Posted in Midnight musings

Now and then

Why do some things suddenly flash in your mind. I am thinking of a better way to explain this. But, there are these pieces of memories that you know by heart. It’s a few seconds flash, a small clip of that time. You know it so well. The colours, the smells, the time, the people. I am not talking about memories as such. Just those kinds which you know so well that for those 5 seconds you can’t understand how so much time as passed between then and now. Because you remember it so well. It could be the middle of the night, but your nose can suddenly smell the green in the summer air. It’s dead silent, but you can hear the bell that rings before the exam and the scraping of pens and scales against the desk. Your eyes are closed, but you can see the pair of eyes look up from the book to you. And then that moment ends, and you again hear the constant whirring of your ceiling fan. You’re back in present, but you wonder how you reached here so quickly from that time. Where did everything in between go. For a period of time, there only exists now and then. You’re not sure that anything else happened in the middle.

And you try to retrace the memory in your mind over and over again. Maybe hoping to actually visit the time again, but its not as perfect as that 5 second flash – that happened suddenly – now and then.

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Posted in Finding Inspiration, Random

Why I am sad today

I am sad every day almost, I guess — okay mostly, not every day. But this is the ‘why I am sad today’ list. Some are things that I always worry about some are just blekh.

Anyway.

  1. I could not do yoga today, I know it is not a big deal but it might hamper my weight loss goal that I have set for myself.
  2. I am questioning my creative capabilities. I cannot remember one original idea I had or one meaningful from start to end thing that I wrote that I can be proud of.
  3. I am feeling very average — which is not a problem — but I am getting anxious about what will happen in the future.
  4. I realised I am 23, I do not know why I forgot and thought I am 22. I am actually 23 and a month now, so okay the confusion because of that. I am not sad because I am ageing but because I think time is running too fast and I am not doing enough.
  5. I realised that a lot of ideas and opinions of mine are very utopian, and I might have to deal with that.
  6. I also realised that in ‘real life’ people favour snooty people and not hard-working people always and how the world is unfair that way.
  7. I am sad because I realise that I am sounding so righteous in the above two points when I am just one of the dumb people operating in this world.
  8. I am sad because I do not know what is going to happen and whether I will be able to handle the things that WILL happen.
  9. I am sad because I am in a fix whether I should shift to some other city for better career prospects, or stay at home and wait another year and finish the things I decided — which I did not do last year.
  10. I am sad because I do not know who to ask for help, and I do not know what purpose does writing here solve.
  11. I am sad because I have started feeling that everything is meaningless.

BYE.

Posted in Uncategorized

How do you preserve a memory

I don’t think we have made any technical advancement until we can retrieve a memory and play it on a screen — like a Penseive in Harry Potter.

How do you preserve a memory? Does going through it over and over again in your head, keep it as fresh as it was the first time it happened. Doesn’t time rough it up a little? How do you make sure you remember every single thing about every single thing? I have never met anyone with a photographic memory? What happens to those people, do they remember everything in its entirety and exactness?

My mama has been battling cancer everyday for the last few years of his life. It’s gotten so bad now that all his memories are muddled. I don’t know why typing all this sounds rude to me, like I am making a mistake… But it’s the truth, everything is jumbled up in his brain. But, we and I still remember everything quite nicely — like not episodes but  flashes. We used to go to his house in summer vacations, so there exist 3-5 second clips of our stay during that time. The yellow walls, the big room, the airy terrace, the scooter rides, the visit to chaat corner. Not the entire event, but in bits and pieces. I remember mama too, I know I sound so dramatic, that I remember him and all, I remember him in conscious memory and it is not a big deal, but you know from when I was a child.

Specially the scooter rides, I don’t know what he did when he stressed on a point, was it a slight tilt of the head, or a click of the tongue, it’s difficult to describe, one of my cousins still does it. I hate this talking in past tense. I don’t understand it, but it is the truth. I remember more things, too personal to write. The tall frame, the kindness, the love and care — all this and much more surrounded by the yellow walls. This thing is vague, I know there is no point, I just want to write because it might help me ease the confusion.

Back to where I was.

As we grew up, we got busy in our lives and we no longer met everyone in our family every year, but you know that everyone is going to be there at the same place and you can have all those scooter rides, and softy and water park and elephant park and boating in Ganga anyday, you just have to pack your bags and catch the train. There is still time, we have to study for the exam now.

But, then the exams didn’t end and the institutions changed and now maybe we will never be going back to the same place ever again. The yellow walls will be there always, but the love and care is threatened. And I have been trying so hard to preserve that. To keep it safe. Lock it somewhere. So that I can recreate it again if we ever have a technology. But we don’t, so what should I do now? What if when there does exist such a thing, we have to choose only a few. Which one do I save then? How do I go back to the original file, feel everything so that I can retrace it. What should I keep, the time when I was 5 and jumped idiotically from my mama’s piggyback and landed chin first on the floor — I still have a scar from that, or the one when I did not ‘make time’ to meet him when he was in Delhi for work, or just the yellow walls and blue scooter rides?

Posted in Finding Inspiration

Finding Inspiration #4: How India can do without Japan’s bullet trains

I am sitting in front of my computer thinking of words to write…

I am hungry again. I just had two sandwiches, like an hour ago. When I get tensed, I eat a lot.

When I was in Class 10 and I was worried before my first board examination (simpler times) I could not eat anything.

This stuffing my face development is new.

Food has started giving me comfort that I cannot find in words — written or spoken. The crisp wafer or the oily French fry tells me everything that I want to hear in the moment without making any noise.

My mother on the other hand when she is worried about something (which is rare because she is so strong) does not eat anything or cannot eat anything.

If I had to have an eating disorder, why could it not be the one that helps me lose weight?

Needless to say I am worried. I am worried a lot these days. I hate my mind, always over analysing things to the point that makes me just want to pull my hair and scream and ask it to shut up. It is supposed to be my support system, but it is my worst enemy.

Right now too, my heart is beating very fast. Words do not come to me easily at such a time, and I start questioning the purpose of this whole exercise. If trains in India travelled as fast as my heart we would not need Japan’s bullet trains. However, the only thing that can match up to my heart is my mind, which surprisingly is never tired. Always running mad.

After making that allegation I was reminded of a lot of situations when my mind was completely blank. I know people say that it is a big thing, but it happens to me. For a long time I do not think about anything, it is quiet and peaceful and calm. Such moments are prized.

Recently, the longest I went without thinking anything was 2 hours or something. It was in Andamans. The staying blank was due to no credit of mine, just the beauty and placidness of that place. Someday I wish I am equipped enough to write a travelogue so that I can keep that experience safely for myself. I do not want to attempt it even, because I do not think I can do justice to what I saw. The massive ocean, and the knowledge that you are so very small in the entire mechanism of things. When we were in school, there was a line in a chapter in hindi — ‘Woh drishya toh dekhte hi banta tha’ — meaning that only when you see it do you get it and I thought that this is just a literary device, trying to induce mystery in beauty, but when I went to Andaman I realised that the writer had not put the sentence there because of literature but simply because she accepted the exquisiteness of nature.

One of the days in Andaman, we were in a car, on our way from point A to point B — with trees on either side, long unwinding undulating roads. Everywhere you look there is green. Nothing is brown. Even the barks are covered with moss. Rainforest. My first time in a rainforest. Green, green everywhere. Wherever there is a possibility of of growth, there is something.

A sapling, a twig, a creeper, a big tree, a small tree leaning on a big tree, a small plant growing on the small tree. Green. The only colour you see.

Quiet yes. But there is so much activity going on at that moment. If you are very very quiet I think you can hear a root digging deeper into the soil, or a creeper strengthening its hold on a branch, or just a shrub finding more space to grow.

It was so heartening to see that something or the other was growing out from even the cracks that had developed between the cemented portions of the road.

Which made me think, how much determined we must be to destroy the forests and the environment, because it is so powerful and stubborn itself to grow on everything that is capable of life. It grows, unabated taking everything in its fold, it does not care whether there is a sewer next to it or waterfall — unbiased, it spreads, until we step in.

Maybe someday we will understand that we cannot take nature for granted, when it will be too late, it is already too late. Maybe someday I will stop eating when I am tensed, or stop getting tensed all together. Maybe someday we will have trains that run as fast as my heart. Maybe someday I will understand my things are so unrelated in my mind, and why I cannot thread a thought together.

Until that day, I will wait and write stupid blog entries that make no sense…

 

Posted in Finding Inspiration, Midnight musings

I don’t want to be the blooper girl

I introduced an error in a newspaper report that went into print yesterday – which is a sin in print media. An editor is supposed to pick out the error not insert any. We had to issue a corrigendum. I am ashamed. I always take care while editing, even minute things that do not matter anymore. But I do, because like I have said multiple times I love my work. I always try to put in extra effort so that whatever I do is good for the paper and my self and yet it happened. It had to happen, when I was adding the line something went off in my brain but I ignored it, it had to happen because people usually re-read copies but somehow that point was missed. I am ashamed that it is my fault taht something like that has happened. I know, for everyone it’s like a normal day in the life of an editor and yes I agree. It’s not the end of the world. Tomorrow is a new day and people will forget about it might have already. But I cannot, it seems much more bigger to me. It is an indication that no matter how hard I try, I falter. Unknowingly. I get distracted or I miss something or I just don’t know. Why did it happen to me and not the other people at work who do not work as hard as me? Do I think too highly of myself. I have found, proof-read, polished errors in copies edited by other people before – did I think no one will be able to find in mine? I wanted that to be the case.  I have let down the people who thought I could do some work. Why I have come here instead of scribbling in my notebook is beside me. The tap tap of the keypad is a better distraction than the scratch scratch of the pen in the middle of the night. I did not want answers I wanted to vent and find the strength maybe to go to work again tomorrow. I know it’s not a big deal but I don’t want to be scared of making mistakes. If I am then this will be the last mistake I will ever make and most probably the last time I learn anything. But I don’t want to be the blooper girl. I don’t want my life to be riddled with mistakes. I don’t want my career in journalism to become like my life – vague and plain.  I want it to go where I want it to be. More than often I feel that right now I am just flailing my arms in the ocean. I want to stop swimming and I know if I do I will drown but I don’t wanna drown. And I feel like I am just about to drown every week. 

And I don’t wanna drown. But most importantly I don’t want to be ‘the blooper girl’. 

Posted in Midnight musings

Tired but not sleepy

I am tired but not sleepy. I was sleepy few hours ago in office when I wasn’t tired. Work has been busy for the past two three weeks. Busy is good. But, too much good is bad. Hence, every night – tired but not sleepy. Which transalates to awake but not active in the morning. Funny how coffee/tea helps some people, doesn’t help me, momentarily yes.

My body is a big believer of Newton’s Law of Motion (I know stale joke). If at rest, will be at rest. Workouts these days are so exhausting – every single cell in my body asks me to hide under the blanket and go back to sleep. My 50-year-old mother is more active than me. One day she said she would massage my back because I was stooping like an old lady, felt so ashamed. Her legs pain at times, when she runs around a lot doing all of our work, but her daughter is already 129 years old.
I have had too much work since last few weeks, she has had too much work since my elder sister was born. How do mother’s have so much of strength. I was thinking about a time when I would be an adult, and live alone in a house. It will be in such a mess, even though I am a very clean person, not neat maybe, but clean. I don’t have that much energy as her.

This time also I must just force myself to sleep, but forcing never helps. The train of thoughts starts running at 1000 km/hr and no one can pull its brakes.

I just told a friend today about how I would have liked to attend the Arundhati Roy event in Delhi, but I was not in the city. And there are many more things that keep on happening that I would like to attend. So I decided that the best way to make it possible would be to buy a helicopter. This year I bought a cycle and a car now I want to buy a copter. With this, my list of things that I would want to buy (if possible/make possible) stands at.

  1. That abandoned bungalow at Kasturba Gandhi Marg.
  2. That abandoned bungalow at Number 10 market
  3. Caravan
  4. Helicopter

Only 4 things.

I realised another thing today. Whenever somebody talks about stakeholders (which happens a lot in journalism) my mind immediately flits to a  steak. And I get beautiful images of hot, steaming food. Weird.

This is the thousandth time I have used the word. Weird.

Should be improving my vocabulary, but it’s stuck on those few words/phrases that you can’t stop using like – confused, anxious, annoyed, idiotic, stupid, shit, like, you know, as in, I mean, weird. I don’t know. Tired. Not sleepy. Sleepy. Not tired.

Posted in Midnight musings, Random

There is a lie you partake in

procrastinatingtanya

There is a lie you partake in.

It’s beautiful, so much that you do anything to not let it break. It’s so carefully constructed that you can’t see the truth that has been buried behind it.

If at all, the truth tries to find it’s way out, you quickly find that beautiful lie and hide behind it.

I was a part of a lie too — so beautiful that nothing else has ever come close.

It was my seed, but two other people watered it daily, one more than the other.

It grew up big and strong, so big that it consumed me.

The truth came forward many times, trying to talk to me, but I didn’t want to hear it because of the two people who kept my beautiful lie safe for me.

I always knew the seed was faulty, something I had scrounged for in the storm.

The…

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