Teller of Stories. Reader of Movie Scripts.Reader. Writer. Joker. Overanalyzer. Me. My Ruminations. My Stories.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Wedding, Stars, Lights and Christmas
So this time I decided to just make a bulleted list.
I just spent the last 5 days in Goa as a bridesmaid at my best friends wedding and to celebrate Christmas... So what did I do?
Pre- Wedding
- Had the most delicious home cooked Goan food
- Lived in the beautiful Goan house
- Spent the 2 days before the wedding roaming around with the bride, groom and brides bro for last minute wedding stuff
- Practiced falling over each others feet with the best man. This involved a lot of prodding and nudging and pressing and other filthy sounding words, since we could never get each others cues. This was supposed to look like Waltz.
- Bride and Self got ourselves pampered at parlour.
- Tried to comprehend and manage all the secret surprises each member of old and new family were planning for each other. I was the secret keeper.
- Gave the much loved and already used wedding gift to bride and groom.
- Did a lot of dirty talk with bride, groom and brides bro, pretending 8 and 10 year old ring bearer and flower girl did not understand a thing.
- Did church rehearsal, where tried not to trip over illogically built step halfway through the aisle
- Best man and I tried our waltzing during above church rehearsal (in the aisle) much to disapproval of other people in church. In my defence, it was his idea.
- Bride and I and flower girl tried on our dresses and floated around the house , day prior to wedding. All this when groom was happily sleeping in next room.
- Got tanned, burnt and sweaty in hot Goan Sun
- Had the most delicious home cooked Goan food
- Lived in the beautiful Goan house
Wedding
- Dropped self's jaw when saw bride in wedding gown
- Modestly decided did not look so bad myself
- Declared wedding photographer was God after seeing photographs taken before setting off to church
- Fell in love with above photographer and decided to have him for own wedding (as photographer that is) at the turn of next century
- Practiced the first waltz with best man (this a repeated theme as you might notice)
- Reached church and met up with guest milling outside.
- Walked down aisle behind bride and her 7 mtr trail, without tripping on mentioned illogical step
- Got through ceremony without any major embarrassment to self
- Did not like the fact that " You may kiss the bride" not declared by priest.
- Liked the fact that groom decided to do so anyways when next part ceremony had already started
- Spent most of time doing something or the other to brides 7 mtr trail
- Grinned giddily with happiness at bride when she turned around.
- Left for reception place
- Distributed confetti with other brides maid best man couple
- Slowly and steadily got increasingly nervous about toast and first waltz.
- Entered with bride and groom ( wife and husband??) and did walk-around and got confetti all over hair and dress
- Sat at bridal table, attended cake cutting
- Said toast along with best man which self thought went off very well (complemented a lot on toast later by absolute strangers ... so verified i think)
- Drank only little champagne so as not to get woozy before the big first waltz
- First waltz - Best man and self made fool of ourselves. But think (self-delusion) only brides bro and other people who saw us practice, actually noticed gaffes
- Then danced the night away with other best man (nubile youth of 20). Shamelessly flirted with 20 year old and felt like cradle snatcher. Helped that above nubile youth danced like dream.
- Learnt and executed with characteristic brilliance (!) the waltz, the 2-step, the cha-cha-cha, jive.
- Did shameless booty shaking dance along with bride and other girls from bride-side.
- Other brides-maid and self did loads of dress shaking and swirling around (said dress was wine-red spaghetti strapped salsa type dress)
- Lost sensation in feet but continued dancing. Could not stand on own two feet by end of evening. Note: Not effects of alcohol since drank next to nothing.
- Encouraged bride and goom during kissing game
- Tied up bride and groom with ribbons. Considered leaving them like that.
- At end of reception full bridal party went to booked hotel room to say bbye to bride and groom.
- Everybody took off shoes and coats to get comfortable must to dismay of bride and groom.
- Politely escorted out of room by not-so-subtle hints by bride
Post - Wedding
- Had the most delicious home cooked Goan food
- Lived in the beautiful Goan house
- Spent the whole afternoon at beachside restaurant Brittos with friend.
- Attended Christmas mass with bride, groom and brides bro and mom
- Spent entire mass trying to stop the siblings from pulling up my dress...embarassing me in public in a fine art of entertainment for them
- Then grooms family and brides family and me..went for post mass celebrations (read eating) to the bride and grooms hotel ( we really love to visit them there). And ate a concoction of Christmas Pudding with brandy (from Harrods) mixed with butterscoth ice cream mixed with chocolate ice cream with wine poured on it .... eating in tea cups and saucers and wine glasses and ice cream tub covers.
- Left them at around 3:30 am and came home and crashed
- Spent a day mulling around said beautiful Goan house.
- Left Goa.
All the stuff I want to say, I want to express, I can't do in words.
It was an over whelming experience. Thank you to all who made it so.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Free Verse
I look at you
And wonder
Are you alone
Are you with
And I wonder
What you feel like
I imagine shoe laces
Untied
I see that rough stubble
Under your lower lip
Fingers intertwined
Skin pressed
I feel your words
Entering my soul
And I talk, and listen
And smile at you.
___________________________
Curled Fists
Little hands
And feet
Wrapped Shoulders
And a trembling neck
Your look of complete trust
My spasm of uncontrollable fear
My crazy dreams for
years in another decade
Your insistence on
here and now
The gurgle, the burps,
The toothless smile
My need to use cliches
To explain the unmeasurable
___________________________
Urgent Neat
You enter and set the bag firmly on the floor
Parallel to the edge of the cupboard
You adjust the bag till its entire side
Is on the tile edge
You slowly remove your jacket
And carefully place it on the back of the chair
You smooth out all the wrinkles
Carefully not to leave any behind
I watch as you remove
All your clothes one at a time
Folding each into perfect quadrangles
Piling it on the extra chair in the bedroom
And then you stand back
In your naked splendour
Surveying your handiwork
Reviewing the geometric patterns
I know while leaving how
You'll put them on with the same care
Not leaving a trace of the afternoon
No wrinkles, no hair out of place
The only lines I see are the ones on your body
The only thing I want to do with your clothes
Is tear them off you, dishevel your hair
The urgent need I have has nothing to do with neatness
Whoever said the mistress has the exciting life?
Monday, December 10, 2007
The Man Under the Shirt
I was just turning around the corner in my rush to get to the ladies room. He had just come out the "boys room" and came around the corner at the exact moment. With me just about to go to the restroom and him just out of it, standing in front of the bathrooms, wasn't exactly the most romantic of first meetings. But then you couldn't really call it a meeting. A hastily mumbled sorry, a quick almost non-look in each others direction and we were on our way. His face didn't even register then. The only reason I know it was him, was because of the horrendous, fright of colors shirt he was wearing. My first thought was that people seemed to be taking this casual Friday dress code a little too far. My second was that he must be seeing someone, for no matter how brave a man is, he wouldn't wear a shirt like that unless it was a gift worn coz of a very compelling need. These thoughts passed through my mind in a couple of seconds and I forgot about him. The only thing that stuck somewhere in my subconscious was that shirt.
The second time we met, he was in the same shirt again. I mean it couldn't have been someone else wearing a similar shirt could it? At which point I should have walked away. A man who thinks that that was a shirt to be worn repeatedly was not to be pursued, I mean business networked with. But would I listen to my rare sensible thoughts? No. So I stuck around, as he waited for his mug to fill up at the coffee machine. He seemed to staring fixedly at the oddly dark brown, semi translucent liquid that seemed to be dropping into his mug. As the stream stopped, he picked up his mug and as he walked away he peered inside and only then did he realized that there was no milk in his coffee. He turned around and looked straight at me. "I guess, the machine's run out of milk powder", I offered in the away of a lame excuse (worst first line ever?). He smiled a very rueful smile, walked back, holding my glance (drooling stare?) and proceeded to empty the contents of his mug into the basin.
Then followed the usual, which business unit/ practice/ project do you work with, questions that must be followed according to "The 7 Rules of Highly Effective first time coffee machine conversations". Once the said questions from the script were gone through, we made some inane remarks about the absent coffee and after an uncomfortable 0.6 min which I spent wondering how someone this good looking, I mean with such in depth knowledge of the business, can wear such a shirt (I really need to get another line of thought! …ummmm…no! no! no! this is office! Let's just think about the shirt. ), we went back to our respective seats.
So then of course we'd run into each other often. I mean on a floor seating 100 odd, you are bound to, aren't you? So we finally reached the stage in our relationship (sporadic 15 second "accidental" encounters), when we could start asking certain questions to each other. So with shivering temerity, I popped the question. "So, what's with the shirt?" Really Nandita, a man's salary, his golf handicap and his choice of shirts are his own business. Or are they?? He had the gall to reply, "What shirt?". As if there were loads of shirts he owned, that needed to discussed. I shudder to think of the world if that were true. "The shirt you where every Friday!", trying to keep the emphasis out of "every". And I realized a little too late that me noticing what he wears every Friday, became very obvious.
However, apparently men do not get these subtle hints, and he proceeded to tell me, the story of the shirt. To cut a long story short…
This was the shirt he had worn, when he had his one and only kiss.
I know I should have walked away, when I saw that shirt.
Disclaimer: For any women from my workplace, reading this, this is a work of fiction and bears no resemblance to any man, alive or dead. There are no such good looking men in our workplace, with or without shirts, I mean with or without bad shirts.
Note to Self: The situation is in serious need of correction if your fiction is also full of losers.