Other Side

Its amazing how two extremes can be separated by a very thin line, instead of a wide range of options varying in intensity.

One gentle nudge is enough to push you to the other side of the line, oh so easily...cuz its only a thin thin line between

• love and hate (cliche, yes...even I roll my eyes at this. But come on, ya know its true)
• a confidant and a stranger
• concern and indifference
• comfort and discomfort
• hugs and crossed arms
• black and white. (no one likes gray, so don't even go there)
• home and hostel
• rage and tears
• castles and plain ol' sand
• a pyramid and scattered cards
• life and death (no DUH)

n yadi yadi ya...

Edit. Save. Shift Delete.

I want the arrow keys to go back to something that was said or done previously. I want a backspace key to delete, and an insert key to type over, as many times as I wish to. I want to save the changes, only after all the mistakes have been corrected and actions, undone. I don't want any signs of the previous errors on this document.

I want to space out and indent events so that it’s one clearly formatted and aligned document. What I don't want is a piece of paper that has multiple scribbles, doodles and words that have been scratched out later, in a vain attempt of damage control. Because they are still there, beneath the frantic scratches, that never conceal them completely. No, correction tape would not do either, its transparent when held against the light. Completely see through.

I want classy fonts, wide margins, and endless white space, to write it out the way I want. I want it to look pleasing to the eye, my eyes. Justified, bulleted, numbered, double spaced. I want to highlight and underline the significant ones and italicize the unique, eccentric ones.

I want to double click on the words I hate. And with one hit on a key, I want to wipe them away.

Delete. Words. Sentences. Paragraphs. Documents.

I want to be able to delete and send to recycle bin. Keep them there, just in case.

And when they become too hard to deal with, I want to be able to empty the recycle bin and make space.

Or perhaps, just shift + delete them in the first place.

Buses and Trains

Unfortunately, this Sunday didn’t see the bright and sunny start that I’d hoped it would, both literally and figuratively. It was pouring till late afternoon, and I finally forced myself to get out of bed sometime around 2 pm. Consequently, the agenda for the day had to be adjusted: from “visit to the national library, return books at NUS library, grocery shopping, laundry, check out houses, and dessert with a friend” to “return books to NUS library, take a good book, and sneak off to the nearest Starbucks for some thinking time.”

Of course, none of that happened. Decided to leave misery behind in bed, and showered and went off for lunch with the Engineer and another friend. It turned out to be rather pleasant affair as the other friend and I, who don’t know each other too well, found we had so much in common! Plans to get together later were made and the Sunday was beginning to look a little better.

Then the Engineer’s friends called to play basketball and off we all went! I still cannot believe how I, who's shy about playing any sports with strangers, agreed to go right away. I don’t think I’ve played bball in over 5 -6 years, and it was an extremely refreshing and partially nostalgic experience! Played with a whole new group of people who I am hardly acquainted with, but a good game, great sportsmanship and some very friendly people, made sure that I had a great time!

N I have an ‘almost crush!’ Almost because its not really a crush, but rather just admiration for a cute guy who can play well! *giggles* (operative word being cute ) and the Engineer and I have decided to call it a crush because it makes life more interesting. Yes, that’s how dull it was looking otherwise! So *snickers* I have a crush!

By the time I got back to my room, the day was looking much better and it seemed like the whole morning hadn’t taken place…or must have, but in another dimension! But once you sit and catch your breath, the day catches up with you to remind you that it was all real. Oh well!

New week, new start, new plans! Perhaps we’ll manage to kick off tennis and guitar this week! *Fingers Crossed*

And, I soooooooooo want my dessert! NOW!!

Sigh.

P.S. "Buses and Trains" is a song by Bachelor Girl

“Where are you from?” – Part 1

“Where are you from?”

One of those questions which I have several answers to, and yet, I pause, hesitate, or even fumble, depending on the situation, before I can blurt out an answer. And more often than not, I am not satisfied with it.

Like the other day, I was filling in my particulars on Facebook, and didn’t know what to put in the “Hometown” Field.

New Delhi, INDIA?

That’s what it says in all my official forms.

Country of Birth: India.
Nationality: India.
Race: Indian.

Says so on my passport too, which I’m very proud of. But do I really feel like India’s home? It’s been 3 years since I last set foot on Indian soil, and every time I do go back, a new India greets me. One where I feel like an alien because everything’s changed so much from my previous visit and the India I took back with me. It’s probably a good thing anyways.

There’s not much that calls me back.

Friends – One? Two? Who I haven’t met in 5-8 years because after leaving the town we left in, my parents didn’t leave too much behind which compelled them to go back to it. Family friends moved out as well, and our trips back to India were so busy and short, that fitting in all the close relatives took up most of the time. At the age of 10 – 11, keeping in touch through letters was exciting at first, but eventually more interesting things, such as adolescence happened, and soon writing letters became too tedious. By the time e-mails became commonplace, friendships had faded.

Family – Relatives. Grandma, Uncles, Aunts and cousins are probably the main reason why I do miss India. At first, phone calls were made regularly to keep in touch, but IDD rates limited the time and thus the conversation to mainly pleasantries and a general overview of everyone’s well being. Cousins grew up and scattered all over the country for education and careers, and meeting everyone became close to impossible. Weddings were missed because of school, and thus I couldn't attend the few occasions on which my generation of the family got a chance to get together. Emails and IMs help in maintaining the ties, but barely. University life and jobs keep us far too busy to keep in touch. News and photos of major events are circulated, but that's about it.

Home – I never had a hometown. I always envy people with hometowns; places that have seen them grow, and have grown with them. Places where they can actually compare old photographs from and discuss how things used to be back when we were young. Visit parks as toddlers in strollers, as kids, playing hide and seek or tag, as adolescents, hanging out with the gang, as teenagers, sneaking off to make out, and as parents, who can bring back their kids to these places and say : this is where I used to play when I was your age.

*Nickleback : Photograph*

I don’t have a park or a playground...

I have faint memories of the houses I’ve lived in. We moved twice, once when I was very young, and then when I was older, 11 I think, when we moved to Thailand. On my first trip back to India after moving out, I went back to the city I used to live in to find my old house. The landlords (the house owner, who used to live on the first floor) and the neighbors remembered me, and it was all warm n nostalgic till I realized that now there are strangers living in my house. My hop scotch and the pencil mark on the wall showing my height, had been painted over. The kid who I’d left my bike with had outgrown it and passed it along to some other kid, who I didn’t know. Although the strangers welcomed me in and asked if I wanted to look inside my old house, I didn’t go. I never went back to that lane, that city again.

I am still drawn to the country. I miss the cousins. I miss the uncles and aunts. I miss my Grandma.

But somehow, the answer :

I am from India,

Is left hanging, with an unsure, incomplete feeling.

A sentence, truncated at a comma.

When I grow up...

As you grow older, you stop making best friends. You just make friends.

Random Thoughts Generation

It’s about day dreaming about the impossible – only because you know it will never be real.

It’s about lecturing the little brother about something; because you learnt from your mistakes, and don’t want him to make the same ones.

It’s about saying a prayer for someone else before going to bed

It’s about sighing over the goodbyes that were incomplete, and wondering how they could have been oh so perfect.

It’s about knowing what’s practical, preparing yourself for it, and yet, not being able to do it.

It’s about mastering the art of putting on the deceptive faces: the laughing one, the smiling one, the intellectual one, the pensive one, the delirious one, the calm one…

It’s about sensing when a perfectly nice evening is about to be scarred, and yet not being to avoid it.

It’s about an ‘out – of – the – blue’ conversation with an old friend, and reviving the innocence and simplicity in relationships.

It’s about being old enough to share your mother’s worries.

It’s about the hesitation over whether to move forward for a hug, or to protect yourself.

It’s about making mid – year resolutions, and telling yourself its never too late!

*incomplete*