Up in the Air

Date: 16-17-18 December 2012 (depends on which time zone I should follow while some 40,000 ft up in the air, in between continents and whether or not I have the energy to add or subtract silly hours.)

Place: Read above.

Time: Ditto

(Somewhere in constant motion, above a constantly moving earth – is where date, place and time have a threesome?)

I am still in the plane. Still 4 hours to go before I reach my destination –  London. I have been communting since last night and its already evening in Delhi - the place I started from. Travelling 5-6 hours back in time has its advantages. No matter how late your flight is, how much you have to wait at the airport, no matter how much sleep you have lost – you will still be arriving earlier than you would have expected. However, that is not what this post is about.

For so long I had been sitting, itching to type but didn't wanna make the effort to pull out the laptop and really do it. Because there isn't much space around me, and secondly, I don't really enjoy jotting down most uncomfortable of times – grief, gloom, tears and pain I can write pages upon pages about – it's the physically uncomfortable that I can't write much on.

But then – while watching a crazy movie (my third on this flight) I just started to write – in the head.. and it came out beautifully. Wishing to capitalise on the moment, I lunged for my bag, took out the laptop case, extracted the laptop from its case, sat up straight and here I am typing away 'feeling important' – the memory of what I was writing (in the head) having completely wiped off.

Nevermind, the laptop is here now. I will wait to return.

by the way.

And on a regular note - I bought myself an overcoat today. A khaki colored coat with a furry hood. I am sure it will keep me warm - and if it doesn't well, there is Zara and there is a discount. Gosh, I hate shopping so much that I fooled myself into eating a plate of papri chat just so that I could procrastinate a little more in the mall today. Shopping alone has its benefits. No one to judge you. I also bought a winter hat/cap, it looks cute in a fuzzy sort of way. London is freezing I am told.

My tickets for Arusha, Tanzania are done. And the trip is for longer duration than I had thought. I will be gone for good 7-8 days. Reach Arusha over three connecting flights and come back via two other. Upon return I am to pack again for Bombay and plan on staying put. Before that I would be staying in some part of Delhi for 2-3 days for orientation into the fellowship program.

Oh yea, did I mention? I won the Maternal Health Fellowship jointly awarded by Harvard University and Maternal Health Task Force. Hence, the London and the Tanzania and the Bombay. Gee. 

Lb ju.

exeunt omnes!

Not a shred is left. Not a word. Not a syllable that we existed. Is it that we love our selves so much or the fact that we essentially don't? Or is it the necessary absolutions of our people infested lives that some have to, just have to go? Sometimes they walk out themselves and at times we would have pushed them out and banged the door shut. Either way we suffer. No matter which side of the stage we find ourselves at the end of the play, it is all just the same.

This is not a piece wrote in any of the extreme emotions we are wont to feel at moments like these. In fact, I am surprisingly cool. It is just emptiness that's staring back at me. A strange emptiness - not the hollow kinds - but the kind that fills every nook and crevice of my daily life. The emptiness is all-encompassing, taking up all space there ever was, beautiful in itself and tranquil. Yes, it is very quiet and still.

Or is it simply that I am talking much more to myself, now that the noise (yes you!) is no more? 

I am such a hopeless brute, I am even enjoying this, right now, here.

sprawl scrawl

I am in bliss. True bliss..drunk in sunshine on my rooftop.hardly being able to write..but each part of me feels so soft and nurtured..like a newborn babe. Im so blissfully dizzy in a sleep that only sunlight and warmth can make possible. im sprawled on a thick blanket doubled up to give me some comfort and my body is covered from head to toe with ma's warm shawl..making me my own warm Eden..i can hardly open my eyes - i am that cosy -  but i am feeling supple and well slept.

The morn saw me get up early..snuggle upto ma..it being hers and my dads wedding anniv (35th!) after which I laced up my shoes..wore myfav puma trackpants with a jacket on top and went for a run. Twelve rounds and an hour later I returned home to have a shower, my breakfast and laze around and now I am on the rooftop .. with my book.. sleep now and then replacing the book..off come my glasses and I lumber on with my seista. Lovely lovely Delhi winter it is - best spent on lazy rooftops..sprawled and comforted - nothing could tear me apart from my drowsy heaven! muah!

Sent from Samsung Mobile

Home

There are times like these that the influx of all that needs to be put down on paper itself hinders the flow of words. There is then no train of thoughts, but an explosion of selfsame conclusions - some formed, some unformed, some stillborn, some deformed - elastic in style - the mumbo jumbo of a clogged mind.

And yet the love for writing brings me here. I yearn to write till my nib bleeds, my fingers ache, my mind is cured - till I can hear no more of the senseless din - till my chaos begins to make sense, take shape and bring to me a sense of accomplishment that only few care for. Of all those I have loved, its writing that's never failed me. May be because I never stopped loving it. I am aware though that even as I fill this canvas with words, I am hardly saying anything. May be thats the idea. May be I am not ready yet.

I love you my blog, my haven, my refuge, my holiday, my work, my shelter, my sanctuary, my burrow, my faithful home!

curled

It looks like a shoddy piece of patchwork, my life. In some other time I would have found beauty in any miscellany. Right now I just wanna lie curled up in my bed and close my eyes. I have forgotten to write poetry. Something I so enjoyed. I no more have the courage or the hope for it. I wish to go away somewhere far, too far from even myself. But pity we can't leave our past behind. And then, I am tired before I even begin to chart my course. Because I know the going away will do nothing.

There is so much noise it makes me cringe. It's making me want to hurl things against the wall - if only to seek that split second silence right after.