Wednesday, January 01, 2014

It's Alive

A beginning is the time for taking the most delicate care that the balances are correct.
                                                      - from Manual of Muad'Dib by the Princess Irulan

I woke up to leaden skies and an unaccountable hankering for bacon. Actually that's not true. No hankering for bacon is unaccountable on account of it being brilliant. So off I went and treated myself to eggs, bacon, sausages, waffles, juice and coffee. Even got some work done in a desultory sort of way.

In the evening, a run. The aasthaana kitten sat on the driveway wall and stared incredulously at me. It rained in T. Nagar. A globular, almost malevolent sort of rain which mysteriously stayed west of Mount Road. So the run was no problem, a pell-mell huffpuff through Kotturpuram and IIT. Somewhere, a coppersmith barbet called in the prescribed manner for it. Near the hostel, 3 mongeese crossed the road with great intent, mother mongoose and a couple of mongoslings.

On the way back, T. Nagar bus stand was like Watson's London; the great cesspool into which all the idlers and loungers of the city seemed to have been irresistibly drained. A child of some sort saw the half full Gatorade bottle in my hand and started beseeching me for it saying "Juice anna, juice." It clutched at my legs, almost fell at my feet. I tried to push past, and it persisted. So I shoved it away to the side. I am not sure why I did this. Or maybe I am. The damn thing costs too much.

Meanwhile the rain had started up again, now each malevolent drop was like an uncomfortable question, all cold and remorseless. When it let up, I pushed on down Burkit Road. A pretty girl struggled with her (doubtless semi-globular) umbrella near Venkatnarayana Road. Perhaps she saw me staring.

Perhaps she didn't.

I bought chicken and came home and ate it all up along with a couple of episodes of Breaking Bad. Really, the only question of great pith and moment is: Should one's blog be like Sartre's? Or should it be like David Dhawan's?

Friday, March 01, 2013

Mailing Lists I Am A Member Of

A somewhat odd bunch of them:

saras97: Hostel mailing list. And my oldest one. Easy enough to explain.
putscheme: This one flickered for one glorious New England summer (of 2001). Bunch of us used to hang out day in and day out, was used to plan trips to Cape Cod, Gloucester, parties and so on. Now defunct.
siripuram: Childhood Andhra University quarters gang. The people on this know me since I was yeh tall.
ebazm: Urdu poetry and such. Subhanallah!
iitmaa1997: Boring alumni thing.
minstrelsd: The super list of the now sadly dead Wondering Minstrels
timpany: The school where I studied till 7th class. When it's alive, it's one the most entertaining ones. Bunch of quizzing lists: Slightly boring. Good for planning trips.
irfca: Indian Railways Fan Clubs Association. To be expected, non?
marinemammalsofindia: Marine mammals of India. It's vitally important to know what's afoot in Talai Mannar, apparently.
wachusett2003: Another short lived glorious New England winter list that we used to plan weekday snowboarding trips from the office!
BSAP: Birdwatchers Society of Andhra Pradesh

There's also a bunch of others I can't find on the Yahoogroups page but I keep receiving emails from: Chennai Runners, Andaman and Nicobar Environmental Team, IIT-M's wildlife club Prakriti, and so on.

Most odd.

Monday, December 31, 2012

There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow

The Lake Isle of Innisfree

by W. B. Yeats

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee;
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

I Ate Paneer Bhurji Yesterday. Sort Of.

I boiled a packet of milk a few days too late. It failed. So I strained the thing and ended up with a handful of paneer. So I thought to myself, "When life hands you a lemon, make paneer bhurji."

While making it, I ended up melting a little bit of the cutting board into the frying pan. Like so:

Which reminds me of this:

The bhurji was OK.

Monday, October 15, 2012

Sunday, October 14, 2012

A Beginning Is The Time For Taking The Most Delicate Care That The Balances Are Correct

I shall write again. Something. Every day. Now I am going to eat biryani.

Monday, May 28, 2012


I can't believe that of all the things in the world, a completely pointless cricket match is making me post after so long. But this stupid, utterly inconsequential IPL final has made blissfully happy. It is the only match I've seen in this IPL and I am supremely kicked at the way things turned it.

 The thing is, basically, I hate the Chennai Super Kings. Really hate them, their whole "dynasty" swagger, their whistles, the sense of entitlement that the team seems to exude, and the sense of entitlement that the city definitely exudes. Above all, I am learning to hate the whistle podu-ing. podu it where the sun don't shine.

It's very embarrassing that this thing bothers me so much. But there it is. Why is this so? This is very complicated. Perhaps it's because when the IPL began, I used to live in that sporting capital of India, Hyderabad and got used to the home team dominating the tournament. Oh wait... So perhaps the real reason is that quite against my own conscious self, I started rooting for the Chargers. There you have it. I am like one of Konrad Lorenz's goslings. I hatched. I looked around. There was a completely useless team in front of me. BAM! Done.

 Then I moved to Madras 3 years back. And I love this place as much as I did Hyderabad, and I'm having a cetacean of a time here and all that. Except for this abomination of a team and its swagger and its sense of entitlement and...but I've covered that ground already. Worse than having lived in 2 cities (this one also is part of personal history) with hapless teams is to live in a city whose team (not your team) is doing well. This I have learned. (Ooh. Corollary. Would've HATED to live in New York.)

Anyway, as I wrap up this post, the Bollywood monkey brigade from KKR is doing cartwheels on the TV, so some of the euphoria is ebbing. But a good way to start the week. Unlike the week after the World Cup final. But that heartbreak is a story for a different time.