Pre-Midnight

There is less than half an hour to midnight, and as I wipe away the sniffles from my cold and rather pink nose, I have finally made up my mind.

Tomorrow is less than half an hour away, while my pen is close at hand.

A new year will begin in less than half an hour, and a few minutes later it'll face its first eclipse. My diary will have faced it's first scribbles for 2010 before that. More startling things will, of course, happen in the days to come.

Snacktime

Yes, indeed! Winter is snacktime, and almost-winter is even better! Half of November has already slipped by, and the nip in the air is back, though you thought it would never make it, considering the heat of summer (which looked like it planned to stay forever) and all those nasty climate-change rumours.

In short, it was time for one of those famous samosa-jalebi parties. There are few things more satisfying than fresh, hot jalebis and samosas on a chilly evening when however bravely you might wear capris, you tend to have the prudence to team it with socks below and poncho above.

As we set out to get the goods, my nose felt cold and had, I was sure, turned a nice shade of pink: a sure sign that the weather was just right. And voila! The particular samosa-jalebi wala we patronize was surrounded by a happy looking crowd, ordering everything from pakodas to chowmein! And oh, it was the ultimate theli-wala-chowmein... you could tell just by the smell! As dad made his way through the crowd, I placed myself strategically, where I wouldn't get jostled, but would still have the aroma of that wonderful chowmein wafting by.

There is just no way I can have samosas and jalebis without thinking of nani and the numerous samosa-jalebi parties we had. I remember one we had in Calcutta, shortly before they shifted back here... through the hallucinations and confusion and everything, nani wanted to have a samosa party! She's passed her love of all things snacky and yum to me, I suspect.

As dad handed me the packet, complaining that his hands were sticky, my hands made an involuntary dive into the packet to grab a jalebi before it had the time to lose even half a degree of heat. And so, throughout the drive home, I was munching on jalebis, and then, to offset the sweetness, on the crisp sides of the samosas. No wonder I don't lose any weight.

However, as I see it, it's ok, cause I may as well enjoy it while I can. You never know about the future, specially with all the 'end-of-the-world' movies they keep making every so often. Even if they manage to save the world, suppose they don't manage to save any of the good samosa-jalebi walas??

The future according to astrologerical people isn't any more promising... if there are foreign climes on the cards, then I should actually devote every possible moment to savouring things like this, that I just know I will crave for if I can't have!!!

Interestingly, as I wrote all this, I remembered samosas being made at home in Baraut. I think that may well be one of my first memories of it!! There was always something being tried out there when we were much too young to appreciate most of it. I think I ought to try it too. I might need it in those foreign climes on a dull and cheerless day!!!

Rambling

Why should it be so difficult to realise what we are doing? While we are doing it, I mean. Why is it that it all seems to make sense and have a logic of its own and even an inevitability of some kind, but in the end, why does it all turn out to be a fabric created by own imagination, coloured by our own fanciful palette, tasting faintly burnt, specially around the corners?

While its always nice to hope that it won't actually turn out that way, why does it feel like it might? After all, it wouldn't be a really bad thing, except for the burnt around the corners part of it... that's going to be called regret, I believe. For the rest, it would be experience (though the experience may be nothing more educational than one page filled with colour for a two year old. How many pages of scrawled colour make for one pretty picture, after all?) and there is always the possibility that if I have to get it wrong, I'm getting it wrong Now, thinking that it'll turn out to be all wrong Later.

It's past three in the morning and I'm just home after a rather long movie which I quite enjoyed, though it could have done without about three or four songs that made it drag a bit; that explains why I'm rambling, though it doesn't give away Why I'm rambling thusly (wink wink)

I'm a bit disappointed with Archies Gallery. After making such a hue and cry about Daughter's Day and etc., it turned out that the only piece of merchandise that anyone would have been tempted to buy was not exactly merchandise at all. There was a nice long poster on the window of most AGs saying 'My Daughter, My Hero', with a rather cute cartoony girl under the slogan. I wanted that poster. I had already decided to stick it on the door of my room. And it isn't even merchandise... just promotional. Blah!

Heights of Sights

There is in this part of the world a rich tradition of decorating vehicles, not just with the regular pictures of peacocks, cow and calf, or flowers of various kinds, but also with written matter. There is a lot of artistry that goes into writing even simple things like 'Horn Please' (in any of the numerous spelling variants including 'Horan Pelas', among others). Some people, of course, go beyond the mundane public-service messages like 'Use Dipper at Night'*, and there is every possibility that you will get to read a nice sher or two behind the most unlikely looking vehicles. Some messages are gems.

This one says 'Jinhe jaldi hai, ve chale gaye; hum to aise hi jayenge'
(those who were in a hurry have gone, we will go like this only)

*Incidentally, I always thought 'Dipper' was some kind of a mosquito repellant... like GoodKnight or something...

For future reference...

1. Watching movies... good ones... for most of the day will definitely take your mind off whatever is troubling you, long enough for you to have one slightly less torturous day.

2. However, if you still can't get it off your mind, you are likely to end up feeling acidic.

3. If, being in this state, you can't somehow manage to do the rational thing and have some digene, you will at least be in a position to largely ignore the discomfort.

4. Having an interview the next day for something you are unsure about is not likely to help in the least.

5. A mild headache is to be expected.

6. Despite all the diversions for the mind, planned or otherwise, throughout the day there will be more moments of clarity than could be hoped for.

7. It is possible that the tension between diverting the mind away from all issues and applying the mind to the same for new and original solutions might have given rise to the heartburn in the first place.

8. At the end of the day, you may or may not have enough energy to write down everything that was learnt in the numerous inner revelations during the day; however, do your best, it's likely to be a rare something - good advice that you gave yourself.

9. It's unlikely that you will be able to take any drastic steps; however, they will start to appear entirely do-able, which is a feeling that may even make it to the next day.

10. You will realise how absolutely fantastic you are, which will make you sad when you think about how strange (and hence depressing) it is that no one else seems to have caught on to it, but then again, it will amaze you to see how that thought makes your hair look wonderful again.

Night all.

Another reason to grin stupidly...

http://poetreecreations.co.uk/the-genius-of-the-workforce/

:)

It may not mean a thing
If I hope and pray and wish
For all the best things for you
And that they should all come true
But still I do! :)

The joys of cooking!

What delicious flavours
what rich colours
blend, yet hold their own
as the ladle swirls them around
with one harmonising twist
of the cook's wrist
and with oh, such a lot of sound!
bubbling, sizzling
noisily melding
while the aroma wafts around
Soothing my tummy's growl!!!

The Genius of the Workforce

The genius of the workforce
truly can astound
They work from dawn to dusk,
or the other way round

Turn back age induced pinnochiosis
using the insitutional grindstone;
Magically create a well-rounded bottom
just working their minds to the bone

They thrive on unreal air
and grow spectacles in unreal light
One pointed devotion to that wish list
doesn't matter if it's even right

There is more, much more
that I would like to say;
About how liberating it is,
Now that i'm quitting and going away

But why not let it be for now
There is still work to do
A week to finish whatever,
then off into the blue!!


Yeah... I'm at work, and so, so bored!!!!!!

Oui, et Non...

Sometimes, some things reach such a superlative level of 'whatever'-ness, that it is mind boggling how they got this far!!! I just read something from two weeks back, and suddenly I am wondering what on earth I spend my time and energy on. It is almost as if I Want to be stupid. Aaaargh!!! And just in case it Needs to be stated yet again, I Don't Like People!

And Bleargh.

It's a Bat, Man! and other tales...

The workplace is sometimes more fun than it probably wants to be. And that is one of the reasons I am still here.

The thing is, that since I went to a girls college, the possibility of teasing friends with guys and other such juvenile fun never arose, really. And so, it was a new and altogether hilarious experience to find that workplaces can be made entertaining just by the presence of one good friend and a random collection of loser-type guys.

Now, before we get into the details, let me enlighten you about the setting of the action. Office happens to be on the top floor of an Hotel, with a nice view of Delhi. However, there is no convenient canteen type place for people to take a tea-break. But there are quite a few offices on the upper floors of the hotel and hence quite a large number of people who have nowhere to go when they want a little break. There was one little boxy room where a chai-wala made his little fortune selling chips for a rupee more than MRP and so forth, but for some reason he now is forbidden to serve any but the employees of some random office. In other words, no more merry gatherings on the fourth floor.

But it wasn't always so! Back in the days when it was the hub of all the random people of the earth, friend S and I had many entertaining conversations, many, though not all, of which involved some or the other random guy who may or may not have been eyeing either or both of us.

So if we were sitting on the stairs, and person X walked by, I would nudge her and ask "Why was that loser checking you out??" while she would raise her eyebrows meaningly and ask me in her most suggestive tone, "Poor guy, he was staring at you and you didnt even look at him... poor fellow... it's not good, A, you should not do this to people..." and so on. Person X could be a sweeper, an ageing uncle with a potbelly, a young executive type, a lawyer, or just a random entity. It didn't matter, really.

The best of the lot were probably the lawyers, who at least could be depended upon to dress decently. One in particular had the most fascinating profile. So pleased was S when I mentioned this, that she sent me to pay the chai-wala just so that I would have to walk past Mr. Side-profile and could check out whether the front view was as good. Also, she was certain that he was checking me out (as usual) and so she was doing him a big favour as well. She even messaged me when I was in Bombay to tell me that she had spotted my 'side-profile' fellow!!

I may also mention that S being a lawyer herself is convinced that all lawyers are her brothers and sisters. In other words, she put paid to all my attempts at teasing her by adopting the entire lot as long lost siblings.

Then there is Champu/Champak Charlie. Equally random, Champu works in the same office as us, and S has decided that he has a 'thing' for me. Since he is entirely weird, and we don't even know his name, we christened him Champu/ Champak, because he seems like one. Anytime he is in the section for some work, S has her 'suggestive' face on. I'm convinced he is fascinated by her, simply cause if he meets the two of us, he studiously avoids looking at her, but I'm sure he darts furtive glances her way.

The most hilarious of the lot though, is the case of the person in office who is part of the AS's staff, I think; S says he's a peon, and I suppose he must be. There comes a point where you can't be entirely sure of anything, specially when the information comes from someone who tells you (yet again) that the guy in question spends most of the day lounging around the section gazing at... who else. According to her, she has a wonderful view of the section from her desk, and since she has all the time in the world to do nothing but gaze around, she notices that this fellow is constantly staring. So she came up with this elaborate plan once, where she would message me everytime she saw him staring at me, so that I could turn and see for myself that it wasnt all in her head. Alas, all lab conditions can't be controlled, and despite a lot of (free) messages being sent my way, I never once managed to see for myself!

One strange thing about our Division, though, is that there are a lot of peons, and all of them are loud, pretty abusive, and for some strange reason, take great delight in burping horribly all the time. I suppose it's better to have loud peons with a heavy dose of haryanvi jat-ness thrown in, that to have dead bats in the air vents.

Apparently, in the days when our Ministry had newly acquired this office, they had to summon pest control a lot, cause of the various kinds of livestock that the Hotel people had bred there. Apart from the mandatory cockroaches and rats and mice, there were bats. Without too many creepy stories on that, I'll just mention that dead bats in the air vents sound even worse than live bats in the air vents. However, for some reason, I was always a little sceptical about all these tall tales as I thought they were, specially when S would point to the dark corners of the stairwell and try to convince me that she saw a bat. Until we rounded a corner one bright, sunny day, and actually saw a bat! Flying around looking confused, we thought... but right then, S came up with 'It's a bat, man!' so loudly that the poor confused bat probably got a little more confused wondring if it was indeed a superhero, recently relocated from Gotham City.

Ok, now I'm sleepy, so more tales next time.

Shenanigans

So, there's this sardarji in office.. he's the PS to the JS, and he's entertaining. And resourceful. But always entertaining. He has these fascinating eyes, which I suppose could qualify as hazel, for they are almost but not quite green.

Sardarji thinks he's smart, and therefore dresses smartly, carries himself well, and does all kinds of smart things. He also has a very smart wardrobe. All nice suits and stuff. None of your regular sarkari slackness about it. There is one, in particular, that knocks you out. It has these jazzy stripes, and the trousers and coat when worn together seem to be but one flowing tribute to a jailbird. Whenever he wears that I can Not concentrate on anything he says, for I am spellbound by his sartorial statement.

And he has the most fascinating way of talking to a person. He'll just sidle over and before you know it, he's passing on some information in the best spy-thriller manner. In the whole salary shebang, he did more than anyone else to get up some kind of rebellion to force the paymasters to dish out the good stuff. Every day he would stride over and with a conspiratorial air ask if the good comrades (us) had spoken to so and so about the money. Or, more often, he would just come to tell us the progress that he had made so far, in keeping the pressure on the recalcitrant paymasters.

Today he even imparted a pearlie of wisdom. He made me call up the people who were supposed to pay us for Dec and Jan, and after other lengthy negotiations, it so happened that we actually found ourselves most unaccountably wealthy at the end of the day... the long awaited cheques were in our hands! That was when he nodded sagely and said 'Ladies ke bolne se soft ho jaate hain sab... isi liye mein bol raha tha aapko... ' Now we know. How come it doesn't work that way in all these other situations?

A smile, a yawn and much water under a bridge somewhere

It's so hot. A week ago it was so wonderfully pleasant I just couldn't believe it. And then I went off to two hot places, and in the meantime Delhi had become a very hot place indeed, in more ways than the weather would lead you to believe. Right now all is pleasant once again, simply cause I've realised that sometimes it's better to just shut the window and put on the AC.

A nice thought is that it's less than three weeks to my birthday. Ever since a much delayed part of the still held-up salary was transferred to my account, I have been spending as much of it as the perhaps-permanently-scarred-with-the-possibility-of-penury financial part of my being allows. In other words, I have been haunting the malls and other random shops, singling out the ones with the largest 'Sale' posters, and making it a point to buy something from the places that say '70% Off!' Just to soothe myself, you know. The first thing I bought was a phone, and very pleased I am with it. Yes, that was bought at a discount too. The other shady details of that transaction I can not, alas! share here.

While on the Birthday, I wonder if I should write about the last few birthdays and all the mixed up feelings that come up if I bother to even randomly sit back in a comfortable chair and say, for example, "21" or "24" or some such. Not this time, I think. Maybe I shall write a B'day post on it, and now that I think about it, it would actually be quite entertaining to write about all that stuff. It's a thought anyhow.

Actually, it may just be that I am sleepy, but I find that I cannot stop myself from mentioning just one small little thing that ought to find a place in the possible-B'day-post. No details at the moment, but I bought myself something from Lush, and that just helped blow a little bubble that had wanted to float about for so long, but couldn't. Its a very pretty sight when loose ends are tied, even if it is mostly in your own head, and the way bubbles make the light refract is rather pretty too.

And Spring turns into Summer...

Winter swept past with a flourish...
And nothing much besides.
Now spring has risen
From her bed of flowers
Fresh and dewy, and sweet

It already feels like summer
Though what has just begun
hasn't yet sunk in
Dreams of a frosted spring bloom
Might just wither in the heat

It's the strangest thing... I've been working here for three months now, haven't even been paid yet(not even once... wonder what I'm still doing here), and am learning all about all kinds of things that I wouldn't have otherwise had the time(even in case I did have the inclination) to even look at. I'm seeing the way the government works, and am fascinated by the kind of bureaucrats we have here - they are smart people, for the most part, and now more than ever, I am convinced that I should never try for the IAS... although just yesterday it struck me during a long-ish internal debate in the bus on the way back home that a government job of the kind that would entail dealing with the kind of stuff I get, really rates pretty high if you take into account things like the variety of matters that have to be dealt with and the mental gymnastics that can entail, the easy pace that prevails for the most part, the way lunchtime and holidays are inviolate, and the fact that it's perfectly understandable if you still have huge piles of work pending on your desk but will go home at the regular time...

Also refreshing in a most surprising way is the lack of a strange kind of peer pressure, that I never noticed, but which I think I am almost missing here... or maybe it's just a different kind of the same stuff... strange little things like the meaning of a 'party' or 'treat'... here and now, it means chai, samosa and one burfi, possibly on a paper plate, more likely served on a piece of newspaper because the peon who was sent to get the plates said the funds ran a little low, perhaps on account of his having pocketed them... point is, perhaps on account of not having been paid for so long, I quite appreciate all this economy... The whole idea of always eating in a 'Bhawan' instead of going for coffee at CCD, for instance, is a rather novel experience.

The other amusing and entertaining aspects of life here, including friends and soppy soaps, I shall talk about in another post. I have some fifteen files to deal with right now, of which about five are marked 'Urgent' and 'Immediate'. Sigh. As if.

A Walk

It was such a beautiful afternoon, yesterday. The sun was shining, warming us after a chilly morning, while a cool breeze wafted by, making the branches of the trees sway gently, so that the shadows danced over us carelessly, even as a child on a high water thingy by the side of the road swung his legs idly while his mother dried her hair and gossiped with her friends, sitting there on the sidewalk. Some days reveal their beauty so unexpectedly, that it takes your breath away.

Hairy Tales

In the days when dad sported an enforced punk hairdo, we came across this interesting signboard.

'God is Great. God Makes Men.
We make them Gentlemen'

Small Joys

What an entertaining thought it is, that wherever I go, I find myself in familiar surroundings. Whether it is the bus or the workplace, the market or a conference, everything manages to settle itself very comfortably around the way my world functions. With a smile and some colour, almost everything can work the way best suited to my system.

There is perhaps only one thing that just doesn't work the way I want it to, that unsettles every comfortable situation and confounds my best efforts to lessen the turbulence.

The other day, I was wondering how it was possible to be as random as people in my present workplace are. I'm in the process of studying them and will soon write at length about what the old sarkari daftar can do to you!

On a related note, the latest thrill in my life is writing 'official' letters. It is a fascinating art, and one that can create much amusement even in an otherwise dull and sleepy day.

Ah, the small joys! I wonder if I can take much more of this fabulous existence!

Happy Birthday, Mom!!

Flowers, and more flowers!!!!

A Mix-up

We find such deep meaning
in tea leaves and TV
Such profound truth about ourselves
in what others do.
It feels like it's too much to take,
Or too little to drown in...
It's half wet, half done,
half a pillow, half a touch.
It's a twinkling light
halfway across the world
that echoes within, and yet...
It's done, it's gone.

Morning Blah

* There will soon be a nice happy post here!!! However, that will be written when I'm home... till then, it shall have to be this!


This morning, I intended to wake up at four thirty, since there was a lot of work I wanted to complete, and the electricity situation is such that early morning is the only feasable time to get any work done without power cuts interrupting the flow. However, I didn't feel up to it, and an hour later, there was no light.

Yesterday was nice. Though largely unplanned, it was great fun, right from loitering around M-Block, to watching the strange procession, to wandering around the gardens and wonderfully restored structures of the Humayun's Tomb complex. Sadly, there wasn't enough camera-power to go around!

There is a strange meeting today, that I am supposed to attend for some strange reason. And this morning, I couldn't find the jacket I wanted to wear, I forgot to pick up my muffler, and broke a button of the coat I ultimately wore!!!

Let us see what else happens.