NP: With or without you

I spent my early 20s, those 3 years in Delhi, listening to this song (with the rest of Joshua Tree album) day in and out. Just the hint of sound from this song takes me back to those days.

I think this was also my first album purchase. It lived and died in my first (and only) portable music player :)

Today…

I decided that I like Lexi Grey more than Meredith Grey. I like Lexi. I tolerate Meredith. I hate Alex Karev.

To complete my day’s floor goal, I walked up the steps to the unused first floor a few times after dinner.

I think the boy is bored of hugging me. 20+hours a day may be too much even for him.

I missed home. I missed childhood.

I hated myself for not having any friends.

I reminisced about a day in London, when we walked about on the South Bank, having a drink at a pub, standing out by the river. Back in the happy days.

I had a dream about a girl I went with on a date many years ago. I started reading her blog again recently but the boy is about her new life. The dream was about the time we knew each other, and this common friend we met through.

I watched 8 episodes of Grey’s Anatomy.

I didn’t run. I didn’t meditate.

I finished the book. I started another one. This one’s depressing. But it has promise of a better ending. It has a dog.

It’s now been 5 days since I had any non-transactional human interaction. It’s also 5 days since my last workout. It’s 5 days since we had a day without persistent rain and grey skies. And maybe 4 days since I wasn’t terribly lonely and depressed. It’s also 4 days since I had any coffee, Coke zero, peanut butter, or milk chocolate.

I couldn’t break my frozen chapatti into half. It broke into 3. I had to eat the whole chapatti. At least it made a good pie chart.

I just learnt that there’s no spinning class on Monday, nor any yoga class on Tuesday. Easter weekend. There go my one good IRL human interaction opportunities for next week.

Tomorrow is our – me and the boy – last day by ourselves. Tomorrow evening, Dudley arrives for a fortnight’s stay with us. Then a few days later, R returns. Hope the scotch, Grey’s anatomy, and my books last till then.

Mama

My grandmom. She passed away today.

She had 93 long years. She lived a happy childhood – second of 5 sisters and 1 brother in a happy household. She married happily, to a handsome man, in to a rich family. She lost almost everything in partition, turned into a nearly penniless refugee far away from home, her families split across states. She brought 5 children into the world, but lost her husband and the eldest to the country I live in. They needed to earn to get the rest of family up off their knees. She raised her kids, educated them, got them married, moved towns, made a new house, had grandchildren, saw them grow up, move out. She had her husband return home, to finally live with her, after 30 years. She, they, fell in love again. They lived a few happy decades, again. Then he cheated her again, dying in his sleep while she was terminally ill. She was always the stronger one. She survived, she strived, she smiled, and kept her huge family together. She’d been ill for over 8 years. She’d been first declared “about to die” 5 years ago. He’s been gone 7 years.
Her eldest left too, slipping away from her while in this cold land halfway across the world. She couldn’t see him, in death, like in much of her life. Yet, she lived on. She didn’t fight anything anymore, but she never understood giving up either.

Today, finally she left us. Long after most of her body had given up. Long after many of her senses had stopped working. Long, long after the doctors thought she would go. Long after we went from dreading her death, to celebrating her life.

They’ll be happy together, up there. Sharing jokes, scheming, gossiping, hugging when no one’s watching.

Thank you, Mama! For being the strongest person I’ve known. And for being that, living like that, with a beautiful smile and an unparalleled spirit. For saving me from dad’s beatings, and papaji’s scoldings. For spoiling me with your pinnis and paronthis. And for that ₹100 and mishri you quietly placed in my hand every time I left home.

Enjoy, wherever you go, Mama. And give papaji a kiss on the cheek from me.


Continue reading Mama

Peppy music, warm days, and the Apple invasion

The day began well, with me polishing off a few long-pending long posts in my Pocket. The walk got delayed, due to reasons coming below, but was a brisk, happy one when it came.

Thank you for the music

One of those rare days when I felt like listening to music on the walk. Not sure about what to play, just asked Google to play a random playlist of songs I like. It was fun!

  • Vangelis’ Chariots of fire theme,
  • Rolling in the deep, by Adele,
  • The man, by Aloe Blacc,
  • Hello, by Adele,
  • All cried out, by Blonde,
  • Peace on Earth, by Bing Crosby & David Bowie,
  • Khalbali, from Rang de basanti
  • Rumour has it, by Adele
  • Eko ile, by Fela Kuti & the Africa 70,
  • Feel, by Bombay bicycle club,
  • Kandisa, by Indian Ocean
    and continuing…

Charlie (a young Vizsla), and Monty (a forever young Jack Russel) wrestling each other to get more attention from me, halfway through the walk, just added to the delight.

Rarely have I returned from a hot weather, brisk walk so energised. (The brisk bit, and the protein smoothie may have helped too)

Warm, dry, dull days of my youth

The region of India I grew up in has a long, dry and hot summer. 2 decades of living there have trained my brain to expect (imagine) things when the weather turns warm and dry. Like today.

Thoughts of watermelon, cool water dips in tube wells & canals, hanging with friends from undergrad, cycling around with the only friend from my first school, smell of the earth.

Beautiful, torturous memories :)


Continue reading Peppy music, warm days, and the Apple invasion

Logic & Probability theory v/s Ma & her Gods

She: If everything works with logic, then why can’t it predict what happens next.

Me: Logic doesn’t mean if this then that. It means if this, then that, that, that or something else, with a probability defined by this function.

She: Your probability function is just an excuse to not accept God. I’ll accept logic when it can tell me what happens next. Till then, I’ll go with my God.

Me: And you wondered why I started smoking!

(Just another conversation with Ma many years ago, that just came rushing back while reading something)