Well here it is again and I find myself scurrying around trying to find lost addresses and envelopes to send off my rakhis- (better late than never :)) My brother-in-law lazily received his this morning as he scratched his head and asked for cornflakes. I managed to nag him and my better half to send flowers to their sisters but (hint hint) no flowers for me- alas. I’ll content myself with his gift a few days ago- a portable plastic joint carrier- (shaped something like a capped test tube- now you can smoke half a joint and hide it in your purse for later on- very cool actually and after all, you can’t smoke flowers can you?
Anyway here’s a little history on the whole Rakhi thing-
A story is told of Alexander’s wife approaching his mighty Hindu adversary Porus and tying Raakhi on his hand, seeking assurance from him for saving the life of her husband on the battlefield. And the great Hindu king, in the true traditional Kshatriya (those who belonged to the brave warrior class) style, responded; and as the legend goes, when Porus raised his hand to deliver a mortal blow to Alexander, he saw the Raakhi on his own hand and restrained from striking.
More poignant instance is the story of the princess of a small Rajput (those who belong to the state of Rajasthan) clan. It glorified the spell that the Raakhi had cast even on people of alien faiths. The princess sent a Raakhi to the Moghul Emperor Humayun to save her honor from the onslaught of the Gujarat Sultan who seized her kingdom. The emperor, then engaged in an expedition against Bengal, turned back and hastened to the rescue of his Raakhi-sister. But, alas, to his utmost sorrow, he found that the kingdom had already been perished by the invador and the princess had committed ‘Jauhaar’, i.e., leaped into the burning flames to save her honor.
The Nobel laureate poet Rabindranath Tagore used the occasion of the Raksha Bandhan as a community festival to spread the nationalist spirit among people from different ethnic backgrounds.
Well, if you grew up in Delhi this has to come as a big blow. No more bumper cars. No more dragon roller coaster. No more room with the funny mirrors. No more cotton candy and popcorn and thumbs up. No more dangerous ferris wheels. No more spinning tea-cups. And most importantly, no more Bhoot Bangla, riding through the dark tunnel with all the shrieking bats and skeletons. sigh. Watching this clip actually brought tears to my eyes. This place had so much history. This was a landmark in the history of so many New Delhi childhoods. Sure- the rides were cheesy- and the junk food probably made you sick- but for a little kid getting led around by your parents with a hyperactive imagination running rampant- the place was like heaven- full of the thrill of new rides to test your little limbs on and to see how brave you could get yourself to be with adrenaline pumping through your little veins and a maniacal grin on your greedy little face. Can we ride that one again? Well, like Campa Cola Appu Ghar is going to be another one of those phantoms from a landscape that no longer exists…makes one feel prematurely old and nostalgic. I have heard they may rebuild it in a different part of the city or in Rajasthan, but they plan to dump all the vintage theme park gear and opt for more trendy rides. Lets see what happens…The times-they-are-a-changing- too fast for my liking. I’m not ready to think of my childhood as having existed “once-upon-a-time.” Oh and what about the hundreds of Appu Ghar employees who have worked there for their entire lives? One of these days not so far away we’re going to wake up in India and discover we’re living in one giant shopping mall/office building/courthouse/train station – And the rich of this country are in such a god damned hurry to get there, that once they arrive they’re going to realize we’ve lost all sense of where we’ve been. But everyone will have a nice shiny new car so who will really give a fuck if the landscape leads to nowhere.
Last Ride at Appu Ghar:
Anyway…here are a few last pictures…
Appu Ghar, the country’s first amusement park, was opened on November 19, 1984. It got its name from the ‘Appu’ the mascot of the 1982 Asian Games. Beginning with 10 rides, it graduated to 24.
NEW DELHI: Nostalgia was the theme on the last day at Appu Ghar as people queued up to enjoy one last ride in the speeding roller coaster, amazing giant wheel, swinging Colombus Ship, Eerie Tunnel and the ghoulish delights on offer at the “Bhoot Bangla”.
Inaugurated on November 19, 1984 by former Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi, Appu Ghar, named after “Appu”, the dancing baby elephant mascot of the 1982 games, was dubbed the first amusement park in the country. At the expiry of its lease, it is now making way for a section of the Supreme Court that will house a library, lawyers’ chambers and offices. A part of it will be used by the Delhi Metro Railway Corporation (DMRC) to extend its metro station at Pragati Maidan as ordered by the apex court.
After Chanakya cinema, Appu Ghar is another landmark in the city closing down to pave way for new infrastructure. Visitors, especially kids and youngsters are heartbroken at the very thought of bidding farewell to their favourite haunt.
”I can’t believe they are closing down Appu Ghar. It is really sad because this is my favourite place and I always love to freak out here with my family. Even today, I have come here to celebrate my birthday.” Puja Gautam, a manager in an export house said.
”First it was the Chanakya cinema and now Appu Ghar. These are the places we associate our childhood with. We have grown up in these places. They are a part of Delhi’s charm, its history,” she added.
Five-year-old Tanvi, who came to the park with her parents, was surprised to know that Appu Ghar will be closed forever. ”Why is it closing Papa? This is such an entertaining place. Ask them not to close it.” she said innocently holding a pink candyfloss stick in her hand.
Dhruv, a student of Holy Heart School at Vijay Nagar said, ”though I am coming here for the first time I really like the place. It should not be closed. I am enjoying all the rides here especially the Bhoot Bangla and if today is the last day I want to spend whole day here.”
The closure of the park was long in coming, ever since the lease of International Amusement Limited (IAL), under whose aegis Appu Ghar is running, expired in 1999. The company had got 14.74-acre land from India Trade Promotion Organisation (ITPO) way back in 1984 to run the park.
The park, which started with few rides such as “Bhoot Bangla” and bumping cars, gradually gained popularity across the country that it became imperative to have something similar in other cities.
Apart from the 250-odd-employees who will be losing their livelihood with the parks closure there are professionals from outside who will be seriously affected.
Sahil Bhatt of Patel Nagar is not an employee of Appu Ghar but he has been entertaining the crowd here from past one and a half year with his puppet show. ” I earn 1,000 to 1500 Rs daily by my puppet show. Now as the park is closing it will be a loss for me,” he said ruefully.
K Raj, a magician said,” I get Rs 400 per day for my magic show but from tomorrow I have to look for some other place.”
”There are about 300 employees in Appu Ghar – the people at the ticket counter, guards, those manning the rides. But nearly 1,000 people will be affected because the vendors here are dependent on Appu Ghar for their livelihood. What will we all do?” Ram Kumar, one of the guards at the entrance gate, said.
Nishant Misri, Assistant Manager at the Reebok outlet inside Appu Ghar said closure of this park will be a huge loss for them. ”With this outlet our income on week days is more than one lakh and on weekends it is between 30-40 thousand. Now, as we have to close this outlet we are offering a flat 50 per cent sale for clearing our stock.”
From the candyfloss being sold outside to the fearsome dragon rollercoaster to the swings of ‘My Fair Lady’, Appu Ghar forms part of fond memories for many a child and parent. Farewell, Appu Ghar.
oh and here…well you can’t really see what it looks like inside but you can hear the familiar clatter of the tracks and catch one last glimpse of the neon painted goblins on the last legs of the bhoot bangla ride….I wish this was a better clip or that I’d managed to get back to Delhi for one last ride…
WEll ROTD is officially, mind-numbingly, batter my head against a brick wall bored…and don’t go giving me that “only boring people get bored crap” because from the minute before and after I’m in this insipid landscape the world is a kaleidoscopic tunnel of brilliant insanity…
such is office life. So here’s a random list of things to do if you’re in need of some distraction from the insufferable torture of having nothing to do and still being confined to the inside of a hellish box of capitalist tedium…the best options I could find while attempting to browse my boredom away…
Bored things to do list…best options off the web (hey I’m bored…too bored to come up with stuff myself)
1. Stack items in cabinets so that they fall out on people when opened.
2. Move specific items to specific places everyday. (I.e. move the boss’ favorite pen from his desk to the floor every day if asked about it blame it on ghosts.)
3. See how many bathrooms you can defile in one day.
4. Make blow darts out of the plastic tips of your shoelaces a straight pin and a Bic pen.
5. Search e-Bay for illegal substances
6.Work on coming up with really good scams or practical jokes.
7. Go through people’s desks to see if you can find liquor in any of them. (drink what you find)
8. Digitally edit photos of monkeys to hold knives/swords
9. Create a fictional background of said photos including names and upbringings of said monkeys.
10. Create large scale fantastic delusions of grandeur.
11. Check for porn in the internet cache of people who leave their systems logged in.
12. Take revenge against people who you don’t like. For instance, tape an anchovy (or bombay duck) under their desk. Their office will smell like ass.
13.Try to make the longest paperclip chain, or largest rubber band ball.
14. Put a bootable Linux CD in your boss’ drive and watch him freak out the next morning.
15. Leave random voicemails for random people.
16.Come up with a plan of world domination.
17. Shoot down your own plans of world domination.
18. Try to find someplace where you can take a nap
19. Stick a thumb tack into the eraser on a pencil stand it on your desk, attempt to shoot rubber bands off of the ceiling and down around the pencil.
20. Super glue random objects together, use your imagination.
21. Change the speed dial on other peoples phones
22. Think about how fucked up you are going to get tonight.
23.Write a ridiculously long list of things to do while bored at work and post it online.
24. take an inane online quiz
25. Plan an ideal suicide.
26. blog.
from ubersite.com
October 22nd…a day famous for many events, including ours…
* 4004 BC – The universe is created. This is according to the 17th-century chronology of the history of the world formulated by James Ussher the Anglican Archbishop of Armagh.
* 362 – The temple of Apollo at Daphne, outside of Antioch, is destroyed in a mysterious fire.
* 794 – Emperor Kanmu relocates Japanese capital to Heiankyo (now Kyoto).
* 1383 – The 1383-1385 Crisis in Portugal: A period of civil war and disorder began when King Fernando died without a male heir to the Portuguese throne.
* 1575 – Foundation of Aguascalientes.
* 1692 – Last hanging for witchcraft in the United States.
* 1746 – The College of New Jersey (later renamed Princeton University) receives its charter.
* 1784 – Russia founds a colony on Kodiak Island, Alaska.
* 1797 – One thousand meters (3,200 feet) above Paris, André-Jacques Garnerin makes the first recorded parachute jump.
* 1836 – Sam Houston is inaugurated as the first President of the Republic of Texas.
* 1844 – The Great Anticipation: Millerites, followers of William Miller, anticipated the end of the world in conjunction with the Second Advent of Christ. The following day became known as the Great Disappointment.
* 1866 – Paraguay: Battle of Curupaytí against Brazil, Argentina and Uruguay.
* 1867 – Foundation of the National University of Colombia.
* 1875 – First telegraphic connection in Argentina.
* 1877 – The Blantyre mining disaster in Scotland kills 207 miners. Those widows and orphans who were unable to support themselves were evicted by the mine owners and likely sent to the Poor House.
* 1878 – The first rugby match under floodlights takes place in Salford, between Broughton and Swinton.
* 1883 – The Metropolitan Opera House in New York City opens with a performance of Gounod’s Faust (opera).
* 1895 – In Paris an express train overruns a buffer stop and crosses more than 30 metres of concourse before plummeting through a window at Gare Montparnasse.
* 1907 – Panic of 1907: A run on Knickerbocker Trust Company stock sets events in motion that will lead to a depression.
* 1910 – Dr. Crippen is convicted at the Old Bailey of poisoning his wife and was subsequently hanged at Pentonville Prison in London.
* 1919 – Doris Lessing, British writer, Nobel Prize laureate is born
* 1920 – Timothy Leary, American writer and professor is born (d. 1996)
* 1924 – Toastmasters International is founded.
* 1926 – J. Gordon Whitehead sucker punches magician Harry Houdini in the stomach in Montreal.
* 1934 – In East Liverpool, Ohio, notorious bank robber Pretty Boy Floyd is shot and killed by Federal Bureau of Investigation agents.
* 1935 – Establishment of the rank of Marshal of the Soviet Union.
* 1943 – World War II: Kassel: RAF conducts an air raid on the city of 236,000 people, killing 10,000, rendering 150,000 homeless. Second firestorm raid in Germany
* 1943 – Catherine Deneuve, French actress is born
* 1946 – Forty four British sailors die when two British warships hit mines off the coast of Albania.
* 1949 – Soviet Union detonates its first nuclear bomb.
* 1952 – Jeff Goldblum, American actor is born
* 1953 – Laos gains independence from France.
* 1956 – A concrete girder weighing 200 tons kills 48 in Karachi, Pakistan.
* 1957 – Vietnam War: First United States casualties in Vietnam.
* 1960 – Independence of Mali from France.
* 1962 – Cuban Missile Crisis: US President John F. Kennedy announces that American spy planes have discovered Soviet nuclear weapons in Cuba, and that he has ordered a naval “quarantine” of the island nation.
* 1964 – Jean-Paul Sartre is awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature, but turns down the honour.
* 1964 – Canada: A Multi-Party Parliamentary Committee selects the design which becomes the new official Flag of Canada.
* 1965 – End of the Second Kashmir War between India and Pakistan.
* 1966 – The Supremes become the first all-female music group to attain a No. 1 selling album (The Supremes A’ Go-Go).
* 1966: Double-agent breaks out of jail- One of Britain’s most notorious double-agents, George Blake, escapes from prison in a daring break-out believed to have been masterminded by the Soviet Union.
* 1968 – Apollo program: Apollo 7 safely splashes down in the Atlantic Ocean after orbiting the Earth 163 times.
* 1968 – Shaggy, Jamaican musician is born
* 1969 – Spike Jonze, American director and film producer is born
* 1970 – Tunku Abdul Rahman resign from Prime Minister of Malaysia.
* 1972 – Vietnam War: In Saigon, Henry Kissinger and South Vietnamese President Nguyen Van Thieu meet to discuss a proposed cease-fire that had been worked out between Americans and North Vietnamese in Paris. Thieu rejects the proposal and accused the United States of conspiring to undermine his regime
* 1976 – Red Dye No. 4 is banned by the US Food and Drug Administration after it is discovered that it causes tumors in the bladders of dogs. The dye is still used in Canada.
* 1981 – The United States Federal Labor Relations Authority votes to decertify the Professional Air Traffic Controllers Organization for its strike the previous August.
* 1981 – The founding congress of the Nepal Workers and Peasants Organisation faction led by Hareram Sharma and D.P. Singh begins.
* 1981 – The TGV railway service Paris-Lyon is inaugurated.
* 1983 – Two correctional officers are killed by inmates in Marion, Illinois. The incident inspired the Supermax model of prisons.
* 1986 – U.S. President Ronald Reagan signs the Tax Reform Act of 1986 into law.
* 1986 – WNBC traffic reporter Jane Dornacker is killed when the helicopter she is riding in stalls and crashes into the Hudson River.
* 1987 – John Adams’s opera Nixon in China debuts at the Houston Grand Opera in Houston, Texas.
* 1987 – The pinnacle rock “Gendarme” falls at Seneca Rocks.
* 1989 – Katie Eber Pope of the Church of Samuel L. Jackson of Latter-Day Snakes, and the world’s first cynical philanthropist born.
* 1991 – Dimitrios Arhondonis, metropolitan of Chalcedon elected 270th Archbishop of Constantinople, New Rome and Ecumenical Patriarch as Patriarch Bartholomew I of the Orthodox church.
* 1999 – Maurice Papon, an official in the Vichy France government during World War II, is jailed for crimes against humanity.
* 2000- Jewish Festival of Simchach Torah…we meet later this day…
* 2005 – Tropical Storm Alpha forms in the Atlantic Basin, making the 2005 Atlantic Hurricane Season the most active Atlantic hurricane season on record with 22 named storms.
* 2005 – Crash of Bellview Airlines Flight 210 in Nigeria kills all 117 on board.
* 2005 – The first phase of Transantiago, the new public transport system of Santiago de Chile is implemented.
* 2006 – A Panama Canal expansion proposal is approved by 77.8% of voters in a National referendum held in Panama.
* 2006 – Michael Schumacher drives his last Formula 1 Race. The very same day the Spaniard Fernando Alonso wins the 2006 Formula 1 World Championship, becoming the 8th and youngest driver to win it twice in a row to emulate the achievements of Mika Häkkinen, Michael Schumacher and five other drivers.
So I went to the closing party for an art exhibit in Bombay that was curated by a close friend of mine. The paintings had all been moved to the interior of a swanky night club, and the lighting was perfect…tables of stone floating between miniature rivers filled with rose petals…all the bohemians were out…flashing their butch hair cuts, their tribal hand bags, their 70’s beards, and the cameras flashed on cheshire-cat grins of hopeful artists and their cutting edge productions….in one painting there were some startling giant bananas painted with tiny dancing disembodied female legs….this was my favorite. It was priced way over my head but at least I got the brochure with mini photos inside. So all is going perfectly….wine is flowing….and so is the rather expensive beer…and its the right moment to grab someone who is a worse dancer than I am…and use them as a disguise while I jump around like a woman posessed…..hmmmm…..only one problem…..some idiotic fucker from France has been hired to play some gormet music….
it basically sounded like computers having surrepetitious abortions…only really really loudly. I said to the guy next to me…”how the hell am I supposed to dance to this music.” He raised an eyebrow. “Well its “minimal techno” darling” he tells me. I look at another Frenchman that seems like a nice guy. He’s absorbed by the sounds of the clunk clunk beep. I feel I must be getting old if this is really supposed to be the new “music.” Whatever. Enough beer and the computers sound like they are commiting suicide….another beer and I really don’t care…..me and my friends have resolved to jump up and down on the spot and another friend has gotten so drunk that he’s convinced he’s a Bolshevik and has been invented some kind of obsolete russian folk dance and is scaring all the nearby women away by clapping his hands at them and going “ahhhh”
I grab a gay friend of mine and twirl him around….all is well….all is good vibes….except….out of the corner of my eye I spy a little sleeeeaze…..He looks kind of like a wolf….only I actually like werewolves and this guy looks like the kind of werewolf that doesn’t want to bite anyone…he wants to hump everyone..more like a weasel……..his poofy 80’s haircut is bobbing up and down….I can’t tell if he is European or American…whoever he is…..he is looking around with an expression that worries me….because somehow the sound of computers having abortions has made him want to breed….
The evening draws to a close and I am, luckily not introduced to him….
The next day, bleary-eyed and hidden behind my shades I go to say goodbye to a friend who is leaving town…the one who curated the exhibit…Suddenly the weasel arrives… I am introduced to him…the weasel says in a swaggering voice “I never forget a pretty face.” I cross my fingers and display my wedding ring to its best advantage while he continues to ask me questions in that “DO YOU FANCY ME? WANNA FUCK?” sort of voice….ugh…soon he is asking me where to get a nice massage….I answer politely…but soon I gather that it isn’t “THAT KIND” of massage he is looking for. He is also considering visiting the Osho Ashram and has even called them up to enquire after their “orgies.” They told him they couldn’t promise anything. The evening progresses….he lingers in our little group….I am getting unnerved….I try not to be rude….he seems like he must be a kid….just out of his BA probably…. first time in India? ….yes…try to be nice to the little turd….. after a number of uncomfortable exchanges that are really too pathetic to mention, he caps off the evening by leaning over to my husband and asking him if “YOU HAVE ANY WOMEN FOR ME?”
He leaves, finally…..after trying to seduce me, enquire after orgies with Osho and places to get “massage” and of course inviting my husband to pimp some women for him. And the whole thing just left me with this irritated feeling that I had when I was in London studying and ran into some Indian lads, fresh off the boat for their degrees “abraaad”.
Anyway I know its completely typical but I find it really disgusting when horny little boys go travelling to foreign countries and treat all the native women like a garden of all-you-can-eat “I love you long time” desperate deep-throating tarts…
During my first week in London my husband (then fiance) had taken me to some university pot luck where he came accross another Punju who leaned over slyly, oggling all the white chicks, and spat “oye…gori patayi?” And when white boys come looking for a piece of ass in India they have the same expression. Testosterone poisoning turns boys into semen zombies…..I mean, what the hell is wrong with these guys? If they can’t get laid in their own countries (East and West) why do they think the female species is suddenly going to part their legs in a foreign country?
In the end, the fantasy of the exotic foreign punani is not what it appears to be. These guys aren’t really looking for women…they are trying desperately to reimagine themselves as potent sexual beings, which they obviously are not in their own countries. They are trying, in the sleaziest way possible, to “find” themselves, that is- to create a myth of debauchery and “hard core” experience for themselves. The real problem for these insects is that in their own countries there is social accountability, which, for all our post-feminist rhetoric, means that yes— there are men who will find it uncool in your own community if you start treating their women friends, sisters, girlfriends like sidewalk hookers. But hey— in other countries, among other ethnicities and even classes….women are fair game…this kind of attitude belies the fact that these are the kinds of men who respect women only through virtue of the fact that they are property of/ or protected by male social codes that deny random jerks access to them. In their own country a male gaze follows them, a gaze that censures, a gaze they accept as legitimate prohibition, a gaze that they imagine will not follow them to foreign locales.
THe moment they arrive in a foreign country their eyes grow wide and hungry….centuries of “rape and pillage” programing stirs in their cosmopolitan DNA….They go out and have brief, unsatisfying sexual encounters with women who they often do not even like very much….still…they have to….so that they can have that brief, even more satisfying, post-coital ciggarette and make a phone call “back home” to report….”hey bro……I just screwed a russian…” This is the moment where the hunt becomes worth while….where the young tribesman reports back to just one or two members of his clan that yes, he, has tasted the forbidden fruit, has marked himself a real man, and will safely be able to reconcile himself years later to a life of unhappy sexless marriage with the knowlege that one day, while sipping his scotch whisky, he might reminisce with his geriatric comrades about a foolhardy youth full of booze, prostitues, and minimal techno.
Here’s some minimal techno for ya. If you like it you are a sad little monkey. Ok it might sound good if Yoko ono were using it for some avante garde art installation involving albino bats and hanging forks but in a night club…its absurd. Besides if the French like it…well…you know the French… 🙂
Listen guys, right now lets pool our efforts and help spread information about what is happening right now in Burma. The Indian government is acting slimy and is more concerned right now about protecting its oil interests in Burma than about all the people protesting peacefully in the streets who are getting murdered because they were inspired by how Indians won their independence. They’re our neighbors and they are screwed. We need to spread the word. They have shut down the Burmese internet connection so we need to do all we can to make sure information is spreading about these human atrocities. Go to Sacredmediacow, the Southasian media collective based out of SOAS, University of London, where updates are being pooled and posted. Please send any new information and links to angad dot chowdhry @ gmail dot com
A revolution is happening. Those who actually give a shit should get involved.
Here’s a bit of BBC footage of the beginning of the protest:
So I’m walking to work today from the train station and it starts to rain. Of course I forgot my umbrella. So I put one hand over my eyes so that my mascara wont come dripping down my cheeks like Courtney Love. I’m walking along, by the side of the highway, muttering “whatever” to the raindrops accepting the fact that I’m going to look like Swamp Thing by the time I get to the office. Suddenly the raindrops stop. “Huh?” I look up and there’s an umbrella covering me. Apparently chivalry is not dead; this knight in shining armour, clean shaven with a gleaming smile in a clean tucked in white shirt has suddenly covered me with his big umbrella. I’m like “uh…hey, thanks”. I eye him suspiciously but he looks like a nice “up-standing” member of society. And it really was pouring down. I kept my distance but truthfully, when a guy does something old fashioned like offer you his umbrella during a rain storm, you almost want to believe there’s no hidden agenda. He’s being polite. Keeping a formal distance and I’m thinking to myself “maybe he’s not a complete creep.” In any case the rain is likely to stop any second. And its possible he’s just being a good Samaritan. I shouldn’t tell him to bugger off just yet.
So I quicken my pace and attempt to ignore him- but he’s not giving up- and he’s yammering on like a nervous kid, talking about his sister who’s in advertising and how he’s a manager for a telephone sales company and how he’s also an event manager and he’s just bumbling on an on, chasing me with this massive umbrella. Then with a sudden grin he extends his right hand in an attempt to shake mine and says the fateful words I have heard so many many many times before,“So? Can I make a FRIENDSHIP with you?” Ugh. I do not shake his hand. Goodness only knows what he’s been doing with it. This guy wants to make something and its definitely not a “friendship.” I mutter impatiently, “uh…” and I show him my wedding finger, “I’m married.” He’s asks “to who?” to which I rather sardonically retort, “to my husband.” And get this- he says with vocal inflection, “WHERE” is “HE?” I raise an eyebrow, thinking to myself “Nice one. Serves you right for hitching a ride under some random umbrella. Now ditch this guy before he tries to convince you to check into a sleazy motel on the pretext of introducing you to his “other sister,” the one who does circus tricks naked.
For a moment there I thought that I was experiencing some anachronistic gallantry. But I have to hand it to the guy; it took guts to use a line that’s been used more often than a shanghai masseuse- and using an umbrella as a prop. Nice touch. And you know, I have nothing against creativity. There’s a whole artform attached to good pick up lines. How about my classic favorite, “If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?” The ever tasteful, “Baby if you were a booger I’d have picked you first,” and “Fuck me if I’m wrong, but haven’t we met before?” I think I’d actually pay for some guy’s drink just to listen to a string of these classics. But if I hear the “be my friend?” line one more time…I’m going to…well, there’s no doubting I’m going to hear it again. Old is gold. And so is the creepy technique of disguising a come-on in a chivalrous gesture with pretences at brotherly sentiment.
He can tell I’m trying to get away from him so he says he only asked me to be his “friend” because he could be in some way “useful” in managing some kind of random P.R. event for me or something. He’s really casting about in desperation at this point, looking for something clever to say, having realized his “be my friend” line has failed. A light bulb flashes above his head. A stroke of genius. “Are you on orkut?” he asks me, with a worryingly excitable gleam in his eye, “ You can make lots of FRIENDS there.” The rain has stopped and his unfoldable umbrella wilts back to its usual size. I am beginning to walk away. He whines suddenly, “But don’t you want to make a friendship?” I’m feeling kind of sorry for him actually. “No.” I half smile, “ But thanks for the umbrella.” I walk off making a mental note to buy a new umbrella and possibly a rain jacket with the words “I’m not on orkut and I don’t want to be your friend.” printed on it.
For some strange reason, Rakhi is one of the few festivals that I try not to dismiss off hand as being another opportunity for greeting card and cell phone companies to cash in on nauseating mass-sentimentalism. Like a vegetarian who eats a portion of fish once a year (for health reasons) I try to put aside my “bah-humbug” attitude for at least one incremental day of the year. Cuz in our extended little clan of bros…these guys are like characters that just popped out of strange chapters of dusty books and they are truly mad and like Kerouak:
The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes “Awww!
and now for a gratuitous song and dance number…by the biggest rakhi one could hope to tie around a boy…. Rakhi Sawant. Dancing in a harem. Happy Rakhi guys. lol:
lol. I just found out a close friend of mine wants ME to be a rakhi “brother” and is going to tie a rakhi on me today. To make matters more interesting; my rakhi sister is a guy. That’s pretty cool. I always wanted to have a sister. Just never realized she was going to be a guy. lol. 🙂 click here for next year’s Rakhi post.
On my way to another job interview. What is it with the nerves in my stomach? They never fail. I call up my Mr. and he tells me to breathe. Yes. Note to self. Must remember to breathe. breathing in. breathing out. breathe. air. (cough cough). ok I think I may be getting the hang of it. sigh. breathe.
Gutting through the last of one of those annoying Mondays? I am, anyway. Working towards a deadline and suddenly am very tired and with the rest of the week’s tasks ahead the finish line seems even further away. The weekend just seemed to slip through my fingers this time around, and I’m tired and cranky but still doing what needs to be done. Looked up Monday hatred on the net and found out that there’s a study that suggests a way to improve your crappy Mondays is to NOT sleep in on Saturday and Sunday. Apparently it screws up your body clock. RIIIIGHHT. Isn’t that just perfect. So you can either improve Mondays by not staying up late on weekends and sleeping in and enjoying a nice long dreamy sleep…or you can have nice weekends and have an awful start to the week. I’m still taking the latter. Studies like these are conducted by boring people to convince their friends that being boring is cool. I’m sticking with sleep deprivation and Monday angst. Hey- at least I have the weekend to look forward to. Here’s a cheesy little number by the Bangles about Monday hatred. Enjoy:
Manic Monday:
here’s that Monday scientific study thingy…
Scientists have discovered a cure for the dreaded Monday morning blues – stop sleeping in on weekends.A new study has found that lazy Saturday and Sunday lie-ins can disturb your body clock, leaving you fatigued at the start of the week.Flinders University sleep expert Leon Lack said people often used the weekend to catch up on sleep lost during the week.But he told the Australasian Sleep Association Conference in Perth that while this might help pay off a “sleep debt”, it came at a cost.
“We’ve discovered that these sleep-ins are actually putting your body out of whack enough to change your Sunday night bedtime and set you up for Monday blues,” Professor Lack told AAP.
His research team tested the theory by tracking 16 people over a weekend, asking them to go to bed a little later than they would on a weeknight but sleeping-in an extra two hours.By comparing saliva samples and hormone tests he found participants’ body clocks had been delayed by 45 minutes.”That might not sound like a lot but it means that you’re not quite as sleepy on Sunday night at the normal bedtime and you’ll be much sleepier the next day,” Prof Lack said.Questionnaires completed on Monday and Tuesday showed much higher levels of self-reported fatigue and tiredness compared with pre sleep in days.This was because the subjects’ circadian rhythms – which determine patterns of alertness and tiredness – had been disturbed, creating an effect similar to jet lag.By mid-week most people manage to get back on track but then they start staying up later, getting into “debt” once again and perpetuating the cycle.
“These days, we’re pushing ourselves a lot, particularly during the week and the weekend is our only refuge,” Prof Lack said.The problem, he says, is that this comes at a price.”It’s a bit like paying off a mortgage – you take out a big one and you’ll have a lot to pay off later on.”
I just returned from the dark catacombs of Dr. Frankenstein’s laboratory…a mad inventor of strange futuristic monsters welcomed me and my better half in a white cotton kurta, in the dim shadows of his house. While we sat and spoke of plans and pasts, projects and premonitions, he fed us mutton pulav and phirni of an intense flavor that caused extreme delight. Our voices, slurred by concoctions of rum and other beverages served in haphazard glasses, echoed sullenly in a house which, to my mind, began to seem more like the contents of his head, than an actual place.
image from link
This was the real Dexter’s Laboratory…the one full of mathematical charts and plans to take the world by storm. He (DJ Fadereu) was working frenetically, tinkering away at his latest invention; a game that makes use of cell phones. As he has not yet publically launched the details of his project I can only post this as a teaser for things to come. Rest assured that more information will follow. What has been made public can be found at algomantra and sacredmediacow. Now I am home and it seems like I’ve just popped out of one of those “Back to the future films”…when you visit someone for tea on the front porch of their subjectivity…you emerge feeling like your sense of time has gone for a spin…your clock stops. Time to reset. I’ll look forward to the fruition of this curious experiment when I join Dr Frankenstein and his cellular monster on the day that he hits the juice and the electric current of his devious plan is activated.
image from link
Its late some time on Friday night/Saturday morning and I’m not out guzzling beers with friends (save that for Saturday). My man has returned home after a long hard day’s work and after consuming sustenance has promptly collapsed into a deep sleep. “You couldn’t possibly understand this kind of tiredness” he says to me, and he’s right because the work I do is free lance which means I make my own hours most of the time. Thank god!
There used to be a time when both of us were vampires…our eyes unaccustomed to the sunlight, our body clocks ticking into the wee hours of the morning…getting much work done till four am, possibly watching early morning television before dissolving into slumber…and waking up just in time for a late lunch. Naturally, every other member of the working world, including our families, found this kind of behavior disgusting and irresponsible. “Its just not done” came the refrain…and “How will you hold a real job?” came another…and while what they were saying was not without a grain of truth it neglects the fact that there are some people for whom night time is the most creative and gorgeous time to be alive and doing things.
A popular misconception is that people who stay up late are only doing so to party or pursue other leisure activities. Most day-time people get their work done in the first part of the day and when work is over, immediately flick a mental switch that means they are chilling till bedtime. On the contrary, while I’ve had many a night filled with wine and revelry…there have been tons of times since early on in highschool where I have stayed up most of the night completing assignments, working on visual art or generating new ideas for future projects. At a certain time past the witching hour of midnight…unexpectedly the mind begins to sparkle and a sudden clarity lands upon whatever it is I am doing. It often seems worth it to stay awake, even when I have an early start, just to catch hold of those few fleeting moments when life and whatever I’m focusing on at the moment- makes most sense. Why is this? I couldn’t tell you. Perhaps it is because when most of the world is asleep there are less distractions. Whenever I have been awake and walking outside at nocturnal hours the light the yellow street lamps cast on the tar and the shadows they create through the trees always makes me feel full of jazz and energy to just “do” something new.
New characters come to mind, old songs, and words I have to capture and write down before they flutter away. I first got to know the tired husband sleeping next to me on one such a night when, while our friends were ready to pay the check and drive home, we wandered off chatting endlessly, walking on the naked streets of the early morning, searching for good breakfast menus and becoming ever more animated as the hours ticked on. It was twelve noon the next day when sleep suddenly hit us like a thunderbolt of vivid daylight. And since that time we’ve continued to do our best bouts of brainstorming on those rare allnighters that come our way. Unfortunately for him, he’s got a nine to five job which actually stretches to about seven, so his nocturnal tendencies have come to a sudden and unceremonious halt. I’m trying to whack the night owl out of my head but so far I’m still straining to be up as late as I can without ruining the next day. I think for most people with normal jobs in Bombay, a full night’s sleep is a rare luxury. Ironically, I’m one of the lucky few who could sleep the night through but doesn’t want to. Here are some Night People quotes from a website dedicated to our kind.
Common Misconceptions about Night People:
“We’re insomniacs.”
No way. We aren’t trying to get to sleep.
(I’m going to have to disagree there. I’m a night person who regularly tries to get to sleep and has difficulty. But I enjoy the struggle.)
“We’re unhappy.”
Only when we’re not allowed to follow our natural schedule.
(how true how true. The worst thing is when there have been times I’ve been living with morning people who get annoyed with you if you follow your own schedule and annoyed that you aren’t functioning properly if you try to follow theirs)
“We have a medical problem.”
We’re as healthy as most, and more than some. For instance, you won’t find us getting skin cancer from too much sunbathing.
(ahem. well. Its not a medical problem but it can lead to one if you don’t get ANY sunlight. You need that vitamin D to keep your skin looking well and also lack of sunlight can disrupt melatonin levels causing mood fluctuations. So we night creatures have to be careful to emerge from our coffins once in a while. At one point my skin was so pale that people started regularly asking me if I was ill. I had to say “nope…that’s me just being…erm…normal”)
We’re wierd.
Who’s calling who wierd?
(ahem. what’s wrong with being weird?)
The Bozo Boss Misconception: “We’re lazy, dishonest, and trying to fool everyone because we want credit for working at night but we don’t actually do it.”
This is an evil misconception. It doesn’t just show a lack of respect for our natural body rhythms, it says we’re liars, frauds… Employers always seem to feel this way, even when we’re doing the kind of work that can be measured somehow. All I can say to these people is: Have you ever observed a Night Person at work during his or her peak time? After you’ve sat up with one of us and seen how productive we are, say that again.
(completely. You’d have to be a night person to really get how annoying it is to be written off as a “LOAFER”. as an evil aunty I once knew used to say…”what u doing? Loafing?” My man finished writing his entire phd in a matter of just a few months by working his ass off at wee hours of the morning. I saw it. I bear testament to the powers of the 4:00 am workaholic.)
“We think we’re vampires or have some other kind of odd self image.”
Do you think you’re the sun god Amon-Ra just because you’re a Day Person?
(oye. you got a problem with weirdos and vampires? Don’t try to naturalize night people by taking digs at us monster types. I’m a reincarnation of vampira. )
“We’re criminals who use the excuse of staying up late to cover our crimes.”
Sure, and all the people who are up in the daytime are law-abiding citizens. Crimes are ONLY committed at night.
(thas right. I commit crimes round the clock. no fair.)
“We’re hooked on caffeine.”
It doesn’t take coffee and coke to keep US up!
(Nopes…I ain’t hooked on that there caffiene. SLURP. ZING!)
“The only reason we stay up late is to go to bars, cavort, and party.”
Sure, we like it as much as the next guy, but don’t blame us just because we’re always the last to leave!
(in vino veritas)
“We’re delinquents and degenerates.”
How do you know? Do you follow delinquents and degenerates around at night? If you do, what’s YOUR problem?
(again with the mud slinging. Leave the weirdos, vampires and degenerates out of this. They’re allowed to be night people too. And never you mind who I follow around all night. The restraining order said to keep 200 yards away but they never said anything about video surveillance. Freaking biggot!)
Night Quotes:
“Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.”
— Edgar Allan Poe
“Night time is really the best time to work. All the ideas are there to be yours because everyone else is asleep.”
— Catherine O’Hara
“I’m kinda tired. I was up all night trying to round off infinity. Then I got bored and went out and painted passing lines on curved roads.”
— Stephen Wright
“Larks see owls as lazy; owls see larks as party poopers.”
— Richard Coleman, Wide Awake at 3 am
“What hath night to do with sleep?”
— John Milton
“I read, much of the night, and go south in winter.”
— T.S. Eliot
“12:35 P.M. — The phone rings. I am not amused. This is not my favorite way to wake up.”
— Fran Lebowitz
“The night draws stars and women in a better light.”
— George Gordon, Lord Byron
“I do believe in reincarnation, but I do not believe there is life before noon.”
— Florence King
Anyway it is time to sleep and I have Promises to keep. And miles to go before I sleep.
Things are totally flooded up North. People are literally swimming in the streets. Or sitting in arm chairs up to their necks. We were staying in Wadala for a few days and got caught in the first rain storm…our ginormous umbrella got blown inside out and we were completely soaked and covered with mud and leaves by the time we got home. It was actually really fun…though probably not something you’d want to have to deal with every day on your way to work. Luckily we bought stronger umbrellas and found a place in South Bombay which is, at worst, a little muddy.
I guess when you live in a city for long enough, things like rain and mud can get irritating…and there are a lot of complaints going around about leaky roofs and not wanting to step out, etc. But I guess I’ve lived in this city for just long enough at one point to have been able to fall in love with its eccentricities and not let familiarity breed contempt. Now I’m back and I’m not leaving. Here are some of the discoveries from the first week back:
Colaba Cats…
1) My old drycleaner has a one-eyed pirate cat and two other ones that lounge around on his counter-top to avoid getting wet. I think he was sort of gratified that I found his Cyclops cat so cute because I would imagine some customers would have gotten a little freaked out. In this particular area of Bombay in Colaba you probably find one of the highest concentrations of cat-lovers…I’m not exactly sure why but, though most Indians don’t like cats and find them somehow evil and scary, this area, full of Parsi and Muslim families tends to have a cat on every corner, a cat mascot for just about every out-door shop, cats scrounging around the kebab shop and cats peeking out of high windows sneering at the rain.
images from here and here
Bad Good Bombay Films…
2) I saw a really crap film. No reaaally. This one was crap…but not really bad enough to be good. It was called “Awarapan” and it starred “Emraan Hashmi” who kind of specializes in Zoolander expressions with small digressions into looking like a lovelorn Romeo, Devdas style… the film was sort of like more of a romance between a man and his….god…I mean it was about this gangster who gets attracted to Muslim chicks who pray a lot…and I guess the director was trying to create this sort of islamic guilt experience kind of similar to Italian gangster catholic guilt…but the story was just all over the place and so was the acting…the highlight of it was where this villain gangster character screams “my name is Prince! And I am funky!” just before he dies.
The Fly Assassin…
3) so with the monsoon there are a lot of flies. And someone has managed to capitalize on the little sadist in everyone by designing a badminton racket that you can use to electrocute the flies. I was sitting in a Chinese noodle bar and this waiter was jumping around whacking those things! It was kind of a disgusting sound to hear those flies pop and zizzle while my noodles were getting fried and zizzled in the kitchen…kind of lost my appetite…but the disturbing thing is that it kind of looked fun…
Psycho killer Phone dealer
4) Ok so I’m at the local phone dealer, sitting in a posh shop surrounded by geeks in nice shirts when suddenly I notice that the innocent looking geek who is explaining my phone plan to me has very strange hands…now I’ve seen a lot of guys here and there over the years who thought it was cool to grow one long pinky finger-nail…but this guy had an entire hand full of claws! And just before I was about to give this guy my home address and phone number I looked up I realized I was standing next to the cannibal killer psycho geek from Sin City (played by Elijah Wood). His hid his claws behind the desk and licked his lips. I backed away from the counter very slowly, and told him he could “eat me…errr…I mean…meet me later when I get the rest of my paperwork.”
A lost chappal, some sandy traces, Old bollywood film clips and posters, bits of music from here and there, uncanny adds, late night beer-guzzling stupidities, bad movies that made you spit out your popcorn and “never again” all-nighters writing pointless essays and/or drinking strange concoctions that make you have strange dreams about evil ponies, snakes with fur and ronald mcdonald babies…Remains of the Desi is shifting headquarters from Chandigarh to Bombay and I’m managing it from a cyber cafe in Lunavla right now…more guest writer posts are lining up but in the mean time I’m posting stuff that relates directly to why this blog was started in the first place. The “remains” part “of the desi” is to do with all those little traces, objects, memories and comments that, when we return to them, become a sort of popcultural history through which some of us remember who we were…why we were that way…and what made us laugh.
Remember this weird Desi McDonald’s add? That child looks evil. Although he might taste good deep fried, inside a maharaja mac covered with ketchup…mmm…I’m loving “It” (looks like the spawn of that evil clown played by Tim Curry in “It”.)
Image from weird
But there are just too many of these remains for me to be able to remember them all…and the same goes for some of the guest writers at ROTD….and especially because a lot of the people writing for ROTD have been living in different cities and countries…it sort of turned into a common room where we can all check in, have a laugh (and perhaps a smoke) and have a quick connect. Some of my closest friends are in different countries and I don’t see many of them for six months or a year at a time. So this sort of becomes a kind of “passing dirty notes in class” in cyberspace as well. Anyway, thinking of friends…this year has been one of the biggest upside down WTF years of our lives as we’ve been following the endless yellow brick road to the emerald city of Bombay…..….but one of the best parts of going through a difficult year is that it really lets you know who your friends are....and those crazy buggers just creep out of the woodwork and surprise you in ways that make you want to buy them their own private islands and life-time supplies of beer. So here’s a little number for you guys by Joe Cocker- “Live at Woodstock 1969” and definitely one of the best “Growing up/getting Fucked up/Figuring shit out/Finding out who your real Friends are” sort of anthems I know of…its a cover of a beatles song but sounds much better and looks much better with shaggy Joe Cocker (looks like someone fed him some Scooby snacks) singing it playing air guitar while Jimmy Page (my fav. guitarist who I once bumped into randomly in a London Coffee shop) plays a killer guitar intro…those were the days when having an epileptic fit on stage looked fascinatingly cool…
remains of the desi 
