Sunday, March 28, 2010

thinking is not a healthy thing or is it?

Sometimes in life, you simply have to take what you get. The option to demand everything you ever wanted is not available to you all the time is it? IS IT? I don't know what it is that you sometimes find yourself at a juncture where you look back and say, shit I made a huge mistake with this one! I hate that you are in that crossroad sometimes in life. Pathetic right?

I think I'm at that place, I think. I'm not sure what my choices are at this point in time in life. I do know that from here forward I do not have the luxury of demanding everything and the sun from life. I want to, god knows I do, but I know I can't. If I do, and if I get everything, will I like it? I don't know. I don't have everything I want and I can still say I'm happy with what I have.


Friday, March 26, 2010


I want an answer to this - why is it that something you really really want is always out of reach when you really really want it?

That being said I'm not going to dwell on that question any longer. I'm going to ramble on about things that make no sense to me. As always, nothing makes sense to me. I've discovered something, when I don't like a person, I'm pretty obvious about it. I don't talk, make faces and am generally rude. Well, being rude is like second nature to me actually, one of my most outstanding behavioural tendencies is rudeness. I cannot bring myself to fake a liking I don't have, especially, and I mean ESPECIALLY, if I have nothing to gain or lose from their acquaintance. That makes me a bitch right? I don't care!

I've tried so many times to just chill and let it be, but I've realised that if I'm uncomfortable being me, then what's the point?



Wednesday, March 24, 2010

The one sentence diss

I hate certain things and I'm going to use this blog to say so

Today's diss

- Justin Bieber should be annulled from the humanosphere (and a dictionary update. I'm cool!).

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Sh's dictionary

Word invented today
burdagiri - using adjectives indiscriminately in copy

Monday, March 22, 2010


Dictionary update
post-geriatric - means way way waaay past the time you should be alive! Eg, MF Hussian.

The end!

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Buplic transport

Well, I like travelling by public transport. Except that the buses I have to take are super crowded. Not specifically ONLY the buses I travel on. The routes I take are incidentally overcrowded! So, to make a point, I like travelling by public transport, at one point in time my favourite used to be buses, but then I discovered trains while doing my masters at Mad Uni. But Saturday afternoon, after around 3 years, I was back at Anna Square bus stop, at a familiar time of day waiting for 25G, my nemesis! It's an idiot bus. It goes from Anna Square (which is opposite Uni) all the way to Poonamallee, which is at the other end of town!!!This is a scene from the "modern" 25G. The bus has automatic doors and automatic ticket machine and all that jazz . Good fun to travel on considering that I spend 1/10th of the amount I would if I were to go by auto.

And this is one of many views from the bus. Yes, I love looking out of windows!

Friday, March 19, 2010

Being weird Pt 2

I gots plenty things to tell about my's! Plenty things! The second of my distinguishing traits is lefthandedness. You know in Medras they call it pichaankai (I REFUSE to elaborate that!) or to be less crude lottaikai.

Why is it odd to be a leftie you think. Dude, it is. Because you can't light the lam p for pooja with left hand, because God will get upset - uh, God made me leftie, s/he has lost the right, therefore, to be offended. Yeah, we're luckier and "creativer" and so on, but we're still unusual. Oddly enough, there were always more than two left-handers in my class in school and in college and my PG Diploma and my MA. Not sure why. But this is what I remember the most about being left-handed, the question - ey, you're left had aa?

Macha, you're either blind or you have spatial orientation issues in life. If I'm writing notes with my left hand, can only mean one thing, I'm left-handed. Why ask? Why is it so unusual to question something as silly as which hand you write with?

It's not a big deal or anything, but I find you right-handers weird too! So there!

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Sh's dictionary

Word of the day - post-alcoholitis AKA a hangover
I'm resurrecting my dictionary where I post words I've invented in one of my moments of pure clarity induced by morbid boredom.


Sunday, March 14, 2010

Being weird Pt 1

Sunday afternoon. My favourite blogging time. I've just had the most smack-worthy lunch - rice, curd and vadu maanga. I love that combination. It's simple. It's tasty and I feel good after eating it. A couple of things came up today that I thought were interesting. Things about myself of course :)

Being vegetarian in my family is one of those things that will leave you feeling like a circus freak show. You have no idea! When I was around two and just beginning to eat more 'interesting' things that my mother discovered that I threw up every time I ate meat. Well, chicken to be more specific. That's the version I know anyway. After much thought and debate - small aside, my folks are very privacy uncaring, if somethings happened then it is everyone's business - I was taken to my pediatrician to see if there was a problem. Never occurred to the folks to just stop giving me meat, no had to take me to a doc and figure out the problem. Up until then, I was not known to reject food. I was a nice, fat, gundu baby! My USP as a baby was eating, rejecting food? oh the horror! Definitely a point to ponder!

So, my doc tells the family that I could be allergic to meat and there I was vegetarian by natural selection, probably one of the very few in the world! But since then, food at home has been a ride through hell an back. See, my family, I love them to pieces but still, is the kind that is loud, verbose, involved and food-loving! Sunday lunches, before people got married and moved countries on work, etc, were big huge affairs. My grandmother, my mother,my mother's brother and 2 sisters and my grandfather would be busy deciding the menu, go buy fish or whatever it is that you non-vegetarian people eat and cook.

The house on those Sundays smelt like rotting garbage. I hated that at the end of the gargantuan task that was cleaning, cutting and cooking dead stuff people ate it. The smell hung around in the air. Your hands smelled from cutting and cleaning and you sat down and ate it like it was God's own hand involved in the making of that food. But this is why I hate non-vegetarian food, I never got anything to eat. I mean it. When we were ready to sit down and eat, my mother and everyone else got this sheepish look on their faces that said, we forgot. My grandfather was all upset that no one remembered. Someone always said, if only she ate the food we did, it'd be easier. Yeah, some deep-rooted angst right there!

But, things got really uncomfortable. For some strange reason, this country, which is touted oas some vegetarian Hindu exoticland, does not serve vegetarian food with a lot of conviction. My mother told me that if I didn't eat eggs or chicken gravy or even biriyani rice, I would have a hard time adjusting. So this is me, vegetarian, eats eggs, can deal with chicken/mutton gravy and chicken/mutton biriyani rice. It's amazing how food habits define you no?

Saturday, March 13, 2010


Alcohol really does make you sit up and take notice of the crap that is your stupidity. Tonight is a huge case in point.

Whatever I guess. Men, alcohol (too much of it) is a combination that is not worth my time or anyone elses. The fact that I'm in the misdt of stupidity is pissing off. The fact that people think I'm fair game just because I talk is fuckall.

Whatever man. Tonight was more about being un-drunk than it was about social networking!


Friday, March 12, 2010

Live from the newsroom

On a Friday evening, I'm at my most frazzled. However, today is a relatively free day. Why? Because the supplement I'm handling this month goes to print on alternate Wednesdays. Which leaves Friday free for me. But then, I'm the kind of lunatic that goes staring mad if I'm sitting in the middle of a lot of drama with nothing to do! So, I offered to proofread pages of the neighbourhoods. So here I am, in the thick of page-making. Education Times - 4 pages, Ok'd! Times of Purasai - 4 pages, ok'd! In waiting for Times of Anna Nagar and Times of Tambaram.

Why am I giving work updates? I have no idea. Just felt like it. The thing is, my desk does not feel like something from a newspaper office. We sit in the basement of our building. The main paper sits on the second floor. Far, far away. We can't even ask them for help because they don't know who we are and vice versa. 'Tis sad really. It would have been nice to have a nice information-sharing work relationship. But then, who gives a damn, come appraisal time and everything is pretty much individualistic no?

Bleh. Blogging from work is not half as cool as blogging from home.

I'm going to Blend, my hangout, tonight. I hope to get good and buzzed. Not drinking and puking tonight. I'm going to behave myself.


Body piercing

You know, I was 18 when in the throes of the heights of teenage angst and rebellion I chose to get my nose pierced on a college trip to Goa. We were roaming the scarily empty strrets of tourist Goa when we found a place that offered to pierce our noses. My friend Seema (well, best friend actually) and I walked in and asked what to do so he sold us gold wire for some Rs100 and we walked across the road and told the jeweller, who for the record looked shady as whatnot. He sharpened the wire and the next few seconds I honestly don't want to re-live! Next thing I know, I had a wire going through my left nostril and I was in pain. A few weeks (or months? not sure) later my nose was infected and I had to cut the wire off. End of rebellion. My mother thought I was nuts. My dad had nothing to say as usual. My brother thought I looked like the help!

That was 2003, fast forward to 2010, I'm a journalist now, have some semblance of intelligence and common sense. Suddenly last week, the new girl in the team suggested that we go get our noses pierced. My boss, ever the enthu cutlet for such schemes said lets. Me, I was like I got my nose pierced seven years ago, why not now? So, I agreed. I said, make the plan, fix a time and I'll be there! :-D So, after much procrastinating, my boss suddenly walks out of her cabin this afternoon and says, who wants to get their nose pierced, let's go to GRT. After much conniving to convince the unconvinced, Shivani, AK (the boss) and I went to GRT jewellers.

@ GRT - Teensy back story. Ak, my boss, called the PR person for this jeweller. Don't ask why, I guess she thought we'd get preferential treatment! So, turns out that the person who could have helped us was at the other branch, so we just skipped that route and told the staffers here we needed to get our noses pierced.

Helpful old man took us through the whole routine. First stop, the nose stud/ring section - 3rd floor. There, for another vague reason, the three of us got identical red-stone nose studs. Second stop - token counter to pay Rs20 each to get our noses pierced. Third stop - the achaari.

The achaari with whom AK was busily building a rapport with, went for lunch. Which left us with this tough-looking guy who I was a little scared of. By the time we decided to elbow our way into the queue, the three of us were having the jitters and whatnot. So, AK goes first. I told her on the way to the jeweller that she would be, she was spending way too much time freaking out and way too much time analysing, so I said, you go first boss, we will follow. Shivani went next and then me. My nose is still hurting. My mother thinks I look like the help, my brother says it looks nice, my dad didn't react.

As for me and my colleagues - love love love it! I think it looks awesome and I finally like my nose! :P

Here's a picture :D

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Murphy's Laws

It's the people you trust the most, the ones you like the most who have the power to hurt you the most. It's like the world is one big conundrum of Murphy's Laws. Everything is binary, everything is some form of thesis-antithesis situation. Doesn't that make life predictable? I mean, one moment you're hugging the stuffing out of one person, the next thing you know, you're hating on them. Then you go back to hugging and then back to hating. If this is ups and downs and the excitement of life and the "every day is different" thing then its a big lie. I don't buy it.

I'm in mode whine again. Will definitely take me a while to get out of it. Until then, I will refrain from posting long posts.


Wednesday, March 10, 2010

3 sentences

I think this, whatever it is, is not going to pass. This is a feeling of inane-ness that seems to have consumed me lately. I dislike it way too much for my own good.



Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Post-event and ranting

God but the summer and humidity is catching up with this city. I'm going insane. 3 months of no sun, cool breezes and clear skin and all of that is shot to piece thanks to what could possibly be the longest summer in the history of the universe. The end!

Now, moving on. Narratives of my life that form part of the basic fabric of this blog. If you were in Chennai on Sunday and weren't at go:Madras, then I'm sorry for your troubles in life but you missed something. Really sorry. I'm not into electronic music per se, but Sunday was (for the lack of a better word) electric! It was. My friends and I reached there at 4, in time to watch Kini play. Kini was just plain awesome alright. The way she fused some Indian elements to the music and managed to get people dancing at 4 in the roasting evening is beyond me, but she did and that my friends is awesome.

That's that, now to the end of this post, I'm broke and have to manage living the rest of this month on Rs2,000. I'm shifting professions to begging - that way, I'll get a daily wage!


P.S: Women's Day - is nonsense. Nothing happened yesterday that made me feel special or better about being a woman. I get that feeling every single time I talk to a man, the male half the the human species can be remarkably idiotic! Yeah, I'm a man hater, you bums haven't given me one single reason to love you. You're not nice. You don't believe in bathing and smelling good. You don't shop for clothes. You don't like shoes. You don't believe in the power of chocolate. You're nicer to other people at the cost of being nice to me. So there, happy women's day to you!

Saturday, March 6, 2010


  • I really enjoy singing. I find that the joy you get after singing your favourits song well. No tuneless nonsense, but a good 'rendition' (sorry, I just couldn't resist!!!). It's not something I'm very public about, but I like singing and I have a good voice, yeah I do!
  • I adore temper tantrums. I do.
  • I don't ever lose my cool, when I do, it takes forever for me to calm down. Not that I'm a danger to anyone's national security, but I dislike being in an unpleasant state of mind.
  • High heels make me drool. I'm tall-ish, but hell, high heels are a whole different level of sexy when you're tall ;)
  • Writing is what I should be doing full-time, and I am. I can't believe that I'm writing stories and that people are reading my by-lines in the paper. It's surreal and cool all at once. I like!
  • I'm fast becoming a the-world-can-go-to-hell type. I was never that person, but something's changed.
  • When I have nothing to do in office, I go a little insane. I cannot imagine twiddling my thumbs at work. It bothers me. At home, nothing is a stae of mind and being.
I'm a lazy ass. Proof of this lies in the fact that I'm too lazy to post in sentences and thoughts in a more personal, paragraphy format...


Friday, March 5, 2010

Templates and things

Ok, I have a new template. I'm not sure how it all works yet, some links are there and accomplish nothing. I'm going to have to figure that shit out before I lose my mind worrying over it!

Now, purpose of this post. I'm angry. I'm not sure why, but something has seriously pissed me off and it bothers me that I can't tell you why. I mean, you have to have a reason for things to happen right? Right? I have none for mine.

Part of my temper loss is also the fact that I cant put my finger on the exact nature of my problem. I think it is because of the shit tank that is the human ego. I've had to come face-to-face with it so often lately that I want to tell everyone to go and die some place. Just collectively end it so I can live in peace! Selfish I know, but the thing is that someone is thinking the exact same thing about me too. So, that sorts that out. I hope!

I read a blog post recently, and that seriously disturbed me. I follow this person's blog and I love what he has to say. The insight and the clarity that I read in his posts keep me going back to read more. But after this particular post, I find that I'm forced to think about things. Things that you know you won't ever tell anyone, but things that exist. They are tangible and real, for you at least. The trouble is, you can't tell what it is. I know that in Chennai, I don't have the luxury of going to a doctor's office alone and wait in the room where people are wondering if I'm insane or if I'm pregnant or some thing worse. I can't handle that kind of mental, internal paranoia. Unfortunately for me, I'm not engineered to cope with a gaze that is acutely speculative and that will infer information about me that is too far off the mark.

That being said, there have been days when I've wondered if I could go on. This happened very pronouncedly at two instances in my life, once when I was in Delhi at IIMC and once when I was doing my masters at Madras University. Both times, I lived in the dark, didn't step out of my room until I had to, went back, couldn't bring myself to do anything but curl up in a ball and wonder why I was where I was. I was forced to step out and socialise because I needed to get my degree, which I barely managed and I left Delhi. Somehow, after an entire term of living like that, the only thing on my mind was to get out of my hostel room and go to a place where the walls I was inside were not around me. And then, university.

The two years of my life doing my masters were hell, pure and simple. I was in a relationship that I thought was perfect. I spent a lot of 6ams of that relationship crying into the phone. I can't remember why. After that went down the toilet, my ex and now friend exchanged a plethora of niceties, I stopped. Just stopped. I did nothing most days, just the bare minimum. Slept a lot, ate. Skipped class. The same darkness and the same purposeless moving of day to day ness. My mother found out that I was sitting at home an entire month and she was mad as hell. The first argument she came up with, not what's happening with you, not I hope everything is alright, just what will you do when you get married. This, ladies and gentleman, is an educated woman who now runs a school. After that delightful conversation, I went back to class. Not sure why, but I did. I hated the place. Hated the shit they were passing off as an education. Hated that I had to deal with lower grades while a bunch of people who couldn't speak/read English very well were topping class, getting university ranks and the like. These beauties of humanity would go out and buy guides with set answers that they would all write word for word. While my friend and I discussed at length about the things that we read and so on. I don't value my masters degree in the least, it is just a qualification I own that makes me seem important!

After that, it was another 6 months of do nothing until I found a job. But man, I sometimes wonder how I made it. I wonder why I didn't succumb to life and the unbearale heaviness of being (sorry Milan Kundera) like my best friend Bhuvaneshwari did. Sometimes I'm glad I didn't, but there are days when the delayed reaction syndrome hits me and I wonder why I'm still around...


Tuesday, March 2, 2010


In a day that is eerily beginning to look like the rest of my life, I have to talk about how monotonous my life is suddenly becoming. Or should I? Think of this ok, I wake up, read the paper, eat breakfast, bathe, dress, go to work, work, lunch, a few coffees (purely because I don't have the time to tell people in the office pantry to bother with a cup of black tea), back home. A few texts to friends, a few minutes' worth of G-chat conversations add to the spice of my day.

All this apart, nothing more really. Could it be that this is because I'm single. No boyfriend to talk to, bitch about, bitch to and so on? I don't think so. If that is the case, then you're probably not good at reading a book in a corner with a packet of chips! Ok, maybe the last three sentences contradicted themselves, but I'm a loner, always have been, so this is not about being alone and my finding it odd. But hell, monotony bothers me. I don't living like some suburbia, Stepford version of myself! I don't have three children and a mortgage and a shit-hole job that kills me every day!


Being at the Attukal Pongala

Yeah, if you were busy reading the Indian newspapers then you'd know what I was talking about.

So the Pongala itself. I HAD SO MUCH SMOKE IN MY LUNGS!!! I haven't gotten that much tox in, even after passive smoking. :P

Day 1 - Friday, February 26
Reached Trivandrum at 8pm. Shared flight with Prabha Yesudas (wife of legendary Yesudas) and Manoj K Jayan (ex-husband of Urvasi the actress). Slept a little past midnight after an evening spent getting halwa (or aluva as it is known in Kerala :P).

Day 2 - Saturday, February 27
Awake of 4am. Dressed to leave to the Attukal Temple at 4.45. After much delay on the part of my cousin, reached the temple at 7am. Was in the queue until 9am at which point of time I thought I was going to get crushed to death despite the fact that I was taller and hence a lot more capable of elbowing people with a lot more authority. Managed a fleeting darshan of devi. Got partially strangled on my way out of the temple. Never, I mean never, has sunshine been as welcome or as uplifting as the second I stepped out of the temple. We went to Arya Nivas then, ate perfectly crisp masala dosa and the best lime juice in the country (Trivandrum lime juice, or Bonju [I have no clue why it is called that!] is the best in the whole friggin' world. no arguments shall be entertained, or suggestions so there!). I then went to Karalkada. As a self-respecting, of-Trivandrum-origin, Malayali woman my mundu sets are from Karalkada. I spent around Rs9,000 there. Now, I have no money in the bank! :( I then went to Vellayani, where my uncle's wife's home is to get things sorted for the Pongala. From removing the stones and wholegrain from the rice, to tying up bundles of fuel for the stoves, to breaking the mollases, to well everything...

Day 3- Sunday, February 28
At a very distant relative's house in Manacaud, which is really close to Attukal at 4am - dressed and waiting. After an wakefulness-inducing cup of tea, my aunt and I went and "caught place" in the compound where we could make the stoves and make our Pongala. Around 10am, after 6 hours of reaching the place, we were ready, water was filled in every pot, and the little offering for Ganapati made (this was the point where my mother chipped in with - "even if the pongala is for someone else, you have to make ganapati happy firtst!"). At around 10.15, the flame from the main temple reached our street and after a chant of the "Sarva mangala mangalye..." thingum we were ready to go!!! After god knows how much smoke in my system and my eyes tearing up like no one else's business my rice was boiling and the payasam was on its way to being made. After which it was breakfast and a quick nap and lunch and waiting until 3.30pm for the priest to come and splash the payasam with teerth (that I believe the women outside the temple complex got via helicopter) and our offering was considered legit! Then we waited until 6 to go home.

I could tell you everything that happened at the Pongala itself. But the entire thing is an experience you need to go through personally.

A few observations though:

  • As women, our sense of contempt for each other and our sense of community with each other is both strong and non-existent in equal parts.
  • Attukal bhagavathy is actually Kannagi of Silapadikaram. She who burned Madurai down after being scorned for believing in the truth. So is, Erattakulangara devi (my family deity). This would make me Tamil by ethnicity/history?
  • Pilgrimage is not for me. The thought of experiencing the highs of bhakti while having my clothes practically torn off of me by my fellow women is a little off-putting.
  • I'm a total temple person, especially when the temple is quiet.
  • At the end of the day. I can go where I want to. I can be what I want to. I am malayali underneath all my English and all my bluster. Although, I could do without the excess coconut oil.
  • In Kerala, vegetarianism is considered a problem of grievous concern. My family took me to my pediatrician to check if I was alright after I started throwing up all the meat that my mother was feeding me!
  • Making a point in a bulleted, listed format is easier for me and it only means I'm too lazy to rabble-iciously rabble :)