readysteadyblog

The Drunken Forest

2007-04-11T23:23:00.000-07:00

Look what I found!

Blue Joys

2007-03-26T04:20:00.000-07:00

On my work to work, I had a thrill of pure joy, pure joy run through me. That's more than I've ever had. I could have floated upwards and burst a cloud or two.

2007-03-14T05:01:00.000-07:00

Wednesdays bring forth a slew of questions:

Am I too fat?

Am I too lazy?

Am I too sarcastic?

Do I expect too much?

Am I spending too much on long distance phone calls?

Do I eat too many fries? (The answer to this one is a resounding yes, my arteries are clogging even as I type)

So I went and saw 300. I saw and I disliked. Intensely. But driving back from Versova I spent three quarters of an hour listening to Sufjan Stevens so all was not lost.

Another list – people who are curdling my brains.

Annoying clients

Stupid clients

Pretentious clients

Clients that hit on you

Clients

Things I like right now

The idea of a holiday

The idea of a promotion

Popcorn

Fries

Sufjan Stevens

Nick Drake

Humpty Dumpty

2007-03-05T20:48:00.000-08:00

I’ve been crashing forward into the hungry night for the last month – the cantankerous ache, the unwilling gash, the yawning stomach. And all I can think of is that I want to eat pizza day and night, day and bloody night. Forgive the strange post, I am in a strange mood, sitting on a strange chair at this point in my life. I feel like I’ve been shattered into fragments and then put together in a slightly twisted way such that none of the pieces really fit.

Jodhpourri

2007-02-21T10:01:00.000-08:00

And so it was that I went to beautiful Jodhpur for a friend's wedding and returned as usual to work in a state of flux. Wandered the labyrinthine jharokhas of Mehrangarh Fort, rested ruined bum on soft bed at Umaid Bhavan, got hit on, met insanely hot cousin of the Crown Prince of Jodhpur....sigh. My wanderings shall be stilled a bit now.
Currently reviewing: Family Matters
Currently playing in my head: Yoshimi Battles the Robots
Currently eating: Grapes (green)

Tagged

2007-02-10T03:35:00.000-08:00

That's Malaysia up there people!

I'm doing Shobhit's tag- I've cut out the more pointless bits - if anyone's interested, the original thing can be found here.

Name: M (my pathetic attempt at anonymity)
Nickname(s): Bunky..um
Single or Taken? Taken
Sign: Leo
Siblings: None
Shoe size: 8 or 9 or 10 or something enormous. I have feet like pomfrets.
What are you wearing right now? Trying a new Spanish black and red skirt, so that

Have You Ever:-
given anyone a bath? Doggies!
bungee jumped? No
broken the law? No
made yourself throw-up? Numerous times when I have been ill
gone skinny dipping? No
been in the opposite sex's bathroom? Yes
eaten a dog biscuit? Yes. I've eaten sand and soap too.
put your tongue on a frozen pole? Uh, no
broken a bone? No
played truth or dare? Yeah
been in a physical fight? Yes
been in a police car? No
been on a plane? Countless times
been in a hot tub? Yes
swam in the ocean? Um I snorkelled without knowing swimming. Does that count?
fallen asleep in college? Never! I was model student!
cried when someone died? For my pets
flashed someone? No, I'm dull like that
lied? D'uh
laughed so hard you fell off your chair? Everyday!
sat by the phone all night waiting for a call? No
saved e-mails? I don't delete them, but I don't exactly go back and read the old ones
wished you were someone else? No
wished you were a member of the opposite sex? Eew no!
been rejected? No. Wait, yes once! I have to say, it didn't hurt much
used someone? Not consciously
been cheated on? Yes
done something you regret? Yes

Who:-
is the last person that called you? Purnima
makes you laugh the most? Toy, Reenu, Elidio!!
can make you feel better no matter what? MAD BUNCHES of people!
was the last person you touched? Tas!
you hugged? Tas only baba
you yelled at? Faruqui
told you they loved you? My boy

Do You/Are You:-
like yourself? Somewhat
dye your hair? It was blue once. Does that count?
have piercings below the waist? No
stolen anything over $50? No
like ice cream? LOVE
Which is your favourite flavour? Swirly hazelnut and coffee ones (like at Indigo deli)
like cold coffee? Yeah, with lots of whipped cream
smoke? No
have beer? Yes
obsessive? Some
compulsive? Some
depressed? Yes
suicidal? Sometimes

Random:-
Prized possession: My laptop, my books, my mobile, my Ipod, my popcorn maker, my new cool shoes, my Tintin bag, my CDs and DVDs- Okay pod it is.
Last thing you said? Okay bye (to Purnima on phone)
What is beside you? My mobile, My laptop
Last thing you ate? wafers
Are you right handed or lefty? Right
Favourite song: Right now...Ben Kweller's Falling. yesterday, it was Sufjan Stevens.
Worst thing that has happened to you this year: What in the last one month?? Not much!

Time started: forgot to see
Time finished: forgot to see

Schism

2007-02-03T09:58:00.000-08:00

I am questioning right now the who I have become, the where I have come to, the why I am there. Something turned on the trip, something rent, I am no longer self-effacing but I am no gaudy showboat either.

Sitting alone at midnight on a beach, with Nick Drake strumming in your head and his arms around you…I am shivering with fear.

2007-02-03T00:33:00.000-08:00

And so I’m sitting here with a bar of orange chocolate dangling precariously from my mouth as I type, getting over the hangover which was my manic trip to Malaysia. One photo down, more later.

The Hungry Tide

2007-01-21T02:07:00.000-08:00

When I was reading English for my exams, I had every faith in the ability of literature to help change the world. Street theatre, controversial books…everything made a little bit of difference. Why else would governments ban certain books?

Then I grew up of course and realised the futility of it all. At the NGMA, for the celebrated new Edge of Desire exhibition, I saw art that was completely inconsequential, art that didn’t even make a point, no matter how trite. And living in a world in which the Kaavya Vishwanathans of the world can flourish does not say much about the quality of publishing today. It’s not only that she plagiarized entire passages, it’s just a very stupid book. Some things just don’t merit existing at all. Theatre – I love it so much, but most elitist theatre seems as though it’s preaching to the converted. I am perhaps an elitist leftie, but that is such a redundancy. Ritwik Ghatak committed suicide because he believed his entire life’s work to be a waste - the people his films were made for, didn’t understand them. His Meghe Dhake Tara made me cry though. I thought his films were pure brilliance, but I don’t count.

So maybe the scales have fallen from my eyes or maybe I’ve merely built a new, different kind of wall round my consciousness. It’s just two steps to apathy from here.

PS – Aayush and I have a music blog up, here. Come no?

Deve and Dal

2007-01-13T00:13:00.000-08:00

Karen Dalton is sharp and bluesy and folksy and makes a burrow in your brain. It’s made a lot of Devendra Banhart’s music fall into place for me. I feel like his little yellow spider laughing at the snow. Isn't he beautiful though?

In other news - have discovered lovely Foobar of the tiny footprint - it plays FLAC files and also other good things. It's all about the functionality y'all. (Look Shobhit, I even talk like Jessica Simpson! Or is it Britney? Or someone. Someone says y'all)

I'm empty and aching and I don't know why

Sunday edit: I want to live in a small Mogwai-house with windows made of nut chocolate and Cake and a bed on which I shall sit with a blanket of Arctic Monkeys thrown around my shoulders. Meanwhile, the hot Banhart and the hot Ben (Kweller) shall gently croon to me while my feet will lie in a pool of Sigur Ros. Far away, Yoshimi will battle the Pink Robots.

I want to start a music blog, a book blog and a food blog. Life can be so interesting sometimes.

Seriously, Foobar rocks.

2007 muah

2007-01-09T20:14:00.000-08:00

2007 has begun well :) In the last week itself, I have met two out-of-towner friends, been to excessively posh and pretentious Shiro and seen Babel and Happy Feet. New pants have been bought. New doggy friends have been hugged. I have discovered the exquisite Karen Dalton.
Also, in the best news of all, two of the worst people I have ever worked with (in separate offices) have simultaneously quit - that's Hideous Harridan and Bald Bastard to you. Perhaps they ran away together? My editorial director seems anyway to think everyone is sleeping with everyone else. The truth is however, that we are boring and sadly, all happily married.
In even better news...I may be going to Malaysia on work! My job is awesome! I love you job! *kisses job* The love, it is stronger. The brain, it is sharper. The humour, it is wittier. And now, I shall bounce away happily.

The Justice Friends

2007-01-03T00:23:00.000-08:00

Is this justice served? An 8-year-old girl is raped and dies due to excessive bleeding, while the defense attorney waffles on about mitigating circumstances “It could have been a momentary lapse on the part of Amrit Singh, seeing a lonely girl at a secluded place.” She was 8 years old, for crying out loud! The rapist is not charged with murder because the death was unpremeditated, and not because of any specific act on the part of the accused. And then this “The offence may look heinous, but under no circumstances can it be said to be a rarest of rare case.” Deeply disturbed.

Handholder

You go out of your way to build bridges with people of different views and beliefs and have quite a few religious friends. You believe in the essential goodness of people , which means you’re always looking for common ground even if that entails compromises. You would defend Salman Rushdie’s right to criticise Islam but you’re sorry he attacked it so viciously, just as you feel uncomfortable with some of the more outspoken and unkind views of religion in the pages of this magazine.

You prefer the inclusive approach of writers like Zadie Smith or the radical Christian values of Edward Said. Don’t fall into the same trap as super–naïve Lib Dem MP Jenny Tonge who declared it was okay for clerics like Yusuf al–Qaradawi to justify their monstrous prejudices as a legitimate interpretation of the Koran: a perfect example of how the will to understand can mean the sacrifice of fundamental principles. Sometimes, you just have to hold out for what you know is right even if it hurts someone’s feelings.

What kind of humanist are you? Click here to find out.

Also Known as How I spent the Last Week of the Old Year

2006-12-31T07:54:00.000-08:00

At the end of the year, the best things are the familiar things - popcorn and movies, chingdi malai curry at Oh! Calcutta, a walk in the park with my many doggies, a rickshaw ride to Juhu with S, eating icecream while waiting to watch a movie, looking up at the stars from my balcony, putting up the Christmassy stuff, conversations with F about her weird amours, early New year phone calls from T-who-is-so-far-away, planning holidays with friends, planning holidays with work-mates, planning holidays, arguing with Dad, creamy hot chocolate in the morning, aloo parathas, K's birthday party with lots of lovely wine.

Happy New Year everyone!

The Food and the Word

2006-12-23T09:02:00.000-08:00

The very short story.

What have I done? Not much except eat. Christmas sweets, sushi, jalebi, pani puri, lovely Thai yellow curry, Tub Tim Grob (some sort of water chestnut Thai dessert), prawn curry, biryani, fried fish with veggies. And this was just yesterday! Am terribly afraid that I will bloat so much that a day will come when I have to roll into my office and then not fit into my chair. That sort of thing actually happened to a plump girl in my office - she sat on a stool and it broke, she rumbled to the floor and brought down a small dustbin with her also. It cracked. Dustbin, not girl.
Because of all the food, I refused to leave my chair through the day (not so much refused as was unable to) and ended up downloading lots of Arcade Fire. BitTorrent is so slow sometimes, t'is a tragedy.
In other news, I have started this reading this lovely, lovely book for the 12th time. I actually knew a real Michele Roberts once, a whiny girl who couldn't exist outside of a boyfriend. I mean literally, I can't remember a time when they weren't getting it on together. I want more books by her, I want I want I want, much like Frederica Potter wanted Alexander and power and knowledge and sundry other things in The Virgin in the Garden.

Les Femmes Fatale

2006-12-16T09:48:00.000-08:00

A S Byatt is not everyone's cup of tea and certainly no longer fashionable today, but I still like her books - very academic and loquacious and brimming with ideas. More than Possession, her award winning book, I like her Virgin in the Garden series. She plays with words - she makes me want to read aloud her writing and sometimes I do, scaring the bejesus out of my grandmother who will have just nodded off at that particular instant (we share a room now...sigh). I like words, I like etymology, I like rolling words under my tongue, I like seeing printed words on a page, I like typing words out. Is this why people have blogs? Byatt's quartet of books is perhaps not as compelling as The Alexandria Quartet, but it's closer to my heart. It's ridiculous though, this what I'm doing, comparing completely dissimilar series with each other, merely because they co-relate numerically.
The life of this lady has interested me always. And Zadie Smith writes incandescently I think. Women inspire me always - Eunice de Souza is splendid and not only because she taught me. She was splendid - an excellent teacher and an excellent poet. There are few teachers who can call their students 'cabbages' and still have them eating out of their hands.
Possession was translated onto the big screen. I never saw but I don't think I missed anything because it had Gwyneth Paltrow who recently essayed the part of Sylvia Plath in Sylvia and mangled the role and also because very few lovely books translate well to Hollywood potboiling sort of films. The only one I truly loved was The Hours. And that book was written by a man and a very splendid sort of man too. Although of course, not as splendid as Eunice de Souza.

2006-12-11T01:17:00.001-08:00

Suddenly at work today, lunch pangs hit my stomach at 11:00. (I normally eat by 1:30 or so.) The early yearnings were surprising actually since I had been swallowing cough syrup and phlegm in equal quantities the entire morning, plus the spare bit of tissue that I had been stuffing up my nose.

The entire bloody day I have been fielding comments from people that all sound exactly the same. “Hey, so you have a cold huh?” People can be very observant, the little snots and I’m going to pay them back in the same coin with my barbed wit which is, as always, about as sharp as George Bush’s brain. Gah. I feel like my mucus has extended its snotty tentacles and curled them round my brain, gently rocking it to sleep. NO-ONE MESSES WITH THE BITCH TODAY. Btw, people who aren’t black and say ‘biatch’ piss me off.

BTW - Snot was a metal/punk/funk band (also known as "Loungecore") based in Santa Barbara, California. It was formed in 1994 and broke up in 1998 after the death of vocalist Lynn Strait in a car accident. Not that you needed to know that. I have discovered some old Wilco songs and will sing myself to my happy place, luckless colleagues be damned. This shall be my revenge.

Besters and Boys

2006-12-07T22:31:00.000-08:00

A friend told me that he wouldn't comment on my blog because he finds it too frivolous. But I think trivialities are fun and what makes life are the little things anyway. And to my friend I say only the one thing "Your blog is boring, sir." But he's a sweet one and really, this is the sort of thing I can only write on a blog - there's no way I can tell it to his face. I'm a wuss that way.
But there are some people who can say pretty much anything to me and get away with it. One is the aforementioned bester S (otherwise known as Toy in the real world), K who is so far away now and the boy who has been known to say with complete impunity - You don't have to be fun or cool, I like you anyway.

Whee!

2006-12-06T10:04:00.000-08:00

Yay! I bought new music today!
For those who are interested: The Clash - London Calling (because it's iconic)
Sigur Ros - Takk (because I LOVE its cover design and CD and its ink blotty feel and its rough texture)
Telepopmusik - Angel Milk (because its soothing and jumpy at the same time)
Blur - Parklife (because I had the cassette and loved it long years ago and also because I can't resist Damon Albarn in any form really, not even if he was whipped in a blender and served with eggnog).
I mention eggnog because it's nearly Christmas and I LIKE Christmas and lights and wine-y cake and carols even, unless of course they are played ad nauseum, which they are in the US and its truly nauseating. But I don't like eggnog. I don't like egg anything. Is eggnog Christmassy? Probably not; I don't know why I think the two are connected.
Tomorrow I shall go look at presents with people and then not buy them any. I am entitled to such because I figure that since I am in depression and misery (because the boy has abandoned his trip), I can drag all my friends into the morass of my mind as well. Fun things I did today - chatted with bester S, ate tofu (I LOVE) and bought new music of course. Now I go.

You just try walking in my shoes, you'll stumble in my footsteps

2006-12-02T09:52:00.000-08:00

i took my new shoes out for a walk today and they bit like two little bitches. Or bastards. (I am nothing if not gender appropriate). Scabs have risen around the toes and near my ankle and I am in a great fright - I retired the old shoes and now am left with these horrors. Most might say that nothing could be simpler, I could merely step out to buy another pair, but most would be wrong. There is no-one more dismal than I at shoe-shopping (I do however, profess a fondness for boots) except my grandmother who once pronounced a pair of OSHO chappals to be too heavy for her. Besides I have feet like pomfrets - broad and long.
These are the shoes (or something like it at some odd German website) in brown with blue trimming. I was too lazy to take pictures. They're school-shoes I think, only cooler. How does one avoid shoebites anyway?

Moving on - have big, scary assignment at work. I hope it works out alright because I am going to ask for leave soon to go to Jodhpur in February. Also, I will get a raise which I need because I want new books and new music - right now, I am bumming Economist magazines off my dad, Orhan Pamuks off my artsy new friend, Murakami from my lovely old-new Japan-o-phile friend and umm...old jeans from my best friend. I think people give me their clothes out of pity because I buy so few. Where can I get colourful socks from by the way? May cadge a few from a dear friend who has blown me off one too many times and may feel guilty enough to buy me a present. F, if you're reading this *wink wink*.

2006-11-29T23:28:00.000-08:00

So I’m looking forward to a crummy new year. The boy, who was supposed to fly down for two whole delicious months, well… isn’t. So crummy Christmas, crummy New Year and crummy January. I have decided that relationships are just not worth it. I prefer food.

In other news…have lost all interest in Orkut, my one-time true love. It could be because I have been out getting drunk, fed and pampered every night for the last two weeks. I even bought shoes! This came as a shock to my parents who have been forcing me to buy presentable shoes for years – right now, I have only one pair of black boots which I wear obsessively and with everything. So what I’m saying is that I’m madly perky at certain times of the day and as dull as ditchwater at others.

Rage Against the Machine

2006-11-27T21:44:00.000-08:00

I’ve become a howling mass of rage nowadays. I don’t understand it, I look as though butter won’t melt in my mouth but we all know that that means nothing at all really. The Elizabethans would say that I am filled with yellow bile. It’s called the Theory of Humours, but of course you knew that. Of course you did.

Well anyway, I howled at the VP of the company for ‘forgetting’ to print me new visiting cards (I’ve worked here two years goddamit people I have rights!) , I howled at the credit card company for messing up my bill, I howled at the taxi driver who didn’t know the way, I howled at the conductor who didn’t have change, I howled at the lady who cut in line ahead of me, I howled at various people spitting / leching / eating / laughing / sighing, I howled at my hapless friend who had the gall to ask me a question thrice. Thrice! Do people not listen any more?! Aargh.

Well whatever, nobody seems to be buying it. Even when I’m mad, it appears that I’m meek. People are beginning to annoy me a lot, a LOT I say. I bet people would take me a lot more seriously if I looked like her.

If Mondays are dark green, Sunday afternoons are golden.

2006-11-26T02:03:00.000-08:00

So I finished the Inheritance of Loss finally and such is the power of her writing, that I only felt bad for the dog Mutt. Dogs are good people. That's not only because they have flattish tops of heads or because their bums shake enthusiastically when they wag their tails, but of course it helps.
In other news - the cousins have taken over the house. One who is 3 years younger than I am, and earns thrice as much *dejection*. But she got me a Velvet Underground CD.
Meanwhile, my head bobs to the Warhols and Sandi Thom's song that plays on a sometime whim on VH1. Isn't Sonic Youth super-awesome?

2006-11-24T09:37:00.000-08:00

Damn.

They don’t make mistresses like they used to. Back in the day, your mistress knew her place; she was a fuckhole and nothing more. But nowadays, mistresses are full of ideas and some of them even think they have rights. Well, Grover Norquist for one sees the drawbacks to these new-fangled mistresses, particularly if they are mistressing for Republican politicians.

Although some glitz has come off Mr Rove, Republicans have been more eager to blame botched campaigns and individual ethics scandals. “Bob Sherwood’s seat [in Pennsylvania] would have been overwhelmingly ours, if his mistress hadn’t whined about being throttled,” said Mr Norquist.

And by whining, Norquist means, “Locked herself in the bathroom and called 911, terrified after Sherwood tried to strangle her.” All the same, a sign of the times. Used to be that a mistress knew her place and simply acquiesed to assault instead of whinily summoning help.

Realizing that Sherwood’s ex-mistress might have a legitimate reason for not wanting him to win the election, Norquist backed up some and remembered who’s really to blame when a mistress gets choked, and it’s not her for trying to get rescued.

Any lessons from the campaign? “Yes. The lesson should be, don’t throttle mistresses.”

Still, ambigious. Why not throttle mistresses? Is it because it’s wrong? Or just because there’s an off chance they might “whine” to the police and to the press about it? If Sherwood could have gotten away with it, would that have changed Norquist’s advice? Considering his use of the word “whine”, it’s hard to imagine that he’d be overly concerned about mistress-throttling.

Got from this splendid link.

Things I didn't do this Week (and why):

2006-11-18T11:31:00.000-08:00

Go to Lonavla - quick return due to accident (grandma's)

Party in Borivli (too far)

Friend's birthday party - the theme was bling. (I don't do bling)

Friend's wedding in Juhu (blech, big weddings are gross and so are the results of the procreators)

Play (work)

Movie (work)

Play 2 (work)

I need something and it certainly isn't boredom.

Ode to a Friend

2006-11-16T09:39:00.000-08:00

Oh where shall I start my sartorially challenged beloved oh yes, I can see your underwear (AAAA) and WORSE, it's black and white stripes why not just wear it over your pants like Superman AND buy a bigger size of shirt or are you so poor that you can't afford one, it looks like your sleeves are going to bust open GOD in HEAVEN your jeans are all torn, bechara baccha are you in such a bad state or what. My child, this is not style this is poverty. All this foren voren is just not going to cut it samjhe. I am angered. Wait, is that oil in your hair?

2006-11-15T05:49:00.000-08:00

Lately, I’ve gotten obsessed with a whole bunch of things, mostly edible and mostly South East Asian. (Ooh, and I can swing a pair of chopsticks like no other).

Life is scary. Food helps.

2006-11-12T05:48:00.000-08:00

This book is brilliant!

Does anybody think the new Prithvi line-up is somewhat boring? I went to see this on Friday night after work and endured 90 minutes of being harangued by the artistes for not doing enough for those without a voice. It was not the best production - I thought Sarabhai (who still looks ravishing) was preaching to the converted anyway, the crowd seemed peppered with NGO types rushing about trying to save the world and besides, something more subtle would have worked better.
At one point, one of the performers talked about how people cover their noses when the poor pass and at exactly that moment, I brandished a tremendous handkerchief to blow my nose (bad cold) while several gentlemen looked askance at my frivolous gesture. Later, some random lady saw fit to chastise me on my ideals! Couldn't think of any acrid retort. Any direct attacks on my ideals always make me prevaricate like mad anyway. However, I did manage to sneeze into her drink. Ta da!

The Booker Book

2006-11-11T09:45:00.000-08:00

The boss has bought me The Inheritance of Loss to review. This cannot be a good thing. There are far too many cross-cultural / Indo-UK/US hybrid / migratory / postcolonial novels, most of whom are merely products of clever marketing. Refer Chitra Divakaruni. Plus, I dislike Anita Desai's sappy tales and I disliked somewhat Kiran Desai's earlier book - Hullabaloo in the Guava Orchard. Too much India exoticising. It appears that if we don't have elephants and fakirs, let us have monkeys, mad wives and seers.
The burning question now is, how shall i write a truthful review without being too acerbic?