Saturday, October 31, 2009

Just don't ask me why.

I’ve done several stupid things in life, of course. Beginning to list them would just be idiocy. But one of them stands out with a bright pink ribbon on as being absolutely ridiculous, for me atleast.

Once, around three years ago, I was addicted to codeine. I was a hardcore insomniac and would literally spend weeks of sleepless nights, just tossing feverishly. It helped me sleep, it helped me function throughout the day. And then it helped me sleep again. Back then, nothing could beat that simple bliss of simply being able to sleep in peace. And then somehow, when I got a tad too attached to it, I stopped it, withdrawal symptoms and all. That's another story though.

Early this year, I was depressed. Several horrible things had happened and I just couldn’t be more torn or trapped in my own head than I already was. And unfortunately, possessing the brilliant habit of overthinking things and turning them over and over in my head, on one particular evening I could simply not take it anymore. Just being conscious was driving me crazy. That, and my tendency to sleep whenever I’m depressed joined forces and told me to have some codeine again so I could sleep and escape the madness that was my very being. Half a bottle worth, to boot. And then I slept. And slept. And fell upwards in my sleep. And gibbered. And spun. And tossed. And cried. And flailed. And had the most miserable, trippy, crazy, depressing 15 hours of sleep ever. And woke up the next day, still depressed, but determined NEVER to do that again. Insanity. Not only was everything I was obsessing about magnified, but twisted and vibrant and mashed up in my head at the time. If that makes any sense at all. There was one very glaringly obvious lesson learnt.

Now, it’s just reserved for when the weather changes and I get one my famous colds that insist on lasting for a month at a time.

(Now pay heed to the title people. It's there for a reason.)

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Horn OK pretty please

I love my room back home. It has one and a half bright green walls, is cool and airy, has a ginormous wardrobe and a huge bed. And it is just not me at all. Also, since I’m out of the house for 9 months a year, it has turned into a store room of sorts, accumulating random unwanted clutter that floats around my house and finally ends up in my room, like the proverbial watery grave. Random files, paper (oh so much paper), unattractive showpieces that were gifted to us, clothes that are not old or tattered enough to be properly thrown away, which languish in there with some valiant hope that they will be worn someday, like when the mood strikes someone to wear those sky blue silky bell bottoms bought in 2002 again (what WAS my mom thinking when she got me those things?) or clothes that people (read me) hope to be able to fit into again someday. Sigh.

Because I can, I’ve gone all out in my room in hostel. I’ve painted one wall, printed out a dozen carefully picked posters and put them up, put up some quirky paintings, hung up a beautiful mask I got as a birthday gift, stuck pretty postcards above my mirror. But if I could, I would go nuts in my room back home.

One wall of dark red/purple/maroon, retro pop art decorating the walls, vintage posters, psychedelic sheets, a red Lazyboy couch, a massive wooden bookshelf, wooden floors, a bamboo swing in the balcony, a flower in a mottled green wine bottle on the windowsill and my pièce de résistance that I bought only a couple of days ago, an ancient looking truck horn with a gorgeous metallic green curved body and a bright red ball-like thing you can honk on that makes the most hilarious sound ever and makes everyone who sees it laugh in incredulousness as to why I would buy such a thing, up on one wall. You MUST know what I’m talking about. It makes you want to write a song titled “Horny OK Please” as soon as you look at it.

And oh, before any of this, I would rush to remove the two lurid scary blue tubelights that my mom got installed because she thought that it would give the room a “cooling effect”. What it really does is make my room look like something out of the twilight zone or a creepy testing lab floodlit with UV light where some alien baby is being spawned. *Shudder*

Ah the urge to decorate prevails. My tiny 8x10 hostel room has no space for me to do anything more. Must restrain self. Yes mom, this is a hint. :D

Monday, October 05, 2009

Dance with me, sway with me.

So there was this Music Festival here. And it was absolutely fantabulous. It, being the second concert (perhaps third) ever of my life, it far exceeded any expectations that one might have entertained.

Yours truly being a person of the shy reticent and vanilla kind when it comes to people she cannot go and break down uncontrollably to, bouncing up and being one of the first people to start dancing in front of a thousand people because the group playing on stage was just so fabulous, now that is a feat. Going up and telling the brilliant yet shy Marwari folk artists how great they were (while everyone concentrated on the cute UK guy) and watching them get overwhelmed,  jump up while dancing and giving a lead vocalist a high five, telling him you lust after his bright gold shoes with electric pink laces, dancing with a gorgeous Rajasthani eunuch with (alas) a better figure than yours, watching stoned hippies dance gracefully in a trance, laughing with unknown foreigners at the sheer beauty of it all, dancing till I was tired enough to collapse, losing any and all inhibitions.  This was a whole new world.

Held at the so-gorgeous-it-hurts, beautifully mood-lit Mehrangarh fort, and lasting till 2 in the morning, these dazzling couple of days spent at the festival seem to have just made me utterly and completely depressed. On one hand, you forget all your work for just a little bit and live in this dream land of lights, architectural wonder, rhythm, harmonies, fusion, dreamy musicians and one perpetual high. And then one is forced to come down to reality again and despair that one will never get a job. 

Life should be one eternal music festival. I have missed out on so much by not doing this earlier.