Saturday, March 29, 2008

Lurve's Strict Vetting Process

So, I laughed myself silly over this NYT article titled It's not you, it's your books ( It took me back to the good old days (sigh) when I was playing the dating game too. There was this guy who was hotter* (in the looks dept.) than an active volcano. Gosh, he really smouldered. On the first date, he said we'd have a small drink at home and then pop out to a restaurant. Cool so far? I ring his doorbell and he answers it with a copy of Ayn Rand (The Fountainhead, I think it was) in one hand-hey, can you get more obvious than that? Ew! Ew! Ew! My first instinct was to run, but I was way too stunned to think up excuses like, 'Oops sorry, gotta go, forgot to feed the hamster.' There was, needless to say, no second date. I couldn't even bring myself to talk on the phone with Mr. So F***ing Pretentious anymore!

*Truth be told, he was the hottest living man I've ever had the fortune to meet! Too bad about his taste in books, though. It could never have been. Not for me.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

The most intelligent comment on the Scarlett Keeling case

Hats off to Brinda Karat for this scathing piece in TOI- my sentiments exactly!
LEADER ARTICLE: Don't Punish The Victim
It's a free for all out there, isn't it? And now Mumbai cabbies have taken to kissing passengers too! And hello, no mistletoe dangling from the rear-view mirror either. Holy shit!

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Omigod, I've turned into an Obama groupie!

I heard his speech on race (CNN) just now and was riveted! Couldn't tear myself away from the TV for even a second to refuel on post-dinner chocolates! Time flew, I only realised at the end of it all that I was half an hour older- hey, at my age, every second is precious. Of course, as a patriotic Indian, I flinched when he made references to outsourcing (yeah, the Democrats officially resent being Bangalored), but still. He's my rock star of the month, really he is.
Oh, and his song is sort of a Lennon cover- Imagine. But fiery, not wistful.

Friday, March 14, 2008

Bring me my broadsword!

Waves of nostalgia aren't just sweeping over me, they're whirling me away- am as helpless as Dorothy (Wiz of Oz). And guess where I've been planted- in bloody medieval times, that's where! Want to read TH White's The Once and Future King again (wierd, considering that I just re-read it last year) and listen to Jethro Tull's Broadsword and the Beast. So, that album has been running on a loop since last evening. Ooh, I love the grand, epic swells, the occassional war-weariness, the everything!!!!! For me this album is as brill as Thick as a Brick and Aqualung- no matter what the critics say. It gives me much more than great music and lyrics, it paints the most amazing pictures in my head. I must, I must, I must replace my old fave tapes with CDs.

A slice of life

I was thinking about this tired old saying yesterday- when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Not me, I would rather make tequila shots. Haven't had them in years though, so things are okay. Normal and dull, actually make that very, very, very dull. If it wasn't for our politicians, I may have died of boredom. TOI told us that the MNS chaps are yearning to get hawkish with hawkers since most of them are North Indians, but they're holding back while the SSC exams are on- hello, their beloved leader's son is cramming for the exams too! So considerate of them, innit? At least they care for someone. I do hope the young lad does marvellously well in all his future exams and gets a fabulous job in UP or Bihar. That way, his daddy can learn valuable lessons too.
And while on the subject of sons, Rahul Gandhi is making wonderfully naive statements, and a lot of us are brushing tears away and sighing, 'So like his daddy, isn't he?' My advice to him is, be like mummy- she knows best!

Sunday, March 9, 2008

And this is for all you women out there

So, DNA asked me to write an article for International Women's Day and I spent quite a while wondering how I should play it. Should I rave and rant over serious issues (and there are many) or celebrate the advances we've made? I browsed through the official IWD website. Celebrate, it said! Go on, celebrate, don't be a tight-arse (well, not that phrase exactly)! So that's what I did. The article has been published already, so I'm free to paste it below. Here goes:
International Spare Ribs Fest
I’m beginning to feel sorry for men, really I am. Women are so much better off, aren’t we- we’ve got one full day a year dedicated to us, hooray! Time to bring out the pink bubbly and listen to Cindy Lauper’s frothy Girls Just Wanna Have Fun till our ears bleed. Amy Winehouse’s smoky Back to Black is for later, when we’re all fabulously pickled and maudlin and muttering darkly about the Great Indian Bustard. Hey, it’s a bird, no offence meant to anyone, promise.

Of course, after all those years of oppression and injustice, we do have darn good reasons for a knees-up, and more important, an occasion to remind ourselves that the fight must go on till every man in the world is mentally liberated enough to regard women as equals. I’m not just talking about cave men relics in Afghanistan, but (gasp) America too. Recently, while on the campaign trail, a couple of hecklers shouted, ‘Hillary, iron my shirt!’ Mrs. Clinton refused to oblige and batted them off politely, but me, I’d have cheerfully hollered, ‘Sure hon, while it’s on your back!’ Maybe because I’m a warmer, friendlier person.

Still, we’ve come a long way. Unlike our primitive ancestors we don’t have to spend our lives ducking and hiding from men whose idea of fun was to drag us by our tresses to deserted caves. Gosh, no wonder those poor women had worse hairdos than pop stars in the Eighties. These days, with date rape drugs and what not, the process is much tidier, and so much more civilised, innit? Modern science, wow! Also, with so many cricket matches on TV these days, where can men find the time to bring us to rack and ruin? During commercial breaks?

And, joy, we don’t spend all our time barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen anymore, oh no. We’re free, gloriously free, to go to work and bring home the bacon. No big deal if we have to spend a couple of hours cooking it too. But be careful, accidents do happen in the cooking arena, so please do not be in the kitchen at the same time as your mother-in-law - particularly if she’s been talking wistfully about a new car. Look, I’m just saying.

But on to more cheerful things. Today, women have broken through most of the traditional male bastions, yay! (Note to self: check if the BMC hires female rat-catchers). Okay, so we’re not paid the same salaries for the same jobs, but that’s only because men are a bit slow –the precious darlings still believe that they are solely responsible for bringing freshly slaughtered Woolly Mammoths home for the family’s sustenance. Women are not seen as natural born providers, they would just squander their salaries on something silly like shoes, and you can’t eat those, not even doused in ketchup or accompanied with grandma’s sexy mango pickle, can you?

But, by far the most important reason to celebrate Women’s Day, is pants. Not just the fact that we wear them metaphorically, but literally too. For centuries, many cultures deliberately handicapped women’s movements by imposing a dress code on them that was only fit for one-legged critters or mermaids. Come on, how fast can you flee from predatory men in an ankle-length sheathe that binds your legs together? And really, how comfortable is it to sit side-saddle on a horse or a bike? I say this with deep feeling because of a sepia-tinged photograph in our family album. Picture this: the pyramids of Giza in the background, my grandparents on camel-back in the foreground. Guess which one of them is not smiling in a carefree manner- go on!

So yeah, all things considered, some of us are doing fine. A few bumps on the head from that blasted glass ceiling, but even so. Right, here’s to the sistah-hood, and may our powers increase!

Saturday, March 8, 2008

saltwaterblues, I lurve yous (making it rhyme, boss!)

So I'm spending some quality time this afternoon on listening to great music.
Yes, there's music on his blog! He has a fabulously eclectic collection- Suzanne Vega, Carly Simon and America, to name a few. And his writing is cool too. This is fun!

Sunday, March 2, 2008

Spy vs Spy or Mickey Mouse?

Saw The Lives Of Others yesterday. Marvellous. Best movie I've seen in years- it made Hollywood fare seem loud and theatrical in comparison. I loved the restraint so much, that I even forgave the token schmaltz at the end. Heck, who doesn't like happy endings?

I'm not saying this is going to happen, BUT, you may find me sheepishly sneaking in to International film fests to watch edgy movies with subtitles. This is an image I've always shied away from, I'm frightened of being mistaken for a terribly earnest pseud thirstily absorbing culture. Come on, we all have our deepest, darkest fears! Maybe I'll wear dark glasses and an overcoat, like Don Martin's Spy vs Spy protagonists. Or should I startle the pseuds by wearing a Mickey Mouse mask?