Oh bloody 'ell!

Clicked at the institute - Good weather, bad day

I have had some what of a crappy week, what with coming down with a violent flu (because of which I had to miss class yesterday) and realizing that I am not quite enjoying the current German course as of now.
.
And Goa. I miss home. I miss living in a place I can be proud of. Not that Pune isn't fabulous (especially the noise. Love the noise) but it's just not me. Been talking a little with Brad, old college friend with whom misunderstandings were cleared last week. Brad is also away from home and also has had shitty luck with friends. Had a nice chat on Facebook last night about being drunk and the power of Zen. He says you have to try sitting straight, with your fingers (but not palms) touching, close eyes and calmly say 'I...AM...ZEN' for inner peace. The only Zen I really used to think about was mom's pretty pink car at home which I get to drive when I go home. But maybe I should give it a shot. And if it works, Zen before men. Haha.


Also, the H key on my keyboard is acting up like a stubborn child who refuses to drink milk. I have to resort to corporal punishment, hitting the key very hard before it spits out the letter on screen. Which is why the title of this post has 'ell in it.  Things like these are such an utter waste of frustration and annoyance, I feel like god is just screwing with me while he takes a beer break or an Amrut break or whatever break it is that god might be taking. Ooh, wonder why there is no god of technology. You know, like your computer crashes and the repair guys say ' We've done everything we could. All you can do now is pray.' I know you're probably backing away slowly to get away from the crazy ranting, but I'm too tired to take that  metaphor any further anyway.


Haemoglobin count in my body is low! Got the blood test results in the evening. Apparently low Hb leads to tiredness, breathlessness, low concentration  and the list goes on. Have a scary image of my body with slots for nutrients and the Hb/Iron slot blinking red and a hot phone operator voice saying- Warning, warning - Haemoglobin levels low. Please eat iron rich nutrients NOW!' 
Feel like having one of Popeye's instant energy spinach cans. Except in my mind, when I was a kid, that particular brand of spinach tasted scrumptious.
(Completely random thought, but does anyone remember the Powerpuff girls episode where the kids of Townsville have to save the city by eating Broccoli aliens? Loved the bit where they pour cheese on them. Mmmm...cheese).


And that has made me hungry. Off I go.



-The Cyniqueen
-
-
-
P.S - Adam Lambert's 'Time for Miracles' from the 2012 OST. Listen. Like. Comment. Muah!

That's the story of, that's the glory of...procrastination.

courtesy Google Image search --- http://www.netanimations.net/Animated_Relaxing_dog.gif

I attribute the hiatus in blogging activity to blogger’s block, no comments and being busy. And lazy. Now that that’s done, let us, ever so gently, move on to what I was doing when you were anxiously waiting for my next blog entry. (What? It’s possible!)

Significant things? Meh.

It rained like waterfalls gushing from the skies.

I finished another level of German. (and yes, cleared it. Very important to mention).

I rediscovered the inexplicable joy of an internet connection at home (the Pune home)

After months of living alone, my sis came to Pune and we stayed together. Fun.

Kinch finally left for a land far, far away. Sigh and sigh.

Donkeys, white, braying, kicking, killing-your-sleep-in-the-dead-of-the-night DONKEYS reside around the Pune house, as I recently discovered. Now don’t get me wrong, I think animals are adorable. But dude, have you ever heard a donkey bray? Its sad really. Like a trumpet being stamped upon crossed with a sore-throated elephant’s cry crossed with a peacock being tortured. And never having heard a donkey’s bray before, I was more than just puzzled when it started braying once fine starry night, threatening to deafen and frighten at the same time. In my semi-conscious haze it was ridiculously obvious that tall aliens made up of snail skin were back in the area(I think I’d been reading some bad sci-fi), but no, it was donkeys. Donkeys, for heaven’s sake. Which is, of course, why I treasure each second of peace here in Goa. Where I shall probably never get to live again. Sigh and sigh and sigh.

Was noch? Oh yes, I re-read Toast by Nigel Slater, when I was in Pune. The story of a sad childhood told through the association of food. Deliciously melancholy and an appetisingly ornate read. You will cry as you are laughing and vice versa. I know. I would’ve made such a good book critic. Seriously though, I’ve gifted the book to a lot of people and I’d recommend it to anyone who likes their food or has some level of sensitivity to life.

Had some brilliantly perfect recheado mackerel and fried kingfish at my aunt’s tonight. Oh, and Xacuti chicken. And pudding. And mmmmmmm...and I don’t care about the calories. (Although maybe in the morning a wave of guilt will visit. Eh.)

I finally finally went to the salon today after what literally felt like years. It was so bad that I was beginning to avoid meeting anyone who was not family (and thus not obliged to like me as I am. Which was unfortunately very very hairy). I mean, okay, it wasn’t so bad, but my skin had begun to look about a shade darker. Heh. And I got a haircut, which was supposed to be a trim. Hairdressers always, but always do this. Oh, and my hair, it took years to grow. With a few snip-snap swishy important-sounding sounds of an innocently small pair of scissors, it's about 5 inches shorter. It’s the same as when waiters while serving you seem to be stone deaf when you say ‘thank you, that’s enough’ or something and go on to serve about double of how much you actually want. I’m sad about the hair, but at least it’s not as bad as January, when Mavis cut it so short, my back felt naked.

Realization – I turn into a major slob every time I come home to Goa, happily indulging in the simple primal pleasure of TV watching, sleeping (in peace and quiet) and eating. On Tuesday, for instance, I watched Armageddon again followed immediately by The Pursuit of Happyness. And after that, I finally bathed. Felt so icky. But that’s the story of (that’s the glory of) sloth.

And this slob, I fear

Has had it up till here

So, sweet reader

I wish thee good night

Fluff your pillows

Draw the curtains

And don’t let the bed bugs bite

(and you thought it was going to be profound. I am so off my rocker tonight. byebyebye)

'Have you floated in the full moon night sky yet?' Random ramblings of a distracted Cyniqueen.

* courtesy Google Image search ---bored---sodahead.com

Why, oh why, I ask (ever so respectfully), is no bloody one online when you want to chat? And why when you don't want to, people keep bing binging you (That's the Google Talk message tone. I use Google Talk. I luuurve Google Talk)? I know, the easier thing to do would be to not sign in. Duh. But you know when you want to be connected with people but not talk? Like when you're at home and people are around...you want to be left alone but at the same time you're just glad that some one's around the house somewhere doing their own thing?

Now, there aren't too many people on my Gtalk list, which is why I still like Gtalk. Yahoo Messenger, on the other hand, is clogged with contacts, most of whom I don't even know that well. So on the rare occasions that I do sign in, I end up staying invisible, reading the offline messages if I have any, and leaving quietly. In the same way you would slink off stealthily from a party with loud music you don't enjoy and old acquaintances you have no intention of talking to.

I was to leave for Pune on Tuesday, but Swine flu has everyone telling me not to go by public transport. So I guess I'm going to have to miss a day or two (which is about 7 hours of teaching. Gulp.) and leave by car with someone else, maybe mom's friend's daughter who also studies in Pune. Now, my institute which could have remained closed a little longer like all others is re-opening on Wednesday. If I was still doing M.A, missing class would have been less of a problem. But now, it's a super intensive course so it's hard to make up for if you miss something. Dilemma type situation. I hate to leave Goa. I hate to miss class. Absolutely perfect. Huh.
Which by the way, is to inform the few people who read this blog (and what lovely people they are, have I ever mentioned?) that posting may be irregular or less frequent whenever I do go to Pune. Sigh. I know, I'll miss you too :D

Good things about today : I got to nap in the afternoon - a nice, quiet, long, quiet, peaceful, quiet, deep, quiet nap. Because in Pune as I have bitched before, I'm certain, there are always these annoying little sounds at all times - people laughing/coughing/screaming/fighting/hawking/sometimes just like exhaling loudly (what? I swear it happens), music, construction, cars honking - oh, the honking. I despise the honking. I mean, people, it's not a magic button to clear traffic, for crying out loud! Or crying out soft actually, I prefer crying out soft. Teehee.

So ANYWAY, I dreamt, among numerous other things that I had the ability to go through walls and to fly. And in my dream, I'd had a shitty day and just wanted to get away. So 'whoosh!', went I into the full moon night sky. And the full moon night sky was peppered with soft white tufts of clouds, it was; and I whooshed and flipped over so that I was sort of doing a back stroke floating thing, just listening to songs on my ipod (which I had diligently remembered to carry along) and looking at the clouds, with the breeze blowing. And one of the clouds looked exactly like a statue of Lord Ganesha. All of which should have been petrifying at the time, but it wasn't.

And in other news, Remmer, my Russian classmate from M.A emailed. Felt nice. That's all folks.

Bis später,
The Cyniqueen

P.S - Going shopping for much needed home-clothes with my sis tomorrow!
Also, 'bis später' means 'until later' in German.

Dhan Te Nan....Tadadada..! (The Cyniqueen does some cynic-ing)

I went to watch Kaminey (Dhan Te Nan...Tadadada!) at Osia today. More of which later, we need to be talking about ME right now. [PMS alert!]

So yeah, Margao after you've gained a little bit of weight? Not kind. Met a guy who I haven't seen since college and don't know very well. After a brief hi or whatever, he says "So, you're fat." Just like that. I just smiled and nodded. But like WTF?

I mean I'm not fat, you know? Because in college I was stick-thin, like I needed to put on some weight. And now I've gained ein bisschen ... and suddenly what, I'm fat? And this PERSON, who I don't wanna judge but is no James Bond himself (to say the least), thinks he can say whatever the heck he wants to me just because I've gained weight? So even if you are in no way superior to someone, simply because they gain weight you obtain some sort of legitimacy to be rude in that way? And have you noticed, its only when you've gained weight. Never for acne, or bad hair, but always for weight increase. Aaaargh. (Am I overreacting? I don't care)

Plus, you know, I didn't say "hey, can't say that about you. You haven't changed at all. I mean, you're still as ugly as a buffalo's bottom. When it's sh*tting." Although I should've. But the thing is comebacks don't come to me till long after something like this has happened. And I'm usually boiling ferociously with rage/ stunned into silence by the sheer shock of it to even say something mean back to the Di*khead in question.

Whew. Okay. Steam blown off. Sort of. Read on. Will be better, I promise :-D

So, back to the day. Osia (theatre). Kaminey (Dhan Ta Nan...Tadadada!!). I was wearing my flowery, satiny 22nd birthday top. Maybe it's a bit too much, I mused as I got ready. But I needed the boost, because I was sure to meet lotsa people. And sure enough, I met about 3 people from school, 4 from college, not to mention those I just saw or know by face. I love my city : )

After Kaminey (Dhan Te Nan...Tadadada!!) D, Ella, my sis and I went to Canapé where I didn't recognize or talk to the owner's son, who was there and who I know. Felt so stupid later. That apart, the coffee was lovely and D (who goes regularly with Ella) made us order a grilled chicken sandwich thing, which was yummy. And I got the coffee reheated, which unfortunately I have to get done everywhere, almost every time. Because enlighten me – aren't hot beverages supposed to be hot? Right? Right? Then why don't people just bloody well serve it hot? The Ultimate Hot Chocolate at Mocha has always been lukewarm at best when I've ordered it. And they look weird at me when I ask to get it heated. People, I tell you.

The best part was meeting Manny from college (name changed, like all the others.Muahaha!), who's always been a sweetheart. Like someone whose cheeks you wanna pinch (but don't. Obviously). He's off to Australia in Jan. Hope to meet him before that.

Right now : Hindi songs I'm listening to (which is not a usual thing, me listening to Hindi songs) --

• DHAN TE NAN...Tadadada!!!! (Kaminey)
• Chor Bazaari (Love Aaj Kal)
• Raat Ke Dhai Baje (Kaminey)
• Thode Bheege (Kaminey)
• Aazma - Luck is the Key (Luck) - The rock version sung by Shruti Hassan. Is she hot or what? ;-)

Happy Independence Day! Have a great Sunday, y'all. I, on the other hand, will, how do you say, wallow in the misery that is my life...nah, I'm just messing around. Dhan Te Nan...Tadadada! Tadadadadadada...

Margao, Margao

Random things about my hometown:

It is still Hot. And sweaty. And does not help soothe skin which is already sensitive. Thus, acne. Hello, old pimply friends. Don't jostle for space now. There’s a spot on my face for everyone.

It is still soothingly quiet. Especially compared to my new place in Pune which is surrounded by street noise, construction cacophony and loudspeaker music. In my home in Goa, I can hear feathers falling on the ground outside. No, I’m not exaggerating.

There is almost no fish in the market, it seems. But it’s just started coming in, D told me today. Yay! Rava fried fish (in coconut oil), and spicy fire-red prawn curry. Tonight.

The lovely thing about my town-city which is still unchanged – you will bump into at least three people you know every time you step out of the house (Not a great thing when people all but stop short of saying ‘why dear, you look like a whale! Whatever did you eat?’’, but still. I think it’s pretty damn cool to bump into people you know like that).

An average eatery has only one type of coffee. Which makes me seem so snobbish and big city-ish to assume that there’s variety everywhere, I know. Maybe it was the Mocha, Barista hangover. But it actually happened at Canapé yesterday when I was gonna go order and 2 people said they wanted coffee and I asked 'What kinda coffee?' and they looked at me like I had asked for the square root of Bologna or something outrageous like that. Hmm… Miss the 6 Rupees coffee of the open canteen in Pune University though.

The seventeen year olds (based on the ones at Canapé yesterday) are still loud. And giggly. Ah, 11th std, how I miss thee…not!


Margao, Margao. How times change. You have a Levi’s store now. And Pepe. And Adidas and Reebok. No more trips to Panjim for brands. But so much more traffic. No traffic signals yet. But so many more people. No malls yet, thank God for that (Thank Goa for that, hehe). But big, big stores.
I love you because you’re small. Because you don’t have everything available like the big cities. Because you bring up people who are contented with their lives so that they walk, saunter even, but not run some mad rat race. Because you’re the perfect blend of village, town and city. Because I was born here. Because you raised me.
Change will happen. You will change, I will change. Taller buildings will come, with swimming pools and fitness clubs. The fields will dwindle. Take-out food will be freely available. Pollution will happen. And the people will stop walking and start running to keep pace with God knows what. But you will always, always be my hometown. And they can’t take that away from me.


There are many many crazy things
That will keep me loving you
And with your permission
May I list a few

The way you wear your hat
The way you sip your tea
The memory of all that
No they cant take that away from me

The way your smile just beams
The way you sing off key
The way you haunt my dreams
No they cant take that away from me

We may never never meet again, on that bumpy road to love
But Ill always, always keep the memory of

The way you hold your knife
The way we danced till three
The way you changed my life
No they cant take that away from me

(Writers: George and Ira Gershwin)

Cobwebs and Sunshine

Dude, its been so long already since I wrote in last. As I cough and sneeze through the tiresome clearing of the cobwebs of this blog (and shake off the dust blanket on my creativity), I vow yet again to keep writing. But psaw (its a new sound, like 'meh' or 'bleah' or 'eh'...you get the drift). Whenever I have time to write, it means there's nothing happening. And I'm too busy with the post-worthy stuff to actually write about it.

Stuff that has happened since the last time I blogged:

-(Fanfare and red carpet type music-) I now hold a Master's degree in English. Although I am yet to pick up, or apply for, my degree certificate.

-I have finished a course in German ('Tada!' music). The very beginners' course. The first of many to come.

-I moved from my cramped old place where five girls lived in a hall/kitchen and I was in the kitchen. For two years. With kitchen cockroaches for company. And at the very end, a baby gecko whom I lovingly christened Chhamiya. Still not sure what Chhamiya means though. So anyway, I now live on the first floor of a bungalow which is a huuuge airy 1 bhk. Like when the mobile rings and I'm at the other end of the house, I have to run to answer it on time. Like run run. Whee!

-I have grown as a person with learning all the new house-managing stuff.

-I have grown. Physically. As in weight-wise. Oh, I'm not fat. It's just the face and the arms. You know, the very first things you notice about a person. And I used to be bikini slim. Life's a bitch.

-And lastly, I am home in Goa between two German courses.

Looks like I'm home (from Pune) at a good time, what with all the swine flu cases on the rise. They say class will start a day later, on the 19th, but everyone's like don't go. It's weird how I actually miss having a routine that I have in Pune. Although, heh, I haven't even been home for a week.

So this line of pearl-like pimply things has sprouted on a part of my forehead after I got my eyebrows done last time. Hurrah for sensitive skin. Got new creams and gels to apply on my face now. As someone pointed out - Dermatologists have a cool thing going - there's always something up with everyone's skin. AND there's almost no risk of your patients dying. Maybe I shoulda done that. Oh right, I suck at Science.

Books - Dark Benediction by Walter M. Miller Jr. Sci Fi short stories. Took like 7 months to arrive after I'd first ordered it, but totally worth it.

Later.

Leftovers

I put away yesterday’s pasta
Wrapped off all the presents
Cleared trimmings
Gold-silver and shiny blue
Paper pieces from the pink scissors.

And I swept off the dirt
Your soaking shoes brought in
Black splotches still lie
On the speckled dull floor.

And I put out the garbage
(In rustling black bags
You bought on Thursday)
On the porch
Brought in more mud
Shut the door.

Latched the shutters
Fluffed the pillows
Took my pills
Said my prayers
And stashed away today.

There I found leftovers
That I forgot to throw
From your last touch
Your last words to me
Your pseudo –sympathy
It splintered my mind no more.

I switched on the little night lamp
(opened a window for air)
And tossed out yesterday.

Composed on 2nd December 2008, 1:15 am