Slurp

Lick. Lick. Lick. Stop.

A mouth-watering medley of random moments captured in its purest form. One plus one equals one, especially when both co-dependent entities share one navel attaching human twine. Made from the same dirt like renditions of Van Gogh that can merely be imitated but never really duplicated. I have that. Sheltered and protected like a secret stash of soul food, nestled away in hard to locate regions of my life. And when I have days where the joy outweighs the pain or vice versa – I burrow deep to unearth my hidden treasure.

Today, I had a Friday – kinda epiphany glazed with sundrops thanks to Mama Spring and her dutiful herons. It arrived virtually. For the first time ever – as in EVER EVER – I felt like Mikes was my own. Not the same as what I described above (nothing can touch that relation of the soul) but similar enough to shrink the distance that separates two strangers. What did he do to deserve this promotion? Abso-freakin-lutely nothing. It was fleeting. A mere thoughtlet that brought a smile to my lips and touched the corners of my eyes. And in that moment I felt the onion-layer effect.

This relationship, our relationship, has been just that. A gradual process of revealing layers – physical, emotional and psychological. Slowly we undress in front of each other under bright life-permeating lights– playing a celestial game of de-masking the soul. And oftentimes, I find this grating a process (read: nails on a chalk board) while I’m sure he barely notices the intricacies of this dance. Peeling back all the fronts that we cultivate through life is hard work, far more back breaking than casual relationships with friends who come with unmentionable benefits. Life long loving is tough. Yet today, it felt effortless. I’ve nursed this burgeoning excitement all day. Not because we plan to cause a ruckus tonight, or heck even get into anything super-exciting but, simply because I’ll get to see him. Hanging out with him far exceeds a “Pretty Woman”esque romantic date with any other stranger – and I adore that. Today, I feel like he’s one step closer to being my family. Not quite there yet but, heck he’s certainly not stuck at the bottom of the ladder anymore.

It’s quite fascinating how a person can go from merely mattering to having a profound effect on your life in nanoseconds. Something happens that changes the energy that surrounds your relationship and suddenly – you are caught in a whirlwind. Déjà vu – our first date was reminiscent of this. At the beginning of the evening almost three years ago, I couldn’t wait for our date to end. And somewhere between watching an independent film, indulging in chocolate toast and bubble tea and a chilly walk through a bustling uptown street – something changed. He planted his lips firmly on mine and breathed life to a brand new rishtha (relationship) that has stood the test of time and temperament.

Why this sudden introspection regarding the one thing I don’t worry about too often? Perhaps its our approaching anniversary (april 11) or perhaps its the ring finger on my left hand finally saying: I get it. I do. I do. I do.

Knowledge is power people. Especially when you begin to know yourself. It definitely lives on the list of yummiest moments in my life, thus far.

Have a good weekend.

Hide & Seek

that's the game I tend to play with my heart. Often they start in the darkness of night, when nobody is watching and no one is accountable for getting lost or getting found. I find that I lose myself in the day. Between tasks, thoughts, trials, tribulations, trails that never end and I toil like the day never began.

On most days, i wish that darkness would stay a little longer. To fortify my childlike soul, constantly fighting against the flow. Reality is merely that - real. Momentary. Fleeting. Unyielding. Unsatisfactory. Permanent. Nothing you do can be undone because it disappears as waves do, silently - marklessly. If you blink too long, you might end up missing all of it.

And that's where I am, today. An eternal blink where my pupils hide behind fearful reefs - unceremoniously avoiding the piercing gaze of life. Raw. Why must anything powerful come with change? What happened to unicorns with pale shimmery wings and the magic forest with the promise of hide and never be found?

It's there. Nestled somewhere inbetween who I am and what I've learnt through the course of this life - it's there. In hiding. Incognito. Still waiting to be found.

3...2...1.

Damn, its still coming up short.

One instance

when stealing rocks.

I found this on malvado's page (a fellow flogger) as his descriptive blurb. And I couldn't help but think that this is what ALL OF US should be aiming for. F*ck being safe. F*ck playing it conservative. If all we have is one chance, lets turn this muthaf*#kin' place out!

Hopefully, he won't mind me posting his words of wisdom!

---:::---

"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out , and loudly proclaiming...WOW, that was one hell of a ride!"

Miniscule

On some days, that’s how this life feels. Small, manageable, easy to clean up and put away. Unfortunately, I haven’t had one of those days in quite a while. Lately, things have been changing all around me and being the water sign that I am, I tend to ebb, flow and change directions simply by being alive.

Breathe in. Breathe out. A mantra or a forced reminder?

On a good day, it feels like someone’s sitting on the remote that controls my life and their ass cheek hit the fast forward button on my existence. Super sonic speeds –enough to make anyone feel like they’re caught in a whirlwind. And I’m starting to realize that I’m only human. (kinda late but hey, better late than never right)

Five things that have changed in 2006:

1.the way I see myself in terms of my career aspirations – juggling balls is the only metaphor that seems to work.

2.the way I see my family – ever since my left hand has been honoured with a ring – I feel even more attached to my family (if that’s possible). I look longingly at each of them, usually at inopportune moments (thereby making myself the butt of their jokes) in fear of leaving and losing. this worries me to no end. everything in life has only proven that marriage complicates matters of the heart. i refuse to let that happen with me. i refuse to be torn from the dirt that i'm made of. and that is my single-minded goal.

3.the way I see mikey – before he was just a boy that I liked hanging out with – now, he’s a boy that I’m willing to live with – and that’s huge. Not at all the romantic fairytale – I see work, work and more back breaking work. In a good way. Loving my family is easy. Loving them every day, unconditionally is damn hard. And now, i'm learning to do that with Mikey. I'm learning to love him unconditionally (not in a hallmark-speak way but in a if you were crippled, i'd still love you way) - sounds harsh? well, atleast its real.

4.the way I interact with “love” – it feels more real now. Surprisingly so. Especially because I always assumed that nothing would change. Now, I look at my growing parivar and I shake my head in apprehension. How am I going to make this work? I don’t know if I have enough love to give to all these extra new people – I can take anything that the people in my family throw at me and now, I’ve gotta add more than a generous helping of resilience to these new loves – in the name of growing pains that is. all i have to travel on is hope and a prayer.

5.my definition of self – a daughter, a sister, a writer, a friend, a girlfriend, a protector, a lifelong learner, a scared almost 30year old on the verge of yet another direction change – my river keeps flowing despite the course it takes. And I keep looking back to make sure that the ones that I love are still there, anchoring me – I’m co-dependent on my family when it comes to defining myself. Pathetic? Maybe so. But, it’s the only way I know how to play this game.

Phew. Exhale.

Thankfully it’s another Friday. The beginning of a weekend sans wedding planning. A weekend where I hope to nurse myself better, kick this flu bug and get in some quality family time. I need it.

Heck, when have I ever not needed more family time???!

Chapters 1-6 of Me

Inspired by the verbally ambidextrous suse - here's the start of my novella. Sadly, its far less interesting than i hoped it would be.
--::--
Enjoy!
--:::--
Chapter 1:

Initials: JRR
Middle name: Radha (Blame my grandpa and his Sri Lankan roots)
Date of birth: 10/24
Current location: the Tdot
Height: 5'6 (in my dreams) – 5’3 in reality
Hair length: about there…
Eye color: dark chocolate brown
Piercings: 3 on right ear, 4 on left.

Chapter 2:

Do you live with your parents: yes,yes and yes. Thank heavens I do!

Do you get along with your parents: all the time – so much so that it sickens the general public

Are your parents married/separated/divorced: married – and still in love.

Any siblings: 1 soulmate, 1 good friend, 1 four legged munchkin’ & a divaesque kitty

What pets do you have: a zoo full according to my amma. ( rashmi is a monkey and sparky is a dog and trixie is a cat..and well dad, trust me – you don’t want to know what appa can be )

Chapter 3: Favorites

Ice cream flavor: Orange Sorbet
Season: Summer for sandals, Spring for introspection
Clothing brand: Prada (shhh…I’m still sleeping)
Shampoo/conditioner: Dove (I’ m a sucka for great commercials)
Color: Orange

Chapter 4: Do You ...

Sing in the shower: sometimes – I’ve been known to belt out some made up melodies.

Call people back: if I feel like it but, usually I tend to forget – unless your name is Rama or Appa

Believe in love: the type you have to work at? – hell yes. The @first sight type – not so much.

Sleep on a certain side of the bed: I’ve got a cramped single – the only side it has is the middle.

Wear glasses or contacts: tortoise shell glasses when I’m on the computer.
Have any weird habits: can’t bear to paint my fingernails, I flog and blog – weird enough?

Chapter 5: Have You Ever...

Gone skinny dipping: The last time was with a bunch of people who I happily call my friends now.

Worn braces: never – and you can tell that I was a thumb sucker!

Broken a bone: not that I remember

Had stitches: Yes – a rough episode with some sugar cane – my belly gets me into trouble more often that I’d like to think.

Shoplifted: Once @Kmart (on a dare) – Amma made me return it - They told me never to come back then, they went out of business.

Punched someone in the face: Nope – never had the balls to.

Taken painkillers: You call them painkillers, I call them “get through the day”ers (im joking)

Gone scuba diving: no – I will one day though.

Been stung by a bee: nope.but i got bee-stung lips thanks to my uber pricey lipgloss

Thrown up in a restaurant: yup – 19th birthday was probably the most memorable of the bunch.

Been to overnight camp: yup – couldn’t wait to get out and get back to civilization

Written a letter to Santa Clause: yup – like last christmas - how'd you think i got my pressies?

Had detention: unfortunately yes.

Been called a SLUT/WHORE: nods head- needless to say they never repeated themselves.

Chaper 6: Who/What was the last..

Person to IM you: a friend from work on my sick day off
Person to call you: Rama – yes, I know I live with her
Person you hugged: Rama – yes, I know we are big geeks.
Thing you touched: a pen to jot a message down
Thing you ate: Cornish Hen soup – it’s our traditional “feel better” meal
Drank: water and tea
Thing you said: time to go beddy bye and it’s only 9:00pm

Night!

To leave or not to leave...that was apparently never the question.

Like time-kissed photographs enveloped in sepia tones, there are memories drenched in yesterdays that lurk in the crevices of my cerebrum. A fellow flogger recently experienced the unfortunate passing of a dear friend, someone who made the choice to seek a tomorrow that transcends our reality. And as if on cue, my mind flipped back the calendar to the day that we got home and realized that one of our family friends lost her son to the evil that lurked in the ravine by our condo in the sheltered ‘burbs. Ironic wouldn’t you say? In the quiet of a well pruned area hung a boy – an artists rendition of celestial irony.

It was such an emotionally horrendous experience for everyone involved. I mean, us girls, exchanged knowing looks – fully aware of the darkness that used to scare the living daylights out of us on our walks to school.

Beautiful yet alarmingly quiet. That’s where everything horrendous went down. From dirty ole perv’s who dropped their pants at the mere sighting of a barely grown child, to angry bums who screamed their ailments at the top of their voices sucking back bottles of rye – this ravine was the breeding ground for the unwanted, the irrelevant and the creepy that lived amongst the seemingly well to do crowds. And that’s where it happened.

This kid, barely 18, strategically planned his exit. The cops found internet files detailing painless ways to kiss the angel of death – he must have sifted through his options before he decided to settle on an innocent birch. That night, its branches were bubblewrapped in infamy. Countless search parties, highlighter yellow caution tape, news crews – they all took their turn tumbling through the often “oohd and ahhhd” ravine. Nature, on man’s urging, had taken a life by simply being available. See idle branches, much like idle minds, is no mans friend.

I cried for what felt like days, although I’m certain that it was mere minutes elongated by the hands of a generous clock. Survived by hard working parents who didn’t understand and two sisters who couldn’t understand, he wrote his exit line and pulled the curtains shut – largely unconcerned about his fellow cast members or the audience he left behind.

And cue to the Applause.

You see, that’s always made me wonder one thing: How do you leave, forever, without looking back at the ones that complete you? Forever – understand that this means – today, tomorrow and for the rest of your existence.

The thought of my loved ones interacting with Yama, dancing to his exit tune, kissing the blue tinged lips of the god that rides a bull – heck, it scares the living daylights out of me. Yes I know I’ll survive. Yes I know I’ll be strong. I’ll have friends to hold my hand, walk me through, lend me a shoulder – but, when dusk hits and I’m left alone with haunting thoughts…will any of that matter? Can anything ease the pain of knowing that they won’t be there when you wake up the next morning.

With my own brand of bravado, I always tell myself that things will be fine. Regardless of whose alive and whose not – my life will go on because my dad has raised a daughter who can stand on her own two feet. That I will hold my head up high, march to the tune of my own drummer and survive. And yet, even before the words leave my lips and touches the air that transports it, tears of lead begin to form.

I used to live in fear once that I’d lose someone in my life that meant more to me that I cared to admit. I used to check up on her by standing in her doorway and waiting to see her chest heave signaling her stay in my world. I used to hide sharp objects, diligently watch my words, pray on a daily basis that she wouldn’t be so selfish as to tear my parivar apart and then…something happened. I woke up one morning and realized that I had stopped caring. Not about her – never about her. But, I’d stopped caring about the threat of impending death. How does that cliché go…a dog that barks..never…yeah, you get it. I didn’t care anymore because a part of me expected it and a part of me believed it would never happen.

A throbbing numbness. I was so numb with the constant threat of departure, that I had steeled myself against feeling anything. And that became the fear that chased me – I wonder if matadors feel this way when the bull flips the script, takes control and chases them up and down the stadium….

My seemingly numb emotional state has come to terms with the fact that I can’t beg people to stay. Heck, on a good day, I can’t even get the people I love to understand my point of view and move in the same direction. Things like this scare me but, what scares me more is my ability to move past it and forget the hurt.

I had. It was erased. Completely so. Until my flogfriend shared her experience and unleased tsunami-like waves that reeked of this other weather beaten story. I’ve always had this great propensity for getting over things on the outside– quickly, easily, efficiently.

Sometimes, there’s nothing we can do to alter the outcome of an equation. Sometimes, regardless of how much we pray, how much we hope, wish, and stand on our heads – things will play out the way they were meant to be. And that my dear friends, is scary in and of itself.

A pointless post. Yet, I feel wonderfully relieved and unburdened.

Now if only everything in life came with an easy aside.

Courtesy of Starf#&ks…

This little tidbit graced my venti 1% vanilla latte making it as profound a vehicle as Deepak Chopra or his pen pals.

The Way I see it #63
Our lives are inspired by the dreams we have from the earliest stages of our youth. When you combine passion and hard work, then success is always possible. While no road is ever straight, dedication and persistence will always lead you to your dreams.

Come On! – On my cup? I realize that advertising is powerful – I mean, you don’t have to preach to the converted. But on a cup? At just after 6am? I’m all for a little bit of inspiring self-talk now and again, heck – I even indulge in it myself (in front of a mirror in the comfort of my blazing orange room) – but corporate inspiration? Can Starbucks get more contrived than this?

No doubt, this is a piece of well-crafted marketing jargon to once again identify with the intellectually-rebellious, spiritually-grounded target group, that most of us happen to find ourselves in. But really, what’s next? Motivational messages on our TTC transfers?

Maybe I’m just having an easily irritable day – if that’s the case – pray for me folks – because today promises to be chaotic.

--

In other news – I also found out that while fear of failure is a popular hurdle to jump – fear of accomplishment is quickly catching up. So guess what – I’m the oxymoron that’s stuck in this catch 22 – yay me.

To love..

is to leave oneself open to pain.

Romantic or otherwise, the conclusion is crystal: every love ends in tragedy, because one of the lovers must die. That's Hemingway paraphrased.
Smart man. Knew much. Spoke less. And somehow, captured life beautifully.

--::--
tonight, it plagues me because I've got mortality on my mind and lead for feet. It keeps playing the same ole broken record - over and over and over again.
--::--

fear.what else is new?
fades to black.

Cringe-worthy

When the walls that surround your world, start to close in - that's when you realize the importance of the intangible that guides reason. Today, i hope that I find this elusive bird that brings peace on its wings.


Faith is the bird that feels the light when the dawn is still dark.
--Rabindranath Tagore

I know...I wish...I hope

inspired by lil niki whose got a surprisingly big heart!
--::--

I Live: in Toronto, Canada (land of the losing jays & phallic monuments)

I Work: in Corporate Communications – my creativity hasn’t quite left the building yet.

I Talk: non-freakin-stop

I Wish: for pure bliss to envelope the ones I adore.

I Enjoy: being loved.

I Look: like a little teapot – short and stout – (scary? Rama actually sang it – that’s scarier)

I'm sure: that there’s someone up there rooting for all of us.

I Find: that I’m still nursing the remnants of my vain and superficial past.

I Smell: like I’m Live, and charged. (bad puns aside: usually I smell like coco butter)

I Listen: to my dad secretly. I’d hate for him to think that I ‘follow’ his words ;)

I Hide: my insecurities quite well. Unfortunately, that’s all I seem to be able to hide.

I Pray: more than I thought I ever would in my youth.

I Walk: because nobody will carry me. I remember a time when walking was fun.

I Write: almost as much as I breathe.

I See: with my heart more than my eyes.

I Sing: off key – any and every chance I get.

I Laugh: and sometimes, even snort.

I love: my books and shoes. Oh and sometimes, my friends and family ;)

I can: make myself believe ANYTHING. (scary innit?)

I Watch: what I say to certain people – because the truth is hard to handle.

I Learn: on a daily basis just by being alive.

I Dream: more than one person should – and morosely, my dreams evolve.

I Want: to be the Brain. Any takers for Pinky?

I Cry: too freakin much these days – I think im menopausing or something.

I Burn: myself by loving too much, too fast, too often.

I Read: and worship the written word – in any avatar.

I Sometimes: wish I could change everything for the one’s I love. Most times, I just wish I had a Cadbury cream egg.

I Touch: because my fingers are rebellious as my cerebrum is.

I Hurt: when the one’s I love don’t love me as much.

I Fear: failure. Without a doubt.

I Hope: that my sisters experience the bliss that I chase so single-mindedly.

I Break: people’s hearts unwittingly. I used to always get accused of that in my youth.

I Eat: more than I should but less than I can.

I Quit: where should I start? Guitar, piano, the gym, smoking, optimism – all of em – gone.

I Bathe: Who has the time for that? I shower like a rockstar.

I Drink: copious amounts of caffiene and water.

I Save: words in the crevices of my mind. And sometimes, it’s the evil things that people say.

I Hug: the ones that need it the most. I used to be touch-phobic when I was little. Now, it’s quite the opposite.

I Meditate: more than I did in previous lifetimes.

I Play: this game of hide and seek with my dreams.

I Miss: my grandma and the innocence of walking barefeet alongside rail tracks in Colombo.

I Hold: the ones I love close to my heart.

I Forgive: but I never forget.

I Drive: an Antelope. No, no – I wish I drove an Antelope. I drive a civic – see how sometimes the truth - sucks?!

I Have: nothing that I will take with me when I leave.

I Don't: understand people without manners or dreams.

I Made: my sisters do everything for me when they were young. Now, they’ve flipped the script on my behind!

I Kiss: the ground at the temple and the cheeks of many in my life.

I Believe: that some of us are blessed enough to radiate nothing but goodness - I'm blessed to know many such people.

I Owe: so much to everyone for so many things. I’ve stopped counting and hopefully, they have too.

I Feel: like a one-winged bird sometimes but then I look across the room and realize that I come from a strong flock of air-defenders.

I Know: that this life is too short for regrets and too long to give up the things that bring you joy.

--
And my own additions:

I chew: each mouthful, carefully.
I will: make a difference in someone's life by writing something profound- one day.
I am: the answer to many of the questions that plague me.
I remember: the kindness of strangers and the thoughtfulness of those I love.
I'm grateful: for being alive.

--
that's all folks.
have a safe and happy weekend.

I heart....

(keeping with the spirit of St.Valentine...here is my Feb 14 06 list of things/people I'm feelin' in no particular order...)

early morning bus rides....vivid orange gerberas...raspberry chocolate coffee....Rama's ceaseless 4am alarm....Rama...my comforter....elepoo....the moment fire touches thiri in our pooja room...Amma at 5am...sunshine...the smell of sunlight on my clothes...Appa when he's grumpy...Rashmi when she's not...seedless cucumbers...big ole sunkist oranges...Tridents Vanilla-Mint Splash...laying on mikeys arm...the smell of sweat on sparks...Rammy's crazy laugh...Fallen by Sarah...old friends...Second Cup dates...a long romantic date with java and a book...orange bedrooms and work spaces...Trixie chasing her own tail...friends who are more like family...phone calls that connect the divide...blogs that motivate...flogs that reaffirm life's goodness...friends i've never met...friends i need to meet more often...cradling pudgy rakshaa...wedding emails from Mich...orange waterbottles...blistex...black pens…yogurt...to do lists (though they never get done)...mikey (annoyed or otherwise)...Verdana in a 10pt size...the smell of musky books...SJP in SATC...girlfriends to giggle with...laughter ( i need more of this)...coming up with excuses for not working out...all night dates...long conversations...pomegranates…stories (bed time or not)...presents...David sedaris...taking pictures of everything...Winners...waking up every morning...milk hoppers...motivational e-mails...being so blessed...brown people…things that sparkle...my iPod...coming home...me.

The alphabet

the way it should've been written.

--::--

A is for Age:
25…but I’ve celebrated that anniversary three times ;)

B is for Booze of choice:
Vodka preferably mixed with some cranberryesque

C is for Career:
Well C should be for change because that’s pretty much defined my career so far – the only constant is the written word.

D is for your Dog's name:
Sparky..plung…pulee…my hyperactive lil crap-factory

E is for Essential items you use every day:
cell phone, blistex, iPod

F is for Favorite song at the moment:
Collide – Howie Day (don’t laugh..i could be mushy)

G is for favorite Games:
Scrabble

H is for Hometown:
Toronto, Ontario

I is for Instruments you play:
Guitar at 7 – got one, then quit. Piano in my teens – then quit. Flute for a semester.

J is for Jam or Jelly you like:
Raspberry chunks…yummmers…no sugar added of course.

K is for Kids:
Maybe later – thanks.

L is for Last kiss:
Mikey (urgh, the bane of being in a long term relationship is never having multiple last kisses)

M is for Most admired trait:
flirtatiousness….huh! and that was from Rama – so…guess I don’t really have a most admired trait (note to self: get one pronto)

Most admired by others:
my intelligence (hehe) – okay fine, I guess they’d think I’m quite gregarious.

N is for Name of your crush:
Do girls count ?
D’Angelo….but, only in that one video – ladies, you know the one I’m referring to.

O is for Overnight hospital stays:
a couple times…but I just stuck around for the really bad coffee 


P is for phobias:
failure, failure and more failure – not just a phobia but a paralyzing fear. That and amounting to nothing.

Q is for quotes you like:
If you think you can – you can. If you think you can’t – you probably won’t.

R is for biggest Regret:
I should’ve slept more in my youth – especially during university – I’m starting to feel the lack of sleep catching up.

S is for Sweets of your choice:
Umm..where should I begin and how many days do you have? Unfortunately, I’ve been cut off.

T is for Time you wake up:
5:00am

U is for Underwear:
all the time, thank you.

V is for Vegetable you love:
corn on the cob, broccoli, eggplant, okra, spinach & daal

W is for Worst Habit:
expecting the worst, procrastinating

X is for X-rays you've had:
atleast 4 or 5

Y is for Yummy food you make:
Good butter chicken, a mean lasagna and the best: a really yummy cup of joe!

Z is for Zodiac sign:
Cusp: libra/scorpio. If you ask a tamil astrologer – I’m a pisces. GO figure
--::--

strangely, this exercise was a moment of introspection.
woah. i think i need a hug.

Blessed Fours

courtesy of sibil.

And Niki - who tagged me. When I wasn't looking - my apologies honey - next time I will practice some much needed mindfulness.

--::--
Four jobs I have had: (oy vey, where do i start)

1. Chuck E Cheese: Hostess which was fun and games until I was forced into Chuck's slimy suit on one ill fated day - i learnt this: kids can be mean spirited brats.

2. RA during my university days for a crotchety old music professor who while a musical genius couldn't stay on top of his research for shiiit.

3. Wedding Events Coordinator : for a local catering company. My first encounter with bridezilla's - probably also the reason I have issues concerning planning my own wedding.

4. Copywhore for an ad agency - looooved it, adored it, ate, drank, lived, shat, breathed it until i woke up and realized it was slowly but surely killing me :(


Four movies I could watch over and over:

1. Sound of Music (don't laugh)
2. Love Jones (when i believed i was the next big thing in spoken word)
3. Kannathil Mutham Ittal (an expose on the atrocities that befell tamil folk in SL)
4. 2-way tie- Garden State/Sideways

Four places I've lived :

1. Colombo, Sri Lanka
2. Malaysia
3. London, Englad
4. Toronto, Canada (since four is the limit on this thing)

Four TV shows I love to watch:

1. Sex and the City (over and over and over again)
2. Project Runway (im such a fashion-whore)
3. Will & Grace ( old school all the way)
4. 2 way tie: Everybody hates Chris/ Family Guy

Four places I've been on vacation (in loosely translated terms):

1. India - nothing beats the heat and the raw bustle of life.
2. London, England (minus the perpetual visiting of relatives)
3. Montreal, QC (still love it regardless of how domestic it seems)
4. NYC, New York

Four of my favorite foods:

1. Roti and butter chicken
2. Sushi/sashimi/endamme
3. Cadbury cream eggs (what? they were a food group at one time)
4. All things sea foody - cuttlefish/crab/salmon/shark/lobster...yum.

Four places I'd rather be right now (also, preferrably alone or with Rama):

1. Ooty, Coonoor - life was easy piecy there
2. NY - overlooking central park
3. London - getting lost in bustling crowds
4. Colombo - sunshine, waves, white sand, a world of culture wafting through

Four sites I visit daily:

1. Google
2. Rogers
3. Blog/Floglines
4. Frugal Bride (okay almost every other day)


Four peeps I am tagging:

1. Pri-pri (she fascinates me)
2. Bears (cuz why not!)
3. Taby (cuz I'd love to know more)
4. Chet (i still don't know too much about him - but im sure he won't touch this with a 10 ft pole)

-::-

that's all folks.

Succinct

and just plain pithy.

sorry folks - this entry is sans pretty words, thought-provoking concepts or paradigm shifting ideologies...heck, it doesn't even contain the regular jana-ridden rant. This entry is merely a glorified thank you.

--:::--

A huge fan of grossly textured words, I am thrilled to drop some much needed literal screaming on this page. Rarely does it see oodles of joy and today, I want to congratulate it for keeping me sane.

You see, having to be accountable to myself in writing was most definitely a motivator in finding a job. Yup, notice how I slipped that in. I am (insert drumroll here) gainfully employed. Well, I will be gainfully employed as of Wednesday.

Maybe those pesky little disappointments that helped me ring the new year in were just humps of bad fortune I had to surf through – and while it was hard as hell, I am definitely grateful for having had the opportunity to nurture my elephantine skin.

So blog – I propose to continue using, abusing and leaving my mark upon you as often and as much as possible. Perhaps you will be that much needed companion as I crawl through planning weddings and planning forevers. Or perhaps that personal trainer who’ll undoubtedly kick my butt by wielding the threat of coming embarrassments.

Either way, you’ll be around and present which is yet another thing, I’m thankful for.

---:::---

Amen to the written word.

Prepare yourself..

for honey pots and saccharine words. Enchanted forests and friends who don't stray too far. Today, i'm feeling a little like a yellow cuddly trooper and a lot less like the underdog.

word to the wise:stop reading and turn away right now if you find Pooh and his friends nauseating - because today I'm basking in 'The wisdom of the Pooh'.

--:::--

Dedicated to my dear good friend Rama because nothing could be truer than this sentiment:

"If you live to be 100, I hope to live to be 100 minus 1 day so i never have to live without you". - Pooh (no duh)

--:::--

Dedicated to the me that hides behind the bravado:

"Remember: You're braver than you believe. Stronger than you seem. And Smarter than you think". - Christopher Robin-Winnie the Pooh

--::--
I suppose all will not be right in the world of dedications if this one didn't go out to my most favorite stranger (mikes):

Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind.
"Pooh," he whispered.
"Yes, Piglet?"
"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw, "I just wanted to be sure of you."”

--::--

And of course to my fam - this one is perrrfect because regardless of what Im doing, THIS is what i'm thinking:

“"I wonder what Piglet is doing," thought Pooh.
"I wish I were there to be doing it, too."
- Winnie the Pooh”

--::--

*sigh*

"Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.”
Pooh is right. For a bear with little brain he speaks big truths.

--::--
I too, as will all of you, get there some day :)

Crazy in love...

or just plain crazy?

somehow - today feels like the latter.

--:::---
A sweetly melodic voice, amidst the collective noise of the everyday, infiltrates my childhood memories. It haunts me. I was never one for fairytale romances or traditionalist affairs - and yet, before I waltzed into adulthood, I too was privy to the thoughts of lil’ girls as explained by big ones.

‘Sugar and spice and everything nice’ – that’s how it all began. Those were the magic words that flung open a Pandora’s box of estrogenized dreams.

Helllooo pink ribbons and frilly frocks.

It was something my grandma used to constantly say while chunky little me hid behind headboards, on balcony’s and voraciously devoured inappropriate reading material. I think I was 4 when i cracked open my first harlequin (my Lit professor of a grandmother was quite the fan of verbal naughtiness) and while I didn't quite grasp the literal translations...i got the gist.

There was something that these girls made of sugar and spice and everything nice looked forward to as they aged - gracefully or otherwise. An inexplicable feeling that involved another person – another person preferably of the opposite sex. Bedtime stories of white knights and happily ever afters ended as I trod into the world of adult romance. And she used to reassure me that one day - he would arrive – my version of a knight on a brazen horse- and I would be crazy in love.

Quite frankly, I thought her to be quite crazy.

Crazy in love? Or crazy because of love?
Gosh, what did that mean to a five year old?
What did that even mean to a 52 year old? A woman who had created her romantic fantasies in her cerebrum while living a poor imitation of them in her reality. I couldn't project at 5. I didn't realize that once upon a time ( a long long long time ago ) she too was much like me. Young, hungry and unaffected by this thing called love.

Ahh...to be but on that plump lap bouncing with joy to the cadence of sunsets in sri lanka. I would give an arm, a leg and possibly half a torso to relive those moments. Perfection. Ironic isn't it? I barely knew what perfection meant and I was living it. These days, these days are a far cry from those yesteryears - where life was simple, easy and pure as newborn pudgesicles.

--
why the reminiscing? today for the first time, i sat down all by my lonesome to embark on those first steps towards planning a multi-cultural, bi-religious, dual-ethnic wedding. A wedding that would have painted joy in autumn colours on my grandma's face.

I look like her you know. R looks like mom. And lil R looks like my dads mom. But only I - of all our cousins made of the same dirt - only I resemble her. Just me. One in a sea of 6, in an ocean of countless faces - i look in the mirror and i see her. Yet, I can't even remember what she'd want for my wedding. And this pains me to no end. Searching for something more profound, I'm trying to turn back the hands of my memories but sadly to no avail.

It feels incomplete. Today, I felt incomplete. I missed her. I missed her hand stroking my hair, urging me to knot the end of her dupatta, reminding me to make a wish as the sun set, reveling in my newest imaginary adventure and assuring me that one day - prince charming will arrive - even for rambunctious me.

Funny, guess the memo didn’t make it all the way to adulthood. Perhaps we should’ve made the same wish with an identical knot at every sun set. Because sure - Prince charming came. And left. Then his brother rolled by. Followed by cousins, distant relatives, friends, acquaintances and heck, even neighbors. And yet - all those experiments and not one of them were ‘for me’. I seem to have sampled everyone’s prince charming and still hadn’t stumbled on the one earmarked with a ‘j’.

Except for this one guy that I initially didn’t even fathom in that capacity.

I wish she had met Mikey. I wish she had gotten a chance to read him by first glance. To have looked him up and down and assessed his self worth and his intentions by a simple smile. I wish she could tell me what I should be looking out for, educating me as I embark on this process, and making sure that I don't discount any traditions - cultural or familial.

My folks are waaay too easy going. I know, I’m a nutcase for complaining. But honestly, they don't care about rusty ole traditions that creek in annoyance and disturb the peace. They're trying not to be intrusive. Trying to let me garnish this wedding with my own personality...and honestly, i hate it.

I wish they would storm in and tell me what needs to be done (fear. sloth. or both?)She would've. The one who introduced me to words, who taught me how to extend my own boundaries, to have opinions and voice them as such - she wouldn't have watched out for my contemporary visions or feelings. Straight or sugar coated : that was her motto – if it was the latter, you were shit out of luck because even her sugar came with a tinge of screw face inducing sour.

And today i needed that. I needed someone who had a vision in their minds eye - i needed her jasmine scented skin comfortably resting on mine.

--
this post probably makes no sense at all to the average person - my apologies. it was waiting to be purged - unedited, unrevised, uncrafted. While it shames the writer in me – this nervously twitching rhetoric calms my irrational fear of the unknown. A whole lot of question marks exist between these lines and breathe between the spaces of these words.

Periods don’t just end sentences they act as springboards for new ones. Sleep is a necessity and perhaps with it – tranquility will arrive. Neatly packaged and organized. I pray for it to take the place of illogically placed thoughts born of childhood logic - a puzzle that I’m certain to struggle with until it’s released into book form.

Such is the art of being…me.

--:::---

See, i told you. Not crazy in love my dearies - just plain ole "certifiably" crazy.

This year...

will be THE year of the jana - where resolutions are replaced by mini-activities that i plan to explore and hopefully accomplish in the next 356 days of this year.

You see, those who know me, know well that the mere word 'resolutions' triggers this rebel spirit into formulating secret ways of cheating, sabotaging or flat out breaking them. So this year, i refused to waste my energy on making said resolutions. They've been replaced by 'mini-activities to explore/accomplish' - a fancy to do list inspired by the infamous scorps1027.

--:::---

10 Mini-Activities for 0-6.

1. Write more.

2. Get fit - physically, emotionally, spiritually and mentally.

3. Be more mindful. (thath-thavam: to know thyself)

4. Talk less, listen more (same affliction)

5. To treat myself as I do the ones I love.

6. Tie a saree by myself (sans 3,000 safety pins)

7. Get involved in a not for profit activity - something communal.

8. Embrace every opportunity to spend time with the ones I love through this wedding planning process.

9. Reconnect with my girlfriends and apologize to them profusely for my self-afflicted absence

10. Quit pretending to have a thick skin and instead to actually grow one.

----:::----

Bring it on 06 - cuz you ain't seen nothin' yet :)
(she bravely said before she was devoured by the storm...)

Decluttering

well, more like a painful separation that i'm forcing myself through.

As a shopaholic fashionista (yup, self proclamation) I seem to have amassed quite the wardrobe. Enough to overflow out of the confines of my size 8 shoe box bedroom. It must be a cruel cruel joke played by the powers that be (and my insightful father) - because I (the girl with waaay too many clothes/jackets/wearable items) got the smallest room in the house sans a closet of any kind. So i've been McGuyvering it to make it all work.

Until recently, that is.

I realized that the more I hold onto - the less space I have to fill up. Which theoretically should make me happy considering my unemployed state of being. But no siree - not me. I've embarked on a journey that I should've aeons ago - one that involves decluttering my closet in the hopes of decluttering my life. Organization my ass! This is painful people.

Think of someone maliciously pulling out every single eyelash on your pretty little peepers and then letting it kiss a flame from a defunct zippo. Yup. That's the feeling. Painful.

Most of the things i hold on to and never ever wear come complete with cobwebs and memories. Ones that i can't bear to part with. Call it immaturity or gluttony but regardless of what you name the beast it comes down to the stripping of walls. Well built, well placed walls that protect the Jana fortress. Much like my suit of armour, my act of bravado - so is my closet. Filled to the brim with old memories allowing me to believe that my life is full and complete. With no extra place for newness.

Should work again - theoretically. It works with the emotional and pyschological hoarding. Not so much with the clothing. I still go out and blow my pittance of a savings account on clothing. An addiction. So today - I'm decluttering.

(Note to self: wear protective armour while partaking in this activity. I have a tendency of hurting people (including myself)who try to throw out my precious belongings) - brackets within brackets - I am a veritable scholar.

So long story short - here is a little something that was plastered on a once gorgeous black tee. It's from the early 90's - when i was pro-feminist to the point of puking, obviously had no style (this tee could be a dress), wore lots of lycra regardless of my chunky behind and figured it all made sense in my head. Boy was I wrong...but some of the RULES on my tee (think it was a souvenir from our first trip to Niagara Falls - don't judge people - even diva's were fobs at one point)still ring true.

--
Here they are:

The Rules
1. The female always makes the rules
2. No male can possibly know the rules
3. If the female suspects the male knows all the rules, she must immediately change some of the rules
4. The female is never wrong
5. The female can change her mind at any given point of time
6. The female has every right to be angry or upset at any time
7. The male must remain calm at ALL times, unless the female wants him to be angry, or upset
8. The female must under no circumstances let the male know whether or not she wants him to be angry, or upset.
9. If the female has PMS,all rules are null and void
10. The male cannot diagnose PMS.

--

Sad isn't it? Yet, still funny. Got a little chuckle out of me.

But adios long-black- overly-stretched-out tee, you've been good to me. Through years of all nighters, ugly bouts of "I'm pmsing buzz off", prolonged sad sessions and heart breaks. You will be remembered fondly but all good things must come to an end at some point.

And this would be THAT point for you.

Urgh...back to work jana. Chop Chop! After all decluttering is a humane activity. It lets your once useful recently defunct clothing rest in peace. And simultaneously welcomes your brand spanking new items into a spacious home.

I wonder if this would count as my good deed for the day...

Dolly's heaven bound

A condensed version of the weekend - my attempt at chronicling an all around feel good vacay!

Friday's Festivities

Friday night was tremendously entertaining - I attended a Taize prayer session at Aunty M's local church. Now now, hold your horses there girlies - Nope, i'm still not switching religious teams but there's nothing wrong with a little extra curricular flirtation. It was calm, peaceful and soothing. An hour of latin chants, candle lighting and no touching of strangers (that's the one thing that irks me about Jesus' clan - they actively reach out and shake each other's hands in the hopes of passing on peace). All in all it was lovely. Dim lights, a near empty chapel, a gorgeously understated hour of spiritual R&R. I relaxed and let the sonorous chants wash my woes away.

We closed up friday night with a viewing of North Country (definitely an Oscar contender) that was both inspiring and angering. Women take too much crap and it's about time some of us stood up and claimed a little bit of dignity back from them XY chromosomed creeps. Although, as the words leave my fingertips I'm quick to realize that this world is also filled with vicious women who have contributed more than their fair share to all sorts of discriminatory practices. Perhaps next time around, I'm going to ask to come back as water - real yet transcending this reality. A late night chow down at Tremendous more than filled the void that the ridiculously good popcorn didn't - and with that Aunty M chased me out of her peripheral vision and welcomed some much needed shut eye.

Saturday Stories

*** i think i waited too long to complete this entry because I can't for the life of me recall what happened during the rest of this weekend. However, stay tuned folks - lots has happened and with the new year you're bound to find a whole slew of new and hopefully entertaining posts. Until then - godbless***

P.S. I got me a fotolog: www.fotolog.com/soulsysta - niiiiice.

Creme de la creme

today an oxymoron swaddled me like new borns are - part suffocation, part comfort -
part joy, part sorrow as i realized the one truity in my existence:

while i know many - i only love a few.

and whilst one might believe that with age you gather the bag of tricks that is necessary to form a larger (and cohesive) group of buddies - i disagree because if i didn't that would mean that i've failed. And THAT my dear friends would be a damn shame.

however, the few that are loved and adored and revered in my circle will always be accepted - flaws, ticks, quirks and all.
i know, i am quite giving innit?

what brought this suffocating realization on?
blogs.

i stumbled upon a group of blogs - strong, eloquent south asian women across the USofA - who have fallen in the throes of friendship with each other - going as far as travelling thousands of kms to grab a weekend bite and make a few cherishable memories. awww right?

well guess what - i don't have that.

a part of me, the imp that lives within, wishes i did.
a group of people to whom appearances don't matter - to whom words, experiences, revelations set the tone, demeanor and interactions that ensue. a group of people not bonded by the activities they partake in but in the collective emotional growth and failures that they experience.

huh.

reeks a lot like the relationship i have with the inner circle.
and perhaps that's my larger woe - i'm too afriad to realize that i've already got everything that i'll ever need to make this life memorable.

this weekend - i promise to conquer that beast of emotional dissonance.

and if that fails, heck - at least i'll meringue my ass out of this insiduous funk.