Hasty greetings

Hello.

You've no idea how hot it is here- it's regularly over 43 degrees Celcius! I have an almost constant headache these days.

I have much to write about, but even more actual work to do, so I'm very sorry, but between my MBA prep, summer internship, and editorial board work (where we have to complete the work of an entire year in 1 month- don't ask...), I am busier than I like (It's 4.30 AM now, and I'm not even close to wrapping up).

Some holidays, these- I'm working more right now, than I do through out the academic year! (Shuddup Jerry)

Bye, and take care.

PS: Q, I haven't forgotten that post about the poverty- society- thing, I will get down to it when I have some more time.

PPS: To anybody from Sri Lanka- Congratulations! Enjoy your moment, reality will strike soon enough :D :P

PPPS: My Maggi noodles have become cold and inedible.

PPPPS: I really miss all of you *is sad*

PPPPPS:

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.

Redolence

I think mint smells of summer.

Not the mint that comes packed in little rectangular paper or cardboard boxes, but the fresh mint leaves you get only in the vegetable bazaars. I found this out a little while ago, and decided to investigate... the answer is that as a child, I was susceptible to heat, and that's not the easiest thing to cope with if you live in Delhi. My mother concocted a syrup concentrate whose main ingredients were raw mangoes and mint.

That's why mint smells like summer.

Long train journeys, with games of snakes and ladders thrown in.

Rain. Rain on dry, parched earth. The fragrance of quenched thirst.

Jasmine, roses, bougainvilleas, marigolds, carnations, freesias, gladioli, hydrangea... there's something about the oppressing heat of Delhi's summers that draws out all the perfumes of any garden, until all the disparate smells form one unique, heady, composite.

Hot curry and steamed Basmathi*.

Spice. Spice from the kitchen. Vegetables cooking in ghee** and masalas***. Chilli powder and cinnamon, thyme and lemons, curry leaves and ginger, cardamom, cloves, garlic.

Old books; new books; books.

Mangoes, grapes, litchis, watermelons, coconuts.

Hide and seek.

Curd and butter milk, heat and leafy shadows, water and flavoured ice.

Nightmares, for I rarely had dreams. Dreams, when I saw them with open eyes.

Incense, stories, laughter.

Crayons and swimming pools.

Neem trees.

This is what my memories smell of.

I hereby tag:

Q who is quite wonderful, and very patient, and who is not nobody.
Saim for whom I have no words, but many smiles.
Myprerogative who never ceases to surprise me. (I do remember your tag, and I'll do it after my exams.)
The whackster who always makes me think, and often makes me smile.
Eärwen who is beautiful, and whose blog I have enjoyed, but not yet commented upon.
Bindhu who always manages to make me smile.
Arun who sometimes frightens me.

I want to know what you remember.

* A kind of rice.
** A kind of clarified butter used heavily in traditional north Indian cooking.
*** Spices.
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Saim gave me an award.

:)

My first :)

I'd like to pass this on to:

Bindhu

Q

Arun

The boys at MATHAWAADA

Myprerogative

The whackster

I'd also like to pass it back to Saim.

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I have exams again. Isn't my life fun? Yay. Not.

Good luck to everyone else out there who will also be joining me in my misery. Do well.

Tags of 25

25 things few people know about me:

1. I love the meaning of my name.
2. I hate the fact that if it's western, it's history, but if it belongs to any other part of the world, or is different, it's mythology. Hypocrites.
3. I'm a solitary being.
4. I'm excessively judgemental.
5. There are moments in time that are etched in my memory. There are other times- weeks and months, sometimes, when I don't remember anything that happened during them.
6. Idealist, escapist, dreamer.
7. I don't really believe in religion... I do believe in a Supreme Power, and common sense.
8. I love colours, books, sports.
9. I think money only has value if you wish to put it to use.
10. When I look back at my life, I'm more likely to remember impulses, feelings, impressions, images, colours, and perceptions, rather than hard facts.
11. I like acoustic instrumental a lot.
12. I want to travel the world and live in the finest hotels on my own money.
13. There are only two compliments ever paid to me that I truly cherish.
14. I want my fairy tale, but I don't think it'll ever happen.
15. I cannot keep a grudge, and I don't hate anybody- I just become completely apathetic towards them.
16. Nature frightens and enthrals me in equal measure.
17. I dislike cats. I love like dogs.
18. I think the new WADA anti- doping laws infringe privacy, and are wrong on some very important levels. I also think they will drive the best sports persons away from their respective fields, and we'll only be left with the not- so- good ones.
19. People who cannot be on time, and proven terrorists, rapists, and paedophiles should be shot dead. Yes, I support capital punishment.
20. I'm intensely private, and to an extent, it applies even to my parents... stay out of my business, unless I specifically invite you into it.
21. I get irate when I'm tired.
22. I don't really believe in inheritance as such... I think whoever earned the asset has the right to it, and not their family/ friends/ class mates/ domestic help/ et cetera.
23. Success is very important.
24. When I'm really concentrating, I cannot really hear or see anything besides what I'm captivated by.
25. The poems :
a. A Psalm of Life by H. W. Longfellow;
b and c. The road not taken, and Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost;
d and e. The Solitary Reaper and Daffodils by William Wordsworth;
f. The Brook by Lord Alfred Tennyson;
g. Ode to the West Wind by PB Shelley;
h. The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by ST Coleridge;
i. Seashore, Mind without fear, and *this other poem which I cannot seem to remember the name of* by Rabindranath Tagore

are the ones I still remember from school.

Bharath, since you tagged me, you obviously get tagged back.
I also hereby tag:

1. Amrita ma'am
2. MyP
3. Jerry
4. Bindhu Unny
5. The Layman
6. Comfortably Numb
7. Q (You can do a 15 things post, since you just did another one like this :) )
8. Human
9. The WhacksteR
10. Arun
11. Realskullzero
12. Foxhound
13. Sam
Well.... I can't expect the boys at MATHAWAADA to have two same/ different posts :D, so handle it like you wish to.

Purple thunder

Fire in my heart;
fire in my soul;
fire when you touch me-
fire in your ardent eyes.

Music in your voice;
music in your love;
music of your sterling trust-
music of my dappled life.

Stars in the sky;
stars in your eyes;
stars for your lambent wit-
stars in my mortal hands.

Whispers in my dreams;
whispers in the light;
whispers of the worlds foretold-
whispers of the ageless Lords.

Notes from nowhere

Hi :)

I'm in the middle of exams. Again. In fact, I just wrote a paper today, and since the muse is not happy, I think I'll just tell you all how my month has been...

Lets see, today's exam- it was interesting... yes, that's the word... a numerical problem we had to do got cancelled because it had no data available to solve it. Ten marks. We couldn't stop smiling.

:)

See what I mean?
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My cousin's wedding is coming up sometime mid December, and I'm desperately trying to lose weight. It makes me laugh that after all the times I've wondered in that holier- than- thou way about why people do things just to fit in, I'm trying to do the exact same thing. Later, I'll probably be banging on about thin models again, but for now, a quick tip or two to look a little bit like them won't go amiss.

So what's with the hypocrisy, you wonder? As do I, actually, not because I don't know what the problem is, but because I know exactly what it is. You see, it would be nice to not be ignored at this particular function. I've noticed that with some of my family, the attitude changes with how socially- acceptable you are, including amongst other factors, your dress size. Last time there was a get together with this part of my family, I was actually acknowledged- can you believe it- and the singular comment from most people who wouldn't otherwise have bothered was something along the lines of how fit I was looking... So, yes, I'd quite like to be acceptable again, thank you.
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The weather in Delhi's become even more annoying than usual these days. Earlier, we just got baked for eight months and frozen for two. Now we're served toasted in the day time, and chilled through the late evenings and nights. It's probably the reason for the bizarre cases of flu in the city, anyway- it happens to be a strain that just won't get cured. Or maybe we just keep relapsing without first getting fixed.
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I registered as a voter a while back, but have still not received my electoral card... wonder when it'll finally turn up, if at all.

Oh, and on the mention of politics, I saw a poster on the college notice board today put up by the Delhi University Teachers Association (DUTA) asking the teachers to join in a demonstration to protest against the 'undemocratic' attempt of the vice chancellor to introduce the semester system into under graduation programs. Undemocratic my ass. They're just resentful that they'll now have to actually do some work and be held accountable, the deceitful, double dealing old frauds.
____________________

My Marketing Research teacher told me today that she'd like to get our project published.

:) :) :)
...................................................

This has got to be the most disjointed piece I've ever written.
Oh, yes,
Thank you for putting up with me.

Breathe- murmurs of my existence

My life is a path in a forest, where dabs of dappled sunlight dance with leafy shades, and so many cross tracks criss- crossing along... an arbitrary turn anywhere, and I'd be a completely different person today. I have lived many lives- daughter, sister, friend, guide, and somehow, in all of them, it is not what they mean- it only matters how they feel. So many questions, and no one to answer them, yet I know- one day, it'll all be gone.

In the stream of consciousness that gushes through the valley of thought, eons are often made up of moments- yet there are some moments of limpid incandescence that last for eternities together.

What is family, anyway? What are four walls? Family is where you find it, and a house protects the dreamer. Who do I see in everyone else? Is it a reflection or an aspiration? You only see the glory, never the bloodlust. Nobody knows what lies in the shadows of my heart. Have you even noticed the difference between faith and belief? Where does loyalty spring from, and when does it finally rest? Why? If I were a colour, which would I be? Nobody knows what walls could tell us, if only they would speak.

Every quest has its casualties, yet unbelievably fantastic things can happen even after the boots have been worn. A river runs an age and a long way, and dreams do come true- they're just not always dressed as we want them to be.

The imprint of my journeys on the sands of sempiternity; I look behind me, and already they're fading.

The aria of my psyche; listen to it now- soon, it will be silenced forever.

Boxes full of me

I have noticed that most people like to put me in a box. The boxes may be labelled any (but never all) of the following:

1. Quiet
2. Creative
3. Restrained
4. Book worm
5. Loud
6. Mad/ crazy
7. Bizarre
8. Fun
9. Studious
10. Awkward/ clumsy

I just read an article by Shobha Narayan, and she was talking about her character, or lack thereof...
Basically, she related an incident where she got into a screaming fit with her brother, and her mother told her that only those people who take the 'higher road' (read: offer the other cheek) in a fight have character.

This is pigeonholing. The columnist's mum has straitjacketed all the world's character into a tiny little space, and the poor thing cannot even protest. I ask you, is this fair?

I have screaming fits too, and they're also aimed at my brother. He's the only one who can motivate me into shrieking utter rubbish, and throwing things at him. Ms. Narayan said she resisted throwing a plate at her brother because it was made of stainless steel, and would therefore not shatter into a million pieces. I would have thrown the steel plate. I would probably have thrown a hammer at my brother, if one were available, and if I could have managed to lift it. When I get furious enough, it's better if he just backs up against a wall, cowering under whatever pathetic attempt at armour he has have managed to conjure up. I will throw things, and I have very good aim.

With Close friends, I tend to be more patient. I don't really know why, but yeah, that's how it is. Perhaps because it's a rather rare occurrence that I lose my cool with these blessed individuals anyway- I think it has a lot to do with how they know every damn thing about me, that if they ever did stoop down to my level, they would have lots of material for blackmail. They also know how to calm me down. Others (acquaintances/ people I don't know/ other random people)? They're really not important enough for me to loose my breath over. You screwed up. You can go to hell. Or not. Just don't bother me again for the next week or so.

When I was in seventh grade, I got so irate that I blacked out. This happened twice. I was... thirteen.

So, yeah. I have anger issues.

Does that mean I'm lacking in character?

I crave solitude, stillness.

I love those long peaceful walks when it's warm and sunny but not scorching hot, and the trees all seem to have a story to tell, if only I could just learn their language.

The equanimity of a thunderstorm.

I like to think, and I have an over zealous imagination.

I love reading. Books are my secret hideout. The place I run to, and I believe the only place I will ever truly find complete acceptance. I also love the whole super- hero- going- on- a- quest- to- save- the- world thing. Or even the not- so- super- hero- going- on- a- quest- to- save- the- world thing. Although, those are not the only kinds I enjoy.

I like- no, I LOVE shopping. I don't mind eating either, though it is kind of repetitive.

I'm a responsible citizen- I registered myself as a voter. I don't throw stuff on the streets. I reported the irresponsible security arrangements at one of the Metro stations.

I like my planet, too. I know what the Kyoto Protocol is, and I try to diminish my carbon footprint.

I tend to be critical. Judgemental. I'm also one of the most compassionate people I know.

I can NEVER concentrate unless my exam is the next day.

I like making friends, and I like keeping them, but I also know when it's over- and I can let go.

I love colours. Really. I also think that everyone should know something about foreign relations, and most things about the politics of their country.

I'm a hopeless romantic, and I do believe in love. I think it's real- though just because love is real, doesn’t mean that it is common. It is a rare phenomenon, something that happens to a handful of lucky people who deserve it. I just don't believe I am one of those people.

I think Marriage is a bit of a sham. I feel it is defunct. If the reason is happiness, it doesn't serve the purpose anymore. If the reason is to procreate, it never really did serve the purpose- after all, matrimony is hardly the reason behind kids. The reason, to me, seems to be biology.

I like blogging too, and I enjoy facebook. I like talking.

I love to find out. Ask questions, you know. At school I was often called a 'question bank'.

Really, there are a thousand other things I do. A million different reasons I am. How can these people just put me into one of their mental 'boxes'. That's not what I am- that not all I am.

So... I'd kind of rather lag behind a bit on the character aspect, than miss out on all this.

Oh, and I just found out today, while typing this out- the Blogger spell check does not know how to spell 'doesn't'

Ha!

Flushed

I love colours. It’s a fact. All in all, they’re generally the single largest factor affecting most decisions I take in life.

I don’t know when I woke up to these wonderful pigments, or feelings, or whatever they are, but I think my definition of hell would be a life without colour.

Point in case is, I don’t even know how to define them. I just know how they make me feel- like drinking air, or walking on clouds, or maybe just becoming a cloud bouncing along somewhere up there. I think they’re the miracles of nature most people are too busy to notice.

“For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green”

- Bilbo Baggins

And Bilbo, with all his travels, adventures and experience wasn’t wrong either. For too many people in this world colours are just red, white, blue, yellow, black, etc. At most they can graduate to dark and light green, blue and brown.

Have you ever noticed sparkling gray eyes like Anne’s in the classics by L. M. Montgomery? They make me think of stars… And yet, gray is a colour most often used to describe any bleak aspect.
How can the same colour be associated with two such opposing views?

Fire- no painter or photographer can ever capture its true beauty. Is it yellow and orange, or orange and red, or an amalgamation of all these colours forming something the human mind can’t ever hope to grasp?
Oh, by the way, when fire grows very hot it’s blue in colour…

A new born leaf is reddish- green, as it matures, it goes from being mostly- green to properly- green to finally becoming gold as it falls from its tree.

The azure of a clear spring morning changes to the velvety indigo of midnight, and two flowers on the same rose bush will always be a different shade of pink.

No poet will EVER be able to colour the sea- for which bit shall she do?
The shimmering haze of sunlight on the water, the clear blue of the shallow seas on white sand, the magical blue- green of the open waters, the sunset reflected on it in the evenings or it’s inky blackness at night?

For just 1 day on your high- definition flatrons try and notice the black and yellow blur of a cheetah chasing prey, enjoy the blue of a calm river turn suddenly to frothy white as it bashes up rocks, or just watch a butterfly do its thing…

I promise you, you’ll also start noticing all the different greens.