In a Pot of Bubbling Sauce - The Result of a Quick Poetic Exercise

He had been prowling the streets
The usual routine
Checking for spies
Or even traitors
But the godfather could not save him now
He was far too deep in his own pasta and meatballs
The spaghetti ropes were overcooked and falling everywhere limp
Like the clandestine antiestablishmentarian establishments
Fuck. He thought...he was stuck in a pot that he had not wanted to even step into
Magenta walls towered over him as he hoped someone would find him
Down this dark alley vertical in the ground
He looked up hearing a voice...Bharti? Was it her? Was it that no good mother of his come to rescue him everytime he couldn't solve his own problems?

An Uprooted Being

Just like plants, humans have roots too. And just like a plant's roots, human roots play an important role in our growth as individuals.

This piece stems from a common question and an attempt to understand my missing self.

"So, where are you from?"

I've been asked this question so many times in college. Everyone asks this to every other one. In a way, it's a question of curiosity. Do you fit the stereotypes that exist around your place of origin? Are you one of those nomads, meaning someone in your family is either a diplomat or serves in the armed forces? Or are you simply an NRI?

I've said different answers to different people. 

Sometimes it's just 'Delhi', assuming they're asking where my 'hometown' is, which generally translates to "Where do you end up every summer to visit family?"

Sometimes it's 'Bangalore', referring to my city of residence and where I've spent most of my life so far.

Most of the times though I end up answering with this: "I was born in Delhi, but I've never lived there. Then before I was one we moved to the States. I lived there for 7 years. After that we moved to Bangalore. And we're still here. So, you can figure out for yourself where I'm from."

There are times I go into a rambling story about my ancestors and where they're from, but that's only when people are asking for it.

Although people say it's quite clear where I'm from, all the while failing to mention the place they think so, I really don't feel the same.

In college, culture plays an important role in your work. A lot of motifs and illustrative styles emerge from the culture you would have immersed yourself into. This holds true even for patterns you weave into textiles, your choice of colours, even the look and feel of a product/piece of furniture you might create.

Culturally I've never been rooted to anything in particular. I've read about different cultures from across the world, spanning various time periods. While they're all really interesting, I didn't find myself wanting to follow any of them. I should be following my own culture, whatever that is supposed to be, but with my formative years being spent in one place and the rest of my life elsewhere, I've kind of gotten lost. Not to mention my parents are more spiritual and disciplinarian, with Western ideologies but Indian upbringing. Culture did not take up a very big part in my growing years. Maybe if I'd spent more time with my grandparents, I might have known more about 'my culture', but that's all pointless speculation.

Although I walk around like a lost soul with a part of my identity completely missing, it's not like I know nothing about my cultural ways. I just can't seem to associate myself with it. I'm not sure I ever will.

Mundu Mime

A poem I wrote for my character, which is now a mural.

Mundu Mime had no head. Well almost.
But the poor thing was almost dead.
Mundu Mime, he felt terribly stupid 
For his body was entirely crooked.
He felt so bad for his shape.
In every house, he hid behind the drapes.
The hosts, they always stared.
Poor Mundu Mime, how much he cared.

Mundu is the traditional attire for men in Kerala, India. It is a long piece of cloth that is tied around the waist in a specific manner.

Only the Paranoid Survive

I've lived for 19 years being paranoid. So far nothing bad has happened. But then nothing has happened either.

Being paranoid has its perks. Every time you venture out at night, you make sure there are at least 10 people with you. Sometimes you don't venture out at night at all, just to be on the safe side. Not even if there are 10 men along with you. You don't want those creepy, lusty men on bikes after you now, do you?

Available as different thoughts, fears and intensities, paranoia can be related to health too. A mosquito bit you this morning? Better to get tested for dengue and malaria. Sneezing are you? It could be the symptom for hundreds and thousands of fatal diseases. With paranoia, you wont have to worry about all of this. Why, you ask. Only because you would've taken the necessary precautions to avoid all these horrifying situations.

Paranoia would also cause you to question your parents plans for anything, from a trip to the movies to a trip to some exotic beach resort. You will begin to question what they are saying when they shut the door to discuss something private (and if you happen to open the door without knocking you'll find out they were talking in a foreign language... A sure sign you should prepare for the worst).

As you can read, you live in constant fear of anything and everything (for instance, I'm in fear of my parents reading this right now). Now, you must be wondering "Well, nothing bad happens... But what about the good stuff? What about letting go and having fun?"

No. As a person who's constantly paranoid, you tend not to. You don't go for parties at night, because someone might try to harm you while walking back home, if not at the party itself. You tend to stay away from people till you think they deserve your trust (which might take them time before they deserve it). You don't even go for group dinner outings for fear of getting home too late, thus giving you insufficient time to do your work. You can't even make it to your friend's surprise midnight birthday party, even if her house is 5 minutes away by cycle.

Paranoia can prove to be quite an annoyance when you're wondering where your social life went. But it's easy to get rid of too. All you have to do is take the leap of faith. And maybe, if you keep a tiny little bit of leftover paranoia, you can manage to survive in the jungle we call society.

Seasonal Somethings

Temperatures rise,

Clear skies, no rains, happy times.

Perfect beach weather.

Rumble, rumble, boom

Drops of freshness, petrichor.

It’s bath time, dear world.

Aging trees, red, gold.

Like wine, maturity gives

Priceless, crisp beauty.

Blankets by fireplace,

Warm comforts in crunchy snow,

Hot chocolate, books.

A change in colours,

The leaves metamorph again,

New season is here.

A Hotel Room

On a backpacking trip alone, I stopped at a hotel on the way due to an unforeseen change in the weather. I was lucky to have carried a lot of money. The hotel turned out to have pretty posh accommodation and I ended up staying there for the rest of my 7 day trip, a total of 5 days. What can I say, the view was so beautiful. Overlooking a lake, I’d sit on a beanbag in the balcony staring out at the cloudless sky, day and night. Stars would fill the sky in millions as I spent my time in a hotel room in the middle of nowhere. I’d sleep whenever I wanted to, in a plush bed with feather stuffed pillows, while the television provided a soft lullaby. It all seemed too real to be true, and I was completely comfortable with it. The fact that the hotel’s name was Mirage didn’t bother me. I had been lulled into the lap of luxury by a lake.

It’s a surprise I hadn’t stayed any longer. On the fifth day, as I sat staring at the lake in the morning, I noticed a tiny detail. One of the guests who jogged around the lake everyday had been wearing the same clothes and was in the same position at the same time as the previous days. I found it odd and decided to get out of my hotel room. The minute I stepped out of the door, my head spun and my insides felt as dry as a desert. The heat was getting to my head. I looked around and noticed the crumbling ruins that once made this lonely hotel. When I looked back into my room I saw torn bedsheets and a broken television set. I looked further at the pristine lake, menacingly clearer than a clear sky. I grabbed my backpack and ran out fast and far away.

It was a rocky road, with nothing but sand everywhere. Green was a rare sighting. I ran on and on, the scenery the same on either side. Suddenly I saw a building ahead, a solitary standing structure. As I came closer, it seemed to be familiar but I couldn’t figure out why. I stepped in to find out it was a hotel, and was taken to a lavish room immediately. I looked out the balcony to see a mirror lake, calm and composed, almost as if it were a placid person. The bellboy said “Welcome to Hotel Mirage.” I smiled to thank him, closing the door as he left.

5 Minutes to Signup

There are 5 minutes to signup, our chaotic, evil system of choosing a course via a website (custom built I assume).
So if this makes no sense, it's probably because I can't see what I am typing due to the darkness on campus (no one is getting up to switch on the lights for fear of not signing up on time... It's a fastest-fingers-first sort of system...) or because I am in a hurry to put everything down on this so I don't miss my course.
I am sitting in an almost empty campus save the few people from my batch all waiting restlessly to get this over with. And some people in the admin office and the security staff.
Shit I am so nervous. Almost everyone wants the same courses in the VisComm department.
My friend just told me the time... I have 3 minutes. I should go start endlessly refreshing the website...
OH MY GOD!!!!!!!
I got my courses...Screen Printing and Calligraphy. Which I should say are the most wanted courses for the workshop weeks. Oh my god!
That has got to have been the shortest and most intense signup I've ever had.
Usually I'm chilling at the p.g. in my room with music, an hour to signup.
This time it was a roller-coaster ride.
My adrenaline is still rushing...

Let me give you a brief background to what generally happens.
You access a website, login with a unique ID used for all our college official work. Then you wait, refreshing endlessly, for checkboxes to appear signifying the start of signup. Click the checkbox, hit the save button all fast enough and you will be lucky to be ensured you will get those courses. Otherwise you're stuck looking for a nice course which hasn't been filled up. And they get filled up fast. Speed of sound fast.
And that's pretty much it. Later you feel like you've just run a marathon. And then there are all the sighs of relief or disappointment.
You have tense people, restless people, excited people, people with no hope all around you before and during signup. The atmosphere is mostly thick with stress. Music doesn't help most of the time.

Yep that's signup for you.
You're in trouble if you have a slow internet connection.