My latest book is The One Who Swam With The Fishes.
"A mesmerizing account of the well-known story of Matsyagandha ... and her transformation from fisherman’s daughter to Satyavati, Santanu’s royal consort and the Mother/Progenitor of the Kuru clan." - Hindustan Times
"Themes of fate, morality and power overlay a subtle and essential feminism to make this lyrical book a must-read. If this is Madhavan’s first book in the Girls from the Mahabharata series, there is much to look forward to in the months to come." - Open Magazine
"A gleeful dollop of Blytonian magic ... Reddy Madhavan is also able to tackle some fairly sensitive subjects such as identity, the love of and karmic ties with parents, adoption, the first sexual encounter, loneliness, and my favourite, feminist rage." - Scroll
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26 December 2005
This could be Rotterdam or anywhere, Liverpool or Rome, coz Rotterdam is anywhere, anywhere alone (The Holiday Special Bonus Post)
I am ensconsced in my mother's house on my two-week vacation. She's out of town, so it's sorta like living alone except with the luxuries of cook and warm dog sleeping on my feet. Oestensibly, this is so that I can rejuvenate, get some chores done and all that jazz, but the electricity went all morning and the computer wasn't working so I curled up on the couch and read Rohinton Mistry for the hundredth time and when the electricity finally came back I started watching Friends Season 10 and those things are bloody addictive.
So here it is, 5.57 pm on Christmas Day. Elsewhere in the world, people have probably just woken up and started opening up a flurry of presents and preparing for family dinner and I am alone.
Strangely though, I'm not sad. I'm quite enjoying this solitude and resting, it doesn't really feel like Christmas. It's been like that all December, usually the month I'm most depressed because of my birthday and Christmas and New Year's Eve, because I always feel terribly let down once the day is over. Sorta blah. Sorta, was this what all the fuss was about? This year, though, I must've done something right, or else acquired zen like qualities, because I expected nothing. And because I expect nothing, everywhere I go, every party I'm invited to, I have, if not a really good time, an enjoyable evening. Last year, I was morbidly depressed. I wept at midnight on December 31st and called K in Goa and demanded to know why he had broken up with me. I begged him to reconsider and for us to get back together.
Last year this time, I was a wimp.
B) In which nostalgia figures in a big way
Oh, rooteling through my stuff the other day I found this notebook I used to have in college for my * ahem * creative outpourings. It had some terrible short stories, about this girl who loved a boy who had cancer and he died and about twins who were adopted by different families only to be reunited.
But it also had this list of New Year's resolutions, with a doodle of a mermaid in the corner.
1) Not let anyone matter too much.
2) Not get irritated easily.
3) Say yes to every opportunity
4) Catch up on old friends.
5) Write a lot.
6) Make a BUDGET (or beg for more money)
I'm still working on those, as you can see. Except the irritation one intrigues me. Did I really lose my temper once upon a time? Now my temper is so repressed, I burst into tears when I’m angry. I smile tightly when I'm pissed off and I go into my room and simmer alone with my rage.
Also within this glorious notebook, which is green and has Daffy Duck on the cover, is this work of genius.
Called the Singles Christmas Carols Selection, here it is for your edification.
* Jingle bells, what the hell
I know you don’t care,
This season sucks
And if that ain’t ‘nough
You’re fucking her as well.
* Joy to the world,
The Loser has come,
Let Earth receive her Queen (receive her Queen!)
She sits at home,
Alone by the phone,
And waits for it to ring,
And waits for it to ring,
And waits, and wa-aits for it to ring.
And my personal favourite:
*Tis the season to be jolly,
Why am I so melancholy?
Everywhere I look I see them,
Fa-la, la-la-la, la-la-laaaaa,
Happy couples, ad nauseam,
Ek Chhoti Si Love Story
My TC conversion is almost complete. Vignesh is in town, bringing with him a purty zippo for moi, with, get this, eM engraved on it! Yay! Anyway, so he couldn't be in Delhi and NOT go to TC, which is exactly what I told Gamesmaster as well.
Anyway, so Vignesh came once on a Wednesday with me and then, surprise surprise, he went there AGAIN of his OWN volition on Friday, which was also the day the Gamesmaster happened to be dropping in.
I might be single and alone this Christmas, but the vibes that flew back and forth between those two had to be seen to be believed. There was lots of arm-touching and cheek-kissing and at one point, much to the general merriment of Small and I, Vignesh picked up the Gamesmaster and sorta carried him around for a bit. Good fun was had by all—well, at least by me and Small. I can't vouch for the other two, but they looked all happy and mushy.
Ah, young love. The blogsphere conspires to bring two hearts together and all in the smoky, rather noisy, but still so romantic atmosphere of Turquoise Cottage. See, I’m not the only one who gets lucky there. Even though, as far as I know, both men are straight, stranger things have happened right? (And I should probably stop writing right about now or risk being beaten up by either. Or both.) Ooh, one last thing and I’ll stop, I promise.
We here at The Compulsive Confessor do hope you will join us in wishing the happy couple much luck and success in their future.
Okay, I’m done. But say the word and I'll post the picture.*
Have yourselves a very merry little Christmas and I hope you're all having as good a time as I am.
* You did, so I did :)