What has changed?

You know, everyone changes. Everyone grows up. Everyone matures. It is inevitable. High school is good for some people. Bad for a lot more. I am proud to say that I had an amazing childhood. I would not change a thing. I remember being a brash, arrogant, and selfish kid with a devil may care attitude. I acted as a child was expected to act - I was very outspoken without a hint of coyness. I had no qualms about going up on stage and making a fool of myself (back then I had a very high opinion of myself, so consequently I thought that making a fool of myself was an impossibility).

Then I went to university. I held onto my attitude and lived just the way I grew up. It worked perfectly. I did modify my attitude a little though and became a more likeable person as a result. I was still a very confident, young kid.

Then I moved to the US. A part of me died. That confident, outspoken part. I still can hold my own in any conversation, but I just choose not to. When previously I would initiate discussions, arguments, talks, now I just sit and like to observe. Previously, I would speak my mind; now I carefully calculate my words and only if need be, speak up. Previously, my hand shot up in class like Hermione's; now I think unless my question/answer could save a life (or less dramatically, be relevant to the discussion and not considered a waste of precious time by my peers and professors) I don't need to bother. Maybe this is what is called growing up. If so, then I really don't want to.

I was a cat in another life

"Nostalgia. It's delicate, but potent… In Greek, nostalgia literally means the pain from an old wound. It's a twinge in your heart far more powerful than memory alone."
— Don Draper, Mad Men, 1.13 (The Wheel)

Its amazing how memories can be relived with fond remembrance. This particular journey down memory lane was orchestrated by one of my best friends, and maintainer of my sanity, if ever there was any. 

I vividly remember one particular evening, after finishing the day's homework and having a glass of milk, I ventured outside to hang with S. It was a hot May evening, and we were not in a mood to play (and run and sweat). We retired to one of 'our' spots - above a plastic water tank. Now, try to imagine this - two girls, about 13 years old, wearing shorts, sitting on a water tank, with their feet dangling down without a care about the world moving on below them (the tank was at a height).  I recall the discussion (or rather argument) being about our impending trip to India. One of us was leaving a day before the other and we were on the tank counting down days till the glorious Indian Summer embraced us.  That's all. We must have sat and talked till one of our parent's called out for us to get back home for dinner.

How I would long to be that scrawny, dark kid, sitting atop a tanki and living life. Why have I forgotten to live life?

Of the talkative kind

Its been a really really long time since I have had a conversation with someone. A meaningful conversation. Not just small talk. But good, really good conversation. Stimulating.

I have just realized it is so important to be able to communicate effectively. Not talk, but communicate. And that includes listening.

There are very few people I know with whom I can carry on a conversation. Probably 2 or 3.
Makes you wonder, life is nothing but a long, really long conversation with yourself. Others just jump in and out of it. Amazingly, if you do try to talk to yourself, it is extremely gratifying. It may seem strange, self-absorbed, inane, or just stupid. but nevertheless, doing it, introspecting, and just generally keeping in touch with "I" really helps. But thats just me. 

At least I know I can never be truly bored.

Of Nonsensical Adventures

For those of you who bother about my geographical whereabouts, I am now firmly planted in perhaps the most politically powerful and charged city - D.C. What's with me and capital cities - I seem to find them as a bee to honey. This city actually does exude power - those bespoke suits and Ray-Bans and leather briefcases holding papers that change the world's destiny, it isn't as exciting and fast-paced as NYC, but it has its own politicized charm which I am beginning to savor.

The only thing that irks me here is the utter lack of creativity in naming streets - this is the case in most US cities I guess, and being an outsider it seems to me that their forefathers couldn't be bothered to give creative (or atleast unique) names to streets. I am surprised they managed to come up with unique state names! 

I get that D.C. can have state names as street names, but why other cities? It really is a shame when you have to say that you live on Wisconsin Avenue in L.A.!

Before this post quickly turns into a full-fledged rant, I would like to mention that D.C. is super-cool. The clear lack of indians here (I come from Palo Alto - the indian techie haven) is surprisingly refreshing, the university population - young and vibrant, and in general, that eager, "I am here to make a difference in the future of this country by changing its policies" look on a lot of people (unlike the "I am here to make a lot of money" and later, "I make a lot of money" look on people from New York) is refreshing and strangely motivating. 

They say that by just being within sneezing distance to a politician, you could become one - all I have to say is - bless you. And I am buying a barge pole, just in case!

Of Blogs...

I love reading blogs. I mean really well written, thoughtful everyday blogs. Blogs which do not cater to any specific audience. Blogs written from the heart. Like a diary. Blogs written by people with simple lives which seem extraordinary to me. Blogs written with emotion. Blogs, which from reading you think you know the person writing it intimately. Blogs that make you want to live life. Blogs which give little glimpses of softness of the city they are written in, which let you experience their life so beautifully that you for a minute forget yours. Blogs written like a never-ending piece of poetry. Blogs written with little or no grammatical errors. Blogs that make you want to write about your daily life. Blogs written with no-one in mind. Blogs written for no-one.

Written while reading this: http://withoutmelissa.tumblr.com/

One lonely night

Its strange when you look at yourself not from the inside but as a third person. Not as what you want to be perceived as but as how others perceive you anyway. I have unconciously always wanted to be the center of a conversation. I guess early on I figured out that I cannot be the "speaker" in a group, so I settled for being the "speakee". i am the happiest when I am around people who are talking about me. It doesn't matter if they are making fun or even laughing at me as long as it has me in it. Well, this is how I wanted to be perceived.

The other day, actually night, I had this experience wherein I wasn't in me. Sounds stupid. It kinda is. I was looking at myself in suspension. Good opportunity to figure out who I am, right? Thats exactly what I did. I realized that I have matured a lot over the past year. I know, mature is a very generic term which could mean a multitude of things, the most obvious of it is that I have begun to understand the meaning of life, the universe and everything. Not exactly. I figured out the smaller, teeny tiny things are the ones which have matured me in a way. Like the fact that I know I like flowers, which in my childhood and adolesence I didn't, because I might be perceived as a girly girl, which I was trying to avoid, because I wanted to project an image of self awareness and confidence, which I thought could only be acheived by acting unlike other girls around me, who liked flowers! So, in essence, I did not never hate flowers, I just avoided what they represented for me. I have matured. But only just so.

I want to run after a passing train and try to catch it. I want to do it in a parallel universe. But in this particular one, where I currently am, I want to just sit on the platform and observe the train pass me by, without the slightest sense of urgency that I am feeling now. That would be perfect day for me. The perfect world. The perfect life.

Word Play

New favorite word - symphony

I do lean towards words starting with 's' which have softer syllables. But thats just me.

Words I dislike immensly - medley, cadet, chicago, any word beginning with 'rh'. Yuk!

Alone

My first day living entirely on my own. Hurray!!

Technically, the day ain't over yet but I feel compelled to declare it as a success. My mum left yesterday. I am amazed at the detailed arrangements she had made before leaving for making my life easier and convenient post departure. You know, these are the kind of things that makes a mom a mom. The funny thing is I will notice most of these things only after she has left. Lots will unravel in the coming days.

I kinda feel strangely independent. I've lived away from my parents since after school. But there was always an element of security. Or something like that. This is my first living totally on my own. I don't know why I insisted on mom not sending her mom over to take care of me (like I needed "taking care"??) I just want to get by 2 weeks on my own. Its a mind thing. After that I really don't mind my grand mom coming over or anybody for that matter.

Two weeks baby, two weeks of unadulterated fun...hmmm....uhmmmm...yea....i think so.... (doubtful crease over my forehead)

My magical larynx

My favorite word - serendipity

Love the sound of it. Can speak it over and over again. Trouble is, don't come across a lot of situations where I can use it convincingly. Actually, have been able to use it just once. Felt real good. Engaged dad in a doctored conversation (Took a total of 12 minutes), and when the moment came, used my best voice (yes, I have different sets of voices I use for different situations) and said it with slow deliberance. Oh, that felt good. Totally worth it.

Must suggest everyone to have favorite word. Makes sense.

Pay it forward!!

For those of you who have seen the movie by the same name, you'll know what it means. For the uninitiated, - its a practice where A helps B, B helps C, C helps D and so on. So instead of returning a favour, you "pay it forward".
I always thought of this idea as utopian and totally unworkable. Only coming into final year of arch has made me realize its significane and use. As juniors, we are asked to specifically help out our seniors in doing sheets, reports, dog work, etc. For the most, seniors harldy return the favor by doing our sheets and submissions. Its not because they consider themselves as 'superior' or something. Its simply because they have goine through the same routine themselves.
Final year thesis is the actual testing ground of this theory. Each senior 'recruits' a number of juniors to work for him/her exclusively. What does the junior get in return (besides the 'learning experience', bah!)?? The junior gets an assurance of sorts that when he/she reaches final year, he/she will get to do the same. A classic case of paying it forward. And not unwillingly.

Is it worth it?

Its been five long years of Architecture and endurement of my classmates, who I have been bound to (some willingly, others totally out of neccesity and helplessness!!). So thought its high time I actually write about this precious half a decade of my life. Yes, you are going to learn a lot more about my "life" and the meaning of the term in general.
I figured the reason my engineering counterparts don't really have an opinion on all their classmates is because they are simply too many to even count! We are a tiny class of 26 and believe it or not, no one gossips like we do. Wildfire spreads very easily when there are just 26 trees to be consumed!! This is not a comparision post(or an upmanship post, though we all know who will come out as the undisputed winner, don't we??). Our lives are practically inter-twined with each other - lots of sharing and caring going on!! Jokes apart, enigneering students spend close to 3 years with their fellow classmates as opposed to our 5 long, gruelling years. These years do take a toll on you. I think I've finally gotten to know my fellow classmates inside out. I'm not underlining the statement yet. And I find quirky madness everywhere. Which makes me wonder (yes, daydreaming again!) how many types of personalities are there in the world. Is it at all possible to classify them into neat moulds? Zodiac signs just tell you what you want to hear. I cannot believe they've stood the test of time for this long. Surely people by now would have seen through them?? Nope. Human nature baby. We want to be constantly told from outsiders, people we don't even know, about our "feelings", "character" and "future". Blah.
How much time does it take for you to know a person? Sure, first impressions form in a second, but do they always last? I remember forming my own sweet opinion about everyone I saw on my first day of college (funny, it seems like reminiscing!) Anyway, 9 out of 10 turned out to be the opposite of what I had thought them to be. Conclusion. Human nature is fickle, prejudiced, racist (believe me on this one!). But its not all that bad too. It can care and love and give hope. And it makes people gossip. That isn't bad at all!!! ;)

PS: On a different note, is it worth trying to know someone through or just manage superficially (I fall in the latter category)??