Tuesday, March 13, 2018

All this time spent trying to be different. A quick look through the flat I have lived in over a year will reveal almost everything about me - and the extraordinarily ordinary journey in which I become myself.

I fear that the only things I know about myself for sure, are what I inherited from my family. My personality no longer describing me, but describing little bits of others too. Just ask that drawer I throw everything in just so the outside can be clean.

I see in myself as a glass cupboard decorated with small, cheap and beautiful things. Spaced out nicely, trying to cover up as much of empty space as possible, making the nothingness seem less obvious. A bit of coral from a far away beach, ocean-beaten smooth pebbles, a ceramic candle holder which was too nice to use. A nice set of mugs that were bought for company but never used because company was never considered nice enough.

I didn't buy any furniture, no big commitments except my children who are my life; I filled my life with small scraps of memories. Airplane tickets, toll receipts, concert tickets, guitar picks. Who needs the useful stuff when you can have old airplane tickets?

Monday, April 10, 2017

Thank you for coming back home

Playing catch up is almost over and I am days away from finishing reconstructing the bubble that surrounds me in Bangalore. Very few things are necessary but all of those things are important: my cats with me, my large mattress (still one of the most thoughtful gifts ever), my chaa, my smokes, my daylight-filled living room.
Tesla went missing a week ago; vanished without a trace and no matter how much they searched for him, he just wasn't ready to hear us. I found myself on a surreal flight back to Calcutta during which the sunset was so orange that I looked back a few times as I left it behind and made my way eastward. I have never lost a cat to any place, just to circumstances. I knew I wasn't doing it right, I know I didn't do enough.

One week, hours of searching, my first time making a 'Missing' poster, the constant chanting I kept up in my heart that he will return and he will forgive me for leaving him here -  and he returned at 5 am today. Dirtier, unharmed and looking like he had left to make a point.

Point has been made and mommy loves you.

Wednesday, December 07, 2016

What a painfully shitty year. Thank you Life, for giving me more reasons to hate you and hate myself. It's funny how hard the universe conspires sometimes, to make sure that you can be the only one to get yourself out of your existential funk.

I will come back, Blog. And I will stop writing these two-bit, inconsequential consolatory things. 

Sunday, October 23, 2016

Love for old things.

I found a sad little shelf in my balcony, it was rotting away for years. I scrubbed off at least 30 years of grime off it and then did this. I got so excited doing it, I got a high. A high that lasted quite a while, feeling nice and jumpy in my tummy. I have always, always, ALWAYS wanted to refurbish old furniture. Good to know it only took me twenty eight years to get a move on. 

Monday, August 01, 2016

After 5 years I am back home on the back of something which is probably a terrible decision on my part. The shifting, the packing, dragging stagnating things from all corners of my flat was just proof of how I thought I had so little but everything weighed way, way more than I anticipated.

My house, now large and devoid of too many living things is full to the brim with the discarded remnants of everybody who has ever lived here. Clothes that won't fit us, books we will no longer read, dust-coated and rusted bits and pieces of junk which probably were really important parts of whatever they used to be. Energy no longer flows, but meets obstacles everywhere. My childhood home has become a den full of dust and dreams that never left the windowsills. 

Wednesday, March 30, 2016

I have never had this much trouble with one song. Not even the whole song, just one part of it. I might have the song memorized, but I still can't do that one part correct. Is this why there are barely any covers for this song? Probably. It is difficult to sing.
The show is today, and I am in no way prepared. I don't know what I'll do once I'm on stage, I don't know how I'll do this song. Hell,I don't even know what I'm going to wear, although that is the least of my problems. I could look like a million bucks (haha. only in a manner of speaking) but I'd still sound like shit.
This could only be the product of stupidity.
My mother the artist:
She said she didn't know what she was doing, but I was on her mind.

Thursday, January 28, 2016

Feel good, but only in moderation. Give yourself and ask for others in little bits. Who wants all of you? Do you really want everything about someone? Everybody would love to be wanted like that, but now you know - it happens only in moderation.