Restful (or Less?)

24 hours in a day – How royally do I waste it?

Sometimes, I manage to draw some semblance of good out of my day. I ate healthy, I had a stimulating conversation, I delivered a good piece of work, I worked out, I wrote something, I ran errands, I cooked a great lunch. Whatever. Something to make me feel good that I didn’t let the day go waste.

Nothing to write home about.

Many nights, even though the sleep comes easy, I find myself wondering what on earth did I accomplish in the 16 waking hours of my life that day beyond browsing Etsy and Buzzfeed! (No offence to either). What’s the word I yearn to use?

Constructive. Or Productive.

Funnily (or not), I hesitate to use those words out loud. Story time: I was 15 and on a school trip – an overnight to a village in Rajasthan. We were sitting at this spot all afternoon. Gossiping and playing cards. I became restless with the inactivity when there was a world to explore outside the guesthouse (or so I imagined). I just voiced out this one line in frustration, “Let’s just go and do something constructive, guys”. I never heard the end of whatever came through the laughter. The boring studious girl had spoken the boring studious lines as usual. Even my close friends couldn’t help a chuckle.

Till date, I am surprised by how easily that mildly mortifying feeling comes back to gnaw at me.

The point of my rambling is that I always get restless if I have not done SOMETHING! I can’t just let things go. Even on a holiday, I cannot relax and keep feeling wasteful. I wonder about the dozen things I could have done differently, to show something for my time and leave behind a piece of worthiness. To whom, is a very good question!

I don’t know. I don’t have any answers. Just a long list of could haves, should haves and would haves.


Put me out of my misery, will you?

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Precipice

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The wounds sneak up slowly.

The blade and the belt catch you unaware,

On the precipice of the cliff

And the free fall into the churning tides.

.

You don’t recognize the relief you seek.

Is it from the intense sting of your welts?

Or from the powerful current you can never take on?

Or from the pointed rocks that tempt you to end it all….


Thaw

It is slow. It is painful. It is unavoidable. It is welcome.

I am bending to the will of the increasing warmth of the sun. The clouds have broken through in a glorious display of song and dance, the memories of the frost all but forgotten. It feels like waking up from a long, tormented sleep where even nightmares would have been welcome instead of the blank lifeless vacuum that held no concept of meaning.

The blood is running through my fingers again as I furiously set the pen to paper. Doodles make way to letters and then somehow, magically, unfathomably, the letters are turning to words. I am afraid to stop writing lest the sunshine gets lost and I get frozen – suspended back into the land of the long winter.

Oh! I have missed being here. I have missed giving reign to my thoughts. I have missed the joy of not knowing which words my fingers might bleed. I have missed being envious of the brilliance of fellow bloggers and writers. I have missed being inspired.

It has been a long journey to open my blog again. For months I was contemplating, but I couldn’t turn it into a task. This place was always about choice, about joy and about freedom. I was loathe to make it into something akin to duty. My mind was numb. It was all about laundry lists and action items in the long journey of settling down which somehow never seemed to happen. It has been almost a year since I moved to Toronto and yet, my mind took its sweet time into making the city its own.

I don’t know when this city became home but I will tell you when I realized it – last Sunday. D and I took our first long vacation since moving here and got back on Sunday. That is when I equated the end of the vacation with coming back home. My condo and my city was what I wrapped around myself with a sense of comfort and security. This in turn, encouraged me to welcome myself back into my second home – this place 🙂

Let the good times begin! Happy Summer everyone 🙂 How have you been?

View from the Window

The images behind the frame have changed every few days, so much so that it is difficult to keep up. My only fear is that I shouldn’t forget the significance of each shifting view and what it meant for me.

Hi! Are you there, folks? It’s me, Prajakta 🙂 Fumbling over keystrokes – it takes 3 weeks to break a habit; I had almost three months to lose the grasp of a basic laptop! I am finally sitting in front of a laptop and it was a whirlwind ride to get here.

Let me cut to the chase – I have moved from Pune, India to Toronto, Canada. D and I got some fabulous news earlier this year in the form of our Permanent Residence and well, the rest is history. We literally moved lock, stock AND barrel to Toronto and are in the process of settling down. The apartment we have rented is slowly starting to look like a home, the cracks on the pavement outside the street are slowly becoming familiar, and more importantly, the aisles of the supermarket are becoming fast friends!

How did I get here? Well, I quit my job sometime earlier this year and decided to vacation for about two months in the US before hopping over to Toronto to join D. I was crashing at my sister’s in Houston while making trips to San Francisco, Chicago and Boston 🙂 Solo travelling was great but then, what the heart craves after a while is a steady pace with days spent in pajamas.

The reason I did not say anything here is that, well, I am stupid. I didn’t want to jinx anything. I was so scared of things not working out, of the job hunt turning desperate and of life becoming difficult that I just wanted to keep my mouth shut lest I bite my words in the future. I also want to say the biggest THANK YOU to Colin from meandray for being a fabulous help during the move! He was beyond kind and supportive during this transition, providing us with tidbits of information that made apartment hunting, understanding the public transport and the general neighborhoods so much easier. Once again, thank you!

Whew! How is everyone doing?

P.S. What a coincidence – I open my blog after months on my 4 Year anniversary on WordPress! I am in Kindergarten now 🙂

Raw Material

Today, she decided to try on the mauve cotton suit. It complemented her frame beautifully and brought out the depth of her eyes. Innocently, she went about her way when alas, the seams ripped open. Just like the other time, when her black denim jacket unraveling at the shoulders.

Her friend had been facing a similar problem with her clothes. One day it was the yellow chiffon dress that tore down her back while some days later, it was the blue silk skirt that frayed all around the hem. It seemed that the tacks and safety pins held only for sometime until the clothes eventually fell apart, worse than ever.

No matter how many times they tried to repair their garments, change their tailors, use assorted fabrics or try out different styles, they never really held together. It was a frustrating time. It was a bitter time. It was a puzzling time.

Only a close examination made them realize that the material of their clothes had been of poor quality, handled with little care and mended without a thought. Of course, their stitching was not going to hold for long when the material itself was falling to pieces.


Just like the law can only do so much. Unless the mindset changes, no number of death penalties and rulings can make an impact on the horrifying rape and molestation cases taking place in the country. In fact, I’ll go to the extent of saying that law is just an easy way out. It is WRONG as a solution. Fear of death should not be the check-post for a criminal! The law may work for two minutes, but unless we examine and address the fabric of society’s perceptions, I do not really see an end to the number of ‘Nirbhayas’ the nation is producing.