i am visiting the ashram and i am to go ‘upstairs’ to meet him. or her. i’m not quite sure. when i get to the room, it’s a vast room with some levels, and two ladies whispering in a corner. he pads majestically into my ken and approaches me. he’s huge, vast, powerful and extremely, intensely peaceful.

i hold my hand out and stroke he majestic neck. he glows from within his white fur light streaked with black lines.

my strong peaceful white tiger.

I re-found my blog, and found that i could still post. so yippee!!

There’s so much i haven’t shared with myself.. i have a small little virtual diary in my head now. i have a little baby too! although he doesn’t look like me, i think he likes me. i melt when i see him.. it’s so very strange, and i never thought i could love like this. and i think i love my husband even more than ever.. if that were possible.

How do i thank You? please be there, for me, not for me, but always. be around with your eternal grace. do You know that if i have a daughter next, in my heart, she will always be meera.

where do i start, dear heart? i don’t think it’s with me anymore. that heart. something happened to it. someone trampled all over it, then a new one grew from a tiny seedling, bursting with flowers and colours and fragrance. and now there’s a blooming heart again, which does get trampled upon, once in a while, but what’s some crushed grass after all!

husband love: check

baby love: check

so, what am i missing? i’d thought i’d whine a little, get the crushed grass out of my system, but look! there’s none! it’s all sprung back!

i have been scared for a very long time that i might not have children.

i have had a feeling for a long time that after marriage and when i am older, i will always be thinner than what i have been while growing up.. and this is surprisingly happening. but unpleasantly because i am not keeping very well. which is not fair because i want to be fit..

god. please stop this burning train.

i finally had a spcae of my own, without prying eyes. i never thought it would turn out to be such a comfort.. it’s not as if anyone really knows me here, or even has a clue about this one! the other one, someone could find out.. but especially after marriage, it’s become so dry and redundant. it’s strange, sometimes you simply dry up, there’s nothing to share, nothing to write. i was reading my oldest pink blog recently, it was shocking to see the level of writing – pleasantly, but a shock, because it was so vivid. and graphic. and so straight from the heart. there are no words, however for all the islly complicated emotions i go through all day now. the pleasures of being in a new family, ah, sarcasm! it’s not so new now.. it’s a year old, even older if you count from the date we got ‘fixed’ arranged…

i can’t get out of my mind all the ways we are different in. at times i feel like we’re a part of each other, at others, we couldn’t have been more apart. is it true that the faults you see in others are exactly the ones which are your greatest – and which yousometimes don’t recognise? my mind travels from one complaint to another point to another argument so easily, seamlessly, and silently, i don’t have the skill to put any of it down. i have stopped seeing as many colours as i used to. i have become unhealthy. i fear i am losing my patience.

i was not an angel, but now it’s come to point where i don’t know who or what i am. i have forgotten who i used to be. i have no ambition. i have no wish to ‘grow’ i have no plans in life, i have no wish to progress, i only wanted to be happy, and oh, god, is it really so very difficult amongst people you thought you loved? is it ture???

the real meaning of something torn apart, with no more knowledge of where or what or who or when.. i am going from one day to the next without any real sign of movement. i don’t know where i am going. i don’t know what i am doing. somehow things are just moving along. i don’t know if it with Your Grace, i don’t know how it happens.

i just want to put my head in Your lap, go back to being a child. put my head at Your feet, close my eyes.. you said You’ll always be there. for me, not for me .. but always there… where??

dad says i should concentrate in the centre of my heart… it hurts.

as of now, i’m really loving it. adrenalin levels are kind of high. work is going well.. i never knew i could enjoy it as much as i am .. mentioned this at the dinner table today.. that the one month of solitary (not so solitary however) time at home while parents were away.. this one month happened to me because i needed to see that i will definitely enjoy this work. and that maybe there really is nothing else i’d rather do. because it’s fun!

i hope to god that i get a chance to keep at it even after the wedding. and i know i know, all the wise men say it already, that it’s a matter of effort. if i make an effort, i can do it. i will. i will.

this has become a dear diary post. i kind of miss the previous virtual world kabootar khana i had.. but this is lovely too.. the look the feel. besides it’s green. not pink. not white.

did i ever mention that i’m in love with the guy i’m going to marry. it’s happening : )  oh, gleeful delight!!!

strange silly dream.

it was preceded by another where JKM requested us all students to go downstairs and remove all those advertising bilboards. heh! this is strange, downstairs, no one ever puts up any ads. .. but that’s what dreams are.. concoctions of our days feelings and experiences.

a house that was being built. windows that needed to be cut and made to fit. curves… driving up and down.. with him. a strange familiarity, a sense of closeness. a delight in the intimacy we almost didn’t share. or one that we almost shared. a memory of a dream held close to the heart.

you must choose you must choose you must choose

i feel old before i've even taken the first step. i feel contradictory. contradicted? there's an amazing thing about how wonderful things are happening that i hadn't even ever thought would have. italy? florence? i can't even say the words. i also know that pdy will never happen again. not in the next three years, realistically speaking. and by then, especially if we see the current speed of change, i won't be able to recognise myself. not recognise the beautiful place i loved. the childhood, the me that was. that's what is important to all of us.. the many me's we leave here and there.. dropping them on the way, like some leaves out of a loosely bound book that has so many pages and stories that we don't even know what we're losing everyday.

there's a presence already. around me… a very physical presence.

i come from a small town. i live in a small way. no big town road rage, no big town pressures, no ambitions, no career peer funny words in my life. in my ken. they're all alien. i believe in sharing. being open. gathering my people around me when i need them and spreading myself – my cheer, love, grins, whatevers – all the other time. i don't know what kind of a reception this gets. sometimes i feel some of the calls are an obligation.

i'm afraid. i've started taking sleeping pills. they'll stop when mom returns.

a sardar-ji, any sardar-ji, on foot, will flag down a single man on a bike or a scooter, and quickly take a lift till the next traffic light.

"o puttar, tu agge jaa raha hai, jaa pichhe?" hahahah!

another traffic related story. every morning at a quarter to eight, as i drive to the gym, i find myself behind, always behind, or almost overtaking, this trio of cyclists. sardars. milkmen. with their brass pots of milk flung across the backs of their cycles. and they always cycle quickly. happily joking amongst themselves. pretty. happy. good morning.