purple child

Wednesday, December 29, 2004

26th December 2004

There is life and then there is death. And am ok with both because thats life. But sunday the 26th of December was bad. Sunday after christmas. After a nice party where I got drunk.
unday's are usually dull and boring, not to mention slow and very sleepy. Even in a tv newsroom.
But last sunday was a disaster. The day tsunami came knocking on India's coast and swept away 12,000 people. The earthquake in Indonesia that unleashed the fury of the ocean.


When I left office that day I was exhausted. Because I had never seen so many dead bodies. raw footage. cut vo's . Translating tears into words. When I left office that day the total number of people dead in South Asia was 8000, today the total figure has crossed 1.5 million and whats worse it just doesn't seem to stop.

All in a week. Dead, devastated and destroyed. In Sri Lanka alone more than 40,000 people have died.
Imagine waking up one morning and losing your whole life and everything in it.

I have never heard of an earthquake measuring 8.9 on the richter scale. Perhaps the earthquake in Pompeii? Must cross check on that one.

So new year was very sombre. I did not even touch alcohol, just sat at home and watched TV.
I have very rarely partied during new years. The year gone by ended with atleast 2.5 million people dead or homeless or grief stricken.

Its sunday again and as usual (thank God ) nothing has happened so far.
Its dull and boring and no one's complaining.....

Monday, December 13, 2004

Sunday notes

A lot happened on Sunday and I have been aching to write about it ever since.
I woke up with two SMSes. Both from Sanjaya informing me about the bomb blast on Saturday in Colombo where ShahRukh Khan was performing. A hand grenade was apparently flung towards the stage and it landed on the VIP area. Two people died and several injured.

I was happy to know that I was one of the first few people to know about all this thanks to sanjaya. Wonder what kind of SMSes await when he goes to Afghanistan. Wonder if he's left already. Lost boy sanj.

The other big news was the death of MS. Felt like my grandmother died all over again. Its amazing how both these women played such a role in bringing music into my life. In most south indian families children are expected to learn any form of fine art, be it music or dance. I started with Bharatanatyam but discontinued when my grandmother discovered that I could sing. Not that I was planning to become the next Rukmini Devi Arundale...but still dance is always more glamorous. So I basically started singing at somewhere around 5 with Vande Vasudevam and Srimannarayana not knowing that I had picked half of the songs from my grandmother and the other half from MS's tapes and record player discs.
There are musicians and then there is MS. I can feel goosebumps even before the tape starts when she strums the tanpura. The alapanais, the kalpanai swaram, Namaramayanam and my favourie Annamacharya kritis especially Entamatramuna. Fair, stocky, diamond studs, diamond nose studs, jasmine flowers around her little bun. Radha Vishwanathan on the side.
I have the entire Hanuman chalisa by heart thanks to hearing that tape everyday of my life. No exaggeration. Even if I didn't pay attention to it some part of it would filter through my head and stay. So one day I just sat with a copy of the chalisa and to my surprise I could just sing without looking at the book.
Then there is her rendition of the Viriboni varnam. Everything about it is a little difficult. Its an Ata talam varnam. And to sing it with so much perfection needs something more than just plain interest in carnatic music. When I used to practice and sing people told me that I have a beautiful voice and that I should never discontinue. I felt like music was shoved down my throat. But it wasn't. I sang because it made me happy.
There won't be an MS ever again. Infact I don't think anyone will be able to sing like her ever.
Bhakti-years of practice-divinity all in one ....super woman. God of music.

Thursday, December 09, 2004

School .... yuck.... hell revisited

Was seeing some school photographs ...actually stumbled upon them by chance. It was such a strange feeling because you might think that there is a part of life that you don't want to recollect and that you will forget it eventually. But those pictures changed my perception. I remember everything including the smell in those class rooms. The sound of the first bell and the sweet sound of the final bell. They were the same but the latter sounded so much more melodious.
I hated school. I hated everything about it including waking up in the morning, shoving a glass ful of milk down my throat and then running to the bus stop which was a good 10 minute walk. I loved vacations. Infact I loved school just a day or two before vacations. It was all so nice. The whole wrapping up and going for a while feeling. Holiday homeworks were assigned but who cared? I still don't regret not being the teacher's pet or the debate competition that I missed because I wasn't confident enough. I was never confident of anything. Infact I was a compulsive backbencher with just one ambition - get back home and go out and play. And thats exactly what am going to make my kids do. If I have the good fortune of making them with my dear boyfriend, it will be a little difficult. You see the love of my life loves talking about his wonderful and celebrated school life. Not only did he stand first in each class ... the bugger had all the time in the world to go for hajjaar debates and guess what ....win all of them ...Damn! and then he meets me.
Howzzat???? His kids I know will be Karimeen eating little bespeckled rats... mine will be sher da patthas (little tigers) ....
oh well.... hmmmm on second thoughts bespeckled (with grey locks) mice will be a better long term investment... no?

Tuesday, December 07, 2004

Sheesh !

Just wrote an entire blog on alcohol but thanks to this crap internet connection I will have to write it again.
Am not doing that.

Sunday, December 05, 2004

He and She II

Sometimes I don't feel like a woman ........ because I don't do things that normal women do.
Please don't take offence .... all you women. It's not a sweeping generalisation.
I can't imagine making someone's life miserable just because I'm having a bad day. I'd like to change a flat tyre. I always have an urge to get into a fist fight with people and beat them up. I like wearing track pants all the time. I think manicures and pedicures are a waste of time and money and effort. I can do without cooking. I like sitting quietly when guys are having a deep conversation even if it is Cristiano Jr's sudden death. I hate running people's lives. Do your own thing I say. I understand men better than other women. Maybe thats because the man in me speaks louder. Some of the most beautiful women according to me are those who possess resilience and show it when they have to. I don't understand men who treat me like eye candy. I don't detest them or avoid them I just don't understand them. If you are doing all my work what am I doing sitting around? Adding to the background value?

Am almost always absent minded about other people's needs. I always talk about my problems first, oblivious to the fact that it is a dialogue.... and that the other person might want to say something. So I guess am not all the things that go into being the perfect woman. A woman as a man would perceive is different from a woman that other women would look at. Or for that matter the woman that i'am is far different from the woman I'd like to be in a few years.
So I wish there is no benchmark in terms of whats acceptable and whats not. My mother getting up at 5:30 am to make us tea is acceptable but it isn't acceptable that I can't or refuse to do the same. Am not a rebel of any kind, am too lazy to be one. I just like doing my things my way. And if I want to do something I 'd do so with all my heart and creativity but give me a lecture on how I ought to...... I'll be so thickskinned that you'll feel sorry that you ever knew me.
This blog should have been titled " Me & Me"

Saturday, December 04, 2004

He & She Part I

Someone sitting next to me a couple of hours ago just looked at me very dreamily and said

"you know the nice thing about being in love is not about where its going and how it will end , but just the feeling of being in it..... is so good"

hmmmm it is true actually and I seriously wonder what happens to all that love when people get married and have kids? where is all that unbridled passion and love/lust whatever. And if marriages are so dull and drabby why do people marry? are they mad?

for eg:

He (from his house...in a groggy + sexy = making her hormones go mad in hyper activity) Good morning..

She (from her house... in a super sexy voice esp in the mornings) Ohh good morning love...whats happ? Di you have breakfast? are you still in potty? ( you think thats gross? wait till you fall in love)

He: Ohhh baby I wish you were here. I would want to wake up every morning with you.
She : (thinking " oh God!waking up to a sexy voice like that every morning)
Now imagine if they lived in the same house:

He ( smelly mouth...sexy voice still) Where's my coffee? (whatever happ to pleasantries ??)

She (After long working hours and even longer love making hours) Coffee?????? Is that you really? The same person? what coffee???? Did you pay the electricity bill? phone bill?

He: Will do today

She : Thanks I'll do it myself

He: why do you have to get started early in the morning yaar?

She: cause you won't ever get started.... until the electricity walla comes and snaps connection...

He: Ok whatever... after 12 hours of slogging for this house can I atleast get a decent cup of coffee in the morning?

She: What do you think I do all day, listen to Mozart? you get more than what you desrve... stop complaining....

I could go on and on and on except that I think with all its ups and downs marriages are still great. If they involve intelligent people . Those who know when to talk and what. When to embrace and when to detach. When to talk and when to shut up. When to give and how to take.
When to say and how.

Whatsay?







Saturday hai ji

Just finished reading this book five point someone.... not a very great book but I shouldn't say that cause I was laughing everywhere with my face buried in that book. The conductor in the white line that ferries me to work everyday must have thought i'm mad.
But when I look at life before and after ACJ I realise how important it is to go that extra mile to have fun. But I have never been able to throw myself in a situation without feeling a little hesitant or guilty when I do what I do. Its a silly morality issue I think. And the closer i'am to home it bothers me more. It's weird how successful people always do everything with so much involvement. From working to drinking to partying. Work hard, party harder.
I want to party. Its been a while.
Have been trying to avoid getting into a messy marriage situation. But my mother won't give up. I mean she is not supposed to give up. I guess thats why she is my mother. But what is with this middle class way of thinking? Middle class does not mean the money factor. But the mentality which is so stifling. So what if a woman's not married till 27. I mean if she's working, earning , is smart enough to know what she wants out of life then why not let her be?
And whats with this "what will people say"? I mean who are these people ? Bring them home please and I will cite a 100 things that's going wrong in their lives. But do I want to ? Hell no!
I was standing today waiting for the bus when I saw these two kittens playing in this small enclosure. Two little balls of fur. Both attempting to climb a tree. And slipping and falling and trying again. If only anaimals could talk. But I guess its nicer this way. Its nice to try and understand someone's feelings without them having to spell out everything for you. And vice versa.
okok enough gyaan....