Simply Being | Simple Being

Category: This-That (page 41 of 234)

No More Guilt

How annoying is the guilt that follows a leisurely afternoon movie. "How can you sit back and watch a movie in the afternoon when the rest of the world is working hard, hunched over their laptops and devices, downing cup after cup of coffee (or can after can of Diet Coke)?" So bugging when you mentally begin to justify the hour or so that you happily spent reading Alexander McCall Smith's 'La's Orchestra Saves The World.' "Reading is all fine and dandy but really, shouldn't you be cleaning the kitchen or bathroom, folding up the laundry, looking for a job?" Pottering around the house, doing those inonsequential little tasks, moving the furniture, dusting the cabinets… nothing of much consequence. Such guilt afterward.

HMMMPH.

No more, I promise.

A Poem for You

Sometime in the late 90s, I got myself added to a daily mailing list run by a trio that loved poetry. Every day, they sent out a poem to their thousands of subscribers (hundreds, maybe) with a little personal note, a critique, some notes. The Wondering Minstrels mailing list is long dead but the poems have been archived at The Wondering Minstrels. And true to the style of a site somewhat neglected, you can find ads for Viagra and luxury shoes in the comments section. Ah, well. That mailing list was the beginning of my love affair with poetry. It brought all kinds of poems into my life. Some were heartachingly beautiful ("Bearhug" by Michael Ondaatje), some were poignant ("Pigtail" by Tadeusz Ròzewicz), some were impishly lovable ("I am very Bothered" by Simon Armitage).

Today I don't go out seeking poetry but it calls out to me from various places. It has found a place in my heart and seeks recognition everywhere else. Yes, I now appreciate it so much.

"I am Very Bothered"

I am very bothered when I think
of the bad things I have done in my life.
Not least that time in the chemistry lab
when I held a pair of scissors by the blades
and played the handles
in the naked lilac flame of the Bunsen burner;
then called your name, and handed them over.

O the unrivalled stench of branded skin
as you slipped your thumb and middle finger in,
then couldn't shake off the two burning rings. Marked,
the doctor said, for eternity.

Don't believe me, please, if I say
that was just my butterfingered way, at thirteen,
of asking you if you would marry me.

-- Simon Armitage

Passion for Fashion, A Sense for Style!

Growing up in Bombay, I was what you could call “hip.”

I wore trendy clothes, combined traditional prints with artsy jewelry, wore kurtas and kurtis with jeans, and had the whole ‘cool-traditional-modern-hip’ vibe down pat. After I moved to the United States, I was at a complete loss. Somehow, my usual style of combining Indian fabrics and prints with jeans/trousers didn’t exactly fly here. It felt very forced, unnatural, over-the-top Indian. But I had no other style, knew no other way to dress. So I continued doing what I used to, and felt like a total cop-out. Plus, my young face and the jeans-tee combination had me constantly fielding questions like “Really, how old ARE you?,” “You look like such a college kid!” and such.

It is flattering to be told that one looks like an 18-year-old but it was time for me to dress up, dress my age.

Something changed this year and I think it had to do with The Working Closet. Susan Wagner’s simple writing and practical tips made me view my wardrobe and myself anew. I realized that I didn’t have to transform my closet or become a different person to start dressing trendy, the American way. It was about looking “put together” and it was well within my ken, with the clothes I had. It was about seeing the same pieces differently, wearing them differently, combining them differently. And then, shopping for clothes and accessories again acquired a joy of its own, like it used to be earlier. Putting outfits together, combining separates and turning them into unique combinations, playing with jackets and belts… now, it’s all fun!

And it continues on. And I am a happy shopper once again.

Days of Sunshine Flying By…

We are so lucky in this city that we get to experience the golden-sun, blue-skied brilliance of winters. It is a magical time of the year and an integral part of it is the holiday season. It feels like a few precious days before the clock strikes twelve on the night of December 31. January 1 is a very quiet day, mostly. People are sleeping in, the year is young… and everyone is steeling themselves for the fact that it will be more than five months before a holiday arrives. How amazing it would be to have one more 4-day weekend in the year!

There is no end to housework, sigh. With this one last random thought, it is time to sign off.