Sunday, December 30, 2007

Thursday, December 20, 2007

Camping trip
















So I went for my first camping trip with Anshuman and eight other people. We wanted to take chole poori from Uttam restaurant but he doesn't make it in the mornings so we settled for aaloo parathas. In the morning Anshuman couldn't get a taxi to pick up the parathas so we went ahead with marinated chicken tikkas and boiled eggs. The good thing about camping is that everyone gets food more than they need so you can actually feed 5 more people than the ones present.
Ananth, Arti, CK , Anshuman and I were in Elsa ( ananth has lovingly named his car ) following Dipen in his Pajero. We drove and drove and reached a place in Al Ain where we were supposed to go through a check point which has recently begun asking for passport. So now we didn't know which route to take so we parked the cars and quickly ate some kokis ( paratha like things made with onions and something else i didn't figure out) standing on the roadside.
Then we reached some hot springs. There were a lot of people picnicking and some had pitched their tents in the park. I dipped my feet in the water which was pretty hot. Later a kid came and peed at the source of the spring and then turned around to walk away witha smile. Some women sitting a little further up took out their feet instantly. No one said anything because he was barely 4 years old and the parents clearly didn't care.
I went to a restaurant where no one was there. That's the weird thing about Al Ain. It's a very beautiful place with flowers lining the roads and big houses with big cars but there were no people. It felt like most people left and the rest were in their cars on their way out. There is a roundabout ever so often with pagoda like structure, giraffes, antelopes, deer to a huge carafe and glass.
We drove on and finally got to the desert. Pitched up tents. Took out the food. Lit the fire. Anshuman roasted the chicken. Ananth roasted the rann which took one and a half hour to cook and then fell in to the sand to everyone's horror. Everyone drank and sat around the fire. I learnt during the conversation that in Fiji there is a coup every four years and the tourism industry suffers for that year. Fiji people make extremely expensive exquisite coconut furniture. Someday.
Slept curled up in the tent and woke up to find that half the people had left to get chai. We were very close to the city. They came back with a tea pot and tea got made. Thank God. Then came packing up which is the most stressful part. Garbage needs to be collected. Tea pot had to be scrubbed clean to be returned. Everything had to go back in bags and reach their respective car boots.( I'm getting tired writing about it) The tents had to come down. Our tent had to be folded thrice before it finally fit into it's bag. Phew!
So all the cars left. We came to Dubai for lunch at Kalavara. Then went to Um al qwain to pick up Ninna and finally reached home. Had chinese food. I uploaded the pictures on facebook. FINALLY slept.
That's all folks! I gotta make tea as anshuman listens to an arabic song on tv as the video shows bikini clad bimbettes.



Thursday, November 29, 2007

Cleaning up and editing

So I have been cleaning up the house these past few days and bringing in new things. In the spirit of adding to the home I was going through some old pictures so I can put up some. Yes I was thin and therefore looked like someone else. I was with other people in another time wearing tie and dye clothes. Getting ready to do garba, looking into the mirror.
I have an album which has pictures of people on Cultural day putting menhdi on bald heads among other things. I am in touch with absolutely no one in this album and have no idea why I have it.
I found a dried rose and some torn photographs and I am blank. I don't know how that picture got torn and where the rose came from. Clearly I saved it for a reason all this time but I figured if I don't remember then it's not important. So I threw it away along with pieces of the photograph.
I realised that too many of my negatives are almost white thanks to everyone at NID shooting in low light including yours truly. Some wedding reception and honeymoon snaps came up. Some pictures of my pre diploma presentation made an appearance but didn't make the cut. I did pick one snap of me looking through the camera in a blue kurta which I kept wearing till it tore.
One of my favorite pictures is of four people, two guys and two girls laughing dressed in jeans and black leather jackets. Their joy is infectious even in the picture. I can sense our happiness even now. Three of these people are married but none to each other. No one marries their college sweetheart. Yes some people do but a large number of those finally go down the separation road to divorceville. Ok Ok some make it. Few. Very few.
I have a love hate relationship with my years at NID. These pictures are always tucked away in an adidas shoe box for a reason. It's like opening up Pandora's box and seeing a time when you felt invincible and vulnerable in the span of a moment. You fought little battles as if everything was a personal war. And you fought and fought because back then there was someone to fight with and we adhered to the rules not even realising that we did. And most importantly you won. And when you did there were at least a dozen people to cheer you on at any given point in time.
I don't know if I'm making sense. I have put away the shoe box back in the suit case on top of the almirah out of sight and by tomorrow out of mind.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Monday, November 26, 2007

A Mark Knopfler death

So the other day someone was talking about death. I found myself saying this- ' I am not afraid of my own death. I'm afraid of people around me dying.' I didn't know this till I actually spoke the words. I know that I will have a son at some point in life. I know that I will write a short book about my life which will never see the light of day. I know that I will always have a home. And just a while back as I was listening to Brothers in arms I pictured my dying. It came to me so clearly that I had to put it down. I will be an old old woman lying comfortable in an old old bed. Both of us frail and fat at the same time. My papery skin complimenting the papery canopy overhead. My darling husband naturally bald and handsome in a Pacino kinda way staring at me from a picture frame smiling benevolently satisfied at having died in my arms, knowing I could go on alone a while longer. My son and his children saying loving goodbyes.
Finally death and I will dance to the tune of Brothers in arms in a dark dark room.

Friday, November 23, 2007

just...




















I wonder if taking your picture against the sunset makes your life short....

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Tenacity


It's really quite amazing how life manages to move along day after day in such an untiring manner. You discover new music. You discover the sweet pain of looking cool in uncomfortable shoes. You eat your first salad meal. Then have two dinners. Discover strange lyrics such as - ' Living's in the way we die' You get a facebook request from someone who ignored you all through college. You read names of people you had totally forgotten and have no intention of getting in touch with. You wonder if the number of people you know but never talk with is bigger than the number of people you know and are in touch with on facebook. You get the faint smell of a scented candle on your table. It puts you in a good mood. You put pink curlers in your hair. You realise your hair looks smashing the days you don't go out and/or when outings get cancelled. You paint another horrible painting. You bathe the dog and brush her hair. She takes her nap in your lap. You're amazed at the capacity you have of feeling love for the tiny little thing. You smile. You let life amaze you with it's sheer tenacity.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

His highness Mr Anshuman Bald Kishore




My girl








Ninna makes herself comfortable amidst my expensive sofa cushions.










Wednesday, November 14, 2007

No good

It won't do no good
to walk in corridors with closed doors
to peep through circular clear glass
to try catching shifty eyes
to wait with bare feet on steel
to hide tears in urine bowls
It just won't do no good

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Various ways to wear a watch

I had to write 10 options at work. This is what i came up with

Wear it around your neck
Wear it as a large button on your shirt or jacket
A dial in the nose bridge of over sized glasses
Wear it as a ring on your finger
Wear it as a toe ring
Wear it as an ankle bracelet
Wear it as a broach on your shirt
Hang it from your belt
Use it as a buckle on a thin belt
Use it as a hair band

Now replace the watch with your heart.

Diwali

So I wore a nice silk kurta and played teen patti two night in a row! Won some lost some! Good fun. Did whatever puja I know how... didn't know any aartis so sang saraswati vandana i know from school. I hope Goddess Laxmi is not too upset.

Wish you a wonderful and luminous Diwali!

Sunday, October 21, 2007

The holiday

So I spent three weeks in India. Sharjah-Bombay-Goa-Bombay-Delhi-Bombay-Sharjah I flew and flew and flew and loved every minute of it. I can't even imagine that there was a time that I was a little bit afraid of flying. I would get nervous everytime the plane picked up speed and the engines made that nerve racking sound. Now I peacefully read my book without even bothering to look up.



I have asked many people and the vote is the same. When you're at the airport travelling alone you begin looking rather carefully at the people before and after you in the queue for the boarding card. You know that one of these characters is going to be your flight partner for the next however many hours. I personally have a mental image of the kind of person I want to travel with. It's unimportant what this image is the more pertinent thing is that I keep modifying this image to suit the people around me. Then I almost always pick one person who seems to be ideal to spend an hour or two with- with or without conversation thrown in. Now this person has never actually sat with me. Try it. Pick one person at the airport you want to sit with and you'll never be seated with them. In front of them, behind them, at the other end of them but never ever with them.



That's why I like to travel with Anshuman, that way there is no disappointment. That's marriage for you. Someone to sit next to on a plane. Speaking of marriage. I celebrated my 7th anniversary sitting behind my husband on a kinetic honda in Goa driving aimlessly on the sloping roads of Goa. We ended up in a really small town and kept circling it looking for a place to eat. We finally found a restaurant in a hotel. I think no one lived or ate there. We had a nice lunch and I bought pearl ear rings from a hotel shop which was like a small garage. Then we went up a small hill where the camera battery died. We had 5 chargers with us at the hotel. Oh please don't ask me why. I like SLR cameras. Always have. Even though it's apain to give them for developing and stuff. I still like them. Their batteries last much much longer and will not give up just when you would like to imprison a moment. So we came to a clearing and i wandered down a path to find a couple huddled in bushes. Embarrassed I turned around and giggled to myself.


In the night we walked for a long time and went to a restaurant Anshuman had seen when were coming back from our bus tour the day before. I was tired when we finally sat down for dinner. The dinner was lovely and then we walked back again to the hotel. I was exhausted from celebrating our anniversary and slept right away as Anshuman fiddled with the laptop and his wi fi card. Anshuman's holidays work if you know what I mean. That's marriage for you. You take working holidays and they actually work. OK I'm exaggerating.

We spent a chilled out day at Anjuna beach. I drank lassi and juice and Anshuman beer as we watched a drunk woman sprawled on the wet sand like a beached whale. Anshuman thought she looked like a Ram G Verma heroine striking sexy poses. Everyone watched her benevolently with understanding smiles till her friends took her away with a firm - ENOUGH!! I shopped at the flea market where everyone speaks English and I was mistaken for a Brazilian though I think it was just so I would be flattered at being mistaken for a foreigner and in my good mood would pick up something. The usual firangs were there in their swim suits and open shirts and it played jazz in the beachside cafe. I hate Jazz. I don't care if I'm considered musically illiterate. I just hate jazz.

I went into the water only once this time. The sand underneath was so uneven that I felt like I was drowning in chest deep water. Anshuman had to hold both my hands and guided me ou of the water. I must say I was petrified when my foot sunk in about a foot and my husband was much amused and entertained. Needless to say I don't know how to swim. Although I love putting lots and lots of sun block. In my case it seems to work as a fairness cream and after the evening bath I glow like a light bulb all set to lose money in the hotel casino. Their cashier smiled all the time, like he was really amused. I don't know if it was all the money he had or he had funny toes or his mom told him a joke before he left home each day, I don't know why he just looked down and smiled. All the bloody time. I finally asked him why he smiled all the time and...you guessed it- He just smiled.

So we went to this restaurant where I had my first Fish Curry rice and the waiter gave me a rose as we got up to leave and somehow I didn't mind. It was rather nice. Anshuman picked up a small shell on the beach and gave it to me saying- ' with this I thee wed ' He likes picking up shells but this one is special because it is my anniversary gift. I will always keep it. Smush smush mush mush.

Moving on. We came back to Bombay. I didn't do much. In Bombay you need too much motivation and stamina to do stuff especially if you live in Borivli. So I did very little. Next stop Delhi. I went to Noida everyday to the malls. Shopped. Ate fantastic food only my Mother can make. Spent time with my sister and then Bombay. Then back to Sharjah.

Recently I went to a club in Dubai and I made some wonderful notes on the way people dance but mostly I have forgotten. I just remember that I can never spend the whole night just dancing away like I did many times eons ago. I still love to dance but I take frequent breaks. I am a growing woman in need of regular exercise and a healthy diet. MAN that so sounds like someone else!!

Saturday, October 20, 2007

Post hamam zait





I want to write so much...about my holiday...about the way people dance and so much more...instead I am posting a picture of myself. I have to get off the computer and make chana. Later in the evening if I am not going out I promise I will write. Till then bear with the picture with the weird expression.
for those of you who don't know Hamam zait it means bath oil. So you take a bath put thick cream in your hair and massage then put a hot towel over your head then wash after ten minutes. The result is truly amazing as you can see in the picture above. I love blowing my own trumpet and advocating hamam zait to all.

Monday, October 08, 2007

Sisters



My younger sister Priyanka. I did her make up like numerous times before only this time after a really long time.



Sunday, September 23, 2007

The city of conveyor belts

It's been a long time and I haven't been able to write anything. I tried and many times wanted to write something badly but couldn't type one word.
Well it's 2 am in the morning and I am wide awake. I have slept most of last night and most of today so this is to be expected.

The city of conveyor belts

People move up slowly
People move down slowly
They stay still all the time
I look and look and look

I sometimes touch
I fish for the price tags
I try to keep the bag as I found it
It always topples over

I count the pockets in bags
I count zippers and thumb pins
I feel the soft insides
I smile at the shopping assistant

Can I help you?
I say- ' No'
I look at the reds, goldens, black, brown
and multicoloured

None of them are right
Sometimes the pockets are wrong
Sometimes the zip pullers
Sometimes the obscenely big brand name

As I walk away
I'm tired
and disappointed
I want to make my own bag

I can see it
The right color
The right number of zippers
The right inside cloth
The right outside leather
Perfect

Unfortunately I cannot make bags
So I bought some music instead
in the city of conveyor belts

Sunday, September 09, 2007

6381414

There's a woman who calls me at regular intervals and offers me a job in a leading advertising agency then she asks me how much money I want. I tell her. It's always a leading agency and sometimes I am inclined to think that it's just one agency repeatedly going through my resume and deciding not to hire me. But for some reason a faceless face decides to rethink one last time and my phone rings and it's the woman asking me how much money I want. I tell her. Again. She promises to call back. Like always she doesn't. It's like something that my friend said about her- " She calls and asks how much money I want and she asks more than once and just when I feel like I'm having sex with my wife she doesn't call back."
Then she calls this morning when I am in the middle of a dream in which for the first time someone told me a phone number- 6381414. I am tempted to call this number but am almost afraid. So the woman asks me for a portfolio and I don't have one. I delete everything as soon as possible including e mails and workstuff. So there is a message I would like to convey to the faceless face-' I do have a copy of all my films if you'd like to see them and enjoy the blog'
Now I am looking forward to the perks of being a freelancer. The afternoon half an hour sleep during which I will try to dial 6381414 and maybe a handsome stranger with a deep voice will pick up the phone and ask me," How much money do you want?" And I will smile in my sleep because I always know when it's a dream.

Saturday, September 08, 2007

Books and shit and shitty books

Something's happened...I haven't been able to finish a single book for the last couple of months. I seem to be picking up books that just don't hold my attention and I have been buying page turners...they just make me turn over...and sleep. I want to pick up an old favorite and read it again but I'm afraid what if I can't finish that too...may be I've lost focus.
Yesterday I was picking up a card with a message from a set of Angel cards. two times out of three it said- Focus. Everyone says Aag is a stupid fillum. I really want to see it. I have such trouble believing everyone else. In college people would orgasm over films that I slept through. I don't trust people with movies.
I want to talk about Radio again. I recently read a beautiful post on a friend's blog about Forces Requests. ( http://www.personalpresumptions.blogspot.com/) I have such beautiful memories of radio. Being about five years old and listening to Sangam programme every sunday morning. My father has a wonderful memory of me being very young and sitting with him listening to the radio. They asked the listeners to recognise the song from the beginning notes. I started singing- ' Aayega Aayega Aayega aane wala' and I was right. My father was happy and amazed. It's strange how one's childhood is mostly made up of memories of the parents and the elders more than one's own.
There are flashes that I remember of my childhood but my parents remember the entire vision. I wonder if I would want to remember my entire childhood if given the choice. There's a reason why we forget some things and remember others.
Like I remember this story my father used to tell me. I just remember that it had a horse which drank kerosene and then couldn't stop running and crapping at the same time. I remember laughing at this story till I rolled over in pain and then asked my father to tell it over and over again. He always obliged.
Someone recently told me that kids go through several phases like Oral Fixation and then Anal Fixation and such like. Point being that there is a stage when they love potty jokes. I know little about child psychology but I laughed really hard at all the potty jokes this person's 8 yr old daughter told me. So may be I have an anal fixation. Sigh! psychologists I tell you analyse everything to the point that spontaenity dies an unceremonious death.

Sunday, September 02, 2007

Anshuman


My Darling Husband that I love so much!!

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Radio

CK and Bindu (my friends) gave me a clock radio cd player, a belated birthday gift. I've tuned it to 5 stations which play western music. Just a while back a song was playing by this woman called Martika. I know 3 of her songs. Toy soldiers. Love thy will be done. Martika's kitchen. I used to love the first two songs. recorded them on the vcr and watched over and over again.
I like listening to the radio. Sometimes I feel like it has a much wider memory and coincides with mine often. And then there are times 4 channels play the news and the fifth some stupid song.
And then Don Henley sings Boys of summer and my faith in he utility of radio is restored till the dj starts jabbering like a fool.
I was just trying to upload yet another picture of myself and the blogger photo upload went phut. I think it's in no mood to put any more pictures of me on the blog. I totally understand.

Saturday, August 25, 2007

ciao

Everyone suddenly goes offline on saturday night and Sunday morning. It's people like me who keep checking their contact list anyways knowing full well that everyone in different parts of the world is meeting the very people they probably chat with during the week. My friends have gone off to see Hey Baby and don't like Salman Khan so I bowed out. Anshuman is watching 24 season 4. I have already seen it so no option of watching tv now.
Listening to the radio has made me realise that I like a lot more music than I initially thought I did. I tend to be very( found someone online, lone ranger on a saturday night like myself. brb. ranger not replying. LR going for dinne. said ciao. i only ever come across this word on chat. no one says it in real life.) finicky about the music I listen to. I try to keep it as soothing and soulful as possible. Although listening to Wanted( Dead or alive) by Bon Jovi made me realise that I do like a lot of songs by them and Def leppard and Guns and Roses and even some stuff by Aerosmith and Metallica. ( My darling friend with the musical name is online and having maid troubles in bangalore. My other friend who has a picture in which he looks like de Niro is leaving for home in UK)
Some posts are like literary marshlands and when you get one foot out of the mud the other one goes in deeper and you hope that you'll make it to the end however slow or an idea will come like an intelligent monkey and rescue you swinging from a banyan tree saying- wheeeeeee! ( Even I think that's funny) ok No monkey in sight yet...sinking deeper by the second...
I had a dream today in which I saw a friend singing and glowing like an angel. I tried to touch him but he always seemed out of reach. This friend M is seriously ill with cancer in real life. The doctors in India have given up. He may not make it. I did a tarot reading for him because another friend of mine S ( we all went to college together) insisted I do it. So I did and it wasn't good. I hated telling her about it. It was awful to write the words. I hope that I am wrong. I've been wrong before so I wouldn't be surprised if I'm wrong again. Strangely S also dreamt of M last night. A friend called her and said M passed away. My prayers are with him and I hope he will recover. Somehow.
Everyone has gone offline. It sounds so ominous...and eerie as if all the lights just went out. I should leave too. Ciao.

Friday, August 24, 2007

Hunger, cold and Hamam Zait

I am so hungry and cold I could die. Aaaaachhhhooo! I had some maggi for lunch and then munched on salted cashew nuts with ginger tea which was all very well for 6 'O clock. but it's 9:20pm now. I spent 40 minutes taking a bath as compared to my normal 10. I have started doing this thing for my hair called Hamam Zait. Essentially it means bath oil. My throat is hurting a little bit and I am not sure if it's hunger or cold. So you have to shampoo your hair, then put conditioner and then put this cream and massage it in. Then you have to let it soak in for 10 minutes if you cover your head with a hot towel or for 20 minutes minus the hot towel. I had the brilliant idea of soaking in the tub for 20 minutes and then washing my hair for the final time. I turned into a prune at the end of it and it didn't help that Anshuman was banging the door demanding use of the bathroom. I must have checked the watch for about 5 times waiting to get out of the water which was slowly turning cold. I took an extra hot shower and have been sneezing at regular intervals since then, although my hair feels and smells good. The question is- Is it really worth it to go to all this trouble to make your hair last a few years longer than it normally would? More importantly when is the take out guy going to ring the damn doorbell? I am going to die in the next three minutes if some food doesn't travel down my food pipe.
The radio is playing some disco music which I know has been copied by some hindi film music director in all probability Bappi Lahiri. By the way the priginal music is playing not the Bappi da version. I could listen to Dire Straits yet again but I have a feeling Mark Knopfler is frankly quite sick of performing the same song over and over again for me. No the take out guy is not here. I could be working but I'm not because I cannot work when I'm hungry plus when I still have a couple of hours to do it a little later anyway.
He's here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Palak Paneer and Rotis I ate in record time I'm sure. I'm happy now and I need to get to work.

the painting i made



i finally took a picture of the painting I made at that gallery in Dubai. I forgot the name. Man! the number of things I manage to forget is not funny. It's like everything goes into the spam folder and gets deleted on a monthly basis.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Profile foto

I've been trying to change it for some time and it just won't. It's eerie. It's like it just doesn't want to go away and keeps staring back at me like it's looking through layers of time reminding me that I am still the same in so many places. Eerie I tell you. I'm not the same. I want the photo to change too. But it won't. It just won't. It will stare at me like it knows something I don't. It probably knows the future just like my new photo will know it ten years from now.

Simply generally

I want to write something today because I'm sick of seeing my pictures. I don't know what I was thinking when I put up three identical ones. I could take them off but I am not going to make the effort of deleting the posts. So I'm going to try something new. I will write exactly what comes into my head.

Dire Straits is my favourite band these days. I have been listening to the album Brothers in arms ( just logged into yahoomail. I keep forgetting my new password...takes me a second to recall) I love Mark Knopfler's voice. It's like a soft caress that falls like petals on my palms. ( Yahoomail is full of forwarded mail from friend. Will do time pass and tell you about it so you can do timepass as well) I especially like the song Brothers in arms because it ( Anshuman called and asked me to google and check who sang the song Mast Mast in Guru so will do that. There is a hollywood kung fu type movie called Guru I stumbled upon on Guru.com and the .org doesn't have credits. I don't wanna do this any more. Trying musicindiaonline now. Pop up flashed open saying Do you want to miss your chance of staying and working in USA. Bingo! A.R. Rahman and Chinmayee sang the song Tere bina same as mast mast. Phew! Anshuman tells me he and his friend were confused about who sang the song so...) has words like baptisms of fire and Now the sun's gone to hell and it makes me wonderfully meloncholy. Another song I really love from the album is Why worry. I always get the image of twinkling stars when I listen to this song. All through my college life I wrote over and over again on all sorts of surfaces These things have always been the same.

It's 9:50 in the morning and normally I am asleep at this time but I had a vivid dream in the morning which woke me up. The radio is playing Eye of the tiger. Still playing. I am clearly out of words but I refuse to give up because this post has to be long enough to fill the page so I don't have to see the pics. News happening now. Eagles are set to release a new album and Gwen Stefani promises not to wear revealing costumes in Malaysia. Some strange song plays. This experiment in writing is falling flat on it's face I think but who cares. That's the thing about blogs. You can write whatever you bloody well feel like and people can stop reading whenever they bloody well feel like. If you're still sticking with me give yourself a badge for patience because even I have no clue where this is going and when it's going to end.

I think it just did.

Saturday, August 18, 2007

Just...3


Do you see me like I see you
through the mirrors...

Just....2


I flutter behind you so many times...
every second... making you smile
for no reason

just....1


I will wait with my eyes of stone...
for you to return...
through the magical doors of the evening...
into the living room of night

Saturday, August 11, 2007

It should rain


And then there are days when it should rain...
when you should be 7 and walk deliberately slow
from the bus stop...
get wet in the rain...
let it be drops of water instead of words...
let it rain

Friday, August 10, 2007

Here's to winners and losers

and winners who know how to lose. So I saw Chak de and really enjoyed it. The feeling of being in a team is unique and of winning even better. Even when I watch Tobey Maguire winning a horse race or Iqbal doing a chakravyuh or an all girls team winning the world cup it makes me clap with joy and I'm ever so happy.
What I didn't know was that I was just being set up for real life disappointment. I am a really sore loser. I think I already said that a few posts ago. I cry and cry and cry and indulge is self pity all the while telling everyone what a good sport I am and how it's no big deal that I didn't get what I had been working for and waiting for. So today I cried a little bit which is better than my usual bawling. I indulged in self pity for a while. Why isn't anything good happening to me? Why do good things only seem to happen to other people? Am I a good enough writer, poet, painter, film maker, wife, potential mother, dog owner, daughter, sister, daughter in law, sister in law and any other roles I may have forgotten. I kick myself and I feel like there's no place good to go from here.
Am I making a big deal out of everything? Ours is but to do and His is to give and He is ever so selective in what he gives us. I want to be a good loser since I am clearly not winning anything today. So I will try to forget about my disappointment and gear myself up to do it all over again and this time be better. That's what I was told to do. But for some time I just want to pay respect to tears because on the journey towards the sun they are like the wings of Icarus which melt and fall to the earth and the through the fire in one's heart the Phoenix rises defying death.

Thursday, August 09, 2007

New look

So I went to this store called Zara yesterday to get a birthday gift for a friend. It is an expensive store and has some beautiful dresses. For some reason I have not realised yet that I am too fat and too old to be wearing dresses. I just love spending time in the changing room. I get out of one dress and get into another one and then get stuck in another one and then struggle to get out of it and end up huffing and puffing looking through my dark glasses which have slid in front of my eyes from the top of my head. I promise myself I will try no more and then I come across another dress and then another one and I walk into the changing room again getting dirty looks from the sullen faced attendant. I change again and again till I finally get out with one final effort I decide I've just wasted an hour getting in and out of clothes that look pretty but don't fit.

So I went to the foodcourt and had really bad chinese which tasted like absolutely nothing.
And then I walked into The Body Shop and began buying some make up and before I knew it I had bought quite a lot of it. I was smitten. I couldn't stop. I bought beautiful bottles full of mysterious promises. Went to my friend's place all made up and felt really good complete with silver jewellery I recently polished.

When we left as we waited for the taxi I asked Anshuman- ' How do I look?'
'Nice' He said. ' Is it different?' I asked. 'No you look the same' He replied
So today I changed all my passwords and the look of my blog. Enjoy the new look!

Monday, August 06, 2007

Monday

and then there are days that begin beautifully with two kisses on the cheek and a ' Have a nice day' and then two hours of sleep during which you dream of poodles and other breeds of dogs...you only recognize French Bulldogs and poodles and the rest are a kind of blur that only dreams can achieve. You finally get up and sit in bed for a while thinking about film stars and musing over questions like ' Does Shah Rukh Khan really believe that he is a king?' You get out of bed and smile at the way your new calf length pajamas feel against the stubble on your legs. You thank God for cotton and other mercies.

You brush your teeth with extra vigour because this day has promise. You make the extra effort of reaching in the inner surfaces of some teeth and a fulfilled cavity. You love the taste of the 100% Indian Red Dabur toothpaste and check your teeth. It reminds you of a friend who reminded you recently that you were called Dracula in college due to the two protruding teeth in front. You smile. You like the idea of being a vampire. Never having to die. You smile.

You go to the kitchen and take out the dog's food. You put on the tea. You straighten up the living room. You go back to the kitchen. Water is boiling. You put milk. Lots of it. You switch on the computer and leave it to warm up. You go back to the kitchen. The water and milk hasn't boiled over like it does everyday. You smile. This day has promise. You put in the tea. You swish the tea around till it's the right colour. You put in your password on the computer. You go back to the kitchen. You take the tea in an Archies mug which says happy birthday. A gift from a close friend.

You sit down in front of the laptop and put on Dire straits and get online. You take a sip of the tea. It's perfect. You begin to dance sitting on your chair. You're happy. Truly happy. Then you chat with a friend about inane stuff. You finally get to work. You open the relevant word file. You think about the second draft of a script which does not deserve a second draft. You remember you had a brilliant idea last night but now you're blank. So you concentrate hard on Dire straits instead. You check your blog. No new comments. You instinctively click on blogger. You begin writing and before you know it the tea is finished and so is the new post.

Friday, August 03, 2007

some small stuff

a. Orkut is banned in UAE. Apparently it has a community called Dubai sex and the government banned it. Apparently it had 200 members. All sorts of porn and Hi5 type sites are already banned. Facebook is not banned although it also has a community called Dubai sex. If you're working in Dubai Media city you can access all sites. Nothing is banned there. The point? Those of you who have been sending me messages on orkut please e mail me instead.

b. Anshuman woke me up yesterday at a time that I am usually dancing or flying in my dreams. The tea strainer had gone missing. I woke up instantly knowing that like most people Anshuman cannot function without his morning cup of tea. I got up and looked everywhere including under the washing machine in the kitchen. I apologised and he said he was already having tea. So I called for a new strainer. He left. The strainer came. It's three times as big as my usual one. I thought may be I could use it to strain juice but I never make juice. I kept wondering where could the strainer have gone. I thought may be the guy who comes to work at our place took it but then couldn't believe that he would steal an old strainer with tea stuck in it's holes on the sides. ( By the way in order to clean yoyur strainer of chai bits you should burn it on the gas. It may smell for a while but it will get cleaned. Mom said.) Finally I looked in the spoons drawer one last time and found the strainer under the big ladle I use for tadka. I ended up feeling so guilty for doubting that my man Friday had stolen it. Awful.

c. I love 300 the movie. I am unable to decide why. The hero Leonidas speaks with a slight lisp and yet it sounds so good. I love it when he screams things like - Spartans! Tonight we dine in hell! Many times I scream the same thing when there's nothing for dinner. I love the dark and saturated colours of the visuals. I love the way the hero defends his wife. Most of all I find the character of Xerexes really amazing. His towering presence and the homosexual overtones and deep voice. I think it's strange that I enjoy seeing men in briefs and capes killing mercilessly...but I do.

d. Most shops in Sharjah do not sell bras without padding. The only reason I can think of is that Arab woman are small breasted and need structural help. Considering they are covered from head to toe in an abaya they seem to have expensive and sexy taste in their innerwear. There are all sorts of thongs, bras, leotards and silk lingerie available... and all the while women covered in black browse with glee.

e. My work table looks like a bomb blast with three computers and all sorts of other assorted stuff and I'm really hungry. I will eat then clean then may be draw something....may be

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

Cricket

Cricket and I have had a long, uncomfortable and interesting history. It has been in my life ever since the time I have had a man sitting next to me beginning with my father. I have wanted to write about it for a long time but I always felt that I would be biased and negative. So I've decided to tell you a little bit about the good things about cricket which ofcourse are few and far between but there nevertheless.

The very first memory I have is when we had a black and white tv and my father would sit in front of it and my mother and I would give him company. At this point I think I was too young to have had any real opinion. When my father shouted in excitement- 'Chakka!!!' I would happily clap along with him bringing the house down banging his palms against one another. I am yet to meet someone who can clap louder than my father or for that matter laugh louder and more openly than him. He clearly enjoys his happiness and cricket is a big part of it.

So let's talk about Pakistan. Yes obviously we want them to lose but what about Imran Khan. I still remember the slow motion shots of him taking a run up and his beautiful hair bouncing up and down. It almost made me wish he would get a wicket even when he was bowling against India.

In any case I have seen that whenever I show any real interest in a cricket match India loses. As a matter of fact if I root for any person or team they lose. If I make a bet on a sport I lose. If I play cards I lose. If I play scrabble I lose. If I play pictionary I lose. If I play tabboo ( this new game I've recently discovered) I lose. I always win at Ludo. I used to insist Anshuman play with me so I could win and be happy. He actually did play for some time till we both got bored of it and switched to playing rummy. I did win at rummy sometimes. I think I used to keep playing till I won. It made for long nights but finally I found happiness in winning and Anshuman relief in finally having lost.

So let's get back to cricket. One day a friend of mine told me that someone in the neighbourhood had got a colour tv. I was so excited that I couldn't hold myself. We ran to that house which was on the ground floor fortunately. We hung from the veranda wall and looked into the living room with the beautiful colour tv. Naturally there was a cricket match on. For a long time I hung from that wall with my feet dangling below and enjoyed the match with the green grass and colourful audience. It was lovely.

Then there was the time India won the world cup. Ravi Shastri won an Audi and the whole team sat in the car and roamed around the cricket ground. I remember feeling very happy. Unfortunately India has not repeated that feat. I hate to admit there have been times when I have sat in front of the tv hoping India would win and they lose and I feel cheated and it makes me wonder if it's me or them.

Earlier people loved cricket just as much as today but now when I look at the tv screen and go through the pre match and the mid match and the post match analysis. It makes me bonkers. Earlier I can hardly remember who were the commentators or for that matter who the umpire was. Ok I do remember Dicky Bird but that's just because he has a funny name.

Anyway I think nowadays the match has become more of a power point presentation when all that matters finally is whether the 11 idiots on our side can get the 11 idiots on their side out or not. Then there is the cricket technology no that is not typo it is not just technique which is totally another ball game but the technology. The stupid banners which come on in between selling cell phones and some little animated people come and dance when someone goes out. I remember one really nice animation of a duck walking along a player when he got out on Zero. Now that used to be fun.

Someone please tell the commentators to stop talking about the weather. It's like they REALLY have nothing better to talk about. I can actually empathise with Harsha Bhogle's daily struggle formulating the same question in 50 different ways so that Gawaskar and Shastri can sound intelligent about the freaking weather.

That's it I'm too pissed now. Even writing about it pisses me off. I started out with all good intentions and look where I am now.

So I'll give it another shot.

Andrew Flintoff.

I forgive cricket for him.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Somebody send me August

So I have my new laptop Compaq Presario Widescreen v6000. Sounds so impressive :) I am mostly happy with it. The battery needs to be changed because it doesn't work. I got a webcam as a gift which also doesn't work. BUT it has an in built mike and speakers both of which work as I talked to anshuman in the morning today. Microsoft works works. Microsoft word works. I have a dial up internet connection so I have to sit on the table to get online, the good part is that the connection is slow but works.

Life has been reeeally reaally slow. Honestly absolutely nothing of consequence has happened in the last month. Everything seems to be in the pipeline and I am spending my time waiting and watching patiently like a pregnant woman for August to arrive. Those of you who are only too ready to misunderstand Anshuman has not knocked me up. Not yet anyway. These days I find him in all parts of the house talking to himself and saying, 'I want to have babies', 'I want to have 25 babies', ' Can I have babies with you?','I can have 25 babies' and some other versions of the same sentence.

Recently someone was asking me for the nth time when am I planning to have a baby. I have run out of things to say to that. I used to say we'll wait for 2 years then it became 1 year and now if I don't pop out a little one soon I will have nothing left to tell people who ask me this question. Any good news?

Ninna ( Who by the way is really pretty much a baby!) has found a ball wich makes a peeeeen noise when she presses it between her teeth. Now she is going all around the house making that God awful noise. I want to take it away from her but then it's some distraction for her.
Somebody send me August...

Sunday, July 01, 2007

Stupish!

So here we are at the beginning of my first Microsoft Works Word Processor. I need to cut my nails. I can’t manage to type. Hang on a sec. Yes much better. It’s been quite some time since I wrote anything on my blog mostly because I was in Bombay busy meeting friends and then in Sharjah feeling happy about many things about which I will tell you one by one.

I showed my film to Kuntal and nandita at their new home with Meha screaming in the middle. Thankfully the response to the film has mostly been positive although I sometimes feel that may be everyone is just being polite and it’s actually a horrible film. Just yesterday I showed it to a couple of friends who also liked it and again I got that same eerie feeling. I think I can’t shake off the feeling that I could have done so much better. Really I could have and it leaves me strangely dissatisfied.

Then there’s the matter of film festivals. I have sent the film to two of them. Am planning to send to one more. Sometimes I think it’s like setting yourself up for disappointment. Sometimes I think that if I was on a jury I may not select my own film. I’m ashamed to say I have very little faith in my own creation. On the other hand I have elaborate daydreams about the film getting selected everywhere and everyone loving it and then a book of poems will come out and my ultimate dream of finally getting published will come true and then Ninna licks my face saying,’’ Hello I’m itchy, please rub my tummy’

So while coming back from Bombay to Sharjah I stood in line to get my boarding card. I had a suitcase, a tripod, a cloth handbag and a leather handbag. I saw someone taking out a perfume bottle and putting it in their baggage to be checked in.

Then I heard the woman tell him not to take any foodstuff with him. I went and asked her if I could take the parathas. She thought for a while and then said’ you can take parathas but not chatni.’

I thought for a while if I should ask her about aam ka achaar and decided against it. They don’t give you food on Air Arabia and their sandwiches will leave you feeling sad and cold much like themselves. Then she spotted the tripod and told me to put it in the suitcase.
‘There’s no space’ I said helplessly.
‘They won’t let you through security. You could hit someone on the head with the tripod.’
So I opened the security tape and transferred the perfumes and the tripod in the suitcase, took out a bag of 5kg rice and put it in my handbag. I walked to the other end of the place and put my suitcase through again.

I came back to the airline counter and stood in line. When at last my turn came I put my suitcase on the weighing machine.

She said,’ You’re 8 kg over weight’
‘ Actually I’m 20 kg overweight’ I wanted to say but didn’t.
‘What are you carrying in your hand baggage?’ She asked
‘ Rice’ I said
‘Rice?’ She said
‘Rice?’ the woman next to her said
‘Chawal’ I said
‘Rice you cannot take in hand baggage’ she said
‘ So what do I do with it’ I asked. What could I do with a bag of rice on a plane? Hit someone on the head with it? I thought,
‘Keep it in your suitcase or get another bag that you can check in’
‘ Then you keep it!’ I said. I was ready to take out my tripod and beat her senseless by now and what stopped me was that the tripod didn’t belong to me.
‘ You will have to pay excess baggage’ She said.
‘ I can’t pay excess baggage’ I couldn’t due to really poor financial management on my part.
So I opened the security tape again and pushed my trolley to the other end of what seemed like a constellation. I had to buy a bag worth 50 Rs for 950 Rs. I managed to put the bag of rice back into the suitcase and the tripod fit in as well somehow. The guys at the baggage screening told me to get the bag weighed before they would put the tape again. So I pushed my trolley to the other end of the constellation and weighed my suitcase which was just the right weight this time, so I walked…you know the drill.

Finally got my boarding card and I went to the loo with sheer relief.
I looked for the immigration form and couldn’t find it. I couldn’t find the passport either. I was sure I left it in the loo along with the trolley. I said the f word many times and ran to the loo. The trolley was where I left it but my documents were all missing. I should have cried then and there but I’m made of tougher stuff than that plus I would have missed my flight so I looked inside my bag again and found everything neatly tucked in the book I had taken along to read. I had obviously forgotten about it.

So I made it to Sharjah with my suitcase and bags and everything else. Anshuman came down and paid for the taxi. I came home to a dog who was so happy to see me that I forgot all about the bag of rice which is still sitting on my kitchen counter.

We went for a party for Nonie, the little 8 yr old we know. I found her pouting with her face in her hands. Her friends were being mean to her she said. I tried to put her in a good mood for some time though didn’t quite succeed. There were kids all around and the gifts ranged from a small refrigerator, cell phone to an easel. Lucky girl! She has taken my phone number and I have promised to call everyday.

That night was my birthday. Anshuman got a cake for me and everyone sang happy birthday. Twice. After a few rounds of teen patti we came home. On my birthday Anshuman surprised me with a laptop. I totally love it. Ananth and Anshuman took part in a quiz that day and stood 4th in 92 teams. It was great to see him on stage. It made me very happy.

He is in Cairo for a shoot right now and I miss him terribly as Ninna sleeps at my feet and dreams of the days when the bell rang and her favorite person in the whole world stood at the door and said,’Stupish!’

Friday, June 15, 2007

back to bombay

got back to bombay last night at midnight. Met Mohit Chauhan on the way. For those of you who don't know who he is , he's the guy who sang Dooba Dooba from Silk Route. He kept wearing a cap throughout and I think it's to hide his bald spot though i can't be sure. Anyway I took his autograph for Anshuman who really likes the song.
When I saw him standing in line to get to the security check I asked him,' Excuse me, aren't you the guy that sings?' He was taken aback and then mumbled silk route so I exclaimed, ' I love your song!' He said ,'Thank you' I am one of the most tactless people i know, although I like to think of myself as spontaeneous in order to delude myself.
So Delhi was hot as hell. I bough five kurtas from Fabindia. (Anshuman is reading the last sentence over and over again! heh heh ) I came home and decided to try one of them. I picked up a beautiful yellow one and as got into it I realised it's a nightie. It's difficult to explain the surprise.
I bought a bone for Ninna which claims that it will clean her teeth and may be even take care of her doggy breath.
I am at Avon as I write this. Had lunch with Mukul which was cooked by him. Bajra roti, rice, chicken and mashed aaloo. So I'm listening to Pet Shop Boys on the comp. I get very nostalgic in this house. I spent so many years here. And now it looks all different. The walls are the same and are new all at the same time. Mukul has done an excellent job of cleaning up and organising this space. Although I feel like a Bergman movie when I'm here. I see myself singing, dancing and being in love in this house. Probably the reason why I can never stay here for too long and run away to Raheja. I resist nostalgia with all my might. I prefer the present but the past has all enveloping soft arms beckoning as I walk away.

Saturday, June 09, 2007

Some words

had to take an early morning flight last night so got up at an unearthly 3 am...slept through the flight. Came home had tea and slept again. Bombay was hot as sin and Delhi is hot as hell. The poor little ac in my room has given up and is throwing hot air.
SO the film is finished. DVD copy made. Mini dv and Digibeta will be picked up tomorrow. This film has happened so quickly that my teachers at NID would be really proud. Like a lot of other students I nearly always ended up finishing my projects way past the deadline. At the end of my diploma jury I was gently told to make sure I was careful about schedules and deadlines or else the industry would not tolerate me. Like a lot of good teachers they were right.
I managed to make good use of Ananth’s handycam and Navnita’s alive eyes and expressive face. The poem with little Nonie is the only one I really like. I haven’t decided my feelings about the rest of them... at least being undecided is better than disliking the film altogether which I did till Mukul insisted he really liked it...at first I thought he was just being really kind but I think he was really being sincere. Now I think may be it's not all that bad. The film is called Some words although in hindsight I should have called it A lot of words. Heh heh.
I'm so glad it's finished.

Sunday, June 03, 2007

in mumbai

so I got here day before yesterday. Took an ac taxi thinking the traffic would be killer at night like the last time I was here. The taxi did not stop even once on the way. Went to town and shot at the Time out magazine's office with Mukul. Met Kuntal's daughter Meha who looks like a reduced xerox of her Grandmother. Had lunch and sandwich with Kuntal at a coffee house on top of Crossword. Purely out of habit went to the occult section and found that the only tarot cards available are beginner sets. Touched some books at random. I like touching books. It's a feeling which borders on intestinal excitment and cardiac thrill of opening a virgin page. People in bookshops are almost always very relaxed. I love that about bookstores apart from the books themselves.

Have booked a studio and editor for the film and will begin the process tomorrow. Will choose music from Mukul's extensive collection. I ask myself if I really LIKE making a film and honestly I don't know. While in the process of it I get strangely disconnected from it and after it is over I completely disconnect. I recently told someone' I am not emotionally connected to my poetry. I am connected to it while I write it but once it's on the paper. I easily forget.'

Thursday, May 31, 2007

Mukul



So I decided to write a little something about people I care about. As most of you who read my blog would know that the above picture of an irritated guy is Mukul. He is Anshuman's brother and therefore my brother in law. I still remember the first day I met Mukul. He was one of the most prim and proper people I had ever come across. Later ofcourse I was to witness a different side to him when the two brothers would make up awful songs and sing while driving.

We shook hands and talked for a little while after which he went away. Later in the day I saw the books he had on cinema in particular a book on Tarkovsky. A tape of the movie Blue. I just drooled and drooled. I still believe that one of the reasons I married Anshuman is that I wanted to get my hands on those books and collection of movie tapes.

Many times I would come home from work and crib and crib about the people in the film and tv industry. He would listen patiently and gave some very good advice. He has had much more experience with them and knows how things work. As time passed I have come to know some good friends thanks to him. He happens to know hazaar people and I mean literally. He spends most of his life on the phone. I think the entire city of Bombay has his phone number and calls him day and night. He has this habit of walking around in urgency when he speaks on the phone. I have bumped into him too many times to count just going from living room to kitchen. I doubt that he has ever seen a whole tv programme. He is bound to get a phone call in the middle of it. If I didn't know that he is a cinematographer I would think he is an underworld Don wheeling and dealing on a daily basis. Heh heh. Seriously he's a sweetheart.

He is one of the most caring people I know. I wanted to write him a testimonial on orkut but they have a word limit and in Mukul's testimonial that just won't do. He is very organised and has an excellent memory when it comes to music and movies. He can be extremely forgetful when it comes to day to day things. He nearly always comes back home after leaving the first time because he has forgotten something or the other.

It's hard for him to refuse a favour and ends up doing stuff he would rather avoid. He takes care of the relationships in his life with a lot of love. His patience levels are amazing and he rarely loses his temper. So you have to be careful when pushing his buttons. He just might erupt like a volcano and then there's no handling him.

All that said I'm glad I know him. He's an excellent cinematographer and an even better person.

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Cyprus folder


So I was going through my folder named Cyprus and found Anshuman's picture at the Amphitheater. Now I can't remember what place this is. I got a lovely photo album from Cyprus but it is still lying empty. I saved ticket stubs and brochures and all such stuff to put in it and they are all lying in the drawer on my left hand side. The reason being that i have choose the pics for which i want prints then anshuman will get them done and then i will put them in the album. I'm getting tired just writing it down but I promise I will do it some day.

So I'm going to Bombay on Friday and then going to Delhi after one week and then back to bombay after one week and then back to sharjah. Don't ask me why. It has something to do with cost of tickets and the want to want to see one's mother father and sister and making a film. Not in that order.
A friend recently sent me her resume, some of it reads as follows

Core Competencies

Conceptualisation/ Visualisation
Ability to fulfill the transition from blueprint till complete realization and give concrete parameters to product as well as advertising by conceptualizing as well as visualizing the scope, markets and creative content.

Research and Content Development
A fundamental area of expertise backed by unmatched experience in the dual spectrum of researching a subject in the ab-initio stage and then developing the content in it from scratch.

I was reeling for several minutes.

Atul, Aparna, Anshuman, Rohan and Mukul

so I went to record my voice and had to turn back even before I got out of Sharjah because of the traffic. I have to go again tomorrow therefore will have to wake up at an unearthly hour of 7:30 in the morning. Sadhe saat baje mere farishtey bhi nahin uthte. I will have to do it for the good of the film. The higher purpose in my life.

I have lately got into the habit of day dreaming before I go to sleep every night. I envision all sorts of futures. Most of these futures are grand imaginary flights of fancy. The others are rather sad like sometimes I wonder how I would feel if Ninna died in childbirth. No she is not pregnant. It is difficult to breed French bulldogs because they have a big head and therefore are tough to deliver. Ninna is so small that I would be petrified if she were to carry pups so we have decided to sterlize her. It feels rather cruel and on the other hand it is the best thing for her.

I have been sitting for 5 minutes staring at the screen thinking what to write. This is what happens when you try to do something regularly. I think I've already said that somewhere. Dejavu happens to me so very often that sometimes I feel like life is a repeatition of everything that's happened before. Nothing new really ever happens. I have also realised that the radio in my head plays tunes that I thought I had long forgotten. Like this song which goes something like- ' Sweet for my sweet. Sugar for my honey" For the life of me I don't know where it has come from. I have been waking up with it for the last three days. The radio in your head does not stop when you want it to...especially when you want it to. So you'll have nonsense lyrics like -" Dam dara dam dara mast mast dara dam dara dam dara mast mast" going on and on in a neverending loop. I have realised the best way to get rid of the tune is by singing it out loud once followed by a more pleasant and acceptable tune.

As always I have some work to finish but I don't feel like doing it. As always I will do it at the very last moment. I went to an extremely disciplined school and learnt nothing.

Thanks to Atul, Aparna, Anshuman, Rohan and Mukul for reading my blog. I intend to be as regular as possible for you and more importantly for me. I get surprised by the stuff I write not because it's great or any such thing but because I wrote it at all.

Friday, May 25, 2007

Bang

So today things started with a bang. I dreamt that I was riding on one of those bicycles that are pedalled by two people at the same time ( I use that phrase because I am not sure how to spell simultaeneously). So this thin guy was riding in front of me and I was at the back. We went up a hill when I stopped pedalling. Suddenly two men came along on a motorcycle and almost crashed into us and then started fighting with the thin man. Soon the thin wan was on the ground. Then they got on the motorbike and came at me. I picked up my part of the bicycle( Some how it had come apart) and hit on one guy's head. He came back at me and I hit him on the head again. He kept coming back. Suddenly there was a sound of a crash. I had flung the glass ashtray on the floor in one smooth motion. With a bang.

Anshuman and I spent almost all day watching Kiefer Sutherland save his family on 24. I fixed lunch and now ( bell rang) he's gone off to play tennis after being upset that his t-shirts are mysteriously disappearing. There was an Arab woman with a kid at the door. They come periodically looking for money from sympathetic residents of the building. I didn't open the door and Ninna looks disappointed.

I just booked my ticked. I'll be in Bombay during the first week of June shooting and editing and stuff...and yes Aerosmith comes to town coming thursday. will go see them. I don't know how someone like Steve Tyler manage to produce a daughter like Liv Tyler.

Thursday, May 24, 2007

blogging regularly

so I have considered Aparna's suggestion and have decided to write regularly. So here I am. I have just checked my gmail. My friend inAhmedabad, the only one who writes to me regularly has written words of encouragement to push me towards finishing my poem film which I mentioned some time back. I have not made a film in many years and now I find myself shooting with a handycam mostly without a script. God alone knows what the end product would be. The only thing I am semi confidant about are the poems themselves. I think they are pretty good although I feel rather stupid saying that. This is what happens when you decide to do something regularly...after a while you end up feeling stupid.

On the other hand some time back I was going through some stuff I had written earliear and it was good to read about the good times and relieved to read about the bad now that they are in the past. So from now on I will try to write regularly.
Hmmmmm....

Have started watching 24 1st season. It is supposed to be in real time. Each episode is one hour duration. Pretty exciting series. Some time ago I saw the first season of the series Rome. That was really good too. Clearly I am running out of things to say. Let me try and go on. Ninna is sleeping inside the comforter. She spends most of her time sleeping. She has no sense of routine and discipline. I think she's got that from me.

The earlier Hariya my plant died so I have got Hariya 2 and this time with instructions. He has to be watered once a week. He is to sun himself only once in two weeks for an hour. I have made a note in my extremely thin organiser. Phew! I'm running out of steam again.

And now I have officially run out of things to say so till next time....

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

3 people

There was something I wanted to say but I have totally forgotten what it was. Yes I just remembered- Ihave a sneaking suspicion that only three people read my blog. Mukul, Anshuman and by default me.

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Procrastination


I just wanna tell you what I'm feeling
Gotta make you understand

Never gonna give you up
Never gonna let you down
Never gonna run around
and desert you

Never gonna make you cry
Never gonna say Goodbye
Never gonna tell a lie
and hurt you

AND the award for the most unimaginative lyrics goes to Rick Astley for Never gonna give you up!!

So I have to finish some little work but I am not doing it. I don't want to do it. I want to write" I don't feel like doing it" on the word file and send it to the client. I wonder what she will have to say...may be something like " I don't think this is working out. We could still see each other socially but we must never mention the breakdown of our professional relationship in any capacity to anyone. You may call when bored but only after 6:30 pm' ( I do that. I call her when bored with some inane detail and make her talk to me unnecesserily. I insist she call me everytime she sends mail. I call her when I send her mail as well. Altogether it has been a very healthy relationship.)

Today I am in no mood to work or did I already say that. I have actually sent a forwarded mail to everyone on my add list. It shows a Lion hugging a man and nearly giving him a sloppy wet kiss. I like the email so I sent it to everyone I know. I don't like forwarded mail very much except on days like this when I want to do everything else but what I'm supposed to do.

So I made tea. Then I drank it. Then I checked my gmail. Then I started feeling guilty so I opened two word files and let them sit in a state of readiness to be worked on. Then I called Anshuman and insisted he call me " My pomfret" I have asked him to refer to me as a Pomfret from now on. Don't ask me why.

I put on the radio and they were playing that Rick Astley song. 99.3 Radio 2 is a beautiful radio station. It plays all classic hits. Annie Lennox is singing Why right now. I remember the video which makes her look like a vampire doing her make up.


That suddenly reminded me of that lovely song by A-HA Take on me. I loved the animation. The way the cute girl goes inside the comic book. I found the above picture on wikipedia...talk about nostalgia!

I am chatting with a friend who has totally complicated his life. I end up being agony aunty for many of my friends. He can't seem to decide if he should marry the girl he loves. I thought you were supposed to marry someone you love. There are problems and then there are created problems.

Ah! Dancing in the dark playing now. I so want to be Courtney Cox and be called on stage to dance with Bruce Springsteen.( where your mind will go when listening to a song!!) Whenever I listen to 'I'm ready' by Bryan Adams I remember dancing by myself in my basement room at NID. It sounds very Ally Mcbeal now but it was much before the neurotic heroine made an appearance on tv.

I really should finish work. Ah BTW I am going to shoot something after a long time day after tomorrow. Am making a short film based on my poems. I have no money to pay an editor. Have borrowed a friend's camera.
Best things in life are free. Are you willing to edit for love?

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Being pissed off

So I'm really pissed off for a multitude of reasons-

a. I didn't get a call I was expecting and I can't call back for fear of appearing needy on the other hand my inner voice is constantly telling me, " Fuck appearances!" Thankfully I take everything my inner voice tells me with a bag full of salt.

b. I didn't go to a place I should have as a direct result of expecting the aforementioned phonecall. Inner voice tells me, " You're entirely too hopeful and disorganised" I beg to differ because I actually have a planner which tells me exact birthdays and lesser appointments and not future.

c. I have a pain in my neck which comes and goes in the manner of someone who chooses to be your friend but isn't really. Inner voice has said several times to take Panadol but... yes you guessed it I haven't taken any. I'll just wait till it goes away or gets bad enough for me to go to a doctor or inner voice begins saying over and over again ' It's throat cancer! It's throat cancer!"

d. Ninna is in heat. For some reason I thought bitches didn't have periods. The vet has told me to buy some panties for kids and make her wear them so she wouldn't spot everything she sits on. I am still recovering from this. Ninna is sluggish and non responsive mostly and my inner voice is quiet on the subject. Although it just said, " What do you think happens when a bitch is in heat?" I ofcourse thought it mates with a dog or several dogs but the notion of blood didn't enter my head. I'll stop on this subject right away and apologise to those who have been grossed out by it.

e. Anshuman is watching a movie with guns in it. It is loud and mostly incomprehensible saga of drugs and violence. The loudness of it is what gets me plus some movies overdo background music I think for the lack of any dialogue. I prefer sword fights as a sword makes a swish sound as it chops off a head. Much easier on the ears although tougher on the eyes.

So these are the reasons why I am pissed off in general althoughy lovely 80's music makes things better. So many memories attached to the songs...next post about memories and songs...watch this space..Inner Voice," Yeah right they'll be watching for a month!" Oh shut up.

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

conversation

Anshuman( After a couple of drinks standing at one end of the kitchen) - " Do you want the toast? You know I'm not going to give it to you. You can look at me like that for as long as you want but I won't change my mind. Do you think this toast is so important? Do you believe that toast is life?

Ninna ( sitting at the other end of the kitchen probably thinking) - "So you gonna give me the toast or wot?"

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

I'm in love

Yes I'm having an extra-marital affair. I have fallen hopelessly in love ever since I made a painting at Jam Jar, an art gallery where you can go and paint whatever you like. They provide you with all the acrylic colours, brushes of all sizes and a colorful apron. I made a nice drawing of a woman with a fish tail and wings who seemed to be drowning instead of flying due to the wrong angle of drawing. Then once I got started with the colours it was like I had a taste of heavenly love. I forgot about what I had drawn as the magic of brush strokes took over. It took me barely an hour to finish the 2x3 ft painting and I was exhilerated like never before. I didn't fall in love with what I made but I fell in love with how it made feel as I was painting it.
The painting hangs in our living room now. Anshuman thinks it looks incomplete. I beg to differ and in any case I'm the artist so I get to decide when the painting is done. Feels really good to call myself an artist, sends little shivers down my spine. So there was a lull after that as it costs a lot of money to paint at Jam Jar and going to Dubai to do it. Someone told me about this place called Emirates Trading which sells art supplies. So I went. I walked around in that small shop for nearly an hour just drooling at boxes and boxes of water colors, dry pastels, oil pastels, oil colors, different kinds of papers, easles, sketch books, charcoal, loads and loads of beautiful winsor & Newton brushes and all sizes of canvases. Bryan Adams comes to mind- Thought I'd died and gone to heaven. I just didn't want to leave. Since I had decided not to buy anything I came back empty-handed.
The shop moved very close to where I live so one afternoon I went looking for it and after taking a circular route finally landed at the door of my beloved. Several carpenters were working outside and a cloth banner with the shop's name hung outside. Inside was a bit of a mess but I was thrilled to be there so I walked around again opening and closing boxes and sketchbooks. Some of the colours come in these lovely wooden boxes so beautiful I may never use any of the colors lest they should lose their pristine quality. My dilemma was becoming whether I liked painting or being in the presence of colour. The sheer potential for beauty was killing me. I sighed a deep sigh as the shopkeeper smiled a tired smile. I left thinking I will come back when the shop is in order.
So then one evening I washed my hair and got dressed in nice clothes to go to the shop to buy some colours. I was positively glowing and there was a spring in my step. I was in love. This time the shop was in a better shape though there were still carpenters working inside. I looked around till I had touched nearly everything. I picked up some water colors, a large sketch book and 5 brushes. Triumphantly I put them in front of the shopkeeper and asked-" Do you accept credit cards?" He looked at me like I was nuts and said -" I just got my phone line today" My face fell with a loud thud. " Oh!" I said. I turned around to go and then turned back to ask how much was the sketch book. He told me. I did have that much cash so I fished for my wallet which for the first time here I had left back home.
I quickly walked out. Ghalib comes to mind-" Bade be-aabroo ho kar tere kooche se hum nikle" which roughly translated means I left your street much embarrassed. ( I apologise for the bad translation)
So now the plan is to go to Bombay and find a similar shop which will cost me less and provide me with the same satisfaction. Although I will always be in love with Emirates trading. I believe love once born does not go away, like energy it just changes form. What do you think?

Sunday, February 25, 2007

So much I've said

So it's been a really hectic weekend of fun. I think if I have too much fun, I get tired and want to crash on the sofa with a good book and Ninna at my feet chewing her stuffed rat.

These days she has taken to standing on her hind legs on the sofa and stare out of the window. For some time I thought she must like the view from the 20th floor but when she began to constantly bark, which she rarely does otherwise I figured that she could see her reflection in the glass and was most pissed off by it.

Then she started looking out of the window during the day. This time I was sure she just needs time to think about whether she really likes the Royal canine dog food we feed her or the earlier more liquidy stuff . But no that wasn't it. She was chewing dead fallen leaves from Hariya sunning himself on the window sill -obviously a plant that I have lovingly named but whose pedigree I have no clue of. He lives in a giant tea cup and saucer that were a gift from Arti. I think she gave them to me because everytime I went to her place I said " I just love it. It's so cute." She had got it as a gift which she generously passed along to me. Arti is cute that way. She actually went all over Vienna looking for a deck of Tarot cards for me and finally got the lovely Osho deck.

Anshuman and I went to see the Roger Waters show. I looked at the picture on the heavily priced tickets and thought that the guy from Pink Floyd had really changed. In the car on the way to the show I got to know that the guy I was thinking of was David Gilmore- the lead singer. No wonder they didn't look alike. Roger Waters looks so much like Richard Gere it's not funny. Actually Gere will look like Waters when he grows really old. He already is pretty old.

I know only a few sngs of Pink Floyd. I think most people around us didn't know the lyrics including me so we just did the OOOOOAAA and let Waters sing the rest. Anshuman ofcourse knew quite a few songs but then he is Anshuman. He slept with Floyd and woke up with Dylan. ( Anshuman I mean this comment in the best manner possible. I love you)

I bought a glittering shiny ball on a string and swung it in a circle and when I got tired of it put it around my neck. It glitters like a bulb and to make it stop you squeeze it. It is now hanging as part of the interior decoration of Ninna's crate. She has no interest in it whatsoever. I think it looks cute and would like it if Ninna played with it at least once but she is just not bothered about my thoughts on this subject or any others for that matter.

Comfortably numb is the only song whose lyrics I know so I sang along lit up a lighter and waved it something I always wanted to do at a concert. I could never do it in Bombay because the assholes take away your lighter and cigarettes. Here the assholes took away my water bottle and packets of food. Anshuman got a bottle of water in his pocket anyway. He knows how I can't live without water.

I totally fell in love with the guitarist whose name I promised I wouldn't forget. Not surprisingly I have forgotten. I sent him a flying kiss across the lake of people and am sure that he got it and am convinced that he was playing just for me, just like everytime Waters sang " Vera" I swear my name changed in that second. All through this I had a red eye. My right eye had gone blood red.

I woke up in the afternoon the next day with my right eye crying like the guitarist from yesterday died an untimely death. I kept sniffing and collecting soggy tissues as Ninna loves tissues. She tears them up and leaves them lying around for me to pick up. It's a privilege I could live without.

Anshuman had to go to an awards function in the night so I wasn't looking forward to a night of sniffing on my own. I went to the doctor who sent me to the eye doctor who told me I had conjunctivitis. I asked her if my husband could get it from me ('Poor thing' I said) she laughed and said you're the first person worried about your husband, normally people worry about kids.

I asked her-" Is my Dog going to get it?" She didn't laugh this time. I think she thought I was just being an ass now. I really wanted to know. She didn't know anyway. She called me today to check on my progress for my file and I didn't recognise her. She reminded me I had come crying to her just the day before. How embarassed can you get?

I put drops in my eyes and settled on the sofa with tissues and Ninna. Anshuman got ready looking handsome in a new suit and red tie as I lay crying in one eye.

He asked me if I thought he would win. I didn't want to jinx the whle thing so I just assured him I would pray for him. I put a tika on his forehead with mock blood from a mock cut on my real thumb before he left and said- " Vijayi Bhava!" Jhappi pappi later he left.

He won a Gold and a Silver Gulf Marketing Review Awards. I was thrilled and even though it was late I called Anna and Papa( Anshuman's parents) and gave them the happy news.

I'm so proud. I only wish he would win again and this time he would give a speech which would mainly consist of how wonderful supportive, loving, gorgeous and more I am. And ofcourse I would be in the audience beaming proudly wih the camera capturing my most enigmatic smile. Seriously I'm really proud. Way to go!

Thursday, February 15, 2007

Puppy love


Ninna and the Romeo with the red scarf greet each other. This is the cutest picture ever. So we went to the Dog show in Dubai. It was great fun. Dgs of all shapes and sizes turned up with their owners. More photos later.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

White sofa



At Ananth's house
on the white sofa
smothering husband
wonderfully happy

Monday, February 05, 2007

painting and story

So I made a painting on canvas with acrylic colors. I just loved doing it. It turned out to be nothing like I had imagined it to be. Will post a foto soon.
Anshuman wrote an excellent story called 'The Black Label Man' Please read it on www.boybillionaire.blogspot.com

Sunday, January 28, 2007

Book

I lose myself in your pages
the weird worlds I slip into so easily
The last words I cannot help but read first
Sometimes I go through you greedily
over and over again

I love you my heart!
Even when you are hard
and my wrist hurts just holding you
close to my face

I flutter along with you
and I can smell the newness
the promise of a journey
and many places and people
some dead and some fictional

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Black dress


So this new year for some stupid reason I decided to wear a black dress, a tight off shoulder type thing from Marks and Spencer which unnecessarily cost a lot of money but for some reason when I saw myself in the trial room mirror by some magic I looked good to myself so I called Anshuman and asked-' Should I buy it?' He like always said,' Do you like it?' I said ' Yes' and that was the beginning of my pre new year.
I spent almost the entire day in the beauty parlour getting myself smoothened and shined and polished and buffed. Even got my hair done which is unusual for me. I came back home wearing at least thirty clips meant to hold the curls in place which incidentally is better than coming home with a head full of henna paste covered with a plastic bag. So I took off the clips and realised the small curls were a mistake. So I uncurled them which left my head in a mass of unruly big curls which was a slightly lesser mistake.
Then comes the act of make up. My foundation is as old as my marriage. The reason I haven't bought a new one is that everytime the sales woman suggests a shade it is always darker than the one I have. I am in denial about the fact that by some strange magic called time I have become darker. So I managed to take out enough foundation out of the bottle with the help of the wooden end of a paint brush. Then the blush then dark eyeshadow then light shiny eyeshadow then I looked everywhere for the eyeliner, I looked everywhere for the eyeliner and I couldn't find it. Finally I wore the dress and stood in front of Anshuman and asked,'How do I look? Do I look fat?'
He said,' You're not thin but you're not fat.'
That was good enough for me. ' And the make up? Too much? '
He said the foundation was a bit much. So I took off the dress, washed my make up. Stuck the paint brush in the bottle, did the blush, did the eye shadow and looked again for the eyeliner without any success. Finally I got approval so I wore my glasses, put on a shawl and we set off towards the New years' eve.
I soon realised that the dress was ripping from the side. I caught a reflection of myself in a mirror and later in the pictures one of which is above and realised the whole exercise was a mistake. It was too late by then so off we went to Wafi City for a party where the DJ had found the most unheard of songs with the exception of Summer of 69. I admire him for that as it must have taken him listening to obscure songs for a long time to come up with that song list. In any case everyone decided to leave and we landed up at Ananth's place. Everyone began grooving to hindi numbers when the neighbourhood cop ( he literally is a neighbour of Ananth) came up and said we couldn't play loud music so off went the music...the evening pretty much ended with Rajiv singing a couple of songs.
I came home and got out of the ripped dress and breathed a sigh of relief as I finished washing my face. I felt like myself again in my old nightdress. I fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning feeling absolutely comfortable.

Monday, January 01, 2007

Here we are

and so it is
just like you said it would be
life goes easy on me
most of the time...

( excerpt from Blower's daughter by Damien Rice)

That describes the year gone by beautifully. A few days ago I got an email message from myself. It's some website that does this for a living. Point is that I had written ' You will have a healthy and peaceful life. ' It's like that message came flying back to me from the past and burst forth in a crackle and glitter of fireworks!

So this first day of the year and I am in a thankful mood so I will thank everyone on my list and wish them a wonderful, healthy, joyous and soulful 2007. I like the number 7...I realised it recently when I read my poems and found that I repeatedly used it.

First of all God, I found my faith last year when I prayed to Sai Baba- PLEEEEASE send me a doggy. And he did. He's there alright.

My maid Mary for making my bed every alternate day for the past few months. I didn't know maids actually did that. And for being hilarious about drinking beer on Christmas and throwing up then telling me about it and then telling me to drink beer too.

My friends Ananth and Arti for being excellent hosts. I love the hilarious Himesh Reshammiya impersonation he did on my birthday, and Arti for her boundless energy and sense of humour.

CK for being utterly funny when drunk, equally funny when not drunk, terrible flirt at all times and probably one of the most generous people I know. Bindu his wife for being the best at giving hugs and making delicious food. Noni for being a sweetheart of a little girl and dancing like Aishwarya on the beach to everyone's delight.

Swasti for being the only person from NID who continues to write to me even when I forget to reply. Everytime I told her about my goof ups she smiled like a light bulb and said " IT HAPPENS YAAR!!!" and went on to site a few examples.

Cybill for being short fair and handsome and silly and horribly talented and always available on MSN. An absolute sweetheart.

Rahul Guha for his excellent advice and unavailability on phone and email and chat.

Shilpa for becoming one of my closest friends in a short time and giving me a beautiful tiny winged gaurdian angel and sending me regular forwarded mail to do TP.

Bharti for knowing the meaning and nuances and inside and outside of rationality and passing on some of it to me.

Arun for telling me never to stop writing and just do it.( I wish I listened to him)

Mukul for being the best brother and blogger I know.

Anna and Papa for being my loving parents for the last 6 years.

Mini my little sister for being awake and taking my late night calls.

My parents for everything.

Anshuman for being a sweetheart, cooking prawns and fish, being loving in general, getting Doggie, dancing in the living room to his own tune, being loving in general, being generous, taking doggie for walk, being loving in general, reassuring me that I am neither thin nor fat, commenting on excess foundation on my face, being loving in general, dancing with me and singing Annie's song loudly in my ear when drunk, taking one thousand pictures of me with doggy, being loving...

Checkers aka Ninna aka Ninka for being the most beautiful, loving, indisciplined doggy and making my life sooooooooooooooo much better.

I love all of the above with the exception of Mary the maid and wish them and all those who read this a wonderful, happy new year!!