Another year, another archive over

Here I sit, listening to a baraat go by on my very noisy street. In the bedroom lies my boy and my suitcase, all packed and good to go for tomorrow. Twenty oh nine, for the Compulsive Confessor at any rate, is over. Good year? Mostly. Bad year? Not so much. Boring year? Some bits, yes.

When did the years start speeding by so fast? Is this an age thing that no one tells you about? Is my life now this, months on fast forward, days on a loop, life that swirls around you? Ten years ago, I graduated from school and had just started college. Ten years! 

I remember last December vividly, I remember the beach, the feel of sand between my toes, the just-the-two-of-us-holiday that me and Ira took, the beginning of long distance and feeling the gap yawning between us, between seas, hating geography for making us so far apart.

I remember January and going for a good friend's wedding. I remember what I wore--a shiny blue dress--I remember the bamboo good luck things we were given, I remember as the newlyweds walked on to the dance floor, he took the mic and sang to her. I remember her tossing the bouquet and watching Ira leap and catch it, while I lurked, chicken-like in the middle of a crowd. 

I remember February and how I went abroad to meet a person I loved for the first time ever. I remember being in England with the English and how everything was so very new. I remember tumbling out of a warm station into the cold night and how just then it began to snow and I saw little flakes of what looked like thermocol balls falling from the sky and I tilted my head back and watched, even as JC hurried me into the car. I remember saying goodbye the second time and how it was harder and yet easier than the first.

March is sort of blurry in my mind. There were many parties and many new people. There was still the darn ol' recession, but there was improvisation. There were new bars. There was joy and impatience, all rolled into one package.

April, oh April, it was getting hotter. And I couldn't write. April meant long sessions with insomnia, house hunting and pottering around the city, looking for my lost muses. 

In May, we moved into our new house, which I still love just as much as I did then. This also meant moving to a posh address, which was a first for me. Another first--living with a boyfriend. All things went swimmingly, considering. I can't imagine being anywhere else.

In June, the monsoon arrived and everything got a respite from being so damn hot all the time. I discovered the joys of having almost anything home delivered. I had a haircut (all grown out now, sadly). I participated (or tried to) in an online Novel Race to see who'd finish first. Best of all, I discovered my lost muse, who had clearly been summering abroad.

In July, I became officially domesticated. I had been fighting it for a while, but then I just sat back and let my inner 50's housewife out. I learnt to cook some things, decorated like a madwoman and entertained. It's fun. 

In August, Small came to visit (and I may as well tell you that her and JC are now BFF) and we went to Goa again. We enjoyed having a houseguest, and she was a model one. I did the gay pride parade and lived to tell the tale. 

In September, long distance began again in earnest. I wrote a little piece of erotica that got published in a book. I went to Chandigarh and Delhi talking about You Are Here, which was very fun and I did my first feature for a foreign publication. Good month for writing. Ooh, and I also bought a camera, which helped me discover a love for photography that I didn't think I had.

In October, we had a crossdressing Halloween party and a garage sale. We did Diwali parties galore. I went to Kerala again and made some new friends. I answered some of your questions--not all--but most. 

In November (was it only last month?), I went to Sri Lanka on a family holiday. It was a year of much travel, I see now, and I am grateful. More please, 2010? The Celebrate Bandra festival happened and I spoke at Olive. In other kudos, I was on NPR, which was a Very Big Deal for me. I learnt to use the new camera a little bit better, which gave me great pleasure.

And finally here we are. The dregs of 2009. The very end, which you need to down quickly and top up your glass. I had a wonderful Christmas, we got a tree and exchanged presents (I got a watch and he got cologne). My friends and I did a Secret Santa gift exchange, which wasn't quite as secret as it should have been, but still fun to do. I saw Avatar and liked it. I got Google Wave and eh, ignored it after a couple of uses. I wrote a whole bunch of things. 

Let my new year be happy. Let new opportunities come through. I am ready for change, 2010, and I can handle it. Let travel happen, let long distance become together-all-the-time, let me figure out cash and jobs. Let me be greedy and ask for more, more, more, and please, give it to me. Let everyone I love be safe and happy this year too. Make it an exciting year, a good year, a year we will not want to say goodbye to.

This is my wish for 2010.

You never know what to expect OR Bombay: a lesson

Happy Christmas Eve Eve!


I had a great birthday. I got brilliant presents (notably, one HTC Tattoo, one coffee maker and a pair of stripy Wellington boots for the rain). We all drank from 12 pm to 2 am as promised and I was practically falling over by the end of it.

JC is back and I am happy. We are off to Goa to bring in the New Year on Sunday. I promise to do a proper year ender post before I leave as I always do, so you won't miss that.

Oh, dudes, the point of this post, before I miss it! I nearly got scammed today! So, JC and I decide to go to High Street Phoenix (which, man, they have jazzed up since the last time I visited. It's all fancy and has its own TGIF and everything. Ultimate Margaritas, here I come!). Anyway, so because it's non-rush hour, I decide to drive and the two of us are trundling along SV Road, me moving a couple of inches each time the traffic moves, chilling, you know, the usual. THEN, this guy walks past, gives me a horrified look and says, "Your car is sparking!" Only, he walked by so fast we only heard "Your car is bwawahwah." We ignore him and move another couple of inches and then another dude comes up and goes, "Your car is sparking! It's going to catch fire! Move it to the side of the road!"

JC and I regard each other in horror. I have visions of the car blowing up along Tulsi Pipe Road, our charred bodies being pulled from the mass, then there's the vision of us running action movie style away from the flaming car. It was momentous in my brain for a bit. A rickshaw is moving towards us, I wave at him so I can move my car to the side of the road and as an afterthought ask whether the front of my car is sparking. He says no, but by this time, the dude who pointed out my car being on fire in the first place is waving us down frantically. "Turn off the car!" he yells and so we do. He says he knows a mechanic nearby, and he'll go and get him.

"Wow," I say to JC, "Good thing we noticed now, huh?" He nods. Our eyes are huge with what-could-have-beens.

The mechanic comes running along. He asks me to open the bonnet. I do and step out of the car. A kindly passer by tells me to roll up my window. This is good advice, so I do and grab my bag while I'm at it. A new phone cannot be trusted to the whims of fate.

The mechanic gestures to me. He asks me to start the car and peer at a thingy* with him. I peer dutifully. He pulls the thingy tight and shows me sparks! Actual sparks! We're all going to die sparks!

I turn to him, beseeching. "Whatever shall I do?"**

"Worry not, fair maiden," he said (paraphrasing here), "What you need is a new alternator. I'll go fetch it."

My brain at this point starts having a haaaaaaaaaaaang-on-a-moment moment. You know what I mean, right? When all sorts of little clicks and whirls happen in your mind and you're suddenly wondering what's wrong with this picture. My haaaaaaaaaaaang-on-a-moment moment was just at the mention of having to get  a brand new alternator. I know not much about car thingies but I know that replacing this particular thingy would be quite expensive. Also, my parents taught me well. I said, firmly, "Fine, but get me a sealed alternator." He nodded and vanished.

"What's going on?" asked JC.

"I need a new alternator," I told him.

The mechanic reappears with a thingummy which he said was the alternator, in a plastic packet. Not sealed. "Is this new?" I asked and he was quick to reassure me. Then he shoved it into the car, asked JC and his other chap, who told me my car was on fire in the first place to rock the car back and forth. "Your connection's not good so I'm putting in my connection," he said. I translated for JC. We both looked confused. The mechanic repeated, "Your. Connection. No. Good. Replacing. With. Mine."

I tried to look intelligent.

Rocking done, he closed the lid and said, "Now drive it." We drove it. No sparks. A miracle! "Talk to my seth on the mobile phone," he said, "He'll tell you how much it costs." Two things are happening simultaneously at this point. My mind is going, "Huh. Takes longer to change a tire." and the extra pointed-out-fire-chappie is going, "I'm the seth, talk to me."

I raise my eyebrows at the mechanic. "Take me to your shop."

"But talk to him on the mobile phone! The shop's all the way back there and you'll be in traffic again."

"This guy is saying he's the seth."

Deathly looks exchanged from one dude to another. "Oh he is," says the mechanic, "Just of his own shop."

"Bring your seth here," I say.

"But talk to him on the phooooooooooooone!" Mechanic is losing his patience.

"Anyone could be anyone on a cellphone," I say to him calmly and Pointed-Out-Fire-Dude nods wisely in agreement.

We pull over and I ask the damage.

"6000," I am told.

"WTF?"

Then I remember something my mother told me to do always. I ask to see the old alternator if he replaced it.

"It's in your car!" bleats the mechanic who will now earn "" around his name.

"Show me." I say, sternly.

He opens the hood, points out the new thingy and then says the old thingy is still lying in the car. "They'll take it out next time you service it," he says.

JC steps in, all masterful. "Show me the alternator," he says. "Mechanic" points and closes the hood again. JC re-opens it and peers inside. "Where is the old one?" "Insiiiiiiiiiide," "Mechanic" is getting quite exasperated with us.

"Take it out," I say, "I'm going to give it to my own service station."

"I tell you what," says Pointed-Out-Fire Dude, "Give me 3000 and check with your guy and then if it's not real, come back and give me the rest. I can even get you a bill."

I'm still not entirely convinced this is not for real, I mean, it's pretty elaborate, with the plants on the road and all, so I agree. He rushes off and comes back with....

... a torn piece of paper.

No, seriously. They invested so much in this scam, you'd think the least they'd do is get a proper letterhead.

The paper has an illegible stamp on one corner which he points to and says, "My address."

Underneath that, it says, "Alternater -- Rs. 6000." And a squiggle.

I laugh. I really do. I hand him back the piece of paper and tell the "mechanic" to take out his alternator. He refuses, the other guy goes, "But I got you the bill!" Then JC steps in, all masterfully again (mmmmmm) and says, "Take it out." They do and then ask for labour charges. I wave them away. They watch me go, pouting.

We were very close to being had.

This is a public service announcement for anyone who drives in this crazy city. Your car is not on fire. But somebody's pants are.

*my scientific term for anything under a car hood.

** channelling Scarlett O'Hara

Never too old to be the birthday girl

If you know me, then you know my birthday is possibly the HUGEST DEAL IN THE WORLD to me. It's true. In the past, I began talking about it in like August, because I was so excited and now, I'm not much better, though I have managed to hold off till at least November before I make plans. People are amused, because, well, at 28, you expect someone to take a chill pill already about turning a year older, but it's so exciting! And it's a day all about meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! And more meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! How can you not love that? So in honour of the upcoming weekend, I'm doing a list post of my top five absolutely favourite birthdays. (Add your own memories in the comments.)

1. Age 13, December 1994--my "disco" themed birthday: Got a sound system and strobe lights and decked out my entire living room like a disco. I wore a tube skirt and a white top with a black crochet vest and a silver belt around my waist. I called about 20 people from school, we had dinner and danced and best of all, I got Canada Dry (that ginger ale) for drinks, so we could pretend we were drinking beer and feel very grown up.

2. Age 22, December 2003--This birthday stands out because I! GOT! A! CAR! Best birthday present of all time. I can't remember what I did with the day, but I do remember driving everywhere and leaving the plastic on for ages.

3. Age 25, December 2006-- Combination birthday/leaving do from Delhi. This just stands out because there were lots and lots of people and so much nostalgia/sentimentality. It makes me all awwww even thinking about it.

4. Age 3 or 4, December 1984/85--Got a Hansel and Gretel cake designed for my birthday (An aside: I always wanted a very elaborately shaped cake and so my mum and I would together design it and take it in to Nirula's which did a good job. The other day, I go to Nirula's and I'm flipping through their cake book and oh. my. god! There are all my cakes passing off as Nirula's designs! Can you sue for cake plagiarism?) This was a big deal, because I was terrified of the witch and in a moment of birthday triumph, I grabbed her marzipan figure and bit off her head. Ha-ha. So there, witch!

5. Age 19, December 2001--I was in college for this birthday and my friend and I had a joint do at her house. It was my first experience with organising a party completely unassisted by my parents (even though she did the organising, being much better at it. I just followed orders.) Also, this was the year I was introduced to the marvel of cellphone technology, having received my first phone from the 'rents--a beautiful, purple, Motorola Talkabout. (This year, I have asked for a new cellphone again, going for the HTC Tattoo.)

Ah, good times. This year, we do a poolside brunch (the nice thing about living in a city with summer all year round). And JC is back tomorrow, ending our long separation and life. is. good.