I Won, I Won, I Won!!

...Though not at poker, sadly, where I'm continuing on a month-long losing streak. Sigh. BUT! Even better! I won the competition being held by FriendsOfBooks for Meenakshi Reddy Madhavan's new book: Confessions of a Listmaniac. Eeeeeeee. Okay, so I'm being all fan-girl here, but I can't help it... I've followed her blog for..oooh 4 years now, and then loved her first book, You Are Here, and now I'm one of the 3 winners selected to get a signed copy of her new (and undoubtedly hilarious) book. Say it with me: Eeeeeeeeeee!

The competition involved listing the things we love (d) and hate (d) most about being teenagers. After straining to remember that far back, I was able to come up with a few pros and cons of teenage-dom: hardly a set list, but what came back to me with the most startling, laugh-inducing, pain-in-the-chest-in-a-good-nostalgic-way clarity. With a few additions, here's what I wrote:-


LOVED

- The excitement that came with a crush, and the thrill of seeing the object of my affection, however fleetingly!

- Meeting with friends in corridors in the too-short time span between the school buses arriving and the assembly bell, and catching up on what we missed in each others’ lives in the past 16 hours (6 hours, if you count from when we FINALLY got off the phone).

- How EVERYTHING was of vital importance!

- That the little things mattered the most: the biggest concern was whether or not I'd pass maths; the main goal was to ensure my skirt was at JUST the right length to make melook good and not incur the teachers’ wrath; the highlight of the day was when my crush talked to me and didn’t even bat an eye at his friends’ hooting and catcalling.

- The ability to talk on the phone for 5 hours straight and still feel that there was plenty more to be said.

- The single, everlasting moment before my first kiss.

- That "being there for each other” and ”having your back” and ”unswerving support” weren’t just random terms, but actual qualities prevalent in a circle of friends.

- Sleepovers at friends' places and sneaking out for parties - is it just me, or did it make the party SO much more fun knowing you weren't supposed to be there?

HATED

- The double-standard and labeling that was prevalent when it came to romance…no matter how much they did, the boys were studs; no matter how little they did, the girls were sluts.

- Getting my period and having to wear a white uniform in summer…talk about constant fear!

- That popularity mattered so much to some people that they’d treat those who were different (too tall, too thin, too fat, too pimply, too brainy, too poor) with extreme cruelty.

- How easy it was for teachers to judge students only based on marks and not personality, efforts, extra-curriculars…

- The people who'd gossip for the sake of it, with no basis or regard to truth: so at the age of 15 I had a random girl in the school bathroom, who had no clue who I was, telling me of my own purported exploits - boob job, threesome with 2 guys at a party, sleeping with the Head Boy. On the plus side, her face when I introduced myself was PRICELESS! :)

- How emotions were so extreme that a break-up felt like the end of the world (maybe that’s not just a teenage thing, though).

What about you? What did you love and hate most about being a teenager?

I Should Have Saved The Title For This Post…

… instead of using it here. Ah well, I’m not the weather bureau, and hence couldn’t predict that I’d want to recycle my witticism (scant and obtuse though it may be) for commenting on Cyclone Phet, which I lived through unscathed. Having survived 2 cyclones now with minimal damage (I don’t think a leaky bedroom window and TV transmission disappearing for 2 hours counts for much), I have to say this one was definitely milder than Gonu…rained on and off for a day-and-a-half, infrequent wind gusts, and a death toll in the low (mercifully) double-digits (may they rest in peace).

I think it’s just that all the ongoing construction in this place is disturbing the flow of the wadis (dry river beds) and playing havoc with the natural drainage system of the land. Or could be that before this, the land never saw the need for natural drainage, what with being a desert region and glimpsing rainfall once a year, if that. Whatever it is, the place floods up quicker than a stoppered bath-tub, and all activity virtually ceases, with work shutting down, schools closed and international exams cancelled (CFA – boy, are people unhappy about that!).

How different from Bombay, when, far from shutting down, the city would exult in the torrent! Even then, we’d trudge through to college (yay for living town-side and not in the suburbs), go sit at the CCI or get soaked on Marine Drive (of course, gorging on hot buttered corn or pakoras all the while). None of this stay-home-off-the-streets-avoid-bridges stuff. And really, what’s the point? Two days later, and we’re back to 50-degree scorching heat.

Makes me long for the unrelenting week-long downpour of a good old Bombay monsoon.

Enough With The Waterworks Already

The moons are perpetually aligned wrong, or something, because whenever there is an important moment in my brother’s life, I’m always PMSing – and therefore terribly prone to blubbering at the drop of a hat. At least last night I wasn’t the only one (blubbering, I mean).

My baby (he hates that) brother graduated from high school last night, and for the first time I understood how the phrase ‘bursting with pride’ came to be coined. From the moment we walked in the gates and introduced ourselves as his family, the staff and other students beamed at us and commended us on the “wonderful man that he is.” My mind boggled, and I swear, the words were on the tip of my tongue – he’s not a man, he’s a little boy! But he didn’t look it last night, in his cap and gown, with his degree in one hand and the prize for ‘Highest Academic Distinction’ in the other.

I know this is like flogging a dead horse, and just re-iterates everything I’ve said here, but I can’t help it. He’s grown up too fast, he can’t be 18 already, he was just heading off to ‘big boy school’ yesterday, just crawling backwards last week! WTF? And in September he’ll be headed off into the wilds of…well, God knows where, but still…away. He’ll be away. From me. Oh crap, let me go get the Kleenex.

Honestly, I don’t know how parents deal with their kids growing up. Kudos to my mom and dad – they’re running through less tissue than I am.

Beautiful Dangerous

Is it just me, or is Slash & Fergie's "Beautiful Dangerous" the ultimate stripper song? Very 80's nostalgia (G'n'R, of course) or Coyote Ugly-ish. Undeniable gorgeous guitar riffs, though. Of course, that goes without saying when it's Slash. Deep, it ain't. But definitely a fun song!

I don't know who you are now:
Mystery drenches my brain.
I wanna jump deep into your mouth,
Cuz something tell's me it's gonna rain.
.
I hear the drum rolls thumping,
And my heart starts jumping,
And that's when I spit on the floor...
Now my head's exploding,
And your gun is dirty,
So I'm guessing I'm on a roll.
Well it's a fine time,
Looking for a wine time, man,
And you said "baby you ready to play?"
Well come right on this rollercoaster,
Cuz it aint over, it aint over.
.
Now we're on this planet,
I'm in love with all your dangers (dangers)
We can live foreverI can be your favorite angel (angel)
Beautiful dangerous....
.
We acted smooth like rain...
Save all flame that we'll light.
You can be sick, I'll be nasty...
Cuz sometimes it's more fun to fight.
.
I hear the drum rolls thumping,

And my heart starts jumping,

And that's when I spit on the floor...

Now my head's exploding,

And your gun is dirty,

So I'm guessing I'm on a roll.

Well it's a fine time,

Looking for a wine time, man,

And you said "baby you ready to play?"

Well come right on this rollercoaster,

Cuz it aint over, it aint over.

.

Now we're on this planet,

I'm in love with all your dangers (dangers)

We can live foreverI can be your favorite angel (angel)

Beautiful dangerous....

Would You, Really?

Want to be immortal, I mean?

This isn't anything to do with my aeons-old vampire fetish, but rather a book R lent me to peruse while I was sick and recuperating at home last week: The Book of Skulls by Robert Silverberg. I'm not a die-hard science fiction enthusiast, but despite being tagged under Sci-Fi Masterworks, I'd classify this book as more occult and mysticism, with a lot of study-of-human-nature thrown in.

The premise is this: 4 boys in their final year of college set out on a cross-country trip to Arizona to locate a sect shrouded in secrecy and mystery: The Brotherhood of the Skulls. According to ancient but reliable texts discovered by one of the boys, the Brotherhood offers the gift of immortality to those who seek it, but with a few catches: those questing immortality must present themselves in groups of 4; they must stay the course of the initiation without informing the outside world; and of the 4 only 2 will survive "for the price of life is always a life". Sinister stuff, no? Half the book is comprised of their journey there, and the thoughts of each one - I loved how the author alternated between each boy and allowed us a detailed (and often disturbing) travel through each one's psyche.

The book had me alternating my views on whom I wanted to live or die, and I think that disturbed me more than anything - playing God even in that small measure, judging and weighing each of those fictional characters' lives and decisions and flaws and failures. Stupid, I know, but the tone of the book is such that it makes you question so many, many things - including yourself. Brilliantly written. Any book that gets me to question beyond who, what, where, when and why deserves all the awards and accolades out there.

The end lived up to my expectations, but all through the book, I kept asking myself: would I? Given the chance, would I WANT immortality? For me, the answer is no: simply because I wouldn't want to live out forever without the people I love by my side. The book (and R) expostulates the myriad possibilities : discovering new things, learning every day, mastering new crafts, greeting the dawn of new centuries - new millennia even! To which my simple answer is: what is the point of all that if you don't have people to share it with you? Give me a few good decades with everyone I love and I'll gladly forego forever.

What about you? What if you could choose to live forever? Would you?

Just Because I Need To Complain....

...doesn't mean I can't do it in rhyme :)

I'd give all the money I have to just take a nap;
I think I'm coming down with the flu, I feel like crap.
There's rivers of snot pouring out of my nose,
And I feel sick from my head right down to my toes.


Phlegm has clogged up my throat and deepened my voice,
And every cough makes a tremendous thunderous noise.
My trumpet-like sneezes evoke no sympathy, no pity:
They’re so loud they make elephants seem dainty and pretty.


But worst of all is the look on my face:
Part stoner, part loner, part alien from space.
I’m blotchy and red and look like I’m holding in my pee,
Oh this cold really will be the death of poor little me.

Et tu, Shashi Tharoor?

Honestly, I don't know whether I'm more disappointed that he's been accused of being a crooked politician or an unfaithful man.

Like it wasn't bad enough reading about David Letterman, Tiger Woods, John Edwards, Jesse James, Steven Seagal....

What is wrong with men? Why can't they keep it in their pants??