Make like a sommelier and wine

One of the best parts about writing a book (apart from the actual writing of it) are all the invitations you get to go places and talk about it. I always feel like something of a fraud when I get up on those panels, ready to discourse on Indian Women And Sex or whatever the topic of the day is. A fraud because, well, I wasn't trying to make a statement or speak for Indian women in general, not with this blog, not with the book. I was just talking about stuff that happens, to me and sometimes to my limited circle of friends and acquaintances.


Anyway. That was a very long digression to get to my point. Which was about the cool part about being an author/blogger/general writer-at-large. I got an email last week talking about the Sulafest (which I had heard people making plans about and was very jealous) and asking if I wanted to come and write about it for my blog. If I did, they'd send me passes. One of my new year's resolutions was to always say 'yes' if a new experience presented itself. And I didn't need much convincing for this one. I was mentally checking off all the things I like: travelling, impromptu trips, wine, music, shopping? What's not to love?  JC decided he didn't want to go at the last minute and so I made some calls and got a new friend, Christine, to come with.

Christine and I got super excited, even retiring to bed early on Friday night so we could be all fresh and ready for our journey ahead. I have never, ever been to a vineyard associating it with something "socialites" do, you know, like going to the Derby and wearing a big old hat. The drive to Nashik was looong (about four hours) and HOT and our driver was a jackass (Public Service Announcement: If you're using Just Dial to get a driver for long distance runs, do NOT use Dolphin Travels.) But Christine and I amused ourselves by plugging in her iPod (one earphone for each of us) and singing loudly and tunefully along to show tunes and random Hindi movies. At least, we sounded pretty tuneful to me.

When we got to Nashik, wouldn't you know? The hottest day in AGES. And the sun was super-sharp. We went to get something to eat and the sun kept burning the back of my calves. Pretty soon, Christine and I were both ready to collapse. "Let's go up to the Tasting Lounge and get a drink," I suggested and we limply made our way upstairs, where many other people had had the same idea. Once there, we got a Merlot (me, and no, Sideways hasn't put me off it) and Chenin Blanc (her. I've never been a white wine person, no matter what the weather. I can do rose in a pinch, but not white.) And then we people-watched for a while. Observation #1: People dress for vineyards as they would for Goa, so lots of short-shorts, flowy sundresses and so on. I was glad we dressed up.

The heat and wine got a bit too much for Christine so she decided to gently fade away on the couch. There was a couch! There was this huge tent in the middle, a little away from the bar at the festival and it was all decorated by Good Housekeeping and had a tarot reader, a caricature artist and a tattoo guy (fake tattoos). I sat and read a magazine to keep her company for a while but then I decided to go and check out the tarot. For those of you who didn't know, I've been reading tarot cards since I was about 14. I'm not professional, by any means, I do it for love, not cash, and I use a Guide To The Tarot to interpret, but I've gotten pretty good readings off my cards. So, I've never really had my cards read by anyone else. I told the tarot artist this (a young girl, a make-up artist who had been reading cards for like a year) and she got all sniffy with me, "Oh, you're one of THOSE. Why don't you just read your cards yourself?" I was a little bit taken aback and said I couldn't without my book and she felt a little better and said one question would be a hundred rupees. Wow. There's totally money to be made, and I'm not exploiting that! Hmmm. Maybe I SHOULD be doing my readings for money at bazaars and things. Anyway, so I asked about my engagement and whether things would go well, and she made me shuffle them and said, "Yes. But even better if you move somewhere else." So, yeah. There's my hundred rupee answer.

Finally, I got a little tired of sitting in the tent, which was shaded, but stifling, so I went for a walk and ran into some other friends. I got Christine up, and she seemed a little better so we chilled with them for a bit. By then, the music had started, and it was a little bit cooler, so off I went for a top-up of my merlot and we wandered to the top of the amphitheatre where we watched a lot of great bands and the sun setting. Something Relevant was my favourite, but the others were pretty good too, especially Shkabang where the lead singer did this version of You spin my head right round, right round which I loved. There were LOTS of people there, some famous, some not, but basically all of Bombay had decended. (See Miss Malini's very fun photoblog for pictures, plus one of my dress and red wine mouth.)

Anyhoo. We had to leave before the last band came on, because we were aiming to get back to Bombay by midnight. Everyone else we met seemed to be spending the night, which seems like a good option for next time. I LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE red wine. It never gives me a hangover the next day. And while sometimes wine at bars in Bombay can be old (and not in a good way) and nasty tasting, the wine at the festival was perfect. Wine as it should be drunk. Even though our horrible driver snarled at us, took a long dinner break halfway through and drove at the speed of light all the way home, I had a brilliant time. I think this should be a regular outing for me, and I wish other places would do it too.

A couple of quibbles I had though: 1) I think included in the price of the entry ticket (Rs 700) should be at least one glass of complimentary wine. I know Christine and I didn't have to pay for our tickets, so I was okay spending at the bar, but still. 2) The "food court" which was more a "food stall" with biryani, kebab (single piece per plate) and slices of pizza should definitely be expanded, 3) I think there should have been a sort of 'Sula Shuttle' with the vineyard organising buses that you could get on to at a price, which went back and forth and 4) Next year, I think a little earlier in the year, like January or early February would be the perfect weather, specially since it's all outdoors. Minor stuff though, and I'm sure they'll iron out the details eventually. But, if you have a chance, you should make a weekend of it. Nothing is as decandant as a day listening to music and drinking. Brilliant.

And if you're around Bandra on Friday, a friend of mine is organising an event at the salon Jean-Claude Biguine, on Chapel Road at 7.30 pm. Perks include complimentary wine and cheese, massages and a chance to buy a gift card and help out her NGO, Atma. Come! Details on Facebook here.

Why I love my friends

A little while after we announced our engagement on Facebook (yes, we're new age like that), I got a series of mysterious emails from my friends. The emails said things like, "Keep yourself free on Saturday, the 13th" and "Pick one: Tote, Olive, Zenzi Mills, Shiro". Very excitedly, I replied to the emails, confirming the free-ness and what place I liked best. Any questions I asked were politely but firmly discouraged. Of course, this whipped me up into a wild state of excitement, where I got practically no work done in the last week, because I was looking forward to Saturday so much.

THEN, Monday last week, an invite rolled into my email, sending me to a link called 'She bites the dust!" (Which was then changed, amidst much giggling to 'eM and JC: They Are There". Because of the book, get it? get it? Well, it was funny for US.) BB, Ira and Bulbul had pulled the whole thing off. There were invites to EVERYONE I knew and had been or was close to, I mean, I even looked through the thing intending to ask some people and I didn't have to! It was excellent. There was a random picture of me and JC, from our trip to England, sitting in the British Museum, there were some other pictures of us, and me and Ira and BB. It was beautiful. The location was Tote, but I was told to come over to BB's a little earlier for a 'girl's only' drinks and dinner. I couldn't believe how well they had organised it all.

Of course, giggles took over my stalwart planning crew and soon enough all sorts of random pictures started appearing on the event page, like one of KJO and SRK and another of two little animated chimpanzees hugging each other. Riiiiiiiiiiiiiight. Their hearts are in the right place though.

On Thursday, JC and I were taking a little shopping trip for him to get himself a new hard drive, and the rickshaw broke down in front of a (whaddayaknow?) line of jewellery shops. And he looked at me and I looked at him and we said, "FATE, BABY!" and picked out the most gorgeous ring, a picture of which I am posting here and I swear, I'm not going to descend into Bridezilla and only post wedding related madness, but there are two things you should know a) I'm a junk jewellery person And b) I have never owned diamonds in my entire life (except for some earrings once, which I lost). So all this while, I've been like, meh, what's the big deal, cats are a girl's best friend not diamonds but then I got it and OHMYGOD I have never loved a piece of jewellery so much. It's like I've morphed into the kind of girl you love to hate in chick flicks who sticks out her left hand so everyone can admire the rock she has on her finger and what has happened to me? Anyhoo, female instincts intact, I can safely admit that this ring now explains everything I have never understood about the whole women + jewellery cliche.




Saturday came, and I had absolutely nothing to wear. I was going to go with this pink dress I bought on Hill Road and can I say how glad I am that the whole empire waistline debacle has gone out of style? Everywhere I look now, instead of ghastly maternity type outfits are beautiful creations with fitted waists and plunging backs and now we can finally move on. My pink dress is very pretty with a cutaway back, but you know, everyone else was going to get dressed up and I was the only one going to be wearing something Hill Road-esque. So, I went shopping to my absolutely favourite place for 'special occasion dresses', a tiny shop called Wardrobe in Pali Naka (opposite Da Vinci) and picked up a cowl neck jersey dress, which is SOOOOOOOOOOOO hot. Then, off to Linking Road to get a chain metal belt, plus tangerine heels, hair up, dangly earrings and I was all set.
 
The girls really outdid themselves for that dinner. People had been delegated to get food and drinks and there was champagne! (which I still can't drink) and everyone made toasts to me (awwww) and we got quite drunk and danced to Bollywood and now I'm quite looking forward to the bachelorette party. Tote had some strange rules about reservations (paying a certain amount of money up front) so we decided to take our chances and go somewhere none of us had been before, Escobar in Bandra. Which, by the way? Is BEAUTIFUL. I swear, it's huge, it's seriously awesome, only they have some strange dress code rules, so a friend of mine had to go back and hunt through Bandra for a shirt. Weird.
 
At Escobar, we got even drunker, some of us more so than others and then teeter-tottered back to our house, where the party went on till the wee hours. I have a bottle of tequila hidden away for emergencies, so I had a couple of shots and danced around and I'm pretty sure our neighbours hate us, but hell, you only get engaged once, right? It was also a really good mix of people, from all over the place, so I think the vibe was quite interactive-y, even though there were some people there I certainly had never seen before (and might not ever again.)
 
Of course, Valentine's Day was spent in Hungoverville, me and JC both too ill to do anything, let alone romantic plans. But still, I spent the day reading in bed, and managed to emerge later and we had some quiet time, which is always good.
 
But can I just say? My friends? They are brilliant and I love them, and oh, everyone deserves to be surrounded by people who they love and who love them and the feelings of pure goodwill and LUCK are just pouring out of me. It was just the most perfect, no tension night, and one of the best parties yet.
 

Yes

The time: 5 a.m.
The reasoning: I can't wait anymore
The subject: Asleep and dreaming

Woken up, my eyes still closed. The sky outside our bedroom is just about beginning to lighten.  "Hmmmm?" I say, still trying to catch on to the last edges of my dream.

"Will you marry me?" he asks, and this is when I do open one eye and look at him and say, "Okay", feeling my heart speed up a little bit, although I'm still half asleep, still half-thinking this is a dream.

I wake up the next morning and walk over to him and say, "Did you propose to me last night?" He confirms it. We are engaged. The spur-of-the-moment thing means my ring is still on the internet (but I have seen it, and it is LOVELY. Just what I would've picked myself, which apparently I did, through a friend's sneaky machinations.)

And now, we flutter around in post engagement honeymoon (did you know that existed? It DOES!) and we are sickeningly soppy and mushy and can't keep our hands off each other and this is brilliant, this is my happily ever after, this is the man I want to (and will!) be with for the rest of my life.

Duuuuuuuuuuudes. I am a FIANCEE. Fucking hell. When did I get all grown up?

Schmoooooozing away

I was in Delhi and Jaipur over the last ten days, and with limited to zero internet access. Of course, I have my beautiful cellphone which made me wonder how I have gotten along without my email sent straight to my cell for all these YEARS, but you can't blog from a cell. I know, coz I tried.

If you follow me on Twitter (and you SHOULD), then you know what I've been up to. If you don't, here's a quick recap.

I was part of a panel called Teen Deviyan, which is apparently a Dev Anand film, which I didn't know until the day itself (which goes to show how much I know about retro Bollywood). Moderated by (dun dun DA dun) Chetan Bhagat, the other two deviyans were Ira Trivedi (who was in Kovalam with me, and we're pretty good buddies) and Anjum Hasan (who I hadnt met before, but whose book I LOVED). I wondered how they had chosen the panel. There's Ira, former model, prolific writer, whose books cover Indian high society and the troubles therein. There's Anjum, with her lyrical, serious prose, the most "literary" of all of us. And then there's me, with my coming-of-age story of a young girl in the urban Indian mileu. Maybe it's because we were all young? Maybe because we all wrote about urban India? Who can say.

Mr B. was in full form. Some people found his questions rather facile, but say what you like about him, the panel was entertaining and amusing. He really did his research too--he was supposed to be only introducing us, originally, but at the last minute, decided to do a moderated session. This worked for me, because I am TERRIFIED of public speaking (no, really). So I read like two paragraphs or something and hoped the mic wasn't picking up on my thumping heart. I was even more nervous because this was like the BIGGEST crowd I had ever read in front of. Of course, they were mostly there for Chetan, but they were going to listen to me, Chetan's fans or not, and I had to say something, not just trip over my own tongue with nervousness.

There were SOME fireworks on stage, but I was blissfully unaware of it all, mostly. Once I finished my part, I sat down and enjoyed myself, watching all the various dynamics at play. Besides, on a completely selfish note, I learnt later that I sold ONE HUNDRED COPIES, which made me walk around for the next two days with a big grin on my face. I love it when people buy the book.

OOOH. I FINALLY met Sidin Vadukut after many years of just about missing each other. I also read his book, Dork, which is really funny and you should read it too.

The much awaited 'Writer's Ball' was meh, not as fun as last year. There were too many people for one thing, so that feeling of exclusivity last year's had was missing. Also, the buffet spread and the several dinner tables made it feel a bit too much like a shaadi for my liking. And the dance floor was sort of tiny. We did have an after party at a friend's GORGEOUS house (funny story, we were at the same house a couple of days earlier, and me and another friend went for a smoke to the garden. "Let's explore!" we said and went for a walk around the grounds*. In the distance, we see a white statue of a woman and as we get closer, I SWEAR it looks like it's moving. "It looks like it's moving!" I squealed and the two of us ran daintily back to the house, holding our wine glasses out in front of us.)

*not an exaggeration. Really "grounds".

We spent a lot of time at Cafe Flow (trying very hard not to make menstrual jokes) which was this coffee shop in the same venue, but unlike everything else, not free refreshments. They made BRILLIANT Bloody Marys for all their crappy food and eventually crappy coffee, so if you're ever in Jaipur craving a perfectly done Mary, that's the place to go. Diggi Palace. Cafe Flow was also sort of the writers-publishers hang out, to get away from the teeming masses, so you could table-hop quite happily.

What else? Well, there was a band called Djaima, which we all found hilarious for two days, making jokes like "Djaima Monologues" and so on. When they actually came on, we (well, mostly me, because I have no shame) whooped and cheered and yelled, "Djaima!" and everyone around us looked bemused at our enthusiasm and then figured they must be a famous band to have such varied groupies.We did our part for the music scene that day.

Well, that was mostly Jaipur for me. I realise I haven't talked about the panels, but I always find READING about panels to be deathly boring as opposed to actually being there, so just imagine that I had a good time there too. The Kala Ghoda festival is next week and I'm really looking forward to that!

PS: For lovely and funny recaps of the ENTIRE festival, please check out this blog.