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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13 December 2006
The One In Which The Very Tanned eM with sand in her underwear makes you all jealous
Is it cold where you are? Is it? Is it? Because down here in the Southern Hemisphere, I'm chilling in a skirt and a tiny tank top, having spent my evening sitting on the beach, watching the waves, smoking a cigarette with my iPod playing Thousand Miles (if I could fall into the sky, do you think time would pass me by?) Although, you've probably figured I'm here on work, as part of a junket, so I really wish I was with my friends. This is a clubbing sort of place, all glamour and excitement. Fuck my friends, I really wish I was here with my lover. Sigh.
I had actually earmarked this very hot American to be my holiday romance. (His name is Dylan and his sister's name is Marley. They're getting a dog called Bob. I am so not making this up). He was quite yummy when I met him last night. I asked him for a light and when he did, he said, "Now you have to tell me your name" and I was all, "Okay! And here's my number! And call me!" Actually, no. I gave him my name and we chatted, and then I got very drunk and the last I saw of him, he was following around this Pakistani guy who was his friend and I suspect they were in the closet because they spent the entire evening murmuring to each other. (Don't mind me, I'm just bitter because he didn't hit on me. AND I was wearing my new tube top.)
Anyway, I should go. Work beckons and I'm also quite hungry. Look out for an update tomorrow night?
UPDATED, ALREADY: So many, many things need to be taken care of now that I'm back in Delhi. I got home last night, and started in alarm to see how empty my room was till I realised that I had actually packed most of my stuff to send off with Shark Tooth. Moving is done, therefore, except for my clothes, which means my entire summer wardrobe needs to be forced into one suitcase. Not to mention knick-knacks that I don't go anywhere without. And photographs. It all seems so close now, only three weeks to go.
In other news, it's my birthday tomorrow. And when I called Small last night to say hello and tell her joyfully about duty-free tequila that we will consume to celebrate the quarter century, she said, "Dude, how many people have you asked?" "Oh about twenty five," I said happily confident. "Erm.. I think not," she said, "Because I know a LOT more people are coming." Oh dear. I am, to put it classily and in a foreign language, uber fucked. Because now I have to buy lots more alcohol. And food. But at the same time, I am also secretly thrilled that so many people will be there to celebrate the glory that is me.
Back to Bali then. I did manage to go clubbing, twice in fact, with the TV journos who were there as well. Actually, we were at this place called GWK (a big tourist spot in Bali, the highlights of which are two ENORMOUS statues of Garuda and Wisnu--Vishnu to us--remind me to get back to how weird it was to see Hinduism in a place that wasn't India) and I met this guy who owned an Indian restaurant there called (dum-dum-DA-dum) Gateway of India. Fifty points for not calling it the Taj something or Dilli something else. Anyway, no, he was fat with a huge gold Om hanging on his hairy chest, but he was sweet and knew quite a bit about the nightlife, so at his suggestion we went to this place called Kama Sutra, where he also said, "If you have any trouble getting in, just tell them you know me." And so, all three Delhi girls, and so all three quite expert at name dropping we breezed into Kama Sutra, sat for a bit watching the empty dance floor and then decided to inaugurate it. Of course, inevetibly, as soon as we hit the dance floor, the DJ played Mundiyan To Bachkey. Followed by Dhoom Machale. Sigh. So we exited and sat on the beach and watched the lightening crackle over the sea and walked with the waves slapping against our shins and it was lovely. Till it started to rain and we headed back to our hotel.
The next nightclub was on our very last day, where me and one of the TV journos decided to be adventurous and again on the Gateway Guy's recco went to a nightclub called Mbargo, which was much nicer than the first. And not just because the name had an 'm' in it, though that did help. The music was more jumpy, people were dancing, the locals were hooking up with firangs and the booze was affordable. In fact, all in all Bali is pretty cheap. One Indonesian rupiah is about 200 bucks, and since my drink cost me 40k, that would be about Rs 200. It's a little disorienting dealing with hundreds of thousands, but cleverly, I wrote down all the conversions on a piece of paper with the help of a calculator (my mental arithmatic is terrible. So is my any-kind-of-arithmatic) and I had something to refer to each time I wanted.
I managed to do some shopping as well. Most of the shops had huge summer sales on (Southern Hemisphere, remember?) and the clothes would have made Sarojini Nagar blush, because the shops all had DKNY! 90 PER CENT OFF! and joyfully I entered, only to find DKNY was yeah, the local version. Genuine ripoffs. But I found a very cool DVD shop, selling for 10, 000 (50 bucks) and completely stocked, so I bought Borat, Transamerica and Fast Food Nation. I would have bought more, but I wasn't sure how the print would be and whether I'd get home to find Indonenesian porn or something, so I refrained nobly. And I bought some very cool flipflops at Bata, of all places, but they don't look Bata-ish, so it's all good.
Lalalalala. I'm sure there's more, and my computer is here so they'll keep popping up. :)
Have a good My Birthday!
Fine, I'm jealous. Have fun at Bali, I've heard its beautiful.ReplyDelete
cold. so cold here. i wish you sunburns. kidding! enjoy the tropical heatwave (it's this that's been stuck in my head for two days now) coz you will be back to brittle cold. or not! mumbai shall be peachy too, promise.ReplyDelete
this song, i meant.ReplyDelete
Lucky woman...It must be oh-so-beautiful...And I so I know that feeling -- being alone on a junket*Sigh*ReplyDelete
sounds like youre having an alright time for the most part... and look at it this way, you get to be chillin in Bali while the rest of us read your blog and stew about it... (as exemplified by the first comment here!)ReplyDelete
those names (dylan, marley and bob?) are wicked by the way. i really want to mee the parents, should be a laugh!
Have a blast!
hmm...Friends fanatic, i can see...enjoy Bali... :)ReplyDelete
oh poor poor sweet angel waif eM. holiday faggots not being flirty back and following pakis about is indeed horrible. i don't know how you find them all though. everytime i'm at airports/exotic destinations all the straight ones flock to me to share expensive airport lager and talk about bloody sports and their girlfriends.ReplyDelete
hmm maybe the lager's a bad call. too manly. although honestly being about napoleon's size everything SHOULD seem adorable. what were you drinking, if anything? i need holiday hotel sex godammit.
And I shan't be all n00b like and say have fun at Bali. Because you're on there on work.
And I'm rambling.
One misses the random email exchange of the past, Malv. Fancy spending New Year's together? Or will you be too busy being smothered in Delhi love what with all the Delhi-leaving and whatnot. Eh?
hahaha I love that men who don't hit on become gay. Although I'm sure you're probably right.ReplyDelete
I really wish I knew youReplyDelete
Yeah you better be bitter. Dutty faggot doesn't know how to appreciate a good mini-skirted blogger when he sees one.ReplyDelete
damn it's cold. and my feet are numb. and i've somehow managed to cut my nose thanks to my nosering so there's this huge gash? and my nose is sore? and i can't yawn properly or smile or talk exhuberantly. OR KISS!! I CAN'T KISS! and waaaaah, it's my budday and i can't kiss anyone. sniff. oooooooh, unless i manage to tilt my head to the left so everyone gets the RIGHT side, which is uninjured. i must remember to do that.ReplyDelete
aarthi: it IS beautiful. :) but now i'm back. and at work. and cold, so you can stop being jealous.
hobo: we're having a heatwave, a tropical heatwave, the temperature's risin', it isn't suprisin', we're havin' a heatwave. :) i had no idea anyone else even KNEW this song! and yeah, i've now fallen madly in love with the Indian Ocean, so i'm most excited about bombay. (or is that the arabian sea?)
ab: well, technically not alone. pr chick was there. and quite like most pr chicks, if you get my drift. :)
dude: i asked him actually how they got those names and he said in his case, his mom went into a music store when she was pregnant with him and saw a poster of bob dylan on the wall. go figure. of course, we had the usual "robert zimmerman" trivia being brought up, but dylan is such a sexy name, no?
jay sun: hahaha, yup. i think you're the only one who got that!
cale: email me then, no? and come, come to dilli and we shall get very drunk. i'm trying to remember what these boys were drinking. vodka? something like that. not bee-ah for sure.
scritch: that's so sweet of you to say that. :) but yeah, it's like a defence mechanism, i suppose, don't hit on me, you're obviously not into women. coz baby, i am ALL woman. ahem. okay, i'll stop. :)
rainsong: p'raps, just p'raps, you do.
iz: no miniskirts, sadly. longish indian skirts and jeans, for the most parts. but the tube top WAS sexy.
eM: this is like your game thoery faux pas. it's the arabian sea bebe. and in mumbai it's just toxic waste that laps up to the shore, seriously check out the rats that creep through the levees there and tell me they don't remind you of shredder from teenage mutant ninja turtles.ReplyDelete
young hobo, all seas lead to the ocean. therefore, (as we learned in our philosophjy subsidiary, which you, lucky cow, didn't have to take) all seas lead to the ocean, therefore all seas are oceans. or part of them anyway.ReplyDelete
and (i hesitate to admit this on a public forum, but i feel i ought to) until yesterday when i was watching the little map thing that shows where the plane is going on the screen, i thought singapore was a separate COUNTRY and not part of malaysiatrulyasia. i suck, no? i'm also now deeply mortified.
have a great birthday eM, first time commenter :)ReplyDelete
I grudgingly admit one thing: I think I visit ur blog more than you do. There, you got it out of me! And by the way, happy birthday (ggrrrr)ReplyDelete
hmmmm... reminds me kinda of the native american thing - the dad walks out as soon as the kid is born and the first thing he see's is what the kid is named after (hence sitting bull and lame duck and all that jazz!)ReplyDelete
silly as that is, to each his own.. and the zimmerman debate is just kinda redundant, should be forgotten.
glad you enjoyed all that Bali had to offer so thouroghly, and hope that thine birthday is enjoyable and worthy of remembrance!
Have a drink in my memory and Ill feel like Im there ;)
:) :) :) :)ReplyDelete
arithmAtic ??? *cring* *cringe* *CRINGE*ReplyDelete
No wonder you suck at it !
Happy B'day... Have a totally rocking day and night! (btw this is my first ever blog comment... that is on anyone's blog) What-ay-pity that Delhi's loss is Mumbai's gain and Chennai still doesn't get anything.ReplyDelete
what makes journalists so proud of junkets?ReplyDelete
"One Indonesian rupiah is about 200 bucks, and since my drink cost me 40k, that would be about Rs 200."ReplyDelete
huh? Should be the other way round - 200 Indonesian rupiahs is one Indian rupee.
And yes, Singapore is a country by itself.
Bali, huh? Despite being practically next door to it for most of my life, I never made it there. And now it's too late!ReplyDelete
Happy Birthday, sweetheart.
am feeling jealous of u journalist...so u did some gr8 shopping...bata flip flop from Bali...lolReplyDelete
keep blogging. I really envy you for getting you to go on such paid vacations.
happy birthday, sag!!ReplyDelete
but er, i think there's a little mistake in there.
//One Indonesian rupiah is about 200 bucks, and since my drink cost me 40k, that would be about Rs 200.//
it should be "200 indonesian rupiah is Re.1"
Belated Happy Birthday ! Hope you had a great time ! :)ReplyDelete
Your post reminded me for my vacation last year to Malaysia. Me and my friend went to a club and the dance floor was empty but we decided to dance anyway and guess what the DJ plays? "Mundiyan To Bachkey". Of course we gave the performance of a life-time in our version of bhangra and got standing ovation and free drinks. So not a bad deal :)ReplyDelete
Have a good birthday and a great year. You'll never be 25 again!
hippie butt dayReplyDelete
happy bday !! i had a great time at the party!ReplyDelete
Ok I am late. But hey, happy birthday teenybopper:0)ReplyDelete
why aren't you posting on ibibo ;)ReplyDelete
happy birthday anyway when you think of aging, remember that there are others (like me) who are older and deader!ReplyDelete
man-(a)ny, man-(a)ny humpy boydays ..... finally on the wrong side of the aging curve.ReplyDelete
Milk it for what its worth.... 40 is just 15 years away..oops 24 yrs and 364 days, 15 hours.. and counting... dum de dum...
opps .. i meant tick tock, tick tock ,tick tock.... dick dock .....ReplyDelete
oopsie...14 yrs and 364 days, 15 hours..dick dock ...ReplyDelete
My parents are posted in Indonesia currently and I have been stewing here three times a year for the past three years. The hundreds of thousands of rupiahs are very hard to adjust to, and I still exlaim in perplexed horror when I find out a DVD is Rp 10000.ReplyDelete
Speaking of DVDs, you couldn't have picked a better trio of movies: Borat is absolute rapier fucking shit, Transamerica is so tug-tug-at-strings-of-dil, and Fast Food Nation very ohhhh-really-eye-opening sort, kinda like Super Size Me.
Also please to be telling how you are knowing Dhruv Chitgopekar, who I rapped with to 'The Real Slim Shady' at the Class 12 farewell-party after consuming my first screwdriver! Terrible times.
Happy Birthday! And excuse my ignorance, but what on earth is a junket? And where can I get a job like that?ReplyDelete
sank you ALL for birthday greetings. do i sound older and wiser? :)ReplyDelete
as for how i know people, surly, you might be surprised to learn that this selfsame school was my lurking ground too, for two whole years. sigh.
education is overrated.
re: junket. loosely defined as an out-of-town trip on work, mostly undertaken by journalists, therefore, press junket.
and yeah, 200 IDR = 1 INR. my mistake :)
new post soon, when i'm less hungover!
In response to your comment:ReplyDelete
Hey, HEY, H-E-Y!
Just made the connection at the wrong place at the wrong time and didn't realize I was talking and NOT thinking!
I am sorry. I'm really not out to undo anyone here!
happpy happpy budddday :-)ReplyDelete
just way too many people celebrating their birthday's this weekend.
so as a tribute to em all who celebrate their birthday, I promise to binge drink tonight.
have a fab day missy !