The room-mate blues

Being a poor graduate student in USA, living situations left a lot to be desired. And being a woman engineer, I thought looking for a room-mate (pref. female) was an ordeal. Little did I know what was going to follow…

There are a lot of room-mates I’ve come across... some my own and some of my friends’. Each with their own brand of antics and eccentricities…

The Radically Religious
The kind that won’t allow anyone to speak while prayer is in progress, until the lamp in the alter has gone off or anywhere there’s an agarbatti. Needless to say… a quiet household.

When the silence is finally broken and daily house duties are discussed, you discover that - for religious reasons, she won’t cook before sunset on Mondays or Wednesdays and after sunset on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

‘Well… any restrictions on Friday?’

‘I think we should fast together on Friday. Will help in bonding.’

The Nodder
The kind that nods so frantically every time you bring up a chore, the eagerness touches you. But, it’s all nod and no muscle (except the ones in the neck)!

Soon, the dirty dishes overflow out of the sink and onto the window-sills and the fridge preserves molds and some very questionable liquids.

Finally, you dump out the contents of the fridge as well as the dishes into a couple of trash bags.

‘Could you take the trash out?’

*nod nod nod*

It’s a girl thing…
The kind that thinks cleaning floors or the bathroom are not womanly duties.

‘Eeewwwwwwww’

Look out for a post titled ‘How the boys across the hall were tricked into menial tasks’

Me, myself and IIT
I have a lot of respect for IIT and its products. But, just because I didn’t study there don’t treat me like a dimwit. How come IIT doesn’t teach mutual respect?

This is the kind that brags her head off and (being from IIT) thinks it her duty to teach you the perfect way to turn on the stove or boil water and then proceeds to put an egg in the microwave!

Do you want me to describe the stink, the drips and the mess after it explodes… or are you in the mood for experiments?

The Angry Blogger
The kind that doesn’t believe in discussing issues face-to-face. Instead it culminates in an angry blog.

“Can’t believe that bitch.. how could she???....”

Hey, don’t accuse me… I did try to talk… when all failed… I blogged

The Furtive Ferret
The kind that is extremely compassionate as long as you’re around and the minute you’re absent – eats your food and uses that expensive lotion of yours.

Of course, when you notice the seventh can of coke disappear, you pose questions. All she does is shrugs innocently.

To avoid a hostile situation, you believe there lives a soda-loving-ghost in your trash can.

The Cleopatra Kind
The kind that spends every minute of her livelong day primping and preening in front of the mirror and bathroom sessions last an eternity.

By now, you’re the expert at holding back those urges to pee. What really irks is the sub-kind that does all of the above, but claims not to. She claims to waking up with hair sprayed and eyelashes tinted.

Of course, these beauty treatments leave no time for trivial tasks like washing the dishes or flushing the toilet.

‘What?! And ruin my manicure???’

The Hygienically Impaired
The kind that showers once in a blue moon and dirties the bar of soap instead of getting clean. The apartment is laden with her body odor and unmentionables take over every inch of the bathroom.

And there is an ‘occasional best-friend roomie’ who turns out to be your extended family and someone you can really count on. It’s that hope that keeps me going on.

Room-mates – can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em!

Rained

Had written this a few years ago in India... in the hot and humid Bombay summer! Thought about these lines once more – after a couple of summer days here hit 100 F and an occasional thunderstorm rolls in to relieve us from the sweat, sultriness and lethargy.

The sun glared at the earth,
Causing the latter all but mirth;
The land burned alike a kiln;
That's when it started to begin
The sun commenced to disappear
And a cloud shed a tear
Gently falling to the ground,
Dampened a little spot around.
With a smile and a hopeful eye,
I looked up toward the sky;
I watched clouds blanket the space,
As the raindrops kissed my face.
A flash of light, a loud roar,
Pursued by the downpour.
The rain spattered singing a song
And the trees danced along.
A cool breeze blew about
The heat routed and driven without.

We mallus are a funny breed

We mallus are a funny breed!
Coconut oil is what we need -
We pour plenty into our hair;
And any food we do prepare;
The land of coconuts indeed!

We mallus are a funny breed!
The elephant - our royal steed
A part of every ceremony;
Fed - until not one is puny;
God save us in a stampede!

We mallus are a clever breed!
Education is our creed -
We rant and rave;
Of every brain-wave;
With a great deal of conceit!

We mallus are a hairy breed!
A bearded man - it is decreed!
Stubbled and bristled;
Wouldn’t know if he whistled
The razor blade has no need!

We mallus are a verbose breed!
We talk at an incredible speed
Mis-pronouncing every vowel
Until you throw in the towel
Then to the consonants we proceed!

We mallus - what a funny breed!
Our curly hair is just like tweed -
We primp, we press and we tweak;
We style and try to turn it sleek;
But to the frizz we must concede!

Remembering Ammamma...

My grandmother was abso-flippin’-lutely the coolest - especially considering she was 80. Apart from the typical grandmotherly caring, she would enjoy loud music (and dancing once in a while); knew that us young folk like to follow fashion trends; and understood that people just fall in love and families should accept it and be supportive! Gman and I often talked about how we wouldn’t be surprised if we saw Ammamma cruise by on a skateboard wearing multicolored bermuda shorts.

Unfortunately, this coolness factor seemed to have skipped a generation. My cousins and I had mastered the art of begging and groveling to our parents for every basic need - Eminem cds, tank tops, and the occasional rock show! Strategies were swapped and we decided that if we were ever to, accidentally, fall in love... it would have to remain a clandestine affair. Ammamma would be the only confidante!

Much younger, I had lived with her for a couple of years, back in Madras. And later, she lived with me in Bombay. Hundreds of Malayalam movies and scores of chess matches later, we knew we shared a very special bond.

This day, 2 years ago, Ammamma passed away... leaving behind memories of her smile and an unimaginable void. Poetry was my way of coping with my grief.

I need someone –
To lend me a shoulder to cry
To wipe a tear off my eye
Someone to hold tight and sigh
Someone to help me bid good-bye

I need someone –
Not to preach and teach
Nor to make a speech
But silently understand my grief
And the pain in my heart so deep

When one has been
A part of my lifetime
From bed-time stories and silly rhymes
Through my lows and at my prime
Can the void be filled by time?

I need someone –
Who can share my sorrow
And help all the emotions flow
Pain, regret, & a feeling so hollow
Because a very special person is no more.

Stumped!

Cricket commentary

“And it’s a FOUR... touch of outswing... supremely timed... to the extra cover boundary... he opened the face so well... hardly appeared to hit the ball yet it flew across the turf...”

I’d gotten used to hearing those words over and over again... sometimes loud, sometimes cackled. I’d gotten used to being completely ignored or getting single-syllable replies (if I’m lucky) from people ogling at TV screens. And this goes on for 5 days at a stretch sometimes!

I’d gotten used to cricketers jumping out at me from magazines and newspapers and selling me everything from cars to mixed-fruit jams to the very shirts on their backs! It’s a world where the duck is not something on the menu, the slip is more than an undergarment and the the third man has nothing to with a kinky love affair!

I don’t hate cricket... hate is too strong a word... but I am not crazy about it either. Sure, I watch a match or two, shake my fist at the screen once in a while, clap a bit and nibble at my nail during the last couple of overs. But, if I don’t watch a cricket match ever again... I wouldn’t complain either.

This confession of mine has often been hazardous to my well-being and I have had to face the consequences of opening my big mouth. I have been shunned, declared a pariah and one person in particular (who carried Sachin Tendulkar’s cricket stats in his wallet) said that it was immoral of me!

I’m now in a land where cricket is still an insect and my morality isn’t questioned over the lack of match viewing. I thought there would be less madness.

But the cricket-lover species here is incredible. I can understand downloading videos of matches and looking at photographs... but when they’re staring at numbers on an online scorecard all day and still call it exciting... that’s just taking it over the edge! I now have to get used to being completely ignored by people refreshing the webpage on their computer screens!

-----------------------------------------------

Apparently this frustration has gone on pretty long...

Here’s something I wrote at age 12...

I find Cricket
a very funny game..
but everyone goes crazy
at the mention of its name !

The bowler starts the show
by throwing a ball at the bat
the batsman flips it into the air
the one who gets it yells "Howzzat!"

The batsman tries to defend
three wooden sticks.
and if he hits the ball too hard
everyone shouts aloud "Six !"

The Umpire has no job
other than waving his hand.
but the players obey only him
and none other on land.

I wonder whether I will
ever understand this game.
but everyone goes crazy
at the mention of its name !

How Chemical Engineering...

took over my life!

• My towels are categorized by absorption capacity
• I dress according to the heat exchange capacity and porosity of my clothing
• I have personalized safety goggles. And the marks they leave on my face are so becoming!
• A personalized hard hat is next on my shopping list.
• I read up the difference between condensed milk and evaporated milk
• I know the direction the water swirls when I flush the toilet
• When I talk of pumps, they happen to be more centrifugal than stylish!
• I point to everything in sight (the paint on the wall, the clothes someone wears, even their toothbrush) and say “A Chem Engg probably did that”!
• Next, I talk about how versatile we are... making everything from a potato chip to a micro-chip!
• I took courses in stripping and various kinds of beds and the only thing sleazy about it was the amount of homework!
• When I add oil to boiling pasta, I think of surface tension
• I study my hairspray’s flammable properties
• I use nail polish remover for more than just removing nail polish
• I wash my hands before I go to the bathroom (occupational hazard?)
• I’m high on solvent fumes most of the time
• I refer to roaming aimlessly as Brownian movement
• Half the time my significant other hasn’t the foggiest idea what I talk about!

And if you thought I’m really into the subject... here’s a review of Perry's Chemical Engineers' Handbook by Eric Gunther from New York , 18 October, 1998

"A riveting book from start to finish! Perry has outdone himself once again. The seventh edition is even more of a show-stopper than the previous editions. I read this book from cover to cover in one sitting, unable to put it down for a moment, not even to relieve myself! The molecular weights were so accurate and the heats of reaction made my spine tingle. Once I reached the section discussing distillation and tray efficiencies I knew I was hooked. I won't give away the ending but it's definitely a shocker. Bravo to Mr. Perry's and I am counting the days to the release of your 9th edition!"

If tomorrow never comes

If tomorrow never comes
Would I have regrets
Would I be satisfied
Would there be thoughts unspoken
Would there be deeds never done

What would be the last I’d say
Would the words be happy or sad
Would it be out of contemplation
Or just a simple goodbye

Have I spread smiles in my life
Or feelings of woe
Have I done all that I can
To help the ones I know

Have I said all I needed to say
And listened to all said to me
Have I told the ones I love
All that they mean to me

If tomorrow never comes
Would I have regrets
Would I be satisfied
Would all my thoughts be spoken
Would all the deeds be done

Terror

Tuesday Terror has hit my favorite city!!

Bombay doesn't deserve this! After being plummeted by rains, and vandalized by politics, our trains and the people in them were brutally ripped apart!

I feel a lump in my throat.... This is the city that made me who I am. Strong, resilient and never failing to help others. It taught me to dream big, to win some, to lose some, and bounce back up even when my luck is down. You can take me out of Bombay... but not Bombay out of me!

I just hope that Bombay and all those injured/killed by such an attack receive justice. I hope that this doesn't turn out to be just a few days of "high alert" and then forgotten into heaps of official files. I hope there will be enough investigation and appropriate measures taken.

The city, I know, will never lose hope. Bombay will only come out of it more resilient. And Bombaiites will continue to smile through the tough times, and help each other through the rough times.

Spare me your trickery

A big smile; a friendly wave;
So wonderfully well-behaved;
But the minute I turn away -
Out come the claws to deprave!

There’s no evil ploy I devised,
Nothing ever said in vice,
I can’t see, I can’t surmise
Why I am being criticized!

Is it that we once disagreed?
Or is it just plain jealousy?
Did I cause distress to thee?
Or bring about an allergy?

You’d never know all of me -
My joys, my sorrow, my anxiety!
There’s much more to what you see
Or what you think you do perceive

So I pray – just let me be
And spare me all your trickery
There’s no need to befriend me
And no need to make me your enemy!

From Romeo and Juliet...

From Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare...

'What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.'

A person by any other name, unfortunately, smells the same too!

_

The room-mate diaries

I came to a place unknown,
Far away and all alone;
Full of hope and a li’l fear;
Trying not to shed a tear;

When the roommate came along,
Braggadocio all day long;
A tiny brain, an ego so big,
Living as dirty as a pig;

Found no solace at this abode -
Always sad or just plain bored.
And at times painfully wry
The abuses were let to fly!

The lease can’t last too long;
I have to be a little strong;
And if my nerve starts to drop -
There’s a couch at the coffee shop!


(I don't wish to reveal on this blog when and with whom such a traumatic incident took place. Call me up and we’ll gossip about it instead!)

Superman et al.

Watched Superman Returns a couple of days ago. One Yahoo! User said - It's Brilliant, It's Superb, It's Superman! Frankly, I didn't think it was Superb! But, I didn't think it was bad! Well, there was the complete lack of chemistry between the Man of Steel and Lois Lane, Lex Luthor's preposterous ploy and the Indian actor's jarring silence.... but, I still didn't think it was too bad. Although, I must say - Christopher Reeve was sorely missed!

There's always a charm to a Superhero - the courage, the nobility and abilities that surpass the normal human being. So what if you had to live a lie, never fall in love and be on call 24/7! I'm sure the aerial views and the adulation make up for it!

Got talking about Superheroes and noticed that women tend to gravitate towards our friendly neighborhood Spider-man (The arachnophobes just nodded along for the fear that they might not fit in). Got me thinking... is it 'cuz he's just the boy next door - juggling his personal struggles with his heroic exploits. Is there a humanness we can relate to? Is it the up-side down kiss? Or is it the timid guy open to henpecking-potential?

Superman - the most influential and popular superhero of DC Comics - tends to come across as far too noble and much too invulnerable. I'd never think I was good enough for him... would suffer from self-esteem issues... and would probably drive myself paranoid just thinking of him around that Wonder Woman ($!&#)! And I'm sure my Superman and I wouldn't be able to afford couples' counseling on what the Daily Planet pays!

My Significant Other thinks Batman is the Ultimate Superhero. He seems like the rich, snooty businessman type. Batman that is, not my SO. My SO is not at all snooty and unfortunately not very rich either. Sigh. Anyway, Batman doesn't possess superpowers. He makes use of detective skills and technology in his war on crime... and did I forget to mention millions of dollars? I crave the appeal of someone fighting abjection. And the dark side didn't bode too well with the female audience. Sorry, I said - and the ladies agreed. Crushed, my SO now wished he had an invisibility cape or the power to blend in with the walls.

He may not have a cape, but he does have superpowers. (.. now it's my SO I'm talking about..). He has his wit, his humor, his understanding and his charisma. He makes his funny faces, tells his jokes, gives me a bear hug and rescues me from my problems, my worries, my daily glitches and such little demons that lurk around my reality – just as a Superhero should! In the contest for the best superhero, my vote goes to him!

The procrastinator's poem

Today never looked as opportune

As tomorrow, next week or next june

Ripe with potential

So later is preferential

'Cuz today's just gone too soon

With copious chores to partake

A million excuses I make

In attempts to circumvent

I complain and lament

My will power is staring to flake

I hear we mustn't make haste

'Cuz that would lead to waste

That's why I don't worry

There's no cause to flurry

Slow, but steady wins the race

My time - I do not squander

I contemplate and ponder

About Helen of Troy

Or the capital of Illinois

Or wherever my head wish wander

Now, instead of trying to shirk

I better get back to work

This is the cause

For this little pause

(Will pen the rest next week...)

The Indian Panorama & Aamchi Mumbai

I love telling people that I'm from India. The land of mystery and intrigue. But, I must admit that I absolutely hate it when Americans and other Westerners ask me if I travel on elephants or eat snakes, just because one tribesman happened to do so. How’d they like it if I watched Ripley’s believe it or not and asked if they could all pop their eyes out or sleep with killer bees? Hmph!

Uhhh... where was I? O yes... India - a country just as scenic where the snow falls on the Himalayas as it is where the Indian Ocean flanked by two jubiliant seas washes up on Kanyakumari.

I love how there’s a million different languages we speak, hundreds of festivals we celebrate and scores of different ways that one can get married. The Indian Panorama. That’s what we celebrated in the November of 2004 – half a globe away from our homes. A re-make of Mile Sur Mera Tumhara.

And here's a re-mixed video of our performance (courtesy: moi)...
'Everybody Dance Now'
...also includes clips from plays performed.

(Info: I am the bharatnatyam dancer in pink. Only compliments will be accepted. Brutal honesty and such brickbats shall face my wrath)

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I come from Bombay(Now Mumbai). One of the largest cities in the world. You can go ahead and call us the rudest... but that’s just ‘cuz we don’t believe in superficial formality. It’s a city with a heart, with a pulse. I can’t imagine Mumbai without the hustle and bustle. Everyone has a goal – either lofty or just something to do for the day – but, everyone has one.

People don’t generally have the time to stand around and gawk at what you’re up to. If it’s interesting, you might acquire a couple of lingering glances... followed by a little shake of the head if you are one of those particularly disgusting people.

I think Bombay (oops... Mumbai.. don’t think I’m every gonna get used to that name) has a panorama of it’s own. The suit-clad business man, the temple priest in saffron robes, the fisher-woman, the social activist, the shimmering club-hopper, the tapori at the street corner, the college student in low-rise jeans, the air-conditioned sedan, the auto-rickshaw, the bajaj scooter carrying a family of five and their groceries – we are all Mumbai!! And we co-exist in maybe-not-the-greatest harmony... but it is marvelously harmonious nevertheless. Aamchi Mumbai – love it!!!

Gossip

My innocent little action
Created such a reaction -
Neither equal nor opposite
(As Newton once did admit)
As unpleasant as uterine contractions

Making a mountain of a mole hill
Is an art and needs the skill
To take a little piece of news
Adulterate and abuse
Until the subject is totally bedeviled

Tales carry through the grapevine
The original now redesigned
Around me they clutter
Tongues aflutter
With doubts I hate to illumine

In a bleak attempt to allay
This dreary state of disarray
I relocate to Shanghai
Away from their roving eye
Until they discover a brand-new prey

Orkutting

Just had an argument with my folks this morning about a photograph of my significant other and myself that I’d put up on orkut. Will not delve into the details... but it was amazing to find out how many people are on it... and how news (read: gossip) travels faster than the speed of light!

Surely you've been invited by someone to Orkut, and if you haven't yet, believe me, it's going to happen soon!

After being launched quietly in late January 2004, orkut managed to rack up over 2 million members in about 8 months. I don’t have info on latest statistics... but from what I see and conclude.. the membership has gone into orbit!!

With member profiles that range from the über-cool to the socially awkward; the eloquent to the grammatically impaired; the overtly religious to ones who can’t talk about anything but their genitalia!

The ‘do-gooder’ profiles...

“All I can say is that I am the kind of person. I do everything that my heart permit to my brain to make ur life shining.”

The ‘motivational’ ones...

“Rain drops falling from the sky have nothing in mind. No matter how tough the drop is, it still reaches its destiny! So be positive always.”

The ‘concise’...

“Male. Homosapien.”

And the plain confused...

“i don't want 2 go in future 4 the superb life and trying 4 the same i believe in god. be my friend and get a safe cupboard 4 u feelings without any locking key cause it's a matter of trust rt i love myself and u all. i m simple..but difficuilt 4 u to know me”

And among these millions of profiles, some of which are fake, cloned, dormant or orphaned, lurks an online dating site.

For those unsuccessful in their pursuit of love in the real world – an attempt to find solace in the virtual world.

“My ideal match: Decent looking (I mean presentable) woman. It would be nice if she is a little funny. She needn’t be extremely polite and respectful. Just that she should love ONLY ME.”

For some others - an exercise of vanity.

“Hi dis is DJ n kal shyam ko kya kar rahi hai mein yeah sab nahi puchunga becuz I’m sure by now you are drooling over me ....................so whaaaaaaazzzzzaaaap........”

And then there are the success stories and the almost-there-but-not-so-successful.

Although, I do think a large number is just out to find friends and maintain existing relationships in virtuality. And if you thought you’d enjoy such a virtual world in all its clemency, out come the pranks, ego-hassles and a little thing called news-getting-to-all-kinds-of-people-you-don’t-want-involved.

Yet there’s something addictive about it. An urge to know if you’ve been ‘scrapped’ or your profile been viewed. An urge to seek connection. An urge to be accepted.

The virtual world does have an alluring appeal - triggering the need to check in over and over again. Even asking our friends and significant others to check our books while they’re on their own self-obsessed journeys. And updating our profiles with every mood swing, every betrayed emotion and every change in our bowel movements!

And there are many that prefer the online interaction to the normal physical interaction in the real world. The potential for anonymity seems to bestow added confidence. You can’t kiss someone or be punched in the nose... but there sure is a lot u can do within the virtual boundaries!

This is why I feel that while these online sites transcend time and geographical boundaries, they seem to tie us down to computer terminals. Our leisure activities now include staring into our computer screens, instead of the old-fashioned hanging out with people in the offline world.

With the hundreds of online friends that we boast of, how many do we go to when we are sick or stressed? How many do we count as a confidante? With whom do we share our joys and sorrows? Isn’t that what friendship is all about?

In the name of social networking... are we just drifting apart?