Sometimes it’s so chaotic all around. I feel like dismantling the world, packing it in some wooden box and sending it adrift some placid river.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Code is Poetry
My parents have got those forms finally. Matrimonial!!! Hell ..I mean its so nice to belong to people who won’t force you into anything you disapprove of.. But, then here I am.
I always found the whole marriage in an arranged sort of a scenario outrageous. They call it poetic justice. Now, my parents have finally got the forms. They have heard enough of my excuses. Its time sweetheart.. Its time..
The whole and they lived happily ever after sort of a thing seems so unreal to me. I mean in any scenario. And seems more unreal in this forms and photos sort of a scenario. Not with the sort of a person I am and not with what my close friends have to say about me.
Jui, you shouldn’t intimidate guys .. See, guys prefer dumb women. If you ever talk like this, I am telling you it’s difficult.
Jui, it’s a different thing to adopt any one-winged pet and a different thing to fall in love with a guy who doesn’t have any backbone.
Jui, can you please stop laughing like that.. your eyes are a dead giveaway.
Jui, D is a better person than you. You are just so you..
Jui, you aren’t strong at all. Just too weak to ask any help..
Jui, everytime I meet you I think I have understood you ..finally. But you are just so different the next time I see you.
People keep asking me all the time.. See, a Dr. marries a Dr. An actor marries an actress. So, what about you.. I don’t know anything about this. Yet, I say I want to marry an artiste. Anyone who has a heart to understand that art is art.. And, its not limited to the obvious forms like the theater, poetry, paintings. I read somewhere on some programming website Code is Poetry.
Don’t ask me what I was doing on that site..
I always found the whole marriage in an arranged sort of a scenario outrageous. They call it poetic justice. Now, my parents have finally got the forms. They have heard enough of my excuses. Its time sweetheart.. Its time..
The whole and they lived happily ever after sort of a thing seems so unreal to me. I mean in any scenario. And seems more unreal in this forms and photos sort of a scenario. Not with the sort of a person I am and not with what my close friends have to say about me.
Jui, you shouldn’t intimidate guys .. See, guys prefer dumb women. If you ever talk like this, I am telling you it’s difficult.
Jui, it’s a different thing to adopt any one-winged pet and a different thing to fall in love with a guy who doesn’t have any backbone.
Jui, can you please stop laughing like that.. your eyes are a dead giveaway.
Jui, D is a better person than you. You are just so you..
Jui, you aren’t strong at all. Just too weak to ask any help..
Jui, everytime I meet you I think I have understood you ..finally. But you are just so different the next time I see you.
People keep asking me all the time.. See, a Dr. marries a Dr. An actor marries an actress. So, what about you.. I don’t know anything about this. Yet, I say I want to marry an artiste. Anyone who has a heart to understand that art is art.. And, its not limited to the obvious forms like the theater, poetry, paintings. I read somewhere on some programming website Code is Poetry.
Don’t ask me what I was doing on that site..
Friday, October 26, 2007
Sounding Funny
"What? Who?" Dabid Gimore..Dabid Dabid.. Utube..
Okay.. So the colleague was right . I couldn’t make it to office today.. Because, I am sounding funny and feeling funny too. Cough..
I keep telling others and myself that you should live in this moment as if it’s the only .. You should be totally present in the present moment. That makes every second a moment. That’s exactly what I haven’t been doing lately. Either I am going too slow or too fast. The present moment either is half spent thinking about that phase behind me or the one which I can smell is on its way.
This moment fails to amuse me enough. Everything’s perfect. As perfect as it can be. Yet, I am not there in that perfect moment. I have outgrown this particular phase. The perfect looking T-shirt doesn’t fit me anymore.
Okay.. So the colleague was right . I couldn’t make it to office today.. Because, I am sounding funny and feeling funny too. Cough..
I keep telling others and myself that you should live in this moment as if it’s the only .. You should be totally present in the present moment. That makes every second a moment. That’s exactly what I haven’t been doing lately. Either I am going too slow or too fast. The present moment either is half spent thinking about that phase behind me or the one which I can smell is on its way.
This moment fails to amuse me enough. Everything’s perfect. As perfect as it can be. Yet, I am not there in that perfect moment. I have outgrown this particular phase. The perfect looking T-shirt doesn’t fit me anymore.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Jesus in the sky
The train swished its way through the twilight. The Mumbai local train journeys can be enjoyable if you like to look at the world.. The whole world is punched and packed inside the compartment. It’s a bundle of experiences.
Yesterday was different. I started from office a little late. Women were already reaching home I guess, by that time. I could actually see the compartment floor and room to keep both my feet on the floor. Most times I would be forced to imitate the Lord Krishna posture or hear the yelps despite the Floyd song singing in my ears. The women would yelp an ouch or some slang at my heeled shoe. “Headed straight ..into the shining sun…”
Some stops later, I got a chance to stand there at the compartment door. The comparatively empty train seemed to be moving faster than usual. The chilly breeze on my face.. It always makes me feel like a bird, whenever I stand there at the compartment door. Felt like spreading my wings and flying past the train.
What can you say about a twenty-five-year-old girl who died?
That she was beautiful. And brilliant. That she loved Mozart and Bach. And the
Beatles. And me.
(Courtesy- Eric Segal)
As my long frilly hair freed itself from the tight clutches of my rubber band, It took me back in time..That particular journey where the friend and me were squatted on the compartment floor, watching the sun set somewhere behind the ranges and my hair had announced its freedom, was flying by the wind.. The friend and me had looked like 2 vagabonds. She had smiled that carefree smile,. There was no holding hands and gossip talks between us. .nothing like any typical friendship between two women.
There were only those silent conversations and the acceptance of the other so dissimilar yet similar to the self. She had said that I had looked beautiful like that.. squatted on the floor next to her, not looking at her. My hair flying by the wind..
That’s exactly what I used to tell her when she stood there on her own, admiring herself in that mirror, cigarette in her fingers.. not looking at me..
Here, in this train I was reminded of that moment in that journey.Then I came back to the present journey. The tall buildings at some distance.. I looked up to see how tall they actually were. And then I saw Jesus in the Sky. I wish I could have somehow frozen that image on some paper. A guy stood at his balcony, some 15 levels above the ground.. his hands spread relaxingly on the balcony rim. The evening sun showed the silhouette of that man suspended in the midair.. It was like seeing Jesus in the Sky.
Yesterday was different. I started from office a little late. Women were already reaching home I guess, by that time. I could actually see the compartment floor and room to keep both my feet on the floor. Most times I would be forced to imitate the Lord Krishna posture or hear the yelps despite the Floyd song singing in my ears. The women would yelp an ouch or some slang at my heeled shoe. “Headed straight ..into the shining sun…”
Some stops later, I got a chance to stand there at the compartment door. The comparatively empty train seemed to be moving faster than usual. The chilly breeze on my face.. It always makes me feel like a bird, whenever I stand there at the compartment door. Felt like spreading my wings and flying past the train.
What can you say about a twenty-five-year-old girl who died?
That she was beautiful. And brilliant. That she loved Mozart and Bach. And the
Beatles. And me.
(Courtesy- Eric Segal)
As my long frilly hair freed itself from the tight clutches of my rubber band, It took me back in time..That particular journey where the friend and me were squatted on the compartment floor, watching the sun set somewhere behind the ranges and my hair had announced its freedom, was flying by the wind.. The friend and me had looked like 2 vagabonds. She had smiled that carefree smile,. There was no holding hands and gossip talks between us. .nothing like any typical friendship between two women.
There were only those silent conversations and the acceptance of the other so dissimilar yet similar to the self. She had said that I had looked beautiful like that.. squatted on the floor next to her, not looking at her. My hair flying by the wind..
That’s exactly what I used to tell her when she stood there on her own, admiring herself in that mirror, cigarette in her fingers.. not looking at me..
Here, in this train I was reminded of that moment in that journey.Then I came back to the present journey. The tall buildings at some distance.. I looked up to see how tall they actually were. And then I saw Jesus in the Sky. I wish I could have somehow frozen that image on some paper. A guy stood at his balcony, some 15 levels above the ground.. his hands spread relaxingly on the balcony rim. The evening sun showed the silhouette of that man suspended in the midair.. It was like seeing Jesus in the Sky.
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as i finished writing this one.. i received a mail from Bhumika..She was my batchmate in pune.. I found this on her blog.. I think her lines describe my stay in Pune too..
L5-13
Hariyali se dhaki un galiyon mein
Humne bhi ek jahan banaya tha
Ek chote se kamre mein
Duniya ke har sukh ko paaya tha
Yaaron ke saath bitayi thi kai shaamein
Tanhaiyon mein thandi hawaon ko apnaya tha
Bin vajah kiye the jahan jhagde
Phir gale lag, ek dusre ko manaya tha
Har baat pe hasi
Har cheez mein shararat
Har pal ek naya khwaab sajaya tha
Us kamre ki woh choti khidki se
Humein ek naya aasmaan nazar aaya tha
Shayad khud hi ko khokar
Humne wahan ek naye main ko paya tha
p.s.- L5-13 is her hostel room no..:)
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Haanji betaji!
And I miss Pune again. .I miss the Pune Hindi. No.no.. I am not referring to the Hindi ripped apart by the localities there. That’s not the Hindi I miss. I miss the Hindi the Delhi Kitchen mess owner used to speak.. After a long frustrating day at the most frustrating place in the Milky Way, Webtech Developers Pvt. Ltd.
The 1st day at this disastrous place, they called it the Webtech office.. But I never could really accept it as anything close to any office. The very 1st day a guy who claimed to be the Boss got a shock of his life!! All because of me.. On the 1st day I opened my gmail and mailed my research papers to my research guide.. He crossed his arms at me and made a sincere attempt at trying to make me feel guilty.. From that instance on, I glanced a thousand questions at him.. The 1st time my cell phone rang there in that office the people around looked at the device as if it was some siren announcing some war or something like that.. I had looked at the boss to see if he would suffer a cardiac arrest at my expense. I hate people trying to discipline me..
Nevermind..I still love Pune.. When the day would near its end.. and the friend would drop me at that signal post , she would say a peculiar bye to me… chal re.. kal phone kariyo..the 1st time I heard this Hindi I was all smiles.. I was surrounded with this new Hindi for those 2 years and still hear it sometimes on phone..The friend who would greet me with his cheeky chakkar kya hai tera ha..everytime he met me or happened to call.
The days when I would be in a cribby cribberson avatar at the univ .. those opening lines would always make me laugh.. wah beta! ki haal hai ?…Sometimes these conversations did not involve me, I would be eavesdropping on this north Indian troop…Ki haal hai bhai??Its not in the language alone.. It’s more about their lively nature on the lousiest of the days. I miss that here ..
When I would reach hostel from Webtech developers feeling absolutely underdeveloped.. and realize that the dabba aunty had ditched us one more time.. I miss making those trips to Delhi Kitchen and hearing the overfriendly “ haanji beta.. aap kya khaoge?” I mean it really amused me so much, the guy would greet even the 6 footers and the rowdiest of the lot with his so genuine “ haanji beta.. aap kya khaoge?”
I miss playing the waiter. I miss making those phone calls..and making those repeat conversations. Okay.. one rice plate for you with tadka dal.. and 4 rotis for you and 2 for me and 3 for her one rajma ..
..chal ghar time pe aaiyo.. apna khayal rakhiyo..
The 1st day at this disastrous place, they called it the Webtech office.. But I never could really accept it as anything close to any office. The very 1st day a guy who claimed to be the Boss got a shock of his life!! All because of me.. On the 1st day I opened my gmail and mailed my research papers to my research guide.. He crossed his arms at me and made a sincere attempt at trying to make me feel guilty.. From that instance on, I glanced a thousand questions at him.. The 1st time my cell phone rang there in that office the people around looked at the device as if it was some siren announcing some war or something like that.. I had looked at the boss to see if he would suffer a cardiac arrest at my expense. I hate people trying to discipline me..
Nevermind..I still love Pune.. When the day would near its end.. and the friend would drop me at that signal post , she would say a peculiar bye to me… chal re.. kal phone kariyo..the 1st time I heard this Hindi I was all smiles.. I was surrounded with this new Hindi for those 2 years and still hear it sometimes on phone..The friend who would greet me with his cheeky chakkar kya hai tera ha..everytime he met me or happened to call.
The days when I would be in a cribby cribberson avatar at the univ .. those opening lines would always make me laugh.. wah beta! ki haal hai ?…Sometimes these conversations did not involve me, I would be eavesdropping on this north Indian troop…Ki haal hai bhai??Its not in the language alone.. It’s more about their lively nature on the lousiest of the days. I miss that here ..
When I would reach hostel from Webtech developers feeling absolutely underdeveloped.. and realize that the dabba aunty had ditched us one more time.. I miss making those trips to Delhi Kitchen and hearing the overfriendly “ haanji beta.. aap kya khaoge?” I mean it really amused me so much, the guy would greet even the 6 footers and the rowdiest of the lot with his so genuine “ haanji beta.. aap kya khaoge?”
I miss playing the waiter. I miss making those phone calls..and making those repeat conversations. Okay.. one rice plate for you with tadka dal.. and 4 rotis for you and 2 for me and 3 for her one rajma ..
..chal ghar time pe aaiyo.. apna khayal rakhiyo..
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
I am so ridiculously me..
I am so ridiculously me. I wish I could change my ways. I wish I could unlearn a few things. I wish I could learn to pretend at least.. It’s been like this since the time I started recognizing myself. The friend gets hurt one more time.. Because I am just me.
Is it the clear understanding of me or just the absolute misconception, I never can quite figure. I think I don’t try enough.. The friend usually finds it very easy to relate to me. Then the friend wants to religiously follow all the age-old adages on friendship..
Space bubble.. mindspace. Where I am me..The friend comes closer.. pleads a glimpse at me. And, then I take that wicked back step…one more time..
The guilt doesn’t help me much. It hasn’t helped me at all. I am so ridiculously me.
Is it the clear understanding of me or just the absolute misconception, I never can quite figure. I think I don’t try enough.. The friend usually finds it very easy to relate to me. Then the friend wants to religiously follow all the age-old adages on friendship..
Space bubble.. mindspace. Where I am me..The friend comes closer.. pleads a glimpse at me. And, then I take that wicked back step…one more time..
The guilt doesn’t help me much. It hasn’t helped me at all. I am so ridiculously me.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Too much to fit in a blogpost
We never see plants growing .. but they do evolve.. That’s what has been happening with me.. There is change happening. Metamorphosis. It’s maybe not my choice. Maybe it is. I don’t want to know. There is this fluidness about life. You know it is taking you somewhere. You don’t know where. And, you are excited and scared, both at the same time..I don’t know where I am headed to .. I just know that the journey has begun. Its really very scary. But I will live in the moment. I will live through the metamorphosis.
Past few days I was busy with the Navaratri . It happened at my place for the 1st time and will happen next after 35 years. It’s a dynasty thing. So involves a lot of families who share my surname and we will get a chance to bring the goddess again when our branch in the family tree gets a chance to do so.
The goddess looks beautiful.. It’s a silver mask. It’s the most expressive face I have ever seen. But the house was most times too crowded.. I like my prayer to happen in silence. Its between me and the God.. So I took time out from the crowd, sat on the staircase and stole a moment with her. While the crowd crowded the hall right in front of the goddess.
I received a long mail from varya.. I replied. A long mail again.
Past few days I was busy with the Navaratri . It happened at my place for the 1st time and will happen next after 35 years. It’s a dynasty thing. So involves a lot of families who share my surname and we will get a chance to bring the goddess again when our branch in the family tree gets a chance to do so.
The goddess looks beautiful.. It’s a silver mask. It’s the most expressive face I have ever seen. But the house was most times too crowded.. I like my prayer to happen in silence. Its between me and the God.. So I took time out from the crowd, sat on the staircase and stole a moment with her. While the crowd crowded the hall right in front of the goddess.
I received a long mail from varya.. I replied. A long mail again.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Three women in a boat
Yesterday and today were important days for me. Yesterday I met Sayalee’s fiancé for the first time and today I coincidently met Varya’s parents.. They said that she has gone to London for next 2 years, things happened too quickly.. I didn’t know.. We were planning to meet, but never got a chance.
These two women have been with me for last 14 years. Long time, isn’t it? Both of them have something newsworthy happening with them at this moment in time. My life right now is going too smooth.. It’s been quite some time something adventurous happened to me. Nevermind.. That’s not the point I am trying to make.
I looked back today. Glanced at all those years we have known each other, the 3 of us. From the time we met for the first time, when I had joined VPM school and these 2 city kids had bullied me. I had hated them then.. Only for a few days or maybe months.. Sayalee the topper kid in class and Varya the girl who was learning karate and was better at it than most of the boys in the class. And I was.. this kid in a new place hoping to be given some room in their gang of friends .. But I wasn’t trying too hard.
I cannot pinpoint that particular moment when we became friends. But, like I have always believed people don’t really change.. we haven’t changed at all. What we were then, we still are very much the same people. Varya still never breaks down in front of us, she never talks about her hurts.. Never.. No one gets to hear that. Sayalee still sobs on the phone. And, I still hold back my tears , even if they keep forming in my eyes again and again.
And at this juncture.. we will have to go through the test of time again. Varya gone for 2 years, without meeting us.. And, sayalee suddenly absolutely busy with her relationship. That won’t affect my relationship with her, I know... Yet, it scares me.
The fact that I couldn’t meet Varya hurt me. I mean she will be gone for the most crucial years of our lives.. She missed meeting Sayalee’s fiancé , would miss Sayalee’s engagement and her wedding too.. And we will miss being a part of her important moments.
There is so much to write.. But, I am too sleepy now.. I will pen it down some other day..
These two women have been with me for last 14 years. Long time, isn’t it? Both of them have something newsworthy happening with them at this moment in time. My life right now is going too smooth.. It’s been quite some time something adventurous happened to me. Nevermind.. That’s not the point I am trying to make.
I looked back today. Glanced at all those years we have known each other, the 3 of us. From the time we met for the first time, when I had joined VPM school and these 2 city kids had bullied me. I had hated them then.. Only for a few days or maybe months.. Sayalee the topper kid in class and Varya the girl who was learning karate and was better at it than most of the boys in the class. And I was.. this kid in a new place hoping to be given some room in their gang of friends .. But I wasn’t trying too hard.
I cannot pinpoint that particular moment when we became friends. But, like I have always believed people don’t really change.. we haven’t changed at all. What we were then, we still are very much the same people. Varya still never breaks down in front of us, she never talks about her hurts.. Never.. No one gets to hear that. Sayalee still sobs on the phone. And, I still hold back my tears , even if they keep forming in my eyes again and again.
And at this juncture.. we will have to go through the test of time again. Varya gone for 2 years, without meeting us.. And, sayalee suddenly absolutely busy with her relationship. That won’t affect my relationship with her, I know... Yet, it scares me.
The fact that I couldn’t meet Varya hurt me. I mean she will be gone for the most crucial years of our lives.. She missed meeting Sayalee’s fiancé , would miss Sayalee’s engagement and her wedding too.. And we will miss being a part of her important moments.
There is so much to write.. But, I am too sleepy now.. I will pen it down some other day..