A month gone by in a new year and already the world appears to have rotated faster than a spinning top..
..And then of course, yours truly has given up the spirits (one can only hope it lasts).. At parties you are looked upon as antisocial.. that someone can dare break this elaborate ritual of getting high and conversing without having a clue the next day as to what was discussed or exchanged during an evening of no inhibitions. You find yourself giving what you hope are beatific looks to people and taking snapshots on everyone’s newly acquired ‘digital cameras’.. images that capture a sense of these events and are promised to be emailed to you the next day.. but never are.. from embarrassment or what.. one can never say..
Habits are so easy to break, it is a great disappointment.. I had to do without my cook for an entire week (he refused to return my calls).. and now I cook for myself. In this City where everything changes faster than snap, one would think that one would be able to depend one’s own indulgences.. but it is not to be.. you become as shameless as the City itself.. your quirks and attitudes.. your Habits are with you the one day and gone the next.. you fight to understand and find yourself wanting.. One realizes that one must hold on to Nothing.. it is better this way.
In the meantime this perilously enchanting journey called Life has reached another Plane. The mothers and fathers, the unwed-brides-brides-to-be and the grandmothers and grandfathers, the uncles and the aunts, the cousins and the friends of the family, have united for a common Purpose.. the one Event that will change their Lives and create others in its stead.. the Marriage. It is the culmination of everyone’s dreams and ambitions.. it is the one Party that will change mankind for ever. One feels like Stag in a Hunt. The aforementioned are the Chasers and one runs like the Stag. It is a spectacle worthy of a Shakespearean drama.. the stag runs for its life, never so majestic and proud as it does feel then.. and the clamour of its hunters not so far behind. Once it is snared, killed, stuffed and mounted, who is to say who got the better deal.. the stag looking down from its stuffed perch for all eternity or the hunters of who’s bravery many ballads are sung.. One realizes that ultimately it is the perspective that matters.. of which there are multiple.. and each has something to say for itself.. the Hunters were once the Hunted.. and now they must taste blood.. not to make this entire ritual sound so macabre.. I have to say from the perspective of Me, it is Life.. and I indulge in it willingly.
The Architecture continues very satisfyingly.. despite Clients and Contractors and the Forces that be.. If One really wants to nurture an Idea.. Nourish it.. feed it and water it and see it bloom, while all else is hell bent on seeing it grow twisted and bent.. on should be an Architect. Was there ever a time, one wonders, when an Idea could be personified/realized without any chink.. I think not. The Idea must have had to go through the fire and ice of Conflict to reach fruition.. and so it is. I have been called all kinds of names in the process.. Rohan, Ro, Rohits, Rowhat.. the list goes on.. I have to admit Rohits is the one that appeals to me the most (the American/Chinese/Mexican mind not quite grasping Rohit for its true powers).. it appears to be addressing a multitude of personalities all at one time, which is ultimately quite flattering.. and it is after all for the self aggrandizement that we are in this profession.. the personification of the Ego for all Eternity (or so One can Hope). Soon we shall see the personification of a wonderful Thought, right here in
The Days in the meanwhile are full of Ideas, Work and Toil.. and the Nights complement the Days.. the Joy of Discovery and Wonder continue.. and we are blessed for such..
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