What lies beneath

It was a while ago that Lemontree tagged me... And the only reason i never responded was that i didn't know what that meant. Well now I do (and thanks for that, Lemon)

So here goes...

i am thinking about...
buying a few large photo-albums and filling them with the scores of loose photos I have... from different times and places, with different people.

i said…
to someone the other day that the surest way to fill your home with happiness was to adopt a puppy. I meant it.

i want to...
travel across the world with a close companion, a camera, some cash and comfy shoes.

i wish...
for the courage to follow my heart

i hear...
scary sounds at night if I spook myself out by watching a horror movie.

i wonder…
where ants march to all day long. Do they sleep? Do they feel? Fall in love? Worry about family?
Ants – fascinate me.

i regret...
not learning music.

i am...
deliberately goofy. It keeps my friends smiling, and me from taking me too seriously.

i dance...
when I’m happy. Only when I’m happy.

i sing...
all the time. Songs I learnt many many years ago. In different languages. In a medium pitch. When I’m thinking, bored, scared, sad or happy. Better than many.

i cry...
sometimes without reason. More easily than most people would believe.

i am not always...
tactful

i make with my hands...
a rangoli outside the front door, every year on Diwali. It takes me an hour, never comes out perfect, and clearly shows the amateur effort that goes into it.

i write...

because I know the memory dulls after a while and pictures get hazy

i confuse...
between the left and the right. Everytime except when I’m driving. I call it Direction Dyslexia and I know it’s a common problem.

i need…
an anchor

"My coat and I live comfortably togther. It has assumed all my wrinkles, does not hurt me anywhere, has moulded itself on my deformities, and is complacent to all my movements, and I only feel its presence because it keeps me warm. Old coats and old friends are the same thing."-

Victor Hugo

Sensory overload

I wish for deep, clear water to go under for a while. A long while. As long as it takes to relieve my senses of the assaults they face all day.

Countless Ganpati processions clanging and beating innumerable drums. The TV playing in the other room. Wind chimes. The steam from the pressure cooker. Dog barking at the processions. The phone ringing. Voices - boss, client, my own. The periodic thud of the ball that G's bouncing on the wall. The clicking of the keyboard as i type this. My head ready to explode. Thank God i'm miles away from Thelma at least. The next time i meet her, i'll surely find a way to talk about voice modulation.

The incense from Dad's room. G's sweaty socks somewhere...gotta find them and throw them into the bloody garbage can. Milk boiling. Did you know that boiling milk has an aroma? It does. The snooty neighbour cooking fish. The aroma distracting, making mouth water, mind go back many months to that cloudy afternoon at Lobos, making me acutely aware of how long its been...

The sweets that Rekha's been making since Ganpati started. It began with steamed modaks (i'm sick of them now but still...yummmm!!!) and ended this evening with my favvvvooooorite coconut-milk-and-jaggery payasam. This, after creamy cake in office. Papaya in the morning. More fruits in the evening. Chocolate - even though only a tiny bit in the cab on the way home.

The fan that i can't live with or without. Too hot, too cold. Either this extreme or that. The only thing i know in the world that gives it to you black or white. No in between shades of grey. The kaajal that's smudged. The cuticles that beg to be pushed back. The scratches on my arms thanks to Dog. The oily T zone.

And my eyes...reading. Always, always reading - books, newspaper, magazine, blogs, calorie chart on jam jar, washing instructiong on new delicate top, e-mails - bouquets, brickbats, jokes, sms's, faces. Helping me tease, accuse, plead, disapprove, ask, tell, smile. Helping me see, helping me hide.

And yet, when S asked me what i read, i'd no answer. I didn't know. What DO i read?

Wish it were possible to switch off. I know some people can. I know i cannot. I think i should just go to sleep. That's pretty much like being underwater, isn't it? And you can breathe.