Again and again

What's with me and monsoon-sickness? I woke up today and with my eyes still shut against the noise of the world, I could tell that it was overcast outside (well, mostly because dazzling sunshine wasn't trying to rip my eyes open like it usually does. I have flimsy curtains). And for no reason, I thought of how it is when the monsoon finally starts one late evening and it's absolutely divine because the heavens have saved you from the scorching heat. And the lights go out of course, because that's what happens in Goa. It's a natural reaction to everything. 

So anyway, you don't care about the electricity cut because it's raining and it's finally cool now. You slap on some mosquito repellent (anyone else remember the sticky, goopy, thick, pistachio-coloured, strong smelling Odomos cream?) and get into bed, happily lulled to sleep with the rhythmic sound of the rain drumming on the roof.

Do you remember that feeling, when you wake up the next day and you've forgotten that the monsoon started, but then you feel the overcast darkness and hear the errant drops still falling softly from the leaves of trees? I didn't even know that this was a thing, that it was a real, legitimate feeling like the first day of school until I woke up today and felt it.

I must be homesick again, because every time that happens, I start dreaming of family weddings in minute detail. Cousins happily married in real life are made to go through the wedding ordeal all over again in my dream world, houses are exchanged (relatives from dad's side of the family get married in homes from mum's side of the family and vice versa). Last night, it was two cousins getting married at the same time. I guess it can't be anything but homesickness.

Or maybe it's just escapism? The last couple of weeks  have been tinged with an oozing guilt, leaking out of my mind. I still have some time to go before I submit this thesis, but sometimes I find myself thinking if I honestly need that second Master's degree. It's bollocks, actually, I'm just trying to avoid it all.

Started reading 'Autobiography of a Yogi' by Paramahansa Yogananda in an attempt to cleanse mind of bad thoughts. And because I need to read something before I sleep every night. I thought of re-reading Bridget Jones' Diary or The God of Small Things, but then I thought may be I need a dose of spirituality in these troubled mental times.

Also, I finished reading Sea of Poppies by Amitav Ghosh, my very first time reading him (brilliant, but not for me) and The Great Gatsby, which was also sort of okay.

Anyway, I have decided to work at home today, because it's raining so perfectly outside. And I'm wearing my tent like night gown and I don't want to change into decent day clothes accepted by society just yet.

I love wearing lazy clothes while I work, don't you? I love being a slob sometimes, I love it.

Raindrops and wisdom,
The Cyniqueen.

When it rains in Berlin

By Anomalily via Flickr

Something finally gives way. The panicked desperation for a delayed spring, still needing to wear earmuffs and thick gloves. Piles of old snow blankets, dirty and tinged with Berlin's black soil but determinedly solid, unrelenting, refusing to thaw. They cling still on tops of shrubs, collected in muddy heaps on sides of roads and sidewalks, on hidden corners of roofs and deserted patches of earth.
The sparrows still chirp, their loud cries defiant, shrill in the unseasonably crisp freeze at this time of the year.

Then, something breaks. You're too warm in that winter coat, so you switch back to your thinner jacket, still cautious, still painfully aware of Berlin's fickle weather swings.

But it stays that way. And then, out of nowhere, snow turns into rain. Not piddly no-drops like you're standing next to a fountain, but rain rain. Drops like spears, crashing on the perfectly smooth pallid roads, barraging on everyone, ratting out weak umbrellas.

You blink around and wait. For that muddy, earthy fragrance when the first drops of rain sizzle on the scorching, wrinkled, thirsty soil. For the wafting smells of hot fried bhaji, pakoras and samosas. For warm, roasted peanuts in newspaper cones. For signs of little stalls crowded with people, squinting at the rain, a rustic glass of hot cardamom chai in their cool hands, blowing on it to cool it down.

You wait for that squelch of shoes in the water rivulets born out of the downpour. For the splashes of water as people on two wheelers, late for work, irritated with errant raindrops sliding through their raincoats and wetting their backs, speed by, drenching hems of Kurtas and pants with muddy water.

It starts to rain harder. I wait for chaos. For street urchins and school children on their way home from school, jumping in puddles. For the loud croaks of hidden frogs. For the electricity cuts that don't happen.

Back in Berlin, the tram rattles to a stop and everyone gets in, irritably wiping the raindrops off their minds.

Because here, in this perfect world so far away from home, not a hair is out of place. Bright umbrellas have popped up everywhere, people scurry past me. No one's cooking food on the street, no crowds have huddled around rickety food and chai stalls and no one is cheerful at the spring that has brought warmth but rain instead of sunshine.

How could they be happy about it, how could they begin to understand, when they don't know what magic monsoon conceals in its muddy, splashing, trickling, cooling folds?

*******

I wrote this on one of the first days of spring a couple of days back, when it felt like monsoon in Goa. In Berlin.

And this song kept playing in my head on loop all day. Sigh.

-The Cyniqueen

Plip-plop

There's no water in the house
And in my mind, a tap's leaking

Does that make sense? Guess not. But there really isn't any running water in the house since morning. Urgh. So disgusting I feel in this sticky heat. But we had fish curry rice again for lunch today and then we had alsaandyachi bhaji yesterday and today (which is sort of like Rajma, but you only get  it in Goa) and life was merry again.

My internship's going pretty well and I've got a couple of bylines in the paper too. And also, I have the best morning commute in the world. The road from Margao to where I need to go is lined with coconut trees and fields and green and ponds and rivers and glimpses of the ocean. Whenever I get the window seat, I get no reading done whatsoever (except on Saturday, when I was so exhausted while coming back from work that I feel asleep with my face against the window, doing that involuntary, terribly undignified head bobbing, falling asleep thing I used to laugh at fellow-commuters for).

I miss my sister, who is still in Pune, very, very much. I wish she was here too. It's nice to be home, have my folks around, have the comforts of air conditioning and a soft bed. A little annoying what with the no water and all, but still. I get to be home home. In my birth and growing-up place ^_^

And and and I have a lot of work still, but I can't get my mind to be still. It's not horrible like the pre-German-test tension and restlessness that was pouring out of my ears, but simply the tired kind. I have to peel myself off the couch after I get back from work and I'm done with dinner. And then work again. But we must what we must, no? I gently placed my Berlin magnet above a photo frame in my room because there's no magnety surface it'll stick to. I need to keep reminding myself of the bigger (and ahem, thinner) picture. Next stop, fitness.

Until later.

The Cyniqueen

 

Breathe

Ahwoohoo! The dreaded exam is finally over and done with. For now, anyway. Results are out at the end of the month. Until then, I wait, hope and work. And fear. Life throws a lot of things at you. And some are wonderful, but scary. But a good kind of scary, you know?


I don't have much else to report except for the sticky heat of Goa and the strangely disorienting comfort of home. Also, beautiful, warm, summery rays of sunlight slant into my room in the evening, little glittering golden beams. I can't help but love the orange glow it brings to my room. Peace visits my bedroom every evening, no exceptions. Isn't Nature wonderful?

The above paragraph was written weeks ago, after I was in Goa following my big German exam. Since then, I've made a short (hectic) trip to Pune, where I proceeded to attempt the frightful task of moving almost 4 years worth of stuff back to Goa along with managing university work like transcripts and recommendation letters. My room in Goa is now covered with suitcases and clothes upon clothes, as if I'm a guest in my own home. But but but, the main reason I came back here is for an internship I'm doing in Panjim, which I'm quite pleased about. Life lessons (such as the iron-smelling, sweat-mingling, elbow-punching, change-counting joys of learning to travel by the local transport) are happening. 


I miss you and you and you. I shall post again soon, I hope.


Love and sunshine,


The Cyniqueen


Pssst....reading this very interesting book called Eat That Frog by Brian Tracey about time management, which I don't normally do (both reading about time management and sadly, time management itself). Point is, try to give it a read if you can. Thanks to G for the tip (read: almost devotion-like praise of the book following by continual prodding to go read it). :D

Here without you

Symbolic representation of my mind. [via Google Image Search]

Dear Blogger, 

I miss you.

Dear fellow bloggers whose blogs I read and love and comment on,

I miss you too (but guilty pleasures have a way of getting fulfilled).

Dear TestDaF exam which takes place on 12th April,

I want to crack you, but you're somewhat intimidating. You are the reason for my rear being stuck to this chair for hours on the end. You are the last German-related hurdle and you, my last exam (Hopefully in the first attempt).

Dear aimless internet-surfing,

You are the only thing that makes me feel entertained and useless at the same time(after 2 hours of mindless surfing and Wiki reading). But I miss you. The Massive Surfing of  31.03.2011 (as it shall be known from now on) about World war II after watching bits of Der Untergang (again) shall be our little secret.

Dear link-hopping on German university websites which I need to do till I finish my applications,

I haven't taken warmly to you (since you made me stop my much loved mindless surfing) and it is quite unlikely that I will ever miss you. Quite.

Note: These University websites have me caught in a web of links so tight and intricate, I can't breathe. Did you know you could get lost on the internet and roam in circles and get very scared you'll never be able to find your way back to your homepage again? I feel like that when I go through these links. So to reiterate, I will not be missing this particular activity.

Dear afternoon naps,

No, you aren't good for me, but we both know how much you mean to me. And now that I must study every chance I get (as relaxing as that is), I have to let you go. For a while, anyway. But we shall meet again, okay? Soon.

Dear Goan-raw-mango-concoction-which-we-made-in-pune-which-sits-on-the-dining-table-as-we-speak-and-which-makes-me-drool-just-thinking-about-it,

*drools*

Dear social life,

I mourn your death every moment of everyday. I will meet you in your new, reincarnated life in Germany, I will.

Dear English books, Vogue and Cosmo,

Hang in there. I'm getting to you very soon. Also, I miss you.

Dear Goa, dear home, dear air conditioner, dear fish, dear Tata Sky, dear backyard, dear peace,

Simply put, take me in your arms and let me live with you forever*.

*Conditions Apply

Dear Juno, my lovely guitar,

You are my weak-spot, but I haven't played you all year. All year! I'm so sorry, my precious, and I miss you.

Dear empty-wall-in-my-study-room,

It's weird not having you around. Instead, the wall is now a disorderly wall-of-post-its bearing Redemittel, Synonyme and other study stuff in general.

Dear Solitaire on my laptop, my sole sweet source of pleasure,

Don't ever leave me okay? You're all I have. You and my colourful stationary. And the new Rubik's cube, which is more fun to scramble expertly than try to solve uselessly .

Dear feeling of Nothing-On-My-Mind, 

I barely remember you. Your brethren Falling-Asleep-Quickly-And-Thoughtlessly and Mr.Switch-Off (as in switch off all your worries and be carefree, also called my Goan state of mind) have become vague memories too. Come back soon, won't you? Missing doesn't begin to cover what I feel for you.

Dear Germany, dear Berlin, dear people who made Germany magical for me,

Guess who I miss most?

Yours sincerely,

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.

Just some randomness

At a supermarket in Rotterdam. Look at the colours :)

Things I bought today:

• One birthday card (not for myself because the birthday is over. And because I'm not that person. Yet).
• One coconut
• Cosmopolitan and Better Photography (still don't have that DSLR, in case you're wondering. When I have one, believe me, you'll know. Mars and Pluto and Jupiter will know too).
• A flower garland

Things I heard:

• Very boring 90's hindi music (the absolutely unheard of kind that plays in buses on long journeys).
• Horse hooves - rhythmic, pure, trotting, clipped  (through the window of my living room. Love that sound. Such sensory delight).
• A drunk singing loudly passing by the house (also heard through the window of my living room. I do need to start looking for a new place).

Today wasn't special. Nothing fluttered (least of all hope), nothing changed. 

I should be getting ready for bed right now. I should be worrying about universities right now. I should be rejoicing that internet's back after a day. Oh, and I should be clearing up the table.

But I want to be in bed with a book. I want to be in Berlin, with the cold, and the snow and I want to miss Goa from there. I want a magic wand to clean up my life. I want that magic wand to be ME.

How's that for vague?

Goodnight folks

The Cyniqueen

Wouldn't it be Loverly?

Inspired from Kanika's lovely blog, from this post right here, I'm formulating an 'I Want' list too. (Partly also because I'm convalescing from a two day illness and feel the need to contribute to the world. You know, creatively).

1. I want the locality I live in (in Pune) to be a little less noisy. No, a LOT less noisy.
2. I want to be in Germany. Despite the biting cold, because I looooove (Germany, not the cold).
3. I want to be fitter. Okay, leaner. Umm...healthy. Oh f*&^ it. I want to be toned and  thin (the right kind. You know what I mean) and flexible like Samara Currimbhoy from NDTV Good Times. Have you seen the woman stretch?
4. I want to understand a little sliver of fashion (trying to be realistic here).
5. Before I live anywhere out of India I want to be able to (a)Pleat a sari (b)make a 'typical' Indian meal (c)do some yoga
6.  I want Goa. Forever. Almost.
7. I want a faster internet connection
8. I want an ektara.
9. I want to speak perfect German. And eventually learn Portuguese, French, Dutch, Italian, Bengali, Gujarati (Hmm...not being realistic at all but while I'm making the world listen to me, I might as well, eh?)
10.  I want a clear face. Pretty please.
11. DSLR. DSLRDSLRDSLRDSLRDSLRDSLRDSLRDSLR. World, I cannot emphasize this enough. And just in case you forgot, DSLR. Okay?

Oh, and you must see this (from 00:50 if you want to jump right to the main bit. But you shouldn't). I abso-bloomin'-lutely adore the way it's sung:

 

It's rather dull in town, I think I'll take me to Paree.
Mmmmmm.
The mistress wants to open up
The castle in Capri.
Me doctor recommends a quiet summer by the sea!
Mmmm, Mmmm, wouldn't it be loverly?
  

All I want is a room somewhere,
Far away from the cold night air.
With one enormous chair,
Aow, wouldn't it be loverly?
 

Lots of choc'lates for me to eat,
Lots of coal makin' lots of 'eat.
Warm face, warm 'ands, warm feet,
Aow, wouldn't it be loverly?
 

Aow, so loverly sittin' abso-bloomin'-lutely still.
I would never budge 'till spring
Crept over me windowsill.
 

Someone's 'ead restin' on my knee,
Warm an' tender as 'e can be. 'ho takes good care of me,
Aow, wouldn't it be loverly?
Loverly, loverly, loverly, loverly 

 (more about the song)

Yours yearningly,

The  Cyniqueen

Ruminating...

I hate being all sombre and morose and vague in this blog, I do. But every day I just keep realizing that there are people in the world doing so much more, and tapping into whatever potential they have. Like him and her and her and Brad (who prefers to be called Adam, apparently, so that's what I shall call him henceforth) and CC, with his Love Sex Dance Magazine, (an online fashion magazine which you really should check out, especially the current issue)...I realize I spoke about people who are not in India, which is just a coincidence. The point is (as I see it), either they're doing what they love or working towards it; and logically speaking, that's how it should be for all of us. It shouldn't have to be an extraordinary thing, but it is. I admire people like this so much. And the weird thing is - nothing's stopping me but the shadows of my own mind.

I am happy for some things in my life though. Like for instance I took the more sensible (and harder) decision of staying on in Pune (instead of Goa, which hello, is fabulous) whether I get through the German course for this session or not. I'm happy that I'm doing something more to stay healthy. And today, I joined Guitar class, which I have wanted to do for so very long. You see, technically I've been playing the guitar since late 2006. But I mostly learned it on my own, off the internet and with very little personal help. So while I can play some things, there's so much more that I need to learn and (eeep!) lots and lots of wrong playing techniques I need to change. I hope this goes excellently. This still counts for something as far as the whole tapping your potential thing goes, does it not? I hope so.

I have a total love-hate relationship with my birthday, which approaches swiftly. In my mind, it waits there ahead of me (now at a distance where I can see it) and rubs its hands together slyly, not divulging what it has in store for me. Birthdays are frigging unpredictable, am I right? Even if I remain occupied the whole day, there's always this little voice in my head that whispers alluringly, sinfully - it's your birthday, you're supposed to be having a superamazingcrazilyexcitinglymindblowinglyecstatic day. And even though until then I've been pleased with the day, it suddenly begins to seem not-good-enough. And yay! becomes eh. Also, having a normal, routine day on your birthday is somehow anticlimactic and depressing. 

I think it has everything to do with the fact that most birthdays when you were a kid actually did seem  superamazingcrazilyexcitinglymindblowinglyecstatic because of the presents and the attention. Sigh. I wish stuff meant just as much now. Although I must admit, if I could have bought a DSLR on my birthday, I would have been disturbingly elated. So anyway, I was talking to G about it who says it wouldn't bother him at all if his birthday were like any other day or even if he were alone. It's going to be hard, but this year I'm going to try not putting any pressure on the day and let it take its own course. 

And now, an attempt to brighten up and sweeten this post:

This was a sprite flavoured cake (baked using sprite instead of egg. How cool is that?) I baked during my CMYK (photography) course for the whole class and Saloni clicked this picture. The gems (which got displaced on the way from Margao to Mapusa) are supposed to spell click! and there's a smile there in the middle which drowned in the icing. But look - colour can spruce up anything :)

What do you do on your birthday?

The Cyniqueen.

Snap back to reality (end of lovely and very stereotypical Italian accordian music that had been playing in my head everytime saw my last post about Italy. Sigh and sigh).

Some more random things about Berlin (the fag end)

• Beggars there are better dressed than in India. But the weird thing is that they always, but always, have a dog with them. A really cute one. On a leash that too. It's the most bizarre thing, but I swear I never saw a Berliner Beggar who didn't have a dog (Hmm...that sounds like a song from a musical)
• The market at Hackescher Markt every Thursday. I could go on and on about my very favourite place in all of Berlin, and I get dreamy eyed just thinking about it - Okay, truth be told, it's just a regular market with different stalls - but I dunno, something about it just stuck, and I kept going back during my time there - for different varieties of olives from the Italian stall (or was it Greek?), for second hand but almost mint condition German books at as low as 25 Cents a book, for bittery, soothingly steaming, sweet, floats-right-up-to-your-head type hot chocolate, for Sandtiere (cloth animals stuffed with sand - I bought a green snake and a lizard for 9 Euros -the cute kind, with buttons for eyes) which I bought at a stall that sold, among other things, Indian agarbattis and cloth posters of Indian Gods and Goddesses. If there was one single place I'd pick to go back to, Hakescher Markt would be it for sure.
• And ganz in der nähe von (translation: very close to) Hakescher Markt, is this place called Oranienburger Straße, which houses the Tacheles Gallery, which is this awe-inspiring, intimidating, outlandish and honestly, a slightly smelly building where artists live and they have pubs and exhibitions and paintings for sale. Another thing Oranienburger Straße is known for besides Tacheles and its lively night life is ahem, the street prostitutes (street prostitution is legal in Berlin, by the way). One question - How were they not cold in their short-shorts?

After Friedberg, Berlin, Holland, Italy and Hanover, for the first time ever, landing in Goa was a bit of a letdown. The loyal Goan in me was appalled at the lack of tingling excitement that usually begins to tick inside me as I near Goa, but this new part of me, the person who went to Europe and fell right in love with it, wanted to keep on looking back to take it all in - all the way to the airport - kept wanting to delay the moment the plane tucked in its wheels inside and took off into the air, leaving German soil. In a nutshell - I miss it terribly. I returned to India and brought with me a desire to go back.


I was in Goa for about two weeks after I came back, which was a lot of family time spent visiting various cousins, playing with two very cute new members of the family - my niece and nephew - and it was all very fun. I was always scared of holding babies and mostly prefer to stay away from the giggling crowd of women who usually take to surrounding babies, cooing and cheek-pinching and kissing. I mean, of course babies are really cute, but I never understood the mad dash people have to like, cuddle and play with them. But after these two tots, babies suddenly seem less scary and less mysterious - Babies in general that is, not my own. Heh. That thought is still petrifying. Naturally.


I reached Pune two days ago, with a mixture of resignation and numbness - I've never loved the city (though I've been here for about three years) because let's face it, Pune is no Goa. And while I appreciate how much living here has taught me, I was still thrilled in May when I went back to Goa for an indefinite period of time, taking a break from the German courses. Somehow, in my mind, Pune life is real life, where I have to do all the work (buying groceries, taking care of bills, repairs, etc) as opposed to Goa, where there are other people who get the work done.
Anyway, the plan is that I do another level of German now (if I get admission - there's always a waiting list at the institute) so as to better my chances of going to Germany.

*Fingers crossed*


 
Yours hopefully,
The Cyniqueen

Zen

Good things in my life right now?
I finally drove the car after almost a year. Last year around this time, I sort of sprained my right wrist while lifting a very large bucket of water (of all things) because there was going to be some kind of a water shortage, which at the end of it didn't really end up affecting me at all. Which strengthens my belief in fate and shows that I was destined to sprain that wrist. I mean, I never go about lifting very large buckets of water, y'know? So anyway, basically every time I was down in Goa and tried to drive the shiny pink Zen Estillo, my wrist would start to ache. And then I lost the confidence that I'd be able to drive. But on Sunday, mom and dad and I went to the beach and I drove and it was like I had never had the break. And we had tea/coffee and bought shorts and tee shirts and things, and it was all very nice. I mean, it was Colva (which unfortunately has retained very little of its pristine beauty of many years ago, thanks to shameless commercial exploitation), but it was still fun.
So basically, yay! Because I can finally drive myself to my salon and stop looking like Cousin It from the Adams Family (okay, its not that bad. It's never that bad). 


More good things - The Germany trip in August is mostly happening. I'm sorting out ticket fares right now (which have suddenly shot up. My luck.) but hopefully it should all get finalized soon. The internship/job scene, on the other hand, not so hot. I'm still trying, but I don't know when something substantial will develop. Sigh and sigh.


Apart from that, I don't have much to blog about. The strange floating, blank, semi-existing feeling continues. I don't know if it's depression or emptiness or just a phase. Whatever it is, I fervently hope it passes away soon.


And now, if you could all excuse me (and I use the term 'all' very loosely here), I have to go do exciting CV and job application stuff. Oh, the thrill of it all.


Until later,
The Cyniqueen.