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.

5 comments:

devjit said...

nice nice, btw are u on drugs?

ad libber said...

I agree about the shampoo and conditioner timer. I have probably have been timing it all wrong for the last 5 years to the eventual degeneration of my hair.

And no, I dont want paighams about my pretty feet, I just want the pretty feet.

Unknown said...

And now you're left to face the gloom
The empty room that once smelled sweetly
Of all the flowers you plucked if only
You knew the reason
Why you had to each be lonely
Was it just the season?

Now the fall is here again
You can't begin to give in
It's all over


Norah Jones. Love her. And that is all I have to say about that.

ru said...

debu: eh?

ad libber: feet not pretty anymore. am horrified. i want pretty feet back.

saptarshi: i know!! i love the song so

Llama said...

I like the idea of a shampoo and conditioner timer. If you do end up inventing/finding one, please lemme know. :D