Blogshetra resumes

So, at long last, I have restarted this project and hopefully will see it through. I couldn’t remember where I last left off (should have just checked this blog, duh!) so I started all over again.

Unfortunately, I had a craving for Janet Evanovich and her Stephanie Plum series and went back to work and so could pick up the books from the local library so this has taken a backseat again but, even if truncated, I’m hoping to get through it by and by.

I stopped at the part where the Pandavas are in hiding from Duryodhan and are now in a village pretending to be brahmanas. So considering I’ve already been through this before, will just post some more observations:

1. I noticed that in the first part of the epic women, and men’s lust for women, seems to be the cause of many of the events. This may be because the start of the story is about beginnings and beginnings come from births so women are naturally involved. Many of these births have a human mother and a supernatural father, with the exception of Bheeshma who hadGangaas his mother and a human king as his father. Reminded me of Mary and the immaculate conception, which I’ve always thought of as ridiculous and a bit suspicious. Looks like there is a tradition of this sort of narrative in religious texts though. Later in the Mahabharat, Duryodhan actually airs what might have crossed many minds – that the paternity of the Pandavas is in question. The Mahabharat is refreshingly honest about the power of lust though. Men, even rishis, seem to be overcome by lust for women and grant them magical favours to be able to have sex with them. The women are not condemned for being lustful either, maybe because they lusting after gods and/or their ilk.
2. As the story progressed, I noticed caste and the positions of people in society gaining prominence. For example, the incident with Ekalavya and then the story of Karna. It is completely normal to diss a person simply because of their caste and the expected scheme of things to tell them that’s where they should stay.
3. Like last time, I found Arjuna more and more irritating. He wanted to be the best archer in the world by any means, not just fair means. How noble is that?
4. When things are weighted artificially in the Pandavas favour, there is often some little speech from those who intervened on their behalf that they had premonitions of fate and that’s why they did it. For example, Drona making Ekalavya cut off his thumb. This seems to be a very convenient device to excuse impartiality and injustice. Then again, maybe there is something in this – there are things you cannot prevent, so best to go along with them.
5. Duryodhan, who till now was painted as a uniformly evil character, redeems himself somewhat by making the speech in favour of Karna and pointing out that one can become a kshatriya by demonstrating great valour and not just by birth. Although it is suggested that he sided with Karna for his own ends, the speech seemed heartfelt and convinced most people. I felt more sympathic to Duryodhan then.
6. Bheem is made out of be quite the flirt and favourite with the ladies. He seems to be a favourite character of many of the ladies.

That’s it for now. Coming up, Draupadi enters the picture so that should be interesting.

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Up and Down day

Up: At 2 am. Literally. To feed baby. This is normal.

Down: Baby does not sleep till 6 am.

Up: Get 2 hour nap from 7 am to 9 am. Wake up feeling refreshed.

Down: Realised V asked helpers to bottle feed baby expressed milk instead of waking me, throwing feeding schedule into disarray.

Up: Feed Mimi at 10 am and schedule seems to be ok. Leave for manicure which V bought for me on one of those group buying websites he seems addicted to. In retrospect a bad idea as I really don’t have time for this sort of stuff. But by the time I leave for it, I’m feeling like it’s a good idea.

Down: Manicure lady calls when 10 minutes away from the not-very-conveniently located place saying she will be half an hour late as she is at the doctor. Ends up being an hour late.

Up: Manicure lady apologises profusely and manicure turns out to be fairly good. Have a nice chat with her while nails are drying.

Down: My next appointment was supposed to be with counsellor-type person for alleged post-partum depression. Calls to cancel because she is sick. WTH. Everyone seems to be sick today. Not that I am going to off myself soon or something but was quite looking forward to venting.

Up: Decide to go buy myself jeans instead. Sick of wearing maternity jeans that make me look like a hip hop type gone wrong. Manage to find pair that fits new size and is fairly cheap and hence ok to be discarded when resume old size (optimistic I know).

Down: Manicure entirely ruined trying on jeans. What exactly is the point of sitting for half and hour drying nails when one can do nothing with hands after that also?

Moral of the story: Avoid manicures – the time spent sitting and drying nails is one of the most boring activities ever invented, even worse than when the facialist puts a mask on you and leaves the room. And even after all that time your nails are not safe. Better just to cut nails and get on with it.

 

 

 

Just Read

The next batch of books arrived with the Bil*

Dork by Sidin Vadukut: I love Sidin’s columns in Mint so I was keen to read this one though I had been warned it wasn’t all that. And sadly, the detractor was right. On a positive note, it is a good example of how to write in a colloquial voice and still be writing in English (as opposed to bad grammar, typos etc. that gets passed off as the common man’s English). I think it was aiming to be something like Bridget Jones’s Diary for guys. Only it ended up more like Mr. Bean. The protagonist was not so much annoying as too caricature like and therefore impossible to identify with. Maybe Mr. Bean is the guy’s version of Bridget Jones in which case maybe this book works for the male gender. Unfortunately Sil bought the sequel too which I shall now feel obliged to read.

Princess of Shadows by Indu Sundaresan: I had asked for Twentieth Wife but this one – the last in the series – was the only one available. I love historical novels and although this one takes quite a few liberties in terms of plot, the historical details in terms of the running of the empire, architecture, and the anecdotes the story is built out of are well researched. I love that it’s opened up a fascinating period of history and humanised the Mughals, including Aurangzeb who, because I grew up in Maharashtra and spent 10 years reading the same history of Shivaji over and over, had been etched in my mind as a villain. I had also been kind of cynical about the Shah Jahan and Mumtaz Mahal love story but now I’m more of a believer and I really want to see the Taj and visit Delhi. Ah one more thing to do with my babies when they grow up.

On Balance by Leila Seth: This one is an autobiography and I got it on the recommendation of Dipali. The author is Vikram Seth’s mother but more to the point, the first female high court judge in India. I was a little disappointed starting out because the language was simple and the anecdotes a little ordinary but by 50 pages I was quite into it and as it progresses it gets really interesting – particularly the parts about being the lone woman in the legal arena at her time, the insights into how the courts and the upper judiciary function as well as how she dealt with the interesting choices of her children as a mother.

Jimmy The Terrorist by Omair Ahmad: A really well-written novella about the birth of a criminal, written in a style that reminds me of Salman Rushdie’s. Wasn’t crazy about the end, felt that it should have been elaborated more but then I read that this was originally a short story that he expanded and it made sense why it seemed to end a little too soon. But worth reading anyway.

Bah.

Despite refusing to buy into the whole developmental milestone mania/ paranoia that inevitably besets parents, I wondered if I should be anxious about Benji not saying “mamma/dadda” yet as all wisdom said he should be by 15 months. So, to the amusement of my helper who accompanied me to his doctor’s appointment (for a vaccination not just to ask about this), I asked the doctor. And he said not to worry as boys generally start late and Benji was saying some words.

Ok, so his first word was – “this”. He would – and still does – point imperiously at something and say “this” and we would give it to him, or so he expected.

His second word was… not Mamma or Dadda… but Car. How much more Boy can anyone get? Ok so he does spend a fair amount of time at the window looking down at cars and generally seems to have a mania for them and stuff with wheels in general but still. Anyway is a word is a word and we should have been glad expect that then he just started saying “Car” randomly so one wondered if it could be considered a legitimate word. As my sister’s pediatrician told her: “If it’s not repeated, it doesn’t count.”

So just when I’m telling the doc that he says “Car” to prove that he’s not, after all, speech delayed, and the doc was saying how Car is a more complex sound, Benji points to something totally random on his desk and goes “Car!”. Embarrassing.

Anyway, since then he has graduated to saying Car for just vehicles, including trucks, buses etc., though it remains his enthu word of choice and he will sometimes just randomly say Car for the sheer joy of it.  Word number four was “Ba”… to convey Bus. And then “cock” for clock.

And finally – I assume after much coaching but still – Dada. Traitorous, traitorous child. After the yuck of pregnancy, the horror of childbirth, the fatigue of those early days, you choose Dada first.

All I can say is Bah.

Seven Random Things – the end

Finally. *drumroll, sighs of relief etc.*

Allergy number 2 (if you got through the last post). Ok I momentarily forgot what it was but here it is…

Talking on the telephone. I don’t like it. I’m a bad conversationalist in person – though I did get better in my mid-20s but have now regressed – and the phone is worse for the very reasons it’s supposed to be best… Because it’s a live conversation. The problem is that unlike an actually live conversation:

1. You cannot actually see the person so you can’t make conversation of the usual visual cues you might have relied on if the conversation was in person, such as ‘have you done something with your hair’.

2. Because one has actually picked up phone and called, you have to say something. Two people just sitting on a couch and not talking would be considered weird but could be passed off as companionable silence. Two silent people on the phone is just… weird. That’s why awkward silences on the phone are just so much more awkward. And I have lots of those.

So since childhood have hated phone and just refused to talk to father when he called from abroad – imagine the terror of small talk on a trunk call in the 80s. Then V and I had long distance relationship and I just had to learn to talk on the phone and I succeeded admirably by managing to just ramble on endlessly like a gramaphone. And now there are a select few I can talk to on the phone, mostly family members.

But I still avoid actually calling. Even in my worst days of Benji-being-just-born, when V would say, “why don’t you call your mom”, I just didn’t want to. Because the phone itself stressed me out.

So you can imagine the stress of being a journalist where the job itself demands conversations over the phone. I would rehearse the entire opening bit of the conversation and dial preferably when noone was around, a tall order in an open plan office. Once I got into an interview, it’s fine of course but the worst was the calls to set up the interview. The horror.

 

 

 

 

Seven Random Things – 6

Almost done. Whew. I seem to be taking ages to finish this tag.

So 6.

I am allergic to two things:

First, Maths and anything to do with numbers.

This is kind of easily solved. I married a banker and so if any counting has to be done, I just defer to him. When I worked for a finance magazine, I used to just call him and ask him to calculate stuff.

And thanks to the Internet, you can just Google “calculate percentage” and there are sites that will do just that. I’m always super impressed when I see salesgirls telling you the price of something when the tag says % off right away. I always just ask for the price after the discount – even though it earns me some strange looks sometimes because apparently calculating 10% off is supposed to be very easy – instead of calculating myself though it would have been useful to just instinctively know the way Math-type people can.

And the beauty of living in Hong Kong is that one never has to count change. The Octopus card means most of the time the amount is just deducted automatically. And otherwise too people just don’t cheat on change.

I have to say though even in India I usually don’t count change – and the two times I did, the change was wrong. The first time was in Munnar at some chai shop and I was really shocked when I realised – too late – that I hadn’t got back the correct change because somehow I naively expected rustic people (patronising I know) to be honest… the Romantic notion of the “noble savage” and all that. Now it suddenly makes sense to me – some 10 years after my English Lit. degree – why the Romantics were called Romantic.*

Ok this was supposed to be a short post but being at work and actually – ironically – having the time to actually do such faffage as blogging means I have contracted verbal diarrhea (ugh wanted to spell it the other way with oe… there I go again… I am going to stop now…

and

the second allergy, if you remember by now that there was one, will be no. 7.

Amen. (Till the next post).

 

*And that reminds me of this priceless moment in Prof. Eunice de Souza’s class where she randomly (or probably not so randomly) picked on this clueless girl (or cabbage as she would call us)  and asked her what the characteristics of Romantic poetry were and the woman, who clearly had no idea and had been discussing the latest in handbag fashion with her neighbour, decided to wing it and went on brazenly about love, feelings etc. while everyone else tried frantically to somehow indicate to her with their expressions to just STFU and sit down and Eunice’s face got more and more thunderous, finally ending in a “sit down cabbage” or similar crucifyingly cold put-down.

 

Seven Random Things – 5

I love chocolate and all its associates. I grew up eating carefully rationed portions of foren chocolates and barely ate an Indian brand till I was all grown up. When I got married I found that I could, after all, stomach a whole Twix or two though not an entire Mars bar. I started V on the habit of eating some chocolate after dinner, though I have now given it all up in case Mimi is allergic to cow’s milk protein, the hardest thing in the world.

While I love chocolate, I don’t really have a sweet tooth. I can pass on most other desserts. I can drink tea, though not coffee, without sugar. I cannot stomach most Indian sweets, particularly jalebis though I do find them edible with icecream. Kaju barfi is the only exception.

Seven Random Things – 4

4. I think it’s perfectly normal for people to contemplate suicide. I’m pretty sure most of my closest friends have. In fact, I’m surprised more people don’t.  Having tried myself I know it’s very hard and it must take a terrible life for someone to actually go through with it considering there are no neat ways to end ones life but thinking about it… doesn’t everybody? Apparently not. When I ticked yes to “have you  contemplated harming yourself” on the post-partum depression questionnaire, I was referred to a psychiatric nurse. I pointed out that:

a. thinking about offing myself is something of a defense mechanism as it makes me feel I have an escape route

but

b. I’m positive I wouldn’t actually do it because, for one, it’s  too damn painful ii. I love my kids too much so I’m kind of stuck till they’re ugh 30 or so when they hopefully won’t be needing me.

She wasn’t convinced though.

Seven Random Things – 3

3. I love books. I take one everywhere I go. Even to bed. I have on occasion cuddled the book I took to bed. One of my favourite things is eating chocolate while reading a good book. You know how some people need to have the TV on while eating. Well, TV is more convenient but more often than not there’s nothing I want to watch on TV so my book is my mealtime entertainment. This does not make for non-messy meals… or books. I love the idea of books in pristine condition, but I am resigned to the fact that mine will never be. My books have chocolate and food stains, dog ears, covers with creases. Let’s just call them well loved.

Seven Random Things – 2

2. When I turned 18, I was eligable to vote, drive and get married. I voted before I learnt how to drive and probably never would have got behind the wheel had my mom not needed a chauffeur to drive her and our ailment prone dog to the vet. She pushed me into learning – even hiring a private tutor when I failed to master the art of steering a car after obtaining my license by attending the regular useless driving school classes. I’m still not that keen on driving. And I prefer public transport to a taxi.