209, 208, 207

-
Some days have lapsed and I haven't written. Very systematically then, here are the main things that stand out in my head:

1. I have come to Pune to celebrate, live in, and appreciate my beautiful home some more during this excellent time of the year.

2. I walked from the bus stop to my house, which is a good 40 minute walk. Bought a white carnation and a bottle of Port wine. A friend was coming to stay over and I thought we could dwell on the soft luscious petals of the flower and have port. We had port. No-one dwelt on the flower.

3. As soon as I stepped in, I was filled with so much beatific goodness. It felt so peaceful and joyous. A giant hibiscus grew in my balcony and the plant with the mandarin oranges had erupted with a dozen citric suns. Excellent signs.

4. Then I stepped into the bathroom of the master bedroom and had a heart attack. There was a huge pigeon that fluttered so hard that it almost broke the mirror. It had made a nest on the floor and I was shocked. Called up a friend in Pune who heard me out and in a very steady and sober voice, told me what to do. She was in the middle of her sister's sangeet so I am not sure what the eavesdroppers made of the talk they overheard.

5. While sweeping the nest, I noticed something pointy and leafy in one of the shelves. There was a smaller nest with two small eggs. Damn. I felt bad about flushing the eggs away but I didn't know what else to do. I prayed for them though.

6. Finished a doodle session today on a storyboard I have been working on. This is one of the favorite parts of my job - seeing text translated into images. It feels like singing a song in different languages.

7. Some interesting projects will begin soon.

8. Came across Marisa Peers, a master hypnotherapist online. Would strongly recommend checking out her free hypnotherapy videos. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Check (the) mate

-
My cousin, who was born sixteen hours before me, got married recently. I am expected to follow her footsteps soon. Thankfully, I have been granted more than sixteen hours to do that. My father’s health has taken a turn for the worse. My mother is completely exhausted. Rationally, points 1, 2, and 3 would be distinct from each other. But in my family there is no such thing as ‘rationally’. Therefore all these points are inter-related. Strangely, here, we believe my marriage to be an antidote to mortality and fatigue. I happened to be sitting in my parents’ room while Ma looked through Papa’s blood reports. They didn’t look good. Ma was worried and Papa didn’t help matters much. He kept talking about Sourav Ganguly and why he deserved better. Ma got further agitated and after flinging the reports somewhere inconvenient to retrieve (I should know), she snapped, “So what? There are many like him.” Papa doesn’t believe that and would have no one in his family believe that either. He went to
Read more

Not the same, all the same - Rang de Basanti, being a Hindu, uniform civil code, and Hostage – in that unrelated sequence

-
I watched ‘Rang de basanti’. That, however, is not the point. Everyone now wants to go to Delhi and cruise around in jeeps at night. And that too is not the point. I need to say something. That, really, is the point. ‘Rang de…’ is a good movie but frankly, I’ve seen better. I’ve seen ‘Yuva’. It is creditable, though, that the movie could say what it did without using the ‘sage on the stage’ (as we say in Instructional Design) approach. The movie does have a couple of ideas that I have been besotted with for a long time now. One is the life of a story. There is the germ of an idea about men who go to their deaths cheerfully. There is fascination about what could inspire such courage in ordinary people. That story lays inside a diary for a long time. How long? Long enough for history to play itself out and begin the process of repeating itself. A nation goes the ‘Animal Farm’ way – humans out, pigs in. The story lays untouched – fermenting in latent vigor. Then someone discovers it. She
Read more

Save the Indian (male) child

-
This isn't exactly a feminist tirade, but this is written by a woman, and it is written in annoyance. You raise your girls to be sweet, strong, and independent. (Wise parents teach their children to listen to opinions and discard or heed accordingly. The other ones just teach their kids to bullshit everything that everyone says. Still others bring up girls to be on guard and forget that spine so that everyone thinks well of them. I am not sure which is worse, but I detest people shoving their opinions down other people's throats in a show of liberation, so I'll lean towards the former. But only slightly.) As the gender construct of being a 'female' is pushed even further, you teach your daughter complicated activities – driving, perhaps, sending them off away from home, wearing a sari (those freaking pleats!), cooking and de-veining prawns for added advantage. At the end of that, you have a person who genuinely dislikes blending into anything, doesn't like bei
Read more