In My Day....

Have you ever noticed that whenever you a decision to do something, sticking to it suddenly becomes a herculean task?
And it doesn't matter what it's about.. at least for me it doesn't.
The minute I decide to quit smoking, all I can think about is lighting up.
The minute I decide to cut back on my lifestyle, everyone wants to party.
The minute I step onto quiet-town-cochin soil, all I want to do is go nuts.

It's the strangest thing. I mean, who comes to COCHIN and wants to party???
I can imagine everyone scratching their heads right about now saying 'who knew you could party in Cochin'

But the point is, I don't know why it's so very difficult to just stick to my guns and stick to my decisions. I tell you, I do start out the night with the very best intentions. The plan is to have a good time, and come home at a fairly respectable time. I'm happy, Dad's happy.. No harm, No foul... Then the shit hits the ceiling.

Someone I respect a great deal once told me that he sees so much of potential in me, and sees me throwing it all away to have a good time..I think he may have a point, but I also don't know if he is completely justified in that thought.
I have this image in my head of who I want to be - I see this strong, intelligent woman, with a career and a life that doesn't permit me to be the last one at the party.. because face it, most of us don't drink till the crack of dawn, and stay out partying all night because we're so hooked to the booze.. It's because we're restless. We have nothing holding us down - we have no life.
I mean, here we are, twenty something, most of us on career paths that we don't believe in..bored and restless..We're footloose and fancy-free.. (and it really does get a little tedious after a while).
I know someone out there is saying 'youth is wasted on the young'.. but then I have to ask - we work, we earn money, we build our career AND we go out and have a good time..what else are we supposed to do???

What is so funny about our generation is that we really can do it all. We can work till ten at night and party till three in the morning and be back at work the next day at nine. It's really not that difficult. I'll admit, none of us probably have any savings, but if we do cut back on life, what do we do???? In this generation there is absolutely nothing worse than being bored!
Our whole world, all our technology, all our knowledge seems to be primed towards one common goal of alleviating boredom.
So how do we, a pampered spoilt generation exist in a world based on the previous generations ideals. I admit, there is much to be gained by doing so. But knowing this and incorporating this are two points that never seem to meet.

My Criticism Of Me

I was reading my last few posts and I ve come to the conclusion that I seem to be taking life too seriously.
Yes, I don't have to be there to know that most you are falling out of your chairs in shock and picking your jaws off the floor, so let me clarify. I mean in my blog posts.
Reading back on some of them they seem so tediously philosophical, so deep, so....pious.
I tell you, sometimes I have no patience, even for myself!
I also think that I must be the only person who has ever written a blog post, criticizing their own blog!! But that's precisely what I intend to do.

I mean, come on, I'm only twenty three. Surely I have something to write about other than my endless journey of self dicovery and my road to Nirvana.
Where's the fun and the parties and the laughter??? Where are my posts of last nights faux pas, gossip and secrets??? I AM still young right???
There is also some disparity between my accounting of myself in my posts and the real me. I have taken to potraying myself as having crossed this mile stone in my life where I have settled down and learnt when enough is enough.
The truth is, that's still touch and go. For every night that I say enough is enough, there's another night that I say 'why not'.. and actually, if you think about it.. Why Not????
Why not go out and get pasted every once in a while??
Why not go out and blow up more money than you should once in a while???
Why not have a few too many shots, get up on the bar, dance till you drop and even get into a fight, scream, shout and burst into tears??
Do we want to be dignified ALL the time?? I don't. I don't think I could if I spent the rest of my life trying.

So lets see what happens from here. But I think from now on, we'll add a little more fun to this blog. I would hate to say I bore my readers. And worse, I would hate to say I bore myself!!

The Long Road Home

Coming to Cochin is always a little confusing for me.. Strangely in a town as small and slow as Cochin, I always feel a little lost or rather a little out of sync with myself.
While this may not be a very flattering assessment, what I always relate with cochin, or at least the youth of cochin, is this fever to compete with the big city. And in particular, the big city night life.
I can see some of you smirking at this ludicrous idea of Cochin even dreaming of competing with the vibrant, thriving night life of a city like Mumbai or Delhi or even Chennai. But it's true, and it seems like the boys back home have something to prove.

I sometimes picture a night out in Cochin to be something like taking a nose dive into a pool and never coming up for air till the last song is sung, the last drop of alcochol is consumed, and someones car has been crashed.
Its like being sucked into this crazy vortex of drinking, dancing, shots, house parties and still more drinking, till it finally spits you out (hopefully) at your doorstep somewhere close to morning.
It's fun, it's crazy, it's expensive, a little tedious and so very very over the top.

I had an epiphany some time ago in Mumbai, before I left to come home. I had a rather unpleasant experience while out one night with a friend of mine from Cochin. And what I realised was that I couldn't keep up with this man from small-town Cochin and better yet, Hell, I didn't want to! I didn't want to go from club to club and from drink to drink with him. And my problem had always been that I just could not say no to him, when he was in Cochin or when he would visit me in Mumbai. That one night somehow changed my entire outlook on Cochin. It taught me, in some way, to enjoy the moment, without letting the fever grip me, without letting myself get sucked into the centre of the vortex.
I found my zen - which had previously always eluded me in Cochin.
I sometimes see myself and my life like a giant jigsaw puzzle, and one piece just feel into place :)

Take me down a peg or two if you will..

I spent this last week in Coonoor with my family, celebrating my grandmothers 80th birthday.(For those of you who are interested, Coonoor is a beautiful small hill station, in the Nilgiris, near Ooty, where the weather's almost always wonderful and you get the most delicious tea). We all showed up pumped to have an amazing time. Instead, to my jaundiced eyes, it appeared that everyone was sniping at each other as often as they were having a good time.

It all came to a head when my grandmother and I got into an arguement about me having 'yet another beer'. I had taken to having one beer a day to celebrate the start of my holiday. Anyway, I regret to say, I was needlessly rude to her, which caused some upset on her part and earned me a minor shelling from my mother.

After being informed that I was being uptight and 'saintly' by pointing fingers at everyone, I settled down and proceeded to have a very good time for the remainder of my stay there.

What appalled me and caused this lashing out was the fact that I was actually being questioned about how much I was drinking and how many cigarettes I was smoking. I know when you are used to doing things your own way and you come back to living with the family, these things are expected. But thinking about it and imagining you'd be ok with it is completely different from experiencing it and settling down into it. So of course, I completely forgive myself for freaking out and rebelling.

But I think there is something to be said for coming back and living with the folks. Other than the obvious comforts, security and pleasure you gain from it, you also learn to give a little. I think with time, you get settled in your ways and you lose the ability, or rather the will, to compromise, to adjust and put some one elses comfort and peace of mind ahead of your own.

I don't think this ability comes from sharing space with just anyone. I have had mutliple room mates over the years, and while we treated each other with respect, I can honestly say that the unspoken rule was always 'each to their own'.

I suppose when you have your own family, your spouse or your children, it comes naturally. But children I think have a lifetime of taking their parents for granted, and you need to turn around and come back every once in a while, so that you can change the things that need changing, now that you have the wisdom to do it better.
Otherwise you're just ploughing your way through life running roughshod over everyone else, right?

This Is It

My last twenty four hours in Bombay passed in a blur of last minute details and much drama..
I had it all planned out in my head how it was supposed to go.. Needless to say, that was not how things panned out. At all.

I imagined having everything sorted out the day prior to leaving so that all I would have to do would be to wake up, go to work to say my goodbyes, take my two dear colleagues out to lunch, come home, dress and look beautiful in time for my farewell.

Here's what actually happened.

I woke up to pouring rain. And I don't mean any everyday Mumbai shower, I'm talking the 'everyone runs home in a panic' shower.
Then my sister tells me I have to help her move the last of her stuff to her new house (which I had not accounted for), thus making me late for my lunch with my colleagues. When I finally dash out of her house, I splash right into calf deep dirty drain water. And as luck would have it, I have no umbrella.
However, in a few minutes I manage to flag down a ric - Which in turn, breaks down a few minutes later. So once agian I splash through the calf deep, dirty drain water into another ric and finally make it to Khar station
(All of this while holding a heavy, overloaded packet of my ex roomates dabbas, ahstrays, glasses and other miscellaneous (but heavy) stuff)
At Khar station, I am stalked down the length of the platform by a dirty creepy man who was explaining in detail ( and unfortunately in English)what he would like to do to me if he could - Yea I know..very gross.
On finally reaching my stop, Im thinking fondly of the woman who sits at the station selling umbrellas for hundred bucks (which ordinarily I would never have touched), but on this day she would be my savior. And wouldn't you know it, she's not there!
So after waiting for the rain to let up for a few minutes, which it did not, I in my infinite wisdom decide to make a dash for it.
Now read this carefully. And visualise it if you will - I take off at a running start - nearly do a split - catch my balance - run another two steps - slip - catch my balance - run two more steps - land up flat on my ass, and skid a lil bit more just for good measure. The only thing missing from that was the rug burn.
I stand up, gather my things .. and the last of my dignity and set off to hail down a cab. When a cabbie pulled over, looked me dead in the eye and informed me that he's not letting me sit in his cab as soaked as I was, the last of my dignity went with him and resorted to begging. Three taxis later, my pleading worked and I FINALLY made it to office.
The rest of the day passed without incident till evening. Thats when I started to checking up on my evening plans. It turned out that most of the people who were supposed to spend the evening with me (and incidentally were so upset that I was leaving) had made alternate plans for the night or could not make it due to circumstances. I, however, failed to understand how this could be a valid explanation for not showing up and promptly burst into tears - Afterall, my last night in the city and no one wanted to see me??.. ME?????
Then my own personal knight in shining armour, weilding his foot long umbrella came to my rescue, braving hell and high water (literally) to show me a good time. Soon after, a few more friends, whom i won't name here, travelled through the rain and across not an insignificant distance to see me, for which I am very very grateful.
So the night ended on a very very high note for me, though I did shed a tear or two over the goodbyes (which was expected, I suppose)

All in all, it was a very dramatic exit, what with the rain, the flooding, the tears, the drinking, the dancing and the last minute heart-to-hearts. But one thing I learnt from this is that you can never really know who your real, solid friends are in your life, except through those few moments that will show everyone for who they really are - their priorities, their honesty, their loyalty - their substance.
Five years in this city, I ve partied with many many people, eventually settled into one group, all of whom have sworn to be there for each other, to back each other and to prioritise each other.
Many times in the month to my leaving, I heard the oft repeated questions about why I'm leaving, how I can leave, the pledges of how much they'll miss me and how they'll all be there to make my last night special. And yet, when the moment arrived, the people with me were not these same people.
But in fact, these five people that did come to see me that night, gave me something that I will hold on to. They made me feel special for that night. They made me feel like I would be missed. And they gave me something to take away from that city - a sense of belonging. So I suppose it's true. It's never the numbers - It's the people.