Excuse me, I need to see a man about a horse.

Boys and the girls, ladies and my gentleman, I’ve been trying to cut the chord since october, wanting to shut down this little corner of the internet down, sayonara blog buddies etc. I want to withdraw the pieces of my life from the world. Do you get those feelings too? I want to delete my facebook account, and my email id, I want to fall out of touch with people. I don't give a fuck how many pictures you can take holding the camera out with your arm, it doesn’t make me jealous, or envious, I just. don't care, and I don't want it to be an option, I want out. I hate people knowing things about me. But me? I want to know everything about them. I ask the most personal, the most intrusive questions, I want to know everything that's not my business. Point in case, when I know two people are dating, I go read their wall-to-wall.

Since I can't think of much to write in way of a blog post, going to give you some of the what’s spinning right now type of things -

I have a new obsession, a very bourgeoisie one, of cans. I love them, especially the thumbs up, nescafe and other weird juice ones, which have Air/Water listed as one of their ingredients. And straws. Constant sippage.

I is listening to When Life Gives You Lemons You Paint That Shit Gold - Atmosphere, I is rock as true as the rock rolls, but experimenting none the less, little by little, on recommendations mostly. We are moving house again, and yet again my dusty cassette collection has no home, being shuffled from my car to the store room, and I decided today that I’m never going to give it up. Too many teenage type memories. I gave away all my MAD magazines the last time we moved and that shite didn't go down with me. It really depends on what you want in your home, and maybe flimsy black reel is my vinyl.

Been watching Californication. First I loved it, then I hated it - because

• it was nowhere as smart as they made it out to be,
• way to many titties on display,
• increasingly fanciful, ladies just present themselves to Hank boy and he never seeks any of em out
• and making writing out to be so glamourous and shite, all bullshit

It is misogynistic, and the fact that David Duchonvy is in therapy for Sex Addiction makes all the very graphic sex on the show seem a bit more perverse than it would normally, and the jokes are on the women, like entourage (which is unwatchable now) and no man who calls himself a gentleman is one, that should give you a clue but the cast is way too damn good, and they have some insane dialogue inbetween that rockstar fluff.

I love how they talk, like add 'the' before everyone’s name, and ‘itude’ where it doesn't belong..


Anywho, I'm enjoying my post exam couple of days of freedom, though I'm doing pretty much the same shite.

Reading On Beauty - Zadie Smith, long long time coming..and I was honestly surprised by the beginning, was expecting something much much more. Just 100 pages in though, and the author picture is soo hauntingly beautiful and sad and v neck black top with collar bones, what’s not to love? Don't stay tuned, I never follow up.

And now I is off to watch that Benjamin Button bonanza, please go watch Slumdog in a theatre and FORM YOUR OWN OPINION. That will help you get through the fucking press machine flipping out and as always totally losing it’s head.

Word,
That's all for tonight.

You never returned that call

Hello internet people, if there's anyone left that is. Sorry - sorry about being incognito, and even though end of the year cheeriness is nudging me to promise regular posts, am not going to and then might end up actually. But I do come in peace and as an added incentive, have a post. (DUH)

So, Happy Boxing Day : ) Hmm..reminds of me Adrian Mole somehow. So Christmas day come and gone, everyone wearing Santa hats and feeling jolly or something like that. What did I do? Well, bought a cactus from my (ex) school carnival, that's a given, I buy it every year, and it dies before june the next year - though this time I inspected them from below and realised that half of them were burnt/dying already - so felt much better about my plant parenting skills, and hope this one lives as long as me, its quite a fat little bugger. What else? Usually this movie called Mixed Nuts comes on zstudio, (when it used to be called z something else, the exact nomenclature is eluding me right now), Steve Martin, Rita Wilson - madness, hilarious, I used to love, love it, but it no came this year :( and I resisited the urge to download Love Actually, that is going a bit overboard. Ate only junk food all day and wore my candy earrings; also cousin bro came over and for some reason we were 'studying' together (and breakdancing among other things, oh you do not want that visual in your head). Now see, life is definitely better when we're together (credit: Jack Johnson), but how do you get anything done? For example I cannot read, study, write(ha) or watch movies when other people are around - and that is pretty much 90% of my life - eternal paradox yes?

Anyway, saw this movie called The Wackness and just for Ben Kingsley I'd watch it again, about rap/hip-hop in the 90s etc etc, some memorable lines-

(Girl when bonding with the guy, MAJOR moment in the film) - "Dude, I look at the dopeness of things, and you..you look at the wackness."

(Boy confessing love to girl and getting really mad because not being reciprocated) "I love you, I'm not going to lie, It makes me wanna listen to Boys to Men."

Say no more? Got ya (oh but girl is Leah from Juno, so thoda sa immunity she gets)

Speaking of Ben Kingsley, also saw Elegy, which has him and Penelope Cruz, just a heads up boys, several nude shots of her, and extremely good print available online. Topically is so beentheredonethat - old professor, young student, imagine the rest. Thematically, was supposed to be different, voice overs, steady revelation of depth of characters etc. and twist in the end, because elegy right? so mean someone dies - but not who you think it is (wags finger) Though throught the film I just couldn't get over how lovely Penelope was looking, simply gorgeous by any standards, not enough to make me wanna switch sides but as a woman you can go like wow, you are indeed a good specimen, aand..that reminds me of the song - best of you by the foo fighters.

You know readers, I am getting the best of one person, two infact. For closure, V was here and we met up, at his place, and we exchanged movies, and weird book things and it was most wonderful, except after the buzz and elation, I felt empty, because it's over, well and truly and finally, and it's no fun not having someone to like. You know how when you get up in a start in the middle of the night, and you need a thought, a generally pleasant thought to focus on to go back to sleep..well, that lot is vacant now. Oh well, atleast I got the best of him for awhile.

Suppose that makes me "emotionally available" now..bwahahaha.

Stars Hollow Blues

Hello world,

Today is cold day - I decided to not wake up and go to college, an excellent idea as these always turn out to be inspite of the fact that I'd be missing double lectures bla bla - there's also the little thing called winter dressing, see when you leave your home early in the morning it's all cold and windy and you want to wear everything possible; then in the metro, which is centrally heated (and crowded) it gets warm and your sweater begins pricking your back, but by the time you reach university its cold again, and the rickshaw ride is freezing. As the day wears on it gets warmer till you have to take off atleast one layer and once your home, it's cold again but one can wear any old thing. So basically it's a lot of planning and today I wans't upto it, you know I'm kidding when I say things like this right?

So I've been reading Everything is Illuminated, which is interesting to say the least, and writing technique wise brilliant, but even though I'm reading it, not really enjoying it, especially since this guy's a prodigy and every single critic says he's not overrated. I liked his second book better, which moved me tremendously.

Also read Breakfast at Tiffany's which by the waw I had no idea was a novella by Truman Capote, yes of Capote the movie fame. Now that was a fun book, oddly suspenseful, and she (Holly Golightly, the belle of NY) mentions, that Nehru is her type of man. (!!!)

Felt like making brownies today, and went all enthu and all to pull out the cocoa and brown sugar etc, but there was noMaida, which was fine because to be homnest I didn't really feel like baking, I just missed it.

Instead I am eating parle g biscuits which are as good.

More later, ponchos aren't condusive to typing.

Badshaah ke liye badshaah hi

I think everyone should have someone they can get Franny and Zooey for, the implication being that Catcher in the Rye was read, and knowing that the former is so. much. better.

And when it's cold and there's mufflers as an extension of your hair and five colours for your five cold fingers, and ipod shuffles to 'With or Without You' there should be someone who instantly climbs into your head..there's always that one person.

Don't you think?

Four that wanna hold me, two that wanna stone me, one says she's a friend of mine

Hello there folks, I gotta confess that this regular blogger thing is really not for me, I toyed with the idea of abandoning wilderness years but decided against it, because well, it's too much work transferring everything. Also, blogger is a real fuck up, I've been trying to sign in for something like a month now and honestly this whole anonymous thing is getting to be a pain because I have to sign out of my regular id and then re sign in etc. (what? it is work..I heard that!) Anyway, life is peachy and do you know why? Because I was off looking the sphinx in the eye! Yes, can you believe it, this month I travelled to two fabulous countries, Egypt(of the pyraminds fame) and Turkey(full of evil eyes) I have many things to say, but I've been saying them and saying them and now I'm kaput, but I shall show you some pictures for now, and more updates on life and things later. My photography was non existent, because everything was so new and so rush-rush, they are amateur pictures at the best, but just give you'll an idea.

Oh - yesterday the most mind crushing thing happened, I was dragged to see Karz, yes THAT one with Himesh whoever, and it was all haahaaheehee sit in front with rickshawwallahs and hoot and make utter nuisances of ourselves, but all that got exhausted in five minutes, and I swear a part of my brain and eyesight is dead forever.

And strangely utorrent is acting up. Anyone else having this problem? All downloads have crawled down to a non existent speed. Incidentally, saw a couple of good films - there's young@heart, which is the only film/documentary that made me cry, like real fat tears(Kuch Kuch Hota Hain doesn't count) See if you can catch it, camera crew covers and old persons choir, and the whole old age is second childhood kicks in.

And oh! Russell Peters is coming to Delhi. Finally! Not that I'm a particularly big fan of his or anything, but for this first time someone is actually stopping at Delhi and not Bangalore, and the tickets were most overpriced but then think its ok, so we are going! Excitement.

Edit - !@$##$ blogger and my internet connection, will upload pictures asap..on another post.

Pocket full of Sunshine

There are some people who you know, always keep their phone with them and will reply to a message within five minutes, like Kasha; so apart from being my phraand she's also my message buddy.

There are some people who you know check their mail everyday or maybe twice a day and will reply to an email within hours, like Fly, so she's my msn/gmail buddy, apart from being my BFF(private joke.)

Then there are people who read your message but take ages, maybe days to reply; who will let your call ring and ring and then say oh, my phone was flung across the room, etc etc - like me. I'm sick of making excuses and lying and avoiding calls. Guess there are some people who don't always pick up our calls and we have the upper hand with some people who'll call and we can decide not to pick up. Or something...

Anyway, I had a good day today, inspite of 3 traffic jams, THREE. Had a nice long chat with my grandparents and it was one of those days when they were talking about themselves as young people which is always wonderful to hear. Plus I had a full inbox and emails for all over, which made me smiley AND most importabtly, inspite of my dismal overall result, the marksheet which I received today says that indeed I have got 36 out of 38 in the ONE paper I studied for so I'm feeling mighty pleased with myself. (heehee, kaha se kaha)

Also, other stuff which I've been trying to get out of, is sorting itself now, and I can just relax and do my own thing and be with people I actually like and make PLANS, which I'd almost forgotten how to do.

On the movie front, I have been watching almost 2 a day, most recently saw My left Foot, The Prestige, Y Tu Mama Tambein (absolutely lovely even without the several nude scenes), Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, Son of Rambow (the humour of which I totally did not get) and several others.

Besides a threatening to rain, slightly breezy day, nice :) All is right with the world.

Just because I'm losing...

Doesn't mean I'm lost.
Doesn't mean I'll stop.

What is it with the blogosphere these past couple of weeks? It seems like one person lost their nerve and so did everyone else simultaneously. It's a chain reaction with blog-blahness, and suddenly things are either too trivial or too huge to put in here. However abandoned readers fear not, for I am back with..err, vengeance?

So the easiest, let's talk about books. Have several to read at the same time, which is no fun but the most memorable one is Gabriel Garcia Marquez's - My Melancholy Whores. It's a nice, small compact book and fits in your hand nicely, besides it's hardcover which is a plus. I can bet you a huge load of cash that Marquez himself kept a diary where he counted the women he slept with. I mean first Florentino and then this guy. Or if he didn't, he thought about it alot.


Anyway, over the past couple of days I've had long long chats with old friends, and you know what they say, all birds come home to roost. Guess we leave bits of our selves scattered in the past that comes a full circle. They recount all their escpades, sexual and boy related, over the past couple of months, like getting sorta drunk and holding hands with Goan boys who jive. And then, after half an hour of them, it's like what about you? Man oh man am I glad I have no news.

Among friends then, there is that reassurance that yes, we have the same life for tomorrow and the day after and the year after that, and I'm really happy about that - someone has your back you know, who'll give your proxy attendence if you're not in class or pick up your fee form when they get theirs, or order two cups of chai without asking. It sure is nice to have a friend.

Before I met You

It's small things readers, the tiniest of them -

like an extra library card

~like that whole bunch of giggling men hesitating to step on an escalator, and I want those virginities back for myself, and I know, like I've always known, that I'll live somewhere far away from all this.

~if you're not in class, having someone message saying - where are you?

~or driving all the way back home with stoner music on and not being conscious of the fact and when you pull up to park, the spell breaks and you go, how'd I get here?

~using a word, a new cuss word and all of a sudden everyone's using it, dingbats

~remebering oh yes, today is tuesday and there must be a new episode of weeds waiting on isohunt.

~the greet of airconditioned air over your sweat rivulets

above all, food and rest.

Because I know what to take seriously and he's not one of them. It's with birds of the same feather, that I can talk aloud, think aloud and that's when I feel the most natural, at my best. It's when people joke around, put you down, reduce everything to 'bookish' or 'quiet' that I feel vacant, not uncomfortable but irrevocably different from them. Becasue I don't want to explain myself.

I want to put a bandaid over my life. My toe nail came off, and all I had to do was put a plaster on it to press it down and let it just be by itself while the new one grows. That's exactly what I want for my life right now. There is too much going on, too quickly and all this that I'm learning, I might just lose it if I don't sit and write it down, or talk, or consolidate it into an opinion, that becomes mine alone and not something I read somewhere.

For that I need a really sticky plaster.

Z is for Zeppelin Time

This is something I found quite by chance. Basically you post a picture related to the theme - which on this wednesday is Z, and the first thing that popped into my pretty little head was, what time is it? It's Zeppelin time! ( credits: xkcd)

So this is the room with the poster right down there over the hole in the wall which was covered by a wooden plank.

And this one's the close up. Yes I know it's blasphemy to put a Switchfoot picture right above the Led Zep one but in my defence I made this years back!...yea, doesn't count does it?

And that's the other picture which I like a lot, bottom left hand corner, it's a classic, black and white, Page in a teeny sweater and Plant blowing smoke rings, ah to have been William Miller.

Here I Go Again

You can't decide when you have a good time, when you meet new people, where the day takes you. Some folks you establish are interesting but they may or may not become your friends and that's when I wonder, what do people think of me? That's the only time I'm conscious that, you know, I'm not a vampire and I must have a reflection. Or do I?

So I had this nice morning planned, would wake up, go for a swim, get a haircut and then go meet my lovely friends Shai and Fly. However, due to unforseen circumstances, mainly my stupid ass body sleeping through several alarms, I was fast asleep at the time I was supposed to meet them and had to hurry, hurry, rush, rush as usual. Fuck I hate that, maybe its an inborn rebellion to my fauji-precision-clockwork genes, but I simply cannot be someplace on time. Thing is in the morning, every second counts, and after dinner, one hour here or there makes no difference. Sure you owls would agree.

Anyway, day still went off well. Lunch was good, I love my friends and I also love being alone and sometimes in life you get a perfect balance, and today was such a day. Madonna(because they have the same teeth) also joined us, and he and me have this mutual appreaciation society thing going, we both say nice things about each other and refrain from the other stuff, because he's one of those people that you have obvious and huge differences of opinion with, but that's ok, he is he and I am me, and in the end, I know I can count on him, and I know I'll totally come through for him, if need be and vice versa.

(Oh, but Rohan, no same teeth anymore! :D)

Also, maanged to get my haircut. While coolio dude cut away, in the parlour, there was a lady/woman getting ready for her wedding, full bridal make up, hairdo etc. and sure, she was pretty, with a busty magenta top, red cartoon nails(not even vampish) with rotting brown mehendi (haai, haai) and her friends were fluttering around her, and I'm thinking the last thing I want to do on my wedding day is spend hours in a beauty parluor - you know?

I'm not a big one for days, like I hate birthdays, not because I'm emo or anything, I just hate all the hoo haah and pressure to do something on that day. So what would I do? Let's see, I'd like to wake up without an alarm clock, with sun on my face, and immediately have something chocolate. Then, hit the pool, you know those whole body floats? Yea, float on the water, sun myself, nap whatever, have something to read, this I'll have to plan very carefully, definitely not the newspaper, because I'm sure for the rest of life I'll remember, on page 3 the mcd head something said something about potholes. I'm kooky that way.

When I'm all deliciously wet and the sun is drying the water drops off, have fresh watermelon and grape juice, french fries(oily not deep fried) and maybe chicken-mayo-capsicum sandwiches. Then a rollercoater ride, or several, and paint ball and in the evening we can dress up and go somehwere nice, or do whatever he wants to. But avoid people at all costs. I'd love for my parents to have a big party in their house, with the lawn and fairy lights and everyone can 'congratulate the happy couple' but maybe sometime the week after.

What about you guys?

Incidentally, downloaded lotsa 80s love songs, just because, and have been blasting Can't Fight This feeling(REO Speedwagon), Whitesnake, The Bangles, Cherish (Kool and the Gang) , Dangelo and The Temptaions. heehee, I've also always had this neighbour thing. Like in the previous house we lived in, it was two floors, downstairs people had a lawn and we got a terrace, and this dude, Jha, used to make all his phone conversations from the garden, he'd smoke, talk loudly, and scratch his you-know-what when he thought no one was watching(ewwww I know.) My study table was right next to his window and trust me when I tell you I knew EVERYTHING going on in his life, no kidding, from his friends to his hassles with his parents, to the girlfriend to his job(pilot, waddya expect).

There was a point to this..oh yeah, so like I knew everything about Jha without him having any idea, I have this fantasy that somebodys always listening to the music I play. Almost like I DJ for some invisible folk down below. Don't get me wrong, I play for myself, but maybe someone will have huge overlapping tastes and come searching for my door, and we can hangout and burn CDs for each other and stuff.

Hmm..too many movies.

Steady Hands Take The Wheel

It was my market than our market. I like how some things that were mine, we now share, including friends. Baristas and neighbourhood store owners who earlier recognised me, not recognise him as well. Even the guy who checks the air in the tyres at the petrol pump.

We drive by that market, everyday now, becasue to get to any arterial place really, crossing that choked road is the only way out.

There’s a dressed up crowd that hangs around the pubs and outside the theatre. Girls with their hair in sheets below their shoulders, with outfits to match their bags, who wear pin pointy boots no matter what the season. Guys wearing those t-shirts you get, you know? the ones that have a skin coloured extension of cloth under the noraml t-shirt to give the impression that the entire arm is tattooed? Flashing 10 rupee diamond studs in their ears and caked hair on their head.

Further back, beneath the tree and the circular cemented area, next to the cigarette stalls where I go to get polo, is a different sort of crowd. The girls have backpacks and is it just me or is their hair curlier? Tied up carelessly or the tangles let loose, glinting nose pins, dangling silver earrings, wearing washed out cotton kurtas, or maybe a black band t-shirt with a matching belt. They chat placidly, smoke comfortably and laugh occasionally.

Me, I don’t dress up, am a books and chai kinda girl, sure I’d love a bar with loud music as much as the next person, but tis just not my thing...yet. I will have shots and give in and dance to Usher and wear a Penny Lane faux-fur coat with a hoodie and pub hop. Someday, those times will come for me.

What a granny, he says, but he’s not much better.

At the front of the market, near the car park, boys and girls get out of big cars, their school bags stuffed with their uniforms and they're so self conscious of their outfit; it's not fair, to make them choose that one t-shirt that represents them the most, to wear on the day their exams get over and they hangout.

And African men, lots and lots of young African men, are they sons of diplomats then or sons of housekeepers? Does it matter? Which countries are they from, I wonder as I lock eyes with every one of them, Mozambique?(Maputo, my brain automatically says) Somalia? (Mogadishu) Niger?( Niamey) Guinea Bissau or The Guinea? Mali or Mauritania or indeed Malawi? Congo or the Democratic Republic of Congo? The Gold Coast or the Ivory Coast? Zambia or Zaire, now the infamous Central African Republic. Tunisisa or Tanzania? Maybe Morocco, though I doubt it.

I’m sure I’ll have tonnes of things to say to them, if we get past the accent, that mammoth effort of a simple smile and hello. It doesn't matter that we're on the same sidewalk, because their continent travels with them. That's the size of the distance between us.

The odds that one of them has just finished reading Franny and Zooey like I have, and listed down the family tree – Seymour, Buddy, Boo Boo, the twins (Walt and Waker), Zachary (Zooey) and Franny in their notebooks..How high is that possibility?

We shall never know, because we can cross each other several times, but I'm just driving past, sitting passenger to steady hands on the wheel.

Go Rafa, Espania - ole ole ole!

Right, excuzi for the double post but, I am reeling right now with stuff to say.

What a final, this is why we love tennis, this is why people spend hours on hours practising and what champions. Delirious.

So as I was happily watching the match(wimbledon final - Rafael Nadal vs. Roger Federer for those who're not so into it) with Rafa 2 sets up, he(Shaan) really sweetly calls and starts talking about the match, no hi hello. For a once-in-a-month chat friend it's quite nice that he knows, just assumes that I will (duh) be watching the game, and it's one of those moments when we're talking and I can hear the shouting and TV ads on his end of the line and in my living room as well. It's also ironical because there's no signal in the TV room and Il'l have to get up and go to the balcony to talk to him and he's like tie break and I'm like oh fuck no, call you back.. Its nice that he thinks of me you know? And its a foolproof thing, if you want to talk to a guy, follow the club he loves or watch the match he's watching.

Anyway, weird thing - both Rafas Uncle Tony and Mirka(Fed's gf) were sitting in same box. So both the players keep looking up at the same box and when Rafa gets an edge, Uncle gets up and starts yelling and when Fed wins a point, Mirka starts thumping the box and you can almost hear Tony cursing at the back. And did anyone notice a most Jude Law like person sitting on Mirkas eft? Was confused and then I spot Gwen (Stefani) on his left and look, its Gwen and Gavin! (oh man how I love Bush. Infact, first heard of the band, waaay before the president. ) Gavin was so into the game and Gwen was just like, 5 hours of my life, there they go, never to return. Mirka too, was really feeling it; usually she sits tight lipped (can't help it if the girl has thin lips) but she was all cringing and stuff and and when I saw her, I was like come on Rafa, you can't let Mirka take out her digi cam and click pictures of Roger making out with the trophy, again. (ok, mean, but you understand right, this moment has been five long, long years in the making.)

Also, just when Rafa is taking the lead, inching closer to championship point, and he can feel it, and the crowd feels it and you can feel it and you look at Federer's face and it's so rondu and for half a second you feel bad for him and then he goes and hits a winner, and you're like no, no Rafa, just wrap it up, close the deal, COME ON. And when Rafa got the break 8-7, Venus who was watching stood up and started clapping and I'm sitting stock still becasue I have this dumb jinx idea that if I move, it'll change the tides. 6-4, 6-4, 6-7, 6-7, 9-7, my god, what a match.

But Rafa won! And because the match went on so long, someone must have politely mumbled in Prince Philip's ear to keep it short, and so he didn't talk to any of the ball boys/girls forming the corridor as he usually does. 2 years back when he slaughtered Andy, he chatted with the ball girl for a good 5 minutes, the match was SUCH a no show, got over in like an hour and a half or something.

Also, I love the woman who interviews them after the ceremony, though this time she didn't address his highness Prince Philip, maybe cause the Prince and Princess of Spain where there was well? Who knows about the delicate matters of royal protocol? Regardless of the question she asks them, both of them say the same thing, first answer - say something funnyish, or rather self effacing, they'll laugh anyways and acknowledge the crowd. Second answer - say what a fantastic player your opponent was, how deserving, which seems all jolly but it's actually rubbing it in. Trust me.

And like the humble guy Federer is he starts taking a lap of honour, and everyone's like wtf? Sit quietly while Rafa does that. One thing though, if Fed's a rondu winner, he's a very graceful loser, that you have to hand to him. He tried very hard not to cry and he managed.

What a night. Whew, winding down slowly..

Take it, take another little piece of my heart.

My sister's birthday is coming and it's as terrific an opportunity as any other to buy books which I want to read and gift wrap for her. Lucky we more or less read the same stuff or rather I bulldoze her into reading what I recommend. Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld, fantastic people, nice little book I stumbled on thanks to fly and I think there's something in its awkwardness that exists in all of us, especially if we dish out a blog post every week or so.

While planning her party, we decided on Chinese food which somehow brought back a memory of this store in Pune from where we'd get Chinese take away frood. I used to be fascinated by this place, it wasn't a restaurant in a market, it was just a take away shop literally in the middle of nowhere. It was so noisy and steamy and small and they'd take your order and pin it up on a rope and it would be ready robotically in minutes. So numbskullsister and me would play 'takeaway' with our puzzle pieces and mix them around in a tokri. The only plausible explanation for a tokri in our house I think could be because we were living in Maharashtra after all. (egad, images of kim sharma as a fisherwoman are coming to me after those 5 horrifying minutes of some random movie which permanently and irrevocably burned some of my brain cells.)

Also donated blood today! Yee haw, did it for the cool red tshirt we all know, and while I was lying there pumping my fist tiredly instead of feeling righteous as I should have, I was like dude, I just have a needle in my arm, someone who needs this is going to have all their bones smashed in . Count your blessings, name them one by one, thank the Lord for what he has done, kept playing in my head.

On a crankier note though, I am being forced to go out to my mothers friends house for dinner. She has this daughter whose a couple of years older than me, looks and dresses like a model, and has had sex several times with several different boys and was caught in school with her bra undone, which is public knowledge to everyone except apparently our mothers and mum dearest insists she's such a nice girl, I should try and be friends with her. Fuck, glad they're all so in sync. I'm sorry, not that there's anything wrong with her but some people I just can't take seriosuly, and she's one of them.

Something I'm really beginning to believe in though is All In Good Time, truly, life eventually calms itself down and things happen in their own time. When I was in middle school, in Bangalore, I always always wanted to become a senior prefect, not head girl becasue that was so passe but house captain, because that meant something, and I loved my house captain, she was so cool man, she'd run the captains relay on sports day, and march with the house flag. She'd sit on the steps of the canteen (for seniors only) with all these boys and I'd always wonder which one she liked. She'd come to my class and ask for me and badger me into taking part in elocution or something which I gladly did for her. It was so cool the way they'd stay back after shcool, and make those charts and practice for house competitions and stuff, and the 11th and 12thies were allowed to come on their bikes and so casually afterwards they'd zip off to some place to eat.

I left though, and I had no idea untill I was away how fucking impressionable I'd been. I got to be house captain of another school though and it meant shite, really it meant nada to me, which is not as awful as it sounds, it just was that way.

*Remember those shiny coloured Add-Gel pens in 1999? They were such a rage and I had a purple one and wrote LP in big bold letters on my arm and walked all over school one day. At band practice after school, Music Captain comes in and after he does his 'duty' and yells at us for not practising hard or long enough, he hangs around to chat and he says, so you're all into heavy rock and metal and all? and I'm like no ya, just Linkin Park, he's like what's the name of their album. FUck! I didnt know, lol, but anyway, Dad took me on a sunday, to music world I think, not the (then) new Planet M on Brigade Road, and I bought Just Push Play (Aerosmith) and Hybrid Theory and on the way back in the car, dad suggested that I play the tapes, and I slowly, delaying it as much as possible, unwrap the flimsy plastic wrapping and Papercut starts up..the sun goes down, I feel the light betray me, I hastily ejected and put aerosmith in which was no better, but thankfully we reached back because then you could actaully drive around in Bangalore and reach places in minutes not hours. Atleast it wasn't Public Service Announcement on the Marshall Mathers LP.

So into Jaded was I that when we came to Delhi on our summer holiday, on the customary annual visit to Dilli Haat, instead of yet another name necklace, I had jaded written with those alphabet beads, and Dad says do you even know what it means? I didn't.

Man, I was quite the emo kid. Today though, I'm somehow very happy to be me.

Glory Days, pass me by.

Life is peachy folks, spiffy, bathed in sun streaming in through the clouds. Reminds me of that last month of school before the summer holidays, when I was 11 or something. For all my life and all of hers, my mother has worked and I've always reached home before she has, as in there was never a reception committee waiting at the bus stop like other kids, thangod. That summer though, she'd taken a month off, and when I'd get home, my icky uniform shirt stuck to my back with sweat, my heavy tearing bag full of useless books that I'd carry around including a fat dictionary, my hair all puffed up and hairband dangling along to one side, she'd answer the door.

The house would be cool for starters, the curtains would be drawn against the afternon sunlight and mum would give us first cold water, then food, which we'd actually sit at the table and have and not in front of the TV. Then watermelon, and an afternoon nap after. Ah, the all-is-right-with-the-world feeling.

In the holidays, she'd leave before we were awake, and when I did get up and go to brush my teeth, I'd see a big fat lipstick mark on my cheek, because you know, she kissed us goodbye.

Anway, joy is hibernating. It's staying at home and watching three seasons of weeds in a row. Fantastic I tell you. An american TV show you never knew existed and turns out to be so goddamn clever. That my friends is utopia, with no one bothering me, and becasue I'm only listening to these characters smack talking, in my head I start talking like them. And when I meet people in real life I can't think of anything to say to them except, um...I'm watching Weeds.

Right so some guys are just plain sexy, they have this charm that you can't define, can't catch or bottle, like Sloan you know, on Greys Anatomy, very irrestible, even when they aren't saying anything, you just keep looking a them and Justin Kirk (or Andy on Weeds) is one such fellow.

What else? Cooking Chocolate. That's the thing to eat. As mentioned earlier, nada oven, nada baking, so all supplies are going into tummy as raw material. Personally, I think cooking choclate is the real stuff, far superior than any wrapped thing I've had, tis not too sweet, plus its a proper huge slab and I've been gnawing away at it.

Favourite line these days - "that's a bit too populist for my taste." Speaking of which was watching 'left of centre' on VH1 which is supposed to be the original sidestream stuff, I hardly think Nine Inch Nails or Kasabian can be called offbeat, LCD soundsystem maybe. Besides everyone knows that them emo and indie kids are making the most money now.


In parting, I like the word exponential, not in maths(idiotic exponential differetiation) but like exponential growth in blog traffic. hee :D

This years love had better last

Sometimes you get goosebumps about just being alive, and I want to love you, Nothing Man.~Caught a bolt of lightning, cursed the day he let it go.~ Isn't it something? It is Eddie. How can it not be..

Hmm, exhausted is the word I'm looking for. So much work, so many things to do, usually life is happiest when I'm busy but I haven't got 8 hours of sleep in a row in about a month now. At the risk of sounding like a CPM politburo member, the "honeymoon" period with my blog is definitely over.

Met aforementioned friend, such a riot I tell you, some people are just funny, and I got lots and lots of american frat movies with naked boobies and lewd jokes off him, Superbad(ha-HA-Ha-ha), Oldschool, Van Wilder, Eurotrip, Girl Next Door, Blow...you get the gist.

Yes, Andy is engaged. Joy, normally I'd be happy but do you know how he met her? He saw her picture in a Sports Illustrated isssue and had his agent track her down. What a fucking cliche, its like boning your secretary. Gah. As fly says, it's like he picked her out of a catalogue. I mean imagine the call she must've got, hi, erm, there's this guy, who's sorta famous and a little rich and he wants to be in your pants. Sure, that's my twenties taken care of.

Also have become friends with that new boy at work place, even though he's a kid and all, we're pals now. Ha, dropped him to his hindi class today, these firangis types I tell you. Laughed about superbad stuff, and duh, Celtics won(heehaw) and he was all Lakers, na huh, there time had come, it was going to be Celtics, everyone knew that all along.

Read Wild Sheep Chase (Haruki Murakami,) and can definitely see why he's so popular. The story is literally about sheep and you're reading along thinking, man, a whole book about sheep, this should be weird, but it so isn't.

Something I've been meaning to put up here, I can't stress the importance of Zeitgeist enough, seriously folks, go watch it. Tis this really radical left wing documentary type thing, and even if you're skeptical and don't believe everything, STILL, it's stuff that we just have to know, and think about.

come back and haunt me, follow me home

So the boss type person at the NGO thing is leaving for good. Tis funny, but in this one week I think I know everything there is to know about him, he's jut one of those people. I was hanging around on my first day, not sure of what to do exactly, no one was taking any notice of me, I pulled out my book cautiously but as I sat vacant reading, he took me under his wing and boy, did I do a lot of work for him. He alternated between calling me M'am and bachoo, kaam ho raha hai m'am? yea yea, and aise nahi bachoo, ho hum ok. He'd make tea for us and he took a sip from my mug by mistake once and ever since then he goes, don't drink my tea. And he cracks lame jokes like;
he(nonchalantly while filling a form) what's the date today?
me: date,
he: aaj birthday hai..
me: whose?
he: hoga kisi kaa..
/guffaw.

Weird, don't think I'll forget this dude in a long while, considering I might never have met him.

So now I'm working on something else and heard that this guy from Singapore was coming down to also volunteer on the same thing and I'd decided I'd have a crush on him BUT he turned out to be a nanha munha school going baccha who likes Akon. Hovering friend said we've become grannies. Indeed.

Also, you know how to get everyone to agree to YOUR plan, like the place you want to go and the movie you want to see, esp when it's one of those impromptu things? Me has the gaadi, we're going ____, I say and everyone sits down meekly in the car. ~power <3>

Sometimes, a friendship is not equal, and with this one person I just know that I was a better friend to him than he ever was or can be to me. I listened dude to loads and loads of neurotic, egoistic stuff and said lots of nice stuff which I actually meant and prepped him up and anticipated his moods and didn't gloat when I beat him by a long shot even though he sat on my head in the rare ocassion(ahem) that me got two marks more than me. He said used to say I was his good luck charm...Don't know what happened to that really, classic case of Drifted Apart, but somehow I feel like there's something incomplete there, like when you give more than you get, the bank balances don't tally and the ledger can't be closed.

Moribund similies aside, his role in my life is not quite done it seems. I shall find out I meet him to cough:: take his insane TV show collection ::cough hang out and other such.

And now he's gone and seen Chester in flesh and blood, that's the ONLY thing that rankles me up. Say what you want about LP, I loved them and howdya manage solving maths sums without Hybrid Theory or Minutes to Midnight?

and you know the lyrics to In the End so don't pretend otherwise.

The 3 mistakes of my life

Wokay, The 3 Mistakes of my Life happened to be lying around and I picked it up to read/flip through. Little did I know that it would give me so, so much joy.

Right, so this dude (Bhagat) is the most loved, most read, best selling vagera vagera author of this country, but what’s more and here I quote from the blurb - “Seen more as voice of a generation than just an author, this IIT/IIM-A graduate is making India read like never before.”

Whew, that’s pretty huge for one guy no?

And this time, Bhagat’s writing about sex yo! No kidding.

An excerpt: ~

************************************************************************************
We slid under the water tank and sat on the floor. She had brought six pink cushions and a rug. ‘I brought them from my room, so we can have a little party here,’ she said and passed a couple to me. Under the cushions, she had a stereo.

‘Music?’ she said, her face pretty as a song.
I nodded.
‘I’ll put on Boyzone, my favourite,’ she said.
I took out the packet of eighteen candles that came with the cake.
‘Let’s light all of them,’ she said.
I wanted to go switch on the terrace light as it had become dark.
‘Let it be,’ she said and pulled my hand as she lit the eighteenth candle.
‘What if someone comes?’
‘Both my parents have bad knees. They never climb up to the terrace. And Ish well there is a match on.’...

A song called ‘No Matter What’ started to play. Like with all romantic songs, the lyrics seemed tailor-made for us.

No matter what they tell us
No matter what they do
No matter what they teach us
What we believe is true

She kissed me like she never had before...her hands came to my shoulders and under my shirt.

I can’t deny what I believe
I can’t be what I’m not
I know this love’s forever
That’s all that matters now

...the music didn’t stop and neither did we.


************************************************************************************

And these two go on to lose their virginity.

Hang on, no I mean hold up, stop the traffic people, boy freaking zone??? Are you kidding me? And this is set in November 2001. 2001 for crying out loud, if it was Slim Shady or Hybrid Theory or even that horrible J. Lo it would be understandable. 2001 is so backstreet boys, even westlife, even Ronan Keating! Because if I remember correctly, Boyzone were broken up then and Ronan was going all I love it when we do what we do blah blah.

But nobody, I mean nobody was listening to Boyzone in 2001, 1995 maybe but NOT 2001.

Diversion, remember watching MTV Select at 4, then Nikhil still looked slightly human and immediately after, MTV Most Wanted in which Shenaz would very sweetly read out those big fancy letters. LAME. But I used to watch both religiously and there was a lot of talk among the bsb(backstreetboys) legions in my class to make a big card and send it to her and but ofcourse request Quit Playing Games, like it didn't play every freaking hour anyway.

Anyway, dude(Chetan), say and write what you want, but a book published in 2008, playing up on the youth factor simple cannot have 2 ‘young’ people having sex to a boyzone song. That’s all I’m saying.

It's been such a lovely holiday, there's nothing funny left to say

~Life is a highway, I wanna ride it, all night long~

Everyone knows, a holiday is all about the road, driving through is the best part and stopping for chai on the highway every hour or so.

~ you want it, you got it forever~

People say - mountains or sea? I say anywhere where the waters at. The river is what makes it all happen but I gotta tell ya, the Beas is one tenth of what it used to be. This was the river of my childhood, the first time I saw fast furious water so massive that it was crazy daunting. Now it's a tiny trickle.

~Oh how I long to be, Homeward Bound, Home - where my music's playing~

Man, it is so good to be back home. To know that ok if I put the geyser on for 10 minutes the water will be exactly this hot. To know what your rajma is going to taste like. To have my twice a day glass of milk, which I don't think I'll ever give up no matter how old I get. My homepage and sites signed into, and ofcourse, Buddy who went a bit spastic.

Anyway as far as photography goes, this trip was fail, but since digis make photogos of us all, here's some pics. They're all mostly male, mostly single(hehe) but I swear it wasn't intentional.

Read The Buddha Of Suburbia by Hanif Kureishi, jeez watay fantastic book. The cover put me off initially, becasue it's so freaking obvious, black hand, white orchid flower, gah - metaphor or what I dunno. Anyway, its published in 1990 which is ages back and I thought I wouldn't get the humour and references, but it's set in the 70s so in a way it's topical forever. Karim is an awesome person to hang out with, he's funny and very I-am-what-I-am, a drifter and the worst of the lot and everything that happens to him is utterly belivable, you're actually simply travelling with him.


Also finished the famous Bioscope Man..hmm:thoughtful: Didn't really get that one though, have for now put in my must-read-again pile, becasue I'm sure there's something in there..

Tomorrow's Flys birthday so hafta go wrap her gift, plus I'm writing her a story(don't ask) and have been writing this post for ages..and limewire's almost done with a grey's anatomy episode.

Damn, it's good to be back.

The Bioscope Man

Nope, not a song title - tis a book title for a change.

GuesswhatGuesswhatGuesswhat? Generally the other day (Thursday)I was reading the paper, and Indrajit Hazra had reviewed Jack Johnson's new(ish) album and it wasn't a very favourable one. Now I'm not that into the guy(Jack), but as it happens when you have the whole day infront of you and you read the paper first thing in the morning, I got all charged up and wrote him an email.

Now I've been following this guy(Hazra) for years and I always thought he was just so damn cool - and when it came to music, his reviews were actually worth reading. He's funny and wry and also very intelligent. As for his column Red Herring, the tone and languge is totally free falling, I mean you ask anyone about him - they'll be like oh yeah, he's having a ball writing what he wants. Mostly I like his column, occasionally I don't but that's ok. Karan Thapar is aiye aiye aiye - pretentious to the hilt. What with his 'Pertie' and 'Did I start the Rahul Gandhi as PM controversy?' That way Jug Suraiya has no hangups - he's very no-water-in-gurgaon, stray-dogs-folowing-me, Dear ol Bunny etc. etc.

Anyway, he emailed back!!!

Jeez, I was SO excited because you know when you're sitting around and chatting with friends and unexpectedly the conversation goes on to life affirming turf and you talk about really huge stuff like life and what you want and the kind of person you like etc etc - he's exactly the kind of person I would fall for. He was super nice and chatty, replied back the very same day and even recommended a song! AND, he told me his book was out tomorrow(that is yesterday, friday.)

So - so, just because he , himself had told me, I went and bought it - first day first show or something like that. I mean how many times do you get to read a book, that the author himself has told ya to go read it.

As far as the book itself goes, this is going to sound mean, but it's not a bad as I thought it would be. Yes it is very bengali but it's about silent cinema which is pretty specific - so you really need to know what you're talking about. I'm not too far into it right now. He's just laying the ground with the family and pre partition, and taking on an era which already has so much fantastic literature to chronicle it must be a bit unnerving but till now, he's managed quite well.

Also, I like his last acknowledgement - "And everything boils down to Diya. I'm still trying to impress her." Which Diya person?! I thought he was notoriously single? Anyway, that was kinda sweet, and don't see no reason why this lady shouldn't be impressed.

Onto other stuff, I'll be off tomorrow and I'm actually pulling out Jackets and woollens muhahahaha, what was that? 45 degrees in Delhi did you say? I'll maybe write a post from some internet shack in the mountains just for the novelty sake, otherwise I'll see ya all in 1974. Oh we're not on tour with Stillwater? Next week then!

*Hope you never Love in vain and in my heart you'll remain, Forever Young.

Is someone getting thebestthebestthebestthebest of you?

Aieyaieyaie, the ides of May are here and didn't even notice, it's not been a very good week for the world has it, what with the cyclone in Burma killing more people than my head can understand to count, and the Jaipur thing, and the earthquake in China. Mostly this stuff doesn't affect one, like keep the TV off for a couple of days and don't read the paper, you wouldn't even know. And even if you do know, it's just a shake of the head and tsk tsk, but it's been prickling me, maybe I have too much time on my hands and I'm thinking of all the things I should've done and how at the end of the day - I don't have a shred of integrity left - my internet usage being a direct example.

Anyway, onto happier stuff, Two Caravans was excellent, a book I'd dare to recommend, makes light of really serious heartbreaking stuff and you're laughing all the way till you realise - dude this is no laughing matter. It's also a little bit of a love story, which is very well written and has plenty of awww moments.

Found The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, which I had been looking for everywhere. I'd heard so-so much about it and I'd keep asking for it and they'd go Oscar Wilde?, no no Wao, as in Wow. But the thing is, I don't like it that much and I'm well into it by now. The TIME review says it's an immigrant family saga for people who don't read immigrant-family sagas, know what? I'm a person who does like to read family sags, infact that was my favourite genre from 2003-06. So, it's language is very street, piece of ass and nigger and all that, sure there's art in there, just missing it, reminded me of Londonstani - that book which was written in sms language by that punju dude - Gautam Malkani, kiddah bro and what not. Also there's these side notes which are quite funny and super detailed about stuff that went on unger Trujillo's rule in the Dominican Republic which are insightful but so bloody long that you lose the thread of the nararative.

Edit - Just kept reading and before I knew it the book was finished and every single character had won me over, so guess they were right after all. Though I must point out that throughout the book you're wondering why Oscar dies, because of A. the title, 'brief' life but also B. there are plenty of referneces in the book, like Oscar did this in his last few days, after Oscar died etc etc.

So there's a suicide attempt, which is written in real time so you think this is it, but no, he survives. Then there's a bashing my the love of his life's boyfriend and you think, THIS is it - he dies for love, but no, and then it sort of dwindles into predictability that last bit, because he comes back for the love he couldn't have and quite literally walks to his death because he knows and we know, the boyfriend's going to knock him out anytime and he does just that. But, he gets what he wanted, to be loved by a woman and ofcuorse, the sex for the first and last time in his life.

Ha, that was the only thing that I wasn't fully convinced about, but other than that, glad I read it. For starters I knew jack nothing about the DR, except for its capital. Didn't even know there was a dictator called Trujillo.

Anyway, enough book talk, today I have just been going from one Vet to another, because Buddy's due for his deworming injections etc etc. Plus, we're all off to Manali next week and we need to figure out where he's going to stay. Usually my grandparents oblige, but this time they're being a bit fussy. So tomorrow we're going to their place to try and patao them.

Wish me luck.