Beating Bad

Its only getting stranger by the day.
He says its age, I think its cynicism getting the better off us.
And then you suddenly find joy, in a packed pristine white box...a new phone, and a touchscreen.
So all the discontent with a inexperienced supervisor at work, a friend who is turning senile, and the general eternal question of what am I doing with life now has a new meaning!
The challenge of using a smartphone.

And I am almost feeling like a meth-addict (since thats the new fad) when I remotely try to tell myself, its not mediocre life!

AHH! Not complaining, SMARTY-AND-PHONE here I come

Blaze of Glory

Saw the sun setting today morning, and before it did the blaze of hot air, could perhaps kill.

Honestly, wish it did.

Those hours when the pretension to switch off from the real world begins, is becoming more difficult to live with. Alice is not finding new doors and escape reality, and the times she does, she does not meet Mad Hatter. There’s so much history, blurred. But the learning from it in the current affairs is more difficult to live with.

The howls for hours are deafening. The silent never ending dialogues, monologues and cacaphony corrodes through the heart, turning every part of the system to ashes.

The need to escape, and hide from double standards, from meaninglessness of existence becomes more and more relevant.

It takes me back to one of the very few things that left an indelible impression in college, the sociological monograph of Durkheim. But till, date couldn’t figure the selfish or altruistic nature of it. What if that’s not redemption.

It’s giving up nonetheless. And Alice never gave up, she always had her wonderland. 

But what if afterlife is the wonderland?

Wet Earth

Where does discontent start? You are warm enough, but you shiver. You are fed, yet hunger gnaws you. You have been loved, but your yearning wanders in new fields. And to prod all these there's time, the Bastard Time.

- John Stienbeck

Sanctifi-cation

So this thing in retrospect still seems funny!

Sometimes I truly believe I have no sense of humor except the self tantalizing thing! That pediatrician woman did one thing really well, make me doubt my unknown role very well.

It started many years ago when I thought being a single mother was cool, a few mishaps later, and after decades I realized living with my own self is an ordeal.  Till that point living with someone seemed to be an impossible idea.

Then call it convenience of metro lifestyle, the live in happened, only to add another plethora of   complicated stuff.  With time one does become immune to a lot of things, only to realize you can be numb but you are not painless.

So this 30^th birthday has been rather hectic, settling in with new (old) living – non living. When I had just settled into that, parents arrived.  Whether one admits or doesn’t, you tend to take your parents for granted.  Retired lazy Bong father and almost turning saint superactive mother is a strange combination.  The idea here was to ensure the roleplay of perfect daughter! Did not succeed. I am guessing mothers don’t let you succeed here. But it was good to give them a tour of my life!  Little had parents gone, and the long staying house guest packed up, the other mother announced arrival. 

There went my head and heart for a neverending run. The amount of hyper analyzing I could do was beyond belief. All of how terrible I was with some basic things came back to me. I spent the day cooking, drinking and thinking. And almost dying as the moment came close.

The magic moment happened, and seemed so freaking easy.

Questions straight up, and answers after many years was as clear as it gets, that was respected, and not judged.

And after these two visits seems I have been able to attain the next stage of self actualization, and that too with familial sanction

The one Eyed “Disturbance “

A little edgy, thus ,this luxury of blogging in the middle of the day.

Remember The Holiday, and how Jude Law played NapkinHead to his kids, currently I look a cheap version of that, the sty in the eye woman! As if this wasn’t enough when I woke up to the BB alarm and while switching it off, sneaked in to read the message.

Gosh, the human race, and specific to this kind, the urban, “well educated”, “have it all” but “don’t know what to do with spare time” so lets go drink and bitch about everyone but not call each other “disturbed” on our faces; lets  do that behind back and then deny it kind.  And to top it all, make rash comments and let aggression do the talking.

I am not saying its rare, but I have somehow never survived them for long.  In old times I would somehow drift, but now I despise them to the extent that I can just say “f off “ and walk away.  The sticky bit is when it involves “I don’t want it to perish” item also on the platter.  Honestly I am hoping nonchalance to take over.

But with the trend that one has heard of, and seen, rather recently, it’s a strange kind.

They make a very big deal about who they are, what they wear, and where they are seen. That’s completely understandable; a lot of people around (and sometimes me) are like that. But this recent kind are always so full of what others are, what others are wearing, what are they doing, or hanging with!  And sometimes this “others “ are their friends and on the other extreme, people they are meeting for the first time.

I haven’t met people who have almost no sense of self respect or respect for the other.  Between their friends they would bring one another down to lows that I have not been able to fathom.  

Well one person who knows the judgmental bitch I am, rightly says, no one’s perfect, and one can’t be holier than thou because all of us have those dirty linen tucked somewhere or the other . Just ensure you don’t become a social nuisance!  Takes me back to my wild times, men whose names I don’t remember, places whose address I can never figure the next time, my bucket list of embarrassing things are almost full. But it “disturbs” me to realize that through those “disturbing” times, being juvenile didn’t mean “disturbing”  other people because I had a “disturbed” telescope through which I was looking at life.

So before I sign off, since the film The Holiday triggered it off, my favourite dialogue that Kate Winslet says 

" You are supposed to be the leading lady in your own life, for Gods sake",  play your part, let everyone figure their own

A Catty Memo

So,

Just because you are handsome

(Read MOST GOOD LOOKING)

Just because you like your space

(READ DOESN’T GIVE A SHIT)

Just because you keep to yourself

(READ ARROGANT)

And just because you are most adorable

(READ SPOILT)

Doesn’t fucking mean you can have your way in and out

(READ YOU ARE GROUNDED) 

1 Nibbling Evening

Restless

Over the mundane

A few proses to be written

A few thoughts to be undone

And one hammering  thing to be decoded

Words, spoken, tire you

Wish could read the thinking

Travelling at a speed

Which I can catch

Beneath the never ending laughter

And bunch of exceptional antics

Someday

Maybe while you are sleeping

I will read you

Cover to cover 

Obituary 2

Dear Red Hood

I was looking for
Getaways
from remnants
of Lost Love

I found you
midst the wonder
of online flea market

The brown ol hag
paved way by the matte red
Became the home of
All things plastic
paper
and metal

Red Hood
we were inseparable
Until that Sunday evening
when the devil
caused our seperation

In a few days
Still in mourning
you were replaced
with orange green and several other hues

But I can never replace
the spirit you brought
Dear Red Hood
my little miss muffet
Rest in peace, wherever you are

(RED KARA WALLET AUG 2012 FEB 2013) 

COLOURED PAPER AND TECHNOLOGY

She was sure, the stars werent right!
But in the cities, you cant even see them, so how can the stars be upset and go all over the place?

Perhaps like everyone else they also have a mind of their own!

Nothing helps! That twitch in the heart is too annoyingly there! Stagnant and Stoic
Only to realize the loss of living and non living things have the same impact. (Good or Bad...debatable)

In the last three months, there were three obituaries waiting to be written and since she decided to put an end to losses, one because inflation is hitting everyone and two, she really needs a mind to not be absent,

here it is....
Obituary 1 
the little black book

Rest in Peace my little black book.
I will miss you
And the faint white light you adorned my corner with

A lot of memories you stored
Putting a numeric like 700 GB is just not enough
Of the numerous series, scribbles, seasons, sketches, supers
That warmth will always be missed

Little Black Book
You were the farewell from the capitol
Perhaps it was time to
Really say goodbye
My little Black book

(WESTERN DIGITAL 1 TB HDD - 17TH APRIL 2011 TO DEC 2012)
 

MARCH ENDINGS

After some time, when you are already walking towards being senile, and at the same time come in terms with the fact that you are cynical, life should not throw such water balloons at you.

Its not fair because Holi became synonymous to a loss that can never be recovered

Because the sunrise and the sunset is missed because you are caught in some invisible cage

Because when the sea is so close by, u still would stick to the sitcom when you feel like crying out loud

Because the cat you loved and owned was never yours

Because you find 150 characters always so less in idea, but so much in reality

Because Sunday doesn’t mean doing nothing

Because love is lost and revenge is the new avenge

Because space is not a concept to breathe but to get choked with

Because that speck of dust on the window pane has cleared up, only to pave way to nothing

Because Calvin doesn’t inspire you to press the “last minute panic” button and go and rip it, you just procrastinate further

Because you hyper-analyze about every small thing and the nerves cringe

Because the world around is strange or you are just turning more cynical and blaming it on the world.

A DAY BEFORE 3 DECADES

Finally this is bliss

Damn I will be 30 in a day….hows the feeling?

A little worthless, a glass of wine at this hour and getting ready to hit it.

I am amused how I contradict myself….

To be calling it bliss and worthless at the same time.

The mental space is screwed, for existential reasons. The bliss is being able to sit in (my) our own done up study which is near to perfect and write!! Does take care of the screwed part a little.

So looking back, an eventful meaninglessly meaningful three decades.

The current quest is to find a new avenue.

The present bit of satiation will come from fixing internet, buying two pair of shoes, ordering 1 pair online and cooking some thai green curry.

Shall get there soon.

As of now lets explore this infinite mess!

In love with the Artiste

This was hovering in my mind for a few months, since Promax. This was the first one in India that I attended. Well three years and first one….most of them had a surprised look, but when in Delhi there were more important people to be sent.

It was a great experience, and helped me to declutter, like what the hell it is to complain about systems and processes, let’s turn on to the creative process, meeting Rob Middleton and Justin Cone was the best of it all. And Petes Café….the wonder of the different kind of work happening all over.  Its not mundane, its different….and one of my favourite things, keep doing some thing constantly.

And then I met an old colleague who’s been around for a while. Even that felt good, the fresh perspective always helps and how veterans still are enthused with a lot of passion. And the negativity also goes out of the way. So therefore the story takes a different turn.

Someone told me long time ago, if there’s pain, do things you like and it will be different, not conventional, then that pain can create wonders! It’s about time maybe.

To start off with, let’s not romantize with the artiste within. It’s difficult to come in terms with the odd, not pleasant side of an artiste, a creator. The problem within me became clearer, trying to merge the regular and the non regular worlds. That man was very quirky, but his percentage of the regular world took a better of him. I just wish the love for the quirky bit doesn’t die. But there is no point being judgmental about the artist. That might end up clouding the verdict about what they create, thus being unjustified about the piece of art. Well, I can’t hate the art, because the artist in his/her persona evokes not positive emotions. All the abuses I think are manifestations of the whirlwind of emotions.

The conflict thus reaches the next layer. So is the emotional or the physical trauma inflicted on the other party, here partner, is that justified? Do we artistes get a levy, as Andy Warhol says art is what you can get away with. The trigger point personally that helped me to get over the never ending unhappiness was the trauma of the abuse. After all these months I am thinking objectively. Did I also somewhere inflict emotional abuse of any sort? No….not even at the cost of my creations being compromised on. And that’s why it was important to breakout. I was compromising on my art, not that I have achieved anything except what my profession entails me to. But I was losing the quest. I had stopped getting enthralled at the world of creations. I had stopped looking out for inspiration, I was getting stale.

Coming back to the layer, being twisted, defying norms is one thing, but what my observation tells  me is that we are at a point of transition. As independent creators and also as a race, we cannot figure what is it that puts our mind at rest. It takes a lot of self awareness and training to rise above the obvious. There is beauty in everything we say and see. But what happens to it when reality takes over. Why do we lose track of the basics?  What happens to true art, of the intricacy of creation, the turbulence of trial and error? It is a personal journey, often lonely, then why do we end up making the memory of creating that piece of art so painful for the other person, who is trying to support us through the quest? If we only pain ourselves why is it not enough? That means the whole expression of being liberated as an artiste is just to sound cool. We have not really evolved to be by ourselves and the creation.

The realization and the experience helped me for one thing, I have stopped expecting and looking for  artistic inspiration from the “significant other”. Its as personal as it gets between the creator and the created. If we both love each other, being in love with the artiste will be as romantic and thrilling as I always envisioned it to be. The times that are rough in the pathway to create, you will always have like minded artistes or experiential personas who will walk that patch with you. Art is personal, art is a reflection of my inner self, it cant be abusive to others in any way. Yes for those of us we do some form of commercial creation, we never raise our voices against commoditization of our sensibilities. We know it’s a cruel world and we despise it. Why then bring out the cruelty onto people who mean something to us, to the extent that we could walk miles with them.

From the time we write the first letter, to draw the first line, to splash the first stroke, creation is beautiful and constructive. Lets not use that to hide our own devils.

I don’t know if I will succeed. As of now its the Sunday tea and breakfast spread and being honest to what I create each day.

Salt Pepper and Crowded Lanes

I am alone,but not alone enough
I am terribly lonely but loneliness doesn't befriend me
I don't understand the politics of relationships
And the relationship of convenience
The economics of care makes no sense
Neither the geography of silence
The history is too heavy to carry,but too hard to let go
Abused in every little ways,every day
I fool myself with a mind of my own

I am homeless
But cant turn and scream at the heartless dog
I am lying to myself and crushing something like respect they say
I am pretending every smile
I have nowhere to go, while an open world ticket lies on the desk
Nowhere do I have a shoulder to rest on
Coz I always am on the go
I am urban, educated, apparently independent woman
But I live in the anticipation of the darkest hour
Midst millions of faces
I often find teary eyes
And I am waiting for someone to trigger the gun

I am alone
But I am not alone enough

Swinging between Planets

It feels like living the life of an alien. Swinging between planets.
It makes no sense to me how and why the already complex things need to be layered?
And why do I have not been able to keep my cool!
Just yesterday and till the afternoon today I was happy as a wild flower and then came in memories and then trouble with folks....

Need the holiday
Till then,Saturday Nite time....a midnight in paris kinda film with some fresh fruity cocktail or maybe wine!

Before the blues set in

So, I am in the next 30 mins going to wash clothes....
Didnt do the complaince training, was just toooo bored even thinking of it.
I did manage to do the opening of the wound and will dress it after I take a shower...sunday,I am allowed to not be clean....but the best part is....I broke the kitchen jinx and went out there....hash omlette and then the chinese sausage nonsense....with vodka.

It did hit me back a little again when Dadai called to say hello and then Dad called,but guess gradually I need to put myself back together. So the more I acknowledge, the better it will be.
For starters....Whatever you think,think the opposite is helping and planing the Goa trip in August.

And a little overwhelmed by these two friends I found in this stint.....it feels I was here all my life.
Stoney conversations,lazy afternoons and random musings.
For the rest, the mind travelled a little off the ground.
I thought of Ray a few times today and smirked at myself,I was just stupid to think of it as something meaningful.....I have cried there too, so what was the difference...not the men but what I was looking for in them. I guess a friend said it right, for some men its difficult to handle these women who are just so clear about somethings and so smoky about most of the others.

As of now, Bandra Boy saying...Move in, so that we can cook good bong food or just waking up to say...Abhish,my love...the question mark was gone today,brings a smile.
For the rest of the story, lets go with the flow.

And I said I would come back in the evening which is what I did.
So lets tick the rest off the list then...What say?

Sunday Morning

I woke up to a friends BBM alluring me to hot shot bengali food. Thanks to toe and a few other things cant do that.
The weekend has been laziness personified,but then I needed to rest, the toe..
Almost sounds like I am cooking excuses.
But the good part was,I switched the comp on and decided to not visit social networking sites....ok except for Mark Zuckerberg's timeline and went to check some print stuff on desi creative....havent done madness with fonts for a while...must do...the Stars @ 12 promo has all the opportunities...what say?

Anyways currently its the Star Plus show about which I am in two minds,in principle and in reality.
And then hit the doctor and do the washing clothes thing as well. And damn the compliance training.
Looks like a busy sunday, but what the heck?? All of Saturday I refused to leave the bed!

And maybe I will comeback here in the evening, if I finish the book m reading,lotza thots on that one

Pledge

Here and there,quite all over the place. So time to get some good and not so good pledges to be made -

I pledge

1. to live well,from within
2. tell myself its OK to feel low,after all when was it love enough if it didn't pain enough
3. write more regularly  and finish reading books
4. work, a lot smarter and not let people command my head space
5. travel to new places
6. get up and go for my jog (but the toe has to be fine,cant start before)
7. be smart about my finances, save some money....keep tab of expenses
8. laugh more often and feel it
9. watch more films and less tv
10.not be lazy,get disciplined about life
11.not be afraid to acknowledge that sometimes it will hurt beyond belief,it doesnt mean I escape
12. not make life like instant coffee,buy a coffee machine instead :)
13.cook for myself and have a glass of wine with it
14.listen to old hindi songs and rabindrasangeet and watch a lot of rom-coms
15.meditate and find peace within myself

The universe is as quirky as I am, and this time as well, it will still keep conspiring
To life....with love

Mom turned 50 yesterday,seems like time is on a mission! I am glad I came back home. It feels good to be somewhere, where fears are protected. I slept without the need of noises and woke up, sometimes with a sinking feeling,sometimes normally. Spoke to Blue and Mom, they seem to be in conversation with my inner calling..... 90% I am prepared to let go of it, the 10% is just remnants of long summer evenings and stories of half a decade fleeting love and nameless things. Just tried calling,don't know why but letting go is my biggest weakness. But like we learn everything, this is something I have vowed to learn, since it will be a source of survival. The man from villages around the capital has been around, rather weirdly, its almost like two leaches needed one another to sing the night away. Strange ways we have! But yes no one can take away the Cinderella story from me, I am a director after all,I will make it come alive :) To long woeful nights and lost in translation days, bye broken promises, welcome new dreams

The Bat-tered story

They killed the bat, and I stood there midst the chaos.

Wondered how would the bat must be feeling.....but it had attacked us, and refused to go out and someone had to die in the struggle to survive!

Yes I witnessed the death and celebrated the victory, till I realized that life is just a matter of that moment.

In the memory of the bat, who would have either killed or died.....The Battered Story

This is a veryyyy old post - which was an experience in Delhi in 2009,Novemeber

What happened then?

I was wondering what happened? There's so much to write, I am writing notes on my phone,scribbling on my notepad. Kept everything stored, like the shots and short notes of the trips in October and December but have done nothing about it. I am guessing its gotta do with my lack of initiative and attention When there is time the easiest thing to do seems to be switching on the tv and watching that, what I watch is also not something that I know because its mindless and just keeps my screams inside my head at bay The best way to describe,thanks to Damon Albarn (songwriter for Blur)sings: sorry but I'm not really listening, I've got my mind on something. He adds: the whole world could have passed through me but I don't know that it means much to me. This is a transformation of sorts, I don't know if anything is genuine, not even pretension. Anyways, off to the city of joy for a few days, I hope to be at peace with myself.