For The Love Of A Wish

Thinking about 2012 made me realize I don’t have a proper defined wish list, you know, that list of things you HAVE to accomplish before you literally kick the bucket. And I realized the one outlined in my head barely ever gets ticked, because well, it’s mental, and if no one knows about it, I can’t really be held accountable for nothing getting done now, can I?

So with much coaxing from me and me, here it is…*drumroll*…my rather dynamic and ever-growing WISH-LIST (or at least the sweet censored version of it!):

1. Sky Dive, and live to tell the tale
2. Bungee Jump
3. Join dance classes (Delhi, August 2012)
4. Actually dance on a stage in front of people (MICA, 2009, 2010)
5. Reach ideal weight (the quantitative figure may be enquired about on a more personal forum)
6. Goa (January, 2012)
7. Leh
8. Ride a roller coaster (Singapore, November 2012)
9. Get a full body massage (Langkawi, November 2012)
10. Colour my hair red (Delhi, 2004)
11. Visit Maldives
12. Backpack through Europe
13. Deep-sea diving (Okay, so cheating here slightly, Snorkeling, Langkawi, November 2012)
14. Travel alone (Singapore, November 2012)
15. Get a tattoo (Mumbai, 2011)
16. Play in snow (Switzerland, 2016)
17. Be the subject of an actual photo shoot (Mumbai, December 2013)
18. Attend a Bachelorette party (Mumbai, 2011)
19. Attend a Bachelor party
20. Set out on a trip without a plan
21. See a musical on Broadway (London, 2013)
22. Experience a romantic evening in Paris
23. Walk on the Grand Canyon Skywalk
24. Learn to ride an Activa without crashing
25. Write a magazine/newspaper column
26. Get out of India
27. Write a blog read by more than two people, well, a lot of people
28. Receive a compliment about my writing from Jug Suraiya
29. Kick a guy in the balls
30. Be Me
31. Be happy

P.S. Am turning this post into a page, because I’ll be adding subtracting for a long looong time to come.

P.P.S. If you can suggest more things you think I might like, or some way of actually ticking off some of the things here, well shout out!!!

P.P.P.S. Thought you knew me. Well, did you?

Recap

2011 is coming to an end. Wait… say wha????

Seriously, I actually remember how bloody long and annoying 2010 was, and how it kicked my ass left right and centre. And how much I waited for 2011, in the hope of change and all things new. 2011 was everything I wanted it to be, and so much more. Both in the good and the bad. And I don’t want it to be over, not yet. Specially not if with the end of a year, and the beginning of a new one, things change. For once, I don’t want change, I want things to be the way they are…with emotions.

I realized it’s easier to summarize when you have a lot of stuff to crib about. But oh well.

My annual round-up: 2011

• The year started with a lot of change. More importantly, it started in the numbing chilling winters of Delhi, with my whole family, and it was perfect.
• A new job, new colleagues, new hopes.
• I finally moved out of my cockroach inhabited PG, and moved in with accommodating college friends, for a month. I then went out on a search for a place to live on my own in Mumbai, and soon came to realize that it was the joke of the century. I did finally move into an apartment, which I love even more because it reminds me of Delhi.
• I went back to an office I never thought I would set foot in again.
• I decided I was more important than anything else in the world. I also realized that that decision can go terribly wrong.
• My love for shopping and shoes finally jumped out of the closet, and went super crazy.
• I travelled a LOT.
• I ate even more.
• I cooked. Well, I tried. A bit.
• I realized the importance of friends.
• And of love.
• I started using green and blue kajal. And eyeliner. And mascara. And lip gloss!
• I own a shoe with a bow on it.
• And quite a few dresses.
• Yes, I turned into a girl.
• I survived session 2 of monsoons in this crazy city.
• After much deliberation, I finally realized things needed to change. And started a new life. And a new blog.
• For the first time in my life, I let go of my ego, and held onto the very last morsels of my will, parts I didn’t know existed.
• I believed.
• I realized, that contrary to popular belief, and mine, I actually do have emotions. Much much more than I had ever anticipated. And I can cry. Even if I don’t want to. A lot.
• More importantly, I realized, I am capable of being happy, and not just indifferent.
• And capable of living, and not just existing.

2011, you have been amazing. And equally cruel as well. But I’d like to believe it was all for me to learn.

2012, I would really really appreciate if you could find it in yourself, to carry on 2011’s legacy and not take the easier path of kicking my ass.

P.S. I just realized that I still haven’t made a wishlist for 2012. Damn.

        New Year’s Resolution: Think of a resolution.

P.P.S. What's with all the fuss about New Year's celebrations? Would it kill to actually sleep on time and start the new year all fresh and not hungover?!?!

An Open Letter to Mr. Claus

Dear Santa,

I don’t usually write to you, but then I just realized, that I have been trying to have quite a few conversations with Karma in my head, and she being the archetypal bitch doesn’t ever bother responding, so I thought maybe I could reroute my conversation through you.

Followed?

Well here’s the deal.

You know how they keep saying that whatever you do, it will one day come back to you in some form or the other, with interest even? Well, my question is, who is the authority to measure whether what is coming back to me is in fact equal, and if the interest calculation is accurate, and if in fact Ms. Karma isn’t taking out some personal vendetta and just adding a few more notches here and there for fun, you know? What are the controls around this particular process? A maker-checker system in place perhaps? Because in general in my life, girls have found it tougher to get along with me. But that’s changing. So I just wanted to let Ms. Karma know that, you know, maybe we can be friends now.

There have been times in my life that I haven’t been the nicest person on the planet. Or the second nicest. Or the third nicest. I can go on, but you get the gist, no? There may have been reasons, or not. I may have hurt a lot of people, I may have hurt myself, I may have never realized, or I may have realized just how much and suffered as well. I am in no way making excuses. I apologise. Damage done = ‘x’ (let’s say)

But then let’s recap to the last two years of my life, shall we?

I have been lonely. I have been depressed. I have wasted eight months against my will. I have gained weight. After giving me the prettiest skin for all my life, I have pimples, now. I never get autos. My merus never turn up. I lived with cockroaches. My next door neighbor is a drummer who likes to practice quite a few hours in a day. I work for the one person I really have no respect for. I spend more than four hours of my day cramped in trains and buses while I travel across the world to reach a client office where I sit alone all day. I have been made to repeatedly realize how insignificant I really am in the scheme of things. I now seem to be nearing the randomest eating disorder on the planet. My stomach reacts to my brain. I now know I am not perfection personified. Not even close. I have shed enough tears to unknowingly contribute to scientist’s concerns of rising sea levels. 

I am scared, Ms. Karma, and it’s not a nice way to be.

The past year has been beautiful in so many ways. I have been my happiest during it. I loved my job. I loved the people I worked with. My hair turned nice and wavy when I woke up one day, and stayed that way. I love my new apartment. I’ve written more in a year than I have in my life. I’ve written happy stuff. I actually believed in happiness and love and Captain. And I’m changing. I’m learning. But then, at all times, I know that there are these days, when you wake up all grumpy and I become your CSR project of the week. You give back with all your wrath. And while I know I must get my due, but could you perhaps once go back and check your excel sheet, run a few pivots, some summation formulae and just check, just once? Are we by any chance past ‘x’?

If no, kindly provide me your PMS-ing dates. I shall be prepared with my shield and armour. Or at least be prepared to be broken. If one can ever really be prepared for that.

I have learnt a lot from you, and I know why you are important in the scheme of things. But perhaps, one day, I would like to know that I have paid my dues. And neither me, nor people who love me, need ever suffer again, unless warranted afresh. I’d like to live peacefully. Without a karma-named axe over my head, if possible. So could you maybe put a little reminder on that date in your BB? Just let me know, please?

So all I really want for this Christmas, Santa, is your help in passing on this plea to Ms. Karma. I heard she’s a bitch. But hey, I changed. And continue to do so each day. Maybe there’s hope for her yet.

Love,

The nicer, more loveable, and learning to be more sensible,

Shreya

When The Shoe Fits...

We are always in search of that perfect pair of shoes. That unique pair which combines beauty, grace, elegance, and somehow comfort as well, into two pieces of divine material, encasing your feet like soft flower petals, protecting it from the muck out there in the world.

The only problem is that, that perfect pair we keep dreaming about, is almost always in hiding.

Some might go their entire lives in the hope that one day it will finally be their turn to put on that perfect pair. What they don’t realize, is that unless they get out there into the world, and demand them, the shoes really are never going to fall into their lap. You may find it in your first visit. Or your hundredth. You may choose to try some on, or just look. But they will not come to you.

Because there is no such thing as the perfect pair of shoes.

Don’t roll your eyes and scream “Cynic!”…hear me out (read me out?!?!), patient reader.

So you go to this expensive shop, where you only ever window shop, because simply put its way beyond your pocket depth. And as you move along, humming to yourself, ignoring the snobby salesgirl’s annoyed looks, your eyes suddenly fall on them…those beautiful heels…nothing like anything you’d ever seen before in your hum-drum life. You tip-toe towards them, excited, yet apprehensive at the same time, that they might just not fit. You wonder for a good few minutes, if perhaps it would just be better to dream about them, than know that they weren't for you. But finally your heart gets the better of you, and you lift them, and gently place them on your feet. Lo and behold! They’re a perfect fit!

You look in the mirror and think… “Perfect!”

And somehow the price tag doesn’t matter anymore. You love the shoes, you even love the box and the stuffing they come with. Just the thought of them on your feet makes you smile in the middle of your work day.

And so, on the first occasion you can find you excitedly put on your new pair of heels. They make you look tall, chic, and your legs look like they go on forever. You love the looks of adoration and jealousy that come your way. You finally found them, what everyone was looking for all their lives, what you didn’t even know you really wanted till now…that perfect pair of shoes.

But then you start to notice that just at the back of your ankle, just slightly, it’s starting to burn. Every step you take, it rubs against your skin just that little bit more, causing a pain that is almost impossible to catch, but not really possible to ignore. But you do try to ignore. You keep walking. Because you paid a lot for those pair of shoes. And it isn’t humanly possible that the shoes aren’t perfect. I mean, look at them!

But as the day goes on, that small tiny annoying pin prick of a pain keeps growing, keeps rubbing deeper and deeper, till you’re almost certain that another step can’t possibly be taken without you screaming out loud with pain and your shoe almost certainly filling up with some impossible amounts of blood.

You run home in tears. You hold your shoes in your hands and look at them with loving accusation, “How could you do this to me? I thought we were meant to be!” And with a tear barely contained in your eye, you put the shoes neatly back in their box, and push it under your bed. And you look at your pretty pedicured and now wounded feet and apologise.

Or you don’t.

There is no such thing as the perfect pair of shoes.

You give it some time. You let your feet heal. You try on your shoes again. Just for an hour this time. And the next day for two perhaps. And then a little more. And some more. And you start to realize something. The shoemaker wasn’t dreaming of your feet when he was making shoes. But now, with time, the shoes feel different. You notice how the leather seems to be adjusting just a bit more. How your toes are no longer cramped up. How the ankle spreads out a little more easily. And surprisingly, you notice how your skin is slowly adapting to the contours of the shoes, the ankles, the heel.

And you look pretty, and tall, and chic, with legs that go on forever.

And you’re happy.

In the perfect pair of shoes.

Except, there really is no such thing now, is there?

Monday Morning Blues

6:30 – Beep! Beep! Beep!

*Snooze*

6:35 - Beep! Beep! Beep!

*Snooze*

6:40 - Beep! Beep! Beep!

*Snooze*

The Annoying Pain-in-the-ass Rational Me (RM): “Ahem!”

The Cooler Sleepier Real Me (M): “Zzzzzz…”

RM: *taps feet rather noisily inside my head*

M: “Ugh! Stop that and lemme sleep!!”

RM: “Err…it’s Monday, time to get up.”

M: “No!” *covers head with blanket, curls up and slips right back into dreamland*

RM: *yanks blanket right off*

M: “Aaaaaarrrrrggggghhhhhhhh!!!!!*

RM: “You know the drill.”

M: “Go away! Two more mins…please!!!”

RM: “Do I look like Mommy to you??”

M: Zzzzzz…..

6.45 - Beep! Beep! Beep!

*Snooze*

RM: “Err…excuse me?”

M: “Excused.”

RM: It’s Monday. There’s office to go to.”

M: “Maybe I’m sick. Maybe I fell down at the station. Hell, maybe I am at work.”

RM: “Given your awesome immune system, chances are you will be sick sooner or later, so save the sick leaves, won’t you? And really? Fell down at the station? That’s the best you've got??”

M: “Ugh.”

RM: “You know how to get past this. Think of something good to look forward to in the day. That always makes you jump out of bed.”

M: *blank*

RM: “Oh come on! Some help here!!”

M: *blank*

RM: Sigh. Well, then there’s just one thing to do.

M: *looks hopeful*

RM: “GET UP, GET YOUR LAZY ASS OFF THAT BED AND INTO THE SHOWER. GET DRESSED AND GET ON WITH YOUR LIFE, GOT IT?!?!”

M: *disgusted look*

6.50 - Beep! Beep! Beep!

Oh, blah.