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Chalk , Cheese and More ...Yappety yap about anything under the sun and possibly above it. This is my space for just about anything including random thoughts flavored in sarcasm and seasoned with bad humour
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July 03 No Brownie Points For NarcissusI started typing this in a fit of anger- A fit of anger so severe that it made me want to cry out and break something. (which most probably would have been this keyboard). But nothing I typed seemed right. It just did not capture the turmoil. Somewhere in between my 7th and 8th rewording of the list of expletives , my angst and rage that I was attempting to put down in words, melted away only to be replaced by a hollow feeling. I started feeling like the ugly duckling.
What actually triggered off this outburst of emotions is a seemingly trivial comment by my boy friend. He is the best travel agent for a guilt trip. He can downright make you feel ashamed of yourself without even saying a word. He can pull you down from cloud no 9 to dungeons of despair. I will refer to him as Narcissus. I choose to call him that for a few reasons. For starters he is in love with himself. Secondly he is handsome enough to do so. Third it kinda rhymes with an anagram of his name.  Now for the details of tragedy that befell me. I was in one of my rare happy moods and even contemplating cleaning up my apartment. I decided to start with the fridge. Living on a shoe string budget, I didn’t have the heart to throw out the last brownie and a scoop of ice cream that I found in the fridge. So I popped the brownie in the microwave, dug deep and excavated some pre historic residents of the black hole I call fridge. And Voila! what do we have there? - A sizzling brownie with chocolate sauce and ice cream and some whipped cream to top it. <happy music> I got a call from Narcissus. I enlightened him about my enterprising self who managed to throw together the most amazing, mouth watering dessert with the left overs in the fridge. I was reveling in the taste of my achievement and expecting a pat on my back for it. Instead Narcissus gives his normal grunt in reply( may be I should have called him the pig. He grunts more than he talks). It was followed by a moment of silence. An then Narcissus drops it on me. “So ..” (Did I mention that Narcissus has this habit of beginning every sentence with so? That is when he is not grunting his replies).”.. when are you going to the gym?”.
If this was a movie I was directing, there would have been danger music playing in the background as my spoon stopped mid air. I would have taken a close up shot of my fingers losing grip on the spoon and follow the spoon clattering on to the floor, splattering brownie and ice cream on to the carpet. Then I would pan the room and zoom back on to my face standing with mouth agape. <sad music> Did you just say I over reacted? Then most probably you are a guy. And more specifically a guy who nags his girl friend/ wife to lose weight or hit the gym. A guy (like every other guy) who thinks that it is his birth right to have a reed thin woman tending to his needs- carnal and otherwise. <
The cardinal sin in the book of dating and courtship for men is telling the lady that she needs to lose weight. Come on guys, we are obsessed enough with our weight without you having to remind us. And remember, We are much better than you at word play, In fact we invented word play just like we invented fore play and you have no clue about either. So don’t break a sweat trying to disguise your intention with an indirect comment on our weight. For instance, I order a brownie bite at Barrista and Narcissus first gives me an unapproving look, which I chose to ignore. But I decided I would only have half the brownie bite. He gasps as I repeat the order to the waiter. I reduce my intended level of intake to quarter glass. And then he tells me that my kurta has shrunk after the last wash. Sigh, I call the waiter and ask for a brissta lite instead of the brownie bite. You guys may be better at reading maps but we have an innate ability of reading between the lines. We are not blessed with the wonderful metabolism that you guys have. We (or maybe it is only me) believe that food of the likes of cucumber is to be thinly sliced , salted , peppered and thrown away. You are the ones who make us conscious about the way we look and then complain when we ask if we are looking fat. (btw the only correct answer for it is no). Next time you want to tell your girl friend to lose weight, please do consider how you would feel if we constantly cribbed about the size of your dick or rather the lack of it.
I am sure you ladies out there are wondering what became of my dessert. I threw away the remains of my dessert. <sad music. i would probably have a solo violin piece here played by some one who has never ever seen a violin. i am feeling that miserable> Then I started doing what pissed off girl friends generally do. I disconnected his call and started ignoring his messages. Narcissus still thinks I over reacted. I am devising a plan to shed those extra pounds which will never make it beyond the paper. ObituaryI berate the demise of the unborn series of rants - PKSE.
The reason for its untimely demise is a reluctance on my part to shatter the prevailing domestic peace. It would be impossible to write anything on the gender wars without breaching the LOC with my boy friend. It would inevitably be a bone of contention in the future fights. I love my peace and hence I am letting all those thoughts be bottled up in my head. May the soul RIP May 03 Pyaar Ke side effects series – A humble beginningAt the slightest provocation, I often find myself brooding over or waxing eloquent on my own views and opinions of “men & women” and “relations”. So I thought why not blog them. And here it goes a series of pyaar ke side effects. Here ,in this space, I don’t intend to talk about women upliftment or gender equality or female genital mutilations. I am just blogging my very own opinionated views of the side effects relations have on men and women. I know most people think that I am whiner who cribs about everything under the sun. I do not disagree with you. But that surely doesn’t mean I agree either. I do whine, after all whine and cheese always make a good combo. Really, if my whining is keeping you awake or giving you cooties, please do feel free to stop reading. Let me quickly introduce you to my personas for this series of rants. Jill is the twenty something girl who is an arm chair feminist. She is an extremely sensitive girl who loathes anything girly and yet ends up doing exactly those. She is quite predictably in love with Jack, who is again twenty something. Jack is our boy next door , who speaks before he thinks and can’t think of more than one thing at a time. These central characters finer details and the supporting characters will be drawn later. This is just a story board or concept. I am open to suggestions. Please do watch out for updates April 30 Changing ThemeHello loyal followers of my blog
Due to incessant complaints from you all regarding the awfully jaundiced look of my blog, i am changing the theme. Hope this one is more pleasant on your eyes.
Now for my defense, the yellow did not look so jarring on my laptop. But i do emapthise with those of you subjected to the blinding avatar of the same yellow. Happy reading. Keep the comments and messages coming April 20 Growing SmallI had been a happy go lucky child, who believed she could conquer the world if needed. I was also so content with myself that I did not feel the need to conquer the world. In short it was bliss. But the occasional warning against being “over confident” added to the taxing process of growing up, slowly eroded away the confidence and content.
Growing up is a slow process of degradation- of principles, morals and confidence. As a kid I always identified myself with the knight in the shining armor or the do-gooder of the fairy tales. I was never the damsel in distress who always spends the best part of the story locked up in a tower or sleeping. (I lost faith in fairy tales very soon. But that’s a different story). Now a days I find myself at times, identifying with the bollywood heroine who sneezed out her miniscule brain through her nostril while dancing around the tree. Is that not proof enough to say growing up degrades you? For the sake of argument, you may say a kid’s life is so much easier? Really? For kids deadlines are for real. I don’t remember ever having missed a deadline to finish some assignment or submit some form. But now I am busy concocting excuses to explain the schedule slippage even before the dead line is made. Kids are expected to remember everything. Forgetting to bring a text book to school could land you in trouble where as now as an adult you have the freedom to forget and misplace anything- ID card, driving license, tickets. There are always work-arounds and it is not even looked upon as a lapse on your part. It is “just natural”. The challenges are sure different but the pressure is just the same and yet a kid manages to preserve the goodness.
Growing up is about redefining the right and the wrong. It is about crossing that line between sin and fun. Things that were hitherto sin becomes fun weekend activities. Apart from an occasional guilt trip, we are unfazed and often proud of the changes in us. Sometimes in the small interval of sanity and sense between the last smoke and the next sip of alcohol, I berate the death of the purist in me- the child who looked down upon smoking and boozing. What happened to that child who could empathize with the less fortunate? Today I would without a second thought step on someone to hoist myself up a step or two on the corporate ladder. Anything for that ever elusive promotion! But as they say change is inevitable. But could we not grow up without killing the kid in us?Probably it is all a due to a law of conservation. At any point of time the ‘bigness’ in you is a constant. Mathematically speaking the product of the ‘bigness’ of heart and ‘bigness’ of stature is a constant. Consequentially as you grow old you degrade in morals and principles. Sigh!!! I wish I could ungrow myself. If only wishes were horses, i would saddle this horse and ride away from the throbbing head ache that accompanies my hang over. Do I need to mention that the wish only lasts as long as my hang over? April 13 The well kept secret of LongetivityOver the past few weeks, I realized the secret of a happy and long life is not collagen or any other miracle drug. It is quite surprisingly long boring meetings. I cannot elaborate enough on the life and sanity saving properties of such meetings. However like they say too much of a good thing is bad. You have to exercise caution while experimenting with this revolutionary fountain of youth and mirth.
Next time you open your calendar and see a long meeting scheduled, don’t cringe. Instead if possible open that bottle of champagne and drink to the health of the one who called for the meeting. Make sure you arrive at least five minutes late to the meeting, throw on a French accent and do an impersonation of Clouseau from Pink Panther.
Please do not attempt to do this if anybody with hiring /firing permissions is an attendee or if your company does not tolerate lunatics on the pay roll. But this is a good way to set the mood for an informal bak-bak meeting. Usually the like of status updates. I understand that usually this is not a very practical opening. You can try one of the following options. In my office, we call ourselves the SAM (Survive a meeting) tactics
The best part about meetings is that you can always blame unfinished work on never ending meetings. Meetings are God’s gift to working people. So get going schedule a few meetings right away April 07 Carrie and MeOne of my friends recently asked me if I am trying to be the next “Carrie Bradshaw” with my blog. That set me thinking. I do not blog about sex or relations per se. I do broach on those topics occasionally (relationships especially), but does that make me a wannabe Carrie? I don’t think so. So let me set the records straight. I am not a sexpert or a wannabe CB.I don’t proclaim mastery over matters of the heart. I am no one to give advice on relations. For heaven’s sake I can’t even seem to hold on to the semblance of a relation I have with my boy friend. I am just blogging my thoughts- My very opinionated thoughts with the overtones of “I have seen life” statements. But truth be told, I am as clueless as any of you out there. March 18 Knotty Issues“Have you started looking for her?”, is one of the dreaded questions every twenty something Indian girl gets to hear at least once in her life time. The question is often posed by a nosy relative donning the hat of a well meaning concerned person. Let us call this character Auntyji.
There are a few things very characteristic of all Auntyjis out there. For starters, they develop a special condition called sudden-selective-temporary-corneal-blindness. This causes the affected to not see or notice the ‘her’ in the above question. The question is thrown at your parents while the unsuspecting girl is sitting right there within ear shot and usually in the line of sight of Auntyji. Another characteristic thing is that all Auntyjis have a amazing search algorithm with an immense database wired into their brains. Moments after they pose the question, you can see them rattling off details of every single eligible bachelor inhabiting earth, putting even the best resume searching software to shame. The details they manage to deliver is also noteworthy. Right from the hapless specimen’s GPA in college to his birth marks, all the details are indexed and available at her finger tips. Coming back to the question, there is no known way for a girl to dodge this without some casualty. A limb lost there, an eye torn out here, few tears shed there… trust me it is a mess. You reason, you plead, you threaten, but the storm rages unrelentingly. And finally as abruptly as it began it dies down. Quite honestly, the calm after the storm is scary. It leaves you wondering what your parents are up to. Yet you don’t want to broach the topic for the fear of provoking yet another bout of the storm. Argh!!!! Can some one pass a law increasing the marriageable age for girls to 28? Puhleeeeeeeesssssssseeeeee!!!!! February 26 Loving itThe one question whose answer has been eluding crisp definition is “how do u know when you are in love?”. It is a question that can fire off a debate lasting hours and still leave all the participants in a state of mutual resentment or a state in which they agree to disagree. I am not even attempting to stake claim for having found the elusive answer. Pardon me if this blog is a little too cheesy or clichéd. After all romance is the most clichéd yet most sought after entity in the whole world. They say, you are in love with someone when you want to be with him not because you can live with him, but because you cannot live without him. You spend hours and hours with him and yet the moment he leaves, you miss him. You cannot stop thinking of him when he is away. When you hear your phone ring or beep, you hope, it is him. Love turns you- the you who used to snore at the sight of a bed- into a raging insomniac. You toss and turn building sand castles in the air. And then with a sudden thud, the sand castle collapses when you realize you have turned into the kinda girl you love to hate. The romantic mushy fulla shit heroine of the Hindi movies. You just laugh off your frivolousness and blame it on temporary insanity. The phone rings again and you find yourself hoping it is him but tell yourself it is just a crush or it is just your hormones acting up. So this is not love??? They say, love is when you know his flaws and still love him the same. That would mean you don’t flinch when he picks his teeth in front of you or your friends. You know that he is gonna make a racket with the cutlery, dragging a squeaking fork across the best of your china , yet you don’t look apologetic or angry. You don’t mind when he chews like a cow with half masticated food hanging off his mouth, chomping loudly and displaying the food for all to see. The burp that comes after the food does not surprise you. You don’t mind when he scratches his privates in public. You even find it adorable that he is wearing the same underwear for the past 3 days because you said he looks sexy in it. When you think you are about to fall in love, you must also practice carrying on a conversation with yourself because half of what you say to your boyfriend falls on deaf ears and he is not gonna respond either because it is beyond the scope of his emotion challenged brain or he is not listening. (Shhh… 90% of the time it is the latter, but guys claim it is the former) You love it when his ego flares up outta the blue and hit you on the face and he starts acting like a jerk. You adore his know-it-all seen-it-all attitude. Damn if this is love, I am better off without it. (In case you were wondering why most of the exemplary behavior revolves around food, I am yet to lay my eyes upon an interesting guy with good table manners. Most men eat like pigs. Period.) How the fucking hell do you know when you are in love???? Someone tell me!!!!! Till then I shall continue to believe that love is an illusion. February 18 Controversies GaloreThe recent trend in bollywood is “if you don’t create a controversy, you are a non entity”. Every other movie hitting the screen is plagued by controversy of one form or the other. Latest in the list is Ashutosh Gowarikar’s Jodhaa Akbar- a mughal romance. The charges leveled against the magnum opus starring Hrithik and Aishwarya is ‘misrepresentation of history’. I have not watched the movie and hence I do not have any right to comment on the movie or the allegers. However the juicy nature of the allegations make it hard to keep mum. So let me chip in my view too into the cacophony of views out there.
This movie is centered around the relation between Jalaludiin Akbar- the mughal emperor and Rani Jodhaa Bhai- a Rajput princess. It is an undisputed fact that Akbar did have a Hindu wife. She may not have been called Jodhaa. The film and the maker acknowledges that. However, there are references of the queen having been referred to as Jodha Bhai posthumously. So is the controversy all about a name? what is in a name?
The marketing for this movie was a first of it’s kind in bollywood in my view. The focus was on the romance rather than the grandeur of the sets and the big names starring in it. It was not marketed as Aishwarya Rai Bacchan’s movie or Hrithik’s movie but as a Mughal love story. Very rarely, do you get to see the marketing campaigns looking beyond the glitz and glamour into the core- A marriage of alliance or convenience to avoid a war turning into a romance that transcends time. Just for that one reason, the movie deserves a standing ovation. Set aside the views of pundits of history; set aside the reasoning that the movie is fiction, a work of art allowing the artist his form of expression; set aside Rani Padmini Devi’s (descendent of princess Jodhaa) comment on the authentic treatment given to Rajput history in the movie; set aside every single thread of reasoning and logic; Can we not just enjoy it as a movie should be? Just sit back with a pop corn and share the joy and pain of the tinsel town heros. Have we turned into a discerning audience who are no longer ready to take what is dished out to them without questioning? I doubt that. The very same junta lapped up the bizarre servings of OSO, but questioned the intention of Deepa Mehta’s Water. They could not digest the ideas and ideologies in Fire but did not have any issues believing that Sharukh Khan could re-incarnate to fight the evil. They set fire and blasted bombs in a theater screening Jo Bhole So Nihal. They destroyed the sets of Water because it portrayed India and Hinduism in a bad light. All this makes me wonder what would have happened to Vatsyayana and his Kamasutra if it were to be created in today’s India? It would not have seen the light of the day for many reasons. Censor board would have edited out most of the “offending “ parts. It would then brand him a pervert (which I think he was anyways)Some one would find a line or word that offends some caste, creed or sex. India would have lost it’s most famous contribution to the world of carnal matters. That would have been a disaster. Let us all rest in peace in a disaster averted. Let us sit back and enjoy the movies rather than complain about them.
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