tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56419157677795567912024-03-08T04:38:29.796+05:30Dame lo que quieroAll she keeps inside isn't on the labelUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger314125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-90548856421745623692013-04-01T11:57:00.001+05:302013-04-01T11:57:27.076+05:30It has happened<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have caved to intense peer pressure from the <a href="http://thebluebride.wordpress.com/">two</a> <a href="http://haathitime.com/">people</a> who regularly read and moved to <a href="http://blueglassvase.wordpress.com/">wordpress</a>. Sadly damelo is taken so I have reverted to my blogging roots. Also, I'm not 100% sure I like wordpress so I might come back. =D</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-77568372053610606352013-03-21T10:40:00.003+05:302013-03-21T11:04:31.974+05:30Isn't it ironic?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So yesterday was a very very eventful day in the history of the Clan of MinCat. My father is a little...how do I put this delicately...cricket mad. He and my mother's brother have this habit of bouncing around the house in the afternoons acting out strokes and bowling actions. Yes, really. Yes, they are 67. My sister won't ever wear her Tendulkar shirt because the one time she wore it, he got out on a duck and then we lost the match. My mother has once--a moment remembered with complete glee--hopped down the stairs on one leg while balle-balle-ing her arms to go buy chocolate because we beat Pakistan. My niece was throwing her hands up in the air with fingers pointed whenever anyone said sixer before she could stand.<br />
<br />
I think you get the picture.<br />
<br />
Now I, ever the changeling, have never really given a shit. I mean okay, when there's a big match on and everyone's excited and it's the last ten overs; when it's an excuse to faff off from work or studying, sure I've run about madly watching cricket and yelling and screaming. The child of the self proclaimed high priest of cricket, who is waiting for a form to ask him his religion so he can say cricket, I could not help but imbibe much information and awareness of the cricket world. And when I started work here, I ended up being assigned cricket books to copyedit since I actually know what an off-break is. And then it just stuck. So I ended up with cricket book after cricket book. I don't know if I blogged about my my immense rage towards SRT when he scored his damn hundredth century the day I was handing over the updated bio, a day that was a Saturday and then I went MAD trying to get an extra chapter in. There was the Bishan Singh bio by the world's most horrible man. There was the Harsha Bhogle columns reprint. And then there was the hundred centuries book, by a Hindi journalist and full of cricketer interviews, which meant I basically had to write it. And then we missed the date because we weren't ready to publish. Which is when inspiration struck. <br />
<br />
We decided to rework the book, which was basically in the format of a writeup on each brilliant century and then another writeup on Sachin and the century by someone who had played with him, preferably in that match. We turned it into the ultimate Sachin tribute. The book is out in stores now, and really is one of a kind. But I shall not plug it here. Working on it was HELL because there was no system to the way things were stored and unless one knew instantly what the names of grounds were and so on one had no idea which order the chapters went and so on. I really went mad. Like seriously. HATRED. ANGER. In those days CB was still speaking to me, and kindly assisted me with some sorting, and of course I just called the priest every so often for consults.<br />
<br />
Last evening, we had the book launch. It was thrown together in forty-eight hours by the author, and we were all skeptical about it, coming right after the launch of the Yuvraj Singh book, studded with luminaries of the cricket world. But it came together. And how.<br />
<br />
Which brings me to the ultimate irony of MinCat, least cricket interested of the Clan of MinCat, meeting Both Sachin Tendulkar and M.S. Dhoni. The former looks 25 and REALLY needs a stylist. The latter looks 35, distinguished and REALLY HOT. Like YOWSA. Be still my throbbing ladybits. Sachin was there briefly, and once he left Dhoni took the stage. And left me so impressed. Such an articulate man. Such presence and good humor. Having promised to relax and give an interview, he just did it. He stayed an extra ten minutes, chatting with author's family, and when author's dad went up on stage to give him the book, he touched his feet. I have heard many people talk about the team, the nation etc, but I have never felt it ring with sincerity like it did when this guy talked o how he would help Dinesh Karthik get better at batting even though they were in competition for the wicketkeeper's position, because who cares, India has to win. So what if I have made 23 Test victories and dada has made 22--at the end of the day it's India's victories. When I retire I want to join the army. And go to the front. To the north-east and fight in the real wars.<br />
<br />
I was left just a little starstruck--enough to breathlessly ask him to sign my book and gawp a bit when he smiled and handed me the pen he was using--which sadly was not mine. Of course clan MinCat is seething with joy and envy, and my sister, when told her birthday present now includes a Sachin autograph admitted it would be a hard present to top.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-31538265839153614402013-03-19T19:38:00.000+05:302013-03-20T12:46:12.194+05:30Life and those not in it<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
At Jaipur this year I met this girl. It was brief and drunken but she seemed fun. And then she added me on Facebook and we began to chat and it got funner. And so we hung out a bit. Which became a lot. And then I realized that I had met the person missing in my life. Well one of them anyway heh. She's my age, and has my problems. This hit me like a bolt when she began to tell hilarious stories of her misadventures in love and lust, and I listened to her wisecrack about the boys and what they said and what they did and how ridiculous it all was and I could hear and see myself in her. I could hear the hope that cynicism was trying to douse; I could see the despair that strength was trying to banish. And it melted me. And I rejoiced that I would finally have a friend who was:<br />
1. A girl<br />
2. My age<br />
3. Physically present in my life<br />
and most importantly<br />
4. Would always always ALWAYS get where I came from without my having to explain it because she too was single, didn't want to be and came with her baggage of body image and weight.<br />
<br />
Here was someone who would instantly understand the history behind a statement, and never ever say to me with the best of intentions and all the love in the world 'I wish I had your life' 'You don't know how painful it is to be married' 'God I miss being single' 'Don't worry you have time' 'You have such a great job' and all the other kind, well-intentioned and infuriating things most of my friends and well-wishers who fit the criteria of 1,2 and 3 usually say to me.<br />
<br />
Of course there is a complication, which is largely my own fault but more on that another time. The point here is to articulate what it is I find so immensely frustrating about talking to my peers about my life, and what's not in it.<br />
<br />
I started rereading <i>Venetia</i> today, a favourite Heyer of many aficionados I know, but one that has never captured my imagination. But somehow it did this time. So I wrote to my only school friend, with whom I bonded over Heyer after all, and who LOVES this one, to tell her I was reading it and it made me wonder if I'd ever find my Damerel. And she, who has her own host of problems and trouble of course, wrote back to say that Damerels don't exist, and we women are raised to think we need men, but only she's beginning to think we don't need them--they just exist to make us stronger. And for some reason that straw broke the camel's back and I proceeded to rant all over the poor girl.<br />
<br />
You see, I was raised to think that I didn't need men at all--only I discovered that I do. And I'm not talking about boinkaboinka. Then I struggled with guilt for years for daring to be so weak and pathetic, before coming to terms with what I wanted, and understanding that everyone wants different things. Sometimes what we want is because of what we've got and haven't got and sometimes we just don't get what we want, and sometimes we get what we want and it's painful and horrible and not nice at all, but there's no way of knowing how it will turn out for anyone. My sister and I often end up unable to say anything to each other because she is immensely frustrated with her career, but she has a house, a husband and an enchanting child I never get to see enough of, and I have a life where I don't have to come home exhausted after a frustrating day at work and deal with tantrums and not have the option of eating Maggi cos I can't be arsed to cook and instead have to think of a healthy nutritious meal that I can put together in the time I have with the ingredients I have.<br />
<br />
Maybe if I'd gotten married at 23, or any of my married friends who tell me this had gotten married at 31, we'd all have entirely different perspectives. Maybe we'd be happy if we switched lives, because of the people we are and have become. Maybe our discontents are a result of what we want and don't have making us ignore what we do have, and maybe they are to do with the people we are and what we really want from life. We'll never know. But I do know that the loneliness and emptiness of my life is painful and horrific and often too much to contemplate without losing it. Thinking that I might never have children, that when my parents die all my family will be 15000 miles away, that at the end of the day my bed will always be empty and I, the most physically expressive person I know, will live a life with very superficial physical contact--these things are not about needing men. These are about things that come with the package of relationships. If I could be gay I would try. It's not about a man. And its not about friends because one by one their priorities change--and I can't blame them for it either. How can you make time to just waste with someone when you barely have time to sleep because you're dealing with work, in laws, kids? Just like I can't blame those guys I was <a href="http://damelo.blogspot.in/2013/03/rantnroll.html">ranting</a> about for suddenly not having the time and headspace for me, because they rightly devote them to their new relationships. How can I demand you don't hurt me this way when you are not hurting me; it's happening passively? And how can I wish for you to stay alone like me when I know what comes with it? But how can I not be hurt by it once again not being me and by once again being released into wider community than the close knit circle we were?<br />
<br />
It is an innately human impulse to seek companionship, to settle down as it were, and the older I get the harder it is to deal with what feels increasingly like my inability to do so. I don't know where it stems from--me, society, dumb luck--I don't know how I can know; all I know is that it IS and I have to deal with it. And its harder to deal with when I can't be around couples (as has happened to me now) or I can't talk to people about it without having to defend so many things. I end up spending all my time with other single people, who are four years or more younger than I am, and that comes with its own attendant stress.<br />
<br />
It's not easy to deal with the things one has to deal with in a relationship. But it's not easy to deal with my life either, unless you genuinely want to be alone. Which I don't. And sometimes it hurts me and frustrates me deeply the way people dismiss this difficulty, when I am well aware of and consciously acknowledge the difficulties in their lives. And it also hurts me how I am so bitter, how I can no longer feel unadulterated joy for the happiness in other people's lives, how pictures of my super juniors' babies on Facebook make me want to smash the screen, when I am truly happy for them.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But mostly it hurts me how I am constantly haunted by my life and those not in it.<br />
<br />
<i><b>EDIT: </b>This song seems to help in a stopgap way =) Ironically OA introduced me to it so it, also, carries mixed feelings. Which makes it very apposite for my life after all...</i><br />
<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-38291065386239019912013-03-19T15:51:00.001+05:302013-03-19T15:51:23.163+05:30Rant'n'roll<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
**Disclaimer: I am not mad at you or ranting about you Kutti. This is just a rant of peeves.**<br />
<br />Following merrily in the able steps of <a href="https://thebluebride.wordpress.com/2013/03/13/peeves-of-an-office-worker/">The Bride</a> and <a href="http://haathitime.com/2013/03/18/sometimes-im-peeved-too/">haathi</a>, I am going to rant a bit about all the things that happen in my daily life that annoy the CRAP out of me.<br />
<br />
<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li>Answer your email goddamit! YES YOU! Yes you're super busy. But it takes five seconds to say okay 1pm. or I'm busy, remind me. Set a freaking template. In the workplace it's ridiculously unprofessional. ESPECIALLY INTERDEPARTMENTAL. Don't make me start that petition to have a rule where we tell your boss if you haven't responded in 24 hours. And in your personal life, it's disrespectful. Plus it removes all right you have to whine about people not staying in touch with you.</li>
<li>Be on time! If you know you're always going to get into the meeting at 1045 not 1030 THEN WAKE UP FIFTEEN MINUTES EARLIER! If you know it takes you 20 minutes in no traffic if you get an auto the second you walk out the door, then LEAVE THIRTY MINUTES BEFORE YOU HAVE TO BE THERE!</li>
<li>If you are late, DON'T LIE! BBot used to do this all the time and it drove me MAD! 'I'm just leaving baby', which meant he was in his boxers smoking the second last cigarette before he showered. It's SO disrespectful! You're a paploo whose time has no value so yeah I'll string you along. GRRRRRRR. </li>
<li>Return calls! Especially if you are in a relationship with someone, call them a dear friend, they gave birth to you or supported you emotionally/financially for no reason other than that they are related to you or you live with someone. Again. IT TAKES FIVE SECONDS! If you're so stressed out by being accessible to people then DON'T HAVE A CELL PHONE! Tell people to email you/call a landline/use smoke signals. But if you have a cell phone then CALL PEOPLE BACK.</li>
<li>Soak your dishes! Heck I'll settle for pick them up and stick em in the sink. You can always tell people who have had to do a lot of dishes in their life, because they ALWAYS put thei dishes away in the sink, scraped AND rinsed. </li>
<li>BOYS! Yeah this one I don't even need to explain do I? Heh. Seriously though, WHAT is it with boys who call every weekend and call you dear friend and best friend and worry about what you think about the people in their lives and ask for advice and help and take the time and love you gladly give, ask you to make plans with them, but then the second they start seeing someone, KABOOM! Gone!</li>
</ol>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-1059989967683001582013-03-13T09:39:00.001+05:302013-03-13T09:39:23.728+05:30The Dating Desert<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The other day (okay long ago), my boss began to discuss her cousin who is trying to get married. She said the girl was trying all the matrimonial websites, and really making an effort to meet people and so on, and it was really quite difficult for her. This girl is 26, btw. She's also smart and pretty, though dark-skinned, which is as much a cross to bear in the arranged market as my weight and age are. Anyway, the conversation led to dating and men and suchlike things, and then my boss said, 'All my guy friends my age are single. (She's 36) Oh, no wait, X just started seeing someone and Y is coming out of his divorce...' and so on. And it hit me! There's a window!<br />
<br />
For urban Indian women today, you meet guys in college, and then when you start working. Lots of us meet them in B-school, or whatever postgraduate things we do. You meet them by the time you're about 25 or so and then you get married by the time you're about 28 or so. The interesting thing here is that, if you haven't met a guy by the time you're 28 or so, you suddenly realize that all the fun guys, all the guys you went to school and college with, all the guys you'd like to date are already long-term dating/engaged/married. This is not to say that there aren't single guys in your age group--it's just that they're all single for a reason. Usually one of the following:<br />
<br />
1. Commitment phobe<br />
2. Brutally dumped by someone and therefore has trust issues<br />
3. Hopelessly in love with someone who is married<br />
4. Deep issues, like The Architect, who needed a shrink and maybe even medication (this does not mean that someone with a mental illness is not dateable, it just means they need to be taking treatment!)<br />
5. All-round player: oo look new shiiiinnnnyyyyy!<br />
<br />
So then you are left with no choice but to date younger guys, except, if you, like me, are looking to settle down etc, the younger guy is at least the age difference plus two years behind you on that track. So then what? Then you wait, and once you're thirty-five, all the divorced guys start to appear.<br />
<br />
I looked back at my life and thought about this, and I realized this is rather true. At 27, when I'd found my first relationship, I was so sure that I could hold out for more. But in the two years since my break-up, I'm beginning to see that the possibilities I had 27 no longer exist. I did not see this at that age, and perhaps i went about rejecting guys on the basis of things that I now think of as eminently adjustable to. My boss, when we had this conversation last year, told me how sh had also not really met a dateable guy in ages, and now, she's 36, she has. Not that that's evidence per se, but yeah. I now go around earnestly imploring all the young people I know to be very sure they're breaking up because they really don't think it'll work, not cos of some rather solveable problem. Or at least to prepare to cross the dating desert and hope they'll make it to the other side optimism and faith in humanity intact.<br />
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-40437905424545084972013-03-11T17:07:00.000+05:302013-03-11T17:07:06.523+05:30"Self-sufficient"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
(Wheee two months!)<br />
<br />
I was deep in serious conversation with the Object of Affections the other day and he said something that precipitated an epiphany around a subject The Bride and I have been debating for a very long time. 'I've always thought I'm pretty self-sufficient,' he said, 'but I have realized I'm really lonely.' And then it all came to me in a big whump--what the fuck does that even mean?<br />
<br />
When someone says they're self sufficient, or they "don't NEED anybody" (as Lithium is very fond of saying whenever I am feeling particularly insecure of my place in his life), what exactly do they mean? I've poked and prodded and probed and usually it seems to come down to 'I won't make myself vulnerable to anyone'. On the face of it, that's a pretty worthy ambition to have. If you're not vulnerable, then you can't be devastated by someone (which is usually what's happened to make people wary of letting it happen again). This makes eminent sense. Only, it is also fairly impossible.<br />
<br />
Think about it. What does it mean to be completely emotionally independent? Does it mean that you never call anyone when you're having a bad day? A good day? A bleh day? Does it mean you never think of any person when you need comfort? Does it mean you never show your emotions to another person? And, most importantly, in the case of people who say they have always been like this, does it mean you never have done any of these things?<br />
<br />
For most of us, we have some sort of bond with our families. Maybe only one parent, maybe a sibling.We had at some point, a best friend, a gang of brats we played gully cricket with. A cousin who visited one summer and we spent hours talking to. A first love. A latest love. Homo sapiens is a social species. That's how it is defined; that's how it evolved and that's WHY it evolved. So why must we constantly try and deny this? There are some people who have has horrific lives of abuse and loss and they cannot say they had these things, and we tend to see that as tragic. Then why do we act like this is something we actively want to encourage, like it's a state of being that should be worked towards? <br />
<br />
Because we're terrified. Heck I'm terrified. I live in a constant state of low-grade terror--that occasionally spikes up to high grade terror--because of the number of people I am vulnerable to. But somewhere along the way I realized the vulnerability is the flip side of love. In some ways the definition of loving someone IS giving them the capacity to hurt you. And they usually do, but that doesn't mean they don't love you, or even that they meant to. Sometimes, as happened with Boytoy recently, when he decided he's ready to find a real girlfriend and move out of our fake relationship, it's entirely incidental and even you know it. And you know, all the naysayers who told me this was a mistake because he was going to move on and I'd be hurt will be nodding right now, only if I hadn't let this happen I would never have had all the love he does give me still.<br />
<br />
But I digress (as always heh). So what happens is there is a whole generation of people who hold their "self-sufficiency" high like a flag and drown alone in their loneliness, because they cannot even admit to themselves that they ARE lonely, let alone begin to do something to make life better. And that's what I told OA. How can it be strange for a thirty-year old, like me, to feel the pull of companionship? In my case, I would really love to make a plan that doesn't have to come with an inbuilt potential date of termination. In my case, when I'm plummeting to the depth of the pit where my demons live, how can I not want a hand to hold, a warm body breathing steadily next to me, or even in the next room? How can we persist in believing that this is abnormal and weak? There is no shame in needing companionship, in seeking a partner, in "settling" because you don't want to be alone. We are not programmed to be alone--we're just telling ourselves that because we're scared.<br />
<br />
As for the the other ways to look at self-sfficicency, The Bride has done an excellent job of <a href="https://thebluebride.wordpress.com/2013/03/11/on-independence-2/">summarizing</a> our views.<br />
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-55300156014228803112013-01-09T09:56:00.000+05:302013-01-09T09:56:20.742+05:30Weverb12 #23 communicate [LISTEN]<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i><b>Describe a conversation that you had this year. Why was it memorable?</b></i><br />
<br />
I'm sure I have had many conversations this year that were interesting, engaging and possibly even life or thought altering. And of course, most of them were with The Bride, as she says <a href="https://thebluebride.wordpress.com/2012/12/31/shrinking-violets/">here</a> (shameless me plug hee). Some were with Chocolate Boy, who has turned out to have been possibly Big Mistake of 2012, because of sigh him not talking to me anymore for no reason I can fathom. Several were with Amma, some with Scoo, and plenty with a random selection of people across the board. But if i were to look back and think of a conversation that I can point to and say this, yes this very conversation changed my life dramatically, it would have to be the one I had with OW, The Bride and S.<br />
<br />
S is a friend from the days at Toilet, except he wasn't really a friend. He worked in the same team as I did, our tiny group of ten, and we had a ton of friends in common. But--he later explained this to me--he doesn't socialize with people in his team, so always remained slightly douchebaggy and distant. I ignored him. Then one day in 2010, I ran into him in a bar in CP completely unexpectedly and we made polite conversation. He disappeared again. Then, one day in July I saw something on his Facebook about living in Delhi and asked if he was here. Very enthuly he replied and said let's get a drink, which we did, since 1. I can't say no, 2. I was DESPERATE for friends and 3. Any excuse to drink. <br />
<br />
Our hour-long quick drink became three hours and five drinks and so began a lovely friendship involving alcohol and hilarity. The thing I liked most about S was that fact that he had that trait I call Hyderabadi, where anything goes. You want to hang out and I'm having dinner with a friend? Come! That super openminded welcoming attitude doesn't exist in Delhi, and I really appreciated having the security of convivial company when I needed it. He was relaxed and tolerant, and would happily talk about anything, and felt no need to talk exclusively about what interested him, which again is super rare.<br />
<br />
Then The Bride came to visit and I drummed up drinking company--after all the girl hadn't had a nice desi out drinking with friends in dive bar scene for so long hee. OW and S both came, and OW displayed some startlingly adolescent behaviour--which should have warned me, but sigh I must always believe the best of people. And we ended up, OW, The Bride, S and I, in my house till 3am, having a long ideological discussion on gender and and identity politics. And throughout that conversation I would find myself opening my mouth to say something, only S would say it instead. Or I would say something and he'd nod frantically and say 'EXACTLY!' And I discovered over the course of that conversation that this man (yes, man, not boy) is a revelation. He is actually everything I would want in a partner--not because we agree, but because we seem to approach things the same way, with the same mindset and attitude; because we both believe in live and let live, and persuasion, not yelling. I cringe as I say this, but he was kinda like the male version of The Bride. <br />
<br />
Starting that conversation, I began to see all these sides to him I never knew existed and (you know where this is going...) today he is a very dear friend, and of course the object of my affections. And well, the object of HIS affections is his girlfriend of ten years. Yay MinCat, I sure know how to pick em. Though I should be glad this one is wrong only because of said girlfriend--nothing to do with who he is, which is usually the problem!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-58385493145920325682013-01-08T13:02:00.001+05:302013-01-08T13:02:19.133+05:30Weverb12 #22 recharge [CREATE]<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i><b>What did you do to recharge your batteries in 2012?</b></i><br />
<br />
Oh this one's easy. I did it lonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnng ago, nearly a year ago in fact. I went to the Andamans, for five days, with my gay best friend, aka <a href="http://damelo.blogspot.in/2011/08/resurfacing.html">Favourite Colleague</a>. It came at the end of four months of sheer insanity. We'd both been promoted and moved to another department, but were doing work in both as part of the transition. Then we'd gone to Jaipur for the lit fest--our very first time and semi-officially. We were running around like lunatics. Some time in December I'd broached the subject of running away to the Andamans in February or March, and we'd booked tickets. We took off, I remember and it was all still a haze of last minute things and where to go. All we knew was that we wanted to go to <a href="http://wikitravel.org/en/Havelock_Island">Havelock Island</a>. We'd forgotten to figure out accommodation or anything, and luckily Amma has a fixer from her frequent visits, and he set us up perfectly.<br />
<br />
When we landed in Port Blair is when it finally began to sink in that we were on vacation. And then those four day were just--so wonderful that words cannot describe them! I read seven books. He read three. We took walks on the beach, lay in the sand, swam about in a bay that was like our own personal saltwater swimming pool. We went snorkelling and I saw a Sri Lankan Wrasse in the wild! We spent a lot of time sitting around at the Rajiv Gandhi sports facility near the harbour in Port Blair, and were thrilled to bits by the clarity of the water. It was truly heaven. We left each other alone, seeking company when wanted and peacefully lounging around when not.<br />
<br />
I will punctuate this with some photos later. It truly was the best thing I did in 2012, even though I went to Colombia. I was so recharged when I came back! Which was a good thing because work bodyslammed us on return heh!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-10990504577404671312013-01-08T12:40:00.004+05:302023-04-24T11:56:32.205+05:30Weverb12 #21read [LIVE] <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i><b>Did you read a book this year that left you craving more when it was over?</b></i><br />
<br />
This is a cheating question to ask someone in publishing...I did indeed read a book that left me wanting more, but it was a manuscript, and it won't be out till April in India and September abroad. And of course, being in publishing I got to demand and read beginning of sequel heh. I also know what happens through the series.<br />
<br />
Seriously though, what does it mean to be left craving more? Do I want more info on what happened to characters, or on subject if it's nonfic? Do I want more writing by this author? Do I want this book to never end? <br />
<br />
As far as the first goes, <i>Cracked</i> (abovementioned hee) definitely fits the bill, as does a book of mine that did come out last year--<a href="http://www.flipkart.com/land-seven-rivers-brief-history-india-s-geography/p/itmdem2b6pfv4f4a?pid=9780670086399"><i>Land of the Seven Rivers</i></a>. That one is non-fiction, and really really good. A book about India's history, but in a tidbitty, things you never knew way that completely avoids the usual tropes of history books, I loved it when I got the manuscript, and then while working on it came to deeply admire the author and be very grateful to work with someone who works the same way I do! At the end of it all I want to say is MOARRRRRR. These bill Brysony books about India are SO FASCINATING that I just anted him to keep writing about various parts of India. I hope he does. Actually, this book fulfills all three of the interpretations of the questions I have up there--I want more information about all sorts of things in the book; I want more by him, anything; I want the books to never end.<br />
<br />
I really don't mean to plug my own books but I have also realized the occupational hazard about working in publishing is that nothing gets the kind of intense attention a book you work on does--I mean I have read these books six or seven times each, in the space of two or three months.So when I likes em, I likes em good.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-26159313381949280212013-01-03T11:20:00.001+05:302013-03-12T07:43:32.954+05:30Weverb12 #20 reminisce [GROW]<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i><b>What distant memory/time did you find yourself longing for in 2012?</b></i><br />
<br />
Well, I don't even know where to start! I've always had a problem of living somewhere or somewhen else, but it's something I brought under control by 2010. But, after 2011, I found myself often longing to be somewhen else--specifically, July 2007 when I was so filled with hope and joy and surety about the future, or April 2010, when I was so sure of my place in the world, and was prepared to take on anything the universe threw at me (hah, be careful what you wish for...).<br />
<br />
I have also long believed that, whatever has happened to me, I refuse to regret it, and I will never want to go back and redo it, because everything that I have done and said and has happened to me is what makes me who I am, and I LIKE who I am. But this year, for the first time, I have often wished for do-overs, whether BBot, or weight, or not moving to Delhi in 2005--and this is the scariest thing that has happened to me all year.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
#19 was: <i><b>exercise [LIVE]: How did you live actively in 2012? What will you change in 2013?</b></i><br />
Least said, soonest mended.<i><b> </b></i></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-85374392975278447482013-01-02T14:36:00.000+05:302013-01-02T14:36:15.748+05:30Weverb12 # 18 soak [LISTEN]:<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b><i>What have you soaked in this year? (Baths, sun, ideas?) How did it affect your mentality?</i></b><br />
<br />
Well, if I could just twist the meaning of soak a bit, I'd have to say I have soaked--marinated even--in whiskey this year. It has affected me by making me even less likely to get drunk, and often making me (and other people) worry I might be turning into an alcoholic.<br />
<br />
I have soaked in some ideas--YA writing for work, sex and relationships (which seems to have become like a hobby), friendship and family--but I can't say anything really stands out. I did also soak in a bath during our sales conference, in the very large, very posh, very gorgeous bathroom of the equally large, posh and gorgeous room I ended up having to myself. That was rather divine. I also fell in love with the rain shower they had...<br />
<br />
To me the idea of soaking n something implies a degree of peace and the space to let go and not be tense, which is something I haven't felt much this year, so it's hard for me to really come up with anything concrete.<br />
<br />
I'm thinking that this is turning into a series of sad little wines about my life, so starting now, I am going to pick the prompts I have something to say about, and try and remember the good in 2012.<br />
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-68687332503670433832013-01-01T13:14:00.001+05:302013-01-01T13:14:28.528+05:302012<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I've been rather good about my New Year posts, but somehow, this year, I can't bring myself to even look at the year that's past, because I am nowhere near ready to deal with it. Nothing especially horrible happened, in fact I acquired Career and now even friends, but that whole raw, bloody mess of..of...mess--I can't deal with it. I have spent most of my energy this year holding it together, and while the past two months have helped my composure enormously, I don't think I have enough to do a year in review. I don't have the hope to do resolutions either, so I'll just leave you all with good wishes for 2013, and my personal hope that it not be worse than 2012--I'll take as bad as, but I don't think I can deal with worse.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-51064833298913511272013-01-01T13:09:00.000+05:302013-01-01T13:16:53.750+05:30Weverb12 #17 thank [HOPE]<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b><i>Write that thank you note that you've been meaning to send this year… or would like to send next year…</i></b><br />
<br />
The reason I've gotten stuck with these is partly because of the visitors I've had, partly because I've been feeling fragile and really haven't wanted to reflect/probe, but mostly because I just don't know what to say here.
I think that I would not have survived 2012 without four people. Not that I'd have killed myself or anything, but I probably would have run home to hide under my bed. And by home I meant Hyderabad.<br />
<br />
The first two on this list are, without doubt, my parents. I cannot begin to articulate how amazing they are. Yes, they have fucked up often, especially in the past. We have had our disagreements, and how! But at the end of the day, they have always stood firm by me. Poog has taken issue with some things they have done and said, but my point to her has always been that they are human, they are doing what they think is best for me, because they love me, not because they are worried that society will shame them, or because it's how things have always been done. If they say to me, babe losing weight will help you get a guy, it's not because they think I'm not good enough how I m, but because they know that I want to get married, they know that guys and society want women a certain way and thus, the easiest way to make my life easier is to just lose weight. I know this too, but I reject it. And they accept that as well. Mostly, this year I have seen them take giant steps to change and adapt to me, to what I want; they have consciously accepted that I am an adult and might do things differently from them, and have supported me unconditionally regardless. They no longer tell me what they think, they ask me what I want and how they can help me get it. I can't think of people my age who are capable of doing something like this--just accepting someone you love and their life, their choices and what they need--so I am amazed that they have managed it. So thank you Amma and Appa.<br />
<br />
The third person on the list, again, is no surprise--<a href="http://thebluebride.wordpress.com/">The Bride</a>. My lodestone, my yardstick, my voice of reason, she is someone I can literally say anything to, without fear of judgement. She is someone who I can trust from the bottom of my heart will always tell me straight what she thinks, and when I'm being an idiot, with no agenda. Everyone should be lucky enough to have a friend like her in their lives. Thank you for all the hours of shrinking and silliness, handholding and advice, faffing and love. I'll never ever regret the Pisspot =)<br />
<br />
The last person on this list is new to my life, and has become, over the past eight months, practically indispensable. I have written posts to him before, but I need to say this once more, loud and clear if only to remind myself, when I'm cranky, of the truth to his presence in my life. The help and support I've had from Amma, Appa and the Bride have been invaluable and vital, but on a day to day basis, there are days I would not have made it out of bed if it hadn't been for <a href="http://lithiumperoxide.blogspot.in/">Lithium</a>. And it's the blog that got me to meet him, so yay blog =) Midnight meltdowns, driving all the way to see me because I was sad and needed cuddling, always answering the phone, random movies and days spent in silliness, vast amounts of alcohol--you have been the rock I have clung to this horrible horrible year, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-6543409577619835032012-12-27T15:00:00.000+05:302012-12-27T15:00:01.126+05:30Weverb12 #16 replicate [CREATE]<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i><b>What were you inspired to create/make this year based on something else? (i.e. a pin from pinterest, recipe from a friend, etc.)</b></i><br />
<br />
As always, when it comes to creating, for me it's food. I did not, actually, create anything very exciting this year. In 2011 I created a <a href="http://kittyinthekitchen.blogspot.in/2011/04/pina-colada-cake.html">piña colada cake</a> that I'm very proud of, and some other things too. This year my cooking has just been low key, so what I created would probably be MinCat's foolproof south Indian tasting, nutritionally balanced thingy.<br />
<br />
It sprung from a trend that's been growing ever stronger this year--a craving for south Indian flavours. My main problem with making south Indian food is that it's heavily rice based, and also involves making three things at a time, which takes up so much time and so many vessels! And then I didn't have gas for four months, so I really couldn't cook full on meals. One day I was going to make one of my standard one-dish europeanish meals of lentil stew, when the craving overpowered me and I tipped two tablespoons of Puliogare mix into the cooker with the lentils and veggies. And holy mother of god! I HAD REACHED NIRVANA! Then I ate only that for a few weeks, before settling back into normal food again.<br />
<br />
It's funny, this south Indian nationalism trend I've been having this year. I just like hanging out with Tamilians more--I connect faster with them. I want to eat dosai and idli every day. I'm always thinking of ways to make chutney. I don't want to cook anything north Indian anymore, not even MATAR PANEER! I occasionally make pasta or Spanish omelets, sometimes <a href="http://smittenkitchen.com/blog/2010/04/shakshuka/">shakshuka</a>, but that's it. It's all south Indian food. I wonder why. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-36368866092915625312012-12-27T10:21:00.000+05:302012-12-28T08:43:36.511+05:30Weverb12 #15 quote [GROW]<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i><b>What inspirational quote would you associate with this past year for you?</b></i><br />
<br />
Sadly, I don't do quotes. I have never been able to even put one up on my pinboard etc, like people do in offices. I can do funny quotes. I love funny quotes. Or beautiful ones. I keep changing my email signature to have a different quote when I find one. My two favourites from 2012 are:<br />
<br />
"Great discoveries, whether of silk or of gravity, are always windfalls. They happen to people loafing under trees."
--Jeffrey Eugenides (<i>Middlesex</i>)<br />
<br />
"'You know how we make a Scotch and water in this home?'<br />
'No, sir,' Gus said.<br />
'We
pour Scotch into a glass and then call to mind thoughts of water, and
then we mix the actual Scotch with the abstracted idea of water.'"<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
--John Green (<i>The Fault in Our Stars</i>)</div>
<br />
<br />
**Edit: The Bride helpfully pointed out that I do do quotes if I have them at the ends of emails, so I should clarify that I meant I don't do inspirational quotes.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-7241260381932975132012-12-21T13:52:00.002+05:302012-12-21T13:52:59.344+05:30Weverb12 #14 walk [LIVE]<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i><b>Describe the path to a favorite place of yours to walk in 2012. What’s meaningful about the place or the journey?</b></i><br />
<br />
(Cheap thrills, I have caught up with <a href="http://thebluebride.wordpress.com/">The Bride!</a>) <br />
(Dammit. She's got ahead of me. Sevres me right for being lazy.)<br />
<br />
Okay I don't walk much anymore. C'est tragique but what to do. I have no reason to walk, no path to tread, nothing. Which has a lot to do with living in India, which is not a country that makes you feel good about urban walking. Even Delhi, which has pavements and trees and winter. I used to walk to the bus, till I got Tomatín, but that was barely a walk, since it involved dodging through corridors inside the complex and then walking down the road for two minutes.<br />
<br />
I shall talk about my favourite places of 2012 instead. In no particular order.<br />
<br />
My own balcony, especially in the winter. I used to sit here all morning on weekends, chatting with MW and listening to him on the radio. It's sunny, it's private, but it's also out in the world enough for me to hear people talking and get dive bombed by nervous birds.<br />
<br />
The roof at work. It's only one floor up and where people go to take surreptitious calls, smoke, and sometimes drink after 6pm. It's criscrossed with a mad network of metal rails upon which sit out large collection of generators; there's are heaven knows how many a/cs ejaculating out there; there's a small tin-roofed shed with a collection of miscellaneous crap, and, most recently, a graveyard of perfectly good chairs that were replaced with posh ergonomic ones (interestingly enough, not in my department). It also has a transmission tower upon which perch flocks of kites, crows and pigeons, in that pecking (hee) order. In the monsoon you can see the clouds hanging low and grim over the lush green park downstairs. Then when the wind blows hard I worry that the tin roof is going to blow right off! In the summer you wince and try and find a tiny spot of shade. But in the winter! It gets sun all day, and there's nothing I like more than sitting there and reading manuscripts. Sometimes when works is really painful, like it has been recently, I take a book up there as a reward for sticking it out through a bad patch, and sun myself and read.<br />
<br />
The faded red couch in MW's house. Though I haven't been there in ages, for a long time that couch to me was my safe hidey hole. I'd go over, park myself in my corner and just sort of retreat into safety. Conversation would ebb and flow--I could join or not--and I'd always go home feeling better about life.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-91798716014255377382012-12-20T09:19:00.000+05:302012-12-20T09:19:14.939+05:30Weverb12 #13 associate [LISTEN]<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i><b>What blog/book/article spoke to you the most in 2012?*</b></i><br />
<br />
Okay, this is the perfect opportunity to open myself to a slew of outrage, but also talk about something I've been meaning to post about for a while.<br />
<br />
Now I am a subscriber to the theory that the more recent something is more likely it's impact on you remains strong--that's why the end can ruin a movie or a book for example, so I'm going to say that when I think of books I've read I can only remember the ones I've read very recently. I know I read two Junot Diazes; I read <i>Middlesex</i>, which was utterly <b>brilliant</b>; I read <i>Song of Achilles</i>; I read truckloads of chicklitt that spoke to me, and even some non-fiction. But I don't really remember them actually speaking to <b>me</b>, saying Yo MinCat, ever thought about this?<br />
<br />
The one book I read this year that actually did that to me and, mind you, I read it in May, was <i>Fifty Shades of Grey</i>. (Cue outrage.)<br />
<br />
There was just something compelling about that book, much like <a href="http://damelo.blogspot.in/2009/11/twilight.html"><i>Twilight</i></a>, which might come from the fact of the subject matter being, once again, obsessive possessive love, and my never having felt it. I do think that with FSG however it was more than that. I definitely have my problems with both books on an intellectual level, but I also have problems with people who object to FSG on an intellectual level while refusing to engage with it on a emotional level or an instinctual level, because at the end of the day that's the level at which it is written. But I'm getting ahead of myself.<br />
<br />
I'm fairly open about sex and sexuality, and am willing to try anything once, at least hypothetically. But BDSM is something that has always just freaked me out, even the thought of it. So when I read this book, it was with much skepticism, because really, BDSM? But then, suddenly, I found myself thinking WOAH this is HOT. Suddenly I found myself reading what was in the head of this girl who thought exactly the same way as me--what is wrong with a guy that he needs to debase me, abuse me, to get off? And then, once she gives in and likes it--what is wrong with ME that *I* am getting off on being debased and abused? And, by extension, I was thinking what is wrong with me that I'm turned on by this whole thing?<br />
<br />
The book actually makes you stop and let go of prejudice for a minute and accept that sometimes you need to recalibrate 'normal' to understand yourself, and you really shouldn't be so hard on yourself. Of course the rest of the trilogy goes on to completely destroy this whole openminded thing cos after all, Christian is into BDSM cos he's been abused, cos it's not normal etc., which is just sad, because FSG is such a great gateway book. And it really did make me think a lot, about sexuality, about boundaries, about trust, about control, and all these thing in my own life. (Okay, I also had a crush on that incredibly in-charge man, who just takes over your life--I wouldn't mind one of those for a while!**)<br />
<br />
Which brings me to, if a book can make you think about these things, how can you dismiss it out of hand just because it's 'a bad book'? I'm not for one second saying the writing is good--it's dreadfully cheesy; I swear I wanted to SHOOT THAT FUCKING INNER GODDESS! But many so-called good books have terrible writing too--they just err in the direction of being obscure. One notable example from this year is <i>From the Ruins of Empire</i> by Pankaj Mishra--impossible to read, but a fascinating subject.<br />
<br />
It does all come down to what an individual wants from a book, and what the intelligentsia wants to think it can guide them to. It comes down to thinking that oh the poor dears, they don't know better, let us guide them. Who died and made you president? People read what they want. Yes, the reason the Fifty Shades trilogy (and the Bared to You trilogy) does so well is mainly because people want socially sanctioned porn. Yes the writing is execrable--but it's pornographic <i>Twilight</i> fan fiction! <a href="http://reasoningwithvampires.tumblr.com/"><i>Twilight</i> itself is hardly well written</a>. And, in defence of FSG, Anastasia has way more balls than Bella! She stands up for herself; she wants a life beyond Christian and she demands it. She doesn't jump off cliffs so she can hallucinate hearing his voice. Sheesh.<br />
<br />
Yes, it makes me sad that Amish Tripathi sells the way he does in India, but, on the bright side, it means people are reading. It means some day people may read a Sidin Vadakut instead of a Chetan Bhagat and slowly, step by step they might come to the point where they are reading Amitav Ghosh. But this ladder itself is built from my own preferences--why must they read Ghosh at all? I myself spend an inordinate amount of time NOT reading literary fiction--I even dismiss the genre derisively most of the time. So if I can read what I myself call trash, why do I shake my head and tut tut when other people want to read it? This obsessive need to pass judgement on what is and isn't acceptable is very scary sometimes. <br />
<br />
Okay now I will stop because this is turning into rant on publishing, which really merits its own post.<br />
<br />
<br />
*Is it just me or is there some repetition happening here?<br />
**That's a whole other post on feminism and my own life...</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-29528927248764264452012-12-19T23:55:00.000+05:302012-12-19T23:55:00.038+05:30Weverb12 #12 toss [GROW]<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i><b>2012 was the last time for ________________</b></i><br />
<br />
Things like this terrify me. It feels like, if I say it is the last time for something, then the universe will come and taunt me by making it happen again.<br />
<br />
I'd like to say it's the last time for immensely painful and unexplained abandonment--but I said that about 2011 too. <br />
<br />
I'd like to say it's the last time for unrequited love, but c'mon who are we kidding?<br />
<br />
The last time for DoorMinCat? I hope so.<br />
<br />
The last time for unhealthy lifestyle? I doubt it.<br />
<br />
No, I can't come up with a thing. Which is sad in some way because it makes me wonder, does that mean I'm clinging to everything? </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-85357227901071504152012-12-19T11:50:00.003+05:302012-12-19T11:50:54.502+05:30Weverb12 #11 spend/save [LIVE]<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i><b>Are you richer or poorer this year, compared to last year?</b></i><br />
<br />
Ooo this one is a toughie again. I am richer, in that my pay went up dramatically mid year when I was promoted, and in that my financial manager (a.k.a. Bank of Appa)<i><b> </b></i>is always fiddling with my savings and making them bigger. I'm also not really spending my savings each month anymore, so yay!<br />
<br />
However, I haven't started saving again, like I used to when I made decent amounts of money. I have also started spending up to what I make, instead of even saving a little bit. And my rent, ah my rent, has become huge.<br />
<br />
I'm richer in corny ways though--I have found some family here; I know myself better; I got a cat. <br />
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-90733446322907396822012-12-19T09:52:00.002+05:302012-12-19T10:26:52.890+05:30Weverb12 #10 lose [HOPE]<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i><b>Did you have to say goodbye to a person, or even a cherished object, this year? Take a moment to celebrate the memory.</b></i><br />
<br />
This
year I have not lost anyone to death, thankfully. Last year I lost one
of my best friends to what I don't know, but that pain is still here to
stab me once in a while. I haven't lost any cherished objects either, so
I guess it hasn't been that bad a day eh? I did lose another friend
though, once again inexplicably.<br />
<br />
He wasn't someone I'd
known for a long time. He swept into my life off the internet, and he
was just the right person I needed to meet then. I could say ANYTHING to
him, and we talked about the strangest stuff. HE opened my eyes to many
things, and was definitely instrumental in my coming to terms with
myself and understanding several things about myself. He also introduced
me to MW, and though he himself is remote and essentially robotic, did
make an effort to understand my need to emotionally respond to things.<br />
<br />
We
had a vacancy and he was perfect, so I coaxed him into applying for the
job. They loved him; he got it; and now he's in love with it. It was SO
AWESOME in the beginning, having him here. He moved into Delhi from
Gurgaon--interestingly I found him his house indirectly, and then he
asked me to help him set it up and teach him to cook. We spent a month
where I was in his house almost every alternate day. And <b>how </b>we talked. <br />
<br />
I
was in the middle of the dip of my double-dip depression, and though it
made no sense to him, he took a lot of trouble to try and understand
it. (He was prone to saying annoying stuff like, but you have no REASON
to be sad! Snap out of it! Be happy! But everyone does that.) There was a
car ride after a day spent at MW's, when I'd been super quiet and
they'd put up little bits to cheer me up and coax me out of it, but it
didn't work and suddenly on the way back the tears came. I drove most of
the way back from Gurgaon with tears running down my face. And when we
got to his place, he turned around, reached over and wiped them off my
cheek, saying 'Don't cry. Please.' It was the sweetest thing he'd ever
done, and generally pretty sweet for a robotic boys, or even boys in
general. Yes, he was a dear friend.<br />
<br />
And then I went to
Colombia. He was one of two friends who tried to call and say happy
birthday, but didn't get through. But we emailed. And then I came back,
and things were different. They have only gone downhill since. I tried
to ask him if something had happened to make him withdraw so
dramatically, if everything was okay, but he only evaded my attempts. And then I decided that it was time to give up—I couldn’t keep being the doormat being all friendly with someone who was making it more than clear they didn’t see me as a friend anymore. But, like the Dragon, I have no idea why. I’m sure I’ll get over it, but that will always nag me.<br />
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-21149412867223215682012-12-17T16:46:00.002+05:302012-12-19T11:43:06.114+05:30Weverb12 #9 triumph [CREATE]<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i><b>How were you challenged by a project or goal this year? What did you learn from it?</b></i><br />
<br />
Oooh my. This is a toughie.<br />
<br />
I think this year I had the same project I've had every year for the past ten or so--lose weight. AndI really really REALLY sucked at it. That's not to say I'm usually good at it, but if I can find zumba, or dance class, this combined with cooking keeps me fairly decent. But it has been a year of so much sadness, apathy, despair--I spent it eating comfort food, drinking copious amounts of whiskey, and needing a pep talk to toss back the sheet in the morning. I even think sometimes that I have given up--champa has won this war.<br />
<br />
I was challenged by my own lack of motivation, some of which comes from mindfucks, some from laziness and some from the fact that I worked so damn hard to accept my body--I'll be damned if I reject it now. But mostly, my big obstacle was my misery (I'm trying not to use the D word here), my loneliness and neediness, all of which just made me give up hope so comprehensively that I just did nothing--I was most positive when I was sunk in apathy.<br />
<br />
I regret to say that I have not won against this challenge. I have reached a point where the very thought of going up against it has me whimpering in terror and sucking up potato chips through an IV. And I have learnt this year that no matter how much you want to do something, sometimes you just can't. You can try all you want; you can seek every for of motivation that exists; you can psych yourself and other people can coax, nag, cajole, bribe, threaten to withhold sex--but sometimes you just can't do anything about it.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-8526022285875787542012-12-14T07:49:00.000+05:302012-12-19T11:43:38.943+05:30Weverb12 #8 respond [LISTEN]<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i><b>Do you actively listen to your inner voice/conscience? Describe a time this year you heard and responded to it.</b></i><br />
<br />
A-HA! This is interesting. As I <a href="http://thebluebride.wordpress.com/2012/12/12/weverb12-respond/#comment-4841">said</a> over on her post, my inner voice essentially boils down to The Bride. Much like her, I tend to have a constant conversation/debate going on, and the actual times I end up ignoring an instinct or inner voice are the ones where I'm telling myself to calm down and wait and see the other side, walk a mile in the other person's shoes, etc, before I do or say things. This is a consequence of Doormat Disease, which I have manifested horrifically this year. <br />
<br />
However, the past month has seen me definitely breaking out of the cycle, to the consternation and discomfort of many males in my life who are used to DoorMinCat as it were. And one instance where I actually did listen to a voice of overwhelming hurt and outrage and actually articulated it, I felt so much better, and it turned out to be super good for that particular relationship. So hurrah!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-44008883971847623012012-12-13T16:40:00.002+05:302012-12-19T11:44:00.530+05:30Weverb12 #7 enliven [GROW]<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i><b>Was there a book or article that inspired you to make a change in your life this year? What was the source and what did you change?</b></i><br />
<br />
No.<br />
I'm so boring.<br />
Or is that lazy?<br />
Though, there has been enough on The Good Men Project and in various other places on relationships, feminism and polyamory that have made me tweak many things about my ways of thinking. Also Savage Love.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-80694783837602266972012-12-13T09:34:00.004+05:302012-12-19T11:44:17.998+05:30Weverb12 #6 cook [LIVE]<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i><b>What was your best recipe/dish of the year? Share it!</b></i><br />
<br />
Oh YAY! This one really is the one that hooked me on the challenge. So, though my food blog is essentially dead--more because I never get around to taking pictures or quantifying recipes, which leads to being lazy about posting--I have been cooking a LOT. I have invented recipes and adapted recipes, found a new favourite chocolate cake and, my biggest achievement in the kitchen, become a good maker of south Indian food. In fact, with the copious demands from the Poo and Kutti, I am toying with calling myself the Idlimaker of Alaknanda. Hee. So without further ado, I present to you the idli/dosai and chutney.<br />
<br />
For the idli/dosai maavu:<br />
1 cup white urad<br />
1 cup boiled rice/idli rava (if you don't have, use normal rice)<br />
little less than 1 cup raw rice<br />
1/4 cup/handful yellow moong<br />
1 tbsp methi seeds<br />
<br />
Soak for 6-8 hours at least the urad in lots of water in one bowl, and the rest in lots of water in another one. Now grind them in a mixie that has steel jars, as follows. Use as little water as possible at the beginning. The urad happens in one shot, and the rice in two. You will have to stick figners in there and feel the texture. The urad is done when it's super smooth and gooey. In fact if you can keep the water to a minimum you will find it won't stick to the sides of the micie or to a spoon, and that you can use for vadai. It is even more important that the rice be ground dry as much as possible first, because once there's water in it, it won't become a paste very easily. This part of the maavu can be s little grainy--no problem. Mix the two up in a large bowl--the mixture shouldn't come to much more than half the bowl. Cover and leave in a warm place overnight to ferment. This can be tricky in the summer cos it'll get really sour, and in the winter, cos it won't rise. For the former, try and keep an eye on it and for the latter, if you have an oven, turn it on for 5 minutes at lowest setting, turn it off and bung the maavu in. Another thing that works for me is to keep it in the sun, but that involves being there to keep an eye on it. Salt to taste after fermentation.<br />
<br />
To make idlis, keep it thick--just about pourable. For dosais, you need more water, definitely pouring consistency. This is sadly one place where you have to experiment and find your mojo. <br />
<br />
For the green chutney of death:<br />
Half a medium coconut, grated or chopped small<br />
About the same amount of pottu kadalai (This is basically roasted chana dal, so you can actually just roast some chana dal with a little oil at home as a substitute)<br />
One bunch of coriander leaves <br />
2-3 green chillies, de-seeded (this is actually up to you, make it as hot as you like, or not)<br />
A small piece of tamarind, say the area of the top segment of your index finger (see what I mean about quantifying?)<br />
Half a small onion<br />
2 tsp oil<br />
1 tsp mustard seeds<br />
1 tsp urad dal<br />
2-3 dried red chillies<br />
10-12 Curry leaves<br />
a pinch of asafoetida (hing/peringayam) (well a shake, cos it comes in those little bottles here)<br />
Salt to taste<br />
<br />
If the coconut is chopped not grated, whizz it in the mixie till it looks grated. Add the kadalai and whizz till they are nicely ground up. No water just yet! Toss in everything up to the onion and whizz some more. Now you can add water in small amounts till the chutney is as chutneyfied as you like it. (I like it smooth, Amma likes it chunky.) Now heat the oil in a really small pan, or, if you have it, a tadka pan. When it's hot, toss in mustard. When the seeds start to pop, toss in urad. Once it starts to brown, toss in chillies and hing. Once chillies are looking cooked, and before anything burns, toss in the curry leaves and add the tadka to the chutney. Voila!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641915767779556791.post-26954018299297081912012-12-12T17:59:00.000+05:302012-12-19T11:44:44.474+05:30Weverb12 #5 fellowship [HOPE]<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i><b>What community has engaged you most this year and what did it you get out of your participation?</b></i><br />
<br />
<br />
I don't think there has been a community that engaged me at all this year, in fact the biggest hole in my life this year been the lack of community. There was briefly the community of MW CB and their friends, but that didn't last very long. There was the community of people I work with, but that petered out too. I guess the closest thing to community I have engaged with this year has been Spanish people! My Flamenca and her friends have been open and welcoming and as a result, my Spanish has improved, I have a dinner party group and I go to endless concerts and have much fun. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://damelo.blogspot.in/2012/10/could-i-be-flakier.html">The Bride, when she visited said to me that I have this ability to collect people</a>. I don't know if this is an ability or a disability myself, but I will say this--at the end of 2012, I know I have six dear friends I see on a fairly regular basis, and nearly all of them can be mixed about in various conversations. This thought gives me great comfort, even if, on a night like last night, the closest I can in conscience get to any of them is on the phone. But Kutti will be back soon, and I can always take Lithium up on his offer to drive all the way over cos I need company.<br />
<br />
In sum, I guess the community that engaged me the most this year is the one I left behind in Hyderabad in 2010, and the ghostly one I've been hoping will grow to comfort me for that loss.</div>
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