Nothing in particular

End

2012-01-02T02:59:00.000-08:00

so many days of the year gone by have left the premises
so many days will occur again and bring with them the gift of deja vu
so many days will speak unnecessarily of things having outlived themselves
so many days will wait with tired eyes for that day to eventually arrive

so many days will walk on to this road with suitcases of joys carefully locked
so many days I will fumble with three key chains confused amidst each other
so many days will write beautiful words over and over again
so many days will write aching words may be once and for all

so many days will tire themselves hearing the same song that no longer is
so many days will be spent sharpening pencils to the bone
so many days will remain in love with darknesses of dreams
so many days will lie through their teeth and keep their eyes quiet

So many days will continue to end.

Happy 2012 in Bangalore

2012-01-01T12:48:00.000-08:00

The Pajero Story

2011-12-25T23:00:00.000-08:00

It was 1996 and I was doing my industrial training at Crest Communications. One day as I walked out of the doors a massive machine sauntered in and made the compound look small. I couldn't believe a car could be that big. That Pajero belonged to Shyam Rammanna the owner of Crest.Soon there was a shoot for Hero Cycles aqnd we were shooting with Sanjay Dutt. I was told to hold his shirt and told,"Now you've been touched by a star!". I enjoyed the shoot and Shyam directed the ad. The shoot ended late and Shyam offered to drive a bunch of us back to the office. So I sat in the back seat with some colleagues. Shyam likes speed. It was 4 am in the morning and there was hardly any traffic on Marine Drive. Ofcourse he hit the gas. My colleagues cap flew out of the open window and we all laughed!
Fifteen years later I'm driving the same car and I love it! God is kind.

Phone camera

2011-12-20T02:22:00.001-08:00

Sometimes the phone camera fucks up and the image ends up looking like this :)

hug

2011-12-19T04:46:00.000-08:00

a few words about these days

2011-11-28T00:05:00.000-08:00

small flags flutter in the gentle breeze.the mild sunlight glows through lovely green leaves at the window sill. the sun comes out and shines on the city as cars whiz by. A few white blooms and soft notes of a flute amidst many many words. What would I do without words?

Driving and designer bags

2011-09-27T14:45:00.000-07:00

So I got my license eons ago but I didn't dare to drive alone for the longest time. Anshuman is a wonderful man but he is very protective when it comes to driving. Somehow he thinks I would be reckless on the road which is far from the truth. For the longest time I only drove with Anshuman in the passenger seat and often ended up really stressed trying so hard not to make a mistake. I asked him several times if I should try driving alone but cautious as he is about my safety the answer was always a negative.
So one day while I was on a holiday and unable to go to India because my visa was in transit I decided to take the plunge and drive to my office alone. My heart beat fast when I changed lanes and I kept checking the speed not wanting to go overboard in my first attempt at driving alone. When I reached the interchange of course I tried to change lanes and people honked at me and gave me dirty looks but I persisted and resultantly got lost for a while. I sweated and fretted about how to get back on to the main highway called the sheikh zayed road. And I did get back on it and I did get to office and parked perfectly at a 60 degree angle. And then I smoked a congratulatory cigarette and came back home.
My legs were shaking with the excitement by the time I got home. I had not told anshuman about my little adventure and I was so thrilled and proud when I did tell him. I knew if I had asked him first he would never have agreed. So the lesson is that you have to take the risk. Face the danger. The most that can happen is that you will have an accident and die and God forbid if you do then it is just your time. I mean i don't want to sound morbid but if you don't take chances and if you don't test yourself it would be hard to achieve things that you dream about and are just too scared to go for it!
So now I know how to go to my office and back. How to go to ibn battuta mall and back. Recently I went to mall of the emirates and got hopelessly lost while trying to get back to office. Anshuman later said I am like abhimanyu in the Mahabharata, I know how to get to mall of the emirates but I don't know how to get home from it. Anyway the point is the more I drive the more I get comfortable and gain confidence.
I still get lost sometimes but that doesn't scare me. In fact I look forward to the 25 minute drive every morning when I listen to music and really relax. Driving has now become dare I say almost therapeutic. I wish I had had the guts to go out on my own earlier but the better late than never.
You must be wondering about the rest of the title of this post. I have seen many Louis Vuitton and Gucci bags and frankly they fail to turn me on. I believe unless you fall in love with something that expensive it is of no point to make a real effort to possess it. I happened to go to the Carolina Herrera shop. Actually I saw a bag in the shop window and I had to go in and see it. As it turned out it was a Carolina Herrera shop. The bag I saw was brown in an amazingly soft material that I caressed lovingly.
There were so many beautiful bags that were so out of my league financially that I walked out of the shop wistfully. I have to admit that the sales staff was very very polite and helpful and friendly and I was happy I had decided to walk in.
So I thought may be I should check out Louis Vuitton as well since they are supposed to have great stuff. So I went in. I hated the bags. They were the dirty brown colour of a shit. I mean I'm sorry guys but you're paying for shit. The sales woman was a snotty conventionally beautiful, immensely tall complete and thorough bitch who gave me the most snobbish look I have ever seen.she told me the price of a shiny blue large bag which looks like it was made out a material that sofas are made out of sometimes in some peoples home that have gross bad taste, it's called rexine. Awful. The designs were shit and the prices were bigger shit.
So I decided to walk in to Dior. The designs were not that great but the staff was nice so I won't rant and rave about it.
All in all I think I would like to get a Carolina Herrera bag but I have no idea how in hell I could justify the cost!

Dubai, city of life

2011-08-07T01:30:00.000-07:00

There's a movie called 'City of Life'. It's about a few threads of stories that happen in the city of Dubai. It truly is the city of life.I've been here for the past five years and have grown leaps and bounds along with it. When I came here we used to live in Sharjah and visits to Dubai were few and far between. I couldn't really recognize much aside from the 'pointy buildings' the Emirates Towers. They were after all the tallest buildings in Dubai at one point before Burj Khalifa towered above all else.
I love the fact that it was here that I started my humble career as a writer and the opportunities I got here have made me the happy person I am today. I love Sheikh Zayed Road, even more so now because I can actually drive now. I got my license a long time ago but started driving alone to work only recently. It is so much fun to put on some favourite music and drive down. Just follow the big ass bus or enjoy changing lanes in the disciplined traffic.
Dubai meant setting up our first independent home. Then when we moved to Dubai I got to do up my home all from scratch as the home we live in now is the first we've owned. I'm very proud of my home. I put every little thing in it with my own hands and I love spending time in it. I'm not much of a social butterfly, more of a homebody and given a choice would spend hours reading or vegetating in front of the tv. When I didn't have a full time job that used to happen often but now I look forward to the weekends to be on my own.
Recently our office moved to Sheikh Zayed Road and I have the best view. I can see the cars whizzing by and the trains crossing each other. For some reason I get mesmerised when the trains pass each other and cannot look away. I love the big windows and the light that comes in and illuminates my desk.
I've met so many wonderful people here. It would be difficult to name all of them but it would suffice to say that I've been fortunate. And with that I want to thank this city for changing my life in such a wonderful way.

been a while

2011-08-02T04:42:00.000-07:00

since i wrote anything here. So much has happened since I said something on this blog. Life has changed and it has remained the same. There's little I can share on this forum simply because it is so public. May be I wshould start another blog on which I can write stuff that you won't find if you googled my name.
My latest love is an African Grey parrot. I saw him a couple of days ago in a pet shop next to my office. Somehow I feel a kinship to him. When I tap on the window he comes up and taps the glass with his beak. He is the biggest and greyest bird available in the shop. They say Agrican Greys learn to speak. I would love to take him home but my house is crammed with furniture so I have nowhere to keep him plus he is quite expensive and I can't afford him. For now I go to the pet shop every day and say hello to him and he looks at me with wide round eyes. And taps hello.

some journey

2011-06-27T05:06:00.000-07:00

unrequited love. It remains sweet through the harsh test of time simply because it is never meant to be. It is one of those things that sounds like a dark emotion but is in fact in it's very nature terribly sweet like bitter chocolate. I know this sounds implausible and incorrect to say the least but that's just how it is and anyone who has been in love and not had the courage to say a few words about it will know what I'm talking about.

I was listening to a song by Suzanne Vega after the longest time and this song is entrenched in this very emotion. The sense of wonder about what could have been. There is a perfect song for each day in my book and today this is the one. Suzanne steals my heart so many times and I hope one day I will be able to say a few words to her before one of us is dead.

Some Journey

by Suzanne Vega

If I had met you on some journey
Where would we be now
If we had met some eastbound train
Through some black sleeping town

Would you have worn your silken robes
All made of royal blue?
Would I have dressed in smoke and fire
For you to see through?

If we had met in a darkened room
Where people do not stay
But shadows touch and pass right through
And never see the day

Would you have taken me upstairs
And turned the lamplight low?
Would I have shown my secret self
And disappeared like the snow?

Oh, I could have played your little girl
Or I could have played your wife
I could have played your mistress
Running danger down through you life

I could have played your lady fair
All dressed in lace like the foam from the sea
I could have been your woman of the road
As long as you did not come back home to me

But as it is, we live in the city
And everything stays in place
Instead we meet on the open sidewalk
And it's well I know your face

We talk and talk, we tell the truth
There are no shadows here
But when I look into your eyes
I wonder what might have been here

Because if I had met you on some journey
Where would we be now?

Fifteen years will change you beyond recognition

2011-06-19T03:56:00.000-07:00

Fifth June, Sunday morning, 12:36 pm

2011-06-05T01:16:00.000-07:00

This is such an empty day aside from the soothing voice and music of knopfler's Ragpicker's dream...there is absolutely nothing to do and yet here i am sitting in my chair refreshing page after page that throws up nothing new on the screen. such days should be declared holidays but they never are so here i am. And the day is rolling along at a slow pace and there's nothing that I want to think about. Sometimes a blank canvas is best. Quiet and serene. White and pure.
Ok now I'm writing just about anything that comes to mind and hoping that either I will delete this or hopefully no one will bother reading this absolute garbage. So I started writing the long project further. Wrote about a paragraph and then stopped. I sometimes think I need a holiday. Really badly actually. I think I will write if i have the free time but on the other hand i might invest my time sleeping. one of my friends recently told me that sleeping in a very healing activity. Now that might actually be true because your skin cells actually rejuvenate when you're asleep. But i couldn't care less even if they do. The best thing about sleep is dreams. Amazing, sometimes story like and at other times profoundly disturbing. dreams are the stuff that good sleep is made of. You get the best kind of complicated dreams if you sleep with music or tv on. The sound seems to stimulate the mind and you see the most fabulously complex images that are beyond your comprehension. The thing is you don't have to comprehend everything. Just experience the emotion. experience the disturbance and stay with it a while if you can. There's more truth about your mind in dreams than there is in your wakefulness. So go. Go to sleep. and dream.

Boxes

2011-05-29T00:15:00.000-07:00

I've been asked more than once why I love boxes so much. I have them in all shapes and sizes with a plethora of things stored away in them. Recently I was looking for some papers and I opened up my old suitcase to find a shoebox full of memories we all seem to have. It has some pictures, some old negatives and a Hi8 cassette. This cassette has a video of a party that happened in one of my college friend's room. The interesting thing is that all of us shared our dreams in that tape. The tape ends with two of my friends chasing a rat and finally catching it. It's really pretty hilarious. This is all from memory ofcourse and I don't even know if this cassette works anymore but I will keep it for posterity.
Ever since I was a child I have kept things stowed away in a box. I spent a lot of time at my maternal grandmother's house as a child. There was a farm in front of the house and I spent a lot of time running around collecting beatles. I thought they were lost and I tried to give them a home in a plastic box. I would show them to my grandmother happily and she used to let them out when I wasn't looking. I could never figure out how they escaped every morning so I went out looking for them again determined to save them.
I collected loose change in match boxes so I could buy new pencils. I've always loved pencils and still do. You could read my post about how I stole a Leo Burnett pencil from a colleague's desk. The post is somewhere on this blog.Now I have a box for make up, for soaps, for jewellery that I never wear, for passports, for keepsakes, for anshuman's watch, for loose change, for stationary items, for anshuman's cuff links, for semi important papers, for important papers, for assorted wires, for bed sheets and pillow covers, for pictures and for things that I can't even remember.
It's the things that I forget that are the most important. When you open a box after a long time has passed by it suddenly brings the past back to your mind in it's full glory. It shows you things you may have forgotten that were once so very important. I try very hard to run from the past. I conciously try never to think about it. I have tried in my life to always live in the moment but nothing can take the place of the sheer beauty of nostalgia. And sometimes I give in and let myself be transported back for a few minutes till I find myself smiling and thinking to myself where did it go?
On a more practical note boxes are great for organizing stuff if you can remember what's in them. Almost all my friends bring me a box back from whichever country they happen to visit. Everyone knows if you want to make Parul happy, get her a box. So Anshuman brought back a lovely small box from Romania. It has three pearls on it and a picture of a little girl. There were three colourful beetles inside who are on my refrigerator now and look like they may fly away any second. So that's about why I have so many boxes. Also sometimes I wonder...may be I collect them because I'm secretive and possesive of my memories. May be...

in love

2011-05-23T03:51:00.000-07:00

to me falling in love has never just been about a man. I've fallen in love with books, music and movies just as much. I feel the same heartache when I hear a song that I might have felt if I was actually falling in love for the first time.At every stage in life there has been a song and I have been in love with the song much more than I have been with the man. It seems to belittle the man but actually I can't help it. The emotions of a recorded voice can move you to fall in love and even do silly things like dance with yourself...alone and happy and the man you're in love with becomes a hazy image limited to an image of the dream you have of him . And then there's the fact that songs, books and movies last for life while a man may or may not. I know this sounds callous but I think it's also true.
Sometimes writers say things in a way that makes you want to believe them. You know that it's just a song or it's just a line in a book but something within your heart wants to believe there's a truth within the words somewhere. I have so much respect for composers, they understand a language that is not only universal, it is also the sweetest of them all. They weave notes that become a part of your heart for eternity and it doesn't matter when you hear the song, that part of your heart comes alive, it aches. it sings and sometimes it dances to a tune it has known for years and years.
Falling in love has so much to do with the song you listen to over and over again till a memory becomes indelible on the notes and then you may try to do away with the memory and listen purely to the words and the notes dispassionately but it takes a long time before you can do that. It's like getting over a deep trauma. Only time can heal you and no amount of objectivity and reality checks will get you through the pain of falling in love with a song.

I'm ready

2011-05-05T00:18:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I want to be able to write the words of the songs but I can't...you can't hear a song by just writing the notes unless you're a composer and have the music in your mind. What can I say, music is like blood in my veins. Sometimes I fall in love with a song and I listen to it over and over again for days and it's just so amazing that there are no words to describe it.
This song is one of my all time favourites. I've been in love with Mark Knopfler for so long that I think I simply forgot about this soulful song by Bryan Adams. If I write down the words, they're so ordinary but when Adams sings them my heart sings with him and I love it. I love it.

the difficulty of happiness

2011-04-14T04:43:00.000-07:00

Yes it's a known fact that happiness is difficult, moody, eccentric and sometimes kind and abundant. In the last few days that have been more difficult than most I have realised that I was happy most of the time. The happiness rarely comes from the things that I pursue everyday. It does sometimes, but rarely. Most of the time it comes from an inner place that I feel connected to. This place is like a garden where my dreams and hopes and desires live and are nurtured by the people who truly love me and myself. It is a place which brings complete emotional security that is a product of sheer love and hope. It has very little to do with the daily circle of actions and reactions of the physical life.
Last few days have been so interesting because I could have been feeling rather sad most of the time but I wasn't. I felt as though I was connected to my inner life, my inner happiness and a vision of a future in which I saw happiness as more or less a permanent resident. I could preach to you and tell you that everyone has this inner place within themselves. Honestly, I don't know. And moreover even though I have found this place, it is not easy to keep in touch with this thing we call happiness. Like I said it is difficult and an illusion. An illusion that can sometimes define your future itself. So today when you look at someone you love remember to tell them this,"Thank you for living in my inner garden of happiness."
And yet, it's so difficult this happiness. Sometimes you can swim to the core of your soul and not find it. Sometimes it bursts forth like a spring through your being.

Getting to know an old song

2011-04-11T01:45:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you hear a song but you don't really hear it. The notes only touch the surface of your skin. And then one day after hearing the same song many times before suddenly there comes a new clarity to the words. The music finally gets absorbed in the pores and begins to flow through your blood. You begin to understand the lyricist a little bit. May be this happens because you need tobe in a certain place in your life for your soul to open up to certain words strung through music.
I've been listening to 'Private Investigations' by Dire Straits for a long time now but these days it moves me like it has never done before. I get lost in the voice and the words. I write this as I'm listening to it. It's sad but somehow rings of reality and truth that most of us try to avoid, by getting busy. With chores, work, life, whatever. I'm not saying don't be busy, I'm just saying let your soul feed on a song sometimes.Here are the lyrics that are touching me these days. Knopfler's voice itself is a song, even when he is just speaking.

Private Investigations
Lyrics- Mark Knopfler

It's a mystery to me, the game commences
For the usual fee, plus expenses
Confidential information, it's in a diary
This is my investigation,it's not a public inquiry
I go checking out the reports, digging up the dirt
You get to meet all sorts, in this line of work
Treachery and treason, there's always an excuse for it
And when I find the reason, I still can't get used to it
And what have you got at the end of the day?
What have you got to take away?
A bottle of whiskey and a new set of lies
Blinds on the window and the pain behind your eyes
Scarred for life, no compensation
Private investigations

And the song ends as I finish this post.

some days

2011-03-13T06:09:00.001-07:00

are so slow that you feel like pushing them towards their conclusion. Today is just such a day when no interesting mails come by and there isn't so very much to do. I have taken to wearing high heels, the ones with a broad base so that there is no excruciating pain. My new shoes are digging into my toes and calluses are on their way. Sometimes I think one can never be tall enough on the other hand people more than six and a half feet look pretty stange to me.
I remember there was a very tall man in Leo Burnett. Once he said hello to me in the lift and I said,"You're very tall." He replied,"Not in Germany." So I guess it's all pretty relative in the end.
I suffer from a variety of ailments which I mostly ignore. The big man upstairs likes to keep my life interesting. I have been told to exercise by two separate doctors.I need to bring my weight down. I would love to start exercising again because when I did do it regularly, I actually enjoyed it and lost a few kilos as well. Now I will have to do it after work and I'm not sure what my level of motivation will be once i get out of the office at six.
I've been trying to write and that gnawing fear of not being a good enough writer eats away at me sometimes though fortunately there are times when I do feel like I can do something worthwhile with words. What would I do if I couldn't write? I'm so thankful every day that I can.

stupid fortunetelling website

2011-03-13T05:42:00.000-07:00

so i went to this website where you can ask yes or no questions and get tarot readings etc. etc.
Here are the yes and no questions

Will I write a book?
No
Will my book get published?
Yes
Will my book be successful?
Yes
Will I be famous as an author?
Yes
Will I murder my husband? (Anshuman asked me to ask that)
Yes
Will my husband murder me?
Yes
Will my husband and I murder each other?
No

Such crap I tell you. But this day has been such a waste of time. I wish I could have wasted this time at home instead of at office but...such is life baby!

one of my favourite pictures

2011-02-21T01:08:00.001-08:00

Wasting time

2011-02-14T02:06:00.000-08:00

It's very important to waste some time during the day or even waste the whole day once in a while. There are many things that I do to waste my time at work. Don't get me wrong, I make sure I work really hard and really fast so that I have some time to waste. It's something I cannot live without. Here are some well known methods of wasting time and some of my favourites.
1. Facebook- 99% of the stuff I do on facebook is a waste of time but it's very important to me.
2. Twitter- it's a complete and utter waste of my time and I'm beginning to like it
3. Smoking- No excuse, a waste of time and a health hazard
4. Doodling- The only really pretty thing I can sketch is an eye. Not two eyes. Just one eye. If I try sketching two they are always out of proportion. Despicable for someone who went to design school. In my defence I stayed away from Graphics and animation.
5. Writing Mark Knopfler lyrics over and over- Ok this may seem like a waste of time but it makes me feel good.
6. Sitting and thinking about...nothing in particular...just letting thoughts roll by like water. That's a true favourite.

Blogging again for some might be considered a waste of time but for me it's like a big journal I'm gonna leave for my grandkids. Although they may not be interested. Who cares I love it!

btw it's valentine's day. so love everybody if you can and be happy.

whining

2011-02-08T03:25:00.001-08:00

ok this post is just to whine about how tired I am and every morning just thinking about my day makes me want to be my own pet dog. I want to eat, sleep,and play and lick my owner. Just imagine how nice it would be if someone took care of you all your life. You could be a baby and be loved by all.

Instead I run after a taxi everyday and send apologetic messages when I get late, then I work, work, work and then I run after cabs that whiz by paying no heed then I run after the bus which does not go to my house but near my house but not walking distance so I run run run after a taxi and then I finally get home then I clean home then I make tea then I feed dog and then sit in front of the TV like there's nothing else more interesting in the whole wide world. I am tired just writing this.

Anshuman is in Kolkata for a few days and I miss his company and being able to call him whenever i feel like. I don't like it much when he's not there. It makes me feel even more tired. I'm getting old very quickly I think. I need exercise and nutritous food and mostly lots of time love and tenderness.

the need to write

2011-02-07T05:35:00.000-08:00

It's like an obsession. I write on the computer, the notebook, the notepad, the diary, dirty cars, paper napkins, post its. I write awareness, health, charity, beauty articles,articles about animals, hollywood gossip, news about animals, about Holiday destinations, my blog, mark knopfler's lyrics (over and over)and I still find some junk to write in my yearly diary.The good thing is that I love most of it, actually aside from the Hollywood gossip I love all of it.

I get to know some great interesting stuff such as two drunk men were stopped by a cop. The cop found that there was a surprising third passenger, a goat. When he asked the men where they found it, they had no answer. All they were sure about was that it didn't belong to them. I found this very funny somehow and laughed for a good minute.

But writing all the time can also be pretty exhausting and aside from taking frequent breaks, I google french bulldog puppies. I dare you not to smile at them. They are just so damn cute. I made a little movie about Ninna with a flip camera. Basically a very small video camera(as big a cell phone) and edited it on Windows movie maker. It was great fun. Now that I am no longer a film maker, I love shooting and editing.

And now I will try to write an article on Siamese cats. Did you know that Siamese cats chew on wool when they are nervous? Just some wierd things I know. Occupational hazard!

Clothes

2011-02-06T22:21:00.000-08:00

Every morning you have to rummage through the drawers and try to find a decent pair of clothes. Sometimes it is so frustrating that i wish there was a single uniform for everyone. A uniform to go to office. A pair of pyjamas for home and another one for everything else. It would be so much simpler. Honestly I would be quite relieved if that was the case. Everyone would look the same. You wouldn't be spending thousands of rupees every year on new clothes and accessories.

When I joined this office I was specifically told to dress formally. Formal is the opposite of Parul Gahlot. Andyet i have to find decent clothes to wear every morning. I have to admit some days are easier than the otehrs when my favorite clothes have been washed and ironed and on other days I just get irritated trying to decide. You should not be expected to make decisions in the morning.

Ok I'm done talking about clothes.

people who walk by

2011-02-03T02:12:00.000-08:00

This is about all the strangers that you meet in life and then forget. You see some of them everyday even like my neighbour who teaches Math. She is a very pretty woman from Pakistan who I have spoken to may be four or five times. She has given me sugar and milk and change for 500 bucks and that's about all the introduction I have. She is still a stranger to me and sometimes I feel may be I am missing out on knowing a really nice person.

Then there is this Philipino woman who walks past me almost daily near the office. I always smile at her but ofcourse we never speak. There's an Indian woman who dresses in men's shirts, jeans and shoes everyday and passes by smoking a cigarette. Every time she goes by I wonder who she is and what she does but ofcourse I couldn't possibly ask.

Then there are these people who you know at a very cursory level and you never go beyond it because you are comfortable in that superficial space. There's this Sudanese guy who dresses in shorts and T shirt in winter and comes down to smoke often. He is an Account Director in an ad agency and believes it is 'cool' to dress like that. I once saw him wearing a velvet jacket. One time he asked me,"How would you like to be briefed as a copywriter?" I gave him a very vague answer because I don't know the proper large words. I almost have an allergy to large words. Keep it simple I say. Anyway he was not impressed and the fuck I care. So that relationship will always remain in the realm of 'Hi! How are you?'

There are many young mothers in my building and with the exception of two of them my relationship with the rest also falls in the above category. They are anyway quite busy running after and disciplining their respective children. Then there is this German guy whose name I used to know but now forget who lives in the building opposite mine. He has a mixed breed dog called Bobby. Bobby is in love with Ninna and Ninna is in love with him. Unfortunately due to the difference in their breeds they cannot be mated. That does not stop them from looking at each other longingly. Whenever I take Ninna for a walk in the evening she automatically goes near his window and he jumps at the glass and lets out these plaintive howls till the owner opens the window, I pick up Ninna so that Bobby and she can lick each others' faces. It is an adorable moment. I say hello to the guy. I ask how are you and then I walk away but it is a nice moment due to the doggy love even though we are strangers.

Then there are people with whom you end up sharing a cab. You almost never meet them again. There are people who ask for directions on the road and if you're a nice person you don't give them wrong directions. There are the taxi drivers, the people in the bus and train who sit next to you for a while. There is a certain beauty in almost all the people who walk by.

Thursday is my Friday

2011-02-03T00:17:00.000-08:00

Yes in Dubai the week comes to an end on Thursday instead of friday and today is Thursday so I am very keen for time to pass by quickly. In my last post I was whining about the fact that 'time is slipping through my fingers' and today i am shaking the hourglass but the sand just won't go through to the other side.

I eat idlis every day for breakfast at Bombay Chowpatty a restaurant close to my office. Sometimes they give me too much sabzi in my sambhar and then I can't dunk the entire idli into it. I am rather embarrassed to tell them to not give me sabzis for some reason. Don't ask. Wierd things embarrass me. The most embarrassing question I ever have to answer and I've had to answer it many times, is "How much is your salary expectation?' This embarrasses me to no end. It's not that money is a dirty thing. It's just that I can never be quite sure what my time is worth in terms of money.

Time is so precious. Working in an office is my time away from my dog, my family, my friends, my writing adventures and that to me is priceless. No matter how much money you give me it's never enough. i guess that's true of most people, no matter how much you have it, you could always use some more.

I like buying boxes and they cost money that could probably be saved if I didn't buy them. Yes I agree with that but on the other hand I find it hard to not buy them. Money by it's very nature is tempting you all the time to just spend it. Yes I agree you're supposed to think about your future and kids and old age and stuff like that but I happen to love boxes and giving people gifts. I try to be a miser and believe me I've really tried I become really miserable after a while. Yes I agree money doesn't exist so it's spent the moment you get it but it's going to be spent SOME day. The trick I guess is to delay that day as much as you can and causing that delay makes me miserable after a while.

So to end this I promise to delay that day as much as I can and be a responsible citizen of my marriage.

I'm so vain...

2011-01-16T23:21:00.001-08:00

I'm so vain, I think every song is about me :)

sleepiness

2011-01-12T03:29:00.000-08:00

the hazard of working full time is that post lunch you tend to fall asleep on your desk with your chin in the cradle of your palm. I think one should be given time to take power naps which are generally good for an employee's health but then I am a true and literal dreamer. I like the day dreams but the real morning dreams are a nightmare. I don't think that sentence makes any sense whatsoever. Anyway after the longest time I am writing on the blog because I have absolutely nothing else to do which could effectively keep me awake. I have to continue typing away for the longest time so that my lids do not become heavy and droop and then comfortably close in a formal office atmosphere.

I had a horrible dream in the morning. There's a reason for that. Every morning Anshuman and I lie half awake half asleep in bed and try to get the other to wake up and make tea. So we had the same ritual today and I fell asleep after the unpleasant half asleep conversation. I overslept and had a horrible dream to boot. I dreamt that Anshuman was very unhappy and was going to leave me because I don't cook every morning and every night. And then some people shut me in a dark room and I kept screaming to be let out and Anshuman didn't come to rescue me.

I don't know what the dream meant but it made sure I had a horrible morning. I gulped my tea, brushed my teeth, washed my face, changed my clothes and ran out to chase a taxi. Taxis are moody. sometimes there are a large number of them and sometimes there are more people and less cabs. And then invariably you end up getting frustrated because the cabbie does not have change to give you.

So you rush to the office to realise that no one is on time today. The damn office is empty and if the receptionist had been missing too I would have thought someone forgot to tell me that the weekends had already arrived.

The weekend begins day after tomorrow but even my weekends are full of tarot readings and doctor's visits. Honestly I'm a little tired and need some tender loving care...

The new issue of the magazine i've started working for is coming out on sunday. So that's a good thing that i'm looking forward to. will send a copy to my parents and in-laws. They will feel happy and on thath cheerful thought i will say adios!

just

2010-09-27T00:56:00.000-07:00

another one :)

getting ready

2010-09-23T09:51:00.000-07:00

make up is a mood lifter i think. the days i feel particularly shitty i apply make up and somehow it feels a lot better. then i take a few pictures because i'm rather vain. so here's one of them. and oh i stopped writing again.

A lovely beginning

2010-09-11T09:12:00.000-07:00

So I finally started writing my story and honestly it feels good, not so scary anymore. I convinced myself that I never have to show it to anyone if I don't want to and suddenly the pressure lifted and two lovely lines flowed through. I'm happy and I feel light because I know it's just a matter of making a beginning and the rest will fall in place.

There is such a world of difference between writing a blog and attempting to pen a story. The former is spontaneous and the latter so deliberate. Both have their own 'rasa' and I love both. So a pat on my back for finally makinmg an attempt.

Sallu Bhai

2010-09-09T07:40:00.000-07:00

Just saw Dabangg and I must say Sallu can actually be quite funny at times. I expected a truly terrible film but it surprised me by being just about OK. All is quiet around me because when I switch off the TV from the main switch no one can be bothered to switch it on again. Silence is nice. Everyone should have at least some during the day.
I'm sad to report that I am yet to write the second page of my story. I longingly look at the first page every now and then... that's it I just look.
Ninna is asleep. Dogs sleep a lot I must say. She is refusing to eat anything today. She does that once in a while and then I have to feed her by hand literally. I know I spoil her but then she spoils me rotten with all the love and general entertainment that goes along with having a French Bulldog. I luuuurve her.

The Anshuman

2010-09-08T01:14:00.001-07:00

The Anshuman is a peculiar man. He has long conversations with himself about future conversations he might have with people I about whom I have no clue. He reads at least three books at a time but my guess is what he really enjoys are the Amar Chitra Kathas that I buy for him. He is extremely intelligent which makes it extremely difficult to manipulate him. It works for him but sometimes doesn't work for me. It certainly works for his clients and thank God for that.
He loves animals and knows the names and general habits of many birds. Many a time he points out a bird and tells me it's name and if it's boy or a girl and somehow I find that very romantic. I have been to two tarot readers and a psychic who have told me that we are soulmates. Everytime I come home and tell Anshuman what they said he replies-'I could have told you that.' But you see it's nice when someone else tells you.
Anshuman loves his cricket. It's a passion. Not a day goes by when he doesn't declare to himself-' Aaaand Anshuman hit six sixes!' and then goes on to hit a six in the air with a flourish. It never fails to make me smile. Sometimes I think that may be he should have been a cricketer, at other times may be a wildlife photographer or even a travel writer.
I love his stories and he tells them so well in the printed as well as the spoken word.
Some time ago I used to have trouble sleeping at night and most nights he would spin a new yarn for me. The stories were always funny and I relaxed and fell asleep.
He is generous to a fault and loves to feed his friends some excellent biryani and other animals. His energy is infectious and it never fails to lift me out of my darkest moods. No matter how much I resist he has the tenacity to make sure I get over my silly fears and learn stuff like driving and swimming. I'm always thankful for that.
He always gives me a pretty stone everytime we go to the beach and says-' with this I thee wed' I like his sense of romance. He's innovative and surprising and wonderful and do I have to say it? I love him.

The story

2010-09-08T00:02:00.000-07:00

I wrote one page a few years back. I loved it. It was supposed to be a long project. A long story and I never got beyond the first page. I have imagined the second page thousands of times. There are various scenarios in my mind and none of them sound as good as the first page.
I am not a big fan of my own writing. It's ok. It's not bad but it's not great either but I love this one page. I believe it is really good and everytime I read it I get excited and I am itching to write the next one and yet something stops me. Some invisible force tells me I'll never do justice to it. I get a little scared and then I get petrified and then I freeze and that one page sits still in a folder within a folder so that I would not come across it easily.
This time I have put it on the desktop so that may be I will someday have the courage to proceed further than that one page that will mock me everyday when I open my laptop.
Why do I not write? what is this invisible force? Where is my self confidence? Do I need a self help book? Jeeez!

Sunday night and water

2010-08-29T10:00:00.000-07:00

It's not too late. Ninna is asleep by my side and I rest on two pillows. The laptop rests on Anshuman's special fat pillow. Knopfler sings in a lazy honey soaked voice. Some nights are perfection itself. So peaceful the glow of the nightlamp soothes the tired eyes and spreads a glow all around. It's Sunday night and everything seems to be at peace. It is in my world.
Recently I got over my fear of water. I can almost swim now. It took a lot of courage to get from not being able to stand in chest deep water to now being able to swim without any aid for at least half the length of the pool. Anyway if I hadn't learnt I would have missed out the feeling of being submerged in water. I love just lying free and watching my limbs move with such grace like they never do on land. I feel like I belong in the water and somehow I feel it heals me. I feel calm and I could float away forever.

Romancing Knopfler

2010-08-28T00:40:00.000-07:00

I have to admit I am in love with him. My favourite album is On Every Street and my favourite song is On Every Street. For a long time I didn't pay attention to the words and believed that it was a love song but strangely it's not at all. It's probably a cop looking for an absconding perpetrator. Wierd huh! But I swear when I hear the words-' And it's your face I'm looking for on every street' I'm convinced the cop is a man in love with the woman thief and is looking for her as much out of love as duty.
Ninna just farted. She has an upset stomach so it was particularly deadly.
Actually it's very difficult to say which song of Knpfler I love the most. Brothers in arms used to make me well up and I heard it over and over and over again till every note and intonation and the sensuality of Knopfler's voice was etched in my memory. I want to see him in concert. I pray that he has along life and his music lives on even longer!

been a long time

2010-08-27T08:42:00.000-07:00

I've been so caught up with watching television and using the ipod to check my mail that just haven't got around to blogging for the longest time. But the fact is that I want to write and very badly so I make a solemn promise that I will write regularly. In fact will try to write a few lines at least everyday.
Today I'm writing on my spanking new Dell laptop that my father gifted me. He is an extremely generous man and his daughters take advantage of that fact whenever possible and honestly he doesn't even mind.
I haven't written in so long that my typing speed is considerably low and my fingertips are tingling and my arms hurt.Really I promise to write everyday. I have to! My fingers are buzzing honest!
So what have I been doing all this time? Everytime I ask myself that question it leaves me very confused. I spend time as though life is going to last forever. Staring out of the window and thinking about alternative realities satisfies me greatly. The one thing I have started doing is learning French. My teacher is an old Frenchwoman who wears a tie for a belt and matching shoes.She has her own sense of style and she is a very good teacher although I am far from an ideal student as I never get around to memorising the various verbs. I make excellent tables and organise information beautifully but when it comws to remembering it the light bulb goes off. How did I ever pass out of school I have no idea.
So to the one and a half people who read my blog. I'm back baby!

one of those days

2010-05-22T10:18:00.000-07:00

sometimes i get very tired and i havent been doing anything at all. And sometimes I feel as though i want to say something and i have no idea what the words are. I try to remain reasonable and i try to do the rational thing but that makes me even more tired. The only thing that gives me solace is that I will get into bed and be able to concentrate on how my feet get from being lukewarm to hot till i have to stick them out of the comforter.
This is one of those moments that i dont want anyone to read and at the same time i want someone to say- i feel the same way sometimes.

Getting comfortable

2010-04-28T06:50:00.000-07:00

There's always a process,a ritual if you will that is involved in getting co
fortable in your space. For example you get up in the morning and you always have the hangover of a dream. I do. And every once on a while you just cannot remember what your subconscience was trying to tell you last night. This leaves an emptiness in the mind space and hovers around you in the bathroom mirror. You open the door to pick up the paper and on that particar day the Thursday entertainment magazine is suspiciously missing. You realize the paper insists you are one day ahead of the scheduled day. It's only Wednesday and the weekend is much further than you thought. You make tea. The milk boils over. You try to clean the stove. The paper towels catch fire. You manage to douse it out with a dish towel before the smoke alarm goes off. You take your too strong tea and sit down. You have to get up. The paper is still on the kitchen counter and the very small act of getting up makes you so very tired.
The point is that there are days when you will spill the coffee on your favourite shirt or on your boss's favourite shirt. They will discontinue your favourite show on tv. You will fail your driving test and you won't get that call you've been waiting for for two months. The whole world will seem to go to shit.
But at the end of the day it's just a day and it will go away.

Life is a journey

2010-02-23T03:45:00.000-08:00

(this was a title given to me to write a page about life in school. Here goes)

It sounds lofty and tedious but really it’s like a dream that goes by before you have the time to wake up and lock it into memory. I think most of us were about seven years old when we joined the school at the edge of Delhi and UP. The principal an ex-military man never tired of telling us-“ Jesus was born in a barn and our school was born in a godown.” Those were the days when we would jump out of the school bus and run to our favourite swing with our favourite friend. Sometimes the bus was late and someone else had your precious swing but the disappointment didn’t last for more than a few seconds because you still had your favourite friend by your side.
I wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of you have that elusive childhood friend that you just can’t find now despite google, facebook , linkedin and a plethora of networking sites on the world wide web. Once in a while you catch yourself thinking about those childhood games like iggo duggo, pitthu phod and ice pice(eyes spy) and you wonder if your friend is married with children. Do you remember a special school bag that you carried? I had a small green attaché that I used to carry during exams only because it wouldn’t hold my regular load of books. The most wonderful thing about exams was the fact that there were no classes afterwards and the moment an exam got over there was a riot that was hard to contain.
Then there were break time. Food and water especially in summer were of great importance. A lot of us finished our food in the 10 min short break and then raided other people’s lunches shamelessly. We drank cool water in the heat causing the owner of a certain brown bottle to scream,”Who drank my water?” The thing is some people would actually not share their cool water and caused some others to make them pay for it. Then there was arm wrestling very often amongst the boys ofcourse while the girls played a game called elastic. Remember that game anyone?
And we all grew together and so did the school. All of us fell in love at some time or the other with someone. I remember a particular someone sitting in class on the 3rd floor looking lovingly at his special someone on the 1st floor with his back to the teacher. I think the teacher said something witty and sarcastic that I just can’t remember. It was all well if you were in love with your own classmate but if you liked your senior you had to keep going around the hexagon in circles till you got a glimpse of the loved one or even better if he/she said two words to you in which case you smiled like an idiot the whole day for a very good reason. Our school was really quite hard on love. It was a bad thing and our hormones were to be kept in check at all times. We could play sports, do dramatics, study, sing, run, write articles even poems but God forbid that we should fall in love. Parents were called and punishments were of a wide variety.
Well I have come to the end of the quota given to me to write this. I would have liked to include names but I don’t have space. The point is when I look back I realize that we were all unique and together we made a fantastic and extremely interesting lot. Some of us excelled at sports, some at studies, some were wonderful actors and some were just wonderful people. Nostalgia should be indulged in small doses so let me say that I am so fortunate to be in touch with all of you and I wish your children would be in schools where they study, play, act, run, kick, laugh, find friends and fall in love, so when you hear the teacher complain remember there’s a small scared kid standing outside. He’s just like you.

The iPod is an an Amazing thing !

2010-01-23T13:22:00.000-08:00

I love the touchscreen technology and I love the fact that they keep finishing
my words for me. I am sure that they can't be right all the time but amazingly it
has not been wrong even once. I love it.
I saw three idiots today. It's pretty good entertainment. aamir khan is as good as ever. I almost always like his films. And now I am tired of typing with one finger. so good night and good luck.love clooney.

Ninna and Pintu

2010-01-16T05:10:00.000-08:00

the unbearable loss of anger

2010-01-01T12:41:00.000-08:00

there was a time when i was about 12 or 13 when i would lose my temper terribly frequently. Those days are gone. Now I lose my temper very very rarely. My temper has not disappeared. It has taken the form of mild irritation wih the world in general. I'm wary of people and their biases, opinions and expectations.
May be I don't understand them very well.

People have an image of how other people should be and this has nothing to do with the way they themselves are in their own life. This leads to free advice and this causes a burning anger within me and I want to slap, scream and kick all at the same time.I flew into a rage yesterday over something like this after the longest time. I yelled and screamed at someone and if my darling husband hadn't come to my side and flown into a rage himself at this person, I might have slapped and kicked. In any case my darling husband also screamed and was ready to punch an kick himself so I calmed down and promptly ended up confused because I had forgotten how angry I could become given the 'right' stimulus.

I was quite surprised to see anshuman this angry. He almost never loses his temper. In any case I wish people would leave me well alone. I don't know if I was always a loner or circumstances turned me into one, the fact is that I am one. I like being a loner. I like eating alone, reading alone, having tea by myself, listening to the radio alone, riding the train alone, just being, just being alone. I am comfortable. Why do other people have to walk into my space and then get uncomfortable and then cause me to be uncomfortable.

Somewhere deep within my being I'm angry as hell. Honestly I prefer my dog to most people.

and so it begins

2010-01-01T01:57:00.000-08:00

went for a party last night..woke up in the afternoon today..the day is quiet almost serene...there's no one outside...anshuman sleeps...ninna sleeps...I'm having tea and looking out of my window at the trees swaying ever so gently...the sun is hiding behind the clouds...just spotted two little children a girl and a boy walking hand in hand...there's no one playing basketball in the court...i feel as though I'm the only one awake this afternoon...a seaplane flies overhead...birds swim across my window...another year has gone by...another one begins...and so it begins

Fukold with Ninna and Pintu

2009-12-26T08:03:00.000-08:00

So there is this camping event that has become a kind of an annual event. It's called Fukamp (Fujairah Camp). This time we went and camped at the highest point in UAE. I forget the name. I'm bad at names and good at descriptions. I think.
Anyway let me begin with day before yesterday night. India won the match and the series against Sri Lanka and Anshuman and I found a stray pup on the road. Anshuman's heart immedeately melted and we took him home. He came home and marked his territory with his urine and excreta. Since then I have had the pleasure of cleaning shit several times.
That's the thing with puppies. You love 'em. You hate 'em. You love 'em. You hate 'em. But really he is quite a sweetheart and has not chewed as many things as I expected him to. We have named him Pintu. Ninna loves dominating/playing with him and I have realised that he loves it too. In quieter moments he licks her face and she gives him a snotty look. When he is asleep she licks him back.
So I sat in the backseat with both of them and Anshuman drove us through the mountains which made Ninna carsick while Pintu slept merrily.
I have never left Ninna without her leash in the open. This was a first and she really enjoyed it. She even forgot about bossing over Pintu. People at the camp gave him many names but we will call him Pintu. He was much fussed over and loved. He ate his food. He ate Ninna's food. She hasn't eaten since yesterday and for some reason no amount of cajoling has helped.
Both of them are asleep right now. Ninna next to me and Pintu on the carpet. The radio has decided to come on on it's own as it does every day at about 8:30 pm. I don't know why this happens. I have never tried to set an alarm on it. I like listening to sports commentary. It's like white noise to me only the soothing kind. It's strange but I can listen to Cricket or football commentary all day. It suits Anshuman just fine.
So night fell on the camp and temperature dropped. We set up our tent. I laid out the sheets and the sleeping bags. Pintu started shivering so I had to put him in the car. And then it began to rain. Anshuman decided we should sleep in the car. I shifted everything to the car along with Ninna. The rain stopped and I decided there was no way I could sleep on the reclining front seat so I shifted everything back to the tent along with Pintu and Ninna. Both of them huddled with me as it grew even colder. Pintu licked my nose and then put his face on my neck. He fell asleep. Ninna was restless, probably cold. Finally Ninna got into my sleeping bag and that really saved both of us from the cold. I was awake for most of the night.I could hear everyone snoring in the camp and the wind froze us over. It was truly Camp Fukold. I was feeling fucked and cold.
Morning came. Anshuman made me a cup of tea. I'm so grateful for that. The dogs went back to the car. We made the drive home without much incidence in the company of Mark Knopfler's voice.
Right now after the luxuries of hot shower and talcum powder I feel like a new woman and more importantly I feel warm.

Desert rain

2009-12-13T01:57:00.000-08:00

It's been raining all morning and it has dissolved into the afternoon and I have stopped pretending to work. Ninna is sleeping all cozy and comfortable inside my sweater. This sweater is at least 12 years old. My mother bought it for herself and like many other things I took it from her easily. It's amazing, the ease with which a mother will give away just about anything to see her child happy. I sometimes wonder if I will be just as generous when motherhood comes calling. I am quite possesive about my stuff. Anshuman and I have had many a fights when he has taken sometihing of mine and put even a scratch on it. He thinks I'm selfish and may be I am. My camera, my walkman, my laptop, my dessert(I despise having to share my dessert)my this my that and my other. So when there is a child putting his chubby fingers into my precious dessert I wonder how I will react. Motherhood is going to be so interesting.

It's still raining and Ninna still sleeps. For the last few weeks I have been obsessing over a certain mini netbook. These days I go to an electronic store and ask for it even though I know they don't have it. Don't ask me why I do that.I have been to many many shops and chosen one that I promptly fell in love with. That's the thing with me. I fall in love with things. It's emotional. I try to rationalise it so that I can make a convincing case in front of Anshuman so that he would agree with me. He's not an easy judge and it takes time, patience and intelligence to convince him of anything. If you're truly desperate you cry but I avoid that. I hate crying. I've done enough of it in my life.
So today we will go to Dubai Mall and buy my favourite subject of obsessive thought. My very own mini netbook. cute and organic and basic and so beautiful.

why don't you write?

2009-12-04T02:19:00.000-08:00

Someone asked me after a long time. My reason is nothing in particular and everything in general. I live a good life. All the compartments are in place. Some of them unaware of the others' existence. That's what is so interesting about the inner world of thought and the outer world of reality.
My inner life is so exciting that every night it gets even better in my dreams. I wake up invariably puzzled. The thoughts most interesting are those that flash into your mind unannounced like you see yourself slapping someone for no reason. It's weird but it happens to me so often that I almost pay no attention.
You spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about relationships that either don't exist or are barely there. You realise that you think about people you don't like just about as much as you think about people you do.That reminds me of something I read somewhere and it got stuck in my head- You share a lot more in common with people you don't like than you realise.
You do your work mainly to feel like a normal person. you sometimes paint and mostly hate what you come up with and the mocking easel stares at you when you sleep. Dan Brown disappoints and you disappoint yourself looking at all the bookmarks in use by your bedside. So you ask yourself,"when was the last time you finished a book?"
You buy the hardback new John Irving and then feel guilty about it as you could have waited for a few months for the paperback. But you just couldn't wait. That is a deep deep problem with you. You want instant gratification and that somehow never fits in with the general scheme of things in your life. So you work for money. It sounds much worse than it is because your job is wandering around...literally wandering around. You work as a researcher for a TV series about Dubai. So you get into a bus and then a train and then a bus and then you wander. You talk to a few people. You collect brochures and such. You write in your new notebook. And when the time comes for you to present your data you just can't find a comfortable place in the house to sit and work. So you sit on the bed, drag the table next to it, spread your brochures, magazines, city guides and books around. You're not comfortable. You come to the living room and sit on the dining table chair, you spread your brochures, magazines, city guides and books around. Your back hurts. You're not comfortable. You procrastinate. You play with the dog. You molest your husband who promptly tells you to get to work. He knows you well and understands you'll do just about anything to avoid work.
You finally settle down as the night falls and the day threatens to dawn upon you and finish everything in a single breath. It's good.It makes you feel normal. The next day they love you for it. They love the way you write. You smile and treat yourself to a coffee which turns out to be shit.
And then the next day someone asks you,"Why don't you write?"

New blog

2009-09-07T08:26:00.000-07:00

I started a new blog recently based on my experiences with tarot. Do check it out. www.tarotdiaries.blogspot.com

so damn cool!

2009-03-27T11:40:00.000-07:00

i'm writing this post from my phone. So excited.

On a beautiful afternoon surrounded by light

2009-03-05T05:40:00.000-08:00

Under the kitchen light

2009-02-26T23:26:00.000-08:00

and so in to myself :-)

2009-02-19T04:06:00.000-08:00

so happy

2009-02-16T08:12:00.000-08:00

New year's eve picture

2009-01-13T02:28:00.000-08:00

Typifying songs

2009-01-05T05:04:00.000-08:00

A conversational song is better than a discriptive one. Like you and your friend is a better song than iron hand. I'm probably grossly generalising.

The last day

2008-12-31T00:47:00.000-08:00

This is a time to think about resolutions but I nver make any based on the premise that I rarely keep promises made to myself. I just do things one fine day and it's never on the new year. This last year has seen so many positive changes for us. We moved into our own house, bought our first car, anshuman won a quiz for the second year in a row and most important of all I got a job I love.
For the first time I feel a little sad seeing this year end. I've been so happy in it. I want this happiness to spill over and double itself in the new year. I sometimes feel that's too much to ask...will things continue the way they are or there will be daunting challenges to be face. Either ways I am as ready as I will ever be for the future to unfold.
As a tradition on this blog. I will thank the people who have made this year so worthwhile. My mother for talking to me even when there's nothing much to say. My father for his infectious joy. My sister for fighting with circumstances so gracefully. Papa Kishore for being a constant source of encouragement. Anna and Mukul for all their love. Ninna for being the best little dog in the whole world.
All my friends in Dubai for their companionship and generous hospitality. Zaid my boss for making work so enriching. Gazal for her consistent comments and deep friendship. Swasti for being far yet so close.
Last but not the least Anshuman, for being my best friend, lover and fellow traveller in life.
So thank you all for making this year one of the best I have ever had. At the end of this post I feel uplifted and not so sad after all as I realise I am taking you all with me to the next year.

Happy new year!

No comment

2008-12-23T04:25:00.000-08:00

There's no comment on my last post. Clearly Gazal has not had the time to come by. Sigh where are you my faithful friend :)

The Leo Burnett pencil

2008-12-22T04:26:00.000-08:00

For the first time I stole. A Leo Burnett pencil in office. I have also 'borrowed' a notepad, eraser and a blade. In my defence I need these things and they are all over the office. I had to 'borrow' them because I had already requested my boss to give me the Leo Burnett Notebook which he did so I felt stupid asking for a pencil. So I took someone else's. Again in my defence that person had three of them.

I love this fat black pencil with it's smooth dark lead. It is such a pleasure to write with it that I have filled several pages of the big notepad. I am not a genius so amazing things to write about are hard to come by so I write the songs that I listen to. Since I know all the lyrics I try to race with the singer and as you can imagine I always lose in the end because there's no way I can write as fast as Mark Knopfler sings.

I am trying to improve my handwriting which has greatly suffered since I switched to computers. I used to have a good handwriting and now it's not half bad, as in half of it is actually good and then for some inexplicable reason it changes and become illegible. I enjoy it anyway, the physical act of writing is somehow always so soothing.

Love the pencil. Would steal it again if I had to.

secret santa image post

2008-12-20T22:37:00.000-08:00

discovering the thong

opening the present

Secret Santa

2008-12-17T23:48:00.000-08:00

so there's something called as secret santa in the office. You pick out the name of a coleague and give them a gift. I gave someone earrings which she loved. Someone gave me a purse and a thong. I am dying to know who this was. heh heh

Being Boss

2008-12-15T03:09:00.000-08:00

So there was something called IPC today in office which basically means Internal Review. I still don't know what IPC stands for. then there is GPC which stands Global Something Something review which someone other than the agency does. So each ad is rated on a scale of one to ten. The boss of my boss made a presentation to his big bosses and they made judgement never moving beyond 5 to 7 points. The feedback though directed at the whole team is mostly taken by one lone wolf- the boss. One might think that its cushy to be boss, telling people what to do but I understood that the boss has to take the hits for his team just as much as the applause and sometimes at a public forum.
There was a long presentation of ads from various branches of the company and it was an excellent mix of learning and fun. It's amazing how much fun advertising can be and the keen insight you need into human behaviour to be effective at it. It's sad that I discovered advertising at such a late age. I'm glad I'm here now though. And I love it. So here's to my Boss's Boss- You were graceful at all times!

Bitch

2008-12-14T00:55:00.000-08:00

I found my temper today as opposed to losing it. It truly tells me that I have grown older and wiser. This woman in office pissed me off as hell. She is thin and pretty and believes that she is God's gift to mankind. She has a constant smug smile on her face. She never says hello. Today she pointed out a mistake in my copy and when i asked her to call the person concerned to cross check she spread her hands like her fingers will fall off if she makes one call. What an A-class bitch.
Point is that I got really angry and wanted to slap her. the Parul 10 years ago would have. I have slapped people when I was younger. Today I just bitched about her to my boss and left it at that. then I had a big lunch and everything began getting better with my first bite of the delicious dessert. Although I am hoping that she will piss me off just one more time and I WILL slap her this time. What a bitch.

Here

2008-12-10T04:10:00.000-08:00

I am in Dubai. Came to work like a good girl and have done some little work. the weather outside is beautiful, not too warm and not too cold so you can't decide whether you should wear a jacket or not. My boss is playing guitar with a colleague on bongos. I know that sounds strange but it's the truth. I should probably offer to do a belly dance but I will settle for Inxs on itunes. I might have to stay here late today, proofreading and signing releases. Sounds like bad sex. It's actually worse.
I love John Irving's books. I've read all of them with the exception of 'The imaginary girlfriend' and 'the 52 pound marriage' ( that's what it's called I think) Yesterday there was a movie on TV based on one of his books called 'A prayer for Owen Meany' The movie is called 'Simon Birch' I really liked the book and kind of like the movie. A movie rarely manages to get the essence of the book. Few exceptions are Godfather, Good intentions, Kiterunner and some others i can't remember right now.
New development in my life is that there is a tradition in office that on christmas there is something known as the secret santa. They put everyone's name in a bag and you choose one name and buy them a gift which they get on christmas. So I have agreed to participate. I hope I will make a new friend. let's see.
Ninna has come home smelling like a baby from Dr Elizabeth's place. They use baby shampoo to wash her. She is such a sweetheart. I miss her when I m at work. To sit at home with Ninna by my side even working all day feels like nothing. In office sitting on a chair looking at a computer with nothing to do can sometimes feel impossible and alone.
Delhi trip was good. Great spending time with Mummy , Papa and Mini. Did lots of shopping.
I am proud of the fact that ever since i decided to use this space like a journal, I've been pretty consistent in writing. The importance that I used to attach to comments is greatly diminished even though I like them when they turn up every now and then. It's a good feeling to write for the sheer pleasure of writing.

201

2008-12-03T22:34:00.000-08:00

the last post was the 200th post. I am going to Delhi tomorrow. Was pretty homesick for some time. Actually that's not true because I am homesick most of the time. Always ready to go to India. It's a short trip and I wish I had more time but I have to come back and join work. These days work is slow like a love song. But it's tough to hear the same song everyday...

3 songs

2008-12-03T04:11:00.000-08:00

you can spend a whole day on the shoulders of three good songs.

MP3

2008-12-03T03:30:00.000-08:00

I downloaded a song for the first time and it's such an exciting thing. I don't know why I never did it before and kept asking anshuman to do it for me. He finally gave up today because he is very busy. His workload has increased and he talks to himself more than usual. Sometimes I think this apparition he speaks to talks back.

Ah another song is over yippie!

sick

2008-11-30T02:10:00.000-08:00

took three days sick leave because my nose was filled with vile substances, throat with enlarged tonsils and one ear with i-dont-know-what. All in all it was hard to breathe and i either had fever or was feverish most of the time. So I took sick leave and slept most afternoons in a dreamless sleep and ninna slept by my side. she licked my face periodically resulting is the short periods of time that i actually felt better.
I got various advice from many quarters. But honestly there's no cure for the common cold. Really. I hate going to a doctor without at least having actual fever as opposed to feeling feverish. I have a good boss who is very understanding so thank God for that.
And now here I am back at work listening to George Michael crooning away on itunes. Coughing away periodically with an abrasive throat. Oh that was a bad one! I've noticed that George Michael can be quite depressing when he chooses. I enjoy Eagles very much and for some reason these lines are my favorite-

I'm a standing on a corner
In winslow, arizona
And such a fine sight to see
It's a girl, my lord, in a flatbed Ford
slowin' down to take a look at me
Come on, baby, don't say maybe
I gotta know if your sweet love is
Gonna save me

I recently read one third of a book which explains the Thoth tarot. Thoth is an Egyptian God and the Thoth tarot is inspired by Egyptian mythology. I slogged through it because I am in love with the images. They are full of symbols and geometrical designs which have the power to mesmerise you. The meanings and interpretations are altogether something else. I haven't even come to the meanings of the individual cards. Just the introduction to the Qabalah which is necessary to understand the thoth tarot, is a complex affair. I have to get back to that book. It tires me and yet I want to learn more. I don't know how much I actually understand.

I made a painting on my living room wall which I didn't like so I painted something else over it which I again didn't like so I made a white border which is whiter that the rest of the wall so now it all looks rather strange. I will post a picture.

Last but not the least I have been trying not to watch tv. Mostly because I am unable to help what's happened and joining a group on facebook or wearing black clothes today seems trivial. Symbols are powerful but they can only go so far. A candle eventually burns out. The question is what should an individual do to ensure this doesn't happen again? I honestly don't know.

slow motion

2008-11-23T01:09:00.000-08:00

it's like fuzzy cream colored warm clouds covering you from head to toes, releasing a sense of well being in small doses so that you almost fall asleep in your chair with a pen in your hand, sleeping on the paper. Songs flow like honey through your veins and your blood sugar gets dangerously high resulting in the sweetest of benign smiles that you just cannot control. You begin to write in amazingly long sentences without stopping to take a breath as your face feels warm and your fingernails type slowly, ever so slowly making no mistakes whatsoever because of the sheer slowness of movement. Everything is in slow motion like a plesant dream. And I wonder why I didn't bring my book? Am I getting a fever? Is it the jacket I'm wearing or the first time I had lunch with another person?

words about words

2008-11-23T00:10:00.000-08:00

short words in small sentences bring me comfort of expression. I think I am not particularly high on the list of folks good with vocabulary. In fact I consistently lose at scrabble and have never finished a crossword puzzle. I have made crossword puzzles as part of my job at one point but never have i solved one. And yet I love writing. I don't feel stuck for a particular word and increasingly I get the feeling that big words leave too much room for speculation of it's meaning. I choose to be exact rather than sound intelligent but ultimately vague. Am I being judgemental to a particular kind of writing? Probably yes. I have little patience trying to string together big words and then deciphering the meaning. Say what you have to say, don't say a lot just because you can... I feel.
Although I may feel this way simply because of my inability to form long meaningful sentences with large words that have a beauty of their own which I totally miss.

happiness

2008-11-17T02:27:00.000-08:00

last night i was sitting at home by the open window. anshuman and a friend were having a drink and I was enjoying the breeze, the conversation. Ninna was asleep and it struck me- this is happiness. The stuff that passes by quietly almost like a thief is...happiness.

triggers

2008-11-09T04:37:00.000-08:00

music can trigger very specific memories. We all know that so I'm going to list down my triggers and I invite you all to do the same. I think it will be an interesting exercise.

So far away- Dire Straits

Being on the phone on a rainy day trying to hear the voice at the other end. Standing under the girls hostel as people screamed for people to come down. Me either waiting or talking on the ancient payphone with a six digit number, and staring at the message on the blackboard written by someone- so and so called for parul

Desert rose- Sting

Sleeping in the bus from sharjah to dubai. feeling the waves of airconditioning and clutching my bag for warmth. The mp3 player singing and the sands of dubai going past as we took the outermost road to avoid the traffic...the sun coming through the windows.

Small blue thing- Suzanne Vega

This memory is not limited to this song...there are many songs which remind me of sitting on the computer at AVON Classic in Borivli and chatting with strange people out of boredom. The point was to listen to the songs and the chatting was by the way and the rain was invariably kissing my face.

Honeymoon Suite- Suzanne Vega

This is a song which talks about a woman's vision/dream in her honeymoon suite. There's a line which says something about the husband having missed all that happened in the room that night. The memory attached to this song is of Anshuman being on the computer for hours and me feeling ignored, silly newly wed that I was back then. It was a feeling of surprised hurt.

I'm ready - Bryan Adams

This one always takes me back to my basement in which i stayed for about a year. I danced alone to this song. It played on my red panasonic mono cassette player. I loved it. It went on to become one of our favorite songs.

Take on me- A-ha

This song is sooo MTV in the early eighties I think. I loved the video and recorded it on tape which I still have. The memory is of the brilliant Aarti Sharma who disappeared somewhere in the US of A after doing her BSc in Physics from St Stephens. We were classmates and she likedSun always shines on TV( also by A-ha) better.

Big space- Suzanne Vega
the time I wrote poem after poem every day and every night. It was a strange time because I was happy and yet somehow disconnected.

I have to go home now so another post will soon follow...till then think about your songs and memories .

a girl in love

2008-11-09T02:32:00.000-08:00

a girl i know, walks with her hips swinging behind her and her breasts enter the room before her. She wears mascara every day with glossy blue eyeshadow. Her clothes vary from less to very less and depending on that a percentage of her skin breathes fresh air in places most women try to hide.
I realised today this girl stands next to a dark good looking man in the smoking area and a glow comes to her face which casts a net of beauty on her aura despite everything that I dislike about her. I like watching her at these times. This man is handsome and quite oblivious or appears to be so. He is always there with another man and she stands between them never looking at his companion. She laughs throwing her head back in gay abandon, touches the delicate necklace that hangs between the swell of her bosom. He smiles and they blow smoke almost at her face and she is unfazed even though she doesn't smoke. She smiles and looks adoringly at the dark handsome man. She is beautiful. In that moment all the make up, all the anatomocal jokes I can think of and all the brevity of attire can't take away her beauty.

unfinished post

2008-10-29T02:44:00.000-07:00

I just found this half written post which simply says -A quiet dirt road Why did I write that? I have no idea. I think it's like reading your diary and getting confused about what you could possibly have been thinking when you scribbled some strange thing. People have a habit of signing their name on pieces of paper. Some people overwrite till the letters become fat and unreadable. Some people write a phrase over and over again. I write these words at least once everyday- ' These things have always been the same, why worry now' They are words from a song called Why worry by Dire Straits. I've been writing them for years and years. It's a good thing to remember. I think. A quiet dirt road hmmmm.... I still can't imagine what the next line could be.

yippi dee yippi doo

2008-10-29T02:28:00.000-07:00

I got my tarot cards and two books so yay! The deck is called Thoth Tarot deck and both the books explain the deck. I have been reading one of the books and it's all quite mysterious. even the cards are really amazing, so vibrant and alive with colour and imagery.
It's the most amazing deck i have. so happy.
no work since the morning...i'm sure exactly at 5:30 i will have something to to do. I really like Heart. Their music is so lovely and the woman has a beautiful voice. love it love it love it.

hurting feet

2008-10-28T23:40:00.000-07:00

I like cheese croissants and pasta with white sauce. I think white food is better than red food with the exception of Indian food. It was diwali yesterday and we celebrated by lighting candles and diya and did pooja. The pooja consisted of lighting a diya, closing our eyes and saying a silent prayer then Anshuman said this prayer- 'Congratulations Ramji for defeating Rawan. Please give is strength that we may be able to defeat our inner and outer rawanas. Bless Anna-Papa, Mummy-Papa, Mini and Mukul.'
Then I lit the diyas and candles. Then I realised we didn't have tomatoes so I went to Ibn Batutta mall which is the closest mall and has a hypermarket. That's the thing here. It's not like Sharjah where you could call the grocery downstairs and ask for a lone lemon. In a hypermarket you will invariably remember things you need to buy and stuff your shopping cart which is what I did. Then ran after taxis that do not want to take you to Discovery Garden because it is too close.
Finally reached home and cooked. My feet hurt at the end of it all but it was a satisfying hurt and hurting feet feel wonderful in a warm comforter.

Suzanne Vega

2008-10-27T05:58:00.000-07:00

I am sure that I have written about her before, posted a picture even. What I wanted to say was that I love the way she writes especially because she is so dispassionate...so matter of fact about things which make a normal person emotional and soggy. I wish I could try to be that objective all the time but I am only human with sensitive emotions.
I like one song in particular which is also probably her most famous. She sits in a cafe and describes the scene exactly as she expeirences it and it becomes poetic...only in the last lines she lets on a speck of feeling which becomes so much more effective as compared to a usual love song. Here's the song. Hear it if you get the time

Tom's diner

I am sittingIn the morning
At the diner
On the corner
I am waiting
At the counter
For the man
To pour the coffee
And he fills it
Only halfway
And before
I even argue
He is looking
Out the window
At somebodyComing in
"It is alwaysNice to see you"
Says the man
Behind the counter
To the woman
Who has come in
She is shaking
Her umbrella
And I lookThe other way
As they are kissing
Their hellos
I'm pretending
Not to see them
InsteadI pour the milk
I openUp the paper
There's a story
Of an actor
Who had died
While he was drinking
It was no oneI had heard of
And I'm turning
To the horoscope
And looking
For the funnies
When I'm feeling
Someone watching me
And soI raise my head
There's a woman
On the outside
Looking inside
Does she see me?
No she does not
Really see me
Cause she sees
Her own reflection
And I'm trying
Not to notice
That she's hitching
Up her skirt
And while she's
Straightening her stockings
Her hair
Has gotten wet
Oh, this rain
It will continue
Through the morning
As I'm listening
To the bells
Of the cathedral
I am thinking
Of your voice...
And of the midnight picnic
Once upon a time
Before the rain began...
I finish up my coffee
It's time to catch the train

Blabber on blog

2008-10-26T11:04:00.000-07:00

It's strange how TV and internet changes the quality of life. You end up watching whether you want to or not. And when you have the facility to log on you will invariably log on whether you really want to or not. And you will write about inane stuff on your blog which two and a half people might read. That's ok I like those two and a half people.
So I put up paintings in the house and realised it's been really really long since I painted. I came pretty close several times but then let the feeling pass. I do want to paint but I tire myself just thinking about it. It's easier to blabber on my blog.
Anshuman is whistling downstairs trying to get the dog to listen. She rarely does. Anshuman has a particular kind of whistle so at least she recognises it. On the other hand I can't whistle the same way twice. Anshuman whistles by making an O and then breathing air in. How can anyone do that. I thought everyone blew outwards then I met Anshuman and he showed his appreciation by whistling at me.
The good thing about this house is that it's on the first floor so going up and down is quick. You can see the landscaped gardens from the window. Sometimes when we go to work in the morning the dog looks at us forlornly through the window and I feel so sad but what can I do. I wish someone would pay me to blabber on my blog.

Empty hours

2008-10-26T04:28:00.000-07:00

I find my job very easy. All I have to do is write and I like doing that anyway. It's those times when I don't have work that I am completely at a loss. After checking my email 20 times and then checking my facebook profile 40 times I now have no clue how to spend the next 2 and a half hours.
I am expecting a package Barnes and Noble sent via the cheapest mail possible. If you ever order something off the internet make sure you get it on registered mail so that it has what is called a tracking number so that the customes and postal dept people can keep track of where your package is. I ordered the Thoth Tarot deck and two books that explain the deck and now i am thinking it was all a waste.
I have been chasing this deck for a long time now and it is very elusive. My friends have searched for it almost all over Europe and not found it. So finally I ordered it online and it's not here. I am so sad about that. I love tarot decks and collect them passionately. I now have a center table whoch houses them in style (pics soon)
Today I went home during lunch. I take precisely 15 mins to have lunch normally. 9 minutes spent on dessert. Anyway an engineer came from du and connected the cable tv, internet and landline so now we are connected. All the while i kept feeling guilty for being away from office. Office can be quite a mental prison that way and a physical one too in a sense.
And now I've run out of things to say so I say bye bye

COB

2008-10-21T05:21:00.000-07:00

I recently learnt that COB means close of business. Well COB is only an hour and a half away and I am sitting and dreaming about getting a taxi as soon as i step out of the building. The driver being actually happy to drive me home. Me hurrying up the stairs outside the bulding. The door opens instantly without me having to insert the building code. The lift being on the ground floor and opening instantly to welcome me. Taking out my key from the right front pocket of my jeans. Getting to the front door and inserting the key and hearing Ninna bark and sniff at the door. Getting inside with the key and bag in my handtrying to pet Ninna at the same time who is on her hind legs trying desperately to lick my face. Take out food for her which she laps up in a matter of seconds. Taking out her leash as she jumps all over the place. Putting the leash around her neck as she keeps going in circles making it impossible for me. Taking her down and running to the grass patch lest she should pee or poo in front of the building and someone complains to the builder and we have to get rid of her. Ninna running on the grass feeling happy. Return home. Building door is open and lift is on ground floor. I open her leash. She runs to the door of the house and demands to be let in. I let her in. I put water to boil. Cut ginger pieces and put in water. Wash cups. Wash plates. Put milk in boiling water. Wash frying pan. Wash spoons. The milk boils. I get to it in time. Put tea in it. Put gas on sim. Put away plates, cups, frying pan, spoons. Clean kitchen counter and sink. Pour tea. Shower. Change clothes. The tea is at the correct temperature. Get phone. Get tea. Park on the new orange sofa. Ninna sits at my feet. Take a sip of tea and the pain my body melts away. Take Ninna in arms and let her lick face as much as she wants. Call Anshuman.

Back to work

2008-10-21T01:57:00.001-07:00

I spent the weekened plus two extra days at home. Dont ask me why. And today I am back to work and I have deadlines and what not though the dessert was lovely as always. I didn't get too much done and I am supposed to be working as I write this. I have realised that the briefs are much longer than the actual copy for an ad. Hmmm...
The post lunch sleepiness is coming over me but i am trying desperately to stay awake. OK I am exagerating. I am wide awake. I am just not working. I will in a bit. I will look out of the window for a while and then I will get back to work. If I worked half as much as I think about it I would be much faster than I am and I am already pretty fast :-)
Ok next post a lil later. ta!

Gia

2008-10-16T04:32:00.000-07:00

Somewhere as i was floating on the web i found a picture of Gia Carangi. I was so struck by her beauty. She looked real and human and so different from the bunch these days. I got curious and googled her name. She used to be a model in the seventies and early eighties. She is considered by some, the first supermodel. She posed nude often and easily.
She fell in love with her make up woman. They had a stormy relationship. Gia began injecting heroine in her veins. Got addicted. After getting caught with drugs at an airport she was thrown out by her agency. She got into rehab several times, each time falling off the wagon.
She finally died of aids almost bald with her skin falling off.
Such a beautiful woman died at 26. There is something so poignant about early death and at the same time something so morbidly romantic. Marilyn Monroe, Jim Morrison and Ladi Di. Tortured souls, beautiful people. Angelina Jolie played Gia in the movie. Angelina has a tattoo which says-'the thing that nurtures me destroys me'
Why do some people have that destructive streak? Is it the fucked up childhood or is it just the availability of everything and value of nothing? I don't know. I was just attracted to Gia's face cos in some ways it reminded me of my own many years ago. heh (I'm humility herself)

Rob K

2008-10-15T23:52:00.000-07:00

I saw The Last Samurai for the nth time yesterday. I was alone at home and it was a pleasure having chai and dinner infront of the tv with Ninna sitting next to me making herself comfortable. Then I did the dishes and the laundry, made the bed and got very tired in general.
So listened to the radio for a while warming my toes in the comforter.
I sent a message to DJ Rob saying I wanted to hear 'China in your hand' by T'pau. And he did play it. I was so happy. Then he read out my message which he thought was funny because i said that i had a remix version of the song which is a disgrace to the original. I was thrilled to bits. I like doing this request thing on the radio although DJ Rob mispronounced my name- Parooool.
Anyhow, felt like staying home and chilling out today but duty calls and here i am hammering the keys.
I have decided to treat this space more as a journal than a collection of well written meaningful pieces. I will now write all sorts of meaningless boring things that happen to me so that ten years from now I will know that I had it good most of the time. What I mean is that meaningless and boring is better than unhappy and stressful. You may disagree Gazal my darling and the only reader left of my blog. heh

no sign of life

2008-10-15T00:58:00.000-07:00

in the blogular world of six blogs that i follow. not a peep from anyone. hmmm... just an update for my reference at a later date may be ten years from now....that's an idea...if i'm reading this ten years from now i want to tell myself that I just moved from Sharjah to Dubai. My house is in pretty good shape though my paintings have to be put up...shelves in the loo... curtain in the bedroom and small stuff like that and we'll be all set. Anshuman got his license after his sixth test. He can drive pretty well now and today morning he drove me to office for the first time in CK's wrangler. Couldn't help but give him a kiss.
I'd like to tell myself that I am happy and at this moment am listening to my favourite band- dire straits. I work at Leo Burnett and I like it. I have a good job, a good boss and a good life and I hope God will watch over me like he does now for the rest of my life.

The American Parul

2008-10-08T23:18:00.001-07:00

Parula warblers are tiny lil birdies in the south and north America. They have a buzzing song and loud chip calls. There are four kinds of Parula one of them is called flame throated.

Parul is the name of a river in Romania

In Philipines the star on top of the christmas tree is called Parul

Parul is a small white flower part of a famous bangla song- Parul bonda ke...champa something

Last but not the least someone told me Parul means beautiful. heh.

through the window

2008-10-08T03:00:00.000-07:00

4 fat girls walking casually
21 kitchen towels on a trolley
2 workers
2 men with papers
2 buttocks hanging out of a woman's swim suit bottom
1 truck full of cartons
2 more delivery men
1 more truck
3 men dragging small boxes
1 woman reading by the pool
1 chef in high cap
1 Hummer H3
1 woman backing up car then hesitating
1 man in blue carrying box of bananas
1 man in a uniform with tie making circular motion with fingers
1 bored woman sitting by her office window

Sleeping together

2008-09-19T04:00:00.000-07:00

I close my eyes
He falls into a deep slumber
The radio sings in a low voice
His elbow touches my soft side
I sleep by the window
His face rolls away
After nearly 90 minutes
he gets up chivalourously
andI walk to the door
to get off the bus

Twist in my sobriety

2008-09-18T02:47:00.000-07:00

The first line of this song is taken from a poem written by Maya Angelou. I wish I could paste the whole song here and not just the lyrics. It's a song that's heavy in the voice and tone but the music soothes my heart like honey. I like the indifference in Tanita Tikaram's voice and the fact that it's so heavy she almost sounds like a sad grown man. Anyway this is my space and i dedicate it today to this song which I am listening to as I write this.

All God's children need travelling shoes
Drive your problems from here
All good people read good books
Now your conscience is clear
I hear you talk girl
Now your conscience is clear [x2]

In the morning when I wipe my brow
Wipe the miles away
I like to think I can be so willed
And never do what you say [x2]

[CHORUS:]

Look my eyes are just holograms
Look your love has drawn red from my hands
From my hands you know you'll never be
More than twist in my sobriety [x3]

We just poked a little pie
For the fun that people have at night
Late at night don't need hostility
The timid smile and pause to free
I don't care about their different thoughts
Different thoughts are good for me
Up in arms and chaste and whole
All God's children took their toll

[CHORUS]

Cup of tea take time to think yeah
Time to risk a life a life a life
Sweet and handsome
soft and porky
You pig out 'til you've seen the light
Pig out 'til you've seen the light

Half the people read the papers
Read them good and well
Pretty people nervous people
People have got to sell
News you have to sell

[CHORUS]

a quiet dirt road

2008-09-07T23:27:00.000-07:00

I just found this half written post which simply says -A quiet dirt road
Why did I write that? I have no idea. I think it's like reading your diary and getting confused about what you could possibly have been thinking when you scribbled some strange thing.

People have a habit of signing their name on pieces of paper. Some people overwrite till the letters become fat and unreadable. Some people write a phrase over and over again. I write these words at least once everyday- ' These things have always been the same, why worry now' They are words from a song called Why worry by Dire Straits. I've been writing them for years and years. It's a good thing to remember. I think.

A quiet dirt road hmmmm.... I still can't imagine what the next tine could be.

Ramadan

2008-09-01T01:13:00.000-07:00

I will write about Ramadan but first let me talk about one of those days that turned into a firm resolve. Some time back I decided to get off the Fancy bus earlier than usual to go to my favourite restaurant and pick up food. All was well till I got the food and came on to the main road and there were just no taxis. I walked for about 40 minutes to the closest mall only to realise that there was an impossible long queue. I tried to stop a taxi and he waved me away. I was sweating profusely and steaming inside out. I wanted to throw stones at the taxi. I am now resolved to learn driving as soon as possible.

This doesn't end. I crossed over to the other side of the road and realised two women were standing ahead of me to get into a taxi first. I moved forward and so did they and we did this dance for a while till one taxi finally stopped and before those two could get in I literally pleaded with them to let me get in so I could drop them and then get home. They were Indians too and relented. I got in.

We proceeded to exchange names and professions. She looked like a nice 28-29 year old going home with her mom. When we came to her house she said-" Aunty" At first I wondered why she was calling her mother Aunty then she tapped on my shoulder and asked me for my phone number. I was in total shock and dumbly gave her the number. 'Stupid cow bitch'I said to myself.

The journey continued and the taxi driver began talking about ramadan and gave me a lecture on the saying of the Quran. The fact that a baby can breathe inside a mother's womb is Allah's miracle. He insisted that if a man accepts Allah as the supreme one and recites a certain verse and declares himself a true muslim he will go to heaven. It doesn't matter if his deeds are good or bad. My head was ready to burst by now and the traffic was millimetering. After a lot of arguing which included, childbirth and idol worship and how people from other religions became muslims but no muslim ever becomes a hindu.

I told myself over and over again-" I will learn to drive! I will learn to drive no matter what! Even if they fail me a dozen times I will never give up till I get a license!"

So that brings me to Ramadan. You cannot drink, eat or smoke in public. All devout fasting Muslims leave by 2 PM. You sit around finishing the leftovers. But I can eat lunch. So HA

handshakes

2008-08-31T05:49:00.001-07:00

i just shook someone's hand and it was like holding a dead rat. If you're going to shake hands do justice to the gesture. Be friendly and firm about it. On the other hand don't crush the other person's hand and shake it up and down like you're drawing water from a hand pump.
I hate rats.

Office office

2008-08-26T03:16:00.000-07:00

It is a typical day at work. It is my second week here s i think i know what a typical day is. I am loving the fact that I have the company notebook, my own landline, a leather backrest in the toilet, Large windows overlooking swimming pool, company pencil, company email id, large cafeteria with buffet lunch mostly arabic( salads, humous, khoubous, rice, pasta, meat with gravy, meat without gravy and excellent dessert), shared files on itunes and chilled out boss.

I hate waking up and realising I have missed the bus and then taking taxi, sweating on my neck when asleep in cab, losing things in cab like my rose quartz crystal angel, jostling for a window seat in the bus every day, walking in the heat for 20 minutes from bus stop to home, lebanese people talking in arabic all around me, one guy in particular shouting and scaring me saying "SUBWAY!!"

In case I forgot to mention it the best thing about working is listening to Dire Straits all day !

Thesaurus of gestures

2008-07-26T01:18:00.000-07:00

I find small gestures very exciting. I spend a considerable amount of time thinking about why people make them and the various meanings they have.
First of all is the wave. The single wave which signifies the final goodbye. The wave at the railway station which involves the whole arm meaning goodbye and I'll come back. The simple show of the palm without movement which probably says simply OK bye then.
Interlinking of fingers and rubbing the thumbs together which mostly speaks of not knowing what to do and sometimes of impending tense time.
Looking directly into the eyes of someone as they speak and then looking away most of the time brings a pause to the conversation or changes the subject. Holding your face within your palms simply means you have little to say as it actually makes speaking difficult causing your face to bob up and down.
The head turn is one of the most exciting ones. As you walk behind someone they turn around hearing the sound of your shoes or just sense your presence. A smile may or may not follow depending on the mood and familiarity of the person you are following. A lot of times if the woman in front of you has a good head of hair she will swish it as her head turns back to it's original position. Then there is the head turn at the curb when someone who nearly disappears at the corner glances back to see who is behind him or her, this is simply out of curiosity and almost never involves a smile. And then there is the lovers' head turn when a member of the opposite sex turns, looks, barely smiles and then continues to smile when their face is safely out of vision. This is very exciting for other people as the object of affection is unable to see nearly half the gesture.
Then there is the kiss kiss gesture. When you meet someone they kiss the air around you twice involving no actual cheek touching. Considering how intimate kissing is this one is a very formal gesture and needs expert co ordination as a lot of times heads bang into each other if you go in the wrong direction which i do a lot. I personally prefer hugging which is a more casual and affectionate gesture bringing about instant good feelings.
That's all for now. I will add to this as more gestures come to mind. Do you have favourite gestures?

34

2008-07-03T03:39:00.000-07:00

It's been a long time and apparently so much has happened and yet I sometimes get the feeling that my quest is ultimately to just pass the time. Every now and then I get the feeling that that's what life is about- passing the time, keeping yourself busy and engaged in activities which can keep you unaware of yourself till you sleep and strange dreams come out of nowhere to remind you of an untouched world within.
All in all things are quiet and I like that. I am a big one for silence but even I rely on the television to drown out unnecessary thoughts though with a liberal sprinkling of the mute button. Lately when I talk to my mother on the phone I try to imagine what she looked like when I met her just a few days ago and she seems close and yet so distant. Her daily chatter filled with news, problems and good advice though relevant seems for a younger person.
I had a birthday. I'm 34 and passing the time. Fortunately with an amazing ease.

New paintings

2008-04-16T07:51:00.000-07:00

I have started a new blog for my paintings. Do visit www.coloursandfingers.blogspot.com

time melts along

2008-04-13T04:13:00.000-07:00

time moves along and i feel as though i am exhausted just trying to keep up with it... my sleep is full of school friends taking part in dance competitions....there is a nagging pain above my left eye and right shoulder....the very purposelessness of life that i loved irks me now...my colors wait and my canvas is pure white...the days are getting brighter and brighter windows....taxis are getting fewer and fewer...taxi drivers are ruder and ruder...birthdays come and go....people prefer meat over dal....rice gets overcooked...i throw my cards in the middle of a losing game...the dog chews two mp3 players...i want to go back to sleep...I want to wake up feeling all better....I want to go home...to mummy

Little Notty

2008-03-15T04:29:00.000-07:00

Ninna had a severe skin problem so I had to send her to the vet. The vet Dr. Elizabeth has a kennel in Um al quain which is very far from Sharjah. Whenever we go away Ninna stays with her. A filipino man called Jojo who is loud and happy like most people from his country comes to pick up and drop Ninna.

Ninna had to stay with 3e444444zxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx ( that was Notty ) the vet for a week as she is on antibiotics, steroids and blue spray. So I was cribbing to Dr Elizabeth about how much I was missing Ninna as I work from home and she is my companion. So Dr Elizabeth offered to send me another French Bulldog puppy.

Notty came day before yesterday. She is unusually small and makes even smaller sounds. She walked very slowly and carefully only around the centre table. The next day I realised that she whimpers when she has to pee and potty which is very intelligent of her. She slept peacefully in her own bed the first night unlike Ninna who cried periodically her first night with us. Notty follows me sometimes but only for a while. She likes chewing wires, chasing the mop, rolling the ball and then getting surprised but most of all like all puppies she likes to sleep cuddled up.

Anshuman and I have fallen in love with her. Our guess is that no one wanted her because she is so small and gangly. The rest of her brothers and sisters have been taken.

Anshuman wants to keep her but I can't manage another dog even though she is so beautiful and I love her so much. She goes back tomorrow. My little Notty.

The gym

2008-03-08T03:49:00.001-08:00

So I joined a gym for the third time in my life. First time was before the wedding when I went for 4 days. Second time was in Bombay after marriage when i went for three days.
This time I was reading this book called Secret recommended to me by someone I respect. I got so excited reading the book that I decided I had to do something positive so i got dressed and went looking for a ladies gym that i had seen many times while going to Megamall to watch a movie and shop as a bonus.
I walked fast and asked at least five people where the ladies gym was in a span of about 7 minutes. I always ask for direction sometimes even when i am almost sure i am moving in the right direction. I don't want to be lost and resultantly walk one step more than required. Clearly I needed to be in some form of exercise routine. Finally I asked a Mallu shopkeeper where the gym was and he looked like I was talking greek. The Arab lady next to me finally showed me the way and I had to ask only two more people till I finally got to the lift of the gym building. The building has just been constructed and the lifts were not working. It said- 7th flr- Ladies gym. The thought of climbing up 7 floors took out all the spirit injected in me by the book.
In fact by now i was cursing the book for getting me all stirred up about losing weight. Then an angel came in the form of a woman and called for her friend at the staircase. I asked just to confirm- where is the gym? 1st floor- she replied.
I was filled with many twinkling lights again. I went up and saw about 30 women vigorously doing aerobics to loud music. I signed up for three months instantly seeing myself as my former thin self at the end of the three months.
I went the next day and pedalled on a bicycle for about 10 minutes and then aerobics for about another ten mins after which I went and sat down on the staircase outside for some time because i just couldn't stand. I now go and loiter around for the first 5 minutes feeling amazed at all the spandex that can be worn under an abaya. Woman come wearing make up to the gym. There are mirrors everywhere and you can see how fat your thighs are or how your butt jiggles when you run on the spot.
So after that I push the pedals and count all the calories i am burning. Then the aerobics begins and I like the stretching at first but then the music starts and kilos and kilos of mass begins jumping vigorously including me. I always stand at the back of the class much like school so that I can goof off in between have some cold water and come back to flail my legs and arms around. After a while it gets tough to touch my elbow to my knee and kick my leg forward without actually falling down. My instructor has already caught me once and scolded me for leaving the class early everyday.
I check the time in my watch every two minutes. Today my watch just stopped without a warning at 8 am. In a way it's good becase that way i might just end up doing exercises for longer than 20 minutes.
I feel wonderful when I come home, freeze the livingroom and then take a cold shower. I love the after exercise feeling. I think that I will continue to go and exercise because the next two hours post work out feel amazingly wonderful and so light.
So I will go again today and hopefully exercise a little longer than the last time. Needless to say that I will eat rice and dal for dinner and all the calories will embrace me lovingly and reside in my stomach which is after all a very comfortable cushioned home for them.

PS Jamjar saw my work and will consider to commission me when they require paintings for business spaces and residences. All good.

Good energies

2008-02-29T03:22:00.000-08:00

Some people believe that if they tell the whole world about good things like a job interview or pregnancy ( Both are similar in that one gives birth to a boy or a girl and the other to a yes or a no)something will go wrong. I have never been that way. I soak up love and blessings like asponge. When asked a straight question I find it very hard to lie outright or make up something to hide an important event.
So in that spirit I would like to share a new development in my life. My father suggested that i should paint when i was in Bombay. I bought everything but didn't actually paint. I started painting in Dubai at a gallery called Jamjar about an year ago. I loved making a painting on this huge canvas so much that I decided to start painting at home. I bought an easel. I bought Winsor and Newton brushes which was like a dream come true. I had seen them with someone at NID. She had got them from UK. I envied her so much. It was a beautiful set in a wooden box. I smile as I remember it.
So I started painting and I loved it so much. I put up the pictures here and so many of you responded with so much enthusiasm that i contacted Jamjar. They saw pictures of my paintings and asked me to meet them this Monday.
So I have been thinking about it all this week wondering if they will like my paintings or not....hoping and praying. It's easy to paint in the safety of one's home but tough to put one's self out there for others to judge. It's like sending my film to a festival and then getting a we regret to inform you email in return.
I like painting so much that I don't want to ever stop doing it. Sometimes I am filled with hope and sometimes with a feeling of impending doom. I honestly do not paint for an audience. I never want to. I still wonder if they will hold up in the eyes of strangers.
It's the kind of thing that makes me want to curl up and sleep for a long time but even then I dream of taking an English language exam that I cannot read.
So I want all of you who read this to send good energies my way. I need them.

Kiterunner

2008-02-14T07:26:00.000-08:00

I watched the 4.00 pm show absolutely alone in the theatre. The movie clearly did justice to the book even though two scenes were cut by the censor here. My eyes welled up at the plight of the sweet brave Hassan. Those who haven't read this book should see the movie and those who have will watch it for sure in any case.
I got a bit spooked when the lights went off just before the trailers began but all was well again when the screen lit up.

Thank you

2008-02-06T10:11:00.000-08:00

Everyone who took the time to see and appreciate my paintings. Felt good. I have painted some more since the last post. will post pics soon. till then Thank you so much.