Rambles

I'm 28. But I feel like I'm 27. 

I've missed the boat. And that bus has sailed away. 

Today in the park a man was having a conversation. With himself. 

Plan B

Every morning my husband takes out two shirts from his closet. He probably already knows which one he will be wearing to work that day, but somehow he finds comfort in having a backup plan. 

And unfailingly, every morning he asks me for my opinion. Some days he takes my advice and other days he disregards it. Last week, annoyed at the futility of this daily routine, I sniggered, "Why didn't you have a Plan B when you were picking wives?" Deadpan, he replied, "What makes you think I didn't?"

I laughed, because frankly, I know I'm his Plan A. Hands down. But for a while there I started thinking about backup plans. There are probably some... few... many scenarios in life where we are somebody's Plan B:

A friend makes a movie plan but his sister backs out last minute - he calls you. 

A friend plans a road trip and her buddy got the flu - there you are again. 

An employer got rejected by their first choice - guess what, it's your lucky day!

A guy asks you out to dinner because the girl he fancies himself in love with is "washing her hair" (or whatever excuse hot girls use in the 21st century). 

The list is endless, it's just that we are not accustomed to thinking about ourselves as "good, but not good enough."

So if you ask me, the fun is in being the best goddamned Plan B in any of these aforementioned situations. Making all these people question their "first preference", their "opening batsman", their "You don't have Chocolate? I'll have Vanilla."

The point is, Vanilla is classy. Virat Kohli is sensational. 

And you are all of the above.  

a truth universally acknowledged

The mere touch of certain words can turn paper into parchment.
Words like vale, gallant, perchance.
"Perchance a gallant knight rode along the vale?"
I'm sure that is in some book some where. A parchmentback.

Some words can transport you to very specific times in your life - past or future.
Say bistro and I think of freshly brewed coffee at a cobblestone cafe.
Say white makhan and I think of hot paranthas, fresh out of the tandoor at my Nani's house.
Say cheese omelette and I think of the person who taught me to make it over ten years ago.

Some days - no matter what words you say - are just not your days.

But just for today, I am Elizabeth Bennett.
Turning paper to parchment.

lego

little drops of water dangling from electrical wires
tentative
like diamonds on a leather string
threatening to fall to the ground and shatter into a million pieces

there are no take-backs in life, no undo button
but the bright side is, there are no take-backs for good things either
anything good you do for someone, is also something they are stuck with
just like the grudge they hold against you, the baggage they carry in your name
the happy memories also float above their heads in a cloud

oh, and another thing
i'm uncleavable
i'm unbelievable

waves

The image on my workstation.
Courtesy: http://theinkpot.in

I am armed with a quill. I need someone to lend me ink.

Today I was thinking about similes. Well, not in general. In particular. I wanted to say "bleeding like a...", and couldn't think of the end of that sentence.
And then it hit me, there's no other way to say it but "bleeding like a Tarantino movie."
*
When facing a serious bout of low self-esteem, lack of confidence, and doubt, I just ask myself one question.
What would Don Draper do?
*
Who's a friend?
Someone who is by your side, even when you show your worst side.
*
Do I really want to move to Goa to write a book? Or can I do it from my little corner in the rest of the world?
*
What would Don Draper do?

tea sir?

today i saw a little sea horse in my tea cup.
okay, so it was an oolong leaf that folded itself into a tiny sea horse.
a sea horse that yawned at being dunked in water, stretched its arms lazily, and swam along with the stirrer.
and then it grazed the lip of the cup in an attempt to whisper something in my ear.
but he couldn't breathe, so he dove back in.
i guess the secret wasn't worth it.

random list of happy things

 
Not having anything on your mind

5 minutes of complete silence during the day

Families that accept you as you are - good and bad (especially the bad)

Space

Khow suey

Not biting your nails

Recognizing Urdu alphabets on street name signboards

Panorama shots

Speaking to someone over the phone and imagining what they look like
(Facebook has ruined that)

Beautiful buildings

Short hair

The Wedding Filmer


Lanterns in old shops

Girls who look beautiful without makeup

Practicality

Partiality (when it's towards you)

Last names spelled in different ways (Chaudhry, Chaudhuri, Chowdhury)

Blue Lays

Flowers in Delhi roundabouts

Open air restaurants

Old cinema halls

Rain in February

Nanis and Dadis who speak impeccable English and drink whisky

Family businesses

Gay friends and relatives

Families that accept you as you are - straight or gay




Depauls sugar free cold coffee

Conspiracy theories

PhDs

Seasonal specials in restaurants

Down to earth artists

Short hair

English=Hindi words:
bazar
kismet
avatar
karma

Palmistry

Pairs of socks that get softer as they get older
(Socks in general, actually)

Old movies

Nimbu-mirchi

Paperman

embracing the truth

I hate hugs.
I didn't always hate hugs. In fact I used to love them, as a kid. I hugged everyone and everything.
But a few years back (five, to be precise), I really started hating hugs. I am super uncomfortable hugging people. Unless I am related to them by blood (or marriage!) or am just generally fond of them.
If it were up to me, I'd stick to expression of affection through handshakes.

I like handshakes.
I didn't always like handshakes.
Just kidding.

Elevator Pitch

A salesperson in my office was speaking to a client and said, "This is Smeeta speaking from HT."
The person at the other end didn't understand so she said, "HT. HT! H for Hitler, T for Testosterone."

Good luck getting business out of them, Smeeta.

Old McDonald

Things my husband has said in the last 3 minutes:

1. I'm gonna raise this issue with Ronald McDonald
2. I feel like throwing a stone at McDonald's
3. This is against human rights

His lower lip quivered and I can swear his eyes shone with unshed tears.
I am not kidding, he looked shocked and betrayed. He went silent for a whole minute until the guy taking the order said, "Yes Sir, I'm sure. Shake Shake Fries have been discontinued."

Sing one we know.

He is a singer.
Actually, no.
He is a 3-time Grammy award-winning singer.
He is the only Indian performer ever at a Pavarotti and Friends concert.
He has been on the cover of Rolling Stone. Twice.
His first ever single was #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 for 14 weeks in a row. He donated his entire earning from that album to Greenpeace.
And then he sang a song about it.
He has been pursued by A.R. Rahman  for a song for the last 11 years. But he has declined politely because he has been 'busy with other stuff'.
Actually, no.
My husband is a singer because he believes he is a singer.

hawa ban ke

I was at HyperCity yesterday, and ahead of me in the aisle was a little kid, strolling his cart with his mom. The 3-foot-nothing thief kept picking up things from the shelves and slyly tossed them in the cart. After 2 packs of Oreos and a box of Choco Pie, his mom looked straight ahead and said with a deadpan expression, "Karan, none of that is going home with us." His look of feigned innocence gave him away and his mom broke into a smile. And Karan got his way.

*

Ireland.
One country I've always dreamt of going to. One country I always dream of going to.

I knocked over my Oral B floss yesterday. At the base it read "Made in Ireland". And suddenly - just for a flash - I was in Ireland. And I loved it. I haven't bothered to straighten the floss to a vertical position. It doesn't matter that it doesn't fit among my other perfectly organized set of toiletries. I just like to see the 'make'. So that I can be reminded of things I must do, places I must see... and the person I must be.

*

When I was in college, I used to be able to relate to so many songs. So many songs that felt like they'd been sung just for me.

Lately... there's no such song.
Okay, so maybe there's one such song.

*

This evening I looked at the plants in my balcony and said, "I hope - for your sake and mine - that it rains."

And it did. It finally did.

keep it together

It is a rainy day like no other.

Because it is the first real rain. And along with the scorching heat and tired auras, the rain washes away everything that is negative and impure. At least for me.

Baggage is not necessarily a bad thing. As long as you know the distance you have to carry it for. After that you just gotta leave it unattended. Or unload it and unpack it with something who'd care to help out.

Long ago, I put up a request on my blog for someone to send me a notebook to write in. And a couple of people took my address too. But I never received a notebook. I waited everyday for a courier to arrive at the office with a pretty notebook in it (or even one of those old Bittoo notebooks I grew up doing my homework in).

But it never came.

So, tired of waiting, I ordered a notebook for myself. Not the garish-covered, smelly-papered, cost-effective, warm-hearted Bittoo though. No. I ordered a sleek black-covered, bright-papered, expensive and slightly formal notebook from Rubberband. The tagline of the brand is rather a fit in my life right now.

And the idea is to keep that notebook on my side table. Write in it, if I can. And if I can't, it will lie right next to me as a constant reminder of what I need to do.

Day 6: Truth and poetry

"Maan jaaiye
Varna
Waqt manvaayega."
-an amateur poet called Dhruv

*

My grandfather always taught me that while reciting Urdu - or any - poetry, one must be careful of the pronouns. One must always remember to say 'aap' or at most 'tum', never 'tu'. One must revere the subject of one's poetry, respect oneself, and be courteous to the listener. Thus the formal version of 'you'.

Of course there are songs which cannot do without the casual 'tu'. Imagine the song from Roja being called "Aap hi re.. Aapke bina main kaise jiyun."

Day 5: What's the zoke?

There once was a man from Punjab
Ohda koi nahi si jawaab
He wasn't very fussy
As long as he got lassi
That 'healthy' young man from Punjab

Day 4: Treachery

Cursory hugs
Unforseeable distances
Irreparable kinks
Hiatuses
Forced smiles
Polite laughs
Interested nods
Gaps
*
There are some friends who listen to everything you don't say.
And then they start hearing what you do.
*
What if your life-raft is an upstream swim away? Shouldn't you just go with the flow?

Day 3: Magic

"How do you like my manicure?" she asked, making small talk.
He glanced distractedly at her nails, knowing what to expect. Every month she got an expensive french manicure, and every month it looked exactly the same. Yet every month she asked him the same question. As though she needed his approval. A nod of his head, or a "Looks good".

He was about to give the same answer he gave every month but something caught his eye. She still had the same french tips, but the base of her nails had a layer of glitter. His head spun a little as the thought crossed his head: 'it looks like the stars from the entire universe have come down to dance on your fingertips'.
He gave a crisp nod and said, "Looks good."

Day 2: Bundle

Snappy
Bitchy
Angry
Insulting
Funny
Warm
Sarcastic
Smug
Condescending
Grumpy
Moody
Stubborn
Friendly
Cheerful
Smart
Caring
Loyal
Gossipy
Tiresome
Tireless

Richa Pandey: my bundle of disguised affection.

Day 1: Baggage

Hattori Hanzo's final sword, given to Beatrix Kiddo

To me, the sound of a knife slicing the air always sounds like a Hanzo sword coming out of its sheath. It is the sound of preparation and the sound of courage. To cut whatever you encounter on your journey. It is also the sound of films - all the films that I love. Starting right at the top: Kill Bill. I remember the exact place I was standing in the back lawns when my friend Anirudh asked me to watch the film that would forever change the way I viewed films.

I remember downloading Part 1 & 2, only to realize that they were both parts of Vol. 1, as opposed to two separate volumes of the series. So after I finished watching Vol. 1, I wanted to watch Vol. 2 right away. Of course it was the middle of the night, and downloading took up the rest of the night - it was one whole day until I could watch the ultimate volume of the series. It was an endless wait, but it was worth it.


I think so many of the films you love are a matter of timing. The time in your life when you watch a film is imperative to how it impacts you. That's why there are movies you don't care much for until you watch them again. Because it is a different time in your life. You are a different person with a different set of experiences. The movie hasn't changed, you have.

Kill Bill is a film about history. Beatrix Kiddo's history, and mine.