Monday night blues.

Work got done by 5 last evening, and i was just not in the mood to get right back into reality. So i went out. And i got drunk - starting with a Breezer, moving on to 8 whiskeys and finally ending with a Breezer at three in the morning on the roadside in a car.

It reminded me of the good times with The Boy. Of driving around because neither of us wanted to go back home or be away from each other, circling close to the house, talking, listening to music. Only difference, this time it was with Geek Boy and it had nothing to do with love and attraction and any of those things commonly associated with two people out together.

We wound up at the watering hole around 12-ish, drove around for a bit, parked somewhere on the side of Outer Ring Road and talked. And talked and talked and talked. Mostly about life and love. About being better people for the people we love. Of making the right choices, taking chances, risking a heartbreak in the hope that things won't really come to that. Then we drove around a little more and picked up a pint and a Breezer, and drove towards home. And then we parked on the roadside again. And played random old songs. Some on loop. Some halfway. Iris by Goo Goo Dolls. And we finished our respective bottles. I told him about how i was a bundle of topsy-turvy, helter-skelter emotions and that i didn't wish for anybody to go through the shit i'm going through, and he held my hand and kissed it and said that i shouldn't worry about him or be afraid for him.

And then, because i was rapidly losing control over my bladder, we went to an all-night coffee shop in a five-star hotel to use their restroom. Then we drove towards my place and played Gotye. And we screamed our lungs out at 3:30 in the morning, shouting the lyrics, putting every ounce of our emotion into it, every bit of angst, every bit of anger and frustration and love and pain and heartache. And we sang. We screamed and we sang.

The singing aloud? It was cathartic. Healing.

It was exactly what i needed last night.

Hello Monday morning! Come n' get some lovin!

I've spent the last three days out of town - a break i desperately needed. (I realised just how badly i wanted one, when i hit the geographical boundaries of Bangalore and all the shit in my head was waiting there to welcome me.) I went back to Coorg after over three years.

My travel companions were totally new - i'd never travelled with any of them before. We had wild animals and insects for company, bird songs for music, a bit of alcohol, good food and lived in absolute isolation from mankind for three whole days. The jeep rides to and from the place we stayed at rattled our bones so much that i can still feel the vibrations of it. We did a bit of exploring on our own, walking along a secluded stream and taking amazing pictures in the beautiful sunlight, climbing our way to a coffee estate that was covered in snow-shaded coffee flowers in full bloom and falling into a soul trance listening to the prayers at the Golden Temple, Kushalnagar.

It was a very serene holiday. And i'm back now, ready to face things. For a while, at least.

My mood after the trip: A pocketful of sunshine.

Some kicka** news.

So, another week has flitted past, leaving me with a couple of things to feel proud about: i have managed to do a lot, a LOT of work. I met two stud muffins friends from Hyderabad who run their own agency and believe that meetings are best conducted over a bottle (or ten) of beer. I watched Paan Singh Tomar (nice movie) and feasted on Pan Asian cuisine at Republic of Noodles (try their All Spice flavoured Chocolate Mousse). Managed to catch up with people i hadn't met in a while, spent time with Grandmom and cousins, and and and...

I've started Kickboxing! Tough as hell but so, so, so awesome! The perfect channel for all that aggression in me and a great adrenaline rush that drives all depressing thoughts out of the window. (Despite falling on my tush a couple of times and toppling over like a ton of bricks while doing handstands.)

Now i'm ready for whatever's in store. One tackle, arm lock and break, one chop and i'm sorted with life. Heeeheeheeheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Just discovered: Parov Stelar.

Every morning, a song makes itself heard in my head. I don't know where it comes from and when, but it does. And it's stuck there almost all day. I sing it when i ride to work, sing it while at work, mutter the lyrics under my breath and blah blah - you get the drift.

This morning, Strange Love crept up on me and slayed my mind. I had to HAD TO come to work and listen to it on Youtube. One thing led to another and i ended up hearing The Mojo Radio Gang by Parov Stelar. (Very thrilled with myself, i walked up to Geek Boy and told him i had just discovered Parov Stelar and he gave me this look of "Oh, you're finally catching up." Whatever. Hmph.)

It's classic sounds with a twist, kinda like a Moby and Jazz mish-mash. Kinda, sorta. Whatever it is, i love it!

Read about Parov Stelar here and hear the songs here.

What will you do?

Will you let go? Will you watch me cry as i accept someone else as the man i want to spend my life with? Clap and cheer and be happy for me? Will you sacrifice me, us, at the altar? Will you save yourself? Take the easy way out?

Will we be strangers? Will we be friends? Lovers? Together? Or just somebody we used to know?

The week gone by.

I know i started the year with a bang (figuratively speaking) - and i still hold dear the belief that this year is going to be goood - but somewhere along the line, i stopped keeping a tab of the things i did every week.

In an attempt to resurrect it, here goes:
On Monday, i went to work and then went for an impromptu 60-minute Thai foot reflexology massage with Sister K.
On Tuesday, i cracked a campaign.
On Wednesday, i wished the impatient G for her wedding anniversary and called her a bigger brat now that she was expecting a baby.
On Thursday, i did nothing out of the ordinary. Oh wait. I did do something out of the ordinary. Something very stimulating, interesting and extraordinarily exciting (for me) and of which i shall talk about soon enough in the near future.
On Friday, i went for Kahaani - the perfect kind of mystery thriller because it keeps you wondering what the hell the mystery is and how the heck does it all come together till the last minute - and had a salad for dinner. Yay me!
On Saturday, i vegetated.
On Sunday, it struck me at 9:30 p.m that the David Guetta show was due to happen. Or had already happened by then, as i now know. And i worked a little bit to ease out the work pressure from my current week, which if i may say so, did not help at all.

Human salad.

“People aren't either wicked or noble. They're like chef's salads, with good things and bad things chopped and mixed together in a vinaigrette of confusion and conflict.”
- Lemony Snicket, A Series of Unfortunate Events Book Eleven - The Grim Grotto

I saw the beauty of the moon with new eyes last night. (No, i didn't get a pair of glasses.)

'Twas a night for experimentation: how many different ways could i shoot the full moon in?

I heart my telephoto. It's opened up a world of opportunities for me.

Another new blog.

Call it going on a rampage or whatever, but i just felt like i had to start another blog, and i did.

It's on WordPress and it's going to be all about travel.

There's only one post so far, but i will be adding more soon - accounts of my past travel.

Read it here.

My little monkey.

Well, he's not really mine, but he plays on the tree outside my room, which makes the tree sort of mine and therefore him too... Never mind.

He's fearless, can jump deftly from one branch to the other and is an absolute pleasure to watch and shoot. I love his antics of hanging upside down, sideways, any which way you can think of.

Sometimes, he's joined by two other little monkeys. Whom i will also claim as mine.

Camera: Nikon D3000. Lens: 70mm-300mm telephoto.

My next telephoto experiment: shooting the moon.

A thought.

Instagram's turned everyone into a photographer.

Bah.

Me.

"Not many people cared much about knowing her. Most people preferred to keep their distance. I don't know what her having made herself into what she was had done for her.She could've been ordinary if she wished."

- Harold Brodkey, Innocence

Odds and ends.

I collect random things through random phases of my life.

When i was a kid, i collected beads and screws and pictures of landscapes and flowers.

When i grew slightly older, i collected leaves and flowers and squished them between pages of books and diaries. Once they were dry, i'd use them to make something or i'd just look at them and feel happy.

In my teens, i started collecting things of sentimental value - a stray sheaf of pages from my third standard notebook; page-long stories i'd written about a little girl or a crow or a lion or a baby or an ant - insects seemed to have been my favourite; pictures from my parents' wedding; stones and shells from various places i had been to; a plastic rose that someone close gave me; a Cadbury's wrapper; twigs; a string of thread; love letters; even wallets that i have previously owned are all kept away like precious pieces of memory. Now, this collection has also grown to include drawings and letters and messages from young cousins.

These days, i collect post cards. Every time i hear of a friend travelling to some exotic destination, ask them to bring me back postcards. I collect Roald Dahl books. Asterix comics. Lemony Snicket stories.

I'm not sure if my changing collections speak volumes about who i am, but i'm sure of one pattern - that sooner or later, my interest in things shifts. Nothing stays. And surprisingly, now that i think about it, i'll be collecting something else when i die.

I'll be collecting dust ten feet underground.