Thursday

Is there something you truly regret?

A friend asked me this after my lecture to him after hearing ‘some of his issues’. I said to regret having done something that you thought right at the time is an utter waste. I mean, it’s the present that matters right? As long as its not something really dreadful…
I said no.
“Not even your fistifights in college?”. Yea, hes a college friend.
No I’d enjoyed all those.
Well, I do feel bad about my fights with mum and friends. I’d regret it later too. But that never stopped me from repeating, so my regret was kind of semi-thingy.

Then for no reason at all my mind flew to my NCC Days. For those who don’t know it is National Cadet Corps.  

I always enjoyed my NCC Camps. Even though we had to get up at 5, stand in queue in front of the few bathrooms, put on PT clothes, assemble for roll call at 5:45 and then proceed for the 4km jog (boys had to do 8kms) and the exercise and meditation afterwards. Oh those were the times I hardly noticed what they gave for breakfast. Mummy would never believe it. Even though we had to obey our seniors who mostly were arrogant BC slimies.

As usual I made myself a few enemies. There was one I truly loathed, Praveen (it’s a girl). We managed a fight on the second day. Lotta kicking, scratching, hitting etc while rolling on the floor. Kerala cadets cheered me while Punjab cadets cheered for her. Our room head was shouting hoarse, as if we’d listen. She poured a bucket of water over us, yea like they do to fighting street dogs, uff! Then she gave us punishment. Extra 2 kms at 12:30 noon for 3 days. That was pretty harsh.

The head was my one close friend at the camp. I told her that I won’t rest until I pay back that bitch. She told me to do it discreetly so that she wouldn’t have to punish me again. I smiled at that. Awesome girl!

Now thinking out a plan was quite quick. I didn’t tell anyone for I was sure they’d try to stop me. At the camp we were to wash our own utensils though some seniors got junior cadets to do it. The washing place is always infested with crows due to the food remains there. Plan wasn’t much. I just waited to finish her meal and dashed upstairs with my plate. She reached the tap. I scooped my remains, took aim and threw it on her head. You can imagine what happened next. ATTAAACK!


Unfortunately my friend was not impressed. She was horrorstuck. She was like,
“Ni, I wont snitch about you or anything, but I think you should explain it to her and say sorry. God, you are horrible. She was trembling 2 hours after the attack”
“Yea, and she wont snitch at all”, I said sarcastically.
“Wow, courageous cadet”
“Ok, I will say it was me but no way I am gonna say sorry”
“Then its better you don’t say anything to her at all, she will feel horrible and I don’t want anymore of this war. I hate punishing you”
I was grinning broadly. They say camp friendships usually don’t last. I am glad mine is still…J
I kinda feel ashamed to say that whenever she passed we (ie the Kerala cadets) would take up ‘caw caw cawwwww…’

I Guess I regret it now.

Friday

I Hate Weddings

Mummy knows this. So she never forces me to get up on Sundays or expect me to make myself up for a few hours of torture. When I was small I used to take comics or books with me. This quickly earned a name for me, so I had to stop that.
Though mum does pass wistful comments and say how nice it would be to have me with her and how other daughters of my age were there wearing great designer stuffs, looking gorg and all.

She keeps saying that it is good for me to meet my relatives and suchlike once in a while. Yea sure. Relatives have an amazing knack of shooting up my nerves to a pinpoint. Since I am not allowed to be rude, I have an option of subtle sarcasm. But one does get tired of these tongue twister games.

Yea mum is kind of scared for me. She says its high time I become more social and mingle with all kinds of people and not just the few I like and all that. Long lectures on tolerance and acceptance never go amiss either including the importance of maintaining such ‘ties’.
Ties, my balls! Since wedding politics is not my forte, let me pass please.

And I hate the clothes they pick up for me in these occasions. I don’t have a voice here (until recently).
And then come aunts and uncles. Oh on such excellent terms we are. And a wedding background is just the catalyst we need. Duhuh!!!
The commonest grumble is about people going on and on about when my wedding would be and all the remaining blas.   

Goddd! If ever I marry I want (hope) it to be a court marriage and may be a small dinner party later. Yea, I know it’s a practically impossible idea. And being an Indian girl (Yawn + Grrr), oh lets not even go there.

Is there any point in fighting? Of course, Rebellion is the spice of life eh?
Whooooppppppppppppppps!!!!!!!!!! Mmuah!

Tuesday

Yea, I believe in fairies

Books, books and so many books. What do I do with them?

Yea, yesterday I was cleaning my bookshelf and suddenly it stuck me that I do have so many, both English and Malayalam. Old classics, poetry, plays, short stories, novelles... Dejavu once more. Those days when I used to do nothing but read read and read shutting out the world. I was really happy in my own world. Such a self-centred one.

Friends and cousins used to tease me a lot. They used to try simply everything to prise my head out of books. Oh those guilt trips were hilarious.

‘You can have your books any time, but we wont be around always’
‘If you do this to me I will never come here again’
Not to mention mummy’s perpetual ‘Baaabyyyy…’ banging off the walls every 5 minutes.

* TV was almost absent in the first 14 years of my life. It was just there in the house

As I was dusting my Blytons, Nancy Drews, Agatha Christies, Holmes and numerous classics, I couldn’t help but feel a tinge pensive.  

Little Women – I must have read it around a 100 times. But Little Men was not as good.
White Nights – Oh how romantic! (though I didn’t understand much at the time)
Three Men in a Boat – Mummy declared me abnormal when I roared with laughter thinking about it. (All time fav)
Wizard of Oz - Mmuah!
O Henry and Maugham Short Stories – Inspiring
Chekov Stories – Deliciously sad
Rapunzel – Used to dream of prince on horseback coming to save me (from what)
Highway Man – Riding Riding Riding
William School Stories – If I have a kid like William… (LOL)
R K Narayan’s – Just India.
Vaikom Muhammad Basheer - Ahhh... Hes the God!!!

*My Sis keeps a notebook with summaries of all the books she has read. Wish I did something like that now. Sigh!!!

Books sometimes cause partial MPD. The best thing is that my friend who read also told me the same thing. How can I so easily lose my ‘self’ like that? Trust me, this is the best form of escapism!

My tastes in books may have changed, but not the partial MPD. Shakespeare, Shaw, Jane Austen, Pamuk, Tolstoy, and lots of such big names replaced Blyton, Goosebumps and the rest. Pamuk is real close to heart. I still feel for the character of his dead body even now when I read ‘My Name is Red’ for the umpteenth time.

I remember Ayn Rand books made me exceptionally cynical for a few days though I am not over the top about her Fountainhead like my other friends. After reading 100 years of Solitude I could barely face people. Kite Runner made me cry for days (the part where Sohrab says that he feels dirty). Thousand Splendid Suns made me yell with fury at the plight of women in certain part of the world. I was in a semi-depression after reading Passport. Same goes with Godaan and Color Purple.

Quite the Jekyll and Hyde!

But this is nothing. My friend Nithya after reading the book ‘Blindness’, she actually felt that the whole world has gone blind. And she asked her mother, ‘Ammeh, can you see me?’

Oh no! 3 of my books are missing. Pickwick Papers, Rape of Lock and White Castle! This means murder!!! How could Mummy let this happen? I should put a lock to my shelf!

But again, what do I do with those books? Give them to my kids? What if they don’t like reading? I want my books to be used well.

I think I will bequeath collection to Kunjoos after my death. He loves books though he is more into comics and detective types (I was too, at his age). I am sure he will take care of them all.