I believe I can fly

World over - people travel and hike to see flocks of migrating birds. Whether its Flamingos, Herons, Siberian Cranes..much has been written and photographed about flocks of wings that travel many thousands of miles, across time zones, countries, continents, seven seas and all that.

Thank God, there is no INS and visa issuance for Pink Footed Geese.

Above all, Migration is an act of survival.

You've just got to do it.

The crazy thing is - when you're leaving one place and going to another, spanning that much of a distance, its not possible to bring everything with you.

Your friends for one..

Your job for another....

Your way of life ..if we're still reading this..

Theres always parts of us that we leave behind. And its always not possible to abandon things that we want to either.

We carry with us our same dreams, our fears ..and maybe end up making the same mistakes in the new place too.

Until its time to take off once again.

The funny thing is ..that even though so much changes in our lives, seemingly so to the external world, so much remains unchanged. We;re not able to doctor change in certain parts of our lives no matter how hard we try. Change of place, Change of mindset, Change of viewpoint, Change of heart even..

For some of us, This manifests itself in a frustrating career situation that we're not able to alter..for others its a relationship gone askew...or the lack of one...for many ..its the lack of a purpose..and so we lie awake at night trying to figure out what needs to change ..so that this aspect of our life may change.

A Change that will induce Change.

Its fuel for many tears, many gloomy blog posts, many discussions over coffee and many conspiratory plots hatched within the fragile walls of our rooms and hearts.

Its exhausting and energizing and chilling and hope giving.

All at the same time.

A Long Island Ice tea diced with emotional lemons.

But the truth is that like someone said ..when you are through with change ..you are through.

You've just got to believe that you can fly...and rise above things than keep you down.

So you've got to take a deep breath and keep at it.

And so I do.

Amen.

Where are you Mr Superman ?

Yesterday I heard a cute rendition of the alphabet where "S for Socks" had been replaced with "S for Superman"

Its weird - as a kid I too craved to be Superman and wear that shiny bright blue red outfit with the cape and a blazing S.

Then how on earth did I end up as disillusioned perpetually worrying secretly optimistic 30 year old who wants to be rescued instead ?

Its baffling.

Superman .. Strong.. extraordinary .. Clean hearted..rises above the menial day to day issues and focuses on the good in everbody.

Sunday Night - I came face to face with yet another ghost.

And realised how completely human I was inspite of the war paint I seem to wear on most days.

Put up the fight of a life time.

Walked away with everything intact.

Except my heart.

Where are you Mr Superman ?

Movie Review: Slumdog Millionaire

Rating: 3.25/5

I think that if I had not read the book that the movie is based on (Q&A :Vikas Swaroop) and had seen this movie prior to the Oscar Hula Hype .. I would have been inclined to rate it much higher.

Overall: A must watch. Tight gripping script, terrific screenplay and editing, love the cast ..and stellar performances by everyone. Shows Amchi Mumbai in all its shades, grey, pink, red, yellow, black, white .. this movie is a treat for those with an artistic eye.

Light moments: None - whatsoever

Need a box of tissues: Yes. Not during the movie. But afterwards. When the story will hit you. Please dont plan on doing anything immediately after. Especially if you live in Bombay. You will never look at a traffic signal with little street kids the same way again.

Overall Theme: You cannot change what you were born with, but you can change who you become. Two boys, brothers, gripped by communal violence find their meagre lives uprooted and taken on the whirlwind of a journey. Both make completely different choices at each juncture. Jamal is unable to let the worst kind of adversity extinguish the flame of hope and goodness in his heart. Salim chooses to wear an armor of steel to protect himself.

But even the toughest kind of metal melts when engulfed in the flames of love.

Afterall - It's written.

- This movie above all was a love story. Of the worst kind. The kind of love that we all secretly hope for. Jamal embraces the kind of love that most of us only dream of .. impossible, random, fueled by an old promise and completely mad. And then he decides to stick with it. No matter where life leads him, he keeps coming back ..and knocking at the same door ..till it finally opens.

50 Cents:

What does it really take to make us happy ?

There are 2 kids - living in the worst kind of poverty, who grapple with life threatening situations on a daily basis ...but wear their hearts of their sleeves and live life the way it is meant to be lived. Truly. Madly. Deeply.

No amount of money or education or support system can compensate for lack of that inside us which has the will to survive and be happy.

This movie also shamefully brings to light the worst kind of social exploitation and human rights violation that exists in countries like India. And make you feel much lesser of a human being for just standing back and leeting it happen.

I drove back from the movie in a blur and stopped at the same traffic light outside my house.

Dozens of little children, begging,selling chinese made everything and being bullied by older stronger children and goons. And when the light turned green - I just drove on.

Those of us who stand back and watch and say things like "you cant change the system" and "whats can one person do" are as much responsible for the fate of little kids like Jamal and Salim as those that perpetuate that fate physically. Its brutal - but its true.

Would I watch it again: Nope. I dont think I'll lose this lesson ever to warrant another watch.

I'm loving it.

Fall 2001 was probably the most difficult period in my life so far. As I grappled with change and the heartache that came with it ..I remarked to some friends of mine that I thought I needed to get away .. for a weekend ..go to the mountains and sit by a lake and contemplate. Now believe me, trying to find a mountain when you lived in Gainesville, FL was a lot of hard work.

I settled instead for going on a two day trip to Tampa, FL.

Greyhound was the only mode of transport I could afford.

In the drab grey Greyhound bus station on 13th Street, ....I was the most excited happy person. My cheeks flushed with the excitement that only the promise of a journey can bring. Believe me, the air was so thick with my optimism, that you could have cut it with a knife. That bus could have taken off and flown.

I was happy to get a window seat and looked out as I saw the lights on Archer road dissappear.

Just when I had convinced myself that I was out in the wilderness and darkness was my friend who would lead me into the light ...out of the blue ..I saw it. A golden arch with sub dollar menus in neon.

I had the sinking sensation that I was never going to leave the city behind.

My past would always follow me around.....like a Big Yellow sign.

Even when I chose to leave it and cross over into the wilderness .. there would still be atleast one yellow sign somewhere.

Those were strange and difficult days.

But the tide turned. It took 2 years, but time as usual did manage to outweight those heavy moments.

Once again. I was on the brink of change.

This time, moving to an unknown city - Atlanta, Ga...where I knew no - one.

I had rented a car. My drivers permit was less than 2 weeks old. I had never driven on the interstate alone before. I barely knew how to use my new cell phone.

Yet I knew that I finally had that second chance that not very many people get.

And there I was ..tossing and turning in bed. Unable to sleep.

Everything I owned in the world was in the car.

I had never been more afraid.

Afterall, everything that was now familiar and safe was in Gatorland.

My memories, my life ..even my problems, my self doubts....

All my close friends with the exception of one had moved out of Gainesville by then ..to follow their own destinies. And now it was my turn.

I think the first one hour of that drive was the most trying.

And just when I had crossed the state border - the farthest I had been from my new home in a long time.. I felt like Frodo when he left the shire. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I was aware of that precise moment when everything I knew was left behind.

And it was in that exact happy-sad life shaping moment, that I saw it again.

And burst out laughing in a way that only quasi mad self proclaimed happy artist writers do.

It was a big golden arch. Stretching across the turquoise georgia sky.

I forgot about my worries and my fears.

I remembered the greyhound trip and smiled.

That day, on that drive to Atl, I learnt something very important.

I was not afraid any longer.

Because I knew then inside my heart that my comfort zone was not a place or a person .. it was inside my mind. And even when I went to the worlds end .. it would follow me.

Like a big golden arch.

Since that day, I have lived in 3 other cities. The last of which is where I presently am.

And though there arent as many golden arches, in Delhi, Hyderabad or in Mumbai...there are still the other signs than manifest themselves everyday and they are what end up making change not just bearable and enjoyable but also a matter of adventure and a way of life.

I'm loving it.

Ink and Blood

The ways of the world are funny.

On the news this morning - I read about an Australian writer in Bangkok who has been imprisoned and sentenced to three years of rigirous imprisonment.

His crime was violation of a constitutional dictat that mandates a term of 15 years in prison for anyone who defames or insults the King, the Queen or an heir apparant to the royal throne.

Wow...

The writer in question, an English Teacher in Thailand and wrote a book that he self published 50 copies of, selling only under a dozen copies found himself arrested while boarding an plane for a trip back home.

I dont know the name of his book .. or its contents .. maybe there were severely inflammatory ..maybe not .. but a prison sentence ?

His book was a fictional story based in Thailand.

I am sure one could argue that there are groups in India as well, that would get upset and display far less than rational responses in similar situations .. Theres several cases in question.

When the legal/admnistrative system jumps in and takes an official stand of this nature .. what it does is infact, send a very strong messsage .. to anyone .. from reporters, to people, to bloggers - about the exact and precisely narrow limits of their freedom of speech.

As a writer, and unarguable an often opinionated one at that, its no surprise that I have strong feelings about this.
What bothers me is the shocking irony and double standard that is displayed by political systems and parties in their war against ink.
And yet, unknown to the common man, there are groups that wage a far more serious battle..archiving their stories, demands and details in blood.
Somehow, these latter battles dont motivate the same harsh responses that the former do.
And yet, one cannot ignore the reinforcing relationship between ink and blood.
Often, its the battles that are fought in blood that result in pens being picked up, keyboards being plugged in and words being written. Those words cause or call for more agression and the saga continues.
When small nimble hands arent allowed to hold pencils but are instead pulled out and given more subjectively powerful weapons, its then that wars wage as long as they do.
Last year, I read Friedrich Niche's "Thus Spake Zarathustra" where he elaborated the concept of the Ubermensch and philosophized on how "God is dead". Highly moving, highly though provoking and highly controversial. One book that you just cannot ignore. There are some that say that there is conclusive evidence of Niche's theory in Mein Kampf.
I've read "Thus spake" back and forth and at length and re read it after becoming aware of the theory. And for the life of me, I just could not see how.
For one, the entire book is in poetry format. Which also means that only half of what you understand is what the author wrote, the rest is your interpretation.
And if infact, its your intrepretation that is controversial, whats the poor writer going to do?
Ofcourse I am not suggesting that their should not be governance of facts or libelous remarks in literature. To conclude that based on this post, would be to dilute the argument.
That having been said, I dont have an answer.
Just questions. Many of them.
Ink and Blood.
When did they become mortal enemies ? And how do we make it stop ?

Arbit CP

• Every once in a while a song comes along - that captures the essence of my life at a specific point in time. This one, I heard while walking through a crowded market. And I stood there -transfixed in time. If I was in a Hindi movie, It would have been a great moment for a quick song and dance routine, barefoot and running around in circles while buying bhaji ..This song sets the tone for 2009. Massakalli - from the Delhi 6 soundtrack. That implores me to take charge of my life, my world, my heart. Its vibrant beats and haunting background melody continue to play inside my head all weekend and into monday as well... Thank you AR Rehman
• I didnt know that flossing and god dental hygiene works wonders for the heart...apparantly daily flossing has been shown to reduce risk to heart ailments
• I read an article that talked about how Luxury Spend was estimated to drop by 7% in 2009 ... that concluded that it would take a lot more for some of these brand houses to worry ..LVMH and Cartier had infact been around and survived world wars and many recessions .. Fashion never goes out of style apparantly
• My favorite line from the Delhi 6 title soundtrack is when the singer says "Yeh Sheher nahi ..mehfil hai.." .. I dont think anyone could have described Delhi better .. what a city !! ..From the minarets of Jama Masjid, Seekh kababs at Karims, The sprawling Lodha gardens, magnific Siri Fort, crowded alleys in Chandni Chowk, Fog rising around the Qutub Minar, old friends at Houz Khas, New friends at Janpath, Silver jewllery and bangle sellers at Dilli Haat, to the high rises at Gurgaon...Yeh Dill hai mere yaar .. I was fortunate to spend 6 months in Delhi and they were undoubtedly an unparalleled experience .. Go SME Crew !
• I just started reading Vikas Swarup's Q&A - on which Slumdog Millionaire is based .. 40 fresh pages into the book and I am unable to put it away for a minute .. Cant wait to pick up the story where I left it ..
• I had green tea for the first time .. I wish it was a bright happy green instead of the brownish green brew that it was ...
• I really want to watch 24. It was the big craze when I had just started working in Atlanta and didnt have cable TV then..been debating if the 1000 Rs is a good spend on a DVD pack of Season one ..
• For italian food lovers in the suburbs .. Del Italia (Juhu) and Mia Cuccina(Pali Naka-Bandra) are highly recommended from my end ... I went to both in the past few days and loveeddd the food ..Try the Grilled Vegetable Toretellini at Del I and the Tiramisu at Mia .. you wont regret it !!
• Kung Fu and Hindi Movies make a great combination ...
• Its sad news that I read today about Zoos all over the world downsizing .. as they cant afford to keep up with the Bear and Tiger exhibits due to pressure from decreasing footfalls.. sucks ..
• Okay - Third mention in the same blog post ..but I cant get the Delhi 6 sound track out of my mind !!!! .. Especially .."Rehna Tu" ... great lights out song .. its a treat for those musically inclined ... someone ..please listen to this song ..make a list of all the musical instruments used in it and send it my way .. por favor ..:)

RG

Ayn Rand would have hated B school.

Relative Grading would have really gotten her pretty darn upset I'd think. Because then you arent playing to win against yourself - but against the next guy in line. What can I say .. we love curves - even in highly refined super aggressive educational environments :)

The irony is that while we happily accept our B's and take it in our stride for that year or two, once on the outside, we dont think in terms of RG at all.

On this cloudless night in north bombay, as I sit at my desk comfortable with the clicking sound of keys and watching the lights in the neighbouring building switch off one by one..all part of my saying goodbye to the weekend routine, I cannot help but wonder if life should be graded on a curve.

I've been writing this blog for the past 3 years now. There have been happy days and sad days and days in between. Day's when I've been so optimistic,I could collect all the half empty glasses and fill them up, drink them up, get on top of a table and dance with my silly two feet. And also days, when its been impossible for the rational in me to reason with the troubled writer trapped inside.

Over 6 Billion people in this world and I am pretty sure that if I sit back and grade my life on a curve, I might qualify for one of the happiest most fortunate people I know.

Its a scary humbling once in a blue moon eureka moment thought. So I want to write it down. And mark my calender and planner if I might.

So that on days when hope has flown out of the window and dark clouds are heavy with the tears in my eyes, I will remember and continue to be thankful even when my will bodes otherwise.

Amen.

Movie Review: 27 Dresses

Rating: 2.5/5
Overall: Great Sunday Night chick flick to watch while getting ready for the next week
Light moments: Lots
Need a box of tissues: Not. Manages to be mushy and funny in the right proportions and strikes all the right cords
Overall Theme: Life cant always be planned - There's something to be said about giving the unexpected a chance and you never know when you actually meet someone - what role they might end up playing in your world...
Plot Summary:
Jane is this pretty girl with a good job, great EQ and a smile for everything.
The problem is that it seems like she is the only single woman - everyone she knows ..knows anyways. So much so that she's been a bridesmaid 27 times. Sometimes in two weddings on the same night.
But she goes on with Life and being in Love with her very nice boss...until he actually ends up meeting this other girl and gets engaged to her. What makes things harder is that he is actually a very nice guy - not the average scumbag who loved the attention but wasnt ready for something more. So she continues to work at her place ...just a few cracks in her otherwise sound heart. Meanwhile, a chance encounter at wedding 26 and 27, brings Kevin into her life. Kevin is the exact opposite of her boss...not as hunky ..great warm big personality..very spunky and spontaneous and the exact opposite of anything Jane's ever seen herself with.
27 Dresses is about Jane's struggle to not take herself ever always so seriously and let things be and take a chance every now and then.
Quotes that had me laughing happily:
Kevin: "Love is patient Love is kind ..Love is slowly going out of your mind"
Jane: "I just found out that my favorite love song was about a sandwich"
Casey: "He asks if you want a drink. You smile and say, 'Vodka soda.' If you already have a drink, you down it. Then there's some flirting, some interoffice sex, an accidental pregnancy, a shot gun wedding, and a life of bliss. How many times do we have to go over this? "
Tess: "My idea of a pet is a rock"
50 Cents:
Its not easy getting through life alone and not everyone is lucky enough to find someone they love. And then even if you do ..what are the odds that they will love you right back ?
Meanwhile - Life goes on. Its upto you to get real and give life a chance. I think my killer moment in the movie was when Casey tells Jane " If it was the right thing to do..you'd feel better. Do you feel better?" .. Thats a pretty good compass for anything we treat our hearts to I'd say.
Life's a funny business. We always say about how good it is to have someone show up for us and care about us ..but the thing is .. it feels even better when you feel like you want to be there for someone.. and thats what this movie is about. The simple stuff
Worth a watch: Yup..most definately
Would I watch it again: Yes, on a rainy week night perhaps

2009

Let me tell you a secret.
I've carried it in my heart for a long time now. Well 8 days to be exact.. and we can all agree that its a darn long time. ..
I'm scared to say this. Even more scared to think it. Lest the moment passes and I am left standing in the shadown of this sunny thought.
I have a good feeling about 2009.
There..
I've said it. Cats out of the Bag.
I know that its been the worst start to this year so far. What with the battle raging in the West Bank, More economies in peril and now the Satyam debacle.
I have a good feeling about 2009.
Come on .. we can do this.
No ones expecting a raise this year.
Some of us may lose our jobs.( Hopefully I'll lose some weight too...:)
Whats the point in killing ourselves anyway?
Life is throwing lemons at us ...
Lets make lemonade...or pull out the Tequila I say...
2009. Its only just got here.
I'm determined to give it a chance.
This could be the year when everything changes ? !!
This could be the year when I find out who I really am... what meaning lies in dark lessons I've learnt ... I may travel to unknown places ... or discover a really nice restaurant that I'd never seen on my way back from work ....I may reconnect with more high school buddies ..(even if it is to complain and plot against the sky gods)....I may even learn to cook fancy new dishes ...this could be the year when my favorite movie EVER releases ..I just dont know it yet .....or the year when I find an optimum parking spot easily everyday ... maybe I will make a friend for life ..maybe even today ..maybe I'll discover a foreign movie star who looks just like me .. Get upgraded to Business class on a flight ...or read the most amazing Book ever ! ..maybe I'll have better luck growing a plant this year ..
2009 - The year of the Plant ...
Like I said.
I have a good feeling about 2009.
Its going to surprise us. Because Life often does. When I least expect it to.
Like someone said ... "Its dark enough...lets go see the stars now"

Go Gators !

Two of my closest friends in the world will be at the game.

I am in Bombay - miles away but have only one person on my mind tonight

and his name is Tim Tebow...

Go Gators !!!

The best smile in the world

Every evening ..come 7 pm. I am on my way to the gym give or take a half hour. I live on a crowded street in North Bombay where the air is filled with this magical combination of dust, smoke, cries of vegetable vendors, a sea of people, car horns and street lights.

Bombay's own sunset boulevard...

In my eyes anyways.

I drive down the slope from my apartment complex where it meets this heavily crowded street and make a sharp left to crawl in bumper to bumper traffic once again. Its an art and a science - making that left and then quickly getting into the right lane to make a U turn. It takes me atleast 2 traffic lights before I make it past that stretch and am truly on my way to battle with the calorific demons.

I call this the make or break stretch.

Everyone knows that the pundits say that the key to a life without any cares is to be so busy that you do not have any time to reflect at all. But what can you do - when you are 30, stuck in a moment with the mind of a writer, the heart of a poet, an unrelenting passion for life, loads of hyper-energy and 20 whole minutes spent thinking in traffic at the end of the day. Everyday.

Its this 15 minute stretch that culminates in many posts on this blog.

Its my 15 minutes - to look at my life from the outside. To look at the world as it sees me on the inside. To sit in silence and observe how slow life in the fast lane actually is and appreciate the moon shining over a shimmering metropolis.

Its my 15 minutes to experience the many conflicting feelings that I am now learning to associate with my journey through life.

The silence only lasts till the traffic signal.

The historians once said that Constantinople was the center of the Universe.

Over summer, I concluded that it was actually Khan-e-Kalili market in Cairo.

However I now conclude that though the above two might actually be true in theory, in sheer practice - the centre of the universe is at a much crazier place - The traffic signal outside my house halfway though my clutch-brake love affair.

Anything you want to analyze from a business, philiosphical, cultural, economic, social, gender perespective - you can at this very spot.

In a matter of seconds, the world descends on you and shatters your thoughts like a million fireworks going up in the sky.

There are people selling balloons, woven mogra gajras, daintly packed sugarcane pieces, books on everyone from Kafka to SRK, halogenic yo-yos, toys, car cleaning rags, Indepedence day flags, hankies with the days of the week on them and what not. Masters of trade and Sellers of hope. Theres beggars and car cleaners and omniously in the dark nooks and corners also the people that control this little trade market and elicit a % from each sale or penny collected.

There is nothing quite like being at this particular traffic light that makes me feel energized and yet guilty at the same time. That makes me realise that I've been a witness and silent party to so much amazing activity but in some ways I am still like my car, rooted in the exact same spot..

Yesterday would have been no different had it not been for a chance bicyclist who cut me off causing me to stop and have to wait for a third light.

Mine was the first car in a million others. As the light turned to a slow burning red, I pulled the handbrake and reached out to see if I had any missed calls on my phone.

Yeah, in the 5 minutes since I left home. Like the world was going to collapse if I didnt pick up my phone. I guess I am just conditioned now. A cyber slave who wears pink nailpaint.

And then I saw him.

He was all of 10 years old, barefoot, with a crazy mop of hair that would have put Lenny Kravitz to shame walking from car to car like he owned the world. He reached a Water Tanker that was waiting at the opposite cross section and engaged in a serious round of negotiation with the two guys perched on top of it. Looks like he won ..because they let him open the tap at the bottom of the tanker and he doused his dusty head in the water, drank some more and proceeded to walk from car to car like a model from a TV commercial wet hair and all.

Meanwhile radio mirchi continued taking potshots at everyone from George Bush to John Abraham. The radio fizzled and crackled and I realised that my radio antenna must not be pulled out. So I rolled the window down and adjusted the antenna.

Before I could blink, small brown hands grabbed the rim of my window.

Fear, Shock and then Annoyance. The triple whammy of ugly emotions looked into laughing piercing black 10 year old eyes. With his other hand he started to wipe my windshield with a rag that was so murky, I bristled and at once felt sad about his age, the situation and his arrogance which would only be decsribed as self protective at its worst.

He tried to bargain for me to let him clean my car and I said no.

We repeated this 3 times. Each time, my no being a little weaker than the prior.

His knowing eyes did not miss anything.

Finally, I tried to push the auto button to roll the windows up and he stopped me, just wouldnt move his fingers.

I yelled at him and he withdrew his hands.

I hit the button but he held my window at the last minute.

Finally - on my third try - I rolled the window up .. only to discover that he had lovingly allowed his dirty brown rag to remain stuck between the glass and my car window.

Now he dramatically, called out to his other friends on the street - and showed them how I had tried to take away his rag.

I could only shake my head and grimace.

I rolled my window down and he grabbed my window again.

I started to shout at him and ended up laughing instead.

I finally signalled my defeat by raising my hands up in the air and resting my head against the steering wheel.

And as I looked at him, he tucked his rag around his neck, leaned over my window and burst out into laughter and smiled at me.

And I could not help but grin back.

And for the briefest of minutes - He wasnt a kid on the street and I wasnt a cynical cosmos questioning car driver.

We were just two random people, who shared a warm moment at a cross road in life ..where we were both waiting for Life to turn on the green light.

And he had only tried to make the wait a little more fun that what it would otherwise be.

It was the best smile in the world.

Eyes of the Bluest Sky

Last night as I wound down after another weekend this side of the world, I could not help but think about the movie from Saturday night and the weak remnants of an inspired emotion experienced during the 3 hours of movie watching.

Memories.

What a loaded word.

Good memories - ones that keep us going ..some of them for a lifetime. That we cling on to in times of hope and even more so in times of despair. That keep the fire burning in our sometimes cold hearts.

Bad memories- ones that we would rather forget - now ..the difference is that some of them come from experiences we wish we'd never had .. others from experiences that we do not regret ..just regret the way that those experiences ended or did not end.

What would we be without our memories ?

Same people Different outlook ?

Different people Different outlook ?

I'll quit with my bit map - yeah we know exactly how this goes.

But - coming back to my original question ... what would we do ..if we woke up tomorrow morning ..completely devoid from every experience we've had on the way here .. any meaningful experience anyway ?

Yeah - its not a good idea asking questions like this -when you blog.

I dont know. Maybe we'd be refined versions of ourselves - who were more open, more reckless, more in love, more friendly, trusting. Less cynical, less risk averse.

Maybe we'd suffer the same fools gladly all over again to come back to the same spot.

Heres the thing - I dont know what we hold dearer - the exact details in a memory ...like the place..the time..the person..the words ..or the feelings we experienced when those specific things happened .. joy..happiness..fear..excitement..

And if its the latter - does the devil really lie in the details ?

I guess it comes back to the much debated(on this blog anyways) ..heart and brain question.

What houses all these memories ? .. Ofcourse the brain ..the medically inclined would say .. but what about how these things make us feel ?

Its weird. In B school - they talk about Pavlov's dogs experiment.

I have my own results to share.

Dawn hand washing soap always makes me want to cry. Smell of coffee brewing makes my heart leap with joy. I'm conditioned - to specific experiences that followed or I associated with these two things.

So coming back to my original question ..

If I woke up tommorrow morning - having no memory at all .. and washed my hands with Dawn hand soap .. would I experience sadness ? ..or complete indifference ?

Hmmmm.....

One might infact argue then that forgetting is one of the best virtues.

For then, one is well and truly free of the past and can live without a haunted chamber in his mind and heart.

The verdict is still out.

The fine balance between remembering and forgetting continues to be a tightrope that unfortuantely we will all walk in this life of ours. And it is what we remember - with joy or sorrow that will make us infact richer or poorer in our minds anyways.

What will you remember about today ?

Conversation

Its definately one of those nights.
More questions. No answers.
Glass is half full and the water inside it slowly evaporating in the sultry Bombay heat.
What is fate ? What is faith ? and what does it mean to me on a personal basis ?

If your plan for me is my fate and my ability to believe in the goodness of it - my faith

then how is it possible to believe in you at times when I dont believe in myself ?

Its on days like this when I come to see you.

More so ever on days like today where my belief system is not just sketchy but virtually smashed.

When I show up at the grand altars - to say that I may not agree with you, I may not see reason and I may not even seek solace ..but I will still promise to show up.

Because - There have been many times when I have made poor choices and decisions that have impacted not just my life but also that of others around me adversely. And even during those times - You still showed up.

Its like being in love I think.... Just harder, since I'm here, mortal and rampant in my imperfections.

Nights like this one, I'm glad you planned for me to be more of a writer than a painter.

It would be hard to see what I would do with a brush tonight instead of a keyboard.

I'm 30 years old and my city in Mumbai.

Thank God I have enough.

In a corner

I can have a fling with a really good book
and spend the evening with a glass of wine
But sometimes I need to hear someone
tell me that its going to be fine...

Coffee alone is an acquired taste
that few can appreciate
But plans of coffee with faraway friends
I never hesitate to make

I see a movie that makes me feel alone
and readily break down in tears
But all it takes is the ring of a phone
and familiar voice to bring cheers

Rainfall is fun for the first two hours
But heavy on my heart at night
so I toss and turn and wonder when
there'll be someone else to switch off the light

Its a cruel bet for a modern day poet
who knows exactly what to rhyme
that lost in a corner in a world full of strangers
there someone who is just mine