Sheets of rain blanket the sky in waves, while the few raindrops that stick to the window create zig-zags, as if telling a story in their own language. He waits patiently in line to order his coffee. “No sugar,” he says. A sparrow whizzes by, weaving through the plants that line the industrial finishings of the coffee shop, inadvertently avoiding the wine glasses that hang upside down. The barista eyes the bird and smiles. “He’s a regular,” he says.
This morning I learned a new word – Scripturient. It means having the strong urge to write. It’s the rainy days that increase the feeling… my scripturient hand and heart must find an outlet immediately.
The other day I watched an amazing talk by Marie Forleo & Marc Randolph, the founder of Netflix. He says that the most important thing in entrepreneurship is not to fall in love with the idea, but to fall in love with the problem. The idea may be good or bad, it may fail when tested, or may be a wild success – but falling in love with a problem sets you up for a creative way for solving it. And the hardest thing to overcome in a business, and in a company, is ego.
Many times ideas do not flourish because titles get in the way. He also talked about how hard it is to come up with the perfect company name, and in the end you just have to pick one. They almost didn’t go with “Netflix” because it sounded too “porny”. Marie and Marc are both coffee lovers, which inspired me to get out of my PJs and walk over to starbucks in the rain and grab a latte. Usually I get vanilla or chai tea (which really shouldn’t even be a latte), but today I got a plain old-fashioned plain one with a touch of brown sugar, and for the first time noticed just how good it tasted.
After I shared my poem the other day, I had a little freak-out, thinking was it too intense? too dark? People will think I’m disturbed! Apparently Rupi Kaur thinks these same things, although my poems get 7 likes and hers get 23523525262. K maybe not that exact number but something like that! But immediately I got a couple great messages – from my cousin Vanisha who said it came at just the right moment in the middle of a debate (oh the poor men that had to listen to it be read out loud), and from my friend Cindy who agreed that we should be screaming from the rooftops. And Shashi Mama (uncle) who said:
Mita you are amazing young lady. No one can control your spirit, your determination, your self esteem. These are all misguided individuals who are not comfortable in their own skin and are weak people. Our resolve will eventually prevail and this world will be a better place for all of you and generations of women to come. Meanwhile let’s keep fighting.
Amen to that!
It’s been over a year since Gosia left, and somehow writing it still doesn’t make it real, but maybe reading it later on will. Jasmine and I had a toast for her on the 1-year anniversary, at a cute Italian restaurant on King West. The wine was good and the spaghetti was comforting (it was the kind that would prompt my mom to say: “we could make this at home”). But it wouldn’t be the same.
Gosia’s presence is felt wherever there is beauty, joy, and the finer things in life… but now I’m realizing more about her. That she wasn’t afraid to look at things that were ugly. Whether it was donating her art to support a documentary about Phoolan Devi, the bandit queen of India, joining me for One Billion Rising, or facing her ex-husband in court, she would still rise each day and find the magic in it. There was nothing regular about her, but she was one of the regulars everywhere she went because she became part of every scene. So this toast is for her.