Work on the go

We’re in 2023. At least I am. Not sure you are. Not sure if the world is.

In the age of ultra-, mega-, super-connectivity, I’m sitting in a local train trying to latch on to a cloud-hosted work document to finish something that I couldn’t finish at work. Yeah, unlike so many other days, I had a tight workday.

A tight workday basically means working through your shift with high levels of concentration. Also means giving yourself and your personal life not much importance during the workday. I suppose the corporate world would want more people to have more tight workdays, but I’m pretty darned sure that few people would want themselves to work tighter than they already are, which, in my opinion, is too tight.

Tangent: just realized that the word used for defining when you work seems to suggest that there would be variability, but in reality, it implies that there shouldn’t be variability. Ah, the irony of borrowed words for other purposes.

So I couldn’t find time to finish what I thought I should finish. Which is something that I feel perennially. And to make myself feel a little bit better, I try to extend my workdays at either end by making myself do more personal things during the work days. That is, a looser work day. Yeah, that does make me a loser because I’m someone who not only knows that what I’m doing is unhealthy, hell I even teach people at work to not do such stuff.

So, here I am, the loser, at the end of the tight workday, trying to make things looser by working beyond my shift. Because I feel better when I do this. A trait of losers, evidently.

The point that I’m trying to make, however, is that I’m on the go. Since the time I frustratingly stopped refreshing my browser, trying in vain load my cloud work document, and started typing this, I must have traveled about 15 kilometers. North to South on the Mumbai Suburban rail network. Flew (figuratively) from around the airport to the north of the original island. From the ‘burb to the ‘bay.

My reverse-faucet for accessing the internet is my phone, and Airtel, which promises a bunch of stuff including unparalleled connectivity across the nation, failed at a very basic 2023 task. Connectivity to the internet. That’s basic even in 2003 I would argue.

So the question is—are we really in 2023? Or is 2023 different for different people. Is my 2023 not the 2023 that was allocated to the place that I find myself in? And how is that fair? How is anything fair?

Tangent: Why the hell is fair, a racist word at best, used for implying that things are non biased toward anyone?

Two flashbacks and the present

Today was good despite it being terrible. Good because I was able to accomplish things despite some situations being totally stacked against me.

I had my regular therapy this morning. It was interesting because of the parallels that I’m drawing to the twins Rahel and Estha in the book ”The God of Small Things” by Arundhati Roy. In a nutshell, that book has somehow captured a bunch of experiences (including traumatic ones) in my childhood, and by reading it, I have kinda relived them and also gained perspective on how things are like for kids in Kerala.

I also realized that the twins are kinda my friends now. Imaginary or not, they are likely to understand and feel the stuff that I went through. Roy’s writing has also inspired me to get back to trying to write my own stories. You know, that thing I keep on trying to make happen, but it hasn’t yet. More on that later.

Sometime later in the morning, I decided that I’m going to take it easy with my physical therapy exercise schedule. Like taking the leg day off, and in my case it is literally taking both the leg days off.

Must have been the beers last night. Oh yeah, I did walk (cough, cough) over to a watering hole last night. Met up with friends from a team that I’m no longer working in, but sure I’m working with.

Why the italics and coughing, you ask? Because I limp/hobble instead of walk.

Okay. But why? Rather, how? And what physical therapy? What’s going on?

Well, well, well. I guess it is time to lay it all out here.

Nine weeks ago

Did I tell you that I’m very much into motorcycling? If I hadn’t, I really should write about it. It’s been going on for a couple of years. Serious stuff. Bought a Honda CB350 two years ago. Bought all the safety gear. Started riding long and regular. More like a mental feat than a physical one. Meditative and awe-inspiring. More on that later.

One bike is not enough for two riders with distinctly different everything, including riding style, temperament, and preferences. The second rider is J, of course. Yeah, he’s also into motorcycling. Pretty much has always been, but has finally turned a corner in terms of doing motorcycling seriously.

This meant borrowing someone else’s bike. Thankfully, my friend and band mate is a sweetheart, and he has been lending his bike for the last two years. But this was tiring, primarily because I had to pick up the bike from his place, which is about 1.5 hours from my place (in Mumbai traffic) and that added about 4 hours of extra ride time on an otherwise 10- to 12-hour riding days.

The solution was simple. Get another bike. So we did. But it was a bit of a rush, and the monetary transactions didn’t go through on the night of the first long ride with J riding with all the newly-bought safety gear.

So the night before, I did my 3-h schlepp to get my friend’s bike. And so we did what we have been doing for a few months.

But this time it was J’s ride. And my friend’s bike isn’t as fast (or safe) as mine. And I ride slower and safer than J. And J rides my bike. I can’t fuck up J’s first big ride. So I ended up making a risky decision with my friend’s bike jamming its brakes on me.

But wait, I was wearing protective gear, right? So no scratches on me. The bike’s got a few, but minor. But then what happened?

So I buckled my knee in an effort to quickly get back on the bike. The incident did happen on a very poor part of the road to Mahabaleshwar (it’s a gorgeous hill station on the Western Graters, approximately 200 km southeast of Mumbai), and there were trucks around, with one kinda heading toward me. So I must have panicked.

Long story short (not really, right) I had multiple-ligament tear of my left knee. This was about two months ago, and I underwent arthroscopic repair two weeks after the incident. Done by my junior from my alma mater, but not at the alma mater, but at a private hospital. Because it would be easier for J to take care of me.

It was painful. Especially the first two days and then in the first two weeks, and so on. J took care of me. Even during the difficult times. I was difficult to be with, and it was difficult for me to be with others, but it worked out.

I was on crutches or hopping in the first 6 postoperative weeks. A week ago, I started using a walking stick. You know, one of those modern ones.

In the 7 days since, I have tried to find excuses to step out of the apartment and walk. The newly unveiled Metro 2A did give me motivation, and so did the walk to the bar to meet my friends and have a couple of beers.

Cut to present

So yeah, I took it easy. My excuse was that I had other problems to solve. Like my relatively expensive MacBook Pro throttling every time I do anything related to video capturing or rendering. I have been in touch with both Apple Support and Logitech Support (cuz the camera’s from Logitech), and despite them both being helpful (or trying to be so), my problem remained.

So I had to figure shit out myself. And I reckoned it was a good enough reason to take it easy.

Also, I had a bunch of walking/hobbling to do. I had an off on Republic Day and my surgeon (my friend) was free to meet, and I wanted to see if he thought I could expedite my recovery.

So instead of doing physical therapy, I watched art lessons on YouTube. Got inspired.

Wait, what? Art? Since when?

Six weeks ago

I was in pain and I couldn’t do the stuff that I used to. So I decided to revisit sketching and painting (watercolors). Revisiting because I used to sketch my lecturers at Medical College, apart from sketching cats.

I (re)started small, but since then, I have gone on to purchase some basic/serious sketching/painting material. I even have a fanny back with art supplies. You know, to pain rocks and stuff on the go.

So far, my primary subject is Blu. In fact, just before I started writing this, I was sketching yet another bust shot of her.

Just like the 1.7 billion people around the world right now, I’m learning almost exclusively by watching YouTube. It’s pretty cool, I’ll say. The video medium does help especially in this case as I watch time lapses of the experts doing art.

Cut to present

So on my way switching between three lines of trains (two Metro lines and a suburban/local), I sketched. On the way back too.

I felt good. Sort of taking pride in listening to art instructors say stuff like, “sketch every day”, “fill up your sketchbook”, “take a sketchbook with you wherever you go” and all that jazz.

But that’s not the only thing. My surgeon/friend concluded that I can indeed start going a bit more aggressive with my transition to full weight-bearing, i.e., without assistance. That’s just great.

In between all of this, I did manage to grab dinner at the Mallu restaurant where I used to grab lunches/dinner when I was at my alma mater, mentoring my surgeon/friend. That felt nice.

And then I come back home and go through a complicate list of steps to try and un-throttle the MacBook Pro. Didn’t/hasn’t worked out. So my only way out seems to be a factory reset. And if that doesn’t work, oh lord, I don’t even want to think that I might need to buy yet another machine!

So in between all of this, I thought I should listen to my instructors’ advice, but on something that I haven’t been spending time on—writing.

And that’s why I’m writing—and presumably you are reading—this.

My life, in a nutshell

So my friend Ray asked me a seemingly innocuous question on Whatsapp.

Ray: "Hey buddy, what's happening?"

This is my rant as a reply:

"I'm busy with a bunch of things. Work, music, boyfriend, socializing, reading, learning, etc.

I have recently started following politics because of the increasingly worrying situation in India for minorities--sexual or otherwise. So I've subscribed to Indian Express, Mint, and India Today on my Kindle. That's about an hour of reading and comprehending/framing opinions.

Plus, I'm part of a book club. We just read Still Alice by Lisa Genova (about a middle-aged researcher diagnosed run early-onset Alzheimer's). The other members and the discussions are very intellectually stimulating.

On the side, I'm reading Harry Potter series, Dune (Frank Herbert), India: A History (John Keaye), etc.

Music scene has been busy with two bands being really active. One of them (SpaceHuggers), in which I'm the primary songwriter, is planning to record an album. So that's a lot of preparation and working on songs.

Work goes on as usual.

Plus, when you are seeing someone for a bunch of years, socializing with the respective friend circles also becomes a lot of "work." That takes up a whole bunch of evenings.

In the middle of all of this, I'm trying to find some time for myself. For example, I watched today's match. :)

Sorry for the rant but I had fun summarizing my life to you.

Performing in front of an unreceptive audience

Musicians are often requested to play/perform songs in a private party environment where they are basically a part of the party party and are not performing as such for the party. If you are lucky, people can be genuinely interested in your music. Most times, however, they just want a change in the flow of the party up until then. They also want to do something cool – like singing along while someone plays a guitar.

In either situation, you can get interrupted distracted by people being disinterested in the performance or, even worse, loud conversations. As a performing musician, I’m used to such experiences and I modify my performance accordingly. However, if someone else is singing when I’m playing the guitar, they often feel so dejected that they ask me to stop the performance.

There are two things wrong here. People talking when people are playing/performing itself indicates selfishness and lack of respect toward the performers. However, if performers reciprocate by stopping abruptly, they are just being selfish and being unprofessional.

So here’s my suggestion – do not stop in the middle of a song!

So what to do? As a preventive strategy, I wait until it’s the right time (or as late as I possibly can) to bring out the guitar. Once the initial fervor has settled down, I am quick to take the guitar back out of the party floor to avoid such experiences. When these interruptions become annoying, finish the song and slyly get to your drink and get involved in a conversation. If you can guage the audience before starting the song, don’t start it at all.

Once again, I’m not suggesting that you shouldn’t react to the audience. But please don’t stop midway through a song just because someone is talking loud.

Welcome to my strange mind

Parties are something that most people with at least a shred of extroversion look forward to. Even I, with my combination of introversion and social reclusiveness lurking in the background, look forward to parties as special gatherings where you find may find avenues for conversation that won't be available in a much more intimate setting.

Three weeks back, J had his birthday party at his apartment. There were about 15 people invited to make merry on the occasion. I was, as is usual in such situations, caught in a dilemma as to how long I should spend time with an individual or a group of individuals in conversations. I guess I want to be always on the move, thanks to a a mixture of my overenthusiastic host-itude, interest to explore options, and my hesitation to expose myself in in-depth conversations.

So I took the opportunity to carry around trays of the famous J cheese/onion dip and the assorted chips that go with it. This gave me options to introduce myself to strangers with warm introductions "Hey, would you like to try some of this? This is the dip that you keep hearing about." This would followed by the obligatory "Oh, you are so kind to bring it to us" and "Oh, wow. This is a very nice dip indeed" comments. Perfect social lubrication, if you ask me.

After hanging out with any particular group for a couple of minutes, I found that it's easy to slither out and seek another group and repeat the social rewards and positive reinforcement. Of course, I also used lines like "Can I pour you another drink?" to repeat the exercise of pleasantly detaching myself from conversations and getting these social rewards in return.

At the end of the night, during a conversation with J, I realized that I had hardly spent any time with people who might have wanted to spend more time with me. People from my workplace were all together in a group, which I paid as little/much attention to that I did to other groups.

I don't often feel like I need to meet people (even my friends) and have conversations with them. In fact, many people, including my dearest friends, have expressed their disappointment at how I don't make time for them. However, on occasions such as this, I often am able to assign myself a purpose/role (as a host and a nice guy), and thus am able to lubricate/sugarcoat these otherwise-daunting interactions.

During and after such parties, I am able to convince myself that spending time with these people is fun. This makes me ephemerally wish that I would have a more prolonged interactions with them at the party on other social occasions. But when it comes to executing this, I make myself so busy with other things that I hardly ever get myself involved in such situations.

Welcome to my mind. It's confusing, I agree. But that's how it works.

Life shouldn't be a series of things that need fixing

Life shouldn't be a series of things that need fixing.

— Krishna Kumar V. (@krishna_kumar_v) June 5, 2015

I can't believe my own life, which seems like a series of unfortunate events I'm being dragged through. Despite me planning and coordinating than most people I know, I am annoyed with the chaotic sequence of events.

After I returned after my vacation, I spent about a week staying over at the boyfriend's place. The first day after I returned, I spent almost half the day trying to put things away and sort things out at his apartment. I was overwhelmed by the things that seemed to be staring at me to get done, and I voiced my concerns to the boyfriend.

At work, things are generally smooth, but I am generally disappointed by people not pulling their weight in activities where I eventually need to do extra just to cover up for them.

When I came back to my apartment a few days back, I found that my TV tuner card was not working and my AC was not cooling well enough. I immediately started fixing things.

Two nights back, I went to the electronics store where I was told that they don't have a cheap replacement adapter for my card, and they asked me to come later. After a series of calls, I got my AC guy to visit and service my AC late the same night. After apparently servicing it, he said that it would work well for 6 to 8 months.

Yesterday night, I came back at 2 am after a rehearsal and found that the AC was not working. I spent the night in my very warm and uncomfortable apartment. Today morning, I called my AC guy who said that he would need to take a look at the unit when there is still daylight.

Temperature outside: 32C Temperature in my apartment: 35C Temperature at my desk in my kitchen: 40C #Mumbai

— Krishna Kumar V. (@krishna_kumar_v) June 5, 2015

After talking to my mangers at work and adjusting my work, I came home early to let the AC guy in. The usual guy sent two junior guys, who told me that there was something wrong with the unit and they needed to take it to their service center and fix it. They said it will at least take 24 hours. So no AC for tonight.

After they went with the unit, I called the electronics store to confirm that the replacement adapters had arrived. I started to the store -- of course, I couldn't find a rickshaw, thanks to chaotic mess Andheri West is. At the shop, I tried the adapters that they had ordered. None worked.

Of course, they didn't seem interested in helping me out in any other way. I decided that it was pointless to try and find an adapter. So I decided on buying a new TV tuner card! When I did, their card machine wouldn't work and it took them about 15 minutes to fix it.

When I was waiting for the card machine to start working, I was told by my friends in the book club that they won't be able to make it because of commitments at work. Mind you, we had planned it five weeks in advance, and they canceled it about 1 hour before the meeting was about to happen. I can't believe this.

I came back home with the TV tuner card and found out that my LED rope was not working. I took it down to the shop from where I had bought it -- those guys, so unprofessional, tried to fix it and damaged a component right in front of my eyes. Then, they said that it had been damaged and needed replacement. Of course, I bought the replacement, but when I told them that they had damaged it, they just shook their head in typical Indian style.

By the time I eventually got home, I was very frustrated. I found solace in a Skype chat with Billy with some Budweiser Magnum to cool me down. After I finished the chat, I decided to go to bed and texted the boyfriend.

He restarted what seems to be an endless series of text messaging-based attention-seeking behavior that seems to happen each time I spend time at my own apartment. He asked me questions like "Why are you avoiding me?" Of course, I was not avoiding him -- I am just trying to fix things. If only he would understand that it would help if our communication wasn't a thing that needed fixing.

To make tonight perfect, all I need is my power to go, internet to be down, PC to crash, wallet to be lost, and phone to get stolen. #Mumbai

— Krishna Kumar V. (@krishna_kumar_v) June 5, 2015

About books and yourself

What if I tell you that even chick-lit can inspire you? Please don't unfollow me. #books

— Krishna Kumar V. (@krishna_kumar_v) June 5, 2015

I’m part of a book club at work. Well, not strictly at work. It started an extension to something that we had at work to promote reading at work. Now, the work thing is not very active whereas our little book club is active.

Our book clubs work just like others - we select books to read each month, we read them, and then we discuss them when we meet. However, probably unlike other clubs, our monthly books are selected on the basis of genres, which can vary from literary fiction to erotica.

It’s a mixed bag, you see. This can be fun for people who are open and willing to explore outside their comfort zone – not so much for people who are stuck to their niches. For example, I have completely enjoyed whatever that I have read so far as part of the club. Some others have been non-compliant and have either dropped off or are not interested enough.

This month, we are reading a book called “The Truth AboutForever” by Sarah Dessen. It’s a chick-lit book and it fits the bill. The writing, relatively, is not the best and the story/characters seem adolescent. We are about to meet tomorrow for discussing the book.

I have never read something like this before. And yet, I’m actually enjoying reading it. None of the others are, however. I attribute this to my ability to latch on to characters and identify myself in them. I guess this trait directly correlates with my ability to get along with people and see the good in them.

Interesting how the books that you read can tell you so much about yourself.

The perception of selfishness

I often joke about being selfish. Although I don't consider myself excessively so, I think I am selfish to the extent that humans should be from the evolutionary point of view. I blame most of it on my body, which probably doesn't yet realize that I am part of a sentient species that has socially leapfrogged. The body forces us to eat when it's hungry, forces us to sleep when it's tired, and forces us to feel edgy when it feels threatened.

From a moral perspective, however, the way we behave toward others is more worrying. What's even more alarming is the way the friends that we care for a lot behave toward us. Most of them, regardless of how much ever they seem to and profess to love us, seem to be only behind furthering their own agenda.

A typical example is correspondence. We initiate communication with them expecting them to respond in kind. We take the time out to list down all the necessary points that you deemed as important to communicate. We hit send and wait. They may not even respond in what could be considered a socially acceptable time frame, considering the urgency indicated in our communication.

Assuming they do respond, we end up feeling that they have done it in a hurry. The manner of writing seems careless and they may not have addressed all the points we raised. More importantly, they may not even have given the accurate emotional weighting to our points.

Who is to blame? No one. At any point in time, they have pressing demands that occupy their attention and priorities. Would these demands result in them surviving the lion that they just encountered in the savannah? Probably not. But their bodies and minds still make them do the things that might make them more evolutionarily fit.

They may be busy interacting with an online acquaintance that, on the basis of the sensory inputs that their brains receive, may help in them being able to further their genetic pool. They may also be busy responding to social media comments on something that they posted. Of course, not only that they don't want to be an outcast in their social media band, they also want to be leaders of their respective bands.

Our ego is what your body/brain makes us believe is the most prioritizable thing. As part of it, we become selfish, at least from the social and moral perspective, because human brains and minds have woven a story so far advanced from the biochemical mileu that their bodies are immersed in. The best that we can do is to accept this phreno--physiologic gap and move on with life.

Yes, we should forgive friends who seem selfish. We are probably doing even worse, relatively. That's right, folks, because right now, I'm finishing this post on my blog because I think this is the best that I can do to climb a rung up in my social ladder.

My disenchantment with India

I wrote in my last blog post that my recent trip to the United States of America has changed my perspective about life. I have become a disenchanted Indian.

So apparently I have transformed into a stereotypical Indian who is disenchanted with life in India after visiting the US of A.

— Krishna Kumar V. (@krishna_kumar_v) May 27, 2015

What I mean by the that is that the way things are done in India, especially in Mumbai, don't particularly make sense. Unfortunately, these things universally involve people: people being uncooperative, people yelling at each other, people letting their kids to annoy other people, people not respective personal space, people talking louder than what's necessary.

Sure, when you aren't exposed to this year round, these will seem charming--they become a part of the India experience. That's what movies like Slumdog Millionaire and The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel do to you. Like allergens, anything unacceptable can be tolerated at low doses of exposure.

My close friend Rich, who loves this limited-exposure to India pointed this out. He thinks that Indian New channels, with 5 tickers, 10 people shouting at each other seemingly always, and the assault of colors on our retinae, are able to sufficiently encapsulate this phenomenon. I agree with him.

So the trip hasn't changed my opinion about the reasons underlying this public immorality. I still think people behave they way they behave because they were forced because of other people behaving a certain way. A closed loop, you see. So, technically, you can't blame them. They do what they have learned in their life and they probably haven't exposed to anything different.

What has changed, however, is that, before the trip, I thought that I had to adjust to it and remain relatively unperturbed. You couldn't do much, you see. You need to expose yourself to it if you want to experience life and not live as a hermit.

Now I think it is different. I feel that I'm being unkind and inconsiderate to myself by consciously exposing myself to this and bring the quality of my life down. Yes, I know that I will probably have less of a social life if I follow the strategy. But what I will have left will be more worth the trouble.

But what am I doing to change it? I will communicate my resentment more regularly. Here, I just wrote about it. Yesterday, on my way bag from a weekend at J's home across the bay, I had a conversation where I made sure the people who misbehaved understood that I was talking about them. Maybe Indians still have a certain threshold for shame that I'm able to overcome.

A Demotivating Motivational

Demotivating things in my life, in no particular order:

• The battery lives of most electronic devices.
• Your average littering, spitting, loud Indian, who is not conscious about others in public spaces.
• Expense-income imbalance.
• Miley Cyrus.
• MTV India.
• The treatment received by Julian Assange, Edward Snowden, and Chelsea Manning.
• Indian politicians.
• Random people fighting, shouting at each other, especially on the internet.
• Apartment hunting in Bandra.
• Work-life imbalance
• Indian television.
• Justin Bieber's manager's refuting stories about Bieber not retiring.
• Indian asinitude in communication.
• Commute time in Mumbai.
• My atrocious slap-pop bass technique.
• Infrastructure in India, i.e., the lack of.
• The Sharmas, Ishant in particular
• Religion and its consequences.
• My 3-year-old Android phone.
• Bureaucracy in India, for things such as passport renewal
• Mumbai traffic.
• International politics.
• Lists such as this.
• Corruption.
• Reality television.
• The lack of broadness of broadband internet.
• Andheri East.
• My mirror/webcam image.
• Inability to maintain my blog.
• Lack of collective conscience about the Earth as a planet, keeping in mind that it's just a tiny speck of dust in space.
• The Indian bowling attack.
• Communication breakdown between intelligent people who love each other.
• Edge/2G.

Nominal idiosyncrasies

Well, this term probably doesn’t exist. Hence, I’ll define it for you.

Nominal idiosyncrasy (n): The phenomenon of an idiosyncrasy getting attached to a particular name of a person so much that it is hard to think of anyone else with the same name. Because of this phenomenon, ordinary proper nouns become adjectives.

I can think of a few. If you can think of more please add them as comments.

Arindam – someone who is a jerk, sycophantic, and is an attention-mongering whiner; a person with a stupid face, glasses, and a pony tail; a person who is certified number one in legal exposure.

Arnab – someone who is a jerk, who would never let anybody else complete a sentence, who never lets anybody else’s opinion seemingly matter; self-obsessed prick.

Anthony – someone who is a politician who will send out semi-obscene messages to young women with attached pictures of himself in his underwear; someone who has just an average penis but thinks that it is bigger than that.

Bill – someone who is a politician whose wife is also a politician; someone who has oral sex with his secretary (such secretaries are called Monica irrespective of their sex); someone who is obsessed with sex.

The irrepressible Sun

I've always wanted to write - bestsellers, preferably in the Asimov mold. I, unfortunately, can't. This title is dedicated to that dream. If you are wondering WTF - I'm at Hyderabad for a gig with Shor Bazaar and I have just come back from soundchecking under the blistering sun. I almost had a heat stroke. This gig brings my life down another circle - I'll explain that next time. Now, however, lets get me back to the only thing I'm really good at - lamenting.

Once my good friend Dennis had said a decade or so back: 'You've got to be extensively-read to start writing, Kris'. I had nodded, albeit in part-disagreement - I hate being told I'm not good enough - it reminds me of my childhood, when everything about me was judged by performance at academics. 'Son, the only reason why we are proud of you is because of your scores and otherwise, you are just a bag of shit'-type comments plague me still, you see.

I had been forced to fall prey to the sleazy educational system and my conservative lower-middle class upbringing, where the only goal in life was to score well in exams. On top of that, I chose something - I must confess that I love Medicine and Orthopedics, but they are just too restrictive - which wrecked any chance that I had to explore the loopholes in the system.

Now, I'm staring down the hill, with the best part of my life over, with very few memories that I can cherish and carry forward. I have a pathological uneasiness to get into discussions with others about books, music, paintings, movies because I feel ashamed to have not read/heard/enjoyed/watched them. I have self-esteem issues and am pathologically approval/attention-seeking and depressive.

The message is this - please choose to have better childhoods.

To just take a break

Today was a good day for my studies. I got up really early and did put in a lot of hours with my books. But there were many a moments during the entire day when I felt like going out and having some fun. Watch a movie. Hang out at a party or something - two parties were happening; one GB party and another house-party that my friend had invited me for.

I wanted to watch HellBoy 2 desperately and I took up the paper and decided on a show at least twice today before deciding against it. I procrastinated the decision for going to the parties until it was too late to. The reason is simple - even though I have some money with me I feel that I don't have the rights to have fun with borrowed money. I feel guilty of being luxurious. Similarly, I can't think of buying myself anything better than a Rs. 20 meal.

The only way out of this is to 'earn' my own money. And that seems like a long way off!

My world is caving in

I'm in a very bad mood. Things have gone from worse to some undefined state which is worser than that. What incited me is that my credit card has become defunct now. I went out to shop for groceries and I couldn't pay for them. And I had to dish out 150 Rs. from my pocket for them. That leaves me with just about 500 Rs. for the entire month.

For those who have wondered why I should be penniless - I was a resident doctor until about a few months back. Now, I don't work at a hospital. I have clear my exams before I can work again. The money promised by the record label hasn't come in yet. I don't know if it will ever. I've been helped by friends, my sister and my parents in the past and I can't hope to ask them for more.

I face internet, mobile and other blackouts starting in a few days. The number of meals that I have in a day have to be cut from 2 to one or none. I just had breakfast today. And I don't know what to do. The only hope is to sell my body out and make some money with sex. Or else, I could opt for a job but that will deprive me of my time of studies.

I'm so pissed at myself that I am not even going to talk about the new song that I recorded today. I think my poverty is going to be a reason to spoil whatever good things that I have left in my life. For those who feel like commenting, please suggest some jobs that I could do. I'm a medical graduate and I don't have any other 'mainstream' qualification.

In the past week or so...

• I have had big problems with internet - solved now
  
• I have had problems with my Clix stove - solved now
  
• The fuse in my kitchen blew - solved now
  
• Plans for applying for a US VISA are facing a bottle-neck. - unsolved
  
• My refrigerator is leaking (defrosting) because of lack of electricity - unsolved
  
• Another rat made it's appearance - unsolved
  
• I have been watching the animated series of X-men. It's fantastic.
  
• The practice sessions with Shoonyas has been less than exciting.
  
• I'm holding my excitement to watch Naseerudin Shan in 'A Wednesday'.
  

All very depressing. But here are things that make me feel better.

• Vinokur is coming to visit me in late November. Have to search for apartments - unsolved
  
• I have been able to study well.
  
• I have been eating better. Thanks for all the people who would sigh in relief.

Mosquitoes, ceiling fans and sweating

Some of you, okay at least one of you (yes, you know who it is) has wondered what a delight it would be to be my boyfriend. In the various adulatory comments that I have received over a few years, I have found qualities in me which even I haven’t realized I had. My self-esteem has been on the rise because of these and sometimes even I am quite sure that I would be able to give my partners a good time being just myself.

No, I’m not getting carried away slapping my own bass guitar. If you are wondering what that silly phrase means, don’t worry. I just coined it. It’s a neo-phrase adapted from ‘blowing your own trumpet’ – just in my case that I don’t play trumpet. I play the bass guitar. One more thing, ‘slap’ is not the same thing that you see in S&M movies. It’s a form of bass playing which is very cool. I must also add that I’m pretty average in slapping. Back to me – but my negative side. Here’s why you wouldn’t like living with me anymore.

Like every living person on Earth, who trudge on their feet miserably towards whatever sorry thing that they are doing, I too have my own ‘peculiarities’. Some call them ‘the extra spice’. Some call them ‘OCDs’. Some might even call them ‘things that make one person different from others’. Actually, I would like to rephrase this term to ‘annoyances found in a person that you would like to see eliminated; so much so that you wouldn’t mind killing that person itself’.

I have a ‘thang’ for avoiding unnatural noises while sleeping and listening to music; especially, when you do both together. Yes, I sleep while listening to some kind of music or the other because I believe that you are able to find time for listening that you can’t otherwise, courtesy your busy schedule. Besides, it’s a cool thing to wake up to a song which you really like.

Because the ceiling fans create a whole lot of noise (almost all of them do, and the one in m apartment is the worst of them), I hate to put it on. What happens in that case is that, those unimaginably resilient mosquitoes swarm and buzz around me and prick me to agony. Seriously, these are one of the very few ‘pricks’ that I don’t like. I do my best to cover me with a bed-sheet. Sometimes that works. Most of the times, it doesn’t. I was getting tired of this predicament and I decided to do something about it. If you are wondering if I weren’t using any repellents, I was actually using ‘All Out pluggy’ which doesn’t work at all.

Yesterday, when I went to the supermarket, I bought Mortein mosquito coils. I was happy hoping that Mortein would provide me with the same clinical efficiency that it did with its rat poison. Talking about rats, you must have an idea as to how irritating it was for me when that stupid rat was running amok in my apartment. That was the worst kind of noise. I had to turn up the ceiling fan and music just to eliminate that!

So, in the evening, I light this mosquito coil and was happy that the fumes even smelled okay. Since, I had closed my windows of my amazingly cute (read claustrophobic) studio apartment, the fumes were getting to my eyes. By the time I was ready to sleep, I my eyes were as red as a baboon’s sass and I was lacrymating profusely. But I still felt happy. I could listen to music without the stupid ceiling fan and doze off, which I managed to at about 2 am. 

At 5 am, I was awakened by the soothingly warm buzzing of our dear friends, mosquitoes! Fuck, I was so pissed that I thought ‘Dammit, I’ll turn on the ceiling fan!’ I did just that and went back to sleep. I woke up to the knocks on the door by the ‘garbage wallah’ at 8 am. I picked up my garbage bag and gave it to him and returned back to bed. My radio was playing ‘Machinehead’ by Bush (the band, not the chimp) and I felt like smashing that ceiling fan into pieces because it was drowning clarity of the music.

I switched it off, and thought of dozing for a few more minutes. The only problem, I dozed for a few more minutes than I hoped. I woke up at 11 am all sweaty and muggy. I felt like cursing myself to death. I had just wasted an entire morning by just sleeping.

Incidentally, earlier in the night, Vinokur and I were discussing about finding an apartment or hotel room in Mumbai for him to stay when he would visit me next. For a long time, I kept on wondering why he wouldn’t stay in my cozy (read miniscule) apartment. That way, I thought, we could save a lot of money. I even felt angry at him when he suggested that Jews needed certain ‘luxuries’ and ‘comforts’ to live in – like air-conditioning etc.

Thankfully, the night just cleared up the smoke in my head. The only problem is to find a place for the Jew god to stay.

Three's company

Because of my amazingly narcissistic post about my own micro-celebrity status a couple of days back, the readership of this blog has skyrocketed from 1l.63 readers per week to an astounding 13.13 readers in over 3 days! Can you believe that! I mean if you talk about daily visits, it means that I have gained one more blog reader in the last 3 days! Thank you! Thank you!

Some of those 13.13 readers/week would already know that I’m an amazingly cool guy who’s part of two rock bands – Noise Market and Shoonyas! Now here’s the stunner! I think I’m about to join another band! [Pause for raptures]

Yes! I have been getting offers and stuff. But this one sounds really serious and fun. The curious thing is that the band isn’t formed yet nor does it have a name. I got this e-mail from my friend (who’s the reason for my micro-celebrity status) forwarding me a mail from his friend who was seeking for bass guitarist for his band. I’d responded with wariness.

I got an e-mail from the vocalist of the band; a very ambitious, confident guy, who is assembling a troupe of 6 people including two guitarists, a drummer and a turn-table/synthesizer player. The genre, as he explained the barrenness of bands in India, is rock-metal. Something like Korn, Limp Bizkit, Linkin Park, POD etc. He seemed to have the firm idea of creating original compositions and using covers just for establishing in the first few months.

Curiously enough, this guy seems to have a fantastic sense of humor – in the campy, cheesy side; so much like mine. It might just be true fellas that in a few years time, you may find this in the annals of Indian rock history – … and they met on the stage of the biggest rock festival in India, Independence Rock. They have never looked back since.

We’re meeting tonight at I-Rock. Hope that it is as good as it looks!

Call from Sister - part 2

Yesterday evening, I got a call from my sister. It was the usual customary ‘How’s everything?’ call. She was getting back home from work. She was returning my call to her earlier asking if she could help me/us by getting us contacts of some college festival organizers and stuff. What I thought was a regular conversation suddenly changed course.

I don’t exactly know what the trigger was. But it just sounded the same bullshit to me. She thought that my life has lost its direction. She thought that I was not sure about what I wanted to do. Citing these examples, she tried to drive home the point.

• When you fell in love with Vinokur, you wanted to go over to New York.
  
• After that, you decided that it was better for Vinokur to come here.
  
• Once Vinokur came here, thing’s weren’t all the ‘rosy’. He went back.
  
• Then you say, he would come back.
  
• Now you say, you want to go visit him.
  
• You often get crushes on ‘other’ men.
  
• You aren’t sure as to what to do – either music or medicine.
  
• You aren’t happy now. That’s because of all these problems that you have.

She thinks that I should simply push back all the other things in my life and concentrate on my exams; Vinokur, Music and all of that. How easy is it for someone to say that huh? But then, there are weird things happening in my life. I’m going through bankruptcy; I’m worrying about Vinokur’s health; I’ve failed in my exams. The truth is that with all the things that I’m doing right now, I’m trying to forget all these negativities. And I think I’m doing a good job keeping myself upbeat and spirited.

She went on to tell me various other things like – Look, you aren’t giving your parents a priority in your life. You are just thinking about yourself. You aren’t thinking about some people who are suffering more as compared to you – you should try to help them and thus feel better! I told her that I would love to take care of my parents. But I didn’t want to compromise my life, my love and my happiness for anyone. We all need to be selfish, shouldn’t we?

I know that I’m not making a great job of studying right now and I’m ashamed that I can’t concentrate that hard. But then, I don’t want people to tell me be that I’m all fucked up – especially from my sister.

I told her that I thought that she was simply not seeing my side of things. I also explained to her that it was hard for either of us to comment on the other’s life as we live in totally different worlds. And I finally told her that, whatever her intentions are, she’s not helping me at all – instead she had just made me feel bad. I know that it was harsh on my part too.

Despite disagreements, she called me today morning to ask me if I was doing okay? I accepted her apology and returned the apology for being rather brash to her. :)

Immodesty is my middle name

At least a few of you who actually bother to visit my blog and to read it regularly (the last time I checked it was 11.64 persons on an average week) might remember that I hinted about something related to being a celebrity. I said I am a micro-celebrity, or better one in the making. And I did leave that clichéd teaser ‘Watch this space tomorrow!’ To only those sincere readers, here is why!

So, I’ve been commenting about Queer Azadi march in many forms of electronic media – GB forums, TOI pages, blogs and some celebrity blogs – to be more specifically, one celebrity blog – Shobhaa De’s blog. I commented on her post about Shabana Azmi and other stars (all who happen to be muslims) finding it hard to get an apartment because of their religion. I had said that I had found it extremely difficult for me and Vinokur to get one in Mumbai and I had to even bring R. along to convince that I was ‘normal’.

And then, I commented about her Queer Azadi post saying that I myself don’t prefer to be a drag. I would instead like to portray the image of a responsible young man who is demanding his human rights to love and to live with his love. Since I’m a frequent commentator on her blog, she has taken pains to chat with me about such topics when she gets time.

Kris hears muttering voices say ”Okay, okay! Big deal, you are getting to chat with a celebrity! Get to the point, dick!”

Day before yesterday afternoon, I got an e-mail from our blogging friend Aham tell me that De has mentioned me in her column 'The Sexes'about the Queer Azadi march published in the Aug 31 edition of The Week magazine. I didn’t believe it first. So I had to confirm it with the horse’s mouth and I was surprised that it actually was about me. I went out and got a copy of the week to confirm my micro-celebrity status. I didn’t post it until now because I couldn’t have given the link to you guys as well. Here’s the link. And here’s the excerpt about me.

"I received emails galore from concerned gay friends who were worried they may have to face stepped-up hostility due to the weekend hoopla. One of them wrote how difficult it was to get a flat in Mumbai (his lover is a gora), till he produced a 'wife' (friendly female colleague). He preferred to lie low while members of his community bounced around in boas, puckered their lips and pouted inanities for the benefit of sensation-seeking journos. He said he felt sad, ashamed and embarrassed. Time to introspect before waving that seven- hued flag again, guys!"

Thank you De!

(Turns around and bows to an entire blog audience of 12.34 people per week.)

Dating troubles *updated

I have been gearing up to post about relationships for a while. But I needed something juicy to write about. At the same time, I didn’t want to be mean or intrusive to anyone else’s life. Then, I had a talk to one of my friends. He is going to the worst time of his life in his dating life. I honestly wanted to help him and to cheer him up.

I asked if I could blog about it and get some advice from the most brilliant minds (of course, I’m kidding) on the blogosphere. Surprisingly, he said yes. He in fact wanted his name and his blog to be mentioned so that those people who felt sympathetic towards him could mush about in his own blog. But that aside, I suspect that he’s conjuring up devious thoughts and intends to translate the traffic that he would get to become a micro-celebrity like how everyone else (losers like me) is becoming these days. Confused? Check this space tomorrow.

Back to him - Let’s get the facts on the table here. He is a 32 31 year old, sweet looking guy with a trim, but not lithe, body. He’s got a gorgeous smile, wicked sense of humor and a plethora of pop-knowledge to charm anyone in a conversation; someone who would steal the show in a dinner-table conversation. He’s intelligent, educated (ex-Harvard Virginia), successful (believe me honey, all of you must have seen his ideas in the media) and rich (as compared to other losers, again like me). He’s a confident, out of the closet, a celebrity blogger and has readership from at lest 78 countries spread across the globe. All the women who have just woken up the realization of the warm sensation of wetness in their panties, can go to the rest room and change into a fresh one. Sorry gals, this one’s queer.

Amazing resume, is it not? Who wouldn’t want to date this guy? Let me see, women who are into women (Why am I into lesbian bashing these days?) and losers like me who aren’t exactly into young bubbly buns. Even those who have come back to join us after their panties-change, would realize that they can harbor this vulgar desire despite a null chance to consummate their relationship.

So, this Mr. Perfect is finding it hard to find his prey in the dating pool in Mumbai. The people he is attracted to get more attracted to someone else. There is this amazing repetitiveness to this fact. The people who hit on him are generally the kind who belong to the broad category called ‘dumb morons’. Hence, there is no luck on that front as well. Believe me, he has done a lot of real-life hitting on (ie. At parties, treks and picnics) and nothing has led to anything yet. It’s ironic to note that when he came from Bangalore to Mumbai, it was mainly because he thought that Bangalore was such a lousy fuck in general. Mumbai seemed greener and it actually is. Hard luck for him as is evident in his last post on his blog.

So, what do y’all suggest? I suggested online personals and dating near strangers until he stumbled on the one that he’s going to be with for the rest of his life. I know I’m projecting my experience to everyone else’s (hopefully). But I thought it is worth a cheap-shot at least. He is so desperate that he’s planning to move back to Boston by the end of this year if he’s not getting lucky here.

Please pour in with your suggestions, tips and advice to Oprah, Oprah Winfrey show, California Chicago, USA. Also copy it on to the comments section and his blog here.

****UPDATED on Aug 26 at 11.00 pm due to popular request****

Our Mr. Perfect is Vikster (Vikram) and you can get in touch with him through his blog or his e-mail. I have corrected a few errors on the post as well.