My Kingdom...

... for every crappy evening after work to end like this one.

Innocuously enough, after a horrid and lonely day at work, I was on my way home. Last evening was the first day of immersion for Ganapati and the traffic is usually enough to curdle your marrow. I believe it was an act of God that after leaving work by 19:40, by about 20:35, I was almost home.

Along with the downwind of drying fish, only Ganapati immersions can make one almost regret living close to the sea. Would you believe that it took over 40 minutes to go about 1.5 kms? I would have walked home if there'd been enough room to get off the rickshaw. But as it happens, I'm damn glad I didn't because in my concentrated effort to get home, I'd have missed the show.

And would have had a poorer life for it, I assure you.

Now, if you've lived in India for even a nanosecond, you know that by no means of the imagination is the music played in an immersion procession lounge, house, hip-hop, Bollywood numbers (no people, it's not even that!), or "hard rock." So imagine my stunned amusement when I come across three different groups of people doing:

1. A hip-hop groove - complete with the finger waving and dipping in the air.
2. Pub/lounge bar/disco-type gyrations – a la Aishwarya Rai in Kajra Re to a nankhatai, Bollywood brass band sound!
3. Head banging - nope, not making a mistake here. I've seen enough people head bang in my life to know what this dude was doing.

Now either Ganapati's gone hip or at 26, I'm just plain old!

Understand that I am not being bitchy or nasty about these people. I fully admire and understand the enthusiasm with which these people were participating in the festival. I probably would not be able to do the same. But the sheer incongruity of these dances with the music, the occasion, and the other celebrants was too much fun not to laugh my head off!

The head banger was the best - he was the crowd-watching finale. Initially, he was merely walking along with a procession till they were stopped in traffic. Amidst the dancing, he began a slow nod to the music. And as the music grew more frenzied, with growing fascination I watched him bend half-over and begin a full-blown head banging number! Rage against the Machine in concert with Ganesha - woohoo!

Every one in a five foot radius stopped dead to stare. I think that was what made him stop dead as well. Unfortunately, my rickshaw moved forward right then and I lost sight of my head banger friend. I kept looking back for him but I think he'd melted into the throng. More's the pity because I don't think I've laughed like that in a while. Long, liberating, and stomach-deep laughter - of the simpler pleasures of this flawed life.

Thank the Lord that "these are the days when anything goes." :-)

By way...

... of a tale of silence, this is my story.

Now, it didn't take me over four weeks from getting to Coorg to start my vacation. It would then proceed that it can't possibly take me that much time to tell the tale either. Why then, sweet Christ, the unbearable daftness of being? Of all the loads of crock that I can give both myself and you, there seem to me only three that really count.

Firstly, the processing lab has consistently screwed up the negative scans an astounding THREE times in a row. Logically, this is hardly credible because these guys are among the best in Bombay and they've not bungled a single roll thus far. This time, when the scan is perfect, the image dimensions make a exquisite image look repulsive. When the scan is out, then I want to disown the image anyway! Pray for me - I gave all six rolls back to the lab yesterday.

Secondly, my mum was operated on for multiple fractures a few weeks ago. I suppose championship is genetic because only my mum could have slipped down two stairs (not flights) and ended up with multiple fractures and a dislocation! She is now recuperating nicely, but for me, juggling between work and home is not easy. I must admit, this is more arduous as a 26 year-old working person than as a student.

Thirdly, I've been trying to figure out if I should shut down E Vestigio. I have come to doubt myself and my abilities. Words are more and more punishing to whisper into creation; baring myself more difficult than ever; and the need to be rather than become more desperate than I've ever known. For days, I'd be making notes on one draft after another, unable to complete any one. My endurance and adaptabilty are not what they used to be, I fear.

I should add that these reasons are in no order of priority — simply because, for me, they've been the Brazilian, the lesbian, and the socialite.

I am back, I think. I won't stop blogging but I don't want to proclaim non-dereliction of my duties this post onward either. I don't know where/how the next few months will go. Nor do I know how often I'll be able to post. Ergo, I will hold my peace. The Lord knows I've made too many post, mail, and phone call promises to make a single more.

Before I go, my thanks are due in no small measure to a certain tyrannical friend/reviewer who, for over a month, danced bloody hell on my head. Swore up a storm at me too! Verily, I doubt this would have been posted if not for him. :-)