L'Ennui

– noun:
a feeling of utter weariness and discontent resulting from satiety or lack of interest; boredom:

- a word which very delicately yet effectively says, "I'm boooorred!" while taking an elegant sip of fizzy wine.

I look around me and see my friends all steeped in the same quagmire of ennui-dom. There are no movies to watch, the elections, IPL and American Idol are all over... and all of us (even people like me who weren't remotely involved in any of the three) are wondering "what's next?"

My day job has now been taken to a point of no recovery. I don't care anymore if i sell more toothpastes or soaps or medicines or insurance, or even that i need to try harder to sell more of the same for clients who are making them. Really. I'm pretty sure someone else can do a better job than me, and i'm not ashamed to admit it. It's truly soul-sucking to be considered a great salesman. It implies artifice. Yes, i'm knocking the great capitalist aim to increase profits and, in these days of the recession, it's bad manners to suggest that there's more to life... But really, i hope to God, there's more to mine.

Now all i need to do is become un-ennui-ed long enough to figure out what that may be.

Sigh.

Dreams...

Have you ever thought of what dreams may mean? Yes, as human beings we're cursed to search for meanings everywhere... but really, have you never had dreams that you were certain were ... something more... than just electrical impulses flowing through our synapses?

Just last night i was racing through just-partitioned India, part of the nascent BSF, trying to keep hurting, enraged de-homed hindustanis from killing each other. I was the only woman there, i was leading a group of scared yet valiant soldiers, determined to keep death at bay. And then i was shot for my efforts.

A few days before that, i was in college - an environment for the feminazis among us - trying to find a friend. I found a few people - the 'inner circle' - and i tried to convince them of the uselessness of trying to be separate... until i found my real friend... and understood the futility of trying to change anyone's mind through the over-hyped medium of conversation.

I called my friend yesterday, to hear how she was doing, Not very well, i'm afraid. Life has had it's way with her and, the knowledge that we had - that we would be fighting back with all our will - that knowledge has been proven false. She ... and i suppose I too, have realised that fighting back was never part of our deal. We're just the examples that are presented to the World. True story.

A couple of days ago, i had an impromptu discussion with my team about ... well.. "what's it all about?". I realised i don't believe in global warming, that i do hope that human beings are reaching a state of transcendence, that 2012 is the start of the Age of Aquarius and all the positivity it's the harbinger of, that telepathy and the extra-senses can be practised to be made perfect and that all of us are just searching for meaning in our lives.

Or maybe just searching for the experience of being alive.

Just thinking of you...

.... reminded me of myself.


Brief minutes of honesty


A few days of lingering passion


A few weeks of sweet romance


A few years of amusing regrets...


So many promises in one life...


And yet, she won't love me.


Thank you for the compliment, Mark.

"Love" or "In Love"?

What's with that distinction?? God knows i've used it myself over the years, usually to ward off unwanted advances from "friends". Apart from that, i've used the "we're friends!' clause too. But really, what's the deal??

I spent last weekend with three of my closest friends, one of whom is Megan. Megan completed her chemotherapy cycle a few weeks ago and is now working on building her strength and resilience to handle an 18 hour flight back to LA. We decided to pay her a last visit before she left... and even though i was a heartbeat away from canceling the whole thing, i'm so very glad i didn't. Because it has got me here, feeling happier than i've been in a long time.

The thing is, over the last few posts, i have been maudlin and angry and self-pitying. But three days with two guys, a girl and a household of parents, I see what a waste of time that has been. I have always prided myself on being "sorted" whatever that word may mean at different times of the day. I have been proud of my boundaries when it comes to friends, and been very self-critical about the kind of leeway i allow them when it comes to walking all over me.

But this weekend, i realised that that leeway is really what it's all about. We played "wake him up, he's trying to sleep" followed quickly by human trampoline and "what's there to eat even though we just ate" and "Who's the elbow rest" etc etc. Taboo was played with the usual fights and sulks and "you're cheating" accusations (all true). Outrageous requests were made every mealtime, and met without a raised eyebrow from anyone; we fought and made up and showered love on each other every minute of the three days.

And now i know what it is i really was talking about. I miss being held - not with lust but with affection. I miss being touched playfully, instead of with 'intention'. And i get really mad when my so-called friends don't telepathically understand that about me. The thing is - friends (that inner circle that really gets you) do instinctively understand what it is you need. The others - acquaintances - don't. And yet, we use the word "friend" so loosely that sooner or later, you just kind of ascribe those qualities to everyone and then get disappointed when they don't match up. or atleast i do. Or did (hopefully).

Yes, i know it's basic kindergarten kind of knowledge. But this weekend i realised that with friends, there is really no distinction when it comes to love. I love them... and am also a little bit in love with them. I don't know if that makes it simpler to forgive myself when i curse myself out for caring too much...

Blast from the Past

There is a common saying: If something's present in your life, it's because you brought it there, to learn something from it. If the same thing persists in your life, it just means you haven't learnt your lesson.

Keeping this thought in mind, i sat back and took a long hard look at my life. I find that as i've grown older, i've lost my ability to focus on the prize, quite happy to let Life have its way with me however it wants to. I marvel at the clarity of thought i used to have, my understanding of right and wrong, what is ok and what should not be tolerated, and i crave some of that again.

So... in a probably misguided step, i've decided to attempt being the person i was 15 years ago. And to do that, i have resolved to undertake a few things -

1) Get rid of the deadwood in my life. Deadwood is people / jobs / life situations that offer nothing but instead manage to suck me dry. Be ruthless.

2) Lose weight. This has been driving me wild - i'm 10 pounds overweight which really isn't much. But when i look in the mirror i see a humungous giant. I realise that my self-image needs recalibration, but until that happens, the gym and starvation it is.

3) A friend told me recently, "as long as you keep saying that you are okay with 'just sex', that's all you're gonna get. Say you want more, and immediately you'll see hordes of people just disappearing, and the ones who don't.. they're the ones you wanna keep. It will make you lonely, but it'll keep you unhurt." I'm gonna take her advice. No sex.

4) Finish off the basic structure of my stories BEFORE someone wants to buy them. It's always better to put my easy periods to better use than watching sitcoms.

5) Go to live music nights alone if i can't get a group to come along. Gotta do what you wanna do. It's the only way to happiness i've been told. It's scary... but then, gotta face your fears!

6) Keep expectations to a minimum.

Maybe this will help. Maybe it won't. I'll try anything.

Bereft

: To deprive and make desolate

He was a friend, until he proved otherwise.
I miss him.
And then i think, maybe he wasn't ever there.

Just Another Life.

She was 3 weeks old. Maybe she was the one who was supposed to be mine. I want to be able to feel something for that life, the life that wasn't. What did her existence mean, if it had to end in 3 weeks? Was there a purpose to the whole exercise? Why did she show up? And why did she have to leave? And i felt nothing except a mild discomfort. I look at the sky and think... if she was one born still... would that make me the walking dead?

Random Wrath II

I'm so pissed off!

a) i wasn't looking to form any attachment of the romantic kind with Alex. I was happy, and i knew that anything we attempted would fuck with the friendship. so i let it be.

b) But then he brought it to the table, and then he took it away because "it would affect the friendship". That was the second shortest 'relationship consideration' i've ever been subject to after Sam (20 minutes). What the hell??? Is it wrong for me to assume that the bloke should have thought it through before even involving me in this??? After i'd been saying it for so long already???

c) And now, he's hitting anything in sight. And it bothers me that i have to pretend to be the friend and listen to it!

And NO, I DON'T HAVE FEELINGS FOR HIM! Gosh! Just because i'm pissed off that a "friend" of mine treated me with such off-handedness doesn't mean cupid has struck, as my stupid other friend would want me to admit to!

Cupid wouldn't want me to be with a drunk, stoned, inconsistent guy who believes that the solution to everything is to get FUBAR'ed with a few nymphets, that it's ok to make me want something, however ephemerally, and then walk away, thinking it's gonna be ok.

God dammit!

Venus Turned Retrogade...

.. or something to that effect was in my horoscope a few days ago. It warned me about this time of conflicting emotions, where the battlefield was my psyche. As usual, i pooh-poohed the literature, and went hunting for proof.

I wasn't disappointed.

A few days ago, Alex decided to ask me out (my last post), after thinking about it for a couple of months. One would have thought that during those few months, he would have considered the dreaded possibility of what would happen to the friendship if the 'relationship' went up shit-creek. The fact that he still popped the question led me to believe that he had been convinced that there was no major reason for that to happen. Despite my reservations, his nonchalant approach to 'us' gave me confidence.

Then two days ago, on an impulsive whim, i went across to Delhi for a few drinks with a couple of my dearest friends. And while i was having a vodka, i realised that they were aware of my blog, and that they had read a few of the posts there - the ones they thought was about them. And i realised that despite knowing what i had written (and hence, really felt about one of our meetings), they hadn't let on ever.

See? conflict of emotion. On the one hand i was thrilled to see them, on the other i was mortified that i was the cause of any embarrassment to them... to him. And then i was astounded that the relationship hadn't changed, despite the truth. They hate me, they hate me not....

Then i went and hung out with my closest friend Meg. She has been successfully undergoing chemotherapy and was looking healthy when i reached. But then we got the news that the tumor marker test had come back very high... higher than it had been originally. Which basically meant that the cancer had grown and probably spread.

Things were stressed out in the household.

But when i got back home today, i got the news that the scan had come back clean. Hurrah! My friend is truly cancer-free!

As if these emotional upheavals weren't enough..

...on my first day back, Alex told me that he doesn't want to see me anymore. He, one of my closest friends, who has known me for a couple of years, finally discovered that he didn't want me... that the 'friendship' was worth more.. that we could gracefully end this... before either of us got really involved.

Maybe the sex was terrible (yes, that happened too.. a little too soon, even by my standards, but it did happen). Maybe he realised that there was no one he could speak with about 'us' without it affecting the entire dynamic of the common friends group. Maybe he just was never into me.

Whatever the reason, he is right. After all, i'd been saying the same thing for the last 6 months... obviously in latin, because he now FINALLY understood. Ok, so he understood it after I, in some tiny part of my brain, did give 'us' a chance... But he is right. As i was.

All for nothing because, whether i like it or not, the friendship has still changed. There is now a layer of deceit which will always be a part of what I say... as i pretend that i don't care.

Fuck!

Lesson: If the paper says life's gonna suck, you better believe it. Oh, and never, never, ever, never mix romance and friendship.

He is a friend...

He's a friend.
A very good friend.
He wants to date me.
He uses terms like "for the rest of my life" as if they're easy
They are easy, particularly when one doesn't mean them
Does he mean them?

He's a friend
A man whom i trust
A man i actually like
It's a two-year long friendship
Where every syllable of the word has been earned
Can i risk that?

He's a friend.
My heart doesn't flutter wildly when i think of him
It just beats with a deep assured thump
(And a slightly panicky 'lead in my stomach' arrhythmia)
Am i trying to convince myself?
Is this an opportunity to test the "ask questions first, fall in love later" philosophy?
Or do i reject him... just because i always do?

He's my friend
And he's always sweet to me
But he has an awful track record with his girlfriends (now ex's)
He has been described as mean, insulting and volatile
I've known him to be rude and indiscreet about them to his friends... my friends..
Do i risk joining that list?

Should i jump in and hope for the best?
Or should i just cease and desist, guaranteed in my current feeling of bonhomie, and wait for "Mr Perfect"?

This is when i need a definite sign from the Universe.

(I know this looks like it wants to be a poem... Fortunately, it isn't one.)

Get Over It.

I hate those three words. They are usually said when you really CAN'T get over something. That's why you're talking about it with someone... which gives that other person the chance to be condescendingly wise and say, "Get over it." I can't, dammit!

One of those many things i couldn't get over was my less-than-ideal relationship with my father. Usually, i just mentally shrug the thought away, be all cool about it and come up with cliches such as "It is what it is" and other such nonsense. But inside, i knew that i was hurting.

This particular soul-searching episode started on my birthday. Well actually, it was a few months before that when i realised that my once-in-two-years visitation with my Dad was coming up. He did the whole "i love you, i miss you" ending to the phonecall, and i found that i, for once, couldn't parrot back those lines to make him feel better. I mean, he didn't even know who the hell i was to be comfortable making those pronouncements. I was damned if i was going to continue paying lip-service to this non-starter of a relationship.

Anyway, speed-forwarding to my birthday: The day began with a two-hour long phonecall with my one-and-only brother. Now, things had been on pretty thin ice with him ever since the London trip, so it was good to be talking again. however, before i knew it, the conversation shifted to my relationship with dad, and how nervous i was about meeting him, and how i wished we could have an honest dialogue, etc etc. And suddenly, as if a nuclear bomb just went off, we were screaming at each other. He was yelling at me for not being completely honest about my fuck-ups with dad, and how i always blamed him for everything, etc... and then that conversation segued almost seamlessly into how Mom was the real screw-up in the family, and how she has changed me into a man-hating, closed-off woman.

It was ugly.

The day ended with my Mom and i fighting about how i could let my brother (and, by extension, my Dad) get to me like this. Hadn't she done her best to raise me? Hadn't she been a good mother? Did i regret choosing her as my parent? As expected, that conversation also moved very quickly into weep-territory. I was exhausted.

All i wanted was to have an honest conversation with my biological father, and see if i could get some kind of closure regarding my non-relationship with him. Was it so terrible a thing that i needed coaching lessons from my brother or emotional blackmail from my mom?

Anyway, that day i decided that come what may, this time, i will get to know my Dad, and i will let him get to know me. And then we'll see if a 'real relationship' is a possibility. Either ways, I was ok because i would know that i gave it my best shot.

Speed forwarding to D-day: I met my Dad and Susan, his wife, at Goa. And to cut a long boring story super short, i did what i promised myself i would do. I talked to him, I listened to what he said. I held no judgements till the time we came back. And this is what i realised:

My dad is... flawed. He seems to have almost-completely forgotten his 45 years in India in favor of the 18 years he spent in USA. From this, i gather that India must have been truly traumatic for him. I also realised that there is so little he remembers of our life together here, that he probably wasn't being deliberately hurtful. What a letdown. Imagine being totally jazzed about reliving your best/worst memories with the most significant man in your life, and hearing him say, "Really? we did that? huh."

So, i spent 4 days with my Dad and my step mom and discovered that while he wasn't someone i would go out of my way to stay in touch with, through some inexplicable twist of destiny, he had married someone who was.

And walking on the warm sands of Baga beach, watching the two of them together, i felt the bonds of angst melt away. In the end, thankfully, i got over it.

Another Year, Another Story

Nothing fills me with more optimism and enthusiasm and general love than the the start of a new year. It also allows me to take stock of the year gone by, and maybe learn something. So here goes - the last year can be categorised into hits and misses.


Hit: So many new friends! And rediscovered some old ones. And had some pretty decent nooky :-)

Miss: Not been in love even once this year.

Miss: Did not quit smoking.

Hit: Did not start on hard drugs.

Miss: One film released. Total disaster.

Hit: Written two cool (my personal opinion) films, waiting for them to hit the screens

Hit: My day job has been making my bank account look consistently good.

Miss: Just about sick of my day job.

Hit: Travelled to London and Scotland and discovered that they're my new favorite cities in the world.

Miss: HUGE fight with my brother in London.

Hit/Miss: Things are still where they were with Dad. I wonder if it's weird to have an expectation of 'love, understanding and support' from someone just because they're family. I wonder if he feels the same way about me.

Hit: Getting used to having my own place... I think this particular aspect has made me decidedly calmer.

Miss: Calm in another language would probably mean lazy.

Hit: Became an entrepreneur with a friend. Completed a couple of projects with the same.

Miss: Left the company after 3 months. No time and frankly no inclination.

Miss: My friend was diagnosed with ovarian cancer of the malignant kind.

Hit: She's on her way to full recovery right now

Hit: Watched some really cool movies and got introduced to some pretty good music

Hit/Miss: Watched a LOT of crap too. But it is one of my guilty pleasures.


Hmm... reading through my list, i've finally realised a few things.

a) 2008 wasn't the total success it seemed like it was going to be at its beginning, but then i guess that is the running motif of my life.

b) Money and sex don't seem to make me too happy, though they do help me avoid the abyss of depression

c) Working through the year has been a mixed blessing in a way. It gives me money and instantaneous satisfaction, but it doesn't seem to give me 'moments' which would make my year seem worthwhile.

Aaarrrrgh! Even as i wrote this last point, i realised what a totally ungrateful whiny person i sound like. So i'll make up for it by actually putting down the good, the bad and the ugly learnings from my day job:

The Good: Despite having NO background / qualification in graphic design, i got the opportunity to lead a great team of copywriters, concept developers and graphic designers, all in their early 20s, all of them enthusiastic about life, regardless of the cards that have been dealt them. Everyday, watching them work, individually and together, teaches me something about myself, and what i should aspire to. They've also been a bundle of laughs. AND, through them i have learnt how to put an abstract idea into visual form - it has been one of my greatest highs this year.

The Bad: Stupid people exist everywhere. I don't just mean IQ, but also their inability to respect other peoples' talents and flaws, and learn to work around them, inspire them to do their best. The fact that this job has made me face them on a daily basis has a positive side too though - my reservoirs of patience have increased manifold. I'm well on my way to achieving moksha

The Ugly: This year, i have seen my insane side - really, the side which reacts to extreme rage. It's not pretty.

But all in all, it's been a great year of learnings. Also, the fact that i'm writing this in the first week of the new year adds to my rose-tinted view of a year which I couldn't wait to get out of just a few days ago.


And my birthday's coming up too!

"The kingdom of heaven (and hell, i presume) is within you.."

This isn't a religious post. I personally don't believe much in religion, mainly because i find it slightly silly standing in front of a photograph / statue / engraving / book and praying for a miracle. Which doesn't mean i don't depend on miracles. Every day i get through without coming under a bus, or falling seriously ill, or getting fired - i consider that day miraculous. So yes, my life's blessed.

But coming back to the subject of my post: I just saw "Stigmata" for the 79th time. I usually watch the film to stare at Gabriel Byrne's good looking face as he plays the unbeddable priest conflicted about his faith. But this time, this line - "The kingdom of heaven is within you, and all around you..." - jumped out at me. It got me thinking about heaven, and then of hell. And then i read this:

Fathers and teacher
I ponder, "What is hell?"
I maintain it is
The suffering of being
Unable to love...
- Dostoevsky

Usually my blog is about carnality, some romance, but usually it's about when a boy met a girl, and me hoping for a romantic comedy ending instead of the usual alternative cinema "wha?" impasse and end credits. This time, however, I'm here to talk about my personal piece of hell i can't seem to put down.

Lately, i find myself unable to love. This phase began at the beginning of last month. I discovered that a supposedly benign growth in my friend's body was malignant and spreading. She had to lose her ability to bear children to save her own life. I know the choice seems like a no-brainer, but a week before the operation, she'd told me that she really hoped she wouldn't lose her ovaries. As she lay recovering under sedatives, all i wondered was what would happen to me if she died.

Then the terrorists picked that week to attack Bombay, a city I adore. Then my favorite 'father-figure' Uncle was diagnosed with a growth in his throat. And then my Boss at my event-management gig was a total prick to me. And my friend's father died after a year of suffering. Suddenly my job of planning events that would sell more FMCG products didn't seem like so meaningful after all. And i've been doing this for a year and a half now - longer than most of my long-term relationships. All of these things together have just somehow cauterised my sensory nerves, to the extent that i feel nothing really.. except maybe fatigue.

So i took a step back and took a long hard look at my life. I'm going to be 31. I'm sleeping with a 25 year old sweet boy with whom no matter how naked i get, i'm not ever intimate with. At the start of it all, he seemed to be the answer to my prayers - no strings attached fun times. But now, while the going is still good, it's.... pointless.

Everything seems just a little bit more pointless everyday. And somewhere in the middle of all this, i've misplaced my fearlessness. Every little thing strikes fear in my life - what will i do if my friend dies? Or my mom? If i die, will anyone notice me missing? Will i ever love again, like i used to? Like i used to have the energy to? Will i write that damn book or will i be the 'so much potential but all wasted' person one never hears about? I'm scared i shall never be able to love anything so deeply again that i will want to fight for it. And because of that, i shall waste away, slowly, minimally, every day, like a bit of dust blowing off the sand dunes of a desert, until there will be nothing there... and no one to even remember that it wasn't always this way.

I'm also scared that i don't know how to change this.

Drinking and Dialling

We have all done it - Had a few more drinks than necessary, looked around and seen happy couples, reacted to 'that song' which happened to play at just the right time and wondered where we had screwed up. Because we were alone despite all the chances we had had in our short lives. We tend to forget the details of the exact scenario, who had said or done what to whom, whose 'fault' it was... all those details become hazy in the fugue created by alcoholic fumes and romantic melodies and you reach for the phone.

Mistake.

Even as you scroll down to the number that you should ideally have deleted a long time ago, you know it's a move that you'll regret the next morning, but blaring more loudly in the foreground of that doubt is the thought, "If not now, then when? If not like this, then how?" Yes, at heart, I'm probably a chicken-shit, and without a generous amount of dutch courage flowing through my arteries, am only too happy pushing things under the proverbial carpet.

Last night, surrounded by a few friends and several acquaintances, something snapped inside me. I was coasting along, singing the songs, smiling and laughing when suddenly a voice from my 8-year-ago-love-past pinged me. "Hi, am in Pune. Was thinking of you. I still love you." Love? Really? It made me wonder if i even knew what it meant anymore. And quick on the heels of that particular thought, came the memory of another boy whom I had truly loved... enough to have let him walk away, and not shut down access lines. So, surrounded by youngsters who were playing the guitar and singing love songs, i picked up the phone and pinged him - "Right now. This minute. I miss you. I miss us."

Sweet, right? Atleast i'd like to believe so. He responded. I pinged back. And the next morning, when I woke up and read the other, increasingly maudlin messages I had sent, that screamed of loneliness and sadness, I was mortified. How could I? For someone who has been a proponent of the "I'll Survive" school of thought, what a terrible admission of frailty.

So the next day, i went red-faced with the effort of sweeping said mortification under yet another carpet and met a friend who sat me down and told me to get a grip on myself. His judgement was : "So you leaned on someone in a moment of weakness. So what? It means you're human." Yes i know it's human... but ... why him? Why a person whom i'd loved and lost? Why can't it be someone who is around, right now, right here? "Because you don't stick around long enough for someone to be around you."

Aww.. crap. Last thing i needed in this state was a reality check. The fact that he was kinda right is no excuse. To make a reeeaaalllly long story very short: boy met girl, got girl, dumped girl; then girl met boy, got boy, dumped boy, etc etc. This went on for a while until finally, girl figured that any guy she meets and gets is probably not the right guy for her. So as soon as she senses that she may get a boy, she bolts. Leaving her alone at parties wondering why she's alone.

Okay, yes i know the "The solution: don't bolt" theory. But the real situation is this: My whole life i've taken a fairly large section of responsibility for my actions. And hence, their consequences. So when faced with empirical evidence of multiple failures of a particular "fall in love first and ask questions later" strategy, I opted for the "ask questions first and then fall in love" modus operandi.

Mistake.

Because now, since i was already analytical about a person and a situation, just "feeling and going with the flow" was impossible. So we now had a girl who believed she could see through people, their pathetic attempts at 'wooing' her, the various pick-her-up strategies that ranged from "I'm such a cute cuddly guy" to "i'm such a super smart brainiac" to "i don't want you but you want me" to "sex is ok, after all this is the 21st century"... It was exhausting to constantly question and probe and seek the truth about peoples motivations - what do you truly want from me? Validation? Sex? Friendship? Sweetness? Devotion? What??? The bad news was that this MO provided no fool-proof clear-cut answers either and hence my analytical approach rejected them all. And it was impossible to stop.

So when i was drinking and dialling, surrounded by youngsters and music, i was actually reaching back to a time of my life, to a person who had just been, who had let me be, who had loved me and made no secret of the fact, whose assurance had carried us when my own was shaky, who took our future for granted, whom i never ever considered giving 'no' for an answer. It was a time of ease and of confidence in ourselves, not tainted by fear of loss, fear of rejection, fear of our own fallibility.

It was a time of youth. Sigh.

When You Gotta Go...

I smoke sometimes. Sometimes I smoke a lot. I also go for weeks without. This isn't a post about whether i'm an 'addicted' chain smoker or not. But i do get a few stares every now and then from people. One of the recent starers was a young thing at work. As i inhaled deeply while trying to solve the problems of the world in my mind by looking out of a grimy window, she said, "You mustn't smoke. It's not good for you." Usually i respond with a "I know. I'll stop soon." But that day, i actually envied her her whole assurance that she knew the answers, that she knew for certain that some things are good and some things are bad and there can be no compromise. I hated the fact that i used to be her at some point, and now i wasn't, and no matter how hard i try, i never will be.

So I asked her why she felt smoking was so bad. She looked surprised that in today's day and age, any educated person would even dare question that axiom of life. Her entire expression communicated 'what an idiot' - her judgement of me. I don't blame her. But she was young and i'm almost her boss, so she seemed hesitant about stating the obvious.

I said, "Do you smoke?
No.
Do you drink?
No.
Do you drive rashly?
No, i don't even drive! (giggle)
Do you eat red meat?
I am a vegetarian
Very good. Do you do drugs?
(gasp!!) Never!
Not even combiflam? (i was smiling)
Ohh.. like that.. i thought you know....
Yes, I know. You are right. You live a clean, healthy, perfect life.
She nodded vigorously.
And yet, you too shall die.

The change of her expression is usually the stuff that the best jokes are made of. But as she stared at me as if I was some crazy woman who had poured my hopelessness into her, i felt bad. I laughed, and she laughed too, and i went back to smoking, and she went back indoors to her computer, but i know that there was no need for me to dump on her like that.

Yesterday i attended my uncle's funeral. It's the first funeral i have ever been a part of. We weren't very close, but he was a warm person in whose company i have spent a few blissful hours. I am infact very close to his sisters and his kids - my cousins - which would explain my presence there (apart from the usual "family" thing). He smoked heavily for the last 45 years of his life. Predictably, his lungs gave up on him. There is a ring of 'karmic bells' but then i've seen my grandfather die - a healthy man who, at the age of 75, was stronger than most people my age - of throat cancer. I also have a friend who had a heart attack when he was 27, and another person i almost knew who died while mountain climbing.

My point? When it's time, it's time. There's not much one can do about that, despite age miracles and stem-cell whatchamacallits. But we can do a lot for the living. At my uncle's funeral, there was deep grief, many tears, AND rolling-on-the-floor-telling-hysterical-jokes-and-laughing. It's probably due to the fact that my family's average IQ is in the 140s, or probably because it was too soon for us to really react 'appropriately'. Whatever be the case, what was fantastic was that we were all in this together, for better or worse. I am not kidding, my family is who i would want around me if the sky fell on my head.

Because when i die - be it of lung cancer, or breast cancer (now, that would be ironic), liver disease or chronic old age - i hope it's in my sleep and that i leave behind a family that would get drunk and laugh that day and stiff my credit card company for it.