Delhi word vomit

Location: Uncomfortable chair in the Delhi airport waiting area.
Condition: Wobbly handwriting due to weak hands, in turn due to lack of sleep.

Feels like I am in a time machine, more than usual at airports. Time is liquid here. Listening to "As Long as you love me" by the BackStreetBoys playing at an overpriced cafe nearby. Waiting for a reasonable amount of time before calling Lava again.

Should I Fedex, or should I not? There is currently more Hamlet in my life than usual, because of Jonathan Safran Froer's "Extremely loud and incredibly close".

Why do airhostesses wear so many hairpins? Do they leave a trail of them wherever they go, like a modern Gretel? Is their existenc shaped by their montly excursions to stock up on myriad pins?

Mental note to buy Chumbak-like souvenirs for folks. But first to make a list of such folks. Is it 6 am yet?

I'll fill the days with usefulness. The same resolution I make everytime I go home on vacation, which invariably crumbles into days of nothingness. This time, hopefully, it will be something-full days.

I will call her in 5 min. If she doesn't answer, what then? Some more walking and word vomit I suppose. Does her apartment have an elevator? I hope so.

The soundtrack to my airport walkabout has turned into Enrique Iglesias. I need to escape.

I heard recently about a theory that teenage angst + hormones are a myth and has no science to back it up. But it apparently has gotten so popular, that everyone beleives it, even teenagers themselves. I think that this is one myth that has come alive. The world would make much less sense if most myths rose up from the ashes created by science, came alive and flew.

This Friday

This is office on an atypical Friday morning. I came up with 6 band names for my imaginary band. Behold:

1. Hint of Sideboob
2. Hogs bananas
3. Sexy medieval knights
4. Undercover Origami
5. The imaginary plague
6. Rich Auntie

Given my current level of musical genius, I think these can count towards six impossible things before breakfast.

Go on, tell me which one I should pick. Also, all positions (lead guitarist to didgeridoo player) are open.

Dharini out.

Waiting.

Making a list to survive an apocalypse:

1. Water purifying tablet
2. Water skin
3. Knife(s)
4. Wheelbarrow or a reasonable fascimile
5. Matches, lighter, candles
6. Mechanical flashlight
7. First aid kit
8. Sturdy shoes
9. Carabiners, rope
10. Notebook and pen
11. One Trustworthy person


I bought a safari hat and some cholera killing, water purifying tablets from an Army Surplus store yesterday. Feeling very outdoorsy, like I can take on anything. Armed with malaria medication and tubes of DEET, the trip to the rainforest is somehing I cannot wait for!

Oh, and also this thing called the FIFA world cup, no big deal.

One thing I've come to realize, if I ever have to give into a life of domesticity, I want to steal the life of Rose and her alter-ego Vicki.

Thank you Pat Brady :)

A Glass Jasmine

I'm setting myself up for heartbreak by buying The Road by Cormac McCarthy.

Sensory overload at Musee Mecanique.

Spring flora and pretty much a constant camera setting.


Discovering that your friend is a salsa dancer at a noisy bar when it's time for the last call. Trying to convince high school friends to move to California and arguing (futilely?) with important people. All this contributes to a weekend that whizzed past, one for which I can't berate myself for not having a plan.

Sivappumaram

People who giggle, have a sense of impy humor about them are such a treat. They remind me to worry less, and laugh more.

Weeks are flying by too fast for me to appreciate them. So many snippets of time, so many experiences feel like they are slipping through my fingers before I capture them permanently. Scrapbooks, fb pictures, instagram, snippets of IM, this poorly used blog - all the memories are too scattered. I worry that I will lose them. Wish someone would make a flip book of the little things, of the important things, so that I can revive myself when I'm being all angsty and worrisome. My goldfish memory isn't of any use here.

Glorious summer is being planned. My Henry has sprouted some new leaves, has survived a whole month under my care. A weekly race on Duolingo happens where I am invariably left in the dust by a self-congratulating Iowan and a certain Fez.


On a sunny saturday not too long ago, we found some weed in a Geocache in GGP. Discussed different bird species, found out that lawn bowling exists and discovered a tiny door in a tree reminding me of Enid Blyton.

I now can say that I know a person who says YOLO unironically. Hope it's not contagious.

February makes me shiver

February is the month of the new. New job, new apartment and most importantly, new friends. Uprooting my life is scary and exciting. Now in a pit of despair, now on the threshold of unbounded happiness. Weirdly, leaving my old job has made me better friends with the people who are still wallowing there.

I'm getting better at keeping in touch with people. Some may call it a side effect of getting older, but I call it being awesome. Postcards, a phone call or even an email. Everyone loves getting mail. Few bother to send any, making the few I get all the more precious.

Right at this moment, I feel sickly-sweet happy. I blame the morning rain and the cup of tea I made myself.

P.S. Here's a silly rhyme for you:
Row row row your boat, gently down the stream
If you see a crocodile, don't forget to scream

A late thanksgiving

Snippets of conversation with people you will never see again. Recommending books to strangers while waiting for luggage at an airport. The infinitesimal connection you feel with someone when you realize that they also love to bury their noses in a book.

Recapping the past year, there were so many trips, so many new places. Museums at Washington DC, Afghani food in Maryland. Watching others gamble at Reno and driving around Lake Tahoe. Revisiting Universal Studios, zipping past Highway 1 breathing in the air from the sea, and getting burned on the beach. Yosemite in the last dregs of winter, Aspen in autumn. Started off the year in New York, drove ATVs over sand dunes, hiked to a bunch of places. Got a motorcycle license, but never managed to get one for my very own. So many plans made and forgotten about.

Discovered geocaching, flew an aircraft and threw up mid-air. Made multiple trips to San Francisco, had camping adventures and visited the lovely Khushboo in Milan. Drove her nuts dragging her forcibly from one place to the next, managed to get directions to a teensy hidden bookstore in Italian - the small victories.

Experimenting with my new camera as the year waned, participating in multiple secret santas and attending more birthday lunches and dinners than I can count and completing my Goodreads goal. I'm sure many significant events have been left out, but this is my way of giving thanks, counting my blessings and being sappy.