Tag Archive for 'my life'

My life in numbers

Published on September 11, 2009 in I me & myself. 15 Comments Tags: , , , .

Okay, lets start with a tag from Indian Pundit which I have procrastinated long enough. Numbers that reveal secrets about me. Hmmm… difficult, very difficult. I have re-written this time and time again because I’m not so, erm, good at revealing secrets and that too, about myself.

ONE: I am a one-handbag woman. Unlike other fashionable ladies, I will carry my purse with me to the grave, if it hasnt been torn, mutilated or made fun of by certain people around me.

TWO: I would like to have two children.

THREE: Or make that three.

FOUR: I can speak four languages; I’m a bit rusty at the fourth one but still, I cant help but show off. Its always been that way.

FIVE: I have five really good friends. I get along with these girls like a house on fire.

I owe my college degree to one, share memorable school experiences with the second (reunited by Orkut, thank you so much), can almost out-drink the third (though she also beats me in scrabble and crossword), am younger by a year to the fourth so there’s always someone older than me whose birthday sort-of eases me in to the next higher digit; and finally the fifth with whom I share my lunch these days and we have the most marvellous time talking about each and everything under the sun. And also, its never gossip when we ‘talk’, btw.

SIX: Its been six years that I’ve been working in the same place. I cant imagine doing anything else. Not counting winning that lottery and then anyone can shove this job up anywhere, frankly speaking.

SEVEN: Its my lucky number. No, its not, you just want to get this number over with because you cant think of anything else to write. Oh, shut up! *You* shut up! No, you! No, you! Oh, real mature! Oh, what’s the point?

EIGHT: Eight of my finger nails are nice and long. One of my old friend once remarked that if there was a title she could invent, she would call me “Miss Hand” (imagine!). But my thumb nails are short and flat and not at all nice to look at. There, I said it. One of my deepest secrets, finally revealed.

NINE: 09 has been a good year. I’d hate to see it pass. Or maybe not. Lets wait and see, shall we?

Okay, I now tag everyone who thinks this tag was easy enough to do. And that, my friend – is you.

Oh lazy brain

Published on August 29, 2009 in Life as it happens. 9 Comments Tags: , .

Many people asked me as to why I havent written anything in my blog till now. And by many people, I mean at least 3. I replied, “I dont have anything to write about”.

In retrospect, is that really true? Have I nothing to say left anymore? That cant be right since I havent stopped chattering nineteen to the dozen, 24X7 and dont seem to run out of ideas vocally. So why should typing be a different story?

I have resolved to stop playing silly online games that sap up my online time as well as my train of thoughts which leave me no time to do precious little. Let the dust cloths be pulled off this poor blog and may no one suffer from sneezing allergies as we do so.

Brain, I command you to write – starting NOW.

In dog years, I’m dead

Published on June 20, 2009 in Life as it happens and You live, you learn. 20 Comments Tags: , , .

thirty

Today is the last day I will be able to say I am 29. There are very few instances in life when one wants time to stand still and I figure this is definitely one of them. Its surreal leaving the 20′s behind and turning old is cruel, nay excruciatingly painful. Who knew this day would one day arrive.

I was ranting about the very same thing to a friend of mine who had an interesting thing to say: 30′s are the best years of one’s life. According to him, the 20′s are when you’re discovering yourself; maybe experimenting with things, pleasant or otherwise. And a whole lot of drama naturally involved.

On the contrary, the 30′s are when you’ve accepted who you are and you finally learn to make peace with yourself. You know what you want and dont; and basically live life as per your choices and no one else’s.

This made a lot of sense to me. And if at all, what he says is true, I can stop fussing about a number that decides how old I should be because facebook says I’m mentally only 13.

Here’s to three decades well spent. I didnt want to turn 30 but looks like time had other plans!

To being thirty. And (hopefully) stopping the count at that and no, I dont mean anything drastic like dying within this year.

30 and none the wiser. And we shall live happily ever after.

Singtam

Published on September 30, 2008 in Life as it happens and Sikkim. 18 Comments Tags: , , , .

You know, you live in a place for about 5 years and it finally and surprisingly grows on you. I know most people assume that I live in Gangtok since I blog from Sikkim. Nope. Gangtok is about an hour further up north from the place I live in, which is called Singtam. When I first joined work and saw, yes with my own two eyes, this… this dump of a place, the only thought I had was – how the hell do people live in a place like this???

The main market was infested with taxis and the temperature was soooo hot that I nearly melted. Gangtok, on the other hand has a divine climate that makes the entire place centrally air conditioned, as my dad used to say. Singtam, on the other hand was filled with vehicles passing through, villagers in their sunday best come out to do their weekly shopping, alleys filled with a peculiar stench that just wouldnt quit, with – ugh – little eating shacks right next to all the dirt. 

Whose number only preceded by uncountable number of booze shops, (to one of which some of us would be loyal customers for life) Maybe the worst piece of news I’d heard about this place was that it was a haven for crimes. Burglary, murder, take your pick. I had made up my mind then and there that I would commute from Gangtok rather than stay in such a place.

Stay, that I did. Made a lot of new friends and neighbours. Visited the police station on a regular basis. Once the institute bus had a major accident with a biker chap and since I was on the bus at that time, I was the witness by default. Another time, a burglary occurred at my new apartment although the theft was recovered the next day itself. So yes, I made a lot of friends at the police station. Psychologically, it made me feel more secure.  

Til date, I dont know a lot of people in town. The ones who know me as Rinchen mam, from XYZ Institute give me warm smiles which probably translates into – please pass my son/daughter/nephew/relative, good lady. I smile back at them and find it amusing that this is such a small place where everyone knows everyone else.

Two people who meet me in the market and dont let me leave are – my former sweeper, safaikarmachari as they’re called these days. Rawat bhaiya goes on and on relegating stories about bhabhi, mine – not his. I always know the next words coming out of his mouth will be – please give her some work in your office. 

The other guy’s the parking ticket collector. Previously I used to dodge such people in the hope of saving 5 bucks but when I found out that he’s my former maid’s brother, I offer him a little cash once in a while. He always wants me to go to his home and meet his sister and her little kid. Oh and he also doesnt give me a parking ticket anymore. Which is nice.

Then there’s my regular shopkeeper who’s always happy to see me. He probably sees dollar signs where I’m standing because he says things like – please come in, madam, come in. Please take anything you want. Its your own shop. His shop’s name is Fruit Shop. So is the next door’s and the remaining shops after that. I’ve never seen a sign board outside declaring the actual name. Strange.

I’ve also gotten used to the temperature by now. It doesnt seem so bad now and I have begun to hate Gangtok’s bitter wintry cold. Somehow Singtam feels more home to me than my actual home of Gangtok. Its not as advanced as the capital city but its a place where everyone knows my name. Thats reason enough for me. I’ve come to love the place I once could not stand. Stranger things have happened.

Strange element of narcissism

Published on September 25, 2008 in I me & myself. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , .

The previous Love Tag had my friends answer a common question - What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is?

Well, I guess I’m very happy with all the answers I got to read what they feel about me. Take a look:

Do I have to answer this? Rinchen is my chaddi-buddy yaar. We went to school together and were neighbors. She has always been that wild child! But ironically, leads a life of one tamed lecturer these days. Might get over that and turn into a wild bureaucrat soon though. Fingers crossed!!!

Heh – all true, I’m afraid. Every single word. Tamed lecturer??? Hahaha… I would like to see an untamed one. And I’m hoping for that bit about a wild bureaucrat to be true too.

She’s different from everyone else I know! She’s one of a kind. She’s a little weird in a curious way and I’ll never be able to predict her actions. :)

And I think there’s a totally different person buried deep inside the exterior she’s been showing to everyone in this world.

Cant disagree. Thanks to you, I’m going to have to reflect on the last sentence and ponder over it deeply… Though I like that bit about being different and one of a kind. And being unpredictable is spot on. You know me very well, dont you? :)

I like Ringchen. I know in first person her humility, intelligence, sense of humor and Captainship. HATS OFF TO MY DESKMATE.

Aww… Times like these, I want to go back in time and hug my desk mate in the middle of a long, boring lecture involving electrical machine design. I wouldnt have been in so much of a hurry to finish college and grow older if I knew that our path would rarely cross again after that.

I have known Rinchen for so many years. She was my senior in school, but we never interacted. But now that we have, I think she is a wonderful person,fun to be around, totally addicted to the internet :) ,very good with words. I think she can talk her way out of any difficult situation. 

Can I? Hahaha… That little trick comes in handy when I have a fire-breathing boss demanding for a specific piece of work that was due yesterday. Upon which, I buy a little time (yes, talking out my way) – LOG OUT OF THE INTERNET and then do that stupid work.

Rinchen, Shes witty, forthright and intelligent. So much I can tell from her writing and I love her blog! She also has good taste because we seem to have a lot in common.

This is the first time I’ve been told I have good taste. I love this compliment. Very much. Thanks, you all. You guys made my day :)

Stupidly fearless girl

Published on September 20, 2008 in memoirs. 18 Comments Tags: , , .

As you grow older (and wiser perhaps: seems aging is mandatory, wisdom optional), you look back at all the things you used to do back when you were young and wonder how on earth are you still alive today to blog about it.

Me and a friend were talking about college days when we used to make the arduous journey from Sikkim all the way to different parts of South India which meant four days of very long travelling. Most of the times, we used to have other batch mates escorting us. But there were vacations such as Onam holidays for me during which they (the guys, if you could call them that) wouldnt want to travel back and forth in such a very short period of time; so they decided on staying back in Calicut.

I, on the other hand, HAD TO travel, even if I had to do it all alone, just so that I could come back home, stay for a couple of days and head back again. Stupidity number one.

Once, I traveled all the way till Calcutta along with other friends. They reached their destinations and went home happily. My connecting overnight train to Sikkim was at 6 pm and I remember one very decent batch mate worried about how I would wait all alone in the platform. I exclaimed – Come on! I’ll wait in the ladies waiting room – its no big deal, yaar! Thats when he informed me that I was standing in the wrong railway terminal in the first place. Stupidity number two.

He kindly escorted me to the other platform, which was miles(?) away from the previous one and he finally had to take off since I had hours to kill before the train arrived. His face was all scrunched up with worry while I laughingly waved him goodbye.

Six pm came and went – I had already left the ladies waiting room and was in the platform waiting for the stupid train to show up. Night fell and everything started becoming dark. There I sat on the platform, propped up on my rucksack, reading a book while porters in their red uniform and other creatures eyed me quizzically till 11 pm. Thats when the train finally showed up and I took the upper side berth to promptly fall asleep. Needless to say, I reached home in one piece.

Looking back, I kind of fear for my own safety and thank god nothing happened to me. During that particular journey and so many others after that.  I cant imagine traveling alone right now. I need an escort to reach me till the train bathroom – thats how much I’m scared to death, honestly speaking.

I guess thats what age does to you. It makes you aware of how fearless you once were.

My dad

Published on September 11, 2008 in Good things and memoirs. Closed Tags: , .

Me and my dad werent always best of friends. If anything else, we probably fought more as father and daughter than normal enemies would have in their lifetime. He had a terrible, terrible temper – the very same one that has been passed on to me, I’m afraid. People would literally be afraid to be near him whenever he used to be in one of his moods. Which was pretty often.

We once had a lousy argument regarding the small kid who was the servant’s sister (who used to stay with us). Something pissed him off and he went berserk. Thats when I sprang in defense of the little kid. One thing led to another and we yelled pretty much hard at one another. Before the rest of the family realized what had happened, I packed up my bags and stormed out of the house. I walked a while before I realized that I actually had nowhere to go. Then I went sobbing to my aunt’s house; thank god she took me in and I stayed with her for two days before we made peace and I could go back home.

He wasnt always all that bad though. He never lay a finger on me or my brother while growing up. Now, the kind of person I am – you’d want to do me bodily harm if you got the chance. In that sense, I am really my father’s daughter. He also gave me a lot of space as an individual. I remember he used to hand me my letters, whenever I used to get any, intact and unopened. On the contrary, my mum used to open them, read and then demand an explanation for each of the sentence the other person had written.

When I first left home to study in Kerala, he accompanied me and by the time we reached Calicut, I remember him whispering to me – Where on earth did you choose to study, my daughter! The distance eventually did us both good since we werent in each other’s faces to scream at one another any more. The love between us just grew more and more because distance indeed made both our hearts grow fonder.

When I decided to get married, he didnt approve of it because of the differences between our religion, caste and what not. Like an adamant brat, I went ahead and eloped because after all, youth does deem itself invincible. The first time me and my husband entered my house, my dad had tears in his eyes as he made us sip milk from a bowl with his own hands, as was the custom.

It has been two and a half years since he passed away. And I miss him terribly. There’s no one left to get mad at and no one to love either. I dont know why but I suddenly thought of him after a long time. Its ironic how you realize the value of the other person only when they’re not around.

All about me

Published on August 30, 2008 in I me & myself. 8 Comments Tags: , , , .

I’ve been going through other people’s blogs and whenever I click on their About Me section, they’ve got a detailed page describing themselves – which I think is interesting to read.

Therefore, I thought it would be nice to write a post about myself. You know, general things like who actually I am – other than a female of the species supposedly deadlier than the male. The works. So this, apparently, is how I roll.

I was named after my father’s elder sister who passed away when she was quite young. We used to have an old black and white photo of hers in one of the albums and she looks just like my dad. Only maybe more prettier.

I’ve been a rebellious sort of kid and more so as I progressively grew up. The tales of my daring escapades would have to be printed in a book format and that too by the name of an anonymous author. No, its not that I think so highly of myself. Just being on the safer side. If there is one. Enough said.

I used to read and read and read when I was a kid, which earned me glasses by the time I was a teenager. Often when I meet people who knew me way back, they keep repeating the same thing time and again – You used to read SO MUCH when you were a kid, do you remember??? Yeah, like they’d let me forget. Plus, I still do read. I dont remember all what I’ve read but thats another story.

I think I’m very easy going and friendly. Other people, however find me a tad arrogant and domineering. I can act very childish and immature at times and as a result, I’m sometimes battling unnecessary cold wars with people I’d rather have a drink with. Stupid, really but inevitable unfortunately.

I dont like people who nag. I myself dont lecture people unless I’m being paid to enter the classroom and I dont think I can stand listening to ideals and virtues of being the perfect human being, which I’m apparently not. Whats more, I like being imperfect. Anybody having a problem with that can go eat Bart Simpson’s shorts.

I like to think of myself as a very chilled out, relaxed person. Of course, thats when I’m not being audited at work or being nagged about how to live my life. Thats when a shrewish version of me takes over and all hell breaks loose. I’ve taken a self-taught course on “You have only one life – live like there’s no tomorrow” and come to the conclusion – to do what you want and not have regrets, well not many anyway.

To quote Aamir Khan in some ad on TV, why would you want to learn from other people’s mistakes? Make your own! Hoping to do that and more or as I like to keep repeating, will die trying.

Things to do before I die

Published on August 16, 2008 in Favourite posts and Good things. 13 Comments Tags: , , , .

I’ve watched The Bucket List a couple of times by now. The movie’s about two old guys who have precious time left to live and make the-list-of-things-to-do before they finally kick the bucket, which for them was soon enough.

I, on the other hand, inspired by a brilliant movie and this one blog here – have taken it upon myself (and my poor blog) to compile a list of things that I want to do before I die. Even if I never really do these things, what the heck – its just a list, right? So here goes nothing.

1. Go skydiving. Ok, so this is on the list in the actual movie. You know whats not there in the actual movie? ME. Back to skydiving, there’s one small problem though. You see, I’m afraid of heights. Cant look down a five-storey building without feeling all dizzy. So that means, I’ll either have to sky dive with my eyes closed or I’ll probably be dead before I reach the ground. I must be crazy to put this on #1. Maybe it should go in the list of things to do that-make-you die instead.

2. Get a tattoo. Yes, this is in the movie too. And no, I’m not copying the original list word to word. I’m a big fan of Ami James in the Miami Ink series on Discovery Travel & Living. So, #2, with a little rewrite, will be – get an tattoo at Miami Ink at South Beach, Florida. Woo hoo!

3. Learn how to ride a bike. Yeah, poor me used to drive a three-wheeled cycle when I was a kid and was petrified of a bicycle while growing up. Still am. Hmm… I think I’ll have to look up google to see if they’ve got a word for fear of bicycle riding and add that to my resume.

4. Visit Disneyland. Ok, thats a little pathetic for a soon to be 30 year old, I know. But I cant help it. I used to be a big Disney Time fan when I was younger. My favourite character was Daisy Duck although I used to despise Winnie Mouse. I would like to meet them, yes… but I cant forget this incident five years ago – when I was strolling down Brigade Road and a huge, white suited astronaut came straight at me to shake my hand – thats when I ran screaming away for my life.

Of recent times, I visited a local cafe last Christmas and was greeted by a stick-thin Santa Claus with an enormous pot-belly. Surprisingly I ended up shaking his hand. Yay! I’m no longer afraid of imaginary characters!

I’m also poor at sticking to one topic, apparently.

5. Learn a foreign language. Preferably Spanish. I did try to learn this on my own earlier. Then, I lost my Learn Spanish book. Someone borrowed it “to see” and I promptly forgot the borrower’s name. I guess being able to say lo siento, solo hablas english (thats – I’m sorry, I speak only English) doesnt really qualify as being able to speak in Spanish. Whats more, I think it defeats the purpose.

6. Travel to Europe. “Around the world” would have sounded like such a cliche. Plus, I want to especially visit Austria for two reasons – Sound of Music and Mozart. And yeah, visit Spain and converse with the locals in their language. Why else would I have learnt spanish?

7. Win a lottery. I’m just kidding. If one could do that, this point would be on everyone’s to-do-list henceforth. What I’m actually doing is compensating the extra-long #4 by keeping this point short.

8. Learn to swim. I once nearly drowned in a kid’s pool. That too, while trying to teach one kid how to not be afraid of the water and swim instead. Ever since then, I’ve always been under this impression that if I do want a watery grave in the future, all I have to do is learn how to swim.

9. Write a book. I’ve met people who’ve told me that they’ll write a book, someday. And I used to think – so will I. That was 10 years ago. That person who said this to me is probably dead or too old to gather his wits to actually write by now. And since I havent read any book by his name, I assume that he’s not written it after all. I’d hate for it to be that way with me. So, even if no one reads my book or it doesnt get printed or I dont get famous and earn loads of cash, I’d like to leave a book behind when I finally kick the bucket. How awesome would that be!

A girl called Joy

Published on July 21, 2008 in memoirs. 5 Comments Tags: .

This is my kid sister Joy. I took these pics with my 2MP nokia phone when she was about 4 years old. (Yes, those were the dark ages when I didnt have my Cyber Shot digicam with me) but she loved posing for the camera anyways.

See what I mean? Whenever I used to get home, the first thing I used to do was take a few pics of her then itself. Joysa climbed on a bed that was nearly as tall as her to get this pic taken. I guess thats a smile of accomplishment she’s got grinning away.

She’s got the loveliest eyes. My better half once told me – “Joy’s such a pretty little thing, that too when she’s this young. Whatever went wrong with you???” Haha, such a comedian.

I guess she didnt want me to take this pic. But she looks so cute even when she’s not smiling!

Related Posts with Thumbnails