Smoke

I don’t have anything against smokers. It’s the smoke I don’t like. Especially the kind that I’m forced to breathe in. Of course the solution to that is to a) be polite and tell the smoker next to me to stuff it or b) make an obvious and pointed exit. And at times when the room resembles a gas chamber more than anything else, walking in and walking out is the only way to go.

And this is exactly what I found myself doing last night. Apparently there was an impromptu song and shayari session in the bar and those of us who weren’t already audience to it headed there. I had taken maybe 2 steps into the bar when I realised I’d probably die of smoke inhalation in the next 5 minutes, and since I hadn’t written my will or called everyone I know to let them know what I thought of them, I decided to step out. Here I was joined by the Fellow (also a non-smoker who likes the full use of his lungs) and another officer (whom I keep supplied with chocolates and who thus felt chocolate-bound to keep me company). While we discussed the habits of smokers and then moved onto talking about drugs, their use and of course, availability, another officer walked out of the bar. On being asked where he was headed to, he indicated with that typical hand gesture that he was off for a smoke.

“Uhh….why don’t you stay in the bar and just take deep breaths? That would save you a cigarette at least.”

“I would, but the smoke is not the right brand.”

That’s the fauj for you.

Excuses

It’s been too long. And I can only plead laziness. Of course a lot of stuff has been happening since I wrote my last post, but that’s no excuse is it? Or is it?

Since I was in Bombay last, the sister has gotten engaged (in the big fat Marwari way), a first cousin also got engaged a week later, I returned home after a near two month long vacation (not a happy feeling at so many levels), my garden has turned green from brown and is now full of flowers and butterflies, the weather has dropped from the high forties to the mid-thirties, making life so much better and I’ve attended at least two parties a week since I’ve been back. Then there was my decision to make (and not buy) rakhis for my brothers this year and so a lot of my time was spent in paper quilling and being all excited about the pretty results. I’m also making lots of rum-raisin chocolates for the neighbours (much to the annoyance of the Fellow who doesn’t get to eat any) almost every week. There is also the lending of time to the aunts who live here and help them with their various independent ventures and stuff (basically giving them motivational speeches and showing how to give a good sales pitch to customers). Oh, and I’ve also been hit by the photography bug and am now the neighbourhood nut who can be found stalking the butterflies in her garden at all times of the day (to be fair, I’ve also stalked some of the kids and now have some pretty good portrait and action shots).

And if I don’t stop now, I’m sure my list of excuses will require a blog of its own and then I will have two blogs which I don’t update regularly.

For Now

I'm in the process of typing out a really long blog post of what i now call the worst day ever since i got married (please to note there have been worst days before i got married but now they're all blurry and in sepia in the recesses of my brain and i can't be bothered to dig them out just to go into denial once more).

Anyhoo. My point here is that this is just a for-the-record kind of post. I'm in Bombay. And it's raining. Which, after dust storms is such a pleasure. Even though everything is mucky and wet and i'm carrying only really flat footwear.

I've been here two and a half days and already i feel like i never left (until i see the next empty ground near my house where a skyscraper has sprouted). I've gotten stuck in traffic (after zooming across the sea-link), had to wait for an autorickshaw for a long time, spent a seriously fun evening with girlfriends (and baby. Sigh), eaten gujju-style sambhar, bought crazy expensive fruits, discussed the merits of going to Amar Juice C at 1 am, gone shopping in Irla, cursed all the drivers in this city and then some, gotten stranded due to an autorickshaw strike, sat cosy indoors while it poured outside, bemoaned the lack of pakodas at home (everyone is on a diet owing to an upcoming wedding in the family - post coming later) and generally enjoyed being back in my room staring up at the very familiar ceiling.

And while i do plan to get some actual work done while i'm here (apart from the food and friends ie), for now i'm just enjoying the smells, sights and sounds of *meri mitti mera desh* Maybe tomorrow i'll start complaining?

Weddings, Travelling, A New Camera, Gorgeous Weather and Then Some II

Follow the link for photographs

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=443704&id=640190612&l=b1b6cc5c50

Weddings, Travelling, A New Camera, Gorgeous Weather and Then Some

It's been too long since i updated the blog. And with good reason too. I've been away, having way too much fun! Weehooo!!

The brother-in-law got married last month and this one was a 10 day affair, spanning 2 cities, 2 cultures, 2 families, little sleep, and unbelievable amounts of food (but that goes without saying no?)

And so right from when we started driving to Delhi, to now, when i'm all bundled up in bed in Shimla (while it rains outside), everything has gone by in a blur of wedding functions, changing clothes (3 times a day) travelling across the country, eating awesome food (i can write a whole new post on this), meeting a host of people, smiling for even more photographs, going click happy with a new (totally awesome) DSLR camera, making new friends from around the world, taking in some gorgeous weather and generally having a good time!

There is so much i want to write about, like how the groom drove across the country (literally - from Delhi to Bangalore) for his wedding, how the elephant who was supposed to give the groom a ride, freaked out and scampered away, how the bride's dog took part in every conversation that happened in his territory, how a cousin got her clothes torn while protecting her brother's shoes, how the bride and groom were actually on time for the reception (and how they spent the next day counting all the moolah they raked in) and so much more!

But for now, all i'm going to do is sort through the thousands of photographs and go upload crazy on Facebook!

Death Two Ways

Some friends are on vacation and have left me (and the Fellow) in charge of their pet fish. I was supposed to go to their house everyday and drop a palm-full of fish food into the tank. Of course I did it. And made the Fellow do it too. In fact we ended up taking turns in feeding the fish, with me praying each day we didn’t find them dead and floating (I mean, I loved Finding Nemo and it would just be too traumatic to flush the little thing (s) away).

And then I had to travel for work (sounds so important when I say it like this no?). Yesterday, while I was chatting with a cousin (yes, work takes me around family. Fun) I suddenly remembered the fish. I called the Fellow immediately, who, as it turns out had just remembered them too! After telling him where the house keys where (men I tell you!) I turned back to the cousin. “Feeding fish didi?” she asked. “Yes” I replied. “Online?” she returned?

I knew then, that something in all of us (or at least my cousin) has had to have died, when feeding fish reminds you of online pets. I mean seriously? With all the Farmville and Fishville going around, whatever happened to the real thing?

Well, 5 minutes later I knew. The real thing had died. Well, 3 of them at least. Apparently the oxygen pump stopped working and 3 fish floated up before rescue in the form of the Fellow arrived on the scene.

Scoop. Drop. Flush. Sigh.

Major Flaw

I think the human mind has some major flaws. For one, it doesn’t let you forget. It may make it seem like you’ve gotten past something, and even wiped it clean out of your memory. But it’s just a trick. Your mind is playing with you. It forgets nothing. It lets you forget nothing. Just when you’re least expecting it, it surprises you. And not the balloons and cake and a bunch of your friends hiding in the dark kind of surprise. No. It’s the dark alleyway with a predator around the corner waiting for you silently type. It’s the kind which keeps you awake for hours at night. You associate with it a racing heart, a blind panic and a feeling that every particle of you is in emotional pain.

Sometimes I can understand why denial is such a powerful tool. And why it might be tempting to use it to the point of clinical disturbance.

But I guess, the human mind is more resilient than that. Damn it.