Out of touch!

Ouch. So much to say and then my silly DSL blows up. And sitting in a general computer lab at school and blogging feels terrible. Feels like I have to curtail myself and all that... feels very public, which, well, it is. And I've done such a lot of things this weekend that one or two posts hardly do justice to them. However I have typed out my blogs on my PC at home, so when I get back my connection, I'll post them.

Well, ciao then!

Different Universes

Apparently I have too many things to "hide" (which doesn't mean I'm a terrible person, it's just a question of privacy). I logged on here to write a blog, then decided I didn't want to post it through this account, and logged out again. And now, I've logged in again to write about that.

So many worlds... and in my case, with gossamer-thin lines between them.

Moving (on)...

I'm observing an anniversary. Notice, I didn't say 'celebrating'. I moved last year on this day into this big city from a much smaller town. Transferred school, changed residence, started a new life. All I will say is, thank heavens for V.! Also remembering the friends who helped in the adjustment process, my flat-mates and the faculty that recognized and rewarded the talent they saw.

However, I'm still a small-town girl in a big city. So, once I graduate, I'm outta here!!!

My Seven-Day Itch

It's called the seven-day itch... or was that 'year'? Well, the whole deal is, it's the one obstacle you come across when you're trying to manage something successfully. In my instance, the 'something' was, writing my blog. So after seven days and ten posts, I almost went, oh well. The same thing appears time and again in different forms. Here are my 'itch'es...

1. The Eleven O'Clock Itch: When you're trying to study for a tough exam and you know you're in for a long night. Coffee and nervousness help you stay awake. Then you hit the 'snag'. 11:00 pm. If I get past that, I'm pretty sure I'll make it through the entire night.

2. The "Get-off-your-ass" point: That point of day when you've gotten home, like half an hour ago and you know you want/have to gym, but your body is rebelling strongly. Once you get off your ass, it's easy... but getting off my ass itself is Huge!

3. The "Oops, Another Day" Glitch: Has happened at least once to everyone in their lives. Ranging from "Mom, wake me up again in ten minutes" to the more extreme "Shall I call in sick today?" thought. I feel a variant of this coming on almost every day of the week. I've seen it all!

There are dozens more, but most of them are the "keep them to yourself" kinds. In any case, you get the point. I'm hopefully past my seven-day itch, and, assuming life doesn't get too bothersome, I'll continue to go strong here!

G'nite!

OOwwwww.... so tired. Which is funny, 'cuz I didn't do anything huge today. Quiet, lazy, normal Sunday. Except that, for the last couple of days I've been exercising my creativity. Yesterday I was at the Art Institute, saw some lovely Impressionist work... I do like that era. Oh, and of course, other stuff. And today, I sat down with some clay and some paints to create a little clay jewellery: a couple of bangles, some earrings to go with them, and three little pendants. Once I get the rolls developed I'll put them up. I'm proud of them... they look lovely, even in my critical eyes. I only hope they retain their pristine nature at least till I gift them to the person/people they're intended for.

And hey, since many people wished me, Happy Friendship Day to you too! I hope you've had a nice day.

And now, I'm off to bed. I'm exhausted.

Even This Will Pass Away

The New Cool Prefix

DOGGONE! For the N'th time, where N is pretty large as compared to the number of days since I've started my blog, I did something stupid which caused me to lose my post. Luckily this time I had actually saved the first part on my hard drive. But excuse me while I go retrieve some part of this post from my rather faulty memory...

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Remember the time when almost all the words you heard were prefixed with "cyber-"???

Welcome to the New Cool Prefix. Or maybe it was the N.C.P. like a trillion years ago, and of course I didn't know it then cuz I usually get to know stuff, like, a trillion years after they actually take place. But let's get back. I've been doing the rounds and here's the N.C.P.: "Blogg-". I found a few, and I've made up a few, so here goes...

The "I found"...
(a) Bloggiverse/Bloggosphere: Akin to 'universe' in blog-land.
(b) Bloggiversary: The anniversary of the day you started your blog.
(c) Bloggasurf: Need I say more?

The "I made up"...
(a) Bloggalight: This is what I do if I come across an interesting writer when I'm bloggasurfing, i.e. alight and raid his/her archives.
(b) Bloggiblooper: The stupid thing you do that causes the post you're currently working on to disappear.
(c) Bloggone: How you (read: I) react when the post you're (read: I'm) currently working on disappears.

So, here's my collection... and I'm going to give this a good long hard thought too, but if you're passing by and can think up something more, please leave me a comment!

A blog-break from work...

For the last few weeks, whenever I have the time, I've been reading the more interesting blogs on the Web. Strangers'. The one observation that I, as an outsider, can make is that most blogs are well... a bit crazy. I mean, the writers are. Is this a trend??

If so, what does it say about me??

DON'T Answer That!

Lost

We have this temporary flatmate in my apartment, she needed some place for the next few days till her lease with her new landlord starts. She was at my place yesterday and had left her stuff at the old place. I offered to drive her out there so we could pick up the suitcases, etc. and get them over. My car is parked in the alley behind our house and I walked downstairs towards the car. She followed a few seconds later. I walked out through the little gate on the side since the main gate was blocked by someone's trash (very inconsiderate people-who-moved-out-without-cleaning-up!). I reached the car, looked back and saw her walking towards the main gate, so I motioned to her to change direction and pointed to the little gate.

She saw me, turned around and started walking towards the little gate. I got into the car, and beckoned to her. I blinked. When I opened my eyes, she was gone. I swear.

Very Stephen King. Or Mahal...?

She's new to the area and doesn't know anyone. I don't know why, but I started panicking right away. First of all, the alley is no place to be caught in after 9pm. And there we both were. And then, there I was. Without someone who I'd originally taken responsibility for. Ouch.

It isn't like there are too many places to hide out there. I walked all round the car, looked this way and that, across the alley to make sure she wasn't standing behind me or close enough to go "BOO!" all of a sudden (yes, call me a baby, I am scared of ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggity beasties... or whatever else). Then reason gradually kicked in, and I walked over to the front of the apartment, to see if she was waiting on the street for me. But nope.

I then called up home, in case she'd walked back in for some inexplicable reason. No R. Then I really freaked out and called the rest of my room-mates over to begin the (wo)manhunt.

We eventually found her standing a little way off from my house, on the street (not in the alley), looking a bit dazed and lost. And I have no clue what part of my fairly precise directions she didn't understand. But we had a good laugh all the same.

Which, most unfortunately, was directed mainly towards me.

Arrrrgh... I did something stupid and before I knew it, I'd lost a post-in-the-making!

Here's what I can manage to remember. Henceforth, I'm going to compose them in something else and transfer them after saving them on my hard drive!

N.B. As it goes, the posts you lose are the ones composed best....

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I need a Pensieve.

...and my apologies to those who don't read/don't enjoy Harry Potter.

Well, getting back...

My brain seems chock-full of ideas for my blog today, not all mine, unfortunately, but it's a start all the same. Go here to see what I'm talking of. This guy has the most amazingly funny and satirical blog I have come across yet! I mean, really!!! I've been reading his archives over the last couple of days and debating whether or not I should leave a comment. Well, why not?? On the other hand, he's a grammar 'freak', hmmm... far worse than I. I mean, he even has a degree to prove it. I'm worried I might make a stupid mistake, and then where would I be...? Trust me to "fall" for a man with the words and the capacity to express himself in that impeccable fashion. Someday I'll reminisce about my (ex-)crushes.... Well, maybe not on this blog :)

Have you seen Sex and the City? Well, I'm guessing the author of this blog won't be too happy to be compared with the show, and he's tonnes better anyway: a lot funnier, insightful and intelligent... but the search is for the same thing: The Perfect Mate in Manhattan. Aside from the fact that he lives in one of my favorite areas of the globe, he also does totally cool things like composing for musicals and writing haikus, and the most awesome knitting...!

Why am I gushing so...?

Hell, I guess I'm just upset he's out of my league... go read his posts, and you'll know why... if the awesome knitting hasn't given it away yet.

And now on other mundane (or otherwise) matters... foraging in the fridge for some food this afternoon, I came across a potential treat... so I treated myself today, to boiled salted peanuts in their shells. Reminds me of rainy evenings in Mumbai, when mom used to boil peanuts in their shells with salt and we used to crack the shells and eat the slightly sweet, slightly soft, slightly salty peanuts. Ahh, bliss!!!

This time around it wasn't quite so fantastic... for one, the rain wasn't there. And I wasn't in Bombay. And third, the very fact that I had hit upon the bag of peanuts so unexpectedly was testimony to me having left them in there for months, which in fact being the case, I had to separate the good ones from the bad ones which in turn involved my hands diving into some very slippery slimy stuff that wasn't either peanut or shell. But you could say that, in effect, I'd earned the peanuts twice over.

I can't make up my mind if that's better than not having earned them at all, which is the way I've had them thus far.

Dr.Jekyll

Trite. Hardly anything happened. Oh wait, I made a decision.

I decided I could allow a few people I know to view my blog. So, as of now, there are a couple of people out there who know it's me when they look at this page. The way it happened was thus: I have been talking of nothing but blogging over the last two or three weeks... and especially since the weekend, when I created this. Yesterday I was telling a friend how much fun it is to "do my writing task for the day" when she tentatively asked me where I blogged. I said, well, it's private, and the conversation went on to other things. However, not being in the habit of disappointing my friends, I mulled over the whole thing a lot and decided to.... hmm, create another blog for ONLY ME (and people will never know it's me)... and then let this blog be... well, less personal.

I received a comment from an anonymous reader who put forward the very valid point of "writing for an audience versus writing for oneself"... if you're reading this, that's how I resolve that issue. My audience (at least a few of them) know me here, there I'm absolutely incognito. And so, there, I don't care what or how I write, since I'm reasonably sure I'm fairly well disguised.

Remember RL Stevenson? Well, so I'm off to Hyde now... :) ok, pun really not intended!

Happy Anniversary, Maa and Paa!

Mom and Dad's Wedding Anniversary today.

Oh, how I'm looking forward to the next time I can meet them! Sometimes December seems to loom up in front of me (when I review the amount of work I have to get done) and at other times, it couldn't be further away (when I think of going home!). Yepp, that's how Einstein explained Relativity too!!

"The Factory Smell"

My dad is the owner of a factory. It manufactures machinery parts. There are many large machines in the factory: lathes, drills, special tool-building thingies and a couple of newly-added CNCs (computer-programmable machines). He has a small office at the corner of the factory, where he meets clients. When we (family and friends) go there, we generally sit in the small office space. Every half-hour or so he walks out to find out if everything's alright and our employees are doing ok. Sometimes he rolls up his sleeves and works along with them, if he thinks they need help or direction. Once in a while one of them comes into the office to ask a question about a die or some specification, and I watch in fascination as dad looks into the blueprints and tells them what to do and how to do it.

Our factory was much smaller when I was little. It has grown over the years. I remember times when dad did most of the work himself. He would get home and go for a warm shower, and I remember thinking his shirt had "the factory smell". Only much later did I realise that was the smell of machine grease. When I was a child, mom never allowed me out towards the machines, for fear that I might hurt myself. As I grew older I used to wander among the machines, asking Paa what each machine did and how it worked. My dad loved explaining it all to me. I used to talk to the workers in the broken dialect I knew, and somehow I managed to understand something of what they told me in return. I admire my dad, the way his enterprise has grown, his integrity and hard work, and respect him for his love for his factory and his work.

This morning, I had to drop off the car at a garage for a general tune-up. I was recommended to this place by a friend, I'd never been there before. I drove out as per his directions and reached a deserted alley in which the garage is located. I somehow thought I'd lost my way, I remembered mom saying, don't go there! It's "not a nice locality". And I didn't know what to expect and who I'd meet. I asked around and found a whole slew of taxis waiting, I think this garage caters almost exclusively to taxis. I meet the owner of the garage, I tell him I've heard about him through so-and-so. He says, yes, he told me to expect you, do you want to get your car in? So I drive my car in, shut off the engine, open the door, and step out.

That's when I caught a whiff of it. Machine Grease.

Of course, it is the most natural thing to smell machine grease in a mechanical workshop. I just didn't think I would. I just wasn't prepared for "the factory smell", the smell of dad's shirts after a long day at work, the smell of ... something so familiar and intimate, that all of a sudden I was totally comfortable in my strange surroundings. It was as if the little switch in my brain that had been screaming "achtung!", switched off all of a sudden. Stilled by the familiarity of the smell.

Do you realize how much you owe your nose?