IPL- It's Pure Lure.

Long time.

I have started a new regime these days (read: the last 3 days). I do some wall practice for tennis (yes, the long lost friend, about whom I used to write so fondly). It's like playing with myself :). No no, don't get me wrong. It's like returning your own shots. But the hope of a cloudy afternoon always outSHINES the will to get up early and hit the court. However, today, as I saw the day turn silver(from clouds) from yellow, my heart leapt with joy. The line between shade and sunshine on the court blurs too subsequently. And then another leaping in joy.

When people say 'it's all in the head', it all falls in place. The trick in tennis, I've found out :d, is to slow-motion the ball when it's landing back, after the bounce, see the last of it's revolutions before you hit it with all your might, straight from the centre of the racket. Every ball, every time, with might.

Then a little run on the treadmill, some crunches and squats follow. And then some thigh pain, and fatigue follow. I vacillate between sport and fitness and fitness and sport. I have moved on from non-belief in gym. As one looks at himself slogging it out on the treadmill, the feeling of being fit is half the battle of fitness won.

Later in the day, I watch some action in IPL. The other day, I saw one of the most nail-biting, cliff-hanging match between Rajasthan Royals and Kolkata Knight Riders. These matches are bigger than loyalties. While I saw Shahrukh Khan pray and Shilpa Shetty rejoice, I felt galvanized. That's the stickiness about T-20, it's pace, it's assortment and glamour.

And today, when my favourite Chennai gets to draw with Kolkata (a fairly easy game, in favour of Chennai), I feel a little 'sinking'.

Things change all the time. In the wedding season, I no longer like to put mehendi (henna) in my hands. There was a time in my childhood when I used to crave such things. I would wear many bangles, put mum's lipstick like a shabby girl without taste, wear 'chunnis' for saris all the time (just the way I do now), make a wig and hang it around my neck and keep jerking my head in that sexy way heroines do in films. No more. I think, madnesses of childhood just peter out like this in adulthood.

But some things never change. Mums never become indifferent to us, however much they say- 'I've stopped to care about you children'. She will still come and see if we are sleeping even if we have had a battle with words just moments back. And the taste of Amul butter never changes. The assurance of the sweet voice never changes. The sting of the pernicious and scheming mosquito's bite never changes. And the promise of the eastern sun and the warmth of the western sun never change too.

So Long.

ordinary but super

holidays slip out of my hand like a chocolate chip from a cookie falls into one of those sofa cleaves and edges along while I try to pluck it with my index and thumb. feeling like a mother missing the 9 months old foetus, to the book i just finished reading. have lots of fun in telling half the details to Debo and witholding the other half, that unhinges him completely. have many a bee in my bonnet. Sometimes its working out. Staying at home and squandering the holidays away evokes crazy, gory images in my mind. I see funny things happen to myself and it's not pretty. sometimes it's someting else. But they are all too many and too small. Sometimes it's taking a back-packing trip somewhere. I open many a link to see some nice vegetarian recipes to fix something in the kitchen. But the moment passes, I bookmark those links and I never go back to that. Later I open many a link for architecture types and forms. Bookmark those and then never go back to them. Sometimes, I have many pages(Tabs * Windows)open on my computer that are never visited again. In the meantime, Zoo goes to Amreeka and Debo takes exams. I think about Minkie at times and the time-zones and the one-way-ness upset me then. I want to pole vault time and space then. Anyhow, these are momentary things and pass me by in another instant.

Later

cocktail

now that i have shifted my base from ahmedabad for good, there were some things that needed winding up. For eg. I spoke to Vodafone executives to solve my post-paid problem. D'abbord, cest moi, que presente les problemes grandes. Deuxiemement, les executives sont tres prepare, comme, ils soint tres exaspere pas mes problemes, finalement, they breathed a sigh or relief, continue a me demander si ils peuvent faire quelque chose pour moi, in a long and boring drone of 'i hope mam, the information we provided you helped us, if there is anything we can do for you, please let us know.'. And while they neared the end of this refrain, je pensais d'une nouvelle probleme, et ils repetaient la meme message.

Je crois, mes probleme restent comme ca. Mais, au'jourdhi jai recontre plus qu'une fois, un exposure of service. Et ce sont les educateurs qui nous servent le meilleure. Ils sont dans la profession, plus noble.

Anyhow, service est tres important dans la travaux de ordinateur aussi. La diskette et chargeur ne travaille plus. Pourtant, je suis sure, les gens qui me servent le meilleure, n'ont pas etudie 'service marketing' dans le college.

Anyhow, from the top, everything else looks like a small speck. Tall buildings that were once visible, the view is completely obliterated by many more buildings in the middle. While I saw the scorching sun turn into a less bold colour of orange but a more defined round ball, one huge leaf from the coconut tree fell, from the first tumlt of arriving monsoon. And listening to reminiscent songs, I was taken two years back to another chapter of college. Anyhow, that's another story.

So while shoes are being thrown on important political people, earthquakes ravage pretty landscapes, Taliban rears it's head, mass protests take place in Maldova, India draws an almost-won match, the heat of elections becomes thicker and new sensational stories unfold everyday, on my turf, closer home while mummy and I fight, learning is becoming a little difficult in the kitchen. A few failed attempts at cooking cut me to size. Hope things are better in a few days. We'll get to feel better and eat better.

Later

home updates

mummy looks at manufacturing dates for medicines and not expiry dates. What's the point of expiry dates then. She has many such fetishes. But she works bally hard at home. papa comes home muttering some numbers for lunch at home, some filter cloth configurations. He comes home really tired in the evening. He wants to take a trip somewhere in may. Debo has been really sick for the past few days. He is being fed some nutritious food.Bhe doesn't have all of it. Today he sat all day watching football or cricket on espn. Sometimes he fights with me. But more often than that, he just cold-shoulders me. I think he just acts really insouciant but has a warm heart. Zoo works and comes back home to cook food. She works and comes back to skip dinner. And sometimes, she just has food outside. She takes lots of time to cook but takes less than 5 to eat. (One of the big paradoxes). But she will be joined by me in June.

Meanwhile, I'm thinking whom to vote for, these elections. I'm not very certain but i'm learning. I dont know how well left, nda, upa or mayawati will fare. But i wait for some reforms. I'm not liking the inaction too much.

Meanwhile also, mummy scolds me for not working. Therefore, I'm getting into the mood for working. Once i'm started, there will be no stopping my dear. There are myriad things that need to be done. I shall not squander the precious vacation doing nothing. I shall travel to many a place. And cook many a meal. And dance many a dance. And speak many a tongue.

Later

and life comes a full circle!

Exactly two years back, I was enrolled in a place called MICA. A post-graduate programme with a difference, they say. I don't know how different it is, but I do know it's scaled me completely in two years. I miss soo many things about that eco-system. In a way, MICA has spoilt me without any conscience. And this is in terms of more physical and tangible things. For eg. when I set foot at home, I was met with load-shedding. This totally took my goat. Later, the many plumbing disasters that need attention, took me back to MICA. Then there were the lush and beautifully manicured lawns. The laundry, the internet connection, the 'lan' culture, the fight for more and more shared drive, the complete meals, with both butter-milk and curd. The oh-so close 'chhota' and tt canteens, the credit, and the list goes on.

But there other intangible things also. There is the self-occupation that MICA affords. There you were allowed to stay unnoticed, do anything just by yourself, listen to any kind of music at any volume. At home, that is inconceivable. Everyone is involved with each other. One person's sneezing affects everyone in the house. The food, the temperature, the mood, etc. It's much more intrusive but more feeling. In MICA, there were no right or wrong timings for things. Here there is a right time for bathing and having food. There was no one place or even any place for anything, here there's place for everything. There was little civilization, here that's all there is to see.

What a world that was. People were alike and yet different. They confused me no end.
Collectively they would be mad. Individually they would be madder perhaps. But towards the end, I also realized that the batch would come together and make all things happen. I bow to that experience. I bow to the people, who would follow their dreams with most passion. I bow to also the ups and downs, for they made the journey like a ride. There was learning in the fine details and the broad strokes. In the grounds and the classrooms, in the solitude and togetherness and in every person I rubbed my shoulders with.

And while I am back at home, I have a summer vacation before which i can join work. I believe these might be the last summers, when I can learn to move a little bit in the kitchen, learn a little bit of French, tennis and also learn to plop-plop without having tea :)Therefore, learning doesn't stop. It never will. I will try and make the most out of it, while I can.

Later

no lions..just silhouettes !~

this, dear everyone, could be fairly long. There's just so much going in the head, and it's all churning out there.

I just came back from Gir and it was an experience worth telling. Not the most satisfying trips but 'yeh nahin kiya to kya kiya'. There were let-downs but it was fun, rising above those.
there were no lions in the Gir to be spotted. no luck with the lionesses either. Route six, however, allowed some of us a distant silhouette of a leopard. But nevermind that.
Safaris are great fun. Especially the Gir Safari. A large stretch of natural habitat, with 359 (in number) lions. Many thousands spotted deer and a wide variety of beautiful, exotic birds such as the 'night-jug' and the 'owl'. The owl, with its eyes open in the day. i believe they sleep with their eyes open.

Anyhow, PK, Juggy and Aunaunya and PK's friend were great company to have. For PK, lions mean everything. Everytime she heard something remotely sounding as 'lions', she would feel a surge of disappointment for not having to encounter one.

Anyhow, but like the great ones say about the journey being important and all that, I truly believe it's the safari, the sambhars and the spotted deer and not the lions and leopards that are coveted. The forests were barren and the hope was overwhelming. The ride was bumpy and the heat immense. But maybe I'll need to go a third time to be able to spot anything, because the probability in any case is 1/3rd, and I should have known that second visit was merely a formality.

Money-wise, it burnt a bit of a hole. But i never knew this is how foreign nationals are charged. I mean, i probably had known that these government run, touristy places do manage to charge foreign nationals more, but because we had such an immediate reason to worry for PK's German friend was with us, I never cared maybe. However it is, he is going back with an impression that Indians=Greedy, immoral bunch of conmen. My guess is that when he mentioned something about Indians being this way or that, he was never talking about us. This makes me believe that the touristy image of Indians still holds. Anyhow, for me, I will try to economize elsewhere.

There were all kinds of auto-rickshaws that we tried. And it was all great fun. And it was all very tiring also. And it was a little unbelievable. Because our place of stay was a little shady, some farmhouse, with little trace of much more civilization. In fact, very close to the sanctuary itself. We had the dainties food, cooked food, along with chutneys and pickles and freshly-made butter. Stomach-upset was a fear but in the many experiments, why should this be compromised.

There were some fresh realizations. Sometimes PK hums and I sing. I saw the whole stretch of a train. The WHOLE stretch in one glance, I mean without having to proceed it. I get used to a place and the loo in a much shorter time. When you try to wrap a wet towel around your jeans, for it to dry, the jeans soak the wet up before the sun dries it up. Sometimes head spins like crazy, making me afraid to close my eyes. I can see the sky change colours, when I'm playing tennis or sitting in the near-by tall tanki. It's vivid. Like a fast-foward film that shows day to night. I, sometimes make mental notes of the things I write about. And I lose the notes ever so often. I get inordinately excited and fascinated with all these small villages that I cross while travelling. The distance and the fact that I will never be able to visit that house, in which that frame hangs add to the enchantment. And ofcourse I like Prawns. They are a yummy thing.

Anyhow, there's lots happening with the people around me. My parents, Zoo, they are all going through huge dilemmas. I have no idea what I think about these dilemmas or how I think about them. But they are there for resolve.

There are other egos, how I have no idea become a little insurmountable. I have seen myself talking to people about how it's just about that big leap and being able to start talking, but it's difficult I would say but it's not one of those impossible things.


These days, people let their status messages talk no end. While MICA comes to an end, reading status messages and their count-downs are very interesting. I might take a while before my status message or my status become, one of nostalgia. I might take a while before I take that leap i was talking about. But before that there are soaked clothes to be washed, final matches to be won or lost and some nice food to be eaten. Till then.

Later

and this my friends, is MICA for you and MICA for me!

mica comes to an end. In a week. Might or might not miss it. Might miss it more than might not miss it. will miss the picturesque mornings and the still evenings. will probably miss chhota and tt. will miss this brand of laziness.

will miss the indiscipline. the crazy nights on assignments but more on playing baddy.

tennis. nights of incessant chatting with friends and neighbours.
will miss the promises of discipline though. and the latest nights at pat's with lots to drink and eat. with talks of love and hate. of life. of change. but mostly change and it's off the beaten track-ness. change mica has brought. lots of it. it's made me think. It's made me meet so many other people, culturally so diverse. it is a like a different geography, away from the influences of civilization.

Another civilization with it's own rules of sleep, drink, eat. Eat 4 meals per day complete with papad, dal, rice, salad, falka. the little bricked routes. Will miss the double and the single rooms. and the endless frustrating nights with mice. the sleepy nights with no recollection and the sleepless nights with the unpainted cement of the roof. will miss not brushing before lunch. will miss the luxury of not bathing (which I think is slightly over-rated anyway). zoo's and minkie's visits. and the tension i've borne because of them.

Will miss the uninterrupted net connections. will not know how much i sleep each day, because i have no idea when the day begins and ends. everyday passes without stopping to tell. much like the approaching trees in a moving train, that quickly rush past us. will miss dunking birthday girls and boys. the never-ending one and a half hour long classes. the 15 minutes long breaks. will miss the friends and acquaintances i met here, both good and bad. i respect them all. they all have some goodness. i will miss realizations that they help me reach faster. realizations such as they might not be the best people on earth, but since they are friends, they will be much more important perhaps than the best people on earth. will miss being counseled and counselling. the teasing and taking digs at people. but more importantly being teased (for the failure of the first).

Will miss being culturalized, being abused left right and centre. Will miss abusing immensely. Will miss people not getting scandalized on being abused.

Will miss the every kind of class, creed, colour and caste that treaded the paths of MICA with me. will miss writing like this, while the laptop rests on my stomach, the screen propped up. Will miss rains. will miss rains just too much. will miss silver oak, parijat and even chandni. will miss the placement processes. both summer and final. will even miss roxy, the best dog i've seen, though he still makes me uncomfortable. will miss going out ever so often.

I will probably not miss the uncertainty, the indiscipline, the variety, the individualism, the change, the assembly line, the 'trying-to-be-like-a -MICAN', the one and a half hour long classes, the endless assignments, the dissertation woes, the misfortune of being slotted with the strictest faculty panels. Will not miss the worst rodents that frequented my place. will not miss the oh-so-dirty loos that i got sometimes. And will not miss the things i missed in their good days, on bad ones. And sometimes also miss the things i did not mention I'll miss, in times when the worse rubs against me.

But whether I miss or don't miss these things, i can never forget, and every once in a while be stormed to remember because they are indelible impressions. And indelible impressions they will remain.

Later