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.

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.

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

No more of it.

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 :)

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

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.