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I had a superb lunch with a dear, dear friend of mine. We used to work together in Pune and also go for walks up a small little hill early in the mornings.

We even did that trek when it was pouring one day... pouring like crazy! The hills in Pune, especially Baner where I stayed, were so gorgeous during the rain. That month that I spent with her (before she took up another job, got married, and moved cities) was possibly the most wholesome month in my adult life.

Anyway, we went to the Tibetan place again and this time I had LaPhing in the dry variation, which was tastier than the soupy version. We also got Phengshe, a dish with glass noodles and we had Mountain Dew. Then we went for coffee to Starbucks. It was a perfect afternoon.

Then I had to stay back and work in office until 2 am. I was chatting with a friend from Bombay that late in the night and it felt good.

Anyway, I have some recommendations from my friends. I intend to seriously go through each of their recommendations because they usually send good stuff along the way.

1. J recommended 12 Rules for Life by Jordan B Peterson. He is a clinical psychologist from Harvard and is considered to be a rockstar in academia.

2. The Gate by Natsume Soseke, a Japanese author. My friend who I had lunch with loved this book and I trust her taste. In fact, she has now bought all his books.

3. Movies by Yasojiro Oso. My friend said that his movies are simple and beautifully constructed. They are available on YouTube.

4. Pretty Girls by Karen Slaughter. Another friend recommended this highly when I asked her to suggest a good thriller. She said it was scary and hard to shake off.

Today has been productive thus far. Two assignments done. Will get dressed and go out now. Maybe get a good sandwich or teacake somewhere.

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Last night I had gone to the Kali temple for the Amavasya puja. I had also gone to pray for my mum. Earlier the priest had told me that I could give the material for the puja to him and that could be offered during the prayers. I have been a little wary of involving a priest to establish any sort of connection with my mom. But it was Ma Kali and mummy and I have a tiny secret related to her. Or not so much a secret, just a mother-daughter thing.

When I was a child, I remember seeing the first Kali murti, I think it was in a temple in Bombay, and being very pleased with it. That she could be my friend. The fact that the version I saw was the fierce manifestation of a dark goddess and all that didn't somehow feel real. I felt that she looked all enthusiastic about something and would like you to participate. Who wouldn't like that?

Then I don't think I visited a Kali temple for a long, long time. Then, in Pune, I was somehow very drawn to her. It was quite sudden. I still remember that one morning I was brushing my teeth and I had this urge to get connected with her. Like looking up a school friend.

So I did.

I went to the Kali temple in Khadki and well...I can't explain. I don't know what it would feel like to the best, most free and innocent part of you that made it's very first friend. But it felt like that.

One day, I got a very small and pretty Kali murti from Shaniwarwada. I would keep her in the terrace amidst all my plants and light a candle in front of her at night. On full moon nights, when the light shine down on my flowers and terrace, there she'd be - looking happy and earnest.

Around that time, when Mummy would visit, we both would sit in the terrace and have our coffees, watching the soft glow of a candle flame dancing off Kali's brass surface. Apparently, there are a whole lot of rules of whether you should keep a Kali murti in the house and where and how you should keep it, etc. I have never followed that. She just felt too much like my own to bother with protocol.

Anyway, one night, Mummy and I were playing ludo on the terrace. I was looking deep into a candle flame and told my mom that fire was such a beautiful thing. Mum said that this sweet, cool darkness in the heart of fire was where Kali stayed. And her hair looked like black flames - wild, unruly, strong. (Mom had this knack of describing something very visually.)

Months later, Mom's health started declining. She hadn't had the cancer yet but she was getting weaker and restless at times. Around that time I started visiting the Kali temple in Vashi. A friend had told me about it. (I like Kali temples anyway because they are usually empty and seem more 'playful'.) But that place is one of my favorite places in Bombay. It's so cheery. I like the way the priest sways a little with a rose in his hand when he is doing the aarti. And there's often tasty mithai. And the vegetable khichdi Prasad there is really good.

And Kali there in that temple is just too cute. Unlike other Kali murtis, where the goddess has a longish, slim face, the one there has a full, round face. She looks like a cherub. I know that she is the mother goddess and all that. But whenever I see her, I think of a little girl who wants to jump in puddles of stick her fingers in jam and invite you to do the same.

I used to take my mom there later. I think that was the last temple that she visited.

Last night, as the aarti was going on, I saw Kali the same way my mum described her - a friend who lives in the cool darkness in the midst of light. With hair like black flames.

Maybe mum is braiding it now.

I get the sense that a few things are going to end now. I keep making plans for September and October and November and December, etc. But something inside me is telling me that none of it is going to happen. That in the next few days, some things will collapse or evaporate or something. But in a good way.

As mum had once told me during a game of ludo, that fading to black is perhaps the most important answer to a prayer.

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Will make this quick. Some places that I tried out:

1. Tibetan Mother's Kitchen that serves LaPhing (for only 40 bucks) and tingmo (the Tibetan bread). So this joint I intend to be a regular at.

2. Grameen for Indian food, especially their tadka daal and chapati. Have heard good things about their bajra khichdi with jaggery.

3. Some kind of salted chips that has Varun Dhavan's face on it

4. Kombucha at Good Earth cafe. Even their pastries.

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Yesterday I spoke to two people.

To one person, I said that I was feeling a little adrift in Bangalore with regards to work and life. But it's a good feeling.

To another person, I listened to how Bangalore had anchored him and helped him build a fresh new world. And that's a good feeling.

Both points seem to be on some kind of continuum.

How moving away to build something we call home is, in so many ways, returning to a world that was familiar and forgotten.

274 of 15,400: Traffic as an ice-cream flavor

It is soothing to be in traffic sometimes. There's a sweet communion of people one will never meet. Or will keep meeting if they travel the same way everyday. When people commute in a city, they build a cocoon so efficiently - their books, their music, their calls, their social media,  their videos, the shut-eye, the chanting, the humming, the knitting, etc. In that teensy flimsy cocoons, something is getting built. This something will emerge when the traffic has been crossed and the destination has been reached.

Traffic can really feel like a sorbet in between a rushed morning and a crazed rest of the day.

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It was a good enough day.

Puppy adoption event at Koramangala and a visit to a local park with happy trees!

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Went to Blue Tokai with a friend today. It was really nice. Blue Tokai roast and grind their own coffee beans (and there are lots of varieties) but their cafe is really pretty too. It's in Koramangala 8th Block. It has a very cute open air spot and a warm, cost indoor space.

Inside though, what really cheered my heart, was a denim boutique (Blue Tokai's own brand, I guess) where they custom make denims! Customized denims! I saw a couple of really sharp looking blazers in a dark wash and some really nice shorts. There were a couple of knee-length skirts that looked chic too!

I have been wanting a good shorts and jacket set. Will find out about it sometime next week.

Now the food. My friend and I both tried their pour-over coffees in medium and dark roasts that were good. I had a Kombucha ad well that was light, sweet and refreshing.

Then for the main course, we had a Buddha bowl each. Mine was a vegetarian bowl that came with rice, a creamy buttery sauce, greens and a batter-fried tofu that was delectable! That really was the star of the plate.

My friend had a chicken Mexican bowl that came with black rice, spiced chicken, avocado puree as relish, and other assorted veggies. She liked it as well.

For dessert, we had a vegan chocolate tart that came topped with chopped, roasted nuts. That was good.

The real meal was our conversation, though. With her, I feel like I have finally started to build an inner circle in Bangalore. It's not so much a circle as it is just her and me. But since I don't really do well in groups, for me, knowing that I can catch up with her once in a while, is precious. As a freelancer, you get sensitive to whose energy you stay around in your downtime. Because that really affects how much time you spend recovering when you're working. This friendship feels like a tree-house you can take refuge in when it's a beautiful summer day but you want a quiet spot to read. And not go running about.

I have never understood why women friendships don't capture the imagination the same way as romantic love does. It is equally, if not more, serendipitous as meeting a lover and exchanging your heart. There is a warm softness and a solidity to female friendships that is so nourishing. It's not even in the talking. Maybe it's in the listening. It's in the safety of knowing that this is not flimsy. That even if it's fleeting, it's still for good. When I catch up with my women friends, that is what I'm getting fed on.

Anyway, this pal is a good cook to begin with and has started further experimentation in the kitchen. She had made homemade granola and got me a batch. It was in such a pretty package that she had sketched on and decorated herself!

I came home and had some with coconut milk. Really tasty!

Just overall, today was a blessed day.

Some pics from the evening.

The last picture is of the batch of granola my friend gave me. Sheesh! I can't stop smiling! 

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A long time ago, when I had started the blog, I was fairly regular and I would write about specific topics. There was a period of time when I got a lot of emails from people who told me that they were reading me as they grieved for a parent who had passed away. I was, of course, very moved and curious about that. Today, ironically, I look through my archives and try to search out what I had written to help people through a situation that I am going through. Now I see that the readership of this blog has quadrupled since the last three or four months. So I don't know why anyone is reading me now.

I know why I am writing, though. Maybe that bears repetition. To no-one in particular, but to me especially.

I am usually a self-centered person and I quite like it. I know a version of me that is so fascinating that, at times, I wonder why it's such a bad thing to be 'full of yourself'. It's a good thing, I think. However, there is thankfully also part of me that has seen and understood the universality of the personal. And the personalness of the universal. Coupled with that is a certain joy that I find in writing. It may or may not be particularly good. But it's something I can do for free and I can do forever. Therefore, this blog is the only thing where I put the slightly better side of me forward - the side that is at least striving for a cotton-candyish kind of nobility in a rough, tough world.

Today I did meet a friend though who told me that perhaps I should not write as many excursions into my personality, as it were. I should probably write something more neutral.

I ended my day at Fisherman's Wharf on Sarjapur Road. Very cute spot with very expensive bebinca. But there was live music and quirky decor on one side of the wall, and outside there was a whole different vibe with solid wooden chests of drawers and candles burning inside latticed cases.

They serve Goan food but Goan food without the Goan vibe is...just fancy and pricy...and comes with a 'But why?!' incredulousness if you actuaally have been to Goa on a budget that costs as much as the meal. But it's a great place to wind down a rough week at. This was a sudden plan. And thank God for that. Maybe a cheery goan God who didn't punish you for not booking an Ola or Uber earlier.

It's cold in Bangalore but it's a fresh, snappy kind of cold. You see people around and everyone's looking taaza.

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Thursday ended.

Sushi at Broadway, a restaurant at HSR was good. 

The road in front of Forum after rains is a special kind of weird.

The weather in this city is so luscious.

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Was listening to the sweet, low, languid song Behroopiya from Bombay Velvet: https://youtu.be/Sb2CP0IHQno.

I really loved that movie. I don't know why it didn't fare well. I loved that jazz age era that it captures, the costumes, and all the broad and tiny ways it reminds me of Salman Rushdie's novels: Moor's Last Sigh and Ground Beneath her Feet.

In a cab now. Won't write more .

That strange and strong thing

Before she passed on, Ma had been in the hospital a few times before. Once especially she had fallen really ill. I was in Bangalore at the time. But my brother texted me to come back soon because Mom didn't look good. I always thought that my brother anyway gets upset about every small thing so I waited for my father's message. That month I had planned to go to Benares with a friend. My father didn't call. So I called him. My father told me that if possible, could I cancel my trip and come down to Bombay instead? 

Of course I could and I did.

My brother was very distraught. My father was soldiering on. I was not very worried but all the nervousness of the hospital got to me. Like everyone else, I would visit my mum in the ICU. Mostly to sit by her side as she lay asleep. 

I would hum this hymn (my absolute favorite from school), 'I surrender all' -  (https://youtu.be/7x2IpLSfqp8). Mom would sometimes tighten her grip as I hummed.

Sometimes she would wake up and smile. Her smile always felt like the dawn of a Friday - as if all happy, exciting things would occur that day! Even her faintest smile was the stuff hope was made of. But one day when she smiled, her eyes looked empty. That day I felt like I had lost mom. This lady, fragile and dainty, was a very close replica. But she wasn't my mom. 

I texted a friend to tell her that I think we are losing mummy. She texted back saying that I should have some faith. That just because we don't see an outcome we want doesn't mean that it's not good for everyone concerned. 

Over the next few days, my mother's situation had gotten worse. The next time I had to go inside the ICU, I stayed at the entrance for a little while. I could see mummy by the window. She was sleeping like a little bird in a nest. There was a lot of peace around her. So much peace and lightness. That time when I saw Mummy, I spoke to her in my mind. For the very first time, I completely accepted that situation with a lot of calmness. I told Ma that if it's all too much for you, you go. We won't hold you back. Love you so much and goodbye. 

That night my mother recovered. In the next couple of days, Ma was home.

I remember this very clearly because it was one of the latest pearls in a string of several events that had connected me to an everyday, ordinary but superlative divinity. My Mom literally was my most closest cord to whatever soft-centered love that the Universe holds. 

I think of that often, especially now. I think after you lose a parent, there is an upbringing you have to give to yourself. I feel I should go back to those few minutes outside the ICU when I stood and surrendered completely. Not the kind of surrender that you do with one eye on the scoreboard to check whether you've won Life's game. The surrender that comes with faith...a luscious, oceanic faith that if it has come to pass, it has come from love.

I intend to develop this systematically now. The way I learned Biology in school or driving in Delhi. Set up a timetable, follow the schedule, and show up for class every single day. 

For starters, I got a 2 volume set of Gita by Paramhansa Yogananda (since Autobiography of a Yogi is one of my favorite books. I love the lucidity of his writing.) I intend to read a few pages of it every day and write my own personal prayer in my shiny yellow book. 

The more I meet people, observe my own life and thoughts, and see life go on, the more I feel that there's a need to build the capacity for faith. The illusion of control just dehydrates the beauty of a simple day, a simple conversation, a simple friendship. It just knots and chews out love. 

And from such unfettered faith, there will come a slow and strong surrender. 

Then, maybe all this living, loving, hurting, and recovering would have been worth it.

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Today was fairly shitty but I suppose it could have gone worse.

It was really good to talk to my father and brother. Looking forward to going home soon.

I feel that my parents shielded me from so much. I suppose I always knew that but now, without my mother, it's getting clearer and clearer. Mostly I suppose it was the men in this country. It's just past midnight. So many times, I called Mum at this time to generally call her and talk about a ride remark or a hurt comment or stuff like that. She would always always answer. I suppose I got this trait of staying up late from her. My mom always felt that if she weren't around, people would take advantage of me because I couldn't say no. Slowly I thought I had given her the confidence that I could handle stuff on my own. Now I suppose I can. But today, speaking to my mom would have helped. A lot.

And today, yet again for the sake of Ma, I am trying to keep my heart open. Whenever I used to get into fights and arguments or lose my cool, and if I wanted to punch someone in the face or just leave everything and go, my mom would tell me to, "be kind, if you can."

It is so unbearably difficult some days. Like today. But I think if you've had the privilege of being so loved and treasured by your parents, you can try to pay it forward.

So, time to breathe and make compassion a priority. Even when it's difficult. Especially when it's difficult.

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Woke up really, really missing my mother.

Had a fight with a friend who had stayed over. I was just so angry. But in such cases, nowadays, I think of what my mother would have said or done. She would have told me to keep my heart open and give a benefit of the doubt - since several people have done the same for me. 

Then had a couple of calls for work - it is so frustrating. Iterations are the most frustrating things ever. I am going to take a break from work very soon - before the year has ended. I don't care how I live - although I live well. What the fuck is this? Why doesn't anyone in this country take responsibility for clarity of what they want? I don't get it. I mean what is the grand purpose of scope document and design guidelines and project schedule and unending calls of 'we want this ASAP'? What does all that shit mean? It may be more scientific to just get work based on your horoscope then. It is as 'scientific' or 'ridiculous' as anything else all these big-shots are following. 

All this over-articulation and manic control with woolly clarity is irritating.

I can keep my heart open for only two instances per day. My friend took up one chance. And the first client call took up another chance. The others got an earful. 

Anyway, I have a fever and body ache now. This city is getting cold as hell. Staying over at my pal's house. It's nice and cosy here. 

Will get to work now.

Thanks,

Mukta

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So, things have been a bit funky yesterday. Almost lost my cool twice - came very close but did not.

Watched 'Once upon a time in Hollywood' - it's a macabre carnival, and I find it to be Tarantino's best film after Pulp Fiction and Kill Bill. I didn't care much for Reservoir Dogs or Inglorious Bastards and I haven't watched Django Unchained. Leonardo is such a good actor that, for the first time, I realized what a friend had once told me - that he seldom plays different parts. He's always a man pushed to the brink of something, a man-child who destiny cradles at the end. For someone who could has pretty much played the same beats over and over, his is still the face you want to see a permanent smile on. 

I have never liked Brad Pitt too much but he is really fine in this film. In fact, I found him to the finest actor in this film - and that's no feat considering the cast. Then, of course, there is the soundtrack - which makes all Tarantino films such a treat! And the way each scene, at least visually, seems to be designed like a book cover. Like if you just turned over that image, there was a story - for each little scene. 

I hate watching violence so when the quintessential Tarantino kicks in, I shut my eyes and all. But until that point, this movie was a ballad of the bizarre.

I also drew a panda yesterday. Thought it turned out good.

Today, have come into work. Very very sleepy. But there's coffee at hand. 

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The day suddenly got difficult and hard.

Feeling nervous and a little scared tonight. Will pray. But a little about today.

It was a weird day. I had a funny dream in the afternoon and woke up but couldn't get up to have a bath.

I took a cab to work. The cab driver looked like he was only 12 years old. I asked him how old he was. He started the trip and said 53 minutes.

Oh well.

I am feeling very very lost in Bangalore. I can't read maps and I don't understand directions. So I can't book a share a cab or Quikr because I don't understand what direction to go in. I tried to learn though. I tried to understand the various parts of Bangalore but I can't.

I wish my father was here. He could explain maps to me.

Every time I open Google map and look, I only see a tiny tree that indicates that there is a forest nearby. But I can never find the forest or locate my place.

But I really like that tree icon. Sometimes when I am stuck in traffic on the Electronic City flyover, I imagine that we are all driving up and down a pine tree. And each house in Bangalore is a beautiful little ornament on the tree. My home, like everybody's home, is part of Christmas. And after sun down, everything is lit.

 So I spent all my money on the cab fare so I could only eat a plate of bhajjias in office. But no matter. I took the Christmas route.

(No electricity at home. Can't cook rice in the electric pot or make coffee for myself. I don't like fruits but may need to stock up on bananas or something now.)

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Today has been a dull, emotionally exhausting day. I couldn't sleep too well last night. I had some bad dreams. Then a friend lost his cool with me. I mean...by this point...the number of stuck people who go on tirades about 'moving on' is not even funny. Sometimes I feel like I am not even meeting new people. I am meeting some variation of the same short-fused characters I have known all my life.
Everything is being brought up like bits of half-chewed scraps of experiences. Anyway, my rather proficient and extensive experience with anger has taught me that angry people seldom have a problem with anything outside of them. So, that's that.

But anger does tire me out. So I went out and had rasam and rice. It was really tasty. Then I went to the parlor to get waxed. I think I will wear something pretty tomorrow. Then I went to get some groceries. So much of what I bought does not serve me at this point in time. I have bought stuff as if I were a person with a fully functional kitchen and who loves cooking and who has to feed 10 people. But I did get a satchet of some Swiss Vanilla hot chocolate powder which I was planning to have tonight.

But it rained here so there's no electricity. My phone's almost out of charge and frankly, so am I.

But out waiting for a friend to turn up. Hopefully I will enjoy one cup of coffee in a simple, uncomplicated manner, go home and go off to sleep.

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It was a cold ride to an unknown place,
I took a winding, broken road,
Wet and gravelly around purple ponds,
And I suitably inured.

It was a friend's beautiful home
With four Persian cats no less,
Amidst those pretty felines
Was me sweating in duress.

Sometimes people say some things
And you feel the building up of walls
And sometimes you say stuff back
Petty Chronicles of your falls

At some point there were copper cups
With coffee served all hot
At some point there was a sadness
Or maybe, just a joy that was not

A home exhales such memories
Of times when the heart didn't win
But with the peaceful purring of the cats
You know the sunrise will peep in.

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Phone is almost out of charge. Wore my dark blue jeggings and a tight, grey tee. Liked how it fit. I find that just sleeping on the floor, without even doing any work out, actually helps in keeping a little bit in shape. I guess it's because everytime you sit down or lie down and get up, you get a little bit of a push-up.

Ate a very funny tasting veg sandwich at 91 Springboard. I think I burned more calories chewing and digesting it. There was no butter or anything. I wanted some. The lady who had made the sandwich looked perplexed. I don't think people ask her for butter anymore. Going by the amount of green tea satchets in this place, it doesn't seem to have the kind of crowd that would want their bread buttered.

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He waited until the cook had finished garnishing the last plate of noodles. She was craninh her neck to see if her order was done- noodles garnished with burnt garlic. After the cook had finished, our man heaped the plate with the hot street Chinese fare and sat down on the road. She sat on the tiny white stool on the road. Their eyes shone - much like the moon in the sky.

They looked at each other. Then they laughed at the crazy designs on the food truck. She made mental notes of replicating the trippy forest on one of the walls. He reminded himself of bringing home the paints for her.

Meanwhile on the opposite side of the road, a child almost finished his tiffin. There were a few half-chewn chunks of bananas. He wasn't going to have them now.

"Go throw it in that dumpster," her mother said.

"There?", the child asked - not wanting to go near the rusty, old gaping wound of a scrap vehicle. But she ran and emptied her tiffin there. It stank - that place...all those spoiled noodles and garbage bags that were so large that they seemed to be stuffed with something big.

She ran back to her mother and hugged her. She had the chills.

The next night, he got her golden-fried fritters and massaged her feet as she sat on her tiny stool under the banana tree.

They made fun of the funny looking food truck...and made mental notes of all kinds of funny things.

They always were an odd couple.

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Today I had booked a massage from Urban Clap. It was really, really good! I am not sure if it was Swedish, but whatever it was, felt great. There was a way when she massaged the top of my head and the back of my neck at the same time. That felt so brilliant.

Got some rice, daal, and soya chunks from Nilgiri. Will make a mixed rice in the cooker one of these days.

I have been trying to reach a co-working space in Bangalore since forever today. Even the ones that claim to work 24/7 don't attend to calls today. That's so dumb. In Bombay, it had taken me 30 minutes to find a place, book it, reach it and start working. On a Sunday evening, that too. That was 91Spribgboards. They have a branch here as well and they have been as responsive as a torch without battery. This is really irritating me now.

I plan to pitch for a new project tomorrow. Fingers crossed. Most likely I will get it.

I just don't feel like meeting people anymore. Had thought that maybe this time in Bangalore, I will hang out with my friends, etc. But I don't want to be the only one having to travel outside of Electronic City. I mean I have been here since last September and so many have not come home because Electronic City is so far. Today I think that is its chief plus point. It's a good filter for friendship. Address. If the company's worth anything, come meet me here. Or actually don't. I don't feel like meeting anyone.

Today I got a call from my mother's phone. It was my father. That felt good. And hopeful. I feel that if my mother's phone is active, then one day she will call. I will see her number flash, pick up the gone, and hear her talking to the help about clothes to be sent to the dhobhi - forgetting that she dialled my number. Then I will say hello. And she will suddenly realize and get all happy and chirpy and ask me one of these two questions first, "What have I eaten?" and "Is it cold?"

Well, it could happen. There's a book called Reality Transurfing by Vadim Zeland, a Russian scientist. He said that, and I am paraphrasing very badly and perhaps inaccurately, that each moment in time branches out into several realities. So what you think about a specific point in reality moves you on that branch of reality. If you had thought something else, then you would have moved to another branch of reality. So in this space or the soup of nothingness or whatever, there are all these tiny slides of different versions of the same situation. So, at this point, on one of those slides, my mom is there. I just have to figure out a path to get there.

Physics seems to be an interesting subject. I never quite liked it too much but a friend of mine has always been interested in it. He ha once tried to explain some concepts to me. I was very fascinated by just the scope of what that subject studies.

As of today, all grief seems to stem from time and space. Imagine being equipped to investigate that itself. It takes sleeping with the enemy(ies) to another level or dimension. He he! (Quite clever that was, I think.)

But I would like to study physics really. From scratch. If anyone knows of any books for beginners, please recommend.

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I was thinking of writing down a list of things that made me happy but it reminded me of the last paragraph of Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath and David Foster Wallace's speech, "This is water." Both very powerful speeches but both these people killed themselves. So I think I should ease up on all this gratitude and positive stuff. At times it feels like the dry bits of shit squeezed out from a constipated heart.

So today it was a bummer. Had a fight with two people. Bad ones. Since the last few days, I really have been trying to be kind. But then today I sensed that kindness was not silence. Some things had to be said. 

Anyway, the anger is creeping out. It's getting more palpable. Something has to be done about this.

Have come for a movie now to this mall, Vega City mall in Banerghatta. The H&M sale is so awesome! It's better than the one in Whitefield. There are silk and linen tops is rich shades of Brandy, chocolate, taupe, and ivory. Really chic. There was a white blazer that I tried out. It looked so beautiful! The pants I am wearing today are from H&M - a snakeprint. There are leopard print slip dresses, long gowns in a luscious emerald silk, and tall heels in grey and glitter. So lovely!

I'm waiting for my friend to turn up. Having a chai latte at the Starbucks in here. Damn nice! 

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Things I am grateful for:

1. Spoke with some of my sweet, close friends.

2. Played Fruit Ninja.

3. Had a really bad dream. But woke up from the bad dream.

4. Ate rice and enjoyed a good cup of tea at Sanjeevani.

5. Dad and brother are okay.

6. Nice, cold weather here.

7. Watched Friends.

8. There was point during an office call when I missed my mother a lot. A lot. I really felt like poking a fork or stabbing my thigh with a sharp object to see if physical pain makes this other kind of grief go away. But I didn't do that. I took my mom's picture our of my wallet and sniled. Genuinely. She can and still does make me happy.

9. The DTDC man who came to deliver my landlord's credit card had a lovely ringtone. I asked him what it was. He said it was from a Telugu movie. It was very delightful.

10. I wrote today. So I guess I lived today.

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Pretty much worked all night.

Had a very vivid dream about my mum when I took a mid-morning nap. For a minute after I woke up, I was disoriented. I reached for my phone to call Mom and sensed that something was wrong about that act.

Went to Third Waves Coffee Roasters to work because there was no electricity at home.

Met my friend in the evening. We walked back to her pretty place. It was a lovely evening - cool and chilly. I had hot water. We chatted.

Returned home.

Am having some hot water now.

Dear Universe,

Please note that I am trying very hard to be on this 'moving on' program. Do try and make it easier for me to get through the day.

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Am feeling nauseous.

Have a lot of work. Finished a chunk of it. Have to work through the night now.

Feeling sick though. Hope to get through it by sipping hot water.

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Indigo notes in a purple sky

That's what daybreak looked like today

And plasticky blue at the petrol pump

When I saw a stranger look away.

At dinner then, I noticed a girl

In a lace cutout dress in Arctic glaze
And periwinkle flints on a hanky
That I burned on a whim, in a haze.

Agate is the shade of lostliness
That enters an empty home and invades
Today I could bear one more day
Because I saw blue in all its shades.

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Returning to Bangalore on the day Article 370 has been repealed.

Really tight security at the airport.

Forgot Ma's photograph. Carrying a copy of her death certificate.

Two weeks ago, I lived in a different world.

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Really tired today. A quick low-down of the stuff I have enjoyed.

1. Lion king. Rather the experience of going for the 3D version of Lion King with my father and brother after mummy's...(I can't bring myself to write the D word yet.) It's the first time ever in life. My father and I were not too impressed by the story. My brother however seemed to like it a lot.

2. Get Out on Netflix. What a marvelous movie! And that man - the black guy! He is so so handsome and what a performance! When he gets hypnotized for the very first time... that's just stellar.

3. Bridesmaids on Netflix. I really liked it. I didn't find it as funny as what the reviews had made it out to be. But there was a scene that really moved me. This lady is in a casual relationship with a man who doesn't treat her well. She's losing her best friend to another lady in high society. Her job is in shambles, etc. She carries the burden of a failed bakery business. Her ex left her when the business tanked. She has stopped baking since. She meets a cop who likes her. He makes her feel good. Then one night she comes home after a rough day and bakes one perfect cupcake for herself. She decorates it with these flower and leaf trimmings that she cuts out intricately. She makes some kind of an elaborate design with whipped cream, hand makes sprinkles and toppings, and puts the whole cupcake mold with only one slot filled in. After it's baked, she gets out the cake and eats it.

I absolutely loved that scene. She didn't bake a whole batch to turn her life around. She baked one. Her life didn't transform immediately after. It took it's time. But as she ate that one perfect cupcake by herself in an empty house, she stood straighter. And you could tell that the seed of self-worth has been planted.

Both Get Out and Bridesmaids are different genres. But the lead characters in both stories have to convey a subtle but pronounced transformation. It's really really amazing! I wonder what must it take for an actor to get that...what happens internally? What is the briefing you get? "Your subconscious now breaks open and you're no longer cool. You are a 7 year old helpless boy." Or "By the time you finish this cake, you become someone who will not settle for less." How do you then break this down into behavior and actually SHOW a personal journey? I think you really need to be a keen meditative human being to be a good actor. I would love to talk to an actor about the method.

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Things I am grateful for today:

1. A burgundy and gold leaf kurta that I wore. It was nice.

2. Found my nose ring.

3. Walked out into the rain. It pittered and pattered and puddled all along the road. And it always looks like an awesome opening scene of a movie.

4. Had a really good cup of hot chocolate at the Mystic Mama cafe.

5. Came across a book called Devi by Ramesh Menon. It is an abridged version of the Devi purana. It looked interesting. Want to get that.

6. Liked the ajwain paratha and tandoori gobhi that I ate.

7. Finished the work I had to wrap up for today.

8. Had a massage.

9. Clicked a really nice picture of a table outside the cafe.

I love the look of the picture. It looks as if there's a couple in another dimension having a conversation while the mountain goat, lost from a parallel world, looks on.

10. Spoke to a friend who has written a lot of books. Felt so good!

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Things I am grateful for today:

1. Had chhole and rice. So tasty! I love chhole chaawal with some chopped onions, green chillies slit and salted, and lemons on the side.

2. Had water in the taps.

3. Spoke to three of my friends after so long! It felt so good! Really...it was beautiful. I think when you talk to a close friend from long ago who you've not been in touch with, you just feel rainbow hearts forming around you.

4. Wore a new skirt and top today. The skirt was this slightly dull indigo print with rust trimming. And the top was a teal halter top with mirror-work. It looked nice.

5. Did a little stretching today. One round of the chandranamaskara. I don't really get the space at home to do my yoga. Even though it's a big house. Anyway, it's a start.

6. It rained today and it sounded soft and mellifluous. The sounds of your favorite people in a different room when you're taking a nap.

7. Finished a little bit of work. Have to finish one whole other assignment. However, one part is done. It feels good.

8. My friend sent a picture of her nephew. He is so cute and jolly. He has four teeth and is 7 months old.

9. Dad and brother are okay.

10. My laptop is working. 

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Today was difficult. I didn't so much think of mummy other than feel her Tangled in a knot of slow, dull ache in my chest and stomach. After I finished working on a document, I took a nap. It was disturbed. I woke up feeling heavy. Really heavy blanketed in a from kind of sloth. I wrote my journal and prayed a little. It helped a little but not much. So I took an old coaster that had some kind of design on it and sketched it.

This really helped. Shifted the pain to another level, I think. I cried and I felt lighter.

I had this vision of my mother. She has become really tiny - the size of my thumbnail. I pick her up and tuck her inside one of the creases or folds of my heart. She melts. Then all the shards of pain that seem to be lying around like debris - all of them get together to form this ship. In the partial melted form, she sets sail and goes cruising along inside me. Finally, when she has completely melted, this ship comes to the center of my heart where it tips into a small hollow. Mom is a beautiful, pool of golden liquid with flecks of iridescence. 

Now my mom is a lake inside my heart. 

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Things I am grateful for today:

1. Enjoyed my cab ride to Andheri East.

2. Finished another assignment.

3. Really enjoyed the spicy masala rice with potatoes and capsicum.

4. Spoke to a couple of my friends at work. Had milk with a really sweet, gentle, and wise person.

5. Dad and brother are fine.

6. There was traffic but this city looked so beautiful! I returned by auto. On the way, I saw so many pretty things:

- A little girl wearing a pale blue dress with pink umbrellas printed all over it. She was combing her pet pug.

- A dilapidated house with bright pink walls. It had no roof and was in between two small tinny shops. Against the backdrop of the grey sky and pop-green trees, this house really stood out.

- At another signal, I saw a thin man with a cart with lots of knives. Each knife had a handle in a different color. He was sharpening each knife with so much artistry. He would do a little, then look at the blade from all angles, then stroke it, and then sharpen it again. Next to his cart, a lady in a navvaari sari was making garlands. She was piercing through each marigold with such gusto. That was funny. The man was being gentle with knives. The woman was being rough with flowers. If I could have a picture that encapsulated Mumbai for me, it would be a photograph of this scene. All things a little bizarre on a very ordinary day.

7. Listened to this song, 'Yeh aaina' from Kabir Singh on loop. I love it.

8. Met a couple of relatives from long ago. I really like the uncle and Aunt. They have such a cute tiny granddaughter. They showed me a picture where she's wearing oversized glasses.

9. I have a roof over my head. My aunts had been talking about the cyclone in Orissa. I am feeling really grateful that I can sit inside a house and wax lyrical about the rain.

10. Wore a silk striped Zara shirt that I thought I had misplaced. Clothes really make me happy!