Thank you, 2015

This time last year I was home alone, and pretty upset about it. I’m home alone tonight as well, but not upset. I’ve never voluntarily spent New Year’s Eve alone, which is quite possibly my most favourite time of the year. But this year, somehow, nothing materialized. I could have spent it with some friends, but I wanted to either party hard or not do anything. All or nothing. So I did nothing. I was working till 9pm anyway, so I came back home, ordered the most amazing food I’ve come to love after moving here, and am now watching TV. Some people in office asked me to their parties with pity invitations, but I didn’t need any. I am perfectly happy being home, sleeping in my bed (not surrounded by drunk people) after watching Bigg Boss and reading Liane Moriarty’s amazing novel. Is this called growing up or becoming boring? I don’t know. I don’t care tonight.

But one advantage of the absence of any scene is that I get the time to do a 2015 roundup. I might have changed blogs, but I’m still the same person with the same rituals. And 2015 deserves all the attention it can get. It was a landmark year in so many ways.

You know the logic of the book The Secret? How when you want something and keep thinking about it and sending out good vibes in the universe or whatever, you ultimately get it? I think I do that with sadness. I just assume that I’m going to be upset. I just assume that shit will go down. I just assume that I’m Murphy’s Pet. I should be the brand ambassador for self-fulfilling prophecies. When 2015 began, I told everyone that it was my quarter-life crisis year, with no evidence to support that. I just said it. And it happened.

It started with not being able to quit my job in January, and did not seem to end. I was unhappy all the time. At home, at work, in my countless trips to Delhi, in the middle of the freaking desert in Jaisalmer, even in Amsterdam – my first Europe trip – I was constantly upset or worried or super unhappy with my life. I was ungrateful, I was a horrible daughter and I was a nightmare to be around. I hated everything, and I hated myself. I had good reasons to be upset, but I wasn’t doing anything to fix them.

Sometimes I tried. I coloured my hair red. I gave up on the idea of quitting. I started Instagram-ing. I saved up all my money for an unformed grand plan. I met friends. I became better at staying in touch with friends. I wrote. I read. But I was still unequivocally unhappy. It had to change because it was killing me.

So I quit.

I don’t know how I got the courage to do that, because I loved the idea of having that job. There are still times, now especially since I’m back in Delhi, when I cannot believe that I don’t work there anymore. But I don’t. Somehow, in June, I gathered all my courage and quit. And this is one cliché I loved becoming, because it was the best decision I’ve made in a long, long time.

Right from the moment I sent my resignation letter, even before my notice period ended, I saw myself change. I got on that crazy diet plan which totally worked, I signed up for the belly dancing workshop, and I booked tickets to Bombay and Goa even before my last working day. One I stopped working, it was insane. I was super free and super busy at the same time. I remember friends warning me that I’ll get bored, that I’ll regret my decision, that I will go crazy, and none of that happened. I was prepared for it, though. I was ready to regret everything and be more miserable, but something had changed, and I wasn’t.

The sabbatical was a blur of zumba, vacations, cooking, weddings and a lot of dancing. I was thinner, prettier, livelier. People were amazed when they saw me. You’re glowing, I was told. I started wearing red lipstick more often. I started taking trips, I slept a lot more, I drove a lot more. I fell in love with many songs and celebrated whenever they came on the FM while I was driving. Being in Jaipur still sucked super hard, but I started becoming okay with being there.

I was happy.

And then, Delhi happened.

I got this job without much hassle. I didn’t have to go through the uncertainty of giving too many interviews, nervously waiting for an answer, writing too many copy tests. The ease with which I landed this job made me suspicious. Before I joined, I was ready for them to take it away from me at any point. They didn’t. I came back. I don’t even know how to explain my relationship with Delhi. I don’t think I understand it very well myself.

When I tell the story of how I left Delhi in 2014, I conveniently leave out the part where I should say that some part of me wanted to leave. My life was too messy here, too complicated, too dangerous. Now that I’m back, some of that comes back to haunt me. But I am very proud of myself for finally getting myself out of the most toxic relationship I’ve ever been in. I may not be 100% out, but I’m very close, and I have no intentions of going back, so there's that.

Coming back has its own set of challenges, of course. I hadn’t forgotten the travails of living alone, but I did romanticize a lot of it. But now, when I come back home to no food and a leaking gas cylinder, I don’t always burst into tears. Sometimes, I still do.

Despite terribly wanting to, I was certain I wasn’t going to come back to Delhi or get another job. At least not in 2015. But I did. So here I am, at the end of the year, trying to find my place in a new job and a new-old city.

I have no idea what 2016 is going to bring. I know my parents want me to get married. I know my biodata is out in the marriage market. Will I get married? Will I settle down in this job? Will I go back to my old ways and turn into the horrible, miserable person I was six months ago? I hope not. I have no answers, which is why, despite having what can evidently be called a great year, I don't know what to expect from the next one.

But if there’s one thing to be learnt from 2015, it’s that sometimes it’s okay to turn your life upside down to save yourself a little bit. I really, really hope that I don’t get lost in 2016. But if I do, maybe, perhaps, probably, there’s a chance that I’ll find myself again.

Happy new year, you guys! The blog saved me in more ways than I can count.

2015 tag

1. What did you do in 2015 that you’d never done before?
Coloured my hair red
Went to Amsterdam
Quit my job
Went to Goa
Joined a belly dancing class
Planned a bachelorette
Took a vacation with a friend
Shut my beloved blog

2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
No

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Yes

4. Did anyone close to you die?
No

5. What countries did you visit?
The Netherlands! (This is the first time I have an answer to this question, hence the exclamation mark)

6. What would you like to have in 2016 that you lacked in 2015?
Work-life balance

7. What date from 2015 will remain etched upon your memory?
July 31, my last working day in the previous job

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Getting up the nerve to quit the job
Enjoying the sabbatical
Winning the weight loss challenge

9. What was your biggest failure?
Not being able to get out of a dead-end non-relationship

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Not particularly.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
Tickets for my trips. Red highlights for my hair.

12. Whose behaviour merited celebration?
Mine. My parents’. A friend’s.

13. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?
My former boss’
My best friend’s

14. Where did most of your money go?
Vacations.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Amsterdam. Goa. The bachelorette. Coming back to Delhi.

16. What song/album will always remind you of 2015?
Lean On
Tell Me If You Wanna Go Home

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
1. Happier or sadder? Happier
2. Thinner or fatter? Thinner
3. Richer or poorer? Poorer

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Weight loss

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Putting off quitting the job. Worrying about my former boss’ opinions.

20. How will you be spending Christmas?
I spent Christmas eating the best bacon-wrapped chicken at Amalfi.

21. Who did you spend the most time on the phone with?
Friends. The boy, in the latter half.

22. Did you fall in love in 2015?
No

23. How many one night stands in this last year?
None

24. What was your favourite TV programme?
Parks and Recreation
The Office
Californication
The Lizzie Bennet Diaries (web series)

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
No

26. What was the best book(s) you read?
Big Little Lies

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
The soundtrack of Begin Again

28. What did you want and get?
To move out again.

29. What did you want and not get?
To figure out my dream job
The perfect figure
To do Vipassana

30. What were your favourite films of this year?
Inside Out
The Hundred-Foot Journey

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
25. Lunch with the family, coffee with a friend and dinner with another friend.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
More drastic weight loss. A smoother process while quitting my job.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2015?
I’m-trying-to-lose-weight-and-nothing-comes-in-in-between-sizes.

34. What kept you sane?
A friend, mostly. Books. The many trips I took.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Channing Tatum
Arjun Kapoor

36. What political issue stirred you the most?
The gender equality debate

37. Who did you miss?
Delhi

38. Who was the best new person you met?
A couple of girls at the bachelorette, I guess.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2015.
When your dream starts to look like a nightmare, it’s okay to want out.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year?
Who are we? Just a speck of dust within the galaxy/ Woe is me, if we're not careful turns into reality.

30 days of Delhi

I spent my weekend watching three movies that I always avoid because they make me cry. Which is my way of saying that I spent my weekend crying. I seem to be some kind of a specialized masochist.

I’m finally settling down in the new routine of my new life, but I still miss my sabbatical immensely. The new house is very grown-up, and has almost everything. But that’s a reflection of how thoughtful my parents are. They were here the weekend I moved, and helped set up everything. Since then, I’ve been trying not to turn this into a pigsty, but there are days when it starts to resemble one. Every now and then, some or the other issue comes up, and I spend my days waiting for the repairmen to come and fix things. It’s not even a surprise anymore when they say that they’ll come at 11 and turn up at 4. I’m trying to say yes to most social invitations I receive, because I’m worried about going back to my old ways. But because of this, today is the first holiday where I didn’t have to go out or meet someone or do something. So far, I’ve met friends, went for dinners, watched movies and gone on one pub crawl. I also threw a little party at my place for friends from journalism school. It’s was fun, mostly. At least until I was left alone with just one of them and things went from bad to worse. I also met a blog friend recently, and it continues to amaze me how such great friendships started online because of my weird alter ego.

The most exceptional part of this entire month, however, has been the fact that I’m cooking. Or at least I’m trying to. Most days I am either too tired to cook, or too frustrated from my failed attempts to try again, so I order in. I now know a great place to order every kind of cuisine around my house. This is worrisome, and has to change. The other worrisome thing is how much money I seem to have spent in the last one month. I’m afraid to look at my bank statement because the number might give me a heart attack. I guess the scenes we thought were exaggerated for comic relief in chick flicks have some basis in reality, then. What am I spending all this money on, you ask. Oh, I don’t know. Dinners, birthday presents for colleagues, Secret Santa presents and Body Shop.

Work has been… interesting. I got my first scolding yesterday, but I shouldn’t have. Other than that, I’m still trying to find my place there. I spend all the time I’m awake in front of my laptop, so I’m getting very worried about my eyes. I may miss some things about my old job, but I don’t really miss it.

There’s still so much to do, so much of Delhi left to rediscover, but something’s amiss. I can’t figure out what it is. So until I can, I will continue to sit at home, and not change the channel when One Day, The Time Traveller’s Wife or Marley and Me comes on.

Delhi 2.0

I don’t think my brain has reset its settings to Delhi yet, because I feel like I’m doing everything in a bit of a daze. But that’s probably because I’m still living with relatives, and a friend almost always accompanies me to work in the morning. My parents are going to be here in six days for a couple of days, so homesickness hasn’t kicked in either.

The new workplace is interesting. The setup is very different from my old job, and that will take some serious getting used to, but the people seem nice and it seems like if I can learn how to write well while being pelted with entertaining but often unnecessary information from all sides, I’ll do well here. I’m still mostly quiet at work, because I haven't figured out who I'm supposed to be here. I haven’t been the new girl anywhere in ages, and I was so used to being the baby, the mean girl, the fantastic untouchable over-achieving genius at my old workplace that I don’t know how to be okay with being the person who doesn’t know anything. But of course I don’t know anything and I don’t have much time to learn the ropes, so gotta pull up my socks.

And then, of course, if I can just get my writing mojo back, everything will be fine. But there’s no way of knowing how soon, if at all, that will happen.

I watched Tamasha last night and it was okay. It was beautifully shot and I wanted to go to Corsica, but I don’t understand or agree with all these raving reviews about how it’s such a realistic portrayal of a modern-day love story. Maybe I don’t know what love looks like anymore?

I need to see my friends. Soon. Maybe then I’ll feel like I’m back.

The Sabbatical ends

Between overwhelming farewells and overflowing to-do lists, I forgot that I was leaving. Moving out. Leaving the nest. Again. Unless something goes horribly off-track, I doubt I’m coming back to live here. I’ll come and stay during vacations, but I don’t think I’ll get the chance to live with my parents again. And despite the fact that so much has happened in the last 18 months, the fact remains that right now, seven hours away from taking the train that will take me back to the city I was missing like a phantom limb, I don’t want to go. Suddenly, I don’t know why I ever wanted to live alone. How the hell will I manage everything? My mother’s been teaching me how to cook, and so much can go wrong that I’m worried I might burn my new place down.

But my bags are packed, and my new workplace awaits. From Home 2.0 it’s going to be Delhi 2.0, which I was worried was never going to happen. It’s happening. It’s here. Will this truce continue?

This time next week I would be nearing the end of my first day at the new workplace. Considering I haven’t even started packing, that seems inconceivable right now.

In the 48 hours of the last weekend, I went to Delhi, apartment hunted, came back to Jaipur, said goodbye to my brother twice, attended my parents’ anniversary lunch, danced at a school friend’s sangeet and saw my best friend smile after three years at her roka. The last two events made me very nostalgic, and my mother very grumpy because everyone seems to be getting married except for her daughter. It is kind of true, though. People on Facebook are joking about how I’m the official maid of honour this wedding season. They’re watching too many American movies.

If I’d had this kind of happening social life in the last 18 months, I probably wouldn’t have cribbed so much. But nothing ever works out according to a mere mortal’s plan, so we’ll let that be. While apartment hunting in Delhi, I got so depressed looking at all the 1BHK apartments. My new house seems nice, but of course it’s not Jaipur, it’s not my home town, with the negligible traffic and big houses and a mother taking care of everything. I’m very worried about this whole living-alone-for-the-second-time business, to be honest. On the plus side, my new society has many cute dogs and at least one very cute dog owner.

I’ve started to see friends and have farewell meals with them. Yesterday, while having lunch with a friend made from the old blog, I ran into an ex. I will not miss this in Delhi – running into questionable high school love interests. 

I have five days left in Jaipur. I gotta learn how to stop time.

So it turns out that leaving everything for the last minute has its drawbacks. If my father is to be believed, and he says this is only tentative, I move on the 21st. That gives me less than 10 days to do everything. And because I’m going to be house hunting in Delhi this weekend, that leaves me with even fewer days to do things and meet people in Jaipur. You have literally two friends in Jaipur, says my mother, so what's the fuss. That’s technically true, but I have other things to do. I can’t explain what, but I can’t just say goodbye like this.

It’s also the last day my brother and I will spend together for the foreseeable future. Because we have extended family staying here at the moment, I can’t seem to have a minute alone with him and that’s pissing me off. The to-do lists are only getting lengthier and I’m very clearly running out of time. And because elders know best, and maybe they do but please at least pretend to listen to me, nobody is paying any attention when I say what I want in an apartment or how I want to do things during this move. 

It's probably not helping that I blew my diet today with all the laal maans and keema baati and tiramisu that was consumed during lunch with a friend and now can't shake off the guilt. Plus I'm a little concerned about my relationship status right now and that kind of early 20s drama is not something a 25-year-old should be dealing with.

I’m listening to Isharon Isharon Mein on loop and getting teary-eyed. This hasn’t happened to me in months, so I don’t know what to do with myself right now.

Diwali

I’ve been making many lists in the last few days, most of them related to moving. Lists soothe me, so I make them. It doesn’t mean that I actively worry about ticking things off them. So far, the only list I’ve managed to tick things off of is the one involving places in Jaipur I want to eat at before leaving. And for every crossed out café or restaurant, I add three more.

Tomorrow I might do lunch with a friend and her new husband, and then day after tomorrow I start house hunting will all the focus I can manage at this curious time.

Happy Diwali, you guys! May you stay happy, healthy and hilarious.

Because it's always been Delhi

The house is always crazy loud this time of the year, because our relatives come home for Diwali with their sons, who’re my brother’s age, and the three of them can’t be calm or quiet. This year, I’m extra sentimental. Because I’m leaving. It happened. The thing I’d been praying for for 18 months finally happened and I couldn’t take the time to write about it here.

Last month, two days before leaving for a trip to the hills with a friend, I applied for a job. It was a Delhi job, but for some reason I repressed that information and didn’t dwell on it. I applied because I’d been ignoring vacancies and saying that I was having too much fun in my sabbatical to end it so soon. I applied because I wanted to know my value in the job market. I applied without first understanding if I wanted it. All I knew was that I was wanted them to want me. So two days before I left, I applied, told barely three people about it, interviewed on the phone, and pulled an all-nighter to take their copy test. I sent it the morning I left for Delhi to take a bus to Manali and then forgot about it.

Until six hours later, when, unexpectedly, while I was still in Delhi, I got the call. They liked my writing. They wanted me to start ASAP. They wanted to negotiate salary and talk contracts. I couldn’t breathe. What was happening? Was I going back to Delhi? Was I going to take the job? It was then that I realized that there was never any other option. I’d always wanted this - not the job as much as the city. By chanting Delhi like a mantra and refusing to let go over the last year-and-a-half, I’d somehow made it happen.

That day, still in Delhi, I talked to my parents about returning. About moving out again. There were so many things to consider. My health, my doctors, my diet, my life. To give them credit, my parents were surprisingly chill about it. They never said no, not for a minute. They were just discussing logistics. How much money? When do I join? By the time I took that bus for Manali, seven hours after the call, I’d negotiated the salary and told them I needed 24 hours to get back to them with a joining date. The next day in beautiful but boring Kasol, with everyone high around us all the time, I made the call. Yes, I’d love to work with them. Yes, I want the job. Yes, I’ll join in the last week of November. I hung up and came back to the table where my friend was drinking beer, and we hugged for one whole minute. That night, she made me try red wine. To celebrate, she said, because you’re fucking coming back. Was that what was happening? I wasn’t leaving home, I was just coming back.

The next night in cold Manali, stoned and stupid with laughter, I called up my (kinda) boyfriend. I was worried about his reaction for many reasons, but he was only happy I was coming back. I messaged a couple of friends that I was moving back, I told them about the job. I got excited phone calls in return, where I tried very hard to conceal the fact that I was high for the first time in my life.

I was happy, my friend was happy, but I banned us from talking about the job until I got the contract in my email four days later. She focussed on my boyfriend instead. What was happening? What were we doing? Will we get our heads out of our asses now that we weren’t going to be long distance anymore? We discussed everything endlessly, and came up with theories that were bizarre but fun. We kept trying to look for reasons to talk to the two Dutch men who were staying across the hall from us. When they asked us about the hot springs, we were giggling so hard we couldn’t answer properly.

We took long walks and sat by the river and ate trout and prawns in every café that we went to. We kept trying to click pictures of each other that would be worthy of putting up on Facebook. We talked about her legit boyfriend and our jobs and bosses and friends and everything. We hadn’t spent this much time with each other since we lived together in Delhi and I was so relieved that we didn’t get on each other’s nerves despite spending a whole week together.

I returned from Manali just in time to participate in my zumba group’s flash mob and go clubbing with them on Halloween as Supergirl, my last-ditch effort at a costume. That night, as we posed for pictures and danced till 2am (I’m surprised my parents didn’t kick me out when I came home), I realized that I had a class eighth type crush on one of the boys in my class. I don’t even care if nothing happens, I just get crazy happy every time he so much as looks at me. I started hanging out with this group often and then told them that I was leaving.

I also started the process of telling all my friends, who are all very happy with the development but also very surprised that the sabbatical is ending unexpectedly soon. I also had a few difficult conversations about this job with a couple of people, who can keep their opinions to themselves.

Now, I’m supposed to be packing and house hunting, because I move in less than two weeks, but I can’t seem to get anything done. I have moved quite a bit in the last few years. First from Jaipur to Delhi, then thrice within Delhi and then finally back to Jaipur. Now, after 18 months of talking about going back without ever actually believing that I would, I’m moving back to Delhi, to the reality of living alone which is far from the fantasy I’ve been reliving in my mind for so long.

Everyone’s asking me how I’m feeling. I’m very happy but I’m also very scared. What if, along with losing my freedom when I came back to Jaipur, I also lost the ability to live alone? I might be on a truce with myself, but I'm still superstitious.

Young and reckless

I think it’s a testament to how chill my life has been for the last two-and-a-half months that when something just slightly inconvenient happened today, I had to go to sleep to keep myself from tearing my hair out. Even then, after I woke up I binged on the most amazing namkeen ever created. Then felt horrible about my existence for about two seconds. I was a little surprised at just how upset I was that a phone call got rescheduled.

Or it could have been the fact that I was running on just five hours of sleep. There was a time when I didn’t need anything more than four hours. I could work, party, dance, fight - with time to spare - and I used to laugh at those listicles suggesting that in my mid or late twenties I’d need six hours at the least. Turns out listicles aren’t all bullshit.

I recently won Rs 4200 in a contest. A weight-loss challenge at my zumba class. I’ve never won anything in my life, not even a toffee. So this was huge, and not just because it had to do with weight.

My trip to the hills is fast approaching, but I need to tie up a few loose ends before leaving, including but not limited to finding a skirt that will not look awful while I dance to Nagada Sang Dhol on the 22nd. I don’t understand why we have to do ALL of Deepika’s steps. They’re awesome and awful.

I spent the last few days trying to figure out what my dream job could be. I thought my last job was my dream job, and it really delivered. Until it stopped. Now, I feel directionless in terms of what my calling is. Does it matter? Should I be worried? All these questions were giving me a headache, so I stopped thinking about them. I was so worried that my life would end when I quit, and it didn’t. That’s given me this bizarre sense of courage to throw caution to the winds. For real this time. So I stopped thinking about all these super important questions and dedicated two days to making my resume. I’d forgotten what it’s like to bury myself in a project that didn’t involve marathoning TV shows.

Because I can’t seem to stay away from drama, I’ve spent the last several days and nights caught in the middle of a terrible fight between two friends. Or a friend and a something else. It sounds terribly dramatic, and if my brother (who’s here) is to be believed, it’s terribly exciting to witness, but I’m kinda done with picking up drunken phone calls at 3am and then being guilt tripped for the last five years. WE HAD AN UNSPOKEN AGREEMENT, I want to yell, like Ross and his we-were-on-a-break line. But I’ve come to understand one thing. After you break someone’s heart, you aren't allowed to win with logic.

Speaking of my brother, he and I had this strange confidential conversation the day he came home. I always thought we were close but turns out I was wrong. He was in trouble, which wasn’t as bad as he thought it was but it was a lot more horrifying than anything I could have imagined for him. We slept at 3 that night, after he told me about his girlfriends and I told him about my exes to make him understand how love at 21 doesn’t always end well for everyone and how that's okay. He’s the same age as I was when I started this friends with benefits arrangement that blew up in my face a month ago. Even so, throughout the conversation with my brother, all I could think was, ‘What are you even talking about? You’re so young!’

Half of my Facebook friend list is vacationing in Goa right now, and the other half is in Europe. How do people my age have enough money to be able to do this? I hate Facebook for doing this. I don’t want to see your money and your travel and your fanciness. But this made me work harder on deciding the destination for my next weekend getaway. Also, when did Uttarakhand become so fancy? Every travel blog is asking me to go someplace in that state.

Because my mother and I have been getting on each other’s nerves for the last couple of weeks, I decided to cook today because I needed something from her later. I made chicken pulao, which looked better than it tasted, but it was good nonetheless. However, I could have saved myself the trouble because my mother got angry when I told her about the weekend trip anyway. My father asked me if I was asking for permission or just telling them. I told him that technically 25-year-olds shouldn’t be asking for permission for stuff like this. My mother was, of course, not on board with the idea. Her reason is embarrassingly sexist, so I’m not writing it here, but I’m amazed at how many things she wants me to give up for the imaginary husband. I’m going regardless, now more than ever. They can’t stop me.

My brother got a job. So at least one child in this family has one now. I think he’s going to turn it down in favour of MTech, though. I also turned down the only job offer I had till now because the salary was crap. I tried not to think about what if it were my only chance of moving out again.

I found this group of Brooklyn writers on Tumblr recently, and have been obsessing over them for the last few days. They make me feel not well-read and dumb, and even though I don’t understand so much of what they write about, I can’t stop reading.

The best thing about today was that I managed to do the chakrasana in yoga class without my instructor’s help.

I am watching One Day on TV right now, and I suddenly have too many feelings about 2011. The movie isn’t even that great, even though it has Anne Hathaway in it. But it was the book that cemented a work friendship that went on to become so much more. The book understood what it’s like to be in your twenties, I used to say, even though I was just 21 at the time. Four years later, I still don’t know much about what it’s like to be in your twenties. Confused? Desperate? But 2011 was a good year. I got the job, which I very dramatically quit two months ago, and I was so happy, so eager to please, so invincible with my writing and my potential and my newfound freedom in Delhi. The days, all days, weekends included, were meant for work, and most nights, too. But the evenings I didn't spend at work, I spent with someone I now go to great lengths to avoid. My twenties are only half-over, but every day I worry that the rest of this decade will go exactly the same way, while simultaneously thinking about what I’m going to do if it doesn't.

If I hadn’t quit, I’d have been in Delhi right now for fashion week. That’s all there is to know about my mood right now.

I got a job offer. I’m going to say no, in all probability, but just the fact that I got an offer without even applying somewhere made me feel like things might turn out okay.

I want to take another trip. Not a long one, maybe just a weekend away. First I thought I’d do it this long weekend, but my brother’s coming home tomorrow, so I postponed it. Does anyone have any suggestions for a weekend getaway close to Delhi/Jaipur?

I’m glad he’s going to be home, though. Because it takes the focus off me. I’m not very good with being the only child around.

Yesterday my Yoga instructor twisted my body into inhuman shapes during what he called ‘therapy yoga’ and then told me that I have a very flexible body for someone with my weight. That made me very happy.

***

This evening, a friend picked me up from home and we were just driving around the market trying to decide what to eat.

Me: Do we want to go to Burger Farm? But that’s too many calories.

She: Maybe the spinach toast at CCD?

Me: Maybe. Who are you calling?

She: My mom. To tell her I’ll be late. You think of where we can go, just don’t say it out loud or mumma will hear you.

Me: You know that other 25-year-old girls hide boyfriends, sex, drugs and alcohol from their mothers, right? What are we hiding? Food. 

She: I can't decide if that's pathetic or funny.

***

The search for a mind-blowing book continues.

I woke up this morning drowning in existential angst – the kind I haven’t felt in a couple of months. Last night, in an attempt to distract myself, I poked the bear and got an earful in return. I had to hear (or read) things I didn’t want to, hurtful things that were dramatic but also a little true. And then I cried while watching Enough Said. When you’re sobbing through a romcom, you know shit is hitting the fan.

So this morning when I woke up, I was in a bad mood. But then I watched The Princess Diaries 2 on TV, which I don’t even like that much, but it’s Mia Thermopolis in some form, so it was fine. Then I watched The Hundred-Foot Journey, which a friend has raved about in the past. I loved it. It made me want to learn how to cook and live in a small French village (I know that I’ll hate that kind of life, but still). And then I watched Julie and Julia, which I’ve already seen some five times. I fell asleep in the middle of it and woke up hungry.

There are two kinds of movies that make me want the protagonist’s job – dance movies and chef movies. I love dancing and I hate cooking. But since I had no way of dancing today, I decided to cook. I told my mother I’ll make paneer tonight. She tried not to look too thrilled and jinx this turn of events. So I made paneer, the really basic kind. Just marinate it and shallow fry, no curry, nothing. But it was still cooking, it was still me spending 10 minutes in the kitchen, which is a progress from zero.

I’m watching this really average movie called This Is 40 right now, but overall it wasn’t a bad Sunday.

I spent all of today figuring out my Myers–Briggs personality type (ENFP, if you’re interested), finishing a very uncomplicated YA novel, putting off making an uncomfortable phone call and thinking about the birthday boy (which I really shouldn’t have wasted so much time on). But it’s not like I had anything else to do – my days are just that easy breezy now. I was supposed to work on my resume but I didn’t, because even a little work seems like too much work these days. I’m surprised at how chilled out I am about this sabbatical. The last time I didn’t have a job, right after my internship, I was losing my mind. Now, even though I’m very aware of my joblessness, I’m not freaking out. Yet.

I still miss Delhi too much, though. Far more than I used to when I was still working.

Things I thought about when I was supposed to be meditating in yoga class today

Am I going bald?

My right arm really hurts.

Have I burned all the calories I consumed in last night’s gigantic meal?

It’s so hot.

How dare this woman tell her 5-year-old to exercise or “you’ll become motu”?

How can I think about doing Vipasana if I can’t even meditate for 2 minutes?

Oh my God, it’s his birthday tomorrow. How am I supposed to act?

Can we please turn the fans on again?

My shows are back today! I just hope the Wi-Fi is working properly.

Thank God I don’t have to go to the doctor today.

Meri desi look, meri desi look, meri – ugh, why is this song stuck in my head!

Maybe I should do 20 more Surya Namaskars to make up for eating the noodles.

Can I open my eyes now?

While driving to my zumba class this morning, I saw the metro. Because this is the city I live in with my parents, a car and a driving license, I never have to take the public transport. At the most I take autos from malls because I still can’t do underground parking (which should be the next thing on my agenda). It’s been almost four months since the Jaipur Metro began operations and I’ve seen it maybe thrice.

But this morning when I saw it, when I was already 20 minutes late for class, I almost stopped my car to just stare at it. Because in this city that is definitely not Delhi, the low-floor buses and the metro confuse me a lot. Every time I see them I have to stop for a second to figure out where I am. And every time I realize that I'm not in Delhi anymore. Even though zumba and yoga are so intense I can’t really dwell on anything in those classes, seeing the metro only exacerbated what I’d been feeling for the last couple of days – a yearning for Delhi. For the city, not the people. For my places, not my friends.

I don’t know why. Maybe because I finally have some time to myself? Maybe because I watch too much American TV and sometimes miss the Delhi life that didn’t really exist – the walking around markets, sitting in cafes laughing with friends? Maybe because it’s raining?

I could take a trip to Delhi, of course. I have lots of friends there. But there are a few, um, issues that I’d have to deal with if I go. And I don’t think I’m ready for that confrontation yet.

In other news, I’m desperately looking for amazing, devastating books to read. Please recommend?

50 questions

I saw this on berlin-artparasites and decided to do it here because this is too personal for Facebook (and I don’t want this blog to die before it’s even born). You’re free to pick this up if you want.

1: What would you name your future daughter?
Redacted

2: Do you miss anyone?
Not particularly

3: What if I told you that you were pretty?
I’d say thank you

4: Ever been told “it’s not you, it’s me”?
Yes, at 19. It shaped me in so many ways.

5: What are you looking forward to in the next week?
A friend’s wedding

6: Did you go out or stay in last night?
Stayed in

7: How late did you stay up last night?
Till 1am

8: Honestly, has anyone seen you in your underwear in the past 3 months?
Yes

9: What were you doing at 12:30 this afternoon?
I was cleaning my desk

10: Have you ever told somebody you loved them and not actually meant it?
No

11: Could you go for the rest of your life without drinking alcohol?
Yes, just like I’ve gone 25 years without it

12: Have you pretended to like someone?
Haven’t you?

13: Could you go the rest of your life without smoking a cigarette?
Yes, just like I’ve gone 25 years without it

14: Is there one person in your life that can always make you smile?
Always? I doubt it.

15: Is it hard for you to get over someone?
Yes

16: Think back five months ago, were you single?
Yes

17: Have you ever cried from being so mad?
Oh, yes

18: Hold hands with anyone this week?
Not romantically, no

19: Did your last kiss take place in/on a bed?
No

20: Who did you last see in person?
My mother

21: What is the last thing you said out lot?
But you can’t go out on Tuesday. You’ll have to put eyeliner for me – to my mother

22: Have you kissed three or more people in one night?
No

23: Have you ever been to Paris?
No

24: Are you good at hiding your feelings?
Yes

25: Do you use chap stick?
ALWAYS

26: Who did you last share a bed with?
My nani

27: Are you listening to music right now?
No

28: What is something you currently want right now?
To lose weight

29: Were your last three kisses from the same person?
Yes

30: How is your heart lately?
It’s just fine.

31: Do you wear the hood on your hoodie?
Yes

32: When was the last time a member of the opposite sex hugged you?
13 days ago

33: What do people call you?
Redacted

34: Have you ever wanted to tell someone something but didn’t?
Haven’t you?

35: Are there any stressful situations in your life?
A few

36: What are you listening to right now?
The hum of the AC in my room

37: What is wrong with you right now?
My throat itches a little.

38: Love really is a beautiful thing huh?
Meh. It’s overrated.

39: Do you make wishes at 11:11?
I make wishes every minute.

40: What is on your wrists right now?
Kalawa from two different pujas

41: Are you single/taken/heartbroken/confused/waiting for the unexpected?
I’m not single, but I’m not taken either.

42: Where did you get the shirt/sweatshirt you’re wearing?
My mother got it for me.

43: Have you ever regretted kissing someone?
Yes

44: Have you hugged someone within the last week?
Yes

45: Have you kissed anyone in the last five days?
No

46: What were you doing at midnight last night?
I was reading Three Wishes by Liane Moriarty.

47: Do you miss the way things were six months ago?
Not at all.

48: Would you rather sleep with someone else or alone?
Alone

49: Have you ever been to New York?
No

50: Think of the last person who said I love you, do you think they meant it?
Yes

Although of course you end up becoming yourself*

Thirty-eight days since I’ve been jobless.

Contrary to what I’d thought, I’m not dying. I’m alive and thriving. In the last 38 days, I’ve thrown a bachelorette party, I’ve taken a vacation, I’ve started doing yoga, and I’ve broken someone’s heart. None of these things sound like they are about me, which is why I decided that I needed a new identity. A new blog, a new name, a new everything. Isn’t that what I’ve been trying to do – wiping the slate clean? And since that’s never going to happen in real life – refer post title – the least I can do is wipe my online slate clean. The previous blog had so much baggage that if it were a person it’d need two sessions of therapy daily.

I don’t know how much of a fresh start this is going to be. I could just as well fall back into old patterns and kill whatever is left of my spirit. But something tells me there’s a better chance of me making it through this time. And the narcissist that I am, even though I don’t feel like writing a lot these days, I want to document the whole process.

I’m re-reading The Sky Is Everywhere these days, and it’s making my heart sing. I’m also watching Californication for the first time, and it gives me so much hope for anyone who can’t seem to stop screwing up.

*Title credit goes directly to a friend and indirectly to David Lipsky.