Random. Structured. Haphazard. All Me.

A Tangled Yarn of Thoughts Being Unravelled…

Recent Posts

  • Womens Magazines: The Serpent of Eden?

    I used to like to read Cosmo and Marie Claire and Better Homes&Gardens until I realized that they weren’t reflective of my reality at all. According to Cosmo (and its ilk) life should be all about my body type, where I’m out on weekends at least 2xs a month and be having rip-roaring, toe-curling orgasms and have at least one LBD in my closet.

    Whereas for working women and working mothers those things aren’t always viable nor always on our radars either. Even for the SAHMs, there’s so much to be done on a regular basis that while you may not feel like Cinderella, self-grooming can take a backseat and at times you do wonder if the gloss you used to sport has gone for good.

    But the difference isn’t in the missing gloss, it’s in the new vision. Things change when you grow older. Midnight marathons of Evil Dead or Police Academy don’t usually provide the  fun factor. Going to a lounge can be fun for the first 30 minutes doing shots; but then you do want something cozier, less noisy and wine along with it. Dressing up to go out and eat seems tougher than dressing down to eat at home with the kid you try to get to sit in one place for more than 5 minutes at a time. Add veggies that the kid needs to eat and dinner time is one big negotiation fit for the corporate boardrooms.

    And while calling women’s magazines as fluff is making a rather big generalization, it’s genuinely not all that realistic either. Sure, I get to know about couture, keeping fit and having a good time but the underlying glamor that seems to run through it all isn’t what most women’s lives are about.

    For most of the working moms I know, and I know quite a few; getting their kids ready and off to school, maybe getting an hour’s worth of physical exercise and also using a hot iron on their hair is a pretty big achievement in the 2 hours you have in the morning. What a lot of these mags do is make us wistful for the life we think is not only possible, but is actually held up to our faces to emulate from. Sure, I’d like to be nicely made up whenever I step out of the house. I would also like be able to do decent eye make-up for a change instead of having lines that resemble a seismogram but is that it?

    Having an exotic drink while sitting in Bora-Bora or knowing the right kind of Hermes scarf to pair with a power suit shouldn’t be the zenith of my aspirations. Or should it? But we also do yearn for that little elusive element in our lives. The one that comes with thoughts of lazing back on a tropical island or living in the lap of luxury somewhere, getting all whims and fancies catered to. And for me, most women’s magazines do provide that. Just up to us to choose what to grab and how much. And I’m pretty sure that I’m the wrong demographic for them because all I want to do is grab a book most of the times and curl up somewhere to read! I doubt I’ll be getting a french manicure anything this century.

     

  • Feminism- Bete Noire or Not?

    A lot of people, including women, have perceived feminists as women who take up the cause of women at large because they have intellect rather than looks or because they think that not having to shave their legs empowers them in some way or the other.

    The Webster Dictionary defines Feminism as: (a) the belief that men and women should have equal rights and opportunities and (b) organized activity in support of women’s rights and interests.

    But it should also be taken into account that women can be just as good at being bad as men. There have been women oppressors who were cold-blooded, ambitious to a fault and power-hungry enough to put a cartload of present day politicos to shame. But they didn’t champion the cause of women. They championed their own selves and their own rights to rule over others. I think the kind of people am thinking about would have done so regardless of their gender but history makes a special mention of them because they are women and therefore expected to be gentler and thereby not have bloodthirsty urges.  Well someone forgot to tell that to Elizabeth Bathory and her ilk.

    For the most part I find that women aren’t too different from men in these aspects-

    • they like to live well. Not necessarily lavishly but live comfortably.
    • they like to enjoy themselves be it at Chippendales or with their besties.
    • they like kids and don’t mind having them but don’t like to clean shit either because mother love says you oughta!
    • they too like a woman with curves and with an enviable physique.

    But over time the kind of people championing feminism have also become synonymous with bespectacled women who didn’t let their mustache get in the way of their looks or teased their eyebrows into a “proper” shape and dressed for comfort rather than to look good aka no heels and eschewing thongs to get rid of the visible panty line.

    In time a lot of feminists became just as bad as the people they were seeking to protect the “weaker sex” from. Germaine Greer said, If you think you are emancipated, you might consider the idea of tasting your own menstrual blood – if it makes you sick, you’ve got a long way to go, baby.”

    That kind of mustabatory statement from a woman, directed at women overall seeks of chauvinism. HAVING to prove myself as being a particular way confines me more than the individual who doesn’t enable me to be more liberated. Think about it, I shouldn’t shave my pits. I shouldn’t like slinky, silky underwear. I shouldn’t bother if my face looks like it needs a lawn mower but as long as I’m on top in the sack I prove myself to be equal?

    Seems like a lot of bullshit and it stinks to the heavens. But Feminism started out on the right premise, as do many isms before they lose their way into the morass of their propagator’s diktats or those of popular public opinion.

    Fact of the matter? Women like to be grungy from time to time as well. It’s convenient to laze around and NOT DO ANYTHING! Grooming takes time, squeegeeing the bathroom after a bath takes time. Unclogging the drain from the long hairs that shed takes times and is yucky.

    Some days you want to sit around, have a beer, not comb your hair, burp, fart and just do everything or nothing; as fancy takes you. And having to conform to a category that lauds you if you do and/or condemns you if you don’t isn’t the silliest prison ever.

    It’s not about live and let live. It’s about sit and have a beer and shut up together.

    Think about it.

     

  • A Quick Preface…

    Over the next few days I’ll be integrating the blog posts from a different voice I adopted a while back. It had its share of no-holds barred kind of posts, feelings and thoughts and for a while it was good to have a sounding board of sorts. But even if it was a different kind of outlet, I’m still the same person and my less than pleasant voice is also a part of me.

    So till the end of Jan, I’ll be taking a look at the stuff written in the other blog and whatever still strikes a chord stays and what doesn’t gets junked. But no more compartmentalization…it’s all part of the same persona at the end of the day.

    Cheers.

  • Reruns

    Reruns

    are fun! They are easy and uncomplicated.

    You watch them because you know there’s fun, drama, tears, shock, eye-rolling moments all packed in.

    And because they are reruns, you never really mind pausing them, running errands in between or putting it off for another day. You know Rachel gets off the plane. You know Meredith and Derek will have their drama together over 11 seasons before he exits. You know Gibbs will keep head-slapping Dinozzo till he leaves too. Beckett will eventually say yes to Castle and he’ll keep being an overgrown baby.

    And yet it’s all fun. And along with it comes the music. Grey’s Anatomy has some really good music; usually softer tracks but chosen very aptly. Castle has some good ones as well. Got reacquainted with this song after years. And this one too both from Castle’s first season. The song my kid loves to dance to at ungodly hours is courtesy an episode of NCIS.

    So basically you’ve got a twofer…a relook at old favorites or at the very least, decent recreation and good music. That’s a good deal in my book any day.

  • Alexa Mornings…

    Red bought an Echo Dot for th house last year. Suffice to say it’s the digital pet. The offspring has bonded with Alexa quite a bit. I keep hearing his voice trilling , “Alexaaaa” on and off right from the time he’s up in the mornings.

    Echo Dot has more capabilities that can be tapped into if you’re an US-based user. Lesser so in India. But apparently this year Amazon Music will be making its entry into the Indian market and then this kid will really go wild. Now there’s a Bluetooth sync with my phone and the songs which are saved on a separate song app or on my phone can be played. But we have to be far more hands on. And we’re all about remote management in this house. If we can just park our butts somewhere and just ask for songs to be played, it would be a pretty darn good thing!

    This morning the offspring woke to a house with an absent father (courtesy a business trip) and he sat and pouted about missing the parent for a bit. And in an effort to cheer himself up, he turned the house into a dance club, playing Bollywood hits before 6:30 am. All courtesy Alexa.

    Where’s the parental settings people? Is that in the next upgrade?

    In the meanwhile, Kala Chashma gets looped sun up to sun down just because Alexa can!

    Yo!

  • Ever Notice…

    Ever Notice…

    how you always eat more when you’re on a holiday? Carbs and protein are attacked with the gusto of being long-lost sibs. And once you’re back home, you can’t wait to be rid of them…like an inconvenient zit or a house guest who’s overstayed their welcome?

    How you can sleep longer on the days you have no one to pack off to school? And on school days, you’re up before the rooster/alarm clock and the guy driving your kid’s bus is the face you long to see every morning?

    When you have a cold/cough/fever…you turn into a human sloth-mole combo i.e you keep burrowing deeper into the covers and your movements mimic the glaciers? But let someone else fall sick instead and you turn into an annoying I-know-best, home-remedy-enforcing, soup-making dictator who has their path to recovery firmly in your control?

    Ah homo sapiens…we’re funny like that.

  • Peas, Worms&Reruns

    I’m stuck with buying frozen peas when my batch of fresh ones run out. I try to buy a few kilos at a time and then chuck them in the refrigerator for as long as they’ll keep and go back to the supermarket for the frozen stuff once I run out.

    Yesterday while I was shelling about 2 kgs of peas, a nice big wiggly worm wiggled its wobbly body out of a pea shell and calmly took a walk across my dining table. If I’d had an empty glass jar at home, I’d have kept it in one, with some leaves to see how much more it’d have grown…nice stuff for MLM to see and learn from without rushing to get Google’s of Alexa’s aid in learning about wormliness.

    But I didn’t have a glass jar and the worm had to be let go in the trash can instead- we don’t squish stuff unless we can help it.

    So on went the pea-shelling exercise while I binge-watched (tried to) episodes of Grey’s Anatomy. It is really like going back in time- unemotional Christina, messy Meredith, sad-eyed Derrick and the list goes on…kind of like the worm I threw out. The little crawler had managed to climb out of the trash bin and had made its way across the floor when the offspring saw it and was creeped out.

    Now, I’ve said it before and will say it again- I don’t get kids! This boy of mine will get droopy-eyed with love seeing a cobra spread its hood or an anaconda squeeze the life out of a prey and get squeamish about a half-inch worm on the floor. Can you feel the disdain and dafuqness coming off me in waves?

    So El Wormo was picked up on a pencil, transferred onto a leaf and was heartlessly thrown down the trash chute. Well, not entirely heartlessly, we did give it a leaf for its journey towards certain death. And if it didn’t die after its trip down 9 floors in a vertical shaft, I’m not going to eat any more peas from that last shelled batch that house Mr.Worm…who knows what kind of mutants we’ll turn into.

    *shudders*

  • New Year Rung In!

    I woke up today in soft flannel pjs and alone in my bed. And it was bliss!!

    Red and MLM had crashed in another room because they weren’t feeling the fun flowing out of the eardrum-bursting music and seizure-inducing lights from the party in our community. I however have lower standards and wanted to experience just some no-brainer fun with friends…

    Image result for cheers gif

    I made the seizure-inducing comment to a friend on the phone, a few minutes back, he asked me if anyone did have any seizures and I told him that there were quite a few twitchy people there; it may well have been a new dance move but I couldn’t tell for sure.

    Image result for twitchy dance gif

    Wisecracks aside…2017 was a thought-provoking year. Things happened, realizations had to be taken on the chin and decisions had to be made. We hit 10 years as a married couple, 8 years as parents and way too many years as “responsible” adults to admit to on a public platform.

    This year has us being a tad more centered, pacing ourselves a bit more and as always…looking for getaways and planning more fun as a family.

    Here to a rewarding, peaceful and mirthful 2018 from me and mine…Cheers!

    Happy Hour Drinking GIF

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    P.S: I have made a resolution to use more gifs this year.

    Image result for booyah animated gif

  • Priorities

    Priorities

    We have a Gopro mini camera. The offspring loves it because he can take it underwater. I love it because it helps me not lug the entire camera gear I tend to normally take.

    For a totally amateur photog I have quite a bit of gear; which we discover only while packing.

    We’re vacationing in Kerala now and I got the head harness for the camera so we can have fun in the ocean and have our hands free at the same time.

    MLM aka the offspring wore his swimming glasses today and mounted the camera on top much to Red’s dismay because in the water the brat turns into a much more slippery customer to tackle. To add to that, the added weight of the glasses and the camera kept hampering his foray into deeper waters. Phew!

    When Red complained to me about bringing the camera along I told him clearly, ” When in doubt, save the kid first and then the camera.”

    Here endeth the lesson.

  • Trivandrum Mornings…

    Trivandrum Mornings…

    Here for a spell. My kid wants to see crocodiles. Look into reptile retail so we can buy one and take it back home. In the meanwhile he had his first lobster…literally willing it to come flying out the kitchen doors. And then later wanted me to turn the crustacean over so he could see the shell and make sure it was what it was supposed to be.

    I woke up to a dark room because the hotel drapes are dark and thick. Two blissfully sleeping brats by my side.

    Stepped outside to Christmas carols somewhere in the distance. Some busboys running around here and there but overall the place is calm. You get to hear birds chirping, no one yelling at their kids to get out to bed but then again there’s always Church where quite a lot of people are to be found this time on a Sunday morning.

    Trivandrum after 14 years…I’ve come to discover you again.

    Here’s to day one!