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.
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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.