Monday, December 21, 2009

Steel Unicorn - a short story.

Disclaimer - all characters and incidents in this story are a fragment of my fertile imagination - any resemblances to people you know is a coincidence.


SHITTY FIRST DRAFT.

During my summer vacations, I loved playing in the generous yard in our grandfather's cute little bungalow with the humongous sky light - the one that formed in the center of the ceiling of a living room that was kept empty, saving the stool like bench that lay casually on side of the room, rested against the wall. The sky light was like a celebration of the elements though it resembled more of a hole created by an imaginary object falling on the carefully arranged tile roof and the sun, moon, stars and rain sifted themselves through the generous crevices of a cast iron frame. I often looked up at the frame, and wondered what purpose it served. It was definitely not there to stop the elements, nor was it particularly soothing on the eye (ruling out the possibility of an aesthetic) but it was there, like a crater, or a void on an otherwise perfect layout.

I enjoyed sitting there an gazing at the sunlight that haloed into the house - enjoying freshly squeezed mango pulp or reading the children's supplement of the Daily chronicle. Only one thing interrupted my idle thoughts- my uncle - the steel Unicorn. Unicorn was a tall, athletic man. with sinewy lean muscle shrugging on a teenager like body structure. He was a bachelor - a bachelor past prime (especially in Indian standards) at the age of thirty six. There were stories circulating about his bachelorhood - some blamed it on a failed affair though I could not, for the life of me, imagine this grump of a human being ever smiling at someone, let alone falling in love.
Unicorn despised idling, and laughter and gestures of affection. He had a strange nonchalance towards kids of all shapes and sizes, his nephews and niece included. He seldom spoke, except when addressing my grand mom for a second helping of rice or vegetables as she patiently waited at his table during his lunch. Unicorn ate like a bird - daintily picking on the fluffy rice sticking out of the spoon and cleared his plate without wasting a morsel of food.

Once in a while, as I idled away in the sky lighted living room, sitting crisscross applesauce on the stone- tiled floor that was grouted with uneven strips of cement, he used to stop and clear his throat like he wanted me to notice his presence in the room. I used to look up in an attempt to make eye contact - He would briefly look into my eyes and look away and hurry into the dining room to have his lunch.

" She should find better things to do with her time" He would speak to an imaginary being as my grandmother served him his meal "The girl squanders her time away" making sure that the conversation between him and his imaginary friend would be loud enough for me to eavesdrop on.

I was eleven and a half - a gawky little creature in pre-puberty. The aperture between my front teeth bothered me to no end, though the dentist assured my mom that it was just a matter of time that it would disappear. I was in a hurry to get rid of it. Just like I was in a hurry to grow at least a couple inches less as tall as Farah, that middle-eastern looking, drop dead gorgeous, most famous girl from the middle school who, owing to my huge misfortune, shared my class and bench with me. Unicorn scared me - but he intrigued me more than he scared me. I would sit on the bench trying to pronounce the tongue twister of a new word out loud as I'd read the Chronicle and notice Unicorn's shadow and peek at him through the corner of my eyes, still pretending to read. He would clear his throat and glide past me in his awkwardly agile gait.

To be continued.

Wednesday, October 07, 2009

New reads

The book was on the BN bestseller list for a long time - for a reason. Utterly optimistic and beautifully written. One of those books that you finish off in a go - even if it means you are skimping on your beauty sleep.

The predecessor of a chick-flick romantic comedy. Reading a British author made me realise how Americanized my English became over the past decade. Good for a weekend on a porch. Light heated, cliched - but fun.

The most remarkable thing about the book is the author - who penned it when he was 21 - Ben Shapiro, all of 25 years now is a man with strong values and will, though he came across as a little prejudiced towards the "Democrat" presidents and wannabes. Easy read - thoughtful, thought provoking and relatable to the "Indian" mindset.

You cling to my clothing
Like an extension of my being.
Your smiles and your tantrums
Amuse me to no end.
You fill my house
And my heart with a special light.
You give me happiness
In abundance.

Tuesday, October 06, 2009

Dress-up.

The other day, when entering into an enthralling retail therapy at walmart to load some daily essentials, I saw an older lady stride gracefully ahead of me - she wasn't your average older lady, may be she was, I am not sure, but she didn't seem like one, or dressed like one I should say. Her pants and tunic were a rich, deep purple, a hue that could put our own Barney the dinosaur's shade to shame - and her hat was an elaborate red, looking like a disguised Christmas tree sitting on carefully curled blond tresses - sequins, feathers and all that. I thought "Red Hat society" and wanted to approach the lady and say a nice thing or two about how gorgeous she looked had it not been for the burden of lugging along a 30 pound toddler on my hip and pushing the over sized cart. There was no way I could keep pace with her without running after her and making her feel stalked.
I gave up glancing longingly at the satchel purse she was carrying on her arm - a basket weave purple and red, made out of the seat belt material that I once saw advertised in a mag as practically indestructible and the current trend.
The lady, the attire and the accessories alerted my like a can of coke and I chanted the name "red hat society" in my mind like it were a mantra.
I give myself a lot of credit for psychic abilities. I was once told by a psychic (no I didn't make this up) that I was like her in a desperate attempt to make me agree to get a reading. I did not cave in By the way! Anyway, the psychic abilities in question are being discussed since the name "Red hat society" was something I'd heard while flipping channels and landed up on the shopping channel which is a very safe and entertaining option for time killing. I heard the show host mention the name red hat society and didn't hang around enough to figure out what it was.
Anyway, this lady, as I'd learned consulting Google later on, is indeed an ostentatiously proud member of the red hat society, a group of older ladies who dress in purple outfits and red hats and meet up for socials. Wikipedia listed the origin and how the society came into being. I was very much amused by the creativity and zeal behind the idea of dressing up like little girls would, in an attempt to pretend play, in a self-reminder sort of way, that no matter how old we get, we always hold on to the child in us. During my initial days in the USA, I was endlessly fascinated by the idea of celebrating Halloween by dressing up and actually going on the streets asking for candy! The whole idea was so out of the box - kind of like something a person like me would think of - spooky, and crazily funny. When I took a stroll on the culde-sac and sported moms and dads in costumes like pirates and Greek princesses, I had a feeling of taking a time machine and going back in time to watch fantasy characters. The whole experience was out of the world and one of a kind.
Dressing up holds a very symbolic meaning to me - unconsciously, we put up an external appearance in a 'look at how I am feeling' sort of way. We dress up for celebrations, dress down for shopping and undress - well, you get the idea - I was talking about showers dirty minds! LOL.

rated pg 13.

Which brings us back to the red hat society. It seems that ladies under 50 need not apply - or may be they could, if they are willing to be under age and wear pink hats.
I wish I had the creativity to think of red bikinis - I meant sarees - or salwars. Okay, forget it:-)) I am happy I have a blog entry which doesn't look like a kid going trick or treating - or so I believe - you are free to disagree ;-))

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Nonsense.

What do you blog about when you actually have nothing blog worthy? What do you blog about when the laptop is broke and the pictures you uploaded are in an inaccessible hard drive?? What do you blog about when the pleasure centers in the brain crave for hot chocolate and moist cakes and your bathroom scales is screaming in horror every time you step on it??
What do you blog about when the toddler puts a ban on 'laptopping' and insists on sitting on you head every time you open the slow functioning, prehistoric 'substitute laptop' that dies the moment the electricity plug unplugs?? Does it help your creative juices to flow when your Brain is slug as a snail and your thoughts are as creepily slimy? When the Blue bird comes hopping on the dandelion laden lawn with drying patches like a bald head and looks around for food, it kind of reminds you about your own quest of finding a ponderable thought to think aloud and to blog about.

Say what do you -? When the block happens to a writer as petty as you??

Quote

Being modern is an attitude, not an attribute - Aarti's mom.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Never failing!

On a day to day basis, a lot of things disappoint me - not that I am hard to please, may be a little I am, LOL, but when my hubby doesn't call if he is getting later than the time he mentioned or when Aarti wants to go on a Telly marathon I get it - disappointment - loud and clear. Now, there are things that never disappoint me - like A R Rahman's music. His music always makes me feel better, livelier and happier. Just the other day, when the slow, solo number Dheemi Dheemi in Deepa Mehta's 1947 Earth (performed by Hariharan) was playing in Santu's car stereo, I gazed out of the window and found the otherwise mundane and blah looking hills covered with dried grass very very beautiful. I almost felt a dopamine kind of surge that is associated with being in love. I was relaxed, happy and strangely content at the end of a jam-packed, monotonous day. All due to a random Rahman composition. The song, along with unexplainable joy bought with it a series of reminiscences - The way I listened to the album on repeat whole day when it debuted and the way Rahul Khanna swept my world off my feet with his charm and good looks and the way the lyrics and the rendering of the lyrics made me feel perpetually in the feeling of realising being in love.
I had to dissect the experience in my usual signature way and I pondered over the lyrics. They say that 'Your body is a sensual and soft smell, and when you are near me, how can my heart not get enticed??' Okay - this is a loose translation, kind of like a 'think aloud' admiration of how well the physical attraction of a courtship amalgamates with the emotional attachment to a person. Curiosity led me to check out how the song was pictured. It was the usual, no frill, artsy Deepa Mehta way where Nandita Das and Rahul Khanna (sigh) ride doubles on a bicycle in what seems to be an endless journey thru blah surroundings. In my own imagination, I envisioned a slow motioned run of the Heroine thru the woods while the Hero sits on the grass gaping admiringly at her. May be a Johar or a Chopra would have done justice to the hopelessly romantic number - and no offense to the realistic Mehta style.
Anyway, I just seem to have realised that a physical aspect to a man woman attraction is almost like the soul of a relationship. Is it not this extra element that distinguishes our relationships with our friends/siblings from that of our loves?? And to celebrate it, we have the likes of Rahman, Akthar and Bhansali. If you want to feel a soul stirring joy, listen to the song - I promise - it won't disappoint!

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Balderdash in the attempt of rhyming.

I love fresh flowers in my vase
And my daugher's warm embrace.
I love painting my finger nails
and Department store sales.
Sales that have steep discounts
So that they don't empty honey's bank accounts.

I love well made meals.
And sparkly high hells.
Birds in my backyard make my day
they fly in to fly my blues away.
The Telly brings its happiness too
While I watch the re-run of Friends
And my kiddo watches Winnie the pooh!


I like smiles on faces
and meeting people in new places.
Travelling I love as well
as long as there is no farewell
That needs to be said to new found friends
when the joyful journey ends.


I love singing songs
writing poems and sing alongs.
My blog, I like scribbling here
As much as it might appear.
But one thing makes me as glad as can be
Whether you agree or disagree -
I like your comments
So keep them coming
and I shall find more things I love
In the process of a writer becoming!

ROFLOL.

It's late night and I obviously need sleep:=))

Monday, September 14, 2009

All I want.

I tucked away the baby tooth
Wrapped in a tissue
Under my pillow.
And made a wish, not for money!

The fallen eyelash
Was collected with care
Placed on my left hand
And blown away gently -
I made a wish, not for fortune.

The rainbow appeared pretty and bright
I made a wish as I shut my eyes tight
Not for a name, not for Fame.

Each year till I grew up
Old enough and impure too -
I wrote a note and made a wish
For Santa to deliver on Christmas eve.
I wished not for toys or gifts

As I blew out the birthday candles
And counted my years and blessings
I made a wish - but not for jewels
Or cars or vacations.

The shooting stars appear now and then
Prompting me and tempting me
With a promise that my wish be granted
And so I wish, but not for success.

I wish upon everything wishable
I wish I wish with all my heart
Not for Gold, nor silver too -
All I want is simple and true
It's love and laughter and being with you!

The fairer sex, the weaker Sex!!

I have a obsessive compulsive disorder - of following the copy and jingles of TV commercials. As a kid I used to sing for an audience in my class, the now obliterated Cadbury's Dollops Ice cream commercial. "Say Lops" - it goes and ends up in a sexy male voice concluding "Don't just say ice cream - say Lops" LOL

Recently another jingle for Walmart caught my ear. A husky female voice sings


- How lovely to be a woman
The wait was well worth while
How lovely to wear mascara
And smile a woman's smile -

while the focus lies on women of all ages applying makeup and choosing from the brands at Walmart. Indeed, I realize!, that it is lovely to be a woman. To have endless options in dressing, accessorizing and making faces up while the males around us can at the most have options for their laptop bags, dress shoes that come in shades of brown and black and probably sunglasses and wrist watches. The fairer sex seems to have a royal treatment in this department - the getting dressed department. But as I sing the catchy tune of walmart commercial while stirring the streamed rice, I realised that being a woman is not always lovely, or about wearing mascara or even smiling - since being a woman can be a vulnerability that can be exploited. A pain than can be excruciating depending on what part of the world you are fortunate or unfortunate enough to have taken birth in.

Consider genocidal Darfur for instance, where rape is used as a weapon to terrorize women and entire communities. Sadly enough, no woman or girl is safe there, or some of the male dominated countries where women are more of wall flowers or door mats or meagre channels of having male heirs. Sadly enough, the instinct to look at women as objects to satiate sexual hunger is predominant in all cultures and countries. It is still unsafe for women to travel alone after a certain time of night, no matter where she lives. Women are looked down upon as sexual objects and not as human beings.Birth of girl children is mourned - All this in the current day and age, very very sadly.

As I ponder about how much fun a woman has shopping for shoes and handbags, I wonder how many women out there actually walk miles bare feet and lead lives without ever knowing that they could have their own handbags to carry their money. On one hand I see the four friends in Sex and the city, living empowered lives and looking for love and lust in the big Apple and on the other I read about sexually assaulted underage girls in Godforsaken places like Darfur. While I feel extremely fortunate and blessed to have the privilege to think my thoughts and live my life on my terms and not on the man's that I am married to, I feel the necessity to reach out and give something to the other human beings of my sex. Please make a difference - donate to educate a girl child at www.ashanet.org or to one of those UN relief camps in Sudan or just think of dropping off your outgrown wardrobe at a local abused woman shelter. Reach out and help and then putting on mascara or wearing stilettos becomes optional, since feeling good is the beginning of being beautiful.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Baba, the Blog Baba...

Mr. Amithab Bachchan, the man himself and my Blog idol and Blogbaba - as I fondly call him replied to my comments to his 506th post, two of them actually, that I posted on the same date - comments to his 506th post on september 9th 09.

laxmi addanki says:
September 9, 2009 at 10:02 pm
Blogbaba -
Been waiting for this since your last post

Much love
L addanki.


ab says:
September 10, 2009 at 5:22 pm
waiting for what .. another post well here it is …



laxmi addanki says:
September 9, 2009 at 10:08 pm
Don’t fret about the Urban Legend history of stanford Blogbaba - Sometimes the underlying message is more important than whether it is a fact or a fiction. Our elders tell us lots of stories - we get the message but dont really bother to check whether thier anecdotes are facts or fiction. Sometimes we derive more pleasure in finding other’s mistakes than our own. LOL. When you call us your family, the need to explain your genuine mistakes ceases.

Your messages are always precious. I cant get enough of them.

Luv
L addanki.



ab says:
September 10, 2009 at 5:30 pm
thank you yes .. it is good to read the good even if there is error