Random Musings

.. as the burglar said to the old lady as he placed her on the fire. But it’s a new month, and time for a new look to the site, don’t you think? You don’t? Well, that’s sad, but only expected, since you never did agree with anyone, did you now? I, however, am more easily persuaded, and have decided to change it.

So change it is. The site is new, and while the chirping birds over your head may be newer, at least it’s not likely to leave a token of gratitude upon your head, eh?

If you are wondering what has gotten into me, worry not, all will be explained in due course of time. Of course, due course of time is a vague allusion to the fullness of time, and since we are talking of time, let’s not forget the vagaries of time, or even the ravages. Tides and time and no man and what not, hmm?

I will write about multiple commas, and pet food and cats. Why pet food and cats? Well, there are two little puppies that are living on my doorstep. And I do mean my doorstep. When I open the door in the morning, they are there, fatly (and flatly) refusing to move. I step carefully over them, and go perform a hard day’s labor ( which mostly involves playing games ), and when I return, they are still there. The only difference, to the naked eye at least, is that they seem to be fatter! Since they don’t seem to move, one can only assume that they are somehow drawing sustenance out of the granite doorstep. Nay, not sustenance. They’re getting fatter, so they must be gobbling it down.. Perhaps soon I shall step out and see nothing but a big hole where that faithful stone used to be. Alas, poor stone, I knew it well. Why cats? Well, why NOT cats, I ask you!

It’s also funny how there are so many Hot Chips stores here. I’m not kidding, that’s what they are called. They seem to breed in narrow lanes, somewhat like dysentery. Hmm, I wonder what the causal relationship is here. These shops sell, appropriately, hot chips. Of various sorts. Nothing wrong with that, right? Sure, but when you have three of them within a lame dog’s walk to pee, and all on the same side of the road, like empty cabs when you stand on the other side, something is not right. Perhaps these shops are merely fronts for more sinister and nefarious activities. They might be Bangalore’s hangout for the local version of the Yakuza, or the Mafia, or the KKK, or even the Lion’s Club. Perhaps, if you ask for just the right combination of hot chips, the portly man behind the griddle (who looks quite like the vegetable the chips are derived from, if a trifle darker) will drop one eyelid in a salacious (well, maybe not salacious, maybe just a knowing) wink, and motion you inside with the long spoon.

You’d hop inside, not so much as to meet the mob, but more to escape the hot drops of oil dripping from the spoon that hissingy announce their imminent intention to leave a more permanent reminder of your Bangalore visit than mere dysentery. Inside, past what seems to be a bead curtain, till you look closely and realize that these are withered old potatoes (or at least, you hope that’s what they are), lies a mysterious room.

In many respects a perfectly ordinary room, what makes it mysterious is the air of mystery that permeates it. Coupled as it is with more noisome airs, you choke and quickly cover your nose to keep the mystery out. This seems to be a tested and approved method of standing, since no one there threatens to disembowel you. Of course, this might be aided by the rivers of tears streaming down everyones faces, since the more prosaic use of the room is as a storeroom for chilli powder.

The leader clears his throat, sounding more like a sputtering diesel engine running on cheap kerosene fuel, spits out copious quantities of last night’s tipple into the corner, and commences thusly :

“Fellow Chippians. We are gathered here today, not to bury chips, but to praise them. United in our breasts by the common cause of chippery, and shocked by the rapidly increasing menace of Coffee Day Outlets, we have vowed to fight the scourge tooth and nail, to the last drop of boiling oil..”, here, he breaks off for an almighty sneeze, which has the unfortunate effect of sending his dentures flying across the room and hitting a torpid chippian in the head. This worthy fellow wakes up with a start, and feeling that something is expected of him, jumps up and lets loose with a loud cry of “Hear! Hear”. As he notices everyone glaring at him, he sheepishly sits down again and quietly hands the false choppers back.

“AHEM”.

Random

To keep up the good start to 08, I decided to head home to Jaipur to fly kites on the 14th of Jan. I’ve not missed a single Sankranti in eighteen years, so I didn’t want this year to be the one. I informed my boss of my plans, and had him look crosswise at me.

I could almost see him thinking, “Just why do we have this guy working for us, again? I’m tempted to kick him out..” But he decided to be magnanimous, and told me to go forth, and cut some kites. Of course, I had to work very very hard in the preceding week to make up for my absence, but that was a minor blip. So post hard work, on Friday, the 11th, I flew to Delhi. Why Delhi? Delhi is cheaper to fly to. Must be something to do with all that Punjabi bling.. lights up the city and makes the approach for landing easier.

So there I was, only two hours late. The next day was fruitfully spent being a girl. No, I didn’t cross dress, I went to a mall with two friends of mine. I’m not much of a mall rat (at all) but hey, what the heck, it was fun. This is a big new mall in Delhi, called the City Mall, or Sigma Mall, or the Something Mall. Bah, whatever. It’s in Saket, and has all the cool (read expensive) brands there. Fcuk, Guess, Tommy, blah blah blah.

So after wandering about for an hour or two, I made plans for the evening and headed home.

All this was merely the prelude to the next day, the 13th. We (sis-in-law and I) were supposed to be driving down to Jpr at 7 AM. So naturally, we started at 3 PM. Drove like a maniac all the way, and got home at 8 PM.

M’verygoodpal Mehta was supposed to be leaving for the ol’ US of A on the 16th. Except he wasn’t. He’d misread the ticket (of course, trust Mehta), and found out at the eleventh hour that he’s leaving at the thirteenth hour! Well, not that drastic, but it entailed him frantically packing at 2 AM on the night of the 13th, and leaving on the morning of the 14th. So I landed up at his house at 10 PM, to laugh at him and generally bug him. Having done this successfully for five hours, and having made sure he’d probably forgotten half the things he was taking back for his bevy of beauties, I left at 3 AM.

Home by 3:10, in bed by 3:30 AM…

and UP at 8 AM, ready to hit the roof!

As I rushed up the stairs, I was hoping against hope that it would not be a disappointing day. You know, either rainy, or not windy or too windy, or windy in the wrong direction.. that kind of thing.

But never fear, the Universe works in good ways when you fly two thousand kilometers to fly kites. It was a PERFECT day. Sunny, and bright, and just windy enough. I flew a couple of kites from my house, and then headed to Ranbir Mamosa’s place, which is where I generally end up spending Sankranti.

Picture perfect blue skies, gentle breeze. The first hour or so, my kill rate was quite low, since I’d not flown a kite for a year. I was averaging only two kites cut per kite I flew. A quickly gobbled lunch helped me calm my nerves, and I returned to the roof full of steely resolve. And hell yeah! I’d found my touch again. After that, kites were fluttering down, but not mine, oh no, no sireee.. I started off by cutting 12 with one, dipped a bit to 9, and then brought it back up to about 12-15 per kite. Ripped through two kites at once, went far far away and hunted down the high flying ones, cleared a suitable volume of sky. So what if my hand was covered with blood? Blood I can afford to lose!

Two o’clock to six o’clock passed by in the manner preferred by kite-flying aficionados. Tr, dude, you missed a good Sankranti. But fear not, good pal, I flew one kite for you, and just like that time at Shobhit’s house, it went very very far, and cut very many kites. So you were there in spirit, and I’m sure that though you might be halfway across the world, you heard a faint echo of “Kaata!” somewhere in the night.

A very satisfying day came to an end, and I returned home. Bone weary, but with a big grin on my face and my fingers ripped up. I have no idea where I’ll be on the 14th of January 2009, but 14th Jan 2008 will definitely be remembered for a long time to come.

So that was my trip to Jaipur. And now I’m back here, working hard, and trying to figure out how to pay for all this profligate traveling that I’ve been doing On the other hand, even if I have to sell stuff, it was totally worth it. No doubts on that score whatsoever.

Random

Why? Ah, just to grab your attention. Ignore it.

Ah, smell that? You don’t? Take a deep breath. Still nothing? That’s the smell of 2008 wafting through the air. It’s a new year, and here we all are, doing what we’ve been doing for so many years; a whole lot of nothing much.

I haven’t written for ages and ages, and that’s because I was traveling about, and then was too lazy to write. Last week of December I was in Bombay, where my friends stay in a lovely flat. Sadly, the lovely stops just where the words “no internet” come in. Nah nah, Arun, don’t get pissed, I really liked your flat, but you gotta admit, no net?? Dude!

Funny story about my going to Bombay, by the by. I was supposed to be flying in on Friday, the 28th, had my tickets booked and everything. On Christmas Eve, however, I was in office till 1 AM. Hark the Herald Angels Sing? Hardly! Peering at Adobe Indesign and looking for errors. So then I was walking home at night, all grumpy and irritable. Just as I crossed a bunch of drunken youths, the phone rang. No, it wasn’t the youths trying to pull my leg, it was a friend of mine from Bombay.

So anyway, I complained about my life and everything, and how I was going to get bored for the next two days, since the magazine had been put to rest. And then my friend asked me why I didn’t just come to Bombay the next morning. Of course, I laughed and pooh-poohed the idea. But she asked me for a good reason. And the best I could come up with was that my clothes were all at the laundry. When I heard myself saying that, I felt even sadder, and felt that my life now revolved around laundry??!!

No, said I. This is not how it’s going to be. This is not where it’s at! So at 3 AM I call up SpiceJet, and get my ticket brought forward to 9 AM. Of course, I could not sleep then, since I would have slept right through the flight, so I stayed up.

8 AM, and it’s time to leave. So naturally, I change into my travel clothes. What are these? My best suit. No, don’t looked shocked, there was actually a very good reason. I needed to take my suit since the New Year party apparently had a dress code, and my small airbag could not take the suit. So I wore it. And let me tell you, guys in a nice suit get treated nicely! Especially by the air hostesses (or stewardesses, or flight attendants, or whatever the heck is politically nowadays).

It gets better.

Bangalore airport is naturally quite crowded at 8:30 AM. I was also very very tired. So I was wandering around the concourse, looking for a place to sit. I saw an empty chair, and asked the girl sitting next to it if it was taken. When she replied in the negative, I sat down, took out a book, and started reading.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw this girl staring at me. I was wondering whether I had forgotten to wipe the soap off my ears or something. Still, I was ignoring it as best as I could. And then her phone rang, and she picked it up and started to talk about Jodhpur, and Law School. She put the phone down, and I actually looked at her – and she’s my junior from law school..

She had great trouble recognizing me. This was apparently due to the fact that I looked like a long-haired lout in law school, and now that I was all suited up, and had a neat haircut, I look, in her words, “sober and responsible”. Makes me wonder what people thought about me when I had really long hair!!

Anyway, she happened to be going to Bombay on the same flight, so we had a nice conversation, and I caught up with all that was happening in college.

Anyway, Bombay was great fun. Arun, Tillu and I hung out like we used to college, and had a good time. We went out almost every night and had a blast!

New Year’s was not that great, but that was only my own fault. We went to a nice place, but for some reason, I was not in the best of moods. Oh well, New Year ‘08 is not going to be like this. Mehta and I have decided that.

Bombay was also nice because I got to hang out with my sister Ria. We went around all over Bandra and ate lots of food. We also partied with Nasiruddin Shah, and hung out with him. Heh, look at me, dropping names all over the place. Simply smashing, it was, daahlings.

And then I returned to Bangalore, determined to make a better start of 2008. So far, it’s been pretty damn good. I’ve been home to fly kites, and had a stunningly perfect Sankranti. I’ve also found a place to play basketball, which is great, and many thanks to you who told me about it. You know who you are. Many, many thanks, infact

Half the month is over, and I am also very broke. Tax is the new four letter word in my vocabulary. Ah, the days when I was earning in dollars was really nice.. No tax! I ought to quit and go back to that. But then, office is great fun, and I have a good time there, so let’s keep this going for a bit, what say?

Ok, now I really have to go to bed, so I’m going to be writing more later. Or I might not. Or I might, and not publish it. Or .. oh bloody hell, we shall see what we see when we see it! SLAM!

Random