Random Notes

Too many things (once more) to write about.

Attended 21 yr old cousin's wedding last week. Needless to say it felt like we were getting a child married off. But she wanted to get married. I envy her lack of ambition sometimes. Makes life so simple if all you want from it is a husband, money, new clothes and parties to attend every week. 

Have realised that marwari wedding songs are super fun. There are songs for every part of the wedding festivities, songs for the bride and groom and songs for their relatives. Add to this traditional rajasthani tunes and awesomeness is guaranteed. Even a week later i find myself humming and singing  these songs.  Who knew i'd like something else that was marwari other than the food! 

Caught up with friends in Jodhpur. Yes. I have friends in Jodhpur. Never did i once think, in all my years of visiting the grandparents and extended family there, that i would, one day, have friends to meet. It was such a new feeling, even after having lived there for 2 years, to hang out with friends in a city i primarily associate with vegetating at the grandmom's house and meeting boring relatives every evening. It was worth it, even if i had to listen to the grandmother grumbling about me never being at home.

I'm a besotted aunt. My 13 month old niece has been going *bua bua bua* ever since i got here. Full heart melt happens. Of course, when she refuses to sleep and bawls her head off, i feel like smacking her. I'm fair like that. Adorable is in it's place but needing an army to feed and entertain her is another. Also the dog is feeling totally ignored and left out because the baby gets all the attention. So i've been sneakily feeding her almonds every couple of hours. 

My immune system is shot. A fortnight back i woke up with a sexy cold voice and a stuffed nose. For 2 days i walked around with a box of tissue papers and ended up with one less layer of skin on my nose. Thankfully my Rudolph impersonation ended before the wedding. Imagine the photos! Unfortunately, a cold wave hit Jaipur and the sexy cold voice was back. But you know how sexiness fades right? Yeah. Now i sound like Lurch from the Adam's family. Not sexy. Also i seem to be setting a record for most snot produced in 3 days. Yes, i said snot. Oh, and every time i blow my nose, the niece giggles. 

All of last week has been about everyone around me asking, no, telling me to have a baby. It's mildly gross and extremely annoying. Gross because your grandmother is telling you to go do it and annoying because it's none of anybody's business really. But all sorts of motivation is being provided. From cute custom baby furniture and clothes/accessories to expensive gifts. I personally believe that since there are to be no more weddings in the family for at least 3 years now, people just need another reason to party. 

Oh, and i think i have a crush on Ram Kapoor. What? 

Questions Normal Girls Ask

Continuing from Mudra's list of questions, here is my own:

Another one for Palladium - Why no ladies restroom on the ground floor? I was directed to the first floor where, as Mudra pointed out, there are 4 cubicles. Maybe south bombay snootiness doesn't permit peeing in a mall and hence you didn't think it necessary to cater for us. But i'm from north bombay. I go when i have to. 

-----------------

What the eff is/was Teddy Day? Who the hell comes up with/starts this crap? 

-----------------

Older people who insist on being on Facebook and/or Twitter, why do you *all* put up passport photos as display pictures?

Also, girls who talk to their mothers on Facebook, do you have to *heart your mumma* all the time? Alternatively, mothers, do you have to be proud of your baccha on every one of her photos? Even when she's wearing a leather skirt and fishnet stockings in the snow?

------------------

Talking about fashion, all these fancy-pants shoe stores have come to India. But why the hell do they insist on putting 5 inch heels on everything they have? Also why the clunkiness? Or are their shoes only meant for the lollipop figured girl and hence the heavy shoes are required to weigh her down to stop her from tumbling over? 

------------------

Bombay Store. What is with the prices? Also Fab India. Seriously? 

------------------

Is being gay/lesbian/bisexual in fashion? Or was my generation just too busy doing other stuff in college (like studying. So lame, i know), and so didn't get a chance to explore own sexuality?

------------------

Oh, and if every man i meet (in real life or on twitter) complains about simpering, whining, Twilight watching, Edward loving, damsel in perpetual distress type girls, why are all the intelligent, funny, well read, Tolkien reading girls single? 

-------------------

Several more questions are in the head but they are mostly those that i've ranted about several times earlier. In brief (and feel free to talk about them on your own blogs or in the comments) here they are:

Why do TV channels insist on showing the new Umrao Jaan with Ms.Plastic Bachchan every second day? Her performance is an insult to the memory of the whole profession really.

Why are doughnuts addictive and fattening? Ok so this is a rhetoric, for the universe really. 

Why the hell won't people stop talking about 21st Dec.2012 in hushed voices? I remember the same excitement about Y2K and look what happened. 

Why won't you leave that Beiber boy alone? All of you sing *baby baby baby oh* when you think no one is listening to you. Mainly because all the malls play that song. 

What is with the mass panic before a dry day? It's not like all of you are swimming in alcohol every non dry day. And if you do, give your liver a break. And if you can't stand the thought of an entire day without alcohol, might i suggest rehab? 

Alone

He was envied by his colleagues and loved by his friends. His presence made any party more fun to be at. His was one of those charming personalities you read about in books and success stories. Wherever he went, he left behind a trail of unbridled laughter and fond memories. Everyone he met believed they held a special place in his life. Over the years he'd become, for a lot of his acquaintance, that one constant in their lives. He was their anchor, their shoulder to cry upon, the one person they knew who could be counted upon. 

And yet, he was alone. Disconnected from everyone around him. Sure, he knew a lot of people. But did anyone know him? Did anyone know who he was behind the smile and the one-liners? His fears and hopes? His frustrations and joys? Where could he turn to for support? Who was his anchor? On difficult days, where it seemed like all he ever did was help others through their problems, the weight of the world would descend on his shoulders and envelope him in a shroud of depression. The feeling of loneliness was never more magnified than at such times. Left alone with his thoughts, he felt he was definitely going crazy. The despair, the feeling of giving up, that gnawing sensation of having no one who cared enough. The morbidity of the situation came upon him like a hailstorm in June, leaving him breathless. No sane person would feel this way surely? 

But maybe it was normal to feel this way. Maybe he had to be insane to not want somebody by his side. to know him, not for his fabulous lifestyle, but for who he was once the parties were over and real life began. Maybe he had to feel this way so that he knew what he was missing. The one thing that would fill that void he'd begun to sense more often than before. The last piece of the jigsaw puzzle. The anchor in his life. The shoulder he needed. 

When You Have Time To Think

And once again i find myself with so many things to write about that i'v ended up writing about nothing.

*So* much has happened in the last week.

The in-laws left after about five weeks with us. It took me four whole days to get used to being alone at home all day again. Also i was convinced for the first two days that my plants were looking sad and droopy, reacting to the absence of the motherinlaw and her green thumb. Turns out, they needed water. I'm kidding. It seems plants do that towards sunset. But i'm still on red alert, given my tendency to kill any plants i take care of. I have bad karma like that it seems. 

The weekend was spent in a manner that i assume is common for couples working in the corporate sector. All of Saturday the fellow was out, all of Sunday, i was. So basically we met on the weekend only for dinner. What i was doing all Sunday is worthy of a whole new post (like most of everything i talk about) but lets just say it involved escorting 800 plus women to the NDA for an all day outing. Yes. That many. Any we ended the day without any fights breaking out or anyone tearing their saree or dupatta. Quite an achievement i say. Oh, and I also won second prize in the lucky dip.  

The week saw us attending two parties (three including the one we have to go to in ten minutes). The first one was a smaller group of people and the happiest thing to happen was realising that an Air India airhostess can be identified from 10 feet  away, in any situation. Also, they really do look grumpy. Really. Oh, and the next party where there is dancing, i'm carrying ear plugs. I still appreciate the auditory sense that i possess. The second party we attended was labelled as a *Musical Evening*. This basically means that anybody in the entire station who thought they possessed an iota of talent could torture the rest of us realistic-about-our-own-talents people. So tortured we were that the Fellow and i decided to go watch TinTin that had been put on for the children's entertainment. But the tandoori chicken was yummy. Also we managed to leave early and did not have to listen to teenagers butchering ABBA for too long.

Grocery shopping happened. Finally. The mall was all decked up in the tricolour and was playing patriotic songs on full volume (on terrible speakers). Although i don't think it was the speakers as much as it was the fact that the cd must have come out of the cover after August 15th and was probably all scratchy. Same thing on TV. Bi-annual outing for most movies playing. And i think Gandhi should be banned from all tv channels. 

Last night another party had to be attended. And the only reason i went to it because i was tired of being alone at home all day. Yes. It's not as fun as i thought it would be when i was a child. This was one of those formal dos that had everyone yawning and looking at the time every three minutes. And yet it went on till nearly midnight. The only consolation was that i was smart enough to carry something warm to wear and could feel all warm and smug while the other women paid for their vanity and shivered through most of the evening. What? I'm evil like that. Maybe that's why my karma is all messed up and i kill plants. Hmm.

At this point, i've taken a look at all that i've written and i think i need to stop. Enough mindless rambling, dear diary type writing has been done. If you're still reading this, don't worry, the pain is almost at an end. Have a good weekend. 

The Anatomy of Pants

The biggest trial in my life is shopping for pants. I avoid it like the plague and i dread having to go buy jeans, linen pants or even formal trousers. Why? Because they don't make them for normal women anymore. And while people may have doubts about the normalcy of my mental state, i'd like to believe that physically, i could be categorized as normal. Whatever normal is. 

So i'm neither thin nor obese. I'm what they call *khaate peete ghar ki* or *healthy* (in the most euphemistic way). That, coupled with the curse of the Indian body type (which was designed, i think, only for sarees), makes it nigh impossible to find that perfect pair of pants. Why?

Because pants have a mind of their own. Which is as messed up as the people designing them.

Pants today look good only on the mannequins wearing them. Which means, that for those same pants to look good on a human, she needs to have proportions like that - extra long legs, almost no ass, a tiny waist. And what do I have? Neither of the above. Suffice to say, it's sheer torture inside the dressing room.

With formal trousers i never know what i'm supposed to look like. Maybe because i still haven't managed to find a good pair in all these years. There seems to be nothing out there that doesnt make me look like a short dumpling with a giant bottom. And if my derriere does look good in a pair, the thunder thighs grab your attention. No, don't visualise it. I can't afford your therapy. 

And don't even get me started on jeans. The problem starts much before the trial rooms. For some reason that i seem to have too much sense to understand, people manufacturing jeans have all decided that wanting a pair of jeans that actually reaches the waist is like asking for the moon and a couple of stars. No really. Try looking for  a pair of jeans that is mid-waist. The sales people will look at you with pity. Almost everything out there (at least in the women's section) is low waist. Straight leg, slim leg, boot cut, all in low waist. And pardon me if i'm being difficult, but i really have no interest in joining the group of women who make you cringe every time they sit, bend or do anything but stand ramrod straight. You know *exactly* what i'm talking about don't you? Yes. That.

So yeah, i hate shopping for pants. They just don't respect fat. Or being healthy as i'd like to call it. And if you're a skinny female reading this, please to not try and disagree with me. I might decide to sit on you and you know you will break. 

Opposites Attract, Yes.

She was from the plains. He was from the mountains.
She was motion sick. He lived life at a minimum of 900km/hr.
She could live on icecream and frozen yoghurt. He didn't understand how.
She liked to be 5 mins early wherever she went. He timed it to the last second.
She was an organised neurotic. He never knew where his things were.
She ate aloo parathas for dinner. He insisted they were breakfast.
She froze at 17 deg C. He laughed at her and turned the fan on.
She listened to Bedardi Raja on loop. He worshiped Bob Dylan.
She had a mild case of road rage. He switched the engine off and waited.
She made friends at the drop of a hat. He took his time.
She didn't understand management and finance. He bought books about them.
She was a stationery whore. He was a slut for gadgets and gizmos.
She could live on sandwiches. He didn't think it counted as proper food.
She wore uncomfortable heels for vanity. He shook his head in disbelief.

Talk about opposites.

PS: this came to me randomly as i enjoyed some strawberry icecream earlier today, even as i shivered in the cold that has descended onto Pune.

Another Year.

Another year gone by and all i can think of is that time definitely did not fly by this quickly when i was in school and not having any fun. No really. Those painful teenage years never seemed to end. And now when i want time to slow down, well, you know the cliches.

Anyway. Here we are.7th day of the new year and already so much has happened (this is 4th time i'm trying to finish this. Damn you, distractions).

For starters, our Christmas miracle (as mentioned in the earlier post) was more like an end of year present. As soon as the new year started, she had to be returned to her owner. Yes. She was claimed. Of course, i'm waiting to meet the chap who owns her and give him a piece of my mind. You cannot keep a pet and then go away for months, relying on friends to mind her. Hmph. Anyway, the next day after we sent her away she came back. And then she had to be sent back again. Sigh. So now we'll just get a dog of our own.

End of year or beginning of new year sales are all over the place and the inlaws are giddy with joy. I was in Bombay when they and the Fellow ended up at Westside. They went back the next day. And the next. The fourth time they went to Westside, i was with them. Bought indian formals and got stalked by two aunties who seemed to want whatever i was trying on and buying. It stopped being funny 45 minutes later and after getting accosted in front of the trial rooms as well as the billing counter. Oh, they also wanted to know if my star sign was Virgo because our choices were *so similar beta*. Kill me.

Lots of plants were bought by the inlaws. I refused to touch any of them for fear of killing them. No really. I have a black thumb. As eager and excited as i am to have lots of plants in my house, i can't seem to keep any of them alive. And so i'm counting on the MIL to convince them that they're in a happy place and then i'll just water them everyday hoping like hell they don't die on me.

Also the Fellow and I have decided that we shall go for an hour long walk everyday. It's an excellent resolution actually. Very realistic. Really. And even better is that the results are beginning to show and if that is not motivation i don't know what is.