cappuccino_jo

C for coffee, conversations and chocolate croissants…

Coffee, Converations & Chocolate Croissants.
COFFEE: With a sprinkling of cinnamon…coffee is the start of the day, the warmth of home, belonging and the prelude to possibilities. Coffee can be a bridge or a boundary. Coffee, hot; cold; cappuccino; espresso & the best of all - South Indian filter coffee (frothy) is just another integral part of me… The smell of coffee brewing in the morning was a sign that I'd survived another day, that I will keep surviving through the tough times…

CONVERSATIONS: Essential! Appreciated so much more so now that I’ve reconnected with conversation…Long talks on the phone that turn from dusk to dawn, e conversations, chat and the whole shebang! Exchange of ideas, emotions, witty repartee…and something I love…the comfy silence between special conversations. Silence between the lines and silence that leaves you feeling warm & gooey…

CHOCOLATE: (not ONLY croissants) The solution to any problem in life is a bite of chocolate. Melt in the mouth or cold as ice, chocolate is a quick fix! Although it goes straight to my hips, choc can’t be resisted. Whether its dark bitter chocolate, marzipan, nuts, liquor or whatever, choc can get me from 0-60mph in just a bite.

Chimaera: Myth and legend, monster and nightmare come together in this image. Chimaeras of life, fantasy and reality merge in worlds. Having a very vivid imagination, this word has always fascinated me – the grotesque intertwined with the real. The sound of the word, too, takes me back to a bygone era and even thought chimaeras were always portrayed as negative; there is an element of beauty that is carried by the unreal..

Colour: Black and white are seen because there is colour. Shades of grey are implicit, literally and figuratively. Colour and passion are associated in my mind, blues, the sea, green, earth, stone, wood. Colours and textures fill the senses. Imagine a world without colour? Stark & sharp but without passion. Just rights and wrongs. Bursts of crimson, splashes of emerald & cobalt make me breath in the colour. I’d be terrified to lose my sight and sense of colour.

Cloth: Silk and cotton. Warp, weft & weaves. The shimmer of satin, the drape of silk and the comfort of cotton. Cloth, in all forms – stitched, unstitched and semi stitched can occupy my time for hour. A flirty stole, warm shawl or saucy poncho!

Cooking: Cinnamon, oregano and olive. Coffee, tea and honey. Spices, powders and cereal. Rice and wheat. All the ingredients that kept my wandering mind occupied, that gave me a focus in the dark days. The stove simmering and the aroma of good food sailing around the house. Chilled wine with pasta. So much more. My kitchen was my lifeline for a long time. I'd cook to keep my sanity. I cook to feel alive.

Clouds: Clouds remind me of my childhood. Cotton candy, wanting to sleep on a cloud, images of the Man in the Moon and so much more. Loving flights, watching the world of clouds, and feeling light as a cloud. Rain heavy clouds are beautiful and I can spend ages looking at the sky. Even today, I ask for a window when I fly, just to watch the sky and to connect to the world of clouds!

Conquer: To conquer the worst that life can throw you…to accept and change things, to emerge victorious is something that means a lot to me. To gamble against the odds and to have played the game. Winning is not important but survival is! Conquering the self is the ultimate challenge…

Change: Nothing lasts forever. Very clichéd! Very true. Yet, change is the only constant in life. I love change – it brings new places, new people and and casts a spell on you. Everything is full circle and the word change brings with it images of drifting, of gypsies and of magic. Of changelings and fantasy. Of things being there and then not.

Writers write.
That's what I always wanted to be, to do. I felt compelled to put my thoughts down, inane, as they seem. So, I did. Little bits of poetry and prose - stilted and ungainly at first, a child taking its first few wobbly steps, but suddenly infused with inspiration and confidence, with rhythm and rhyme.
Words. A world of wisdom, enchantment and life.

Words. A motley crew of colourful characters in the era of the sixties, swinging, shining and smiling with darker, drugged undertones.
Freedom without responsibility. Fantasy without reality.
Wonderful, thoughtful writing that is "hip" and from the heart. Cathartic, but erratic.
The kind that bursts out of one's mind once in a while, but not often enough…

Words. A carefully chosen regiment of soldiers, armed for attack. Battle conscious and disciplined, trained and tried each day - honed to perfection. Precise, well-groomed, military. Each one fighting for survival. Beating boot camp!
Powerful, profound writing that makes its mark. On target, each and every time. Guided by a compass, words with direction.
The kind that's really difficult to sustain, the challenge being the sustenance…

Choose your kind of writing. I'm happy as long as the words come and go - writing, no matter what!

Sonnet XVII


I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Pablo Neruda

This is the situation. Noida in the heat of summer. Some crazy corporate trainer decides that its "morale building" to be out in the sun, sans water, sans shade, sans mercy. So a group of people HAVE to bear the heat. And could easily slip into a coma, or collapse or even die of sunstroke or whatever. And yeah, well although I sympathise with all of them, there's just one I'm freaking out over. And its way beyond crazy. I'm so worried and there not a damn thing I can't do. The phone just rang. Everything's ok. Thank God!!!

And of course, now I feel like the fool that I am!!!!

Its obvious that you're crazy about someone when you try to reach them and you can't. When meaningless stupidity and anxiety kicks you in the gut just coz you start obsessing about if they're all right. When your imagination goes haywire and try as you might, you can't calm down those rampant damaging thoughts.
I've got to think that if things were really wrong, I'd find out soon enough. If not, I still will. But what about the interim? What about each second spilling into the next and your heartbeat getting quicker and louder? I'm really not the hyper sort, but this is out of character. By now, everyone knows that I'm freaking out big time. I'm worried. Very worried. Borderline panic.

And whose fault is it that I let myself feel this way? Well, mine and mine alone...

As usual I've got to choose. Make choices between the devil - large MNC or the deep blue sea - literally!
I've applied to Google, in Hyderabad for a job. At the same time, I'm waiting for confirmation of another far more 'exhilirationg, adventurous sounding' job with Carnival Cruises. That of Corporate Shipboard Trainer. 6 months on board and 2 months off. Just like the Merchant Navy. It will be fun for sure, but VERY VERY hard work. Also the possibility of being very seasick and feeling "landsick".

So what are the factors I should consider? Both have pros and cons (Since when am I actually analysing a situation before jumping in/folowing my heart and suchlike? Good question, the answer still unknown!!!)

Carnival is definitely a once in a lifetime opportunity. If I get the visa and have the opportunitiy, should I really turn it down? Can I? For more information on the company, the website is www.carnival.com

And Google, well, that's great for my resume too...

Suggestions, anyone? Ideas? Feedback? Advice? Anything at all to help clear my head?

People. Why do we meet people only to part? Why do they leave footprints on our hearts and linger in memories but it is so hard to reach out and touch them once they’re gone? Why is it that often you meet someone and spend time with them and before you know it, they’re gone. And only then do you begin to realise how much a part of you they’d become? The small things that claw you deep in the night – not being able to pick up the phone and hear a voice you’ve heard everyday, sometimes you feel forever? The little gestures – a smile, a handshake, a hug? Even the soft sounds of someone breathing in the same room and most of all, the sound of the laughter you shared? The bond of infinity in a moment? Hold on to the memory but hold on to the belief that your paths will cross again…

Letting Go.
Onionskin. I peel you away from my mind layer by layer. The thicker the skin gets, the harder it becomes. And my eyes water with greater intensity. At my feet fall the pieces. Paperthin. Finally, I let go. My eyes stop watering. But poignant pungent is the whiff that lingers.

Have you ever tried to cover a minor wound with cotton and then bandaged it? Without salve? Not advisable. The fluid in the wound seeps into the cotton. The fibers of the cotton enter and enmesh your skin. A few days later, you try to change the dressing. Quite simple, you think. Not so. As you discover the cotton and your skin have mated. Pull hard at the mess. You can barely tell which is which. And in protest of separation, you bleed. Once more. Letting go (of memories, of people, of places, of pets, of cherished objects) always felt like that to me.
Iron filings and a magnet. Chasing filings with a magnet was part of physics practicals in school. Or something we came across in some lab kit. Or something a scientific parent used to try and explain the wonders of science. But, to me, the thing that comes to mind is how the filings made a pattern on the sheet of paper. Like the footprints people can leave on your heart. What next? Just move the magnet away from beneath the paper. In the blink of an eye, the patterned filings fade. If only letting go was that easy…

Here's the situation. Very reminiscient to the Trainspotting theme...Choose Life. Choose a career. Choose a job. Choose to work. Choose to put things at risk. Things that are the core of your being. To take or not to take? To yield or not to yield? To stay strong or to break down? To risk everything beacuse what you risk reveals what you value (Winterson)? Throw caution to the winds because you know that what you have is irrevocable? To be able to weather the storm with your anchor not beside you but far away in terms of distance? Ironic that the decision that might lead me away is one that was arrived at with you? Am I selfish or stupid? What is the right choice? Will I be able to face the consequences? Where things fall apart, the center cannot hold, mere anarchy is loosed upon the world??? So what is the center? What the anarchy? Damned if you do, damned if you don't?

I learnt a lesson in submission yesterday. I learnt that letting someone take care of me is not as bad as I thought, that I can risk my heart again. With joy. That you can take orders and go with someone's direction, towards a greater good. Sure I can do almost anything in terms of surviving alone, but its so much more fun if there's someone to share life with.

The lesson was a simple one. I've gone on for too long trying not to let myself need anyone. Or even want them. I guess the illusion vanished in a whiff of smoke. I gave up a space that meant so much to me. A small cosy studio flat I've lived in the last year and moved back home with my parents for a while. It was VERY hard on ne level, but having someone makes all the difference. It was tough but there was promise. It was sad, but bittersweet. A phase in life that's come to an end, a space that's served its purpose. Giving up something so close to your heart is bloody tough, but when you know that at the end of the road, someone's looking out for you, the grasp can be reliquished so much easier. And letting go makes you grow. In a way that hits you in the pit of your stomach, but sets you free anyway. So you know that you can just about give up anything. Because there's always something/someone, a new corner to life. Sharp and the edges but blurred with emotion. The hardest part was packing up my kitchen. Cinnamon, oregano and olive. Coffee, tea and honey. Spices, powders and cereal. Rice and wheat. All the ingredients that kept my wandering mind occupied, that gave me a focus in the dark days. The stove simmering and the aroma of good food sailing around the house. Chilled wine with pasta. So much more. My kichen was my lifelne for a long time. Even though I didn't eat most of the time, I'd cook to keep my sanity. The smell of coffee brewing in the morning and butter melting on toast was a sign that I'd survived another day, that I will keep surviving...

And thanks to Sourabh for the lesson in submission. And for helping me move home. For a transition that brought not tears of pain but of joy...

Why do we keep coming back for more? An overdose of emotion. Is that what our generation is all about? Instant gratification? There's no censure here just wonderment. People say that we're hedonistic and perhaps we are. But is there something wrong with us? With living in the moment, living for the moment?

Whether its work, life, people, experiences, do we cluster together in groups and go hunting for the adrenalin? Where the centre does not hold and mere anarchy rules the world. Random thoughts triggered by a set of events I'm not even ready to begin thinking about. Not events happening to me (although lots is happening right now) but with a friend...

Here I am. Living the gentle crazy life. Back from Delhi, back from Goa, back from whatever hell had inhabited my mind. And a round of thanx to all those who got me out of the funk. Swimming does strange things to me. In the water, my mind is in sync with the rest of me for once. The restless drifting feeling morphs into a feeling of contentment. Of bliss. Of belonging. Perhaps coz I'm still drifting? Breathe and blow out in the water. Like yoga, all the negative vibes are expelled in the exhalation.

So back to the crazy, gentle life. Barren and sterile was I, until my feet walked his way...Somewhere between nowhere and goodbye did mine eye catch his eye? There's never a clear dividing line between reality and fantasy. I blend and merge them effortlessly and find solace and joy in both, in neither. What I'm trying to express is that despite all the melodrama of life, there are always people. Those who I cherish and treasure so deeply. Who have brought sunshine and magic into my heart at the darkest moments. And with whom this life is now heading towards the craziness of the best sort and the gentleness of the tenderest sort. My life is a phase, a phrase, a book, a chapter that can be read over and over. From any point and you won't break the continuity. Read me and absorb me into your mind. Chew me and digest me, savour the taste and touch of me.

I've never been this close to that elusive moment of contentment. Where the grass is greener where I stand. And so much of this is because of you. You know who you are. The crazy life. The gentle life. Merging into a moonlight sonata.

Here I go again!!!

Having spent about 2 weeks in Delhi now, its safe to say its an amazing city. Personally, I think its greener than Bangalore. At least South Delhi is. And it has so much character. Sure its crowded. Sure its busy and polluted. But its got soul. Anything you could ever think of is available here. There's such diversity and the place is SO huge. Forgive me for sounding like a country bumpkin, but Bangalore is minute compared to here. The sense of space is what makes the city so vibrant, even the markets are bigger and what strikes you is space. More space filled by colour, by sunshine, by humanity. The "paperwallahs" and "sabji mandis" striking up a bargain, the fruit and vegetable stalls vying for attention, brilliant splashes of crimson, green and scarlet. Flowers at every street corner, smiling sunflowers, haughty exotic orchids and cheerful carnations. Azalea. Zerberas. Daisies and dewdops. Oh yes, in winter, I could definitely call this home.

Wisps of smoke in the cold night air, the chill that makes you run for a hot cup of "chai" or cocoa. Sleeping in and luxuriating in the warmth of cosy "razais" and making small talk with anyone and everyone on the street. most people here are so friendly it makes me feel sorry that Bangalore is becoming so mean spirited...

I know you're going to say my biological clock is ticking. I don't think it is because this is about as maternal as I will ever get. It's just my idealistic -this -is -how- I -wish- it- was fantasizing!

Some people dream of things they can never have. And still want them. Still pray for them. Still believe that perhaps, someday the dream will come true.

That’s what you are to me. A dream that I long to turn to reality. When I close my eyes we become a circle. Arms around each other. Freedom. To be. To love. To cherish. And what could be greater than that?

Early in the morning. Tender sunrise kisses. Tender sunrise hugs. Its warm and cosy under the blankets, you move closer, gently cradling my head with your hand and draw me into the curve of your shoulder, the curve of your chest where I can breath you in. Your breath in my hair, your body totally in tune with mine, our breathing rhythmic rising falling together. Your fingers trail down my spine as gentle as a spring breeze. Laughing now, you pull off the covers and I yell. Laughing, you cover me once more. Cover me with kisses. Cover me with passion. Cover me with luv. Cover me with lust. Luvst.

Even in the kitchen, we move as partners. In rhyme and crime. In perfect harmony you sip coffee as you dice onions, not wanting to make my eyes water. I quickly blend the chutney and pour the batter into the cooker, the thought of tasty idlis making our mouths water. As I grab the curry leaves, you grab me and nuzzle my neck and we spin around in glee, the breakfast in the background.

The car. We reach for the music and the same time and smile. So in tune. Weaving through the traffic we get to work. Together, no task too hard. No target too tough. And enjoy working. The body and the brain. Making decisions together. United not divided. We reach for each other. Seal a deal sealed with a kiss. Laughing and unconditionally happy in each others reach. Then you take off. I do too. An evening with friends. Away from each other for a while before the world thinks us sickly sweet!

For a change, I’m home from my night before you are. Yes, you’re the sleepy one this time! I’m sitting in my favourite cane chair, reading, my legs tucked beneath me, my forehead a picture of concentration. I look up and smile and you smile too. Reach for me as I reach for you. In a small voice…Are you ready to be a dad? You look stunned as you realise what I’m trying to tell you. You pull me close so close I feel the tears spilling down my neck, down your cheeks. I look into your eyes and see happiness. You put your hand on my tummy, protectively touch me and caress me at the same time. Is this what it feels like when you want a baby? I feel on top of the world, as if I’ve got everything. You are everything. You are my home.

The months roll on and I grow bigger and bigger. No longer can I tie my shoelaces when we go for a walk holding each other’s hands tight in the evening on the beach by the house. No longer do I need to tie my laces, you’ve bought me Velcro shoes! I joke that you’re too lazy to tie my laces for me and you laugh, well who does the Velcro, my luv? Massaging away my backaches you make pregnancy a joyful experience. When I was throwing up, you were always there, with cold water and lemon. With my vitamins. Through the yoga classes and the swimming sessions, you were by my side, bathed in sweat together we held our love, guarded it and let it grow until nothing could come between us. When I was cranky and yelled at you, you just turned on my favourite music and smiled as you watched my temper fade as the tempo of the drums increased. Maybe we fought or argued sometimes, but the only feeling you leave me with is bliss.

In the midst of the night, I wake you. Oh yes, you’re going to be a dad soon. And you grab the jeep keys, bundle me in, I half walk and you half carry me. Calm and steady you hold my hand, tender and true you calm the pain. Bent double now, I clench my teeth and try not to fall apart. Hey remember your tattoo? Just don’t fight the pain, fall into it. Relax and you’ll ride above it. Breath baby…The next few hours are a blur. All I can feel is pain, my entire body pulsing clutching gripping chilling shuddering mind numbing pain. You are whispering words to me but the only thing I register is that you’re telling me I’m so brave that you can’t believe I’m going through this, that you’re rotten for allowing this to happen and that you’ll never never let me go. And then in a long moment I scream and its over. I crush your fingers, your hand in a death grip as we hear an equally loud yelling. Yes, its Kaya. She’s born. A tigress. Wavy jet black silky hair and brandy eyes. Dimples and a cleft in her chin. Widow’s peak. With my mole on her lips. You break down and hold me. I hold you. We hold her. Yes, we’re a circle!

Do I really write for myself or am I looking for responses from fellow LJers? It's been a while and I find myself looking for comments from friends/foes and people who usually had something to say. I'm tempted to send an email saying I'm blogging again but I'm going to resist the temptation.

What I'm trying to do is upload some pix onto Shutterfly and the whole thing takes so long, even with broadband. So how do I share pix? Any quicker way? And I miss all the other bloggers, LJ is lonely if there's no one to interact with!!! HELP!!!