Chicago-1

Noon, in Chicago, and I now know what the big deal about great weather is. The city looks beautiful today. I have the graduate on my mind. Of course, I'm listening to the Simon and Garfunkel.

Not.always.an.end.to.everything

I should be sleeping, after a nightmare half week. And it is 12:44 am.

I'm thinking. Of moments. Of unfinished moments. Of beautiful unfinished moments. Of moments that wont go. Of moments that leave a picture behind. The picture that can't be deleted. Conversation with a real supporter in times of sadness. Uninihibted, unconditional support. Smile of acknowledgement from across the room. Several times. Silent glance from someone who can sense you're sad, but chooses not to ask- just looks. Looks with concern. Looks with warmth. 45 seconds of romance in crowded room. Illegitimate romance. Happy good-byes. No words just two faces communicating whatever little needs to be said. Moments of silence. Of support, warmth, love, concern.

Megha decides not to die

This week isn't likely to be intense. But that doesn't stop me from coming in at 8:00am. Only better traffic can stop that. And coming in at 8:00 isn't so bad when you've been up since 5:45 am.

I'm bored of Facebook so I'm writing a blog post. Have you heard that before? I substitue Facebook and Blogger

And then, I have an entire bag of jelly beans in my handbag, which is keeping me on a perpetual sugar high, making me annoyingly chirpy at times.

I noticed something this morning while I drove to work. They were playing 'We didn't start the fire' on FM 95 and I was, as always, singing along aloud, checking myself out in the mirror and even dancing as much as the confines of the driver's seat permitted. I looked around and saw people in the 2 adjacent cars looking at me wonderously, like I was some sort of psycho. I don't blame them. But after that I couldn't help but notice all along the highway, that people heading to work don't smile. Whether it was passengers in Chartered buses, 8 young executives shoved in to a van, the pretty young girl driving her Santro or the accomplished senior manager chauffered in his Camry. I started to think why I always smile on my way to work, when I realized I smile on my back as well, and on my way to the coffee shop, and on my way to the salon, and on my way to the loo. Ok, I don't ALWAYS have a purposeless smile plastered on my face, but what I'm trying to say is my default state is a happy one. Not gleeful, excited, euphoric (that would require pot or Ecstacy), but happy.

Now, I'm at work and I'm asking myself why it is this way. There's a lot that's conspicuously missing in my life. I could work less than 70-80 hours a week, could be thinner, could have a beautiful boyfriend, clear skin, better clothes, nicer hair, kick-ass luck- all of these I want, but don't have. But still happy? Yes,happy. And what I do have- nice job, nice guys around me, strong support group, pretty dresses and of course, good music- comes in probably because its attracted to cheeriness inside.

Yes, Happy, but obviously not content, which still isn't so bad, given the number of grumpy faces I see every morning.

Did I forget to mention I had a kick-ass weekend. I made appetizers- Devil eggs and Chicken Croquettes- for 8 people, spent lots of good time with Vani and met up with a lot of people I knew back in IIM. I met some of them after nearly 4 years! Others, who I have been running in to on and off, were great too. Awesome party, familiar friendly faces and some more.....and that is all.

Overall, TOUCHWOOD!!!


I'm 6 jelly beans and 2 gummies down, plugging my ear phones on, to listen to REM. The title is inspired by a fictional character Veronika who had almost everything, just like me, but not enough, just like me. She decided to die.

Picture this

You live in Algren, a little town in Southern Canada, with a population of no more than 1,500. You work for $250 a week at the mayor’s office, which really doesn’t require much. Answer the phone and think of ways to make Algren look prettier- may be plant Petunias at the side walk, or re-paint the water tower. But you’re happy you’re doing it well! While walking a few houses down to work you drop your little daughter, Summer Feelin’ over at your boyfriend’s (and her father’s) place. As you walk down further, you get a whiff of hot, freshly baked cakes from the nearby café, the only café, where you head out for an occasional coffee since most of the time you brew coffee at home. In the afternoon, after work you pick up Summer Feelin’ and her father and head home. Papa is by now looking forward to seeing Summer Feelin and mum can’t wait to catch up on the day over pots of coffee. Later in the evening, you and your boyfriends head out to the farm at the outskirts. You spend hours on a large pile of hay, stare at the setting sun, make love, share a cigarette, listen to the birds chirping the night in, wonder how everyone approves of your relationship, talk about Summer Feelin and what she might like for dinner today….may be Chicken casserole and boiled potatoes ,,,,,

I’m a city girl but for this moment, I want to live in Algren. For a few days while I was sick, it moved me away from the noisy, complex, exciting and very colorful world of my own.

Sigh!

My dark circles make me look like a racoon. Sigh! Its just sad how perfect faces never develop such blemishes: its only the imperfect ones that gets more imperfect. Any way, I think they lend more personality to my face- you know interesting faces vs pretty dumb ones. I get the prize for an interesting face.

And then I get a message from FYI. Sigh, every once in a while, dear FYI, I miss what I knew of you.You know, I liked you more after you left, because I now know I miss people I knew for a few weeks way more than others who I spent a lot more, and seemingly significant time with- because its the spirit and not the time of the association, that makes me your fan!


Any way, back to my life. Mum's back, with my favourite Clinique cream and a summer dress (at a size I can't mention, honest. But a size that wouldn't have fit me last year).

The week was eventful. At the start of the week, I spent my unstaffed time very usefully, traveling the length and breadth of Delhi, literally internalizing what I love about it. Day one, I hung out in South, visited the book store and went for Papa's coursemate's son's wedding. Tuesday, I went to Lutyens Delhi, spent a few hours reading Kennedy at Cafe Turtle followed by an hour at Bangla Saheb, causing tremendous confusion on what to do with the prashad- eat it before or having it blessed or otherwise. Day three- kaka and yuko joined me in our tour to Chandni Chowk, devouring Paranthas and Kulfi. We went ahead to the red fort but by the time we got there, we decided against checking the place out and chilled in the lawns instead. Now all these places aren't new to me. I've been there several times, but they're so close to my heart, I need get a dose every once in a while. Now, I'm staffed on a new piece, in a new industry with a new manager. So far, all good on that front.I need to sleep on the weekend!

And some where during the course of this post I decided I will NOT worry about my dark circles. I choose to sleep less- there's so much else to do. Imperfections are cool, plus worrying about my face? Hey, I'm not that sorta girl any way.

I'm going to read Dragons of Eden now, which gives me lots of good dope on intelligence, the human mind and evolution.


Edited to add: One upside of dark circles is I NEVER need more than a line of Kohl to make my eyes smoky (and tempting)

Not thinking about tomorrow

The title's borrowed from Kid Rock.

All right, so I'm done with a 10 months long case. I thought I'd die on this case (because of how long it was, not because it was difficult), but it looks like we made it.

I'm wrapping it up now, after a phenomenal meeting with the Chairman earlier this week.

Not a lot happening at my end, or actually a lot happening- depends on how you look at it. I had a splendid weekend in Bombay. I spent most of it meeting old friends, and chilling with Vani, including getting happy over wine and cooking. Also, checked out a few neat places to hang out in Bombay. Net net, I came back with 2 new (almost new) pairs of shoes, one summer dress, the skill to cook Jeera aloo in the microwave, and a few good friends to count on, in the city.

On my flight to Bombay, I ran into 2 interesting gentlemen. One was serious, and the other quite happy. I met them in the shuttle on the way to the plane. Obviously, I kept rambling about why I was heading to Bombay, what's nice about both Delhi vs Bombay and how airports have become a nightmare now. On my way out of Bombay airport, the happy dude (who was a round, trade commissioner or something from Europe/North America- won't say anymore) gave me his card, asked me to give him a call if I wanted to get dinner, winked at me and left. A bit ewww! The serious guy was nicer and clearly very sharp. We spoke a bit, and then he gave me his card, asking me to stay in touch (and not so he could do dinner with me- not only am I much younger, but he's totally out of my league). He turned out to be the ex-Head of a large firm and now runs another reasonably big firm. By the end of it, I liked the serious guy way more than the happy one. Sort of inspiring! You know, when you work in the world of business, corporate and all, its difficult to not turn into a freak if you don't occasionally run in to inspiring people like these.


Mum leaves for the States tonight. Its the first time I can't think of what she should bring back for me. I was there only early last month, so I did stock up on Express blouses, sweet smelling slippery smooth lotions from B&BW and VS and lost titles from little known publishing houses. While I'm on that, I picked up a book called "Lets call the whole thing off" from Brussels airport. Its a collection of stories on Love Quarrels- not just boy-girl love, but even best friends, partners in same sex relationships, and parents. Any way, I'll decide closer to the date, but as of now, I can't think of anything I really need or want.


Plus, I started Yoga. You know, to get a Jennifer Aniston type of Yoga-body. I'm about 18 kilos away but I'm hopeful. Ok, not 18 kilos but easily 10. I AM about a stone lighter than I was a year back, but that's not enough to keep me happy. I don't like stick-thin though. I like it on firang bodies but Indian bodies look nicer fuller. Any way I',m not much into how people look. I find perfectly fat people attractive too. What I don't like is the unfit-types. Like the guy who promptly runs towards the couch in the restaurant, and plonks himself there. He literally needs to be extracted out of his seat as he clearly doesn't see a reason to move his ass once he's fit it firmly (firmly?) into the couch. I like fit- fit is hot! Obessive is not. I once used to have a really good friend who would often comment on even the slightest gain in my weight- in an almost disdainful way. Like I was gaining weight because I was unfit, lazy or a glutton! Any way, this one was quite a bitch at times.

The boys (they're actually chicks but its too SATC types to say that, so I call them boys)and I are planning a weekend thing, to do a repeat of Pondicherry. We owe it to the world. I don't think I've said it in so many words, but my school friends are filled with awesomeness. They're quite a solid lot.

Overall, I'm in a bit of a spot. Most of life is great. Rather, life these days is more exciting than I had ever wanted it to be. I mean, I always wanted life in my twenties to be one hell of a ride, and I think this is the point when I can say I'm there. It reminds me of Veronika Decides to Die....just like her, I have it quite nice these days (touchwood!!!)....the only difference being that I don't plan on OD-ing on sleeping pills.

Its probably the right time to listen to All Summer Long.

Is believing in it the only way to have it

Its Saturday, 7th March. I’m standing on the lower half of the escalator, smiling because I’m nearly at the boarding gate # 47, 5 minutes before my flight is scheduled to depart from JFK airport for Delhi. I’m smilingly messaging my Manager that I made my flight and will be able to make the Monday morning meeting despite the flight goof up. I hear a distant rumbling sound but blame my senses for being tired after the frantic 2 hour dash from Newport to JFK, changing trains, fighting with a bunch of college boys over a taxi, and losing to them, finally getting a taxi at Christopher Street, then breaking down when the cab gets stuck in traffic 2 kms away from the airport, hunting for my suitcase in the baggage storage and finally giving up when the air train takes 5 minutes longer at Terminal 7, convincing me I’ll never reach T-8. The rumbling sound gets louder and I take a break from the blackberry to turn to see where its coming from. A big black suitcase is tumbling down the long escalator, looking bigger as it gets closer to my face. I turn around, and run down the escalator but the speed at which the sound gets louder is faster than mine. I barely manage to turn left on the last step of the escalator and miss the suitcase by an inch. Its about 4.5 minutes to my flight now and I’m sweating. The events of the last few days flash past me as I drag my slightly fearful body to gate # 47.

I stayed over at Iyer’s at Newport last night. We spent the evening yesterday with Rubber and Nithya at a Rissotto place on 6th Ave, after which we went over to play poker at Newport with a group of ex-IIM banker types. Iyer and I sat up all night, chatting about people, rather amusing ourselves with funny stories, and some times overwhelming stories about almost every individual we have in common

Before I met Iyer last evening, I was in Manhattan. I was going to spend only a day in New York. I spent the afternoon with Ahmed. I met him at the airport waiting for the sky train- we both found each other looking familiar- he offered to help me find my way from JFK to Manhattan. Ahmed was nice- he’s a second generation Indian living in the States, a medicine student now doing his PhD, and works at the airport part time. We spent an hour on the train, stopped at Grand Central and then hung out at Times Square. I mentioned I love Dunkin Donuts so we spent another 30 minutes looking for quintessential American coffee. We eventually settled on Starbucks where we spoke about our lives, backgrounds, stories, favourite evenings, current relationship status, interests outside of work, food we liked and favourite places in the world. He asked me if the India I live in is actually what they show in movies like Fashion. In our conversations, I lost two Metro cards, dropped my bag a few times and almost got run over. Each time we crossed the streets of Manhattan he would hold my hand, chiding me hopelessly for not looking before crossing, as if he knew I had been a careless pedestrian my whole life. He knew I had plans to meet Iyer that evening so at about half past six, we said good bye to each other, not excchanging contact details and still not imagining how two complete strangers ended up spending half a day in NYC together, grinning more than laughing throughout.

Yesterday, morning of 6th March, I finished 7 days of training in Miami, which is another interesting account of how a firm can manage to recruit people, across 40 offices, all of whom have so many characteristics in common, and get them together in one place.

On 27th Feb, BB and I reached Miami after ~30 hours of flying from Delhi to Miami, via Brussels and NYC. I was generally kicked about the whole trip because of all the niceness the trip was filled with. To start with, this was the first time since Bali that BB and I were travelling together. Also, both of us had managed to upgrade ourselves to First Class, which I have to say is an altogether different level of luxury, and I’m afraid is sort of a forbidden fruit. And then the goodness started to follow.

At the immigration check in Delhi airport, the officer gave me a verbal pat on my back for not fleeing India to earn in dollars overseas. Then on our way, I met a lovely American lady who didn’t hesitate to complement me on my henna. The immigration officer at JFK looked serious, but did mumble a ‘That’s’ some smile’ when I flashed all 32 teeth into the immigration check camera; another African American dude curiously asked BB and me about the Henna and whether I had got married recently; Finally, after collecting my bags at JFK and before I boarded the flight to Miami I was held up randomly for special baggage screening. The officer was ~24 years old, cute with South Asian features, and clearly amused at the condition I had kept my passport in. BB thought he was cute too. I didn't know if he was Indian but remembered reading a Muslim name on his badge- Akbar or may be Ahmed. We left, smiling to ourselves for having had a great onward journey to the States.

I’m now on my way back, lying on a flat bed in Jet First, probably flying somewhere over the North Atlantic. Every one around me is asleep. I’m wide awake, wondering if life can either be easy or interesting. The Dev D soundtrack is in my ears.

Keeping it alive

I was never one to take myself or my relationships too seriously. I was never frivolous about them, but didn’t obsess over them either. Always doted on; loved like a baby by friends, boyfriends, family and bosses alike, I assumed if they were to leave they will be back. And if they didn’t come back, I’d call, cry, plead but eventually get them back, even if not in the same role. So even when I did break up, I would totally be friends and wouldn’t have it any other way. There were of course, occasions when people left my life and never came back, but these weren’t people I cared much for any way. And in return, I learnt what I now call ‘loyalty’. I knew I was just lucky to have all the love and hadn’t done anything fundamentally right to deserve it. I thanked the universe by developing unconditional loyalty towards these people. I’d stand up for these people before god. I still will.


Obviously as we grow older, things change. The universe starts challenging us more. I now have relationships that I won’t know how to bring back, if I were to lose them. Some people I value the most today, are those that I can be a brat with but don’t really have a claim on. Keeping relationships alive is no longer straight forward. The sense of permanence has been lost.


I was reading Skimpy’s blog the other day. He wrote about love, Jab We Met and dreams and relationships. As is more often than not, I didn’t like what he wrote- the characteristic cynicism, racist remarks and other nastiness. But I loved the note on which it ended. You can read it at his blog, but I’ll type it out again in case this linking thing doesn’t work:

i believe people enter your life exactly at a point when u need them to grow together and exit/fade away from your life at the right time, enabling you to move ahead. its sad but true.

It’s easy to see how this line fits in to your life if you’ve seen a relationship crumble before you, for reasons you still don’t know. I’m not referring to boyfriend-girlfriend relationships only here. A best friend, a temporary boss, a fellow traveler you spend 24 hours with on a plane, a complete stranger who you start a relationship with knowing fully well its going to be around only a month, or some one you think you’re built to last with. Many of these are people you have no claim on. Old friends remain, the best friend stays, family is indispensable, but there other few may not remain- in the same form. But it doesn’t end then. They may leave my life (and I may leave theira), but I continue to live a bit of them, and they continue to live a bit of me.

I’ve met them at a time when I need to know them and they need to know me. their role in my life is significant, but a fleeting one. The physical presence of this relationship may be transitory. And when they leave, there will be closure- closure in what we see and feel today. They fade away. But the rest continues. There’s a part of them I’ll live on. There is a bit of their life I’m already living, and will live all the way.

I’m living their life as I learn to save emails and when I stop myself from responding impulsively to gossip. When I laugh with my family and when I coach the new person in office. When I run 4 kms and when I spend Saturday evenings watching re-runs on Zee Café. When I write honest posts and when I bravely reject pseudo-intellectualism. When I travel alone to remote places, love French food, get regular pedicures and when I say ‘No lah, hardly matters!’

I’m on the road back from Nasik to Bombay. There’s a mild ache in my arms from an hour of kayaking this morning. My body is breathing, having spent a day in a little vineyard in Western India, with a book, the greenest grass and cold water to occasionally dip my feet in. Windows are down, wind blowing through my hair and I’m listening to The Walk of Life.