I prefer Manolo's...

A lot of my conversations with my girl friends are about men. Not surprising. We talk about men and how they are such c***s (use the choicest of letters; it could be Hindi or English, doesn't matter), and how we don't really need them. One such interesting and hilarious conversation led to the following conclusion -

"Men are like Manolos."

We don't NEED them.
They're bad for our feet.
But, we GOTTA HAVE 'EM.

The hiatus

Lo[ooooooooooooooo]ng time, no see.

Yes. I have to recount the events that commanded preference.

Go on.

Well. Most eventful, but also most saddening summer I've ever spent. Lost golden [no wait, platinum;studded with diamonds] internship offer because certain government agencies took their own sweet time to process my employment authorization documents. Short trip back home was horrible considering I was at home and bed-ridden for more than half the time. Another disaster happened at Philadelphia. And last, but certainly not the least, got heartbroken. Yet again.

:) Didn't anything nice happen though?

Oh sure, yeah. Only, not to me. Well, maybe. I think I'm numb now. I hardly cried after the heartbreak. I've been working out and playing a lot; which makes me feel great. Maybe its all the Serotonin.

Whatever it is, don't you think you learned more than what you would have, if things went well; or shall we say, as you planned?

Mostly, yes. But, well, about the heartbreak, I beg to differ. I did everything right. Oh, but wait. That IS right! I learned not to let anyone walk over me; even if I had the biggest crush on him. Yep. I learned that.

Good. It was about time you realized that.

Yeah. I also learned that loneliness is actually solitude; that I'm no longer uncomfortable with silence and that I love yoga for what it has done to calm my mind.

So it was an enlightening summer then? :)

Oui ! :)

Its summer, and I'm working on campus. Its a silly job really, a no-brainer; leaves me a lot of time to do my stuff - applications, research and reading.

Eileen works in the same office as I. She's about 55 years old, African-American and one of the most beautiful and cheerful people I've met. After the internship debacle (not being able to do the internship because the EAD (Employment Authorization Document) didn't arrive on time), the heartbreak (a.k.a. post-rejection-murder-of-ego) and, the disastrous CTY teaching experience, I was shattered. Nothing was going the way I thought it would. Even the short trip home was scarred by my accident. (Spilled boiling water over the right leg. As a result, spent two out of three weeks in India, sitting at home.) Anyway, after the teaching thingy didn't work out, I came back to Baltimore and started back at my old workplace.

One morning as I walked into office, I saw Eileen at her desk. She usually comes in after 12, so I was surprised to see her at work so early. I greeted her, and as she greeted me back with her usual cheerful smile, I saw her eyes shine. She noticed, and looked away. I wanted to ask her what was wrong. I knew I'd seen tears.

That afternoon, I made masala chai for Eileen. "Spiced chai latte" as the Americans call it. (More Amru-bashing, later.) "I love this stuff. I totally love Indian food!", said Eileen. And then I saw those tears well up again. " My daughter's boyfriend is Indian. Such a nice boy. I'm still in touch with him and his parents. In fact, his mother's visiting me over the weekend." I asked her how old her daughter was. And thats when she said it. "She'd be 25 this year, if she were alive."

Suddenly those tears made sense. It was on this day seven years ago, that her only daughter had passed away. It was a sudden death. Nosocomial infection. She was gone. Only two days before she passed away, they had moved to this city. She was going to attend school here.
It was Eileen's birthday the next day. Shattered and lonely, she spent it by herself.

I was stunned. Nobody could've imagined that this cheerful-looking lady has ever suffered such a huge personal loss. And yet, here she was - always smiling and upbeat.

She mentioned that every year on her daughter's death anniversary, she holds a memorial service for her. Friends and family come over, and they recapture moments they spent with her. She also has a scholarship in her daughter's name.

She still lives in the same house that she and her daughter bought seven years ago. She still thinks about her everyday. Only, she feels happy that she's keeping alive, her daughter's memory.

I'm amazed at her resilience. Amazed and inspired - to forget the past, and move on.

Kudos, Eileen :)

The fourth minute

Its been a couple weeks since I hit the gym. Hopefully, this time around I'll stick to it. Its been good so far, with a few minor cheating spells *grins*. The weight is coming off slowly, but most importantly, I'm feeling stronger.

I work eight hours, and although its nothing great (considering its a campus job), I still have to run around a lot and it makes me tired by the end of the day. Yesterday was one such day. I went home and crashed. I was so exhausted, I didn't want to move a finger. And I slept. Woke up at 8pm. It was late, but I decided to head to the gym. Hadn't been to the gym for the past two days. I thought I'll walk, and not run, because I was already tired. Something, is better than nothing - I was thinking.

And then I turned on my dear old faithful mp3 player, and ran. Today, for the first time in a long, long while, I ran continuously until the fourth minute. And it didn't make me tired. I remember the moment of surprise, when I expected my body to get tired, calf muscles tightening and about to give up. But it just didn't happen at 2min30s. It was such a rush - literally and figuratively!

*Music - Fleetwood Mac*

After a good 2 hour workout, I came home, and crashed. This time, tired - but ecstatic.

So a friend asks..

...but why is happiness like a mango?

Well, its like this dear friend.

Most people crave it. Considering most people are not masochists. What I like about them is that they're both seasonal. If only happiness was as predictable as the Indian summer months! But that's where it lies, the value of the mango. And by its absence from the rest of the year, it maintains its value. And that is how happiness is - valuable and sought out. Only, much more unpredictable. And both must be savored when they arrive, for they won't stay forever.

The Beatles wrote a song "Happiness is a warm gun". I picked up the "happiness is.." concept there. But the "mango" is mine.

:)

The nth blog..

It took me 3 days to think of a gmail id. And another two for the name of the blog. And of course, another day, to think of the blog link name. Why is it so difficult to pick names?

When I started thinking about this blog name, I thought I wanted it to represent who I am. I thought about it for long, attempted registering a few, but none were available. I wonder what would happen if they did that for names, in general. Well, the world would be a much safer place - with a lot more words than we know!

I finally thought of my most favourite Mahavishnu Orchestra composition. And that's what my email is about.