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The Plan....

The plan is to keeping going The plan is to not gather moss The plan is to remember The plan is to not reminisce The plan is to hold dear The plan is to not keep holding on The plan is to stay calm The plan is to not melt down The plan is to survive.

Ok I was supposed to post this last year... somehow didn't ... but completing it now:

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A friend asked me the other day what happened to JR. Did I meet him for coffee? Well before I reply to that question. Here's part two of the exchange.

Wed 28, May 2008, JR wrote:

Your name evokes pleasant sensations..

Prasad : An offering to the Gods … Potentially delectable?

Ramamurthy: God’s image (Let’s not get into Ram’s existential crisis for the moment)… Simply divine?

Your blog mentioned ‘journalist’, but I don’t remember TV being mentioned. Thanks for telling me. At some point in time, when you feel like it, tell me more about your job.

I don’t watch TV at all, so you’ll have to also tell me where and when to look out for you. Coincidentally, or perhaps, not so coincidentally, I was part of a TV channel years ago, till it went bust . Home TV. Do you remember it? It was fun while it lasted..

So you were born in Shivaji Park. I went to school near there.. Bombay Scottish. Small world, huh?

I haven't heard this one about the year of 'Pungi bajao, lungi hatao' . Is it for real or are you pulling a fast one?
Sounds rather risqué ..
Pungi bajao? As in ‘blow’ your own trumpet.. or shall we say, instrument?
No ambiguity at all about ‘lungi hatao’ ..

So you were born in that year. I shall await the ‘coming’ of the coffee to judge for myself the cosmic implications of this conjunction of events..

And.. you lust after curd rice and pickles..on ‘hot’ afternoons. Does this mean you’re an ultra cool guy (the curd rice) with a hint of spice (the pickle)? Hmmm…

Am I being too simplistic.. or possibly too facetious?

My chosen skill. Hmmmmmmmm...
Now you have hit at the very core of MY existential crisis. The answer is very honestly: I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure it out. Let’s say I’ve had the privilege of taking my time…

I did make a 55 minute documentary last year, and it has been screened a few times. So you could say I’m ‘visual’ too.. like you.

More in my next mail..

Wed 28, May 2008, Visualscribe wrote:

Gosh Home TV ... That was 97-98? An eternity ago... Ok must warn you
at this point I'm a bit of an ageist .... If such a word exists.... So
how old does this make you? Hmm am I cool and spicy? Hell this much of
analysis into dietary habits has never happened. What was the docu
about? Struggling to make a 19 min one... So 55mins...wow...


Wed 28, May 2008, JR wrote:

And.. gosh, that was a fast come back!
If you are an ageist, we can say goodbye to the coffee for this life time.. I'm 53.
Best you save the 'coming' coffee.. . topped with cream?.. for nubile ,existential- crisis- free youths who are hankering to get a piece of the 'prasad.. Pungi bajao,lungi hatao!
No 'hard' feelings from my side..just a little regret..It will pass..
My film is about my father, so 55 minutes was no big deal.Actually it was.. I had to struggle to keep it short. Most people thought it should have been longer.I didn't.
Good luck with your film.Take care of yourself.
And, thanks, it was fun while it lasted...Like Home TV.. which went bust too!


Fri 30, May 2008, Visualscribe wrote:

Hey i said i am an ageist... But that doesn't mean we can't get a
cuppa sometime?


Fri 30, May 2008. JR wrote:

I was delighted to get your letter.

I owe you an apology.

My last mail to you was an embarrassment. You didn’t deserve it.

My big mistake was in looking for a physical connection when I had already found something rare and precious.. a mental connection.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me.
I really look forward to that cuppa..

Till then, I wish you love, peace… J

.... Mr J ... coffee still awaits...

Recently I realised I had not posted in well over a year. This, given that I started this blog only 'cause I had stopped writing in - forever. I of course, blamed the job, the working hours, the constant state of exhaustion for it. But in the past year, all that has tremedously reduced. So why have I not been writing? Well the simple and straight forward answer is: I don't know. But I do know that I want to change that. Rectify it as best as I can. The only way I have realised to improve my writing, is by writing. Writing more. More often. Often as possible. When ideas take root, words take flow, posts happen. Or something like that.While I write out my next post - on my recent Bangalorean soujourn where I was sent to report, manage reporting, essentially keep a track of things, instead pondered on other essentials - here's a recent exchange with someone who read my blog. I'm still getting over the fact that someone still reads my stale blog. But hey there's atleast one person and that person's written to me. I don't know if he would want to the world to know, but that's a risk I'll take. Simply cause the exchange itself brought out some nice writing (I think so, you are welcome to differ). Read on

LETTER 1
On 5/23/08, JR wrote:
Hi.
Are you Visualscribe from the blogspot Existential Crisis?
Best,
J

THE REPLY
On Sun, 5/25/08, Visualscribe wrote:
Yes... Why do u ask?

LETTER TWO
On 5/25/08, JR wrote:
Why do I ask?
Because I liked you blog. I liked your candour and your insight.I identified with your existential crisis.. And last but not the least..I liked your photo! Someone of your age and your appearance shouldn't be having an existential crisis at all! On the contrary, there should be a myriad reasons to 'exist' in the true sense of the word. Your blog spot has not been updated in a while..so I wondered if you really 'exist'..It is a relief to know you do. Maybe we can meet up some time.. that is if you still live in Bombay. I do.And also if you have the time and the inclination...
In the meanwhile please continue to be a scribe.. even if you don't become visual..
Cheers,
J

THE REPLY
On Mon, 5/26/08, Visualscribe wrote:
Well i do exist... Crisis or otherwise... How did you stumble on my blog though.... Having not written in over a year.... shocked it's been seen...much less read.... Well age - and i am of a certain age and not burdened by it - is all a state of mind... I truly believe we all lurch from one existential crisis to the other.... Each "crisis" being greater than the previous one....making us question our path ahead.... But as experience is our teacher... Each crisis is only temporary... Permanent only in that moment in time ... Ok too much pontification.... Perhaps an introduction to start off? A profile to share.... That can then be followed up with a coffee?

LETTER THREE
On 5/26/08, JR wrote:
I exist too.. Crisis or otherwise!
How did I stumble on your blog? It was an interesting progression of searches that led me from looking at bodies to trying to look inside heads (no pun intended), and that led me to Bombay Dost's list of Best Indian Blog sites ..You can guess the rest. Didn't you know you are one of The Chosen Ones?! You are being read.. I am testimony to that. I must say yours is one of the better sites.. yeah, I actually ploughed my way through all, believe it or not. Some of them are kind of smartass, some are wannabe cerebral, some are randy, but very few, like yours, seemed from the heart. That's what touched me.
I wouldn't call it pontification..let's call it a stream of consciousness/awareness about your existential 'angst'..You have a way with words and there is a progression and clarity of your thoughts that make your verbalisation both interesting and thought provoking.
A profile.. hmmm.
I'm a Bombay Bong.. more specifically a Bandra Bong.. I was born here and have lived in this suburb all my life. I mention Bong because somehow my identity has remained distinct from the the Bandra Boy archetype.. our family has retained it's cultural identity despite strong local influences and change all around. No, I don't spout poetry and burst into Tagore songs at the drop of a hat.. and I am not a diehard Marxist. I don't actually know what I am or who I am.. and thereby stems MY existential crisis! I do know however that I am single, I like reading.. not terribly intellectual stuff, but not exactly pulp fiction either.. my current favourite is Murakami. I like music.. I'm not into sports. Basically solitary pursuits. Is that ok for starters?
Coffee sounds perfect.. I'll be ready whenever you are. No rush.
For the moment, I'm enjoying and savouring this exchange..

THE REPLY
Tue, 27 May 2008, Visualscribe wrote:
I have to confess that I am enjoying this exchange of letters as well.
Though digital there's still something tangible to it. I am a
journalist: hence a scribe. The medium's TV: hence visual. Born in Shivaji Park in the year of Poongi bajao lungi hatao. Grew up in Matunga. In the days when the Tams ruled its roost. But my kind has hardly affected me. If anything I'm hardly like them and am happy not being so. That doesn't mean I won't lust for good curd rice and pickle on a hot summer afternoon. I do. What's your chosen skill? Keep the mails going. The coffee will come.

Will I keep posting our further correspondence? Hmm I really don't know. Only the writing will tell. Cheers!

A FRIEND, 3, AND ANOTHER TALE

I heard last night that a friend of mine... had the hots for number 3... Had made out with him... A short while after I had decided to move on... Even as I cried my guts out elsewhere... Had cut off all contact with 3.... Its funny coz this friend even tried to help me woo 3 back... I of course as we all know miserably failed.... Funnier still since now it somehow doesn't seem to matter that much ... It doesn't matter that 3's kissing other bois... going out on dates with someone... It made me feel sad somewhere inside... but it didn't hurt that bad... Does that mean I didn't love him as much as I thought I had... Doubt it... It once hurt real bad...

I think I've grown, accepted, digested and internalised the truth. That he's only a friend... a friend I shall deeply love... care for ... and be there when he needs me...

Should it have hurt that a friend kissed him... professed his love... to my love... even as I was hurting elsewhere...? Should I have felt betrayed....? I dunno... I'm just too suprised right now with my own reaction in some ways... I know time heals... It has in the past... But never this quickly... Have I grown that distant from my feelings... or has my "Let Go" theory taken such deep root that I am in danger of losing my feelings for somehow almost instantly after my mind takes a decision... That's almost a scary thought I would rather not answer... even to myself....

But then again I can't have grown that distant either.... As I write this ... the sight of that kiss.. that fateful night... comes back to me.... I can't see the face of the guy 3's kissing... I still can't... but I can see the kiss all right... and tears are back.... streaming down my cheeks... just that this time they are mere droplets... The force has dimmed.... The ache has lessened... I have healed...

A little...

OF LEAKY BREASTS... AND BLEEDING HEARTS....

A friend of mine delivered her second baby a few days ago. A bundle of joy. Well that's I thought. But her description of motherhood.. both moved me ... and made me wonder... Her description of leaky breasts.. bleeding leaky breasts... the suckling of a child... as comforting as sandpaper on a nipple... gave me like this new as yet unknown peep hole in what it takes to be a mother.. I mean we all know of the hours and hours of labour... issues with C-section and all that.. but somehow post that trouble... i guess one's always been told its smooth sailing... well sort of .. .kids can fall ill.. be nursed to health... and all that.. But the act of a mother feeding her child has somehow always been glamourised.. so presented as a pleasurable experience... and reading MMs writings I began to wonder... is it all a myth.. or a Bollywood created ... idea of motherhood that we've all bought into... Specially ppl like me who have little no idea of what it all really means... Maybe this kinda info is all out there... maybe other ppl know about it... maybe its just me who doesn't .... Who knows...

My sister's expecting twins... All I can say Best of Luck ! God Help You ! Atleast you won't have to do it twice.

three's no lucky number...

Well a few days ago... number 3 had a party ... a pre-valentine's day party.. and I had promised to go.... even though it was in Delhi... even though I was short of money... hell I hardly get to see him... and what are credit cards for ?! So I went... But this time the visit had an edge.. some where in the past couple of months I had made up mind... two years waiting for him was long enough.... Loving him with all I had... loving him more then I had ever loved anyone with the exception of my mother of course... and there was this one conversation that had once again given me some hope... a flickering flame but a flame nonetheless... that he might be mine after all... that we might have a future after all... that we might be a 'we' after all! ... And so I went... bought a couple of things... things to remind him of our four years of togetherness... a t-shirt with shiva on it... something he's always wanted... but never bought himself... just cause he never thought he could carry it off... Then there was that red belt he wanted.... and the white tee... and John Abraham's autograph.... Four things... for four years... the fifth the best I kept for the last... He always wanted to go do dinner at Olive... we just never got around to it while he lived in mumbai... so I decided that would be number 5... the cherry on the top.... the icing on the cake... take whatever cliche you want... I would fly him to Mumbai... for a V-day dinner... The day ... the 10th.... started like any other... we got up... went shopping for the party.... got things set for the party.... It was like it always had been... the chemistry... the ... dunno what to call it... just that sense that we were somehow tied together... like we were somehow just meant to be... and it was just a matter of time... and that time could well be now... then... People came... the drinks flowed... the conversation was great... Played host ... Some one even asked me if the 'host'.. he that is... and me had something going on... the odd comment that we made a good couple... and surprised that he had never mentioned me in that vein before... My heart skipped a couple of beats... My gifts had gone down well.... there was still hope for me... for us... We were dancing having a good time... I was on fire... His friends wanted to dance with me... wanted to know where he had kept me hidden all this time... I was having the time of my life ... And then it spun out of control... I couldn't breathe... like someone had just reached in and ripped my insides out... I didn't quite know what to say or do... All I could do was sit in a corner... just sit... I could not have seen what I just saw... but then I just had... I sat... and his temporary roomate turns up... to tell me that he thinks... 3's in love with me... and I thought to myself really... and I had just seen him kiss someone... someone who he says meant nothing to him... someone who as a result it was easy to kiss... me... I had baggage... the baggage of a relationship gone wrong... that had stagnated... I had stagnated with it... He had moved on... I had just stayed... gone sour...

The Death of Aspiration

Recently the company decided to give me a car.... and for some reason i had a problem with it... Somehow i felt it wasn't for me... it would be a problem to deal with... A problem to possess and not know how to get rid of.. how to deal with.. Then I realised what the problem was... Having a car... not owning it.... just having it itself meant that somehow i had grown up.... Hell at 30 i had realised i had grown up all right.. there was more to it... I realised i had never aspired to own a car... own a house... own anything... Owning anything solid, concrete would also mean some grounding, rooted to one place. And somehow I had never thought that in my head as possible. Bombay's always been home but not a place I thought I would stay in forever. Just someplace I lived in, probably for now. In a sort of continous directionless existence. The car had somehow triggered off something more then that. The idea that damn I am here for good. Atleast the forseeable good. Now I'll actually have to think of owning a home. Settling in! Settling down!! Emotionally I have been ready to settle with a someone for a while now. But not physically. I don't know they differ but they do. My life's flown from one point to another almost seamlessly. From school to college to engg to journalism to america to cnn to ndtv to here. My change of course has always had to do with something emotional or something that meant more to me in my immediate future. Whether that was moving careers or jobs. Like when I moved cities and jobs to get over a break-up. Or broke-up to return home to my dying mother. It was always led by my heart and an immediate need. Never by my head or my wallet.

In all of this I realised one very important thing. I had never ever aspired. Never aspired to own a car, a home, a life. Everything in my life has just happened. Never with a long term goal in sight. There are people who know where they want to go and what they want to do with their life. I'm not one of them. I never have been. And I've done well for myself. I am 30. Have lived my life on my terms. Came out to my family when I wanted to. Got accepted by my family and my friends. Got accepted at work by people I thought would have a problem with it. I have a great job. Lots of freedom and responsibility. Great pay packet. And now the car. The car that made me realise I had gone through everything without the one thing that often drives life: Aspiration.

Well still don't have it :-) ... But I have to figure it out I guess life ahead depends on it