Red

I want to paint this blank canvas because its whiteness is unsettling. Dimensionless, and vast, it promises to consume everything that falls in its path, much like a raging river. I want to leash it - with intricate patterns, rebellious graffiti, vibrant colors, paint balls and tear drops.

I want it to contain something – something explicable, something meaningful, so that I don’t have to hunt for words each time I try to describe it.

I have the supplies : the paints, the paintbrush, the smock – everything that I could buy.

I still haven’t started, and the longer I stand by the easel the more I realize that its growing and becoming larger than life.

I can’t start. I really cannot. Not because I am not an artist, but because they didn’t sell clarity in the supply store. And I can’t make up my mind about what it is that I want on that canvas.

It's the good advice that you just didn't take

I think the human race is meant to thrive on irony, and has the uncanny ability to internalize the most unexpected and irrational things as its nature. As I type this, sitting in the dark, unable to sleep, I can think of several such ironies that have shaped my own rapports, relationships, and thus my outlook towards people.

Don’t we have the remarkable ability to hurt the people closest to us? Abandon the people we love so much? Ruin some of the best things in our lives, over reasons that seem trivial, minutes after the damage is done? Destroy something that we’ve always wanted, just as we are about to get it finally? Say things we don’t mean, and yet do them anyway? Call ourselves rational, and yet make decisions that we end up regretting later? Knowing that we'll be hurt, and yet, letting things be? Allowing others to be important enough...?

I confess – I have done most of the abovementioned myself, or have had them done to me, just like a majority of us.

Someone was once trying to tell me that they loved me and I was far too hurt by then to seek any sort of comfort in that love. I said I didn’t buy that and that no, they don’t actually love me. How much of that I actually meant, I don’t know. Was I angry, yes? Was I hurt, yes? But should I have said that? No. My bad? Yes.

That would be one confession that I had to make.

The conversation was never resumed – it was put on infinite hold.

Oh, how talented we are at hurting ourselves and those we love. And how we love to be trampled on. A masochist hides in all of us? Or are we plain stupid - and not the most superior species after all?

Because ass much as we seem to like to win, our conscious and rational actions and our decisions always seem to direct us towards losing - something or someone.

Irony bites, doesn't it?

One step closer

Tonight, for the first time in the past 4 years, I thought you looked beautiful. From the cab window, your skyline fit the panoramic frame well and you looked almost gorgeous. It must have been the night, the stars, the river, the bridge, and the laughter in the background. The feeling didn’t last too long, but yes, today I smiled at you.

Its like an understanding you develop with someone, who you might not particularly like, but are forced to coexist with. You learn to live around each other and make peace with your differences, and end up finding this strange sense of comfort in knowing the other is there. It doesn’t necessarily mean that you now love them, or ever will, but you can tolerate them, for the most part.

Or its like smiling at the random stranger who commutes with you every morning and gets off the same bus stop. You don’t smile at them the first morning, because you don’t know that you’ll be seeing them everyday. But as days pass, you see them, you observe them, understand their ways, and eventually reach a point when you start smiling or nodding at them every morning – a gesture, an unsaid greeting and a relationship.

I don’t know if I smiled at you because we’re finally both in a neutral zone, and have resolved our differences. Or if it was because I’ve realized you’re going to be a fellow passenger on this commute for a few more years. Either way, looks like we’re not at odds anymore.

I don’t love you. Yet.

But maybe I can make myself love you. Maybe not.

Let’s try being friends first.

Long Way Around

Lips drawn in a tight line, distant, almost lifeless eyes, and a stoic face – the mask of a typical MRT rider going back from work. Last night it hit me that I was becoming one of them – not because I was returning from work too, but because I could feel my own face tighten up as I stared into space and waited for my stop. Since I did not just get a botax, I figured there is no need to minimize any facial activity, but I couldn’t exactly strike up a conversation with a random stranger, now could I? No no, atleast not in a Singapore MRT! So I hid my face behind a book and kept tuning in and out of it, alternating between random thoughts, and following the story. Soon I was smiling to myself, and even muffling a few chuckles, because it was a rather entertaining book. Its not *haha* funny, but the imagery triggers such strong sensory responses, and you end up smiling once you realize you were so involved in the book.

Despite all this, I somehow managed to tune out from time to time to get lost in my own thinking world. While being jostled around, at one point, I was rudely shaken out of my world because of a lady with a huge bag, and I noticed the cacophony, that is the train, at such a busy hour. A few seconds in that dimension were deranging enough to send me back to my book and/or thoughts.

I fumed over some events of the day, silently vented it all out, not to the person it was directed to, but their mirror image, in my head. Felt a little better, but not quite. I smiled about the previous night, dinner with girl friends followed by hanging out at the Esplanade, lamenting, cursing and pondering over what’s in store for us, and who deserves what. I thanked whoever's in-charge, for such great girls. Tipsy and Flirty - hats off to you two.

I also played the blame game.

I blamed you for giving me the freedom to make my decisions.
I blamed myself for not being able to tame these decisions and their consequences.
I blamed you for being so loving.
I blamed myself for liking being loved.
I blamed you for being too far from my reach.
I blamed myself for having rotten luck.
I blamed you for playing hide and seek.
I blamed myself for letting you play.
I blamed you for knowing what you want.
I blamed myself for wanting something.
I blamed you for being practical.
I blamed myself for being a dreamer.
I blamed you for being strong, ruthless.
I blamed myself for not learning it from you.

Somewhere along this game, I lost track of score. Anyone of you think you're winning?

Tired of playing, I allowed myself to take a cab back from the train station.

I met a friend and plans were made. Wednesday night, ladies night. It was a coincidence, and a sign.

I looked back and decided that I had had enough.

I don’t remember ordering a side of complications, so I sent it back to the kitchen.

"Add it to the bill, if you have to. Ill even leave a huge tip."

"It doesn't matter right now, cuz I'm going dancing baby"

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*

And I'll leave this life behind me

Some bad dreams have this foul after-taste, lingering in your mouth all day, and nothing can make it go away.

And you end up living an entire day, not feeling like yourself.

Its cold, and its dark, and you don't have a clue

One step at a time.

Yesterday, I paused to think.

Today, I admit that there are some unresolved issues.

Tomorrow I’ll try to express them in words, in my own head.

Then, I’ll realize my fears and insecurities.

Eventually, I’ll accept them.

Only then, will I make myself think them through.

N then, I’ll gather the courage to talk. To admit I’m scared.

Then, I’ll talk.

N hope that there is an answer.

An answer. A solid, opaque, defined, answer.

But is there one?

Should I look for something which might not even be there in the first place?

Or just wait for it to show up and tap me on the shoulder when I least expect it?

Beautiful Stranger

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Best friends forever.

Bull shit.

As I discovered today.

There is no point in holding on to a handful of Polaroids because the color eventually fades away, and when you open that box of souvenirs, you find yourself staring at nothing but square pieces of plastic coated paper, with blurred, or better yet, no images.

Unless, of course, you take care of them. Phone calls, emails, visits. Frequent at first. n then a few. N then none. Or the customary ones. Large smiles, but no connection. At all.

A bland conversation, followed by a rushed goodbye, tc. He is guilty of the first, and I, of the second. N not it was not because I was feeling particularly bitchy at the moment. As a matter of fact, I was in a great mood, and thot it’d be great to catch up with an old old old friend. Boy, was I wrong.

Yeh, people grow up, people move on, people get distant. Should learn to let go of things gracefully. I know all that crap, and although heartbreaking at times, I have accepted it. You can say *keep in touch* to everyone, but only manage to do that with some. I get it.

But what bothers me is when someone keeps making u feel like you’re not doing enough to keep your end of the *bargain*. And claims that you are so important to them and that they care so much about you. They know you so well because they’ve known you forever, and blah blah blah.

And yet they have no clue about who you are, and what hurts you and what doesn’t. What irks you, and what pushes u and makes you go away. If they really did know you, then why would they keep the things that hurt, again and again?

I’ve changed. I know. Everyone has. He has too. We lead totally different lives, have our own group of friends, our own set of problems, our own goals, and plans. The only thing we have left in common is memories. And they’re precious. So don’t make them worthless for me.

Yeh, I’ll try to keep in touch. And yeah, next time, I am in the area, I’ll visit.

But don’t tell me I’ve changed and that I don’t care. Because so have you.

And the next time something big happens in my life, good, or bad, I wouldn’t tell you.

Cuz you wouldn’t know what it means to me anyways. Or, you’d manage to make a joke out of it, and me, while I wonder how it could possibly be funny.

Cuz you know me so well.

I won't be your winter

Those strangers that you thought you knew. But you didn’t actually.

Their cold and detached behavior should not bother you. It would anger you occasionally. It can frustrate you. But bother you, no.

Heated emotions, aren’t they, anger and frustration? Hot enough to get rid of their cold touch.

They were strangers anyway.

Stay warm.

Answer the phone

So, my cell phone is dying on me. Ordinarily, I'd be rejoicing, cuz I get to buy a new one. But not this time, cuz 1. I like this phone; 2. Its not THAT old, 6 months, 3. I'm broke! :) So when it started interrupting all my calls with this extremely annoying static buzz, I started wondering why! Oh come on, Nokias dont die out that fast!

I havent dropped it recently! I haven't flushed it down the toilet either! Then why!

n Then it hit me! Tears! Yeh, so I was crying on the phone for a long enough period of time, that the tears might have gotten in!

*yes yes, go ahead n say it, what a cry - baby! *

Anyhoo, now I'm jus amused at how my phone is probably all salty and damp inside, and frankly, I have heard of a gazillion ways how people have messed up their phones, but this one I havent across too often!

I was told I should open it up and let it dry, except this clever phone has one of those tiny screw thingis holding the front cover in place! N i cant take it apart! Oh well, till then, all calls have been diverted to Little Devil's phone! :)

A trip to the Nokia service center...blargh! :S

Other insignificant things :

• Today for the first time, my stomach reacted to curry, and not in a good way! It went all acidic n stuff! Now that NEVER happens! I used to be able to eat anything and everything, and not fall sick! *touch wood* Even my bro's cooking!
  
• I have this extremely mushy, and thus, annoying song stuck in my head! "Baby Don't You Break My Heart Slow "
• I have been awake for 19 hrs now, without a wink, let alone a nap!
  
• There are some mistakes I keep repeating, and never learn! *whack me on the head please*
  
• If I don't get back to work now, I'll be the walking definition of *screwed*

As Seether says :

"And I am aware now of how
everything’s gonna be fine one day "

If I fall down would you come around and pick me right up off the ground?

There are those who’re always there for you, no matter what. So that when you need to melt down, you actually can. They allow you to be weak, pass the Kleenex, hold your hair back, and watch you become stronger. And somehow, even when you’re at your ugliest, all red n splotchy n stinky n grouchy, they make you feel pretty. And loved.

Then there are those who’ll be there once you shout out. Just once, perhaps twice. But there, nonetheless. All you needed to do was be strong enough to shout out. You don’t call upon them often, but in those rare moments that you do, you feel blessed to have such people in your life.

N then there are those who surprise you. By watching your back and sweeping you off in mid – air before the touchdown, and putting you back on your feet. When you least expected them to. The hidden gems of your life. They’re the ones who restore your faith when you turn into a cynic.

N there are those who seem like they’ll always be there. They’re always present, always around, always willing. But when you start counting on them; believing in them. Just when you let yourself fall for it, and find yourself needing them, they’ll be missing.

Coincidence? Or have you been fooled?

Oh well, either way, 3 out of 4! Not bad, huh?

Are you still having fun?

3 am

dark alley

outside the lab

break from studying

the engineer, the little devil & the rainchild

one empty coke can

street soccer

cacophonous echoes

n its a goal

ouch!

my poor toe

Always Refreshing, Coca Cola

When you feel so tired but you can't sleep...Stuck in Reverse

Sunday Nite. 1:30am. Sitting in computer lab. Listening to Coldplay.

And wondering if and when the power struggle in a relationship ends. By relationship, I don’t necessarily mean a romantic one. Just any two people, and a hearty dosage of ego. Being a Leo, I’m guilty of engaging in these power games on many occasions. Ironically, that’s how some of my close relationships start : a lot of resistance, a lot of struggles, and a thick wall of laughter, that keeps one from getting too close and gaining too much power. But that’s just the beginning, sort of like an initiation, full of mischief, mockery, jokes and small talk. As the relationship evolves, these games become meaningless, and eventually phase out, to establish a balance. Both have now stopped playing the mind games and have accepted the power the other has over them. However, this acceptance leaves them bare, vulnerable and very dependent.

But what you do? Sort of like Jumanji, you can not leave it in the middle. It’s a dangerous game after all, and once started, it has to reach one of the two possible ends.

The Balance, or The Continuous loop, where this need for power keeps increasing, as neither is willing to give in. Jokes lead to biting sarcasm and then to bitterness; which, when harbored quietly turns malignant. This is the other possible end, as the two participants reach indifference, and walk way with their losses without meeting each other’s gaze.

Fresh strangers.

Have played this a few times. Won some. Lost others.

The unique thing about this game is that there are either two winners, or two losers.

And then there’s one that I don’t want to play. A dysfunctional game, which keeps ending, only to start again before I can even catch my breath.

Today, it had to end. I promised not to be stubborn, not to be egoistic, and was prepared to even step down a notch, just to make sure that there are no loop holes, no threads left untied.

But it takes two to tango.

Stakes raised, things said.

In the game of stubborn vs. stubborn, no one won. I wouldn’t say its lost, but definitely not over. It’s just stuck in what seems to be a never ending cycle.

N I’m tired.

I don’t want to play anymore.

You belong somewhere you feel free

I have been a lot of things, to a lot of people.

Daughter, friend, sister, cousin, confidant, counselor, punching bag, colleague, classmate, mentor, mentee. etc.

But I want to be a nobody. To you.

Sierra sunrise and Margarita

And here’s to a kick – ass weekend!

Yes, after a long long time, I had a proper weekend! U know, the time of the week when you actually get to go out, have fun, and actually relax a bit!

Dressing up pretty was a requirement, because its prolly the last time we’d all get to go out till exams! N that’s exactly what we did. (We = Little Devil & I)

M picked us up and off we were, to Arab street! The rest of the 6 ppl were waiting for us at the sheesha bar and thankfully, this place was much nicer compared to the last time! Carpeted floors, cushions to sit on, with those super low tables! So you can look all classy and laid back, with the sheesha sitting next to you, smoking occasionally, and looking slightly intoxicated. * I don’t think anyone was light – headed but it was fun to look it, with dreamy half – closed eyes and smiling away! Conversation flowed and lots of pics were clicked! Note that out of the 10 people, I was meeting one for the first time, and M n Noc hadn’t met atleast 5 of those people before. The group clicked instantly, and work stories and jokes about each other, especially, never – heard – before embarrassing stories of *ahem, first kisses, ahem* were exchanged! Mwahahaha, I know someone is reading this! *which is why I HAD TO ABSOLUTELY add this*

Then, much to our amusement, the guys were asked to leave. Apparently, after a certain time, that part of the bar was open to females only, and the guys had to step out, because the place was packed and they couldn’t find another table! N just for the fun of it, we girls decided to ditch the guys and hang out a bit longer! So we waved the guys off from the balcony with kisses n pictures and several hand gestures were seen~! ;)

Eventually we figured we’d join them and off we went for my much awaited margaritas! By now the group had grown to 14 people and it was impossible to find a table at first~ so while waiting, some of us *some = 3 girls* downed those funky shots and waited for our table! Plenty of beers, margaritas, shots, and chips, and we were one loud, giggily, n animated group! Pictures, cute guys *okay, cute guy, just one* interesting conversation *he was intelligent too* and ohh, more margaritas! N all this time, I din realize that another group of friends was sitting jus a couple of tables away, and I sooooooo hope that they din witness certain things that went on at our table! Let's jus say they were a wee bit embarressing! Went n said hello on our way out, and took along a Slightly *ahem* Tipsy friend, for cover! This moring, Tipsy was very amused and embarrassed at the same time, and I’m not sure if she remembers everything from last nite! I shall quiz her on the names of the people she met, just to make sure! ;) n then tell her that she might have been hitting on someone! *might*

I love Tipsy after she’s had a few drinks! She says the cutest things! N of course, all this time, Little Devil was downing her shots and grinning away, ready for more N at the same time, making breakfast plans for 9am on a Sunday! Needless to say, 3 very groggy girls did wake up at 9 *yes, we managed! Only God knows why!!* and went to McDonalds to meet a 4^th friend and have pancakes!

I came back and promptly fell asleep, while Little Devil and Tipsy went elsewhere! The rest of the weekend is blurred behind the sheesha smoke, and this is gonna be one Saturday Night worth remembering!

Right Tipsy? ;)