Whatever

These days go about in a shroud of gloom I am not able to place at all. Something about an impending gloom. I get sudden inspirations to work and then lose it all: be it blogging, running, whatever. I write blogs and delete them. I am kind of stuck with this desultory attitude. I am restless at work and even more so at home.

I don’t sleep well. Sleep has gone out of the eyes. I seem to be doing a lot of thinking though. Too much. It is not about the H1-B. For me as far as I am considered, with the Lord by my side, it is a win-win situation. I can be anywhere and happy. But something is disturbing. Amma. Amma. Amma.

Yesterday, I dreamed of my Patti dying. Then I woke up and realized it was all a dream. Thank God!

I cook splendidly. I made tomato thokku and it came out amazing. I made uthapam recently and it was also a hit. But when it comes to steady concentration, I do not have any.

All my plans for studying for my MBA are going a waste. The subscription to Wall street Journal might have been for the wall. I do not even open my mail box to get it out, let alone read it.

My plans to learn Divya Prabhandam are in total disarray. I am not even close to re-mastering what I had learnt a good 100 Pasurams from Periyalwar Thirumozhi.

Everything I start seems to go to naught. I do not know why. I am planning to start a garden. I must work on it a bit. I keep looking at the clock incessantly at work. To get home. To look at the clock again.

Every minute of my life seems to be running a fight against time or something. I am not aware of what though.

I keep thinking of what to do when I get back to India permanently. Start learning dance, violin, kovil, kalakshetra, vaishnavism, Vaazhkai, amma, appa, Perumal, maybe get married and settle down in Adyar. (Do not know why though).

It is all a chimera. I am losing contact with anything outside my home. That is my problem. Long drives, lovely lunches, beautifully maintained apartment, music, nothing means a thing when you do not have a friend to share it with. So why can’t I make friends with Americans? I do not know. It wasn’t as though I did not try. It is only that people are either too old or too young for me. This is a town for happily marrieds. I am a happily single person. Hmmm. Things are taking a toll. Let’s see what happens. An outpouring meant to help me think. So no comments for this blog!


And I just noticed this. It is my 100th Post. What a sob story. I have a good mind to delete this blog!