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July 30, 2008

Smack my bitch up. Please.

Or, Chaos, serendipity and reflection

Pondering: What’s the longest that pubic hair can grow to? Can’t Google-it in the library, dont want the admin to think I am surfing porn. Sad.

Learnt: Too much reflection will never get the work done. I reflect all the time. It’s inversely proportional to word count dished out.

Felt patriotic when: One, Shashi Tharoor was being interviewed on an Aussie news channel and despite never having any particular fondness for him, felt an immense sense of pleasure seeing him up there. However, he didn’t sound too convincing when explaining why India is not a willing party to cutting her carbon emission rates in ways that would make the US and Australian governments happy. And the world a better place. Presumably, since no one wants to guarantee that.

Two, on discovering a Karsh Kale track when uploading Windows Vista on new laptop. The tabla is divine! Three, when teaching how to say “up your mother’s” in Hindi to two Sri Lankan chicks. One of them should soon be saying “thik hai” too.


Inspired: By Aussie lad-mag called Vice, had a picture of a 35-something mother, holding a rifle with a 6-year-old boy suckling on her right nipple. Also some pictures of bums, the photographer felt that since everyone shoots face-pictures, he needed to do something about it. Poorly executed idea, nice bums though. Guess no one minds the execution then. I am going to shoot bums too.
Realised: Relationships can be a pain in the arse. You are forever doing something wrong. Or forever looking for something wrong. Perhaps some of us like some pain in the arse. Or are plain stupid. Have you ever had the feeling that if there is nothing wrong (or nothing going wrong) in your life, it could mean there’s something really sinister happening somewhere? And that it will hit you in the face when you least expect it to?
Confession: I am really angtsy today, have been so all day. I could be missing the Delhi chaos. Maybe. The daily fights with autorickshaw drivers for one. Here everything is mechanical. Punch preference, put money in, get on with it. No humans. Most things are very efficient, so much so they can be boring. Like all my glassware is intact. No maid to rush through washing dishes who would break them. Funny that the song playing on the laptop right now – of the five songs I could download before the Internet died at home – is Ironic (Alanis Morisette).
There are fond memories associated with the song.
First year of college, N and me going to participate in the intracollege annual festival at the Indian Institute of Technology (IIT) Delhi. The fest is called Rendezvous. She participating in the western music competition and me in the on-the-spot story writing one. She sang an acoustic version of Ironic. I wrote “I am a bitch but I didn’t want it to end this way”. It won the first prize. Shrug. College did not publish it in the college mag, they wanted stories on feminism, not psychopathic killers. N never made it to the western music society and I pulled out of the creative writing one.
That was also the time both of us would while away time at the bus stop outside college concocting imaginary stories about what-would-life-be-when-we-grow-up. I was only 19 then, ten bloody years AGO. Where? When? How? What the fuck happened? She was the only one who said that of the 22 girls in class, I would be the first to get married but it would end in a divorce. I had scoffed at being the first to marry. (Smiles) She is married today, I am not. Fortunately or not so, I’ve always been quick at undoing mistakes. Or running from them.
Right now, thanks to all the author names that people throw around, sitting amongst other “writers” seems like a BIG mistake. “Have you read Umberto Eco?” Er, yes, but put down Focault’s Pendulum after page-four because it made no sense to me. My best friend though has read most of his work... but she is into management now. Ironic?
I also want to fight, kick, scream, lunge, lash, hit out. Writing requires sitting in one place. And reflecting. I can do that, perhaps. But what about action? There’s no chaos here. I miss chaos.
I miss home.
PS: Dont think Golu would like it here, he wouldn’t be able to run around freely.
PS2: I think I saw Tinkuji in the market today...

7 comments:

Mamma mia! Me a mamma? said...

The Delhi chaos will be just as you left it when you get back...if not worse! I understand these feelings of homesickness you are going through, but all I can say is...cheer up! You'll have fun sooner than you know it!

As for your subjects of contemplation...enh, whatever works for you! I thought I was weird with the big toe and all!

ray said...

Hi ,

I was reading ur blog posts and found some of them to be wow.. u write well.. Why don't you popularize it more.. ur posts on ur blog ‘Emancipation of Eve’ took my particular attention as some of them are interesting topics of mine too;

BTW I help out some ex-IIMA guys who with another batch mate run www.rambhai.com where you can post links to your most loved blog-posts. Rambhai was the chaiwala at IIMA and it is a site where users can themselves share links to blog posts etc and other can find and vote on them. The best make it to the homepage!

This way you can reach out to rambhai readers some of whom could become your ardent fans.. who knows.. :)

Cheers,

Maxine said...

Karsh Kale is awesome.But cant listen to,continuously.

Glad there are still some out there who can inspire you.Start with shooting Tinkuji's bum perhaps?
It might also help you see the 'pain in the arse' of other people.I still have to issue a blogger alert.

Relax.Getting back to chaos is only a decision away.For the time being maybe someone can send a voice recording of the traffic OR hey..how bout a video game where we can blast off an autodriver on the screen with some heavy bad words.The stronger the gaalis the higher the score.

Takecare pubic hair ponderer.

Anonymous said...

i walked in here after eons and well !
full on ! google ads galore i can barely recoganise this place ! Whatever happenned to writing for yourself ?

anyhow i sent your breasts the best of my love !
ciao ! :)

"The Boy you named Farhan"

Eve* aka JB said...

Mamma ---> :) I bet it will be the same, though guess there will be the metro in full swing and perhaps done up stadia what with the deadline of the commonwealth games coming closer. I miss delhi, though must say that life here only gets more interesting each day. Meeting people from all over in like getting a real time, real life geography lesson!
WRT subjects of contemplation, it was thanks to a weird dream i had, which thanks to sensitivities involved, cannot be mentioned here!! ;)
thanks for your time and for reading!

Ray --> Hi, havent seen you here before. Thankyou for the kind words; given that some find this blog disjointed and others think its shit, kind words are always welcome. will check out rambhai.

Maxine ---> Oh One With Good Advice, will definitely ask Tikuji to let me shoot his bum, first let me see if it was really him or my poor eyesight! As for getting back to chaos, going by past experiences and the sheer nature of me -- chaos-seeker, impatient and other flaws -- am sure chaos will find me, sooner or later. just hope i can handle it since i am sort of out of my depth here in melbourne. for one, i dont have a job. think that might be whats really bothering me. lets see. i LIKE that idea, perhaps should suggest that to some of the gam
e developers i am studying with here! "pubic hair ponderer" ...bwaahahaha...but i did ask for that one. *grin*

Boy Mis-named Farhan --> what brought you back? wrt ads, those didnt pay when i started and those dont pay now. As for the breasts, you were always at least a table's length away from them. how go the multiple women in your life and do you currently have some anonymous blog somewhere that bitches out those you know? being scathing comes naturally to you...should write...

fabio said...

hey JB!!
so glad the issue of Vice
I showed you has been an inspiration for you!
...and yeah! you can definitely shoot my ass!

mad said...

Hi. Thanks for the shoutout!