December 22, 2012

Spaceman Spiff adds a life event to her timeline


Married.

M.A.R.R.I.E.D.

That’s right. I’m married.

Like, for real.

I’m sorry, but it’s gonna take some time for the mammoth fact to sink in. So till then, you might have to put up with me saying ‘I’m married’ at the most unexpected intervals.

So that’s what’s been happening, folks! The wedding was on the 10th of December, a reception the same day evening at Palakkad, and a reception in Trivandrum on 14th. The reception is TVM was so much fun, with dancing and all that. The wedding as such went off without any major disasters, and I behaved as well as I possibly could. Although, my aunt was heard complaining that ‘the bride’ wasn’t showing even a tinge of shyness or nervousness. Not even for courtesy sake. I was probably the one laughing and talking the loudest.   

After a week of wedding madness, we took off to Goa. And Goa was just fab! We spent three days in North Goa and two days in South Goa. Went for water sports and parasailing (second time this year. Ain’t that cool! J ), stuffed our faces with all kinds of seafood, drank ourselves silly, and generally chilled out. Palolem beach in South Goa was just beautiful. If ever you plan a trip to Goa, do visit Palolem. It’s a lot more beautiful and peaceful than the crowded beaches of North Goa.

As I write this, I’m sitting at Bangalore airport, waiting to catch my connecting flight to Coimbatore, from where we’ll to go to Palakkad. I look around me at the waiting lounge and I see a lot of strangers. And then I look next to me, and see this guy, with his nose buried in a book, who was a stranger to me till a few months back, but has somehow become the reason for my happiness right now. I don’t even know if I can call it happiness. I am...at peace. Maybe it’s him. Maybe it’s Goa. Maybe it’s just God letting me know that he’s out there, looking out for me. 

I’ll be off to Chennai next week. Brand new city, brand new husband, brand new life. I’ll keep you guys posted about how marriage is treating me. Wish me luck, ok? J Because I need lots of it.

Fuck!! I’m married!! :O

November 16, 2012

Clutch evide? Brake evide?!


Before you read the post, please watch the video.


Watched? If you’re a Malayali, then you probably know this scene frame-by-frame and know the dialogues by heart. If you’re a Malayali but don’t know this scene, shame on you. Go hide under a rock or something.

For the non-Mallus, this is an epic scene from the Malayalam movie Thalayanamanthram, written by a genius named Sreenivasan. He is one of the most brilliant writers of Malayalam- nay, Indian cinema. He is one of the ugliest actors ever, and his genius lies in the fact that he makes fun of himself in his own movies at every given chance. The guy behind the wheel, trying to drive the car, is Sreenivasan.  

Let me give a quick summary of the scene, for those who couldn’t understand it. Sreenivasan is trying to learn how to drive a car, Mammukoya (the other actor)is trying to teach him. Sreenivasan doesn’t know the clutch from the brake, and keeps asking where one or the other is. “Clutch evide?! Brake evide?!” (Where is the clutch? Where is the brake?!) has become an  epic dialogue in Malayalam cinema, oft quoted by Malayalis whenever such a driving situation arises.  

Now imagine, in place of Sreenivasan, Yours Truly. Thankfully I know where the clutch and brake are. But the rest of the situation is pretty much the same. Oh, and I haven't gone and rammed into a wall. Yet. *gulps*

Am I learning driving, you ask? No no. of course not. That I learnt in 2007. Got my license too. Only, the license has been serving the purpose of an ID card more than anything else. You see, after I learnt driving in 2007 and got my license (which was a major hurdle in itself. I had to take the test twice to pass it. I got the H correct the first time, but failed the road test because I forgot to put my hand out and give the hand-signals. The two-wheeler test, I passed only on my third attempt. What can I say; 8 is just too hard a number.), I moved to Hyderabad. I had absolutely no practice at all, and lost complete touch. Acha never gave me the car whenever I came down to TVM (in his own words “You can take the car out if it is a bandh day” L ), and I wasn’t very interested in it anyways. I was happy sitting back and watching the traffic go by, while someone else drove me around. Plus, traffic- especially buses- scares the living daylights out of me.  

So why am I saying all this now? Because I have started going for driving practice classes. And I realized that I had underestimated myself. I am much MUCH worse than I had thought I was! Right from pressing both clutch and accelerator together and causing the car to do nothing much other than make racing noises, to forgetting to step on the brake while passing over a speed-breaker, it’s one big mess. The only thing I’m good at is holding on to the steering wheel for dear life.

My “Thalayanamanthram” moment was when the instructor told me to change the gear, and I asked her “What gear? Which gear?” because I had forgotten what gear I had put it on previously. L The driving-class-car already has a pretty rattled up gear-box, not to mention the CBA’s, which need to be pushed down with a bulldozer. Instead of changing it to first from second, I end up putting it in third gear. And put it in fourth when I'm told to put it in reverse. Add to this a mess of a driver like me, and there you have it- a catastrophe on wheels. Thankfully, they have an extra set of controls on the instructor’s side.

But S promised me that if I learn how to drive, we can go on many road trips. That’s the only reason I’m doing this. God save him and his Figo.

You know that bike-tyre ad with the tagline “The roads are full of idiots”? Sigh… I couldn't agree more.

Love,
One of those idiots.     

October 24, 2012

All that glitters is too much gold!


I’m alive, very much, in case you were wondering.

An anxious comment by a kind reader the other day, asking for my whereabouts, reminded me that I have a blog where I haven’t posted anything for quite a while (Thanks, Asok, for the concern). Alright, I’m lying. I didn't exactly forget about my blog. I've just been a bit caught up with various things, mostly wedding-y stuff. Plus, I honestly wasn't able to write anything good enough to post here.

 So what have I been up to? Let’s see…

Quit my job. Packed up five fabulous years of my life into bags & boxes and said adieu to Hyderabad (grudgingly), reached Trivandrum, went to Chennai for a quick three-day shopping trip, picked up saris, came back to TVM, bought a bit of gold, etc etc etc.

All of which has strengthened my belief in one thing- weddings are such an utter waste of money!!!

I mean, what a waste! Before we left for Chennai, I had told Acha and Amma that I will not be buying a very expensive sari, even if I have to say a firm no to my in-laws (I can’t snap at them like I snap at my parents, right? Nope. Too early to show them my true Mahakali colours), who’d accompanied us too. I don’t mean to sound like a snobbish bride, but I don’t see any reason why I should buy a sari worth one lakh rupees (yes, I did see saris I that range. And there were girls trying them too), when a sari worth Rs.5000 will look equally pretty. So when I was choosing my saris, the question that I asked myself was “Will I ever wear this again?”, as opposed to the more commonly asked “Is this gaudy enough? Will it make me look like a festival elephant?”. Thankfully, I didn’t have to fight too much of a battle over this. I think I must thank the mind-boggling crowd in the stores for this. We were so bloody sick of the rush, we just wanted to wind up and get the hell out of there as quickly as ‘wedding-shopping-ly’ possible. I picked up moderately priced, gorgeous silk saris that I can wear again after the wedding.

Next came the bigger battle- buying gold. I’m not a fan of the yellow metal. And you know how Malayalis are about gold, right? Unless they wear it like an armour, they’re not satisfied. I would rather be dead than wear that armour. So before setting out to buy gold today, I had very clearly and politely told my folks not to buy too much, because there was no chance that I was going to wear more than four chains (which itself is too much!). Also, the price of gold is obscenely high now. But the insane crowd at the jewelry store would have us believe that gold is even cheaper than green chillies. It was mad! Anyway, I picked up a couple of antique gold pieces, which doesn't have that ugly sheen of the normal gold. But the downside of buying antique gold is that it’s almost double the price. Sigh…

But the waste of money doesn't end with the saris and the gold. There’s so much more to be done, so much more money that is going to be spent on it all. But each time I protest, I’m silenced with a “You don’t bother about the money” by Acha. Also a “You can’t always have your way” by Amma. They don’t understand that it’s not about getting my way. Imagine how many trips I could’ve gone to with that money. Think of how many children could’ve been educated with that money. But it doesn’t work that way, I’ve come to realize. This thing called wedding, it’s something that parents dream of probably since the day their daughters are born. And when it’s a dream that’s as long-cherished as that, they won’t let anything get in the way of it. Not even adamant daughters or Burj Khalifa-high gold rate.

You know what? I’m definitely going to encourage my kids to elope.

September 13, 2012

The bumpy ride called marriage

You know how I’m getting married in December and all that jazz, right?

Ever since it all got finalized, I’ve had this niggling feeling at the back of my mind, whether everything will be fine or not. It is but natural, considering I’m a constant worrier. Would we get along well? Will we be able to co-exist peacefully?

I mean, we ARE quite different.

Me- loud : He- comparatively quiet.
Me- drama queen : He- level-headed.
Me- Starts dancing even in autos to Himesh Reshammiya songs (I’m NOT proud of it): He- has two left feet,
Me- follows Bollywood and actually READS Filmfare and doesn’t buy it just to look at the pictures : He- doesn’t watch movies at all that much.
Me- lazybones: He- quite the fitness freak.
Me- LOVES her weekends and staunchly believes in “There’s never enough time to do all the nothing you want": He: can’t sit still even on weekends.
Me- can’t stand others’ mess: he- is quite good at messing up the place.
Me- to whom people say “Oh god, stop laughing so loud! People are looking!”: He- should definitely laugh more often. He likes his brooding persona way too much.
Me- does things like calling up someone on their birthday ten times during the day and simply wishing them, quotes dialogues from Malayalam movies a bit too often, sings “Sutta na mila” along with the MC-BC lyrics loudly while riding pillion on someone’s bike, etc.: He- has his quirks but doesn’t display them so blatantly to the rest of the world.

I think I should end the list here before I freak myself out completely.

So yes, these small things have been at the back of my mind. I mean, I’m happy with him and all that, which is why I said yes in the first place, but you know… you know? Then I thought, “What’s the fun if two people are exactly of the same personality? They should complement each other, right?”

It’s with this khichdi in my head that I started reading Yashodhara Lal’s “Just married, Please Excuse”. And Ma’m, may I just say, Thank. You. So. Much.



Just Married… is the (true) story of Yashodhara and Vijay, two very different people who fall in love and get married. She’s a city girl from Delhi, he’s from small town Jaipur. She loves non-veg, he’s a Brahmin who eats only chicken nuggets and eggs. She’s quite the firebrand, he’s slightly less of a firebrand. They both have an opinion on every single thing, and more often than not, the opinions differ.

Yashodhara takes us on a trip through their marriage, right from where he proposes (not exactly the most romantic proposal) to where they’re struggling with being first-time parents. The book is filled with vignettes from their lives that are so funny, I was laughing uproariously through most of it. A first date watching ducks and fishing, the seemingly unending search for a bright-blue sofa that doesn't sweat and in the process, making life hell for the salespersons, likening Vijay in his wedding attire to a giant tube of Colgate toothpaste are some of the hilarous one. And the beauty of it is that it is all so real (or at least I’m assuming it is). The problems that they face are common ones that probably every married couple goes through. The characters are people you and I can relate to (Dear Yashodara, what I could relate to the most about you was your sarcasm).

It’s a very unpretentious book. There aren’t fancy-sounding words or long-winding sentences that'll stop making sense halfway through. The author doesn’t try to paint any rosy pictures about marriage. She tells it like it is, without giving any unnecessary gyaan. She just narrates their story, and leaves it to us to derive lessons from it.

And what’s the lesson that I’ve learnt? That it’s not impossible. You can be as different as chalk and cheese, but can still make the marriage work. All it takes is a LOT of effort and a few sessions with a psycho marriage counselor who’ll make you realize that marriage isn’t one of those things that can be repaired in ’12 steps’. It’s entirely up to the husband and the wife to make it work. If both of them want to hang on to each other come what may, then they’ll find a way to make it happen. It’s about accepting and embracing each other’s differences and loving them for it. Don’t let ego ruin the relationship, and be willing to make small little adjustments that’ll ultimately make things a whole lot better for both of you. Oh and love and all that jazz too (I won’t comment woo much about this one).

So what if Yashodhara didn’t give gyaan. I never said I won’t.

The book has a lot of heart. It is deliciously sarcastic, funny, witty, humorous, and any other synonym you can think of for the same. If you pass it off thinking it's just another run-of-the-mill Indian author trying to ply her IIM story or as a chicklit, then you're missing out on a truly good book. It’s one of those books that, when you finish reading it, wish there was more of. The book has made me hopeful that S & I will be just fine, as long as we both really want to make it work. Thank you for that, Mrs. Yashodhara Lal. You have earned yourself a fan.

September 11, 2012

Turning 26

I rang in my last birthday along with three very important people.

One of them is no longer a part of my life.

Another one is on a self-imposed indefinite sabbatical from me.

The third person, thankfully, is still in my life. I had almost lost her too, but better sense prevailed and we both hung on.

This last one year has been one of the most turbulent years of my life.

I thought I would be married by my 26th birthday, to the guy I was in love with. And I tried with every fibre of my being to make it happen. But God had other plans. God said “Let’s see how grown-up you are” and threw a bunch of googlies in my way. I don’t know how well I have dealt with them, but dealt with them, I have, for sure.

So here I am, on my 26th, with my Lily and Marshall. Still single, engaged to be married by this year-end. I don’t know whether I am happy or not. I still eye happiness with a little bit of suspicion. It’ll take time, but I’m working on it. But I think I’m content. At peace, if I may. My demons don’t bother me so much lately. They haven’t gone away completely, either. That’ll take time as well. I’m slowly trying to prepare myself for a whole new life phase.

This is my last birthday in Hyderabad. The city I've come to look upon as my own. The thought of leaving is killing me, but I have to go. This place has too many memories. I may never be able to move on in life if I continue to stay here. So more than preparing myself for marriage, I’ve been trying to prepare myself for leaving my Hyderabad. The withdrawal symptoms have started.

Turning 26, definitely hasn’t been easy.

But hey, I’m still alive. And that’s something to celebrate, isn't it? :)

Happy birthday, me.

ETA: I posted this after midnight on 12th. I don't know why the date is showing as 11th.