Gypsy Dreams

First you hurt a lot, but that passed. Then you were sore spot, causing me flashes of lightning pain as I accidentally brushed over you.

You were then my battle scar, from life. Now as you fade away quietly, I am glad you are healed, but I also think I am going to miss you.

Letting go of a scar isn’t supposed to be sad?

Find me a memory…

As I drive down from the airport and look at the mountains I smile.

That’s all. They make me smile. Thank you.

Happy New Year Everyone!

Do you have a plan? Not so much.

You know how you don’t have a plan? How you fake it when people ask you what you want to do in 5 years. You say things like, I want to go to France. You don’t do anything about it, it just lies there; this thought that maybe someday France.

And then it happens. This door, that you did not know existed, just pops up out of nowhere. And now you say, I have to learn French.

Song: Piano Man- Billy Joel.
Sang this at the tavernacle last Thursday. Nice nice!

Amusings

Twenty years later.

I am glad I spelled hippopotamus right that summer day.

A not so manic monday

Sanity returns, thank God!

I am…

Getting my ass kicked at school and work.

Need some ZEN now!!! Please. I am begging here.

On cooking

If it has chicken and green beans, I’ll eat it.

On books

If it doesn’t say anything stupid in the first 20 pages, I’ll read it.

On booze

If it's free…

Moments

I type because I wish to remember you. Just how perfect you felt and how carefree and right life felt.

The first day of fall, the winter clothes are not out yet and it's chilly. As I walk towards my office I realize how calm I feel. How balanced everything is.

How great my life is and there it is. My moment.

I feel good!

Adios !

So now we know what side you are on. Actually the fact that there will be sides in this issue was news to me, but it's all good.
:-)

For the English speaking readers:
Update:
Has been a busy last couple of days. Am single again, so thats new and scary and new.

Have a cat called Sweet Tea in my house. He is so not sweet.

Have done everything I was supposed to do before I could get the tattoo, but it doesn't seem like such a great idea now.

School starts in a couple of days, so hurrampph!!!

Oh the tragedy of being responsible.

Want	Will get
Recliner New shoes Extended cable Maroon 5 tickets Netfix extended membership LA Galaxy tickets	New windshield for the car Car Insurance Groceries Electricity Bill Public Library LA Galaxy tickets *giggle*

A girl's got to do, what a girl's got to do.

Random

I wake up with a sinking feeling that my brain is faster when I am asleep than when I am awake.

Pray

Sometimes I pray because I know I don’t deserve everything that he has given me.

The commute

I am not really sure what I want to do with this blog. When I feel like doing something about its present state of abandonment, I am reminded of the fact that come December I will lose all my old entries from blog-city. This usually propels me to either start posting the old blog-city posts here (Sorry for not answering your comment Shirin), or dampens my mood.

In any case, here I am again.

There is a new trick in town, one more step in the effort to avoid all types of acknowledgment of other forms of life around us. First there was the newspaper, pretend you are reading the news paper and hope no one will smile or talk to you. Then the cell phone, call your voicemail and listen to your old messages. The iPod, plug those speakers in and you don’t have to listen to the bus driver greeting you on the bus, or even acknowledge him. Add a pair of dark glasses and you are set for life baby. This eliminates all possibilities. So you have now eliminated even the slight chance that you may meet someone’s eye on the road and have to smile at them.

I loved my iPod, till the point that it started to make me deaf. But I am not a big fan of listening to the iPod when I am walking around, on the bus, or jogging. I like to hear background noises, when I am jogging or walking I like to hear the birds. Also I like greeting people and hearing what they say.

Why are people so against smiling at or greeting a stranger that they have to go to these extremes?

I guess my travel time is really small, if I needed to travel for an hour every day I would have these on too. I doubt it.

Scene Three- Music

The drummer in her head had been joined by a cymbal player and a very enthusiastic trumpeter.

Breaking-up Etiquettes

Due to the joyless note that has become the background score of my life (I have no reason for this, most people I know would be happy with the situation I find myself in). So continuing on that note, this is the kind of coffee table conversation I indulge in.

Breaking-up etiquettes:

To you my friends whose identity in these pages is veiled in fictional disguise it is but fitting that I dedicate this post.

What is the right time to break up?

Should you break up with the person when you know he/she has a busy time coming up in their life, so they will have to focus on that and get over you fast?

· Can backfire as said person may screw up the important task.

Should you break up when he/she is with friends and family and has his/her support system around (who can gather around and tear you apart and help said person get over you).

· Or will this cause the happy occasion to turn into a mourning festival?

Should you break up as soon as you can? Or should you wait it out and hope the other person breaks up with you first?

Should you be yourself and have faith in the fact that no one can be with you for such a long time and wait for them to break up with you?

Should you tell said person about other friend who would totally dig them?

Is it your responsibility as the instigator of the break up to listen to the theatrics quietly, if said person feels inclined to resort to such?

Alive

She draws her knees together and rests her head on them; she wipes her tears imagining him doing it. She can almost hear him whispering to her that she was safe now, that he loved her. He wasn’t real, but she could almost felt it. She knew it was stupid, but if her mind could play this trick to make her feel better, she would play along. Sometimes he took the shape of her latest crush, sometimes a character from a story. He has to be the reason I am somewhat sane*. I wish I could make him come alive.

I find it difficult to post, because somehow too many people I know (and don’t like) come here. I will stop writing here, because it’s becoming a chore editing the entries for fear of giving too much away. I wish they would go away. What to do?

Alan Jackson- Remember When

*-( sane? heheh)

Living the Deam

I always knew that I would love living alone. And now that I have for quite a while now, my mother knows it too. It scares her, I should scare me too I guess.

I love being able to hear my thoughts, I love being able to listen to music when I want to. Being able to breathe deeply, to read without interruptions, to look at the stars, to think. To live without hearing someone else’s voice, without sharing my space with someone else. I can’t stand to have someone around me for a long time. It’s not like I do bizzare stuff while I am alone (like walk around naked; case in point P) I do mundane things, like work on the computer, read a book. And when I am doing these boring things in my room and you do happen to walk by, even quietly; I will consider it an intrusion. I have seen that if I don’t get to spend a significant amount of time alone, I turn into a raging ogre in a few days. No kidding. And that should scare me. It doesn’t. What scares me are people who can’t stand to be alone.

The hippopotamus in me.

We go a long way back. Hippopotamuses and me.

My parents were nurturing doubts about my mental growth when at age 4 the only story I wanted to hear was the one my dad had made up. This was also the time I wanted to be a boy. The story was called The Baby Hippopotamus.

There was once a baby hippopotamus, he was very naughty. He did not want to take a bath, but his mother would not listen to him. She washed him, and cleaned him. She made him wear nice clothes and she put powder behind his ears. And she put cream on his face. She combed his hair. She made him wear nice shoes. She told him to play carefully and not get dirty.*impish smile on little girl's face, yeah right*

The hippopotamus went to play out. He saw a puddle.*sparkle in little girl's eyes* The puddle was very dirty. The hippopotamus jumped into the puddle.*SPLASH* *HURRAY*

His mother would see him, scold him and clean him again.He would go and jump into the puddle again. This would go on and on and on, till I would go to sleep, a contented smile on my face. I got over the wanting-to-be-a-boy syndrome, but I still jump into puddles.

So when I read this story, it’s understandable that I feel warm in my tummy.

The Box

When she first got it, she wasn’t very happy. It fact, she did not quite understand her mother's vehement request that she keep the box.

It was a jewel box, a small box resembling a dressing table; with three drawers. You could hold it comfortably in the palm of your hand. Inside the box, within each drawer, were pieces of jewelery. Earrings, necklaces, bracelets made of glass, stones and metal; the treasure of a 9 year old girl. Her sister. Every time she opened the box and saw the pieces of jewelery, which were kept thoughtfully on a bed of cotton, her heart broke a little. She could see her sister’s small hands as she played with the jewelery. She could imagine her sister’s impish smile as she posed in front of the mirror and twirled. She could feel the anger and the pain growing in her heart as she remembered that her sister was not with them anymore. She could feel the guilt growing inside her as she told herself that she had no right to this box, no right to this pain; as she told herself that others were being so brave. She hid the box.

Two years later.

The beautiful young woman sits at the coffee house waiting for her friends. A soft smile lights her face as she strokes and kisses her bracelet. It still hurts. That, she knows will never go away. She is trying to get over the guilt she feels about hurting so, when she knows other people hurt more. She goes home to open the box again. She sheds a few tears but these are happy tears, born out of the knowledge that she was blessed to have once known an angel.

Feeling guilty about not calling her aunt enough, she dials her number.

music: Wake me up when september ends ( Greenday)

Scene Two-Screwed*

Him:“So, what are you going to do now?”

Her: “Laughing like a madman is a possibility. Screaming like a banshee is another"


*Screwed- completely mishandle or mismanage a situation.Completely.

se7ev

Se7en-The Tag, courtsey of Rajesh. Thank you.

Seven things that I plan to do:
Adopt a child
Own a house
Go to Rome
Do a course on psychology
Go deep sea diving
Get a tattoo
Travel on the Palace on Wheels, Venice Simplon-Orient-Express and The Blue Train.

Seven things I can do:

Smile

Eat a full cake.

Love

Take charge, when things go wrong.

Hide what I am feeling.

Rationalize.

Hope.

Seven things I can't do:

Not stand out.
Forget.
Make the first move.
Remain calm when being photographed.
Decide exactly what I want in life.
Have conversations with puny-little-arrogant-stupid-ignorant-selfish-pseudo-confident people.
Be serious.

Seven things I say most often:

(I am more of a sound-person (if that’s a word) I don’t say words, I make appropriate sounds.)

Hmmmmm
Accha ( Alright)
You think so? ( when I don’t think so)
Seriously * while I am trying to stop ROFL*

Sure

Homie * :-p *

Thank you

I Woke up in between,a memory and a dream

A mob attacked the city hospital, breaking all the equipment, hurting doctors and patients. They were the supporters of a local goon, who succumbed to injuries earlier in the day. Went to the city hospital to discover the extent of damage caused by the mob. Discovered that the mob also attacked the dead bodies in the hospital. Dead people.

Pessimism-4

Hope-0

A friend, whose father died in kargil, called. The house which was allotted to her family, after the war, is unlivable. One wall is about to fall.

Pessimism-1

Hope-0

Grandmother fell down the stairs, hurt her hip. This is her fourth operation in two years, she was operated on last month too.

Pessimism-1

Hope-0

Found out that the next exam is a killer. Nobody is sure about what the professor plans to give in the exam. Sadistic laughter is heard from the department office.

Mood: Morbid

A dog sleeps in the middle of the college road, while kids angle their vehicles around him.

Flowers blooming in the garden.

Grandmother is singing again.

Sunrise.

Men and women make a human chain to save the doctors from the mob.

Over all tally:

Hope: 27

Pessimism: 6

Earnest Hemingway once wrote, "The world is a fine place and worth fighting for." I believe the second part.-se7en

Scene One

Him:" You're acting like a pigheaded boar!"
Her: "Isn't that redundant?"

She ducks the flyng pen.

Pride

We will speak our minds.
We will be kind, only if you deserve it; not because our mothers taught us well.
We will not respect weakness.Being pseudo-intellectual does not make you wise.
We are not sorry that we are successful.
We do not think anyone has an overnight success or a stroke of luck and all that jazz.
We do not think that anyone conspired to make you fail, no not even fate.
We will not "help" you. You have two hands; we will help you get the tools. Rest is up to you. You will get what you deserve.
We will not play your game.
We do not mind when you call us selfish. We do not consider it an insult.
Everyone is living their life as they want to, we do not think we know best. We may not know anything; we respect your right to live as you do.
Being kind, honest, open minded and hardworking is very important to us.
We do not expect anything from you, you shouldn't either.
We value our time.
We do not care to answer questions like," Will you save a man or earn money"
We don't believe in discussing our choices or sugar coating them for you.
We try very hard not to judge anyone.

Posted on 27th October,2005

I think my heart jumps every time I hear the first few lines of this song. I realise this makes me a dork. I hate the rest of the lyrics. I do. But dear GOD the first bit, sung in such a sexy, deep voice. *Fans herself*

Public displays of emotion are alright, only if the people in question are beautiful. Otherwise its just gross.

Guess who has a huge crush on Craig Ferguson. Wicked wicked accent.Wicked.

I just heard Ronan Keating's cover of Iris. I think I died a little.

Amusings

I love bookcases. And I like to keep books in bookcase, not photographs or knick knacks, as is the latest fad. I am old school. Books in bookcases, strange candles somewhere else! My books are divided into three groups-the ones I adore and will never part with, ones I want to read and the ones I got as gifts or bought on impulse, tried to read and failed. None of these will I ever lend to you. I am not your average book lover, as with all other things in my life, I am a psychotic, slightly nutty booklover. I love my books and if I see you treating my books roughly, leaving them open, upside down,I will pounce on you. Also I never lend my books, EVER!

Stress!

Stop blaming someone else for your stress and take control.The next few weeks will be interesting.
Darn it, should have done some stuff during spring break.

Roommate Musings

My mess, your mess: You develop this almost supernatural ability to distinguish between the messes that you created and those created by the roommate.

Food: You learn to serve ½ of the food available in your plate. The quantity of food is not an issue here. You may finish it in ten days; serve it in one go or it may be lost forever.

Not coming home to an empty house is a great. Coming home to a hot cup of tea and a good listener is a blessing. Not being in a relationship with that person is a miracle.

Shopping buddy: Shopping buddy who reminds you that rent has not been paid while you both cry outside Ann Taylor.

Language development: Improving Hindi skills, all comments about people are strictly in Hindi. “Vo Lal Kapde pehnee admee ko dekho”

Sharing Rent and bills: Yeah baby!

The voices only speak to me

Things to do this month:

• Spring cleaning: get the wardrobe in order.(check)
• Start doing more volunteer work: Animal shelter.
• Start taking time to read: go to a park and read on Sundays.

Kickbacks:

• Get hair colored or get a tattoo.

Sleepless

There are people you call when late night paranoia hits you. And then there are those you call only when you are feeling stable and happy and great. You need to have known me for at least 5 years and

seen me cry,
seen me scream,
seen me underconfident and dejected,
seen me overconfident and arrogant, before you will be admitted to the first group.

After that happens, you will learn to pray because I can talk till 4 am.