Oh October!

I don't know where October went. I do know that it snowed in October, the scariest thing about this Halloween. My mom left in the middle of October, the teacher's strike started the next day, and the subsequent eleven work days were..something else. We returned to regular work on a Friday, and it was disorienting to say the least. I think the weekend helped in resetting. It's been busy, good busy, but still busy. I still haven't figured out the complete trick to getting my mind to quiet down completely so I have a million thoughts flitting at any given moment. That's a stressful mind space, it does make me feel that in addition to whatever I am worrying about, there are things I am forgetting to worry about.  

Everyday Bag(gage?): What I Carry With Me

Current Handbag: Seville Tote and Shell by Lo and Sons

Ever since I can remember, I've been called some version of a Bag Lady and it's a pretty appropriate moniker. To be fair, I used to travel from Noida to college in North Campus, and then to work in Gurgaon. College had no clean water and toilets that didn't work. Work had long days (I'm talking 9 pm). So... it made sense I had so many bags. Of course, the weight took a toll on my back and shoulders and every once in a while, my back would seize up. Also, I start out organized but I am not the best at staying organized and so my handbag would become a black hole of sorts. If I needed one thing, six would have to come out first. As I turned thirty, I started to care more -- about the weight of things on me, about the look of things on me, and the ease of finding things. And lo and behold, there was Lo and Sons (see what I did there ha). A colleague introduced me to the brand and did a demo with her bag, where she was able to pull out both an orange and a pair of pumps and I was hooked. It's definitely a cult phenomenon, and if you are used to buying bags from TJ Maxx or Target, on the pricier side. I think it's worth the investment -- I was lucky that I got my first bag (The O.G.) at a Crossroads consignment shelf. Earlier this year I was ready to upgrade to a sleeker exterior, and I bought The Seville on a sale. I could go on and on about how structured and intuitive the inside pockets of Lo and Sons' bags are -- they are made for people who travel for work (so.. most of us). 

I'm also very curious about what other women carry in their handbags and purses, and confounded by those who are able to travel only with a crossbody (it's a mixture of admiration and envy, and not judgement). I'm a sucker for all the articles about what's in your bag types of articles and videos. I've been wanting to unpack mine for a minute -- both actually and in words as well. Today happened to be a holiday, and I had both the wish and energy to do this aka the Venn diagram space where life outside work happens. If you are still here for the ride, here we go :)

Phase I: Dumping It All Out

Alright so what you are seeing here is what happens when I randomly clutch things from the bag and dump them on the floor. The inside of the bag was not this chaotic (I think). Still it's a lot and I try to keep my stuff in categories but that clearly was not what happened here.

Mornings

Preach

Someone left this in the sink at work and I'd like to find them and be friends with them. My mornings are anything but magical. They have gotten better over the years and I usually leave the house put-together but still. I love waking up and then going back to sleep, it feels so luxurious. But that's really not great for if you truly need to be up and out of the house. I have a medium-sized clock on the wall, in addition to the alarm. Also what's nice about my current apartment is that there is natural light. Ideally, I'd want bigger windows and more light but compared to my last room (one window directly facing another building), I'd take this any day. TL;DR mornings are tough but have gotten better over the years and I'll take that. 

Not Lucky but Favored

Two weekends ago, I had what I can only call a lucky weekend. In a span of 24 hours, I dropped my cellphone in an Uber and honestly I had no idea what to do. I kept trying to use the Uber platform to report a lost item but as has been my experience, it was frustrating and pointless. I kept going outside in the hope that perhaps the phone had fallen somewhere and I would spot it. While that did not happen, what did happen is that the Uber driver who came back with my phone, simply because of the goodness of his heart. Of course I gave him money (the largest bill I had) to thank him; nobody should be expected to perform this for free. I know all the possible outcomes and the fact that this one happened was very, very sobering and heartening.

The next day I was throwing out some trash (for context, there are eight giant dumpsters outside the building). The first few were full and I went to the ones at the end. On my way back, I looked left and saw an overturned earring that reminded me of one of my favorite earrings. I picked it up and it was exactly like my earring. I brought it back with me and of course, it was mine. How I managed to throw it out is not something I know but what I do know is that it was incredibly lucky. I was telling one of my closest friends about this and she said, you are not lucky, you are favored. It was such a lovely sentiment, it will likely stay with me all my life.

What do we do when the internet fails us

My favorite is the one above

So the internet at work is down. Two hours into the work day, it stopped. Four hours later we learned it wasn’t going to come back on for the rest of the working day. Still, no one told us we could leave, so here were most people, hanging out, catching up, taking walks outside, where spring has started showing the promise of summer. I could complain about the day I lost but I’d rather think of it as a day I got unexpectedly. It is (and is not in some ways) surprising how crippling it is to not have internet access. It’s been slim pickings for writing. I don’t have coherent long-form thoughts around any one topic. Instead my mind flits from mental space to physical space and back and forth and so we go on. Life is busy, busy enough I would say, but not the pace of busy I am used to. This is interesting; I had some idea about how “on” I always was but until recently I hadn’t been able to quantify the hours it consumed. On a lighter day, I did so many things I was appalled, because I seem to be deeply invested in doing, much more so than I had thought.

When Mother Comes to Visit

My mom is visiting. It's becoming a tradition that when she visits I plan a short trip somewhere fun and frivolous. Last year it was Universal in Orlando. This year we are in Los Angeles, a city that was the first city in this country that I visited. I was sick at the time and bewildered by the enormity and how to navigate my way around. But I remember the trip to Universal and Disneyland as being marvelous, if only because of how far removed they were from anything real. Between that memory and S's gushing praise for the city from a recent visit, the plan was solidified.

Getting her from Chicago was not a nightmare even though our original flight was delayed enough for us to have missed our connecting flight and so Southwest rebooked us onto a direct flight with no fuss. Our suitcase didn't arrive with us and honestly it was remarkable how easily they found it and delivered it to our hotel. I was both grateful and also unperturbed by this -- losing a suitcase is not fun but it is also not the worst thing that could happen. As long as all lives and limbs are intact, it could always have been worse.

Yesterday was spent taking a bus tour of..well not just LA but also surrounding cities. Griffith Observatory has to be my favorite and if I ever come back, I plan to hike the trails there. Everything else, Venice Beach, Santa Monica, Rodeo Drive, while entertaining was so far removed from what I think of as reality that it didn't really interest me much. Learning about the likes of Petra Ecclestone is hardly a way to feel good about yourself and I am working hard to avoid comparisons these days, I find that I am leaning too easily into the dissatisfaction that comes with them. Hollywood boulevard was lively and had stores we could enter knowing that of something catches our eye, we could buy it (Marshall's, Forever 21). It was also good for souvenirs (I'm a sucker for a whimsical magnet).

I type this from a 30 minute long queue for a Matterhorn ride that better be something special because this is an interminable line, further disenchanting me from this fairytale world.

My favorite part so far is the fact that my mom and I both enjoy the downtime at the end of a day full of touristy activities. Being able to buy my own wine (as opposed to the exorbitant hotel prices) also makes my holiday better.

Almost October

 Last week was oddly stressful. There was a surprise meeting with no details and that is never a good sign. This however was a an appreciation meeting, all the more reason for people to use the details section of a calendar invite but oh well.

I do puzzles almost each night, a little bit, it works very well for my brain. This is a 1000 (minus one lost piece) puzzle that I just finished. After this, the big pieces of a 500 piece puzzles seems inelegant and bulky.

I visited a Little Friendly Library (actually two) for the first time. I love the idea, the selections were...meh but that means zilch. I am glad they exist. I have been reading a lot more lately, partly because I bike to the local library some weekends (my bike rides are more fun if I have a purpose such as groceries or books)

Septembers/End of Summer

The days are flying by, so sometimes I let the weekends crawl and it feels glorious except when I remember the entirely uncertain premise my life is built on here and all the things that remain undone or unlisted or un-imagined. Also I got a matching night suit set and it makes me feel much more grown up. As does the weight, a general sense of worry about the little family I have, the dawning realization the different forms drifting can take. This may not be my last city stop in life and that is, as the kids would say, totes okay, but that won't stop me from slowing down just so I can remember some moments.

And suddenly its August

Chicago evenings

It has been a while hasn't it? To be fair, between April and now, things have been very uncertain (more so than in general) and so I was mostly focused on existing, ping ponging between stress and coping, stress and coping, mostly unhealthy ways of the latter. I honestly don't remember much until early July for what it is worth, although I know a lot happened. I was out at a park with a friend today and this was around 8:30 pm -- the days are getting shorter and summers are coming to an end. My fourth summer in Chicago, if you can believe it. I can hardly believe it.

On Languages

This a piece I wrote a long time ago and I think it never got published anywhere (not as far as I can remember) so here it is:

Learn English! Learn Spanish! Learn French!
Brightly colored billboards dot highways, city streets, town alleys all over the world. They promise you a job, a better life, the entire world in an unreasonable span of time. Their lurid colors and bold fonts mask the dismalness of your life and firmly position language as your exit path to the promised land. Language, not for love, not for life, but to escape.

I’ve always loved languages, because they allow me to lament. To lament the loss that was given to me in my childhood and has carried me all the way to my adulthood. This is the companion of a lifetime, more constant than any loves and hatreds. At this point in my life I have lost an entire country and several cities and the counting hasn’t stopped. Of course, I must not be unfair. If I look at the scorecard, there are countless additions as well. Researchers claim that women have a richer vocabulary than men; feel free to blame my voraciousness on that. All I ask is that you allow me to put you in the category of people who need gender binaries to navigate the world. A stereotype for a stereotype is only fair.

Loss

One of my all time favorite poems is One Art by Elizabeth Bishop. Every time I read it, the words just pull me in a little bit more. How could they not?

"The art of losing isn’t hard to master;

so many things seem filled with the intent

to be lost that their loss is no disaster.


Lose something every day. Accept the fluster

of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.

The art of losing isn’t hard to master."

I think about these lines a lot, especially in the past year or so. A lot has been lost and most of it never really belonged to me. When I am feeling particularly self-indulgent, I tell myself, what have I not lost? I have lost a parent who I never really felt I had. Now in my early thirties I feel that I have lost my youthfulness, whatever that ephemeral term meant. I have also lost my metabolism and that is a pretty concrete concept. 

The Loneliness I Choose/ The Art of Traveling Without Ambition

(old piece)

I am finally convinced, after years of fighting it, that loneliness is part of our human experience. The people I like the best are the ones who can't, won't dim the discomfort of questions and doubt. I am never sure if I am my best, happiest self when living my life on my own terms. All I know is that I do not know how else to live it. Along the way I have learned that the adjective brave is awarded freely, even to actions that are steps away from cowardice. I think of my leaving home, I think of my time in graduate school, I think of moving and I know that there is more privilege and necessity in these periods than there is brave.

Day 6 and 7

It has been busy, busy enough that there was little time to write and post this. But today is Saturday night, I have had one of the best naps of my life and I am wide awake in a way I never am in the week. I am a little bored and not in the mood to work. To be honest, I am not in the mood for computer screens either. I've been apartment hunting and that was the only thing I left the house for today.

Day 5, calmly chaotic

Today started early. Early mornings are tricky for me but I made it to work. We were out for a site visit and when I returned to work, my very nice colleague had gone to the new gym that opened close to us and got me a free yoga mat as instructed (I don't need it, I just wanted some free swag). I had a chance to attend an event about equitable funding, take the Metra, and meet a friend who I am very fond of. It was a day full of a lot of different things but even though the sum of it felt chaotic, I did not let it get to me. I have the fleeting thought that I'm forgetting to worry about something, that I shouldn't be as calm as I feel. But that will pass. I'm absorbing every single details of the Poirot series on Netflix. I am grateful today for how rich my life is in the different kinds of experiences I have, places I go to and people I meet. I am also glad I am occasionally able to remember how meaningful each individual piece even if the sum is overwhelming.

Day 4, rested and thoughtful

Despite my usual waking up to work emails routine, I caught a quick second nap and woke up rested. Take a second with that, I woke up rested. It doesn't happen. My whole work day had no meetings and I got a lot done, while not on constant alert. Being constantly hyperaware is exhausting and I've only recently started to notice how unconsciously tense I am. It was a calmer day, it was a good day. I made some progress with hiring for the team I am building and it reminds me that I am doing something here. Days like this, I don't mind the long hours. Towards the end, I was chatting with colleagues and it was convivial, a pleasant in-between moment between leaving work and being back home/outside. I'm out in the field tomorrow and that will be interesting -- I think the key to this week has been the number of unexpected and new experiences. They keep me curious. I think day 4 was full of more aware gratitude :)

Not ready to talk

Grief is a complicated, hydra-headed beast.

Auto-pilot

It's been a while and so I am not going to try and catch you up on all that has happened (mainly a long trip home). I have been back for about five days and I've realized that while I am physically back, mentally I'm still floating somewhere in-between.

A Round Up of Daily Tragedies

I was born as Wednesday’s child of woe and I thrive in lamenting daily losses , both mine and yours. The little big things, the invisiblia and obscure paraphernalia of the everyday normal. Think of this as your daily wrap-up of today’s tragedies that went by without notice or pause. The involuntary shoulder shakes of the woman with sandy hair thrown messily into a bun 20 years too young for her. The endless sparkle of city lights from the window of a building I will only be allowed to enter once. The cracks in the pavement leading to the bus stop, unnoticed by the city, just like the rest of the neighborhood. The unexpected kind words of a strange man I encounter at the train station — I cannot lie, my first instinct was (and always is) fear. The gentle cajoling smile on the face of the young man selling his poetry downtown. The homeless father-daughter duo, offering blessings to disappointed downtowners.

How to break a brown girl

I wrote this at https://quntfront.com/2016/05/10/how-to-break-a-brown-girl/
(Go read. With humor)

"Well for starters, you take her out of her (brown) country and put her in a white one. This way you make her realize she is brown, a lower-ranked pawn in the chessboard of colors. This is just the beginning. Repeatedly and loudly compliment her on her command of the English language, so that she does not forget that she is foreign, that language too is a colonial legacy, over which she has flimsy claim. Ask her if she learned how to speak so fluently from the movies or her parents (because they belong together on the spectrum of parenting)."

Pause

I paused the other day and realized I was living the life I had seen other people live but somehow thought I would avoid - a messy, complex life, full of joy and grief at the same time, with no easy answers or resolutions. I was living in the gray, my black and white filter being rendered useless at the first hint of adult life. I am learning that compassion and compromise are not negotiable. What a messy, messy life. Who knew it would be like this. I find and lose things, I find and lose friends, I find and lose myself. I am not the constant I imagined growing up into.I try and live in the occasional kind moments. I remind myself goodenough, goodenough, goodenough. Live in the goodenough, stay, be kind, be here.