The Last Supper

Seems like only the other day. A bright sunny day coming to its end, signalled by the customary splashing of crimson over the sky. My first day at Santa Cruz and we were headed for a small diner near my first and only home in the small sleepy town. That was when we had met – two of us, just landed, new to the place, being accompanied by a senior each. There was so much to look forward to, so much to take in of the people, place – of people who would be like family for the coming years, people who would step up to somewhat fill in the void created by old friends to the best of their possibilities. Three years can zoom by so fast! A different diner, some different people in totally different stages of life, and a totally different reason. Of course, the natural adult way to handle the situation was to almost deny the cause of this haphazardly planned cozy get-together. Handsome helpings of leg pulling and friendly camaraderie easily made five of us the most noisy crowd in that place. True to our nature, we celebrated the journey over the years, one that came to an abrupt halt for one of us. As I part ways with yet another close friend, the heart grows heavy, the mind races back to all those occasions when similar situations presented themselves at different times of my life. Sometimes I would be the one leaving, moving on as they say. But that is not easily done for me.

Seems like all I can do is wish him the very best for his future endeavours, and hope that our paths cross once again. As he would probably put it – “An Indian”  has left the US. As for me, I just hope he decides to return for another stint.

Back on the block

Either I am not inspired enough, or my inspirations don’t end up making their way to this blog. You can thank Facebook and the likes for that, I guess. With that finger pointing, I dissassociate myself from the frequent irregularities of my blogging. What usually gets me back on this block is a post or a blog of a friend or acquaintance that reminds me that I might have something to share. And usually, by the time I start typing in words, the whole subject of the post becomes lost. Lost, either in the rather large number of items that I would like to get off my chest, or the lack thereof. This is usually followed by reading the few sentences that I have written back to myself, deciding it’s no good, and then a select all and a firm punch of the delete key. Today, I decided to skip the last step.

My parents just celebrated their stepping into their 31st year together. I kept reminding myself of the date to take the time to wish them on the feat. Needless to say, come the day, I totally forgot about it and remembered while on a general phone call with my Mom, unfortunately only after a generous serving of hints from her. Shame shame. Strike two. Last time it was her brithday.

Usually on such occasions, I gift them an enjoyable dinner at my (financial) expense. This year, they decided to take the whole extended family along. I can well imagine the cacophony of voices of varying age groups. As they say : Having multiple generations at the table together – Priceless. In my quest to pursue who-knows-what, I find myself constantly missing such get-togethers, important ones and otherwise. I end up questioning the wisdom of staying away from friends and family for a better life. Better? Says who? On my part, I would gladly endure the static herd of vehicular traffic, or the lack thereof on a bandh day, to be able to enjoy the comfort of the joint family. But here I am, gathering a collection of iPhones and Blackberries and large screen TVs, caught up in the world of material comforts, perhaps trying to fill that void that some say is the American dream. Why is it lost on people that the phone we are talking on is worthless compared to the person on the other end, the TV unimportant compared to the people around it. Perhaps enjoying the comfort of both is the best of both worlds, but given a choice between the two – I choose to be a people person.