I could get used to this.

I've just reached the country I can truly call my own.
The first thing I notice is the smell - how can anyone survive here?
Five minutes later, I was completely oblivious to that smell.
Its true that every city you fly into presents itself to you in all five senses. Smell hits you first - because its the first to permeate the barriers that the country erects around its airports.

Its now about an hour since I left the airport.
All thoughts of my initial disgust of the smell are lost as the cab driver recklessly meanders through traffic at a speed that makes all the other cars going in the same direction seem like cars in the other direction.
"Do these seatbelts really matter?" and "Oh fuck I'm going to die today!"

Yesterday I arrived here. Now I'm at home! Within the comforting grasp of family!
Ah the exquisite pleasure of losing my worries at the front door and reverting back to being an irresponsible kid, being fussed over by everyone! I don't have to help with the cooking, and I don't need to do the dishes after. Eat home cooked food and sleep when I want... Bliss!

I reached home a day ago. I tried driving here - it was a blast.
I didn't realize how easy it was to get back to being ruthless and pushy while driving. No one gets trained in driving combat unless they've driven here. God help the weakling who trembles at the thought of cutting lanes or merging into incoming traffic or every vehicle on the road coming within 3 inches of your beloved car.
Darwinism at its best.

Its been a couple of days since I came home.
The long talks, the endless rest, the hot food (that I didn't have to make!!)... I could get used to this.

Its been three days since I came to "my" city.
I've been braving the traffic just so that I can go to every place that is dear to me. What fun!

Its been 4 days...
I went to my school. Its been ages since I saw it. I wish I were back in school. Would I do anything different knowing how beautiful it looks to me now?
I went to my college. Oh how the kids these days have changed! Makes me feel so much older than I really am.

Its been 5 days...
I went to meet my friends. Numbers have changed. Some don't live where they used to. Some aren't even in the same city. Wow - they seem to have moved up in life!

Its now a week .... and I don't know why I ever left this place to go anywhere else in the world.

Day 8: Saw a reckless driver get into an accident that I could predict about 10 seconds before it happened based on his behavior and action and seeing that the people he was trying to overtake had absolutely no idea he was. With that 10 second headstart, I was barely able to get out of the impact zone. WTF was he thinking?

Day 9: I was witness to the first bribe I've seen happening since nearly three years. It felt familiar and mundane but shameful and ridiculous as well.

Day 11: No lights all day yesterday. What fun! It seems last week was an anomaly - I was welcomed into the country with lights, but the celebrations are over this week. Back to the rationing schedule.

Day 12: Not enough time to write much. Lights keep going out. The Internet is slow at home - and we've bought the most expensive plan. How am I ever going to get any work done here? I had to write this post and save it as a text file so that I can post it when the lights and internet both work. I'm getting back to the "workrounds" mode that I remember I had before I left. At least my laptop works this time.

Day 13: Just came back from a bit of shopping. The prices here are insane! I alternated between remembering the prices before I left and converting between currencies. No matter how I did it, the conclusion was the same: This place is no cheaper than my adopted home! Does it make financial sense to move back?

Day 14: I seem to have caught a bug. Oh joy!
There's no concept of insurance here and the waiting times are just as bad. At least the doctors are friendlier and don't give me endless disclaimers. Now that I think about it, I just realized I haven't seen one advertisement about "auto, motorcycle and home insurance" nor any pharma ads with their endless list of deadly disclaimers.

Day 15: It's becoming hard to justify living here permanently unless I'm so rich that I don't need to work or at least can get others to do the work. Driving is a mess, bribes are a regular part of the daily routine and the infrastructure sucks. There are traffic rules that no one follows and getting from point A to point B involves breaking at least a dozen laws.

Day 16: Only 2 more days. Just 2 more and I'll be back home.

Day 19: Back home. Everything here just works. I feel lightheaded because there aren't any workarounds to follow, no need to constantly worry about what problems I need to avoid, what bribes I need to pay... Life is so much simpler.

I can see how I got used to this.

Survival instinct

There is much to experience in the end of a business like Mervyns.
Right now they are in the midst of a bankruptcy liquidation that will necessitate them to sell of all their inventory and pay off their creditors.

At first glance all I saw was a company going through Chapter 7 in the usual "Going out of business" sale - free market Darwinism at its finest.
Of late there have been many of those. Unheard of furniture stores, mom-and-pop mini marts, even Circuit City putting up big banners shouting their imminent demise. Mervyns was one of the newer additions to the list.

I don't know why I started trying to find out more about all this bankruptcy wave. I suppose it was just a passing curiosity about what everyone is calling the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression of 1929. You see, out here in Silicon Valley, not much seems to have changed in my blinkered view of the economy.

Sure, I have noticed that my gas bill has reduced to less than half of what it was in summer. But that's also because I drive a Prius and of late have started driving my bike when I can.
Sure, I have noticed lesser traffic jams of late - but that's because I almost never get out during peak hours, and besides, its winter - no one wants to drive anyway.
Sure, I've noticed how the median housing prices for a 3/2 SFR in the Bay Area have dropped over $300K over the last year.
Sure, I've noticed an increase in signs shouting about some sale or some company going out of business. But thats just because of the holiday timing.
I'm not really affected am I?

Its easy to believe that your city or community or company is immune to whats affecting the rest of the world. After all, it is _yours_, isn't it?

I used to read the daily newspapers about some company or the other that was going bankrupt... or about Wall Street crashes... or about foreclosures in so many parts of the country.
All I said was: California is immune!
Then I saw how so many homes in California were also affected, and I said: But Silicon Valley is immune!
Then I saw the condition of houses in East San Jose - and I said, East San Jose was never a part of Silicon Valley!
Then I saw Santa Clara and Sunnyvale homes collapsing - and all I could think of was that at least I was safe.
Then I got laid off.

Welcome to denial!

But... I did get a new job. That makes it all right doesn't it?
It does. It must!

Every wave of trouble must wash over you and pass on, leaving you either dead or stronger.
If you're dead, there's nothing to worry about.
If you're alive, you're wiser for having survived, and stronger than those who didn't.

Welcome to survival!

कश्याला आलास ?

Gynocentrism?

A new child is born - but only as minuscule parasite.
It then feeds off the mothers life and grows until the mother can no longer contain it.
Does the child have a choice but to be thrown out? No wonder it cries!

The child now grows with her mother, not inside her. She plays in her house and studies, and grows and derives pleasure from everything around her.
Then comes a time when it is no longer possible to contain her in that house.
Does she really have a choice but to move out and make her own house? No wonder she loses her innocence!

The woman now grows and gains experience and absorbs knowledge. She choses a partner and lives out her life in great fulfillment!
Then comes a time when it is no longer possible to sustain herself.
Does she really have a choice but to die?


But... before her time is done, she had loved her husband...

And a new child is born! - but only as a minuscule parasite.

Month #1

Got job, flew here, stayed at uncles house for two weeks, borrowed his car, got apartment.
No bed, no table, no chair, no food, left the rest of my family in a land far far away.
Got frustrated. Got tired. Got lonely. Then relied on her to pull me through.
Got paid, got food, got utensils, got to eat, borrowed sleeping bags, bought quilt, slept cozily with the one person I trust more than myself.
Got driving license, got first real loan ever in my life, bought a car.

Worried a lot that my friends might get jealous and start hating me.
Worried that by the end of all this, I may have no more friends at all.

Then - Took a deep breath.

Looked at her. Smiled.

And got back to work.

My car

My car!

Nothing to see here, move along.

Choice

I usually write in a way that would make my audience begin to imagine that they are actually reliving the experiences that I go through. Not just looking through my eyes, nor just taking a glimpse into my mind. I want you dear reader to _be_ my story.

When I write anything, I imagine myself facing you so that I can see you smiling as I raise my hand to hold yours.

"Come", I say, " to my world", as I slowly start walking backwards holding your hand and pulling you out of your inertia.

It first seems as if I a walking backwards, then you realize that the rhythm of my footsteps were never there.
My gentle leading has become a tug. Then a pull. Then it becomes a force that strains the grasp I have on you.
The world besides you becomes a blur as we hurtle down paths unseen, unheard, unfelt, and unspoken - until the time I chose to go there.
And then suddenly we are in the place where I want you to know, so I let go of your hand. As you scrable frantically to claw your way back to me, I push you heartlessly into the place that you must see, as I disappear to become the narrators voice in a story who's protagonist has just arrived on the scene.

There are some things that I write that would make sense to only those people who have a vivid imagination. And then there are times when my imagination is strong enough to drag you kicking and screaming into my world.

What I am trying to say is that sometimes you have a choice... And sometimes you dont.

Thirsty

I always manage to start writing things at ungodly hours of the day, irrespective of which part of the world I am. For reasons yet not fathomable by me, I always go into a very reflective mood in the night time. And then I think about something really silly but it appleals to me. And then I am forced to write it.. Because if I dont it hurts that part of me that must create and keep creating. So what am I writing today? Read on...
---
A weary traveller walks through the desert with a full ration of water. His throat is parched, the sweat has long dried up on his face and he has the typical stink of someone who hasn't gotten the rest he deserves. He is very thirsty - thirsty enough to feel wincing pain as he tries to swallow his spittle. He knows that he must drink the water to satisfy his thirst. It is a blind fact that settles well into his logical self. His logical self is satisfied in the knowledge that it has found the problem, identified the solution and now expects the body to obey without question. And then there is a part of him that _wants_ to be thirsty and stay thirsty. Just to see what it feels like. To be able to know how it is to want something bad enough. This part horrifies the logical side because of its completely alien thoughts. Its the classic struggle between Logical reasoning against illogical desire.

"I think I will let go of the senses that direct me to drink the water", he says to himself.
"Let me see what it feels like to want water, to have it with me, and yet not be able to have it... To hold it in my hand and never be able to bring it to my lips."
"To feel the irresistible pull of what you want against the the unbending logic that blocks your path"

"To behold your love and not have her"

The traveller uncorks the hide holding his ration of water and is immediately assulted with the smell of wetness.
Slowly he brings the mouth of the hide to his nose, smells the water, feels the rush of expectation of his body.
It makes his eyes smart with desperation.

Slowly like a semi-somnolent snake warming itself against a rock his hands uncoil, taking the hide skin bag away from his face. He cant help the fact that he is drooling at the prospect of having a drink to sooth his parched throat.
He gawks in surprise, then in fury at his hands, which are moving the bag away from his mouth.
Slowly, his hands close the bag and replace it back to his side.
And then his expression drops back to sullen understanding.

The wind blows in the desert as the weary traveller wipes his brow and comes up with nothing but sandflakes.
He looks up and squints at the sun and smiles. It is not a happy smile - its a smile he has smiled before when he realizes some truth about his world and why he does whatever it is that he does.

"It feels romantic to be thirsty", he says to no one in particular and trudges onward.