Do you remember studying for exams back in school? The last one was always the best and the worst - you knew there was just one more to go before the gates of freedom opened, but studying for that one was always so_bloody_hard. When the exam timetable was released, the topic of discussion at lunch would always be either ecstacy at the last paper being the easiest (like English), or moans at some godawful subject that they had left for the end, which would completely ruin the daydreaming you were entitled to. For me this was either Hindi or Malayalam, because both required painful mugging that I always sucked at.
Another thing was - you always finished the last exam before time, even the most painful perfectionist in class (say hello if you reading this, Febin). It didn't matter whether the paper was tough or easy - worries of marks, proficiency prizes, failure (depending on mid-school ambition levels) all faded away once you were into hour 3 of the final paper. The hyperactive kids would start shuffling, the geeks would be busy in mind-numbing activities like double-underlining and margin-drawing, and the corner seaters would be staring out of the window into the cricket-cum-football ground.
And then the Bell of Joy (yes, capitals deserved) would Ring (yes yes , caps again) and all hell would BREAK LOOSE. Obviously, no discussion of answers would take place. And while the buses creaked out and the cycles were drawn out of the shed, everyone would be yabbering about holiday plans - in loud tones, with no one bothering to hush us up. And the air was fragrant, the trees in blossom and the sunrays gently slanting. OK so all that isn't quite possible at noon in Cochin but you know what I mean. It was freedom, a honeymoon, the best rose-tinted view of it all.
And the reason this is all coming back is coz I am on holiday from next week, for two whole weeks. And how I'm feeling right now, is like just before that last English paper. OK not English - coz there is still some work to be done - more like Social Studies - some mugging, lots of trivia. I want to do all this work but I cannot wait to catch that flight and be off. It will be my first big holiday since August, and my first December holiday in - wow - 4 years! All day long I have been browsing the web - places to see, hotels to stay in, food to try out. And I have been reading too - fiction, thankyouverymuch - NOT stock reports, NOT industry pieces, but superbly awesome fiction on jinns and travels and the wonders of the world. And it really feels like there is just that one more paper to go, before freedom comes. Tra la la la laa, la la la laa.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Monday, December 07, 2009
What Kind of a Week Has It Been
So the highlight of last week was lots and lots of moving. Back-breaking, security-pleading, Ikea-dominated moving. And painting and carpentering and humongous bills at Harvey Norman. I'm fairly sure Robinsons will probably pay out their entire bonus package from our bills alone. And I am officially BROKE.
The other - even more disturbing - highlight was a realization of the number of clothes I own. Oh, it is simply suffocating - like the super-tight corset I *don't* own. I didn't dare count, but of the three wardrobes in the house I have taken up 2.5, not counting two suitcases in the store holding ethnic and winter wear. Seriously.
I had had an inkling that this would be an issue, but it wasn't until we actually started unpacking that the reality of it all hit me like cold water on a snowy morning. When we saw this place for the first time I had imagined a lighted, spacey wardrobe with enough air so my clothes would be able to breathe. Like that Heineken ad in the stations. But between all the dresses, sports wear, evening wear, exclusive evening wear, daily office wear, power-day office wear, travel wear, teen wear and gypsy-teen wear (the last category I cannot bear to throw out), I have *way* too many clothes.
The good 3G had offered to unpack my clothes, so there would be some semblance of order in my wardrobe. A couple of hours after he was pretty much scandalized with the sheer volume of cloth emerging from each suitcase. And I don't blame him. It felt like some infinite suitcase of clothes. Every girl's dream? Kinda, but not if you were looking forward to leading the "light-n-airy" life and if you just wanted the unpacking to FINISH!
So you get the picture. My solution? Wear them out. Literally. I am opening up my wardrobe so I can wear my clothes until they begin to look faded/ bad/ torn/ old/ stretched, progressively reducing the weight of my wardrobe until I can clearly see the wall behind when all my clothes are hung. And while I have *no* idea whether that will actually work out, it sounds like a pretty decent plan right now.
The other highlight of the week, and something I have blogged about before as well, is the workplace in December. There is a sudden calm with people going on leave. You can say no to the debaucherous year-end office parties, especially if you've just about gotten married. The markets take it easy most of the days, and we actually have time to think, be imaginative, do the less-urgent work that in my opinion actually generates the best ideas. It feels good, really.
It is a Sunday and I love you all. Muah!
The other - even more disturbing - highlight was a realization of the number of clothes I own. Oh, it is simply suffocating - like the super-tight corset I *don't* own. I didn't dare count, but of the three wardrobes in the house I have taken up 2.5, not counting two suitcases in the store holding ethnic and winter wear. Seriously.
I had had an inkling that this would be an issue, but it wasn't until we actually started unpacking that the reality of it all hit me like cold water on a snowy morning. When we saw this place for the first time I had imagined a lighted, spacey wardrobe with enough air so my clothes would be able to breathe. Like that Heineken ad in the stations. But between all the dresses, sports wear, evening wear, exclusive evening wear, daily office wear, power-day office wear, travel wear, teen wear and gypsy-teen wear (the last category I cannot bear to throw out), I have *way* too many clothes.
The good 3G had offered to unpack my clothes, so there would be some semblance of order in my wardrobe. A couple of hours after he was pretty much scandalized with the sheer volume of cloth emerging from each suitcase. And I don't blame him. It felt like some infinite suitcase of clothes. Every girl's dream? Kinda, but not if you were looking forward to leading the "light-n-airy" life and if you just wanted the unpacking to FINISH!
So you get the picture. My solution? Wear them out. Literally. I am opening up my wardrobe so I can wear my clothes until they begin to look faded/ bad/ torn/ old/ stretched, progressively reducing the weight of my wardrobe until I can clearly see the wall behind when all my clothes are hung. And while I have *no* idea whether that will actually work out, it sounds like a pretty decent plan right now.
The other highlight of the week, and something I have blogged about before as well, is the workplace in December. There is a sudden calm with people going on leave. You can say no to the debaucherous year-end office parties, especially if you've just about gotten married. The markets take it easy most of the days, and we actually have time to think, be imaginative, do the less-urgent work that in my opinion actually generates the best ideas. It feels good, really.
It is a Sunday and I love you all. Muah!
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
Gone and done it!
Guess I fell in love
(Gone and done it)
Must've been the way he walked
(Gone and done it)
Or his sweet, sweet talk
His love gets me every time
My heart changed my mind
I gol' darn gone and done it
Gone, gone gone and done it!
Late morning yesterday in a dusty courtroom in Bandra, 3G and I got married. Signed, sealed, hitched!
It was a simple and neat ceremony, with our folks and the awesome Naveen being witnesses. Followed by some heavy feasting and heavier-duty shopping, we flew back to SG this morning to take possession of our awesome (superb, brilliant, extraordinarily beautiful) new place.
To all you lovelies out there who know me and are about to either faint or call up with the choicest, Safinisque swear words - you're invited! You.are.invited. We will be doing the Great Indian Wedding in August next year, and you are invited. Or will be, once we are decided on the venue and the exact date which, as I am beginning to comprehend, all take time.
On a related note, the good Tarun had a Q to ask, which I'll answer here:
Soon-to-be
Mrs. P?
Sounds classy
But it's not really me
So think I'll stay
Li'l Ms. B
Just married to P!
~Laterz~
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