Notes to self

A set of reminders for a better everyday.

1.) Focus on being present in the moment . This has been a recurrent theme in my blog of late too. Learning the art of doing this from 14-month-old D.

2.) Set apart time for fitness. Work out at home, resume yoga, meditate for a while, go for a walk. Was regular with this but been lethargic ever since I got home to be with parents.

3.) Read good books. And read more often.

4.) Listen to music. Surprised that this is on the list because this is the one thing I used to do all the time. Now, though, my phone’s always on mute but I do play music in the background when D is eating or playing. But it’s mostly devotional or classical music, thanks to my family. Maybe pick different kinds of music too, so D is exposed to more variety.

5.) Mindless social media surfing needs to stop. My fingers and wrist hurt after a point!

6.) Start driving your car. Enough with the excuses and the baseless fears.

7.) Wear sarees more often, and learn to drape with more finesse. On a similar note, wear good clothes, give away stuff you don’t wear. Been doing this in regular intervals but wardrobe optimisation is a life-long process.

8.) Focus on self care. Seriously. It’s about time. Treat yourself to a good hair cut or a pedicure every few months at least.

9.) Practice patience. Easier said than done especially for someone like me who’s most impatient. But, but, I’m already doing a lot better than the last few weeks ever since I felt myself spiralling out of control. Point number 1 , aka, mindfulness, has helped.

10.) Get on top of your finances. Pending PF withdrawals, invoices, investment status, mutual fund returns, SIPs… get them all sorted one by one.

11.) Pick your projects. I’ve been turning down out a lot of work that’s come my way these days because I realise it’s not important now. Maybe it’s a good idea to say an outright No rather than reeling under the pressure once you’ve agreed to take on said work and then opting out. I want to spend more time with D. She’s my number one. Work scene seems more manageable now.

12.) Ask for help. You can’t and don’t have to do everything yourself. I can count on family and friends to help with babycare and more or just talk.

13.) Stay in touch with friends. And get out more to meet them. Also don’t shy away from forging new friendships.

14.) Do things you love. Sing, bake, cook, paint, photograph, write, work, laugh, play with abandon, with passion and zero expectations. And don’t think about how you’ll be perceived or if you’re good or bad. Treat everything as an opportunity to learn. Try it without holding back. Without seeking validation.

15.) stay grateful and positive. You are in a god place.

16.) Cut yourself some slack. It’s all right.

Hyderabad Diaries

It’s been roughly 6 months since I moved to Hyderabad from Delhi. And while I initially cribbed about the city, its terrible roads and haphazard traffic, I’ve finally made my peace with it, simply because this is the story with every single city in the country at the moment. At least here, the people are nicer and less aggressive.

One of the most comforting things about Hyderabad is that, unlike Delhi, I don’t have to dress up every time I step out of home. You are not judged based on what you’re wearing or how you look. So while in Delhi I did feel the pressure to be decently turned out even if I’m heading to the market nearby, here, I’m free to be me. Such a relief! I’ve been to cafes, restaurants and malls in my houseclothes, and felt perfectly at ease with myself and the world. The only thing I still can’t get myself to do is step out of home in an atrocious nightie; no offence – it’s the most comfortable garment ever invented but we need to set boundaries, really.

I’m trying to converse in Telugu, and I’m quite confident I can pull it off until I encounter a situation where I’m forced to speak the language. That’s when I become tongue-tied, and what comes out of my mouth is a melange of Tamil, Hindi and English with a smattering of Telugu words and phrases interspersed in between. I’m hoping I can get to a point where I’m fairly conversant in Telugu; it’s so important to make an effort to learn the local language, and while I can easily get by with Hindi and English here, I’d like to pick up Telugu too. Speaking in Hindi in a non-Hindi state reeks of entitlement, ignorance and privilege; I usually judge people who do that, and I’m very careful not to turn into one of those people. So bring on the Telugu tutorials.

A few months back, I travelled a bit around Telangana with a friend who was working on a project with the state tourism board. It was good fun and a great opportunity to explore the state beyond Hyderabad – we went to the stunning Ramappa temple and the gorgeous Ramappa lake, Warangal, Bhongir Fort and a few other temples, all in a day. I loved it, of course, except for the fact that it was super hot (it was in late May, after all) and the places themselves were so poorly maintained and bereft of tourist facilities. I really hope they spruce it up, else all that enchanting history and beauty will soon be lost forever.

But Vishakhapatnam in Andhra Pradesh was a different story altogether. M and I were there last weekend, and we cannot stop raving about the place. The bluest and cleanest seaside with rolling lush green hills, immaculately soft beach sands and jaw-dropping views from hilltops – I’d seriously not expected it to be this good. We were staying at the Taj Gateway hotel right on the beach (thanks to free vouchers from American Express), and I figured why I like hotel stays so much. Two words. Breakfast Buffet. It’s an amazing feeling to wake up knowing that you merely have to show up to feast on elaborately laid out food. At home, my breakfast is usually standardized – bread or sandwich, eggs, coffee, sometimes cereal but always watermelons and banana. So when I’m at a breakfast buffet, I gorge on crispy vadais, piping hot pongal, puffed up puris and steer clear of toast and cereal. I load up on fruits first though, so I feel better about piling up my plate with more sinful food later on. Although I try not to overindulge, there is this pressure to make up for all of it once the holiday is over.

In other news, I’m slowing down my pace and focussing on being mindful about everything I do. So cooking lunch or dinner is now a slow and even more enjoyable process, because I’m not rushing it; I’m taking my time, planning and prepping better, and not randomly dropping or spilling things on the floor. The results have been quite satisfactory. I put on some music when I’m cooking, and for some reason, Gypsy Kings is my favourite artiste to listen to when I’m in the kitchen (or heading out for a walk); the energy and the vibe really brings out the best in me.

The weather in Hyderabad is glorious now – clear skies, a soothing cool gentle breeze through the day, and since we live on the tenth floor, it’s even better. The breeze follows you everywhere at home – the kitchen, the bedroom, the living room, and it’s so calming and reassuring. It puts you in a good mood. It’s the perfect time to fall in love with the city.

Do you listen to music while cooking, and do you have a favourite artiste/song?

 

 

Biryani, playlists and more

I busted my knee a few days ago, and I haven’t been working out the last couple of days. M says I’m not a graceful runner, that I swing my feet with much force causing a thud on the treadmill, hence the twisted knee and ankle. Anyway, muscles I did not know existed have begun to ache, and then my uterus decided to bleed the hell out, without as much as a warning (no PMS? mixed feelings about it, some warning would have been nice), so I’m pretty much confined to the living room couch or the bed most of the day. That, however, did not deter me from venturing out for some biryani last night, it being Eid; and if you remember, I’m vegetarian. Yes, laugh all you want, you smug meat-eaters, but a girl’s gotta eat when she wants to, especially when said girl is on her period.

Paradise Biryani has an outlet in the neighbourhood, but I was unceremoniously denied my vegetarian biryani; apparently they ran out of stock. Kind of lame. I was sulking in a corner dunking my Osmania biscuit in sweet Irani chai, as I saw M march out of the restaurant with a giant packet of mutton biryani, a grin on his face. Our next stop was Bawarchi, where I managed to get my veg biryani packed. It was my first biryani in Hyderabad, and while I was expecting to be blown away by the complexity of spices, and the texture of slow cooked vegetables, all I got was coloured basmati rice. So bloody underwhelming. I did spot a handful of veggies tucked at the very bottom of the pack, but I’m pretty sure that the chef had dropped them in the biryani by mistake. Also, no fried onions. Such a damp squib, it turned out to be.

On that sad note, as promised in the earlier post, here’s a glimpse of some of the artistes/songs I listen to, while I’m running.

Chromeo: Literally any song by the Canadian electro-funk band, but mostly from the duo’s 2014 album, White Women. Permanent fixtures on my list include this peppy track , this one and this funky number. Really gets me in the groove.

Tame Impala: If you haven’t heard this Aussie act earlier, I have one word for you. Currents. One of the best albums to come out in 2015. There are some real gems in the album, but my running playlist has these two songs: Let It Happen and The Less I Know The Better. And I never tire of them, especially the second song, despite the weird, confusing video.

Daft Punk: R.A.M is one classic album that is going to be on every playlist of mine – whether at a party, at home, on the road, or in the gym. Lose Yourself To Dance and Get Lucky figure in the list.

Foster The People: Songs from Supermodel, the band’s second album, should receive more airplay; I think they’re better, more evolved, and dancier (that should be a real word), and this song always gives that extra spring in my step.

Capital Cities: Safe and Sound will always remind me of 2013. It was song of the year, as far as I was concerned. And what a fun song. Then along came Kangaroo Court, I Sold My Bed But Not My Stereo and One Minute More, making for one cracker of an album (A Tidal Wave OF Mystery). It’s also my happy running album.

Robin Schulz: He had my attention at Wave After Wave, (although it’s by Mr Probz, remixed by Schulz) and I’m a fan for life. Sugar, Prayer in C, Headlights, Sun Goes Down and more recently, OK, featuring the beauty that is James Blunt, are my top songs for a run.

Calvin Harris: I’m not into hardcore EDM, but I dig a track with melody. And usually if it is not too new-age-y, a retro slant is enough to get me hooked. I liked Calvin’s earlier stuff, right up to 2014 or so. when Summer hit the charts. My list has the older ones, like this track with Dizzee Rascal, I’m Not Alone,  Ready For The Weekend, Bounce, Feel So Close,  and so on. I just watched the monstrosity that is Feels, that was apparently released a couple of days back, so R.I.P Calvin!

Avicii: My kind of music. Wake Me Up is my go to track, when I’m out running or in the gym. In fact, the entire album, called True, makes for stellar listening.

The Black Keys: Lonely Boy makes me want to dance like the guy in the video, and Gold On The Ceiling is ideal for the fag end of my run.

Chicane: Offshore has been on my playlist since time immemorial, and though I have no idea if Chicane even exists today, some of his songs like Stoned In Love continue to accompany me on my quest for fitness.

Apart from these, random numbers by Arctic Monkeys, Alt-J, Phil Collins, Rod Stewart, Coldplay, Clean Bandit, and even lesser-known bands like Mudcrutch (featuring Tom Petty) sit pretty on my ipod.

And for some inexplicable reason, this inanely absurd song still remains on my list. It’s called Tiger Took My Family and it’s by some loony guy called Dr Bombay. I’m sure it’s racist as hell too. I urge you to give it a spin.

What’s on your playlist?

 

 

 

The unbearable lightness of running

The weather in Hyderabad has turned itself around magically. Just a few weeks back, the city was an overheated oven burning with a vengeance as summer was set to fade away most ungracefully, making way for the monsoons, a highly romanticised phenomenon. I love the rains, no doubt. I become a bundle of clichés – curling up with a book by the balcony with a cup of coffee by my side, listening to sappy love songs, baking brownies, craving a glass of wine, and the latest on the list, running.

You’d think I’m off my rockers to go running in the rain, but it’s liberating in a strange way. Before I go on, I must emphasise that I don’t run in the pouring rain, but just when it’s cloudy and drizzly. I do not quite know how it started, but I’ve been going on brisk 45-60 minute walks on most days since 2015, and those minutes I spent savouring the sheer simplicity of being in the open with no purpose, except a desire to just be there, stirred something within me. I had nothing to prove, no great ambition to speak of, when I was out walking; I could take my own time, or hurry up, if I felt like it. I felt in control. Of my body, my pace, my time, and my thoughts.

I’d made half-hearted attempts at running in the past, but I was way too conscious of myself to get down to it. Besides, every time I ran, I’d have to deal with an excruciating pain in my lower back that would take days to go away. So I shelved the plan, just like I had done with plenty of other exciting things that crossed my mind. But once every while, even as new ideas take shape, the discarded ones tend to pop like mustard seeds in a hot kadai. And that’s how I started to run. I’m a novice, though, but I’m constantly learning and trying to up my game, build more stamina, and it’s supremely refreshing. It also gives me something to look forward to, every single day. And this, right here, this is what I’ve wanted. To completely lose myself in an activity I enjoy, to lose track of time, let go of inhibitions and the shackles that bind me (most of them are imaginary), and to simply be, in the moment.

There are times when I’m running and I want to stop in the tracks; in that split second, I have two choices. I could choose to stop and go back home, happy to have come this far, or power through it, and push it some more. On most occasions, I tend to go with the latter, simply because you need to break that wall to go to the other side, the next level, so to speak, where you’re drowning in a river of sweat, feeling the lightness of being, and your energy is at its peak. It may seem gross, but trust me when I say that this is the closest to a ‘runner’s high’ that I’ve got until now. It is positively liberating.

Of course, there are times, when you absolutely must listen to your body, and call it a day, if you feel like you can’t do it. And I’ve learned from mistakes. I’d start running just when I stepped out, but I’ve realised the importance of warming up before actually running – doing some stretches helps, so does breaking your pattern and alternating between running and walking. So, for every few minutes I spend running, I spend more than double the time walking, gradually building up to a comfortable jog. I used to be hung up on speed, but speed is not important at all in the larger scheme of things – plenty of articles point towards the fact that the best way to run is to keep it slow, you should be able to carry on a conversation while running. And it’s also crucial to take breaks and catch your breath.

But the unwritten rule is this: listen to the appropriate playlist. Not Everly Brothers or Simon & Garfunkel. I need the music to pep me up, to make me want to run. EDM does the trick always, and any song with a good beat, really. I’ll share my playlist in the next post, it’s time to put on those running shoes now.

Retro-spective

It’s been a while since I scoured the internet for new exciting music. In fact, I don’t remember the last time I sat at home glued to the laptop; it now lies untouched and unopened in a corner of the study table in our bedroom. Today, though, I spent the whole morning looking up music on Youtube, but instead of searching for new indie music as is my routine, I found myself gravitating towards the sound of the 80s. Or what we now quite fashionably call ‘retro’.

I feel bad for the 80s in a sense. It was an awkward period defined by spandex and outrageous hairdos. Nobody gave a damn about it when it was there, and now more than 2 decades later, everything about it has suddenly become cool. In fact, the reason I loved Daft Punk’s RAM or Tame Impala’s Currents or even Uptown Funk was its unmistakable retro touch.

Maybe that’s how nostalgia works. And that’s what age does to you. You start seeking comfort in the familiar. I’m now spinning this stellar number by Falco, and even doing a little dance as I listen to the inane song. Next up is Heart by Pet Shop Boys. Sounds like the beginning of a good weekend.

I’ve been thinking about this: if at all I open a cafe, I know what kind of music I’ll be playing. I have no idea about the decor or the menu or the feasibility of the whole thing, but hey, I have a playlist.

And ooh, I went to Bhutan a couple of weeks back, and brought back some zen and lots of that famous Bhutanese cheer. Let’s hope it lasts long enough!

Also, I’m a Fitbit person now; yeah, I now have a machine on my wrist that prods me to walk more than 10k steps a day. I was enthusiastic as hell the first couple of weeks, I could’ve walked to the moon and back. This week, I’m like, screw it, I’m not moving, but will hopefully make up for being lazy soon enough.

And if you haven’t watched The Jungle Book yet, go watch it. It’s the best movie I’ve seen in a long time, and it’s one of the few movies where I cared about each and every character on the screen. What a beautifully made film. So touching, so inspiring.