Pondicherry. (I believe i am revisiting my past and putting silent ghost-forms to rest. There was Goa last year, and Coorg as well.)
Our journey to the town was disastrous. Do NOT travel by Red Bus. EVER. The service is terrible. Hell on wheels. Death Proof reminiscent - it's like only the driver was safe in his seat, the rest of us were as vulnerable as insects on the highway. They delayed the bus by two hours, then put 60 of us in a rickety six-wheeler, sent us 20 kilometres out of the city to board the bus, caused another half hour of confusion and made us stand on the highway like w****s waiting for truck drivers to pick us up. It was humiliating, infuriating and above all, disgusting. I'm planning to take them to Consumer Court. Or whatever Court it is that will hear me out.
We reached The French Villa at 7 the next morning, all worn out by the drive. Freshened up, ate a hearty Continental breakfast with well-done eggs, toast, butter, jam and fresh fruit. Had another fiasco about renting a bike, walked a lot, put a lot and like good children (for the first time in our lives, i'm sure) went to bed at 8:30 p.m. Oh, and had a super-relaxing foot massage as well. And some good food.
The next day was more fun. We totally took the trip of a couple of guys who'd apparently driven down from Pune to Pondi for the weekend. Apparently, one of them was the guy who provided the bikes for Dhoom 2, while his cousin was in Service Management for Nokia. We were so engrossed in kicking butt that we didn't realise it was time to leave for the bus stop and board our bus back to Bangalore till it was too late. Besides, neither of us were looking forward to the ride back. So we decided to stay in Pondi for the night, and took the bartender - a nerdy 22-year fresh from Hotel Management - out for a couple of drinks on us.
Rode back the next morning with a bunch of really sweet musicians who played at the Freedom Jam the previous night.
Overall, it was quite a trip. For the first time in my travelling history, I:
... abstained from wearing shorts, and wore capris instead. Only because shorts were riding up and Pondi is a bloody lecherous place.
... didn't give a damn about being stared at (whatever little that happened, because B was the focus of all attention). Maybe i've just grown up.
... rode a bike on foreign land, and that too doubles. (Even if it was for half a kilometre because the bike ran out of petrol.)
... spoke to strange Indian men and took their asses.
... took a total stranger (the bartender) out for drinks.
... showed the middle finger to two AHs without worrying about my safety.
... called the bus driver who took us to Pondi all sorts of names without worrying about my safety. Again.
... missed a bus. Intentionally, too.
So it's true, what they say about the New Year Eve setting the pattern for the New Year: i am, indeed, meeting a lot of new people and doing a lot of things i've never done before!
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
F,
You cared enough to gift me something out of my wishlist - something that i've been dying for - for a loooooong time. Don't ask me why, but i was very touched. It's not often that one finds people doing these things for them, which is why yesterday i was overjoyed, torn between grinning from ear to ear and shedding a tear or two. But tears there have been many in the past, so i settled for the grin. Oh, and thank you for completely killing the urge to give you a hug as well. Fucker.
So anyway, i wore the perfume this morning and it felt...wow. I feel good about myself, and that in itself is an occasion to celebrate because the feeling is rare. Hopefully, this time it will last longer - perhaps even as long as the little blue bottle does!
Thanks for caring yo. It means a lot to me.
B.
(P.S: Would it be too much to expect the big bottle in a couple of months' time? *Grin grin*)
So anyway, i wore the perfume this morning and it felt...wow. I feel good about myself, and that in itself is an occasion to celebrate because the feeling is rare. Hopefully, this time it will last longer - perhaps even as long as the little blue bottle does!
Thanks for caring yo. It means a lot to me.
B.
(P.S: Would it be too much to expect the big bottle in a couple of months' time? *Grin grin*)
Thursday, January 22, 2009
What is it like to be 26? No different than being 25, really.
My birthday happened off. Full, fuller, fullest day. Birthday eve, i had a party thrown for me - you can read about it on my other blog - after which i went to G's place and crashed there. On birthday, i had a relaxed lunch at Toscano, UB City. Then i went to visit A and her little star, from there to Grandma's and then to dinner at A.J. By the end of it, i was ready to collapse like a ton of bricks (i'm both heavy, and unattractive). I did have a surprise waiting for me at home, though - 26 long-stemmed red roses and a box of Ferrero Rocher Chocolates with this tag on it:
P.S: PK was the one who sent the flowers and chocolates. PK is a woman. She is married and i am straight. It was a gesture of love. Platonic love.
P.S: PK was the one who sent the flowers and chocolates. PK is a woman. She is married and i am straight. It was a gesture of love. Platonic love.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
My wishlist for my birthday, pliss.
26 wishes for my 26th.
1. Diamond nosepin.
2. Davidoff Cool Water.
3. A month of drumming lessons. (Wisecracks out there, lay off of this one.) (Conditions apply. Interested parties may contact me for further details.)
4. Jack Johnson / Strings / Moby CDs.
5. A nice black pen (ink only) and beautiful sheets in colours of clotted cream to draw on.
6. A night at a lusciously expensive and luxurious resort.
7. A man. Sensible, fun, and oh yes, hot. Like French Beard, Bald Pate, Lean kind of hot. (I just made it completely impossible to find one.) (Points number 6 & 7 don't go together.)
8. Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book.
9. Lemony Snicket's The Lump of Coal and The Beatrice Letters. Please note, while i completely love Blossoms i prefer books that look like they're fresh off the press and not like they've been handled by grubby little (or worse, big) hands.
10. A house of my own. Specifically, a penthouse.
11. A month-long holiday to a place that will give me back my peace of mind.
12. A generous soul to pay my credit card bill every month. (Last month has left me begging on the streets.)
13. A masseuse at my beck and call.
Updates due as and when i think of more.
1. Diamond nosepin.
2. Davidoff Cool Water.
3. A month of drumming lessons. (Wisecracks out there, lay off of this one.) (Conditions apply. Interested parties may contact me for further details.)
4. Jack Johnson / Strings / Moby CDs.
5. A nice black pen (ink only) and beautiful sheets in colours of clotted cream to draw on.
6. A night at a lusciously expensive and luxurious resort.
7. A man. Sensible, fun, and oh yes, hot. Like French Beard, Bald Pate, Lean kind of hot. (I just made it completely impossible to find one.) (Points number 6 & 7 don't go together.)
8. Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book.
9. Lemony Snicket's The Lump of Coal and The Beatrice Letters. Please note, while i completely love Blossoms i prefer books that look like they're fresh off the press and not like they've been handled by grubby little (or worse, big) hands.
10. A house of my own. Specifically, a penthouse.
11. A month-long holiday to a place that will give me back my peace of mind.
12. A generous soul to pay my credit card bill every month. (Last month has left me begging on the streets.)
13. A masseuse at my beck and call.
Updates due as and when i think of more.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Tripping on strings.
What-ey. This morning i heard somebody playing Strings, and my mind flipped a switch. It was beautiful listening to songs with melody not just in music but also in the lyrics. Started with "Yeh hai meri kahaani" from Zinda Hoon, one of the most goose-bumpy songs i have ever come across. Then went on to hear Anjaaney, Duur, Dhani, Naa Jaane Kyun, and then to songs from various singers - Chandni Raatein (my theme song from school days when i used to have a crush on my neighbour), Sajna aa bhi ja, Chand sa mukhda (my theme song for school days when i vacationed in Hyderabad and had a huge crush on the guy a lane away whose balcony looked onto ours) and more. And as i hear them, i'm reminded of lovely, lovely days from the past. Days when love was about meeting just a guy and falling for him totally and weaving dreams of marriage around him; days of hide and seek with balcony doors, with songs blared across the street as signals to come out of hiding; days of waiting for him to park his bike in the passage just outside our dining room so we could sneak in a touch or two through the window; days that melted into nights that melted into never-ending sighs that melted into...well, just melted. (Imagine me smiling wistfully at this point.)
So, anyway, beautiful days. Listening to the songs also reminded me of something else, something M - a Swedish designer we met at New Year's - said when we sang songs for her on the way to the after-party. She said that the songs were so intense, so full emotion. It's true. Most songs in the past were, thanks to writers like Gulzar, Javed Akhtar (he used to be good in those days), musicians like Khayyam and more. They brought emotions alive without, you know, trivialising them the way its done these days.
I figure that's probably why we never let go of our past entirely - because it has given us some of the best days of our lives. (Thanks Bryan Adams for that last bit.)
So, anyway, beautiful days. Listening to the songs also reminded me of something else, something M - a Swedish designer we met at New Year's - said when we sang songs for her on the way to the after-party. She said that the songs were so intense, so full emotion. It's true. Most songs in the past were, thanks to writers like Gulzar, Javed Akhtar (he used to be good in those days), musicians like Khayyam and more. They brought emotions alive without, you know, trivialising them the way its done these days.
I figure that's probably why we never let go of our past entirely - because it has given us some of the best days of our lives. (Thanks Bryan Adams for that last bit.)
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
The Man Proves Fatal Already. (Aka The Speedbreaker With DID, aka Happy Birthday R.)
It was supposed to be R's birthday yesterday. Supposed to be, because i thought it was and managed to convince a whole bunch of others about it as well. As a consequence, the surprise we planned for her got buried six feet under; i got abused left, right and centre; R got pissed because it seemed like none of her friends remembered her birthday.
Of course, i was the root cause for all this, and i got punished appropriately as well - i was the victim of an above-average road accident for the first time in...umm, my life i think.
K was the mastermind behind the surprise that was put together for R. We met last night at belly dancing class, finished a con-call and then got to Church Street to buy f&b. From there, we left for R's place to meet up with the rest and try to do damage control to the surprise party we had planned. Close to Prestige Elgin, it struck me that i hadn't told her about the boy. (Oooooh, incidentally, i haven't posted about him; update is, i managed to get in touch with him but he hasn't called back or made any attempt to get in touch).
So while we were talking, we came close to MICO on Adugodi road. Now, this place has a mother of a speedbreaker that's almost always wet with the waste that no matter what, manages to find its way from the naala close by. Such an ideal setting for an accident, one would say. And it was. When our Activa and the Maruti van ahead of us reached the speedbreaker, our actions were almost identical: while the van braked, sped and suddenly braked hard again, we braked, sped and skid.
It was a pretty bad fall, especially for K. Thank God for her helmet and overcoat. Both of us fell on our right side, with K's shoulder taking all the impact while her knee knocked against the asphalt. I scraped my elbow quite badly (it still hurts like a bitch) and injured my wrist (a pain that i noticed only this afternoon). The most damage was done to my chappal - it just snapped - and my jeans - the rivets that hit the road as i did, came off. Plenty of people came to our rescue - a woman even offered to drop us off in her car to our destination. Politely we refused, and like brave knightesses (why isn't there something like that?) we got back onto the bike and rode to R's.
Funny thing is, when the van braked the first time, both of us instinctively knew we were going to get hurt. Falling just before a speedbreaker meant that our heads would've suffered had we hit it. But it also meant that traffic on either side was slow at that point, so we were saved from getting crunched under wheels like gravel. It was almost like the speedbreaker couldn't decide whether it wanted to be good to us or bad. (Must've been created in the month of June, poor thing.) Surprisingly, our clothes weren't dirtied by the muck.
When we got to R's apartment complex, K parked her bike; we both looked at each other and burst out laughing. And it didn't stop there. We got into R's place, where a waiting B, V and P were only shocked that we could be laughing like two madwomen when we had just had a pretty bad accident.
Ice packs were brought forth, Dettol bottles and cotton brandished like instruments of torture, with B and P as our tormentors. An hour later, K still couldn't move her hand so we took her to Sagar Apollo and got an X-ray done. No dislocation, but inflammation of tissues around the bone causing excruciating pain. P and I got her into a sling and got back home to find a very angry R trying to smoke away her fury. We wished her a happy birthday, but she didn't respond. That sort of set the mood for the rest of the evening. Twenty minutes later, we were out of there because R just didn't seem to be interested in responding to our efforts to make everything seem normal. And the accident wasn't so bad, really. Nothing life-changing happened to us - K and i were in one piece, nothing broken.
I rode back with P on his bike at 2 in the morning. Dad was asleep, so this morning i explained my injury with a watered-down version of the accident. While coming to office, he declared, "Take it as an omen, and avoid staying out late from now on."
I don't know about the latter half of his statement, but it sure did seem like an omen: i have now inaugurated my current account with the Demon of Road Accidents.
Of course, i was the root cause for all this, and i got punished appropriately as well - i was the victim of an above-average road accident for the first time in...umm, my life i think.
K was the mastermind behind the surprise that was put together for R. We met last night at belly dancing class, finished a con-call and then got to Church Street to buy f&b. From there, we left for R's place to meet up with the rest and try to do damage control to the surprise party we had planned. Close to Prestige Elgin, it struck me that i hadn't told her about the boy. (Oooooh, incidentally, i haven't posted about him; update is, i managed to get in touch with him but he hasn't called back or made any attempt to get in touch).
So while we were talking, we came close to MICO on Adugodi road. Now, this place has a mother of a speedbreaker that's almost always wet with the waste that no matter what, manages to find its way from the naala close by. Such an ideal setting for an accident, one would say. And it was. When our Activa and the Maruti van ahead of us reached the speedbreaker, our actions were almost identical: while the van braked, sped and suddenly braked hard again, we braked, sped and skid.
It was a pretty bad fall, especially for K. Thank God for her helmet and overcoat. Both of us fell on our right side, with K's shoulder taking all the impact while her knee knocked against the asphalt. I scraped my elbow quite badly (it still hurts like a bitch) and injured my wrist (a pain that i noticed only this afternoon). The most damage was done to my chappal - it just snapped - and my jeans - the rivets that hit the road as i did, came off. Plenty of people came to our rescue - a woman even offered to drop us off in her car to our destination. Politely we refused, and like brave knightesses (why isn't there something like that?) we got back onto the bike and rode to R's.
Funny thing is, when the van braked the first time, both of us instinctively knew we were going to get hurt. Falling just before a speedbreaker meant that our heads would've suffered had we hit it. But it also meant that traffic on either side was slow at that point, so we were saved from getting crunched under wheels like gravel. It was almost like the speedbreaker couldn't decide whether it wanted to be good to us or bad. (Must've been created in the month of June, poor thing.) Surprisingly, our clothes weren't dirtied by the muck.
When we got to R's apartment complex, K parked her bike; we both looked at each other and burst out laughing. And it didn't stop there. We got into R's place, where a waiting B, V and P were only shocked that we could be laughing like two madwomen when we had just had a pretty bad accident.
Ice packs were brought forth, Dettol bottles and cotton brandished like instruments of torture, with B and P as our tormentors. An hour later, K still couldn't move her hand so we took her to Sagar Apollo and got an X-ray done. No dislocation, but inflammation of tissues around the bone causing excruciating pain. P and I got her into a sling and got back home to find a very angry R trying to smoke away her fury. We wished her a happy birthday, but she didn't respond. That sort of set the mood for the rest of the evening. Twenty minutes later, we were out of there because R just didn't seem to be interested in responding to our efforts to make everything seem normal. And the accident wasn't so bad, really. Nothing life-changing happened to us - K and i were in one piece, nothing broken.
I rode back with P on his bike at 2 in the morning. Dad was asleep, so this morning i explained my injury with a watered-down version of the accident. While coming to office, he declared, "Take it as an omen, and avoid staying out late from now on."
I don't know about the latter half of his statement, but it sure did seem like an omen: i have now inaugurated my current account with the Demon of Road Accidents.
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