01:59 IST
The Downstairs Room, Inderpuri
New Delhi, India

The most abominable day, healthwise.

External
Dreamt of rising and shining early and taking the bus to Mehrauli and meeting boi there. That's what dreams are for, to keep you sleeping. Got up at 7am, snoozed till 10am when boi called. Then went back to sleep and got up at 10:45 am. Had a meeting with boss at 11:30am. Up and ready and jammed a pakora in the mouth and scrammed out. Reached office by 11:51am. Late. Meeting commenced. And I had a massive stomach ache for no reason. Excused self and rushed to the loo. Came out only to go back in again, to puke. Dirtied the wash-basin. Boss went in and was disgusted. Self was embarrased. Stupid health. Meeting ended on a high note. Kunzum magazine to revive with fresh content. Should be fun to write about this. Went to Royal Enfield store. Hated it. Took bus and came to CP. Loved bus ride. Went to Jantar Mantar. Clicked and sat and wrote a bit about this and that. Waited for boi. Phone switched off. Went to New Bookland in Janpath to ask for a charger. The kind bald fellow took it upon himself to get me one and charged my phone. Spoke to boi. Met boi. Walked about in CP with him. Think I'm falling in love with him. Ufffffoooo. Came home. Spoke with sisters. Had tea that dadi made. Wrote emails to people. Now writing to you.

Internal
Dadi's conversations plugged in the ears for most of the day. Her thoughts wafted in and out most of the day. Feel liberated and happie like a child when the boi is around. I light up when he's around. He does that to me. Bas, itna he :) Shabba khair.

01:19 IST
The Room Downstairs, Inderpuri
New Delhi, India

Yo-Yo Bloggie Singh! :D

External
Up and recorded Dadi for about an hour. Came down and did work for Kunzum and a little bit of research on Ferozepur and our 'roots.' Lunched. Went to CP with sis to buy a gift for the third sis. Bought nothing. Went to Pacific Mall to look at the laptop I am finally going to buy. Model not available. The lights went out at the mall. The escalator ramp stopped moving. We walked on it, and while walking electricity flooded back and the ramp moved. Weird feeling that. Home. Spoke to third sis. Ate lots of bhujiya. Yuck. Came down. Facebooked, mostly. Dinner. Came down again and wrapped my diary and a book in pretty blue paper. Spoke to boi. Felt good. Started reading Punjab: A History from Aurangzeb till Mountbatten by Rajmohan Gandhi. Interesting so far. Only read Introduction and Preface till now.

Internal
Relaxed, surprisingly, most of the day. Have decided not to work for So Delhi, inspite of less income. No time or energy to do other things. Wonderful conversation with Dadi - she talked about her school, how she introduced the uniform, then about her father, the fact that he was posted to Khartoum in Africa during the second world war. She spoke about her pregnancies. I love her. When I was doing my own research on Wadhwas and Ferozepur, I discovered that not only do I know nothing, but I also don;t know how and where to approach people or books. Think a trip to the Delhi Library is needed. And the history books I already have might help.This book by Rajmohan Gandhi is quite brilliant so far. Had no idea that the whole of 'undivided' Punjab was ruled by Aurangzeb and then invaded by Nadir Shah and then ruled over by someone called Ranjit Singh from Lahore. Had no idea about the five divisions of the state - Rawalpindi, Lahore, Multan, Jalandhar, and Multan. Dadi belonged to the Jalandhar division then, because it had Ferozepur. I'm rather excited about this book :D

Love you. Nighty night.

5:06 IST
The Downstairs Room, Inderpuri
New Delhi, India

Horrible day. Wasted it completely. Inefficiency is my second name.

External
Up late. Got up and JUST FAFFED about on the internet for HOURS instead of working on the bloody blog. Lunched on Saag. Went to meet boi in north campus. He made me wait for 40 minutes. Came running and apologised profusely. I like him very much. Gave me a brilliant career news. Was happy for him. Couldn't help myself. Bit his finger. He yelped. Hugged him, kissed his forehead, played with his hair. Yelled at him softly for not liking my posts on FB. That was silly. Offered to help with his work then turned back on him myself. Didn't like self for that. Came home. Dinnered. Just finished stupid write-up. Not sleepy.

Internal
A MESS. Boi tells me he needs to see my writings to appreciate them. I don't think I can or want to write the way he desires. It's not me. Too much of a culture-vulture he is. I'm still discovering myself. I'm more clinical I think. Plus I have other things to do. Definitely writing a book now. A lot needs to be done. Must start from the beginning. Zero. Read City of Djinns again. Will help.

01:27 IST
Downstairs Room, Inderpuri
New Delhi, India

The day passed me by in a lazy haze, or a hazy daze? Or lazy hazy daze? Or hazy daisy laze? Dunno. I like daisies though :D

External
Grumpily got up at 10:30. Boi called. I sort-of smiled and talked to his laziness. Up, got ready and went to the Election Office to get a new voter ID card as I gallantly lost mine in a busy Thursday market outside the house. Back, lunched, munched on two small kachoris and scolded self for doing so. Went downstairs and just faffed about for a whole hour. Met the kickass filmmaker and discussed how to get the blog rolling. I'm a little bit excited about that. Now home. Head hurts.

Internal
Just a haze. Thought more on the blog chronicles on Dadi. Really want to move forward with it. A lot of good digital publications are into this - they call it long form, non-fiction narratives. The stories include text, audio, video, photo, maps etc to make them experiential. Sounds like so much fun :D
More on boi. Think he is in love with his own expressions. Hehehe. Oh well, as long as he is happie :)

Chalo, goodnighty my dearest one. You're the blue-bird in my heart. And you're beautiful when you sing. Love you.

01:29 IST
The Downstairs Room, Inderpuri
New Delhi, India

It seems as if I avoid writing to you. I look for excuses - tiredness, laziness, busy-ness to get away with it. Writing to you means confronting the self. You're Clarity. You force the self to focus the gazillion whizzing thoughts into a single stream. You force expression, in words. The self has been trying to avoid that. Why? Perhaps the self is happie inside her little bubble of bliss. In the bubblegum love, in the pointless lust, in the insipid work, and in those distant dreams. She doesn't write, because writing will force her to burst that bubble, and enter the bleak reality of existence, where only self exists.

Chronicles of the internal world are much more important and entertaining than the chronicles of the external world. Unless something extraordinary occurs in the external reality. A mix perhaps, the one that I used to maintain, is still a good idea.

A wise person once said,

...it is my duty because this might be the inner chronicle of what we are. We have to articulate ourselves, otherwise we would be cows in the field.

I'm not a cow.

External
Up at 9am. Snoozed. Droopy eyes and droopy hands opened up the FB page on a dying phone. Finally up at 11:45am. Called boi. Boi didn't pick up the phone. Trudged upstairs, popcorn and hot water consumed. Lunch consumed. Decided to stay in pyjamas. Came back downstairs and began to go through Dadi's footage. Stayed distracted as kept opening FB page. Went up at 5:30pm to have coffee with sisters. Stayed upstairs. Napped with sis, spoke to boi, dinnered, came downstairs. Spoke to boi again, facebooked. Cried in salty tears, now writing.

Internal
Anger at waking up late. Worry, lots of worry over boi's health.

A thought struck me as I watched Dadi's footage. What if, instead of making a documentary, I used a mixed media pattern and formed a blog of sorts, chronicling her life, using text, video, audio, photo, all in a blog, and then maybe offer it to tablets? Having always written in that form, I feel more comfortable in it. Think that might be a more impactful story. Will work on it.

Saw boi's ex's picture today. Very pretty, prim and proper. Unlike me. I guess I could be called pretty, in a completely different, scruffy way. I felt sad. The boi showers me with sweet expressions, so many and so sweet that they feel empty. Almost as if he is trying to convince himself that his feelings for me are true. I fear they are not, and he himself may not be aware of it. I fear he is on a rebound. You know, you try to get over someone by being under someone else? I don't think he knows that himself. Wow, deceit without the knowledge of deceiving. I hope he gets better soon. I really do like him, and want him to be at peace with himself.

He dated someone in a not-so-distant past - it's a fact.
He still likes her - its a belief.
Perhaps no one knows anything - the truth.

I should sleep. Nighty night. You're the only constant factor of my existence, the only one I trust implicitly :)

01:22 IST
Sofa-Bed Room, Inderpuri
New Delhi, India

A post after more than a month. This was supposed to be a daily-routine-typing journal. What happened!? I'm diseased. Suffering from an illness. It weakens the mind, slows down the body, makes eyes droopy, demotivates. Laziness. That's what I suffer from. A sin - sloth. Isn't it? I really hate myself for it. It slows me down. It slows my mind, my movement, my whole life becomes one boring crawling nightmare.

I have a task at hand and instead of doing that task and finishing it in time, I will sit and procrastinate. Think of tons of other things, watch videos, listen to songs, read other things and FUCKING FACEBOOK. The task that takes me half-one hour to complete, takes up a whole day. Zero efficiency. Lethargy becomes king and I become fat and grumpy.

ok. About Dadi. Nothing happening on that end as well. Haven't written anything or shot anything or thought about it in a while. Becoming disillusioned with the feature film concept. I don't have a story. No drama. I need questions. I need to get her to speak. I need to shoot her properly. Lets sequence the events of her life. Make a rough format of questions. And interview her. I will leave my camera and audio recorder on at all times. Record every single movement of hers. For a week? Two weeks? Then sit and edit. Think that is the only way to make it work. I'm tired. So very tired.