exquisitely_moi

I am quite sure nobody visits here anymore, but FYI for those old friends who might stumble past, I intend to maintain two blogs hereon. This one here on LJ will continue to be a private/public diary of sorts - allowing for some private ruminations which might never be published and public posts on just me, me and me. Expect much inanity and self-indulgence but if you are a friend who wants to know how I have been 'feeling', this is the place.

The other blog I hope to be more regular on, than I have been so far, is this one here - it was inevitable that I moved to Wordpress, I love the UI to death and really appreciate how much easier they make it to analyse meta data about readership. This is where I hope to record my opinions/thoughts on ideas/concepts/the world at large in a slightly more sane, grown-up manner - less of the 'oh why is the world so mean to me' angst  and more of the stuff that might constitute an intelligent discussion. This blog is also where I plan to start putting up stuff on travels, reviews, etc.

For those who want to give up on my far and few in between posts, I am much more visible and regular on Twitter.

I would like to maintain my LJ as a less public space and if I feel like too many people are googling it up and visiting here, I might consider making it password protected, with access granted to people I know.

Ok, I know this is completely out of the blue, considering I have not updated my blog in God-knows-how-long and much, seriously, MUCH has transpired between then and now - thankfully, all in a good way :)

But here's what has irked me a fair bit over the past couple of days:

I get in touch with someone or the other I haven't met in a few weeks and tell them over email/text - dude, we should meet up sometime, I have updates, interesting things to come, very excited!

And, invariably, the reply would be - 'Oh, are you getting married?' or 'Are you pregnant?' (Remember I live in a society where the two can come in either order and it's still considered good news :P).

No, seriously, a girl at this age cannot have any either aspirations right? Given that she is defined only by her uterus and her marital status, how on earth could anything else be good news? What else could possibly qualify as 'exciting, interesting and something to talk about'?

Morons. All those who know me closely know that I am not a militant feminist - I do not rail on and on about how men and women should be seen as exactly the same, because they are not, in my opinion. I am a humanist - I ask only that each individual, whether a man or a woman, be respected and accorded his or her rights. I am certainly not a fan of the 'All men are bastards' brigade. But this is something else.

Excuse me, dear friends (male & female), who reduce the worth of a woman to her marital status and please take note that I do have a functioning brain, apart from my other bits of anatomy which define feminity, and I do like to use it on a regular basis - which is more than what can be said for most of you.

As for what the good news is, that is coming up in a separate post, only because I do not want the unbridled mirth defiled by this infuriating and recurring incident.

My moodswings are now legendary among those who know me very well. I swing from extremes of loving the whole wide world unto death to utter depths of despise for all and sundry, particularly (and unfairly) those who dare to extend a positive thought to me, which I could very well twist into some diabolical interpretation. After a long time of feeling either very negative about everything or just plain numb, the past few weeks from early June have been oozing with such gooey positivity and high-buzz energy; so much so that the negative-me would find the positive-me very grating on the nerves :D

But I shit you not, my summer-induced joy is now reaching levels of deliriium - I walk with a dreamy, glassy look while relishing the warmth of the sun and a definite spring in my step. My stamina levels have been super-human. When this phase of hyperactive joy started, I wished I could record every moment of it, journal it, photograph it and preserve this lightness of being so that when I go back into the blackness of hopeless despair, as I am bound to, I can look back at such memoirs and souvenirs and remind myself that I am not a fundamentally unhappy person.

But days passed and then weeks and it was hard to sit down and capture the various shades of happy, the kind of 'happy' which is not Disneyland-ish, alcohol-induced or layered on to hide a deeper unhappiness. Always a fan of serendipity, moving to Central London allowed for a lot more of it. Always seeking to do more, feel more and discover more, I found respite in my new job which allows for more decent hours (Job continues to suck, same shit, different company, but it bothers me less right now, for there are plans brewing * wink *). The number of people I have met and befriended over the past two months has surpassed those in the past two years combined.

A happy Sherene is also an attractive Sherene, apparently, as the past couple of months have shown - pity I can't do anything about it though ;) But what I can do safely is make friends. I have made friends in lifts going down four storeys, met people off Twitter, gotten back into startup and entrepreneurship circles, watched lovely theatre, reconnected with old friends visiting town, caught up with my closest friends and family in India & Singapore, laughed a lot, learnt a lot, ran the London 10k & the Great City Race of 5k, got highlights in my hair, shopped (!), ate lovely food, danced, watched an Oasis concert while they were still Oasis, invested an IMMENSE amount of emotional energy into a LOT of people without feeling drained and taken some bad news without feeling very bogged down by it. Most importantly, I have fallen in love with London irrevocably. So truly, madly and deeply in love that the thought of leaving someday fills me with the kind of dread my heart can't accommodate right now.

The net result of it is that I have been doing less of needless fretting about where my life is headed and letting things be. And  you know how sometimes just relaxing can open up new doors of thought. And, just like that, I am starting to see some possibilities. No, scratch that. My problem has never been with seeing possibilities. My problem has been with implementing them. And I can see some concrete steps to implementation and hoping that they work out. Fingers crossed.

Meanwhile, I might come back and type up about individual events and people, because heart-warming moments are well worth talking about. And this blog does not only have to be a chronicle of my misery :) It is a rare place I am in, where I am very happy with where I am, not looking to travel just to go away and take a break, and, yet, seeing wonderful plans in places anew and afar - touchwood.

Honestly, who falls for stuff like this? If they do, they probably deserve what they have coming!

Dear Partner,
I need your urgent assistance in transferring the sum of($15)million to your account within 10 banking days.Upon receipt of your reply,I will give you full details on how the business will be executed and also note that you will have 40% of the above mentioned while 50% will be me, and  other 10% will be theexpences occur in this transaction,I am expecting your urgent
ALHAJI ABUBAKARI

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I know I've been MIA forever, things've been manic and I have much to say. I'll be back, I promise. Muaxx

Those who dislike mathematics may leave now. I just found this fabulous song, very belatedly, by the Klein Four Group of Northwestern U math department, and I can't stop playing it over and over again :D I LOVE IT! The song is here on Youtube and the lyrics are below. Enjoy.

Edit: I bought the CD. I'm hopelessly in love with this wonderful marriage of mathematics and music.

-----------------

Finite Simple Group (of Order Two)
The Klein Four Group

The path of love is never smooth
But mine's continuous for you
You're the upper bound in the chains of my heart
You're my Axiom of Choice, you know it's true

But lately our relation's not so well-defined
And I just can't function without you
I'll prove my proposition and I'm sure you'll find
We're a finite simple group of order two

I'm losing my identity
I'm getting tensor every day
And without loss of generality
I will assume that you feel the same way

Since every time I see you, you just quotient out
The faithful image that I map into
But when we're one-to-one you'll see what I'm about
'Cause we're a finite simple group of order two

Our equivalence was stable,
A principal love bundle sitting deep inside
But then you drove a wedge between our two-forms
Now everything is so complexified

When we first met, we simply connected
My heart was open but too dense
Our system was already directed
To have a finite limit, in some sense

I'm living in the kernel of a rank-one map
From my domain, its image looks so blue,
'Cause all I see are zeroes, it's a cruel trap
But we're a finite simple group of order two

I'm not the smoothest operator in my class,
But we're a mirror pair, me and you,
So let's apply forgetful functors to the past
And be a finite simple group, a finite simple group,
Let's be a finite simple group of order two
(Oughter: "Why not three?")

I've proved my proposition now, as you can see,
So let's both be associative and free
And by corollary, this shows you and I to be
Purely inseparable. Q. E. D

I haven't really ever found a place that I call home
I never stick around quite long enough to make it
I apologize that once again I'm not in love
But it's not as if I mind
that your heart ain't exactly breaking

It's just a thought, only a thought

But if my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cos nothing I have is truly mine

I've always thought
that I would love to live by the sea
To travel the world alone
and live my life more simply
I have no idea what's happened to that dream
Cos there's really nothing left here to stop me

It's just a thought, only a thought

But if my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cos nothing I have is truly mine

While my heart is a shield and I won't let it down
While I am so afraid to fail so I won't even try
Well how can I say I'm alive

If my life is for rent...

-----

The recent past was been a time of some important personal milestones but I haven't had time to stop, breathe and take stock. One of the most significant one for myself was turning 25. I don't like calling this quarter life, because it's presumptuous to assume one is going to live to be 100, but even so, it's hard to comment on a quarter of a century's worth of one's own life. It's overwhelming, and in my case, more than a tad disappointing - such are the consequences of having grand visions as a youngster, that not reaching them by 25 involves much anguish and tears and tearing of hair.

My birthday celebration was a non-affair - it was on a Tuesday, in the midst of some very important deadlines and personal & professional decision-making and I hoped it would go away unacknowledged so I would not have to deliberate on the nothingness I have evolved into after so many years of meandering and dithering about my destination. But there was some sort of a token nod of the head and we have moved on since, much the wiser for the need for a life-goal and growing up.

That said, it's easier to mull over shorter term milestones, such as the fact that, as of Friday, it has been exactly one year to the day since I landed in London - so what's the big deal, you ask? Well, apart from the fact that it's a definitive new chapter to my life thus far, the very phenomenon of it working out gave me great faith in serendipity - indeed, if you want something really really badly, the universe will conspire to make it happen. Yes, I have been accused of foolish optimism in the past but one hopes that there's some reason to have faith.

So what sort of a year has it been? Let's say a necessary side-effect of being foolishly optimistic is that one has a tendency for making grandiose plans which are inevitably thwarted by real life and there ensues immense sorrow, as a result. Which was the case with me. But one must take things in stride and trigger backup plans and look at the brighter side of things. And I must admit, I am needlessly harsh on myself sometimes - much has also been achieved in the mere year that I have been here and to discount that is being unfair on myself - theatre, writing, philanthropy, diversity & inclusion, travel, academic pursuits, friendships, reunions, memories, culinary delights, and so much more. Yes, it has been an intense year and most defining. I have evolved into more of a person I have wanted to be, even though it was certainly not an easy transition at all. My self-reliance and individuality have been heightened to the point that, I am not sure if I am proud to say it but it's true, I now shun the need to surround myself with just about anyone and their miserable existence - I have become highly selective.

Yesterday, as I embarked on my next wave of house-hunting in London, I had a very Londonesque day. I met a stranger who had posted a room-for-rent ad, this German girl who's moving back after two and a half years here. After the requisite house-viewing and walking back to the station, we ended up striking such an interesting conversation that we stopped by a coffee place (where we bought coffee on credit, I kid you not) and expressed general weltscmerz and discussed at great length the way the world has come to be what it is and where it might have gone wrong. We discussed social benefits in Asia, continental Europe and in the UK, changing value systems, professional goals, relationships and more. And then we parted ways and that was that. No expectations of making it mean anything more than what it was - a couple of people sharing thoughts and opinions without reservation. I like this freedom in this city, feeling unshackled from the burden of memories and social obligations I am wont to find myself tangled in, after a few years in the same place. Most of all, I love the diversity of the experiences that London has to offer and that I can dive into them wholeheartedly on my own.

And today, I went hiking from Henley on Thames to Pangbourne, an 18.5km walk across the English countryside, with many interesting sights and pitstops - fields, churches, pubs, mill hills, small villages and a vineyard. A whimsical decision to join my Aussie friend's all-day plan turned out to be a great thing - 14 of us from nine countries and a large range of experiences than I would have initially expected. Much laughter and conversation ensued, as we huffed and puffed our way through some of the most beautiful natural settings I have laid eyes upon in a while. The lush greens, the fresh air, the quiet of the countryside were all a welcome change from the urban madness we have got ourselves used to here. And so was the pub food after all that walking, which left us thoroughly famished!

And now, as my muscles ache from the exhaustion and my heart aches at the thought of how little has been achieved in my 25 years, here's wishing myself another fabulous year of my life in London, with more memories, experiences, travel, friendships and learning than I can fathom now, even if it comes at the cost of a lot of hard work (oh, there seem to be prospects for a LOT of hardwork this year!). But I hope that by the end of this year of my life, I can report some significant progress on some of my goals.

But if my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cos nothing I have is truly mine

A big part of said goals is committing myself to some really tough deadlines and ambitious plans. Otherwise, truly, I deserve nothing more than I get. Cheers to grand plans :)

Lazy Saturdays, punctuated by phone calls,
Tossing together some noodles and baking some meat.
Savouring the brunch in the bright sunshiney morning, with a side of
Candid conversations over steaming mugs of coffee.
Munching on bumpy blackberries,
While vainly trying to cram about tongue-twisters
Such as heteroskedasticity and autoregressive correlations.
I think of the busy weeks and months past,
And all that I have to tell you.
Oh, I do have so much to tell you.
But for now, this lazy day,
As I guiltily steal some time from my manic days
To catch my breath and the sun in the unmowed backyard,
Please read, all that you must, into my silence.

I'm normally among the first few waves of people to catch on to technologies and trends for lay people and then get so much into it that I might start evangelizing them to non-believers. Blogging, Facebook, Billmonk, Google Docs, etc, have been part of that list. And so was Twitter - I signed up early but got tweeting on it much later, but fairly early on among my friend circles. But I still can't help but find myself thinking, at times, that it is nothing more than a grand dumbing-down exercise for a generation already thoroughly stupefied with SMS-speak and ever-shortening attention spans.

This video hilariously captures those momentary feelings I have about Twitter. Meanwhile, you will find me continuing to "tweet", if nothing else, for the fact that it's a great arena for showcasing one's self-obsession :P

On a more serious note, though, here's a well-written article on 'The End of Solitude', pondering over the implication of this excessive need to be "ubiquitously connected" and what it means for one's inner voice and sense of self. Is the human race losing the ability to allow thoughts to ferment and develop of their own accord, without this annoying need to broadcast every single turn of the mind? Can we not modulate and direct our own ideas without the constant feedback channel of our blog readers' comments, twitter followers and FB social network? While it's great that technology enables communication and connections, should we allow technology to define the 'self' as a manifestation of what we mean to our respective audiences?

What keeps me busy lately, you ask? SO much, these days, to be honest. My life here has become a whirlwind of activity and socializing - really, has it been only 10 months since I landed here? :)

So where were we the last time we met? Ah yes, the MD dinner. I picked that over my class that evening and glad I did :) The MD's background is kick-ass - start-up experience, small-firm experience, being confused in life - she dunnit all and how she well she did along the way! Loved her quirky sense of humour and go-go spirit - I want to be her after 23 years of work life!

Apart from that, there've been various other company events, including one where I met the only female member of the Board of Directors of my company. The concrete tips she passed on, I must keep in mind. Inspirational stuff. Have already found a couple of avenues to implement some tips.

Oh, and then there was the totally whacked day out in London - a get-together orchestrated by yours truly with a random bunch of people meeting up for a most scrumptious meal at the much-talked about and deservedly so, Tayyabs. After three hours of incessant eating, laughing, talking and shouting down people across the table (what a boisterous bunch we were!), the motley bunch moved on to Brick Lane where some masala chai and jalebis were had. Post-chai, many in the group felt their energy sapping and bid goodbye while three of us moved onto coffee at Liverpool Street to recharge our resilient selves and then onwards ho to Long Acre at Leicester Square where we ordered 3 bottles of wine amongst three of us as we sat for hours in that little confessional-like alcove and poured out more secrets than should be revealed in just one evening! Then, some dancing and moving onto foiled plans of clubbing in Soho due to ID checks and general drunkenness. Cab ride to West London, nightcap drinks at Latimer Rd, some throwing up (not me) and random chit-chat, followed by crashing at 5am, only to wake up, breakfast, head back and prepare for coffee at Baker Street and a light dinner at the very chic Aubaine at South Kensington with my friend from Copenhagen and his Egyptian Islamic Investment Banker friend and Syrian businessman friend. Learnt SO much about Islamic Banking, Syrian-US relations, Syrian-Lebanese cuisine, the history in the region, the effect of the credit crunch on oil producing countries and so much more. Fruitful weekend that.

Following weekend brought the much anticipated Literary Weekend @ LSE and what a mindblowing experience! Hope to make a separate post out of that weekend but to point out highlights - panel discussion on Religious Defamation, session on Political Satire, roundtable discussion on Migrant Literature (hotness, Mustafa Kor, the Turkish-origin Belgian author, is), Ben Okri's readings and interview and oh so much more. Met some people and dined with them and had some mutual brain-picking - fun, fun. Might I have found a circle to be all high-brow and intellectual with? :D

The following weekend constituted of drinks at 'The Return of the Romanian', an ex-colleague visiting us from France, and clubbing with a massive bunch of desi-origin Kiwis - we're everywhere, aren't we? And this night of clubbing was followed by a very bone-headed decision to make my way back home by bus on my own via the dodgiest of East London spots, getting stranded mid-way by the bus thanks to some dude shattering the glass door of the bus, walking half an hour through hoods which invite mugging and knife-crime and what not. I thank my lucky stars that I am not here narrating some horrid experience I had to face that night!

Somewhere along the way, I started on my weekly lunch-hour volunteering organized by my company at the local primary school (I hereby pledge to bolster the math skills of the kids I am in charge of! ), resumed squash, kept up with my writing lessons, managed to drag my lazy self to the gym about once a week for a run and attended a very educational session organized by the women's network in my company about education of females in Africa, a cause I might be interested in investing some time and energy into. At some point in the near future, volunteering at the Globe shall resume too.

I have finally woken up to the realization that some serious studying awaits my attention - my insouciance in this regard is disturbing really. This weekend, I've finally bolted myself in the house with hopes of cramming but the lack of productivity due to a permanent state of distraction is starting to get annoying, to be honest. But, of great preoccupation to me lately, are two matters - the impending change in immigration law in the UK which could be something that I could live to greatly despise, depending on what transpires in the months to come and the other is some excellent news I received last night - I will be attending the 39th St. Gallen Symposium in Switzerland - an encore to my 2007 experience except that this one is being held during unprecedented global affairs which I am deeply mired in, in ways I would possibly not want to be.

Last, and most importantly, Ritwik's here from next week! One hopes that the much-anticipated Istanbul trip does not have to be cancelled * fingers crossed *

Yesterday, I had a very enjoyable lunch with the CEO UK of my company and after the lunch, while discussing the lunch with my boss, I found out that the said CEO and his family are members of the English royalty and very influential figures in the British economy. Fascinating stuff, especially given how approachable and warm he was and how very humble he seemed about his own past. It restores faith in my belief that those on the top in my very European-cultured bank are not necessarily pompous bastards (unlike in those American banks, I have much disdain for you, Thain. And, if you've heard of my encounter with Lord Griffith, you'd know that I'm not a big fan. Pfft)

Ooh, and I am scheduled for a very exclusive dinner with one of the top female MDs in the industry on Monday evening, which clashes with my writing class :( I need two of me - I'm double-booked, AGAIN! I've met the lady before and I find her very charming. The part-Italian, who grow up in NYC, exudes energy with her constant banter and easygoing laughter.

Last weekend at Glasgow was lovely with the girls on Valentine's - much girly fun was had. And gosh, how straight my hair was after all that styling (expect a hair post to come up soon). I look forward to a very packed weekend of catching up with people who've been out of town for a few weeks, to hosting a Danish visitor, to settling down a junior moving from NYC and generally enjoying London for a bit.

Shoutouts to any London readers who might be lurking - I'll be going to the 'Picasso: Challenging the Past' at the National Gallery, been watching out for it. My company's sponsoring NG for the next three years so all paid exhibitions are free for me and a guest - let me know! Hmm, should I bother going to the Sisley exhibition before it goes out? Not sure.

Also, more importantly, I will be attending various events at the LSE Literary Weekend next weekend, anybody else who's going or who has friends who might be going? Would enjoy some company :) Many of the workshops/panel discussions discuss writing in a socio-political context, an area which I am thoroughly interested in. Ah, since we are on the topic of London, any of you members of the National Theatre or the Royal Opera Hall - want tips on whether membership is worth it. Oooh, I'm signing up again as a volunteer at the Shakespeare Globe Theatre this summer - can't wait!

Back to work for me. After I got in pretty late after a harrowing morning this morning applying for my visa at the Turkish embassy. No, there's never such a thing as an uneventful visa process in my life, thank you for asking. Stern note to self: Carry oodles of cash to any embassy when applying for visa. No, don't take them seriously when they say visa fees amount to a mere 5 quid. Liars, all bloody liars. And what an idiot I proved to be this morning =/ Gah. Running on 4 hours of sleep - need to stop wasting time on FB/Twitter/random blogs, etc!

Is there anyone else out there who has ever been afflicted with the busy-bee syndrome? Someone who has a compulsive need to have a packed calendar, possibly even have themselves double-booked and triple-booked before he or she feels a sense of calm and everything being just perfect?
 
If this compulsion were related purely to work, one would be called a workaholic but when it spills on to one's personal life too, what do you call it?

Ooh, the joy of 'good busy' days :) Never enough time and far too little sleep, but not too many wasted minutes - yay!

There has been this immensely popular 'tag'/meme going around on FB, '25 Random Things About Me' - people list what they believe to be unique traits and quirks about themselves. After a few instances of getting tagged to write one up myself, I just feel something along the lines of 'meh', which is surprising, because I used to be one of those who'd sign up first on anything that required expounding upon oneself.

Firstly, I didn't think all of my 950-odd friends/acquaintances/people I just about know needed to know 25 random things about me - it's bad enough that they have to suffer my inane, mundane status updates, and to foist upon them this too? Naah. Also, since not all of these people are exactly 'close' friends, I would have to write this out with the lowest common denominator in mind, which would make for a boring read indeed - because these would be 25 really random shite that signifies nothing of personal quality in them (I like this colour, I used to live here/there, I am afraid of... - who cares, really). For instance, I would write about my absolute intolerance for those who like to assume higher moral ground for being vegetarian and/or infringing on my right to eat meat. Or I would write about how I can be infinitely finicky about dish-washing, I'd rather you leave it unwashed for me to take care of them, unless you can scrub it squeaky clean and wash the undersides too. But really, who cares, unless you live with me and wash dishes in my kitchen or you impose your vegetarianism on me, and if so, you'd already know this and the entire FB exercise is pointless, no? 

For those who care, there's this blog, which I write for my own record and for which I don't expect to have an audience (which is why I'm always surprised to find out that people do read this!). Moreover, reading more and more of these '25 Things' about people I know has only strengthened this feeling I've been having lately that the world is full of supremely uninteresting people, self-involved in their own little universes, where each one gets to be the hero/heroine of their respective life story while chasing their own set of mediocre life goals. And then it saddens me to realize, yet again, that I am one of them too, a supremely uninteresting, unaccomplished blob on the face of the earth, yet another stat in the billions who have come and the many more to come, having done nothing that will change the course of humanity in many manner, whatsoever. Facebook, photographs, personal memoirs, blogs - these are just manifestations of the famous line, "You are unique and special, just like everyone else."

Finally, whenever I did think of getting down to write it out (and to stop taking everything so seriously), I could not get myself to do it. Recently, I've been watching a lot of biopics and I'm in the process of picking up a bunch of biographies of historical personalities I admire. Increasingly, I am of the conviction that all of this writing out of trivia about oneself is meaningless in the long run - what matters more is what people write of you and make of you, after your time. It all eventually boils down to the struggle to leave a legacy, to make a dent, an indelible mark on the time-line of human advancement - doesn't it?

Is this a precursor to winding down this blog? To making less public my private ruminations? Is it even possible that a certain unthinkable might happen - Sherene choosing to fall off her fairly-public grid? Who knows. But I certainly hope it's a precursor to the fabulous, meaningful life I always thought my future held.

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It's amazing, the transformation from a person who found everybody so fascinating and saw every random person as a possibility for new discoveries, new memories and new friendships, to this people-loathing, contemptuous new me.

I miss the old me, sometimes =/

Recently, I was having a conversation with a friend in Singapore and ruminating over how dramatically my life had changed, mostly for the better, in the space of a mere year. It was exactly a year ago when I had stumbled upon an opportunity I would never have imagined and changed the direction in which my life seemed to be heading. Indeed, when it rains, it pours and I had two fabulous options to choose from, both with their own set of pros and cons. The months of depression leading up to those moments seemed all worthwhile. Then there was the 3 months of paperwork, realization of the enormity of the decision and the move. And then I seemed to promptly hit my lows again. My pay cheque was (and continues to be) outrageously low, the cost of living in London outrageously expensive and my boss and I hated each other's guts. My life seemed to amount to nothing and I could not stop harbouring thoughts of having traded the company of a fab set of friends for something that refused to come to fruition.

I am loathe to admit it, for fear of it slipping away, but I think I have finally moved on from my lows and I, um, might even go as far as saying, I've been consistently happy for a few weeks in a row now. This, in spite of said stealing of handbag and a subsequent loss of more cash since that and what not. Yes, this year has been brutal, financial speaking. And yet, I have resumed running (which I suspect is the root cause for all this sickening positivity), I don't moan about my mad hours at work because I love my team (yes, it's possible to love the team, even in the bitchy, corporate world that an investment bank is) - sometimes, a downturn in the economy can bring people close like that and I am working harder than ever and learning a lot in the process. A recent wardrobe revamp has left me feeling pleased and is another cause for this general upliftment of dispositions.

I am finally making good use of my Cineworld Unlimited card and catching films after long hours at work and falling in love with larger-than-life figures - Che, Milk, etc (biopics galore!). Having the alone time to read news regularly and opinionate about them, I constantly feel the pulse of politics and economics as the world unfolds to make history in our lifetime - Obama, financial meltdown, Gaza, etc. I love my writing classes and my starting-to-slowly-burgeon social calendar. I look forward with great anticipation to signing up for volunteering at the new season at Shakespeare's Globe and all the travel coming up ahead in the coming months. My reading list is expanding by the day and I can't wait to tick books off in the list in the weeks and months to come. I cook Thai, Chinese, Indian and Italian with an ease I enjoy and like to experiment with cross-cultural flavours.

At some point, I want to start going to ballet classes in gym, resume my squash lessons, start off a short-term drawing lesson at Slade School of Art and resume French lessons where they don't ask me to pay through my nose.

I am still not entirely happy with where I am, but from where I was a year ago, I feel I'm heading more in the direction I always wanted to. More importantly, I am focusing more on the concrete things I can control to make my dreams a reality, rather than pine for an end-state which might seem unattainable. I reminisce less about my days and friends in Singapore and plan more around my life in London. I am proud of having taken the leap of faith and expanding my world, in spite of how difficult it was for me personally. I'm now a calmer and less bitter person than I was a few months ago. I am focusing less on the fact that I'm being severely underpaid and more on the possibilities after this mind-boggling crisis.

Why am I bothering to write all this out today? Because, I normally bother blogging only when I'm at my lowest, which makes my blog persona seem ever so angsty and pessimistic. And tomorrow, the results come out, so I might lose grip of this feel-good mood and might need to remind myself how to pick things up again.

Edit - I passed, I passed, I passed :D :D :D Onwards ho to the next level, what a nerd I am, indeed! And because it's only human nature to wish and want for more, even in the happiest of states, God, please let things be good for Ritwik too * fingers crossed *

Five years ago, back when I was still a very poor, almost perpertually broke high school student in Singapore on a measly scholarship that seemed sufficient to keep me happy (surprisingly, in retrospect), I used to make light of having a financial safety net. I would make merry at the beginning of the term when our bank balances were flush with freshly-deposited scholarship stipends, and scrounge for the very last cent towards the end of the semester. I remember mindless shopping and eating out in one month followed by, three months later, budgeting 50 cents to lunch, especially after I had put down a hefty 700 dollars or so for my trip home to India. I was too haughty even then to ask for money from home - I treasured my financial independence far too much (yes, some things do not change). It was my badge of pride, to have grown up to be self-reliant very early, unlike all my friends back in India.

There was this one trip, when I had to fly Thai Air to Delhi, with a long transit in Bangkok, when I was properly broke like never before or after. This was back when I carried no credit cards on me, not even a supplementary one from parents, and my ATM card did not function as a debit card. Not like my bank account had much anyway, five dollars something, I think - and you couldn't withdraw any amount less than ten. So I spent the last twenty I had on me on the cab ride to the airport, folded up the two dollar note I received as change into my wallet, jingled the few coins in there and realized, in amusement, that I had no cash on me. Oops. And, with that momentary thought which bothered me in no manner, I proceeded to Bangkok, waited around for 5-6 hours and made it back home. When I narrated this story to my parents, they panicked - why didn't you tell us you had no money? You should not travel without access to funds, blah blah, blah and here's a supplementary card (as an aside, I never used that card except once to buy something for my parents and even then, I felt like I had to swallow my pride).

In retrospect, it amazes me that it didn't occur to me that I could have fallen asleep at Bangkok airport and might need to call home or reschedule flights or any such thing. I would have been stranded, with not enough cash on me to make even an international phone call, in a land where they speak a different language and where I did not have any local contacts. Maybe I was just young and foolish, or maybe I was too busy having fun to bother fretting so much. Anyhow, those were carefree, happy days, indeed.

Now, two days before my flight takes off to Copenhagen where I will be visiting a friend and very unlikely to be left alone anywhere, I have already spent hours worrying about my credit card which has arrived but which is still awaiting a PIN before it's fully functional. I have access to funds, but I moan about having to go to the bank to get it during office hours. Worst case scenario, I have a card from Singapore to fall back on and yet, the constant fretting in my head does not stop.

Hmm, so I guess being an adult is all about being a collection of imagined worries and learned prejudices... Oh, what I wouldn't give to be young and foolish again :)

Gotta love 'em :D Check this out.

...is a funny thing. You pine and pine for something that was part of a wonderful memory, and then in a brief window of time, you meet your previous life, with all its trimmings and whimsical details, and you have the opportunity to relive each one of those exhilirating moments of debauchery and impetuousness, to dive headlong into the sensory rushes and the mixed feelings afterwards... and then you realize that you don't really want it after all.

That's when you realize that, just because something seemed so perfect in retrospect need not be so well-fitting in the present. The memory of a good thing is but one part of you, and having the thing itself might be an incongruity in the time-space continuum, or, more realistically, in the process of growing up.

It does not connote that the thing is imperfect or wrong in any way, it just means that you have changed and grown far too much (not necessarily grown up, but still grown) to find pleasure in the same things.

This, my dear friends, is a sign of me moving on....about time too, might I say! I will always miss the part of me which lived for the moment and that alone, which has given way to one which plans and plots and frets. But I would like to think of it as more of a balance, where my in-the-moment part of me can be recalled in certain contexts.

Meanwhile, nostalgia, by definition, has its place in the past and that's where I intend to leave it.

Until quite recently, I used to believe that the first day of the year was a forerunner to the rest of the year and that the emotions in the first few hours a preview of all that lay ahead. Of course, I've learnt to give up such chronologically deterministic viewpoints and stashed it away in the same mental junkyard where the concept of new year resolutions rusts.

Which is a good thing. Because the new year, thus far, has been a fairly harrowing experience.

To start from the events that led up to the year 2009, three of us girls had been planning for a long while to head up to Edinburgh for the (in)famous Hogmanay celebrations which basically constitutes 4 days and nights of general revelry culminated by the most rowdy and drunken street party in the world - this last bit is what we wanted to be a part of. In spite of booking train tickets and event passes well in advance in late October, we never managed to sort out accommodation for one night because no place would accept anything less than 3 nights. After exhaustively calling the various B&Bs, youth hostels, hotels and guest houses, I got caught up in exam preparation matters and figured that if, nothing else, someone or the other in my circle of friends would have a place or a friend with a couch (or three) to offer in Edinburgh for one night. This false sense of bravado was probably to blame for the state we were in, homeless and stuck outside on the coldest NYE in over 15years. My network of nearly a 1000 friends on FB had failed me - not one person could work anything out for me - grr.

Meanwhile, Divya fell sick the day before we were due to leave and I finally managed to catch the fluey cold I'd gleefully avoided post-flu shot. Amidst doubts of the wisdom of freezing our butts off and falling sick on Edinburgh streets, we took off. We drank, we drank and then we drank some more. Brandy to aid the cold, tequila served free from the bar and beer to keep myself hydrated (ya, right), amongst other things. We mingled in the raucous celebration on the streets of Edinburgh, which was mercifully dry, albeit freezing, while catching whiffs of pot  (I managed to coax one drag out of a friendly bunch, yay) amongst the throngs of happily drunk people. Then started the long night of bar-hopping, club-bouncing, kebab/chip-shop lounging and what not, to keep the warmth-chain going till our train in the morning (had to reschedule the evening train to get the 1st train out in the morning, paid a small fortune for that). Somewhere along the way, I started sounding hoarse and manly and eventually lost my voice.

1st Jan, back in London, was a messy messy day, one which constituted far too much freezing at the train station, sleeplessness, vit C tablets, cough syrups, lozenges, exhaustion, headaches, snot, whooping coughs and, yes, voicelessness! There was also an unnecessary temper tantrum by a certain someone who added an unnecessarily poor after-taste to what had otherwise been a great trip, in spite of the falling sick and all that.

2nd Jan involved a comical day at work when I couldn't answer calls or speak up at meetings and had to pull off my entire workday with the aid of instant messages and emails! And this is me, taking a break and attempting to recover, for a change, over the weekend. This is in preparation for a busy day at work on Monday + my first Creative writing class on the same evening - I am admittedly very nervous!

Eeps, what a new year it has been thus far. I sure hope this does not augur more such days in the coming year. Back to gulping more concoctions to heal my thoroughly ravaged throat...


Update: Ok, as of now, I f-ing hate 2009 =( Went to a lovely Italian dinner with Divya and Mark and against better judgment (considering my voice and throat and all), I decided to join them for a few at this lovely neighbourhood bar. Three and a half hours and a few interesting people later, I was making a dash for the train so I could rush back home and call the various credit card companies to have the cards cancelled. Someone in the bar had bloody stolen my bag literally under our noses and while all the cards seem to have been cancelled in time, I am now going to live in perpetual fear of an identity theft, especially considering the important piece of ID in that bag included one with an impression of my finger print - the one detail that all authorities see as irrevocable!

A tad premature though it may be, to reminisce upon the year that has been, I foresee myself being thoroughly occupied closer to the very end of the year and the defining year that this year has been for me, exactly as I'd expected at the beginning of the year, it deserves a fitting closing address. It has been a long and mixed bag of a year, but a real milestone year in my life, so this post begs to be a long one.

Beyond the world of me, me and me, 2008 has been a historic year - the year Obama won, the event which culminated years of my obsession with this man, the year the economy went and stayed in a tizzy, the year when I was a passenger on the roller-coaster ride of banks collapsing, redundancies being announced and currencies plummeting. Asia thrived, the Chinese circus of Olympics was paraded amidst human right violations, the old world of the US and Europe suffered and then everything came down like a house of cards. Investment banking became unfashionable, Private Banking was the new in-thing and I walked against the trend, moving out of Asia and saying no to PB. And then I wonder why I wonder. Apathy to India and its politics turned soon into outrage and tears during the Mumbai attacks. Earthquake in China, fire and anti-homosexual reforms in California and averted tube strikes in London. First October snow in London in 74 years and heaviest rain in Chicago in 180 years - I lived through it all to tell the tale.

Getting back to my favourite topic, me, click below to run through the rest to the tune of Baz Luhrman's 'Wear Sunscreen'...


( The year that has been... )
 
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2008, for me, will be the year of my life where I took the biggest leap of faith, because I believed in more than what seemed apparent at the surface. I did this, in spite of a lot of foregone conveniences and clarity. The closest analogy I can draw is that at the beginning of the year, the film of my life had a Suraj Barjatya-film-like quality to it - bright colours, happy faces, richness and comforts, song, dance and games, all set in the ultra-clean, sterile backdrop if Singapore. As the year comes to a close, the film's starting to look more like one of those artsy productions - dimmer light, grittier settings, seemingly a lot more angst and silence and many unanswered questions, appositely set in grimy, chaotic, gray London. I've traded the simpler joys of the former film for the promise of intellectual engagement and a renewed sense of purpose that the latter film seems to bring. Pretentious much? :) Anyway, I'm as curious as anyone could be to see this story pans out...

Even today, seven months into my stay in London, there are times when I am caught unaware by the feeling, while I'm walking down the cobble-stoned streets or while gazing absent-mindedly into the historic architecture of the city, that OMG, I live in Europe! My Europhilic daydreams came true, and that what they say is right...when you really want something badly enough, the universe conspires to make it happen :)


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2009 looks to be the year where I'll solidify a lot of the processes I've kickstarted in 2008, a big part of which is making a few more life-changing decisions and move further away from the carefree adolescent existence I enjoyed back in Singapore. Some big decisions about career, further studies, investments, etc will need to be made but one thing that's for sure is that there'll be much travel, learning and opportunities to make many excellent memories.

I thought I'd augment this piece a bit further before the end of the year but ravaged now by a cold I caught while gallivanting in Paris over Xmas and preparing for a bitterly cold night of street-partying in Edinburgh, I sign off, until next year :)
Happy 2009, people!

Frustrated. Disillusioned. Disappointed. Scared. Bored. Gutless.

Lacking clarity. Craving focus. Needing a cause. Among so many. Settling. Compromising. Hedging. Playing safe.

Tick-tock, tick-tock. Wanting too much, but not wanting it enough? Unsettling.

Vicarious living, second-hand dreaming, fabricating the comfortable mesh of lies and deception to trap myself into. Failing to believe my own weak reasons. The grip of rationalization loosening over myself ever so slightly and pitching me into the unknown yet again, leaving me flailing my arms at all this emptiness that I am inextricably enveloped in. How much longer do I have to coax myself into being comfortably numb?

Time is ticking away. Everyone reminds me that, contrary to my idea of living every moment as if it's the last, life is not going to end tomorrow. I need to have patience, work my way to that place, step by step, little by little. But at the pace I'm going, I honestly think that I might reach my grave before I catch sight of anything meaningful. What do they know anyway? They're just 'being there', doing the right thing and saying the sensible words, sticking to the script. Can't fault them for that either.

Perhaps, this is as good as it gets?

No, I refuse to believe so. Even if I'm merely fighting myself here, fighting with the ghosts of my own mind, I shall keep fighting.

But what am I fighting for? :(