My Life, A Cocktail

I do. A lot. A fresh piece of white paper and a newly sharpened pencil can do magic on my brain. It instantly positions the graphite on the paper and sketches away… The whole world ceases to exist; the deadlines of life just wait, as the doodle takes center stage. The outcome is a pretty piece of what I like to call “art”, but can’t quite be defined. The best of dictionaries fail. There is no name for that thing drawn so beautifully on paper. Its the time I know bliss, its like meditation.

After a few boring weekends and stressful weekdays, I have taken to reading. I mean regularly. Reading keeps me happy, and I feel a sense of accomplishment as I reach the end of each book. It also brings the anticipation of my next visit to Barnes and Noble. I have been avoiding the temptation of stepping into that bookstore for so long, coz I already had a stack of unfinished books! In the past week, I finished Bollywood Nights by Shobha De and Memories of my Melancholy Whores by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I enjoyed both. I am currently reading Fasting, Feasting by Anita Desai. Hubby never gets it. He doesn’t quite see why I would want to spend time at Barnes and Noble, rather than go to IKEA. I try hard to explain, it makes me live experiences that I may never get a chance to live in my life. “Go watch a movie!” he would say. I look forward to my allocated reading time every night. Of course, it means sacrificing certain other things, but that is fine…. I also know I might not be able t

Certain people in your life… who have always tormented you, and I mean always, and yet you are totally crazy about them? Almost like you love them for being such a pain? Its happened to me… and I always felt like such an idiot, until I started to watch HOUSE. He’s like that too, he a great diagnostician, but is a pain to almost everybody in the hospital. And yet, people in and out of the drama, absolutely adore him. I am not crazy… it happens…

It was a thoroughly thought out plan. I was to make multiple sweets this Diwali, all from scratch, no ready-made mixes allowed. The reasoning behind such a plan was, as we were growing up, sweet making for Diwali was a major part of the celebration. Yes, there were the fireworks and all, but I loved the few days before the actual festival, spent shopping and cooking, as the excitement of the festival day grew. The aroma of raisins fried in ghee, the grinding of elaichi, sitting around the table making laddoos, the decisions of kolam designs, the new dresses adorned with turmeric… The sweets changed through the years as me and my sister’s tastes changed, but sweet making and certain other things remained. There were always laddoos. It was always idlis for breakfast on Diwali mornings. And that’s how its going to be this Diwali. There is going to be laddoos and there will be idlis… I love my mom to have kept up the tradition. I love me to be continuing it…

I am thinking about this phrase. How some people want you to be under their “wing”. They probably derive their sense of pride and individuality from the quality of people they collect under their wing. They want you to say “Yes” to everything they say, and “No” to anything anyone else says. They want their minds to own yours. I am learning to break through wings, slowly but surely…