Weekend Reading

Thanks for all the sympathy! I'm feeling much better now. And I'm home in Vizag for the weekend so the month is at least ending on a great note. :-) 

Meanwhile, I’ve never done this link posts before, but there’s just so much great reading material on my FB newsfeed right now, that I absolutely HAVE to put it all up in one place.

This fabulous piece, titled ’25 Things I’ve Learned in My Twenties’ – how the hell does this guy know the story of my life? I was nodding so much throughout the article that my head was in danger of detaching itself from my neck. About dating jerks until you finally realise they will never become better people, about metabolism slowing down so you start feeling unattractive, about losing touch with friends and how it hurts or doesn’t, about questioning every decision you make, about watching your parents grow old in front of your eyes, about cruel bosses, about betraying your convictions, about first love, about our own cruelty, even about puking in public. This really resonated with me. If you’re in your twenties, go read. NOW!

I found this article very disturbing. What was worse was that even after reading it, an acquaintance wrote about what a wonderful place it was, without even acknowledging all the issues that the place has.

This was fun! Especially if you’ve seen the movie and know the context. My favourites: "Man who catch fly with chopstick accomplish anything" from The Karate Kid. And "Truth hurts. Maybe not as much as jumping on a bicycle with the seat missing, but it hurts" from Naked Gun 2 ^½. Who would have thought action movies had such profound wisdom in them?

The story of the sting operation performed by Shripal Shaktawat and Meena Sharma on doctors performing sex selective abortions in Rajasthan. Because these two very brave people deserve to have their story told. Many times over.

On the topic of sex selective abortions, Nivedita Menon writes a brilliant piece that reflects many of my own reservations about how my pro-choice stance aligns itself with my stance against sex selective abortions.

This anti-MBA sounds like something I would enjoy. Even if I don’t learn anything, I will get to travel around the world, meet some fascinating people, and come across some very interesting perspectives.

This hard hitting article from P Sainath raises some uncomfortable questions. Even as the Planning Commission, in all its wisdom, brings down the BPL, our governments continue to blow up money while poverty, health and education remain neglected.

Happy reading!

Battered, Bruised and Hungry

If anyone is still reading this blog – I am so very sorry that I haven’t updated (not that anyone was holding their breath) or even bothered to respond to all your lovely comments. I’ve just been going through a blue funk for the last month. Punctuated by bouts of whirlwind social activity. Or extreme lethargy.

So it’s not been the best month so far. A lot of things that I don’t want to happen are going to happen very soon, and I keep thinking about it, and it makes me very cranky, annoyed and hard done by. A lot of things I want to happen are also hopefully going to happen, but that’s not happening for much longer so I get frustrated thinking about it, and then realising that its really far off, and getting cranky all over again. I feel like this year, I’m just waiting for September to come, so I can start this exciting new phase of my life then, and I HATE the fact that I’m not really living in the now, but just waiting for the future to come.

Now that I’ve sounded suitably vague and mysterious and angsty, you’d think I’d leave it when the going is good and spare you further details. But alas, innocent reader, that is not to be. I shall now entertain you (not!) with the gory details of the especially awful week that has just gone by. To start with, I slipped and fell down and hurt myself pretty badly – bruised knees, aching back, scratches on my feet, the works. After a few days of this pain, I was recovering and beginning to feel better, but then I did something to my neck, and it hurt so bad that for two nights I couldn't sleep because of the pain that kept shooting through my neck and right shoulder every time I turned in my sleep. Of course, I kept moaning and screaming loudly enough to keep waking up poor Nike who kept rubbing balm through the night*.

The crowning glory (pun unintended) was the visit to the dentist on Sunday for dental flap surgery. *GORY DETAILS AHEAD* It basically involved separating my gums from my teeth, after which they are folded back like a flap so the dentist has direct access to the roots and bone. The dentist then removes infected tissue, plaque and tartar from this area, and then stitches the gums back in place. *END OF GORY DETAILS*

I have a very low (read non-existent) threshold for pain and communicated my discomfort very clearly to my dentist so he suggested we do it in two sittings. This weekend, he did the procedure for the upper set of teeth. I was given anaesthesia so it was totally pain-free but I could feel that he was putting pressure on my teeth/gums/root and I could hear all the scraping and I could see all the blood so that really freaked me out; to distract myself, I focused on how fat I would become if I put on a kilo every year. How would I look at 40? At 60? What would be the ideal age to die if I wanted to die before I got too fat?

Anyway, after such delightful ruminations on the dental chair, I came back home with a blood soaked mouth and swollen cheeks. As I examined myself in the mirror, I was horrified to discover that my gums has become completely misshapen – until Nike pointed out that I was looking at blood soaked cotton! I took painkillers and antibiotics and slept through the day.

I also mumbled my way through a lot of phone calls from all the friends and family with whom I had discussed it like what I had undergone was the world’s most revolutionary surgery. My dad, very touchingly, called me half a dozen times through the day to see how I was doing. My mother, who had gone through the same procedure a couple of years ago, was regretfully very cavalier about it – I’m still thinking of ways to guilt trip her over this.

It was also Cousin M’s birthday so we all went to dinner to Serengeti. It was an unfortunate choice of restaurant because the food smelled absolutely divine and made me very hungry. While my entire meal consisted of two pieces of paneer tikka. I am still drooling at the thought of the chilli olive naan. Though I suppose I could live much longer before I reached my fat threshold if I ate so little every day.

The whole post-procedure experience has been pain-free, though there’s mild discomfort before sleeping and after getting up, I guess when the effect of the painkillers has worn off. I worked from home on Monday because the process of dental care was too messy to subject my colleagues to. And I had curd rice with the yummiest, most delicious and juicy mangoes.

I wanted to watch Ishaqzaade today but decided to postpone it till I am in a condition where I can eat popcorn during the movie (or fries. I’m not a big fan of fries but the INOX snack counter at GVK One serves wonderfully fresh fries, even though in incredulously tiny quantities). So  Nike bought me ice apples so I’d have something soft to eat through my television marathon today evening (Junior Master Chef, Big Bang Theory, Raising Hope, Scrubs, Amazing Race – I've seen more television in one day that in the whole of last month!). He also made me cold coffee because I felt like it. The next time I whine about him, someone please remind me of what a wonderful, caring, considerate, indulgent person he is, and then knock me on the head with a club.

I’m off to a painkiller induced sleep right now. You all have a Happy Tuesday!

*I am not including minor injuries such as when my friend stomped on my feet in her heels when we were dancing, leaving it bruised. Or when I accidentally jabbed a sharp pencil on my leg, so hard that it created a deep scratch through my jeans. That would make it look like I'm trying to get sympathy (which is absolutely not what this post is about, no sir!)

All Alone

I’m sitting in a hotel room in Patna as I type this, with a television sitcom providing an incongruous background sound. My room is comfortable enough but old; the furnishings and upholstery are heavy and faded, giving this room a dated feel. I know by now that this is how most mid-range hotel rooms in the smaller cities are and with my curtains closed, I could be anywhere – Bhopal, Srinagar, Bhubaneswar, Patna.

Usually, I love being where I am right now. In an unknown city, in an anonymous hotel room, all by myself. It’s the only time when I really get ‘me’ time. When I’m home, even if I am home alone, I rarely get ‘me’ time – I’m talking on the phone, I’m chatting on the internet, I’m reading blogs and commenting on them, I’m faffing on Facebook, I’m sending and receiving emails - basically living a busy social life, even if much of it is virtual. But in these old-fashioned hotel rooms, internet is at a premium and I don’t use a data card, so I finally get ‘me’ time; I watch more TV in a day than I would in a whole month at home, I read, I sleep.

But this time around, I’m not enjoying the alone time. I’ve been travelling almost continuously the last two weeks – Tirupati, Vizag, Delhi, Agra – and throughout these weeks I have been spending a lot of time with family and friends, so maybe I’m just disoriented to find myself alone all of a sudden, after hanging out with not less than six people on any given day in the last two weeks. Or maybe I’m just tired and disoriented from all the travel and movement, and it’s finally gotten to me and I’m beginning to feel low. Or maybe there’s nothing fun to watch on television – and as uninteresting as that sounds, that’s most probably the reason.

This is my first visit to Bihar. Since I am travelling alone here, I’ve been advised by all and sundry to be careful. And all these ‘be careful’ suggestions have led to a slight sense of discomfort about being here by myself, especially because I will be paying a visit to some rural villages as part of this trip. And as much as I try to shake off that discomfort, it doesn’t completely go away.

But the people here have so far been incredibly friendly and helpful. Whether it is my driver, or senior government officials, or local NGO workers. And Patna was a surprise to me – it’s a fairly clean city with good roads (atleast the parts I have been to). Tomorrow though, I will get a taste of rural Bihar. Which reminds me that I need to go to sleep now – I have a long day tomorrow, and I need to get an early start.

That's all for now!

Tales from a Marriage

Priorities or Lack Thereof

One night last week, Nike and I had a long discussion about finances. Rather, I launched into a long monologue about finances while Nike pretended to listen. We expect some big changes in our life in the second half of the year - a possible shift of jobs and cities – and I am worried that we will be in a tight spot financially for the next one year after that. Which led to the monologue where I spoke about how I was worried about finances and how we need to manage finances better; at the end of it all Nike said I worry unnecessarily and promptly went off to sleep!

The next day, he noticed a single strand of grey hair. And fell headlong into depression. I told him a single strand did not a whole head of hair make. I told him that he would look very sexy with grey hair - an Indian George Clooney, if you will (I don't actually think he will look anything like that but you're allowed to lie in extenuating circumstances). That day, he poured half a bottle of oil on his hair and then made his mother put some sort of hair pack on his head. When I came back home from work that evening, he had a long talk with me about how worried he was about his grey hair, and what steps he would take to prevent more grey hairs! 

If ever there was a case of messed up priorities, it is this!

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Of Course, it’s a Competition!

Last week, Nike made banana walnut muffins. I was not happy about this at all. I made a banana cake just a few weeks ago and was still basking in the glory of all the praise I received for that. Now Nike was making banana walnut muffins. And since he is a much better cook, I was sure his muffins would taste better than my cake. I couldn’t let this happen. So I bombarded him with recipes for vanilla muffins, apple cinnamon muffins, red velvet cupcakes and anything else that did not have banana in it. But he was adamant that it would be banana walnut muffins only and rejected all the other recipes I sent him.

I then tried to sabotage the muffins by hovering around him while he was baking and giving him all sorts of incorrect advice. However, he banished me from the kitchen so I went and sulked instead. He called me to come and taste once the muffins were done, and I was forced to admit that they tasted better than my cake. Even though the walnuts were burnt. But, but, but, but, but…..my banana cake looked WAY better than his muffins. So we’re even now, no?

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Great Expectations

My birthday is this Sunday. I am so excited and hyper about it that one would be forgiven for thinking I’m going to be eight, instead of twenty-eight (As an aside, I am rather anal about spelling out numbers, instead of simply writing them down in number format. They look so much more beautiful when spelt out fully. Twenty-eight. 28. You tell me, which looks better? End of aside.) And so for my birthday, I thought long and hard and discussed with friends and colleagues and finally decided I would ask Nike for a diamond pendant for my birthday gift.

Instead, Nike gave me vouchers worth Rs.7000 at Landmark. This is much worse than it sounds because (a) These were vouchers left over from the gift he bought me for our anniversary, not vouchers he specifically purchased for my birthday (b)We (though Nike says I) managed to lose half the vouchers so in reality, I have vouchers worth only Rs.3500 (c) Despite my insistence on going and shopping alone for books, Nike accompanied me and then ruined the entire experience by being in a bad mood, snapping at me, and hurrying me through the shopping so that I ended up buying books that I am not sure I want.

Consequently, I feel cheated and gift-less. I am telling Nike that he needs to buy me another gift. Something that I can show off on Facebook, on my blog, and to my family and friends is thoughtful and considerate.

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And so the countdown starts to Sunday. Happy weekend, you guys!

The Story of My Life

Photo Credits: Ahmed El Mezeny (from Facebook)

I found this image on Facebook and it was SO bloody true of my life! I showed this to my colleagues yesterday, and they all had a hearty laugh. After which we bitched in great detail about how we never get enough money, how nobody understands what we do, and how, sometimes, we ourselves aren't sure of what we're doing!

Happy weekend, y'all!