Man as Beast?

yesterday didn't start well at all....my mom said that she saw the neighbor beating his 2dogs with a leather belt...the poor things are kept tied up together in a metal cage almost all the time only to be let out for this I suppose.... that leaves me with a question...does such inhuman behaviour give me the right to correct/educate him? Or am I as worse than him because I cringe inside but am scared/don’t walk over and do something about it..it’s almost the same when you are confronted with a wife-beating neighbor I suppose….do you say, “It’s their personal matter” and swallow your guilt or do you try and do something about it and deal with the consequences….

It’s not only this incident which has got me thinking….there has been a spate of news reports about cruelty towards tigers…I saw a video clip of villagers beating a pregnant, senseless tigress mercilessly…isn’t the word humane actually supposed to embody all the qualities something of a ‘higher’ species is supposed to embody- kindness, love, understanding of each other’s differences leading to tolerance?.....

Ok all this venting has to do with issues closer home…literally. My aunts who live downstairs have got a dog. Rather younger aunt rescued her from her previous owners who under fed, ill treated and chained her up all the time. The problem is that older aunt hates pets. She can’t stand anything that is not chained or caged. My parents don’t want a pet. Especially since we lost our own pet to cancer. And that is very painful. So all hell has broken loose. Nobody wants her. And in the middle of all this, I have fallen madly in love with her. She is so docile, is very cuddly and loves to sit in my lap…..I'm super scared and I don’t want her to go….

gift horse with rotting teeth, bad breath

what do you do when a loved one gives you something like this:

It's what we used to call a 'Mother Hubbard' sweater back in college. You know ribbed, buttons down the front and looking like my cat had bad fish last night. The biggest problem though is that it was given to me by my brother. Probably the one person who knows me the most. Which explains why I am so upset.

Does my brother know me so little to think I would willingly submit to be seen in something like that. Its a scary and life altering thought. And like with all good intentioned but out of place gifts, I have only one choice. I grin and carry wear it to the bus stop every morning, take it off there and put it back on the walk home from the bus stop.

Why do people give bad gifts? What makes an aunt believe that you will actually wear the light green salwar she has given you for your birthday when light green is the absolute last colour that goes with an Indian skin tone? Or what is the rationale behind bum chums gifting you a top 3 sizes too small because its 'sexy' and are then aghast that you don't fit into it. Or well meaning colleagues who gift you a purse made out of what feels like 'Original Lion Fur from the African Saharas' which you are forced to carry while your vegetarian-animal loving soul dies a thousand deaths....

No I'm not a material girl. I'll love you if you give me a 5 buck Cadbury's chocolate for Valentines Day and I'll love you even better if you don't give me anything. After all, its the thought, that matters. And with most people, I wish the gifting instinct stayed at that...

So existentialist question. Is there some kind of larger force at play that makes it necessary for all bad gifts to be gifted to me? Or do you have a better story?

...I'm It now!!

This is from Santozz's tag.....Really enjoyed doing this so J, yours next :)

What is the oldest / first memory you carry :

1. Of your Mother: This has to be my oldest memory…me bawling my head off because my mom was leaving for work…I must have not been more than 5 I think…my maid carrying me and standing in the middle of the street staring after my mom…I’m guessing she was scared because I remember howling really, REALLY badly….Of crying: Being slapped by a classmate in kindergarten because I, as monitor, refused to let him into the classroom during the break…

2. Of your father: My dad bathing me when I was little. He used to scrub me so hard I used to cry and that used to annoy my dad very much!!…

3. Of School: This involves another member of my family!! Pesky kid that I was, I used to always insist on hanging out with my older cousin sister and never my own friends in kindergarten. One day I insisted on sitting with her for lunch and her friend was like, “Why does she always come here” and everyone started laughing…

4. Of a fight: Around Class 5, I outgrew the shy phase and became a total tomboy. I had this huge tussle with this other girl in my class once. We both pushed each other around the class till the bell rang to signal the end of lunch. Best part is, we were both laughing because it was so much fun….

5. Of a lie you told: My earliest memory of this is from when I was in Class 4 or 5 telling my Hindi teacher that I had left my homework at home when in fact I hadn’t done it. Combination of being a goody two shoes plus being a painfully painfully tongue-tied kid meant I still remember the “I so don’t believe you” look she gave me even today…

6. Of a vacation: Endless summer holidays spent in the sun, with the sand between my toes eating raw mangoes at my grandparents house in Kolar and asking my cousins to make me whistles out of the leaves of this particular tree…

7. Of laughing: Sadly very few memories (early) of laughing out loud. Guess I was a melancholy kid.

8. Of a class-mate: There was this guy called Ian who was in my kindergarten class. I think I used to be madly in love with him. As usual though, I was too shy to ask him to be my friend or anything so don’t think anything came out of it.. :)

9. Of a relative: My granddad used to teach in my school and some of my earliest memories are of him buying me sweets from our tuck shop.

10. Of a Teacher: My kindergarten teacher Mrs David, who was so strict she used to scare the shit out of us. We had a little room where she used to keep rabbits. The stench in that room used to be unbearable but once in a while, as a treat, she used to allow us into the room to see the rabbits. One brownish white and one white.

11. Of your Brother / Sister: This is the hardest…too many memories jumbled up inside my head of my brother….always remember him being very possessive though…

Notes to myself...

read Hugh Prather's 'Notes...' many years ago first and thought it super corny. Re-reading it again now and although some of it is still corny sounding to me, it has also set me thinking....so here are my notes to myself....

Love your God. I have questioned my faith over and over again when I was faced with some of the worst phases of my life. But there has been light at the end of my tunnel. And I am grateful. Loving god makes you humble.Makes you able to laugh at everything and gives you a mint fresh perspective on life.

The truth does set you free. I have heard about convicts on death row who swear by this. Normally I wouldn't have thought that this would rank so high up on my notes. Nothing liberates you like the truth. It takes a moment of pain to face upto the truth and a lifetime of sleeping well at night!

Love. Yeah, I am getting corny now but love with all your might. Your family, your friends, life. Wear your heart on your sleeve. Love even if it means having to wait to be loved back. Or not being loved back at all.

Love your family. Being a horribly rebellious teen, I missed out on so many years of being close to my parents. The no of years directly equalled the no of stupid mistakes I made. Irrespective of that, they love me with such a fierceness, it brings tears to my eyes sometimes. And I know no matter what, they are the ONLY people I can really count on when it matters the most.

Adopt a pet: When it turns out to not be your day AT ALL, go home and hug your pet. Has worked for me.

Start each day with an open mind. Yesterday I judged a theatre competition. Today I chatted with a person on the bus I have seen for over a month now but never more than smiled at. Small things that I would have missed if I had set myself a 'grand plan' for leading my life. Take each day as it comes. Yes, its about finding time to stop and smell the roses.

...there are so many more notes that I could add...but this is a work in progress and is what I hold dear as of today... As I face each new day, I'm sure there will be a new note waiting to happen....

...and a brilliant New Year!!

so i succumbed to the demands of the populai and decided to pay insanely huge amounts of money just to be able to have a non loser-ish answer to the eternal question, "So wot did you dooo"?... i refer of course to New Year's....

I have realised that of all my holidays, the only ones I have EVER enjoyed are the ones involving sun, sand and surf. Although my holidayness is restricted to Pondicherry and Goa at the moment... Velankani was an exception but that experience was so traumatic I prefer not to go into the minors of that.

Maybe it is the calming effects of a brilliant clear blue sea. Or the luxurious feeling that comes with a $1000 per night room, which since you haven't paid for it, seem even more luxurious. Or lounging in what my friends call my 'skimpies' (never mind I nearly passed out from all the trying not to breathe thing). Maybe its just the feeling of knowing its ok to have no plan at all....so I'm back from holiday, v refreshed and ready to take on this new year.....

Made a couple of resolutions for the new year. I quit smoking. But today is Day 1 since and I have already discovered a smoking buddy.... bad girl....I have resolved to hit the gym in right earnest... And yes I will drink less coffee and stress less...wait that's last year's resolution.... ....Listened to this horoscope thingie this morn on the radio and the lady said that all matters of the heart will take a back seat and my career will come to the forefront....umm... seeing how I have so much to look forward to this year, I think I will go with this particularly Goan (I think...) custom before the New Year...make an effigy of all that I hated both in myself and the world around me and burn it...so that I am ready to start the year on a fresh, optimistic note:

MERRY CHRISTMAS YOU'LL!

a curious state of non being...

so this is it then...my last day here and i feel curiously unaffected. dont know if this is good considering i have always felt nauseating fear at the start of anything new-first day at college, first day with my theatre group even....

i'm looking forward to this i guess in some sense...and not too. what if i'm no good at my new job? but then again i was getting too comfy here in any case and the time to try something new is now i guess... i know these arguments like the back of my hand now considering i have been going over and over it for a while ....a month precisely....no one else seems to want to hear it...they just think i'm mad mad mad doing this....it feels a little like i'm selling my soul, my freedom....or maybe i'm being just too fucking dramatic as usual. whatever.

badly paraphrasing here from Zadie Smith but I think this best describes my mood now: The future is a whole new country and I don't know if I still have a valid visa......

goodbye journalism, hello corporate world!

on a serious post script.....

looking at the world with spinster eyes
at 26
too tired too wise

its the proverbial gilded cage. the key has slipped through my fingers ages ago. dusk has settled making it difficult to make out what should be glaringly obvious. staring out of the cage, eyes large with wonder and amazement...how is one born so beautifully incapable of the most basic? with brain, 2eyes, 2 feet, 2 hands...all perfect...and yet so absurdly incomplete it has no cure because it has no name....its amazing how many times the human body can be shattered and still rise up and withstand some more. can the same be said of the heart? i doubt it and it scares me that i'm being made a guinea pig in this game with no name....

my cynicism comfort blanket is proving to be of little use now...people are less tolerant of a difficult adult than they are with a rebellious teen...withdrawal my only option it seems....my tentative forages leave me more shell shocked each time than before....

'Some people are born not belonging'...Salman Rushdie, of all the people in the world, is ringing in my ears at the moment....

oh yes, i have to guard against the self pity...

making such a spectacle of myself....

i've come to the conclusion that looking at life through a piece of glass makes all the difference... i haven't worn my glasses 'publicly' for a while now. being fat and bespectacled growing up was too much to bear and i shed both the minute i hit college. now thanks to a badly scratched old pair and a never ending delay with the new pair of lenses, i'm forced to wear my glasses in my meetings with the outside world.

mind you, i'm not being paranoid. on the few occasions when friends or people in general saw me with my glasses there is always an uncomfy silence initially as if they feel the need to apologise for my hugely deficient vision. or of course there is the outright "how come you wear such thick glasses man" amazement written all over the face but never voiced. v particular then of my looks (little as they may be) i have tried to get rid of my awkward embarrassing childhood by hiding the fact of my glasses as best as i could. until now that is.

walking down brigade road this morning with my glasses on, i was suddenly unconcerned about who would see me in my glassy glory. no worrying about cat calls, taking a bus in a crowded stop or worrying about getting dust into my eyes all the time. i dont feel the need to explain them away. sure i wear glasses. they lend me a gravity i can easily hide behind...its also the easiest transition, i have realised, from 'akka' to 'aunty'.....

1% of the population is absolutely talentless

your's truly just came up with that theory. and i unfortunately, ladies and gentlemen, am queen bee of the 'hood. yup, i have just realised with increasing realisation, that i cant sing. am 2 left feet and splayed hands whenever i attempt to shake the booty. cant paint, hate cooking. cant discourse with poets and argue intelligently with great essayists.
in short, i'm pretty talentless. sigh, whatever shall we do with me?

I'm reminded of this quote by Woody 'The Great' Allen, which is so profound it brings tears to my eyes everytime - "My one regret in life is that I'm not someone else".

srumdiddlyumptious..........

under cooked veggies, lottsa wine, lottsa more laughter under a beautiful sky lit up by fireworks....theres something abt having a bbq with the people who matter most to u....
there's so much magic in the air it feels like christmas already.....

Au gout de la creme glacee

i've discovered there's nothing better than a 2 am gossip session with chocolate where everything from parents to career to marriage is dissected...it also got me wondering-how does a cousin whom u kinda grew up with and who is just 6 mths older than u think so diff from u? i guess i gave her a lot of food for thought and i expect part 2 tonight....the little french i did learn helped me read that as creamy ice cream flavoured chocs btw :)

finally trashed my moto for a nokia....with 1 gb memory...which means i spent a good part of my weekend trying to store songs on the phone with overworked left hand....n first thing i do is set my ring tone to 'pump it'....so as i slowly regress......

so true, so true..............

big girls do cry....

life is a bitch.....she takes away the little you have and then some....so my bro has decided to move out after his wedding...after he promised not to. with this i lose my idol, my confidant, my best friend.

this time i'm too tired to cry...too tired from crying over men who felt so right but were never meant to be, too tired from crying over men who shouldn't have been, too exhausted from being mad at the world when its me i hate.

whoever said big girls dont cry didn't mean it...

I'm singing in the rain....

What a glorious feeling to be alive again
I'm waltzing along,
Singing a song
I'm tapping my feet
To a bump-de-bump beat

I have a lil' seeket and I'm all feverish with excitement.....

Tortilla Flat

was turning out to be a morning of noconsequence...rainy outside, no pressing work....till i received the pleasantest surprise...

i had discussed John Steinbeck with this boss guy i met during an interview ages ago...and he was shocked i had not read Tortilla Flat, which he said is Steinbeck's most popular book...i promised to try and hunt for it....forgot entirely about the conversation till i recieved it by post this morning....v v touched....must remem to say thanks....apart from the fact that i love Steinbeck's books, i think part of my curiosity about this book is because i have this fancy for abstract-vague names....tequila sunrise...purple orange....sidewalks of the world....that's what i'm naming my coffee shop btw....

i'm a happy little girl again....

yawn....

its 8:45 on a monday morning and i'm at work already thanks to my physiotherapist who didn't show...yeah, i have finally decided my wrist pain is not something that will go away...2hrs every morn for a week...painful but highly necessary....went trekking with a bunch of ppl on Sat to this place just outside of Mandya....make that tried.....half way through the bothersome nerve in my wrist started the hip hop....pressure on right hand hip....grabbing at a rock hop....so i had to leave half way through which was v embarrasing....we planning on going on the 10th of Nov again and this time i intend to finish the course...

so im getting a s-i-l...

thats a sis-in-law...yeah, my commitment-phobic brother who has denied the existence of this girl for nearly 8yrs now suddenly decided on sat that he needs to "move on" and that "it is a natural progression"....didn't feel the shock too much since i had just come back from Octoberfest and was on a bit of a high...

but when i did, the next day, i cried non stop for half an hour and stopped only because i fell asleep....before i did, though, apparently i promised to move out of my room and to try and not hate her too much...and also apparently i asked whether i will still be top priority.....

my parents are worried since i said we dont get along too well....but bro assures me i will have no issues because she IS nice after all.... i just missed it all these years when she called me fat and rude...

im very happy for him because he says they love each other very much...but im hurting because i think im going to be brother-less in a bit....

its gonna be a bright, sunshiny day.....

somehow most of my fondest memories have a beautiful sunny day in them...and since im tripping down memory lane at the moment, im pulling one of my most loved ones out of the bag to blog about...

winters' morning in delhi...sun playing hide and seek with the clouds sprinkling the road with golden specks....i was driving down a deserted road with a friend, in no particular hurry to do anything...we pull up at a book sale...its a boutique shop and the discounted books cost a bomb so i wander to the coffee shop next door...

its done up in fiery reds and greens...holly and pretty little christmas trees...we order coffee and decide to stay long enough to play a game of scrabble....im so engrossed in my game i dont notice the owner of the coffee shop watching us....he walks up...asks if he can interrupt...and helps me score a brilliant 33 with just 2 tiles...

we get talking once the game is over.. he is about 30, owns a lovely coffee shop and says he does the crossword first thing in the morning....didnt know men like that existed anymore...it was almost 6 o'clock by the time we leave....and i was madly smitten.....

here we go then...

so about this guy (see post below)....he was the typical "i've got silicon valley written all over me, so stand in awe of me mere mortal. also i am wanting early marriage" type....

after much persuasion and tears, i finally agree to meet the guy... and since i have only promised to meet him and have not said anything about being nice, i decide not to waste time... below are some snatches of conversation from that evening....yes, i'm usually this difficult....

him: so how angry do you get...
me: (silent- i have no clue what he expects me to say)
him: what do you do when you get angry...do u break plates or something....
me: (still silent)
his mother: he is waiting for you to say you don't get angry....
me: (more silence)
him: what makes you angry...
me: people asking me a lot of questions....

him: you cook
me: yeah, maggie...sometimes.....

him: you have passport?
me: (i wish i had thought of something smart to say) yeah...
him: but you have never been abroad??????????????????????????
me: (still wishing i had something smart to say) no...

him: you have any questions for me?
me: no. i dont do this too often...

a bit after this i think they got up and left... i dont remember..i had gone back to reading my book.....