Surprises from dusty corners....smell good

The week, so far, has been lived in the midst of dusty rooms, piles of junk, smelly clothes, heaps and heaps of things sorted into wanted, unwanted, may-be wanted, not-sure if its wanted, etc lists. And then there is a pile that is still being argued over (by partner and me) on which category to be put in. Packing and shifting is no easy task, and not fun either! Of course there is that sudden joy when you discover that 'I-am-sure-I-have-lost-it' item from a torn cover in some corner of your cupboard. And the big smile that flashes when you find an old college-days album or an old card from a special someone. Then the gold treasures you discover: that pair of ear-ring or chain you believed you had lost, for which you have suffered your mom's shouts and screams.

Now those were the feel-happy finds! It isn't as exciting to find that pair of your favourite old jeans, which was tucked away b'coz your waist no longer feels comfortable in there. It screams for a bigger, wider space. All those lovely pictures from great trips that you did during your 'when-I-was-single' days or 'still-honeymooning' days. Finding bank account statements while the account was happier and heavier. Then there was this little box which evoked a happy-sad feeling. Out from it came little love notes, cards with sweet somethings scribbled and smileys drawn all over, little slips of paper with the most romantic wordings...all  memories of a past--loved and lost.
By the end of it all, I was glad for the days of packing and unpacking. Thanks for the little forgotten surprises it threw up, the wonderful memories it brought back, the little snapshots of a life well-lived and enjoyed. In the midst of dusty, messy rooms, with cartons and boxes of memories....

Girls, I miss you

This post is dedicated to two dear friends who shall be referred to as N and T in the blog. N is now in Bangalore married to her childhood sweetheart and mother to an adorable little girl. T is now in the US, married to a handsome man and mommy to two darling children--a boy and a little princess. Why pick them from among my huge friends group. Are they dearer to me than the many others, or have I known them longer than others, or have they been my shoulder-to-cry-on. It's nothing too emotional, actually. Some things, some pictures, some conversations, some reads take you back in time (Yes I haven't fully recovered from the Past-Forward syndrome) to old schools, old faces, old friends, old memories. Memories: some are faded and slightly forgotten, some others are fresh and forever.
N and T are part of my fresh & forever memories. Friends from school--we have been together a long long time-- we have shared some hilarious, heartening, heartbreaking and crazy times together. The group had more members, some with whom am still in touch, some others who have disappeared. We have done the crazy, the weird, the unthinkables...have been other's support, strength, agony aunt, punching bag...wept together over lost loves, laughed & celebrated birthdays, loves and many special moments.
Fifteen years later we still cherish the friendship, though we don't get time to catch up as often as we'd like to. I can't remember the last time three of us got together. I haven't even seen some of the kids. But we know we still care, we still enjoy the company, we still love to hear from each other, we long to see pictures of each other's family, our faces break into a smile when we find one another online, we would love to meet up and relive some of the mad fun of past years.

The birthday treats, the shopping sessions, the movie outings, the school days, the college times, the scooter rides, the stay-overs, the secret adventures, the secret crushes we shared...and so much more. Cheers to our friendship! I love the times and I soooo miss you girls.

PS: Dear N & T... you know who you are, right!

Dusty, dull...that's the way I like it. Ahaaa!

A faded brown, a dusty look, the smell of a forgotten existence in some corner of the shelf, a used-and-abandoned feeling...this is how I like my books. The spotless, shiny book covers, the white pages with bright black ink that almost throws the contents on to your face, the handle-with-care look, the fresh, unused feeling is not something I enjoy. Yes I am one of those people who like to buy books rather than borrow, read and return. My growing up years have, I confess, been spend in Lending Libraries where I did exactly this: borrow, read, return and pay for the pages. But I've always tried to keep a note of some of the books I have thoroughly enjoyed or books that have impacted me in some way or books where some chapters have remained deeply etched in my mind or some books that hold an emotional quotient (maybe I find the author charming or maybe I am in love with the title or simply because it's the favourite book of my first crush!). Later, when I could afford the money and the time, I have tried to find these and add them to my little collection of books.
There, inside the dusty shelves of my cupboard, they lay for months...sometimes years. Until a friend would ask to borrow it or I would suddenly rediscover my love for it and search it out from the many boxes/shelves. And then when I see its shiny clean surface replaced by a dusty coat and find the pages to have a new-found dullness, I fall in love with it all over again. There's something about the perfectly packed, new, glossy look of books that I don't quite enjoy. For me books have to have a secret life of their own, their own years of memories, their own many experiences...and with this they age into the dull, dusty look.

It may seem funny, but when I pick up books (I rarely buy books in 1s, it's always a set of 4 or 5 for me) and bring them home, I right away stack them into my shelf, amidst the many other reads that's ageing in there. As they go in, I pick up a couple of earlier buys that were stored to age gracefully and I spend the rest of my days reading through them. And then a month or more later, I pick up the other lot which has now enriched itself by sharing experiences and stories with its fellow bookers...and has attained the antique-look. The allergic in me does burst into continuous, almost-nonstop sneezing sessions when I retrieve these books from the dusty corners, but that's the way I like it. Ahaaaa!

My family rocks!

I have often been asked: "Do you miss having a sibling?" The answer is YES by all means. I have always felt a sense of loneliness, missed having a brother/sister to fight with, share things with, have fun with...and whatever else comes with it. Many a times I've heard people say: "Oh he is so difficult and adamant. He doesn't adjust at all. It's because he's been the only child and had it his way always." OR "She doesn't mingle with anyone, always stays aloof and quiet. This is what happens if you grow up alone, with no brothers or sisters."

I believe that growing up as a single child pushes you to either of the two extremes: an absolute introvert or a total extrovert. Me falls in the latter, and no one would dispute that...am sure! I can't remember when friends and friendships first entered my life, but they were here to stay. I enjoy being with people, love company and always had a huge bunch of friends. I remember my school days, if my parents or anyone said a word negative about my friends, I would be fuming with anger. I didn't know the depth or true essence of friendship then. For me fun meant friends, laughter meant time with friends and if I was down and low, I would again run to friends. Over the years I started respecting, admiring and appreciating my friends a lot more and shared a special bond with each of them. I still do.

In the midst of all this, I somehow ignored family. Family functions, family visits, time with relatives...none of this pleased me. I would turn grumpy at the very mention of it. Spending time with relatives at my ancestral home was never my idea of fun. My heart would still be with my friends, munching popcorn and clapping inside a theatre, or downing ice-creams or just roaming the streets.

Today, more than a decade later, I have begun to appreciate and admire my family too. Does it have to do with my 'motherhood' status. Well, I don't know. One thing I do know is that motherhood has definitely made me respect, admire, appreciate and adore my mother more than ever. The feeling's now spread to the rest of my family too: uncles, aunts, grandparents, cousins and the little ones. Why this sudden love for family! Well, we had a family get together at my mother's maternal home. Almost every member of the family made it to the two-day function. Their spirit and happiness was indeed contagious. I was definitely excited about it, but they were all ecstatic about it.

A few hours with them, and I realised how simple they all are. It's so easy to make them smile and brighten their day. Just walk up to them with a smile, give a warm hug, say hello...and see the sparkle in their teary eyes. They don't make such people any more: simple, straight forward, honest, innocent and full of love. From the youngest member to the oldest, each shared the same spirit, energy and joy in making the day special for all.

Memories of the days bygone, tales from the past...it was a nostalgic trip. We payed respects to our dear departed ones and welcomed the new members. Every word spoken, every story told, every experience shared, every photo shown...had millions of memories attached to it, and stirred a thousand emotions in each of us. It was an emotional rollercoaster ride for all: smiling one moment, teary eyed the very next moment, suddenly bursting into loud laughters and again slipping into an emotional silence. The effort behind compiling the rare and precious moments from our lives and giving us a chance to once again wallow in those memories needs to be lauded.

The two days went by laughing, smiling, playing games, sharing memories, tears and joys...leaving us all with a heavy heart and happy mind. It was time to say g'bye and we left with a promise to come back here again, next year. I am looking forward to being with my family yet again...very soon...And I hope to make up for the years I missed, spread more smiles and love them more.

My family rocks!!!

For the kisses & kicks...love you all

Logged in to write a thought that popped up after a chat with a good friend earlier in the day. But as is my ritual, I had to check out the other blogs I follow and enjoy reading, and I found a post that had me all emotional. The writer of the blog is not a friend/acquaintance but can't call her stranger (at least not anymore). I know her through her blog, which I find extremely enjoyable. A few comments on couple of her posts made sure we were no longer strangers. In fact we even referred to each other as soulmates, after some of our gourmet etiquettes were found to be embarassingly similar.
This is not about my new-found blog friend, but about a post written by her. An email from a friend from the past and a phone call to the same friend inspired her to pen the post. Once again I found so much of me in her words, in the post, in the emotions described. My best, strongest, craziest and most intimate friendships are from school and college. I still cherish them, hold them close my heart. I know that even if we haven't had time (or made the effort) to catch up on each other or haven't managed to make it for each other's special days or didn't call up the last time he/she was here in town...nothing will change. One phone call, one meeting is all it takes to bring back the same emotions, same joy, same fondness that we shared years ago.

We still find ourselves welcoming each other with a thumping back-slap or hi-fi or the 'beep' words and soon we are rattling off about the good times: the inter-house culturals, the Holi celebrations which had us suspended, the sip-ups and ice-sticks from the canteen, the combined study sessions, movie outings, birthday treats, affairs (some survived, some died a sad death while some celebrated the end), teachers, gossip, exercusions and so much more. School, college and its memories fill the conversations, leaving no space or time for anything else.
We have a hearty laugh at the many fights, arguments we had over things that now seem silly, rag each other about the stupidities we've done, regretted over fights that cost us our friendship, and then laughed and laughed over our old photographs--the dance costumes, the farewell parties, the fashion shows, the Onam/Christmas celebrations, Union elections...
I could pick one friend after another and go on about the wonderful moments we shared. The infamous gangs we had in school, college and even today in our lives. Somewhere along we became professionals and met more people, made new friends, lived great times, shared laughter, tears (and bottles of Bacardi Breezers and Vodkas). Sometimes we sense a feeling of oneness after barely a hello or sometimes even without it. In my last organisation, I had developed a feeling of familiarity and friendship with my neighbour-colleague even before I met her. She was on her maternity leave while I joined. From day one, I had people telling me how similar I was to Her: my loud laughter, one-track mind that often steered to the dirty track, my wild manners, don't care sense of dressing, and guess what we both are Leos, both our husbands are Scorpios. By the time she was back to work (almost 4 months after I joined) we were already buddies. From neighbours at office, we soon became neighbours outside office too. I believe it's just a feeling that hits off a relationship. I am happy about every one of them I have and I love each of them.
Cheers to the many people who've made my life special in their own ways with their kisses and kicks. Thanks to Anne, my blogger friend, for taking me down this trip.
Any interesting/funny/emotional friendship tales to share? 

P.S: I have not mentioned any names for there are too many people who have taken over my heart, mind and soul. Someday I'll do a series on each of you. For now...luvya, missya..muahhh.

Just so that I don't forget what I originally wanted to write on, am leaving a hint hint here 'Concern Vs Curiosity'.

That day...that year...

A peep into the past is a refresher for me. I often wonder if I'm still stuck somewhere in the 1990s or early 2000. A picture, a person, a place, a movie, an incident, an advertisement...so many things that instantaneously transports me to the past: to a memory, to a person, to a relationship, to a day, to a celebration. Today, it was a chat box that blinked to tell me that a special someone from my past is available (well only for a chat through that lil window, sadly). I, without a thought, click open a chat box and key in the customary 'Hey wassup. U thr?'. Not for a second wondering if he would be with his boss working on a presentation, or discussing projects with a client, or be playing online games with his lil daughter or checking out family albums with his wife.
As luck would have it, he wasn't doing any of these. Well I don't think so. Coz he promptly replied, a rather enthusiastic one (inferred from the many emoticons on display). Before we knew it, we were back to 'that' day in Chennai around 10 years ago, rewinding the events and wondering why the day ended the way it did. Why did we act the way we did (dumb, pretentious) or why we didn't do it the way we should have (honest, fearless). Turning back in time and wishing for it to change doesn't work, it only helps you have a hearty laugh over those days or sometimes leave you sighing over things that you wished you had done differently.
Here we were chatting after many many years. The long absence--in sight and in sound--of many years never surfaced in our conversation. Our relationship remained just as fresh, sweet, enjoyable and entertaining as it was. We were just as crazy, as wacky, as naughty, as intimate as we were when we last met. This happens only in some relations, only in some friendships.
The years, and the change in roles (he's a husband and a father now. I'm a wife and mommy too) somehow allowed us the space and freedom to be more open and frank with each other. We shared things we secretly wished to share a decade ago, we asked each other questions we wanted answers for many many years ago; I found myself opening up a little too much than I normally would. It's always a pleasure to bare your soul to people who have a patient ear, a sensitive mind and a loving heart.
We hope to meet up sometime, hopefully in Chennai itself, refresh our friendship and maybe relive 'that' day the way we wanted it to play out. Somewhere amidst the talk, the chat window told me he's gone 'offline'. He disappeared...suddenly..without a g'bye. Here I was, still stuck in 'that' day of that year. Maybe I'll catch him blinking a green 'available' sign sometime soon.

The stories within a dusty album...

A small, but not too light, black (mostly) rectangular box-like gadget with a round lens in front, a few buttons on the top or side, an extra square block of light called the "flash", a coma-like fixture that was the rewind button...this is my first image of a camera. One had to slide open its back and insert a film roll (an act I still haven't perfected), close it, do a random 1-2 clicks to check if all's well and you're ready to go. What I loved most was how the tiny almost dot-like number screen jumped everytime a click was made. Most film rolls gave you a maximum of 36 clear pictures, while some would give you a bonus of 1 or 2 more pictures.
The film roll was the most crucial element of the camera, and also often the most forgotten. How many of us can recall at least one incident wherein we went click, click, click only to realise we had forgotten to 'load' the camera!
Soon the blacks gave way to brighter, more attractive colours, that came in lightweight forms, especially for kids. The shapes too had minor alterations: oval, cartoon characters, etc. Bu the mechanism basically remained the same: load batteries, load film, do a check click, and of course do not forget to rewind after the clicks. Soon there were auto rewind models introduced which would do the job automatically once the film roll was complete.
The rolls showed only a series of blackish greyish images, and we'd rush to the studio to give color n life to these images. There's this exciting wait for a few days, wherein we are hoping the photographs turn out just the way we want and secretly praying that all our un-impressive shots get magically developed into stunners. The minute we get the cover with the photographs, all heads n hands come together. Soon there are giggles, laughter, comments, exclamatory sighs and wows...For days we'd be checking out the photographs, and enjoying the moments.
Somehow my father never was too keen on cameras or was it that he didn't enjoy photography at all. But I have seen some interesting pictures of his from his long-haired, side-burn-style college days to the more refined, Ray Ban-wearing business man days and now to the khadi-clad, salt n pepper bearded grandfather days. Guess he preferred being a model to photographer and so never quite felt the need to own a camera. But I did manage to find one when I needed, thanks to loving uncles and friends. Today the images gifted by those cameras lie suffocated in thick albums, stacked away in some dusty corner of some shelf in my room. Until a few years ago, I did flip through them occasionally and it never once failed to ignite a spark of nostalgia in me. Almost all the pictures had a story to tell: of friendship, fights, after-fight handshakes, lovers' tiff, childhood romances, secret crushes, favourite teachers...and of course the now-shocking haircuts and dresses.
Today film rolls are almost extinct. Digital cameras that are sleek, colorful, higher in clarity and absolutely easy to use have taken over. Today the process is much simpler, No film rolls, no rewind buttons, no running to studios and of course no albums to gather dust. It's just click and view. And if you aren't happy, you can just delete it and re-shoot. Very few get transferred to actual prints, while most others get 'posted' onto 'online albums' like Picasa, Kodak Gallery, etc. Definitely far more easier and faster, but the spontaneity and fun of the moment is lost because most snaps are rehearsed and perfected.
Many of my friends have, in the recent days, been 'uploading' albums titled Back then, Good Ol' Days, Nostalgia, etc...and each of them is a collection of snapshots from the past, some blurred, some hazy images of the days bygone. The clarity is missing, but the emotion is alive. Thank you my loved ones for once again taking me back in time when people had more time, when life was simpler, more fun, less pretentious, and relationships were wrapped in emotions, love, sensitivity, and some crazy drama too. Cheers to the good times!


(PS: I will put up some pics from the good times as soon as I retrieve them from their dusty dungeon.)