The Lady Grouch has not grouched in quite a long time, now has she?
And I'm wondering why that is. I suppose the Lady is quite happy with the way things are right now. The past couple of weeks have not been so good (not so good as in not wanting to even blog about it not-good) with regards to certain very necessary things but right now, after a weekend well spent and some long conversations, things are pretty much sparkly. The universe is in its rightful place again :)
Another reason for the upsy-perkiness must be because there are also a lot of new things in the Lady's life. I suppose the old Grouch is quite happy as long as there's always something new to keep her on her toes. Work is exciting and I believe that I'm quite blessed to run in to like-minded wackjobs wherever I set foot in, be it a workplace or a class I decide to take. Anyhooooooo, I've realized of late that life's pretty darn awesome when you learn to savor every moment as if it is your last whether it be good or bad.
I find travelling time relaxing. Although people find it irritating and end up getting frustrated when spending hour upon hour in traffic jams, I find it an enjoyable exercise. Everyday to work and from work, it is my thinking time and I do NOT appreciate being disturbed during that time. Even if the roads are crowded and vehicles are jam packed on the streets, I always go prepared. With a book and my music, I'm fully loaded and quite content to spend those cherished moments escaping in to my own mind where I take refuge.
Life has proved itself to be one adrenalin evoking adventure, I am quite excited to test my surfing skills on those intimidating tidal waves that life bashes against the shores from time to time. I suppose I define myself as well geared up to take up anything lanced at me and quite enthusiastic about it too. I'm not particularly fussy about things and go with the flow has always been my motto. It has worked very well so far *shrug*
I am learning everyday and I lap it all up with more eagerness than a hungry dog would lap up spilt milk. Its amazing though how quickly the mind and body gets used to routine and procedure. Well what do you know, we are highly obedient, program-able robots after all!
Planning to head for the Richmond Castle over the weekend. This is a long overdue trip that was intended to be made about one year ago when I first heard of the place. Suddenly remembered of it just yesterday. Stumbling across a few pictures of it on the web about a year ago aroused my curiosity and prompted me to find out more after which I came across fascinating stories, more pictures and many other tidbits that only added kerosene to the fire. I have a fetish for old places anyway, they have this aura bout them, this air of secrets concealed and lives spent between those slowly decaying walls. There is a beauty in decay that many people tend to overlook but which I find ever so fascinating. What with my trusty ol camera eagerly awaiting a snap or two at those grandiose colonial arcs, I have already spoken to a reluctant Darling about dragging his lazy behind down there. He better agree or it'l be a solitary ramble down there, which now that I think about it, doesn't sound so bad after all.
Apparently, the master bedroom of the Richmond Castle has a sound proofing device. The Mudaliyar old fellow must have seen some tree-wrenching action back in his days *eye brow wiggle* :D
All the positivism aside, I do have certain things to grouch about too. First and foremost there's this issue about messiness that Mother Dearest finds very irritating but which I find to be completely normal. I've always been a messy kid, its a part of my nature I suppose. So every now and then when I come home in the evening I find my room swept and organized and I find it really odd. I like my mess. Its my mess. I do not want anybody messing up my mess :/
Same applies to when I cook. I am a messy cook and Mother Dearest never ceases complaining. But then again, they say that a messy cook is a good cook, a clean house is a sign of wasted life and a messy room is a sign of a genius at work!!! My mother never understands any of my logic though. Sigh...................
And my poetry collection is quite passive these days too. Sigh...........Hoping that the pace would pick up and I would see some action soon. Been writing some new stuff too as inspiration comes in gasps and starts these days and spills on like a damaged oil vessel in the middle of the ocean, contaminating the clear blue waters of the mind. Searching for a publisher was done in a moment of such monolithic inspiration and I was at the point that if no one would accept it, I would publish it myself (I still would, oh I still SO would). I was really, REALLY excited about it when it started, but at the pace that things are going, I feel my enthusiasm laxing too. Sigh.....creativity has never been easy. Either you labor to invoke the muses or you labor to get published. I'm not the only one. Throughout history, it has always been a struggle for the artistically cursed. But, I do not intend on embracing the destiny of work being discovered only after death, no sir.
Note to self- Must bug publisher :P
Yes, yes I be rambling for quite sometime now. Sleep calleth and I shalt to my chambers. Nitey nite you beautiful people! Keep smiling and be happy always :)
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Birthday and other things
Birthday. It came and it went. And I'm twenty five today.
Getting up early morning only to be swept up in a gigantic hug by both the parents. That alone is enough to put a beaming smile on my face. Then the morning is spent in the temple, unraveling petal after petal of white lotuses. There were twenty five of them this time.
Its so very peaceful in the temple and under the rustling bo leaves and the wind peacefully swish swishing through the trees, I could have spent forever in that shade. It's ever so peaceful there, ever so tranquil. The slightly damp sand is soothing under the feet and upon the feet as well when it scatters all over you as you walk. Its a great feeling to be able to dig your feet in to the sand, bury your toes in there, sit down and contemplate. So much to think, so much to ponder over.
Made gift packs for all the little girls in the orphanage and I handpicked every little thing in that gift pack this time. Little girls like nice, dainty things and I being a little girl once knew exactly what I'd like to have. Sure enough, the girls really loved it. And I was glad.
We had been preparing meals, giving these girls gifts, spending time with those children on every birthday ever since I can remember. When I was very small, I remember being fascinated by the thought of sharing a house, a room with all these girls my age and I remember wishing that I was one of them. They seemed so happy those little girls. I wanted to be part of the group, to learn together, to sleep together, to do my homework together with them. Having a brother much much older than me and therefore having grown up pretty much a loner, I suppose I craved for company of my own age, to share my thoughts, my dreams and aspirations. That is why I turned to writing I suppose. Because I had a lot of dreams and had not many people to share them with.
I started volunteering at the orphanage later on and taught the girls English, helped them with their homework and even gave them French lessons whenever I could. My favorite memory with them has to be sitting down on the highest step of the front porch and reading and explaining stories to the youngest of the lot. But now, I barely have time to do that and I regret that very very much. I wish I could spend hour upon hour, watching the amazement turn to smiles and smiles turn to wonderment and wonderment turn to curiosity on those young and tender faces.
It was a peaceful day yesterday. Birthdays remind you how blessed you are and how lucky indeed you are to have the things that life bestowed you with. I am blessed with the best parents a girl can ever dream of having. My mother is the most courageous and the most brave and talented woman that I have ever seen, never backing away from a challenge and loving us, rearing us single handedly and balancing a career too at the same time with no help from anyone at all. My father is the most noble and the most honorable man that I have ever seen, unflinching in his ways and possessing the strongest sense of integrity and honesty than any man that I have ever met in my life. If I am lucky, I could only wish that I inherited some of those qualities from them to cherish forever and for always with me.
I've always been a lucky child I guess. I guess I've always gotten what I've wanted or I persevered till I did. But then, I've always had luck on my side and I suppose this life chose me instead the other way round. When I was born I was not breathing and it was a while after I had revived and started breathing my mother says. Thus, I chose not to breath, but life chose to give me breath it seems. However, love found me before I've even had a chance to wonder about it and happiness too has this way of creeping upon me when I least expect it. Of course I've endured pain, gamuts and gamuts of it too but I like to think that I did it quite well to be standing on my feet strong and steady today. But then they say that a stone shall only be polished and be shiny if it was bashed around quite a lot now, don't they? And then comes other more tangible aspects. I ventured on to the field of creative and corporate writing with no prior experience and no idea at all whatsoever with regards to what I am doing and within even less than a year, here I am a "writer" in the much modern and commercialized sense of the word, earning substantial amounts that no person my own age could even dream of and handling more projects than I would have liked to. Beginners luck I'd say. I've made my parents and all those who love me proud. And that is really all I want. I consider myself truly blessed to have been able to do all that as well.
A birthday passed reminding of all the things that I'm grateful for in this life. It was a twenty five years well spent I guess :)
Getting up early morning only to be swept up in a gigantic hug by both the parents. That alone is enough to put a beaming smile on my face. Then the morning is spent in the temple, unraveling petal after petal of white lotuses. There were twenty five of them this time.
Its so very peaceful in the temple and under the rustling bo leaves and the wind peacefully swish swishing through the trees, I could have spent forever in that shade. It's ever so peaceful there, ever so tranquil. The slightly damp sand is soothing under the feet and upon the feet as well when it scatters all over you as you walk. Its a great feeling to be able to dig your feet in to the sand, bury your toes in there, sit down and contemplate. So much to think, so much to ponder over.
Made gift packs for all the little girls in the orphanage and I handpicked every little thing in that gift pack this time. Little girls like nice, dainty things and I being a little girl once knew exactly what I'd like to have. Sure enough, the girls really loved it. And I was glad.
We had been preparing meals, giving these girls gifts, spending time with those children on every birthday ever since I can remember. When I was very small, I remember being fascinated by the thought of sharing a house, a room with all these girls my age and I remember wishing that I was one of them. They seemed so happy those little girls. I wanted to be part of the group, to learn together, to sleep together, to do my homework together with them. Having a brother much much older than me and therefore having grown up pretty much a loner, I suppose I craved for company of my own age, to share my thoughts, my dreams and aspirations. That is why I turned to writing I suppose. Because I had a lot of dreams and had not many people to share them with.
I started volunteering at the orphanage later on and taught the girls English, helped them with their homework and even gave them French lessons whenever I could. My favorite memory with them has to be sitting down on the highest step of the front porch and reading and explaining stories to the youngest of the lot. But now, I barely have time to do that and I regret that very very much. I wish I could spend hour upon hour, watching the amazement turn to smiles and smiles turn to wonderment and wonderment turn to curiosity on those young and tender faces.
It was a peaceful day yesterday. Birthdays remind you how blessed you are and how lucky indeed you are to have the things that life bestowed you with. I am blessed with the best parents a girl can ever dream of having. My mother is the most courageous and the most brave and talented woman that I have ever seen, never backing away from a challenge and loving us, rearing us single handedly and balancing a career too at the same time with no help from anyone at all. My father is the most noble and the most honorable man that I have ever seen, unflinching in his ways and possessing the strongest sense of integrity and honesty than any man that I have ever met in my life. If I am lucky, I could only wish that I inherited some of those qualities from them to cherish forever and for always with me.
I've always been a lucky child I guess. I guess I've always gotten what I've wanted or I persevered till I did. But then, I've always had luck on my side and I suppose this life chose me instead the other way round. When I was born I was not breathing and it was a while after I had revived and started breathing my mother says. Thus, I chose not to breath, but life chose to give me breath it seems. However, love found me before I've even had a chance to wonder about it and happiness too has this way of creeping upon me when I least expect it. Of course I've endured pain, gamuts and gamuts of it too but I like to think that I did it quite well to be standing on my feet strong and steady today. But then they say that a stone shall only be polished and be shiny if it was bashed around quite a lot now, don't they? And then comes other more tangible aspects. I ventured on to the field of creative and corporate writing with no prior experience and no idea at all whatsoever with regards to what I am doing and within even less than a year, here I am a "writer" in the much modern and commercialized sense of the word, earning substantial amounts that no person my own age could even dream of and handling more projects than I would have liked to. Beginners luck I'd say. I've made my parents and all those who love me proud. And that is really all I want. I consider myself truly blessed to have been able to do all that as well.
A birthday passed reminding of all the things that I'm grateful for in this life. It was a twenty five years well spent I guess :)
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Bus ride and thoughts
Was taking a bus ride today, in the morning, still groggy from last night's sleep and quite unwillingly woken up from a bed that had somehow decided to not let me go at any cost this particular morning. However, I find bus rides refreshing. These bumpy travel sessions give you a sense of enlightenment and a wisdom regarding life that one just could not get anywhere else. I'm not kidding.
Anyway, the person in the seat in front of me, an elderly man of about 50 years old was starring out of the bus intently while it was parked at one spot and was waiting for passengers to load. I followed his gaze and found that they rested upon an elderly lady of about 75 or so, the kind of aachchi ammas that you find in the Sunday Fair in cloth and blouse selling beetle leaves, jack fruit and what-not. Anyways, she had on a cloth which she had taken off and was retying it around her waste this 75-80 year old woman, bent and hunched-backed with age and it was this that this man in the bus was watching intently. It was quite puzzling because that lady had another long skirt-like thing covering her whole body well, not showing even a millimeter of skin so I found it confusing as to why anyone would stare at such an old lady who was almost bent double with age and tying the cloth which had come loose that she had worn over another two or more cloths. I was perplexed.
It struck me at that moment that maybe, just maybe, women were created in such a fascinating way that one would stare at even the most oldest of the kind, even the most unattractive of the lot with so much of interest and awe. Maybe. It IS possible. I mean, when a man passes by, hardly anyone glances at that direction whereas when a woman walks by, no matter the age, no matter the kind of dress she had worn, no matter the kind of person she is, people would stare, at least look up from whatever they were doing, not only men, but women as well. Maybe its because God created the woman to be so interesting that no matter what the mankind knows of this fairer sex, no matter how well they know these beguiling creatures inside out, they are always ever so curious and imagine the woman to be hiding something precious beneath all those layers of cloth. I mean, as children, we are all given an education regarding reproductive health and so we all know what internal organs the two genders hold. Plus all the erotica out there serves this purpose too now, doesn't it? But still, are women as intrigued by what a man hides beneath his cloths as the men are by what a woman hides beneath her cloths? I don't think so, not so much anyway. I mean, a woman would not stare at a seventy year old man if he was retying his sarong and even if certain skin happens to be visible in the process as well. Maybe it is because that the womankind is blessed with a better imagination that allows them to know what to expect without opening the parcel whereas the man is ever so curious about what is covered up with all that wrapping paper even though they have seen and been told over and over again about what it holds? Or maybe its simply the way our biological clocks tick that the sex drive of men is "said" to be much more active than that of the woman? But then again, that is a downright myth. A woman I think, is naturally and biologically more disciplined than a man because, one little mistake on their part and they will be the ones carrying two-three kilos in their belly for nine months whereas for the man, no such conditions apply. So I suppose that this psychological fact applies to women, this responsibility factor of bearing life. Otherwise, if a woman doesn't want sex, that's because she's not getting good sex and is not all that enthusiastic about it while it sure as hell is not because she isn't interested.
Or maybe its because we as human beings are naturally interested in what is hidden and is rarely interested in what is out there in the open. Hmmm........
And I find myself thinking...........things I think inside a bus! :D
Anyways, I think the fact that the woman was created as the most interesting and the intriguing of the two genders is why women are being subjected to sexual assaults every so often. Not really complaining that she was made interesting, but is kind of dismayed that the woman was also created as the biologically weaker sex which makes them easy prey to the much stronger male animal. To ward off those prying eyes, groping hands and violent assaults, the woman should have been created a bit more sturdier, a bit more stronger than the opposite sex so that she would have been able to put up a fight against unwanted attention. But then again, why not build for ourselves what the nature has not blessed us with anyways? So ladies, tie your hair up and kick off those martial arts classes. Men today are such unhealthy slobs who don't bother about fitness at all anyway so, putting down a pervert or two would only be a piece of cake ;)
Also, I've found out that the best way to stop that annoying kid who makes faces at you from the front row is to roll back your eyes, open your mouth and make a demon face back at him so that it would scare the living daylights out of the little brat. Tried and tested. Works! :D
Anyway, the person in the seat in front of me, an elderly man of about 50 years old was starring out of the bus intently while it was parked at one spot and was waiting for passengers to load. I followed his gaze and found that they rested upon an elderly lady of about 75 or so, the kind of aachchi ammas that you find in the Sunday Fair in cloth and blouse selling beetle leaves, jack fruit and what-not. Anyways, she had on a cloth which she had taken off and was retying it around her waste this 75-80 year old woman, bent and hunched-backed with age and it was this that this man in the bus was watching intently. It was quite puzzling because that lady had another long skirt-like thing covering her whole body well, not showing even a millimeter of skin so I found it confusing as to why anyone would stare at such an old lady who was almost bent double with age and tying the cloth which had come loose that she had worn over another two or more cloths. I was perplexed.
It struck me at that moment that maybe, just maybe, women were created in such a fascinating way that one would stare at even the most oldest of the kind, even the most unattractive of the lot with so much of interest and awe. Maybe. It IS possible. I mean, when a man passes by, hardly anyone glances at that direction whereas when a woman walks by, no matter the age, no matter the kind of dress she had worn, no matter the kind of person she is, people would stare, at least look up from whatever they were doing, not only men, but women as well. Maybe its because God created the woman to be so interesting that no matter what the mankind knows of this fairer sex, no matter how well they know these beguiling creatures inside out, they are always ever so curious and imagine the woman to be hiding something precious beneath all those layers of cloth. I mean, as children, we are all given an education regarding reproductive health and so we all know what internal organs the two genders hold. Plus all the erotica out there serves this purpose too now, doesn't it? But still, are women as intrigued by what a man hides beneath his cloths as the men are by what a woman hides beneath her cloths? I don't think so, not so much anyway. I mean, a woman would not stare at a seventy year old man if he was retying his sarong and even if certain skin happens to be visible in the process as well. Maybe it is because that the womankind is blessed with a better imagination that allows them to know what to expect without opening the parcel whereas the man is ever so curious about what is covered up with all that wrapping paper even though they have seen and been told over and over again about what it holds? Or maybe its simply the way our biological clocks tick that the sex drive of men is "said" to be much more active than that of the woman? But then again, that is a downright myth. A woman I think, is naturally and biologically more disciplined than a man because, one little mistake on their part and they will be the ones carrying two-three kilos in their belly for nine months whereas for the man, no such conditions apply. So I suppose that this psychological fact applies to women, this responsibility factor of bearing life. Otherwise, if a woman doesn't want sex, that's because she's not getting good sex and is not all that enthusiastic about it while it sure as hell is not because she isn't interested.
Or maybe its because we as human beings are naturally interested in what is hidden and is rarely interested in what is out there in the open. Hmmm........
And I find myself thinking...........things I think inside a bus! :D
Anyways, I think the fact that the woman was created as the most interesting and the intriguing of the two genders is why women are being subjected to sexual assaults every so often. Not really complaining that she was made interesting, but is kind of dismayed that the woman was also created as the biologically weaker sex which makes them easy prey to the much stronger male animal. To ward off those prying eyes, groping hands and violent assaults, the woman should have been created a bit more sturdier, a bit more stronger than the opposite sex so that she would have been able to put up a fight against unwanted attention. But then again, why not build for ourselves what the nature has not blessed us with anyways? So ladies, tie your hair up and kick off those martial arts classes. Men today are such unhealthy slobs who don't bother about fitness at all anyway so, putting down a pervert or two would only be a piece of cake ;)
Also, I've found out that the best way to stop that annoying kid who makes faces at you from the front row is to roll back your eyes, open your mouth and make a demon face back at him so that it would scare the living daylights out of the little brat. Tried and tested. Works! :D
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