Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Transition.

I'm transitioning into  another new normal. This will take time. The new normal is how I define phases of my life that abruptly become a way of living. I have gone through at least three before.  This one's a little tricky,  because I'm conscious of this happening, now. I want to take control of it, resist it, hope and plead it to please go away. It won't though. I have no choice but to be friends with Pain, she doesn't give me any false hope. 

 We stay up at night and sing to each other: 

"Don't you think we ought to know by now ?.. Don't you think we should have learned somehow ?.." 


Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Let Me Be Pieces

It's December... my God it's December. 

And I cannot stop feeling sad: More like Doomsember. 

It started this Sunday. My mother thought it was PMS. It wasn't. I was hoping it would be PMS too, actually, I wish I could explain this away with something as simple as that. 

But I can't. I've been dreaming. And waking up. And crying. 

I believe there are two kinds of crying: the good cry, the one that makes you feel all better and you even venture to laugh at yourself by the end of it. And the bad cry... the kind that leaves you so empty after you're done that you want to cry some  more so you can make sure it's all out of your system. It's the cry that you want to turn into a good cry. But it creeps up on you, gives you a headache, and leaves a dull ache on  your chest. It threatens to come out any time of the day...Every time I have a conversation with a normal person without letting the tears come out is a miracle. 

The bad cry has become a routine this week, I'm sorry to report. Mornings, evenings, on the way to work, on the way back from work.. I look up at the darkening sky and the half baked moon and plead it to take me to it... "Make me fly." I whisper. Nothing happens. I don't know if I'm going to get through this. It looks bleak. 

It's amazing how much pain I can feel without breaking into the pieces that I know I'm already in. I'm already in pieces and my body won't let me be pieces. That's the real problem. Let me be pieces, God. Let me float away.

I can't bear the pressure of looking whole anymore. 

Thursday, November 28, 2013

This Is Calming.

We found out mummy's got dengue, yesterday. I was so worried, that by the time it was time to go to bed,I had a splitting headache.

Here are some  facts about dengue, you (probably) didn't know. (Obviously I have a lot of time in my hands, to be doing this). Actually, this is keeping me sane, so stop judging.
And maybe get me some one whose going to stay up all night to make my mother drink water. I suck at being nocturnal.

FACTS ABOUT DENGUE YOU (Probably)DIDN'T KNOW
 Manifestations
What actually happens
When your mother insists on using a mosquito net, “because dengue and malaria are just waiting to happen in this house”
You probably shouldn't treat that as a joke
And obviously your mother now has Dengue, to prove a point. I’m sorry mom. But please just get better.
Dengue is not contagious.
Because that is the first thing your aunt asks you.
However, if there’s a person to mosquito to person pathway, then it is. In other words,  mosquitoes like threesomes.
It’s caused by family of viruses.
So it’s still okay to report to the patients that their doctor has “viral fever”.
Because my mother thinks nobody would want to come to her with their kid, after they find out she had dengue. Can I gun down society, yet?
Dengue mosquitoes only bite you in the day time.
You should have heard the speculations we came up with before we knew she had dengue. We blamed soya sauce and sausages.It was odd. 
These mosquitoes are total bitches…and very active vampires…except they are active during the day, which makes them scarier.
It’s also known as Dandy Fever.
Seriously? Dandy?
For something this vicious I wasn't expecting Dandy.
Dengue doesn't have any antibiotic/ vaccination/cure available yet.
Obviously, that would make life easier for all of us wouldn't it?
Every one insists her fluid intake should be monitored with strictness matched by a Victorian Headmistress…so it’s become a form of greeting for me every time I see mom awake..”How about that ORS?” 
Someone reported my mother has dengue to the Municipal Corporation. We're guessing it was the lab that did the blood test. 
People came at our neighbourhood with vanfogs...they're just code for terminator guns. The whole place got scary cloudy. And now everyone knows my mom has dengue. Society literally got gunned down. I have pictures (which might be uploaded later, when I feel like less of a sadist). 
When the fever gets over, that’s when the real trouble starts.
My mom hasn't had fever since last night.
I don’t know what to feel.

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

The Sickness Diaries

Mom's illness continues.The boss has given me permission to work from home, till mummy gets better.I admit I feel a little stranded and helpless. 

Naturally,  I have pictures: 

This is my mother's phone, every half an hour. 
You know what freaks me out more than the 19 missed calls? The 2 new messages.  Because I can't help but believe that some of those 19 missed callers are sending abusive texts that I will now have to read. 

Meds Galore: This is what my work desk looks like, right now. I'm obviously very good at this working-from-home stuff. 
Sweet Lime seems to be the only thing my mother likes to have right now, that and Gondhoraj Lemon. The fiery red you see in the right, is sun burnt mango with chilli seasoning. 

But that's for me. It's really quite yum if you like all things tangy. I bought it off the crowded footpaths of Gariahat. Gariahat is a market place of contrasts, where you'll find everything juxtaposed against everything else in the least organised way..it's kind of how my mind works. 
This was the last thing I bought before my mother went into her fever spell..so I've begun to associate the taste of this  fiery concoction with her sickness. 


This is my den...the closest I've ever come to having "my own  room"..although it has very poor wifi connection,  you'll find me here when the house begins to feel particularly crowded, or life gets too overwhelming. 

I've been spending my time here this morning, while the mother naps between fever spells. 

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

This Post Has Many Typos But I Felt The Need To Ramble.

My mom has been very ill for the last two days, this happened right after I read a chapter on "Vulnerability armory" in Brene Brown's book: Daring Greatly. So I felt like I was being tested: am I going to numb out, and go to work despite my mother being very ill? Or do I believe that my reasons are valid enough, and  send in a an urgent leave mail for my boss explaining to her why I can't make it to work yet, despite being on leave for the better part of last week. For once, I took the latter way. 

I won't lie, I felt guilty as hell, and so very afraid of being judged by my boss, and worse still: what if she thinks I'm playing hooky?

But despite my reservations, I'm glad I stayed. 

There's something very amazing in watching a person suffering from fever. (That didn't come out right, I'm beginning to sound like a sadist. I meant oddly amazing, I guess). When they are in the throes of it, they believe nothing can ever make this better.. or go away. Until the fever starts to go away, the active energy  they experience right after,  is kind of beautiful. My mother went as far as to want to go and treat her patients, that very instant. I'm glad I can differentiate delirium talk from normal talk. Obviously I didn't let her do that. 

I don't mind staying at home at all. And I like to read so staying at home is kind of what I do for enjoyment. 
Except this was a little different, because people started pouring in one after the other. 

I am not good with people. Especially when they want to make themselves busy and make this drink or do that dish, that is "going to make her well, just now!" But good manners obviously dictates that I do everything that they would like to do for my mother for them, become their dutiful advise seeker and carry it through while they sit and watch. 

Did I mention that my mother's phone rings all the time? Like seriously...All.The.Time. And it's got that annoying normal phone tone that is supposed to sound professional. But if it keeps on ringing it begins to sound like your stupid alarm tone that insists that you wake up every morning. 

I was beginning to lose it. 

I reminded myself  that this was the vulnerability test. 

But you know you're doing really bad when you start to ignore the people around and sink in to the comforting environment of your laptop. That's when you know that the process of "numbing" has begun to kick in..

So I did the only thing I could: I went out on the pretext of "grocery shopping". I found nothing, other than  the illusive Toblerone. Toblerone is a ginger tabby who loves dirt and rolls over and lets me rub his belly whenever he sees me. That makes him my best friend..obviously. 

This made me feel a whole lot better. 

And then I felt really sad for mom, because she is the one whose having to deal with all that attention despite her fever. I would probably want to stab people, if I were in her place. 


*****

I went to work today and I was so thankful to be around non advise giving people that I may have given out post it note awards to all my colleagues. 

It was silly. But this is what I do when you give me the gift of quiet. 

Mom's feeling slightly better, she's been able to have proper food without vomiting all of it out. 

We'll get through this. She and me, as always. 

Did I mention my boss totally asked after my mother? She actually wanted to know what was wrong. 

I'm kind of glad I stayed back yesterday, and read Treasure Island,( I do that, I read absolute classics when I need to calm myself down.Also watch adventure movies while I chow down some flavored yogurt. )I know these are all numbing tactics but I indulge in these, because I always end up a little happier at the end. I'm sure all of us have our own pet indulgences. 


*****

Today a colleague told me with a dead pan serious expression: "seriously how many cans of Red Bulls do you take every morning before coming to work?" 

I was very surprised... and then she continued : "I need to borrow from your energy reserve."

I had no idea, this was the general opinion about me. 

So I got a little worried because what if that on-line test about mental illness is right? What if I do in fact have a bipolar disorder? Because I face terrible lows and I had no idea that I look like I'm on an energy high!

Or maybe that's just a part of being human?

I don't know, I'm a little lost. 

Sometimes I wish I had the "Site Under Construction" board at my disposal. Because I feel like that most of the times. Particularly when people get all curious about my future. 

Then all I want to do, is hide behind that board. That would explain a lot of things. Because every time I've felt like I've gotten anywhere close to building the ground floor, I have reconsidered  and demolished it all with my bare hands. 

I wonder if I suffer from the perfectionist syndrome. Yes, that's a syndrome. 

Perfectionism is not normal, author Brene Brown says. Is it weird that my mother has taught me to strive for perfection all my life? What does that make us as a family? Are we going to have a syndrome named after us? 

These are kind of the things that keep me up at night. That and that one time I aided the banishment of a kid from a book store. 

Yeah, that's me...I mean it started off great! I saw this kid browsing a book and I saw what looked like fake popcorn falling out of a book jacket. And I'm thinking wow this is so full of whimsy...this book comes with fake popcorn...great idea! I actually said that out loud, and before I know it this gruff man starts scolding the kid for littering the bookstore, because that was real popcorn that was falling out of a very flattened popcorn box that I thought was the book jacket. 

I felt so guilty that I couldn't bring myself to buy anything from that shop so I went to the other one in the same mall. And I bumped into another kid, a little girl this time. She started following me around. And snatched this Agatha Christie book I was browsing as soon as I put it down. 

I looked at her going through the pages and thought this was really beautiful...until she looked up at me and neatly tore the first page from the book, and then sneakily put it back and walked away to join her mother.

I was speechless. The whole time she had this defiant look about her face.

She's like : "Yeah, I dare you to get me kicked out of this shop.Some awesome karma you'd be raking in." 

It's like these kids have their imaginary walkie talkie networks all over the place. 

Dumb girl in black, thinks a book can have fake popcorn in it..get her down. And then the kid army is all upon me, daring me to defy them one more time. 

I give up!

This has to be the longest post I've ever written...I have no idea why I've rambled on for so long. 

Ah well, I guess I have missed blogging. 


Friday, October 11, 2013

This is Like Hangover, Except No Booze and Tonnes of Bad Music.

We decided to dare the crowds and go out at 11 pm on Panchami. 

I didn't think it would be a big deal, because I can't sleep most nights anyway...This promised to be an all nighter (we wanted to finish all the famous pandals on this day, so we could avoid the mad rush of the 4 days that Pujo brings! 

We couldn't have been more wrong... 

The roads were clear but you know what the problem was? The cars were not allowed anywhere near the vicinity of the pandals...so we had to join the crowds walking it up to the pandals...and my God was it crowded! 

But it was beautiful to see Kolkata lit up like that.. 

I was so sleepy by the time we got to the sixth pandal... but it was such a riot of colors that I woke up a little bit.



Most of these Pandals have their own themes, which we always have a hard time figuring out. 

I am particularly not an expert in Durga Pujo knowhow... I just found out that every year Durga comes Home in different modes of transportation and each is supposed to signify something...

For example, this year She's coming in a palanquin, which is not so great cause it signifies pestilence? And she's leaving on an elephant which is awesome cause it stands for bumper crops and all.. 

But then I heard this conversation in the pandal above and I felt like I wasn't alone in being ignorant about Durga Pujo trivia. 

Guy 1: what are those? 

Guy 2: oh they are sun fairies inviting the Goddess to their humble abode... 

Guy 1: I think they confused sun fairies to what Natasha Henstridge turned into in Species... 

Guy 1: Oh dear God! You are right...

Guy 2: or is this done purposely? like is this an alien theme that we're not catching on to? 

*****

Seriously, figuring out themes is hard... 




And then you're like Fuck it...lets just enjoy the opulence. 

By the time we got to this one, it was our 8th pandal and probably 3 am in the Shashthi morning and all I wanted to do was sleep... But my cousin was wide awake! active.. sipping on her coke and singing this song which ... I don't know..why people even call it a song? 


She didn't know any of the other lyrics other than the  "party all night" part so that's all that she sang, it's stuck in my head and it won't fucking go away, thanks a lot Cuz! 

On our way to another pandal, these trucks started coming in with a shit load of coconut, you know the ones you have to drink the cocnut water?

Mom: OMG stop the car I need coconuts...they're selling it in bulk here...this is a good deal..stop the damn car! 

So yeah we stopped. Bought coconuts of all damn things at 3:30 am in the morning..and our driver tells my mom: 

What about sugar cane? They're selling sugar cane in bulk too... 

At that point I may have laughed like a maniac...which finally got my mother's attention. 

She promised that the next pandal would be the last one...and this is what I found right outside this pandal:

Spotted at 4 am in the morning.
Oh they were sooo cute...I wanted to steal a puppy but that would be a super lame thing to do on a festival... 

My mother decided that there was just one more pandal that we really needed to visit..so I did the only thing a sane person would do: I sat it out in the car, while they ticked on their precious checklist of pandals. 

Driver: Oh you must be getting bored, wait I'll put on some music for you. 

Music: Party all night..Party all night..Party all night.. 

Me: Really? Really? I need to kick something. 

We finally got back home at 5:30 am and I slept...pretending I had those puppies cuddling me... 

This was like Hangover, except no  booze and tonnes of  bad music! I'm so glad I'm staying home for the rest of the four days... yayy to no pants! 

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Ramp Walking In A Crowded Bus, And Other Sad Metaphors Of Life.

Okay, I don't know how to "Call-in" on a conference call on Skype. 

And I can't stop crying...

Well that escalated quickly.... @Emma Billing ahahahaha!


It's turning out to be a nail biting  week and by the time it's done with me it's going to flaunt its  shiny immaculate bear claws at me, and I have nothing to show for it other than my  bleeding ugly cuticles...

This reminds me of that time I was waiting impatiently in an auto rickshaw  for a traffic snarl to clear up, and it was funny cause the stop where I'd get off  was just a little bit further away...so I got all impatient, got off the auto,  till I realised what was causing the snarl in the first place. 

There was this careless car driver  who had parked and gone off somewhere. His car was obstructing the path of a  bus.Moreover,  it was stranded:  because there was this huge ass sandhill as well (yes sandhills are a common sight on the roads thanks to all the contruction work that keeps happening). Yup, bus wedged between car and sandhill: shit you can write about because you live in Kolkata, India. 

So I had little choice but to use the bus as a static passage.  I got on it and then got off it & continued walking, despite the heated stares I received from the waiting passengers: "look at you gliding along like you own this bus." I was very nonchalant about it, and pretended that  this kind of shit happens every day. 

                                                                *~*~*~

My life feels like it's caught in a static bus passage way and I'm waiting for the bus to finally start moving or to just get off it, so I can come back home...you know? 

It's taking too long a  time, though. 

And although I'm trying to be nonchalant about being caught in this weird place at a weird time, it's catching up.. 

bus


Maybe they should put on some music while we wait... or something. 

Updated: Turns out? all I had to do to get in on that call? Was to use my mobile phone to dial the fucking numbers and not go via Skype at all...

~sigh~ 

Can I die yet? 

Please? 



Friday, September 13, 2013

I'm Drunk.In The Best Possible Way.

In one of those really frustrating moments when I couldn't open the  gate to my Dida's  house, I realized that the two way latch was actually locked on my side of the gate instead of the other side. I really didn't have to slide my hand treacherously through the grills to get the gate open. I just had to slide the latch and open.the.damn.gate. 

Then there was the issue of how my grandmother's attendant was flabbergasted with the whole concept of huggies, for old women. She struggled so hard to take them off my grandmother, that she finally had to use a knife to cut the thing off. Seriously, a knife. It is absolutely no different from the Mamy Poko Pants a kid has to wear. It's like taking a sticker off or whatever. You get my point right? The knife was so superfluous that I couldn't help but laugh, despite the obvious discomfort it must have caused Dida. 

I cannot help but wonder if we often make the same mistake with life. We cannot look at it simply. 

We approach it with a knife, or try to look at it in a round about way when all we have to do is to live it. Just live it. 

My work, has made me come in touch with people who challenge what their bodies are capable of every.single.day. The surprising result that I have seen, is that our bodies are manufactured to live, they have a  tremendous tendency to survive despite all fucking odds that are lined up against it. 

The funny thing? each of us have bodies. Each of us have this tremendous machine, if you must, to live. All we have to do is to switch the power on (breathe) and do. 

Today is just one of those days that I am just...in awe of  how much living our bodies are packed with, like you know those super expensive Reebok boots that have a lot of wear in them, but we don't have to buy our bodies, we are gifted with them right from the very beginning...and I remember how as kids,  we used to play games and exhaust ourselves to the point that we'd fall asleep, that was us doing what we're meant to do even now, living out the life our bodies were gifted with, we played then because we could not do any work that had outcome, at the point, but we were always so ready to "do" . 

Somewhere, in this maze of growing up and becoming an adult, we forget that things can be simple, that maybe life is meant to be lived with the vigorous zest of a  child determined to exhaust oneself to the point of sleep (death). 

I am willing now, although this very thought is what my mind has been wired to fear. My mind fears a lot of things. 

But it's nice, to be a witness, and understand this, simply. I have my boss to thank for that.No,  she didn't sit down and tell me these things. She lives it. Every day. 

She is one of those very few inspiring ladies I have met in my life. 

The others being: 
My mom
My English Teacher
Jenny Lawson 

All of them have given me this, as a general message: 

It's not c'est la vie ~sigh~

but a hearty: C'EST LA VIE ! MOTHERFUCKER! 




Monday, September 2, 2013

Why You'll Never Catch Me Dry Humping The Floor.

I keep going back to this camp. But I learnt so much there, so yeah.

Bear with me. 

Back there, we had to do push ups whenever we were late for a meeting/task. Since this camp was about team work, even if one person messed up  the others had to pay. 

And there was one girl, who couldn't do push ups to save her life...so she'd just end up dry humping the floor. 

Naughty Kitten!!! ;)
Initial reaction from everyone else. We were very very confused. 

All of us tried to tell her she was doing it wrong...but I don't know...she just kept on doing suggestive wave motions on the floor, with her whole body. And since she wouldn't listen to us, we would start giggling our butts off...because well... the.girl.was.dry.humping.the.floor. 

And then one guy, who couldn't bear to look anymore, got up and showed her how she could do a girl push up: 

8 Types Of Push ups For Women And Their Benefits


And she says: " Oh! This is so much easier than what I was doing." 

And we girls gave a collective, " yeah, you bet!" 
                                                       

 *****

It strikes me, that she probably didn't even realize that her innocent exercise was coming across very wrong to the remaining nineteen of us. 

It's all about perspective. 

Every time I feel like I'm in the wrong place, because I seem to be messing everything up, or people are staring at me funny(which happens a lot) : I remember this. 

I tell myself, stop doing what you're doing. You're probably dry humping the floor right now. Metaphorically. Which is even worse.  

You  just need someone to come up and show you how the right kind of push ups are done...

And when nobody does, I need to seek and ask for help. 

I try not to feel too inadequate asking for help...but I've seen most of the times, people are just too oblivious of their surroundings to realize that the person right next to them, could do with an  extra push.

We mistake this obliviousness for omg-everyone's-got-their-shit-together-what's-wrong-with-me-ness

When you look at this person all focused and giving it a go at her desktop, she's probably just worried about her boyfriend in her head you know? And she's just typing that loud so she can drown away her fears with her work. 


I have always been surprised at how much they want to help you, when you tell them that you're floundering. 

So yeah, scream, shout, cry for help when you have to. 

Maybe  that would bring better results  for whichever number of parties, concerned. 

And I try to do the same thing, for anybody else who is clearly on their way to ridiculing themselves. I have tried to be more alert to the feelings of others around me. 

 I try not to feel superior about it. Because hey.. this is part of being  human. We're all here to learn. 

Friday, August 30, 2013

Justin Bartha Is Very Convincing As A Researcher. Related: I Have A Problem.

I have had to do Skype calls with Justin Bartha for two consecutive days, you guys!!

And if  you're  asking yourself  who  the fuck is Justin Bartha, then I think you'd totally get it if I shared a picture with you: 


Justin Bartha

And if you still don't get it, then watch The Hangover maybe? (Although, I personally adore his role in The Rebound)

Justin Bartha is not revealing his identity though. He is pretending to be this research person that I'm supposed to co-ordinate with and get a tonne  data for. 

And get this? I was supposed to be on a call with him this afternoon, which was more  early morning, his time. And he couldn't be there. Because he had a shoot to attend maybe? Or do his famous girlfriend? Or some other crazy shit that celebrities are upto these days? 

Or maybe he just had a hangover. Hah!

Not falling for the I-forgot-the-time-of-call excuse,  Justin Bartha! 

PS. I can't help finding celebrity parallels to random people from Europe that I sometimes have to work with. It's like an ailment. I went to Europe this summer, and I swear I spotted celebrities everywhere.

 Not sure what that says about me. 

God help me if I ever go to America. 

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

10 Reasons Why I Can't Take Myself Seriously. And Why You Should Avoid Me. Wow. Now I Know Why Nobody Replies To My Messages.


I read  this postrecently from a blog called The Globe Slother

I noticed how quickly it gained likes, shares and tweets everywhere.

This made me ponder if being a good blogger was all about putting what’s in your head succinctly in a point-wise format.As much as I'd like to talk about what being a Bong entails, I relish not getting hate mails so, I will stick to me or people I know when it comes to making lists. 

 This post is me, trying to be a good blogger, and presenting –10 reasons why I freak myself out a little.

1)     Whenever I see a lyric video on YouTube, I have to sing along. It doesn’t matter if I’ve never even heard the song before. It’s an unspoken rule. Sometimes I end up sounding like a wolf in a full moon’s night, and end up thinking of possible werewolf names for myself.

2)    Swollen tonsils scare me so much that when my mother asked me to check if she had them, all I could think of..was.what I’d seen...and hating my life a little. Then, I just prayed and thanked God that I am not a doctor.It's very gross. You don't want to see swollen tonsils. I love my mother. But I hate that she made me do this. 

3)    Also I think I’m turning into this really fat blob, because I tore my dress twice while trying to sit on the floor. Why was I trying to sit on the floor? Because I like the feel of cold, hard floor, beneath me. Stop laughing.Or maybe just to pray to God that I'm not a doctor you know? Whose laughing now?

4)    Everybody in my neighbourhood thinks I am this really good girl. I feel sorry for them because they have no idea what is going on in my head most of the time. This kid was running determinedly to some place like...his life depended on it and I had to really control the urge to shout "Bhaag Milkha Bhaag" at him.And then laugh in my head, at how much that would freak him out. OMG I'm evil. Save me.

5)    Writing is disorienting for me, in that, when I stop writing I feel like my whole world has started spinning, literally, and then I realise I was twirling in my twirly chair the whole time, while writing . Those chairs should be banned from  the office. But it was quite a head rush, if you ask me. (warning: don't try this at home. Try this at office, when you're bored as hell). 

6)   You should  probably not collide with me, at night, after I’ve watched Paranormal Activity...because there will be chances that even if Paranormal Activity didn’t scare you the noises escaping my throat will.

7)    I am very.very.scared of meeting people. I have these unreasonable fears that my dress is going to pop open, or I will say something super silly, or bore the person to death. And then I have a dead body to take care of... OMG daunting stuff. How do people do this? All I want to do is stay at home and work from my computer..is that too much to ask for?Related: I have a problem.

8)  Gmail does this insanely weird thing where, if you log out of one account and log into another (yes I have two) I am still on-line from the other account. Seeing yourself on-line is creepy. There's this whole parallel universe thing that comes into play.

 9) I can't pour water into a glass, without spilling it. I swear. It's like reflex. Something tells me if I had to play the role of a drunk girl in a movie I'd be very good at it. 

10) I start reading self help books and really go all the way to imbibe what they're trying to say( like attending a course). And then I never finish it. Because every time I don't do what they're asking me to do, I feel guilty and I feel like I'm betraying the author so I don't touch the book after that. I have failed many courses like these... and it's always a sore point, in my head. I don't know why I set myself up for disappointment like this, I can't pour water straight into a glass, everything else should be a logical explanation, a follow up of the water point. You know? Like oooo I have trust issues. But I really can't pour water into a jar without spilling it...so trust issues should follow. Wow...am I making metaphorical sense now? 

That last point is too long and rambly. Just ignore it. 

Wow this was hard. Not because I had to write them down, but because I can't believe myself sometimes. I blame the planet Earth. Because it's a watery planet.

 Sheesh. I'm fucked. 

Saturday, August 24, 2013

You Know You Are Probably Being Robbed, When You're Feeling Cold. For More Details: Consult My Family.

A few days ago, my mother updated her bank passbook and couldn't account for Rs 613.50 that was spent. She got very alarmed. I was with her the whole time, and I'm usually thinking about my imaginary kitten to really notice, that my mother is working herself up over this. 

And then she turns to me and asks me if I've used her card to pay for some of these exams I have to sit for, and I promptly say no. 

Except I did. 

It takes one hour for me to remember this, however. 

By that time, my mother is almost considering going to the Police station, because she believes in over achieving protocols. 

So I tell her meekly, that I am, in fact,  the imaginary thief she's losing her mind over. 

My mother is totally outraged by how forgetful I am and recounts the situation angrily to my cousin brother and his mom (my aunt), later. 


Grumpy cat lemonade Meme | Slapcaption.com
My mother is the original Grumpy Cat, this is something she would really say...and say it hard(replace sugar and water by "common sense" and "mental alertness" ! 

And my brother chirps in: But why would a robber hack into your bank account and only withdraw Rs 613.50 and not Rs600,000? Seriously why would anyone give a shit about fifty paise? 

Mom: But that is not the point!

Bro: But it is worth thinking about,isn't it? Like the last time you woke us all up in the middle of the night on our holiday in Puri because you thought that there were robbers in our cottage!

Mom: I did? 

Bro: yeah, and to validate your statement you sited that the air conditioner temperature was lower than it was when we went to bed. I lowered the temperature. But that's not the point...the point is, why would a thief tip toe into the room and instead of robbing us blind, lower the ac temperature and  leave

Aunt: Maybe he was just trying to make it colder so our bodies would decompose slowly and he would have enough time to get away with his loot, after he's slit our throats. Ever thought of that genius? 

Bro: Except your throat was fine, because that's what woke us up. You were screaming cause Bomsy (that's what he calls my mom) freaked you out and your foldable bed snapped back and you were just lying there stuck in an awkward bed sandwich, till we came and got you. 

Then he turns to my mother and adds, " see? nothing good can come of this".

By that time, both my mother and my aunt are too embarrassed to really say anything.

And I'm trying hard to keep a straight face, because all of the sights of that fatal night in Puri are making funny faces at me, and daring me to laugh. 


This is what family's for...right? To dissipate blame by bringing up more embarrassing stories from the grave? 

Also, notice how seamlessly my cousin brother defended me, without making it too obvious. 

That's good team work. 

Hi 5 Bro. Hi 5. 

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

I'm Done With Being Methodical. Unleashing Chaos. No More Parts!

Just three more days before I head back home. We’ve been given an “assignment” which we can work on from home. Till now, we have slept, ate and watched a shit load of TV :so it’s going well.



 Most of us are down with the flu and by most of us I mean everyone else except me and one other guy. My mother doesn’t believe it for a second. She is sure I’ll fall sick as soon as I land home. She could be right.

Our room smells of stale milk and my room-mate and I have narrowed it down to the cushions being the source of this smell. We don’t like to ponder over the how s and the why s. 

I woke up and went to the loo, I forgot to lock the door.  Then someone barged in. Except it wasn’t  anyone. The door was open. And no one was there.  It might have been the wind. I’ll never know. This is why you should always carry your paranormal activity laser with you, to the loo.

It could have also been Gepecko, the sparrow that never flew away, and therefore likes to haunt unsuspecting girls in their vulnerable moments. 

Our Apartment Owners have some serious quirks I tell you. 
So we’re having breakfast and my room-mate(N) says:
D I think I’m losing my mind a little bit.This is what they must call fever talk. 
Me: what do you mean?            
N: Does that look like a pool to you?
Me: which one?
She shows me this:




 D: OMG that is totally a pool
 

 N: That can’t be the much talked about wave pool though can it? I mean it’s not blue, it’s fucking dirty and it's green.
D: Maybe it’s a green pool.
N: Sure, cause there isn’t enough green around already.


Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Part 5: Please Laugh, I dare you.


Being a cheapskate in Mumbai might get you murdered/killed.

Yeah. Ask me. I would know.

Taking an auto that leaves you at your doorstep, from office, would be sheer stupidity, not when you have buses plying. Right?

I was just happy to hear the word “Direct bus” amidst all that Marathi and I followed my friends blindly.
It wasn’t a direct bus. It takes you to the entrance to the forest that we live in, and then let’s you go. It wouldn’t be fun otherwise would it?

So, the place where the bus leaves us off is superbly busy with the traffic and everything. It scares you because you keep getting this uncanny feeling that all this traffic is the number of cars running away from the hilly wilderness we live in, or maybe it is just the darkness that gets you.

We get down from the bus, trying to make our way through to the green-ness when a bus comes rearing at us from nowhere. It almost wasn’t stopping at all, till I shrieked out loud enough to freak my friends out. The bus stopped inches away from our faces.  

I don’t like to think about this. But I needed to put this in writing. Because it was.so.fucking.close.

Then we make our way to the other side. It’s still a long way to go. We have to wait for another bus, or at least an auto. But it didn’t come. We waited for ages till we decided we’d just walk it. It would take us an hour if we did. One of us suddenly has this bright idea of getting in a car. Even now, she insists it was a cab. But cabs in Mumbai don’t have clear visible signs on them. So maybe she was right, maybe she wasn’t. I don’t even know anymore. That ride freaked the living daylights out of me. And all I could think of was  if I have to jump out of this moving car, how badly would I get hurt.

After 30 long minutes, we  came back home, related this story to my friends. We had to submit a synopsis of a creative idea the very next day. And my friends are like “hey you already have a story. Except yours is more likeBedtime Stories. It came true.”

We saved 20 bucks from all of this. 20 bucks for some mind-numbing stress. 

Was it worth it? Hell no. 

It’s just nice to laugh this off.


It really is. 

Finding My Personal Tardis

Shit that I never thought I’d put together in a sentence:
Cold kebabs actually taste good.

This house comes with two single barrel shot guns.

Sometimes remembering something as mundane “I put blue nail polish sitting on that chair last night” can solve stupid puzzles like “where the fuck did we keep our flat keys and why is it that we can’t find it right when we are in a desperate need to leave immediately (we were getting late for work)?” It was on the damn chair.

My mom has been pestering me about a certain cat and I think I’m going to get exactly that for myself after I get my first salary. Something tells me that she won’t be happy with my interpretation of the word though.

Sickness scares me to death. My room-mate fell terribly ill over the week-end. I made soup for her, called the doctor, got her medicine. But the whole time I felt like I wasn’t doing enough. I just cannot sit and watch people suffer. It is a trigger.

I have been told on two occasions: “don’t worry I can kill people if it comes to it” Two fucking times. Either I worry too much, or I have this inane capacity to get myself in a lot of trouble.Also, I could never say I can kill people without snorting at myself. I can't.fucking.kill.people.even.if.it.is.to.protect.me. 

I might have been stalked. Or I might have pretended like I’m being stalked. Either of the two. 



Yes, I let myself like them because: See, heaven's got a plan for you. 

Let go. Let things happen. 

Peace. 

Sunday, July 28, 2013

Part 4: Winds Push Me Away.


I’m almost done with yet another week here, in Mumbai. There are so many people I have got to know, in this short span. Some of them have become friends that I’d love to keep in touch with, others belong to that group of species that intrigue you so much that you want to stare or converse with them the whole day, just to map their source of thoughts. It is hard  not to lose yourself a little bit. Sometimes you are thankful that you did. Other times you wish you’d just listened to your inner voice.

However, there are always things you just stumble upon:

I realised that I like quiet. I have a really fun room mate. She keeps suggesting fun activities, or fun movies we should watch on the telly. I go along almost always. And then I’m  just craving to go back to my room, sit with my laptop, or just read a book.

My definition of fun is very different from most people’s. I am probably the kind of person that would bore you to death in a loud music environment, because I think it is pointless trying to make meaningful conversation with anyone when you have to raise your voice beyond a certain pitch.

I am seriously unintentionally funny. I know my twitter handle says that about me. But it was a guess. Now I know for sure. Because I have been told so. By numerous people.In those exact same words.

I take a while to respond positively to a request for a  favour. Even if it is a small one. Funny thing though, I find it exceptionally hard to say no to one.

I seriously cannot write a blog post without being interrupted many times here.

A one particular room-mate of mine, S, has surpassed the very definition of selfishness. And  it is my life’s aim to never behave like her.

This place has very strong winds. Like OMG it’s a setting for a scary movie kind of strong winds.This one time I was staring out of a window, and I see these trees looking all eerie and just lying there, knocked down by the winds. And I can't help but feel sad for them....bare trees with their branches outspread lying there on the concrete waiting for the rain to come and wash them away...

Oya -- Yoruba/Santeria.        She is seen in aspects as the warrior-spirit of the wind, lightning, fertility, fire, and magic. She creates hurricanes and tornadoes, and guards the underworld.  Beyond destruction, Oya is the spirit of change, transition, and the chaos that often brings it about.

Did I tell you this place we live in is haunted? Because it seriously is. But it is beautiful enough to make you get spooked and then learn to live with the spookiness, it becomes a part of you. So you find yourself leaning out and wanting to catch the rain on your tongue and wonder why things wouldn’t end already.

Why won’t they just end?