a day later i can insert titles!!

it's frustrating that i can't insert a title for my blog entries. blogger's screwing around with me which isn't news because i am convinced the whole cosmos is against me right now. oh how i wish if he came back, if only he realised how foolish he's been and how desparately he wants to be with me, maybe then i wouldn't be spending one lonely day after another but instead be cradled in his arms feeling more secure. i'd still need to find a job to feel more secure though. and he isn't about to realise jack, he was 6"6 which means he had a long way to get his head up his ass. and he did. men do that often but no point berating them, they're unlikely to evolve into sentient beings and i am likely to fall for another eventually. i often wonder which of the species i revile more, i revile me the most, almost as much as i love me but still the question remains: are men more agonizing or women? women for the men they date or men for the people they are? but they (men) aren't all that bad as neither are women, in fact the ones i befriend are downright lovely. this is just a choleric mood and it too shall pass. or shall it?

i'd post something interesting but there's no news fit to print right now. besides london's kinda boring. new york and bombay are definitely more interesting cities, simply for the people that call them home. and edinburgh for a. the scottish accent that wafts through the city everywhere you go and b. the old grand, mysterious buildings. edinburgh and new york and mumbai deserve a post of their own and it shall come in due course of time. my task for the day was to finish fine tuning my cv. and search for a few jobs, that's it. i did speak to a political consultancy firm and they seemed excited about an indian female candidate. the scourge of the exotice fruit. i wonder if that's what i meant o him all the 10 months we dated, a glorified exotic fruit. his lotus from the east. he is scandinavian and presently chatting with me on msn, someone please punch me in the face and tell how fucking unhealthy this is for me!!

i haven't finished fine tuning my cv yet, i have not a clue about cover letters and i realisenow how little my current qualifications mean because so far i have no idea about what i actually want to do. i had ambitions before the course you know. i wanted to be in public policy, run an advocacy center and eventually return to india and acquire some amount of significance as a political strategist. instead i came here, was seduced by the west first and a western man later. and something must have been working for me here because after my dismal Delhi Uni performance in Eco, i aced my course here. it's not like i couldn't have done it in DU, but i just never felt motivated enough to do it. i also discovered pot with a venegeance in DU, that should explain so much. but what do i want right now? like NOW. i want him, this house, a job and some years of certainty. instead i have the inverse and dollops of uncertainty. i don't even know whether i want to be back in India yet.*my friend suggestd i integrate caps into my writing. ordinarily i don't even use punctuation so slowly but steadily i shall reform my style and make it more reader friendly. till then, soldier on my friend!*

i do know that i don't want to be in delhi for years. i have a love-hate relationship with the city of my birth and upbringing. it's made an eve-teaser-slapping, choochiya-ass-kicking, pot-smoking led zeppie and streamofconsciousnesslovingfreak out of me. *yay! yay! faulkner!! this is a hint to which college i attended in Delhi University* i'm not a bra burner, they'd fall to the floor if i burnt mine. oh boobs!! there shall be a post on you too (two). i love folding my arms across my chest and holding my breasts, it's very comforting, my standard repose. that and stroking my neck. strange no? i've been told i'm an oddity. but resting my head on his chest was comforting too. for future reference he is Lambu (literally from hindi, the tall dude!).

i only left delhi a year ago *did spend 2 years in seattle as a child but for the most part i'm a south delhi elitist snob* but by then i had reached a critical mass of delhi-deploration or self-loathing eitherway i needed to get away. it's not just the fact that every inch of the city resents an independent woman, it's just that despite having many of the attributes of bombay, and better infrastructure, it's so medieval in its outlook. *welcome to north india! there's a jat at every corner* and materialistic *there's a rich jat at every corner*, and given that i do not possess a watch to match every shirt of mine, little matchgirl as i am, you can only imagine how stifling the city had become. don't get me wrong. delhi is my city!! the conflicting emotions it evokes from me are reflective of how i feel about me, perhaps. and so the day i make peace with all the demons in my head is the day i will return to my private ayodhya-ho *my private idaho, it's a shiiite movie* i love my friends there, i love my garden, my ante-room and my bedroom, obviously my madcap family even though they try so hard for me to not to, but on most days i cannot put up with delhiites. the average delhiite you encounter on the road, behind shopcounters, at parties, in clubs, in restaurants, in theatres, in alleyways and temples.......EVERYWHERE!! THERE ARE 12 MILLION OF THEM!!

*breathe.....slow.........deeep.......breathe........lather, rinse, repeat* that's just it, i love delhi but not delhiites. i love its cityscape, its old medieval buildings, its mad streets, the food, the hisotry, the culture, the parliament buildings, connaught place (CP), the habitat centre (IHC), *by the sounds of it i only like south and lutyen's delhi. personally i refuse to acknowledge either West or East Delhi. WHO lives there? i did mention i'm snob didn't i?*, Khan Chacha's Kebabs, sarojini nagar, the metro, PVR Priya cinema, PVR Saket, the Big Chill, the old typewriter shop in CP, paharganj, the old book market, chandini chowk in winters, DELHI WINTERS!, dusk during delhi summers, the IIT fesitval, diwlai in delhi, christmas in delhi, holi in delhi, the old maps and bookstore in Bistro Village, the fort in Deer Park, Lodhi Garden, Lajpat Nagar even, TURQUOISE COTTAGE, the Mezz *rumours of its resurrection still do the rounds in hushed barely contained gleeful whispers alas to die out in the rumor-tuary*, Flavours and my madcap DC gang, that i can smoke pot anywhere in Delhi, Nehru stadium from where I would often score my pot, DELHI FOR CREATING THE MONKEY MAN, the qawwali on thursday nights at Nizzamuddin, the free plays and movie screenings on in the various cultural centres, the british council building, the bookshops, the food, i mentioned that already........yummm yumm yummm......delhi food. see it's a wonderful city save for its people. 12 million reasons to dislike delhi. bombay's not like it, but bombay's a filthy, overcrowded and brutal place but at least it isn't as aggressive towards women. seaside cities are always more chilled out you know. seaside people even. look at goans, now compare them to kashmiris. kashmiris are adorable. i am half kashmiri but they're abit high-strung. someday i shall explain the koshur family to you. you'll wanna be kashmiri then. you should, they're smart, the better looking indians, have yummilicious food and so many gay men to befirend for life. hmmm.......anyway this post isn't about bombay or delhi because presently I'd give a limb to work in bombay, or even the eugenic achievements of the kashmiri pundit, it's about nothing because it's titleless and thus rudderless.

this is why i find it so hard to get any work done in a day, when i have not much to do. my thoughts meander too much, i think too much, i wallow in misery for too long and then soar too high with my flights of fancy, and through this undulation, yet another day passes. all this motion and not an inch of movement. gaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!! i did have a 'mrs. sarla-the-housewife' moment yesterday i.e. i did get around to doing something. after blindly watching cable-enabled tv all day i finally arose at 6 pm to cook yummilicious chicken curry and daal for my poor white collar slave labour friend. he was very appreciative, i cook well. :) at least i like my food which i saying something a year ago to this date i landed in england brimming with ideas about the political eocnomy of late capitalism but not a clue about how to chop an onion. do note, burnt food is a great incentive to learning how to cook, at least for an epicurean like me. (which means i eat anything with maida and meat!)

ok so this is the end of the post. if i had a title then i'd be able to structure my thoughts better and conclude with a point to make. i have no point to make. this is too formless for my liking. until i figure out how to defeat blogger, i shall not be posting. given i have all of 3 readers, one of whom is me, this isn't much of a tragedy.

alvida!