Mind over matter...

Someone once wrote the phrase "Mind over matter". Someone then decided that running a distance of 42 kilometers in honour of someone who died trying to do that was a good thing. In a triumverate of bad ideas, someone decided to mix these two thoughts together and see what happens. That last someone was me.
Let us put 42 kilometers in perspective.... it is about 41.95 kilometers more than the average person runs in a day, (If you are on time for your Bus/Train then it is 42 kilometers more).
Anyway, I digress. Why am I discussing human stupidiy and distance? (For those of you who will argue that it is human willpower and a spirit of 'can do', I would like to point to the aforesaid dead greek who "did not"). The main reason is because I am a bit overweight. When I say a bit, I mean a bit. In the same way that the Earth is a bit larger than Venus. Its all about perspective really, and from my perspective that last gulab jamun always looks lonely on a plate.
At some point of time , The Girl (yes there is one) put things in a very succint manner. Due to copywrite and legal reasons (To prevent her from doing something highly illegal to me) I will not repeat what she said. The net effect of this was to push me to go back to the gym and start losing weight. And I needed a push. First out of the car, then up the stairs, then into the changing room and so forth.
Luckily I had already signed up for a gym almost 6 months earlier. I went there quite regularly until I got injured, namely my ego suffered a bruising from watching other people work out.
Now, I have never been a runner. (I am sure some of you expect me to make a joke about "except when it comes to running away from work", but that is not a laughing matter and takes serious effort.) Running for me has always been more of a concept. A "can do" with an addendum of "later". I also always figured that the treadmill was a metaphor for life where you spend so much time running all to stay in the same place. Thus who needs metaphors when you have the real thing right?
Well, as always in life I put my best foot forward. Followed by my other foot. Followed quickly by my best foot again.
 

Cruising Along

(Part 5 of my Bangkok Series)

My Mom was right. Size does matter. It especially matters when it is wearing a pink shirt and dancing on a boat to 'Munni Badnaam Hui'. I think there is a certain threshhold where you decide "If you got it, flaunt it", and it is usually somewhere around 120 Kg.
Quick Recap: Got back to my hotel with my uncle, had to get my clothes from Room 2005 to Room 2014 to take a shower, got back to the lobby 45 minutes after the scheduled time of departure or as it is called in India, early.
Get on the boat, have a few drinks, watch the bride and groom get embarassed when a cousin yells out "Kiss the bride", watch my aunt get embarassed when a grandma asks her "what does that mean?", and we get to the sing and dance portion of the cruise.
At the outset let me warn you, we Marwaris are not very graceful. I blame it on physics. How do you move your body with any coordination when you have the momentum of blingy clothes, outlandish jewellery and heavy wallets pulling you in all sorts of directions? I guess one way of compensating is making sure that they weigh a fraction of what you do, and wear pink whilst you are at it.
Why do people always try and drag you onto the dance floor? Of course here I use the word "floor" quite loosely. It was a small gangway between the buffet table and the dining tables. Lets just say that there were a lot of salads that got tossed a second time. 
Oh and somehow they had found a Thai singer who was going to sing Hindi songs. Someone had not thought this through. You have a bunch of drunk men (with their wives), in Thailand, on a boat with a hot Thai girl singing provocative hindi songs and a license to pretend to dance. Well, they say in order to create something, you have to break something first...maybe that applies to marriages as well.
Aunt: Why dont you also dance?
Me: Because I dont participate in public orgies.
Aunt: (not understanding what I said) Oh just be young, have fun..look at everyone dancin......MOHAN!!!!!

An Interview with EclecticV

When I heard that my old twitter friend @eclectivV had decided to turn in his application for the the Miss India contest, I initially looked at the calendar and breathed a sigh of relief. Whilst just around the corner, we still had a few months for 2012.
However, it did leave me with many questions and I am sure you have them in your mind too. Thus I scheduled an interview with the weird one, which I hope shall shed some light on this turn of events.

We tabled it for  4 o'clock last evening and I was surprised to see him on time. However, he wasted no time in displaying the newfound diva inside him.


Me: Hello Eclectic.

Him: Well hello there.

Me: Thank you for this interview Eclectic. And wow, looks like we will start on time, exactly at 4 PM.


Him: My clock says 3:54. LOL.


Me: I know, its fantastic that you are on time. Can I offer you some refreshments? Tea, coffee maybe?


Him: I've got coupons for CCD, why don't you run out and get me sandwich, eh?

Me: Uhh, the closest CCD is 15 minutes away. We have biscuits here. And we can get this over with quick.


Him: I think I'll go out to get a sandwich, that 4PM interview posting thing was just a rough estimate, I'm sure you all can wait while I return.

(At which point of time he strutted out of the room. I waited there for a long time. I wonder how people who do this for a living put up with this everyday?. Anyway, he returned after a couple of hours.)

Me: Well, that took a bit longer than I expected. It shouldn't have taken you more than an hour. Where did you go? What were you doing?

Him:  At Big Bazaar, buying crap.

Me: (Deciding to continue the interview before I decide to murder him) So what made you decide to participate in a beauty contest?

Him:I had a dream, I don't remember it, but I do remember that it didn't feel good.

Me: But why would you decide to do something that does not feel good?

Him: Hurt is an addiction too, a very strong one.

Me: But wouldn't it be better to do something that you are good at? Something more rewarding?

Him: Man, I don't have time to pursue rewarding things in life.

Me: Has no one tried to talk you out of it? Explain to you that you cannot possibly succeed in this venture?

Him: Advice by normal, well meaning, intelligent people never worked for me then, and so I don't plan on picking it up now either.

Me: Don't you think that some people might find it weird that you are entering the Miss India contest?

Him: Fuck judgmental people.

Me: Yes... its good that you are steadfast, but the world thinks you should give them an explanation.

Him: No, I won't. Fuck you.

Me: Fine, at least explain your thoughts on how you are going to pull off the swimsuit competition. What do you think of the sight of you walking down that ramp in a bikini?

Him: It's a bit hot.

Me: (Regretting I had ever brought up this topic) You have no apprehensions of whether you will fit into it? Don't you think you are a bit bulky for ....

Him: Well, at least my skeletal muscle mass is just right.

Me: So I hear you did not like your old job. Was this part of the reason you decided to become a diva.. sorry a beauty queen?

Him: Just when I was onto something groundbreaking, on the brink of spearheading an epic revolution, they saddled me with mundane work.

Me: And what was this epic revolution that you would have brought about?

Him: Just accept me as your intergalactic emperor already you all, you all futilely wither and slither in vain.

Me: Ummm....  We dont need an intergalactic emperor.

Him: Oh you egoists, there's no cure for your problems.

Me: So since you could not become the intergalactic emperor, you decided to try for miss world?

Him: In the end, we just want to be made to feel special in one way or another. That's what it's ALL about.


Me: Thats... fantastic....

Him:I like it when we all agree that I am spectacular.

Me: Uhh... so are there any people who have inspired you during your life?

Him: I can bring myself to hate anything or anyone if I try even a little, same can't be said for admiration.


Me: Do you think it is your destiny to become Miss India?

Him: Out of all the questions that I ask myself, the one I give most merit to is "Why, why was I born?" Sure it's rhetorical, but whatever.

Me: That doesn't really answer my question....

Him: Look at you all go, it's like you believe that someone gives a shit about what you think or have to say.

Me: What do you think of your competition? Everyone says Poonam is the hot favourite to win, she claims to be the most downloaded model on the internet.

Him: "Most downloaded model on the Internet," my ass, no really, I mean it, more pictures of my ass have been downloaded than Poonam's face.


Me: Are you going to don a stage name for your act? I doubt your current name will do....

Him: Esther is the most beautiful name, ever.


Me: Why did you not try for something more conventional, like the ..I dont know.. MISTER India competition?


Him: Men have to work hard, display loyalty, withhold trust & prove their worth to get somewhere in life. Women just have to show some cleavage.

Me: Dont you think that is a bit sexist?

Him: Call me old fashioned, but I thinks husbands should do the cooking & earning business, and wives should tie their ties and be appreciative.


Me: Uhh... and whatever happens after the competition, what do you see yourself doing in the future?

Him: I think I'll make a rather good wife.


Me: Any advice for future aspirats....One hopes they won't turn to you, but in case they do?

Him:When in doubt, hide the coke, kill the hookers and pretend to watch TV.


Me: And on that note I think we should end this interview.... lets not take this any further......

Him: I've always had a feeling that most people will not like the end, whatever it may be.


****************************************************************************

Thank you @EclecticV for being a sport and letting me put this up. All these comments are tweets that he has posted since the beginning of April 2011 (Links provided, at least until he decides to delete those tweets).

Time to Grow Up

(Part 4 of my Bangkok Series)

People spend a lot of money on quacks that hypnotize them and make them "regress" into a previous life. Parents regressing till the point they act like kids, however, comes for free.
You know that part where you are not supposed to talk to strangers? At least this time it wasn't a hot girl. And of course my mom can't help but ask the adult equivalent of "Are we there yet?", which is "Are we there yet?". My uncle, who has travelled the world and is quite well read, decides to be profound. He sums up his deep thought with "It feels like we are not in India".
There is nothing funnier than watching a set of Indians on a train, in a foreign country, trying to blend in. We make fun of tourists going clickety click but trust me, tourists trying to be you and me are funnier. Especially when after 10 minutes of sitting quietly my mom asks me if I can remove the sky train map and make sure I know where we are going, and then repeats the question at every stop. My Dad meantime is sitting quite quiet and bored and my uncle has gone to sleep standing up. I am left with the job of herding these sheep to a mall that I did not want to go to in the first place.
Fast Forward: Reach the mall, it hasn't been blown up, set a meeting point and time, go your own way. The first thing I did was leave the mall and roam the streets. 2 hours of roaming, eating street food, talking to strangers (I'm allowed to since I am a grown up) and getting wet in unseasonal rain later I get back to the mall with a half hour to spare which was spent running around the food court like a little child.
I meet up with my parents and they then prove to me that I am the new adult in the family. Family function in the evening and my parents want to go see a play. Guess who needs to represent the family and prove that we have not come to Bangkok for just a vacation.
"So Mom, why do I have to go?"
"Son, someone needs to represent the family"
"Why aren't you guys coming?"
"Uhh..its on a river boat, and I will feel sea sick"
"We were on a cruise ship to Alaska for a week and it did not affect you"
"That was a bigger boat,.. size matters"



(Continued in Part 5, Cruising Along)

What it means to be in Bangkok

(Part 3 of my Bangkok Series)

I did not mean to spray my cousin with pineapple juice. I did not mean to be the second child to do so in 2 minutes. I had praised her for her patience when her daughter gurgled up some baby formula on her. She smiled and told me that I was in fact the first baby she had taken care off. And then I spluttered juice over her.
I honestly did not mean to, but fate conspired against me. Two of my aunts passed by behind my chair at that very instant. I dared not look and see which two, but I think I recognized the one who said "I have to try one of those famous massages. My husband keeps raving about them to his friends and gets one every time he comes here for a business trip".
How can you travel to a place without reading up on it first? Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Bangkok. This is Thailand. When I told my friends about my forthcoming trip, they prayed that I would not be raped by a lady-boy. This is the whore-house of the world, and whoever is not selling themselves for money, is trying to swindle it from you.
Fast forward: Breakfast is good, Mom stole my orange juice so I stole her hashbrowns, the hotel has a shortage of spoons, two plates go flying through the air due to people tripping ,every foreigner is wondering if the circus has decided to stay at the Hilton, and its now time to retire to the rooms for a few minutes.
Did I mention I was sharing a room with my cousin with the baby? Thats what I thought. Did I mention that since most of my cousins arrived the previous night, and since my bed was free, it had become a dumping ground? I guess I did not. On a side note, a bag of diapers (unused) makes a pretty comfy pillow.
Its time for a short geography lesson. Bangkok has a river on the east side of it. Hotels along its banks have little boats on which you can cross the river. End of Geography lesson.
Post a nap and lunch (where they still did not have enough spoons) we decide to go shopping. An uncle decides to tag along quite grumpily (he wanted to get a second massage since morning 0_o ). Short boat ride, short walk to the sky train and we almost get swindled.
A woman manages to convince my parents that not only is she a hotel employee, the mall we were going to had been subjected to a terrorist attack. It is moments like these that I really hope I was adopted.
"Dad, I cant believe I had to drag you away from that woman's scheme". "Son, how was I supposed to know". "Dad, this is Bangkok, you shouldnt talk to strangers". "But Son, didnt she seem like a nice person?" "No Dad, all she was... was HOT".

(Contd. in Part 4 Time to grow up)

The Arrival.

(Part 2 of my Bangkok series)

In case you havent realized it yet, i'm an overexcitable puppy. There is something about travelling that makes me feel like im an 8 year old, with the legal permissions that being 27 provides.
Time to fast forward, land in Bangkok, airport is HUGE, immigration is long, immigration official tells me twice not to smile so much for my picture.
I just start to relax as we pull into the hotel lobby, when the cabby manages to remind me that we are in Thailand. You know how they say that when there is a language barrier, yelling louder doesn't help? It doesnt. What helps is telling a 5'2 cab driver, that the 6'0 customer who is cranky with no sleep does not believe that he can keep the change against a 500 baht note (on a fare of 340) as a tip for his drunken smile.
Hugs, kisses, yada yada. Why is everyone pushing their babies in my arms? The last time a cousin tried making me hold my new born niece, all I could say was.."Uhh.. has routine cleaning and maintainence been completed on this thing?"
Hello Uncle. So glad to see you after all these years. Yes I am a big boy now. Yes please, slap me on the back hard with the flat of your hand telling me exactly how much i've grown. That doesnt hurt at all....
So somewhere into the process of exitting the cab and entering the hotel lobby, another cousin tells me that my parents are in room 2014, i am in room 2005 with my cousin (with the cleaned maintained niece).Breakfast is to be had before we head to our rooms.
"Hello Uncle, why arent you eating more? your plate looks empty.. *slap on back* .. oh im sorry, was that orange juice in your hand? *smile*.

(Continued in Part 3: What it means to be in Bangkok)

The coming storm

Index:

1. The Coming Storm
2. The Arrival
3. What it means to be in Bangkok
4. Time to Grow Up
5. Cruising Along
   

The Coming Storm:

The Pundit ran. I don't know why he did. I don't know why, oblivious to everyone else, he felt the urge to hold up his dhoti with both hands and sprint in chappals. All I know is that at any other time if a half naked man, in a towel, sandals, and forehead paint had dared to streak across the lobby of the Hilton, sirens would have been called. This time however, the Marwaris had come to Bangkok.
I am Marwari. We are a proud race. We hold our heads up high, with backs straight. This is more because our bellies prevent us from bending our spines, and our wallets act as counterbalances. We aren't necessarily rich (case in point, your's truly), but we don't spend. Its not a case of spending much, or less, or little. We don't spend. We never spend money. We never spend money, except for the few cases when we do, and when that happens, someone will get married.
So somewhere down the line my cousin decides to marry a Punjabi. A Marwari decides to marry a Punjabi. Thrifty, conservative, tee-totalling, vegetarians from anywhere-is-more-alive-than-here somewhere in Rajashtan, marrying a Punjabi living in California. The wedding was going to be in the whorehouse of the world, Bang-kok. There was no way i was missing this.
Anyway, fast forward, cousin books tickets, we finish packing, day of departure arrives, Mom and me on one flight, Dad on another, wait.. what? Right, so somehow my dad is booked on a flight that is 2 hours earlier than ours. He is on Indian/Indian Airlines/Air India (does anyone know what its called?) Much ado, baggage exchange, whirring down the airport riding on the trolley with mom running after me, and Dad having to explain how why exactly he was going to Bangkok for a week with no luggage or hand baggage (we had taken it) later.... we get past immigration and into duty-free.Oh yeah, and my dad's flight is delayed by 6 hours. (Did i mention he was travelling Air India?).
"Mom, relax, we have 45 minutes for the flight". "Son, lets just go to the gate and wait". "Mom, there is nothing to do at the gate, lets just get something to eat". "Son, they are STARTING TO BOARD". "Oh shit mom...wanna run?"

(Part 2: The Arrival)

Moments of Travel that make me Smile

1) Passing through immigration and realizing you are leaving Indian soil

2) Being much larger than the average Indian hence being able to bully my way into getting more than my fair share of the airline seat armrest.

3) Seeing the words "Welcome to Japan"

4) Getting out of the hotel and just walking around the city

5) Listening to school girls giggle as I try and figure out how the subway ticket vending machine works

6) Watching them blush and squeal as I hold up my newly acquired ticket and give them a thumbs up and a wink.

7) Putting away my map and trying to find my way back to my hotel on my own.

8) Half an hour later realizing i dont know where the hell i am :P

9) Deciding to turn one more corner before i open up my map...and realizing my hotel is in front of me :D

10) Striking up a conversation with a cute Japanese girl with the words "Hi.....im lost"

11) Realizing that even if the girl doesnt speak english..... a Joey style "How ya doin" is now universal :D

12) Shaking my head when the next sentence out of her mouth is a volley of fast spoken japanese, with the only words i can understand being Chandler, Rachel, Monica, Ross and Joey (in no particular sequence)....and no one seems to remember Phoebe....

13) Pressing the wrong button on a keyboard and then trying to explain to internet cafe guy "How do i make my computer speak English"...in sign language....

14) Saying a silent prayer before eating something new, exotic...... and slimy.....

15) Watching the face of the old woman who made it, break into a beaming smile when i show her a thumbs up .....

16) Getting an extra piece for free because of my charming smile :D

17) Speaking of universal. "Say CHEEESE" and holding up your fingers in a V

18) Getting back to your hotel room after walking for 12 straight hours, thinking you will rest for an hour before heading out....but heading out 10 minutes later , because...well.....its JAPAN....

19) Heading to the roof of the tallest building in the city and yelling "How ya doing JAPAAAAN"

20) Getting to my destination after changing between 4 subway trains without using a map :D

21) Striking up a conversation with other tourists from all over the world.

22) THE FOOOOOOD :D

23) Watching an old lady walk up a slope clicking pictures and smiling to glory whilst her family trudges up behind her, huffing and puffing

24) Looking at the soles of my new boots and realizing that ive worn them down quite a bit over the last week.

25) The memories that hit me when i reach the airport and see the sign saying "Thank you for visiting. Please visit us again"

26) My family waiting for me at home though its 2 in the morning.

27) My dog waiting for me with his leash in his mouth and a wagging tail.

Midnights

It is a question that has plagued midnights through the ages.

When eyes are are bleary from hours in front of a screen (whether monitor or television). When the mind is content but the body wants more. When creativity is at its peak, and you feel nothing can stop you from tasting the fruits of your endeavour, you find yourself asking the inevitable.......”Where's the Mayo?”

So you had a snack at 7. You know you should not have, but those potato chips looked just so darn appetizing. Every neuron in your brain warns you against it. “Dinner time is appoaching” they say. But your hand moves on its own, it just wants one....just to taste....get the grime of the day out of your mouth, and maybe one more...oh you cant stop at two....

It takes exactly a third of a bag for the taste in your mouth to change from savoury saltiness to metallic guilt. That last crunch always coincides with the clock striking 7.45. Now you have less than an hour to go, and you can hear noises from the kitchen. You wonder if the spoons and forks so hated their time apart in their respective containers, that they need to have a banging good time. The plates just cannot wait to pile on top of each other. .

You look down at the bag in your hand. You wipe the other one on you trousers and try and remember if your mom is in a good mood. You hope she wasnt. At least then she didnt slave too hard over the stove. Nothing to feel guilty about, ....maybe one more......

We then skip forward in time to the screen. No other sendentary activity consumes as much energy as your eyes staring at a screen . Mankind blinks every 5 seconds, but perhaps the glare increases the frequency. Yes, that is where the calories went. You watch your calories by watching a screen. Of course guilt is directly proportional to calories. So a snack seems more of a reward than an indulgence.

There is only one stop for the beast. The fridge door opens, you look around, you exit with a sandwich. The rest of the kitchen sits as a dark mystery. You dont want to turn on the lights. Im sure the spoons and forks need their rest. One of the plates looses out, but we all need to make sacrifices for the greater good.

Now a midnight sandwich is a special animal. It has no class, no taste, no theme. It is akin to that loose t-shirt and faded jeans combo that you have worn since you were able to shave (irrespective of whether you are a man or a woman). It is there for comfort and not aesthetics. It is never discussed outside your house, except in sagely yet humourous prose with subtle philosophical contexts.

The contents of the sandwich are chosen by logical elimination. Only if you can answer in the affirmative to any of the following , are they laid on the sacred bread:

1)Is it cheese?
2)Can it be spread or sprinkled?
3)Is it safe to eat though i think its been here since last august?
4)Is it edible?

Once you have slapped, spread and sprinkled everything together, you then leave the spoons to their forks and you exit to the safety of your room. Ease of picking up the sandwich depends on the proportion of sprinkles versus spreads. You lick your fingers first, hoping it will give you an idea of the future. You eye it one last time, and then you bite, which always leads to the inevitable.

“Needs mayo”.

Getting Lucky

Best read in sequence with : Twisted Desires

Twisted Desires

Psychobabble

Venus isn't far enough....

Catch em young