You tweak, twist and turn your life until you find the exact setting you want it to have. The right people, the right job, the right city - your love, your family, your peeps and your work. Life feels full, like it may be going somewhere. And then, there is that emptiness.

Yesterday I was arranging my books in the my new IKEA bookshelf. Emptying torn boxes on the carpet, dismissing the books in three piles: trash, front-row, back-row. Then there was that book. Printed and binded, a copy of my diary entries from 2000 - 2002. And there were more. Fat expensive hard-cover Archies notebooks I had purchased with stolen money from my Mum's purse because I wanted pretty books to write in. Tomes of poetry that documented broken hearts, faded dreams and golden nostalgia. It hurt me to read the lines. And when I did read, I couldn't go on much further because I was afraid to learn what I would find in those pages. I was afraid of remembering again the people I was close to, the people I had loved and the people I had not cared for in my past. I was afraid of throwing myself in that world of forgotten smells, conversations and people's voices. Because if I am being honest right now - I still, still, remember the nature of those days: from the sounds and the colors to the smell of the rains and hoot of the rickshaw. And it only causes me pain.

Not because I miss the past so much, but because my present is so different from my past that nothing links me back to it and I feel like I may have lost it forever.

I am on Orkut and I bump into these people I shared I large chunk of my life with. 10 years of school. And I stare blankly at their profiles and pictures now. I cannot remember being close to them, I cannot recognize them. I am unsure of how to view the little time together I had with them. Is that time enough to rekindle a friendship? Is that time enough to bridge the gap of distance and age?
More often than not -- it is not enough.

I often ask myself, if I left India too soon. If I should have finished undergrad in India. I have no regrets because at that time, it was the best decision and the right one to make. But in hindsight I wonder -- what if? Would I be closer to the people I left behind?

Why can't making friends be as simple as, "Hi, I'm Me. Would you like to be my friend?"

It has been difficult for me to forge the same kind of close friendships here. Partly because I can't seem to trust people, partly because we don't have the time or inclination to build enough history together that will sustain a lifetime of friendship. And also because in my head, I keep looking for the same kind of friends I had in India, knowing-well that it is impossible.

Reading those diaries put me in an uncomfprtable place and I had to shut them. I piled them in the back-row section and hid them behind my books about Wines, roman history and advertising. My past, did not belong to my present.

I miss having a friend. Life is different here. It's not better or worse. Most of my growing up happened here in Philadelphia. Even though I lived in Bombay for 18 years, sometimes I just draw a blank. My memory of those 18 years, feels like old photographs watered down with rust and rain. Hazy, unreal. But my memory of the last 5 years here is vivid. Painful and proud.

I remember visiting Goa before I left for America. I sneaked out alone to the sea late at night. I wanted to stand infront of the pitch dark sea and feel insignificant. I wanted it to frighten me. And it did. In the inky darkness, as I stumbled back to my room, running away from the roaring sea-- I felt as docile and defenseless as a lamb. I knew a strong wave could sweep me away and that would be the end of my dreams, promises and questions.
And somehow, knowing that put me to sleep that night. A silent, dreamless sleep that I craved.

I'm glad I still know that.

Sometimes the monotony of life grips you so tightly that to break away from it's wooziness, would be akin to a victorous sense of freedom. Only if you can break free of it.

My presentation with the CEO of this bank went so well that he emailed me 5 hours later offering me a job. I had hoped for it but hadn't anticipated it.
The CEO didn't know I was only 23, he started laughing when he found out. After hearing my presentation he said, 'I've read that there are three kinds of people in business. The rule makers, the rule followers and the rule breakers." He continued, I think you are a rule-breaker." I blushed. It was a compliment!

Later this weekend, I got a call and I was told ," Enjoy this weekend if you can. relax if you can, because on monday your life is going to change."

***

I'm ready. I'm finally ready to get rid of my inertia. This week I may be signing a lease to my own 1-bedroom apartment in the city. I will also begin car-shopping. I also made a personal oath to take my finances and debt under control. From being the 23 year old bumbling ambitious achiever, I've gone to being the 23 year old who's about the change the banking industry. If I fail, it will be a spectacular failure. If I win, it will be a spectacular win. But. I'm ready.

FUCK!

That bitch.

I'm fuming right now as I type this. That bitch I wrote about who stole my idea, got her idea featured in press today. I want to tear her hair out and I don't know --- just pack her up and send her off to Timbukto or someplace for a few years.
I kicked myself on my head AGAIN. They've snagged a major seller with that idea and if nothing worked for them before this -- this certainly shall, atleast to push their fuking site into some major popularity contest.

Dude, I don't know what to say or do. This is cut-throat business. I keep telling myself that I can't be nice. I need advice though -- I am going to meet her at an event next week and should I tell her how she stole my idea or should I pretend nothing happened?

I am being so petty by bitching about her here. But I can't tell you how deeply she's gottn under my nerve. Her's is the only blog I check a few times a day. and that too out of spite and jealousy. kinda to make sure she hasn't become the next anna wintour or the next whofukinever. It would be silly to allign my standards against her, but this one is just one fat, bumbling wannabe who is just as aggressive and ambitiious as I am. I take that personally. Two people cannot occupy a single pedastal. And although we are in no way working in a similar industry , it is a personal mission of mine to far surpass her.

IEnough of venting. out to set the record straight now.

that I cringe at the thought of my parents living alone.

R woke me up early with news that tehre were bomb blasts in bombay. this isn't an alien word- we grew up with bomb blasts as a normal everyday occurence in bombay. only, we belonged to the sector that remained untouched by the fairness of such events. "it cannot happen to us," was what I believed growing up.
But being a million miles or 24 hours away from family and your memories, can make you vulnerable and teach you that you really are not invincible. indestructible.

you are, as is your family, as are your friends- liable to death at the hands of strangers, just as anyone else is.

My immediate circle of family is safe. And I pray to God that my friends are safe too. But what about the ones who aren't?

Know what worries me most about death and murders? It's not the ones who die that suffer. It's the ones they leave behind. My closest school friend's Dad was killed in a train accident. His body was cut into 4 pieces and it lay there soaking the concrete with blood and vestiges of life. It was 5 years ago and the wounds are still raw for my friend and her family.

I don't know death. I wrote about my grandmothers death here. It was one year to her death anniversary and I didn't even remember it. It didn't matter to me. I don't know if she is still alive in my head or whether this is something my mind rejects thinking about. But her death was peaceful, we knew it was coming and we knew that it came with the promise that she lived a wholesome life and was ready to pass on.

BUT- what about the wife who had dinner ready for her husband who never returned today ? What about the child who anxiously was waiting for his mum to get back from work so he could show her his homework? What about them? About the people who didn't know death was coming for their beloveds. No absolutions, no last chances to make up after a fight, no last chance to feed the one who died his favorite kheer.

***

GodSpeed Bombay, Godspeed.
I pray for you.

6 Weird/Signature things about me:
- I don't like chocolates, cereals or peanut butter
- Can survive on fruit smoothies.
- I am incredibly quick with work and other stuff. What takes others 5 hours, takes me 2.
- Oblivious to the obvious
- People piss me off only when they infringe my pesonal territory: tangible, intangible or someone I love.
- Fall asleep in anything that moves: cars, planes, trains, buses. But can stay up all night working.
- Laughter is a word my friends associate with me.
- Cannot take romantic movies anymore.

I don't know anything else that can be classfied weird about me.
Do you think that when you say something too often, it comes true? Its like you want it to happen but aren't sure it will happen so you keep releasing that thought in the universe and everything works for you and your thought becomes a reality.
In a psych class once my teacher taught me to draw a heart and write I AM in it. And around it write things that I aspire, that I want and my ambitions. She said, writing them makes them tangible and sets it down. In my experience, it has always worked. I remember Coehlo makes the same point in the Alchemist.

Ambitions can be dangerous. A couple months ago I met with two bloggers who were working on a new business plan/ community idea. They wanted me on-board but I didn't get good vibes from one of the bloggers. A girl, my aged, who had earned a dcent amount of press for blogging live at an event.
But in naivette and the excitement, I agreed to be a part of their endeavor (pulled out a few weeks later) but I also shared my plans of an idea I was working on. It was just a healthy discussion.. bouncing ideas.. telling them why I thought my idea would work and would be super..

What happens last week? Those buggers stole my idea and incorporated it on their website/ business venture! I was enraged, but you know-- what can I really hold them responsible for? That girl-- is just a smart business women. I can rant on about ethics and integrity, but dude-- if you want to survive as an entrepreneur, you've gotta be looking out for for your best interest. I'm just stupid to have revealed my ideas and stupider for not having worked on them befroe these nutcases. Oh well. I did feel a sting of jealousy and repent. I was annoyed at the guts this girl had to steal my idea and make it her own. Right down to the tee. But what to do now? Just be careful in the future and eliminate her from the competition. And its not like that was the last idea I'll ever have. :S

As I learn the ropes of working for myself, I realize the finer nuances of being your own boss. It is a fine line. When there's a choice between furthering your business and sticking to integrity - what would you pick?
I think this is going to be the most difficult question to answer as I move further with my dreams. Hopefully, the answers will come gracefully.

Ok. thats it. More business lessons as I learn them.

My birthday was fantastic. My sister gifted me a makeover at a super slinky salon. It took the salon lady 2 hours to color my hair, and I nearly fell asleep on the chair as she worked on my hair. I wanted maroonish/ mahoganyish highlights but my hair artist convinced me that I need copper with a very slight tinge of gold would suit my skintone better. And lo behold -- I become one of those desi wannabe's I've despised with brown skin and fake/ blondelike hair. I was upset. but what the fcuk -- cant do anything now.
My dad and my sis loved it. And R is so sly, even when I was 30 pouds heavier than now, even when I have a shittyass color on my hair -- he never said anything negative! He said, He liked it but he wouldn't want it forever. Weird.
But now that the color is waning, it looks better. Its not a shiny mop of gold spun on my crown anymore.. looks more natural now and I think it will look really good once it starts fading in a week or so.

My birthday dinner was fun as well. I bought a perfect dress and I deliberately bought a navy blue dress so that R's pendant would go with it :P
I looked very purty!

My parents left on Saturday and its terribly lonely without them but thank god for excessive work. My mind doesn't ruminate much. Once my job situation is a little more stable, my mum and dad plan on coming here for a few years. I'd like them to too.

For the long weekend, the four of us, me, R, my sister and A (ber boyfriend) took a trip down to DC. It was SO much fun! I think after all that drama with our parents, btoh our bfs kinda needed some time off. We stayed at the Hiltons for dirt-cheap rates (thanks to hotels.com!) and rented a car. Georgetown was amazing -- my sis and I spent 4 hours shopping that pissed off our bfs and they left us and walked away! We had to treat them to dinner to get their moods back in shape. My sis and I found beautiful beautiful shell pink satin bedsheets at a store in Georgetown. Ofcourse we bought them.

The highlight of our trip was walking up and down the Exorcist steps. (remember where the priest is thrown off from?-- yes, those stairs are in georgetown) It was so spooky! A wanted something to happen--but thank fukin god nothing happened. I am a sissy when it comes to ghosts and the inexplicable.

Our last day we drove to baltimore and paid $25 to see disgusting multi-colored frogs and beautiful dolphins at the aquarium there. I was a little too harsh-- no, it was actually fun and worth the money. We reached Philly on time but were stuck for 2 hours, only 2 blocks away from our building becoz of the july 4 celebrations. it was soo annoying-- i had had a little sake and 3 pills, so I was completely delerious. we just laughed and got pissed off at the drivers infront of us.

it was a fun, fun time.
and its back to work now. back to tripping between NY and Philly.
R has had a stroke of bad luck at work. last year his H1 visa didnt go thru coz the quota was filled. Teh same shit happened this year. He is a little stressed abt his situation, but he spends little time in wallowing and feeling bad about stuff he can't help. He already has a plan b in order.
at times like these, i feel bad.. almost a little guilty becoz i have a greencard and have to worry about nothing. he can't do what he really wants to do becoz of the fukin visa situation. yes, i could marry him in a jiffy and everything would be fine but he has a point. he said, we are both still trying to figure out our lives and ambitions and if we throw marriage in that mix-- it may not last.
its sad but it is true. I admire him for being so practical even in the distress. i love him so much. i'm positive it will work out for him. for the best.

my big presentation is next week. i am confident, but the i keep feeling i shouldve done more. i guess thats normal?
hopefully!
orkutting is so addictive. damn. i met so many people i had lost touch with. scary! i need to get off it now.