Decmber

About December or in December? Let's see now. I love December it's my fav month. I used to have so much fun once it would come to this time of the year. Making th crib and decorations. Church- choir practice, youth practise. Getting together to do some activities. We used to not go for dances or parties but we had so much fun. I enjoyed my time with Revora Youth. And the picnics. What a thing it was! Now its all blurring up into 1 memory. I used to not think of dressing up grandly or mak eup or looking good. Well to a certain extent but not like now.

Now its December and Im wondering what clothes do I have. I need to buy make up. What'll fit me. That's the greatest worry. Dressing up and going for weddings. Stuffy weddings where we will shiver. And dance n go home and sleep a discontented sleep.

The weather is cool and hot at the same time. Can't go out. That day's night trip was a bad idea. Im  so tired. This is not blog stuff. Blogs have to be interesting. About something not just rambling junk. Let me b gone to my thoughts and 'Great Expectations'.

Of Music at Baywatch

I seem to live for Saturdays. They are the climax of my week. When Sunday comes I'm winding down. What's so special about Saturday? Baywatch Nights. Royan, Savio and I discovered it. But Royan and I haven't missed a single show since we began goin there. I don't even remember when. Last weekend there was fusion music. It was a band called 'Shanti'. There was a guy on sitar and there were drums and the bass guitar. The music was beautiful. I always loved the sound of the sitar, but hearing it this way made my skin crawl with pleasure. Then the guy on the guitar played the cello. It didn't look like the normal one, whose body looks like an enlarged violin. But this was an electric cello. It sounded so beautiful. He plucked the strings and he also played it with a bow. Lino used to play for a fusin band when I met him, he used to always ask me to come see him perform. I felt like it was an opportunity wasted. I would have fallen in love with the music even then.

Every Saturday it's different. The classical rock with Noel Da cunha was electrifying. It wasa pleasure to see Royan in his element. He exuded his enthusiam to all of us. He was even sending out waves to Noel who later came to thank him. He inspired him, he said. And after that with 'Electric Pulse', I was almost head- banging, but shyness overcame me and I kept myself in restraint. It was an enjoyable evening with us laughin at the funny drummer, who kept passing funny remarks. I think his name is Jonathan.

Other evenings were not as good, but they were relaxing. Even though on the Jazz night we had an argument ith a drunk woman about a chair.

Looking forward to tomorrow. Russell will be there. Will he enjoy it? His taste in music is weird. But it seems to be changing. We think there's a girl involved. Wink...wink!

Reading my old post, Man, I used to be inspired! Woke up today with the urgency of aan almost over flowing bladder. Was feeling quite ill, yet came, thinking I'll leave early. But 1/4 to 2 pm and am still here. Talent Fiesta! Am so happy to be in charge of something. Its like I can give off some of my knowlege. But then there's always the fear of not doing the right thing. What is that saying....with authority comes great responsibility. Have I just made it up? But you know what I mean to say, right?

Why this dearth of thoughts, aren't there any more ideas to come slipping down my mind? But am being called to a million things. Suddenly I am the one taking decisions. After France I feel I havent written anything worthwhile. Daily life's a challenge, but it' s routine. Thinking about new recipies. That takes up most of my afternoon and evening. And then Hoping for some good words of praise. Just lying on the sofa, watching One Tree Hill. Treasured moments.

I know why, now i have to interact more, inspiration comes to lonely people. Well not lonely but alone!

A new place a new experience. Lots has changed. But am I still me? I haven't writing. Reading to a minimum. I suddenly feel like before I used to have all the time in the world. Now I'm feeling like writing and thee are disturbing sounds around me. Its like a barrier to my thoughts. They are pushing but the barrier of noise is stronger. Its been so long since I wrote. And yet no thoughts flow from my over busy mind. Have I ceased to think like I used to think before? Writing used to define me. But now its missing and I feel like something is lacking. I look forward only to Saturdays. When its over I'm always a little depressed. I need to write a blog about Saturdays. I don't care if no one reads. Yet I want feed back. Do we hunger for praise? I think I want it. When Royan eats the food I cook. When i write something for the school. Not one person said anything to me about my article on Goa. I am tensed most of the time, I feel. Wanting someone to reciprocate my emotions. And devouring it hungrily when it comes to me. I feel I was inspired before, now I lack it. Like an orchid kept away from the sunshine.

It's been ages since i blogged. Suddenly this site came up, and I thought why not. I doubt anyone will ever read this. It doesn't matter now, does it? I miss discussing things with people. Important things. Not something that's got anything to do with me or you, or anybody...what I'm saying, is that I miss talking about n'import quoi to someone just like that. I love the whole idea of going to a new place, meeting new people. Being secure with a friend or tow who you know you can depend on. At the same time, getting to know someone new. Making new ties, new people to join you on facebook, maybe. Or just someone who you can say months latter that you had a kind off past. Yet the sad parts are when they do not see it the way you did. And expect more. You never asked for anything complicated now they make it that way and then, they just leave. With no return address. And stupid me, wonders if I'll ever see or hear from them again! But it wasn't me who asked for this! Life! Now am wondering where i will go next. New people again? Maybe new thoughts to unravel or just to explore something different.

This is not helping. Looking at facebook n typing a blog. I need to get it out. Writing has gone back to paper. I seem to connect more that way. It just happened that the other day Dylan asked me why I hadn't written here, so I thought of doing this again. And then am flooded with things to write about. I know i have to continue with my French account. But then i have to do that sometime later, I guess.

To say about coming home... It's been exactly 2 months that I'm here. Had thought I would be back, settle into a nice job. Have loads of fun with friends. Go for movies. Some trips to the beach. Catch up on loads of news. And feast on Goan food.

Well none of that happened. At least not in the magnitude expected. Met friends, yes. But also realized that life is stranger than I last thought it strange. People seem closer when you are far away. Or is it me? loneliness strikes you right in the middle of a crowd. This music from pearl harbor, hauntingly beautiful, is not helping at all. And now the tone i had set aside, again is eating into me.

Had thought about being a teacher. Teaching is a vocation. And I think I really have it. Never feel happier than when I am in a class reading out a lesson to a class of 12 year olds. Trying my best to make it interesting to them. And then they laugh at my jokes. Listen to my explanations giving their own suggestions. And then of course there are those questions. Mostly nonsensical ones. But I love them. And then today was the farewell party of one of the teachers. She had been teaching primary school children for the last 40 years. Believe me it's feat. 1st std kids. It's so frustrating when you can't understand them. They are adorable and you want to do everything to be there for them, but when they want something out of your reach, you are helpless to do anything to pacify them.

So Now am still a teacher. Teaching kids and loving it.

French Engravings- Chapter One - Before the begining

It's been a while! And not because i didn't have things to write in fact lots has been happening. Happy things of course. Everytime I do something. Go somewhere, experience a new thing, I want to write about it. Maybe just because I want to freeze the moment. Moments rather. Or maybe just like all the pictures I keep taking all the time, I want to write about it. Besides haven't been able to capture thoughts in the pictures. I can just ramble, can't I?

Was thinking maybe I'll title the post French Impressions. But then it would have to be a super long post. Maybe I'll put it into parts. But French Impressions sounds too common. So settled on French Engravings. It has to be something deep doesn't it? Impressions are made on a surface, to engrave you need to change the surface.

Before coming to France, what did I think of the French? I hadn't met that many French people. And even those that I had met hadn't really interacted deeply with them. With the exception of David. And even he not really enough to form an impression of all French people. Oh yes I heard a lot. and like everyone forms their stereotypes I'd heard about the romance, the smooth talkers, the high fashion. I'd begun looking at non- Goans in Goa in a differnt light. Imagining that is how I would be in a different land. Would they call us 'Bloody Indians'?

And then they are a cold race. And my eternal worry of being a misfit. Of course that couldn't be helped- brown skinned, Indian, with very faulty language skills. Now think as much I can't really remember what my pre-France, French imaginings were. Of course the Eiffel tower. But then I knew I wouldn't be near Paris. The mountains- and all that loomed in my head were the far off mountains I saw in Kathmandu and Pokharan. The snow covered, sun bathed mountains.

People... about people... well I didn't really form an opinion. Luckily I had been in conversation with my landlady (to- be then) quite a bit through e-mail. She seemed extremely nice and I doubted even then that I would have problems with her. I was afraid of the teachers though. The ones with whom I would have to work. Mainly for the reason that I had absolutely no idea what was required of me. But I guess I was most apprehensive of the students. I had been a teacher for 2 and 1/2 years by then and I knew standing in front of a class of students was no easy feat. At least not for me! And French students! What should I expect?

And then I landed here. Well, yes impressions were begining to be formed right from Paris. At Gare de Lyon actually.