Thursday, June 16, 2005
Samaan-e-shauq hai ye baham
Frivolous... huh? “Not serious in content or attitude or behaviour; of little weight or importance.” So that excludes books, music, movies, hobbies, work, right? Good.
In random order, then:
Eight frivolous things that bring me joy
1. Lip balms. Right now on my dressing table: plain petroleum jelly, a luxurious banana, a tingly mint, a smooth pineapple, a so-so strawberry and a crappy sparkle gel from Streetwear.
2. Bath Accessories – soaps, bath salts, bath oils.
When Shweta brought back Lush soaps from London, we started to have a soap platter – we’ve run out of those ones but still manage to have a variety to choose from: lemon, neem, lavender, green apple, sandal…. Deliberating over which soap every day… yes, that gives me joy.
Bath oils and salts – I made a fresh bottle of rose baths salts recently – pale pink, with essence of Rosa damascena… heavenly!
3. Pedicures.
4. Stationery – paper, pens, pins.
5. Corn on the cob. Mokka bhutta. Choosing tender/medium ones from a pile, watching the vendor strip it efficiently and roast it over coal, fanning the bed to a bright red. Generous slathering of nimboo dipped in salt and kala namak. Paying man measly Rs 5 per ear, wrapping in leaves, and nip, nipping away.
6. Churans and suparis. You will have guessed by now – I can’t have one of anything, it has got to be a collection. Churans on kitchen shelf at present time – jeera goli, anaar daana, amla churan and aloo bhukhara. Suparis: pineapple, khajur, khas khas, gulkhand, couple of other assortments that don’t have names.
7. Having my cell phone conversations end at the dying seconds of a minute, extracting maximum yak for my buck. Conversely, nothing annoys me more than a call duration that reads something : 02.
8. Finding a chatty Hyderabadi autowalla when I'm by myself and feeling like some conversation.
In random order, then:
Eight frivolous things that bring me joy
1. Lip balms. Right now on my dressing table: plain petroleum jelly, a luxurious banana, a tingly mint, a smooth pineapple, a so-so strawberry and a crappy sparkle gel from Streetwear.
2. Bath Accessories – soaps, bath salts, bath oils.
When Shweta brought back Lush soaps from London, we started to have a soap platter – we’ve run out of those ones but still manage to have a variety to choose from: lemon, neem, lavender, green apple, sandal…. Deliberating over which soap every day… yes, that gives me joy.
Bath oils and salts – I made a fresh bottle of rose baths salts recently – pale pink, with essence of Rosa damascena… heavenly!
3. Pedicures.
4. Stationery – paper, pens, pins.
5. Corn on the cob. Mokka bhutta. Choosing tender/medium ones from a pile, watching the vendor strip it efficiently and roast it over coal, fanning the bed to a bright red. Generous slathering of nimboo dipped in salt and kala namak. Paying man measly Rs 5 per ear, wrapping in leaves, and nip, nipping away.
6. Churans and suparis. You will have guessed by now – I can’t have one of anything, it has got to be a collection. Churans on kitchen shelf at present time – jeera goli, anaar daana, amla churan and aloo bhukhara. Suparis: pineapple, khajur, khas khas, gulkhand, couple of other assortments that don’t have names.
7. Having my cell phone conversations end at the dying seconds of a minute, extracting maximum yak for my buck. Conversely, nothing annoys me more than a call duration that reads something : 02.
8. Finding a chatty Hyderabadi autowalla when I'm by myself and feeling like some conversation.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Monsoons
The monsoons arrived here today. Early this morning. Clouds so dark and so low, I could’ve touched them if I’d been a little taller. Overnight the bleached whites, browns and gold have gone, and filters have descended on the world – the blues are deeper, the pinks are pinker, everything else is purply gray.
I like this. Imagining a huge mass of cloud moving across the subcontinent casting a huge shadow as it moves north, northeast. Shade, succour, water.
I remember Bimal saying once that lightning in Kerala was quite something else. Everyone from that corner of the world agrees. I mean to do that sometime. Some year soon, I’ll pack and go visit Kerala in the last week of May. Go to the southwestern-most tip of this land, dangle my feet over the lip into the sea and see the clouds coming.
I like this. Imagining a huge mass of cloud moving across the subcontinent casting a huge shadow as it moves north, northeast. Shade, succour, water.
I remember Bimal saying once that lightning in Kerala was quite something else. Everyone from that corner of the world agrees. I mean to do that sometime. Some year soon, I’ll pack and go visit Kerala in the last week of May. Go to the southwestern-most tip of this land, dangle my feet over the lip into the sea and see the clouds coming.
Monday, June 13, 2005
Friday, June 10, 2005
Lists: The nine
Gayathri is fond of lists. She’s also fond of many many other things, so she decided to mesh her loves and come up with a few of her favourite things. Here’s her master-list of lists:
1. Nine songs I would pick if those were the only pieces I could listen to for the rest of my life
2. Eight frivolous things that bring me joy
3. Seven people (dead or alive, real or fictional people that I won’t actually ever meet!) that I would pick to have a 5 minute conversation with
4. Six best coffee/chai memories
5. Five best memories of my sister
6. Four things I could eat anytime, anyplace
7. Three places I've been to that I want to go back to
Naturally, I begged to be tagged and she did. So here’s my first list.
Nine songs I would pick if those were the only pieces I could listen to for the rest of my life
Not even allowed albums, I’m to pick individual pieces… sigh! Remember I asked for this. Countdown:
9. I’ve surprised myself by deciding on Jagjit Singh: a tie between Tum nahin, gham nahin, sharaab nahin and Kaun aayega yahaan. Solitude and Loneliness. What the heck, both. I’ll decide, like Gay says in her list, when they hold a gun to my head.
8. Ranjish hi sahi by Mehdi Hassan – this was The Hook, the first ghazal I ever heard by the master.
7. MS Subbulakshmi singing Hanuman Chalisa. In ragamala. I’ve heard people say that hearing MSS’s unmistakable South Indian accents sing the Chalisa puts them off, but this is where I learnt it from. I’ve heard other versions but you can’t beat MSS for bhaktibhava.
6. Aaj rang hai - nice looooong version by… Nusrat again or perhaps the Sabri brothers.
5. Nusrat’s Nit khair mangan. Gorgeous, simply gorgeous.
4. Rafi’s Koi sagar dil ko behlaata nahin. Had to include Kalavati and had to have Rafi. No contest.
3. Rashid Khan singing Bageshri. My all-time favourite raga to fall asleep to.
2. Ashwini Bhide-Deshpande singing Bhimpalasi. Golden afternoons are made of these.
1. Rashid Khan singing Sohni – one elaborate, elaborate piece. Or Megh. Both. No words.
Am I tagging anyone? Nah… zabardasti is no fun. But if anyone wants to, ask and ye shall be tagged.
1. Nine songs I would pick if those were the only pieces I could listen to for the rest of my life
2. Eight frivolous things that bring me joy
3. Seven people (dead or alive, real or fictional people that I won’t actually ever meet!) that I would pick to have a 5 minute conversation with
4. Six best coffee/chai memories
5. Five best memories of my sister
6. Four things I could eat anytime, anyplace
7. Three places I've been to that I want to go back to
Naturally, I begged to be tagged and she did. So here’s my first list.
Nine songs I would pick if those were the only pieces I could listen to for the rest of my life
Not even allowed albums, I’m to pick individual pieces… sigh! Remember I asked for this. Countdown:
9. I’ve surprised myself by deciding on Jagjit Singh: a tie between Tum nahin, gham nahin, sharaab nahin and Kaun aayega yahaan. Solitude and Loneliness. What the heck, both. I’ll decide, like Gay says in her list, when they hold a gun to my head.
8. Ranjish hi sahi by Mehdi Hassan – this was The Hook, the first ghazal I ever heard by the master.
7. MS Subbulakshmi singing Hanuman Chalisa. In ragamala. I’ve heard people say that hearing MSS’s unmistakable South Indian accents sing the Chalisa puts them off, but this is where I learnt it from. I’ve heard other versions but you can’t beat MSS for bhaktibhava.
6. Aaj rang hai - nice looooong version by… Nusrat again or perhaps the Sabri brothers.
5. Nusrat’s Nit khair mangan. Gorgeous, simply gorgeous.
4. Rafi’s Koi sagar dil ko behlaata nahin. Had to include Kalavati and had to have Rafi. No contest.
3. Rashid Khan singing Bageshri. My all-time favourite raga to fall asleep to.
2. Ashwini Bhide-Deshpande singing Bhimpalasi. Golden afternoons are made of these.
1. Rashid Khan singing Sohni – one elaborate, elaborate piece. Or Megh. Both. No words.
Am I tagging anyone? Nah… zabardasti is no fun. But if anyone wants to, ask and ye shall be tagged.
Thursday, June 09, 2005
OD
it’s been rafi all this week
shankar-jaikishen rafi, naushad rafi, op nayyar rafi
dilip kumar rafi, dev anand rafi, joy mukherjee-biswajeet rafi
shammi kapoor, shashi kapoor rafi
sahir rafi, shakeel rafi, majrooh rafi
nice.
shankar-jaikishen rafi, naushad rafi, op nayyar rafi
dilip kumar rafi, dev anand rafi, joy mukherjee-biswajeet rafi
shammi kapoor, shashi kapoor rafi
sahir rafi, shakeel rafi, majrooh rafi
nice.
Monday, June 06, 2005
Dredging Meme-ories
Booktagged by The Scab That Swung and Samanth Subramanian. And I confess it felt like a cold clap on the shoulder.
Reading the book meme everywhere on the blogosphere has been so, so fascinating and I’ve been left with a persistent feeling that it is time my reading interests were widened. Evidently, sitaaron se aage jahaan aur bhi hai.
How many books do I own?
Just the ones I bought/own? Or books in the house? Do candyfloss romances count? Er… dunno. About 600, maybe 750.
Last book bought
Margaret Atwood’s The Blind Assassin, Dick Francis’ Knock Down, Devices and Desires by PD James and an armload of M&Bs.
Last books read
Michael Critchon’s State of Fear, and all of these in Bhopal: Thrones, Dominations by Dorothy Sayers and Jill Paton Walsh, The Moving Finger by Agatha Christie, Ipsita Roy Chakraverti’s autobiography Beloved Witch, one book on Kundalini, bits from a glossary called Q is for Quantum, Dick Francis’ 10-lb Penalty.
Am in the middle of: The Blind Assassin, Jane Austen’s Mansfield Park, Aldous Huxley’s The Perennial Philosophy.
Books that mean a lot to me
Amar Chitra Katha. They were all engrossing. I loved the cover versos that gave the sources and a little history behind each story, and so much of what I sought later – Kalidasa, folklore, the Hitopadesha, the Mahabharata – was triggered there.
Favourites: The Magic Grove, Balanagamma and Gopal and the Cowherd.
Enid Blyton. All, all of ‘em. I’ve outgrown the Famous Five, but am still addicted to the Five Find-Outers and Dog.
Faves: Malory Towers, The Enchanted Wood series, the Circus Series (I should’ve been Jimmy, of course, having tigers purring to me and eat from my hands).
Absolute favourite: The Children of the Cherry Tree Farm.
The Complete Sherlock Holmes. A lovely hardbound book, in elegant font. A gift from my parents for accomplishing something or the other. Holmes… he blew my mind. I pretended to be his ‘soul’ child for a long time – he moulded my rationality, my ‘cold-bloodedness’. I loved him so much, my 10th standard teacher once refused to go on to the next chapter of The Hound of Baskervilles because I was absent.
The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. Another gift – from my Bapa, my grandfather. Have by no means read everything, but I can never survey my books without dipping into this one.
Told you I was reading Mansfield Park? Here are words Austen puts into the mouth of Henry Crawford: “Shakespeare one gets acquainted with without knowing how… His thoughts and beauties are so spread abroad that one touches them everywhere; one is intimate with him by instinct. No man of any brain can open at a good part of one of his plays without falling into the flow on his meaning immediately.” My sentiments.
Am I allowed dictionaries? Aaina-e-ghazal by Vinay Waikar and Zarina Sani – a dictionary especially for the ghazal, with ‘poetic’ meaning of ordinary words. Before this, I would listen to shers, put down words I didn’t know or couldn’t make out even in context, and take these scraps to my classmate and friend, Romaisa. She would take them home to her mother and bring them back the next day with meanings scrawled next to them. When my father ordered for Aaina-e-Ghazal, it enriched my life beyond measure. There is a later edition and I mean to get it, but this well-worn book is special.
Many many others: From the King of All-the-Time-in-the-World, LOTR (which is due for another reread), Gerald Durrell’s My Family and Other Animals and that excellent argument for conservation in Catch me a Colobus which turned my steps there (haven’t done anything yet, but I’m a cauldron in progress), all the Georgette Heyers, Trevanian’s Shibumi, Gary Zukov’s The Dancing Wu Li Masters (which along with a few other circumstances put everything, everything into place), Wodehouse’s Leave it to Psmith, A Damsel in Distress and the Mulliner stories, Vikram Seth’s The Golden Gate… and oh, my Harry Potters.
Persons I’d like to tag? Shweta, Gayathri, Navin and Nishu (when she chooses to come out…).
My friends Alina and Sudha don’t even read my blog – I have a feeling the poor things will live and die without discovering blogs – but I’ll do my bit and tag them. Sheer vanity might get them going if the inducement of reading me can’t.
Finally, she’ll kill me for this and die a bit each day till she gets it done… PRIYA. heh heh.
Felt like mucking about in waist-deep memories, TeeGee, Samanth, but fun anyway. Thanks.
Reading the book meme everywhere on the blogosphere has been so, so fascinating and I’ve been left with a persistent feeling that it is time my reading interests were widened. Evidently, sitaaron se aage jahaan aur bhi hai.
How many books do I own?
Just the ones I bought/own? Or books in the house? Do candyfloss romances count? Er… dunno. About 600, maybe 750.
Last book bought
Margaret Atwood’s The Blind Assassin, Dick Francis’ Knock Down, Devices and Desires by PD James and an armload of M&Bs.
Last books read
Michael Critchon’s State of Fear, and all of these in Bhopal: Thrones, Dominations by Dorothy Sayers and Jill Paton Walsh, The Moving Finger by Agatha Christie, Ipsita Roy Chakraverti’s autobiography Beloved Witch, one book on Kundalini, bits from a glossary called Q is for Quantum, Dick Francis’ 10-lb Penalty.
Am in the middle of: The Blind Assassin, Jane Austen’s Mansfield Park, Aldous Huxley’s The Perennial Philosophy.
Books that mean a lot to me
Amar Chitra Katha. They were all engrossing. I loved the cover versos that gave the sources and a little history behind each story, and so much of what I sought later – Kalidasa, folklore, the Hitopadesha, the Mahabharata – was triggered there.
Favourites: The Magic Grove, Balanagamma and Gopal and the Cowherd.
Enid Blyton. All, all of ‘em. I’ve outgrown the Famous Five, but am still addicted to the Five Find-Outers and Dog.
Faves: Malory Towers, The Enchanted Wood series, the Circus Series (I should’ve been Jimmy, of course, having tigers purring to me and eat from my hands).
Absolute favourite: The Children of the Cherry Tree Farm.
The Complete Sherlock Holmes. A lovely hardbound book, in elegant font. A gift from my parents for accomplishing something or the other. Holmes… he blew my mind. I pretended to be his ‘soul’ child for a long time – he moulded my rationality, my ‘cold-bloodedness’. I loved him so much, my 10th standard teacher once refused to go on to the next chapter of The Hound of Baskervilles because I was absent.
The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. Another gift – from my Bapa, my grandfather. Have by no means read everything, but I can never survey my books without dipping into this one.
Told you I was reading Mansfield Park? Here are words Austen puts into the mouth of Henry Crawford: “Shakespeare one gets acquainted with without knowing how… His thoughts and beauties are so spread abroad that one touches them everywhere; one is intimate with him by instinct. No man of any brain can open at a good part of one of his plays without falling into the flow on his meaning immediately.” My sentiments.
Am I allowed dictionaries? Aaina-e-ghazal by Vinay Waikar and Zarina Sani – a dictionary especially for the ghazal, with ‘poetic’ meaning of ordinary words. Before this, I would listen to shers, put down words I didn’t know or couldn’t make out even in context, and take these scraps to my classmate and friend, Romaisa. She would take them home to her mother and bring them back the next day with meanings scrawled next to them. When my father ordered for Aaina-e-Ghazal, it enriched my life beyond measure. There is a later edition and I mean to get it, but this well-worn book is special.
Many many others: From the King of All-the-Time-in-the-World, LOTR (which is due for another reread), Gerald Durrell’s My Family and Other Animals and that excellent argument for conservation in Catch me a Colobus which turned my steps there (haven’t done anything yet, but I’m a cauldron in progress), all the Georgette Heyers, Trevanian’s Shibumi, Gary Zukov’s The Dancing Wu Li Masters (which along with a few other circumstances put everything, everything into place), Wodehouse’s Leave it to Psmith, A Damsel in Distress and the Mulliner stories, Vikram Seth’s The Golden Gate… and oh, my Harry Potters.
Persons I’d like to tag? Shweta, Gayathri, Navin and Nishu (when she chooses to come out…).
My friends Alina and Sudha don’t even read my blog – I have a feeling the poor things will live and die without discovering blogs – but I’ll do my bit and tag them. Sheer vanity might get them going if the inducement of reading me can’t.
Finally, she’ll kill me for this and die a bit each day till she gets it done… PRIYA. heh heh.
Felt like mucking about in waist-deep memories, TeeGee, Samanth, but fun anyway. Thanks.
Laughter hijacked
For some weeks now, Star One has been tom-tomming its new show, the Great Indian Laughter Challenge. A quest for the best stand-up comic in the country. Well, it should at least be revealing, I thought, and plonked meself down to watch it.
THIS is Indian humour? This?! Tasteless themes - obesity, colour and nagging wives? Completely lacking in sophistication or good sense... there was even one imitation of a rooster. Used to have one kid do that at colony functions.
Shameful and saddening. yuck.
THIS is Indian humour? This?! Tasteless themes - obesity, colour and nagging wives? Completely lacking in sophistication or good sense... there was even one imitation of a rooster. Used to have one kid do that at colony functions.
Shameful and saddening. yuck.
Sunday, June 05, 2005
More of what I did
Woken up nice and languorous. 10D yesterday after a long long time. After good imitation of hermit crabness, a night of dancing was just what the soul craved. The pub though was crammed and bursting at the sides.
Tot, I wore the 'Sonia Ray' type crochet overcoat, finally wore it. Plus chance to use body glitter and new colourless mascara. yippie. My lip-colour was not fuschia but in fact orangey brown.
Tot, I wore the 'Sonia Ray' type crochet overcoat, finally wore it. Plus chance to use body glitter and new colourless mascara. yippie. My lip-colour was not fuschia but in fact orangey brown.
Friday, June 03, 2005
Dina charya
Have worn nice red hand-embroidered kurta, in sympathy for my sister who needs a generous helping of the force today. Also, many compliments have come my way – I must get out more often. New kolhaps giving me a nasty bite, though.
Incidentally solved my first sudoku puzzle yesterday in 10 minutes. Yesss! Math has always been a bugbear, in spite of a 95 out of 100 in my Class 10 board exams (thought I might as well tell you what brilliance we’re dealing with here - how many chances do you imagine I have of slipping that into casual conversation?) Where was I? Yes, Sudoku doesn’t need math – you only need to know to count from one to nine and summon up a bit of logic. Good fun. It may become a habit – we shall see. Else there is always Freecell.
Incidentally solved my first sudoku puzzle yesterday in 10 minutes. Yesss! Math has always been a bugbear, in spite of a 95 out of 100 in my Class 10 board exams (thought I might as well tell you what brilliance we’re dealing with here - how many chances do you imagine I have of slipping that into casual conversation?) Where was I? Yes, Sudoku doesn’t need math – you only need to know to count from one to nine and summon up a bit of logic. Good fun. It may become a habit – we shall see. Else there is always Freecell.
Thursday, June 02, 2005
Lost
Chalta hun thodi door har ik tez rau ke saath
Pehchanta nahin hun abhi raahbar ko mai
Oonchi dyodhi mere khwaja ki
mose uthro chadho na jaaye
kehdo mere khwaja ko
mori baiyyan pakadke jaaye
Pehchanta nahin hun abhi raahbar ko mai
Oonchi dyodhi mere khwaja ki
mose uthro chadho na jaaye
kehdo mere khwaja ko
mori baiyyan pakadke jaaye
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Can't hardly wait
I have been putting together a calendar of fun events in July for a publication and came inevitably to the Tour de France. I have 80 measly words or so in which to describe the event, and if possible give readers an essence of what it’s really really like. Stirring words poured forth and I ended up getting all stirred up myself.
Just a month to go, just a month to go. Cannot wait.
Most evenings this July, God and Ten Sports willing, you will find the mother and me sitting at the edge of our seats, egging on the breakaways, or taking a breather to sit back and drink in the beauty of the French countryside, or breaking into sweats in utter sympathy for the riders during the brutal mountain climbs. It’s hard work just watching the Tour. Like I said, cannot wait.
Just a month to go, just a month to go. Cannot wait.
Most evenings this July, God and Ten Sports willing, you will find the mother and me sitting at the edge of our seats, egging on the breakaways, or taking a breather to sit back and drink in the beauty of the French countryside, or breaking into sweats in utter sympathy for the riders during the brutal mountain climbs. It’s hard work just watching the Tour. Like I said, cannot wait.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)