more faces. more i see, lesser i remember. cutting short conversations, listening but not really. in the midst of it all, but nobody's in the end.
getting there or starting over?
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
State of my mind
I find myself in the darkest of corners, and there, out of nowhere, light spreads within.
Ofcourse I try to change the people I care for. And then, again I realise it too late. A slap on my forehead, a stupid giggle and I come back to my senses. Wasted effort, wasted energy. also, spent emotions. Sigh.
Nobody changes. They do, but when they have to. Nothing you say or do makes a difference. If it does, its a silent difference. They wont let you know you have made that difference. On the outside, you will never know. And that will hurt. Almost as if it didnt matter, you didnt matter. And while it definitely did matter, you will never be told.
The friction is too much, you want to say it out loud, but ofcourse your ego holds you back. It makes sure you are silent and passive. It manages to break what you build in a matter of time. Happens everytime.
And yet, everytime, you let it happen. You dont mend your ways. ever. And then, you want the other person to change.
Huh, hypocrite.
Ofcourse I try to change the people I care for. And then, again I realise it too late. A slap on my forehead, a stupid giggle and I come back to my senses. Wasted effort, wasted energy. also, spent emotions. Sigh.
Nobody changes. They do, but when they have to. Nothing you say or do makes a difference. If it does, its a silent difference. They wont let you know you have made that difference. On the outside, you will never know. And that will hurt. Almost as if it didnt matter, you didnt matter. And while it definitely did matter, you will never be told.
The friction is too much, you want to say it out loud, but ofcourse your ego holds you back. It makes sure you are silent and passive. It manages to break what you build in a matter of time. Happens everytime.
And yet, everytime, you let it happen. You dont mend your ways. ever. And then, you want the other person to change.
Huh, hypocrite.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Swimming happened!
It was as early as 5am and I was feeling sick. I wanted to sit inside the bathroom and never come out. It happens every time I start something new. Yes, swimming is new. And it was supposed to be amazing (atleast in my mind, it always has been). For two reasons; one, it was a water sport and I love lounging in water and two, it was my first bold attempt at learning something totally on my own! That was a kick alright.
So when three of my friends suddenly stirred up a swimming plan, it seemed like they were kidding at first. Of course they were. They were planning to attend classes from 5am everyday; you had to be kidding me! I haven’t seen how 5am looks like in my entire life! And how will I be going to work everyday after all that activity? Crazy.
But they were serious and went on making more and more plans. Slowly I got into it, not knowing when the fun summery plan became a distinct possibility.
Saturday saw me and one of my buddies buying swimming gear from CP. And just like that, I had invested in it. There was no looking back now.
That is the part where I sat inside the bathroom, fearing the pool, the short swimming costume, and everything in life. The friend who had the car called in sick and that left us with no option but to wait till 6am when we could get an auto.
As soon as we reached the place, (A huge and posh sports complex in South Delhi) we hurried through our forms, and in my haste I told the receptionist I would need coaching. To that, she added a grand extra to my fees (sigh) I was investing way more than I had planned and suddenly I realized with my birthday two weeks away, I wasn’t really being very wise.
Forget wise, I was really stupid, as once in the water, everyone shouted ‘sir sir’ to the only coach around as if he belonged to everyone. Turns out, he did. He didn’t have any clue who was paying extra for his instructions and so was catering to everyone who shouted a ‘sir’. My bad.
So the lesson began. Along with several kids, I was taught to breathe inside the water. The water whooshed through my ears, even after wearing a cap and I thought it would be fatal for my hearing. My buddy said it wont, its common. Ok, part two then.
I was taught to let my body float. I did it and because I wore lenses (I cant wear glasses to the pool, and I cant be without glasses as I wouldn’t see a thing! So lenses it is, with swimming goggles ofcourse) I could see a bit. Some very small leaf like things, a pubic hair I guess, a noodle like thread from something someone wore. Maybe that aunty with a lame board in her hand. She wore ugly shorts of the same colour. I tried hard not to think of my OCD, and remembered real heroes were made from tough situations like these. My fear was the all the above mentioned things, and well, I was doing a good job not thinking much of them.
The coach then told me to let go of the border and start to float a bit on my own. That took a little effort as whenever I started off, inside the water, I had visions like those in Gothika (yes, all kinds of fears I have. You would have thought the only fear one would have during swimming would be drowning or the fear of water. And that’s the only fear I do not have.) I got all scattered and gulped in a lot of water, looked like a sissy and went back to my corner. Lounged a bit and thought there could be no ghosts with this many fat Dilli ke Punjabis around me, and started afresh. Still all lopsided I kept getting and when I tried to cheat by taking tips from my friend who already knew swimming, the coach saw me from nowhere and lunged at me a fistful of water and screamed ‘baatein nahiiiiiiii’!! I was a newbie, not able to float and and now the entire pool knew that I was lounging. Felt like a backbencher.
One very cool thing I learnt however, is that I can spit out the water I gulp in by mistake in the nearest drain by just half plopping myself out of the pool! Hah! It feels all rustic and cool :P (like omkara or maybe Rambo training in the jungle) also, I know for a fact that getting tanned or not, I am going to love whatever comes next. The water is just so…exciting.
The first day ended when the hour slot rung and we were told the pool has become too dirty, so it needed to be cleaned. So, I was right, the pubic hair was a reality. Ugh.
Swimming, I do not know how soon I will learn you, and if you will totally exhaust me in a few days, but till I do, life in the pool is interesting enough to keep me busy and in a strange way, happy!
Photo courtesy:zevs.net
So when three of my friends suddenly stirred up a swimming plan, it seemed like they were kidding at first. Of course they were. They were planning to attend classes from 5am everyday; you had to be kidding me! I haven’t seen how 5am looks like in my entire life! And how will I be going to work everyday after all that activity? Crazy.
But they were serious and went on making more and more plans. Slowly I got into it, not knowing when the fun summery plan became a distinct possibility.
Saturday saw me and one of my buddies buying swimming gear from CP. And just like that, I had invested in it. There was no looking back now.
That is the part where I sat inside the bathroom, fearing the pool, the short swimming costume, and everything in life. The friend who had the car called in sick and that left us with no option but to wait till 6am when we could get an auto.
As soon as we reached the place, (A huge and posh sports complex in South Delhi) we hurried through our forms, and in my haste I told the receptionist I would need coaching. To that, she added a grand extra to my fees (sigh) I was investing way more than I had planned and suddenly I realized with my birthday two weeks away, I wasn’t really being very wise.
Forget wise, I was really stupid, as once in the water, everyone shouted ‘sir sir’ to the only coach around as if he belonged to everyone. Turns out, he did. He didn’t have any clue who was paying extra for his instructions and so was catering to everyone who shouted a ‘sir’. My bad.
So the lesson began. Along with several kids, I was taught to breathe inside the water. The water whooshed through my ears, even after wearing a cap and I thought it would be fatal for my hearing. My buddy said it wont, its common. Ok, part two then.
I was taught to let my body float. I did it and because I wore lenses (I cant wear glasses to the pool, and I cant be without glasses as I wouldn’t see a thing! So lenses it is, with swimming goggles ofcourse) I could see a bit. Some very small leaf like things, a pubic hair I guess, a noodle like thread from something someone wore. Maybe that aunty with a lame board in her hand. She wore ugly shorts of the same colour. I tried hard not to think of my OCD, and remembered real heroes were made from tough situations like these. My fear was the all the above mentioned things, and well, I was doing a good job not thinking much of them.
The coach then told me to let go of the border and start to float a bit on my own. That took a little effort as whenever I started off, inside the water, I had visions like those in Gothika (yes, all kinds of fears I have. You would have thought the only fear one would have during swimming would be drowning or the fear of water. And that’s the only fear I do not have.) I got all scattered and gulped in a lot of water, looked like a sissy and went back to my corner. Lounged a bit and thought there could be no ghosts with this many fat Dilli ke Punjabis around me, and started afresh. Still all lopsided I kept getting and when I tried to cheat by taking tips from my friend who already knew swimming, the coach saw me from nowhere and lunged at me a fistful of water and screamed ‘baatein nahiiiiiiii’!! I was a newbie, not able to float and and now the entire pool knew that I was lounging. Felt like a backbencher.
One very cool thing I learnt however, is that I can spit out the water I gulp in by mistake in the nearest drain by just half plopping myself out of the pool! Hah! It feels all rustic and cool :P (like omkara or maybe Rambo training in the jungle) also, I know for a fact that getting tanned or not, I am going to love whatever comes next. The water is just so…exciting.
The first day ended when the hour slot rung and we were told the pool has become too dirty, so it needed to be cleaned. So, I was right, the pubic hair was a reality. Ugh.
Swimming, I do not know how soon I will learn you, and if you will totally exhaust me in a few days, but till I do, life in the pool is interesting enough to keep me busy and in a strange way, happy!
Photo courtesy:zevs.net
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Like the photo says, off the mark!
Yes its 98.51. and this, even before I took out money for the trip. Ofcourse I have another account but that has just enough to travel, get back, wait-patiently-till-the-30th kinds. I am your brilliant example of young and broke India. It helps when people call you smart and pretty though, as that gives you hope that maybe sometime in the future, my smartness will equate to dollars or pounds.
So this hotshot media house rejected me recently. They called me saying I am custom made for the job and while interviewing me, they realised I hold a similar designation in a different vertical. I had said yes and gone with a lot of hope, thinking they knew I was opting for their said vertical. I really wanted to change my profile and was amazed when this opportunity offered me exactly that. the change.
But as soon as he realised the difference (which was comparable but all in the name of media) in the two verticals, he shelled in completely going to the point of saying 'you know we cant afford to take someone from a different vertical, we have too much responsibility riding on this post.'
I told him how I would be great at it (and knew it was a goner as soon as I said it), I had been taught all that in college for pete's sake!
But protocol. norm. the works.
He let me write an article for 'protocol' sake and once I was done, he asked me if I was active in social sites, esp twitter. Fact is, I hate twitter, it ughs me at how much people can discuss their mundane lives in a line after every hour. So I said, 'yea, on fb, but thats it.'
I dont know how it helped him judge me or if at all, it served any purpose. Its been five days and ofcourse, the job isnt mine. While I cross out this media house for the next couple of years to come, I cant fathom how some news giant that talks of giving unbiased news and being the voice of the public can be so rigid. So stiff, that they cant see over my current profile to my actual skills. Cant see the potential from the article I wrote just because I belonged to a different vertical. How are they the best if they dont even give change a chance?
On with my hunt...ofcourse, with some more salt to taste :P
Photo courtesy: Mark Parisi
So this hotshot media house rejected me recently. They called me saying I am custom made for the job and while interviewing me, they realised I hold a similar designation in a different vertical. I had said yes and gone with a lot of hope, thinking they knew I was opting for their said vertical. I really wanted to change my profile and was amazed when this opportunity offered me exactly that. the change.
But as soon as he realised the difference (which was comparable but all in the name of media) in the two verticals, he shelled in completely going to the point of saying 'you know we cant afford to take someone from a different vertical, we have too much responsibility riding on this post.'
I told him how I would be great at it (and knew it was a goner as soon as I said it), I had been taught all that in college for pete's sake!
But protocol. norm. the works.
He let me write an article for 'protocol' sake and once I was done, he asked me if I was active in social sites, esp twitter. Fact is, I hate twitter, it ughs me at how much people can discuss their mundane lives in a line after every hour. So I said, 'yea, on fb, but thats it.'
I dont know how it helped him judge me or if at all, it served any purpose. Its been five days and ofcourse, the job isnt mine. While I cross out this media house for the next couple of years to come, I cant fathom how some news giant that talks of giving unbiased news and being the voice of the public can be so rigid. So stiff, that they cant see over my current profile to my actual skills. Cant see the potential from the article I wrote just because I belonged to a different vertical. How are they the best if they dont even give change a chance?
On with my hunt...ofcourse, with some more salt to taste :P
Photo courtesy: Mark Parisi
Monday, March 22, 2010
Your average IPL night...
Him-Why did you switch off your phone?
Her-Umm, just like that. I was getting a lot of messages, got bugged.
Him-What messages?
Her-Kolkata lost, so all my ‘good’ friends didn’t miss the chance to flaunt that.
Him-So you switch off the phone? You know I call around this time..
Her-You are obsessed with Mumbai Indians. What makes you think talking to you will make me feel any better right now?
Him-Yaar, I support Mumbai for Sachin. Tendulkar is God. You know if I had to be a fan, I would only be Sachin’s. And I am.
Her-Half the world is. What so cool about that?
Him-Excuse me? Are you telling me being a Sachin fan is a bad thing?
Her-Am just saying being a Sachin fan is a safe thing. I mean everybody on planet earth knows he is demigod, he is a legend. Being his fan is herd mentality.
Him-And being a Dada fan makes you what? Unique?
Her-No, but he is one hell of a fighter. You cant put him down. He just keeps getting knocked out and he just comes back better. Falls again, rises again. Killer guy.
Him-He is old. He should just quit. He falls too bloody often.
Her-He has been the most successful Indian captain of all times, Sachin can never be a good captain. He can never instill the killer attitude Ganguly put in the kids like Bhajji, Yuvraj, Zaheer. Why don’t you except the fact that certain people are meant to do certain things? Ganguly is meant to lead a team, teach us about rising from the ashes. Sachin is meant to be an extremely successful, extremely boring cricketer to watch.
Him-Woah! You are on fire! Its okay, chill. Kolkata has lost again. Probably you should choose a different team. Will get to hear your laughter a little more often then.
Her-*Sigh* Lets just go to sleep. Am tired.
Him-Darn it! Cricket does this everytime! You end up fighting with me because of your stupid Dada!
Her-Hey! Am not fighting! And if you have noticed how these conversations go, then why not be careful next time on?
Him-You know what? Talking tomorrow is a good idea. You take care.
Her-Goodnight.
There are some places in your being where only you are allowed to be. Nobody, not even your beloved, can make an entry there. And because of the same reason, its better to go quiet sometimes. Because you cant explain. Because you cant reason. Because, you feel you are not being understood and you never will be. Because, on the other side of the fence, the other person is just as zapped. He is trying to figure you out just as much as you are trying to sort out that place in your system. And mostly, the ends don’t meet. Because mostly, the causes are not really worth fighting for.
But then, that is madness. What is great to you is silly to me. What is the world to me, is maybe a speck in the sand for you. Cant beat you, cant blame you.
That’s how life swings.
Her-Umm, just like that. I was getting a lot of messages, got bugged.
Him-What messages?
Her-Kolkata lost, so all my ‘good’ friends didn’t miss the chance to flaunt that.
Him-So you switch off the phone? You know I call around this time..
Her-You are obsessed with Mumbai Indians. What makes you think talking to you will make me feel any better right now?
Him-Yaar, I support Mumbai for Sachin. Tendulkar is God. You know if I had to be a fan, I would only be Sachin’s. And I am.
Her-Half the world is. What so cool about that?
Him-Excuse me? Are you telling me being a Sachin fan is a bad thing?
Her-Am just saying being a Sachin fan is a safe thing. I mean everybody on planet earth knows he is demigod, he is a legend. Being his fan is herd mentality.
Him-And being a Dada fan makes you what? Unique?
Her-No, but he is one hell of a fighter. You cant put him down. He just keeps getting knocked out and he just comes back better. Falls again, rises again. Killer guy.
Him-He is old. He should just quit. He falls too bloody often.
Her-He has been the most successful Indian captain of all times, Sachin can never be a good captain. He can never instill the killer attitude Ganguly put in the kids like Bhajji, Yuvraj, Zaheer. Why don’t you except the fact that certain people are meant to do certain things? Ganguly is meant to lead a team, teach us about rising from the ashes. Sachin is meant to be an extremely successful, extremely boring cricketer to watch.
Him-Woah! You are on fire! Its okay, chill. Kolkata has lost again. Probably you should choose a different team. Will get to hear your laughter a little more often then.
Her-*Sigh* Lets just go to sleep. Am tired.
Him-Darn it! Cricket does this everytime! You end up fighting with me because of your stupid Dada!
Her-Hey! Am not fighting! And if you have noticed how these conversations go, then why not be careful next time on?
Him-You know what? Talking tomorrow is a good idea. You take care.
Her-Goodnight.
There are some places in your being where only you are allowed to be. Nobody, not even your beloved, can make an entry there. And because of the same reason, its better to go quiet sometimes. Because you cant explain. Because you cant reason. Because, you feel you are not being understood and you never will be. Because, on the other side of the fence, the other person is just as zapped. He is trying to figure you out just as much as you are trying to sort out that place in your system. And mostly, the ends don’t meet. Because mostly, the causes are not really worth fighting for.
But then, that is madness. What is great to you is silly to me. What is the world to me, is maybe a speck in the sand for you. Cant beat you, cant blame you.
That’s how life swings.
Friday, March 12, 2010
never mind
am terribly blah. cant beat my blahness. feel like havent slept in ages. and people at work are so lame, not all, not the ones who are my friends, but mostly. i am tired.
my close buddies who called off their wedding are now gettin married. and am not going. yes, i feel so burnt out and used that my heart is just not in it. so while everyone else will be going and be remembered as true friends for decades and decades to go, i, the only one who patiently heard them both out, even let myself be used in the process, have been left out and will always be scarred for not attending the wedding. it sucks totally.
but i cant attend it still. my heart is really not in it. even the reception, well, let me think. i have two days to go for that one.actually, wish i could just be socially immune for a while.planet earth sucks.except for dogs.
my close buddies who called off their wedding are now gettin married. and am not going. yes, i feel so burnt out and used that my heart is just not in it. so while everyone else will be going and be remembered as true friends for decades and decades to go, i, the only one who patiently heard them both out, even let myself be used in the process, have been left out and will always be scarred for not attending the wedding. it sucks totally.
but i cant attend it still. my heart is really not in it. even the reception, well, let me think. i have two days to go for that one.actually, wish i could just be socially immune for a while.planet earth sucks.except for dogs.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Chaos
She kept chanting to herself that day in the bathroom and washed her clothes vigorously. Yes, she could see it coming back but couldn't let it. It was not supposed to effect her that way again. She could fight it this time.
Too lame life had become, a job with a profile that made no sense, money that whooshed past every bloody month, a future that was chaotic, and relationships that threatened to become full fledged messy affairs if she didn’t pay notice. It was all too much..
A pack of noodles could help. Dressing up in her warm loose clothes that made her sing 'aal izz well' inside her heart, she went and put some water in a pan. Then she looked for a pen and a sheet of paper and started to scribble impatiently. Like if she stopped, the thoughts would jumble up and the words would come all together and become a line of unreadable gibberish that was becoming her life.
She put in the packet of spices into the boiling water and then retrieved it, half burning her fingers. This would be alright. Everything would be. She just needed work, some work, any work. She cracked the egg and poured it into the pan and randomly stirred it with a spoon. Not the kind of noodles her mom would approve of. But the kind she would have anyway.
The aroma brought back some sanity. She knew what was to be done. She just didn’t know how long it would take till some support came by. A signal, that yes, she was going the right way. She was walking a path that had a single broken, faded milestone and she had to bend down on both knees and scratch the surface to know how much more she had to walk to reach where she was headed.
Ten years back, she had dreams. When she would hit this age, she would be 'here'. And now, that 'here' seemed nowhere in sight. What was there, was a lot of things she hadn't foreseen.
Putting the noodles in a plate, she took a mouthful and burnt her tongue immediately. Like a sign from someone powerful up there, a sign that read 'take it slow or you'll burn down'.
Slow.Easy.Gradual. Things that never came naturally to her. A character attribute she had to build and was nowhere close to have achieved. And till she attained those virtues, everything about life was about lessons, it seemed.
To learn what love is, have a heartbreak first.
To know money, don’t have it at first.
To know what character is, lose it on your way to true love first.
To know sacred friendship of those few dear ones, fail a hundred times first.
To know what success is, slug it out first.
Lessons.
Life is a bitch.
She felt full after all the noodle eating and felt calmer.
Maybe food was the answer to everything.
Too lame life had become, a job with a profile that made no sense, money that whooshed past every bloody month, a future that was chaotic, and relationships that threatened to become full fledged messy affairs if she didn’t pay notice. It was all too much..
A pack of noodles could help. Dressing up in her warm loose clothes that made her sing 'aal izz well' inside her heart, she went and put some water in a pan. Then she looked for a pen and a sheet of paper and started to scribble impatiently. Like if she stopped, the thoughts would jumble up and the words would come all together and become a line of unreadable gibberish that was becoming her life.
She put in the packet of spices into the boiling water and then retrieved it, half burning her fingers. This would be alright. Everything would be. She just needed work, some work, any work. She cracked the egg and poured it into the pan and randomly stirred it with a spoon. Not the kind of noodles her mom would approve of. But the kind she would have anyway.
The aroma brought back some sanity. She knew what was to be done. She just didn’t know how long it would take till some support came by. A signal, that yes, she was going the right way. She was walking a path that had a single broken, faded milestone and she had to bend down on both knees and scratch the surface to know how much more she had to walk to reach where she was headed.
Ten years back, she had dreams. When she would hit this age, she would be 'here'. And now, that 'here' seemed nowhere in sight. What was there, was a lot of things she hadn't foreseen.
Putting the noodles in a plate, she took a mouthful and burnt her tongue immediately. Like a sign from someone powerful up there, a sign that read 'take it slow or you'll burn down'.
Slow.Easy.Gradual. Things that never came naturally to her. A character attribute she had to build and was nowhere close to have achieved. And till she attained those virtues, everything about life was about lessons, it seemed.
To learn what love is, have a heartbreak first.
To know money, don’t have it at first.
To know what character is, lose it on your way to true love first.
To know sacred friendship of those few dear ones, fail a hundred times first.
To know what success is, slug it out first.
Lessons.
Life is a bitch.
She felt full after all the noodle eating and felt calmer.
Maybe food was the answer to everything.
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