Sunday, 27 May 2012


It doesn't matter why what happened did. You are only as successful as your last big hurrah. Someone will suddenly say something, unwittingly, about something you have or have not done. And you wince.

Then when you are alone, you turn the contents of your thirty something year old existence inside out. And when you sort through the medals and wounds, you realize, each scar tells a story. You may go red in the face narrating those excuses and explanations, but it's pointless.

And after you stew a bit, and brood and have arguments in your head, you realize, what in fact you should have known all along. There is only one way to get through the madness and ups and downs.

To not give a fuck.

Saturday, 17 March 2012

Try this for a deep, dark secret

I am in serious nostalgia mode. The Kolkata house is going to be repainted after almost 19 years and I will have to cull through all the furniture, clothes, knick knacks collected for several more. I am also tentatively approaching the idea of making some small renovations. Converting the balcony into a library-cum-study for instance. Getting the bathtub fixed. Scouting the Park Street auction house for a chandelier.

Sitting in my bedroom on a Saturday, I have cancelled all appointments, and have some old CDs for company, with several mugs of tea. Foremost amongst these are my Remington Steele DVDs. I can't seem to get enough of Steele and Laura, with Mildred and old fashioned hamming. Brosnan back then seems to have been massively inspired by Clark Gable and there are a lot of narrowed eyes, raised brows, pursed lips and "Ah yes"-es whenever he reacts. There are funny action sequences, boxy suits with voluminous hair, shoulder pads and kitten heels.

It also immediately takes me back to my school days, when I spent several happy hours glued to the telly watching this or Wonder Years, or Doogie Howser, or Moonlighting. Good old American TV shows way before FRIENDS came along.

Of all the things I found when I cleared out the locker in my mother's cupboard last month, was a small hand painted wooden box. It had two things in it, which I was surprised she hadn't thrown out. One was my school badge - a small golden yellow metal square, with the school logo in copper painted on it. And the other was my Head Girl badge, proudly worn during the year 1999.

I thought then, of how she must have looked through all the old things when I was away studying and working in a different city, and wondering like me today, of the days gone by.