Brave New World

~

2005-07-22T11:05:00.000-07:00

Kehta hai dil, rastaa mushkil
Maloom nahin, kahaan manzil

- Shree 420

Reality Bites

2005-07-20T09:46:00.000-07:00

Looks like I may have to take the dreaded path after all :)

Ah well, maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe it won't be for too long.

People shouldn't be allowed to read, watch movies, listen to music or lie sprawled under the stars cos it gives them silly ideas.

Moving on

2005-07-17T09:01:00.000-07:00

It seems to me that I’m always looking out for other people. Always conscious of how what I say will affect them – make them feel bad or hurt. So I don’t usually say what I want to, except in times of extreme vulnerability. And I’m getting tired of it. What about me? What about the way I feel?

One decision, the biggest has been made. It was fairly obvious actually.

Have started looking at classifieds.

Am choosing the middle path as far as the second is concerned. Hope it works out and am not forced to choose the path I know I will hate.

I wish I was God

2005-07-16T11:21:00.000-07:00

No seriously, I would do a much better job. I’d paint a girlfriend here, a job there, a mountain for Bipasha. Put away all the baddies where they can only hurt themselves, turn all nukes into chocolate. Clean up the rivers and forests.

I mean what’s with all this you are on earth to learn lessons, suffering is the best lesson crap??

Someone needs to tell God to get a life.

With gratitude

2005-07-15T10:55:00.000-07:00

This has to be the sweetest email I have ever received. Thanks Angel :)

"no he is not .. my mom hoeever saw him once and sid
that he was good looking.. he does have a chin dimple
thing!! if only hed stop pulling my cheeks!!

i figered the cousin thing would take time...am on it
already!! need to talk to the parents though!!
thanks it was really cool of you to mail you know!!
i keep telling people (and yes they allthik i m a geek
for being so involved with my blog buddies)that you
are the coolest married person i know!!

anyway now that my dark coulds have lifted.. wassup
with you?? why so sad!! you know i just realsed that
you and i are rather opposites... if i am troubled i
run to friends... not to anyone...to a few selected
ones...most of the time it means a big STD call!! but
hey it works!!

i know i am not reallyin a position to say let me try
and help... but if you need to talk ... please do id
be more then happy and very free!! all i can offer is
a non judgemental ear and may be tons of coffee if
your in the neighbourhood ...
the best part about the internet is that the anonomity
...

ill be posting about this but i have to tell you ...
today has been the most glorious moring..in long
while.. got up bathed my chotu and dropped mom to her
bus came to work and received three unexpected
mails... all loaded with TLC!! what else could a girl
want!!!??! blessed is the receiver of caring e mails i
say!!

*HUGGIEE*
hey try the new kwality walls rumkick... chocolate
choco bar flavoured with rum...a kick it is!!"

Thanks also to the the Ubergeek for extending a shoulder and Bipasha for the financial advice :)

And of course to everyone who commented.

..

2005-07-14T21:10:00.000-07:00

I’ve had a very bad night and right now I just want to feel those arms around me for a long, long time. I want to be kissed on my forehead, I want my hair stroked, I want the ‘It’s okay’ and ‘It’ll be fine’ and ‘I know you can do it’ and ‘I really want to be here for you.’ I want fingers on my back.

Not going to happen.

Maybe another cup of tea would be nice.

Killing

2005-07-13T09:46:00.000-07:00

Today after an emotionally overwrought session she expressed concern for my well-being. She said I needed to nourish myself before I could move on.

She asked me: Is there anyone whom you can now just go to and lay in their lap and cry your heart out? Your mother...your sister? Someone who can just take care of you and pamper you… Can you think of any one person?

I scanned through the people in my life and I had to say: No.

I didn’t feel bad for myself at that point, it was just a fact.

And she looked into my eyes and said with real understanding and empathy: You chose that.

It killed me.

Because I had to be honest: Yes, I did.

Checking in

2005-07-12T01:48:00.000-07:00

It’s getting more and more confusing as emotional ties become apparent.

I have to make two major decisions, preferably fast as one will affect the lives of others.

I see myself depending to an extent on the therapist and I am not sure if this is healthy.

I don’t want to bring hurt and tears to people, but I don’t want to be in a situation where I will remain unhappy either.

The body has kept up well though there was one day when I fell asleep for two hours purely due to stress.

There is isolation, I can’t bring myself to see a movie or talk with friends about arbitrary things. This is the third day that I will stay home.

I am very, very scared. Of taking responsibility and facing the consequences. I feel alone.

There is also a certain situation that has made me feel discarded and lowered my self-esteem. Whether I am right in feeling this way or not is an interesting question, but irrelevant to the way I feel.

It is difficult to think straight or write, as is evident from this post, so I indulge in focusing activities like online scrabble and vocab tests.

I do not think it right to discuss these issues with friends. No one wants to be bothered and brought down by unhappiness. I don’t blame them, I am the same. And why not? When you are struggling with questions of your own, whether major or minor, you really don’t need more from people around you. So I pay for discussion and I think others should too.

The thing is, that even when you are in a funk, you still notice the feline grace of your cat, you still laugh at Homer Simpson, you still sigh over Marquez’s magic realism – so why not share that? Why talk of things for which you know you are the only one who can find solutions.

And I will. I have to.

Actually to be honest, I am losing the will to change. The status quo entices.

A Rainy Day

2005-07-07T12:33:00.000-07:00

Today, after sploshing through many a puddle in very thin soled slippers, I was watching the rain in the auto coming back home. The day was gray and the leaves were bright green, the breeze was chillingly comforting, and I thought to myself perfect for a nice hot cup of tea.

And was reminded of my favourite comic book. Something I picked up cos it was on sale, battered, only 25 bucks. ‘The Four Elements’ by Roz Chast. A cartoonist whose work appears in the New Yorker. Her work is amazing, very holding-up-a-mirror-to-your-face.

I came home and took it out of the bookshelf, turned to the page that had reminded me of the book. ‘A Winter’s Day’, fits fine with ‘A Rainy Day’ too.

I’d like to share this page with you, but I don’t have a scanner and can’t draw it in Paint. So I’m gonna have to describe it and you’ll have to visualize it, piece it together. Maybe a lil brain taxing after the Su Dokus, bus rides, nerve-wrangling clients, sploshing through puddles of your own…but hey, humour me, just this once.

A Winter’s Day

Frame 1

Book cover.
‘A Winter’s Day by Mary Lou Fleckner’, Blurb on the right top says ‘49 cents’. Blurb on the left top says ‘A Here-We-Are’ book. Picture of a woman on the front.

Frame 2

Open book.
Left page: copyright 1981. All persons, places, and things in this book are fictitious, so don’t get yourself into a tizzy over anything.
Right page: ‘A Winter’s Day’. Picture of gloves, muffler, cap and hot steaming cup of tea.

Frame 3

Left page: Blank.
Right page: Picture of woman sitting at table drinking tea, looking out of window – English cottage feel. ‘It was bitterly cold.’

Frame 4

Left page: Picture: Woman looking out of window at cottage on yonder hill. ‘But there was nothing that Mary Sue Fletcher could do about it.’
Right page: Picture: Four ring stove with kettle on one ring. ‘Maybe another cup of tea would be nice.’

Frame 5

Left page: Woman back at table drinking tea. ‘Mmm… that hits the spot.’
Right page: Table with phone ringing. ‘Was that the phone?’

Frame 6

Left page: Woman standing over dead phone, staring at it. ‘Must’ve been a wrong number.’
Right page: Window with curtains, darkness outside. ‘It’s hard to believe, but at only 4:20 it’s already practically dark.’

Frame 7

Left page: Woman sitting on couch staring at TV which says ‘Evening News’. ‘Where did the day go?’
Right page: ‘The End’.

Frame 8

Back cover.
Portrait pic of woman. ‘Mary Lou Fleckner has written books on various topics and subjects, if you must know.’

Enjoy it at face value or read into it – it’s beautiful both ways!

Bodhisattva - Won't You Take Me By The Hand?

2005-07-06T09:13:00.000-07:00

When one understands that he causes some of his own suffering, needlessly, then he looks for the causes in his own life.

And when he looks for those causes, when he investigates, then he is putting confidence in his own ability to eliminate the sources and end the suffering.

A wish to find a path to peace arises. For all beings desire happiness. All wish to find their purest selves.

- From the film ‘Kundun’

Happy Birthday Your Holiness.
___________________________________________________

23 April ‘05

... This is what I conclude - you can’t connect with another person. It’s all about the self – it’s about my blood, my tears, my sweat, the fishiness of my own fluid.

It’s about the little pool that is you connecting to the larger pool through nature or through music, a film, a book. And even when it is through the man-made, you don’t connect with the human creator but only with the vibrations that the work builds in time-space.

How can you feel that connectedness with life, with the universe with another person? It is unreasonable to even ask for it or think it possible.

Tuesday

2005-07-05T09:28:00.000-07:00

Met with Rags today cos not sure how to go about the promo script. I can’t see how it will be different from the other two films we’ve done for the same organization. And after meeting her I still can’t. It just seems like it would be a shortened version of the previous script. I said so, and she agreed… so I’m still not sure of what I should do – but will give it a shot anyway.

And while I was watching her lips move, I suddenly had a realization! And some cobwebs have parted.

Hmm…maybe it’s having realizations in meetings that leave me with little clarity about the task at hand!
__________________________________________________

Hung out with AJ on his roof this evening. The weather was awesome.

He has this interesting theory that human lives all follow a sin curve – troughs and crescents. And so he claims that he can tell what situation a person will be ten years from now by studying their past sin pattern.

I asked him what about learning from mistakes and changing the pattern, but he said we will make new ones.
___________________________________________________

The writer sends the most lovely SMS’s.

Last week she had been awol for a night so I sent her a message asking her if she was alive and she replied:

Rainwashed and rumpled…

And today she sent me a message from Goa saying:

The weather is too lush, loaded, and heavy on the heart.

Today

2005-07-04T10:57:00.000-07:00

Saw a Mallu flick. Muslim guy in Aligarh Muslim University influenced by classmates who make him see Babri Masjid demolition videos and convert him into a fundo. Becomes leader of local gang, thrown into jail. Wife casts away victim status by writing anti-fundo book called ‘In the name of God’. Guy reads it in jail and his eyes are opened. Wife gets the happy news and goes to meet him, the bus she is in is blown up by fundos. End credits.

Ate breakfast for dinner. Sitting across the table looking at the Lawyer make negative, tired comments.

“The sensible Muslims should do something about their community. It is entirely run by Fascists.”

Will now curl up with good book.

'What do you like about her?'

2005-07-03T05:00:00.000-07:00

Morgan wanted to shout at him, he wanted to pound on the table in front of him, saying, I love the way she pulls down her clothes, lies on her side and lets me lick and kiss her soft parts, as if I have lifted the dish of life up to my face and burst through it into the wonderland of love forever!

- A Meeting, At Last by Hanif Kureishi

The Reality Principle

2005-06-29T11:55:00.000-07:00

Disneyland is presented in order to make us believe that the rest is real, when in fact all of Los Angeles and the America surrounding it are no longer real, but of the order of the hyperreal and of simulation. It is no longer a question of a false representation of reality, but of concealing the fact that the real is no longer real, and thus of saving the reality principle...

Watergate. Same scenario as Disneyland (an imaginary effect concealing that reality no more exists outside than inside the bounds of the artificial parameter): though here it is a scandal-effect concealing that there is no difference between the facts and their denunciation. Same operation, though this time tending towards scandal as a means to regenerate a moral and political principle, towards the imaginary as a means to regenerate a reality principle in distress.

The denunciation of scandal always pays homage to the law. And Watergate above all succeeded in imposing the idea that Watergate was a scandal – in this sense it was an extraordinary operation of intoxication: the reinjection of a large dose of political morality on a global scale.

- Jean Baudrillard: Selected Writings
_________________________________________________

Unrelated, but still:

Space may be the final frontier
But it’s made in a Hollywood basement

- Californication, Red Hot Chili Peppers

Parasite

2005-06-28T11:30:00.000-07:00

Conversation veers to love, marriage and relationships. You sense conflict, hurt and discontentment. You ask for the specific, I laugh and say it is boring and would take a long while. “Try me,” you urge.

My feet are white against the maroon velvet of the seat in front. Tired from a long day, missing friends and family, everything different, unfamiliar – people I long for, human touch. I shiver in the dark. Our shoulders barely touch but the heat between them comforts me.

We are awkward with each other at breakfast the next morning. A good night’s sleep and talking to loved ones – rested emotionally and physically, I don’t need you any more.

And it is daylight and the awkwardness of seeing each other again that alerts us to the connection we felt the night before, though we didn’t realize it then.

Damn Good!

2005-06-27T11:09:00.000-07:00

A few days ago, I was lying on my Mom’s bad watching my niece play on the computer when she suddenly said ‘damn’, not just once, but quite a few times.

I debated as to whether I should react, and then decided that if you’ve reached Level 9 of Redbeard after 50 games, and then miss the blue bar and drown, a mild expletive, even if repeated, is permissible.

But today she said it at dinner and my mother expressed shock etc. But my niece gave her a very logical answer as to why it was alright to say ‘damn’. None of the usual ‘But mummy says it’ or ‘If grown-ups can then why can’t I.’

This was her explanation:

It’s okay to say ‘damn’ because they are too kinds of damn – good and bad, and I meant the good one.

What do you mean two kinds?

Yeah there are two kinds – damn good and damn bad!
___________________________________________

Client meeting today. Went well, not too many changes. Final edit and delivery tomorrow.

Didn’t make the appointment. Yeah, yeah, I know. First thing tomorrow. Promise.

Venus and Mars / Wisdom

2005-06-26T10:12:00.000-07:00

Venus and Mars

A woman senses I’ve been low. She says to me, “You look much better than yesterday, brighter.”

“Yes, I feel better.”

She looks down at me like Nurse Ratchett, and says, “That’s good.”

I smile pathetically and feel like a certified loony who has been given shock therapy and is now in a halfway house, been allowed to go out for coffee as a concession for good behaviour.

A guy senses I’ve been low, well I pretty much spell it out...

He calls me from across the country so I can hear the torrent of rain outside his window.

I am reminded that life is good. :)

___________________________________________________

Wisdom

Since you are the wisest person at the table, tell me, is one more accepting of life as one gets older? Do the existential questions fade away? Does the confusion simmer down?

She gave me a little smile. “Let me tell you a story.”

Vincent was a family friend who lived in Goa. His father was a rich Portuguese trader and his mother was Konkani. He inherited land, a title and an elegant lifestyle. Never worked in his life, was an accomplished opera singer, owned a sailboat. Was always surrounded by the best of friends, had a wonderful wife and two lovely children.

When the Portuguese left India, he was seventy. Though offered Portuguese citizenship he chose to stay in India. He had lands and money. Life was good.

Except that the price of his brand of cigarettes increased, just by eight annas initially, but then steadily, year after year.

This mundane eventuality broke him.

At the age of seventy-five he could tell you the time of day from the number of empty bottles on the right side of his bed and the number of full ones on the left.
____________________________________________________

Have been reading the writer chick’s manuscript. It is quite good, found me smiling to myself at a few passages, the kind I would read out to a friend or post here.

Just wish she wasn’t so exasperating.

Update

2005-06-25T23:07:00.000-07:00

Have been trying to write something interesting and clever but I can’t so here’s a regular update.

The project is going well. I am learning a lot. The producer gives me a lot of responsibility. I felt inadequate and uneasy during the last project I did for her cos I didn’t think I was doing a very good job. But then of her own accord, she decided to pay me 25 percent more than what we had settled for. So I obviously did okay.

I have been feeling like I’ve been taken advantage of by a friend and his writer friend who has been staying with me. I’ve been too nice and giving and I am angry with myself for not being more assertive and drawing huge big lines like I should have. We are both also on permanent PMS mode and so have been rubbing each other the wrong way. She can be very patronizing which really gets my goat. On the other hand, she is very good with my cat and has long conversations with him in Marathi. I can’t be sure yet, but I think she may be brilliant. Guess we’ll just have to tolerate each other till the end of this week. My friend is really going to get it though once she leaves, he has behaved most badly.

I had an appointment with a therapist on Wednesday but I cancelled it. Will make another for this week and show up this time. One half of me is kicking and screaming and dragging her heels in the ground and the other half is dragging her by the collar, knowing it must be done. Will not make the mistake of keeping things inside again. Actually this time I don’t think I have the option of keeping it inside, if I do I will surely go nuts.

It is raining :)

I have been out every night this week. Suddenly everyone seems to want to hang out with me.

Ooh have to run – need to be at the studio by noon!

Random Rhymes

2005-06-18T07:07:00.000-07:00

There was an old woman
Who built a world in her head
She wished she were alive
She wished she were dead.

A woman is good
A man is best
Find a man who's a woman
And you're truly blessed!

Look through the yellow pages
Call Psy Central
Try to find a counsellor
To stop you going mental!

Be nice, be true
Be sad, be blue

Run away from your friends
Hide behind the door
Put on your mask again
Don't let them hear you snore!

Many fish in the sea
Swimming here and there
I caught me one I liked
But it bit me in the rear!

That's all folk!

True Life

2005-06-16T22:35:00.000-07:00

Since everyone is writing stories about childhoods and bullying, why not me.

This is a true story.

Ananth was born on a rainy day in September. It was a long and painful delivery.

His parents had longed for this child. They had spent hours talking about what it would be like to finally hold him in their arms, had bought tiny clothes and repainted their one-room flat.

But his mother was not allowed to experience the sweet reward of holding her child, watch him breathe, feel his soft skin and show off to visitors after he was born. The doctors and her family had to defer this event for a few days, to prepare her for the shock.

Ananth was born with a cleft palate. (contd. below)

2005-06-16T22:31:00.000-07:00

cleft

2005-06-16T22:29:00.000-07:00

He had his first operation when he was six months old and has had four more since then. When he was twelve, his nose had to be rebuilt taking bone shavings from his pelvis. He went back to hospital when he was in college, on his own initiative, to have his ears reshaped.

Ananth once told me that kids used to throw stones on him as he walked back from school. He wet his bed till a late age, was on anti-depressants at the tender age of five.

Once at a wedding, a doctor saw him and remarked loudly that he was mentally retarded and started describing the ‘condition’ to people around. Ananth was nine. He ran to his father crying. His father calmed him down and Ananth poured out the whole story. ‘He said I was retarded! I feel like… I feel like… smashing his car!’ His father was silent and then said ‘Go do it.’

That night Ananth let fly a huge rock into the windscreen of the doctor’s fancy car.

His father was superman. He made Ananth go up to strangers and strike conversations. He pushed him to take tabla lessons, football, art. Though short and not quite athletic, Ananth became the captain of his school’s football team. But this had its own pressures, and his art teacher who he was close to, sat him down one day and told him, ‘The problem is that your father wants you to be good at everything. You don’t have to be.’

Contrary to what one might have thought, Ananth was popular in middle and high school. He had a close-knit gang of friends who were responsible for all misdeeds in school – fire-crackers in the loo, frog’s heads in girls’ bags, deflating the principal’s tyres, climbing the school walls to attend rock shows.

In college he went through the whole drugs and rock n’ roll gamut. He got laid before any of his pals.

He got some friends together, they formed a band, each arbitrarily assigned a musical instrument which they had to then learn! The most good-looking of them was chosen to front the band, Ananth was supposed to play the bass. But due to some mix-up during one of their first shows, he found himself in front of the mike. His high energy stage act, inspired by his tortured grunge heroes Cobain and Vedder, soon got the band a cult following in the university.

He has progressed since then, has appeared on several TV talk shows, has been written about in magazines and newspapers, even asked to pose for Page 3.

I would have put links here, but I don’t think he would like that. People in the rock scene will probably know who he is.

The Shortest Nursery Rhyme Ever

2005-06-16T07:19:00.000-07:00

Baa baa black sheep have you any wool?

No.

2005-06-15T13:34:00.000-07:00

Proof that mediocrity rules. How can an author refer to books as impersonal??

Tag - you're it!

2005-06-15T00:19:00.000-07:00

Okay, I’ve backtracked and figured out this tag thing – what a fun!! I don’t understand why people want to nuke each other for tagging them etc., this is good!

Okay so:

1. Films I own: boring question, pass

2. Five films that mean something to me:

Jungle Book
Waisa bhi hota hai Part II
Bend it like Beckham
My Cousin Vinny
Annie

3. Last film bought: boring question, pass – okay if you must know, ‘Pyaasa’.

4. Five ppl to tag: The latest additions to me blog pal list – they are:

Wabbster
Bips
Addict of Ambiguity
hope and love
Persephone

Have fun folk!

Back Home

2005-06-14T09:14:00.000-07:00

It feels good to be home.

Right from when I stepped in the cab and the hot loo hit my face – I knew I was home, back to dusty, blazing hot Delhi!

The pilot didn’t seem too happy to land – ‘Visibility 2.5 kms, lots of dust. Outside temperature (here I swear his voice choked!) 41 degrees’.

After staying in Pune for a month, passing in and out of Bombay, and holidaying in Goa and Kerala earlier this year, I do realize that you have to have grown up in Delhi to like it.

It’s just the familiarity of the roads I suppose.

I was dreading coming home to an empty house. But surprisingly home felt great. Luxurious, after the spartan blue-walled hostel room.

Presents meant for someone else given away or put back in the bookshelf. Memory persists.

I watch my emotions change from understanding and relief to hurt and confusion to anger and now to indifference. Guess it’s the mind’s way of dealing with things it cannot understand.

Kashmir Again / Film / Osho

2005-05-22T06:21:00.000-07:00

Kashmir, again

Tanveen, from Srinagar, staying in the hostel room next to mine hears a bang. A strange look comes over her face as she asks me what it could be. When I tell her it's a fire-cracker, she is relieved and says, 'It sounded like a grenade.'

The night before she screamed in her sleep and woke up her room-mate. She says she saw gory images. "When you've been so close to violence, for so long, you are always fearful."

A loud bang:

- I, a Delhiite, know it to be a fire-cracker, part of wedding celebrations.

- A friend from Kerala wonders which temple is having a festival!

- Tanveen, well...

This morning, my room-mate had a tear in her eye while on the phone she received the news that her student, a major in the Indian army, had been shot dead by militants near the border.
____________________________________________________

Film

Films are difficult to explain because films are easy to understand. Films are easy to understand because films happen to you.

- Prof. Satish Bahadur, FTII

____________________________________________________

Osho:

Put everything at stake. Be a gambler!

Risk everything, because the next moment is not certain, so why bother? Why be concerned?

Live dangerously, live joyously.
Live without fear, live without guilt.
Live without any fear of hell, or any greed for heaven.

Just live.

cactusjump:

Hmmmmm...!!

Sounds like fun...

BUT...

SMS

2005-05-18T03:14:00.000-07:00

The room goes black, images flicker on the screen.

I’ve been waiting for a single message for three hours now. Feels like my life depends on it.

A man is led by soldiers across a bridge. A noose is placed over his neck, he is made to walk to the edge of a plank.

Maybe he’s just lost interest. Perhaps I’ve been too in-his-face. Could it be he’s met someone?

The soldier steps off the plank, it see-saws and the man goes down.

Deep breath. He could be busy. There could be a problem with the network, he may not have got the message.

The rope is frayed and the man splashes into the river below. He swims, dodges bullets aimed at him, reaches shore, runs to his home where his wife comes out and rushes towards him.

The phone vibrates. I do not pick it up immediately. I smile, my heart sings. I savour the moment.

As the man reaches his wife and is about to embrace her, his neck cracks backwards. He is hanging at the end of the rope. Dead.

U always hav my attention, reads the message. Big wet kiss n tight hug…

City of Dreams / Train Story

2005-05-14T00:32:00.000-07:00

Juhu

Just some of the things you can do on a Bombay beach:

- Fly monkey balloons.

- Watch planes circling the bay.

- Pick up a prostitute - male/female.

- Have a full-body hour-long massage.

- Wade in the water.

- Risk getting a serious infection by swimming.

- Build sandcastles.

- Play frisbee.

- Get an instant photo taken.

- Hear your fortune on headphones as told by CP30 with flashing lights.

- Buy lighted yoyos, flying discs, key chains and other assorted 'items'.

- Shoot balloons with an airgun.

- Eat:

Pao Bhaji - about six different kinds
Kulfi Falooda
Bhel Puri / Sev Puri
Channa Jor Garam
Peanuts
Chaat / Golguppa
Ice cream
Dosa / Idli
Pulao
Kala Khatta gola
And more...

- Drink:

Daab
Milkshake
Beer
Sharbat
Fresh juice
Tea / Coffee - machine or desi - thick and sweet
And more...

- Blow bubbles from coloured soap liquid, bottles of which are stacked to make patterns of crosses and hearts.

- Cuddle with a loved one.

- Watch the sun set and the moon rise.

- People watch for hours.

- Have a picnic with the entire family - bhai-behen, husband-wife, chacha-chachi, saas-sasur, bunty-babli.

Mumbaikars feel free to add to the list!

Fleeting Impressions

- Land in Mumbai at 12.30 pm. Go to lunch (pao bhaji of course!). Serial audition being held at table next to ours. Watch fascinated at Raveena Tandon and Hrithik Roshan look-a-likes. The guys in shades, open shirts, tank tops, leather jackets (in May afternoon heat), chains and lockets, bleached hair. Women in tight tops - cleavage showing, waved hair, movie make-up!

- Read Wabbster's blog. Looked out the window at the neighbouring 21-storeyed building, wondered if the stays there.

- Crowded, busy, in a rush. Bees getting somewhere, always. Coming home to multi-storeyed bee-hives without balconies.

- Most places the air smells of fish, in others it smells of rubbish. Smells of striving, pain, laughter, dreams, but most of all it smells of LIFE.

- Two feet wide pavements at night filled with tired, sleeping workers, loud traffic rushing on either side.

- You can - just get into an auto without a long discussion on where exactly you are going and a huge negotiation over price. The correct rate is one rupee less than what the meter reads!!

- You realize how aggressive, on-the-defensive, you as a Delhi-ite are, when everyone is normal and pleasant and not out to take you for a ride!

- Watching DDLJ in its 500th week - SRK as 'Raj', Kajol as 'Simran'... The audience saying the dialogues before they are said on screen...

- An autowallah telling me that the Marriott Hotel, with the flames on either side of the entrance is Amitabh Bachchan's house. No, of course I don't correct him.

_________________________________________________

On the Jammu Tawi - Bandra Summer Special

My parents sent me away to Bangalore when I was a child, away from the trouble in Srinagar. I grew up to study medicine there. In my first year of study, I came back home to Srinagar for the Id break. One day, when no one was home, I heard a knock on the door. I opened the door and came face-to-face with some army jawans. They asked me my name, where my parents were, why I was here from Bangalore. And then asked me to come with them. I asked where, but they just said I should come with them. I had no choice but to go with them.

They took me to a building, where they suspected militants to be hiding. I too had heard talk in the neighbourhood of militants hiding in that particular building.

They pushed me forward, crouching behind me with their rifles. The ground floor was clear and so was the first floor. Then, the second floor. Next, was the third and last floor. My mouth ran dry as they pushed me towards its entrance. Since the other floors were clear, the militants had to be here. My breath almost stopped, I nearly fainted. I wet myself. But I had to move forward. I knew I would not survive the cross-fire.

Thankfully, the third floor was clear too.

They used me, a nineteen year-old, studying to be a doctor, as a shield for three hours...

News

2005-05-09T11:14:00.000-07:00

- In a week’s time, I will be living with a stranger, for a month. For the first time in my life, I will be able to use the words ‘my’ and ‘room-mate’ in the same breath.

- I have actually given myself a 99 degree fever over worrying about all the things I have to do before I leave. I mean, really, it’s too much. I have never met such a highly-strung person as me.

- I AM VERY VERY EXCITED!!

- The Jokester says he may be in love...

- The cat has started licking the new sand that I put out in his litter box. I wonder if he is calcium or mineral deficient. :-/

- Sunfeast’s new Pasta treat totally rocks. Yummmeh. And it’s whole wheat too!

- Discovering ‘The Life of Pi’. Great book.

Pillow Talk

2005-05-07T09:59:00.000-07:00

You’re very sexy.

With my clothes on or off.

Both.

Hmmm. I think it has to do with you. I’m sexy when I’m with you. It’s like you bring it out.

No no! That has nothing to do with it! It’s not... It’s the way you look at a person...

No, it doesn’t work that way. It doesn’t work if you substitute anyone else for you.

SMS / The Calling Card

2005-05-06T10:05:00.000-07:00

Had a great SMS conversation with my Mom today. As you can see, she has very fixed views on what things should be called!

Mom, think I forgot the bill on the rectangle table. Pls find it and keep safe.

It’s the glass table not rectangular

It is also a rectangle and its my prerogative which adjective I choose to use! :)

Don’t you know its the glass table? Nothing to do with prerog

So did you find it on the GLASS table?

Yes. Now on ROUND table. Mx (This is how my mom always signs off letters – an M for ‘Mom’ and an ‘x’ for a kiss)

You mean the PLASTIC one? ;)

XYZ!!! (First three letters of my name)

MOM!!!

What?

I love you!

Maybe I shouldn’t have given her that phone for her birthday!
_________________________________________________________

Let the cat out yesterday after ten days cos he had hurt his paw. Finally healed and he was desperate to go out. Didn’t return all night. At ten in the morning, I hear him meowling, and by the time I figure out it’s actually him and not a dream and find my slippers etc. he had left. But at the doorstep is a half-chewed lizard without a tail – a gift. Or a calling card perhaps!

Found him when I came home tonight on the steps of the gym opposite our house. Must have been burning off those extra lizard calories!

Kerala Revisited

2005-05-05T10:39:00.000-07:00

If I were born in Kerala, I would wear silver anklets on my feet. I would have doe-like eyes lined with kohl. My hair would be thick and black, drenched with oil. My skin would be dark and smooth. I would smell of jasmine.

My flesh would be made up of fish and bananas, coconuts and rice, tamarind and spices. Sea water would run through every fibre of my being.
_____________________________________________________

Lean back flat, on the warm stone. Moisture-laden warm tropical night. One calf in a green lit pool. Look up to stars and planets spaced by inky blackness. Focus on one star. Zoom in. Ball of fire. Stay connected for a long while. Feel yourself expand. From a speck of cosmic dust to a whooshing cosmic energy flying around the universe, from planet to satellite, galaxy to star, rings and ellipses to orbs. Feel super-consciousness enter and flow through you. Fame, ambition, drive dissipate. A myriad thoughts checked, unimportant. All that matters is to be. To feel this. Know this.

The Body Beautiful / Eve / Dylan

2005-05-04T23:37:00.000-07:00

This film made me cry last night.

http://www.oneworld.cz/ow/2004/en/films/pop/?id=6492

It’s funny, but despite all my insecurities, I have never felt badly about my body.

It’s definitely not because I have a perfect body. People describe me as thin and bony. But to my mind I look athletic and I love the way my body is. I feel hot and sexy most of the time and that’s the truth.

Yes, sometimes that belief gets a little shaken and I wish for a fleeting second that I was built more voluptuously. Like when someone I care about messaged me from a movie saying he liked watching the star’s cleavage. And I know I have none.

But these moments are few and far between and don’t occupy much mental space.
______________________________________________________

Also saw ‘The Day I Became a Woman’ for the fourth time! I think I’ve finally had my fill of it. Nothing like getting blown away by it when you watch it the first time...wish I could re-experience that :)

Convinced the woman sitting next to me to stay for it. She was leaving after the first three films cos it was late. She said she would watch ten minutes and then go but stayed glued to it throughout and thanked me at the end for making her stay!

The lovely Bible-toting L too was surprisingly quiet and suitably awed ;) Was cursing myself initially for taking him along cos he always talks at the wrong time, or laughs loudly, or keeps messaging on his cell phone. But he behaved yesterday.

I was talking to him about whether the first part ‘Hava’ had symbolic references in a few scenes – like when the boy shows her a toy and takes away her scarf (trading freedom and dignity for ‘protection’ and ‘stability’) or the scene when Hassan is behind bars and they are sharing a lollipop. I found that scene quite sexual when I first saw the film, then dismissed that analysis as reading into the film too much. More because I feel extremely uncomfortable and uneasy at viewing children as sexual beings, even metaphorically or remotely. But yesterday again I felt it was symbolic – a man and a woman wanting to share a loving, equal relationship but being kept apart, only allowed relationships that conform to social standards.

He seemed to think that I was reading too much into it and that it was just a simple scene – but I don’t think so.

And then he said something lovely about the last scene in the third part ‘Hoora’, the scene where all the furniture is floating on the sea. He said that it’s at the end of her life that she’s able to buy for herself all the things she’s always wanted, but she now has no where to go and is at sea.

I love that! Even if that’s not what Meshkini is saying, cos I’m sure ‘being at sea’ is not an Iranian metaphor, but even so!
______________________________________________________

When I was a child, the only music I ever listened to was Bob Dylan (besides some Nursery Rhyme tape). That was the only music my Mom ever listened to. I remember the strains of ‘Just Like a Woman’ and ‘Lay Lady Lay’ floating around as I played with blocks and painted.

But I’ve never found anyone in my age group who likes Dylan. And when I’ve tried to initiate them they’ve just ended up mimicking his nasal voice!

It’s true he is very nasally BUT Dylan is one of the best songwriters ever – nay, he’s a true poet. There is not a single song whose lyrics are not brilliant.

Here’s a sample. And if anyone wants to dis it, they can just suck my non-existent dick.

Mr. Tambourine Man by Bob Dylan

Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.

Though I know that evenin's empire has returned into sand,
Vanished from my hand,
Left me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping.
My weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet,
I have no one to meet
And the ancient empty street's too dead for dreaming.

Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.

Take me on a trip upon your magic swirlin' ship,
My senses have been stripped, my hands can't feel to grip,
My toes too numb to step, wait only for my boot heels
To be wanderin'.
I'm ready to go anywhere, I'm ready for to fade
Into my own parade, cast your dancing spell my way,
I promise to go under it.

Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.

Though you might hear laughin', spinnin', swingin' madly across the sun,
It's not aimed at anyone, it's just escapin' on the run
And but for the sky there are no fences facin'.
And if you hear vague traces of skippin' reels of rhyme
To your tambourine in time, it's just a ragged clown behind,
I wouldn't pay it any mind, it's just a shadow you're
Seein' that he's chasing.

Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.

Then take me disappearin' through the smoke rings of my mind,
Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves,
The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach,
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow.
Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free,
Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands,
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves,
Let me forget about today until tomorrow.

Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.

Incidentally, for those who aren’t in the know – the Tambourine Man is supposedly his junk supplier! Doesn’t take away from the poetry though...

Reminders to Self

2005-05-03T09:29:00.000-07:00

feelin' alright by len

it’s early in the morning and i’m feeling kind of dumb,
i'm tryin real hard but i'm having no fun,
i'm looking all around and everything looks the same,
it’s like being the smartest kid in class and having no brain.

sharon’s right beside me,yeah i feel it too.
and if you weren’t my little brother i’d take it out on you,
and d-rock and moves just lost their fat-mad flow,
it’s just a matter of time before my brains all broke.

my brains all broken, but i’m feelin alright,
i feel like im chokin, but im feelin alright,
im goin down fast, but im feelin alright,
im not gonna last, but i’m feelin alright.
feelin alright.

bad days are givin me the creeps,
and when i have them all i wanna do is freak,
and sometimes i don’t feel really strong
enough to deal with bad days cause they last too long.

we’ve been thinking hard and figuring out what to make
of all this stupid shit that makes you not think straight,
so should we just quit?
no, its not cool to run,
well you know, i think she’s right,
let’s show em how it’s done.

cause it’s not just a matter of straight up holding your ground,
it’s all about your crew and the vibe you put down,
so if we’re all here, what’s this about a bad day?
we’re not going to take it sitting down, no way.

my brains all broken, but i’m feelin alright,
i feel like i’m chokin, but i’m feelin alright,
i’m goin down fast, but i’m feelin alright,
i’m not gonna last, but i’m feelin alright.
feelin alright.
bad days are givin me the creeps,
and when i have them all i wanna do is freak,
and sometimes i dont feel really strong
enough to deal with bad days cause they last too long.

Childish? Maybe. But I've always loved this song.

Reminders to Self

- GET A LIFE.

- One and one makes two. Not one. Well, we can still hope that someday it will, but not for now.

- You are the centre of the universe. It’s all about YOU.

- Be true to yourself. No one else’s opinion is right for you.

- Listen to happy music.

- What you do, or wish to do, workwise, is important and worthwhile.

- Limit number of internet sessions a day to one.

- Reach out.

- Don’t lose yourself.

- Stop whining.

Zoe

2005-05-02T16:50:00.000-07:00

And here is a cat with her very own blog!

Title linked to Zoe Penney...

Today is for the animals - those wonderful sweethearts who choose to be in our lives!

2005-05-02T11:16:00.000-07:00

Hugo’s India

- By Reshmi R Dasgupta,
the middle in today’s TOI

Coming to India for the first time is an overwhelming experience for anyone. So it has been for Hugo. More so since it’s been accompanied by several other firsts: the first trip abroad and the first flight. Once he arrived in Bangalore, there have been other surprises too. The problem is, there’s not much we can do to forewarn him. Hugo is a big, golden Labrador, you see. As such, he’s rather ill-prepared for India since he’s lived all his seven years in London as a typical English dog. He’s used to long walks on the Common, hobnobbing with assorted canine companions and the odd horse or deer. He eats only dry dog-food. He displays desi bad manners like drooling and begging only at home, that too when his India-resident relatives descend on London in summer.

This summer, Hugo’s in India and it’s quite a culture shock. He’s used to seeing brown faces at home and white outside. Now there’s hardly a white face in site. Worse still, no one speaks English in quite the same accent as Moon and Nayana, his two ‘sisters’. To add to his woes, the staff don’t speak in the only Indian language his ears are accustomed to – Bengali. No wonder he’s gravitated towards the English girl who’s staying next door, like a long-lost friend: a familiar face and accent he understands. Till he picks up Kannada and a taste for curd rice, Henrietta is his link to a world he has left behind. He’s like one of those lonely English memsahibs who came to India in the 19th century and confided their impressions to their diaries.

Hugo can’t keep a diary or else I would love to know what he thought when he saw his first Indian cow on the way to town from the airport. His ‘mom’ Ruma says his ears drew back, his tail went down, his usually wide eyes narrowed, his brow furrowed. Hugo’s also astonished by his country cousin, the stray dog. They seem to have no human companions, no leash or collar. As for their language, the less said the better. The other day, as Hugo was examining a car tyre intently, one such creature jumped out from underneath and berated him in a most unseemly fashion. His English sensibilities were outraged. Other surprises lurk. What on earth is that revolving object on the ceiling, for instance? Why do cars honk so much? Hugo’s face is one perpetual question mark. What does this English dog make of India?
___________________________________________________________

Was thinking of my sweet cat today and felt guilty for having somewhat neglected him recently. Was too caught up with life to pay attention to him.

And I thought, my Mom’s life was terribly complicated as I grew up. She probably just didn’t have the mental space to deal with me. I should be more understanding.

Animals always teach us something, don’t they? :)

2005-05-02T11:15:00.000-07:00

Hey - take the dog!

2005-05-02T11:13:00.000-07:00

Snuggle babies!

2005-05-02T11:12:00.001-07:00

Whee!

2005-05-02T11:12:00.000-07:00

My kinda man!

2005-05-02T11:11:00.000-07:00

Zzzzzz....

2005-05-02T11:10:00.000-07:00

Hyuk hyuk!

2005-05-02T11:09:00.000-07:00

Awwww - mwuaaah!

2005-05-02T11:08:00.001-07:00

Eggzausted!

2005-05-02T11:08:00.000-07:00

Not bad, but make sure its strawberry next time!

2005-05-02T11:07:00.000-07:00

Hmmm...

Today

2005-05-01T05:38:00.000-07:00

This morning, sitting in my yellow car, waiting for my husband to come down, I spied a bird on the tree in front with a twig in its beak. God, even the bloody birds know that the idea is to work hard to build a home, I thought to myself.

Then the twig fell from its beak and it didn’t even look down or give it a second glance. It sat on the branch for a while longer, and then simply flew away.

What the heck kind of lesson is that?
______________________________________________________

Today my father-in-law and I cooked mutton together while my husband and his cousin lay splayed in front of the TV.

He cut the meat while I chopped the onions and potatoes. He taught me a neat trick for the garlic – just chop it up and then rub it in your hands like you would peanuts to remove the peel. Much simpler than peeling each clove, keeps your fingers from stinking as well. We chatted about this and that as we worked, and totally forgot the tomatoes which he realized once the oil was hot and the garlic was starting to burn and we had to cut them in a hurry and throw them in. :)

I feel a connection with him since the day he called two weeks ago.

This was when they had just returned from Mumbai, and he told me on the phone how he felt about B. He hadn’t called to complain or any such thing, had just called to say they were back. But then he totally opened up and couldn’t stop and spoke continuously for about fifteen minutes. And I just listened silently and cried because I feel exactly the same way he does. He put my feelings into words – ‘insensitive’, ‘doesn't care', ‘expects us to sacrifice our emotions’, ‘wants us to change our lives around his’…
________________________________________________________

I am currently on a very dangerous roller-coaster ride and I am scared of crashing very, very soon.

Indian Curry Rhapsody (sung to the tune of 'Bohemian Rhapsody')

2005-04-29T07:18:00.000-07:00

Reminds me when Jo, L, the Englishman and I went to Shimla for Easter weekend last year. We sang 'Bohemian Rhapsody' the whole way driving there. The Englishman and L are very Christian and very religious. L met up with a white missionary and his family in the guest house where we were staying and the entire family stood in a row in the lawn (with hands clasped like in 'Sound of Music' - very quaint, intensely funny) to sing us some Easter song. Jo and I had been cracking Christian jokes (out of L's and the Englishman's ear shot) the night before. I leaned to her and said from the corner of my mouth "Should we sing them Bohemian Rhapsody?" Her face turned red from supressed laughter!

This ones dedicated to all palefaces on an India trip who suffered from Delhi Belly...

Naan, just killed a man,
Poppadom against his head Had Lime Pickle Now He's Dead
Naan, Dinner's Just Begun
But Now I'm Gonna Crap it All Away
Naan, ohhhh ohhhhhh
Didn't mean to make you cry
Seen Nothing Yet Just See the Loo Tomorrow
Curry On, Curry On Cause Nothing Really Madras

Too Late, My Dinner's Gone,
Sends Shivers Down my Spine
Rectum Aching All the Time
Goodbye Onion Bhaji, I've got to go
Gotta Leave You All Behind And Use the Loo
Nann, Ohhhhh Ohhhhh
The Dopiaza is so Mild
I Sometimes Wish We'd Never Come Here at All
Curry On, Curry On Cause Nothing Really Madras

I See a Little Chicken Tikka on the Side
Rogan Josh, Rogan Josh, Pass the Chutney Made of Mango
Vindaloo Does Nicely Very Very Spicy Meat
Byriani (Byriani) Byriani (Byriani) Byriani and a Nann (A Vindaloo loo loo loo)

I've Eaten Balti, Somebody Help me
He's Eaten Balti, Get Him to the Lavatory
Stand you Well Back Cause the Loo is Quarantine
Here it Comes There it Goes Technicolour Yawn
I Chunder NO! It's Coming up Again (There he Goes)
Coming Back Again (Up Again)
Here it Goes Again (No, No, No, No, No, No NO)
On my Knees I'm on my Knees
On his Knees, Oh, There he Goes
This Vindaloo It's About to Wreck my Guts
Poor Me.... Poor Me..... Poor Meeee....

(Guitar Solo)

So you Think you can Chunder and Feel Alright?
So you try to eat Curry and Drink Beer all Night?
Oh Maybe, But now you Puke Like a Baby
Just had to Come out It Just had to Come Right out in Here

(Reprise)
Korma, sag or bhuna
bhaji, balti or naan
Nothing makes a difference
Nothing makes a difference
Nothing makes a difference To meee....
Anyway, my wind blows....shshshsh

The Creature / Everlasting

2005-04-28T04:46:00.000-07:00

Sitting on the balcony last night, sipping tea with Mom, I spied the creature.

Thought it was a cat at first, climbing a tree, so stealthily – walking along the ledge, trying to get into the kitchen window of the flat opposite.

But as it made its way down we realized it was much too heavy to be a cat, more furred, shorter legs, bushier tail – and a snouty face.

Six months ago the weird Mrs. Jain in her deadpan way came up to my mother and asked her if she had seen the ‘jaanwar’.

‘Itna bada hai. Raat ko ghumta hain.’

My mom thought she was mad.

It crossed the road and made its way to the park opposite, and we saw Aunty dog chase after it at top speed. (Why is she called Aunty dog? Long story.) We heard her yelp a few times. Then the chowkidar got there with his torch too. I went in but mom says she saw eyes glowing on the wall. And heard a strange animal sound, which she couldn’t describe or emulate. (Kraz – another ‘e’!)

We considered that it might be a very large mongoose. But mongeese (don’t care if that’s not the plural, I like that word) don’t climb trees, plus it was much too large. Mom thought it might be a bandicoot, so we looked up pictures of bandicoots on the net – but they didn’t look right. Also looked up ‘wild cats’ but it didn’t have a cat face, more of a snout.

Mom says it must have escaped from the zoo. But how could it negotiate all the traffic? The zoo is about 15 kms away. ‘Poor thing – do you think it has family?’ ‘No mom, it seemed like a loner to me.’

I’m glad I saw the creature. I’m glad he (she?) lives in our colony. I’m glad it’s mysterious. I feel as if I found out what it was, all the mysteries of life would be revealed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Last night I went over to my in-laws for dinner. They recently got back from Mumbai and my father-in-law as usual, had been busy with the handycam.

This time he had put together a ‘music video’ starring my mom-in-law. Based on an old Bengali song, the words of which I could not understand, but he explained them as ‘You and I have been together so long, but I still do not know you and you still do not know me. Let’s discover each other.’

My mom-in-law is in her late-fifties and my father-in-law is over sixty. He’d shot her in the hotel room. She snuggling in bed and smiling at him. Combing her hair and adjusting the pleats of her sari in the mirror. Drinking tea, contemplating, sitting by the window looking at the building opposite.

It was very, very beautiful.

And she sat beside me telling me how nice the hotel room had been. ‘Sports complex mein. Woh dekho room mein…’ And he would cut her short ‘Deepti chup kor! Let her watch!’ :) And she would nudge me and grin as if to say ‘Hee hee he thinks he’s Mrinal Sen!’

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

She wanted to stop reading it...But she had nothing better to do!

2005-04-26T08:05:00.000-07:00

2005-04-26T08:03:00.000-07:00

The Blog

...

2005-04-25T07:29:00.000-07:00

You could've asked me how my day was.

Rested

2005-04-19T21:45:00.000-07:00

Ate, slept - sometimes the source of stress is its solution.

Stress Attack!

2005-04-19T05:15:00.000-07:00

When you are in a high-stress situation you will not be able to eat. You will feel hungry, you will feel the acid level rising in your stomach, but you will not be able to chew. You will burp a lot. You will not feel the need to brush your teeth since the acid level in your mouth will make your teeth squeaky clean. Your breath however, will smell unpleasantly of bile.

You will lose the three kilos that you were so proud to have put on.

You will not be able to sleep at night, and you will not be able to get out of bed during the day.

You will try to go about your day as usual, thinking that this is the way to control the stress, and to save those close to you from distress. You will try to read, you will force yourself to blog. You will act normal and happy and cheery. But you will not be able to fool your mom.

And when your charade has continued for too long, your body will break down and you will weep uncontrollably and fall asleep for short spells. You will finally give in to your body’s wisdom and feel much better for it.

And when evening draws close, and your mind tells you you must get out of the house, you will shun your close, perceptive friend and choose the other whom you can fool.

You may decide to go for a film, hoping that the emotionally overwrought state you’ve been through will heighten the film experience. And of course, you will realize you’re a nut for hoping so!

God Exists

2005-04-18T23:18:00.000-07:00

I lay in the dark, next to my niece, stroking her hair, observing the tears run down from the corners of my eyes to collect in pools in my ears.

The tears came from the depths of my soul. I was crying as I haven't in a long, long time.

And then I got not one call, but three from close friends. Bible-toting L said he just called to check on me and see if I was okay. There is no way he could've known.

The Jokester knew right away that there was something wrong. He insisted on coming over even though I was downright rude in putting him off. We went out for coffee and talked about music and life and laughed.

He may throw temptation in my way, He may make decisions imperative and difficult, but at least He didn't leave me friendless last night.

Superstar

2005-04-16T02:58:00.000-07:00

I don't know what it is
That makes me feel like this
I don't know who you are
But you must be some kinda superstar!

Currently absolutely nuts about this song. It's not Floyd or The Doors - but has a great groove - trust a black woman to lend funk to pop!

Started in Goa when I saw two guys grooving to it. Rekindled Thursday night.

Title linked to mp3 download!

Naughty

2005-04-15T05:55:00.000-07:00

If I were to say to God, "I have sinned...but he has a great sense of humour..."

Would I be forgiven? :)

My Mad Spouse! / One of the boys

2005-04-13T10:25:00.000-07:00

B was here for two days.

The first night we went out to see a late night movie, got back at 1.30 am. There was no electricity, but I failed to convince him that it was cool enough to sleep with the windows open.

He spent two hours – from 2 to 4 am playing with my limp body while I pretended to be asleep (hoping he would get tired of the game but no such luck!). Amongst the things he did were sing ‘Vande Mataram’ and make my arm raise a fist into the air, then both were raised – AR Rahman style (Vandeeeeeee!) – the song was repeated about ten times. Then it was the ‘Beam up, Scotty’ routine from Star Trek…

The second night he went for a meeting with a client. She drank apple juice while he had two beers and arrived at my Mom’s quite buzzed. My sister said she was going to a friend’s to watch a movie on his newly acquired projector. B asked who the friend was and on learning that the friend’s name was the decidedly feminine ‘Mun Mun’, decided that he just had to go along and meet this friend. He convinced me that it was absolutely essential to do so – ‘If you want to be a film maker you have to meet Mun Mun – figure out what it feels like to be him…’ Sis and I decided to humour him so we all drove to Mun Mun’s. Many jokes in the car – What’s Mun Mun’s girlfriend’s name? Chun Mun (my masterpiece that!) B very excited to meet Mun Mun.

When we get there he suddenly turns very sober. Greets Mun Mun very formally and immediately wants to leave to see ‘Cheech and Chong’ at D’s place. Seven of us end up watching the flick, which seemed like the next generation of cinema since you could see the dope cloud on the screen and smell it in the room as well…

Today he had a train to catch at 4.55 pm. And he needed to go to the bank before he left. There was no food at home since the gas had finished so we decided to go out. I waited for an hour while he chatted uselessly on the computer – absolutely stupid thirteen year-old stuff – gassing with a friend and exchanging creative swear words… Finally at 3.30 I threatened to go without him. He agreed to go and shuts down. I then realized that it was 3.30.

It’s 3.30! That means we can’t go eat! You need to leave by 4 – latest 4.15. So we’ll just have to rush to the bank.

Oh yeah, you’re right.

Let’s go then. You have packed right?

Looks up to me – eyes wide open – Hell no!

We somehow make it back by 4.25 and he goes off in the cab, only to return 10 mins later since he took the car keys with him in the rush…

Calls at 5 – I’m in the train! Guess what…the train had started moving – I had to jump in!

He drives me round the bend, but the ride is kinda fun!
___________________________________________________________

I have been concerned for a while now that all my friends are male. Voiced this concern to The Jokester the other day, and he said that it was normal and that none of his women friends had women friends. It’s because women get very jealous and insecure around each other. Men are fine with other men being better looking, more popular, better drummers etc. It’s only when two men want the same woman that there’s war. But otherwise men are okay with each other and hence can be friends but women can’t. Hmm :-/

I read and hear about girlie nights out, watching sob flicks and discussing depilation and make up but I’ve never been part of a girl gang. :- (

But today I absolutely realized I’ve been one of the boys for way too long when my friend asked me in all seriouness – Do you sometimes feel it would be better to have a big bushy moustache?

:-/

The Human Person

2005-04-13T04:18:00.000-07:00

Was going through my therapy coursework today:

Because no two individuals ever have identical heredity endowments or the same environmental experiences, one can never predict with accuracy how people will react to a situation.

Damn right. And more disturbing:

While it is unquestionably true that some stages of growing up are marked by more difficult behaviour than others, there is no stage when the characteristic behaviour is not “problem behaviour”. Many of these difficult, unsocial, and often hard to understand forms of behaviour which appear at different times during the growing up years will gradually wane and disappear, only to be replaced by other forms of behaviour as difficult to understand and live with as the ones that have just been outgrown.

Great. Isn’t that just wonderful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The time has come for us to be strong again, I said to myself. She nodded, and we held each other close.

Three

2005-04-10T22:20:00.000-07:00

This is the funniest sms I have ever received – from anybody, ever!

Ii realized tht I just spoke 2 u.But i’m quite drunk.So I dont remember wat i said.Shud I come 2 the place or not?
_________________________________________________________

Went to a Bhakti geet concert in Nehru Park yesterday evening – bhajans and qawalli – felt like a soul massage.

Ishq had se nikal jaye to bimari hain,
Ishq had se nikal jaye to bimari hain,
Ishq had mein rahein to adaakari hain!

(Rough translation:

Love that exceeds limits is a disease
Love that stays within limits is a pretense!)
__________________________________________________________

Something I came across on bash.org. Since I just got a modem, and turned down an invitation to party on Saturday night to stay up chatting online, am a little concerned!

dine-sa: no it won't MoP, amusment park jobs actually suck
dine-sa: I had a friend who worked at six flags all summer.
SA-MoP: dine had a friend! *dies* :D
SA-Metathrom: Hehe
dine-sa: :P it was before I had a modem
SA-MoP: lol ok

One of my favourite paintings

2005-04-10T01:49:00.000-07:00

2005-04-10T01:47:00.000-07:00

'Goldfish' by Matisse

Hallelujah! / Girl Watching / Swami Ramananda

2005-04-10T01:27:00.000-07:00

Hallelujah! I’m finally online! After much trial and tribulation, getting a LAN card installed, buying a new keyboard since the jealous cat had peed on it twenty thousand times while I was away (I think in his sweet little brain he thought the computer had swallowed me up), getting a new CD drive so that the modem software could be installed…I am finally...online. Still lots of hiccups owing to this being a five year old machine – you can’t see my pretty face as you chat with me and the whole machine suddenly shuts down for no apparent reason (I did get the power cable and plug strip changed too so can’t be that). But, I am ONLINE!
_________________________________________________________

Went to see a Kitano film yesterday. Well, tried to see a Kitano film yesterday...the Jokester was sweet enough to say he’d go with me – I totally bullied him into it, and he almost had a heart attack on the way there when he found out it was in Japanese with sub-titles! Anyway, we got there and it wasn’t on, an error in damn ‘First City’. I should sue them. Was so embarrassed. And the Jokester wouldn’t let me hear the end of it! He thoroughly enjoyed my discomfort and kept making digs at me ("Damn, the one Japanese movie that I've waited my whole life to see - how could you do this woman!" etc etc). We ended up at Priya where we spent three quarters of an hour drinking local chai (not the machine type – please!) and sitting on the sidewalk while he instructed me in the art of girl watching. It was very informative. I thought he would be really superficial and go for great figures and lots of skin but it wasn’t like that at all. A woman who scored high had to be comfortable with what she was wearing, have an open and friendly face - doesn't have to be a stunner, SHOULD NOT BE TEETERING ON STILETTOES (it’s okay to wear them if you can walk in them!), should not hunch, should look confident, he doesn’t go for the intellectual looking types though. Oh and he prefers them covered and not with everything hanging out. Also was instructed in the fundamental principles (Never check out a woman less than 20 feet away, if they figure out you're checking them out they get all snooty.) Of course I supplied the mandatory feminist outrage – maybe she’s wearing it cos she’s feeling hot, so what if she wants to attract attention, what’s wrong with that?, how can you judge her entire character by what she’s wearing on one evening? etc. But I pretty much ended up agreeing with him :) Sorry womankind I did try to defend thee.
____________________________________________________________

Went to dinner with the Ducati Dreamer last night after avoiding him and putting him off for a while. We have known each other far too long to just cut off. Relationships are complicated, people are complicated – as long as I lay down the rules and boundaries and stick to them strictly we should be able to remain friends.
____________________________________________________________

Something else rather strange happened last night. But I know that will be fine too. Trust goes a long way.
____________________________________________________________

And now finally...yet another attempt at fiction! Something I jotted down a few months ago after observing something at a traffic light.

Swami Ramananda

Swami Ramananda tried not to look. But he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

Through the laterally inverted letters spelling ‘Chant Hare Rama Hare Krishna’ he saw her humming to herself, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. The red of her lips was richer than the red of her car. Her streaked hair framed her strong face – finely etched eyebrows, magnetic eyes.

How many times before had he felt this way – unashamed. Wasn’t it just human?, he thought to himself. And then felt the tears prick his eyeballs.

Affirmation

2005-04-06T23:26:00.000-07:00

During a short duration of twenty-four hours, some very pleasant things have taken place:

- Someone who has known me only a short while, but with whom I have bonded, said that I did not come across as socially phobic in any way. He did notice that there were periods when I preferred being alone, but saw this as positive. This is the HUGEST TROPHY in my wall of personal achievement.

- Was reading someone’s blog – he had posted a long list of random conclusions he has come to – from ‘Women are the source of all evil’ to ‘It’s time to move on’. And towards the bottom, one of the conclusions read ‘Cactus writes beautifully’. Gawrsh geez! Completely unexpected. Totally flattering.

- A young woman who I know from blogville and whom I chatted with for the first time said I was very high on her sexy list - strange, but flattering nonetheless.

- But the most treasured of all – a friend chose to share with me intimate details of a traumatic past, including what he sees as a shameful act. The fact that he trusts me so deeply is the best compliment I could ever receive. I will never betray that trust.

Kerala Bliss

2005-03-28T00:53:00.000-08:00

Too content to write ... :)

Stingy

2005-03-16T11:20:00.000-08:00

Now I am genuinely excited about going to Goa – not just something I’m saying to convince myself! Even if the aunt and the cousin and the cousin’s boyfriend will be there – so will be the BEACH, the SAND, the SEA, the lil shacks, the beer and the port wine!

Got a huge jhaad from B today. He made me realize that I’ve been spending way too much money – both his and mine (all those trips to tbe bank!). He’s right. I don’t know how I manage to spend so much money and have nothing to show for it at the end of the day – except some blue hair.

I sent him a message saying I was sorry and would try to return the money and he sent back this real sweet message – ‘This is not about paying back. You never get it. This is not just my money we are spending this is OUR money and I’m just trying to save some for US!’ :)

So now I’m going to be extremely stingy on this trip. Will not go overboard, will not buy things on a whim, will not have lots of fancy seafood meals, will limit myself to inexpensive presents – Kraz says he just wants sand anyway so that one’s easy! On the other hand the Englishman wants me to get him back a big sandy beach and the sea…uh oh!

In other news:

1. I cannot buy underwear from a man – I’m sorry but I just can’t.

2. I hope the Film Directorate doesn’t decide to send ‘Black’ to the Oscars – it would be so embarrassing. Actually, come to think of it, if they did send it, it would probably win – bah.

Goa

2005-03-16T00:53:00.000-08:00

I don’t want to go to Goa!!! Please someone save me.

Please hack into the airport computer and cancel all the flights. Then it will be only mom, sis, the niece and me in the posh hotel since we are ‘too poor’ to fly!

But seriously this is becoming ridiculous. I’ve been over-sleeping and avoiding phone calls. I have to snap out of it. I have to be careful cos I’m going to have two lovely days to brood about it on the train as well.

But really. I’ve never packed a swimsuit with so much unenthusiasm. Word tells me that ‘unenthusiasm’ isn’t even a word. Disenthusiasm? No doesn’t work either.

But anyway. It’s quite silly. Why should I feel that I have to compete. I’m me – bad hair and all – that’s all there is to it.

Here I go again

2005-03-15T06:33:00.000-08:00

I got my hair dyed blue. It turned out to be a rather witchy dark blue and I was really upset. But on coming home and checking it out I’ve decided I rather like it. It’s subtle – a metallic blue black. Plus I had her colour the inside of the hair and just two streaks so I think it should be fine even in the daylight.

My nails are now angel wing white! (or white-out white if you prefer the truth!)

Paid for the distance learning counselling diploma and received my course books today as well. Plus got to know that after a year I can choose to do the second year and attain an MS degree in psychotherapy. Quite excited!

Though I have to say that this Institute is quite irresponsible. The lady said that after one completes the diploma course one can open a private practice as a counsellor as long as the board says counsellor and not psychotherapist. But the course has absolutely no practical application. Scary to have counsellors out there who have never handled a case, only read books. But I know why I’m doing it so it’s okay.

Called FTII today about the short term course I had been selected for but couldn’t go to because of the darn Goa trip. The guy was really nice and said that my application would be valid for when the course next took place and I would not have to re-apply. He even said that I would be informed about the next course and needn’t worry.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Jokester's back - he'd never gone away. :)

Yet another bank story!

2005-03-14T09:57:00.000-08:00

Went to my bank this evening – the snazzy MNC.

I wasn’t quite myself, so when the woman said that the systems were down and I wanted to ask her what time the bank opens in the morning I ended up saying:

What time do you wake up?

I went out for a chai and when I came back to find out whether the system was now functioning I said:

Are your sisters up?

And both times, she gave me this really glassy look – with her hair and clothes oh so immaculate.

Gimme Mrs. Mehta any day!

Fuck you - fuck all of you

2005-03-14T04:35:00.000-08:00

Did want my Mom always made me do when I was in a foul mood – cleaned my cupboard. Put all the winter clothes away. Feeling better for it.

I shall amputate the Ducati Dreamer from my life for he is but a gangrenous limb.

I shall go out to see Meet the Fockers alone tonight for everyone is busy with everyone else. I shall come home alone in public transport on the dark Delhi roads cos no one gives a damn anyway.

Good Friends

2005-03-13T12:42:00.000-08:00

- The Jokester hasn’t returned my call. I guess he’s finally had enough of me.

- The Ducati Dreamer has been treating me like a slut because I confided that I was confused about a lust relationship.

- And you, I’ve desecrated our friendship by fantasizing about being married to you.

I don’t know what to say in conclusion.

Niece's Story :)

2005-03-12T12:53:00.000-08:00

Wan day ther wos a ant. His gardn wos fild with flawas. He loves his gardn. So evree day he yoostoo .go aoot. but wan day wen he went auot he so that ther wore no flawares.he was sad so he went for a trale. For faeending his flavrs.
For faeeding his flavs he had to go in
The jungal. [flaws he shaouts]
But ther was no ansre so
He wocte along
Sudnly he hrd a hapy saoud and a silwe trel !he flod the trel. Ther bihiynde a bous
Ther stoud a bunch of flawrs the ant took them away and lived happily ever after.

The End

Now how can I compete with that? :)

Today

2005-03-12T01:13:00.000-08:00

- I have the worst cramps ever. Damn Eve for biting into the darn apple.

- It’s blazing hot. The title of this blog has to go.

- Turning blog friendships into real friendships is complicated work.

- Had to get DD’s made – only from the State Bank of India for some stupid reason. Walked there with the cramps in the blazing heat. The woman wanted to know what I do and I was in no mood for a chat so gave her a vague answer which led to more questions and vaguer answers. She concluded that what I do is illegal. Can’t understand why. Maybe she thought I make porn films. What is it with me and Punjabi women bank officers?

- Why Million Dollar Baby? Why why why why why why why?

Clara's Story

2005-03-11T03:00:00.000-08:00

The Ducati Dreamer said that this piece was proof that I have no talent – but what the heck, it was written with little thought and I enjoyed writing it!

Clara’s Story

Once upon a time, in a land not far from ours, there lived a girl called Clara. Now Clara was not the typical heroine of a fairy story – she was rather plain looking and had lank, limp hair. Clara was plump, most people were rude enough to call her ‘fat’. She also had lots of zits – especially in her oily T-zone area.

Now Clara had the most beautiful sister – Cinderella. Not only was Cinderella fair of face with cascading golden curls, she was also sweet of nature and had a kind heart.

Clara’s heart would fill with jealousy as she saw sweet Cinderella, looking ethereally beautiful in her plain clothes, go about cleaning the floors and the toilet bowls with a sweet song on her smiling lips and a dreamy look in her eyes. For Cinderella always dreamt of her Prince Charming.

At times Clara could not stand it. She would kick Cinderella meanly while she was moping and make her fall down and graze her chin. She would hurry away before Cinderella got up, but would grin nastily at her yelp of pain. Fortunately for Clara, Cinderella was not her real sister but her step-sister, so her behaviour was not only condoned, but encouraged. Her mother and other sister treated Cinderella like a servant – pushing her around, screaming at her, not giving her enough to eat. And Clara joined in – she would abuse Cinderella and pull her hair and box her till her teeth were bloody. But surprisingly, Clara noticed that the more she abused Cinderella, the prettier and more fragile she seemed to become. Whereas, her own face in the mirror began to harden, her mouth looked mean, and her eyes looked smaller, the wrinkles seemed more deeply etched than yesterday.

One day there was a GRANDE ANNOUNCEMENT in the town hall. The Prince was throwing a ball – and all young ladies of the kingdom – whether skinny or fat were invited. Of course this caused a lot of excitement in the young girls’ household – sashes were bought and lace sewed on to silk dresses. Clara was terribly nervous – she had never been to a ‘ball’ before. She looked enviously at Cinderella’s thin waist and ordered her to pull her corset tighter. She felt quite out of breath, and when she looked at herself in the mirror she didn’t quite recognize herself – who was this creature all dolled and made up? It didn’t look like her. It didn’t feel like her. She longed to slip out of the high-heels into her comfy loafers but her sister and her mother were already pushing her out of the door.

At the ball Clara couldn’t stop fidgeting. She half upset her rum punch out of nervousness and constantly stared at her red toes. Suddenly she saw a pair of black shoes stop in front of her. ‘Hello’ someone said. She looked up to see the face of a bored young gent offering her his hand for a dance – it was obvious that he had only asked her because all the other ladies had been taken.

Clara blushed and put her hand in his. She wasn’t sure what she was doing, she had always refused invitations to dance before. Clara stepped on to the dance floor, and as she did, she felt her frustration and antagonism rise like a ball inside her. But all of a sudden she was dancing. Miracle of miracles – she was dancing! She felt light-footed as the boy swung her around. She felt her corset snap and the tightly wound ball inside her began to dissipate. She smiled, and as she did, she felt the hardness leave her face. She heard the clock strike twelve, and from the corner of her eye saw the beautiful Cinderella scurry up the staircase with the Prince behind her – and she was twirling again and noticed that all the other dancers were standing to the sides of the room looking at her and her partner, smiling appreciatively.

A week later, as Clara was discussing the plans for opening her dance school with the loan officer, she heard a squeal of delight from the next room. She went in and saw two of the Prince’s men, one kneeling down as he had just fitted a glass slipper on Cinderella’s foot. And as Cinderella sat there, pointing her glass-slippered foot daintily, Clara found herself squeezing her step-sister’s shoulders and kissing her cheek. And to her surprise, there was a gladdening in her heart.

~ The End ~

Sufi Goosebumps!

2005-03-06T11:33:00.001-08:00

Came across these bits of Sufi poetry today…they’re so beautiful, they make me feel like dying…have to share:

I become you,
you become me.
I become the soul,
you the heart.
How can they now claim
I am apart, you are apart?

- Aamir Khusrau

By day I praised you
and never knew it.
By night I stayed with you
and never knew it.
I always thought that
I was me — but no,
I was you
and never knew it!

- Rumi

Aaar!! How come something be so beautiful??

Family >blech<

2005-03-04T08:37:00.000-08:00

A Auntie arrived last night.

I have been dreading this visit ever since I heard of it.

I am going to write now, of every single negative thing I have ever felt about her, my cousin and my uncle. I want it all to be in one place, all the negativity. It all dates back to when I was very young, so it may sound selfish or even ungrateful. You are forewarned, skip this post if you hate personal vent sessions!

Background: A Auntie is my father’s elder sister. The only family I have from his side, besides his two other children. She went to a snooty convent boarding school when she was young and then went to London when she was about 18, got married to a Canadian and has lived in Vancouver ever since.

1. When I was ten, I made a one month trip to Vancouver, alone, to visit my aunt and her family. It was traumatic. The first thing she did was open my suitcase and was barely able to disguise her revulsion at seeing my clothes, which I guess were sub-standard according to her. I suppose she felt that she would be embarrassed if I was to wear those clothes in front of her friends cos she immediately went out and bought me a complete change of wardrobe – down to underwear. I never once wore the clothes I brought with me from India while I was there. Needless to say, it made me feel poor.

2. It was Christmas time and she encouraged me and my cousin to write our lists to Santa. In my home, these lists were always very long. It didn’t mean that we expected to get all that was on the list. It was more like we (my sister and I) would give a huge selection so that Santa could choose what he wanted to get us from these lists. She and my uncle took me aside and said that my list was rather long. I remember her husband saying that they were not as rich as I might think and that they could not get me all the things on the list. This, of course embarrassed me no end. They saw me as taking advantage of them.

3. My sister was then studying in the US. They placed a call to her so that I could speak with her, but before I even took the phone told me not to talk too long cos it was expensive.

4. My cousin was always painted as this wonderfully talented, intelligent person. I found her to be rude and spoilt. When she came to India later she turned up her nose at everything.

5. Whenever my aunt came to India (including this time), she always makes comments on India that really irk me. Like ‘oh, the indicator lights on the cars actually work – ha ha’. Or today ‘I never get my nice clothes to India cos if the grime sets in then there’s nothing you can do to get it out. Your clothes are just ruined then’.

6. I remember, again when I was in Canada, my uncle telling us how baths wasted water and showers didn’t. I said that that must be why in India we don’t have bath tubs and he said no that’s because Indians are poor.

7. My aunt is always poking her nose into the way we live, trying to ‘make things right’. I remember how she would try to make me visit my father more often by painting a sorry picture of him and trying to make me feel guilty. It didn’t work.

8. When she would bring us presents, I always got the feeling that it wasn’t because she wanted to genuinely give us something. There would always be this undertone of ‘you are less fortunate’. So she would get me a dress and tell me how my cousin has the same one, and I guess I was supposed to feel privileged that I was getting to wear the same thing as my better cousin. Or she would give us cosmetics which were obviously free samples that she had got when she purchased her regular supply.

Gosh now I feel really mean. She can be quite sweet and nice. And I’m sure in her heart she felt she was doing the right thing.

Maybe writing all this down will help me deal with her better.

Girl Talk

2005-02-28T03:45:00.000-08:00

I go to my husband’s bank to withdraw money, a national bank.

The woman behind the counter is extra-friendly. She asks my name, says she’s seen me come in before with my husband and that she and the other staff discussed how B ki missus kitni sweet hai. I smile nervously and squirm.

She calls me beti and tells me to please write at the back of a deposit slip ‘YK Gupta and Yashwant Kumar Gupta one and the same person’. Pictures of the multinational bank where I have my own account flash in my mind – the spartan cleanliness, staff older than me calling me ‘Ma’am’. I meekly write what she asks me to. Next is ‘M Sinha and Mahesh Sinha one and the same person.’

I glance at the time on my phone, afraid I’m going to be late.

She asks me how long I’ve been married.

Four years.

Any issue?

No.

Why??

I smile shyly, evade the question by feigning feminine modesty.

I get asked about my background, whether the cultural differences between me and my husband have ever been a problem, whether we stay with my in-laws, what I cook him for dinner…

Achcha, tum kuch bindi-sindoor vagehra nahin pehenti, mother-in-law kuch bolti nahin hai kya?

Pehle bolti thi… par ab give up kar diya.

Mrs. Mehta behind the counter. Salwar-kameez, glasses on a chain, gold in her ears.

Me, in front. Jeans, black finger nails, sans jewellery of any kind.

She pauses, stops counting money. Looks up, directly into my eyes — and bursts out laughing. I join in her laughter. And in that moment, woman to woman, we connect.

Bheja Fry

2005-02-24T13:44:00.000-08:00

Stark naked
She sits
Alone
Silently
Reflecting

Who cares
What the fuck you’re eating
When you aren’t a part of me

He drops the phone, smashes in two
Then the mouse as well
Jealously meows

Damn I wish I was a poet!

Bheja fry after six days of working non-stop and little sleep. Just got home. Cat is angry that I’ve been away all day. Can’t sleep. Sipping tea. Something nice about hearing the keys go click-clack, but have nothing to say.

Wish I had internet at home so I could chat with one of you beautiful people, or at least read up on your interesting blogs.

Too late to even call anyone, except maybe the Ducati Dreamer, getting a temporarily disconnected message on his number.

Aaah cat has decided to be nice and has stopped flinging my stuff off the desk. Sitting, purring in my lap as I type, watching my hands on the keyboard – bliss! Now looking up at me adoringly…

How are you doing tonight, beautiful folk. You down south, did you notice how lovely the moon is tonight? The two of you from different parts of the country, now at different corners of my city – are you enveloped in the warm cocoon of sleep? I shall stay awake and stop the cobwebs from getting into your dreams. And you, at the opposite end of the globe – howz ur day going? Did the sun shine down on you as you drove to work today?

Apologies, as I said - bheja fry!!

Yearning / Self Centred

2005-02-23T08:34:00.000-08:00

Will you teach me how to cook your famous prawn pasta? Giggling in the kitchen, sipping wine.

Will you argue that ‘The Last Question’ is in fact, not the mother of all stories?

Will you read out the abstract piece you wrote about cutlery before we fall asleep?

Will you run your hand up my back so that the warmth of your palm strengthens my spine?

Sweet stranger, won’t you step out of my mind and walk with me?
____________________________________________________

I have never been able to talk to people about things that have affected me. Not in school or college, not till a few months ago. Two people I have told this fact to recently were shocked – the Jokester and a Senior Counsellor at the centre where I work.

I never did cos my friends came from such different backgrounds that I knew they wouldn’t be able to relate. And I always felt that I was being self-centred, making mountains out of molehills, at least that’s the message I got from my family.

And when I grew up and talked to lovers and boyfriends, I would get quick fix remedies, they would try to solve things for me in ten minutes so that it would all be tied up and we could move on to the next movie or party or dinner.

All I wanted was to be heard. And held.

I thank the sweet angels who guided me to blogville. Mindless, bored surfing led to a diamond mine. I think it has been this blog where I have expressed myself obtusely and been accepted, that has given me the courage to open up, at least a little, in the real world.

The Jokester said that he always thought of me as a really strong person, as the epitome of ‘woman power’ – I’m glad I have been able to strip that mask away and say ‘No, I’m not okay’, and know that that’s fine.

To the bloggers who have tried to reach out, you know who you are, thank you. I will not sob on your shoulder, but just the fact that you wrote in is enough. I will not call, but I have your number stored in my phone and it comforts me when I chance upon it.
____________________________________________________

Talk of irony, the last five days when B was here and the family too, I was busy editing day and night and did not get to see any of them. And now when I’m finally about to get free everyone’s left.

The editing thing hasn’t been fun. The producer overestimated my experience and skill and I haven’t been able to live up to her expectations. Feeling quite stressed and physically unwell.
_____________________________________________________

Bible-toting L (plain L of previous posts) just sent me a message asking me to call him cos he needed an excuse to get out of some place.

Afraid I did a really terrible job – told him he had to get his ass here cos the house was on fire – and he started giggling and stuff – don’t think it would have looked very convincing on the other end!

Alive, Kicking and Dead Tired!

2005-02-23T05:42:00.000-08:00

Gawrsh - so many people worried about me! I been fine beautiful folk - just really busy. Wrote the below post some days ago but wasn't able to post it...

19th Feb 12:13 am

Was planning to temporary suspend this blog this morning, but have now decided to keep it alive for a while.

Am going to meet a blog pal soon. Am surprised at myself for having extended the invite, but somehow just felt that it would be fine. Have already spoken with him twice on the phone, and he sounds even nicer than I had thought.

This is the first time that I will be meeting in person, someone I’ve met on the internet. Should be interesting.

An old blog pal has also suddenly got in touch, expressing a desire to renew our friendship. Since we have a history and he tends to be extremely touchy about remarks made, and very cautious when sharing aspects of his life, am not so sure how it will work out. Hoping it does.

Mom, sister and the niece are staying at our place for the next five days since their house is being painted. Today is the first night that they are staying here and I’m really enjoying it! Niece tends to terrorize the cat though, so need to keep a look out for that.

Husband B too returns tomorrow morning. So missed him this time. Unfortunately he’s only staying for the weekend and I’m going to be editing day and night (in fact I should be going through the darn script right now – bah!) so don’t know how much time we will be able to spend together :(

Have been enjoying interacting with the people in my counseling centre. Somehow, we all seem to be spiritually inclined – so have had conversations regarding astrology, the karma theory, the Bhagvad Gita, Gandhi, Vivekananda, Osho, the Silva method – even had a tarot card reading today!

Was in a moral dilemma yesterday. Told the Ducati Dreamer about it, and the wonderfully logical person that he is, he spelled out three options – the first to just go ahead and not think of morality or the consequences, the second to take a strong stand and nip the thing in the bud and the third if I can’t be strong to simply ignore the situation. Have opted for the third and started the ignoring process. He also insisted that I should phone him if I get confused, before taking any action, no matter what time of day or night it may be and no matter how silly I think I may be. Thank God for oldfriends. He is a dumb ass a lot of the time, but I’m so thankful that he’s helping me through this.
_____________________________________________________

And here is something I’ve wanted to post for a while, again from The Human Face, had lent it to the Jokester and got it back recently:

Our fear of being ‘different’, an outsider to the group, is deep-rooted. For many people the trouble with being a ‘normal’ person, psychologically as well as physically, is that it requires hiding a lot of oneself. Presenting an acceptable persona to the world all the time means that aspects of our inner selves are not to be acknowledged. These aspects of the self, repressed because they do not fit the persona we want to project, are called by Jung the ‘shadow’. They gather strength by not being expressed, and influence our lives from the unconscious. They can poison our psyche and become dangerous.

Relate this with Travis Bickle’s inner dialogue on the right (About Me section) and you’ll understand why he finally goes on a killing spree! The genius of the script writer – was it Paul Schrader? Can’t remember.
_____________________________________________________

1:03 am

Just went through the script, the good girl that I am! And found the following quotes on women (the film is about women’s empowerment) that I quite liked:

- A woman’s place is in the house and the senate.
- Every mother is a working mother.
- Feminism is the radical notion that women are people.

And another, unrelated to women:

Once I gave up on reality, I had so many more options!

Schizophrenia / "Friends"

2005-02-12T02:52:00.000-08:00

It’s a strange paradox that I have been going through the last few weeks.

Fluctuating between feeling lonely and wanting to be left alone. And one of the feelings is not the tone for the day, it keeps changing throughout the day, every few hours, throwing me off my feet.

I know I have worked very hard at being okay with being alone. To be alright being by myself, to not get depressed. And I can’t understand why my mind is behaving this way.

For example, last night when the Ducati Dreamer (‘J’ of posts previous) invited himself over to watch Pulp Fiction I was glad of the company since I had not been looking forward to spending the evening alone. But then when he came, I found myself wishing he wasn’t here so that I could bathe, read, write, do my own thing.

I’ve been going out alone a lot recently – bought a bunch of tickets for the film festival – and every time I have to go to see one of them, alone again, this horrible wave of sadness comes over me, but once I’m in the hall I’m absolutely fine and am glad that I don’t have to chat with anyone.

Went to see Meenaxi alone this morning, feeling kinda sorry for myself, when I got a message from the Englishman inviting me to have a drink this evening. And instead of feeling glad that someone was thinking of me, I found myself thinking of ways to get out of it.

Then when I came online and saw no replies to my emails and no-one online on messenger I felt extremely low.

I don’t get me.

Is this a good thing, finding my mind interesting enough such that I don’t need company? I’m scared that it’s terribly unhealthy.

Is this the path to becoming a recluse? (Or a schizophrenic?)

And this brings me to something else that's been on my mind for a few weeks...What is friendship anyway? It seems to me that there is always someone in my life that I most like being with, and then we grow apart or there is a misunderstanding, and I replace that person with someone else. And so it goes on. It seems horrible to me and not the way it should be.

Any clarity on the two issues in this post will be much appreciated.

Figaro! / Self Flagellation / Child Speak

2005-02-06T21:55:00.000-08:00

Figaro!

I just don't get opera.
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Self Flagellation

So this guy who called in the 0ther day - his girlfriend of four years left him a year ago - he writes her an email, then goes to her inbox (unknown to her, he knows her password) and deletes it.

The things we do to ourselves.
__________________________________________________

Child Speak

Poem by six-year-old niece, posted by proud aunt!

You can see by stripes
You can make even ballet
Friendship can teach you not only the schools
Helping friendship, making ballet, is very good

When you think you are going to not do these things
It will only happen if you believe
It can be by friendship, even by you
You are my best friend
You are my best friend

You can be friends with even by bad people
You have to teach them to do that and this
Then they will learn that thing
You are my best friend !

Both of us were both

2005-02-04T02:05:00.000-08:00

I had a dream.

We were together in my dream.

We were brother and sister...mother and father...husband and wife.

And both of us were both.

- From The Princess and the Warrior

I have graduated from being lonely to being bored.

I have realized the difference between loneliness and aloneness. I have learnt to be comfortable being on my own.

But that doesn't mean I like it.

Masti ka time over kya?

2005-02-02T03:34:00.000-08:00

Why does my mind keep flitting today?

I have been very aware of it doing so - there's this sort of puzzlement - hmm err - what next?

Bathed and went to the bank, got out money and knew I had to do some boring house shopping - detergent powder and soap.

Saw an auto and caught it, thinking I'd take it to the chemist near my home where I could make these purchases. Got off mid-way, went to a cyber-cafe, put up a post on this blog, read some others, wrote a mail.

What next? I decided that I must make my mind focus. There were small things I needed to do today - one errand to run for B in Sarvpriya Vihar, two phone calls to make on his behalf to clients - chasing payments. Tried to make a plan, decided to make a plan and stick to it but my mind wouldn't let me.

Went to the chemist, bought the stuff and am now back home, writing this crap.

What is wrong with me?

Maybe it's time now to think of working again, in earnest. Too much fun and masti?

Actually come to think of it, I'm not unhappy right now. I could stay home, the whole evening, alone, quite peacefully. But something's nagging me - telling me to get a sense of direction.

Sigh.

I do wish someone would call.

Pride Hath a Fall? / Page 3

2005-02-01T22:52:00.000-08:00

Am feeling very good and proud of myself.

Yesterday was my first day of duty as a counselor and I was extremely nervous. Had a dream the night before that I was talking to a young girl on the phone and she could not hear me.

But after the first call it was all smooth sailing!

The reason I am proud of myself is that I managed to help a young boy who’s been having wet dreams and was feeling extremely confused and guilty.

He started off by saying could he come and meet someone at the counseling centre and I had to persuade him to try talking to me first. He started by saying he was extremely depressed and felt that there was no one he could talk to. He had a personal problem which he told to a friend and the friend went and told everyone at school and ‘ab sab meri mazaak udaa rahe hain.’ Gentle probing and assurances of confidentiality made him reveal that ‘mujhe raat ko sapne aate hain aur meri body mein kuch changes hote hain – poore bedsheet kharaab ho jaate hai’. When I asked him if he would like to talk to a male counselor he said no he was fine with me :)

What followed was a short biology lesson and reassurance that he wouldn’t get weak from it and no, he didn’t need to go to a doctor.

At the end of the call he said ‘Thank you. Aap se baat kar ke mera man halka ho gaya hai. Mein is bare mein kisee se kahe nahin pa raha tha’. :) :)

Took nine calls in total. Ranging from a mother who was paranoid that he daughter was studying too much, which was 4 hours a day, quite normal in this day and age with the Boards only a month away. In contrast was a young X class boy who was studying 14 hours a day, with five minute exercise breaks in between each hour. He said he could concentrate well and did not feel stressed as he spent 2-3 hours with his colony friends or with his family each day. He had done really well in his Pre-Boards as well. He was doing every thing right, yet felt there was something that maybe he could be doing better!
________________________________________________________

Went to see Page 3 on Monday night – awesome!

a) Great how so many social/human issues are woven in so seamlessly – the whole Page 3 phenomenon, single women living alone, child abuse, communal violence, homosexuality, yellow journalism, the Mumbai trains :), remorse, fragility, suicide…

b) Amazing how women are the central characters, yet it hasn’t been promoted as cliched ‘strength of a woman’ crap.

c) Every dialogue in the film has a purpose. There is not one extraneous line, each line moves the film forward.

d) The last scene where the protagonist makes silent observations and smiles to herself and the last freeze frame with the super ‘A Madhur Bhandarkar Film’ – yaaaaaa – gave me goosebumps!

Am going to see it again with me mom!

Vir Das / Last Night

2005-01-31T02:04:00.000-08:00

Vir Das

Went to Vir Das’s stand-up show on Saturday and was somewhat disappointed.

Saw him on ‘We the People’ once – an episode about how parents hire detective agencies to spy on their kids and was really impressed with the (what seemed like spontaneous) comments that he made. In fact, I was so excited about his show that I went all the way to the IHC and bought the tickets way in advance.

Took the Jokester with me. (Am attempting to give names to the people in my life, the Jokester is the ‘F’ of previous posts). The Jokester is the best stand-up comic I personally know. He is quick with smart-assed, hilarious responses and is a great mimic. Of late we have been connecting on an intellectual level, and I have got the feeling that he finds this particular talent of his a bit of a strain, as if he feels he needs to perform all the time, that people won’t want to be around him if he doesn’t.

Anyhow, I digress.

This is why I didn’t like his show:

a) A lot of the jokes I had heard before and so did not originate in his brain.

b) The theme was the ‘Battle of the Sexes’ and the notions of how men and women perceive things differently were quite old-fashioned. For example, men not being interested in shoes – jesus, all my male friends are more into shoes than any of my female friends! And several other stereotypical attitudes which don’t really hold true anymore. I personally think a stand-up comic needs to be more with the times.

c) A lot of the situations wouldn’t really occur in the Indian context. For example, a girlfriend insisting that her man give her the key to his apartment. Yes, maybe amongst a very very very low percentage. But the thing is, there are so many things in the Indian context which would make great material for humour.

Now that I have actually typed all this out, I do feel I am being over-critical. I guess I expected much more from him. Plus I have been to the Comedy Club in London, and so am judging him against the very best. These guys were awesome – reacting to the audience, changing their act accordingly.

The Jokester felt that he must have felt somewhat constrained in his routine since he was dealing with an audience which may not be very aware, and so that he may have felt the need to dumb down his act.

I sensed that this was going to change into an excuse for him not getting into it – I have been trying to persuade him to try stand-up professionally. And so I gave him a brilliant suggestion – the Jokester is also a prodigious drummer and bassist, and is in a band. So I told him he could do his routine at gigs, during the interval between two bands. There is so much that’s funny about the Indian rock scene, and since the audience would consist of musicians and people who hang with musicians he could make very specific jokes and they would get them! I think I am quite brilliant to have come up with this :) But he is a lazy 22 year old so I wonder if he’ll work towards it…
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Last Night

Last night I felt I was dying.

It was awful. I’d gone to a jazz concert at a club – the greats Jonas Hellsborg and Gary Husband. I didn’t drink too much – was in the middle of my third drink – but someone was passing a spliff around and I think that was what did me in.

I felt dizzy. It felt awful to move even just a little and my sense of touch was so heightened that even a friendly tousling of my hair felt like a tsunami wave.

It was a really bad trip – I really thought that it was the end. I broke out in a cold sweat and my extremities turned numb. Thank thank God, B was there to look after me.

I felt so bad that I did what I have never done before – the old finger down the throat and puked all over the floor. This made me feel much better and I went into hysterical laughter next.

Puked again in the car – not in thankfully, out the window, but while I was in it.

Yuck. Awful.

Earlier that evening had a great time though – Gary Husband was phenomenal and the Jokester was hanging around him getting him water, adjusting his stands etc. and when Gary said he kind of liked a woman there, I think the Jokester would have even agreed to pimp for him. The Jokester was totally awe-struck and was just staring at Mr. Husband with an open mouth and an I-don’t-believe-this expression, nervous laughter escaping at intervals!

During the break he came and sat with the Jokester and me and we had a nice conversation during which I quite embarrassed the Jokester in front of his idol – ha ha!

In fact, it was really cute how all the Delhi bassists stood to the left of the stage so that they could see Jonas clearly, all the guitarists were to the right of the stage and all the drummers at the back! I really enjoyed watching their expressions! Just shows how starved for good music Delhi is.

I have never understood the purpose of a drum solo – they have always bored me. For me, good drumming is about holding a great groove. But Gary’s solo yesterday really rocked – he can be so gentle with regular sticks to make them seem like brushes, real dexterity. Was quite blown.

Stupid Days

2005-01-24T00:26:00.000-08:00

For the past two days I have let extremely self-destructive behaviour take over me.

I have for the sake of love and affection gone to stupid extremes.

Thank goodness in both cases the people involved were good friends and did not take advantage of the situation. They had a fair idea of what I have been through and what is compelling me to act so, and were supportive. I am so thankful for that.

One of them is now online but I do not feel the need to reach out.

What else has happened since I last wrote? I had a birthday and am now a year older.

Delhi has been extremely cold and one doesn’t feel like going out at all which is depressing.

I was chosen as a volunteer counsellor, they did say that the fact that I may transfer my own trauma on to the callers is a concern and that they would have to monitor me closely. Have been in training for the past three days.

Lots of interesting things in the training, lots of insights, lots of observations but don’t really feel like writing about them right now.

I am feeling a little low, yet peaceful and contemplative. Not really stressed out nor is my brain churning with random thoughts.

It’s going to be one of those days – ah well, maybe the evening will be brighter.

Unashamed Voyeurism

2005-01-12T09:18:00.000-08:00

This is the automatic writer list in the google search box at the computer in the cyber cafe that I have been frequenting recently:

AdultFriendFinder
Air Canada website
Air India website
Air Kuwait website
Airlines from Delhi to Washington DC
anand and anand delhi
articals on children education
articals on children education in India
articles in the newspapers in India on children education
articles in the newspapers on children education
articles on children in the Indian newspapers and magazines
articles on children magazines in India
assamese
bank of baroda
bennetton
buy benetton clothing online
buy benetton online
dafoodile software company
dance classes in south delhi with rates
dire straits guitar tabs
dredging corporation limited
erotic
eroticsex
gay videos
girl boy sex
GT SHELBY
guitar chords
hard porn
hindi film songs
hsmp guidance notes 7.2.4
icici careers
idbi bank
indian rail.gov.in
indiantrains
insurance
insurance + types
medical transcription delhi
National law university, Bangalore
National law university, jodhpur
nokia mobile rates delhi
P
panoramic images
peno vaginal sex
pinkworld
platelets
pueguot cars
rediffmail
rediffmail.com
reshmarevealing pictures
rock music tabs guitar
ROLLS ROYCE PHANTOM PHOTO GALLERY
ROLLS ROYCE GALLERY
SEND BUGATTI PICTURES VIA EMAIL
sexual dissatisfaction woman
south actress reshma revealing pictures
south indian horny aunties
Symbiosis –law
Symbiosis law institute-pune
Symbiosis society’s law college
wet revealing south Indian aunty
winter heart enzymes
writing distance learning
XAT

Thought of the type of people who would have put in those search words. Tried to link which ones could have come from the same person. Realized how I think in stereotypes!

Another reason to be grateful

2005-01-12T01:01:00.000-08:00

Jim Cooke lives in New York State. He has normal eyesight, but he cannot recognize his own face in the mirror. He has to shave by feeling his way around his features. In 1995, then aged forty-eight, Jim went in for a brain operation. When he came round, he realized something was wrong. It took him several days to figure out that he could not see faces properly any more. Jim was now suffering from prosopagnosia. This term is derived from prosopon (‘face’) and agnosia (‘lack of knowledge’), and refers to a disorder in which people can see most things normally, but when they look at a face they see only a canvas of features that do not form a meaningful image. They cannot recognize the face as someone familiar.

You can be born with this rare illness, but more commonly it occurs as the result of adult brain damage. While the brain as a whole is involved with most perceptual functions, there is a tiny, specialized section of the brain that is intimately involved with the recognizing of faces. It is called the fusiform. In a scanner it lights up with electrical activity whenever a person looks at a face. If the fusiform gets damaged we cannot recognize the face as a face – and Jim’s fusiform area was damaged during the operation.

Jim explains that when he sees faces: ‘It’s almost as if everyone’s wearing stocking- masks.’ It is disturbing for Jim if people recognize and approach him in the street, since he has no way of placing them or guessing who they are. Most of us forget the odd name or face, but Jim can’t see faces at all. Most distressing for Jim is the fact that he cannot respond to the faces of his own children. When he goes to meet his twenty-year-old son Tommy, or his eighteen-year-old daughter Cindy, he cannot recognize them. Tom and Cindy have learnt to cope with their father’s illness. They make sure that they say ‘Hi, Dad’ or identify themselves every time they approach him.

Prosopagnosics evolve complex strategies to deal with their illness. They become expert in differentiating voices and clothing, so as not to give away their problems. But for anyone, this is an enormously debilitating illness.

Jim Cooke says that: ‘When I look in a mirror, I’m not there. I’ll see items on the wall behind me, but a blank in the middle…’

- From The Human Face, Brian Bates with John Cleese

EQ

2005-01-11T00:00:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I went to volunteer as a counsellor for a Help Line for young people.

I was handed a long questionnaire to fill with questions like:

- How do you deal with anger?
- Have you ever felt cheated? How did you deal with the situation.
- Have you ever been through a traumatic phase in your life?
- How do you feel when someone questions your integrity?

I felt like running out of the room. But facing the woman who gave me the form, explaining why I wanted to run out of the room seemed like a worse situation.

So I decided to follow the advice at the top of the form to the T "Be honest, there are no right or wrong answers". And gave plenty of evidence of being immature and an emotional cripple.

I will be deemed too unstable to counsel. :/

The Mezz

2005-01-10T02:34:00.000-08:00

I don’t know what it is about the Mezz.

The last two times I’ve been there I have not been myself. It’s as if the atmosphere is conducive to shedding inhibitions. Or maybe there’s a mini Elizabeth Hurley with horns and tail smiling down on me from behind the bar.

The last time I went there I had this great experience – almost spiritual – where the world was one big happy place and I knew what I was doing in it. I was hugging people, dancing, it was all like one big smile.

Then yesterday, I don’t know what it was, perhaps the fact that I was still tired out from the party on Sat night, or maybe because the music sucked big time, but I suddenly found myself being judgmental and rude. I am the sort of person who never engages in any sort of confrontation if I can avoid it. Heck, not so long ago I was the kind of person who would not engage in any sort of conversation if I could avoid it! So I am quite surprised at myself.

First I told Vishal Dadlani of Pentagram that he was tight-assed and should learn how to relax. I was just getting this really negative vibe from him, competitive and mean, destroying the positive atmosphere. He was saying snide things, things that mostly go unnoticed cos they are so indirect, but I was catching on to all of them. The shifty eyes. I can’t stand that in the music circle. Music should be about peace and love not about how every vocalist in India except me can’t sing.

Then I turned on B’s friend A. He has a four year old son and had another one just five days ago. Despite the fact that his wife just gave birth he was at the party on Sat nite and got so blown that he had to stay over and was at it again on Sunday. I saw him draped all over this young semi-clad thing talking about how he was disillusioned with marriage and could he look her up when he was in Bombay. I can empathize with someone whose confused about life and the decisions he’s made, but not when that person is a huge, big fake like he is. He talks in a weird American drawl though he’s never been to the US, dyes his beard and hair in various shades of blonde and red, and claims to be spiritual and a great bhakt of some guru. I would find this endearing in a teenager or someone in their twenties but not in a forty year old with two kids.

He came over to us, totally doped out, and started talking about how confused he was and how life had treated him so badly and I just couldn’t take it so I had a wise-ass rejoinder for everything he said. For example when he said he felt like he was in an ocean and couldn’t see the sun I said that I’d pray that he’d drown. And other stuff which I can’t remember till he got up and said he’d see us guys later and walked away. Later on when we were leaving and he was entreating B not to go yet I yelled ‘We have lives!’

I don’t know what I would have done if either of them had started to take me on and had been rude back cos I am extremely slow-witted and wouldn’t have known how to react. (This is the only reason why I wouldn’t win Miss India!)

I think what I had on my side was the fact that they have always perceived me as this sweet, silent person so they were taken aback yesterday.

It felt great though! Thanks Liz!

Pseunami

2005-01-09T07:32:00.000-08:00

One thing that has struck and interested me about the Tsunami incident is how people have become so concerned about the pseudoness of giving aid / feeling for the victims.

It started when I read a post by a fellow blogger about how he hated himself for not feeling bad about the victims. This same guy, on New Year’s Eve decided not to go to the most happening party in town and stayed home alone instead. He felt that he just could not party in the wake of the tragedy. This led to the dilemma of what he should tell his friends when they asked what he did on New Year’s Eve. He felt that if he told them the truth they would think he was being pseudo. Yet if he lied and told them he went to the biggest party in town, he would definitely be untrue. How can you not love this twenty-something dealing with confusion, trying to do the right thing, trying to be true to himself.

Then yesterday my Mom watching SRK on TV being interviewed on his donation said that all these Bollywood people were just trying to be one up on each other. Especially since he was saying that he preferred not going to the affected areas since he would be a distraction, she thought that this as a well-thought out excuse for not doing what Vivek Oberoi has.

Last night at a party, a girl was saying how she went to all these fancy parties and these rich women would talk about taking out their clothes to donate. She was saying how fake it was, sitting in these elegant drawing rooms ‘pretending’ to empathize. Her husband who works for a PR agency told us how all the MNCs, Coke specifically, were trying to cash in on the situation by making a donation just for the publicity.

Then today at lunch with the in-laws my father-in-law got very upset with B cos he felt that B is self-centred and not at all concerned about the suffering. It started when he had called B yesterday and asked him what the death toll was. B had replied 25,000 and his father was shocked that he didn’t know that the figure had long exceeded that number. He told B that he was insensitive and had no soul. B shouted back that he didn’t have to know the figure or talk about the Tsunami to prove that he cared. He said that people who do so are fake and that he is not one of them. He said that he refused to be fake by telling people how bad he feels about the situation or about what he is doing about it.

Personally, I don’t think anything human could not be affected by the visuals. Celebs might think about the mileage they are getting, even the best of them may have it at the back of their minds perhaps, but that can’t be the primary or only reason for their donations.

About individuals questioning themselves, asking whether they are being pseudo or are giving/feeling from the heart – for me, this is the most beautiful thing that has come out of the incident.

Hmm – now am I being pseudo? :/

Am Off!

2005-01-07T02:35:00.000-08:00

Am going to Bharatpur for the weekend – yayhoo!! Too excited to write right now...

Hope y'all have a great weekend!

Resolutions / Love Song

2005-01-06T03:42:00.000-08:00

Okay, guess it has to be done, so this year’s “New Year Resolutions”!! Ta dah!

1. Give the cat a better life.

This basically means ignoring and not giving into B’s paranoias. The first that he (the cat) should not be let out cos he will be run over, beaten up by other cats, cut his eye on barbed wire etc. This staying in all the time has made him quite a neurotic little cat so 1st Jan onwards I have let him out amidst shouting and screaming from B. I am happy to report that he has behaved very well and has returned in one piece after a couple of hours on his own. Though he did get us a little dead mousie present yesterday…

The second that I should not clear his (again the cat’s) litter because his doctor uncle told him that the faeces has some germs which get into a woman’s blood stream and then her children are born deformed or some such crap. And of course he gets busy and/or lazy and the litter is not cleaned regularly. So amidst some mild admonitions that he would get around to it soon I have been cleaning it everyday and the cat has been sparing the clean laundry.

2. Not nag B or try to change him.

If things are not the way they should be I shall simply exercise my option to walk right out.

3. Not be hard on myself.

4. Not be hard on myself.

5. Not be hard on myself.
________________________________________________________

Yesterday B sung this song to me when I asked him what he’d done with my pen (to the tune of ‘Everything I do…’:

Look into your ass
And you will see
The pen, you gave to me

Search your ass
Search the hole
(forget these lines, as if it matters!)

Don’t tell me it’s not the same pen
Don’t tell me again and again
You know it’s true
The pen you gave to me
I gave it back to you

Quite crude yes, but I couldn’t stop laffing!

Firing Up 2005

2005-01-03T04:45:00.000-08:00

Yesterday morning at 08:30 the bell rang. I rolled over and decided to ignore it since I’d slept at 4 in the morning but the bell rang insistently so I had to finally get up. I groggily opened the door and the chowkidar said ‘Aap so rahe ho, aap ko pata nahin chal raha yahan aag jal rahi hai’.

Oops!

On the 31st we had a small party on our roof with barbeque and bonfire. After midnight we left to party elsewhere. On the First evening my friend whose barbeque it was came to collect it. They emptied the ashes (which were still hot) on to newspaper (don’t ask), put it in a bag and placed it on top of the wooden shoe cupboard (don’t ask again). I was busy watching ‘Beautiful People’ with my niece, sister and Mom so wasn’t part of the cleaning up. God knows I would have had better sense!

We went out to catch the late night show of ‘Swades’ (go see it! Also DO NOT MISS THE INCREDIBLES!!). Got home at around 3 am and everything was quiet, though in retrospect I remember smelling a burning smell but was too sleepy to focus on it at the time. The ashes must have burnt into the shoe cupboard and the easily burnable rubber and foam of the shoes ensured that nothing was left. Thankfully due to our laziness the shoes that we wear regularly were saved since they were just lying around the house. But all the nice, going out type of shoes are gone – including my silver strappy sandals.

The walls and roof of the staircase are totally black. The doorbell switch plate was melted. I grow cold every time I think of how bad it could have been. The heat would have entered the wire system next and the main door was just half a foot away. Me, my cat and B would have been roasted while we slept. Thankfully someone saw smoke coming out of the staircase window and they came and threw buckets of water and put it out.

The landlord came over to inspect but thankfully wasn’t hard on us.

I spent the first half of the day getting the mess cleaned up, getting a thelawallah to take away the debris and an electrician to put a new switch plate; and the second half fast asleep due to the mental strain.
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Went to see A’s baby yesterday – really tiny and perfectly formed. A used to be one of my closer friends till I felt let down by her. And the typical Capricorn that I am, I never let go of a grudge. Thought I’d make an exception for the newborn though. So I was all grown up and behaved myself and said the right things.
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T called this morning asking if I’ve ever been to a clairvoyant.

She’s been having problems with her in-laws. I don’t much like being the agony aunt in these situations. Was ex-colleague K’s for almost a year till I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s funny cos T’s husband is actually the one who is my friend, I only met T when they started seeing each other and am not that close to her so I wonder why she should choose to confide in me.

I told her not to go to the clairvoyant as what she/he may say will stick in her head and not necessarily make things better. I told her to use the money (a whopping Rs. 2100 for a one hour session) to go to a spa and have a body massage or take pottery classes instead.
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My vacation has been cut short. Got a call from someone I worked with two years ago while I was in Pushkar to do some video work. I really didn’t want to cos I just wanted to do absolutely nothing for a while and then come back with a vengeance. But the money is good so I’m tied down till Jan 15th. Except that I have only worked one day on the project so far cos she has been delaying the script. I hope I get paid immediately so I can go on another mini vacation – wouldn’t mind going alone this time with my books, paints, and notebook.
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…and then nothing but a lone star remained in the sky, like an asterisk leading to an undiscoverable footnote.
- Time and Ebb, Vladimir Nabokov

How beautiful is that!

Pushkar

2004-12-26T23:51:00.000-08:00

I have mixed feelings about Pushkar.

The day we reached I hated it. Lots of Israeli druggies everywhere, shopkeepers trying their broken English on you, people at the ghats trying to fleece you, like a bigger version of Paharganj or Janpath. But after a day you kind of get into the groove. The shopkeepers recognize you and don’t bother to call out to you any more. Thanks to the Israelis you get yummy humus, falafel and pita bread everywhere. Also pancakes and delicious cakes and pies.

In fact, since there isn’t much to do, you start the day at one café, smoke some, eat a big breakfast spread over two or three hours, amble down to the next café, maybe pick up some Chinese pajamas on the way, smoke some more, eat again and so on till it’s dark. At which point you mix drinks in coke bottles and walk by the lake, eat some, smoke some. Very relaxing.

The gang arrived on the 25th and that was fun – lots of inane laughter about nothing at all! We climbed a hill and there was a beautiful view from the top – one side Pushkar town and the lake and the other the start of dunes, children sliding down them. Also went for a camel safari which was great ‘cept that your thighs ache the next day. Mahender and Suresh, the two camel boys scored some awesome maal for us for a hundred and fifty compared to the six hundred which is the standard price.

Despite all the tourists, the local people are extremely innocent. Chatted to a lot of them. How they feel blessed to have been born in holy Pushkar, a few of them have been to cities such as Delhi – how they hated the pollution, noise and aggression. Some of the café owners have even traveled to Europe thanks to the tourist friends that they made – Greece, Germany and of course Israel!

One of our favourite cafes, right by the lake, had a Christmas party on the 24th – they got it a little mixed up with New Year’s though. Thought they had to wait till midnight for some reason. Most people had left by ten, and every time people would get up to leave they would entreat them to stay till 12 when they would cut the huge cake which said ‘Happy Marry X’mas’ – it was really sweet. We were the last to leave at 11.30 – would have stayed till midnight except that the place we were staying was really far. There were some local boys gathered around a bonfire at the party, one of them had a cigarette and there was this major excitement in the air. B and I tried to figure out what the excitement was about – was it a joint perhaps? No, it was just a regular ciggie that they lit after much discussion and passed around like naughty schoolboys – they were about twenty or twenty one years old. It was very endearing.

We stopped overnight in Jaipur on the way to Pushkar which was fun – checked out the city palace and did some shopping – blue shoes for me, pink Jaipuri quilt for Mom. B bought lots of music in Pushkar – you get stuff there that isn’t available in Delhi.

In all, yes, I think I would go back!
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Have been reading Krishnamurti’s Journal. A bit to remember:

Have you ever wondered why human being go wrong, become corrupt, indecent in their behaviour – aggressive, violent and cunning? It’s no good blaming the environment, the culture or the parents. We want to put the responsibility for this degeneration on others or on some happening. Explanations and causes are an easy way out. The ancient Hindus called it karma, what you sowed you reaped. The psychologists put the problem in the lap of the parents. What the so-called religious say is based on their dogma and belief. But the question is still there.

Then there are others, born generous, kind, responsible. They are not changed by the environment or any pressure. They remain the same in spite of all the clamour. Why?

Any explanation is of little significance. All explanations are escapes, avoiding the reality of ‘what is’. This is the only thing that matters. The ‘what is’ can be totally transformed with the energy that is wasted in explanations and in searching out the causes.
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This is something I was trying to post on the 16th but couldn’t so here it is now:

Conversations between my Mom and my Niece

This is the argument my Mom and Niece had this evening:

Don’t wave around your hands while you drink your milk or you’ll spill it.

(Sure enough, the milk spills on to the table.)

It told you not to do that! You silly girl! You’re so stupid! (This may seem a little harsh but my Mom was tired and she had been telling her not to wave her hands about a million times.)

Nani! You said a bad word. You can’t say bad words.

No I didn’t. ‘Stupid’ isn’t a bad word. It just means not intelligent.

But it’s not true cos I am intelligent.

Intelligent people don’t wave around their arms when they’re drinking their milk.

Whoever says it, they are it first.

That’s true in most cases but not in this one.

Yes, it is. It’s always true.

What? Do you see me waving around my cup of chai like this. (Mom does weird routine with arms flailing.)

They both burst into laughter.
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Then later, same evening:

Are you doing your bedtime susu darling?

No, I’m brushing my teeth first.

Oh, I thought I’d let you off brushing your teeth today since it’s so late. (re: the Christmas dance in my last post)

Oh, okay. I’ll just eat the toothpaste then.

!! !! !! :)
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In Pushkar I checked up on the blog world from a cyber café one day and was very saddened to know that two of my favourite bloggers have decided / been forced to quit blogville – kraz and Ani this means you. Also where are you Nitin D?? Ah he’s sitting at a remote café, playing chess with strangers and writing notes in a notebook with a pen – time to put that notebook online pal!

The Morning After

2004-12-20T04:06:00.000-08:00

I had the best time ever last night.

Went to a pub, there were 2 great bands playing, and I don't know what magic was cast. I suddenly found myself dancing and jumping and making everyone else do the same. Went up to a little nerdy guy who was writing and drawing stuff in a little notebook, stuff like 'Fuck the visuals' and other such shit and had a little chat with him. Headbanging with complete strangers. I've never felt so good. Lost myself in the music. Lost myself.

This was me, the usually extremely reticent, shy, self-conscious me.

It was great. It was great that my friends seemed so happy for me. All the smiles. All the hugs. Hmm...life is good. People are beautiful.

I feel, and I know this is very cliched, but I feel like a flower that's been closed for so long, hiding away, shutting it all out. But now slowly opening, testing, and finding to my surprise that it's all good.

Am leaving tomo morning for Pushkar. Driving down with B. Other friends may or may not join us for Christmas eve. It's going to be great.

Come Forth and Show Yourself DAMNIT

2004-12-18T09:57:00.000-08:00

Why is it so difficult to find a person with whom you can connect?

2004-12-17T05:31:00.000-08:00

Me, age one.