I'm tired and I have a headache. Ramadhan, work and this stupid contest is a bad combination. I shouldn't say stupid though, we won the last round and got ourselves a Dell netbook each (yes, showing off) but on weekends when all I want to do is rest, it really gets on my nerves. And then the other teammates give me the impression that they live on steroids. Don't they need sleep? I am so not the energizer bunny.
I really don't have the energy or patience to write this out, but I miss my blog. Funny how much time we used to have back in college, so much in fact, that it got nauseating. Recently met a classmate from school in the office cab. (Both of us kept waiting and wondering if the other person was really who we thought she was, until I opened my big mouth and asked. And she said, "Really? You? But you were such a brilliant student, what are you doing here?" I didn't know whether to be offended or pleased.) Her team's also in this contest and we've been commuting together to the village office block. One day we went all nostalgic remembering our 'Moorkhas!' Hindi teacher and other namooney. Sigh, school life was so much more... full of life. It wasn't without its complications of course, the quarrels, the breakups between friends, gang politics, but it was still, living. This week at office passed by so quickly, that I found myself questioning Friday's arrival multiple times over Thursday night. Where does all the time go? Of course I know, I fill my timesheet every Monday, (creatively, as they label all sidey things in office). If there was a lifesheet to fill every week, it would definitely be depressingly blank. (My productivitywhee brain is now getting a trifle hyper with a 'make a lifesheet!' idea). Sigh.
You know who's definitely getting some fun out of her life? Ammy. But like everyone else around her, she's cramming so much more in so little time. She likes talking in gibberish that sounds like English. She apparently told Baba yesterday to 'Baba, aap english mein baat karo'. Is also suna-ing kahanis that go like, 'Ek ghar mein na ek mouse tha. Mouse na doctor ke paas gaya, aur Owwwwww bola. Doctor usko 'tain!' karey (tain is her word for injection). Khatm hogayi kahani!'
Yesterday, I decided to tell her a kahani, very much like hers (equally abrupt and silly too). And when I finshed, she said, 'Aur ek kahani bolo'. So I said the same kahani only substituting Ammaarah and the billi instead of the billi and the mouse. And she gleefully said, 'Aur ek kahani bolo'. And then I decided to get back to my wonderful life and said, 'Ab kal. Roz sirf do kahaniyaan, theek hai?' And she obediently agreed, poor thing.
Oh, and this conversation took place a coupla days ago:
I was talking in a particular tone with the lady and she was imitating me perfectly. So well, that I was awed and said:
Ammaaraaaaah, you're too much, Ammaarah! Toooooo muchhhh hain tum!
And she very sweetly, in a sing-song voice said, 'Jazakallah, Peemmi'
Too shocked to believe that this little mite had not only understood that it was a compliment but had thanked me for it, I said, 'Kya? Kyun Jazakallah?' And her mom said, 'Well, you complimented her, she thanked you!'
I said, 'Ammaaraaah, you're my staar! Tum mere star hain'
and she said, 'Hum star nai, Ammaarah hai'
Ammy, if you were on orkut, I'd add my name to your list of fans. And that IS an honour!
There is something about her voice that gives me an instant happiness tain. It amazes me that she not only understands what we say so well, but is intelligent enough to mimic us exactly, and tease us even though she's so little. Makes me slightly nervous to think how she's going to be when she grows up!
I bought an English translation of the Quran last week, and I think it's the best ninety rupees I've ever spent. There are some verses in the Quran that leave you speechless with their wisdom and beauty. And yest. when KF aunty was over, my heart was brimming over with contentment, thought that's not the word I'm looking for. It was more like quiet joy. I think people like her have a quality that only someone with a genuinely caring heart can have. Other people only try, but in her case you can feel a strong connection and makes you wish you could imbibe the same qualities. Remember reading somewhere, on Muslimmatters I guess, that people who remind the others of their creator will be blessed. I'm sure she must be one of them.
Spoke to N during the week. Her to-be sister-in-law had a baby girl and N was completely overwhelmed by the whole experience. "Such tiny little hands, such tiny feet and to imagine a whole person living inside someone else... it was just so..." and she trailed off. And I smiled to myself and wondered how people fail to see it for the miracle it is. Everything about the new born baby, from the unfused-skull bones to the un-fused vertebrae at the neck, all scream that they're designed so that the baby can be squeezed out without being hurt.
Why aren't there two month vacations at work? Maybe I should find myself a job like that. I wonder why we worry so much about validation. There are so many people I envy who do what they want to and aren't troubled by the Log-kya-kahenge syndrome. I don't want to cut myself off from civilization and run Into the Wild. But just a little more freedom, fewer conversations, fewer timesheets and other mind-numbing 'trackers', some unfettered living, is that too much to ask for? (Reminds me that a certain somebody thinks I am wild. Hee haa. That made me grin so much. Until I began comparing my life with some of my friends and thought, 'Me, wild?!' Naaaaah. But I like to think so, and like it that you think so too! :D)
On that temporary high note, we shall stop rambling. Maybe sleep a little.