Chiffonesque

I am working bloody hard now. It is so exhausting that I can't believe it. I literally can't. It is beyond disbelief. I will be up working on something. Then I have to rewrite an article where I have to seem cheery and bloody chatty! It is all really overwhelming and then, just like that work begins. I have not slept in days, gained maybe 100 pounds, and all that. Just taking very very deep breaths now and taking everything one step at a time.

Sitting on a swing, girl, Looking up high, Those are the blue hills, girl, Nudging past the sky. Lying past bedtime, girl, Looking at whizzing cars, Mapping your own travels, girl, With your wheelbarrow of stars.

Writing on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/technical-writing-4-quick-checklist-before-you-hire-writer-mukta-raut?published=t

Sometimes this existence feels like something you won in a custody battle. It feels like a broken, fraught, tense piece from an emtional war.

WROTE A POEM: One day comes And one day goes  Where hours hide  No one knows  Sometimes they peek  From under the bed Like all else that's ignored By the waking dead. FRIENDS CAME OVER FROM MUMBAI: We shared wine, had mini-cupcakes from a patisserie closeby, orange hibiscus bloomed, skies were bright and blue one day, read a paragraph from Arthur C. Clarke's '2001: Space Odyssey.' Felt very lonely one night and the next morning, felt oddly loved. FELT AN ANXIETY OVER MY MOTHER: Cried while folding clothes, wondering how much time I have with her in this lifetime. She is not unwell or anything. But one of my friend's mother recently passed away. Another friends' folks - both of them - are in hospital. Thoughts come. SAW A MOVIE: Happy Bhaag Gayi. I really wanted to watch something light, frothy, funny. This movie was a delight.

Mukta shared this on LinkedIn. Some of you may find it interesting: https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/listicle-5-what-ive-enjoyed-internet-mukta-raut?published=t

Today I come to blog for some respite. I want to soothe my nauseous tummy and breathe in deeply and just get a really good night's rest, really. I don't want to revisit the plot I have to change. I just went grocery shopping and am just too exhausted to see how I will drag them to the car that I have parked far from office today. Mukta is gone now and I am a little upset. Sometimes, I wish she would tell me when and where she leaves off to. I think she's in her small little place in Pune, tending to a withering hibiscus and a thriving pudina plant. You don't know about me. I don't really want to introduce myself, really. But maybe you will want o know about where I live. It is a beautiful house. I live inside a coconut. It's not a very large one. It's fairly regular sized, as coconuts go - the ones that cost sixty rupees in Bombay. Bengalis and Oriyas might buy those coconuts and after drinking the water and scraping the flesh, from the inside, they

On really special days, you may get a text. That text may be from a number you don't recognize because you lost the number or you deleted it. The text may be laden with the sender's habitual imperative of having the last word. It may be couched in the correct sounding words and phrases of wanting closure, a smiley that has been interspersed because the person may want to convey a false sense of largesse. You wonder which of the six people you cut ties with has shared that message. You wonder if it may be a good idea to ask them to do the courteous thing of returning your books, movies, and that pink shimmering top - to complete the closure they seem to want so earnestly after so many days or months (depending on who they are.) But largely, you struggle with an instant reflex to say something nasty. To call them out on the obvious fakeness you sense when they are wishing you well while also telling you other things that are not so nice (or true). But you don't. I think you

The people who help you when you are down and the people who help you when life's turning around for you may not always be the same people. Maybe some people derive their relevance from helping you when you are down and out and it serves them when you are that way. Get away from them and make new friends. Plenty of fish. Large, big ocean. (Of course, when you can...forgive.)

Really enjoyed Mohenjo Daro. It was nice to see a movie far better than what the trailer conveyed. It is sometimes slow, sure. And sometimes one gets the feeling that Gowarikar's Mohenjo Daro was modeled on Lokhandwala culture...but I still loved it. The depiction that before every version of history or object of art was created, there was the setting up of a market place. Or when gold was counted, no one noticed that it was blocking the view of a setting sun. Or what the trail of indigo signified. Or how every civilization, great or small, gets built by people who fled their homes. And Hrithik is such a special actor. I wish he'd done Sultan and Rustom and Chak De and Lagaan...any movie that needs a hero with strength and nobility should have him in it. Am quite the fan now... (Took this from Mukta's facebook post.)

Due to certain circumstances, Mukta will not be writing the blog anymore. I will. You don't need to know who I am. As part of the promise I made Mukta, I will continue the countdown.