Monday, July 31, 2006

In the palm of your hand:

storytelling—in 6 words of story

“I just wanna make you feel…”

Cars screech as purple stilettos cross

Sidewalk stories are of the village

Maximum City’ evokes maximum emotional range

In safety’s net rage unfurls

Brother and sister share dangerous love

Where’re you from? You sexy thing.

Don’t leave! Sorry, the world’s waiting.

Sister, you have food? Want gum?

When in love—they said, “trippin’?”

Decadence remixed—brat pack goes global

Adopted one of hundred Guatemalan babies

Drawing parallels maintains argument without resolution

A subtle dig is compare and contrast

Thanks for the word game Princess

Saturday, July 29, 2006

Promises

Yay, I’m connected again! Actually I have been connected for a week, but I have been running around a lot.

I’ve been breaking the bank with wedding shopping. It’s probably time to stop soon. At least, I have promised myself it’s time to stop soon. I should probably promise someone else that I’ll stop soon—better at keeping promises to others than promises to my self you see.

All in all life’s peachy keen again. k passed his culmination-of-his-career-in-India exam. That was a load off for both of us.

We are busy getting all tangled up in plans for the immediate future, the not-so-distant future, and 20-years-from-now future. I have a tendency to fly by the seat of my pants and he is more inclined to plan down to the last details. So we drag ach other along the other’s path as far as we can and then plunk down to work out compromise. You could say we are working on a compromise right now.

I’m going to Delhi for a week. I cant wait to get out of the city for a bit. I’m going to chill out with family and to buy t-shirts from what I think will be the coolest t-shirt store I have ever been to. Every time I see a t-shirt that makes me think about whether someone would give me the shirt off of their back literally—turns out the t-shirt is from that store.

I’m reading Brick Lane by Monica Ali now. It’s been making waves in literary circles for a few years, and I’ve been reading about some South Asian communities viewing it as ‘controversial’. The book is about a young Bangladeshi girl who has an arranged marriage and moves to England to be with her new husband. She then negotiates the new terrain and the story is the story of her existential shift.

Hmm, during the day I think of so many things to put in this space, but by night/early morning I am too tired to remember. I’ll do some remembering and write what I mean to say more often.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

check,check

hi, internet access issues-forgot that contract expired :(... today was filled with intermittent minutes of silences to commemorate the blasts that happened last week. interesting office convetrsations about reactions in the us and europe, etc. more later.lots happening on the personal front rigth now- reality check that life isnt only about this office and the trains.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Who's the grand master?

Every time this happens—New York, London, Madrid, Mumbai—I think about ethics problems—do u save your brother or 100 strangers? Whoever is doing this is all about family objectives. For many years I have thought about the US’ positioning in the world. So when I was living in New York on September 11, 2001, I was shocked but not surprised. July 11, 2006- well, the bus stops here for me when it comes to asking why. Now, I am just so angry. Stop.

What is the point? I want to be a fly on the wall of all the rooms of all the heads of state. I want to know what they know. How long they have known? I want to know why compromises are not being bartered. I’m sure there is so much the public will not know for generations. I want to know what is at stake. I want to know how long the ‘general public’ will be used as pawns in this very decadent game of chess. Who are we trusting to make these choices about how many lives are worth sacrificing? Is all this for the greater good? Is some group threatening to blow up the world, so our leaders say, okay take a few but leave most?

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

i'm okay

The bomb blasts all happened along the Western rail line. That's the line i take to and from work everyday. Thanks to my odd hours i was not on the rush-hour train on which the blasts took place. Getting home was okay. k came and got me pretty late at night so we ran into a little traffic, but we got home in about an hour and half (normally a 20 min. drive) . People were on the road handing out water and biscuits, putting up signs for free lodging, and directing traffic. The police were escorting people from hospital to hospital to help them look for relatives. k's hospital was inundated with injured and dead. There's a blood drive on as the hospitals need blood. People here are stunned, but everyone still made their way to work. This kind of series bombing has occurred in 1993 and 2002 also. Lots of VIPs are scrambling around shouting for answers and the like. The ‘Who Dunnit?’ is not that unclear, but there is no official word as of yet. A little Google News time will fill in the details.

I am only concerned about what will happen when people are no longer stunned. Hopefully riots won’t break out. This is all a lot. July has been crazy with the flooding, the Shiv Sainik riots on July 9, and now this. The July 9 riots occurred as a political move—they had burnt buses, stopped trains, and terrorised shops into closing their shutters—against whoever threw mud on the bust of a party leader’s deceased wife. Short of the long—I’m okay, k is okay. love you and miss you guys. thanks for your concern. k :)

Saturday, July 08, 2006

Surya, namaste

Hi, things have gotten better since my last post. My mood has swung from being on the verge of tears all day (for having seen a burnt, mad kid loudly singing nonsense and squealing as he hopped on and off moving trains) to euphoria’s playground.

The kid had been in a fire—maybe someone had set him on fire. His skin was taut around his bones, and his lips had melted away.

The sun’s has come out, the rat’s no longer in the house, and my floor is dry again, at least for now. I won’t forget the kid, but I can see all the good stuff lately too. I had lunch at an outdoor café, I walked along the beach, I checked out a new neighbourhood. I’ve even started wedding shopping, and I now have four saris that I can’t wait to wear. So, life seems very manageable and problems seem less daunting again.

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

Dog-eat-dog

I think I have definitely hit a saturation point. Today, I went into the kitchen to eat lunch. As I reached toward the dhal (lentil curry), two little beady eyes stared at me. A young rat that had jumped in through the kitchen window looking for food was slowly dying from the rat poison it had consumed in the house. I didn’t know how to react so I said, “Hi, little guy.” The lady of the house walked into the kitchen and asked me who I was talking to. I said, “The little rat from the other night.” I put my plate down and walked out of the kitchen. Lady-of-the-house proceeded to try to shoo it out of the window again, to no avail. This is a symptom of monsoon- rats can’t find food outside so they come into homes foraging for food. Every person I have talked to of all different levels of snobbery all kind of grimace and say yeah, it’s monsoon.

So after skipping lunch I waded through ankle deep sewage water to thankfully catch an autorickshaw to the train station. With monsoon in full swing, and Bandra at low level, I basically wade to the train station everyday. See, to take a cab was not a good idea for two reasons. First, when it rains too heavily, the engines tend to get water-clogged and stall. Secondly, you might get pretty far along and then get stuck in some not so safe neighborhood because that neighborhood will be knee-deep in sewage water.

The train is relatively dry and more efficient than sitting in traffic only to get stuck half way to your destination. After I got off of the train I realized the area I was in was not flooded and caught a cab to the place. I was lucky to have a sweet driver who dropped me off at the doorstep, and he didn’t overcharge me.

I was worried about getting home at night as it is supposed to rain continuously and heavily for the next five days. But it cleared up enough to get home okay. I walk into my room and the walls were leaking. My room was partially flooded. I feel a profound urge to call the airline tomorrow and catch a flight to some place where daily living is easier.

I haven’t been writing to you guys of late because I feel so tired all of the time. And most of what I would like to tell you is not appropriate to say in a public space.

I try to keep my chin up most days, but I’m tired of smiling at people. I realise that as long as you say something—anything with a smile, no harm done to you.

I can’t believe the tourism dept is trying to romanticize monsoon in Kerala to trick tourists into visiting the state in the middle of the rainy season. Monsoon is not romantic. Well, maybe sometimes. But not if you have to leave your cosy abode.

This and other things are experiences I will be able to laugh about most likely by the end of 2007. I realise that k's experience of Mumbai has basically been within the compound walls of an ‘Ivory Tower’ Hospital. Luckily, I have made friends here who are street-smart and help me figure out the little messes I get into everyday.

The other day I saw male beggars fighting on the street. I thought something else was happening at first. As I stared, I realised that in their weak state that was all the strength they had- not to actual take swings at each other, but to roll around and try to smother each other's face.