Zen and The Art of Motorcycle License Testing

Another week, another couple of hours wasted pondering the many existential crises that comes saddled with a Monday morning. I am yet to attain anything remotely close to Zen. Bikram yoga, when will I see the miracles that you famously promise on your website? Will it take more than the ten sessions that my groupon is valid for?

I got my Motorcycle skill test waived by attending two 5 hour sessions of coaching followed by tests. Stood in the sun for 5 hours, woke up early and skipped breakfasts. Should I buy a motorcycle or should I not? That is the question. Help me out here, imaginary readers of this blog. Is it a good buy or am I just throwing money out the window, to be caught by some sleazy dealer or greasy guy from craigslist?

The weekend was filled with the riches of Indian food that only the bay area can provide without ripping giant holes in one's pocket. And at an archaic parking ticket machine, a stranger was kind to me. As they say on the internet nowadays, Faith in Humanity restored.

Vagaries

In the sunset of dissolution, everything is illuminated by the aura of nostalgia, even the guillotine. - Milan Kundera

Even if you don't plan to read the entire book, at least read the first page of The Unbearable Lightness of Being. Then, ping me. To put such a universal concept into such powerful prose makes for arresting reading.

I'm off to Milan soon. Off to traipse through the canals of Venice and sit at cafes and imbibe copious quantities of limoncello. To spend hours on the train gossiping with Khushboo, to shop and to get more stamps in my passport. To forget about life for a while.

All this anticipation, for all of three days! A huge chunk of my day goes in living out my vacation before it even begins. I can already smell the post vacation blues.

As the fiscal year closes, here is some obligatory complaining about tax forms and all it's associated fanfare. Moan, whine, moan. Why do we have to grow up so fast. Time runs merrily along assuming that we can keep up, while people like me, hardly athletic, stumble and clutch at our asthmatic inhalers of youth, hoping to catch up.

Happy new year 2013

The new year began with a semi thrilling flight scare. Midway to Chicago, at about thirty thousand feet in the air, the pilot announces that some mechanical warnings were popping up on the dashboard that he couldn't fathom and that we will have to land at the closest airport. For the next fifteen minutes, I tried not to think about why I didn't pay attention to the safety briefing, why I was reading my book when the flight attendant was announcing the different ways to inflate the life vest. After some mild heart palpitations, I decided to continue reading as it was the one way I could keep from constructing horrifying scenarios involving balls of fire in the sky.

When I finally reached home after an overnight delay and mediocre sandwiches for breakfast, I went around my building so that I can check on my precious car, whose fate I was afraid for since roommate put the thoughts of car thefts in my head before I left for my trip.

No car thieves or vandals had happened by. Just a bunch of migratory birds who had decided to land on my car for what seemed to be a communal poop ritual.

Though the trip didn't end very well, it was in fact quite pleasant. Met some old friends, watched Les Miserables and bemoaned my inability to sing that well, and tried out archery. Went with sore arms to roam about freezing New York, and delighted in the maddening crowds at Times Square again.

Storm clouds, where be you all?

Accidentally cleaning a build that takes forever. Store employees being particular about the distinction between retail and outlet. Crappy lunch. Websites that crash when you need them most and assertions that refuse to be ignored. I'm hating this sunny day. I wish the bloody weather agreed with me. 

Food dreams

I'm hungry again. So hungry that I'm weighing christmas menu choices. I have come up with these options to guarantee a food baby:

Ideally, I would have a breakfast of chilaquiles with fresh tomatillo salsa, crispy taco chips and a dab of sour cream. Lunch would be a relatively laid back affair with some form of pasta rounded out by a bowl of heavenly brownie-icecream. Around evening-ish, when it's starting to darken outside, some hot chai and pakoras would sit well. And dinner would be a 4 course monster of a meal with gobi manchurian, cutlets, tomato soup, dal makhni and bhindi masala with some garlic naan.

Alternatively, it could begin with some hot idli-vada-pongal for breakfast with some filter coffee followed by a lunch of potstickers, scallion pancakes and fried rice. Evening could entail a fancy cupcake or two and dinner could be lentil soup, a steaming falafel dish with fragrant rice and baklava.

Other options to throw into the mix are some cheesecake, a pack of kurkure with aforementioned chai and mulagurasam.

P.S. Screw the baklava. It always sounds way more appetizing than it tastes and is waaay too sticky.

True Story

You spend your childhood being the tomboy, the errand runner, the mischeif maker. You are defiant, independent and breeze though life. You have standards and are picky.

And then life catches up with you. You get a job that you didn't want in the first place. You try to fit into the mold that you never thought you'd belong in. You get married and have kids.

Defiance gives way to contemplation. You struggle to make peace, but put up a brave front so that your parents don't feel guilty. You compromise. You lie to keep others happy, something you thought you'd never do.

You focus on getting through each day, and forget the dreams you once must have had. Go without. Try to be good. Get amazing at cooking. Get constantly berated and take it all in. Be the only source of true love for your kids. And think, was it worth it?

Past me

I saw a question on the interwebs today. It asked whether past you would think present you is cool.

6 year old me would be in awe of the fact that I have the ability to bestow a box of assorted fancy chocolates on my cousins whenever I visit India.
12 year old me would be super excited that I have gone whale watching (Just like on the discovery channel!) and visited the Grand Canyon but would be slightly put off that I work a 9-5 ish job and not some mash up of marine biologist-explorer-travel show host.
Summer intern me would be jumping from sheer joy that I have the ability to go on long drives and own a god damn car.
3 years ago I remember marvelling at someone knitting a scarf. That actual clothes came out of a ball of yarn and patience was astonishing to me. I finished one last week, I think past me would be proud.

It sometimes helps to review your past perceptions. Because they change, like everything else. Don't let current you be the only one that calls the shots. There's a lot to be said for spontainiety, but there's something to be said for healthy self reflection too.