Blowing in the wind…

Have you looked outside your window lately?

If you are in Bangalore, then I’m sure you are nodding your head in enthusiasm.
I’m so in love with the city right now, I thought I have to document it.

February onwards is the best time to visit the city, linger around all through July. There are blooms all over the streets – yellow cheery flowers, pink happy flowers, and the comfort and romance of my Jacarandas. Then amidst all this the greens everywhere. And the sky such a pretty blue. And the wind! Oh the wind is the best thing about it all. Whipping, teasing your hair and caressing your skin!

And suddenly I realise I am a romantic at heart after all and just two steps away from writing and singing love songs like Michael Buble. May is when it becomes oh-so-yummy you wonder how you can survive anywhere else.

May is almost upon us and for the first time in my life I am not excited about my birthday.
And that is sad. Nothing mature about it. Nothing bitter about it either. It’s just sorrow and resignation – when you’ve lost everything; nothing matters. And when life’s like this, what would be the best colour to pick this year? I think red just to be contrary.

But this is not to be a sad post. It’s to be a long one that rambles all the way and makes you wonder what the hell this was all about.

I miss Infy. I miss Infy because Yahoo! doesn’t think Women’s Day is a big thing or even a small thing. This in spite of having a hell of a woman as a CEO. I fell in love with her when she started swearing during her acceptance speech. And then the respect has steadily increased. I hope I won’t hate her too much if/when my job’s no longer there. And no, that is not to start any rumour about layoffs. That is just to share fear of recession. So no flowers, no wishes, no nothing at Y! because I am a woman. Not even Shaggy singing.

At Infy last year, I was helping organize an event. In the sense that I was approving/disapproving ideas and sharing contacts. And I got flowers from my first and only husband so far. Sigh.

Isn’t it strange how there’s always place in the house for something new as soon as you buy it? And the need? Candlesticks, incense holders, cups and glasses? There, it fits so snugly in that place, you wonder how you never thought of it before and how you survived life without it!

Books are a different game all together. I’ve pretty much decided I have way too many books to live a life free of sneezes. But in a second-hand book shop I’m as needy as a still-hungry newborn babe for the other breast. So books are difficult to fit in my house. But even so with a few nudges, a different arrangement, a whole lot of flexibility – like having at least three on the bed, besides the ten on the bedside table – I am still able to keep them in the house. I wish life adjustments were that easily made. My mom would be a happier woman. I’d simply marry any chappie and fall deliriously in need and love with him and with a few adjustments he’d fit in my life just like a book does in my overcrowded room.

But that’s not happening so I find excuses to drown the thoughts and the pain. Missing someone is easy. Usually I miss about 10 people in a day. Yes, I’ve actually counted. Didn’t go beyond ten as my counting skills are not that good. But ten is easy. I know I miss having Gopic around to bitch with, sing Believe with. I miss Freety when he isn’t around. I’ve gotten so used to having him around always. I miss Vatty for all the laughter and song she brings to my life. I miss Anu when I see beautiful things and when I simply want to have intelligent conversations about this and that. I even miss (god forbid) Manaa’s nagging and Anbu’s double-bitching. I miss the madness Raj bought to my life; Naureen’s dreamy, moony conversations. And I miss Christoph’s happy and gorgeous face. The way he knows exactly when to hold my hand. And I miss my work friends when I’m not around them for idle chatter and gossip about people I don’t know and never will.

See that’s the thing about missing. You can miss many people all the time for that something they brought to your life. But what do you call it when you miss someone who brought you everything? When the miss is not about this or that but everything? Michael Buble again.

But this is not to be a sad post. It’s to be a long one that rambles all the way and makes you wonder what the hell this was all about.

So summer always makes me have these long, introspective discussions with myself. And it’s a pity I don’t live in Koramangala or Indirangar anymore, because summer is also the time I very succesfully snag myself dates with strange men. The weather makes me want to experiment, discover, enjoy the moment. Summer romances typically don’t last beyond two dates. But they are beautiful and fun and make for such entertaining stories to be told to friends. It’s all about the atmosphere.

The atmosphere at hospitals is enough to put the fear of the lord into you. Please, I never want to be hospitalised. If I ever get pregnant can I please have my baby at home? And I’m not even someone who’s scared of doctors or needles. I do have a policy against dating doctors though. I have Roald Dahl to thank fo opening my eyes to the perils of dating doctors. It’s just so clinical and organized and sterile and ill. Hospitals, I mean. And they always send you home with some extra sickness or the other. So health has beome a renewed concern. Thanks to my drinking days I was bunking gym, but now I will not.

My motto is simple. Go and Let Go for Health. Go to the gym for health and let go of all the negativity for health as well. You’d think that’s simple enough to follow, no? Alas. But I’ve begun, I’ve dumped all the negative people from my life. I just refuse to talk to them.
And there are these two lines I’ve been dying to use on people and the situations just don’t arise. “Shhhh…” when someone’s picking a fight with me. And another is, “Please, I’m trying to be a positive person here.” to anyone who’s annoying me. And the important thing there is to walk away after saying that sentence with a calm face and unhurried walk. LOL. It’s almost as good as, “Sparsh mat karo, mein vipassana kar rahin hoon.”

See little imaginary things like this entertain me. These are the intrsopections summer brings to my life. It’s a mad period, I confess. And a time of vivid, colour colour dreams with plots and subplots and passion and emotion riding so high. And even there, if you are reading honey, you don’t talk to me, do you know that? Not even in my dream. And that hurts.

But this is not to be a sad post. It’s to be a long one that rambles all the way and makes you wonder what the hell this was all about.

Why are they killing the city? No drinking, no smoking, no dancing, no parties in farmhouses, no western clothes. The other day I wore a salwar without sleeves and I was so afraid someone would beat me. The fear came from the fact that I’d have to give them hell when they do because that’s what I am which is why I still, despite dreaming about it, haven’t killed myself. That would take away most of the anger and resentment but would also be so needless and unnecessary. So in summer, despite the gorgeous weather that begs you to wear minimal clothing and something that clings and swirls around you, we have to dress as if we were off to a funeral of a very orthodox aunt. Why?

So I decide to run away. Spain preferably. I’m in love with Spain after Vatty’s Spanish classes and quarter lessons and Vicky Christina Barcelona. And I think I will like it there. And I think I will probably experiment making love to a Spanish woman because you must really try everything once. But oh no I can have a nice, dashing Spaniard who will sweep me off my feet and babble in Spanish while I just laugh with the wind in my hair, why would I need a woman? See? Dead end streets everywhere. So I put off Spain till at least my passport gets done. Seems prudent too. So we just go to Maddoor CCD and watch bougainvillea bloom and sing songs that make you remember in the middle of the night, driving drunk on pink, holding hands and offering such love and comfort! But I miss the sex. Why isn’t what you have ever enough?

At least, is this long enough? Perhaps. It’s long since I spoke in Brit tones and did anything with any semblance of culture. So my new resolution is to greet loved ones in the European style – three kisses on cheeks. It’ll be fun. Is that enough culture for old families with Golf Club Memberships? Haha. It was tinged with hysteria that sound of happiness. And now I’m hungry. Toodle doo, it’s time to end.

And so summer’s upon us. The madness is upon me. Who knows I might just be able to write another book about Picking up the Shattered Pieces and Everything. LOL.

But till then, lovers, walk with me into Bangalore’s sunset; it’s gorgeous with the flowers. And the wind – why it will take you so high!


About Bhumika's Boudoir

I love to laugh, and end up being a part of high drama and stormy emotion even when I don't pursue it. Being creative, and communicating with people get me going. I enjoy all the good things in life especially those that are slightly risque, and apologise little, if ever, for all that I do. Literature is a passion and so is music.
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10 Responses to Blowing in the wind…

  1. Aman says:

    In the room the women come and go Talking of Michelangelo. Nice post!


  2. That is exactly the mood I was in! Wow, Aman. 🙂


  3. Anonymous says:

    Nice blog!can predict your state of mind now!have some tequila too!lol


  4. Oh Anon, I wish I could do that. But what you say makes sense, I’ll do a tequila instead. Cheers, mate. 🙂


  5. Anonymous says:

    Hey bhumika,I would say get married soon!Dont worry about your queendom n all!Dont feel bad that I am advising n all.Just think abt it.In the mean time have some more tequila shots and!


  6. That’s right. Because that would miraculously solve everything! And I don’t drink anymore.


  7. Anonymous says:

    first of all happy to know ya that u have accepted for marriage(ish).secondly not happy to hear that u quit drinking!!lol


  8. Rati says:

    hehehe nice post Bhu! European style of kissing, strange how both of us have blogged about it in totally different ways. check out muah!


  9. Darling, I absolutely love your new blog. And Chuckles? Dickenshowrummy,if that isn’t the rummiest! Oh happy happy happy I am for you!


  10. Anonymous says:

    what on tis world ru telling?u jus said u quit drinkin tequila but ur attention seems to be turned on by rummy…rummiest…rum??lolwhatever be aslong u drink im happy!!:-)


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