The weekend was supposed to be a spiritual retreat. A trip to a very famous temple.
What it turned out was the biggest let-down I have known. Made me question the extent and rationale of devotion. It was a circus out there, and it would probably be the last place where I’ll find Him. I still have my faith intact, and notwithstanding those agonizing hours of waiting in a line and then in prison-like cells, I still pray. Now I pray in quiet, sometimes on my bed, sometimes at work, sometimes on the go, but I pray when I need his strength, and I pray without any shenanigans or without any of the blind rituals. I just pray, and I know He listens.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Thursday, April 08, 2010
Lets discuss ...
It could be a boring old topic. It could be like hearing an old tape recorder that you may have heard a hundred times before. It could sound like the ranting of an insecure girl. It could make you resist me and detest me. It could spoil your perfectly bright and happy mood. It could feel like an alien's blabbering. It could make you wonder. It could feel harsh and caustic. It could feel unapologetic. It could make you feel helpless. It could make me feel helpless. Lets do it anyway. Lets discuss Me.
Monday, November 16, 2009
The Ride
At first it was scary. Like having a big bazooka in your hand and knowing that one mistake would be one too many. But I had come back to India with a wishlist and this featured at the very top, and I wasnt about to give-up so easily. I was a slow learner. I would return back home each time moist and dizzy - not so much from the heat but from the stress.
Then it got better. Slowly, silently, calm returned. The big machine in my hands felt not so intimidating any more. I loved the freedom it gave me. I loved the possibilities and the opportunities it presented. More than anything else, I felt the triumph of having broken down a barrier - a barrier that had existed in my mind as well those of others. The barrier that no other girl in my family had dared to cross. And I loved proving a lot of people very very wrong about me.
Now, as I slide into my car behind the wheels, I feel dizzy again - not the stress this time but the light-headedness of joy and freedom and of being in control. Its a symbolic victory for me and dont I know it! The engine revvs up and roars into life, and so does my spirit. See ya after the ride!
Then it got better. Slowly, silently, calm returned. The big machine in my hands felt not so intimidating any more. I loved the freedom it gave me. I loved the possibilities and the opportunities it presented. More than anything else, I felt the triumph of having broken down a barrier - a barrier that had existed in my mind as well those of others. The barrier that no other girl in my family had dared to cross. And I loved proving a lot of people very very wrong about me.
Now, as I slide into my car behind the wheels, I feel dizzy again - not the stress this time but the light-headedness of joy and freedom and of being in control. Its a symbolic victory for me and dont I know it! The engine revvs up and roars into life, and so does my spirit. See ya after the ride!
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Selective Amnesia
If only there was such a thing, an automatic process that would let me forget everything I wanted to, and only retain the precious little that make me smile.
If only there was a switch somewhere, like on a computer, where we could delete the unwanted, erase it forever from the memory like it was never meant to be.
If only life had a preview option.
If only there was a switch somewhere, like on a computer, where we could delete the unwanted, erase it forever from the memory like it was never meant to be.
If only life had a preview option.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
So Long, and Thanks for all the fish!
A speech for Toastmasters:
Sometime ago, I read a book by Douglas Adams called the Hitchhikers’s Guide to the galaxy. The book starts with some alien creatures on the verge of demolishing Earth!
And for a moment, I felt something happen in the pit of my stomach, something outrageous, even though it was a fictional story. I was a little uneasy because they were demolishing our planet, which in galactic proportions is my home! After all, the home and the heart are supposed to reside in the same place! I wondered if this was a common sentiment, or was it just me?
Looking more closely, and in more real-life terms, things didn’t seem very different. I have been to many beautiful places, I’ve met many wonderful people, but at the end of the day, I am tired. I want to go home.
I was browsing through the internet once, and I discovered that in some places like the US, there are actually traditions associated with homecoming. People, towns, high schools and colleges come together, usually in late September or early October, to welcome back former residents and alumni. They are built around a central event, such as a banquet and, very often, a game of American football, or, basketball, or ice hockey. Homecomings were occasions to revive old and fond memories, to put things in a different perspective and to provide a bridge to the future.
When I was little kid, my homecoming would be different. I would go to school in the morning, and go to play in the evenings with my friends. At the end of the day I would be tired and longing to come back to my parents, I would be very hungry and I would want food cooked at home.
I would sometimes go visit some relatives or my grandparents, and spend a few days, or weeks with them. It would be very comfortable, I would be pampered and treated like royalty. But it would never feel home. It was not my home.
When I grew up a bit, I went to a college in another city, and I’m talking about a huge country like India, where unlike NL distances could be quite far. Fortunately this was quite close – only 8 hours by train. I was quite excited to go as this was the first time I would be on my own. I would have freedom to live the way I wanted to. I could spend more time with friends, stay out late with friends, and take my own decisions. I stayed in a hostel- and I visited home during all the breaks and major holidays. But despite all the freedom, I would get all excited whenever a break came up. And when they ended, I felt sad every time I left home. On retrospection, it seemed like Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to. The home is the bottom line of life, the anvil upon which attitudes and convictions are hammered out. It is the single most influential force in our earthly existence. It is at home, among family members that we come to terms with circumstances. It is here life makes up its mind.
Now I have a job and I am working in a different country, a different continent. Things have changed, but have they? My assignment in Netherlands is about to end in a few weeks. And I am already dreaming about all the things I would do when I get back home, my mind is already drawing up plans of friends to meet, of places to visit, of things to do, of food to eat, of movies to see, of things to buy! This in no way means that I haven’t enjoyed my stay here – I have, immensely. I’ve seen so many amazingly beautiful places, I’ve seen different cultures and met some very smart people. But its time to go home!
Thank you all for making my stay even more memorable. As they said in the Hitchikers guide, So Long, and thanks for all the fish!
Sometime ago, I read a book by Douglas Adams called the Hitchhikers’s Guide to the galaxy. The book starts with some alien creatures on the verge of demolishing Earth!
And for a moment, I felt something happen in the pit of my stomach, something outrageous, even though it was a fictional story. I was a little uneasy because they were demolishing our planet, which in galactic proportions is my home! After all, the home and the heart are supposed to reside in the same place! I wondered if this was a common sentiment, or was it just me?
Looking more closely, and in more real-life terms, things didn’t seem very different. I have been to many beautiful places, I’ve met many wonderful people, but at the end of the day, I am tired. I want to go home.
I was browsing through the internet once, and I discovered that in some places like the US, there are actually traditions associated with homecoming. People, towns, high schools and colleges come together, usually in late September or early October, to welcome back former residents and alumni. They are built around a central event, such as a banquet and, very often, a game of American football, or, basketball, or ice hockey. Homecomings were occasions to revive old and fond memories, to put things in a different perspective and to provide a bridge to the future.
When I was little kid, my homecoming would be different. I would go to school in the morning, and go to play in the evenings with my friends. At the end of the day I would be tired and longing to come back to my parents, I would be very hungry and I would want food cooked at home.
I would sometimes go visit some relatives or my grandparents, and spend a few days, or weeks with them. It would be very comfortable, I would be pampered and treated like royalty. But it would never feel home. It was not my home.
When I grew up a bit, I went to a college in another city, and I’m talking about a huge country like India, where unlike NL distances could be quite far. Fortunately this was quite close – only 8 hours by train. I was quite excited to go as this was the first time I would be on my own. I would have freedom to live the way I wanted to. I could spend more time with friends, stay out late with friends, and take my own decisions. I stayed in a hostel- and I visited home during all the breaks and major holidays. But despite all the freedom, I would get all excited whenever a break came up. And when they ended, I felt sad every time I left home. On retrospection, it seemed like Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to. The home is the bottom line of life, the anvil upon which attitudes and convictions are hammered out. It is the single most influential force in our earthly existence. It is at home, among family members that we come to terms with circumstances. It is here life makes up its mind.
Now I have a job and I am working in a different country, a different continent. Things have changed, but have they? My assignment in Netherlands is about to end in a few weeks. And I am already dreaming about all the things I would do when I get back home, my mind is already drawing up plans of friends to meet, of places to visit, of things to do, of food to eat, of movies to see, of things to buy! This in no way means that I haven’t enjoyed my stay here – I have, immensely. I’ve seen so many amazingly beautiful places, I’ve seen different cultures and met some very smart people. But its time to go home!
Thank you all for making my stay even more memorable. As they said in the Hitchikers guide, So Long, and thanks for all the fish!
Monday, July 07, 2008
Shallow Hal
I like the Modern.
I like tall skysrapers, the glow of streetlights and wide roads.
I like a city buzzing with shopping streets and restaurants.
I like trendy clothes, good shoes and the fashion magazines.
I like well groomed people, who dress up well and make themselves look good.
I like having food in an expensive restaurant with the waitors treating you like royalty.
I like living in a house which is big, spacious and has big windows.
I like indulging myself...
...Even if that makes me sound materialistic and shallow.
I like tall skysrapers, the glow of streetlights and wide roads.
I like a city buzzing with shopping streets and restaurants.
I like trendy clothes, good shoes and the fashion magazines.
I like well groomed people, who dress up well and make themselves look good.
I like having food in an expensive restaurant with the waitors treating you like royalty.
I like living in a house which is big, spacious and has big windows.
I like indulging myself...
...Even if that makes me sound materialistic and shallow.
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