Got this fwd from a dear friend of mine - Joyce. even though i am not THAT old and grey hair just beginning to show, i still love the essence of this message. And what timing. This one is for those who just blew out another candle on their cake - Madhuri, Fats, Mili, Gana.
I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less grey hair or a flatter belly. As I've aged, I've become kinder to myself, and less critical of myself.
I've become my own friend. I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly curio I didn't need, but looks so avante garde.
I am entitled to a treat, to be messy, to be extravagant. I have seen too many people leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.
Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 AM and sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 90s & Y2Ks, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love ... I will.
I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set. They, too, will get old.
I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And I eventually remember the important things.
Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.
I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning grey, to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face, to love with passion, to learn from my experiences. At least getting there. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver.
As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore. I've even earned the right to be wrong.
So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day (if I feel like it).
“…it meant so much to me. It was like seeing you my b’day was complete…”
Small contribution, big significance – for me and Mili.
Ever since the new job, I’ve been extremely busy that I’ve only received complaints from all and sundry – even my folks. Of course, everyone who knows is happy that I’m where I am and this is my break, but seems like that’s the only place I am at all the time.
That or my couch.
Mili and I used to talk everyday when she was in blr and almost every other day when she moved to Chennai. Those were the days. Now I find that some times I don’t text back or return calls for days together. It’s not something I am proud of, but that’s whats happening now. And I wish I could time manage myself better.
Again, those who know me, know that vista of me too!
Anyway, for a long time I didn’t see any communiqué from M, and I knew she was mighty upset and titting for tat. So I decided that since her b’day fell on a Sunday I’d surprise her with a visit. Executed the plan with help from a colleague and P. It couldn’t have been more perfect. The look on her face was worth it.
I was in Chennai for 24 hours and the whole family (P, M & J) spent almost all the precious time with moi. I only slept for 4-5 hours. The bonding happened with M & J. J remembered some of the nasty tricks I had taught him the last time I spent time with him (back in april), and I warmed up. BTW, M says the minute he reaches the age of ‘reckoning’, she’s keeping J far far far away from me J, lest V-aundy introduces him to the birds and bees before he ‘needs’ to know.
I left Chennai with a happy heart, refreshed with my change of scene and activities, renewed relationships and knowing that I made a difference to one of my best friend’s is-special day. And I felt good. Yep.
What a differenence. A mere thought, action or word can do.
To all my friends. Our time will come, and when it does I hope I’ll be able to make that difference.
Love is blind. It truly is. I’ve been down that road over and over and over. Before you think about my headcount, you’d better stop and start feet count.
Let’s not run around and wear the feet or soles or souls out. I’m talking about shoes here. I love shoes. I have too many of them. It is a violent love affair.
When I slip on a pair of shoes and strut around in the showroom and realize that my feet look good in them, I immediately fall in love with them. And therefore immediately get blinded by the love…and then the big day comes when I proclaim to the whole world that I’m in love. In the beginning it seems fine, then as the hours go by – bam – it hits me…what a big mistake. And it pinches and hurts in all the wrong places! And messes up the entire day.
So I bought these pair of black pointed heeled pumps. They looked good as is and on my feet, even better. I think I was just so kicked with the fact that I found a really nice looking pair of shoes that actually fit me well and goes with all my clothes that I didn’t look beyond…(don’t we all do that sometimes..and not just when it comes to shoes :D)…I have very small feet. There’s a joke that goes around among a few of my friends… “how do your feet balance your body” (go figure J)…back to my love affair.
And it was priced so right that I swept it up without second thoughts…when I walked around the shoestore, I felt like I commanded the entire world and everyone was looking upto me. Power. And sexiness. The things I can do with that point. Yep, that’s what I felt.
And then, warped-ol-me decided to bring them out on a very big day at work. When I needed to be walking around and be on my feet from 8am right till 11pm. Our CFO was visiting and I was coordinating a whole lot of programmes and the running the evening show for the who’s who…with sore feet.
I mean it started off very well…I drove to work and when I stepped out of the car – glitch #1: it started slipping off…suddenly it seemed as if the shoes were a wee-bit big for me…then after sometime, glitch #2: I realized pains that I haven’t felt before…stuffed some tissue into the shoe so that they don’t slip off (imagine falling face first in front of someone important)…managed to get through the day. glitch #3: and the amount of clicking and clacking it made on the uncarpeted floors…jeez..made me want to disappear…as you can expect I decided to choose when to walk and where to walk to…needless to say by the end of the day, the minute the bigger of the who’s who walked out of the evening programme, out came the shoes and I was free!
My poor feet felt alive and blessed to be out of the torture. I walked around the leela barefeet, drove barefeet, soaked my barefeet in a tub of hot water, creamed and caressed them, and went to bed feeling happy that at the end of the day they were pampered enough that they don’t turn on me. Though I did yearn for a foot massage ;)
Learning #1: really, pay attention to the comfort of the shoe. Screw the heel and the feeling of power/sexiness that comes with it. Choose wisely, buy carefully.
Learning #2: really, don’t wear new shoes on a really important day. Run them in first!!!
Learning #3: really, if you have to wear new shoes on a big day, plaster your weak spots to protect against shoebites
Learning #4: really, your day can be so messed up physically and mentally, if you are not wearing comfortable footwear…you don’t feel good enough to do anything! And everything goes for a toss, especially the missed opportunities
Learning #5: really, there is nothing like the comfort of old shoes, old wine and old friends.
Must listen to New-Shoes crooner Palo Nutini more carefully now…try and figure out what he really means… :D
It’s been some time since I wrote.
Do I need to rephrase that to something more emphatic?
Lots of things happened over the last few months. By the way, my last post was in January and it’s now July. Jeez times flies and how!
Was walking a very unfamiliar path back then. And after some deliberation thought I might as well embrace the adventures of the unknown path and make the best of it – experience the unknown, the whims and fancies of an unscheduled unplanned journey, when out of the blue came something irresistible. Those of you who know me know what I am talking about.
So I got promptly sucked back into corporate life. Of course, I didn’t even think twice because the company was just too hard to resist. I thoroughly enjoyed my interview experience. Absolutely think high of my bosses (honestly – some of you know why I esp. focus on this). A global brand, fantastic people culture, the largest in revenue across companies (international), diverse and inclusive, open and transparent work style, consensus oriented, NOT IT-related (thank goodness for that!), value intelligence (really!), and the list goes on! Anyhoo, I’m in a really happy place now work-wise and the feeling is refreshing. I contribute more efficiently, feel part of the bigger picture, am motivated and I enjoy what I do. What a change from the turmoil and the oh-no-I-have-to-go-to-office feelings that preceded seashell. Happy happy joy joy!:D
So new company, new profile, new colleagues, new work timings, new car, new outlook. Wait don’t I need something old, something borrowed and something blue?
My first post for 2009.
Almost 2 weeks late, but hey - better late than never, aint it!
i've been a wee bit busy travelling, bonding with folks, and fighting some demons on the way. Emotionally tired after it all, but charged to move ahead...so it was a welcome change to be at home this last weekend, and to do....absolutely nothing.
did read the papers page to page. :) And it is with an interesting article, from the opinion section of TOI, that i have decided to start off posting in 2009.
Mr. Jug'gler with the JUGULAR VEIN, you help me laugh away my Saturday hangovers...
Calendar daze
Jug Suraiya
A fringe benefit of the economic downturn is that people have stopped sending out calendars and diaries. Remember how it used to be? Come the start of the year and you’d get a bunch of calendars, with a couple of diaries thrown in for good measure. The calendars were from big business houses, hotel chains, your local halwai, and they all had pictures: of major construction projects, of exotic holiday resorts where beautiful young things reclined in hammocks sipping complicated-looking drinks through straws, of well-fleshed gods and goddesses who were a divine testimonial to the virtues of asli ghee. I found the calendars useful, for covering the patch on the wall where a bit of the plaster had come off, or where a swatted mosquito had left a splatty brownish-red stain. The diaries didn’t have pictures. But they had their uses too. I used them to jot down random telephone numbers (random because i never remembered to put a name with the number, with the result that we had a collection of numbers that would have done a phone directory proud except we hadn’t a clue as to whom any of those numbers belonged), make grocery lists, and do the weekly sabzi hisaab.
I found plenty of uses for all those calendars and diaries and was grateful to the kind souls who’d been considerate enough to send them to me. The problem was that they gave me a guilt trip. The calendars and diaries, that is, not the people who sent them. And the reason for this was that a question kept nagging me: that while those calendars and diaries were undoubtedly being put to use, were they being put to the use they were meant for? And the answer, i had to admit, was ‘No’.
Calendars, and, even more so perhaps, diaries, are markers, or milestones, if you like, which chart the course of that invisible, intangible and relentless stream called time, which bears us along, often without our realising it, from moment to moment, day to day, year to year, birth to the other thing. Calendars, and diaries, are reminders, wake-up calls, which make us ask ourselves: are we making the most of the gift of time, can we “fill the unforgiving minute/With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run?” And in my case, the answer was a resounding ‘Nope’.
For instance, did Jan 1 on my calendar feature the reminder ‘Power breakfast with PM and PC’? Did my diary contain the Jan 1 entry ‘Teleconference with Bill G and W Buffett. Gave Warren some market tips and brought Bill up to speed on 3G convergence’? Uh, uh. Jan 1 on my calendar would likely be marked ‘Don’t forget the Saridon for hangover’. And the diary would probably say ‘1 kg Surfmatic, Amul cheese slices for Brindle, 2 toilet rolls, and WHERE’S THE GODDAM SARIDON??’ Not Samuel Pepys. Or Anne Frank.
So, not getting any calendars or diaries this year lets me off the hook in that i won’t feel obliged to do anything noteworthy or memorable, or indeed anything at all, in 2009. Which, so far as i’m concerned, is just fine. But is it also fine for all of us collectively, for what we call Civilisation As We’ve Got Accustomed To?
If on Jan 1, 30,000 BC, some unknown bright spark hadn’t inked onto his calendar ‘Must discover fire’ and in his diary for the same date ‘Invented wheel — now waiting for someone to invent General Motors. Boy, what a killing i’ll make’, would humankind have progressed so as to face the greatest global economic crisis ever? No way. And how are we going to get out of this crisis unless people like the PM, and PC, and Bill, and Warren, and you, buzz around like performance-enhanced bees and get things done? But how are you going to get anything done unless you have a calendar and a diary to motivate you to do it? Tell you what. Since no one else is sending them around, i’ll send everyone calendars and diaries. I’ll mark that on my calendar to remind myself to do so. Heck. Don’t have one, do i?
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