thoughful moments

Here I sit, luxuriating in the sunshine, reading a book that put me in a thoughtfl mood, lulled by the silent house that sometimes seems alive with its raspy heater. I decided to write because it has been a while and because there were things  I wanted to say. First I wrote a letter, a letter to a friend long gone. As I wrote it I thought to myself, who writes letters these days, not even sentimental me. Letters to keep and cherish, letters to tear in anger, letters to burn with desperation. Eh, true, you can delete an email, you can reread it a million times, but clicking delete does not have the same effect.  So I wrote a letter, a letter full of news abot what is happening in life, what isnt etc, yo know the usual. Then I ended it nostagically. PS: Do you remember the checked levi’s shirt you had? I brought it all the way with me to US, when another newer, prettier shirt could have taken its place. Why did I do that, because that was all I had, that was all I remembered of the good times we had shared, the rest was too painful, too raw then. Now What do I remember, I poke at it with idle curosity, amazed at the lack of feeling. Surprise, surpise, time does heal. Now I only miss you when I wear that shirt, or when I wear the trinkets you brought me, or when I look at all the old pictures of us laughing and happy together. It was so long ago wasnt it? Its funny isnt it, how people think such passion should be reserved for lovers. I reserve it for everyone I call a friend. Luckily there are but a few who fall into that category.

Letter finished, sealed and unaddressed, put away, nowhere to send it, no mail goes that far. I then turned to cooking a meal, not just any meal, but something big, something rich, the scents of which would fill the house and some of my time. What use has an old lady of such rich cloying food, you shake your head. Only the old have need for sch food, for the time when such food was their daily nourshment. For the sake of using up those 24 hours that once they thought would never be enough. The need to fill the house and your belly with something of themselves, it feels otherwise like bones striped off flesh and feelings.

So, cook I did, dicing slowly carefully, peeling vegetables tenderly, as if it would hurt them. Paid attention to the sounds of oil sizzling, the vegetables in their mad uproar as they hit the pan, the smell, the glorious smell of food filling the house, forgetting for a moment, there was just me to feed, as there always had been, just me. Restless, waiting for dinner to finish cooking, I go over to the desk again, look through the letters, open a couple and find only advertisements for 0 APR. Not something I need at this point of my life. Forgetting dinner, having the smell of good food turn to burnt food.

And then sudden anger, the sunshine becomes overbright, the letters, a testament to sentimental twaddle and I tear them into two, dropping the pieces over the remains of what was to be dinner, relishing now the frozen meal in the freezer and the delete button, it hides so well, the inadequacy in todays woman.

..i know..change of pace for me, just something I wrote just now out of the blue, ofcouse no editing involved. DO comment if you hated/loved/thought it was pretentious crap

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new look

tell me what you think of the new look, I took the header picture myself! It is spliced together…a little spapse but me likes!

busy at the moment..more in a couple of days…stick with it!

tags AGAIN!!

ahh goody, I have wrested a tag yet again, am I only person who very guitilty enjoys tags? (psst dont tell anyone, its one of my baser desires ;))

Chandni jee got me to do 10 things from the letter A, so here , Ladies and Gentlemen, please, your thunderous applause to all the things, bright and beautiful from A, phew, atleast 10 of them:

Almonds: Ofcourse I had to start with food, would it have made sense any other way? My second favorite nut, the first bieng pecan. But, yeah a Kashi trail bar with almonds is heaven when you forget lunch!

Amazon: If food is involved can books be far behind? One of favorite sites to trawl when I have nothing better to do, and when I do have something better to do but am procrastinating..mm..is there a synonym of procrastination that starts with A?

Asimov: My all time favorite author, he is where I started reading science ficton and became a die hard fan of all thing called alternative fantasy, including but not limited to SF, Jeffery Ford, Wheel of Time, etc etc

Arrivals: I know, strange choice of words, but my favorite part of the airport, coming back, bringing some one back, waiting, the anticipation, muccch better than departures, specially when you know thats the last you will see of mom and dad for the next 2 years.

Aerobic activity: What? I know, true deviant I am aint I, first liking tags then saying I like working out..fine I admit it, I love working out and if you have noticed two of the headers up there, that beautiful thing that I have created in pink, are bout working out. And as I write this, am all sweaty, smelly and on top the world because I have just finished a spinning workout, where my heart rate went up to about 95% of its max and that rocked! yeah! workout!! Another that I love is running..umm this will convert into a post by itself so lets move on shall we?

Amrika: ofcourse I like it, I live here, not that I dont like a country that starts with “I”..ends with A actually, but that is not liking, that is love, a very fierce love, this for America namely US of A..fine I cheated, is liking, a more that mild, slightly sweet, slightly tart liking for a nation where I have lived for 3 years, learnt how to run, was brought down a peg or four and have understod myself much better!

Assinine: one of my favorite word to use to describe my own and other people’s behavior. I know I know, I am running outta things!!

AMOS: you knew i’d run out of things to say! but this is currently my favorite stats software, easy to use, with nice interface and intuitive buttons, mucchh better than LISREL which I probably didnt spell right either.

Ayn Rand: Much touted as the must read, everytime ou say Ayn Rand, everyone nods their wisely and syas they adorreee it. Well, I do too, I dont adore it, I probably have thought a lot about it, and seen the flaws in her writing as well, but think about it, its motivating Sceince Ficton, though we never see it as such, but that’s what she wrote, science fiction! BUt yeah I do believe some of it as tenets of a good life. I sense another blog building..move on

Airplanes: I love flying, more than flying, I love the takeoffs and landings, the thrust of power, gives me quite a rush, but sitting on my tush for 30 hours, aint that tough? ..i tried rythming..didnt work did it?

Adernaline:  the rush when you finish a blog and like what you wrote: If you want a tag, leave a comment..any takers? Madamon? I thought you needed inspiration? Mayur? lemme know..for now adios, ohhh that began with a too..hehe

matters of the heart

Every year, I write the same post, in different ways. It is that time of the year, when I cringe going to the mall, walmart and even school, because I am innundated by the sights that valetine’s day brings.  It makes me wish for soft romantic things which makes me feel that I am losing my touch. SInce the ever wanted man hasnt been found yet, my only hope is to grin and bear it and not get tempted by all that chocolate. Which is hard all by itself, val day or no val day. This year I am exceptionally sad because I will be going to watch “Man of La Mancha” , and it struck me that even though I always watch concerts alone, this time people will look at me with exceptional pity considering that its on val day and will be filled with couples.

Its not like I havent liked or been liked in return, but for the past few days my friend’s words are coming back to me again and again, loving or liking isnt e nough, you have got to want to make it work. The working part hasnt happened yet. They are all dysfunctional, maybe like me? Liking people not available is the game I play, liking me is a game of timepass they play. If not that it is somethng else, like an ex, or a lover stowed in another city, emotional baggage, lack of baggage and the fear of attaining some.

Maybe as I have aged..yes I feel old, I have accumalated a desperatenss, a I dont care belligerence, even a rigid idea of a mate.  It would be too much to ask for any poor guy to break through all of this, considering I am no beauty either, so no pipe dreams sweety!

Some say, it will happen, but the existence of a future to come doesnt make avoidance of chocolate any easier. Even bieng surrounded by bueatiful women, at whose feet men fall, or not so beautiful at whose feet men still fall, I find myself becoming more and more the watcher, the observer, the listener, the carer the giver, never the reciever.

Bleak post I know, wait till the 14th passes and I promise I will be nuts yet again, till then I leave you with this:

To My Valentine

Ogden Nash

More than a catbird hates a cat,
Or a criminal hates a clue,
Or the Axis hates the United States,
That’s how much I love you.

I love you more than a duck can swim,
And more than a grapefruit squirts,
I love you more than a gin rummy is a bore,
And more than a toothache hurts.

As a shipwrecked sailor hates the sea,
Or a juggler hates a shove,
As a hostess detests unexpected guests,
That’s how much you I love.

I love you more than a wasp can sting,
And more than the subway jerks,
I love you as much as a beggar needs a crutch,
And more than a hangnail irks.

I swear to you by the stars above,
And below, if such there be,
As the High Court loathes perjurious oathes,
That’s how you’re love by me.

Alas..still wanted, a man who would understand that and want to make it work!