Of trash & moving

I can't believe how callous some people can be. With a LOT of effort, I was clearing up the last of the trash in the house before moving to another place (this is my 3rd house in 2009, by the way). I had dumped all of the heavy stuff at my doorway, so that I could drag it all to the chute.

When I was done with the house, I stepped out to find that somebody had happily clubbed their trash with mine! (oh, the joys of communal living…). I was furious…what did they expect, that I lug their trash as well?? Couldn’t they do it themselves?? All these question-rounds later, I still threw all the trash – theirs and mine. I couldn’t bear to have it lying around. I lugged all of it, making 4 rounds up and down (yes…I’m a chronic garbage collector). I came back thinking…would I ever do that? I somehow knew I wouldn’t…

It may be a small thing, but still…to me, it shows a lack of sensitivity and respect. Oh well...

As an aside, I was quite proud of myself during the 3rd exodus. Daddy’s li’l girl who couldn’t cross the street without holding his hand (even till high school!) packed all her stuff, hired a couple of pathans for the moving and set up the new place – all by myself. The 1st 2 times I had friends who helped me out while I stood like a helpless puppy and followed orders. This time around, I kept fretting how I would do it with my friends being away. But lo & behold! The good Lord shows you that you are capable of much more than you know and gives you the strength to do it. And I suddenly felt thankful for those years that I’ve spent away from the protected and loving environs of my home – or else I would have remained the same delicate, fragile person bursting into tears at the slightest challenge.
I’ve never worked this hard in my life, made so many decisions, or carried so much (esp. in 40 degree heat!) and the satisfaction was immense. I looked like a burnt pygmy at the end of it all, but it was worth it.

I adore my new, cozy li’l home and I have this smug smile on my face. There! I did it dad!

Rest in Peace, MJ...hopefully.

I hope we let you live in your death. I hope we let you be the child you've always wanted to be. I hope we stop dissecting your life. I hope we realize how music mourns your loss. I hope, finally we let you rest in peace.

Why so serious?

I'm bored. I'm so bored, it's unbelievable. I don't remember ever being so bored in my life. I find a seriousness creeping in, a lethargy, a 'I-don't-care-what-happens' settling in like a curling-up cat. I don't want to feel like this, but I'm too bored to even try. I find people, places uninteresting...I find my mind drifting when someone's talking. I find talk boring...it's the usual, the mundane. All I want to do is snuggle up in bed with a good book and doze off peacefully, somewhere in between it's pages.

People drive me nuts and I can't understand why humans love to complicate their lives. I'm bored of their constant whining, of perceived threats, of advices doled out, of illogical reasonings. I'm bored that there's nobody here who likes to share long silences with me...and not feel the need to puncture every silence with a word.

I'm bored that I'm bored.

I'm bored that my job doesn't excite me anymore. That it's become just another means to make money. I'm bored to the depths of my being.

And now I'm too bored to write.

I miss...

Unending coffee table conversations.
Mindless laughter, uncontrollable giggles.

Jumping fences.
Familiar faces.

The company of good human beings who occasionally bitch :)

But tomorrow...

“But tomorrow, dawn will come the way I picture her,
barefoot and disheveled, standing outside my window
in one of the fragile cotton dresses of the poor.
She will look in at me with her thin arms extended,
offering a handful of birdsong and a small cup of light.”

- William Collins

Roads on water

"To translate the wind by the water it sculpts in passing"

I'm sitting in my office on the 18th floor, facing the largest canvas of Burj Al Arab with the sea all around it....sipping tea and spinning my chair absent-mindedly. The water around the Burj (a playground for the rich & famous) is alive again. Power boats and yachts skim the waters rending them in two. But now, I stop my spinning. The water where the sea traffic skimmed through is sculpted in the shape of a path. It looks like a perfect road in the sea. And it stays there for a really long time, as if the water was not liquid, but something solid. All around, the placid blue doesn't stir. There is a scientific explanation, I know :) But I can't stop feeling mesmerized.

It's so beautiful...i can see myself walking on it. Mmmmm....

Older, none the wiser

31. There, I've said it. *Breathe* *inhale* *exhale* *don't choke* I turned 31 last month. *breathe out*

Till I was teetering on 30, I convinced myself I hadn't tripped over the threshold yet and died. Basically, I had convinced myself (and everybody else, for that matter) that I was 29. Still. Yet.

And now 31. It means the threshold has been passed. The first foot set in. Not unlike the bride in hindi soaps that upturns a tin can of rice...and looks up to scowling faces of in-laws and a few outlaws. And no..I'm no fan of the 'new-age' Indian soaps. But I feel all the insecurities, depressions and countless 'phases' scowling down on me.

The question writ large on everybody's chastising, patronising countenance??
"30 and not married yet?" "30 and no man yet?" "30 and not married yet?" "30 and no man yet?"

Essentially the same thing. That brings me to the question “Is it such a horrible, horrible thing to be sans man while you cross that 30's threshold?”

To a certain extent, yes. To a large extent, no.

I do admit to pangs of loneliness and hopelessly waiting for ‘true’ love. I also admit to being much happier, saner while single.

I am deeply grateful to those men who entered my life at the right time and left at the right time. Grateful, despite everything for having given me all the love, all the attention and all the care. But grateful, most of all for letting me realize how important I am to me. And how much I need to hold on to my identity, thoughts, feelings…without being manipulated into changing my patterns.

At 31, what have I learned really? A lot…and not so much. Quite a bit and nothing at all.

What I’ve learnt is not to trade in ‘myself’ for anything in the world. To love and give without expecting much. To be content with myself and not so content at the same time…so that I’m always at competition with myself. I’ve learnt to cherish the few, long relationships-friendships and not take them for granted. I’ve learnt how to unlearn and start all over. Also learnt that even the most self-assured person in the world needs a kind word, a loving smile. Learnt to let bygones be bygones. Not to let regrets hang over my shoulders in a thick cloud. Learnt also not to judge too quickly.

What I’ve not learnt is to budget.

31…it’s got to be a hazardous journey from here on. Fun part is, I’ve got myself for company :)