Goaaaaaaaah!

There's one thing i can say for this Goa trip: if all my previous days on the coast are enough to send me to hell - maybe even deeper, if one exists - then this weekend is enough to buy me some redemption.

It was my most sober, tame, un-wild Goa trip ever. And these days, because i'm not so fond of rambling on and using my writing ability as fillers for posts (which i seem to be doing pretty often - my writing skills are gradually getting insufferable), i'm going to do a High points and Low points number.

So, here goes:

High Points:

Bumming on the beach for endless hours under a parasol: the sea breeze ruffling my hair, some nice bods to check out, a foot massage, alternating between a dip in the water and lazing on a sun bed...

Dolphin spotting: For the first time ever, we woke up at an unearthly 8:30 a.m (unearthly for Goa, that is) to look for pink snub noses in the sea. The water was pretty choppy with no guarantee of us spotting dolphins, and the rains were lashing but we still managed to see a trio.

Cape Town Cafe: Good crowd, great music, strong OH mixes. Bye bye 'Oh-i'm-so-cool-look-at-all-the-men-ogling-at-me' firang chicks gyrating obscenely on the pole counter at Mambo's! Adios men with pleading eyes trying to find women to get them in to watch the firangs!

Parasailing: All i'd like to say is, sailing over the sea is the best adrenalin rush ever. (Apart from river rafting.)

Chicken Biryani at Souza Lobo and Prawn Vindaloo at a beach shack: Even Mom's Biryani pales in comparison. And the prawns, oh the prawns. Yummm.

Low points:

- Bickering with the water sports guy over his charges. It sort of just got out of control.

- People stuffing their tongues down other people's throats, age group 18 onwards.

- A brilliant friend hiring a bike and riding a different one all through our stay, only to realise when we returned it a half hour before heading to the bus stand to catch our bus back, that the bike she rode was not the one hired out. Result: a very pissed off K and N, even more irritated because of making it to the bus by the skin of our teeth.

- Love in the air. And us? Single women. Sigh.

Dandiya che!

School girl-ish excitement was the flavour of the night, along with some Pav Bhaji, eggless cake and cuisine. The women were dressed up in mirror-work ghagras complete with tons of Lambada-style bangles, temporary tattoos, face makeup and heavy headgear. The men were mostly in kurta pyjamas, but some wore the traditional Gujrati costumers. The sticks were many-coloured and blingy.

That's how the first Dandiya night of my life began.

We dressed up in our best and went to Palace Grounds last night, reaching at 9:00 p.m-ish. Surprisingly, we were early. Dandiya sticks were on sale - 20 bucks a pair - and since we didn't carry any of our own, we excitedly went and bought us some...bamboo sticks of various colours cut to size and lined with pink colour on the edges???

Dandiya nights are apparently places where the eyes meet and the hearts connect - either in the circle of dance or via heavy saree-clad 'Ben's and 'Bai's. So when we arrived, the Gujju boy of our gang was given a once-over by a Black Saree Ben snickering something into her companion's ear. The Gujju girls - one who hadn't been to a Dandiya night in 10 years and another who felt like it had been that long since she had done it - were also weighted and rated by their dance moves, smiles and... more. Our South Indian friend decided he was better off amidst the stalls packed with Gujrati flavours than wielding sticks to give a friendly smack to his rotating partners.

I was pretty freaked out by the intricacy of the dance movements - the garbha and what-not - till i got the basics, after which i was set for the night. Two rounds of basic, then another three with a bit more flourish, and i was bathed in sweat. The movement might be slow and the beats well-paced but you can bet your a** that it exercises your body like hell. And because the circle is so enormous, we dandiya-d with the same people over and over. I wouldn't be surprised if by the end of the night, we'd started addressing everybody by their family-given nicknames! We wound up at 2:30 in the morning after a last ten minutes of frenzied dancing during which the drummer fancied himself to be a band member of Rammstein.

Exiting the place and fully excited at having inaugurated my Dandiya experiences, i turned to my friends and said, "So, shall we do this on Wednesday too?" to which my friends replied with withering looks. Like me, i guess they'd never dreamed of dancing to Dandiya versions of Beedi Jalai Le (Omkara), Tadap Tadap Ke (Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam), Bin Tere Sanam (Umm, don't remember movie), and other very new-age disco numbers - one night of it was as much as they could handle.

Oh well, until next year then.

He said, "Love you" and meant it.

The only man in my life so far who's said those words - almost an embarassed confession (not to anything clandestine, though) just before he hung up.

I was on the phone last evening, talking to him. We hadn't had a decent one-on-one despite my meeting him several times in the past couple of weeks, thanks to some stupid clingy bitch and a big crowd. I really wish i had the time to talk to him some more, but the conversation we had was enough. He couldn't stop thanking me for the gift, cracked a couple of bad-ass 'man' puns (his justification: "You were listening to a whole lot of shit from the other boys and laughing your ass off, i say one thing and you're all chee-chee?"), laughed, said we'd keep in touch. And just as we were hanging up: "I will remember you with fondness, thanks sweetheart, take care" and just before the phone could be disconnected, "Love you".

I knew it, i always knew it. The affection was mutual, from the beginning.

When the words were uttered yesterday, though, i didn't know how to react. I just cut the phone. And i gave a bit of a head jerk - sort of like how one is awakened from a stupor when they're slapped. It's just a comparison, and not how i felt at all.

Ironic, isn't it? That when i hear the words from boyfriends and lovers, i fervently wish they're true. And when it actually comes from a person i feel a great deal of respect, affection, even a healthy amount of attraction for, i'm unable to feel anything much except that this time, the words were genuine.

Yes, i've said yes.

It's been running through my head for a couple of months now. And really, i can't put my finger on what made me change my mind, but change it they did.

I spoke to several people about it, had conversations with those leading happy lives and those leading normal ones, got completely confused and mind effed, dillydallied, freaked out, consulted, did everything i possibly could.

My biggest fear was that once i opened up my mind to it and the words were out of my mouth, there was no going back.

So over dinner on the night of the 25th, as we all watched TV, i told my parents that i had decided.

Decided to get married.

My biggest sadness is that i won't have my love story. The one i wanted to have with every man i dated for however long, of which just two came really close to being told about to my parents. My biggest sadness is that i have to let go of the excitement of walking up to my parents and telling them, "Here's the guy i want to marry."

But i guess that's not how it's supposed to be with me. So i'll live with it.

So yes, that's that. Fingers crossed, waiting to see where this decision will take me.

Struggling to speak Spanish.

In a time far, far away, i used to play Uno on Facebook. With three random people from across the world. One such game happened to have a diverse, interesting set of people, of whom one guy sent me a friend request and i accepted. That's where it ended.

Today, two years later, he pings me. And we talk. In Spanish! How cool is that? I had some difficulty understanding a few things, for which i quickly referred online or my book. It was awesome, and it felt good to be talking in a language not my own. I still have far to go, though.

Anyway, gist of the conversation was that he was impressed i could understand him so perfectly (Hah! If he only knew!), and liked chatting with me and hoped to catch me online again sometime.

And before the wheels begin turning double time in your heads, i'm doing this because i need to better my Spanish. He doesn't know this of course, because i don't know how to say 'I'm only practicing my Spanish with you' in Espanol.

Hmm... 'Yo soy practico en el Espanol contigo'? No se.

Sweeeeet.

An evening well spent. With Marvin Gaye and Nina Simone and Led Zep and Frank Sinatra and Aretha Franklin and CCR and Jefferson Airplane and Michael Buble and Roxy Music and Koop and The Mamas and The Papas and Jose Feliciano and...well, you get the drift.

And then out to Cirrus where i spot a lot of new faces and some old, long-lost ones.

Back home to K's, taking it easy. Monkey print shorts and grey anti-fit shirt. A for company. Interesting conversations. Good food.

This is what life should be all about.

That's not the way we be, Boy.

I couldn't end with a song that was good enough to tell you how i felt about the situation, but now that i've rediscovered it, here it is:

All the time that we spend together
I won't fuss
I won't fight tryin to make you mine
You know i'm not that kind

I said I'll love you 'til the 12th of never
But I won't run far ahead
Leaving you behind
You know I'm not that kind

'Cause I'm not that kind of girl
And it's not my kind of world
No it's not for me
Not where I wanna be

Help me out
Tell me what you're thinkin
If I rush, slow me down
You can take your time
You know I'm not that kind

If you leave, I believe life will go on
The wind will blow, water flow
And the sun will shine, yeah it will
You know I'm not that kind

'Cause I'm not that kind of girl
And it's not my kind of world
No it's not for me
So live and set you free

Now what I say to you
I would say to no other
I've got my friends
I won't look for another in you,
So what you gonna do?

'Cause if you swing with me
Soon you will discover
I'll give you tenderness
Unlike any other can do

And what I say is true

'Cause I'm not that kind of girl
And it's not my kind of world
No it's not for me, not for me
I said not where I wanna be
Said not where I wanna be
It's not my kinda thing
It's not the way, way we wanna swing
It's not for you, it's not for me
I said my baby
I'm not that kind
I'm not that kind
No
Not that kind of girl.

The Room Re-vamp.

When i'm not working, i'm obsessing about what to do with my room. Just after we'd moved into the new house and settled down, my room was the one with the least character. For months now, i've been wondering what to do to make it more me.

Of course, this journey has been embarked upon several times over several weeks. I've managed to collect a few things here and a few things there to use up as and when the time for it comes. On the list are fabric that can be used as a bedspread, cushions in bright colours, fancy shmancy fabric to make cushion covers, chatais and etcetera. But then all that's a waste if there's nowhere to put them, no?

The initial plan was to buy a Futon, not just because the room needed more seating space (imagine four people squeezed in on a rickety old wrought-iron single bed) but also because i loved the idea of owning one. Then when i finally went shopping, i settled for foldable mattresses from Kurlon.

Today, the time finally came for me to pull out all those things i had stashed up and do something with them. So i did.

Clockwise from left: Chatais from Home Stop, Rs.315 and Rs. 350 respectively; Foldable mattresses from Kurlon with a one-year warranty, two 4X6 and one 3X6, Rs. 3600 in all; bedspread fabric from Platform, Chennai for Rs. 250; Jute shatranji from Rajasthan Handicrafts Exhibition, Rs. 1000; Cushions in silk covers from Yercaud and Home Stop, Rs. 1000 for all.

Here's what it finally turned into...

I used the width difference in the mattresses to advantage and created a sort of step. Works fabulously to rest feet. And gives ideas on playing with two different bedspreads to try as a combination. Now, i have to stock up on the bedspreads because i really like what the contrast looks like.

Coming soon: A custom-made bookshelf to mount on my shoe cabinet. And a little spot for all the herbs i'm planning to grow!

'Supdates.

Yes yes, it's been a while. It's the laziness that one feels after a long bout of hard work and non-stop busy-ness. So anyway, here are updates:

1. Salsa Congress was awesome. Got to see some amazing performances, gave an amazing performance that got a standing ovation from not just the crowd but also the international dance instructors at the Congress. Woo hoo!

2. Learnt the basics of Bachata, Colombian Salsa, Reggae and some fancy footwork. Didn't have time for any other workshop. And the after-parties? Oh my God. There's no place i've seen that's so full of life and vigour as the after-parties. People dancing in a ground the size of half a football field!

3. Nivel Uno de Espanol. Complete. I passed. Distinction. Nivel Dos will start in September, but i want to keep the months from here on for travel.

4. On the cards: Mumbai, Pune, Baroda, Goa, Rajasthan.

5. I got back from Hyderabad on Wednesday morning. This was the first time i was visiting the city during Ramadan, and boy does the place know how to celebrate. I pigged out on Haleem and Sheermal Nahari at Charminar, and ate a paan (Kimaon) which i swear never to eat again because it got me high enough to throw up. Twice.

I also partied, chilled, spent time with family, and got myself some soul comfort. Very different, very memorable trip.

6. Work's going good. Pretty busy, actually.

7. I'm considering marriage. Seriously.

8. I spoke to a friend whose husband gifted her the world map and said, "Any place you put your finger on, we'll go for a holiday there." That's going to be one of my qualifying criteria to get hitched: when i meet the guy, i will put a world map in front of him and see what he does.

9. I desperately, desperately want a house of my own. And i'm contemplating telling my parents i want to move out.

10. Weight loss. Yay!

11. Flirtations, here and there.

12. It strikes me in the middle of the day that i will be 28 in another four months. 28!

13. I feel lumps in places they have no business being present. Need to get tested.

14. Sleep is my priority these days.

15. I held a baby in my arms after over three years. It didn't feel strange. Does that mean i'm ready? Gah,whatever.

16. My weekends are free again, and i suddenly find myself with more time on my hands than i know what to do with.

You succumb, and then you fall for it.

Back in college, Life Of Pi had strong psychological associations for me: pretentious, arty farty, intellectualised to the extent of being disgusting, blah blah blah. Don't ask me why, i just did.

Recently, i happened to chance upon it at a friend's place in a moment of boredom. Here, i have to pause to tell you that when i'm in the kind of bored mood that requires reading to make it go away, i will read anything - even The Times of India. So, of course, i decided to quell my boredom, and my faint curiosity on what could possibly be so enthralling about the book.

The first few pages amused me. A few paragraphs fascinated me. And some sentences stirred in me a deep understanding of human behaviour.

I was hooked.

I bought myself a copy, and finished reading it just sometime back. I can't say that i love it, only that there's something it does to you - spiritually, physically, psychologically. And with the last line of the last page of that story coming to an end, i decided that i would begin a new one by researching Pi Patel, carnivorous islands, Oika Shipping Company. What i found left me devastated: every single bit of that book is a fig-ment of Yann Martel's imagination. It didn't. Really. Happen.

Now, i just feel cheated. More cheated and betrayed than any other book has made me feel.

One performance down, the bigger one to go.

The student performance was last night. We grooved to a full house with a mixed crowd. Whistles, ego boosters, loud applause, catcalls - everything happened.

I made a couple of mistakes but then just went with the flow and had a blast. Lots of first times - first time performance in front of 300 people, first time showing my midriff to a whole bunch of strangers and a couple more that i prefer to keep private. It felt awfully awkward and weird - the rare conservative streak in me showed itself - but i like dancing more than that, so i got comfortable soon enough. Besides, it's a once in a lifetime (or twice, if one counts the coming Salsa Congress) thing, so it should be okay.

I had the troupe director's husband walk up to me and say, "My god, you were so good, and you looked so pretty! I couldn't take my eyes off you!" And apparently a lot of people told the director that they enjoyed watching me perform.

Happiness has happened. Two months of strenuous training for three and a half minutes of near-perfect bellydancing. I just have to make sure i'm even better at the Salsa Congress.

What are the chances of...

...spotting lots of good-looking men in Bangalore? At the same time? And the same place????????

...walking up to Random Guy You Think Is Cute and tell him, "I'm sorry about interrupting, but i think you're cute"?

...wearing a really short dress and getting away without anybody recognising who you are?

None, unless you were me and happened to be at UB City tonight, sipping cocktails at City Bar.

By the way, i cannot for the life of me understand what the big hullabaloo about that place is. It sucks. (Cue severe retching and Bulimic noises).

Avatar - the new Fern Gully movie?

I finally watched Avatar last night. What a visual treat it is - the colours, the animation, the conceptualisation of all the living, breathing creatures and plants. I must say, when James Cameron makes a movie, he makes it worth one's while. But for the most part, i couldn't help wondering if he'd borrowed ideas from Fern Gully-The Last Rainforest.

Here's why.

In Avatar, Jake's a human who gets his own Avatar and becomes one with the N'avi. His purpose is to win their trust and get them to leave their land, but he falls in love with the people and decides to change sides while his superiors think he's betrayed humanity.

In Fern Gully, Zak-one of the workers out to destroy the Fern Gully rainforest, gets shrunk into a thumb-sized creature by the daughter of the fairy people's king. Of course, he 'learns their ways', falls in love and finally turns against the rest of his team to help save the forest.

In Avatar, Pandora is as much its people as the people are Pandora. The bond between nature and humanity is strong, solid and magical. Same with the fairy people of Fern Gully.

In Avatar, they have the HomeTree and the Tree of Souls - their most sacred space. In Fern Gully, they have their home tree and a sacred tree that's the lifeblood of the forest, the source of all creation in the forest.

Avatar has it Eywa, and Fern Gully has its Magi.

And there's so much more that's similar. The seeds of Eywa, paths lighting up when they walk on it, the love triangle...

And, apparently, i'm not the only one who thinks this way. There's plenty of videos on Youtube that has mash-ups of the movies and stuff.

I'm not complaining, though. I love Fern Gully, and i really liked Avatar for its scale and elaborateness. So what if Cameron took off from the 1992 award-winning movie? I think he added a lot more life to it.

2010 - The Year of Estrangements.

Two of my close friends got married. And they didn't invite me.

Another got engaged. I read about it on Facebook.

A friend i've known for a while passed a judgement of a sort on my attitude towards an ex simply because she drew conclusions of her own out of my interaction with him, and now she's moving away from me too.

Must mean that something's terribly wrong with me. No?

Wowee.

The line is thin between a selfish act

And the things you do to keep yourself intact.

- Jon Brion

And so i begin my training.

Salsa Congress is happening. Yes, yes, it's happening in Bangalore and that's not the bigger news.

Salsa Congress is happening, and i'm going to be a part of it!

How the convincing of the parents and all that happened, don't ask. But i will be performing there, and attending workshops, and dancing to the tunes of the world's best, and partying and ohmygodi'msoexcited!

A month and a half from now, i will take the stage with eight beautiful ladies and shimmy to the tunes of Salaam Salaam. And i will be slimmer, sexier, and way more everything-er. (So Shakira, you're getting serious competition honey.)

I'm just keeping my fingers crossed so nothing goes wrong. You know how these things are, right. Just when you want something to happen really really badly, life gives you a googly and makes them really really bad.

Boy? Oh Boy.

It's been seven months since the breakup. And i'm still not able to get him out of my head. This, despite the fact that there have been alternatives available. Truth is, i think my feelings for boy run deeper than i thought they did, so much so that i'm not interested in the alternatives.

Since his last mail mentioned that he wasn't taking my calls or responding to my messages because it made moving on easier for both, i was worried about what he might make of me wanting to get in touch again. After months of stressing over it, i decided to shut out all the voices in my head and mail him. So i did, a week back.

I poured my heart out, i can tell you that. Told him exactly how i felt, and that i wanted to see where the relationship would go.

Post the mail, i felt an immense sense of relief. And then started a different kind of worry - what would his reply be?

Two days later, he sent me a message - that he read my mail, and would write to me soon. He was putting in long hours at work every day, and was sorry about taking so much time.

So, i'm still waiting for the verdict. Will it be, won't it be. I don't know, can't say.

But i am SO keeping my fingers crossed.

Manipulating life for a reason.

Sometimes, i think about the first time i indulged with OH family and i always, always get confused about whether it was 2004 or 2005. (When i checked with ex, he said it was 2006.) Anyhow, it's been a handful of years now.

I knew i wanted to taste all of it once, to know what it felt like; to know what it was that got people so hooked on it; and to know what league of high it belonged to. Today i can, with mixed feelings of pride and guilt, say that i have tasted most of all there is. And i know what i like/love/dislike.

It's the same policy i follow with almost everything else: that i have to try everything once to know what it's like. It's what has led me to explore cuisines, sea food, meat, places, indulge in adventures, travel to different places under different, unique circumstances; and to just live it up. Needless to say, i love every minute of it.

But it wasn't always like this. While i was open to some things earlier, i wasn't okay with most. That openness came when i decided that i wanted to be the one to know what the younger generations of my family were up to when they tried doing the things or telling the lies that i have done/told, be it my cousins or my kids (someday).

And so, last evening i took two of my cousins to UB City to show them the glamourous side of Bangalore life. The Sunday Crowd hasn't spared that place either - from being nice and hep, it's gone to being a slightly uppity version of Cubbon Park. Junta from all over comes in, takes pictures of the ceiling, walks into Louis Vuitton, gawks at the price tags and takes some more pictures, gets wet in the water from the fountain in half naked states. In short, UB City has turned quite Ugh-ly.

I took the cousins to Shiro to show the Buddha head. They were amazed. The waiter hands us the drinks menu, and my 16-year old cousin turns to me to ask "Is there anything in here for us to drink?" I smile and order for mocktails. Pineapple for both of them, and mine i leave to the waiter to concoct. Theirs arrived in Martini glasses. Immediately, i took a sip from my cousin's, called the waiter and asked him if he was sure they were mocktails. Yes, he said. They weren't cocktails. Weird, i thought i tasted something more in hers. Or maybe it was just the cinnamon. "Is it safe for us to drink?", asked the 16-year old again.

The younger one who's 14 years old looked on fascinatedly at the young boys at the other table sipping on Tuborg. Curious, she was. Even about the bar counter in the outdoor section. When she asked me, i told her that that was the place where 'other' beverages were served. She didn't understand, but she didn't push me for an answer either. The older one then turned to me, and said, "This is the first time we've come to a place with a live bar counter". Those were her exact words - live bar counter.

They asked me if i had eaten there, and what i had eaten. Have you eaten shark? Whale? Octopus? Seal? No, but i have eaten mussels and crab and squid, but not here, i replied. With each name that i rattled off, i found them choking on both, laughter and a bit of the mocktail they had sipped.

And so the conversation went on, alternating between grilling me about things i do/eat/learn and enquiring about what people at the other tables were doing. It was a totally new experience for them, and i'm glad i took them there.

On the way back, i was thinking about how my Aunt would react to their evening. I was fully prepared for an earful from her for taking them to 'those kind of places', but i also realised that all these years of my trying out things has been for this precise reason: so i can be fully equipped to understand, protect and guide them when their experiences/experiments go awry in the future. Better i, than a bunch of teenagers, who initiate them into things they themselves have no knowledge of.

I ended the evening with a satisfied smile - seems like all those years of black sheepness and debauchery are finally paying off.

A year of physical injuries, and then some.

So, i've been on an injury spree these last couple of months.

First, i fell on my tush real hard while running across a highly polished marble floor. This was in March.

In April, i burned my hair on Good Friday. Followed by a cigarette burn on my wrist at Athena on Saturday. And another almost two weeks later at Cirrus, on the same spot as the previous burn.

Yesterday, i woke up with a toe sprain. Weird, right? It's true, though. I don't know how it happened but my toe was nice and swollen and stiff as a dead cat. Using that as a reason to work from home sounds lame, but only a fellow toe sprain sufferer can sympathise and agree on how painful it can be.

And then, when i was sitting in the conference room at work this morning, i banged my knee real hard against some metallic object hidden under the table. I can feel and hear the squeaks everytime i rest my hand on my knee cap.

I don't know what message you're giving me, God. But please, can you find a less painful way of doing it?

'Supdates.

1. Hyderabad came down to Bangalore and together, we had a blast.

2. Weekend of Athena, i went mad over Pitbull. I stamped my feet, rapid-jogged on the spot in sheer excitement and screamed my lungs out like a teenage groupie when the DJ played Calle Ocho.

3. I start Spanish classes this Saturday. Verrry excited.

4. I rode to office on the Activa. Twice. Once, even went to Indiranagar 100 Feet Road and back in peak traffic. With the laptop in the front, at my feet. Not comfortable, but i did it without incident. Yippee!

5. Can't say the same for my car. Another accident today. Poor Red, he's gone through way too much. He deserves a break, and some pampering.

6. I burned my hair over the flame of the stove while trying to light a nicotine stick for a friend. Now i have an ugly fringe close to my forehead. No, i won't wear a wig.

7. I'm gymming! Yeaaaaaaay!

8. May 8th is the deadline to loose weight. Ten kilos of it. I don't think i'm even close.

9. Lots of long drives have been happening. Long drives, and good music.

10. I got closure from Boy.

11. We moved houses. Bigger, brighter, roomier. And a terrace all our own. And plennnty of storage space.

12. The one time we get tickets for the IPL, a bomb has to go off in the stadium.

13. Puneet Raj Kumar reminds me of Boy. Very weird, but i can't seem to shake the association off.

14. Testing times at office. Must pull up my socks, or whatever.