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.