Chronicles of a Birthday Girl

It's birthday time! Tomorrow I will be a year older. Somewhere along the line, birthdays stopped being important. Somewhere along the line, I stopped reminding people of my impending birthday. Somewhere along the line, I became old. OLD. Many years ago, balloons gave me the cheap thrills I sought. Now nothing less than hot air balloons would do the trick.

I don't recollect a better part of the past. Yes, age is catching up on me.

A few slices of the Birthday (cake?)

The Third
My cake was shaped like a castle. Exactly like the one in the book of rhymes I had. My creative addition: my favourite red car was parked right outside. From the book:

What are little girls made of?
What are little girls made of?
Sugar and Spice and everything nice
That's what little girls are made of!

The Fifth

My birthday dress was red and white. Checks. And it had apple in front. I distinctly remember thinking: Mango is a summer fruit, and apple is a winter fruit. And my birthday is in winter, hence it should be apples on my dress. Yes, logic came early to me.

My birthday cake had five dolls. Their heads were made of biscuits, and had candles stuck on them. And their brown eyes were drawn with vanilla essence.

The Sixth
I received Readers' Digest (Richard Attenborough's) "The Living Planet" as a birthday Gift from Ma and Daddy. Glossy books you would love running your fingers on, and they smelt so fresh. I was fascinated by the picture of the volcano. I promised to myself I will see a volcano, among other things, some day.

Few Years Later

I had a crush, a first. He hand-made a card. I still have it somewhere.

The Sixteenth

I felt pretty. The dress was blue and red. Bright. The big group of people had made way to just a few close friends at home. I also felt grown up, rejected the hype around birthdays. People felt irrelevant. I felt irrelevant to people. But thankfully, this feeling was superficial. Between 10 pm and midnight that day, I received 15 phone calls, from people who mattered. To whom, I mattered.

The Eighteenth
Ma donated the defining words to history: "I give you your freedom". Used in quote-unquote a million times since, I still haven't understood the drama around hitting 18. I remember feeling responsible. Feeling adult. That's the day, I think, I lost my freedom.

The Few Fun years
Characterized by Midnight Birthday surprises (which weren't surprising at all), big get-togethers, noisy celebrations. We made plans of the big life ahead, which was ironic since figuring what to wear in the morning seemed like a big decision then. I miss that.

2005
This was one birthday despite being surrounded by close friends and family, I felt alone. I remember being worried sick. Waiting for a call that never came. Agonizing about the future. About the present. About why I couldn't manipulate the past.

Last year
Hubby forgot my birthday. And I spent the whole day believing he was playing a prank and would wish me 5 minutes before midnight. At 230 am (Midnight IST), I realized that he really forgot. Will give him grief over it for ever and a day more. Hence etched it here.

Dad wrote a touching mail stating he never realized when I grew up from a small baby to an individual with a mind of my own. I chocked up after reading the mail.

This year
Pretentious as it my sound, I gift myself: a real yet surreal alter-ego, my nemesis. A new blog! The urge to write is killing me. Here's to new beginnings..

http://trashcanofthoughts.blogspot.com/

The Sitarist

Once upon a time, I used to play the Sitar. I learned for three-four years and practiced sincerely whenever I had the time. My assiduousness evoked no admirers in The Family. I was asked politely but firmly to close the door of my room whenever I fancied riyaz. It puzzled me why The Family (who claim to be such classical music fans) should object to my rendition of the ragas.

The answer came to me when I decided to tape my riyaz one day. When I replayed the tape, I was sincerely shocked to hear a pig squealing in the background. Further investigations revealed that the ‘pig’ was actually my sitar.

Clearly it was time for me and my sitar to part. Great was the sorrow at this melancholy moment and we all wept, my parents out of sheer joy and me with serious misery. A tall skinny man from the musical instruments shop had come to take it away. Thus ended my musical career.

I still get nostalgic when I see or hear a sitar. But then I tell myself that sometimes one has to sacrifice for the greater good of the people. I still have hope. Someday I shall play my sitar with finesse and the audience will not run away.

Seistas in the office

My dearest friend, SP aka "Nuts" is in Bangalore for a Conference. I played hookie from work and spent the day doing nothing with her. Nuts and I go back a long way. We were batchmates in B School and we 'summered' together in CGI and we also ended up joining it at the end of our two years of 'bijness education'. Needless to say, whenever we catch up a big part of our conversations involve reminiscing about the happy days when she, A and I spent much late nights at work and were always amused by the most inane things. Of course, a lot of reminiscing happens around our individual and collective 'most embarrassing moments' at the workplace! Looking back, we did seem to have quite a few of those!

This particular incident dates back to early 2002. That was possibly the worst (work-wise) phase in my not-so-young life. To say that I was dying with work would be a gross understatement. If it can be said thus- I was dead and rotting with work. Those were the weeks when I slept only 12 hrs..not per day..but per week!! And life was a constant swirl of airports and hotels with me having travelled to eight different cities in a span of three weeks! The only constant companions were my cell and my discman! Life was chaotic to say the very very least and most unpleasant!

Finally the chaotic travel wound up and I was back to office straight from Hyderabad after being out for around 25 odd days! That morning was particularly bad because I had woken up at 3 am and had hardly had any sleep at all that night! By the time I got into office I was a wreck! Sleep deprived, with too much caffeine in my system and faced with a long day of work, I was not the happiest person on the planet! Even with open eyes I could see visions of beds and sheets and pillows and such like.

So, I got into office, got some work done in my near-zombie state till lunch time. Post-lunch I could barely keep my eyes open. Seeing my pathetic state the boss came up with this rather bright idea. "Why don't you go nap for an hour?" At particular moment, she seemed to have a shiny bright halo over her head!

I did not need much convincing and so I checked up if the Conference Room was booked at all and finding out that it wasn't, I headed straight to it to take a much-needed cat-nap! Looking around the room, the only sleep-worthy place I could find was under the large glass conference table! I must have been a cockroach or some such in my previous life to actually seek out a bizarre place like that! But hey, I was sleepy and my brain was not functioning at full capacity!

So, I got under the table, curled up and went straight to sleep...dreaming of a nice, moonlit beach and the soothing sound of the waves (all thanks to piped music playing in office)..when suddenly I heard someone calling out my name! Thinking it was a part of my dream, I asked that person to shut up and leave me alone! Some voices are rather persistent and they don't seem to be able to obey someone! This voice kept calling out my name.

Finally I opened my eyes and looked up........ straight into the eyes of SUPER BOSS and his SUPER BOSS and a couple of clients who had suddenly dropped in for a meeting!!! In one smooth motion I sat up.... and banged my head hard against the conference table. I don't know what hurt more- the bump that was rapidly forming on my head or the waves of mortification that were washing over me!

I began to wish I were dead..or that I could become invisible...or that this was just some nightmare that would soon go away! Alas, it was none of that! I scrambled out from under the table knowing that a huge talking-to awaited me once these clients left!

Red-faced and thoroughly embarrassed, I scrambled out from under the table apologising profusely. When I finally stopped and looked up at the entire bunch, I found all of them smiling beningly.

Super boss looked at me and said to the others, "She's been travelling like crazy, the poor kid!" That was all the bunch of very senior people needed to hear. They simultaneously launched into this whole when-we-were-young-we-also-went-through-the-grind and some five stories of sleeping off during critical meetings and such were shared, no doubt to make me feel a little less embarrassed about the whole incident! I smiled gratefully at all of them and dashed out only to be greeted by my boss and my entire team who were collapsing with laughter!

Of course, for a long time several jokes which involved terms like 'sleeping her way through' and 'under the table negotiations' etc etc were cracked at my expense! The worst one (ranked thus in terms of the severe embarrassment that it caused) was cracked by none other than the Super Boss of the Super Boss. We were having a team meeting and a rather boring colleague was droning on and on and on about some very mundane rubbish. It was post-lunch and I was feeling slightly zzz-y. I covered my mouth and yawned when I thought no one was looking. But SB of SB was! He looked at me with a twinkle in his eyes and said, "S, if you are sleepy, feel free to help yourself to the third floor conference room. Sandra assures me that it is not booked at all for today!

Losing it

I'm putting on weight. And Anu's wedding is to blame.

The most annoying thing about putting on weight is that everyone tells me 'Good, you need to...' which is utter rubbish. I am (or was, until a month ago... I can feel an extra couple of kilos these days) at a medically-acceptable 54 kilos.

I especially resent it when family members tell me to eat up. For me, this weight issue has long been a delicate balancing act. I've come very close to the brink of getting all psyched and disordered.

Correction (take deep breath, remember, you're anonymous...) I DID get disordered. I still cringe to think of it. But yes, I went through a phase of yoyo-ing between anorexia and bulimia. I see my cousin sis, M, walking the same path, starving herself to death. I want to scream out to her and tell her to stop this madness but somehow I do not have the courage to tell her what dieting did to me.

This dates back to my college days. I was eating so little then that it amazes me now. Back then, all the girls competed with each other. Who could eat the least? I took to the sports-field with a vengeance. Not team-sports - I couldn't stand the 'discipline'. At any rate - our goals would be different. I didn't care about scoring goals. I wanted inches off my frame. So I worked out.

Erratic eating started taking it's toll. I began waking up exhausted. I began feeling breathless. But by the time I graduated, I was... well, close to 'sexy'. That's what they called me. Perhaps not beautiful. Perhaps not skinny. But sexy. Flat-sexy. Small-sexy. Sexy... how much it mattered, back then!

I thought I was okay. But once I let up on the workouts, I found myself throwing up. And I found myself reaching for food in scary, unstoppable ways. A pattern began to set in.... I started blacking out. I frightened myself, back then. I wouldn't tell anyone. My own family didn't know (They still don't). But I needed to sort myself out.

One day I managed to finish a half-kilo of jalebis all by myself (I had bought it for the family but finished it alone.) That was when I knew I needed help. I went up to my mother and told her that I felt the compulsive need to eat. Anything in sight. She gave me a book on eating disorders and asked me to check for other corresponding symptoms. I told her, no... Just this need to eat. I told her I was fine. I lied.

Eventually, I went to the doctor. Low Immunity. Low hemoglobin. Megloblastic Anemia. I was put on the usual tonics, but I knew the problem wasn't minerals and vitamins. Besides, I had had enough. Enough of competing with the skinny girls. Enough psychosis.

I'm done with the skinny-ambitions now. But the fear remains. And so, I watch myself... all the time. I don't let myself stray from the medically-approved 52 kilos. No less, no more. And I resent it when people push me into eating more. If only they knew what hell one goes through to lose it...

Living La Vida Horlicks

TK accuses me of hubby-bashing way too much. I tell her that until my life takes an interesting turn and I give up my desk-job and turn into some adventure-monkey, the hubby will be my primary victim. So here's one more to him...

Hubby has taken to drinking Horlicks at night. Yes, Horlicks (The Great Family Nourisher of India that usually kids below the age of 10 or expecting mother's drink). And I make it for him. People who know me know I am NOT the kind who mixes health drinks for family members who are not sick, however, much they might mean to me.

It all started when I have discovered an ancient relic: a jar of Horlicks with just 3 spoons left. I needed a jar badly to paint on (Don't ask for details, I'll save that one for another rainy day on the blog when there's nothing happening). So I emptied the bottle, mixed the remaining Horlicks in milk and gave it to Hubby to drink.(He can drink a LOT). Unfortunately, the Man liked it and in the next shopping trip, a full bottle replaced the empty one. I confess I did make it again as I longed to try a cuppa myself. I hoped this chore would transition to the rightful hands soon enough like making of the bed tea had.

Last night:
He: (walking into kitchen and standing around vaguely) This Horlicks at night is really good.
Me: *Furiously rearranging photos on Picasa and emailing people* Yes? Making a cup?
He: Hmmm. *taking a sip of water*. I could make it myself if you are busy.
Me: *Blow a kiss* (Come on, that's universal language for "Thank you Sweetie, you're the best, please go ahead)
He: *Poised with water glass in mid-air, waiting*
Me: *Blow another kiss* (Universal language for "Go on now. Why are we waiting?")
He: It's cool. Finish your emailing. Actually I think later is better.

Is this his second childhood or had he never passed out of the first one?!! Should I be worrying about the fact that he drinks Horlicks or the fact that I see many years of Horlicks-making in front of me?

Life is, well, it is what it is...

Sister can you hear me now
Ringing in your ears
I'm down on the ground
My luck's been tried for years

I'm lost in the dark
And I feel like a dinosaur
Broken face and broken hands
I'm a broken man

I've hit the wall
I'm about to fall
But I'm closing in on it
I feel so weak
On a losing streak
Watch my taillights fade to black
Taillights Fade (by Buffalo Tom)

Something snapped inside me yesterday. Somewhere in the middle of this huge life of mine, I have forgotten myself. I feel lost between my work, my family, my friends. I used to be happier, before I became who I am now. I never noticed I was going through some sort of change until last night, when the past year was put into perspective. I realized with a shock that it was really me, that I had actually done all those things, that I had deliberately changed my own life.

Hopelessness and "quiet desperation" might be the order of the day, but I know better. I've known unhappiness way too closely and way too many times to not learn undying optimism. To that I say Cheers! to me. :) "Everythings' gonna be alright"... Dory to Marlin in Finding Nemo

Call it growing up or growing real, but I suddenly hate using blogging as a vent to my frustration. And as always, I hate sounding like a crib pot! There's too much happening right now. Here's to the hope that things will sort themselves out.

And they will indeed. Monsoons are here, the grass is lush green, the flowers are in bloom, the birds are chirping. My tiny garden looks fantastic (although it is too early to say if the crabgrass will rear its ugly head with all the rain). My herbs are growing. The Oleander, Colocasia and miniature Erethrena look beautiful in the front. The hydrangeas with their pink and blue flowers are a delight to watch.

Got a new breakfast table for the balcony overlooking the garden and recessed lights in the living room and study. Meeting missy moi aka PS for lunch on Monday. It's been too long. Way too long. I can barely wait..........

"Keep swimming"... Dory in Finding Nemo

Reality Check

We sit cuddling together in front of the TV, cheering for Schumi as he wins the European Grand Prix. The romance is not yet lost, I think blissfully to myself. Maybe we should go on a trip somewhere in the mountains. No friends. just us. I might even do the weekly grocery shopping alone today as a nice gesture, knowing how much he hates to shop.

Breaking my flow of thoughts, Hubby abruptly says, ‘Remember you promised to make me some tea. Can I have some now?’

I’m aghast, but pout, "You want hug or tea?’ He thinks and constructs his reply slowly, ‘Both’.

I get up to make tea for the most tactless guy I know. "Now get your lazy butt off the bed and get the bags ready to do the shopping."

These are a few of my favourite things...

Pandora totally Rocks...
I’ve been tinkering with Pandora the last couple of days, and I am hooked. For the uninitiated, Pandora is an online streaming music service that suggests additional music based off your initial suggestions and your opinion of what it plays. The operators of the service have catalogued tens of thousands of songs based off distinguishable criteria. The result is effective: in the first hour of use, I discovered several new bands I love based off one song of input.

Further, while a song is playing, you can either tell Pandora that you like the song, don't like the song, or you can add it to your favorites. It keeps track of songs you mark as favorites. With all of this information, your Pandora radio station evolves to your tastes. If you like more than one genre of music, you can add multiple radio channels for each genre. It's just a fun, cool, very likable tool (omigosh, I rhymed again—what's with me today?). Check it out and see what music Pandora helps you discover!

Konfabulator, now Yahoo! Widgets
Yahoo! widgets have completely changed the way I use my computer on a daily basis. For those of you who don't already know what a widget is, they are "little files that can do pretty much whatever you want them to. Widgets can be alarm clocks, calculators, can tell you your WiFi signal strength, will fetch the latest stock quotes for your preferred symbols, and even give your current local weather." The great thing about Yahoo widgets is that you can run as many as you want, but they don't slow down your computer; and of course the best thing is that they are completely free.

For instance, I’ve got a MiniPlayer, a compact and tiny audio player, on my desktop right now that plays music from my PC or the radio whenever I click it. I have a Day Planner that tells me what I need to do today and a Zonal Clock to know the time in different time zones around the world.

Soduku: My latest Addiction
I confess I am addicted to Soduku these days. I do them while travelling to work. I do them at home when I'm watching TV. I do them when I should be sleeping. I can't stop. It's a fixation. I've become obsessive-compulsive about them.

I just discovered Web Sudoku, where there are, seriously, billions of puzzles. In four difficulty settings. All fully printable. I do, maybe, six of these a day at work, when I have actual work I should be doing. On days when I'm bored, don't even get me started. Now I understand why this Japanese brainteaser has taken the world by storm. The only way to get over this game is probably to start the next one, Kakuro, which is supposedly more difficult than Soduku.

Another time pass has been my Rubik's cube....I have re-discovered the joy of playing with it after almost 2 decades, and trying to understand the mathematics behind solving it.

The Week-end Ends...

It’s been a terribly busy week-end albeit extended one with the Labour Day falling on Monday. But I barely realized when it flew past me and here I am once again on the threshold of a new week.

Went for a whirlwind trip to Coorg (also known as the Scotland of India) with hub and his buddies. Had the most fabulous time despite the heat and the crowds. It seemed like the whole of Bangalore had ascended on Mercara. We visited the Abbey Falls, Madhikeri Fort, Valanoor Fishing Camp, Nisargadhama, Talakaveri and the whole nine yards. We stayed at a quaint coffee estate converted into a guesthouse. Madikeri was rather uneventful except for some awesome milkshakes and spats with the local traffic cops for breaking a "NO Entry" sign, which wasn't there in the first place. :)

On the way back, we stopped at the Dubare Elephant Camp, wherein a large part of the fun is just the proximity with the tuskers and lazing in the shade. The most enticing part of this leg of the trip was to bathe the elephants. Here are some of my favourite shots.


















Met up with old buds at TGIFs last night, and noticed something very interesting -

They have this exhaustive cocktail menu. I'm not into drinking, but for a change, decided to drink; I picked something called 'PS - I love you'. The drink lived upto its name. It is like 'Love' itself:

* It comes in really tiny quantities, in tiny containers (relatively speaking).

* It is foul-smelling, in essence, but is masked with edible fragrances... they had to, or no one would buy it.

* It is over-sweet in a thick, viscous sort of way, but the sweetness is over-emphasized to mask the extreme bitterness of at least one of the ingredients.

* It is pink!

* Once you have tasted it, you are glad there's so little of it... you'd get very sick if you consumed large doses of this weird concoction.

You look at what the others are having - larger, less bitter, smoother, watered-down.. and you always, always, regret not having made better, intuitive choices.

Miss me much?

Hola!!! Spare me the glares, mutters and after-how-long looks!! I know.. I know.. Do forgive. I had work and lots of it. So much that I've actually been zoning off in the middle of conversations because I'm thinking up points for a presentation. I have been meaning to post about my brother's wedding but work kept me away. Anyways, I am here now, so here goes...

My little bro married his sweetheart on April 20. Eight years of love and commitment culminated into a lifelong bond. He and N are a great match and I am really proud of him for doing the right thing and standing by her.

The wedding was a blast! 4 days of fun, gossiping or "catching-up" as the aunts called it, halla-gulla shor sharaba and nachna gaana. There was total mayhem, pandemonium even.. Truly, there's nothing to beat a "family wedding"!!!! The entire mad and ...er.. slightly khandaan was in attendance, 3 generations in all from the funny mamu to the short-tempered nana chachu to the gossipy mausi. Met scores of relatives who I never knew existed (and who were all very knowledgeable about me and my various childhood preferences and talents ["You could eat five ice creams before I could say Peekaboo!", "You once ate 4 plates of Poori and then you had most of my halwa too!", "You sang Midhundas songs all the time !!"..erm..(what the?!)..and so on]).

The ‘ghadholi’ was on April 17th, where all the aunties, bhabies and sisters apply ‘haldi’ to the groom. This does get a bit nasty cause they literally tear the groom’s clothes off. Bro was seen running along the swimming pool section holding on to his shorts. while the bhabies were after him, trying to get it off. After this chaos, we have the sisters and bhabies filling up clay-pots with water…with this groom has to take his bath.

Mehendi lunch was on April 18th with the bride side (again the first of it’s kind. We usually have separate functions). Here we had the ‘mehendiwalies and (some)walas’ along with few ‘chudiwalas’. So all the ladies went crazy over the mehandi and bangles, while the men were busy munching on the food and deserts. Once again, no wedding function is complete without some "dance shance". We had the ‘dhol-walas’ and the whole crowd got into the spirit of things and did an impromptu ‘filmi-ishstyle govinda’ dance.

Morning of April 19th saw us decking-up for the Sangeet and Cocktails (scheduled for the evening). Cousins opened a mini beauty salon at home. Moi in my peacock blue backless Lehenga Choli was the star of the evening. There was gaana bajaana, dancing and entertainment!!! Yours truly danced to gajra re, which incidentally got a lot of applause and requests for a repeat performance!! (Pointed Look!!)

On the wedding day, we had the "pagdi" and "ghur chari" function, where all the men have turbans placed on their heads along with the groom. Just before the ‘baraat’ is about to leave for the wedding place and the groom is about to sit on the ‘horse’. The sisters braid the horse’s hair or put kajal in the groom’s eyes. And then the baraat starts walking cum dancing towards the wedding venue.

The main wedding was at Le Royal Meridien. A typical Monsoon Wedding!! The timing couldn't have been more perfect!! Just as the baraat was getting ready to leave, the clouds burst over a sizzling Bangalore!!! Leastways, everyone got into the spirit of things and we did a rain dance all the way to the reception hall!! Then we had the old formalities, Jaimala, pheras, vows et al.

N looked gorgeous in her shimmery fresh green grass lehenga. Bro said yes to the seven vows so seriously, it almost made me cry!!! Ah, who am I kidding, I did!!! It was just beeeeeeooooootiful the wedding - will scrounge for pix and upload - hey, this is still the wedding of the year so pix are valid all the way till December.

While the wedding didn’t happen strictly according to family traditions but post-wedding, the family decided to follow the rituals to the T. So, after the vidaai when N came home and the Grihapravesh rituals were completed, she was asked who she would like to sleep with. Needless to say, she almost died! Knowing about a certain black-sheep slutty uncle in the family, who is known to have had some 25 girl friends in his salad days, she thought it was some twisted little family tradition where she had to choose who she could sleep with! Luckily for her, while my family is crazy, it is not that crazy!

Actually, according to the customs, the newly married couple is not supposed to spend the first night at the guys house together. It’s called some ratri. So, it was decided much against A’s wishes that N would sleep with Nani Chachi. N looked positively freaked; this was not the kind of first night she had imagined! But ultimately M (cousin sis), N and I slept in the same room. However, N had the last laugh when the next morning a couple of her friends called to ask indecent questions about the first night and she, rather gleefully, told them she had slept with her husband’s sisters!!! The love-birds left for their honeymoon to Malvides on April 22.

Ma handled the wedding pressure very well even though she looks a tad tired today and slept most of the day. She missed her radiation this week.. something which I am not very happy about. She was really the life of the wedding. Pulling everyone together and dancing to Mujhe Buddha mil gaya. She seemed so happy and carefree. La vie - c'est vraiment bizarre! C'est difficile, très difficile, mais on survivra!