vaguery in the field

It has rained in Ahmedabad for nearly a whole day, withonly a one hour gap in the middle. It has been most lovely. Splooshed about all morning and slept all afternoon. Drove across the waterlogged city in the evening and returned to Doctor Who at night. Now that I am no longer alone at home I can watch these at night (otherwise too spooky).

Meanwhile I am debating the wisdom of having my hair rebonded. I invite comments from any of you who have had this done- or considered it.

Additionally I wish to complain about the rigours of having to manage a large household (3 people) on my own. This means buying food and water, instructing the cook about what to cook when, and dealing with grocers, laundry women, gardeners and a whole host of other people who float in and float out. The thing about living inside an institutes campus is that nearly everything comes pre-organised. There are minions to help with everything, and helpful aunties to call when in doubt. And despite how easy everything should be its driving me mad.

One more week of planning menus and I shall be climbing the walls. I need to leave before I totally forget what it is like to go to work everyday. To have to make deadlines instead of thinking about how the vegetables are rubbery during the rains and that its not a good time to eat palak.

irritation

i do not like being asked about when i plan to get narried. it annoys me further i am asked about my age. and it is intolerable when i am told that at 24 i have become 'pakki' in my ways- too old and hardened to be fashioned into the sort of person that a husband might want. i do not think that i was compliant at any age- but i absolutely refuse to be told off for the years stacking up. i defy you to find me one person who has grown younger as time passes,

and so being in ahmedabad drives me mad slowly.

so i am 24 and not possessed of child or husband. and this does not mean that my life is empty. now shoo. go away.

and what have i been reading?

Loretta Chase: Miss Wonderful.

I enjoyed this book a great deal. And I look forward to reading more by Loretta Chase. Maybe it just happened at a needy moment- when more susceptible than ever to books that end pleasantly predictably. Or maybe it just was a book with interesting people and a hint of a story.

Not that the book was anything like what the link to follow talks of. Nothing that had you sniggering at it.

http://www.smartbitchestrashybooks.com/index.php/weblog/comments/random-thoughts-from-anonymous-reader-on-men-of-danger/

updates of a general nature

fresh from a trip to turkey (so beautiful- but iffy about some of the food- why were so many things served cold?) and dubai (iffy about the place but oh- the food!).

and what have i been reading?

Moonraker's Bride by Madeleine Brent (Peter O'Donnell)
Was sure that i had read this before- but forgotten the story. All very predictable and very fun.

Master's Of Illusion: The World Banka and the Poverty of Nations by Catherine Caufield.
I haven't finished this yet, but I will, once my mother returns it. I allow myself to read no more than 50 pages a day because any more will cause an attack of some sort. caused by total horror.

ancic- recap

ancic will be playing at queen's.

i will be scouring the sports channels in the hope of seeing him play, if only in the opening rounds. i miss him, i really do. watchingtennis used to be more fun, somehow, than it is now, without the ancics and ivanesevics around.

Reviews. More

Ishq and Mushq- Priya Basil
I like books like this one. About people who live in places other than those accorded to them at borth. About women who have difficult relationships with other women. About food. With speciific references to Indian food.
There was a lot of cooking in the book. Though it felt like Basil had read Like Waster from Chocolate and thought, thats nice, I'll have my heroine cry into the food andmake it salty too. Other than for this it was much more palatable that most of the other stuff being churned out about diasporas.

Solo- Rana Dasgupta
The blurb had nothing to do what was in the book. There was a stray mention of a parrot, and no one gypsy- not tribe whowse lost language we pursued in the story. Despite the disappointing lack of parrots it was fun. Yet another person who read Amitov Ghosh and thought- ha.

new house-new cat

so. it seems like the last few phases of my life have, thus far, been punctuated by different and distinctive feline presences.

in the first year at the ma there was the cat that snuck into my room every night and curled up on my pillow next to my head. then she had babies; one of whom had a preference for chocolate biscuits.

in the second year of the me, the orange, non chocolate consuming kit of the pillow-friendly cat moved with me to the next block. and was christened garfield (no i did not call him that to begin with, but he took to the name, and refused to respond to anything else). garfield liked to lurk at one end of the corridor, and race towards people as they stepped out of their rooms, then zig zag between their legs as they moved forwards, having to zig zag to avoid being stepped on. he also liked legs to stand still so he could rub against them. and was very selective about his food. he did not like to be fed fresh stuff, not even milk. it had to lie there, preferably in one of the hostel's many dustbins, before he would deign to look at it. to be able to allow my feet to pet him i set aside a pair of garfield socks, that i wore before letting him touch my feet. his bed was in the corridor distbin, and nothing could persuade him otherwise.

then there was a large black dat. who lived in a house with four other people, so was quitw spoilt. if you sat down for too long she would come and drape herself on you, and claw you for thinking abut shifting. i have often thought about her tail (most beautiful) wistfully, and want one just like it. would be so useful to use as a scarf, or fold up into a pillow.

andn ow i live ina house with a squashed faced patchwork black and orange cat. i donot know if it is a he or a she. and i don't think i'll get close enough to find out. he/she also sneaks in, but sleeps on the rug. and leaves as soon as i wake up. then returns when it thinks i should be asleep.

i wonder if this one will agree to being my friend