More movie moments...

An unexpected outcome of the previous blog was a lovely exchange with mum on her favorite movie moments as well. She was also able to remind me of others I had forgotten…

The beginning - Big B confronted by the only actress who could stand up to him, her eyes blazing, he with a sneering smile, the music creating a furore in the background, a moment full of haughty (albeit overdone) imperiousness. The end - a battered B, a devastated Sri, come to each other in the middle of a raging battle. Sudden silence, she raises her hand to touch his blood soaked beard, he grins and draws himself to his full height. (Plaza, Del)

Z sat holding her baby stunned at the way fate had overtaken her life, as Lata’s voice expressed the same. Later, Z takes her life into her own hands and fights with her husband to be a part of his life in all aspects. And the last scene, where she dances…on the reel, with her son and mother watching her. Unexpectedly a story full of life and tragedy, that stayed with me long after the film ended. (Lido, Blr)

She was combing her hair in the front of the mirror, and runs her hand through her hair to smoothen it. And stops. Because she can feel another hand. In her hair. Probably the only chilling moment I have ever encountered in a Hindi film ! (Satyam, Chn)

A hotel room in HK. A montage of characters in the room – the don himself, his second command, the hero’s office pleading for truce, and the moll, who’s just come from India. Her suitcases can be seen in a corner. To me this little detail symbolizes the perfection of this movie. (DTs, Del)

The last overs of the cricket match, the tension on everyone’s faces…not the characters, but the audience. I have NEVER, EVER seen hundreds of people so collectively absorbed. (Chanakya, Del)

The play of light and shadow with the sudden bursts of color, the imaginatively choreographed sequences, the presentation of ideas in a format that screamed "off-Broadway" yet had the clinical perfection of modern music videos, the integration of the script with the songs, the on screen transformation of stars. (PVR, Del)

Movie moments

As I watched Lamhe on Saturday afternoon, I realised that despite the hundreds of excellent movies I have watched on TV (Star/HBO/TNT/DVDs), there is a special magic about the movie moments created in a theatre. Some that I could remember right now...

The darkened dome, the glimpses of red carpeting in soft side lights, Waheeda Rehman’s voice echoing in the wood paneled surroundings…my first movie in a theatre became my all time favorite. How many moments can I choose? When Anil K asks Sri if he can call her by her name? When the magic of Sri and Rajasthan and the blue n yellow outfit wove its spell in “morni baaga ma”? when Sri drives away in a car with unshed tears? When he places the necklace on her neck? The moments are endless, each one more magical and heart rending than the other.(Paras, Nehru Place, Del)

Baahon ke Darmiyan…the sheer sensuality of love, tender kisses, rain on the windowpanes, the tears and the passion, Manisha's scared, needy eyes, Salman's softness. (Tribhuvan, Majestic, Blr)

Leo was in the water, freezing to death. And Rose was on the wood plank, watching him die. And I sobbed into my hanky. And sobbed. And sobbed….(Chanakya, Del)

Ripples appeared on the surface of the water in the glass. From far off, a horrifying sound came. And the flooring under the seat trembled. Moments later, we all gazed open mouthed as the T-rex ran roaring after the trapped children. A few reels later, we clutched at each other when the preto (whatever..) jumped up through the gap in the steel floor. Excitement was forever benchmarked as far I was concerned. (Plaza, MG, Blr)

A nationwide hysteria was building up and I was only too happy to be a part of it. I stood in the long queue, purchased tickets with the last of my money, sat in the front row and happily mouthed the lyrics of each one of the 9 (10?11?) songs. I giggled at Salman’s wisecracks and cried at Renuka’s death. (Galaxy, Blr)

The movie started. The pulsating rhythm slowly built up into a crescendo of hypnotic beats reverberating through the huge hall. SRK jumped on the train and it was all I could to resist doing the same on the seats. (Chanakya, Del)

Mini sized theatre smelling of sweat and tobacco. I went there again and again and again. To get my fix of laughter. “mera naam crime master gogo hai” still has the same effect. (name forgotten, Majestic, Blr)

Trinity rose like a rexine coated eagle, hands apart, eyes pierced, legs positioned for maximum damage. Hard rock played in the background, the entire theatre sat stunned in silence, the man from ludhiana slept in the seat next to mine. And another benchmark was set. (PVR, Del)

Christmas Carol

Amidst the clutter that surrounds the soul, it seemed almost like an omen when the first thing I read on Saturday morning was “to love is to create beauty”. And so, in this Christmas weekend of “contrived gaiety, artificial lights and noisy revelry”, I didn’t crowd Jesus out.

There was U, whose pain was mine when he cried. And whose happiness was mine when he laughed.

And Divya, tired and bruised, who appeared to have found peace at last in the little bundle beside her.

The somber sight of the blood filled tube in her leg caught as much attention as the comfort of the shoulder that D offered S.

Dai ja whispered to a heartbroken Pooja “hawa ka rukh beti, hawa ka rukh” and captured the games that the wily heart plays with the innocent soul. Viren’s eyes spoke the language of hidden love when he asked Pallavi “kya main aapko aapke naam se pukar sakta hoon?”

8 hours of conversation, of a connection unexpectedly discovered. Of uncovering N, of being uncovered. Not shying away.

An afternoon of Mmmmm….indulgence and secret pleasure and heartbreak.

2 cups of filter coffee, plastic chairs and D. No pretensions, direct talk

Yes, the gift came “wrapped in foils of hardship, pain, affliction and sometimes even disgrace”. But I opened it. And after many months, the heart was not lonely.

Romance in December

Eons ago (actually 16 months ago) I had posted about some of my favorite romantic numbers in Hindi. Today while driving to work, I suddenly realised I had missed out 2 crucial ones...here's the updated list -

Yeh Vaada Raha" - a smile on your face, mischief in your eyes, sunshine all around, the kind of song that is 'our song'!

"Bahon Ke Darmiyan" - slow, deep bliss ; being a part of one another ; whats there on your face? Is it the rain or tears?

"Jab koi baat..." - a pleasing tune, easily hummable. simple, poetic lyrics that dont make you stretch. sung with a slight smile and genuine emotion

"Woh pehli baar.." - sheer exuberance of first love, all the ecstacy without the pain

"Na to karavan ki talaash hai.." - never mind that I dont understand one third of the words, I totally understand the song. The passion, the detailing...the mix of love n faith n spiritual angst...the technically perfect singing. This song defines bliss for me.

"Yeh kahaan aa gaye hum..." - on the surface, a pleasantly tuned typical Hindi film song. But listen carefully to the tone of Lata's voice at some points, its bittersweet. Hear the words which Amitabh uses, he's in love and he's angry as well. This is a song that you can hum and think about at the same time.

To start the day...

The most appropriate quote for a bluesy Monday morning...

"Normal is getting dressed in clothes that you buy for work and driving through traffic in a car that you are still paying for - in order to get to the job you need to pay for the clothes and the car, and the house you leave vacant all day so you can afford to live in it " - Ellen Goodman, American journalist

Hot Hot Hot

Am still waiting for the engineer to come ("come"...hee hee..) and decided to cheer myself up by posting a list of Hot Hot Hot people (yes, its to be said like that - 3 times)...this is in no particular order, of course.

Paul bettany
Johny depp
Joaquin phoenix
Adrien brody
Marisa tomei
Michelle Pfeiffer
Uma Thurman
Sushmita Sen
Catherine Zeta Jones
Rahul Bose
Rahul Khanna
Arjun Rampal
Matt damon

Blah

In typical Me style, I have gone out every single day of the week, but today on Friday will go straight home and watch TV.

Am totally exhausted (thanks to last evening's discovery called Irish Flag - a shot of vodka/irish cream/creme de menthe combined)

Had loads of work today...have just a shitload of mails to be finally be able to get control of my to-do list...only to get a shitload of undeliverable messages due to some unknown reason. Am now waiting for a engineer/angel to descend to my humble abode and unveil the mystery of life (i.e why is my mailbox weird?) so that I can finally LEAVE!!!!

I have to work tomorrow as well. why? because i worked slowly today so i wasnt able to complete my work. why did i work slowly today? because....

Blah.

Vulture

Made a new friend yesterday - N.

Fresh meat. he he....:)

Got my eye on 2 more. Target - end Jan.

Mysterious facts

(warning - the interesting title is where it stops. This post is as boring as all previous ones)

Its Sunday evening, I am pleasantly buzzed. It’s a combination of inadequate sleep last night, irregular food today, a cheerful afternoon and of course, the three (or four) drinks I had at FP in the evening.

True to the tradition of semi-autobiographical ramblings in this state, established by numerous friends and acquaintances, I hereby submit my contribution (that will be read through and assessed (and sneered at) in a more sober state of mind in a few days...or months)

Facts -

1. When it comes to people (and with me, it invariably does), I would instinctively say that I prefer long term relationships and so on. And yet so many ghosts walked with me when I went for a stroll – avijit, meet, ruchika, shefali, vicky and several more. Intense connections that somehow didn’t survive. The unlikely did survive though – sid is one example. Mystery.

2. I have never had a serious relationship, a formal date and never got drunk. More mystery. This one is simpler, though. The linkages are easy to establish

3. I get turned on by nice hands, sensitive eyes, a civilized voice and a love for rhythm. Pretty faces, hot bodies….yawn. Solid talent….yeah. Yes, I am an alien. The only mystery is how I reached here

4. I kept trying to change myself. And I thought I changed. Then I realized I had just changed at the surface and screwed myself in the bargain. So I started being myself again. Soon enough, being myself made me want to change again. But I had burnt my hand once, so I struck a bargain with myself – I will pretend to have changed but not try to convince myself any longer. Throughout this, there wasn’t that much change in my behavior so no one really had a clue to this internal madness and hence the entire mind games were pretty much redundant anyway. Its now at a stage when even I am not too sure where I stand any more. I do find it funny, unfortunately the humor just reinforces my cynicism. It also causes the disaster eve with M. 2 mysteries - why the disaster?? (answer - god help me). And why the linkage between all this "change" analysis and M?? (answer - ha...go figure)

1 hr allowed, content controlled

Safe, sanitized communication. Controlled environments. Emotions kept at bay. The soul guarded. Clock ticking away. Exit option always available. Extension option rarely available.

I could let my distaste surface and indulge in nostalgia....when two people spent time together, did things, talked, connected.

Or I could ignore the past and accept the present with a smile. The tools (sms, car, list of restaurants, perfume, interesting anecdotes) are ready, the body willing, the mind torn, the soul silent.

hi how r u

"hi how r u"....."fine, how about u"...."cool"...."u heard something funny....?"...."nice movie"...."what plans for the weekend"..."my boss is a *%&*$#"...."he looks good"..."doesnt she look cute"..."nice clothes, where did you get them"....in online chats....emails....long distance phone conversations....short distance phone conversations...sms exchanges...dinner/lunch conversations...coffee chats....over-drinks bonding.....

so many channels, so many intersections, so many words, so little said.

Cynicism and Cheer

I wish I could come with better subjects than the types which are a direct reflection of what my post is all about. But then thats how my communication usually is - quite simple and direct. I realised this during the seminar too - unlike so many presenters I admire, I am rarely able to weave a story around any presentation and make it more entertaining. My presentations are usually content dependent and since the content is usually quite staid, the delivery is pretty straightforward.

Anyway, this post is not about communication styles...its about 3 unrelated incidents yesterday which left me feeling miserable. Of course, the sense of misery probably won't come through because I am feeling much better today, thanks to a Shaan special on radio today morning....he always brings a smile to my face!

Mum mailed sending a detailed view on how anjan's and dolly's discussions are going regarding their future plans. Keeping in mind current financial situation/future savings/job opportunities/baby plans etc., they will most probably be staying in Dhk for another 2 years. Naturally no one is actually happy about this decision, but what needs to be done etc etc. Why is this upsetting? Because recent incidents have left us feeling even more insecure and I would like to be around the people I love the most and because this impacts my plans for staying in Blr/Del or somewhere else and because this is linked to so many other thoughts n fears n apprehensions that I dont even want to go down that path....

I had my PM rollout yesterday and decided (masochist me) to make it less about process n timelines and more about discussion on PM principles etc. As a result, probing questions during the presentation revealed a TL declaring that he hadn't seen his DP for 2 years; 100 people admitting that they haven't looked at their goal sheets for the past 4 months; another employee declaring her belief that the elements of SA, GS and DP in the PM process could be done away with and we could just focus on the ratings part; and barely 20% of the population murmuring a soft "yes" to whether PM process adds any value to them or not. Why upsetting? The perception of PM process as a formality; the non realization of the potential of the PM process as a potent career tool; the reaffimation of my increasing cynicism around HR Ops; the implied failure of our managers to build quality in the process.

Deliverables around communication assigned to C, N n A. None of them met, no revert either. This despite reiterating the criticality of these tasks, despite the advance notice of a week, despite knowledge of the consequences. Why upsetting? The team hasn't learnt; there continues to be lack of sync in value system and work ethic; the credibility of the team itself is in question.

The precursor to this day was my observation over the weekend which I had described in the previous post - about people just scratching the surface of others' realities (this is arguably one of the worst sentences I have ever written, or anyone has ever written). These 4 together strike at the very heart of my current mindscape - family ties; passion about work; leading teams; people/relationships. These incidents/observations strike and explode and leave me wounded, the hopes/fears/apprehensions/depressions unveiled and exposed. To be confronted and tended to. I have a feeling that's what the next year is going to be all about. M got his answer.

Extremes - within and around

My 2nd Bombay trip in as many months and the effect of the city remains the same, despite the fact that I spent hours each day just commuting. I don’t think the fascination can be explained by the standard words – the energy, the enthusiasm, the work ethic, the night life. When I feel a sense of comfort even in an area which is jammed with cars, swimming in pollution and throbbing with get-set-go youngsters, I know that there needs to be some other reason that prevents me from hating this place! If this had been a novel (especially penned by a young Indian writer), I would have undertaken a journey (that the blurb would have described as “a spiritual pursuit”) that would led me to the discovery of having been born and brought up in a stinking by lane in Bandra in a previous life. There would probably be a cat there that is immortal and remembers me when I walk in through the rusted gate (everything in Bombay rusts).

Anyway, for some time I actually seriously evaluated the option of moving to Bombay next year instead of Delhi, if Dolly and Anjan don’t come back. The seriousness of these intentions was vastly reduced when I landed in Bangalore, “twenty degrees and very pleasant” in the words of the Jat pilot. However, this is probably the reason I seem to getting an itch to move to Bombay…the comfort zone I have developed in Bangalore…and my current role. There’s nothing wrong in being comfortable except that I have grown to firmly believe (through unfortunate experience) that difficult times are usually around the corner and this current sense of comfort will make me a “softie” and hence ill equipped. I like the way my insecurity about myself falls in love with my wary view of the world and conspires to keep me paranoid at the best of times. Only the Paranoid Survive, as a management book (exceedingly popular when I was in B-school; naturally I never read it) informs us.

The people interactions too were more or less pleasant during the trip. The seminar itself I don’t want to write about, I have too many observations to note and none of them earth shattering. But the state of juvenile delinquency that Venkat and I were reduced to was great fun. It brought back school/college times, except that now we were indulging it at a seminar in a 5-star, surrounded by professionals from other companies, for which we (i.e. our company) had paid Rs.12500. The Thursday night out was also great fun, though it was slightly marred by my state of sleep deprivation and exhaustion. We roamed around town, on foot and in cab, had great food n drinks at different places, finished with an ice cream and took a train back to our guest house.

Friday was a little disappointing, when I met V for a shorter time than expected. However, it was pleasant enough – coffee followed by a walk through Bandra. All was as expected – the passion, the humor, the acute observations and the tendency to live and think and breathe in extremes, which I guess is a typical big-city trait. Its there in Delhi too, but in a different way. There the extremes are more lifestyle oriented – the over gregarious, wealth displaying types and the more middle-class, equally gregarious and desperate in equal measure types. In Bombay (and increasingly in Bangalore), I find this extremity coming through more in personality types – the mature, values-driven, experienced ones who are also very boring and the cool, fun, interesting, been-there-done-that types who lack emotional depth and maturity. Though this sounds like sweeping generalizations, they are not meant to be. I am not saying that people are like this, so compartmentalized….what I am saying is that people tend to graduate towards one of these ends of the spectrums. In a way, the current generation is as merciless in demanding stereotypes from its own as the much-berated previous generation was. Except that nowdays they are smart enough to package even its stereotypes into items that scream “individuality”, never mind the reality inside. Come to think of it, who cares about reality anymore? Its all about projection. Even when relative strangers like V and I meet, is it really about sharing reality with another person or is it more about telling the other person about the reality you want him to see? It’s all becoming one huge exhibition where everyone is busy selling themselves without bothering to look at the other. This is quite a depressing train of thought and is probably the reason why I feel incredibly low this weekend.

Sid n J was ok…a good coffee-lunch-dessert routine saved the afternoon from being a disaster. Disaster because both of them tend to go towards one of the extremes described above; disaster because I would like to get along better with Sid but he doesn’t allow me to; disaster because I was basically quite depressed about the various thoughts in my mind about people; disaster because it was hot (which always gets me irritated); disaster because Sid n J themselves didn’t much have chemistry. Considering all the potential for disaster, Saturday ended up being unexpectedlt pleasant and Bombay filled (as J obliged my cravings by driving through the most obscure lanes in Bandra-Mahim-Juhu!), not to mention food that lubricated the way!

And today I am in my bed, reading-eating-typing. Ahead lie chores (straightening up the house, grocery shopping, laundry) and an evening out with M. That shall bring along its own baggage of thoughts and emotions, so I am glad I have exorcised thru this post some of the baggage I have carried for the past two days.

While I have spoken about the extremes around me - cities/culture/people - I am constantly reminded of the fact that the world around us is a reflection of ourselves...there is no absolute reality, because our view of the world around is dictated by the view of our own selves.

Two poems

I just read the poem on V's blog...was reminded of another poem that I read recently that affected me so much. Somewhere in these two poems lies the beginning of the answers to so many questions...

In Despair

He's lost him completely. And he now tries to find
his lips in the lips of each new lover,he tries in the embrace of each new lover
to convince himself that it's the same young man,
that it's to him he gives himself.

He's lost him completely, as though he never existed.
He wanted, his lover said, to save himself
from the tainted, sick form of sexual pleasure,
the tainted, shameful form of sexual pleasure.
There was still time, he said, to save himself.

He's lost him completely, as though he never existed.
Through fantasy, through hallucination,
he tries to find his lips in the lips of other young men,
he longs to feel his kind of love once more.

Konstantinos P. Kavafy (1923)

The Tree of Song

I sang my songs for the rest,
For you I am still;
The tree of my song is bare
On its shining hill.

For you came like a lordly wind,
And the leaves were whirled
Far as forgotten things
Past the rim of the world.

The tree of my song stands bare
Against the blue --
I gave my songs to the rest,
Myself to you.

Sara Teasdale

Assorted

27th Nov 05

The title reminds me of one of my most memorable moments ever…in may 2000 I was suffering through my summer internship with sidharth being my constant crib partner. After a particularly depressing discussion on one hot, very hot, afternoon, I opened my door to see him standing there with a big box of chocolatey stuff…all my favorites – doughnuts, pastries, fudge etc. He drove all the way from faridababad, got me the goodies, stayed a pleasant hour and then left leaving me feeling much much better. Till date, when I am really down, this memory brings a smile to my face.

A smile was farthest from my mind today morning when I spoke with betu n then mami for a little while. Their depression, their sense of being lost, is saddening. What’s more saddening is the lack of strength and maturity that prevents from really moving on…from building good relationships…from leading a healthy life. I am also amazed at the anger and bitterness that erupts, and that it’s towards mama! What a contradiction – a man universally regarded as warm, loving, everyone’s “best friend” and yet the object of so much negativity, in his life and after. I cant stop crying as I write this, yet I cry not for him, not to call him back…but to reassure him that I am fine, I am all right even though I miss him so much….because I know he will be worried, as was daddy. I remember there was a lot of anger and bitterness even within me in ’97, but was it so bad? And I am sure none of it was directed against daddy. Of course, there was a lot of negativity while he was around, which I regret to this day. Oh god…why I am going down there. I will stop now and move on to other stuff. Cant afford to spend Sunday on such a note...

I have often accepted that unlike books and movies, my musical tastes are more dependent on memories and associations. One area of music, however, where my soul asserts its independence is in songs that really really get me moving….some of the my favorites that I can remember include – Cant get you out of my head…Superstar…That thing you do…Voulez Vous…Daddy Cool…Mundian nu bach ke rahin...I want your sex…It’s a time to disco…Koi kahe…I shall post more when I remember them.

I like the way Van Heusen and similar brands keep selling exotica…in today paper’s they have an Indian dressed in tweed, exhorting fellow Indians to go to the derby! Sometimes I wonder if we really make a realistic assessment of the quality of some of these garments before getting lured to buy them. Its like looks…anything foreign is good. This doesn’t just hold true for us firangi-mad Indians but for firangs themselves…anything Indian is always “beautiful” (said with a sharp intake of breath and a look of unreal happiness in the eyes, as if they have just entered willy wonka’s chocolate factory). Hence, men and women and clothes (yes, they are all objects) which would be considered perfectly ordinary or sub ordinary here get transformed into “beautiful” when marketed (by self or others) abroad.

My fascination for books on Hollywood led me to buy a coffee table “Vanity Fair’s Hollywood” last evening at the Strand sale, setting off a wailing red alert on my bank account (it’s the last week of the month!). I would love to get some books on bollywood too, but everything on this subject appears tacky and ill written. Very sad. Not that I have too many books on H either..other than reviews by Lane and Ebert, just two or three more. But I hope to build up the collection. What IS being built up is my “retirement fund” collection of books…I now about 25 books waiting to be read. And that’s just normal fiction….I would love to read more – history, travelogues etc. – but how??when??!!! is it possible to be well read when you work 11-12 hours a day, also love movies and going out, and have plenty of relationships to keep you involved???

Anyway, after a very long time I have started a book that had me completely engrossed – Family Matters. Surprisingly…because I don’t normally like IWE. But then, Mistry is not strictly an IWE like the others. He belongs more in the Rushdie, Tharoor category which I do enjoy.

Watching A Good Woman yesterday was a bit like reading Indian novels – nice concept, interesting characters, good lines (thanks to Wilde), but all so badly put together that it just doesn’t have the right impact. Again, potential lost. As I keep repeating like a parrot, nothing is more depressing than the loss of potential – in works of art, in people, in relationships.

Silly week

I have developed a fascination for the typical Rinku phrase "silly boy" and use that and its variants pretty often now. It makes me sound like someone out of a David Dhawan movie who wears flowered shirts and I will probably need to tone it down soon. In the meanwhile, its my tribute to my ex-boss who i miss A LOT.

Anyway, the point of titling (is that a word?) this Silly Week was because its been precisely that - silly. Why?? Some reasons...

> I have spent a major (I refuse to define major on the grounds that my company may fire me) amount of time gulping down (NO other word for it...this is like me and chocolate ice cream) V's blog. The similarity also lies in the fact that both (choc ice cream n reading blog) leave me feeling as guilty as the dog who polishes off the uncooked food in the kitchen...the blog reading is also accompanied by bonus feelings of envy and inferiority - why?why?why cant i be smart n cool n funny etc etc etc.

> I have not completed even 50% of the work I was supposed to complete. Which means...I will work on weekend...I will endure dirty looks from Ops in next week's review...I will go tense and mad and make my team cry next week....and I will suffer from huge guilt pangs when I go to bbay

> I have been thinking n thinking n thinking some more about all the work drama in my life...the role change, discussions, the instinct vs brains dilemma, the role that work plays in my life, the new team....ooff!!!! i have a headache...and more importantly, i have the realisation that I better get my life into perspective before i actually become a workaholic, somehting that I just laugh off nowdays (friends who have been telling me this for some time....NO, U CANT SAY "i told u so")

> My obsession with chemistry/relationships etc etc continues without showing the slightest inclination of putting it to practical use. Either I am still deeply scarred (and even in my most self pitying moments, I know its not true!!!) or I am a coward (sneaky self suspicion) or closed (as close friends kindly put it) or just plain dumb (the highest probability)

Well...silly week or not...its done...now coming this weekend - Strand book sale (addition of at least 20 more books to my "for retirement" kitty)...movie (A good woman - i love oscar wilde)....assorted lunches/dinners (NO new places i am sure, why cant people experiment any more?)....Pooja's sis wedding (boring, boring, boring)....

And yes, not Viki's wedding. Too...icky...uncomfortable somehow. For reasons best left unexplored

Shadows n Sunlight

Have just finished watching Wimbledon, a lovely romantic comedy. I really like it when I come across an unexpected piece of good stuff. This movie was one, its stars too – Kirsten Dunst should do more such roles than the dreamy-wispy characters she specializes in nowdays, especially post Spiderman. Paul Bettany I got a taste of in The Reckoning…this was 180 degrees different from that role and he excelled here too. Okay, excelled may be stretching but he brought a level of credibility to the role that I cant imagine the other toy boys doing….except maybe Matt Damon…but then he’s not your average toy boy either.

It’s a Tuesday afternoon and I am sitting at home watching a movie. It’s a refreshing change…I have taken off today, was not feeling too great. Physically and in a way, mentally too. There’s just been too much recently on the mind, I guess and I just needed some time off. It’s a gorgeous day, MY definition of gorgeous – cloudy, slightly wet, chilly. I have been on calls, then saw this movie. Will probably spend the afternoon reading “the way we were” (an overdose of romance?) and then go to L’s place in the evening for more conversation and movies.

I really wonder the roles all these elements play in my life – movies..books…even my work - sometimes distraction, sometimes inspiration, my savior in times of need, my source of identity, my entertainment, my livelihood. Is there a link between the growing significance of these elements and my (seemingly) decreasing interest in romance of any sort? How much is appearance and how much is reality? How much is instinctive and how much is controlled? Have I really been able to coach and train my mind into submission or is that an illusion itself? Of if it’s a reality, what does that say about the so-called freedom of mind that I supposedly believe in? Is this something like the inherent contradiction about singers whose words are about love of love and hatred of materialism and who have multi million contracts? Unavoidable?

From an academic point of view, I would like to find and explore the answers. But from a survival point of view, I think its best if I don’t. I used to think truth could be absolute and pure, but no longer. Because truth is like the sun, its right there, its inescapable. And I am too intelligent not to acknowledge truth when it stands right before me. Which would leave without a choice. I don’t like that. There should ALWAYS be exit options. The mind needs a refuge.

I wonder if a psychiatrist could actually discover that refuge?? Or rather, guide me to it?? I am sure I could manage on my own too, if I put my mind to it. But as I told unni a little while, I would rather let those shadows remain just that – shadows.

One thing that’s certainly not shadowy in any way is the choice which I am faced with at work, though the way its turned out, I no longer have a choice. I wanted to move out, spoke with all the right people, found the most appropriate (not the best) role, and then made the mistake of talking to LC about what’s wrong with the team. That got converted to a discussion on “what we need to do to make it right” to “you need to stay to make it right” to “why don’t u stay” to “you have to stay”.

I normally wouldn’t even document such choices – because usually the choices are about doing what my brain tells me to do and what instincts tell me to do. And I go by my instincts, which has caused me heartburn personally, but stood me in good stead in my academic/professional life (sounds contradictory, right? Sigh…just add it to the list). But for the first time, I think I will need to go by brain in this case. Staying where I am will get me up the ladder, build more expertise in my core area, allow me to lead a team of size n level which I normally wouldn’t an opportunity to do elsewhere etc etc. But….i don’t know, I cant even articulate what exactly are the apprehensions. Which is why I am so susceptible to LC’s finely tuned and targeted arguments.

Another front where my instincts have been leading the way so far is my determination to adopt a baby in a few years. I know its tough and I know I will have to think a lot of things through and its probably more practical to take the easier route of just getting married….but. No. This is something I hope I am going to be able to do my way.

Hence the mixed bag of shadows n sunshine that characterizes this day. As I sit on the bean bag, “what if god was one of us” plays on TV, the rain falls steadily outside, “the way we were” waits…as I miss U…and think about M…two ends of the same spectrum.

People..again

The “again” in the subject line is delivered in a tone of mild irritation. Though I appear to have opinions on practically every subject under the sun (a disease that I have successfully fought in recent years), I realize that most of my recorded “outpourings” (diary/cassette/blog) barely touch upon topics or issues and are mostly about people.

That said, its with pleasure that I recount this highly “people oriented” week (this sentence also firmly settles my doubts over whether my writing has been corporatised…it has).

First, thanks are due to M for introducing me to friendster. I had absolutely no inclination of taking this seriously ever and had thought this too would die a quiet death like so many others before it. However, my irritation with my environment (more on that later…I hope) drove me to log on daily. For a few days, I got some messages from people I didn’t really want to know. Especially since they were younger to me….cant imagine what conversation I would have with a 24 year old girl from Bombay who was “into fashion designing” (suitably vague)…I guess we could have compared notes on our impressions of the recent wave of sequins permeating every class of fashion, but I doubt that would have been sustainable, even for my shallow half (that of course assumes I have a deeper half…an assumption I am unwilling to back up with fact!). Anyway, after exchanging mails with 2 people who bored me on the second interaction, I decided to see if there were actually people out there who I could connect with. Why I would do that considering that I don’t interact enough with the people I already know I connect with is probably to do with a particular moment when I was bored post lunch/felt the need to connect/there was no friend online/phone calling would have been inconvenient/etc etc. In a movie, this would have been one of those “cataclysmic” scenes (I LOVE this word) pictured in a under rated manner with an over done music score.

The point was – how DOES one find people one can connect with? Went through the search options. Whether someone was man/woman….wanted relationships with man/woman didn’t matter. Being in India was important….didn’t really want to start a connection where establishing contexts itself would take time. What else? The natural choice was obvious, but it took me to time to get to it (the movie scene would probably answer why, if it’s a bad Hollywood movie….I don’t see the relevance and hence will not go into it) – books and movies. Started with books….did any one in India (age between 25 and 35) list Gone with the Wind or Stephen King or Maughaum as a favorite?? A few did…unfortunately their profiles were hardly interesting (which of course reaffirms my belief that I am a literary philistine). Movies, then. Did a check on Dangerous Liaisons…no records found…tried a few others….records aplenty, but again uninteresting ones….finally a fluke….Red/White/Blue….and bingo! There it was ….A (from saadi Dilli)….a list on movies that read like a connoisseur’s selection and a profile that debunked the notion that this could be just a pretence to get attention. Messaged him. I had now tasted blood. Wanted more. But how?? Went down the list of search options again…..what about TV? What did I like most on TV? Other than the new American comedy series, of which I am sure there were plenty of fans, I liked nothing more than British sitcoms. Did anyone else? Yes! And the profile wasn’t fuddy-duddy at all, which means it was as unlike mine as it could get. Crazy snaps, eclectic lists and a introduction that screamed bravado and yet hinted at vulnerability. Again, I messaged.

Got responses from both in a few days….got added on to the yahoo lists…and had chats. Brief summary –

A – hesitant start…exploratory…until we reached the subject of movies. Found a common love and dug in with relish…scattered chats over few days were primarily on this…also realized that we may not have THAT much in common otherwise, but the connection had been established. It was cemented when he gave me the contact details of the person through whom I could source international titles in Bangalore….combined with the sheer joy of this discovery, I was also infected with a sense of wonder at this instinctive generosity that prompted him to search for the details at that very moment and share them with me. Like so many simple gestures, this touched me.

V – no hesitant starts here. Not that I remember every twist and turn, but the 1 or 2 hours spent on this conversation have been the pleasantest I have had for a very very long time. Despite the highly intimidating reading list I found on his blog, I quickly realized that he and I had more in common than just a love for Harry Potter and British sitcoms. The chat reminded of my first meeting with Shalini at the British council eons ago, when we sat in the lobby and systematically discovered ALL that we had in common, despite being very very different people. V is as different from me as the profile suggested and yet I seem to have found a connection that I hope to continue. There is also a curious matter of one of the common links being M, but I hope that that is more a case of a dispassionate interesting footnote (French movie style) than an emotional hinge with potential to derail (Sudeep Ralhan style). However this turns out, I know that I there is at least one thing that’s going to be long term about this – I am going to be a permanent reader of his blog…a piece of writing that provoked laughter and thought in a very Tom Robbins meets Anthony Lane kind of way.

I would like to imagine that both these people being gay is incidental, but that would be stretching it! In fact I had an interesting chat with Shk today on this aspect. Hence, there are 3 more conversations I would like to capture – Shk, D and LC – but as usual, I have to rush for dinner now. Maybe later in the night, if I am alert enough.

Despite the rush, I want to place on record the cringe I suffered as I read through my post above. The bracketed statements and the quote-unquote words are both afflictions I suffer heavily from and refuse to discard. This, along with the steady corporatisation of my writing style, make my blog one of the most irritating and boring I have ever come across.

an unemotional look at changes

(Its actually nice to be able to sit at night in front of the tv and pen (or type, whatever) my thoughts. I hope this will translate into more frequent posts)

Just had a nice long dinner with Shw and then Poo joined us. I was reminded of the various such long evenings that we have shared earlier…surprisingly (and thankfully) it stopped at that and I did not feel enveloped by any further feelings of nostalgic regret. Which leads me to another observation of how I am able to disconnect the different phases of the same day even if I have to transcend significant distances in terms of mood or emotion. Today I have moved from tension in the morning (about role change etc) to depression in the late afternoon n evening (mama, ppl being upset etc.) to quick maddening pace in late evening (end of week-work not complete etc.) to easy relaxation at night. And not just partly, but completely. Something I would NEVER have been able to do earlier…moods or emotions (especially of a negative variety) developed at a particular time stayed for a long time and affected all subsequent events n interactions….much to the discomfort of my close ones! One more area in which my friends had to bear with me was my finicky nature when it came to going out with people. Since coming to Bangalore, this has changed dramatically (much to the relief of some and dismay of others)…I am able to detach my personal judgment of people from my ability to get along with them. I am actually able to go out with people I may not like too much!! The trigger for this was probably quite different (something that a journey through my posts of that time may reveal) but its now quite ingrained in me, and something that continues to surprise people who meet me after a large gap – mum, unni, sidh etc.

Change was also top of the mind as I suddenly decided to go through the archives on my blog. It was interesting that in some cases I could hardly recollect “what the hell made me write that?!” and in others the emotion and thought behind it was as sharp and familiar as the smell of cooking koftas. I also respected myself a little more – I am not as shallow and unintelligent as I nowdays think I am. Good.

Musicology by Prince is playing on MTV. Cool song, very cool video. I wonder when I will stop evaluating music in terms of visuals. When will this change?

upset - connections

I am not sure whats more upsetting.....when I feel the low I go through when I think of mama (which is often), the heart stop in the middle of the day, even the fond memories that have a sad feel.

Or when I feel the low that others i love go through....nanima, betu, dolly, mummy, even mami....each of them so dependent on him in their own way....now so lost....lost in despair that seems to over ride everything else...their pain is sometimes so intense that I would like to feed them all a truckload of prozac to just dull it.....unfortunately, much as I try, i cant be the prozac.

I remember once saying this to unni (in a much much different context)...the pain of the ones you love is more unbearable than your own pain, because of the helplessness....this remains so true even today....

I am off for my own prozac...a quiet dinner with Shw....an episode of Mad Abt You....a long walk...a few pages of a murder mystery...and then sleep.

Chemistry

My obsession with chemistry is starting to sound irritating even to my own ears! Yet this is one word that I find most convenient to use whenever people and relationships enter mindspace, and they do so often.

Whats chemistry? Is it instinctive or developed or can it be both? what constitutes chemistry? what role does it have in founding a good relationship?...all these and many more questions abound to which I continue the quest for answers. When I find them, I shall hopefully write a book and publish it with hoopla. For all the heartburn that this subject has brought me, the least I can do is make some money out of it!

For now, the question uppermost in my mind on the dual nature of chemistry. How chemistry can not just create connections but also cause explosions which in turn derail a relationship or rather never let a relationship to develop. We see variations of this theme in books and movies all the time - ranging from M&Bs to Pride & Prejudice. But the story usually pans out in the positive - the lead characters start by hating each other, indulge in battle of wits n words, start developing a sneaking admiration for each other when they discover they are alike in a lot of ways, fall in love, convert their hate into attraction, fall in love and live happily ever after.

No such luck in real life as far as I can see! It usually appears to work in the opposite direction - people with great chemistry that gets converted to negative energy.

What this translates into for me is tremendous frustration....how difficult it is to find someone who you just instinctively hit it off with, who you somehow connect with....and then how irritating it is to discover that this electricity between you is going to set off sparks totally non-conducive to a relationship (couldn't resist the dramatization...in fact, the subject practically demands it).

I see this in relationships around me - people with great connection with no relationship. Or worse still - people with great connection, madly in love, and bad relationships. For me, off the cuff there are 3 cases....Skr (great chemistry, relationship took off then crashed and now limps along)....Shl (good chemistry, relationship took off, stabilised)....and now M (good chemistry, relationship crashed while taking off).

Very frustrating - 2 good people...intelligent, smart, funny, nice....when they get together, they cant stop talking....yet they are ALWAYS on the wrong side of each other.....and then its The End.

why, God, why????!!!!!

Bombay talking....

Never before have I set out on a much awaited trip with such mixed feelings. I had wanted to go to Bombay for quite some time, especially now that I had friends there. Finally the ideal opportunity presented itself on the diwali weekend – a four day sojourn – just the right period to have a vacation but not get bored. Yet after I had bought the tickets upto the point I boarded the flight, the anticipation was mixed with apprehensions – was I in the right frame of mind to go on a trip? Was Bombay the right place to get away?? Would the relationship with sidharth stand the pressure of continuous days? Would Jassi be the right company?and did I really want to be with people…without an exit option?

Doubts flew away in the intense humid air of Bombay as the taxi bumped towards powai. My arrival at sidharth’s place will always remain in my memory for the sheer feeling of relief that it brought to me. I am surprised at my usage of this word, but relief is what I felt, the relief of encountering with easy familiarity a part of myself that I maybe had feared dormant. The warm greeting, the sinking into the sofa with the shoes off, the instinctive knowledge that beer would be just right, the aimless chatting, the lack of pressure to go somewhere else…yes, the relief I felt set the tone for the next few days, in fact it changed the way I viewed this trip entirely.

After a long time, I spent an extended period of time with a close friend, something which I had probably missed more than I realized. One can argue that the 60 to 120 meetings can bring a level of quality to conversation that is equivalent to 2 or 3 days of hanging around on campus. But that’s a bit like saying that ready to cook microwave food brings the same amount of nutrients that a leisurely cooked meal would. But its not a question of what you get out of a conversation, but what depth it brings to you. And paradoxically, the best way of building depth in a relationship is through companionship that covers in detail the climax scenes of the latest movie and lightly touches on the existential crises facing the participants.

While this brought relief, an entirely different set of emotions was a pleasant novelty. Kabir took over my heart, not to mention time, and how. Somehow taking care of him didn’t feel like work and traveling all the way to Bombay to spend hours chatting with a baby who gurgled didn’t feel wrong. I wont try to dissect this further but suffice to say that this experience strengthened my resolve to have a baby in a few years, not necessarily through the time tested route of marriage. Or maybe I will put myself in shoes of a conservative Indian girl and decide to get married in order to have babies? But that’s for another time.

Bombay itself was what it had always promised to be – a lover who excited and irritated you at the same time! It felt like a false start with powai and its hiranandani gardens that were organized, well finished and aesthetic; it returned in full form in bandra and juhu that displayed the expected feverish energy, carefully underdressed crowds, oblivious to the world lovers, matchbox apartments and clogged roads. Town was glorious, comfortable in its own skin, coolly looking out at the world without a trace of obvious snobbery…soft steel. Even the bright sun and chirpy crowds couldn’t diminish the pleasure of walking around the fountain, looking at century old buildings and plastic roadside products. The visit to jehangir art gallery and café samovar was a pleasant bonus (thanks Shweta) and the mental tribute to daddy in the form of the ferry ride and sea side café was as enjoyable as it used to be. Midnight on marine drive – shabby footpath and badly dressed people – and juhu beach – tacky lights and stinking sea – was love at first sight. Can I please move there?

Now I am back. And I know I will go back for more. After some time, but I will.

Reaction

It's interesting to feel the third-party-observer feeling even in the midst of tragedy, or rather, especially in the midst of tragedy, when emotions - both genuine and farcical - are at full blast and the guard either fully down or fully up.

I shall restrict myself to recording observations about just one person - myself. Even so, laziness and some remnants of inhibition prevent me from a detailed download. What I do instinctively remember, and can pen down, are some snapshots...

The deadcalm on the first day as I reached Delhi..and it continued. I met mami, nanima, betu, ankits...torn inside..yet not a tear was visible. Was I acting on some sort of remote control??

The total breakdown on the second day was unexpected. By then I had assumed that the presence of a large number of "well wishers" made me restricted and unemotional at the surface. But on actually seeing him, my tears didn't stop, just didn't stop.

The recovery was as suprising. How the scorching (literally, I had the feeling that my stomach was burning) pain within me and the smile on my face co-existed I have no clue, but coexist they did. I chatted with family, teased the kids, completed required errands, thought about regular food schedules...occasionally burst into tears, yes, but as quickly went back into the smile mode. But unlike previous phases, this was not instinctive. It was what he had done for us in '97 and this is what I did for his family in 2005.

Post that for the next week or so, I just had one pattern to note - when other people cried, I couldn't; when other people were calm, I could. Of course, this was not always the case, but more or less. It explained a lot of times when I remained apparently unemotional in the midst of explosive moments and others when I apparently unexpectedly broke down.

The return to Blr has been as chaotic (internally) as expected. Work has not been the savior I had expected (hoped) it to be, in fact my disenchantment with work has grown to an alarming level. Part of it is probably this irrational anger at the entity called Work that made me keep postponing my holiday so that I hadn't met him this entire year. My behavior has also been mercurial. I have not demonstrated any significant emotion with close ones but actually ended up with an unexpected outburst with M that left him irritated n confused and me highly angry at my uncharacteristic self destructive inflictment of potentially irreparable damage.

Today was the first day I have spent absolutely alone in the past 3 weeks and I have kept myself occupied with phone conversations n household errands. Nevertheless the heart was kept aching by memories that decided to push themselves in the forefront at the most inopportune moments.

I am going to go for dinner with M, and I have no clue how it will go. Its a loss of control that is again, highly uncharacteristic

land of the living dead

I sit in this small room, check my archived mails and burst into tears every few moments. I call up people just to hear a friendly voice and distract me from the images that keep floating in my head. I hear Mama's voice every so often in my ear and I want to turn around and see him standing there with a wry smile on his face. I also want to suspend my disbelief and internalise the fact that he's gone. I dont want to work, I dont want to talk about people agenda and flyer updates and communication portals. I dont want to be unoccupied either. I dont want to read or watch movies that may make me think or feel. I shudder at the thought of the next few days. I am worrying about the people I left behind in Delhi and how they are dealing with it and what they are thinking. I am worried about mummy getting back to dhaka and sitting alone and then internalising what's happened and then going into depression. i miss L n U, both of whom understand perfectly what I am going through and both of whom are not available, L for a week and U for some months. I dont look forward to putting a plastic smile and telling everyone i am fine, i do look forward to hearing some gossip which no one seems to have. i just want him back. i just want him back.

Late nights

Its 11:30 pm and I am still in office, compiling data. A few weeks ago I was entering data. Sometimes (actually, quite often) I feel I am on a treadmill....running but never going anywhere.

Naturally I will not sleep as soon as I reach home. I will potter around, watch some TV, read a little and maybe then my eyelashes (highly unworthy of any aesthetic delight) shall close on bleeding eyes.

Naturally I will not come to work late tomorrow. I will wake up on the first intrusive sound that comes in through my window (and there are plenty of those, sounds i.e.) and I will not linger over the morning cuppa (or the morning pot visit) due to the nagging suspicion that something would soon be landing in my mailbox that if neglected for more than an hour could cause the entire organization to fall apart.

(on a side note - am amazed how I managed to construct the sentence above - its a testimony of how wanna mediocre I can get sometimes)

Basically, I will spend the next 3 days in a zombie like state, end Friday with the hollow feeling of not having really achieved anything much, and start Saturday with an armful of highly exhausting plans for the weekend.

And then I have the audacity to write in a recent questionnaire that what I find most surprising is that people just don't learn from their mistakes.

Its 11:45 pm. and I am not surprised.

Slaps on the face

L got married. Aside from the emotional impact, there was no other similarity to D's wedding, which I had enjoyed a few months earlier. But this is not about L, will save that for later.

Vicky got engaged. "Her name is Divya, she's from Mumbai, 23 years old" was the introduction. "Met on Saturday, decided on Sunday and got engaged on Monday" was the process."Congratulations" was my response on sms.

I dont really want to analyse why, but this annoucement feels like a violation of self. Its like everything I stood for, everything I felt strongly about, has just been swept aside like a dried leaf from the backyard. Its as if all the other marriages - Shefali, Aish, Venkat etc. - have been a stepping stone to this final nail in the coffin. My coffin.

What this brings to mind is a poem that recently became a favorite of mine -

Dirge without Music

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely.
CrownedWith lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.
Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains,--but the best is lost.
The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love, --
They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.
Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave,
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

Chaos

I am sure I have posted this title sometime earlier....

What pervades my life right now is a mix of chaos, uncertainty, irritation and steely determination that would make for fascinating observation if I were not the hapless subject!

Mummy's health, doc visit etc.; Shekhar's visit, kiddo etc.; Car troubles, money etc.; L's round-the-corner marriage, work to do, bad back etc.; loads of work in office, no support system etc. --------all converging in this one week spelling MADNESS!!

I am more exhausted, physically and mentally, than I have been for a long, long time.

Strategy - keep my head down and just survive the storm. It will abate, it always does.

Drive and Wedding

(I think for some reason the last part of my previous post wasn't published....am putting it down again)

Can I dare to articulate what I felt, both while standing on a hill looking at the moonlit valleys and while standing in the middle of a brightly lit reception hall filled with people? Some of the words I can use (while highly aware of their inadequacy) to describe what I felt - the immensely peaceful sense towards the end of getting the puzzle right, of seeing a glimpse of the right picture; the understanding that all moments strive to get the balance right - of chaos and harmony, of relationships within and without, of conversation using speech and silence, of material fulfilment and spiritual struggle; and the incredible feeling of wonder of how people connect.

Drive and Wedding

I had been meaning to post about another highlight of my Coorg trip but just wasnt able to get down to it for the past few weeks. It is strange that a seemingly unrelated event spurs me to do so now....

In the evening (in Coorg), D and I started off on a drive towards a popular tourist stop - Talcauvery (at least i think that was its name), quite apprehensive about how fruitful it would be as it was nearing dusk. It turned out to be one of the best drives I have ever had - we drove on small tarred roads that gleamed in the light falling them on them through the overhead trees, surrounded alternately by coffee estates and thick woods, traversing valleys and hills. Rarely did a vehicle pass, and even more rare was the sighting of a person except when we came upon small villages tucked away. As light faded, the silence grew until the only sound we could hear was the hum of the car and the rush of the wind. We reached the spot which is supposedly the birthplace of the Cauvery and marked by a temple. The temple was silent and empty and dark, and yet not eerie. As we walked towards the main area, we could see the glimmer of the diya and hear the tinkling of the bell as the last puja of the day was performed. In different shrines around the main pond, mute gods sat comfortably, sharing with us history and the wisdom of inner thoughts. The bell died out, the lights flickered out and there was dark softness that enveloped us. The way back was punctuated by stops at curves from where we could see the entire countryside drenched by moonlight and unmarred by signs of human conquests. It was also marked by silence as no conversation could match the simplicity and depth of what we were part of.

D's wedding - 27th April 05 - turned out to be one of the most significant events for me. I had not realised how it would be until at that moment when D & S sat down at the mantap, the priest made the final arrangements and I sensed a tear in aunty's eyes.

The two days were 48 of the most mentally, physically and emotionally exhausting hours of my life! I was the best man (read unpaid flunkey) and my duties comprised being companion to the groom, panic attacks manager, general stylist and fashion advisor, part time driver, room keys in-charge, gift process owner, lunch/dinner guide to the groom's and bride's friends and finally, doli arranger and driver. Each of these areas was of course accompanied by significant manual labor or intellectual stretch.
It would be too ambitious of me to attempt capturing the entire 2 days. As they will be satisfactorily recorded in photographs, I will satisfy myself with trying to capture the strongest impression that I carry, that of D's face, his expressions at different points - as he sat on the sofa so still with tension and overwhelming emotion that I got worried and then he asked "is the thunderstorm an omen"and for once I couldn't laugh; as he saw family dynamics and understood without being told how things often worked and how the surface could be so far from reality; as he glanced at uncle, aunty, me sometimes when he thought we weren't looking as if trying to glean something that would help him understand all of it better; as he accepted compliments with unusually graceful ease and a hint of pride; as he laughed with genuine glee as they cracked jokes on the mantap; as he would remember me in the maelstrom of activity and ensure I was occupied/being looked after; as he glowed (yes, I will not use any other word) with sheer happiness when they stood in the evening dealing with hundreds of guests and plastic smiles. At the end of the day, he was happy, so happy...it was as if a kaleidoscope of thoughts/emotions/impressions/patterns had suddenly come right.

And this is where the relation between these two times comes through, i.e the sheer impact they had on me, the provocation they provided to think and to feel.

Can I dare to articulate what I felt, both while standing on a hill looking at the moonlit valleys and while standing in the middle of a brightly lit reception hall filled with people? Some of the words I can use (while highly aware of their inadequacy) to describe what I felt - the immensely peaceful sense towards the end of getting the puzzle right, of seeing a glimpse of the right picture; the understanding that all moments strive to get the balance right - of chaos and harmony, of relationships within and without, of conversation using speech and silence, of material fulfilment and spiritual struggle; and the incredible feeling of wonder of how people connect.

Weekend - Part 1

Just HAD to get away...thankfully D also felt the same way and we headed off to Coorg.

3 handicaps-

1. A 3 day plan had to be cut to 2 days, as D hadnt realised that he the friend's wedding he had to attend on Sunday was actually in Saturday!
2. It was so hot!! I hate the heat....sooooo non conducive to travel (I know many who disagree with me, but I stand by this, I like to travel in comfort!)
3. D had a cold n fever. His general disposition wasnt helped by the inordinate amounts of cough syrup that he kept gulping down.

I dont need to go into details of the consequences of these handicaps and my (strong) reactions!

Some highlights from the trip....

> A visit to the nearby Abby Falls provided unexpected fodder for amusement. It started with the introductory stone plaque installed near the entrance which detailed the history of the falls along with the very matter of fact statement "Several people die on the slippery rocks in these falls each year". D took a photograph to preseve this moment in posterity. Unfortunately it doesnt capture the near hysterical laughter that I succumbed to. We then moved into the trail that looked more like a Karol Bagh thoroughfare with people of all shapes, sizes, caste and creed moving to and fro chatting about practically everything under the sun (literally). Turning a corner, we finally came upon the would-be-majestic-in-the-rains-sight of the falls. Right opposite the falls is a suspension bridge over the non-existent river. This scene is drenched in sunshine and humanity. One can spend half a day on the bridge, gazing at the falls and the pool below and safely hope to complete an entire assignment on pyschology, the sea of humanity is so vast and varied. It also fuels our amusement - the bunch of pot bellied, moustached gentlemen cavorting loudly in the tiniest of briefs, staring at the gori mems; the reddy/rao family of flower-decked matrons determined for all to have a good time and scrawny, screaming children as determined to find a path to hell; the teenage romeos with reluctant juliets getting each other wet in the hope of recreating movie - like romance; the foreign mixtures of black & white with fixed smiles and ready cameras; the about-to-wed/newly-wed couples more interested in the contents of their Lays packets than conversations with each other.....all in a surreal melting pot of 50 m by 50 m size, filled with muddy green water or slimy brown rocks coated with plastic. All I wanted to ask each and everyone of them was "Why??!!"

Rainbow weekend

Violet - An evening drive with a tired, uncommunicative Vicky (he spells it Viki, like a French teenage girl)

Indigo - a lunch n movie with a thought immersed and absconding-from-home's clutches Darshan

Blue - a long catch-up-n-bitch conversation with Shweta

Green - no water in house, filling buckets through pipes and controlling visits to the loo

Yellow - a ghazal concert with Unni/Hina and a fashion show-cum-drinks party with polite conversations with Hina's colleagues

Orange - quick dinner n movie with ill, drunk flatmate

Red -a long conversation with Shekhar on positivity/vision/relationship damage

Entry/Exit criteria

Sometimes relationships which appeared to be so strong as to have become part of our DNA threaten...to sink. Early 2001 was the first such instance and it very nearly destabilized me. But today I am stronger, and whatever happens with D, I know I can handle it.

That does not make it any less saddening. People come and people go. And I believe in patterns. There must be entry and exit factors which I am unconsciously using. Will need to think through this, instead of posting off the cuff impressions.

Movies!

Thanks to imdb message boards, I managed to compile my "top 20" hindi movies!

1. Lamhe
2. Khamoshi
3. Company
4. Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron
5. Andaz Apna Apna
6. Chaalbaaz
7. Katha
8. Mandi
9 Mr.India
10. Dil Chahta Hai
11. Jagte Raho
12. Angoor
13. Maqbool
14. Rangeela
15. Zakhm
16. Arth
17. Lagaan
18. Black
19. Hum Apke Hain Kaun
20. Abhimaan

Runners up were Satte Pe Satta, Dil Se, Lekin, Raincoat, Jhankaar Beats etc.

The real problem would be if I try to do the same for English movies....the %age of movies liked vs movies watched is much higher......and I don't remember so many movies that I have liked. But will try sometime.....

Thanks to imdb message boards, I managed to compile my "top 20" hindi movies!

1. Lamhe
2. Khamoshi
3. Company
4. Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron
5. Andaz Apna Apna
6. Chaalbaaz
7. Katha
8. Mandi
9 Mr.India
10. Dil Chahta Hai
11. Jagte Raho
12. Angoor
13. Maqbool
14. Rangeela
15. Zakhm
16. Arth
17. Lagaan
18. Black
19. Hum Apke Hain Kaun
20. Abhimaan

Runners up were Satte Pe Satta, Dil Se, Lekin, Raincoat, Jhankaar Beats etc.

The real problem would be if I try to do the same for English movies....the %age of movies liked vs movies watched is much higher......and I don't remember so many movies that I have liked. But will try sometime.....

superstitious me

just yesterday i was thinking that the past 5-6 days have been unexpectedly pleasant. and today have gotten up feeling incredibly woozy n sickish. cant even take off from work as there are critical activities lined up for these three days, none of which can be pushed to the next week.

am currently drowning in pleasurable self pity. would be more pleasurable if there were an audience. sigh. missing nanima.

Sunday bliss

A blissful Sunday is rare, as it should be.

The bittersweet taste of Friday melted into pleasurable lethargy by the time Sunday dawned. House and car cleaned, I sniff without sneezing. An hour of the most hilarious Will n Grace episodes I have seen in a long time. A leisurely lunch, a reaffirmation of relationships. Visits to old haunts, places and memories. Hours at the bookstore, catch up on hollywood gossip and new launches. An evening with 6 magazines and one scandalous/funny book. TV induced vegetation. Start a new murder mystery. Sleep on time.

This rare blissful Sunday is now recorded for posterity.

another mixed week.....

i wonder why i find it irritating that the past week has been so mixed?? thats natural, isnt it...considering the mad roller coasters that we are all perched on? then why this compelling need to find patterns and themes?

anyway, my moods/thoughts/emotions itself have oscillated between happiness/wistfulness/discomfort/introspection/worry/irritation/anger/amusement/cynicism/optimism all this week. no wonder i have a sense of feeling tired....but yes, i admit, a sense of being alive too.

i think the way i have used so many words with slashes in the previous paragraphs is a shameful testimonial to my fast declining writing capabilities. posts on other blogs that i read- bridalbeer, divigate, simplesimon - make me blush with their control of imagery, flow of thoughts and perspectives. and here i am, sinking deeper and deeper into the quicksand of corporate mediocrity.

how many times will i use the word "quicksand"?????? aaaaarrrrrghhhhh!!! i am not only irritated with a lot of other people, most recent being vicky and lakshmi (talk about disparate external locii of control!) but with myself too.

i shall forward to a weekend of books, movies and card parties. note, not conversations. i dont think i want to discuss all of this...mainly because i dont think it makes a shit of a difference to anyone anymore.

Bittersweet

Yesterday was actually a good day. A deck which we had made on attrition and were very apprehensive about, was liked by Lakshmi. Darshan got promoted. And I got a sincere appreciation on mail from our business lead, Ashish for the initiative I am currently running.

However, its rare nowdays that anything provides undiluted joy. The bittersweet nature of this day is derived from my essential sense of discomfort with the way this system of recognition works. From my perspective, I have done a lot of good work which has been very effective at the ground level. But because its very basic level work, which is not branded and neither is a quick win, it doesnt win the kind of recognition that a high-visibility "project" like DSI does. What a silly thing it is - I am proud of "A", but I get recognised for "B". My desire for this to converge could be idealism or arrogance (not that there is too much difference between the two). I guess I just need to be practical, and look at it from the pov that at least i got recognised.

Poems

I find it interesting how different poems evoke a different kind of approach, including...

> poems which you read quickly and think "how nice"...and then a word or a phrase catches your eye (mind's eye?!) and you go "hmm....thats interesting" and then you read it again and the entire meaning moves to the next, deeper level and you realise the poem is an onion
> poems which have a unique perspective to offer depending on what stage of life or mental state you read them in. These poems say something when you are 22 and something totally different at 29. On hindsight, such poems often leave behind a debate on the credibility of the poet. Did he have something to say or was he just a convenient "facilitator"?
> poems which directly touch you, which make their words just a vehicle to make you feel something. In such poems analysis usually yields nothing unique about the usage of phrase or setting of the composition; instead the reaction needs to be completely instinctive. The suspicion on credibility is now reversed, you don't trust yourself after such poems, after all you can't really make out why the hell you have got so affected by something that doesn't actually appear that good.
> poems which make you smile (pleasant reading), while there is a funny feeling in your stomach. Your smile then thins a little as memories flood back ("my memory serves me far too well") and at that moment, you hate the poet, because he has delivered a punch with a smile. Its the Karan Johar brand of movies - no achievement in terms of cinematic excellence but make an impact as he touches the right chords.

I know 2 people who write poetry..

L's output (what an awful word) falls into the third category, but not consistently so. He needs to read more to learn to differentiate quality from mediocrity.

Vicky's is often the last category, which is probably why I have a bitter sweet relationship with him. His persona and his poems often evoke mixed reactions in me.

His most recent creation....

"Kabhi chahat ka tha haseen sama,
Kabhi mohabbat ki hava chali.
Is tan to kabhi chhua tha tumne,
Saath guzaare the suhaane pal kabhi.
Mausam badle kyun hamein ilm nahin,
Aksar sochte hain kya khata ham se hui kahin"

(Disclaimer : I also find this pontification quite silly, as if I am a connoiseur of poetry or something)

Make or Break

Am uncharacteristically mentally unprepared for the week ahead. Tension at work - an audit that will most certainly throw up unwanted Reds, and launch of initiatives that could just flop. In personal life too, cow webs havent cleared. Hence, had a bad weekend.

Back on Top?

After the low last week, have somehow dragged myself to the surface....

> The weekend and yesterday (which was also off) were spent in being out and having a good time....movies, dinners, friends coming over etc. etc. Have kept my mind occupied.
> Have cleared things with L, which is SUCH A RELIEF.
> Sidharth had a baby....and i am VERY HAPPY.

I am thankful for these moments of relief and joy, because a lot of other aspects continue to be dark grey. Darshan....Hina...Vicky...Unni...Mummy.- all keep playing on my mind for different reasons, either for the uncertainty factor, or the pain factor, or both. I hope the cow webs clear soon.

Positivity and Acidity

3 day weekend...madness, laughter, silence and positivity.

And now the week.....acidity, irritation and anger....anger at people's inconsistency between thought - emotion - words - action.....their silliness at being myopic....their malice towards colleagues and ex-friends....their inability to get out of corners they have painted themselves into....

Fuck. Hitting the low now.

Excerpts from the blog posted on 3rd Jan 2004 :

"The year didn't start off too well anyways! 31st was office, a measly dinner, and then home. 1st was a pleasant lunch with old friends, followed by an irritating, tense drive to ISKON and back, followed by a broken dinner appointment, followed by a v pleasant evening reading & eating....all in all, a mix. Is that what the year's going to be? No common thread- just a mix? Mix of what? As Unni said to me, a mix of approaches, not a standardised extremist approach?? (is the tendency to draw parallels becoming too strong?!) Maybe.
For a change, I cant focus on what the theme for the year would be - and maybe thats the indication itself.
One resolution is clear - I have to focus more on myself and my health. Have really let myself go last year, with no thought on what I am eating & drinking. From now on, I will regain my old sense of always having a good mix of indulgence and caution!!"

Thoughts -

> The prediction was right...2004 was a mix, a frenetic, chaotic, delicious mix of experiences and thoughts, with emotions being kept more or less on the backburner.

> The resolution did not work out, as resolutions are generally wont to....."a good mix of indulgence and caution" was not how I led the year!!

> Key "milesontes"- 3 weddings (Dolly, Venkat, Shweta), 5 new friends (Shweta, Venkat, Saurabh, Mohit, Hina), 3 trips (Dhaka, Ooty, Pondicherry), 1 promotion, a lot of parties/photographs/dinners/work output.

> To-do list for 2005 -
(a) Spend less money
(b) Keep weight in control
(c) Start teaching as Visiting Faculty in local colleges
(d) Move to Delhi
(e) Visit Kerala

Set the tone

I am incredibly superstitious about this time....

While I consider the accomanying celebrations as pure frivolous, forced madness, I do consider it as an opportunity to pause and reflect upon the past and define some plans/objectives for the future. Yes, we can do this anytime...but caught as we are in our frenetic, chaotic lives, we don't, do we?

Anyway, I usually try to ensure that the first few days of the year starting 12am, 1st Jan pass such that they set the right tone for the rest of the year. This time...
> had wine and chocolate exactly at 12 am!
> had good, pleasant conversation on 31st eve-1st...
> spent a quiet, relaxed weekend, deliberately avoided reaching out to people and instead spent time alone
> read a fun filled, pacy book...saw 3 movies, two old favorites and one new

Hope this works the trick. Will do a status check in Dec 2005.