where is everybody?

PN is my mother. She believes that no matter whatever the hell is going wrong with your life, eating is vital. If you run out of your home when an earthquake strikes and it happens to be just at lunchtime, you should wait for things to settle down and go to the nearest surviving restaurant and sit down and eat.

Whatever the hell is the matter with your life, it has nothing to do with eating. If someone is breaking up with you, eat through it. If you are happy, eat lunch. If you are angry, eat angrily.

So, in the light of this information, you can only imagine where reasons like “I am in a meeting”, “I didn’t have time”, “I didn’t have money”, or the worst of it, “I didn’t feel like eating” will get you.

So, today, when I heard an urgent knock on my door when I was hurriedly getting dressed, I prepared myself for the ‘breakfast discussion’, which, if you want to know, goes typically like this:

“Shall I make roti?”

“No.”

“Do you want dosa?”

“No.”

“Let me make aloo rice?”

“No.”

“Do you want to drink coffee?”

“No.”

“Shall I pack some puri?”

“No.”

 And so on until one of us gives up. So, I was pleasantly surprised to see that there was no plate with breakfast being shown to me when I opened the door. I walked into the kitchen to see her with the saddest and most ashen face I have ever seen in my entire life.

 “Do you know what happened………?” she asked, while I wondered what the fuck happened???? She proceeded to tell me how our maid had thrown away the milk that she had lovingly prepared for about 3 or 4 hours last night to get it into the perfect consistency, which is so very important, for which she has brought 6 kilos of mangoes, so she could make aam ras in the morning, which she could pack for all my collegues also. Thrown away! Because the maid thought it was bad. “Why didn’t she ask?” she asked me while I stood there at a loss for words. She didn’t have anything else to say. She looked around the kitchen quietly and realized it was truly a lost battle and walked slowly into the living room to read the papers. It was sad. I was sad. She was heartbroken.

 I don’t know where her attachment for food comes from. But I’m glad its there. Because even beautiful Paris cannot offer me perfect aam ras and puris that I can refuse.

EIGHT OF THE STUPIDEST THINGS I HAVE EVER HEARD.

(in random order)

1. “all men are bastards.”

2.  life insurance

3.  love is forever.

4.  “i am homophobic”

5.  fair and handsome (!)

6. ‘india is a developing country.’

7.  that stupid singer called himesh ’stupid’ something.

8.  “you have shopped enough!’

thank you to Amedeo Modigliani for this wonderful picture and his more beautiful story.  

franz kafka asked his friend, whom he trusted explicitly, to destroy all of his writings. kafka wrote to him a letter expressing his wish and trusting his friend to carry out his dying wish. his friend did not. because he believed that the writings were far too worthy to destroy. or maybe he had another reason altogether. in any case, he betrayed his friend’s trust.

people think i’m making a style statement when i say that i am going to burn every possesion i own before i die. i wish to explain myself for the first and last time.

when i declare that i want to destroy my possessions, it is not because i consider them too worthy or too worthless. one of the reasons is because i am selfish. i do not want anyone else to enjoy the fruits of my labour. or to own something that i once did. another reason is because i want people to remember me only from what they have known, seen or heard or can remember. not from some thing they have that belonged to me. which is also why i try my best to give people things all the time.

at the risk of sounding spiritual, another reason is that material things can never be possessed. anything that is yours can easily belong to someone else. the true meaning of ‘going alone because you came alone’ is not that you don’t take anything with you when you die. it means, i believe, not to have anything to take. to be free. we cannot afford to get attached to any thing or any one. you cannot have anything that you can’t let go of. i mean, I cannot have anything that i can’t let go of. 

but many people have heard me declaring that i shall burn all my possessions and they either laugh or say ‘yeah sure’ or  the worst of it, they say ‘please don’t do that’.  so i ask simply to bear with me when i express this wish that is so close to the person that i am. because it means that i am free. and to accept anything that i may give you because it may be all that you have of me. and to respect that this is a very important thing to me. and if there is anything of mine that you really really really want, ask me now. and it shall be yours.

just like me. i am yours. and i am hoping you know that. wherever you are………

TEN THINGS I WANT TO DO BEFORE I DIE:

(in random order) 

1. get a pencil for my collection from every country in the world.

2. send my mother to visit china.

3. give away my guitar to someone who will play it.

4. meet michael jackson.

5. go to austrailia.

6. meet every single person in the world.

7. read ‘god of small things’ another 50 times.

8. have lots of sex.

9. burn every single thing i own.

10. see you just one more time. 

…….. where are you?

(thank you to scott maxwell for the sad golden man.)

how do you remind someone of yourself when they have forgotten about you? do you remind them of everything you ever told them? or tell them a few selected ones? or make up a whole new story about you?

the truth is none of the above. because people don’t forget about you. they just choose not to remember. they choose to remove your stories from their life. and you cant change a ‘choice’.

so when i saw a ‘who’s this?’ on my mobile screen today, i was terribly, terribly sad. it was horrible to have to realise that he doesnt remember; he has deleted my number and has chosen not to remember.  it was killing to realise that this is exactly how it was meant to be.

he won’t remember and i won’t forget. it was somewhat of a consolation that the phone was with someone else and it was’nt him.

but it made me wonder…where is he?  

i once asked a few friends of mine,

“what is the craziest thing you’ve done when someone broke up with you?”

and one of the answers i can remember is,

“i walked miles and miles in the rain”

i admit i am not really a very rain-friendly person. i hate getting wet in the ain. i hate it that most plans of a “nice evening out” get canned because ‘it’s raining!’. 

i love the smell of wet earth just after it rains. i love standing in my balcony and staring at the rain. i love watching the patterns the rain makes when the wind whips against it. 

and i love the fact that all the water flows to the sea.

the seas and oceans are the only sensible end to life. all life, love, explanations, reasons, all our mistakes, everything, get washed into the sea. and the seas bring new life when they rise up to give birth to the rains. and only the rain has the time to listen to our secrets. and allows us to walk miles if we want to.

the only witness to ourlives is the rain. we must always do everything we can to appease the rain gods. and every summer must give way to the rains.

so the next time it rains, i think i’ll take a walk. i have plenty of stories to tell. and the rain, as always, will have the time to listen.

 -thank you to alberto giacometti (1901-1966) for this wonderful sculpture, titled, Homme qui marche sous la pluie. (man walking in the rain)

 look directly into his eyes.

ok. so i have just figured out that i CAN add pictures to my blog. that is the first good news.

the second is that i LOVE robbie williams in this pic.

third? did i say there was a third?

ok ok ok ok ok.

i give up. i can-not wrap my mind around this “set blog components” thing.

b%#**y f**k !

no i am not going to apologise for cursing on my “first” post on my new blog. anyway, hoping this blog proves a worthy companion during the next few supposedly “exciting’ months. i’m going to paris, you see….yes, all by meself and my two new suitcases, filled with 20 years of my life. understatement to say that i am looking forward to it.

anyway, im hoping this blog goes a long way. there are a lot of things to be said. to a lot of people. and i have never said them when i was supposed to. so, when i die, my only earthly possession will be this blog. so, to all the people i have known, and those who know me, this is for you. this is me.

a friend on mine once said that blogs are for opinions. they should not be used to showcase ‘writing skills’. so, i hope my ‘opinions’ are well received.

enjoy.

p.s- oh, does anybody know……? where is everybody?