Friday 30 April 2010

Plumbing delight!

Living alone has its pros and cons, moments of extreme frustration and others that make you feel liberated. And, there can be nothing more liberating than solving your plumbing problems on your own.
The last time I called the plumber, he took 700 bucks and left me with a cistern that worked for two days and then started giving me problems again. He dismantled the whole thing, spent two precious hours on it and still didn't do enough for me to want to summon him the next time there was a problem.
So this time around when my flush stopped working, I set the piston right, bought a lever (for rs 53) and also learnt about the float valve (thanx to an enterprising friend) and now am sorted :D
Raring to solve the next plumbing problem :D

Thursday 29 April 2010

God is in heaven and all's right with the world.
And I'm not gonna let some poor increments, disillusionments at the workplace, with people around me, the weather and so much more change that.
Yes, there are times to give vent to your frustrations and sometimes to take stock. Have given vent to frustrations. Now, is the time to take stock.

Tuesday 27 April 2010

From my past

A thought is rushing into my hands. I used to have a friend who had a problem for the first few years of his life. His tongue was attached to the base of his mouth...it used to affect his speech. Later, it was surgically separated a bit...But it still bothered him. Not just in speech but in thought too. He used to tell me God probably didn't want him to talk...he was a very silent person you know. Dunno why I am writing about this. As I said, the thought is rushing to my fingers.
Another story, or was it an incident I heard about, comes to my mind. I think I read about it in the Readers' Digest. Something to do with a man, who got a call...picked up the phone (am talking about landlines, which were the only kinds of phones in those days) and said wrong number. Haha!!

What weird stories are coming to mind.
Just jotting em down. Will analyse them later.

When I was much younger and used to live at home, on the fourth day of the menstrual cycle, one was supposed to take an oil bath after applying turmeric all over the body. I remember my mother used to tell me not to sleep in the afternoon on those particular days. I think she used to say the dreams one had then would come true or something to the effect. What I do remember is the headaches that would follow if I slept without drying my hair properly. But I would still find an excuse to nod off on those hot summer afternoons on the cold polished floors of my house, pretending to read. Just so I could have some dreams that could be fulfilled.
Funny, I don't remember those dreams, nor if they ever got fulfilled.

To silence...

You entered my soul like a gust of wind
Determined to blow a fresh breath of life into me
I opened the window unto you,
To make space for something new to me

You became a part of my being, a friend
Who stuck by me when everyone else was too busy
I leaned on your shoulder
And I felt myself like a climber wrapping around you

Slowly, you became a permanent guest
One I could no longer turn away at will or wont
You became a wall in my house
Only to become the roof over my head and hearth

Then you spread your roots within my spirit
Wrenching it from its foundations, alienating me
From who I thought I used to be
I initially embraced you, then submitted, then succumbed

Until I became a prisoner of your domineering affections
I lost my freedom to think and speak or speak and think
I forgot I used to have a voice at all
And you wrapped me in you arms, like a shroud and buried me.

Wednesday 21 April 2010

Hazaron Khwaishen Aisi

Hazaron Khwaishen Aisi...
Some people will be very hurt if I say I was disappointed after all I had heard about it. At many layers, the movie seemed to be superficial...The story was written and everything had to be fit in. Characters interchanging, ideals wishy-washy, resting on 'revolution'. Was it my current state of mind that contributes to the disappointment?
What was not there? It was jumpy...Am still working on it...trying to figure out what is was that was bugging me through the film.
Maybe it was the convenience of it all. Everybody making 'convenient' choices to suit the narrative. Am not talking about the choices made by the characters, but the swinging nature of the characters...Something didn't fit in.
Siddharth being so passionate about one thing that he chooses his ideology over his love more than once. Siddharth, who has put his life on the line for the 'revolution' abandoning it once he's given up for dead, letting go of the same people who saved his life. At least he's constant about saying 'Sorry Geeta' for abandoning her at every corner.
Geeta Rao, educated abroad, who joins the movement to be with Sidharth, to please him and impress him, ends up working in remote villages. She gives up a husband who loves her, a lover who comes to her resuce every time and goes back to the villages leaving behind the man for whom she took up the cause in the first place.
Vikram Malhotra, a 'fixer' who also tries fixing his Lady Love's life until his own life is rendered lifeless. Who makes fun of the revolution throughout...
Am I just too sleepy or not drunk enough or watching it alone...what is contributing to the disillusionment?
Imagine, the only shot repeatedly coming to mind is the one where the camera moves through the grass to a bleeding and badly beaten up Vikram lying in the fields. And I remember this for such a silly reason too...Not too long ago, someone I know shot a similar scene with my cell phone. Memories - how they tease me at times and elude me at others.
How I wish I could share the passion others share for this film...But then I guess, as Chacha said ages ago and people have repeated ever since,
'Hazaron Khwaishen Aisi...'

Tuesday 20 April 2010

Life cycle

As I sit mulling many things happening in my life right now, my memory takes me back to days in my childhood.
I can see my father running behind me as I learnt to cycle on empty roads in bandh-stranded Kolkata some time in the Eighties. He never let me know when he let go of the cycle. I always thought he was right there to hold me if I fell. Well, I did fall a number of times. But I always got up and rode on. Or so I choose to believe now. My memory, as family and friends will tell you, is phenomenally weak. I should check with him I did actually ride on or mourned over my bruises weighting for some saviour to pick me up and take me home.
I am not sure anymore.
I always thought I was independent. Maybe it wasn't independence, but being carefree to the extent of being careless about everything, including people. Never realised just how careless.
I want to ride that bicycle again. I want to know what my instinct made me do when I fell — did I cry or did I pick my cycle and ride on.
I want to go back in time and see how far away from myself I have come.

Monday 19 April 2010

April 19, 2010

The clouds burst today. They had been carrying their load for quite some time now. They brought some peace to a city clamouring for relief from the heat. After some time, as the evening sky turned into night, a quarter of a moon peeped out. Almost ashamed to show it’s incompleteness, wondering if earthlings would judge it by its appearance.
Little did it know not too many had the time to see it, today tomorrow or fourteen days later.
Surprising, the moon is so linked to love in traditional stories, music and popular culture. A moon is the lady love, a moon unites two distant yet yearning hearts. A moon is what the lovers must cross to reach their blissful netherworld.
And yet, the moon is a loner. Alone in a threatening dark and gloomy sky, the moon fights its battles with the clouds, makes friends with alien stars and holds its own in an alien sky. From the balcony after a long day’s work, I can reach out to it in the hope that it will not judge me my trespasses. It will not hold me guilty for carving out my own path in an increasingly chaotic wilderness.
It will keep me company as it cycles around my world, silent, watchful and patient.

Tharoornama

A lot of things on my mind. First things first. Shashi Tharoor has resigned from his post as minister of state for external affairs. The whole Tharoor=Lalit Modi controversy over the franchisees of the Kochi IPL team must have grabbed as many eyeballs as Modi's pet matches, if not more.
But of late, there's juts one emotion that reigns supreme whenever the scandal comes to mind -- cynicism.
Does one really think Tharoor went just because he was caught being corrupt. There seems to be more to this than meets the eye. The GenNext minister that Tharoor was portraying himself as, will be missed. His clean image may have taken a beating, but political naivette seems more to be his fault than armtwisting a master arm twister like Modi to hand over the bid to Kochi or even armtwisting Rendezvous Sports World to take his friend Sunanda Pushkar on board.
The murky IPL world will throw up more googlies if only the politicians allow it to. But why does one feel that with Tharoor and Pushkar both giving up their stakes, real and imagined, the IPL controversy will blow over. Modi will emerge unscathed and all will be well on the field.

Tuesday 13 April 2010

Did not want to blog about this, but I need to get it out. It's time for a reality check, more so cos I got a jolt...can't let the chance pass me by.

Thursday 8 April 2010

The unnatural death of a homosexual professor

Shrinivas Ramchandra Siras is dead. And the Aligarh Muslim University plans to hold a condolence meeting in his memory on the campus on Thursday.
How many among those who attend the meet and shed tears over the departed soul would have been part of the witch-hunt that may or may not have claimed his life on Tuesday?
The Marathi reader and former chair of Modern Indian Languages at Aligarh Muslim University was suspended for engaging in homosexual activities at his official residence on the campus with an unidentified rickshaw puller in February this year. The university authorities and some of his students were said to have colluded with a local news channel to film the incident and bring him to book.
Some reports say he admitted to his homosexuality, others are ambiguous. But the fact remains that when he appealed before the Allahabad High Court against the suspension, the court ordered the university to re-instate him.
The university, however, took its time. It said it hadn't received the court order yet. But Siras was still looking forward to returning the campus he loved and taught in for twenty years. Meanwhile, probably tired of the whole wait for justice or of the whole struggle, he may have killed himself. The police are yet to rule out suicide.
The university and the narrow-minded students who engaged in the witch-hunt against a man for his sexual preferences will now hold a condolence meet. One hopes they focus on his achievements in his chosen sphere of life rather than his private life.
It won't be far from the truth to imagine that many people will be secretly relieved that they did not have to see him back on campus. He wouldn't be there to remind them that they had a homosexual professor, nor would he be around to remind them of their intolerance to differences. Anything that doesn't conform to the majority is a sin, anything that fights this mindset is a bigger sin.
Which brings us to the question that is it enough for the law to decriminalise consensual gay sex? When will it be socially acceptable? Many of my friends would tell, to hell with society, but I wonder if one Siras would have not thought this during his last moments alive.
Darn the hypocrisy of it all. May his soul rest in peace in what one hopes would be a more tolerant netherworld.

Saturday 3 April 2010

I'm fat and I love myself

The Shoaib Malik-Sania Mirza-Ayesha (Maha Siddiqui) affair seems to be providing fodder for the gossip mills. And I would have let the three sort out their lives in private, had I not been drawn into the mess in my own private way.
A news report in a paper claims Shoaib dumped Ayesha because she was fat. Now, there's also a report quoting the family as saying 'Shoaib was duped thinking he was speaking to slim, beautiful Ayesha'. Which is funny when you read it. I mean, ya, he's famous and might want to have a trophy wife (like he'll now be hoping to get, and by trophy I mean the slim beautiful variety of women he seems to prefer as well as the kind who has some trophies to her credit).
At some level, his wanting a slim wife can be forgiven and forgotten as one of those numerous cases of 'fair, slim, homely bride' wanted columns in matrimonial sections of newspapers and websites.
I would have let it pass, had I not heard a colleague and a dear friend comment a few days ago, 'Why on earth would HE marry a fat ugly girl like her'. Well, it's surprising how my friends never pause to think they are talking to a fat woman when they throw such comments left, right and centre. And she's not alone.
So many of my friends comment about fat women displaying their 'thunder thighs' at water parks, in mini skirts at parties, in tight clothes in office and elsewhere. Either they don't see me, don't see me as fat or don't think I'll mind, cos I'm on their side!! Come on people, get a life! There's so much to be done rather than focusing on how fate or thin I am.
Earlier it used to be a bit painful to keep a straight face and ignore the comments, now I've got used to me and can just ignore the ludicrous observations with an indifferent smile.
It's hilarious when some people who make these comments are not the slimmest you could find on the planet anyway!
And hey! It almost seems fat people should be ashamed they are fat! They can't get married, shouldn't wear clothes they feel they are comfortable in if it is tight, or should simply hide from the rest of humanity for the rest of their lives and grow fatter within the four walls of their homes until they die (wonder if they would shrivel up and die though).
Somebody had a Facebook status message I've grown to love: God loved me so much, he made more of me. (Well, of course, I kept adding to it more, cos I love myself so much!!!)
To all those people who think life is all about being slimmer, more beautiful, fairer, taller...Wake up! there's more to life. Be happy with who you are! And if you are not, then work towards what you think will make you happy.
I'm fat, I'm fit, I'm a beautiful person and I'm happy about who I am. Wonder how many less fat people could say that with the same confidence.
(You would be forgiven for thinking I am fat as there's a lot of hot air in me, but no people, it's all the goodness that's packed in. As they say, good things come in small packages)

Friday 2 April 2010

The moon stepped out of the shadows,
Looking for a cloud to hide behind
So long had it stayed away from the sky that
It forgot how much it loved to flaunt it's
brilliant, white robe
It forgot how much it loved to interact with the
stars, lovers on the earth
A lost beggar, a homeless mongrel
It stayed away from the people it loved
It stayed away from people in general
And when the time came to part the veil
It lost the desire to be seen
Wanting a curtain to hide behind,
A cloud to hold on to
Anything that would efface its existence
And blend it with the dark, menacing sky behind it,
The ignominy that it hated so much
Yet now, the thought of stepping into its own halo was
so scary that it took a step back
Into the dreary nightless sky
Into the eternal abyss
It's just a step forward into fearless
freedom or one into a sheltered forgotten well
Whither goes now?
I've been itching to write about so much, but somehow thoughts have been eluding my grasp. Today was a busy day at work. Edited plenty of copies, made a page, proofed many more and basically earned my rest. But as it happens, I'm out of practice with how to spend earned rest, cos I've been so woefully under-worked for so long, it's stopped being funny any longer. Read a few blogs. Tried collecting my thoughts and thought I'd write. And of course, the focus is missing. Am rambling like always...