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Aug 27, 2013

The road from #597 to #6757


I am on the brink of joining the elite company of people who take great pride in having a number associated with their name in public records! Yay!

Excuse me while I take a moment to throw humility out of the window and sniff on my vanity salts. Woosh!

There. Now, if you're bored and have loads of time to kill, you'll be able to look me up here very soon. I'm not there yet but I've gleefully jumped the gun and decided to announce this to the general populace anyway.
:D

Cheers to the girl who passed!

P.S. I was number 597 on the day I was born.

Aug 22, 2013

A tale of two snacks.

A few moons ago in Bangalore, an unexpected crowd of thousands of people was jostling its way into the platforms on Bangalore city railway station hoping to find a place in the few trains to Assam even as the state home minister appeared on the station loudspeaker urging these people to return to their homes in the city, trying to make them believe that they were safe. This sudden urge to flee the city was caused by continuous rumours that had been circulating in the days preceding to this sudden mass exodus which threatened people from the north-east about the safety and well being of their families and businesses in the city.

I was walking down a busy footpath next to the local park last week and I was reminded of this incident from last year as I saw the numerous momo stalls along the footpath which seemed to have cropped up overnight along this stretch that I happen to frequent. I counted and there were almost ten of these little momo stalls all run by people from the north east states. They seem to appear at about 7pm and are nowhere to be found by 9:30pm.

Among these momo stalls, I have a particular favourite when I find myself craving for vegetarian steamed momos after gym. He's the closest on my path and also the only one on the short walk after the park. This particular evening, I found him sharing a large umbrella with a Bihari golgappa/pani puri seller . It might seem silly but I found it very heart-warming when the pani puri seller helped my momo guy with some packing and finally some change to give to me. I know it's regular business for them but how often do we forget that we all need and complement each other. I believe in the importance of these little gestures which seem trivial on the surface. All this hate of each other based on the differences in our facial features, cultures, colours and religions is detrimental to nobody's well being except our own.

Maybe business is the best way to unite people and to get rid of all the baggage of prejudices we have from our ancestors about all the communities that we are not born into ourselves.

I am especially affected by the way my north eastern friends are continuously treated by people from my own region. I once watched in horror when an auto rickshaw driver in Bangalore threatened a friend of mine telling her he'd bash her face with an iron rod if she didn't pay him extra fare over the pre-paid amount that she'd been told to pay by the traffic constable on duty on M.G. road. Foreigners like her had to pay extra, she was told.

With all this on my mind, when I see people from the north east who generally keep themselves to their own groups (with good reason), feeling comfortable enough to mix with people from other regions, I feel hope for this country. I hope they continue to mix and stay together, only if it's just to sell. I love both momos and pani puri!

In the last few days I've found myself oscillating between different pieces of writing. I have an unfinished poem describing the comforts of using reason in daily life, a little scene from Independence day, a note about people from the North-east India and even a post on bindis. Where is all this writing, you may wonder.

When the mind isn't at rest, it finds no solace in completing anything that isn't immediately alleviating its worry. Without alarming any one too much, I'd like to stress that I am only a teensy bit worried and I'm doing very well. In fact, during this time I've come up with my own special concoction of green tea laced with a tiny portion of rum to keep me happy while I keep shuffling between various books that I am trying to read. The job will come when it comes, I've decided.

Aug 5, 2013

I felt the need to share this very brave story.

Love isn't my favorite subject to blog about but a lot of men and women need to be told that love shouldn't come in their lives with asterisks. The writer says some very important things about not involving yourself in relationships where you're asked to change, or give up other important relationships out of your life or follow rules that someone else lays down for you. It's all about how you feel you should be treated for the rest of your life. Some one once said that once you've compromised on the quality of an important relationship, you are much likelier to compromise on the quality of almost everything else in your life.