Heppie Burday!

Within the first hour of my birthday, I had decided in my mind that a birthday spent alone could not and would not amount to much. Afterall, Kuwait being the place it is and with most of my friends and colleagues (even the Kuwaiti ones) being away, how could the customary birthday cheer happen. So with this thought and fairly low expectations, I peacefully went to bed expecting the day to seem just as ordinary when I woke up.

But there is something about a birthday that keeps the day from being ordinary, even if it turns out no different from the day before or the day after. Maybe it is the effect of being remembered by so many. Or maybe it is the expectation of good cheer that the day itself brings. My own favourite explanation includes a body calendar and a once-a-year happy ‘birthday-hormone’. (Yeah, I always did have a thing for the loony.) Whatever the reason, on a birthday morning, it is difficult not to wake up with a smile on the face and a skip in the step.

Birthdays for me have usually been all about the ritual of the day itself: the madness I indulge in or the surprises the day brings. And I usually save the introspection for when the calendar changes. But perhaps with the ritual itself missing in the day this year, I felt compelled to take stock of life and other affairs. And I realized that the passing year had indeed left some lessons in my lap.

Like the fact that that life is too unpredictable and whimsical to be wasted on worrying about the future and wondering how today’s choices might affect tomorrow’s outcomes. Truth is, you will never know. And it’s easy to waste a lifetime basking in the false security of the familiar, while dreaming of what might have been. Or the fact that at some point you have to stop worrying about what others expect of you and start living upto your own expectations, chasing your own dreams, without needing the nod from anyone else. True richness in life comes not from a fat bank account (though it definitely helps) but from the satisfaction of knowing that you live your life on your own terms. I learnt that money can be the motivation for work for only so long, before it all starts to feel meaningless and plastic. And that friends can be found in the most unexpected of places and ways. And most importantly, I realized that at the end of it all, when all else will fade away, it is the friendship, the love, the memories and the experiences that will stay.

And as I realized all this, I resolved that next year, this year, I will do things a little differently. Take more risks. Think and plan less. Have more faith in myself and what I want to do. Take life by the balls. And have more fun while I’m at it!

And so even though, I spent my birthday this year with myself (introspection and all), it turned out absolutely lovely! Different but lovely! Thanks to everyone who called, sent flowers and infected me with the birthday cheer (My favourite has to be one that hoped I would "have a birthday with dates, cakes and handsome arab sheikhs!"). Lots of music, a fair amount of messages and mails, a little bit of work and an evening spent by the sea : The day mirrored everybit the maturity that I feel being 24.

But then I am reminded of the birthday madness I plan to indulge in once I am back in Singapore. And I smile to myself. For the crazy, wild (some might call immature) side of me still rocks on, 24 or older! And I am glad for it!

Currently Reading: The historian- Elizabeth Kostova
Currently Listening: Voice- Pentagram, Flowers in the window- Travis

Lazy friday weekends! =D

Sunshine. Trees. A light breeze.
Ghazals. Bit of jazz. A cup of tea.
Pyjamas. Plaits. A sense of peace.
Lazy friday weekends. Such a rarity!

The comedy is that it's serious.

When you do what I do for a living, life takes on quite a different flavor. Airports become hangout places and airport-staff become ‘buddies’ that you see regularly. The phrase ‘commute to work’ takes on a different meaning and involves boarding passes, immigration checks and X-ray machines. You start referring to your current hotel as ‘home’ and know all the staff on a first name basis (or the fact that they have a 2 month old baby or that they love ‘3 Doors down’). You get so comfortable in planes that you actually have a ‘favourite’ seat and develop a talent for making the mid-flight-mid-sleep toilet trip with your eyes closed. And yes, you get used to flight turbulence and learn to sleep through it like a baby.

And so when I say that I woke up mid-flight due to turbulence and even felt a little scared, take my word that it was indeed more than just a ‘tremble’. And I will admit (sheepishly) that for the first time ever I feared a little for my life.

Now it’s amazing the kind of perspective u can get from something as stupid as flight-turbulence. But there I was, with the plane (seemingly) completely out of control and I had one of those rare moments of clarity, with my whole life flashing before me (not just the past but what I had thought the rest of it to be like). And then suddenly somehow I reached a moment of panic, where I realized that if my time had indeed come, I would be leaving with a huge bag of regrets. I thought of all my plans-grand and otherwise. The world-travel, all the things I wanted to learn, the book I wanted to write, the experiences I wanted to have, my list of ‘100 things to do before I die’, all the weight I wanted to lose, the tattoo I wanted to get- Everything that I had put off for next year, when I would have ‘enough’ money and the time would be ‘right’. And right then, 30,000 ft above the earth, with the plane swinging wildly and a sinking feeling in my stomach, I realized that the money would never be enough and the time never right. Truly realized. And that was my ‘Eureka!’ moment.

Of course, the turbulence soon stopped, I went back to sleep and eventually landed safely. But something did indeed change in that moment. And just like that, I have a spring in my step, a purpose in my eyes, a grin on my face and a realization that my time here is finite and so I'd better make the most of it.

And so I am glad to report- the gyming is happening regularly, the healthy eating has become de-facto, all the travels are seriously being planned for and an inexplicable good cheer has come over me. Oh and the tattoo, happens in December. Talk about life-changing. Who needs ‘Deepak Chopra’ when you’ve got turbulence, right?

Currently listening- The boy is gone- Jason mraz, Unforgiven II- Metallica
Currently reading- Salmon fishing in Yemen- Paul Torday

When you realise...

When you are a kid, your parents are your world. And you think the world of them. They have all the answers, they can make all problems go away and they seem infallible in all regard. Quite like a personal ‘super-man’ looking over you. Bruised knees, bad dreams, tooth extractions and even the horrid chicken pox are no problem for them at all. They give you a kiss and a hug (and some medicine) and magically you’re back on your feet. They have the answers to all your questions, even the really insane ones (like why don’t dogs wear pants? Or why can’t I take the pig home?). And most of all, they seem to love you even though you are naughty- annoying- pesky- noisy- fussy and generally a brat.

And then you grow a little older. You realize that maybe they can’t kiss all your problems away and answer all your questions. You start to think that you know better than them, that their experience doesn’t count for as much as they think. They see you growing up and struggle with your insistence to be independent and ‘adult’. They try to protect you from the big bad world out there, without realizing that they can’t always do that. And in the meantime you mistake the protectiveness for mean-ness and accuse them of ruining your life. You start having fights with them. And you act like every typical adolescent.

And then you grow much older. Maybe even live away from them. Your problems and worries become more ‘adult’ and often have no solution. They still try to make them ‘go away’ and feel frustrated when they can’t. But you appreciate that they try. And you appreciate even more that they are just ‘there’ for you, a phone call away- especially on days when the world doesn’t look so pretty or when you really want to feel loved. They feel proud of the lovely person you have grown into but still find it difficult to think of you as an adult with a mind of your own. And best of all, they always take your side, even if you are in the wrong.

But in all of this time, you never ever think of a day when they won’t be there, when you won’t be able to call them up and hear their voice back. And so it is a very unnerving day when you are reminded of their fallibility, that they are not the “super-man” you always assume them to be, that there might come a time when no phone will help you reach out to them.

And on such a day, all you can do is give thanks for having them in your life and tell them how much you love them.

My gal pal’s mother passed away today. And I am having that ‘very unnerving day’. So here’s telling you mom n dad, all that I usually don’t. Love you!

Currently Listening: Vienna- Billy Joel, Roulette- S.O.A.D.

Currently Reading: Eat, Love, Pray- Elizabeth Gilbert

Latesshht!

You know how it is- When so much seems to be happening around you, you think of a million things to write about and you make mental notes. And then you keep setting aside time to post about them, but you faff around instead because you’re too lazy or too willing to give into any distraction (Like Zee cinema showing another hilarious ancient gem). And then, when you finally say- enough is enough and cajole yourself to sit down with your cup of tea, with just the right music playing (coz well ambience counts for a lot), to write out those thoughts, the dreaded blogger’s block threatens to strike. How ironic!

But hah, am a fighter too! So fighting the blows of the ‘block’ and very valiantly kicking it in the balls, I bring to you the very taaza, the latesssht! (a.k.a snippets from my head that are inane, whacked out and absolutely of no consequence to anyone)

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The Indian 1 Billion Strategy

As a result of a conversation with a French colleague (who btw is convinced that all Chinese n Indians are spies) I am starting to see our race in a new light. And I daresay, I underestimated us all. Coz you see, while everyone thought that we were more tuned to being ruled than being rulers, I say it turned out quite to the contrary. We are conquerors of the world, just that our methods have been a little..er.. unconventional. What the world thought to be the result of a slightly higher-than-normal libido, the kama sutra and the lack of anything else to do, may just be a well thought out strategy. (I’ve even thought up a nice little catchy name for it- copulation for population.)

Look around you! No matter what part of the world you are in you will find yourself surrounded by a tiny little India- Indian people, Indian food, Indian movies and music, even Indian bosses. It’s time to face it- The whole world is going through an Indianization of sorts. So yes, we’ll ‘pass’ on the machine guns and the bomber jets. We’ve got other tricks up our sleeve you see!

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Jai Ho! For globalization

You’ve got to love globalization. Well I know I do. You know what else I love? Haldiram’s nut cracker (it’s the spicy coated peanuts savoury). And thanks to globalization it seems to be available everywhere. Battling my way through the lanes of Mustafa in Singapore (yes, battling), what do I find? Nut cracker. Walking through the busy and colorful Jonker walk in Malacca (Malaysia), what do I spy a hawker selling? Nut Cracker. And now, here in Kuwait as I push my trolley through the aisles of the local supermarket, what do I come upon? Take a wild guess! It truly is Nutcracker (Haldiram) domination all around and I have globalization to thank for it.

Infact my overactive imaginations sees a situation like this-

Slightly over enthusiastic explorer: (bursting upon a never-found tribal clan in the jungles of the amazon) I bring you food, clean water, fire : I bring you civilization

Tribal guy: (covered in white ash, painted in fancy colors, digging into a bright packet of Nut crackers) No thank you, we’ve got our packet of Nutcrakers. Yes we are quite happy! Nice knowing you. good bye!

So yeah well I exaggerate. And yes I am a crazy fan of the said savory. But it’s possible. Noe?

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Inshallah

I love the word! And I haven’t found anything quite like it in English or Hindi. So succinct, so convenient. And it works with everything. It’s perfect to acquit yourself of all responsibility. And it's perfect for a serial procrastinator like me. Will I finish this by tomorrow? Inshallah! Will I be coming home on time? Inshallah! Will I be hauling my ass out of bed and trudging my way to work tomorrow? Inshallah. It’s brilliant.

Coz tomorrow when I don’t finish the work, and I don’t come home on time and I don’t get my ass to work, I simply have him to blame. Coz he didn’t will it so! See what I mean?

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That's it for now dahlings! But I'll be back to post something soon. Inshallah!

Currently Listening: I will possess your heart- Death cab for cutie, Say it- Blue October

Currently Reading: Eat, Love, Pray- Elizabeth Gilbert

Goodbye...

I first saw him over at someone's house at a dinner party. I remember the first thing I noticed about him was his voice, his style. He was singing a song. And I found myself singing along with the simple lyrics. It's what they call, love at first hear. I went to sleep that night with a tune on my lips and a smile on my face.

People told me he was a bit odd. And maybe they were right. He did look different from anyone else I had seen- With his long wavy hair tied loosely at the back, his big buttoned flashy jackets and his thin frame. But what did I care. I loved the way he sang. I loved what he sang. And most of all, I loved the way my feet would start tapping away almost involuntarily each time I heard him 'do his thing'.

A few days later, I spotted his picture in the local news papers. I remember getting a pair of scissors and very carefully cutting it out. I decided that I had been sufficiently impressed to openly profess my liking. And so up it went, the grainy black-and-white newpaper cut-out picture, on my cupboard. I didn't realise then what this small action would mean for me. Everyone around started ridiculing me, laughing at me with an indulgent smile. A wink here, a nudge there. But again, what did I care.

One of the 'nudgers', seeing the grainy newspaper cut-out, decided that I had to have a better picture to focus my adulation on. And that's how I got my first (and only) proper picture of him. And a very handsome picture too-Tousled up hair in that trademark ponytail, black pants, and a tucked-in white shirt, open just enough to show a peek of smooth chest. I put it up on the wall right across from my bed. And soon enough I started doing silly girlie things like wishing him (well the picture really) 'good night' everyday. But through all of this, it was still his singing that held sway over me. Each time I heard him, I would sing along, even memorize the words he sang and copy his moves.

And then, slowly, other things started occuying my mind, other people. And he got relegated to the back. And over time, even the picture got taken down. I moved on. Years passed. I occasionally heard snippets of his songs and smiled to myself, even tapped my feet. But I had changed. My tastes had changed. I liked others now. I heard less and less about him. Maybe I didn't care.

That is, until a few days back, when I read about his death in the news. And the memories came back. I played some of his songs and sang along to them (at the top of my voice)- My own little tribute to how brilliant he had been. And I realised then, that even though so much of time had passed since I was that 9 year old girl with his poster on the wall and a much obvious crush, I will miss him.I give thanks for the music he left behind and I really really hope that he is in a world much better than ours. Goodbye Michael.

Currently listening: Roulette- System of a down, Kuch Khaas- Fashion
Currently Reading- Myth=Mithya- Dr. Devdutt Patnaik

80's Bollywood Hilarity!

Little did I know when I woke up today that my morning would be so entertaining. Flipping through the TV channels here in Kuwait, I came across an arabic version of Zee cinema that had all the writing and commentary in arabic but had bollywood movies playing. Turns out, the channel was showing the 1985 Amitabh starrer "Mard". And while in it's time, it may have made sense (though I find it difficult to imagine how), for me it was funnier than the funniest movie bollywood has ever come out with. The movie is full of macabre co-incidences, lost families and highly comical villians.

In true typical fashion of 80s bollywood movies, the film involves a poor but gallant and honest horse-cart rider living in a village settlement right outside a palatial colonial house (which is meant to be british looking but strangely has roman colums and domes). The house, as it turns out, is occupied by scruplous indians (the villains of the movie) who have sold themselves to the service of the british and are cruel and exploitative. They say dialogues like "Indians are the cockroaches in the dirty sewers", dress in wierdly gladiator type clothes and walk around with hunters, that they liberally use on the poor indian labourers. No surprises then that the horse cart driver who's name is raju, is the he-man of the movie and for some stange reason calls himself "Mard" (as if to remind himself constantly of which side he bats for). He regularly has face-offs with the villains in the platial house and also manages to win the heart of the villain's daughter. As the movie progresses we find, that the villains have also imprisoned the former-king of the land (Dara Singh) and force him day and night to push the grinidng wheel of a wheat mill, without food and water. Through a twist in the movie, raju finds out that his parents are not really his parents and he was picked up from an orphanage.

Then, in probably the wierdest leap of logic in the movie (and that is saying a lot given how illogical the movie anyways is), raju puts together a letter (asking his real birth-mother to meet him at the durga temple) with some other meaningful artifacts in a metal pot covered with cloth and sets it afloat on the ganges river with a plea to "Ganaga Ma" to take it to his mother, whoever and wherever she may be. Surprise Surprise, the metal pot not only reaches his real-mother (who is in the villians' prison camp and till this point has been dumb) but she also manages to escape out in time to go meet him in the durga temple, be happily re-united with her son and get the gift of speech. Praise be to the goddess! Soon knowing that his father (yes he turns out to be the king's son) has been imprisoned by the villians and that he is actually royalty, he goes to the villian camp astride on his faithful steed and proceeds to annihilate the villians and free the innocent indians. The movie ends happily with raju going to marry the villian's daughter seated atop dara singh's broad shoulders (don't ask).

By the time the credits in the movie started rolling, my sides were aching from all the laughing I had been doing! Inspired of course by the wierd clothes in the movie (togas, wierd cut-off clothes adorned with chains and spikes), the hackneyed cliched dialogues ("Mein tera khoon pee jaoonga"), the illogically devout belief in gods and godesses (with Raju singing a full-on devotional song, temple bells clanging and women waving oil lamps) and the archaic torture methods (through out the movie one of the villains kept drawing out labourer-indian blood and storing it in bottles for british soldiers, go figure!).

But the movie got me thinking about the mind-set of the people who watched and enjoyed the movie in 1985. And more importantly how much things have changed since then. The religious fervor, the kind of beliefs in the society, the scorn of everything foreign and british, the expectations from women, and the singularly good character of the hero without any shades of grey. It has been a long journey from 'Mard' to 'Dil Chahta hai'! And I give thanks for every bit of that change.

But now the channel informs me I am up for even more hilarity. They are showing "Roti, Kapda Aur Makan" next. What fun!!

Currently Listening: Like a stone- Audioslave, Beggin- Madcon
Currently Reading: Q&A- Vikas Swaroop

PS- On another note, a prince and future-king named 'Raju'? Not that I am generalizing (and with apologies to all rajus around the world), but the seems more be-fitting of a Tea boy than a king. No?

Where have all the lemons gone?

I've been away a really long time. I almost thought I wouldn't be back here, that I would just slip through the cracks in the blogsphere and into the recesses of the mind. No good bye, no final post, just a nice and clean disappearing act. But here I am now, back to stringing words together, giving life to thoughts and clacking away on a keyboard. I guess it's true what they say- 'once a blogger-always a blogger!' (well ok, they don't really say that. I just made it up. But it does go so well, doesn't it?)

So I thought I wouldn't blog again and here I am back to the old habit. Big surprise!But there is no way I am going to re-count what I have been upto in the time I've been gone. I've been good, having fun and that's all that matters. Life's taken wierd turns and by some stroke of fate, I find myself these days living in Kuwait and occasionally visiting Singapore (or atleast it seems so). Life's different and so not according to what I had planned for it. But then when is it fun if everything goes according to plan? And strangely, even with all the gales of change blowing, every now and then everything makes sense. Maybe just for a second. But it's enough to get me to put my lemon squeezer down and wonder- has life gotten tired of handing me lemons? And I find myself smiling and saying- bring it on life, keep it coming!Let's make some Nimbupaani!

PS- Yes, I am in a wierd mood right now. Yes, I will be posting more regularly now. And yes, in the usual flair of Nimbupaani and not this philosophical mumbo-jumbo. So rest easy and hang around, a'ight?

Currently Listening- Daniel- Lior, Camisa Negra- Juanes, Fade to black- Metallica
Currently Reading- Bad Heir Day- Wendy Holden (It's what a chick-flick would be like if it were a book- only worse. Much worse. So now I'm in a philosophical AND bimbotic mood! Oh the conflict of it all! Go figure!)

'Happy' Women's Day?

There's nothing happy about the ‘International women's day’. Not this one and not any other. But definitely, not this one.

First there is the question around the dubious need for a specific day to celebrate 'women'. Excuse me, but last I checked, wasn't that something the world should be doing anyways, every day, every moment- Without making any pomp and show about it and definitely without feeling like it deserves a pat on the back. By having a specific day for something that should be the norm, the world is only spotlighting its ineptitude in giving to women all that they deserve. And yet the world celebrates this day. It's almost ironical.

And then of course there is the point, that whatever the original noble intentions, the day no longer means what it was meant to mean. As the very wise wikipedia informs me, International Women's Day was declared in 1910 by the German socialist leader Clara Zetkin as a day of solidarity to mark the fight of women for equal rights and was officially recognized by the United Nations in 1975. But now, year after year, it's been contorted into something politicians can use to get face time and brands can use to tout their products. And not just in India. A club in singapore was advertising it's TGIW (Thank god I'm a Woman) night on Women's day, complete with free Mary Janes and GalPal discounts! The whole world is going down that route. I ask, what's the point? It's almost patronizing of the world to make such a huge superficial hue and cry about the day, only to promptly go back to the normal (unfair) order of things right after.

And what exactly do we have to celebrate this year? The same bag of problems hang around our neck: Rape, Female child mortality, child marriage, sexual harassment, violence against women, gender bias. And just in case we thought we didn’t have enough to deal with in this century, we have the Sri Ram Sene. (Incase anyone needs reminding about who they are and what they did at Mangalore earlier this year, read this). Women in India are still not free, neither in the rural nor the urban settings. Just that the shackles are different. But at its very root the fight is much for the same thing; and that is free-will. Be it the free-will to choose their life partner, to not have to cover their faces, to go wherever they want or even the ability to sit in a pub and drink without the fear of being beaten up. It’s not wrong for society to frown on certain things. While many years ago the point of discord might have been whether to let women out of the house and into the workforce, today the issue is about whether to let them into clubs and pubs and the likes. But at the heart of the matter lies the fact that frowned or not, it’s all a matter of the woman’s free will. And it is really no one’s business to tell a woman what she can or can’t do. Sadly we live in a society that burdens its women with the duty of upholding the morality of our culture while the men gallivant around chasing skirts and being men; A society that continues to ignore women as independent people with their own wants and wishes and a right to live their life as they please.

And all this is not just on a macro level; it trickles down to a personal level too, though the issues may be different or seemingly less significant. I am an independent woman, who speaks her mind, does what she wants, wears whatever catches her fancy and drinks whatever quenches her thirst. But the single reason I am able to do all that is 'cause I live outside India. And I still get badgered and pressured on how a certain age should equate to a certain marital status and how I can’t do so many things simply cause I am a girl and it’s not acceptable or safe. And idiots like the Sri Ram Sene only give this more mileage.

And so I ask, really, what’s so happy about the ‘International Women’s day’?

Everything that I wish I wasn't saying

There are times when there are a million things in your head and you need to express them all, but you have no idea how. And then, just like that, along comes a song that says it all. Just the way you would. Even Better.

This is that song: For the things that I need to say to you, but I wish I wasn't. I have no idea if you will come by here and see this. But I hope you do.

25 Random Facts About Yours Truly!

Yup I am joining the bandwagon. And doing the 25 list thingie! And that too, by my own volition. (I can see some of you shaking your head with a look that says 'I always knew this girl was mad') . Why subject myself to this, you ask? Well simply coz this is sort of like a Meme and being a meme-virgin (Batting eyelids, blushing face) I am a little excited about it. Maybe it's also coz I am a slighly-narcissistic blogger and I do love talking about myself. More than anything, it's because I have a feeling that I am going to surprise myself. So bear with me and read on please. Pretty please?

1. I am the quintessential jack of all trades. I can play 7 instruments- Guitar, Harmonica, Tabla, Harmonium, Tanpura, Drums and Bongo. But none with any spectacular degree of proficiency. I can speak 6 languages- Hindi, English, Bengali, Punjabi, Gujarati & Italian. But only two of those with a high degree of proficiency. I have dabbled in Kathak, Salsa and Jive, but am an expert in none of those. You get the Picture, don't you?
2. Something that I get from my mom is a penchant for making lists and plans. Things to do lists, timetables and longterm timelines: I specialise in Weight-loss plans and personal finances management plans. What I dont specialise in, sadly, is following any of the stuff that I plan. Half a talent is such a waste!
3. I love the sight of painted pretty nails. Days when I get my nails done, I can't stop waving them around like a prima donna. I am told it can get pretty irritating for everyone else.
4. I have had milk straight out of a cow, with the whole awkward-position-head-bent-and-squirt-aimed-at-my-mouth. The milk tasted good, the experience was wierd and the fact is something I am secretly proud of. Well, not so so secretly anymore, but still proud.
5. I am a feminist of sorts. Not your bra-burning-morcha-holding types. But the type who can tell when things are unfair and will do something about it. I refuse to settle for a half-life simply because I am of the female species. And I get frustrated with people who expect me to.
6. I love it when the wind blows through my hair and flicks strands of my hair on my face. It's the single thing that can make me feel pretty, no matter any amount of zits, blackheads or any other other gunk that might be vacationing on my face.
7. I get very amazed and sometimes frustrated with people who refuse to live their life king size and in the moment. It's one life people. Just one. All the more reason to live it up!!
8. There's nothing more comforting than an over-used and over-washed t-shirt. I have saved plenty from annihilation at the hands of my mom and will continue to do so till my very last breath. Much to her frustration.
9. I dream of living a life where the money is enough and the lifestyle lets me be spontaneous and impulsive. I am told that's a freelancer's life. Methinks a rich heiress' life works much better.
10. I am a praise-junkie. I thrive on the simple concept of work and reward. Consequently, I expect to be praised even for doing my job satisfactorily. It's a bad habit, I know.
11. While growing up, there is nothing I wanted more than a Dog. And now that am all grown up, there's nothing I value and want more than my freedom and independence. Between the two, my parents had a much easier time dealing with my wish for a dog!
12. When I was 5, I announced to the family that I was leaving home (following a fight) and promptly walked out. It lasted all of 10 mins, before dad caught up with me and carried me back. I waited 12 years before I tried that stunt again. And this time the family came to drop me all the way!
13. I think the single most important thing about life is all the people you meet and especially the ones that you love. And it me amazes how rich my life has been in that regard so far.
14. Nothing petrifies me more than labor pain!
15. I was a vegetarian for 12 years of my life. I decided on it when I was 8 (after a very revealing trip to the butcher's) and stuck to it all the way till I came to Singapore. Now, I eat 'Everything'.
16. There are some songs that always make me smile, no matter what my mood. 'Kiss me' by six pence none the richer is one of them. 'Free falling' by Tom petty is another.
17. There are days when I worry that my time will run out before I can do all that I want to do. That I might be wasting my time on mundane things like holding a job, buying a house etc. There are other days when my worries don't run so deep. On those days I mostly obssess about my weight, my hair, my face. Oh and world peace. Definitely world peace!
18. I love weddings. I love dancing on the streets at weddings. I love the dolling up that happens at weddings. The songs, the colors, the ceremonies, the people, the food. I simply love being a part of weddings, as long as (and here's the catch) it's not mine.
19. The single experience that I most want to have with all of my heart is to live by myself in a place of my own in Bombay. I also know that it is the one thing I will never have.
20. During moments of plain evil mixed with pure genius, I have thought of naming my future children- Katori Devi and Hukumchand, if they don't behave themselves (Read as: If they cry too much and wake me up in the middle of the night). Thankfully these moments almost always pass.
21. I am a complete romantic and mush-pot at heart. I drool at the idea of surprises, offbeat-bent-knee-proposals, thoughtful gifts out of the blue, beachside weddings. And yet I think flowers and chocolates are over-rated. And cliched too!
22. I love food and I have very eclectic and specific cravings. Usually these revolve around (And am sure you haven't heard of some of these)- Funflips, Bonny mix, Nutties, Fatafat, Haldiram's Nutcrackers, Panipuri, Tibbs Frankie, Raju Chinese, Pav Bhaji, China-Valley-Sweet-Corn-Chicken-Soup, Bombay Sandwich. The list goes on. And on.
23. I can lose myself entirely in a book or a movie. And when I say entirely, I mean that it would take a hurricane (or even a bowl-ful of water thrown at me, as has worked in the past) to get me to come back to the now. Nothing milder would work. It's like my brain switches tracks and puts on blinkers.
24. I was in love with Michael Jackson when I was 11. I had a poster of him on my wall, that I would wish good night to, before going to bed. I consider this the single most embarassing thing I have ever done! Thankfully, now that place has been usurped by the very-yum-and-edible Kunal kapoor. And even more thankfully, without the ritualistic 'good-nights'!
25. Bombay, Delhi, Bangkok are my favourite cities in the world. I think New york has the potential to be added to that list, even though I haven't been there yet. I really really hope to some day soon.

I could fill another 20 more points on this list easily. But then it is supposed to be only 25 points, no?

Beemaari...

I think I am suffering from 'blogger's block'.

There I said it aloud. They say admitting to a problem is the first step to curing it and I sure do hope they say right. Coz I can't get myself to write anything- good or bad and I am getting tired of it. It is definitely not for the lack of trying. And if the number of half-written post drafts are anything to go by, then it isn't for the lack of things to write about either.

Now if only someone could tell me what's wrong. Mr. Blog-Doctor anywhere?

The cat has some wise words

"Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"
"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to," said the Cat.
"I don’t much care where--" said Alice.
"Then it doesn’t matter which way you go," said the Cat.
"--so long as I get SOMEWHERE," Alice added as an explanation.
"Oh, you’re sure to do that," said the Cat, "if you only walk long enough."
(From Alice's Adventures in Wonderland)

I love that book. And I love how it makes the most poignant of points in the most unassuming and usually-crazy ways.

We're listening to the winds of change

I've been thinking a lot about 'change' lately. About the things I want to change. About me, in my life, around me. And mostly it's a feeling of disorientation. A mixture of being fascinated, excited awed and petrified. Yeah, that's right. Change confuses me and how. I spend too much time evaluating scenarios. Contemplating change. Thinking about the different places I could land up in. And no matter how good an idea it seems, there's always that nagging worry that change might just make things worse. Fuck a good (or even an ok) thing up.

But it wasn't always like this. I can remember a time not too long back when change was something exciting and something I didn't think too much about. Moving to another city? Sure, new friends, new places. Changing schools? Yeah new quirky teachers. Moving out of home? Bring it on! Think of all the trouble I can get into.

It's one of those things that has come with growing older. Right up there with worrying about money, the opposite sex and PMS. I simply notice change more than I used to. And I feel wary of it. Not because I find the unknown any less exciting, but simply because I am painfully aware that the known is valuable too. I'm sure it also has a lot to do with me taking myself more seriously now than I did as a kid (And stupidly so). With thinking, that for some reason the choices I make right now are somehow more life-changing than the choices I made as a kid (Play now or Homework now?)

Change is hard. And I wish it wasn't so. Coz there is so much that I want to, I need to change. For starters, I wish I could go back to India. It's where my heart is. It's the place that comes closest to feeling like home. And I'm running out of reasons for staying away from it. I know, after a soft-cushioned Singapore life, India will be a different ball game- The traffic, the lack of safety, the lack of convenience. But everyone else manages? And I am made of the stuff everyone there is made of, right? Then of course there is the family factor. I miss having my parents close and I have been a long time away.

But What I would be giving up? Loads! Much as I crib about it, Singapore has been home for the last 5 years. This is the place where I found myself, grew into the person I am today. And I feel comfortable here- In the life I have for myself, the people, the places. More the people than anything else. But this is the city I feel I know the best and at times, it feels like the city knows me too. But besides that, this is the place where I feel truly free. I am answerable to no one. No one cares about where and when I am going or coming and who I am meeting or what I am doing. And somehow that is liberating. This is the city where I have my space. My privacy. Where I am the master of my own life and I make all my own decisions. Going back to India, could (would) mean giving up on all of this, simply because it would mean a move back home, to living with parents. And then it's never the same. Questions always get asked (Where? When? What? Who?), Restrictions always get placed (Don't come home late, Don't go there) and decisions eventually get made (for you). Gradually there will be a loss of control, till I won't be able to call my life my own. Living in Singapore, I have become a fiercely independent person who likes spending time with herself and making her own decisions. And I cannot imagine a life where I wouldn't be able to do all that.

See what I mean? Change is hard!

Sixty Three...

... sheets of used and balled up tissue paper,
52... loud-blow-your-brains-out-sneezes
44... spoonfulls of wasted food coz the medicines make everything taste like saw-dust
31... hours of fitful and snore-punctuated sleep
15... pissin-off-there-but-not-there-almost-sneezes
5... concerned but slightly germ-wary friends
2... leaky yet totally blocked, very rubbed and red nostrils
1... big fat pain-in-the-ass common cold attack!

So that's about my weekend. How was yours?

Motivation is what gets you started, Habit is what keeps you going

...So says my new shiny golden 'Fitness First' membership card. Yes, I went and re-joined the gym today and I am already feeling smug about doing something to keep one of my resolutions. It's only a tiny something, but hey, as a cheesy book had once told me, great journeys begin with a small step. (*Gloat Gloat*)

9 Resolutions for 09

I am a sucker for resolutions. And pretty much any event works. So I've done New year resolutions, I've made Birthday resolutions, I've even done April Fool's day resolutions (Don't ask!). Of course being able to make resolutions does not automatically translate into being actually able to keep them. That bit, that keeing-resolutions-bit, is the one I am notoriously bad at. But does that stop me from whipping out my pen and paper and making a list of resolutions for 2009? No Sire! Nor does it stop me from trying to keep the resolutions. So for your benefit here's the list-

1. Do one new thing every week (And I intend to report this every week, so keep 'em ideas coming on things I can do)
2. Lose 10 kgs and keep it that way (this one's featured on every NY- Resolutions list since 1997)
3. Write more and better and get published (any help, peeps out there?)
4. Buy a DSLR and improve my photography and Photoshop skills
5. Learn a language (the currrent favourites are French, Arabic or Mandarin- Any votes?)
6. Get a Singapore driving license
7. Travel to 5 new destinations in the year
8. Do atleast 20 things from my '100 things to do before I die' list
9. Manage my finances better and invest wisely (anyone who knows me, knows how bad I am with money)

Damn, this list will need all the luck and determination I can muster up. Jeez!

Gotta ask yourself the question, Where are you now?

I've been trying to psych myself into feeling something for the New Year, but between fluctuating work, visiting friends and mindless revelry, it hasn't worked. I don't feel anything yet for the New Year. It's just the changing of the date, a flipping of a number, something to rally some change around. Maybe that's why I haven't been able to write the customary 'new year post' (and it's not for the lack of trying). I guess when life itself becomes more eventful, these other events start to mean much less.

But 2008, that's a whole different pot of emotions. I feel heap loads about it. Probably the best year so far! Unexpected, very surprising and totally awesome. And here’s why!

• We shall call 2008 the Travel year of my life (and I hope 2009 outdoes it and steals the record). I globe trotted quite a bit and very unexpectedly so. First to Delhi for Uncleji's wedding in February. Then Bombay, Goa, Durham, Newcastle and London, all in the short stretch of time between leaving my job and joining the new one. The new job brought even more travel with it-Bangkok and KL for projects, Paris for training and Chiang Mai for a team building trip. And finally rounded up the year with a nice little trip to Melaka, Kl and Genting (after months and months of talking about it). Of course, given the travel glutton I am, I still ended the year feeling that there was so much more I hadn’t seen and done.

• 2008 was also the year I started blogging more regularly. And while initially it started off as a medium to channel the love-sickness I felt for Delhi and my life there, it slowly grew to become almost a reflection of me. I wrote about stuff I cared about (very often inane and inconsequential) without worrying if it was interesting enough to get any sort of readership. I was writing for myself and I was thoroughly enjoying it. And so it was even more surprising then when I found people reading my blog, relating to me and coming along willingly for the ride. (And I do say willingly, coz in the early days I did threaten a couple of people to read my blog. And NO, I am not proud of it!). And that’s when it came out with a vengeance. Knowing that there were people who read what u wrote, who cared about what u wrote, fueled me to write more or at least better. And it felt good. Simply to know that someone shared the same feelings, similar thoughts and appreciated it all. And so I’ll admit it, I do write for the readers (and I write for myself, coz the two don’t have to be contrary). So if you are reading this right now and have been a visitor here, then thank you! You are one of the reasons I had a fabulous 2008 and I hope you’ll hang around for the 2009 show. (And leave comments while you are at it, ok? ok! )

• 2008 was also the year I met a lot of new people, most of whom I really liked and a number of whom I got close to. Right at the top of the list are the two crazy people I started living with sometime in June (well technically they were not new people at the time given I had known them even last year but in all fairness it had been a very Hi-Bye thing then) Totally angelic and bitchy at the same time, Shoe-girl and Miss London have become ‘my gals’, the girlfriends I can count on to be game for anything under the sun, to come along for any stupid impractical adventure I think up or just simply to be there for me. And it has been a crazy and wonderful circus ride with them! (Thanks girls!) Some of the others on the list are fellow bloggers. APSD has to be mentioned at this point. He came over (more like invited himself shhhh!) one Sunday for a rajma-rice dinner and stayed on for post dinner conversation filled with Saif Ali Khan impressions and controversial topics. He even washed his own dishes! (very impressive). Every bit as quirky as his blog made him out to be (what with his geeky glasses and funky socks), he’s gotten to be someone I consider a good friend and go to for some worldly advice (Career advice- he’s brilliant at it!). Another such name in the list is Blackfayth. Though usually a resident of Mumbai, he called Singapore ‘home’ for all of December and a bit of January, during which we haunted all the live-music joints, tried all the food that Singapore is known for (I tried to persuade him to eat Durian, but he didn’t bite!), and even got him to pick up some Singlish (no lah, cannot lah, oso can!). A very charming and sweet guy, he has the most brilliant sense of humor I have seen in a while and needless to say, not a single moment with him is boring. (Women out there- Trust me, he’s a catch!). There are lots of others on the list, all of whom I won’t mention. But needless to say that the year wouldn’t have been the same without any of them, good or bad.

That's not to say a lot of shit didn't happen in the year. I had more ups and downs than ever before, felt depressed probably for the first time ever, met more jerks than I would have cared to, had slumps and highs in love, life and work. But in hindsight, you tend to only remember the good bits. So let’s call it a fabulous year and stick to that, aight?

And what do we think we have in store for 2009? I hope pretty wild things. I have some pretty big (some might call foolhardy) plans for this coming year and I just hope I have the ‘balls’ to see ‘em through. But no matter, plans or no plans, this year I’ll continue to laugh as loud, love as hard, dance as wild and live as large. Maybe even more than usual. So hang in there for the ride, coz things are going to get interesting. I promise!

Currently Listening: Broken Strings- James Morisson, Sober- Pink

PS- Given that last year, I wrote the customary ‘looking back at old year’ post all the way in June, I say we are doing fine this time round, no?