I love...

how Sue Sylvester rigged Secret Santa and stole Christmas. Only Sue could've pulled that! (I'm talking about Glee. FYI)

I think..

the most beautiful scent on a woman is the scent of her hair

Fear

Don't want to tempt fate and instead of expressing fear, I am going to express gratitude for the blessings that have arrived in my life this month. Thank you.. to whoever has been listening to me and giving me the dues plus more for the hard work I've put into my career, personal life and writing life over the last six years. A very heartfelt, thank you.

I registered with slight trepidation for my first class at Stanford. And got immediately excited upon receiving the course syllabus. Expecting my first set of assignments to come in by Jan 5th.

This week is going to be very painful to live through. I'm restless, antsy, impatient and it generally feels like one never-ending week. Waiting for that letter to arrive is like waiting for a guy that likes you to ask you out on a first date. I know it's going to happen, just don't know when.  ARGH.

The weather ain't helping. My chair is icy cool and my ass has been alternatively freezing and going numb at my desk. Every hour or so, I've been dousing my hands with hot water to preserve the heat. My palms and feet get so cold that it actually hurts me.

Praying for warmth and a quick dismissal from this agony of anticipation.

Last December in JC

I don't handle stress well AT all. My parents and R have repeatedly said that to me. I'm not particularly enjoying admitting to it right now. Last night when I got back home after work, my parents had already started and finished about 20% of the packing. My beautiful beautiful home looked so empty and drab. The paintings, photographs, books, wall-art - everything was gone and neatly stacked in boxes. It depressed me. Mom and Dad are also leaving on Friday and its making me sad because we barely spent any time together this visit. Between taking care of Baa and feeding the entire extended family over Thanksgiving, we didn't spend alone time together.

I've questioned myself hazaar times. R too, has had a few moments of reconsideration about the apartment hunt and whether it's worth moving. In nine years that I've been in the country, it's the first time I'm feeling depressed and sad at the idea of moving again to a new place.

But, I keep thinking about this ridiculously awesome House-warming that I will throw and how happy we will be once we are done with the move and have found the perfect apartment. Visualizing this makes it somewhat easier.

Just wish mom and Dad were staying a little bit longer.

The great hunt

My life right now in bullet points:

1. Apartment hunting sucks. Never a right time for it. I know it'll work out though, just wish I didn't have to deal with the added tension.

2. Grandma is getting better by the day which is awesome but my patience is running short with her antics and her demanding behavior. Over the weekend, I chatted with her a little about her childhood and her life and granted, it hasn't been very easy but it annoys me that she couldn't find a single silver lining or positive story about the life she's had. Her Dad passed away when she was nine or ten and her husband passed away at 25, so I do feel bad for her. I suppose back then, women weren't empowered to feel independent and the lack of a strong male presence in her life has made her attention-hungry. Her back was itchy last night and I rubbed some sandalwood powder on it. The thin, papery skin on her back made my skin crawl. It made me feel very uncomfortable because it was such a stark reminder of how my parents will one day be just as old. It also made me a little sad because I know inspite of my constant bickering of her, I will miss her a little when Baa is gone.

3. I fall a little more in love with R everyday. He's full of surprises. I need him to have one huge win. Just one huge win so he can get his faith back in himself and his uncharted path. Risking everything for something you believe in is not easy. It's ambiguous and often depressing and I've seen more colors to R in the last eight months than I have in the last seven years. Also, because of Baa, we've been hanging out a lot more with the larger family (my doctor cousin) and her kids. R is amazing with kids and in a moment of weakness he said to me how nice it would be to have our own someday. It's beautiful to watch us grow from awkward college kids to confident twenty-somethings with first jobs and first paychecks to awkward late twenty-somethings rewriting our lives. Ok. I'm breaking my rules. shh no more taking about R here.

4. Yoga is going fabulously and I'm so thankful that my body still responds beautiful to all the hard work I've been putting it through. I've been training with a personal yoga teacher for the last three weeks and the effect it has had on my mind, my posture and my abs (yay!) has been instantaneous. S, my friend and yoga teacher, is also a holistic health counselor and her profound knowledge on wellness, eating and respecting and taking care of our body amazes me. She's my age and such a glowing face. Thinking of her makes me happy.

5. D actually read my story. What's so cool about our friendship is that I don't truly care much for trance or electronic music and he doesn't care much for my fiction, but we are still such such amazing friends. Knock on wood.

6. It's sad how powerpoint has become my best friend. Sad that I've become so lazy and conditioned to thinking in bullet points. See.. you don't need a business degree for that! You work long enough and you begin to think in bullet points.

7. Music, has without a doubt found its way back into my life. And I thank KEXP for that, a local radio station from Seattle.

Silver Lining

So, a little unbelievable... but I got into the Stanford Creative Writing Program. I was so sure of dismissal - tells you what a low self-esteem I have.
The news arrived the night of my sister's birthday. I'm still slightly dazed. I'm one of the 17 people picked for the program. It feels tremendous.
:D

Ae Dil.. Tu Laya Hai

Last weekend was stratospheric. Mom and Dad are here and the entire clan (17 of us!) got together over the weekend. It was epic. Amidst stinky diapers, several rounds of Catan, home made lasgane, tea and bhajjia at 3am and four tireless kids, I had the best weekend I could dream of.

Baa is at my place now and I am reminded again why I never warmed up to her. I almost feel guilty saying this out loud. She's not a very pleasant person to be around. Constantly bitching and complaining, never fully appreciating anything anyone does for her and turning daughter's against her daughter-in-laws. Parenting in the fifties and sixties must have been very different. My only point of reference is Mad Men but my hunch is that Baa was just as cold and selfish with her kids.

She was married at 15 and by the time she was 25, she had six kids. Her husband passed away shortly after and she was alone with six mouths to feed, little financial support from the rest of her family. Her son's had no choice but to step up. One of them quit his school and took over Grandfather's shop. The other one found a way to go to America and worked nights and studied in the day to send money back to his family in India. Baa suffered too but I also think she got in a way used to having everyone dote on her and take care of her, which if you ask me, is beyond annoying. She's too dramatic and I believe she gets a secret, morbid pleasure out of making everyone else around her feel miserable. Boy. Am I going to feel shitty about admitting to these thoughts or what.

Plitch.

Storm before the calm

Happy Diwali! Life has been very agreeable. I had the most splendid Diwali dinner with family. Baa is back to her usual, dramatic antics which tells us that she's normal. She's constantly whining and complaining and at times, bitching about either one of her daughters or one of her daughter-in-laws. All is well. :)

My Diwali weekend though, was brilliant. It was the StartingBloc Summit weekend and being surrounded by a group of super talented, super brilliant men and women, changing the world was just what I needed to march on further on my road. It was also heartwarming to see R in action. Ever since he quit his job earlier this year, he's been happier. He works harder than he ever did and everyone that works with him, absolutely loves him. A teared up while thanking R and my heart glowed with such pride for him. I am thankful for this community - it reminds me of my priorities in life. Two women I met left me awe-inspired. One of them runs a non-profit that organizes street-youth in Lagos, Nigeria (and now Mumbai) and enables them to start their own businesses. The other women I met runs an orphanage in Kenya and I haven't met anyone else that can speak so passionately and with so much emotion about the work they do. Majority of the SB Fellows are broke, but come from privilege. It's inspiring to note that they may not have money for much else, but are doggedly focused on their mission in making a better life for those around them.

R is at his best in this community. As much as money is important to him, I admire it that he just quit his job to follow a difficult path. He doesn't simply talk about doing, he just does it. His dots are connecting and I'm very proud that he is my husband.

Another friend of mine finished her yoga certification. This morning, I took a private yoga class with her and I've felt so refreshed and alive all day long. Good thing too since I'm booked every single week-night this week starting with a talk at Asian Women in Business. Mom and Dad arrive on Thursday and life will go back to being even more colorful and joyful.


Did I mention? J from work had dinner with Woody Allen last week. It got me googling him and I read a quote by Mr. Allen that goes something like this, "80% of life is just showing up." So I told R that I was going to say yes to going out and attending events more often than not.
So far, so good.

Grooming Woes

Getting waxed is awkward. My brand of preference is the lady that does her job, gives an occasional smile, maybe a compliment but mostly stays silent and chats only when it pertains to a pesky little hair that refuses to be waxed. The "regular" woman I go to is all of the above and more. She is blessed with the such delicate hands that when she's threading my brows, I don't feel a thing. The problem is when I forget that my "regular" woman works at the salon only on Thurs, Fris and Sats.(I'm not that bad - I do know her name and her story. She is M. )

Twice in a row, I've forgotten this and ended up with another woman. I'm sure she is lovely. But I'd like for her to mind her own business. Maybe its the intimacy of knowing that she's probably the only other person after my husband that gets to touch my thigh fat, but at exactly what point we became "friends" in her books, I do not know. Perhaps she feels that because she can command me to "turn over," and apply baby oil on my raw body post-waxing, she feels that she now has the license and liberties to express concern for me and oh, also advise me about my marriage.

Here's the kicker. She's not even a sagely 40 something auntie who I'd respect and entertain just because she's old and knows what she is talking about. This nutcase is two years younger than me!

Yesterday at the table, she asks, "You're married na?" (Ya baba, she is desi)
"Yes. Why?"
"You should wear your ring in the proper finger. Everything is okay na with your marriage?"
"Um Yaa"

Who died and made you my marriage-worrier? What a curse. I like going to Desi salons because they get 'threading'. And it makes sense to get the rest of me groomed there. But this was ridiculous. If you are wondering, I did tip her properly. But that's the last she's seeing of fat my thighs.

When did my life choices become something I had to now justify to the woman who strips my body hair? I wear my engagement ring in my middle finger. Not a metaphor or twisted symbolism for anything but I prefer it there.

In better news, I made a request for a song on radio and they played it today. Made my day!

Putting out fires

I learned a very good lesson at work today about building relationships. The big client that we signed on (that I mentioned I'm working with) requires us to have strong relationships in the design/ innovation sector and as a company, we have a limited reach in that sector. This had been on my mind for a few days and because I wasn't able to get time with my boss to talk about this, this issue made me nervous and led to a small fuck-up on a client call today. My boss let me make it - in hindsight, I'm thankful that he lets me make my own mistakes and learn from them. Any other boss would have jumped into the situation and turned it around. Instead, he let me flap around like a fish out of water for a bit so I knew exactly what it was that I went rogue and off-script on. After the call, he expressed his concern and spent twenty minutes or so hearing my frustrations and challenges with this project. He worked with me one by one and gave me a proper direction to enable me to solve these problems. (Is it bad to sometimes liken your boss to a teacher or a father-figure?) He gives me credit too, in that, I CRAVE for feedback. I'm obsessed with the desire to make myself better and I act on most feedback I receive. So we work extremely well together. We've got good rhythm.

It's sad that I'm more of a pessimist than I thought I was. My first reaction to a new challenge or a new hurdle is intimidation and a minor freak-out. I begin to think of all the ways I can fuck it up. (new friendships as well) My boss, (as much as he frustrates me sometimes!) has worked me so patiently to help me become a more confident person. Confidence - that's all there is to anything. I've come to realize that confidence and persuasion are the only two skills I need to be successful in my business. Everything else is bollocks.

Anyways, coming back to the relationship piece. My boss told me how to skillfully open those doors. My client is my gold card and he said, there is not a single person that won't pick up the phone when I call them about this client. It's so easy to maintain a fine line between professional and personal relationships -- they are all relationships after all. And my boss is right, this is an investment that will pay dividends for the rest of my life. (and my career) He's so good at initiating and maintaining relationships. I felt inspired after our meeting and ordered elegant cream Thank you notes on a thick and sophisticated card stock from Crane. I wrote out ten thank you notes to the folks that have recently played a role in my professional projects.

I read this quote earlier this week and it's defining my current professional stage.  
"The society that separates its scholars from its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting by fools." - Thucydides

This job has taught me how to both a scholar and a warrior. Strategy and execution. Thinking and do-ing. I get heart palpitations some nights when I think of the impending career move and wonder if I will have a boss like M where my learning will continue. I'm sad on other accounts as well, some superficial. I work on the coolest street in Manhattan. It's a tiny cobble-stoned (YES! One of the only few cobblestoned streets remaining in NYC) in Soho. Ricky Martin, Naomi Watts, Leiv Schriber, Tyra Banks - these are my neighbors on this street. And I don't even raise a brow at the other celebrities that hang out on my street or the hood' cafe. The other day when I met my friend, Nicole Ritchie was sitting at the table next to me. My colleague and friend S. randomly bumps into the likes of Anne Hathway and Beyonce when stepping out for lunch. Patricia Field's boutique (Designer for Sex and the City) is a block from my office ;( 
I've gotten used to a certain glamor that this neighborhood affords.

Ian Schrager (of the Studio 54 fame) built a huge green-metal building that is simultaneously a thing of beauty and a monstrosity right next to ours. A friend had commented how this building reminded him of a cage for dinosaurs. And every morning when I walk to work, there is a trio of Asian photographs from some cool Japanese magazine (whose name I cannot pronounce) taking photographs of the building or orchestrating a photo-shoot with a enviously skinny model in front of the building. Heck, they even transported a snow-white stallion one bright Tuesday morning for a shoot. 


My office building houses a bunch of creative agencies and a modeling agency. It's commonplace for me now to stand next to a six feet glamazon while waiting for the elevators, feeling significantly fat, out of place, yet smug in the knowledge that my work life is so incredibly interesting and fun. A crazy and half-senile artist lives on the top-most floor of my building. We know he's been in the elevator when it's stinking of cigar smoke. The other creative agency that's in my building has a bunch of Swedish and English expats working there. Because we have just one elevator in the building, lunch-time is a a cacophony of various accents going up and down the elevator, stopping briefly on the third floor to drop or pick up a colleague.

The point is - my building, my street, my neighborhood is full of characters. And I'm already missing this. Plus, my boss is somewhat of a celebrity in the art worlds and our office is always buzzing with European and local American street artists and indie film-makers stopping by to meet with M and his wife. The serene, blue-loft like space of my office has become my second home. My colleagues have become such close friends and the music... sigh. Having Sirius Satellite Radio on 14 hours a day has improved and reinvigorated my interest in music. So much to give up. 


I don't give it enough credit but a few years down the road when I'm writing a professional book, there will be chapter dedicated to my early influences. Being exposed to art, photography, high-brow culture and even a bit of glamor, has molded my thinking and elevated my own sense of self. I've worked on this street, in this hood for over three years. It'll be like breaking up when I leave. Even my local take-out food guy knows me and that I like the Vegan Mediterrnean Sandwich, extra spicy :( 


But I can sense a different kind of change seeping into my life. A change, for which I feel ready. I have to take a leap of faith and trust that my learning will continue (and if I can be hopeful) accelerate in a new place with new people around me. Also, since this change has not been driven by any other reason than the desire for career advancement (Unlike my past jobs - where the reasons have been everything from the desire to be in NYC, to work for a CEO, to have a cooler-sounding title!) it makes me feel secure in my knowledge that I'm being analytical and logical about my next move. It is going to be a few months before that happens, but in my gut, I know its coming. 


This post has become a litany on my work life. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't work. I was chatting with my doctor cousin the other day. They are moving into the burbs next year. Doing the whole American dream you know - 5 bedroom mansion, two cars, a pool and private school for the girls. The works. I'm happy for them but I shuddered. I won't survive in suburbia. I feed off the energy in the city. It used to scare me that as I grow older, I'll want the suburbia. But when I was walking to work earlier this week, I felt comforted. R and I have never harbored such dreams. Never wanted the suburbia and at our ages now, what we want from life is pretty clear. Granted, once we start thinking of family, it might force us to re-think our decisions. But, I grew up in an incredibly tiny house. And went to strictly ok schools. I turned out ok. Maybe the kids will too? 
Who knows. 


This post is too long now. Headache.

Confused

My friend was visiting today and made a very strange comment to me. I didn't take offense to it but it makes me wonder exactly how "married" people are supposed to behave. He mentioned that it doesn't look like I'm married and I asked him why - he said that married women have a certain look. I wonder if he thinks that because I don't share my profile picture on Facebook with R. But it was an odd comment.
I try not to get too ga-ga about my life - marriage - when I have company. Because lets face it, save a few hurdles, I've got it pretty good. I've made the compromises I feel comfortable with and beyond that, both R and I pick our battles with each other very carefully. Mostly, I've got a partner where I think of him more as a best friend than a husband. What does "husband" mean anyway?

My friend even asked if we were living separately and that confused me even more. Should I be talking more about R and inserting him in every conversation ? Should I be littering his wall with messages that are best saved for GChat? I offered my friend our place to crash at if he needed to spend the night in New York. I didn't consult R and I wonder if that's why he made those comments. I'm not offended, but a little rankled.

Anyways, I'm superstitious. And I don't want to tempt fate. So I'll shut up. But God save me if I ever begin to look like a "married" woman - whatever that means.

Its done

I almost didn't send the application in, but bravado prevailed and I just printed the application out and booked a UPS overnight shipment. Its slightly unnerving. If I don't get in, I pray to God to give me the grace to accept it and to not lose confidence in myself. Ideasmithy - THANK you for your generous feedback and brutal honesty. It propelled me forward. I could use this discipline and it would be a huge boost to my flagging self-confidence.

Baa's tethering between relapsing and getting better. P. is trekking to the hospital today while I take care of her kids. I don't want to speculate anymore about Baa. Praying that she is able to fight this.

It's been an exhausting week and some good news will be much appreciated.

Baa

Seeing her in the hospital, a wasted, frail figure on a bed twice the size of her, reminded me of 2005 and my goodbye to K.Baa. I don't want to talk about this. It's not as painful as it is a reminder of the mortality of the ones we love. On Sunday, my entire family got together. It was ironic that we couldn't all find time to get together for a family reunion but made it to the hospital for Baa. Watching my uncle and aunts break down for their mother made me feel weak and like a child. But it was us, the children, comforting the adults and reminding them to not feel guilty and to stay optimistic.

I could smell sickness yesterday. In the minds and bodies of people that came in and out of the hospital. I wanted to escape for a moment into a vast, green, happy place in my head, away from the morbidity of it all. But Baa is better now. And that's all that counts.

I found myself wishing for one more chance with her. I've taken her for granted and last night when her eyes met mine for a fleeting second, when she was trying to recognize me and place me, I broke down. I felt glad that my mother wasn't here to see her own mother in such a state. That's all I want to say about this.

I got to spend the entire night with S though. She's only four months old and such a happy baby! She stayed up at the hospital with us the entire night. I held her in my arms and sang to her to get her to sleep. It felt, oddly satisfying. She is still bald and what little hair she has, stands up like a mohawk. She has big ears and bright, blackberry eyes. What with her mohawk and big ears, she's got a pixie-look going on! She woke up at 3am again and insisted on playing and being entertained. But I got so exhausted and annoyed with her energy, that I tricked her and put a bottle of milk in her mouth and put her back to sleep again. And then in the morning V arrived. He's nine months old and already so big. Less of a talker, but quick to act and writhe in my arms to get out and crawl on the disgusting floor. His skin smelled so good. Baa is 78 years old. And these kids, not even a year. Four generations in one building. My mind was blown. Plus, I was reminded how I'm not ready yet for babies. The smiling is fun, but the potty and vomit is just such a disaster.

On a lighter note, the more I learn about SG, the more I like the company. I almost blew this interview off because I hadn't heard much about the company. Had my second interview this morning and I was surprised that I nailed it. But I need a few more dates with this company before I leave mine for it. I was telling R how proud I was of myself this time around in planning my career. I've taken a very calculated and disciplined approach. I'm assertive and honest in my interviews. I'm asking difficult questions and answering even more difficult ones with finesse and ease. I have three additional interviews with different agencies in the coming weeks and I want to give each a fair chance of impressing me. Plus, the more agencies I met and more leaders I interview with, the clearer idea I get of what I want next.

I'm fast approaching the end of my tenure here - and it makes me so sad. I notice little things at companies where I interview. No music ;( No cool neighborhoods :( And the idea of leaving my friends and colleagues behind makes me sad. I've been mentally preparing for this and will negotiate until January to be here. I take a while to get close to folks and sometimes, the idea of starting anew makes me anxious. But, one step at a time.

On a last note - the weekend was the best I've had in ages. (Apart from my little incident with taking "baby" and "shower" literally and spritzing Pepsi on a little girl in a fit of laughter. Lets not go there. I'm mortified as it is.) We stayed at T's in Philly and J came over too. Rabid and her bf visited us and we had an insane night of board-games, specifically Settlers of Catan. I'm addicted and found myself dreaming of Brick, Wood, Sheep, Grain & Ore!
I hadn't seen T in seven months! I think R got bored with our girl-talk so perhaps I'll have to make a solo visit to Philly next time to catch up with T & R again. I miss this. I wish T & Rabid were in NYC. I miss having close friends so close by :( 

J also got me addicted to Angry Birds on iPhone. So much so that I got home last night at 1am and was playing the game on my phone until 3!

There was no water in the building yesterday. Any second thoughts R and I had of moving to NYC disappeared when buy plastic jugs of water and warm it on the stove to take a meager shower. I'm moving to NYC. Mostly so I never have to deal with water shortage again. What a joke. You'd think after several water-main breaks, the Jersey City municipality would have it figured out. It also annoys me that my building doesn't maintain a water storage. Esp. since this is the fifth time the water main has broken in the last two years that I've been here! R let me have the last jug of water to bathe with so I could make it to my interview looking clean and fresh. :D

I can't wait for him to get into his top school and begin his next phase in life.

It must be a Wednesday

I'm reading Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy and cannot get over the idea. What a premise for a story! This should've..  could've been the next Star Trek franchise. R even downloaded the movie last night to feed my obsession but I wasn't as impressed. The writing is clever and the characters are stronger on paper.

Right now, this very moment, while I am pulling my hair out to meet a ridiculous deadline, my sister is cracking me up with her antics. She dropped her phone in the wash-basin at work (I suspect it was actually in the toilet bowl but this is her effort at self-preservation) My sister is addicted to her phone. Whether it is 2am at night or 4pm in the day, she is always BBming someone on some continent. So while her phone rests in a pot full of rice at home to get better, she has no other form of entertainment to keep her occupied. We both G-chat when we are at work, but today has been a colossally unexpected afternoon.

My sister is so bored out of her mind that she has engaged me in an Online KBC. She is narrating it, Amitabh Bacchan style and seeding me questions with four options. And relaying her commentary with the famous KBC one-liners, "Lock kar de?" "Aaap ki two lifeline jeevit hai," etc. (She's given me Google as a lifeline) She's also give me a new lifeline called Double Dip that lets me provide two answers to one question.

I lost at 10,000 Rupees in the first round. Right now, I've made it to 3,20 Lakhs. Needless to say, this is the most quality time we've spent on G-Chat. And it's providing terrific amusement for me as I drudge through my day. *Drumrollls*

Whose agenda is it anyways!?

I have an frustrating dilemma at work. I'm working very closely with the CMO and the Global Comms. Officer of a very large company. Our first project with them was a conference that's now over. We put in a lot of hard work and produced some amazing video content. The issue is this: my boss wants me to get a meeting with the Global Officer to show her these (20 mins?) of video. He has a valid argument: to show our work, elevate it and remind the client of how good we are and how hard we worked.

I argued with him about it today. While that is the right approach for the agency, it is not the best use of my client's time. This deliverable, in all honesty, is small potatoes to her. The conference got over two weeks ago - it will not be repeated again next year. While the content produced was terrific, the conference in itself is not a strong asset to the company yet. More importantly, I'd be happy to show this work if I were dealing with a Manager or perhaps even a Director. But I fought hard with my boss about the right audience for this video. My client deals with the CEO & the CMO of her company - and I am unable to justify using her time just to earn my agency brownie points. In fact, I argued hat our leadership will shine through in understanding how to use her time productively and taking a meeting with her when we have results, not a product.

I was able to reach middle-ground with him but it left me wondering. My decision will not earn me any favors with my client or perhaps even my boss right now. And if I were to ever start my own agency or consultancy someday, I'm pretty sure I would have made the same decision as my boss. It is interesting - as a salaried employee, I am able to fight for what I believe is right for my client, and then my company. Would it still be the same if I owned my own company? Propaganda makes me sick - I'll deal with that when I get to it. Still have a solid ten years of work ahead of me before I begin thinking of myself as a free-agent.

In other news, my work of fiction is shaping. The guy is still in the airplane, thinking and muddled in his head. Maybe I'll have him sit in the plane through-out 4000 words. :P

At 1046 words

For the record, peach flavored anything is quite frankly, disgusting.

Writing fiction is difficult. I have the broad strokes for my characters - who are both largely composites of people I've known, met, kissed, had feelings for, despised or been affected by. And a little bit of myself. I have to finish 4000 words in the next two days. I am 1048 of pure poetry, if I may say so myself.

I am looking for feedback - even if it's something as simple as "i love it" or "i hate it." I am wary of posting the work here right now but if you leave me a comment below (or email me) I'd love to email you back with the 1042 words that I have finished so far.

Pwetty please!

Revealation

Yesterday evening, braving the heavy downpour and unkind winds, I managed to hang around in the city until 8ish so I could make it to an event a friend had graciously invited me to. It was for women starting and running their own businesses in New York. I value the notion behind such events and had a pleasant evening. Being surrounded with such energy, ambition and raw passion is infectious. I also felt a little sad that I didn't have anything very interesting to offer just yet, but it was precisely the fuel I needed. I also felt a little annoyed. Entrepreneurs are an interesting bunch - they love talking about their business/ idea. But listening to forty women only talk about their business or their idea was grating my nerves. How about I get to know you first and then your idea? Because I promise that if we get along as individuals, I'll find your idea even more interesting and who knows, may even want to give you an honest opinion if you care for it. I did meet four absolutely amazing and incredibly successful women though - humble, down the earth and genuinely interested in me and my work (even though it has absolutely no value to them) So my evening wasn't an absolute goner.


****
On another note, I took a mental day off today to spend with P. Even though he has left the country, he promises to visit very often. He hasn't even closed his bank account here and that assures me that he will be back more often than not. Work had consumed my life and I hadn't time much else for anybody. We walked to Battery Park and took photos of Statue of Liberty for Maximillian. We met up with Kelly's husband for lunch and finished all of P's last minute errands.
He left a few hours ago and I'm still savoring the afterglow of having spent quality time with such a close friend.

After he left, I've been sitting on my bed re-writing and working on a work of fiction. That's when it hit me, how much I love my own company. I get along fine with people and am a good conversationalist. But I crave company very rarely, and only of those with who I can be myself. My time is too precious and every minute I'm spending being uncomfortable in a sea of people or meeting new people that aren't welcoming or refuse to extend their boundaries, I'm wasting time that I could spend with myself, delving deeper into the recesses of my mind so I can write better, think better and feel more.

Writing and I've known this so it's not really a revelation, is more about how deep I can think than how many words I can clock into the thesaurus. It is also about how honest I can will myself to be and usually when I write, I err on being brutally honest. But that kind of honesty is also exhausting and it drains me.  It is akin to standing infront of a jury or standing at a confessional and baring your soul out to whoever will listen and judge.


R is waiting for me now for our date-day. So I have to get off the laptop. But there's more on my mind.. for tonight. 

Things I will never say.

If societal norms didn't stop me, I would write this letter to someone that has been on my mind a lot today.

Dear Beautiful Mistake, I want to say thank you for your thoughtfulness today. I respect your inaction. If anything, it's only made my memories of you all the more tender. I will think of you with fondness and hope our paths cross again, as friends. Love, The Girl that's afraid of Water.

And this letter, I would send to my lost friend who I haven't shared a word with in over 5 years.

Dear Wild Child, I wish I was still in your life. I didn't value your friendship when I had it and words cannot undo my insensitivity in the past. The truth is as it was, I was afraid of our closeness. And although I know I've said this to you before and you've forgiven me, if I could, I could turn back time and go back to the spring of 2002 to rebuild our friendship. You've taught me how to be a better friend. Thank you. Love, The Broken heart you once Mended.

This letter would go to a person that's in my heart but am no longer able to touch.

Dear Deathdude, Our season is over. It's been over for a while. Just know that you are missed dearly. You are the one person that has had the most impact on me with the least number of words. And it pains me that my memory of you is still frozen in 2001. You never were mine to belong. And I will mourn that I was not the one. Love, Alice

This is for my best friend. I can tell him this in person too and that's why I love him. 

Dear Soulmate, You are my constant. It's always only been you. Love, Me

This is for K. 
K, I only have fond memories of you and the purest goodwill for you in my heart. J

This is for AN. 
A. Heard that you are going to be a father. I hope you get a daughter. And I hope you are up every single night for the rest of your life worrying about her. I don't harbor ill will towards you. A little bit of pity though. Love, The Other Girl

This is for my girls: C, M, R, S, T, R & T

Thank you for accepting me as I am, with my flaws. 

And this, is for R. 

R. I love you. J

Shifting gears

The last two years were a state of confusion and my struggle to stop myself and my skills from becoming obsolete. It was also a path ridden with self-doubt and questions about my future. My ambition was  becoming prey to a overwhelming array of interests and my dreams were losing their clarity. In short, my own story was unfocused, and blurry in my head.

In the last two months though, my wavering skepticism has come to a halt. My professional growth has been tested again and in new areas that have helped me gauge my weaknesses and strengths. A self-analysis is due but my renewed commitment to writing and becoming a better writer has played a strong role helping me determine the path that is right for me. This clarity of focus and vision has doubled my confidence in my abilities and my faith in my strengths. I am committed to and absolutely plan on becoming extremely successful, both financially and emotionally, in the next two years. I've consistently met my targets every year but its time now to hit the bullseye. Two things will happen in the first quarter of next year. 1) My professional career will jump two levels higher on a high-growth path and 2) I will have finished the first draft of my fiction manuscript.

I'm working very closely with the CMO of a large Fortune 100 company and this opportunity is helping me elevate my ability to think strategically and focus on the big picture. This experience will be instrumental in the next chapter of my professional life. I'm thrilled to be back in the game and on top of mine. 

I may not write here too often about work-stuff because I understand it can get boring. Maybe just once in a while..

Broken threads

I feel my heart thawing. It took me by surprise at how far out of reach I had gone. A few things happened today. This afternoon my cousin called me. The last time she called me was eight months ago. We live 40 minutes apart and the last time we met was three months ago. We chat on and off online, but she never calls. She is busy - what with being a doctor, managing a family and a social life. But we used to be very close. We grew up together and I still want to be a part of her world and have her be a part of mine. But I gave up a while ago. Tired of being the only person wanting us to still belong to one another. As a family, we've drifted. We are broken. And I was and perhaps still am in mourning.

I was surprised when she called me today. Instinctively I knew this call wasn't to play catch-up or about me. And I was right. She was calling to deliver a piece of unfortunate news. Our uncle's mother passed away this afternoon, without any premonition. I feel for my uncle and his children. But I was saddened that it took death in the family for my sister to call me. Families come together for difficult times but don't find enough happy occasions to share with one another.

My sister too. My enchanted ideas of the kind of relationship we will have as sisters have long vanished. But what remains are restless feelings of longing.

***
Later tonight I met G and some of her friends at Newark for Garba. The familiarity of the sight and smell knocked the breath out of me. My stomach hurt. And I began crying. It was simultaneously embarrassing and cleansing. I hadn't been to Navratri celebration in over five years. I consciously avoided it and blocked the music from my iTunes. Today I sorely missed my family. I missed my cousin, my sister and my relatives. I missed my grandmother and her voice singing the Aarti and the Garbas. Looking back, I realize I haven't been to a Navrati celebration ever since she passed away. I'm glad I went to the celebrations today but I think I have my fill for a bit. I say a silent prayer tonight though, that the next time I go for Navratri celebrations, I want to be with family, among my people.

I'm mad at myself that I stopped writing. I don't talk much about my feelings to anyone because I used to write them out and through words, I was better able to understand myself and how incidents affected me. I feel like I don't have an account of who I have become and what has changed me over the last five years. I'm committed now to changing that relationship with myself and writing.
***

There's more in my head but for once, words fail me.

Anekantavada

The last few days, I've spent immersed in the English translations of the ancient Jain Sanskrit manuscripts. Majority of the translations of ancient Jain scriptures have been done by professors and academics at universities in Germany. (It's doesn't cease to amaze me how and why Germany found the interest in Jainism and has been able to sustain and grow it over the years)

I'm not done with my readings, but for me to truly understand of essence of Jainism, I need to see it and compare it in context of other religions. Infact, I want to see how other religions differ and concur with Jainism. Kindle comes to my rescue and I've also been having interesting and deep conversations with my parents and family members about various tenets of Jainism. Of the five basic tenets of Jainsim: Ahimsa (non-violence) Satya (Truth) Asteya (Non-stealing) Aparigrapha (Non-materialism) I was instantly drawn to and find myself in agreement with Anekantvada (multiplicity of viewpoints.) Wikipedia describes it well, "the notion that truth and reality are perceived differently from diverse points of view, and that no single point of view is the complete truth." Before I expound intelligently on doctrines that resonate strongly with me, I need to learn. So I'm now reading the history of Hinduism & Buddhism. I've also downloaded the Dhammapada, the scared Buddhist text so we'll see what my mind is able to grasp and what it questions.

I don't remember who said it or where I might have read this (or maybe I imagined it?): A human soul is born with everything it needs to know. A few weeks ago when I embarked on this journey to learn and understand more about religion and Jainism, I might have expected a revelation, a sense of whoa! and perhaps, a little enlightenment. Instead I've realized that there isn't much I didn't know about the tenets of Jainism and what it prescribes. It doesn't require a particular course of study or upbringing to agree with the basic principles that Jainism adheres to. So the question for me to ask myself wasn't really, what do I not know about my religion. I've had to re-frame the question to: What is the significance of the rituals or the Kriya ? My confusion and dissonance wasn't necessarily with the religion, but with its ritualistic practice.

This is one of those quarterly obsessions I get afflicted with - once I go deep enough and absolve my puzzlement, questions and prejudices, I'll emerge empty, ready to fill my vessel again with a new obsession.

Discipline

This weekend reminded me several times why I should have taken more religion classes in college. Paryushan are on and I'm grappling that sense of guilt, misunderstanding, confusion and non-conformism. What exactly is religion ? Is being spiritual enough? I've come to an understanding that as human beings, we crave frameworks, we need structure to operate effectively and to lead happy, fulfilling lives. We are unable to operate without logic, sense & reassurance.

Even though I grew up in such a religious household, I'm amazed how it didn't inspire me or interest me. As children do, I blindly followed the rituals, the rules and the festivals without understanding them. Even then, I distinctly remember my inability to deal with rules and authority and I've broken them every chance I've had. Some I remember, like peeing at our holy temple and deliberately going to pray into a temple while I was menstruating. These weren't driven by a desire to insult my parent's faith. I was six or seven when I peed at the temple and I only did so because I couldn't find the bathroom or the nearest one was a mile or so away.

At twenty-seven, I'm beginning to question my limited understanding of religion and how it must work in my life. I'm past the need for rebellion and being a non-conformist for the sake of it, but I refuse to subscribe to a path of life without understanding it.

I did some reading about Jainism this weekend. That's not enough for me. The word, "religion" is too weighted for me. Jainism, as I'm learning, is more a way of life and living than a subscribed dogma. Ofcourse, over the few thousand years or so, it has come to adopt its own rules, but in essence, Jainism comes down to four basic tenets: 1) Non-violence 2) Truth 3) Not taking what does not belong to one (no stealing) 4) Not becoming attached to material possessions.

As my friend put it, Yoda is Jain. And if Yoda practices this way of living, how can it be too stifling ? Jokes apart, why do most religions prescribe to a period of self-punishment and penance once a year? Is it to allow us to test perseverance and discipline ourselves ? Do our souls feel better after depriving ourselves of certain foods and activities for a limited period of time each year? I'm very interested in the answers but I wonder if after I discover the answers, will I want to embrace religion or walk away from it?

Religion vs. Spirituality.

Today two conversations happened that left me feeling lighter. The first one was an observation and a confession about what it means to be an Indian. Sometimes I am surprised with how little of religion, customs or culture I inherited considering how religious my parents and my family is and how being a Jain defines them. As much as I will miss the space, green and river-views afforded by Jersey City, I'm eager to move into Manhattan. Living in JC, feels like I'm not too far away from India. And especially my building. It's worth nothing that my building attracts young Indian families by the droves. Just yesterday I stumbled into my building, tired from a 12 hour work-day, and was bull-dozed by a swarm of little brown children dressed in like little Hindu Gods. I reeled back for a second trying to gather my wits and then I realized it was Janmashthami, Krishna's birthday. To instill Indian values and culture into their children, the parents had decided to dress them up and celebrate in the common lounge. I am atleast half a decade away from considering motherhood but I found myself panicking. Is this what will be expected of me?
And once I opened that box, Pandora wouldn't let me shut it.

Tomorrow is also Paryushan. As a Jain, the next seven days are the most important days for me and my community. If you are one of the two readers reading this and are wondering what Paryushan is, Wikipedia it. Also look up Jainism on Wikipedia. Jains across the world will abstain from sex, alcohol, and most types of food (most green vegetables and root vegetables) The next seven days are for penance, meditation and seeking forgiveness. On an abstract level, I respect and even understand the ritual. A clean mind and body, intense self-reflection and prayers to wash the past year's sins. But on a literal level, I've always had trouble understanding and accepting this. My main issue with Jainism is that its not meant to be a religion and yet, over the years, we've had scriptures, and rules and from a way of living, from a spiritual path, Jainism has taken on a cult-like significance that subjects everyone else to the lens they view the world with. I confess, I have not studied the religion. But as a precocious and extremely aware adolescent girl, I was acutely aware that something was wrong with the framework of my religion if it deemed me practically an untouchable every time I menstruated. Menstruating girls weren't allowed to visit the temple. Or touch Gods. Or in extreme families, touch anything or anyone in the house for four days. The church let me though. But then, it wouldn't let me eat bread or drink the wine because I wasn't a Catholic. You can imagine how confusing all this can get for a 15 year old girl. So I simply stopped needing a place of worship and found my own spiritual path. I often flirt with the idea of studying Jainism more so my opinions would be well-informed and unbiased. But I've found such happiness in taking what I like and ignoring what I don't, that I don't feel the need to have an informed opinion anymore. I've found a system that works for me.

But every year, it returns to me, gnawing at me and awakening conflicting emotions; especially when I am surrounded by a family, a sister and friends that so staunchly observe it. I feel judged. But that is my fault, not theirs.

I see sense and value in rituals. I believe rituals give life meaning and the expectation of its clockwork-like occurrence gives us something to look forward to. I am grateful for the rituals and festivals my parents gave me and the memories I have attached with it. But I think, between R and I, we'll have to invent some rituals of our own.

The battrey's are running out so I need to sign off. The second thought can remain in my head for now.

A timid snake

Strange dreams tonight of a fat, blue marble-skinned snake crawling up my mortified body. Followed my another dream of a more ordinary but lethal black snake hissing its tongue two inches away from my face. Or maybe the two snakes were a part of the same dream. But it was early morning, I was in my bed - not in another dreamworld. I could see my red paisley print bedding from my peripheral vision. Just occurred to me that I've changed the paisley bedding a few weeks ago, so I assume that in my dream, I'm in the past, when the paisley print was still on. I could feel the weight of the blue snake - the dream felt so real. I've been practicing lucid dreaming for over a decade now so I stared down the beasts and willed them to not kill me, swallow me or bite me and just like that, they slithered way into the black hole they'd emerged from.
I'm repelled when I think about those beasts now but when I was lucid-dreaming, my head was calm and collected. I remember a sensation of sick wonder mixed with disbelief. I do not remember tasting fear. But after those snakes disappeared, I crawled closer to R and shut my eyes tight to catch some more sleep. What a strange start to my holiday weekend.

I'm off though. It's 2pm and come what may, I am leaving office to enjoy my very last summer Friday. A quick stop at Strand Book store to feed my latest obsession: Data Visualization & Information Design.

This weekend promises to be creatively fun and challenging - I've given myself a few fun projects that will help me learn basic Information design and make fun little graphs. How sad is it that I'm obsessed with work and learning over a holiday weekend. It doesn't feel like work though..

Signing off!

Ruminations on moral boundaries and social contracts

It's difficult to get back into the flow of writing. The last few years have trained me to think in bullet points, albeit, in story-form. I have a few things on my mind that I want to try to make sense of and writing about them, arguing it out with myself helps me. So here's a try.

Moral boundaries and passion: At what point does curiosity lead to a breach of moral contracts? At what point does curiosity stop being the driving force and instead, takes a turn towards becoming a destructive force? I'm not sure I know the answers but this year I've experimented with a few things that when judged black and white, the verdict is against me.

Not that this falls squarely into that realm but it irks me and hence the need to think it out.

Last week, R and I ordered Indian take-out. Chicken for him & Paneer for me. Our meals were switched and I'd eaten half a portion of the Chicken dish before R hastily realized that I was eating his meal. As a vegetarian, I expected to instantly gag and feel revolted. As a Jain, I expected to feel guilty and shamed. But I felt nothing.I found myself ruminating over the chewy-quality of the chicken and I moved on to my meal. I was genuinely surprised that I didn't know I was eating chicken. It didn't taste like chicken - or what I thought chicken would taste like. As a vegetarian, I thought my reflexes would kick in if I ever  found myself putting anything unwieldy in my stomach. Not really.
My lack of a superlative response surprised and confused me.

When I expressed my confusion to R (about why I wasn't feeling what I expected to feel) he remarked that my vegetarianism is out of habit and not out of choice. And that ticked me off. More than the chicken.

Granted, I've been a vegetarian my entire life. I was born into a vegetarian family - but I left home at 18. I've had plenty of years (9 to be precise) to switch or make a conscious attempt to try meat. And I haven't.  I might not have consciously made a pact with myself but I'm sure that I've sub-consciously made a decision to not eat meat every-time the opportunity was presented. I can see how my lack of a passionate POV can be construed as a thoughtless idea. Esp since everyone in New York has such strong opinions about food and dietary habits.

Even RS is incredibly well-informed about food, veganism and vegetarianism. She even avoids animal protein and by products in toothpastes, shampoos and soaps! I'm not and I do not aspire to be as vigilant about my choice and that's why I question my own moral boundaries with meat and vegetables. I haven't given the choice critical thought of research so does that mean R is right and that I'm a vegetarian out of habit?

It's also a little bit annoying when partners assume to know you, your decisions and your actions because they've been with you for seven years. Probably out of habit. (Sorry R, not meant to be a potshot at you -but still, it's a possibility!) 

Maybe he is not entirely right and maybe I am not entirely at fault. But it irks me and I began to ask myself questions and examine myself a little more closely over the last few weeks.

Rules and social contracts have never held much weight with me. But I do like to think that I am a person with integrity. How others define integrity is upto them. I don't know how I define it but most of the times its driven by what I feel in my gut is the FAIR thing/ decision. I've let down many people (Often members of my own family and my closest friends) for what is fair and that's a price I've had to pay several times just so I can go to bed knowing I made the right decision or said the right words. That's just how I choose to life my life and its no dictum for anyone else to judge or follow.

Coming back to the issue at hand. Here's where I stand on this. Being a vegetarian is a choice I have made. It is not out of habit or not because I was raised such. It is a conscious choice. It is not driven by my desire to save animals or my love for them. In fact, I've done enough research to know that by default, human bodies need animal protein and that we've all got our space in the food eco-system. However, I choose my path because the other option disgusts me. It may not be the well -thought out, propaganda that well-educated vegetarians teach themselves. But it works for me. And I don't remember the world stopping the last time someone decided something wasn't for them because they were disgusted by it.

So there.
It's not habit, it's disgust.

That doesn't entirely satisfy my inner philosopher, but it's good enough for now. While I go dig for better answers.

2010 So far

It's already September. I barely noticed the summer pass me by and here we are again, my favorite time of the year. Come September, I begin to feel a renewed glow of energy for life. The summer lethargy is washed away as things at work come back into focus and life fills back into the city, yes, even on weekends.
We've managed to stay mostly local this summer and I wouldn't have had it any other way. I think R and I are both the kind of people that need and want home time to re-charge and feel grounded.
But now summer's ending and our travels are about to begin again, with Claire's wedding in Ireland.

I want to backtrack for a second though and speak briefly about the three cities I've visited this year.

In hindsight, Lima was a joke of a trip. I'm not even sure how I ended up there. I remember an annoying day at work and RS pinging me online about a ridiculous deal to Lima. And even though I had no vacation time left, I bought two tickets. Machu Pichu was never on the agenda so I don't feel bad about missing out on it. I know we'll return. Last minute visa issues prevented R from making the trip and I bitched my way to the airport, turning back several times, but finally pulling through. I'm glad RS was traveling with me though and we ended up having a terrific time. Sort of felt like being in college again - what with living in a hostel and going out drinking and partying every night. It was a welcome change. Made some friends, ate some incredibly fresh food, finished reading four books on my Kindle, went cliff-jumping and laughed uncontrollably when RS flashed and mooned the locals as she changed into her surf-gear.

Lima reminded me of an old, forgotten shanty-town. Bollywood references (whether it was Shahrukh Khan's photograph peeking from a Spanish magazine or a Peruvian woman at the salon opening up her cell-phone to play Bole Chudiyan for me) were never more than two feet away. Even at a local music store, A.R Rahman's CD's and his music permeated the atmosphere. It's times like these when tiny waves of pride and joy envelope me, even if its just for a second. It's humbling to belong to such a vibrant and rich culture. I feel its influence very viscerally in the most unexpected places.

(Or maybe I seek it out. It's strange how I look for references to Bombay every time I visit a new country, a new city. It helps me draw parallels and quickly orient myself into unfamiliar surroundings.)

I'm not much of a history nut, but the catacombs at San Fransisco Church, Plaza de Armas in downtown Lima took my breath away. I was fascinated. To imagine it was someone's job once to handle these bones and skulls and arrange them in such perfect symmetry for the benefit of wide-eyed tourists such as me...wow. History is same all over. A hero, a martyr, an uprising, a revolt, a victory, a defeat. I'm more fascinated with the now. How do people live now and how different are their lives from mine? What do they read? What are their favorite foods? What are their dreams and aspirations? What do they think about the world outside of their immediate lives? What are their imaginations like? and where do their curiosities lead them?

Another memorable experience in Lima was our last dinner at Almazen. RS heard of this place and it took us a solid two hours to find it. I lost my patience a few times, out of hunger and then out of annoyance, but RS's determination prevailed and we finally hopped into a cab only to realize that the restaurant was only three blocks from our hostel.

Henry, the chef and owner of Almazen, was immediately taken by our candor and excitement. We were the only guests in the restaurant and Henry made it worth our while. We engaged on a gastronomical journey tasting Peru's local fruits and vegetables. Who knew cactus fruits are delicious, bright and moist red? Who knew tomatoes originated out of Peru? We learned this and more from Henry. His story was just as inspiring: a vegetarian out of choice, he is as Peruvian as they come. With his lightly accented English, he told us of the time he spent in England before returning back to start a vegan restaurant in Lima. The food we ate had only hours before arrived from his farm 45 minutes outside of the city. Both RS and I agreed that this dinner was perhaps one of the richest experiences we've had in Lima.

On a different note. I will remember Lima. A lesson on moral boundaries and an epiphany but perhaps, this trip was meant to be a story from the moment it began. If its cryptic, it's meant to be.