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Thursday, April 25, 2019

snippets from 10 years of emails

aka 2-4 GB because I'm not going to pay for storage because memories are like wasabi, they're nice in small quantities.

Attempt one at reading thru about 890 emails from 2009 in 6 minutes and picking only the most important ones and the ones that dont make me cry:

Happy New Year! I'm guessing most people haven't finished/started studying. These are notes that I had made for myself for Clinic. I would suggest people read the cases from the Reading Material, but if you're in a mad rush to finish everything in one night, these may help. Please cross check though. No guarantee of good notes here. There could be mistakes.

Also three cases are missing: 1. Madras Refineries (which I didnt understand and so is incomplete and could be completely wrong); 2. Hemlata v. Collector and vice versa (which was too long and so I gave up).

Hope this helps. All the best!


***


Nave saal di tuhaanu vadhai hove
Heppy Ji


***


MCC@NALSAR: 


Please see your research passwords for LexisNexis, Westlaw, and HeinOnline
below.


***
I just heard that you won the Jessups round! CONGRATULATIONS! I just found out and was extremely happy to hear it. This is awesome news! Hope you guys go on to win the International rounds as well.

***

Book tickets for Ghajini Now, The years biggest release!

***

I'm ol.I'm invisible 

***

i wanted to tell you that you didn't call on my birthday and I
really thought you would.

***

Bommai stuff: here. of course you can plagiarise.

***



where are you? im beginning to freak out. whats your number? i am back in civilization and near std phones.

***

You never call me and I miss you. 


---fin----

Some sentiments expressed in these emails are by no means outdated. I wonder what that says about life and me, and my life. 


Thursday, November 22, 2018

The Unbearable Conundrums of Birthday Week

As I write this on the cusp of my 32nd birthday, my thoughts go naturally to the year past and the year ahead.

But before that.

***

A thing happened to me today that made me feel sad. But then the fact I felt sad made me feel even more sad. It was an odd experience - this nested sadness, but along with it came, (with a sudden flash of bright light and a clear pure note played on a piano, if you will), that this swing - between wanting to be sad but also wanting to be high-quality sad, and grading all the sad - that this swing would just continue to exist unscathed by the piles of human emotional improvement I let pile all around me, and well that it should.

What good is fighting years of conditioning - might as well let the pre-frontal cortex take over.

Grading sadness is a useful tool however - and its one against which my future (present?) has no hope of winning against my past. Basically, no matter what (and I'm not tempting you, universe), having control, and being my own person is always better than being small and bullied.

***

Baby K turns one and it makes me want to weep. I cant explain why.

***
I miss being thin.

***
I am excited for the new year ahead. So many possibilities. But first, insurance.

***














Wednesday, September 19, 2018

Maybe this appeals to someone not in heels

It is 2: 18 am I am thinking about truth.

To be more precise, I am thinking about how I am unable to often say so much of what I think or feel. There is this sense of deliberate, playful dishonesty that I contain within myself - sometimes staring at someone intently during a meeting, or ordering a cup of coffee, all the while giggling because I am saying to them silently what I would never at that point say out loud.

You are cute.
You are annoying me.
Please stop speaking.
I think you are over-reacting.
Actually, you are the one who's wrong.
You are lazy.
Work harder!
This is awful.
I dreamt of you. This makes me feel weird and I don't want it to repeat.
Please, stop speaking.
Yes I am awesome.
I am hungry. Again.
I feel so fat and ugly.
I am tired.
I am tired * 100.
I wish you would email me. And I would like to stop thinking about this.

A lot of this is partly because at work I have to do big things and I wish everyone would stop talking to me so I can do them - the big things. A few minutes ago, I was lying in bed, trying to sleep, and thinking about this one work problem I have to solve. And feeling simultaneously excited and crushingly anxious. I don't doubt myself (much) but for once I am in the cosy little intersection venn spot between a circle of IMPORTANT FOR HUMANITY problems and WORK PAYS ME TO SOLVE THIS problems.

All my life has been spent in coming to this point where I have a juicy problem to solve and it is a hard one. You know what Judy says: I asked for an adventure and by god i am having it. Good ol Judy. Is there ever anyone else who I love more fictionally than her? I think not.

***

Speaking of DLL - what a fine thing is Project Gutenberg. And generally what a fine thing is the internet. I love you all strangers.

***
My new favourite poet is Akhil Katyal - see for example, this:

Our beginnings were rocky, we held hands, infrequently, and uneasily, like Def Col and Kotla,
but then, in some years, often and more breezily,like Jangpura & JangpuraExtension.

***

I am sad that the chronicles of 4, Birbal Road did not grace bloggy much - but maybe that is because not much happened? I truly think I was unhappiest in life in that most beautiful of houses. A gilded cage. With daily travel to Gurgaon and back. Life was cruel, in an ironic sort of way.

***

God so many updates on the paternal front but I can't. No energy. Another sign of old age alongside untruthiness. The ability to scoop up unwanted thoughts and vanish them because I am full as a person otherwise of thoughts and emotions and sorry but there is no space so please go away. I am waiting for someone to write me an email and for someone else to stop talking. Yes.

***
I read God of Small things. Eh.

***

Baby Boo has 4 teeth and makes vowel sounds. What a miracle. He smells adorable and his feet are so smol. He is a smol. It is all manners of enchanting.  He just woke up so I went to make some formula for him. DF is a splendid father (not just because he'll rock boo to sleep). I am almost envious. In a non creepy way. Promise.

***

Amelie Poulain is still my favourite melancholy-bittersweet-wistful-happy soundtrack. Some things never change. I listen to La La Land a lot as well. It is also melancholy.

***
Japan was lovely, btw. I bought back many flavours of Kit Kat.  And a Hello Kitty Comb and lip balm! I had a drink at the Lost in Translation Bar. I havent seen the movie. I only feel like a tiny fraud. OMG I also saw the Great Wave. IRL. It was wonderful - I was truly moved after a long time by a museum.

***
Are you there? Anyone?

Thursday, April 26, 2018

I love me just how I want to be loved

yay?

Mono no aware

There is sometimes an urgent need for melancholy in my life, not with the unthinking yet ceaseless necessity of the daily milk or the three newspapers, but with a more gentle kind of longing, that builds up slowly, bit by bit, only to deflate gently and evenly at a somewhat unexpected time: like today morning, when I became very overwhelmed, cried because I read a beautiful essay, had some tea, a quick shower, and am now cheery enough to write a blogpost.

Hi!

***

The Perfect Pound Cake and Chocolate Cake (or more recently, chocolate cookies and oatmeal cookies) are the most recent thing I have mastered. I am now more confident of being a mom. I can solve any problem my baby will pose by throwing sugary baked goods his way. Now I'm just waiting for his teeth to arrive.

YAY. #futureproof

(I doff my hat to Smitten Kitchen here and here and Rose Levy Berenbaum for all the cakey goodness.)

***

The cappucino maker made a gurgling sound and I nearly jumped out of my seat because I thought it sounded like a baby crying. EVERYTHING sounds to me like a baby crying. Given that I live at home with a (my) baby and my next door neighbour has a baby that's a few weeks older, phantom crying is probably real crying. That or I'm going a little crazy. Both are possible.

***

I'm becoming moved by art and music more and more of late, I take this to be a good sign that I am not dead inside. Indeed I feel gradually more alive and inquisitive, birdlike even, chirpy and sharp, as the end of my maternity leave approaches.

What kind of art, you say?

Like the final notes of this piece, say, or the exquisite wistfulness at the end of this piece , or this album which is perfect for sitting on my couch and watching the chromecast wallpapers scroll:

HD earth and HD sky
glorious resolution
lets pretend its real

Haiku nice?


***

Since the pregnancy, everything, every moment is now more exquisite. I observe and have become mindful of my own mortality and fragility, I see it when I holdmy child - a visceral gurgling reminder of how fleeting and fine, this life is. I couldn't articulate it of course, nearly as well as the Japanese can. Mono no aware.

***

Excuse the Japan references, I am researching for my trip there and it is everywhere in the nooks and crannies of my mind.

Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Mian

Last post for today I swear (this is now like a torrent and is a happy less public outpouring compared to what I'd have done on twitter).

a poem I've been thinking about a lot - here:

Manash Firaq Bhattacharjee
NO URDU IN DILLI, MIAN
For Akhlaq Ahmad and Swen Simon
You can’t write Urdu
On Dilli’s walls, Mian1
There’s a saffron lock
On your zuban2, Mian
Horsemen of all faith
Plundered Dilli’s rūḥ3,
They only blame it on
Your ancestors, Mian
From Bīdel to Ghalib
Run rosaries in Urdu,
They embalm history
With rare attar4, Mian
You outlaw a tongue
By policing the wall?
The gardens, the air,
Breathe Urdu, Mian
In the heart of Dilli
Graves speak Urdu,
Even parrots, dusk,
And my jigar5, Mian
Notes:
1 Respectful address of a Muslim
2 Tongue
3 Soul
4 Fragrance made of rose petals
5 Liver, Shakespeare’s “seat of passion”

Shoes in the header image

are from a previous life when my biggest worry was the Dune sale and whether I would find zebra prints in my size.

I wear crap shoes now, I'm on a no-buy CAN YOU BELIEVE IT BLOGGY, I havent had a cupcake in months, and basically 25 year old me would be shocked and disgusted and extremely wounded at the sight of my nails and cellulite and how non tabahi I have become and she would be all like "what happened did some hadsa occur how to fix you".

Anyway, given all this: I wanted to change the shallow-cute header image but I can't pick one thats currently appropriate.

I went on an awesome road trip from SF to Chicago and I thought I'd pick a picture of a nodding donkey from there because...matlab, its honest also and cute also. But fit with the orange theme which is almost vintage now, is not happening.






How long do you think before I stop talking like the Butterfly.
(though maybe calling DF a zinda laash is a power move like no other that I must totes adopt).

Give suggestions for header image, reader.

***

Four days and nights I have been consumed by (chi no not passion) but dread at the thought of the April 31 Mithila Dystopic Story deadline for which I have not ONE not ONE idea. Am I to be a failed author after all. I was up at 2 am yesterday and instead of pinging people on whatsapp, I stared into the void and the void duly stared back and I was still no closer to anything. I am truly distraught.

***

My eyebrows are looking weird.

***

I realized it had been a while since I posted (at all) any art that had recently captivated me and for a weekend project I've been keeping aside this picasso to do as a sketch. Only replace with book with a phone and that is pregnant me.


I CANT FIND IT. everything sucks.
oh man this day started so well.

update: found it.
https://theartstack.com/artist/pablo-picasso/femme-couchee-lisant-19








Tuesday, April 17, 2018

Bloggy and me are like Scurvy haha

Ohmygosh.

Is bloggy my oldest and dearest friend? I suppose so, though like all of my other old and dear friends bloggy too has moved countries, and maybe gotten an iphone and an accent and a british passport and friends who it brunches with, snorkels with and posh new jobs at posh life changing institutions and generally built a life of urbane suaveness and winter coats.

Me? Hi. I'm still ...me. Angsty, curious, unable to fit into my sexy shorts, always on the lookout for great haircuts and sure there are days in which I wonder what the what the what the am i doing with my life but otherwise the same, only the Cranberries have been replaced by Mumford and Sons (Caro Emerald for when I'm feeling particularly saucy) and lullabies.

Ya. Also I had a baby. Also I moved. Also new house. Also somewhat new friends. Also more social media and less reading. In the last few months I have:


1) Read the Annihilation series and some other trashy scifi and fantasy and eh

2) Read Sacred Games and wow

3) Had my insides tickled in order by DF, a gynac, multiple speculum, ultrasound wands, scrape-y instruments, what felt like (and was I think) an entire arm of an entire human doctor, a moving baby boy (whose head, a few days before he was born, I compared to a musk melon sitting on the counter) and some needles.
(I say tickled but you and I dear reader know, that I do NOT mean tickled. This is classic, what do they call it? Understatement. Yes this old dog knows new trix haha.)

4) Watched Mad Men and Marvellous Mrs Maisel and some other soppy TV shows day and night  while nursing (this is the polite word for breastfeeding or as they should accurately call it breast plucking pulling nipple roughening milk clogs glass sandpaper bruising feeling cow like sweating).

***
The thing is, there's been more angst on this blog about an unfairly graded history paper (21/50 - come on!) than ...life since 2017 Delhi. Which, in all of its glory has been ANGSTONIUS ANGTAMAXIMUS. You should have been there, or rather, bloggy should have been there.

I'll say this, I'm only sad I didn't chronicle it all because so much spectacular lazing around was done and fun was had and assholery was dealt with. DF is still around. I think I saw Amelie lying around somewhere. And 202 has not one mummy now but two. Smoke that.

***

I said yesterday to one old friend that I had dropped the ball and he said so did he and I wanted to say YES YOU DID YOU DROPPED IT YOU WERENT SUPPOSED TO but instead I shrugged and sent him baby photos. It is truth but then what else does one do at a point in life when truths are self evident but the conclusions they take you on are anything but?

Love me pick me choose me? But time zones. And time sheets.

***
I confessed I was in a maudlin mood to a somewhat new friend but then I realised it was because I missed bloggy and being able to loudly shoutily complain here. So I'm back.

***
So apparently a deficiency of Vitamin C causes the collagen that repaired old wounds to dissolve, leading to bleeding and aches, which was thought of as a new disease called scurvy but was mainly just the old wounds coming up knock knock and saying hi hello ji whether vitamin C? Odd but nice. Just how I like em ailments and boys.

***
I must go, baby will beckon shortly. But I cant stop thinking of the Butterfly, Christina Tosi, and the gentleness of Sroyon's blog. Duly we are of course grateful to Double A.

***
Hai koi hamein yeh hatecopy ke chai plates toh dilwaein?



Tuesday, January 31, 2017

The quality of mercy

is overrated.
Who cares for mercy
as though it can help you when you need change
and you're standing in the cold and
it feels like all of your life's bad decisions are
laughing at you.
and you have never felt less loved and more hated.
Yes.
that.

Wednesday, November 30, 2016

Thinking aloud a while ago

Its that time of the year when I need to book tickets to go home and as always, I'm faced with some difficult questions.Lon-Del-Mas-Lon or simply Lon-Mas return?

There is a fabulous shoe store in Delhi that I simply must visit, and of course I must eat at Andhra Bhavan one last time before I return, but are these two reasons worth the extra ten hours either way in travel?

Edited to add in 2017.
No. They're not and you made pretty poor choices. Stupid 2012 Sow.

Monday, November 21, 2016

Look who's back

I have no where else to take my poetry. Spaax is back. 





The quality of mercy is not strained.

It is filled with bits of tealeaf bitterly regretting

letting go like the gentle rain that

droppeth on umbrellas

Ouch. Ah well, good that it is twice blessed

Triple filtered, osmosically

and did you know it blesses the receiver and giver

like good sex

Regardless, though justice be thy plea consider this

who among us has not while no one was looking

eaten all the peanut butter lindor

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Purpose

I have it.

I feel like I've floundered for so long now, just thinking and being and doing and failing. Well, *I* call it failing, and quiet-time-ing, though really, its just being as 'on' as I'm used to being.

I feel like I found something I could do for longer than a year. For the rest of my life even. I'm happy.

It would be perfect if it rained today. But I'll take what Delhi throws at me (cloudy, breezy, almost monsoony)

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

I love choice

Sometimes we make choices that seem like they're holding us back, but actually, they liberate us in ways we cannot even imagine.

I am making one such choice today - and while its a bit grandiose to claim that I'm going to be liberated because of this choice in ways I cannot even imagine, I *am* going many steps forward with this little step.

Goodbye tyranny, hello you bittersweet independence.

Thursday, April 30, 2015

Hug me

World,

I'm having a crisis of confidence.  I'm trying to put up a brave face, and in fact, right now, I am on my two and a third mojito, trying to be calm, and measured and brave - and not give in to weeping, but its not easy. And sometimes, a good cry is really worth its weight in tea and sugar.

But mojitos, and nachos are all I have. Yes, its the middle of the day but since I am Founder/ CEO whatever title title, I can decide to work out of a innocently named "Market Cafe" where they have many plugpoints and oneplusone drinks at 3 in the afternoon.

Also, I have listened to Glee's Halo / Walking on Sunshine on LOOP for over two days now, and  I have all the adrenalin I need, I swear, but no answers, no hugs, and no solutions.

I have an email from ten years ago that I go back to when I'm sad. It contains many gems, including the now famous line: "If one is offered chocolate, one must always take it, unless its five star, which is yucky"

How do you think I find this email? By searching for "five star yucky", of course.


Friday, February 27, 2015

MY FIRST ENGAGEMENT LETTER

Today I had a client sign an engagement letter, officially hiring me to be their lawyer/advisor.

SO MUCH HAPPINESS.

<3 you world!

If this isn't a gold star kind of day, I don't know what is!

Monday, February 23, 2015

Being a friend to myself


I had to take out a Demand Draft today, and predictably, I asked DF "So what's the procedure to take out a DD? Have you ever taken one out?" "Nope, I don't know, but I guess you go to the bank and figure it out?", he said, rather unhelpfully. I guess the last time I used a DD was to pay for my NALSAR entrance exam application form, and mommy dearest took care of that!

Anyway, I went to my bank in Bhogal, and figured it out. #win

ALSO, I went to the dentist PREEMPTIVELY which is a big big big step for me, - I feel like I'm ready to be an adult - especially because I will have to work like an adult to pay for all the miseries my earlier dentist caused me. :X
(Pro-tip - ALWAYS go to the best dentist you can, and ALWAYS get second opinions!)

I also made a banofee pie - the dulce le leche came from a Nestle condensed milk tin and a pressure cooker. 

I feel like something has changed. Like there's something in the air (literally, and figuratively, if you live in Delhi, but whatev), something changing.

Could it be as simple as a winter blues thingy clearing up? Because I haven't been as excited in a long time - and more importantly...


 #onwards

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Complete it or Kill it

I've designated one day out of every fifteen in a month to be a 'Complete it or Kill it' day.

A couple of weeks ago, while researching efficiency and optimality, I came across this article which had a central premise.

Complete a task, or kill it - don't shelter it in the warmth of your todo list.

The premise sounds deceptively stupid and simple, but its so liberating to know that there's an option to completing a task, a helpful prioritization meter so to speak, that I've adopted this wholeheartedly.

Practcially thought, I realize it isn't possible, even for someone like me, to get to the bottom of my list everyday, so every fifteen days, I have resolved to complete or kill.

Its 5 06 pm now and I have around 24 entries to complete or kill. I've done three.

#crie #completekill

Monday, February 09, 2015

Mold

I have this obsessive need to work towards a Zero-Inbox*. This need materialised sometime late last year, and since then I have spent hours (HOURS NO REALLY HOURS) every week trying to label, and archive every single email in my primary email account (15000 +emails).

This is the stuff that filing nightmares are made off!

In the process, I often come across cryptic one-two line, no subject emails that trigger my curiosity, I stop to read, and before you know it, I'm reading everything I wrote to people in November 2012 and I am filled with eye-rolling + happiness at my stupid poetry-sending, guardian-discovering and mildly panicking self.

For example, this gem I sent to DF:

Sub: I ATE MOLD

am I going to die? What if it had mycotoxins (wiki says they are poisonous). My throat feels realy dry and sore, honestly. DRY and SORE.

(I feel like weeping a little).

I ATE MOLD - FACEPALM FACEPALM. 



As if you didn't guess already, DF sent back a "you're not going to die. I eat mouldy bread all the time' type terse response from a _blackberry_.

As you can see, I indeed did not die from (wtf are these?) mycotoxins. Hurrah.

I would laugh and poke fun at myself even more if only I hadn't had a similar outburst in Goa recently. Also, I'm not certain why I spelt it 'mold'. Also, I must have had a pretty sad day to eat mouldy bread for dinner - definitely one of the crazy deal-closing weeks.




Saturday, February 07, 2015

Hindsight is love the second time around (aka I'm back bitches!)

STATUTORY WARNING*: I'm sorry if you have me on a feed of somekind - you probably woke up to 614 posts jostling for space and assaulting your attention, much like the armpits assault of the ladies compartment of the purple (violet) metro line at 6 pm to Badarpur on a warm spring day.
As you probably figured out, I didn't write them all in one night - duh, but instead painstakingly rewinded the procedure I performed three years ago (drafted all my posts then, undrafted them all now). ALL 614 of them. If that's not bravely crazy, I don't know what is. Welcome to the boudoir of my truest, deepest, showiest self. I'm scared you'll like me too much, and judge me too sweetly - I'm confident like that ya.

*Not really, you know, because there isn't a statute that says so. Still, in Spaaxland we like our legaljargons wink wink.

Hey hi ho - I missed you gentle reader(s), and I missed you bloggy.

It's been a mega mega rollercoaster these these three years here in India, and really, if  bloggy is to be believed, I was the sanest and clearest when I left *STABILITY* in 2012 to find meaning, purpose and to fulfill a long-standing desire to i) wear orange clothes to work, and ii) find and work on something truly 'useful' (neither, you understand gentle reader, are things that a magic-circle law firm encourages wholeheartedly).

Pah - how manicpixiedreamgirl ish of me na?

In the years since, I've thought of my time in India as a comma, changed it to a semi-colon, and this year I fervently hope that it isn't to become an ellipsis (you will be happy to note my penchant for cheap dramatism in sentence structuring is still the same).

I've been more thoughtful in this time than in any other before (less of the zara, more of the zen), and the last eight months especially have been the hardest, both in terms of forcing me to dissect my life-choices, and in not making what I want fall into my lap like its always done before.

Wounds unaware have blossomed and left scars and fears some of which I find when I'm looking for something else - a scrap of wrapping paper, or a red petticoat, or an unexpected email search result, while some I've become friends with, proudly, secretly, reveling in the story of the how-scar and the old-scar. Scar-friends, you could say (Say hello to my little fear).

And with all of the little-fears, and the ele-beles, and the brave-new-casting away of sloth and embracing of change, my life is in such lovely joyous shambles and order equally both, and I'm exasperated and delighted by its sine-wave-ness in a way that's oddly reminiscent of the times in VIII semester. Its all I can do not to snort, wipe away tears and roll up my fullsleeves (not really, it's still a bit cold) and get back to typing. Really there's nothing like the orange-white blogspot interface and a cranberries playlist to make me want to hug each of my posts, and eat some cake and do a little bit of laundry for old time's sake

<hug>

So - what's this about being back? Let's get some things straight:


  1. It's a new year and I didn't do a 'what I want this year' post (spectacular success, back to writing and lots of travel) - for which I am sad/sorry.
  2. It was bloggy's 9th birthday last August (my bloggy is the best and I love love love it) and I didn't do a post to commemorate - for which I am sad/sorry. 
  3. I went to Goa and I celebrated my anniversary of being married to DF (which I am secretly overjoyed about and which gentle reader way back in 2008 - 2009 - 2010 - 2011 - 2012 etc etc would have thought we'd end up married haha) and didn't do a post about the unhealthily tremulous relationship that this bloggy, I and DF have - the public/private tightrope we walk everytime I post such a post, and how it was all so much easier when I was heartbroken and secretly writing lame-weepy-love-letters to DF on this blog - for which I am sad/sorry.
  4. I had a BIRTHDAY for which I did not do a post - and really, for this, I am sad/sorry/angry a little (note to self: do not watch a dystopic movie on birthday and take it all out on DF).
  5. I took some mega-mega life decisons (or atleast I decided to print some business cards for myself - which are kind of funky in a professional sort of way) and I didn't do a post about it (god figuring out how to host a website argrgrhrhrhrhhrhrhrhrrhhrhrhrhhrr) - for which I am sad/sorry, though I am certain you are relieved. 
  6. I had house-guests over for TEN DAYS (DF's parents,and no-one cried or fought or disowned anyone, and no plates were broken and much mimicking of downstair's aunty was done and much amazing food was consumed), and I didn't do a post about it, for which I am sad/sorry. 
  7. (FYI some were broken later, but that is another post which also I did not do - but given the circumstances, not really sad/sorry). 
  8. I went to see the tanks and the missiles at the Republic Day Parade, 2015 and I didn't do a post about it (or the filthiness, or the crowds, or the rain and cold, or the twitter-miracle that helped me get the passes - really the middle part of this story is like the desi version of Home Alone 2, but the ending is a little flop), and for this I am now getting exasperated at myself.
  9. I've fallen off the bloggy bandwagon - and I can't for the life of me remember why! (No, of course I do - the denouement is a couple of paras below).


So many good stories, in little crevices, in the quiet moments, when you know, I wore orange clothes, made tea at 2 pm, and sat in my balcony and *tried* to be purposeful (tick, tick, tick) - all of these and more, and the times I did laundry, and the times I've gone driving down Motilal Nehru Marg at 11 pm, and the singing along to Mukesh, and the second dinners at Sundar Nagar chomping down bhelpuri, and walking 8000 steps a day, and actively meeting more new people, and licking my hurts well, and the ASOIAF forum fascination, and the getting of a new sheesham desk to inaugurate my work-space at home, learning to host a website (failing at it), using Google AppsScript to install a functionality, besting myself at spider solitaire, learning co-ordinate geometry and behavioural econ and thinking about AI, and crypto-tech, and biases in judicial thinking, and and altruism studies, and getting mildly scared at Black Mirror, and getting very impressed with the Good Wife, and getting mildly annoyed with the Big Bang Theory, and everyday trying to become a brave, kind and successful person and failing sometimes and breaking down while DF makes tea badly :), and twitter conversations, and remembering not to flirt much with online strangers, and making creative excuses for buying things I *want* and not *need*, in these times of austerity, and more, would, in hindsight, have been just the thing - just the thing to make my future self feel warm the way I've been feeling the last two hours.

But no, I've gone and been mean to my future self, and now I feel bad. Let me make amends?

They don't tell you a lot about life you know? The ones who understand it better. Someone told me this today, and it felt like a big significant truthy truth. Really I am glad I stopped subscribing to Vogue and switched to Jezebel, though a small part of me misses my shallow happy-cute self.  All of this sophisticated angst about the city-polity and the egalitarian-consciousness, just echoes around you, and builds up, and you're not even sure what the solution is, and really who's to sit you down, make you tea and talk truth to confusion?

This, this bit of becoming an adult is tough, and its what I've been struggling with. A blank canvas is scary, but liberating, and I've had to work much harder at letting go of the former, and embracing the latter. I've learnt some things though I wish I didn't have to learn it through such hard lessons - I've decided to write it down for you-gentle reader, and for my future self, as a manual say, and because its more organic, homegrown and artisanal than anything you'll see on Buzzfeed.


1) Life is short. Young people die all the time. Don't feel guilty about pushing work to the next day and going for a walk. Unless you're a doctor or something, it's fine. The world will learn to survive without you. It already knows how to.

2) Life is very hard in small ways and in big ways. Finding good ways to deal with the hard stuff is worth spending time on.

3) Working hard is non-optional. Genius, passion and brilliance are really no substitutes. Even for me.

4) To thine own-self be true. I didn't have to make tough choices when young, but I've had to make them more often recently, and it isn't easy. There is a banality to unhealthy compromise, and it slowly kills idealism and passion. Stick to your guns, and your positions, albeit politely. The comfort of doing the right thing is nice, though I can't say for sure that its always better than the ease of compromise.

5)  Being someone else is hard, but being yourself is easy. The tough part is figuring out where oneself ends, and someone else begins. It can be hard trying to figure out if you have a 'voice' even or if all you think and say is manufactured and reworked brilliance from the previous evening's bunch. I don't know how to tell - but something surges in me sometimes when I blog and the words seem to spill out of me because I know what I want to say quickly quickly before I forget, and it seems to fit, it seems true. Some other times, its more contrived - and I can tell it isn't right just by looking - so I guess your internal radar will ping too? It's worth trying to find.

6) Love yourself. Change is scary, and breaking new ground is scary. People are casually dismissive and actively cruel sometimes (why!?)  - you need to believe and love yourself enough to disregard the filth. I don't think this is nearly as easy, and the older we get, it can be hand to be anything but easy on yourself.  Try not to and have faith instead.


***

I hope this makes up for the silence - it took a while to learn some new things to talk about.
A spell of hindsight is a joyforever - said nobody but me.

***

You'll recognize this reference if you've been here before, but I had to do some laundry, and its done now. Time for some tea, and bed, and brunch tomorrow. Excuse the label, but we're pretty relaxed about that sort of thing around here. It *felt* right.

Friday, October 31, 2014

BACK TO COLLEGE

I spent five years and about a few hundred blogposts all within a little campus by the lake.
I'm now going back. For only a day, but still.
202 and 209 - here I come.

#nervous
#happy
#TOTALLYEXCITED
#messfood
#lane
#netcentreandtetravex
#somuchsomuch