This is a beautiful piece I came across: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q5IWf1fDSNg
Monday, September 11, 2017
Sunday, September 10, 2017
01, 00: Countdown ends
I had begun this countdown one tiring day at work. I had decided that, from that day, I would spend exactly these many days on the job and in Pune.
It turns out that I quit the job and left Pune much earlier.
The countdown, though, was interesting.
A friend had told me about a man called Jonathan Harris. He had started this website/ blog called www.cowbird.com. He wanted to take a picture to record each day. That was the project. I think it is like a quote by Virginia Woolfe (also told by my pal), "We marry because we don't want to live an unwitnessed life." (or we need a witness to our life - something like that.)
I wanted to write something every day so that each day of the countdown, as I was preparing for my exit from the job, Pune, and the familiarity of life that I knew it, I was still recording something. Small, beautiful, sad, ordinary, special - whatever. I was recording that.
I wanted to pay respect to the time that I had in Pune, in my job, with my colleagues and friends. Writing about each day was a way of paying respect to the hidden meaning that the hours brought.
Today the countdown ends. I live to tell the tale.
It was good. Now it is over.
Maybe for the rest of the year, I will not have a countdown. I will simply ramble and sketch out my days.
2018 - maybe I will begin a different countdown again.
It turns out that I quit the job and left Pune much earlier.
The countdown, though, was interesting.
A friend had told me about a man called Jonathan Harris. He had started this website/ blog called www.cowbird.com. He wanted to take a picture to record each day. That was the project. I think it is like a quote by Virginia Woolfe (also told by my pal), "We marry because we don't want to live an unwitnessed life." (or we need a witness to our life - something like that.)
I wanted to write something every day so that each day of the countdown, as I was preparing for my exit from the job, Pune, and the familiarity of life that I knew it, I was still recording something. Small, beautiful, sad, ordinary, special - whatever. I was recording that.
I wanted to pay respect to the time that I had in Pune, in my job, with my colleagues and friends. Writing about each day was a way of paying respect to the hidden meaning that the hours brought.
Today the countdown ends. I live to tell the tale.
It was good. Now it is over.
Maybe for the rest of the year, I will not have a countdown. I will simply ramble and sketch out my days.
2018 - maybe I will begin a different countdown again.
Friday, September 08, 2017
02
Don't know. Felt like dressing up today. I am wearing a black cotton salwar-kameez with a colorful dupatta. It's nice and fresh. I love bright, fresh cotton.
Anyway, I dropped off my parents and uncle and aunty at the airport. They are off now and it really feels like they will have a good time. Gosh! Destiny...my parents in Japan!
There's a strange thing that happened. Some moons ago, I was almost working on an assignment for a Japanese company. I was so besotted with the idea that I kept a bunch of Japanese-related stuff around me. I wasn't exactly working on visualization but hey, there were sketches of cherry trees, etc. I guess my folks visualized it stronger than I did.So they are off. :-)
Anyway, things are good.
Anyway, I dropped off my parents and uncle and aunty at the airport. They are off now and it really feels like they will have a good time. Gosh! Destiny...my parents in Japan!
There's a strange thing that happened. Some moons ago, I was almost working on an assignment for a Japanese company. I was so besotted with the idea that I kept a bunch of Japanese-related stuff around me. I wasn't exactly working on visualization but hey, there were sketches of cherry trees, etc. I guess my folks visualized it stronger than I did.So they are off. :-)
Anyway, things are good.
Wednesday, September 06, 2017
03
This is an article that I would like to read but won't because there isn't enough time: https://www.theguardian.com/news/2017/sep/05/how-science-found-a-way-to-help-coma-patients-communicate?CMP=fb_gu
My family is leaving for Japan tomorrow.
Some friends may come over the weekend unless I need to leave the city for some work.
In the last few months of the year, I intend to get fit. My step towards being that way is meditating. Mum had a beautiful string of amber-colored rosaries which I have been using since the last two days. Will do some more meditation today. In fact, will do it right now, make some coffee and get back to work.
Help me, Lord!
My family is leaving for Japan tomorrow.
Some friends may come over the weekend unless I need to leave the city for some work.
In the last few months of the year, I intend to get fit. My step towards being that way is meditating. Mum had a beautiful string of amber-colored rosaries which I have been using since the last two days. Will do some more meditation today. In fact, will do it right now, make some coffee and get back to work.
Help me, Lord!
Tuesday, September 05, 2017
15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 09, 08, 07, 06, 05, 04
A couple of days ago, I had thought of shutting down the blog.
A month ago, I had thought of selling off my car.
Nearly a year ago, I had thought of ending my life.
I think of these three incidents because these thoughts had come to me from a place of very deep, peaceful sadness. I can't explain what this sadness feels like or what this peace feels like. I don't know why I was making such big, final decisions and on the basis of what. Maybe I forgot what all of this meant. Maybe there was no interest in continuing to guard this blog and what it stood for, my car and what that stood for, and my life and what that also stood for.
They all just felt like very big, heavy, wobbly stickers that were peeling off.
Anyway, I am writing the blog now.
My car is still there. I haven't driven it yet but I haven't sold it either.
My life - well, it still has all kinds of emotions and adventures and frustrations embroidered onto it. Haven't ended it.
My decision to continue with all three also came from a place of peaceful sadness. A gentle acknowledgment that I don't know if I am worthy of all the plans I made for each of these things...but as long as there are days when I will breathe and the sun will shine, I will remain with these things.
With a lot of tenderness and humility, I move onwards.
A month ago, I had thought of selling off my car.
Nearly a year ago, I had thought of ending my life.
I think of these three incidents because these thoughts had come to me from a place of very deep, peaceful sadness. I can't explain what this sadness feels like or what this peace feels like. I don't know why I was making such big, final decisions and on the basis of what. Maybe I forgot what all of this meant. Maybe there was no interest in continuing to guard this blog and what it stood for, my car and what that stood for, and my life and what that also stood for.
They all just felt like very big, heavy, wobbly stickers that were peeling off.
Anyway, I am writing the blog now.
My car is still there. I haven't driven it yet but I haven't sold it either.
My life - well, it still has all kinds of emotions and adventures and frustrations embroidered onto it. Haven't ended it.
My decision to continue with all three also came from a place of peaceful sadness. A gentle acknowledgment that I don't know if I am worthy of all the plans I made for each of these things...but as long as there are days when I will breathe and the sun will shine, I will remain with these things.
With a lot of tenderness and humility, I move onwards.
Wednesday, August 23, 2017
75, 74, 73, 72, 71, 70, 69, 68, 67, 66, 65, 64, 63, 62, 61, 60, 59, 58, 57, 56, 55, 54, 53, 52, 51, 50, 49, 48, 47, 46, 45, 44, 43, 42, 41, 40, 39, 38, 37, 36, 35, 34, 33, 32, 31, 30, 29, 28, 27, 26, 25, 24, 23, 22, 21, 20, 19, 18, 17, 16
Lots of things are happening.
Hence I have not been writing. But I think I will write a little more nowadays.
Hence I have not been writing. But I think I will write a little more nowadays.
Wednesday, June 21, 2017
77, 76
I am very very tired.So emotionally exhausted. Really I am getting by by just taking a walk and noticing a flower here, a stream there, etc. I think I have to take it slow now.
Sunday, June 18, 2017
92, 91, 90, 89, 88, 87, 86, 85, 84, 83, 82, 81, 80, 79,78
Some happy things have been happening. Feel excited and happy. Lots of work. Had an accident. Hurt the leg but it's okay. Watched Raabta. I liked it.
Need to get more orderly about my work. Will make a list and work steadily to stroke off each topic in the list. It should be good.
I have eaten some really good stuff lately. Very good pork and meat stuff at Boteco.
Went to the coin museum at Reserve Bank of India. Was wonderful. I love many, many things happening around me now.
Things will only improve.
Need to get more orderly about my work. Will make a list and work steadily to stroke off each topic in the list. It should be good.
I have eaten some really good stuff lately. Very good pork and meat stuff at Boteco.
Went to the coin museum at Reserve Bank of India. Was wonderful. I love many, many things happening around me now.
Things will only improve.
Tuesday, May 30, 2017
95, 94, 93
I am a little conflicted about people. Around me, I see people try. I think overall, people try to be good. When they slip up, they do not know how to forgive themselves and I think they pass on that pain and hurt to someone else.
Every day, every single day, old friends - friends you are fond of - family - nodding acquaintances - your city, your world - will give you plenty of reasons to get angry, reject them, shut them off. I think it is important to soothe yourself and remember that we are part of a collective.
Some days this is tough.
Friday, May 26, 2017
Thursday, May 25, 2017
99, 98, 97
A more efficient way to pack for trips between Bombay and Pune is required.
Yesterday I was texting someone about a strange event - of when I had had an eerie experience at the Race Course. Maybe my mind started playing tricks but I got the scent of stables. Reminded me of the line from Richard Bach's 'Illusions' where he says something along the lines of why it's futile to miss friends. Because as soon as you think of them, aren't they already there?
Some sweet things are happening.
Also, I was just thinking that we don't remember when we were born and then we don't know when we are going to die and how can we think of anything that happens in between as reality?
Interesting that I thought of this after citing an observation from 'Illusions'.
Yesterday I was texting someone about a strange event - of when I had had an eerie experience at the Race Course. Maybe my mind started playing tricks but I got the scent of stables. Reminded me of the line from Richard Bach's 'Illusions' where he says something along the lines of why it's futile to miss friends. Because as soon as you think of them, aren't they already there?
Some sweet things are happening.
Also, I was just thinking that we don't remember when we were born and then we don't know when we are going to die and how can we think of anything that happens in between as reality?
Interesting that I thought of this after citing an observation from 'Illusions'.
Sunday, May 21, 2017
101, 100
quick scribbles in lower casing. mutton biryani. there was kheer cooked for a couple of friends - cashews and vermicelli. the milk was boiled with ground cashews to thicken it. it was so superb.connected with some really nice people online. was informed of bira beer. will try it soon. started reading power of the subconscious mind. time to clear up a lot of stuff so gave away a few things to my neighbor. i feel that lots of good things will happen.
Thursday, May 18, 2017
102: It was such a day that from the furnace of all that was difficult, I will pick out the flowers.
I had a fun conversation with my friend, J. It was about work but it felt so good just connecting with her - looking forward to the time when she comes to Pune and if she has her way, we'll look for a place to live in KP. It will be so nice!
I went to check out two homes in Pune, where I will be moving to. One is a friend's home. Humble, slightly darkly lit, almost unfurnished, kitchen is hardly set up, no curtain rods. It may be nice to go really simple for a while. Also, I would be living with a boy. That, erm, will be a change of pace.
The other home has three other girls living there with a HUGE terrace. And by huge, I mean HUGE! It got my attention and my fancy. Had a lovely chat with the main girl who put up the post. It was nice. I like living around girls. One of them seemed grouchy and if I shift there, I think she and I will be the one that will have the most in common together. But man, that terrace!
On the way to the first home, I passed by a little lane where the flowers were pretty and purple! And so purple! The petals just seemed to be filled with all colors wanting to be purple! They were purple like existence and they were purple like aspiration.
My heart felt very heavy. So I went to Peter Donuts for a hazelnut coffee, which I love! Hazelnut cappuccino is my coffee equivalent of khichdi. Very feel-good.
I went to Crossword where I bought the book on the sub-conscious mind by Joseph Murphy. A friend really recommended it highly. I went to the Crossword in Aundh where the greatest mysteries are usually written on the faces of the assistants when you ask them where to get a particular book. This time was no different. I thought they were out of it. But then, a huge carton was unpacked filled with this title! It's some marketing if you get the universe to conspire! :-)
What other things are nice?
Had really tasty poha and tea for dinner.
Had a very nice, chilled glass of pomegranate juice.
Read a status update where a friend's brother is going on a pilgrimage with his wife. Felt really peaceful when I read that.
Parents are safe. Spoke with them.
Fit into a skirt comfortably that was tight some months ago.
Feels like the story will change.
I went to check out two homes in Pune, where I will be moving to. One is a friend's home. Humble, slightly darkly lit, almost unfurnished, kitchen is hardly set up, no curtain rods. It may be nice to go really simple for a while. Also, I would be living with a boy. That, erm, will be a change of pace.
The other home has three other girls living there with a HUGE terrace. And by huge, I mean HUGE! It got my attention and my fancy. Had a lovely chat with the main girl who put up the post. It was nice. I like living around girls. One of them seemed grouchy and if I shift there, I think she and I will be the one that will have the most in common together. But man, that terrace!
On the way to the first home, I passed by a little lane where the flowers were pretty and purple! And so purple! The petals just seemed to be filled with all colors wanting to be purple! They were purple like existence and they were purple like aspiration.
My heart felt very heavy. So I went to Peter Donuts for a hazelnut coffee, which I love! Hazelnut cappuccino is my coffee equivalent of khichdi. Very feel-good.
I went to Crossword where I bought the book on the sub-conscious mind by Joseph Murphy. A friend really recommended it highly. I went to the Crossword in Aundh where the greatest mysteries are usually written on the faces of the assistants when you ask them where to get a particular book. This time was no different. I thought they were out of it. But then, a huge carton was unpacked filled with this title! It's some marketing if you get the universe to conspire! :-)
What other things are nice?
Had really tasty poha and tea for dinner.
Had a very nice, chilled glass of pomegranate juice.
Read a status update where a friend's brother is going on a pilgrimage with his wife. Felt really peaceful when I read that.
Parents are safe. Spoke with them.
Fit into a skirt comfortably that was tight some months ago.
Feels like the story will change.
Wednesday, May 17, 2017
103
Last two were rough.
Came across a video on Facebook where a girl who has escaped from North Korea is telling us about the life there.It is an international convention of some sort. She says that while they were crossing the Mongol border, ready to die if need be but escape North Korea nevertheless, they were stopped by Chinese guards. This girl saw her mother raped. People clapped.
A long, long time ago, I had seen a video of Bipasha Basu in the US. She was there at some Independence Day function organized by an NRI community there. She took the mike and said that on the way to the function, a group of the organizers had molested her and had behaved really badly with her. She was on the podium with a mike. She was wearing a white salwaar kameez. It was Independence Day. In the US. She had a mike. She was on the mike saying all this. People around her clicked pictures and were cheering her. It came to a point where someone in the group told her something and she qualified her statement saying that she did not think that all NRIs were like that but a few were. She had a mike. They were clapping.
I finished reading Milan Kundera's 'Identity'. It's the first Kundera, I read. Liked it. It is excruciatingly slow, soft, and sad. You sense the decay of the couples' relationship he is writing about.
The boy - that producer's son. What will he grow up thinking of his mother - the one his father has blamed in his suicide note? He wrote a post. On killing himself. They liked it.
I ate lychees yesterday.
Came across a video on Facebook where a girl who has escaped from North Korea is telling us about the life there.It is an international convention of some sort. She says that while they were crossing the Mongol border, ready to die if need be but escape North Korea nevertheless, they were stopped by Chinese guards. This girl saw her mother raped. People clapped.
A long, long time ago, I had seen a video of Bipasha Basu in the US. She was there at some Independence Day function organized by an NRI community there. She took the mike and said that on the way to the function, a group of the organizers had molested her and had behaved really badly with her. She was on the podium with a mike. She was wearing a white salwaar kameez. It was Independence Day. In the US. She had a mike. She was on the mike saying all this. People around her clicked pictures and were cheering her. It came to a point where someone in the group told her something and she qualified her statement saying that she did not think that all NRIs were like that but a few were. She had a mike. They were clapping.
I finished reading Milan Kundera's 'Identity'. It's the first Kundera, I read. Liked it. It is excruciatingly slow, soft, and sad. You sense the decay of the couples' relationship he is writing about.
The boy - that producer's son. What will he grow up thinking of his mother - the one his father has blamed in his suicide note? He wrote a post. On killing himself. They liked it.
I ate lychees yesterday.
Tuesday, May 16, 2017
104
Today I heard the news of a Marathi film producer who had committed suicide after putting up a Facebook post about ending his life. In fact, he also got riled that people were liking the post but not reaching out to him.So, he apparently chastised his followers, consumed poison, and died.
What struck me is that a couple of days ago (or was it yesterday), I had put up a post asking for some kind of prayer to help me get through the news of the raped girl. One friend sent me a hug. I got several views on that post but no comments. Since I have been on social media, especially blogger, for a long while now I know that views don't really translate into connect. In fact, in every office that I have worked, people have read my blog but never come right out to say that they have read it. Even for the posts where I expressed distress, etc., the people who read my blog by night and made eye contact with me by day did not reach out. I wonder if they were embarassed. Anyway, I think that when you write to express something, the expression itself must be the coping mechanism. When the anxiety is out, the strength unspools. It is best not to expect commiseration.
I feel really sad about the producer. He had reached out.
What struck me is that a couple of days ago (or was it yesterday), I had put up a post asking for some kind of prayer to help me get through the news of the raped girl. One friend sent me a hug. I got several views on that post but no comments. Since I have been on social media, especially blogger, for a long while now I know that views don't really translate into connect. In fact, in every office that I have worked, people have read my blog but never come right out to say that they have read it. Even for the posts where I expressed distress, etc., the people who read my blog by night and made eye contact with me by day did not reach out. I wonder if they were embarassed. Anyway, I think that when you write to express something, the expression itself must be the coping mechanism. When the anxiety is out, the strength unspools. It is best not to expect commiseration.
I feel really sad about the producer. He had reached out.
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