January, 2011 Monthly archive

Love, is love. A four letter word that encompasses a whole lot. Defining it only restricts the giving and receiving.

If I say “I love you”, it does NOT mean “I want to have sex with you”. It means exactly what I said, that I love you.
Can’t recall the number of people I have lost touch with because they have definitions.

When I was a child, with my very first crush on this boy, I used to believe I could love more than one person – there were so many cute boys in my class! My peers ridiculed me for that thought and in college I had quite the reputation. For expressing my *thoughts. [ I cannot comment about other societies but ] Indian society assumes love can be shared only with someone you’re sleeping with or your mother.

I love my friends as fiercely as I love my husband. I have priorities yes, but you can’t confuse those as less-love and more-love classifications.


Red dot day.

Do into others how you would want them to do into you. Is a romanticized notion. Being nice to everyone around you will get you kicked in the balls more than it’ll get you treated nicely.


it’s not enough to hug you
I want to linger
just a little bit longer.

it’s not enough to be with you in the same room
I want to look in your eyes
just for a moment longer.

it’s not enough to shake hands with you when I meet you and take your leave
I want to twirl
holding your finger above my head.

it’s not enough to discuss business with you
I want to hear what you have to say
when you talk to no one else but you.

it’s not enough to share a drink with you
I want to get drunk on your voice
even when you don’t have much to say.

it’s not enough to tell you I have a crush on you
I want to do something about it
something = no idea what I’m talking about.

I do, however, have a crush on you.
And you’re not my husband.
Him, I love.
And I suffer the daily dreariness in his company.

I didn’t think it was possible to be besotted with someone.

The way I am, at this stage in life, with these many years, one divorce and lots of boys behind me. Didn’t think it was possible. Maybe that is what professional and intellectual intercourse feels like. Never met someone like him. One of those men I’d like to keep in my life forever – so that when I’m seventy and I look back, I know I didn’t miss out on anything.

How do I convince my client that the quality of work (product / service ) that I deliver is far superior than the others in the market? That I am far more professional that anyone else in the entire fucking country? That he is wasting his money by hiring that other service provider / buying that other product? How do I convince my Mom that I am not an alcoholic slut? How do I convince my child that throwing tantrums is not the best way for him / her to get what he / she wants?

The answer : you can’t.

People are stupid.
You cannot teach them the value of things YOU think are good. The reason you believe those things to be good are the very reasons why the others don’t value them. You can’t talk to an addict and rid him / her of the addiction. The only thing that could work is some kind of demonstrable action – which might work in your personal life but in your professional life, demonstrable = “giving it away for free”. Hence not-workable.

If you think that telling the truth to the client is professionalism, it is because you were raised that way. You are “conditioned”. This is what you believe. If the client thinks that people – who they think are telling the truth, have an agenda – they think so because they have been conditioned to think that way. Try what you might, that neural pathway in their brain is not going to change. You might think, “Let me do this one for cheap / free – just this once – because then the client’s viewpoint will magically change.” Don’t be a dumb fuck. Not only are you then conditioning the client to believe that fantastic work can be had for free, you are also conditioning yourself to working for free and generating low self-confidence.

You cannot devote your life to changing the neural pathways of one client and changing their conditioning. I’m not saying you shouldn’t do it / try it – I’m saying you cannot. Find people who think like you and work with them. The emotional and satisfaction-level payout will far outweigh the monetary one even if you get paid what you asked for.

There is no way to avoid meeting / interacting with such people – there are more of them than us. But treat it like a jungle safari – you see something in the distance that looks like shit, but you’re not sure. You walk up closer, to sniffing distance, it stinks. It is shit. Walk around it and beyond.

Don’t try to teach shit that it’s patchouli.

She was in a chauffeur-driven car. The clock was inching toward midnight and she wanted to be home before it hit 12.

But the chauffeur had other ideas. Far from home, without his wife, with no alcohol in his system and loneliness, he had a lot to say. Driving at 20 kilometers per hour, he let loose.

23 years old, forcefully married a year ago, he carried his wife in his arms on the wedding day because she had broken her foot & couldn’t walk the seven circles around the sacred fire. He started with a career as a soldier in the Assam Rifles. Emotionally blackmailed his mother to get him called back to the village because he couldn’t eat dogs. A deserter at 19, he decided to study some more. At 21 he joined Hero Honda as a low level engineer with a screw driver in his hand. One motorcycle an hour, his job was 25 minutes in that hour. He delivered multiple stab wounds to the alcoholic Bihari boss who was verbally abusive.

He hid. Then his cousin got him a job as a security guard. Went from a 17,000 Rupees per month salary to 1,500 per month. Frustrated. He now drives a car for the family of a business-man who is soon moving to China, lock stock and barrel. The business-man has promised 40,000 Rupees per month to his family exclusive of the drivers expenses.

The wife urges him to go ahead and pursue this career path. The old fart of a father in the village thinks it would be demeaning if he left his wife of one year behind. What would the hookah-smoking village-folk say? So he turns down the China job and drives the business-man’s friend home on New Year’s Eve so she can be with her family.

Happy New Year, 2011.