Devil Works Inc.

It is time to share all the randomness that I experience in my life, at least that is my opinion. Ergo, I have decided to dedicate this blog to the workings of the Devil Works Inc. aka Mind Dearest.

I am a mind person. I think a lot, so much that if you stuck an electrode in my scalp and connected it to an electroencephalograph, it would be screaming activity! I tend to drift, and in all probability I go in a tangential direction when given a topic of discussion. Let me give you an example:

I could start off by looking out of the window. A beautiful day, perfect weather. Talking about the weather, I wonder what it would be like to live in sunny CA? Mmm.. CA, dint we get an opportunity to shift there? Speaking of shifting, God, how did I forget that we had some serious house switching to do this weekend? OO yea, weekend, I hope we go to TGIF this time, been a while since I ate Mozzarella sticks and beans, maybe I should try some fruity drink. Will make sure to say no spirit*. Good thing we don’t drink, my, that was an unfortunate incident for that Indian who was caught drunk driving. India, wow, it is more than a year since I left India? One year gone by huh? What did I do this past year?… and so on. If for some reason my thought process is disturbed, I generally pick up on another thread! Crazy huh? Well, I guess I am like that.

I find this facet of the human mind extremely interesting! I am actually beginning to sound like some experienced prof, don’t get carried away I often tend to have that effect on people, I’m not one! There, I am beginning to drift.. as I was saying, I really find this angle of the human mind intriguing. That something so intangible as the mind can actually have such effect on the behavior of an individual is creation at its best.

In my case, thanks to this little monkey, I am a slave to mood swings. So much that, one minute I feel invincible, and then before I can hold onto that feeling, I feel extremely vulnerable. This has had such an effect on me, that most times I’m lost in thoughts that are entangled in a narcissistic web. If you are beginning to wonder otherwise, I’m sane like any of you, just more self aware. I have accepted this me and I just know that at any given point in time, a thousand irrelevant thoughts is what I experience.

mommy tales

Motherhood, by definition means the state of being a mother, the qualities or spirit of a mother. And when I am so close to becoming one, I have decided to pay tribute to my mom and the in-numerous mother figures in my life. Not a tribute so to speak, but something of that sorts.

I haven't even completed my second trimester, and I already find motherhood extremely demanding! To begin with, morning sickness takes over most of your first trimester and before you know it, you are tackling raging pregnancy hormones (believe me there is nothing glamorous about acne!). Glowing skin, chocolate cravings and tra la la times are reel realities, they are terms that sound scrumptious in reading material. In my case, everything was happening in exponential terms. I had “extreme ”  morning sickness, something that lasted throughout the day and it was called hyperemesis. Just when I began to get comfortable with the fact that the worst was way behind me, I ended up with gallstones, meaning a surgery towards the end of my second trimester. Now, when I am entering my final trimester, all I can say is “What next?” Not to boast, but I have been through a lot, so much that I told my mum and grand-mum that on my baby’s birthday, they should make it a point to wish me! My smart granny had just one question to ask “What about all that your mom went through?”, to which her equally smart grand daughter answered “I was such a good little girl that I did not let her suffer?!” :P.

Having proven my credibility, I guess my appreciation will now seem genuine.

My mom is Victorian, if you get to know her, you will probably assume that she is a character out of a Jane Austen novel, "Prim and Propah!". She does not believe in DA (Display of Affection!) leave aside being made public, and if her only child (dear daughter) were to hug her, she would squirm, shrivel up and beg for distance! Mind you, that does not in the least mean that she doesn’t love me, she is just that way. If you ever get to watch the sitcom “Gilmore Girls”  you will probably understand my relation with my mom. Our relationship has all those idiosyncrasies in a mother daughter relationship. We share most of those “Emily-Lorelai” moments, sans all the bickering. About the bickering, to be perfectly honest, not totally, but most of it. I love my mom and I do enjoy spending my time with her. Our tea time moments are the best, we discuss/ dissect each other’s friends openly, I can hate hers and she can hate mine. Practically speaking, it is only when she begins to give me life lessons that I switch into “yawn” mode.

My grand-mum, on the other hand is a total darling. She loves to be hugged and I cuddle up to her all the time. Even if she does drift off sometimes on the essentials of good living, they always have a wonderful anecdote attached to it. They are just two different women, the two of them.

Along with these mommy figures, I have a  couple of doting aunts (If you are a PG Wodehouse fan, you would probably roll your eyes, but well mine aren’t like that!), some really loving teachers and an over protective headmistress. Yes, I am well looked out for. All these wonderful women, in their own way have put up with my incapabilities or have just been there for me during my tough times. Not until now have I wholly understood their significant input in my life. I guess, I will appreciate it even more as I  further progress into motherhood. 

Three months from now, when I have my little one to care for, I hope to emulate these women, to be as fun and as loving as them. Of course, I have probably inherited some of those quirks from them, but lets just hope that it is a long long time before I get to use that card on my baby.

empire state of mind

Another day had gone by with my job hunting prospects getting dimmer and the bills in my apartment piling higher. I sat on the park bench near the Brooklyn Bridge, Manhattan mocking me in the background, nothing special to get back to. My only consolation, a hot cup of freshly brewed hazelnut coffee and the warm summer breeze. The park bench is one of my favorite spots in the city, the sights of cyclists whizzing past me onto the bridge swearing at the tourists engrossed in recording their sweet moments on their camcorders, executives trudging after a long day, some to catch the ferry at the end of the bridge, some to catch the metro rail but all bound homeward. I sat there looking at the milieu of people around me, everybody with a purpose. I couldn't help thinking about my joblessness, I needed to collect my thoughts, I knew.

It has been three months since I came to the city, old dreams, new ideas but same old me, the stereotyped small towner. I have a degree in hand, a year's experience in a not so bad company, and still here I was wanting to make something out of my life. In the beginning, it all seemed to go by pretty easy. I stayed in a friend's apartment, they are always nice at the start, very understanding, no current bills to pay, no apartment rent to pitch in for, I was the guest, I just had to make sure that the door was locked when I left the house. That was for two weeks, and then my honeymoon was done. I wasn't going to take advantage of the situation either, so I offered to share the rent and the electricity bill. The food, we did not cook at home and we had our separate cell phones so that wasn't an issue. So it came to be that I shared a single bedroom apartment with another "tenant" equivalent to ex friend, while living in New York. I did not expect to get a job immediately but that it would take this long, I hadn't imagined.

The first month went by, the employers seemed pretty reasonable, they wanted somebody from a different technology, apparently that was the trend. By the second month, it was just pitiful nods. No, they would have hired me if I had come earlier, just last month there was a need for people with my background. When the third month came, I could feel their contemptuous stares "So what were you doing these two month of unemployment?" they'd ask. It is an exhausting exercise. Waking up every morning, full of hopes for a bright day ahead and then hopping from corporate to corporate, hoping that this would be the one, having your morale butchered, and then heading home, jobless. The time spent on the park bench with my evening coffee was the only part of the exercise that I enjoyed.

Today, nothing was any different. I saw what I had seen every single day through those months in the city. There were scores of people out there, just like me, living their lives aching to achieve what was thrust upon them. Destiny, like mine, had brought them here to New York. Everybody was walking along the rainbow trying to get to that pot of gold at the end. And then, my joblessness did not really seem that unfortunate. There was still hope, another bright new day ahead filled with possibilities. Come sunshine, I could still find that job that I dreamt of.

My cup of coffee done, I picked up my folder and laptop and walked towards the bridge, homeward, like I had done every other day in those three months with hope in my heart and a prayer on my lips. Somewhere in the park, I could hear a hobo singing my new favorite:

Concrete jungle where dreams are made of,

There's nothing you can't do,

Now you're in New York.

These streets will make you feel brand new,

The lights will inspire you,

Hear it for New York, New York, New York.