The 1000th post: Turn the page

This is officially my 1000th blog post on this blog. To celebrate the occasion, I have decided to do something radical.

First of all, I’m going to change the template so as to make the blog look less depressing. If you are wondering why I had chosen the earlier (dark) template, it was because things were getting a little too depressing in my life back then. Now, things have changed. I hope for the better. New apartment. New life. New career. Everything has changed in my life. I hope this turn of the page is for the better!

The following content might upset the stability of all relationships in which one of the partners likes handsome young men. It is advised that people involved in such relationships should meticulously avoid exposing themselves and/or their spouses to the content.

Second of all, I’m going to ‘come out’ in the public with photographs which reveal my face. Don’t shriek! (to gay/bi men of all age groups and straight/bi women of all age groups)

If you are wondering why I’m doing this, here’s the answer. I think that a beard/moustache makes me look mature and full of substance. A clean shaven look give me the twink look. Here, I’m giving you an opportunity to decide what looks best on my face. The fact is, Vinokur likes me clean and scruff-less. I like the other look. Vinokur promises to love me more if I stay clean. Back me up in my fight to retain my facial hair!

 

 

 

 

Of Spittoons and more…

Back in the time of Xander, I used to indulge in jokes about S’ spitting habits. “What would you buy for S’ b’day?’ ‘A golden Spittoon!’ S. had gotten addicted to a particular type of chewable tobacco some years back. It’s called RMD from Manikchand. People affably refer to as Manikchand. Those who aren’t addicted to it would hate it. It is, and not ‘paan’, the reason for the reddish stains on the walls of all major cities and towns of modern India. For those in Gringo land, this is a blog post that I found which tells you more about this particular form of addiction.

As all addicts, S. claims to not ‘like’ this habit. He says he wants to get rid of it, but can’t. Such is the story of my life that most of my very close friends have one addiction or the other and I have not been able to do anything about it. My old friend Jeremy (I don’t know if I referred to him on this blog using another name) twice got so close to getting out of smoking. He still smokes. Xander still drinks a full pint of Rum almost everyday along with 2 – 3 packs of cigarettes per day.

But the most disgusting amongst all addictions has to be chewing tobacco. S. does it always. He looks even more asinine when he has his buccal cavity full of the red colored juice. He spits it out to any place which he’s not ashamed to spit into. And, he’s totally ‘shameless by the way. When he can’t find a suitable space, he spits into bottles. He uses Tropicana Twister mini bottles and Gatorade bottles especially for this purpose. At any point of time, you would be able to find 3 – 6 bottles of red, disgusting spit in the place where he’s living. And that, sadly, includes his friends apartments. Presently, he probably has about 20 – 30 sachets of this everyday. That works out to about 150 to 200 Rs. per day. No fucking wonder where all the money that he makes/borrows goes to.

To highlight the traumatic nature of spit in the household, I’m posting, with severe reluctance, a few snaps that I have taken.

 

 

 

For those confused, anything which has a hue of a dirty red in these pictures is caused by the spit!

The Palm Tree snaps

I really don’t know why I’m doing this. Last week, I took a few snaps of this palm tree in the lane leading up to the apartment. I thought they were good photos. I think I would like to test that with the audience in the blog. What do you think of these pictures?

I personally love #5.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s a mess!

In the last two days, I’ve managed to shift all of my, S.’, JD’s and the other two band member’s stuff to my new apartment. It is a big fucking mess. S.’ apartment is not going to be ready until Sunday. So I can’t move half of the stuff up to his place. My cupboard and bed aren’t going to be ready until a couple of more days. So there are literally dozens of boxes, bags and musical instruments scattered around. I don’t have space to put things after sorting.

Don’t believe it huh? Here’s some hardcore photography.

I’ve got the electrical work done. The plumbing required is too expensive for me now. So is a gas stove and a cylinder. And I have to cut down my expenses as well. I have a refrigerator, microwave, a toaster and a coffee maker. I guess that’s a good start.

But for sorting out the mess, I don’t know where to start. The relief is that my computer is up and running with a good internet connection and I have WorldSpace satellite radio blaring BOB round the clock.

Friendship?

All the paan stains that I had to scrub off yesterday would have led anyone to shudder and throw up. The tiles in the toilet, a wash-basin (sink) the actual toilet bowl! Aaargh! This is all thanks to one person; the one and only S. I think I’ve been kind and generous all my life to him. But how does he pay it back. By being lazy and dirtying the apartment, borrowing money and not paying back etc, being inconsiderate and being lazy.

The other two band members of ‘Noise Market’ have also been kinda ignorant of my need for help. They didn’t even offer help for shifting apartments. How much can I ask people for help?

My new apartment

Check this out. My new apartment. The bare blue-print is first. The second image is the present plan. The third diagram is the future plan for the living room. Comments are expected! Please!

My friend’s first dig at writing

A friend of mine from my adolescence has recently started his blog where he’s pasting his first book as posts. I read the first of the posts and thought that it was funny and interesting. Since I myself want to travel through this road of writing, I decided to link his blog up to mine.

So, go check out ‘Vicious Circle No. 1‘ and comment on it.

The beard, ageing and party

I didn’t announce it here on the blog I guess. It was part of my overexpectant nature on the couple of days before the exam. I had taken out my beard and moustache for the exam. While the barber was wiping it off, he was skeptical. It was something whose growth he himself had been a part of. After the beard came out, I suggested to keep the moustache. I studied my face intently for about 3 seconds. Just the moustache (the kind which has almost vertical pattern by the angles of your mouth) looked good. But I thought about why I should risk any facial hair when it may hamper your exam odds? That’s how it came off as well. After the entire depilation was over, I looked again at the mirror. Absurd! More adolescent than adult, I thought.

I came back home and hooked up with Vinokur on Skype. He was thrilled. As always, he loved my face without any hair. He explains that it helps to unravel my emotions. With the beard and moustache, the eyes are the only things which sort of divulge my emotions. This way, the clean-faced way, I looked about 5 years younger and much much more better. But still, I wasn’t convinced.

The maid said that I looked better with the whole beard/moustache conglomerate. Her daughters, all six of them, indicated that they preferred the earlier me. S., although, suggested that I looked better.

Whatever it was, I HADN’T liked my bare face. I was determined to grow my facial hair back to how it was. Vinokur tried to persuade me from that. I thought, why not. I meant, why not ‘not’ grow it as that would make Vinokur happy!

Today, I tried this new look in public. Most of the people didn’t recognise me. That was a shock. Just 4 months back, I was clean shaven. Now, people can’t recognize me without the beard? Strange, ain’t it?

In the afternoon, I managed to shift a lot of stuff to the new apartment. Despite me running low on cash, I decided to go for the GB party. I went with a fellow lawyer friend of mine and his handsome friend. At the party, a few more managed to make it evident that I had changed a lot.

I was getting a little bored with all the dancing, trance music and lack of conversation when I noticed this huge man with a black T-shirt which clearly indicated that he loved bears. Hanging out with him was this gorgeous bear, 45ish, who had a clean shaven head, a trimmed beard and a moustache. I thought maybe I could hang out with them. At least they presented as a welcome change from the monotony of rather boyish faces.

I went up to comment on the t-shirt to this ‘bear lover’. There was hardly any response from him. It’s almost as if he was repelled by my boyish looks. I hated that. I was missing my beard too much. For about an hour more, I hung out there hoping to make any acquaintances with mature, bearded, moustachioed men. No luck whatsoever. It sure seemed like I was a bad looking twink without the beard.

I thought it over. It looked like I was ageing. Maturing would be a much gentler word. The beard and moustache sort of made it evident. Finally, it had also somehow managed to make me accept my own looks. Once they came off, I was this much-older-than-a-lad guy who wanted to look younger. My maturity chopped off almost.

I had to rush home earlier because of boredom and this scary thought. I and Vinokur have spent a couple of hours over this and have agreed, for my own interests, to let me grow back my beard. At least, that should save me from this new cause of depression!

Exam’s over

I thought I stood no chance whatsoever until I realized that maybe I could pass the exam by giving it a shot. My father’s astrological readings suggested that I would pass. My sister seemed to have a feeling that I would. Maybe I too started feeling it without any reason whatsoever in the few days before the exam. It all resulted it the hiking of expectations within myself.

I slogged hard on the last 2 days. So hard that I didn’t sleep on the night before the exam. Stupid of me to have done that I agree. But I was trying to sleep on a mattress which had bugs and having this weird feeling of a miracle happening at the exam hall. Some careless excitement for a naive mind.

The status became like this; Underprepared, overexpectant and under-rested. Whichever way you mix it up, the combination is horrid. And it proved bitter as well. I started doing well in the vivas. Then I fell apart. There were some weird questions which were responded to in a stupid fashion. And finally blunders happened.

I almost felt like crying. But I didn’t. Instead, I started talking faster. My Mom and sister who got on the phone immediately after the exam might not have realized this. But I was disappointed. Totally. I felt that I had just seen my life slip away between my fingers. About a couple of months, I felt that Vinokur, and thereby life, was slipping away. About a couple of weeks later, I felt that my future in the band, and thereby life as well, was slipping away.

Why does it feel like this always? I don’t have the answer. And I think I need to find the answer to try and find an alleviant. People with ADD (like Vinokur and his ex) have stuff like weighted blankets for comforting. They should try and invent such stuff for us regular people as well.

Anyway, I recovered quickly enough. Thanks to an extended session of drumming alone where I learnt a few more tricks. My left index finger is a little sore after the session.

I’m thinking – maybe I will get the better of such ‘slip ups’ in the future. I hope it materializes.

Swish’d!

Nobody, excepting me of course, would remember that back in 2004, I was inspired by a blog called ‘Search for Love in Manhattan‘ by Faustus M. D. In fact, that was my first post on this blog.

Tonight, very late in the night, I got so bored of my books that I decided to take a break. As I settled with a cup of coffee in front of Vinokur (over Skype), I had this intense desire to revisit a couple of blogger that I have always admired. I googled ‘Search for love in Manhattan’ and got this revised link to the blog.

I was simply astounded to see that Joel Derfner (a. k. a. Faustus M. D.) had published his second book already. The book called ‘Swish’ is already reviewed highly by sites like Amazon.com! I’m inspired! I’m totally inspired!

On one side, there are people like Vinokur who urge me to read authors like Khaled Hosseni and Rohinton Mistry amongst the other books that I’m supposed to read. And on the other side (curiously enough, both ‘sides’ of this particularly cumbersome epiphany reside in the same city!), Faustus M. D. has just enacted my preferred option amongst my career dreams – to be a writer!