Taking stock and counting sheep
Published Wednesday, December 28, 2005 by Color/Light/Water.
Weekends, weekdays, Phiadelphia, New York, long busrides in the smelly Chinatown buses, sleeping snug on my bed, sleeping snug on a random hotel bed, glitzly lights of Times Square, sedated glow of RIttenhouse square in philly--- everything swirls within each other and sometimes when you cannot tell when night slips into day and day into night- I cannot tell when my days are slipping in and out of these things.
Christmas night saw Philadelphia turned into a magical land right out of Enid Blyton's Faraway Tree. It rained all day and by night time, all that was left was a thick, tingly mist. The yellow street lights peneterating through the mist gave my city an ehtreal, faraway glow. We drove aimlessly along Kelly Drive. From the rear window, I saw the stark naked winter trees nestled in the mist and it wasn't nearly as creepy as it was splendid. We stopped the car by the river where there were no street lamps. We kept the music on and the car-headlights on. We posed infront of the headlights and the pictures that came out were of dark silhouettes against bright lights. A boat, tied to the anchor was so silent that I had an intense urge to throw a pebble and see it bob. But the river was silent too - the mist had engulfed it and we couldn't tell were the mist ended and the water began. We were scared to go near the edge, afraid that we'd float away with the mist. My sister spotted a tiny doll by the edge and worried thinking it was a voodoo doll. I tried to take a picture of the silent boat with my digital camera but it was so misty that even the flash couldn't peneterate it. The boat houses glittered in their blue garbs, like they do every night. And the bridge changed its colors- from red to green, to yellow to blue. It was phantasmic. It was surreal. It was beautiful. "I've never seen Philly so beautiful before," I murmered.
The apartment I lived in previously, I was on the 12th floor and the living room had a huge hexagonal shaped bay window. We kept a bed by the window and sometimes, on winter mornings when sleep alluded me, I'd wake up to a sensation of floating on clouds. Only stark whiteness. Outside my window. Even on rainy winter nights, the mist was so high up on the 12th floor that if I stepped out of my window, I'd be stepping on soft misty clouds.
Its nights like these that remind me of how beautiful your own backyard is- if you only look at it.
****
Sometimes when I read my friend's blogs or hear them talk about their lives I envy them because they are still so naive and innocent . And untouched by realities that will probably never raise their ugly heads in these friend's lives. Although Jonathan Livingstone proved that there are no realities, it is only a perception, I beg to differ. I feel wistful about having my own innocence having matured into rationality
At 18, I had to think about where my next meal was coming from and learnt to live pay-check by pay-check. At 20, I went to bed still hungry because I was willing to sacrifice my hunger for more material pursuits such as traveling more in Italy and shopping. At 21, I celebrated my brithday all alone in New York - had dinner and drink with a complete stranger whom I was too ashamed to meet after - and lived in a cockroach infested apartment with no fans and lights because that was all I could afford. I've gone into depression not because of the lack of love in my life but because for the first time I learnt that love didn't feel a stomach, bring a sound sleep and pay my rent.
So many times I've wondered if I'd be happier had I stayed on in India. I don't anymore. But when I did, I'd ask myself if I'd be a better person had I never learnt to take responsibility for my actions. I remember, when I was 15, I wanted to be a singer. I have a fairly good voice and enjoy singing but I am not talented. My parents, if they thought so, never told me. And for my birthday, gifted me a 25,000 rupees PSR620, the professional keyboard. I dabbled a bit, was ga-ga about it for a few months and then, as my chimerical mind latched on to another pursuit, the keyboard caught dust and became a show-piece in my livingroom. I never thought twice about the money wasted on it and my parents, never reminded me of it. Today, I age 10 years when I miss a credit card payment and worry myself to death if I get charged a late fee.
And its not just me. My sister worked 60 hour weeks at a measly $6/hour when she was only 17. She learnt, even quicker than I did, about credit card payments, going hungry, denying oneself the materialistic life and living from foot to mouth. At 19 now, she is a 100 times more mature and practical than I was at her age. My parents, as proud they are of us, can't help feeling sorry for not being able to provide us the better American life. My sister and I shudder to think what would have become of us had our parents had plenty of money to spare. Ambitionless, lost, irresponsible and probably daughters who never realized or valued what they had.
Some of my friends in India, are getting married. And I thank god for they will be blissfully ignorant. Their husbands are (touchwood) financially stable, a BIG roof on their heads and will produce a meal fit for a king to keep their wives happy. And I couldn't be happier for them. But also a little envious. They will get everything I worked for, for free! And thats when you begin to wonder, the true worth of dreams and happiness and goals and lives.
I questioned this to my friend in India once and the words he said stayed with me. "It was your choice."
It is.
Being in such a position is like being on no-man's land. Myself, R, Jolly, Gauri, Sharan, Madhu -- I think we all feel that way on different levels. Madhu learnt the bitter lesson this winter when she had to cancel her trip to visit me because she realized she could work during the break and make money. I was mad at her, but deep down I understood. I understood because everytime faced with idea of going somewhere on Spring Break, I'd decide to stay back and work so I could have money. There's something about this that is very ugly and beautiful at the same time. Ugly because it strips you off the skin you've adorned before that and beautiful because it marks your entry into adulthood.
*****
It will be 2006 next week. When I was younger, I'd want o hang on to one day of the year that was slipping by. Just one day that I could live in the future whenever I wanted to. I don't remember wishing for that in a long time now. But 2005 has certainly been something of a year. My house was drowned in the horrible Bombay 26th July flood, my dad's business was hit, My sister was unfortunately in India and witnessed it and is now scared everytime it rains. But. the Shah family survived and built back their life. The daughters here in philly and the parents in bombay. I look back and take stock and this year, it didn't matter that I graduated with honors, that I did so and so and got so and so praises. What matters is this -
I don't do silly things like going hungry so I can have money to pay bills and shop. I don't keep my bank statements and credit card bills unopened under my pillow anymore. And because I've got rid of two of my worst habits I know I've improved this year. This is what I've achieved in 2005. (And R you have to admire me because I finally checked my credit report. It wasn't as scary as I thought it would be.)
*****
I don't know what next year will bring. But I do know I will strive to better myself as a person. To handle my finances better and to live a fuller life. Spread more love and make more friends. Travel more, read more, write more and definitely shop more :P
I wish you all the same. I talk about a lot of emotions here on my blog- jealousy, envy, sadness, sorrow , happiness and love. But if I were to choose one emotion, one state of mind to accompany all of us into the next year, it would be contentment.
*****
If I don't post before the next year - have a great new years all! Get drunk, don't puke, don't pass out. Dance the night away and stay happy with your friends and family.
Christmas night saw Philadelphia turned into a magical land right out of Enid Blyton's Faraway Tree. It rained all day and by night time, all that was left was a thick, tingly mist. The yellow street lights peneterating through the mist gave my city an ehtreal, faraway glow. We drove aimlessly along Kelly Drive. From the rear window, I saw the stark naked winter trees nestled in the mist and it wasn't nearly as creepy as it was splendid. We stopped the car by the river where there were no street lamps. We kept the music on and the car-headlights on. We posed infront of the headlights and the pictures that came out were of dark silhouettes against bright lights. A boat, tied to the anchor was so silent that I had an intense urge to throw a pebble and see it bob. But the river was silent too - the mist had engulfed it and we couldn't tell were the mist ended and the water began. We were scared to go near the edge, afraid that we'd float away with the mist. My sister spotted a tiny doll by the edge and worried thinking it was a voodoo doll. I tried to take a picture of the silent boat with my digital camera but it was so misty that even the flash couldn't peneterate it. The boat houses glittered in their blue garbs, like they do every night. And the bridge changed its colors- from red to green, to yellow to blue. It was phantasmic. It was surreal. It was beautiful. "I've never seen Philly so beautiful before," I murmered.
The apartment I lived in previously, I was on the 12th floor and the living room had a huge hexagonal shaped bay window. We kept a bed by the window and sometimes, on winter mornings when sleep alluded me, I'd wake up to a sensation of floating on clouds. Only stark whiteness. Outside my window. Even on rainy winter nights, the mist was so high up on the 12th floor that if I stepped out of my window, I'd be stepping on soft misty clouds.
Its nights like these that remind me of how beautiful your own backyard is- if you only look at it.
****
Sometimes when I read my friend's blogs or hear them talk about their lives I envy them because they are still so naive and innocent . And untouched by realities that will probably never raise their ugly heads in these friend's lives. Although Jonathan Livingstone proved that there are no realities, it is only a perception, I beg to differ. I feel wistful about having my own innocence having matured into rationality
At 18, I had to think about where my next meal was coming from and learnt to live pay-check by pay-check. At 20, I went to bed still hungry because I was willing to sacrifice my hunger for more material pursuits such as traveling more in Italy and shopping. At 21, I celebrated my brithday all alone in New York - had dinner and drink with a complete stranger whom I was too ashamed to meet after - and lived in a cockroach infested apartment with no fans and lights because that was all I could afford. I've gone into depression not because of the lack of love in my life but because for the first time I learnt that love didn't feel a stomach, bring a sound sleep and pay my rent.
So many times I've wondered if I'd be happier had I stayed on in India. I don't anymore. But when I did, I'd ask myself if I'd be a better person had I never learnt to take responsibility for my actions. I remember, when I was 15, I wanted to be a singer. I have a fairly good voice and enjoy singing but I am not talented. My parents, if they thought so, never told me. And for my birthday, gifted me a 25,000 rupees PSR620, the professional keyboard. I dabbled a bit, was ga-ga about it for a few months and then, as my chimerical mind latched on to another pursuit, the keyboard caught dust and became a show-piece in my livingroom. I never thought twice about the money wasted on it and my parents, never reminded me of it. Today, I age 10 years when I miss a credit card payment and worry myself to death if I get charged a late fee.
And its not just me. My sister worked 60 hour weeks at a measly $6/hour when she was only 17. She learnt, even quicker than I did, about credit card payments, going hungry, denying oneself the materialistic life and living from foot to mouth. At 19 now, she is a 100 times more mature and practical than I was at her age. My parents, as proud they are of us, can't help feeling sorry for not being able to provide us the better American life. My sister and I shudder to think what would have become of us had our parents had plenty of money to spare. Ambitionless, lost, irresponsible and probably daughters who never realized or valued what they had.
Some of my friends in India, are getting married. And I thank god for they will be blissfully ignorant. Their husbands are (touchwood) financially stable, a BIG roof on their heads and will produce a meal fit for a king to keep their wives happy. And I couldn't be happier for them. But also a little envious. They will get everything I worked for, for free! And thats when you begin to wonder, the true worth of dreams and happiness and goals and lives.
I questioned this to my friend in India once and the words he said stayed with me. "It was your choice."
It is.
Being in such a position is like being on no-man's land. Myself, R, Jolly, Gauri, Sharan, Madhu -- I think we all feel that way on different levels. Madhu learnt the bitter lesson this winter when she had to cancel her trip to visit me because she realized she could work during the break and make money. I was mad at her, but deep down I understood. I understood because everytime faced with idea of going somewhere on Spring Break, I'd decide to stay back and work so I could have money. There's something about this that is very ugly and beautiful at the same time. Ugly because it strips you off the skin you've adorned before that and beautiful because it marks your entry into adulthood.
*****
It will be 2006 next week. When I was younger, I'd want o hang on to one day of the year that was slipping by. Just one day that I could live in the future whenever I wanted to. I don't remember wishing for that in a long time now. But 2005 has certainly been something of a year. My house was drowned in the horrible Bombay 26th July flood, my dad's business was hit, My sister was unfortunately in India and witnessed it and is now scared everytime it rains. But. the Shah family survived and built back their life. The daughters here in philly and the parents in bombay. I look back and take stock and this year, it didn't matter that I graduated with honors, that I did so and so and got so and so praises. What matters is this -
I don't do silly things like going hungry so I can have money to pay bills and shop. I don't keep my bank statements and credit card bills unopened under my pillow anymore. And because I've got rid of two of my worst habits I know I've improved this year. This is what I've achieved in 2005. (And R you have to admire me because I finally checked my credit report. It wasn't as scary as I thought it would be.)
*****
I don't know what next year will bring. But I do know I will strive to better myself as a person. To handle my finances better and to live a fuller life. Spread more love and make more friends. Travel more, read more, write more and definitely shop more :P
I wish you all the same. I talk about a lot of emotions here on my blog- jealousy, envy, sadness, sorrow , happiness and love. But if I were to choose one emotion, one state of mind to accompany all of us into the next year, it would be contentment.
*****
If I don't post before the next year - have a great new years all! Get drunk, don't puke, don't pass out. Dance the night away and stay happy with your friends and family.
Projects and Goals - Constructive Time Management
Published Thursday, December 22, 2005 by Color/Light/Water.
No resolutions for me. I'm happy.
Goals for 2006:-
- Summer trip to Prague, Amsterdam or Barcelona
-December trip to India, financed on my own
- Should be rid of 50% of my credit card and tutition debt
- Make $40k this year. Even if I have to take up multiple freelance jobs.
- Publish a clip in a national magazine
- Gain recognition for professional blog
- Get my drivers liscense (DON'T TAUNT ME! I WAS BUSY!)
- Be nice to sister, boyfriend, parents, friends and my health.
Goal for Weekend:-
- Grafitti Philly
Goals for 2006:-
- Summer trip to Prague, Amsterdam or Barcelona
-December trip to India, financed on my own
- Should be rid of 50% of my credit card and tutition debt
- Make $40k this year. Even if I have to take up multiple freelance jobs.
- Publish a clip in a national magazine
- Gain recognition for professional blog
- Get my drivers liscense (DON'T TAUNT ME! I WAS BUSY!)
- Be nice to sister, boyfriend, parents, friends and my health.
Goal for Weekend:-
- Grafitti Philly
"As we go on, we remember....all the times we... spent together.."
Published by Color/Light/Water.
I've very rarely felt true, unadulteratred happiness for someone else without feeling a little sad about myself. The happiness I felt for my friends wasn't marked with jealousy or envy, but a slight tinge of wistfulness for myself.
A very, very dear and close friend of seven years got engaged yesterday. It all happened so suddenly that even though we were expecting this news to come our way, when it finally came-- It took me off gaurd. And so did the happiness that burst from within. So pure, so joyous and it was all for her. And I didn't feel a wee bit wistful for myself. I felt so happy that I wanted to fly banners and scream out to everyone that my friend got engaged!
I came to work early and called Madhu, the one who I was pissed with coz she cancelled coming to Philly for the break. I woke her up, (Cali is a couple of hours behind) and squealed as I told her of "the" news! If she wasn't awake before, now she was! It was so bitter-sweet. If we were still 17, we would have both cried.
- it seemed so silly to still be mad at Madhu and not share this excitement with her just coz she didn't come to Philly. Besides, I missed her terribly.
Then I woke up Sameer in Canada and told him the news. And got mad at him for not showing his excitement. I talked to him for a couple of minutes and before hanging up he said, tell me tina's news when you meet me online or I'll think this was a dream. I yelled at him again and then hung up.
Life is beautiful. :) I called Tina and she was at her "fiances" cousin's wedding (In bbay, duh!) It was soo eeire! She's suddenly someones future mami and kaki and bhabhi! LOL. This.....22 year old pink-snowflake of mine is someone's bhabhi, how dope is that?! (dope is the new word I picked up from Brandon)
I thought to myself, if Tina could say yes to spending her entire life with a man she's known via an arranged setting for a few months, I can definitely gather the courage to think of myself married to R. Tina's engagement has given me a strange but sublime courage and an appreciation for what I have.
I've warned everyone, including R, that there is NO way we are to miss her wedding in Dec 2006. So brace yourself Bombay-- Madhu, Sameer, R and me are coming to Bombay. Who knows? this time, next year we'll prolly be dancing at her wedding or getting drunk at her spinster' party! I missed Rati's wedding this December, there is no way I'm going to miss Tinas.
My roommate Gauri kinda hinted her parents about Sharan. Maybe wedding bells will ring for them too!! Ti's the season of merriment and joyfulness. I think I've gotten my best Christmas gift.
Whats most wonderful about growing up with friends is that you see them go through everything- boyfriends, break-ups, academic qualifications, first-jobs, first-salaries, first-time sex, first car ....and then marriage. It is a feeling I cannot describe. It reminds you of much much more you still have to share, it reminds you that even though the time you get to spend with each other becomes less- it begins to mean more and it becomes more precious. When we graduated Mithibai in 2001, we made an oath to never lose each other. Vitamin C's, Graduation Day, was "our" song. I'm nostalgic and happy.
Another friend of mine is (hopefully) very close to realizing his dream. And it makes me happy because I saw him work hard for it- I saw the desperation and passion in his efforts and this is what he deserves. It's an interview call-- and I know he will nail it. You go , Vivek!
Now if I don't stop talking about my friends, I'm going to really cry. I'm just so happy today. I love you all.
A very, very dear and close friend of seven years got engaged yesterday. It all happened so suddenly that even though we were expecting this news to come our way, when it finally came-- It took me off gaurd. And so did the happiness that burst from within. So pure, so joyous and it was all for her. And I didn't feel a wee bit wistful for myself. I felt so happy that I wanted to fly banners and scream out to everyone that my friend got engaged!
I came to work early and called Madhu, the one who I was pissed with coz she cancelled coming to Philly for the break. I woke her up, (Cali is a couple of hours behind) and squealed as I told her of "the" news! If she wasn't awake before, now she was! It was so bitter-sweet. If we were still 17, we would have both cried.
- it seemed so silly to still be mad at Madhu and not share this excitement with her just coz she didn't come to Philly. Besides, I missed her terribly.
Then I woke up Sameer in Canada and told him the news. And got mad at him for not showing his excitement. I talked to him for a couple of minutes and before hanging up he said, tell me tina's news when you meet me online or I'll think this was a dream. I yelled at him again and then hung up.
Life is beautiful. :) I called Tina and she was at her "fiances" cousin's wedding (In bbay, duh!) It was soo eeire! She's suddenly someones future mami and kaki and bhabhi! LOL. This.....22 year old pink-snowflake of mine is someone's bhabhi, how dope is that?! (dope is the new word I picked up from Brandon)
I thought to myself, if Tina could say yes to spending her entire life with a man she's known via an arranged setting for a few months, I can definitely gather the courage to think of myself married to R. Tina's engagement has given me a strange but sublime courage and an appreciation for what I have.
I've warned everyone, including R, that there is NO way we are to miss her wedding in Dec 2006. So brace yourself Bombay-- Madhu, Sameer, R and me are coming to Bombay. Who knows? this time, next year we'll prolly be dancing at her wedding or getting drunk at her spinster' party! I missed Rati's wedding this December, there is no way I'm going to miss Tinas.
My roommate Gauri kinda hinted her parents about Sharan. Maybe wedding bells will ring for them too!! Ti's the season of merriment and joyfulness. I think I've gotten my best Christmas gift.
Whats most wonderful about growing up with friends is that you see them go through everything- boyfriends, break-ups, academic qualifications, first-jobs, first-salaries, first-time sex, first car ....and then marriage. It is a feeling I cannot describe. It reminds you of much much more you still have to share, it reminds you that even though the time you get to spend with each other becomes less- it begins to mean more and it becomes more precious. When we graduated Mithibai in 2001, we made an oath to never lose each other. Vitamin C's, Graduation Day, was "our" song. I'm nostalgic and happy.
Another friend of mine is (hopefully) very close to realizing his dream. And it makes me happy because I saw him work hard for it- I saw the desperation and passion in his efforts and this is what he deserves. It's an interview call-- and I know he will nail it. You go , Vivek!
Now if I don't stop talking about my friends, I'm going to really cry. I'm just so happy today. I love you all.
Inspiration goes a long way.
Published Wednesday, December 21, 2005 by Color/Light/Water.
Yesterday, they let us go an hour earlier :( As a freelance, every hour counts. It was freezing outside and boredom had taken its toll on me, so I walked ot K's apartment and watched some TV. I watched the show, Deal or No Deal". They asked the viewers to send an sms with their guess of the winning suitcase. I sent in Number 11 and guess what? It was freakin number 11! But nopes, I didn't win the $10,000. Sigh. I wasted 50 cents. :(
I'm working on a story about a party that Gucci threw at a famous chef's L.A palazzo. Because there was some discrepancy with the story, we asked to see the invite and one of the editors just dropped of the invite to this event. You would not believe what it is- -- its a gold plated block of metal with the invitation inscribed on it! And Gucci sent out some 200 of those invitations. (whistle) I held it and saw my face reflect in its mirror-like quality, smudged with random finger marks. How much money gone down the drain is that? Working in such lavishness just reminds me sometimes how wasteful and pretentious these super-rich people and corps are! A gold invite. hah.
Last night K and me sampled a Vietnamese restaurant right opposite her building. We shared a pad-thai and vegetable spring rolls- the food was soo good! Earlier I used to be the kind of person who'd starve herself to buy new shoes/ clothes. Now, I think about eating well first. Ever since we graduated and R got his super-cool job, we've been sampling every restaurant in Philly. And when I move to NY- ofcourse after I have a couple thousand dollars saved up, I'm going to try a new restaurant every day.
Work is unusually slow this week. I think it will pick up once the new year kicks in. I'm very excited about by gig at the other magazine. At every magazine, there usually is a give-away table where the editors put stuff they arent going to use in a story and don't want for themselves. I've found treasures at the table at this magazine! Just a couple mins back I picked up a Fodors Spanish for Travelers CD disc. yippiee. But the word is, the gicve-away table at the other magazine is a hundred times cooler and has more stuff. hehe. HEY-- Don't be jealous. Magazines don't pay as much but we have our fun perks!
I can't wait to start doing more important, writing related work. I've written to a couple editors at travel magazines for freelancing. No one's gotten back yet but I presume it is because of the holidays. Also I'm searching for more fodder for my "other" blog. My friend Brandon's mother teaches at a jail here in NY and he has such fascinating stories to tell. I'm going to interview her for my other blog. Brandon is also an aspiring film-maker and conversing with him is very inspiring. I think both of us take turns at inspiring each other. I've asked him to guest-blog on my other blog because he has such a strong voice and I want my "blog" to represent more voices.
I think writing is an art and most artists at some point in their life get attracted to or feel strongly about intermixing different art-forms. Visual story-telling is something I've been dabbling with. I don't necessarily believe that either words or photographs are disposable in lieu for another, but I think the synergy between words and images, works beautifully and complements one another.
Philadelphia, my hometown, shelters a very rich, hip-hop culture. And one aspect of this culture are the stunning works of graffiti intersperesed throughout the city. It has been on my mind to photograph these images since forever. you'd imagine that I would have done all these things "that I've wanted to do since forever" when I was sitting jobless for 3 months- but I didn't! When you have too much time, it is difficult to prioritize it. Now that time is dearthful, I know I will actually get around to doing this project. I'll ask R if he'd mind driving me around the city this weekend, so I could shoot the graffiti. Then I'll make a nice pdf. booklet and upload it on my blog for everyone to download.
I've never seen the Rockefellar tree during Christmas. My office is one block from the Rockefellar center and I've still not seen it. Partly because I'm lazy and its cold and partly because I want to see it with R. I'm on a major butter-R-up trip to get him to drive to NY this Friday to pick me up and have dinner in NY. Its the second day of MTA strike. The last time these people went on strike was in 1982 and it lasted for 12-13 days! I hope its not so this time. A lot of my friends have to walk more than 60-70 blocks to come to work. But I'm hoping the strike will last until Friday so R is compelled to drive here instead of taking the bus. hhee. I'm evil :P
Last year., I'd written a chick-flick movie script for a play-writing class and got an A on it. Brandon thinks I should polish it up and try to sell it. He's given me hopes. I could do with some money. He going to read it and tell me what he thinks of it. I'l lhave to figure out a way to sell it now. I has so much fun writing it! Its a very typical story line-- set in NY, has kids, hot women, hot men etc. But the dailogues are killer. Trust me, I dont get A's for bullshitting.
Who knows? If Universal or HBO buys it, you'll be lucky to watch it on TV. :P heheheheh
OK. back to work. This time on a Heidi Klum story.
I'm working on a story about a party that Gucci threw at a famous chef's L.A palazzo. Because there was some discrepancy with the story, we asked to see the invite and one of the editors just dropped of the invite to this event. You would not believe what it is- -- its a gold plated block of metal with the invitation inscribed on it! And Gucci sent out some 200 of those invitations. (whistle) I held it and saw my face reflect in its mirror-like quality, smudged with random finger marks. How much money gone down the drain is that? Working in such lavishness just reminds me sometimes how wasteful and pretentious these super-rich people and corps are! A gold invite. hah.
Last night K and me sampled a Vietnamese restaurant right opposite her building. We shared a pad-thai and vegetable spring rolls- the food was soo good! Earlier I used to be the kind of person who'd starve herself to buy new shoes/ clothes. Now, I think about eating well first. Ever since we graduated and R got his super-cool job, we've been sampling every restaurant in Philly. And when I move to NY- ofcourse after I have a couple thousand dollars saved up, I'm going to try a new restaurant every day.
Work is unusually slow this week. I think it will pick up once the new year kicks in. I'm very excited about by gig at the other magazine. At every magazine, there usually is a give-away table where the editors put stuff they arent going to use in a story and don't want for themselves. I've found treasures at the table at this magazine! Just a couple mins back I picked up a Fodors Spanish for Travelers CD disc. yippiee. But the word is, the gicve-away table at the other magazine is a hundred times cooler and has more stuff. hehe. HEY-- Don't be jealous. Magazines don't pay as much but we have our fun perks!
I can't wait to start doing more important, writing related work. I've written to a couple editors at travel magazines for freelancing. No one's gotten back yet but I presume it is because of the holidays. Also I'm searching for more fodder for my "other" blog. My friend Brandon's mother teaches at a jail here in NY and he has such fascinating stories to tell. I'm going to interview her for my other blog. Brandon is also an aspiring film-maker and conversing with him is very inspiring. I think both of us take turns at inspiring each other. I've asked him to guest-blog on my other blog because he has such a strong voice and I want my "blog" to represent more voices.
I think writing is an art and most artists at some point in their life get attracted to or feel strongly about intermixing different art-forms. Visual story-telling is something I've been dabbling with. I don't necessarily believe that either words or photographs are disposable in lieu for another, but I think the synergy between words and images, works beautifully and complements one another.
Philadelphia, my hometown, shelters a very rich, hip-hop culture. And one aspect of this culture are the stunning works of graffiti intersperesed throughout the city. It has been on my mind to photograph these images since forever. you'd imagine that I would have done all these things "that I've wanted to do since forever" when I was sitting jobless for 3 months- but I didn't! When you have too much time, it is difficult to prioritize it. Now that time is dearthful, I know I will actually get around to doing this project. I'll ask R if he'd mind driving me around the city this weekend, so I could shoot the graffiti. Then I'll make a nice pdf. booklet and upload it on my blog for everyone to download.
I've never seen the Rockefellar tree during Christmas. My office is one block from the Rockefellar center and I've still not seen it. Partly because I'm lazy and its cold and partly because I want to see it with R. I'm on a major butter-R-up trip to get him to drive to NY this Friday to pick me up and have dinner in NY. Its the second day of MTA strike. The last time these people went on strike was in 1982 and it lasted for 12-13 days! I hope its not so this time. A lot of my friends have to walk more than 60-70 blocks to come to work. But I'm hoping the strike will last until Friday so R is compelled to drive here instead of taking the bus. hhee. I'm evil :P
Last year., I'd written a chick-flick movie script for a play-writing class and got an A on it. Brandon thinks I should polish it up and try to sell it. He's given me hopes. I could do with some money. He going to read it and tell me what he thinks of it. I'l lhave to figure out a way to sell it now. I has so much fun writing it! Its a very typical story line-- set in NY, has kids, hot women, hot men etc. But the dailogues are killer. Trust me, I dont get A's for bullshitting.
Who knows? If Universal or HBO buys it, you'll be lucky to watch it on TV. :P heheheheh
OK. back to work. This time on a Heidi Klum story.
Pedestrian Woes
Published Tuesday, December 20, 2005 by Color/Light/Water.
I'm staying with my roommate's best friend Kusum. K works for one an accounting firm in India and they shipped her over here to help out with the tax season. Luckily for me, I'm crashing with her at her uber-tiny, but ultra cool studio on Times Sqaure- What a pleasant change it has been for me to wake up at 9am and leave for work at 10am (its only a 5 min walk!) When I commuted from Jersey, I had to be up at 7am and leave by 8. Sheesh.
Today the MTA (the subway and bus system in New york) is on strike. I watched the news this morning and saw throngs of commuters stranded in Brooklyn and Queens figuring out a way to get to work. I felt smug that I wasn't one of them! I sauntered to work in a short silk skirt, high boots and tights to keep me warm! My Bisou-Bisou plum coat is very stylish and sexy but not at all warm! K asked me yesterday, does this keep you warm? I said, no, it keeps me stylish! :P If I had my own place here, I'd have the luxury of choosing a coat to go with my outfit everyday. Since I'm living out of a bag (literally!) I can only carry one coat with me.
Yesterday for dinner, K showed me this new place. New for me, not for New York. It's called the Kati roll house and is on 46th, between 5th and 6th aves. Its orange colored walls reminded me of Barista. The walls were dotted with old Amitabh Bacchan movie posters. Naseeb, Don, Namak halal and the rest I forgot. It was a little expensive but I hadn't eaten frankies in a long time. I tried the achari paneer and aloo tikki roll. In my head I was thinking, I have to bring R here! He's gonna love the place coz they had all kinds of non-veg rolls too. After dinner, we walked back to K's apartment and I promptly fell asleep within an hour! I have a slight suspicion that my mama's daughter, my cousin, lives in the same building as K. Its very weird with her- either there has been a major miscommunication or I just am insecure around her.
A, my cousin, is extrememly beautfiful. Some people don't think so, but I do. She's some 5.9 " tall, fair-skinned and had jet black hair which she dyed to a blondish brown. She used to have people swooning all over her. When she was getting her nails done at a salon- the lady who did her nails kept saying to her she should enter modeling. So when A moved to NYU she went on a binge diet and would count calories like a maniac. She got a portfolio made and then started modelling. So when I say I am insecure about her, I don't think my fears are totally baseless! Anyhow, at one point when we were little, we were close. Its funny coz we were closer when I was in India and then when I moved here- we grew so apart that now it has been one year since I last communicated with her. After I came her, I was kinda expecting her to keep in touch with me, visit me, that kinda shit. And she never did! So 2 yrs back when I was in NY for the summer, interning at this magazine, I emailed her. I was alone and had no friends. She replied back saying she was very busy and had "to check her schedule." I never heard from her after that and never wrote to her after that.
My fear was palapable in that email. My helplessness was apparent. I was new to a city, and my cousin who's been here for 8 years didn't even offer me an opportunity to crash at her place OR to meet me! I was soon filled with immense anger towards her and her family because every time they came to India, my parents dropped everythng, cancelled all our plans to accomodate them. I try not to hate her too much or think about her too much because a few years back she was diagnosed with lymph cancer. She's perfectly alright now (touchwood) and doing very well at her job too. But I don't stop fantasizing about the day when I'm extremely rich and successful and famous or in a position to help her. I don't stop fantasizing about the day I'll just bump into her on some random street or a club in NY or even the elevator of this building I'm living in with K. Mostly, I await the day she and her family will meet R and realize however insigificant I may be to them, I mean the world to this guy.
This week at work has been excruciatingly slow. But I am not leaving work before 6! I get paid by the hour and I want my money! Even if I sit here and read old magazine or evasdrop on other's phone conversations. :P
I wrote to two other magazines today to establish a connection and hopefully secure some freelance projects. I'm also thinking about finding a place here for sometime because I am not a big fan of crashing at people's places and living out of a suitcase!
Last Friday, our friends who are still in school threw a End-of-Semester drinking party. It was SO good to get together with our friends. R's best friend and roommate Dhrumil was leaving for India the next morning and we partied like crazy. Before I met R, him, Dhrumil, Tina and Shreepal used to be best friends. And everytime R gets together with them, he's a different person. He is truly himself, and he lets go of himself with thee people. I've never ever seen him get drunk before. He just never gets drunk. I have no idea how much alcohol he consumed this party coz he passed out! and three guys had to carry him down to my apartment! LOL. It was so funny! On Saturday, we went for Bluff master with Tina and Salim. And later had dinner at Penag. While we were eating, Tina told me it was so good to see R wearing colors. Apparently before R met me, he only wore button-down starched, ironed shirts to college! He was always prim and proper. Even his jeans used to be ironed!! (shudder!) I remember being horrified when I first saw his closet : everything was blue and white!!!
Now his closet is amazingly eclectic and colorful. After we started going out, he began to wear slacks and trackpants to college and started experimenting with yellow and orange. HeeHeeHaaHaa. I take full credit for this! I didn't even know him before we started going out so I'm thankful I didn't see him in his colorless phase. :P
Its obvious I have no work and am sitting quite jobless. I guess I'll go back to reading old magazines.
Today the MTA (the subway and bus system in New york) is on strike. I watched the news this morning and saw throngs of commuters stranded in Brooklyn and Queens figuring out a way to get to work. I felt smug that I wasn't one of them! I sauntered to work in a short silk skirt, high boots and tights to keep me warm! My Bisou-Bisou plum coat is very stylish and sexy but not at all warm! K asked me yesterday, does this keep you warm? I said, no, it keeps me stylish! :P If I had my own place here, I'd have the luxury of choosing a coat to go with my outfit everyday. Since I'm living out of a bag (literally!) I can only carry one coat with me.
Yesterday for dinner, K showed me this new place. New for me, not for New York. It's called the Kati roll house and is on 46th, between 5th and 6th aves. Its orange colored walls reminded me of Barista. The walls were dotted with old Amitabh Bacchan movie posters. Naseeb, Don, Namak halal and the rest I forgot. It was a little expensive but I hadn't eaten frankies in a long time. I tried the achari paneer and aloo tikki roll. In my head I was thinking, I have to bring R here! He's gonna love the place coz they had all kinds of non-veg rolls too. After dinner, we walked back to K's apartment and I promptly fell asleep within an hour! I have a slight suspicion that my mama's daughter, my cousin, lives in the same building as K. Its very weird with her- either there has been a major miscommunication or I just am insecure around her.
A, my cousin, is extrememly beautfiful. Some people don't think so, but I do. She's some 5.9 " tall, fair-skinned and had jet black hair which she dyed to a blondish brown. She used to have people swooning all over her. When she was getting her nails done at a salon- the lady who did her nails kept saying to her she should enter modeling. So when A moved to NYU she went on a binge diet and would count calories like a maniac. She got a portfolio made and then started modelling. So when I say I am insecure about her, I don't think my fears are totally baseless! Anyhow, at one point when we were little, we were close. Its funny coz we were closer when I was in India and then when I moved here- we grew so apart that now it has been one year since I last communicated with her. After I came her, I was kinda expecting her to keep in touch with me, visit me, that kinda shit. And she never did! So 2 yrs back when I was in NY for the summer, interning at this magazine, I emailed her. I was alone and had no friends. She replied back saying she was very busy and had "to check her schedule." I never heard from her after that and never wrote to her after that.
My fear was palapable in that email. My helplessness was apparent. I was new to a city, and my cousin who's been here for 8 years didn't even offer me an opportunity to crash at her place OR to meet me! I was soon filled with immense anger towards her and her family because every time they came to India, my parents dropped everythng, cancelled all our plans to accomodate them. I try not to hate her too much or think about her too much because a few years back she was diagnosed with lymph cancer. She's perfectly alright now (touchwood) and doing very well at her job too. But I don't stop fantasizing about the day when I'm extremely rich and successful and famous or in a position to help her. I don't stop fantasizing about the day I'll just bump into her on some random street or a club in NY or even the elevator of this building I'm living in with K. Mostly, I await the day she and her family will meet R and realize however insigificant I may be to them, I mean the world to this guy.
This week at work has been excruciatingly slow. But I am not leaving work before 6! I get paid by the hour and I want my money! Even if I sit here and read old magazine or evasdrop on other's phone conversations. :P
I wrote to two other magazines today to establish a connection and hopefully secure some freelance projects. I'm also thinking about finding a place here for sometime because I am not a big fan of crashing at people's places and living out of a suitcase!
Last Friday, our friends who are still in school threw a End-of-Semester drinking party. It was SO good to get together with our friends. R's best friend and roommate Dhrumil was leaving for India the next morning and we partied like crazy. Before I met R, him, Dhrumil, Tina and Shreepal used to be best friends. And everytime R gets together with them, he's a different person. He is truly himself, and he lets go of himself with thee people. I've never ever seen him get drunk before. He just never gets drunk. I have no idea how much alcohol he consumed this party coz he passed out! and three guys had to carry him down to my apartment! LOL. It was so funny! On Saturday, we went for Bluff master with Tina and Salim. And later had dinner at Penag. While we were eating, Tina told me it was so good to see R wearing colors. Apparently before R met me, he only wore button-down starched, ironed shirts to college! He was always prim and proper. Even his jeans used to be ironed!! (shudder!) I remember being horrified when I first saw his closet : everything was blue and white!!!
Now his closet is amazingly eclectic and colorful. After we started going out, he began to wear slacks and trackpants to college and started experimenting with yellow and orange. HeeHeeHaaHaa. I take full credit for this! I didn't even know him before we started going out so I'm thankful I didn't see him in his colorless phase. :P
Its obvious I have no work and am sitting quite jobless. I guess I'll go back to reading old magazines.
Sleeping and searching
Published Monday, December 19, 2005 by Color/Light/Water.
It was a bad idea to stay up all night to get back into schedule. I felt a weird sourness in my throat all day and then fell asleep on my desk for a good hour. Its alright though coz no one ever comes into the cave. (the cave, is where i sit with the other reporters, its a lil dingy corner and feels very private) Besides, I have only one story to work on and it is not closing today. So its very relaxed in here.
A good thing happened- I got the job at the magazine I interviewed for! It's not a full time job (trust me, in the magazine industry in USA - it is harder to find a full time job than for a homeless person to find a job at the local 7 eleven.) It is "fulltime-freelance" whatever that means. But I love this magazine, and am delighted to be a part of it! I wish, I wish I could spil more details about the name of the magazine and the notorious publishing house it belongs to - but I can't. Its unprofessional and could be my one-way ticket to get thrown out of the magazine world!
But I'll tell you this much- it is the number one women's magazine in USA. (and no, its not cosmo!) We haven't discussed the pay yet but I've heard they pay well than what my current magazine does-a couple dollars more. but that makes a HUGE difference. I don't want to get too excited coz I don't know the details, all I know is that I'm starting Jan3! Fingers crossed!
I've overridden my cell phone bill in the last couple of months and today I am very proud of myself. I didn't panick when I saw the $600 due charge on my account. Instead I called up verizon and stayed on the phone with them for 1 hour and got them to give reduce my bill to a mere $290 bucks! (I only have pay $170 out of that coz the rest R does- we have a shared plan, but I'm the one who always goes above the limit)
Anyways, I was so calm and collected about how I handled it! A good friend Prasad used to tell me, when you've been in shit too many times, it becomes a joke. heh, today I can say I agree with him.
Something sucky happened as well. A girl, from my university whom I had helped by giving her the information of the lady who hires at the magazine I work at, got the internship here. I am mad because that girl is very ungrateful. She never thanked me and when she saw me in the bus or wherever, she'd pretend to not know me!! Sheesh. My friend Brandon here also warned me about "Crazy women" at the new magazine where I'm going to work. Magazine business is so competetive, and it both humbles you and makes you strong. It is a glamorous job, no doubt. And thousands of women want it. So there's obviously a lot of back biting, stepping on one another's foot and even toppling one another. Thankfully, I've learnt to recognize who my foes are and who my friends are. I want to keep this blog to myself and not talk too much about my job because it could risk me losing it!
Oh and I also learnt that one of the assistants who was working here in the Beauty dept got fired because she wasn't doing her job well! I used to know her-- Harvard educated, very smart/.I dont know what went wrong, maybe she wasn't satisfied with her job.
I still have to kill a couple more hours because the girl I'm crashing over at returns from work by 8. :( I'm so tired that I just want to sleep. I miss R. He dropped me to work this morning and he even commented on my other "professional" blog!! hehe
Once I find out how permanent this new job is, I am going to think more seriously about finding a place here. That sort of thing.
Adrestia and Vivek- although I couldn't reply to your comments (my computer at work sucks!) thank you for writing it. Adrestia, you are very generous and sweet! Its silly that comments should matter, hopefully that will change for me as well. And Vivek - I'm getting spammed! What did you do on your blog? show me ! Next update will come tomorrow.
A good thing happened- I got the job at the magazine I interviewed for! It's not a full time job (trust me, in the magazine industry in USA - it is harder to find a full time job than for a homeless person to find a job at the local 7 eleven.) It is "fulltime-freelance" whatever that means. But I love this magazine, and am delighted to be a part of it! I wish, I wish I could spil more details about the name of the magazine and the notorious publishing house it belongs to - but I can't. Its unprofessional and could be my one-way ticket to get thrown out of the magazine world!
But I'll tell you this much- it is the number one women's magazine in USA. (and no, its not cosmo!) We haven't discussed the pay yet but I've heard they pay well than what my current magazine does-a couple dollars more. but that makes a HUGE difference. I don't want to get too excited coz I don't know the details, all I know is that I'm starting Jan3! Fingers crossed!
I've overridden my cell phone bill in the last couple of months and today I am very proud of myself. I didn't panick when I saw the $600 due charge on my account. Instead I called up verizon and stayed on the phone with them for 1 hour and got them to give reduce my bill to a mere $290 bucks! (I only have pay $170 out of that coz the rest R does- we have a shared plan, but I'm the one who always goes above the limit)
Anyways, I was so calm and collected about how I handled it! A good friend Prasad used to tell me, when you've been in shit too many times, it becomes a joke. heh, today I can say I agree with him.
Something sucky happened as well. A girl, from my university whom I had helped by giving her the information of the lady who hires at the magazine I work at, got the internship here. I am mad because that girl is very ungrateful. She never thanked me and when she saw me in the bus or wherever, she'd pretend to not know me!! Sheesh. My friend Brandon here also warned me about "Crazy women" at the new magazine where I'm going to work. Magazine business is so competetive, and it both humbles you and makes you strong. It is a glamorous job, no doubt. And thousands of women want it. So there's obviously a lot of back biting, stepping on one another's foot and even toppling one another. Thankfully, I've learnt to recognize who my foes are and who my friends are. I want to keep this blog to myself and not talk too much about my job because it could risk me losing it!
Oh and I also learnt that one of the assistants who was working here in the Beauty dept got fired because she wasn't doing her job well! I used to know her-- Harvard educated, very smart/.I dont know what went wrong, maybe she wasn't satisfied with her job.
I still have to kill a couple more hours because the girl I'm crashing over at returns from work by 8. :( I'm so tired that I just want to sleep. I miss R. He dropped me to work this morning and he even commented on my other "professional" blog!! hehe
Once I find out how permanent this new job is, I am going to think more seriously about finding a place here. That sort of thing.
Adrestia and Vivek- although I couldn't reply to your comments (my computer at work sucks!) thank you for writing it. Adrestia, you are very generous and sweet! Its silly that comments should matter, hopefully that will change for me as well. And Vivek - I'm getting spammed! What did you do on your blog? show me ! Next update will come tomorrow.
Comments work now
Published Sunday, December 18, 2005 by Color/Light/Water.
Vivek told me how to get my comments working. Hopefully they work now.
As always, had a wonderful week in Philly. Got a little bored because once you start working, being jobless is frustrating! But I think I used my time constructively. I read a lot, am almost done with the Narnia book. It's alright, every story ends in a god-dammed fight where the good people end up saving Narnia. (wtf!)
Watched a lot of movies this week. And wrote a lot as well. I'm on a radar-- absorbing any new ideas, new tips, new words, everything to better my writing. I realized what was missing with my writing at the other blog- the kind of stuff I wrote about was "fluff" (in R's words) and there is only a limited vocabulary to use with such subjects. Now that the focus of my blog is not to show off my adv/marketing knowledge, I feel a little less strained and am able to write more about what moves me, but what will also move other readers. I have also greatly reduced reading other blogs because when I see a high number on their comment boxes, it makes me jealous! It makes me feel that my writing isn't as good. It makes me second-guess myself.
I am so silly! I don't even get this possessive about my boyfriend. When I was little I use d to get pissed when someone else said they loved writing. It used to piss me off coz I thought I was the only who could and should love writing!! Now I console myself saying, I love it more than others coz I've devoted/dedicated/use your own words/ my entire life to it. I am so silly! Nonetheless, I'm a brilliant writer, and SOMEONE who is doing something about it. So that's all that counts.
I will be writing for 2 Indian publications now! Yippiee! Now only of I can say that about America. I'm taking Finding Forrester with me to NY. Did I mention I'm going back to New York tomorrow? For 2 weeks, after which once again I'll be jobless unless by some divine providence, a job crops out or something else falls into place.
I am so broke, I panicked today. My boyfriend pays for me everywhere and wont take no for an answer. Nor will he cut down on things we do/places we go out to eat/or the quality of the lifestyle we have. It pains me and reminds me all the more why I should get a job real soon. I have something really cool planned for him once I start making money. I don't want to talk about it coz although he doesnt' read my blogs, you never know when he will!
I pray to God everyday now and work hard for it too- that I get a proper, fulltime, job. But I'm still so picky that I won't accept any altu-faltu job at an altu-faltu magazine. I want the top magazines, the top publishers and the top name.
Now I'm tired. It is 2am and I still have to pack. I leave at 6.30. R dearest is dropping me to the bus-stop.
As always, had a wonderful week in Philly. Got a little bored because once you start working, being jobless is frustrating! But I think I used my time constructively. I read a lot, am almost done with the Narnia book. It's alright, every story ends in a god-dammed fight where the good people end up saving Narnia. (wtf!)
Watched a lot of movies this week. And wrote a lot as well. I'm on a radar-- absorbing any new ideas, new tips, new words, everything to better my writing. I realized what was missing with my writing at the other blog- the kind of stuff I wrote about was "fluff" (in R's words) and there is only a limited vocabulary to use with such subjects. Now that the focus of my blog is not to show off my adv/marketing knowledge, I feel a little less strained and am able to write more about what moves me, but what will also move other readers. I have also greatly reduced reading other blogs because when I see a high number on their comment boxes, it makes me jealous! It makes me feel that my writing isn't as good. It makes me second-guess myself.
I am so silly! I don't even get this possessive about my boyfriend. When I was little I use d to get pissed when someone else said they loved writing. It used to piss me off coz I thought I was the only who could and should love writing!! Now I console myself saying, I love it more than others coz I've devoted/dedicated/use your own words/ my entire life to it. I am so silly! Nonetheless, I'm a brilliant writer, and SOMEONE who is doing something about it. So that's all that counts.
I will be writing for 2 Indian publications now! Yippiee! Now only of I can say that about America. I'm taking Finding Forrester with me to NY. Did I mention I'm going back to New York tomorrow? For 2 weeks, after which once again I'll be jobless unless by some divine providence, a job crops out or something else falls into place.
I am so broke, I panicked today. My boyfriend pays for me everywhere and wont take no for an answer. Nor will he cut down on things we do/places we go out to eat/or the quality of the lifestyle we have. It pains me and reminds me all the more why I should get a job real soon. I have something really cool planned for him once I start making money. I don't want to talk about it coz although he doesnt' read my blogs, you never know when he will!
I pray to God everyday now and work hard for it too- that I get a proper, fulltime, job. But I'm still so picky that I won't accept any altu-faltu job at an altu-faltu magazine. I want the top magazines, the top publishers and the top name.
Now I'm tired. It is 2am and I still have to pack. I leave at 6.30. R dearest is dropping me to the bus-stop.
My silly boyfriend
Published Friday, December 16, 2005 by Color/Light/Water.
"xxx"
I feel very well this morning. I will not be coming to work today."
-R
That is what my boyfriend wrote to his boss to call out from work on Wednesday. He didn't know about this until yesterday when his boss told him that had a good laugh on his account.
LOL
I feel very well this morning. I will not be coming to work today."
-R
That is what my boyfriend wrote to his boss to call out from work on Wednesday. He didn't know about this until yesterday when his boss told him that had a good laugh on his account.
LOL
About airports and Aunties
Published Tuesday, December 13, 2005 by Color/Light/Water.
Because I am at home, I chill at lot with G's mom. She's a very eloquent story-teller. She waves her hands, her eyes sparkle and her face twists in playful contortions as she repeats "dialogues" from her stories. An afternoon with her whiles away in no time!
Today she regaled me with stories about her experiences with the ariports world-wide. Mind you, she is a very well-travlled person and can be a vile Maratha woman that she is if not given the legit service and respect. Especially at airports.
Last year, on returning from America, her suitcase didn't arrive at the Bombay airport. When she tried reporting her missing luggage to the British Airways officials, the guy demanded Rs.1200 from her. Enraged, she raised her voice and created a ruckus at the airport that drew attention from other officials. They immediately came to her rescue, and promised to call her i 2 days when they had some news about her suitcase.
Three days and no call later, she called the BA office. They asked her to come to the airport the next day and identify her bag. They reached the said office at 9.30am , 30 minutes prior to their meeting. After being sent to a couple different floors, they finally found the BA office. The hallways were empty and stark and the only man (peon, officer?? no idea!) approached them spoke to them extremely politely and whispered secretively that they should get Rs.500 as a travel reimbursement. Auntiy and her son - finally glad to have found someone who actually knew what he was talking about asked the man to lead them to the exact BA office. After showing them to the door, the man coyly put forth his hand and chirped, "tip ma'am."
Aghast, and scared - coz the hallways were still empt, Auntie pulled out a 10 rupee note and before she could say anything, the man grabbed the note, "will do. will do," and disappeared.
So finally Auntie entered the office and waited there for another hour before she was called in the officers cubicle. The officer, treated this simple customer-service matter, like a business-deal and offered Auntie Rs.300 without so much as referring to her missing suit-case! Her patience on the test, Auntie once more, cool-headedly explained her situation and with a steelness in her voice demanded that the bag be delieverd to her house in Sion. At this- the officer bristled and said, we don't deliver- you have to take it yourself.
Being a world-class travler, she has been in these situations before and was aware that it is a BA policy to send missing luggage to the passenger's door-step. She requested the officer to not allow her to remind him of BA's rule. At which the officer insisted, it works differently here, you have to identify your bag first. Frustrated, Auntie agreed. Before leaving the office to go to the godown where all the missing luggage is kept- Auntie said to the officer, "Btw, you owe me Rs.500. not Rs.300. for the trouble I went through to come here."
The officer retorted, "it is only Rs.150 in a cab from Sion." And Auntie met his retort with an equally lethal one - "I took a Cool-Cab. What's it to you?" After much haggling, that Auntie didn't want to describe, the officer gave her Rs.450. (At this point, she sighed and cursed the Indians, nalayak hai sab.)
FastForward to the Godown. They heard a man weeping when they entered the godown. Now Auntie is also a very gentle soul, so she kindly enquired with the man who was weeping. His story was such - his brother was set to leave for America when he got a hear-attack and died on the airport. Now the luggage was already sent in and just to retrieve the luggage this poor man had to go through so much crap. "He had been shuffled around from one place to another for 4 hours." Auntie told me with a tinge of incredulity and abhorrence in her voice.
At the godown, she finally got her suit-case (she didn't tell me if anything was missing- that would be another story!) and swore and cursed the way back home.
Nalayak hai saab saale.
Today she regaled me with stories about her experiences with the ariports world-wide. Mind you, she is a very well-travlled person and can be a vile Maratha woman that she is if not given the legit service and respect. Especially at airports.
Last year, on returning from America, her suitcase didn't arrive at the Bombay airport. When she tried reporting her missing luggage to the British Airways officials, the guy demanded Rs.1200 from her. Enraged, she raised her voice and created a ruckus at the airport that drew attention from other officials. They immediately came to her rescue, and promised to call her i 2 days when they had some news about her suitcase.
Three days and no call later, she called the BA office. They asked her to come to the airport the next day and identify her bag. They reached the said office at 9.30am , 30 minutes prior to their meeting. After being sent to a couple different floors, they finally found the BA office. The hallways were empty and stark and the only man (peon, officer?? no idea!) approached them spoke to them extremely politely and whispered secretively that they should get Rs.500 as a travel reimbursement. Auntiy and her son - finally glad to have found someone who actually knew what he was talking about asked the man to lead them to the exact BA office. After showing them to the door, the man coyly put forth his hand and chirped, "tip ma'am."
Aghast, and scared - coz the hallways were still empt, Auntie pulled out a 10 rupee note and before she could say anything, the man grabbed the note, "will do. will do," and disappeared.
So finally Auntie entered the office and waited there for another hour before she was called in the officers cubicle. The officer, treated this simple customer-service matter, like a business-deal and offered Auntie Rs.300 without so much as referring to her missing suit-case! Her patience on the test, Auntie once more, cool-headedly explained her situation and with a steelness in her voice demanded that the bag be delieverd to her house in Sion. At this- the officer bristled and said, we don't deliver- you have to take it yourself.
Being a world-class travler, she has been in these situations before and was aware that it is a BA policy to send missing luggage to the passenger's door-step. She requested the officer to not allow her to remind him of BA's rule. At which the officer insisted, it works differently here, you have to identify your bag first. Frustrated, Auntie agreed. Before leaving the office to go to the godown where all the missing luggage is kept- Auntie said to the officer, "Btw, you owe me Rs.500. not Rs.300. for the trouble I went through to come here."
The officer retorted, "it is only Rs.150 in a cab from Sion." And Auntie met his retort with an equally lethal one - "I took a Cool-Cab. What's it to you?" After much haggling, that Auntie didn't want to describe, the officer gave her Rs.450. (At this point, she sighed and cursed the Indians, nalayak hai sab.)
FastForward to the Godown. They heard a man weeping when they entered the godown. Now Auntie is also a very gentle soul, so she kindly enquired with the man who was weeping. His story was such - his brother was set to leave for America when he got a hear-attack and died on the airport. Now the luggage was already sent in and just to retrieve the luggage this poor man had to go through so much crap. "He had been shuffled around from one place to another for 4 hours." Auntie told me with a tinge of incredulity and abhorrence in her voice.
At the godown, she finally got her suit-case (she didn't tell me if anything was missing- that would be another story!) and swore and cursed the way back home.
Nalayak hai saab saale.
Something new, something old, something borrowed, something stolen
Published by Color/Light/Water.
I've done something bad. And I don't think I have enough courage to admit it here on this blog and let everyone know of it. To get out of my system, I told it to R. But I've decided that I cannot live with myself knowing that I am capable of such pettiness, so the next chance I get, I am going to rectify my mistake. Godwilling, there will still be a chance to do that. Please pray for me. I have taken an oath that I will never repeat that mistake again. Ever. Please pray that I get to rectify it- it might not be too late. I can't live with this guilt.
***
I had a wonderful weekend, otherwise. (the bad thing I did kept haunting me but once I decided to undo it, it provided me temporary succor) I spent some really good time with my friends. One of my roommate S is going to India on Wed for the winter break. Today me and her talked for a few hours- assessing our relationships with the people around us and our friends. I realized that I had been wrong to judge S, the way I did. She's different, but I can see why now. I believe that once you understand the true reason why someone hurt you or treated you bad or just someone you didn't like - you cannot be mad at them anymore or judge them. People have layers and even after living with S for a few months, I was unaware of her depths and intelligence.
G's parents are visiting and have been staying with us. I love having people around. And this is what I LOVE most about being on my own- there are always people around. My friends. I cannot imagine living alone - or married. R took G's parents and us shopping on Saturday. And Sunday night- 6 of us jammed ourselves inside R's tiny Jetta and drove 2 hours to New Jersey to eat Indian-style chinese food! The bill was hefty but the food was worth it! Tonight, after a sumptous mealf of gujoo dal (which I didn't touch!) sweet suji dosas, gobi sabszi, puri and roti - I took G's parents and G for a gelato. We made it just in time as they were about to close. My sister tagged along as well - she's funny, I tell you. I think the ice-cream went to her head or she got high on the sugar in it and kept repeating in the car, "Don't talk to me now, I can't hear. I'm thinking of the ice-cream server." (he was cute!) She said it to G's mom and all of us laughed. My sis is a real cartoon sometimes. heh
***
A close friend M, who was supposed to come to Philly from LA next week - backed out last minute. And I'm sick of being the nice, understanding friend who'd also understand this situation and her reason for calling out a week before arrival. I just don't buy it and I believe it is incredibly rude and unfair of her to pull out this stunt and ruin what we've been planning for four years now. I can't help but think, this country has the power to change the weak-willed. It can make a mouse out of a tiger and draw water out of a desert.
***
I have another interview in NY this Thursday. With a magazine that I LOVE. Although it is not a permanent job, if I get it- hopefully I'll be assured a steady income for the next couple of months or atleast weeks! And rumor is such that this magazine pays well. Better than the one I'm with now. So, touchwood.
***
I like it that I can convey so much in so little words now! heh.
***
I had a wonderful weekend, otherwise. (the bad thing I did kept haunting me but once I decided to undo it, it provided me temporary succor) I spent some really good time with my friends. One of my roommate S is going to India on Wed for the winter break. Today me and her talked for a few hours- assessing our relationships with the people around us and our friends. I realized that I had been wrong to judge S, the way I did. She's different, but I can see why now. I believe that once you understand the true reason why someone hurt you or treated you bad or just someone you didn't like - you cannot be mad at them anymore or judge them. People have layers and even after living with S for a few months, I was unaware of her depths and intelligence.
G's parents are visiting and have been staying with us. I love having people around. And this is what I LOVE most about being on my own- there are always people around. My friends. I cannot imagine living alone - or married. R took G's parents and us shopping on Saturday. And Sunday night- 6 of us jammed ourselves inside R's tiny Jetta and drove 2 hours to New Jersey to eat Indian-style chinese food! The bill was hefty but the food was worth it! Tonight, after a sumptous mealf of gujoo dal (which I didn't touch!) sweet suji dosas, gobi sabszi, puri and roti - I took G's parents and G for a gelato. We made it just in time as they were about to close. My sister tagged along as well - she's funny, I tell you. I think the ice-cream went to her head or she got high on the sugar in it and kept repeating in the car, "Don't talk to me now, I can't hear. I'm thinking of the ice-cream server." (he was cute!) She said it to G's mom and all of us laughed. My sis is a real cartoon sometimes. heh
***
A close friend M, who was supposed to come to Philly from LA next week - backed out last minute. And I'm sick of being the nice, understanding friend who'd also understand this situation and her reason for calling out a week before arrival. I just don't buy it and I believe it is incredibly rude and unfair of her to pull out this stunt and ruin what we've been planning for four years now. I can't help but think, this country has the power to change the weak-willed. It can make a mouse out of a tiger and draw water out of a desert.
***
I have another interview in NY this Thursday. With a magazine that I LOVE. Although it is not a permanent job, if I get it- hopefully I'll be assured a steady income for the next couple of months or atleast weeks! And rumor is such that this magazine pays well. Better than the one I'm with now. So, touchwood.
***
I like it that I can convey so much in so little words now! heh.
A week in the life of a New York Reporter
Published Saturday, December 10, 2005 by Color/Light/Water.
Possibly the most wonderful week I have had in a long time (if you minus the 7 inch of snow, sharp, cold sleet, 30 minutes of walking to and fro to work and close to 3 hours of traveling in ridiculously uncomfortable NJ Transit buses)
I didn't take my Ipod with me to NY. That worst thing the Ipod has done is isolated people in lone-standing animals in a sea full of curios and fodder. I watch people waiting for bus, for subways, for cabs or simply waiting to cross the streets-- with the intensely visible white cords reaching somewhere in their bags or pockets, hiding the Ipods. I was one of those, until I realized there were more enjoyable and perhaps, englightening ways of utilizing that time. Street noise is beautiful. Whether it is the two honey-skinned brazilians singing duets on the assortment of strange, whimsical instruments they have-- or the Indian girl teaching her Portuguese friend english, pointing out to a limo and lip-synching to, "LI-MO-ZEEN"-- or the young teeanger on her way to the local ice-cream parlor with her father shrieking with delight on spotting a random Hollywood celebrity walking down the street --- Streets are a treasure. A live, pulsating, fabric of culture- as real as it gets!
I made new friends at work. Fun, hedonistic, pleasure-seeking women! The ambititous one of the batch is releasing her first novel in 2006. A couple of "desi" girls proud of their lineage. A random marketing agent at a real-estate firm. A couple of high-profile but very helpful editors... yum.
My computer at work needs to be cranked and re-started every hour. It can't handle certain sites- including all blogspot.com addresses! I've felt alienated from the blogosphere but very satisfied with my life.
I've also been hunting online for apartments in NY and have had absolutely zero luck. Why is it so hard to find a place to live?! Let me rephrase it- why is so hard to find something I can afford?
This week has reminded me of one of my favorite poems about New York. It is called Manahatta and was written in early 19th century by Walt Whitman. His words echo my sentiments and energy.
All the same, it is good to be back home for the weekend. It is good to be back with my friends, my roommates, my sister and my boyfriend. I listen to the radio every night as I fall asleep- even otherwise, it's always playing in my room. I like to sleep with music , otherwise I think too much and let my imagination race. Since the last month, I've been listening to a million Christmas carols every night. I am going to be a little sad when Christmas if finally over, tthere's something about this season... everyone is nice to each other, people smile without a reason and wish each other happy holidays. Bus drivers let me on even if I don't have the ticket, passengers let me get on first because I have so much stuff, little boys in wooly red hats give me their toothless grins, a beauitful angelic neice smiles slowly with recognition and jumps ecstatically with anticipation on seeing me... a much-missed sister stops brooding and feeling depressed because I am back.... a handsome, silly man feeds me, makes love to me and rubs my knotted back because it hurts me so.
on another side of this universe, a friend pines for love, another writes with hope and the third struggles with his dreams. It is. Still. a season of goodness, prayers and happiness.
I didn't take my Ipod with me to NY. That worst thing the Ipod has done is isolated people in lone-standing animals in a sea full of curios and fodder. I watch people waiting for bus, for subways, for cabs or simply waiting to cross the streets-- with the intensely visible white cords reaching somewhere in their bags or pockets, hiding the Ipods. I was one of those, until I realized there were more enjoyable and perhaps, englightening ways of utilizing that time. Street noise is beautiful. Whether it is the two honey-skinned brazilians singing duets on the assortment of strange, whimsical instruments they have-- or the Indian girl teaching her Portuguese friend english, pointing out to a limo and lip-synching to, "LI-MO-ZEEN"-- or the young teeanger on her way to the local ice-cream parlor with her father shrieking with delight on spotting a random Hollywood celebrity walking down the street --- Streets are a treasure. A live, pulsating, fabric of culture- as real as it gets!
I made new friends at work. Fun, hedonistic, pleasure-seeking women! The ambititous one of the batch is releasing her first novel in 2006. A couple of "desi" girls proud of their lineage. A random marketing agent at a real-estate firm. A couple of high-profile but very helpful editors... yum.
My computer at work needs to be cranked and re-started every hour. It can't handle certain sites- including all blogspot.com addresses! I've felt alienated from the blogosphere but very satisfied with my life.
I've also been hunting online for apartments in NY and have had absolutely zero luck. Why is it so hard to find a place to live?! Let me rephrase it- why is so hard to find something I can afford?
This week has reminded me of one of my favorite poems about New York. It is called Manahatta and was written in early 19th century by Walt Whitman. His words echo my sentiments and energy.
All the same, it is good to be back home for the weekend. It is good to be back with my friends, my roommates, my sister and my boyfriend. I listen to the radio every night as I fall asleep- even otherwise, it's always playing in my room. I like to sleep with music , otherwise I think too much and let my imagination race. Since the last month, I've been listening to a million Christmas carols every night. I am going to be a little sad when Christmas if finally over, tthere's something about this season... everyone is nice to each other, people smile without a reason and wish each other happy holidays. Bus drivers let me on even if I don't have the ticket, passengers let me get on first because I have so much stuff, little boys in wooly red hats give me their toothless grins, a beauitful angelic neice smiles slowly with recognition and jumps ecstatically with anticipation on seeing me... a much-missed sister stops brooding and feeling depressed because I am back.... a handsome, silly man feeds me, makes love to me and rubs my knotted back because it hurts me so.
on another side of this universe, a friend pines for love, another writes with hope and the third struggles with his dreams. It is. Still. a season of goodness, prayers and happiness.
City lights... neon nights....
Published Tuesday, December 06, 2005 by Color/Light/Water.
I just realized the comments function doesn't work on my blog - I'll try to figure it out.
Welcome to the city! The adventures are just begining....
What do you write?
Published Sunday, December 04, 2005 by Color/Light/Water.
In a creative writing class I once took, a friend wrote, "When I was 17, I thought I knew it all. When I was 20, I was sure I had it figured all out. Now I'm 22, and I have no clue about anything."
It wasn't a self-aggrandizing rhapsody she made up to gain a better grade. Itwas is the solemn truth that leads the catacombic battles of our lives.
After four years of journalistic reporting, it is hard for me to waste words. I don't know how good or bad that is, but I have dissuaded myself from circumventing and wasting precious words to communicate.
I am a simple person. Beauty moves me. Colors, light, water and sound enchant me. There's love in my life and little struggles that remind me how cherished I am. I have dreams, most of which I am living or on my way to achieving. I have another blog where I write about stuff that interests me. So when I return to this blog, religiously, every night - I stare at the blank screen scratching my head wondering what I should write.
I think, when you are in a comfortable spot, the area around your mind gets all warm and fuzzy. So cozy that you don't really want to move from there. Some of my most poignant writing came when I was living alone in NY last year under terrible conditions. Before that, I could write up a whale when I was so completely bewitched by my lonliness and desolate-ness. And now, my life is fabuluous. Absolutely, fantastically, fabulous. So what do I write about?!
Maybe I can put up a prayer, wish well for all the people in my life and request God to keep them safe and happy. Even then, a (wonderful!) uplifting spirit/voice tells me that even if things were to change with my life and it wasn't to remain so fabulous - I still wouldn't have much left to talk about!
Round and round, I keep concluding this one thing : Nothing lasts forever in life and if something does, it isn't meant to be questioned.
The kind of writing that comes out of pure, unadulterated happiness is something no one wants to read. But thats how my life is - and let me stress on the fact (yes, it is a fact) that I have earned it. I have given/sacrificied/spent/ - pick your choice of word - 4 years to loudly, happily, claim that I need a bouncy, new, soft mattress and a strong, unattainable challenge to live for- just so that I can write about it!
I have become a very rational and practical person over the years. There won't be any sob-fests here. There won't be any soul-shattering, deeply touching, life changing blog entries here. But you are welcome to visit if you want to share my adventures/surprises/missives/expectations of living in fascinating cities, with amazing friends and a sexy career!
It snow-dropped (snowdrops are not completely snow and not completely rain, somewhere undefined, in between the two consistencies!) in Philly, btw. I have a beautiful view from my window where I can see shiny cars in the parking lot bathed in the ethreal yellow glow of the street-lights and blanketed in a thin sheet of powdery snow. As it melts, the car windows glisten in the night-light and endear the view to me even more.
Cira center- a new building adorning Philly's skyline (that looks like it came out straight out of Altantic City's purple-lit Borgata casino) stays awake with me at nights. I type, read and write. And the building throws off little blue pellets of it's dancing lights that reflect on my glass windows.
Let the fabulous-ness begin!
It wasn't a self-aggrandizing rhapsody she made up to gain a better grade. It
After four years of journalistic reporting, it is hard for me to waste words. I don't know how good or bad that is, but I have dissuaded myself from circumventing and wasting precious words to communicate.
I am a simple person. Beauty moves me. Colors, light, water and sound enchant me. There's love in my life and little struggles that remind me how cherished I am. I have dreams, most of which I am living or on my way to achieving. I have another blog where I write about stuff that interests me. So when I return to this blog, religiously, every night - I stare at the blank screen scratching my head wondering what I should write.
I think, when you are in a comfortable spot, the area around your mind gets all warm and fuzzy. So cozy that you don't really want to move from there. Some of my most poignant writing came when I was living alone in NY last year under terrible conditions. Before that, I could write up a whale when I was so completely bewitched by my lonliness and desolate-ness. And now, my life is fabuluous. Absolutely, fantastically, fabulous. So what do I write about?!
Maybe I can put up a prayer, wish well for all the people in my life and request God to keep them safe and happy. Even then, a (wonderful!) uplifting spirit/voice tells me that even if things were to change with my life and it wasn't to remain so fabulous - I still wouldn't have much left to talk about!
Round and round, I keep concluding this one thing : Nothing lasts forever in life and if something does, it isn't meant to be questioned.
The kind of writing that comes out of pure, unadulterated happiness is something no one wants to read. But thats how my life is - and let me stress on the fact (yes, it is a fact) that I have earned it. I have given/sacrificied/spent/ - pick your choice of word - 4 years to loudly, happily, claim that I need a bouncy, new, soft mattress and a strong, unattainable challenge to live for- just so that I can write about it!
I have become a very rational and practical person over the years. There won't be any sob-fests here. There won't be any soul-shattering, deeply touching, life changing blog entries here. But you are welcome to visit if you want to share my adventures/surprises/missives/expectations of living in fascinating cities, with amazing friends and a sexy career!
It snow-dropped (snowdrops are not completely snow and not completely rain, somewhere undefined, in between the two consistencies!) in Philly, btw. I have a beautiful view from my window where I can see shiny cars in the parking lot bathed in the ethreal yellow glow of the street-lights and blanketed in a thin sheet of powdery snow. As it melts, the car windows glisten in the night-light and endear the view to me even more.
Cira center- a new building adorning Philly's skyline (that looks like it came out straight out of Altantic City's purple-lit Borgata casino) stays awake with me at nights. I type, read and write. And the building throws off little blue pellets of it's dancing lights that reflect on my glass windows.
Let the fabulous-ness begin!
Cars, cricket and new york
Published by Color/Light/Water.
Some days we remember for the rest of our lives. Like the day you bought your first car.
The man I am in love with bought his first car today - from this own money. It was a proud day.
Our friends and us dined at a beautiful little Italian restaurant tucked into the quiet folds of Spruce and Locust Street. A large, water-colored mural of the Positiano coast covered one side of the wall and the rest of the walls were painted a soft olive shade, shadowed by the overhead lights.
The food was excellent - we've been having great luck with eating out these days. We talked about relationships, frat parties and cars over warm toasted bread dipped in balsamic vingear and olive oil.
Today something else happened. I found an old friend who's also moving to the big city and we decided to do it together. We've set a date to move as well: 1st january. We will literally start our new year and new careers in a new city: New York! (too much "new" just happened in this sentence!)
The men smoked their Dominican cigars and got light-headed and giggly later. The women reveled in the smoke and let it go to their heads. We end up playing cricket in the empty living-room. My sister and I fought and I watched some more Lost.
That, summed up my Saturday.
I've moved so many times that I don't do the ritualistic "last weekend, last saturday, last day" celebrations anymore. Nothing is that big a deal, esp. not movnig cities. New York is so close to Philly - and now that my man has a car (with heated seats!) I have no qualms about moving and no dreads about traveling back to Philly every weekend.
Besides, there will always be a home here for me. In the heart of my friends.
The man I am in love with bought his first car today - from this own money. It was a proud day.
Our friends and us dined at a beautiful little Italian restaurant tucked into the quiet folds of Spruce and Locust Street. A large, water-colored mural of the Positiano coast covered one side of the wall and the rest of the walls were painted a soft olive shade, shadowed by the overhead lights.
The food was excellent - we've been having great luck with eating out these days. We talked about relationships, frat parties and cars over warm toasted bread dipped in balsamic vingear and olive oil.
Today something else happened. I found an old friend who's also moving to the big city and we decided to do it together. We've set a date to move as well: 1st january. We will literally start our new year and new careers in a new city: New York! (too much "new" just happened in this sentence!)
The men smoked their Dominican cigars and got light-headed and giggly later. The women reveled in the smoke and let it go to their heads. We end up playing cricket in the empty living-room. My sister and I fought and I watched some more Lost.
That, summed up my Saturday.
I've moved so many times that I don't do the ritualistic "last weekend, last saturday, last day" celebrations anymore. Nothing is that big a deal, esp. not movnig cities. New York is so close to Philly - and now that my man has a car (with heated seats!) I have no qualms about moving and no dreads about traveling back to Philly every weekend.
Besides, there will always be a home here for me. In the heart of my friends.
Meme 2
Published Saturday, December 03, 2005 by Color/Light/Water.
10years ago it was 1995, and I was:
12 years old and in the 7th grade.
I had a boycut.
I wore weird long T-shirts and lose, colored pants. (ew)
Was trying too hard to belong to a certain group of girls.
Was caught singing in an empty classroom and told by the prinicpal that I should be singing on stage.
12 years old and in the 7th grade.
I had a boycut.
I wore weird long T-shirts and lose, colored pants. (ew)
Was trying too hard to belong to a certain group of girls.
Was caught singing in an empty classroom and told by the prinicpal that I should be singing on stage.
5 years ago it was 2000, and I was:
17 years old, and attending Mithibai College, Bombay
Still in love with my first love S.
Skipping classes and struggling to keep up with Physics and Math.
Enrolled in dramatics.
Studying for SAT's
Looking forward to life.
1 year ago it was 2004, and I was:
21 years old, living in the Philly
Very close to graduation.
In love
Looking fabulous, as I had started to lose weight
Loving my life, my friends, my family and my self
Yesterday I:
Was 22 years old.
Spent all day with my 7-month old neice, Sarah.
eating home-cooked meals that my room-mates mom cooked. (her parents are visiting)
Watching 'Girl in Rio' with my close friend Resham
Squealing in joy about scoring another interview in NY
Fielding calls for sublets
5 Songs I know all the words to:
"Bhagee re Mann" - Chameli
"Durr" - Strings
"Awara Bhavre" - Sapnay
"Drops of Jupiter" - Train
"A whole new world" - Aladin
Pay of my loans, his loans and my sister's loans
Give half of it to my parents.
Give a part of it to someone who wants to start a school like Totto-Chan's
Invest.
5 places I would love to visit:
Tokyo- Japan
Barcelona- Spain
Istanbul- Turkey
Santorini- Greece
Alaska- in time for the Northern Lights
5 things I would never wear:
Mis-matched clothes
Obnoxiously expensive jewelry
Super-tight pants
Micro-mini skirts
Dull colors
5 favorite tv shows:
Lost
Desperate Houswwives
Everybody loves Raymond
Sex and the City
random shows on TLC and Food Network
5 bad habits:
Interrupting peopleThinking too much
5 biggest joys:
R.
Working
Family
Shopping
A big fat paycheck
Fashionable in NYC
Published by Color/Light/Water.
I was in NY for an interview with a magazine on Wednesday. I felt so alive, so good, walking the familiar streets of Sixth Ave. A cute guy asking for charity flirted with me, hoping I'd give him some cash. Heh. I walked five blocks around Rockefellar center to look for the tiny chocolatiere for R. I don't like chocolates but the man I love is a sucker for chocolates. I carefully selected the very best macaroons and little artisan chocolates with raspberry, ginger and coffee fillings from La Maison Du Chocolat. I was so tempted to add the Maroon Glaces to my little brown bag... yumm, roasted chestnuts!
On my way to interview I spotted the much touted Mishaa store on 5th Ave. Mishaa is a very famous Korean beauty company. Their products are inexpensive and supposed to work well. I bought a green-grape face scrub for my sister and some samples for myself. I was super-psyched!
Oh what a wonderful day it was! My interview went well but I didn't "feel" the place so I'm not sure if I want to work or belong to that environment. But the good news is, I will start working "freelance" at a top fashion magazine in New York this Tuesday! It pays me so much money an hour that it makes me goggle-eyed and gold-fish surprised. I will now have money to do laundry, to buy food and to pay my loans. And buy new clothes, new shoes, a nice, comfy bed and a gorgeous silk caftan to sleep in.
I dream of a full refrigerator - with my plastic tubs of yogurt, mangola bottles, Amul butter, Danon's Peach Passion smoothies, stacks of Malaysian parathas, the $1.99, Mirch Masala Kofta Curry packets, crusty golden hasbbrowns, fresh ginger, garlic and cilantro. Yumm. The shiny red plum tomotoes from Trader Joes and portobello mushrooms. I also want peppers of every kind: red, yellow and green. And a small bucket of Pecan Butter ice-cream.
YUM.
On my way to interview I spotted the much touted Mishaa store on 5th Ave. Mishaa is a very famous Korean beauty company. Their products are inexpensive and supposed to work well. I bought a green-grape face scrub for my sister and some samples for myself. I was super-psyched!
Oh what a wonderful day it was! My interview went well but I didn't "feel" the place so I'm not sure if I want to work or belong to that environment. But the good news is, I will start working "freelance" at a top fashion magazine in New York this Tuesday! It pays me so much money an hour that it makes me goggle-eyed and gold-fish surprised. I will now have money to do laundry, to buy food and to pay my loans. And buy new clothes, new shoes, a nice, comfy bed and a gorgeous silk caftan to sleep in.
I dream of a full refrigerator - with my plastic tubs of yogurt, mangola bottles, Amul butter, Danon's Peach Passion smoothies, stacks of Malaysian parathas, the $1.99, Mirch Masala Kofta Curry packets, crusty golden hasbbrowns, fresh ginger, garlic and cilantro. Yumm. The shiny red plum tomotoes from Trader Joes and portobello mushrooms. I also want peppers of every kind: red, yellow and green. And a small bucket of Pecan Butter ice-cream.
YUM.
In search for Totto-Chan
Published Friday, December 02, 2005 by Color/Light/Water.
For those who passed out from SSC schools, does anyone remember the story of a little Japanese girl, Totto-Chan, in the 7th standard english textbooks? It was the story of Totto-Chan who opend and closed her desk and disturbed her class, who called out the street musicians and who talked to swallows. She was expelled for being a child.
So her mother took her to a school that housed it's students in old railway compartments. The teacher asked the students to bring 'something from the ocean, something from the hill' for their lunch and the head-master let the boys and girls swim naked in the swimming pool to dispel curiosity, shame and insecurity about their bodies.
Ofcourse the story was only one chapter from the book. But yesterday I found the book at Barnes and Noble. There was only one copy left. I sheepishly remembered seeing the copy wedged between two fat tomes 1) Japanese Popular Culture (which I have) and 2) The story of 3 generations of a Japanese family. (which I don't want) , several months ago. I didn't have the money to buy the book then. Not that I had it now, but I had managed to return two books and I used to exchange money to buy Totto-Chan and The Little Prince.
After I finished reading the Little Prince, I had only one desire- to have read it and understood it in French, in the language it was written in, in the language it was meant to be read in. The translations, no matter how good, fuck up a book. There are certain sensibilities for which there are no definitions or literal words in english. Like the Italian "bella figura" or the japanese "kenji."
Returning to Totto-Chan- this little girl made an impact on me when I was in 7th grade because I felt like her. I didnt' really fit in in my only girls school. I was too... brazen and unlike other girls. I got sent to the Principals office for calling a friend, 'sex-bomb.' I had teachers I absolutely detested, except maybe one who I held in respect. I was curious about many things but was made fun of and laughed at when I acted upon then. I was made fun of in the entire class when I had shaved the hair off one of my hands just to see what it felt like to have no hair. That was the first time I used a razor - I was in 7th, I think. (After that I waxed directly in 10th grade) I was laughed at because I wasn't "in tune" when singing 'A whole new world' when all I wanted to do was sing! I didn't care if I was good at it!
Now that I got the chance to read the entire book- I find myself wishing I went to Tomeo school. Where the children were free to be themselves. Where their actions, curiosities and ideas were not questioned. Where the teachers belonged, because they really loved teaching- not because they needed a job to bring money home.
The book is called, "The Little Girl by the window." it is written by Tetsuko Kuroyangi. It is a true story. And a school like Tomeo, did exist. And hopefully, still exists somewhere far from the prying eyes of media.
So her mother took her to a school that housed it's students in old railway compartments. The teacher asked the students to bring 'something from the ocean, something from the hill' for their lunch and the head-master let the boys and girls swim naked in the swimming pool to dispel curiosity, shame and insecurity about their bodies.
Ofcourse the story was only one chapter from the book. But yesterday I found the book at Barnes and Noble. There was only one copy left. I sheepishly remembered seeing the copy wedged between two fat tomes 1) Japanese Popular Culture (which I have) and 2) The story of 3 generations of a Japanese family. (which I don't want) , several months ago. I didn't have the money to buy the book then. Not that I had it now, but I had managed to return two books and I used to exchange money to buy Totto-Chan and The Little Prince.
After I finished reading the Little Prince, I had only one desire- to have read it and understood it in French, in the language it was written in, in the language it was meant to be read in. The translations, no matter how good, fuck up a book. There are certain sensibilities for which there are no definitions or literal words in english. Like the Italian "bella figura" or the japanese "kenji."
Returning to Totto-Chan- this little girl made an impact on me when I was in 7th grade because I felt like her. I didnt' really fit in in my only girls school. I was too... brazen and unlike other girls. I got sent to the Principals office for calling a friend, 'sex-bomb.' I had teachers I absolutely detested, except maybe one who I held in respect. I was curious about many things but was made fun of and laughed at when I acted upon then. I was made fun of in the entire class when I had shaved the hair off one of my hands just to see what it felt like to have no hair. That was the first time I used a razor - I was in 7th, I think. (After that I waxed directly in 10th grade) I was laughed at because I wasn't "in tune" when singing 'A whole new world' when all I wanted to do was sing! I didn't care if I was good at it!
Now that I got the chance to read the entire book- I find myself wishing I went to Tomeo school. Where the children were free to be themselves. Where their actions, curiosities and ideas were not questioned. Where the teachers belonged, because they really loved teaching- not because they needed a job to bring money home.
The book is called, "The Little Girl by the window." it is written by Tetsuko Kuroyangi. It is a true story. And a school like Tomeo, did exist. And hopefully, still exists somewhere far from the prying eyes of media.