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!’