All the nostalgia that prompted me to post my earlier two posts was this: I had a school reunion coming up. Read going through scrapbooks, searching for school pics and remembering that boy on the second bench who never used to speak. It was last Saturday (I know, talk about lazy me), but that nostalgic feeling still persists.
Most of us met up after a really long time - some of us hadn't met after the last day of school! What is it about school friends and college friends? Don't you feel more comfortable with your school friends than the college ones? No, ain't talking about more fun and stuff. Or is it just me? I dunno. I think it is to do with the fact that college is more about trying to find yourself, fitting in, mind games, getting ahead. So you make friends accordingly. School is more about studies, joking around, teacher cribbing, playing sports, and having fun in whichever way you feel like. So you make friends whom you actually share fun with and not just time with. And surprisingly, meeting up after so many years hasn't created barriers. If there were any, they flew out of the window the minute you met up.
Oh, on the face of it most of us have changed - people have put on weight, some have lost some pounds, some seem to have discovered the secret to a full head of hair and some the secret to shoot up for a mere four feet to almost six feet. Some have discovered first hand how the stress of everyday robs some of time to catch up with old friends and some of their hair. But mostly we are still the kids who tried to eat our tiffins in class coz we were really hungry! So you meet up with the guy who was friends with everybody in school and is the reason so many people are turning up at the reunion.And the person you really dreaded meeting and when you finally did, you didn't understand why he/she intimidated you so much in school. It is almost like revisiting the kid me and wondering what her daily thoughts and concerns were. So naive, innocent, and such high ideals and dreams!!
I am lucky to not have to go to the school and college reunions alone - my husband accompanies me. We have known each other since fourth standard and its on days like these (reunions) that we realise, yes, we have known each other since forever :) Funnily, shouldn't that make every day nostalgic??!!
Showing posts with label ruminations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ruminations. Show all posts
December 21, 2008
April 25, 2008
Ode to the odious octopus, encountered enroute to bangalore
This is to the anonymous guy who was our (me and hubby) seat-mate on our way to Bangalore. You would think cranky kids, squalling babies and snoring OTH people are a nuisance. Well, try this one out for size. He drove me nuts and I was so so damn bugged that me, ME, wrote a poem about it. Don't kill me once you read it (a couple of lines or the whole thing), coz I was depressed as hell and not too sane.
The Ode to the odious octopus
The silence of the night, dark and velvety, marred by a sigh,
deep and heartfelt, contemplating the end of the journey, that seems
no nearer than when I started. Hurry I say,
Hurry, coz my mind is ready to burst at its seams
I yearn for the blessed quiet, the restraint
that I am trying hard to find and keep
Before I punch, kick- do bodily harm,
to the fucking compulsive clucking creep.
My seat-mate, the ingrate, my fellow-traveler
of this empty endless sky
clucking and chak-ing away these glorious minutes
when peace and quiet should hold sway
of your mind and soul, living in the moment
forgetting about the imminent busy day
But no, every minute punctured by the inevitable cluck (chak)
I take a deep breath when all I want to do is
hurl him into the dark velvety void, the schmuck.
I know that your loved ones are waiting, unlike mine
worrying about the tardiness, of this beastly airline
Or maybe you are late, for an appointment you want to keep
So cluck not, every passing minute, my sore brain cells weep
Can you not sense the hostile stares, the fraying
tempers, that might turn into violence
if you don't stop mich-miching? Come on, are you not aware
that there is more beauty in silence?
Oh you idiot, stop it now, whatever reason you are doing
this for, for its more harm to you than me
Me, I Zen, and I will space out, but pray
what will you, uncouth stranger, gain out of this lunacy?
Your mind is not free to flit about
where you might find peace, beauty. But you continue
to cluck. In this silence, it is as bad as a shout.
I bear you no ill-will, but I hope that some day,
someone will come along - someone with less manners than I -
and that they will do it: give you your due,
and I pray, I pray that that someone will be I.
The Ode to the odious octopus
The silence of the night, dark and velvety, marred by a sigh,
deep and heartfelt, contemplating the end of the journey, that seems
no nearer than when I started. Hurry I say,
Hurry, coz my mind is ready to burst at its seams
I yearn for the blessed quiet, the restraint
that I am trying hard to find and keep
Before I punch, kick- do bodily harm,
to the fucking compulsive clucking creep.
My seat-mate, the ingrate, my fellow-traveler
of this empty endless sky
clucking and chak-ing away these glorious minutes
when peace and quiet should hold sway
of your mind and soul, living in the moment
forgetting about the imminent busy day
But no, every minute punctured by the inevitable cluck (chak)
I take a deep breath when all I want to do is
hurl him into the dark velvety void, the schmuck.
I know that your loved ones are waiting, unlike mine
worrying about the tardiness, of this beastly airline
Or maybe you are late, for an appointment you want to keep
So cluck not, every passing minute, my sore brain cells weep
Can you not sense the hostile stares, the fraying
tempers, that might turn into violence
if you don't stop mich-miching? Come on, are you not aware
that there is more beauty in silence?
Oh you idiot, stop it now, whatever reason you are doing
this for, for its more harm to you than me
Me, I Zen, and I will space out, but pray
what will you, uncouth stranger, gain out of this lunacy?
Your mind is not free to flit about
where you might find peace, beauty. But you continue
to cluck. In this silence, it is as bad as a shout.
I bear you no ill-will, but I hope that some day,
someone will come along - someone with less manners than I -
and that they will do it: give you your due,
and I pray, I pray that that someone will be I.
April 16, 2008
Right to Information
Ok, picture this:
Arrrggghhhhhhhhh.
I mean, there should be a law: upon asking people their pay packets / raise amounts / appraisal rating, they should be fined almost the equal amount. Same goes for people who ask how much money you have invested and stupid questions like 'what is your worth?'. I mean, hello, aren't you satisfied that TV channels/newspapers/financial websites spend so many man-hours calculating and re-calculating Mukesh Ambani and company's net worth every time the sensex dips or rises? And especially those people who would want to TELL you their weight and how they reduced it. Please, if I wanted to know, I would ask you, or trick you onto a weighing machine or (more likely) kill myself over my uneventful life.
Btw, on meeting someone, why can't you just say how nice they look and stop at that, instead of exclaiming over how much weight has been lost/gained [either leads to weight reduction/gain methods and advice and such other crap]. Don't you hate it when I people ask "Still single?" or "Found someone yet?". Ya right, like the first thing anyone would do is yell about it from the rooftops. Or maybe they ask coz, whatever the answer, they have advice to give.
So, if you want to be in my good books then read on. Also included in my list of strict no-way-you-are-going-to-get-a-straight-answer questions and no-no topics are:
It is funny how, in India, we bindass comment on things like weight [extremely rude to westerners] and personal financial details whereas we baulk while discussing religion or politics [both of which are topics for open debate in the west]. Years of poking our noses in others' business, you say? Nosey heritage? Well, carry your nosing to a place where I am not around.
- Post-appraisal, a colleague at the coffee machine suddenly tells you about his appraisal status/increment/promotion, asks you yours and has you squirming in the midst of what was inane coffee-time talk.
- Walking around in the i-finally-lost-the-Diwali-5-kilos haze, you bump into a friend/anyone, and drop down to the hard earth when she goes into the ooh-you-havn't-changed-a-bit monologue.
- Aunt/distant female relative asking conspiratorially, when are you going to give us good news?
Arrrggghhhhhhhhh.
I mean, there should be a law: upon asking people their pay packets / raise amounts / appraisal rating, they should be fined almost the equal amount. Same goes for people who ask how much money you have invested and stupid questions like 'what is your worth?'. I mean, hello, aren't you satisfied that TV channels/newspapers/financial websites spend so many man-hours calculating and re-calculating Mukesh Ambani and company's net worth every time the sensex dips or rises? And especially those people who would want to TELL you their weight and how they reduced it. Please, if I wanted to know, I would ask you, or trick you onto a weighing machine or (more likely) kill myself over my uneventful life.
Btw, on meeting someone, why can't you just say how nice they look and stop at that, instead of exclaiming over how much weight has been lost/gained [either leads to weight reduction/gain methods and advice and such other crap]. Don't you hate it when I people ask "Still single?" or "Found someone yet?". Ya right, like the first thing anyone would do is yell about it from the rooftops. Or maybe they ask coz, whatever the answer, they have advice to give.
So, if you want to be in my good books then read on. Also included in my list of strict no-way-you-are-going-to-get-a-straight-answer questions and no-no topics are:
- Info about your health with details that make me want to ask if the thing you are suffering from is, hopefully, life-threatening
- Family/spouse tussles and inter-familial info
- Inane topics like is love marriage better than arranged
- Family planning [yours or mine]
- My career plans [unless you are taking my interview]
It is funny how, in India, we bindass comment on things like weight [extremely rude to westerners] and personal financial details whereas we baulk while discussing religion or politics [both of which are topics for open debate in the west]. Years of poking our noses in others' business, you say? Nosey heritage? Well, carry your nosing to a place where I am not around.
April 8, 2008
FYI
Know that feeling when you are on the verge of getting those perfect nails and then one of them chips off? Why oh why, only one of them? Two would give me as much grief as one, but double the motivation to trim off the others. But one??? After three days of mourning, still haven't found the heart to clip off the others. You know those people (read rickshaw-walas) who have a really long/overgrown thumbnail? The one that they sometimes paint? Well, I can do the opposite right? Keep one of the nails clipped short and the others long? Sad vain lazy bitch, you say? All this ado about a chipped off nail? How much can it matter to a ex-nail-biter? More than it can to non-ex-nail-biters. How is this all FYI? Umm, now THAT part I don't know.
March 7, 2008
Rude-mentary Truths
Raise a toast to Shahrukh and Saif Ali Khan! Or should maybe you should boo or yell at them. Or show your appreciation of their antics by throwing your drink at them. You know, in their style. I don't know. But their brand of brash, snide and intensely rude 'jokes' it seems are here to stay. Their 'act' at the Filmfare awards was... Seriously, I don't have words. Tons of my friends loved it. 'Wtf, Priyanka, it was a laugh riot. Great entertainment.' Of course it was. Who wouldn't like to see their fave stars being knocked down a peg or two and having a snigger at their expense? No sense of humor I have, do you say? I bow before your superior sense of humor.
Have a bundle of unpalatable truths that you want to trumpet to the world? Take a page from these two stars' books and forget the graceful/gracious act [come on, Priyanka, you don't like the Simi-Garewal-esque style of hosting either] and make crude jokes about it. The ruder you get, the better. Or else how would the audience digest the truth if not laugh at people? And while you are at it, please do forget the age of the people whom you are making fun of. The catch: you can only do it if you have the clout. You have to be a Shahrukh Khan of Bollywood to sling mud [hey, it's only a joke, I know!] at your peers and at people who have been in Bollywood for eons. You have to be powerful enough that the people cannot afford to mind your swipes at them, their dressing sense, whom they invite to their weddings or whose weddings they choose to attend. But do remember to keep the please-don't-mind smile pasted and after every 5 min do apologise profusely and profess that its all done in good humor. If only it was done with equally good grace!
I guess the crass behaviour is often, though not only, brought on by being high on power at that point in time. Or else which 4-foot-nothing guy would throw official papers unglanced at 2 beefy guys and a gal all of whom have almost 2 feet advantage over him? A government employee, or a babu, who else. Had gone to get my marriage registered. Again. This time, went to see the big guy in the cabin.
What is the rudimentary truth in this? That power does corrupt and how!
The following is what transpired - over the whole sweltering day. [The following are the babu's dialogs]
These documents won't work. Read the list posted outside and bring only those documents.
You have? Okay. [Still not glancing at the papers though the only reason we are in his cube is so he can stamp them saying the docs are ok]. What have you attached as address proofs?
Is the electricity/telephone bill in your name? No, your father's won't do.[Now which frigging twenty-something in India will have a landline/electricity bill in his/her name?] Have to get the ration card. It doesn't have your name on it? Too bad. How about your election card? No, the only election cards we accept have to be from this state. Then make an affidavit and come back in 2 days and then we will see. No, a passport won't do. Even if you had submitted these very documents back then. Nope, no can do.
How did you get the ration card so soon? Scanned and sent from Mumbai? No. Will need the original as well.
You have the address proofs. No, we can't go ahead. What have you attached as proof of date of birth? No, your birth-certificate won't do. I know its on the list, but the place you were born has to be in my jurisdiction, only then can I accept it.
What about your witnesses? Their address proofs have to be in their name not their father's or spouse's.
[5:00 in the evening. Half an hour to closing time]
We need 5 xeroxes of this application and 3 more photos.
Where the devil are the witnesses? What do you mean, they will be here in 5 min? Why do they need tea right now? Don't you see that this work is of paramount importance? Do you think I am sitting here for fun?
[At this point, my head explodes thanks to the fatalistic irony and maniacal laughter that has been consuming me. The rest is all darkness.]
Epilogue: Have a hand-written piece of flimsy paper saying we married. The first person to invite to your wedding (right after God Almighty) should be one of these babus. So you don't have to vegetate in front of their desks for 4 days before you get your marriage legalised. Have suggested a new essay topic to mum (who is a teacher) - A day at the government office. Or should I make it a week?
Have a bundle of unpalatable truths that you want to trumpet to the world? Take a page from these two stars' books and forget the graceful/gracious act [come on, Priyanka, you don't like the Simi-Garewal-esque style of hosting either] and make crude jokes about it. The ruder you get, the better. Or else how would the audience digest the truth if not laugh at people? And while you are at it, please do forget the age of the people whom you are making fun of. The catch: you can only do it if you have the clout. You have to be a Shahrukh Khan of Bollywood to sling mud [hey, it's only a joke, I know!] at your peers and at people who have been in Bollywood for eons. You have to be powerful enough that the people cannot afford to mind your swipes at them, their dressing sense, whom they invite to their weddings or whose weddings they choose to attend. But do remember to keep the please-don't-mind smile pasted and after every 5 min do apologise profusely and profess that its all done in good humor. If only it was done with equally good grace!
I guess the crass behaviour is often, though not only, brought on by being high on power at that point in time. Or else which 4-foot-nothing guy would throw official papers unglanced at 2 beefy guys and a gal all of whom have almost 2 feet advantage over him? A government employee, or a babu, who else. Had gone to get my marriage registered. Again. This time, went to see the big guy in the cabin.
What is the rudimentary truth in this? That power does corrupt and how!
The following is what transpired - over the whole sweltering day. [The following are the babu's dialogs]
These documents won't work. Read the list posted outside and bring only those documents.
You have? Okay. [Still not glancing at the papers though the only reason we are in his cube is so he can stamp them saying the docs are ok]. What have you attached as address proofs?
Is the electricity/telephone bill in your name? No, your father's won't do.[Now which frigging twenty-something in India will have a landline/electricity bill in his/her name?] Have to get the ration card. It doesn't have your name on it? Too bad. How about your election card? No, the only election cards we accept have to be from this state. Then make an affidavit and come back in 2 days and then we will see. No, a passport won't do. Even if you had submitted these very documents back then. Nope, no can do.
How did you get the ration card so soon? Scanned and sent from Mumbai? No. Will need the original as well.
You have the address proofs. No, we can't go ahead. What have you attached as proof of date of birth? No, your birth-certificate won't do. I know its on the list, but the place you were born has to be in my jurisdiction, only then can I accept it.
What about your witnesses? Their address proofs have to be in their name not their father's or spouse's.
[5:00 in the evening. Half an hour to closing time]
We need 5 xeroxes of this application and 3 more photos.
Where the devil are the witnesses? What do you mean, they will be here in 5 min? Why do they need tea right now? Don't you see that this work is of paramount importance? Do you think I am sitting here for fun?
[At this point, my head explodes thanks to the fatalistic irony and maniacal laughter that has been consuming me. The rest is all darkness.]
Epilogue: Have a hand-written piece of flimsy paper saying we married. The first person to invite to your wedding (right after God Almighty) should be one of these babus. So you don't have to vegetate in front of their desks for 4 days before you get your marriage legalised. Have suggested a new essay topic to mum (who is a teacher) - A day at the government office. Or should I make it a week?
February 25, 2008
Over the weekend
I love weekends and I love when almost every shop you pass has a sale on. My sis has come to Mumbai from Bangalore for a well-deserved break/holiday and we ended up doing some of the stuff that we both love- talk, shop and bicker.
Its funny, the way your relationship changes with your siblings once you grow older (this is in no way to be construed that I consider myself grown-up). The bickering has somehow stuck (and I like that) but the understanding and acceptance that has come in is welcome. So, my model-esque sister (who is blissfully unaware of her beauty) is currently in seventh-heaven as she has landed her dream job. She has always been the rebel in the family - the one who refused to follow the norm or fit in the mold. The mold being, of course me. Had decided long back that if (IF not when) I have more than two kids, I would never ever say, look at your bro/sis. Spoils their friendship, their us-kids-against-the-crazy-adults pact and starts a game of oneupmanship that I don't think ever ends. Thankfully, me being the utter conformist and she being the utter rebel the comparisons didn't stick for long and we became friends in college. Also we found common interests/hobbies!! Don't know how that happened.
Anyway, one thing is for sure. Am going to call up my kid sis whenever I need some pick-me-ups. She will still think, sincerely, that I look awesome even when I am bloated, have a bad hair day and a bad skin year. Love is blind. But isn't it nice to discover friends in places you least expected?
Sis in town means a lot of shopping or at least window shopping. But come on, who are we kidding when almost the whole city is sporting sale signs? So, between ourselves managed to spend a few thousands and I managed to achieve my to-buy list. For next month. And part of the month after. Now if that is just awesome I don't know what is.
Had gone to Candies on St. Andrews Road this time. And I was so amazed to find the quiet nooks, spacious seating and greenery in the middle of Mumbai that have decided to make it my recover-from-shopping-spree place. No matter where I am shopping. Plus all the sugary and baked goods call to me from kilometers away. Here is my review.
Am exhausted coz of the weekend. Not because of the shopping, come on! Have been avoiding/dodging/diverting and sometimes physically dragging away hubby away from movies which are nominated for an Oscar statuette. I mean, come on, most of the movies that are awarded these awards as a consolation prize coz no one watched them in the first place. Oh, ok. That is my line with hubby. But come on, who would want to drown the shopping euphoria in a tragic movie that crawls along at snail's pace? Certainly not moi. Save them for days when you either can't get any other movie or feel nothing is right with your world and pop those movies in and watch how it could be crappier. Yup, that's what these Oscar movies are for.
Speaking of awards, have decided to present the best shopping buddy award to ... no not my sis... my husband. Not only is he enthusiastic during the long process of selection, he is actually interested, doesn't walk out of the store to wait for me outside, lugs around all my shopping bags without a word and most importantly, has an eye for beauty and fashion. And then asks me when if I want to buy anything else. A gem!!
Its funny, the way your relationship changes with your siblings once you grow older (this is in no way to be construed that I consider myself grown-up). The bickering has somehow stuck (and I like that) but the understanding and acceptance that has come in is welcome. So, my model-esque sister (who is blissfully unaware of her beauty) is currently in seventh-heaven as she has landed her dream job. She has always been the rebel in the family - the one who refused to follow the norm or fit in the mold. The mold being, of course me. Had decided long back that if (IF not when) I have more than two kids, I would never ever say, look at your bro/sis. Spoils their friendship, their us-kids-against-the-crazy-adults pact and starts a game of oneupmanship that I don't think ever ends. Thankfully, me being the utter conformist and she being the utter rebel the comparisons didn't stick for long and we became friends in college. Also we found common interests/hobbies!! Don't know how that happened.
Anyway, one thing is for sure. Am going to call up my kid sis whenever I need some pick-me-ups. She will still think, sincerely, that I look awesome even when I am bloated, have a bad hair day and a bad skin year. Love is blind. But isn't it nice to discover friends in places you least expected?
Sis in town means a lot of shopping or at least window shopping. But come on, who are we kidding when almost the whole city is sporting sale signs? So, between ourselves managed to spend a few thousands and I managed to achieve my to-buy list. For next month. And part of the month after. Now if that is just awesome I don't know what is.
Had gone to Candies on St. Andrews Road this time. And I was so amazed to find the quiet nooks, spacious seating and greenery in the middle of Mumbai that have decided to make it my recover-from-shopping-spree place. No matter where I am shopping. Plus all the sugary and baked goods call to me from kilometers away. Here is my review.
Am exhausted coz of the weekend. Not because of the shopping, come on! Have been avoiding/dodging/diverting and sometimes physically dragging away hubby away from movies which are nominated for an Oscar statuette. I mean, come on, most of the movies that are awarded these awards as a consolation prize coz no one watched them in the first place. Oh, ok. That is my line with hubby. But come on, who would want to drown the shopping euphoria in a tragic movie that crawls along at snail's pace? Certainly not moi. Save them for days when you either can't get any other movie or feel nothing is right with your world and pop those movies in and watch how it could be crappier. Yup, that's what these Oscar movies are for.
Speaking of awards, have decided to present the best shopping buddy award to ... no not my sis... my husband. Not only is he enthusiastic during the long process of selection, he is actually interested, doesn't walk out of the store to wait for me outside, lugs around all my shopping bags without a word and most importantly, has an eye for beauty and fashion. And then asks me when if I want to buy anything else. A gem!!
February 11, 2008
The Year That Was
Answered these questions innumerable times since morning. So please, find the answers below before calling me and asking me same ones.
Q:One year!! How does it feel?
A:I am a year older and am married. So, now I am not only old, but married and old. Feels great!!
Q:Do you think you have changed?
A:Well, duh, its been a year. Everyone changes in a year's span of time. Wedding or no wedding.
Q:Soooooooo, whats the special thing he/you did?
A:He gave me 12 roses, one each for every month we have been married. After waking me up at 12 in the morning. Yes, midnight. I didn't punch or kill him. That is special and new enough for both of us.
Q:So, how was the year?
A:Crappy. I have had better.
Q:So, what are you doing to celebrate?
A:Oh, you mean in the Oh-thank-god-we-got-thorugh-a-whole-year kinda celebration??
Ok ok. No grandiose plans. Have been celebrating and partying the whole year. Feel kinda guilty now.
If your question wasn't in any of these, do read on...
Both hubby and I discovered that apparently people attach a huuuge milestone-kinda thing to this day. Something to celebrate. Celebrate? What? Its-been-an-year-less-from-the-life-sentence kind of thing?? I don't get it. Take a holiday and go somewhere? I am afraid me and hubby are more of a spontaneous gift-givers and celebrators than occasion-waiting ones. Why celebrate when the whole year we have been celebrating?
A year. A whole year. Doesn't seem like it. Shouldn't I feel elated/ecstatic/wistful on this momentous occasion?? I don't know. Seems like just another day in the amazingly long time that me and hubby have been together.
So, how was this year? A year-end review is in the offing, methinks. It has been different, yes. But its the same guy I knew since school. Oh yeah, the boy is now my ex-boyfriend and now-husband. But other than that, superficially and intrinsically, almost everything is the same. Year was full of milestones achieved, dreams realized, plans executed and some biting the dust. And full of the firsts. Our wedding (duh!), my first 4-course dinner from scratch for people (not just the two of us), my baking successes (and the one disaster), our first white-water rafting experience, first of several 'married' fights, our flat.
Accomplished what I had promised myself or bet people. I started cooking and actually enjoying it. Won my bet with, oh, lotsa people when I didn't bawl at our wedding. (or shed a tear. Seriously, my mom was ashamed to find a radiantly smiling bride at the 'bidaai') Neither before nor later. I think my mother-in-law was a bit teary-eyed, though. Dark portends?? ;) Have I changed, you ask? Umm. For the good and bad, yes I have. And so has he.
Been a memorable year,in more ways than the married angle. Met the zaniest bunch of people, started my blog (been in my to-do list since like eons), started investing and managing money, cut down on spending sprees(marginally, but hey, an achievement is an achievement), relaxed for a solid 4 months and started more introspection than ever before.
Of course, the bad side of it - I actually have a piece of furniture in my house of solid-wood thanks to my heart that is sucker for the whole 'puppy dog eyed' routine of hubby's, have read less this year than ever, haven't donated to charity this year, oh the list is a bit longer than I thought. All in all, the most eventful year till date. One, that I am never going to forget.
Q:One year!! How does it feel?
A:I am a year older and am married. So, now I am not only old, but married and old. Feels great!!
Q:Do you think you have changed?
A:Well, duh, its been a year. Everyone changes in a year's span of time. Wedding or no wedding.
Q:Soooooooo, whats the special thing he/you did?
A:He gave me 12 roses, one each for every month we have been married. After waking me up at 12 in the morning. Yes, midnight. I didn't punch or kill him. That is special and new enough for both of us.
Q:So, how was the year?
A:Crappy. I have had better.
Q:So, what are you doing to celebrate?
A:Oh, you mean in the Oh-thank-god-we-got-thorugh-a-whole-year kinda celebration??
Ok ok. No grandiose plans. Have been celebrating and partying the whole year. Feel kinda guilty now.
If your question wasn't in any of these, do read on...
Both hubby and I discovered that apparently people attach a huuuge milestone-kinda thing to this day. Something to celebrate. Celebrate? What? Its-been-an-year-less-from-the-life-sentence kind of thing?? I don't get it. Take a holiday and go somewhere? I am afraid me and hubby are more of a spontaneous gift-givers and celebrators than occasion-waiting ones. Why celebrate when the whole year we have been celebrating?
A year. A whole year. Doesn't seem like it. Shouldn't I feel elated/ecstatic/wistful on this momentous occasion?? I don't know. Seems like just another day in the amazingly long time that me and hubby have been together.
So, how was this year? A year-end review is in the offing, methinks. It has been different, yes. But its the same guy I knew since school. Oh yeah, the boy is now my ex-boyfriend and now-husband. But other than that, superficially and intrinsically, almost everything is the same. Year was full of milestones achieved, dreams realized, plans executed and some biting the dust. And full of the firsts. Our wedding (duh!), my first 4-course dinner from scratch for people (not just the two of us), my baking successes (and the one disaster), our first white-water rafting experience, first of several 'married' fights, our flat.
Accomplished what I had promised myself or bet people. I started cooking and actually enjoying it. Won my bet with, oh, lotsa people when I didn't bawl at our wedding. (or shed a tear. Seriously, my mom was ashamed to find a radiantly smiling bride at the 'bidaai') Neither before nor later. I think my mother-in-law was a bit teary-eyed, though. Dark portends?? ;) Have I changed, you ask? Umm. For the good and bad, yes I have. And so has he.
Been a memorable year,in more ways than the married angle. Met the zaniest bunch of people, started my blog (been in my to-do list since like eons), started investing and managing money, cut down on spending sprees(marginally, but hey, an achievement is an achievement), relaxed for a solid 4 months and started more introspection than ever before.
Of course, the bad side of it - I actually have a piece of furniture in my house of solid-wood thanks to my heart that is sucker for the whole 'puppy dog eyed' routine of hubby's, have read less this year than ever, haven't donated to charity this year, oh the list is a bit longer than I thought. All in all, the most eventful year till date. One, that I am never going to forget.
January 11, 2008
Back to work
Have now gotten off my lazy ass and now am sitting on a plush chair, in a one person cubicle, with a thin LCD monitor and enough leg room to be comfortable enough to doze. Yup, for me this is as good as it gets. Plus, as the water cooler is a few cubicles away, I get enough traffic to keep me awake.
I love getting up in the morning and dressing up for work and then sitting at a computer, clicking and typing away to glory ;)
And, now I get lots of stuff to ruminate and maybe write about [he he]. All the colleagues, downright weird to downright interesting (sometimes both), all the people I bump into (literally and figuratively) on my way to work. But that later, when I gain more fodder to write on. I am going to present to you a much more interesting subject: me. Yup, ah, me, myself.
Picture this, here I am, very happy to get back to work, get money in hand, do something other than watch TV all day (like watch the monitor all day), shop with the aforementioned money in hand, feel like I am doing something worthwhile, and wear formal togs to office (which, after hanging out at home in pajamas all day seem like heaven, or is it self important?). So, I walk into the office the first day and what do I see? Everyone, every single one of them, in casual to informal clothes (read cotton casual trousers to jeans). On a Monday!! Here I am dressed to the nines in my western formals with a smooth chignon and all in an office where everybody believes Friday dressing is not confined to only Friday!! I actually felt let down!! Me!! Yup, me, who only 4 months back (when I was working) used to wish that the next company I would join wouldn't have a strict formal-wear-only dress code!! Shouldn't I be jumping with joy?? Ah, but see, being a human being, am a creature of habit. And so, I routinely - no, habitually- find the best laid plans and expectations washed away.
Expectations!! Now that is a tricky thing, ain't it? They are time-bound, see, meaning they change with time. What you would loved to have yesterday seems not so great today, and you go like 'oh but yesterday was different'. When, oh when are we going to be ever satisfied and go 'Yay!'?? Soon, you say? I think, never. Or you wouldn't aspire for more, would you? Many people talk about giving up expecting stuff and hence staying away from the certain consequent disappointment. Duh!!! Don't you know that expectations are sweet? I mean, you expect and expect and expect and then you expect some more. Simple. It makes your life interesting. Or else it would be just another day. And there is no such thing as no expectations. I mean, I walk into the office without having ever given a conscious thought to how the interiors will be and I stop short. The scene greeting me makes me gape. And such a reaction is only possible if you had expectations right? Isn't that what makes the beautiful spellbinding and worth a second glance or the ordinary, well the ordinary?? Ya, ya, I know I should stop the abstract and tell you what had me gaping. Well, I saw cubicles. Single seaters. Spacious ones. In Mumbai. In this day and age!! Wow!!! Did it make my heart go pitty-pat?? Yup, you guessed it, I was like - 'oh no, this seems so lonely!! What, you just sit in your cubicle alone typing and clicking your day away?’ Ah, nature!!
Do you want me add on to the list of stuff I am a tad unhappy about? I won't be able bring my iPod or a pen drive into the office. So, it’s a very silent, lonely cubicle for me. Don't you pity poor me?? Well, then instead of sending Symonds or Tata Nano forwards and arguing at the water cooler on what would be a better torture for the Auzzies, keep the comments and mails coming and keep me sane. Or get me an iPhone ;) Till then, am going to keep my eyes taped open and try.
I love getting up in the morning and dressing up for work and then sitting at a computer, clicking and typing away to glory ;)
And, now I get lots of stuff to ruminate and maybe write about [he he]. All the colleagues, downright weird to downright interesting (sometimes both), all the people I bump into (literally and figuratively) on my way to work. But that later, when I gain more fodder to write on. I am going to present to you a much more interesting subject: me. Yup, ah, me, myself.
Picture this, here I am, very happy to get back to work, get money in hand, do something other than watch TV all day (like watch the monitor all day), shop with the aforementioned money in hand, feel like I am doing something worthwhile, and wear formal togs to office (which, after hanging out at home in pajamas all day seem like heaven, or is it self important?). So, I walk into the office the first day and what do I see? Everyone, every single one of them, in casual to informal clothes (read cotton casual trousers to jeans). On a Monday!! Here I am dressed to the nines in my western formals with a smooth chignon and all in an office where everybody believes Friday dressing is not confined to only Friday!! I actually felt let down!! Me!! Yup, me, who only 4 months back (when I was working) used to wish that the next company I would join wouldn't have a strict formal-wear-only dress code!! Shouldn't I be jumping with joy?? Ah, but see, being a human being, am a creature of habit. And so, I routinely - no, habitually- find the best laid plans and expectations washed away.
Expectations!! Now that is a tricky thing, ain't it? They are time-bound, see, meaning they change with time. What you would loved to have yesterday seems not so great today, and you go like 'oh but yesterday was different'. When, oh when are we going to be ever satisfied and go 'Yay!'?? Soon, you say? I think, never. Or you wouldn't aspire for more, would you? Many people talk about giving up expecting stuff and hence staying away from the certain consequent disappointment. Duh!!! Don't you know that expectations are sweet? I mean, you expect and expect and expect and then you expect some more. Simple. It makes your life interesting. Or else it would be just another day. And there is no such thing as no expectations. I mean, I walk into the office without having ever given a conscious thought to how the interiors will be and I stop short. The scene greeting me makes me gape. And such a reaction is only possible if you had expectations right? Isn't that what makes the beautiful spellbinding and worth a second glance or the ordinary, well the ordinary?? Ya, ya, I know I should stop the abstract and tell you what had me gaping. Well, I saw cubicles. Single seaters. Spacious ones. In Mumbai. In this day and age!! Wow!!! Did it make my heart go pitty-pat?? Yup, you guessed it, I was like - 'oh no, this seems so lonely!! What, you just sit in your cubicle alone typing and clicking your day away?’ Ah, nature!!
Do you want me add on to the list of stuff I am a tad unhappy about? I won't be able bring my iPod or a pen drive into the office. So, it’s a very silent, lonely cubicle for me. Don't you pity poor me?? Well, then instead of sending Symonds or Tata Nano forwards and arguing at the water cooler on what would be a better torture for the Auzzies, keep the comments and mails coming and keep me sane. Or get me an iPhone ;) Till then, am going to keep my eyes taped open and try.
January 2, 2008
Help - Domestic and Psychological, both
Its funny how some things just sneak in and become habits right? Or should I say they become a necessity that you can't do without. Case in point, your mobile phone. I mean, till about what, 5-6 years ago, we managed to do without them just fine. Now, the day you forget your mobile at home or lose it, it seems the whole day is ruined. Its an indispensable commodity that you don't remember when you got habituated to and now you can't imagine how you did without it. I recently discovered another habit/necessity that I have come to rely upon. A maid.
Except the last few years, have been relying on a washing machine to do my laundry and when I lived as a paying guest we used to take turns at the chores like scrubbing dishes, mopping the floor and dusting. And in the space of just a year, I find a maid essential!! I mean, I don't know when that happened and how. Now that we are moving to Mumbai, it dawned on me that I will have to find a maid anew!! I have a great maid here who is, well, great and now I have to ditch her and find a new one, hopefully as good.
I realised that it is a big deal for me now on an promisingly perfect day (read great weather for the relaxing day you had planned). You take the first heavenly sip of coffee and in comes a messenger to say that my maid won't be able to make it and has no replacement to offer. Other than planning ways to torture her the next day, it seems like a ruined day.
Am still mad at myself for letting this become such an issue!! I mean, I always termed all those who talked about their maid crisis, over the hill. Does that make me one now? Or is this the uncomfortable, uncanny feeling from walking that maid-less road in someone else's shoes???
Except the last few years, have been relying on a washing machine to do my laundry and when I lived as a paying guest we used to take turns at the chores like scrubbing dishes, mopping the floor and dusting. And in the space of just a year, I find a maid essential!! I mean, I don't know when that happened and how. Now that we are moving to Mumbai, it dawned on me that I will have to find a maid anew!! I have a great maid here who is, well, great and now I have to ditch her and find a new one, hopefully as good.
I realised that it is a big deal for me now on an promisingly perfect day (read great weather for the relaxing day you had planned). You take the first heavenly sip of coffee and in comes a messenger to say that my maid won't be able to make it and has no replacement to offer. Other than planning ways to torture her the next day, it seems like a ruined day.
Am still mad at myself for letting this become such an issue!! I mean, I always termed all those who talked about their maid crisis, over the hill. Does that make me one now? Or is this the uncomfortable, uncanny feeling from walking that maid-less road in someone else's shoes???
December 31, 2007
Movie Review - Taare Zameen Pe
A long overdue review of the movie Taare Zameen Pe. I had heard the amazing reviews before hubby dragged me to the theater. Me, am not a sensitive soul and a senti movie with a message, in my opinion, is something one should watch on DVD and fast forward when the sappy stuff gets too much to digest. But then, am saddled (or should I say, that I have saddled myself) with a guy who loves to watch such movies, on DVD or the silver screen. Ah, well. Shouldn't complain.
Ok, focus, the movie. Great, in one word. The performances are uniformly good and the boy (Darsheel Safary) and Amir Khan exceptional. It is all the reviews say and more. And am sure you have been bombarded with reviews talking of how great the movie is and what the storyline is and what the performances are. So, am going to write about that part very briefly and elaborate on the various messages (other than the 'every child is special' one) that the movie tries to convey.
The movie storyline is a simple one but the execution is great. Amir Khan manages to avoid falling into most of the pits that make Bollywood inspirational movies preachy, repetitive, emotionally-overloaded, corny and tear-fests. Not all, but most. And the result is a movie that tugs at your heartstrings and still manages to get the message across. It is a great story about a dyslexic boy and how his own family is unable to understand him and how salvation arrives in the guise of an art teacher who himself is a dyslexic but has overcome his affliction and sees a bit of himself in the kid. You have a small number of characters the family of the four - mom, dad, two sons, the younger of whom is dyslexic, the teachers who try to teach the boy and Amir Khan(who comes in after the interval). Most of the characters are beautifully etched while others (mostly the teachers) are caricatures. The unconditional love of the mother and her confusion and hurt at being unable to help her son is convincingly emoted by Tisca Chopra. The father who is unable to understand, and more importantly doesn't want to understand, his son who fails almost every subject is the most realistic character in the movie and is, thankfully, devoid of clichéd stereotyping. Plus, the movie stops short of being judgmental. The father, mother and teachers are not shown to be the villains but just plain ignorant. The brother of the Ishaan is a character whom I loved. A straight-A kid who excels at sports, the brother is also shown to be very close to his brother and also defends him and is encouraging of his smallest painting. Amir Khan as the teacher who wears his emotions and tears on his sleeve (or eyes) and is the compassionate savior who strives to makes sure that the kid is accepted by his family as he himself never was, is brilliant. But the best performance and character is that of Ishaan Awasthy. The kid who is unable to understand why he is the way he is and soon becomes ashamed of it is played with admirable aplomb and confidence by Darsheel. The movie, I am sure, required humongous research and enormous effort, as is evinced by the length of the credits at the end of the movie.
The two scenes that I loved in the movie, both in the second half, involve Amir Khan trying to tell the parents what their troubled kid needs. In the sequence where Amir Khan breaks the news to the parents that their kid is dyslexic but a very gifted painter, the father blusters "woh kya fayde ka hai?" ("what is the use of that?"), upon which Amir Khan goes on about the rat race that every kid is put through and the mould that all kids are expected to fit into that I am sure you must have caught in the ads. The reactions of the parents are simply brilliant in this scene. Later in the movie, the father - who thinks he has come to terms with his kid's problem and tries to regain some semblance of stature in the eyes of the teacher - is shaken to the core when Amir Khan very calmly, succinctly with barely restrained derision, rips his beliefs into shreds by telling him in a Marc Anthony-ish way what caring really means. I think that was one scene where we can all take notes. Yes, we all have known the effects and side-effects of the reality of the rat-race that is life today. The movie drives home the point very beautifully that at the same instant we are pushing our kids to prepare them for this life ahead, we too are subscribing - blindly - to the very concept of rat race ourselves, daily. That we forget to question our actions, and our motivations behind them, in our day-to-day life. When we dismiss the craft homework, or the paintings with a smile and a 'very nice' line but spend hours on explaining how important it is to excel and give your 100 percent. Do we think that, maybe if I consider the painting or the craft a part of study and praise it as it should be I would be instilling more confidence in my kid than any number of 24/25 could? No, we subconsciously think of our office hours, and how hard we work and how we wouldn't have been there if our parents in turn hadn't driven us to achieve perfection. How would our kid fare in such a world with not-so-perfect percentages? Are we thinking of their emotional needs? Do we put ourselves in their position and wonder if we would have liked to be told what we are telling them now? Or more importantly, if it really would help them? And, finally, if being perfect is really the be-all and end-all of success and life. The movie asks you at every point, what happens when you aren't perfect? Still trying to find the answer. Was wondering, how I would react if I was in Mrs.Awasthy's situation. Now that I have moved onto the gabby mode, I think that its time I stop before you zap into a catatonic state. The movie wasn't preachy or this stretched out so I shouldn't be either. Will leave you with one last thought (come on, you have made it this far, am sure you can read a couple of lines more). What is lacking in us that we blindly strive for attaining perfection, both in ourselves and our family? What drives us to drive our kids to be perfect? Like Amir Khan says in the movie, if you like to drive someone to become what you want them to, why not breed horses?
Over and out.
Ok, focus, the movie. Great, in one word. The performances are uniformly good and the boy (Darsheel Safary) and Amir Khan exceptional. It is all the reviews say and more. And am sure you have been bombarded with reviews talking of how great the movie is and what the storyline is and what the performances are. So, am going to write about that part very briefly and elaborate on the various messages (other than the 'every child is special' one) that the movie tries to convey.
The movie storyline is a simple one but the execution is great. Amir Khan manages to avoid falling into most of the pits that make Bollywood inspirational movies preachy, repetitive, emotionally-overloaded, corny and tear-fests. Not all, but most. And the result is a movie that tugs at your heartstrings and still manages to get the message across. It is a great story about a dyslexic boy and how his own family is unable to understand him and how salvation arrives in the guise of an art teacher who himself is a dyslexic but has overcome his affliction and sees a bit of himself in the kid. You have a small number of characters the family of the four - mom, dad, two sons, the younger of whom is dyslexic, the teachers who try to teach the boy and Amir Khan(who comes in after the interval). Most of the characters are beautifully etched while others (mostly the teachers) are caricatures. The unconditional love of the mother and her confusion and hurt at being unable to help her son is convincingly emoted by Tisca Chopra. The father who is unable to understand, and more importantly doesn't want to understand, his son who fails almost every subject is the most realistic character in the movie and is, thankfully, devoid of clichéd stereotyping. Plus, the movie stops short of being judgmental. The father, mother and teachers are not shown to be the villains but just plain ignorant. The brother of the Ishaan is a character whom I loved. A straight-A kid who excels at sports, the brother is also shown to be very close to his brother and also defends him and is encouraging of his smallest painting. Amir Khan as the teacher who wears his emotions and tears on his sleeve (or eyes) and is the compassionate savior who strives to makes sure that the kid is accepted by his family as he himself never was, is brilliant. But the best performance and character is that of Ishaan Awasthy. The kid who is unable to understand why he is the way he is and soon becomes ashamed of it is played with admirable aplomb and confidence by Darsheel. The movie, I am sure, required humongous research and enormous effort, as is evinced by the length of the credits at the end of the movie.
The two scenes that I loved in the movie, both in the second half, involve Amir Khan trying to tell the parents what their troubled kid needs. In the sequence where Amir Khan breaks the news to the parents that their kid is dyslexic but a very gifted painter, the father blusters "woh kya fayde ka hai?" ("what is the use of that?"), upon which Amir Khan goes on about the rat race that every kid is put through and the mould that all kids are expected to fit into that I am sure you must have caught in the ads. The reactions of the parents are simply brilliant in this scene. Later in the movie, the father - who thinks he has come to terms with his kid's problem and tries to regain some semblance of stature in the eyes of the teacher - is shaken to the core when Amir Khan very calmly, succinctly with barely restrained derision, rips his beliefs into shreds by telling him in a Marc Anthony-ish way what caring really means. I think that was one scene where we can all take notes. Yes, we all have known the effects and side-effects of the reality of the rat-race that is life today. The movie drives home the point very beautifully that at the same instant we are pushing our kids to prepare them for this life ahead, we too are subscribing - blindly - to the very concept of rat race ourselves, daily. That we forget to question our actions, and our motivations behind them, in our day-to-day life. When we dismiss the craft homework, or the paintings with a smile and a 'very nice' line but spend hours on explaining how important it is to excel and give your 100 percent. Do we think that, maybe if I consider the painting or the craft a part of study and praise it as it should be I would be instilling more confidence in my kid than any number of 24/25 could? No, we subconsciously think of our office hours, and how hard we work and how we wouldn't have been there if our parents in turn hadn't driven us to achieve perfection. How would our kid fare in such a world with not-so-perfect percentages? Are we thinking of their emotional needs? Do we put ourselves in their position and wonder if we would have liked to be told what we are telling them now? Or more importantly, if it really would help them? And, finally, if being perfect is really the be-all and end-all of success and life. The movie asks you at every point, what happens when you aren't perfect? Still trying to find the answer. Was wondering, how I would react if I was in Mrs.Awasthy's situation. Now that I have moved onto the gabby mode, I think that its time I stop before you zap into a catatonic state. The movie wasn't preachy or this stretched out so I shouldn't be either. Will leave you with one last thought (come on, you have made it this far, am sure you can read a couple of lines more). What is lacking in us that we blindly strive for attaining perfection, both in ourselves and our family? What drives us to drive our kids to be perfect? Like Amir Khan says in the movie, if you like to drive someone to become what you want them to, why not breed horses?
Over and out.
December 13, 2007
Shifting pains
What do you do when you are shifting base to a city that you had promised yourself you would never move to? Look at the side benefits, of course. Mango, Aldo, Lokhandwala Market, Morgan, Moshe's, holidays-in-anticipation-of-the-deluge. Yup, am bribing myself (or is it brainwashing?) with a visit to each every month. Moving from Pune to the City of Dreams! Mumbai Ahoy!!
Spent a lot of my summer or winter holidays in Mumbai and my childhood memories include an amazing library near my relatives' place, shopping at Linking Road, scrounging second-hand book shops in CST, wada-pavs near Fountain and of course, the ever present press of humanity. Hazy recollections of the muggy days and the local trains. Its funny, till college never had the mental block against the rush and madness of local trains. Now, the most convinient way to get to work seems tiring; would prefer to sit in an air-conditioned car in chaotic traffic.
The older (more mature?) me found a different Mumbai. I discovered the joys of Lokhandwala market, Phoenix mall, the smaller shops on Hill Road, great restaurants, Atria and Inorbit malls and more second-hand book shops. That last thing never
changed. The one thing I love about Mumbai is the sheer number of these second-hand book shops (that also double up as libraries) and the humongous collection these shops have - I mean, for a small shop round the corner, most of them are pretty
impressively stocked. Couldn't find any libraries like these in a 5 km radius from home in Bangalore.
During my first and only stay in Mumbai, 4 months long, I discovered that I couldn't make the most out of the 'end of season' sales in Mumbai. The city is choc-a-bloc full of actors and models who I think live for these sales. So here I am, after a hard day's work, fighting tooth and nail to reach the stores before closing time and what do I find?? The clothes that I fall in love with are not available in my size!! In Bangalore, my office was in the central business district, which meant that
Commercial Street was only a kilometer away, so was MG Road and Bangalore Central and Garuda mall. Even if I nipped in on the second day of any sale, I could always walk away with whatever I fell in love with - without having to elbow people out of
the way to get to the piece before someone snatched it. Lesson learnt and solution
decided. Keep track of upcoming sales and call in sick on the first day of the sale and shop till I drop (or the plastic maxes out).
So, house hunting right now. Its a terribly tedious thing to do, as my hubby's list of must-have list (you know, what should be round-the-corner) and my list clubbed together make one that makes my compulsive-lister-heart go pitty-pat. Its a long
process: first clubbing the lists, then ranking each entry - which, I must say, is the most time-consuming and fun part of it all - and then finally getting a house that satisfies at least 70% of the requirements. Here's a sample of the list of the
features deemed essential in the vicinity of the house- I am not even going to enumerate the stuff we want in the house. (In order of ranking) Supermarket, gym, proximity to the highway (eastern or western), proximity to office-both his
and mine, covered car parking, multiplex, restaurants, blah blah blah. Easy for you to snigger at, but wait and listen to the words of wisdom. Waiting in a 30 minute queue for parking at a supermarket or a multiplex (every weekend, in our case) is not a situation that engenders hilarity. Gym, well, don't you have enough incentive to cut gym without adding a commute to and fro to it? Restaurants: for the occassional day(s) that I don't feel like going into the kitchen or braving traffic enroute to South Mumbai - even though great food awaits at the end of the ardous journey.
The last time I lived in Mumbai, I was putting up with my uncle who had this amazing flat off Link Road in Andheri and I must say it satisfied every single requirement on the list. Those 3 days in July this year when Mumbai was almost shut down due to
rains, we were having a blast at either of three multiplexes nearby (all on Link Road about 3 min by car and 7 min walk) which, obviously, were empty. Heavenly. Add Mainland China, Little Italy, Kailash Parbat, Red Box, and about a dozen other
restaurants and Nature's basket (a Godrej supermarket) and you have a to-die-for neighbourhood. Lokhandwala market - about 3 kms away. Ecstasy!! Wouldn't it be nice to live there now??? If my thoughtless uncle hadn't pulled up stakes to join his family in Bangalore, I wouldn't have had any qualms moving to Mumbai (Hey, I can be selfish now, am moving to mean Mumbai).
Being a positive, optimistic person, I can say that it can only get better than my last stay there - I arrived in Mumbai in time for the dreaded monsoons and it didn't disappoint any! I guess, it can't get any worse- should I say that or am I jinxing it?
Spent a lot of my summer or winter holidays in Mumbai and my childhood memories include an amazing library near my relatives' place, shopping at Linking Road, scrounging second-hand book shops in CST, wada-pavs near Fountain and of course, the ever present press of humanity. Hazy recollections of the muggy days and the local trains. Its funny, till college never had the mental block against the rush and madness of local trains. Now, the most convinient way to get to work seems tiring; would prefer to sit in an air-conditioned car in chaotic traffic.
The older (more mature?) me found a different Mumbai. I discovered the joys of Lokhandwala market, Phoenix mall, the smaller shops on Hill Road, great restaurants, Atria and Inorbit malls and more second-hand book shops. That last thing never
changed. The one thing I love about Mumbai is the sheer number of these second-hand book shops (that also double up as libraries) and the humongous collection these shops have - I mean, for a small shop round the corner, most of them are pretty
impressively stocked. Couldn't find any libraries like these in a 5 km radius from home in Bangalore.
During my first and only stay in Mumbai, 4 months long, I discovered that I couldn't make the most out of the 'end of season' sales in Mumbai. The city is choc-a-bloc full of actors and models who I think live for these sales. So here I am, after a hard day's work, fighting tooth and nail to reach the stores before closing time and what do I find?? The clothes that I fall in love with are not available in my size!! In Bangalore, my office was in the central business district, which meant that
Commercial Street was only a kilometer away, so was MG Road and Bangalore Central and Garuda mall. Even if I nipped in on the second day of any sale, I could always walk away with whatever I fell in love with - without having to elbow people out of
the way to get to the piece before someone snatched it. Lesson learnt and solution
decided. Keep track of upcoming sales and call in sick on the first day of the sale and shop till I drop (or the plastic maxes out).
So, house hunting right now. Its a terribly tedious thing to do, as my hubby's list of must-have list (you know, what should be round-the-corner) and my list clubbed together make one that makes my compulsive-lister-heart go pitty-pat. Its a long
process: first clubbing the lists, then ranking each entry - which, I must say, is the most time-consuming and fun part of it all - and then finally getting a house that satisfies at least 70% of the requirements. Here's a sample of the list of the
features deemed essential in the vicinity of the house- I am not even going to enumerate the stuff we want in the house. (In order of ranking) Supermarket, gym, proximity to the highway (eastern or western), proximity to office-both his
and mine, covered car parking, multiplex, restaurants, blah blah blah. Easy for you to snigger at, but wait and listen to the words of wisdom. Waiting in a 30 minute queue for parking at a supermarket or a multiplex (every weekend, in our case) is not a situation that engenders hilarity. Gym, well, don't you have enough incentive to cut gym without adding a commute to and fro to it? Restaurants: for the occassional day(s) that I don't feel like going into the kitchen or braving traffic enroute to South Mumbai - even though great food awaits at the end of the ardous journey.
The last time I lived in Mumbai, I was putting up with my uncle who had this amazing flat off Link Road in Andheri and I must say it satisfied every single requirement on the list. Those 3 days in July this year when Mumbai was almost shut down due to
rains, we were having a blast at either of three multiplexes nearby (all on Link Road about 3 min by car and 7 min walk) which, obviously, were empty. Heavenly. Add Mainland China, Little Italy, Kailash Parbat, Red Box, and about a dozen other
restaurants and Nature's basket (a Godrej supermarket) and you have a to-die-for neighbourhood. Lokhandwala market - about 3 kms away. Ecstasy!! Wouldn't it be nice to live there now??? If my thoughtless uncle hadn't pulled up stakes to join his family in Bangalore, I wouldn't have had any qualms moving to Mumbai (Hey, I can be selfish now, am moving to mean Mumbai).
Being a positive, optimistic person, I can say that it can only get better than my last stay there - I arrived in Mumbai in time for the dreaded monsoons and it didn't disappoint any! I guess, it can't get any worse- should I say that or am I jinxing it?
December 10, 2007
Weighty matters
Dekha hai pehli baar, gaadi pe unt savaar...
My first 'fishpond', and it pretty much sums up most my formative years, right till graduation. I was your average gawky gal, all long legs and arms and clumsy and awkward. A bag of skin and bones move gracefully? Scientifically possible? Nah!! Being called 'Lady Amitabh Bachhan' when walking down the street, or nicknames like 'Lambu'? Every girl's dream!! To add to my misery, till 9th standard, I was one of the tallest students in my class - the only guys who outstrapped me had a good 2-3 years' headstart on all of us.
It was a nightmare for my grandmother. 'Thin', 'scrawny' granddaughters?! Sacrilege!! So, my granny declared war. But none of her efforts- read shoving rich food down my throat- however, payed off. Actually they made matters worse for me, coz it started the phase of ghee-soaked dosas, chappatis and rich sweets. At that point of time, the subtle laws of nutrition escaped me, and I downed pretty much anything that was termed 'fattening'. But to no avail. My granny took it as a personal insult that her granddaughters looked like they were starved or deprived. So, the binge eating continued.
Then something wonderful happened. Degree college. Suddenly, I was popular, and the girls were envious of my weight - or the lack thereof. Overnight, the bane of my life, became my identity in college. I mean, I was the tall, 'slim' girl. 'Slim' !!
Finally!! 'Slim', not 'thin'. It was a shock. For almost an year, I didn't know what hit me. The two things I had been ashamed of since I was a kid, the things because of which I was teased mercilessly, and was one of the 'back-benchers' - those two things were now gaining me approval. My slouch slowly disappeared. Girls were coming up to me and asking how I kept myself 'in shape' and wanted diet tips. Diet tips?! From me? Well, the then-naive me, obviously told them the truth. But come on, who wants to hear about five-dosa-breakfasts and anything-goes diet when all they are hoping for is the miraculous, easy way to lose weight? What followed were tales of martyrdom, and monologues whose gist was that I had it easy. Some even went as far as calling me ungrateful and telling me how I 'lucky' was. At that point, I thought, well here are some of the gals whom I have envied and what were they doing: they were jealous of me!! Talk about a weird, screwed-up world. In all fairness, I guess most of what they said was in a haze brought on by low blood sugar caused, no doubt, by starvation diets and food-hallucinating minds. In retrospect, I should have ignored the comments, but then, that is the beauty of retrospect.
Anyway, confused at the new-found approval, I went through a phase in which I actually lost weight. I couldn't find a single soul who even wanted to understand that I was on the same situation as them - weight was the problem. But for them, I was the enemy!! Bitching about the fact that she is thin!! Imagine!! Who is she kidding?? She just wants to make us feel bad!!
Anyway, the whole weighty-thing required time to digest and adjust. I decided that all this obsessing with weight was a never-ending journey and really pointless. I started reading up on nutrition and moderated my food intake. Oh, some vices remain, like chocolate in any form, pastries, ice cream. Yum!! But I neither watch my weight nor diet. I wouldn't give anything to put on weight. I don't mind how I look, in fact, I love it.
The problem, I think, lies in our mind and not our bodies. I call it the 'obsessive perfection disorder'. And it goes to both extremes, shedding and putting on weight. In the race towards looking perfect. The adage of the grass being greener on the
other side, I think, comes into play every day into almost everything. I have finally made peace with my 'problem' and am satisfied with how I look but I wouldn't mind any change either; weightier or otherwise. For me, more weight or less, I
couldn't be more perfect.
My first 'fishpond', and it pretty much sums up most my formative years, right till graduation. I was your average gawky gal, all long legs and arms and clumsy and awkward. A bag of skin and bones move gracefully? Scientifically possible? Nah!! Being called 'Lady Amitabh Bachhan' when walking down the street, or nicknames like 'Lambu'? Every girl's dream!! To add to my misery, till 9th standard, I was one of the tallest students in my class - the only guys who outstrapped me had a good 2-3 years' headstart on all of us.
It was a nightmare for my grandmother. 'Thin', 'scrawny' granddaughters?! Sacrilege!! So, my granny declared war. But none of her efforts- read shoving rich food down my throat- however, payed off. Actually they made matters worse for me, coz it started the phase of ghee-soaked dosas, chappatis and rich sweets. At that point of time, the subtle laws of nutrition escaped me, and I downed pretty much anything that was termed 'fattening'. But to no avail. My granny took it as a personal insult that her granddaughters looked like they were starved or deprived. So, the binge eating continued.
Then something wonderful happened. Degree college. Suddenly, I was popular, and the girls were envious of my weight - or the lack thereof. Overnight, the bane of my life, became my identity in college. I mean, I was the tall, 'slim' girl. 'Slim' !!
Finally!! 'Slim', not 'thin'. It was a shock. For almost an year, I didn't know what hit me. The two things I had been ashamed of since I was a kid, the things because of which I was teased mercilessly, and was one of the 'back-benchers' - those two things were now gaining me approval. My slouch slowly disappeared. Girls were coming up to me and asking how I kept myself 'in shape' and wanted diet tips. Diet tips?! From me? Well, the then-naive me, obviously told them the truth. But come on, who wants to hear about five-dosa-breakfasts and anything-goes diet when all they are hoping for is the miraculous, easy way to lose weight? What followed were tales of martyrdom, and monologues whose gist was that I had it easy. Some even went as far as calling me ungrateful and telling me how I 'lucky' was. At that point, I thought, well here are some of the gals whom I have envied and what were they doing: they were jealous of me!! Talk about a weird, screwed-up world. In all fairness, I guess most of what they said was in a haze brought on by low blood sugar caused, no doubt, by starvation diets and food-hallucinating minds. In retrospect, I should have ignored the comments, but then, that is the beauty of retrospect.
Anyway, confused at the new-found approval, I went through a phase in which I actually lost weight. I couldn't find a single soul who even wanted to understand that I was on the same situation as them - weight was the problem. But for them, I was the enemy!! Bitching about the fact that she is thin!! Imagine!! Who is she kidding?? She just wants to make us feel bad!!
Anyway, the whole weighty-thing required time to digest and adjust. I decided that all this obsessing with weight was a never-ending journey and really pointless. I started reading up on nutrition and moderated my food intake. Oh, some vices remain, like chocolate in any form, pastries, ice cream. Yum!! But I neither watch my weight nor diet. I wouldn't give anything to put on weight. I don't mind how I look, in fact, I love it.
The problem, I think, lies in our mind and not our bodies. I call it the 'obsessive perfection disorder'. And it goes to both extremes, shedding and putting on weight. In the race towards looking perfect. The adage of the grass being greener on the
other side, I think, comes into play every day into almost everything. I have finally made peace with my 'problem' and am satisfied with how I look but I wouldn't mind any change either; weightier or otherwise. For me, more weight or less, I
couldn't be more perfect.
December 1, 2007
Of good samaritans
Two issues to write and ruminate about. Went to watch the movie Aaja Nachle last night. Had been eagerly waiting to watch it.
Lotsa big banner movies are being made these days. Going the Hollywood way, what with SLB getting together with Sony Pictures for Saawariya and Yash Raj and Walt Disney coming up with Roadside Romeo, it looks like the audience is going to be bombarded with one mega-movie after another. The Diwali releases were certainly not worth the hype, wait or the watch. Saawariya was an 'art' film promoted as a commercial one and enjoyed only by the 'enlightened' few. Om Shanti Om was SRK on adrenaline made only for die-hard hedonistic SRK fans with no storyline or music. Hindi movies are now being promoted - and more importantly, watched - not for the story or anything, but for such things as amazing art design, 40+ year old superstar's new-found six-packs, 'it-has-close-to-5-F1-scenes', '31 movie stars in one movie', some star couple breaking up, blah blah blah. The audience used to use these excuses to watch movies but nowadays entire movies are promoted as the last movie in which two stars were a couple before they split up. I mean, come on! Yup, I watched both of them, unfortunately, what with being saddled with a hubby who considers it his moral responsibility to contribute in making sure every movie released, at least, breaks even. Ok, got sidetracked, more on these two movies and the craziness surrounding it in another post. It deserves its own post :)
Ok, so watched Madhuri sashay back into every body's hearts yesterday. Call me illogical, but this was the movie I was waiting for this 'festive season'. ('Festive season' as the trade pundits put it; as if watching movies is an integral part of any festive season or is it that as it is festive season, read bakshish season, we should consider tipping the movie industry by watching a movie as a bakshish??)
Concentrate, concentrate. Okay, Madhuri. Well, since I was a kid, I used to secretly love her for her vivacious smile and graceful dance moves - she could, and can still, dance Indian classical, fusion and western dance forms with equal aplomb and grace. I actually idolised her coz she was one of the few Indian actors ever who could carry off Indian and western looks, characters and act convincingly without any trademark simpering mannerisms.
Overall, the movie didn't leave behind a 'wow' feeling. But it wasn't bad either. Logical (which is saying a lot in Hindi film industry), great music, amazing choreography, great acting and endearing characters. I guess, one of the reasons it left me a tad cold was because I couldn't identify with any of the characters - on any level whatsoever. And the story of the town's favorite gossip-fodder turning into the good samaritan (yup, Madhuri does the good thing by rescuing a defunct dance theatre from demolition and thus manages to save the town from death by boredom) was a bit far-fetched. I am guessing this movie will be more appreciated in the smaller towns than by the multiplex crowd.
The performances are superb though. The ensemble cast of Konkana Sen Sharma, Irfan Khan, Raghuveer Yadav, Vinay Pathak, Kunal Kapoor do their job and how! But the belle of the ball truly is Madhuri. She emotes, smiles, dances her way into your heart and wows you throughout the movie. A must watch for all Madhuri fans and dance lovers as well. I heard someone saying that 'she is looking her age'. Methinks, if any woman could have Madhuri's figure, her skin, her joie de vivre and her dancing grace, she wouldn't mind a couple of comments about her age.
Our good samaritan: Our house sits on a major road which is currently being spruced up into a concrete eight-laner. Traffic jams are routine since work started about 10 months ago. Yesterday evening though, we were caught in the worst of it - when we were leaving to catch the movie, and were already late, and were the ones who had the tickets for our friends too. Didn't get past our housing complex main gate. Had to ditch the car and try and hail a rick, which considering that there was a traffic jam on the other side, there was a paucity of. A Maruti pulled alongside and asked if we wanted to hitch a ride. I was struck dumb. Seriously, was I hallucinating or was this an angel? When I was a kid, someone gave me the first three installments of the Chicken Soup for the Soul franchise and I was touched and had started saying and leaving I-love-you notes for my mom and sis. But to actually offer other people - nah, strangers- help? Especially when they don't ask it? Novelty! Oh, letting someone overtake me or easing up on the horn coz the guy up ahead is your grandfather's age is one thing, but this!! There we were in his car talking away and the 'i know's and 'exactly's were flying around. Icing on the cake, the guy was a treat to talk to for the next 10 minutes! When in the middle of the ride he found out that we were on our way to a movie, he took a 1km detour to drop us off at the theatre. A self-confessed movie buff and (from his talk) has an eclectic taste in books, Gautam catapulted me back to the Chicken-soup-for-the-soul-naive years. We decided that we liked the novel feeling and were getting pretty jaded if we considered the whole incident 'weird'. Plus, the sappy smiles and the surprised look he caused were infectious too. We have decided to pass the smile along, two or maybe three times over. So, yes, the next time when someone in front of you pays for your car parking ticket, just pass the smile along.
Lotsa big banner movies are being made these days. Going the Hollywood way, what with SLB getting together with Sony Pictures for Saawariya and Yash Raj and Walt Disney coming up with Roadside Romeo, it looks like the audience is going to be bombarded with one mega-movie after another. The Diwali releases were certainly not worth the hype, wait or the watch. Saawariya was an 'art' film promoted as a commercial one and enjoyed only by the 'enlightened' few. Om Shanti Om was SRK on adrenaline made only for die-hard hedonistic SRK fans with no storyline or music. Hindi movies are now being promoted - and more importantly, watched - not for the story or anything, but for such things as amazing art design, 40+ year old superstar's new-found six-packs, 'it-has-close-to-5-F1-scenes', '31 movie stars in one movie', some star couple breaking up, blah blah blah. The audience used to use these excuses to watch movies but nowadays entire movies are promoted as the last movie in which two stars were a couple before they split up. I mean, come on! Yup, I watched both of them, unfortunately, what with being saddled with a hubby who considers it his moral responsibility to contribute in making sure every movie released, at least, breaks even. Ok, got sidetracked, more on these two movies and the craziness surrounding it in another post. It deserves its own post :)
Ok, so watched Madhuri sashay back into every body's hearts yesterday. Call me illogical, but this was the movie I was waiting for this 'festive season'. ('Festive season' as the trade pundits put it; as if watching movies is an integral part of any festive season or is it that as it is festive season, read bakshish season, we should consider tipping the movie industry by watching a movie as a bakshish??)
Concentrate, concentrate. Okay, Madhuri. Well, since I was a kid, I used to secretly love her for her vivacious smile and graceful dance moves - she could, and can still, dance Indian classical, fusion and western dance forms with equal aplomb and grace. I actually idolised her coz she was one of the few Indian actors ever who could carry off Indian and western looks, characters and act convincingly without any trademark simpering mannerisms.
Overall, the movie didn't leave behind a 'wow' feeling. But it wasn't bad either. Logical (which is saying a lot in Hindi film industry), great music, amazing choreography, great acting and endearing characters. I guess, one of the reasons it left me a tad cold was because I couldn't identify with any of the characters - on any level whatsoever. And the story of the town's favorite gossip-fodder turning into the good samaritan (yup, Madhuri does the good thing by rescuing a defunct dance theatre from demolition and thus manages to save the town from death by boredom) was a bit far-fetched. I am guessing this movie will be more appreciated in the smaller towns than by the multiplex crowd.
The performances are superb though. The ensemble cast of Konkana Sen Sharma, Irfan Khan, Raghuveer Yadav, Vinay Pathak, Kunal Kapoor do their job and how! But the belle of the ball truly is Madhuri. She emotes, smiles, dances her way into your heart and wows you throughout the movie. A must watch for all Madhuri fans and dance lovers as well. I heard someone saying that 'she is looking her age'. Methinks, if any woman could have Madhuri's figure, her skin, her joie de vivre and her dancing grace, she wouldn't mind a couple of comments about her age.
Our good samaritan: Our house sits on a major road which is currently being spruced up into a concrete eight-laner. Traffic jams are routine since work started about 10 months ago. Yesterday evening though, we were caught in the worst of it - when we were leaving to catch the movie, and were already late, and were the ones who had the tickets for our friends too. Didn't get past our housing complex main gate. Had to ditch the car and try and hail a rick, which considering that there was a traffic jam on the other side, there was a paucity of. A Maruti pulled alongside and asked if we wanted to hitch a ride. I was struck dumb. Seriously, was I hallucinating or was this an angel? When I was a kid, someone gave me the first three installments of the Chicken Soup for the Soul franchise and I was touched and had started saying and leaving I-love-you notes for my mom and sis. But to actually offer other people - nah, strangers- help? Especially when they don't ask it? Novelty! Oh, letting someone overtake me or easing up on the horn coz the guy up ahead is your grandfather's age is one thing, but this!! There we were in his car talking away and the 'i know's and 'exactly's were flying around. Icing on the cake, the guy was a treat to talk to for the next 10 minutes! When in the middle of the ride he found out that we were on our way to a movie, he took a 1km detour to drop us off at the theatre. A self-confessed movie buff and (from his talk) has an eclectic taste in books, Gautam catapulted me back to the Chicken-soup-for-the-soul-naive years. We decided that we liked the novel feeling and were getting pretty jaded if we considered the whole incident 'weird'. Plus, the sappy smiles and the surprised look he caused were infectious too. We have decided to pass the smile along, two or maybe three times over. So, yes, the next time when someone in front of you pays for your car parking ticket, just pass the smile along.
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