Licensing should be included in the scheduling efforts..
I wish I had never come back from the redwood forests.. I am sure I have left something unexplored apart from the beach, the mountains, unseasonal snow, giant trees.. :?
Sameera, note down scope freeze points as a parking lot issue..
I wonder where we parked when I visited the Highest Road of Asia..I cannot recollect the name though :? I am sure it starts with "K".. Khardungla
Getting so many people for training in Helms will be a challenging issue.. the road to Helms is deadly..
I remember puking my guts out on the ghat roads of Darjeeling.. oh we spot a tiger in the open Tead gardens! and also remember the sikkim pass.. arghh I forgot the name.
This is where I flipped to the last page of my OfficeMax Subject Notebook and started chalking out the places I visited so far in my life of 24 years.
- Andhra Pradesh: Hyderabad, Tirupathi, Vijaywada
- Tamilnadu: Madras, Mahablipuram, Kanya Kumari
- Maharashtra: Shiradi, Bombay, Nasik
- Punjab:Patiala,Chandigarh and Ambala
- Leh/Ladakh
- West Bengal: Siliguri, Darjeeling, Calcutta
- Kathmandu
- Delhi/Agra
- Kerala: Ernakulam, Kanyakumari
- Gujarat: Surat,Baruch
- NYC, NY
- Durham, NC
- Raliegh, NC
- Charlotte, NC
- Atlanta, GA
- Miami, FL
- Orlando, FL
- St Petersberg, FL
- Midland,MI
- Detroit, MI
- Smoky Mountains, TN/NC
- Asheville, NC
- Charleston Beach, SC
- Clemson University, SC
- Wilmington and Carolina Belt, NC
- Myrtle Beach, NC
- Sacramento, CA
- Napa Valley, CA
- San Francisco, CA
- Pebble Beach, CA
- Redwood National Forest, CA
- Auburn, AL
- Cookeville, TN
- Dallas, TX
- Boston, MA
I plan to write about my experiences at every place I visited that I remember. This should give me enough work for the rest of the year.
Sameera, can you prepare the PMI verification tables for change and schedule knowledge areas too???
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Quarterly Report
So, first quarter of 2010 is already over. This goes back to my post "Again!!!". Just a quick check to see where do I stand on my thoughts for the rest of 2010.
- Still good on no processed foods and coffee cuts. Yoga and Cardio?? - what's that :|
- Home Design.. quiet proud of my room right now :). Have a look
- Obsession with red and green - My room is all red.. Gardening.. This is the first time I thought about it after I wrote it the last time.
- The books are going on my wish-list as the complete editions of Astrix and Tin-tin are just too much for my budget right now.. I do think about them everyday though. I couldn't hold myself back from buying Milan Kundera's "The Joke" and Charles Darwin's "Theory of Evolution", so that is two more books on the already huge pile I have - pending reading.
- Still good on no processed foods and coffee cuts. Yoga and Cardio?? - what's that :|
- Home Design.. quiet proud of my room right now :). Have a look
- Obsession with red and green - My room is all red.. Gardening..
- The books are going on my wish-list as the complete editions of Astrix and Tin-tin are just too much for my budget right now.. I do think about them everyday though. I couldn't hold myself back from buying Milan Kundera's "The Joke" and Charles Darwin's "Theory of Evolution", so that is two more books on the already huge pile I have - pending reading.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Printemps
She could hear the shrill whistle of the bombs dropping. She closed her eyes tightly, but it was impossible for her to shut out the vision of what was happening all around her. The sky was ablaze, and she was deafened by the sounds of the automatic fire weapons, roaring planes, and the thump of deadly mortar shells. Huge mammoth structures were collapsing as if they were mere dust and terrified people were running in every direction, trying to outrace death.
From somewhere a voice was reverberating in her ear drums,’ are you alright miss?’
Slowly she opened her eyes in disbelief. She had faced hardships before but was never so close to death.
‘Miss—are you alright?’
She was in the ambulance when she gained consciousness. ’Yes, I am fine. Thank you. ‘
Inadvertently blinking, she came to senses with the man’s shrilly voice. ‘Wait a minute! You are the famous reporter of WBC. I watch you on television every night’. It must be very exciting for you to cover this war?’
‘Yes.’ Her throat was dry. She really couldn’t make out how one can find covering a war exciting. She was on her reporter duties at the war stuck Taliban. In her short visit, she saw people blowing to shreds, seen bodies of babies thrown down wells, and bits of human jetsam flowing down a river of red. It made her sick. The bombing and shelling had finally stopped. She was surveying the aftermath effects of the war - the physical and emotional destruction.
She was in an orphanage where small kids were looking at her with eyes filled with desperation to meet their parents. Some of them had lost their limbs and some were lost in thoughts. A small girl pulled her cloak and asked’ are u going to take me to my parents?’.
The caretaker told Sana that the girl lost her whole family and their was no one claiming her. Sana hugged her tears rolling out of her eyes.
And suddenly she was back in her own past.
‘Oh! Mama, lemme go, why do you always embarrass me? I am grown up mama.’
‘Do I? oh baby I am sorry ,next time I will see to it that I stop myself from hugging you every time I drop u to school’
‘You promise?’
Yes of course I do dear, now get going u are already late for the school. Bye
And she never got a loving hug from her mother again.
Memories flashed across her mind like a huge callous tide, receding and exploding spasmodically whenever she was let free for herself. But she was not going to break down so easily by emotional hurdles. She had learnt it the hard way and she was going to fight it the hard way. She was Sana Denver.
Sana was barely nine when she lost her mother in an accident. Her father took Sana to a boarding school. Sana was waiting outside the office while her father was in conversation with Sister Agnes regarding Sana’s admission.
Sana loved her father as much as she liked her mother though he had not returned a peck of gratitude towards her. She dint mind of course as she knew that he was a busy man. She was terrified at the idea of learning in a boarding school but was relieved on learning that on public holidays she could be back home with her father.
‘Sister Agnes was very happy Sana. She says she would be glad to admit u. behave like a nice girl’ and Mr. Hudson left.
‘Come in child. I am sure u will love it here. U will have lots of friends. Mr. Hudson is very kind. He tells me that he found you when he was on his usual holiday trips in the back countries and felt agonizing pain when he came to know of your ill fate. But as u see. He is quite busy he left u here’
Sana gave a shocking glance at the sister and then simply stared at her baggages as if trying to find words in a muted world and reconciled herself thinking that Sister Agnes must have misinterpreted her father assuring herself that she was going to see him this Christmas.
‘Oh come on girl. I have got other works to do’.
Sana struggled to keep her pace with the sister, double taking her steps. The journey to her room seemed endless.
And then she saw the huge emblem of a cross and below it was a caption in glaring red “ST. PETERS ORPHANAGE”.
Sana had believed her life was over. The orphans institute was a nightmare for her or rather she thought it was. She missed her mother a lot and felt excoriating pain when she thought about her. The strict routine bothered her even more. She listened to the agonies and heart touching stories of other orphans and thanked god for whatever she was now. At least she had the comfort of home shelter and the security of having a father, though she was not expecting him to come to her.
At two o’clock every Friday afternoon, the boys and girls would line up as prospective foster parents arrived to evaluate them and select one to take home. As each Friday approached, the excitement and tension among children rose to an almost unbearable pitch. They would wash and dress neatly, and as adults walked along the line, each child would inwardly pray to be chosen.
Every Friday was the same, but Sana would still wait hopefully as the adults examined the line of candidates. But they always picked other children. Standing there, ignored, Sana would be filled with humiliation. It would always be someone else, she thought despairingly. No one wants me.
Sana wished desperately to be a part of a family. She tried everything she could think of to make it happen. One Friday she would smile brightly at the adults to let them know what a nice, friendly girl she was. The next Friday she would pretend to be preoccupied with something, showing them that she didn’t really care whether she was chosen or not, and that they would be lucky to have her. At other times she would look at them appealingly, silently begging them to take her home with them. But week after week, it was someone else who was taken away to wonderful homes and happy families.
Miraculously, one day as usual, she smiled at the couple who seeked to adopt a girl.
The only thing she knew was that Mr and Mrs Scott were happy to adopt her. The orphanage was overrun by children and perhaps the staff wee too busy to check the credentials of the couple. Within three days Sana was sent to be part of the family of Mr and Mrs Scott.
She had only known their surnames but what she dint know was a looming ill-luck was following her. There was no Mr. and Mrs Scott. The two of them harassed Sana to death and then she realised that they were traffickers who sold Sana to a brothel.
This was the last thing on earth she had expected to happen. She was arrested in a dark room with faintly anything visible and could hear voices from outside. All she could make out was that she was the scapegoat and the customers were bargaining the price of the scapegoat. Somehow Sana was not as frightened as she had anticipated. She was engrossed in the lacerations and deep cuts which were tearing her apart. Fate had been wrong with her for so many years but she was used to it now and she had learnt at the orphanage that right things happen at the right time, and she was waiting for the right time to arrive.
Sure it did. Before Sana could become the victim of the evil human desires she was set free. The brothel was raided by the police accompanied by a non profit agency aimed at improving the lives of ill fated girls like Sana. From then on Sana spent her days at the reformation camp, went to school and struggled all along her life and is living on her own as a renowned journalist.
‘Excuse me maam but you are hurting me’ cried the girl. Sana frisked the child out of her grips and asked her what she wanted to become when she would grow up. ‘I will become a doctor. All my friends here are sick but there is no doctor to take care of them’. And the girl looked into Sana’s eyes and for a moment she thought she was looking at herself, the girl fifteen years back who was waiting eagerly to be adopted. And she could listen to the silent appeals of the girl asking Sana to take her away from this hell. As if it was understood between the both, the girl said ‘my name is Renée. My mom used to say that it means rebirth’.
Would u like to come with me? We will have a nice time together.
Renee plunged her arms across Sana and then she felt the same warmth she had felt the last time she hugged her mother and told Renée ‘right things happen at right time! Don’t they?
Renee smiled at Sana and said’ sure they do’.
From somewhere a voice was reverberating in her ear drums,’ are you alright miss?’
Slowly she opened her eyes in disbelief. She had faced hardships before but was never so close to death.
‘Miss—are you alright?’
She was in the ambulance when she gained consciousness. ’Yes, I am fine. Thank you. ‘
Inadvertently blinking, she came to senses with the man’s shrilly voice. ‘Wait a minute! You are the famous reporter of WBC. I watch you on television every night’. It must be very exciting for you to cover this war?’
‘Yes.’ Her throat was dry. She really couldn’t make out how one can find covering a war exciting. She was on her reporter duties at the war stuck Taliban. In her short visit, she saw people blowing to shreds, seen bodies of babies thrown down wells, and bits of human jetsam flowing down a river of red. It made her sick. The bombing and shelling had finally stopped. She was surveying the aftermath effects of the war - the physical and emotional destruction.
She was in an orphanage where small kids were looking at her with eyes filled with desperation to meet their parents. Some of them had lost their limbs and some were lost in thoughts. A small girl pulled her cloak and asked’ are u going to take me to my parents?’.
The caretaker told Sana that the girl lost her whole family and their was no one claiming her. Sana hugged her tears rolling out of her eyes.
And suddenly she was back in her own past.
‘Oh! Mama, lemme go, why do you always embarrass me? I am grown up mama.’
‘Do I? oh baby I am sorry ,next time I will see to it that I stop myself from hugging you every time I drop u to school’
‘You promise?’
Yes of course I do dear, now get going u are already late for the school. Bye
And she never got a loving hug from her mother again.
Memories flashed across her mind like a huge callous tide, receding and exploding spasmodically whenever she was let free for herself. But she was not going to break down so easily by emotional hurdles. She had learnt it the hard way and she was going to fight it the hard way. She was Sana Denver.
Sana was barely nine when she lost her mother in an accident. Her father took Sana to a boarding school. Sana was waiting outside the office while her father was in conversation with Sister Agnes regarding Sana’s admission.
Sana loved her father as much as she liked her mother though he had not returned a peck of gratitude towards her. She dint mind of course as she knew that he was a busy man. She was terrified at the idea of learning in a boarding school but was relieved on learning that on public holidays she could be back home with her father.
‘Sister Agnes was very happy Sana. She says she would be glad to admit u. behave like a nice girl’ and Mr. Hudson left.
‘Come in child. I am sure u will love it here. U will have lots of friends. Mr. Hudson is very kind. He tells me that he found you when he was on his usual holiday trips in the back countries and felt agonizing pain when he came to know of your ill fate. But as u see. He is quite busy he left u here’
Sana gave a shocking glance at the sister and then simply stared at her baggages as if trying to find words in a muted world and reconciled herself thinking that Sister Agnes must have misinterpreted her father assuring herself that she was going to see him this Christmas.
‘Oh come on girl. I have got other works to do’.
Sana struggled to keep her pace with the sister, double taking her steps. The journey to her room seemed endless.
And then she saw the huge emblem of a cross and below it was a caption in glaring red “ST. PETERS ORPHANAGE”.
Sana had believed her life was over. The orphans institute was a nightmare for her or rather she thought it was. She missed her mother a lot and felt excoriating pain when she thought about her. The strict routine bothered her even more. She listened to the agonies and heart touching stories of other orphans and thanked god for whatever she was now. At least she had the comfort of home shelter and the security of having a father, though she was not expecting him to come to her.
At two o’clock every Friday afternoon, the boys and girls would line up as prospective foster parents arrived to evaluate them and select one to take home. As each Friday approached, the excitement and tension among children rose to an almost unbearable pitch. They would wash and dress neatly, and as adults walked along the line, each child would inwardly pray to be chosen.
Every Friday was the same, but Sana would still wait hopefully as the adults examined the line of candidates. But they always picked other children. Standing there, ignored, Sana would be filled with humiliation. It would always be someone else, she thought despairingly. No one wants me.
Sana wished desperately to be a part of a family. She tried everything she could think of to make it happen. One Friday she would smile brightly at the adults to let them know what a nice, friendly girl she was. The next Friday she would pretend to be preoccupied with something, showing them that she didn’t really care whether she was chosen or not, and that they would be lucky to have her. At other times she would look at them appealingly, silently begging them to take her home with them. But week after week, it was someone else who was taken away to wonderful homes and happy families.
Miraculously, one day as usual, she smiled at the couple who seeked to adopt a girl.
The only thing she knew was that Mr and Mrs Scott were happy to adopt her. The orphanage was overrun by children and perhaps the staff wee too busy to check the credentials of the couple. Within three days Sana was sent to be part of the family of Mr and Mrs Scott.
She had only known their surnames but what she dint know was a looming ill-luck was following her. There was no Mr. and Mrs Scott. The two of them harassed Sana to death and then she realised that they were traffickers who sold Sana to a brothel.
This was the last thing on earth she had expected to happen. She was arrested in a dark room with faintly anything visible and could hear voices from outside. All she could make out was that she was the scapegoat and the customers were bargaining the price of the scapegoat. Somehow Sana was not as frightened as she had anticipated. She was engrossed in the lacerations and deep cuts which were tearing her apart. Fate had been wrong with her for so many years but she was used to it now and she had learnt at the orphanage that right things happen at the right time, and she was waiting for the right time to arrive.
Sure it did. Before Sana could become the victim of the evil human desires she was set free. The brothel was raided by the police accompanied by a non profit agency aimed at improving the lives of ill fated girls like Sana. From then on Sana spent her days at the reformation camp, went to school and struggled all along her life and is living on her own as a renowned journalist.
‘Excuse me maam but you are hurting me’ cried the girl. Sana frisked the child out of her grips and asked her what she wanted to become when she would grow up. ‘I will become a doctor. All my friends here are sick but there is no doctor to take care of them’. And the girl looked into Sana’s eyes and for a moment she thought she was looking at herself, the girl fifteen years back who was waiting eagerly to be adopted. And she could listen to the silent appeals of the girl asking Sana to take her away from this hell. As if it was understood between the both, the girl said ‘my name is Renée. My mom used to say that it means rebirth’.
Would u like to come with me? We will have a nice time together.
Renee plunged her arms across Sana and then she felt the same warmth she had felt the last time she hugged her mother and told Renée ‘right things happen at right time! Don’t they?
Renee smiled at Sana and said’ sure they do’.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Randomness
I really don't know what to write. All I know is that I want to write. Everyday I think of jotting down something interesting about something I have been thinking about but I never actually get a chance to do so. As soon as the first sentence is typed the rest is lost in my imagination. The end result is always strikingly different from what I actually set out to write. So, this time I thought I will just keep typing whatever is going in my mind - "real time". Quiet interesting isn't it?? This reminds me of the book "Catcher in the Rye" or may be I think the title reads "Catcher of the Rye". Anyways the point is that the book is a classic example of free will writing. The book goes on about the random encounters of a teenage boy and his totally disconnected thoughts. I was overwhelmed by the narration of the young boys racing thoughts whose name I cannot recollect.
This brings me to ponder at the capabilities and incapabilities of a human mind. Left to imagination its one of the most beautiful things ever. So many thoughts running simultaneously in such a short span of time just amazes me. This is the very reason I enjoy my dreams. I love the dreamland - It is one thing on which I have the sole control on. Only I can define the stream but I have no control whatsoever on what direction the stream takes. I am amazed at the complexity of my dreams and the script is no less than the artistic skills of the writer of the movie "The imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus". The movie is spell binding. For me it was as if I were sitiing and watching my own mind when it is left to itself. The only difference is that my dreams are often hazy, the movie on the other hand is crystal clear, thanks of course to the technologies I can't even name.
At some point, I was very concerned about my abilities to remember my dreams fresh as they had happened almost everyday. Its not very common as I found out (not from a concrete source but from the experiences of the few people around me). The matter of concern was not my dreaming but the fact that you are said to have incomplete and half sleep cycles which leaves you exhausted in the mornings. I don't know why I did not try to find any remediation for this problem. I stopped thinking too much about it. And what more, I like to have the pallet of colorful dramas in my head (may be not so colorful as all of them always seem to retain the same haziness as if watching through a glass full of water). I somehow believe that it makes me the person I am. It influences my thinking, creativity and my life.
As I said before, I had no idea what this blog was turning out to be. But I have a feeling that when I am done, I won't be disappointed. :)
This brings me to ponder at the capabilities and incapabilities of a human mind. Left to imagination its one of the most beautiful things ever. So many thoughts running simultaneously in such a short span of time just amazes me. This is the very reason I enjoy my dreams. I love the dreamland - It is one thing on which I have the sole control on. Only I can define the stream but I have no control whatsoever on what direction the stream takes. I am amazed at the complexity of my dreams and the script is no less than the artistic skills of the writer of the movie "The imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus". The movie is spell binding. For me it was as if I were sitiing and watching my own mind when it is left to itself. The only difference is that my dreams are often hazy, the movie on the other hand is crystal clear, thanks of course to the technologies I can't even name.
At some point, I was very concerned about my abilities to remember my dreams fresh as they had happened almost everyday. Its not very common as I found out (not from a concrete source but from the experiences of the few people around me). The matter of concern was not my dreaming but the fact that you are said to have incomplete and half sleep cycles which leaves you exhausted in the mornings. I don't know why I did not try to find any remediation for this problem. I stopped thinking too much about it. And what more, I like to have the pallet of colorful dramas in my head (may be not so colorful as all of them always seem to retain the same haziness as if watching through a glass full of water). I somehow believe that it makes me the person I am. It influences my thinking, creativity and my life.
As I said before, I had no idea what this blog was turning out to be. But I have a feeling that when I am done, I won't be disappointed. :)
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Again!!
Calendar check.. It's a new year again. Stretching skin, blobbing body, dark circles, stability, responsibility, maturity, interest in things which once were seemingly uninteresting - all signs of the grand finale of a wonderful teenage. Yes, I will turn 24 this year. Year 2009 was a crucial year for me which I did not realize until it was finally close to an end. I have changed quiet a bit in terms of personality, speech, outlook and knowledge. I guess I can call the year a 'transformation terminal' which mostly turned out to be fairly well for me. The interesting part of all this was how I developed certain interests and hobbies.
I look at all the married woman and I swear to myself not to let myself appear that way almost every second of my day. This leads to my obsession with healthy food and exercise although I haven't started anything concrete yet because of my random schedule away from home in recent dates. I am trying to stay away from anything unnatural as much as possible. Breakfast bars, processed food, fast food etc. The good news is I don't have to force myself to do so, I just like living in an archaic way. I can still not keep myself away from chocolates and aloo fry. Yoga and cardio are top priority for the new year for me. I was able to reduce drinking to a great extent this year and I am learning to keep myself away from a cup of coffee I have everyday at work. This in a way has become a hobby - being healthy!
I have started developing a lot of interest in home design, so unlike the shopping malls where I find myself out of place, I can spend hours in Ikea or crate n barrel. It is kind of ironic as in this year I did not spend much time at my apartment. 70% of my time is either at work or travelling or at some plush hotel or at someone else's place. I believe its because of the yearning for coziness and 'feel home' feeling. Also, I can spend hours thinking of that perfect home that matches my grandparents house. That's worth another blog. Let's say that I like being in the older simpler times.
I have somehow acquired a great obsession with the colors green and red this year. Why red? I cannot think why. Fresh green takes me into a trance. When I was a kid my father always used to drag me out of the bed in the mornings and made me stare at the vegetation in our small kitchen garden. It did make me feel fresh, I still do. So, when my boss asked me what do I want to do once I retire, I impulsively said I want to farm. So I have decided that I will start with gardening and give it a shot in my 900sq ft apartment. Gardening it is!!
I feel at loss when people make conversations about their childhood readings and comics. I stuck with chacha choudary, tinkle, champak and readers digest as a child. I like stories and fiction and reading so it should't be hard for me to finish the classics. I am very much looking forward to it. My first adventure would be all the series of Asterix followed by Tin Tin. I am somehow not inclined to Nancy Drew (I did read a few when I was in college :P). Suggestions are hugely appreciated. Chip in!!. I am also gonna hold myself not to buy any books until I finish the books that I bought last year. Books Aye!
That pretty much sums up most of my targeted hobbies/interests/goals for this year.
Some good things about the year: I am finally getting used to living an independent single life. I can go to a restaurant alone and eat alone without feeling overtly conscious of the fact that I am the lone warrior holding the fort. Strengthened bonds with my family virtually, I feel much more closer to home than ever even though I am miles apart. I have developed a thought process mostly based on reasoning and aftereffects and it seems to be working great for me. I have strengthened my beliefs on the non-existence of the super power, fate, destiny and other such non quantifiable words in the dictionary. I seemed to be motivated by great people in the likes of Nandita Das, Barkha Dutt, Annie besant, Amartya Sen, Yonus Khan, Salman Rushdie and Darwin to name a few. Although I can still not generate/participate in discussions -intellectual readings, books on history and magical realism is something I have discovered as one of my interests this year.
I may have lost the most rosy things of teenage but on a brighter side I am a much more confident woman now. I strongly believe I will never be able to change the basic person I am although I might develop a new perspective every once in a while. I am inherently the same People! but officially deemed to be a woman - you can throw the girl term away :)
I look at all the married woman and I swear to myself not to let myself appear that way almost every second of my day. This leads to my obsession with healthy food and exercise although I haven't started anything concrete yet because of my random schedule away from home in recent dates. I am trying to stay away from anything unnatural as much as possible. Breakfast bars, processed food, fast food etc. The good news is I don't have to force myself to do so, I just like living in an archaic way. I can still not keep myself away from chocolates and aloo fry. Yoga and cardio are top priority for the new year for me. I was able to reduce drinking to a great extent this year and I am learning to keep myself away from a cup of coffee I have everyday at work. This in a way has become a hobby - being healthy!
I have started developing a lot of interest in home design, so unlike the shopping malls where I find myself out of place, I can spend hours in Ikea or crate n barrel. It is kind of ironic as in this year I did not spend much time at my apartment. 70% of my time is either at work or travelling or at some plush hotel or at someone else's place. I believe its because of the yearning for coziness and 'feel home' feeling. Also, I can spend hours thinking of that perfect home that matches my grandparents house. That's worth another blog. Let's say that I like being in the older simpler times.
I have somehow acquired a great obsession with the colors green and red this year. Why red? I cannot think why. Fresh green takes me into a trance. When I was a kid my father always used to drag me out of the bed in the mornings and made me stare at the vegetation in our small kitchen garden. It did make me feel fresh, I still do. So, when my boss asked me what do I want to do once I retire, I impulsively said I want to farm. So I have decided that I will start with gardening and give it a shot in my 900sq ft apartment. Gardening it is!!
I feel at loss when people make conversations about their childhood readings and comics. I stuck with chacha choudary, tinkle, champak and readers digest as a child. I like stories and fiction and reading so it should't be hard for me to finish the classics. I am very much looking forward to it. My first adventure would be all the series of Asterix followed by Tin Tin. I am somehow not inclined to Nancy Drew (I did read a few when I was in college :P). Suggestions are hugely appreciated. Chip in!!. I am also gonna hold myself not to buy any books until I finish the books that I bought last year. Books Aye!
That pretty much sums up most of my targeted hobbies/interests/goals for this year.
Some good things about the year: I am finally getting used to living an independent single life. I can go to a restaurant alone and eat alone without feeling overtly conscious of the fact that I am the lone warrior holding the fort. Strengthened bonds with my family virtually, I feel much more closer to home than ever even though I am miles apart. I have developed a thought process mostly based on reasoning and aftereffects and it seems to be working great for me. I have strengthened my beliefs on the non-existence of the super power, fate, destiny and other such non quantifiable words in the dictionary. I seemed to be motivated by great people in the likes of Nandita Das, Barkha Dutt, Annie besant, Amartya Sen, Yonus Khan, Salman Rushdie and Darwin to name a few. Although I can still not generate/participate in discussions -intellectual readings, books on history and magical realism is something I have discovered as one of my interests this year.
I may have lost the most rosy things of teenage but on a brighter side I am a much more confident woman now. I strongly believe I will never be able to change the basic person I am although I might develop a new perspective every once in a while. I am inherently the same People! but officially deemed to be a woman - you can throw the girl term away :)
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Free Fall
So, I am driving back home from work listening to the title song of 'kaminey'..the song goes on to tell about this man, everything and everyone around him including himself at some time is a kamina - worthless rascal..I couldn't agree more..I feel like that most of the times these lazy days and I like it in a way.. it makes me appreciate anything and everything in the world.. and if you are wondering would I ever write about nicer positive things, yes, I will talk about nicer things but just not yet..
So, yes, I am driving back home and I realise how much I love the solitary time to myself, confided in the small 4-door, continuously rattling 98 corolla as if shaking its body to the rythym old music system, noisy air condition and screeching breaks!.. I get a sense of lightness, of escape, of free will, as though I am falling, falling from the sky, the lightness of being nothing.
I am driving on a slope now. I keep falling on the steep slope inside the confinement, hurdling towards I don't care what, I am too happy to care.. OH! how I wish it wouldn't stop!! how I wish I just kept falling.. and then I see the solid wall of a red brick building apporaching and a pump my breaks, lawfully halt at the stop sign, wait for three seconds, look left and then right and make a turn and continue on the road home.
So, yes, I am driving back home and I realise how much I love the solitary time to myself, confided in the small 4-door, continuously rattling 98 corolla as if shaking its body to the rythym old music system, noisy air condition and screeching breaks!.. I get a sense of lightness, of escape, of free will, as though I am falling, falling from the sky, the lightness of being nothing.
I am driving on a slope now. I keep falling on the steep slope inside the confinement, hurdling towards I don't care what, I am too happy to care.. OH! how I wish it wouldn't stop!! how I wish I just kept falling.. and then I see the solid wall of a red brick building apporaching and a pump my breaks, lawfully halt at the stop sign, wait for three seconds, look left and then right and make a turn and continue on the road home.
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