Of The Great Debacle & Other Things

I had always lived with roommates before moving to Calcutta. Through college and my stint in Bombay. And both times I was lucky to have roommates who were from neighboring towns so they would go back home every weekend or at least every other weekend, so I could have the place to myself for at least two days every fortnight. It worked wonderfully well…I would get my space at regular intervals, and would be ready for company again by the time Monday rolled by & it was time for them to return.

At times, I used to think how nice it would be to live alone! To have the entire house to myself all the time, to not have to co-ordinate my shower time with that of my roommate in the mornings (which you can’t avoid in Bombay where you pay a bomb to live in shoebox apartments with one tiny bathroom), to be able to watch whatever program I wished to watch on television, to be able to sleep whenever I wanted to etc.

So when I moved to Calcutta I was all excited about living on my own. I got myself a pretty house with mind-blowingly well ventilated rooms, plenty of sunlight, quiet surroundings, a nice balcony & lots of trees outside my bedroom window!! It helps that the building is new and the house was freshly painted in a happy shade of pink before I moved in!!

However, five months of living alone and I’ve already had enough of it. I’ve realized that I’m not made of stuff that can handle - leave alone enjoy - living alone. I need people around me. I need people to talk to. I need someone home in the evenings.

I have come to believe that people who enjoy living alone and those who don't are inherently very different. They have a totally different set of characteristics. I just can’t fathom how some people can live alone, out of choice. And they seem to have a blast doing it too!!

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On another note, I’m reading Meenakshi Reddy Madhavan’s book ‘You Are Here’. For the uninitiated, she’s the author of the “popular” blog ‘The Compulsive Confessor’, and also writes a column in Mumbai Mirror called ‘Ms Adventures’. Sadly, her adventures are limited to drunken org*s at Zenzi, mishaps with her bra straps, being single, dating a guy, being dumped and being single again.

(Disclaimer : If there are any fans of her blog/column reading this blog, I’m sorry if I am hurting your sentiments, but I’m invoking my Fundamental Right of 'Freedom of Speech' granted to me by the Constitution of India)

Anyway, back to the book…IT IS UTTER CRAP. The material is no different from her blog - s*x, bra straps, being boy crazy, being cheated on, being dumped etc. The language is immature and straight out of high-school! The book is in first person, and though the protagonist is supposed to be a twenty-five year old, she talks like a ten-year old!! Now, I’m not a sucker for ornate, fancy-schmancy language and I’m all for authors who write in a colloquial manner, but I do expect a certain level of maturity in the writing, which is acutely missing in her book.

Which brings me to Ms Reddy Madhavan herself. I think she needs to simply take a break from trying so hard to be perceived as cool & modern. That’s the problem with her – she tries too hard. There are plenty of liberated, emancipated women in India today. One doesn’t need to be talking about one’s s*x life & dusfunctional bra straps on a public forum to be liberated. Being cool, modern & liberated is an attitude, not something brought about through words. Someone needs to tell her that. To me she comes across as someone who is trying desperately to prove a point where there is none to prove, to people who really don’t care!!

The latest update on her blog is that she's single again. Surprise, surprise...I wonder why!! Afterall, don't guys just love it when their girlfriends splash the details of their love lives & stories of how psychotic they were before they met the guy, on the web for the whole world to read!!

Anyway, on to other things…

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Winter is finally approaching in Calcutta! YAY!! All of a sudden, the weather changed yesterday. There was just that slight bit of nip in the air the night before, the morning was cooler than usual, and on my way to work - at around 10am - I noticed that the sun had to make an effort to shine!!

Can’t tell you how excited I am!! I love winters!! Not that I get all excited about sub-zero temperature & all, but I can handle cold much better than I can handle heat. Besides I love the feeling of being warm & fuzzy inside my home when it’s freezing outside! I love the winter sun! And I love wearing sweaters and socks and gloves and woollen caps and scarves and all that jazz when it's cold….what fun!!

St. Paul's Anyone?

During the most recent parents’ visit I learned that my parents almost sent me to boarding school at St. Paul’s, Darjeeling when I was a kid.

Apparently, it was my mom’s idea. According to my dad, my mom, who studied at Loretto Convent, Darjeeling for a few years, wanted to enrol me in St. Paul’s so she could get to visit Darjeeling often. Can you imagine that??

That’s THE MOST selfish reason I have ever come across to put one’s kids in boarding school. I mean, did my mom not love us or what???

Anyway, on knowing this I seized the opportunity to take my mom’s case (to those who know me, I don’t spare even my mom :-).

As mom started feeling guilty, my dad started gloating, since apparently he was the one who put his foot down and refused to send us to boarding school.

Now, one must never let dad gloat. Dad gloats - rubs it in mom’s face – mom starts getting emotional – a harmless joke turns into tear-laden sessions of “you guys never try to understand me, whatever I do is never enough for you guys, you take me for granted, you don’t give a rat’s ass about me ya di ya da”. None of this is ever related to the conversation that preceds it, I know, but that’s how moms operate.

Having said that schools such as Doon School, Welhams, St. Paul’s etc. have a legacy attached to them, and it would’ve been kind of cool having studied at St. Paul’s.

This is it!

The movers & packers came home this morning to take my stuff to Calcutta. All I have with me now is just enough clothes to see me through two weeks at home.

Never thought that after having lived in Bombay for so long, it would just be a matter of three days before I leave. It’s heart-wrenching. I love this city so much I don’t know how I’ll manage to stay away. I’ll go through major withdrawal for sure. I’ll always be a Bombay girl.

Life is very funny indeed. I never thought I would be moving to Calcutta. I liked the city on my various visits there – I always felt that Calcutta had the heart of a small town in spite of being a metro. I loved the laidback lifestyle, loved the fact that Calcuttans value things in life other than money. But I never thought I’d end up living there!

Well, life has its ways of getting you around to doing things you never thought you would so, and therefore the saying “Never say never”.

So yeah…this is it! Three more days in Bombay and then it won’t be home anymore. Even though I know my way around, I’ll still be a visitor to the city. But then again, I took a conscious informed decision to move out, so can’t really complain. I’d like to end this post with the opening lyrics of Vince Gill's 'The strings that tie you down'...

You're so close to telling me your leaving
Packing up your things and leaving town
If you can walk away the rest is easy
Once you cut the strings that tie you down

Singh is King

Talk about having the last laugh.