Reading the sky..

A lonely fluffy cloud in the perfect blue sky

Like a cryptic message left for someone down below..

Is it standing still or moving or changing slowly?

It makes you think about a celestial story but you don’t know why..

A jet of smoke trailing the airplane in the blue sky

Like a fading white tunnel..

How often do these trails intersect before fading away?

It makes you think about parallel lives, but you don’t know why..

A lonely arrogant eagle circling the blue sky

Like someone on a determined quest..

Do they soar high just to mock the tall proud hills?

It makes you think about going around in lonely circles, but you don’t know why..

With a faraway glance I always scan the blank skies

Like someone in search of answers...

Did anyone ever find answers written on the sky..?

I sometimes wish I could read your mind,but then could you read mine...

Mind's Eye

Straight face me: “If I was not a Naini girl, I would have been a Cali girl..”
Uncontrollable burst of laughter from the other end of the phone, people do appreciate a good sense of humor!

Every time I visit California I am surprised at my ‘wannabe’ streak. However this idea is not so far-fetched, you are either a city girl or a country girl (for lack of better word for all things ‘nature’).
I am just saying give me some green hills, an orange sun, foaming waters, sandy beaches and I am a very content happy person!

On my flight to LA, I was reading about the scientist Nikola Tesla and his experiments with alternating current, wireless transmission of energy and Tesla prong and I feel somewhat inclined to define happiness in terms of physics. You are in a happy state when you find your resonance with a place, person or activity. You connect at your natural frequency, you are most alive, and your mind is unconsciously taking notes (some call it memories). These memories are like an incoherent map of happiness for future reference, a collage of images and experiences frozen in space and time. (key words-incoherent, frozen)

If I was to make a time-lapse video using images captured during my recent trip, the storyboard would look something like this:
LAX airport- colorful pillars you see just before landing, busy, makeshift structures at the arrival section; LA’s palm trees along the roads, curves, always moving traffic. Hit the freeway in the black shadows of the night against the backdrop of the city light. The black shadow of a hill appears right in front of you and as you race by the hill, it recedes and flanks you on the sides. The hills like the loyal sentinels hide away the ocean; however not for long, even the dark shadows of the night cannot conceal the foamy white waves from sight. You slide down the car windows and smile as the lights of passing cars, the wind, the sound and smell of the ocean all hit you at 80mph!

DSLR geeks tell me that making time lapse videos from RAW images is a lot of work but the human brain is unique, it can store millions of memories and string them together in the most beautiful way. I can close my eyes and see the stories that emerge from the images of the peaceful setting sun at the beach, the competitive full-moon following us all the way from Santa Barbara to LA, the picture-perfect postcard town of Solvang with its foreign Dutch air, the cliff with the view of a serpentine railway track running parallel to the shore, the quite ranches and big houses cleverly hidden behind tall trees.

Hopefully all the driving and parking lessons along the way will also stay in my head, at least till the driving test. Here I am completely banking on my Mind's eye!

Living alone

I guess I should keep an updatable memoir to keep an account of my experiences of living alone for the first time. Yes I belong to the set of the people who romance the idea of first time. The second time is never like the first! (end of discussion)
This will be like a record of the lessons learnt or changes in behavioral patterns.  So here goes the first moment of truth.

1. Living alone makes you cruel!
You no more have the King Arthur roommate who singlehandedly slays the army of multipedes that
invade your living space-the creepy insects with beady eyes in shady corners. You no more have the luxury to be saved, you have to pick up the arms and fight your own devils.
Within a week of moving into my apartment, I have already killed two cockroaches. One brutally drowned in hot water and the other beaten to death. I still have to deal with one dead body when I go back home.
My apartment manager tells me matter of fact, ma'am this is the wild South not the Mid-west.
Well I survived the East without killing a beast, (except for an unfortunate lizard which got squeezed between the door hinges and barred me from entering the room till the last trace of the remains was gone- ofcourse the room mate arranged for that). What memories!
This episode became more gory than intended, but hopefully the next will be uplifting.

2. Living alone makes you 'double-check' your every action..(07/07/2013)
'Dobuul check' is a phrase that I learnt in Kolkata, every time I would run a script or execute a query my team mate was in the habit of asking me to 'dobuuul check'. Well he was in the habit of asking everyone to dobuul check everything in life..
I remembered him, as I got out of my bed at 2am at night to just double check that I had bolted the door. Although I remembered clearly of having done so, I still choose to dobuul check.
I was never the person to check if the cooking gas regulator was closed at night or the doors were latched, there was always someone else to look after these errands. Also if this 'someone' was not around to do the same, I slept and woke up just fine with no care about the door or the gas regulator or anything else.. Now sadly the 'dobuul check' module is loaded, although slightly buggy...


3. GoodNight-GoodMorning system break-down..(11/11/2013)
If you can fall off asleep at night as soon as you get into the bed and close your eyes. Life is good.
If you can wake up at the sound of your alarm without getting too 'alarmed’. Life is good.
Needless to say that life is not good when the above 'ifs' don't hold true. Now there might not be a direct correlation between GoodNight & GoodMorning system break down scenarios and living alone but I do see a pattern.
I have come to realize the importance of the ‘good-night’ chat for a good sleep.
Back in the engineering days when we were not copying assignments, a bunch of us would be huddled together watching ‘Friends’- lack of resources for the communal watching. And as you walked back to your room with your roomie, you had the 5mins of good night chat about ‘today’ and ‘tomorrow’.
Kolkata & Hyderabad followed the same pattern, though Kolkata was more fun-it was the time to curse the fools at work- ‘the today’ and making weekend shopping plans ‘the only tomorrow you cared for’.
MBA good night chats were about ‘submissions for today’ and ‘assignments for tomorrow’ at least for the first year.
The point is these ‘today-tomorrow’ chats gave a closure to the day and I could snore away peacefully having told all the stories/complains that I wanted to tell for the day!
Now when I find myself struggling to sleep, I have to pick up the phone and think of the nocturnal people I know. So living alone makes you understand the value of nocturnal friends to complete your ‘GoodNight’ ritual.

 Same is true about the morning ritual, at least for lazy people like me. Sometimes you come across another lazy soul like you and you instantly sign the most sanctus unspoken agreement about waking up late in the morning without ‘feeling guilty’ about it.  There is unconditional moral support when you miss morning class, show up late at work or improvise a super lazy Sunday morning record, and in some instances a partner in crime!
There are virtues of an early riser roommate as well, occasionally her goodness rubs on you and you have a proud day in a month! She is also your safety net when you fall too deep in slumber on an important morning.
Living alone you have to perform both the above roles by yourself to keep the ‘GoodMorning’ system running smoothly..- Not an easy task!
 

Walls vs Doors & Windows

Doors and windows are more eloquent than walls.

Walls stand silently for their entire life-they don’t move, they don’t make funny noises of their own but I have come across many a creaking doors and windows in my life. The best the walls can muster is to fail to block out the outside noise; however each door and window has its characteristic voice-the sound of unlatching and then the sound of force as it snaps open. You can also sense seasonal modulation if you are living in a place that receives heavy rainfall (moisture rich environment).

Walls stare back at you blankly, you don’t gaze at walls and ceilings unless you are really sad and then also the best the walls can muster is their stoic disposition-unaffected gaze. Walls hide away things- block them away from sight.
Walls define space; doors and windows represent a possibility to look beyond the confines of your space. Walls represent inflexible boundaries; doors and windows represent flexibility and freedom..

There are a lot of differences that one can create and write about but essentially the question is when do you create walls to shut out people and when do you leave a door or window of hope ajar?

photo credit sr
After a lot of knocking she finally sent me some pictures from her recent Jaipur visit.
Interestingly Jaipur is a perfect example of how walls(Jaipur city wall) with its seven gates(doors) and windows(hawa mahal) together give the city its unique character- Padharo mhare des!

Gravity

If there was a competition for the most popular word in October, my money would be on 'Gravity'. Let’s keep the rules simple, we decide popularity just based on online count of a word most used/searched/hash-tagged in October.

Just for curiosity sake I googled the string 'most popular word' but it looks like this pageantry has not yet made its debut. Imagine if there was a stock index for words based on the trading (conversations) we do as a society; we have been trading money and words for ages but the written and spoken word has no real (quantifiable) value. We could change all that!
I'll leave this bizarre idea to rest at this point and assuming that a competition did exist, this is why I would vote for gravity. Recently the word gravity pulled me in the following three ways:

• The movie Gravity ( the movie will get all the credit for bringing the 3D spot light on the lowly word gravity and getting all the online votes for our champion word. The movie is an impressive visual treat, kudos to the power of imagination and the hard work to execute it)
• FedEx living PSP session ( there are some aspects of corporate culture that are beyond the control of an individual, you just have to live with it. Interesting choice of word there for all things 'Gravity')
• I went skydiving last weekend and with all the talk about weightlessness and free fall gravity was self-implied.

I didn't think of the competition idea when I was suspended in mid-air and I definitely did not sing 'it’s funny how falling feels like flying for a little while' when I was ‘up’ there. My mind was mostly blank at that point, I wasn't really thinking of scary 'what-if' scenarios but in all honesty there was one thought that did cross my mind.

After the adrenaline of the free fall part had subsided, and I was peacefully suspended holding the parachute. I looked down and realized that one of my shoe laces was open and flying freely in the air. With a whoosh the ‘what-if’ thought flashed in my head, what if I trip and fall on my open shoe lace when we land? I wasn’t too pleased with myself to be hanging in mid-air with a lousy open shoe lace.
Later when I went running the next day, I took extra care to lace up my shoes.  Did I just develop a new paranoia after the sky diving experience (even when I didn’t trip on my shoe laces)? Hopefully not!

But there was one explanation that I found more plausible. I wasn't too nervous about the jump because in my mind I had reposed all responsibilities to the instructor. He was going to do all the heavyweight lifting and I just had to hang in there. People have different comfort levels when it comes to letting go of control and trust the other person to  save your a** when things are beyond your expertise. With tandem skydiving they don’t require you to have any skills to survive, they just expect you to trust the intelligence of another individual and make the jump. I could muster that trust, so I wasn’t too anxious about the jump.
However seeing the open shoe lace, the ownership of responsibility changed, it was something in my control and my mind quickly raced to do the ‘what-if’ scenario evaluation.
So the simple moral of the story is ‘tie your shoelaces’ and the not so simple analogy is about trust, responsibility and letting go. I don’t trust people blindly but when I do, I just let go of my control and no doubt I have landed either upstream or downstream on the Nile and it’s not a just world at both ends and remember it’s the wild Nile..

I have harked a bit far south here, however in the end my final vote is gravity and just to tilt the scale in my favor, I have already used the word 10 times in my blog (there is one in the label) :)

In case you would like to hear the song referenced above:

The Cobbled Road..

A pair of high heels on cobbled streets always attract attention; it is almost like the clatter of the heels wakes up the sleepy road and all the sleepy folks living on it. The lazy eyed old man sitting by the side of the road lifts up his half open eyes from his lazy newspaper to look at the noisy passerby disapprovingly.
The undulating cobbled pathway adds an extra spring to the gait of the high heeled stranger. She does the hop skip and jump as she walks and the locals glance at her disapprovingly as they firmly plant their feet and walk steadily along.
The extra inches make her tower over the rest; it is almost like she unabashedly seeks attention. She must be a snob to walk all tall when the rest of the crowd unpretentiously walks in lowly pair of sneakers on cobbled road.

The old worn out cobbled streets in the hills are the most judgmental of all; they know the old regulars from the occasional visitors and can get nasty with the new folks. Yes she was new to this queer little town and she could sense that the meandering streets here didn't want to make friends with her- the high heeled snob on her high horse!

She tried to block out the nasty remarks of the street and steadied her pace for she had a rendezvous to keep. She still had a long winding distance to cover and she was afraid that she might not reach there in time- It is never a good idea to keep people waiting for long; they ultimately give up on you.

However the disapproval weighed down on her and gnawed at her will to walk further. Was it just the cobbled street that was being unreasonably prejudiced towards her or had she deserving earned the disapproval with her purple plume and high heels?
The chatter in her head kept getting louder, it was disapproval mixed with self-doubt and the fear of failing to make the appointed hour. Her pace slowed and she faltered, overwhelmed by a shortness of breath. Then in a split second she stopped completely turned around and ran as fast as she could in the opposite direction. There was no one to call her back now, she would not stop. Her fears had taken the better of her and she was again the fragile kid who knows nothing better than to run back home when a bully stops her midway on the cobbled road…

Peachy Affair

Almost two years ago I bought peaches from the grocery store’s local produce section here in US. There was something about the peaches that caught my attention, I can swear they had a golden glow (but I guess that will be easily discounted as hyperbole).

The peaches had the freshness and smell that brought back some childhood memories. They almost reminded me of the earthly smell of early monsoon back home in India. You can only romanticize the smells at the onset of monsoon; later the damp smell feel stale and overbearing as the rains and fog envelop you constantly for the next three months.The other good part about early monsoons was the fruity tradition, a carton of freshly picked peaches, apricots, plums & pears- the 'Pahari' fruits made their way from Nani’s orchards in Paharpani all the way to Nainital for us kids.

Needless to say, there was just no way that I could ignore the urge to put some in my shopping cart. They looked good, even better than the ones that made the hilly trek back home and I was already counting the odds if they could rival the old ones in taste. Sometimes you wish your guardian angels can step in and hold you back before you make such comparative tests of character- even if it is just peaches.

Those peaches were heavenly just like the ones from my Nani’s farm. They had the perfect smell and the perfect peachy juiciness. I ate all but one, I wanted to share it with my roommate who was not much of a fruit enthusiast but I was almost certain she would turn a new leaf when she tasted one of these. My enthusiasm knew no bounds and I called up my mom to tell her of my discovery.

I again went later in the week to get some more of those godly peaches, but I didn't get the same ones. They felt drier-almost drained of their juiciness. My quest continued, my roommate introduced me to peach yogurt as a substitute. I also experimented with peach ice-cream for a while, but you can’t fill a void with yogurt or ice-cream. I took this obsession to the next level with peach long island and Snapple peach black tea. But to no avail..

And since that day I am the cursed ones, looking for those same peaches and having never found them again. I buy them each time only to be let down, I have three peaches in my refrigerator but there are nowhere close to the ones I am seeking.

When I dig deeper about my Peach-fanaticism, I can clearly see how the germ entered my system, as a child I was not a big peach fan. When I was leaving India towards the end of July and I was doing my list of things to eat before I leave, my mom especially bought me some Pahari apricots (we no more have Monsoon fruit basket coming from my Nani’s orchard, that tradition slowly ended with her death). I believe those apricots were just my mom’s way to reconnect with a childhood tradition. With that one gesture she had triggered something else. It was not really about peaches or apricots anymore, it was love for a shared inheritance.

So I understand that this peach quest might be a bigger metaphor in my life, but currently my search is on a purely fruity level at least that’s what I want to believe..

Floating Thoughts

Someone always tells you what the best part would be when you start out with something new..

Yesterday learning to float on my back for the first time, I was remembering an old conversation. In his characteristic excited style, dost A had told me long back-"Back-floating is the best part"..Its a weirdly amusing feeling to let go of yourself and be water borne on your back, i couldn't agree less.

And then I was thinking no one can ever tell you what the worst part will be..you have to take the fall yourself  to realize how hard it hurts and if you can stay afloat in the end..

I have just too many thoughts when I swim..
When i am swimming outdoors I tend to think about the universe and the bigger things in life and when I swim indoors my thoughts tend to be more inwardly focussed-the petty challenges of day to day life.

I like to believe that swimming is like a zen state for me with wise floating thoughts!
 

Fluff!

'Certain things they should stay the way they are. You ought to be able to stick them in one of those big glass cases and just leave them alone.'- The Catcher in the Rye

Recently I read two books-'The Invisible Man' and 'The Catcher in the Rye'. The central theme in both the novels explores the feeling of alienation, the search for an identity and a certain disillusionment with human behavior. But it is a different alienation in both the novels- one deals with the racial alienation of an individual and the other explorers the physiological alienation of a teenager.

I have to admit that I cannot write an intelligent literary review for 'The Invisible Man' now (its been a while since i finished reading it). However I have a favorite quote from the book which sums up the essence of the book for me : "I did not become alive until I discovered my invisibility." This is the sad truth of existence for a lot of people in the world and the book is a voice for them.

I choose not to write a literary review for 'The Catcher in the Rye', but I would attempt to create a version of the protagonist post the ending of the novel using some imagery from the novel. Here it goes:

I stand at the edge of this crazy cliff..
It’s all silent here except for the wind having a little tiff-
With the waters below and the Rye fields above-it’s a crazy riff!

It’s all silent here except for Phoebe and her gang
She is Killing me with her old hag act as she runs to tag
I’m thinking again about the Ducks that disappear when winter plays tag
I am sure they all hide somewhere cozily under a bag!

I think about the ducks sometimes when I guard the cliff
It’s reassuring to know they’re safe somewhere in bliss

In my mind I keep going over stuff
It’s like Snowballs that roll around and gather fluff!

The last two lines almost describe my mental process.. and the last word helped me give the blog a name..
I hope I did justice to the title of the post :) The lofty goal to write an intelligent book review will have to wait for a while!

(tag- a playground game that involves one or more players chasing other players in an attempt to "tag" or touch them)

To August

I had almost written off August as an uneventful month only to realize that this month has special significance for all US college graduates. The degree of this significance (pun intended) depends on how much 'college' you have in you.

If you are a fresh student starting in the fall session, somewhere around the second week of August you will get introduced to a whole new set of people in your life, and it will be the start of a new august chapter. For an international student the significance is much more, we usually shore up in the first week of August just to get settled in before school begins.The weather too is on the kinder side to make the transition smooth. And this is the story of that one day in August when we made that leap of faith.

If you are living the sordid work life, this is the month when college football starts and henceforth you get a chance to proudly wear your university colors to work. You would have already paid the $6 monthly fee for ESPN so that you have something to look forward to when you head back home from work for the next 4 months. Better still you would have made a plan already to drive up to the University for a homecoming game and meet some old buddies.

If you are in any kind of relationship with a fellow college-goer, there is a good chance that sometime in August was the first milestone for the chain of events leading to the state of affair as they stand today. I would give milestone credit  to even that lame August evening when the two of you get introduced and have a conversation for the first time and the next day the girl doesn't remember the guy's name and confuses him with someone else and the guy intermediately writes off the girl as a snob with special note to himself- never approach her again!

This is how life unfolds and memories are made a day at a time, a month at a time. This concludes my ode to August and yay! finally a blog for this month and the record still stands :)

What's with the open mouths??

A sorry state

Is there a way to know what you really want to do? Not just feel something in a fuzzy way in your head, but know something right into your bones and muscles so that everything you do mirrors what you really want.

Tragedies often bring this helpless feeling where you want to do something but you have no clue how or what. I sat miles away from home and read how my home state was ravaged by the flash rains with no administrative preparedness to handle any conceivable natural tragedy. I sat miles away from home and read when a freak accident wrecked a friend’s life- you get electrocuted in a Delhi shopping area because no one cares about having unsafe electric wirings conducting electricity all the way to your parked car.

I don’t want to write any further, because the sad truth is all my current agitation is futile..

Movie review-'Before..' trilogy

This will have to be the kind of movie that could possibly lie somewhere in my imagination. Or maybe this is the kind of movie that I would have loved to imagine by myself. In either case it is but understandable that I absolutely love it.

I am talking about Linklater, Delpy and Hawke in the ‘Before’ trilogy- Before Sunrise, Before Sunset & Before Midnight. I finished watching the latest installment yesterday and thought of writing briefly about them. The movies are all about conversations that mirror life, conversations between two people in different contexts, different cities and different times of their life. The tone of the conversation changes as life takes them through different phases and the viewer can picture their life together through their 'long conversations'.. Each of the three movies focus on a different phase of life.

In the lives we live, we talk all the time with everyone around but we share the magical ease of talking or even silence with only a few people. However the magic is not just about two people, it is also about the place and the movie captures it beautifully in the picturesque backdrop of Europe. Since it is a movie it plays out in Vienna, Paris & Greece but for the lowly people not in the movie business alternative arrangements often surface out magically in our backyard all in course of a good conversation!

I guess for me the whole premise of loving the movie is the fact that I know the joy of such conversations. If I  try to draw a physical parallel for a good conversation I'd say it is like exchanging a volley over tennis net without keeping score. You run, you stretch, you challenge-play the offensive, you collaborate-play the easy shots. You just keep the flow going and the ball from hitting the ground. Now I don’t play tennis so this analogy may be technically incorrect but I watched a game few days back and I felt that this mental image was closest to what i wanted to say. A good conversation is like a game- it’s about timing, pace, humor, challenge and having fun. The two characters in the movie know how to play this game of verbal exchanges and it’s a delight to watch.

The movie is also a delectable character study, in the course of their conversations you feel as if you know them in flesh and blood. You understand how each of them thinks and how differently from the other. They bring different perspective to the same conversation, to the same situation. They bring with them their different upbringings, their different cultures and you can sense it clearly. I think the worst conversations for me are the ones where someone tries to sound like you. They might have the best intent but the moment they lose their original selves, it’s a tedious exchange- it’s no fun to listen to you. I can at least say that for myself-(I can bore myself to death, heaven save the listeners).

I purposefully didn't talk about the plot, I think it is the execution that really matters here. Meeting the love of your life in a train journey in Europe is straight from some romanticist's playbook and I would have been the first person to dismiss it, but here I am raving about the movie. A good reason to watch it I say!

The day called Birthday

We need celebrations in life to break the monotony of living, and we reserve special celebrations for the day when this chain of living started- the birthday celebration
Each year we have a story of how we celebrated this day last year and over the years this one day can serve as a good pointer of life. Some birthdays are just stellar, some not so great but still there is always a silver lining, some loved one manages to salvage the day for you :)

I can try to describe the birthday celebrations with the help of some alliteration I remember from early childhood-
Cut, Cute, Cake
Do, Disco, Dance
Sing, Sweet, Song
Live, Long, Life
This is how we signed the birthday cards with generous wishes for the benefactor distributing birthday sweets in class. The sweets were ‘Ravalgon’ one year then moved to ‘Dhishum toffee’, ‘Cofffee Bite’, ‘Alpenliebe’ and I guess by the time I reached college, kids in schools had graduated to ‘Centre Shock’- who wants the boring sweetness after all for the birthday. I am not the most updated person but I am sure the kids generation today must have found a way cooler way to celebrate birthdays than our dinosaur generation who flaunted a super frilly frock with matching hair bands on this day and gifts that parents chose for us!

So we have covered all things sweet so far and we can now move forward to the tradition of giving gifts and how it gets complicated with every passing year. All humans are not born equal, some are better gift givers and some are hopeless at this skill. Gifts are difficult because it entails making a judgement both at the givers and the receivers end. How big? How small? Does it? Does it not?
All these questions somehow go into formula to calculate the ‘special quotient’, you have no control over the variables, no one knows the exact formula but each one of us imperfectly run these calculations. However all I care is I manage to smile and get a smile in return..

Birthdays in the Facebook generations have advanced in some more ways. Somehow now the entire world knows that it is your special day. 'Rosetta stone' & 'Starbucks' wants you to send a birthday gift to your friend. Google will celebrate your birthday with a special doodle and on clicking the dooddle your own profile on Google+ will open. A bunch of emails from some other services will also be there to greet you in your mailbox. Welcome to the party unwanted attention!

But most importantly, birthdays are the day to stop and appreciate the people you have in your life who try to make the day special for you in their own way.We need a day when friends should make a call and wish you if they want to stay in your good books.We sure need a day to feel loved and appreciated!

This post is dedicated to bhai and bainu and thank you for the special musical performance!

The psyche of a goodbye..

First Act:

Some nights are cold for everyone and some nights are cold just for you..

Sometimes the reason is simple, it’s the blanket or the heating in the apartment to blame and you know you can fix it the next day. Sometimes you are left cold and awake all by yourself because you have traded away the known comfort of your life ‘here’ for the unknown adventure of a new life ‘there’.  It’s the fear of losing the comfortable blanket of friends, family, festivities and food behind that makes you break into a cold sweat. Fortunately the pragmatic mind can explain the cold shiver and point out that it is simply because you have packed and shipped away your warm blanket.

Second Act:

The cold night wakes into a slightly numb morning at the sound of the anxious alarm by the bedside. In its numbness the following lines ring true
 

“There is a line from Verlaine I’ll never now recall..

There is a street nearby from which my foot steps are barred..

There is a mirror that has looked its last on my face..

There is a door I have closed for the final time..

Among the books in my library (I can see them now- Managerial Economics, Marketing principles-Kotler)

There are some I will never open again..” -Jorge Luis Borges

Third Act:

With a gentle lurch the plane wheels begin to glide on the runway. The pilot maneuvers a gentle turn towards the blinking lights of the runway and the plane passes by the signal man in his fluorescent vest. The flight attendants repeat the usual safety instructions. To an outside eye, it is the perfect slow lingering frame with the pacing hum of the engine slowly building up; the prelude before the bellowing engine hits full throttle and the flat expanse of the ground begins to race by. Then in one pregnant moment the wheels lose contact with the tarmac, fold back in and the plane becomes air bound. I believe this is one moment that defines ‘losing touch’ and ‘leaving behind’ physically. From this vantage point my mind was looking inwardly at all the ‘leaving behinds’-the glances, the words and the warmth of the last hug. This recollection was vividly overpowering and I knew not when it lulled me back into a peaceful sleep..

Fourth Act:

I am in a new place, among new people but I am not alone. An old familiar face from a time I thought I had left behind surfaced back again. So I am sitting in my new apartment, looking at the rain fall against the windows sipping my cup of green tea and hoping that life may keep taking me to places as long as it gives me a chance to reconnect with people I once left behind..

My Precious!

I am not yet a big fan of the Lord of the Rings, but this exclamation rolls off my tongue almost too easily!

And this post is about the Precious 2 years in the MBA program, coincidentally the person who interviewed me for admission was a guy named Brian Precious and doesn't the dew drop on the leaf look Precious?
(In my head it all started with spotting the dew drops and the rest followed..)

I keep asking myself and the people around me about the significance of the last two years. It is a lot of change to leave behind the life you know and learn the ways of a new life and culture. Some people try hard to  forget the old ways as they embrace their new life and some people just try to superimpose the old ways in the new setup. Everyone tries to find a hold in their own way, consciously or unconsciously.

If I had to summarize these 2 years without rambling too much I'd say I love the freedom and hate the loneliness of living a life where family and friends are just too far.
You will get all the different types of food, but none of the places will be authentic enough for the natives but nonetheless everyone tries to find a little kitchen that reminds him of home.
I loved the academic system and realized soon that i wasn't the best at all the time management and rubric based grading. I took to the rest of the system fairly easily and it felt comfortable.
This country has a system and things get done in a certain way, so you better follow that one way, because there is no other way!

That's the story of the precious two years of an outsider. Its just like a dew drop trying to find a little place under the sun.

A week of Music

Music followed me or conversely I followed music but in the end all I can say is that it was a week full of music.
Perhaps this week was a saving grace for the month of April, for I had waited long enough for something to come along that I could blog about. I am writing this blog in the midst of a loud Mandarin conversation in my apartment, and even with my most conscientious effort to continue with my writing, I cannot string together a proper sentence-so much for the optimism to find music in a loud Chinese conversation.
Ahh..the sweet sound of silence, music to my ears!

The week started with a trip to Memphis, the city which traces its musical roots in a combination of country, blues, jazz, and rock and roll. The Memphis airport flaunts this musical history, but I was unaffected. I was more occupied to find the booth of the yellow checkered taxi which would take me to my hotel. It was at the hotel lobby waiting for the escalator that I clearly heard the strains of a familiar song from the good old days of rock and roll. I am cursing myself for not remembering the songs, but every-time I took the escalator I would smile inwardly at the song playing.
Monday evening, when I was finally done with my long interview process, my friend took me out to explore the city. From this point on-wards, I can assure that I have a better recollection of the songs that surfaced through the week! It was 'Purple Rain' and 'All Summer Long' as a live band performed on the Beale Street.
Beale Street is a significant location in the city's history, as well as in the history of the blues. It runs from the Mississippi River to East Street, a distance of approximately 2.9 km. and is lined with blues clubs and restaurants. During the first weekend of May (sometimes including late April), the Beale Street Music Festival brings major music acts from a variety of musical genres, the festival is the kickoff event of a month of festivities citywide known as Memphis in May.(source Wikipedia)

It was a street where all days of the week came to experience a Sunday and people just played along holidaying, singing, dancing eating and drinking with no cares for tomorrow! But the years rang loud and clear in the voice of this old shriveled man who was performing for the crowd. The street had seen it all, his act over the years, people swaying in the rises and ebbs of his voice, cheering as if in a spell when nothing else matters but music..

Driving back along the Nashville highway, my friend played her CD of country music and we were humming along Johnny Cash as he 'Walked the line',  talked of a 'Boy named Sue', felt the 'Hurt' of 'Folsom prison blues'. The next best thing after music will have to be food, and even mediocre Indian food in a foreign land with Jagjit Singh playing can be a treat. The day ended in the strains of her collection of Hindi songs and a bottle of wine. Good times!

Next day I flew back to Chicago, and music found me again or i found it -a bright blue guitar at the train station. Two guys headed to New Orleans started singing South American songs(Spanish/Portuguese, i wouldn't know), the music was sure making people tap their feet and occasionally break into impromptu dance faces! The next moment an Amish traveler joined the ranks of the travelling vagabonds and while his wife sheepishly smiled at him, he sang 'Joy to the world, the Lord is come'.
Well the train did come, and it was called 'City of New Orleans', so no surprise if they play the song 'City of New Orleans' as passengers board the train.

All these musical adventures span Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. Wednesday night S calls up to ask if i would like to go for Bob Dylan concert the next day. Hell yes! I bought the tickets for Bob Dylan concert on Wednesday and Thursday was again musical with Mr. D performing.
The crowd had a generous mix of 40 year old, undergrads and we-the middle ground. S clearly shares no love for the middle ground, always ready to jump boat onto the younger side-but only if he could!
A new band named Dawes opened the show for Dylan, it was a decent band- 'A little bit of everything'

Then the legend took to the stage, and the next two hours it was him performing live!
He is undoubtedly the most influential person in the musical scene. There is so much already written about him, his life, his musical style that I have no fresh insights to offer. Sitting in the auditorium hearing him perform, it felt like a story telling session where some wise old man, who has seen life up close and personal (The more I die the more I live) was just talking about it in beautiful verses, deep voice and occasionally taking the help of the mouth organ that he picked up sometime in his youth.
'Tangled in blue', 'All along the watchtower', 'What good am I', 'Summer days' ..

On a personal note, the week ended with the sweet sound of success, and now I will have to wait and watch where this music takes me from here..

Snow Conversations

And the snowy conversations continue unto spring.
Take a seat, we are not done yet..
I can see what you are doing there..
Within all the soft, white, beauty of today
There is the cold, frozen silence for tomorrow...
But for all my wisdom,
I still sit down and listen, for the snow knows how to converse.
I still sit down and listen, for the snow knows how to soothe.
I sit down and listen to the snowy story...

And the silence of the snow continues unto spring..
Look afar, we are not done yet..
I can see what you are doing there..
Within the vast expanse of the frozen silence today
There is a promise of spring for tomorrow..
But for all my wisdom,
I still stand in disbelief, for the snow knows how to conceal..
I still stand in disbelief, for the snow knows how to subdue..
I stand and gaze at the snowy spectacle..

photo credit: roadstar

Miracles

"No, not a miracle in days.."
A groundhog just walked out and predicted an early spring
A leprechaun just turned the Chicago river Green.
"Is this the best you've got
Where can I find a better soothsayer?"
I bet there is one just around the corner
"Ha.. I guess I'll buy that.."

"No, not an answer in days.."
Do you remember why you came this far?
Do you know how far you still want to go?
"Is this the best you can do-pose more questions
Where can I find the answers?"
I bet everyone else is also still searching
"Is this the best you've got
Where can I find a better soothsayer?"
I bet there is one just around the corner

"I am scared I'll just run into myself when I turn around the corner! 
The eternal optimists that we  are, we'll always have a version of us watching out for us just around the corner, telling us: 
This too Shall Pass..

After-all when have non-believers ever seen miracles?"

Photo Credit: Ananz

Taj-Stealing glances!

Everytime I will look at these pictures I will be reminded of how Taj trumped over college friendship! The plan was to meet the photographer before I left for States and instead she went to Agra. 

Moving beyond petty college fights.. and in the spirit of V-day..

Everytime I will look at these pictures, I will appreciate how looking from the sidelines or shadows adds a sense of mystery. And sometimes this mystery is more beautiful!

This one is for all the people you have admired from the sidelines secretly..  stole glances when no one was watching and smiling went about life!

Photo credits: sr

Caught in action..ooops

I wasn't kissing her, I was whispering in her mouth. 

Photo credit:sr

A song & Three pictures & snow

I opened my window to a snowy morning.. and I don't know how I started singing this song 'lakdi ki kathi..kathi ka ghoda.. stuck somewhere in the snow...'

I still think of the snow covered fruit orchards with bright colored birds hopping around and kids running down the terraced hill slope to mark their territory with footprints on the virgin snow. And supposedly these three pictures say:

 'sabzi mandi main barf padi thi.. bacho ko lag gayi thandi..'.  

I only changed the ghoda to bacha.. since I had no picture of one.

I am still smiling inwardly at the imagery of the song while sipping my mug of coffee by the window gazing at the snow outside and thinking of the blissful time :)

Sunrise..

Sunrise.. Sunrise

How do you wake up the sleepy hills?

I bring them a warm golden halo with a perfect fit!

Sunrise.. Sunrise

How do you wake up the lazy leaves?

I bring them the dewy diadems with the perfect glow!

Sunrise.. Sunrise

How did you wake up the super lazy me today?

Ahh.. that only happens with a stroke of luck!

Missing Yellow!

A bunch of fiery red geraniums..
A bowl of 'fiery' green chilies..
A palate of blue sky against the lofty hillls..
All I am missing is a little yellow!

I guess the above lines need a little improvisation. Since I am in Naini and I can't shake off the memories of my schooling days here, I decide to re-compose the above stanzas using the exact names of the colors that I learnt in my art lessons

A bunch of vermilion(not crimson) red geraniums..
A bowl of verdian green chilies shining in the sun..
A palate of cobalt blue sky
All I wanted is a chrome yellow!

Back in school, I hated the snobbery of having all these names for colors, and I never knew when I grew into the snob who liked to showoff by using these specific names for them. How pretentious!

So actually its not the 'yellow' that I am missing but the humility.
The Indian society is blessed with just too many people who think they know too much. They have an auto reflex to take to the pedestal and begin preaching any moment. The preachings encompass everything, right from your personal life, professional choices and the mass favorite social diktat.
Everyone has strong views on what is best for you regardless of what you might think. These people can be found everywhere, they are there on the television  newspapers, going viral on social media and exactly where there is a little sun by the turn of the road waiting for you to come by.
A clash of ideas and choices is obvious since everyone has a different way of thinking, different backgrounds, and different life experiences. However sometimes it gets a little difficult to be all rational and ignore the rants and stand tall like the hills against the sun and the rain..
These are the times when you just have 'to peace out!'

I had to wait for the spring, but I did find my dash of yellow!