Category Archives: Don't want to talk about it

unpleasant things that would best not be remembered but must go down here to remember the lesson learnt. :| sigh..I have many of those.

losing sight to blossom

In this moment, as I write my dissertation, I am attempting to speak about personal meandering spatial imaginations. But as I explore new spaces, I am losing sight of home.

But I want to tell home, that oh dear home
I am only going for a stroll,
would like to be away for a short while
to freshen up my mind and be with myself.
With my thoughts cluttered, I am unable to say this
all I have is an uncertain whisper.
when I am back, I would like to fly upwards
and blossom with home.
in any way at all
in any way it will be.

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The summer of my Mphil dissertation

Its been a little more than a couple of months that I have started writing my Mphil dissertation and there are a few things I would like to share about this experience. Since I am going to go through this beautiful distress of an Mphil only once in my lifetime, might as well keep some record of how this feels.

Mostly, It feels like shit. This life of discipline, where one needs to be working on the dissertation relentlessly, is not one I prefer. At the moment, I wake up every weekday at 6.30am to go for Yoga. Once I return and finish my daily chores, I head to the library to spend the entire day there till about 11pm. While some days are great, others suck. Sometimes I manage to write about 2000 words of this damned thing that no one will read. On other days, I write about 200 and read too much to make anything of it. Then there is the superfast wi-fi in the JNU library which entices people like yours truly to watch endless videos of stand up comics that make me existentially question my purpose on earth and music videos which I silent dance to in my seat in the library. Ofcourse, however the daygoes, its my own doing. Still, the routine of writing everyday about one topic, rather ranting for some 50000 words about something hat doesn’t really matter, makes me wonder what the point of this whole exercise is. Well, but like all things,  it has been begun and so it must be wrapped up well, packed and put away.

This makes one feel like tossed cabbage. – Chopped up , high strung, damp, emotional. Actually I have no idea why I said it feels like cabbage-just felt like the right image.

I have exactly 1 month to finish everything. July 15th. 30 days to go.

PS. While I am at this, I also am continuing with Gati work. unbelievable really, the stuff I get myself into.
Oh and did I mention this is the summer  of my mphil dissertation, which I am writing from Delhi, where its 45 degrees Celsius on a good day and 36 degrees at night.

 

 

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My first long-distance relationship

There are a few things I remember about him. But with each passing year, my memories of him dwindle and I forget that they were ever there. My first long-distance-relationship. My father.
I am told that, as a little girl, I once proclaimed that I wanted to marry a person who would be just like him. A very special person, full of kindness, joy and warmth, he was always my hero when I was growing up.
He was a fairly strict, disciplined in many ways but totally lacked it in other ways. He would make uswake up early even during our summer holidays and go out for a jog or to the park. On most days he would accompany us. But he would come back from that exercise and take a long siesta in the afternoon, this made my mother very angry. She said that there was no point to his morning walk if he slept right after a heavy lunch!
My father made me learn the multiplication table upto 15 x 15, front to back, back to front, just when I was 6 years old. He was of the opinion that intelligent children ought to be strong in mathematics. He was a chartered accountant himself. Unfortunately he din’t do his own personal money maths too well, so he was in a lot of debt. This part about him being bad about his own money is my mother’s opinion. I think that he cared about us so much and loved us so much, that he wanted to leav no stone unturned in giving us a good education. Even if it was difficult for him to pay the school fee each month, or send us to hobby classes such as dancing and tennis, he made sure we never gave it up. He had a passion for life and his motto, of live and let live was something he followed to the T. He lived large and was always kind to everyone. His zest for life is evident in all the things that inspired him and tat he shared with me. In class six, he sent me letter on a yellow page. and attached the letter was the poem that still remains among my most cherished ones. It was called Don’t Quit.
When he came back home from work, I could hear the jingle of his keys one the second floor, even as he entered the building on the ground floor. To me it was the most joyous sound, of my father returning home. My favourite person in the world returning home to spend the rest of the evening with me!

It was quite a shock to me when I stopped hearing it. At that time I think I dealt with it pretty well. Looking back, I think I looked upon it almost as a fancy event. That my father had gone to another land to save us all from hunger and despair was a superhero fantasy. I believed we would go and join him again and be like the family we were, once again.

I just realized that I have even been writing of him in the past tense!

I am not sure when I realized that it was going to happen that way. Some time after my father left, it was my mother, my brother and I.
We learnt to make all decisions independently without having to consult my father, or even eachother sometimes. If my mother din’t feel like cooking, she would independently decide that we were eating out. It was just the 3 of us for so long and for the greater part of my memory. (It has almost entirely been just the 3 of us in my brother’s memory. I wonder how he feels about this all.) This is why a lot of things I know instinctively are for 3 people. I know the measurements of rice, dal, vegetables that need to be cooked for 3 people. I know the cost of living for 3 people. I know water quantities used and number of luggage bags and life lived by 3 people.

I have forgotten what it is like to have appa around, often forgetting him altogether. I think of him a bit later than one would think of their father, when I want to share a good or bad news. I have few things to say to him and now, as I have grown up, all the fights that come from generation gaps have manifested themselves. This has made communication even more strained and difficult, for two people who already spoke less. Two people who are so intensely bound together by blood and truth and love, but have forgotten to love.

But perhaps its only me who has forgotten to love. I wonder how he feels about this. I know that he thought about us all the time in the beginning. But I am wondering about now. I wonder if he is moved by love or if he thinks of us forlornly in an alien manner.

I suppose he wants only the best for us and wants us to be happy. as I do wish for him.

But this is only in the times that I think of him. I am sorry and I sad about this, but it its true that these times are few.

My father was my first long-distance relationship.
and it has taught me things about myself, it has determined how I interact with people, my desire for intense privacy, my desire to trust few, my desire to seek for people and then run away on finding a hand to clasp. Perhaps it will change one day, but for now, I know that it certainly has moulded how I feel about relationships, and deal with people who I am distanced from.
Out of sight, out of mind. Not necessarily “out of mind”, but certainly cast aside. With friends and relatives, I pick up from where we left off and am absolutely fine with it.
But perhaps there are relations that are not meant to be cast aside. This is where it begins to hurt and I fear to let another person close to me, believing he would leave to go far away.
Leave a gaping hole.
An empty seat in a table meant for four.

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Filed under Don't want to talk about it, Journeys and travels, La vie, Me, My favourite people

the fear of fear

When I was young, I proclaimed that my biggest fear is fear itself.

fear of stepping out of my comfort zone, fear of the unknown, fear of acknowledging my unhappiness, fear of turning more unhappy, fear of failure. fear of not trying out of the fear of failure – these were things I loathed and was sure I wasn’t the kind of person to fall into that trap.

But not very long after living a sort of grown-up life, I can already feel fear of the unknown grow upon me. It feels like creepers crawling up my legs, coiling around my heart, pretending to embrace me but really choking me. On some days I thank nightfall to have arrived so that it is finally time for me to sleep, or atleast try. Some mornings bring dread with them and despair at what the day would bring.

I am sure it is just this phase and it is going to be all good very soon.
Basically I have to present my synopsis on May 1st. There is some annoying politics and favouritism going on in my Department and I don’t have the energy or time to deal with it. But as life would have it I have been flung right in the middle of it all and I do hope we all get away unscathed.
Also at work this is the exact time when I am most most busy because of a big ass big money event coming up on May 18th that I am incharge of. Also the two people who are sort of above me at work will not be here in the intermediary 2 weeks before the event so its going to be some very sweaty business. I hate that any of this has anything to do with money.

On some days I can realize that I have been very privileged with such a good comfortable birth, nice family, lovely friends, good education and the possibility to dream as I do. Its even a privilege to be able to think about what I really want to do as many in this country don’t  have such a luxury or option.

But but..c’est difficile! Growing up is certainly not easy. My dreams are blurred, I believe in much lesser- in myself as well as in the world, I am lost in what I want to do or why at all. If the purpose of life is to leave a legacy, change it for the better, or just live comfortably and die smoking a joint whether or not the next person has food to eat – I do not know.

I wonder what I wanr. I am afraid to know what I want.

 

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Filed under Don't want to talk about it, Issues, La vie, Thoughts/ Ideas

delhi times

I left something in the hills.

This was during the recent trek in the Himalayas. I left something in the hills there. A little joy, a little love, and came back with a promise to return.
May be when I go back next time, I’ll get some of the weather back. Delhi needs it. and I emphasize, Delhi needs it.

I came back here four days back and although its supposed to be monsoon, I have not even seen a drop of water fall from the sky. Not even a bird has pissed down. Who ever in the first place decided that Delhi was a habitable place when they first started settling man. WHO?!! Its terribly hot and humid here and lately, the irritation level has been so high that getting any closer than 2 cms to even your  best friend can result in a sparta like reaction. You know like this-

“Yea we are fucking meeting after more than 2 months but don’t fucking hug me! and if you step any closer, I’ll shower you with my sweat! It’ll be sparta forevuuur!”

Yougaiz, I hope, are in a better place. Is it raining where you are? Sweet blessed warm showers like Bombay? I am longing for the smell of wet earth.  By the way, did you know that there was a word for that lovely smell- its called petrichor.

 

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Filed under Don't want to talk about it, Journeys and travels, Why?

#Don’tThinkAboutIt

Its just sad how when one is in a sad situation, the freak brain tries to somehow connect it to every song you listen to, relate to it and makes one feel miserable.

For instance, how I am noe relating this fabulous song by Adele with the whole KB thing.  Sick! But things have already gotten better you know. Its been One week since the event, and I already find myself thinking about it much lesser.I hope I am able to forget.

PS: Don’t you think Adele is a really great singer?! She has a very wide vocal range and a voice quality that is so appealing and soulful.

 

 

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‘Love’ in table format and how it ended

I just got off the phone with KB a couple of hours back and we have decided mutually (after being put forward by me) that we are going to end whatever it was or wasn’t between us. I guess you don’t know the history between us, I’ll write about it sometime. But it should suffice to say that I have liked him or the idea of him since 8th standard. Thats 8 years. 😐

Anyway, this is how I came to the decision.By making a table.(Sorry, its not too neat. )

             WHAT I KNOW        WHAT I DON’T KNOW
What I had once for KB was love Do I still feel like that? Does he like me now?
One falls in love more than once in life (I heard this on Discovery Channel so its scientifically proven) Do they fall out of love before they fall into the next?
I have an illusion of him that I love. Have I created an illusion of myself for him to fall for?
It will be a while (atleast till October) before we meet Is it a matter of time? Is it worth waiting for longer?
He doesn’t know everything about me, I don’t express all to him. If I do express, will he care?/be interested in knowing?/understand? Will he still like me?
Love is good (I try to believe so). Am I capable of being constant in it?

I tried answering the ‘What I don’t know’ part of the  table and I realized that as things are now, this can’t go forward any more and can’t work out.

So two nights back when I wrote this and decided I will tell KB that we shouldn’ go on with whatever this is because he will be hurt in the end, so it better be now. I also had a feeling that I like him now also just because I am so used to that idea, its comfortable. It used to be faraway and unattainable and I could always escape to it. Now I don’t know if I want it anymore when it is attainable. Two reasons- 1. May be I romanticized him to be better than anyone can really be.  2. The whole commitment thing SCARES ME.

I also decided that he probably doesn’t like me so much either. Because we hadn’t spoken for a week which happens often. I wonder if this is because of ego and if it was , then its completely contradictory with what they say about love.But the next morning after I wrote this,he called up and I got confused again. He was so nice that I din’t have the heart to bring this up. Also, I din’t even feel like hurting that sweet kid.

I decided that Either I am a bitch now, or I am a bitch later. But its got to happen sometime or another.So I went ahead and wrote him a mail to him because he is so lazy and was sleeping at 12.50 am.Ok I know tahts late. But he is still a lazy boy ok.

He finally read it today and we spoke about it. He said he wanted to talk about it too, just that he was confused. Some girl had asked him out a while back. They are not dating or anything,but he was just considering. He was going to tell me about it.

Anyway I told him that if he really considered me his friend he would have told me unhesitatingly. I tried to convince him that he doesn’t need me, he has friends there in that city and that we need not talk anymore. He protested about these things. But I told him that it complicates things for me, and that I am a hyperventilating person, this is a stress for me that I can’t handle. It is also for his good because he ought to get space to look around for other people.and not be complicated or confused or doubtful with me being around.He said maybe we can check it out later when we are in the same city to which I said that we need not look into the future so much. As far as being friends is concerned, there are too many hang ups to deal with. Its best left alone. He seemed a bit upset about it but again got the good boy award by saying ‘ok, If thats what you want.’ Thus, it was mutual. Especially because he had been toying with the idea himself for a while.

So anyway its over now. If it means anything at all, I have removed him from my speed dial.

Obviously we were never together so this is not a break up. But I guess on a mental level it is one, And altthough I am the one who initiated it after thinking it through thoroughly, I might want to cry. 😦

I just hope that I remind myself of all the reasons behind why I took this well thought out discussion which is for his and my best welfare. Even if it might make us really really sad right now.

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Filed under Don't want to talk about it, La vie, Love and all, Me

When I can’t make “When I grow up..” statements

Whenever I call or text someone to wish them on their birthday, I find myself running out of creative ways to wish them and birthday related stuff to talk about. I mean, apart from the usual ‘what are your plans for the day?’, ‘hope you have fun’, ‘where is the party?’, et al what does one ask anyway.

But I think the conversation is easier when its someone’s 18th birthday, atleast in India. There are these list of things you are legal to do – like voting, get married, donate blood, have sex, get a license. So when you wish someone, you can tell how fun life ahead is going to be with all these extra activities they can do legally.

‘You are an adult now. There are so many things you can DO now!’

But what really is Being an Adult? Obviously just arriving at 18 doesn’t make us any more adult than we were a day before. Adulthood comes with certain events in our lives that have nothing to do with birthdays.This may come to you earlier than at 18 years, or if you are lucky, much later.

Something I saw today made me realize that these events are changes that actually hurl you into adulthood and most of the time, its without your permission.

My friend of 11 years and classmate from school lost her father yesterday. Like me, she is just 20 years old and in that confused phase of life when you are done with college and have to decide where you want to take your life. But the events of the last 40 odd days when Uncle got hospitalised and admitted in the ICU and yesterday when he breathed his last, seem to have suddenly moulded her into a woman. Today, when I and a few others spent the day with her to help out with anything and just talk to her, we witnessed how boldly she was taking it in her stride. She did cry occasionally a little and may be she will cry to sleep and cry in the solitude of the bathroom, but her maturity was apparent when he held her wailing mother with a look of strength and calmness and an embrace that seemed to ward off all grief. May be it is today, more than ever before, that she would start living and feeling like a” responsible adult”.  Having said that I still don’t know if that is a real defined term.

But perhaps I got a sense of it today too. Before heading to her place, I was waiting for another friend Busty below her building and saw some kids playing hopscotch. Thats when I realized how it was not very many years back that we went out to play with our friends. When there was a death, it was our parents who had to deal with it and think about what are the correct things to say.  And suddenly now, we had to deal with it and think about what are the right things to say to console someone. Does one smile? When is one supposed to leave? Is there a particular colour of clothing for this occasion? Regardless of these immaterial things, what can you do to make your friend feel ok?

It is said that we should always embrace change and not resent it. But when this change is something out of your control, and something you didn’t even choose, what do you do? May be there is no choice but to accept and embrace it.

But how long is it before you are at peace with it?

It was great when as kids we could play outside till dinner time, watch cartoons, remain untainted and innocent and rarely ever wonder about worldly problems. Though adulthood might be bereft of these things, I have always liked to believe that life, even in its adult version, is going to be awesome despite its ups and downs. But I just wish the transition was smooth for us all.

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Vices. you’re fired.

So the New Year 2011 has started and along comes time to make resolutions. Its not like I think 1/1 every year is like a big deal to be making mega-changes in life. But my Appa has always loved to make the family sit down and write down resolutions for the year. So I thought it wouldn’t do much harm to make some.

That and the return to an old vice called cigarettes (occasional) in the last month and a half (after an abstinence of 1 year and 3 weeks btw) has made me do some thinking in the lines of being a quitter.

Now I must confess I am an occasionally indulge in alcohol and some weed as well. So  I decided I had to quit something. and thus began a soliloquy.

ok. so I’ve got to give up atleast any two of the three. Alcohol maybe? and Cigarettes. But I can’t!can’t?  what do I mean I can’t?! How can some external substance control my actions and leave me to believe that I cannot have enough fun without it on a night out with friends? When I first smoked a cigarette , and drew in my first drag off a joint, I din’t think I would need to write down a resolution regarding these.

These are definitely not part of my every day life. not even every week. But it infuriates me to know that I rely a little on these to stop thinking, get warm , get lose , start thinking , complete a thought, feel like I am flying….

But If I promise to give up something , its a promise to myself.And breaking a promise to myself is so not cool.

I am afraid of failing myself.

But eventually , your truly concluded that she will quit the cigarettes(sigh..) and the alcohol (ohhh maaan.)

Evidently I am not happy about this. But its good to always challenge oneself. So this must be done.  done.

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