age, travel, earphones

The driver who drove me to the bus station from the hotel was very chatty. Among other things, he asked me how old I was. He couldn't believe I was 30. He kept repeating, "You are 30! Are you sure? Wow." Then he said I looked very young, and nothing like what a 30 year should look like. I wonder how a 30 year old "should" look like. Finally he asked me the dreaded question, "How old do you think I am?" I am really bad at this game. I said, "I don't know, I am really bad at guessing ages. Maybe late 30s?" And he said, "I am 63." So, yes, I should never play this game. Though I should have been tipped off because earlier he mentioned he had a double bypass surgery. Late 30 year olds don't usually have double bypass surgeries. Anyway, when I was about to leave his cab, he said "and you smell really good too." I did not think under my many layers of clothing, my perfume still made way to the outside world. At the bus station, I waited for 45 minutes. It was frigid. The convention center doors were closed. Right after me in the line was an Indian guy, who came to Pittsburgh to interview for his medical residency. He is a doctor. We talked for a while. He flirted in a ridiculous sexist way quoting from antiquated Bollywood movies. I wanted to get away, but I thought that will be rude. So, when another Indian guy who was also at his interview joined him, I felt relieved to go back to my earphones. 

Brahma's Memory

Memory god vigorously nodded his head. Brahma[1] was bemusedly telling Memory that he is quite exhausted, the years have advanced, he is now inflicted with osteoporosis attacking his joints, especially his knees what with sitting in this ill-chosen yoga posture, what was it called again? Memory instantly answered, "ah the padma-asana (lotus-posture) grandfather!" Yes indeed, he should have guessed as much given that the tip of some of the pesky lotus petals he is sitting on still tickle him in some of his more intimate areas. To refrain from inadvertently giggling, he maintains his severe countenance. And his teeth, his once beautifully aligned teeth just like those little white houses of Wisteria Lane, those perfect teeth all now replaced by exorbitant, over-enameled, under-adherent denture. And for heaven's sake! One day his fake teeth involuntarily chattered, and detached from his gums and fell into his intricate, ever sprouting, lotus petalled seat at such an opportune moment, right when he was about to pronounce a well-chosen curse on one good-for-nothing heaven-inmate whom he wanted to relocate back to the pangs of earth. These mishaps shall not happen again, he vows. He is ready to take a hiatus, and consults with Memory if it will be too shaming if he should just rerun the yugas[2] again? "So you mean, after the Kali yuga, we'd revert back to the Satya, followed by Treta, Dwarpa, etc?" Brahma confirmed his idea and then worriedly asked Memory if it wouldn't be too much of a leap... from cruel demons of Kali yuga to take a giant leap to being angelic beings of Satya. Can the humans adjust? Memory, to Brahma's astonishment, nonchalantly told him that nobody would remember. Furious, Brahma admonished how lazy Memory is that people should forget these scores of years that Brahma so painstakingly created. Brahma demanded Memory to explain his behavior, because after all it is his responsibility, the upkeep and maintenance of humans’ memory! And then Memory explained to Brahma how memory works. "Ah grandfather, all will be remembered, and yet not remembered, like one trapped in a labyrinth of deja vu. The present sense impressions will reconnect humans to their former experiences, they will often reconstruct memories, and sometimes they will fiercely hold onto a moment so it wouldn't dilute to memories at all, and sometimes they will unthread the fiber of a particular moment and weave and unweave endlessly until its identity is completely distorted, and even further, some will quest at a lifelong adventure to discover the true nature of memory." Brahma wasn't too convinced of Memory's elaboration; the boy is just too lazy he decided. He took a long yawn. “In any event, wake me up in some hours, Memory, don't you dare leave me in some labyrinth or else once I am up I'll wake Shiva[3] up.” And with a threatening smirk Brahma added, “And wouldn't you much rather have me awake than him!” 

---

[1] Brahma is the Hindu god of creation. He is depicted with a white beard, sitting in the yoga posture called the lotus-posture (padmasana), and he sits on lotus.

[2] Yuga in Hinduism is an epoch or era in a four-age cycle. Each yuga lasts for thousands of years. They are Satya yuga, Treta yuga, Dwarpa yuga, and Kali yuga. Our present yuga is the Kali yuga that started at the end of the great epic war of Mahabharata around 3102 BCE.

[3] Shiva is the Hindu god of destruction. He is often depicted in deep meditation with his eyes closed.

theorizing unfairness

[trite and redundant alert! deconstructing Karma]: feeling sorry for yourself can of course get cathartic and for some, addictive. things seem to happen in an unfair and undeserved randomness! hence, one may completely miss the meandering lessons on Karma. those very people you hurt, harmed or ambushed under open skies or behind backs (which btw u will dutifully deny!) may not avenge. but you will be paid back in some form by someone else in some other time. of course then u will be bemused at the audacity of such n such person failing u, to whom u have been nothing but nice! u will then surmise (over hard liquor i hope) on how unfair life is! now if only life happened in perfect reciprocity, everything would just make sense! caution your criticisms. because in the big picture, and beyond our perhaps simplistic understanding of quid pro quo, life often actually can get very fair.

Sachin retires

as an adult my "prayers" comprised of asking god to take care of Himself. seems like a logical thing to ask, if He is to take care for the rest of us! besides, being God must be a lonely affair. we ought to ask Him from time to time on how He is doing, before He should plummet into vortex of depression, noticing what a selfish sack of whiners we are! very "religiously" thus, i ask Him to stay well, and that's all i ask of Him. i am told, however, this was not the case, always. there used to be a time when i made direct, nothing-left-to-interpretation kinda prayers, demanding that Sachin Tendulkar make a century on that day. of course i followed it up with other things in my power to improve Sachin's chances. for example, our seating arrangements! it was the single most deciding factor conducive to Sachin's performance! we committed ourselves to sitting at the same spot- the chair/sofa/floor/local-shop/window-sill as the last time when Sachin played well. to make a long story short, superstitions played out in myriad ways. howsoever difficult the bodily contorting might be, to replicate the position we were in which resulted in Sachin's last 6 or 4 runs, we braved it!
it had been quite an ulcer-inducing experience watching him play over the last 24 years. every ball he hit presented with a very real possibility that the world would end had he been out. my brother would tease me on how completely uninterested in the game i am and only stayed around up until Sachin played. i remember my father, people in the bazaar, angry pedestrians, complaining about how India was completely useless and helpless after Sachin got out, that how, acutely analogical it was that Sachin was the bicycle on which a series of bicycles leaned on and which if you removed, the rest would fall. i remember secretly collecting posters and newspaper clippings and magazines on Sachin, and hiding them under my bed, displaying which, was strictly prohibited in the house. but Sachin seemed like a man worth the adoration and loyalty. speaking of which, i was smacked across the face by my father in a very dramatic hat-trick (because of course, one slap doesn't quite make the point, and two seems incomplete, so three it is!) when i ended up, accidentally, ahem, extending my dad the same opinion that he had of me when he called me "a donkey" (direct translation from Bengali) for liking Sachin over Sourav. but enduring a few smacks for Sachin seemed okay. (not that i dared to show THAT particular kind of loyalty for Sachin before the Patriarch ever again)! another, rather amusing anecdote comes to mind when in a shameless but desperate appeal i prayed to Mother Teresa: "i will donate to you Rs. 10,000 when i grow up if you let Sachin stay." i am sure there were other cosmic reasons than this economic incentive made to Mother Teresa, but he did in fact survive at the crease. and so I followed up on my promise when i did "grow up."
in a very intimate, intrinsic, familial way, the name Sachin Tendulkar had become synonymous for many things: Indian cricket, "adda" after lunch, vehement fights between bengalis on who is better- Sachin or Sourav, empty streets on a one-day match, the batsman every boy in the block emulated, Eden Gardens' collective madness and stunned silence at his entry and departure from the field. a strange lonesome, thus, spreads now to think that we will never again see him at the crease. He was like a rockstar: perhaps, the last of its kind to show the world on how to be a "rockstar" sans scandal, sans rudeness, but with unfailing politeness, dedication, endurance, and humility. you inspired way more than just cricket.
thank you for the entertainment. 

subway ride on a hot day

i understand that people are quite literally hot headed in this weather. and it doesn't help when the train is 30 mins late, and a HUGE impatient, office crowd has consistently formed by now to board the next subway. and of course everybody is late. so when the train finally comes, i enter without getting stampeded. now, normally i avoid sitting close to anybody because like any other need-my-own-space healthy-phobia driven American populace, i have acclimated to this way of life. very much unlike the Calcutta subway riders where people could kill each other for a seat! my intention of taking the seat next to this woman in this two seater was purely to make room for another person to stand. and there was no amount of bodily attachment at the arms or wherever! we were both not quite all that fat. but my neighbor took it upon herself to educate me on mannerisms, "you know you should have at least had the manners to say excuse me can I take the seat"! so in response i had to say, "i'm sorry i did not realize you could be that selfish and unaccommodating. i was making room for someone to stand because it's so crowded." of course she decided that i was a "bitch." so i rose to the occasion of pointing her the anomaly in her observation, "clearly you are. you are the one barking for no reason." the logic of which, she did not appreciate. nice start to the day, i say! clearly however, we have developed a curious sense of personal space.

social networks

so i don't usually socialize at the bars with the law school colleagues mainly because i find myself neither here nor there; one group is the singles group ready to soak up their law school stress with alcohol and amore, and the other group is the married persons/couples --they are there with their partner, possibly the only time in the week when they are hanging out with each other or they are together with other couples. so when people ask me if i made "many" friends in Indiana, i say some yes, but not many. in response they gasp and retort "but you used to be so good at it!" as if something rather terrible transpired. which is rather amusing, and besides there is plenty of loop holes in that thesis anyway. but here's why: one of the foundations of good, sound friendship is to witness each other making raving total mistakes after gulping down ounces of alcohol, and doing the most inappropriate of things that should not be remembered, and pulling back your hair while you throw up and call yourself a fool, and then taking you home. thus, keeping each other's embarrassing, black-eyed secrets cements lasting friendship. since bars near college campuses are the places to be where you can depend on such crucial social developments, indeed i have missed out on opportunities. but hey! one of these days i might find myself my niche-- unavailable single, who mentally mingles, and takes pictures of all the giant torts taking place all around ;) ah! my evil mind, you warm my heart!


disclaimer: lot of what is written is for purposes of entertainment. and not to be misunderstood as defamation or libel on any people or groups of people. (damn! i'm getting good at this :P )

besides the point

I seem to recall every now and then these days what J told me some years back, when we talked for the last time (for different reasons)... he had said what I consider today as the most poignant and astute observation, "no one is put out there to love you." While that statement couldn't be any truer in it's generic sense, it also is just as true in it's specificity...

I had sometimes wished that one day in this long stretch of life, these long hours, long days, long months, and long years, there will be at least one day when I'd be in that sort of sunset when the sky is just as much resplendent as the blazing sun, sharing an equal embrace of warmth. I guess what I am trying to say is that just for one day I wished I had been in a perfect love-equilibrium. 

once more unto the breach

disclaimer for my detractors: this is gonna be a long, sappy one. don't read it if you sniff unchartered affectations.

going thru internal debates provoked by personal revelations, to take a logical, well-reasoned decision which will generally affect an emotional standing, many thots come to mind at this juncture. my dada's encouragement to inspire me towards the contribution of a greater good, how he always says "you are acquiring skills to be useful in society, do and be there where you will be most productive for others," both my dads' (the in-law and the out-law) exemplary conduct thruout their lives in the service of others, and education in general which has  inculcated in me a strong realization that much is beyond the self; and thinking about my family and myself, in terms of being happy and conventional and hence accepted, is essentially selfishness. I have always managed to aim for lofty ideals, even at the danger of being patented as "idealistic" (i HATE that term), because I have always deeply felt that I need to do everything that I am inspired to do. My one chance to life. Yes, logic dictates that when such is the case one should discipline emotional sensations strictly at the precision of mathematical detachment, and not commit to long relationships.  I made decisions that were made in the reassurance of others, at least that's what I was made to understand at the time. And then life happened, and resounding accusations that "you made a bad decision" and that I should not have nuptialized seemed to be a general point of consensus leading to bonding among many bystanders.  But I never did keep my aspirations a secret! where was the advise when I needed? I was then, so young and so untainted.

It's ironical tho that whereas I have practiced encouragement unto others for whatever anybody wanted to do in their life, I am however greeted with obstructions and discouragement by people perhaps I most needed to acquiesce with me. and their continued resignation to regret, hurts. let me, at least,  leave the room, will you? it was perhaps in the hope of being expunged of people's preconceived conception of the type they thot that I belonged to, that I have painstakingly, and sometimes breathlessly, aimed to do everything single-handedly. I wanted to reply in action that no, I can take care of everything, "see you were wrong... and are you assured, now?" but that was not to be. of course this led to many physical debilitations and a general medicinal approach to life, convened. there were also the mandatory threats and declaration of expulsion, the dramatics and histrionics that go with it, the continued reassessment and readjustment of my designation and my gradual making peace with it, all this. while sometimes it was the people, sometimes it was the untimely vicissitudes of fate that brought new challenges to test the strengths. each time i wanted to display greatness (yes i have this obnoxious detestation towards the ordinary or the mediocre- which is not recommendable), undermining myself; not to take myself seriously, seemed the right thing to do. "because I understand the parameters of the universe," i would tell myself in these deliberations, "i am to be slighted." after a while, that of course becomes a trend; and for everybody else too.

it might have worked had there been between the two essential people in this otherwise large familial congregation of peoples, the stalwarts that aid a successful consummation. but life comes in many shades of gray, and I, I took the one less towards the white.

new york state of mind

streets of new york: so I am walking down the street super fast, drinking coffee at the same time, also super fast, when I get elbowed by this person really hard. so my immediate Pavlovian response to him is "o i'm so sorry" (being the clumsy walker that i am and being aware of that). but then I realize this time it's not my fault, so I say to him "actually you should be sorry." he looks at me like i am a raving total lunatic and walks away just the way he was.
my epiphany however is this: both of us embodied traits, albeit different, of a typical new yorker :D

yeah new yorkers are rude but on the other hand generally pretty awesome. so am not complaining ;) just making observations of roads with all its makings, the human drama being one-- similar yet different in different cities even if perhaps the same people were to inhabit them

just so you know

there are no dreams and no fantasies; just the stark reality and the unbridled cruelty of an evolutionarily selfish, survival-of the-fittest kind of loveless world. yes, we might as well teach this to our children from an early age, before they learn it thru the hard way :D

the classics

Had the most inspiring and uplifting experience listening to Beethoven's symphony no. 4 in B flat major, live in concert by the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony. At the interval an acute sense of the self engulfed as I sat alone watching the crowd break into their private groups in animated expressions. But post interval, the rendition of Mahler's Symphony no. 1 in D major, in the midst of streaming twilight through the tall glasses of the beautiful church , dissipated any shred of lonesome. In isolation to be moved, thus.

office work

so at office I am usually a nomadic member, moving from this desk to that desk without a seat of my own, hoping someone will be absent at work whose seat I can oust for a day ...all this becoz they know I am not here for the long-haul and shall be gone once law school starts in a few months. today however, I was offered a whole big ROOM!! just to myself. so I am in this gigantic room all by myself, feeling a little overwhelmed and embarrassed considering that my boss is outside sharing his cubicle with two other people!! in a few hours, suddenly, I felt someone patting my head. half-looking I ask "do you need the room?" he answers, "no dear, you sit here" and leaves. within the next 15 seconds, my boss rushes in and says, "Tina you have to vacate the room immediately, the New York City governor is here, this is his room." !! and then I realize, it is David Patterson who patted my head, whom I nonchalantly offered my room, which as it turned out is HIS room! my foot is permanently in my mouth now :-/

fantasies

maybe it's the mind-numbingly monotonous work that i am currently attending to at the job (which tho i'm promised will get less boring soon) and the fact that my boss' head pops up from the cubicle right in front of me asking me every half an hour "so Tina are we ready to shoot ourselves for the monotony, yet?" that I sublimate for the lack of creativity by writing blog entries in my head, which btw turn out incredibly funny (again, in my head) :D Also I start fantasizing about writing and drawing comic strips at the New Yorker *sigh*

the women Part II

a woman must be as elusive, vague and fleeting as she possibly can. she must either strive to be a femme fatale or a confirmed slut. otherwise there is no point ;-P :-D

the women

for a woman it is of utmost importance to have a supportive family who makes things easy for her-- otherwise there is a real danger of her dreams and hopes getting dashed, and her talents thoroughly unrealized. and the possibility of her doing something beyond the ordinary in life is somehow somewhere lost one day...

the thing is both can be done with equal aplomb, family and career, if you have a supportive surrounding. if you don't then it's always a struggle. i feel sorry that even though society has evolved so much through time, and so many women have fought so hard to bring about women's "emancipation" so to say, yet people can get very unforgiving if a woman does not succumb to her traditional roles. for a man, he must "necessarily" be ambitious. i wonder why this is not just as taken for granted for a woman. if a woman wants to make it big in life, or have non-conforming priorities, she is labeled as "careeristic" or "ambitious." As if she is NOT the "usual" type. of course this is just my humble observation. also, i am not getting into the debate of whether it is wrong or right how society manages expectations in a gender-specific way, but I firmly believe in the importance of a supportive family. 

deception vs survival

"What happens if the memories you had repressed, those that you shan't recover from, those that had become fatal to your existence, those repressed memories of monstrous days suddenly resurface? You have been able to fool a lot of people, and most yourself. You didn't want others to know about the dirty laundries, and hence you made laundry look like fun, joyous and happy! But if finally you confront your true emotions it might break you, while others still may hold you in disbelief. You'd be a fool again. Yes, repression is survival to you, but deception to others."

Dear God,

It seems hardly appropriate to say "I have butterflies in my stomach." It's more like "I have dinosaurs in my stomach"- the really angry, shrieking ones at that. Tomorrow is LSAT- my moment of truth. But then you already knew that. In the last few years hardly anything has gone my way, and it's no compulsion on you God that you ought to make compensations tomorrow for things having not gone according to my dreams and hopes for so long... No no, no such pressure, please don't get me wrong. It's just that I would like to be able to make some people happy tomorrow. I know they have waited to see me happy, I mean really happy, for a long time now. I just want to be able to do that. That's all.

After tomorrow, I'd again go back to not nagging you... at least not in the next 3 years that is not until my bar exam... (but you are probably grinning at yourself as you read this and thinking 'alas if only...').
Anyway, I hope you will not stand me up tomorrow. cya then.

P.S Please look out for my friend Naheed as well. She'd be at the test center right across the street. So no hassles for you with commuting. And if you find yourself lost, use GPS.

endgame

After a point she finds a place to salvage the soul, elevating the mind to a space where only the spiritual, the intellectual or the artistic reside- where no one can find, cannot touch, cannot hurt… and while she plays the perfect hostess to the meaningless meaningfuls of her life every day, she’s secretly plotting her death all the time. Perhaps someday when something insignificant should occur, something that didn’t seem to matter at all, she would decide to leave the whistling kettle, unattended…

For she has long hoped that in death, she will find the sweet dignity of life.

first Indian lesbian

so after taking a rather dismal Diagnostic LSAT test, I was about to get the hell out of the test room when I spotted another disgruntled face just like mine, (I am so familiar with that expression by now seeing that that is my most popular expression these days), I approached her with empathy, "yeah I didn't do as well either." she insisted we get out of the room even faster. I complied. so while we got out of the room, and out of the building, and back on the streets (in the non-prostitute sense of course), we planned to sit and talk about the LSAT, and Robin Singh, and the test we just took. And while we had not yet reached our destination, we exchanged more intimate details than what is strictly necessary. She asked me during what context I forget, "so who pays your rent?" And while I paid the rent (technically maintenance we call it) for only those 5 months when I had a job, but it would be very wrong to claim that as a general scheme of things, So introduce Raja: the husband. (But I am usually wary of talking about my personal life to a complete stranger; I can't even recall her name right now, I only remember that she was Indian). Also, until very recently I was not used to admitting that I am married, because we were not married on paper in the US, I usually used to go by "my fiance" or "my boyfriend", but in reply to the question of this rather curious stranger who found it necessary to inquire who pays my rent, of all the synonyms in the world, I chose to blurt out "my partner." And until then I did not even think there might be any misunderstanding with the term. Anyway, during our walk I was not my usual animated self, and much retired to my own thoughts-- the first thing I'd do when reaching home is change my test date, and then I have to cook the cauliflower, maybe I should take the GRE too as a backup, and then I must clean the bathroom (it's been 3 days already), and then I have to pick up a few other things from the grocery-- and thus my stream of consciousness was playing itself out-- when it was suddenly interrupted with what appeared to sound like this, "you are the first Indian lesbian I met." I was a little bewildered for the moment. And then she emphasized further, "so it's you and your partner living in the apartment?" I can't tell why but I felt lazy to talk and clarify the whole thing, when my mind was engaged with other pressing concerns, and I just thought to myself that I don't have the energy to explain all the intricate details as to why I reserve the more familiar and obvious term, "husband." So i let it be. I just replied "yes" to her question, and decided to remain remembered as the first Indian lesbian in someone's records in this world whom I don't have to meet ever again. I hope. But if I do then there would be twice as much as explaining required. Maybe I will invent a twin then! "O you must have had met my twin sister; yeah SHE'S lesbian."