Sunday, May 30, 2010

Foul Play...

Be impulsive...they said

Be 'more cultured'...they said

Stop watching WWE...they said

Be more aware of your 'sensitive' side...they said

And fool that I am, I believed them and followed the instructions. Little was I to know the horrors I'd have to face on this arduous path.

Stop thee, of weak hearts, this tale is not for thee.

I had gone out on Friday and it became quite a late night (or, umm, early morning). Obviously I got up late and was spending a totally relaxed Saturday mostly watching season 2 of Dexter.

As an aside I'm not sure whether I really like the series. The serial killer in the show is not callous / intelligent enough methinks.Also, the plot is a bit weak, especially the Harry angle

A perfect day wouldn't you say? But was I going to let it remain so? Was I going to stop myself from interfering with the diktats of the higher power who wanted me to actually relax?

I would've, except the first few lines of this post flashed infront of my eyes. There is a theatre festival of English language comic plays running in Rangashankara. I've been planning to go for the last couple of days to two very interesting sounding plays. However, I just haven't been able to (had to meet someone after a long time, got late at work and tickets ran out). There was another play called "All about women". Truth be told, this sounded like the least interesting play of the entire festival but at 6 in the evening, just as the dark clouds burst forth, I had this impulse to go for this play.

Now I don't really look for company while going for plays. I mean, it's not like you can nudge the person next to you and crack silly jokes on which both of you guffaw.
Everyone knows that kind of behavior is only acceptable in movie halls and strategy meetings.

So I pulled on my jeans and rushed down the stairs to my car. And then I came back up to pick up my car keys. Rushing down again I negotiated the puddles with elan and eventually managed to step into just one before getting the car started. Stealing a quick glance at my super cool watch I took a little sigh of relief. I had an hour and a half to reach the theater. It was tight what with the traffic, but could be done. Afterall I had done this earlier with an even lesser margin when I'd gone to see a Anton Chekov play (which by the way, was quite bad).

Ha, the games fate plays with us mere mortals

Almost as soon as I got out of my colony I ran into a massive traffic jam amidst shin deep water. Car engine being run to prevent any untoward stalling, I wormed through the jam. As I escaped the reaching-for-me clutches of the jam I had a victorious smile on my face as I saw a clear stretch of road ahead of me and the hands on the face of my watch still looking on favourably. Strange, no one seemed to be taking that long empty stretch, choosing instead to turn right into another water infested jam. Now why would that be?

And suddenly I had a vision! Yes, a real live vision.

And the content of the vision was PS. A couple of days back he had told me that due to some underpass construction they had blocked off the road which had the straightest route to Rangashankara!

I was already beginning to rue my impulsive decision to become more sensitive and cultural. Already I was seeing the merits of watching two (or more) heavily muscled wrestlers beating down on each other in the safe confines of my living room. But I had started, and by God I was going to become cultured today!

I took the most circuitous route possible. On occasions my car took on amphibian qualities to wade through the water pools. The clock was ticking and I could feel the beads of sweat beginning to form on my forehead. Would I be able to reach? Would I be able to immerse myself in the luxurious presence of the play? Would the old aunty in the Premier Padmini car move out of the way...ever?

To cut a long story short I zoomed near the theater with 15 minutes to spare. And as if God was rewarding me for my tenacity and dedication I saw what I have never seen near the theater recently - a free parking spot. Parking the car and tearing down towards the box office was a matter of seconds. Stopping suddenly, returning, and locking the car was a matter of another few seconds.But I knew from the parking spot incident that the Gods were smiling. And really, how difficult would it be to get just one ticket.

Apparently, very. As I approached the box office with an expectant smile on my face, I was faced by yet another smile. The lady there was smiling and shooing away the stragglers trying to get a ticket. All sold out. Yes, it's true.

I'm going to watch another play tomorrow. This one with PS and Z. And we have tickets already. But by God, I'm going in PS' car. If I had to drive there again so soon, I swear I'd cry.

The wounds are still too fresh


Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Ramble along...

Women, are nuts.

And now, as this is more or less an axiomatic statement, I shall not go into the specifics and proceed to giving you a quick update on whats been happening in my life.

Umm...actually nothing too melodramatic.I just haven't written for a while so I thought i'd regale you with some stories, or, you know, just write about my weekend and other regular stuff.

I saw Ironman 2 after weeks of asking, begging, cajoling and threatening people to come watch it. I'm really surprised that it took so much effort actually. Couple of people had already seen it but the others' lack of interest in the movie was quite surprising. I mean, Ironman 1 was pretty awesome!

Anyway, to cut a long and painful story short, I finally managed to convince DU to come along.

As an aside, watching a movie alone is something I've done on a couple of occasions but somehow just didn't want to for this movie as I felt a bit strange. However, going to a play alone is perfectly normal for me. Weird.


It was a awesome movie! Robert Downey Junior brings just that right roguishness to the role of the flawed genius. The dry wit and the brilliant one liners. Excellent watch and though I always say that a superhero should not have his full face covered in his costume, I'd still give this a thumbs up.

Also, on a personal front I'm going to be moving houses in a few days. I'm kinda scared of the work moving is going to entail.

Ok, thats it people, I'm just not getting any writing rhythm going today. Sorry for the rambling post.


Sunday, May 9, 2010

Of Haircuts and Autographs...

Being a known face must be quite weird in a nice way.

On Friday I was driving back from dropping a friend home. The night was cool, bathed with the soft glow of the moonlight interspersed with flashes of harsh headlights as people drove with their headlights on high beam. I was at peace. The roads were clear and I was driving along at a fair clip when suddenly, the right sight vision completely vanished under a cloud of darkness. Fighting panic as icy fingers ran down my spine I got the car in control and came to a halt next to the curb. As my heart slowed down from it's adrenaline charged leaps I had only one thought in mind - When your hair grows so long that it interferes with your driving, it's time to get rid of the inertia and go get a haircut.

Subsequently, I went for a haircut to my regular super, ultra hip salon conveniently located next to the grocery shop and the medical store near my apartment block.

Well, it was all normal, I went there, there were people waiting and I took up a chair and started browsing through the newspapers lying there. Ah, such relaxation.A perfectly normal haircutting experience.

Suddenly I felt, more than heard, something not quite normal, something that sent a jarring note in the otherwise commonplace experience. Looking up carefully I observed both the scissor-wielders looking at me with silly grins plastered on their faces. I was confused, what did I do to deserve this? Was I the lucky one millionth customer? Was I chosen for the annual sacrifice to the hair cutting Gods? Was my hair sticking up at such weird angles that they thought it was beyond any sort of repair?

And then it cleared up. The younger guy opened an almirah and took out a newspaper. It was the DNA paper where my third picture had appeared! They'd actually recognized me in the small photo and had kept the paper. I'd be lying if I didn't say that I wasn't grinning ear to ear. It's such a weird yet fun feeling, eventhough I know that the picture was for absolutely nothing worthwhile! It must be strange for actual known people to have people walk up to them and genuinely recognizing them. Maybe I should try to do something in which this becomes a regular thing.

For a moment I had grandiose dreams of signing my first autograph and more importantly getting a free haircut. But eventually, commerce won and I had to pay up the 40 Rs. he charges.

I did, however, take the newspaper for my records.


Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Page 3 et al...

First of all, I'd like to thank my parents for giving me the good looks genes that I have. Then my Kindergarten teacher for my poise and rakish posing technique.

Finally, I have achieved all that any human can possibly achieve in my short-ish life till now. Yesterday, my picture appeared on the page 3 (party page) of Deccan Chronicle.

And now that I am a legitimate celebrity, here are a few things I want you, the plain ol' commoner, to do:

*1 Bow low whenever you see me, think you see me, actually think of me, or... well, you know, why don't you just stay bowed all day long anyway

*2 You shall henceforth refer to me as "your Exalted Highness". That is, if you actually dare to refer to me at all. Which should ideally be when you're fetching me a glass of water or something

*3 Give me substantial sweat equity in your multimillion dollar enterprises. Just for being as awesome as I am

*4 I will also accept cash contributions to the "I *heart* Swapnil: My favourite celebrity fund"

*5 Oh, and while you're at it, why don't you construct a temple in my honour too?

Was actually at a place where a beatboxing band from UK was playing. Pretty good stuff, have a listen-


I've finally arrived. Photo also in Midday, a feat which is more difficult to achieve than getting into Economic Times or even the New York Times. (Page 16)