As a result of my last entry I have dealt with my emotional turmoil and have formulated a conclusion: I suppose the key to happiness is that one shouldn't care. Take life as a joke...as lila...divine play. At least this is what Swamiji said in that book. It does make sense though. Don't take everything so seriously. Don't expect anything to turn out the way you want to because things don't usually turn out the way you expect anyway. However, in the end it all makes sense. Everything that happens is connected to everything else. Anyway, life is usually hilarious if you think about it.
The other day A.A and I were at the desi store and we had just been talking about a having a nice South Indian, Kerala-style meal. The only South Indian restaurants I knew of were way on the other side of town in any direction from here. As we were lamenting this tragedy borne out of cultural isolation, we saw a flyer for a new restaurant not too far from where we live. You should have seen our eyes light up! South Indian food! Chettinad style! How much more Kerala/Tamil Nadu can you get?
Anyway, so we went there yesterday. It was fabulous and all of us really enjoyed the food. It's funny because when I was growing up, I hated dosas, idlis, sambar and vada....I don't know why. I guess being in Desi Land for 3 years really brain-washed my palate, so to speak.
I don't think there is even an ethnographic catergory for people like me yet. What am I? ABCD turned FOB? Is there such a thing? How is that possible? Or am I an ABAD? American Born-Again Desi...an ABCD who has been awakened to his/her Desi-ness? You know how much I despise labels because they are attached to essentialisms...An essentialism (stereotype), for example, would be that all ABCDs go clubbin' at clubs that have a semi-Desi atmosphere. However, I think labels allow one to have a sense of belonging. Like, I know how FOBS are....generally....I know how ABCDs act ....generally....I know how Americans are..generally...I guess essentialisms give you some handle on how people are and how to approach them. I don't think we could function without them. Until you know someone, it is difficult to see them beyond their label. It's always a good surprise when they realize you are different from your label. I guess people become more aware then.
Examples of label-busting: Yes, I'm Christian though I'm from India. No, I am not an authority on India though my parents are from there. No, I don't go clubbing with all of my cousins though I'm an ABCD. No, I don't know how to make parathas though I lived in India. No, I don't drink, smoke pot, and act promiscuous because I was born in America. Yes, I do speak Malayalam fluently though I'm an ABCD. No, I don't want to be treated like a princess though I am a woman. No, I don't speak Hindi though I lived in India for three years. No, I'm not a computer science major though I am Indian. No, I have not yet resigned to an arranged marriage though my parents want me to. No, all my close friends aren't ABCDs. No, I'm not anti-FOB because I'm an ABCD. Yes, I have anti-ABCD sentiments though I am one. No, I don't have temper tantrums every three weeks, on the dot, though I am a woman. My dad does not work at a gas station though I'm Indian We do not live in Stafford or Sugarland though I'm Malayalee.
AND NO, supari is not addictive, I just like it a LOT! Hehe.
Anyway, maybe that's why I went into this field. Maybe I'm a quintessential label-buster. I do enjoy it tremendously
Sunday, November 23, 2003
Friday, November 21, 2003
A Four Letter Word
sLove is a four-letter word.
I keep having these horrible dreams about my friends. I mean, not horrible in the sense that something bad is going to happen to them but horrible in the sense that my friendship with them is ruined by something that happened. But the thing is, in my dream, I feel like the perpetual victim but, in actuality, the fault is all mine. I used to have issues with feeling too much for people. Feeling too possessive. Feeling too attached to people. And then I got hurt over and over again. From then onwards, I didn't want to trust anyone anymore with my feelings.
Sure, people say that it is better to have loved and lost then never to have loved at all. However, I feel like I'm stuck in the perception that it's the other way around--better to have never loved than loved and lost. I know I'm talking about love but it all comes down to that, doesn't it? It's not that you either love them or you don't...no, it can never be that simple. It is more like to what degree you love them. That's where my dilemma lies. I have loved, to some degree, all the people who have made some impact in my life. But I'm stupid to love. It is stupid to love because then you expect to be loved back. And that doesn't always happen. It hurts more to know that you were never loved back. I'd rather not know, I think. Which is why I don't wear my stupid bruised heart on my sleeve anymore. Why I shy away from people who want to know me better. Why I appear aloof and sullen behind this wall of stoicism. Most people don't have the patience to find the "me" behind the wall and I suppose I don't make it any easier for them. The more they get closer the more afraid I become. Why should you care anymore? People just take advantage of your kindness. They take all they can and they sell the rest....like stupid frickin Blue Bell Ice Cream. I sound bitter. He he :)
I wanted to be a robot at one time. I didn't want to feel anything anymore. It is when you desire things that you feel disappointed when you don't get them.
Man. I sound horribly depressed. I'm not really. I'm just trying to make sense of my emotions. I was telling C.K. the other day that I have all this stuff trapped inside of me bursting to come out. She said you have to let go of your barriers. At the time, I didn't think there was a drawback to releasing your feelings because you then have unconditional positive regard for people. However, the drawback to letting it out is that you expect a little back. Is that so wrong? Sure, there are the few enlightened souls who selflessly give of their love and benevolence and want little or nothing in return, but I'm not there yet. At times I try to be, but then I am reminded, by these stupid dreams, for example, that I lack something. Like there is some kind of void that needs to be filled before I move on. Filled with what? I don't know. Perhaps the idea of my own self-reliance and sustainability?
You should never use the word "love" like an added bonus, something to go on top like a cherry or sugar sprinkles. Love should be the food that sustains you. If I say I love you, it is because I mean it.
Love is a four-letter word and can be just as harmful as the others. Use it only if you mean it.
That dumb dream last night made me cry like a sap even when writing this dumb melencholic entry. It is difficult to think that you give away a part of yourself...a part of your heart away... and it is just tossed in a box like some forgotten toy. Or perhaps ignored and stomped underfoot as people waltz all over the room oblivious to your existence. Or used as a temporary surrogate for something or someone else. Or even dissected piece by piece until there is nothing left but a faulty hypothesis.
Damn. I need a neuroleptic. Good night everyone.
I keep having these horrible dreams about my friends. I mean, not horrible in the sense that something bad is going to happen to them but horrible in the sense that my friendship with them is ruined by something that happened. But the thing is, in my dream, I feel like the perpetual victim but, in actuality, the fault is all mine. I used to have issues with feeling too much for people. Feeling too possessive. Feeling too attached to people. And then I got hurt over and over again. From then onwards, I didn't want to trust anyone anymore with my feelings.
Sure, people say that it is better to have loved and lost then never to have loved at all. However, I feel like I'm stuck in the perception that it's the other way around--better to have never loved than loved and lost. I know I'm talking about love but it all comes down to that, doesn't it? It's not that you either love them or you don't...no, it can never be that simple. It is more like to what degree you love them. That's where my dilemma lies. I have loved, to some degree, all the people who have made some impact in my life. But I'm stupid to love. It is stupid to love because then you expect to be loved back. And that doesn't always happen. It hurts more to know that you were never loved back. I'd rather not know, I think. Which is why I don't wear my stupid bruised heart on my sleeve anymore. Why I shy away from people who want to know me better. Why I appear aloof and sullen behind this wall of stoicism. Most people don't have the patience to find the "me" behind the wall and I suppose I don't make it any easier for them. The more they get closer the more afraid I become. Why should you care anymore? People just take advantage of your kindness. They take all they can and they sell the rest....like stupid frickin Blue Bell Ice Cream. I sound bitter. He he :)
I wanted to be a robot at one time. I didn't want to feel anything anymore. It is when you desire things that you feel disappointed when you don't get them.
Man. I sound horribly depressed. I'm not really. I'm just trying to make sense of my emotions. I was telling C.K. the other day that I have all this stuff trapped inside of me bursting to come out. She said you have to let go of your barriers. At the time, I didn't think there was a drawback to releasing your feelings because you then have unconditional positive regard for people. However, the drawback to letting it out is that you expect a little back. Is that so wrong? Sure, there are the few enlightened souls who selflessly give of their love and benevolence and want little or nothing in return, but I'm not there yet. At times I try to be, but then I am reminded, by these stupid dreams, for example, that I lack something. Like there is some kind of void that needs to be filled before I move on. Filled with what? I don't know. Perhaps the idea of my own self-reliance and sustainability?
You should never use the word "love" like an added bonus, something to go on top like a cherry or sugar sprinkles. Love should be the food that sustains you. If I say I love you, it is because I mean it.
Love is a four-letter word and can be just as harmful as the others. Use it only if you mean it.
That dumb dream last night made me cry like a sap even when writing this dumb melencholic entry. It is difficult to think that you give away a part of yourself...a part of your heart away... and it is just tossed in a box like some forgotten toy. Or perhaps ignored and stomped underfoot as people waltz all over the room oblivious to your existence. Or used as a temporary surrogate for something or someone else. Or even dissected piece by piece until there is nothing left but a faulty hypothesis.
Damn. I need a neuroleptic. Good night everyone.
Thursday, November 20, 2003
Desiness
I miss Bangalore. One of our friends is over there right now and I wish I could switch places with him. In spite of days of hostile hostel conditions, air n' noise pollution, peopleanimalscarsbusesbikesautos on the streets, no television, and not-quite-so-American burgers from a place called Stars and Stripes, I loved the place. I know the essence of "my" Bangalore is not the place itself but the people I met and the things I did there. The place triggers a lot of memories... but I know it can never be the same again....
I do miss Bangalore--the place, but I suppose I miss "my" Bangalore even more.
Yesterday A.A and I went to mini India on Highway 3 and we ended up buying Mehendi. We put it on our hands. It's funny how a lot of people know what a mehendi "tattoo" is now. When I was in high school people were like "What the hell happened to your hand?!" like you were some kind of I-draw-on-my-hand-when-I'm-bored-freak. I guess being Desi is in nowadays. Exoticism commodified as my professor would say. It's kind of weird now but what happens when we start going out of style? Is fashion-related recognition of our culture the height of societal acceptance and inclusion? What do you guys think?
I do miss Bangalore--the place, but I suppose I miss "my" Bangalore even more.
Yesterday A.A and I went to mini India on Highway 3 and we ended up buying Mehendi. We put it on our hands. It's funny how a lot of people know what a mehendi "tattoo" is now. When I was in high school people were like "What the hell happened to your hand?!" like you were some kind of I-draw-on-my-hand-when-I'm-bored-freak. I guess being Desi is in nowadays. Exoticism commodified as my professor would say. It's kind of weird now but what happens when we start going out of style? Is fashion-related recognition of our culture the height of societal acceptance and inclusion? What do you guys think?
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