Through a haze

So we are all taught to be understanding people....the more understanding the better. If you master this virtue, then you appear to be a gloriously confident and mature individual who can take care of others' issues. They are happy to be with you and bask in the warmth of your caring nature. Now a word of caution for those who master the virtue to a fault....internally you might end up repressing certain queries or having doubts and grievances of your own....at points like this it would be best to keep them to yourself if you have already set a pattern of being a concerned-about-others sort of individual. Because if you don't the very people you thought you understood will try and do a role reversal on you. They'll ask you to talk it out and express how you are feeling. Talking always helps doesn't it? (Imagine talking to them who 'talk' to you.....sneer!) You might naively believe them and give a shot at talking about your issues with them. They'll liste...

I once knew someone who used the word 'nothing' as a password. I suggested 'confused' as according to me that competed strongly to become her middle name. Incidentally she never really had a middle name and I filled many an idle minute lazily thinking them up. Never really very fond of her as a person, I found myself hovering between a dull respect and mellow condescension towards her. How those feelings can coexist I have no idea! Being a fussy yet silent carer comes naturally to me but in her case I found that I could not care less. It was as if she was unbreakable....I knew she could and would withstand anything that came her way....but in what manner? Ah! Now that is where the dull grudging respect comes to the fore. She reminded me of the much-loved bumbling-fool like protagonists from novels read. Ones who seemed apparently to stumble into the right moments and inadvertently cause everything to fall into place. She was like that....sometimes recklessly hurtlin...

The travel-bug keeps biting me again and again and I respond in the only way that I can....by giving in. It is a shame to be living in a country as massive as India and not to have the thirst to travel, for we have mountains and forests, beaches and desert land....and above all we have history. I have been travelling since I was two and a half. Getting away from the mayhem of city life makes my heart soar, my spirits lift and my soul breathe a sigh of contentment. Don't get me wrong....I would be a fish out of water if I lived anywhere but in the heart of a bustling metropolis....but these vacations are what keeps me sane in my role as a city-dweller. Everything about travelling excites me. From the initial tentative planning to the extensive research (oh yes! I am one of those nerds who reads up before heading off) even the mundane bookings et al....I live for these moments. The best bit though is the expectant wait leading up to the journey date....I become an infectiously che...

Scene 1 Through the thick grey layers of the monsoon clouds the city below appeared. From my window seat the first things I saw were the numerous high-rises dotting the cityscape. The aircraft dipped lower and I could see patches of cobalt blue all over...but I couldn't figure out what they were. Lower still and I could make out the buildings properly and then with a jolt I realised that the cobalt blue was that of tarpaulin. Tarpaulin that made up the walls or roof or both of innumerbale shacks and shanties that dotted the ground. There were so many that there was no land left visible....just a sea of cobalt blue shanties....'welcome to Mumbai' said the air-hostess! Scene 2 Seated in the yellow-black fiat taxicab I was already starting to perspire. The humidity was like a hot wet blanket that zapped me of my energy and left me a tad listless. Looking out at the roads I saw squalour. Drizzly rain and a thick overhang of grey clouds served only to enhance the gloomy decre...

Days flow into daze Clinging to routine as the only semblance of sanity Like fingernails gripping the edge of a cliff face while the rest dangles in nothingness Time washes over me over and over and over again But confound it...I still manage to feel unclean It hurts to keep quiet but shouting has never been my forte Learning how to live an adult life....it is monotonous and new at once But the dazed days are still the same And I am getting used to the fact that they might always be this way

I had been warned that they would be late but me being me I called up the movers-and-packers at least 6 times before they deigned to show up. Two nondescript men in a huge truck. By huge I mean too huge for my measly needs that comprised of shifting a lightweight small bed and a medium sized refrigerator. After having given profuse instructions to the 'office people' at the packers who sent these minions, I found the two men acting quite blank. I made one honest attempt to explain that the bed was here, the second location where the fridge was to be picked up and the final destination to which everything needed to be moved. One chap rapidly translated my Hindi into Kannada for the other one but could not seem to translate back his queries to me. I tried to explain the addresses in the hope that they would confidently say they can get it done themselves but the look of utter blankness on their faces made me quite sure that I knew more of their city than they did. Af...

Striking the equlibrium between caring and not caring is a difficult thing to do. Take family for instance. Caring for them is what one would like to do without caring for the opinion they have on one's life. It is a tough order to fill but I have come to believe that it's possible. The care in question becomes detached to a certain degree as one's own ideas and solutions are the only ones relied upon. It is sort of like a toddler letting go of a grip and wobbling ahead on its own two feet. The initial phase is a tad scary as reliance on people is already a way of life. But as time wears on, one realises that detachment is not so bad. Being in a bubble beats being in the crowd!

So, one day the princess woke up to find that her hair had started to grey and her skin looked like wrinkled paper. She walked to the mirror and gasped: "Where have all the years gone?" She had no recollection. Just fleeting moments from her past were all that remained in her memory. She felt utterly despondent and sat down to decide what to do. Her lady-in-waiting walked in on her, lost deep in thought. On hearing what troubled the princess she suggested getting the Country Witch to prepare a potion to reverse the years. The princess kept thinking. At dinner, she brought up the subject with the father. He laughed and suggested that she ought to take a holiday to forget her worries. But, the princess kept thinking. The next morning on waking from a troubled sleep she went for a stroll in the gardens. The elderly gardener was pruning the hedges to look like waves. He bowed and greeted her and couldn't help asking: "Is something the matter, my lady?" The prin...