I finally figured what Zeb and Haniya's song 'Chal Diye' reminded me of. Delhi on a hot summer day, dusty but romantic even though I hate the city. Something about the urdu and the ghazali voice in the song, it's very old Delhi. And there is something about the gentle pace of the song - it takes me back to those train journeys from Bombay to Delhi. I have mentioned those journeys on this blog before. I always associate those journeys with reminiscing about lovers who can never be. And Chal diye just takes me back to a time I don't entirely recognize because of how hazy it seems to have become but I can almost taste that old feeling when the song plays. 

And closely associated with Chal Diye is a pashto-dari song called Paimona. Gentle, romantic song that makes me cry just because of how it always reminds me of Afghanistan and its dislocated people.

Powerful stuff.

When you drive from Baltimore to New Jersey, the exits are further and further apart. But once you come closer to New Jersey, the exits seem to draw closer. Exiting to write my blog feels the same way - when I feel like this whole US- life-grad school- thing is a LONG time, my blog entries drop to once in 6 weeks. I wonder when I will begin to feel like the end is nearing and that there is more happening to blog about.

I went for my first conference (ever!), which explains the NJ trip. It was wonderful to see the celebrities from Community Psych. The poorly funded field that we are, our celebrities arrived with rich ideas, wearing simple cotton clothing. The US-version of jhola types. No matter where I go, I chase or become a jhola type. My friend, J, says that the Community Psychology conference makes us all drifters and I want to thank her for the english equivalent of jhola type.

Coming back to the celebrity business - I remember feeling like I could see my textbooks metamorphosing into people. It was wonderful to also see the people I'd been thinking I'd want to work with if their respective universities had accepted me. It was like meeting people who I 'expressed interest' in on Shaadi.com who were now married to other people. The feeling is akin to seeing glimpses of my alternate lives. Thankfully, I love mine. Academically and otherwise.

And she steps into her blog. Shyly. For the fifth time in her life, she feels like a stranger to her blog. This time it's not alienation but shyness that she grapples with. More later.