Tag: life

Why I Quit My Job To…

The other day I happened to read this article. The post was wise, looked at reality, and made me think. But what the post also had was a fair extent of bitterness. It might make a person with fewer wings think less of flying. Don’t be that person, I thought after reading the post. These

The Year Of The Monkey

I can’t believe it’s the Year of the Monkey again. That it has been more than a decade since the last Year of the Monkey. Gone through 12 Zodiac signs. All the other animals before reaching the monkey again. It was in 2004 that I first met the monkey. Back then, I was in Lianyungang,

The Something In You

There’s a photo of me on the wardrobe in my room, in my parent’s house. My Dad has taken some of the photos of my childhood, and stuck them on the wooden wardrobe that spans the floor to the ceiling here in my bedroom. One of me as a baby, grinning delightedly, sepia-tinted with my

The Art Of Emotion

Have a problem? I can solve it. Have something on your mind? I can listen to it. Want to talk about the deepest, darkest corners of your soul? I can empathize. Ask me to do the same. I freeze. I realized that today at work when I was faced with an outpouring of emotion when

Of Happiness And Memories

The  other day I was reading an article, yet another interview, with the world’s happiest man. Matthieu Ricard, a 69-year-old Tibetan Buddhist monk, is not called the “world’s happiest man” without reason. Scientists at the University of Wisconsin found that Ricard’s brain, when meditating, “produces a level of gamma waves – those linked to consciousness,

Bok Choy And Memories

I found some fresh bok choy in the local grocery store and I was immediately taken back to many a dinner and lunch in restaurants from the north, south, east, and west of China. All these years. I remembered the texture, the flavor of garlic and ginger. Just gentle garlic and ginger and the rich,

Set Fire To The Past

Of late, my posts on this blog have become less personal. I am sometimes scared, seeing Google Analytics, and all these people who are visiting this blog, to writing what I really feel. I wonder why they would want to read about my life. Its mundane happenings. Its pointless wanderings. My own pitiful bleat. I

The Box

Frances looked at the little box in her hand. She wasn’t sure how she came to be holding it in her hand. Around her, boys hooted and kids shrieked. Teachers scurried about looking vaguely harried and wonderfully busy. At 5, life can seem strange. At 50, it doesn’t seem to change. But that she would

The Gift

  Just a slight drizzle outside. Unseasonal. But then nothing was part of the season anymore. I peered inside the darkened windows of the bookshop. My own reflection peered back at me. From the outside, Patel’s Books, seemed almost like the relic of a pub. It stood well back from the street, almost as if

The Night The Circus Came to Town

It was the night the circus came to town. The days when cable TV as a word didn’t exist in our dictionary. Maharaja’s Circus, it was called. No malls. Cinemas, yes. But we would wait for the once-a-year show to reach our town. The night the circus came to town is one I would remember