Free Sex

O! You wish! This post has NOTHING to do with sex. The reason I called it that is because I checked my analytics data for the last few months and noticed that the post "Hardcore" had the most number of visitors. It also *shockingly* had the highest bounce rate. O! they must have been SO disappointed when they read the post. So this is a dig at all you peops looking for porn and landing on this blog.

Ironically enough this blog is about the latest book I am reading (which also has nothing to do with sex... yet.) Its the autobiography of Gandhi called "Gandhi- An Autobiography. The Story Of My Experiments With Truth." So far its uninspiring. Though I might have just left it at a very critical juncture and so my follow up comments maybe drastically different. Anyway, for those interested I can give you a gist. Gandhi was a very very boring young boy, if such a thing be possible. Apparently he never lied. He was from a vegetarian family but ate meat because he thought it would make him strong enough to oust the British from India (endearing!) He got married at the age of 13 and I think had sex right about then too. He refers to himself as a very lusty young boy. I think he also fathered a child when he was in his teens. His wife had one miscarriage before their first born.

The tone of the book is somewhat contrived. Maybe that was the requirement back in the day. He seems to be trying to be very honest but I find some of the examples disturbing. There are numerous incidents of him ending up in whorehouses and being completely dumbfounded and shocked and ashamed and never participating in anything "sinful." Commendable... but I have met boys who are as naive as they come who haven't ended up with prostitutes as many times as Gandhi had. Suspect. Maybe its just the girl in me thats suspicious of this repeated folly. I am a stern believer that if you make a mistake once - you are about average. You make it twice - you probably are a slow learner. When you make the mistake a third time - you ought to go to hell in a hand basket.

Academically too he isn't all that I imagined him to be. Seems like a confused youngster who went to England and spent his family's money on clothes and trying out different kinds of vegetarian food and travelling and eating atop the Eiffel tower. All I am going to say here is: glad he got that out of his system so he could concentrate on more important things later in life - unlike our ministers in India today. O! for those of you wondering - no he didn't go to either Oxford or Cambridge. In fact he never even graduated college. He took the bar and became a barrister.

How did he end up in South Africa? Because he couldn't find any employment in India. On his return to India he seems to be stuck in between fancying himself an Englishman but being of Indian blood. This seems to hinder his progress in Bombay as a barrister. Also I have to mention that after all the money, time and effort his family puts into him he is unable to speak in the court of law! Obviously its a problem if you want to be a lawyer but cant speak up. So he heads to South Africa,

Another bone of contention I have to draw with him is: it seems like his wife is always an afterthought in his life. And I mean - ALWAYS. None of his decisions involve her. It seems to me that the only times he remembers her are when he ends up in compromising situations with prostitutes.

Phew! Had to get that out of my system. What do you know... this post has more about sex in it that I thought it would. I will post my reactions about the book more often. For those of you wondering - I am still a Gandhian. 

Men.. le sigh!

Background - Me trying to tell a story while the boy is completely jet lagged. He keeps falling asleep and I keep trying to wake him up. Telling him about my get together with two of his guy friends from high school - N and T. Both very heterosexual south Asian men.

Me: So then T and N and me went for a walk.
BF: hmmm... (clearly disinterested and half asleep)
Me: We bought a tonne of groceries.
BF: hm.. (hhmmss are getting shorter)
Me: We made truffles for dessert for thanksgiving
BF: (no response)
Me: Then N f***ed T.
BF: (Eyes shot wide open)

On repeating the story to the two men T and N

T: Lol.. what?
N: Ok, I need to know.. who F***ed whom?

Things I Want To Bitch About

First, people who have lame blogs (similar to mine) but proceed to publicize it with great gusto on Facebook.
Second, people who then comment on the sheer genius of these lame blogs thereby encouraging said lame blogger even more.
Third, people who make spellings bloopers in official emails. Even while using Outlook.. the damned thing has a spell checker for crying out loud!
Fourth, People who borrow money and never return it.
Fifth, those who expect you to entertain them and constantly say: I am bored. I am restless. Here is what I have to say to you - get a life, an imagination or at least a home entertainment system.
Sixth, people who talk to themselves while working in a small office space- ALOUD! Egad!
Seventh - couples who constantly talk about each other in front of each other to a third person.
Eighth - people who repeat the same stories everytime you meet them. I will excuse people who are above the age of 70 who do this. Everyone else - I have a healthy intolerance for repetition. By which I mean I could at some point be guilty of assaulting a repeat offender.
Ninth - those that start pinging/IM'ing and after the first 'hi' just disappear. Are you doing this for laughs? No, seriously... what would you do if I showed up at your door, rang the doorbell and ran away and hid?
Last (for now) people who try to walk faster than me. Are you trying to give me a heart attack? You know I can't bear to be the slow walker. Even if I am walking home after a 10hr work day. So if you walk faster than me I will have to run. Then you are just going to think I am bonkers! This is such a lose lose situation.

Things I Learned In The Last Few Years

These are the things I learned since I moved to the US:

1. Doing my own laundry
2. Avoiding talking to people while doing laundry
3. Eating by myself- alone
4. Eating by myself even when people around me aren't eating
5. Not getting shocked at people who eat without offering
6. Drinking to get drunk
7. Getting groceries, cooking and doing dishes
8. Sucking it up!
9. Checking www.weather.com like a pansy everday
10. Sending cards to people who matter
11. Saying thank you (more than neccessary)
12. Breakfast can be had for dinner
13. Making a cheesecake and making crepes
14. There is no such thing as too much exercise
15. There is no such thing as too much food
16. There is no such thing as too much...
17. Ice-cream can be had with root beer though it makes both of them taste disgusting
18. A hike is a really tough walk
19. Sometimes shoes and bags can cost more than jewelry
20. Everything is recyclable and disposable

The Ball Inside The Nail Polish Bottle

As a child I always waited for my Ma's nail polish to run out so I could empty the bottle and find that little enigmatic ball that made an irresistible ticking noise when I shaken. Little did I know that nail polishes never run out. They either dry up or get old and boring.

I would wait for that half glass of Fanta or Coca Cola post-lunch on winter afternoons with unparalleled anticipation and excitement. They were special because we couldn't buy them at any store in India and my uncle would have to sneak it past customs when his ship docked in one of the ports. Now I worry about the high fructose corn syrup in my soda and can't remember the last time I had a soda.

As I crawled into bed in school I always snuck in my story book and read it with my torch light till I ran out of batteries (which was always too soon.) Then I waited for the matrons to go to bed and read under the night light. Now, taking up a book and reading it is an ordeal. Mostly because the last few books I read (Atlas Shrugged, A Fine Balance and From Beirut to Jerusalem) have transported me to another world, but not quite the world I lost.

When someone told me I had a bad sun burn I would check in the mirror to try and see what they saw. I never realized whether they were right or wrong. Today I apply sunscreen before leaving the house and carry a tube in my bag.

Mango shakes in the evenings have been replaced by adult shakes at Ted's Bulletin. Mommy's pizza has been replaced by Papa John's. Long drives have been replaced with long metro rides. So much of the child in me is gone that sometimes the memories feel like the little ball inside the nail polish bottle. They tick if you shake the bottle but thats the only remnant.

May 9th, 2011

“If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story.”

Orson Welles