The Compartmentalization of Desire

A lot of recent events have forced me to think about why we, as humans are sometimes the greatest barrier to our happiness. How we, ourselves hold the key to our own happiness, how we are the architects of each day of our life and the driver of each path we take. In our right state of mind, we are all enabled, sensible and thought out individuals well endowed with the capacity of taking decisions that should be taken. Why, then, given this advantage are we often our own biggest criminals?

I look around myself and see people I care for doing themselves grave injustice in their own decisions, and other than the standard 'pep' talk I can do nothing. After all, you can take the horse to the water, you cant make him drink. I see friends making compromises and sacrifices to keep transient relationships and fleeting feelings intact. While I understand its hard to let go - after all relationships come with a lot of desirable qualities - security, comfort, love etc. What I do not understand is why anyone would hold on to something simply because they're afraid to let go. Its about the 'What will I do without..' question that is plague. I say, why cant you ask yourself 'What am I doing with'?

Desire can take on morbid forms sometimes - its important to know when the line is breached. I graduated from being a foolish naive young girl into a woman who believes that 'YOU' have to be the most important person in your life. If YOU dont respect yourself, NO ONE will! Putting one's foot down in light of maintaining self respect or sanity are not only acceptable, they are MUST. DO. IT. NOW.

The transience of infinity

Its only once we realize the finite nature of things around us, do we really value them. Name the top three things that come to your mind - time, love, life? Have we all not, at one point or another thought of something as strange as what we'd do if we had 24 hours to live? Heck, I had to write a 300 word essay for my school applications recently! What we'd say to a loved one if he had 24 hours to live? How we'd spend the last week at home before leaving the country? What we'd say if it were the last conversation we were having?

Infinity, is actually, a misnomer. Come to think of it, everything in life can be allocated ephemeral pockets of circumstantial time slots and vacant spaces in our hearts. Do you still love the person you said you'd love forever? Most likely, not. We love circumstantially and conditionally, contrary to what Bryan Adams might say. A sequence of events led us to feel what we did at that point for another person who at that time fulfilled some latent need--wanting to be loved, to feel secure, to be a couple, to count on, it varies. Which brings me to the point - infinity is actually transient. fleeting. brief. momentary.

We live in a world of paradoxes. Where change is imperative and imminent, yet faced with intense opposition. We'd stagnate without it, yet we battle any change with formidable strength.

Where love is not 'forever' but 'until you suit me'. A world moving at whirlwind speed with more efficiency than ever before, yet where's the time?

Today as I count down to a new life, in a new country, I feel a heightened perception of emotions of all kinds stewing through me. Home cooked food, Mom's hug, friends phone calls, family - suddenly I'm treating these things with enormous depth. The other day I was driving past Marine drive and I remembered all the millions of times Ive driven past hurriedly to get home, but that day, I took in each curve in the road, each contour of this beautiful coastline, absorbing the energy of lovers, joggers and urchins just infusing life into this place. I pulled down the windows and let the salty sea spray ruin my hair for once without a grumble. I ate plain rice and dal without a squeak of opposition as I know there's going to be a day, not too soon when I might be craving this - and a status on a social networking site is all Ill have to contend with.

It's not just the impending move to another country - its the repercussions thereafter too. This could possibly be the last time I live in my parents home as me. This new life and move could have its extensions in marriage, who's to say? The other day someone asked me what my plans are, and whether ill marry and settle there, or work? I simply smiled and gave my now templated answer - 'I don't have a plan, I'll deal with whatever comes my way'.

Cause hell knows, when has life gone according to plan anyway?

I'm closer to where I started..

Now playing - Hanging by a moment (Lifehouse)

It's finally over and done with. The last day at work, for the next two years. After the past 4 years 1 month and 15 days of working in 2 companies, I finally said goodbye to my office on thursday, 15th April. I henceforth rewind the clock backwards into 2 years of studenthood, in another city, on another continent and a whole new world.

It was bittersweet - the last day at work. We underestimate how much people you spend at least 8 hours a day, 5 days a week begin to mean to us. On some heavy work months I spent more time with colleagues than even family! I left packing my desk and all its collectibles until the very last day - I couldnt imagine sitting there with a bald, empty desk even for a day. Its strange that the only things I had started off with were a frame of Ganpati and a picture frame of my Mom and I. Everything else on my desk accumulated over 3 years - farewell gifts, momentos, travel gifts, thank you gifts, secret santa gifts - you name it. Needless to say my desk was one more article away from being rented out by Hallmark.

It was those little things Ill remember most - packing away tiny gifts and remembering what they were for, getting that last signature on my full and final and submitting my swipe card - that loss of belonging, deleting all signs of my person on the computer - pictures, links, changing my screensaver. As I mailed myself all my bookmarked links - blogs of people I checked each day, I realized how attached I was to the well being and the updates of a few bloggers, strangers I'd bumped into, but who occupy a few minutes of my life each and every day. Now that was a realization.

I'm melancholic about having left - I had a great experience, with super bosses and a fantastic team, very fun peers and fantastic opportunities. I was a misfit of sorts, a person without a masters in a highly specialized niche, managing only through common sense and confidence. My last day turned out to be a fitting one as my friends made me a very thoughtful collage of all our pictures, painstakingly selected to include each person I had a bond with - although they left out the smiling gentle kakas - the watchmen who wish you first thing everyday, the one who bought me prasad from Siddhivinayak each tuesday.

I tend to be tipped on the scale of sentimentalism, if my blog already dint indicate that. So that day, I was determined not to cry. I knew i'd find it hard, cos its me, but i was on a mission. The put on a brave face cos your moving on to a new phase in life face. So I went about the day, doing what I love most - talking to every person who made a difference to my years there, and clicking snaps with all of them, thinking up captions for each picture. Thing is, when your around for a long enough time, specially todays attrition-riddled generation, a stint of 3 years+ means your probably among the oldest employees around. It also means you know everyone from cross functional departments - commercial, HR, etc. I was surprised, and touched by the genuine affection I was bestowed with, one that served as a detriment to my no crying agenda. Did I pull it off though? Yes. I did. well, almost. The breaking point came when I was accompanied to the taxi by all of 15 people, more a spectacle than anything else (Had i been not so emotionally overwhelmed, I wouldve made inappropriate jokes about how this was like a scene from Hindi movies when one person is moving from the village to the city and almost the entire village comes to see him off). At that time though, I interpreted it all as love.

Thats the thing though, life is just so much more myriad when you magnify each emotion, when you give and receive, love and be loved. Life really, is about the living, not the surviving.

Its tough moving on from a place of comfort, a zone of accomplishment, where everyone knows you for who you are and what your capable of. I, look at it as stagnating. Battling strangely intricate feelings, saddled with a healing heart and uncertainties was not easy. But again, who said anything that was worth something is?

What I did this summer!

Wednesday, 7th April - Mumbai - Chennai

Thursday, 8th April Chennai - Delhi

Friday, 9th April Delhi - Kolkata

Saturday, 1oth April - Kolkata - Mumbai

3 days, 3 cities. Was madnessly tiring but fun as a concept. Only wish I had done the 'Golden Quadrilateral' by road and not air. Had to since was travelling on work. The highlights of the trip...

• The last flight back home was half an hour late, and this was the most on time I got anywhere, averaging between an hour to and hour and half late.
• Kolkata was 41'c!
• I ate 4 meals by myself and hence the eating alone at a place phobia has been overcome.
• I broke a plate at the buffet :/
• Creepy guy on the flight said he'd add me on facebook. I therefore proceeded to misspell my last name.
• Lived with her at Kolkata! YAY! :)
• It turned dark at 6.30 p.m. in the evening at Kolkata whereas Chennai and Delhi were bright as sunshine!
• I saw a TRAM at Kolkata!

All I do is miss you, and the way we used to be.

I'm beginning to understand why people get 'boring' as they get older. Why butterflies in the stomach 'used to be' that feeling you knew, why it gets harder as time flies by. It was a strange, startling discovery when a song played in the background yesterday - Romeo and Juliet by Dire straits. One of my favorites.. Ive been humming it ever since.

I'm a music person - I had a song for every mood - mellow, happy, sad, sad-sad, happy-sad, melancholy, in love, heartbreak, make up, break up, aloof, spaced out.... I had one playing in my mind everyday and that song defined my mood. I remember this week that "Bittersweet symphony" was the song in my mind and I went about the week feeling randomly disjoint and pieced apart. This other time Boulevard of broken dreams was playing on my mind and I had a nasty few days since it reminded me of a friend whose no more. And it was his favorite song. Hungry eyes was that song I danced to. You get my drift.

Today on my way to work in the cab, I realized how the music in my life has been replaced. Slowly, without realizing the transformation I was talking to myself each day - debating the outcome of my day, the presentation I am supposed to make, that conversation I had last night, the emails I need to reply to, where my relationship is going, what Im going to write in my application essays... its all getting thought without a background score in place.

It was after that I hooked up my laptop and played back some of my favorite music - Mark Knofler, Coldplay, maroon 5, floyd... its safe to say that the state Im in currently could be called "on a trip" or "spaced out" or some other such vaguely intense definition.

Each song hides moments, memories - nestled in the notes, the lyrics. Its like Mark Knofler said "All i do is kiss you - through the bars of a rhyme". I've hidden so many stolen moments, kisses, glances, rides, tears, fears in the folds of so many songs... and discovering them sometimes by accident is just a delicious tingle - a feeling so infinite, of being able to travel time and 'relive'.

Moments have a way of shrinking when put into words - but they magnify when romanced with music. making love, out of nothing at all.

Here's to a homecoming - to my favorite boys - Dave Matthews band , Dire Straits , maroon 5, coldplay, Neil Diamond, Randy travis, Richard Clayderman, and my girlies - Norah Jones, Alanis and Tracy.

The Song I'd dedicate right now? 1992 Serendipity - Forever and Ever, Amen. Randy Travis. (click link for song)

The dice was loaded from the start...

Romeo and Juliet, lyrics (Dire Straits) (click link for song)

On Saturday night I went for my college reunion. Engineering revisited - 4 years of my life spent in the nooks and crannies of a (then) raggedy old building. Its now new and funky - the run down shed like laboratories replaced by a new age modernistic look. Floating amphitheaters, a dinosaur ribcage stairway and a canteen that looked more like the food court of an expensive mall. I sure was wowed.

I found myself missing those hallowed shoddy walls - that makeshift look, and those dull grey corridors. These clinical precisely painted ones felt like they replaced my memories - hushed the secrets and caved in my relationships. 4 years is a long time to spend, and I had the biggest metamorphosis of my life in these years. I grew from being a tomboy with sideburns and anti-fit beer t shirts to being a "woman" who finally acknowledged breasts as a privilege and not an irritant. I had the biggest heartbreak of my life - one that in many ways shaped the way I love now, forged and lost some of the greatest friends I could possibly ever have. I failed miserably academically, realized engineering is a tough nut to crack, got my act together and redeemed my slowly declining self esteem.

Still, going back to college that day was a surreal experience. I met 2 friends, each my best in someway or the other. One, an ex-love. I can hardly say 'ex' when the never left that part of my heart right? Emotional investment in ways I dint know possible. Knowing I was coming to face him, nearly 3 years since made me unsure of myself, scared, uneasy, excited, a stew of multifarious emotions playing havoc. Nothing could have prepared me for the evening that lay before me, not even my best dreams about our eventual face off.

The actual function at college was nothing to write home about. I felt 50 years old, since the other "Alumni" were batch of 2009 etc. (Should they even be called Alumni?). After the "reunion" the 3 of us went to Soul fry casa at Bandra and 3 large pegs down, for one night, 5 years after graduation and a million changes in our lives later, we took time off to be the people we used to be. The same 3 fools talking random incoherent disjoint conversations. Changes, if any were only subtle. I took a few drags from a smoke, so there's a revelation, given my anti smoking tirade thus far.

These 2 people, changed in their own ways in the past 3 years felt like home to me. There's a certain comfort in being around people who knew "that" me. The naive foolish romantic one before stoicism and a general all round cynicism took over. I had no defenses, no walls, nothing, and this very sense of vulnerability, which I had denied myself the pleasure of feeling was exhilarating in itself. It was wonderful, and surreal.

Thats the thing with an ex-love. an old friend. everything about them reeks familiarity - the perfume brand you know, the contours of their body, the feel of their fingers, the curve of their smile, the undertone in their voice, that look in their eye, that wrinkle on the sides of the lips which give away the identity of a smirk, smile or sarcasm. They are like that dusty old armchair you can snug into whose touch make you feel better already, which understands your long sighs and pregnant pauses, that warm fuzzy ray of sunshine which creates a halo of elevated feelings that eclipses all else.

We couldn't even lie about how much we've changed. Structural changes aside - new jobs, promotions, going to school etc aside, on the person front, there were just no discernible changes. We just knew we had missed each other. There wasn't even a point denying it. Sometimes hugs and handshakes say more than words do, and we were smart enough to realize the futility of pretense.

We sat at the helipad in my building, 37 floors high on the highest point in Mumbai till 4.30 a.m. - long silenced interspersed with nostalgia, randomness and sighs, alternating between being with each other and alone. A dichotomy of singularity and togetherness as we transcended space, time, distance and change to be who we were 5 years ago.

Maybe one last time, maybe one last us.

Antaheen

Pronounced - "Ontoheen" A Bengali film ** I watched yesterday.**p.s the link has spoilers

One I'd recommend you'll all to watch if you can lay your hands on it. National award 2009 winner, starring Rahul Bose, Aparna Sen, Sharmila Tagore, Antaheen starts off on a slow note, and cocoons you into a trance with the background score, the mesmerizing dialogues and the visual poetry. All my senses were heightened while watching this movie as I became one with the script and the unfolding of events.

No emotion is in abundance - the glory of this movie is in the subdued mellowness - one that engulfs us in our life more often than not. No time to love, grieve and really 'live'. A mellowness that you would relate to, of being in love and yet not, of being certain yet not for sure, of conversations in your mind coming alive with musical notes and moonshine and yet being unsaid. There are many love stories intertwined, and yet there arent. Ronjon da and Parro di love each other desperately yet contain it within the realms or their hearts and the depths of their eyes. Its easy to tell how much dependence and vulnerability links thee two characters, and still there's words unsaid, emotions unquantified and feelings undiscussed.

The movie absorbs you further and further till it reaches a melodious orgasmic finale. A sad one, but befitting of the string of reality that ties the movie together.

Modern day romances of song and dance and exaggerated feelings really make for a foolish watch. They're far from our daily lives and hard to relate to. In this scenario a film maker making a film with such superior emotions, such well rounded characters and screenplay that makes each scene look like a work of art, beautiful and lustrous in its depiction. This really is modern day Kolkata with Parro di a workaholic advertising professional having a smoke break and drinking a martini on her husbands birthday. The aerial views and the landscapes depicted are truly phenomenal, it almost makes one feel as though the director is just taking the liberty of showing off this city.

Sharmila Tagore's story is an unexpected one, which later one parallels with the more modern version of Rahul Bose's. how a modern setting can affect the same feelings, and the same emotions is truly worth a thought.

All in all, a must watch, and a wonderful experience to sit through. If you have it in you, try listening more to the Bengali - the dialogues are a treat, and in Bengali, even more sensous.

A why?

Love is painful. And in that, we are all masochists - perennially wanting to fall prey to, or entice someone to succumb.

I ask you why?

Growing up is hard on the knees

The top things I HATE about growing up (err, older)

• Decisions - From which teacher I like most to which field should I specialize in, it just gets significantly harder. And your expected to take them ALL by yourself, AND do a good job of it. Heck what do I know? I no wanna get married, or decide which country to move and study in, parents outta do it. This half assed job of "now your grown up, you must decide yourself" is just them shirking their responsibility. yes.
• Generation gaps - From the coolest thing you owned being a frisbee to now being uncool without an ipod. Getting 10 bucks a month and saving up from that to 1600 bucks a month and complaining (Yes, its a meager pocket money for a 16 year old apparently)
• Changing landscapes - From "mommy whats this building", to "You know, during my childhood there was so and so here". I never got it when my father used to say Cuffe parade didnt exist then, it was all sea, and now i do when i point out a "used to be" to my 16 year old brother. A slow quiet renaissance in the landscape of the surroundings means it gets harder to identify with the new chique and clinical buildings. Old school Victorian architecture has a charm like no glassy, clean cut modern building can ever dream of having.
• Obsoletion - (I know it isnt a real word) Brands, technology, favorite tv shows, actors, fads - all symbols of 'your time' - fade into oblivion. I take offense when my brother finds something i loved 'uncool'. drat 16 year olds
• Complexity - work and professional life are getting more intertwined, childhood is fusing directly into adulthood, newer diseases are cropping up, and we struggle to stay afloat. come to think of it, even music succumbed - no longer are genres defined as 'rock' or 'pop' - theres 'fusion rock -pop' or 'punk techno blues' which basically means when i go to a club which apparently defines what music its playing that night, I have NO clue what to expect. Dj so-and-so playing the best of "house funk fusion rnb" and I pay 1500 rs for that?
• Expectations - from one candybar for a good result in school to expecting a 100 thousand dollar salary from an MBA grade, we've come a long way baby.
• Crossroads - I need to decide which country to move to. and Im hating it. Maybe why thats why this post.

Had a drink?

Then STAY AWAY FROM DRIVING. Drinking and driving, or for that matter even speaking on the cellphone and driving is criminal and irresponsible. Not only are you responsible to your fellow passenger and yourself, but hundreds of innocent people on the streets too. Want to drink and drive? Feel free to bang into a pole, wreck your own car and bones. You have NO right to alter someone else life, someone who had no fault but to be on the same street as the menace you were driving.

For rash language and the forthcoming judgmental post, I do not apologize.

The recent incident with Nooria Haveliwala, the 27 year old South Mumbaiite who mowed down 2 people and injured 5 after a night of partying has shaken me to no end. Not only is she someone who is a friends friend, she is also an example of accidents waiting to happen. She had over 450 mg of alcohol in her blood (Of course now she claims it benadryl/someone was following her) after a long night of fun, was driving home in her expensive car which made good its claims of life saving air bags since she doesn't have a scratch on her.

Others, unfortunately weren't as lucky. Two people - a constable on duty and a motorcyclist taking a breath analyser test (not drunk) were killed and 5 injured. Innocent bystanders to someones irresponsibility.

My Facebook status sayign I boycott drunk driving and drunk drivers created an uproar of sorts - some friends claiming they've gone 13 years drinking and driving and never having an accident. My keyword for all those using this line is : "YET". You've not had an accident YET. Are you waiting to have one to be proved wrong?

I was looking at pictures of this girl, from her now deleted facebook profile - regular partying and socializing pictures - the kind that even I have on my profile. She probably dint realize she'd be making front page one day did she? That's the thing with accidents - they don't forewarn you, and hence you have to try and behave within acceptable and responsible limits - whatever is within your control. Im tired of learning from expensive mistakes.

Mistakes when so many people lose their lives and then we sit up. Drunk driving, 26/11, religious violence. Do we really need such expensive incidents to be shaken out of our somnolence? If we as citizens are so lackadaisical in our attitude towards OUR OWN RESPONSIBILITIES, who are we to point fingers at politicians and the government? After all, India is a democracy, our leaders were once regular citizens like us.

I've said this before, and Ill say it again. Lets take our responsibility seriously first, and then point fingers. Lets spread the contagion of civic and moral responsibility - its not that hard. I'm sure as hell gonna try.

Margaret Meade once said "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has" and I truly believe her. Its time you did too.

Making chapattis, one shape at a time.

Yes, me.

My mom and maid are out of town and Im left at home with a 17 yr old brother and a dad. OH BOY. Bulls in a china shop is a better expression for how they are at managing their own chores. My dad does chip in his bit, by switching his (6.30 a.m) morning cup of tea with plain milk (phew) so I dont have to drag my half asleep self to make chai at unearthly times.

This does however enable my smartass-just-finding-his-sense-of-humour brother to come up with a few gems like "I wont do any of the girly stuff" (when I asked him to list how he will chip in with the work) by girly he of course meant cooking cleaning washing ironing. That effectively left me with the only logical manly thing I thought he'd do. eat. sleep. shit. (did this blog just turn PG13?)

There was also the "Fine. Ill do the kitchen stuff" When asked exactly WHAT he meant by that considering I am fully aware of his cooking prowess, he replied he'd make breakfast for us. It deserves an applause, certainly. UNLESS of course he serves us chocos and milk. Which he did. Which I had to un-serve and replace with chai, bread and egg. (Am I complaining already?).

To top it off, sunday evening I came home to find the two men in the kitchen, making chapattis (more like parathas). Obviously they were fat and burned and the kitchen window was closed which made the kitchen smoke up. The thought was all cute and captured on camera but 2 parathas down when I insisted on cooking myself and had to clean up their mess first, I realized they do me a favor by staying out of the kitchen. GAH.

I have new found respect for women who manage jobs, homes and men. I never realized how difficult it actually is. I am used to doing a lot of my own work, and am a bit of a monica in terms of ordering stuff, cleanliness and the like, but managing a house is a different ball game.

Here, my perfectly round, wonderful chapatis deserve a mention. Seasoned cooks like my mother took years to perfect the art of roti making - one which I have pursued relentlessly and now am perfect at. 3 points to me! Now if only the triangular parathas I was making wouldve turned out right. Ah well, one shape at a time.

And yes, this is a post after a really long time. Feel strange, having drifted away from your own blog. Although I have blog post conversations in my mind each day, they dont translate. But this is a step in the posting more often direction cause this is something I want to stubbornly hang onto. So hello again :)

Picking up speed, cause Im over the hill!

If you dont know where your heading, but trying reallyy really hard to get there, will you still make it?

Screw Mid-life crisis. I have a quarter life crisis staring me in the face. A 24 year old in the guise of a 26 yr old who'll be 27 in 2010. Damn. I know Baz Luhrman said some of the coolest people he knows at 40 dont know what they want from their lives, but I sure as hell dont want to be one of them! Do I really want to trust someone whose greatest piece of advice was 'wear sunscreen' ? (I don't even do that. Im totally done for)


I have spent the last few months of my life focusing on direction. Changing lanes. Taking a leap. Yet today so many things are uncertain. Very unsettling. The next few months (years maybe) are an offshoot of the next 2 months. An algorithm which will determine which one of the two very conrasting lives Ill lead this year. And no Im not getting married. Which is another thing. 4 friends have fallen prey to the 'arranged marriage' bug last year ('09), most will be married this year ('10). one of whom, is my best and oldest friend. The one i know since 2nd grade and has been with me through thick and thin. It sure will be strange watching her sail off into the sunset, for the first time in a direction so far from me. She was one constant in my life since the past 15 years, one I'm used to being around in happy and sad sitatuions alike.

So, hello 2010. I have great expectations from you, personally and otherwise. I promise to work hard, strive for the things I want, and learn to relax a little more. Just give me a sign!

The end and a new Beginning.

2 lost cellphones. one exams. one new niece. 4 more kilos. one pair of killer strappy black heels.
one more birthday. one almost wedding.3 terrorists. one aniversary. moving homes. brother beginning junior college. two haircuts. a million bruises and scrapes. one new watch. two exams. 3 more inches of hair. one boyfriend. 3 married friends. 2 pregnant ones. photo in paper. the beginning of Indiahelps. my first 'own' saree. 3 injections, a million spasmobars. one friend lost forever. Learning. Yearning. Earning. one dance class. 9 months in the new home. wasted gym membership. one dent 0n car. a million hours of studying, another million applying. 8 new books. my first stocks. one painful wart treatment. one bad fight. one sorry.

2010 here I come. I hope its happy. For all of us.

Riding the Elephant...

Title derived from Shashi Tharoors - The Elephant, the tiger and the cellphone. (Currently reading)

I'm in an enamored phase - with my country. India. Call it the rub off effect of the two back to back books I just read - 'We are like that only' - Rama Bijapurkar and 'The elephant the tiger and the cellphone'. While the former turned out to be a light read given the industry I work in, the latter was a wonderful experience with its sophisticated language, insightful details and substantiated opinions. Shashi Tharoor is an intelligent man, one Ive grown to respect through the years.

Ive begun understanding Why we are like that only! from a few culturally rooted customs in India which our parents pass down to us. Surely we are a confusing lot, the really rich and the not so rich, the middle class and its upper and lower, the have some's and the have not's. But one things for certain -- India is represented in its plurality, its heterogeneity and the intertwining of cultures, religions, languages and the juxtaposition of classes. Tharoor says The Spanish speak Spanish, French speak French and Indians speak Marathi, Bengali, Gujarathi, Parsi, Sindhi and so on. So what defines brand India?

We know that the purpose of a brand remains the ability to spontaneously associate values, images and differentiators to a product offering. Say Life Insurance, and your likely to say LIC or say LIC and your likely to think trust, stability and security. Either way, your associating a brand with a category or vice versa. Unfortunately, think of brand India and we're likely to come up with myriad answers - foreigners are likely to conjure images of people squatting on public places, poverty drizzled all over the cityscape while Indians are likely to think of a more westernized answer - the IT/BPO rise of a new generation, Slumdog Millionaire etc.

India's getting richer -- but where is it going? We're certainly not investing in stocks or mutual funds. They're too risky a proposition for our conservative liking. The number of billionaires in India nearly doubled to 52 in 2009 and their combined net worth reached $276 billion, or a quarter of the country's GDP, the India Rich List published by Forbes magazine revealed. Not much of this money's going out of India though, most are settled within the country itself.

As we move into another year -- this one hopeful of a recovering economy, hesitant to exult much too early until results are backed up with a tremendous final quarter. Things do look good on the financial front though - the GDP forcecast exceeded expectations and stocks have slowly begun giving positive returns as well. Retail Investors had many opportunities of rallies and short term gains with a see-sawing index. A very senior person at a Broking firm I once presented to once told me "We guy get scared when the sensex plateaus - its when there are ups and downs that we're really geared up" Well, he sure had plenty opportunities this year.

I want to see reform in 2010. Delivery of promises. Burial of Ajmal Kasab. Burning to death actually. I want to see the end of the Trial and want my city to finally have its peace.

I want my country not to back down at Copenhagen in the future -- maintain its resolve on issues that are important. I want India to rise to the questions that surround its very existence - the success or failure of democracy, the globalization of its civilization and the threats to Indians from within India itself. I want this bird of gold*, to take flight.

(*bird of gold - name borrowed from Mc. Kinsey Global Institute report 2008)

Mc Dreamy? More like Mc Dorky

I spent a few minutes trying to caption the title of this post appropriately. However, there seems no word to describe this feeling of insignificant little bittersweet teeny-tiny victory, this slightly nasty, very glorious, surprising exciting feeling.

There just isnt a word to describe how you feel when you see a boy you had a big crush on as a kid, a boy who you thought you will end up marrying (but did'nt of course because you well err umm, never spoke) GO BALD!!!

This is sweeter because this boy never spoke with you much because you were too much of a tomboy and beat him at basketball and flirted with that little punt in the mini.

I feel like prancing about in all my hotness and saying TAKE THAT :D

Boy, it feels good to be a little naughty sometimes.

Living in an Uptown World

I just got back from Pune recently. Had gone to take a test to prove my proficiency in English. Could I not have sent them my blog link I wondered? But then that’s as good as wanting to send a link to your facebook profile to demonstrate personality facets. Come to think of it, it does seem rather efficient to do no?

Pune gave me what Mumbai hasn’t in many years... A cold winter morning. To think that I was dropped to the station in the biting cold in a two wheeler that only served to intensify the chattering of teeth, is strangely a delicious thought. It was great fun. Of course, being a typical low immunity Mumbaikar I was wrapped in ONLY about 4 layers of clothes and socks. The plurality of weather in the same day – the chilly wind meets mid afternoon sun makes one want to dance between shadows and sun. And this is only Pune, a few hundred kilometres from Mumbai. I remember my Delhi stint as a child – thats where the real winters are.

I have relatives in Pune, the closest to Mumbai. My folks are not from this city, and we moved here on dads posting and have been here ever since. Relatives interaction was restricted to vacations and there has little or no influence of extended family in my life. No societal pressure, no obligations whatsoever. Its strange then, that I envy friends who envy me. Friends who have large circles of family scattered around them in the city they live, often in the same buildings. Friends whose families all gather on occasions for gregarious parties, whose cousins are roughly the same age and who keep each other’s secrets, whose extended families are a wonderful, secure safety net, whose presence is redolent of a nourishing growing up and a symbiotic life.

Sometimes I don’t envy my privacy, the distance from family you meet once in 2-3 years, the family who doesn’t know your life and your formative years. I find myself in an extremely difficult conundrum – my parents, and therefore me have extremely modest backgrounds, as do most children of the post liberalization era. My life and identity with my extended family I feel, is another side of me, a mask I don when I’m around them. From not going out partying to when my granny’s visiting to not being vocal about how much time I exactly spend outside my house, how much money Id spend on apparel or a cocktail I like (or that I like cocktails, for that matter)its all a careful composition of the Serendipity that they’d expect from a branch of the family tree. Not to sound as though I have a very flashy lifestyle or that Im a social butterfly with her daily dose of cosmo’s, but I am a Mumbai girl after all – who likes her coffee shops, shoes, clothes, bags and shades. I almost fear that If I were to completely be me in my natural avatar, they wouldn’t associate with the external me. The congruence in core values among us, however is never an act or an enhancement, the fruit never falls far from the tree after all.

A lot of people my age in today’s day and age have grown up in an India of the free economy and are the post liberalisation generation (well almost, Im not THAT old), we have a multitude of opportunities for education, career, we have brands spoiling us silly, companies paying us more at a younger age, we’re not afraid of consumption – in fact we live by it. In short, we’ve not seen the frugal, thrifty side of India. The one our parents grew up in. The one my parents and relatives still live in. Luckily my parents have found a wonderful middle ground of modernity and traditionalism and embraced and imbibed it into our lives. They grew out of their small town roots and suffused all restricting thoughts and beliefs and have grown to be parents of the new India, striking a harmonious balance between luxuries accorded to us and other do’s and dont’s.

A major metro and small(er) town upbringing also plays its part in augmenting in dissimilar backdrops and hence differing attitudes. Again, not to say that I have differences with my EF, we get along just fine, its the feeling of not being as integrated into one another’s lives that I refer to here.

When we were planning my wedding a thought of how my metro crowd and my relatives would gel together would keep cropping up. A distinct difference between can be noticed even by the most ignorant of people – the affluence of the metro-folk and the modesty of the smaller-town folk. How the confluence of the two would play out at my wedding would play on my mind. Both would, in their right would enjoy the wedding I know, but how would cousins who’re used to speaking the native tongue most often gel with my friends with their articulate English? Minor inconsistencies and major ranting, I realize. But what’s on my mind is on my mind right?

26/11 - You Heard My story, now hear his.

Last year, on the 26th Of November, My Dad walked into the Trident after hearing of some 'random bomb blast' in the Lobby. We didnt know what was happening as the media had reported stories ranging from Shiv Sena to local gangs to what not. We werent strangers to Hostile situations. 26/11 was certainly the worst, but not the first time My dads put his life on the line in the Call of Duty.

Little did we know what he was getting into.
You Heard my story - Now Hear His. My Dad, My hero.
(click on picture for embedded video)

Positive Affirmation for the soul

Dear Serendipity of 10 years ago

Wo. 26 in a months time? That's huge! Thats the age you made fun of when you were 16, thinking its over the hill. Your right about that though, what follows 26 is'nt very pretty. 27-blabla-30!

Your doing ok though, your kind of taking the round-about route for everything. For instance, remember you wanted to take up journalism, and then changed your mind and thought Medicine was your true calling? You ended up taking Engineering instead after you realized you pretty much pass out at the sight of blood. You did deal with the compassion you wanted to channelise into medicine in a different way though, you'll see. After 4 rigorous and testing years, Your not working in an engineering related job though. Your too fiery to be holed up in an IT/Software job. The Archer (Saggitarian) instincts in you meant you somehow found your way into a stream which you did'nt know of until you took it up. But it does give you a rush, Presenting to an audience of Senior Professionals, knowing what your doing counts for something gives you that adrenaline rush you love.

Oh, btw, Abhi and you didn't work out. Neither did most people you thought would. I cant believe you thought everyone who dated one year and above were serious enough to get married. Were you that Naive? Of course you were! You wanted to 'save up' for your husband, thinking of words such as purity, virginity and steadfast love were reasons enough. Well, hang on you did. Not that it matters in today's world anyway.

You know that guy who you were introduced to, who you though was a nerd-bomber cause he'd be studying in the library all time in the 11th standard when the rest of the world was bunking and having fun? That guy you barely even said hi to, and who wore shorts with socks and floaters just like you and that's the only thing other than his dimple you noticed about him? He grew to be one of your bestest friends, the guy you almost married, and then the friend you miss. Life sure is strange.

Do you remember being every body's buddy, the 'cute' one, but never 'sexy', and secretly wishing sometimes, maybe sometimes its the other way round? Do you remember your baggy trousers, short boyish hair, careless attitude and gruff unpolished tomboyishness? That you thought you'll always be the 'boy' in the group, the one whose always slapped around on the back and challenged to a basketball game? That sometimes you wished you had long pretty hair and made a guys head turn as you walked into a room? I got news for you. Your hair grew out, and you lost weight and boy did you make some heads turn. It was like a makeover story gone right. Well, almost. You still guffaw and burst into peals of unconfined unabashed laughter when you feel like it and vociferously let your opinion be known. A Leopard cant change its spots?

TBC...

A Reality Check?

Was well overdue. I very excitedly exclaimed my new found poker and teen patti abilities on the facebook world, fueled by a recent winning spurt on Diwali day. 'Beginners luck shigginers luck' I told myself, 'you won by sheer talent woman'. Now a person like me dismissing beginners luck or any kind of luck is extremely justified given the strokes of (un)luckiness Im usually thick in the midst of. You know the person who waits in line for an hour to reach the ticket window and it shuts just when its her turn? Or the person who will make 7 trips to a government office, each time rejected for different missing documents, or the person who always plays Housie or cards and never wins? That's me!

[To be fair, I did win 5 bottles of citra in kids housie one time when i was 10, and another time i won a pair of plastic cockroaches for my rendition of a brilliant Hindi poem. (I thought they liked it?)] Heck, I was Memory game champ in Delhi and I STILL never won birthday party memory games - you know the one with the tray covered with 10 items and you have a minute to look at them and recollect? My all-Delhi champ status suffered a heavy bruising by these childish birthday party games. Its like Miss India losing in a Miss Lokhandwalla competition or something. [well, not exactly but you get my point.]

So, the point being that My initial assumption of acquisition of supreme poker playing skills were trashed (rather badly) when I cleaned out my first bank in a matter of 20 minutes. Clearly playing at 20 blind is an expensive affair with pots reaching the magnitude of 1500 rs in no time. I stared wistfully at my chips, long gone, and doing the rounds in other peoples kitty. Fortunately I lacked the courage of taking another bank immediately, choosing instead to be a spectator for the last two hours of the game. phew.

Must watch This video - Gus Hansen, known to be a reckless Poker player, and one of the highest poker pots in the history of the game. I feel ashamed missing my 500 bucks.