So long, farewell

It's something I've been thinking about.

To move my blog from nomadlife.org (even though I love the cool address) since I'm not really a member of the community anymore. Moreover the people who inspired me to join have left, so why stay.

To make my blog private. I've written some personal stuff here and on occasion taken it off. I'd like to be able to write and leave it there knowing that trusted people read it. You see, my only hope now is an arranged marriage and if someone finds my blog it will definitely create a problem.

So adios amigos, perhaps we'll meet again in my private lounge.

Take care.

I could go on, but then there is no point, is there?

Ugh

My writing feels like crap. The flow is gone. I no longer want to write in my over-critical bitchy tone. So that plus the brain freeze I have been experiencing makes it hard. So be patient (not that anybody reads this blog). I think just putting these words down will thaw it out a bit.

Prison Break Mania

Determined to watch the DVDs I rented, I forced myself to plug in Prison Break season 2. 8 episodes later, I had to force myself to turn it off and go to bed. So much for my "I don't think TV series are meant to be watched back to back" attitude.

I don't normally enjoy TV shows at a stretch, but this one is awesome. I think season 2 is far better than season 1. The editing is fantastic and the turn of events keeps you gripped. My brother walked in around episode 5 and I had to sit on the DVDs so that he wouldn't watch the rest without me.

The one character that really gives me the creeps is T-Bag (Robert Knapper). I suppose I should applaud his role and acting 'cause it's so creepy that I fast forward every one of his sex-addict scenes. In season 1, he gave me some nightmares.

I've got 5 more discs to go in Season 2 and only 3 days before I return them to the store. 

 

7 things you should know

1. i can't seem to be able to choose books to read. i've become too dependent on recommendations. i find myself staring at the shelves in the book store not knowing what to read.
2. i cannot remember facts and figures. even if i read over them, they just zip in and out of my head in a matter of seconds. the muggpot part of my brain never really developed.
3. i muse about "life" a lot. i often stop myself from writing about it (who wants to read this slushy-mushy stuff), but now i think i'll just go ahead.
4. i recently watched the first season of prison break and was addicted to it. i just rented season two. however, i am not good at watching movies or tv by myself. typically i hold on to the dvd for 2 weeks and return it without even watching it.
5. i don't deal well with authority.
6. when i get sad, i can't listen to any music. it just overwhelms me. the irony is that everyone's advice is "listen to your favourite songs".
7. i loooove massages. you can buy me one any time.

more later.....

Yesterday, Nupur and I drove around town sampling Kolkatta street food. We started with the famous Kathi Rolls from the Bandis. Rs.20 for a hot, oily, spicy omlette wrapped in a thick paratha. It was sinfully delicious.

We then moved on to "Khidki" (tranlation = Window) where a handful of rajasthani men sit in a small window-size opening and sell bhelpuri and masala thumbs up. Another Rs.20 for lip-smacking, salty-tangy bhepuri. The masala thumbs up came in a terracotta tumbler that we smashed to the ground after using. Natural AND disposable. Pretty cool.

Then we hunted down this old kulfi man who makes a wicked Sitaphal Kulfi. Standing in an onscure corner of a small bylane, you wouldn't know about him unless you grew up here. I desperately wanted a second one but by then I couldn't possible eat another bite of anything.

Rs.60 per head in total for the food and about Rs.400 for the petrol :). The last time I was here, we were mostly home bound with an "there is nothing much to Kolkatta" attitude. But as wefinished our tour yesterday, Nupur's memory kicked into gear and suddenly there were ten other things I had to try. Unfortunately I already bought a ticket for tonight. So next time.

Oh Calcutta!

Am in Cal with my friend Nupur. I shamelessly invited myself over. The food is amazing and Nupur's energy is infectious. It's easy to piggy back on her life.

We stayed up till 2am and watched 8 episodes of Prison Break -- I am still convinced you're not meant to watch tv series back to back, they really get monotonous and trying. At the end of one of episodes a closing song began to play and my heart fluttered. I couldn't place the song until the lyrics began. The song brought back memories I didn't want to face. I realised that out of the blue something, anything, can just get you in the gut.

Something I read yesterday (paraphrased):
A soul mate is someone that mirrors you, that's why you feel you've connected so deeply and want to hold on forever. A soul mate can touch that part of you which you were either afraid of reaching or didn't think you could reach at all. But THANK GOD they don't stay for too long, because living with yourself 24/7, for the rest of your life, will completely exhaust you physically and emotionally.

Digital Monopoly

We brought a new Monopoly. We had our cute little family evening where we played and ripped each other apart. Monopoly brings back memories of the hours spent with friends and siblings. But the new version has changed....

1. Railway stations replaced with airports
2. New hotspots of London are now on board
3. No more ships and irons as coins....now we have cell phones, aeroplanes and f1 cars
4. NO PAPER MONEY -- each one of us gets a debit card and an electroic device adds/removes money. This was a let down for me -- the machine is annoying and it feels like you're sitting next to an ATM. Also, being the banker is now work and not fun AND you can no longer cheat.

I went thru a phase where I thought Monopoly was evil mostly because my highly competitive friends who argue over one stupid deal for 30 minutes and end up fighting continuing to sulk for the rest of the day. Why would you want to PLAY something that creates conflict like that?

As always I lost. My little rollerblade coin barely moved away from taxes ad jail and i was soon broke. A sign that I shouldn't play or that I will never rollerblade.

break it down

i had mentioned somewhere earlier that 2008 will be an interesting year. i had a feeling, some signs. well so far, it's been quite ride.

i've got so far
- a knee pain that comes and goes....working on it
- a mysterious back problem for 4 months that caused a lot of agony and fright -- seems to be better right now
- a massive spasm in my neck from which my right arm still hurts. can't find a comfortable position to sleep.
- insomnia for 5 straight weeks where i slept about 1 hour each night
- loads of doctors, therapists, ayurvedics, homeopaths, all trying to tell me it's gonna be okay and trying to offer their opinion
- a heartbreak that was brought on by illness, fear, insecurity, and a whole horde of confusing emotions
- a cold and fever that just adds to the restlessness

when it rains, it pours. and being a worrier doesn't help. it's not a good idea to write about yr problems. it doesn't take things off yr mind. but what the heck. why not. to top it all, i haven't made it to the beauty salon, now everyone knows how hairy i am.

but the one thing that's happened is that these events have "brought me home". i've handed myself over to my parents who're looking after me like i'm their 1 yr old baby. no one, no one can look after you the way your parents do.

i cry when i want. laugh when i want. shout at them in annoyance. ask for food. shamelessly wake them up at night. it's because i can. i've finally let go of the resistances and when everything is over, if i have to think of one thing i gained from it all, it is the dissolving of the barriers that i created around me for so long. what patient people i say.

i heart mom and dad.

Mindnight Blogging

I've been on a weight gain plan recently. I've been told time and again how I barely eat enough and since I've been struggling with my energy lately, I decided to give it a shot. Yesterday I found myself stuffing in extra rotis for each meals forcing the food down my throat. It was a battle between the extra food on my plate and me and I had decided to win.

Here I am at 3:30am with an upset stomach and no sleep. Psycho.

We've been putting together a little Spice Booklet for one of the restaurants at work. The idea is that we will give these to guests to keep them busy while the food takes too long. They, at the same time, will get frustrated and buy more alcohol. Win win for all. Anyway, the Food and Beverage Director looks at the list of spices to be included and violently (oh my) scratches out curry leaves. Huh? what? What's this against curry leaves? "Bloody South Indian obsession", he mumbled (He's a Bong).

I come home and my very-north-indian sis-in-law is giving the cook instructions on making Kadi, a Gujarati dish, and specifies, twice, don't put any curry leaves.

I don't get it. Having grown up in the South, curry leaves are a taken for granted part of every dal or vegetable. Why do the northies hate it so much? Ever had Chicken 65? Nothing but the spicy kick of the curry leaf. When you have that little green leaf thrown into your veggies, you don't need too much masala. Curry your curry so that you can enjoy the falvourful every meal.

Now I sound like a cook book.

On the other hand, northies, especially the Marwari ones, can't live without their Hing, asofetida. I like hing. Or let's say, I don't mind it. It makes me fart and I don't mind that too. But I don't like to taste only hing when I eat my food. I'd trade a curry leaf for hing any day.

This is what happens in the wee hours of the night. The mind refuses to rest.

A Letter to the U2 Lover

Last night, as we were talking about your love for U2 and how you remembered the details of the moments you connected with their music and lyrics, yours stories brought back a lot of Bjork memories for me. Even though I rarely listen to her music now, I remember how her music followed me through my years in college and some more.

The first time I listened to Bjork was when Sruthi came home from her college in Michigan in 1999. I was morose because I didn't like being stuck in Hyderabad while all I really wanted was out. So when she played Hyperballad for me in the hope that I would say "Wow, this is really cool", I actually looked really sullen and said "Wow, you have to be really fucked up to enjoy this". Ha, imagine her face. By fucked up I meant on drugs where your sensibilities would allow you to be carried away by the song.

Sruthi coyly left the CD with me, just in case and I played it a few times. I began to notice that each time Hyperballad played, my heart would begin to race and as the song progressed I'd have this desperate desire to run really fast and jump off a cliff. The song would mostly be playing in the background with me barely paying attention to the lyrics and the layers the melody are what got me first. And then I listened to the words:

I wonder what my body would sound like
slamming against those rocks
and when it lands
will my eyes be closed
or open

It was unbelievable. How did she know that's exactly what I wondered?

The next song that captured me was I Miss You (I've already sent this to you). I remember the exact details of the moment I fell in love with it. I was in the "will I ever meet my kind of guy" mode. I was in Ohio, driving to my uncle's place, and was parked at a traffic signal when this song started blaring on the radio. I recognized it but had, again, never paid too much attention to the lyrics. This time I listened, especially since the words were an echo of what was going on inside, and I felt really high listening to the song. Even today, I love this song. It's a fantastic foot tapping number with a hip hop swing in the undertone.

I've got so many songs of hers floating in my head right now. I'll just have to play them for you in person and tell you the stories.