I don’t know what it is about famous people that fascinate us so. Whenever I get some spare time on the computer I hungrily devour everything there is to know about famous people.
They’re not always predictable ones -- I just googled Rani Lakshmi Bai and then Ben Cross in succession, one leading to another through the whole 1857 rebellion-The Far Pavilions- Ashton Pelham Martin (my first love)-Ben Cross progression.
Yesterday I looked up Igor Stravinsky and George Harrison, and that led to Don Henley…I go where my thoughts take me. Long live Google and Wikipedia, I say.
I anxiously read through facts about their childhoods. Facts which, if a boring acquaintance were to share about his or her own life, I would condemn as the most boring thing I’d heard all day, and pretend to fall asleep immediately after. There’s just something else about famous people; darned if I know what it is.
And look at this whole Shiney Ahuja thing. (‘Shiney’… did his parents think he’ll turn out normal with a name like that? He must’ve been beaten up routinely in school.). Shiney and his wife ‘Anupam’. A marriage made in heaven ... the groom is called ‘Shiney’ and the woman has a dude’s name. (what’s up with that?)
What you all know and are groaning that you have to read about here as well is this: He has raped his possibly underage maid. No he hasn’t touched her, this is preposterous. OK I might have had a little consensual sex with her… Of course he hasn’t, my husband is a good husband and a great father… Ok I might have had more than a little sex with her… No the medical reports make it clear it’s rape, does he think he can get away with this because he’s a famous actor, etc etc.
Kudos to the victim for stepping forward and I hope he is castrated and rots in jail.
But wait! The media won’t leave it at that…over and over and over goes the looped tape of Mister Shiney in a tight t-shirt being bundled into a police van. We all watch agog at the same footage over and over and ‘tsk tsk’ disapprovingly. All the while there are women out there being raped in our country every minute. Raped and then raped again. But hey the media’s not interested, neither are we, because is your rapist’s name ‘Shiney’, madam? Not even Goldy? Then get over it. Such things happen.
I am not making the pompous point that the News should just be a long list of all the nameless victims of rape across the country to the exclusion of all else, because that’s not possible and people would stop watching the news. What I’m trying to say is, we shouldn’t fool ourselves into believing we would’ve given this young girl a passing thought if a famous actor hadn’t been involved. In fact, even now, we’re interested in what his wife is saying more than what the victim’s name is.
It’s just bizarre about celebrities. However stupid or boring or ugly they are as people, they’re as irresistible to us as a Shiney (ha ha) trinket to a magpie.
And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll have to google why Jeffrey Archer went to jail.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Obviously!!!
Shall I tell you what ELSE annoys me? The word ‘obvious’. It looks innocuous in itself, but hides a wealth of smug, know-all, if-I- get-more-full-of-myself-I’ll-burst patronization I am yet to encounter in any other word.
Why are you angry with me?
I think it should be obvious.
(If I’m asking you it’s not obvious. And there’s no need to torture me further, because really I care enough to ask you and you should be happy about that.)
What does the word ‘equity’ mean?
I can’t believe you asked such an obvious question.
(I’m sorry, were you born with that knowledge or did someone tell you, you pompous git??? Now quit wasting my time being snotty, and just tell me.)
Is the earth flat and does the sun go ‘round it?
Zounds! Thy asketh the most obvious queries!
(I rest my case.)
Why are you angry with me?
I think it should be obvious.
(If I’m asking you it’s not obvious. And there’s no need to torture me further, because really I care enough to ask you and you should be happy about that.)
What does the word ‘equity’ mean?
I can’t believe you asked such an obvious question.
(I’m sorry, were you born with that knowledge or did someone tell you, you pompous git??? Now quit wasting my time being snotty, and just tell me.)
Is the earth flat and does the sun go ‘round it?
Zounds! Thy asketh the most obvious queries!
(I rest my case.)
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Bucket List
Now, with the big 3 O looming ahead of me, I have got to thinking about life experiences. There’s no doubt that it’s better to burn out than fade away. Use up the breath allotted to you doing stuff, experiencing the things which comprise life; rather than just blamelessly, joylessly doing what keeps your heart beating (eating, sleeping, working) and then be washed away from the earth as easily as a speck of dust.
I’m not talking about fame, that’s a very narrow gauge of a life lived. (I don’t know of any famous Eskimos, does that mean no Eskimos lived life to the fullest?)
I admire people who go out and DO. Of course the moment you’re a do-er, there are things which you do wrong, people you upset. You change the course of some events, which in retrospect, might have been better left undisturbed. But that’s a small price to pay for making every breath count I think.
I’m ashamed to admit I fall into the blamelessly eating, sleeping, working category of person. But I could try to change perhaps. Say I did change (…say), what would my bucket list be to make up for nearly 3 decades of inertness?
Bucket List
1) Look like I did when I was 21. (Maybe I could aim to be a little better dressed than I did in university. Tutoring brats doesn’t get you a great wardrobe.)
2) Travel !
3) Publish my novel.
4) Er…write it first.
5) Quit soul-killing life sucking job.
6) Find alternate source of income. (preferably not soul killing or life sucking)
7) Smile more at people.
8) Not care if they don’t smile back.
9) Buy little, thoughtful gifts for friends and family (especially husband who’s always getting me thoughtful things). Make sure they get it, i.e, doesn’t go the way of some of the gifts I’ve bought in the past…given away to other people, used by self, lost or thrown away on deciding its hideous.
10) Buy little but well-appointed hut by the sea: (my friend Hillary has promised to visit) and live bohemian life. (9 and 10 hinges on point 6)
11) Be happy! (hinges on 1, 2, 3, 5 most definitely, 8 and 10)
Will let you know in 40 years how many of those I managed to cross off.
I’m not talking about fame, that’s a very narrow gauge of a life lived. (I don’t know of any famous Eskimos, does that mean no Eskimos lived life to the fullest?)
I admire people who go out and DO. Of course the moment you’re a do-er, there are things which you do wrong, people you upset. You change the course of some events, which in retrospect, might have been better left undisturbed. But that’s a small price to pay for making every breath count I think.
I’m ashamed to admit I fall into the blamelessly eating, sleeping, working category of person. But I could try to change perhaps. Say I did change (…say), what would my bucket list be to make up for nearly 3 decades of inertness?
Bucket List
1) Look like I did when I was 21. (Maybe I could aim to be a little better dressed than I did in university. Tutoring brats doesn’t get you a great wardrobe.)
2) Travel !
3) Publish my novel.
4) Er…write it first.
5) Quit soul-killing life sucking job.
6) Find alternate source of income. (preferably not soul killing or life sucking)
7) Smile more at people.
8) Not care if they don’t smile back.
9) Buy little, thoughtful gifts for friends and family (especially husband who’s always getting me thoughtful things). Make sure they get it, i.e, doesn’t go the way of some of the gifts I’ve bought in the past…given away to other people, used by self, lost or thrown away on deciding its hideous.
10) Buy little but well-appointed hut by the sea: (my friend Hillary has promised to visit) and live bohemian life. (9 and 10 hinges on point 6)
11) Be happy! (hinges on 1, 2, 3, 5 most definitely, 8 and 10)
Will let you know in 40 years how many of those I managed to cross off.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Memento Mori.
How does one get to know a person after he’s gone? I recently lost a close relative by marriage whom I’d never had the occasion to get to know.
I’d seen him in various hospitals over the last two years. And a few weeks ago, I was there when his son brought him home for the last time to a dignified yet deeply mourning family. I stood on the sidelines, secretly thanking my stars that I needn’t share in the sorrow, but trying in every way I could to comfort those who weren’t as lucky.
But during the swaran shobha, when all his family spoke about him, I realized I wasn’t that lucky after all. I started to wish I’d known him, because he sounded like someone it would’ve been fun to encounter. I felt like I was the unlucky one, for not having seen him at his jokey, resourceful , leg-pulling best, and I said as much when I was asked to speak.
Apart from the memorial service, and all the stories told by relatives and friends who poured into the house on the days succeeding his death; it struck me that I knew him quite well in another way…through his son.
People made many references to certain qualities his son had inherited, and it fascinated me to think how one can leave little pieces of oneself embedded in the next generation; who then pass it on in turn; over and over. A quality I had always thought was exclusively my husband’s would turn out to be, from an anecdote someone would tell, actually his father’s.
I felt better, and a little less of an anomaly as one of the principal mourners, once I realized that.
He lived, by today’s standards, a short life; but it sounds like he lived it fully. When I go, I’d like to be remembered similarly -- with smiles and laughter and affection.
I’d say it would be a life well lived then.
I’d seen him in various hospitals over the last two years. And a few weeks ago, I was there when his son brought him home for the last time to a dignified yet deeply mourning family. I stood on the sidelines, secretly thanking my stars that I needn’t share in the sorrow, but trying in every way I could to comfort those who weren’t as lucky.
But during the swaran shobha, when all his family spoke about him, I realized I wasn’t that lucky after all. I started to wish I’d known him, because he sounded like someone it would’ve been fun to encounter. I felt like I was the unlucky one, for not having seen him at his jokey, resourceful , leg-pulling best, and I said as much when I was asked to speak.
Apart from the memorial service, and all the stories told by relatives and friends who poured into the house on the days succeeding his death; it struck me that I knew him quite well in another way…through his son.
People made many references to certain qualities his son had inherited, and it fascinated me to think how one can leave little pieces of oneself embedded in the next generation; who then pass it on in turn; over and over. A quality I had always thought was exclusively my husband’s would turn out to be, from an anecdote someone would tell, actually his father’s.
I felt better, and a little less of an anomaly as one of the principal mourners, once I realized that.
He lived, by today’s standards, a short life; but it sounds like he lived it fully. When I go, I’d like to be remembered similarly -- with smiles and laughter and affection.
I’d say it would be a life well lived then.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
The Art of Fine Conversation
The more malicious among you who know me, have just finished rolling their eyes and saying to themselves, “What does SHE know about conversation. She takes an hour just to finish a sentence, and it’s STILL not the best thought-out sentence.” To them I will only say, “You should hear the brilliant conversations that go on inside my head. So there!”
Now that I’ve furnished my credentials to write this post, I shall plunge straight in.
If you hope to impress and amaze all with your sparkling conversation do NOT:
1) Chatter away like a psychotic monkey when you’re with other people. For one, if you’re talking THAT much, chances are you’re thinking aloud -- gibbering on about shopping lists, train timings, and the same anecdote for the 20th consecutive afternoon because the smell of coffee always triggers that memory. For another, though the thought has never crossed your mind because you’re too busy trying to eat and talk at the same time, other people might want to talk too.
2) When you’re telling an anecdote which took place in the evening don’t start with what you did in the morning “You’ll never guess what happened to me last night! …In the morning I got up, then I brushed my teeth, then I switched on the geyser, then I read the paper, then I took a bath...” Everyone is burdened with their own banalities, they really don’t want to have to experience yours second hand.
3) I don’t know about other people, but I find self-congratulatory speeches annoying (even if delivered in a self deprecatory way). The auditor in the conversation feels harangued somehow, like it is being implied that she’s a piece of shit. And the ‘self-deprecation’ doesn’t fool ANYBODY. “ I wish I could be more like you…I’m such a workaholic, I can’t read a book if I know there are chores to do.” This of course invariably follows some confession by the other person that she spent the weekend with her feet propped up on a pile of unfolded laundry, reading a book.
4) This next point is a tricky one, it works both ways: your conversation shouldn’t exclusively be an indiscriminate outpouring of venom about other people. Contrary to popular belief, it can be dreadfully dull after the first flush of excitement that gossip brings. On the OTHER hand, it’s also disquieting when you complain to a friend about someone else and they remain non committal. One invariably makes a mental note later on not to share anything more with such a person.
5) Do not go ON about people unknown to your listeners. “And then Rachna said, boy is Rachna a HOOT!...she said that Richa is the biggest slut EVER, though in my opinion that prize goes Varsha, if you know what I mean” (much waggling of eyebrows). No I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU mean, who are these people, why are you telling me about them, why don’t you just shut up?
6) Also, if the conversation has taken a different turn (once you stopped to draw breath and lost your monopoly) do not keep breaking in with a continuation of your story. It can get pretty hairy if there are several people in the dialogue.
A: I went to watch a movie yesterday, it was…
B: That reminds me I was driving down MG Road yesterday and this man just dashed in front of me.
C: How does A watching a movie remind you of that?
D: That reminds me of an aunt I had who was totally deaf…
A: the movie wasn’t great… the hero looked like Raju from the next building.
B: …so he runs in front of me, and I veer to the left and hit the lamppost.
C: Which aunt are you talking about? The one with the moustache?
D: She had a moustache and an ear trumpet. She wasn’t much of a catch my poor aunt. My uncle developed incurable depression towards the end.
A: the person in the movie had an aunt too. She was normal though…a little on the chubby side maybe…
B:…So I was, like..”Dude…do you have to dart across the road like that?”
Of course after all these don’ts some of my readers with nervous temperaments might be tempted never to indulge in conversation again.
That might actually constitute my Dos list. Communicate only if someone’s standing on your foot or such like. I’m telling ya, after having all these types inflicted on them, people will call you to every party and hail you as the greatest speaker EVER.
Now that I’ve furnished my credentials to write this post, I shall plunge straight in.
If you hope to impress and amaze all with your sparkling conversation do NOT:
1) Chatter away like a psychotic monkey when you’re with other people. For one, if you’re talking THAT much, chances are you’re thinking aloud -- gibbering on about shopping lists, train timings, and the same anecdote for the 20th consecutive afternoon because the smell of coffee always triggers that memory. For another, though the thought has never crossed your mind because you’re too busy trying to eat and talk at the same time, other people might want to talk too.
2) When you’re telling an anecdote which took place in the evening don’t start with what you did in the morning “You’ll never guess what happened to me last night! …In the morning I got up, then I brushed my teeth, then I switched on the geyser, then I read the paper, then I took a bath...” Everyone is burdened with their own banalities, they really don’t want to have to experience yours second hand.
3) I don’t know about other people, but I find self-congratulatory speeches annoying (even if delivered in a self deprecatory way). The auditor in the conversation feels harangued somehow, like it is being implied that she’s a piece of shit. And the ‘self-deprecation’ doesn’t fool ANYBODY. “ I wish I could be more like you…I’m such a workaholic, I can’t read a book if I know there are chores to do.” This of course invariably follows some confession by the other person that she spent the weekend with her feet propped up on a pile of unfolded laundry, reading a book.
4) This next point is a tricky one, it works both ways: your conversation shouldn’t exclusively be an indiscriminate outpouring of venom about other people. Contrary to popular belief, it can be dreadfully dull after the first flush of excitement that gossip brings. On the OTHER hand, it’s also disquieting when you complain to a friend about someone else and they remain non committal. One invariably makes a mental note later on not to share anything more with such a person.
5) Do not go ON about people unknown to your listeners. “And then Rachna said, boy is Rachna a HOOT!...she said that Richa is the biggest slut EVER, though in my opinion that prize goes Varsha, if you know what I mean” (much waggling of eyebrows). No I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU mean, who are these people, why are you telling me about them, why don’t you just shut up?
6) Also, if the conversation has taken a different turn (once you stopped to draw breath and lost your monopoly) do not keep breaking in with a continuation of your story. It can get pretty hairy if there are several people in the dialogue.
A: I went to watch a movie yesterday, it was…
B: That reminds me I was driving down MG Road yesterday and this man just dashed in front of me.
C: How does A watching a movie remind you of that?
D: That reminds me of an aunt I had who was totally deaf…
A: the movie wasn’t great… the hero looked like Raju from the next building.
B: …so he runs in front of me, and I veer to the left and hit the lamppost.
C: Which aunt are you talking about? The one with the moustache?
D: She had a moustache and an ear trumpet. She wasn’t much of a catch my poor aunt. My uncle developed incurable depression towards the end.
A: the person in the movie had an aunt too. She was normal though…a little on the chubby side maybe…
B:…So I was, like..”Dude…do you have to dart across the road like that?”
Of course after all these don’ts some of my readers with nervous temperaments might be tempted never to indulge in conversation again.
That might actually constitute my Dos list. Communicate only if someone’s standing on your foot or such like. I’m telling ya, after having all these types inflicted on them, people will call you to every party and hail you as the greatest speaker EVER.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
A pearl a day
Today morning I was standing in front of the office restroom mirror and sulking about my life as usual; when a frightening thought struck me. What if this IS the happiest time of my life? What if this is the time I look back upon and say with a nostalgic sigh…”aah to have an office restroom mirror to sulk in front of.” (Which could mean in the future (a) I mightn’t have an office to visit the restroom of. (b) the office I’d work at in the future won’t have a restroom.© For some bizarre reason, my future employers would have no need of mirrors. (creepy))
Because really, if one looks at the broad outlines my life is fine (I wrote “near perfect” then changed it to ‘fine” because I don’t want the jinx pixies to get me). It’s the details that are screwed up, that’s the problem. What if, heaven forbid, the broad outlines go awry too? Then I won’t even be able to look at the details, things will be so bad, and I’ll be sulking something fierce on a pavement somewhere.
It’s a sobering thought, and quite robbed me of the simple pleasure of my daily sulk. While I look ahead for that elusive day when everything will line up just like they ought, my last few months in my 20s are fast running out. Then it’ll be my 30s and my 40s and very soon, I’m in a home somewhere telling a bored attendant for the 20th time that day,…”I had everything but I didn’t know it until now”.
I know this may contradict what I said last week…and I’m not saying I’ve changed my mind about that. Let’s just compromise and say we should keep one eye on the ‘daily little problems’ aspect and another on the broad outlines; and then we’ll be fine.
Cross-eyed but fine.
Because really, if one looks at the broad outlines my life is fine (I wrote “near perfect” then changed it to ‘fine” because I don’t want the jinx pixies to get me). It’s the details that are screwed up, that’s the problem. What if, heaven forbid, the broad outlines go awry too? Then I won’t even be able to look at the details, things will be so bad, and I’ll be sulking something fierce on a pavement somewhere.
It’s a sobering thought, and quite robbed me of the simple pleasure of my daily sulk. While I look ahead for that elusive day when everything will line up just like they ought, my last few months in my 20s are fast running out. Then it’ll be my 30s and my 40s and very soon, I’m in a home somewhere telling a bored attendant for the 20th time that day,…”I had everything but I didn’t know it until now”.
I know this may contradict what I said last week…and I’m not saying I’ve changed my mind about that. Let’s just compromise and say we should keep one eye on the ‘daily little problems’ aspect and another on the broad outlines; and then we’ll be fine.
Cross-eyed but fine.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
No Problem!
This is a bit of a reiteration of an old post (one of my initial ones 2 years ago) but it’s been on my mind again; so I thought I might add something to it.
Whenever I’m upset about something, people try to cheer me up with the most bizarre - not to mention inappropriate things. “Think of all the people born without arms and legs!” they’ll exclaim with the air of one handing out treats.
But it doesn’t really work because (a) what kind of a monster claps her hands and says “Coo, thoughts of such people make me laugh all my troubles away, they do!” ?(b) it upsets me more to be reminded of the misery this world is steeped in, and (c) it’s my problem and my life and so, despite the fact it’s just the smallest microbe of a problem in the universal scheme of things (10 being an asteroid heading towards the earth causing total annihilation of all living beings, and 5 being global warming…how would you rate your problem on a scale of 1 to 10?) it’s still bothering you because it’s YOURS.
I also don’t think it’s the healthiest thing to sweep your problems under the carpet, however insignificant they are in “the scheme of things.” If it’s bothering you it’s a problem. If it’s your problem you should try to fix it so that it doesn’t classify as a problem anymore.
“Oh, my parents called up yesterday, said they had a long discussion about me. They’ve decided I am devil spawn and wish they’d killed me when they still had the chance. But hey, think of all the kids who don’t HAVE parents to phone and call them devil spawn, eh? Hee hee, it makes me feel warm ALL over!” Chances are, it’s THAT attitude which has given your parents ideas in the first place.
And because of your damned sense of perspective you totally ignore a situation which face it, kinda sucks and can be improved.
“ Hello, Mother? I didn’t appreciate being called devil spawn and would like to know what you meant by it. “
…“ The fire in ‘82? That was the dog! Tiger was devil spawn, not me!”
…“That’s OK, at your age one forgets. See you on Sunday”
Problem, ladies and gents, SOLVED.
I’m not saying we should lose all sense of perspective, but let’s admit that we’re human and individuals. Our problems naturally come first. People who mouth the whole “Children in Somalia” line usually freak out at the smallest sign that their plans are not going as they would like.
Of course there’s a flip side to this argument. (Isn’t there always?) There are some people who, when you tell them you have a problem, just can’t shake off the feeling that their problems are similar, but they’re dealing with these much better than you.
“Stomach cramps?” Looking down on you curled up in a ball on the floor. “I’m having one right now. You just can’t let them affect you like that, you need mental strength…care for a game of tennis?” Of course there’s not even the hint of a suspicion that yours might be worse than hers. Just that you’re an inferior being, and ergo, not in the mood to fool about with a racket and ball just then.
In other words, it’s fair to say your problems should be most important to you because they’re yours, but retarded to expect people will take the same view of them as you.
…And someone tell me what Somalian people say to their friends when they get depressed.
Whenever I’m upset about something, people try to cheer me up with the most bizarre - not to mention inappropriate things. “Think of all the people born without arms and legs!” they’ll exclaim with the air of one handing out treats.
But it doesn’t really work because (a) what kind of a monster claps her hands and says “Coo, thoughts of such people make me laugh all my troubles away, they do!” ?(b) it upsets me more to be reminded of the misery this world is steeped in, and (c) it’s my problem and my life and so, despite the fact it’s just the smallest microbe of a problem in the universal scheme of things (10 being an asteroid heading towards the earth causing total annihilation of all living beings, and 5 being global warming…how would you rate your problem on a scale of 1 to 10?) it’s still bothering you because it’s YOURS.
I also don’t think it’s the healthiest thing to sweep your problems under the carpet, however insignificant they are in “the scheme of things.” If it’s bothering you it’s a problem. If it’s your problem you should try to fix it so that it doesn’t classify as a problem anymore.
“Oh, my parents called up yesterday, said they had a long discussion about me. They’ve decided I am devil spawn and wish they’d killed me when they still had the chance. But hey, think of all the kids who don’t HAVE parents to phone and call them devil spawn, eh? Hee hee, it makes me feel warm ALL over!” Chances are, it’s THAT attitude which has given your parents ideas in the first place.
And because of your damned sense of perspective you totally ignore a situation which face it, kinda sucks and can be improved.
“ Hello, Mother? I didn’t appreciate being called devil spawn and would like to know what you meant by it. “
…“ The fire in ‘82? That was the dog! Tiger was devil spawn, not me!”
…“That’s OK, at your age one forgets. See you on Sunday”
Problem, ladies and gents, SOLVED.
I’m not saying we should lose all sense of perspective, but let’s admit that we’re human and individuals. Our problems naturally come first. People who mouth the whole “Children in Somalia” line usually freak out at the smallest sign that their plans are not going as they would like.
Of course there’s a flip side to this argument. (Isn’t there always?) There are some people who, when you tell them you have a problem, just can’t shake off the feeling that their problems are similar, but they’re dealing with these much better than you.
“Stomach cramps?” Looking down on you curled up in a ball on the floor. “I’m having one right now. You just can’t let them affect you like that, you need mental strength…care for a game of tennis?” Of course there’s not even the hint of a suspicion that yours might be worse than hers. Just that you’re an inferior being, and ergo, not in the mood to fool about with a racket and ball just then.
In other words, it’s fair to say your problems should be most important to you because they’re yours, but retarded to expect people will take the same view of them as you.
…And someone tell me what Somalian people say to their friends when they get depressed.
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