Friday, September 19, 2008

Of Tobacco and nothing else...

So while all my colleagues (I work for an NGO) have really depressing looking desk calendars, my workstation has one from Taj, a vestige from my corporate past. And this month it has given my desk a nice looking young man. It is out of place with this delirious and dust ridden place. Like red in the desert and white in a coal mine. The frustration, this time around is deep rooted. I want to climb the rooftop and scream “NO MORE TOBACCO”. But Alas, the Boss has different plans for me.

Monday, September 08, 2008

Moving again, soon

My nomadic heart has been thumping, rather hard off late. The little wheel in my heel has been yearning to roll again. So soon, I may find myself gone again, to discover new rivers, seas, plains, mountains and of course, the bane of our world- people. I don’t keep a close watch on what I think, I think and it’s done. Rarely without surprising, albeit happy repercussions. Hence, the lack of close watch. Someone told me once “you do whatever gets you off Bansal”. Kinda true.

So, am listening to a song which reminds me of Lakeside whenever it plays. Those long nights of lone contemplation, the best of its kind; and the nights of solitude, the loner’s love.

Then I flicker back to the current day, typing away on a bright red computer. Where is my beloved tattered old handmade paper book? It symbolises my life- been there done that, still around, still learning and still teaching. It stands in the rumble on my workstation, the one place where it would really never be used, waiting to be rescued for another story. Ah, the bright red comp, for all its wondrous charms can never beat that old book.

The week ahead is going to be exciting, exhilarating and definitely draining. I’ve been waiting for it, but not quite ready for it yet. My first case being filed, my first draft.

Phase 1, Phase 2, Phase 3 and well, Phase 4

The sound of the trains whizzing by has become an indispensable part of my life. This city which gave me a writer’s block, refuses to let me have my flow back. I have my steaming chai, the loved companion in my hands, while the singer from the long gone yore singing his famous walking the line song. And this time, am travelling. The moment I step out of Delhi, I am able to write again...

I ask for random things all the time. The other day I wished from the bottom of my heart to go to Bombay, and the same evening saw me packing my bags to the city on work associated trip. Then again I wished “Cocaine” to play on the radio, and viola- it started playing 5 minutes later. Yesterday, to a visiting friend I mentioned a must-watch movie, the “Match Point” and castigated him for not watching it. We switched on the t.v and there it was playing on the Star Movies. So here is a story of futile wishes being fulfilled left right and centre. Nothing happens when I wish for the millions, etc.

Life, from the earlier black and white, has all the colours I wanted in it now. But at the cost of my personal happiness, all for the professional satisfaction, which I may or may not have yet achieved. Even when I had no time to myself, I used to love my days. One year went past me at the speed of lightening. I sit, counting days now. There are the greens outside again, on my way to the lovely city which I would always call home no matter where I go, not just because my parents live there. They say everything in the right measures can bring happiness and contentment.

Another friend, a dear one at that, sitting all the way in Sierra Leone, called yesterday and told me to get out of rut I have made my life. She literally held me by my ears and forced me to see the grim reality. She pointed out that there are four phases in professional life, apparently. With drastic moderations and the liberty to amend her philosophy, I say that the 4 phases should read as:

Phase 1: When we are considering all the options that lay in front of us and contemplate, open one door while keeping the others slightly ajar

Phase 2: We think about our decision, finding happiness, sadness, misery, failure, success all at one go. We stop thinking about the other doors

Phase 3: We stand where we are, wondering if the decision we took in Phase 1 was reasonable and correct. This is probably the toughest because we doubt our career decision

Phase 4: The trickiest, because in the end either we stay at Phase 3 for a long time and decide that what we chose was the best, or scarily, go back to Phase 1 and take a long hard look at the other doors, find courage within ourselves to experiment and open the another door.

Now, yours truly is truly a class apart for she had barely gone through Phase 1 that she jumped to Phase 4. Anyhow, the milk has been spilt and well, it made a pretty pattern on the carpet. Someone says they think I’m happy, some say I’m miserable. Confusion, utter and utmost, is the only answer here. I hope to wake up to the ubiquitous dawn after dusk anytime now. Snooze please

Wednesday, September 03, 2008

Cherry Tree

I wondered for a long lingering moment. My simple mind was searching the answer to one of the toughest questions of the mortal world. What is the most perfect thing in the world? My mind wandered through the alleys I had walked, the museums I had seen, the books I had read and the wonders of the new century that I had experienced. I stumbled upon the evasive answer in the myriad thoughts and memories, for me the most perfect thing is a cherry tree in blossom.

The sharp bend jerked me back to the reality. I was on the way to the airport, to the Bombay airport, about to leave my favourite city yet again. I didn’t like the idea of returning from the old muggy city, then as if a note from the past, the cabbie started playing an old cassette- the song was- unbelievably so- “eh dil hai mushkil jeena yahan, zara bachke zara hatke yeh hai Bombay meri jaan”.