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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19 May 2005
I'm a bitch, I'm a tease, I'm a goddess on my knees
>Aargh, aargh. WHEN did the transparent shirt for guys make a comeback? I counted three whole grown-up people, people who should really know better, in transparent shirts. One tonight at TC was wearing (wait for it) a transparent WHITE shirt, with embossed FLOWERS and a set of black strings around his neck. And sitting at the Cafe Coffee Day (CCD to its admirers) in Saket, I saw a girl in a shiny metallic silver top with little sequin thingies around the bottom. God. Is it like being colour blind, having a bad dress sense?
> Here's another thing that I wonder about. Why do people who come from abroad to India briefly for a holiday get so chatty? I've heard loads of bullshit about "Oh you Indians are so warm and friendly!" Warm and friendly, my ass. Most of the time, if you're a firang and you're going on and on and on about the beautiful culture and the lovely people, we're thinking "Chutiyas"*. Or maybe that's just me being uncharitable. Maybe I should be warmer and friendlier.
* If you didn't understand that, trust me, you don't want to know.
> Since for the past few days I've been having an Abhijeet Sawant overdose, I've begun seeing him everywhere. No seriously. I'm driving, and I see him in the next car. I'm window shopping and bam! there he is loitering with his friends. I'm at TC and I see at least five of him, scattered all over the place. And each time I hold my breath, waiting to see if he acts like someone famous, so I can be scornful.
> Ex-New Boy propositioned me today. So blatantly also. "My friend's going out of town and he's given me the keys to his place." I was on the phone with him and narrowly missed having an accident because I was rolling my eyes so much. "Um.. p'raps not, " I told him. "Why?" he asked. Why? WHY? Because your mother's a psycho freak, that's why. Because I'm just not interested, that's why. But I didn't say that. I said merely, "I'm not looking for random sex, thanks all the same." I'm such a chicken.
> And then there are the boys who hit on you, only they're not hitting on you, they're hitting on your profession. They're chatting you up, everything's hunky-dory and you're all flutter-eyed and coy and then, "Hey, you know, I have a restaurant and it's really nice and you should really cover it in your newspaper." Yeah, buddy, get in line. And get a new line while you're at it.
> Yeah, I just needed to get all that bitchiness out of my system. This weather has me all out-of-sorts. Today Iggy and I met many exes and as soon as we smiled and said hello, we turned to each other and made huge "L" signs. Hypocrites, totally, but it felt so good. I've been so angelic for so long, I feel it's time for some bad behaviour. It's like indulgence, like chocolate or tequila, this badness, this bitching inside my head and it amuses me. And I enjoy being amused.