Swings & Roundabouts

Man: (on his phone) Hello? I should be there by 11:35 PM. Could you come and pick me up?

….

Man: Ok, after you finish watching the Weather then.

…

Man: I’ll wait, no, no, I..

….

Man: (sigh) Tell you what, you watch the Weather and I‘ll walk home.

(Click.)

Have you gone days without actually spending a penny but the minute you draw some money out of your account, seen it disappear in five minutes?

Have you ever sat twiddling your thumbs in a traffic snarl, bumper to bumper with all the other road ragers on Monday morning, and fumed at the idiots speeding away in the opposite direction?

Have you ever listened to the weather forecast, paid heed and gone out in summer clothes, only to show up at work in your favourite drowned rat get up? Or how about the next time you show the weather girl a finger and gone out in proper cold weather attire, only to look like a mug as the sun shines brightly all day?

Have you stood in the queue for a long time, waiting patiently for your turn to catch your favourite musical, only to go in and sit behind a pillar? Or sat next to the bloke who’s behind a pillar, who makes his annoyance known to the world and its wife?

Or is it just me?

We did not get off to a good start this morning. We were stuck behind the garbage truck, as they do their weekly collection round. Even as I was impatiently twiddling my thumbs behind the monster truck, I couldn’t help noticing the flies – or lack of them, buzzing around the garbage like they should do. I am not saying the firang refuse smelled of sweet perfume, but they didn’t make me want to gag my intestines out. There was no unsightly bits hanging about or littered around the half mile radius, sort of like a billboard announcement as to the activity that took place there recently.

And of course, as one does normally in such situations, I started thinking, When would we get to such a state in India, where a garbage truck did not get a huge crowd of flies and other buzzards circling it? It is a small thing and I know the ONYX is doing a brilliant job it is such a small thing, isn’t it? Doing a job well. But small thing doesn’t mean it is simply done.

If you are familiar with Chennai during the summer months, then the water tanker lorries would be a familiar sight as well. For those who aren’t, these are blue, rectanglular sided lorries, with METRO WATER emblazoned on all sides. There is no mistaking the contents as the water would be sloshing off the top of the lorry and generally bathe the scooter following it. At times of acute water shortage, when the precious commodity would be rationed, it was disturbing to see huge rivulets of water running down the streets, marking the path of the lorries. I remember a Class IX physics lesson about centre of gravity and my teacher took the example of the water tanks and how unsound their structure is, as they have a highly unstable centre of gravity. So why wasn’t a power that be making sure that we had friendlier water carriers, that did not waste it?

What about our roads? Why is it that anarchy reigns supreme on them? Why haven’t we got something simple like a codebook for drivers?

Other general matters of etiquette like queuing, holding the door open for the person coming behind you rather than slamming it on their noses, personal space, personal hygeine, respecting others’ freedom are all abstract concepts.

We are all busy patting ourselves on our backs about the big things – technological advancement, getting more and more MNCs to invest in our country, increasing GDP etc but IMHO, we are losing sight of the small things, things that will elevate us from also rans to a true-blue advancing country. After all, God is in the details and until we realise that, all-round development will be a foreign concept.

Before I proceed any further, I would like to clarify that I am not desperate or anything so wierdos and wackos out there, walk away now!

Let me explain the title: Most Wanted. I should actually expand it to ‘Most Wanted: A friend’, preferabl a gal pal. Why am I doing a chum version of shaadi.com? A long and relentless search for one, that’s what.

You need a mate to hang out with, just to chill, right? Well, that’s where I am drawing a blank. The ones I bump into are all okay at the outset but a little bit of digging turns up some majorly iffy characterstics.

So what the hell sort of a friend am I looking for then? Well, for starters, one that is fun. Who likes movies, music, the theatre, is a mild foodie but not a big glutton, has a healthy sense if not wicked sense of humour, loves reading, knows that blogging has nothing to do with clogged drains, doesn’t think having a glass of Archers will make me Mata Hari’s evil twin and most of all, this is v important, doesn’t confuse being the good wife to being fused at the hip with the spouse. Oh, let’s not forget, it would help if the said person was in the rough vicinity so real hanging out can happen!

This is my biggest problem. I do go out with S and our little one but at the same time, I would love to go out with a friend too, you know. But the proper shaadi-shudh desi womenfolk seem to think that once you are married, thou shalt not set foot beyond the line drawn by the hubby. That drives me nuts. And I get looked at like I am a harlot for putting such thoughts into their heads. *sigh*

You would think, in this day and age, it would be easy to find some like-minded people. Natch! And the only like minded folks I know are either spread far and wide or are virtual. I know, I know. *sigh*

I rather feel like Siddharth and co in Shankar’s Boys, belting out enakkoru girlfriend venumada all over Chennai, as I sit typing this post. I know how you feel, Sid ole boy! Though not for the same reasons, mind you. (Lest the parents fear I am coming out of the closet in a rather roundabout fashion!)

So what say?

Making Easter Bonnets hither, baking cakes thither…. I am becoming a
veritable Martha Stewart. Eat yer heart out, suckers! HA HA!!

This is the bonnet – P came second with it!

I also baked a cake for the Craft Fair yesterday and am chuffed to say, folks thronged to partake of it. (Well, I do exaggerate a bit!)

Every June, the Race for Life event is held in various locations all over the UK. Sponsored chiefly by Tesco, the races are run in aid of Cancer Research UK, thereby helping collect valuable pounds that go towards helping a cure for this dreadful disease.

This race was first run in 1994 and since then have grown exponentially to become one of the biggest of its kind in the country. Women of all ages, shapes and sizes run, walk or do a combination of both, to complete the 5 mile course. This year, Cancer Research UK hopes to interest a staggering 800,000 women in taking part in the event to raise a record-breaking £60 million.

The event kicks off this year on 2 May 2007 at Battersea Park at 19:30 hrs and continues till the last one on 29 July at Colchester and Exeter. I, along with a few mates from work, am going to be running in one of these. I still cannot believe that I am actually going to do this. I, who am thoroughly unfit, who has been grossly overweight for the past five years, am actually going to walk/run 5 freaking miles! I sincerely hope I do not do a Jade Goody and embarass myself thoroughly!

Oh, I hope to set up a fund-raising page. Please sponsor me/us!

I was flat out on my back in a dark pink, plasticky chair, powerless to move. Bright light shone down my face, making it impossible for me to make out the others in the room. I could vaguely make out two forms and whilst I was trying to slowly slide away from the chair, one of them came near me. I could just make out a white mask that covered its features.

‘Would you like to move over here, love?’ it queried in a disembodied tone.

I was too scared to act.

‘Now, bite down on this and stay put’, it continued. Something blue and hard was thrust into my mouth and the next minute, a huge white machine, sort of like the Scream Extractor from Monsters, Inc was placed next to my face. Before I realised what was happening, the two figures ran out of the room and there was this high pitched ‘bzzzz’, while the lights flickered out and came back again.

This happened one more time and this time, I noticed the radiation light come on. I was being subjected to radiation! ARGH!

While I was still trying to digest that fact, my two tormentors came back and this time, they closed the doors.

‘Ok, now close your eyes and pretend you are somewhere far away’, crooned the Voice. I was trying to do that anyway when I turned my head a fraction and espied the masked figure advancing towards me with a huge syringe filled with a clear liquid. Oh dear God! First they subjected me to harmful rays and now they are drugging me. Even while my slow brain was computing this, the syringe full of bone numbing medicine was pushed into my delicate skin. I couldn’t feel. I was paralysed!

Even whilst my eyes were darting in terror, I was thinking what else they are going to do to me. That query was answered straightaway when I heard another strange noise – a high powered whirring sound, sort of like a power drill. Are they going to burrow holes in me now? Let me get out! Oh no! Too late.

Whilst one of them held on to my hands, the other one drilled away, chipping parts of me. She then poked me with another sharp instrument. Time and again, she brought out another instrument that made a whooshing sound, which made me bones turn into water.

Thus the torture went on for 15 minutes.

The masked voice looked up and suddenly went ‘go and clean up’. I slowly got up to my feet. I was feeling a bit woozy from the blood loss and the shock. I freshened up as much as I could in the tiny sink. But before I was done, I was dragged back to my chair and part two of the torture began in earnest.

I closed my eyes and imagined myself far away from the drills and other scary noises. In my mind, I was lying down on a beach, playing with little P in the sand. Even as I was starting on a sand castle, a hand touched my shoulder.

I came to with a start.

‘That’s it, I’m done. You can go now. We’ll see you real soon’, said the Voice.

I grabbed my things and ran away from the room as fast as my wobbly legs could carry. The ‘see you soon’ kept echoing in my head. Not if I can help it, mate.

I am never going to my dentist again.

How much do you believe in things like horoscopes, astrology, zodiacs..? Though I have never paid much attention to the first two, I admit to glancing at the prediction of the week and seeing what’s in store for Cancer. Though I’d never agree to being a firm believer, I really find I have so many characteristics of a typical Cancerean.

Whilst I do not walk sideways like a crab, I am rather afraid of getting hurt and tend to protect my easily wounded heart (hard to believe, I know!) with prickly layers of sarcasm. My dad used to tell me when I was in my early teens that if I don’t watch out, I might come across as ‘don’t care Bobby’ of St Clare’s (it is an Enid Blyton thing!) whilst the reality is far from it. But I have never changed in that regard – I never show my liking for something, purely because I am worried that it could somehow be used against me.

I also love the moon and the water – a night time stroll along the beach is my idea of an ideal time. (somebody take note!)

With all these, you’d thing I’d embrace fellow Cancereans as twin souls and bond with them like a piece of 4×4 and UniBond. Truth is, Cancereans tend to be my ‘most unable to get alongwith’ sort of people. Funny, innit?

“You can’t make old friends, you can only lose them and in losing them you walk around with a void inside that you can never adequately explain”, says Beth Kephart in Into the Tangle of Friendship.

I recently read this in the Readers’ Digest’s ‘Quotable Quotes’ section and it made me think of my old friendships and those that still continue to this day. I am still friends with my oldest friend, who I met when we were in class II of primary school. And of course, I have lost touch with scores of people, even cut off ties with some forcibly as things warranted.

One of them in particular, doesn’t exist anymore due to a difference of opinion between me and my then close friend (whom I shall call B). It has been three years now, since B and I had our spectacular, inter-continental, cyber fallout and though we do send each other one line missives regarding the most earth-shattering occurrences in the other’s lives, the friendship that once existed has well and truly died a memorable death.

When I was a little girl, I used to think that, much like our movie heroines, once I hit my teens, I would also have this big group of chattering friends, who would do pretty insane things together. Slumber party, midnight feasts (thanks to Enid Blyton), movies, trips to exotic locations, the odd song and dance number, you name it, we’ll do it. We will be the Notorious G.I.R.L.S and we will set the world on fire.

As always, reality was much different and rather than queening over one huge group of friends, I had two distinct groups of mates, which rather became a lifelong pattern. At school, our class was split into two different groups, according to our second language preferences. So we had the all Tamil groups and the all Hindi groups and I was the only one who ended up straddling these two groups – I was the only Tamil girl in a gang of four other Hindi girls. So I generally found myself occupying that unenvious no-man’s land – not really fitting in 110% with the hindi lot and being an outsider with my tamil lot as I wasn’t conoodling with them all the time.

Things didn’t change much when I went to college though my all-hindi gang remained my closest mates. Though our gang had split up by now, with each of us going in different ways, three of us, moi, B and other one whom I shall call A, still kept in reasonable touch and hung out whenever possible. These two were there for my milestones – broken heart, graduation, wedding, P’s first birthday (well one was – the other one was miles away in America) and life went on. These two were the ones I blabbed my heart to and though I met only A during my periodic visits home, I was quite thrilled when my trip coincided with B’s first trip home from US.

As this would be the first time B will be meeting two and half year old P, I was real excited. But days and weeks of planning never bore fruit and before long, it was time for B to return. To say I was disappointed that she didn’t meet P was like saying I am a quiet soul. I continued to feel the ire long after and A used to rag me about it. Months afterwards, when the three of us were in our different continents, I still couldn’t believe that one of my closest friends couldn’t even spare the time to see my child. The hurt went much deeper than most realised or understood. Even A used to rib me by saying ‘you are the only one who can have a proper, full-on fight on the Internet’. But what I felt wasn’t trivial or something I could just pooh-pooh away. It felt like a rejection; it felt like we did not matter to B anymore. She’s got her new family and friends and the child of an old mate doesn’t rank very high in the importance scales.

Looking back, I think the cracks started soon after I moved to the UK and B got engaged. I only found out by chance that she had got engaged in the first place, well after the event. When I saw the photos, I felt real upset as beaming at me from the pix was another one of our friends from school days who’s still B’s close friend. Never one to let sleeping dogs lie, I asked B how come she couldn’t find time to even tell me about her engagement when obviously, she had enough time to get everything else organised and could take the other girl with her. Though we made up after I had finishing ranting and raving, I still felt inordinately upset. As I sat nursing my feelings after the fallout, I couldn’t help but think of B making a trek to another city to visit this same friend whilst she couldn’t spare a few hours to visit me when we were in the same city, after four long years!

Am I sad over the dead friendship? Hell yeah! As A once told me, it was a friendship that had lasted for several years. Do I want a revival of the friendship, even if B’s for it? I am not sure. A childhood quote comes to mind:

Friendship is like a mirror:
Once broken, even if it is put back together
Cracks will always remain.

Ok, never known to mince any words, this blogger lets it rip with his view re global warming etc. As it is a topic real close to my heart, I wanna make a post out of it.
So, check it out!