25 Random Facts About Yours Truly!

Yup I am joining the bandwagon. And doing the 25 list thingie! And that too, by my own volition. (I can see some of you shaking your head with a look that says 'I always knew this girl was mad') . Why subject myself to this, you ask? Well simply coz this is sort of like a Meme and being a meme-virgin (Batting eyelids, blushing face) I am a little excited about it. Maybe it's also coz I am a slighly-narcissistic blogger and I do love talking about myself. More than anything, it's because I have a feeling that I am going to surprise myself. So bear with me and read on please. Pretty please?

1. I am the quintessential jack of all trades. I can play 7 instruments- Guitar, Harmonica, Tabla, Harmonium, Tanpura, Drums and Bongo. But none with any spectacular degree of proficiency. I can speak 6 languages- Hindi, English, Bengali, Punjabi, Gujarati & Italian. But only two of those with a high degree of proficiency. I have dabbled in Kathak, Salsa and Jive, but am an expert in none of those. You get the Picture, don't you?
2. Something that I get from my mom is a penchant for making lists and plans. Things to do lists, timetables and longterm timelines: I specialise in Weight-loss plans and personal finances management plans. What I dont specialise in, sadly, is following any of the stuff that I plan. Half a talent is such a waste!
3. I love the sight of painted pretty nails. Days when I get my nails done, I can't stop waving them around like a prima donna. I am told it can get pretty irritating for everyone else.
4. I have had milk straight out of a cow, with the whole awkward-position-head-bent-and-squirt-aimed-at-my-mouth. The milk tasted good, the experience was wierd and the fact is something I am secretly proud of. Well, not so so secretly anymore, but still proud.
5. I am a feminist of sorts. Not your bra-burning-morcha-holding types. But the type who can tell when things are unfair and will do something about it. I refuse to settle for a half-life simply because I am of the female species. And I get frustrated with people who expect me to.
6. I love it when the wind blows through my hair and flicks strands of my hair on my face. It's the single thing that can make me feel pretty, no matter any amount of zits, blackheads or any other other gunk that might be vacationing on my face.
7. I get very amazed and sometimes frustrated with people who refuse to live their life king size and in the moment. It's one life people. Just one. All the more reason to live it up!!
8. There's nothing more comforting than an over-used and over-washed t-shirt. I have saved plenty from annihilation at the hands of my mom and will continue to do so till my very last breath. Much to her frustration.
9. I dream of living a life where the money is enough and the lifestyle lets me be spontaneous and impulsive. I am told that's a freelancer's life. Methinks a rich heiress' life works much better.
10. I am a praise-junkie. I thrive on the simple concept of work and reward. Consequently, I expect to be praised even for doing my job satisfactorily. It's a bad habit, I know.
11. While growing up, there is nothing I wanted more than a Dog. And now that am all grown up, there's nothing I value and want more than my freedom and independence. Between the two, my parents had a much easier time dealing with my wish for a dog!
12. When I was 5, I announced to the family that I was leaving home (following a fight) and promptly walked out. It lasted all of 10 mins, before dad caught up with me and carried me back. I waited 12 years before I tried that stunt again. And this time the family came to drop me all the way!
13. I think the single most important thing about life is all the people you meet and especially the ones that you love. And it me amazes how rich my life has been in that regard so far.
14. Nothing petrifies me more than labor pain!
15. I was a vegetarian for 12 years of my life. I decided on it when I was 8 (after a very revealing trip to the butcher's) and stuck to it all the way till I came to Singapore. Now, I eat 'Everything'.
16. There are some songs that always make me smile, no matter what my mood. 'Kiss me' by six pence none the richer is one of them. 'Free falling' by Tom petty is another.
17. There are days when I worry that my time will run out before I can do all that I want to do. That I might be wasting my time on mundane things like holding a job, buying a house etc. There are other days when my worries don't run so deep. On those days I mostly obssess about my weight, my hair, my face. Oh and world peace. Definitely world peace!
18. I love weddings. I love dancing on the streets at weddings. I love the dolling up that happens at weddings. The songs, the colors, the ceremonies, the people, the food. I simply love being a part of weddings, as long as (and here's the catch) it's not mine.
19. The single experience that I most want to have with all of my heart is to live by myself in a place of my own in Bombay. I also know that it is the one thing I will never have.
20. During moments of plain evil mixed with pure genius, I have thought of naming my future children- Katori Devi and Hukumchand, if they don't behave themselves (Read as: If they cry too much and wake me up in the middle of the night). Thankfully these moments almost always pass.
21. I am a complete romantic and mush-pot at heart. I drool at the idea of surprises, offbeat-bent-knee-proposals, thoughtful gifts out of the blue, beachside weddings. And yet I think flowers and chocolates are over-rated. And cliched too!
22. I love food and I have very eclectic and specific cravings. Usually these revolve around (And am sure you haven't heard of some of these)- Funflips, Bonny mix, Nutties, Fatafat, Haldiram's Nutcrackers, Panipuri, Tibbs Frankie, Raju Chinese, Pav Bhaji, China-Valley-Sweet-Corn-Chicken-Soup, Bombay Sandwich. The list goes on. And on.
23. I can lose myself entirely in a book or a movie. And when I say entirely, I mean that it would take a hurricane (or even a bowl-ful of water thrown at me, as has worked in the past) to get me to come back to the now. Nothing milder would work. It's like my brain switches tracks and puts on blinkers.
24. I was in love with Michael Jackson when I was 11. I had a poster of him on my wall, that I would wish good night to, before going to bed. I consider this the single most embarassing thing I have ever done! Thankfully, now that place has been usurped by the very-yum-and-edible Kunal kapoor. And even more thankfully, without the ritualistic 'good-nights'!
25. Bombay, Delhi, Bangkok are my favourite cities in the world. I think New york has the potential to be added to that list, even though I haven't been there yet. I really really hope to some day soon.

I could fill another 20 more points on this list easily. But then it is supposed to be only 25 points, no?

Where do the children play?

Every thing's as usual. I'm sitting in office freezing and cursing the AC vent, as usual. The Killers are crooning through my headphones as I tap away at my keyboard, very much as usual. When the day is done, I will feel the usual gladness as I shut down my laptop. I will feel my ears popping as I go down 41 floors in the elevator, as usual. I will walk past swanky shoe and dress shops all advertising christmas sales, on my way to the MRT, quite as usual. I will stare blankly at my reflection on the platform doors at the station waiting for the train and then I will fight my way into the train and nod to the music on my headphones as I head on home- All very very usual. My life is going on as usual and nothing seems different. 

Yet something is. Different. I can feel it.

I can feel it every time I call home- In the insecurity in my mom's voice, in everything she tells me and even more in everything that she doesn't. I feel it every time google desktop pops up a news article on Bombay, that it thinks I may be interested in, and it always tells repeatedly of the carnage that happened. I feel it in the way voices become solemn and thoughtful anytime friendly conversation veers towards the B-word. There is something different and in a wrong way. Different about Bombay, different about me.

There is so much I should want to say, so much I should want to shout out, but I can't. Some part of me has stopped feeling, stopped caring. I look at the whole thing with a shrug. I have given up- on Bombay, on India, on any othr part of this world. I am giving up on ever feeling secure anywhere again. I am doing what Bombay-ites have been so praised for doing. I am walking on. And I'm not proud of it.

The Others

Reading about Raj Thackeray's (& MNS's) issue with north Indians in Bombay, I was saddened and shocked. I was also reminded of a movie I had seen quite some time back called 'The Others'. In the movie, Nicole Kidman, who lives with her two kids, starts to feel the presence of 'others' in her house and gets very irked about it. She frets, she shouts, she expresses her anger, only to realise at the end of the movie that it is she who is the 'other', the spirit that has been living there beyond its time, the spirit that doesn’t have sole right over the house and hence has no right to ask anyone to leave. It’s quite obvious why I was reminded of the story and the parallels I am drawing.

Bombay is a great city. Perhaps even the greatest. And what makes it so, is exactly what makes New York the navel of the world. Bombay is a melting pot, a paradox, a ‘Khichdi’. And it’s always been proud about that.

Or atleast the Bombay I grew up in.

The Bombay I grew up in was about differences, about having a certain attitude. In that Bombay it did not matter who you were, where you came from or what you did, as long as you had a dream and you could keep with the pace. That Bombay was about accepting; about holding out a hand from an overcrowded train to help a running stranger get in, without asking who he was or where he was from. That Bombay was about adjusting; about squeezing into a train seat to fit 7 where 4 were meant to sit. That Bombay took in everyone who came to its stations and airports from near and far, and became the richer for it.

The Bombay I grew up in was where a kid would attend a college run by a Sindhi Trust, eat Indian Chinese food made by a Raju (who was most probably a migrant from UP or Bihar), rush to classes run by an Aggarwal, ride in a taxi driven by a yadav, Cheer at a cricket match played by Tendulkar or Dravid, lap up movies acted in by a Khan and aspire to work in companies owned by an Ambani. That Bombay was Joshi, Patel, Subramaniam, Shah, Bansal, Aggarwal, Yadav, Fernandes, Singh and many others. It was Straight, Gay, bi-sexual, deviant and devout. It was stinking rich, upstart wealthy, nobly middle-class, and roadside-poor. It was desi, urban, and American-confused. The Bombay I grew up in was the Bombay that had a place for everyone.

And that Bombay belongs to no one. Not to me, not to you, not to the Marathis, not to the Gujaratis and definitely not to hooligan Politicians. It belongs to anyone and everyone who has ever lived in it, dreamed in it and carried a piece of it in their hearts. And we all belong to that Bombay. We all make it what it is. We all love it for what it represents. And we all want to keep it the way it is.

So Mr. Thackeray, like it or not, I am a Bombay-ite. And I don’t need to speak any one language, wear any particular clothing, celebrate any specific festivals or have a specific surname to call myself that. I just need to love the city and uphold everything that is great about it.

Perhaps you should ask yourself, how Bombay-ite are you? You might just find, it’s you who are the ‘other’ that doesn’t understand what Bombay is about; the ‘other’ that should stop creating a nuisance!

Currently Reading: Big book of crafts
Currently Listening: Forever- Papa Roach, Disturbia (Acoustic)- Boyce Avenue

PS- Yes- Bombay, not Mumbai!
PS2- See 'The Others' if you haven't already. though I've probably ruined the movie for you, giving away the twist and all. But still.

Of writer's block, biting dogs and dying genes...

I have been staring at this screen for the last one hour and using the delete button more than I ever have. It's simply never happened before. Words never fail me. I usually have a million things to say and the words always flow through.

Not today.

I have a million things swimming in my head right now but the words just refuse to form. Maybe it's because I dont have one or two things to say. As I said, I have a million things. I am rambling now. Another first.

So well, This post won't be the most brilliant thing ever. It's ok. I'll live. I'll settle for mediocrity, just this once.

The last few months have been quite something. If 2007 deserved a eulogy, the last 3 months deserve hymns and epics written about them. I quit my job (finally!), took a month and a half long break before joining a job that pays more than just my rent (well it still doesnt pay for a Gucci or a Louis Vuitton bag. But I never really wanted one of those, now did I?). During that one-month-and-a-half break, I went back to Mumbai (to meet mommy and daddy dearest), managed a trip to Goa (albeit with my family, yet again), flew down to Newcastle and galavanted the british lands before finally coming back to the roost. And what a return it was. 1 week into the new job and I was travelling fulltime. First to KL (I stayed in the Ritz-initialized-pillows-royal-bathrooms-amazing-beds-carlton) and then to Bangkok. Infact as I write this, I am sitting by a wondow in a hotel room, looking out at the night lights of Bangkok. Yup, I'm living a consultants life baby!

But it wasn't all as rosy as I make it sound (coloring things pink has always been my knack). My first day in Mumbai, I got attacked by a dog (No, I did not provoke him. I prefer the version that the dog was simply retarded). Obviously that meant I had to get injections (4 of them, yes sire!). The very next day, I jammed my pinkie in a cupboard door followed by slipping in a mucky muddy mumbai-sabzi-mandi the day after. And then somehow I managed to get Sun-burnt in Mumbai. Yes, you heard that right. Me, of the indian skin and stubborn resistance to the sun, got sunburnt. And that too in Mumbai. Oh but it doesn't stop there (I wish it did). Nursing a sunburn, I made my way to Goa, laughing it all off as a freaky co-incidence. So much for optimism. In goa, as I was clicking away to glory, some crazy random lady bumped into me and knocked my camera out of my hand. The result was a broken camera. (repairing it dented my pocket by a whole 200 dollars). I returned to Mumbai with a broken camera and a broken heart (my beloved camera!) and the very night developed a severe allergic cold, to the point that I was rendered unable to speak. (Don't ask me the mechanics of that). I guess after all of that, I don't find 'Just my Luck' (yes I did see that movie) so far-fetched now.

But the more worrisome thing was what happened afterwards. The moment I left India and reached Dubai and then eventually Newcastle, I was fine. No biting dogs, No disabling allergies, No random mishaps, Nothing. And that worries me. Coz the inevitable may finally be happening. My india-compatibility gene is dying from under-use. And that, is a scary thought! Coz it also means bye-bye roadside pani puri and chaat, bye-bye sweat tempered pav bhaji, bye-bye dust seasoned bombay sandwiches. In short, bye-bye India living.

Ok, Now I am panicking! Come back gene, I miss u, I need u!

Currently Reading: Bridge of Rama (Ramayana Series)- Ashok K banker
Currently Listening- Can I stay- Ray Lamontagne, 9 crimes- Damien Rice, This years love- David Grey, Love Hurts- Incubus