Chiffonesque

1. There is an inverse relationship between the length of a woman's hair and her self-esteem. 2. People choose their marriage partners based on whose dramas they can feed off on (and who in turn will suck up their own drama and nonsense). 3. It takes a sorted individual to stay away from marriage and/ or to walk away from it. 4. Kangana Ranaut is like the sun. 5. Madhavan reminded me of Aamir Khan - both so irritating that they give my intestinal lining a rash. 6. Sometimes one gets a sense that the movie is better than the script on account of the actors. One doesn't get that sense very often but I got it with this film. It would have been a cesspool of Haryanvi-Delhi-Punjabi clichés in less able hands. 7. Great wisdom was imparted by Deepak Dobiyal: "You have misbehaved the deadline." (I hear you brother...I hear you.)

Today I saw the rushes of the video we'd shot. It was most certainly a 'woohoo' moment but...I don't know if it's because it's my first time or if all writers feel the same way...but watching a film based on your script is a little like searching for a person's baby features in a very mature visage. Sometimes one sees a resemblance. Sometimes one misses it. But you know that it's there somewhere because...how else could it have become? I was on the sets when the video was sh ... ot. I'd done some amount of directing. I was there as it happened. Yet when I see on screen the light and shadow fall a certain way, when I see the actor smile one minute and scowl the next, when I listen to the intonation of some other artist's voice, I wonder...how did it become his story? how did it become everyone's story? WHEN did it become everybody's story? Looking back, I think I know. It was when the first camera was switched on. When, just like

The two may not seem related. I wear today a sleeveless cotton dress. It's white with tiny circles and dots with a dropped waist. (That happens to be a favorite pattern with me - a dropped waist.) It's a hand me down from a friend who had given me a bunch of white shirts last summer. Although it's a dress and can be worn by itself, I'm wearing it with a pair of white cotton pants that have teeny bit of crotchet detailing at the end. The dress has pockets. One of them is a little ripped so you can't put coins in it. A cotton dress for me is a way of saying hello with a smile that reaches my eyes. It's simple, it's innocent, and something about the pleasant way it breathes in the summer sun suggests that things will be fine today. Like the way things were. A cotton dress is a favorite kind of nostalgia.

So many things have happened over the last few days. Will write about them soon enough. We have shifted into a new office space. There are now no windows where I sit. There's a huge whiteboard in front though. Maybe I'll sketch out a scenery I like every day. A different one depending on my mood. Today, because I don't have markers, the mood is for a smooth expanse of snow. So far managed 40 suryanamaskars.

This morning I woke up with some amount of guilt. I thought it may be a good idea to be okay with the cook and maybe figure out things together. So I managed to change the gas cylinder. Then she makes me tea and gives it. The milk has spoiled and I see a cup of curdled, brown nauseating stuff. So, I ask her if she knew that the milk had spoiled. She said yes. I asked her if she thought there was anything wrong about giving tea that was made with curdled tea. She said that if I didn't like it, I could simply throw it. I told her I would and she needn't come from tomorrow. I suppose it was amicable.

At work, there's a pattern of behaviour that is exhibited by all parties involved. Initially interest, then some relief at having found someone to do the job, then one party gets too demanding and pushy, the other party gets resentful and resistant, then harsh communication exchanged wherein both parties' contribution is undermined, then very hurt feelings, then a throwing up of hands, but then finally some peace is brokered to get the job done. I notice that usually I am at the receiving end of some of this behaviour. What has started happening is that I have started exhibiting the behaviour of the 'other side' (I wanted to use the word 'perpetrator' but that would not be correct) on my help. I get really irritated with the two of them. When I hired them to clean an cook, I thought they would know whatever there is to know to get their respective jobs done. But the cleaning lady did not know how to make the bed or use Harpic to clean the floor or open and cl

Today it rained in a way that felt like a second chance. Source: www.pexels.com

I think of this movie I'd seen in Chicago a year ago. It looked like one of those indie films with a grainy quality that is usually associated with high art, low budget and/ or porn. Anyway, the film begins with a group of obese people who are part of a support group for 'Fat Pride'. They are in the middle of some slogan shouting about reclaiming their own beauty and dignity. Some time later, in walks a rail-thin girl who introduces herself and says that she wants to join the group. Everybody looks at her with contempt and disgust. They are very hostile. One woman, with hatred dripping like acid from her eyes, asks her, "You're thin. Maybe you're anorexic but do you see all of us? How do you think we'd feel if you come, sit with us?" Someone else tried to help her out by pointing her to the anorexia-bulimia support group. But she said that the reason she wanted to be part of the obese group because she saw herself as obese. Her weight, the size of

One more day wanted to end but I'm holding on to it and stretching it beyond its own exhaustion and mine - pulling it this way and that so that it can accomodate the beads of fatigue that currently swell. But on a good note - I made aam panna  with farm-fresh raw mangoes this morning. Pressure cooked the raw mangoes, removed the skins and scarped off the pulp. Added a large ladel of honey, some sugar and a screw of chilli powder. Added a lot of ice and water to dilute the drink .. Didn't use a blender because I like pulp. But it was tasty. Day begun well. 

Had not done any suryanamaskars the last two days. I did 20 today. At 1:30. There's this thing someone at work had introduced me to. It's a sev sandwich which the dabheli guy makes. It's a bun stuffed with mayonnaise, cucumber, spicy peanuts and sev . The bun is lightly toasted. It is such a tasty snack to have around 7:30. Really filling. It gets even more satisfying whe yu have it with a chilled Diet Coke - especially, this season.  

Source: www.pexels.com From whoever I am to whatever you are, I send you love. In the time I save from days, time like flecks of desiccated coconut, I send you love. In memory of Pip, in forgiveness of Isabella, I send you love. From that ruinous architecture of a mighty heart, From the pit of the stomach that's a raging ocean, From the spicy, earthy incense of flawed memories, I send you love.

Came home really late today. Ate a lot of junk today. But at 3:00 a.m., did 18 suryanamaskars. Inching ahead to 100.

Source:www.pexels.com   Managed to do 16 suryanamaskars today at 1:a.m. to Shark Tank.   Sweet sensation of sleep.     

www.pexels.com The things I did today to restore sanity: 1.16 suryanamaskars - at 11:30 tonight to Shark Tank 2. Had dinner at Dario's in the outdoor area. So pretty it was. Hot and humid but a nice, summer breeze, dimly lit tables, a fullish moon in the sky, and large platters of salads 3. Got some pointers from my dining companion about some spots to visit 4. Had a bowl of very healthy lentils and spinach 5. Glutted on Shark Tank, which I love (Somewhere in all this, I worked.)

Source: www.pexels.com I am exhausted. It is a holiday and I'm at work. I will be here tomorrow and day after. For the next month, there will be late nights and bad acidity. There is such a huge build-up of irritation and annoyance that it's not funny. But often times, there is something that soothes. Like last night. A colleague and I were working until late and she bought me pizza. We ate and chatted about the big lesson we'd teach our daughters should we have them. I thought about mine. So many years I have lived. Nothing is clear.