The lure of reality TV…

Nowadays, every channel I turn to has a horde of reality shows. And Indians especially seem to have been bitten bad by the reality TV bug. I have to confess, at first it was just curiosity… now, I know I’m hooked.

Like in everything else, there are good shows and bad. One of my favorite shows is Sony TV’s “Comedy Circus”–a laugh riot through & through. Some acts are pure genius, like this one with Billo and this one with Shah Rukh Vs Aamir showdown. Shakeel, now a constant feature on the show, is unbelievable–more so, because it is obvious that much of it is unrehearsed, on-the-spot stand-up comedy. Archana Puran Singh is a phenomenon, I absolutely love her laugh. Parmeet methinks is a lucky man.

Another of my favorite shows has been Star Plus’ “Jo Jeeta Wohi Superstar” (the grand finale is tonight !)… this show truly brings together some of the best new singers this country has seen. And the sheer talent of the contestants keeps me tuned in every week. This show is also different in that there have not been any over-the-top orchestrated scenes just to boost TRP… the participants are truly gifted, the judges are respectful & genuine and the contest is fiercely fought.

I’m also looking forward to Zee TV’s Sa Re Ga Ma Pa which started last week. This round brings together singers from India, Pakistan, Singapore, USA, UK and UAE–the inaugural rounds were a bit of a shock. The quality of singers is wonderful, it was hard to believe this was the first episode. My current favorite is Asma from Oman–the girl’s got a fabulous voice & a vivacious, unaffected personality. I must say I’m impressed with how far Aditya Narayan has come, he’s navigating some very tricky personalities & situations with great tact & a ready smile. In some ways, he’s like the Justin Timberlake of India–there’s an army of hormone-crazy tweens screaming his name out there somewhere. Tonight’s show had Asha Bhonsle as the special guest, one of the last living legends from an era where bollywood music really came into its own.

Himesh Reshammiya as usual is on some far-out ego trip in a parallel universe. I have watched this man in scores of episodes of reality TV, and I do not get him. If I were to psychoanalyze him, I’d say he has internalized some childhood trauma to a dangerous extent where he suffers simultaneously from persecution and entitlement complex, mistakenly believing that the world owes him a huge debt and that everyone is conspiring to keep him from attaining what is truly his. But then, I’m not a qualified psychologist so what do I know? *wink*wink 

Apparently, Himesh is composing, acting & singing in a soon-to-be-released movie (I’m guessing his hair-weave gone wrong is an attempt to be more acceptable as the main lead)… what is the world coming to?? On the aside, do watch the rerun of tonight’s show, the Himesh-Asha standoff snowballed into a free for all mudsling fest. Himesh outdid himself in offending everyone’s sensibilities and embarrassing the hell out of Asha Bhonsle. Actually, Asha Bhonsle did almost as good a job of embarrassing the hell out of everyone else…

What I’m loving about this show though, is that at the end of the day it’s a bunch of kids enjoying their day in the sun and doing what they love best. Win or lose, I hope they enjoy the ride.

Well, this self-indulgent post has hopefully gotten the reality TV bug out of my system. I’m going to take off now, Jo Jeeta Wohi Superstar grand finale has just started and I wouldn’t wanna miss a sec… *grin *wink

My life in Singapore 2…

Continuing with the quirks of life in Singapore, you witness a strange phenomenon when you go to any foodcourt. Firstly, paper napkins are not offered at every outlet–so those who forget to carry their own will probably have to make sure they don’t need to use one. On empty table tops, you will see small packs of paper napkins placed as if to reserve the spot… and that’s exactly what they’re meant to do. Even now, I find this fascinating… that no one ever just moves those paper napkins and occupies a table, no matter how crowded the place. That line of decency is never crossed. It is the same when you stand in ATM queues… there’s no need to hunch over and cover your PIN coz the next person is standing atleast 3 feet behind you. By choice. As a courtesy.

I find myself bubbling with silent mirth when a taxi driver tells me the traffic situation in Singapore is pathetic and that the jams are horrible… coming from Gurgaon, where getting to office everyday was in itself an exercise in chance, I find it hilarious. How can anyone complain about a place where digital boards overhead show you exactly how many minutes it’s going to take you to go from where you are to your destination? And I mean EXACTLY.

Another very interesting sight, especially for any men reading this blog, is the sheer number of women of every age wearing shorts/ hotpants. It is probably just a step away from being declared the national dress. And the complete lack of neanderthals lusting after with lewd comments and catcalls. If eve-teasing exists, then it is hidden away in some corner. Again, coming from Gurgaon, this is a liberating change for me… to be able to walk around feeling comfortable and secure.

You must be wondering how is it that I have yet to find something I don’t like. Truth is, I don’t see it as a question of like or dislike. It is different… and right now, I’m in a phase where I’m loving the difference. The one thing I really, truly miss about India (apart from family and friends) is dhinchak bollywood… I never thought I’d be saying this, but I do. Now I see why there’s such a market overseas for Karan Johar movies.

Got some great news… I finally managed to convince my mom to spend longer than a couple of weeks with me. She’ll be coming over in August and staying till Diwali. Yay !

On that note, will close the entry for this week… more when it happens.

My life in Singapore…

Speaking of Singapore, I was reminded that I have spent nearly 5 months in this city now. Most people think of Singapore only as a polished, artificial visitor’s paradise. There is no denying that a lot in Singapore is geared for tourism–and the number of annual tourists justifies this investment & effort.  But there is another fascinating side to Singapore that you get to see only if you live here.

The first thing I registered about Singapore, after I left the airport, is the bougainvilleas. There is a profusion of these light pink and magenta flowers everywhere along the roadside. Against the backdrop of the lush emerald green foliage, they stand out in tropical gaiety. The next thing that stayed was the contrast between the inside and the outside–the cloying afternoon heat of an island state close to the equator against the cool, sometimes freezing interiors of every enclosed space in Singapore. One can’t help but think that if it weren’t for air-conditioning, Singapore economy would never have flourished.

I live in a two-bedroom apartment on the west side of the island. The west is, apparently, the wetter side of Singapore. It rains on average a day a week, usually in the early mornings or early evenings. And sometimes, like today, these rains can be noisy and violent.

My condo has a swimming pool, tennis court, squash, billiards, gym… and this is standard for most condos here. Right across from the condo is the biggest reason I chose this apartment. A stone quarry that was blasted for stone filled up over the years, into a picture-perfect little lake. The rock face climbs into the sky, across the lake, and the sun rises over the rock face. Some mornings, I walk across and sit down on the rocky shore of the lake, watching the dappled sunlight light up the rippling surface of the lake. A few people are around, some walking by, some exercising in the open and some like me, just breathing in the moment…

And if it’s a saturday or sunday, I walk down to the wet market nearby to grab a cup of thick, sweet typically Singaporean coffee… now this food-court coffee is amazing stuff, really strong and thick, and instead of milk or sugar they usually mix condensed milk so it stays thick and is very sweet too.

See, here’s another interesting thing about Singapore–there are thousands of food courts everywhere in Singapore, and they have Chinese & Malay food, and sometimes Indonesian, Indian and Thai. And when you walk into any of the Singaporean homes, you’ll face a classic chicken-and-egg question… did the food courts come up first so people stopped cooking & kitchens became small, or did they make small kitchens becaue there wasn’t enough space & food courts sprang up to cater to the need for a more efficient solution? Or maybe the fact that domestic help is so expensive has something to do with it. In any case, people in Singapore do not cook at home (the one cloud in my otherwise blue sky–there is no chimney/ exhaust in my kitchen, nor counter space for anything). Families walk down every single day to the nearest food-court and have dinner, as if they’re walking into their own dining room.

And the one thing you’ll always find at any food-court is one stall that serves whole fruits, cut portions and fruit juices. Every single food-court. Fruits are cheap and consumed generously, probably one of the main reasons why Singaporeans have such beautiful skin.

It’s 7.45 on a saturday morning, the rain has just let up and the skies are still grey & overcast… there’s a lot more about Singapore that I find intriguing and unique, but more about that in other blog posts. For now, I’m going to end this post here and go downstairs to grab my fix of sweetened caffeine…

Knitting away…

So, apparently knitting is my code word for something else… somehow, people find it hard to believe that I knit as a hobby. The truth is, it’s more than a hobby–it’s an addiction. It started out simply enough many, many years ago, an hour a week during craft class in school. Then, about a year back, I picked it up again. And just like swimming, it all came back. So I tried a few simple things, plain caps and mufflers. Then one day I looked up a pattern online  and tried it out–all of a sudden, I was knitting cables. That’s when I realized something… it wasn’t half as difficult as it looked, though it took thrice as long to make as I estimated. And then it all just exploded.

First, I bought a stash–yarn in various shapes, colours and textures. The sheer visual and tactile pleasure of handling the yarn was overwhelming. Next, I scoured the internet for patterns–and I found a treasure trove of designs. A few months more of knitting, and I had another realization that changed everything… I had picked up enough basic skills, and more importantly had developed enough confidence in myself, to go beyond the constraints of a pattern and innovate. I couldn’t find a free pattern for an argyle sweater, so I designed one–I had never tried the intarsia technique, so I found the instructions and learnt as I went along.

Knitting is both technical and creative. When constructing a sweater of the correct dimensions, using a modified pattern, I have to ensure I work out the required stitches and rows and then count them at every stage–that I check the guage and visualize to make sure everything fits, then keep doing quick checks as I progress. At the same time, I love the first phase of choosing yarn type, matching colours, comparing different designs and knowing the aesthetic appeal of the finished piece depends on my creativity and eye for colour.

Till this point, it was a hobby. Now, alone in Singapore with some evenings and most weekends free to do with as I choose, it has become an obsession. Any free time I have is spent knitting. I can knit simple designs without looking, so I do it while watching TV, surfing the net, even while reading a book. As with everything else, I have to multitask. The same way I usually read 3 or more books of different genres simultaneously, I work on 3-4 varied projects using different yarns/ colors/ needle sizes at the same time.

This blog entry is very unlike the overall tone of my blog, but I was chatting with a friend and it sparked off this train of thought. And, 6.45 am in Singapore (lightning, thunder, rains and still as dark as night outside), I felt the urge to blog. I’ve been meaning to start a knitting photoblog, and I probably will when I have finished a few more pieces to display. For now, I’ll content myself with this ramble and (shortly) some photos of finished pieces.

Right, back to my knitting for now…

A whispered ‘yes’

I see you sometimes
In the vaguely familiar glances of a stranger,
Speaking of ties I am only dimly aware of
At a subliminal level…
Shadows interplay
And gazes are uncertain
As is the slow tentative smile
On unknown lips…
The days move seamless,
While we leap,
Moment to defining moment
Until the night
We pause outside my door—
Do we dare?
I am frozen,
A heart scarred once too often…
Make the first move,
I may still have it in me
To whisper a ‘yes’.

A glimpse at dusk…

”Lasha, tumne meri Levi’s ki jeans dekhi hai?” the question floats out to me in the kitchen.

“Haan bachhe, second shelf to the right… theek se dekho” I reply, in the midst of chopping onions, my eyes welling up. “Achha suno, when did they say they’re coming?”

“8 O’clock” he says, walking in and wrapping his arms around me “Tum ro rahi ho?”

“Haan” I reply, sticking my tongue out at him “meri phooti kismat pe”. We chuckle at our standard joke, drinking in each other’s presence. As I quickly drop the chopped onions into the pan, he looks around for something to do. “Plates nikaal do” I instruct, “aur salad ke liye cucumber kaat doge?”

Over the next fifteen mins, as I put together a simple meal of rajma, chawal and bhindi fry, we chat about what happened at work, who called & what they said, and what needs to be done before our dinner guests arrive. We tease, we laugh and we breathe, hardly aware of it.

And we love, hardly aware of it too…

There is a moment, when I know, in my bones, that I am exactly where I want to be…when the words flow exactly as fast or as slow as I like, where conversations and silences blend into each other, where breathing mingles & falls into a single rhythm… and I love, hardly aware that I do…

Faith…

Sometimes, the shadows are so close
I can almost touch them
… the abyss is my heart
and the muted screams,
they are mine
–the fading echoes
from long ago…
He is the ring-master,
the controller of my destiny
and I am his puppet…
that is what he taught me to believe.
And faith…
faith is the vacant soul I offer him.
Wait…
what if he is wrong?
But no…
faith is believing
the ringmaster is never wrong.
He taught me that…

There is a downside to faith too…

A stranger in the storm

You looked at me intensely,
stopping short across the lawns,
as I slipped and struggled to reach shelter…
the rain clinging to my lashes, blurring sight,
and a widening smile
as rivulets of the spring shower
traced their way down my nape…

“I’ve seen her before…” your eyes seemed to say,
your memory struggling to place me…
“where have I seen that smile,
and the way her hips sway…
where have I heard that husky voice
whisper in my ear…
where have I felt the touch of her fingers
sear a trail across my skin?”

“I’ve held her before…” your body cried out
as instinct made you reach out
to hold me steady…
“where have I experienced the urge
to freeze the passage of time
as kohl-lined eyes held me prisoner…
where have I heard myself softly say
‘I can never have enough of you’…
where have I held you close in my arms,
made love, fallen asleep and woken up beside you?”

“I’ve loved her before…” your heart murmured,
surprised by the passion I still ignited…
and you remembered, in a blinding instant,
those dreams of your youth…
the girl by you in the solitary mountain paths,
the one you carried in your thoughts
for conversation, company, companionship…
the one you let go, quietly,
in the valley where unborn dreams wander
and mutely weep, dying unnoticed…
and every so often, a dream escapes,
making its painful way to reality
and standing before you,
pitifully unaware that dreams belong in the past
or a distant uncertain future,
thought of abstractly, till a fly comes buzzing near
and you absently swot the air,
already planning what you’ll order for lunch…

Love cocaine

Deadened are the senses
Here lives the beast
The war, it commences
In the shadows of the east

The blood is fast escaping
Into recesses of the numb
And every breath is screaming
Even though the man is dumb

His soul is mired in guilt
Of follies done and thought
His callused fingers play on
To forget the wrongs he wrought

This man, he lives in despair
And hollow is his life
The hollowness is dripping
From the blade of his knife

He holds on to his angst
Anchors it to his day
And everyday he watches
As his life fades away

This man, he needs to kill
The loneliness that kills him
Before his sorrow cascades
And spills over the brim

He needs a reason now
To hold on to his breath
—someone to pull him out
From the brink of death

Plunge the dagger softly—
Feed him the love cocaine
Pull him closer gently
—love him and ease the pain
…so the shadows whispered…

One or Many…

I think we each carry inside us multiple selves… each responding to a different set of stimuli, each driven by a different cause… the need to recognize this multiplicity is manifested in our manifold worlds, both real and imagined…
At the same time, there is also the parallel need to understand these multiple selves and integrate it into a single appropriate response, a rational process for most part…

Same as the need to belong and yet be recognized as individuals… hence the flux… the need to be ‘one’ with another resulting in the endless quest for a soulmate and the need to leave a tangible proof of having existed resulting in being many…