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Narcissa: a journal about me
Below are the 25 most recent journal entries.
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2008.08.10 19.13
the allegory
the plaster of paris is not drying. its so easy for everyone else to be whoever they wish to be but i have to create myself from scratch. the right proportions of everything, so that it can be poured into the correct container. and the inevitable wait. for it to dry.
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did i add too much water?
Mood:  pensive
Music: carly smithson- total eclipse of the heart
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2008.02.19 20.51
of love and other demons
while wiping the dust off books in jawaharlal nehru library, mumbai university, i encountered harvard alumnus abha dawesar's novel babyji. in no way a homophobe, i detest the crassness with which homosexuality is sometimes portrayed as it was in babyji. another novel i recall loathing for its sheer lack of artistry was r. raj rao's the boyfriend. it made me seriously question the publishing ethics of penguin. too many people seem to be writing merely because they are black or belong to a diaspora or homosexual or a minority of some sort. perhaps i am a tad old-school, believing as i do in 'writing is for writers', and not 'content is king'. that is, i wish content did not you a writer make!
and then there is jeanette winterson. her fluid prose slices through your skin to get under it, and is visual and tactile all at once. love for her, is ethereal poetry. in 'written on the body', she writes, "My eyes are brown, they have fluttered across your body like butterflies. I have flown the distance of your body from the side to side of your ivory coast. I know the forests where I can rest and feed. I have mapped you with my naked eye and stored you out of sight."
canadian-trinidadian author shani mootoo is another writer who able depict even horrific images of rape and incest with a surprising grace. reading her work made me believe that violence can co-exist with tenderness. her novel 'cereus blooms at night' leaves you with a profound sense of loss, and admiration for her original and sincere voice.
maybe mr. rao and ms. dawesar ought to take a few leaves out of these books and study them carefully.
Mood:  annoyed
Music: ella and louis- lets call the whole thing off
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2007.12.26 18.01
quoth me
trying to explain my last relationship to a friend i met after a long time:
"i wanted to break up with him, he wanted to marry me. basically, it was a HUGE clash of interests."
Mood:  amused
Music: christmas jazz!
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2007.11.19 17.05
another urban portrait
i was travelling to office today when a little family clambered in at byculla. the mother had short hair, and was listening intently to her older daughter who was tall, had an animated manner and a ponytail. the little one had a similar ponytail and a wide eyed expression.
as i was readying to leave the compartment at vt station, i saw them wave to their dad, who was in the general first class compartment. i stopped short. suddenly i realized that mumbai had never really assimilated and wholly embraced us as a family. we never did get to visit chopsticks for the brunch on a sunday or go enmasse to prithvi for a play. i wish i could have discovered the myriad bylanes of fort with my parents, as they stopped to mildly argue over the legitimacy of pirated computer game sellers.
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but i am happy that i have not passed through life untouched. i am blessed to have the ability to see the beauty in the seemingly unexceptional moments that many may miss.
we're just one compartment missing today, but we'll make it.
ek raah ruk gayi,
toh aur judd gayi.
main muda toh saath saath,
raah mud gayi.
hawa ke paron par,
mera aashiyaana.
Mood:  nostalgic
Music: musafir hoon yaron- kishore
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2007.11.04 14.37
for rajlakshmi: coercion DOES have its uses
there is so much that transpires in my life that should prompt me to write. as i sit here, with a little dog balancing herself with desperation on my knee because of her fear of firecrackers, i think, that this sentence has become too long and is incorrectly punctuated.
hardly self-reflexive, this. writing is now my profession. i no longer delight in being prolific and profound, pithy and pragmatic or alliterative for that matter. many-a-time a radio crackling at midnight on a dusty road has filled my allegedly poetic spirit with a welling of verbosity. i wish i could be a malaprop by association. being materialistic is much easier than anything, especially making pad thai noodles.
5 things on my desk right now that i love:
my first lil black dress, courtesy MNG (placed on the desk deliberately for mention/discussion)
oriflame's grape antioxidant day cream
my new sony w700i phone
my latest barbie complete with a green and gold sari
the merchant of venice edition purple shakespearean quarto notebook
Mood: pseudo-lit
Music: saiyyan
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2007.09.28 16.06
happy birthday
"But the Viennese answer is better. We say, 'I keep passing the open windows.' This is an old joke. There was a street clown called King of the Mice: he trained rodents, he did horoscopes, he could impersonate Napolean, he could make dogs fart on command. One night he jumped out his window with all his pets in a box. Written on the box was this: 'Life is serious but art is fun!' I hear his funeral was a party. A street artist had killed himself. Nobody had supported him but now everybody missed him. Now who would make the dogs make music and the mice pant?"
-John Irving, The Hotel New Hampshire
Mood: nostalgic
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2007.09.05 22.50
chapter 5? a dolls house
i can only hide from you what i cannot admit to myself.
a plastic world is all that remains of my girlhood. it hides in a box under my bed, awakening with every nightmare that i find him in, naked, bruised, small, dying.
he would buy everything that money could buy, till he'd collapse in a heap alongside papers and books and cards and loveletters and the shards of his family. i breathed, unnoticed in the next room. took apart miniature homes and painstakingly arranged the dolls into postures of happiness. my absolute, tangible universe. i determined its certainty and existence.
in a fit of fury, he'd sweep into the room and sell every memory it contained to the anyone who wished to create a new one. the other occupant of the bunk bed had left before it did. dismembered, it trudged out of the door and the kind aunty suddenly paused near the verandah to ask me, "are you selling the bicycle too beta? how much for the bicycle?"
but i've packed it with care, in myriad packaging. its knotted safely, arranged by the room. don't get confused if you find the kitchen appliances mismatched. don't confuse the terrace garden with the patio.don't ponder over the filigree work of the out-of-proportion elevator. don't lose my childhood in the swish of tiny satin skirts.
Music: john denver- rocky mountain high
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2007.08.21 11.00
poppish musings
once upon a time....
i fancied myself a poet and filled lined notebooks with verse both banal and mildly plagiarised from pop songs
i thought no one would wait for me if i bent down to tie my shoelaces, i kept up the pace and tripped instead
i believed that my parents would unite, and be a collective entity i could cherish consistently
i wished bread wouldn't make me fat and no one i met could peel the layers of my skin to reveal my vulnerabilities
i knew that fuchsia was really MY colour and remained in denial in a bid to appear an intellectual
i was under the impression that superficiality and intelligence couldn't coexist
i understood telugu and and spoke it with a great deal of familiarity, and proud to be a 'linguist' and not a polyglot
i was certain that when i was 22 i would be completely sure of everything i was doing
i could catch 12 dead butterflies and store them in a calcium sandoz jar without flinching
i didn't believe that a dog would miraculously bolster my self-esteem to the universal standard
but these aren't regrets, just some poppish musings on a life half lived.
Mood: amused
Music: you're my love
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2007.08.07 10.53
careless update
so here i am eating sausages on a rainy day. but its always a rainy day these days.
the problem with the world is that there is too much rain in all the wrong places.
pseudonymous writing keeps me alive. in the non creed sense.
waiting for someone to start me off on my MA, i lose 100 brain cells a day (whats the average again?)
rylan, if nothing, we seem to be together in sickness (blows nose)
feminists and pseudo-feminists and those threatened by feminists (aka men) ought to read Fear of Flying by Erica Jong
rainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrain
Mood:  sick
Music: rain rain
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2007.05.13 00.24
the awakening
upon popular demand i return, with the pithiest of understatements.
life is good.
Mood:  accomplished
Music: jod jod
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2007.03.12 23.41
chapter 4- the brave girl in the pink jacket
sliding doors are not supposed to swing vertically in the breeze.
be brave, your mother will be okay if you pray, said my father. what if i slit my wrist, said my mother, what if, knife poised in hand. i had planted some seeds in the garden and they didn't grow into saplings.
there were jagged pieces of broken glass lining the bungalow walls, and climbing over would have been impossible. so vijay and i tied a bucket to a rope threw it over, just to see how delightfully simple it was to transport pieces of stone from the gully on the other side. its always simple when you pray.
baba is has gone away for a little while, she said gently. hes very sad and the nurses will take care of him at the hospital. i'll run away from here, he said, six years later, and we'll go away, you and i, where people understand me. i know you believe in me, like your mother never did. and when he comes back, she said optimistically, we'll make sure he sits at a table and writes, babdakatabda.
don't take off your pink jacket, i told myself, they'll see you. they think you are ugly, fat, hateful, stupid and poor, its true, don't take off your jacket. but teacher told you have to sleep now, sleep now, sleep now, sleep now, sleep now, they chanted.
i closed my eyes and took off my jacket.
Music: -
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2007.03.06 15.51
so if you have been wondering where i am, i'm right here, grating my synapses over elizabethan prose and first world war poetry and what not. yes, my BA finals are in 16 days. in the background is shady recent hindi film music
so heres what i have listening to
1. sajna main vaari vaari- honeymoon travels ltd (see it, its mindless fun and unpretentious)
2. golmaal - golmaal (tell this woman so sing more, oye manchanda!)
3. aaj ki raat- don (very 70s dhinchaak)
4. disco 82 (bappi da need i say more)
go ahead. judge me.
Mood: kicked
Music: all of the above
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2007.01.11 18.58
browning (on bread)
to kasaundi, dijon or whatever your alias is.
mustard
how do i love thee? let me count the ways
i love thee on bread, wheat and rye
my palate you please, and oh i do sigh
at the ends of meals, and topping my Lays
i love thee adding zing to my everydays
most eager need on plate and side dish
i love thee freely as a bong loves fish
i love thee purely, in manifold ways
i love thee in shorshe baata, you put to use
on my old cheese and my childhood maachh
i love thee with my mind, that i seem to lose
with my lost taste, but i love thee with bread
the salamis and sausages in my life, and if mom choose
i shall love thee better, unless the fridge be dead.
[those who identify the original sonnet correctly can reward themselves with a bottle of this stuff. i dont share my food]
Mood:  bouncy
Music: amazing grace
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2007.01.02 15.25
the subtle transition to 2007
while i do understand that my readers are waiting for my year end declarations with bated breath(the narcissism, assuredly is still intact), i must say, i am too apprehensive/excited about the coming year to elaborate on the many successes or non successes of 2OO6. for really, this coming year will shape the rest of my life.
but every single year has shaped the rest of my life. and i am grateful for it.
happy new year everyone.
Mood:  hopeful
Music: random hip hop at kangles
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2006.12.26 23.11
testing for naishad
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2006.12.23 18.28
bah! humbug!
alas, relatives descend upon us this christmas. the rarity of which in the kanjilal household ought to shake us to the very foundations. perhaps we are beginning to become a normal, perchance even a hospitable home. normalcy shivers me timbers, darlings. mayhaps i ought to drown myself in the dystopic climes of the lord of the flies. well, it would certainly further the cause of receiving a bachelors degree at the end of this academic year.
truly, a mood indigo widow has no cause to revel in the festivity of x-mas. however, christmas food could make its surprise appearance and change things tremendously in the favour of optimistic carolers such as jim reeves.
until then, ho ho ho, hum.
Mood:  complacent
Music: jim peeves- i'm dreaming of a dull christmas
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2006.12.09 16.39
long standing goals seem nearer than ever suddenly. decisions that will shape the rest of my life must be taken in the next six months. and i find myself uncertain about my decision making skills, after a terribly long time.
rational issues must be addressed, before i can re-affix my goals. and who knows perhaps old goals shall have to be replaced by entirely new ones. all i can hope is, that these choices leave no room for regret.
targets must incorporate and make the most of change.
Mood:  determined
Music: nam myo ho renge kyo? are u sure?
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2006.11.14 23.50
understatement
applause is addictive.
Mood:  crazy
Music: what dyou know we got a show!
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2006.10.30 09.31
yes i have been away from these climes. due apologies.
ithaka progresses beautifully, though if i hear the grease medley again, i may puke. professor kalyan sunder has rather gotten into the swing of things, much to the delight of our (real) professor shefali. and my itty bitty lil sis has landed self a solo! woo hoo.
amongst other secrets i have revealed in this space, i am abominably lazy. just wish i had the time to practice it.
Mood:  tired
Music: all i care abt isssssssssss LOOOOOVE
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2006.10.20 04.13
ring ring!
my mother and sis gifted me a gorgeous opal ring set in silver. its glassy and translucent, largely reflecting a light purple hue, which as luck would have it is my favourite colour. its large enough(perhaps 2 cm in diametre) not to be too blingy, yet is significant. i've wanted to own a ring like this for the last 4 years!
looking forward to spending my 10th diwali with abhinav. heres some port wine, to old friends!
Mood: joyful
Music: oh holy night
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2006.10.17 04.22
as i speak, my mother is driving around in goa, with my sister chilling (occasionally yelling and navigating) in the passenger seat. i wish i could have been there, but i did make a commitment to ithaka that i must honor.
but i am planning to throw a party at home tonight. usually hosting parties makes me really nervous, and i never enjoy the experience. today hopefully, will be reasonably calm(*hint hint ladies and gentlemen*). cheers!
amongst other things, i begin working with the ngo vidya today. i will be teaching hindi medium subjects as well as english. really looking forward to this!
Mood: hopeful
Music: evita
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2006.10.15 21.46
random
days go on lazily, even though work piles up in a seemingly inconquential fashion. soon it will hit me, soon my results will be declared, soon all the schezwan sauce i consume solitarily will burn a hole in my stomach lining.
until then, snooze.
Mood:  lazy
Music: csny
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