25 random things about me

1. I am terrified of butterflies, moths and other things that fly around or make flapping noises as they fly.


2. I am extremely tolerant of other people's views. I like to think that I am only prejudiced against bigots.


3. I love to sleep. I can sleep for 15-20 hrs non-stop. Alone, of course. You are on a behenji website, remember?


4. I hate any kind of physical exertion. I can stay at home watching TV on the same spot of sofa for days continuously without venturing outside. I sometimes fear pressure sores on my arse.


5. I hate going to a beauty parlor, spending money on painful procedures which don't make me look any better or uglier than what I am already. But I still go, of course. When I am forced to.

6. I can bend my second toe under my feet completely. So when I do that, it appears as if I just have four toes. I am aware that my 25 random things are turning into 25 weird random things.

7. I have feminist feelings. I tend to blame all atrocities faced by women on men. Or on religion. I read this line somewhere and thoroughly agree with it. "Men have just two uses... sex and killing cockroaches!"

8. I have a broken incisor and blame all my life's failures on it. It is my bad luck charm.

9. I never get angry at people. If I get distressed with someone's behaviour, I cut that person off completely. Even if I am angry, I can never imagine myself raging at someone.

10. I love giving gaalis. The C ones, F ones and the B ones. I don't know why only guys give gaalis and are surprised, or worse, offended when girls do.

11. I HATE going to weddings. For further explanation-- read Wedding Knells- part One

12. If I didn't become a doctor, I would have loved to study literature. Especially English and Tamil. I wish I had more knowledge of my mother tongue. Its an amazing language.

13. I make most decisions in life based on irrational fears and misjudged premises. It is a typical behenji trait.

14. I am a procrastinater and a pessimist. A lethal combination. If you are extremely joyful, I can get stormy clouds on your horizon in a few seconds.

15. Whenever I get anxious, I am more anxious about where I am going to relieve my delicate intestines, rather than the actual cause of anxiety.

16. I think I am genetically mutated. Too tall. I could sell my femurs to a museum after I die for a fortune. I also have serious doubts on the efficiency of my brain. Considering what topic seriouly occupies my brain-time, I suspect my ovaries have migrated there from my pelvis.

17. I like cracking dirty jokes. Enormously. Especially those which deal with reproduction. Especially when they are masked as innuendoes and most people don't realise what has transpired. It gives me evil satisfaction.

18. I sometimes get out-of-body experiences. When I am staring into a mirror, I feel like I am staring at a stranger ( read: loser).

19. The only things I have honestly pined for are intelligence and assertiveness. Of course, it would also help to be hot and sexy.

20. I like reading novels. Too much. It has made me short sighted, un-sporting, dreamy, impractical and is a pain-in-the-eyes. But I can't put one down once I pick one.

21. I love eating grapes. I like to eat them by unpeeling them. Each individual one. Don't ask me why.

22. My ultimate dream is to become financially independent. That's all. I don't want to be very rich. Just a little.

23. I envy people a lot. Especially some parts of female anatomy. But I have learned better and trained myself to ignore such things.

24. I abhor smoking. Can't stand the smell. Nauseating. Sick.

25. I borrowed my mantra from Dr. KSK..... In life you only need food, clothing and shelter. If you have this much then you should be satisfied. Then nothing can make you sad.

Wedding Knells-2-Ramblings of an idle mind

Weddings, being the flavour of the month, this blog has been inspired by Sam's wedding blues. I've attended only 6 weddings in my lifetime (family or otherwise), so weddings remain a novelty to me. And because, all the weddings that I've attended have been in my native villlages, their memories are vivid, embossed into my childhood consciousness. The hustle-bustle of activity, people strolling freely through the compound and the courtyard of the ancestral house, the rickety shamianas, eating out of plates made of dried leaves, the laughter and the gaiety.

I remember the sight of aunts and grand-aunts all huddled in the huge kitchen, busy frying namkeens in huge black kadhis, the shimmer of oil, the furious chopping of mounds of vegetables, the swish-swish, the khat-khat all seamlessly merging with the babel of voices rising to a crescendo, falling to a hush and then being punctuated by a multitude of giggling. They would then spot me, a solitary skinny figure ( You see, I was the only grandchild for a long time on my Dad's side) standing at the door, dressed in a summer frock replete with flowers, with grimy knees, flywaway curls and forlorn eyes scanning for my Maa and their voices would burst with warmth and welcome. I remember going to my Mum, hiding in her saree and lisping, "Maa, i'm so bored'' and my Daadi would snatch me away, hug me to her bossom, all the time ccoing, "Arre, my Chunnu, my dhanna, u r getting bored! Look at all this, dekho hamaare yahaan shaadi kaise hoti hai. When u'll go YOUR Bombay, u can tell ur friends how we celebrate our weddings, kitna kuch hota hai yahaan". Then I would nod, silently wide-eyed, munching on a hot namkeen while others would coo, "Look how sweet she is!"

I remember the cycle rides with my grandfather, me perched precariosly on the edge of the bar, to distribute cards to nearby places and my grandfather would show-off me, "Arre, this is my eldest son Munna's daughter, Lipi. Bombay se aayi hai" and people would stare at me curiously and whisper among themselves.

Those were the halcyon days of my childhood, the days of innocence, the days when Bombay was a big myth, an impossible dream for these simple-minded, big-hearted villagers. Obviously things are a lot lot different now! But my grandparents' love for me, their eldest son's child, their only granddaughter, still remains as eternal and unquenchable and heart-warming.

The first wedding I actually remember attending was as a 3-yr old, when I had tagged along with my Bua for her friend's wedding. And after coming home I remember complaining to an highly-amused audience,
"Maa, shaadi mein kuaan ka paani (well-water/brackish water) diya tha ,aur aapko pata hai, Dulhaan ne toh make-up bhi nahin kiya tha!"...
...But that was then. Fast forward to the summer of 1994 when both my Kakas were getting married...the first one in my beloved Odisha and the second one later in the month in Mumbai, a week before my 7th birthday. That was my most glorious summer....2 weddings, a birthday and being the centre of attention surrounded by scores of loving relatives(some of them who haven't seen me after that... so the only picture that comes to their minds when my grandmom speaks about me is of a bright-eyed, gay little girl...little knowing what a bespectcled boring behenji I've turned into!)

I remember sitting on a stool in the courtyard, when my Dad's younger brother, a self-professed barber, proceeded to style my hair for the wedding. I was seated apprehensively, akin to a sacrificial lamb, staring at my smiling mother, my baleful eyes dark with hurt and her so-called betrayal for abandoning me to my uncle's scissors. Snip, snip, went the scissors and my uncle kept up a steady cheerful chatter as to how the results would be better than any 'Bombay ka saloon'. In the meantime I saw my curls float down and my body heaved with silent sobs. But the haircut came out beautifully...it was a mushroom cut and honestly no haircut to-date has made me look so good.

I remember dancing with the Baraati dresssed in a peach and pink frilly frock...I danced all the way, for hours altogether, cheered on by people, feet tapping and hips swaying with abandon and finally when I reached the wedding venue, I was so sick and tired that I threw up the entire food and then slept throughout the actual wedding! The Bombay wedding in comparision was more sedate, more formal and probably more 'citified'. But it was fun nevertheless for a 7-yr old kid in an another a new frock.

Those were the last proper weddings I attended. After that the 2 family weddings I've attended have been a blur, a 3-day rush, a quick dash in and out ...plans made in a hurry, calenders checked if the trips could be combined with any weekend/public holidays, Mom taking leave from college, me missing school/college for not more than 2 days, Dad unable to get leave from work...train tickets booked in a hurry, me studying all along the long train journeys, the brief Hellos and namastes to cousins and relatives, the curious stares from my chintu-mintu cousins at this 'brainy' didi from Mumbai, the cursory conversations, the customary murmuring, "Look how big u've become...wish u could've come for a longer time... how much will u study...we are all very proud of u..." These encounters have been like accidentally touching a hot iron, too short, too searing and not without pain.

2001 was the last wedding I've attended. My youngest Mama finally decided to get married and my Mom being the eldest, she was duty-bound to go and see to everything. I went too and it was very enjoyable because there are lots of girl cousins on my Mom's side and only 2 or 3 boys. So the getting together, the gossiping and the dressing up was good fun and timepass.

Ironically, I haven't yet been able to attend any of my cousins' wedding yet. I have missed all the 'next generation'; 'my generation' weddings...6 to be exact! Demands of distance and time, studies and exams have taken the toll...Now I've to keep telling my cousin bro who's next in line to select an oppurtune time, to wait till my studies and exams get over, to which I'm met by an incredulous stare which plainly translates into, " But that would be never!"

Never mind, there are always the behenji weddings to look forward to, which I'm determined to gate-crash...and if a pyscho in a fit of delusion ever agrees to marry me, then I shall solemnly try my best to attend that too. :-)

Wedding Knells

It usually starts like this.

First, there is an invitation by phone. Pleasantaries are exchanged. The good news is passed on from network to network; landline to mobile to internet. Then comes the invitation by post. It is usually glittery with gold and silver paint on it and the usual images of auspicious Hindu Gods and Goddesses. Then comes the constant commentary from my parents about the details of...... The next wedding in the family.

I have always paused to question why I have such an aversion to attend weddings. Usually my family has to plead, convince, threaten, demand and finally resort to emotional blackmail to make me attend one. That happens only after I have exhausted ALL the options of excusing myself from the event. I don't have a big range of excuses. Since I am blessed with one exam every month, I can manipulate and juggle details, so that the wedding day becomes the most crucial arc of my educational curve. My folks eventually saw through it.

Since I am a born miser, and always seem to be down in finances, the amount of money spent on an average wedding unnerves me. Even my bai spent a fortune on her daughter's wedding. The other fact, of course, is that all the money is usually sourced by the bride's family. Which I know is not going to change for a long long time. And another point to be noted is the ease with which most brides assume that the wedding will be financed by their hardworking parents.

Usually just before any wedding, my social conscience awakens and sudden feelings of social injustice to women(read:arranged marriages) and hypocrisy of the society, surface in my soul. This has begun to happen due to two incidents. In the first one, a very educated relative of mine started bantering about my wedding. It was nauseating. He said that it would become very difficult to find a educated groom if I reached late-twenties. And if I didn't marry soon, I would be lonely for the rest of my life. All this, when I was 18. Basically it was bullshit. At another wedding, an uncle of mine presided over the wedding. He has the distinction of having already married off his two daughters as child-brides.

This is not all. If you are still reading this and know me well..... I hate to dress up!!! I hate wearing salwar kameez, plaiting my hair, bangles, earrings and all that comes with it. The most shudder-ful chapter of this is sticking flowers into my hair. I have failed to understand why women find pleasure in poking reproductive organs of plants into their hair.

The climax of my aversion to weddings comes from the endless repetitiveness of it. Each wedding may be special for the families involved. But for seasoned audience like me, it is mind-boggling repetition of the same rituals, same reception, same comments, same jokes.

The only solace for me is the good food. I can't wait to start eating the minute I reach the venue. Especially the desserts. Sometimes, I don't mind sticking a hundred pins into my head just to eat 5 plates of butterscotch icecream without anyone suspecting.

Now, you would wonder why I bothered to write this piece.
Please DON'T invite me to your wedding. I would prefer an icecream at good old Aditi's.