I finally managed to finish Upmanyu Chatterjee's The Mammaries Of The Welfare State. The book's been lying around for a while now. Though I had set my heart on reading its prequel, English August, which I couldn't locate at Blossoms, had to settle for this. Though the time of the night when I read the following lines was not technically 3 A.M, it did feel that way. But once I read these lines, I was laughing helplessly! And so, I produce them, verbatim. If your sense of humour is not crude enough to appreciate it, my apologies.
Did he spit in the urinal while pissing?
Or sigh audibly, and invoke a God, while leaning forward, resting his head against the tiles, gazing down and playing a sort of billiards with the naphthalene balls in the bowl with his jet of urine as the cue?
The best part of this was, I have actually seen people do both of this! ;) Those of you who have read the very first post of this blog, might remember that it was about my observations, at the men's room. And I can vouch, that people actually do this stuff! ;)
Monday, June 30, 2008
My Laughter Dose At 3 God Damn A.M. - Part I
Well, after a coupla RD Isspecial, amazingly self derogatory posts, I thought I'd write about these two things, that brought a genuine smile, errr, no, no, make that, made me laugh hysterically!
It was like 0245 hrs, on a weekday. I was just about ready to drop dead on my bed, when S pings me. He wants a Hindi song, translated! Am like, WHAT! Its 3 in the bloody morning, and you want a bloody song, to be bloody translated? Can't this wait till bloody morning?
But it turned out, that the lady who S had given his heart away to (without the damsel really being interested in it) had dedicated this song to him, and it was imperative that he know what she wanted to tell him, before he could sleep peacefully! And so, it had to be right then.
Grudgingly, I asked him to forward the song to me. I should have smelt a rat, when I saw the file had no name, just an undecipherable number. But assuming the lady in question, to be one of the family of vulpes vulpes, I hit the download button. And after 3 odd minutes of sleep induced impatience, finally had the song enqueued on WinAmp. What I heard, for the next coupla minutes, had me rolling on the floor! And I am not bullshitting you. I was actually on the floor, rolling, laughing uncontrollably.
I reproduce the first coupla lines here, without any translation. If you can't read Hindi in an English script and understand it, too bad for you. (Note : This was playing, with the background score of a typical T-Series bhakti song)
Na Baans Ki Bansi, Na Sone Ka Sariya, Bas Gaand Mein Danda, Gaand Mein Danda!
P.S. I don't think I need to tell you, what was S's reaction, after I translated that for him! ;)
It was like 0245 hrs, on a weekday. I was just about ready to drop dead on my bed, when S pings me. He wants a Hindi song, translated! Am like, WHAT! Its 3 in the bloody morning, and you want a bloody song, to be bloody translated? Can't this wait till bloody morning?
But it turned out, that the lady who S had given his heart away to (without the damsel really being interested in it) had dedicated this song to him, and it was imperative that he know what she wanted to tell him, before he could sleep peacefully! And so, it had to be right then.
Grudgingly, I asked him to forward the song to me. I should have smelt a rat, when I saw the file had no name, just an undecipherable number. But assuming the lady in question, to be one of the family of vulpes vulpes, I hit the download button. And after 3 odd minutes of sleep induced impatience, finally had the song enqueued on WinAmp. What I heard, for the next coupla minutes, had me rolling on the floor! And I am not bullshitting you. I was actually on the floor, rolling, laughing uncontrollably.
I reproduce the first coupla lines here, without any translation. If you can't read Hindi in an English script and understand it, too bad for you. (Note : This was playing, with the background score of a typical T-Series bhakti song)
Na Baans Ki Bansi, Na Sone Ka Sariya, Bas Gaand Mein Danda, Gaand Mein Danda!
P.S. I don't think I need to tell you, what was S's reaction, after I translated that for him! ;)
My Big, Fat Bongaru Dreaming
Bad! Bad! Bad! It was a bad combination, right from the beginning. A restless mind, accompanying a permanently broken heart, with a hyperactive imagination, at an all time low self esteem, a 13 year old teenager trapped inside the body of a 25 year old prematurely aging man, watching a romantic comedy where the underdog finally takes the cake!
Phew! Not even the Mad, Mad Hatter could get it so wrong. But then again, RD is a world apart. A genius, if you will. And this is how, I got down to watching My Big Fat Greek Wedding.
A nice, sweet, funny romantic comedy. Thoroughly enjoyable. I think there's something magical about the whole Cinderella story, for us Low Self Esteemed folks. Its like a beacon in the dark, unfriendly, loneliness of this world. A haven, where you can safely hide, and indulge in your fantasies. Tell yourself, again and again and again, that you are not a loser. Your just a Slow Starter. And maybe, maybe, if you are lucky, you'll start to believe it yourself!
Phew! Not even the Mad, Mad Hatter could get it so wrong. But then again, RD is a world apart. A genius, if you will. And this is how, I got down to watching My Big Fat Greek Wedding.
A nice, sweet, funny romantic comedy. Thoroughly enjoyable. I think there's something magical about the whole Cinderella story, for us Low Self Esteemed folks. Its like a beacon in the dark, unfriendly, loneliness of this world. A haven, where you can safely hide, and indulge in your fantasies. Tell yourself, again and again and again, that you are not a loser. Your just a Slow Starter. And maybe, maybe, if you are lucky, you'll start to believe it yourself!
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
My Emotionality
Its definitely an insult, and there's no question about it. No. None at all. However, what remains to be answered is, why couldn't they be a little more subtle about it? Zor ka jhadka, dheere se lagta.
So, it all started when Ms. Na(Iyer) and The N, let me know, that they thought I was a very Emotional kinda guy! I was like, What??? I wouldn't mind an Ass. I wouldn't mind a Jerk. I wouldn't even mind a Loser. Those can all be repackaged as something of a compliment, in a sense that the Complimentor wouldn't even have intended. But think about it. An Emotional Guy? Jeez! I can't think of even a single comback from that!
And so, I decided to go about proving to these two silly women, that RD is NOT an Emotional Person. Don't ask me why it hit so hard, but it did. So I stopped wishing good morning to all and sundry that I meet from 8 in the morning, to well past noon. I substituted a smirk for my smile. The usually flippant compliments that I usually dish out in plenty, were shelved in the back burner. To sum it up, I tried to imitate the more conventional, the more acceptable (though prejudiced) behaviour of the people of my sex.
Now before you go off wondering if I am seriously as loony as I sound, hold on. This was just a joke for me. Been in an emotional roller coaster for a while, and well, nothing better than some role playing, to get the good, ol' RD, back up and about.
But the funny part was, it didn't work. No. No. Let me rephrase that. It couldn't have worked. I had probably got it all mixed up in my head (and why doesn't that surprise me no more?) I wasn't really trying to get rid of the Emotional tag. No. Don't think so. I was trying to get rid of the implications that are brought on, by that word. Yes. That sounds closer to the truth.
You see, in my mind, I have word associations. Some words are good, and some words are bad. And what is the logic behind this classification, you ask me? None. Absolutely None. Nada. Zilch. The classifications are derived from my subconscious. No logic. No sense. Just impulse. And in my mind, Emotional is the same as Weak. And that is classified Bad.
So, there I was, trying to prove to myself that I was a Strong, Angry Young Man (what was I thinking, Amitabh Bachhan???), with not a care in the world. But the irony of it all was, that I was the opposite, the perfect anti Hero, of the guy I was trying to be! I am RD. Which means, that by definition, I am none of those cool things. I am weak, I am old, I can't take nothing seriously, I laugh hysterically when I am under stress, I am the funny guy you love to hang out with when your down and low and then move on when you feel better. I am all these things and more. And somewhere deep down inside, I think I have been running away from it, for quite a while now.
Was thinking about these things, for a major part of Sunday. Spent a lot of time, in that quasi sleepy mode, when you are half aware of everything around you, but not completely. Nice, dreamy, slow state of mind. That's when a lot of stuff goes through my head, and I try and think things through. Didn't help much, but I felt a little better about being me. I still harbour the same insecurities, the same prejudices, the same flawed outlook on life. But in a weird way, it doesn't feel so bad no more!
So, it all started when Ms. Na(Iyer) and The N, let me know, that they thought I was a very Emotional kinda guy! I was like, What??? I wouldn't mind an Ass. I wouldn't mind a Jerk. I wouldn't even mind a Loser. Those can all be repackaged as something of a compliment, in a sense that the Complimentor wouldn't even have intended. But think about it. An Emotional Guy? Jeez! I can't think of even a single comback from that!
And so, I decided to go about proving to these two silly women, that RD is NOT an Emotional Person. Don't ask me why it hit so hard, but it did. So I stopped wishing good morning to all and sundry that I meet from 8 in the morning, to well past noon. I substituted a smirk for my smile. The usually flippant compliments that I usually dish out in plenty, were shelved in the back burner. To sum it up, I tried to imitate the more conventional, the more acceptable (though prejudiced) behaviour of the people of my sex.
Now before you go off wondering if I am seriously as loony as I sound, hold on. This was just a joke for me. Been in an emotional roller coaster for a while, and well, nothing better than some role playing, to get the good, ol' RD, back up and about.
But the funny part was, it didn't work. No. No. Let me rephrase that. It couldn't have worked. I had probably got it all mixed up in my head (and why doesn't that surprise me no more?) I wasn't really trying to get rid of the Emotional tag. No. Don't think so. I was trying to get rid of the implications that are brought on, by that word. Yes. That sounds closer to the truth.
You see, in my mind, I have word associations. Some words are good, and some words are bad. And what is the logic behind this classification, you ask me? None. Absolutely None. Nada. Zilch. The classifications are derived from my subconscious. No logic. No sense. Just impulse. And in my mind, Emotional is the same as Weak. And that is classified Bad.
So, there I was, trying to prove to myself that I was a Strong, Angry Young Man (what was I thinking, Amitabh Bachhan???), with not a care in the world. But the irony of it all was, that I was the opposite, the perfect anti Hero, of the guy I was trying to be! I am RD. Which means, that by definition, I am none of those cool things. I am weak, I am old, I can't take nothing seriously, I laugh hysterically when I am under stress, I am the funny guy you love to hang out with when your down and low and then move on when you feel better. I am all these things and more. And somewhere deep down inside, I think I have been running away from it, for quite a while now.
Was thinking about these things, for a major part of Sunday. Spent a lot of time, in that quasi sleepy mode, when you are half aware of everything around you, but not completely. Nice, dreamy, slow state of mind. That's when a lot of stuff goes through my head, and I try and think things through. Didn't help much, but I felt a little better about being me. I still harbour the same insecurities, the same prejudices, the same flawed outlook on life. But in a weird way, it doesn't feel so bad no more!
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
My Take On Wonder Boys
I think this movie would have hit the right spot, in my heart, irrespective of when I'd watched it. I don't particularly like cliched movies, but I don't get particularly affected by bad reviews either. And when I read that it was about the relationship of a boy and his idol, I knew I had to watch it.
It was with considerable annoyance, that Manish once complained to me, that the primary source of concern for our society was the drastic way in which we have radically changed the criteria for our idols. The learned, the wise, are passe. The savvy, the uber cool are in. And the scariest part of it all, is the fact that the parents, the ever vigilante, the supreme resistors of change in any society, have failed to even notice this slow but complete change in our minds, our attitudes.
So, I didn't find it very surprising, when one day, (and I must admit here that Wonder Boys did have more than a passing influence on my decision) I decided to try and stay with a teacher of mine, and didn't get very agreeable responses from some of the people who I care for, whose support, at times of distress, I rely on. However, it was amusing.
Amusing in a way that I could not even comprehend. While no one really had a strong reason as to why I shouldn't, everyone seemed to be certain, that it wasn't a good idea. When pressed, I got replies that bordered on absurdity. And though I found the whole deal to be vaguely reminiscent of unfound biases and prejudices that people usually harbour, and hence, not to be given much of a second thought to, I couldn't help feeling amused. Feeling very amused.
It was with considerable annoyance, that Manish once complained to me, that the primary source of concern for our society was the drastic way in which we have radically changed the criteria for our idols. The learned, the wise, are passe. The savvy, the uber cool are in. And the scariest part of it all, is the fact that the parents, the ever vigilante, the supreme resistors of change in any society, have failed to even notice this slow but complete change in our minds, our attitudes.
So, I didn't find it very surprising, when one day, (and I must admit here that Wonder Boys did have more than a passing influence on my decision) I decided to try and stay with a teacher of mine, and didn't get very agreeable responses from some of the people who I care for, whose support, at times of distress, I rely on. However, it was amusing.
Amusing in a way that I could not even comprehend. While no one really had a strong reason as to why I shouldn't, everyone seemed to be certain, that it wasn't a good idea. When pressed, I got replies that bordered on absurdity. And though I found the whole deal to be vaguely reminiscent of unfound biases and prejudices that people usually harbour, and hence, not to be given much of a second thought to, I couldn't help feeling amused. Feeling very amused.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
My Rants...
I feel like am an Automaton. And no, I don't use that word as a joke here, I mean it. Yesterday was the fourth consecutive day, when I ended up with a very unusual (read : unRD'ish) day. Lots and lots of things, just didn't make sense. This is not me. This cannot be me! Having spent 25 odd years with myself, I think I know what it feels like, being me. And the last coupla days, have so not been the same! Ok, wait. Before I start senselessly ranting, let me jot down my thoughts objectively. Maybe, it will help me clear my head, maybe it will simply serve as the catalyst I need, to set things right, again.
Now, what convinced me that something wasn't the way it should be, were :
(a) Eating only one square meal a day and not feeling hungry. And though I am known to skip meals often, this is unheard of, even by RD Standards. Only breakfast. And not even feeling it. Not like me. Not like me at all.
(b) No Dreaming. And this is the part that hurts the most. Curled up under the bed reading a Three Investigators book; a decade back, or working late in the night tapping away at some ungainly javascript; now, my dreams have always been there with me. I can dream with my eyes open, I can dream while speaking to someone (when my brains shuts off), I can dream while riding, I can dream while pretty much doing anything. I have a pathological need for them, my dreams. Its my escape from the drab world that I am often forced to be a part of. But for the last coupla days, I can't even replay my dreams in my mind!
(c) No Working. I usually put in a solid coupla hours at work, after I get home. Just keeps me going. The mind numbing Bozocity that I have to bear throughout the day, saps me of my enthusiasm and energy, and I have to rely on my working at home, to rejuvenate myself. And yes, you've guessed it. Haven't been working at all, lately.
(d) Sleeping Early. I did all my sleeping that I could possibly need for a good whole lifetime, in my first, miserable year at college. I had no computer, I had no family, I had no friends. My only refuge then, was sleeping, and sleep I did. Like a drunk. But ever since I got out of there, I don't sleep much. Or atleast, not to the same extent as I used to, for that one year. But day before yesterday, I slept almost 12 hours, at a stretch, and I regularly doze off, in the afternoon as well.
What amuses me is, the fact that I am aware of this all, and yet, I just don't feel like doing anything about it. Absolutely nothing. I know that all I gotta do is just start doing things from my regular routine, force the mind to listen to the will, and it will all be good and fine, before long. But I couldn't.
The other day, woke up really early in the morning, while REM was singing Losing My Religion, and tried very hard to think things through, sort things out. But nothing materialized. I couldn't even get my mind to concentrate. Kept getting distracted. Finally, irritated, I gave up, and went back to sleep.
The whole idea of writing it all down, was to take another shot at it. Maybe, now I will feel humiliated to get things back on track. Maybe, I will feel the need to prove that I am in Control of my life, and get back to being me. Or maybe, it was all a waste of time. Just another outlet for the egotistical, emotionally dependent scumbag me. I don't know.
Now, what convinced me that something wasn't the way it should be, were :
(a) Eating only one square meal a day and not feeling hungry. And though I am known to skip meals often, this is unheard of, even by RD Standards. Only breakfast. And not even feeling it. Not like me. Not like me at all.
(b) No Dreaming. And this is the part that hurts the most. Curled up under the bed reading a Three Investigators book; a decade back, or working late in the night tapping away at some ungainly javascript; now, my dreams have always been there with me. I can dream with my eyes open, I can dream while speaking to someone (when my brains shuts off), I can dream while riding, I can dream while pretty much doing anything. I have a pathological need for them, my dreams. Its my escape from the drab world that I am often forced to be a part of. But for the last coupla days, I can't even replay my dreams in my mind!
(c) No Working. I usually put in a solid coupla hours at work, after I get home. Just keeps me going. The mind numbing Bozocity that I have to bear throughout the day, saps me of my enthusiasm and energy, and I have to rely on my working at home, to rejuvenate myself. And yes, you've guessed it. Haven't been working at all, lately.
(d) Sleeping Early. I did all my sleeping that I could possibly need for a good whole lifetime, in my first, miserable year at college. I had no computer, I had no family, I had no friends. My only refuge then, was sleeping, and sleep I did. Like a drunk. But ever since I got out of there, I don't sleep much. Or atleast, not to the same extent as I used to, for that one year. But day before yesterday, I slept almost 12 hours, at a stretch, and I regularly doze off, in the afternoon as well.
What amuses me is, the fact that I am aware of this all, and yet, I just don't feel like doing anything about it. Absolutely nothing. I know that all I gotta do is just start doing things from my regular routine, force the mind to listen to the will, and it will all be good and fine, before long. But I couldn't.
The other day, woke up really early in the morning, while REM was singing Losing My Religion, and tried very hard to think things through, sort things out. But nothing materialized. I couldn't even get my mind to concentrate. Kept getting distracted. Finally, irritated, I gave up, and went back to sleep.
The whole idea of writing it all down, was to take another shot at it. Maybe, now I will feel humiliated to get things back on track. Maybe, I will feel the need to prove that I am in Control of my life, and get back to being me. Or maybe, it was all a waste of time. Just another outlet for the egotistical, emotionally dependent scumbag me. I don't know.
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