Satisfied by what’s on my plate…

Last month I picked up two books from the Strand Sale - having bought two design books for my brother, I found my budget compromised for a second time that weekend! So I played “In-Pin-Safety-Pin” and brought down the books in my own shopping cart from ten to two.

I’m happy with my final choice, for not only did these books satisfy my rather finicky literary tastes and held me mesmerized for as long as I had the book in my hand, but also had me returning to the book as soon as I could, to see it to its denouement. Having finished both of them, I’ve posted reviews on Literary Mosaic –

Bluebeard’s Egg –Margaret Atwood
Lord of the Flies – William Golding

I’ve gone back to my collection of short stories by Rabindranath Tagore, having reclaimed it from my bhabhi and am making my way through it slowly and surely, despite the rather tragic endings to all the stories and Tagore’s tendancy to portray most women as either nagging housewives or sacrificial victims of society. The Madonna-Whore dichotomy quite annoys me…

Top 5 Songs of the Moment:

1. Have a Nice Day – Bon Jovi :-)
2. Gin-Soaked Boy - Divine Comedy
3. Come Get Some – Rooster
4. Suddenly I see - KT Tunstall
5. Inch’Allah – MC Solaar

The Weekend That Was...

Cut to Friday morning. N.M. Wadia Cardiac Center, Jehangir Hospital, Pune. After an hour long wait for the cardiologist to come out of an emergency procedure, my parents went into his cabin while I waited outside. And all of a sudden, I was cold - not cold like when you go numb, but cold like you suddenly woke up and realised how cold it was outside. Cold with fear.

Waiting outside, I was swamped with images from a few years back. January 2002 - my mother had a near-fatal heart-attack. Subsequent angioplasty showed numerous blockages going upto 90% - I didn't need doctors to tell me that if my father hadn't gone to work late that day, I would have lost her. She had a bypass in February.
April 2003 - my father had a seizure at 4 a.m. A cholestrol deposit in his neck vein had broken loose and travelled upto his brain. Immediate diagnosis of the problem, medication and diet control brought the problem into control and all the reports back to normal. But not before he spent months regaining control of his fine motor actions and slurred speech.
That year was perhaps the hardest year for me - waking up to my parent's mortality, having to bid adieu to a close friend who was there for me everytime I was low, coming face to face with the hypocricy of my friends, watching some of my most cherished relationships crack and have to go through the motions of life like nothing had happened. The saving graces were my studies - I learnt to drown myself in them and sought refuge in those notes. And ofcourse, another friend, who has since become my closest friend.

Sitting outside the cardiologist's cabin on Friday morning, brought back those fears again. An abnormality in my father's ECG had brought us there...and I sat there praying that it would be just that. A slight abnormality, with no reason to worry. It seems God does exist, for the problem wasn't serious.

I'm still in the process of formulating my note of gratitude to whoever it is who holds the strings of our life.

Friday was followed by Saturday - a day that was supposed to be spent watching a movie, catching a lazy lunch with my Pune-pal and meet up with Phal who was in town for the day...that's what it was supposed to be! It ended up going down the drain in a sudden copywriting assignment - which meant meeting the client and working on it all day, and then taking the work home. (That day taught me alot - no I'm not talking about professionalism and how to work efficiently and quickly - I don't need to learn that. It taught me that there are people out there who need to learn these things, but yet don't hesitate to make you feel like the inexperienced, immature fool just to ensure that their egos aren't hurt. It also re-affirmed the fact that I had taken the right decision by not plunging head-first into the world of advertising/copywriting/journalism. I don't think I'm cut out for it...not the least bit. Academics it is for me...and crossing my fingers it all falls into place. Insha Allah!)

Sunday disappeared in errands and chores - and then came Monday. Another friend happened to be in town, but clashing schedules and my location across the city (not to mention the non-existent roads eading the way out of my area) ensured that I couldn't meet her! :-( NOT fair...

Well that was my weekend - stressful, agonising, busy. How was your weekend?

On Literary Tastes

Aristera blogged about about the authors he doesn't like.He threw names at random at his readers.

"naipaul, rushdie, agatha Christie, amitav ghosh, rohinton mistry, mahasweta devi, Sylvia plath, yann martel/mitzel (booker winner for ‘life of pi’….ughs!), most Russians (Tolstoy, dostovsky, kafka). "

I don't think there are any authors I particularly dislike - despite my complete lack of comprehension over the success (commercial and otherwise) of certain books. I never got around to developing a taste for the genre of science fiction, or for that matter fantasy. The day you see me reading a Tolkiens, or a J.K.Rowling without it being stuffed down my throat will be the day the sun rose from the west.

To each his own is my firm belief on the subject. The world as we know it is a wildly frothing mass of heterogeniety; so how can literary tastes be uniform? I hate it when people force their literary tastes on me (much as I hate it when culinary/fashion-related/personal tastes are thrust on me) and I've developed a certain sensitivity towards other's reading likes and dislikes. Which is why I find myself hesitating to gift books these days - specially since most of my friends have rather different likes/dislikes from my own. a book lying neglected, unread is worse than a book not gifted.(Does that make any sense? Ah well that's just me, the queen of convoluted logic.)

P.S. Incidentally I added a couple of blogs to my blogroll this week - I highly recommend Aristera Says (there is a definite pleasure in promoting a friend's blog)

P.P.S Literary Mosaic complained of step-motherly treatment; I've taken steps to dispel the ridiculous notion ;-)

Flooded...

A pattern has developed over the last few days - I wake up to a nice enough morning - dew on the grass in the lawn opposite my building, the road vaguely wet, but mostly dry, a gentle breeze blowing my curtains aside to let the morning light filter into my room. It gets hot later in the day; infact it's quite unbearably hot. And then come the clouds blowing in from the North East and within an hour the sky has gone from azure to grey. Torrential rains follow, the strong winds blowing in from the East...an hour later everything is thoroughly drenched.

And so it was on Saturday evening that my mother and I got down on our way to run some errands. A neighbour warned us to venture out cautiously since many roads were getting flooded. Dismissing her statements as pure exaggeration we got into out car and asked the chauffeur to take us to the Supermarket - we did cross this patch of water around 2 ft deep, but that patch gets water-logged with the slightest of rains so didn't give it any thought. Little did we know, that half and hour later my brother would call asking us not to even try heading home, but to head over to my uncle's place instead. As he was approaching our society, he saw a huge mass of water gushing down the slope towards him and had the quickness of mind to turn quickly onto a slightly elevated ground and park the car there. Wise, for the cars behind him got stuck in 4 ft water in their attempt to beat the water. We finished our chores and headed to my uncle's place and my father also joined us there - and there we stayed till the 5 ft deep water receded. My brother waited outside for nearly 2 hours, then finally gave up and waded towards our building in waist-deep water....apparently Manjari Meadows which is higher up than Mundhwa got flooded and so the people broke down walls there to allow the accumulated water to get out - and it all came gushing down the village towards our residential society, only to get stalled by the walls. It took nearly 4 hours for the water-level to come down - after villagers whose houses had been completely ruined descended on our society and made holes in the compound wall that was holding the water back... (got me thinking about the Torrential Tuesday in Bombay and how awful it must have been for those people when they couldn't get home for over 24 hours. Just a few hours away from home and I was restless - even though it was my uncle's place and I've stayed over so many times before! Also got me thinking once more about the crazy 'development' that Pune is going through and what kind of a city/nation we are 'building' for ourselves...)

That was one flood - meanwhile I've spent the weekend rummaging through the carton of our old photographs and trying to put them in some kind of an order and put them in albums, so that they don't get ruined with each time someone goes thumbing through them...plus I love doing this kind of stuff, and I think it's so much nicer to flip through albums seeing the gradual progress/change/evolution in life. It's kinda crazy doing this, because albums have been made previously with other photos, so by the time I end we'll probably have a couple of albums with similar date-lines! Anyway all the rummaging has got me flooded with memories from the past - some rather vague pictures, some very clear pictures. Pictures of a certain time bring back memories of events in my life of which I may not have photographs, but the images flooding my mind are just as clear.

Bombay Samachar

Bombay Samachar, established in 1822 by Fardoonjee Marzban, was the first vernacular newspaper to be set up in Bombay. (Even Wikipedia gives it a short mention.) Incidentally the first printing press was brought into Bombay in the 1670s by a Parsi businessman and Bombay's first English newspaper started nearly a hundred years later was also the result of a Parsi stalwart.

The headquarter of Bombay Samachar, located in Fort (around the corner from Indian Mercantile Chambers, not far from Strand Bookstall or Bombay Stores) is housed in a red building that's over a century old and boasts strong wooden beams that don't show any sign of decay despite their rather advanced age. I spent some hours in their Circulation Department on a wild goose hunt for an ancient Public Notice - and was amazed at how the office was organised.

The last time I entered a newspaper office, it was to walk out an hour later a little surprised at how uncluttered it looked and how none of the staff, with a rather high "I'm cool" quotient, was over 40. But that was the editorial department of a newspaper that's going through some drastic changes in order to boost its rather sagging sales. Bombay Samachar is nothing like that. It resembles by all means and purposes a typical old, bureaucratic Indian office.

The building may have had a classic fully-loaded Cadillac parked outside, but the entry is definitely not carpeted. Rather I felt like I was entering a warehouse of sorts. Up I went round a winding creaking staircase (the ones I am terrified of slipping through!) into a dingy, musty corridor. As I peaked into the first room, a peon surfaced from his morning nap to ask me where I wanted to go. "Purane newspapers kahan milenge," I asked. He pointed towards another room and I walked into a high-ceilinged musty room cluttered with files, and atleast six people, none of which were doing anything productive. I asked to be given access to their archives and was told to address the last man sitting in the line, one who was browsing through a film magazine. He pointed me back towards the first person I'd addressed, who then told me to sit down and yelled out to Ramji. When Ramji finally appeared 5 minutes later, I was asked which months and year I wanted to start with and Ramji was asked to bring out the concerned file.

I was there with my father, and since they could spare only 1 chair for us (despite the fact that 3 chairs at unoccupied throughout the time I was in that office and 2 others were unoccupied for most of the time) I stood while we searched through the newspapers of autumn-winter 1987. It was interesting for me to be flipping through the newspapers even though most of the content was in Gujurati, which I do not know! The adverts back then were so unsophisticated as compared to what we have today - ofcourse even back then women were used to pedal everything from women's clothing to jewellery, from holidays in Kerala to estate agents in downtown Bombay! Most of the models either had huge hairdos a la Madhuri Dixit as a newcomer, or these wierd beehives stuck at peculiar angles on their heads, or towels wrapped around their heads! And the reigning model seemed to be Sangeeta Bijlani - remember her? The Sunday newspaper had much more English content, with several pages dedicated to the achievements of Parsis and a double spread of comic strips - in colour!

Four months worth newspapers later, I had dusty blackened fingertips and a terrible back-ache; it was lunch time so the female clerk waiting for the others to return finally took pity on me and told me to rest my backside on a stool. When her 'boss' returned, she had to pay for her grave mistake. The man, as far as I could make out has nothing to do but read magazines and harass her...if he wasn't making flirtatious remarks that she tried her best to ignore, he was chastising her for not being efficient enough. How I itched to slap him...and ensure his unemployment for the rest of his life.

Luckily my father decided to abandon the search after we'd gone through 2 more months and said he'd find another way of achieving the desired end. After waiting 10 minutes for the designated clerk to return, we quickly paid him Rs.54 for accessing 3 files and made our way out into the sunlight and open air...as I took in deep gulps of the 'fresh' air, an employee of the newspaper walked out. He nodded at me, turned around and pointed at the building proudly - and informed me proudly that I was standing outside the office of the oldest existing Indian newspaper. He went onto to lecture me on the importance of preserving such old buildings and ensuring that old newspapers like this one don't disappear because of lack of funds, readership or efficient management and then just before we parted ways at the end of the street...he told me that I should go in to see the office and browse through the archives. :-)

The Bombay Mosaic

Marine Drive. Fort. Bombay Samachar (est 1822). Cafe Mocambo. Pasta Salad. Gayatri. Heaven. Home. Mocha (Juhu). Bloggers and Blogwhores - or friends? Expensive wine (didn't we order something for Rs.400?), Fondue and 'Tapas'. Broke. Brunch with Amisha. Nice. Carter Road. Nicer. Andheri Station. Crowded as ever. Churchgate, Oval Maidan, High Court, University - will I ever get tired of the sight? Jahangir Art Gallery. Samovar. Sweet Lime Soda. Gateway of India. Garishly done up South Bombay homes v/s charming South Bombay homes. Indigo Delicatessen. Delicious. Classy. Very Kunal and me :-) Dessert and Coffee at Cafe Basilica - Cranberry Cheese Cake. Scrumpilicious. Heavenly. Back home - exhausted, content. Slept like a log. Breakfast at Woodstock - Macchi Maar with mom's close friend. Gazing from their 11th floor apartment facing the sea, awash with memories of a rainy morning not so long ago :-) Strand Sale, next to Alma Mater (Arya Vidya Mandir Juhu) - very very tempting to splurge. Picked up books on design for big bro, baby books for nephew (his first books from Bookie Bua!) ...and had to curb my own purchases! It's ok - it's not the last Strand Sale ;-) Long wait for one-time student, now friend Shivaji (no he's not Maharashtrian - he's Bengali!). Coffee at Barista. Bike ride to Andheri Station. Quick rendezvous with Aparna - thanks again girl! Prithvi for Sweet Lime Soda and Momos with Shivaji (again). Simple but delicious dinner at Pizza Casa - Versova. Company? Kunal ofcourse - don't know anybody apart from us who actually eat at the place! Early night - earlier morning. Caught the 6.45 am bus back to Pune! YAWN!

Current mood - Content as a Cheshire Cat. Hear that purring in the background? That's me:-)

Eklavya

One of my University professors was also a story-teller. She often does story-telling sessions (often contrapuntal) of fairy tales for children and is an excellent orator. So when some of us weren't too sure of a particular myth, she'd clap her hands togther, ask us to sit back in our chairs and announce "Story-time..." It's been a while since I heard that, but I know how much fun it can be, so here goes - Story-time folks!

Once upon a time there was a young man named Eklavya, who wanted to become the greatest archer of all time. Since he couldn't afford a tutor, he made an idol of the best tutor in the world, Draunacharya, and began practising archery in front of this idol. Now in India, a tutor (Guru) is revered like a God, so Eklavya would place flowers at the idol's feet and pray to this idol everyday before beginning the day's practice. Soon he became the most skilled archer around - on seeing proof of his skill, Draunacharya started feeling insecure that this boy whose background itself was suspect would rise above his own favourite student Arjuna. Tormented by the thought, he decided to exploit the boy's unwavering faith and loyalty to him - as a Guru he could demand Guru-dakshina (payment) at the end of the period of teaching. Draunacharya asked Eklavya to give his the thumb of his right-hand - and such was Eklavya's devotion to his Guru, that without a second's thought, he sliced of his thumb and humbly placed it at his Guru's feet.

(For a slightly less firang sounding version - read this.

This is one of the most popular stories to go around on the occassion of Teacher's Day - but I'm not recounting this tale to you to inspire in you feelings of utmost devotion and respect for teachers - if you ask me Eklavya should have shown him his middle finger instead of unflinchingly cutting off his own thumb and thus ensuring a life of unemployment and frustration for himself. ;-)

Since my examinations got over, I've been a little more helpful in the kitchen - not something I do willingly. It helps ofcourse that my brother is trying to cut down on his weight and has gone on a diet of salads and soups for lunch - an area of interest and relative expertise, as compared to the others in the house. So I step into the kitchen bright and early in the morning to slice the veggies, shred the chicken, toss the dressing, stir the soup...and get my brother's lunch ready before he leaves for work. On Monday, it was cabbage and apple with chives.
So there I was merrily slicing the cabbage nice and fine...slice slice slice and I neatly sliced my thumb along with the cabbage.

After much pain, blodd-loss and cursing those who don't make their own salads, I got my thumb bandaged. And then began the ordeal-

How does one eat food when the thumb of your right-hand is incapacitated? How does one prise open stubborn lids of air-tight boxes? How does one play with a boisterous dog? Or with a baby who thinks that all thumbs in vicinity must be grabbed hold of and stuck into the mouth? How does accept calls on cellphones/cordless phones? How the hell does one type text messages?

Sure, Eklavya didn't have to deal with most of these things, though as a man I'm sure he had to deal with other issues that I needn't be worried about ;-) Two days with a slightly incapacitated thumb and I'm climbing walls in frustration. Boy, does that man have my sympathies!

What Next?

So the exam has been taken - and almost forgotten by now! Never been one to conduct a post-mortem of any exam, specially since it goes against my philosophy about exams...so haven't done that this time either. But now that Diplome Superieur is behind me and the results can only be expected by end September (at the earliest)...I am wondering what next...

Should I succumb to the temptation of picking up another language or start hunting for a 'proper' (read full-time employment with regular pay-checks) job?

Currently:

• Reading Short Stories by Rabindranath Tagore
• Listening to Shakti - Lotus Feet

Mirror Mirror on The Wall...

Don't tell me who's the fairest of them all...

But, pray tell me, why why why
Women must insist on acting coy and innocent,
And thus try and manipulate others,
When the one facing them can see through them,
And hasn't the patience for such acts...
Why why why
Do they thus merrily malign the reputation of our gender?

Bill-dill-blip-boo

I've never been one of those things you meet who coo at the very sight of anything below the age of 10 years and exclaim at how cute a baby is, irrespective of the fact that they've not even caught a glimpse of the baby yet or the fact that the baby is not so cute as it is a pain in the neck!;-) Infact,as I've said on this blog before, I usually start relating to my nieces and nephews once they've crossed the 10 year-mark, so when people questioned me abou how my feelings regarding the baby that was soon to join our family, I hadn't the faintest clue how to respond and generally offered rather non-commital responses from the book!

When my nephew Shaurya was born, for the first one month I didn't really have any feelings towards him. He existed. So did I. Beyond that, there was little interaction between us, specially since he slept alot, and when he was awake he was usually surrounded by an assortment of parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles...so, me being me, rationalised that he doesn't really recognise anyone so no point me joining the crowd and robbing him of much needed oyygen, not to mention ignoring other things that needed to be done.

But things gradually settled down at home - his maternal relatives went back to where they came from, giving me more opportunities to spend time qith him alone. He also started staying awake longer and displaying signs of a rapidly developing strong personality - he is a Shrivastava after all! And thus I began taking my first baby steps towards the tiny squalling, squirming bundle that smelled of milk most of the time! We had an agreement on sorts - as long as he was content, we'd keep each other company, but at the slightest signs of downslide in moods he'd promptly be transferred to more capable arms!

Oft he'd wake me up with his incessant bawling in the middle of the afternoon (or worse, night!) and give me much grief when he'd create a royal ruccus just when I'd started concentrating on something....and I'd groan thinking Vikram Seth was right in wondering why people are so crazy about babies -

"Those idiots with insistent ids
Who yowl when their unbridled bids
For love or milk go unregarded
For seven seconds - or who bawl
For no substantial cause at all..."

I'd wearily drag myself out of my room and trudge over to see what was bothering him and why the mother and grandmother hadn't swung into action...only to discover two helpless women trying to figure out what this tiny male was upset about. Wasn't he too young to be causing them such grief? Ahem? Then, just as suddenly as he started crying, he would stop, peering over a comfortable female shoulder, his head bobbing around and break into a big toothless smile and declare his affection with a loud "Mbooo"...and I'd just stand there looking at him helplessly torn between the urge to go back to what I was doing, or take the smelly, funny bundle into my arms and give him a hug!

In the last one month, he has started conversing alot and he's quite verbose, when he isn't trying to figure out how to put his thumb in his mouth - he IS my nephew after all! At a few days short of three months old, he is one talkative dude! I've decided that he's going to grow up a mulit-linguist. He is going to be bi-lingual right from infance with his family speaking to him in a mix of Hindi and English, and he will definitely learn Marathi is he grows up in Pune. But, he's also going to pick up French from none other than Bua Constrictor a.k.a Bookie Bua who will ensure he reads alot and grows up to be a fine young man!

Below is an excerpt of a conversation I had with him:

Me: Hey hey dude, wassup in da hood?
Shaurya Shrivastava: *Gurgle* Phrrrrr!!
Me: Hmmm...interesting. Et quoi d'autre? (And what else?)
SS: Bill bill dill blip...
Me: Ah c'est cool. Mon jours n'etait pas si interessant...le cours etait assez ennuyant. Mais j'ai beaucoup bavarde aves mes amies...elles sont cool.Tu comprends? (Ah that's cool. My day wasn't as interesting...the class was quite boring. But I gossipped alot with my friends...they are cool. You understand?)
SS: Booo...blip blip...*Big smile*
Me (Folding his legs up against his tummy, just like he likes it) Ah, c'est un sourire sans dents! (Oh that's a toothless smile)
SS: *Laughs in delight*
Me: Ah, c'est un rire sans dents! (Ah, that's a toothless laugh)
SS: Mbooo...blip..dill..dill...
Me: Et...c'est un garcon sans dents...quel beau garcon est-il!(And that's a toothless boy...what a handsome boy he is!)
SS: Boooo...

He and I get along quite well, I think! :-)

Disclaimer

The post below is by no means meant to sound erudite, or a revelation of sorts. It was merely my rather indirect way of saying I'm back to normal and that those clouds casting shadows on my mood have been dispersed for now...the blog is, and always has been, mere random rambling by me and nothing remotely elitist or philosophic - God is my witness that philiosophy was never (and still isn't) my favourite subject!

Hmmm...

Last weekend was a slow weekend, and I indulged in alot of soul-searching, probing deep within the recesses of my mind, not to mention my heart, hunting for answers. I still haven't the answers to most of my questions, but as a friend said, why fret over what is yet to come, and more so, over what isn't in your control. Yes yes I know that...but sometimes you just have to stop and question. Would we ever get any answers if we didn't ever stop to ask?

Not all the questions were narcissitic - some leaned towards a more social issue. Traditions die. Conventions evolve. Societies metamorphise. It's the way of life - change is the only thing that is constant. Our own society has seen some very drastic changes in the last 5 years or so...and sometimes I find myself thinking like one of the elder generation and wondering where we are headed and questioning the merits of these changes.

I had opportunity to remark on a couple of these changes over the last few days:-

A friend has commented several times on my attire, when it happens to be Indian - I refer here to Salwar-kurtas, not clothes manufactured in India ;-) For him (yes it's obviously a man who'd comment on something of the sort) it is a 'formal attire' - and this he says is because everywhere he sees, women are increasingly seen in Western clothes - be it in college, cafes/restaurants/pubs/lounges, offices or just at home. When they do 'condescend' to wear a more 'traditional' attire it is invairably for a formal situation. When he first commented on this topic, I thought him off the rockers, for I know quite a few women in the 20s who don't live in just jeans/trousers. However since then I have started noticing - and it is true to quite an extent. There have even been times when I'm sitting in the food-court of a popular multiplex and apart from the Auntys (read 40+ women with a couple of children in tow) I am the only woman in a salwar-kurta. Not that I mind - I find the salwar-kurta just as comfortable as my faded, old jeans, or my skirts. Infact I love that slightly added bit of feminine grace the attire lends to my appearance when I don my kurtas...but it's also true that I think the Saree is to be brought out only for formal occasions, even while my mother finds herself at ease in Sarees and wears them most of the time.

Over the weekend I had to attend a Satyanarayan Katha and pooja - to which a dear friend commented that I seem to be suddenly attending too many of these 'religious thingys'. No, not the same friend, a different guy this time ;-) I objected loudly at the time, but it's funny how we ourselves have had two Satayanarayan Kathas since we moved to Pune, not to mention have attended atleast five and had a couple of traditional ceremonies held at home...I can't even remember the last time we had a Satyanarayan Katha in Bombay, or for that matter attended one! Anyways am digressing - the point being, that there I was, sitting in the Katha and most of the women around me - for some inexplicable reason we continue to sit in two groups of the "ladies" and "gents" during all such occasions - were a generation elder to me. They started discussing the various Kathas, Kirtans, Bhajans and Poojas being held in our residential complex during the course of the week. My first reaction to this was quite hilarious and not very pertinent to the issue - and then I started thinking about how women of that generation use the excuse of such 'religious thingys' to get out of the house and socialise. Perhaps it's the influence of being brought up in an atmosphere where we never gave much importance to religious rites and functions, holding that it's more important to be true to oneself and be a decent human being - but I simply couldn't see myself having a similar discussion when I reached their age. Which made me wonder whether it is because most of us know so little about these things that used to be such an important part of our culture, our very existence...and how I'd feel if these things just ceased existing. I may not give them much importance, and question them unceasingly, but yet...

Currently :-

• Reading - Guy de Maupassant
  Listening to - One Wild Night - Bon Jovi

Stormy Weather...

While the the weather outside continues to remain wet, dismal and dreary, a storm is raging inside of me - questions unanswered that need to be answered. Yet I have little hope of getting answers any time soon...and that makes me feel frustrated. I'm fed-up. Fed-up of waiting for things to fall into place. I'm scared. Scared my plans will back-fire. I'm clinging. Clinging onto dreams and hopes. And I'm hoping. Hoping I don't fail...

It's Raining, It's Pouring...

For all those of you, who've been following the news (closely or not) the deluge in Maharashtra that has caught most people unaware and has created a pandemonium like never before in Bombay, and parts of the Konkan region, this post comes a little late. I thought I'd refrain from posting about it lest someone complain loudly about my ridiculous obsession with the Mumbai monsoons and the romantic nuances of this season (yes, even when there are landslides, floods, and people are stranded in offices/schools/colleges/friend's homes/roads I find a certain romantic strain to this weather)...

But I couldn't resist. More so, since I have been told to sit at home like a good girl and not think of venturing out in such weather - pleading that Pune rains are non-existent in comparison to Bombay rains didn't help my cause, for I was kindly reminded that Bombay has an excellent public transport system that fails only when the Rain Gods unleash their complete and undiminished wrath on the city - that doesn't hold true for Pune. And then ofcourse the gentle reminder that I maybe up and about and prancing around like a gay deer once again, but the congestion is still there and I can't risk getting wet and/or falling sick again - so here I am marooned at home and with nothing to do but contemplate this season's best (or worst, depending on your perspective) display...and here's a random toss-up of scenes I saw on the news or heard about from friends and folks in Bombay or similarly rain-affected regions in our own friendly neighbourhood next IT destination:-

• "The bridges in Pune are submerged under water. Those who haven't crossed the Sangam bridge as yet will have to stay in their offices" - ahem. First bit of rather exaggerated news about the state of affairs in Pune. It rained, but we weren't exactly submerged under water and commuting by waterways!
• Bombay has recorded 940 mm of rain this season - having broken records of even Cherapunji, which recorded the highest of 830 mm in 1910! Now if that ain't BREAKING NEWS I don't know what is! It takes a downpour of this magnitude to bring that awesome city to a standstill - and even then, doesn't break the spirit of the city! A reporter who hails from Delhi remarked on how well the people are coping with the calamity - hear hear!!
• The roads in Andheri West have been transformed into meandering rivers, as have the roads in several other quartiers in Bombay - verified on phone from friends and family in Tinsel Town and by our gleeful news reporters who are merrily blaming the 'prashasan' for the chaos that rules Bombay at the moment.
• Thousands of people spent the night on the road yesterday - stranded in cars or other modes of transport, kilometers away from their own home or from those of friends/family. Thousands others waded (that isn't a typo- they waded, didn't walk) their way home - taking hours at end to cross an area just 1-15 minutes away from home.
• My cousins had varying experiences - one cousin spent most of the evening and night in a bus and reached home at 4 am. His wife, was stranded in Goregaon and got a message that her father-in-law was stuck nearby - before cellphones networks got jammed - she was lucky enough to find him and they spent half the night in the car, inching their way towards home.
• Yet another cousin waited too long to leave work and spent the night in his office, since the railway tracks were flooded with more than 6" of water and the local train services were shut down till water levels receded.
• Areas that never got flooded several years ago, have been experiencing ankle-length water-logging for the past few years (I'm sorry if I offend someone when I place the blame for this directly on the public who support road-side vendors and turn a blind-eye to the use of storm-water drains as garbage-canals - if the BMC has a job to do, so do you as citizens of this planet). This year the areas experienced flooding - I'm talking waist-high water in most areas and water that went as high as 5' in others and reached the 1st floor in yet others...
• Many areas experienced power-cuts and telephone lines are down, while cellphone networks are hopelessly jammed. So are roads - people are stranded at airports and railway stations; hotels are overflowing.
• Children who attend the afternoon shift were stranded in Podar school, without electricity and adequate food. Apparently harassed school authorities finally put phones off the hook so that they could focus on calming the kids down, instead of answering to frantic queries from parents and guardians...
• My friend spent the night at a colleague's place after his own building got flooded, making it impossible for him to go home - keeping in mind his paranoia about rains and water (he hails from Rajasthan and must be excused since such a phenomenon is very alien to him), it must have been quite bad for him to agree to spend a night without access to internet! ;-)
• A distant relation was stuck in Chiplun for a couple of days after the route to Goa got blocked by a landslide - her husband and brother rushed to rescue her, and now all three are trying to make their way back from Ratnagiri, even while the NH is submerged under water in certain sections! Adventure galore!
• Pune seems to be limping back to normal today - am still grouchy about having to spend the day at home with nothing to do but study! Even the fact that I've got my computer back after a week isn't making me feel too delighted about this house-arrest...think I'll go make myself a cup of steaming Cappucino flavoured with Cinnamon and try and cheer myself up :-)

And latest news :- A fire broke out on an ONGC oil rig 150 km from Bombay, in the middle of the Arabian Sea, surrounded by water, even while it continues to pour!

It's Raining Movies

I'm someone who isn't a movie-buff and has rarely ever felt the desire to watch the latest block-buster (and still continue to avoid most of them!). I'm someone who hasn't seen the landmark films of all time and is blissfully content with that state of things - I'm probably the only person alive who hasn't seen The Godfather and continues to resist the movie, despite innumerable recommendations, gentle hints and threats of dire consequences on not watching it! And then ofcourse there are those well-meaning friends who castigate me for wasting the money my folks have sunk into my education by not having seen that particular movie! Muhahah - priceless!;-) This isn't the only landmark movie that I haven't seen - there are many more! Sometimes I think I stick to my stubborn refusal of watching them, just so I can relish the look of complete shock on people's faces when I blithely announce I haven't the faintest clue what they are talking about because I haven't seen the film!

And so, for such a person, it's more than a little disconcerting to be suddenly watching so many films - that too, on the big screen!!! I started the year with the Pune International Film Festival, seeing three to five films a day, and I was sure that I'd exhausted my year's quota of films by the end of that movie-packed week! Little did I know, that PIFF was just the beginning - have been watching films consistently since then. For a regular movie-buff I still don't see enough - but as I mentioned to a friend yesterday (another one who is constantly horrified at my refusal to watch certain movies and shakes his head sadly at my philistinism in this department) I have probably seen more movies in the past six months, than I have in my entire life! And I'm almost certain that ain't no hyperbole!

Aviator. Black. My Brother Nikihil. Kaal. Parineeta. Sarkar. Dus was the last movie to be added to that increasing list of movies seen this year (which by the way was such a waste - the only good things about the movie were the Theme song and delciously eatable Abhishek! Seriously, if they had to copy a movie, they could atleast do it with more credibility and spend less time on the detailing - Read, ridiculous American accent - in officers of the Anti Terrorist department for chrissake - and fancy wardrobe, not to mention the Honda CRVs!!)
I'm about to add a few more by indulging in a few French films of the Romance genre! Yes it's certainly raining movies!

Pop-Poll :- AB senior is class-apart and that is a well-acknowledged fact, but AB junior is just so much more delicious! He's definitely got his moves right, what say?

Blogging From Heaven

On Sunday evening, so aggrieved was I by my pathetic state of health (congestion, palpitation and fever) and so phased out was I by the medication being pumped into me, not to mention the previous night's insomnia, that I rambled away and wrote this completely ridiculous email to my dearest friends - informing them that I am dying and how certain people couldn't care if I die a dog's death, so wrapped up are they in their petty issues! I also vaguely remember leaving similarly asinine comment(s) on others' blog(s) - *rolling my eyes and flushing in embarassment*

Of the friends who rushed to reply promptly was new addition to the 'inner circle' - Titash...I reproduce un-edited his email:-

"Incase you are dead, I hope you are checking your mail from the world beyond life. Being an atheist I cannot subscribe to the heaven-hell theory, but I do strongly cling to the hope that we transform into beings intelligent enough to be able to check emails and live in environments friendly enough to give us free internet access.
"The world beyond life" is perhaps the most politically correct way that an atheist can put it. Come to think of it, an atheist's definition of heaven would be where they gave you sleek laptops with wi-fi internet that was free too. Hell would be a old celeron dabba with a dialup connection where you were charged by the hour for both the net and the phone calls :D
That makes me think, the way you are, the first thing you would do, irrespective of whether you landed in heaven or hell would be to go blog and bitch/praise ur new life. and then there wuld be precisely 12 comments.
9 from your regular bloggers who would go gaga about "gurl you are having soo much fun up there...ooo...you wrote so nicely...aww wat a pity, what a shame you landed up there.....blah blah blah" or some such equally noncomittal nonsensical comment.
1 from Kunu Baba saying that he really misses you and that it was a nice post and gave good idea of how things were with you. 1 more anon from me. 1 anon from mon amour...or rather your amour. (These last two comments you think up cos now I am hungry and planning to end this crap I am writing :P ) "

Such is the concern expressed by those I value the most on pronouncement of my impending death!!!

Page 3 Report

Date & Time: 14th July, 2005, 7 p.m
Venue: Le Meridien, Pune
Decor: Decent - Red and Blue sashes, White Balloons
Music & Food: Good - Specially liked the Florentine dish. The Tiramisu was also nice. Just wish they would pass around wine, instead of Khus with Sprite, but I guess that's asking for too much eh? And I definitely can't afford wine at Le Meridien (and my conscience won't allow me to buy it on Daddy's money - good girl, aint I?)

Random Observations:

• Nothing like an old classic (albeit remixed) to truly set the party in motion - last night it was Madonna's Like a Prayer. She's still the Queen, boss!
• Some people get really enthusiastic and can shed all inhibitions, others (like me) need time to warm up and a gentle nudge (sometimes even alcoholic) to truly let their hair down.
• There is something about the way Black people move - even apparently trained Salsa dancers couldn't shake their booty as well as this Black couple.
• Not everyone who is dressed to kill wants their photograph published on Page 3 of a leading (or not) daily! Some people dress for their own pleasure, not for that of others, nor for publicity! They are the ones who truly rock!
• Some girls can be amazingly inelegant while dancing - the enthusiasm is there, so is the ability to match upto the tempo, but there is simply no grace! I look at them and simply can't find the femininity in their movements.
• Whatever you wear, however skimpy it may be, once you get on the dance-floor, you are bound to sweat! It's worse when you're bald - this one smart, bald gentlemen had rivulets of perspiration running down his scalp within 15 minutes of being on the floor!
• Guys have it easy - they just saunter in wearing jeans and tee-shirts with sneakers. No pre-party stress about what to wear, and no post-party stress of feet that ache from hours of dancing in heels - nor of toes minced under some guy's enthusiastic leap into the air with Summer of '69!
• Hair left open may look sexy, but it is no fun having it stick uncomfortably to your neck and back when you're trying to set the floor on fire! It kinda turns down the excitement of the racing pulse (and a later thought - inhibits him from spontaneously kissing that neck, doesn't it?)...
• Kajra Re (Bunty aur Babli) may be a very happening number, but it's incredibly difficult to groove to it, unless you're really into it and have no problems doing mujra!
  So is Kaal (Theme song) unless your form of exercise/weight-loss program is the currently popular pole-dancing aerobics! Or you're willing to indulge in the kind of back-breaking exercise SRK grooves to, in the video!
• Once you've imbibed some alcohol, it doesn't matter what country you are from, or whether you understand the lyrics or not - a Frenchie can do the bhangra just as well as any Indian! ;-)
• Last but not the least - Where was the French music? Wasn't this party celebrating La Fête Nationale de la France?

Let's Swing, Let's Dance...

It's that time of the month when my moods are oscillating like nobody's business - and so it is, that I shift from sheer happiness to depression, from contentment to frustration and from child-like enthusiasm to a lackadaisical response to everything. All these and a myriad more subtle mood shifts have been part of quotidien routine for the past few days!

Today I started the day with enthusiasm - it's 14th July! Ring any bells? Fall of the Bastille? La Marseillaise? French National Day, or as the globe-trotting Akshay pointed out La Fête Nationale! Before you start throwing bricks and bats at me for being snooty traitor and devoid of patriotism, let me rush to add that the enthusiasm is for tonight's soiree, organised by Alliance Francaise de Poona...now that the confusion over what to wear has passed, I'm all set to shake a leg (and more) tonight :-)

And So the Oracle Spake...

There used to be a time when any self-respecting person who claimed to be of the logical, analytical school of thought, would scoff at the very notion of believing an astrologer/tarot card reader etc. (This came after years of blind belief in the family astrologer prophesies). These days I find, much to my amazement, an increasing number of people who have the most complete faith in astrologers, and tarot readers (quite the rage these days).

I myself, have always had rather ambivalent feelings about this - my brain geneally refuses to accept that somebody else can look at my hand, make some calculations about stars and planets and tell me how my life is charted. It was always more of fun, than something I truly believed in. That I question how accurate they can be is a different matter. Even accepting that they are accurate for the most part, I wonder if it really helps knowing what's going to happen in the future. If the astrologer says you're going to get what you want, doesn't that make you complacent? Don't you strive less hard and take more risks/liberties, since somewhere at the back of your mind a tiny voice is reminding you of what lies ahead? And if you know that something won't work out the way you want it, doesn't that make you bitter, and make you lose heart even before you started trying?

Meanwhile I find myself in a wierd dilemma - a couple of years back I was kidding around and ended up getting my "future revealed" to me by an uncle who is an astrologer. Now this same uncle has been remarkably accurate about other family members, so despite my ambivalence I couldn't completely dismiss or forget his words. Specially since one of things he spoke about is something that is perhaps the most important thing for me - it's something for which, I've been waiting for a long time. Everytime a friend says it will happen for me and I can only wish their words come true, for I honestly don't know what I'll do if they don't come true. And I can only pray, that the hope that has been kept alive inside me for the past couple of years isn't for nothing...

And I wonder if it woudn't be better if I didn't know? Because then, I would have continued to carry on, and wouldn't be planning things with that one thing in mind (always) and would be prepared for either eventuality...

PS Speaking about prophesies, just can't help but remember the great Oracles and Sophocles' Oedipus and Electra.

Of Rendezvous, Pals, Bonhomie and Bombay...

It's always a pleasure to meet friends, but when it comes coupled with a Bombay trip it amounts to sheer undiluted times of fun :-) And so it was this weekend - the trip, was made primarily to meet my childhood friend Mansi, who is down for her annual "India" vacation. That translates into hours and hours of talking, walking around our beloved neighbourhood (irrespective of the rains, muck, traffic congestion et al), shopping and last but not the least being over-fed by Mansi who thinks the weight looks good on me! *Rolling my eyes*

But when do Bombay trips comprise of meeting just one person? How incredibly sedate and soporific! So there was the rendezvous at Mondegar on Friday evening with some Bloggers ( Akshay, Rahul, Phal and moi) and some Blogwhores (Kunal, Aparna and Anurag - who came (un)fashionably late!) - loads of fun, what with shouting over the juke-box din, singing along with favourites, indulging in friendly mud-slinging, spilling beer and wine - generally a lot of bonhomie going around our tiny little table! This was followed by a quick and delicious dinner at Bade Miyaan - ironic that I never went there while I was still in Bombay but finally reach the road-side eaterie famous for its "Bheja-pav" after having moved to Pune! All in all, a wonderful evening that I'd love to repeat some-time soon - rarely am I so chilled out with people I've just met - - - do I hear any "ayes" for an encore?

And then ofcourse I met darling Appu - some more talking and eating - nothing fancy, but it was like the good old times when conversation flowed easily and jibes were taken in good spirit. More happiness...On Sunday Madusa and I dropped in for coffee and conversation at Dr.Bharucha's - our M.A prof. An extremely intelligent and smart lady - I've said this before, but I'll reiterate it - if I can end up even half as intelligent, accomplished and well-read as her, I'll die a content woman!

Picked up some great stuff from Bombay this time - someone was amused that I save up certain shopping for Bombay 'coz the stuff would definitely be available in Pune too, but I'm loath to scour the "market" areas of Pune, when I know just where to go in Bombay for exactly what I want AND in the budget I want! Same reason why I continue to get my hair-cut in Bombay - this way I run no risk for my hair looking like a broom! :-)

Moral of the story - BOMBAY ROCKS
(Yes I am a Bombay-phile; Yes Bombay mere rag-rag mein dodta hai; Yes I'm incorrigible and suffer from the incurable Bombay Disease)

Alas all good things must come to an end - and so did this trip, though with a fitting end. The drive back to Pune was divine, what with all those misty clouds, verdant hills and silvery cascades flowing down the slopes onto the expressway. Soaking it in greedily I allowed my eyes to feast on the brilliant display Nature had set out in front of me even as the wind caressed my cheeks - why would anyone want to travel by A/C bus when this mode enables you to make the most of the awesome drive and weather?

So now I'm back and I really must settle down to some kind of studying routine - sigh.

P.S. Adi and Rahul have swanky new looks on their blogs - I want chic look too! Damn, looks like I'm going to be scouring for templates all over the internet once again!