Be Right Back

Three posts in the drafting stage. Not one i can sit with long enough to finish.

So many "good" movies i ought to watch, but 3 hours of undivided attention is asking for too much of someone as bloated up as i am on a diet of 20 and 45 minute TV shows.

Books i guess are the worst hit. I still religiously go to the library, see stuff i would have liked in another lifetime, and get it home. Only to return it unopened. And mostly late. Other than a P.G Wodehouse or a Terry Pratchett, there is no other book i can reasonably guarantee i'll even open.

People i havent called up in an unforgiveably long time.

Places i have declined to go to.

I can of course blame it all on work. On the tending towards insane hours, on being called on holidays and weekends. But i know its more than that. Its like someone injected me with a giant syringe full of indifference. It is slowly spreading all over, and one by one the systems are shutting down. (Yes, too much medical drama in my diet). The only functions that are untouched yet are work, TV and strangely enough, the gym.

Now that most TV shows are on an unscheduled (and in my humble opinion illegal) break, the silver lining seeker in me hopes some of the above will rush in to fill the vaccum created.

On the other hand, i have been known to say BRB when i actually mean GTG.

Let the goose that lays golden eggs lay the eggs

There is no better way to "feel the love" than to pass through the comments section on various torrent sites. The ones that deliver, i mean. People are falling over themselves to thank the uploader, bless him, take his dog out for a walk, just anything for for the pleasure of being able to watch that movie or this episode of that TV series. Of course, the fact that they only have to type out their gratitude makes them promise more than would actually care to deliver if it came to that, but i have a feeling a lot of them mean what they say. And i can understand the love overflowing, but people, you have to be careful you dont drown the poor guy! The best example of what i'm trying to say are the <* I go for axxo but you can fill in the name of your favourite uploader here> for president! messages. To the people posting such messages. I understand you think just about anyone would be an improvement. I understand what axxo has bought to your life few others will. I understand you want to share the sense of happiness and fulfillment. But please, think for a minute. If axxo becomes president and goes around saving the world** with the same dedication and sincerity with which he rips movies, where will we go for our daily fix?


* Yippie! I finally remembered before publishing a post that angular brackets wont work.
** Yes, its the Heroes effect. Even the apple i eat somehow saves the world. Eat the apple, save the world.

To the one who (supposedly) sits up above the world so high

(For the record, this is not what i want to be writing. At all. The disclaimer just so i feel less of a hypocrite.)

You didnt have to do it. No, really. Take a casual comment, inspired more by nostalgia than any real love for the season, so seriously and bring winter to my city overnight. And while i have your attention, how about looking into that other stuff i've been going on and on about?

TIA.


(What if His system is that arbitrary? Each one of us gets a slice of His time and whatever we happen to be wishing for at that moment, is ours. We'd have to be clean and clear on the inside, 24x7. No more looking left one minute and be convinced that right is the way to go the next. No more wishing that guy would choke on his own cigarette, or wanting all traffic lights to turn into fairies and fly away, or wishing for a big tree to fall on her head and knock the nonsense out of it. It'd be worse than being good for Santa Claus!)

Now accepting applications for the post of driver for my Nova

Aah, Thursday's done! Just one more to go. Wish i didnt live this far from office, the ride is really starting to get to me. 40 kms a day on days i go to the gym, even the petrol pump assistant recognizes me now. At least it has stopped raining. Rains in November, what is the weather coming to? Heh, maybe the weather gods have also had to suffer layoffs. Maybe they outsourced to some developing part of heaven and are now dealing with communication issues. Idiot, at least dont make fun of your own side! I have to admit though, the rains make for a smoother ride. Right. And do you plan on getting those brakes fixed anytime soon? Whats wrong with them? So their output doesnt exactly correspond to the input, but i've gone months without any output from them at all. You think i cant do this? Oh fine. Even if you do say yes now and swear that you mean it, you are never actually going to do it. Like all those times you swear you are going to call up people. Err.. aah post rain is nice. Hey, man crossing the street, hurry up, i dont want to have to break for you. Damn he stopped! Why did he have to stop? He would have made it too. Break, break break. Damn it all, looks like i'm going to fall!

Excuse me. I hate to disturb you, but you do realize you are lying down in the middle of a fairly busy road? Maybe its time to try and get up? Whats the big hurry? I'm pretty sure no one will crash into me and say - woops, didnt quite see you there. I mean, i am lying in the middle of the road. Exactly. Fine, i'll get up. That wasnt so bad. Now for the bike. Shut it off first. Damn it, where are the people who gather around every accident and generally make a nuisance of themselves when you need them? Aah, there comes one. Yes sir, i'd like some help lifting the bike. Oh you can do it without me? Thank you. Yes i'm fine. You could have been a little less cheerful about that fine, you know. Yeah, yeah. I'm off though, arent i? Damn it, this means no gym tomorrow. Aerobics it was too. Nice going. This isnt so bad. Not much pain, i dont seem too disturbed or shaken, think i got away pretty light. OMG, is that a tear in my pant? In my latest if if i were to convert to a religion in which i'd be buried when i died, these are the pants i would want to be buried in pants?? What have you done, you stupid accident??? You might want to stop staring at the tear and lookup

BAM!

Where am i?


P.S. Since i am typing this, obviously at some point during the narrative my imagination divorced reality. But i do have a torn pant and a grazed knee to prove that once upon a time the two were together and very much in love. On the plus side (though nothing can make up for that tear) i got an injection and a dressing! I aint 'fraid o' no shots! I dont actually like them, but not being afraid makes me feel all (there really isnt a better word for this) macho. And dressing. Its my favourite thing about getting hurt. Bandaids, bandages, casts... the bigger the better! Totally makes up for the pain. Except maybe the time i hurt my upper lip while trying out some equipment in the gym and had to walk around with a Charlie Chaplinesque moustache for dressing. Okay fine, i loved that too.

Heroes, one season later

Warning: minor spoilers possible. So if you are not there yet, keep away.

It really is the best way to watch a series. Start late, so the episodes can gush out (a stream, a river, an ocean if you can take it) instead of the once a week trickle that you have to otherwise be satisfied with. For you own sanity though, make sure you have some immovables in your life to hold on to. Being swept away is fine, but you never know when the current becomes too strong to resist.

So, Heroes. Awesome series, totally hooked! Random observations follow.

Out of the billions in this country, find me one, one person named Mohinder Suresh. What kind of a name is that?? Seriously, for all the trouble they seem to have gone into to include world culture, Mohinder Suresh?? I'd have to try really hard to come up with worse. Maybe Bahadur Venkatachalam. Or Panjabakesan Singh. On a related note, how cool is it that they have a track completely in Japanese? Very. I now know that anything written on paper seems to be called manga in Japanese.

Its surprising how much Angela, Nathan and Peter actually look like family! Peter of course is my pick, but that guy needs to tone it down a little. You may be the one who blows up the world (okay New York city, but why split hairs?), but being hyper will not help.

Also, i'm not trying to be a bi**h here, but do fourteen year olds really look like Claire?? And her dad, oh he is easily the most morally manipulative character ever! Starts out by being the villain. Then we are told he has done it all to save his daughter and suddenly, everything is forgiven. Just like that, he is the good guy. It really struck me when i found myself rooting for him, that there is more grey in this series than, no there is only grey in this series. I'm pretty sure even Syler is going to come redeem himself at some point. Its like that voice tells us at the beginning of some episode (or maybe the end, its all one big mash in my head now), its not about right or wrong. Its about survival. It is bloody stupid to judge them by our moral yardstick, but hey, its the only one i have.

And how easily they kill of characters! Now they fill up an episode, and the next one they are gone. And everyone's life is so full of problems, no one looks back. In fact they seem so suspiciously caviler about the whole thing, for a while i thought they'd bring back the dead ones. After all, anything is possible. I really wonder how the writers manage to limit themselves to a coherent story. That much of freedom, i'd have gone mad picking a path and sticking to it.

I'm crossing over to season two now, but no spoilers so its safe. I love the way the Irish speak! I've kind of had a soft corner for them ever since i read Trinity. If i'd known Conor Larkin spoke like that, that accent, that lilt, oh damn!

Of course i have to end with if i could what one super power would i pick. Sticking to the ones they've shown so far and not considering the one with all the other ones, flying is in. So is becoming invisible. Talking to machines too. If i were a true geek, at some level i'd already feel connected. But i'm not. Think how super cool it'd be if i could just touch a machine and tell you why it crashed!

I think i'll fly. Have a house in the sky.

And finally, if i seem harsh, its only because i love you and want you to do better!

P.S Just back from imdb. Found out that the dude who plays Mohinder is named Sendhil Amithab Ramamurthy. I eat my words.

Do not do unto others...

Sometimes, all you want to do is hold up a mirror to people. In the hope that they'll see what they have become. That they'll see the exact things they find so difficult/unkind/wrong in others staring back at them. That what they'll see will affect them enough to want to change.

But you dont.

Because you are not sure you cannot handle a mirror being held up to you.

The Three Hundredth

Post this one is. Which of course means it has to be a meta-blogging one. I did toy around with the idea of postponing it to the 301st, but pretending to be different? Lame-r than following the herd.

Warning (inserted after having written halfway): This is going to be very boring to anyone who was not there. And since no one but me was there though the 6 years i plan to cover...

The first two years
She inspired me to start. With this post. Took a few posts to develop the courage to come out to my friends. Started a group chat on MSN, our communication lifeline back then. For everything from lunch to tea to snacks to badminton to birthday cakes to random leg pulling to gossip.

Me: I have a confession to make (or something equally dramatic)
She: Now what?
(To this day, i remember she said that. I wonder why. Its not like we did dark confessable deeds everyday. We were seedhe saade bachche log. Very. The only way we were conspicuous was by the amount of noise we made on the lunch table. And err... the number of helpings of food some of us couldnt do without.)
They read. Didnt laugh. Continued to read without having to be reminded. And that is how it took off. Did anything change? I'd like to think so. Most of them blogged at that time and i think reading each other pushed us away from that line that divides colleagues and friends.

The next two
IIT. I know the blog helped. Provided the bootstrapping i needed to come out and start talking to people and hitting people and throwing things on people... (That and the most embarrassing game of basketball ever, but shhh). And i'm so glad at least some bits of that magical time are on record because in a few years, i'll have no problem believing it was all a dream.

The last two
Is when the blog became something more than (lets face it) an outlet for my vanity. Writing helped. Added meaning, at times took it away, made things appear lighter. And has it changed anything? It has been recently discovered at work, not that i'd made it difficult, there is a link on my Orkut page, for God's sake! What does it say about me that it took two years even so? That maybe, i'm not done with needing the bootstrapping.

New theory on weekends

A weekend expands to accommodate all the episodes of Heroes you have managed to get home. After all, it would do at all, would it, if you went back to work on Monday with unfinished business?

The post that shouldnt have been

I know a couple of people like that. Who dont like celebrating days - the day she was born, the day we met, the day Ram killed Ravan, the day Jesus came back... who believe that celebrating something on a designated day actually takes away from the occasion. Celebrations should be spontaneous, they say (or i imagine they do, havent really asked), not turned on and off by the calendar.

I couldnt understand why they analyzed so much. After all, how often would you spontaneously go through the bother of making 10 different kinds of sweets or treat 15 people to dinner? Punctuation marks inn what would otherwise be a really long sentence.
(How do you say did you see that? did you see that?did you see how clever i was? without actually saying it?)

Until of course, i caught the same disease. A milder strain, to be sure, but the disease is the same. I dont like mass distributed happy messages. Okay, maybe i dont dislike them, but I do think they are quite meaningless. All they really say is that you are in the sender's address book. (okay, i admit there is a corner of my heart (that i would like to disown) which is glad of even that). Its almost as impersonal as Airtel wishing you a Happy And Prosperous New Year!

Given that half of the people who currently read this blog actually sent out Happy Diwali messages, i wonder why i even wrote this. I mean, given a choice between being nice and being honest, i pick nice. Always. Its so well established in certain circles that people have stopped asking for my opinion on the new cupboard they have bought. Not that that is such a bad thing, me not being a particularly interested or competent authority on cupboards anyway.

Who knew blogging could bring out the nasty in me!

About Aditi

Khabar Nahi is the new Aditi. Like Aditi, it can pick me up from bottomless hells, telling me everythings gonna be okay. While Aditi did it with the words, with the music, with the voice, this one does it just by being.

Of course, it might turn out that the fool is singing it to his sandwich. After Aditi turned out to be about a cat, nothing will surprise me.

Cat!

P.S. After the 25th hearing in 3 days, i have to regretfully admit its not in the same class as Aditi. The lyrics dont make the cut.

P.P.S. Anyone here mad enough about that series to guess where that last Cat! came from? A cat that could have been named Micheal.

Milestones

Sometimes you have to look back to know how far you've come.

I came home today to a rearranged room. The "library" had moved in and the only occupied shelf in it was finally filled not with raincoats, not bills, not orphaned bits of clothing, but books. My books. Stuff that I had bought. Bought. Put a big smile upon my face. And i knew, the only person who would really understand that smile was me from 10 years ago. I wanted to go tell her, look, we did it! Just stood there for a while, drinking it all in. For the first time, i wanted a photograph on my blog. Something to say i was here. Did a quick scan and realized about half of them were SF. Of course at this stage of my addition, what surprised me was that half of them were not.

I just hope that somewhere, me at the fag end of my 30s is dancing with excitement, wishing she could come and tell me the same. Which would be really something, because now, where are the dreams?

Will my world ever come around?

My first time was an accident. A friend, her sister and me were supposed to go catch DCH. We met at the theater and found that the tickets had sold out. Now what? Black? I was too chicken to go approach them. My friend, on the other had, had moral or rather parental objections to deal with. (Remember times when the two were the same? Sigh. Simpler times.) But i really badly wanted to see the movie. So she approached them for me, got me a ticket and left. And that is how it came about. Me watching a movie by myself. It felt like such an adventure, i couldnt wait to do it again!

The second time the gang at my old office had decided to watch Catch me if you can. Work came up and I had to ditch at the last minute. They liked it a lot and told me what an idiot i'd been to miss it. So one fine Sunday i took myself to Inox to watch it. But this time, it wasnt fun. The novelty had worn off. Plus, life had a lot more people in it and i kept feeling sorry for myself at having to be there all alone.

That would have been the end of my solo movie watching career if life hadnt decided to go barren again. I really badly wanted to see Jab we met but couldnt find people to go with. By now i'm sure you know how this goes. But the difference was, this time i had a fantastic time! It helped that i liked the movie, it helped that by this time i'd discovered caramel popcorn, it helped that i was highly amused at having bought the last row last seat ticket, but it went beyond that. I felt complete, relieved, free. To unashamedly enjoy the movie, even the cheesiest parts. To laugh out loud. To get lost in the movie without being distracted by the people i'd come with. To cry. (yeah, i do that embarrassingly often. Dont even get Veer Zara anywhere close to me) But the best part? I didnt have to do the walk. The walk from the movie hall to the parking lot. That is a walk so pregnant that one moment is all it takes to give birth to an embarrassing silence. (did i just say that??) A good movie for me is something i live through. For those 3 hours, it is my world. And when we are walking back, i'm somewhere in between the two worlds. A little lost. What words do i use to describe that look, that silly joke or that meaningless gesture that spoke so much to me? We havent really been watching the same movie. Not all movies do that. Crap ones are easier to deal with. You trash the jokes, trash the songs, trash the story and why... there is your trusty two wheeler, your means of escape!

The latest one i did on my own? Dark Knight. This one i wanted to see by myself. Almost everyone i knew had already decided to like the movie and i didnt want to watch it with their expectations. (Coincidentally, Bhai happened to come to the same theater, same show with a friend for his fourth viewing of the movie. Given his strong views on people who watch movies by themselves, it is to his credit that he didnt refuse to recognize me!) The movie? Was OK. I spent the first half mostly obsessing over the popcorn i'd decided to abstain from. Gave in in the interval. Spent the second half alternating between feeling thirsty and guilty. Now tell me, would you have liked to watch it with me?

But will my world ever come around to thinking its okay? To watch a movie by myself. To eat in a restaurant by myself. To cycle to work. Climb trees. Play badminton at "my age". Be stupid. Just be myself, even if that means i dont fit right into the slot the world has created for me.

He's the dude

He was one of those dangerous people who are soft, squidgy and cowlike provided they have what they want. And because he had always had what he wanted, and had seemed easily pleased with it, it had never occurred to anybody that he was anything other than soft, squidgy and cowlike. You would have to push through a lot of soft squidgy bits in order to find a bit that didn't give when you pushed it. That was the bit that all the soft squidgy bits were there to protect.

Douglas Adams, in Dirk Gentlys Holistic Detective Agency

How does he do it? How does he look inside and come out with just the right words? And how come with words like squidy and cowlike, it is still so perfect?

Back to one liners

Bhai sniff Germany sob Higher Studies baaaaaaaaaaaawl.

With problems like these, who needs a life?

So a cat gets into my cupboard today morning. I am awake but trying my best not to make it official when it is discovered, so the details are a bit hazy. I can hear Mom requesting/scolding/threatening/poking it with a very long stick so it comes out. It, on the other hand, is just saying meaow.

Come out, you cat!
Meaow
What is it? Why wont you go? Shoooo!
Meaow
Yenna aachi idhuku? Yen poga maateingarudhu?
Meaow
Come on, i'm poking you with a stick!
Meeeeaow

Dad helpfully shouts out from the bathroom, asking her to give Hindi a shot. Everyone suspects the reason for the stubbornness but none of us wants it to be true. It is sitting on top of lot of my clothes, so the evidence no one wants to see can very easily be not seen. I finally make it official and go say hello to the guest. Dont even look at the stick. Someday i'm going to have to grow up. I can see myself not liking it.

And then we see them. A bunch of kiddie cats, all snug on what would really go well here is something really cool, preferably branded, but since i dont know any names leave alone own anything, lets stick to the truth? something i bought years ago and thankfully dont fit into now. Mom gives up the stick in frustration. She knows when she is beaten, but she doesnt have to like it.

Its happened to us before. More than once. On the terrace, under the stairs, deep inside the under-side of the bed. We've hosted generations of cats mommies. In fact, i bet this one said her meaow world from somewhere within this very place she has come back to call her own. Our house is probably one of those family secrets that are passed down from mother to daughter. Given all that hostory, is it really asking for too much to expect her to pick a spot slightly more conventient for everyone, whats a little discomfort between family friends?

After the initial apprehension, we decide to live and let live. Which is when Bhai brings up the rats. Its all good, i tell him, she may not have to leave the kiddies to go looking for food. But i hope she has been bought up to wash her hands after lunch. Tere kapde kis lie hain, he sniggers.

We set up a watch. The moment the mother leaves to get food, i raid the cupboard and gather enough stuff to last me for ten days. A minute is all it takes. That has to be the fastest i've ever decided on what i'm going to wear. Now as long as the rats have sense enough to stay away, i'm okay.

I can see this becoming one of those stories that every kid from now on is bought up on. One that teaches them about the dangers of un-closed cupboards. Its certainly going to live for ever in my family. But the moral i take off the story? Two, actually. One, dont put all your clothes in one cupboard. In fact, better not put them in any cupboard. Two, have too many clothes. You never know when a needy pregnant cat will come knocking on your cupboard.

Update: She and family left us for the neighbour's stair landing last night. I dont think we'll ever live down the shame.

Subeh ke sapne...

My phone is in silent mode. Which it never is.

It buzzes. Which it never does.

I hear it. Which i never do.

I look at the name on the screen. It says King Khan. Which it never does.

I answer. I hear that irritating Airtel voice that usually tells you to not waste any time in downloading completely "free" ringtones at Rs 6/min. It says - Befirkar rahiye! Is number se aapko call aa hi nahi sakta! [Followed by something that amounts to - so kindly go back to your loser life]. I let the message repeat a couple of times, just to make sure I'm hearing right.

And then the King answers. Only, the voice is yours. Which never happens.

And then I'm awake, a relieved grin on my face. Relieved because this wasn't the weirdest part of the night. No, there were dreams within dreams and when i woke up from one dream into another, i had to decide whether what had just happened was real or just a dream. And if it was real, OH MY DEAR GOD, i had to deal with it.
The grin because i know you wont be flattered.

Words

Its amazing and more than a little shameful how American Television, meaningless in itself, can add so much meaning to a weekend.

Its just plain shameful that all i can come up with these days are one liner posts.

And a little pathetic how i'm trying to make it look like this isnt one of those. Like how we used to fill up exam answer papers with words, hoping they add up to some meaning.

I'm trying to fool myself, knowing very well that i'm trying to fool myself. Does that make me honest or stupid?

Probably both.

Because I think its funny

I shall not code in Perl.

Oops.

All growed up

We, have arrived. We, got rid of a dead rat today. We, are now responsible adults.

Damn.

The long silence

Because sometimes, everything you want to say is unprintable.