2 heroines...

Larisa Feodorovna Guishar: She was here on earth to grasp the meaning of its wild enchantment and to call each thing by its right name.

Constance Chatterly: She was to be had for the taking.

Memory of a midnight...

We usually spend slow Sunday nights pacing on the terrace, in the cool and teasing summer night breeze. 

Once inside though, we end up arguing on many interesting things... One argument we had last Sunday:

Would we be happier if we could forget our pain ?

One of my friends[Lahens, the other being Lateehs] swears by this quote: The secret to happiness is a healthy body and a bad memory.

Me: Seems to make sense. If we cannot remember our pain, there is no reason for us to feel sad. It would last just for the one moment that the bad thing happened and the very next moment one would be happy again. Something like ignorance is bliss, though in a new context. (Being the eternal showoff I quoted Pope too):

Me: "How happy is the blameless vessal's lot!

The world forgetting, by the world forgot.

Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!

Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;"

Explain, they said. 

Me: I don't know really, I had heard that verse in a movie I had seen long back,'Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind' [PS: one of the best movies Ive seen till now].

[I tell them what happens in short].

Lovers who have fallen apart erase their memories of what happened and each other. The girl does it first;what exactly happens as the guy's memory is being erased is shown. He wants to keep a few happy memories he had of her. As each record of her is hunted down and killed, he remembers the old memories, the happy memories with her, but which will get erased too.

Me: So a point made, if you lose sad memories you will lose happy memories too. The same people who caused pain can have given you happiness too.

Argument from Lahens: Why erase memories of people ? Why not just incidents ? 

Which I couldn't answer.

Lahens: Well, what happens finally ?

Me: The most interesting part was that the people who had undergone this procedure,ended up falling in love again with the very same people they had erased!Maybe it is the mystery of romantic love itself, inexplicable why we fall for the ones we do.Stuff like 'meant to be' or 'soul mates ' ?

Practical Lateehs: [Smiling] "Those who forget their past are doomed to re-live it".

Lahens: [Laughing] True. If you forget your mistakes you will repeat them. Falling for the wrong person too is a mistake isn't it ?

You learnt why he wasn't suited for you. If the memory, the lesson goes, you will have to learn it all over again.

So to answer my question, even if you erased just the bad incidents with him ,and kept the happy ones, you would wonder what went wrong ? Why aren't you with him now ?You would try again, and end up with the same bad experience !

Bottom line: If you forget your pain, you will be happy; but if you forget it you are doomed to re-live it, which will again make you sad.

Me: So what now? Things are perfect as they are now ? If we forget pain, we lose our chance to feel happiness too ? Happiness and sadness, both or none ?!

Lateehs: Hm...

Lahens: Seems perfect to me...

My Dream House

Glass House

Weekends with BF

This trend I've noticed at work;the first question on a Monday is always
"So how was your weekend ?"
My answer, "Good.With BF".
So when they ask, "Boy friend ?!"
My answer, "Nope.Brand Factory! :D".

Quote

HAPPINESS ONLY REAL WHEN SHARED.

-Into The Wild
(Highly recommended movie).

Devouring this:
http://www.amazon.com/One-Here-Gets-Out-Alive/dp/0446602280

Sunday

Sundays were always slow days for me. Boring almost. A day to do absolutely nothing, giving in to my lazy nature(under control during the 6 days with the greatest difficulty). Almost like a baby's day really- awake at 11, no breakfast, take a long hot bath, eat a hot lunch, and go back to sleep. Rise again in the evening, eat , trouble a few people around for entertainment, and before you know it, its night- dinner time and drop off again. Bliss.

Job has made to shift to another city, Bangalore. The times, they are a changin'. Routine made me wake up at 6:30 am (!) this Sunday. (Yes, yes I too hate people who wake up so early.) Force of habit too strong for me though. Chores all done by 7:30 am, me and my friend, Snehal decided to go for a walk. (Yes, yes I too hate people who go for early morning walks.)
Bangalore always seems to be right in the way of cold winds. This morning was no different. We walked briskly to keep warm. The sun rising lazily was promising us a warmer day ahead. The wide roads were deserted almost. We walked along the pavement kicking stones and chatting as the great wise trees swooshed gently and watched over us.

A man was ironing clothes on his hand cart a little ahead. Surprisingly, Bangalore has no shops that iron clothes. People here get it done by men who move around with small wooden hand carts with charcoal irons. The steam burst off the freshly washed damp clothes as they were being pressed to perfection by the hot and heavy charcoal iron. Lovely smell as we walked past him.

A huge house was being built further on. The smell of cut wood was in the air now. The workmen were not around, the house looked deserted - Wood shavings and nails and iron railings strewn all over the yard from the previous day's work. But we knew that it would soon be full of laughter and life. A couple were giggling and chasing each other inside oblivious of any onlookers.

We saw a small neat park ahead and entered through the half- sunken wooden gate. The night's rain had darkened the trees and the mud, both giving off the heady sweet monsoon smell. The dew on the grasses washed our feet as we walked on through...

The long walk had given us a good appetite and we turned back after a while. Houses seemed awake now, with gardeners out, and newspapers off the porch and the women set to cooking breakfast- this because we smelled delicious sambhar being cooked ! Made us even more hungry.

One of the many roadside barbecues was open for business. Snehal is a vegetarian; it totally turns her off, the smell of crisply roasted spicy meat. I laughed loud as she avoided even looking in that direction and walked on fast.

We soon reached the bakery at the head of the main market. The aroma of fresh breads and cakes and rolls was too sweet for us to resist. We ate a piece of cake standing by the corner, watching as a jack fruit seller got to work cutting up a fruit. I love the way the fruit smells !

...too many strong aromas for us since morning. It was time to head home. The whole bustling market lay before us, but Snehal said we had to cook lunch. Our neighbors too would get to smell something heavenly today :-).