My Thoughts Keyboarded

Someone told me that writer’s block is basically the imaginary friend not willing to talk to the writer. If this is the case I think I lost mine, or perhaps he wandered off to a land where writing is as effortless as a waterfall or a sunrise.  And this post is my call, my ode and my plea for his mercy to come back to me. Every morning I take a 30-minute bus drive to work, through a freeway which is mostly surrounded by trees with little or no buildings of any sort. It is very calming journey. Except the humming sound of the bus, there is no other noise. In fact, it is kind of soothing to travel with that sound, it makes no sense and forms a background music to my thoughts. Morning sun plays with shadows on the floor and people are usually quiet, either scrolling through their phone or sleeping.  On these journeys, I either meditate, read or simply gaze through the window on the passing by sight with contemplation. I also make mental notes on the chang...

His voice pierced through the humming of the bus and snatum kaur singing from my earphone.  Few heads looked up with mine, to see who is making the noise. We were sitting on the top of double-decker bus, which was making a steady pace on the highway to work.  Sitting in the front seat was the loud toddler in uniform, who clearly seemed different and special . He was repeating some gibberish in a familiar nursery rhyme tune. Sitting next to him was his father, who neither responded to his loud singing, or to the murmurs of fellow passengers. He caught me looking at him and smiled at me and I responded with smile. He turned around kneeling in his seat to face me. He stretched his hands to reach and I extended mine. He got excited now, and started singing louder, holding my hand in swaying movement.  His hands and eyes did not coordinate, and he kept looking at the passing trees. Listening closely I realized he isn't singing gibberish but the actual r...

In the city where meals are happier than people who have it, no one has time to live in the moment. We even press ‘close’ button in the lift several times hoping it would close faster. We hold our breath in weekdays and breathe out during weekends. We constantly long for long weekends. While we like living in this city, we love escaping it during long weekends.  Perhaps we believe our work is our purpose, and holiday is a form of reward. But if you were to take two week holiday with no new city to visit or agenda to attend to, you would go crazy. That was exactly my mindset when I had a surgery recently. My gallbladder was removed and I had to rest for couple of weeks. My activity for the day were eat, sleep, pee and a short walk around the block.  First few days flew as I concentrated on finding the best position to sleep, and enjoying the attention from others.  And then there was my mom. After the operation I couldn't take the pain and I wept on her sho...

You know the feeling you get in the morning, waking up from a dream to find your surrounding is totally different and undesirable?  Your own room feels like a different place and all you want is to crawl back into that black hole and go back to that dream.  Yes I am in that mood today, now. It was a beautiful summer dream. The time must be late evening, The whole scene is lit with reddish-yellow gradient haze.  Like the kind of lighting that happens once in a while during twilight -  due to strange cosmic phenomenon. I am standing in the terrace at my grandma's place, looking down,with my hands resting on the wall. The garden at the front yard is filled with lush, dark fountain grass. There is a small pathway made of fine beach sand that separates the sea of fountain grass. Like a thin line when a women's hair is neatly combed to two parts. There are two kids lying in the sand. Everything is in shades of red-yellow-orange except for green gooseberries whic...

Sitting at front of City hall metro station with a cup of rice balls in soya milk, I am watching people walk by.  It's about half past five in the evening and air is crisp. The shoppers, the commuters, the suited men and the ladies with baby stroller. They all seem to have one thing in common. They seem to be in their own world, confined to their own private aura.   In my 3 plus years of live in relationship with Singapore, I found it challenging to start a decent conversation with a localite here. A smile, or a hello are usually responded with a god-knows-what-weird expression.  On the other hand, it's easy to talk to expats, tourists and young hearted seniors. You can talk about weather, their work, ask for direction, guide them for direction or in my case even share a meal.  Being single here, I mostly end up sharing the dinning table at Kopitiams (food courts of Singapore). And invariable say hello and start a conversation with the person attending to hung...

I bet, If you take a Singapore train by hand and rattle it in the air, the number of electronic gadgets flying out would be at least twice the number of people on board. And I also bet if you have a python taped to the ceiling of the cabin, no one would notice, because everyone is busy looking down on Ipad,phone,pod or psp. Occasionally you would find someone reading books, or handling their kids or adjusting a big bag from Mustafa. These are either housewives, old, Indians or all of the above.The good thing is no one cares about the business of other, and the bad thing is no one cares about the other. In the city where one can get happy meals at 2 in the morning and have wending machines to serve drinks all day long, no one needs anyone. Last friday, I was walking home close to 11 in the night after a solo basket ball game. I heard weeping sound from the side walk and went closer to check. There she was, a 68 year old beautiful Chinese lady s...

"How long is one second chichu mama?" my nephew asked me, without lifting his head from the jigsaw puzzle we were playing. I looked up wondering what to say.  "hmmm.. I dont know kutti, why dont you tell me how long it is?". He smiled at me, with his iam-gonna-make-something-up-look. He held his two tiny hands apart as if he is holding an invisible ball and said "this much". The next ten seconds were long enough to pick him up and swirl him around. He put his arms out and pretended to be a jet plane. We crash landed on the bed and giggled for long. "NEXT.." the voice was loud enough to jolt me back to where I was. I was standing in the queue to student service at my college. It took one soft drink, 28 pages of Mitch albom's book and a day dream - in total a good two and half hours before I reached the counter.While the short Filipino lady waited impatiently, I fumbled through my valet and handed her my student ID.   " hi , I just finis...

2 am saturday night sitting awake with laptop on I have thoughts to fight and gauge whats right So I keep thinking on and on tonight. Projects to be done and books to be read but I gaze on cause there are things to be said. cheerful as gay and a smile ear to ear thats what people say but they dont see it clear. My heart is full but my valet is light for love is all i can give at will till my time is right. I keep forgetting its the material world I still keep believing that love could mend and all we need is some time to spend. I walk with dreams and sleep with nightmares I chase them all day like a dog and they croak all night like a frog. With millions friends to help and million hearts to cheer I keep hoping things would be better Its not easy when u give it all up for what u love may not fill today's cup I am tired and may lose to those black thoughts on the loose for words killed my smiles today and laughing so loud, but behold...

Singapore is.. Where Chinese who lives in Malaysia, and Malay who lives in Singapore have similar customs. Its safe to drink tap water and yet most of them buy mineral water bottle (which now believed to have harmful chemicals) Tipping a taxi driver or anyone is considered an insult! People get pissed off when train takes a second or two to open the doors to the platform. Pedestrian thinks pressing the signal umpteen times would make it green soon. Rickshaw tours are still popular. -----------you can find public toilet almost anywhere :)----------- you can see devoted chinese in Ganapathi temples and Indians in Budda temple . The second part mostly involves cannon camera (those with big lenses which looks exactly like the big cannons at war) shutterbugs. People take part in walking, running and sometimes shaving the head ,not to win but only to donate money to charities. Men walk around completely "free" in swimming pool shower rooms. Milo can be decl...

Hey there, Two friends met after what seemed to be eternity. They both used to spend hours after hours chatting about each other's life and zillion things under the sun.  Not all  interests were similar, in fact the ones that arent made their conversation much more interesting. During some of their darkest time, both stuck to each other proving  friends are the best shrink anyone can get. Then life happened.  The only thing to do was accept it and shuffle and recreate their priorities. What once a beautiful time together  became a distant, yet sweet memory in the heart.  There were million ways to be in touch yet they drifted apart carried by the strong current of life. One fine day it happened, they met. There must be something in the stars, or perhaps sheer fate or just a random power cut in the evening. Like the one that happens during Indian summer, where watching stars in the terrace in the cooling breeze is the best thing to ...

To read the curtain raiser click here “You are pregnant” said Marsha “Excuse me?” replied Malini “I said you are pregnant” She felt the energy of the new life emanating from Malini. Malini suddenly felt dizzy, she looked around for a chair to sit, but started falling before she could take the next step. Marsha caught her just in time. Malini opened her eyes when she felt the moist hands of Marsha on her face. Marsha spoke in whisper. “Are you feeling ok?” “Yes I guess. How do you know I am pregnant? I am not even sure yet” “I just know” she replied, and that’s how their friendship began. From then on they met frequently. Sometimes Malini would go to Marsha’s house for a chat over coffee, a healing session or even for a witch ritual. In the days that passed Ranbir saw a total shift in Malini’s behaviour, she was happier than ever and was very comfortable with pregnancy. Now and then Malini would talk about rituals, and meditations she does with Marsha, over breakfast or...

I lost a follower! Wait that’s not the worst part, I don’t know which one it is! I am a avid keeper of followers and fellow bloggers and I always try my best to keep up with them. Then comes series of “maybes”. Why did he/she stop being my follower? May be its something I wrote, May be its something I was expected to write but did not. May be I started snoring. May be I have to shave my ears! You get the drift. I am wrapping up in Chennai; Yes I am shifting to Bangalore for as many reasons as you can count with fingers in two hands. One more challenge to my list – coping up. Although it’s few hundred kilometers away from Chennai, Bangalore is very different from it. Its ever changing landscape and vibe is shaped up by thousands of IT expats from all around India and abroad. I am excited to the point that I feel like a villager migrating to a big city. On the love front, things have been amazingly normal, given my mood swings and our occasional confrontations. “You look so ...

I got this crazy idea that I had to pen err, keyboard it down immediately. So I am writing this post at 12:50 am, talk about peak of joblessness ;) Most of the Indians might know this story told by our grandma/mom when we were kids “Patti vadai sutta kadhai”(Granny, crow and the fox story) . What if some of our beloved bloggers had written their version of it? For those who don’t know the story, here is the short version. A granny was making delicious Indian fritters and a crow stole one of them. While the crow was on the tree about to eat the snack, a fox came along. Being clever self, the fox planned to steal that fritter from the crow. It said to the crow “you look beautiful and I really wonder how sweet your voice would be, could you sing for me please? “ The foolish crow did what’s been asked and lost the fritter. The story was said to promote the values of not stealing, being clever blah blah, you get the idea. Now to “I-have-gone-nuts-on-Saturday-night” versions of it. Disc...

I swing everyday, every hour, and every minute. Remember the craziness of Madagascar buddies when they are left free in the forest? Free (yet scared) and happy (yet confused), the only hope is being together with friends. With few days left in my notice period, I am going through exactly that. My mood swings from temporary euphoria to sudden depression and I feel like shuttling between North Pole to Sahara. I am just preparing myself for long days of my life Music keeps me going In movies, (defn not the Hollywood ones), when the hero goes through a career dip, they would show how he suffers at first. And then bang! A song sequence with many short clips of his hard work and perseverance is enough to make him millionaire. That hardly ever happens in real. But I firmly believe I am going to see some interesting developments in forthcoming days. Needless to say I would post every detail of this journey, and you guys would be the first ones to know. I love Pakistan I am sur...

Trying to cut down on food while staying with mother is like the nose itch you get while you are washing  clothes. Sooner or later (actually soonest) the itch takes over and you won’t even regret for it. Even now I have eaten more and feel like pregnant women or python, actually more like a tom (from Tom and Jerry) that gobbled a melon and looks just like that. It’s been a month since I exercised, and I found the best way to stop worrying - I stopped checking my weight. Have you ever communicated with your pet without a word? (duh!) . The dog we pet was kept by workers while constructing our home. After we moved in, mom started feeding her and she became very loyal guardian of our gate. Its name is Julie and as strange as it sounds, everyone addresses her as he. My mom started it before she read its bar code and we stuck to it. We feed him rice twice a day and crackers/rusk whenever I or dad gets home. I feed him every time I come back home. It’s hard not to - when he gree...