I've come here with no plan of what to say, just that I need to talk. The past couple of weeks have been... intense. I've been working unusually hard, sleeping less, thinking rather more than is my wont, and the strain is telling. I don't want a break, no. I'm enjoying what I'm doing and really, just want more of the same. I'm young and energetic and am finally, somewhat, coming in to my own. As I discussed with R, (who I've shamefully neglected for so long, I doubt I can even ask for forgiveness any more) I have a list of things I've always dreamt of doing. Now, I finally have the chance to pick up that list, dust off the cobwebs that've collected on its surface, and begin ticking things off.
I've begun the process, Reader, and it is both scary and exhilarating. But, as I'm also slowly discovering, I really can do all the things on that list. I need to break them down into component steps and evolve a plan of action, but really, five years of solving numericals make that part a piece of cake. As for the rest, I've taken a deep breath and plunged in. This is just me surfacing for air.

Fairy dust

Life is very interesting, isn't it, Reader? There's so much to see and do, that some days, sleep seems like a waste of time. I've done only the most mundane of things today. Walked the dog, gone to work, laughed with friends, read, cooked... But somehow, of late, it's like a handful of pixie dust has been flung into the mix, giving each activity a particular charm.

Foolish me. I didn't believe in fairies. 

It doesn't take much

Ah Reader, it's June and it is summer. The Amalta tree in our garden is blooming in an explosion of colour. Each day, the tree sheds a blanket of yellow flowers on the grass below, as if it knows that the green of the lawn sets off the flowers to perfection.

This morning, the wind lifted the flowers in the air and churned them in a mad dance, while one excited little dog chased after them. I watched and laughed till my sides ached. Each morning, after our walk, Panda and I play a game of catch in the lawn. I toss his yellow ring for him (A super-thoughtful present from G. It's still going strong now, months later) and he chases after it. Then, once he has it in his possession, he dodges nimbly around me, while I lunge and pant, trying to catch him. When I finally do, I retrieve the ring and throw it again.

At one point, he tires of it and collapses on the lawn, panting.

Today, I sat down next to him and watched the wind dance flowers across the lawn.

It's another of those nights, Reader. I have a to-do list before me, and long, uninterrupted night ahead. The dog kept me company for a while. Inspired by some rather questionable music, I picked him up and danced him around the room. As soon as I put him down, he retreated in disgust.
The LED marked "internet" on my modem is blinking frantically at me. It is the only movement around. The night is still and windless. I've already read all my favourite blogs, caught up on the news, abandoned a very soppy romance novel in disgust, and yes, danced with the dog. It's time to get to work, and yet, I find myself reluctant to begin.
I'm in a curious mood. I know what I need to do, but the doing is so hard. I wish I could throw prudence and caution and good sense to the winds, and march on, singing a song about following my dreams. I wish I could be spontaneous and passionate and unthinking of consequences. I'm tired of this, Reader... Of falling and getting up and dusting my knees and starting again. I want to sit in the mud for a while and have a good cry.
Then, I'll come back here, and sit down again, and work till dawn.

Snapshots of Chennai

I've been back from Chennai for almost two months now, and flipping through the images in my camera, I find plenty that I planned to share with you, but never did. So, quickly now, here goes:

I used to walk to Elliot's beach every weekend morning and run along the water. The stray dogs would be out at the time, sniffing through the leftovers of the previous night's revelry. When the tide comes in, all the footprints are washed away.

After my run, I would fortify myself with filter coffee at Murugan Idli, before the long walk back.

One weekend, I woke up at 4 am and went on a 48 km cycle ride with fifty other people, from Chennai to Mamallapuram. We watched the sun rise along the way.

It was about 7 am at this point and the day promised to be a scorcher.

At around kilometer number 39, I saw this lotus point on the opposite side of the road. After I parked my cycle on the left, it took me about five minutes to limp across the 15 foot road, to take this picture. I really ought to cycle more.

She was very nice about letting me take her picture. I, on the other hand, felt awfully touristy.

Kolams to decorate the house before the Savitri pooja. It's a festival when unmarried women and girls pray for the well-being of their future husbands... Or something like that... I was too busy giggling with my cousins to pay attention.

Ah, T Nagar. I could've spent a lot more time there. The shopping was lovely, the food good, and the sights, occasionally outrageous.

The evening before I left, we went to Elliot's beach again, ate chaat, south Indian style, and left our own footprints for the tide to wash away.

Oh and, I also had my fortune told. According to this lady, my future's pretty grim.

Tired already?

Oh Reader, I'm really not doing too well. After yet another late night, my little dog decided to be just as aggravating as he could. It got so bad that I found myself sitting on the floor at 4 am in tears, holding his face in my hands and begging, "Please, please stop barking. Let me sleep." It didn't work.
So it transpired that I was up at 6 am with red eyes, tying my shoelaces, while an infuriatingly cheerful dog capered around and did his best to pull them undone.
The morning was pleasant; it had drizzled in the night and though the day promised to be sunny, we still had another hour before the sun really decided to shine. Panda bounded in front of me; he has a certain dance-walk that never fails to make me smile. He hops around on his hind legs, only dropping his forepaws to the ground often enough to thrust himself up again. Mouth open and ears perky, it just might be the happiest I've ever seen any living creature. It never ceases to amaze me how little makes him happy. An early morning walk, a hearty lizard chase (don't ask) and these days, even an ice cube.
The walk was enlivened by the usual stray dogs who gave us chase for a couple of blocks and the gaggle of Generals out on their morning constitutional, who always address a remark to me, to which I always reply,"I beg your pardon?" while pulling out my headphones. They've already walked past by then, so I assume they don't require a reply.
There was the old german shepherd Panda's developed a tenuous friendship with. They pant at each other from opposite sides of the road.
We got home and Panda, out of sheer exuberance ran around in mad circles, between intervals of digging up the lawn while I puffed through my morning stretches. It was then time for his morning massage, something that's essential now, since it's moulting season. I rubbed him down in a cloud of dog hair, while he blissfully chewed on my shoelaces. Finally, it was time to go indoors, something he did disdainfully, leaving a trail of muddy paw prints for Amma to scold over and me to wipe down.
And then indoors, he collapsed below the sofa with a satisfied grunt, while I rushed about to get ready for work.

Panic

As I sat in a seminar today, the enormity of all I need to get done in the next three months finally dawned upon me. I live in a constant state of uncertainty, it is natural to me. But sometimes, there are too many variables and all my vague little equations refuse to balance, and I'm thrown off kilter. Half-asleep in the seminar, I subconsciously began a to-do list, becoming wider and wider awake as my list grew. 

I've been sick for the past couple of days, Reader. I spent them at home, doing nothing, believing it was okay to take a break from the life and the denial I was living in. Denial was still keeping me pretty busy. There were papers to write, a dog to walk, food to cook and a lot of tasks to ignore. 

Now, there's so much to do that I'm panicking. I cope in the only way I know, by working through the night. The night gives me some measure of control. Anything seems possible, if I just stay up long enough. Sleep deprivation is my penance, if I do enough of it, I will be rewarded with a tasks ticked off the to-do list. There's a snag here, of course. I need to actually do the things I'm going to check off, through the night, instead of read the news and listen to songs and write in my blog, in an effort to dull the panic.

I'd better get to it.