Between Nostalgia and the Not-so-algia..

Guess nostalgic feelings are pretty common if you have just relocated to a whole new place, from four years of sedation in fun and happy-go-luckiness. And I am no exception! But then, there are lots to enjoy and explore. And life is pretty easy and things are at easy access.

Buses are almost on time. People stand in queues. The seats are not broken. People don’t sit on the bus top and neither is the bus floor covered in vomit.

Roses grow over fences. Both, white Picket and wires. instead of our (spell check disabled) ‘bougainvillea’. And I guess, there are more varieties and colors of roses in three adjacent houses than in the Ooty botanical garden. Really.

This city is clean. The mayor doesn’t even know I exist or my blog. So forget bribing me. The tidiness is fact.

People are very, very friendly. Friendlier than many friends I have known.
The weather is superb. Summer has just set in. Warm days and not-so-nippy nights.. I like it.

The food is..mmm..too good I gained two kilos in 15 days! Something that Karunya couldn’t do in 4 years!!

This place is really nice, you know. I’m not sure if I wanna go back home.

But more often than not, memories flood and I feel like those are still real and happening in another part of the world and I just want to return to that sweet familiarity. Yeah,I know.. it is less credible than those space portals from the Hot Wheels movies. They are all over! Sad truth.. but..

Walking alone to the bus terminal.. How many times have I walked the college grounds with friends, cheer and laughter. There was company even to the toilet. Wow!!

Java.Oracle.Linux.Java.Eclipse.Oracle.Java. Huh! I remember the project semester. The “supervised” lab sessions when we sincerely played crosswords and that ‘tallying tables’ game. I remember Netbeans and OpenSuse. I remember the Unix labs. And the void inside everyone’s head. Including the lecturers’. How happy we all were. Wish I could relive those days. Just the same way!

Strogonoff, Baguette, Promotus, HotDogs, Pizzas. Nice food.. But it is just meat, meat and more meat everyday. I remember the mess food – Poori and Channa, that Sambar sadham with nei, Parotta-Curma, Cauliflower, Cutlet on Thursday evenings. I remember amma. She is the best cook in all the world. Wish she were here..or atleast one of those mess akkas. Sniff. Sniff.

I remember every day on the way to work, how we’d rather take the bus from CBE Junction to Karunya than spend 50 bucks on a shared taxi, back from home after holidays, once in three months. Here, my everyday bus fare is around 110 rupees! BUS FARE. EVERYDAY. DUH!

That six rupees ‘kuchi chips’ from the canteen. How many times has it been my dinner. And lunch! I happened to see a similar thing in a kutty shop here. I was so excited. Wow! Kuchi chips!!
Me: Quanto custo é isso?
ShopKeeper : Dois reais e vinte centavos. Voce quer?
Me : *Mental calculation : Twenty six twos are Fifty two..plus some six rupees.. woof!*.
(Out Loud, with a stupid smile) Não, Obrigada.
*Instructing brain : I think it’s better to wait till I get home. Will buy 10 kuchi chips packets for the same amount*.

And well, honestly, nostalgic or not-so-algic, I am waiting to get back home.

Wanna Be a Centurion!

Waking up every day to “Is this what you want to do with life?” is rather irritating. Because I know the answer but I don`t know what to do about it. And probably, I cannot do anything. ‘Coz there is nothing at all I can do without affecting a soul outside of mine, other than cutting my hair. And that’s what I did. Cut it twice in 15 days!
I lazily brush my teeth wondering why I spent four years and a huge chunk of my parents’ money on something I would come to so loathe.
Fifty minutes of my one hour travel to work, I condemn myself for having landed in this binary mess.
Eight hours of work, and every 15 minutes, I bleep on God’s reminder how I would religiously perform my duties as a community service volunteer.
I return home still figuring if I can ‘rollback’ to 2005. So, perhaps, I could make a choice I wouldn’t regret five years later.
I don’t want to spend all my life serializing objects or calling remote procedures. To me, it’s not all that exciting. Really.
I wonder why I am resolving problems for rich wireless telecom giants when all I ever want in life is help distribute rations to people in refugee camps, who do not have food to eat. Let alone cellular phone facilities.
Yeah, all right. I already hear: ‘So, Go ahead. Who the heck is stopping you?’ But then.. I don’t know.. Don’t think it is as easy as it appears. I don’t really mind the risk, but people aren’t toenails to just clip away. I don’t want my decisions to affect anyone. (Anyone = Father, Mother and to a small extent, Sister). And I am loaded with questions, questions and more questions.
Charity begins at home? So, moving toward what I call charity, running over the shattered plans and hearts of folks at home is a mean thing to do, right? Can I go my own way, without even caring to offer a token of loyalty? Isn’t that what they call being ungrateful? Is it my right and an act of faith to “follow and live my dream” or does it come at the cost of a couple of broken hearts?
Aah, how I wish the arms that always held and comforted me were open now! Rhetoric wish! At present, there is this huge sign that reads “Very High Voltage. Do not dare”. :(
Lord, dear Lord, I don’t ask for understanding and I am not asking that you give me answers. I am just asking that you give me faith. Faith to believe, even when I don’t see. Faith like the Centurion’s.