Many Thoughts And A Laugh

Still busy, VERY MUCH!!!

Things took a turn for the better... I remember beating myself up for being somewhere and in something I don't belong in... Finally God has smiled on me, my research has seen a new twist and I have never been so glad. I felt like life was breathed back into me. Finally seeing the light.

That being said, I have been thinking about giving up two things.

#1 Sex.
#2 Smoking.

Yes, I know, both shockers and both tested and failed...

Sex, well yes, we all enjoy it don't we. Especially after getting hooked on to Sex and The City I was more motivated to have sex. But then again, only when I was doing it did I realise, I have yet to grow past sex without emotions. I still have to be attached to a person emotionally to feel something in bed. If I don't sex becomes monotonous (even if effort was taken to 'sex'periment), labourious and even stressful... Smoking, owh well, I am that much closer, just that much. Just wish it wasn't so 'available'. Well, I agree, no excuses. No one should justify smoking. No one. I certainly don't plan to. This addiction has to stop (or so I keep telling myself).

As for turning into a celibate, well, come on!!! Everyone masturbates right? I ain't gonna be able to give that up until everything else in my life is at peace. It's just I am falling into that God-loving facade of myself yet again. HE never lets go of me. Awakenings after awakenings. Experiences in daily life are pointing me in HIS direction. I can't even enjoy sex knowing that lust tears you away from HIM. I feel HIM, like a long lost lover knocking on my door again saying 'I love you'... Even my love for dancing is all about HIM because Indian classical dance was born right out of the Vedas. I even feel HIM typing this out.

On a lighter note, I was back home for the weekends and boy the urge to write things down hadn't reared its head so much in a long time.

First of all a funny experience. The High Priestess and me got all dressed up for a wedding reception dinner of her friend's son. She wore a lovely saree which I gushed at when I saw it sitting pretty in her room. She even spurted on the new perfume Gdaran and I bought her as a Mothers' Day gift.

Soon we were on our way, tummies aching for a buffet spread, to find the supposed venue blanketed in darkness. She forgot to bring along the invitation and so had to call another friend of hers and ask for a clarification if we were or not, in fact, in the right place. Sure enough we were, because I do not recall a duplicate of the venue in a different location. So I called the High Priest for further clarification. Proved beyond doubt was the fact that we were in the absolute correct location. I pulled the final straw. Did we have the wrong date? The High Priestess crossed her fingers and hoped against all hope that she was right. But, alas, she was dumbfounded... We were there a week ahead. I hadn't laughed at her that much since the times Cookies and Cakes used to call her 'cute' (he still thinks she's adorable).

Another incident, a night earlier, we were at The High Priestess's brother's house to wish her nephew A Happy Birthday. Unfortunately enough, we walked in during a very bad time. My uncle was yelling away at his son because they were an hour late to go to temple and he had been waiting around for him like a fool. Things were further complicated when his wife questioned him, rather seriously, why he did so. In front of us. My grandmother (which you may remember from Granny Mayhem) couldn't keep her mouth shut and ended up doing what Cookies and Cakes calls 'fighting fire with fire' and what I call 'pouring petrol on fire'. And very obviously her daughter-in-law did not overlook that and very conveniently brought it up when questioning her husband (look up any Indian serial dramas which forever host the ever-unquenchable tales of the mother-in-law vs daughter-in-law arguments, disagreements, melodrama and oh so despicable but yet so true, living with the in-laws complications; like such, it was no exception in this particular household).

Later, (post the embarrassing slip-of-mind incident with the wedding reception date), the High Prietess and I took a drive to fetch Gdaran from work (an unusual scenario because Gdaran usually drives to work in his car which, unfortunately, is sitting in a workshop as I type; repercussions of another one of those alcohol sloshing sessions; thank God this time we didn't have to frequent the hospital). While waiting for Gdaran, mom and I talked. About the drama in her brother's place, about Gdaran and his ex, about Aunt #4, about health, about God, about the right choices in life, about me and my future family (which I promptly cut off and conveniently blamed it on my studies), about The High Priest. Then  I realised something. My mom is a changed person. She is no more pushing me over the edge, she has become accepting and she is matured now more than ever. I guess all that spirituality has brought about a positive change in her. And another fact that breaks my heart is that she is lonely and I have been, through many years (in the past decade), the one confidante she has come to regard as a just, non-judgmental, ever-understanding and ever-ready to point out her sometimes erroneous actions person. At that point I told myself, I love my parents, I will be there for them till their passing. I just wish I make enough money to allow them a comfortable passing into old age and spend them the money they might need to go on that long awaited trip to the Holy Lands ('might' because my dad's retirement sum can easily rake up a comfortable life for them without either Gdaran's or my assistance). Their only worry, which in turn would be my would be my concern, is me being alone for the rest of my life. But I am sure, when that one fine day comes during which they get acquainted with God, they'll know that I was never destined to walk down that path and understand exactly why...

HaHaHa!!!

With one foot after the other he carefully paced himself.
Twice to the left and once to the right, he swung his head in opposite directions.
Any sign of fleeting concentration and he would turn back.
Distraught, he would give in.
Tired, he would bow down.

With underarms shaved closely and nicely cleaned, he was determined to tie the silver ornament around his waist lower than intended, for when he lifted his arm it wouldn't fluster the eyes that see them and that silver ornament would actually complement.
The very least he could do?
The very best he could do?
Either way, he was there.

"That has to be a little higher up," like an avalanche his surreal world came crashing down and with no trace disappeared into oblivion.
"Umph, sure, how much more?" he looked around; no less than 12 others; sitting, standing, brushing, tying. The temperature hit him.
"At least some thing would hold up," no, he wasn't saying it.
"So why exactly are we wearing the red instead of the blue?" he knew it was a distraction; to take him off the edge. It wasn't only the floors that were giving him cold feet.
"I don't know, it's his idea. I hate the colour too," the shirtless chap pointed away, just his right arm, for one brief moment and continued fiddling.
"OK, we're up!!!" the 'pointed' yelled out and walked towards the 'pointer'.
"Go!" the 'pointer' scurried off at that cue.
"You can do this ok, you're ready, just remember that out there it's all about having fun."

All about fun wasn't as fun. It was voluntary, this whole scenario, but it wasn't up to par. It wasn't as exciting or as scarcely pleasurable as advertised. Badur knew the problem.

'Expectation leads to disappointment.'

The phrase was all too clichéd for him. He often shrugged it off with cringing and 'faux' nausea. Then it struck him. The idea. Clichés happen, or they wouldn't be named so for they do, again and again.

'I miss you.'
'Listen to your heart.'
'Money can't buy happiness.'
'You dance like Britney Spears.'

They flashed like a tacky multimedia presentation, right where he could see them, intangibly.
The trinkets on his feet were starting to annoy him.
They never had done this before.

'Mangalam bhagavaane Vishnu... mangalam madhushudhanam... mangalam kundarikaaksham, mangalam garudawhaja...'

It was picking up pace now. He would finally make his grand entrance. How can he still not be ecstatic about this?

The 12 others lead way. He entered. And with a thunderous applause he saw faces looking up.
He noticed the light hitting on.
He heard the notes playing wild.
He felt his eyes staring down.
Heart rate skyrocketed.
Stomach plunged.

He grit his teeth and like before....

...with one foot after the other he carefully paced himself... 

......twice to the left and once to the right...... 

.........he swung his head in opposite directions.........

............and continued............

Now it started sinking in.
The music.
The pain in his thighs.
The numb sole of his feet.
His painted face.
The blue colour on his saree.
His bangles the 'pointer' fiddled around with.
His invaluable dancing bells.
His belt yanked high enough.
His clean underarm when he reached to pick up the illusory flower for that surreal garland.

What an idiot he had been!
He was finally an odissi dancer!
=
=
=
=

=

=

=

=

=

=

=

=

=

=

=

=

=

=

=

=

=

=

"GET UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's 5 pm. Time for makeup!" the face of the 'pointer' became faintly visible as Badur awoke from slumber.

PS: Bet you didn't see that coming didca'???

Dear, 'Whom It May Concern',

To those whom are reading this and know my identity, minus the people whom I have readily revealed myself to AND the people whose blogs I follow without disclosure of their identity or mine;

Dear 'Whom It May Concern',

If you are a friend or a family member or someone reading this knowing my true identity, it is with greatest of  hope that I wish you respect my discretion. This blog is for me to vent out my frustration and an outlet to deal with the elevated stress levels my life has presented me over the past year. I hope you are not one to judge and I certainly hope albeit my suspicions are to be true, the truth, either way, should remain ambiguous. I do not want to know who you are. I just want the amount of privacy being anonymous (to a certain level, the very least) presents me.

PS: This is a result of mere suspicion. Nothing dramatic has happened to spur this post.

*deep breath in, deep breath out*

I am busy... 

SO busy that I am starting my days early in the morning, like at 8 am!!! 

The last time I got up that early was in first year!!! 

Undergraduate!!! 

My MSc work is pushing my limits!!!

I don't have time to take a breath let alone a social life.

I am so afraid of losing my friends because I haven't met up with so many of them in the longest time...

The only thing keeping me going is Saturdays...

My dance classes...

The one thing I look forward to every other week...

Even typing this was monumental!

Did it with literally one eye shut...

No, it is not an understatement!

But I had to...

I need to vent frustration!!!

Waiting for MSc to finish!

Dear God help me!!!!!!!!!!!!!