I'm done.

At the start of this new year, I'll do what I never did before. Create a list of things to do. Hopefully I'll keep some of the resolutions I'll make. I haven't made the list yet or even thought about it for that matter, but the idea of making a list has appeal to me. I'd like to see what I'll end up putting in it and what I'll actually do in the end.

But, one thing I want to do is stop writing this blog. I think the blog has served it's purpose. I've discovered myself in ways and learnt to be more open. Jeez, I've become so open that I've been running away from people, just so I don't open up to them :). It's silly, I know.

Anyway. It's been a good road for me. For some reason, I am reminded of an Elton John song for the end. I've always liked it and the fact that Robert Downey Jr. is in it, makes all the more heartfelt.

I want love, but it's impossible
A man like me, so irresponsible
A man like me is dead in places
Other men feel liberated

I can't love, shot full of holes
Don't feel nothing, I just feel cold
Don't feel nothing, just old scars
Toughening up around my heart

But I want love, just a different kind
I want love, won't break me down
Won't brick me up, won't fence me in
I want a love, that don't mean a thing
That's the love I want, I want love

I want love on my own terms
After everything I've ever learned
Me, I carry too much baggage
Oh man I've seen so much traffic

So bring it on, I've been bruised
Don't give me love that's clean and smooth
I'm ready for the rougher stuff
No sweet romance, I've had enough

Do we need all these people?

Why is that we are creatures that thrive on comradeship? Sure moments of solitude are not only welcome, but needed. But it's rare that one can live that way. A kind of skewed perspective eventually kicks in. After all, one's opinion, no matter how cognitive to start with, can only contain so much direction. All the left turns will add up. Eventually.

I need to know that one's happiness is not contingent on someone or something else.

I mean, it's drilled into us, isn't it? From movies to music to books. We are lead to believe that we need to find and nurture these relationships we have. Else, you will live and die lonely, sad and depressed. Surely that's not true. I might have already put this one to the test (kind of), as I am hardly in touch with people who mean the world to me. I guess I need to know I can survive by myself, if needed. A shoulder to lean on is nice n all; but in the end, i need to figure out a solution for myself and stop the leaning that i would otherwise do.

I don't know if I'd turn to keeping copious amounts of cats around me to fill the void people might leave, but that one needs to be put to the test at some point. It would be OK if it was something that is nice to have, but not needed is my point.

And it's no fun being alone
She'd sell her soul for someone to call her own
He's been waiting for a reason to head for home
'Cause it's no fun with no one
It's no fun being alone

Maybe they should have a war on christmas

What is it about the holidays that just bog one’s spirits down? Sure, the endless repetition of Rudolf the red nosed reindeer can take its toll on anyone. But, I doubt it’s the only culprit. Maybe it’s like Valentine’s Day, only with linen on sale. And all that alcohol at umpteenth parties can eventually make one’s mood murky.

I was fine all day and about a few minutes ago, I heard Sinead O’Connor’s nothing compares to you and before I knew it, I was hiccupping tears. Playing my eternally soothing song (For your information: Eva Cassidy’s Songbird) did nothing to soothe my nerves.

I keep yo-yoing between... I am totally fine and I am a brink away from complete mess. Well that is an exaggeration. I’m sure, even on my bad days, I am mighty well composed. Unless I get drunk :-). Well then I’m the biggest idiot on the block. Aww I have such fond memories of being sloshed. I think I should drink more again for the sake of ol times.

Who doesn’t miss good ol times eh? I know I would not want to live my childhood again. But I wouldn’t mind trading for the carefree mind frame one has as a kid. I was actually this bully who always wanted her way as a kid. I remember stomping off when people wouldn’t play what I wanted to play. Or not share my books cos the other rumpled the pages as they read. I was such a bitch then. Funny I even had friends. Maybe I am better off being this adult who understands what a compromise is and knows books are meant to be shared.

"You can't go around building a better world for people. Only people can build a better world for people. Otherwise it's just a cage."

I'm not really lost, but I need to find myself.

You know what. That was silly. The last post was everything I’ve been trying to do; well more like some of the things I’ve been trying to do; to escape thinking of things deeper.

I think since I’ve started to blog, I’ve learnt to be more open, learnt to share better and learnt to trust people around me. But there has been a downside to this. I’m being so open and there are times that I want to shut up, but I can’t seem to. So to prevent me spewing my guts out to most everyone, I am avoiding most people. This has unfortunately meant that I am talking a lot lesser with my family and friends.

I know I can’t take people around me for granted. But I hope they understand that I need this space now. I don’t want to feel like a burden and the only way I can avoid it is by staying away for a bit. I think I manage to “get back” fairly easily … well at least easily with friends anyways. My family bond has always been a struggle for some reason. I tend to be way sillier and weird around them than usual. Of course, they have to kind of like me, b’cos “we’re family” n all that… but I know it’s a totally different dynamic there. I wish I was closer; but just can’t do it. I think with most people, I have hard time being myself.

That’s the weird thing too. I don’t think I know myself either. Maybe that’s the thing I need to do. Define myself better. Stop being wishy-washy and lay down the foundation. Or at least recognize that it’s already there.

Wonder if I'll die young or live old

So turns out, saying that you’ll be back is easier said than done. Since my blog is the meandering kind, anything goes.

Offlate I’ve been thinking about retirement and saving up for it. This is so unlike me that I’ve had to get used to the idea quite a bit. The idea of me being this poor ol bag lady is horrific enough for me to get off my butt and wonder about 401Ks and IRAs. I guess one can never start too late, but I keep thinking…what the hell was I doing til now? I should have done this years ago.

So all you folks out there. Take a long hard look at your portfolio and make that judgment. Will I make it fine when I reach, I dunno, 60 and beyond? The odds of, will I live past 40 is something I think are rather slim. But it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do the what-if scenarios.

Gosh it's hard to try n fly

So how does one get back into the groove after a long hiatus? It’s hard to be all comfortable when that odd fumbling occurs in things that were natural to you to begin with.

Kind of like dancing… the rhythm is in you, but your feet don’t really follow in step. It’s awkward at best. But if you let loose, and dance like no one is watching, it’s exhilarating. Of course, you soon realize that it’s also tiring to do it now. The stamina is gone and you’d much rather sit and drink anyways.

I'm still trying to find my way back
Whatever happened to all those dreams a while ago
Whatever happened way across the sea
Whatever happened to the way it's supposed to happen
And whatever happened to me?

guess who'se back

I just skimmed through my blog and realized how much I’ve missed writing it. My self-induced anguishes continue, so I guess I have loads more to whine about.

and there's this nagging suspicion
that won't leave me alone tonight
its just that everything I try to do,
nothing seems to turn out right

Steven sings in Korean :-)

Blank

I can't say this better even if I tried and I have no intentions of putting in any effort... so I will quote ze phunny lady:

You know how you sometimes have good friends you fall out of touch with? The longer you go without calling them, the more you think about how awkward it will be when you do call, and so you put it off some more? Eventually you wake up one morning to realize that its been months/years/copious-quantities- of-time and now you’re too lazy to change things? Yes, me and my blog have lately been like that only, although drawing parallels between my blog and a close friend probably alludes to a cuckoo-ness and lack-of-life that I shall cleverly not get into.

A regular reader gently brought it to my notice that this is the first time that a whole month has gone by and I have not written anything. Big whoop, I said. Then another reader not-so-kindly pointed out that I am supposed to be a bunny rabbit, not a bear, so could I please stop hibernating? Oh, oops, I said, slowly starting to see the point. I guess I haven’t written. And I guess a blog is a blog only if the blogger actually blogs on it. So .. um .. er .. *gulp*

But to be fair, I *have* noticed. Every day I tell myself, that I shall snap out of this, write something spectacular and the darn block will be gone. Poof! Like that! Except for one minor matter. I can’t think of anything spectacular. Or non-spectacular even. Gah. I look around to see how people do it. Some write about things on their mind but I checked and there’s not much going on there. (Ah, the price of shallowness.) A silly verse about my inability to write might work. But that’s already been done. And there’s the kind that write pseudo-intellectual stuff using the season as a metaphor .. Oh wait, that was me. Never mind.

So anyway, I’ve decided to do something different and place my faith in my dear readers. (Yes, those handful of you who still read this blog.) - Pliss to suggest something to write about? Anything, anything at all. Ooh-aah-ing about music, cheesy movie reviews, ways to cause bodily harm to Mika Singh, ten things that annoy me, photoblogs with pretty fall pictures that I promised once upon a time, the importance of ichhadhari nagins in Hindi movies .. any earth-shattering issue of global importance that you think I ought to have an opinion on. You tell and I’ll write.

We’ve moved out of Eden a long time ago

I think I wasn’t always cynical. Actually, I’m not always cynical even now. But I think I tend to be more inclined towards pessimism with regards to my life than others. I am wistfully optimistic about global warming and the help recycling even the smallest thing with do to the environment. About how men will realize that they are fighting over trivial lines, that countries hold no real meaning and that we are all really gypsies in nature and it’s just in everyone’s best interest to have free trade and open borders.

That brings me to my pet peeve.

Patriotism.

Sure I love India. I was born there and spent most of my life there and will eventually settle down there. Not because I’ve been taught since I was a kid that it is “sare jahan se acha” (meaning the best among the rest of the countries), but because I feel a connection to this huge, all encompassing nation with it’s warm heart, pacifist nature and an ever ensuing identity crisis. Whatever makes one country better than the others? Maybe a good government, some exemplary policies and the provision of enough natural resources (including man) to help it’s countrymen live well. I don’t believe in nor understand the blind need for faith in a country and the need to live and die upholding a border that someone drew up. With enough time, we’ll probably blend into a common looking race of afro/asian/caucasian to help people get over their racial prejudices and then (probably), we’ll stop fighting.

I have the same problem with most religions. I can understand a religion’s need to say “Everyone else is telling you crap. I speak the truth. Buy my book and souvenirs.” It’s not to say that I feel all religions are overtly commercialized and seem to only work at draining people’s income and giving them half-hearted solace. I’ve seen a lot of people turn to religion for comfort. But, if you look around with a critical eye, exploitation of those people is all that is happening. Whatever was initially meant to provide a peace of mind and answers to questions that weren’t easy to solve has become a baton for the dimwitted to hold onto and to clobber others with. What was started to help create a proper way of life and healthy surroundings has become a lifestyle and brotherhood impeding float that is just there for cosmetic reasons and is bloody hard to navigate and not really a transportation device (no matter what they tell you).

:-). I tend to over push analogies. This is not a good example, but I could see it becoming this huge sentence going on about idiots who have nothing better to do than win pointless parade medals and who waste their time and others in an exercise that is just… well, pointless.

Jesus.

I started the whole thing about me being a cynic and here I am… almost on the verge of god-people bashing. I think I’ll stop. For no apparent reason but for the need to stop. My introspection into cynicism can be done another day.

What is a life worth?

I never thought that my sense of self worth would ever come into question. I am who I am. Just like everybody else. I don’t weight your collection of fava beans and you should not need to know my count. It’s not like we need to deal in them to survive, needing to swap them for stuff. But, somehow I get the sense that it isn’t the case.

I know how this works. People who have little of something are the only ones who really bother to think a lot about the lack of it. Hmm... and people who have loads of something are also quick to tally scores with anyone with a lower count. So mid ground is a good place to be in … but contentment is really a personal state of mind. If you are the kind who doesn’t get bothered with such things, then nothing will ruffle your feathers. It’s for the under-confident and the under-confident posing as over-confident douchebags that this whole affair pertains to.

Others should not be able to tell you where you should belong or should be doing or any such thing. And in any such process, should not cause you to doubt yourself. I shouldn’t care. I don’t need to and I certainly don’t have to. I’ve tried to shake it off, telling myself that I am great indeed and I don’t need anybody’s validations nor discredits to feel otherwise (please play Christina Aguilera’s “you are beautiful” in your head while you continue to read this. it sets the proper tone for all of this, I think).

My problem stems from my own actions and so I can’t really crib about it. It’s just that one should never need to question one’s place in anything. If only such convictions could be easily upheld in practice.

Everybody hurts!

When the day is long, and the night is yours alone,
When you're sure you've had enough of this life, well hang on
Don't let yourself go,
'cause everybody cries
and everybody hurts sometimes.

What makes two good people act mean to each other?

I don’t want to do it. But it is so easy to succumb to it sometimes. A careless word is said. Perhaps unintentionally, or not. But, before you know it, you are seeking revenge. Revenge at what and at whom? I care deeply about every person in my life. I’ve become the person that I am, solely b’cos of the people around me. People who loved me and people who hurt me. There is love that I feel for some and deep rooted anger at some. I don’t usually “hate-hate” people, but I’ve had reasons enough to get there with them. But after years and years of just feeling it inside me, the moments have passed. There are times I look bad and regret not doing anything about it, but it’s momentary really. I think I have more reasons to love than anything else. There are so many people who could use a hug. And a hug helps you just as much at the giving end as at the receiving end.

I miss hugs.

I think there will never be a number of hugs that I will be satisfied with. My mom would hug me loads as a kid. I suffer from withdrawal symptoms me thinks.

I wish I could forgive and forget easy. I manage the forgive so easily. I am yet to get the forget part down.

I try. But not hard enough. Not long enough. I give up easily. I give in easy. If only I was as strong for myself as I am for others. If only…

Well, everybody hurts sometimes,
Everybody cries.
So, hold on, hold on
Everybody hurts. You are not alone

I ate dirty, bloody n raw fish today!!!!

So after little research I landed in Mexico for the Christmas and New Years. I was a tad apprehensive about the trip, what with having researched neighbourhood restaurants more than this country. Any ho...have realised that the tension has been uncalled for. The people are friendly, warm and speak a language that is bloody hard to understand. It is my fault, I know. I should have picked my more spanish. Maybe I'll dust up those old "learn spanish in 30 days" CDs after I get back and give it all a shot.

I'm currently at a small town by the Pacific Ocean called Ensanada. Besides the klitchy, tourist-centric downtown, there is little else to do here. Have to move away to do anything, which is what I'll probably do tomorrow. Go wine tasting or some such arbit thing.

In December, whales migrate to mid of the Pacific to mate. I went on a whale watching trip today, on a small boat. We caught a glimpse of a whale that was camera shy and refused to surface. After chasing it for awhile, our boat's captain gave up and took us further into the sea. Here, the deckhands did some deep sea fishing. The fish bite easy (compared to line-fishing, I'm told) and they caught 5 huge bonitas (akin in appearances to the tuna) within 30 minutes. One of them offered to cook us the fish at his home or do it "ceviche" style (your basic raw fish, doused in lime juice n stuff). We negotiated a rate and everything, and then he started skinning and gutting the fish on the dirty boat deck. People backed off from eating it or having anything to do with it. The skipper skinned some meat off, tossed into a cut bottle top, drenched it with some soy sauce and offered it to everyone. I wasn't ready to try it at first. It was bloody, he hadn't washed it at all and it just didn't look like something you would want to eat. But, he tossed it in quite easily and seemed to relish it. I, along with a few other people, gave it a go. It was interesting and that's all I have to say about it.

Just had some mexican wine with dinner and didn't particularly relish it. Hopefully the vineyard I'm going to go to tomorrow (it's been around since the 1800s) has a better offering.

Music transcends language

If we don’t suffer, we wouldn’t learn a thing

The heroine in “Before Sunset” says that to Ethan Hawk at some point. I never thought that to be true. I mean, we end up suffering ‘cos very few people are capable of making “correct” decisions all the time.

And not all suffering leads to wisdom. If any, one looses some. (I couldn’t resist it. Just couldn’t… I know it’s the lamest joke I’d ever managed to make… wait it doesn’t make sense yet, but it will once you finish reading past this parenthesis). I got my remaining wisdom teeth pulled out this morning. And drifting in and out of Diphenhydramine induced sleep, I must admit that life if never fun after anesthesia … well unless you are listing to Pink Floyd, in which case most things seem brilliant. Anyways… I think I’ll have to wait atleast a few days before this pain ebbs away.

Do watch the movie. I’ve always loved it. Well, loved before sunset more than before sunrise. Guess the one you pick says a lot about the kind of person that you are and how your train of thought flows. Do see them, if you haven’t already.

I had a dream …

… Well nothing akin to Martin Luther King’s dream. I actually had a dream with john Cleese that I kind of remembered when I woke up and that rarely happens (Now lets not jump into conclusions here. I don’t usually have weird dreams with old Englishmen in them. It’s probably ‘cos I finally got to see the movie, “a fish called wanda”, with him in it). Anyways, here he was, driving an auto in India. And some crappy funny thing happens (I’ve forgotten what it is now), and I was laughing so hard in the dream that I ended up waking up ‘cos of that. I’ve woken up ‘cos of scary dreams before, but never due to the fact that I was actually enjoying myself in one. How bizarre is that?

Maybe I'm only dreaming
That everything's gonna be okay
I don't need no rhyme or reason,
I'm gonna make it up along the way