Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Wring!
I feel like wringing her fat double chinned neck, slowly painfully savoring every second of it. This very deep desire to just end her life because I can’t stand her. It is not hate, not like I care enough to hate, but I despise her existence. The tormenting should push her over. Then I realize she is not worth an ounce of anything me. Not my anger, not my disgust nothing, I don’t really give a flying f***.All it does now is to amuse me, the whole web of waves weaved into these relationships and people who behave like she does. It becomes hilarious after a point. Jut pretty darned funny.
The Mallu Land
The temperatures were surprisingly very well behaved. The weather was actually brilliantly drizzly and there was absolutely no hint of bad sweaty heat. The train drew into the station and I got off with that wistful longing to climb right back in and just drift with the train and get off only when I felt like and was not really forced to get off.
Embarking on journeys to God’s own country has always been very interesting for me. My mood relies entirely on where I am going and the agenda. This was not a vacation although I was on leave and I dreaded the whole change of pattern. If I was on a visit to travel and explore, I’d have jumped and rushed into it. This was a visit to family and that meant about fifteen houses and socializing for four days.
Now, the people in Kerala and from Kerala are very strange, bordering on weird almost. They are hospitable and nice but that is only because they make money from tourism. They will never indulge in anything that is even remotely non profitable for them. They have strange tastes and eat coconut laden food and have coconut entwined into every dish possible. Surprisingly, their cholesterol levels are not so high; this could be because of the fish they eat all year long.
I am a mallu, but not the best example by far lengths, to call me a mallu would be committing sacrilege. With a mother brought up in Bangalore and ancestors scattered across the world, I have only a small segment of paternal and maternal relatives in Kerala. The fact that I have absolutely no mallu characteristics and tastes is of great pride to me and the same factor is just as disappointing. My paternal side is staunch Hindu Brahmin and they were the people who owned temples and played priests in the temples. This makes my mother’s Nair characteristics and matriarchal society hand me downs that I possess very alien to my paternal relatives.
They are very simple loving people, but can be very conventional and can be amazed at lifestyles that are extravagant and urban. The way I live and my choices and likes and dislikes are strange according to them. Everyone from my dad’s family brought up outside of Kerala, retain all elements of malluness. I am the aberration and in this case it is not a nice thing to be.
Pallakkad, my native land. The land of heat and boredom, and the driest part of Kerala, dry in all senses of the word. This could be because of the Tamilnadu connection, Coimbatore is right next door you see. Jokes apart, Pallakkad is not really the best of places to visit in Kerala, it’s got no beaches or coastline, there are not too many resorts, and it is not a hill station either. There are places you can go to if you are forced to live here, not the greatest of choices but the Malampuzha dam and fantasy park and of course the trekking up Dhoni mala (mountain). Yes I belong here somehow, through whatever the connection.
One of the things that have really intrigued me about Kerala is how the people manage to have working olfactory systems. The men are constantly sweating and so are the women, the women are worse off because of the horrid bathing system they have going. Hair that is well oiled and then washed, with not enough shampoo to rinse off the oil, then it is not dried entirely and then left wet and long, and tied badly so its dripping with oily water and mingled with sweat. What a pain to walk along streets with coconut oil smells seeping out from shops and people. Looks like the Dubai influence has not really been of any good to the mankind here, I don’t really see rather smell any perfume around here.
This whole smell related chapter in my brain gave me a brilliant business idea, how about starting a soft skill training school on how to smell good or ten ways to reach your perfumed best. But then I realized, like the perfume on you that you can never really ever smell, like the stench of Chennai the folks there never sense, the same holds good for the people here as well, this sweaty coconutty smell is inherent in their daily lives. They don’t even recognize or feel it. It only seems strange to us outsiders as to how anyone can get close enough to another person for anything at all. I have no clue. ;)
The men here are completely egoistical and believe they are god’s gift to mankind; it’s true that every single man on earth believes that this is so, but it’s a tad over the top in mallu men. They letch and ogle at anything that is remotely female. If you are dressed smartly, forget everything else, just smartly can attract so much attention, you will wonder if you were the only woman in planet Kerala. They cannot stop at just using their eyes to strip you and make you feel like an object and violated, they also use their smart ass tongues or so they believe it to be, the bloody bas*****. If you say something in return then they laugh stupidly and move away but the problem is when you are with your family and expected to behave you have to ignore them and walk on like nothing happened. Women’s lib, my foot. But I have great mallu male friends, but all of them, have spent some part of their lives and have been educated outside of Kerala.
If you can ignore the malluness of mallu land to a great extent, or are oblivious to it because thankfully you don’t understand the language, you can enjoy your visit and go back feeling good about the nice things in Kerala, yes I do agree, Kerala has its upside too. Wayanad for instance, will always be close to my heart and regarded with utmost love and special treatment in my mind. After all it is the memory that makes or breaks a place for you…
Embarking on journeys to God’s own country has always been very interesting for me. My mood relies entirely on where I am going and the agenda. This was not a vacation although I was on leave and I dreaded the whole change of pattern. If I was on a visit to travel and explore, I’d have jumped and rushed into it. This was a visit to family and that meant about fifteen houses and socializing for four days.
Now, the people in Kerala and from Kerala are very strange, bordering on weird almost. They are hospitable and nice but that is only because they make money from tourism. They will never indulge in anything that is even remotely non profitable for them. They have strange tastes and eat coconut laden food and have coconut entwined into every dish possible. Surprisingly, their cholesterol levels are not so high; this could be because of the fish they eat all year long.
I am a mallu, but not the best example by far lengths, to call me a mallu would be committing sacrilege. With a mother brought up in Bangalore and ancestors scattered across the world, I have only a small segment of paternal and maternal relatives in Kerala. The fact that I have absolutely no mallu characteristics and tastes is of great pride to me and the same factor is just as disappointing. My paternal side is staunch Hindu Brahmin and they were the people who owned temples and played priests in the temples. This makes my mother’s Nair characteristics and matriarchal society hand me downs that I possess very alien to my paternal relatives.
They are very simple loving people, but can be very conventional and can be amazed at lifestyles that are extravagant and urban. The way I live and my choices and likes and dislikes are strange according to them. Everyone from my dad’s family brought up outside of Kerala, retain all elements of malluness. I am the aberration and in this case it is not a nice thing to be.
Pallakkad, my native land. The land of heat and boredom, and the driest part of Kerala, dry in all senses of the word. This could be because of the Tamilnadu connection, Coimbatore is right next door you see. Jokes apart, Pallakkad is not really the best of places to visit in Kerala, it’s got no beaches or coastline, there are not too many resorts, and it is not a hill station either. There are places you can go to if you are forced to live here, not the greatest of choices but the Malampuzha dam and fantasy park and of course the trekking up Dhoni mala (mountain). Yes I belong here somehow, through whatever the connection.
One of the things that have really intrigued me about Kerala is how the people manage to have working olfactory systems. The men are constantly sweating and so are the women, the women are worse off because of the horrid bathing system they have going. Hair that is well oiled and then washed, with not enough shampoo to rinse off the oil, then it is not dried entirely and then left wet and long, and tied badly so its dripping with oily water and mingled with sweat. What a pain to walk along streets with coconut oil smells seeping out from shops and people. Looks like the Dubai influence has not really been of any good to the mankind here, I don’t really see rather smell any perfume around here.
This whole smell related chapter in my brain gave me a brilliant business idea, how about starting a soft skill training school on how to smell good or ten ways to reach your perfumed best. But then I realized, like the perfume on you that you can never really ever smell, like the stench of Chennai the folks there never sense, the same holds good for the people here as well, this sweaty coconutty smell is inherent in their daily lives. They don’t even recognize or feel it. It only seems strange to us outsiders as to how anyone can get close enough to another person for anything at all. I have no clue. ;)
The men here are completely egoistical and believe they are god’s gift to mankind; it’s true that every single man on earth believes that this is so, but it’s a tad over the top in mallu men. They letch and ogle at anything that is remotely female. If you are dressed smartly, forget everything else, just smartly can attract so much attention, you will wonder if you were the only woman in planet Kerala. They cannot stop at just using their eyes to strip you and make you feel like an object and violated, they also use their smart ass tongues or so they believe it to be, the bloody bas*****. If you say something in return then they laugh stupidly and move away but the problem is when you are with your family and expected to behave you have to ignore them and walk on like nothing happened. Women’s lib, my foot. But I have great mallu male friends, but all of them, have spent some part of their lives and have been educated outside of Kerala.
If you can ignore the malluness of mallu land to a great extent, or are oblivious to it because thankfully you don’t understand the language, you can enjoy your visit and go back feeling good about the nice things in Kerala, yes I do agree, Kerala has its upside too. Wayanad for instance, will always be close to my heart and regarded with utmost love and special treatment in my mind. After all it is the memory that makes or breaks a place for you…
Wiggy Piggy!
Wigs have always triggered my fancy. They are extremely interesting accessories; they can be very amusing to study. The ones I have seen are all so badly designed and fit so horribly, I wonder how people walk around with enough self esteem to muster. I saw a fluffy one today sticking out above the head like a badly designed hairy halo. Then I remembered the stick to scalp variety, the ones that are plastered and thin and look like you parted your hair with the sole purpose of wanting to look like you had a bad terrible day and messed your hair just to show how frustrated you are. Then of course, the funny fly away kind of wig that looks like even a soft blow of air from the mouth will tug it off the head and will leave a sorry scalp behind. Why can’t the researchers and the scientists do something about wigs and not just hair weaving, what about the poor souls that can’t afford it and what about people like us who have to tolerate these eye sores that really hurt the eyes. Please good lord, HELP!
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Comic Entertainment!
I have never ever done anything the way it’s supposed to be done, ever! Ulta only, upside down! I can never manage to be a sophisticate all the way; I am one bloody big blunder buss. Sounds ultra cool, to be like this constant walking talking entertainment package, but trust me, it gets to you at times.
A very cool, confident walk in a sexy dress down the stairs, is ruined because you trip up and fall on your bloody nose and are so embarrassed, but you laugh like no tomorrow, as there is no other way you have ever dealt with falls, you laugh at yourself, get up and grimace at the pain and laugh some more. The whole effect is utterly messed up.
Talk about the time I put on my high heeled dancing shoes, forget dance I could not walk four steps in a row without tripping. Sir had to make me walk up and down the room with a book on my head to try and make my walk in the heels look fairly normal. They are horrid, high heels I mean, they give you pain in your back all the way down to your ankles and they make you trip.
Imagine, I was so high on air, that in a packed house party, when I was the best dressed, and I was anchoring, I clung onto a pole and was hanging down into the dance floor with one hand holding the pole the other on the mike and my whole body was precariously leaning out onto the floor below.
I am not really proud of a lot of things I have done and if I have a crazed image attached to myself, it is purely and solely because of my own amazing ability to mess up. From kitchens to beaches not a single place I have ever been to can complain that it was dull, I was always tripping or falling or messing up somehow or the other.
I am still hoping that someday it will vanish and I can manage to be very cool calm and sophisticated without trying so hard, or I will just resign to my fate and sign it off like one of those things that never ever will work the way you want it to.
A very cool, confident walk in a sexy dress down the stairs, is ruined because you trip up and fall on your bloody nose and are so embarrassed, but you laugh like no tomorrow, as there is no other way you have ever dealt with falls, you laugh at yourself, get up and grimace at the pain and laugh some more. The whole effect is utterly messed up.
Talk about the time I put on my high heeled dancing shoes, forget dance I could not walk four steps in a row without tripping. Sir had to make me walk up and down the room with a book on my head to try and make my walk in the heels look fairly normal. They are horrid, high heels I mean, they give you pain in your back all the way down to your ankles and they make you trip.
Imagine, I was so high on air, that in a packed house party, when I was the best dressed, and I was anchoring, I clung onto a pole and was hanging down into the dance floor with one hand holding the pole the other on the mike and my whole body was precariously leaning out onto the floor below.
I am not really proud of a lot of things I have done and if I have a crazed image attached to myself, it is purely and solely because of my own amazing ability to mess up. From kitchens to beaches not a single place I have ever been to can complain that it was dull, I was always tripping or falling or messing up somehow or the other.
I am still hoping that someday it will vanish and I can manage to be very cool calm and sophisticated without trying so hard, or I will just resign to my fate and sign it off like one of those things that never ever will work the way you want it to.
Topsy Turvy
The whole world is topsy turvy. She is not in the right mood, she has cynical laughter ringing from every cell in her body, but she is smiling on the outside. They say a calm exterior may have the most pent up boiling exteriors ever, and for her with respect to now, that is just so true. She is trying to be funny and cool, I am guessing being Drama Queen that’s an easy thing to do. OK, that’s it, I switch over to the ‘I’ mode, it’s really difficult to write in second or third person.
I think everyone is a fool, every single human being. An absolute fool to accept this reality they live in. It is just absurd. Ironic and hysterically cynical laughter is all I can muster. Let us see what happens next.
I think everyone is a fool, every single human being. An absolute fool to accept this reality they live in. It is just absurd. Ironic and hysterically cynical laughter is all I can muster. Let us see what happens next.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Buttercup!
Imagine, you wake up sick in the morning, hurting and upset and pissed off with the whole world in general. You curse and fret and fume, you try smiling at yourself in the mirror and all you can manage is a bloody grimace. And then, it happens, a magic secret wand waves and lo and behold! Everything spins around.
I am the proud owner of Buttercup today! She is my little Labrador puppy. She is so totally adorable and has left me with the happiest of smiles and shiniest of faces. Now this is the reason for the turnaround of events. I am just so thrilled, Pavi called me and told me she got a lab for me and that’s it, I am in seventh heaven! Grinning ear to ear! Goodness knows what theatrics I will have to stage to get my mom to accept her!
I am the proud owner of Buttercup today! She is my little Labrador puppy. She is so totally adorable and has left me with the happiest of smiles and shiniest of faces. Now this is the reason for the turnaround of events. I am just so thrilled, Pavi called me and told me she got a lab for me and that’s it, I am in seventh heaven! Grinning ear to ear! Goodness knows what theatrics I will have to stage to get my mom to accept her!
Monday, June 15, 2009
SKDQ
There is a story behind the SKDQ. As an extremely expressive persona, I have had to tone down and mellow my outbursts, but all in vain, and from nautanki I have graduated to SKDQ.
SKDQ = SK= Shreya Krishnan
A diary of all the DQ stuff and stories.
DQ and SKDQ patents and rights are owned by Pallavi Nagpal. She christened me that so here are tiny anecdotes from the theatrical life of Shreya Krishnan Drama Queen.
SKDQ = SK= Shreya Krishnan
A diary of all the DQ stuff and stories.
DQ and SKDQ patents and rights are owned by Pallavi Nagpal. She christened me that so here are tiny anecdotes from the theatrical life of Shreya Krishnan Drama Queen.
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