My Nomadic Love

Ever heard a piece of music that took you to another place. Another time.
Ever looked into the eyes of a stranger who seemed more familiar than all the people you have ever known?
Ever had a eerie dream that seemed more real than most dreams have?
Ever wondered why we don't leave our past where it belongs?
Doesn't it fascinate you how it finds it's way into our lives through the conscious, the subconcious and every other medium it can find?

Ever asked yourself who you really are?
Where do you really belong?

I have.
I don't belong here.
I don't belong anywhere.
And yet I belong in every place the sun rises and the stars shine.

I want to grab a bag, pack it with the things I love the most and fly off to another land, with a stranger who harbours the same dreams as I do.
I want to be gypsy.
A nomadic gypsy.
For it is who I have been in another life.
Who I wish to be in this life.

I'll dance and sing along the way, and weave beautiful lines about my journey.
I'll meditate by the shore during the day, and talk to the angels and fairies at night.
May be I'll cast my own Wiccan circle.
I'll look at my coffee cup in the morning and have all the answers I seek.

I'll surround myself with myriad colours until a strange sort of peace descends upon me.
I'll learn about herbs, about plants and the fine art of healing the soul.
I'll train under a master, until I know all the secrets of the Universe.
May be I'll belly dance until my soles hurt and my heart starts to dance to a brand new rhythm.

Grab my hand.
I'll grab yours too.
I don't know if you're my soulmate.
Or just another stranger to me.
But this journey is way too beautiful for me to live it alone.
While I can't say that I belong to you, I promise to journey with you.
Till the very end.

The Summer and I, we have made our peace.

I kicked.
I punched.
I grumbled, wailed, threw a fit and then poked the Summer where it hurts the most.

However, now that we have made our peace, I'm collecting all the destructive forces, brewing inside of me, for the day I go meet my boss.
Work until graduation apparently.
Which means she wants me to work another year.
FOR FREE.
And I will do what any other self-respecting woman in my place would.
Refuse to work in a place where I am not valued enough to be bloody paid for conveyance.
Let's see if you find a cooler intern, niggah!
Because from what I can see, you're going down!

There is also a lot of constructive energy bubbling inside.
What's better than to dedicate this energy to learning all the creepy stuff that I love so much.
I'm learning a new pack of Tarot cards.
The Osho Zen pack and it is making me very, very happy.

Generally, I give readings over the phone, but yesterday a friend of mine, stuck in the middle of some serious relationship crisis came over for a reading.
I cannot tell you how I got totally carried away, went into this fortune teller mode, lectured her unto eternity about the state of her life and where she ought to take it from there.
It was very satisfying, you know.
Blabbering away as if I really had all the gyaan in the world.

And then I took some very important decisions.
Whilst, digging my closet for an old shrug, I fumbled upon this very pretty black and golden scarf I was gifted a long time ago.
It's got ancient egyptian symbols on it and a very pretty looking sun right in the centre.
If all else fails, I'm going to put that scarf around me, find myself a pair creepy looking cat-eye glasses and a hundred bangles and beads in every colour, until I look like one of those gypsy fortune tellers from a Hollywood movie.
Then I will buy an old wooden stool, find a lonely corner on the beautiful streets of Bombay, set up a stall called K-ay's Corner and become the pioneer of tarot readings on the street.
Only for those who are willing to pay me but.

So money problems will be solved.
Creepy urges will be satisfied.
The Summer and I, will be best friends again!
Happy ending :D



P.S. I'd be more than happy to give readings to all my faithful blog readers :D
If you're too broke to pay me by cash or cheque, you can sed me bars of Bournville in every flavour!
Peace!

Finding The Mystical Mermaid

'It's called Maya', she whispered.
I had known it all along.
I just chose not to believe it.

Ever held onto to something unreal, only because it made you happy?
I did.
But in that moment I let it rain.
I wanted to banish the misty clouds that blurred my vision, only to be able to think.
Think clearly once again.

There were no tears.
There wasn't a smile either.
I felt like the stoaic I never was.

I packed everything and I left.
What I seeked the most I could not find here.
I ran until I reached my haven in the middle of the ocean.
The waves raged on.
The bridge was flooded.
But the noise inside my head was louder than the noise around.
And I knew I had to make it there for my mind to find it's peace again.

I sat there.
Legs crossed, hand by my side, breathing deeply.
The noise started to fade until there was comlete silence.
I was finally at peace with myself.
The Zen mode she talked about had been achieved.

When I spoke to her for the first time, I was 16 and still trying to find my Faith.
But today as I meditated in peace, every word she told me finally made perfect sense.
'Spirituality can exist without Religion,
But Religion cannot exist without Spirituality.'

*pokes Summer 2010 where it hurts the most*

Dear Summer 2010,

At first I couldn't wait for you to get here.
College drama was overwhelming.
I was in dire need of a sabbatical.
To cut myself from the all the people who meant nothing at all to me, but affected me anyway.
I wanted to drown myself in work so much so that the World I left behind was a distant memory.

Right now, I'm thinking about how I can't wait to get back to the normalcy of life.
May be that will be my sabbatical from this sabbatical gone wrong.
I need to wake up late.
Take an hour to get ready.
Shower 54 different colours on me.
Go sit on the second last bench against the wall.
Daydream with my eyes wide open.
Laugh like an ass at nothing at all.
Grumble about stale KC food.
Have showdowns over the lamest projects.
Bitch endless with A-a-sha.
Go shopping five times a week.
Make Firangi Paani plans that never materialise.
Aaaah!

And did I mention I need another sabbatical to cleanse my muddled up head of the boy drama thats happening.
Girl meets boy.
Boy disappears.
Girl meets boy.
Then he disappears.
Girl meets boys.
And then he dissapears AGAIN.
Girl meets boy.
She should knife poke him all over until he bleeds, scoop his eyes out, step on his hairy humungous feet and then pull all his hair out of his scalp.
But all she does is think about is how she wants to meet him again, lest he disappears.
I must stop living on a staple diet of movies like Love Aaj Kal and A Lot like Love.
NOW!


Until sample sales continue to make happy!

K-ay <3

Summer 2010

I think it's going to be a good Summer.
Random, inspirational, adventerous and very creative.

I started working full time at the office.
With college, I could only manage to come in after lunch.
I like the sort of discipline it brought with it.
Waking up early, sleeping before 12 am, eating on time and all that.
I wasn't sure what I was doing writing about celebs I hardly care about, but I enjoyed every bit of it.
I felt like I was living someone else's life.
One of those starstruck journalists who actually care if Ranbir and Katrina are going out or what Akshay Kumar is doing on his birthday.
Everytime I wrote a story, I thoroughly enjoyed spicing it up and sensationalising it, while laughing in my head at all those dimwits who actually wake up every morning to enthusiastically read what I have written.
I know this is not what I want to spend the rest of my life doing, so I'm going to make the most of it while it lasts.

There is just one miniscule problem.
I have too many things sitting on the top of my priority list.
And giving so much to a company that refuses to pay seems like such a let down.
So I tell her that this isn't working out for me and I'm going to work from home instead.
Which basically means I get to write for them, attend important events and  still find the time to do all the other stuff I've always wanted to.

Works for me!
I can finally hunt down those photographers who promised they'd let me be their stylist.
I plan to stand outside their doors singing until they get tired of terrible voice, agree to employ me AND pay me.
I've also become a bag-wali off late.
No I don't stand at the station and sell bags.
A store in bandra does it for me.
Now I want to get back to it and get the second lot made.
More belly dancing will happen.
Lucky women will get to learn to groove like me.

I'm also feeling very DIY.
I've moved into my new house and I want my new room to be *beautiful*.
So beautiful that magazines will want to feature it!
Okay. I'm pushing it now.
But I'm thinking of getting a wooden chair that I'll paint myself.
I want to get wall paintings, collages, photographs done.
I want the wall to look insane!
And I'm thinking of making some wall hangings as well.
Crazy suggestions are always welcome :)
Also if you're looking to employ someone AND pay them, you *must* leave a comment asap!

Shopping List - May'10

Every month deserves a new shopping list, no?
I'm already half way through May and I haven't managed to shop much.
The parents are worried.
This behavioral pattern has never been observed before.
So without further ado, I'm going do what I do best.
Make shopping lists for myself!

• Cat-eye glasses.
• Ethnic rings.
• Cane bag (which I want to paint myself)
• Colourful scarves.
• Hairbands.
• New pair of jeans.
• White kurta.
• Long black vest.
• Deep purple nail paint.
• Green patiala.
• And some very pretty ballerinas!

The adventures of my day!

It's been an adventurous day cupcakes!
Action packed would be more appropriate.
I make the guards chase me at work today.
I'm too cool to carry my ID card around.
So I walk in like I own the place and pretend like my ears have lost the ability to hear when they call out to me.
And when they do that right after I have made eye-contact with them, I give them my very famous 'nari morcha aandolan' looks.
It makes the coolest of men pee in their pants.
And today there were three of them.
Four if you count the fat on number #3 's body.
That's how many men it takes to scare this girl.

So they stood seena-taanke, by the gate, waiting to attack me.
'ID dikhao', one of them said.
I didn't bat an eyelash.
I kept walking straight.
Then two people at the reception asked me for my ID.
I blatantly ignored them and kept walking as fast as me feet would take me.
Then the two watchmen standing near the lift suddenly realise what is going on and start walking towards me.
I look left, I look right.
One of the five lifts open.
From the corner of my eyes I see all the watchmen running towards me so I make a dash for the lift that opens, laughing wildly as the lift door shuts on their bloody faces.

So I reach the fifth floor feeling very proud of myself.
You'd think the oldies would let this little kid live in peace, buthe makes it a point to call up the fifth floor watchman instead.
Then my life all of a sudden seemed very movie-ish.
The watchmen whispered on the phone, while surreptitiously looking at me.
I tried to pull the door open, but it wouldn't budge!
So much for escaping the law.

But am I the sort of woman who would resign to the likes of unhealthy, oversized men?
Men in general, actually.
No! no!
That is not what I have been brought into this world to do.
I patiently waited for a moment.
'Tumhara naam kya hai', he asked me.
'Ravneet', I replied. And no that isn't my name.
I was just trying to bluff him.
He didn't look convinced.
I didn't know what else to do.

But even Destiny was in favour of the strong woman who stood up for herself.
The door all the way across opened.
One of the employees was stepping out.
I ran. Ran with all my might, all the way till I reached my desk.
Only then did I breath a sigh of relief.
And this my friends, were the adventures of my day!

I remembered to forget the end.

The words unwritten

The words unsaid

The incomplete conversations

They come back in my head

And I find myself yearning

For the familiarity of that smoky smell

Craving for the touch

That can take me to heaven and to hell

And then the treacherous lies

Comes back to me

I see the end of the road

Through a hazy smokescreen

I fumble to collect the pieces

As they fall apart in front of me

May be I can’t remember the end

Because it wasn’t meant to be

Embarrassing incidents from my interesting life

My Jelly beans!
It's been a long time, hasn't it?
This time I'm back with the promise of nonsensical updates every other day, starting today.
I've been embarrassing myself a *lot* these days.
Then again, when do I not?
But no matter how much I embarrass myself, I don't really get embarrassed.
Get what I mean?
Oh well! I'm just going to get to my story.

So the day ends and I'm very, very impatient to get back home.
I come running out of the door and make a dash for the elevator.
This random person standing by the elevator, tries to control his laughter as I almost slip while doing so.
I refuse to smile at such smart asses and walk straight into the lift.
Suddenly, it feels as if the elevator is taking *way* too long to get to the ground floor.
It starts to get a little awkward, so I decided I should pull my cell phone out in order to look busy.
I dig my hands into my pocket in order to pull my phone out and kaboom!
I drop it on the way and my phone lies on the elevator floor in three pieces.

On the way to work the other day I decided to start being a little sensitive to things like skin tanning and skin cancer.
I'm too lazy to use sun block most of the time.
I wasn't even carrying one the day I decided to protect myself from the sun.
But I did have my my white rimmed, very retro looking sunglasses and my red polka dotted scarf.
So I put my sunglasses on and attempted to neatly wrap the scarf around myself such that my entire face is covered.
I failed miserably.
So I just put the scarf around my head and pulled it down to cover my face the way women covered their faces with their pallus in the olden times.
The funny thing was I wasn't wearing a saree.
I wasn't even wearing a kurta.
And I shamelessly walked around the streets with a red polka dotted face, providing a lot of amusement to the onlookers.
Well, didn't I tell you?
I hardly ever get embarrassed. =D

I eat a lot of junk, you know.
And I'm seriously trying to cut down on that.
I bought bananas on the way to work, so I could have them instead of inhaling my 468th cup of coffee.
And also because it makes me feel rather smug about having included a fruit in my daily diet.
So in the evening, whilst the tummy starts to growl, I pull the banana out of the bag and start peeling it.
It was a safe time to indulge in fruits that make dirty people think dirty thoughts, mostly because no one was around.
Half way through, the boy who sits opposite me and visits his desk for not more than five minutes during the day decides this is the perfect time to get back to work.
Then the boy who sits all the way on the other side decides he has some very important information to share so he comes and hits who who sits across and they both stand up and start excitedly talking about god-knows-what while my half eaten banana sits in my hand.
They both peer over at what's in my hand.
Then there is silence.
Story of my life.