Eyes on the year ahead

Today, I watched 'The Motorcycle Diaries'- 2 medical students, one 23 year old, and another 29, decide to travel across Latin America on their rickety motorcycle, for adventure. Their journey brings them closer to Life, and its grim realities that were hidden from them in their cocoon of privileged existence.

I liked their idea of such a travel. I hope for a similar transformation too, in the coming one year- my year of Adventure.

I am aware of how remote and sequestered an existence I am leading right now, just busy with the task of living a life of hedonism and self-indulgence. I have no knowledge, no opinion about most of what goes on.

There have always been some people around me whose encyclopedic knowledge wowed me. The first and the most profound influence has been Papa. Since childhood, I now realize, I have subconsciously modelled myself on him- his love for books, for newspapers, for libraries, for treks, for our culture, language, for intelligence- I think I've picked these traits up in my quest to be his perfect daughter. But, one thing that he has, and I don't, is the ability to discuss knowledgeably on a vast range of topics. I just sit mum and listen most of the times. He remembers the facts, as I have discovered so many people do, but, and that is a crippling handicap, I don't.

I don't remember facts. Most of the times, I will recall vaguely, "Yes, I had read something about that....something like this...." and so on, and what I produce from memory is an oversimplified version of the actual story, and it makes me feel 'dumb'.

The day before yesterday, I was reading a collection of Arundhati Roy's interviews. I did not like her sharp, high-pitched voice that I could almost hear shouting through the pages, but she had a voice. A powerful voice that made you hear it. The confidence in her words, in her thoughts, reminded me of Ayn Rand's 'The Fountainhead.' For the duration of my reading, she too had had me under her sway.

It is this confident voice that I lack. I like to see myself as a 'thinking individual', perhaps again, because Papa is one. But right now, I don't deserve that description. I am a very ordinary girl, who doesn't know most of what goes around her.

I hope to change that.

The Real Challenge Is Now

It is easier to fight for principles than to live up to them. Alfred
Adler

I have taken my decision- I have set rolling the process of resignation from Infosys.

Why did I need to do it?

Many people have not understood.

There have been some who have responded with "Aha!" They were proud of me, they said, proud for the courage I had shown.

Courage? I am not sure if that word is applicable here.

I did not take this decision thinking it was 'bold' or 'courageous' or whatever. I am not even sure if it is right. I did it, simply because I had to. The restlessness I felt inside was not letting me live.

That said, the drama is over now. The decision is taken. The family has been told, and they have nodded in support. The company has been informed and there is no turning back now.

I am in Bangalore for six more weeks. I expect to be relieved on Jul 31. I have no work in hand in the office, and in general, I've told myself that these two months- June and July- ought to be my model months. I ought to live them with the habits I hope for the year ahead- My Great Year Of Experimentation. Because simply, if I cannot do it now, I cannot do it then.

This is a very foreign concept that I am implementing in my life- to live an year of Bohemian existence, totally after your dreams, trying to 'figure out' what you want to do with yourself and with your life.

That's why so many people have not understood the decision. "Can you not figure out while keeping your job?" they've said.

I have not been able to. The restlessness did not leave me these ten months.

So, then, that's what made me take the big hop. An irrational restlessness, that I cannot quite explain to anyone else, and that I cannot say for sure I will not face again.

Like for instance, I faced it yesterday.

After many days.

Yesterday, Sullenness revisited me. I kept a tight face the whole day, not talking to or indulging my friends, and just staring at my computer screen resolutely, trying to work on the story that was my target for the day, and yet not quite working on it, and instead spending that time chatting on the communicator, or reading emails or stories or online books- doing anything to escape the act of writing. After the lunch, I walked to the bus stop, with a beating heart, weighed down by the guilt, knowing that it was writing that I was trying to escape, but telling myself that I wanted to read 'Arranged Marriage' by Chitra Divakaruni because I wanted to give myself a model worth aspiring- giving myself all sorts of justifications for what I knew was a timid act of running away.

I almost reached the bus stop, and that is when I knew that I would not be able to look myself in the eye if I went further. If I cannot do it now, I cannot do it ever.

I turned back, back to the office.

I was on my seat again.

I still did not write. I still wasted time reading newspapers, and then, surfing the websites.

It was publishers that I searched for. I wanted to be sure that my latest idea, the one that I am working hard for these days, was marketable.

I spent nearly hours on the task.

I almost submitted a book proposal to a publisher.

But wisely, better sense prevailed.

My idea was just nascent yet. It would be sensible to work on it further, to let it develop itself over the next two months, so that I had a better, firmer product to promote.

I came back to the room with a gnawing emptiness. I had done nothing productive in the whole day.

Well, it's not that I had done nothing. I had started the story I intended to work on yesterday.

Only, I did not finish it.

Like, the many many stories that I have started, but not finished.

This may be attributed to the restlessness in me.

But I know the truth. It's Anxiety.

Anxiety that I may be mistaken after all.

That the story I am writing may not be good, or of any interest or value to anyone.

That I may be deluding myself.

I've discovered that I am scared to push my boundaries, and go beyond. Maybe, it's the fear of the unknown. I fear that I will fail.

That is why, while jogging, I do not regularly upgrade my targets. The moment I start puffing, or longing for air, I slow down. I have never experienced the 'second wind.' Except perhaps during the Sunfeast 10 km Run.

When I am writing, I do not experiment much. I do not go beyond the conventional. And, my biggest problem, the anxiety about 'greatness' does not go away. I do not just write; I write to be 'great'; I write to write a 'great story.' And this ambition makes writing difficult. Ridden with Anxiety. Impossible almost.

I understand that the confidence in my own style will come if I survive through all these anxieties and self-doubts.

Earlier, there was always a 'genuine' reason (to be honest, they were all just excuses) to give to myself for not writing just then.

For the past few months, one of the main reasons I had been feeling so restless was the thought that it had now been too much time since I had been just talking, dreaming, while actually I had done not much.

Now is the time to do.

I have left everything else, to just write.

Till now was the easier part. It just meant doing what I had long romanticized. Now, I will have to live up to what I have done. Ahead lies the challenge.

The 10 km run

I ran the Sunfeast 10 km run today. My timing was 64 min, my best so far. What made me feel good was that I ran for 8 out of the 10 km.

But, I also realized today, that I have a long way to go before I can run well in the Half-Marathon in Sep. Walk-run-walk-run is no charm. What gives a sense of achievement, and indeed what is difficult, is to run the whole hog.

Shunning the cloak of Intellectualism

As I was surfing the net today, with a story idea developing in my mind, I was struck by a realization- my writing style is undergoing a change!

Earlier, I used to write stories told in a serious, almost impersonal voice. Stories that I thought the great writers would have written.

But now, I am beginning to accept the fact that I myself do not read those stories with relish. I read those stories in parts, like a task that must be done, but that is not particularly interesting.

The stories that I've enjoyed the most have had more substance than style to them. In fact, that is the greatness of their style- that the reader cannot see it at all! The reader just reads the story, just goes with the flow, and is unable to stop till the story is finished, and when it does finish, he leaves it with a satisfied smile of having read something whole.

That then is the kind of stories I want to write.

The story that always comes in my mind is 'The Gift Of Magi.'

It's a story that has stayed with me years after I read it, and that I always remember fondly.

That was because it was a real story- it had something to say. It was not merely a medium to express philosophies or thoughts.

I now want to write stories that I will enjoy reading, not stories that appear intellectual.

Tanha

Dekhiye to lagta hai,
Zindagi ki raahon mein,
Ek bheed chalti hai...

Sochiye to lagta hai..
Bheed mein hain sab tanha.

Jitne bhi yeh rishte hain,
Kaanch ke khilone hain,
Pal mein toot sakte hain..

Ek pal mein ho jaaye...
Koi jaane kab tanha.

Dekhiye to lagta hai,
Jaise yeh jo duniya hai,
Kitni rangeen mehfil hai...

Sochiye to lagta hai...
Kitna gam hai duniya mein,
Kitna zakhmi har dil hai..

Woh jo muskuraate the,
Jo kisi ko khwaabon mein,
Apne pass paate the..

Unki neend tooti hai..
Aur hain woh ab tanha.

Javed Akhtar

Purani Jeans

It was just so sweet watching this video just now. Well, I'm going to relive all my best friendships in the coming days.

These are the days of meeting old friends!

The Runner and the Biker Gal!

Now that I am running, and know that I'll be able to complete the Half Marathon in September, I am feeling grand!

Yesterday, I bought cargoes and a capri. I've always found a capri c-o-o-l and really sporty, and yesterday when I bought one for myself, it was with pride! I was not only gonna look sporty in them. I AM sporty all right! :)

Since a few days, I've had another idea. Once I'm back from my trip to home, I'm going to buy myself a cycle, and then, that's going to be my main mode of transport in Bangalore- not the buses, not the auto- but my cycle will take me everywhere. And I'll make sure it's a s-m-a-r-t cycle!

Yeh, the fancy has me all fired up! :)

Babal tere da dil kare dheeye meriye ni

Listen to it here

Babal tere da dil kare dheeye meriye ni
Doli tenu kadde naa bithawaan
Sada rawein gudiyaan patole ni tu khedadi
Chuk chuk godi ch khidaawaan

Rabb kare hor na tu vadhe sukhaan ladiye
Hoyin na jawaan kade bhul ke
Tere budhhe baap kolon torya ni jaana tenu
Roya vi ni jaana maithon khul ke
Babul de vehre vich dheeyan ikk phull aisa
Lokaan diyaan jeehde te nigaahvaan

Totli zubaan vich gallan guddo teriyaan main
Baani de shlokaan vaangu sunaa ni
Khushiyaan zamaane diyaan karaan qurbaan taithon
Dukh tere phullan vaangu chunnan ni
Modhe naal laa ke tere rabb jehe mukhde nu
Saari raat loriyaan sunaavaan

Pairaan ch panjebaan tere hatthaan vich choodiyaan
Vehde vich rehan chhankaundiyaan
Jivein kisse devte di aarti uttaare koi
Subaho shaam rehan sadaa gaundiyaan
Saariyaan dheeyaan de dukh mainu lag jaan rabba
Ehna nu na laggan hawaawaan

Dhee ghar jamme khaure bura kyon manaunde loki
Putraan lai mangde duaavaan kyon
Dheeyaan hathon maavaan puttan nu khwaundiyan ne
Dheeyan nu paraaya kehan maavaan kyon
Dheeyan hoke dheeyaan nu hi paun fitkaaran dheeyan
Lath jaan buriyaan balaawaan

Maa kade dhee kade bhain kade beewi dhee e
Tere bina duniya adhoori e
Teri iss kukh vich duniya de sukh dheeye
Teri doli torni zaruri e
Marjaana Mann te gunahaan da maarya ee
Doli wala punn te kamaavaan

Gurdas Mann

I've always felt so sentimental about this song. Today, I heard it after many many years, and now again...it is songs like these, the soothing words of tenderness, love and emotions like these, that make me so fiercely proud of my language, and culture. This is the Punjab I feel proud of. This is the Punjabi I identify with- the man who sings this tender song. Not the hideous people who kill brides or kill unborn girl children, or the people who accept all that with a shrug. That is not Punjab. That is not 'my' state. My state is the one where emotions, values, and people are respected.

Some say Punjabi is the rudest language they've heard.

I know that it is one of the sweetest languages. Hearing it sometimes evokes overwhelming images of cool shade (thandiyaan chhawaan), or cold water (sheetal paani)or honey dripping off the tongue of the speaker.

There is sheer poetry, sheer beauty in Punjabi.

That's my language, my state for you.

Jagg jankshan relaan da

Amazing!!!! I've just discovered 'Jagg jankshan relaan da' on net!!! Here!

That's what I've been doing since yesterday- listening to old punjabi songs on the net. And right now, it's just feeling as if I am sitting in Machhiwara, as if I've never moved out of home- home that was Machhiwara, not Mohali.

Since yesterday, my soul parched of Punjabi is being soothed! I'm feeling so fulfilled!

Chann kithaan guzaari aai raat ve

Chann kithaan guzaari aai raat ve
Mainda jee daleelan de vaas ve

Kothe te fir kothra
Mahi kothe sukdaa kha vlaa (??)
Aashqaan jodiyaan kodiyaan te
Mashookan jode raah bhalla

Kothe te fir kothra
Mahi kothe baitha kaan valla
Tu taan mainu bhul gayeon
Main ajje vi teri haan valla

Kothe te fir kothra
Mahi kothe sukdi ret halaa
Asaan gundayiaan mendiyaan
Tu kisse bahaane vekh halaa

Kothe te fir kothra
Mahi kothe te tandoor halaa
Pehli roti tu khaayein
Tere saathi nassde door halla

Kothe te fir kothra
Mahi kothe utte hai pakhiyaan ni
Peevan ton asin tauba kiti
Jad takiyaan taindiyaan akhiyaan ni

Kothe te fir kothra
Mahi kothe de vich baariyaan
Hunn taan vaapas aa narindra
Tu jiteyon main haari aan

Bol Mitti Dea Baawya

I just came across this clip on You Tube. That was the first time I'd come across the phrase 'Mitti Da Baawa' and it has tugged at my heart ever since. This was the song I'd heard then- at a play staged at the Raamleela ground of Machhiwara, my home town.

Sitting here in Bangalore, listening to Punjabi songs for the past hour and a half, I am feeling so much at home. It's almost as if I am still sitting at home. In Punjab.

Punjabi jehi manohar mitthi
Hor nahin koi boli ditthi! :)

Chhalla

Ho Jaavo ni koi mod lyaavo
Ni mere naal gya ajj lad ke
Ho Allah kare te aaja ve sohna
Devaan jaan kadmaan vich dharke

O chhalla beri oye boor e
Ve watan mahi da door e
Ve jaana pehle poor e
Ve gall sunn chhallya chhora
Ve kaahda laaya ee jhora

Chhalla khooh te dhariye
Ve gallan moonh te kariye
Ve sache Rabb ton darriye
Ve gall sunn challya dhola
Ve Rabb ton kahda ee ohla

O Chhalla kaliyaan marchaan
Ve maura pee ke marjaan
Ve sirre tere chadhsaan
Ve gall sunn chhallya dhola
Ve saad ke kita ee kola

O chhalla 9-9 kheve
Ve puttar mithre mewe
Ve allah sabh nu dewe
Ve gall sunn chhallya kaavaan
Ve mawaan thandiyaan chhawaan

O chhalla kann diyaan dandiyaan
Ve saare pind vich bhandiyaan
Ve gallan chhajj paa chhandiyaan
Ve gall sunn chhallya dhola
Ve saad ke kita ee kola

O chhalla gall di ve gaani
Ve turr gaye diaal de jaani
Ve meri dukhaan di kahaani
Ve aaja sunn ke dhola
Ve tethon kahda ee ohla

O chhalla paaya ee gehne
Ve sajjan beli ni rehne
O dukh jindri de sehne
O gall sunn chhallya dhola
Oye kahda paana ee raula

Mahiya

Koi chhatri di chaan kar ja
Ajj mainu milne di channa hauli jehi haan kar ja

1.

Baage vich aaya karo
Jado asin saun jaayiye
Tusin makhiyaan udaya karo


Tusin roz nahaya karo
Makhiyaan ton darrde o
Gud thoda khaya karo

2.

Kothe te aa mahiya
Milna taan mil aa ke
Nahin taan khasmaan nu khaa mahiya

Ki laina e mitraan ton
Milan te aa javaan
Darr lagda e chhitraan ton

3.

Tusin kaale kaale o
Kujh te sharm karo
Dheeyaan Putraan wale o

Aah saare dand paye kadhde ne
Asin tenu change lagde
Te saade dheeyan putt vadhde ne

4.

Aithe pyaar di puchh koi na
Tere naal nayion bolna
Tere moonh te muchh koi na

Mazaa pyaar da chakh laanga
Je tere hukkam howe
Main taan daadi vi rakh laanga



Peengh pyaar di paavange
Hunn asin mil gaye haan
Geet pyaar de gavaange

Suhe ve cheere valya

Suhe ve cheere valya main kehnni aan
Kar chhatri di chhaan main chhavein behnni aan

Suhe ve cheere valya phull kikraan de
Kikraan laai bahaar mele mitraan de

Suhe ve cheere valya phul tori daa
Bajh tere ve maahiya kujh ni lodida

Suhe ve cheere valya main kehni aa
Lagde teer judaayiaan de main sehni aa

Suhe ve cheere valya do laaldiyaan
mela vekhan aayiaan karma valadiyaan

Suhe ve cheere valya tand jodida
dil da najak sheesha injh ni todida

Suhe ve cheere valya gall ganiyaan
charkha rang rangeela vehde daahniyaan

Suhe ve cheere valya main kehni aan
kar chhatri di chhaan main chhavein behni aan

Listen to the old songs by Surinder Kaur here

Mujhko Yaqeen Hai

mujhko yaqeen hai sach kahti thi
jo bhi ammi kahti thi -2
jab mere bachpan ke din the,
chaaNd mein pariyaaN rahti thi
mujhko yaqeen hai sach kahti thi
jo bhi ammi kahti thi

ek ye din jab apnoN ne bhi
hamse naataa toD liyaa -2
ek vo din jab peD ki shaaKhen
bojh hamaaraa sahti thi
mujhko yaqeen hai sach kahti thi
jo bhi ammi kahti thi

ek ye din jab saari saDken
rooThi rooThi lagti hain -2
ek vo din jab aao khelen
saari galiyaaN kahti thi
mujhko yaqeen hai sach kahti thi
jo bhi ammi kahti thi

* ek ye din jab jaagi raaten
deevaaroN ko takti hain -2
ek vo din jab shaamoN ki bhi
palken bojhal rahti thi
mujhko yaqeen hai sach kahti thi
jo bhi ammi kahti thi

ek ye din jab laakhoN Gham aur
kaal paDaa hai aaNsoo kaa -2
ek vo din jab ek zaraa si baat
pe nadiyaaN bahti thi
mujhko yaqeen hai sach kahti thi
jo bhi ammi kahti thi
jab mere bachpan ke din the,
chaaNd mein pariyaaN rahti thi
mujhko yaqeen hai sach kahti thi
jo bhi ammi kahti thi


Sung by: Jagjeet Singh
Written By: Javed Akhtar

Jutti Kasoori

Jutti Kasoori Pairi Na Poori
Hayye Rabba Vey Sanu Turna Peya
Hayye Rabba Vey Sanu Turna Peya
Jinna Rahaan Di Mei Saar Na Jaana
Ohni Raahein Vey Mainu Murna Peya
Ohni Raahein Vey Mainu Murna Peya

Saure Pindh Diyaan Lambhiyan Vaatan
Bada Pawara Peh Geya
Yakka Teh Pahre Koi Na Keeta
Mahiya Paidal Leh Geya
Mahiya Paidal Leh Geya

Lei Mera Muklava Dhola
Sarke Sarke Javada
Kadheya ghundh Kujh Keh Na Sakdi
Dil Mera Sharmavda Oye
Dil Mera Sharmavda

Sol Piniya Pairh Phoole
Saatho Tureya Jaaye Na
Sajra Joban, Sikhar Dupehran
Taras Sohna Khaaye Na Oye
Taras Sohna Khaaye Na

Pairaan De Vich Pai Gaye Chhalley
Muh Mere Khumlavda
Mahiya Turda Jaaye Aage Ve
Pichhahn Na Jhaati Paavda Oye
Pichhahn Na Jhaati Paavda

Jutti Kasoori Pairi Na Poori
Hayye Rabba Vey Sanu Turna Peya
Hayye Rabba Vey Sanu Turna Peya
Jinna Rahaan Di Mei Saar Na Jaana
Ohni Raahein Vey Mainu Murna Peya
Ohni Raahein Vey Mainu Murna Peya


Sung by: Surinder Kaur

Mitti da baawa

Mitti da baawa main banauni aa
Ve jhagga pauni aa
Ve utte dendi aa khesi
Naa ro mitti dea baawya
Ve tera peau pardesi

Ho Mitti da baawa nayion bolda

Mitti da baawa nayion bolda
Ve nayion chalda
Ve nayion dinda e hungaara
Na ro mitti dea baawya
Ve tera peau vanjaara

Kitte taan laavaan taahliyaan,
Pattan vaaliyan
Ve mera patla maahi
Kitte taan laavaan shehtoot
Ve tenu samjh naa aaye

O Mitti da baawa nayion bolda

That's how I feel Right Now!

That's the exuberance I feel....walking on the roads, humming, singing, jumping, dancing- all by myself. Ah! The joy of living!

Life is a Celebration!!!

Zindagi Aa rha hoon Main!!! :) :) :)

On The Joy That Running Is

(Disclaimer: This is not Sports & Exercise Medicine doctor writing but a crazy runner... a damn crazy runner.
Please do not try this at home, kids please keep a watch on your parents)

Hi kids,

It's been a while since I "RAN".

I got up at 3:45 am on Thursday (21st) morning and was just craving for RUNNING. I just had way to much going on in my head to sleep. I decided to test drive the HPCosmos treadmill at the Sports & Exercise Medicine department at Manipal Hospital, that costs as much as Honda Accord. Wanted to check out for myself if it was as good as the Accord.

I had only run 4-5 times since the Bangalore ultra marathon, of which Tuesday (19th) and Wednesday (20th) were two of them. I have the Rajasthan desert run coming up, where the plan is to run a marathon or more every day for 5 consecutive days. So, needed some training.

One thing I learnt the real hard way was, that training is "over-rated". The only time I had a chance to come first in a marathon, was ruined by a 62 year old running mate. Last time he had run was 6 months before that, as he was nursing an "achilles tendenitis". I was running with him for first 21 km, and then decided he was too slow for me and I carried on. The guy caught up with me at 40 km mark and kicked my butt / ass / arse (take your pick) really bad. I did that particular marathon in 2 hrs 58 min and he did that in 2 hrs 54 min (his personal best). What really got this chap through was his experience of having run more than 200 marathons and rest (experience and recovery).

Back to the treadmill run. Now, the catch was, the department opens at 6 am. I was in my running gear by 4 am and was raring to go.

I finally reached the department by 6:30 am along with my water bottle and 2 Power bars. The plan was to ... hmmm ... RUN I guess. Basically, had nothing planned. Initial running speed was 14 kmph and I was trying to do a quick 5km, which grew to 10 km but then decided to slow down so I could comfortably do more, if I felt like. It was a bit of a struggle for first 40ish minutes, but at sharp 7:13 am, Kieran asked me how I felt. I said, "no legs". He thought I was dying that I couldn't feel my legs. In "Every Second Counts", Lance Armstrong uses a phrase "no chain" when he is going very quick but feels very comfortable. So for me it was "no legs".

At this stage I was cruising at 12-13 kmph. It might seem very slow but I had never run more than 30 min in total on treadmill, all put together, in my life. And I hate treadmills!

By now the plan was to do 20 km, which turned to 30 km. In this time, I had attended to 2 patient's conditions and 1 department issue and also applied some tape on my left bleeding nipple. I had 3 water stops. At times I had increased the speed to 17 kmph but most of the times it was 11 kmph.

After having got to 30 km, it just made no sense to stop there, as only 12 km more would complete the marathon distance. The best part was, I got the sms I was waiting for at around 30 km mark! I couldn't wait, sitting doing nothing. I just felt awesome.

By 40th km, Pariksha (nutritionist) had come, and I asked her to check out my Heart Rate. So, I picked up the speed again to 17-18 kmph and my heart rate touched 200 bpm. According to the formulas given on "Internet" for "Maximum Heart Rate", I had just turned 20 years. I could have reduced it to 15 yrs, but Pariksha advised me to take it easy.

After having turned 20, I had reached the 42.2 km in 3 hrs 40 min. I could have carried on for another 30ish km, but decided to stop. Slow for a marathon, but ok for a run after such a long time.

All systems are ready to go for the Rajasthan desert run and some surprise runs planned over next 2 months. It's cool to find "surprise" & "planned" in the same line.

Keep smiling & miling.

Rajat

--

Dr Rajat Chauhan
Consultant & Head
Sports and Exercise Medicine
Manipal Hospital
Airport Road
Bangalore 560017

I've joined a runners group here, 'Runners For Life'. This is a post I read on its mailgroup. I've published it here with the permission of the author.

The phrase that often entices me while running on the treadmill is, "The first 5 km were a breeze."

That's how I want my runs to be.

My current personal best is 9.44 km in 1 hr.

The Bangalore International Marathon is scheduled for September.

My goal for it is to run the half-marathon in the best possible time.

Day before yesterday, my mind said, "Suppose, just suppose, if I won the half-Marathon!"

Now, there is perfectly no reason why I should believe that to be possible, but an exciting thrill made me smile.

For now, I'll just run I guess.

I'll let the goal build by itself.

Meanwhile, Running is just SO exhilirating! I feel immensely proud of my body!

I am finally into sports. It won't be long before I would be able to call myself a long-distance runner.

I feel just so good about it all!

Reading Opal Mehta

I am reading Opal Mehta, am currently one-thirds through, and am getting more and more irritated by the extent to which she goes to 'fit-in.' She has completely left behind all that was important to her, 'disowned' it in fact, and is desperately trying to live upto other people's (read 3 dumb girls') standards of 'coolness.'

The fact that the book has vexed me enough to write this post should testify to the excellent level of writing- it does take the reader into its world. The book flows confidently, lucidly, without any self-consciousness. Considering the age of Kavya Vishwanathan, I sure am impressed by her talent!

'The Quest' became meaningless

There was a time, not long ago
When I'd resolved to overthrow
All the fat off me, and grow
Wholly slim before home I go.

In these few days though
Something's changed, so
I'm chasing no
More the perfect 'After' photo.

I've started running, And oh!
It feels great to know
You can. In health you glow
And in thanks you bow

For the good health you were bestowed.
To measure the body by the kilo
Is to measure it too shallow.
"Health and strength" is my new motto :-)

Had begun to write a post, but when the first two lines rhymed, just turned it into a poem.

My best timing on the treadmill so far happened yesterday: 9.42 km in 1 hr

A 10-km run is scheduled in Bangalore in May. I am running those distances already on the treadmill, but running on the roads is always slower, and I want to have a great timing by then.

The current world record in half-marathon runs (21.0975 km) is of 66.25 min. In that much time, I am able to run only half the distance! By the time the International Bangalore Marathon happens in Bangalore (that's in September), I want to be able to breeze through that distance.

That is the goal I am working on now.

Trying to be a freelancer

A few days back, I got an email forward of a speech that Warren Buffet gave. He was one of the richest men of the world, who had started trading in shares at the age of 11, and when he made money on them, his first reaction had been, "Gosh! Why didn't I start earlier!"

I anm having the same itch these days- to employ my talent with words. I know that I have it, and I am so eager to use it, 'coz otherwise my mind feels rusted and dull.

I am at my best when I've written something well.

That mood, that state of being is something else- a state of total exaltation, of supreme self-confidence!

That is how I best love myself. That is how I always want to be.

For the past few days, I've been sincerely trying to search for options available as a freelance writer.

I got a few responses as well.

But, the work I got I did not like, and chose not to do.

And, the work I wanted, I did not get.

Like, one of the content-providing services that I had approached asked me to submit an article on 'Skin Care' within two days.

That was a topic which hardly interests me. So I just let the mail be, and soonafter deleted it.

I do not want to be ordered to write 'this' or 'that.' I want to have the freedom to choose my own topic.

But, what topics can I write on?

Ummm....when an editor of a city newspaper asked me this question, I realized that I was unclear about the answer!

So, the scenario is that I am itching to unleash the writer in me- that restless spirit in me cannot wait to get out- but I cannot decide the perfect outlets for her, and what she would work on.

But, she so desperately wants to work!

At least, she can self-publish herself!

Posting on the blog seems so easy- and uncomplicated- as compared to the labrynthines of freelancing!

Oxymorons Within

There's a part of me that speaks copiously, and hardly stops. I can go on and on and on. That's how many friends know me.

And, there's a part that is sparse with words. Only the words that are absolutely necessary must be used. It values understatements more than overexpressions. This is the part of me that is the writer. And, that is how I am, sometimes.

An oil-in-water mix of conflicting personalities. That's how I'd once read Octavia Butler describe herself. That's how I am.

Target: Half-Marathon

I am training myself to be fit enough to run a half-marathon.

I ran my first run last Saturday. The Elcia Run. I wanted to see if I could run 7 km. I could.

So now, it's the higher goal.

Unsure!

I stood by the end of the terrace watching in silence the small vehicles moving unbothered on the busy road below, and the towering buildings all around.

This is the world of business.

The real world.

The world that matters.

What is my position in this world?

At the fringes.

Or, none at all.

Because, I don't feel a part of it.

I am aloof.

I feel more like the flower in the pot on the terrace wall.

What place does that flower, do the random trees around have in this electronic-city?

They do not matter. Not in the scheme of the things.

Yet, to imagine the area bared of them all...!

At least that flower would be confident of the definite role that it plays. Of its importance in this world of electronics and economics.

I am still unsure.

A blogger's review of Toni Morrison's 'Sula'

It is a typical story if you try to summarize it, but what makes the book enchanting is the compelling writing that sucks you into its depths of metaphors, wonderful moments and sadness. One moment you are free falling through Sulas mind and the next you are caught in Nells. Its like poetry came home disguised as a novel. Great writing is being able to make the reader abandon the environment she inhabits entirely to step into the book and smell the earth the walk on, be all the characters in it, lead their lives and take a while to come back to where you are. I felt that because I couldn’t bring myself to close the book and I kept hoping that I hadn’t read the last line.I couldn’t switch on the tv and expose myself to my ordinary life after such fine writing. More than Nell and Sula what I wanted was more of the words, the writing. That’s when I read about Toni Morisson on the first page. It was only right that she was a Nobel Prize winner with other awards in her bag such as the Pulitzer and the National Critics award. What I loved most about it is the irony of calling the town “The bottom” in spite of it being at the top of the hill and not the valley. That’s because it was inhabited by the blacks of the region and the whites lived in the valley. The Bottom of heaven is how she described it.

Culled from the blog of 'Green Casper'

Nostalgia

Walking out of the campus
Of the company I work for
To the building I work in
(It's outside the campus)
I see the road shaded
With trees, and
The happy sunlight around.
It's a short walk,
a few minutes,
And, in those, I pass by
A college, much like mine,
I always think.
There,
Within those gates,
Would be folding,
Unfolding,
So many stories
Right now,
As I pass.
There,
Within those corridors
Would be walking
A girl like me
Dreaming, Bubbling
Enthusiastically.
The girl that I was.
Oh, the days that those were!
The grass glistening with dew drops,
Or slanting sunrays sometimes
Or a friendly face
Or an anecdote of long ago
Or a dear hummed tune
Or...
So many things,
So little,
So surreal
So ineffable
And yet, so real
Move me
On that road.
Walking on that short stretch
In between the two gates
I go back, to...

The Enigma

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.


Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou

The Start

"...and she dropped all the junk into the bin."

That would be the 'happy end' to a tale of overeating, of eating wrong, an optmistic ending, with the promise of better days ahead.

That is how my day started today.

It's been six weeks since I came to Bangalore.

Before coming here, I had been talking of the 'Before' and 'After' pics, implying at the positive transformation I hoped to undergo, while living on my own.

It was the first time I would be living away from the loving, and fattening, care of mama and biji, and with girls my own age. So, I would begin eating right.

Or so I thought.

I asked Jyoti to not let me eat chocolates or ice-creams or biscuits- my only problem foods.

She readily agreed.

Alas, I discovered she is fond of them herself.

:-(

Most of the times she buys a bar, I buy one too.

:-(

She stocked a collection of cookies in a transparent jar on our common table, and a temptations bar.

My own collection felt so poor by comparison. I had just grapes to dig into.

So, last Saturday, I decided on 'The Temptation Therapy' for my cravings.

I decided that rather than banning one thing or the other for myself, I'll rather let myself have everything I want to. The real fun is in knowing that you can have anything you want to, but not wanting to have it. I would cure the desire itself, I valiantly resolved.

And so, that day, when I felt like buying a chocolate, I did. In fact, along with the 'Crackle' that had pulled me to the shop, I happily bought the 'Nutties' that caught my fancy there. After all, buying it did not mean eating it. The day I learned this lesson, all my food woes would be solved. The day I learnt to keep my favorite edibles in a container and happily forget about their existence...

Hmmm....I did not touch them at all that day. The thought didn't even cross my mind, and it made me feel so good, so 'in control.'

I felt so proud putting away those chocolates in a plastic container in the almirah.

I could stay aloof from chocolates like that! I could store them till eternity!

Wow!

:-)

:-)

On Sunday, I had the ambition that I would build myself a rich stock, and would still not eat it. I would feel so rich, having all those goodies in my boxes, and so good, not eating them.

I bought a bar of 'Dairy Milk', two bars of dark chocolate, one pack of home-made chocolates, exquisitely packed, and good cookies.

On Monday Morning, I had quite a smorgasbord of eatables for myself.

And yet, the whole day I ate right. They all, except the fruits, lay untouched.

It was a wonderful feeling!

Then came yesterday.

Like, deep inside, I knew it would.

I was in my room by 6 pm.

From then on, till I slept at 1:30 am, I nibbled at one thing or the other, pretending to be totally innocent. Guilt, why should guilt be there? It was just a little bit. It was ok.

By the time I finally brushed my teeth, and formally closed the gates of my mouth, I must have eaten around one full packet (most probably, more) of biscuits, and one whole bar of Dairy Milk, and one of Crackle.

I was feeling so bad as I went to bed.

At this rate, I was going to balloon!

The 'After' pic was going to be worse than the 'before' one!

:-(

I dozed off.

I woke up at 5:45 with Sim's call. She works in the night shift, and if we talk before she sleeps, that's when we talk.

Hmmm.....so she called, and I told her how the experiment had failed.....so miserably! :((

Hmm...and talking to her, I looked out of the window. The light was just beginning...all was gray outside...steadily becoming firmer, brighter as we talked. I had the desire to walk to office today.

And, I promised her that no such experiments any more. No such excuses for yielding to temptations.

Strict discipline was what would work.

I am going home in April.

Thats two months and two weeks from now. Ten weeks.

And, twelve kgs to lose.

An entirely achievable goal.

And, I am going to work on it.

Seriously.

Enough of being so wishful and vacillating and dissatisfied about my weight.

That is the only aspect of myself where I wish I wasn't what I am.

Just for the want of a little will power, and firmness in mind, I've put myself through such self-conscious thoughts. The only reason why I look into a mirror is to see whether I am not looking too fat. I hate doing so, and yet I do.

It's enough!

Enough of acting like a helpless victim of temptations.

It's just a matter of twelve kgs afer all!

So much thinking- it's too much a price to pay.

No more of it.

So, today, I've decided to launch, and publicly so, my quest for 'The 'After' Pic.'

What I've already done:

1. Packed all the remaining biscuits (and there were m-a-n-y) and the chocolates and thrown them in the bin. (The maid is sure going to be surprised today.)

2. Walked to the office today. It took exactly an hour.

Today, I've been feeling so fresh. It's only Thursday today, but the day has a Friday-feel to it :)

The rules of the project:

1. No desserts, no sweets, no confectionaries, no bakeries
2. Only fruits as the allowed desserts.
3. A max of one juice each day...I've been drinking one with practically every meal for the past few days now.
4. Regular exercise...a walk/aerobics/yoga....for a min of 1 hour each day.

Hmmm.....nothing more. Let me not speak too much now. Not this time. Not just words again. Please. Let me do it this time. Finally.

My Favoritest Songs

The list is just so l-o-n-g!

But, there are a few common characteristics of my fav songs: they all have meaningful lyrics, and are usually very soft melodies, among Hindi songs, mostly of 70s, and some of 80s and 90s and thereafter, and then Punjabi folk, Gurdas Mann and anything by Gulzar. He is one man whose imagination, and the delicacy with which he sets it into words, I admire.

Hmm...so how suddenly this talk of my fav songs? Thats coz last Thursday, I discovered the joy of listening to songs on a free day in office. I had borrowed a headphone from a friend, and it's Monday evening today, and it's still with me. I've been listening and re-listening to songs for three days now.

Hmm....so now coming back to the topic.

As I said, it's such a long list!

I'll start randomly:

Roobaroo Roshani

aye saala
abhi abhi huaa yaqeen ki aag hai mujh mein kahi
hui subaah main chal gaya
suraj ko main nigal gaya
ruu-ba-ruu roshni heyy - 2

jo gumshuda-sa khwaab tha
voh mil gaya voh khil gaya
woh loha tha pighal gaya
khinchaa khinchaa machal gaya
sitaar mein badal gaya
ruu-ba-ruu roshni heyy - 2

(dhuaan chhataa khula gagan mera
nayi dagar naya safar mera
jo ban sake tu hamsafar mera
nazar mila zara) - 2

aandhiyon se jaghad rahi hai lau meri
ab mashaalon si badh rahi hai lau meri
naamo nishaan rahe na rahe
ye kaaravaan rahe na rahe
ujaale mein pee gaya
roshan huaa jee gaya
kyon sehte rahe
ruu-ba-ruu roshni heyy - 2
dhuaan chhataa khula gagan mera
nayi dagar naya safar mera
jo ban sake tu hamsafar mera
nazar mila zara
ruu-ba-ruu roshni heyy - 2
aye saala - 4

I so absolutely identify with, and adore this song, and love the spirit it exudes. I've even toyed with the idea of having it as my caller tune, my signature tune so to say. Maybe I will.

And, listening to this song always transports me back to the RDB days....that was my 6th sem in college, and we at Magboard had organized an absolutely electrifying panel discussion, popularly known as 'the RDB Debate', and from there, I go back to those days in general. That was the time I was working on 'The Vine.' Those were the days!

Nostalgia lends such a touch of magic to all the times that were!


Main Pal Do Pal ka

Main pal do pal ka shaayar hoon
Pal do pal meri kahaani hai
Pal do pal meri hasti hai
Pal do pal meri jawaani hai

Mujhse pehle kitne shaayar
Aaye aur aakar chale gaye
Kuchh aahein bharkar laut gaye
Kuchh naghme gaakar chale gaye
Woh bhi ek pal ka kissa thhey
Main bhi ek pal ka kissa hoon
Kal tumse juda ho jaaoonga
Woh aaj tumhaara hissa hoon
Main pal do pal ka..

Kal aur aayenge nagmon ki
Khilti kaliya chunne waale
Mujhse behtar kehne waale
Tumse behtar sunne waale
Kal koi mujhko yaad kare
Kyoon koi mujhko yaad kare
Mashroof zamaana mere liye
Kyoon waqt apna barbaad kare
Main pal do pal ka..

I've identified with this song, ever since I first heard it, and that was when I was in class sixth or so, and Papa had bought a cassette of Mukesh's songs for the car. At that time, I had no notion that some day I would seriously thinking of being a writer or a poet, but somewhow, the song just appealed to me so much! I've always loved this song, without quite knowing why. I think I like the philosophy in it, and the simplicity with which it talks.

It was only a few months back that I saw its video for the first time, and realized that it was from Kabhie Kabhie. But, it has always been one of my favourite songs. FAVOURITE in all caps!

Tere Bina

(dum dara dum dara mast mast dara - 2
dum dara dum dum
oh hum dum bin tere kyaa jeenaa) - 2

tere bina beswaadi beswaadi ratiyaan, oh sajna - 2
rookhi re oh rookhi re, kaatore kaate katena
tere bina beswaadi beswaadi ratiyaan, oh sajna - 2
(dum dara dum dara mast mast dara - 2
dum dara dum dum
oh hum dum bin tere kyaa jeenaa) - 2

naa jaa chaakri kaa maare
naa jaa souten pukaare
saawan aeyega toh poochegaa
naa jaa re
pheeki pheeki beswaadhi
yeh ratiyaan
kaatore kate naa kate naa
ab tere binaa sajnaa sajnaa
kaate kate naa
katenaa katenaa tere binaa
tere binaa beswaadi beswaadi
ratiyaan, oh sajnaa oh
(dum dara dum dara mast mast dara - 2
dum dara dum dum
oh hum dum bin tere kyaa jeenaa) - 2

tere binaa chaand kaa sonaa khotaa re
peeli peeli dhool undaawe jhootaa re
tere binaa sonaa peetal
tere sang keekar peepal
aaja katenaa ratiyaan
dum daraa dum daraa mast mast daraa - 2
dum daraa dum dum
oh hum dum bin tere kya jeena
tere binaa beswaadi beswaadi
ratiyaan, oh sajnaa oh
rukhiri re rukhire kaatore katenaa
(dum daraa dum daraa mast mast daraa - 2
dum daraa dum dum
oh hum dum bin tere kyaa jeenaa) - 2

I always loved the sound of this song, but never paid much attention to it. Now, I am living with Jyoti, and she hums it quite a lot, so the song grew more familiar. And so, on Thursday, when the music-binge started, I listened to it, perhaps for the first time, in concentration, and I loved it! Really!

Such a folksy feel to it, and such amazing lyrics...so delicious- the use of 'beswaadi' for nights was just so appetizing-so delicate....and yet, so intense! I was bowled over by the lines, "tere binaa sonaa peetal
tere sang keekar peepal"
Beautiful rhyming between peetal, and peepal, something I would not have thought of had I been writing this song, and such a wonderful thing to say, "tere sang keekar peepal,"...Wow!

So, as you can see, I have quite liked this song.Period. Now let's move on.

Raat Kali Ek Khwaab Mein Aayi

Raat Kali Ek Khwaab Mein Aayi
Aur Gale Ka Haar Hui
Subah Ko Jab Hum Neend Se Jaage
Aankh Tumhise Chaar Hui

Chahe Kaho Ise Meri Mohabbat
Chahe Hasi Mein Uda Do
Yeh Kya Hua Mujhe Mujhko Khabar Nahin
Ho Sake Tum Hi Bata Do
Tumne Kadam Jo Rakha Zameen Par
Seene Mein Kyun Jhankar Hui
Raat Kali Ek...

Aankhon Mein Kajal Aur Latton Mein
Kali Ghata Ka Basera
Sawali Surat Mohni Murat
Saawan Rut Ka Savera
Jab Se Yeh Mukhda Dil Mein Khila Hai
Duniya Meri Gulzar Hui
Raat Kali Ek...

Yoon To Haseenon Ke Mahjabeenon Ke
Hote Hain Roz Nazare
Par Unhe Dekhke Dekha Hai Jab Tumhe
Tum Lage Aur Bhi Pyare
Bahon Mein Le Loon Aisi Tamanna
Ek Nahin Kai Baar Hui
Raat Kali Ek...

This is one of my D-E-A-R-E-S-T songs! A song that I can always be found humming or singing. Such simple words, saying so much.

"Chahe Kaho Ise Meri Mohabbat
Chahe Hasi Mein Uda Do
Yeh Kya Hua Mujhe Mujhko Khabar Nahin
Ho Sake Tum Hi Bata Do"

"Yoon To Haseenon Ke Mahjabeenon Ke
Hote Hain Roz Nazare
Par Unhe Dekhke Dekha Hai Jab Tumhe
Tum Lage Aur Bhi Pyare"

The most innocent, true and heartfelt song I've heard.

The Jungle Book

This song always brings such a twinkle in my eyes, it brings out the child in me, and I always sing with it or sway with it. We've been listening to it a lot lately- a friend has it in his cell, and now, I have it in my comp too.

Hmmm.....so my dear readers....let that be the list for now. Thanks for listening to me.....now let me go back to the songs. I have my bus at 7:15.

P.S: I had thought I would post my account of the weekend that was. But, this unexpected post was fun.

P.P.S: The song I hummed a lot this weekend, "Naa marte hum to kya karte, hazaaron mein tum hi tum the mere sanam" Remember the video of it, not the original, but the one releazed a few years back, the one in which Dia Mirza comes to Paris after her boyfriend, and there she is, lost in Paris, not understanding the language, and with just a backpack, and the friendly ghost of Asha Bhosle? Well, I used to love that song, and especially Dia Mirza in its video- the image of her in a baby pink loose sweater, with a bag on her back. Well, thats how I was walking on the pavements of Central Bangalore this weekend. I felt so adventurous, and free, and good. La la la la, I went all way.

P.P.P.S: Bye! Finally....lol

P.P.P.P.S: I just have to mention these songs in my list, else they are gonna feel bad- my absolute all-time favorites- I've already blogged bout them, but still must mention them here: Tujhse naaraaz nahin zindagi, tere bina zindagi se koi, tumko dekha toh yeh khyaal aaya, ai mere pyaare watan,....hmmm...ok..now you can go! :D

After a Month

“How is Bangalore?”

Over the phone, in the mails, on the communicator- I’ve been asked this question. And, I’ve not really known what to answer.

It’s been one month and two days since I came to Bangalore.

How has it been?

It was a total change in my settings- the city, the work, the environment, the people- an absolute migration.

And yet, there was nothing dramatic about it.

Life just went on.

We landed here at 9:25 am on 9th Dec. It was my first flight, both literally and metaphorically. I was sitting in the middle seat, and Jyoti with me towards the aisle. The way we were looking out of the window as the plane took off, the guy sitting by the window seat asked me if we wanted the window seat. I said if we could, please. He smiled and shifted on to Jyoti’s seat.

We looked out of the window. It felt just so glorious- the sea of clouds resplendent in the golden sunlight. Our seat was just above the left wing of the plane. The wing seemed absolutely still. The plane hardly seemed to be moving.

I was thinking that when I called up at home, they would all ask me how I’d felt in the plane? Excited? Probably, that’s how I was supposed to feel. That’s how I would have supposed anyone on their first flight to feel.

But, I felt no excitement. After the first two minutes, the plane had become a matter-of-fact. Yawn.

There’s just so much one can look out of the window. Soon, we were both asleep.

By around 11 am, we were in our room. The room was a disappointment. We were under the impression that we would be booked into a five star or something. What we had was just a simple, fully functional and comfortable, but not plush room.

The disappointment too however was superficial, just like the excitement of the plane. It failed to rouse any strong emotion.

I just accepted my new room, and all my new settings.

Perhaps it is because I am not too perky today that I am sounding so dull in this post, but I’m not sure. I’m trying to narrate as I remember, and not let my present moods colour my past days into a needless gray.

Why am I not perky today?

I don’t know.

Even when I am, it doesn’t really mean I am happy.

I was about to write that I feel like a leaf, flitted by the wind, from one place to another, with no will, no purpose of its own. I was about to write that, when I admonished myself, stop such wordy talk! All I do is talk. I do nothing. Nothing, of what I say. I am all words. “Words are all I have.” But even words, do I accept them? The only thing I currently know I can do is writing. And yet, have I given myself to writing?

No.

When I am at my most intense, I don’t write. I cannot.I think. I think, and I sleep. I am so swayed by the powerful images, by the thoughts that I fear I won’t be able to express them accurately. This is not even a conscious fear. But so many times has it happened that I’ve picked up my pen, opened my register, and begun to write, and then, almost immediately, started reading something I’d written before, and then, something before that, and then it starts a chain of thoughts, and I just shut down my register, and lie down or sit up, and think. I think. And soon, I fall asleep.

I don’t know how many unwritten stories lie in those slept-away-hours.

Yesterday, I picked up Ernest Hemingway’s autobiography of his early youth- his early days as a writer. The age he was writing about was the age I am of, 22-23. He would work in a small room on his stories, and would go to that room on the top floor of a hotel daily, and write the whole day, and leave only when he felt proud of what he had written, and when he knew what he would write the next day, so that he was sure he would be coming back there the following day.

I underlined many of the lines in that chapter. I’ve read only the first three till now.

And, I thought of my story, the book I’m working on. How that book, that dream is suffering!

I am suffering too. I am restless.

And yet, I am going on.

Nothing’s changing.

Nothing’s changed.

I’ve just moved from Chandigarh to Bangalore.

That’s all.

There are times when I feel just so remote and distant from everyone. Like now, when I just want to sit by myself, and think, and write whatever comes to my mind.

I so love it when I do that, this freedom, being able to put into words my thoughts.

Earlier, I used to be conscious of what I posted on my blog. Whether a thing was not too personal to be put up on a public space like that. But now, no such consideration. It hardly matters.

When I am asked, “How is Bangalore?” I don’t know what I am supposed to answer. It’s a city like any other. It has a few famous roads, shopping malls, just like any other city. We’ve been to some of those.

It felt just as novel as it would have felt to go to a restaurant in Chandigarh I’d not been to before.

I’ve not yet seen the ‘soul’ of the city. It must have one- some special quality that makes all her people passionately proud of it.

I’ve just walked on her roads as one of the crowds, and oh, what oceanic crowds they are! So many people!

How does life away from home feel?

Again, I was going to write, “Nothing dramatic about it.” And that’s the truth too.

Life has just gone on, just assumed a different routine, but now, set as that routine is, it’s going on.

Sometimes a silly sentimentality takes over. Things that I realize are silly even as I say them- silly, hollow, and devoid of any meaning- and yet, I say them. Like, a half hour back, I was chatting with Vineeta on the communicator, and I asked her what time the bus left now, OUR bus, I wrote with emphasis. She said, it still left at 6. “It’ll go from near my home.” I replied wistfully.

Or, like just now, Sim called in briefly, and she told me she was going to “aapne des” today.

Silly sentimentality.

Silly, because I know that staying away from home has nothing to do with the void I feel. Did I not feel just as restless when I was there?

There used to be days there when I would feel alone, dark, ponderous.

There are the same days here.

The city has changed, the work has changed, the environment has changed, the people have changed, but…I remain the same.

And, that is why, all that change has had no effect.

Life continues like before.

Life, searching for its meaning.

Life, so restlessly searching.

Going!

I’ll be leaving in an hour.

I’ll be leaving home.

Just now, I was talking to Guddi Maasi, and she asked, “Dil taan nahin ghat reha?”

“Ajje takk taan nahin. Parson ghat reha si thoda jeha, baaki kal jaa ke pata lagu!” I replied.

Tiwana Uncle wished me luck, and said that he had just one thing to say- that sincerity and hardwork always pays. “That’s the experience of my life,” he added.

I’ve talked to almost my entire extended family today.

Over the last two weeks, I’ve met most of my close friends.

Each day has felt so special.

Each day has brought a few memorable moments with it.

Each day I’ve felt so rich- with the love, care and warmth- of my family and my friends.

Just a little while ago, Twinkle gifted me a ppt that I had seen her preparing earlier in the day- it had pics of everyone in the family, starting from Beeji, appearing one by one- and in the end, a Good Luck message. It was so sweet!

I’ve just mailed the ppt to myself.

I know I’ll be seeing it again, and again, quite soon.

In the evening today, I’d had the scraps that I’d collected from the seniors, my friends and my juniors over the last year-and-a-half, bounded into a scrap-book.

I’ve packed my old diaries, and photographs…..and hey! I’ve forgotten ‘Vine’!!!
Have remembered it in good time! (a mental note made to add it as soon as I stop writing).

The luggage is already 8 kg overweight. But that’s ok!

I added Dilraj in my messenger list. Till now, it made no sense- at one time, only one of us could be online. Tomorrow by now, we would have had our first chat.

It’s a new beginning.

I’ve been telling Dilraj to click my pics before I go.

Then, we can compare the ‘Before’ and the ‘After’ pics.

“Maybe, by the time you come back, I am not here,” he said.
That’s probable. He’s in 12th now- his ‘decisive’ year.

I’m going today.

I don’t know when I’ll come back.

Manu came home 2 hours ago. For these few hours, we are all together- Manu, Twinkle, Dilraj, Harsh and me. When next? None knows.

Twinkle just came to ask how much of my work is left. “We are all sitting together,” she said.

I’m going to join them.

I’m going to live this last hour with them- my family.

I’m going away from home.

A Boat beneath a sunny sky

A Boat beneath a sunny sky,
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July —
Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear —
Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die:
Autumn frosts have slain July.
Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.
Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.
In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die:
Ever drifting down the stream —
Lingering in the golden dream —
Life, what is it but a dream?

Lewis Carroll

The Alvida Chronicles

I’ve decided to chronicle every day of this week. I’m flying to Bangalore on 9th morning. I know there will be times there when I will want to relive these wonderful days.

It’s been almost two weeks now that every day has been bringing something new and exciting.

So, before the chronicles start, here is a quick recap of the past few days:

Awesome Weekend 1