The Reticent Mr Snuggles

The Dragon and I once write a children's story based loosely around a rabbit called Mr Snuggles who was, well, reticent. It caused much hilarity because it was so lame and Mr S was a code word we had for a boy I was then crushing on. The reason I bring this up today, however, is that I've noticed a remarkable level of reticence in boys I date. Is it just me?

Granted, I am one of those people who will tell you what I've done all day if you ask me what's been up, but still, I've noticed that, when making plans to meet up, boys are supremely reluctant to give out information, even in response to a direct question. Often they do this across the board, resulting in my dithering for five minutes about whether I'm prying before deciding to say "You never answered my question" and repeating it. Though how on earth 'What time?' when trying to figure out if one can meet for a drink a certain evening can be constituted as prying I don't know...

Perhaps they don't see it as prying, and it's just how they are--not seeing the need to give me information as important enough to be addressed, and definitely not as important as their need for information.

Sledgehammer*

Many things have been bubbling in mah heid of late, especially the day I was fretting over BBot and the night I was crying for something--I still don't know what. After that night I wondered to myself why I hadn't called anyone. There are definitely people who would have soothed me telephonically, people who know what's going on and are unequivocally on my side. I thought maybe it had something to do with my wanting someone from our gang to be on my side, but I know that's not true, because of how much they did support me through the whole thing.

One night though, it came to me. While my life might be am embarrassingly open book with no boundaries, I hate letting people see me vulnerable. And then one of my friends suddenly confessed, in a moment of candour, to something, and it made me smile, because of our complicated history. I knew in that moment that he trusted me---something neither of us might have expected 2 years ago. And I realised that I trust him too. And then I realised that I don't know how I feel about trusting all my wonderful new friends in Delhi, mainly cos they are new, and experience etc. etc.

But then  I started thinking about how this trust starts, and how it becomes the ultimate foundation for love of all kinds. There is a point when you do reveal your vulnerability to someone, and in that moment, when they swoop in, scoop you up and protect and nurture you--that's when you know you can love them, and that's when you start. That's when the seed is planted.

Also, turning that around, can you love someone when you have not seen them at their lowest and most vulnerable?

*for those who haven't watched the show, his tagline was "Trust me, I know what I'm doing".

Bringing sexy back

How cliche a title heh.

So, moving on from all the various things I've written on the subject of body image in general, and mine in particular, the writer of this article has exactly the same beef as I do with the world today. Why does everyone outwardly subscribe to that stupid stupid idea of sexy that is narrowly defined by society?

Mind you, I'm not saying I never do--whether in myself or other people. Yes, I'm often uncomfortable at parties and clubs because I don't think I can begin to compare to all those stick thin, silky-haired drop dead gorgeous women floating about (nearly literally). Yes, I usually expect guys to not find me attractive, though it rarely lasts past five minutes anymore thank god. Yes, my heart skips a beat when I see a tall, lean man who is clean-shaven and wears nice clothes.

But I also never, ever, thought I would be practically incapacitated by my attraction to short guys, fat guys, hairy guys, tattooed guys, long-haired guys or bearded guys. But it still happened, mainly because I was willing to give it a shot. And it worked. Similarly, I am often blown away by the power my body has over a variety of guys--but only those who are willing to admit that the social requirement of a attractiveness in women is not really valid in most cases.

So what is with us? We all know that different things work for different people. We all know that, when it comes down it, you can't really see the other person and they might really have moves that melt your bones. We all know that often a mental or emotional reaction can obliterate or outstrip any physical connection you might have. But we still continue to buy into and feed this whole idea of beauty, male and female, that causes so much misery!

Maxi Me

In one of those delightful convergences, The Bride had this post up this morning. I say convergence because this idea of who I am and what it means as I've gotten older has been occupying my mind a lot of late.

Regular readers know about all my issues about my physical appearance, and how my personality can and does intimidate and put boys off. However, living in New York, being in a relationship for two years, finding inspiration in work, generally just growing up certainly seemed to have calmed a lot of those anxieties and issues. And yet, last weekend, I refused to take my shirt off with a guy I already had incontrovertible proof was very attracted to me. So I spent the week wondering why on earth it had happened--what happened to all my hard won confidence?

The oldest personality I remember having was a loud and enthu child who hero-worshipped her older sister and cousins. I also demanded a lot of attention, but that is something I only know now, with hindsight. I also got that attention from everyone but my mum, which of course is what led, in a very pleasing manner to our dear friend Sigmund, to many other issues. I was also spoilt and thus ate badly and ended up fat at a very young age. It happened between the ages of 8 and 10. I remember I put on 4 kilos in a month when I was 8. That's a pretty nuts.

This weight began, obviously, to erode self-esteem, cos I'd be teased about it, goodnaturedly in my family, and meanly outside. I became less confident in myself, how I looked and how people felt about me. I think that's when I became the really needy everyone-must-like-me me, and as a consequence, the doormat me.

Doormat me stuck around a really long time. As a teenager, I really wanted the cool kids to like me, and I bent over backwards trying to be that person they wanted me to be--it backfired, of course. Less self-esteem.I was also smarter than everyone in my class, and the boys did not like it--the same boys I needed to like me, cos they certainly didn't want to date me. Crush after crush was into my friends, or stopped talking to me when they found out. It became the strongest weapon against me--so I never could show people they were important to me, because it made me vulnerable. I also slacked off like mad about academics--though I think not pushing myself if I didn't care about the subject is a fairly innate characteristic of mine.

When I went to college, I regained some confidence about my brain. It was cool to be smart. I had friends who were smart. We all faffed and still did well. My inner romantic flourished, along with my inner optimist. I even liked a boy who didn't run when he found out--my first love. But he did screw with my head. Maybe he didn't mean to, but he did manage to obliterate whatever vestiges of confidence in my body I had left.

I returned to my MA, social and friendly and proud to have a brain. I made a lot of friends. And yet I was severely depressed--I even did some silly things as a result. I tried to embrace pessimism, to not expect things from other people, but it only made me more miserable. But I never, ever, not even with my closest and dearest friends, showed how I felt. It seemed that my earlier reluctance to reveal vulnerability had solidified into an inability. When I started therapy and finally told my friends, who included The Bride, they were aghast, saying they'd had no idea. And, honestly, how could I have expected them to, when I never ever gave out a hint about how I was actually miserable that every guy I thought I connected with only wanted my friends' numbers? It became this sort of conflict between rational and emotional--I could hardly demand that someone be interested in me, and yet, it hurt terribly that they weren't. It hurt even more watching them be happy with my friends, and yet I could hardly wish unhappiness on my friends or blame them for not knowing how I felt when I didn't tell them.

That was Conflicted me--I was open and friendly and would tell you anything you asked; I would show emotions for other people, and my own happiness, but I would never ever show you my tender spots. and then I was hurt you couldn't guess where they were or even that they did exist at all. Conflicted me still had Doormat me, just with more sass. I needed to be needed, and I wanted to swoop in and save people, which meant I put up with a lot more shite than I needed to--something that continued or a long time.

Then I moved to New York, and finally began to feel like I was attractive. Several boys managed to talk me out of the belief that I am unattractive. I began to be more willing to say what I felt, albeit politely. I began to agree to disagree. I found that socializing was an innate part of me. I didn't need to make polite conversation, but I was happy to hear about what anyone did or though,. I began to think about politics and economics and development--and suddenly had so much more to talk about and so many more people to talk to. Therapy had taught me to not be ashamed o what I felt on an emotional level, regardless of rational opinions. You cannot tell yourself not to feel something, you can only feel it and get over it. It was okay to expect things from people, and okay to be hurt when they disappointed you--no one had to judge anyone for expecting or disappointing. I would say that this was New York me: confident in my ability to attract men, able to hold my own with a stranger, able to put people at ease and make myself at home in most situations.

Then I had to move back. At first I was very upset, but then I found a job and made friends and settled in. I found many many boys who found me interesting and attractive. I was now a bit blase about attractiveness, but still devastated that no one seemed to want to be my boyfriend! Then I found one. I found the best friend-circle ever. I had a shite job, but I'd never cared about career, so it was fine. That's when I became Balanced me. The boyfriend did not, however, do much for my self-esteem, because he blew hot and cold like mad. Again that rational-emotional disconnect kicked in, because I couldn't demand that he be besotted with me, but I needed him to be. And because I needed him to be, I drew the lines all wrong at the beginning, which is really why everything began to fall apart once I realised I wanted to move the lines. In a lot of ways, that was still Balanced me. I had learnt to deal with my emotion-logic disconnect. I knew who I was--and I felt no need to hide it. Yes, I was promiscuous, before BBot. Yes, I was very smart. Yes, I was not conventionally attractive. So? I was a strong independent woman and I was AWESOME.

And then I moved to Delhi and broke up with BBot. Suddenly I was Doormat me again. I don't know what happened, but SIW me had gone into hiding. Then The Dragon dumped me too, and I thought I wouldn't recover from that. It was almost as if that fifteen-tear-old whose class had formed a MinCat Hating Association was back, curled up in a foetal ball in the corner, whimpering. I was nearly thirty and I was lost. It felt like the past decade had been erased. No one would want me--and unless I either got a lucrative career or a husband, I'd never be able to afford to have kids, and that was all I wanted.

And then The Architect happened, the job love happened, I found friends in Delhi--and I think I'm nearly Balanced me again. But I am Balanced me who is aware that Doormat me still lurks beneath the surface--and I don't know when she will take over. Still, I now know more than ever, that I don't want to settle: not in relationships, not in career, and not with friends. I know that I am honest, often brutally, especially with those I care about, but I can and will tell lies if they are needed. I know that whoredom is difficult to define, as is fidelity. I know that agreeing to disagree is all very well, but sometimes you need to agree. I know that I will always be social, enjoy socializing--even need it. I know that there are absolutely no hard and fast rules, and I'm immensely suspicious of anyone who thinks there are. I also know that there are things I will not enable. There is a line. It is here. That's it.

What about you? How did you become Today you?

In which I become a titch obsessed with the Gandhi family and unusual consequences follow

**Edited a bit for structure and content.**

(I'm wondering I should be posting this kinda stuff on teh interwebs, it IS open to misinterpretation hee...)

So I recently got promoted at work (YAY ME!) and am working much more with the core business as it were--reading manuscripts and looking at them for structure, flow etc. One of the CEs asked me to read through this book on a Gandhi that we're doing, and it turned out to have me comprehensively hooked. I even cried at one point, which says more for the storytelling than the story cos, um, everyone knows the story. Anyway, apart from the information in the book, I've been Googling to fact check etc, and I find myself drawn into the whole narrative of Indian politics. (Okay, also into oh my GOD Rahul is so cute, and he hangs out at Khan, should I start skulking around Khan?)

My family has always been pro-Congress. I imagine the older people have their reasons for it, and we've never discussed them. I remember growing up with the Congress as the party people supported, but hey, when I was 10, it was pretty much the only proper party around. Then all the other exciting events of the nineties happened--Rajiv Gandhi was assassinated when we were joyriding in the US, the gold crisis, Babri masjid, Bombay riots, Manmohan Singh hero, Narasimha Rao tales of the neither-man-nor-beast figure who would save the world i.e. India, etc. I was fairly detached though, and never gave much thought to voting.

I finally turned 18, just after the BJP came to power with the NDA government. I was revolted by militant anythingism, so I was not happy with them. In 2004 I was delighted to be able to vote, but very upset because my options were a Soni Gandhi-led Congress (i.e. expected Forn PM) and a Vajyapyee-led BJP (i.e. good man in psycho party). I voted independent. I look back now and realise it was stupid thing to do*, but hey we do stupid things at 22. Then SG shocked the world by turning down the PMship and dear blue-turbaned Manmohan Singh began his first term.

All in all, UPA I was a shocker, a gleeful one for the Congress, but by the end of its term all one heard was criticism of it. All the young businesspeople, urban working people, people interviewed on TV ranted about how we needed the BJP back, just before the 2009 elections. That time I voted Congress. I REALLY wanted them to win. But, like most people, I didn't expect it to happen. Still, I was okay with it, cos well, the voice of the people, etc etc. And then the Congress went on to do even better than in 2004, AND Rahul Gandhi kicked ASS in UP. Jubilation! Joy! Etc. And then I forgot about it.

My political interest flickered into faint life when KCR, with the help of his terrorist supporters, successfully blackmailed the Centre for Telengana. Aside from some cursing of hunger strikes and people who use em, I tuned out soon enough.

Cut to 2011. The world has been going nuts. More hunger-striking blackmail. Scams crawling out of the woodwork everywhere. Manmohan Singh loking more and more like an ineffectual idiot man--which he isn't. But he's not a politican, and what we need now is a consummate politician at the helm. (By we I don't mean the Congress, FYI.) So what happens in the next election? Who do we vote for? Is the rural vote going to remind us, again, that urban India is a minor part of the entirety of this country?

India really needs leadership at the moment, someone who is able to take decisions. Now, setting aside MS's ability or lack thereof as far as taking decisions is concerned, any PM would need support in Parliament. Whatever your policies, unless you can enact them into law, you are faced with a problem. This is where the past decade or so of coalition governments has been so crazy.

Coalitions do not strengthen us in India. They weaken us. They give a minor party, with very specific regional interests, the power to manipulate the Central government, and how. Yes, regional interests must be looked after, but probably by giving states more power and moving to a more federal system. The government at the Centre needs to have the freedom to act if it needs to.

Granted UPA II is insanely corrupt. But who isn't? It is a system that awards the corrupt; it is shortsighted and filled with people who are mostly there to grab their fifteen minutes of fame, whatever material gain they can get out of it and take off. Of course this is not true of everyone in politics in India today, but the hierarchical geriatric trends in leadership are worrisome. If you aren't related to someone big, or you don't have a vote-bank, then you can't really get anywhere. So essentially, the system has to change. But that will take time. And until then, what choices do we really have? What does the Indian voter do? I cannot say that I am Congress supporter anymore, but what choice do I have but to vote Congress? Do I want to vote the BJP in? No, because they are definitely extreme. (The Congress however is extremely un-extreme hee.) Really, what are my options? Mayawati? KCR? Modi? The DMKs? The Shiv Sena? The TRS? No, no, a thousand times no. The least of the manifold evils remains the Congress, though I would love to be at a place where I could vote for a party for what they are instead of what they're not.

Which is where I return to the Gandhis. Dynastic politics are not a good thing--but sometimes the dynast has the ability to change things the way someone else might not. Some say, and I'm partly convinced, that Rahul Gandhi is one such person. HE has actually made a dramatic difference to the way both the NSUI and the IYC run, and might even be able to transfer this to the main party. The tough part is going to be keeping favour during the transition, because I'm fairly sure they're going to do badly in the next elections.

Ironically, for someone who is where he is and has the power to effect the kind of changes he wants, he owes it all to the very system he's trying to topple--and he knows it. Whether he will be effective or not remains to be seen--but I hope he is. (And no, not cos he's such a dish. Which he is. *swoon*.)


*The concept of party consistency and the policy of the government being dictated by the policy of the party had not sunk in yet--I was still mired in the cult of personality, and knew more about the US President and his powers than those of the PM here. Also, a stabler government is usually better, as coalitions have taught me this past decade, so randomly voting for an independent does nothing much for anyway, except to make a statement about not ovting for the parties. The independent is unlikely to win, and ifs/he does, the party that forms the government will have to cobble together a crazy coalition.

The P word

Heavy evangelism alert!

In terms of activism, it's not always possible to do something to help a cause. Take poverty. Not everyone can join an NGO, right? As the Bride said to me, we can support from the outside. But it's drops in the ocean.

Well I think we can do more. We can, for example, all not waste food. Give leftovers to our maids. Pay the auto driver the extra 10 bucks. Not bargain with the subziwala. Once a month, not eat out and give 1000 bucks to an orphanage to feed kids. Or to someone we know will use it well. Because if we sit down and we look at the sheer enormity of this problem, we will have to collapse in terror. No, we cannot eradicate poverty. It is not a disease. It is not finite, just like wealth is not finite.

On the one hand if you think of the entire endemic problem its a terrifying and impossible task; but if you look at one kid getting a meal tonight or a sweater to survive the winter and live another day, it's not so difficult.

Do some charity, and think of all the lives thst are better for it. If you are overwhelmed by the horror of poverty, think about how much worse it would be if it were not for everyone doing their tiny bit. 100,000 drops is a lot. even 1000 drops is almost a glass of water.

It is not possible to eradicate poverty. The way the world functions, the way life is, there will be rich, there will be poor, there will be people saying that the poor deserve to be poor because they always want to fight and drink. There will be studies telling you that children raised in alcoholic households till the age of five can never become functional members of society. I do not think that we have any hope of change unless we return to barter, lose electronics and grow a few more planets. But we can alleviate poverty. We can make some lives better. Step by step. If we all try, then there will be so many less undernourished children in India. Think of the difference it could make.

Who are we to say that without policy change improving the life of one kid is not worth it?

Life is a Rollercoaster

Yes yes cliche. Forgive me.

I had a long chat with Scoo today, about life and purpose and so on. In the past few months I've written dozens of posts in my head around the theme but never had the balls to put em out in writing because fuck that's so scary I can't even begin to deal with it unless I don't look at it.

Anyway, here I am, nearly thirty and quite happy about it. But here I am, nearly thirty and extremely directionless. And I'm terrified. I really am. I know its supposed to be exhilarating and exciting to not know where you are going. The books and the movies and the married and settled people never cease to tell us so. But it terrifies me.

It terrifies me that for the past three years I have been trying so very hard to acquire focus, a goal, SOMETHING to make me feel like my life is more than an endless string of weekends and summer jobs strung together pretending to be a grown-up life.

Is it merely a question of being too lazy to go for what I really want? I don't know, but I do know that I don't know what I really want to do with my life, beyond things like open a cafe and raise a family.

And now, I'm having that panic attack I've been trying to avoid.

Tidbit

Frantically putting the finishing touches to my Spanish course I'm proofreading and the like. This means I notice that of the two verbs "to be" in Spanish, it is ser (permanent/intrinsic) that is used for bachelor and spinster hood, while estar (temporary, transient) is used to say married.

Of course this might be because the words married, divorced and separated are all participles and estar is used with participles, but it's more fun to wonder if this reflects an attitude to life. Heh.

Ack ack ack fat rant alert

So looking for stuff online I bumped into this. The photos are lovely. Really they are. But what bothers me about it is these women are supposed to be overweight. REALLY??? Okay one of them could classify as plump, but if any of them is larger than a size 12 I'll fall over laughing.

What is the matter with us?

Traffic, the talking continues

Responding to The Bride's comment, I realised I might as well write a new post.


Bribes, here is my problem: the point of fines is to punish people for contravening a social contract, and act as a deterrent from making those violations. By this definition, yes it doesn't matter.

I'm letting my objection to violating said social contract stay out of this.

The other thing with fines is, they are a source of income, along with taxes, which many people evade in India. Those fines end up paying for flyovers, repairing potholes, building pavements, buying buses, etc. Granted, with corruption etc possibly half that money reaches its destination, if not less. Again, set aside the problems with corruption and suchlike. To have the kind of infrastructure one wants from a city, to have an MTR, you need the fines to go to the government, because the more that goes in, the more that eventually makes it way to the destination.

That's why I always pay fines.

They went through this period where they were writing down the license numbers of cars who ran traffic lights, parked illegally etc. But of course we were all bothered by this because frankly what's to stop someone from just making up a number or randomly picking numbers to have a quota filled? Camera surveillance is the best option there. But cameras are expensive to install at traffic intersections etc, and don't work for parking violations and so on. They did install a few here and there, but they hit upon the simple yet brilliant solution of giving the cops digital cameras. So one is now treated to the sight of a policeman slowly walking down the street in a measured way, taking a photograph of every car that's violating parking regulations. Some time later said person will receive a complicated legal letter that allows him/her, among other things, the option of compounding the offence* by paying the fine. Hilarious, no? But effective.

They also have them at major intersections with a lot of violations in a particular direction. By them I mean the skinny cop with his trusty digital camera, taking pictures of people running lights, etc. I've often wondered if I could just take a few myself of people driving the wrong way, making illegal u-turns on the flyovers, etc., and submit them. The next step maybe? Perhaps if Chandrababu Naidu was around with his e-obsession.

One thing that worries Appa occasionally is how, if you promptly pay the fine, you seem to get more. Of course they have photographic evidence of the violation, but there are about 5 people committing it at the same time as you, so do they send you the ticket because they know you'll pay? While I agree that if you've committed a violation you should indeed pay, the trouble is that half the time it's extremely difficult to know you're committing one. Many of the major traffic lights in our side of town are off most of the time, with a policeman directing traffic. Often there's one directing even when the light IS on, and if the cop is waving you through to run the light, can they then ticket you for it? There are lots of these weird lights on T-junctions, where the people going along the top of the T shouldn't have to stop, but the light will be red, and if you DO stop a cop will furiously wave you on...so which of those lights are supposed to be obeyed and which aren't?

Etc.

*Yup, compounding. I did a few double takes myself, and though wait they DON'T want me to pay? But BBot explained to me that there's a complicated and clearly archaic nomenclature in place that defines offences are compoundable and non-compoundable, where compoundable offences can be adjudicated by the police inspector/superintendent and can be settled by pootling down to the station and paying your fine. Non-compoundable ones have to go to court.

Unnerving question

"So, are you in love?" asked the sweet little Brazilian boy.

The boy was surfing our couch, and I had just muttered something about BBot, who was not there. The question took me aback. I stuttered and said I know I love him, but I hadn't really thought about it that way. Which led to the other disturbing question, "Are you happy?" More on that another time.

Once I began to think of it, I began to wonder: what does it mean to be "in love"? Can't stay away from each other? Call and text all the time? Can't keep hands off each other? Never fight? Physically joined together at all times? Nauseate everyone around you? Fight, but can't bear to not make up immediately? Have huge disagreements, of a fundamental nature, and cry and shout and snarl and positively dislike the other person, but be incapable of conceiving being apart or giving them up or finding someone else?