musical all nighter

just writing what is going on in my head and life is sometimes the best catharsis i can get. the pure pleasure of stringing words together, writing a tale, making a rhyme or just plain cribbing is addictive...and that is one thing i was always taught: how to avoid addiction and fight, but i wish i could write something good someday! hah! so here i am...having decided to not to sleep, now that it's 2:40am and my alarm poised to ring at 4:15! diwali culminates tomorrow on dooj and bhai flies back at 7am. considering i have to be bathed, dressed and ready for the dooj rituals at unearthly hours(at least for me) i have all the right to crib right now. start with my music, i can blab on so many stuff right now that i am wondering where to start. the music streaming in through my headphones, the elusive post grad prep or this whole magical weekend? i think i'llcoz that is what i have most different from other people. my choice of instruments have been called most memorably "arcane". i can't help but smile when i look at them that way. i have tried to test for myself my tastes by combining heavy metal, rock, pop, classical and 'my' kind and even with my eyes closed and the music on a randomiser i still loved my stuff. a symphony on the santoor, a strumming guitar, a whistling flute and rhytmic percussion...give me Rahul Sharma, Mark Knoffler, Zakhir Hussain, Richard Clayderman, Robert miles and all and i can happily lose myself to the music! there is a very big cool factor associated with rock music and i would be lyin if i didn't admit i tried liking it, but baring a few bands and a track here and there, it never appealed to me as a genre i'd passionately follow. unless i'm prepared for ear shattering, head banging, migraine inducing cacophony, metal to me is painful. more often than not, i listen to those tracks for what they symbolise and what they say. m a lyrics freak for the most the unusual songs and could completely ignore all the allusions and innuendos in John Mayers and darren hayes! such is music to me. it's ironical to think i'm a trained violinist and singer and i've done my fair share of stage singing and the only time i took stage at college, i had people tryin very hard not to snicker and hence be rude to me on my face! what was i thinking by singing mltr randomly? but then again i wasn't thinking... my alarm has finally started ringing so i 'wake' up while it's still dark outside...i wake up while m still awake and i wake up with mark knoffler taking me down the Irish countryside.

just one bite...

i sit here writing this stuff while my classmates at dce are probably struggling to make sense of the last mid-semester paper currently going on. i am not appearing for any this time, hence the luxury of writing this! and i owe this situation to a mosquito. darn her!
it's been 11days since the day i fell ill with high grade fever and in those 11days i have seen myself suffer through maddening bouts of sickness, a stay in the hospital, innumerable needle pricks and meeting my entire delhi based family. quite an eventful series of events which i never wish are repeated, ever again. i have had enough of hospital beds, thank you.
it all started on sunday last while dad n i were happily roaming about cp and before i knew what was wrong i was shivering! back home i tried to quietly go to sleep but with ma not around, my dad wasn't quite sure how to handle a burning girl :P somehow we both pulled through the night and when ma finally came home, began the fever ritual and i slept like i'd never slept before! our erratic cycle pulled up long enough till wednesday when i was in a state ready to kick any and everything because not only was i frustrated at my sickness, i was bored to death! but boredom does stuff to your head, or so my dad now believes. my "bestest" nurse, my dad, says i bored him with tales of how i had ogres sitting on my head beating drums and the three bears playing around in my tummy...he never could stand any of my fantasy shit; a delirious fantasy land was more than he could partake!
so one fine morning it seems my body had had enough and i managed to do a very classy swooning act. alas! i was not in a ball with fancy clothes and handsome men, just me in my pyjamas and my aghast parents! having scared the daylights out of them at night, come morning i was promptly taken to the hospital and i must've been one hell of a sight coz all i remember is sleeping on my way there and then waking up in 'my' room with a drip stuck into my wrist. yeah i also remember shouting when that long needle was poked in, but that's it! i slept after that and slept some more.
now i hold myself patly responsible for my visit to the hospital coz i'd always had a desire to be admitted in the hospital and have peoole visit me! i did manage it, but i regret being so stupid and wishing for it to happen; but a part of me is also glad i learnt my lesson and got my hospital trip. stupid me.
so well i got everyone in delhi to actually visit me. my room always had someone or the other dropping by to check on the little baby and also bring in stuff which i had no desire to taste! but the biggest surprise was bhai walking in! he came in all the way from mumbai coz i was in the hospital and once he was there, nothing was the same. he made sure i had "good" food, read kathi rolls, and a good time of my stay....he got me to actually use the tv in my room and even let me check my mails there itself! bhai u rule!!
oh did i mention all the blood samples i gave? my right arm was literally punctured! i counted about 12 pricks in all in my elbow, my wrist and my back-of-the palm. when my drip was removed, my docs were more than happy not having to struggle to find an unpunctured vein! so they happily attacked my left arm too. ouch!
so now that i look back at this whole episode, i wonder how many times had i brushed off a mosquito as nothing but a nuisance and now i had to suffer through a whole bout of dengue thanks to that one fateful bite?
http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs117/en/

all time fav....

troubled by failings

today(it's post midnight) is the mega hyped solar eclipse of the century. there has been enough talk all over our news-deprived news channels about what it will supposedly mean for all of us. but that's not what is worrying me enough to rouse me out of bed n typing here. what triggered my brain into over-drive was my hand-made tapestry of ganesh ji in my room. the year was very nicely also embroidered into the setting n as i just noticed, it's 10 years old! man was i a creative kid :P

what i wonder aloud here is this: is god vengeful? this is something's that's been bothering me for quite a while. when we listen/read to any scripture be it the Gita or the Bible, there are obvious similiarities that arise. am not doing a comparative study here, but just wish to point out the 'good way' to lead life. there are pre-conceived notions of how life's to be led, how we are to pray and how we are to pay for our sins. and lest we forget, they are very subtely repeated over and over again. it's not that i'm sitting here challenging what is a way for life for all, including me, just wondering why God's potrayed as being too busy to be watching over us directly? why is God is so unbending that there is only a certain way to get his attention? it's not like i want some special powers from him that i'd have to prove to be worthy of it. then maybe i'd consider all this effort!

resonating in my head right now is the satyanarayan katha. i've always been fascinated by it and there was a time when i could recite it with my mother. not that it's been ages, just i grew up and life changed. till a few years back i couldn't wait for ma to call me to recite it with her n then i'd get the kasar! yum! so now that i was thinking of God being potrayed as being vengeful, it's not suprising that i'd shuffle back to it. there is a story of a man who wished for a child and promises to fast on the birth. when the couple was blessed with a bonny baby girl he promises to fast when she marries. on her marriage he forgets. a few years later, the girl learns of the fast and for some reason she is unable to complete it. that is when God decides enough is enough, He punishes the family until the fast is complete.
now analyse the story as to what are we supposed to learn. there are a few lessons i can pick up though can't decide which to pick as final. first is the moral lesson that if we make a promise, we should keep it. simple trust n trade. second lesson is that God keeps track of our actions and loses both patience and can be very vengeful! so is He really not as forgiving as He's made out to be? and frankly it's not only hindu mytholgy, every religion has it and none is lacking in such tales.

the latter observation of the Almighty's personality is rather troubling to me personally. why do we make the Omnipotent, Omnipresent and Omniscient all so human? why should the one giving us a drive have his failings?


google threw this at me when i googled vengence god:
http://www.desiringgod.org/ResourceLibrary/Sermons/ByDate/2005/204_Gods_Wrath_Vengeance_Is_Mine_I_Will_Repay_Says_the_Lord/

scroll down to para 2 onwards...not close to what i was trying to imply, but then a minister wouldn't tell the faithful to doubt.

Saying goodbye...

This is to write what I'd need to say. On Sunday, the most dreadful news came. Of all the people that I had come to love, the few teachers who moulded me into who I am, I lost one of the best. Mrs Flavia D'Souza, or Fundy and she was popularly known, passed away on Saturday. Surprise, disbelief, numbness and a little shock were my first reactions. It was then and there that I decided that the least I could do for her was to be present at her funeral and pay my respects. The afternoon passed trying to find someone who would accompany me for I wasn't sure that I had enough composure to go alone. For Reasons varying, most declined. Finally I found one.

That very evening after I parked my car, it started to rain. Rain was something that had been eluding us for weeks now and all I could think of was how it turned out to be a befitting farewell to a teacher always with a smile, a word of advice and an infectious enthusiasm . It turned out, the entire programme had been advanced. By the time we got there everyone, the family and the school faculty, were on their way out. I did not expect my teachers to recognise me, but most of them did, and did with a wistful eye and even a few hugs. To stand at the foot of the grave of one of your favourite teachers, is not the easiest thing in the world. To stand at the foot of the grave of your teacher and not know what to say it even harder. As Charlie Chaplin put it, I love the rain because no one can see me crying. It was ironical for me to be speechless in front of the teacher who most often trained me on how to speak.

Mrs D'Souza was the youngest of four sisters and a brother. She is survived by her little daughter and her husband who most of us knew through her stories as sonu and uncle. She was born and brought up here in Delhi, went to school to Carmel convent and further to the college of Jesus and Mary. Her stories, her antics and the peculiarity of being the quintessential English teacher somehow became her identity over the generations.

I could never see her conform to anything even remotely resembling the almost boring demeanour of the rest of the teachers. Everyone knew that very few got along with her, sometimes irritating, childlike behaviour. She could be deadly serious, most miserly with marks, rarely angry but more often than not have an air about her that you could not help but be affected by the energy in it. I am yet to see another person who could evoke such emotions in so many people at the same time. I am also yet to see a teacher who could give marks ranging from 0.15 to 8.6 and yet claim that her mathematics was weak! Most don't even try to break up the marks into quarters.

Almost all of us have at least once seen ma'am racing down the road, flailing her arms about and shouting, " let me through, I am late!". It's not every day, only it was for us, to see your teacher racing about just so she wouldn't lose a leave of because she was late and then most properly settled her hair, fix her dress, calm her nerves and go to the staffroom. Another of the peculiarities. Another of the reasons most found her weird.

She had a way about her that I cannot express. She not only went about completing the syllabus but often indulged in discussing things that happened around us. I still remember the one discussion she had with us way back in class eight. It was on surrogate motherhood. Young teenagers have an awkwardness that can only be felt. Topics like these are heard with every eye avoiding the other. She still went on and since she barely got a response from any of us, she gave us her's. Oh we all discussed it among our little groups but we just couldn't say it aloud. Maybe that was the first time I felt the urge to say what I feel without worrying about how others would judge me. From then on I tried to express my opinion where it would be heard and haven't looked back much since.

Talking of English teachers, I can safely say that I have had many over the past two decades. I've had a full-time one at home and some brilliant ones at school. Even though they have taught the same things how they did it was always different. For Fundy it has got to be her grammar and interpretation. Working on my diction or strengthening my arguments, she would always have the patience to not go about always correcting me but finding the way to just alter me enough. And how can I forget, when things got too serious, she'd just go and say,"Angrejan aisa hi hai bachha! kya karen?!".

On Sunday, when we were leaving I met an old friend who was just coming. He called out and when I saw him all I could think of was how she had affected us. All I could think of was S-H-U-G-A-R. I spoke what I had to, I told him where he had to go but I could say no more. I didn't feel up to it and I said as much. The rain just about concealed it all.

On Sunday Mrs Flavia D'Souza was laid to rest above her mother in the family graveyard in the presence of her family, colleagues , students and friends. May her soul rest in peace.

In the name of the Father, the Son and Holy Spirit, Amen!

three guys, a girl and a beautiful trip

this is to document my bangalore-kolar trip, starting on the 7th of june and ending this morning, on 12th of june.

day 1: june 7

early start at 4:30am just so i could make it to the airport on time by 6. we board our hopping flight to blr and after a bumpy flight we land safe at BIAL to see for ourself what's all the hoopulla about the new airport. it's afncy, it's clean n rather small :P

our next mode of transport was a volvo bus to the city and i must say the drive was pretty! we drove around, i'm assuming, the old part of the city which frankly was a bit of a let down considering i was expecting the silicon city to be swankier and smooth. this place was cramped, old and all in kannad! churches, convents and cemetries lined the road and when they thinned, the army took over. the houses were typically sufferring from a bad english hangover and the roads couldn't be wide enough to accommodate two of these high capacity buses! this is bangalore?!

finally we reached our destination by 1 and had for lunch the most unique paranthas...kannad style with sambhar! our tryst with the sambhar was only just beginning, as we were to discover much later. we were driven down to kolar, some 90 km away in what seemed to be a journey meant to tantalise sleep! exhaustion of the past week and the day was fast catching up but the bumpy road and lack of leg room kept us in between sleep and awareness.

kolar turned out to be the msot unexpected place...a protected defence area with luxury rooms! where we'd expected hot southern summer, we found cool coastal monsoon winds. where we'd expected run down basic student accommodation, we got pretty rooms! where i'd expected some confusion and awkwardness at being the only female around, i found receptive and supportive scientists who were more than glad to have a girl around and gave me my own room!

once we got down to business we kept our eyes and ears open wide to the incoming competition and possible glitches in our PoA. not to late to realise we'd found one...our final ppt got promptly left behind in delhi in one of the many pen drives we'd used all year round and considered unncessary for this trip! we didn't have a ppt! which meant we cursed, we shouted we cried and stay up the night! registration and briefing was where i first laid eyes on those who'd come this far like us and those who were judging us equally critically. also watching them was a girl. and like always i found 2 taller than i :(

the night was full of palpable friction and tension and frustration was just setting in. working with guys till late at night was a new experience and something i was sure i'd pull despite all my apprehensions and i must mention the guys made it much easier on me by treating me like a guy most of the time(i'm more comfortable that way) and like a girl when it was most necessary. 

love isolates

i've been wondering hard and long. people often refer to it as pms and mood swings, but it's highly rewarding considering the revelations i make! and lately i've been thinking of the highly over rated phenomena called love. i'm not overtly cynical and i'm not calling grapes sour(as many often attribute it to) but all i'm saying is that the first flush of spring time love often makes people cocooned. all my friends who're in orkut's misnomed terminology are "committed" explain this as love being so satisfying that you need nothing more. 

as the well known song from 'dil apna aur preet parayi' goes:

mubarake tumhe ki tum

kisi ke noor ho gaye

kisi ke itne paas ho

ki sabse door ho gaye

the last few lines are what are i'm refering to. so obviously i'm not the only one to notice that it happens!

now as to what triggered is line of thought, was that i've been missing many of my friends. not in the physical absence way, but emotional way. the connect's been missing and often in the  most blatan t way. maybe it's jealousy. or maybe it's convention but why is it that ur social life though it's on a high when u're with someone, also depends competely around taht person's schedule? i can only imagine it be some extreme form of possessiveness on the part of the lover, but don't they miss some "me" time? 

i still wonder. maybe coz i'm the odd numbered one in parties and sitting alone in the canteen waiting for my friends' gf/bf's classes to begin! good lord!

ps: i still love my friends and i hold their 'loves' dear for all the (apparent)good they've done to them. but i miss my friends!

Pepper spray

all and sundry claim delhi to be unsafe for women. all and sundry keep coming up with protection(read self defense) measures so back in time that one feels exposed in a sleeve-less shirt. the best option i liked was a pepper spray, not that i've tried one, but an option i knew i'd prefer after my taekwondo. so just this afternoon when i was delegated the job to look for one for a family member, i happily walked off to the market to get it. after all i wasn't looking for ammunition!

shop1: spencer's

me: i need pepper spray.

attendant: this was ma'am.

we walk to the condiments' aisle

attendant: ma'am, your pepper. 

i stare blankly

attendant: black pepper, powdered and balls(he said balls!)

me: i need pepper SPRAY

he goes to call his senior

senior: ma'am how do u use pepper spray?

me: for self defense

senior: huh?!

gapes at me...i walk off

shop2: chemist next door

me: i need pepper spray

chemist: kiriyane ki dukan aage hai

no comments

shop3: chemist no2

me: i need pepper spray

clerk: cosmetics ki dukan aage hai

me: it's not a cosmetic

clerk: phir hamare pass nahi hai

shop4: cosmetics shop

me: i need pepper spray

he gapes and gapes and gapes uncomprehendingly. i walk on

shop5: chemist no3

me: i need pepper spray

clerk: cosmetics hum nahi rakhte

me: it's not a cosmetic

clerk: to kiriyana wale ke pass hoga

me: it's not edible

clerk: is it medicated? or theurapetic?

me: it's to immobilise jerks and for self defense.

by now my temper is high, patience low and sarcasm at it's peak

clerk: try archies' gallery

shop6: departmental store

me: i need pepper spray

dumb girl: ma'am party spray archies ya hallmark pe hoga

me: i need pepper spray

dumb girl: ma'am woh kya hota hai?

me: it's for self defense and protection

dumb girl: ma'am chemist pe pooch leejiye

shop7: chemist no4

me: i need pepper spray

attendant(to his collegues): arre koi pepper spray kharidne aaya hai!! kahan gayi woh?

people seem happy n scurry about to look for it.

attendant(suspiciously): ma'am 400-500 rupiye ki hai, aapko lena hai?

me: nahi khelna hai. obviously lena hai!! 

attendant: ma'am 399 ka hai!

me: arre wah! ek rupiya kam?

they pack it, i leave. 

and i heave a sigh of relief! i finally found 1 bottle of pepper spray. and considering i was looking in gulmohar park, hauz khas and kailash colony and people there are supposed to be informed. talk of women's emancipation!

space is a luxury...

weekends my 'social' life hits the roof. i don't know how fast it passes and thanks to the compact size of delhi, like every other day, i spend bulk time commuting. now watching life go by as it were, something came to my notice...for an average middle class fellow life is certainly a funny joke.
picture this: a young gun(no gender prejudice) starts off at a decent salary. the best home would be a small comfy li'l pad(were he/she rich, they'd have a huge empty place and hence my point of it being useless all the while costing too much to maintain). they probably drive a two wheeler(not in delhi, it's dangerous) and when they marry, they share it well enough. then comes parenthood...all the hoobabloo with it. more money, more time and loads more space!! fine slowly and surely they cope. they rise in their careers, they make more money and get lesser time to spend with their kids. but they manage to pull off good schools, better cars and better homes. children grow up all the while still wanting more(thankless bunch :P). then our protagnist starts getting old, their salaries are good, cars are among the best and a lovely house in a good place...only trouble is there is no one to share it with! the kids are gone to make their own nest!
the situation is true for so many. if we'd look we'd find it on every red light we stop at. a family of four on a two wheeler and an elderly couple in a car. i see my own family and i find it pretty true...young couples on bikes graduating to a kid in hand and the first car being one capable of accomodating kids in the backseat; the car changed as we grew and now it's a rarity that all four of us ever need to travel together in one car!!
that whay i say space is a luxury...we came squeezed in the womb and we go wound in bamboo to a pyre. what we do with our time in between is rather amusing. there have been volumes written on how pointless it is to change life, yet we all do. we crave the element of luxury. it makes us feel we've arrived...we've made it!

long time coming...

it's been 52days since i last posted something on this veritable platform for my jumbled existence. not that i've been short of ideas, just short of inspiration to stay put and type out my head!
i've been through conflicting emotions relating to this blog. from,"why should i type out my emotions for people to read?" to, "who even reads this space??". And i'm nowhere close to deciding if this space should stay or go.
i dedicate this one to ms. swayamsiddha das. she made me cross out my last question as to who even bothers to check if i write, she does :) and she deserves this one from me for proving it to me that women, however smart and intelligent can never out do the incrutable jerk-ass emosinal atyachar of the male species! men are jerks. period
i am a jerk magnet, is another story! why do all men prove it one after another that their neurons are connected in the same obtuse manner such that they are all equally big idiots?
men please reply...