This post is like peeking into the girls bathroom.....a bit of insight into our world, no matter how brash it sounds.... but I'd rather write it as myself than with a mask of anonymity.....
Ok......a girl's worst best friends are.....
1. Waxing: no, waxing isn't that bad.....unless you're sitting next to some hairy being who yelps, digging her fingers into her cheeks like she's going into labour pain. The pain is exaggerated, anticipation kills you when the evil parlour woman applies piping hot wax like jam on bread, flattens this plastic sheet against it, smoothens it.....smoothen......smoothen.....looks at your face with an sadistic grin [tongue out and all] and......shck.....ahhhhh!!!! no seriously, its not that bad, at the most I just bite my lips and cringe a bit.....
If you go to places like Lakme they give you their expert comments, "have you done your upper lip yet? no? thought so!" [it makes me feel like a gorilla, really!]. If you go to cheaper places, its like getting waxed in the middle of the road! One will be waxing your hands and the other your legs, making you stand in the position of a kathali dancer [albeit less graceful], so that they'll be done with you quickly, while other people getting threaded- beaded- whatever look on.....convos are in typical, amusing Hinglish, "aap bahut 'heighted' ho gayi hai"......
2. Blackhead removal: I just removed the blackheads on my nose once [they had grown to nearly look like mushrooms]. But seriously, after doing that just once, I'd rather never do it again! They steamed me up till I felt like an idli, and almost destroyed my nose [I really thought they intended to re-shape it], dug into them with tweezers like they expected to pull out bloodthirsty parasites! my nose still goes red merely thinking of it!
3. Tiny, t-i-n-y clasps: you find them everywhere.... necklaces, bracelets, shoe buckles. The worst kind are those in which you've dig your nail to open while desperately trying to close them on to the other end [an impossible feat, atleast a hour's task] and then while you do.....oops, they aren't tight enough.....slide.....smash! I swear, i'd break my nail, my head but never, ever, EVER manage to get the clasp in one go! why!!!! why can't you just make nice, big, ungraceful buckles? It'll help perpetually harassed people like me from getting a nervous breakdown! another hassle? there are these really tiny, tiny holes in which you have to put these...errr.....sticks.... [ok, this sounds so peverted]....wait.....i meant the really, tiny, nifty buckles.....and if they're on your shoes, you can't even use your teeth to fasten them unless you want to look completely wierd and die of a sprain....or maybe you can treat it as a dose of power yoga?
4. Delicate Bra straps: it took me a lifetime.....really, it took me a 'lifetime today' to get it right. I had brand new bra straps, transparent with brass buckles and all. It took me so freakin' long to fasten them on to the bra properly! either it came out totally twisted or bunched up while I tried to loosen it threatening to snap.....oh god! sorry, this is a beginners guide isn't it? I suppose I must explain....its sort of complicated to tighten or loosen the straps to fit you [maybe I'm just not used to these complicated ones].....the strap is double, so as you pull the buckle it becomes a single, longer strap or a double shorter strap if you tighten it....actually it may be the other way round.....trial and error! oof! I still haven't figured it out and if your not careful it kills you with complicated loops like a mobius strip, no- beggining-no- end- types.....arghhh!
5. Heels: ah! ah-ha! you were waiting for this weren't you? 'heels'....rhymes with 'jail'? no? no! guess not! I'm just really ungraceful! really! I mean I should know where to wear them right? certainly not for mall walking, which was first just supposed to be a get-together followed by quick dispersal. I'm brave though! I ventured out with [fairly] large wedge heels [large by my standard of shoes, a large 'stage' than flats surely]. I had everything to comfort me, a strap in the front, one at the back, semi-closes to reveal a toe-and-a-half, wedge heels [really wide, fat].....but I..... tottered.
But before you shut this window in disgust, I have my excuses, really, hear me out! Some really sadistic people had made ramps [ones that would make me half-slide and fully fall] in 'strategic' places where I had no way but to use them or get elbowed by some boors.....the pavement was cemented with tiny rectangles, the ones with tiny gaps that tip your heels over and since they're making the 'world's largest parking lot' close by, everything was uneven, first I was walking in cement, then stone, then jute, then someone's toes.....ouch!
And why do we do all this? why face torture when you can wear flats and loose shirts and jeans and tie up your hair? I dunno? guess it makes for good photographs and impressions that you can look back to all your life.....and memories of growing up into a woman, memories of the sweet-sour pain of shoe bites, and the digging in of straps and elastic and all.....and home grown, feet- grown corn [yuck!]......or maybe we're just masochists?
28 Jul 2009
19 Jul 2009
CORNERED: tweet fiction
I attempted to write really short stories.....shorter than flash fiction.....lesser than 300 characters, just a small experiment. The theme I chose was 'cornerned' from the perspective of different people, situations and things because whenever i read about someone in the newspaper, like MJ or Shiney Ahuja, I keep thanking my stars that I'm not in their place, reaching a dead end, totally cornered.....every person will interpret what I've written in a different way, that's why I've not specified whom or what I've written this about. Please drop in ur comments along with what u thought each one was about [each small paragraph is about a different thing.]
Cornered:
1. I sail down amongst the boxes, alone, with just me and without me. Silhouettes cheer me, stamp me, judge me, but I grapple alone in a corner, living on prescribed air. The air aches of me, the 'me' I struggle to grasp and slip from. Escaping left me with tags of me….. It’s the tags that cost a lot, the tags which come with a price.
2. Smother, smudge, a red burst, spread, bulb out…..fight the smothering, more than the layers, the smell of a strict fight, squeezed corner. I branch out, hide, die, and come out when you turn your back. Fight me teen, the heats with me; I’m a part of your forehead destiny.
3. Shock smudged eyes; they saw it as smoky black make-up. Murmur, rumour
Twitch, tangled
D
R
I
P
[ft]. Its sealed as you escape with me. Door vs. air, a thread with the dead.
Cornered:
1. I sail down amongst the boxes, alone, with just me and without me. Silhouettes cheer me, stamp me, judge me, but I grapple alone in a corner, living on prescribed air. The air aches of me, the 'me' I struggle to grasp and slip from. Escaping left me with tags of me….. It’s the tags that cost a lot, the tags which come with a price.
2. Smother, smudge, a red burst, spread, bulb out…..fight the smothering, more than the layers, the smell of a strict fight, squeezed corner. I branch out, hide, die, and come out when you turn your back. Fight me teen, the heats with me; I’m a part of your forehead destiny.
3. Shock smudged eyes; they saw it as smoky black make-up. Murmur, rumour
Twitch, tangled
D
R
I
P
[ft]. Its sealed as you escape with me. Door vs. air, a thread with the dead.
[if u want to know what they actually are about to match with ur interpretations, read the first comment :) ]
4 Jul 2009
all thrown in
I'm still recovering from the wedding.....a wedding that I had been excited about for seven months...... and its over......like the end of some grand festival......
The bride: Sanjana Govindan.....she remembers me since when i was zero [or so she says]. I remember her since when I was a pesky toddler and she was an exasperated pre-teen, jealous of the extra holidays these insect-like five year olds get......and we've been in touch since then because our moms are best friends [i'll leave the details and webs of stories for later]. So when I heard she's getting married *gasp*, i checked my own scalp for grey hair [none] and pondered over this suddenly apparent generation leap [yeah, K-serial style].
I always thought 'the bridal glow' was way too filmy.....but when I was greeting by this flushed pink face of the bride I was forced to believe it......mehndi wasn't a large affair but thanks to those little building kids who practically bombed the place, dried shavings of mehndi and a clogged basin were what we were left with. we did attempt to dance a bit till the bride's mom began getting palpitations about the noise and excitement and wedding and decided that we must quiten down a bit. Our mehndi had dried up.....pretty designs but obviously nothing as intricate as the bride's. They had even inscribed the groom's name, each letter somewhere in the hand, but she only managed to find the J! [check pics on fb]
Edit. Cut. Let me jump straight to the wedding. Murphy’s law vs. Rheaa’s law. What? Not very philosophical, believe me. Murphy’s law: if anything can go wrong, it will go wrong [pretty pessimistic if you ask me]. Rheaa’s law: if anything can go right, it will go right [yeah, call me a cheap imitation]. Why am I mentioning this instead of the wedding? Oh my followers, you should know by now, drama, drama!!
Supporters of Murphy’s law:
Traffic signals [if you catch one, you’ll catch them all…..especially when you’re in an infernal hurry to get to the wedding site]
Trains [on the day of the wedding, after all that pleading of those Lakme women to come early….yup, the electrical wire holding the train in Mulund collapsed, so did the entire western line…..and we were late!]
Rain [I’m a monsoon baby, but I would get crabby when the rain caused traffic jams and wet my sari]
Supporters of Rheaa’s law:
Rheaa [thaaaaaat’s me!]
The lakme girls [at least they managed to drape me in sari in a jiffy]
Our neighbours [even though there’s this India-Pakistan hostility between us, they did help me drape the sari (even though we got the lakme people to re-drape it)]
So I stumbled in, pushing all the people on the boy’s side who were getting ready to burst in and snatch the bride away. I was supposed to hold a plate with a diya and flowers and walk around in a line of young, unmarried girls and then around the mantap [stage] but alas there were no more trays left so I walked around pretending I was holding a tray and shielding the flame from going out…..when it began to look absurd I walked around flashing my million dollar smile and politely ‘namaste-ing’ all those poor, harassed dears around me.
Enter the groom…..with a polite smile looking rather please and slightly embarrassed at the ‘shenai’ people going complete beserk with loud, extra-dramatic typical Indian wedding music and everyone grinning at him with that ‘ah-ha, caught you’ look. But he has that poise, that calm way of reassuring people that everything was fine and that he wasn’t going to run away.
Enter the bride from the other side amongst the gasps of admiration and the convulsed head-turning of those shenai people giving in all that they had to hammer into people, “marriage, marriage, marriage!!!!” with that single…..single…..haunting tune……I still hear it…..
Decked was the word. If I say that her face shown more than all her jewels: her ornate necklaces, ancient family lion claw necklace, her armlets, her shimmery delicate red sari, her sexy blouse, her hair done up with flowers from end to end…..*gasps for breath*…..if I say this, you may call me soppy, but its true. I’ll never find the perfect word, the perfect phrase to describe the bride…… “ there were tears in my eyes when I saw her” my mom attempted. Its like seeing a completely different person, the beauty you may not have given much thought to earlier, the features sharpened by the glisten….and then you think……do I know her? Have I known her all this while? Okay….stop! too mom-crying-in-hindi-film-types……
Soon we [the ‘bridesmaids’] were circling the mantap…..the garlands were exchanged, the couple did their rounds……over……blessings were taken, they were fed bananas-and-milk…..touched everyone’s feet…..over…..over!!!!! In five minutes!!!!! The whole wedding!!!! Sealing a commitment of a lifetime!!!!!! Sealed…..finished….. [No, I’m not commitment phobic; I was just trying to sink it into my head]
Now for the juicy titbits……
1. My mom, in her excitement of clicking pictures came in the way of the couple while they were doing the ‘pheras’ [rounds] around the mantap [its done that way in Malyalee weddings instead of around the fire] and instead of 7 rounds, its just four according to their rituals [parle 20-20 khao, short mein niptao, huh?]. Anyway, they couldn’t stop, and she didn’t realize she’s in the way despite my screaming [some people never listen do they]…….*dramatic pause* *turn to shocked faces of everyone, going pale*…… until a bob-cut-aunty saved the day and pulled her aside. Whew!
2. some sadistic person had placed lots of wires around mantap…..making it difficult for sari-and-heel-clad souls like me to walk around……a little later, I had to run to keep up……
THE FOOD: now you know my history of gluttony! We were seated at long tables with rose petal spreads and served malyalee food on a plate with banana leaves!! Normally I don’t like south Indian food much…..but who can refuse rice with ghee and rasam, beans with grated coconut, lots of things I couldn’t name but were oh-so-delicious…….and the desserts!!!!!!!!! The desserts beat ‘em all……piping hot jackfruit paysam and hot and sweet kheer [someone help me with the technical names]. The jackfruit paysam was thick, yellow-occur and tickled my taste buds [even the bitter, sour, salty buds begged for an extra serving], complete with small pieces of tender jackfruit, the overpowering essence of which had spread all around the dish, naturally. The sweet kheer was creamy, of perfect consistency with vermicelli blended in so well, not like large worms like I feel when I’m eating some other kheer…….yum……to die for…….competes with chocolate for the top ten tastes of my life <3
The reception had great food too…..a mix of everything for people of all shapes and sizes….. and I just couldn’t wait to dig into eat but for some pesky old ladies who tried to remember where they met me, and how small I was then, and blah blah while THEY were eating while depriving me of the same…..argh! No one comes in the way of Rheaa and her food [specially desserts], otherwise I love endless chattering. Anyway, the reception food. There was thai, Chinese, live dosas, Punjabi……but nothing beats our afternoon malyalee lunch! I’m a fan, I swear! I piled myself with a plate of mixed kulfi! Hmmmm….creamy, fruitilicious…….and walnut halwa, crunchy and g-o-o-e-y……
And then I felt sorry for the newly wed couple……they could only get their paws on the
food after saying hello to the lot……and you know how long the hellllewwws
can get here with dollops of gossip and a pinch of salt and the chatter of old
ladies…….
in the meanwhile my heels began to pinch me.....its a sign.......time to get home! ;)
The bride: Sanjana Govindan.....she remembers me since when i was zero [or so she says]. I remember her since when I was a pesky toddler and she was an exasperated pre-teen, jealous of the extra holidays these insect-like five year olds get......and we've been in touch since then because our moms are best friends [i'll leave the details and webs of stories for later]. So when I heard she's getting married *gasp*, i checked my own scalp for grey hair [none] and pondered over this suddenly apparent generation leap [yeah, K-serial style].
I always thought 'the bridal glow' was way too filmy.....but when I was greeting by this flushed pink face of the bride I was forced to believe it......mehndi wasn't a large affair but thanks to those little building kids who practically bombed the place, dried shavings of mehndi and a clogged basin were what we were left with. we did attempt to dance a bit till the bride's mom began getting palpitations about the noise and excitement and wedding and decided that we must quiten down a bit. Our mehndi had dried up.....pretty designs but obviously nothing as intricate as the bride's. They had even inscribed the groom's name, each letter somewhere in the hand, but she only managed to find the J! [check pics on fb]
Edit. Cut. Let me jump straight to the wedding. Murphy’s law vs. Rheaa’s law. What? Not very philosophical, believe me. Murphy’s law: if anything can go wrong, it will go wrong [pretty pessimistic if you ask me]. Rheaa’s law: if anything can go right, it will go right [yeah, call me a cheap imitation]. Why am I mentioning this instead of the wedding? Oh my followers, you should know by now, drama, drama!!
Supporters of Murphy’s law:
Traffic signals [if you catch one, you’ll catch them all…..especially when you’re in an infernal hurry to get to the wedding site]
Trains [on the day of the wedding, after all that pleading of those Lakme women to come early….yup, the electrical wire holding the train in Mulund collapsed, so did the entire western line…..and we were late!]
Rain [I’m a monsoon baby, but I would get crabby when the rain caused traffic jams and wet my sari]
Supporters of Rheaa’s law:
Rheaa [thaaaaaat’s me!]
The lakme girls [at least they managed to drape me in sari in a jiffy]
Our neighbours [even though there’s this India-Pakistan hostility between us, they did help me drape the sari (even though we got the lakme people to re-drape it)]
So I stumbled in, pushing all the people on the boy’s side who were getting ready to burst in and snatch the bride away. I was supposed to hold a plate with a diya and flowers and walk around in a line of young, unmarried girls and then around the mantap [stage] but alas there were no more trays left so I walked around pretending I was holding a tray and shielding the flame from going out…..when it began to look absurd I walked around flashing my million dollar smile and politely ‘namaste-ing’ all those poor, harassed dears around me.
Enter the groom…..with a polite smile looking rather please and slightly embarrassed at the ‘shenai’ people going complete beserk with loud, extra-dramatic typical Indian wedding music and everyone grinning at him with that ‘ah-ha, caught you’ look. But he has that poise, that calm way of reassuring people that everything was fine and that he wasn’t going to run away.
Enter the bride from the other side amongst the gasps of admiration and the convulsed head-turning of those shenai people giving in all that they had to hammer into people, “marriage, marriage, marriage!!!!” with that single…..single…..haunting tune……I still hear it…..
Decked was the word. If I say that her face shown more than all her jewels: her ornate necklaces, ancient family lion claw necklace, her armlets, her shimmery delicate red sari, her sexy blouse, her hair done up with flowers from end to end…..*gasps for breath*…..if I say this, you may call me soppy, but its true. I’ll never find the perfect word, the perfect phrase to describe the bride…… “ there were tears in my eyes when I saw her” my mom attempted. Its like seeing a completely different person, the beauty you may not have given much thought to earlier, the features sharpened by the glisten….and then you think……do I know her? Have I known her all this while? Okay….stop! too mom-crying-in-hindi-film-types……
Soon we [the ‘bridesmaids’] were circling the mantap…..the garlands were exchanged, the couple did their rounds……over……blessings were taken, they were fed bananas-and-milk…..touched everyone’s feet…..over…..over!!!!! In five minutes!!!!! The whole wedding!!!! Sealing a commitment of a lifetime!!!!!! Sealed…..finished….. [No, I’m not commitment phobic; I was just trying to sink it into my head]
Now for the juicy titbits……
1. My mom, in her excitement of clicking pictures came in the way of the couple while they were doing the ‘pheras’ [rounds] around the mantap [its done that way in Malyalee weddings instead of around the fire] and instead of 7 rounds, its just four according to their rituals [parle 20-20 khao, short mein niptao, huh?]. Anyway, they couldn’t stop, and she didn’t realize she’s in the way despite my screaming [some people never listen do they]…….*dramatic pause* *turn to shocked faces of everyone, going pale*…… until a bob-cut-aunty saved the day and pulled her aside. Whew!
2. some sadistic person had placed lots of wires around mantap…..making it difficult for sari-and-heel-clad souls like me to walk around……a little later, I had to run to keep up……
THE FOOD: now you know my history of gluttony! We were seated at long tables with rose petal spreads and served malyalee food on a plate with banana leaves!! Normally I don’t like south Indian food much…..but who can refuse rice with ghee and rasam, beans with grated coconut, lots of things I couldn’t name but were oh-so-delicious…….and the desserts!!!!!!!!! The desserts beat ‘em all……piping hot jackfruit paysam and hot and sweet kheer [someone help me with the technical names]. The jackfruit paysam was thick, yellow-occur and tickled my taste buds [even the bitter, sour, salty buds begged for an extra serving], complete with small pieces of tender jackfruit, the overpowering essence of which had spread all around the dish, naturally. The sweet kheer was creamy, of perfect consistency with vermicelli blended in so well, not like large worms like I feel when I’m eating some other kheer…….yum……to die for…….competes with chocolate for the top ten tastes of my life <3
The reception had great food too…..a mix of everything for people of all shapes and sizes….. and I just couldn’t wait to dig into eat but for some pesky old ladies who tried to remember where they met me, and how small I was then, and blah blah while THEY were eating while depriving me of the same…..argh! No one comes in the way of Rheaa and her food [specially desserts], otherwise I love endless chattering. Anyway, the reception food. There was thai, Chinese, live dosas, Punjabi……but nothing beats our afternoon malyalee lunch! I’m a fan, I swear! I piled myself with a plate of mixed kulfi! Hmmmm….creamy, fruitilicious…….and walnut halwa, crunchy and g-o-o-e-y……
And then I felt sorry for the newly wed couple……they could only get their paws on the
food after saying hello to the lot……and you know how long the hellllewwws
can get here with dollops of gossip and a pinch of salt and the chatter of old
ladies…….
in the meanwhile my heels began to pinch me.....its a sign.......time to get home! ;)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)