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
Sign up for my newsletter: The Internet Personified
14 May 2007
I'm not fun ill. I'm not all oh-chin-up-old-girl, or even gently ignoring my sorrows, knitting bravely.
When I'm ill, I want the WORLD to know about it and sympathise. I am grouchy. I blow my nose with defiance. I droop melodramatically over any surface I might be occupying. My voice goes all grainy so I have to repeat everything I say about six times, my expression going more and more martyred. "I said I'd like some soup."
But still. You should feel sorry for me. My nose is sore, my throat hurts, and I feel like I might be getting a fever constantly, which I can assure you, is far more annoying than actually having a fever.
Being sick sucks. It sucks even more this weekend because waaah Hobo is in town! And I can't be all rah-rah-Hobo with the level of enthusiasm that the situation deserves, because I'm all sick and coughy. So now I'm going rah-cough-rah-Hobo! So awesome to have her here though. I went to go get her from the airport, her flight being four hours late. (NEVER EVER fly Indian. EVER. It's the crappest airline in the world, and I've even flown Uzbekistan). The nice thing about this city is that it's okay for a woman to be hanging around the airport in the middle of the night, chilling, smoking a cigarette, drinking Coke and no one will bother her. Well, no one bothered me. I was left comfortably alone. At one something, she finally came out of the airport, looking like a model or something. She's recently had laser surgery, so there were no spectacles, her hair was blowdried straight and shampoo-ad inspiring, and I felt most grubby and sweaty.
We drove to Pieces' friend's house, closer than Pieces' actual home, where they had decided they would stay for the duration of her visit. And then I went home, only to meet with Hobo the next afternoon, when I took her out to lunch to The Bagel Shop, which I love, even if it is rather pricey. Salmon and cream cheese filled, we went back to mine and napped. (In separate beds, oh ye of lesbian porn minds) and then went to meet some of her friends at a restaurant that serves really cheap alcohol, and an excellent Bloody Mary. My cold had returned with full force, and I was sitting on the other side of a fairly crowded table, and since I couldn't make myself heard, I ate my french fries and sniffled loudly. We were all for going somewhere exciting at night, but wound up trudging to Toto's instead, where we spent a couple of hours. Around eleven thirty Hobo wanted to go elsewhere, and not knowing where we could take her, we went to one of the shadiest places I have seen, a place called Boat Club, which was sadly packed to the brim, and full of smoke, which killed her eyes. By this time, I was ready to fade away and die quietly somewhere, so when we went back to Pieces' friend's house, I snuck away into one of the bedrooms and napped till my ride home was ready to leave.
This morning, I still feel all stuffy faced, but having just got a text from Hobo going: "Let's go get early dinner tonight, I'm heading out, so will meet in town ie Marine Drive and Colaba." I feel once more ready to take on the day. When Beloved Friend From Over The Seas is in town, my immune system can handle itself on its own, because I'm not pandering to it. I'll be ill tomorrow. Oh wait, I have work to do. Fine, I'll be ill next weekend, where as far as I know, no one is expected. Today, I will be excited and rah-rah and energetic. So help me God. Yeah.