The shorter story

My friend and I talked about stories yesterday. How some ended so abruptly, with so much left unsaid, so many spaces left blank.

Emotions left bottled up, having conversations with a genie whose on strike. He refuses to grant you your three wishes. Emotions try to negotiate, atleast one..grant me atleast one...

I dislike abrupt endings. Things should flow smoothly. They should end with dignity and peace. They should be real and pure. They should feel like the waves splashing at your feet on the beach. The ones that always seem to withdraw with grace...

To Sheece, with lou:D

And today I dedicate this post to Sheece Baghdadi, who has kindly written a comment for every post I have on this blog:) Sheece sent me this email over a year back. And it's one of the best emails I have ever recieved:)

" Finding God at Prithvi Theatre

I was there, I saw and heard her sing Kabir's doha's and Gorakhnath's bhajans and couplet from Ghalib. It was as if the poetry that was written long ago was finally complete. They were offered to God in complete humility and I could see them all smiling, including God. There was a blue-pink aura that had spread across Prithvi Theatre and the small audience of 50 was really lucky to be there. Miracles are only witnessed by a few.Nothing else has made me feel more aware of the presence of a greater consciousness amidst us than the combination of the music, the voice and the poetry that I heard yesterday. Even as I write, I feel like I am taking away its beauty. If I had died in that moment, it would have been the most beautiful death. I wonder if I experienced heaven for a bit.Of the many churches, mosques and temples that I have visited, none of them have compared to Prithvi Theatre in being the place where I have experienced turmoil and peace in such a manner so as to ultimately be embraced the greater consciousness. And on my way back home, I would wonder 'do the artists know, what they have done?'"


(written after witnessing the performance of Kala Ramesh and her troupe at Prithvi Theatre)

Infinite dots in a circle

If life could circle around music and sport, it would constantly be stimulating to live it.

If life could take a walk down a beautiful road with a book or a lover, it would constantly be stimulating to live it.

If life could give you wings to fly above the elements that confine you, physically and mentally, it would constantly be stimulating to live it.

If only life could constantly make poetry appear like prose gone wild...you would see rhyme where there's none...

like here.

A man named Jim

Jim Purrington sits next to me at work. He is an amazing man. I really admire and respect him. He has travelled the world and has a son who is working in the Swiss Bank and a daughter who is a doctor in Istanbul. Jim and I talk about everything under the sun, from religion to physics to skype and governments. We also talk tennis from time to time. Jim is the ranking coordinator for my section of the US Tennis Association.

Jim is a workaholic. "I love what I do" he said to me today. I was thinking in my head, I wish I could say the same thing when I am 60:) He talks to himself when he works too. Very amusing sometimes. He works so much that he forgets to eat.

Today after much persuation and almost a tantrum throwing from me, he got up picked up his lunch bag and went to eat. He did not return for quite a while. And I began to wonder if I overdid it.

Jim returned an hour later. He came upto me and said "I have a mother, 3 sisters, a wife and a daughter, but you are worse than all of them put together". I began to apologize when he handed me a bunch of wild flowers he picked on a walk outside the office. "Thank- you for being you" he said:)

I can take a road that'll see me through...

Its nice sometimes, when your sitting alone in a bus and its taking you to this destination that you want to get to. And you have your ipod switched on, your headphones on and you shuffle through songs and songs, to find that one perfect song that fits that bus ride. You watch car tyres rolling by and look up at the clouds to see stillness.
I love rides in busses, trains and cars. I love listening to music when I take these rides. It gives me a sense of joy and freedom, if only for a minute or two..
Yesterday i sat in the car and as my brother drove, A. R. Rehmans' Vande Mataram began. And it was such an overwhelming moment. Everytime that song began I would look at the soil of my land. But my land was no where in sight this time. I closed my eyes and thought about the streets of my country India. The lanes where children played cricket, where the garbage hadn't been collected, but rain water had, in tiny puddles or huge ditches, where chalk drawings were made by kids on the road, the rickshaws rolled by...
I miss those lanes...those lanes i miss.

Give or Take?

And as i step into a new phase of my life, I begin to think if my core has really changed. I don't think it has. I still laugh loudly, express myself with my eyes, cry at the drop of a hat and wonder about life, dreams and love. My essence will remain the same, like yours.
Fitting into 'Corporate America' doesn't fit me. It picks up a fight with my very essence. Everyday it's a battle between the mind and the heart. And no one emerges victor. I go to bed thinking "am I a business woman or a social worker?"

The truth is, I would learn business to do social work. But its hard to make those two go hand in hand in your head. And whilst I learn business, where does the social worker go? Does she sit and wait? Is she patient? Does she lose to the enterprising business woman, who makes the big bucks and has the titles to her name. Does she watch in despair as the business woman shuts the door in her face?

I don't know. I feel her from time-to-time as corporate America tries to woo the business woman in me. I shall not succumb, I say to myself time and again. But then I think, if my essence remains the same, maybe she wont leave. Maybe she will wait outside and be patient like she always has been. Maybe she'll shed a tear or two at how much things have changed. How dreams have changed. And how people have changed...

But she will not leave, she is determined, she has more passion than the business woman, she is deeper and more sensible. She is more detatched but is more passionate all at once. She will come back. But for now, she waits...

When i left India, i thought in my mind i am going out to explore the world...i never quite realised i was carrying with me a part of the world that very few really knew and understood.

So i enter the United States and I explore, the minds of the 'developed' nations, the avid followers of the North American sport culture ... and i realise they explore me more than i explore them. I came in here knowing that I wanted to increase my knowledge...I had an idea of what i would be studying, the kinds of people I would be interacting with...the kinds of conversation i would be having. And there was the American with no idea of what to expect from this crazy 25 year old Indian girl. They went where I led the conversations to, listened to what I told them. To them, I was the 'rest of the world' , the kind they possibly never needed to interact with. Through my eyes they saw president bush, the war against terrorism, the fanaticism of cricket and religion, the poverty and hunger stricken humans who walked the farms that faced the wrath of draught and famine, the spirituality of the hindu, the peace of islam, and the nirvana of buddha...
So I ended classes yesterday..and I hugged my closest classmate. She just stared back at me and she whispered thank you. i was like "for whattt!" "I have understood so much about the world because of you".
I smiled.
This journey finally seems worth it:)