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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21 November 2007
Mostly At The Celebrate Bandra festival, but other locations as well
Oh, and this is mainly where I'll be chilling on and off for the next couple of weeks, so if you see me, say hi!
* Celebrate Bandra is a lovely idea, and it gives me many things to do in the evenings, all for FREE! YAY! but there are two things about it that annoy me:
a) The Celebrate Bandra song, which goes, let's celebrate, mmmm, let's celebra-ate, BAN-dra. It's annoying because though the words are so lame, the tune is fucking catchy, so I find myself humming it all over the place and then going aaaargh, make it stop!
b) Even though TECHNICALLY I live in Bandra, when they say Bandra they mean Bandra West which pisses me off. If you prick us, will we not bleed?
* There were these two kids opening for the jazz act on Sunday--young boys who couldn't have been more than 17, with vulnerable necks and too-large heads and still skinny bodies and they were playing Dave Matthews Band and one of their guitar strings broke, so he couldn't play the lead anymore so he just sat on his high stool and laughed through the rest of the song and I wondered for an instant, what it would be like to be 17 and be his girlfriend. Then I thought that perhaps he was one of those loners in school, with no other friends except the other chap on the guitar and me, of course, with braces and skinny legs that smelt of moisturiser. But then, from there I wondered what it would be like to be his mother, and watch him from the audience feeling all overcome with love and pride and somehow that was a more credible thought than being seventeen, and I think I'm aging far too rapidly for my liking. This is a little bit creepy.
* I went to Kohinoor Circus yesterday (somewhere in Sion, if you're interested) with a friend and we were all anticipatory and thrilled at Reliving Our Childhood and I even bought a box of the scratchy yellow popcorn I used to eat by the kilo when I was a kid and there were elephants playing football and a woman who balanced on her head and two men who whizzed around inside a wooden globe on motorcycles and then we realised the popcorn was too scratchy and the fireeater was doing stuff we had seen a million times before, and suddenly, instantly, we grew from six to 26 and 28 and we looked at each other and left. Growing up sucks.
* Shark Tooth is moving out and I'm looking for a new flatmate. A girl, I think, this time. Email me if you or someone you know is interested.
* I miss you most at live music concerts, when I think about how much you would have enjoyed it and how much I would have enjoyed it, being with you and how afterwards we could talk about it, perhaps I would be smoking a cigarette and you would be actually letting me and not making disapproving sounds and perhaps we'd not have any arguments at all--not one and I'd think how this is getting better, and for an instant, I am swept away at this live music concert, thinking of you, and then everything else comes flooding back and I remember that I'm not liking you very much anymore, so then I think about something else.
* Yesterday, I was making fun of my friend about something, and mid-sentence, just as I got halfway through my jeer, I tripped over a post on the road and badly bumped my shin and hopped up and down in agony and though he was sympathetic, he looked slightly smug and when I said, "Clearly, god is punishing me" he nodded and smiled.
* I would like to be a Saturday night on a Tuesday night, and do tequila shots somewhere anonymous with someone, and feel all full of energy and rapid and alive and swap stories about when you were little and how it felt when your baby sister was born, and can you roll your tongue like I can. And I would like to meet someone new, whose stories I haven't heard before, someone new to instantly get and instantly fall in love with and say OH MY GOD YOU DO THAT TOO. And I would like to meet someone old, who I have many in jokes with, and who I can let finish my sentences and who will roll their eyes at me affectionately and we will sit in an auto, and our jeans will rub against each other comfortably. I would like to finish by five in the morning, as the sun is just coming up, and we've spent the last hour staring at the lights reflected on the sea and not saying very much anymore and I would like for you to squeeze my arm as I leave and I would like to climb up the stairs and hear my phone beep and it will be a funny text message that will epitomise our evening.