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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29 September 2007
Once there was a sailor, Watt was his name
It's not without some sadness that I fold away my single life and put it up with mothballs somewhere at the back of my cupboard. Being single is awesome. Don't let anyone tell you it isn't (not even me when I'm being whiny and lonely). Being double is very awesome too--I could get all mushy on you at this point and do a whole Reasons Why I'm In Like With You thing, but I'm restraining myself heavily. (Oh but, sleeping with someone, not SEX, mind you, but just the actual act of sleeping is like some sort of drug. Really. I'm usually a kicking, tossing-around-in-my-sleep-only-to-wake-up-spreadeagled-across-the-bed kind of person, but this I could live with. Okay, I'll stop. See? I'm done!)
But I've noticed each time I blog about a relationship, it usually goes badly, and I'm superstitious like that. So for a while, with my dating, I kept it under cover, but this time I am totally tempting fate. I want to see if this lasts beyond this blog post, if this lasts beyond October even, if the good feelings have some basis in reality and not just my deluded mind. What shall we call him? So far we've had an initial (K., but that was very long ago), New Boy (which was nice, but very two years ago also), the Other Party (which I still like as a pseudonym, but using it again might be confusing) and the Nonboyfriend (which this isn't, so that doesn't apply really). I'm toying with Y chromosome. I think it has a nice, scientific ring to it, but then it seems rather long to type. An initial might be too revealing for his liking--even if it is a fairly regular initial, not like X or something. The Boy, The Boyfriend etc have been used waaay too often. Hmmm. This is harder than I thought. I know! We'll refer to him as Volt, a little inside pun I have going on with Deepti and Neel. (And he has lots of energy, fairly charged, positively electrical etc etc) Very nice. I'm so proud of myself now. Volt. Volt and eM. We sound like comic book characters.
In other news, I seem to have somehow gotten a bruise on the knuckle below my little finger. Which means this post will also have to be classified as "Injuries". When I first made that label, I assumed there would be one or two posts under it, but in this whole the-universe-will-fuck-with-me-each-time-I-blog-about-something thing, very obligingly, each week, sometimes, if I'm lucky, each month, I have a new injury to report. I might as well get it over with and admit to having strained my back badly from carrying my laptop backpack and rushing to catch a train. (I thought I'd be stylish and loosened the straps, so the backpack now hangs over my middle and lower back, ergo, backstrain. BUT I'm still not going to adjust the straps. Vanity, thy name is woman.) Perhaps certain obliging parties can be coerced into giving me a nice backrub.
My bed has no headrest and tonight, I sleep alone. Goodnight, lovelies, and I hope you all have pleasant news to relate this week as well.
(I wonder though if this general wellbeing is going to take away from the snark? That last line was positively angelic. I feel like I should insert a bitchy comment here just to reassure myself that I'm still here. Ah, fuck it. I'm in too good a mood to be bitchy. Next week, perhaps.)