Friday, May 15, 2015

A Post About Pinterest, Crotch Traps And Assholes. There Is No Method To My Madness, Sorry

I have been on Pinterest for what feels like a million years now.


Every now and then I come across craft ideas that look deceptively simple and I will pin them. But when I think about it I get really worried that people who look at my pins will now assume that my house will have these awesome things. And disillusionment is one of the worst things you can inflict on anyone so I pin away and decide to live a hermit life, nobody gets invited to my house anymore, thank you Pinterest. 

Because if they came to our house they would know that it's a fucking mess even without trying to be. I can colour code my bookshelf and throw away the junk, clear out the tiny garden in the balcony and  there would still be more mess creeping out...like some weird gravity defying oil spill. At this very moment, as I type this, let me describe to you how the computer works. No it isn't by pressing the button on the CPU, that's so passe. We simply have to yank the two wires that spring out of the CPU from the back (the button is defunct  our mechanic tells us) and we have to pretend to be like ape men trying to light a fire by rubbing stones... and join those two wires and magic...comp's on. Hurray. Day is saved. 

 "That's okay, but can you please give us a switch mould we could fit these wires into? so it doesn't look like a science experiment every time we try to turn our computer on?" I beseech. "Sure thing, " the mechanic promptly responds. "I'll get you the switch tomorrow evening at 7 p.m" It's 9:30 a.m the next day, I guess we're getting stood up. 

I like to think of it as a back-to-basics thing.

I tell my budding-engineer baby brother how we're turning into engineers based on every day circumstances and he sends me a recording of a self-composed Bengali song about dreams and this photo: 



This is supposedly an exam question 


I tell him that that looks like an awkward crotch trap and he should totally study hard and set the crotch free. 

Crotch traps apart...mom and I we try...we really do. Last week she couldn't find two of her sarees and turned 5 of our almirahs upside down(yeah 5 almirahs for two people and there are still stuff lying around the house, we are terrible hoarders). 

I found a ragged old blouse piece that she never uses and did the following: 


Try and Be Impressed. Okay? 
It's my work diary. All my colleagues have the same kind, so I thought mom's old blouse sleeve border would be my marker.  Yay Pinterest? 

Speaking of work, I kind of had an epiphany: 


Assholes. All of us have one. I don't know how it came to be an insult. But I guess it's like an equaliser right? Like when you want to call someone an asshole and then you realise you have one too, so you have to keep reminding yourself to at least try and not stoop to the level where that body part kind of becomes your defining factor. I guess what I'm trying to say is we are all potential assholes but we better just try and keep the chemistry with the commode and not people. It's kind of gross. 

I am going to stop typing now. 

You are welcome. 

Thursday, May 7, 2015

Hugging Hulk

I've adopted a plant. No really.



It's what mom got for World Asthma Day (May 5). I never had the gardening bug in me. I don't even know what these flowers are called. Tried to do a Google search of the image, ended up doing those "what flower are you" quizzes instead. (FYI: Lily). 

But I've been going to the districts quite a bit over the past year. It started with Haldia...Tamluk...Mahishadal..(I've written about it here) 

Then a sunny winter morning found us in Jejur, a small hamlet tucked away in Hooghly. 

This year we made a short trip to the naval base in Diamond Harbour and yesterday work took me to Dhapdhapi a rugged unforgiving block in Baruipur. 

But there was green...my God was there green. There were jackfruits, jamruls hanging low and litchis...pink effervescent litchis (careful, my colleague warned me. This is an arsenic infested area...guess what's watering those fruits. ) I don't care I thought to myself. Death by arsenic. So.Be.It. 

And so I've been shaken out of the many clouds that my head usually tucks itself into. Let's see if I have green fingers. (Because then I qualify for Hulk's girlfriend too right? He's hot)

Here's to growing some roots... here's to giving in to the little bits and pieces of the maternal urges that I know are kicking in...It comes with age, I suppose... This need to protect, preserve and hold dear to oneself.

Updated: The aunt has finally come to the rescue. The plant is called Vinca or Periwinkle or old maid. Seriously. Old Maid. And you know what? We're going to do just fine old maid and I. Just fine. 

Monday, May 4, 2015

May The Force Be With You

I was wondering about May. I kind of like May. It's at that precarious edge where it's not half a year yet and there's the heady mix of summer, freshness even (the heat hasn't gotten half as unbearable as June and July).

More importantly, to me, May is the month of hope...of taking things in your stride and accepting them. 

 I accept that I am not the bunk-your-work-and-travel-for-fun kind of person.  I like rules, adhering to them even. So this month I stay at home and follow business as usual as the mother and the aunt enjoy a trip to Ladakh. Of course the repercussions of the earthquake and a host of other worries cloud my mind while mom makes excited calls to the travel agent and hunts suitcases for that one woollen garment that she knows would be ideal for Ladakh. It's dizzying being near her at this time, infectious even. 

I realise that this might mean that there won't be any vacations for me this year...

But that's okay because I get to  spend  more time with the city. Every day...I  fall in love with it a little more. 


A Sliver of A Fair 


It's nothing magnanimous really...I'd be walking down a quiet, lit up lane, there'll be an occasional whirring of a bike passing me by, a random kid running along...and I'll look up at the sky and the moon will take me by surprise...against the dark sillhouette of the houses. It is sharp and golden  and calming like a little glob of amrutanjan balm on a lingering headache... 

That's when I know the city has my heart in its blanket of dreams, in all its familiarity and it's constant urge to just...be. 


Saturday, April 18, 2015

Gainsbourg and His Sweet Lies

A friend of mine shared this song with me: 



It's totally not safe for work. 

The first time I heard it I was a little traumatized. 

Second time: ...huh...I want this guy to whisper sweet nothings into my ear. I wonder what he's saying. 

So I googled the translation, this is what I got : 

"You go, you go and you come 
  Between my back 
  You go and you come 
   Between my back 
  And I rejoin you" 

I asked my friend if the song was really about anal sex. 

F: Wtf are you talking about? 

Me: I want to know what Gainsbourg is singing. Because I want to imagine he's singing all that to me. 

F: He doesn't say he's going and coming between your back.

Me: oh good. 

F: He says he goes and he comes between your kidneys. 

Me: umm what?

F: reins is french for kidneys. Renal...see? 

Me: why does Gainsbourg think going and coming between kidneys is romantic? :O

F: It's actually meant to be abstract. You can't think of it in the literal english sense.


And the weird thing is that the  song is stuck in my head. I've been humming about kidneys the whole day. Bet that was the whole point of it, to make you hum about kindeys your entire day. And now I don't think I'll be able to pee without getting slightly turned on.  Gainsbourg was one sneaky bastard. 


Friday, April 10, 2015

To Float Or To Swim- Summer Is Here And So Are It's Many Dilemmas!

Last Sunday was a bit of a rude shock.

Came very close to disappointing the only people in my life who  will, still sadly stay...despite all the pain I cause them because they are made of stern uncoditional stuff. 

But thankfully through the course of the week I realised that this time I had been spared and probably shouldn't have been as worried and fretful as I was on Sunday. But I'm glad I was. Because that's how we make changes. Stop and think instead of drifting along like life was never meant to serve any other purpose. 

Here's what Hunter S. Thompson wrote on the matter: 

" ...And indeed, that IS the question whether to float with the tide, or to swim for a goal. It is a choice we must all make consciously or unconsciously at one time in our lives. So few people understand this! Think of any decision you've ever made which had a bearing on your future: I may be wrong but I don't see how it could have been anything but a choice however indirect- between the two things I've mentioned: the floating or the swimming..." 

So, I choose to swim now. Because I'm done floating. It's been great though, no regrets. 

Onwards Friends! Thanks for being patient as always :) 

I realise this post could be termed completely vague...in that there are no details. But I think that would bore you. 

Here's something specific though: 

These are the books I'm currently reading. And I needed some place
to keep them together instead of lying around all over
the place like they usually do. 
Mom: did you just invert a tool and make it into a bookshelf? 

Me: Yes, not just any bookshelf, a portable one at that. This is how I get famous. Ikea should probably hire me. 

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Downtown Abyss

You learn something new every day right? So I learnt that those black trays that you slide in and slide out and keep your keyboards on...are called adjustable keyboard trays. I bragged about that to my mom and she just looked at me and sighed.

That kind of condescension makes me uncomfortable though. Like when I forget to carry my pencil box to work, and I need my pendrive which happens to be in my pencil box. So I have to end up using someone else's pen drive? And then I come back home and find out that I had my pencil box in my bag the whole time? Does that make me a klepto pen drive hoarder? 

Someone get me a new pair of glasses and some extra pen drives. Please.

Speaking of things that make me uncomfortable...are books that don't fold properly...you know so when you're reading it eats up words so you have to unfold it so you can finish the line properly? I mean yeah fine I can guess that the materia will end in materials but why do you still want me to? Do I look like someone who would enjoy that sort of thing? 

My Boss has made it quite clear to me though that all this uppity uncomfortableness will go away if I had a rollicking affair and bring back the "much needed focus in your work, D". (I let her believe this was brilliant advice but the thing is,even if I did have an affair I'd probably end up falling in love with the poor chap and he'll run away scared and that would be one more thing in the list of shit that makes me uncomfortable.)   I wanted to clarify that my work has nothing to do with this. Work-wise, this isn't a phase. I'm just generally lackadaisical and she should probably fire me but I thought I'd leave that oscar winning monologue for a more opportune moment. 


I realise this post is rather sad. But I've been dealing with feeling sick and generally low for the past two weeks and I'm sort of glad that the sickness cloud has passed over. The  lowness is still here though.

So I'm doing what I usually do: watch beauty tutorials on YouTube and read Zomato comments...till I feel better.


 This reviewer literally zoomed out of "the hugest heartbreak"
 after trying out  "spicy sauces"...I'll have what she's having ;)

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

This Post Is Trying So Hard To Be Generally Aware

Modi's hot right? 

Why am I having these dreams about him? Tell me he's hot or that I'm not losing my mind. 

I mean of course I know you're supposed to know that Arjun Rampal and Akshay Kumar are the hot ones. 

But that's standard hot? I guess? There should be standards of hotness. And now I'm thinking about these little holograms on all these guys with hot and un-hot marked on them.  I'm going to jail, you guys.  Not that that's a big deal anymore. I could be sitting in a fancy restaurant in Mumbai, having a nice beef steak and kaboom! jail. It is of course beside the point that I cannot afford a beef steak in a fancy ass restaurant in Mumbai, right now. I can afford shoes though. Leather shoes to be precise. That's a good thing because I'm always on my feet and when I come home I can cuddle with a jar of peanut butter and thank Modi and dream about him? Full circle, bitches. 

Unrelated, I don't understand the Ed Sheeran madness? I mean I watched a video and came out thinking wow this dude really can lift a girl...a lot. And who is she... does she have a Twitter account? I want to know what she has for breakfast.

Also, just found out they're banning 50 Shades of Grey in India which is sad because then you'd have to go watch the movie for the plot...that's like watching your daily soaps for current affairs.