Recently, I came across the term Minimalist on the Nourishing Minimalism blog for the first time.
http://nourishingminimalism.com/

Once I read more about it, I realised that I am surely a wannabe Minimalist. It does make a lot of sense to me and this is something I would really like to try.

Mess or clutter is something I have never liked. It makes me stressed and unhappy. Though my house doesn't look messy but there is a lot of hidden mess. Our house has a lot of open space as its a big space and we don't have a lot of furniture. Also as it was just the two of us, we had enough space to store all the junk we had. But now with two kids and with one set of parents living with us, it is high time to declutter.

So, the plan is to start decluttering ASAP. I think the strategy that will work for me is the everyday 15 minute declutter. Right now, I really don't have the luxury to spend large batches of time to declutter. So, the 15 minute challenge will work for now though I feel I need to spend at least a couple of weekends taking care of my clothes situation.

So, let the decluttering challenge begin. 

A Little Indexing

Just a little indexing of posts elsewhere.

Story of Us - Part I

Story of Us - Part II

Story of Us - Part III

Poet (A Poem)

Udikna - A Real Story

Zindagi ka Yeh Mod

Zindagi is mod pe aakar 

kuch thahar si gaayi hai. 

Alag alag raaste bhi hai,

aur unki apni apni manzilein bhi. 

Sab saamne hai, sab khule hai,

bas chah nahin to chah nahin chun nein ki. 

Jaane kyon is mod pe aakar 

zindagi kuch thahar si gayi hai. 

Na baandhe hai mujhe koi bediyan,

na ghere hai mujhe koi samasyaon ka jaal. 

Phir bhi jaane kyon is mod pe

zindagi kuch jakad se gayi hai.

Tum bhi ho aur main bhi hoon 

aur shayad se woh pyaar bhi. 

Lekin kuch hai jo nahin hai, 

ya shaayad se kuch tha hi nahin. 

Jaane kyon yeh maansikta 

mere mann mein simat si gayi hai. 

Zindagi is mod pe aakar, 

kuch tahar si gaayi hai.

A Smoky Lounge

It is Friday night.

You come home, loosen your tie 

and kick your shoes off. 

Another day gone, another week over. 

We look at each other, a half smile and a long sigh.

Not bad or is it? 

We lie down on the bed. 

You ruffle my hair, and say "let’s go out". 

"Sure", I smile back at you. 

And then we are there, 

at a smoky lounge.

It helps you unwind, it keeps me amused. 

A fair bargain or is it? 

You say your hellos, 

and I wear my most appropriate smile. 

You nurse your drink, relax and fit right in. 

I light up my cigarette and blow smoke rings.

Friends, music and drinks 

you forget the humdrum reality. 

I  look around and think.

You say I analyze too much, 

I think you analyze not at all. 

Well it is a good balance or is it?

The Hyderbad Meet

This is the story of Hyderabad meet. It was just another meet for Anantha and IBL, the veteran of thousand meets (Ok I exaggerate a little) but it was a very special meet for me. It was my first time and as Ano told me on the erstwhile DB “The first time is always special". The meet surpassed all my expectations and laid all my apprehensions to rest.

But of course you want to know how it all began. And now that depends on the how long sighted or short sighted you are. It all began with Fizo planning a trip to Hyderabad one dreary day in the Chicago cold. Maybe it had something to do with the sudden intense craving for Tangdi kebab (a dish the Queen is rather fond of) and the good ole biryani. Though she maintains it had more to do with her love for Hyderabad and her now-neglected subjects there. Anyways the Queen is above any questions about her motives. Those of us who are more philosophically inclined like to think it all began with the start of DSS or Sulekha or World Wide Web or Universe or Time depending on their philosophical quotient. But since I am the writer of this piece let me tell you how it all began for me. It was one of those fine days on the DB (could that day have been otherwise?) when Anantha first told Fizo that he will pay a visit to the Queen in the city of nawabs. Of course he meant it as a joke but he did not know that those very words will come and haunt him someday. He said the same thing to me and soon the three of us were exchanging mails and planning dates and all. It was a pity that Monica and Chandler could not join us because of personal reasons. The D-Day was fixed to be 19th of March.

19th March, 2005

Anantha, IBL and I were supposed to meet at Barista (Coffee) at 10:30. We said our hellos and settled down with coffee and sandwiches. I never felt as if I was meeting these guys for the first time. We had so much to talk about. And guys you know what is the first thing that Anantha told me? He said that I look like his aunty. Not only do I look like his aunty but I also walk like her and talk like her. Uff and then he told me in his straight nonchalant way as only Anantha can that all married women are aunties. Uff will guys ever learn? Soon Fizo, her handsome hubby and her sweet little dotter joined us and another session of coffee/smoothies and buckwaas kick started. And yes there was a photo session also. Fizz’s hubby took a lot of photos. (Fizo might put them up some time hopefully). We must have talked about each and every blogger and their blogs. We astounded each other with our memories regarding all the blogs and comments ever posted on the Sulekha and DSS. We moved to Hyderabad Central, a new mall nearby and continued carried our buckwaas with us. And then the most amazing thing happened. The Queen of hearts made IBL (the guy who makes statements like "I do not like love/mush/sad stories") buy the most famous love story i.e. "Love Story" by Erich Segal. Well she isn’t called Queen of hearts for nothing. We had lunch (made sure that they guys ordered biryani but it was not the Hyderabadi Biryani; we were in a place specializing in the North-west frontier cuisine; sigh) and then continued towards the Charminar and the Chowmahallah palace. The buckwaas continued. Chowmahallah palace was a revelation. I never expected to find such a beautiful palace in that place. Only a part of the palace (which once spread over 64 acres) has been restored namely the durbar hall and a few other buildings. We saw the Nawabi throne and I was trying to imagine the splendor in the erstwhile times. How imposing it must have been! We also saw an exhibition of the Nawab's family photographs. Ooh those beautiful ladies in their regal dresses and the haughty kings and princes. The chowkidaar there regaled us with stories behind all the photos/paintings. Most of the nawabs had dozens of wives and one even had 300+ wives according to the chowkidaar. Imagine that!! Anantha took some photos of the photos. We then broke up for some rest and then had dinner together in this place called "Our Place" which is one of my favorite eating places in Hyderabad. At last these guys had a proper Hyderabadi Veg biryani (Well some people maintain that there is nothing called a “Veg Biryani").


20th March, 2005

Well Anantha and IBL had made BIG plans the previous evening to go to Golconda Fort/ Salarjung Museum but well it was too hot. They went to the Birla temple and then IMAX (the local Multiplex) and I joined them there (late as usual). Anantha and IBL did not mind at all the time they spent in the multiplex. They were happily eyeing all the pretty gals there. (Anantha was even “looking out" for a guy once but then thatz another story). Anantha seemed very happy about the fact that some of the girls were on their own. We then watched this movie "Finding Neverland" which we all enjoyed. Then it was back to food and buckwaas (what else!). We talked and talked about this and that. Soon it was time to say goodbye.

It was one of the best weekends I had in a very very long time. A year back when I was just a regular lurker on sulekha and I used to read umpteen stories by Fizo and one-of-a-kind of blogs by Anantha and IBL I never imagined that I will ever befriend these people and even meet them in real life. But this was a great experience. I was a little apprehensive about how it will turn out to be. I thought maybe we will not be able to "click" in real life as we do in the virtual world. And maybe the virtual world will not be the same anymore after the meet. But all my apprehensions vanished within five minutes of saying "Hi" to these two guys. And the virtual world is better off for a real meet. Thanks Fizo for visiting Hyderabad and thanks Anantha and IBL for coming all the way here.

I have missed out on a few things. Hope Fizo, Anantha and IBL will fill you up on those. Like I forgot to mention how the three of them ganged up against me and said all wicked things about me like “You look so pampered, Silo”.

The Voices

She knew the voices too well. She recognized them even in her deep sleep and she got up with a dreadful feeling. No, please stop it; she pleaded. But she knew it will not. And then wearily she woke up and made her way towards her parents’ bedroom in the dark. How well she knew those voices; angry, sarcastic, shouting and petty. She stood at the open door and the sight was just a bit too familiar. She hoped that they would see her soon and be ashamed enough to stop it for some time. For some time; till the next time. They did.

The surface tension is such an apt word. The surface is calm; albeit just a little tightly stretched. But please do not scratch the surface; the dynamics underneath will blow up on your face and believe me it is not a pretty sight. It is disgusting. Disgusting just like the blue and black patch on her mom’s face when she came back from school one day. Blue, black and swollen. She had wanted to throw up.

But it was not always blue and black. Sometimes it was rosy pink. Pink, just like the balloons they had bought at the beach. The balloons she had released into the vast blue sky; her heart soaring with the balloons. And they had looked at her and smiled. Later in the day she had crept into the pooja room and prayed fervently; putting her soul into it. “God, please let everyday be like this”. How the Gods must have laughed at her silly prayers. How silly she had been; and how very pathetic. And of course the prayers had not been answered. We all know what the smallest prick can do to a big rosy pink balloon.

“Di, why are they fighting” her younger sister asked her. Her eyes full of tears and her voice just about to break. “Baby, let them fight, it has nothing to do with us”, she replied. Her face almost brave and her voice almost casual. “Ok, let us go to the other room and I will tell you a story”. They shut the door behind them and she told her about the land far far away. A land of vibrant colors; the flamboyant Orange; the mischievous Yellow; the seductive Red and lovely calm Green. And of course the very happy and very carefree color Pink. But they could still hear the voices through the shut door.

Blue, Black, Pink and then there is the color Grey. Grey; a color she learnt to recognize very late in her life. But once she recognized it she saw it everywhere. It had been all Black and White; her helpless mom; her insensitive dad. But then she grew up. The truth was more complicated; it was in the confusing web of perceptions, expectations, opinions, egos, desires and yes even love. It is strange how different things can be below the surface.

Sometimes there are no colors and no voices. Like here, in the land far away from home; the land she had escaped to; the land where she wanted to start her life anew. And then the land of emptiness and restlessness. Seeking, seeking seeking something unknown in this strange land but too afraid to look for it. Afraid because she did not know what it was; afraid that she would not find it and afraid that she would lose it. She had escaped so that she could blend in but she felt naked and vulnerable in this land of beautiful and confident people; people comfortable with themselves and secure in the knowledge of Loves they had and cherished. So she donned many different cloaks. Indifference was her favorite one. Calmness came a close second. Soon she could even manage to wear the masks of confidence and happiness. But could she be one of Them ever?

Silence

Silence hides a multitude of feelings.
Behind the deceptive tranquil facade
lie emotions, many and varied.
Emotions,
restless like the confined winds,
raging as though to break all barriers,
gushing to end all boundaries.
But, Silent.

No one knows and no one can know
the untold feelings, blazing within.
Searing to unknown heiights.
but, unheard and unseen.

Myriad emotions play havoc with the soul,
taking it apart.
The mind wanders in the labyrinth
of emotions, lost and writhing in agony.
But not a look, not a word
and not a sigh.
Silent is the suffering
and silent is the eternal battle
beween the heart and mind.

Silent are the words
that 'looks' can speak.
Words which hover on lips
wanting desperately to come out
but held back,
by an unreasonable fear.
A fear that eats upon our minds
gnawing at our souls, silently.

But how long can silence last?
How long can silence sustain hope?
Eventually the torrent of feelings come rushing out.
Feelings suppressed for aeons
all come tumbling out.
Sudden and random
in quick expression.
Confused and uncertain
in their new expression.

Shocking is this erruption
shocking in its suddeness
in its intensity
in its source.

And then it subsides
as abruptly as it had risen.
leaving behind not a trace
not a sign but the ETERNAL SILENCE.

A Poem

Love feeds on Alcohol, I did not know.

It is yet another night
and we are where we usually are at this time.
The bar is dark,
smoke fills the empty spaces between our bodies.
Bored eyes, vacant stares.

We order Some gin and tonic,
You look at me across the table and smile.
Your friend says something and all of us laugh.
You light up a cigarette and hold my hand.
Dazed eyes, Vacant stares.

We order some more gin and tonic
I get up from the table and groove to the music
The DJ starts a romantic number,
you hold my hand and sing along.
Bleary eyes, Vacant stares.

We order some more gin and tonic.
I laugh often, I laugh loud.
And you kiss me and ask,
"Darling, did you have a nice time?"
Glazed eyes, vacant stares.

Love feeds on Alcohol, I did not know.