I WANT..

1. To get out of the office right now.
2. To listen to something I can holler along with.
3. To meet a friend and walk around (someplace thats not a mall) when its windy.
4. Time to take photos when there's sunlight.
5. To have the guts to drive my scooter in Bangalore traffic.
6. To be single.
7. To be able to put two dots at the end of sentences and not have it called 'girlie'.
8. To have Lime soda with salt and sugar.
9. To sleep on anything that is not a mattress on a cold floor.
10. To watch a movie on my comp, sitting on the floor, leaning on the knees of whoever's behind me, in my hostel room in college, with the lights switched off and 13 pairs of chappals outside the door.
11. N and G to get married.
12. To eat green apples and lie on a couch reading.
13. Forever... now.
14. To talk to somebody who's actually heard (and liked ?) 'You were meant for me' by Jewel.
15. To read something I enjoy and yet have it count in the list of 'must-reads'.
16. To go home and taste my mom's chicken curry and appam.

Thats her...

 

I-gon..

Her name, they told me, was I-gon... She was a month old. All I could see was a brown furry bundle in a shoe box. Someone had torn out her eye and thrown her in a gunny bag on the road. She'd been picked up and taken to Krupa Animal Care.
I'd never held a puppy before and been scared of dogs forever...didn't even know why I'd volunteered for the Pet Adoption camp... didn't know anything about pets or adoption.. Being a whiner, I've always whined about not finding any 'meaning' in work and what I'm doing and all. So a volunteer programme sounded like the best way to test the waters for 'meaning' in doing something. I guess I was hoping to find something that would make sense to me, but honestly I had no clue what I'd do there or how I'd make myself useful.
She was the first puppy they brought out. I watched as some of the volunteers held and handled the pups like they'd been doing it all their lives.. I leaned over and watched with my hands tied behind my back (the perfect volunteer) as they put them in little baskets, tucked rugs around them, fed them and tied ribbons around their necks. I-gon, they told me wasn't running around coz she was dizzy and tired from the surgery and the medicines. Stroking a sleepy, tired, dizzy puppy didn't seem too dangerous a task and I decided I was up for it.. She was all curled up with her tiny tail brought around her to cover her nose...
Eventually people started coming in to look at the pups.. Somehow I-gon was returned pretty quick back to the hands that held her out and they'd move on to look at the other puppies.. Somebody handed her to me and seconds later she was sleeping in my lap and didn't seem to mind that nobody wanted to take her home coz she wasn't perfect enough... And thats when the picture started forming in my mind.. Sitting at home with a sleeping pup curled in my lap..
I called up my roomies and begged them to come take a look at her.. and then pushed my luck and wondered if WE could take her home.. Prompt refusals and reminders of my general carelessness and the impracticality of the whole idea were drilled into me in a matter of seconds.. Moped around the whole day coz I couldn't have her and nobody would take her home .. actually mostly because I couldn't have her.. All my promises to be a changed responsible adult fell on deaf ears.. They'd known me too long to believe I wouldn't get bored of something in a week...
Its amazing how an idea can get into your head and root itself there and then no matter how many times people tell you its not practical and that its not going to happen.. you still keep wanting it.. And I wanted it.. I wanted to take her home and I wanted it to not matter that nobody else wanted her coz of her eye... Stupid shallow dumb blind people... Nobody took her and the Camp was over.. Some of the pups had been adopted and the ones that were not were put back into the van to be taken back to the shelter..
Sometimes its really difficult to remember you're too grown up to cry over a puppy. And I don't care if that sounds silly or brainless or girlie or immature.. I don't care.. And now that I think about it, somebody told me a while back that if you want something badly enough, the whole world conspires to get it for you.. It was supposedly from 'The Alchemist' (which I haven't read) ..I guess I must have wanted her badly enough for fate to hand her over to me to keep her till she got properly adopted. The people from Krupa didn't want to take her back to the shelter after all that she'd been through. I alternated between laughing and grinning and promising that I'd take good care of her and asking them how I should do that.. Bread, diluted milk, biscuits.. newspapers on the floor.. water.. it all seemed simple..
Warned my roomies, caught an auto in the rain with a basket in my hand and a puppy sleeping inside and felt like a very lucky special person who'd just been granted a wish from a genie .... Got home and spent hours cleaning up after she'd messed the floor for fear my roomies would throw the two of us out... She's the sleepiest pup I've ever seen.. she'd wake up every now and then.. and we'd play with her.. She looked like one of those brown and white toy dogs that run and jump and roll over .. She'd chase anything you dangled in front of her nose.. No barking.. no sounds.. just running after things and climbing into the nearest available lap and curling up and falling asleep in a second... Nobody wanted to call her 'I-gon' .. even if we didn't get to keep her for more than a week.. We decided we were going to change her name.. For now she was'Puppy', 'Chakkumani', 'Kingini', 'Da', 'Di','Tutu' and an assortment of several other little squeaky noices...
She slept in the hall in her basket with newspapers over the whole floor and I put my bed a little away from her.. prayed she wouldn't wake up and pee on me and fell asleep planning toilet training lessons for her and wondering at how amazing it was that she'd been hurt so badly and yet she trusted us to take care of her and protect her while she fell asleep in our laps.. The fastest I'd ever fallen in love...
She was taken back for a visit to the vet the next day and adopted the day after that. Hadn't thought it'd be so soon. I'd hoped for atleast a week to watch her play and grow healthy and get toilet trained and run around and come to me when I called her.. I promised myself I'd keep visiting her and watch her grow up and she'd recognize me and I'd do it after I came back from my hols.. But I couldn't... coz she'd died. They explained that she'd been sick. Had an intestinal infection. I guess she's not a big loss to anybody. Just a puppy.. A one eyed puppy even sounds like a joke. So does a 21 year old female crying over a one eyed puppy she'd seen for a day..
I guess there's something funny about it, when you tell somebody (some of the more macho of my good friends) the puppy's dead, that makes them burst out laughing and then quickly stifle it.. Its funny I guess that I'd gone totally nuts about her overnight and then she'd died.. I guess Its funny that I make such a big deal over something thats of no significance to anybody.. Maybe there's something here I'm not seeing... But they're right in a way .. I'm not mourning her forever.. She wasn't a person.. She's not a big loss..
There's a picture in my mind I can't forget.. I hope I never do.. The night that I'd slept next to the newspapers spread out in the hall with a basket in the corner, I'd woken up at night with something pawing on my face and I opened my eyes to a furry one eyed monster that was looking at me.. Even before I gained my senses and lifted myself up onto my elbow.. there was a brown furry ball curled up by my chest burrowing her nose under her tail waiting for me to pull the blanket around us.. I know it doesn't make sense to get mushy .. Its not a big loss.. Its no big deal.. Just a puppy. 

Happening People in a Happening Place....

Sunday morning .. ok Sunday just before noon.. three people push off their underwear washing for sometime later.. and walk out to have lunch from some cheap place.. Fort Cochin.. sounds like home.. maybe there'll be Fish Fry.. its been forever since Fish Fry and Cochin.... So the place is shut down.. no probs.. we'll walk till we find some other cheap place... After half an hour of searching for cheap places in the heat.. we settle for mediocre (expensive when you're broke) place.. Spend another half an hour choosing the most economical dishes from the menu card... But its hard to resist descriptions of rich creamy sauces and sauteed mushrooms and grilled in red wine and that sort of crap... ok.. successfully stretched lunch for two hours.. now what? standing outside the restaurant looking at each other and then at the road and trying to think of a place to go to.. Anywhere other than Forum (on a weekend? No way!).. after another half hour of contemplation and giving directions to happening people in happening cars who need to go to happening places but don't know how to get there (aaargh!).. we walk to the nearest baskin robbins... and sit there trying to lick the ice cream as slow as possible so they don't throw us out... coz they have the luxury of a TV there... Channel? Very Happening.. 'Zee Cinema'.. Movie??? 'Saajan Chale Sasural'... Do we ask them to change the channel? Not when we're through with our ice creams and risk being thrown out.. Ok.. so we'll just sit here and watch Govinda manage two wives.. What??? Ok.. No probs... we can do this.. Ok.. one of us can't.. She's staring at us like we're nuts.. watching a Govinda movie at Baskin Robbins on a Sunday afternoon for lack of anything better to do... But looking at her is making me sleepy.. I look at the other one.. Oh, he doesn't care.. He's absorbed in Karishma calling up Tabu over the phone and saying, 'Divya behen.. Mujhe lagta hai Aapka pati Mera pati hai'!!! WHAAA???? Interesting.. Poor Karishma behen looks .. distraught? Not really.. I guess its not too much trauma to suspect you've got the same husband as 'Divya behen' .. So Tabu invites Karishma and her husband Govinda over to lunch (for which Tabu's Govinda hasn't turned up) and tells her that she'd dropped a candle on her husbands thigh the previous night so if they've got the same husband.. they've got to have the same thigh!!! Dont' ask me how but Karishma doesn't find the same thigh... (she drags him into a bedroom at somebody's house and takes off his pants).. Govinda leaves and returns in very very Govinda clothes as Tabu's guy.. strips.. shows a burnt thigh to everybody but Karishma who's finally covered her (perpetually wide open blue) eyes in typical Indian woman fashion and by then the two of us enjoying the movie are dragged out by the one who isn't.. Fine!!! where to? Shopping.. The girls agree.. the guy groans.. We pull him into the auto and put him in a corner of Fab India looking through magazines.. Two hours and we're done.. Once again.. no plan.. we're sitting there wondering where to head next.. Its felt like that all day.. the only time we've been smiling was probably inside an auto coz we're headed somewhere or moving without effort.. Ugh! Ok.. Lets go see a movie.. Which one? The only English one left to watch is probably 'Things to do before you're 30'.. Fine.. where's it playing? Closest place is PVR.. (gulp) Forum? Hmmmm.. Ok.. Whatever .. its for a movie.. not to 'Hang Out' and be part of the weekends-at-Forum gang. We're in an auto again!.. Yipppeeee.... 'Things to do before you're 30': sold out!! UGH!! Who on earth would want to watch THAT? What next? Back to alternating between moping around bored and looking at people walking by bored and looking at each other bored.. Now we're not even asking questions? Its all understood.. The question in a Raised eyebrow.. The answer in a shrug.. the consensus in a sigh.. Do we give up? Its almost evening.. The same movie is running at INOX.. All the way there for THAT movie?? Ok.. we've got nothing better to do.. In an auto again!!! And seriously by now we're all really happy in the auto.. talking and laughing about how its defenitely going to be Sold out at the INOX and sure enough after half an hour's traffic jam, haggling with the auto driver and going up all the escalators ... its sold out.. and no.. there are no other funny english movies.. Hmm.. REX? Ok.. We all know there's a Hindi movie playing there.. but we've come this far.. lets walk.. atleast we'll reach Brigade.. and then we can be part of the crowd that does weekends-at-Brigade.. :) Paani puri in front of Rex.. and then.. we're weekends-at-Barista... Are we going to order? Not yet.. No money... So lets just sit.. and.. ummm... talk? Thank God for glossy newspapers.. Three of us reading three copies of the same paper.. All these pictures of people wearing skimpy glittery clothes with coloured hair and glasses of something posing for pictures.. And there's all these comments about how what they're wearing went out of fashion two minutes back.. and WHAAA??? WHo cares? People who have nothing to do on a Sunday I guess.. Atleast we have something to talk about now... Its getting late.. we should probably get home coz there's not much money left to pay for the autos if they start charging double... But.. ummm.. we can't possibly leave without ordering anything.. we've been sitting there reading the paper for hours.... So we order.. Pay through our teeth.. and count out coins to make sure there's enough to get back home.. Walk to an ATM? Not today.. And by the time we're in the auto again... we're smiling.. Dont' ask me why.. Its been a nice day...

Books? Ummm.. Lets see..

Wanted to get a book for a friend yesterday. The problem with not being very well read is that you feel absolutely lost when you enter a bookstore.. The people walking in and out looked so sure about what they were looking for and what they'd bought. How do they know they're going to like it unless they've read it? What if you've bought a book.. take it home and got bored to death after the first few pages? What then? So whats the solution? Buying books that you've already read and liked? Anyways I guess it probably helps to read reviews and know the authors and the awards and accolades and all.. But when you don't do any of those, and you're trying to get a book for someone who probably does all that, then you're lost... as I was.. and had to ruin the 'gift' by calling him up and asking him what he wanted.. I got the regular load of 'No.. forget it.. don't want anything.. don't celebrate birthdays' dialogue but finally got him to admit he liked humour and something contemporary.. which didn't really help much.. and finally heard him say the word 'Booker Prize'.. Ah! that should make it simple.. So I asked him which of the Booker Prize books he'd read and went back to looking around the store for a 'Booker Prize' section.. which there wasn't.. and abandoned the idea to go and ask someone .. (that would blow my 'intellectual-on-comfortable-territory' look).. and decided to locate 'The God of Small Things'.. (the only Booker Prize winner I've ever read).. and there it was on the cover.. 'Winner of the Booker Prize'.. Ok.. so that made it simpler.. All I had to do was look through all the books and they'd have it written on the cover that they'd won something.. another hour of feeling like an idiot goes by.... and finally I called up a quizzer friend and asked him to name a bunch of Booker Prize winners.. (Thank God for quizzer friends).. and out came a long list from God knows when... and finally he suggested 'The Moor's Last Sigh'... Sulman Rushdie.. and I found the book! I did turn around to make sure it'd won the Booker and then confirmed the word 'funny' was there on the review.. and paid up and felt like I'd just worked through some complicated algebraic sum or something.. And then for the slightest second.. I wondered if I should do something about this.. If I should pick up a good book with a good review and start reading.. to catch up on all the reading the well read of the world my age would have read by now.. But I've never been able to read the 'must-reads'.. I don't know why.. I've tried.. A friend of mine sent me the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.. I tried reading it.. It was funny I guess.. but I kept falling asleep.. (distasteful.. I know).. couldn't help it.. All the rave reviews and the zillions of people who'd read it didn't make a difference.. It can't be psychological.. maybe it is..

For as long as I can remember, whenever I've been asked about a hobby, the first thing that comes to me is 'reading'.. but I stopped saying that a long time back..
I don't remember when this was, but I think somewhere in first grade, I remember looking forward to the 'Library' period... all the kids queing up in a line according to height and being led by the teacher to the library.. What did I read there? 'Noddy!!'.. They had a lot of those and some of the pages had pictures.. I used to think the author was 'Gnid Blyton' coz of the unfamiliar way 'E' was printed... I can't remember a thing about it now except that I did read them all ... And so when we learnt the word 'hobby', mine was reading.. As school life progressed, I decided to ditch Hardy Boys and Secret Seven because everybody was reading them.. We then had a new rule about being allowed to issue only classics from the library.. I started and finished with Jane Eyre.. Took me two weeks.. liked it a lot and quit going to the library. And then there was a Danielle Steele now and then.. a Sydney Sheldon that classmates passed around.. and then finally somebody gave me a Historical Romance.. (yes.. now is when you roll your eyes).. Chivalry, castles, battles, dukes, earls, lords, knights.. totally swept away an entire class of girls who were by then the 'Science' girls ..We were the 'Science' stream.. the girls with good grades on their way to pursue Engineering or Medicine .. the girls who looked down their noses at the 'Commerce' girls who were by then experts on what exact shade of eyeshadow went with what exact shade of blue contact lenses.. what was in and what was out.. and had no qualms about walking through the forbidden Boys' section of our school.. So while the Commerce girls went out and had a gala time with the guys, we sat and read Historical romances.. And NO! A historical romance is not just an ordinary romance.. There's all the chivalry and the castles and the battles and the titled heroes and the balls and the ballgowns and fluttering fans.. It was basically the same thing all the time.. Handsome titled hero is betrothed to wild unruly female with gorgeous bod who can't stand the guy or the norms of society (then).. They meet.. hate each other and then are over come by the usual hot desire, ecstasy, wild passion.. blah blah.. and happily ever after.. And that was the end of my 'reading'.. By the time I came to college, people were reading and discussing authors I'd never heard of.. and then staring at me open mouthed when I asked them about the 'must-reads'.. I couldn't possibly catch up on all the reading they'd been doing by then.. so I gave up.. I quit reading all together.. and now.. I can't even pick a book for a friend..
Resolution time???

My Surprise...

A perfectly normal dull day.. Hadn't bothered to shampoo my hair ( a usual attempt to create an illusion of volume).. Had a perfectly boring day at work.. Major fight with G over her mood swings.. made up.. treated myself to two glasses of 'Butter' fruit juice.. which is what they call Avocado in all the juice shops here... High point of the day I guess would have been when lady drinking nice Watermelon juice next to me started staring at the green gook in my glass and looked ready to puke.... M called and asked us to have dinner with him.. So there we were, looking around for the most economical thing to eat at Transit... but they don't let people eat left overs from previous diners' tables... (i think).. And all of a sudden my eyes are covered by two hands.. First thing through my mind.. perfume-- its a girl?.. then the hands lead to two hairy arms--girl who doesn't wax?... very thick hands tilted upward-- fat, tall girl who doesn't wax? Ever noticed how when you're blinded and trying to go through a list of all your fat tall girlfriends who don't wax, you give up real easy? So I did.. Turned around.. and there he was.. a familiar face that I almost didn't recognize because he was something I'd given up hope of ever seeing anytime in the future thanks to his busy schedules and lack of holidays and the 20 hours of travel it would take for him to put his hands around me and have me screaming and jumping and being dragged out of Transit by friends who were trying desperately to pretend they didn't know me.. I've always been a whiner.. and it almost depresses me that I can't whine about not getting any surprises.. I think surprises are the nicest things...The perfect gift.. You can't keep it on a shelf, put it between the pages of a book or frame it.. But you can put it in your head and think about it and smile wistfully everytime you're having an ordinary dull normal day...

So Unsure...

I've been wanting to do this forever.. tempted by the little 'Get your own Blog' button..
Finally.. I'm here.. and now.. ummm.. what?
Wrote a complete post and deleted it coz it felt like rubbish..
I feel overwhelmed coz I have no idea what I'm doing here or why I'm doing this..
Impulse.. Curiosity.. probably a couple more factors which will make me sound like a complete idiot.... Getting all worked up about writing a blog..
The thing is.. ummm.. probably lack of confidence.. but then admitting that is probably unfashionable.. but then since 'fashionable' is there on my list of things-that-i'm-not, I guess its all ok.. And the lack of confidence .. that comes from reading too many impressive blogs and the gnawing feeling that this is sure to turn out not-so-impressive... Why? Because I put too many dots between my sentences.... because I'm rambling most of the time.. I have no abstract poetry, no awesome photos that I took myself, no great ideas to share, no beliefs to declare, no comments on IIPM, no amazing vocabulary to flourish my writing with.. Which brings me back to why I'm doing this.. besides the temptation of the 'Get your own Blog' button.. I don't know.
Used to wonder why people wrote blogs.. Why'd they write down their innermost thoughts and then put them up on the internet for random people to read and judge and comment on... But then there's always the comfort of anonymity.. (forced anonymity if the blog turns out like this)..
And then there's the fact that not many of my innermost thoughts are criminal in nature.. atleast not to a very dangerous level... (ignoring tendency for slight bits of evil..)... so I guess its all ok.. Anyways.. here goes..