driven around almost every evening to wherever I fancied going, endless cups of tea or coffee and a two-day trip to Shantiniketan to top it off. All the food that Ma cooked, has ensured that I look just a tiny bit more rounded than how I was before I left for home. Not good news that. I need to start a new regimen at the gym again.

Anyway I am now slowly getting into the thick of things. There are many deadlines on my neck, especially one of end October that I absolutely need to keep. And just in time for the heavier workload comes my sudden Rip Van Winkle-esque sleeping. It may be the pleasant weather here or perhaps that the internal clock, now aware of the deadline, wants to destress me. But whatever it is, I am sleeping more than ever. And having discovered ginger cookies back at home, I am going to great lengths to find the same over here; ginger biscuits - my latest addiction.

What have you all been up to?

A basic need

2010-09-23T19:07:00.001+02:00

“We need a witness to our lives. There's a billion people on the planet... I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you're promising to care about everything. The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things... all of it, all of the time, every day. You're saying 'Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go un-witnessed because I will be your witness'.”
"
Susan Sarandon hit the nail right on the head with this in the movie 'Shall we dance?'

We all need at least one person among the entire human population to attach importance to our existence as we know it. It need not necessarily be the one you marry though. I feel that it's the most basic tenet to any relationship, whether it be with a spouse, a sibling, a parent, a friend or even a superior at work.
We need an audience to our dance.
Otherwise it all starts to seem meaningless.

A few quotes

2010-09-16T07:55:00.006+02:00

I am so glad that we subscribe to The Telegraph and not to The Times of India at home. Came across a quote by W. B. Yeats from Among school children at the editorial page two or three days back -

"O body swayed to music,
O brightening glance,
How can we know the dancer
From the dance?"

And R. K. Narayanan writes so profoundly, yet in such a matter-of-fact, even jocular, manner that it never fails to make an impression on me. I'll present you with a few lines quoted from Mr. Sampath. If you haven't read the book, or any of R. K. Narayanan, please don't waste your time hanging around over here. Get hold of one of his books now.

"It struck him as an odd mixture of the sublime and the ridiculous. There is a curse hanging over an editorial table, vitiating everything a man wishes to say. I can't say ' I want a cup of coffee without appearing to be a slightly pompous donkey. ' he told himself. 'I wish I could write all that stuff here.' he reflected, lying on his mat at home."

How ridiculously apt is the above for a blogger who writes on life as she observes it?

"They walked back in silence. At Market Square, Srinivas realized that they must part. He wanted to ask where Sampath's family was, what he had done with them, what he was going to do with himself, and so on. But he checked himself. It seemed to him a great, unnecessary strain, sifting grain from chaff in all that he might say. He might probably have his family about him. He might have abandoned them; he might, after all, still have Shanti with him and be planning further adventures, or he might disappear or still dangle a new carrot for Somu and Co. to pursue. But whatever it was, he felt that he was once again in danger of getting involved with him if he asked him too many questions. He saw Sampath hesitating in the square. Bare humanity made him say 'Will you come home with me and dine?'
'Thanks. I'm going to the railway station. I'll manage there.' Srinivas forebore to ask 'Why railway station?' He told himself 'He may meet someone, or go away somewhere or have a dozen other reasons, but I've nothing to do with any of them.' So he merely said 'All right then. Goodbye.' And passed on resolutely. While turning down Anderson Lane he looked back for a second and saw far off the glow of a cigarette end in the square where he had left Sampath; it was like a ruby set in the night. He raised his hand, flourished a final farewell, and set his face homeward."

Silence really is golden most of the time. So are posts that had been published once, but are now in the drafts section. Because even the cat with nine lives was killed by curiousity.

A few pointers on life

2010-09-05T22:03:00.008+02:00

You need black and white to be merged together to be able to recognize the grays. Every gray eliminated whether it be in ourselves or in others, is a job well-done.

There is no need for unnecessary clutter in life. Although clutter may accumulate occasionally, shit has to be thrown out when you come across it. The stink is unmistakable. Keep ONLY what you need. Rest of the stuff only comes and goes as change is ever persistent. But some things NEVER change because they make for life.

Natural survival instinct is unbeatable. There is NO higher weapon to counter shit. And that survival instinct should include not only animal but also finer human instincts. Because hey, you never know what you'll encounter. Right ladies and ledas?

One experience of a kind should be enough to learn. Only fools need multiple experiences to learn their lesson although sometimes when there are chronic diseases you may need multiple antibiotic courses. You may also be forgiven that obvious shortcoming if your faults are not basic ones. Because remember the basics are the toughest building block. Rest can be changed, basics almost impossible. Simple probability theory, right?

Even THINKING of harming a real thing, a natural desire, shows a failing of sorts. A heavy price may often have to be paid if you do so.

Let natural desires come naturally. Don't deny them. Similarly let others work on the same principle. You will have lasting peace then.

Boundaries can be crossed only for someone you love very deeply. For others who are close to you, you just lift the condition of invisibility. Once the bounds are declared then there's no more conflict.

Black, black, black BUT NO GRAY

2010-09-02T10:40:00.003+02:00

Simplicity and innocence are worth their weight in diamonds, maybe even more than diamonds. When you encroach upon either of them, be ready to pay a very heavy price. The mistake you make is discounting for the fact that even a tiny ant's life is valuable to someone - the ant itself. Survival instinct is a power that you CANNOT override. Because survival instinct, unlike your 'goals' or 'life paths' is nothing artifical or contrived.

Painted darker than black

2010-09-02T09:22:00.005+02:00

Rape doesn't necessarily have to be of the body. It can be of your trust, of your peace of mind or of your sense of self. There are predators who will use their knowledge of your weakness to hit you exactly where it hurts the most. Any situation where you feel an erosion of either one of the above three, you must protest.

Even a tiny ounce of guilt, contrived or real, is a sure sign of an intended, preplanned violation. On the other hand, some perpetrators might just be unaware of the havoc they are wreaking on you. Possibly because they have never been at the receiving end in such situations themselves. Their lack of innocence, however, is NOT your concern. I believe in the simple principle that at every step in life, I can make a choice towards real growth. Which one is real? Usually the one that's more difficult.
It's not my problem what choice someone else makes, but then, I demand that I be granted my existence. Do NOT violate my space or my life just because you had the good fortune to share a cup of coffee, a drink or a joint with me. Or even the loo in the hostel complex with me. It's YOUR shit, clean it up. And you are NOT supposed to pee in the bathing cubicle. Shit, everywhere you turn there are these extremely inconsiderate people fuelled by only their own interests, even if it is a misplaced sense of being your benefactor or counsellor.

Assholes and bitches, get the FUCK out of my life.

2010-08-27T23:32:00.002+02:00

If I say that I need people around me to be just as quicksilver as I am in their thinking, or else I get bored, would you be offended? Boredom, in my dictionary, is as good as death. Philandering or back-stabbing may still be forgiven, but boredom? Nahinnnnnnnn!!!!
I like proactive people who can bend circumstances to suit their personalities, rather than the other way round. I like that energy, that heady high of knowing that you can straddle both worlds with equal ease, given some down time to recuperate in between. I like being cynical enough to get the fine print in the letter you'll hand me, but also innocent enough to pay 1% more attention to the bold print above the footnote. But pay attention to the grammar please. Bold or fine, if your language itself is screwed up then I won't read the letter. And never, ever use smsese even in sms es. There's a button on your cell that can activate the word predictor. It helps you type out the whole word without you needing to key in every alphabet. Yeah, I'm fucking Nazi in some things. You mind? Why? When did I say that I am Mother Teresa? I can't be either, all the time. I'll oscillate at will. My will i.e.

2010-08-27T23:01:00.005+02:00

'Hmm, is Orange house the name of the apartment building you are looking at? Ha, couldn't be more appropriate. Netherlands and orange, made for each other.'
'Yeah, strange that you picked up that association. I never thought about it.'
'You should live in a house called Tangerine instead.' *bittersweet smile*
'You sure know how to play with words and references.'
'You always knew that I am quicksilver when it comes to the brain.'

Tangerine, ladies and gentlemen! Is it only me or do you all agree that Robert Plant looks abso-fucking-100% gay!
Sigh! How do I get over the fact that my mind is keyed in? The only hitch being that the lock seems to need multiple keys. While the key fits into only two locks, the lock it was born with and this philandering one.
Ha ha! Two thumbs up to dispassionate people and two thumbs with two toes up to the dispassionate ones who have accepted their passionate dual side too!

So the 30th birthday

2010-08-27T22:21:00.004+02:00

My 30th birthday dawned dank, dreary, depressingly gray and even though I had planned to relax with a joint or two and a couple of drinks in my room watching some movie on the laptop the night before, a rather unfortunate conversation when I went to pick up my weed, had upset my peaceful state of mind. (Damn, these days it takes nothing but conversations to ruin my equilibrium. All of it speaks volumes on the fight-or-flight hormones surging through my brain and body.)
So no movie or drink or joint happened. I sat hunched up on my pillows staring at the ceiling waiting for the birthday cake and flowers that the sister had ordered for, to arrive. Arrive they did, sharp at 9a.m. just as I was drifting off to sleep. Then the multiple calls from home and friends came through and together they thankfully managed to cheer me up a little. Enough to send out a mail to a certain someone in Europe asking him to call me. Of course we need birthday reminders people. We know that pouty tantrums regarding why there was no call would result in unnecessary unpleasantness. Manipulative that Rakhi is, she wrote a breezy mail instead, but at the same time told herself that whether the call came or not, the day belonged to her and that she must have a firm hold on her life, bla bla. (You know the affirmative pep talks that you give yourself on and off? I'm talking about that.) The call came at afternoon when Rakhi was blissfully asleep but the phone had been left on loud mode, instead of the usual silent one. (Of course, because deny that we might, we expected a call after all, stupid!) An hour long conversation which ended with someone telling me

'Yeah I am a sweetheart but just not yours.'
'Or maybe you are my sweetheart ....'
'Yes I am.'
'But you don't want to be one. ha ha!' !!!!!

(I'm addicted to the sparring that only this person can get me to do. With everyone else, the talks would have been curtailed within 15 minutes typically using the word 'convenience' in one of its avatars.)

I got up, looked out of the window and saw the ominous clouds. The plan was to visit a temple near campus before hitting a nightclub. (Yes, I know the dichotomy gives you a mindfuck.) Now visiting a temple in partywear attracts more odd stares than indian clothes at a nightclub. Because when you're drunk and shaking a leg to some heavy duty trance, you don't give a damn about what anybody's wearing. At best you could check out somebody's dance moves, which, ladies and gentlemen, is the department I specialize in. (Yeah, I'm very subtle and cultured when it comes to beating my own drums.) Besides, there's a shock factor involved in watching a demure looking lass in a simple hand painted churidar kurta and shawl, morph into a joint-smoking, white rum guzzling, headbanging wildchild who hogs the spotlight on the floor with her dance moves. So off I went, to a nightclub I had never been to before, and did I have fun! I had such a blast that at one point my specks flew off my head and landed on the floor. With a myopia of -5D I'm rather blind. So after groping for the fallen specks on the floor for a bit, I asked the gentleman who had earlier lit my cigarette and requested for a puff from my joint (which I had refused for the record) to help me out. He handed it back to me but his revenge was this - he didn't tell me that one lens was missing. And I, the thirty going on seventeen dancing queen, didn't notice that a lens had fallen off. Then at one point, needing to grab some eatable, I left the dance floor and went in search of food. I ordered grilled prawns and a half vodka with lime, as I sank into a couch. The head was throbbing a bit, so I tried taking off my glasses and then it struck me - 'Of course. I'm using one eye for my viewing pleasure. The other lens is gone.' I doubled up in laughter and pushed the specks back into my bag. An offer for a lift home was made by a couple of sweet girls who thought I was in bad shape. (But of course, anyone would if they saw what I didn't see.) But I knew I was pretty sober. So got back to campus in an auto that charged me 200 rs for what should have been a 70 rs ride. Well, the autowallah said 'Madam, it's my responsibility to make sure that you reach home safely.' I said 'No sir. It's my responsibility that I get out of the discotheque steady on my feet, and rusty, but still functional in my brain.'
And that people, was the end of that. Except that later on I met another man who had been criticizing me for not being able to let my hair down, and recounted my tales. He was dumbstruck to see this side to his prim and propah friend. We smoked the remaining joint in my office listening to a few awesome guitar tracks by Satriani, Jeff Beck, Steve Vai, Hendrix and Jimmy Paige on youtube before calling it a day at 4a.m. Not bad for a 30th birthday eh?

What is it with men?

2010-08-24T17:27:00.007+02:00

A young (and single) professor on campus whose course I had happened to grade two years back took my phone number yesterday night, ostensibly to call me when he's free so that I can pop over into his office and collect a cheque for 4 grand that he owes me. The fact that instead of calling up, he could have easily mailed me a time, and that a week earlier I had spent a good hour discussing my work situation with him, asking for his opinion et al. were enough to suddenly, give me the jitters. 'Is he HITTING on me?' was the thought that crossed my mind as I stood, uncomfortable smile stretched across my face as he enquired after the silent mode of my phone. I had to also tell him that the cell is not usually carried around and I would have to save his number only once I got back to my hostel. The air was thick with discomfort, or so it seemed to me at least. But the professor waved me a blithe good-bye promising to call soon.

Now you can say that I am being paranoid. But then where do I draw the line, people? What do you do when every single man you try to make friends with, sooner or later, starts dreaming of making you his partner? I admit that I am carrying a lot of emotional baggage and also taking a huge risk by waiting for an epiphany, so to speak, when it comes to personal affairs. My solitary lifestyle, with the football field sized space that I demand for myself and willingly give to all people in my life, are interpreted as signs of loneliness perhaps. But none of that should be a licence for my so-called friends to, covertly or otherwise, make it amply clear that they want me in their lives in a greater capacity than that of a friend; if not as a partner, then for the occasional sex or a steamy kiss. And this, when I have maintained strict boundaries and never given them a reason to think that there was any emotional investment on my part in the relationships I have had with any of these men.

I have just written to two people asking them to leave me alone for the time being. And I daresay, if anyone else rubs me the wrong way again, I will send more such mails. The recipients of these mails will probably never understand how unpleasant it is for me and how I detest saying good-bye to friends. But then, I think they do not really understand what friendship and respect for a person are all about. And sometimes it may also be that they do understand but are in a state of denial because it shows them up for who they really are. After all, it's not age that determines how softly you tread upon this world and neither does it make up for the fact that your goals are all basically self-centred.

Take a look at the post dated August 19th, 2010 on this blog. You'll realize that I'm not the only woman with similar problems. Or that my 'problems' with men aren't imaginary. Something in this whole thing reminds me of a Phil Collins song called Wear my hat. Check out the lyrics here and you'll know why I'm referring to it. People, can anyone send me this song? I can't find a freely download-able mp3 anywhere.

Truisms

2010-08-22T22:16:00.003+02:00

If you have never faced real disappointment or failure, then it only means that you play too safe for life to ever be the joy that it is.
Trying and failing can be tough to handle, but the fulfillment one feels on having followed one's heart, instead of giving in to self-doubt, is enough to compensate for all the tears that you will ever cry.
Of course, you need to remember that hatred or vengeance are ruled out and no hanging onto the coattails of pain will be allowed. So only the best memories, whether they be professional or personal are preserved, and no blame, no long-winded critique, no guilt trips will add to your baggage. Just remember to be true to yourself, at each and every new step.

Spread the love ladies and gentlemen! You'll be up and dancing in no time at all. Today I got the annual progress report of the little girl in Jharkhand whose education I sponsor. Honestly speaking, it made my day.

Also the US visa fees have been submitted and now to schedule the visa appointment, which will necessitate a trip to Chennai again.
After a mad shopping spree yesterday and the visa, SEVIS fees, I'm broke. :(

2010-08-17T23:03:00.001+02:00

Two years ago, some time during the monsoons, one evening I was returning to the campus from one of my unscheduled jaunts downtown; alone, blue in mood and wandering in mind. It was raining, literally pouring, and as I sat inside an auto, half soaked, cigarette in hand, strains of Purple Rain came wafting from the car window next to me, stuck as we were, in a red light. The man driving the car rolled up the windows when red turned to green and just as I was dreaming of how the song was being played for me, the pretty scene ended in a roar of the car-engine. I caught myself wondering if the man would mind if I introduced myself and asked him to drive me around, only as long as the song lasted. A sweet thought, highly unrealistic, but such glimpses of life fleet by us and we keep complaining about how meaningless our existence is!

Since then, every time Bangalore has one of its gray days with incessant rains through the day, I play Purple Rain, pick up my cigarette lighter, even though I am officially off smoking, and light myself a cigarette as I stand by the window, watching it pour. Yes, the no-smoking resolution can be broken once in a while.

2010-08-10T21:41:00.002+02:00

Black, tapering pants with slits at the ankles, a crisp white shirt, short hairdo, a white, roomy tote, a colourful shawl to protect me against the moody Bangalore weather; now all I need are heels, not reebok floaters. :( And the black wristwatch the sister gave me, instead of the old leather-strapped one that I usually wear. But what do I do with old attachments ladies and gentlemen? :P This watch is with me for 14 years now, and the gold tops in my ears, for slightly longer than that. Says something about 'old is gold', huh?

So you guessed right - somebody's getting heavily into dressing all lady-like, and not being the perpetual college - student. I'd say with the big 3 oh coming up, I should finally make that transition. :D
Meanwhile, I'm in the mood for some serious dancing at a disco. Gotta find me the company. Wish some women I know through this blog were in this city. Knowing them in person would have been a treat. Yeah, I mean you Dreamcatcher, Blankspaces, Sunshine and Ideasmithy.

2010-08-05T13:16:00.001+02:00

A special pedicure, an oil massage followed by shampoo can work wonders to restore your equilibrium. Even more so when you have the company of a younger and less world-weary woman with you on your trip. She is a friend about 5 batches my junior over here and badly wanted a haircut at the same salon as mine. Almost all women here appreciate my haircut even though I have told them that I give my hairdresser absolutely no instructions, except for the length that I'd rather have. So off we went, and my friend got herself the new haircut she was hankering after. My hairdresser has even better plans for her, including some straightening and fringes, when she goes back next. Knowing the girl, I have a hunch she'll land up there in a fortnight and this time, she won't mind going alone. :)

Well, her pleasant demeanour did much to cheer up an old lady yesterday. And I hope a bit of my independence brushed off on her. A healthy exchange - that's the base of all human interaction at the end of the day, isn't it? Trouble starts brewing when the exchange is disbalanced in some way or the other.
And people, thank you for the good wishes. Mr. G knows how much I need them.

2010-08-03T17:54:00.004+02:00

Somebody stop this violence in Kashmir.
Please. Let these people be. Let them go if they want to. I cannot bear to look at the newspaper anymore. And all of this, just as I was starting to hope that it'll get better. Screw you, Omar Abdullah! For all your polished, suave appearance, you are and always were, as incompetent to handle the hot seat as the professor who taught me the advanced statistical mechanics course over here.

The fact that I still am in the same field just speaks of how easy it is to disguise one's ineptitude. But at least, I am not planning to become faculty somewhere and wreck the career of a hapless, ill-informed student who chooses me as his/her PhD guide. So Omar, shut the fuck up, and stop making excuses for this mindless escalation of violence. Save the Valley, instead of saving your ass for once. Or else, give the job to someone more capable than you.

2010-08-02T16:40:00.001+02:00

What does it mean when being in front of a camera seems scary? When being asked to smile for the sake of a photograph jars a raw nerve inside? When you just can't smile for anybody's sake anymore...Only for yourself can you smile, while the tears - they flow freely, anywhere, any time, for anybody at all.

2010-07-31T21:53:00.000+02:00

The shoulders are drooping, my neck aches and the back desperately needs a massage. I guess this is what is called stress. I'm slowly sinking down under. How long can one have to go through stress of this magnitude? Maybe it would be easier to withstand if it involved only either of the two - professional or personal. But what if it is due to both?

Sometimes I feel like the Radiohead song - No surprises.
I'm too exhausted to even provide you with a link to it. Go check it out. And despite all my hopes, since 2010 is proving to be one more trial by fire, herein can I ask all of you to send me your good wishes? Maybe leave a comment? Just to let me know that I am not so terribly alone?

2010-07-23T19:49:00.001+02:00

If you'd rather have walls around you, why not beautify them a little?

2010-07-23T13:12:00.000+02:00

Lending a shoulder to cry on or offering a word of support is a responsibility that behooves us all as human beings. It defines true friendship.

Love is deeper than that. It is living somebody's emotions as if they were your own - crying their tears, laughing their laughter, worrying for them as they march into the unknown with nothing but you to fall back on. It is feeling how entwined your own life is with the other, even though there may be years or miles between you. A time comes when that thought no longer encumbers you on your journey. That, ladies and gentlemen, is when you know you have loved.

Dancing days are back

2010-07-16T13:57:00.005+02:00

Surprisingly enough, I am living my life, the ups and downs, the highs and the lows, the pain and happiness - every emotion, every minute with my senses acutely awake.

The high tide comes in to drench and soothe as I remind myself that it has to withdraw because it's not up to us to stop flowing water. And then I walk out into the ocean itself, no longer waiting for the waves to come in, but courageous enough to go out and meet them.

Rang de Basanti - Khalbali
Aks - Banda yeh bindaas hai

2010-07-06T23:32:00.003+02:00

Because imperfections make me a person, and not a doll that you would see in a shop window;

Because imperfections call for love from hidden depths that you never knew even existed;

Because all imperfections can be perfected if you will yourself to.

Because you, of all those I hold dear, must understand the truth.

With love that will last a long, long time;

Just for its own sake maybe.

But then some things go on ceaseless and unmindful;

Because they make for life.

2010-07-05T17:55:00.002+02:00

If I have to live a half-life, I would rather live it alone.

Dabbling in the Tao of life

2010-07-02T18:03:00.004+02:00

Do you see how black and white complement each other?
Do you find the world to be a semi-complete one too?
One half that champions cynicism and looks for a selfish motivation behind every act of faith. The other half tries to make a life out of only hope, belief and dreams.
While the former invariably leads to a loss of focus and a false sense of power, the other leads to endless pain because dreaming with no real effort to back it up is hopelessly futile. What we need is a combination of the black and white, heart and mind, good and bad, to really be able to see the whole picture.
Your only weapon should be faith in yourself and a deep knowledge of where your boundary lies.

2010-06-24T16:54:00.003+02:00

I have utmost respect for the human spirit.
Isn't the ultimate goal in life to realize how resilient and powerful it is?
But it needs true nurturing for it to achieve that endurance.

To me, dancing to a new tune heard on the radio oblivious to who might be watching while walking the campus roads in the middle of a downpour, or eating only Lindt chocolates* for all three meals two days in a row define that nurturing.

*The Lindt chocolates were actually bought for Ma who's arriving this weekend. The lady loves Swiss chocolates and even though they cost the earth, I can buy her truckloads of them just to see her smile.
Mr. G up there, really knows what he's doing. I was looking at a job in Zurich. It didn't go through finally. Now methinks it turned out for the best.
The weakness for Swiss chocolates runs in the blood obviously. So does the tendency for rotundity. :-/ And Rakhi has no dying need to put on weight by feeding only on chocolates. You know about that saying 'Too much of a good thing - " ? Zurich would have found me passing out on sugar highs. Whereas, USA implies Hershey's, which in my opinion, tastes awful. Saved from unwanted weight gain. A (grudging) thanks, Mr. G. **

**Mr. G= Uh, um, God. :P Or should I say life? Ok, then we'll write Miss L from now on.

Click - Rubayee

2010-06-19T12:10:00.000+02:00

Since when did pain become a competition?
It's not me against you when it comes to how much hurt we harbour in ourselves. Let's stop this oneupmanship for once and get out there with a healing touch. And I know that the only way is to trust in myself and have some empathy for others. Not sympathy mind you; empathy.
What's the big achievement in collecting a shitload of cynicism because of some rough experiences? Show me some passion instead. No downcast eyes here. No smart alecky caddishness or misplaced feminism (as if sleeping with n number of men makes you more of a woman than I am!!) can save us. Here's to life lived the real way.

Creed - Higher

2010-06-11T14:32:00.006+02:00

Silence has remarkable healing powers. So does the process of cutting out all stray thoughts and concentrating on mundane, everyday tasks.
Who ever knew that washing clothes or cooking, reading a newspaper or playing with the cat in the courtyard, or even a cup of tea sipped under the canopy of green trees at the cafeteria can bring peace? That weeding out the angst-ridden rock songs and going back to the basics of the indian classical ragas could soothe?

All these and quiet meditation, for even ten-fifteen minutes and pledging to take responsibility for myself, are helping.
On to work now. The silence shall continue. Thanks Mr. G. Seems like I know the secret to living in the moment after all.

2010-06-10T12:13:00.007+02:00

The word that best describes me - Loner.
The work that gets me most motivated - Anything; as long as there is regular feedback on my progress or the lack of it. And help in the form of discussions as and when necessary.
The time when I am happiest - When putting in effort (probably much more than anyone can possibly imagine) and enjoying myself in the process.
The activity I am and will be in love with for the rest of my life - Learning; anything that catches my imagination. Once learned, it has to provide me with fresh challenges else, boredom sets in.
The people closest to me - Are often given absolutely no attention; sometimes for no reason at all. I cannot arrange for their sense of security. I expect exactly the same standards out of myself.

Over the last year or so, a realization has dawned on me -

It is important to meet your nemesis in life. That's when your best traits get reinforced. As a bonus you also get a chance to eliminate those that never worked in the first place.

The story of mp3 players

2010-05-29T01:29:00.001+02:00

Ladies and gentlemen, the 4th mp3 player in the form of a current generation 8gb IPod Nano, in shiny silver, is now plugged into my ears.

My love-hate relationship with mp3 players is a part of old folklore now. ;)

The first time I ever encountered a mp3 player was way back in early 2007, while on a trip to Allahabad to visit the now-married man. His friend had brought him a 2GB nano from USA and he was mighty proud of the rectangular, black coloured mobile-phone shaped thingy. :) Makes me smile thinking how I expected him to be generous enough to give it to me, just because.... The naivete of the young! Anyway, since he turned out not to be as magnanimous as I, in all my hero-worshipping innocence had imagined him to be, I was forced to contemplate buying myself a mp3 player soon after my return to Bangalore. And since disillusionment with the then hero had set in, of course, I had to get a Nano, and that too the latest one. So a mail was shot off to a friend in USA and she was entrusted with the job of carrying my first IPod, a white, 4gb Nano, back to India when she came home for holidays. That one lasted me through one and a half years, till it was stolen from my work-table in the department when I had left it unattended in October, 2008.

The 2nd IPod was a gift from the sister in 2009, who had, by then, completed about a year at her pharma company, and was in the flush of newly acquired affluence. This one was a 8gb Nano in black, encased in a smart black leather cover, and I was ecstatic. Thank God for rich siblings who insist on spoiling you. :) So the 2nd IPod lasted me through 6 months until I accidentally left it behind in an autorickshaw one evening last December. Height of absentmindedness, I know. The ensuing tears led to a close friend offering to buy me a mp3 player for Christmas. By now I thought IPods and me are jinxed (much like how love and I are jinxed. ;)) and hence opted for a 8gb Sony Walkman with fancy earphones. This was easier to operate than an IPod since I no longer needed to go the Itunes route and could just click and drag the mp3 files onto the Walkman, even from Ubuntu OS (the one I usually use on the laptop). My joy was shortlived though. This April, one saturday afternoon as I was washing a bucketful of clothes with the Walkman on and supposedly in my pocket, I suddenly realized that a black wire was projecting out of the bucket. On pulling the wire, I was shocked to see that the Walkman was inside the bucket itself, having dived into the water in a desperate attempt to commit suicide. I pulled it out, switched off the still-playing device, tried drying it with my t-shirt and then carried it back to the room to fiddle further. Well, I should have remembered that I am beyond terrible when it comes to repairing broken things. When all my attempts to switch it back on failed, in a moment of utter tomfoolery, I tried charging it, and within 2 minutes the poor Sony Walkman was toasted to death much like the incinerators used in our cremation grounds. :(

Thus goes my story with mp3 players. The record is a shade better than my performance in love. Or as bad, perhaps. [Yeah, I try to console myself with delusion at times.]
Well, under pressure to perform at work, I thought the least I could do was to gift myself a 4th IPod, and this time, make a public declaration to love and cherish it till death (if it lasts that long i.e.) So readers, just as I am still sticking to my no-smoking resolution taken almost 2 months back, I want to prove Mr. G up there wrong and keep my new silver sweetie safe in my heart. Umm, I mean safe in my pocket. Wish me luck.

2010-05-24T05:17:00.003+02:00

The word suddenly seems to veer around to marriages these days. The parents have given up on me though. This time the victim is the younger sister. Yeah, that goes against the traditional Indian family values, but then ours was never so tradition-conscious. I am being threatened with dire consequences if I fail to attend the shebang... Personally speaking I doubt if she will agree to marry in the near future, i.e. in one year's time. So I'm not taking out the planner yet.

And what on earth do I think about a marriage? What would you think when an old friend calls you up from abroad and says that his one-year old marriage has fallen apart? His was a love marriage and the courtship lasted close to 8 years. I have never met the girl but I have heard how lovey-dovey a couple they were...Needless to say the man sounds completely broken. And I stood holding the phone, woefully at a loss of words.
Then there's an older cousin who remarried after having annulled a painful first marriage, much to my jubilation. But now she says that the man is a suspicious freak, and takes out his career related frustrations on her. The matters sometimes get so out of hand that there are physical assaults as well. In our social set-up obviously the cousin feels that her family will never be able to accept her filing for divorce again. I hear her choked voice over the phone and return it with helpless silence.

But then again, I hear news that two fellow students here at my department got married less than a month back. It makes me smile because I never knew they were dating. :) Both friendly and warm, in all my interaction with them at the cafeterias, never once did I realize that they were a couple. They're a truly low-profile one, just the kind I prefer. :)
Wonder what advice I will give the sister if she asks for my opinion on the subject.

2010-05-22T14:33:00.000+02:00

Parents are gonna land in a month's time. With a deadline of 3 months to submit my thesis and publish at least 2 papers, I am having a real blast, as you can imagine. Ma promises me over the phone that she will let me be. Ma and Baba will be staying with the sister, at her huge (rented) apartment. Even though her house has French Windows (!!!!) and 3 balconies (!!!!) I am not tempted at all. Because it's far far away from moi campus. The autofare for a one-way journey is 130. Heh!
Which means that parents will arrive on campus and spend the entire day here, going back only late at night. No shuttling between campus and apartment, given that the two are so far apart.

Obviously we have awesome tales of fights in store. Or else, a silent, tired-of-the-circus, sulking me. The scenario is similar for so many others. :) Here's another woman waiting for the show to begin.

2010-05-05T01:28:00.005+02:00

Does anyone need proof for the fact that all inhabitants of my campus are off their rockers?
It's 3:30 a.m., pitch dark outside and yet I can hear a cuckoo singing away somewhere. !!!! And then the crows have had to follow suit with their loud socializing.
The crows, in particular, are an eccentric bunch. They are awake through 24 hrs. You can walk the roads at 11p.m. in the night and hear loud cawing overhead followed by some crowshit landing smartly on your just laundered shirt, or, if the crow gods are in a benign mood, then on your shampooed crown. A friend of mine from another campus during the course of his 2 day stay here, said that the a report on the crow phenomenon should be sent to Guinness. The people here of course have other explanations. PhD being such a tough job to get laid off from, the students here have no choice but to appeal to the crow gods to shit upon their heads. That's the ultimate blessing you see... It guarantees a speedy PhD.
And then you have the snakes, bats, rats the size of a tomcat (I've been told that they are bandicoots) and owls too... But if you force me to count the other creatures of the night, then I'll have to include a lot more. :P Moi included. Maybe even that is a matter to be handled by the Guinness.

2010-05-02T20:31:00.006+02:00

Some people find Enigma a turn-on.
I agree.
But only for pushing myself on the last lap of the jog.
-------------------
When the lungs are on fire,
Legs are soft as jelly,
Heart is in your mouth,
Out of breath, eyes out of focus,
Except for the end of the lap,
And the wristwatch ticking away
Your precious seconds
As you race against yourself-

Let the exhilaration in.
I guarantee you there's no greater high.
----------------------

I like to jog or power walk on a track to know the distance I've covered and thus, keep a check on the timing. Power walk is something I learned after an orthopaedic told me that with a semi-flat foot and a half damaged knee, I should not be jogging much. So I alternate between jog and power walk, mostly opting for the latter because the knee pain worries me. But what I find somewhat unusual is my inclination for a dark track. Not so dark that I can't see anything. Just enough so that I can't see faces. Do you think that's another idiosyncrasy? And what time of the day do you like jogging?

I wear red coloured pseudo-Converse shoes (pseudo because they are actually a Puma make) with blue jean shorts and a white/black/blue tee [Those three are my favourite colours. The tees are usually in solid colours with minimal touch-ups or prints.] So do you all think the colour combination is weird? Especially for someone on the wrong side of 25? :)

And now for the news - It has been 30 days since a cigarette. Well, if you don't count the single one I smoked the day of the gin-induced drunkenness and the few drags taken from my long time smoker 'other best man'. Gotta keep at it. :)

2010-04-29T23:30:00.004+02:00

There is no such thing as a really free lunch.
Know this to be true.
For friend or foe alike;
The love of your life, or the arch enemy;
The hand that gives, or the one that takes.

Can I ask whatever happened to loving another human being for who he or she is?

Yes, and don't you remember that a human being is essentially selfish? Even the bottomline behind loving a person is, in reality, self-serving. One loves when sure of his or her own happiness in return. One practices charity hoping for allegiance in return. Is that not why hearts break all so easily? And mend so easily too?

So tell me, who should I blame? Human nature again? Or a callous conscience?

Neither. Blame Darwin's theory. Survival of the fittest.

Lighthouse family - Ain't no sunshine

A song that has featured here earlier too. Makes me think of driving down a long lonely road, the sea on one side, hills on the other, twilight setting in and this song on loop...

Cold, cold heart

2010-04-23T17:41:00.001+02:00

If I tell you that more often than not some people just get subtracted from my life; that to me, it seems they are no longer alive; only our shared memories live on somewhere inside, would you then call me cruel at heart? Or would you understand that the conversations I had with them and the times spent in each other's company have reached closure...

2010-04-13T01:17:00.002+02:00

It's not as if you or me have never (or will never again) hurt anybody in our lives. But the difference lies in how we behave once the pain has been inflicted. And how much thought went into the whole affair before the words were uttered or the deed done.
How is it, that you fail to realize that some cuts are way too deep to be healed by sticking the band-aid of nonchalant, polite, and oh-so-hypocritical 'friendliness' over the wound. Why trivialize it when the hurt one is strong enough to take it as it comes?

It's time you learned not take silence for helplessness. Nor eyes overflowing with tears as powerless.

2010-04-07T22:16:00.001+02:00

I have been trying to kick the stick. Um, I mean stop smoking. Not just reduce the number of smokes down to one or two per day, but downright, stop smoking.
Last saturday, the kickboxing class I attend, almost killed me and I had to suffer the ignominy of having the instructor yell out 'Somebody has lost all her stamina. Where to, girl? Where to?' Sheesh!
I had been playing truant at the gym since February and as of March, Bangalore has been so darned hot that I decide to skip exercise on most days. Hell, summer does not agree with my system as it is; I can hardly sleep or eat without feeling like puking afterwards. Forget about drinks or any other vices. :( So sweating it out at the gym in such weather can't be a good idea, right? Of course I started smoking my usual number of them death sticks, (5 and above) and apparently my stamina levels are not happy with the recent fall from grace. Neither are my instructors.

That called for desperate measures and I, being the perpetual sucker for a challenge, thought 'Babe, let's stay off the cigarette.' And since challenges are passe :-/ without some temptation thrown in, I am still carrying my pack of classic verve together with the lighter in my bag. Even now, it's lying there, sharing space with the chewing gum. Lifesaver, the latter one. I'm chewing steadily whenever the urge strikes. But the mood swings are on. Badly, monstrously, horribly so. I need my daily high; even though it may involve a dizzy head, parched throat, lungs on fire and an irate instructor. To the gym, woman, to the gym - the solution to all your troubles.

102nd!!

2010-04-01T21:42:00.002+02:00

So the landmark achievement of having published more than 100 posts went by unnoticed. As usual, I had been too fucking absentminded.
But then again, Days going by is mine. So of course it has to bear the trademark signs that would characterize it as Rakhi's. :P
I changed the Kahlil Gibran quote in the header to a Herman Hesse one the day I wrote the 101st post. Does that count people?

I'm on my first Hesse book- Steppenwolfe. The hard copy is notoriously difficult to find in India. Maybe good ol' College Street would have thrown up a well-thumbed copy at the very least. But here in Bangalore, I couldn't find any copies, and even ordering one at Blossom's (Church Street, if you haven't been here to check out their collection, you're missing something.) didn't work. Finally, Powell Book Stores at Portland, USA, where I went for a conference, came to my rescue. I had long since stopped searching for it and was determined not to start with Siddhartha. (Ok, I dunno why. I'm a little stubborn.) But in the long meandering aisles of Powell Stores, (the largest independent used and new book store in USA) I came across a 1.95$ used copy of Steppenwolfe and it immediately landed in my shopping bag. My penurious state ensured that I couldn't buy the Plath, Neruda and the Paul Dirac biography that my hands had involuntarily added to the bag.

All's well that ends well. Steppenwolfe is now mine and my nights belong to it. I seem to have whole relationships with the books that I read with a mind to internalize them. Which again brings me to one of my isms....

It doesn't matter how many books you have read. What matters is if you have read the right ones. And then, how you read it. Some books (I won't say authours because I have read all books by certain eminent authors only to realize that it is not humanly possible to maintain nerve-singing depth in each and every one of them) deserve better assimilation than what we give them. Reading attentively is not quite enough. You need to assimilate it till it gets imbibed in your psyche.

Steppenwolfe is one such. I'm tempted to look up Hesse's other books too. Maybe Demian will do the trick.

Fault

2010-03-28T22:19:00.002+02:00

A time comes when you have given so much, that you have nothing left for yourself.
You try to remember what it felt like to be able to take. But then you also remember how you became just another ungrateful wretch while taking. And you feel disgusted by the pathetic double standards we all ascribe to, passing it off as an excuse for human nature.
The disgust so strong that you get reminded once again, why you can never ever allow yourself to fall. Only bend with the wind...Not fall...

I'm done with your underestimation

2010-03-25T23:05:00.001+01:00

If circumstances had allowed it, I would not have been your PhD student and you wouldn't have had to suffer me ; true.
I get by with minimum input from you regarding work or anything else in general. (more so since the time you first ticked me off for trying to take a vacation in summer when the problem YOU had assigned me was not really proving to be the stuff dreams are made of. Yes, dreams, that six letter word, which, incidentally, makes my world go round. Not just in work, in life. Period.) True again.
But does any of it give you the excuse to underestimate my capabilities to this extent?
To mention that I should have taken official leave before going for the most vitally important conference in my career so far, (and discussed my presentation with you too if you may add) failing which (also the discussion part :( ) I may not be given my travel allowance, was a bit too much for this old system to digest.
'It's good that you got an offer' when I happily told you about the post-doc position that I have been offered by a well-known scientist at Penn State University, is not what I expect from a man of your stature. Particularly since you had very little to do with the whole business, except for sending the recommendation letter (in which you may have screwed my case, for all I know).

It all seems plain and simple pettiness to me.

I tried very hard to keep my respect and regard for you intact through the rough 5/6 years that I have had with you and would still like to maintain a sincerely cordial relationship with you. (Why on earth? Well, because I like to pretend that despite the underestimation that you subject me to, you actually appreciate me for my qualities. Yeah, I like living in my bubble of delusion so as to keep myself happy.)

Just don't make it so difficult for me please. I am trying to be honest here. With you and with myself. I may have a personality, a functional mind to speak of. And we're not talking just physics here.
Please don't decide to dismiss all of it as too-much-attitude. Maybe you had something to learn as well.

2010-03-06T22:31:00.002+01:00

My best man left campus yesterday morning for France; bearing the PhD degree he had come here for. Technically he isn't a Dr. yet since the thesis defence hasn't happened. But like his guide told him the last time they met, he's a free man. I was happy and proud in equal measure, through his colloqium, thesis submission et al.
But then his hour of departure came and I realized that one of the closest friends I've ever had in my life, is going away with no immediate certainty of us meeting in person again. The daily coffee sessions and smokes, the drink-ups, the incessant jokes and pranks - everything that I had grown so accustomed to, have come to an end. I know it sounds like I'm in mourning. Can't help it though...Words just won't do justice to how valuable a friend he has been. Suffice it to say, that I feel as if I'm missing a limb.

Thanks for having taken me under your wing, mon ami. Thanks for being my pillar of strength, through good times and bad. Thanks for the patience you showed as I went clumsily about my life.
'Til we meet again dear fellow, and meet again we shall.

2010-03-04T13:50:00.002+01:00

I've outgrown the days when I needed to behave like a temptress. The need for validation, whether it be for looks, brains, or general philosophy, has simply vanished into thin air. Probably because I accepted myself, follies, foibles et al.

It has, however, made accepting the wannabes very difficult. So also the overgrown babies.

Soliloquy

2010-03-02T21:22:00.008+01:00

Surely resilience in a person does not preclude the possibility of his being vulnerable...
Surely courage in his heart does not necessarily imply that he never had a moment of doubt before going to battle...
Surely his never-say-die attitude is not to be confused with foolish immaturity....
Surely a goofy smile, a hope that stays alive come hail or sunshine does not automatically eliminate his saddest blues or blackest grief...
Surely the Zen way of life that a person has chosen as his philosophy cannot be an excuse to take advantage of him...

Because even the strongest among us is a mere human, far from being perfect.

All he can do, or, at most, is trying to do, is to aspire... For that elusive perfection...For Zen-ness, that one moment of glory. A glory that is not for him to define...That task remains to be fulfilled by those he leaves behind...

So be gentle, this fine day, ladies and gentlemen...Have some grace...Because we are all so fragile...
Aspire for all that you admire in a person...Without ego, without fear, without jealousy. For fear and jealousy are born of ego...Our precious ego that can only get us this far in life...
And then, no further...
For despite all that has been said and done we are still
Just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl year after year.

Pink Floyd - Shine on you crazy diamond

A letter

2010-02-22T12:03:00.000+01:00

Dear Mr. N. Mookerjee,

I did not want to have to write and ask you to lay off. One heated conversation on the phone was enough I thought. Why is it that you don't realize this simple truth - your continued visits to this blog is the sore causing the greatest irritation. You have been asked to stay away earlier, in polite as well as rude tones. Just because you USED to know me in real life, does NOT imply that your presence on this webpage is welcome anymore. I intensely dislike mixing up my real and virtual lives which is why I hardly give out my blog link to any real-life friends.

Please do not stalk me any further. Not at least in the world of blogs. If you have the guts, speak to me so that I can give you another piece of my mind.

Thank you,

Rakhi.

2010-02-19T23:53:00.011+01:00

I had told you that I never believed in making brothers out of the boys I hang around with. All that juvenile Rakhi-tying that the girls in school and college used to do, wasn't ever for me. I have a sister for a sibling and she is also the best one I could ever have.

So even though you might call me your 'Blood sister' (refer to Bruce Springsteen's Blood Brothers; lovely song) I can't reciprocate... I only ever knew friendship. And then that turned into love. For you. Because I wanted to heal. You and myself too.

Now that you say you feel caged, I am left speechless, paralysed by the fear that you'll demand much more from me as a friend than I can give. I fear that for the cause of self preservation I may subject you to my indifference.

Happy Birthday monsieur! Hope somehow, somewhere you'll know that I wished you, belated though it may be. Here's to you!

David Gray - Babylon.

2010-02-16T15:00:00.002+01:00

It's not that we give up being sentimental. It's just that we stop being sentimental about the same people or same things. Such is the name of the game called Life; or better still, Time....

Thanks R. Riding pillion on a bike is as much fun as I always knew it would be. :) To many more such rides and long conversations.

Coldplay - We never change

To the water gods of campus

2010-02-07T22:20:00.002+01:00

Dear God(s),

Thank you for making a cherished dream come true. It started with the taps running dry every single day when I got back from aerobics. I always tried very hard to maintain my composure and would carry the bucket and clothes to the bathing cubicles in the wing farthest from mine or, if situations were that dire, the neighbouring hostel. I am not even complaining about the lack of hot water in the showers, or worse, no shower heads at all [-something that would, in better days, make me very grumpy indeed]. But we are now almost at war. So of course, I have to stay prepared for the worst and kindly adjust (according to the principles that you follow). But today you have outdone yourself !!

As usual, I returned to the hostel around 10p.m. and went straight up to the showers to check if there's water in them. I was in luck. A happy Rakhi entered her room thinking to herself 'Ahh, finally I get to stand under the showerhead, run the geyser to my heart's content, twist the hot and cold levers to perfection, use my new shower gel instead of the boring soap and wash a coupla t-shirts and unmentionables.' In ten minutes I was under the said showerhead, gleefully rubbing a Green-tea scented spa gel by Mannings, (yeah, I'm a toiletries and perfume junkie... one of my very few weaknesses) onto myself, shampoo already on my head, when suddenly I got almost scalded by the hot water spewing from the shower spout. That, dear God(s) is a bad omen. It means, there is no more water and in 2 minutes you have to wash the soap off your body (get burnt in the process. Not to worry, all hostel girls store Burnol tubes in their rooms). Or else... Well, a classic 'Rahul, maine kaha tha na paani chala jayega!' situation [remember the ad that used to come on television a long, long time ago. I was a kid back then. Shit, I gave out my age right here. I'm a perfect @!$%^$#!!] So I stood, soap suds on my head, the blasted shower gel all over me, clothes soaked in detergent, and a dry shower. Here, I shall express my gratitude to the person who first thought of a bathrobe. Who'd have known that a simple bathrobe can be a life saver too?

Well, moi wore my specks, got out and went to complete my shower in one of the aforementioned stranger-bathrooms, soap on my head, half running down my specks, bubbles all over the visible parts of my body. On the way an inmate's boyfriend/husband (/brother/friend, but that's too boring.) saw me and because the stupid specks were back on my nose, I could make out the horror on his face and also the mad dash back into girlfriend/wife's room (possibly to report on me :-/). But standing in that bathroom, I realised that my childhood fear/dream of having this happen to me one day, has come true.

I am so thankful, God(s). From now on, just ensure that the taps do not run dry or else, I will have to ask my supervisor ;) to take me home and provide me with water. Oh no, that's not a threat at all.

Yours sincerely,

Rakhi.

P.S. I also understood that the heavens above conspire to keep me from mourning. Oh come on. Mourning, you know, random habits like procrastination and the consequent impossible deadlines, which require further procrastination (You've already lost the game. Why tire yourself out any more?). Believe you me, I was laughing out loud when I finally managed to wash off the soap, philosophical mood be damned.

2010-02-07T14:05:00.005+01:00

Sadness is a very private emotion. Happiness can be too.
But as you smile to yourself or laugh out loud in the breeze you are never completely alone. There are always others to stop and share that moment, even if you think that you are on your own. Ah, there is a lonely soul close by every which way you go. Not that you take it against them. Because happiness shared is happiness doubled.

Compare this scene to one of sorrow. In time you learn to hide yourself away, and the solitude becomes your balm.
Or maybe not. Maybe it just makes you a glorified escapist...

Audioslave- Show me how to live.

The other 'best man'

2010-01-30T21:50:00.001+01:00

'You're exasperating!!
An irritating piece of junk! And who has given you the right to throw your weight around when you're mad, huh?' *sulk, sulk*

'But these are the very reasons why you like me. *grin*
After all, you know that I don't irritate or exasperate run of the mill people. You're my man friday, my very own Jeeves!' :P

'Fat compliment that one!'

'Aw, come on Sir, don't be grumpy now. I know I'm blessed. See I came and had dinner with you, although YOU had to cook while I presided over the household.'

'Thank you so much, your majesty!'
'You're most welcome, my good man.'

Futility of 'I'

2010-01-27T12:09:00.002+01:00

Blown to bits by a searing ray of light;
The light that shines down on me at the hilltop.
Blown to atoms into a vast space of vacuum,
So great, so enormous that the 'I' pales in shame.
Nothing left of the 'you' or 'me' then,
Nothing but space and time.
And maybe the third dimension-
The question of creation itself.
The 'how', 'why' and 'when',
From eternity until now and onto forever.

The secret lies in the fulcrum

2010-01-26T20:07:00.000+01:00

I'm coming to believe that after all is said and done, it all hangs in the ability to hit the right balance. You know, how the right proportion of salt brings out the flavour of a dish? Well, similarly, just the right touch of affection brings out the best in an otherwise routine relationship that's fast becoming mundane. Or just the right drum beat balancing the other instruments, like the piano or the sitar or the saxophone, brings out the beauty of a jazz piece. :)

Had been to a wonderful world music concert at an auditorium very near campus this evening. It was called Melange. And the performing artists were from very diverse backgrounds from piano to saxophone, bass guitar to the sitar, tabla to the drums. But how they hit the balance between the east and the west! From hungarian rural music on a quaint old flute that the saxophonist had picked up from a street musician in Budapest, to Rumi's verses recited by an Iranian diva, set to the dulcet notes of typical Middle-Eastern music on the piano and sitar, it was a treat for the ears.

It left me wondering about how all-important it is to hit the right balance in life; how great it is to be able to attain the best of both worlds. Like the smoker who puts out his/her smoke while in the company of a respected elder... Or the man/woman who has been abroad for years but knows that touching Ma's feet when she comes to receive you at the airport, is a tradition that can't really be equalled. Or how after years of wearing jeans, a girl still tries to clumsily wear a saree just because there's a puja at home and Ma is too busy to help her drape it. :P

That mix helps lend the right touch of quirkiness to a predictable personality.
It was a spell binding concert and I followed it up with drinks and dinner at an open-air pub nearby. The dj knows me well and played some Floyd just because I asked for it. :) And the waiters remember my usual orders, both for the drinks and the food. All in all, heartwarming. 't was an evening well spent.
And now to get on with the work when tomorrow dawns. So how did your Republic day go guys?

Seats on buses and thereabouts

2010-01-20T21:37:00.003+01:00

Why is it that some people fall asleep in buses and can snore their way through the journey (perhaps even support their head on your shoulders! grr grr) while others like me, sit ramrod straight for 6/7 long hours, exhausted to the bone, (maybe even slightly drunk :P) but still don't manage to get some shut-eye?

I am a scientist, yet I've never been able to figure out how to recline these seats on Volvo buses, or for that matter in cars, or in flights . :-| Yesterday night during my 7 hour long bus ride to Bangalore from Chennai, I was struggling with this blue switch below my armrest, trying to get the damned seat to recline a bit. Its default position was 90 degrees as usual. I kept on pressing the switch like this girl sitting next to me, but while her seat leaned back easily, I could hardly move mine. !!!

Firstly, why is it that these switches or handles, are never alike in two different seats? Their location on the chair also has random variation! But worst of all, they all seem to work on different principles. Some need to be pressed up, some down. Others need to be pulled up or pushed down. So you have 4 choices coupled to the varying amount of force one needs to exert to get these handles or switches to work. Finally consider the fact that it might be dark inside the bus/car/plane and you have a klutz like me, completely at sea as to how the ride can be made a teeny bit more comfortable. More so, when her foolish pride doesn't let her ask for help. Ughhh!!!

Maybe being an experimentalist would have given me some additional knowledge on how to deal with machines...But then how do non-scientists or non-engineers recline their seats? Damn, my IQ must be real low. But then again, perhaps that's not such a bad thing. ;)

Got pink slipped at the US consulate. Them visa officers need to check my professional and educational background. I've sent over the cv they needed by email and now keeping my fingers crossed regarding this conference. So back on campus, back in the hostel, in the office and in the gym class. :) There's so much work to do that it's not even worth thinking about. I'll just start hyperventilating if I do.

Listened to Led Zeppelin's The Rain Song and Robert Miles Fable (Dream version) on loop during my sleepless bus ride.

Bluesy

2010-01-15T21:10:00.000+01:00

When you can forgive but can't forget,
When you are sad but still strong enough to carry on,
When you know that anger has dripped off your very being;
And you don't lose your temper anymore because you understand...
Well, everything....
That's when you know that the BLUES have you in their grip.

Tom Petty - Free falling.

Happy '10 everyone

2010-01-11T19:49:00.009+01:00

A little late in the day to be wishing you a happy new beginning. But procrastination being one of my favourite hobbies the new year post that was supposed to be written within the first week itself has taken 11 days to materialize. As a result I no longer find the wonderful party I went to on the 31st night a topic that interests me enough... Hmm now what does that say about my attention span? Not good things I'm afraid.

Well, there was a party at a stranger's house where I went with J and her friends; the first time that I was out with J since she moved in next door in August. The most enjoyable part of the evening was me switching off with Porcupine Tree's Fear of the Blank Planet playing on the new Sony mp3 player that I received as a gift on Christmas. [I lost my 2nd IPod! Yes, I LOSE things. BIGTIME.] We had been sitting on the terrace done up in tiny lights under the blue moon of 2009 smoking weed and after 2 joints it was time for me to be there and not be there at the same time. People later told me that they thought I was too high...I wasn't. It's just that I need my peace and sadly, socializing doesn't always allow me to have that.

Since then I've been busy trying to arrange for a US trip in March. I'm scheduled to present my work at a conference there but US being US, the organizers won't pay a single paisa for travel or local expenses. So I'm having to arrange for funding from Indian Govt agencies and we all know how tedious that can be. Put that together with the US visa acquisition circus and you know why I'm always going around with a frown on my face these days. I'm just hoping that it all comes through because I'm dying to get away from campus for a few days. Travelling on my own is a passion. It brings equanimity to my life. That apart, work is not going great guns. The reason being that I'm finding it difficult to concentrate again. It's not that I hate physics. The problem has now become one of boredom... I am bored... and I can do things well only when I'm excited by them.

J will be leaving for Munich soon and I dunno when we'll meet again. She seems to gel with me better than all the Indian girls that I've met over here. Okay, before you jump at the last statement and declare me a sucker for firangs, in my defence let me say that I'm not to be categorized so fast. There are some people I feel comfortable with, in all imaginable situations. That to me is enough. There's an internal mechanism that selects what/who I feel that comfort level with. It's my ultimate guide. If I meet an Indian girl here who manages to make me feel at such complete ease, she'll be my friend too.

I shall sign off now and leave you with some Porcupine tree.

Listening to Porcupine Tree's Anesthetize.
Next up Sentimental.

Narcissus' daughter

2009-12-26T22:15:00.005+01:00

Had been on a tea session at 2a.m. whence came across a piece of gossip. It seems that a woman here ( I know her face and name but I'm not personally acquainted with her.) has been telling people that the sexiest/most mysterious person whether male or female, on this campus, is me.
I wonder if I should feel flattered.

Listening to Pearl Jam's Garden.

2009-12-26T20:53:00.003+01:00

I'm getting too verbose these days. Need a course on precis writing or some such to cure me. :-/
--------
Do you ever think of yourself as androgynous? Try doing it. It's the best way to defuse sexual tension in your daily social life.

2009-12-22T13:52:00.006+01:00

Someone had asked me a month back whether I had liked watching Krzysztof Kieslowski's White of the trilogy called Trois Couleurs. I did watch it about two years ago along with Bleu and Rouge, but also remembered being much too disturbed by the theme of revenge and masochism portrayed in Blanc to be able to like it. Rouge was my favourite. It still is, even though Bleu has a unique sense of silence that I find very appealing. If you haven't seen Blue you won't understand what I mean by 'sense of silence'. It's not a silent movie. Just that the visuals and the striking blue motif throughout emphasize but one quality - silence. Well that's my perception at least.

But what I'm wondering now is why I was asked if I've liked White. I didn't react to the question that day but I have an answer ready for that person now.

Hatred is as much of a bondage as love is. Even worse, hatred locks you up in a cage of your own making, distorting every vision of happiness that life puts in your way. Plus I can't derive an iota of peace or joy from hatred as compared to that from love. So I choose not to hate or to seek revenge. Instead I prefer to be grateful for all that I still have, to be happy the way I am, to let things be. I choose to be free from all chains. Particularly that of hatred. Amen.

2009-12-20T00:41:00.006+01:00

Just a very short one here to tell you that I've discovered a blog with the coolest music links ever. The blogger gives links at the end of each post and I'm now sitting awake listening to it all. That too, after 3 stiff drinks. Black Label. Yeah, the Scotch baby.
*grin* Someone's getting rid of ze hang-ups. Courtesy ze best man again. :)
Yes, yes I know I can't technically have a best man, being female and all. But who cares? Best man he is to me.
Anyway, to get back to the topic, I believe I should share the brilliant blog with you too. So here goes - Saltwater Blues.

2009-12-18T16:50:00.010+01:00

I'm abso-fucking-lutely tired of the dirges that I keep on writing at times. No matter how poetic all that pathos may seem, it still does not make me proud.

For Pete's sake, get a grip on yourself lady. Being a slave to your mood is not the only recourse. It just implies that you lack the strength to pick up the pieces and build again.

It's a seashore, woman. The waves are there to wash your castle away sooner or later. It's not the end of the world, just a design to test your faith. Besides, there is always time to make up for earlier mistakes as long as you do not repeat them. Let's go back to square one, it is, after all. :)

So even though I shall lend you an ear once, twice maybe even thrice, if you refuse to help yourself in the end, don't expect me to carry the burden of your soul. The embers glow on, the fireflies dance around the ashes where you have set your earlier dreams to flames and yet, you must know where you have to be thereon. If need be, walk away from me too you shall. Just as the one who used to be my friend, to live his own life he did. I won't hold him guilty for choosing to find his way, albeit it divided the one which was 'ours'. It's a me-first attitude that must make room for the 'us' not the other way round.

There, now you can go on and hang me for my selfishness.

Listening to - Leonard Cohen's Bird on a wire.

Cost of moping

2009-12-14T17:44:00.008+01:00

Unsettling thoughts and waves of restlessness...
There's nothing special that I am waiting for though.

But then again, this bravado is perhaps only pretence. Just another useless attempt at egotism that I never could master, a lie that I know well. Know it inside out I do, just as I know my fear of acknowledging it for what it is.

How many more days should I wait? What of this thirst? Pray tell me, what of this unrest? The mind runs helter-skelter, unharnessed and wild. No time to spare to even concentrate on the job at hand.
In other words, suicide.

Listening to - Soundgarden's Like Suicide.

2009-12-13T20:20:00.006+01:00

Just the thought of not having been there for a friend in trouble is dragging me down.
Yesterday night an old and dear friend of mine had called in desperate need to speak to somebody; the unearthly hour of the call being necessitated by our time difference. I was awake and in fact, was right here at my desk but the phone, on silent as usual, lay tucked away inside the satchel. Making myself inaccessible has its advantages but for now it has become a source of major guilt.
As for her, she's not responding to the multiple mails I've sent her today. I suppose I'll dial her number by and by.
We really underestimate how valuable we remain to those who are no longer a part of our daily lives. [I haven't spoken to her in months.]
I believe I touch a lot of lives even though I consciously refrain from letting myself become a part of their routine humdrum days, and vice versa.

A case in point would be a new friend from my gym class whose movie invitation this evening I refused for the second time in a month. But I'm really not an unsocial monster who disposes of people going out of their ways to initiate contact. Despite the refusal today, his simply worded sms had brightened me up yesterday. The satisfaction I felt on having just listened to his story and being able to give my tuppence was doubled on reading that he felt better after speaking to me. I uttered a silent prayer of gratitude for all those who have shared my woes down the years. Even to all of you. :)

This is me now. Alone, but not seeking company, strong willed but ready to learn, empathetic but not sympathetic, proud of myself but grateful for every single person who has been a part of my life. I miss you but I've vowed never to feel that aching need. You know who you are.

I'll be there always. If you remember me the way I was, you already know that I'm right there beside you in your hour of need, never mind the call I didn't receive. Take care.

Brubeck + Audrey = magic

2009-11-30T20:44:00.008+01:00

First heard this piece in his half lit room; some half forgotten afternoon. Gazes askew, till slanting eyes snatched a look at the other's face, unseen, unknown, unspoken for. Silence reigned, except for these beautiful notes.

My imagination ran wild that day. Thought of a path running through woods that wear the brightest shade of green, splashes of sunlight here and there, the lady Audrey traipsing along, parasol in hand.

I still can't listen to it without conjuring up those same images. Listen to it to feel those afternoons of jazz and easy silence.

2009-11-20T19:11:00.003+01:00

I'm dreaming Paris and Eiffel Tower, Champs De Elysses and Arc de Triomph, Sacre Coeur and Montmartre, greengrocers tucked away neatly behind corners and busy tube stations, quaint old streets and cute cafes where people still seem to have the time for a conversation; Paris, my dream destination and you. Je t'aime, vous idiot!

I'm dreaming Europe for moi, dearies! Can't wait to get there.
(Ahem post triggered by watching clippings from Amelie yet again. :P
Well, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do for her kicks.)

New lessons

2009-11-16T19:58:00.012+01:00

Numbness is a religion unfamiliar.
The mirror reflection shows changes now.
An extremist of yore, she can no longer find peace in her temple.
The worshipped one demands more, that much more out of her. Powerless she never was; never will be. But then why does she feel like not feeling anymore?

Only noiseless screams ring out; screams of pain as the changes come inevitably. Screams for life. For love.
For you and me.

"You say when he hits you, you don’t mind
Because when he hurts you, you feel alive
Oh now, is that what it is?

U2 - Stay (Faraway, so close)
Uploaded by Kilgore81. - See the latest featured music videos.

Just in jest!

2009-11-08T22:09:00.009+01:00

I know this will sound strange.
Some of you might think that I am getting involved with an ex yet again.
(Do I need to reassure anyone that I am most definitely not doing anything of the kind?)
While watching Ajab Prem Ki trailers, I noticed what an uncanny resemblance he has with Ranbir Kapoor!
No really, I mean it. :)
I remember back when Saawariya had released I had given it some thought after looking at the movie poster. Had then decided that Ranbir has a softer mouth. But Ajab Prem Ki has finally convinced me. He looks like a slightly older version of Ranbir.

Hmm, sniff, sob! To think that the man finally decided to leave me and marry someone else!

(Now you go figure out which sentence above has the joke. he he! )

Trite, I know!

2009-11-03T22:37:00.002+01:00

कभी कभी कुछ जितने के लिए कुछ हारना पढता है।
और हारकर जितने वाले को बाजीगर कहते हैं।

Purple Rain

2009-11-01T21:12:00.005+01:00

It's raining a deep dark purple hue through the last two nights here.

Read a question over at Elucidations. :) Dreamcatcher had asked what could be the colour of passion... Even though I've never been a painter, I seem to know the answer. It'd be purple probably.

Autumn in Bangalore

2009-09-09T11:57:00.006+02:00

It's a beautiful day. The sun is up and skies are just the right shade of blue with a smattering of white clouds in between. In fact it seems like the perfect time for me to bunk work and go for a long walk somewhere followed by reading a book at peace in a roadside cafe. :)

The best seasons in Bangalore are spring, autumn and winter when the skies are clear but the sun feels gentle on the skin. It is so pleasant that you'll want to go for a picnic every single day. Besides the festivals are almost upon us, which means autumn is already here. No wonder, I'm loving the weather. :)

It has been raining everyday through the last week, what with the late monsoon. But the persistent grayness can be quite depressing for the spirit sometimes. Since taking off for a day isn't the best thing to be done at this juncture of a PhD, I'll make do with Nick Drake on my laptop and get to work presently.

If you're a Bangalorean, tell me at what times of the year does the weather in the city compel you to stay on here and endure the pollution, the traffic snarls and burgeoning populace? After all, where else in India can you enjoy such perfectly mild weather for most parts of the year? What'd we do without life's little blessings? :)

2009-09-01T00:20:00.006+02:00

I wait endlessly; an interminable wait perhaps. One that runs into months and then years. I can only wish that it comes to fruition some day. I admit that I failed to understand you. I was going by bare facts and suppositions. If you could grant me one more hearing, I would have tried to right those wrongs. But you didn't consider my apologies to be sincere enough. Neither did you try to see the dreams nurtured so lovingly behind my hardened eyes.

So I am to be left alone once again. Maybe I'll be able to find another way. Patience, just patience would do the trick baby.

2009-07-31T22:48:00.005+02:00

I want to write but I don't seem to find the right words. There's a high tide pulling me along and I'm just going with the flow these days. It has taken a lot of effort to resist. For a change, thought of giving myself some reprieve.
But although there's so much to say the words aren't taking shape in the mind's eye. A writer's block? But then I never was much of a writer; just as I've never been much of a singer, or a physicist. :)
I'm just a Jane of all trades. And if something starts to feel like work, then Jane runs away for play. :)
See you later. Hopefully some time soon.