But Still :( :) :D ;), etc.

1.I can live alone famously, without the fear of ghosts, spirits, neighbours, badgering maid-internet guy-watchmen.

But still there are days, when you just wake up on the wrong side, ending up sleeping also on one, dissatisfied with some real averageness of the day. Thank God for all the funny, intelligent and slapstick sitcoms that America has made. They can keep you company well.

2.While I end up having a decent time on weekends with Zoo and friends, calling friends over, meeting them, or even by yourself watching a film and cooking food, the weekdays are the same ole Forrest-gumping around the city and corporate. Therefore I can’t say this is hell AND high-water.

But still, we live in day-to-day’s and not on weekends. These weekends are thus lone islands, more like oases after drudging along for days, or what seem like days in sandy deserts of Mumbai.

Life is like a damn pie here. Contingent upon good, bad, ugly rains, crowded, timely and delayed trains and BEST’s, the car ahead of us, the ‘pandals’ for elections and festivals, the rumour or reality of swine flu, a moody boss, a depressive, recovering economic state, a truant, forgetful maid, an irresponsible land-lord, the street dogs who fight with other dogs because they protect and scare you at the same time, the metro construction, a very famous singer’s wishes, availability of running water only at 2 fixed hours of the day, the temples of religion who decide to spread their sermons far and wide and of course your own ghosts.

3.Sometimes, when you try to concentrate, all you can hear is the tip-tap of keyboards, of course apart from the drone of the ac which cackles every now and then and the thrumming of people talking on the phone.

But still, it is far better than the silence of a lonely night, the quiet of an angry friend and a pregnant waiting.

4.I’ve no idea how to go back to writing, after such a long time with a torrent of mixed emotions and thoughts without being extremely disorganized and incoherent.

But still, one must keep going, even if it’s not good enough, just to break the jinx.

5.One of these days, I fell on the platform, while getting off the train, while it screeched to a halt, thinking I’d land vertically, just like some others were doing. Got my bearings soon after and collected myself. Looked back and saw everyone was impervious.

But still, one act of kindness, one hand to reach out to pull you on the train or even one smile to suggest we’re all in the mess together is just much weightier than that cold of people who would just continue to their cushy offices.

6.Every year, going home from wherever you are for Diwali is a very deep-rooted tradition. This year also, despite work, both Zoo and I went home, going about doing Pooja’s in all the possible places, eating rich food and meeting people.

But still it’s not one I would like to tamper much with. I’m deeply pulled by all the bric-a-bracs, deeyas, rangolis, lamps, etc. Besides that sense of ‘missing something’ is way too powerful in me. I don’t mean it in the emotional kind of way, but in a ‘lost opportunity, that time and space- where you weren’t, but could’ve been’ sort of way. Anyhow……


7.I cook a hell lot these days. But the amount I brag about it, one must feel that I'm a humdinger or something but far and away from it. I've to tell here, that if I continue to cook at this rate, I might as well be one hell of an experimental cook.

But still, I’d die a cook who doesn’t know the exact measures for 1 recipe. Just like in life, jack of all trades. I'll be the material mummies don't always like. Salt and pepper are always here and there. In cooking, Zoo for instance, who is a purist, will come away slightly better I think.

Just like conversations can be interrupted a good deal by the use of many fancy-incomprehensible words, so can a food-preparation. I cannot make a dish reak of garlic, cinnamon, asofoetida, bay leaves, basil, all at the same time. The use of all of them leads to bastadization and nullifying each and every taste. The other day I made pulao and the number of times I had to spit the cardamom seeds, cloves and bay leaves is not funny.

8.Reading in the loo has become a big problem because nose keeps leaking all the time. No matter how stiff I kept myself, my nose had this rebellious way to flout.

But still, there are other opportunities presenting themselves, for instance you can read in the train, in the bus, without feeling sorry about the wasted time in commute. I’m happy to know I’m adopting some brilliant adaptive and behavioral coping mechanisms.

Later