Naughty, naughty
I sneaked off for an hour this evening to pretty up my feet. I have a huge event coming up this weekend, and though I’m the organizer, hell… a woman’s got to look good, don’t she? I mean, what if someone accidentally films my toes through my covered shoes?
I feel so pleased with myself. I told everyone I’m off for a meeting, and headed straight for the parlour. I’ve been hugging my secret to myself ever since I got back, and now, you guys can hug it too.
*giggle* I feel like my teacher’s going to pull me up for not doing my homework. Do you think she’ll let me off if I show her my painted nails?
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Friend, Companion, Best Buddy.
Even seven years after she’s been gone, every time I think of her, I either smile, or begin to giggle – she was just completely awesome.
She was small made – very, very petite – and a real lady. She'd turn her nose up at things that were below her dignity, and oh yea... that list was long! No bread without butter, no rotis without ghee, no sleeping on the floor, no sitting or lounging on the floor even. She would make long, graceful leaps onto various sofas and beds, and she would insist on curling up by my waist at night. I welcomed her cool fur in the summer, and her warmth in the winter.
I got used to going about my tasks single-handedly, literally. She’d sit on one forearm and rest her chin on my shoulder, using it as a vantage point to rule her little kingdom. Yes, she was definitely queen of our home – you couldn’t even enter or leave without saying hi or bye to her.
She was a grinny, cheery thing to the family, but a horrendous terror to the outside world. Guests were mortally terrified by her, and she was put inside a room anyone came (intelligent dog that she was, she learned to obediently trot inside the room every time the doorbell rang) And despite her size, she also terrorized all the neighbourhood dogs. Heh heh, she’d crawl under them and nip their bellies in self defense. Who said size mattered?
I could go on and on, but I’ll just stop now. All of you who love dogs, go eat some chocolate / give your dog some chocolate / revel in the feel of silk today. Or simply just give your dog a hug. That’s what she liked best.
Bosky, a big squeeze for you!
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(Whatever you do) Don't do that
Then of course there were people that I was completely enamored by, but who didn’t last my list longer than a week; people on whose list I didn’t last longer than a week either. Well, there certainly wasn’t the quantity I make it out to be, but ooh baby, was there quality or WAS THERE QUALITY.
Off the cuff, I can recollect two: One boy in my 12th standard Mathematics supplementary course was the epitome of cuteness (then an important prerequisite). We bumped into each other at an inter-school literary and cultural fest, and spent every minute of the next four days together. We’d compete in open events together, we’d compete against each other, we’d cheer each other, and do corny things like dedicate songs at the Jukebox to coined names for each other (gasp! reveal our real names?! And let our friends know??! Gasp!!). Ooh… he was awesome... just the stuff teenage dreams were made of.
But the most memorable was a tad more recent than that. *grin* we met online, on a public site (a blog, if you must know). I bypassed his first couple of comments, but he grew fairly err… un-ignorable after that. We began some serious mother-ass flirting in the comments box of this one particular blog. Like dudes… hello…! Get a room!!
So we did. We shifted base to email. Oh… did I forget to mention we were still using pseudonyms? The next week or ten days were a flurry of emails. We’d send anywhere between five and twenty emails a day, and we’d carry on multiple threads of conversation simultaneously.
He was awesome. He was one of the first people I’d met who could make me laugh, think and blush. He tickled my mind, he gave me shivers down my spine, and he made me want to wake up every morning. (Ever had that feeling? It’s awesome. There’s nothing cooler than to look forward to a certain someone each day)
And I took the plunge. Not only did I give him my name, I gave him my number, and we exchanged photographs.
So. Bloody. Hot.
So. Extremely. Bloody. Hot.
So let’s just go over the list again, ok? Intelligent, smart, charming, witty, listener with good looks. Sounds too good to be true, no?
Well, it was. Too good to be true, I mean. He stopped mailing me. In fact, he just about stopped everything. He pretty much disappeared off the face of this earth, with all of my contact information in tow. Scary? Naah… he was harmless as a fly. And very trustworthy. (Yes, I consider myself capable of judging him coz I think I knew him well, albeit briefly. Well enough to know this much at least.)
But I tell you, what we had, it was furiously tempestuous. This boy, he was higher than 15 on the Richter scale… he completely rocked my world.
PS: Title of post courtesy Shania Twain
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Crossing fingers, toes, eyes, arms, legs and everything else
I am sitting on the ceiling and observing myself tail-spinning my own life out of control. I am seeing things go wrong, and I am seeing things go way out of control. Worst of all, I am seeing myself responsible for most of it. I have no one to blame for it but myself.
I am setting up a pattern of bum-f***ing myself so badly, I can’t sit. And I have no idea how to break this stupid, bloody, vicious cycle.
I need to get a grip on some things in my life, and I’m hoping that this evening and this weekend allow me that liberty. I have shit to sort out – while I know that it’s definitely going to bury me under, I’m hoping I will get an opportunity to resurface and inhale as well.
I tremble with nervous trepidation about the weeks to come, and especially quake in anticipation of the next few days. It’s going to be tough, it’s going to be grueling, and it’s going to test me. Test my patience, my ego, my resilience, my capabilities, my professionalism, my gut, my grit, my strength. There’s a lot of my pride I’m going to have to swallow, and I don’t even like the thought of that.
*shudder* I’m not looking forward to it.
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Conversation
Father: Gosh Reveur, your voice is really bad!
Reveur: Yea… I sound like a frog on heat
Father: Do you know what a frog sounds like when it’s on heat?
Reveur: Do you know?
Father: No
Reveur: Then take my word for it, no?
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Wondering
Which is more painful - labour or being kicked in the balls?
(this is one question we can never answer no? I mean... how does one compare?)
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Back in bizniss
Full of beans and resolutions I am today. I slept less than half a wink last night - stayed up coughing all night and all that. Yes, I've taken a bit ill, seeing as I was exposed for five days to EXTREMELY cold weather, and hailing from a city where cold is as foreign as Timbuktoo.
Most importantly though, I have bounced back. Heh heh, not owing to my adipose this time. For some strange reason, I had a niggling nag going on inside my head. Lately, I've been disgruntled with pretty much every aspect of my life - professional, personal, physical, blah blah blah. And last night was the peak of disgruntlement. I was completely mind-fucked, and I had NO idea what to do, or how to go about it.
And for the first time in many, many months, I broke down. I didn't weep melodramatically, or sob heavingly, but I did shed a few tears. Tears more of anger and frustration and helplessness. Tears for what has been, what is and what could have been. Tears for what isn't.
Did I mention that yesterday was also the death anniversary of the man that I loved most in my life? No? Oh... it must've skipped my mind.
So two cigarettes, a glass of apple juice, some jazz and lounge, one phone call and a half hour later, my shoulders were lighter, the beginnings of a smile were creeping back.
Today I'm back in bizniss. I know I can handle whatever is thrown my way, and believe you me, there's a lot being chucked right now. But what the hell... I've got two large arms!!
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Grrr
The cat displayed its claws, the dog bared its fangs, the lioness roared, and the world quaked in fear.
After waiting one entire day, I blew my top at my Systems team. Within two minutes, three people came sprinting, checked my computer, and replaced my keyboard.
Yes, I am mild at best, and rarely even bother ruffling my feathers. But when the storm arrives... whoa boy... you better watch out.
If you don't believe me, ask Systems.
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Frustrating
Ihave tonsandtonsofthings tosay, andplentymore things to do, andmykeyboardhasdecidedto doit's own thing. Thespace keydoes't work,and when it does,it spacestoo much.
Of course,I'mtoolazyto gobackand individually enter spaces between all words. Cozthat'swhat I'vebeendoing formybusinessmail, and fuck...it'sbloody pissingoff.
Although it waslaugh-out-loudhumorous inthemorning, it'sbeginningtogettomenow... I wanttogetdonewith mywork and head home beforethe sun sets. At least ONE DAY... isthat too muchtoask??
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Three days...
So... it's a huge change from wearing thin cotton clothes, and eating ice cream just as much as you please. Yes people, I'm in Delhi, and I'm lovin' every single minute of it!
Quick snapshot, before I post in detail about all the happenings:
~ I nearly missed my flight here, having woken up only at the time I was to check in
~ However, I was treated like a VIP, and was allowed onto my flight
~ I was upgraded to business class, where I knowledgeably discussed Tamil Nadu with the governor of the state
~ I went back to Economy (voluntarily), where I slept on three seats for the rest of my journey
~ I didn't wear a sweater the first day I was here
~ The next day though, I wore the thickest jacket anyone owns...!
~ I met a fellow blogger, and had a most awesome time
~ I had the BEST Sunday in forever!!
~ My morning was book shopping...
~ ...and my evening was... STING!!
~ I had awesome aloo tikki, gol-guppas, and a HUGE dessert for dinner
~ I have slept a grand total of 14 hours since the time I landed here...
Reveur wishes to place on record, the extreme goodwill of the fellow blogger, who went out of his way to make this a really cool trip! Thank you, Fellow Blogger, for emptying out your wallet for me! :-)
PS: I was ten meters from Mr. Sumner. Only ten metres!!!!! Sigh... to be Joy Rose, and have him kiss me.... *sigh*
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Unrevealing unravelling
Sometimes it's ironic how dangerous one's work can be, but what a simple, stupid death they end up having. It's like the suicidal man who decided to jump off the golden gate bridge with a noose around his neck and a gun to his temple. So he jumped, and pulled the trigger at the same time. The bullet cut the rope, and he fell - safely - into the waters below, where he was rescued by cops and sent to hospital. He died of hypothermia.
And though all these deaths are but statistical, they have a profound impact somewhere. Mr. Jumper, for instance, found himself a mention in the Darwin Awards.
I digress.
(Y'know, this post isn't really something I want to be writing. But I need to unbottle. That's why the words don't flow easily)
Big deep breath. Inhale, exhale.
Of all the men that I went out with, there was one that I would have simply died for. I loved him with every pore in me, and worshipped the ground he walked on. It was pure and genuine, and the best part? It was mutual.
Neither of us had much time to spend with each other. I would be busy conducting dance classes, and he would be busy conducting music classes. And of course, he was in the Merchant Navy, so I only got to see him for four months, every six months. But we were in a band together (he was lead guitarist, and I was vocalist/drummer) so we did get some time in together.
Where he was a Yo! boy, replete with gel in his hair (in the mid 90's!!), I was a paavam girl. He was as boistrously social as I was reserved, and he was as popular as I was unnoticed. And still, magic happened to happen.
It lasted less than a year. Some ten and a half months into our relationship, he was killed in a road accident. Irony again? He was only standing by the footpath, when drunken drivers lost control of their car and ran into/through/over him. More horrifying, it wasn't a spot death.
Slowly, and too quickly, I saw his life ebb away. From looking into glowing, lively eyes, I suddenly was looking down into dazed, anguished, pain-contorted eyes, and then at eyelids that refused to open. I went from being the hand-held to the hand-holder.
In three days, he opened his eyes, and began to speak, giving us all more than just glimmers of hope. But it was just his final goodbye - that's all he mustered up the strength for. He told his parents and sister that he loved them, and smiled his gorgeous smile.
And then, as we just sat there, enjoying his awakeness, he morse-coded "I love you. Marry me." to me. I grinned like a cheshire cat, and nodded and morse-coded "Yes. Kissing you" to him.
Four hours later, he hemorrhaged. I haven't ever been able to cry over him, and I don't think I ever will be able to either. Why? Don't ask me. All I know is that he just left a profound hollowness, that's all.
No one - and I mean NO one - knew about him, not even my then-closest friend (I really was a private person). Suddenly, the Internet has access to something even I didn't turn to for a long time.
Oh god.... I'm beginning to freak out now...
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Breathless
The last few days have been a mad haze of travel and coffee. From airplanes to cycle rickshaws, I've seen 'em all since Thursday, and I've had some of the best few days of my life.
Y'see, I was required to travel to three different locations in five days, and it has been wonderful. My shoulder aches from the weight of the bloody camera, and my eyes hurt from all the squinting, and my throat hurts from all the yelling, and my lids hurt from all the staying awake, but there's no way I've been able to wipe this grin off my face.
The other news is that my travel plans also need me to be in Delhi between Saturday and Thursday, so YAY!! I get to see Mr. Sumner in action!! Yippee!!
Gasp. Wheeze. Pant. Pant. Pant.
I still need a minute to catch my breath though...
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