Monthly Archives: January 2011

>Burnt Out

>Hidden signs of a burnout:
1. You’re physically exhausted all the time.
2. Caring about anything takes too much effort.
3. You’re feeling more and more detached from activities and people you were once passionate about.
4. You’re sleeping far less than you used to and your sleep is restless.
5. You’ve almost stopped socialising with your friends or make repititive excuses not to see them.
6. Your need to be in control is overwhelming.
7. You have lost interest in sex.
8. You refuse help from others and begin to see it as a weakness.

Read this in a mag today. Almost 6 of those 8 points hold true for me. I know a one-page feature in a magazine isn’t the best way to diagnose a condition, but this looks like a sufficient pointer to a problem. Solution? Apparently, doing nothing helps! And that’s exactly what I’ve been craving for – doing nothing. For a while at least.

>What’s the big deal about saying sorry?

>It’s just a single word – ‘sorry’. And it’s so hard to extract from an unwilling giver. It surprises me then, how I’m so easy with saying my sorries, heartfelt sorries, sorries to set things right, sorries to people I love, sorries for things I didn’t do. Yes, you read that right – I do that too – say sorry at times for saying stuff and doing things I don’t consider wrong. And I’m okay with it.

Sometimes, it’s just the price you pay for peace with a person who can’t see that you’re not wrong. And if I have to choose between my ego and a loved one, I choose the latter. Because it’s only the ego that holds you back, doesn’t it, from bending when someone else isn’t? Between me and my heart, or me and my God, I know what’s right, I know I’m not wrong. So what if someone else doesn’t understand or doesn’t agree?

Someone would say I’ve compromised on what I believe in, said sorry when I don’t feel it. But I don’t see it like that. If it makes someone happy, sorts things out, I can do that. If that’s the only way of convincing someone of my good intentions, I can do it. As long as that person is important enough for me to go that extra mile. Because you don’t want to be estranged from someone who’s important to you because they can’t get your point. What do you get by being right and being unhappy?

But I’m not sure everyone thinks like that. Would you say sorry for something you aren’t guilty of, if the person is important enough?

>The partython is finally over!

>

If I’m home blogging now, it’s because the partython is finally over. Now, there are just a couple of parties every week, unlike the last fortnight or so, which was about partying every single day. Kya karein, life’s like that – just one long party!

And that’s how winters in Lucknow are – spent around warm bonfires, in the heartwarming company of friends, wine and shine! I had no time to do up our Christmas tree this year, for a couple of reasons – first, because it’s near impossible to do justice to that huge tree and second, because I had no time to do up even one side of it. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t have friends over on Christmas eve to spend the evening with (and most part of the night too).

This was the most Christmas-y Christmas I’ve ever had. We were out for lunch at a friend’s place, who had thrown an X’mas party for her kids, and the lovely kids had gotten together with their friends to put a musical performance that was absolutely wow! In the evening, my sister had arranged for a Christmas party for my nephew. Another friend threw a big bash on Christmas night – a white Christmas party, because everyone had to dress up in white. And though I hated that there was a theme I had to adhere to, I loved how the pics turned out – with the white standing out against the black of the night.

There was more on the party platter. Sometime around that time, there was a really, really awful dance party at a pub where barely 15 people turned up, and not any of them the kind who would step on to the dance floor! What a bore.

Then there was a barbecue party at a friend’s farmhouse, to which we lost the way. And that men hate admitting they are lost, let alone asking for directions was witnessed on the10km stretch that we drove on ahead of the venue. After much tactful handling by another friend who was with us in the car, we managed to ask for directions on the phone and get to the farmhouse. Of course, The Guy still maintains he got confused, didn’t really lose the way. Yeah, whatever!

New Year’s eve was the same jazz – drinks, dance and dost! My cousin had come from Delhi for the New Year’s, and she was in such ‘high’ spirits, literally, that I spent a good part of the evening watching after her. No regrets though. Love her and love her antics! We just toppled over a couple of times, downed water shots, because no one would serve us vodka anymore and giggled endlessly in the ladies’ loo. Which reminds me, what is with drunk women and their washroom weirdness? It was hilarious inside the tiny ladies loo, because all the tipsy women couldn’t stop laughing on nothing! We wrapped up the party by 3 (yayyy! beat all the deadlines, all you metro-walas!) in the morning and when I came home, I didn’t even have a giddy head. But my feet – ooooh, they still hurt from the high heel impact. But I didn’t tell you my shoe story, did I? Here it goes:

Just a week before New Year’s I went to pick up some goodies from Delhi. Yes, I went to shop. So? If you want to judge me for being such a squanderer, do. But I have the best husband in the whole wide world, who insists that there’s absolutely nothing wrong in flying out of town to shop, even if it’s just two weeks after you’ve returned from Bangkok. But I swear, I had no winter wear! The Bangkok shopping had been so meh, because it’s always summer there and we’re in the middle of the coldest winters here. And so, in Delhi, among other things, I picked up these really really sexy pair of calf-length, high-heeled boots. Such yumminess! On sale. See, I’m not a squanderer! Just a shopaholic. Does God forgive the sins of a shopaholic? But another post for that….

We’re talking about my partying here. I can’t quite do justice to all the fun I’ve been having – the huddling around the fire on a friend’s terrace on a biting cold winter night, or braving the cold waves for a chaat party in the open air. Or the family outing when my eldest niece unleashed all of her tuneless self on us, and the youngest stole my heart by calling me ‘masi’ for the first time. Or laughing till we could laugh no more when a wooden dewan broke under the weight of two “healthy” friends! The list goes on… but yeah, winter’s the time to be in Lucknow. Even in this horrible, bone-chilling, feet-numbing, shivers-inducing, cold.