I get dreams where my folks are trying to find a guy for me. When I get up I thank myself for not having gone to India, to meet them. When I look behind the doors, in dark, I see shapes of weirdly-shaped people hung to death. They are actually stuff like clothes, bags, hats, purses. I see dreams where my toothbrush is placed face down on the side of a wet sink. I get angry in my dream. Very angry. Who took the toothbrush from my room and kept it in the bathroom like that? A dream where I have to work on-campus Fridays too. Such other dreams. Then I actually look at the kitchen and sigh. There has been a broccoli floret in the sink, choking the water, for three days now. I cannot cook because there are many other things waiting to be cleaned and disposed and kept in place. The bathroom is dirty, and I am not getting into the details. I am trying to stay calm. Because I have a large to-do list to make, laundry to take care of, and many other things, which I can do not crib about for a change.

And then a jolt wakes me up. What am I doing worrying about these things? Of course I should, but not so much that other important things take a backseat. I want to write about many things – homosexuality, men vs women, love, education, etc. I have a wonderful job that I can make use of in my personal life too. I have to paint on canvas, and all the shells and stones that I have collected. I can make lots of time for myself this semester. It’s probably my final months as a student, and boy what a feeling it is to be a student! I am going to miss this, and my school too. I have to make the most of it. I want to brush up my French, start learning the sign language, and Spanish, practice harmonica. I want to get back to yoga. If I get a permanent job, I want to be ready to learn violin. I want to get a driver’s licence. One month of 2015 has already gone past me and I don’t think I have done much in that time (though I have watched a lot of good TV). Still, there’s eleven months to go!


Stevie the TV

I watch a lot of TV and I am proud of that. It’s not just entertainment for me. Also, if I am not doing that, I am either outside house, or inside, cooking or cleaning or sleeping or painting or writing or getting pissed off. Me watching TV pisses off one of my roommates who thinks I waste my time a lot, but I think that’s what people who love to gossip think.

Finished the season two of MadMen and all set to move to season three. The characters have started growing on me now. My initial resistance to people like Pete, Roger, Joan, Don, is disappearing. Yes, even Pete and Roger. I love Joan. She is such a woman! Don pissed me off with his philandering, but I have really started to feel his predicament. I can understand what it must be like, to be alone, to not feel love, and to think of sex just as an activity that has to be performed. Besides his cheating, he is awesome. Strong, professional, empathetic, with a gooey heart and furrowed brows. Pete has cried many times before and he is stupid, and also an asshole. I don’t want to make myself feel sorry for him, and I am going to stop myself from that, but the last time he cried, it moved me a bit. It will be interesting to know how Peggy is going to grow. She does not want anyone telling her what to do, and she knows what morals should mean to her, but she still takes shit from the Father. May be she likes him, may be she is looking for something more than just a successful career, may be she really does fear this place called Hell (because she does believe in God). It would be interesting to find out. My favourite, Betty. It breaks me to see her. To watch her deal with what she thought was craziness. To watch her family crumble down. To face her fears and madness alone. To smoke and drink and get nervous. I want to know what is going to happen to her, while her husband keeps cheating on her, and still tells her that he is nothing without her. I want to know if having slept with a stranger has given her some perspective of things, or if she was just venting out. I want to know how Salvatore will come out. There are many other subtle things, like how women, blacks, poor people are treated. The way people wear clothes, the way they show up. The way men have bloated egos and the way women deal with their insecurities. Also, what will happen to Sterling Cooper?

I love MadMen. It makes me understand human nature, because it depicts it perfectly. It’s a complete chaos inside every mind. It makes certain beliefs that I have about human nature stronger. It gives me perspective. I am watching Friends too. But it’s a happy world, where a bunch of friends are doing what they love to do. They may not be successful, but they have friends, and they love each other. It’s very sweet and I want to watch Monica getting hitched to Chandler. It’s a pretty world, that even the actors in there probably yearn for. I love how friends deal with Monica’s cooking and cleaning, Chandler’s sarcasm and humour as self-defense mechanism and inability to cry, Phoebe’s prophetic weirdness (ahem), and much more. Joey is probably my favourite. And also the occasional Janice.

I guess I should return to my reading too. The Catcher in the Rye. It had got me hooked, but I started travelling and haven’t read anything since. Got some more plans in the pipeline to travel, may be to new continents, but I need to have money for that. Anyway, I guess I cannot do enough justice to a lot of things if I try doing all of them at the same time. TV is good for now.

Writer’s Block – A Short Story

Robin: Hi! What’s up?

Kohinoor: Not much. Was going to write an awesome poem.

Robin: Wow! What do you mean “was going to write”?

Kohinoor: Well, not going to write it anymore. What’s up with you?

Robin: Well, I was going to write something too. What was the poem about?

Kohinoor: Love, I guess.

Robin: Ah! Why are you not going to write it then?

Kohinoor: I am bored. What were you going to write about?

Robin: Feminism.

Kohinoor: Why are you not going ahead with it, then?

Robin: Well, I thought why not give someone else a chance to write about us?

Life in Brackets

(Life in Brackets does not mean a thing.)

The fat black lady on a sidewalk in Manhattan Avenue screamed,”Hey you mister! How are you today? Do you have a cigarette for me?” She tried to be as sweet as possible with her crackling thick voice. Mister could have been any one of the many men walking in all directions, but it most probably was the guy who was not smoking. Another guy turned around, while typing something into his cellphone. He looked at me and smiled,”New York City huh!”. I smiled back,”I know, right?”. (He did not wait for me to say that, though. New York city, huh?)

Then I walked around a lot, and shopped. Shopped. Shopped. With all the money that a girl knows how to conjure after many days of having learned the art of “not spending”. I thought shopping would calm my nerves. Well, duh, it didn’t. (It didn’t.)

I ran for the hills when I left DC. I don’t know why. But I guess I had started thinking that my sweet friends are stupid, and I could not stand them. Also, I guess they could not stand me either. They wanted me to stay longer, but I for some reason felt that to keep loving them unconditionally I had to run away. But I had started getting scared of myself, and my thoughts. No scruples about being evil, you know. Also, I had not opened my best friend’s email, which was an invitation to her wedding. I was scared about opening it. Marrying to come to the US was not a part of the plan. It was a joke written in the margins. I was shit-scared. (SHIT-SCARED)

I reached NY very very early in the morning, when it was still dark. The city of dreams, where more dreams were broken than made. You could see them scattered on icy roads, dirty subway stations, stinky trains, torn jackets. Avoiding the stares and mutters of wasted hungry high people, I boarded my train. The guy sitting in front of me was asleep, sprawled. He spread a stench. People closed their noses, but did not avoid him. I heard a couple of guys talk about something, and because I have been blank, begging to air for words, I pulled off my beanie. They were shouting and talking some crap about jet blast. After five minutes I was thoroughly bored. I put back the beanie. Stupid people. They kept blabbering for the next twenty minutes or so. It was time to get off, to board a new train. I had settled, and was kind of happy sitting there. Man gets used to weird things, you know. I could have sat in that train for 5-6 hours more, or may be for the rest of my life. (…)

I then reached my friend’s place when it was still dark. I was glad that she finally picked my phone and let me in. I went to sleep, and when I got up I sensed something weird. Me and my fucking senses. Something was definitely wrong, I came to know later. Between my friend and her guy.  I fell sick the same night and was so for four straight days. Terribly sick. PMS and migraine is the worst combination ever, and no one sees anything from the outside, so you got to shut up and curl into a ball. First night I thought I was going to die, but I did not. (Seriously.)

Things still seem weird. I enjoy being alone, especially after seeing my friends. Man! I can’t believe that I used to be in relationships. There is something nagging me, though. I guess I just cannot wait anymore for my best friend to come here. She is sad about leaving Bombay. I got to tell her, that she is going to be in NY. My angel is made for the city of dreams, where dreams are dreamt, made, broken. She has no clue what is ahead of her. (No clue.)

Buh-bye New York. I’ll see you again soon.