This blog barely has 10 posts. Those of you who have been reading, thank you.
I am not sure what I should say and how, so I will be brief, I won't be writing here anymore.
Thanks for your support etc. I am not good at saying byes/ see you arounds etc.
Best Wishes,
A.
Sunday 24 June 2007
Friday 15 June 2007
It's only in my head
There is something oddly satisfying and entertaining about talking rocket science over drinks on a Friday evening with colleagues, discussing everyone's projects and the conversation drifting towards the places the various people have lived in or where they would like to live in the future. My colleagues are a funny lot and I am now participating in the social evenings and weekends.
Saturday, a week ago dawned bright and sunny. The clear day was a direct sign from up above that I go get art supplies for my stay in London. As I made my way towards the art shop near the National Art Gallery, I came across the little lawn/garden/call it what you will at Leicester Square. Tunes of a very strange English country song filled the air drowning the loud buzz created by tourists and Londoners in the area. I couldn't help laughing out loud when I saw a few women and many five to seven year old kids (boys and girls) dressed up in elaborate satin dresses and dancing in the way the English country folk do and twirling around appreciating the warm summer day and spreading a cheerful vibe all around. That is something very London - using every patch of green grass available on sunny weekends for entertainment purposes. I didn't stay very long for I had places to go to.
The wonder and delight that fills me when I walk into an Art Shop is similar to that I feel when I stroll off the street into a bookshop. This is one of the few places where I want to touch the little bottles and tubes on the shelves, stroke the brushes, feel the different types of art paper available. Lock me in an art shop for a few days and I won't even notice that days would have flown by. Buying art supplies is serious business and must not be taken lightly. There are big decisions to be made about the type of paints and crayons and pencils you want. Buying watercolours is far from simple. Do I want them in little bottles or tubes? Or the little square pellets? Should I stick to what I am familiar with or try something new this time? Should I get the box of 12, 24 or 48? The biggest joy ofcourse was the fact that almost everything I wanted was less than half price!! Loaded with my art gear and a smile so sunny that the sun suffered an inferiority complex, I headed towards the Royal Festival Hall.
The Royal Festival Hall at the Southbank Centre is a big deal here. For the last few months, renovations were going on and it was finally ready again to greet people with a love for music and art in all forms. As a special treat, there were free events on for everyone all weekend - from choirs, gospel singers, one of Aakanksha's favourite artists, and also performers from all walks of entertainment, or jumps if you will. Ever seen Cirque du Soleil on tv of for real? There were two dancers on the pavement in front of the Southbank Centre who were dancing so beautifully and romantically, I was more than absolutely smittened. With perfect precision and coordination, the woman was raised into the air by the cable around her waist and swung with such grace and perfection that the world's royals would appear inelegant. But the real treat waited me on the Riverside Terrace.
Dave is very jealous that I was able to see Billy Bragg perform live. I had to pinch myself to confirm I was infact there and seeing him play. His music is something I will leave you to explore. But I couldn't help chuckling when he sang Ringo and was so delighted when he did sing Milkman of Human Kindness. He also sang quite a few songs from his busking days on the streets of London back in the 70s. What struck me most is his aura. He is just a good man. A very distinguished, funny, frank, kind, just nice gentleman. He even asked his mum to join him on stage and sing along with him. The man is 50, so his mum must be around 70 at least and used to be a teller at the Royal Festival Hall back in the 50s so it was a very special day for her. He played for an hour but it was enough to fill my heart with happiness as well as sorrow. I miss Dave. Lots. And standing there knowing how much Dave would have enjoyed the performance, my heart ached and missed the friend I love so very much. I am glad Billy didn't see my face for he would have been confused by the pursed lips, sad eyes that were fighting tears and nose that looked like it was trying to keep the tears from flowing (refer: Lorelei Gilmore's stereotypical I am about to burst into tears look).
On my way back, a surprise awaited me at Trafalgar Square. As I neared the place, I noticed a significant number of police vans and policemen and policewomen on the streets. I was a little worried when all of a sudden the police brought the traffic to a halt everywhere, all around the square and also blocked the way for pedestrians. A few seconds later I heard bells tinkling....cycle bells. It was the World Naked Bike Ride in London. The crowd went wild, whistling, laughing and chuckling. Aakanksha? She was just very surprised and tried to squint and figure out what the flags on the bike read. The idea folks is to commute on bicycles, rollerblades or skateboards as much as possible and not drive! Curb your urge to drive cars!
When I finally got home, I sat down for a date with my water colour pad and paints. I wish I had a camera to show you what the eyes saw and the heart felt that day.
Saturday, a week ago dawned bright and sunny. The clear day was a direct sign from up above that I go get art supplies for my stay in London. As I made my way towards the art shop near the National Art Gallery, I came across the little lawn/garden/call it what you will at Leicester Square. Tunes of a very strange English country song filled the air drowning the loud buzz created by tourists and Londoners in the area. I couldn't help laughing out loud when I saw a few women and many five to seven year old kids (boys and girls) dressed up in elaborate satin dresses and dancing in the way the English country folk do and twirling around appreciating the warm summer day and spreading a cheerful vibe all around. That is something very London - using every patch of green grass available on sunny weekends for entertainment purposes. I didn't stay very long for I had places to go to.
The wonder and delight that fills me when I walk into an Art Shop is similar to that I feel when I stroll off the street into a bookshop. This is one of the few places where I want to touch the little bottles and tubes on the shelves, stroke the brushes, feel the different types of art paper available. Lock me in an art shop for a few days and I won't even notice that days would have flown by. Buying art supplies is serious business and must not be taken lightly. There are big decisions to be made about the type of paints and crayons and pencils you want. Buying watercolours is far from simple. Do I want them in little bottles or tubes? Or the little square pellets? Should I stick to what I am familiar with or try something new this time? Should I get the box of 12, 24 or 48? The biggest joy ofcourse was the fact that almost everything I wanted was less than half price!! Loaded with my art gear and a smile so sunny that the sun suffered an inferiority complex, I headed towards the Royal Festival Hall.
The Royal Festival Hall at the Southbank Centre is a big deal here. For the last few months, renovations were going on and it was finally ready again to greet people with a love for music and art in all forms. As a special treat, there were free events on for everyone all weekend - from choirs, gospel singers, one of Aakanksha's favourite artists, and also performers from all walks of entertainment, or jumps if you will. Ever seen Cirque du Soleil on tv of for real? There were two dancers on the pavement in front of the Southbank Centre who were dancing so beautifully and romantically, I was more than absolutely smittened. With perfect precision and coordination, the woman was raised into the air by the cable around her waist and swung with such grace and perfection that the world's royals would appear inelegant. But the real treat waited me on the Riverside Terrace.
Dave is very jealous that I was able to see Billy Bragg perform live. I had to pinch myself to confirm I was infact there and seeing him play. His music is something I will leave you to explore. But I couldn't help chuckling when he sang Ringo and was so delighted when he did sing Milkman of Human Kindness. He also sang quite a few songs from his busking days on the streets of London back in the 70s. What struck me most is his aura. He is just a good man. A very distinguished, funny, frank, kind, just nice gentleman. He even asked his mum to join him on stage and sing along with him. The man is 50, so his mum must be around 70 at least and used to be a teller at the Royal Festival Hall back in the 50s so it was a very special day for her. He played for an hour but it was enough to fill my heart with happiness as well as sorrow. I miss Dave. Lots. And standing there knowing how much Dave would have enjoyed the performance, my heart ached and missed the friend I love so very much. I am glad Billy didn't see my face for he would have been confused by the pursed lips, sad eyes that were fighting tears and nose that looked like it was trying to keep the tears from flowing (refer: Lorelei Gilmore's stereotypical I am about to burst into tears look).
On my way back, a surprise awaited me at Trafalgar Square. As I neared the place, I noticed a significant number of police vans and policemen and policewomen on the streets. I was a little worried when all of a sudden the police brought the traffic to a halt everywhere, all around the square and also blocked the way for pedestrians. A few seconds later I heard bells tinkling....cycle bells. It was the World Naked Bike Ride in London. The crowd went wild, whistling, laughing and chuckling. Aakanksha? She was just very surprised and tried to squint and figure out what the flags on the bike read. The idea folks is to commute on bicycles, rollerblades or skateboards as much as possible and not drive! Curb your urge to drive cars!
When I finally got home, I sat down for a date with my water colour pad and paints. I wish I had a camera to show you what the eyes saw and the heart felt that day.
Sunday 10 June 2007
"Shiny happy people holding hands"
Listening to Shiny Happy People by R.E.M.
To do the last two weekends justice, this post would need photos but as I don't have a camera in London, my words will attempt convey what the eyes saw and what the heart felt.
Saturday (a week ago), dawned bright with the sun smiling down on Londoners and visitors. After a grilling gym workout, as I walked towards Hyde Park, I contacted a colleague to ask if he wanted to meet up that evening. He couldn't. But, he invited me to the barbeque he was going to that evening! The evening was fun, simple and interesting. With a French man, an Indian girl, three Slovakians, one Austrian and a Paraguayan (?), the conversation around the wooden bench in the lush green lawn at the student residences was bound to be fun. Ofcourse the Slovakian fellow hosting took great pleasure in picking on my 'vegetarianism'. Vegetarianism? Oi! I was born and brought up a Vegetarian - way before the word Vegetarianism was coined. The evening ended with thoughts of going on the Sunday the next week down to Kew Gardens for a picnic and a game of frisbee. (Note: I might join the Ultimate Frisbee club at uni!)
The next day (Sunday) had been dedicated to the sport of tennis. The flatmate and I headed of looking cooler in our tennis gear than chilled water with a slice of lemon in a tall glass on a hot summer day. Yes, I have gear too! I was not prepared at all for how the day would twist and turn. When I arrived in London, Hyde Park took my breath away. As I entered Regent's Park, I could not help marvelling that human hands along with a little help from nature had managed to create such a beautiful and thrilling place. In search of the tennis courts, we (slowly) walked past the lake which was full of birds and 'birdlings', past the boat paddlers, across little bridges over 'giggling' streams (not gurgling, but giggling), past the Weeping Willows that looked like they belonged there, past the people picnicking and playing sports, past the London zoo and the smell of animals and a braying donkey till we came to a stop at what looked like a festival in one area of the Park. Postponing the idea of a game of tennis, Chantal and I dumped our bags and raquets (not rackets) on the grass and just lay in the sun - watching the families milling around and listening to a band play Irish tap dancey tunes. Lunch and a quick browse through the different stalls offering fortune readings, marinated olives, tattooes , yoga lessons, exotic fabrics and GREEN CARS AND BIKES, we continued on our 'Hunt for The Tennis Court'. Little did I know that there was more in store for us. What I saw next reminded me of one of my favourite books of all time - The Secret Garden. Speaking like Ladies, we decided to do join each other for a 'round of the garden'. And finally, at the end we spotted what we had spent 4 hours looking for. The courts were fully booked, so we indulged in some ice cream to cool off again as we watched other players play. When we left and reached our park entry point, the map at the park entrance indicated(very subtly) that the tennis courts were a 10 minute walk on the anti-clockwise route. We were destined to have a lovely, relaxing , surprising day.
This weekend's surprises? All in good time!
To do the last two weekends justice, this post would need photos but as I don't have a camera in London, my words will attempt convey what the eyes saw and what the heart felt.
Saturday (a week ago), dawned bright with the sun smiling down on Londoners and visitors. After a grilling gym workout, as I walked towards Hyde Park, I contacted a colleague to ask if he wanted to meet up that evening. He couldn't. But, he invited me to the barbeque he was going to that evening! The evening was fun, simple and interesting. With a French man, an Indian girl, three Slovakians, one Austrian and a Paraguayan (?), the conversation around the wooden bench in the lush green lawn at the student residences was bound to be fun. Ofcourse the Slovakian fellow hosting took great pleasure in picking on my 'vegetarianism'. Vegetarianism? Oi! I was born and brought up a Vegetarian - way before the word Vegetarianism was coined. The evening ended with thoughts of going on the Sunday the next week down to Kew Gardens for a picnic and a game of frisbee. (Note: I might join the Ultimate Frisbee club at uni!)
The next day (Sunday) had been dedicated to the sport of tennis. The flatmate and I headed of looking cooler in our tennis gear than chilled water with a slice of lemon in a tall glass on a hot summer day. Yes, I have gear too! I was not prepared at all for how the day would twist and turn. When I arrived in London, Hyde Park took my breath away. As I entered Regent's Park, I could not help marvelling that human hands along with a little help from nature had managed to create such a beautiful and thrilling place. In search of the tennis courts, we (slowly) walked past the lake which was full of birds and 'birdlings', past the boat paddlers, across little bridges over 'giggling' streams (not gurgling, but giggling), past the Weeping Willows that looked like they belonged there, past the people picnicking and playing sports, past the London zoo and the smell of animals and a braying donkey till we came to a stop at what looked like a festival in one area of the Park. Postponing the idea of a game of tennis, Chantal and I dumped our bags and raquets (not rackets) on the grass and just lay in the sun - watching the families milling around and listening to a band play Irish tap dancey tunes. Lunch and a quick browse through the different stalls offering fortune readings, marinated olives, tattooes , yoga lessons, exotic fabrics and GREEN CARS AND BIKES, we continued on our 'Hunt for The Tennis Court'. Little did I know that there was more in store for us. What I saw next reminded me of one of my favourite books of all time - The Secret Garden. Speaking like Ladies, we decided to do join each other for a 'round of the garden'. And finally, at the end we spotted what we had spent 4 hours looking for. The courts were fully booked, so we indulged in some ice cream to cool off again as we watched other players play. When we left and reached our park entry point, the map at the park entrance indicated(very subtly) that the tennis courts were a 10 minute walk on the anti-clockwise route. We were destined to have a lovely, relaxing , surprising day.
This weekend's surprises? All in good time!
Friday 8 June 2007
Pain
I am reading quite a few books (medical and non-medical) on pain, back pain and specifically low back pain at the moment. They're far from boring. A few are actually quite entertaining.
Pain is a subjective feeling influenced greatly by personal opinion and our ability to withstand pain depends a lot on our mood, our personality and the circumstances in which pain occurs.
Aristotle said that we cannot learn without pain. The Dalai Lama (I am not sure which one) said that pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional.
My maternal grandfather passed away yesterday after suffering a brain haemorrhage the day before, a day after he decided to stubbornly ignore my grandmother's and aunt's ardent requests of not working in the garden under the hot Indian summer sun (43 degrees Celsius). He was 86. He had lived a very healthy life. It was sudden. It was quick. There was little pain and practically no suffering.
How do I feel about this? I am not really sure. I am okay. I am just fine. It was a lot harder for me when in December my paternal grandfather passed away. Was it because he had suffered for a very long time? Was it because he had been in pain for a very long time and I had seen him suffer for some extent? I am not sure. Right now, I am more concerned for my maternal grandmother.
Or can it be that I might have grown up a few more inches on the Emotions Scale in the last few months?
Pain is a subjective feeling influenced greatly by personal opinion and our ability to withstand pain depends a lot on our mood, our personality and the circumstances in which pain occurs.
Aristotle said that we cannot learn without pain. The Dalai Lama (I am not sure which one) said that pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional.
My maternal grandfather passed away yesterday after suffering a brain haemorrhage the day before, a day after he decided to stubbornly ignore my grandmother's and aunt's ardent requests of not working in the garden under the hot Indian summer sun (43 degrees Celsius). He was 86. He had lived a very healthy life. It was sudden. It was quick. There was little pain and practically no suffering.
How do I feel about this? I am not really sure. I am okay. I am just fine. It was a lot harder for me when in December my paternal grandfather passed away. Was it because he had suffered for a very long time? Was it because he had been in pain for a very long time and I had seen him suffer for some extent? I am not sure. Right now, I am more concerned for my maternal grandmother.
Or can it be that I might have grown up a few more inches on the Emotions Scale in the last few months?
Saturday 2 June 2007
Grassy Gardens
London is a city full of lush green, sprawling gardens and parks. But the common people living in London have a two metre square grassy patch in front of their house for a 'garden'/'lawn'. As I was walking past a few houses yesterday, I came up with this:
The Queen's private garden is so big that the common people are left with gardens so small, they rake the leaves with pocket combs.
The Queen's private garden is so big that the common people are left with gardens so small, they rake the leaves with pocket combs.
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