Blue..

I don't know why we went there that day, maybe it was boredom, maybe we wanted to be alone somewhere. We enjoyed the feeling of trepidation-outsiders without much money in a really expensive hotel. I think we ordered one cup of tea between the two of us but were lucky enough to get a window seat overlooking the sea. The same seafront from the Lounge was more modulated and serene . A quiet tinkle of cutlery, a snow white tablecloth and the muted conversation were the only sounds. Outside, evening fell softly, the sky darkening and the sea gradually turning inky black. Small points of light from the yachts and the catamarans began twinkling. It felt as though we were far removed from everything, players in some elaborate tableau that had tuned sight, sound and smell to perfection.

It was such a different experience from the sunny afternoon we'd spent walking around the pier near Gateway. There were hawkers selling paper windmills that whirled merrily in the late afternoon sea breeze. Bored and lethargic beggars wandered about, foreign tourists in large sunglasses were enjoying the leisure of that hour. A clippety-clop announced a Victoria- those horse drawn carriages that visitors love. And the occasional Mercedes would swoosh past.

Choose your view. You can do that in Mumbai and not be damned for it. Or bothered or insulted or interfered with. If you want to watch the sea from the Taj, you can. If you prefer to wander around outside, that's ok too. The city is permissive and lets you be. That's why I love it and maybe that's why those people hate it. I have been trying to avoid the news channels, the reports and the stories but it hasn't really helped. There's a deep sense of regret now, and nagging questions about whether I can roam around those streets like I did before. I am unable to push those thoughts at the back of my mind, that dread and sadness keeps coming back.

When you ain't got nothing, you got nothing to lose.

Too much on my mind. I haven't updated LJ, not photographed anything lately because there have been some Big Doubts about work. Not to mention the parental nudges (shoves actually) for matrimony. The great Indian arranged marriage in all its self-assured normalizing glory. Well, I won't get into those travails here. But I have decided to update this space with some thoughts on the reading that I plan to do. I have come to the end of my course in Computational Linguistics. Unfortunately, instead of having a brain full of hope and exciting questions about future research, I am facing something similar to a void. No voices in the head, and no motivation to continue in the current field. Along with that, of course a cartload of guilt because, for some reason I should have a direction, a pursuit, a goal.

So far in academics, the promise of an interesting journey is what kept me motivated. Now it's as if I am facing a blank slate. I haven't given up on research, but I want to re-evaluate what I really want to work on. And now of course, it's harder because of time constraints, money etc. I suppose it's not a very unique situation. In any case, I have started reading (yes READING, remember how that felt before CL? ) linguistics to find some areas of research that interest me. Hope to update this blog more regularly now & I also hope to get some more clarity in this chaos.

On turning 26

If it’s true

that reflection makes you older

and not time

Then some of us are a thousand

or more and others just two or three.

As the years are discarded,

so are the old selves

each variously innocent or bitter.

You, burnished with

the wisdom of so many

abrasions, should feel

new and strong.

But experience is not

a new dimension. The morning’s

Still bright and hard-edged-

Voices hum, coins tinkle.

You smile, watching

An errant sunbeam

On a glossy leaf, as though

someone, as if by design

offered respite to those who are hopeful,

those who have remained.

IYL

For a while I was wondering whether to keep this as a topical blog or post some personal stuff in it as well. Neither seems to have happened! Today I felt like reviving this blog when I read a nice post on Language Log about 2008 as the International Year of Languages. I didn't know that! Apparently, linguists themselves seem to have woken up to this fact, although half of 2008 is past.

One of the suggestions in the post -to celebrate the occasion- was to visit language museums. What a great idea... I wonder whether there is such a thing in India. There would be so much to say and describe about Indian languages, India's sociolinguistic reality, its multilingualism. The thought of this is really exciting! What fun it would be to work on something like that!

While on a walk..

Drunken not down, originally uploaded by KittyKaht.

While on a walk in my hometown- Mumbai, we chanced upon this funnily named hairdresser. It was in Colaba, which is one of my favourite places to do nothing at all.

That weekend, it was Holi, so the name sounded even funnier :) We'd also downed a lot of beer and that could be an additional reason :)) Happy times.

Sun Peak Peach flavoured Boone's

Right, so I watched Juno and enjoyed it. The spunky Ellen Page, who apparently has quite the sense of humour in real life was cool though at first, a lot of the things she mentions in the film felt unfamiliar. The script is replete with references to American suburban life, artifacts, music, brands- Sunny D, Etch-a-Sketch, some kind of rope candy --all these were shown within the first few minutes. A few people on the Internet have criticised this name dropping as being too cute or unrealistic, but I thought it was an interesting device to use. In the process it sort of helped to place Juno in the context of a time & space perhaps intimately known to the writer. Juno went on a allusion spree for a lot of the movie, talking, talking about krakens, Harmony guitars, sacred vessels and The Goonies. (Yes, I had a gala time googling all those :P ). I think it's an effort to write a script that simultaneously documents all these elements and weaves them into something dramatic and breezy.

But is it something that a sixteen year old would say? It doesn't matter, I think. It's a film that makes a good use of the contrivance of the dialogue. I would imagine that the film would become terribly serious otherwise-- it's a bit like Life is Beautiful, where the Holocaust is presented with a light touch, without losing the humanity of the situation. In this case, the obscurity and unapologetic nature of the dialogues won me over. As also the ways in which Juno was allowed to speak her precocious mind in front of the adults in a situation where she was clearly the 'guilty party' :)

You want to know about Boone's? Here you go.

Nuit Blanche

This month has been quite depressing. I heard two pieces of news-- one of a suicide and another of a friend who had been taking sleeping pills and antidepressants for the last several months. Should events like these make you thankful that your sorrows are not as overwhelming or should they serve as a warning not to get too drawn into life's cares? There are so many uncertainties in every moment, nothing ever seems to settle into a comfortable groove. And yet, I think we have become set in our ways. Picking up the pieces, learning to continue even though there is little motivation is a kind of learned behaviour, an evolved survival tactic.

One also consciously stops and takes note of the small things for which there is much to be thankful about. You have to consciously make these interventions, 'rational incisions' as my professor used to say and not let go of the belief in yourself.

Of late I have been thinking about the concept of a personal god a lot more. The faith that tells you to believe in yourself is only strengthened by the idea of a personal god. It makes you believe in the infinitesimal ways in which you are always growing as a person. As Tagore said:

Lost Time

On many an idle day have I grieved over lost time.

But it is never lost, my lord.

Thou hast taken every moment of my life in thine own hands.

Hidden in the heart of things thou art nourishing seeds into sprouts,

buds into blossoms, and ripening flowers into fruitfulness.

I was tired and sleeping on my idle bed

and imagined all work had ceased.

In the morning I woke up

and found my garden full with wonders of flowers.