(Over)Cautious?

I'm so busy trying to avoid the mistakes I made before, I making huge, brand new ones.

That perfect balance of learning from the past and enjoying the present while not fearing the future.

It eludes me.

Tonight, I realised a gift my parents gave me....

was the ability to sit in a fancy restaurant, drinking expensive alcohol and the knowledge of which knives, forks and spoons to use without embarrassing myself.

It is the same ease with which I can sit and eat a simple meal with no cutlery involved (true Indian style!).

When we were young, my sister and I used to hop over the wall of our garden and go to a labourer's shack next door. The lady was working on the renovation work of our neighbour's building. We sat on the floor, ate from her plate and played with her baby.

Looking back, I see the house was makeshift and tiny, the food simple.

But the enjoyment was the same as any we had when we ate out with our parents.

One day we were at her shack. The next, we were at the five-star President Hotel eating at their famous Thai Restaurant.

It never seemed strange or out of place, the dichotomy of our social interactions.

But now, when I see how uncomfortable some people are when they are not at a place that serves food 'just so', or see friends who are used to simple food shift uncomfortably when they are invited to la-di-dah restaurants, I am able to appreciate this gift.

So to conclude, I was totally and completely able to enjoy Lahore Kebab House tonight.

Just as much as I was able to enjoy Assaggi, Status, Global Fusion or any other place I went to.

The fact that I'm a foodaholic has nothing to do with it of course.

Onwards

While looking through some old folders in my email inbox, I cleared two thousand emails from my 'work' folder.

Yup, that's right. Two thousand.

If I choose to look at the bright side, I am grateful for the job through which I learned a hell of a lot about the real world, how to get along with all sorts of people diplomatically, met amazing colleagues who became friends and gained immense respect for at least two clients.

If I choose to be realistic about it, the job was hell. Sure it had its perks and the pay was great, but anything that makes you want to not get out of bed in the morning and want to have a drink by noon, is not a good thing in the long run.

So as I head toward a career change away from being the 'yes' person, here's my wish list for whatever I work at next:

- I won't receive more than ten emails a day. More importantly, I won't have to answer them within five seconds of receiving them in order to appear to be 'on the job'.

- I can leave work at a decent hour and not get stared at on the way to the door (I swear to God this actually happened every single time I left before six o'clock!).

- I will have a Monday to Friday job that actually entails not working on Saturdays from home.

- Lying about what is possible to do will be an anomaly, not a part of the job description.

- Most importantly, I won't have to smile all the time when talking to idiots.

Here's to the dream job!

Villa Prisca

I don't need to re-tell my story.

Because you know it already.

You know why I speak the way I do.

Why I prefer the company of older people.

You know I hate loud, noisy folk.

That I prefer hugs to kisses.

You know my scars,

my short-form words that don't make sense in real languages.

You know my family,

my connections, my attachments, my stupid little 'happy' thingamajigs.

I don't want to explain them any more.

The re-telling emphasises the pointlessness of it.

Every once in a while, I'll catch myself mid-sentence

wishing I could just take a deep breath

and go home, where I can be quiet.

Because you know it all already.

I know what I want to say but...

No one who knows me will ever accuse me of being at a loss for words.

Unless it's under extraordinary circumstances, I usually have a pretty good handle on what I want to say, when I want to say it.

Lately though, I feel like someone stole my words.

There are a loads of things I want to say, but the articulation is proving trickier than I imagined.

In the usual structure of introduction-body-conclusion, I have the beginning down. But then...it sort of trails off and dies. Or gets lost in the muddle of other things that need saying, all at the same time.

So I end up staying quiet.

Coasting along in silence, because it's easier than persevering with my broken sentences.

It's beginning to show though.

The silences beam through the cracks in the words.

Tone It Down

I sometimes find myself backing away from the loud people.

I know sometimes I forget myself and talk at a higher volume than I should.

These times are usually associated with alcohol or a subject I feel strongly about. Or both.

But for the most part, I'd like to think I speak at a volume that is acceptable to the majority.

Which is why when I now come across someone that shouts at me instead of talking to me, I find myself cringing and taking a few steps backwards.

I can't stand it.

Unless we're in a place with ear-splitting music or other such detriments to the audibility of one's voice, I see no reason for the shouting.

It seems perfectly logical to me that there should be no shouting.

Either that or I'm getting old and cranky.

Therapy

When intuition and paranoia are at odds.

When confusion meets happiness along with denial.

When blissful numbness gives way to a whole host of tangled emotions.

There's only one thing to do.

Eat.

The Liberal Illusion

I thought acceptance and tolerance had become the norm.

I was taught that everyone is equal and though we come from different backgrounds, colours, religions and economic classes - everyone had to be treated the same and with respect.

I had friends who were rich and those that weren't so well off; friends who were Hindu, Muslim, Catholic and certainly a whole bunch of disillusioned agnostics and atheists.

It was lovely, and to a large extent, it still is.

But now I'm finding that the norm has limits. Tolerance and respect is all very well, as long as you don't bring it back to your doorstep. Friendship is great, but if you marry - make sure it's from the right religion, caste, community and socio-economic class. When push comes to shove, even the friendship lines will be drawn on the side of those we can see in our 'groups'.

The Liberal illusion is well and truly shattered.

The exception to the norm is not the intolerant person.

It is the person who says he/she is accepting of all, and is able to follow through with more than just words.

Life is full of disappointments

Like when you discover the lovely fragrance you always associated with your Grandma is actually the smell of the psoriasis cream she used to put on her hands.