Days of Future Past

A few weeks ago the girls and me watched the new X-men movie. Am not a die hard fan of X-men but Hugh Jackman in 3D wasn't something I wanted to miss. While I ended up enjoying the movie, what really caught my fancy was Shadowcat's super power. She uses her superpower to send (the hot) Wolverine back into the past to change history. This movie coupled with my secret fascination for time travel got me me thinking. What if I could travel back ten years and have a chat with the 22 year old me., what would I tell myself? And that inspired this list.

Experiment!

My greatest regret has been not living in more cities and trying new jobs. Basically sticking to the norms.I stuck to my comfort zone for too long. Albeit late, I broke that mold and believe it was the best decision ever. 

Be stupid

Most people end up being reckless in their 20s and sober up in their 30s. I on the other hand have been Benjamin Buttonesque and done the opposite. I would definitely tell my younger self that its absolutely OK to let go and do stupid things. Sign up for that dance class, pitch your big idea to your boss, make the first move on that boy. It's alright if it ends up being a mammoth failure. Having no regrets is definitely way better than momentarily looking like an idiot.

Life is never as bad as it seems.

This is probably the most difficult realization for me to accept. There have been days when I firmly believed I was in the worst phase of my life, and then a curve ball hits me out of nowhere . And then I regret not appreciating what I had. It took me a while to realize that life can have a terribly wry sense of humour. And it's easy to miss out on the good things when things are going bad. But sometimes things need to come crashing down for you to build something better. 


While it would be awesome if life can a Ctrl Z button, I guess some things are meant to be. We live  we learn. But here's hoping ten years down the line, I can look back at now and tell myself I did alright.

Let’s talk friendship.

One afternoon at the museum, a friend asked me , “so how many of your school friends are you in touch with? “. I responded with some uncomfortable silence.  Up until that moment it didn't real strike me that I was barely in touch. With anyone from my school days.  Now don’t get judgemental Jude on me. I am really good at keeping in touch. OK much better than the average.  But time and distance sometimes prove to be challenges.

While all my school friends were married and most had stayed behind in my hometown.. I found it difficult to stay in touch with them. But I think the most  is that I probably would not know what to say to them now.

I am a very very different person now from what I was some years ago. Moving cities, growing older and life in general has made me a different person. And I believe as you change.. so do the kind of friends you make. So this got me thinking would be I friends with half the people I know… had I met them at a different time of my life?

And I assume this would be apply for everyone. Something tells me I would have a lot less friends if I had to start the exercise now. A tad bit depressing that. Think I will drown my sorrows by doing a Mad Men marathon. Ta.

Between August and November

Between August and November I have

Shifted cities and realized a city is its people.
Gotten back to working after a year's break and realized its not too bad.
Finished my first level of French and suprised myself by truly enjoying studying.
Missed Madras. Missed Colombo. Missed Home.
Been glad that I will still continue to talk to some people no matter what.
Repeated mistakes.
Had more midnight coffees than I have ever had.
Finally moved to an apartment of my own.
Pondered deeply if the bus 331A really does exist.
Been super grateful that no matter where you are, some friends are just a gchat buzz away.

500 days of summer

Colombo is underwater. We are sitting on the verandah of my grandparents house and watching the pool of water which until a few days ago was our lawn. My sister is cursing the rains which has deprived her of a visit to the mall. My aunt is cursing some cousin who has apparently betrayed her trust.

I hear the baker on his tricycle with his trade mark tring tring come down the street. Rain or shine, the "bread man" is at our doorstep every afternoon. And every afternoon my aunt buys me a sticky chocolate doughnut. She feels its her duty to carry one what my grandmother used to do. I have no heart to tell her that i actually hate the doughnut. As a child the only reason i insisted on those chocolaty buns was to squash it between my fingers till chocolate oozed all over. A messy ritual that annoyed my mother to no end.

My aunt is ranting about the evil cousin, but i am more focussed on trying to figure out what those little silver balls on doughnuts are called. I know i am going to be asked for an opinion so I start paying attention to the rants. My aunt exclaims in her exasperated fashion that just when you think you know someone they spring a surprise on you. I pause midway through my chocolate bun examination as I realize this is exactly what I had been thinking about a few days ago. Except mine was on a slightly more positive note. Have you ever had a friend who you sort of knew on a "hello how is the weather" basis. And never really ventured beyond that. But one fine day you really get to talk to this person and voila you actually have a wonderful conversation. You realize this friend is like that box on your loft - full of surprises and you wonder why you never saw that before. This enlightenment may be because your finally taking time out or may be its just Facebook. What ever it is, I'm raising my doughnut to the little surprises in life.
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Reason number 324 why I am grateful for my small town existence

I have lived in a small town for two thirds of my life. I confess, my town has just one traffic signal which was inaugurated with much pomp. And yes when I first came to Madras as a child I thought the Anna fly over was like the coolest thing ever. This has often been a source of amusement for my city bred friends. (yes yes you know who you are)

But I wont complain much staying in the middle of the spectrum between the urban life and rustic village life isn't too bad. Last week actually gave me a chance to thank my stars for my small town roots. We had to attend my driver's daughter's engagement at a nearby village. So off we went on a hot Sunday afternoon.

Once the groom side arrived, all the men of both families sat around in a circle with a basket of salt in the center. While the entire village stood in the sidelines. I was truly fascinated by now. The "nattamai" (village head) then announced that they could start. I thought this was where the engagement ceremony begins. But no I was wrong, here was apparently the most important part of the day. The proceedings started with a random lady from the crowd shouting "so how much dowry are you giving your daughter?".Apparently directed at the bride's father. Random aunt's friend added" speak loudly we all want to hear". My fascination gave way to horror when I realized, the brides side was expected to answer in detail to all the questions thrown at them. My poor driver answered patiently on how much gold and cash he was going to give.

Finally a lady from the groom's side stood up (Who in my humble opinion should audition for Ekta kapoor's monster mom in law teledramas) She thundered "what only so much? this is disrespectful" . The bride's side squirmed and continued their negotiation. Eventually they came to a consensus that they would give the groom a gazillion grams gold chain. Ladies, how many of you out there would marry a man who not only demands but also wears something like that?OK we digress. As ridiculous as it looked, I really felt bad for bride's family.

Thankfully the negotiation drew to a close and the rest of the ceremony went on less melodramatically. As we drove back, I realized how clean the entire village was and how much relatively cooler it was. Mainly thanks to the rows of Neem trees. But still I am grateful for my small town existence. Thank you.

Only in Bangalore

Would you see men, women and farm animals stand at a signal and wonder when the traffic in this city will improve.

Better super late than never

I know I am slightly late with this post, but then somebody said its always better late than never. So keeping to tradition, here is what 2009 was to me

People: Made new friends, lost a couple of old ones to time and distance. Most importantly I learned that you can never know anyone too well.

Places: Though the travel gods amused themselves by messing up a few of my plans, I did good. Visited three beautiful countries and realized travel can teach you so much. Like Twain said " Travel is hazardous for narrow mindedness". Or something like that.

Beginnings and ends: I spent a good deal of time in hospitals and came to respect doctors and nurses a whole lot more. And also fear a few. The time spent here made me realize that titling your blog Carpe Diem didn't cut it. You really have to seize the moment or your going to really sorry. It was a much needed wake up call. As a result I shocked a lot of people including myself by giving up my job and deciding to experiment on my own.

28: I am for the first time in my life actually feeling my age. Still deciding if that is a good thing or not. I had my moments when life felt like the rubic cube. But of late I have come to realize that you dont have get over some heart breaks and losses. Learning to live with it is good enough.

So that was my rather mixed year. 2010 here I come!

The boy who could braid

Waiting for my luggage at the Colombo airport, I happened to glance at the billboard for a brand of men's suits. The brand ambassador a stocky young men dressed entirely in black shot you a lopsided smile. Apparently he was the island's leading talk show host- claimed the ad. I wouldn't have given the picture a second glance, if the name at the bottom hadn't caught my eye. I did a double take to ensure I read the name right. " This couldn't possibly be D" was my first reaction. But when I looked at the picture closely I could see faint traces of a boy I once knew.

I met D years ago during one of my many summer trips to Colombo. My aunt was in charge of her school's participation in a dramatics contest. Managing a bunch of 15 year boys was not easy and I used to tag along to play helper. D stood out among the noisy and boisterous lot. Overweight and incredibly shy , he was an easy target for the class bullies. The fact that he had to walk around in a skirt for his role never helped his case. While the rest of the boys played cricket during the breaks, D always sat in a corner braiding. Yes braiding. He would braid pieces of thread, wigs from the costume cupboard and even tussles on the table cloth. They were the most beautiful braids I have seen till date.

When curiosity got the better of me I asked where he learned to braid so well. After what seemed like an eternity of silence. He told his story.D's dad was a doctor in the war struck north. When he was seven their town became an unwilling battlefield. With the army on side and terrorists on the other, the town was completely cut off from the rest of the island.D's dad a doctor used to walk around the town in the nights administering his patients. Unfortunately for him, he caught an infection and died.

With the battle still raging, his mother had to wait for things to calm down to give his father a proper burial. while they sat in the ghost house waiting, his mother started to braid and un-braid her hair in a monotonous trance. Little D who sat by her watching, followed suit on a tussled cloth. Deeply scarred by those events, his braiding habit grew to be his security blanket.

His response was not what I expected. I felt terribly guilty for having dug up his past. Those days being pre-facebook times, I lost touch with him over time.



Staring at that billboard at the airport, the image of D in mind was so different.
I could still picture him as the shy boy who glared at his classmate nemesis above his glasses rather than through and stuttered- " I'm going to be big some day and you are going to be sorry". And he kept his word.

Walking out of the airport that day, it gave me a happy high to know that the stars were shining down on my old fried.

Colombo Calling

Welcome to the island of Sri Lanka " drones the air hostess in her most bored tone. But I am feeling far from bored. I am feeling too many things actually. Excited about returning to my city of birth after years. Guilty that I am taking time off. Anxious - Thirteen visits to Sri Lanka and first time with no war looming overhead. Relieved that I am far away from the daily shuttle between office and hospital. But most of all happy that I will be seeing friends and family that I have missed dearly

Thirteen days is too short a time frame to visit the city you love but its also a rather long time for a corporate slave. More posts from the Emerald Isle to follow

Namma Madras

Walks on bessy beach, pongal from murugan idli kadai, plays at the museum theatre, the music festival, a drive on the ECR, Sunday mornings at woodlands, swindling auto drivers, playing wii at blur, Sathyam cinemas, coffee at amethyst, brunch at the Eco cafe, The chocolate laboratary,the bangle shops outside the mylapore temple.


There are many reasons why i love this city..and I just completed ten years in the city!

The king is dead

Whacko Jacko, The king of pop or just plain Mikey. Call him what you want, but he truly was a legend.

Love actually

A friend of mine once told me that love is actually all around you. You just have to open your eyes. The last weekend showed me that sometimes you dont have even have to open your eyes. Its hit you in your face.

On Friday a friend of mine finally found true love and celebrated it with an engagement. Saturday and sunday was spent on a cheer up mission with a friend who is caught on the wrong side of love. A finally the grand finale to the long weekend was a play at Ranga Shankara (which by the way is an awesome place). And the play was (suprise suprise !) - a tragic love story! Love IS all around you!

Lost and never found

These battle scars are here to stay
No sunshine after the rain
No happiness after the pain
I have lost the war and the battle in a day