Tag Archives: Monday

149: A Day In The Lives Of Most Of Us

29 May

I woke up very early for a Sunday. Given that I had to go in to work as well, it felt oddly fine to get out of bed before 7am; after all, there’d just be more time to do the things I’d wanted to do. Sunday mornings, according to me, ought to be spent savouring the best the weekend has to offer – it’s quiet, it’s peaceful, it’s pleasant, it’s the calm you need before the rush of yet another week begins. Therefore, in order for my Sunday to be perfect, it needs to be hearty in a subtle, non-overpowering way. For that, I have always imagined either sipping my tea whilst inhaling the aromas of a freshly baked cake rising in the oven or while digging into said warm cake as I have my tea. There’d also be the ambient sounds of chirping birds, the rustle of a newspaper, the crack of a biscuit or two (though they don’t really feature in this act when there’s cake around), minimal conversation, and perhaps the subtle seduction of a guitar playing in the background as well. I achieved some of this yesterday; except there wasn’t any cake fluffing up in the oven because I’d run out of baking powder and hadn’t bothered remembering to get a new bottle. I sought the company of my blog instead, when I still had tea to drink and was done with my papers.

Today was a different set-up. It did involve the appropriation of my Sunday morning fantasies, except, it looked and felt a little like this; something that may be all too familiar to you as well.

Please note that this is the dream I was trying to achieve – sipping on my cup of tea with A, while reading the newspaper in the ambience of chirping birds and the aroma of a cake.

I woke up and by default put on some water to boil for tea. In the meantime, I got the ingredients for my cake ready, and was just about to start on this process when; and I will use the now atrociously common phrase “but first let me…” (not take a selfie, but…)

…add milk to this boiling water for my tea.
…scoop this cream that’s collected on top of this bowl of milk and keep it aside.
…gather all the cream I’ve been collecting and make some ghee (clarified butter) out of it, since I already have the cream at hand.
…turn the tea off (it was done by then and was listlessly boiling away and becoming too strong for our liking)
…get the process of ghee-making started
…put my cake batter together
…oil my hair so I can let it rest while I have my tea, leaving me with enough time to wash it once tea is done.
…turn the tea back on (it had cooled down by now)
…wake A up, because I’ve become his alarm clock now.
…get our tea and biscuits on the table (the cake was in the oven)
…say hello to my plants which are now outside my house (as A opened the door to get the newspaper)
…read while I have my tea
…but wait, let me Instagram this perfect moment
…skim the ghee off the kadhai (wok)
…enjoy my tea-time. Babska, enjoy the present moment, always.

This is endless. This happens to each of us. This has become a regular feature of my life which, if given precedence over everything else, takes over my ability to do one thing at a time (is that necessarily a bad thing?!, you’d ask), or anything else that I might wish to do (like sleep, for example).

Some may call it the ants-in-my-pants syndrome; I just call it the this-domestication-gives-two-fucks-about-living-life-in-the-moment. Sigh.

Having said that, I did end up having my (still) hot tea with biscuits, as I instagrammed a photograph and then proceeded on to read, while enjoying the ambience of birds, the rustle of trees, the shuffle of the newspaper, and the smell of freshly baked cake and homemade ghee that was bubbling away, all in the company of A. I hope you have a wonderful week ahead, and a great Monday today. :)

Bluen Away

22 Jun

Mondays have never really been a problem or a day that brought about the repertoire of thoughts, feelings and actions that it is usually associated world over with. The last time I remembered them being more than just the start of a week was when I either had a sucky boss or sucky clients or sucky colleagues or had to dwell in the muck of suckiness in general. Let’s take a moment to really condole those who have a mix of all of the above on a regular basis. It’s not fun and it’s definitely not how a week should begin, unless you’re someone who only cares about weekends, in which case, well, there’s no need for me to comment further.

Having said that, this particular day which also (sadly) is a Monday (because what did Mondays ever do to us? and no my weekends are most delightful!) seems to be one that’s on a different tangent altogether. I’m not entirely sure if it’s the weather (which is overcast and windy and oh-so-lovely, if you must know) or if it’s my hormones or if it’s something else I cannot really put a finger on that’s making it the way it is. The day didn’t exactly begin the way I would have liked it to and while I’m fighting to keep it as positive as I can, it hardly seems to be the reason why today is just plain blahlethargicOMGgogetalifeandsomeicecreamandcomebackagainifyoumust. I just don’t get it. Coffee has also been had, as have my elevenses snacks (of fried spicy chana because healthy and me don’t really jam it up well). Existential conversations comprising hope, relationships, past experiences and existentialism have also been had under blossoming trees and that overcast sky that I feel like packing a bit of and using as a pillow from time to time. I’ve clocked 9+ hours of sleep last night in my kitty as well. So yes, I just don’t get it. It’s baffling. It’s debilitating. It’s so BLAH.

In the interim, just so I can keep myself going, I’ve tried finishing off some work to not feel completely useless and unproductive. And I’ve also updated my Facebook status (because sometimes shallow things like updating statuses is the way of life) to target/lash out at/vomit my words out at (ouch) random people who seem to perpetually be unhappy about anything and everything and most definitely, everyone. Do you come across people who, for the sake of nothing really, impose upon the world and the kind people in it, unhealthy doses of drama and all the crap that comes packaged with said drama? How do you deal with them? Of course it makes best sense to ignore these specimens and move on with one’s life, but then, before you know it, you hit another jobless jack on the same trail. So I wonder if there are other secret ways of annihilating the effects of the dumbness that’s wafting all around. At the end of the day, I’ve come to realize that people are unhappy come what may. I mean we human beings don’t deserve second chances because I’m pretty sure even those aren’t enough/satisfactory.

So the fight is on to keep said severe Monday blue at bay. I have absolutely no idea what’s gotten into today. Apparently it’s not just me either. Maybe I’m really missing the pork sausage I chomped down with my rum and iced tea over conversations with friends, last evening. Or maybe I guess Monday really is teaching the world what it could be like if it actually lived up to the labels the world generously and unabashedly bestows it with. I want my regular Monday back. With a poached egg on crispy butter toast, if possible.

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In the mean time, I’ll be tackling it with some red and some more conversations; this time about, erm…, Magic Mike (because I’m so early and SO unaware) or hot chocolate fudge; I can’t seem to decide.

Writing and a Cheese Omelette

28 Apr

I swear I haven’t seen the face of this portal since I last wrote. I don’t know if it was a conscious or unconscious choice. But I do know that I’ve this weird knack of absconding as and when and I don’t particularly enjoy maintaining that tag per se.

Do I write every day? No. Do I need to write every day? No. I mean, yes. Do I want to write every day? Yes. Is it easy to come up with or have a lineup of things to write about on a daily basis? You answer that for me. I’m sure my answer is below the pit of pits compared to yours. I assure you.

But does that still motivate me to write? Yes. Because I do know how I look at the world and how I see the world unfurl in front of me every single moment; in pictures, in stories, in a storyboard that makes sense to the way I think, perceive and live my life. Can I translate that with ease here? I think the evidence is answer enough. But I’d like to believe that I can try.

This weird amount of optimism and inspiration is not a one-off Monday shot of life’s dose that happened to me. Although it has been a different Monday because I haven’t felt as inspired in a very, very long time, that does not, of course, mean that I’m going to give you a Pulitzer-worthy piece of writing because I am the same old me who does have her rather non-flashy blog still in place, doing its own thing. I just know that a lot has to happen here and in order for that to happen, I need to instill a certain sense of structure and discipline. And that’s where the catch lies because I rather dislike adding the word ‘compulsion’ to anything I enjoy doing. Don’t most of us? Or am I the only odd one out here?

That apart, not that I’m laying down a red carpet of excuses to take control of my abysmal writing practice, there seriously is that long list of distractions that just makes it impossible to create a sense of continuity writing really requires. I thrive on alone time not because I’m an anti-social specimen (which I can be more often than not), but because I find that that best allows me to think and process my thoughts. Isn’t it most irritating to have your maid ring the bell just when you’re trying to put things together, and then have her hover all around (even while she really is doing her own thing)? I hate it. I hate not having a designated space to write because I think that is imperative.

Of course, there are so many criteria that ought to be met for any creative process to take place and efficiently so. But I find some, if not most of them, as fleeting as can be. And therefore, it is difficult. I won’t deny having to keep my thoughts within and explore them later only to realize they’ve all dissipated and died. It is disheartening. But really, this isn’t a rant about how I have no space or how it is hard to find the space to do my own thing with whatever I may be blessed to have. Maybe I sound like a spoiled brat who wants it all. And yes, I do. Judge me. But that’s another story for another time and irrespective of whether that happens or not, I know I have to find a way. Therefore I don’t necessarily have to write every day but I do, because I believe writing; being a talent apart; needs to be inculcated, needs to be practiced. It is important to have that time, space and habit. That’s how I see it and that’s how I intend to keep it.

And so, in lieu of feeling pent up and being completely unable to write for xyz reasons, today was one of those days that, I think, the universe conspired to happen. Because I’m here, writing, despite having been steamrolled by Facebook, an alarmingly low spaced memory card on my phone which beeped red all over my face, my hunger, my forever hungry pigs, the strange summer heat which my body can tolerate but which my hormones are making sure I cannot, and being rung and intruded upon by my maid (who is quite sweet but whom I cannot like because of this sole reason. I’d really like my space, lady. Really!!). I’m trying. Who knows if I’ll disappear indefinitely after writing this post. But I prefer thinking about today. That’s been a top lesson this year. Think about today. Tomorrow is another day.

The blog also needs a revamp, I think. Maybe I will. But all the gosh darn awesome themes I like are beyond what I think I would like to pay for a blog theme, even if I was earning in USD. Bleargh. I’d really rather buy three fancy pairs of shoes with that amount. I’m not joking. But here’s what I did in the meantime.

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Am I on the right track to finding a new blog theme and doing up my blog and writing more often? I think so. I made myself an omelette. It was what made most sense in that moment when I was caught between writing about feeling inspired in general or between really, really feeling inspired while I wrote about feeling inspired. See? Also, I was feeling hungry. Or rather, I was feeling most hungry at that moment. So I had to break my thought flow and go make this very simple but totally gorgeous piece of art.

I love making art with my food. I think food is magic and the art that results from it, sublime. I do not have any other way of putting that across because that is how I feel about cooking and food. It makes me happy beyond belief. It’s that soul-satisfying moment that makes me believe in why I’m here and doing what I’m doing, which is actually confusing because I do not cook, do photography or write for a living. But yeah, you get what I’m talking about.

In keeping with feeling inspired, I decided to make this and enhance the experience + use it as a medium through which to further channel just how awesome I’m feeling. I’ve been listening to John Legend’s ‘All of Me’ (Tiesto’s remix) for a while now and the one line in it that hits the spot for me, after a slight edit is, “my head’s under water (inspiration) but I’m breathing fine…”. I’m not sure that made sense but that is exactly how I feel… that experience of feeling completely swallowed in, drowned and inundated in something so good that even though it’s so hard to breathe, you do it with so much ease… I guess they also call it feeling overwhelmed by something so good… you know?

So yes, please go make yourself an amazing cheese omelette and allow it to take you on a joyride to places your soul wants to go to because really, this dish has the strength to.

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I don’t know if you can feel my sense of positivism from this post. I’m telling you it’s part omelette, part this universe doing its thing. Look at that. Look at that hot mushy cheese sauce inside that custardy but cooked egg. Of course, if you aren’t a fan of runny eggs, please cook it through by all means. We’re all here to float (and soar), so please do what floats (or soars) your boat.

I wasn’t fond of and still can be iffy about runny eggs because a) I don’t like the smell of eggs (cue to laugh at me), b) I don’t like cold eggs and c) I always equate runny eggs with raw eggs meaning they stink. But that isn’t the case as much, today. Cook it as you wish and let the rest of it show you its magic. It’s that perfect snack to snarf down on any given evening and can be washed down with anything chilled considering it’s summer. My poison of choice was cocoa milk today because I had to get dairy and eggs into my diet for the day and I hadn’t. Yes, I do eat. No, I don’t diet = I do not not eat what is meant to be eaten to stay alive, healthy and amazingly insane.

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I added cheese if I haven’t already mentioned that (am I supposed to erm, feel guilty?). And for that extra bite, I added a few jalapenos slices but not too much because I don’t like them overpowering the flavour of my dish. And seasoning, of course. Plus I cooked it just enough so that the inside could hold minus running helter-skelter (pun intended) but was loose enough to be held together by that gorgeous melted cheese inside. Therefore it wasn’t uncooked or raw, didn’t stink of egg and didn’t make me feel icky + was perfectly brown.

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Give it a try sometime. Add whatever fancies your heart and soul because soul food deserves all that and more. I was too lazy to thaw meat and wanted to keep it light enough for an evening snack. It sure lifted my spirits further this evening and helped me power through all these gnatty obstacles to come here and write, ever so randomly about life, writing and erm, eggs. Miracles can happen. And for good measure, here’s what it looked like on my plate, once again.

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More power to you! And if you’re a complete vegetarian, well, lots more power to you, always! :)

Thank you for listening. See you soon, fingers crossed.

Monday

24 Mar

There’s this month called March we all know too well. It really bodes nothing much to so, so many people because it’s just another month in this dozen bunch we’re blessed to see year after year. It could be a special month for those who have special occasions to celebrate during it. But that apart, it’s quite the whirlwind for every single other person on the planet who juggles numbers, at any level. Don’t you think? It’s a crazy, crazy month. It’s the month where you often forget what the difference between a weekend and a weekday really is. And it’s safe to say that that time of the year has well and truly arrived.

I don’t think that trend will ever, ever change. Here I am, post my work day, taking a short break, having consumed copious amounts of tea I wouldn’t even dare down on a weekend. I thought I’d write to you at the cost of staring at my laptop screen, but I’ll see what I can manage to squeeze out before I get back to more work.

I love being busy. Like I’ve mentioned before, being busy gives me that sure-shot green signal I need to escape, to floor that accelerator and vanish. It’s just me cruising or speeding down that road, all by myself, with that rush of adrenaline or whatever else it is that gives us the high of keeping up with work and getting ahead of it. I’m not sure about the getting ahead bit yet considering there’s an entire week before the month and quarter come to an end.

It’s a busy time. It always has been. That’s something I dread and look forward to. It’s that kick I get in knowing I’m working on the businesses I need to work on and give them advertisers exactly what they want. It’s that satisfaction knowing we succeeded, as a team. It’s the high knowing you’ve brought that dough home. But it’s also that nagging pain in the ass that lingers and reminds you just how slow time can really pace at. March has been like that. At least March 2014 has. It.just.doesn’t.seem.to.get.over.

So while there’s work and so much of it, I’m back from office, taking that break I was talking about before I deep-dive right in again. And here’s why I’m here; to share just ow I’m savouring this break of mine, savouring being the word in focus here.

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Isn’t it lovely when you really get to make the most of what you’ve got and feel the satisfaction of knowing you’ve done so? Here’s how I’m spending my break – drinking chai, having crispy toasts with butter and writing. And there’s music as well. It hits the spot. Today. It fits. It’s perfect for this moment. And I’ll take that, because I’m here, making the most of what I have. My manic Monday has given me a spot to take out my umbrella and sort of beach-bum till it’s time to get back. Except, if I were really at a beach, it wouldn’t be called tea time. :)

There’s so much to talk about the passed weekend and I sincerely hope I find the time to write about it because there are some interesting things to share with you. In the meantime, I do hope you’re having a not so manic Monday. If you are, I’m sure your beach-bum time’s around the corner too.

Here’s powering the last of Maddening March through. Cheers!