Being on various cold medications since the first weekend of October has its repercussions. Broncho dilators, as sweet as their original call of duty is, inadvertently are also vaso constrictors. Less blood flowing around leaves one feeling drained and sapped out. Breathing shallow or  not, while the antibiotic fights valiantly at the plethora of bacteria festering inside your sinuses, the body succumbs to all those gears shifting inside.

War will take its captives in all forms.

The physical line of defense, the drain from the limbs, the voice, the eyes, and ultimately the mind.

The mind still thinking it’s the boss of it all, continues to trick itself.

Humor chugs along till it gives up too.

I drove in to work today and after scavenging remnants of energy from the some hidden pockets, and hoping that a little creative surge would help propel things along, I now sit here tapping slowly at the keys.

Am drained.

I feel the need to give up. Holding on is just not much of a challenge anymore.

Physically at all that bind me down to this life, and emotionally on all whom I hold on to dearly.

..and I thought only viruses could do that to you! This bacteria seems quite virulent.

With halloween coming up tomorrow, I was torn between posting this fun ‘ghost’ song from the telugu movie – Geetanjali

and the scores of ghost songs and movies on the paranormal that bollywood produces, loves and thrives to a large extent. This song, however captures the essence of how the western world makes fun of the ones that cause nightmares and cold sweats.

Playing dress up is so much fun and we most certainly enjoy it as a family. Every year all of us at home make an effort to put on a wig, some paint or something comical to be someone else. Since a couple of years, the older kids are on their own, putting costumes together by just being necessary accessories than buying a whole costume kit. The munchkin has been a ladybug, a princess, a tinkerbell and this year declared she wanted to be a vampire. Till last evening when she says quite nonchalantly over dinner:

Mom, I think I changed my mind. I am going to be a fairy for halloween.

Daughter declares: Yes, mom, I need a tiara and those long white gloves, am going for this halloween party and am being a princess. Then she chuckles.

Son: Mommmy! I donno what to be for halloween, and o btw, should I be going to Francoise’ party?

Daughter: *bursting into giggles* Just go as yourself. She’ll like it.

Son decides he needs another day. His choices are “Illegal immigrant” ; “Nerd”; “Poor Indian Graduate Student (basically jeans and bata chappals – husband’s pictures from his school times helped) and “himself”

Mom has to scuttle to get those fairy wings and the white gloves and in the bargain decides she’d pick up a pitchfork. A long bought red horns, a pitchfork and a red fishnet stockings to go witha  red and black gown will be her cotume for tomorrow.

Definitely not as fun as being Joker of last year!

Husband decided he’d play the ‘man of the house’. In other words, responsible, mature and dressed in his own sensible self. Someone needs to be the guardian after all.

In teh meanwhile, last week we got “‘boo’d” – it’s a neighborhood fun tag. You pick a home, land some candy at their doorstep, and they pass it along to two other homes. Like creep up to their home in the dark and ring the doorbell and RUN! No one should know who tagged whom and you place a sign on yoru door stating you got ‘BOO-d’ Nice? As daughter helped explain to us in her usual satire: “Mom, we are finally accepted into the community! Hurrah!”

Here’s our boo bags and instructions, I thought it was a nice touch.

So what are you doing for halloween? It’s Saturday, though there could be some rain out here. No party, but I’l be dressing up as the devil (actually that should take no effort, coz well, am quite teh devil myself!) and hand them out goodies.

to posting every day:

1. Write at your choice of quiet times – it’s nights for me.
2. Write about everyday stuff, ones you can relate to, it’s a while lot easier than laboring through some thesis or political notion (unless that’s your thing)
3. Write small if necessary, every post doesn’t have to be a masterpiece (not that anyone’s aiming for even one!)
4. Create a schedule if that helps, like every Friday as a song day, or a joke day to end the week on a fun note or every Tuesday as a tag day (I got rid of 3!)
5. Write about current events. Every day the newspaper is full of whats happening at your neck of the woods: pick one that you can relate to.
6. Write about a forgotten art form, tradition or a ritual that you once took part in and don’t anymore. Better yet, write about a family tradition, based on culture or just something that you’ve started.
7. Bursts of writing happen, while some days are bleah. When you do feel chatty, write more than 1 post, and if you have a tendency to ramble, break it down!
8. post an interesting picture you took or saw, your take on it. Make it your own, add a dimension to it, the effort shows.
9. Write a review of a book, movie, a play or even of a product you’ve used. Once again, add your voice to it.
10. Always schedule ahead. Helps lessen stress (frankly, if blogging’s a hobby, there shouldn’t be, but if we are committed to wanting to post every day, it helps to plan ahead). I’d scheduled all my tags (Tuesdays) and the Friday (song) ones. Set it to post at the same time everyday. Consistency is a good thing when you are doing a series such as this.

Write freely, write for yourself (not always for your readers or entertainment value), and write what you are most familiar with. When one labors through a passage, it shows. Lessen expectations for yourself, not every post need be your best, it is practice that helps in the long run, and most importantly, make your posts yours. It should be distinct and spell a style that’s uniquely you.

If you can’t post everyday, give yourself a break and take that break. This isn’t a do or die, but more to exercise your writing skills. Whoever said ‘practice makes perfect’ surely knew his stuff.

The more you write, the better you get at it, even if you weren’t really trying!

today’s post – tactile -  is here.

the breed’s on the decline. rapidly. i speak of the ones that can give with the slightest hint of ‘need’ or ‘want’, the ones that can give without expectations, and the ones that thrive on ‘giving’.

i speak of simpler stuff that our everydays are made of.

smile, a kind word, a thoughtful gesture, a moment to stop and enquire.

i speak more of the art of giving without being asked.

someone tells me it’s a sign of weakness – to show that you care, that you are capable of giving and that stopping to do so only reveals a vulnerable side.

then again, have you noticed how when one does ‘give’ – literally, palm over palm, just because we are a visual clan and visual cues almost always helps light those ways; the act of giving always hints of a larger heart, person, character?

so no i don’t have the h1n1. i don’t even have the flu.

it’s just the damned sinuses again. they love me so much they’ve come back with a vengeance.

my head’s bursting at the temples, the eyes burneth, the throat’s raw and itchy, the voice is lost somewhere, there’s a rasping cough and my legs feel like lead – and the lady says i have sinusitis. nothing else. bah. all this after i drive myself precariously and gingerly drive the 3 miles to the doc’s. i mean, i even stopped at the yellow and behaved and didn’t jump the light.

so yes, am on Azithromycin – weird dosage – it’s an ugly large pill that tastes like cardboard, no matter how pink it looks. am also on this Cheratussin – cough syrup, clear liquid that is deceptively lethal in how it tastes.

the doc then lowers her voice and whispers conspiratorily: am giving you the one with codeine in it!’

the mom does need her drugs.

hallelujah.

next time, the pharmacists asks “any questions” , what do you do?

ask her? don’t.

coz i did, and she said ‘the directions are at the back’.

great. i know how to read and no am not visually impaired.

in the 15 minutes it took for them to fill in (i made a special request and declared that am dying and can’t stand idling the motor in the parking lot) i went over to the grocers and picked up some soup and salad. people stared at me as i plodded along doing the slowmo. like am in a 1930’s black and white movie and they were all the jetsons.

so anyways, being sick is no fun. am not going in to work tomorrow either. even if my head feels lighter. just for kicks.

ps: i actually wrote this sitting in the parking lot on the WP app. then I said ’save’ and it supposedly ’saved’ I have no idea where. couldn’t find it anywhere, so typed it again. feeling a bit peppy after that cough syrup.

not anymore. i retire.

ta!

am sick. again.

Have been having the sinusitis since the weekend of Columbus day – oct 10-11, and thought I was coming down with the flu of the season – h1n1. Went to the doctor and she chided me home with Sudafed (one with pseudoephidrine, the controlled substance). Ona side note, I found it extremely interesting that the pharmacies are keeping track of who buys that (drivers’ license numbers and all that).

After finishing a 24 pack, last saturday I croaked in for a prescription. This sinusitis was going nowhere, and I was feeling only marginally better. The sinuses were inflamed enough, the head felt like it was stuck in some dense clouds, throat was on fire, raspy voice. To top this, I have been ignoring an right upper arm ache from 3 weeks. It’s now spread onto teh shoulder and has been elevated to a pain. One that does not allow full range of motion and hurts when am horizontal.

Cold acks, tylenol and the large ugly amoxycilin has been my diet for the last week. Thought a few more days and I should be singing like a lark. I suppose the larks are a possessive lot, and so I was transpired against and developed a horrible cough last night. Didn’t sleep much.

In teh course of this, I realized that the whole of the last week I have been sleeping like a baby primarily due to Nyquil. I love that drug. Okay, I am a junkie, sue me. But on a serious note, that Nyquil should not be sold OTC. If I, a supposedly fairly educated with respect to drugs and medicines and body disorders can succumb to the lure of a peaceful sleep, I can nly imagine the folks who are less inclined to pain can go through. Abuse of drugs is a major concern and I see it everyday in what I do.

Anyways, so this morning, I cough, and splutter and manage my way to dance class. By 11, am ready to drop dead and come home and over the past hour have slowly developed chills, the throat’s still bad and my son’s declaed me to be ‘infectious’ and has quarantined me into my room. The rest of the family have gone on a much loved pleasure trip to the airport to drop mom off.

After moping miserably on the bed for an hour and trying to doodle on the newly downloaded iApp, I gave in, have swallowed a a hefty dose of Nyquil and was on my way up to mope again, when I saw the computer sitting alone.

Decided I’d just as well tell the Internet and garner some ‘aw’. The husband will return home and give me his “a sick little puppy” speech, and then everyone will disappear downstairs to do their things.

Bad time to fall sick. Very bad.

Oh, here, have a look at the very juvenile preliminary doodles I doodled last evening:

I promise more doodles of better caliber if am stuck in bed the rest of the day. Oh, I may even just post them, now that I have learnt how to post via WP app.How fun!

On the flip side, I have a feeling I won’t have to go to work tomorrow! Yay! *what? only kids get to feel happy they bunk school? humpff!*

Yesterday a friend from my dance group sent us a Youtube video of a popular show [India's got talent, similar to America's got talent] and with a jobless afternoon brewing, I went ahead and clicked. With just the visuals, I sat and watched in complete enthrallment for the 3 minutes it took for this group to present Hinduism’s most enacted, most read and discussed fundamental concept in a unique contemporary way!

The ten Avatars have been visualized and shown in various art forms. Dance of course being vibrant and immediately attractive, a tenacity that tends to draw in the audience, that perhaps few others offer. As far as I know, almost ALL of the eight classical dance forms [Bharatnatyam, Kuchipudi, Odissi, Kathakali, Mohiniattam, Kathak, Manipuri and the recent addition Sattriya] of India have a traditional well established dance pieces that are based on the 10 forms of the Lord.

Apart from the triumph of good over evil that is displayed in each form, when the Lord comes to rescue the world and its citizens, the Dasavatarams also shows evolution of the species as Darwin proposed.

This video however focused on the artistic ability to portray the same story that’s been told symbolically, with gestures, expression, drama and story-telling so far. It was contemporary in the way it was portrayed, the costumes (or lack thereof) the music, the visualization and enactment lifted these 3 minutes and separated them from all else done before!

The co-ordination, the fluid movements and the quick changes, and the final execution of the act, as much as it comes with years of practice and just being part of a troupe, this group shows an individual dedication in excellent cohesion.

Saw a couple of their other performances also on Youtube, and truly, they not only are worthy of a well deserved applause and win, but more exposure and success and I hope they do.

Enjoy, and if you are seeing it for the first time like me, I hope you are blown away too!

Okay, I had this lovely post all written up for you guys to read, but last evening as I drove home I listened to this piece of news and boy o boy, I HAD to post this one ahead! This is as juicy as it is interesting as it real. Civil rights story with so much room for argument, the kind where any bird-brain would immediately go “wtf” – and I rarely use language.

So this is the scene.

Close your eyes and imagine the scenario. Okay wait, read it all and then close your eyes.

• You are a 29 year old human. Man/woman, whatever, take your pick, coz it honestly doesn’t matter!
• The alarm goes off at 5.15 am.
• You wake up groggy, curse that it’s Wednesday and that there’s that darned work that you have to get to.
• Realize that a cup o joe would help you out and you saunter in to the kitchen.
• You are in your nightclothes. Okay, you sleep in the buff and so your jammies is essentially your skin.
• There are two windows in your kitchen that overlooks your lawn. The blinds are’nt on.

CUT to outside home.Now you are changing roles. You are a pedestrian, a mother with a 7 year old son.

• You are walking along the road at that ungodly hour (okay, you start work early, not a problem)
• You have your 7 year old son (2nd grader perhaps) with you at that ungodly hour
• You decide to cut across this neighbor’s lawn! (er, that’s not right, but it’s all in good faith, the community is a friendly lot)
• You look up and go “oo, thank heavens someone’s up at this ungodly hour and look at him busy in the kitchen!”
• Then you go “What the hey! I must be too close coz I see his but*! Goodness gracious, people these days, it’s frikkin 38 degrees and he walks around in his home without any clothes on.”
• Then you go “oh great, now little Johnny’s seeing him too! This is so not right. My poor baby’s not even up properly and he’s subjected to thsi kind of a skin-fest!”
• Then you go “How dare this guy walk around his kitchen n*de and subject me and my son to such indecent obsc*ne exposure! Instead of downplaying the whole scene and hurrying my son out of that area and swear never to cross anyone else’s lawns at weird hours, I am just going to dial the cops on him.”

There are some nice quips on this news article here and here and here, and a different viewpoint here, and a different time(8:30 am) which seems more likely and plausible for a mother to walk her son to the bus stop.  There are two different stories here and no matter which way you look, ultimately it boils down to the question:

Did the man make an effort to willfully NOT cover himself after knowing he could be watched?

So, what do you guys think?

Either way, don’t know about you, but am going to have to be careful while stepping out of the shower henceforth. There are these two windows in my bathroom that are only partially covered and overlook my neighbor’s roof, and just in case there’s a catburglar perched on it at 10 pm and he happens to look at me stepping out and then cry to the cops saying “omigod, my eyes, my poor eyes, God save my eyes after that fat woman with horrific cellulite folds on her showed herself to me!  Am scarred for the rest of my life!” and then the cops arrest me and then he sues me for the emotional trauma I inflicted.

Yeah?

So you have a friend. Over time you develop a rapport and an affinity and much to your own surprise, you open up and bare your soul. With the soul bared, there’s a nakedness that comes with it that no one else sees but to whom you bare it to. There’s an audacity in it. A strength, a liberty that’s empowered you and you act like your bared soul. The raw you. Say things the way they are. Nothing to mince around. Nothing to be politically correct about. Coz yes, there’s nothing left to hide. You’ve reached a complete state of oblivion, bliss and peace, that really, there is no other way to be.

One day, on questioning the friend tells as well. Among many other niceties, comes the real truth.

Says, the bareness that is shown is the cause of discomfort and hence a guard is up. A firewall to be careful and not to be their own self.

You are labeled “complicated”

That’s when you know that what you thought of being simple was not. That the world around is and that you are indeed “complicated”. To this friend.

So you close the door and go back to being simple. Coz there’s really no choice. The other door’s shut tight, and no amount of knocking, banging, asking, yelling or begging will crack it open. It’s sealed tight. You will never know why. It could be arrogance, it could be carelessness, it could be that priorities have changed. There’s a harsh incisive demeanor.

…and that’s how one stops making friends. Coz, everyone likes simple. Unchallenged. Plain. Easy. No effort necessary to break through. No interest than just to pass through fleeting. Like a co-passenger on the train. Nod, acknowledge and get off at your stop.

Simple and alone. It’s not you, but it can be you. If you try hard, that is. Try hard to not be you, but what everyone sees you as.

Wrenches my gut.

What’s it doing to you, if anything at all?