Hangover. The movie. Go watch it. Now.
Hangover (n). Aftermath of too much drinking. Don't ever have it. Again.
You'll end up feeling worse because you didn't have as much fun as the guys in the movie.
What an awesome ride - rip-roaringly hilarious, unapologetically funny, completely exciting, and intelligent as hell. Grown men in various states of undress, a masturbating baby, a gay Chinese gangster and Mike Tyson air drumming to a Phil Collins song. Todd Phillips is the man! I came out wishing I would be born a man in my next life so that I can adjust my balls in public and get a blow job in an elevator. Movies can really be aspirational!
Last time I had a hangover and couldn't remember anything from the previous night was about 4 years ago. I had to be shown a video of what I done. All I could remember was waking up with my head on an empty (thankfully!) plate at some point and later, trying to fly back home.
Apparently, there was a lot of hugging the men I knew, kissing the bald heads of men I did not know and dancing, with the then husband, to a medley of songs that my friend played on his guitar. In my defence, I have no problem hugging or kissing the bald heads of women. It just so happened that I was the only woman at this party, and no, it was not a bachelor party and I wasn't the entertainment highlight! Just a regular old Saturday night in a place I like to call the asshole of the country.
So, while I couldn't remember a thing the next day, it took me 5.5 hours to lift my head off the pillow and another 2 to make it to the bathroom. Where, unfortunately, there was no tiger waiting.
Friday, July 03, 2009
Friday, June 26, 2009
Quiet Cups of Coffee
Blue clouds and quiet cups of coffee
Are all I see now in my dreams
And all I can hold with these hands
No more falling down endless stairs
And clutching on to slippery rails
Those straight lines you drew,
They no longer exist
Or define and shrink to fit
This life inside and out
Or the sweet torment within
And those crazy jagged circles,
They're all gone too
They've crept into their tiny holes
Leaving you standing outside
Blue clouds and the quietest cups of coffee
Are all that rise and fall now
In my dreams,
And upon this old windowsill.
Are all I see now in my dreams
And all I can hold with these hands
No more falling down endless stairs
And clutching on to slippery rails
Those straight lines you drew,
They no longer exist
Or define and shrink to fit
This life inside and out
Or the sweet torment within
And those crazy jagged circles,
They're all gone too
They've crept into their tiny holes
Leaving you standing outside
Blue clouds and the quietest cups of coffee
Are all that rise and fall now
In my dreams,
And upon this old windowsill.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Come to My Window
Crawl inside, wait by the light of the moon
Come to my window, I'll be home soon...
- Melissa Etheridge
I have this strange feeling. It's a bit like falling in love for the first time but not quite. There is all the anticipation but none of the euphoria. It's like reconnecting with an old love but not quite. There is the warm familiarity but none of the blurry history. It's like making a new friend but not quite. There is the eagerness to learn more but not the desire to be on one's best behaviour. It also feels like bumping into an old friend but again, not quite. There are all the comfortable silences but none of the secret rituals of the past.
Come to my window, I'll be home soon...
- Melissa Etheridge
I have this strange feeling. It's a bit like falling in love for the first time but not quite. There is all the anticipation but none of the euphoria. It's like reconnecting with an old love but not quite. There is the warm familiarity but none of the blurry history. It's like making a new friend but not quite. There is the eagerness to learn more but not the desire to be on one's best behaviour. It also feels like bumping into an old friend but again, not quite. There are all the comfortable silences but none of the secret rituals of the past.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Love in the Spin Cycle
It's funny how you go through the stages of love in the exact opposite direction from a load of dirty linen in your washer.
When you first fall in love, it's exactly like the crazy spin cycle; all topsy-turvy, screaming and buzzing for attention before screeching to a halt. You can't get enough of each other, your hands always touching over the table, your toes always meeting under, and when you're not together your ears are always stuck to the phone and your names on each others lips. Its fast and frenetic pace is enjoyed only by the two of you while the rest of the world watches from the outside waiting to turn the switch off. In the washer, that only happens after the clothes have been soaked, tossed and turned, washed and rinsed to death.
The next stage in love happens exactly like the rinse cycle; slow and rhythmic at times, sometimes dull and droning, and sometimes altogether fast and furious threatening to spin out of control. Then once again it simmers down to that quiet steady rhythm. You know you've reached a plateau, you know everything there is to know about each other's dogs and cats and potted plants. Then one day you glance at the newly-in-love couple at the next table and decide it's time to revive that old magic. So one of you flips thru the latest issue Cosmo or even one back from 1979, it really doesn't matter, while the other calls up an ex-flame for romance revival tips. Now you're good to go but only until you hit the next plateau...
That's when you know you're ready for the wash cycle; the one your favourite bed spread and 3-day old towels go through right at the beginning. It seems quiet and steady at first, fooling you into thinking it's still the rinse cycle. But then the movements that had begun in fits and starts suddenly settle down to such a disturbing silence that you begin to wonder if there is a pulse left at all. You're miles away from the initial roller-coaster ride, there are no more screams and shouts except in your dreams and you wonder when the soap suds began to dissolve. Before you know it, you find yourself in water (sometimes hot) and the squeaky clean days of yore are now just one big tangled mass of dirty linen.
And so you come out the exact opposite of how you went in - all soapy and dripping wet. A far cry from sweet smelling lavender fabric softeners and fluffy dreams fluttering away gently as they dry out on the clothesline.
When you first fall in love, it's exactly like the crazy spin cycle; all topsy-turvy, screaming and buzzing for attention before screeching to a halt. You can't get enough of each other, your hands always touching over the table, your toes always meeting under, and when you're not together your ears are always stuck to the phone and your names on each others lips. Its fast and frenetic pace is enjoyed only by the two of you while the rest of the world watches from the outside waiting to turn the switch off. In the washer, that only happens after the clothes have been soaked, tossed and turned, washed and rinsed to death.
The next stage in love happens exactly like the rinse cycle; slow and rhythmic at times, sometimes dull and droning, and sometimes altogether fast and furious threatening to spin out of control. Then once again it simmers down to that quiet steady rhythm. You know you've reached a plateau, you know everything there is to know about each other's dogs and cats and potted plants. Then one day you glance at the newly-in-love couple at the next table and decide it's time to revive that old magic. So one of you flips thru the latest issue Cosmo or even one back from 1979, it really doesn't matter, while the other calls up an ex-flame for romance revival tips. Now you're good to go but only until you hit the next plateau...
That's when you know you're ready for the wash cycle; the one your favourite bed spread and 3-day old towels go through right at the beginning. It seems quiet and steady at first, fooling you into thinking it's still the rinse cycle. But then the movements that had begun in fits and starts suddenly settle down to such a disturbing silence that you begin to wonder if there is a pulse left at all. You're miles away from the initial roller-coaster ride, there are no more screams and shouts except in your dreams and you wonder when the soap suds began to dissolve. Before you know it, you find yourself in water (sometimes hot) and the squeaky clean days of yore are now just one big tangled mass of dirty linen.
And so you come out the exact opposite of how you went in - all soapy and dripping wet. A far cry from sweet smelling lavender fabric softeners and fluffy dreams fluttering away gently as they dry out on the clothesline.
Friday, June 19, 2009
The Memory Pit
It's been 20 years since I got out of school and I can still feel my way around every nook and cranny of that place in my mind. It seems cruel to call them just memories when everything is still so fresh and vivid, my heart and head sometimes still dancing to those beats. It's like bouncing up and down in a colourful playball pit. The higher you jump, the deeper inside you fall and it just gets softer and warmer.
"Why boarding school?" A woman, whose daughter I used to tutor, once asked me. "Were you sent there as a punishment for being naughty?" I'm not sure what answer I gave her back then but now I sometimes think that maybe having to come back home was the punishment!
Almost anything and everything can get me in a school daze! I just have to close my eyes and everything springs back to life -
How we revelled in midnight feasts in the dorms, hiding cans of smoked ham and sausages inside stinky gum boots in the Shoe Room...
Settled our "scores" on the basketball and throwball courts...
Hung out at Mount Echo, just above the Basketball Court, playing with the latest brood littered by Rula the sweeper's bitch...
Whiled away our time in the Big Court before study hour in the evenings and on Sunday mornings when everyone else was watching Mahabharata on telly in the AV Room...
Planned secret rendezvous with the ice-creamwallah at Cliffdel; two bucks for a vanilla or pista cone and a pricey Rs 4 for a chocolate or strawberry...
Skated and jived in the gym on Friday nights during "Rec" and on rainy days...
Jumped into the Small Court out of sheer boredom on those same rainy days and got bitten by those monstrous dogs who should have been out for their Sunday walk...
Climbed out on to the ledge and peeked into the Chem & Physics lab before "pracs" so we knew what experiments to expect (for Physics it was always that goddamn Vernier Calliper)...
Walked among the clouds on Tableland and blew rings in the mist (a skill that would be put to a not so healthy use later!)...
Sat by that hunchback of an old tree at the edge of Tableland and listened to songs playing in the distance; the "Warriors" blasting Brothers in Arms or Money for Nothing on their boom box trying to impress us "Convent" girls...
Gazed at the Krishna river from Sydney Point...
Hung out at the "buzz" and bought mushy cards from Unwallas or "Unnis" as we called it...
Ate hamburgers at Lucky's, cheeseburgers at Russo's and chicken frankies at Paradise...
Cycled down to Sandy Banks and God's Valley belting out the Sound of Music OST...
Climbed up from God's Valley to Devil's Kitchen and then spilled over once again to Tableland, my absolute favourite place...
Spent precious pocket money (Rs 5 at first, then 10 and finally 15 as we reached the senior classes) at fetes while mooning over the boys from Billies and Peters...
Dedicated Madonna songs like La Isla Bonita and Holiday to each other at the same fetes...
Sigh... It's been 20 years and I haven't gone back even once. Not once.
"Why boarding school?" A woman, whose daughter I used to tutor, once asked me. "Were you sent there as a punishment for being naughty?" I'm not sure what answer I gave her back then but now I sometimes think that maybe having to come back home was the punishment!
Almost anything and everything can get me in a school daze! I just have to close my eyes and everything springs back to life -
How we revelled in midnight feasts in the dorms, hiding cans of smoked ham and sausages inside stinky gum boots in the Shoe Room...
Settled our "scores" on the basketball and throwball courts...
Hung out at Mount Echo, just above the Basketball Court, playing with the latest brood littered by Rula the sweeper's bitch...
Whiled away our time in the Big Court before study hour in the evenings and on Sunday mornings when everyone else was watching Mahabharata on telly in the AV Room...
Planned secret rendezvous with the ice-creamwallah at Cliffdel; two bucks for a vanilla or pista cone and a pricey Rs 4 for a chocolate or strawberry...
Skated and jived in the gym on Friday nights during "Rec" and on rainy days...
Jumped into the Small Court out of sheer boredom on those same rainy days and got bitten by those monstrous dogs who should have been out for their Sunday walk...
Climbed out on to the ledge and peeked into the Chem & Physics lab before "pracs" so we knew what experiments to expect (for Physics it was always that goddamn Vernier Calliper)...
Walked among the clouds on Tableland and blew rings in the mist (a skill that would be put to a not so healthy use later!)...
Sat by that hunchback of an old tree at the edge of Tableland and listened to songs playing in the distance; the "Warriors" blasting Brothers in Arms or Money for Nothing on their boom box trying to impress us "Convent" girls...
Gazed at the Krishna river from Sydney Point...
Hung out at the "buzz" and bought mushy cards from Unwallas or "Unnis" as we called it...
Ate hamburgers at Lucky's, cheeseburgers at Russo's and chicken frankies at Paradise...
Cycled down to Sandy Banks and God's Valley belting out the Sound of Music OST...
Climbed up from God's Valley to Devil's Kitchen and then spilled over once again to Tableland, my absolute favourite place...
Spent precious pocket money (Rs 5 at first, then 10 and finally 15 as we reached the senior classes) at fetes while mooning over the boys from Billies and Peters...
Dedicated Madonna songs like La Isla Bonita and Holiday to each other at the same fetes...
Sigh... It's been 20 years and I haven't gone back even once. Not once.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Three Sides
Theres three sides to every story:
Yours and mine and the cold, hard truth
From Long Way Home - Don Henley
Read this in an old Rolling Stone interview of the Floyd after the split. Waters actually quoted it while shedding light on his side of the tale. It got me thinking... There will always be 3 sides to every story because there will always be different perspectives. I know my side of the story and I can only imagine what his side is but I'm really really curious about the all-important third side. The cold hard truth about what really went wrong. Or maybe it just wasn't right to begin with?
Yours and mine and the cold, hard truth
From Long Way Home - Don Henley
Read this in an old Rolling Stone interview of the Floyd after the split. Waters actually quoted it while shedding light on his side of the tale. It got me thinking... There will always be 3 sides to every story because there will always be different perspectives. I know my side of the story and I can only imagine what his side is but I'm really really curious about the all-important third side. The cold hard truth about what really went wrong. Or maybe it just wasn't right to begin with?
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
A Spring of My Own (with a few flecks of autumn)
So I ended up going out for lunch on Saturday and it turned out to be great. We went to this old Chinese joint that I hadn't been to in ages. I think I last went there around 15 years ago with an ex. I couldn't even recognise the interiors of the restaurant but from the looks of it I'm pretty sure nothing's changed! Sometimes I think that I may not even recognise this ex if I bump into him. But he is the sweetest guy I've ever known and I often wonder where he is now and what he might be up to. He last called me up years ago, just after I had gotten married. It was my birthday, I think, and he called to tell me that he had just became a dad. A son, I think it was. I wonder if there are any more... He's the only ex I've kept in touch with by choice, even after we had broken up.
Reminiscing apart, the lunch was actually superb except for their horrible version of the Lung Fung soup. We had yummy wontons, which were first steamed and then sauteed in a spicy sauce, paper wrapped chicken, steamed rice with veggies and a delightfully simple salt and pepper chicken. Went back to the pad and yammered on about the cruel vagaries of fate that everyone seems to suffer. On a very superficial level though, because this time I sensed an ocean of calm within me and tried to share it. Couldn't bear to see the tears in her eyes. I can see life getting better for me now, and I just want the same for her.
Decided to go home on Sunday to meet the folks. Was surprised to find my brother there as well. We talked a bit, or rather I talked and he just shut his eyes and pretended to be asleep. He opened his mouth just twice and both times it was to say some sharp stuff. It's funny how that would have affected me earlier, but now it just makes me smile. He doesn't know what I know, unfortunately... That apart, Sunday was great with Mom and Dad as it it usually is. I think they're less anxious now and are slowly coming to terms with it all. Am waiting for the day when they will finally understand that what they now perceive as misfortune is actually the best thing to have happened. And not just to me, to us as a family.
Also got my stash from Kashmir on Sunday - green kahwa leaves, almonds, walnuts, dried apricot and fig. My evening tea ritual just got a whole lot better. I've been brewing the kahwa with clove, cinnamon and cardamom and pouring it over chopped almonds and saffron. Divine! And with the rains around the corner, it's just going to go down even smoother.
It's almost the middle of another week and I'm more aware of the changes than I've ever been. This time I can actually see myself turning into the person I'm supposed to be. I may never be married again and I may never have a child of my own, but I'm much happier now than I was when one of these was true and the other was an actual possibility!
Reminiscing apart, the lunch was actually superb except for their horrible version of the Lung Fung soup. We had yummy wontons, which were first steamed and then sauteed in a spicy sauce, paper wrapped chicken, steamed rice with veggies and a delightfully simple salt and pepper chicken. Went back to the pad and yammered on about the cruel vagaries of fate that everyone seems to suffer. On a very superficial level though, because this time I sensed an ocean of calm within me and tried to share it. Couldn't bear to see the tears in her eyes. I can see life getting better for me now, and I just want the same for her.
Decided to go home on Sunday to meet the folks. Was surprised to find my brother there as well. We talked a bit, or rather I talked and he just shut his eyes and pretended to be asleep. He opened his mouth just twice and both times it was to say some sharp stuff. It's funny how that would have affected me earlier, but now it just makes me smile. He doesn't know what I know, unfortunately... That apart, Sunday was great with Mom and Dad as it it usually is. I think they're less anxious now and are slowly coming to terms with it all. Am waiting for the day when they will finally understand that what they now perceive as misfortune is actually the best thing to have happened. And not just to me, to us as a family.
Also got my stash from Kashmir on Sunday - green kahwa leaves, almonds, walnuts, dried apricot and fig. My evening tea ritual just got a whole lot better. I've been brewing the kahwa with clove, cinnamon and cardamom and pouring it over chopped almonds and saffron. Divine! And with the rains around the corner, it's just going to go down even smoother.
It's almost the middle of another week and I'm more aware of the changes than I've ever been. This time I can actually see myself turning into the person I'm supposed to be. I may never be married again and I may never have a child of my own, but I'm much happier now than I was when one of these was true and the other was an actual possibility!
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