Quick bitching type rant

I was so happy earlier in the evening. I had gone out for this stand up comedy show at the Comedy Store, Mumbai and it was all nice and all. But this place is 2 hours away from my home, like ANY decent place to hang out in Bombay. Really, the suburb of Bombay that I live in is pathetic. And obviously, this show was not going to be held at 8 in the morning coz I have to go back home. So, when I reached home after the show, it was already 12:30 or so. And of course, there were the silent looks of accusation. Conversation was impossible coz no matter what you say the only response is going to be "Of course I am sleepy. I woke up at 4:30 for you and haven't slept a wink since then. But how can I sleep if you have still not returned home yet?"

Yes, of course, everything is my fault! I should listen to you and live my life *just* the way you want me to coz if not, how will you live vicariously through me? Therefore, I must study until I die and do a "safe" job for a woman, like teaching, and be the most boring person ever on the Earth. But since I am not that kind of a person, I have ruined your life!! I'm like the worst possible daughter ever!

I mean, come on! What the fuck was I thinking? I am in Bombay, not Delhi. And I am 22, not 16! How can I even think of making my own decisions once in a while and go out in the evenings? (I *so* refuse to call this a "night out".) It's not like I go out everyday. Just one or twice a month. And even that, mostly early evenings/ late afternoons. But no. I can't ever come back from these places happy AND stay happy even later. It all HAS to be fucked up by them. 

Arguments

Parents: No, you can't.

Me: Why not?

Parents: Don't ask questions. When we say you can't, you can't.

Me, in my head: Yeah, right. THAT is going to convince me. 
Me: Sorry. Too bad that I've grown up. I will do exactly what pleases me.

Parents: If we had been strict with you from the start, we'd never have had to see this day. Now you have no regards for our emotions or any respect for us. You take us for granted. You don't ask for permissions at all these days.

Me: Oh, if I knew asking for your permission would have changed your answer, I would. You are never sold on any of my ideas. So, I have little option but to go ahead and do it anyway. Plus, I like making my own decisions.
Me, in my head: They are almost always wrong but at least I have no regrets. Also, you must record those lines. You have used it one time too many. You know that they don't affect anymore, right? Of course, completely different matter that most of the things you say have stopped affecting me because... okay, must stop having dialogue with self. They are still going on about something.

Parents: And we mean nothing to you? Does asking us before making your decision make you feel smaller?

Me, in my head: No, it changes my fucking decisions. All that emotional attyachar and pressure. And mostly logical arguments.
Me: Dad, don't start going all Bollywood on me. I like doing spontaneous things and I feel I don't do them often enough. When an opportunity presented itself, I decided to take it. That's all.

...Blah...

Parents: We don't want to argue with you.

Me: Good, neither do I. I'm still doing exactly what I want to do.

Which, btw, is going to Delhi for 3 days to visit Akshardham. :) My cousin, who is studying Architecture, has to go there as she is writing her thesis on it or something. She wants company and I want out of this city, even if it's for 3 days. Admittedly I will be able to do nothing but see the route from Delhi station to Akshardham, Akshardham itself and the route back to the station. I still can't wait to get away from here. As you can imagine, my parents are so not happy with two girls going to Delhi on a totally unplanned trip. But it's exactly that part which is giving me the *proverbial* erection.

More Rants

Dear God,

I know that assholes with their perfect lives, perfect jobs, perfect babies, perfect Saturday night romances, perfect fucking everything were not enough. I know that them blabbering on with their "Life without marriage is so pointless" unsolicitated advice on my precious Saturday night is not enough. I know that living in a fake city with fake people with fake fucking everything is not enough. I know that hating my life as much as I already do is not fucking enough.

But did you have to pile on like this? You could at least have given me a day's notice or something. That IS the protocol, right? I thought I deserved at least the Sunday off.

Sincerely,
Too fucking angry for words.

Oh Star, Where art thou gone?

Something is very seriously wrong with me. It's probably called "growingupoplasia". But, I have never in my entire life been so depressed. I have always been a very bubbly and optimistic person, to the extent that sometimes I even give myself a headache. But I think one of the most important reasons behind my happiness and cheerfulness was the security. I knew exactly what I wanted from my life, what I wanted to do, when I wanted to do it, everything. Everything was so much easier.

But, last year changed everything. It changed my perspectives, my aspirations, my ambitions, my dreams, everything. And now, I no longer know exactly what I want. I don't know in which direction to move forward. Or even whether to move forward or not. I have even given up on my PhD application. If I am not sure that I want to be in the academics, then there is no point in doing a PhD at all. And even if I do decide later on that I want to do it, I can always do it. But if I jump into it right now, it will be a three year commitment. And I don't want to find out in the middle of this very expensive commitment that it's not exactly my calling. I just don't have enough motivation or inspiration to actually pick up my pen (metaphorically only. I actually mean type it out) and formulate my application.

What I am sure I really want to do is travel. So, I think I am going to appoint that as my new goal. Only, this travelling is a very expensive business. So, I am going to work like a donkey so that I earn enough money to travel. And go, visit Sun in New Zealand. Of course, it will probably take me about 2 years of savings or more if I stay in my current job. It's stupid, shitty job that doesn't even pay me well. I don't know why I don't just quit. It was so much easier to tell people to quit if they are not happy doing something. But, I am so confused about everything in my life that quitting will only make me panic even more. Besides, the mind-numbing job gives my over-alarmed, over-working brain a rest.

And I should not even get started on how much I miss Atom and how much it is painful to actually think of it as a hopeless situation. Bloody unfair life, go screw yourself. I just don't know anything anymore. 

The Devil wears a Gujrati Sari

Ufff, all the things you have to do for money! Why is it that money really does make the world go around, however much some people might want to argue with that?? :( I have started working at this restaurant since a month. And I've actually worked only 4 days there. The woman who owns the restaurant never tells me when to come. I call her about 3 times before she tells me when to come next. Moreover, it pays like shit and the working conditions are worse than the pay. But still, I'll work there. Because it pays me SOMETHING. I'll put up with work I'm not particularly fond of, put up with people I'm not particularly fond of and accept money that definitely does NOT do justice to the amount of work there is. Because something is better than nothing.

Besides, NOWHERE else in this country did I get a job, not even in restaurants or department stores, because I do not have any "UK experience." I mean, come on, it's there on my CV. I came to this country less than a year ago! How do you expect me to get experience if you don't give me a job to begin with?!! Besides, I used to be a teacher for THREE years in Mumbai. Mumbai, which I think is even better than London. (I know some people might not agree on that one. But well, I think we should agree to disagree. I don't deny that I'm biased towards Mumbai because it is, after all, my birthplace and the place where I lived the first 20 years of my life.) Anyhow. Surely it's not like we teach savage lingo there. And if they are worried about my language, that's on my CV too. I speak 6 languages and am an English Literature Graduate who got through a very reputed English university for her Masters. I mean, doesn't all this say SOMETHING for me? Plus, I was even ready to volunteer because obviously I'd have to get used to the National Curriculum and other systems in place here. But noooooooooooo. So, I had to apply for restaurants, bars and department stores kind of jobs. There, I was too qualified and totally experience-less. Again, it's not common in India for students to have part-time jobs like this. But, I'm a smart person and learning this would not be difficult at all. But they have too many people who apparently have learnt how to use a till when they were in their mother's wombs. So, who the fuck would care about training us international student types? But this would be a whole different post - how this country is so UNwelcoming, with many other examples apart from unavailability of jobs (because that is something not just international students but everybody is facing in general.) :/

Anyhow, going back to this place where I "work." Everything is so disorganised! I must also mention at this point that I worked in this same restaurant for 2 days before. But, after 2 days, the owner told me that she has too many people on her staff and can't really afford one more. Wow, wonder how she didn't know that less than a week ago when she hired me! I went back there because it's the only place where I'm earning something. But, it still doesn't make it any better! Last time I worked was last Monday. I kept calling her and she was never available. A few days ago, one of my colleagues informed me that my name is on the rota for working on Friday. So, I dressed up in the formal trousers and formal shoes that I hate and basically dressed up as a plastic doll to look all professional and pretty for the customers and went in to work. The owner, as usual, was not there. She is mostly away on trips or chilling at home. Only to be told that I was actually a standby and so, wasn't needed. I should go back home. I will be called if needed. WTF?

Now, I don't have a problem with being a stand-by and not working for 2 weeks at a stretch (well, I have less problem with that than I have with spending money on bus fares to get there and coming back without having earned anything at all.) But doing that was TOTALLY unacceptable. Also, another BIG (literally BIG) problem that I have with this place is an OLD, FAT, Gujrati lady, whom we call maasi and who is the head chef of the restaurant. Now this is the woman I talk about when I say "The Devil wears a Gujrati Sari." She is such a power-tripper! She likes exercising her fake authority over all of us when the owner of the Restaurant (let's call her Thin) is not there. Which, like I told you, is most of the times. Like today, when she said, "It's our system. Even if your name is on the rota, you should come only when we call you." WHAT BULLSHIT! So, you are the one who opens the restaurant and then, make phone calls to everyone saying you have to come in for work? And everyone else is sitting at the edge of their chairs, waiting for you to call, not making any plans for their evenings just in case you call? Do I look like an idiot to you? What makes you think I'll buy that load of crap?

Apart from just plain bullshitting, she also screams at everyone. A LOT. It's her way of showing that she is greater than you. I'm sure she's never heard of the concept that you have to give respect to earn respect. I may be less than half her age. But it doesn't in any way give her the right to scream her lungs out at me. And for no reason too, except that I am new and might get easily scared. Well, too bad for her that I am so thick skinned that I totally don't care about her. And I think I can afford to not care about her because I don't really care that much about the job or the money. I'm just doing it for the experience and so that I don't feel totally useless and like a loser, having spent lakhs of rupees (no wait, lakhs of education loan rupees) on coming here for a year. However, THAT is my choice and I don't regret it one single bit. Like I've told before, England is like a close, close friend. A few unpleasant experiences *so* don't define how I feel about it. If only it had better weather though! ;)

Which reminds me, it was raining cats, dogs, horses and zebras when I was coming back from work and so, decided to stop for a drink. Anyway, I was upset about the whole work thing and needed a drink. ;) So, I went in a bar and ordered a cocktail. Then, I just sat there, feeling the warmth of my drink curling around in my stomach and watching the rain. Even though I was right in the middle of the city and this would have been waaaaay more romantic if I was in the countryside, it was still quite nice. :)

I'm "fat" and I'm loving it!

No, this is not a disparaging post on McDonald's and obesity.

It's about me. I'm telling the world that I'm "fat" and loving it! Ok, ok. Those of you who know me might probably be ready to jump up on me and say "You are not fat!!!!! Bloody hell, you are tiny!!!" I agree. I'm tiny. And I certainly don't qualify to be called "fat". Actually, that word has so many politically incorrect connotations that nobody should be called "fat". Healthy, overweight, plump, obese even. But not fat.

So, then, the question arises, what the hell am I writing about? Well, I'm writing about my aunt, my uncle, my other aunt, my other uncle, my cousin, my other cousin, my parents even and a whole lot of other aunts and uncles and cousins from my large, super-extended (stretched out like a rubber band) Gujrati family, all gasping at how much weight I have put on in the last few months, ever since I came to the UK! I bet a lot of them must be thinking (and probably even saying out loud) that if this continues, it'll be difficult to find a good groom for me. This must stop!! I must excercise, work out, join a gym, eat a fruits-only diet, stop eating out, maybe just come back to India where I will generally feel less hungry because it's not as cold. Yes, right. Thank you all for your invaluable advice. What would I have ever done without you all?!!

Btw, may I point out to you all that I have put on a couple kilos of weight, my waist has gone from 26 to 28 and now, my figure doesn't look like a Barbie doll, I-would-fall-down-if-I-were-a-real-woman but rather, a little bit more proportioned. And most importantly, that I'm happy with it? I don't understand why a woman's beauty is associated with being thin!! I understand that I'm very short - just 5 feet tall, in fact and therefore, if I get too bloated up, I'll look like a balloon (which, btw, is not always necessarily bad!) But, I think I have a fine figure right now. The important thing is that I'm healthy - neither underweight and anorexic nor overweight and obese. That is what should be important. But, not to my nosy, interfering relatives all over Mumbai. They want me (and every other girl in the family) to be like one of those skinny model-types because that's the only concept of "beauty" they'd understand. Fair, flawless skin, skinny build and you never have to worry about the girl's marriage! *tight lipped smile you give people when you don't agree with them but CAN'T disagree with either because it's "not polite" to argue with elders* Gah. I just wish they'd leave me alone!

How do you uproot this absolutely stupid obsession with looks and a certain body-type? Especially for women. With men, everybody acknowledges that certain body-types are hot and preferred. But, if a man doesn't have that, at least he is not plagued by the WHOLE WORLD about how it'll hamper his future prospects. I don't know how many generations it'd take for my family to realise that! Moreover, media, with it's fascination for younger, thinner, fairer women doesn't help either. Don't my aunts and uncles remember how they used to drool over Asha Parekh in their youth? Probably still do. But if any girl from our family has the same body type, she'll immediately be relegated as "fat." And I'm not even going to start on the whole be-beautiful-and-thin-for-guys-to-like-you-for-marriage-because-marriage-is-everything-in-your-life crap.

Sigh. *shakes head in resignation and says "bade log, bade log"* :P

My Singleton Laments

I spent my last weekend with 3 couples and one other single guy at a friend's boyfriend's party house. Now, before everyone jumps to conclusions, I must say, it wasn't a set-up though it sure did look like one. Needless to say, I'm not a big fan of set-ups or even set-up look-alikes! Though, what I am a big fan of, is chick lit and chick flicks. At several levels, I am quite the Sex and the City meets Bridget Jones who has already met Gurinder Chadda's Gujju version. Ok, no, I exaggerate. I am none of the above because all of them had jobs that not just paid their bills but also bought them MANY pairs of Manolos. 


But I digress. So, anyway, between the party nausea and my love for chick lit, here I am, writing this blog-post instead of reading the postcolonial theories (yep yep, pun intended) that I should be reading for my dissertation. So, can anyone tell me what is the deal with these smugly-coupled sort of people? (RANT ALERT, RANT ALERT!!) I mean, they are fine when you know them and then, boom! One day they find someone and they jump the ships and act like they have always been sailing in that other ship and are professionals at it now! Why do they forget that a third person is hanging out with them while they are doing their couple thing everywhere from a supermarket to a bedroom? How do they forget that they won’t die if they keep their hands off each other for a few hours? More importantly, forget the other guy but, why does your single-until-3 months-ago friend forget that? Why does she forget that she was the one who didn't like public displays of affection until 3 months ago? At the very least, how come it's so easy for them to forget that they had other friends with whom they used to share everything, even something as small (or maybe as magnificient) as the smell of flowers announcing the arrival of spring while walking through the garden? How do they so easily justify their friend's behaviour as jealousy and unfairness and their own behaviour as just a change in the situations? How do they forget that they have an individual identity (well, at least used to)? How do they forget that sometimes, other people might want to talk to just one of them, not the whole package? And how do they even possibly assume that this someone else (of course it's me! I'm the one ranting, aren't I?) might be okay with talking to them only while their smugly coupled significant other has gone for a bathroom break? (Unless of course I gag him and lock him there for a few hours. I would if I didn't know that my friend would go looking for him as soon as 3 minutes are over.)


Alright, now that I've taken a deep breath. So, ok, these are not exactly my "singleton laments." I'm just raving at the loss of a close friend.. But what the hell, I did lose her to the sea of the smugly coupleds. And of course, I am always going to have the problem of how to adapt my super unromantic self to the increasing number of smugly coupleds around me! Even if and when I am one of them myself. Food for thought: Maybe going to Mars will help.