Food For Thought, Inpsiration, Random

First April Monday

The quiet of the house surrounds me at my favorite part of the day. Just me and my thoughts and laptop.  I put the timer on for 25 minutes. Each morning usually the same:   I do my Morning Pages from The Artists Way by Julia Cameron, then write the remaining of the time till the bell sounds. Those 25 minutes allowing me to just flow and put down my thoughts and fulfill part of my vision of being a writer.  It is that time when I truly feel like a writer, yet there is a growing urge that this time cannot remain private.

With the first quarter of the year done, it hits me that visions are completed with action. This first Monday of April is a reminder that only actions can move me forward not just wanting things to be  a certain way. It is a lonely road as many won’t or cannot understand my desire to better myself. It is never easy to explain what pushes me so towards this path of betterment.I don’t always succeeds, but those times that I do, I know I am on the right path.

So the quiet of the house supports me in writing even though sometimes it feels that no one else will.

Random

The Compass

Another week starts while the month is about to end. The same questions come up for me. What did I create so far? What will I create this month? Half of the year is gone, where am I at with my resolutions and all the thing other things I wanted to get done? For once, there is no hesitation. I am on the right path. To be sure, it hasn’t been easy, and there still ways to go, but the point is that I am going in the right direction. I no longer dawdle in a pool of uncertainty to not knowingness.

From worrying about finishing 5 essays, wondering if I will be ready for the marathon in October, figuring out where to take the wife out to vacation and working on getting new clients for my law practice, I now see that I am asking the right questions. Whereas before I fretted on where I wanted to go with my life, I now see that I am on a journey to be the best Sanjay I can be.  Have there been setbacks? Sure. Are there days I feel overwhelmed or not worth? All the time. But my compass points in the right direction and for now that’s all that matters.

Family, Myself, Random

Walking Dreams

A gray morning. Perfect for my fuzzy thoughts as I pulled Bella along our 2 mile walk (the pedometer on my iphone told me so). I wondered what my obsession was with tracking all that I did lately.  As if the pedometer made the walk real, or it made it more than me just being the valet for my dog to take her shits’ which I dutifully scooped up. Or perhaps it was a way to distract myself from seeing the hurt on my parent’s face as they still processed what someone close to us had done. We don’t mention their names anymore, but that doesn’t make them disappear, in fact, it makes the hurt deeper. Their recent actions now are scrutinized under new lenses, and it makes me wonder when they began resenting or perhaps even hating us to do this.  I want to ask why they didn’t tell us what they wanted, but maybe they didn’t want our input or perhaps wanted to get away from our shadow to mark their own territory.

Yet I know that stepping on someone’s back to get up maybe OK occasionally, but not to break it. Each day, I want to text or email them ranting away, but really it’s just pain I want to get out. The pain of lost holidays, and the loss of seeing their faces. The number of relationships that we thought were made of love now just a shared last name. And Bella keeps tugging, the pedometer keeps recording steps, and I struggle to be grateful for the rising sun, and the slowly awakening street. I as for forgiveness for my unkind thoughts, and ask for the strength to forgive who just threw away a relationship like an empty wrapper.

I turn on the app TuhiTuhi, and I get lost in the voice of Veer Manpreet Singh, and for the next 15 minutes I just listen with an open heart and express my gratitude for being still being on this earth, still having the ability to walk my dog just 9 months after brain surgery. It hits me that I am recording everything because I wish to remember that I am not sitting idle. I am not letting life pass by, but am trying to live it each day to the best of my ability. And at the end of the day, that’s all that matters.

Family, Myself, Random

Disconnected

English: on skullcandy
English: on skullcandy (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It was a beautiful morning yesterday.   Wisps of wind traveled around me, and the sun pierced jaggedly through scattered clouds. It was chilly by Southern California standards (69 degrees or so), but one filled with small bursts of heat. Bella was busy sniffing at each clump of grass as it was something wondrously new, and at that moment I could honestly say I was grateful for what I had in life. I saw this girl on a swing, going back and forth but something was different. She couldn’t have been more than 10, but she was glued to a phone. I wondered what had to happened to just experiencing things for what they are. What is this need to amplify every experience we have by posting it on social media or just mindlessly do it while we miss out on true beauty on us?  As I looked down upon her, my headphones squawked to let me know a call was coming. Shit! I had my headphones on, and while I defensively thought that I was listening to Shabads, the truth was that I was no different from that little girl.

It struck me that I have been walking for weeks, and because of my headphones, I barely managed a hello to strangers or to the old Indian cross guard who always smiles and seems like he wants to say something more to me. In a sense, I have been using the headphones to disconnect myself from the outside world.  I want that time to catch up on Umano or listen to Simran so as much as I would like to be friendlier, it struck me that I want these early morning walks just for me and Bella. As someone who has taken a break from social media, I find myself that I am no longer aimlessly scrolling through countless updates about what people had eaten for the day (something that I am notoriously guilty of doing myself), and that I have found other ways to fill in that empty time by catching up on the New Yorker, Men’s Fitness and Poet and Writers. It’s funny how more and more of us are becoming disconnected by posting things up on Social media in the hopes of finding validation. We are no longer engaging in conversations or connections. We are just pounding on the chest that we are HERE! LOOK AT ME!  At some point, that just doesn’t do it for me anymore.  Don’t get me wrong, I do miss knowing about friends and family, but I have found that I can always text or whatsapp them, and in the end that has made all the difference.

Myself, Preeti, Random

Bollywood And Bullshit

English: Indian actor Shahrukh Khan, arrival f...
English: Indian actor Shahrukh Khan, arrival for press conference of “Om Shanti Om” at the Hyatt Hotel, Potsdamer Platz, Berlin (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Mild Spoilers ahead. Also for those who don’t watch Bollywood, most of this will go over your head.

Preeti and I had the misfortune to go see Chennai Express. Within minutes of the movie starting, I knew it was going to be a  steaming pile of shit. However, we sat through the overacting by Shahrukh Khan and Deepika whatever her last name is (I am too lazy to go look it up), and I couldn’t help listening to the audience that was in the same theater with us. They were giggling and laughing away like it was the funniest movie they had ever seen. It hit me that perhaps they are such huge fans of SRK that seeing him in a comedy made more than worth their time. While I couldn’t help noticing how old he looked, and the fact that he had to quote his older movies to constantly remind us what a huge superstar he was, I couldn’t quite get over how disrespectful us North Indians are towards South Indians. The movie is full of every South Indian stereotype there is (idli anyone?), with a bare nod towards Rajnikanth  at the end with a song dedicated to him since he is a huge star there.

A quick glance at reviews online and I kept seeing the word escapism, visually arresting, blah blah. If you want to wade through glistening shit, this is the movie for you.  No matter what, with a big blockbuster like this, you can count on one or 2 songs being interesting especially the “masala” song which involves a girl with some flimsy clothes gyrating away as she has never gyrated before. It’s all in good nah. Never mind that it shows women nothing than sexual objects and things to look at.  God forbid, a Bollywood movie such as this show women as more than showpieces. Nope! Not happening.  Instead we get a mishmash of horrible songs, even worse dancing, and me wondering why the hell did I sit through 2 hours of utter bullshit.

I know that we all have different opinions, and perhaps I just couldn’t get past the over acting, but what really offended me is how we continue to watch Bollywood movies that are broadly stereotypical (a tamil speaking punjabi guy anyone?) and promote the idea that only particular north Indians are the true Indians. What a load of bullshit. We are better than this. Bollywood needs to get better before it truly become irrelevant to the next generation of South Asians.  [Rant done. Drops mike.]

Random

Bollywood High Heels

Bollywood & Beyond
Bollywood & Beyond (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

 

What is up with Bhangra songs and hindi lyrics and whats up with white people speaking hindi in Bollywood movies?  That’s what struck me as I went to watch Yeh Jawani Hai Deewani, and listened to Yo Yo Honey Singh‘s “High Heels” track with some painful hindi in it. I am the first one to admit that my hindi isn’t all that, but really trying to rap in hindi when your first language is something else is just plain dumb. The beat is catchy but wow can someone hire them a song writer or someone perhaps who can speak Hindi fluently at least?  Or perhaps it can be bad Punjabi like in Imran Khan‘s new track “Satifya” which really after 4 years is just Amplifier part 2.  What happened to meaningful lyrics and characters?  Which leads me to my next annoyance. What was up with the white people speaking in Yeh Jawani? I would think if it was pertinent to the story line, I would buy it, but to have them without so much as an explanation was just perplexing. I probably sound racist, but it just threw me off that there were white characters randomly in the movie who had substantial roles but no back-end story.  I need logic of some sort in my music and movies.

I have taken up my old passions and they are lacking, and it saddens me. I don’t even know where to find new desi urban music, and what am I finding is just plain unimaginative and not relevant to me.  Maybe I am just getting old.  Yes, or maybe I am old already. Either way it’s a sad.