Take a bow, Mr. Carroll.

Some of my favourites from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass...this is for an author and poet I have grown up loving. For train journeys, winter vacations and after-school afternoons that he lit up with his warmth, wit and humour. You're one of my favourites, Mr. Carroll. Thank you for happening to that six-year-old throwing tantrums when the train was delayed. :)

"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked.

Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."

How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice.

You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here." 

...

"I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person then. " 

...

"Alice laughed. 'There's no use trying,' she said. 'One can't believe impossible things.'

I daresay you haven't had much practice,' said the Queen. 'When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast. There goes the shawl again!" 

...

"If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?"

...

"I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again." 

...

"Why it's simply impassible!
Alice: Why, don't you mean impossible?
Door: No, I do mean impassible. (chuckles) Nothing's impossible!" 

...

"If you drink much from a bottle marked 'poison' it is certain to disagree with you sooner or later." 

...

"Just look down the road and tell me if you can see either of them."
I see nobody on the road." said Alice.
I only wish I had such eyes,"the King remarked in a fretful tone. "To be able to see Nobody! And at such a distance too!" 

...

"And how do you know that you're mad? "To begin with," said the Cat, "a dog's not mad. You grant that?" I suppose so, said Alice. "Well then," the Cat went on, "you see a dog growls when it's angry, and wags it's tale when it's pleased. Now I growl when I'm pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad." 

...

Afterthought

But oh, how it feels so real
Lying here, with no one near, only you
And you can hear me
When I say softly, slowly,
Hold me closer, tiny dancer...

'I'll tell you something that makes a lot of sense', she sighed meditatively. 'It seems like the end of the world, but it isn't.'

I waited for more.

She looked at me, a little surprised that I hadn't recognised the wisdom in her words yet.

'So...?' I prompted.

'So it isn't the end of the world, and will not feel that way', she said, a little impatiently.

'That's the problem. It feels that way right now.'

'So don't let it'. She'd gone right back to complacent wisdom.

Jesus freaks out in the streets
Handing tickets out for God
Turning back, she just laughs
The boulevard is not that bad.

I glanced at her, stirring sugar into into her coffee. We had lost touch after I left the firm; had discovered, thanks to Facebook, that we were both in town for Christmas, and had made a spur-of-the-moment plan to meet up. I wondered if she had ever had the slightest idea. It didn't matter anymore whether she had, but it was definitely ironic that she should be telling me not to let it feel like the end of the world now.

'I don't think it will, much longer'. I focused on a speck on the table.

'It's difficult', she acknowledged, frowning thoughtfully. 'I took it hard too, when it happened to me a couple of years ago. You remember that time when I used to be really irritable at work, and once took that long, three-week break for no apparent reason? May, I think. Or June. But it's okay. You get over it. All it takes is some time.'

'There was none here, Jen', I pointed out. I didn't want to mention that I had very vague recollections of the time she was referring to. It was around then that I had resigned, and I had had issues of my own to deal with. But telling her that wouldn't have been very polite.

'That shouldn't affect your decision'. She straightened. 'You need to think clearly'.

More and more ironic, I thought.

Hold me closer, tiny dancer
Count the headlights on the highway
Lay me down in sheets of linen
You've had a busy day today

'Let me know how it works out', she said, as we were paying the bill. 'And do learn to show up on time. We were going to meet at five, not five-fifteen.' She smiled. 'I'm glad you admit to the feeling, at least, Ray. I didn't think I'd live to see the day that you felt this way about someone!'

It seemed about time.

'Jen', I looked her straight in the eye. 'This is not the first time I've fallen for someone. I felt this way about you back then, you know. When we worked together. I just never told you. And...' I faltered, suddenly uncertain. It didn't appear as harmless an idea as it had four seconds ago, this choosing to tell her about feelings that I had put away for good. She was staring at me, still with shock. 'And...' I went on, putting all my courage into my words, 'it did seem like there was someone you were constantly thinking about, so it didn't feel like the right thing to do. It's all in the past, of course. Anyway...so I think I'll leave now. See you later?'

'Ray'.

'Yes?" I turned. She hadn't moved an inch.

'Think clearer this time." Her voice was hard and her eyes were unusually bright.

I sat in my car, listless and a little troubled. Maybe I should get more coffee to go, I thought, absently fingering the receipt from our coffee. Jen never collected receipts. It was a habit everyone at work used to kid her about, I remembered.

The order for a latte and a double espresso had been placed at 4:53 pm.

Flyleaf

One breath, one blink, one tick of the clock - and we move into a new year. The last just melted into posterity, and this one's young and full of beans.

To me, the arrival of a new year is always magical. Who knows what it's got up its sleeve? True, if we get down to brass tacks, it's just a digit changing on the calendar. But a life lived amongst the brass tacks wouldn't be half as much fun, now, would it?

'night, World. The other half of you is probably ringing 2011 in about now. When we meet next, we'll all have begun the new year. So long!

...and, curtains!

I do remember dancing into the new millennium and this decade. And I'll remember baking and reading my way out of it - the decade, that is. The millennium, I want to waltz my way out of :)

Fifty-three minutes to a brand new year, and a brand new decade.

I'll miss you, 2010. You were one interesting, happy year.

And you, 2011, waiting in the wings... Come on in!

I'll see you on the other side of midnight, World! Have a wonderful year ahead...and a decade to match!

:)

The Mistake

Lesson 1: The next time someone has a story they want to tell you, run for your life.

Lesson 2: Never, never, never share your favourite spot in the world with anyone in the hope that it will make them feel better. It doesn't. It just ruins the spot for you till you can get over being mad at yourself for having been stupid enough to share it in the first place.

Lesson 3: Never be found in your hostel at lunch if you bunked classes that day.

Lesson 4: It's not that bad. Don't bother.

Lesson 5: Cross the road, and go home. Don't hang out or take a walk. Doesn't help the tiniest bit.

Lesson 6: Stop gaping. It doesn't even involve you. Utter waste of time.

Lesson 7: Some kinds of ice are best left unbroken.

Lesson 8: When you've learnt enough to be able to list Lessons 1 through 7, cut your losses and move on.

Note to reader: There's not much to be read into this.
Note to self: Learn, learn, learn!

Fifth Corner - I

I guess it has something to do with this time of the year. Willy-nilly, I turn back and take stock. It's a feeling I'm now familiar with...the warmth of my palms ensconced safely in the pockets of my sweatshirt, the chill playing with my breath each time I exhale, my mind a whirl of thoughts. I've found myself doing this curled up on windowsills on Main Corr, on the terrace as I gaze out over a sleeping city, on long walks to Gwyer Hall and back, and on sleepless nights here in Bhubaneswar, watching winter raindrops trickling off palm fronds just outside my window. That palm frond was just sprouting when I got here...now, it's close enough to touch.

I shake hands goodnight with it. :)

It's been a year I will never forget. I've done things I've always wanted to, and some things I never thought I would. I've had wishes granted. The impossible practically happened. Enough said.

Somewhere, though, there's a slight tinge of disillusionment and a little sadness.

Don't get me wrong - heaven forbid that I should feel or even sound like an ingrate. I'm thinking aloud...let's see if we can sort this out.

(So is this where I should insert the Rambling Alert? Methinks it is.)

It began wonderfully enough - my first New Year's Eve home in five years. It was a very happy girl who made her way back to Delhi for her fourth semester. February was important - I re-discovered an old love, thanks to a new friend. I had the most amazing evening of my life on March 15. I didn't know this then...but March was also the month of another beginning. More about that later.

Let's see...April was laid back. Quiet and lazy and fun. I do remember presenting my dissertation one afternoon. I've never been as poorly prepared for anything, ever...and I've never had so much fun. May...ah, now we're talking. :)

May was crazy. There were exams I was unprepared for out of sheer disinclination, and there was a growing realization that if what I had with Delhi couldn't be classified as a with-or-without-you relationship, nothing could. May 15, again, was one of those days. I went from ecstatic to flabbergasted to plain low in 30 seconds flat. Even for someone as mercurial as I am, that's a quick transition. And that's all the more reason May 16 was such a surprise. May 17 was...difficult. Packing six years into sixteen bags and boxes is not easy...and I'm not talking logistics here. The next day, I left Delhi.

I'll never forget the night leading up to my departure, or the last hour at the airport. Other memories will come and go, this one's going to stay. Till the plane actually took off the runway, I was practically numb. I didn't realise I was crying till much later. Then I felt embarrassed, then stupid...and then I stopped caring about everything but the fact that I was leaving behind something I loved, and cried harder.

And that's why the week that followed was so difficult. It was my last four days with my family before I entered a set-up that measures personal time and space in privilege leaves. There were a million things to be done, scores of things to run around for. Mornings and evenings came and went, marking time with merciless regularity. The one thing that was constant, whether I was at the doctor's or the bank or the temple, was this thought sitting in a corner of my mind. "When you leave now", it kept repeating, "you are not going back to Delhi. Not now, not any time soon. There's no Delhi to go back to, the way you've known going back to it. What you've left behind is over."

I'm no good at handling endings, so that hurt.

The last week was full of new experiences. Outside BKC on the 23rd, I began a new chapter. Of more than one story, though I didn't know about the other.

May ended with three clueless ER Managers landing in Calcutta, dining on Maggi and saying goodnight in the hall before proceeding to Rooms 1 and 3 (I got one all to myself. The guys shared the other. Oh, the privileges of being a woman :)

June. Hmm...June.

Here are my discoveries for June:

1.Recruitment can be as boring in practice as it is in theory. The thrill wears off in no time, especially when logistics demand attention.

2. A good team is half the job done.

3. Laugh a lot. Be goofy. Play silly games. It's good for you. :)

4. Delhi is a lover and a friend. Calcutta is your friendly old neighbour next door.

5. And Calcutta is beautiful at midnight.

6. Long work hours are more irritating in reality than they are horrifying in concept.

7. Homesickness sometimes gets accentuated in a hotel room.

8. You can do - or not do - what you like. If it's meant to happen, it pretty much will.

9. Airtel has lousy customer care for its prepaid services.

10. Six weeks is a long time to spend with a bag packed only with a five-day trip in mind.

11. Following from #10, being in a new place every third day is a lot more fun when you don't have to worry about laundry.

12. Let. Go. It's important.

July was another revelation. Bhubaneswar and I happened to each other. We're still trying to figure our way around each other, this city and I. The end of the month was especially tough, on several fronts...which is why the trip to Khandala, which happened in the beginning of August, was a much-needed and very soothing break. Hills, mist, rain, lakes, highway, moonlit nights, golden afternoons. Perfection, in other words.

August, September, October, November...the months just melted away. Little bits and pieces of life held together by a fibre I couldn't identify. I learned something about myself these last four months. I learned that I am capable of feeling lonely, that I have walls I need to reconsider, and that I may have to rethink thoughts I've already rethought. I learned that I am allowed my mistakes. I learned to be comfortable with acknowledging that sometimes, things weren't all okay, and that it was alright for them to not be okay once in a while. I learned to face facts and deal with them. And above all, I learned that being honest with yourself and telling yourself the truth are sometimes two different things - and both are equally important.

Well, then...it's been a year I'll never forget. I'll remember it because it fulfilled a  long-cherished wish and because it taught me something I'd never have learned, left to myself. I'd always wished for a job I could travel madly as part of. That happened alright. The lesson? I'll tell you later. :)

Disillusionment, yes. I guess that's part of the deal. It happens to me sometimes as part of my job...and it happens on the personal front too. But, you know what, in the larger scheme of things, it's okay. It really is. You know what they say about fixing the blues...count your blessings, they say. Thank your lucky stars.

Either that, or blog about the year gone by, say I. :)

p.s. Still got some stock-taking left. Later, maybe.

Actually, I'll definitely come back and finish this.

The Double Take

This post could have come later. No issues there. But it wouldn’t have been the same. And given what this is about, I think it’s only appropriate that it be written and published from where I currently am.

Berth 35, A2, Bhubaneswar Rajdhani.

There’s someone or something out there that’s sitting and taking notes each time you make a wish. That’s the only explanation I can think of for today, this moment and this feeling.

Life has come full circle today.

That I am inexorably in love with Delhi is probably in evidence all over this page. I used to take this train from Delhi to home. Back then, I loved it because it brought me home. It’s taking me home again today, but from Bhubaneswar this time. It could take me to Delhi too, if I wanted it to (and do I!). As someone who instinctively associates several disparate entities with one common thread in her thoughts and imagination, I am beyond thrilled this afternoon, taking one of my favourite trains back to one of my favourite places in the world. There are memories, there is anticipation, there are musings, there is beauty, there is gratitude, and there is belief.

It’s not for no reason that I am a believer, you know. :)

But this post is not just about that. I am sitting by a double window. It’s a golden afternoon, and I’m on board a train speeding through the Orissa countryside. My world has never been so beautiful. This, from someone who is sure she has more than her fair share of blessings to count.

I’d been wishing for a bit of travel for some time now. It’s an inherent need. And not just the regular sort…I wanted to see more of the world I currently live in. That’s why I wouldn’t call the mandate for 10 branch visits a mandate. I’d call it a windfall. Or an answer.:)

So in the last week, I have been to Cuttack, Khurda, Nayagarh, Paradip, Jagatsinghpur, Raipur and Mahasamund. I’ve spent an average of 6 hours on the highway each working day, and spent two of the last four nights on a train. I’ve been in a different district every 4 hours since Monday.

I’ve fallen in love.

I realised that I never gave Orissa – or Chattisgarh, for that matter – a chance. By and large, my job description is not something I’d save for the day the genie pops out of the bottle. It’s not that it isn’t good – it’s just that my job and I are two people trying very hard to work things out between ourselves and finding ourselves not getting anywhere with the effort. But there are things about it that I love, and things about me that it likes back, hopefully. And I love the fact that travel and movement are such an intrinsic part of this profile.

Coming back to never having given my zone (Orissa and Chattisgarh, which I look after for my organization) a fair chance, no, I hadn’t. I allowed my perception of the place to be coloured by my perception of my job – and that was grossly unfair. I’ve seen Orissa as a place that requires manpower at the least convenient places and moments; which probably has more transfer requests and job satisfaction issues, and less retail holidays, than the rest of the country put together; and which is dotted with locations and profiles that are difficult to pitch.

Given my belief that everything in life deserves at least one fair chance – and a second one, if it’s worth it – I cannot believe how I let this pass me by. I feel worse about it because I call myself a traveler…and what traveler lets a chance for discovery and exploration go by just because there is a pre-conceived notion somewhere in her head?

In the last four days – and now, as I travel through the coastal region – I have learnt that this is a beautiful place. I’ve delighted in being in places where the coast is visible in the distance, and there are hills on the other side of the road. I’ve seen coconut palms swaying in the breeze, and I’ve gazed at endless paddy fields, such a fluorescent shade of green that you wonder where on earth the Maker found that perfect hue. I’ve seen rows upon rows of hills, fading from a rocky brown to slate to purple to barely-there blue the farther they get. I’ve seen clear ponds and lakes, where the vegetation on the shore is mirrored perfectly, down to the last blade of grass. I’ve seen water lilies carpeting an entire canal. I’ve seen a little town cradled amidst a cluster of hills...and then I’ve seen a perfect little township sitting neatly by a port, stuck endearingly in a time warp. I’ve spotted random, multi-hued rock formations that I gave fanciful names and shapes to. I’ve seen wild flowers in bloom all along the highway from Khurda to Nayagarh. I’ve seen little temples and shrines by lakes and under banyan trees, every 300 metres. Untouched, quaint, earthy, flawless Orissa.

My apologies, Orissa. I should have given you a chance. And now that I have, you swept me off my feet.

And that’s why it was important to post this now. Here. There can’t be a more perfect setting or time for this. I’m discovering more of Orissa as I head home today.

I am so happy today, I find it hard to contain. Brimming over, bubbling over, spilling over. So happy, it hurts. Life is beautiful. :)

P.S. I nearly went off to Haridwar this morning. Or Belpahar. Neither is a bad idea, of course, but it would have been about a thousand miles or more off course from where I was originally headed. How that happened is a different story. Later. :)