Friday, November 4, 2011

So, what?

There were these girl and guy sitting next to me on the bus, and they were discussing the state of politics in India; the girl was saying that in her opinion new anti-corruption laws should be made which will look only at the future scams, and ignore all the old ones. What did I think: I thought her voice was SO screechy! And I also thought they were talking shop.

That's how I have become now; I don't care. About so many things. Sure I read the newspaper, but that is limited to the pink paper (occupational hazard), and the trash paper (easy on my attention span).

I don't care about most of the national news, that and this morcha, nothing - because I am a hard boiled cynic now. Here's my justification: living conditions get worse (atleast in Mumbai and Hyderabad where I have lived), I still cannot get a certificate from the government without having to make half a dozen visits to various offices (or pay an agent), Hyderabad has become a filthy joke made by TRS and others, arre even movies are getting increasingly atrocious.

So yes, I don't care because I am not very optimistic about happy change: roads are going to be bad, the metro rail is not going to come in this decade, public transport will be painful, government offices are never going to be pleasant, and no movie review will be reliable.

So what will change this sad state? I don't know. But something will, I believe. And I also believe we (I) will know when it comes. Much like how we'll know when Vishnu's 10th incarnation will mount his horse and draw his sword to kill the demons of the Kalyug.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

The attraction of that cheesy serial on TV

Nearly 100% of the female population I know watches Bade achche lagte hai on Sony, if not everyday, about once a week atleast. The Husband, when he comes home that early and the serial is on, makes a disgusted face and says something like "tum bhi!" (Haan bhai haan!)

There is not a shred of doubt that the serial is crap. Most of the actors are horrible, the story is weak, like coffee the Husband would make, the romantic lead is obese, the two lead characters are borderline obnoxious, and all humour is contrived. Basically everything is bad, at the best.

The attraction, I think, is the promise of (cheesy) romance... the kind where the obese boy and skinny girl are teased about going on honeymoon, and everyone blushes; where the mere touching of hands is an oblique reference to making children (and makes a week's worth of episodes). Obviously all the blushing, hand-brushing,eyelid batting, 2mm twisted mouth-spreading for a smile is all relevant only till that Maha epsiode where the leads are drunk and / or thrown into life threatening circumstances and their estrogen and testosterone levels finally go through the roof. After that, I wouldn't watch this piece of crap anymore.

Where (the hell) have the non-cheesy romantic movies gone? The last movie I gushed over (internal gushing only) was probably Godavari (Telugu). There was Swades, Dil Chahta hai, Bridget Jones Diary (hehe, yes!), even Gharshana (Telugu version of Force). All I see now is either non-existent (Mere brother ki dulhan, Dookudu), bromance (Delhi belly) or sod (most of the most movies touted as louve stories; I saw Kurbaan only recently, thought it was yucky).

So next time you see someone watching Kuch to log kahenge or equivalent; hold your contempt, and get off your silly little high horse.

PS: Are you remembering that I am sort of newly married, and think it is funny that I should be a sucker for something like this? You are still unmarried, aren't you? Wait for my seminal work titled "Debunking the major myths about marriage".

Friday, June 10, 2011

Food: the good high-giver

Food is so much in the centre of so many things; weekend plan revolving around where / what to eat, happiness in the anticipation of cheese and chocolate, extreme anxiety over what to cook when guests come over (this, I hope shall pass and quickly), and (people from husband's side, kindly jump to the next para) 'healthy debate' with NA about why the wife alone needs to take the responsibility of cooking.

Apparently, we are what we eat; which makes me a true cosmopolitan. The relative who never experiments with non-Indian cuisine is some sort of a xenophobe, while Curl Head II is definitely the xenophile; Mittal, who tries to go the healthy way is de nouveaux, while the uncle who makes a face at as much as whole wheat bread is going to be fat. All of us who louve maggi (maggi, maggi, maggi!) are easy, non-demanding people, and Sage, who doesn't eat enough maggi even in hostile Gurgaon, is probably gonna be a pain-in-the-backside husband :D

This brings me to something I discovered only recently: I never thought I would care much about cooking tasty stuff, but here I am trying day after day to make fluffed-like-bubble gum-rotis! How can one with such strong louve for food be a serving non-descript fare to someone else!!

So, looking for some recipe online landed me on a website for Andhra food, and I now long for Vadiyala pulusu, and gongura pachchadi. Oh and also a cheese cake.



Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Confessions of a callophobic

Google says that Telephone was found in late 1800s, and it took about a century for its wide, widespread acceptance globally. I should have been born sometime in that period!

While there are other things that I tend to be lazy about, nothing comes to close to my aversion towards making calls. It is quite strong, unexplained, rather horrible and always embarrassing. My new year resolution for 2010 and 2011 was to call regularly and everything, and the improvement is still too minute to be perceptible to naked eye. Infact, I have started to take the offensive now: told Curl Head II that I am horrible at making calls, and that she shouldn't feel bad that I didn't call!

While friends telling me that I am something animal-like for not calling would make me less guilty earlier, everyone's been "oh, you must be busy adjusting to the new life" since the wedding. While it is true, I could (ok, should) have managed to call.

So, Pramod Khanchandani, if I don't call you today, emmm.. I will call!




Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Arranged happiness

I remember Curl Head II and I reading this blog of a guy analyzing (at great length) the shortcomings of an arranged marriage. I didn't agree with most of his theories anyway, but nothing poofs them more than some recent happy faces.

Mr. and Mrs. Bade log looked happy and many other nice things on Monday! So did Mr. and to-be-Mrs. Seth.

So here's to all sorts of marriages! (It really is not the case wishing my pain (I first said plague!) onto everyone, no, not today! :))

Monday, May 16, 2011

Miserable love?

Fact: NA likes to think that I like to be miserable sometimes.

Proof of my magnanimity: That may be true!

So my last gloom was about how little life changes for men even after they get married; it was triggered by NA leaving for office as usual (keyword: as usual), and lasted till evening. It was after a happy moaning session with Dilli-ki-gau that I remembered all the good things about NA, about being married, and it was back to sunshine already!

Real sadness comes unannounced really, and only just weighs on you, without any drama. Like getting a recently passed away and much loved uncle's birthday alert on email. We miss you Peddayya.

Point of this post: Want to write.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Uncomplicated

Increasingly feel the need to uncomplicate - taking things at face value and leaving it at that seems to be the best shot at peace.

That said, I met an unbelievably unidimensional person recently and ended up getting extremely infuriated. The almost godly demeanor, derision towards everybody with an independent (or not) mind, and complete lack of non-slapstick humour made her seem so archaic. Somehow, I felt that acting like she was old as Tyrannosaurus Rex was a source of pride for her.

I alternately wanted to doze off and argue for almost all that she said, just that she wouldn't care either ways. She plodded on with random observations and jokes regardless of my complete lack of interest. Some character, that.