I know what kind of man i want: The kind who knows anything and everything about Income tax, saving tax, investment options and anything that even remotely falls under the category (excluding discussions on my shopping expenses).
I'm getting screwed over tax right now, not so much because i'm juggling funds but because i'm so clueless about everything to do with it. The only thing i do know is how the words 'Income' and 'Tax' are spelled.
So there you are, bachelor CAs and Admin people of the world... i'm ready for the swayamvara. Just as long as you're okay with being quizzed on your knowledge of taxations and stuff while the 'ladki dekhna' is happening.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Friday, January 25, 2008
Question:
Tell me, do all those men who in their younger days hunger for neighbour's nubile daughters, friends' middle-school kids, their own teenage nieces and sundry other young ones, grow up to be men who abuse their own daughters?
(And please, it's just a question. No need to work it backwards and draw conclusions about my own childhood. I haven't been through such a traumatising experience ever.)
(And please, it's just a question. No need to work it backwards and draw conclusions about my own childhood. I haven't been through such a traumatising experience ever.)
Thursday, January 24, 2008
I can do this, i can do this, i can d... *BUMP!*
I drove today! From home to office! For the first time! It was fabulous! I'm super excited and completely charged up!
I miscalculated and skimmed the surface of an auto bumper in front of the KF office though... But that's okay! I survived all through the rest of the journey! And like, manouvered the car from behind a broken-down bus and didn't slide down on the sloping Queens Road! I mean, how fabulous is that??? For a scaredy-cat like me???
Phew. All that excitement's making me tired now. Love you Red. I'm proud of that first little paint-removing scratch from me. I hope you are too.
I miscalculated and skimmed the surface of an auto bumper in front of the KF office though... But that's okay! I survived all through the rest of the journey! And like, manouvered the car from behind a broken-down bus and didn't slide down on the sloping Queens Road! I mean, how fabulous is that??? For a scaredy-cat like me???
Phew. All that excitement's making me tired now. Love you Red. I'm proud of that first little paint-removing scratch from me. I hope you are too.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
25 years none the wiser - a picture post.
L to R:
20.01.08 - "'25 years none the wiser' - A one-woman act (after she gets high). At Kosmo, Cunningham Road, 8 p.m onwards."
The Wait - doing crackpot photography to kill time.
9:00 p.m - "Okay, i'm tired of scribbling. Where the hell are these guys?!?"
Sorry - They come finally, and i'm relieved. People love me, after all.
L to R:
Conspiracy - 12:30 a.m, at G & S's place.
L to R:
Conspiracy - 12:30 a.m, at G & S's place.
Surprise! - And so i cut my 25th budday cake amidst much laughter and sloshedness.
L to R:
21.01.08 - Ayurvedagram, the venue of my first massage in 25 years.
Amphibian boat - This is what peace looks like.
Expectant - Post-warnings from A that i should let the masseurs do whatever they want with my limpid body, i sit waiting for my one hour of bliss.
Unwinding - Spending time with myself was a good idea. I dug into the food, with the rustling coconut trees and a sunny afternoon for company.
L to R:
Happy Budday again! - Got back from Ayurvedagram, slept for a couple of hours and woke up bleary-eyed to cut another cake. This time, with family.
Dead meat - Dinner with parents, and then back home.
Mmmm. Happy Birthday NT.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Revelations.
Role models don't always stay role models. One day, they must forfeit the pedestal because you don't see them as magical any more.
People make excuses for things they don't WANT to do. They agree reluctantly when they're party to compromise.
Marriages are acts. Of convenience.
People who don't deserve good things are the ones who end up getting them.
Just when you think you've seen it all, you're shaken out of your passivity and shown something even more devastating.
Whatever it is, it isn't worth the pain.
When you think nothing can give you hope, there's always faith.
I don't care if God is a man or a woman.
Those who live and die by morals, are those who have never acquired any form of wealth. (P.S: Society was probably built by this species.)
People make excuses for things they don't WANT to do. They agree reluctantly when they're party to compromise.
Marriages are acts. Of convenience.
People who don't deserve good things are the ones who end up getting them.
Just when you think you've seen it all, you're shaken out of your passivity and shown something even more devastating.
Whatever it is, it isn't worth the pain.
When you think nothing can give you hope, there's always faith.
I don't care if God is a man or a woman.
Those who live and die by morals, are those who have never acquired any form of wealth. (P.S: Society was probably built by this species.)
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
My Silver Jubilee Wish List.
I turn 25 in... 5 days. That's plenty years away from being young and five years away from being 30. Somehow, that makes me feel good. 'Grown up', maybe.
My wish list hasn't changed drastically, only the prioritising. So, i wish for:
1. Inner happiness. For now and forever.
2. Stronger will power.
3. A month (or more) away from humanity.
4. Peace of mind.
5. A man who isn't emotionally spineless.
6. Learning to play the drums or a violin.
7. A penthouse. The kinds you live in, not read.
8. Money to do all i wish, and to be able to do things for people i love.
9. The 13-series books of Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events.
It's a mix of things i need and things i want. There is, perhaps, a subtle difference between the two words, but it's present nevertheless.
So here's looking forward to D-Day. Or should i say, B-Day?
My wish list hasn't changed drastically, only the prioritising. So, i wish for:
1. Inner happiness. For now and forever.
2. Stronger will power.
3. A month (or more) away from humanity.
4. Peace of mind.
5. A man who isn't emotionally spineless.
6. Learning to play the drums or a violin.
7. A penthouse. The kinds you live in, not read.
8. Money to do all i wish, and to be able to do things for people i love.
9. The 13-series books of Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events.
It's a mix of things i need and things i want. There is, perhaps, a subtle difference between the two words, but it's present nevertheless.
So here's looking forward to D-Day. Or should i say, B-Day?
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
*Choke* *Cough Cough* *Sputter*
Can't breathe... too tight... need fresh air...
Decided to wear... a Chanderi cotton saree... this morning... *Puff Puff* *Wheeze*... thought i could... fit into... the...blouse...
Didn't realise i'd put on a few.... extra kilos... *Phew* since then... managed to fit... into it though... *Half-breaths*...
The Victorian Era... *Tug*... must have been hell for the... *Pheeeeew* women trying to fit into those godd... darn it... goddarn corsets, their bust... all crushed into... *Yelp!* a single blob of flesh...
Help... i think i... i need CPR... somebody... anybody... can't b...b...breathe...
(*POPPP!*)
Oh oh.
I think my expanding diaphragm just lost me a blouse button.
Decided to wear... a Chanderi cotton saree... this morning... *Puff Puff* *Wheeze*... thought i could... fit into... the...blouse...
Didn't realise i'd put on a few.... extra kilos... *Phew* since then... managed to fit... into it though... *Half-breaths*...
The Victorian Era... *Tug*... must have been hell for the... *Pheeeeew* women trying to fit into those godd... darn it... goddarn corsets, their bust... all crushed into... *Yelp!* a single blob of flesh...
Help... i think i... i need CPR... somebody... anybody... can't b...b...breathe...
(*POPPP!*)
Oh oh.
I think my expanding diaphragm just lost me a blouse button.
Friday, January 04, 2008
Before-After.
A day before we turned three we died, you and i. It was an unnatural phenomenon, but one that was in the making for a while. Words were your problem, patterns mine.
Can we go back to being friends, you said, the way we were before. We did better than that. We became strangers.
It's been awfully cold this past week. Yesterday, as the soft blankets passed on their body's warmth to mine, i realised the cold wasn't outside.
It was within.
Can we go back to being friends, you said, the way we were before. We did better than that. We became strangers.
It's been awfully cold this past week. Yesterday, as the soft blankets passed on their body's warmth to mine, i realised the cold wasn't outside.
It was within.
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
Happy happy!
New Year's eve is a little overrated. And it took me 24 years, 11 months and 12 days to figure this out.
December 31, 2007. My first proper New Year out of home. (Not withstanding the night i spent at PK's some six years back, gorging on pizzas and playing the role of couch potatoes to perfection.)
Obviously, i had to make it big. And memorable. So i bought my first dress. Evening wear, cocktail party kind of dress.
G, S and i went to Brand Factory on the 30th in the hope of finding something for myself, and shopping for S's new wardrobe. (Miracle of miracles, for once i knew exactly what i wanted.)
That place sure does something for one's wallet, what with superb offers and oh-so-irresistible discounts. While G and i floundered all over the place finding everything but dresses, S spotted some and i headed to the trial room to see what they would do to boost my self-esteem.
They were AND dresses; stylish, chic and elegant. And the right length too. But not the right size. Some fit me too tight in the bust and some had to be peeled off me with G's help. So we decided to head to the AND retail store after Brand Factory. Unfortunately for us, by the time we were through tripping on the discounts and offers, it was quite late and i had a rendezvous with mom to go to Safina Plaza. The dress would have to wait.
December 31st dawned bright and quite early. But without an answer to where AND Store was located. That day, G and i were women with a mission. With warpaint on (read make-up), dressed to roam and armed with plenty moolah, we started off with western wear stores closest to home. The first store we went to was... closed. Not a good start at all.
Chemistry, Wills Lifestyle, KFC, Jealous 21, Blush - we tried them all. (Uh, well, KFC was for food to get my deflated ego up and running again.) I didn't find any clothes that fit me well. WL was shit-expensive. Chemistry had a nice dress, but the neckline started where my belly button ended.
Very, very depressed i was. That made G doubly patient with me, and generous - she suggested we go to Commercial Street; i was likely to find something nice there.
So it was that we took an auto and were on our way to Commercial Street, when we passed Lido Mall and decided, on impulse, to get off there.
Our first stop was Guess, where i tried on a couple of black satin tops. What i liked wasn't available in my size, what i didn't like was. I tried on one that made my bustline overflow (like it doesn't already), and walked up to G doing a Voulez Vous number. G was flabbergasted, and just about wishing to God that she was blind. Or anywhere but there.
Next we went to Next - another pesudo place with nothing stylish in my size. Misery, misery, misery. 109 degree F. Found some very pretty dresses that fit me (!), but i wasn't too keen on any because they were not something i was looking for. We were three hours down into the shopping spree already. And still empty-handed. I tried getting in touch with everybody i could to find out where the AND store could possibly be so i could just go there and pick up stuff, but no such luck. G and i took the elevator to head to Pantaloons - a brand i completely adore because they have good stuff in my size.
As the elevator drew close to our destination, the other stores were revealed like a curtain lifting off the screen of a movie theatre. I saw an 'A' emerge from behind the railing, then an 'N', followed by a 'D'. I was stunned. AND. An AND store. The only AND store in Bangalore. And i happened to stumble upon it.
Thank God for passing UKG classes where they teach you how to spell stuff.
If anybody can hop (like a kangaroo on ecstacy) on an elevator without getting a foot pulled into a disappearing stair, it's me. I have never felt such happiness in a really, really long time. Genuine happiness.
I zoomed into the AND store, and tried on every Size 16 they had available. Short-listed two: a black number, with a boat neck and sequin embroidery in white, and a zig zag just-below-the-knee number with a cream shrug. Hmm, tough. The zig zag one it would be.
That night, my excitement was only heightened by the clothes i was wearing. And i looked, if i may say so myself, positively yummy.
What a great way to begin a new year!
December 31, 2007. My first proper New Year out of home. (Not withstanding the night i spent at PK's some six years back, gorging on pizzas and playing the role of couch potatoes to perfection.)
Obviously, i had to make it big. And memorable. So i bought my first dress. Evening wear, cocktail party kind of dress.
G, S and i went to Brand Factory on the 30th in the hope of finding something for myself, and shopping for S's new wardrobe. (Miracle of miracles, for once i knew exactly what i wanted.)
That place sure does something for one's wallet, what with superb offers and oh-so-irresistible discounts. While G and i floundered all over the place finding everything but dresses, S spotted some and i headed to the trial room to see what they would do to boost my self-esteem.
They were AND dresses; stylish, chic and elegant. And the right length too. But not the right size. Some fit me too tight in the bust and some had to be peeled off me with G's help. So we decided to head to the AND retail store after Brand Factory. Unfortunately for us, by the time we were through tripping on the discounts and offers, it was quite late and i had a rendezvous with mom to go to Safina Plaza. The dress would have to wait.
December 31st dawned bright and quite early. But without an answer to where AND Store was located. That day, G and i were women with a mission. With warpaint on (read make-up), dressed to roam and armed with plenty moolah, we started off with western wear stores closest to home. The first store we went to was... closed. Not a good start at all.
Chemistry, Wills Lifestyle, KFC, Jealous 21, Blush - we tried them all. (Uh, well, KFC was for food to get my deflated ego up and running again.) I didn't find any clothes that fit me well. WL was shit-expensive. Chemistry had a nice dress, but the neckline started where my belly button ended.
Very, very depressed i was. That made G doubly patient with me, and generous - she suggested we go to Commercial Street; i was likely to find something nice there.
So it was that we took an auto and were on our way to Commercial Street, when we passed Lido Mall and decided, on impulse, to get off there.
Our first stop was Guess, where i tried on a couple of black satin tops. What i liked wasn't available in my size, what i didn't like was. I tried on one that made my bustline overflow (like it doesn't already), and walked up to G doing a Voulez Vous number. G was flabbergasted, and just about wishing to God that she was blind. Or anywhere but there.
Next we went to Next - another pesudo place with nothing stylish in my size. Misery, misery, misery. 109 degree F. Found some very pretty dresses that fit me (!), but i wasn't too keen on any because they were not something i was looking for. We were three hours down into the shopping spree already. And still empty-handed. I tried getting in touch with everybody i could to find out where the AND store could possibly be so i could just go there and pick up stuff, but no such luck. G and i took the elevator to head to Pantaloons - a brand i completely adore because they have good stuff in my size.
As the elevator drew close to our destination, the other stores were revealed like a curtain lifting off the screen of a movie theatre. I saw an 'A' emerge from behind the railing, then an 'N', followed by a 'D'. I was stunned. AND. An AND store. The only AND store in Bangalore. And i happened to stumble upon it.
Thank God for passing UKG classes where they teach you how to spell stuff.
If anybody can hop (like a kangaroo on ecstacy) on an elevator without getting a foot pulled into a disappearing stair, it's me. I have never felt such happiness in a really, really long time. Genuine happiness.
I zoomed into the AND store, and tried on every Size 16 they had available. Short-listed two: a black number, with a boat neck and sequin embroidery in white, and a zig zag just-below-the-knee number with a cream shrug. Hmm, tough. The zig zag one it would be.
That night, my excitement was only heightened by the clothes i was wearing. And i looked, if i may say so myself, positively yummy.
What a great way to begin a new year!
Friday, December 28, 2007
Unlucky in love.
So it is with plenty of fear and stereotyped, cliched misgivings that i count the days to my 25th birthday. Obviously, i begin to worry (putting it mildly) about not having a steady relationship. But it's not just that. There are thoughts that keep flitting in and out of my head, leaving me all confused at the end of the day. And with plenty of conclusions. Here are some:
- Men i've had a relationship with so far, have all been spineless. Except for one. (That's still not a good ratio, considering the total number of men i have 'seen' is 3.)
- They've either been two-timing, divorced or just unavailable. Or disinterested.
- There was a point when i cribbed about these warped relationship statuses, but now i'm comfortable because settling down is a scary concept to me. Maybe because i'm used to compromise.
- It takes several wrong men to get that one right guy. (I'm still number 1312343748 in the waiting list though.)
- I'm tired of not being pampered in a relationship.
- I'm tired of being an ogress in my last one.
- I'm tired of being happy with what i get, no matter how little it is.
- I'm just so...tired.
- I don't like being informed about being set up with someone, and then being set up. When that happens, i scoot like a hamster with its genitals on fire.
- I don't like being the one who gives and gives and gives.
- I think i've wished so much and so hard to stay single, that God finally agreed to give me my wish. Only, i don't want it to be true any more. Sigh. The irony.
- I have to let go. And i can't.
- As a child, i never dreamt of my Prince Charming. Maybe that's the problem, i grew up too soon.
- Gymming and dance class keeps my mind off all this crap.
- This world is so, so, so short of decent men.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
I'm so bored,...
My mouth's constantly open because i'm yawning.
I'm sticking my nose close to the CPU's fan so dirt can get in my nose and i can spend time getting it out.
I have finished two bottles of water from morning so i can spend time in the loo.
"Hmm" is the only response to anything anybody says to me.
I alternate between sitting up straight in my chair and skulking.
I could conduct a long conversation with a colleague i don't particularly like.
I've exhausted 80% of tests on Tickle.
I'm misspellling words while typing so i can hit Backspace and retype them again.
I feel like throwing up. Just for the heck of it.
Bleagh.
I could bore a hole 200 feet deep in the earth.
I'm sticking my nose close to the CPU's fan so dirt can get in my nose and i can spend time getting it out.
I have finished two bottles of water from morning so i can spend time in the loo.
"Hmm" is the only response to anything anybody says to me.
I alternate between sitting up straight in my chair and skulking.
I could conduct a long conversation with a colleague i don't particularly like.
I've exhausted 80% of tests on Tickle.
I'm misspellling words while typing so i can hit Backspace and retype them again.
I feel like throwing up. Just for the heck of it.
Bleagh.
I could bore a hole 200 feet deep in the earth.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
How not going to the gym shot up my endorphin levels.
Shitty day at work. Siiiigh.
*Beep*
Message from N: Jazz at 7 today at Allians?
Reply: Sounds like a plan, but my gymming will go for a toss. (Sad smiley)
N: It's 7-9.
Reply: Oh fish. When's the latest i can let you know by?
N: I'll be there only. Come when you want to.
Reply: (Sad smiley) Okay.
N: Now what? (Or something to that effect.)
Reply: You don't care if i come or not. My heart's broken. Sniffle. (Sad, sad smiley face)
N: !(#(&$+&^$&^***!@(*@*!#
Reply: Okay, okay, i'll let you know.
5: 45 p.m
Should i , shouldn't i, should i, shouldn't i...
CS woman to my boss (while shooting dirty looks to me): Oh wow, these are great lines, fabulous, aswesome, wonderful, oh wow, oh wow, i thought you'd forgotten, oh wow, oh wow wow wow wow...
Dear God. I need something to soothe my nerves. Jazz it is.
6:15 p.m
Me over phone: "Byaatch! I changed my mind, i'm coming over to your office and we can go to Allians from there."
N: "Oh. Okay."
7:30 p.m
Me to N: "Will you please hurry up with your work??????"
N: "Ya, ya. Let's go. Oh, wait! We have to go pick up foreign man (M) from mall! He's an American, won't know roads and all."
Me: "Woman, i know GWB is president and thereby all Americans dumb, but i'm sure he can understand simple instructions of walking ahead and taking the first right!!!!"
N: "Yaaaa, but he's American, he'll get lost."
Me: "Whatever."
N: "Oh, and R is also coming, so i'll ask him to pick up the passes."
Me: "How many more people haven't you told me are coming?????"
7:45 p.m
The Brown Indian Band or some such thing playing. Hmm. Not bad. But this isn't jazz, this is fusion!
8:15 p.m
"Okay, let's get out of here. NOW."
8:30 p.m, Millers 46 Steak House.
N: "Should we order the chicken wings? It's got winga sauce."
R: "It might be too much to order, the steak portions are quite big too."
M: "I want to have the cheese fries. I'm really curious about what cheese fries here mean."
Me: "Maybe we should try the Millers Mixed Platter."
R: "It might be too much to order, the steak portions are quite big too."
Me: "Ya, but i'm sure we'll manage between us."
N: "You want to share main course?"
Me: "Okay."
N: "What do you want to eat?"
Me: "You decide. If i don't like it, we'll change course."
Me: "So, are we going for the Millers Mixed Platter?"
R: "It might be too much to order, the steak portions are quite big too."
Me: "Excuse me, oneMillers Mixed Platter please."
Cheese fries arrive.
N and I: "Excuse me, could you please cancel the Millers Mixed Platter please?"
R: "I told you we'd be ordering too much."
Five Haywards stouts and two Bloody Mary's later...
N: jaw hitting the ground making weird dying-goldfish faces.
Me: "What? What?"
N: dying-goldfish, still.
Me, looking around: "Oh. Oh. Oooooh. Aooooooo!"
N: "Yeah, even R.P.Singh's quite cute man."
Me: "Who's the woman next to Robin Uthappa?"
N: "Must be girlfriend."
R: "Hey, if you're going to take a picture, i want to be in it."
Me, to N: "Dhoni saved you woman."
N (Two stouts down): "Huh? Oh, oh yeah! I'll make choking noises and he'll come save me!" Me: "Uh...no. I was talking about Dhoni saving you from getting beaten up for making me miss gym and dragging me to a fuckoll, pseudo-Jazz thingie."
N: "Oh. Uh."
Me: "Yeah."
*Beep*
Message from N: Jazz at 7 today at Allians?
Reply: Sounds like a plan, but my gymming will go for a toss. (Sad smiley)
N: It's 7-9.
Reply: Oh fish. When's the latest i can let you know by?
N: I'll be there only. Come when you want to.
Reply: (Sad smiley) Okay.
N: Now what? (Or something to that effect.)
Reply: You don't care if i come or not. My heart's broken. Sniffle. (Sad, sad smiley face)
N: !(#(&$+&^$&^***!@(*@*!#
Reply: Okay, okay, i'll let you know.
5: 45 p.m
Should i , shouldn't i, should i, shouldn't i...
CS woman to my boss (while shooting dirty looks to me): Oh wow, these are great lines, fabulous, aswesome, wonderful, oh wow, oh wow, i thought you'd forgotten, oh wow, oh wow wow wow wow...
Dear God. I need something to soothe my nerves. Jazz it is.
6:15 p.m
Me over phone: "Byaatch! I changed my mind, i'm coming over to your office and we can go to Allians from there."
N: "Oh. Okay."
7:30 p.m
Me to N: "Will you please hurry up with your work??????"
N: "Ya, ya. Let's go. Oh, wait! We have to go pick up foreign man (M) from mall! He's an American, won't know roads and all."
Me: "Woman, i know GWB is president and thereby all Americans dumb, but i'm sure he can understand simple instructions of walking ahead and taking the first right!!!!"
N: "Yaaaa, but he's American, he'll get lost."
Me: "Whatever."
N: "Oh, and R is also coming, so i'll ask him to pick up the passes."
Me: "How many more people haven't you told me are coming?????"
7:45 p.m
The Brown Indian Band or some such thing playing. Hmm. Not bad. But this isn't jazz, this is fusion!
8:15 p.m
"Okay, let's get out of here. NOW."
8:30 p.m, Millers 46 Steak House.
N: "Should we order the chicken wings? It's got winga sauce."
R: "It might be too much to order, the steak portions are quite big too."
M: "I want to have the cheese fries. I'm really curious about what cheese fries here mean."
Me: "Maybe we should try the Millers Mixed Platter."
R: "It might be too much to order, the steak portions are quite big too."
Me: "Ya, but i'm sure we'll manage between us."
N: "You want to share main course?"
Me: "Okay."
N: "What do you want to eat?"
Me: "You decide. If i don't like it, we'll change course."
Me: "So, are we going for the Millers Mixed Platter?"
R: "It might be too much to order, the steak portions are quite big too."
Me: "Excuse me, oneMillers Mixed Platter please."
Cheese fries arrive.
N and I: "Excuse me, could you please cancel the Millers Mixed Platter please?"
R: "I told you we'd be ordering too much."
Five Haywards stouts and two Bloody Mary's later...
N: jaw hitting the ground making weird dying-goldfish faces.
Me: "What? What?"
N: dying-goldfish, still.
Me, looking around: "Oh. Oh. Oooooh. Aooooooo!"
N: "Yeah, even R.P.Singh's quite cute man."
Me: "Who's the woman next to Robin Uthappa?"
N: "Must be girlfriend."
R: "Hey, if you're going to take a picture, i want to be in it."
Me, to N: "Dhoni saved you woman."
N (Two stouts down): "Huh? Oh, oh yeah! I'll make choking noises and he'll come save me!" Me: "Uh...no. I was talking about Dhoni saving you from getting beaten up for making me miss gym and dragging me to a fuckoll, pseudo-Jazz thingie."
N: "Oh. Uh."
Me: "Yeah."
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Life. Explained through...
English.
What i judge most men by. Superficial, but i discovered to my chagrin that it's true. Oh, and i forgot to mention other checks - like whether they're wearing socks or have long eye lashes (no, i'm not gauging length).
Hindi.
B***** ke, M****c***, B***c***, L****, Maaki...
Kannada.
Gets you around among the middle and lower strata like money does in the upper one.
Physics.
Gravity. The reason why fat accumulates so (motioning towards the anatomical section) on my hips. The lard that can't slide down below the hip mark gets deposited in layers till it reaches the top-most level, nicknamed 'The Pamela Anderson Stage'.
Chemistry.
It takes a touch to set off fireworks. Not to mention alarms ringing in your head.
Mathematics.
2000 + 350 would be...umm... yep, it would be just about enough money to spend in one shopping day.
Biology.
"Mmm. Nice ass that man's got."
OR if you had to get all hair-splitting, then:
Botany.
Why the fuck hasn't anybody sent me flowers till now??? I mean, i'm a passably nice person.
Zoology.
Eeeeew, Mister Automan, tuck Junior away and pay attention to the road instead.
Social Studies.
The broken marriages around me.
OR if you had to get all hair-splitting here too:
Civics.
Mob Rule - why R and B and C got hit by autowallahs while trying to protect P.
Economics.
The priciness of autowallahs pampered by North Indians who've infiltrated Bangalore through software MNCs, and who find everything to be cheaper than their goddarn cities, so are willing to shell out as much as anybody wants. Hmph.
Geography.
All that's left is right, all that's right has left.
What i judge most men by. Superficial, but i discovered to my chagrin that it's true. Oh, and i forgot to mention other checks - like whether they're wearing socks or have long eye lashes (no, i'm not gauging length).
Hindi.
B***** ke, M****c***, B***c***, L****, Maaki...
Kannada.
Gets you around among the middle and lower strata like money does in the upper one.
Physics.
Gravity. The reason why fat accumulates so (motioning towards the anatomical section) on my hips. The lard that can't slide down below the hip mark gets deposited in layers till it reaches the top-most level, nicknamed 'The Pamela Anderson Stage'.
Chemistry.
It takes a touch to set off fireworks. Not to mention alarms ringing in your head.
Mathematics.
2000 + 350 would be...umm... yep, it would be just about enough money to spend in one shopping day.
Biology.
"Mmm. Nice ass that man's got."
OR if you had to get all hair-splitting, then:
Botany.
Why the fuck hasn't anybody sent me flowers till now??? I mean, i'm a passably nice person.
Zoology.
Eeeeew, Mister Automan, tuck Junior away and pay attention to the road instead.
Social Studies.
The broken marriages around me.
OR if you had to get all hair-splitting here too:
Civics.
Mob Rule - why R and B and C got hit by autowallahs while trying to protect P.
Economics.
The priciness of autowallahs pampered by North Indians who've infiltrated Bangalore through software MNCs, and who find everything to be cheaper than their goddarn cities, so are willing to shell out as much as anybody wants. Hmph.
Geography.
All that's left is right, all that's right has left.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Bheemeshwari? Hey Eeeshwar!
So it's supposed to be a nice place and all that. And it is. But nobody warned us that Bheemeshwari was Cauvery Fishing Camp. Like idiots, we went searching for the latter. And to be able to go to CFC, you need bookings. Or pay a whopping 850 per head.
Yeah well, anyway, we had a good time. It's like they say, any place is nice when you have friends with you. And it was fabulous to drive on the highway on 5th gear at over 80. Sort of a treat for two-month old Red, who's completely tired of city traffic and crawling the roads at 40 max. Not to forget the chip sandwiches and Shuklaji's tree-climbings. So i'm happy.
Photos: http://www.flickr.com/photos/7610705@N04/2064266713/in/set-72157601860250751/
Yeah well, anyway, we had a good time. It's like they say, any place is nice when you have friends with you. And it was fabulous to drive on the highway on 5th gear at over 80. Sort of a treat for two-month old Red, who's completely tired of city traffic and crawling the roads at 40 max. Not to forget the chip sandwiches and Shuklaji's tree-climbings. So i'm happy.
Photos: http://www.flickr.com/photos/7610705@N04/2064266713/in/set-72157601860250751/
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Remembering Freud.
I've been having these series of bizarre dreams for the last two weeks. Nothing to do with snakes and spiders and stuff, but just very arbid technicolour renditions of situations i would love to avoid. True to the Freudian spirit, i've tried to 'interpret' them in any way i can, but the logical conclusions i come up with are something that i'm already aware of, so it's not like my subconscious is telling me something new.
Take for instance, a night-long dream i had this weekend. About a woman i absolutely dislike - for the only reason that her attitude goes through an almost imperceptible change with certain persons around her. Imagine living through seeing her acting up, for a whole night. And like that wasn't bad enough, i dreamt of her in the constant company of somebody i'm very close to - a sore point in real life as well. I already know i disliked that situation, so my dream had no surprises in store for me.
Last night i went to sleep, worrying about maggot-infested dreams because i'd just thrown a half-decomposed dead rat out of my room. (That's distasteful enough, so i won't go into further details.) Thankfully, i didn't have any such visions, but i did have something completely out of the blue: missing a train to Mumbai because of a slow-poke ticket-counter woman. My dad's with me and, surprisingly, i'm carrying just a mid-sized backpack. So anyway, i'm waiting for this woman to issue my ticket, and she takes her own sweet time. I miss the train, and i have to catch a different train to Yeshwantpur so i can get onto the Mumbai train from there. Best part is, despite all my efforts - daring last-minute train boarding stunts et al - i miss it, i miss the darn train. And i'm just left feeling completely helpless on the platform.
Now, it's been close to a year since i last went to Mumbai, and i have been intending to go for a while. I just haven't been to because i'm in my probation period at my workplace and i refuse to go to Mumbai for anything less than 10 days. I know all those things, and again, my dream didn't reveal anything out of the so-called ordinary.
So i wonder, if Freud were alive, what psychosexual interpretation would he have got out of those dreams? Considering neither of them are even remotely sexually symbolic? Unless you think of the train and my wanting to get on it and... Eeeyuuu, i don't think i want to go there.
(P.S: I wonder what he would have made of the colour i've used?)
Take for instance, a night-long dream i had this weekend. About a woman i absolutely dislike - for the only reason that her attitude goes through an almost imperceptible change with certain persons around her. Imagine living through seeing her acting up, for a whole night. And like that wasn't bad enough, i dreamt of her in the constant company of somebody i'm very close to - a sore point in real life as well. I already know i disliked that situation, so my dream had no surprises in store for me.
Last night i went to sleep, worrying about maggot-infested dreams because i'd just thrown a half-decomposed dead rat out of my room. (That's distasteful enough, so i won't go into further details.) Thankfully, i didn't have any such visions, but i did have something completely out of the blue: missing a train to Mumbai because of a slow-poke ticket-counter woman. My dad's with me and, surprisingly, i'm carrying just a mid-sized backpack. So anyway, i'm waiting for this woman to issue my ticket, and she takes her own sweet time. I miss the train, and i have to catch a different train to Yeshwantpur so i can get onto the Mumbai train from there. Best part is, despite all my efforts - daring last-minute train boarding stunts et al - i miss it, i miss the darn train. And i'm just left feeling completely helpless on the platform.
Now, it's been close to a year since i last went to Mumbai, and i have been intending to go for a while. I just haven't been to because i'm in my probation period at my workplace and i refuse to go to Mumbai for anything less than 10 days. I know all those things, and again, my dream didn't reveal anything out of the so-called ordinary.
So i wonder, if Freud were alive, what psychosexual interpretation would he have got out of those dreams? Considering neither of them are even remotely sexually symbolic? Unless you think of the train and my wanting to get on it and... Eeeyuuu, i don't think i want to go there.
(P.S: I wonder what he would have made of the colour i've used?)
Monday, November 12, 2007
Initiation into the Art of Cooking Biryani.
I needed:
1. To get off the phone so i could give all my attention to what had to go into it.
2. Somebody to clean the chicken before i ventured to touch it.
3. Plenty of patience, especially since my mother - who cooks Biryani in half a blink of an eye - was tutoring me and was constantly hurrying me up; and i like enjoying the process as much as the end product.
Every Muslim baby is taught to make Biryani even before it learns to babble. [And this i say, is irrespective of the sex of the baby, because i constantly see my Dad coming into the kitchen and dropping little in(or un, depending on the way you see it)-valuable tips into my Mom's already red-with-the-heat-of-cooking ears.]
Sadly, i was not one of those babies.
For me, it took being 24, and being driven out of my mind with vegetating at home for four days to give Biryani-making a shot. It's not like i was venturing into the kitchen for the first time, yet there was that mixture of anticipation and anxiety - shame on me if i screwed up on Biryani. It was an inherent part of being a Muslim, as precious and vital as the air one breathes. Thinking that my initiation would be ostentatious - not to the extent of having drums and shehnais in the background, and women throwing flowers on the path that led me to the kitchen and all, but just something like using the finest of ingredients, being dressed for it, and things like that - i instead had my mother shouting instructions to me from the bedroom, asking me to use the vegetables that Dad had purchased from the kaaka-angdi on the main road. (Yes, we DO use vegetables in non-vegetarian Biryani!)
Like a pro, i diced tomatoes while talking on the phone precariouly balanced between my left ear and shoulder. The onions proved a lot tougher, so i had to hang up and give the bulbs all my attention. As well as my tears.
That done, i marinated the chicken (and yeah, i ended up cleaning it and making faces worse than Calvin at the dinner table) with the basic masalas. Meanwhile, Mom shot instructions like pygmy darts and i scrambled all over the place getting the things together. The result was that there were packets and packets of ingredients strewn all around the stove, and my Mom tutted and told me that i'm so messy, i must have my father's genes playing dominant in me. I must have his tactfulness too, because Mom skipped two steps to making Biryani and told me that that's how it was done, and i thought it safer for my health to let it pass unnoticed.
We were finally down to the cooking. This couldn't afford to go wrong, so Mom was standing next to me by now to monitor everything i was doing. I didn't know onions take a really long time to turn golden brown, so every five minutes i was yelling out false alarms that they were so golden, they were giving Halle Berry's sepia tones a complex. Apart from that little thingummy, everything else went off as planned, and the Biryani was done in 20 minutes. Easy-peasy.
The three of us (Dad included) sat down to dinner. My mother beaming with pride at having taught me how to cook Biryani, my Dad sort of skeptical (this morning he asked me if i had a stomach upset, just because he had one) and me completely nauseated with the smells of cooking. I didn't have a choice, though. I had to eat, otherwise they'd think i was scheming to kill them by feeding it to them or something.
And so it was that we took our first bite, savouring the subtle flavours of the garam masala, the tenderness of the chicken, the aroma of ghee and fresh coriander and...umm... did someone forget to add the salt?
(P.S: The salt bit was just for effect. The Biryani turned out juuuuuuuuust fine. I'm hoping i'll be able to do it on my own the next time. Minus motherly supervision.)
1. To get off the phone so i could give all my attention to what had to go into it.
2. Somebody to clean the chicken before i ventured to touch it.
3. Plenty of patience, especially since my mother - who cooks Biryani in half a blink of an eye - was tutoring me and was constantly hurrying me up; and i like enjoying the process as much as the end product.
Every Muslim baby is taught to make Biryani even before it learns to babble. [And this i say, is irrespective of the sex of the baby, because i constantly see my Dad coming into the kitchen and dropping little in(or un, depending on the way you see it)-valuable tips into my Mom's already red-with-the-heat-of-cooking ears.]
Sadly, i was not one of those babies.
For me, it took being 24, and being driven out of my mind with vegetating at home for four days to give Biryani-making a shot. It's not like i was venturing into the kitchen for the first time, yet there was that mixture of anticipation and anxiety - shame on me if i screwed up on Biryani. It was an inherent part of being a Muslim, as precious and vital as the air one breathes. Thinking that my initiation would be ostentatious - not to the extent of having drums and shehnais in the background, and women throwing flowers on the path that led me to the kitchen and all, but just something like using the finest of ingredients, being dressed for it, and things like that - i instead had my mother shouting instructions to me from the bedroom, asking me to use the vegetables that Dad had purchased from the kaaka-angdi on the main road. (Yes, we DO use vegetables in non-vegetarian Biryani!)
Like a pro, i diced tomatoes while talking on the phone precariouly balanced between my left ear and shoulder. The onions proved a lot tougher, so i had to hang up and give the bulbs all my attention. As well as my tears.
That done, i marinated the chicken (and yeah, i ended up cleaning it and making faces worse than Calvin at the dinner table) with the basic masalas. Meanwhile, Mom shot instructions like pygmy darts and i scrambled all over the place getting the things together. The result was that there were packets and packets of ingredients strewn all around the stove, and my Mom tutted and told me that i'm so messy, i must have my father's genes playing dominant in me. I must have his tactfulness too, because Mom skipped two steps to making Biryani and told me that that's how it was done, and i thought it safer for my health to let it pass unnoticed.
We were finally down to the cooking. This couldn't afford to go wrong, so Mom was standing next to me by now to monitor everything i was doing. I didn't know onions take a really long time to turn golden brown, so every five minutes i was yelling out false alarms that they were so golden, they were giving Halle Berry's sepia tones a complex. Apart from that little thingummy, everything else went off as planned, and the Biryani was done in 20 minutes. Easy-peasy.
The three of us (Dad included) sat down to dinner. My mother beaming with pride at having taught me how to cook Biryani, my Dad sort of skeptical (this morning he asked me if i had a stomach upset, just because he had one) and me completely nauseated with the smells of cooking. I didn't have a choice, though. I had to eat, otherwise they'd think i was scheming to kill them by feeding it to them or something.
And so it was that we took our first bite, savouring the subtle flavours of the garam masala, the tenderness of the chicken, the aroma of ghee and fresh coriander and...umm... did someone forget to add the salt?
(P.S: The salt bit was just for effect. The Biryani turned out juuuuuuuuust fine. I'm hoping i'll be able to do it on my own the next time. Minus motherly supervision.)
Monday, November 05, 2007
To, My Nemesis.
Dear Nemesis,
Although i'd prefer to call you by your real name, i will refrain from doing so. 'Nagging Bitch' might not go down well with you at this point, when you've completely overpowered my sense of fair play and my non-judgemental, humorous way-of-being. Consequences might just be that you'll turn me into you, for posterity.
Why do you have to show your not-so-charming face so frequently? I know the circumstances that give rise to you are often and plenty, but sometimes i'm able to squash your form back into the depths of my dark side. How do you know when i'm most vulnerable? Do you smell the weakness and know the time is ripe to resurface and wreak havoc?
Like, i knew The Call wasn't coming last night. I knew it, it seldom does on a weekend. My not being able to hear The Voice thanks to the many other voices around it, was something that was as real as your parasitic existence in me. And yet, yet, i let myself get vulnerable. Weak. You MUST have smelt it, else i wouldn't be waking up this morning and finding your features in the mirror. It was you who let steam off at The Voice. You, my Nemesis, who threw all those hurtful things at it, saw the pain in The Voice resonate with the pain i felt when The Call (and several others) didn't happen. You, my Nemesis, who makes me lose control and unleash my terror on The Voice, succeeding only in driving it further away from me. And when you're done, Nemesis, you lie back exhausted. Spent. Satiated.
I, on the other hand, am left holding rubble from the battle ground, scars on my soul, and the heavy silence on the other end of the telephone line.
Leave me alone. I beg you.
Yours,
N.
Although i'd prefer to call you by your real name, i will refrain from doing so. 'Nagging Bitch' might not go down well with you at this point, when you've completely overpowered my sense of fair play and my non-judgemental, humorous way-of-being. Consequences might just be that you'll turn me into you, for posterity.
Why do you have to show your not-so-charming face so frequently? I know the circumstances that give rise to you are often and plenty, but sometimes i'm able to squash your form back into the depths of my dark side. How do you know when i'm most vulnerable? Do you smell the weakness and know the time is ripe to resurface and wreak havoc?
Like, i knew The Call wasn't coming last night. I knew it, it seldom does on a weekend. My not being able to hear The Voice thanks to the many other voices around it, was something that was as real as your parasitic existence in me. And yet, yet, i let myself get vulnerable. Weak. You MUST have smelt it, else i wouldn't be waking up this morning and finding your features in the mirror. It was you who let steam off at The Voice. You, my Nemesis, who threw all those hurtful things at it, saw the pain in The Voice resonate with the pain i felt when The Call (and several others) didn't happen. You, my Nemesis, who makes me lose control and unleash my terror on The Voice, succeeding only in driving it further away from me. And when you're done, Nemesis, you lie back exhausted. Spent. Satiated.
I, on the other hand, am left holding rubble from the battle ground, scars on my soul, and the heavy silence on the other end of the telephone line.
Leave me alone. I beg you.
Yours,
N.
Friday, November 02, 2007
Gimme Red!!
For someone who's pretty obsessive about her new (not brand new any more, Red celebrated his first month on October 21) Zen Estilo, better known as Red ("Guru Prasad, please change gears gently"... "Daddy, please don't bang the door too hard"... "Guru Prasad, that's not how you switch off the stereo"... and to the Wilson Garden servicing place, "You call this a touch-up job????? What kind of a service centre are you???"), i have hardly written after that first post, with a picture showing off his sleek (and now, touched-up in places) bod.
Yeah, well, injustice. But i've been so stressed concentrating on how my driver drives and changes gears and how my dad behaves with him, and my trying to not be irritated with everything my dad does when he's in the car, that i've hardly run my hand lovingly over Red in the last month. Let alone run a post on him.
Yesterday, though, after a really long time - two weeks, i think - i took Red for a spin. Not a quick one, either. I reversed Red in the narrow space that my lane provides, and ventured on to the main road for the first time! Can you imagine, the R.T.Nagar main road, with crossroads hurling traffic onto suckers like me! So anyway, i managed to move Red along unscathed.
The 'L' on his tinted front and back windshields had come off, so our first stop was a shop to pick up red insulation tape (pun unintended) and stick it on. Just in case.
From there, i went to Dinnur Main Road, turned right before Munireddy Palya, hit the Radhakrishna theatre road, turned left on the road to Mekhri Circle, took him on to Mekhri Circle (!), turned towards TV Tower, went to Anand Nagar, dropped in at P's mom's place to say hello, met Ananya, and drove back home. Without getting a single scratch on Red! (Well, there was this instance when i took him through a just-about-fits-a-car road, and thinking i was being very experienced, drove Red on without realising there was a mother-of-a stone on the left side. Nothing, thankfully, came of it but a loud CRRRRRUNCH.)
Red was positively purring by the time we got back home. It was such a pleasure to drive him. And my clutch-accelerator co-ordination was gooooooood, Red hardly stopped. I didn't get nervous when he did, either. Besides, i was much, much, much more confident taking him on the main roads this time round.
I think i can handle driving him around the city now. All i need is my goddarn license to become a reality.
Yeah, well, injustice. But i've been so stressed concentrating on how my driver drives and changes gears and how my dad behaves with him, and my trying to not be irritated with everything my dad does when he's in the car, that i've hardly run my hand lovingly over Red in the last month. Let alone run a post on him.
Yesterday, though, after a really long time - two weeks, i think - i took Red for a spin. Not a quick one, either. I reversed Red in the narrow space that my lane provides, and ventured on to the main road for the first time! Can you imagine, the R.T.Nagar main road, with crossroads hurling traffic onto suckers like me! So anyway, i managed to move Red along unscathed.
The 'L' on his tinted front and back windshields had come off, so our first stop was a shop to pick up red insulation tape (pun unintended) and stick it on. Just in case.
From there, i went to Dinnur Main Road, turned right before Munireddy Palya, hit the Radhakrishna theatre road, turned left on the road to Mekhri Circle, took him on to Mekhri Circle (!), turned towards TV Tower, went to Anand Nagar, dropped in at P's mom's place to say hello, met Ananya, and drove back home. Without getting a single scratch on Red! (Well, there was this instance when i took him through a just-about-fits-a-car road, and thinking i was being very experienced, drove Red on without realising there was a mother-of-a stone on the left side. Nothing, thankfully, came of it but a loud CRRRRRUNCH.)
Red was positively purring by the time we got back home. It was such a pleasure to drive him. And my clutch-accelerator co-ordination was gooooooood, Red hardly stopped. I didn't get nervous when he did, either. Besides, i was much, much, much more confident taking him on the main roads this time round.
I think i can handle driving him around the city now. All i need is my goddarn license to become a reality.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Cocknut Oeel and Lungi Lifters - a journey.
It was 9 'o' clock on a Friday night, and nobody had turned up yet. Silenty cursing myself for listening to P, i bided my time in my ex-office, with Khats keeping me company. 9:30 came and went, and still there was no sign of anyone. 9:45, 9:5... My phone rings. P is downstairs with a couple of friends. Phew.
I go down, meet the rest of them. Shouting, screaming, Machcha, Vatta, and plenty of laughter. Captain comes from the party he was attending, R arrives on his Enfield and with him, the guy whose send-off party it was. The minibus meanwhile circles M.G Road and reaches office. There's some more screaming, shouting, exchanging news and gossip, till we decide to put a stop to it and make a move instead. So we board the minibus - 7 of us. And we start our journey to Kerala.
Thrissur, more precisely. Where beefeaters are on the loose, toddy is as free-flowing as the little springs on the forest-covered mountains, and the men are mighty horny. No matter, P and I had been through worse; besides, we had plenty of men in our friend circle to keep us out of trouble. Men who were primarily Mallus themselves, men who were both calm and agressive depending on the situation, men who were protective of the women who were with them, men who were...smashed out of their skulls right now and utterly incapable of putting a sane finger to their foreheads. I decided to get to sleep after a while, considering that the next day we were going to explore Thrissur, its little toddy shops and authentic delicacies. My last thought before falling asleep was that tomorrow morning, we would be meeting the rest of the gang at the hotel where our accomodation had been arranged.
Fat chance.
I woke up at 6:30 the next morning to the news that Calicut had a bandh going, and no vehicles were allowed to get through. No four-wheelers, that is. We stopped at a chai shop in Sultanbathery, had a glassful of sweet tea and coconut biscuits (i should have guessed its ingredients were harbingers of what was to come in the following days) and discussed our woeful situation. The bandh was going to be on till six in the evening, and any vehicle attempting to move around then was being stoned. Depression hit us hard as the bus moved on so we could try our luck anyway. Mountain greenery whizzed past us, rubber plantations with plastic bags pasted on them to collect the adhesive stood tall and silent, tea and coffee plantations smiled their fresh leafy smiles. But none of it could cheer us up.
Abruptly, we came upon a clearing. Curiosity made us look out, and the beauty of it left us gasping for air.
Spread out in front of us was an endless sea of clouds, enveloping all land in sight. Mountains peaked out here and there, creating tears in the white fluff. Like an army marching forward, the clouds moved on slowly, reflecting the little rays of sunshine that could penetrate the layers high above. It's the kind of thing you see when you look out of an aircraft window, not on a road trip. But it was beautiful. A quietness embraced the entire place, the only sound coming from the rustling created by monkeys jumping around on the trees lining the slope.
We would have stayed longer and marvelled at the phenomenon, but we had to move on to try our luck at getting past Calicut before the bandh started.
Just as we reached the beginning of the road that led to the town, we were stopped by a bunch of very serious-looking men. Uh oh, trouble. But they were only warning us not to go further. We did, though, and got stopped again. It was the story of our lives that day, being stopped multiple times. Finally giving in to circumstances, we headed back the way we came to eat breakfast at a hotel in Kalpetta. Feasted on dosas with masala curry, puttus, idiappams and fish curry at 7:30 in the morning. Authentic Kerala food. Delicious. Deciding on exploring Wyanad (more out of force than choice), we headed to Pookod Lake. Pedalled around a bit, was fascinated by the dragonflies in various colours, tried shooting a very attractive water snake, gave up and went to eat lunch. For the first time in my life, i had fried rice and omelettes made in coconut oil. Uhh, no comments on either.
It started raining cats and dogs, and we sent up a silent prayer. The torrent meant that all those hooligans blocking the road and stopping our progress would be seeking protection from the lashing. So we could try our luck again.
And we did. We got stopped a couple of times, but that was it. The worst part of it was, the guys who were stopping us were not a day older than 25 and absolutely clueless about what it was they were doing. It was fun for them to threaten vehicles with huge stones in their hands all ready to be hurled at the windscreen. At one stop, the boys were in their early teens, and that much more aggressive in their youthfulness.
We were able to reach Thrissur only at 7:30 in the evening. The effects of alcohol had all worn off, our tushes were sore from sitting, our faces shrunk and our state-of-being positively uncomfortable. P and I were allotted 206 at Hotel Casino. We met with the rest of the gang in 312, freshened up and headed to K's for dinner. There were still eight strangers, there to attend K's wedding, and i don't think i spoke to any of them that night.
The party began at K's place, and continued at the hotel but i wasn't part of it - the desire for sleep outweighed all others. Sunday was going to be a long day. And a longer night.
We missed the main part of the wedding on Sunday, and reached in time to witness the endless chanting of prayers by the bishop and pastors (or were they fathers?). It was 3 before they decided to take pity on us standing-upright souls and wrap up for lunch. The food was great - there was appam, fish in coconut milk, fish in spicy-sour gravy, beef, pork, baked lobsters, salads, avviyal, rice and for desert...black forest cake with ice cream.
In a state of inebriation, we headed back to the hotel. Some wanted to hit the bed, others wanted to hit the beach. The latter bunch won - i guess it was more so because us women were quite adamant about it, and nobody had the strength to argue. Fixing the time of departure to the beach as 5, we headed to our respective rooms.
P and I were all charged up and couldn't get to sleep. So in the true (but warped) spirit of "When in Kerala, do as the Keralites do", we took some really cheap Mallu magazine-kind pictures, and made crank calls to 312 - where A, A, R and S were trying to get some sleep. Once in Kannada, once in pseudo-Malayalam, and once in a husky-ho voice. They gave up, they did. And came down to our room to have some chai, and then leave to soak up some sun.
Except that there was no sun. We reached the beach at 6:45 - by this time it gets pretty dark in Kerala. How we stumbled all the way up to the water in the dark, i don't know. But once there, we went berserk. I was at a distinct disadvantage - being short, overweight and half-blind. The result was that i was really slow to react, so constantly in the firing range, sometimes even surrounded by five people trying to semi-drown me. Like the women in Pirelli and KF calendars, we posed for some 'sexy' pictures. In the dark. The waves broke the ice for me, and by the end of the beaching, i was pretty familiar with the eight people whom i hadn't spoken to till then.
The next question was: Stop at a family BnR or get back to the hotel and party? We were smelling of the sea - an odour that smells pleasant only in dreamy novels and our imaginations - and coated in a thin layer of fine-grained sand, so the choice was pretty clear.
Back at the hotel, the party started at 9 and went on till the wee hours of morning. I was a madwoman that night, probably the maddest ever. But i had fun. And a cussing match with H, who i think was pretty stunned with my ability to hurl abuses with such ease. (Well H, to tell you the truth, i was sort of stunned myself.)
I had to wake up three hours after i got to sleep to attend another wedding. This one was in Kochi, and was going to take me 1 1/2 hours to get to. At least, that's what they told me.
Two and a half hours later, i was still on my way to the wedding. I was pissed with myself, the car driver, the day (it was Monday, and everybody was in a mad rush to get to work, schools and colleges), the whole world basically. I experienced a feeling of Deja Vu when my tushie started hurting. When i finally got to the wedding hall, i had missed the wedding. Great.
I saw the garlanding ceremony, and was part of the welcoming party for the bride and groom as they entered the mantap for the garlanding. I was highly embarassed because i had reached late, and Ash - the friend who got married - had taken great care to see that i wasn't left alone in the sea of strangers, and was fed and kept company. She also fired me a little for being stupid enough to leave my luggage back at Thrissur and not bringing it along because the airport was half an hour away from the wedding hall. Thankfully, it was her wedding and she got distracted quite easily from giving me any more grief.
So it was that i stuffed my face rapidly and embarked on my journey back. I was even more pissed now because i had just screwed up, true Nabila style - i had rushed to the wedding, i had rushed through the wedding, i had rushed out of the wedding and had still not managed to say bye to A, A, R and S who had a 3:30 p.m flight to Hyd. My flight was at 6:15 and i was still on the way to Thrissur at 2 'o' clock. And i hadn't packed before i left for Kochi in the morning.
I managed to make it back to the hotel by 2:45 and pack. Now it was time for Rush Hour 2 - i went to J and M's room - where M was trying to induce vomitting so he could bring down the alcohol levels in his body. J was panicking on my behalf and calling up the rest of the guys who had gone for a Kerala Ayurvedic Massage, to ask them to come back quickly so we could leave and i could catch my flight.
Poor guys, i quite rushed them. But they had their bit of revenge...at the bakery!!! Banana chips, that's all they were. But you should have seen these guys go at it - as if it were El Dorado, and they had to pick a sample of each and every gold nugget they could. They mused over which packet to buy: the 250 gram one on the left or the 250 gram one on the right? Siiigh...
4:30, and we were about 10 kilometres away from the airport. I was sitting coiled like a spring, while H beside me tried to make me feel better by saying, "Don't worry, you'll reach in time. I always rush in the last minute too, chill."
I didn't let them stop for toddy even. And good thing, that. Because their flight was delayed, and while i rushed to check-in and get my boarding pass, they zipped off in search of 'refreshments' without even saying bye. Except for J, who joined me at the check-in counter and then left to meet his cousin.
I landed in Bangalore exhausted but full of funny memories. Every minute was worth it. Here's a list of some of the things that have stayed with me:
- The sliced pineapples, raw mangoes and amlas soaked in salt water with chopped-up chillis. Very yummy.
- Coconut oil omelettes. Still can't get over it.
- Palam puri - sweet bananas chopped in half, coated with maida batter and fried. In coconut oil.
- Urli vada - onion pakodas, excpet they were flat as a mini-chapati and quite different in taste. Was it the coconut oil?
- Lungis everywhere - all males, except for the self-conscious odd young fellow, wear lungis which they proudly kick up and fold (sometimes) high over their knees. Doesn't leave much to the imagination. (Apparently, the lungis are colour-coded. As in, Hindus from different castes wear a particular colour of lungi, Muslims wear coloured ones, Christians wear another colour, and so on and so forth.)
- The clouds covering Calicut, the ones we saw from one of the winding roads at Wyanad.
- K getting married. I still can't believe it.
- The madness that happened at the hotel on Sunday night. And some.
- The new bunch of friends i made from Mumbai, who'd come for K's wedding. Surprisingly, we all got along instantly. No frills, no frowns, and best of all, no snobs.
- Kochi Airport. Everybody's so... chilled out. Even the security check people. They're all smiling and nice to the people flying. Even the air hostesses seem friendlier.
I'd love to go back again. To explore everything that i didn't have the time for in this trip.
I go down, meet the rest of them. Shouting, screaming, Machcha, Vatta, and plenty of laughter. Captain comes from the party he was attending, R arrives on his Enfield and with him, the guy whose send-off party it was. The minibus meanwhile circles M.G Road and reaches office. There's some more screaming, shouting, exchanging news and gossip, till we decide to put a stop to it and make a move instead. So we board the minibus - 7 of us. And we start our journey to Kerala.
Thrissur, more precisely. Where beefeaters are on the loose, toddy is as free-flowing as the little springs on the forest-covered mountains, and the men are mighty horny. No matter, P and I had been through worse; besides, we had plenty of men in our friend circle to keep us out of trouble. Men who were primarily Mallus themselves, men who were both calm and agressive depending on the situation, men who were protective of the women who were with them, men who were...smashed out of their skulls right now and utterly incapable of putting a sane finger to their foreheads. I decided to get to sleep after a while, considering that the next day we were going to explore Thrissur, its little toddy shops and authentic delicacies. My last thought before falling asleep was that tomorrow morning, we would be meeting the rest of the gang at the hotel where our accomodation had been arranged.
Fat chance.
I woke up at 6:30 the next morning to the news that Calicut had a bandh going, and no vehicles were allowed to get through. No four-wheelers, that is. We stopped at a chai shop in Sultanbathery, had a glassful of sweet tea and coconut biscuits (i should have guessed its ingredients were harbingers of what was to come in the following days) and discussed our woeful situation. The bandh was going to be on till six in the evening, and any vehicle attempting to move around then was being stoned. Depression hit us hard as the bus moved on so we could try our luck anyway. Mountain greenery whizzed past us, rubber plantations with plastic bags pasted on them to collect the adhesive stood tall and silent, tea and coffee plantations smiled their fresh leafy smiles. But none of it could cheer us up.
Abruptly, we came upon a clearing. Curiosity made us look out, and the beauty of it left us gasping for air.
Spread out in front of us was an endless sea of clouds, enveloping all land in sight. Mountains peaked out here and there, creating tears in the white fluff. Like an army marching forward, the clouds moved on slowly, reflecting the little rays of sunshine that could penetrate the layers high above. It's the kind of thing you see when you look out of an aircraft window, not on a road trip. But it was beautiful. A quietness embraced the entire place, the only sound coming from the rustling created by monkeys jumping around on the trees lining the slope.
We would have stayed longer and marvelled at the phenomenon, but we had to move on to try our luck at getting past Calicut before the bandh started.
Just as we reached the beginning of the road that led to the town, we were stopped by a bunch of very serious-looking men. Uh oh, trouble. But they were only warning us not to go further. We did, though, and got stopped again. It was the story of our lives that day, being stopped multiple times. Finally giving in to circumstances, we headed back the way we came to eat breakfast at a hotel in Kalpetta. Feasted on dosas with masala curry, puttus, idiappams and fish curry at 7:30 in the morning. Authentic Kerala food. Delicious. Deciding on exploring Wyanad (more out of force than choice), we headed to Pookod Lake. Pedalled around a bit, was fascinated by the dragonflies in various colours, tried shooting a very attractive water snake, gave up and went to eat lunch. For the first time in my life, i had fried rice and omelettes made in coconut oil. Uhh, no comments on either.
It started raining cats and dogs, and we sent up a silent prayer. The torrent meant that all those hooligans blocking the road and stopping our progress would be seeking protection from the lashing. So we could try our luck again.
And we did. We got stopped a couple of times, but that was it. The worst part of it was, the guys who were stopping us were not a day older than 25 and absolutely clueless about what it was they were doing. It was fun for them to threaten vehicles with huge stones in their hands all ready to be hurled at the windscreen. At one stop, the boys were in their early teens, and that much more aggressive in their youthfulness.
We were able to reach Thrissur only at 7:30 in the evening. The effects of alcohol had all worn off, our tushes were sore from sitting, our faces shrunk and our state-of-being positively uncomfortable. P and I were allotted 206 at Hotel Casino. We met with the rest of the gang in 312, freshened up and headed to K's for dinner. There were still eight strangers, there to attend K's wedding, and i don't think i spoke to any of them that night.
The party began at K's place, and continued at the hotel but i wasn't part of it - the desire for sleep outweighed all others. Sunday was going to be a long day. And a longer night.
We missed the main part of the wedding on Sunday, and reached in time to witness the endless chanting of prayers by the bishop and pastors (or were they fathers?). It was 3 before they decided to take pity on us standing-upright souls and wrap up for lunch. The food was great - there was appam, fish in coconut milk, fish in spicy-sour gravy, beef, pork, baked lobsters, salads, avviyal, rice and for desert...black forest cake with ice cream.
In a state of inebriation, we headed back to the hotel. Some wanted to hit the bed, others wanted to hit the beach. The latter bunch won - i guess it was more so because us women were quite adamant about it, and nobody had the strength to argue. Fixing the time of departure to the beach as 5, we headed to our respective rooms.
P and I were all charged up and couldn't get to sleep. So in the true (but warped) spirit of "When in Kerala, do as the Keralites do", we took some really cheap Mallu magazine-kind pictures, and made crank calls to 312 - where A, A, R and S were trying to get some sleep. Once in Kannada, once in pseudo-Malayalam, and once in a husky-ho voice. They gave up, they did. And came down to our room to have some chai, and then leave to soak up some sun.
Except that there was no sun. We reached the beach at 6:45 - by this time it gets pretty dark in Kerala. How we stumbled all the way up to the water in the dark, i don't know. But once there, we went berserk. I was at a distinct disadvantage - being short, overweight and half-blind. The result was that i was really slow to react, so constantly in the firing range, sometimes even surrounded by five people trying to semi-drown me. Like the women in Pirelli and KF calendars, we posed for some 'sexy' pictures. In the dark. The waves broke the ice for me, and by the end of the beaching, i was pretty familiar with the eight people whom i hadn't spoken to till then.
The next question was: Stop at a family BnR or get back to the hotel and party? We were smelling of the sea - an odour that smells pleasant only in dreamy novels and our imaginations - and coated in a thin layer of fine-grained sand, so the choice was pretty clear.
Back at the hotel, the party started at 9 and went on till the wee hours of morning. I was a madwoman that night, probably the maddest ever. But i had fun. And a cussing match with H, who i think was pretty stunned with my ability to hurl abuses with such ease. (Well H, to tell you the truth, i was sort of stunned myself.)
I had to wake up three hours after i got to sleep to attend another wedding. This one was in Kochi, and was going to take me 1 1/2 hours to get to. At least, that's what they told me.
Two and a half hours later, i was still on my way to the wedding. I was pissed with myself, the car driver, the day (it was Monday, and everybody was in a mad rush to get to work, schools and colleges), the whole world basically. I experienced a feeling of Deja Vu when my tushie started hurting. When i finally got to the wedding hall, i had missed the wedding. Great.
I saw the garlanding ceremony, and was part of the welcoming party for the bride and groom as they entered the mantap for the garlanding. I was highly embarassed because i had reached late, and Ash - the friend who got married - had taken great care to see that i wasn't left alone in the sea of strangers, and was fed and kept company. She also fired me a little for being stupid enough to leave my luggage back at Thrissur and not bringing it along because the airport was half an hour away from the wedding hall. Thankfully, it was her wedding and she got distracted quite easily from giving me any more grief.
So it was that i stuffed my face rapidly and embarked on my journey back. I was even more pissed now because i had just screwed up, true Nabila style - i had rushed to the wedding, i had rushed through the wedding, i had rushed out of the wedding and had still not managed to say bye to A, A, R and S who had a 3:30 p.m flight to Hyd. My flight was at 6:15 and i was still on the way to Thrissur at 2 'o' clock. And i hadn't packed before i left for Kochi in the morning.
I managed to make it back to the hotel by 2:45 and pack. Now it was time for Rush Hour 2 - i went to J and M's room - where M was trying to induce vomitting so he could bring down the alcohol levels in his body. J was panicking on my behalf and calling up the rest of the guys who had gone for a Kerala Ayurvedic Massage, to ask them to come back quickly so we could leave and i could catch my flight.
Poor guys, i quite rushed them. But they had their bit of revenge...at the bakery!!! Banana chips, that's all they were. But you should have seen these guys go at it - as if it were El Dorado, and they had to pick a sample of each and every gold nugget they could. They mused over which packet to buy: the 250 gram one on the left or the 250 gram one on the right? Siiigh...
4:30, and we were about 10 kilometres away from the airport. I was sitting coiled like a spring, while H beside me tried to make me feel better by saying, "Don't worry, you'll reach in time. I always rush in the last minute too, chill."
I didn't let them stop for toddy even. And good thing, that. Because their flight was delayed, and while i rushed to check-in and get my boarding pass, they zipped off in search of 'refreshments' without even saying bye. Except for J, who joined me at the check-in counter and then left to meet his cousin.
I landed in Bangalore exhausted but full of funny memories. Every minute was worth it. Here's a list of some of the things that have stayed with me:
- The sliced pineapples, raw mangoes and amlas soaked in salt water with chopped-up chillis. Very yummy.
- Coconut oil omelettes. Still can't get over it.
- Palam puri - sweet bananas chopped in half, coated with maida batter and fried. In coconut oil.
- Urli vada - onion pakodas, excpet they were flat as a mini-chapati and quite different in taste. Was it the coconut oil?
- Lungis everywhere - all males, except for the self-conscious odd young fellow, wear lungis which they proudly kick up and fold (sometimes) high over their knees. Doesn't leave much to the imagination. (Apparently, the lungis are colour-coded. As in, Hindus from different castes wear a particular colour of lungi, Muslims wear coloured ones, Christians wear another colour, and so on and so forth.)
- The clouds covering Calicut, the ones we saw from one of the winding roads at Wyanad.
- K getting married. I still can't believe it.
- The madness that happened at the hotel on Sunday night. And some.
- The new bunch of friends i made from Mumbai, who'd come for K's wedding. Surprisingly, we all got along instantly. No frills, no frowns, and best of all, no snobs.
- Kochi Airport. Everybody's so... chilled out. Even the security check people. They're all smiling and nice to the people flying. Even the air hostesses seem friendlier.
I'd love to go back again. To explore everything that i didn't have the time for in this trip.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)