Weird and lovely things

 Is it weird...

• that I've been dreaming about my grandparents' place all week (which I never do)?
• that I see signs of Berlin everywhere I look? Like at the institute yesterday, where they were giving away these newsletters with 'BERLIN' written in big bold letters on them? And not to mention, the tablets I take just happen to be manufactured in Berlin?
• that even though I'm exhausted when I go to bed, it takes me hours to fall asleep?
• that the very clamorous harmonic chirping of the sparrow family who seems to have set up camp above the parapet of the window near my bed is disturbing? And referring exclusively to the excessive bird calls, can spring (well, whatever watered down version we have here) get too springy for its own good?

Gulmohar. [Photo via Google Image Search]

And isn't it lovely...

• that there are exquisite summer flowers all along the roads? Like the Gulmohar trees (Delonix regia in English) with flowers in bright yellow and orange and soothing lavender?
• that my sister and I are going home tomorrow? :D
• that tea can lift up your spirits, bring a smile to your face, relax and energise you all at once?
• that I really really think that Berlin is happening this year?

More, later.

The Cyniqueen

The grouch who stole Tuesday

Did you think Snape was adorable? What about Miranda Priestly from The Devil Wears Prada (okay, my love for Meryl Streep overshadows my feelings for the character, but still)? Or even Manorama as Hema Malini's obese aunt in Seeta Aur Geeta - the one with the perpetual scowl on her face? Let me refresh your memory:

Uh huh. Try having a good day after that look.

Here is a question that never fails to perplex me - why are some people so terribly happy being grouchy every moment of every day? What does it yield, really? Is it pleasure they derive from hurting people? Is it overcompensation perhaps, for low self-esteem? I'm no psychologist, but if I were one, I think I might have spearheaded an exclusive study on the grouch personality. 

You can't miss these people - bargaining monstrously at the vegetable market, cutting (make that bossily pushing) ahead of everyone at a store, bequeathing the grotesque glare on anyone who stumbles ahead of them. And they're always around, albeit (and luckily) not a lot of them. As inevitable as the single pea pod from a kilo that will house a fat worm, there's one grouch for every dozen people, I believe.

What brought on this wave of fresh grumpiness of my own, is something I won't dwell on. But it's true, that a couple of months ago, a grouch on the phone spoke so rudely to me, I almost cried (after hanging up, of course). Something similar came to pass today. And being at the bottom of the working-world barrel teaches you a thing or two about tolerance. I suppose it's for the better good. I have learnt to brush it aside, learnt to recognize its futility and I'm still learning that you can't let your own happiness and peace of mind get affected by something so trivial and unnecessary.

But there is one thing I pray fervently for - no matter what happens, never ever turn me into one of them. Never ever let me forget who I am. And (digressing every so slightly) I'd take humility over success any day if it comes to choosing between the two (which hopefully, it won't). Because arrogance and pride and churlishness? Is such a waste of the goodness that is within each one of us. 

Just to clarify, I don't mean to say that crabby people are bad people. They may be lovely human beings (and usually are). But haven't they ever heard of that smiling-requires-less-muscles-than-frowning-does fact?

The Cyniqueen

Very very arbitrary...

What I wrote two days ago:

Listening to Wir Sind Helden, having written my last article for the day (I think I forgot to tell you guys that I'm doing a part time working from home thing for a website, writing articles - for work experience).

I simply want to stretch, be in bed, not too cold, not too warm and feel safe.

But today I feel unsafe and disillusioned - look at the terrible things happening in Japan. Just reminds you that there's a force greater than all of us in the world. Not the richest, nor the kindest, nor the most sensitive, nor the most powerful could have stopped this from happening.

Sorry for the sadness and the vagueness that sometimes arises in my posts of late. Turns out, you can't tune it out simply when you want to. Anyway, here's some clarity - my sister and me are going to Goa next weekend, a break that I desperately crave. I miss my family, my friends, and hello, fish. 

Besides that, I'm trying to prepare for this very important German exam that I must answer in a month. No, I am not freaking out just yet. It'll be fine. I have a plan. And if it works out, then I will be crazily ecstatic and loud and you will want to hit me with a pillow. But I'll take that with a smile too.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a dream to chase. And no better way to chase it down than with some ginger-mint tea I made earlier. Wish me luck (not just for the dream, I mean. The tea looks dubious).

Love and prayers,

The Cyniqueen

P.S - Strange how you can juxtapose the good, the bad, the happy, and the sad altogether. Such is life, eh? Peace.

Whoever said lemons are sour?

When life gives you lemons, make fresh lime soda (sweet & salty). [Image via Google Image Search]

That title has nothing to do with the post but I thought it sounded nice. May be I can use it in a book some day? If only, if only.

And also, I want fish. I want lovely rava fried chonok and delectably tender tandoor pomfret. And mussels (very fried, very oily, very yum. And completely worth it).I want to be sitting at Furtado's in Sernabatim or Boomerang in Colva - enjoying the breeze and that home town feeling. And I simply want to be in Goa.

It sucks that a part of my heart came cleanly away from the rest when I was in Germany and simply refused to come back to India with me. It lives in Germany, that bit, and beats softly and gently, nibbling at my longing and feeding the fire from all the way there. Couldn't I, just for a moment, hold both (Goa, Berlin) in my mind's arms like babies and cradle and coo?

My love-hate, now-we're-in-love, now-we're-not relationship with the Summer is back with double passion. Summer with its powdered dusty wings and its fool's smile. (Don't even ask. I have become Vague Queen for now, it would seem).

I must away. Food (for thought) beckons.

The Cyniqueen.

It's autumn again (but not outside)...

Autumn rustles, crumples and creates. (Photo via Google Image search)

There are times I wish life were a pool of mediocrity - of small minds and smaller dreams. Simpler desires. Lesser pressure. Stress of a different kind, and in smaller measures.

Sometimes I wish pain would go sting someone else.

Sometimes I feel tremendous wonder that one mind can house a million thousand gazillion thoughts within the span of a micro-second. And yet all those stray thoughts - those feelings of loveinsecuritylonelinesslongingirritationexcitementtension, howlingshrillyblindingsingingcomplainingcooingmourningshouting at me, how I can feel all this in one single, lonely moment?

And yet life goes on.

And yet it stays the same.

And I hope and I despair. And I simply long, despite myself, for a NOTHING. Just for a second. To be cocooned in a floating, unthinking, unaware, (but not unloving) state.

Too bad life can't wait. And so I trudge along, somewhat sadly, somewhat elatedly and very very madly.

Thank you for reading. Was it mediocre? Yes?  May be I'm getting somewhere.

The Cyniqueen