Half asleep in frog short-shorts

I've just woken up from a stupor like nap, which lasted about three hours, after-effects of this last week where I was waking up at six and going to bed at midnight every day. eM minus sleep is normally not a happy camper, but I've had an excellent week, off on a training camp with the NGO I'm going to be working with. Everyone there was all MASSIVELY dedicated and massively passionate about what they did and I felt very small and insignificant and full of awe and developed a sort of mass crush, staring around me with shiny eyes. (Sadly, mostly all women.) I met many lovely new people, did some soul searching and soul baring and things I have never done before and yeah, basically, I'm really glad I went. But, in keeping with my not blogging about work-type things, I'm going to leave it at that.

Shortly, I have a date. I don't know whether it's a DATE date, or just an encounter with a man, but it involves me dressing up and wearing lots of perfume and shaving my legs and things like that. It's also with a man who looks a lot like Jesus Christ, which is kinda funny, coz my friend Sameer has for the longest time told me that he thinks my song is When You Were Young by the Killers. So every time I go out with a guy, he sings one line from the song, the bit where it goes: He doesn't look a thing like Jesus, but he talks like a gentleman, like you remember when you were yooooooung. And NOW he actually does look a lot like Jesus. Sameer, if you're reading this, HAH.

In terms of personal development though, I think post-Delhi, I'm doing quite well. I feel evolved and sorted and together and all that. Right before I left for Lonavla, I had quite the hectic weekend also. (Not thinking about going out for a week has made it a little hard to remember what exactly I did, but I think it's coming together now.) Friday, I had gone first to Boat Club (soooper shady, but cheap) with 4WD (whose blog address I have lost so he'll just have to comment on this post so I can link it) and Ira (who comments, but I don't know whether she wants me to link her or not.) And then of course to beloved Zenzi, where I'm going again tonight. Yay Zenzi. I have withdrawal symptoms, seriously. Although Zenzi is like the worst place for a first date because I inevitable meet SO many people I know and then they linger to chat and then everything is all social and less one-on-one. But that's okay in this situation because a) I don't know whether it IS a date and b) I think we're doing something post that as well. Yay for Saturday night in Bombay!

We had headed to China House after that and meh, I'm so over it. China House is not very nice any more, actually, no, scratch that, it's the same, I'm just not a huge fan any more. And I haven't been drunk in a while either. But that night I think there was tequila and then some mixing of drinks--vodka and Bacardi and something else and it's a wonder I woke up the next morning, not only hangover free but peppy enough to write three columns and send them out before 5 pm.

BB (another friend I surprisingly haven't blogged about earlier since before I went to Delhi we were hanging out ALL the time and now are convinced we're MFEO and BFF and all that) (That's Made For Each Other and Best Friends Forever, just in case you were wondering) had a party on Saturday evening, which began at four pm, which of course meant everyone showed up by seven. BB is called BB on this blog for a very specific reason, but I'm not going to elaborate because she's taller than I am and might sit on me. It was a good party, much alcohol, some cut up watermelon, but since both the Beebster and her flatmate are very popular people, their flat quickly got very crowded and hot and so I left with some other friends to go for another party.

The other party was in Worli, in a BUNGALOW by the SEA and I seriously did not know Bombay was hiding houses like that. There was a two-tiered garden and a white parapet which I leaned on and watched the moon reflect off the waves which lapped against the house. Beautiful. Inevitably, at all parties, I find myself DJing by the computer, so I found some music I liked and got people to dance and had a good time before I had to leave at two in order to get like five hours of sleep before I caught the bus the next day to Lonavla.

I'm kinda nervous about teaching though (which is what I'll be doing with the NGO). I mean, I've learnt the theory of it in the last week and next week I'll learn about the practicalities of it but it won't be the same before I actually DO it. I like kids, I like their personalities and their energy and their honesty but I don't know whether that qualifies me to impart knowledge or anything. But I really am looking forward to it. It helps that I'm creative, I guess, because I can take that and use it in the classroom. Imagine little ol' me a teacher. Wow. It's going to be so, so different from anything I've ever done and also, I think, the most challenging job I've ever had. Stage fright is overcoming me now.

It's 9.20 and I should go shower before my possible date with JC. It's good to be back though and not have to travel for a while! But, aargh, Bombay is soooooooo hot and sticky, I wish I had an air conditioned bubble to travel with.

ps: Would the anon who posted the last comment on this post please stand up? I'm very curious, and it was a lovely comment (even though I'd have preferred it to be a little less, um, specific), even though I'm not entirely sure it was directed at me, considering the last time I was at a beach was with KVA and I don't think he's leaving me loving comments. It's nice to recieve non-you-are-horrible comments from anons though, I must say.

Fatted and feted

I never do blog much when I'm on holiday, do I? But never mind. I'm whisking through Bombay for all of two days (I'm a little globetrotter, well, countrytrotter at any rate) and already have nice hectic weekend plans. Ahhhhhh, I'm going to be so BORED when this month is over and I have to go back to domesticity.

The train back was better than the train there (the train THERE had a) a snoring man who I had to POKE to get to turn over and he still kept snoring and I wanted to smother him b) MANY noisy children--seriously, parents? This is not cute. and c) one little girl who was sitting opposite me and asked me several times why I was reading so much. Gah) The train back had only one baby (not noisy, rather sweet actually) and two hell-monster kids who yelled till what felt like four am--train time being five hours ahead. And after being late with my period in Delhi (I was only comforted with the fact that I could not possibly be pregnant unless it was the immaculate conception or something, which was also unlikely coz I'm an atheist) I got it in one ENORMOUS torrent last night, trying to sleep in my very uncomfortable berth, my laptop bag tucked for safety underneath my pillow. I even woke up out of a sound sleep because I felt it descend. I guess my ovaries were waiting for me to be back on Maharastrian soil. Anyhoo, that meant unpacking my suitcase and pulling out a change of clothes and trying not to look embarrassed and having to manage on minimal sleep and a very chatty cabbie on my way home. Why do people keep trying to talk to me when really all I want is to have minimal human contact when I'm commuting? It's true--if I can't pick the company, I don't want ANY company. Hmph.

tc, my little Motu Singh, is delighted to have me back. Oh who am I kidding? I don't think he cares really. He rubbed himself against my legs for a bit and then went off to stare out of the window despite me going, "Hi baby! Mummy's home! Did you miss me? I missed you!" I even picked him up and squeezed him just for looking so adorable (and so FAT, that makes two of us, I guess, because I look like someone's inflated me) but he rolled his eyes at me and went away to lick himself furiously. I like to think I'm more than just a giant pair of legs that feeds him, but you know, you can't tell. (Awww.. and just as I wrote that, I heard a little miaow and tc came in my room to say hello. My Turqinder. I'm so full of sappy parenting feelings right now.)

Delhi this time was mainly house parties, which I love, including one mini-thing at my house. Bani and Maya had a wine and cheese thing at their (yes, yes, VERY CLEAN BRAND NEW ABSOBLOODYLUTELY SPOTLESS) house (they have a thing for housework right now, in case you can't tell) which concluded with butter chicken. And because I was so reminded of Leela, I had to call her and we had a lovely long chat. Only I mistook Camembert for Emmental, so we finished all the Camembert and Bani was like, "Dude! Emmental! Just for you!" and so I had to eat it all. by. myself. No wonder I'm fat.

Oh, and such fabulous shopping! I did Sarojini Nagar twice and I must tell you about all my clothes. (But I'll make it easy to skip by adding asterisks at the beginning and end of the shopping descriptors, THAT'S how much I love you.)

*****BEGIN CLOTHES DESCRIPTION**********************

One sleeveless pink tunic thing with pockets and button straps. (Ooh and I saw the IDENTICAL tunic at Pepe for like LOTS of money and I was all hah!)

One very pretty brown fitted dress with spaghetti straps and a flary skirt that reaches my knees. It's more khaki brown than BROWN brown and it has these strings you tie up at the neckline and I wear it with a red tie-die dupatta for a very Spanish effect. Teamed with...

.. silver kolhapuris, where the sole is so thin that it gets bent out of shape pretty soon. But I had a pedicure to match them.

A balloon skirt dress with a large sash and stars all over it, soooooooo pretty.

A blue belted tunic, a little bit too large for me, but very nice thin material so I won't die of the sweat.

New Converse sneakers in khaki which I have been coveting.

A long yellow t-shirt also of this incredibly thin, incredibly clingy cotton, the kind that looks like it'll fall apart if you look at it roughly with a picture of a cat driving a car on it and it says Le Chat Noir. See, see, why I bought it?

A clingy white top with lots of cleavage and the kind of material designed to show even a mole on your stomach.

A dotted black and white tunic, with tiny cap sleeves and a sweet little belt.

Another yellow top, but this time made of cheesecloth, with smocking and peasant girl sleeves.

A black and white striped shirt, also slightly large for me, but looks good with jeans on.

And, not from Sarojini, but Pepe Jeans, I bought another long-sleeved shirt, with frayed edges and a paisley design.

K, I'm done.

*******************END DESCRIPTION****************************

I met K again, which was nice and after a VERY long time too. We're kinda, sorta, friends now, which is lovely. No lingering looks, no snide remarks, just everything on the table. I'm happy, he's happy and I guess we wish each other well and all that. There were some pockets of weirdness, but I don't think those are EVER going to go away, even if we're both married happily and have five hundred children. But we hung out like civilised adults even though I kept getting surprised looks from mutual friends. ("Uh.. you guys are hanging out now?" "So, you and K are like friends again?" To which I said, "Phssssssssh. Whatever. The past is the past.") Oh, and also I changed outfits a hundred million times each time there was a meeting. Yeah. Most mature.

Ya know, back in the day, when my move to Bombay was only six months old, I faced a classic immigrant problem. Bombay wasn't yet my home and Delhi had ceased to be my home. And now, I looked out from the Rajdhani at Delhi AND at Bombay and said happily to myself, "Home!" Isn't that awesome?

Delhi, Open Letters To,

To The New Fancy Busstops:

Dear New Fancy Busstops,
You are indeed very new and very fancy. But you are also clogging up traffic. And you are distractingly shiny. I also suspect you are related in a distant cousin way to the Metro digging happening everywhere, especially the one which has transformed the landscape of Saket, where I used to live very happily only a little more than a year ago. So, while I have nothing against you, could you take your new shininess to less busy roads than the Chirag Delhi flyover intersection?


To People I Have Met In The Last Four Days:

STOP TELLING ME I'VE PUT ON WEIGHT!!!

(*ahem* sorry for yelling.)

To The Very Rude Bouncer Lady At Urban Pind:

Asking for a plastic glass to take my drink away in does not equate to the response: "This is not a Fountain Pepsi place" in a very snotty tone. You've lost yourself one customer. And I hope people who read this online will desist from patronising Urban Pind where CLEARLY they don't even ask for the basics in customer relations, ie, politeness.

To My Friends:

Thank you for making me feel like I never left. It's been so, so awesome. Parties abound, socialising abounds and I wonder like I always do when I'm here, why I ever bother to leave.

To My City:

Thank you for having excellent weather, and raining and being so different and yet exactly the same.


Sigh.. Only nine days left.