Update...

This post has been written at least ten times and found its way duly to the dustbin (precisely the Recycle Bin). I just cannot seem to think of anything to write about. Have I become so unimaginative that nothing seems to excite me anymore? Have i become a tired, world-weary cynic? Is this how rock-bottom feels like? Or have i just grown lazy?

The five minute walk to my office has been reduced to a two minute walk. And thanks to my dad, who found a short cut, it is now just one minute. Apart from the lone, old dog that barely glances at me and that too with maximum disinterest, there is not a soul on the road.

My neighbors seem to lead interesting lives though. The kid next door keeps bawling all through the night, and her mom and dad have little arguments that whiff by, across the cooker whistles. A girl who lives on the floor above me has a boyfriend, who tries to smuggle in everyday in broad daylight. He tries to look nonchalant and casual when he climbs the first floor, and then panics and rushes through the other floors to reach her room as quickly as possible.

Then there is a college kid who listens to loud music in the night. So loud that i can hear it even from the other side of the wall. He also lives alone and does not turn off the lights in the night :), which i certainly do find funny because, though he looks macho and tough in the mornings, with gelled hair and pierced ears, the baby in him refuses to switch off the lights and turn off the music in the night. And I derive a certain joy from that :)

So, apart from churning out articles on cats, dogs, old men, and business, the free time i get is spent on staring at neighbors. An occasional splurge at Fabindia, a lunch date with myself at the mall, and frequent visits to the supermarket punctuate the pretty simple, calm, and quiet life I lead here in Bangalore.

Finally here again...

After a brief hiatus, yes I am back to do my bit in adding to the already vast amounts of junk on the Internet. The past two months have been one helluva ride. Finding a new house, getting adjusted to the orange walls, making friends with my neighbor who plops her baby right into my arms claiming that the barely-three-year-old misses the ‘Didi’ already…

Finding a shortcut to my office which is only five minutes away even in snail mode, icing up the lady who comes to clean to arm-twist her into cleaning properly, feeling the breeze softly nudging against the curtains, waking up to a shivery cold morning, clattering my way through in the kitchen to make a hurried breakfast/lunch…though not as fancy as they sound, they are the little drops of happiness I find in an almost solitary existence.

With an extended vacation in my home town coming to an end in a few more hours, now it is time to come back to the Orangeness… :P I know this trip has made changes that can never possibly become alright anymore. I cannot offer anything but a meek apology for all the hurt caused intentionally or unintentionally. I also understand that it wouldn’t change anything but it is the least and the best I can offer before I get buried under the pile of pending work that makes me shudder even when I am only thinking about it.

And another update would be on my cat’s wonderful ability to produce kittens like popcorn. They just keep popping out of her every three months. So the latest addition to our family would be the completely adorable four little kittens that keep meowing the whole place down.

Every morning when they greet me with their big round eyes full of optimism and joy, I remind myself - life is not all that bad after all… :)

Courage...

This girl was easily the most silent one in the PG. As language was a huge barrier, both of us restricted our conversations to various degrees of smiles and nods. Once, during a power cut both of us were pitted in the dark against each other and that slowly got us talking.

She spoke about her Mother who passed away in a freak accident a few years back, her Father who became a little disoriented after that, how he was pressurized into marrying another woman, how her siblings had to discontinue their schooling for two years…

It brought a huge lump in my throat and I asked her if she ever visited home. She told me she doesn’t want to and couldn’t even if she wanted to. My question opened another series of wounds she was healing with her almost tranquil existence.

Her step mother had sexually abused her sibling who then tried to commit suicide. This girl was apparently the only one gutsy enough to go to the police and report the incident. The lady was imprisoned and is still in jail. However, the step-mother’s brothers threatened to harm this girl if she stayed in her hometown. Thus she packed her bags and left the house, never to return again.

Child abuse is the most dreadful form of sexual abuse. It ruins your life or at least leaves an everlasting scar. The trauma and the pain you endure can never possibly be erased completely. That surge of anger, the realization of helplessness, the quiet retreat into solitude… The sibling even now apparently has nightmares and has completely stopped studying.

I couldn’t but help admiring this girl, for the courage she had to stand up to a group of blood thirsty men for her family. The quietest girl amidst us had suddenly become the greatest too.

Aaaaaand

Tada!!!!!!!!!

New Template :)

Grrrr

Apologies for the mess my blog looks like... Been trying hard to set it right... :( Grrr.....I hate you Blogger.com...

Five Minutes of Bliss

It is a five minute walk to my office. And the sights I see are so varied each day that I look forward to the walk. The road is narrow and lined with trees. As the road bends to encompass a huge playground, I can see frenzied players shouting at each other, engrossed in the game. One of the apartments on my left has a wind chime that welcomes me with a tinkle and automatically brings a sense of peace from within. The house next to the apartment is a small one with a line of shrubs in front. A yellow bulb hangs precariously from the roof; a newspaper lies unclaimed in front of the door, and an unswept courtyard has dry leaves playing their own games.

I turn to an even narrower lane, and see white and pink flowers that remind me of peppermint candies. I pass a house that has a book cupboard in the garage. A small boy starts trotting beside me. He has a full white uniform that has light patches of brown – the mark of a sincere mother who would have spent hours scrubbing it. He is singing loudly and picks one of those flowers. Balancing his lunch basket in one hand, and adjusting his heavy school bag with a complicated jig of shoulders, he smells the flower and puts it carefully inside his basket. Suddenly he becomes excited and shouts loudly, waving frantically at a small boy, quite at a distance in front of us. The small boy takes a while to comprehend and then recognizing his friend, laughs and then falls down because he has not been looking in front. This boy bursts out into peals of laughter and I join him heartily. The other one brushes the dust away and starts laughing too.

Abruptly they realize I have been given admission into their private moment; the boy grins coyly and runs in front to join his friend. As for me, I feel strangely light and carefree. I hum a tune and push the office gates open. It has hardly been five minutes, but I have already had a great day. :)

Waka Waka...

Errr... I lost this post..:( Thanks to my tampering with HTML codes... Anybody who has a copy :P meaning someone who saved this brilliant piece of art as a personal copy, help me retrieve it :(