My Way

And now, the end is near;
And so I face the final curtain.
My friend, I’ll say it clear,
I’ll state my case, of which I’m certain

No, I’m not suicidal neither am I suffering from a terminal disease. It’s just a review of the year that quickly tiptoed, sometimes trudged, sometimes fox-trotted and sometimes limped by.

I’ve stated my case. Let’s move on.

I’ve lived a life that’s full.
I’ve traveled each and ev’ry highway;
And more, much more than this,
I did it my way.

Yes, 2008 has taught me so, so, so much. I moved from work to joblessness, from Bangalore to Mumbai, from Home to opportunity, from familiarity to familiarity again…

I have travelled in Mumbai more than I ever have in Bangalore. Western Railways, Central Railways, cabs, autos, (rather unwillingly) buses, cars, the Western Railways being my favourite mode of transport.

Everyday is a new story in the train. Amidst the pushing, pulling, stamping and yelling, I did find kindness, helpfulness, smiles, laughs, singing, gratitude, willingness and company.

With due credit to Mangu, I’ve frequented Marine Drive, visited Gateway of India, gotten a triples bike ride from Aksa Beach, waded through crazy crowds in Dadar, gone mall-hopping in Goregaon, gotten loan(s), and another and one more... It's a Bassanio-Antonio (Merchant of Venice) friendship we share, when it comes to money.

And of course, been forbidden to eat street-food or anything unhygienic that never fails to attract my attention and my taste buds. *shrug*

Also, a big thank you to her significant other who treated us to plate-licking-worthy food at NH1, Yoko’s and the likes; who sat with me without having dinner (nor lunch, earlier in the day), till I finished my Godforsaken online module; who helped, rather, completed the darn Corel Draw assignment…we can save this for another post.

God bless the two who are nothing less than a blessing in my life.

And I'm their problem child.

Regrets, I’ve had a few;
But then again, too few to mention.
I did what I had to do
And saw it through without exemption.

Impulse rules my living. And I give in without a whimper of protest.

After observation, note-making, deep analysis, in-depth study, extensive research, complicated experiments and none of the aforementioned nonsense, I have come to the conclusion that whenever I go by my impulse, I don’t regret it, not one bit.

The more thought, worry and the previously mentioned ‘aforementioned nonsense’ that I put into my life, the more time I waste, the more I am wasted.

The beginning of the year was a nightmare when I was a zombie, when I distanced everybody - the people who meant most - from myself, when I was somebody else because I certainly wasn’t Me.

I couldn’t make my own decisions, I had negligible opinion, little self-esteem and no remedy.

Mom was worried, the house was quiet and there was no noise which was prevalent all the time only because of one noise-maker – me. Friends were worried, I wouldn’t talk to them, leave alone share my goings-on with them. Then again, I had no clue what was going on. Colleagues wondered what could be wrong with the former ‘radio’, now mute girl. All attempts to help, talk, reach out and revive were met with silence.

I still cannot pin-point a particular reason. But I’m glad I went through that time in my life. Because I know that that time is a place I am never, ever going to, again.

Peshul mention to 77 and 78 for always, always standing by 79 that's me.

I planned each charted course;
Each careful step along the byway,
But more, much more than this,
I did it my way.

I almost want to laugh at this and shake my head in the negative.

My life has never been planned or time-tabled. Though when I count my blessings, I realise that I have always got what I have wanted. I mightn’t have ever expressed it but have always hoped for it, always imagined that it is meant for me or it is where I belong.

Sometimes, looking back, I get jittery about the what ifs. Then again what if not?

Advice – well that’s ubiquitous (!); I listen, I nod if I feel like it, I smile cuz well, I always feel like it but I make the final decision for myself – whether it is getting a nose ring or getting three haircuts in four months and someday perhaps, getting my head shaved (maybe in March-April, then we wouldn’t have to buy an Easter egg).

Yes, there were times, I’m sure you knew
When I bit off more than I could chew.
But through it all, when there was doubt,
I ate it up and spit it out.
I faced it all and I stood tall;
And did it my way.

Most true to my broke state of affairs - if you considered that a pun, let it remain one. Like I had written in this post, I repel money.

I’ve spent like a king and have lived like a pauper with good clothes.

Yes, I’ve faced it all and stood tall, owing to my I'm-scared-to-stand-on-the-weighing-machine weight and my decent height.

I’ve loved, I’ve laughed and cried.
I’ve had my fill; my share of losing.
And now, as tears subside,
I find it all so amusing.

Self-explanatory.

Here I must mention, the incursion on Mumbai/Bombay which was up and running within a day. If you’ve lost all hopes and need inspiration, come here. An instant emollient.

Also, the new friends I've made here. I never imagined my stay - yes stay - at Xavier's would be so full of friendship, sharing, warmth, fights, making-up and well, madness, canteen conversations and philosophies, confiding and above all, love.

To think I did all that;
And may I say - not in a shy way,
No, oh no not me,
I did it my way.

Shy? That’s a quality that I don’t know now, for better or for worse.

For what is a man, what has he got?
If not himself, then he has naught.
To say the things he truly feels;
And not the words of one who kneels.
The record shows I took the blows -
And did it my way….

I haven’t taken any blows, except in the trains; the other being blowing my nose almost perennially.

Life has been benevolent. So have most people in it. I’ve enjoyed myself to the fullest. Everyday has been a Sunday, sometimes with a mountain of holiday homework, sometimes a holiday that has left me exhausted – Seven Days to a Holiday (which by the way, is a song by Cliff Richard).

I have a job waiting and I can reject it if I choose to, I am independent in spirit; heavily dependent for finances. So well, consider the bit 'and I can reject it if I choose to' backspaced.

I'm happy.

At Home now in Bangalore, every single time I instinctively open my cupboard to take out my clothes only to find the sibling’s paraphernalia in my shelf and realise that my world is now in the travel bag in the corner.

I now have two homes, the only difference being I’m the owner of one and paying guest (minus the rent) at another. For both, I’ve had to pay the price, but neither has let me down.

And this, by far, has been the best Christmas ever. I've learned that giving only brings you more happiness, more blessings.

So there, my Annual Report - Year 2008.

The Music so far has been, to put it simply, beautiful.

OST: My Way, written by Paul Anka, sung by Frank Sinatra; also by Elvis Presley.

On the last Sunday of 2008, here’s wishing all of you a super-duper 2009 filled with love, joy and smiles. May you have Seven Days to a Holiday, a fun one at that.

Same to me.

For Someone who doesn't know this blog exists

• He is known, by many, as Christian Brahmin.

He doesn't eat non-veg. At all. An occasional egg, which I don't consider non-vegetarian, anyway.

• He graduated and started working at age 20.

• He taught his wife to make dal.

• His favourite meal is dal, rice, pickle, papad and a big bowl of curds afterwards. I love to be fed by him, his neat chubby fingers.

• He has cut down drastically on his consumption of curds as he was recently diagnosed with high cholesterol.

• He used to take the sibling for bus rides and fun places whenever he had the time. No wonder the brother has a flair for people and places.

• As a two year old, I’d go to him when he would have his morning coffee and ask for koshee. He’d willingly give very little to me, much to Mommy’s chagrin.

Now you know where my love for coffee came from.

• When we were in Delhi, he used to often bring home two big packets of puris, packets and packets of paani, channa and sprouts and meethi chutney. The other three of us would sit at the dining table, waiting for our turn as he would patiently make it, one by one and give us as we’d wallop ours and savour the paani puri with hands and faces messy and smiling.

• He used to sometimes bathe my brother and I when we had our Sunday 'head baths'. That was some fun, alright! The smell of the blue Clinic Plus shampoo is still fresh in my mind and in my nose.

• I was really, really scared of losing handkerchiefs as a child because I used to lose so many! One day, I came home from the creche petrified – minus the kerchief of course. He wasn’t home yet, so I cried and cried to Mommy telling her my tale of misery and telling her to tell him I’d lost it. It seems so silly now. I’m sure they both had a good laugh about it while I might’ve gone to bed, sobbing.

• He used to drop me to the bus stop every morning and waited with me till the bus arrived.

• Since his office was close to my school, in his lunch break he used to visit me in my bus when school just left. He always bought chocolates along.

• As children, all our shopping was taken care of by him. I don’t remember once going shopping for a dress when in Delhi. The peaches, the purples, the pinks, the reds, the blues – I had frocks in all those hues and more.

• With matching stockings.

• And matching bangles.

So now you know where my love for coffee and bangles came from.

• When we were too disobedient, he gave us this ‘punishment’: The perpetrator of the crime had to sit still on a small wooden chair that was made for us. I’d sit in the darkness in a corner for long while the sibling lost all patience and merrily ran about forgetting conveniently that he was supposed to be repenting.

• On his birthday, he buys new clothes for the rest of us.

• He taught me how to read with expression, okay inflection.

• He is laconic and very, very observant.

• He used to take the sibling and me to the barber to get our hair cut.

• On January 16th, 2005, while Mom was trying to dissuade me even after I stepped out of the house, Dad came along with me to Jeweller’s Street to fulfill my impulse - getting my nose pierced.

• I’m sure if I want to get a tattoo tomorrow, he’ll be the one who’ll come along.

• He loves plants and gardening.

• His sense of humour in the vernacular is simply amazing.

• He is riding/driving phobic.

• He loves sitting in the front seat while his son is in the driver’s seat.

• His foresight is excellent.

• His sense of directions is terrible.

• He can easily befriend waiters/shopkeepers/drivers and the likes….

• He is never seen walking barefoot at home.

• It’s because he is diabetic and if he hurts his foot, it’ll take forever to heal.

• He follows strict discipline when it comes to
- His morning walks
- Thursday visit to Infant Jesus Church and Sunday Mass
- Taking the shopping list that Mom has kept and buying everything on the list

• In case he forgets to bring something and sees Mom’s dejected face (cuz that was the only ingredient left to be added), he promptly goes back out and returns home only when he’s found the something.

• He loves reading Sudha, Taranga and Mayura magazines. He always bought Champak and Gokulam for both of us brats. Such fun.

• He brings 5-Star chocolates.

• Just for Mum.

• He rarely, very rarely eats what friends, neighbours and those like that have prepared and given us or sent over with much enthusiasm. He is more than happy to eat only what his wife has cooked.

• He loves to dress up for occasions.

• At home, he is seen with a banyan and a lungi (of different prints) with usually a hand-towel on his shoulder, that he calls HT.

• He is a cleanliness freak. Often seen wiping and re-wiping furniture, kitchen countertop, vessels…

• Occasionally threatens to leave the house and live peacefully by himself owing to the absolute untidiness of the other members of the family.

• One day Mom answered a call from one of his colleagues (who says he’s like her brother). She told Mom how much she has heard about her from him. Mom, of course, was pleasantly surprised and really happy. But it’s true; he talks with nothing but pride about his wife.

• When he was posted in Ananthpur for two years, he always bought us many many fruits. He was posted in Bijapur for five years before that.

• And called home, every single night.

• During my Board Exams, he took leave with Mom and while Mom tried to get me to study, he cooked lunch for me every afternoon before I left for the exams.

• Whenever Mom, he and I go to buy a saree for Mom, we always argue. Finally Mom agrees to his choice. Which is always the better one.

• His is my favourite, favourite signature - steady - just like him.

• If anybody hurts him or his loved ones with harsh words or actions, he springs like a protective lion. If he roars, God save you.

• I wish I had his big brown eyes.

• He decorates the house – alone - when we’re home for Christmas.

• He and Mum have always been fond of retro music and when we’re home, more often than not, there’s music playing.

Now you know where I got my love for coffee, bangles and music from.

• He was the most excited and proudest whenever I was on air or won prizes on radio.

• While Mom is worried about me finding a good Mangalorean boy – who she thinks are fast getting extinct – he insists that I work at least two years, am independent and then settle down.

• He loves long hair.

• So naturally, my butcher-my-hair spree leaves him horrified every single time.

• After the blasts, he told Mom (in Konkani) ‘I told her soooo many times not to go. What was the necessity to go all the way there? She could’ve done it here also no? I told her not to go....’

• Fact: He was really proud when I got admission here and never once told me not to go.

• He is not the romantic kinds at all.

• He takes leave on Mom’s birthday and arranges flowers all over the house.

• He told Mom that once he retires, he will make tea for her every evening. Awww.

• He readily bought me an mp3 player. Mom said it’s only because it was to do with music. And because I asked for it.

• He has been mentioned but never written about on this blog.

• He may never read this.

Dad, I miss you as much as I miss you. I'll be home soon.

And I promise this time around, I’ll help with the decorating.

RIP

The battery of my battered phone - which is actually a discarded one by my sibling for a phone a lot more hep, and of course a million times more presentable - died.

Attempts to salvage the situation - or give it new life - were met with responses of the phone blinking its neon green light.

Finally it thought it a better option to come back to life. And what did I see?

*Dad's name* *Mum's name*
*My name* *Sibling's name*
God Bless

The sibling's doing.

He never ceases to fascinate me.

Idiot.

Anticipation

Eyes smile and sparkle
They’re only a reflection
of decoration

Smile widens in glee
It waits for some company -
reciprocation

Heart warms in waiting
Waiting to sing many songs
Waiting for Christmas....