My Life, A Cocktail

I am in San Diego, sitting at the hotel after a long but fun day. Today’s agenda was the Sea World. We have previously been to the Sea World park at Orlando, Florida, so we kinda knew what to expect. And yet, I was amazed, all over again, sitting there watching Shamu’s show “Believe”. Some lines from the show that stuck – “Connect with the colors of this life…” “Believe in your dreams…” So to keep the magic alive, I headed to the "Simply Shamu" store and bought a Shamu stuffed toy that’s almost as big as me! Fun times!

It’s been exactly 10 years since I first met my hubby. And this holiday season, I can’t help but look back. Today is the official start of the holidays. We woke up early and kick started the day with a morning walk up to the nearby Eisenhower elementary school grounds. It’s been a while me and hubby enjoyed so much time together. We have been so busy with so many things. It took us less than an hour to be back. And as I approached home, I looked at both of us, still together, looked at our home, our own first home. As I picked out mail from the mailbox, I couldn’t help but realize, this is exactly where I wanted to be. Happy Holidays Everyone!

Some people just like to steal other people's thunder. Perhaps because they can't manage to create their own. I am just relaxing and thinking, "Apna karam kar, phal ki chintha math kar". It's amazing how much better that makes me feel...

It’s a rainy day. The kind when everything’s wet. Fall leaves blown to mounds by diligent city workers have been reduced to a mushy lump. The lanes in expressways are hard to follow and cars are splashing on all sides as they pass. Everything around is slow, except the consistently dripping rain. Winter’s officially here. It’s been here for a while now, but being the bay area residents we are, used to a much milder and late winter, it’s been a little hard for us to accept this natural truth. It’s beautiful all around. The mountains are snowcapped and the stores have all been decorated. It almost seems like it all happened overnight, while everyone was asleep, Santa Claus came about, brought the snow and shiny ornaments. It’s cold. Heaters are on full blast everywhere. Long coats and high boots are in. And umbrellas. For the first time in my life, I am genuinely enjoying winter. Happy Holidays!

I am not the gadget types. Being in San Francisco, I am still surviving with a non-smartphone. I believe that’s proof enough. The ebook readers (nook and kindle) though have me impressed quite a bit. To have a book available at the click of a button, to be able to choose which book you would like to read at any given time and to turn pages electronically with a touch seems pretty cool to me. With the holiday sales on, even the prices are no excuse. On the other hand, there is indescribable joy in passing through the aisles of Barnes and Noble, eyeing each book closely and picking out the ones to read first chapters of. The sifting of the picked books into categories: Not my kind, buying now and buying later. The dating of books with a signature to open years later and marvel at. The folding of page ends and the stacking away on reading as an accomplishment. Do authors get royalty for ebook downloads? I think I am just going to stick to my real books. Wat say?

Its a beautiful rainy morning in San Francisco. The kind that leaves tiny glistening drops on your hair. The kind that has high rises disappear midway. The kind when all you want to do is sit across the window of a moving train, sip milk tea and watch the raindrops slash across the glass and drop off, like transparent fireworks.

Lag ja gale… Ki phir ye haseen raat ho na ho Shayad phir is janam main mulaqat ho na ho Hum ko mili hai aaj yeh ghadiyaan naseeb se Jee bharke dekh leejiye humko kareeb se Phir aapke naseeb main yeh raat ho na ho… Now and then, you are forced to leave people behind. Circumstance is to blame each time. And every now and then, when I listen to this song, it reminds me of all those people and the last few moments I spent with them. Each time a pang of mixed feelings go through me. That’s the reason I remember to hug people when I leave them. Some that I absolutely can’t live without, I hug twice :-) Beautiful song…

You probably have heard me say this more than once, “Silicon valley is THE place to be”. And of course, I am talking about IT. It’s amazing how much happening this place actually is. I know most people outside the city mostly like to deny it. But really, you have to be here to know it! Some west coast analogies: Like Vegas is to Sin Like Disney is to Magic Like LA is to Showbiz Silicon Valley is to IT You can pretty much get drunk on IT out here. Absolutely overwhelming. It’s no wonder I do a two hour commute one way every day to get here.

It’s amazing how much owning a property means to any average Indian. Whether it’s for growing old in, or raising a family, or purely for investment sake, it's considered an achievement. So here we are too. Our first home in the State of California. The process has been long, but fortunately we had good people around who knew exactly what they were doing. We had been looking at a lot of open houses and were on the verge of discouragement, when we found this house. It was perfect. The only house that actually met each and every single criterion we had in mind. The initial part of putting the offer and waiting for a response is nerve-racking. We had set our minds to this house, and so we ended up going back and forth with the sellers and finally settling down on a “Na tera Na mera” price. After that, it was mostly reading and signing documents, and then more reading and signing. After a while, the reading stopped, while the signing continued. Last week, we got the keys. It feels excit

Gandhiji says in his autobiography, that he regards bad handwriting as a mark of imperfect education. Most of us have our stories of how our handwritings came to be. Painful accounts of unrelenting teachers looking down at our notebooks as we filled cursive writing books with what looked like flies squashed in flight. Mine is similar too. I had the worst handwriting in the family. And then, one fine day, my mom did the unthinkable, she compared my handwriting to a friend’s and stated aloud how good hers was. That was the last straw. Luckily for me I had realized, good handwriting comes from good observation. I would stare at other classmates’ notebooks to see how they dotted their i’s and curved their g’s. And sure enough, I had started writing beautifully. A lot of you whose moms didn’t do the unthinkable, perhaps never got a similar chance. Probably you think handwriting doesn’t even matter. In this age of emails, messengers and computer fonts, who writes with pen and paper anyways.

You would have read countless articles on Vegetarianism and its endorsements. Being a vegetarian myself, writing about non-vegetarianism might seem quite lame. Unfortunately, that does not stop me from writing this. I grew up in a vegetarian Brahmin Iyer (and all the caste goodness that comes with it) family. Not one of my ancestors probably for generations, had eaten meat. Enter boyfriend(was)/hubby(now). A pure non-vegetarian. Not just any ordinary non-vegetarian, but a non-vegetarian that enjoys every bite of meat. Oh, the joy of watching him eat! It seems strange to most people when I tell them my kids will grow up as non-vegetarians. Yes, they will. I probably would not be able to cook it for them (although, I am determined to try my best on that front), but hubby's cooking skills and restaurants I hope will bridge that gap. I want my kids to explore the world they are in, as much as possible. And food is one of the most enjoyable ways to do just that.

The stage is set. Appa, hubby and me at the dining table, post dinner. The topic to be butchered being the existence and non-existence of God, the faith and the non-faith. The debate lasted long and revealed perfect blends of perspective, Appa’s ancient outlook and precise facts from history, hubby’s practical standpoint, and my modern yet religious angle. As all casual unplanned conversations go, we cruised multiple topics, from quoting the Bhagvad Gita to challenging modern medicine vs. Ayurveda, from Britishers and India’s freedom struggle, to all the Saamiyars and scandals in India. We went non-stop for almost 2.5 hours, with loud and heated moments occasionally. I don’t think the discussion drastically altered anyone’s perspective of life or any principles we discussed. That was beside the point anyways. What it truly achieved is that it brought some clarity to our already existing beliefs and principles. To articulate one’s viewpoint in any form whatsoever is perhaps the best way

We finally decided to head out to the Jelly Belly factory in Fairfield, an hour and a half drive from South Bay. The factory is located at the most appropriate address: 1 Jelly Belly Lane, Fairfield, CA. We decided to take the 40 minute guided walking tour. Being a weekend, there was no production happening, but we walked around the factory and watched some informative videos about how it takes almost 7-12 days to make the famous jelly belly beans. The thing I was most psyched about was the weird and wonderful flavors they came in. From tiramisu to toothpaste, mango chili to rotten egg, toasted marshmallow to canned dog food, they have it all! With the tour over and our free bag of beans, we shopped around tasting and picking our own beans to create an assortment. We also picked up some collections like the “Sugar free beans”, the “Cocktail Mix” that contained the Margarita, Mojito and Daiquiri flavors, and the “Cold Stone” collection that had all the yummy cold stone icecream flavors!

I just finished reading "The God of Small Things". Again. Its been on my todo for quite sometime. The re-reading of this particular book. I usually do not re-read. Time is precious. This book is not a story that you just read, no fantastic world far far away. Its simply an experience. You read it, and you live it.

As I was driving to work this morning, instinct had me slam the brakes. A tall brown duck was crossing the street with numerous tiny little ducklings following behind. :D :D :D

There is nothing as exciting as planning for a trip. Sometimes not even the trip itself! As a kid, planning for trips was almost an every Friday morning ritual (for those who are wondering, in the middle east, Friday is the usual "Sunday"). The entire family would gather lazily around the bed dreaming dreams that weren't necessarily meant to materialize. Oh, the joy of dreaming a common dream! Now, I do most of it alone, all by myself. A lot of research goes into my trip planning. Listing places to see, researching history, deciding where to eat, scheduling times and designing itineraries. Booking flights, hotels and cars. Discovering discounts! Its life well spent.

She demanded no attention. It was as though she had had enough of it. Her presence was never felt, and yet if you went upto her to ask a question, she would speak up with perfectly articulate words crisply tied together in a sophisticated accent, that would have everyone look up from their desks in astonishment. She never laughed unnecessarily. If you were really funny, you might catch a pretty smile. You could either totally love her, be crazy about her, or absolutely detest her. There wasn't much middle ground. There was only one thing easy to comprehend about her. Almost everyone knew that she had different personas. That she was someone different than what she appeared to be. Although, everyone's perception of that difference was different.

Its been a while. I know. Its been so busy. Life has changed over the last few months. Stress is at an all time high, with deadlines pouring down like rain drops that I am struggling to catch. Not that I ain't enjoying running around. The best part of being busy though, is that I try to make time for all the things I want to do. Coz suddenly, time seems so precious. I have been reading. The Thousand Splendid Suns. I have probably mentioned before how much I admire the author. I am at the last chapter, the book has filled me with immense sadness, of how some lives are just unfair. And those who know me know well how terribly I am disturbed when I find a life that isn't balanced like mine. I found an awesome collection of Kannadasan songs online. Thats prescribed four times a day. I am lovin' it! Appa Amma are here. I have been listening to stories of their grand Europe trip, can't wait to see the pictures. Europe is so magical. I could do with a vacation...

So today, I made my first mistake at work. Gaah! I knew this was coming, and all the while I was telling myself, "You have to make your first mistake. And then, it will all be good". So yes, here I am, post my first goof-up. It had to be something as terrible as affecting production and the users... And more importantly, it had to be something that was totally my fault. A memory fault. I simply forgot to do something... It had to be Friday... I feel terrible... P.S. Oh, I changed jobs. Just in case you were wondering why its such a big deal...

Hubby commented on one of my emails as "Short and Crisp". And I tumbled down memory lane... It was in high school, when I topped in English for the first time. Since then, I was looked upon by teachers and classmates alike as "one-of-the-intelligent-ones". English was "the" language. Coming from India, I was looked down upon and ridiculed for bad grammar and pronunciation. So topping in English could do a great deal for your image. Impressed teachers can be great teachers. They give you extra attention and time. They talk about you to other kids in other sections. They read your passages aloud with a pride fit to embarass you. "Brevity and Clarity". That was the motto of our English professor. And that lesson has stayed with me. Thats how I learnt to write short, simple and clear sentences. I think it works well.

I re-realized something today. [Re-realized means something you had already realized in the past, but had just forgotten it, to realize it all over again] The variety in perspective is unbelievable. I have probably written about my thoughts on collective perception. It still holds true in most cases, but sometimes, you come across perceptions that you never knew existed. And you question the logic of your life. You start all over again. Wow!

After a long break, we did back to back trails this weekend. Alum Rock is a beautiful park in San Jose with about 13 mi of trails. We started out with the Eagle Rock trail that ascends about 750 ft to lead you upto the Eagle Rock where you can see nice big eagles gliding in the sky with the city in the distance. You can spot deers too. We continued on the North Rim trail for a while, which led us to the Todd Quick trail. This is a nice slim trail with long grass on either side. The trail is a loop that ascends and descends rather quickly. On Sunday, we did our usual Stanford Dish trail. Located in the Stanford campus this is a well frequented and paved trail. A 3.5 mi round trip with an elevation gain of about 500 ft. Nice and easy. You get to see the 2 dishes, and various views of the city beneath. We debated our way through. Oh Summer, where art thou?

There is this period of lull. When nothing seems to be happening, every day is like the other. No problems to solve, no decisions to make, no confusing options. Just lull. Initially it feels like a nice break from your otherwise hectic catch-me-if-you-can life. After a while, you feel like a wreck. Sometimes life is sympathetic and brings you back right on track. Sometimes its not, and you go about creating problems of your own. Most people that commit mistakes that they attribute later towards "circumstances" are probably the victim of such lull. There is no moral to this story.

We have moved. To a bigger and better apartment. Me and hubby are tired as hell. But moving has been good for us, we have purged so much rubbish out, and gotten beautiful things in. It took only 3 hours to move. To move all the knick knacks we had accumulated over the past 2.5 years. As I stood staring at the empty expanse in front of me that once was our abode, I felt that feeling of “let go”. So, inside my head, I reminisced each memory, carefully wrapped it in bubble wrap, taped it, and nicely tucked it away in the carton labeled “Fair Oaks”. Making room for new memories…

It’s coming to me again and again. The importance of “character”. It’s the amazing little things you do that reflect “character”. I remember missing my regular bus once, only to listen to a friend talking. He said it reflected “character”. I remember someone taking credit for one of my simple ideas. And I thought it reflects “character”. I remember people suffering to stand up for the right thing. I remember people going untormented for shying away from the truth. It all reflects “character”. One thing that’s your own. One thing that only you are responsible for.

It’s been raining. I finished reading “The Kite Runner”. Simply brilliant. Khaled Hosseini is an amazing story teller. A weekend of packing has gone by, and has summoned yet another week of packing and finally, moving. Almost 2.5 years back, I had walked into this junior single bedroom apartment with a suitcase and a sleeping bag. Now, we are hiring a 24 feet moving truck. Hubby leaves for Michigan tomorrow. Not looking forward to the solitude, especially when all my books have already been packed and sealed…

Last night was my first visit to the ER, well, for myself. I reached there looking like a hag (yes, pain can do that to me), cold and limping. One thing I really appreciate about our hospital here is that it doesn't smell like one. The lobby (even the ER one) is quite pleasant with nice lights and art work. My vitals were taken, and a band with my name tied to my wrist. I noticed that the band was patented. I was asked to join the others in the waiting section. Being the curious person I am, I looked around at the others and wondered what their circumstances were. One thing was common between all of us, suffering. Different levels of it. I was surprised to be called in immediately, even when there were so many before me in the waiting. May be because I described my pain a level 7 out of 10. What happened inside the treatment room I don't quite want to describe, but I moaned and groaned the whole time, inspite of the local anesthesia. Hubby was really supportive. He always is. I

Sometimes you go and shoot yourself in the foot. Sometimes you do it more than once. Just because you believe in the power of forgiveness.

Its a gloomy cloudy morning, I am forced outta bed. Eggs and toast for breakfast, I head out dressed in a sweat shirt and jeans. I drop hubby at his office, and drive to mine. Even the car stereo is playing "Gimme some sunshine...." I enter the dark parking lot of my office building. Its the kinda parking lot movies like to shoot shooting scenes in. A car in the distance starts and the entire lot echoes, I can see its lights turn on... I forget to wish the security guy. I push the elevator button, and as my finger touches the button "3" it lights up. I admire the color of my nail polish against the light... Several minutes later... this nothingness of my life turns into a blog post...

That familiar restlessness has started to set in, again... Its been a while without it, and yet I recognize it perfectly. It drives me crazy even on bright sunny mornings. Its like a daemon process running in my head that no amount of coffee can seem to kill. It grows on me day by day like Marley's chains. No matter how much I loathe it, I have figured that its what takes me from one milestone to another. I am heading somewhere...

They are special, in a way emails are not. There is the envelope that carries your name, sometimes scented, and sometimes the fragrance is just in your head. There are beautiful sheets of thick paper, on which a beautiful someone has taken the time to beautifully write things they want you to know. Just the way they loop their l’s and dot their i’s reminds you of things they did and how you laughed. The words they choose, the exclamations they use, you read them in their voice and their soul. And then, you sit down at your desk, with your favorite pen and a spotless paper to give back the joy. Letters are special…

There is something cool about texting. Being in the US, I don't even have texting enabled on my phone, but I did relive my little passion while in India. Typing away, your hands moving with a dexterity known only to great texters, keeping up with the words being generated in your mind. And then there is the waiting, the vibrating alert...

- Went to Chamundi Hills on a Volvo bus - Biked our way to Nanjangud, and let ourselves be coaxed into buying prasadam we didn't want - Went to Mysore Dussera exhibition, ate cotton candy, went on the Columbus ride and screamed! - Met Ashi - Ate at Nagarjuna's in Jayanagar, full meals! - Finally got to taste Chithle Bandhu's bakarwaadi - Stayed at Ramsukh, got an amazing facial at their Spa on bday, ate loads of Strawberries with cream! - Met Paras - Spent a night at a Tree top cabin in Masinagudi - Went to the Coonoor tea factory and bought loads of tea - Went to Tulsi baag with Chitra - Chocolate paan! - Got a simple hair trim for Rs. 500! - Ate Pav Bhaji Fajita at Chilies, Bangalore :D

Silent solitary evenings When relationships are brewing A starry glance across Smile’s the secret sauce. In that small moment Castles are built with cement Wars are won, troops are felled Over the seas we fled. It’s the celebration of love With colored balloons and fireworks Someone calls my name With a single wipe, it’s all erased.

Sometimes it feels like you ended up exactly where you started. And you ask, all this hullabaloo for nothing? Sometimes you need to digress a little from the path you have been treading, onto another one. The digression is termed a “mistake”. Its sole purpose is to make you feel hopeless and thereby reaffirm you are on the right path.

People don’t want the same old. If its music, remix it. If its literature or scriptures, put it in new glossy words or make them into attractive movies. If its philosophy or history, let famous brand names narrate it. The soul is the same. Just in contemporary clothes.

It’s a new game I am playing with myself. To try and not judge. Watching a movie without really trying to guess what’s gonna happen next, without thinking of the plausibility of the scenes in front of me. Listening to a song without picturing in my mind what it would look like, or without trying to seek the next rhyming word. Reading a book and taking in exactly what is written, without contemplating the right and wrong. Doing something for someone without questioning why. Taking in everything as is. Its fun.

On our old bike with hubby, on one cool breezy evening in Mysore, we set out. Looking above at the clear skies, I could spot the orion easily. And hundreds of other stars. Cruising the double road, with the wind blowing wild through my hair, tears in my eyes, I thought of what had been. The same roads, the same bike, the same shops, the same likes and dislikes, the togetherness. We pass by restaurants we had eaten in, we pass by places we had sat together and chatted for hours together, we pass by places we had lived in, we pass by some old friends’ houses, recollecting all the way... It’s been a decade. Feels beautiful.

I have been able to get some slow time. After a long time. Its amazing how clearly you can think when you chill out. To know what you want, and to go out and get it, is quite something. To reaffirm time and again, that although not all things are under your control, of the little that is, make the best of it while you can. To appreciate the fact that good health just makes things easier, even for relationships. To recognize that time is fleeting with every footstep of the Lord, and that there is nothing more vivid than the time that is now.

The world is a makeup of imperfect individuals. Perfection is a mirage. Evolution is a continuous process with no start or end. To measure imperfect individuals with respect to their stages in evolution is both unnecessary and silly. Circumstances, for the most part, dictate at what stage an individual is, at any given point of time. It is not a race. Respect it, admire it, be in awe.

Some people flow as blood in your veins. No matter what you do to shrug them off, you can't. It just feels better to know that. Atleast you know there is not point trying to forget.