Morning glory

in a way, I love my hurried mornings, and whoever says they're horrid, can go rot !

now its hard to imagine a morning and the getting-ready-for-work without -

struggling to wake up -
after the repeated sly looks at the table clock, and squeezing '5 more minutes'.....until you cannot fool yourself any longer, and get up, already knowing that it's once again late !
(this is where you are going over the sequence of all the activities which need to be done before you are finally done)
(this is also where you wish you weren't staying alone, so atleast another hopeful soul or even a faithful pet would have pulled you from the bed)
(this is also the only time you vouch not to fall to the temptations of the xtra '5 more minutes' the next day)

commotion -
and yes, even if you stay alone, there is enough. I shudder to think what happens in a working family !
(this is where there isn't anyone else to throw your work to, or shout at for crossing you, or hoping of a meal set for grabs)
(this is where you are doing zig-zag in your mind, yes, that' where the commotion is)

juggling multiple activities -
put the iron on, make the bed, in between, go put some music (before thinking multiple times if you can spare the precious seconds with the CD player), hit the bath, and suppress the desire to keep standing in the shower forever, make breakfast (after having struggled with the decision of what to eat - cereal, bananas, toast? Heck.....Just some milk please)......

choosing many dresses and promptly discarding them
in the total time crash scenarios, hunting for the wrinkle free wears
(this is where at times you hope the virtual roomie would mix-match some clothes for you)
(this is also where you wish for the nth time you could wear the easy jeans to office)

last minute mess ups/ goof ups/ worst case : absolute f*** ups -
oops, spilt it on my white shirt/ oh no, a perfume blot, now whatever next can I find in the last 2 minutes
(this is where time stands still, you curse your carelessness, and finally rush back to the cupboard to dig 'whatever' out)
(this is also where you look at your wrist watch like a zillion times over)
(this is also where you realize the 'eternal' time gap between 8:10 and 8:13)
(this is where you wish all other clocks were behind yours)
(this is where you scream - STOP thinking about the time for your own sake, and get that shirt on girl)

finally the lights switched off, a fleeting glance in the corridor mirror just as you rush out, fumble the keys, lock the door, check the lock, and turn around, and walk ahead !

the morning mess has been dealt with. Out walks the same 'calm' me each day. Everything else has been locked behind the door ! It's time to get some sunshine now !

ps - now, for all those who think this indicates an unorganised person............well I'd like to say, take life a bit easy, and get to some tasks on the spur, and sit back later, and amuse yourself with the delightful and ingenious way you get by the morning ! and leave the planning to other serious tasks ;

let each new morning be a new day in the earnest, and not a sequential simulated chain reaction !

i really want to change the way this page looks. off late it's appearing to me as if a lot of unnecessary color have been sprayed here and there.

i just want a blank white page.

but on this damn comp i am on, it'd take ages to even do that change, so this goes in the TBD lists !

Short lessons on change

read this somewhere -

Chapter 1.
I walk down a street and there's a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall
in. It takes forever to get out. It's my fault.

Chapter 2.
I walk down the same street. I fall in the hole again. It still takes
a long time to get out. It's not my fault.

Chapter 3.
I walk down the same street. I fall in the hole again. It's becoming
a habit. It is my fault. I get out immediately.

Chapter 4.
I walk down the same street and see the deep hole in the sidewalk. I
walk around it.

Chapter 5.
I walk down a different street.

i would say these 3 would hold up all that sums up each person's life

there are things in life one does /

other things one really wants to do, but doesn't get to do /

and still other things one doesn't want to do, but does.

Now even a person who's met me 2-3 times, may comment on my having gained/lost weight (in my case its always lost though)
or people may say 'oh u look familiar...have we met before'
or even a stranger couldd take a look and tell me 'oh, u got dark circles under your eyes girl, not sleeping, ill??'
or anyone at all cud tell me 'your clothes are nice', or 'gawd, whatever are u wearing'
or 'new hairstyle, ahaaa'
or, office pals would say, 'your working late, I notice'
and boss would say, 'u can still to do this extra bit, since I notice you’re almost done with......'
always, the friends notice 'I see , whyever the lousy mood'
or neighbor auntie says 'you've been on vacation I guess'
or even the unattached grocery chap says, 'I see you're not buying chips today'

and amidst all that people notice, in a few snaps that you have sent to a bunch of chums, and got the varied good/bad/ugly replies ; there's one reply that says -

I notice that u r not wearing your earrings in the snaps ,why ??

and I am left zapped.
at how little things in life, seemingly unimportant, open our eyes to see that there is always, one person, at any given time, any place, any situation, who always notices the one apparently insignificant thing that actually means a lot to you.

now only such a person could notice that I always wear only these said earrings , since forever. a meaningless note for anyone else but the one who knows. and it’s a question of as much concern as would be 'u don't look yourself today, hmmm et all........'

and this is what happened with me today. and I -
felt for a while disbelief that anyone could have noticed such a minority at all
felt I am yet eons behind when I feel 'oh, I know this, happens, all the time, u know.......'

for few things happen quite rare. and always in the unexpected rubble.
only this rubble fills the heart.

thank you dear friend, you made my day today.

clearing 'yawn-derr'

the bald (i shud say with a shaved head, by choice) guy sitting diagonally across, has just attacked a chocolate, and staring somewhere, but not the comp, so he's also not working, just like me.
lady across, and the lady next to her, are discussing and over-elaborating on the tuna sandwich one had for lunch....i mean this lady almost has the same tuna sandwich each day, how much can one tear it apart...but she can, that too with glad company in another woman.
now the bald guy got up to get drinks for all, suspect he's sleepy, so got a chance to walk around.
another peek, and another 3 ladies are chatting to glory, happily having made a 3-some group.....so they too aren't working.
to the left, another oldie chap is busy checking bbc for the latest football updates (can't make out more from this distance)..
ok the tuna sandwich discussion is suspended, atleast temporarily, as someone has come to speak to talk to the lady who ate the tuna sandwich. not to lose a moment, the other lady has further turned and now talking to another woman.
bald guy is back, with a glass of water for himself. why to carry a tray then? and now he's finally looking at the keyboard, and then the screen, now the keyboard....
the 3 ladies grp has dismissed themseleves, but only in position, they are back at their (neighbouring) desks , and chatting away to glory from there. like 'fort is held', now i can carry on. laughter, cackles.....
now male cackles, and laughter from 3 guys sitting just infront of me.
bald guy has popped a pen in this mouth.
guy sitting next to me just returned, following him is bald guy's gaze. there he just laughed, now turned back at his screen,
clearly not aiming to work.
poor tuna sandwish lady has been led in a technical discussion.
male talk n laughter from one end continues.....

meanwhile, i am feeling a little more awake after these peek-a-boos, so getting back to some technicality.

some clutter, some rubble, backpacks - but mostly me

since the last about 6 years, i have maintained these annual lists of books that i have read (or re-read) and movies that I have watched (or watched again). the usual trend each year has been more inclined towards books (which i cannot do without) than movies (which i enjoy, but can live without). but that's not the thought here.

watched 2 movies this weekend, and today was adding there names in my 2005 list, and got stuck there wondering about the 'purpose' of this 'habit' that i started one day, a few years back, and religiously follow.

and it occurred, how often do we get back to our 'backpacks'.....
1. it could be such book and movie lists/ or
2. piles of books, so called a collection (mostly gathering dust)/ or
3. audio tapes or music cd's bought over many years (a lot of them out of our taste now, sitting in some box or shelf)/ or
4. a dozen or so scrap books including some thoughts, paper cuttings, clips, abstract diagrams and other zig zag/ or
5. a lot of stationery items, half sticky and broken, lying unused, but carried from house to house/ or
6. other apparent rubble incl - dry flowers, leaves, shells, stones, little show pieces, and other junk....

what am i trying to seize here, i wonder? What’s the purpose here?
1. time
2. moments
3. memories
4. a link to the past (when i see this stuff in the future)
5. an insight into my own personality and how i have changed (or perhaps not) over the years

or perhaps, a bit of it all....

for example -
i look at the tapes i had when i was in early school, and there are a couple of songs from backstreet boys, boyzone, spice girls and other such foolishness (as i think of it 'today') also ; some more typical loud music with no real depth ; and othercluttering songs n albums - i cannot get myself to play these today, at all, and yet they sit where do they do, eating the space, and reminding me subtly of days where perhaps i may have been just carefree enough to play any music, without the pre-notions of how deep it'd be, of whether it would touch my soul or not.

i would like to think today, that i have a good 'tasteful' taste in music. but in many ways, it does point to me, of howjudgemental i am on what i'd like to hear, and what is trash for me ; of the difference i have found over the years in music which is soul-stirring, and music i feel is just for the sake of it........and then i'd like to think that i wish i wouldn't say 'my taste has developed'......i wish i'd just see it as 'my tastes havechanged'......for the bygones must have filled some hours all those years back too, with happiness or whatever.
but i can't help being so critical, of self, and its just a wish.

i also look at the vast book collection i have, and which grows exponentially, always.
i remember my senior school days, when all i read was sheer philosophy, theosophy, and other such stuff, a lot of other ruritarian classics, C&H, and for humour - archie comics.
i also remember the teen years of sidney sheldons, jeffrey archer, agathas and holmes, danielle steel and other fiction.
flashback and the nancy drews, hardy boys, famous five, five find outers, and several other mystery(with no mystery, as I think today) series.
and further back the couldn't-grow-up-without enid blyton's, and the desi comics - chacha chouwdhary, pinki, billu, raman and the lot (a few names have escaped my memory completely for now).......
and all of those zillion other booksthat i got to read, and think about, and grew on......
and then the trasition back to my senior school days, and beyond, till now, and growing more, of books that i like to readnow, and of the sidney/danielle which i read today only when my mind cannot comprehend anything else ; of the comicsand blyton's i love to get back to when i find them hidden and staring a while -
and i think its been long, my relationship with books, they all have been so significant in each phase of my life, thru mychildhood to now - they all have occupied hours and hours of my life, have left imprints, thoughts that have stayed, otherswhich inspired, others which made me dream, and hope, and learn, and most importantly - broaded my vision to see beyond the fence.

...and in the same league the zillions newspaper cuttings i have kept, and pasted in the diaries, none of which i have everthrown out , the other scrap books, and articles, and little gifts which friends and schoolmates, or college mates havegiven, of notes, and chits, and other ink blots......

and all of this, i carry from destination to destination, from one door-step to the other when i move houses, and i wonder at the marvel of how the load has increased, -

and when i close my eyes and look for the ’purpose' ; I realise -
that perhaps, this rubble, this clutter, gives me the privilege of some free space in my mind, which otherwise would have been cluttered with the clutter ;
it gives me the gift of recollecting my past at a glance, than to have to rake my brains ;
it gives me the childhood I have preserved in the collections ;
in the years embedded in each such data, each such list ;
in how much I know about my own self through all the years ; which otherwise memory wouldn’t have done justice to –

and then I can see somewhat clearly, the burden & the essence of my being, perhaps, has been lightened in these literal collections than struggling for space in my mind. i have been able to preserve a past in print, than in the vaporising memories.

And then I am glad, of all my backpacks.

a night divide

i have slept early, very early at 8 in the evening. and a 4-5 hours of continous sleep is good enough for me, so i am woken up by the re-charged cells somewhere still night. i take my cell from the bedside table, and unlock it to see the time as 00:55....yes that explains why i am feeling fresh enough even in the middle of the night.

i take a few sips from the glass of water, also on the sidetable. the night light from the living room continues to throw the faint yellow glow, only it appears spooky to me for that moment. i'd rather the darkness than this faint glow scattering yellowish spots in a dark background.

i remove the covers, and feel like changing from the half sweater i am wearing to a t-shirt. maybe i am over estimating my own laziness to expect myself to change. i must atleast lower the heating. the radiator is hidden behind the room door and lowering the heating would mean taking off the door stopper, holding the door so it doesn't bang and resonate in the night hush, turning the knob to reduce the heat, putting the stopper again, and all this on the left side of the bed, while i am cozy(and a bit too warm) on the right side. chuck it.

i am too awake, and wonder if repeating alphabets in the reverse would bore me to sleep again. thirst reaches my throat again, and now i need to get up. this is like the few things in life which always take our full attention no matter how much we'd like to skip them. when i feel thirsty at night, i'd run for some water but for a quake. i get up, take the glass, go to the kitchen, run the cold tap water for a while for the water to be chlorine free, and then greedily drink it. i fill up the glass and get back to the bed. the glass gets back on the side table, and i on the right side, under the covers, in the half sweater. i'd be asleep in a while, even if a little warm, but its fine. i think, without any urge, about things i won't remember in the morning. i also notice i haven't dreamt as yet, and perhaps i will when i sleep again now.

the night has been divided by waking up in the middle. waking up loud and clear, and not drowsy eyed and cracking. i am now lying straight, eyes on the black shadows on the ceiling. a few moments, and i decide to pull down the eye shutters and get some sleep, for its office in the morning, and my alarm will be going sooner than i'd know. i unlock my cell once again, and check the time, its 01:07.

and the last thought i remember is i have been awake just over 10 minutes, by the watch that is, and yet the divide seems larger than it is worthy of, perhaps.

Statutory warnings, eh?

How much do the statutory warning and cautions really help us?

We pay them attention only when we want to - if we desire to, else they're just another word formations on the packs. And the regulations guys think there job is done if the labels are in place. How pathetic is that, who the hell would care unless they'd wish to care? Half the regulations seem fake. When cigarettes, pan masala(was that it?) etc can be sold proudly with these labels, I wonder why they don't sell drugs in similar fashion too - well labeled with similar warnings. Why garb half the stuff, when its all out there. Who gave whom the right to decide which is fatal, how much is fatal - cigarettes yes yes, drugs no no? Is that too radical? Before you think i am dying to get drugs the legal way, nopes, me not on dopes :). I just think we should drop the sham. People who want to take something will take it, no matter the bans, no matter the warnings. They'll find there ways to find it, take it and the rest. Why can't it be just left on the individual to decide? But thats too big a question i guess, what would happen in a lawless land, they'd argue....

A Silent conversation

a memory from the time lost just flashed. it was one of the best outings i had with a friend of mine during college days.me and my friend milann went out at around 7 in the evening for a quick eat out at pizza hut at mg road. we were both lost in-our-own-world mood that day. took a bus to mg, went to pizza hut, 1st floor, and had an evening which was gr8 for us, wierd for the others staring at us though...coz there was no conversation b/w us the entire evening. after deciding what to eat, there was total silence. lost in our thoughts. but at peace. as if talking to each other, but no need to verbalise any thought. there were no issues to discuss, no questions to ask, no gossip to report, nothing to force out from the system, no necessity of talking and indulging in a verbal speech when all one wants to do is, sit back and relax, no speech, but yeah,
not alone.....somewhere in b/w i realised the waiters were wondering if we are two wierdos, maybe we looked that day, but who the hell cared.....they can't throw you out for being silent, too silent. but it was one of the days that remains embedded in the good-memories sector in my head. in many ways, one of the most peaceful conversations i ever had over a meal.

sometimes, silent conversations are a delight, away from the chaotic verbal world.

sometimes i feel failed actions are like failed acts on a stage.

you think and think again, on what is the best way, how to do, all those plans, and all those decisions. you feel you've thought well, your estimations are correct, and you are all prepared. your metrics are accurate, your will is intact, your hopes are high, and you work like a dog.

and then somehow you find that when the curtains have been raised, and the act has really begun, you find yourself lost - again. alone. confused. aimless.
standing in front of the audience , your estimations, your ends staring at you, waiting for you to get to the end of the act to meet the applause.

and then the questions arise - if you overestimated yourself, you thought you would not only perform, but out-perform, and here, you stand and stare numb. its wierd where the most statistical estimations crumble without a trace of work put in. how does the audience know what went into the preparations, or how much you labored, how much you worked, they just sit and stare, for them only the performance matters, not the sweat lost. and you stand, shamefaced, unable to deliver a line. it seems meaningless then, like you are in a spin, a web, a confusion so engulfing, that you question your own self, for there is none other to question.

and all you do is stare, and wonder, how???

GET THIS DONE !!

when i came to the uk, had decided to make a nice scrap book kinda for the places i visit here, people i meet, things that strike. it was to be an all-in-one album kinds (something non-electronic for a change).
i bought a nice book, and then gave myself an excuse for not having some tape/glue to stick the cut-outs, snaps et all. now after about 4 months of this decision, and the book gathering dust, i finally bought a tape 2 weeks back. now everythings
in place, except the final kick of motivation that i apparently need to finally get this thing done. wonder after office, where time goes, the same tv-movies-books-music-cook stuff.
thought if id' write it down, perhaps it'll be done faster than it
otherwise ever would. (the lazy me would stare me in the face)t

thats what this is .......a reminder to GET THIS DONE, the alarm's died long back, its time i get this done.....sigh !!

birthdays are fun :)

no matter how you've been, and how you are going to be the next day, i finally have to agree that birthdays are fun days, no matter what.
i was wondering how it'd be like in a different country and office and all. back at home, usually get a cake or some eats, and have fun with my office team, and later with my pals. but what a surprise, got these real beautiful flowers from the team here, and everybody gave cards, and no matter how old you get, the excitement and happiness gets to you.not that i've turned very old today, still young by many comparisons.......its my 23rd birthday !!
and for a day, whatever worries/negativities/turmoils that otherwise hit the head can stay away !!and i can remain happy, pampered and loved.
thanks to all my friends, my family, and everybody who make it so warm n special.

about what i'll do once am outta office, dunno, so thats gonna be the report for tomorrow !!

one of the easy days

at times, even though rare, when there is no/minimum work at office, or other dependencies make me sit like a dull dumbo on my chair, i wonder whats the limit of pretending to work? i can't be net browsing all the while, else questions would arise for sure. nor can i keep my head on the table and doze off (i'd luv too, if it were ok!!). so i just find myself sitting here, staring at this godamned screen, my eyes getting weaker for no good reason, my fingers steadily typing
what-so-evers-in-ma-head, and looking all important, hard working, dedicated, serious and sincere person, doing my job; when what i am actually doing is 'pretending' all of it......not that this is the daily story. but yeah, once in a lucky while works real less, and i am in the no-pressure zone....so there....who's to blame?if only there were some 'legal' ways of passing time when one is free in office, and not having to do time pass on the sly, and keep looking so important (and a hypocrite)......if you ae wondering where the 'guilt' has disappeared, then let me tell you it doesn't surface coz' usually there's always more work, more pressure, too much effort, and less reward scenario, so i take it as ma right to have days with less work...even if on the sly.

and u got it right..........todays one of the easy-sleazy days !!
yawn....where's ma pillow ?

loopy loop

read something interesting in a book, this is a question which goes in a loop;

if a barber shaves all men who do not shave themselves, who shaves the barber?
.
.
.
.
.
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if u say 'he shaves himself', then u'r caught,
as

'the barber shaves only those men who do not shave themseleves'
(so if he shaved himself, he's not one of those men who do not shave themselves)
.
.
.
.

if you're getting lost, repeat the lines to digest the web !!
.
.
.
.
next guess - 'he doesn't shave himself, so somebody else shaves him'
.
.
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you think you caught it, but u'r caught again;

he shaves ALL men who do not shave themselves
(and those who shave themselves, must have shaved), so nobody is left to shave the poor barber, resultant ;
.
.
.
.
question remains - Who shaves the barber??

Reality bites

we always want to know the truth, atleast most of the times, yet how many times are we capable to taking it?
better still, how many times are we really asking for it?
and when we really 'believe' we want to dig the truth, its usually hinting at something that would cut thru the skin.
(because we blah n blab the easy goodie stuff over n again)

1. how much of honesty is good enuff --
2. how much of truth can we take without falling off --
3. what would be our EQ once i really know all truths --
4. would anyone be hurt by our honesty --
5. then again, can i take the guilt of being dishonest --

most imp, for we are all so self centered
(i dont believe in the concept of selfishness, thats for another blog)

6. whats the price we may have to pay for being brutally honest --

the truth is that more often than not - Reality bites (not to mention that it sucks !!)

on my latest reads

started this book 'coincidence' which isn't too appealing. the idea is nice, but i don't like the way its written. and good literature must be a good read as well (although a good read may not be good literature).
thinking of swiching to another book on either cleopatra or alexander the great.

a recent read which i likes was - sir paul mccartneys poems n lyrics - from 1965 to 1999.few of the poems are with john lennon, few are the lyrics from there music, but few poems are the never before published ones, and they really are nice. the ones for his wife linda are also quite nice.and reading some lyrics again was also quite nice. (seems like there isn't any other word in my mind right now other than 'quite nice')so this is the latest bestest piece of 'literature' i read.

there were 2 other fictions for time pass and a tired mind -
the ranch - danielle steel. though if u read one of her books, its like u'v read them all. who cares though !!
still water - murder-who did it-wrong person accused-happy ending and the same shit, but written well. blended with the behavior of orcas, whales and all, thats the interesting part to read !!

bored n sleepy

an extremely boring and sleepy day !!had less work, so majorly bored. a lot of work keeps me busy, even if i would then crib about being tired and all.but this in a way is worse. or probably just so, coz am here in uk. noone really to talk to when i am free, no music to listen to while working, its not allowed here, no mpegs to watch, not allowed here....what a drag !!only thought now after the day is what to cook for my dinner, aaloo-matar and rice probably, with curd. never did this
much cooking as before. even started missing the caterer back at office in india. even though couldn't help cribbing about them while i was there. but atleast could get ready-made-indian lunch. all the things we miss when we don't get them, the usual story of life !!not that i see myself turning a saint and not cribbing about the food in office once am back. i see myself appreciating it all
for a few months, and then sliding in the same routine, well, am human, what to do.just killing the last half hour before i can get outta this office.

Leaf floating on the waters

If life were a river, and i were wading through it, then my present state of mind makes me feel like i am just wading, no strokes from my end. I just seem to be floating in the waters, not fighting the currents, or taking any course. I just seem to be going where the wind directed waters are going. A sense of direction and purpose is missing for now, and i give myself hopes that its just a passing phase, and i shall find myself swimming with gut again. But deep down, not feeling very positive about this, not getting good vibes.

The waters came up from the mountains last year, and i joined someway along. i thought i'd go far from here, and beyond and end in an ocean somewhere and that would be the end. But these waters seem to be dropping me here, after having carried me for this long, and i am getting this feeling its all going to begin again. I will be left here, and more waters would come again from the mountains, and carry me again for a while, till when, i dunno.....

its all happening again, maybe it was designed to be that way, only i can't figure out what i should do. should i leave the banks and go home if they leave me? or should i wait for new waters?

is life 'living' the certainities/ or is it living 'life' in the uncertainities??

10 different things about uk

10 different things about uk - cities

1. intersting names for all shops
2. hidden pets n hidden neighbours
3. a good loo with toilet paper everywhere
4. wood - for most of the things in the house/ also for the house panelling itself
5. meat eating pigeons
6. politeness and basic manners
7. sealed houses
8. babies in prams, and never in the arms
9. cigarette butts everywhere, broken beer bottles on the road each morning
10. tattoos and piercing