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Why chai at six? Because growing up, my family and I would have chai every evening. Those moments of my youth are among my most favorite memories.

Who am I? A twentysomething working fulltime in Knoxville, Tenn.

Please note that all thoughts and comments described in this blog are purely my own and do not reflect the thoughts or attitudes of the company I work for.

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    chai at six
    This appeared in our obituaries and moved me:
    A million times I've missed you, a million times I've cried.
    If love alone could have saved you, you never would have died.
    In life I loved you dearly, in death I love you still.
    In my heart you have a place, no one else can fill.
    It broke my heart to lose you, but you did not go alone,
    For part of me went with you, the day God called you home.
    I figured it was some sort of published poem. Here is the full verse.

    Posted by Jigsha at 3/31/2004 08:35:00 PM | link to entry |

    The Bradford Pears and Japanese Magnolias are abloom and all of Knoxville is pretty. Spring doesn't seem so scary anymore. Usually I'm always antsy for the warmer months, but this year my mind was a little perturbed and overwhelmed by it all. I'm glad that it's been fair so far.

    Possibly more to come later on. Lots of minute things to share, maybe even visually, since I now own a spiffy camera phone. I didn't want one before, but I'm surprisingly drawn to it now.

    Posted by Jigsha at 3/31/2004 03:33:00 AM | link to entry |

    A post on the Best of Craigslist reminded of how little parts of conversation can be nuggets to hold on to forever, ready to be pulled out whenever needed. I've been pretty darn lucky to have been in the midst of many an interesting conversation recently. A sampling:

    "Is it worth your life to destroy a boy band?"
    Think about it; it's actually quite tough to answer.

    "Which animal did God sacrifice for your bag?"
    "Maybe a zebra?"
    "No, more likely a goat."
    If you've seen my bag you'll get what it means.

    "What's your backup plan?"
    You may get Jumbo if you're from the Peachy state.

    "Wouldn't it be priceless if Laura left George for Condi?"
    On the current state of political affairs.

    Damn do I love Chingy. He is a hip hop artist who's getting a lot of radio play at the moment. But forget the music, the name Chingy is what it's all about. Add late night cosmic bowling, black lights, disco ball and all, and Chingy is the shizzle.

    Have you ever had an afternoon where you sit at a kitchen table and easily converse with someone as they go about fixing something to eat? And it's sort of cloudy outside with a few snow and rain showers but warm inside and you feel like you could while away every afternoon this way?

    An afternoon two days ago took me back to being a kid again and sitting in our blue, orange and white kitchen in Z. while my mum and kaki cooked, talking to them or just playing with Malaika or one of the other pups. I would come home from school after having done extra-curricular activities and would find my mum or kaki or both readying something for our 5 o'clock tea and nasto.

    But back Tuesday: Lowell and I went hillwalking (I prefer this phrase to hike) that morning to House Mountain. It was quite cool weatherwise and I felt a chill despite having on three layers. We tried a different trail this time, one that was quite steep, and I started panting 15 minutes into the walk, but I seemed to have set a good pace, so I was glad. We were the only folks on House Mountain; it seemed like that mornng there was ours alone.

    On our drive back we saw so many beautiful sycamores and oaks among the farms standing regally against the grey sky, their branches all mangled and foresaken with intricacy and character. Once home, I sat at the table as Lowell prepared some of his fine pizza. As he pattered about kneading the dough and stirring the sauce, we talked about a million and one things, and I sensed the return of that comforting feeling I used to have in Z.

    Yes, I'm sure the feeling returns to you when you bake on a rainy day. But if you haven't experienced it lately, you ought to somehow. It took me back to my days of being a kid who happily spent her afternoons sitting in the kitchen rambling on to her mother and aunt.

    Posted by Jigsha at 3/11/2004 12:37:00 PM | link to entry |

    As I headed to West Knoxville this evening after work, I let loose my hair and rolled down my windows and enjoyed my drive down Middlebrook Pike. The air was warm and the radio was playing a good couple of songs. I felt the onset of spring and new comings as I took my time driving with — not darting between — cars. And though I'm a little hesitant at how quickly spring has happened upon us, I anticipate more good times ahead.

    Monday, I bought a very cool, very retro, very orange sofa at a dirt cheap price. Oh, the thrills of thrift store shopping on Central Avenue! I've been taking photos, so you may see it making a visual appearance on the blog soon. Now it's about straying from the identical yellow paintings of a desolate mangled tree, of which two are sitting at my desk right now, and onto other art that has as much meaning.

    That night, an impulsive dinner party for seven. As usual, I was cooking right on till the end, but it was a good time and new people got to meet. Plus my new recipes were not a disaster and I discovered that the spinach and paneer frozen samosas I bought from Apna Bazaar are pretty damn tasty. The red china and red lights have come to good use, as has the newly acquired orange loveseat. Adding to the red theme were the 'oh so tasty' red-headed sluts, which (I'm sure), were incorrectly poured, but who cares! And I now have company in the empty apartment with my first big living thing — a medium-sized rubber plant courtesy of Carly.

    I attended my first theater in the round this week. The play, "Road to Mecca," was based in South Africa. I hadn't realized I hadn't heard the words "petrol," "Marie biscuits" and "Afrikaans" in a while. It was interesting hearing Southerners struggle with the Afrikaaner accent. But I loved the set decoration and the fact that real potatoes were being peeled and real tomatoes being cut on the set. It shows how my mind wanders: I will drift in and out of listening to the dialogue, but show me a woman peeling potatoes and I'm hooked.

    The birthday came and went. Optimism has me betting this year will be even better. See me (braces and all) with the birthday cake.

    To end, here's a little shout-out to Shiv, the most fun little sister around. I'm planning on being in Philadelphia/NJ early April, so we can talk about colleges and stuff. I will also sit with you while you drive, though I will be holding on for dear life. Remember: just say NO.

    Posted by Jigsha at 3/05/2004 01:00:00 AM | link to entry |