[Yesterday]
Haan toh bhaiyon aur behno. Setup samjho, scene ke peeche bhavnaon ko samjho. Esha thehra (aisa thehra being a favourite expression of elderly Kumaonis) ki main apni zeher si zindagi (ref. Saali Khushi, sangeet Amit Trivedi ka aur lafz Amitabh Bhattacharya ke) mein thodi khushi lani ki koshish kar rahi thi. Aur aaj mausam bada be-imaan hai (I may have eve teased some of you lucky ones with that song, love it). Dekh rahi thi Band Baja Baarat. And I've just realized that my hair as of the moment looks more Ranveer Singh rather than my usual Shahid and Shahrukh phases. NEEDS to visit Nancy for some follicular kung fuu. Anywayz, basically feeling like a gabru jawan. Decided to go up to the chatt in the bawandar (yes, I love that word, ok? It sounds so much better than 'dust storm') to chill a bit. 'I lean against the wind pretend that I am weightless and in this moment I am happy' and all...you know what I mean?
Walking backwards with dust slowly covering you layer by layer while the wind shoves you out of its way.
Phir my mother was all 'Bhag DK Bose, andhi ayi!' (PS: HOW fucking ridiculous is Imran Khan trying to be all punx.. And the guy playing drums was Jai's best friend/neighbour in Just Mohabbat if any of you remember)...you'll get struck by lightening, meri nazuk phool si bacchi etc. So I had to come downstairs and now I'm here writing to you. Ma apni bahu se paer dabwa rahi hai (Bahu is the uSqueez foot massager) and drinking some Sand Piper 'beta, zara do tho chilled fridge se nikal de apni boodhi ma ke liye'.
Mujhe toh bhej diya kamre mein.
I'm losin it, brothas. I need to drink copius amounts of alcohol and smoke a forest worth of maal. Laundon ke saath tafri maarni hai. Waise har exam ke baad tafri hi maar rahi thi, lekin apne sabhi bhaiyon (aur khoobsoorat khawateen) ke saath mazzzze hi kuch aur hain. Totte aur jotte, as I always say.
I've been a bit downtown lately, what with my love away in the mountains getting all spiritual and shit. But yeah, I have weird zone-outs, with drunk relatives taking afternoon naps in my room and me awake listening to Begum Akhtar while staring blankly at Canton Commercial system. It's not anything in particular it's just I'm decidedly not thinking about the stuff I'm supposed to be thinking about and so idle mind and all... the downtown just sort of creeps up on you. In such situations, if I don't want to revel in self pity I turn off the Akhtari Bai and turn on groovy, mellow, rasta Latina (from Argentina?) Alika (of Alika Y Nueva Alianza). I've had her music since school and felt the urge to listen to her album Sin Intermediarios after a long time. Of course the only bits of her songs I understand are the usual jah rastafari conquering lion of the tribe of judah I&I stuff but there are always good beats that make you dance around in your room. Here as far as I can make out she's saying something about 'soon we will end the problems of the world -something something- I'm going home to live with jah'.
The other thing that calms the nerves during the last few desperate hours before you decide to give up and go to bed is a cup of coffee (well if its made by me it probably is rich like the blood of an emperor and bitter like the heart of a witch) and Amadou and Mariam. Mali has some really good bluesy but very distinct musicians like Ali Farka Toure (and his son Vieux) and Tinariwen and they're all killer guitarists. Amadou and Mariam are making me want to visit Bamako.
And the goddamn Opium Wars are making me read Thomas De Quincey which is making me want to smoke some...
[Today]
I had an hour long bath with all sorts of Mango Body Shop shit and now smell like an alphonso and am also drinking mango lassi. I feel like Katrina Kaif in the aamsutra ad...or some terrible cliche from a Booker prize winning book by some NRI or the other.
Last exams are the worst because the desire to say 'fuck it' is greater than ever before...and all you can think of is the ensuing FOPS. Now Rinki is sitting next to me on the phone and telling her friend 'Saare ladke ek jaise hi hote hain...haramkhor' I hear that very often so I put on Black Lips (sad that they'll never come to India again, thank you Chennai cops) instead and watch birds bathe on my balcony. I haven't seen sparrows for a long time. And there's a robin too.
I don't even know why I write this shit anymore. None of this makes any sense, I'm sorry.
Tune in later for updates on post-exam debauchery and angsty interludes from the summer of uncertainity.
Haan toh bhaiyon aur behno. Setup samjho, scene ke peeche bhavnaon ko samjho. Esha thehra (aisa thehra being a favourite expression of elderly Kumaonis) ki main apni zeher si zindagi (ref. Saali Khushi, sangeet Amit Trivedi ka aur lafz Amitabh Bhattacharya ke) mein thodi khushi lani ki koshish kar rahi thi. Aur aaj mausam bada be-imaan hai (I may have eve teased some of you lucky ones with that song, love it). Dekh rahi thi Band Baja Baarat. And I've just realized that my hair as of the moment looks more Ranveer Singh rather than my usual Shahid and Shahrukh phases. NEEDS to visit Nancy for some follicular kung fuu. Anywayz, basically feeling like a gabru jawan. Decided to go up to the chatt in the bawandar (yes, I love that word, ok? It sounds so much better than 'dust storm') to chill a bit. 'I lean against the wind pretend that I am weightless and in this moment I am happy' and all...you know what I mean?
Walking backwards with dust slowly covering you layer by layer while the wind shoves you out of its way.
Phir my mother was all 'Bhag DK Bose, andhi ayi!' (PS: HOW fucking ridiculous is Imran Khan trying to be all punx.. And the guy playing drums was Jai's best friend/neighbour in Just Mohabbat if any of you remember)...you'll get struck by lightening, meri nazuk phool si bacchi etc. So I had to come downstairs and now I'm here writing to you. Ma apni bahu se paer dabwa rahi hai (Bahu is the uSqueez foot massager) and drinking some Sand Piper 'beta, zara do tho chilled fridge se nikal de apni boodhi ma ke liye'.
Mujhe toh bhej diya kamre mein.
I'm losin it, brothas. I need to drink copius amounts of alcohol and smoke a forest worth of maal. Laundon ke saath tafri maarni hai. Waise har exam ke baad tafri hi maar rahi thi, lekin apne sabhi bhaiyon (aur khoobsoorat khawateen) ke saath mazzzze hi kuch aur hain. Totte aur jotte, as I always say.
I've been a bit downtown lately, what with my love away in the mountains getting all spiritual and shit. But yeah, I have weird zone-outs, with drunk relatives taking afternoon naps in my room and me awake listening to Begum Akhtar while staring blankly at Canton Commercial system. It's not anything in particular it's just I'm decidedly not thinking about the stuff I'm supposed to be thinking about and so idle mind and all... the downtown just sort of creeps up on you. In such situations, if I don't want to revel in self pity I turn off the Akhtari Bai and turn on groovy, mellow, rasta Latina (from Argentina?) Alika (of Alika Y Nueva Alianza). I've had her music since school and felt the urge to listen to her album Sin Intermediarios after a long time. Of course the only bits of her songs I understand are the usual jah rastafari conquering lion of the tribe of judah I&I stuff but there are always good beats that make you dance around in your room. Here as far as I can make out she's saying something about 'soon we will end the problems of the world -something something- I'm going home to live with jah'.
The other thing that calms the nerves during the last few desperate hours before you decide to give up and go to bed is a cup of coffee (well if its made by me it probably is rich like the blood of an emperor and bitter like the heart of a witch) and Amadou and Mariam. Mali has some really good bluesy but very distinct musicians like Ali Farka Toure (and his son Vieux) and Tinariwen and they're all killer guitarists. Amadou and Mariam are making me want to visit Bamako.
And the goddamn Opium Wars are making me read Thomas De Quincey which is making me want to smoke some...
[Today]
I had an hour long bath with all sorts of Mango Body Shop shit and now smell like an alphonso and am also drinking mango lassi. I feel like Katrina Kaif in the aamsutra ad...or some terrible cliche from a Booker prize winning book by some NRI or the other.
Last exams are the worst because the desire to say 'fuck it' is greater than ever before...and all you can think of is the ensuing FOPS. Now Rinki is sitting next to me on the phone and telling her friend 'Saare ladke ek jaise hi hote hain...haramkhor' I hear that very often so I put on Black Lips (sad that they'll never come to India again, thank you Chennai cops) instead and watch birds bathe on my balcony. I haven't seen sparrows for a long time. And there's a robin too.
I don't even know why I write this shit anymore. None of this makes any sense, I'm sorry.
Tune in later for updates on post-exam debauchery and angsty interludes from the summer of uncertainity.
8 comments:
Haha, he's so predictable!
And my urdu is just a few words thrown here and there, mostly from being Lakhnavi, haha.
BTW! Happy Belated Birthday! I didn't have your number. :(
I just stole some mins on the 'comp'. the mountains are my new god bro, we're actually spiritual beings having a human experience ahahahha. this summer is a little bit of a let down after all the high expectations.
Haan, them having human experience I agree.
The summer has only just begun, cheri.
I feel bad about the black lips too but it was the wrong audience - check out the iron maiden tshirts in the crowd. they presumably had different expectations. and i thought for one hot sec that bawandar means gazebo. what's hindi/urdu for gazebo? is it something close?
I'm not sure. I'm assuming something like chabutra or machaan.
Bawandar means duststorm bro.
And apparently the kids were having a good time, it was the fest authorities. It was a kinda bad idea to have them at a college fest, they don't even let you swear and shit in those places. But then again the fests are the ones who have the money.
doesnt' barsati mean something like a gazebo? there's a video of it on youtube, looks like the kids were booing or throwing things at them (not in a friendly iggy pop kind of way, though i just looked now and they've removed the chennai video. all the kids had iron maiden shirts..but, goddam can you believe scheduling them on a travesty like campus rock idols?
No. A barsati is a room on the terrace of a house, for staying in during the monsoon usually but people use them as apartments, students, couples without kids and shit. Ma used to live in one with a couple of her friends near GK.
If they were playing at a club it'd have been fine.
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