Lapses of lingy…

Ms Coy.

Aww!

Mom trying to sneak a kiss!

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So, as usual I was crooning to this motley crew of suits and garralous people enjoying drinks and dinner, and this one man (simple, dignified type, very forgettably dressed) walks up to me and says he is enjoying the music immensly. I smile and ask him if he wants me to sing something special.

“No, whatever you like,” he says, slipping a crisp note into the palm of my hand, a sign of appreciation. Before he left for the evening, he hands me his business card. Turns out he’s the GM of THE top bank. My eyes popped.

How appearences lie.

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A very quotable quote by a good friend of a good friend, I thought!

On a different note, a pal of mine made an interesting observation with respect to creative satisfaction and work. Many of use in creative professions, expect a 100 per cent return on creative satisfaction from our jobs – it is a platform for expression and every thing that goes with it. And we want to be exploited (for lack of a better word), creatively.

When it doesn’t happen, we feel depraved (for lack of a better word), agitated, and creatively challenged. So, how do we cope with these dry spells? Her suggestion: find other platforms to express our creativity.

And I don’t mean as a passive spectator who watches and appreciates a good movie. Or reads a book and then waxes eloquent about it. O no! This commitment must be active, and related to any talent possessed by you (partying and pub-hopping are NOT counted!).

Write a book. Cut a short film. Teach. Participate in theatre. Croon at a nightclub. Work for a charity. However, the bottom-line is to treat this part-time occupation, as you would if you were a professional. Who knows – there might be a bottom-line too, literally (even if it is a pittance).

I know this one enterprising chap who has a full-time job with a corporate, and moonlights as a teacher on weekends. He relishing his teaching experience, and the extra moolah does not hurt. He also does back-up vocals for Bollywood flicks.

Yes, luck kisses the bold and the enterprising.

On a different note, I like Senator Obama’s thoughts on leadership in this peice on Rediff. Do have a peek. I think we need to replicate these ideas in India, in politics and in the corporate arena.

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Valentine’s Day this year was rather…yawn. Every year the usual suspects whip up a last minute eating out plan at some packed restaurant, where we have to wait eons before setting a toe in.

This year I took great pleasure in doing nothing. To work and back. A nice home-cooked meal whipped up by yours truly. And some mushy screen romances, speaking of which, here are my two cents-timents for V-day.

On a different note, a mad friend of mind in a moment of inspiration chose to describe moi in these words:

She’s a charming wild woman who knows no numbers or age. Give her a topic and she will engage you, seduce you into believing her.

By ‘no numbers’, he means that my Math is poor. Now little did he know that it is in fact very good and by virtue of this I made good grades in the Math papers, in school. Later he admitted that this phrase made the rhyming a whole lot easier. Poetry of convenience, I call it!

And more paeans from another male friend: Never let her sing to you, her voice like a siren will lull and excite you at the same time, will liberate you and captivate your soul. You cannot be set free!

O joy!

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Sometimes nice things happen, spontaneously. Stuff that warms the cockles of the heart.

An elderly gentlemen who was waiting his turn outside the ATM kiosk, allowed me to cut in. He said, “I am retired. You are working. I can wait. You are in a hurry.” Luckily, two stations were vacant, so both of us did not have to wait.

Later in the day, as my cab broke the yellow light by just a nanosecond, the cop flagged us down and our driver was about to be fined. Twas’ one of those days when I was in a great mood, and joyful smiles (the ear-to-ear kind) were forthcoming. I stuck my head out and told the cop,” Janne do na?” To my surprise the cop broke into an animated monologue (as we made like a tree) about how women rule the world, and must be listened to, and how he listens to his wife, who always has smart things to say!

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Why is it so hard for even the best of us to support close friends, unconditionally?

Why do we unleash our perfect, unsoliticted advice, when all they want from us, is the simple reassurance that we are there?

Why is that some of us are competitive even with close friends – praising and recognising the obvious virtues of others, but not those of whom we consider close, but do not acknowledge let alone support?

I think of my grandmother, and wonder how she would tackle these seemingly simple dynamics. And the answers come to me, swiftly. 

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