Signs of times

It is a past time of mine to take photographs of signs and notices. They are often sources of hilarity and some of them even make you want to meet the person who put up the sign. Somehow in my mind, they will have amazing trivia knowledge about comic books, will get all my obscure pop cultural references and we sing songs of merriment through the streets adhering to the standards of bollywood choreography.

Anyways, on to a few that has caught my eyes lately:

This tells me some awesome things about my colleagues. Yep, the sign was on the door of one of the ladies bathrooms in our office.

Somewhere in Nokia House is a chicca who knows her He-Man and has an amazing sense of humour. Future BFF, where are you?

Now, I am not sure if I want to be buddies with this person, but something tells me I better be, or else....

And if you are a Alto University student, this actually might be an innovative ad for a few swimming lessons, but why take the chance? Do the dishes.

However, the person who wrote the above must be good buddies with the person who wrote this one. Or it might be a frazzled teacher from Alto University. Or both.

Now, this is one sign that will always be close to my heart - this was done by a friend of mine on her last day in Helsinki around her neighborhood. You always made me feel mahtava, Candy.

A House and a Home

When I was a child, keeping your home impeccably clean was expected. We swept our house every day, mopped it every other day and made sure that every thing had a place and every thing was found in it's place. There was no excuse for clutter or chaos, and the house was always ready for unannounced visitors, as it is the norm in Kerala.

However, since having my own place, I found that I was not happy with a perpetually impeccable house. I wanted chaos, proof that people are invited and welcomed in. As I live by myself, I invite my friends over to help create clutter, re-branding the process of chaos as parties.

I have had friends of mine, who have never had the chance to break a plate deliberately do that in my place. I have had friends who made new friends, friends who met their soul mates and strangers who became friends during the parties. I have got good advice over a spicy dinner, listened to hopes, dreams and fears over plenty of beer and confided my hopes and insecurities over glasses of white. I have had after-parties and after-after-parties in my apartment. I have had us all drunk and all sober. I have had just one another person and thirty people in these get-togethers at various times.

The logistics of throwing a party notwithstanding, I am very grateful to all my guests whom I was lucky to entertain at home. I learnt about people, places and ideas and used them as sounding boards. But mostly, I just enjoy my time with them as they are lovely human beings.

So if you have ever came to my place for a party/dinner/lunch/game or movie evening; thank you for helping to make my house a home.

Year in retrospect

I have been working on a side project which was stalled for a while. And working on it everyday, putting in at least hundred words whether you like it or not means that blogging really really takes a back seat.

So, what did I do in 2009? In no particular order, some low/high lights of 2009:

• Fall in love with Helsinki and declare it home despite the tininess of the city, the freezing cold, the high cost of living and ignorance of the native language
• Enjoy my job
• Fall victim to common cold
• Do not fall victim to H1N1
• Go to Paris and fall in love with the city
• Donate at least 12 bag loads of clothes to charity
• Got for music concerts
• Watch Cirque De Soleil
• Celebrate a Finnish Christmas
• Be honorary god mother to cats
• Do a tai-chi course
• Shoot a shotgun, Glock and AK-47
• Go to Dharamsala
• Take parents on a weekend vacation
• Be rude to people who pity me for being single
• Be friends with a 3 year old even though we do not speak a common language ( unless you count shrieks as a language)

And more importantly, made really great friends this year. Yes, the best thing about 2009 are the friendships that the year brought with it. I would never say no to any part of the year, even the bad parts, as it brought a lot of amazing people into my life. I have been very lucky to have an abundance of friends, far away and near, of many years and relatively new, very young and very young at heart.

Enjoy 2010 everyone, and keep smiling!

If I could revist my past...

I would tell this to my 17 year old self, who was very Indian, very mallu.

1. Stop being so judgmental. Do not judge a person's morality by checking if they smoke, drink alcohol or have been in a physical relationship.While we are at it, relationships are supposed to be physical.



2. Love at first sight is a lie. Curiosity, attraction, and the feeling of 'I would like some of that' at first sight are all true. Do not confuse them with love.



3. Even though you look like the ugly duckling now, one day, you will be called beautiful in a regular basis.



4. Do not think that anyone over 23 is old. You will be older than that day, and feel younger than you were feeling now.



5. Do not waste your time changing yourself for anyone. Change as change happens to you.
   



6. Friends before gents, any time.
   



7. Value the honesty of your friends. Have friends who love you enough to be honest with you, not the ones who want to gloss over the truth.



8. Stand up for yourself. You don't have to make everything better for everyone.



9. You will never be cool.But you will be well liked and accepted by people who you think are cool.



10. You will have the satisfaction of obliquely giving the bird to those relatives who piss you off.

If you could time travel back ten years, what are the 10 things that you would tell your younger self?

Five Things I love about Finland...

Is a quiz on Facebook. Rather than clicking on images and posting it to my profile, I thought it would be better to write them down.

How do I love Finland? Let me count the ways... ( up to five .)

#5. Public transport. This is one of the most amazing public transport networks that I have ever seen. ( Amsterdam, London and Copenhagen also have very impressive transportation networks.) The buses, trams and trains are on time to a fault. And they are plenty, at least in Helsinki.

#4. Nature. I love the way Finns take care of nature. I love the micro gardens which peep over the balconies of apartments. I love the fact that they do not dump ice into the sea, but have separate areas for doing that.

#3. Work-life balance. I love it that my managers - past & present - trust me enough for me to work from wherever I want to. I love it that they take delight in the fact that I have a life outside of work. I love it that my colleagues - past and present - are well rounded people, people one can look up to and learn from.

#2. Friends. I love it that I have made new friends here. I love it that any given day, they reach out to me in real life or via interwebs. I love it that I have met kind, generous and smart human beings who dance to their own rythms and are cool in their own ways.

#1. Freedom. I love it that I can walk alone in the middle of the night and live alone in by myself in an apartment. I love it that I can go and buy alcohol on my own. I love it that I can go to a club and dance the night away, and the fact that men take a No as a No.


I think I found my summer love and he is called Helsinki.

open secret letter

There is music in the room. is a laptop where I can type, and there is food and wine in the next room.

And I want to blog now. It is geeky, and easy enough to type these things out than say them to the face of people you care about. So here goes. If you are reading these and feel like one or more of them applies to you, it probably does.

I want you to know that I am happy, and I want you to be happy too. I am sorry that my happiness does not include you in the core, but as a friend you will be there in the vicinity. I hope you find your someone special.

I want you, you, you and you to know that I take your advice to heart. That you are right and that is why, I will always listen to you guys n gals, even if you do always tell me what I need to hear.

I want you to know that I like how things are going, and yes, going with the flow and enjoying the moments is a great idea.

I want you to know I heard what happened to you and know that you don't want to talk about it. But in the middle of a drunken night, if you want to talk, you can always wake me up despite the time difference. We are friends, and relationships are not going to change that.

I want you to know - meh, I really don't care if you know or not.

I want you to know that I hate what you have become when I last met you, I wish you would live up to your dreams and not disappoint yourself.

Can we talk?

I read a lot. Online, off line.

When I used to read books, it was a two way conversation. The authors talked to me, and we were in no hurry.

Now, I read online mostly, and it is a shout out rather than a conversation.

If offline media was intimate conversations over a bottle of red wine when the light is slowly fading, online media is more like speed dating.

What are you saying?

Can I link/retweet/add to FF?

Nice meeting you - lets keep in touch via RSS.

This is the most laid back place I have ever lived. This place offers me refuge from the everyday annoyances which ate up my time in other places.

Why then, am I having the least number of conversations in this city?

By conversation, I do not mean talking and listening. I do that - I love to talk and to listen - and have been lucky enough to meet many people who indulge in that whim of mine.

By conversation, I want us to explore, in the span of few minutes or few hours, about things we have never thought of, experiences we never had, worlds which we never knew existed. I want us to debate and ask questions, to each other and to ourselves. Not all questions need to be answered though, nor we need to design a question for every answer.

I was us, not to care about the food and the drink, not get distracted by the music or the pretty sights around us. Or rather, I want us to get distracted, but only to the extent that it would lead to more conversation.

Now, the nature of such conversations have shifted. It depends on twitter's word count, and on whether you can access Jaiku. The silences which add texture to the conversations have all but disappeared.

And that is why, whenever people produce an invite for casual meetings, I always take it up even if it means having to stress out a bit with the logistics of juggling different conversations. That is exactly why, I get into CIA interrogation mode with many people. I am curious. I want to know. Tell me more.

And that is the reason for me going mute and getting lost inside my head in mid conversation. I am savoring the conversation we had, feeling it, understanding it.

So I thank you; those of you out there, who were kind enough to sit down with me and across me and have a conversation. I thank those of you who blog and are kind enough to share your blogs and thoughts with me about your country and culture. Thank you, to those who disregard the 140 character limit of Twitter and make me feel as if we are sipping hot beverages on a cool spring evening. Thank you to those who tell me their stories, opening my eyes to perspectives and thoughts I never realized existed.

I live in hope, of more interesting conversations to happen.

I just blogged, to say, I miss you...

I miss my friends.

Let me put it in context.

I had a great evening, and I miss my friends.

Of course, I have been meeting new people and making some friends here in Finland. Some nice ones. Some great ones even.

But man, I still miss my friends.

I miss my speed crazy companions who think nothing of going at 120Kmph in peak traffic in Blore. I miss my bike crazy friend who took me to watch the planes land from the highway, and then took me to one of the best bars in Delhi.

I miss my friend who always picked fights with me, matching me insult for insult, scream for scream. We are better friends now that we both passed out of that petri dish called MBA school.

I miss the idiots who would oversleep and forget to pick me up from the railway station. I miss the ones who cancel the predetermined meeting, and then pout when my plans do not turn around theirs. I miss my hug buddies. I miss the cribbers with their deep sighs and ' we are all going to die in the end anyway' attitude. I miss the friends who can and will polish off my food whatever much is left ( sometimes even before I am done). I miss my friends with whom I would get into impromptu wrestling matches.

I miss my friends who can match me drink for drink and take care of me once I am so drunk that I start seeing double. I miss the smokes. I miss the randy jokes that I crack with my friends. I miss being called out on my emotions by people who do not mince words. I miss being able to gossip over food and drink and then go and dance the night away like a gang of dervishes.

I miss going to movies and crying, laughing, heckling and sleeping through them with my friends. I miss going on trips with them, my head out of the car window . I miss reading Mills and Boons aloud in a group and dissolving into peals of laughter and adding exaggerated sounds effects to accompany the text.

I miss my friends who tell me to just have fun and embrace my inner Samantha. I miss my friends who can read my every emotion and casually talk me out of my moodiness. I miss my friends who give me drunk calls in the middle of the night so than we can talk about everything and nothing and whom I drunk dial back. I miss my friends who get scandalized of the things I do, but still, love me with their whole heart. I miss cribbing about Mallu culture and getting knowing, sympathetic nods from friends who have been through similar experiences. I miss going out with my friends, making up plans on the fly, never knowing where and how things are going to end.

Girls and boys, loves of my life, this one is for you.

Did I tell you how much I miss you?

I will tell you one, and you tell me another...

Many of my friends do not read fiction. They are exclusively non-fiction readers, who read to know, to think and to understand. They take a look at my book collection and change the subject. Archie comics are not great conversation starters except with 20 something females.


But they love to hear stories. Whenever I bond with my friends, it is over a story. It could be from their lives, from mine, or the stories from the life of a friend of a friend or a story that they have seen or heard, in turn.

Meeting with old friends always turn into story telling sessions. We ask about the major characters, do not forget the minor ones and listen to the introduction of newer characters. Some stories are left unfinished - or rather, they find their endings in limbo. And together we weave our stories of what was, what is and what will be.These are relationships that keep us strong, these are the stories that make us who we are. Sometimes we walk away from those stories, disowning the other characters, but we do remember the stories, and use them for our own How-To, and more often How-Not-To maps.

Meeting new friends is different, very much so. Each story that they do tell is like a tiny step that a very vary and very injured bunny take towards you. You never know how to react, you curb the instinct to reach out and touch it,as you will scare it away. You want to help, you want to be there, but trust has to be earned, stories have to be told, and all the time you have to keep in mind that the bunny may eventually go back into the wild. And you share your stories too, wondering if there is a common thread, and then realizing that a common thread, while bonding the stories together, is not necessary in itself. Transient relationships have a peculiar beauty of their own, something that you can never find in the comforting blanket of enduring friendships.And you will never know; until many months and many years have passed as to which of the new ones will metamorph into a beautiful butterfly and fly away, and which of them will be the bold squirrels who stick around and follow when you walk through the park.

And that brings us into unfinished stories. Some relationships are left halfway through. You never know why that friend never called again or why the other one wanted to end it all. You can never understand why this one changed so completely and why another one did not.Often, the unfinished stories are the ones you think of in completely random moments in your life, and slowly give up trying to figure out. You stop wondering if they were butterflies whom you thought were squirrels or squirrels who eventually moved away because you did not extend a hand.

So friends of old and new, friends to be and former friends; let us sit down once in a while, and just tell stories for a few laughs, shocks and tears.

It will be fun, I promise.

Walk in the night

I am a huge fan of walks in the night.

The roads glow orange. The streets are silent. The pathways show insomniac bunnies hopping away. There are not too many bugs to crowd around your head. The ducks and migratory water birds all sleep, their head tucked in between their wings and floating gently like diyas with the fire put out.

In a night walk, you can share the silence or reject a conversation. Words and feelings flow more freely, may be a bit more than what you would have been comfortable in the day light. Life is more clear, decisions come to you fare more easily, when you sit upon a cliff and look up at the stars.

Every step you take is an adventure. There are no lights, only shadows, and you feel your way around than seeing it. The wind is chillier and more sneaky, finding its ways to be closer to your body despite being fully covered.

The city lights reflect on the low clouds. One the walk back home, you have a little more time to think about the strangers who speed away on their vehicles, think about their stories.

And old songs come back to you, which you sing enthusiastically off key, comfortable with yourself and with the sweet mite of a girl who is a new friend.

Four little doggies

Riding a bike from 1030am to 0720pm; eventhough with brakes in between; is enough to make me tired. Never mind that one of my fellow bikers was calmly eating beef jerky and drinking cider (never heard of dehydration, that one!) and another is planning to go to a 40x2 Km bike trip to a national park and trekk there. They are ironmen ( and a wonder woman too was there) but I am only mortal.

And given my love of dogs, let me classify them with their canine counterparts.

The Labradore ( a golden one, this) had a cool time. He was able to push the grumpy old Jack Russell Terrier's buttons in a snap. He was very friendly with the chirpy Pekinese and the Big Alsatian. Despite the button pushing, the Terrier ultimately forgave him and bought him food.

The Pekinese was happy all around, and cooked lunch for the Terrier and the Lab. They both heped her, and she also fed some squirrels nuts with her hands. She invited the Alsatian over, and the four went cycling.

The Alsatian never barked. He was amused by the enthusiasm of the labradore and the tenacity of the Pekinese. The Terrier and him discussed their mother tongues.

The terrier was grumpy. She felt like giving the irritating lab a nip, an in a weak moment, did do that ( after fair amount of growling). The lab seemed not to mind. She had squirrels eating our of her hand, and staring at her eyes. The lab made her bark in the park too.

Like the opening lines of a joke....

A Finn, an American, A Russian, an Estonian, a Bangladeshi, a Swede, a Romanian, an Iranian and a few Indians walked into a bar on Friday. Actually it was the American's idea, but what started as a friendly, after salsa class discussion turned into two consecutive night-outs with living it up in Helsinki.

Notes from the parties:

Friday night saw one of the chiccas hopping on to the sound box and the window stills and shaking whatever she got. Doing this with utmost dedication with another chick from a nearby country and entertaining both the crowd inside and the men outside but facing the glass windows, she then proceeded to get drunk. The Indian men, seeing this probably for the first time, reacted in different ways - the unmarried, younger to me one was scandalized, the married with a kid one promptly followed suit and shook his bum at the onlookers outside the window, who hastily retreated.

Both the kids who are barely legal promptly fell for oldies in the group. The youngest chicca was living it up with the oldest man, and the boychick had the hots for a muccho hotter elder lady and was also eyeing another elder babe in the group. But the elder babe was apparently channeling her inner Samantha Jones and was happily giving 'may be I think you are cute.. may be' looks to many local boys. Many blushed, tried to cut her away from us friends and was cruelly rebuffed. But one guy had more guts - he joined the group, first making small chat with the guys in the gang. The lady asked him to get on top of the sound box and dance. This happened much earlier at the party, with people just getting into the groove. To his credit, he jumped onto the five feet tall box, grooved to the music like he made it. To her credit, when he jumped down, she danced with him and led him away for a chat. fifteen minutes later, we find her on a dinner booth, deep in conversation with the guy. She give him her phone number, ask him to give her a call, and coming back, continues shaking her booty. Boychick ignores her for the rest of the night.

Now this is late night / early morning depending on your POV, but I just have to type this out. I know that if I wait till morning, I am going to end up playing online games and/or read up blogs - and as usual, as soon as I reach the current dates, I will link them here.. I am meeting a lot of interesting people, and would like to talk about what they think/do than who they are - I have got my eye on a few....

And about tonight, will blog tomorrow...

Joan Brandwyn got it right

Ever heard of the Movie Mona Lisa Smile?

In the movie, there is an amazing scene, where Julia Roberts, the feminist teacher is distraught that one of her best students decided to get married. The student goes to her teacher, and tells her: "You're the one who said I could do anything I wanted. This is what I want."

Now that more and more of my friends are getting married and some are even proud mothers/ fathers of cute little ones, this is what I want to tell you.

Congratulations, for finding someone whom you love enough to take the plunge.

Congratulations, for trusting your parents enough to believe in arranged marriages.

Congratulations, for choosing to either work or to be a home-maker or to study - or even planning to do all of them together.

Congrats for allowing your partner the freedom to work and/or study, and for supporting them.

Congratulations, for bringing some very special people into the world, and helping them to grow up, and grow up well.

I am so happy for you all! We may not always have common topics to talk about, but we will still be friends.

And for the person who triggered the post: Baby Rat, Here's to you for a wonderful married life!

Bits n pieces

They say that sometimes the rules are to be bent, and one have to follow their own heart.

But when do you know that it's the right time?

May be the trick is to keep walking, let the tension build up, and to take the plunge when you cannot stand it no more.

Yesterday was raining. Yesterday I did not have a proper lunch. Yesterday I was wet and shivering and very close to a nice bout of pneumonia. Yesterday made my legs ache and head pound.

Yesterday was fun. Yesterday we walked around. Yesterday we shared rice cakes and cinnamon buns, with large cups of kahvi. Yesterday I got to know them a bit more better. Yesterday I rediscovered my current city through their eyes.

Often life is a symphony in contradictions.

Ratings

Weekend hiking trip : 8/10 in happiness

A wonderful sunset: 7/10 in peace

A melancholy song: 8/10 in nostalgia

A clue commented which made me go back to some verses about sweet memories and a circle of friends: priceless!

Four years back...

It has been almost four years since I started blogging.

When I started out, I thought I knew everything about Internet.

And today, I bemoaned the fact that ' I know nothing about the Internet.'

Still, my usage and discovery of internet is happening at a faster rate than what it was four years back.

Internet is now my primary medium for communication, entertainment and self discovery ( and self projection too).

However, during this time I realized that I opt for more and more real life experiences.

When I started as a know-it-all 21 year old and started blogging; there was a time when I used to interact more with my online readers than my real life friends.

I measured friendship on the basis of the number of comments that they added on each post. Suddenly, the time they spent on my blog was more important to me than the time they spent with me.

Thankfully, my friends thought nothing about tweaking my ear and pulling me out into the real life. Looking back, I think they provided me with a healthy appreciation of life and different options to spend my time.

So I guess I should be thanking the June 16 batch. Thanks guys; if not for you, my life would have flicked according to the whims of broadband which pumps webpages into my blood.

Groovy girl, groovy love

If I ever become famous enough for people to ask me about the souls who are my inspiration, chances are that I may not speak out her name. She is not the one with the greatest talent, beauty or intelligence. She is not on her way to be a hotshot career woman.

But if you ask me, I wish I had her qualities. Or one quality, rather. The courage to love completely, without fear or doubts, ready to not just look over the cliff, but jump down and then soar above.

She had loved a lot, and lost a lot of loves. She had walked with stumbling steps through the fogs of alcohol, heartbreak and trauma. I used to wonder how she coped. I who never prayed for a long long time compromised and told off God in slightly un-parliamentary language.

She went to a mediocre company, which tried to squeeze the very last ounce of life out of her in lieu of a paycheck. She rebelled. Dared not to take official calls on weekends and holidays. Made it a point to party.

It was in one of these parties that she met him. He was visiting our country, and came to the city where she was. Never mind that he was close to fifty. Never mind that her friends were wary. Some expressed it point blank, calling her crazy and stupid. Some remained silent, renewing their prayers, threatening the powers above with bodily harm if she is hurt again. ( I belonged to the second category.)

She went off with him to his country. Caused a small scandal it did, in our loosely knit tapestry of friends, acquaintances and enemies where affairs and breakups are common enough. She got married to him, and her happiness reaches us via her emails and chat messages.

She is in love, and all is well in the world.

I admire her courage to love without reservation, despite the way love had treated her shabbily in the past.

I respect the way she trusted her love to disregard the commonsense and logic which dictated that it was a foolish move.

I love the way she looked past the age and the grey hair directly into his heart.

Cate, I love the way you love him. Here's to you my friend; for a lifetime of love and happiness. I hope I learn from you to love the way you do. That when happiness catch up with me, I am ready to accept it than be afraid of being hurt or hurting and miss out one something really great.

Just like that...

Often, when you give up on life, life doesn't give up on you.

It hits your heart and head smack on and leave you zonked with the twists and turns that it bring forth.

I guess it is good to have a wish list and demand things from whomever is supposed to procure it for us - who knows, they may come true.

Calm and Sunshine...

Some days back, I was searching for a friend with the same spelling as yours.

You came to the screen, along with him. I send him the message that I wanted to send.

And for one last time, I decided to send you a message.

Without ego. Without hiding my anger. Or frustration. Of feeling stupid about the time I was not really in my best behavior. About the fact that I regretted that I said what I said and did what I did. Without glossing over that fact that you do mean something to me. Without forgetting the fact that I too, mean something to you. Remembering the good time we had. Doing a little bit of emotional blackmail in the process. Reminding you our deep friendship.

The next day you email me as if nothing has happened, asking for my mobile number. Three years since you talked to me; even though I had dropped seemingly offhand messages in your web page. You chose to ignore them. You too are an egotist.

I don't know when you are going to call me - probably in another two-three weeks? But I am happy that we have started talking again. After three years, what is two or three weeks between friends?

You brought out the most unselfish side of me out. You taught me to care for another person without caring about myself. You taught me about controlling my temper, overlooking faults. You also taught me about not losing my identity. You believed that I would do an MBA from a half decent business school - something a girl from a small town engineering college did not really believe in. I know that you have more faith in me than I have in myself.

Although the past years, our common friends have talked to me about you in an offhand way. They who knew how deep our friendship was. Each time, I did not talk more about it. To think that I could have met you when you were in this country... but no, my ego demanded to be fed.

I missed you my friend. I missed our esosteric discussions. I miss our intellectual duels on all the hazy subjects in the world. I miss getting mad at your deliberately scathing comments about women and all capitalistic endeavours. I miss getting worried over you, and fighting with other for you.

I am greatly looking forward to pull your leg about the fact that you are working in USA. Ha! Touche!!!

As I had told you, I have changed. Hair and clothes became shorter. Developed a taste for alcohol and bratty behaviour. Stopped thinking in our mother tongue -now I dream in English. Stopped being scandalized on seeing people have a beer and started enjoying single malts & t.

I wish I could meet up with you and swap stories over a drink or two. But for now, I am glad that we are starting chapter II of our idiosyncratic friendship.

Happy fish, sad fish

I miss Chennai.

The udupi hotel food, the low priced fruit shakes, the sea and the besant nagar sea bridge, the east cost road, the friends i had there, satyam theatre and Spencer plaza, the rains, the bike rides....

I miss Kerala.

The backwaters, the greenery in lavish abandon, the fish, the food, the underrated malabari biriyani with an egg, onion raita and yummy lemon pickle, the different pickles and fried tapioca, jackfruit, and what not, mashed tapioca, esoteric mallu breakfast of puttu, payar, kozhukatta, ada, jackfruits, various kinds of bananas, elephants, Rs 30 movie tickets...

I miss Jamshedpur.

The running into terabytes online movie collection, the roadside food experiences, the nights where i learnt to dance, the few friends and many acquaintances, the campus dogs, the beautiful streets and the houses, the riverside....

I miss Gurgaon.

The people in that office, the friends I have left there, the movies, the shopping malls, the hep eating and drinking holes, the all night parties, the all night drinking and talking sessions with work friends....


I will miss Kolkata.

College street, city centre, the old dilapidated houses, the white jamun, the roadside snacks whose name I always keep forgetting, the work, the responsibility that made me grow up....

I don't miss Chennai.

The dirt. The lack of water. The sweat.

I don't miss Kerala.

The leching men with hands like the tentacles of Medusa, who grope and grope and grope - till you either hit back or move away if possible. The apathy of the people around me. The pseudo intellectual crap of the arm chair activists which somehow irks more than the blatant commercialization of other cities.

I don't miss Jamshedpur.

The trying to fit in. The trying to be overly loyal and patriotic. The trying to put friendships and personal opinions above what needed to be said and done. The most times phony feeling of belonging.

I don't miss Gurgaon.

The feeling of being shouted at. The conflict between wanting my life back and not wanting to hurt my friends. The inability to again, take a stand for losing a friend. The overpriced everything.

I wont miss Kolkata.

The lack of friends. The people who try to make me dole out more just because I earn more. The selfishness and self centeredness of people whom I have met, interacted with, and who still think that they are doing me a favour. The lack of a shoulder to lean on at time, for sometimes professional and mostly non-professional guidance.