I do not like cats.

This post is going to offend a lot of cat lovers. But I am happy ruffling some feathers. Or some fur :)

I do not like cats. Such feeble, obnoxious creatures, with nothing to show for their arrogance. Despite them looking good and being soft to the touch, they have no personality, no strength, no capabilities. And most of all, no loyalty. No loving, caring nature.

I do not get people who like cats either. They tend to be cat-like too, a bit too airy and surface-skimming for my taste. There is no weight, there is no depth. I generally dislike things without a weight. The society we live in is bubblegum enough.

I adore dogs. They are so very lovable, whatever the kind or gender. Such gentle yet powerful creatures, so humble despite their formidable personalities. I cannot simply imagine, a life without one, two or three of these adorable, beautiful beings. They are family.

I like people who like dogs. They tend to possess some of the dog-like qualities that I so adore; big, warm beings, with big, warm hearts. Weighty, well-grounded and often, deep. Real people.

Dogs are loyal, loving and true. Cats are opportunistic, moody and unreliable.

And as they say, there are cat people and then there are dog people.

I do not like packing. It is cumbersome and unnecessary. I tend to put it off till I can no longer put it off. Like I am doing now. I like travelling light, but can't afford to do so at this point as I have my clothing and reading needs. I have realized that I may have to get myself a mobile library to carry with me all the books I want to take whenever I go somewhere. Sigh...the many trials of a book lover's life.

Besides, packed bags always make me sad, although I do not often know what I am sad about.

I often forget that I'm an "author". They call me that and I'm not quite sure if I am in fact, that. It's a big word, quite a big word and I feel myself to be quite small for it. Like an ill-fitting dress three times my size. I need to grow into it, plump myself up quite a bit before I wear the suit in pride. There is a long, long way to go. It feels strange typing it too. So I often forget that I must take along some of my own books whenever I attend a writers' festival or etc. I almost forgot it this time too.

Sad. Nobody to pester Daddy Dearest into eating right while I'm gone. Nobody to make sure Franky boy stays out of mischief too. A small, sharp string of pain twinges and whips about like a stray piano wire inside.

I'm sure I'm being silly. It's only for a little while.

How is the vacation, they ask

"So how goes the vacation?" asked an acquaintance just recently.

......and I wondered where to start.

Do I tell him that I get to sleep 8 or more hours a day finally? Do I tell him that I wake up smiling and laugh way more than I used to before? Do I tell him that I find myself dancing in the shower again? Do I tell him that I walk with a spring in my step and practically waltz my way around the house? Do I tell him that I now read what I used to read in 2 months in just 2 days? Do I tell him of my travel plans, the likely adventures, the memories I finally have time to make? Do I tell him that I break into impromptu dance routines in the middle of the living room/kitchen/garden, etc when I think nobody's watching? Do I tell him that my skin has drastically cleared up and I'm practically glowing that people wonder if I am actually, pregnant? Do I tell him that I now have more time for people and animals who matter to me? Do I tell him that when words do come, I give them the respect they deserve and am ready for them with pen and paper? Of course not.

So I just said "Good. Vacation's going good."

And that's the truth. Lady Grouch is happy.

Time is spent devouring books and happily drifting away into my own little world. Started at the bottom of my to-read book pile (it was reaching skywards and was threatening to topple over) and I have finished a significant amount by now. Just a few more to go. Doesn't hurt that September and the Book Fair isn't too far away to replenish either.

Other times, I cook. Mother Dearest being out of the country these days, almost all the cooking in the household is done with my own two hands. I enjoy quality time in the kitchen. Music playing in the background, knife in hand chopping up chicken liver, smashing garlic and ginger together, brandishing bunches of curry leaves and cilantro at unsuspecting pots and pans, beating unruly pie crusts into submission with a rolling pin, I am in my element. Everyday paves way to a new creation. Which Father Dearest gobbles up happily of course.

That is not to say that I don't work. The lady has her expenses you know. With my laptop on the balcony or on my comfy seat surrounded by my mother's exotic tropical garden (she calls it that, I call it a jungle) and Franky boy by my side, I am one happy working woman. Anyways, the point is life is good.

Flying off in a matter of days, a well needed change of place and faces, away from certain aspects linked to certain negative experiences, a negative way of life in the past. Only thing, planes keep on crashing! Wondering if that's God's way of saying stay put. Oh well, you only die once anyway. But happiness? You grab it while you still can.

Balmy Saturday, pleasantly warm, a slight breeze playing with the tissue-like petals of bougainvilleas outside. A pleasing sound. If serenity had a sound, this would be it. The night is young still, yet I retire to a quiet cosy corner with a paperback stranger that is yet to become a friend. My companion for the night will be Alice Munro's 'Dear Life'. A slim book, yet looks promising. 

The Last Fruit Salad

I had my last fruit salad today.

Not that I'm never going to have fruit salads again. Just that I will not have a fruit salad quite like this fruit salad again.

It all started like this. When things get unbearable at work, I'd go downstairs and get a fruit salad. I'd sit there and eat it, amidst the sea of noises in absolute privacy. This was my time of the day, my moment with myself and my thoughts, alone, thanking the Gods of Fruit Salad for the creation of something oh-so divine. I've grown so fond of these moments overtime. They were an absolute necessity.

Last day of work. As relieved and light-headed I may feel, I thought I'l feel at least a certain degree of sadness. But I don't. So many people that I've grown fond of overtime have left and there's practically nobody to feel sad about leaving behind. Or maybe I've struck off the nerve of sensitivity somewhere along the line.

And then I thought about what I would miss. I would miss the long ride to work in the morning in that half-asleep state of mind, listening to my favorite tunes on the iPod and daydreaming all the way to work. It helped wake me up and helped me ease into the chaotic calamity that awaits at the other end of the journey. I often find myself not willing the journey to end.

And then there's the remainder of the people that I'm leaving behind. So many have left and so little to leave behind. If there is anything that I would cherish for the rest of my life, that would be the people that I've earned. But I also know that I would always keep in touch with the people that actually matter to me, even if it is from a certain distance at times.

I would most certainly miss the crazy times spent with them, the sense of unity among turmoil. The many storms we braved together, the many hurdles leaped over. I would miss the laughter. I would even miss the drama and the groans, the aiyoo's and the sighs of frustration.

And then I would miss the fruit salad.

It's a good fruit salad.

      

Scents & other complex things

I just love how my skin smells after a day of baking. Its a strong combo of cinnamon, dark dark chocolate, cardamom, orange blossom (no idea where that comes from) and a strong whiff of something else that I just cannot seem to place. Its floral yet so spicy that it seems impossible. I actually would not mind going through life smelling like this every day. This, for me is the smell of happiness.

Yes, I do have a very sensitive nose.

Speaking of noses and smells, I've always wondered. Why is there an astounding amount of perfume that smell like food? Most of them are so fruity that I am worried that they may attract fruit bats. Or worse, bees and monkeys. Some even smell like chocolate and not in a good way. Before long, they might even invent a perfume that smells like burito or kiribath for all I know. Makes me wonder, are men attracted to women smelling like food? Let's ignore the fact that it is very generally, very conventionally, very typically believed that the way into a man's heart is through his stomach (or in the much lower regions in their anatomy for that matter) but seriously, would anyone be attracted by another human being who smells like food? Personally, I don't go for fruity smells nor the perfumes that smell like food on myself or another. Spices are another thing, I go gaga if I happened to catch a whiff of spicy on a man, for example Old Spice. But otherwise I go for floral or practical sexy scents on women and oceanic, spicy or woody on a man. But fruits? No way. If anyone knows the answer as to if and why people are attracted to other people who smell like food, please let me know.

I should maybe start a perfume line, create the kind of perfumes that I like. I have the nose for it, so why not! But then, I have more interests than there is time for already, so will have to think about this one.

Speaking of perfume, I stumbled across the following para from "Perfume Collector" a book that I've been reading recently. This I can so relate to.

"You see, nothing is more immediate, more complete than the sense of smell. In an instant, it has the power to transport you. Your olfactory sense connects not to the memory itself, but to the emotion you felt when that memory was made. It's poetry, in its most immediate form." I have no choice but to nod my head vigorously in agreement.

Speaking of books, George RR, I understand that anticipation is sexy, and I quite like the game. But too much of waiting kills all the excitement and waiting for "Winds of Winter" is bordering on irritation right now. You better pop that one out soon. Its taken way too long and I am getting impatient.

On a different note, what is it with this HEAT???? I am positive that my flesh is being charred from the inside and in my head, I imagine my skin being roastedlike crackling, splitting from the inside. Brain matter will be bubbling away in their own fluids and other internal organs will be simmering away in boiling blood (am I being too disgusting here?) Anyways, it doesn't matter. The heat is so exhausting that all you want is to just immerse yourself in a large tub of water and wait for it to pass.

Oh and I am writing at a rate again. I think the muses have awakened once more and with a vengeance.

Despite the heat, we managed to crawl our way to the Punchi Theatre yesterday for Stigmata's video launch for "On the wings of the storm". And the crawl was very much worth it! An amazing night of amazing music and good fun. And a powerful and a haunting video it was too. The only complaint is that the night ended way too soon and it felt weird going home at 10.30 in the night. It was after sometime that Stigs had performed. And it was like meeting an old friend, so near and dear to the heart.

All in all a good weekend. And again starts another working week tomorrow. Gaaah!!is an understatement.

Thoughts on Independence Day

Its February already!!! And to top it off its (In)dependence Day!

Just some random thoughts that were speeding past my brain, chasing each other's tails all day. I shall try to put some order in this chaos that's in my mind. Writing, or blogging usually helps.

Do pharmacists follow a special course in understanding doctors' handwriting prior to becoming pharmacists? Are they given a special test of ancient Greek letters, caveman scrawlings or toddler scribbles prior to being accepted as a pharmacist? I was trying so hard to understand a prescription that a doctor wrote for me, screwing up my face, frowning at the paper, wiping sweat off my brow and etc, when the pharmacist took it from me and assembled everything without batting an eyelid. I have immense respect for these buggers. They are bloody geniuses!

People in this country should be taught how to cross the road. When the lights turn red for vehicles is when they should cross, not when they turn green for vehicles. When these people casually stroll across the road, hand in hand, munching on kadala/murukku and God knows what not, JUST when the lights turn green for you after waiting SO long at the traffic lights, blissfully unaware of the bulshit of the police that one has to endure, three whellers, mosquitoe-like bikes and the sheer NUMBER of traffic lights that one has to pass when you are hurrying to a certain destination,  makes you want to tear your hair out and bash your own head on the windshield repeatedly while howling like a deranged baboon. Driving aint a cake walk in this country and the people walking about the place make it even more difficult. So annoying.

I think we would be in a completely different place if we were still under colonial rule. I think we all need one person, a single entity, a common enemy to hate and when we've got that, the rest of the country just flock together like a bunch of sweet smelling daisies. Without a common entity to hate, we just turn on one another. I guess people just need something/someone to turn all their anger & frustration towards. I guess hate brings people together. As twisted as it sounds, it totally works.

People are so selfish these days, conniving and cruel that going out of the house is like, in my head, loading my gun and stepping out into a zombie apocalypse. To top it off, people have grown so shallow! Having a descent, meaningful conversation with a fellow human being has become such a rarity that I find myself clinging to such people for dear life! Whether I've become more impatient and judgemental, or people have grown stupid I dunno. 

So I put on my armour of indifference, arm myself with sarcasm, diplomacy(which I'm short of) and plenty of caution and walk on tiptoe as if walking on egg shells. But most of the time, I just don't give a bat's stinking ass. People may think me proud, haughty, arrogant and all the other words in that syntax but hey, works for me.

Maybe life is too fast paced that people have no time for anyone else other than themselves. Maybe times have become so hard that they just skip the surface of life and never bother trying to look beneath the surface. I hope they know that a smile, a kind word, a gentle gesture does indeed go a long, long way. I hope that they are aware that intelligence and thoughtfulness are still very much valued.

Went out to get a shampoo but could not find one since all the shops were closed today. I lost my independence of bathing because of the Independece Day. I was dependent. On the shops, rather the commercial entities of the country. Hmm....interesting. Rather, ironic.

There should be a system where monk behaviour is monitored and certain standards are maintained in order for one to be called a "monk". Situation is such that any crook can put on a robe, get into politics, harass citizens, become the village thugs and etc. Such a noble philosophy as Buddhism cannot be allowed to deteriorate like this because of these morons! I wish somebody would look into these things before things get out of hand.

Still on the look out for that one extremely prodigeous horror movie. However, watched a Korean thriller today and I should say that Koreans sure do know their gore. Respect brothas!

Black is an addictive colour. I love black. Its so comforting. 

I miss dancing, I miss travelling I miss life, that throbbing vivacious thing that I used to call as life that is. Think I'm begining to get a little too comfortable but I'm not the settling type, oh no!  

I'm sleepy. All this structuring of thoughts I am not very used to, hence the tiredness. I should probably catch a wink before dinner. Tata!

Good bye 2013. Well Hellooooo 2014 ;)

2013 is almost at an end. Fire crackers are going off on all directions startling Frankie boy witless. There is festivity in the air nevertheles, Mother Dearest is all set with the little clay pot of milk to be boiled at midnight today. Tradition.

Took the day off today, spent half the day on the balcony and half the day in Mother Dearest's beautiful garden reading, Frankie boy nuzzling by my side. Felt good. Felt peaceful. There is no other way that I would have liked to spend the last day of 2013.   

Looking back, it was a good year. It was a neutral year, it was a bad year, all in all, a balanced year. An year of awakenings, disappointments, accomplishments. An year of new beginings, hope and new revelations. And here's to hoping that those beginings would bear copious fruit and other  new beginings would form in the coming year.

But who's to say that you need a new year for new beginings?

2014 dawns just like another year. The only thing that is of significance to me about it is that my leave cycle gets reset and I shall have more leave to take! :P  

2013 has also been an year of letting go. That is letting go in a positive sense, being carefree, letting go of worries and burdens that no longer serve me. I am determined to leave my baggage in 2013 and step onto 2014 as a light traveller.

Here's to travelling light, taking each day as it comes and standing up to new challenges. Here's to expanding horizons and grabbing a bit of knowledge whereever and whenever possible. Here's to being the best that I can be, for myself and for others.

Here's to a simple and grounded life. Here's to a life that will serve a purpose to the world and people living in it.

Here's to 2014. Whether it is just hanging up a new calendar on the wall or welcoming the New Year with fireworks, wild partying and getting wasted till dawn, it is still 2014.

Note to self - Get used to the digits. Else I'l be marking the date as 2013 till mid next year. Its funny isn't it? When finally you get used to the digits, its already the next year!

Happy New Year you beautiful people. May it be the best year of your lives yet! :)   

December

The sun is extra golden and the winds are crisp, cool and colourful. Is it Christmas or is it just December doing its thing?

What feels absolutely right at the moment is whipping up one of my weird combo cakes, pushing it into the oven & cuddling up on a couch to watch A Christmas Carol while it bakes, letting the smell of happiness and festivity waft right through the house. Such a beautiful feeling.

What I've realized of late is that I often associate happiness with food. Maybe its because a steaming stove and brightly lit windows of a house, for me, is the sign of a warm and happy, homely homestead. Or maybe, food just makes me happy. Oh I dunno. 

Tomorrow being a holday (yeey!) there is no feeling of lingering doom and gloom that is usually related to Sunday mornings. The plan for today is simple; eat, drink and chillax. Oh and do some grocery shopping. Just in case I'm hit with a bout of baking.

I'm writing at a rate. Certain things have become clearer to me since of late. Its frightening and refreshing when these things hit you, like the unexpected December rain. I suppose you go through life in a daze and suddenly, lo and behold, one beautiful sunny day you wake up. And you are startled by the reality that stares at your face. And you are not satisfied until you've done something about it.

Speaking of rain, the sky has suddenly clouded up. I suppose it'l rain soon. Bummer.

Does life consist of anything else rather than just fighting for survival? All that I hear these days is people running around looking for jobs that bring in the most amount of cash. What about an occupation that makes you happy? Does happiness count ANYWHERE in this weird equation that people have made out to be their life?

Maybe I have way too many ideals than are good for me. 

I have a dream. I don't know if its possible and most probably, its way too far fetched, but I'm glad I have a dream. And there's this certain restlessness associated with it. If this is madness, I'm glad that I'm mad. Its good to be able to wake up sometime, rather than being asleep your entire life.

And now that I'm awake, its time to get busy. With life.