Monday, February 25, 2008

In my heart I am a musician. I was meant to be Shirley Manson and wear knee high boots and very very dark eye make up and sing "Steal me, deal me, anyway you heal me,
Maim me, tame me, you can never change me"
Or may be Alanis Morissette and go crazy on stage while singing "You Oughta Know." Or may be wear flowy clothes and be ultra feminine and sing the dreamy "Shoot the moon" like Norah Jones. Though mostly, I can’t carry a tune. And though all those years when I was taking Hindustani classical music (vocal) (that’s what it says on the ID card. As if being vocal makes it less classical. Weird) lessons I used to be able to carry a tune (alas, I don’t think I can even do that now) dhrupad and random taals you had to double triple quadruple the pace of, used to confuse the bejesus out of me. And even I make me wince when I sing out loud with Sheryl Crow. Sigh. I really wanna be a rock star-ish person in my next life.

You know what the world really needs? A shampoo and conditioner timer. The medicated shampoo I use has to be kept on for five minutes and the conditioner for three. And my watch may or may not be waterproof but I don’t want to risk checking to see if it is. So, we need water proof timer. And counting to 300 doesn’t work. I keep forgetting where I am post 100 seconds. By 80-something seconds I drift off to some other world and I have no idea how many seconds I have lost in reverie. Have I reached 300 seconds mark? Have I gone passed it? Is this why I have either mad frizzy hair or limp weird hair ?

Ok this will contradict the inner rock star dream. I was born in the wrong time. I watched Pakeezah yesterday and I have realised I was meant to be Pakeezah. Ok not Pakeezah. Something close. I want to wear pretty kurtas and churidars, walk slowly and gracefully and wear lovely mojris. I was meant to wear white churidars and kurtis and lie on a divan with my hair soaking in the fountain. I want paighams about my pretty feet. But I don’t want to be surrounded by so many shrill giggling women.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

I’m wearing something totally impractical today. Ethnic 16 kali skirts aren’t made for two-way trips around half of Calcutta that involve two auto rides and a metro ride each way. Or for possible rainy days. But oh, but today’s weather is meant for long flowy skirts. And for leaving your hair open. And for pretty anklets and toe-rings. (Am leaving out the bangles and the earrings, ’cause well for me they are every-weather). And while stepping out of the house today as I struggled to keep bag, stole, hair and skirt in place and felt the wind in my hair, I felt totally girlie. Absolutely filmy, I know. And absolutely lovely. Being a girl is such fun.

P.S. I don’t care how many designers scream themselves hoarse saying long n flowy skirts are out. I like them!