A week of movies

So... the only thing I've managed, with a zillion pauses in the middle, is to have watched a few movies this week -

New York, I Love You

Up in the Air

The Holiday

5oo Days of Summer

and there some more lined up.

The thing is, in each of these movies, I saw a bit of myself. A bit of what I was, or thought, or am, as of today. Is that a good thing? Is it a sign? Why am I not able to figure it out ...

waiiiiiiiitttinggg

Alright. So I've been putting this off for quite a bit, but this is it. Really. I've been waiting to hear about my apps for the past few months now. The good bit is that not so many rejections till now means I would have survived several rounds of those, by now. The not so good news is that the wait is driving me nuts. It doesn't help that I had the week off from work.

I tried to keep myself busy, I really did. But honestly, nothing has worked. I pick up a book only to put it down after struggling to read a few pages. I begin a movie and pause it a zillion times just to check my email. I've been out with friends, but the whole time just thinking of what time and day it would be in several places in the US and therefore would there possibly be someone who would send out an email just when I'm not at home! I've begun sleeping alot more just to stop thinking about it, but now I'm just very over-slept and little else.

I don't want to talk to anyone about it. There really isn't much that people can say which they haven't already. I also don't have any answers to others who have begun enquiring about the status of the applications.

It's the worst kind of wait ever. Worse than the time I submitted the apps. Worse than most other things i don't like. It's a kind of anxiety you can understand only if you've been through this process. Why is it taking them so long? What if I don't make it? Am I really not that competent? What was I even thinking, applying there in the first place?! I couldn't be that bad an applicant, could I? What about funding?

Aaaaahhhh.... please god please (as M would say). Please! Just let me know. Whatever it is, just let me know. Please ...

Floating

I've been floating this whole week. The university is shut for prep-leave. I've slept in. Read Calvin & Hobbes. Watched lots of movies - liked them all but didn't like most of the endings for some reason. Done a lot of facebooking. Even earth hour today.

Trying to beat the heat. With lots of lemonade. Went shopping with D yesterday. Wasn't very fruitful.

Waiting crazily to hear about the PhD admits. Crazily. The only thing worse than the application process is this wait. It would be nice if one of the many unknowns become known!

Basically I've become a vegetable.

I think I'll just go watch another movie ... till the dawn breaks in another part of the world.

This is the third blog in a day. It has got to be the hormones.

So, if you've read the previous two blogs you will know I fought with the lambu & got emotional over another person's email. And it hasn't even been three hours since I woke up.

RG is having his eyes checked up. It's very rarely that he discusses it, and even more rare that he shows his fears regarding it. Today morning apparently both happened. Ma has just unburdened herself to me, and bloggie is where I unburden my mind and soul. Hence this ...

So he's having two check ups done today. No one should have to worry about such things, especially not him. Not at this time. You can't do this to doctors. It's not fair.

The thing is, it's scary. And I'm sure it must be worse for him. And at times like these, coming from a doctors' family really doesn't help. Trust me.

Anyway I am not resting till someone tells us exactly what needs to be done, what precautions need to be taken, and how it will/won't affect his career as a doctor. And all of this needs to be clarified before he goes away to that awful country. Sometimes i wonder why do we even want to go there?

Which brings me to my second set of concerns. (You'd think the hormones would give me a break now atleast ...)

If RG & I both move out, which seems pretty likely, then it's a difficult thought to think of all those who we'll leave behind here. If anything, this is the time we need to be around, and support them the way they have been there for us, for our every need, all these years. At some level I do feel a little selfish. But then I also know that, like the lambu said, our parents also want the best for us ...

But still, I worry about what we would do if anything were to happen, on either side of the world. I wonder how many families have sort-of-sleepless nights once they're scattered? Or do they just get used to it?

Have you ever felt like you can just connect to a complete stranger in a way you never thought was possible? I'm referring to someone who I've only heard of, many times. I've never met her, I've never spoken to her, I don't know anything about her except her name. Yet when I read this one email she wrote to someone who I know, I felt every word of it. I don't know if it's a woman thing...

Actually if I think about it, maybe I connected to what she wrote. The love, the longing, the wishing. The anxiousness about what lies ahead. The having to think of newer times but with more than a ton of memories from the years gone by. The still trying to understand, still trying to explain ... still not managing to, entirely.

There was so much she wrote. And so much more unsaid in that email. Yet it came through. Word for word. Something about that email saddened me like nothing else has in a very very very long time. Maybe because it's very believable. But mostly because it could have happened to anyone on this big planet, even me. And I felt I would have written exactly those words.

(And I'm sure the reply she received would have crushed her. I understand too where the reply came from, yet it seemed like the final blow.)

The lambu & I

This blog entry is about one of my most favourite people in the world.

I fought with the lambu. I'm always least proud of myself when I fight with him. Mainly because he's always been only the nicest to me. And still I fight with him. The thing is, it's not like I am consciously aware of even when the argument begins. As someone just said to me, "you never know what will anger him" ... So anyway we were just talking and then my internet stopped working and when it finally fixed itself a few hours later, I found a very cruel, very mean, very very cold mail from the lambu in my inbox. And see, that's the thing, I knew it wouldn't be pleasant. Still I read it. Again and again and again. I don't understand this implicit need to go on torturing myself! Also, with the lambu's e-mail's, it's like I'm reading an article for one of my lectures. At first when I read it, I only get the 'english' of it. Then I read it a few more times, and each time a little more of the context filters through to my understanding. So obviously by the time I was done getting all of it, I had experienced the entire gamut of emotions -

huh?!

wtf?!

excuse me but where did this email come from?

what does he think of himself?

fine we'll have it his way

does he think it's going to kill me? it's so not! I'll show him

no wait a minute, why should I listen to him in the first place

I am so not doing things his way!

Then I tried to draft a reply. And re-drafted it 7 times exactly. Then the internet stopped working again. I have no choice but to call it divine intervention. Because somewhere at the back of my mind I had been thinking of just sleeping over it. Which is what I did. Of course my sleep was very very disturbed, but that's better than sending out a reply which is all gibberish.

When I woke up, the internet was working again. So I log in to Gmail, quickly scan all the facebook updates in the inbox, just read the ones from him, which anyway were fairly non-threatening compared to the email of last night. I delete the rest of the updates, knowing they'll anyway show up on the Fb homepage. And get down to replying to that dratted email. By now, I'm mentally tired, and I have cried a few times. Still I send out 2-3 lines trying to sound all calm and composed and 'cool' with it all. Obviously I was anything but that. Still I sent that email. And then finished doing the daily rounds of Fb.

Back to the Gmail inbox, with that chat column on the left showing him online. I click on his name. And I begin to type. Then I get confused about what I want to say. Then a little bit of the ego comes in the way, why should I initiate this?! Then I close that window. And stare at his name again. Then after a while I take a deep breath, click again on his name, and being typing out my apologies. That then led to a conversation which is best left undisclosed. It brought up some very unexpected points and by the end of it I felt just so hurt (I mean, I know the guy was angry n all, but alot of what he said was totally uncalled for) that even my brain zoned out and all I could do was breathe.

So I breathed. Cried but only a little bit. The thing is, I know we fight, and that we disagree on more things that most people do. And that sometimes I do give him a hard time. But I've never thought it all this can beat us. And I still don't think so.

But then I guess that's just me ...

Back from a long overdue to visit to the city of Bangalore. I have to confess I was disappointed. But that's ok considering most of my trip was spent out of the city - in the beautiful tea estates of Wayanad, and the lovely beaches of Gokarna.

There's alot I could write about it, and I will. But just too tired right now.

More later...

They say anything worth having is worth fighting for. They also say if you really want something, then the entire universe conspires for you to get it.

I was believing the first statement till sometime back. Then it was as if I just got tired of fighting. With people. For things. For things to happen. I got tired of trying not to feel disappointed, of still finding ways to hope, again and again. I guess somewhere I realised it shouldn't be so hard, so difficult. And so for sometime now, I've begun letting go. Of the hope. I just wanted to step back a little.

In that scenario, I find myself being taken by surprise a little too much, all of a sudden. The kind words have become kinder. The understanding tone has become alot more than just understanding. The teasing and jokes have been supplemented with a different kind of talk all together. Some actions are leaving me stunned almost. Some topics have not been easy to discuss. But I'm glad there is space for that discussion as and when the need arises.

I am beginning to get a tiny glimpse into a kind of perspective that, while I had hoped for it, is leaving me speechless nonetheless. I do so want to believe in it a lot more than I'm letting myself. Maybe with time I will be able to understand why I feel scared by it right now. Until then the forces of nature may kindly step in. Now would be a really good time.

I'm upset. Hurt too, but more upset than anything else. I feel like all i really can do is to just let it all be the way it is. No more wishing, hoping, understanding ....

And I can't wait to leave all this tomorrow and be with AB & AA ...

Some differences, just like distances, can never be bridged I guess.

Changing seasons

I love the fact that we have a change of seasons to look forward to, every few months. I don't like the extreme nature that most of these seasons have begun assuming in recent years, but I still like the change they bring.

The other thing about seasons is, while there definitely is some scientific reasoning behind the shifts, we tend to view it with respect to festivals or other events in the country. (Actually the festival bit has something to do with the Hindu calendar but its best if I keep my ignorance about it to myself.)

So you often hear people in Delhi say that the winters end after Republic Day. Or with the festival of Lohri / Makar Sankranti (although they do have a significance of their own too). Spring is in Feb, the nicest time of the year in this city, and lasts through the first two weeks of march at max. Then the summer sets in. Which is what we're dreading since we'll be stuck with it all the way till October -end. Which is when Diwali happens, and usually it begins to cool down after that. In the middle in July-Aug we do have monsoons but they have become so erratic in recent past that one can no longer define a monsoon 'season' per se.

But we don't like the peak time of any season. Too much heat, too much cold, too much rainfall - we do not like it. Well I love the monsoons, but that's just me. Spring is way too short but I'm sure even if it got extended we would find something unpleasant about it too! (If that's possible).

Different seasons require different kinds of clothing. Which is mainly categorised as cottons vs woollens. It's time to bring out the cottons. They feel like such a refreshing change from the overbearing pullovers, shawls and other multiple layers of clothing that winter involves. The pastels, the pinks, yellows, blues, greens, all feel so light on the skin and just so summery.... And you can walk barefoot in the house on the farsh. The cement floor cools your feet in a way little else can.

:)

Nostalgia

So, I love my job. That includes my sense of belonging to the university campus, and its dynamics. I begin to realise how much though, every time we come close to term-end.

The campus becomes silent. The metro is less crowded. So are the roads. No more waiting at eating joints at lunch time. No more cheesy displays of young love! No more visual updates on the latest in fashion trends. No more groups of students sitting in college lawns for no reason at all. Alot more crowd at the xerox places! Suddenly the empty bags they carry throughout the year become too small for all the notes, articles and books that they realise have to be read.

As much as I was craving for term-end, it doesn't take me even a day to begin missing them. Meeting them every day, talking to them, trying to get them to talk (in/out of class), passing them by in the corridors or elsewhere ... I miss it all. My life feels empty all of a sudden.

Add to that the fact that my old set of students from last year are graduating this year. They've flooded FB with their farewell photos, comments, and notes. Needless to say it took me back to the time when we graduated. Seems like a lifetime ago. Those were such uncomplicated fun times - S, C, P, me and the others ...

Hockey ..

Hockey is this country's national game. Ofcourse you would find it hard to believe. But reasons for that constitute an entirely different story.

Two days back, we happened to go watch India play South Africa in the hockey world cup happening in New Delhi. The entire national stadium has been cordoned off from all sides. As we approached the India Gate roundabout, the night sky was illuminated by the bright lights of the stadium. We were making our way through the rigorous security check when we heard the roar of thousands of people as India scored a goal. At that moment all the policemen stopped talking amongst them. All the volunteers froze. So did the security check. As the cheering subsided, everyone outside broke into smiles. It's funny how inspite of not knowing the H of hockey, people can be united for a single moment.

Ok, so I've never seen a hockey match before this. Never live and as far as I can recall, never even on TV. I've watched cricket (but obviously), football, tennis (again obviously), even the occasional F1/badminton/gymnastics/table tennis/chess etc, but never hockey. Needless to say I was clueless about its finer points. But that's really not much of a handicap if you're just viewing the game...

Our box had alot of youngsters and for once I didn't mind the abuses that flew from peoples' mouths! Each time a south african player would tackle one of ours, or hit/push one of ours, invariably I heard people say "maar de saale ko!", "wahin maar de, hockey se!", "haath tod de b***** ka!" and so on... Whenever one of ours would be unable to hold onto the ball, after the initial urge to curse the fellow was overtaken by the realisation that he was one of ours, people would say "Chalo chalo! koi baat nahin!" in such a forgiving tone, it was ironic! . And each time the South Africans appealed against a goal, or for unfair play, everyone in the stands would start a "boo" which, lets just say, you wouldn't like to be at the receiving end of.

We missed on alot of goals. I can't describe the process of how in less than 2 seconds we would rise from our seats, begin to raise our hands to clap/catcall, open our throats to cheer out hoarse, and then just sit down dejectedly. However, when we did eventually score, there was a collective feeling of jubilation which also I can't being to describe. Young, old, men, women, children, policemen, security guards, media persons, everyone would be cheering like mad, and you could hear chants of "Indiaaaaaa....India " .

We had an interesting Sardarji sitting next to us, who knew more about the game than all of us put together. Which probably explains why throughout the match, he sat fixed on his seat, his arms crossed over his chest with the most cynical expression on his face, as if he was just putting up with the performance of the Indian team (which he apparently didn't think too much of!). Each time we would question the South Africans' appeals, he would explain to us why they were right and we weren't. Each time we'd hoot after a goal, he would glare at us and say "the goal's been scored hasn't it?! So why don't you settle down now!"

Each time we'd wonder where our defenders were, he would remark "oh they must be coming, from Punjab and Madras!" :D

And if we began questioning him too much he would get flustered and say "I'll tell you tomorrow!" :p

The match ended in a draw. What was more fun was this feeling of oneness we felt while we were there. Only a sport can do that.

Sudden rains

When the tug-of-war between the fat sun and the dark clouds eventually ends, it is the sun that is cajoled into giving in. And there are sudden rains. It's as if a reservoir of raindrops has just let go of them. Drenched in those, I feel as though I too can let go - Of inhibitions. Of pre-conceived notions. Of the ego. Of thinking about right vs wrong. There are shivers. There are goosebumps. There are tingles down my spine as I soak myself in the niceness that it brings. I hear the wind whisper of mysterious secrets & enticing possibilities that it carries from across the seas. It speaks to me, softly.

As the rhythm of the falling rain quickens, so does my heartbeat. Nothing else mattes. It's just that one moment in time. There's a sense of awareness, of being part of something which doesn't end and begin with me, which is much larger than you or me. It's a strange force of nature. For that moment I feel as though I've lived a little bit more.

Sudden rains. They take me by surprise. Every time.