A Blog Well Waited

Week 2 in Deutschland. Sitting in the international library and wildly ecstatic for overhearing English being spoken by two elderly British gentlemen discussing politics. English, ja, since most of the time my ears have been feasting on the mighty German.

Yes, I finally made the move. To Germany. Why? Because the opportunity came and it didn't sound half bad and frankly I've been in a anywhere-but-here kinda mode since a few months.

So last month, while everyone soaked in the Christmas cheer, Him and I packed up our tiny Mumbai apartment, bid farewells to the family and moved to Deutschland.

Nothing prepares for Germany. Not even learning German on Duolingo. Nope. The small expat community online looks lively enough, sure, but no, you ain't seen Germany yet till you're stranded on a U-Bahn stop with three fat old ladies who make absurd hand gestures at you saying "Nien Englischhhhxyz xytjefjfhhfj". What? Who's being racist? I'm being accurate yo, phonetically of course.

Leaving is hard they say. But this is the super power I discovered about myself last month. I left quite happily. And not just the people, I was completely okay leaving behind things, home, infinite boxes full of stuff that at one time I absolutely had to have for my life to go on. Fantastic. But it's the arriving, the landing that I'm struggling with. Usual expat blues, I'm being told. English speakers are less, and English speaking jobs lesser still. So, the bad news is - I'm unemployed. Also, the good news is - I'm unemployed. If I told my past self that I'm right in the middle of Europe with no presentations due today, tomorrow or the next few months. I'd be shooting rainbows out of my ass. So, I'm conditioning myself to being free so much and then to utilize this free time effectively.

Conflict 2: Cold. I've got to conquer this devil. I'm a summer child, yeah.Winters make me melancholic, winters make me sad, uncomfortable, oh and immobile. I had this discussion with myself and Him when we took this decision. And it struck me then, if I keep chasing the summer suns forever, I'm cordoning off half the planet for myself already. Just like that. And that made me terribly sad. So, I packed my ear muffs and jumped right in. Also a sack full inners, leg warmers, woolen sockies, hats and gloves. In other news, they're forecasting a snow storm next week. Yes, FML. My ears ring, my toes and fingers feel like icicles and with my five foot frame, I look like a stuffed baby bear walking the streets. A cute and cuddly bear but a bear alright.

I made a huge to-do list sometime in 2008, that I stumbled upon today and I thought, hell, there will never be a better time than this. I don't have a job, I know a total of zero people (except Him) and a big to-do will be such a blessing.

So, that's all the updates from my part of the world, check back later and thank you listening to my chatter.

Yes, Magicbricks, I would of course tell you, why I want to unsubscribe.

Dear Magic Bricks,

Thank you and very kind of you to suggest these lovely sales to me. But unfortunately I will not be able to afford this 3 BHK in Worli you just mailed me about. You see, I'm only 26 and neither my father, nor my mother are from Bombay. Which basically means I will need to live here and earn for 300 years to be able to afford a house I like. That seems like a bit of a tedious plan and so I have decided against it.

I would request you to please stop sending me these mailers. They mock me, even when they're unopened in my mailbox and all I can read is a subject line of "Apartment for Sale". If you can please stop sending me these very depressing reminders of my inability to afford a roof for myself and my loved one, I will most appreciate it.

Thank you.

Very humbly (like there is an option otherwise)
Nainy

PS: Please also keep me out of the Ghatkopar, Bhayander and Navi Mumbai circles. Why, I would rather just move to Indore then. Zank you zery much.

Yes, Twitter and non-believer in the same sentence - sue me! And the ultimate reason for our ADD.

What in the world is Twitter anyway? Every morning I come to work and as a reflex sign into my Gmail, work email, facebook and well, twitter. Once done with the rest, I stare at Twitter. and I dont know what the fuck to write. I mean seriously, what could be happening? At every moment?

I'm completely missing the point. The stuff people write on Twitter, is meant for who? Themselves? Followers? Is it soliloquy? Who's reading my shouts anyway. And it's an ongoing stream of links and disjointed and disconnected conversations one after the other, after the other.

Like imagine this, you're sitting in your living room and there's the Ninja Blogger, the Ms. I'm from LSR-you idiots dont know literature, there's the local rockstar who thinks he's made it big with 700 followers, there's me - the I dont know I have nothing really to share person, the insane vagina lover blogger I follow like a maniac, there's the Indian TV reporter whose name rhymes with Marka Mut.

Wokay, so great y'all, glad to have you all in my conversation streams.

Me: Morning! Friday already! I love it!
Marka: Government should set up a collegium. Representatives of govt, opposition and two -three eminent citizens shd be part of it.
Me: Umm, ok.
Ninja: " Behold all is vanity and striving after wind" Ecclesiates
Ninja: Just ordered some of my pics from last year's Boulder Marathon. See all my pics here http://t.co/Bze3iEr via @brPhototweets
Me: Yeah, about that...
Vagina Chick: Each time I remember that Gossip Girl isn't on again until APRIL 18 I feel so much irrational anger. Also filed under: THAT KISS. GAH. HATE.
Vagina Chick: @spitts27 Totally agree, they're awesome! Email me your address and I'll send you one :) nicole(at)coleismuchbetterthanthat(dot)com
Me: What the..
Vagina Chick: YES, THE FIRE ALARM WORKS. STOP TESTING IT. AH. DEAF.
Vagina Chick: Don't keep your email open all day. Don't keep your email open all day. Don't keep your email open all day. #trainingmyself
Me: Dude, seriously calm down!!
Me means LSR: @dramoli I agree though- since data collection in villages thro health/ anganwadi workers is questionable - we may not fully know incidence
Me means LSR: Factual Evidence shows that women who read are way better to cope with life threatening situations than men. (Men? Shit, did anyone say that M word? I hate Men? I'm gay.)
Me means LSR: @MEN you're all sick rapists. Let's fight. Yes, thats why they teach us at our college, how to pick fights with anyone of oppsite sex, at the minutest of your inconvenience, oh that and verbal vomit.
Me: hehe.. I totally made that up. No, they dont "actually" (admittedly) say that.
Rockstar: Life is overrated. I like suicide. Seems the way to go for us all to be dead famous.
Me: Dead.. hehehheee.. you're funny. RT
Rockstar: I'm playing at Blue Frog tonight. come! And check out my pic with seven chicks totally ready to give me all www.twitpic.com/1245
Me: Yeah, you see, I'm at work an..
Rockstar: and here where I was at the beach, shaking my booty..oooohh yeah!!! www.twitpic.com/5677
Rockstar: And here - I had to show you that I "actually" know all these people! bit.ly.667/pic5 arre see to the right, that boxer shorts with "bum main dum" facing backwards, is mine!
Me: SHUT THE FUCK UP

Ok, I'm now tired, but you see, this is a completely frustrating conversation - for anybody! I think people tweeting are running their conversation in mind and just dont give a shit for what is actually going on. And so many links, jeez, link to my blog, link to my eleven thousand photos that I now take since I have an iphone bitches, link to my rest of the post since i dont know how to write in 140 characters, link to my site, link to my contest, link to this post from some totally random guy just cause I think its RAD! NO. NO. NO. NO. You've got it totally wrong. Lets repeat once again - I did NOT sign up for spam. Did. NOT. Did not. And twitter is like spam on acid. And I will not contribute. Will. NOT. Will not.

And what are these hashtags that you randomly create and think the world has thoughts on the same and one fine day they'll all be collated and you'll be the guy who bought it to light. #pukeonmycouch #HoHoHellNo #sickbastardmustdie #kittykitty #myparentsroom #stomachflab #chotachetan #kaminikabmaregi #charliesheensinning (the last one was me, oh! come on! I think it's funny). No but seriously, these are not topics of public interest, or one where we all have a say in.

If one of you smartasses is now reiterating the same old - it's for me! and what I wanna say regardless of anyone hearing. Well, then this is massively confusing. So you wanna write things for yourself and not for others, but you want to say it on a public forum all the same. TIRED AND BORED. Still confused.


PS: If any of you actually clocked on those links for those pictures. Seriously, sympathy, you have a lot of time - get on Twitter. Oh and respect, for your general interest and curiosity in random people and their pictures.

Ferris Bueller's Day Off

Sometimes, I'm sick of myself. I have some limitations which end up clouding my strengths. My goal in life is just freedom. See, this is hard to express, but let me try.

I don't like supervision. You can ask my mom, she'll swear by it. I also have a female-ego. Yeah, sue me. So, all in all, a man supervising me, ticks me off so bad, I develop tendencies which are life threatening, threatening his life to be clear. And so this line manager system woudn't work with me. Also, I absolutely love sun light. Please do not imagine scorching heat that you face when you're commuting in a cab and are laced with sweat. Cut some slack, let me paint a picture for you. Imagine 11 AM Sunday Morning with an empty house. Imagine your windows are open, and the balcony door is ajar. Imagine tiny shorts and a white ganjee. And now imagine icy beer in a beer mug in hand. A spicy tandoori chicken tikka for snacks with cuchumber. And a nap on the sofa with sunlight pouring in. What a beautiful way to enjoy nature? Ain't it. But then you're robbed off of it. The maximum that you can do this in your beautiful house, is 3 weeks. That's all your job will allow. One may argue there are weekends, but the weekends are stressful themselves, in dividing time between family, friends, chores, catching a movie, reading at least a couple of pages of those books dusting away in your closet. In fact, I need weekends to recover from weekends. So in effect, I can only really enjoy just 21 days out of 365 days of my year. And not just this one year, year after year after year.

How depressing. Yeah, fuck that shit.

I have momentary lapses of motivation when I read others' blogs/FB updates on how their project is coming along great now, and how they were up till 3 AM working in the office and taking it all in the stride. And I think, hmm, see Nainy? That's the way of life! Everyone has to pay for their fun and work like an ass. But like I said, its momentarily. It wears off, and I think that's just fucking stupid.

So here's what I wanna do. I want to learn and take classes - on anything for that matter, skate boarding, kick boxing, tai chi, reiki, sword fighting, coding, swimming, carving, italian, urdu anything. I want to write. I want to travel. And I want to NOT feel that I only have 21 days off in my year. I also DO NOT want to feel stressed about not being able to find enough vacation for my brother's wedding.

It's not like I don't want to work, but I don't like being chaperoned. I want to work location independent. Did I mention I also hate so much money dependency?

The whole system is wrong. I wish I could go back to olden times and while the time machine is at it, also put me somewhere in Europe. And then I'll be at one place say in a spanish dance Studio, work for couple of months, pack my minimalistic little self and move to another country say Italy and wait tables in an idyllic day cafe in Rome.

Just writing about this makes me happy. I hate how everyone around me thinks it's too idealistic. It is actually simpler than it sounds. And of course, it is fair. So much more fair that this economy blah blah world is being to us.

Oh god, when can I start living?

The Ploy of the Cubicle

And what I discovered is, it's not even a damn cubicle. Cause if it was a cubicle it would have had atleast 3 walled sides, giving one some perception of privacy. These modern cubicles are a desk with people on etither side sitting in a one-hand-distance fashion. Its really something. It's my first in a cubicle and also my first time in an Ad agency. I reckon there will be many firsts here (mean look).

The lady is a tramp

She gets too hungry, for dinner at eight
She loves the theater, but doesn't come late
She'd never bother, with people she'd hate
That's why the lady is a tramp

Doesn't like crap games, with barons and earls
Won't go to Harlem, in ermine and pearls
Won't dish the dirt, with the rest of those girls
That's why the lady is a tramp

She loves the free, fresh wind in her hair
Life without care
She's broke, but it's o'k
She hates California, it's cold and it's damp
That's why the lady is a tramp

Doesn't like dice games, with sharpies and frauds
Won't go to Harlem, in Lincolns or Fords
Won't dish the dirt, with the rest of those broads
That's why the lady is a tramp

I like the green grass under my shoes, what can I lose?
I'm flat! That's that! I'm all alone when I lower my lamp:
That's why the lady is a tramp! Don't know the reason for cocktails at five.
I don't like flying - I'm glad I'm alive.
I crave affection but not when I drive:
That's why the lady is a tramp!

Folks went to London and left me behind.
I missed the crowning - Queen Mary didn't mind.
Won't play Scarlett in "Gone With the Wind":
That's why the lady is a tramp!

I like to hang my hat where I please, sail with the breeze.
No dough - Heigh - Ho! I still like Roosevelt
and think he's a champ:
That's why the lady is a tramp.

Girls get massages, they cry and they moan –
Tell Lizzie Arden to leave me alone.
I'm not so hot but my shape is my own:
That's why the lady is a tramp!

The food at Rector’s is perfect, no doubt.
I wouldn't know what the Ritz is about.
I drop a nickel and coffee comes out:
That's why the lady is a tramp!

I like the sweet fresh rain in my face.
Diamonds and lace - no got, so what?
For Robert Taylor I whistle and stamp:
That's why the lady is a tramp!

Originally written by Frank Sinatra

State of mind for now.

Add:

I also don't know how to play hard to get
when you're in love whats the point to play the net
I let myself be and not walk the ramp
And that's why , my friends, the lady is a tramp!

The Thin & Diminishing Line Betwixt Being Free & Being Busy

My work which in my eyes is very ordinarily challenging takes away most of my time. I feel like my personal life is up for a spin, funnily enough though, this is only occurring to me now. How I unquestionably hate working Saturdays. And how I'm so taken by my work and its limitations, that it spills over to my all other sides. I haven't written anything exactly significant in more than three months. None too great a literature read, and no drawings made. I need to get all my creative energies together in something other than creative ways to make incredible excuses for a chaotic and utterly unorganized life.

So I have quite a few work woes, and I'm not ready to look at them like others, as in, the school of thought of 'nobody really likes what they do'. Because I for once, don't want to spend 40 hours per week of the best years of my life doing something I don't like. So as much as I really want to voice my woes and get things rolling, I never really know what is an acceptable work difficulty to express and which ones to manipulate extensively. Anyway, I don't think some of my difficulties make either of the cuts. Like how would you feel when you come in to work one day and there's a snake. A fucking snake. I mean, shit! What kind of a fucking work place is that!? Jeez. Anyway, I'm told its commonplace thing at IIT and we just need to learn to live with them. For which, I say - No.

Strange very very strange things have been happening, in the lines of finding snakes at your work place ofcourse. Like your Mom asking you if you've ever seen a boy stripping? That's freaky shit dude. She also very recently acquired the added skills of SMS-ing, so now whatever I tell her about my life all through her overtly frequent phone calls, she tops it with an SMS to go along with it, right after you hang up. So, they revolve around Aal iz well type-y jokes, to you need courage to live type lines, to sardar jokes to friends are forever to dirty jokes. Yeah, dirty jokes. Eww.

Also, I recently moved to a new place and don't know fuck about making new friends. Like what the fuck do you say, "Hi, you don't know squat about me but we're gonna sleep in the same bed and eavesdrop on each other's personal late night conversations from today. Of course, fucking awesome meeting you". Also, there are so many uncertainties. Like how tolerant are you with swear words, do you expect me to ask you for dinner when I go out? Do you like music in the background? Are you going to judge me if you see fleeting scenes of nudity on my laptop screen (Courtesy: Califorication, damn good show btw), and what's the protocol on dressing up? You dress in the shower or the bedroom? Or I don't know. It's just weird. And I now also have the headache to set up a new internet connection at my place, jeez. And a brand new bank account, because seriously SBI is a little too much for one life.

Salut!

Holiday Seasons, Bang Bang, Lychee Martinis, Vulgarity and I

I went to Bangalore. And there’s nothing even remotely banging about the damn city. In any aspect or meaning of Bang whatsoever. It’s boring as hell. Mumbai is delicious. Fuck yes. And I’m never leaving, that’s it. NOW I’ve said it. Screw you all.

I’ve started to notice how some words just sound so sexy. And they’re all rational non-dirty words. Just, sound so sexy. Even out of the context. Like Felicity. Say it, you’ll see. Like Velvet. Or say Froth. See what I mean? Anymore you guys can think of?

Apart from an obscene sense of humour, vulgarity and an unreasonable amount of curiosity in hindi swear words, I now also have a full time job. Which is great, but I hate the travel. Cause really, there’s only so much of strangers’ sweat you can take in a day.

Thanksgiving just went by and just cause I didn’t mention it does not at all mean that I’m an ungrateful bitch (although in the past few weeks there have been some meaningful directed not-so-subtle suggestions made to me to just get bitch tattooed instead of my really gay butterfly, huh) So yeah, there are plenty of things I’m thankful for. First off, I’m thankful to God for being so non-interfering. I like that sort of a system. It makes you all mysterious and brings in so much glamour. Like about your forms, if God is beautiful or just mom-look-alike? I am thankful to all the people in the world for trying out different cuisines and all sort of food, so we may sample it here in India, of course with a dash of tadka. That’s right, we have Indian Tadka in everything from Nachos to Risotto to Peri-Peri. I’m very very thankful for being given this body, and also eleventy thousand times more thankful for the sort of shit you can do with it. I’m thankful for Jet’s very hot cabin crew to make travel easier. I’m thankful to Vijay Mallya to make Kingfisher so readily available everywhere, you’re doing my country proud honey. I’m very thankful to my roomies for midnight laughs and always having leftover food in our fridge. I’m thankful for guilt free fantasies. I’m thankful to all open minded people for invigorating and extensively liberating conversations. To Melange, for making low-cost cotton kurtas. To W, for making Indian wear so ghetto. To Toto’s, for being there. Stay. For true affection. For short fleeting stares strangers give followed by a smile. To playful winking. To soundproofing. And to my salary, thanks for being there and on time Amen. Awomen.

PS: Oh about the title, Lychee Martini is a great waste. But it’s just so awesome to hold a Martini glass. Also, in this same Martini sampling party there was Yash Birla and of course my gossipy drunk mouth had to tell all my friends “look! Yash Birla, do you know he’s probably one of the richest guys in India?” and they were all like, he’s way too ugly for so much money. Hehe. True that.

PPS: Anticipate a big big post on my sacrosanct undying theories on IIT and IIT men ( there are only men in IIT). Since my recent close (and ongoing)encounter with IIT, I have come up with some totally bril ideas on "how to make IITians less of a loser in life?" and it will include a full scale course with workshops on "How not to speak of Hertz as a subject of omni-interest on dinner tables" and "How to stop assuming and start talking (in commonly intelligible people's language, and avoiding fight, machana and chamkana) Whew!", oh and certainly "How not all women are like porn stars! Anywhere on their bodies."

PPPS: If you thought just reading this post was sexy, you are a true IITian. Congratulations. Now, shut up, and join my workshops (and get a life).

Mwah Mwah XOXO

Blank Noise and Bombay Addiction and World Dont Stand No Chance

For the first part of the title, here. I contributed my story for a section called Action Heroes. Support.

I spent Diwali with Hussain at Prithvi and Juhu Beach. Been insanely busy writing for topics I dont really understand, Insurance, Management, Indemnity, Winter Gardening, Addiction, you get the drift. Well, Addiction, I do understand :P And why am I writing trash? Well chicas, we got Rent issues.

I have also been going nuts fixing Internet connections, moving, traveling in Autos, cooking, stuck in messy transactions with Bai, quality checking LIITs around umm everywhere, contemplating saving, hogging shawarmas et cetera.

I'm indebted, with sparse money in a city with much too many avenues to spend on, not to mention Landmark and Mango stores. I hope my Karma rewards me for my super-satiated behavior lately (in terms of shopping strictly). Strict leading to discipline leading to job thoughts, reminds me, I have a deadline. So more life updates later.


All in all, times, they are a changin'

For the love of God, God…

…we need some H2O here. Like really, it’s not even funny anymore. Ever since I have moved to Indore, I haven’t showered. I mean, we have that balti and mug and all, but flowing water with bubbles and pressure remains a distant dream. So does using conditioners. And bleep bleep, after bleep after bleep, has happened to my swimming pool plan. Due to acute shortage of Water, our club people, which FYI is supposed to be the nicest club of the city has closed all the showers but two in each Mens and Womens locker rooms and the two so called active showers have had some more than passive turnout with water pressure, so much so, that there is a queue to it. It’s not a fun scene there, I especially loathe the flabby auntyjis chit chatter of Bridge while they shrug their shoulders and flip their receding hair in black skirty swimsuits in the shower queues.Thanks, but no thanks. I utilize less clothes, I utilize less utensils and get frustrated all day thinking of how much water we used to have in New Bombay! Oh also, there is no warm water. You’re smart, you know why.

I don’t freakin give a shit anymore if its Taai, Taaya, Mamu, Chote Bhaiya, Chacha Sasur or whoever jagat bhaiya wants to run my city. But I want the damn water for my hair oil days.

In the pseudo winter night

This is no onset to winter in Mumbai, this is a rude tease to everyone from colder places. And after spending the entire day in my room, down with fever, and watching 14 episodes of How I Met Your Mother back to back. I want.... second season.

I dont want any thoughtful movies. I want no deep meaning cinema. Hell, I dont even want any chick flicks. After I forced myself to read through the first few pages of The White Tiger, I'm not in mood for books. And after I gave away my new year dress to Joyee, can the damn New Year please start already?

So I got so kicked after Dasvidaniya, I made my own little list of 10 Things to do before I die. No, I'm not sharing it here. You think I'd share mine first??!! Ha! And I have edited it even more than I have edited my CV, and that is a lottt. The point is, my tenth position is still empty. I thought I'd have a million things I'd wanna have, looks like its just 9, even those look a little repetitive.

I just wanna go home. I'm missing home so much, its crazy. But there are three conferences coming up and not to forget the trashy end terms. This is stupid. I want a holiday, I wanna go home :(

30 days from today, thats the nearest date that I can go :( And what kind of a crazy whacko college has even the 25th and 31st Dec as working days? And what kinda of a Communication class makes you write 30 page proposals? And I thought A/C was all numbers, but no sir, there are cases (here too!?), and to be answered in a particular format. Someone should tell these crazy bald A/C professors, noone really gives a shit about there stupid formats and columned shits, uh... we have graphs now. And some stuckup asshole FIN major doing them for the rest. So why is he wasting my time again?

Gawd, my life was so set, I was doing my low key trashy writing and in my small little city it was acceptable standards also. And then some crazy fool got all the money talk and MBA in my brains..

Thats right, Priya, I hate you. You sorry ass.



P.S. Sorry about the language.
And if you're a heartbroken FIN major now, big shit.

Fallout Girl

I heard someone say once that every song ends, but that’s no reason to not enjoy it. One ends and one starts, that’s what they say, right? This has been weird year. There are parts which feel like yesterday and some moments lost which feel like light years ago. I miss those all, and I miss those people. I know its not the year end yet, but I want it to end cause I can’t wait to start afresh. Every year, and with every fallout I always promise myself that whoever’s fault it is, I’m gonna get out of it being a better person. And my heart knows I try. I figure I’ve been reckless with a few of my friends, judging them, ignoring them. The truth is I’m scared, feel vulnerable, feel afraid to not be accepted. There was a line in Into the Wild, it said ‘it’s not about how strong you are, it’s about how strong you feel’. And I know I’m stronger than that, I can be a better person for this. Courage is not always winning. Courage is losing and then wake up each morning saying I’ll try again today.

I’ll try again today.

From the playlist, Lately, Helio Sequence and Phir Dekhiye, Rock On.

P.S. Priya I miss you too much, come back! Or atleast get a freakin night out and come to Bombay.
P.P.S And yeah, stop obsessing about Obama. All of you.

Wokay, gotta rush, Strat Man class now and then HR in Service Sector. Aargh! Yeah, yeah, you all have a good life too.