Rubberbands...

I have had a few friendships in my lifetime but none like this one. 

Should I even call this a friendship ?

But then what better word do I have for two people who met by chance, enjoyed each other's company, discussed, bickered, joked, rambled and fought - only to start all over again?

But we certainly are strange friends.... to fight like kids at times only to take off from where we left, as if nothing happened in between (well, almost !).

Its a relationship that I fail to understand - for every time I give up and decide to let go of things, you come up with your silly questions and adorable expressions, only to make me forget, if not to forgive.

This relationship has become like a rubberband. We stay in touch, and pull each other's legs only to ultimately snap at each other. And then as the tension diffuses, the friendship is back on track almost as if nothing happened. And the cycle repeats - with no end in sight. But then with every snap and tug, we go closer and closer to the final break, when the bonds that hold us together will be frayed beyond repair and will no longer be able to keep us bound. And I don't want to go to that place where fond memories are permanently replaced by bitter, angry ones. Where talking doesn't come as effortlessly as it does now. Where fear of saying something wrong is stronger than the comfort of silence. 

I have been there and managed to come back - perhaps one too many times. And this constant coil and recoil is wearing me out... I wish there would be an end, one way or the other - this side or the other ! 

Rendezvousing with the past....

Cities are where I have spent the most of my life, intentionally or unintentionally. While I have fond memories of going back to my village, with time I have realized that cities are where I am most comfortable in. Despite all my complaints about that mass of humanity, the confluence of smells, colors and sounds that invariably overwhelm me, I know now that they also give me comfort in familiarity. Having lived in a few cities - Delhi, Bangalore and now San Diego, I have often wondered, which one is home for me - where I grew up, when I found myself or where I built my own home... ? I have often concluded (wrongly perhaps) that the designation of home only went to the one where my family resided but I now realize that it is more complicated than that. 

Cities in many ways are like people - I either like them enough to try and become friends with or just try and stay away. Some cities have grown on me over the years and I have grown out of some others. Delhi is the city which was home for almost a quarter of a century. I have grown with the city and still, when I left, it was a perfunctory goodbye. There was never a sense of departure. It always felt like I will come back to it, but then that's not how things played out and eventually its been a long time that I ve been to that city. And so, in many ways, I grew out of Delhi almost like growing out of a style statement. Never really, acknowledging it but still drifting away from it one day at a time. 

In the vacuum left behind by Delhi and its people, another city and its people found their niche. As a city, it changed a lot during my relatively short stay there and it has grown on me. I found myself in this city through friends, work and family and it is what i call my home today. I long to go back to it but for my people. 

Delhi on the other hand has a life of its own and I realized it when the opportunity of going back to it came up. For some reason, although I have no roots in that city now, I still long to go back; not to meet anyone, but to meet the city itself. Like the thought of meeting an old lover, meeting Delhi again after many years, thrilled me, excited me and terrified me. Imagining the roads, the lanes, the shops and the shopkeepers. Will things still be the same ? If i go back, will I find the road that I used to take to walk back home when i needed to think ? Who will I find in our old house ? Will the old neighbours still be there ? Will the markets still be there ? Will the city remember me now that I have no one there ? I doubt. But then, perhaps the owner of the old saree shop at SN market would remember me for the hours I spent chatting at every visit... ? Perhaps, I will still remember some of the old lanes around the house ? Perhaps, the maze in M. will still be the same and perhaps I will still get lost in the crowds ? 

Even though I have lived in Delhi for the most of my life, I have never known it well enough. Like a young man in love, the city had always revealed itself differently to me. In fact, even today, all i want to do is to go and see it with a new pair of eyes. To see it like the tourists, because there is so much that i still don't know. The narrow lanes of Old Delhi, the smells of paranthas and jalebis wafting from the old gallis, the clothes drying everywhere, the gallis selling books by the dozen - there are many places that I haven't been to and there are many that I don't remember any more. But, now, when I have the chance of visiting it one more time, I want to explore it all over again. I want to revisit the old and I want to explore the new. I want to see the city through the eyes of my camera because somehow that is when the world seems real to me... strange as this may sound, it is true ! The camera let's me see a world that I would have otherwise not seen; it makes me pay attention to colors, contrasts, lights, angles and textures which would have all otherwise escaped my attention. I want to go back and trace some of those old contacts which used to mean so much but to whom I didn't really bid farewell because it never felt necessary. I want to haggle with those store owners just like before and i want to run behind the buses for old times sake...  ;)

Yes, there was so much I never used to like - the dust, the smoke, the paan stains, the smell of dried urine at the corners, the mass of humanity, the rudeness, the wickedness, the leery eyes on the roads.... but despite all that, Delhi beckons me. I want to end this awkward estrangement with the city. I want to meet it one more time, if only to say a final goodbye ! 

It is a city that has grown with me and in it lie buried somewhere my tears and my thoughts and my dreams of idealism. In its air, there is somewhere, the sound of wheezing lungs gasping for air and the laughter of a girl in pain. In its brick walls, there is somewhere, the girl who believed that anything could be done and that people changed. In its sounds, there is somewhere the sound of radical thought as I fought rules and tradition. In its climes, there is my childhood and my youth. 

It sure was a beautiful friendship but with time we've both grown apart, moving our different ways. But I still need to say my final goodbyes ! I still need to preserve snapshots of the friendship that was for the years to come, because, we are both still growing and soon enough, there might be very little that we may even recognize of each other.

Looking forward to meeting you again... "Dilli meri jaan" ! :) 

Chasing life and yet/so far from it...

Q - What do you want to be when you grow up ? 

A - X/Y/Z

Q - But why X/Y/Z ? 

A - Because it makes me happy (or at least I think it will make me happy). 

Q - Can you not be happy right now with what you have than by aspiring to be something and putting "living" on hold for that... ? 

 A - I wonder.... 

For so long I have been working towards a goal, an aim, that my life feels like a constant quest. There have been new milestones with every success, new questions with every answer, that it feels like the hunt is always on. 

And as I look at M, I wonder if it is the right thing to do ?

M seems happy with his life though I can see that he could have done things very differently. He could have made different choices and built a very different life where he could have fully exercised his potential. He is smart and capable and I can see that he could have been somewhere else, very different, if he had tried or wanted. Instead, he chose differently and now after almost two decades, he probably doesn't like his work so much but he is happy. He is at peace with his choices and is finding happiness by living his life. He seems to do all that I want to do at some point in the future - biking, playing, traveling, family-ing (yes, i made a verb out of it) and a little working..

I on the other hand, am at that point in life, where I have to make those choices. Should I put my life on hold and work towards something I think will make me happy. A work that (I think) will help me realize my true potential and make me happy about working or should I just live. Live with freedom. Live without to-do lists, deadlines, goals, aims, questions, decisions, dilemmas and the likes of them that plague every seeker. Or, should I just settle with one aspect of my life, so that I can actually start living with the rest of it.

What will happen two decades later ? I wonder. Would I have found the happiness I am looking for or would I still be looking... ? Some say happiness is a state of mind and I think I agree. But can you be happy when you are looking at something better and bigger all the time ? Or do you actually learn to reconcile fact and fiction. Do you learn to enjoy the chase or do you learn to settle with what you have without the chase...? Are we losing our life to chasing an elusive dream or is life woven in the chase itself ?

I guess only time will tell...

The seed of perfection...

Years ago, I first met this little seven year old girl who used to come back from school unhappy about not getting the perfect score though it was the best in the class. She had constantly been told that there is always, always, more room for improvement. She was told that unless she worked really, really hard, she would not be all that she can be. She was taught to look at people better than her to seek ways of improvement and not to feel satisfied with her accomplishments. Day after day, year after year, I still see her chasing behind that elusive goal of perfection - seeking approval from others for a job well done because in her mind, there is so much more to be done. 

More than two decades later, she still see the glass half full. She still finds it impossible to let her guard down and to just "live" - to forget about what all she has to do and to appreciate what she has done with the available resources. There is a clock ticking in her that makes it impossible to let go - to just rejoice the successes without tormenting about the failures. As a result, every success is a reminder of what more could have been done and every failure is a lesson on what shouldn't have been done. Even after years of realization of the elusive nature of perfection, she still finds it difficult to say perfect and flinches every time people around her use the word 'perfect' in an every day conversation. Perfection was (and is) the holy grail she has sought all her life realizing with time that it was just a vision - a mirage even, but she still couldn't give up the quest.

It is difficult for most to understand this relentless quest but I see that restlessness in her eyes. When I see her sitting down after completing another "task" well, I search for the joy that I see in everyone's eyes even after a modest success but in her eyes, I see a checklist - of mistakes made, of things to be done differently and of the things that remain to be done. The seed of perfection, that was sown by her teachers and parents years ago, is now so deeply rooted and demands so much that the seedlings of happiness, confidence, assurance, peace, satisfaction are unable to find any ground and flourish.

I see her eyes seeking and finding solace in words of encouragement and appreciation. I see her breathe easy for a few hours when someone acknowledges her efforts and tells her how well the job has been done. I do think it is foolish to seek for validation outside of oneself for what one has done and can do but when I see her running - breathless, unsure and critical, I want to set her down for a few minutes to just tell her how wonderful she truly is. I want to tell her that she has done remarkably well in getting through all the challenges that life imposed on her and that she has come up - the hard way and the right way. I want to watch her drift into a blissful sleep as I hold her close to me so that when she wakes up, she knows that I will always be with her. I want to walk with her every step of the way. I want to be the ground beneath her feet that gives her the confidence to build up the momentum and to take that big leap. I want to be the calming voice in her head that tells how wonderful she is every time she questions her efforts and her abilities. I want her to see herself the way some others see her - a capable, hardworking and empathetic person who has forged her way through challenges big and small. 

This post is written is with the hope of reaching that seven year old in the past and to acknowledge her efforts. To try and make her see the confident, hardworking and knowledgeable girl that everyone finds her to be. As that seed of perfection grows into a giant banyan tree, I hope that it puts out these prop roots of contentment, satisfaction and happiness that can begin a life of their own.

I hope she finds peace and happiness...

To Friends !

There are 365 (or so) days in a year and most of them are taken to celebrate one relationship or another, one emotion or another, one occasions or another. From fathers, to mothers, to brothers, to sisters, to friends and other relatives, there is a day of the year dedicated to celebrating them and the bond we share with them. Some of these days like Valentine's day are actually taken very seriously and cause quite a stir in the lives of many people. 

While many people celebrate these days with a special something - a gesture, a token of appreciation, a small wish, there are many others, the so called skeptics or cynics who brand the whole idea of dedicating days to relationships as a mere propaganda by the commercial companies, a capitalist manifesto of companies retailing gifts, cakes, flowers and cards.

I am a romantic at heart but I still dislike the idea of dedicating (just) a day in a year to people who are special to me. I'd rather do something special when I truly, deeply feel like it, on a random day of the year than when the world dictates. But then there are others who rightly say that in the fast-paced monotony of daily existence, we often forget to acknowledge those who matter to us; and that these days are an opportunity for us to stop and say what we have always meant to but just never gotten down to. 

I still don't subscribe to the thought of waiting for a day in the year to celebrate my friends or my family. And so I celebrate them whenever i can - day or no-day ! 

Today was a day of gratitude for my friends, who have brought me a lot of great memories and a lot of happiness. They have changed me and conserved me, scolded me and pampered me, laughed with me (and laughed at me ;P) and cried with me - all in good measure and I have always felt lucky to have them in my life. 

Love you, guys !

To Friends...

Quicksands and pools...

"Life is what we make of it."

"When in an unpleasant situation, work to get out of it."

"You make your life how you want it to be. Do not give up."

"If you want to change things, you have to do something."

"Throw them into the water and they shall learn to swim."

Sane advice - every one of them. Right ? 

I certainly have heard them plenty and have in turn passed the word around. 

I have said these words in my head and pushed myself to keep going - time after time. 

Every time, I was ready to give up or every time things seemed too much to deal with - too painful, to scary, too confusing and too disheartening... 

Every time all hope seemed lost, every effort seemed wasted, I have said these words to myself and cried myself to sleep. I have then woken up with swollen eyes only to make another start and to carry on. I have found hope every time circumstances forced me to abandon it. I have struggled without giving up. I have walked and walked when all I wanted to was to sleep and never wake up. I have gotten up and forged ahead when all seemed lost, with the hope that "this too shall pass". I have worked my way out of problems and proudly so !

But some days are different. Some days and some problems do not go away with mere effort and struggle. I see that now. I know now that some problems are like quicksand - they drag you faster the more you struggle. The more you try to change things, the most entangled you become and the deeper you sink. To survive them, you need to be able to bite the bullet and stay still. You need to bide your time and stay calm - waiting for the water to dry or for help to come. It doesn't need stoic courage, determination, persistence or even a mortal fight. It needs inaction. It needs tolerance and patience. 

Sometimes, not doing anything is the right thing to do. But strangely, no one teaches us that ! And no one learns about a quicksand beforehand. When we fall into it, we only think of saving ourselves from drowning. We flail our arms and legs, we battle and we rage... only to sink our selves deeper. We tire our self and loose all hope when all that was needed was some passive inaction. 

I wish I knew the quicksands from the pools. I wish i knew when to struggle and when to just let go. I wish i knew when to charge ahead and when to patiently wait. I wish I could stop struggling and just accept some things for what they are. 

I wish I could. 

Impressions...

Instinct, intuition, hunch, gut feeling, chemistry, spark, love/hate at first sight... 

These are all words that I have always been skeptical about. They seemed like these mystical abilities that some people boasted of but i never felt like i had.

When people said that they liked a couple's chemistry, I wondered, what is chemistry ? There is nothing magical that sparks between people when they meet or talk ! Its camaraderie which grows with the investment of time, energy and effort. There is nothing instantaneous about it. What does "love at first sight" even mean ? That is just physical attraction, isn't it ? I was always a skeptic when it came to those first impressions. After all what can you say with one look or one email or one conversation ? One day could always be a bad day. Could also just be nerves, excitement, tension, worry... It could be an error in judgement. It could be a slip. "May be I am being too harsh and too judgmental" - its what I always told myself ! 

Yet, I knew that every second, every minute, I was making these first impressions - of people, ideas, books, places. Of anything and everything. And so for a long time now, I had made a conscious effort to move away from this natural instinct and to give things the benefit of a second-sight and even hind-sight. But today, I am forced to admit that things are probably different. My own experience is proving me wrong. Not because i fell in love at first sight or saw some sparks fly.... ;P 

But I am amazed at how very often my first impressions turn out to be my last ones..... how if I find someone or something objectionable (even if for no apparent reason), i will keep finding myself uncomfortable around it or them even after the many chances. Sometimes, the benefit of doubt is only benefiting me to pin-point the reason for what i like or don't like and why it may be !!

Knowing that on most occasions, your instinct is probably right is a scary and unnerving thought in some ways but also relieving in some others. Today when I am forced to judge people and their characters by one email or by one paragraph, I twinge at the irrationality of it. But over the past few months, I have seen that what we pick up in the first glance only deepens with time. Rarely have I had to do a complete volte-face on my first impression. Yes, yes, i know ! There are people out there who would say that it is just confirmation bias doing its work. You form your opinion and then find reasons to support it. I cannot completely rule out the possibility but then even when I have been certain about not going by my first instinct and consciously admitted that I may be wrong, eventually, i have been proven to be right. Its strange but it seems that our conscious mind takes longer to recognize the imperceptible nuances that something deeper (call it sub-conscious) latches onto immediately.

I am certainly no big fan of "love at first sight" even now, but I do think, very often in our first impressions, we form a quick but fairly accurate picture of the situation in front of us. Its quick and dirty but its effective too. After all, it would have given us all a survival edge in our evolutionary struggle. We probably react to words, appearances, body language, context, choices, etc and quickly elicit a gut reaction (and that term is hardly a metaphor these days with a lot of studies on the close connection between the central and enteric nervous systems). We are still not able to rationally dissect out our reasons, the causes and effects, but we know what we are dealing with. We either like it or we don't.  Yes, it makes us prejudiced and makes rationality more difficult but it certainly helps in a world filled with dangers. 

And while this realization makes me more confident of my instinct and my choices, it also makes me scared. Scared of being prejudiced and judgmental. Scared of being a victim of my strength. 

I guess, one needs to be more confident of one's instincts but one also needs to watch out for all that the mind can conjure when not being led by reason and evidence. 

Phew... can nothing in life be a little simple and straight forward !! 

L'chaim !

A few years ago, there was once a time that I questioned every festival and every symbol, ritual or occasion. To me, they represented blind-obedience, social servitude, lack of resistance to pressure and weakness. 

To me, every day was just another day - be it a Birthday, a festival, an anniversary or the new year's day. Even though I loved the celebration, I rebelled at the thought of people celebrating just for the sake of tradition.

But with time and age, I am a little bit wiser now. I have come to accept and even like, festivals, special days and occasions. 

I take them now as moments and milestones to pause and wonder, to reflect and retrospect. To celebrate and to thank, to look at the past gone-by and to look forward to the future. I see them as opportunities that can symbolically take us down a new road and help us make a fresh beginning. The food definitely is a bonus !! ;-)

I now realize that life is more than just being in constant state of struggle. It is and should be a celebration (I know I sound like one of those fast mushrooming, self-help books... ;p). But the truth is that I honestly think I should remember that). I grew up learning to prize austerity, modesty, simplicity, suffering, criticism and excellence. Celebrations, satisfaction, appreciation were often seen with circumspection because they made us settle for "less than perfection". But with years, I have learnt that sometimes perfection is just an elusive ideal. It's good to aim for it but it's also important to appreciate what has been achieved.

And so as another year rolls by, I hope that there will be new adventures coming along and that there will be new milestones to be achieved. 

I know that new year's eve is just another day but it gives me an opportunity to just sit down and reflect and hope. Some periods of time are not the most memorable and sometimes even though you make all the right moves, things don't fall in place. So, I wish that for all those people who are near and dear to me, the coming year is better than all their previous ones as it brings them new hopes and new joys to cherish. I hope that it gives them time to pause, reflect and rejoice, because sometimes in our race against deadlines and to-do lists, we forget to live. And then ultimately, when we are forced to stop, we realize that we have completely missed all that we worked towards. 

And so, even though it might be just another day, I hope that as you change the calendars tomorrow, things also change for the better in your life. 

Happy new Year !! 

L'chaim !!! 

The age of innocence...

As we age, childhood seems simple to us. 


Not because there were no rules or no pressures, no tests or no fears then. Because, looking back, as a child, i have had enough things to worry about and to cry over - grades to exams, sickness and hospital visits, dust, smoke and the myriad allergies, parents and their rules, many questions and the few answers.... 


They seem small right now but they were pretty big concerns to me then. 


But despite all this to almost everyone, childhood was simple. Simple... because we were simple people. Our minds, thoughts and words were simple. Words meant just what they said. As did people. There were no double or hidden meanings. Lines were lines and there was nothing between them. Friends were friends and foes were foes. Things were either good or bad. Everyone could be a best friend ! :) We had favorite colors, fruits, foods, animals, flowers - pretty much anything and everything. 


And then we grow up and somehow things become more complicated. Tears are a sign of weakness. We hate to not be independent. Nothing is as clear as black and white. The shades of grey fill our world. People too are not just good or bad. We learn to read between the lines and to find other meanings. Nothing is an absolute : favorite, best-friend or biggest-foe; the world is fuzzy and we are confused. But despite all this confusion, we have to pretend to see clarity, to see meaning. Our minds in fact are so convoluted with thinking and rethinking, with dissecting and tearing apart every thought; that eventually, we loose our innocence and our simplicity. 


The following is the text from a forward i received a few days ago. A simple forward that I thoroughly enjoyed and duly forwarded. 


While I laughed at the simple thoughts expressed by the children here, i realized that as adults, we are so far removed from that innocence, that we actually find it amusing. Our convoluted minds, trained by years of social training, actually find simplicity amusing and laughable. It's sad but its also true and perhaps even necessary !


But the innocence is truly endearing. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did. 


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While taking a routine vandalism report at an elementary school, I was interrupted by a little girl about 6 years old. Looking up and down at my uniform, she asked, 'Are you a cop? Yes,' I answered and continued writing the report. My mother said if I ever needed help I should ask the police. Is that right?' 'Yes, that's right,' I told her. 'Well, then,' she said as she extended her foot toward me, 'would you please tie my shoe?' 


While working for an organization that delivers lunches to elderly shut-ins, I used to take my 4-year-old daughter on my afternoon rounds. She was unfailingly intrigued by the various appliances of old age, particularly the canes, walkers and wheelchairs. One day I found her staring at a pair of false teeth soaking in a glass. As I braced myself for the inevitable barrage of questions, she merely turned and whispered, 'The tooth fairy will never believe this!' 


A little girl was watching her parents dress for a party. When she saw her dad donning his tuxedo, she warned, 'Daddy, you shouldn't wear that suit. 'And why not, darling?' 'You know that it always gives you a headache the next morning.'

A woman was trying hard to get the ketchup out of the jar. During her struggle the phone rang so she asked her 4-year-old daughter to answer the phone.. 'Mommy can't come to the phone to talk to you right now She's hitting the bottle. 

On the first day of school, a first-grader handed his teacher a note from his mother. The note read, 'The opinions expressed by this child are not necessarily those of his parents ..' 

While walking along the sidewalk in front of his church, our minister heard the intoning of a prayer that nearly made his collar wilt. Apparently, his 5-year-old son and his playmates had found a dead robin. Feeling that proper burial should be performed, they had secured a small box and cotton batting, then dug a hole and made ready for the disposal of the deceased. The minister's son was chosen to say the appropriate prayers and with sonorous dignity intoned his version of what he thought his father always said: 'Glory be unto the Father, and unto the Son, and into the hole he goes. 

A little girl had just finished her first week of school. 'I'm just wasting my time,' she said to her mother. 'I can't read, I can't write, and they won't let me talk!' 

A little boy opened the big family Bible. He was fascinated as he fingered through the old pages. Suddenly, something fell out of the Bible. He picked up the object and looked at it. What he saw was an old leaf that had been pressed in between the pages. With astonishment in the young boy's voice, he answered, 'I think it's Adam's underwear!' 

Finding anchor...

Like many other journeys, this one too began with bookmarking an article as something to be read at a later date. I first  came across Andre Aciman's shadow cities on this blog post. And after what seems like a lifetime on my bookmarks list, I finally managed to read it a month or so back. And it was perfect resonance. It was beautiful and true. In someways, his words captured the thoughts that often skim the surface of my mind when the waters are troubled. 

Aciman said in shadow cities, "like all foreigners who settle here and who always have the sense that their time warp is not perfectly aligned to the city’s, and that they’ve docked, as it were, a few minutes ahead or a few minutes behind Earth time, any change reminds me of how imperfectly I’ve connected to it. It reminds me of the thing I fear most: that my feet are never quite solidly on the ground, but also that the soil under me is equally weak, that the graft didn’t take. In the disappearance of small things, I read the tokens of my own dislocation, of my own transiency. An exile reads change the way he reads time, memory, self, love, fear, beauty: in the key of loss". 

I could understand his words because a lot of me felt like that, a lot of the times. Somehow, the "new" at home was never as scary as even the "old" here is. Somehow the sense of being an outsider still lingered with me despite spending a year in this place. I still feel a little nervous when I'm doing something differently, even though I've familiarized myself with the place and the processes. Even though, I had a house that met my needs, I didn't feel like it was home. Something was missing. I still lived like an outsider, like a passenger who was going to get off soon. I lived like a nomad but out of fear of being uprooted again.

I have often balked at materialists and to those who paid attention to appearances. I have always thought that appearances are deceptive and that one should learn to look beyond them. But now after a year in this new place I have succumbed to the same "vanity" and have anchored myself in material possessions. And i have realized that sometimes appearances are all it takes to start with a new story.

I began my life in San Diego, with a strange sense of skepticism and wariness. I had limited my possessions and had built a life around few things. My house was cosy in its own way but it was also minimalistic - not how i usually live. Its empty walls and barely furnished floors also filled me with a sense of emptiness. I had let things drift in stasis only because i was wary of settling down. Strange as it may sound, I had spent a year here with the constant thought of being ready to pack up and leave. I was reluctant to accept this house as my home and this city as home for a few years. It was almost as if I was waiting for something to come along - something, someone, giving me some roots to anchor. But after a whole year, the wait seems pointless and i have finally decided to take the plunge anyways. I have always been someone who has trouble finding that middle ground between intimacy and aloofness. I give myself whole-heartedly to my people and it seems to be true with places too. Vacating that hostel room after three years, last year, left me in that nomadic state where I walked into a new country with nothing but three suitcases. And today after a whole year, I have finally been able to find some anchor in this new world. It's still nothing like home and I still want to go home in a few years but for now, this feels like another home away from home. I finally, ended up abandoning that sense of caution and anchored myself in some material possessions. I ended up buying some knick-knacks and some furniture. I ended up investing my time, energy, effort and money into making this house into home - a place where i want to come back to. A home where I could cherish old memories and form new. 

It finally feels like a part of me and I feel like a part of it. From living like a refugee, I finally decided to start growing some roots.

I finally feel at home - in a home I have invested myself in.

Musings from a road trip...

It's been a long, long time since I've posted anything here. Part of the reason is that I've been busy (yes, I've had things to do other than work and chores at home and that feels nice) and the rest of it is because I haven't had much to say. 

One of the good things that happened recently was a surprise three day trip during the Thanksgiving break. I say surprise not because i was abducted for it at the last minute but more because it was not something I was planning for. A couple of weeks before the break, I was invited to this three day Trip to Bryce Canyon, Zion National Park and to Death Valley by V and G. 

Now, I love travel but am often daunted by the prospect of all the planning and arrangements to be made by and for one person (that person being me definitely doesn't help...;)) !! Anyways, when this opportunity came up, I jumped on the offer even though I had a few reasons to say no. But at the end of it all I am extremely glad I didn't. 

It was a busy trip by all standards - to travel across three or four state borders in a span of three days is no mean feat. And it being the thanksgiving weekend didn't help as there were many travelers like us who wanted to visit places during the break. I could only sympathize with the guys behind the wheel for those seemingly endless hours of driving in difficult terrain and with short days and long nights. We spent more time in the car than outside perhaps... ;) It was not the kind of trip I would plan on taking again left to my own will but in hindsight (oh how I love that word) it was fun. 

And, now that I think about it, this trip was like a wine sampling tour. I tasted many different wines in small amounts. I could figure out what I liked and what I didn't. I certainly will have to come back for the places i really liked and to know these places like they deserve to be known; But despite everything, it was a wonderful primer to road trips and National Parks in the US and it was with some wonderful people.

Some Highlights to remember : 

It was my first road trip in the US.... and to me that's big in itself.

My first experience with Snow (I felt like a child when i first saw the white mounds of snow at Bryce) !! I still haven't seen a snow fall and I know it will be a lovely sight but I also know that I love the cold only from the comforts of a fireplace and a blanket for a few days. The tropical Indian in me can only live for so long without the sun... ;) I still do want to spend a white Christmas making snow men and throwing snow balls just for the fun of it... but now i am happy (really happy) that I didn't go to Boston or Canada. I love San Diego for its warm and boring weather now... ;) 

I loved going back to my geography lessons. There is so much that you learn as a child about the various rocks, ores, rock formations, the modes of erosion, the movement of tectonic plates, mining etc etc but all of that information is stowed away as meaningless facts in some remote corner of the brain till you see them in front of your eyes, doing what you were told they do. And in this trip I saw many glimpses of that information and that made me want to go back to my textbooks to read more. 

The canyons, hoodoos and natural bridges at Bryce were a sight to see. The fall colours at Zion warmed my heart despite the chill. The desolation and beauty of Death Valley transported me back to a time when men roamed on these barren lands in search of treasure, battling nature with sheer human will. Borax, calcite, chalcocite, cinnabar, galena, pyrolusite, magnetite, gold and silver - ores, I had read about and memorized were in front of me in all their beauty, coloring hills like an artist's brush. It stumped me to imagine that some of the rock sheets in Death Valley were from the beginnings of life itself. They were millions of years old and despite changing with the times, they held the secrets of the past locked in them. It amazed me that geologists could read rocks like books and could tell so much about the past and the future from the dust and rock that we trample underfoot. 

This trip, like a few other past trips, evoked a strange mix of emotions : of pride and humility at the same time. When I stood at the precipice of Bryce Canyon watching rocks being carved, shaped, chiseled, chipped, flaked, bruised and broken over millions of years; it made me feel small, almost inconsequential in the grand scheme of things (It is true but scarcely does one realize or acknowledge the fact as we live our lives ticking off our to-do lists and musing about our problems and solutions {imaginary and real}). 

During the sunset at Bryce, despite the whole day's fatigue and the stress of the travel, I felt like I could just sit there and stare at the rocks as they changed color with every passing minute as the rays of the sun struck them differently. I stood there in wonder in sub-zero conditions, watching the first rays of the sun nudging the valley up from its slumber. I stood there thinking of what the first men would have thought when they saw something so magnificent and out of this world (I later read that the local tribes considered the hoodoos to be their ancestors who had been transformed into rocks by the local coyotes...). For a "big hole in the ground", as some one called it, the Bryce canyon certainly evoked a mix of sentiments. And this when I went on the trip without minimum background information and saw very little of the whole. And yet, even as I felt awed by the sheer magnificence of nature, I felt proud in a strange way at the achievement of man. To carve tunnels through mountains, to reverse nature's doings, to make our own path where none existed (freeways and highways through the deserts, mountains and plateaus), to understand nature for what it was, to probe the depths of the earth for the secrets it held... mankind has certainly shown a lot of fortitude and aptitude. But even as you marvel at the achievements and potential of humanity, you wonder where that it taking us in the future.

On a more practical note, this was a trip that took us to some of the coldest and hottest places in the vicinity. While Bryce Valley was freezing with temperatures around -5 and -10 C. Death Valley was a furnace by comparison with daytime temperatures close to 35-40C. Some extreme adventure it was for me ! :)

The skies were a highlight through the trip. Never have I seen such open spaces such clear skies. The stars twinkling in the night sky were like sequins suspended in the fabric of time, beautiful and ever so mysterious. To spot the constellations and stars I had read about was totally fun...  :) 

I have always had a fascination for all that lies above us : the winds, the skies, the clouds and in this trip, I have spent many hours sitting and staring at the skies. It was beautiful to say the least. And that has bumped up the visit to a dark sky conservancy in my "wanderlust list" a little higher than where it was ! 

So much to see and do and so little time. 

With those brief glimpses of my trip, I am going to sign off with some pictures from the trip. I hope I have managed to capture the sense the awe and amazement that i felt through this little exploration... 

Finally, I can't thank V and G enough for the organizing and planning of the trip and of course for the invitation to join them... :)