My SMI

Pre script : SMI = social media intervention. Lame as it may sound.


Henceforth, I am going to curb the urge to google/facebook search/linkedin search anyone I meet online, unless of course, I have to engage with them in some kind of work (work-work, creative collaboration, guidance, etc etc).
I am suffering from googling/linked in-ing any random person , remotely interesting. Yes I am trolling them in my own way. And I don't like it.


Because it leaves so less a chance for serendipity! Imagine meeting/chatting with someone and realizing you have so many friends/experiences in common, unconsciously. And horror of horrors imagine 'knowing' all this and then pretending you did not know anything beforehand, when the serendipitous facts come out tumbling by.
And sometimes I dont even want to know about any common stuff in any way. With some people its just the lesser the better.


Enough said.


~nightflier

Happy Gudi Padwa (In Pictures)

Happy New Year/Navreh/Nowruz/Ugadi etc etc to everyone :)
Wonderful how different parts of the world welcome the new season (spring) during the same time of the year :)


Maharashtrians erect a Gudi (as in the pictures) outside their homes, a symbol of prosperity, growth, one which wards off evil. 
Funny thing, I was giving sweets to the maid, in a bitter-feelings-inside-my-head mood, and she said in her blessings, 'may everything you wish for come true'. I instantly switched off my brain.
Who knows, what part of the blessing may come true :)


~nightflier

most of it is magic

Most of any kind of learning is magic. According to me. You read stuff, scribble it down, try to remember it by associating with random/routine phenomena, speak it out aloud in your head or otherwise.


And then the hiragana you write down everyday, starts making sense. 
It feels wondrous to me. How those random strokes mean 'something'. 

being a show-off :D

And this also makes me think that as a child, learning to write in any language must have felt so *Awesome*! Oh and all my illusions of great handwriting got auto shattered. Hiragana is artistic. Which means I am to have a tough time to reach that 'great handwriting' level. Nevertheless in the age of computing, writing in a 3 line notebook with a pencil, is hugely cathartic. Dont take it too seriously, but I feel wonderful after having written the entire alphabets in a single go, every morning. 


Of course, one can write means, one can read too. Now. It's just that the reading is laborious and halting. I know I will get to the fluency. It's all about practice after all. No ?


Speaking. Ah. The words cloud inside my head. Waiting to rain. Sometimes a line or two sprouts which makes sense. Sometimes, its just mumbling. The Sensei (teacher) is kinder. She immediately fills up for me (us in a group). She gives a 5 star (chocolate) too, if you excel in conversations. Excel here is strictly subjective. If there is just one group performing, of course you win. Yay!


I am the brightest kid in the other sensei's (teacher) session, who enlightens us on the cultural aspects and history of the place. We talk about Samurai and ninja warriors, the food, the films and modern history. Occasionally we watch movies/video clips too. In dimmed light. We shed tears on the nuclear bombing affair. We talk about grave of the fireflies and the phoenix. We start respecting people even more.


Nowadays I write emails in romaji to the sensei, with my doubts. Pretty soon I will be able to read too. And then may be a real Japanese book will happen. For now, I will stick to cartoons. They always have subtitles. #win


~nightflier

I belong to the cricketing nation!

I never call myself a cricket fan. Never have I understood the game in its full technicalities. I don't remember names of players except if I have a crush on them. I don't even care about the turn or the dead-ness of the pitch.

I lived outside India for 2 years sans cricket. I tried my hand at a lot of sports I did not fully understand or know before. We would sometimes watch the NBA or super bowl with friends. People of different nationalities trying to make home out of another country by accepting its culture. (I don't consider such people being show offs, I think trying to adapt to a countries' sports is very open minded) Something always felt amiss. Not in terms of differences but the feeling of belonging.

Now I have come back and trying to find my place here. I miss life back there. I sometimes feel like living in a cultural exile. You know trying to be at two places at the same time ?

Having been exposed to cricket from a very early age, thanks to overenthusiastic father and brother, who can watch any cricket game, old or live, and give you gyaan; not knowing cricket as I stated earlier, seems ridiculous. Moreover I did not turn out to be a devout India (or any team) supporter, in terms of knowledge, stats or talk. I have always felt left out somehow.

Today as the big India-Australia game unfolded, the three of us, I, pregnant friend and the baby (he/she) in her belly, shifted the entire house in front of the television set. Lunch happened way before 2.30 pm as we wanted to finish every related chore and be at peace while watching the match. Both of us on previous occasions have generously cursed the length of the game FYI. Today was going to be different, may be. We talked cricket, we discussed powerplays, the team selection, technicalities, statistics, the pitch, the crowd. In short we had opinion about every move of the Indian team. Unknowingly we were the very epitome of cricket fan-dom the country is proud of and famous for.

When things were not looking so bright, after the Gambhir run out, I even indulged in some small talk with the tv. With chants of 'Steady Bhuvan. Steady' and 'I will not move to pee until India reaches 200' the match progressed. In some other world the twitter time line was bursting with emotions. Every second of it. I would hastily snatch away the laptop from the friend who was working on a remote desktop and see how people were coping with the pressure.

And then the realization dawned. Even though I know not a single player's bio or the real stuff, the very obligation to have an opinion about cricket, without being asked for, makes me belong. To the cricketing nation. Sachin Tendulkar must be the very basic first reason. So much that, I indulge in bargains with the cricket god, fix matches sitting at home by offering the players a share of my awesome lauki (kaddu/doodhi) paratha, swear and curse (inside my head), gasp, do a little jig and duck when the watchman notices me, ...

The brother calls exactly 5 seconds after Yuvraj has hit a boundary. We congratulate each other (quite the filmy ones) and cut the call. A part of the self imposed (?) cultural exile seems to loosen itself. I feel like finding a connecting thread.

~nightflier