Change is nasty, or so it seems at first. Almost always it eventually turns out to be a blessing in disguise. But as a habit we always detest it, like I did a couple weeks back when I was asked to travel to California for 2 weeks for my work.
Having moved from California to Connecticut just a month back, it was painful to start packing my bags again. To add to the pain, I was very glad when I had left LA. I hated the place so much, I had sworn to myself that I would never set foot here again. Now while the world associates this place with white sands, fashion, Hollywood and zero snow, I associated it with bad memories, fake people and zero friends. I always used to say “Nothing’s warm here except for the weather.”
Have you ever noticed how the things you want to run away from the most always come back to you? They always do! It’s almost like there’s no escape. So even though I had let myself believe that I was done with LA, here I was back again….grudging and muttering curses as I landed at LAX.
As always, after so much gone wrong, things had to take a turn for the better. This time I had to work quite far from where I was earlier. So that ensured I never bumped into the same people I hated so much (phew!). This place (Camarillo) is actually 55 miles away from the airport, and a good 25 miles away from my earlier work place and residence. I was all alone for 2 whole weeks, and got an opportunity (which so rarely comes along) to make truce with the place, and create a fresh perspective. Everyone deserves a second chance, so why not this place?
This time the place was desperately trying to please me. All it had to do was look its best, which it did for me. California has always been beautiful, but these two weeks it was something else. While the freeways were blocked with the incessant rain waters, the valley (Camarillo) was surrounded by green majesties of mountains that exhaled the freshest air and the dewiest breeze. It was almost like witnessing the Indian monsoon. Every morning I went for an hour long walk, then drove 9 miles to work into the valley, all 9 being absolutely worth the drive. I zigzagged between the mountains that were half covered in misty rainclouds, and looked for the sun that was only just there. It was pleasantly warm-cold and my jacket took a rest in my car. As I drove each morning down into the valley, I took in the delightful view while sipping on my steaming coffee. At work I met new people and liked them all.
Now how can something like this not earn my forgiveness? I let bygones be bygones and now long to return again. Good memories have overridden the bad ones. As I drove to work this morning, I knew it was my last day here and I may never have an encore opportunity to return, or to witness a rainy weather in the valley, and I realized just how much I have begun to like the place! Oh, and did I tell you the name of the exit where my tiny work building proudly stood? – Pleasant Valley :)
Thursday, January 28, 2010
The Vagabonds
We’ll make tall sandcastles
Then crush them with our feet
We’ll draw a big heart near the waves
Then watch it wash out by the sea
And we’ll see the sun go down while munching on candyfloss
You, me and us
We’ll run up to a hill top
And feel like king and queen
We’ll yell out our names to the neighboring hills
Then wait for our echoes to talk to us
And we’ll breathe in the fresh dewy air of love
You, me and us
We’ll run out of the house in the year’s first monsoons
Drench ourselves in the pouring rains
We’ll tell each other how sexy we look when wet
Then let our warm lips touch each other’s while we are still shivering
And we’ll return home for a cutting chai and hot pakodas
You, me and us
We’ll set out for long drives
Never knowing where we’re headed
We’ll play our favorite music and sing along
Till our throats are parched and we realize there’s no water in the car
Then we’ll blame each other for forgetting the water and keep singing
You, me and us
We’ll quarrel over petty things
And fling sugar jars at each other like a baseball
We’ll shed some tears and forget what we were fighting about
And apologize a million times
Then we’ll make love for hours and make it all up
You, me and us
We’ll spend all day in warm arms
Talking about everything and nothing
We’ll share our fears and dreams, swearing everything’s secrecy
Then we’ll know each other some more
And wonder in awe about how much more there is yet to know
You, me and us
And when we’re tired beyond compare
We’ll fall asleep on the other’s shoulder
And know we’ll be taken care of till we grow old together
And we’ll live and love, we’ll love and live
Like vagabonds, till we close our eyes for the final time
You, me and us
Then crush them with our feet
We’ll draw a big heart near the waves
Then watch it wash out by the sea
And we’ll see the sun go down while munching on candyfloss
You, me and us
We’ll run up to a hill top
And feel like king and queen
We’ll yell out our names to the neighboring hills
Then wait for our echoes to talk to us
And we’ll breathe in the fresh dewy air of love
You, me and us
We’ll run out of the house in the year’s first monsoons
Drench ourselves in the pouring rains
We’ll tell each other how sexy we look when wet
Then let our warm lips touch each other’s while we are still shivering
And we’ll return home for a cutting chai and hot pakodas
You, me and us
We’ll set out for long drives
Never knowing where we’re headed
We’ll play our favorite music and sing along
Till our throats are parched and we realize there’s no water in the car
Then we’ll blame each other for forgetting the water and keep singing
You, me and us
We’ll quarrel over petty things
And fling sugar jars at each other like a baseball
We’ll shed some tears and forget what we were fighting about
And apologize a million times
Then we’ll make love for hours and make it all up
You, me and us
We’ll spend all day in warm arms
Talking about everything and nothing
We’ll share our fears and dreams, swearing everything’s secrecy
Then we’ll know each other some more
And wonder in awe about how much more there is yet to know
You, me and us
And when we’re tired beyond compare
We’ll fall asleep on the other’s shoulder
And know we’ll be taken care of till we grow old together
And we’ll live and love, we’ll love and live
Like vagabonds, till we close our eyes for the final time
You, me and us
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Work of Art
What could be a good enough reward for a work of art? What does a true artist crave for? Is it money? Fame? Acceptance? Praise? Constructive criticism? A mention in the history books?
No, I don't think so. I think what a good artist truly craves is an audience.
As you might have guessed, I have a selfish motive behind this article. And here it is - Please keep reading my blog and do comment, so I know you are reading :) An audience is all this amateur needs to believe she is an artist!
No, I don't think so. I think what a good artist truly craves is an audience.
As you might have guessed, I have a selfish motive behind this article. And here it is - Please keep reading my blog and do comment, so I know you are reading :) An audience is all this amateur needs to believe she is an artist!
The Solitary Walker
After much deliberation, I set out yesterday for a walk in the biting cold, my regular thing. As I opened the door to step out into the big bad world, there came the pressing urgency to run back into the comfort heating of my home. Thankfully I knew better and kept walking. The need to scurry survived just a few minutes. About ten minutes into my walk, I realized that getting out was the best decision of my day.
As I battled my way against the strong winds, my hair flying in all directions, my nose Rudolf red, my lips pursed in silence, I felt as brave as a world war commander-in-chief. And yet, I meekly pulled up the cap of my jacket. I was wearing my glasses as opposed to contacts, since the last time I went out like this, my eyes had started to water in the cold breeze. My hands tucked into my pockets, I was fully covered except for the face. In due time torture transformed to near-normalcy as my body heated up from the walk. I soon had the upper hand. Finally my mind had an opportunity to think out-of-the-cold.
I observed the complete lack of life around me, barring some school kids rushing back home from their school bus, and the cars swooshing by. Everyone was in a hurry to get back home (it was late afternoon by now). There was no chirping of birds, no swishing of trees, no hissing of insects, no shine of the sun (the sun was taking an afternoon power-nap somewhere behind the dark clouds). All I had for company were the naked trees, the salt-like snow, the snow-like salt, the wild breeze, and the nerve-numbing cold. Mr. Weatherman, this 'felt like' being one with nature.
As I walked I made my own path through the unpaved walk-ways, crushing the soft snow beneath my sneakers. I left on it my footprints to stay, till they were erased by the next walker, or by the next snow pour. At first I was worried I might slip and fall, but I decided I shouldn't worry too much, since falling wouldn't be too bad anyways. With so much snow to cushion me, I wouldn't have hurt myself. So I marched on with a skip in my step and delight in my heart.
On my return along the path to head home, I witnessed a most beautiful sight. The very sun that appeared all elusive and shy, was now flaunting his million orange-red rays right into my path, so I would notice. He probably wanted to say hello and goodbye at the same time. He was ostentatiously retiring after a hard day's work, and I think needed some appreciation for his unending toil. I graciously took in the breath-taking view.
There were a few moments during my walk when I was thinking about nothing, I was just walking. And thereby was the purpose served.
As I battled my way against the strong winds, my hair flying in all directions, my nose Rudolf red, my lips pursed in silence, I felt as brave as a world war commander-in-chief. And yet, I meekly pulled up the cap of my jacket. I was wearing my glasses as opposed to contacts, since the last time I went out like this, my eyes had started to water in the cold breeze. My hands tucked into my pockets, I was fully covered except for the face. In due time torture transformed to near-normalcy as my body heated up from the walk. I soon had the upper hand. Finally my mind had an opportunity to think out-of-the-cold.
I observed the complete lack of life around me, barring some school kids rushing back home from their school bus, and the cars swooshing by. Everyone was in a hurry to get back home (it was late afternoon by now). There was no chirping of birds, no swishing of trees, no hissing of insects, no shine of the sun (the sun was taking an afternoon power-nap somewhere behind the dark clouds). All I had for company were the naked trees, the salt-like snow, the snow-like salt, the wild breeze, and the nerve-numbing cold. Mr. Weatherman, this 'felt like' being one with nature.
As I walked I made my own path through the unpaved walk-ways, crushing the soft snow beneath my sneakers. I left on it my footprints to stay, till they were erased by the next walker, or by the next snow pour. At first I was worried I might slip and fall, but I decided I shouldn't worry too much, since falling wouldn't be too bad anyways. With so much snow to cushion me, I wouldn't have hurt myself. So I marched on with a skip in my step and delight in my heart.
On my return along the path to head home, I witnessed a most beautiful sight. The very sun that appeared all elusive and shy, was now flaunting his million orange-red rays right into my path, so I would notice. He probably wanted to say hello and goodbye at the same time. He was ostentatiously retiring after a hard day's work, and I think needed some appreciation for his unending toil. I graciously took in the breath-taking view.
There were a few moments during my walk when I was thinking about nothing, I was just walking. And thereby was the purpose served.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Izhar
A blog about me expressing me. The little minutiae in my mind that I'm sure everyone would relate to. An honest attempt to capture everything around me, through my thoughts.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)