So (not) MILF

Another four days and I’ll be 32. Frankly I don’t want to be 32 and if you asked me – even if you didn’t – I’m not ready for it. I’d barely turned 30 and now I’m being told it’s been two years since. When the hell did that happen? How? 

I’ve been in a bit of a funk for some time now, the blog silence being one of the resultant ramifications. There have been other ones too. Like not wanting to get a pedicure, a refusal to wear low-waist jeans and an absolute hatred for anything labeled ‘anti-ageing’.  

It's not me it's the baby

IF I see one more Bollywood movie with divinely pregnant women practicing lullabies the moment their bloody ovum is fertilised...
Or any more filmi sequences where hero-heroine burst into "the moon of our eye and the apple of your womb" type romantic number when they discover they/she are/is pregnant.
Or any references to how life is going to change (completely, drastically, horrendously) because tum maa banne waali ho*. (All Hindi translations given at the end of this post, and if some are missing, I can't be f*cked.)
I swear I WILL kill.

Doctor Who?

The closer I get to 30, the more dire are the diagnosis from Google.

At 25, the warnings were about laugh lines and crows feet. Now every bloody website is warning that all my hormones will start disco dancing with disastrous results.

Poor Partner. While he has been seriously considering buying this new device that will help him track my PMS dates -- he has new-found appreciation for 'mood swings' -- he is close to losing all hope. It's funny how "getting hormonal" means totally different things as you age.

Two years back, in my angsty-aunty avatar, had written how much I hate reading medical websites. I still hate them and I still read them. Since I have been gaining weight, losing hair and have a constant neck-shoulder-wrist pain; I have been trawling some more med websites. According to the symptoms listed -- and observed in self -- my thyroid is acting up (or down), my Vitamin E intake is dismal and I might be developing carpal tunnel syndrome.

After much moaning at home, Partner insisted -- it was a threat -- that I visit a doctor. It's been an hour since I've come back and other than giving 35 ml of my blood in three separate test tubes, I am very disappointed.

"Your name is Bose? I've never heard it before" says little Japanese doctor, Dr Low.
"Er, yes. Bose, like the speakers..."
"But you are not a speaker," he responds along with a, ha-ha.
I smile. The speaker-association usually works with people who cannot pronounce a simple four-letter word. The other do-you-understand-ny-name trick being, 'JB, like JB-Hi-Fi'. I don't know why, but every single Australian has laughed really loudly at that. The joke's on them.

The doctor though, is a different (nut) case.
"You are not German either," he continues his observation.
"Correct, I am Indian."
"You are very far from home no?" he says and I bite my tongue not to point out that so is he. And in enemy nation, going by the Aussie-Japanese history.
"So Indian girl with funny name, what is wrong with you?" he asks, looking at me as if I am a newly discovered species or something. I am glad for the change of topic since I've paid him $ 45 consultation fees and not to discuss how 'funny' my name is. As I've written earlier; I've got that my entire f*****g life.

So I tell him I suffered from hyperthyroidism a year and a half back.
"Oh you did? You look nice and fatty now?" he asks/says, grinning.
I ignore the grin (and the 'fatty') and enumerate how I suspect thyroid mischief because I am losing hair. He gets up and starts poking the top of my head, fiddling with my hair. I wait for a diagnosis.
"You have a lot of hair," he announces, still fiddling.
"I would like to keep it doctor..."
"It's nice soft hair too. Strawberry shampoo?" he asks. I am baffled.
"Is the strawberry shampoo causing hair loss doctor?" It better not, bloody expensive shampoo.
"Naw, my wife will like my hair to smell of strawberry I am thinking," he responds.

I quickly enumerate my other problems -- wrist-shoulder-neck pain -- and he quickly starts poking my shoulder and neck, but refuses to touch my wrist.
"Very skinny shoulders for nice, fatty Indian girl," he says, "Any repeat activity you do with hands?" Many in fact, however I choose the most innocuous...
"I am a writer, use the computer a lot."
"Ah the Internet gives me many patients," he announces gleefully.
"Do you think I might have carpal tunnel syndrome?"
"Hrmph. The Internet also makes my patient think they are doctors. Google is evil," he frowns now. I am pleased, enough of 'fatty' and 'ha ha' from him.

"Any family history of diseases?"
I list several life threatening ones -- all true -- and he looks very amused.
"Then you need blood test; for diabetes, cholesterol and thyroid," looking even more pleased now. He approaches with a syringe and three test tubes, plunges the syringe into my right forearm and says, "Red, red blood, let's see how fatty your blood is."

The 'fatty' is really getting to me now. The test tubes filled, he tells me that there is nothing that he can see wrong with me.
"Oh. Are you sure the hair loss is not serious?"
"I don't know," he says and looks at me blankly. It worries me. Since he is not saying anything else and is now simply smiling, I get up, thank him and start walking towards the door. When I am almost out of the door he calls out,
"Little Bose..." I turn around, door open, one foot out.
"You have big, fatty breasts. Check them regularly. Good for breast cancer." I leave.
And I thought medical websites were bad?! WTF.

Men on breasts...

According to a stand-up comedian,

"Men and breasts; it's like Pepsi or Coke. Men have their preferences, but when forced to choose, anything will do!"

Hrmph. I'm typing this from class, on a swanky Mac -- bloody cool it -- and am currently hiding behind the monitor -- as big as me -- and typing.

The professor is about to give out assignments - ARGH - I got to write a fiction short-story on magic realism. I SO wanted fantasy. Tricked.

Ok. Gotta go, professor's coming....

POST-CLASS: 7.36 pm

Sigh. Back from class and somewhat tired. However, good feedback on book plot from class and professor. Hmmm.

A Mail Today -- newspaper brought out by the India Today group for those who don't know -- spoke to some women bloggers (me included) and the story/feature was published today.

I don't have too many comments on the article, but it is kind of pissing off that they should miss out on the bloody blog's name. When they have mentioned every other blog's name.

To Mail Today: I am really not interested in pimping my face in your paper, but I would like my blog mentioned. Not very professional.

How to make your man behave

Lesson 1. Do something unpredictable. Especially if he thinks you won't can't do it.

As I shared earlier, we were down in Australia's surf capital, Torquay this weekend. As we strolled down to find a good spot on the beach, Partner suddenly stopped dead in his tracks and exclaimed, "That chick is topless!"

His observation was correct and right where I would have liked to lay down our beach towels, there was this chick lying topless. Needless to say, I was not too happy about it. Equally needless -- but I'm saying it nonetheless -- I glared at Partner.

He quickly tried to recover his composure -- and failed -- and we walked a safe distance away. However, there is nothing called a safe distance away when there is a topless chick around. Especially if said chick suddenly decides she needs to sit up and start lathering sunscreen all over her body.

By now we were in the ocean and I noticed that Partner was behaving like Noddy. His head kept swivelling towards the beach.

"I can see you, you know," I said.

"No, no, I wasn't looking at her. I was just looking at the beach and she happened to be there. She must have changed her spot," Partner replied hastily.

She of course had not changed her spot at all. So I politely turned my head towards the horizon and informed Partner that if he checked her out again, I would take my bikini top off as well. He didn't believe me. In fact he laughed at me.

About five minutes later, Partner's head again swivelled towards Topless Chick. Please let me point out that Partner is not a perv. However, he is a man and I have now realised that there's something in men's genes that makes their heads turn involuntarily towards naked breasts.

"You are looking again," I said. Partner grinned apologetically. I smiled and took my top off. A 70-year-old man looking at us nearly had a heart attack.

And Partner's face... Oh, his expression was pure gold. Shock, disbelief, exasperation and finally uncontrolled laughter.

He didn't look at that chick again. Happy ending. (smug)

PS: For future reference, have told Partner that next time I shall ensure that there are younger blokes around and not just a heptagenarian. Also, Partner's mom approves. (grin)

Toon courtesy: cartoonstock.com

I love to lick...and other things!

This tag -- the first tag I am responding to! -- was insisted upon by Koshy, MaxJayJay, Catmeister and Mamma Mia.

Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.

(I am doing this on my blog BUT: (To do this, go to “notes” under tabs on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, type your 25 random things, tag 25 people (in the right hand corner of the application).

Despite having an entire blog to myself... 25 random things about me:

1. I cannot remember jokes or rather, can only remember one joke at a time, which I will repeat at every party. Current joke involves a Chihuahua and a female elephant. Those interested, shout out!

2. I don’t like men with hairless arms. Hairless chests, is okay, hairless arms….pfft (thus I cannot stand Rafael Nadal)

3. I hate four-boobs…when you wear a wrong-sized bra and the top of your breasts pop out…thus, four boobs. I consider it the biggest faux pas.

4. I am extremely uncomfortable with compliments, to the point of being rude. I think people are lying when they compliment, especially when it’s about physical appearance. In the same vein, I am even worse when I am criticised. (wicked grin)

5. I LOVE my boobs. Bwahaha.

6. I have an authority-issue…sooner or later I will hate/dislike my boss.

7. If I was assured I will not be caught, there are at least two people I can murder without any conscience. I think I will make a good assassin.

8. If I could Ctrl+Z… I would've remain a virgin till my wedding day/night. Oh well. Go figure.

9. Despite others being the ‘cause’ of the heartbreak…it has always been me who has walked out of a relationship(s)

10. I have kissed a friend’s boyfriend. :( I consider it one of the shittiest things I have done and will never forgive myself for it.

11. I use a tongue cleaner…Partner thinks its weird, but without it I feel unclean.

12. I like licking -- using my fingers that is! -- the bottom of the pan when certain dishes have been cooked. ‘Kadhi’ and Maggi top the list.

13. I used to chew my nails to little, bitty pieces. Now I do it only when I am EXTREMELY excited (does not include sex). I still consider my nails as rather, er, chewable. Hah. (thank god they don’t have nicotine in them! alarmed)

14. I get extremely uncomfortable and possessive -- I actually throw a tantrum and can lose my temper -- with anyone else working/ using my kitchen. Especially if it’s another woman, even if it’s my mother. (!)

15. I used to be VERY particular about everyone using MY name…no nicknames, no shortcuts, just Jhoomur. Now I am not as Nazi about it… (hmmm…maybe I need to be. If people can pronounce Dostoevsky they can bloody well pronounce my name)

16. I would love to give a dance performance before an audience and receive rave reviews for it. The last was when I was 13 -- Bharatnatyam -- before the then-Vice President of India. Dr SD Sharma, at Siri fort auditorium, New Delhi.

17. I would love, love, LOVE to have a horse as a pet.

18. I would love to tango/ salsa with Partner… REAL steamily. However, this will probably go unfulfilled -- learning dance is anathema to Partner -- unless we can salsa to the tunes of market movements and barley figures.

19. I would really like to get married… at a time when I and the other mean our vows. To just KNOW that I am loved, as I am. And I would consider myself blessed to have a baby, my baby. My child. My existence. I already love him/her…it’s weird.

20. I fervently wish to take my parents out of the country…make them see the world. Papa loves reading and watching National Geographic…I want to see the look on his face when he steps on to the lands he reads about… for Ma, I want to buy her everything she wants. Anything, everything and remove every, single, teensy, vestige of the childhood -- where they took everything from her -- or her youth -- where she gave everything to us.

21. I find the idea of threesomes (yes, that threesome) scary. :P No, I haven’t.

22. My biggest, biggest crush was a man at least 22 years my senior. He was one of the cruellest men I knew. He never hurt me though. Funny.

23. I can ‘read’ other peoples’ relationships. Whether pretending to be happy or whatever, I have NEVER been wrong in reading relationships. Except mine!

24. If I could choose between becoming a vampire or a werewolf, I’d choose to be a vampire (love the clothes) … who can mate with werewolves. :D Go Lycans!

25. I find it very hard completing tags…simply because it feels like an editor telling me what to do…goes against the grain!

(26... I really, really miss my Golu.)

People who I tag:

1.Mamma Mia

2. Catmiester

3. MaxJayJay

4. Mystique

5. Mad Haiku

6. Goofy Mumma

7. Mad Momma

8. Eveline

9. Dew Drop Dreams

10. Pirate of the Arabian

11. Sree

12. Eve's Lungs

13. Chandni

14. Silvara

15. Freespirit

The other names are on the Facebook note...

A cupful of orgasms

(check out the pink dumbells!)

My thighs have been deliciously aching for the last two days. A delicious thigh ache is usually caused either by really raunchy sex the previous night or by a new exercise regime. In my case it’s the exercise that’s the culprit; been doing some serious cardio-crunches-and-what-not for the last two days.

From weighing 37kgs in May 2008, I am now a healthy 48kgs. Only that most of the ‘health’ is accumulating around my thighs and belly. Boobs too. I have had enough of not fitting into jeans I bought some months back or my bikini bra strap snapping off because I am too heavy to be, er, ‘encupped‘. Ok, I am lying. I don’t mind the bikini bra not fitting as long as it’s the cups I’ve outgrown and not because my back is too broad for the strap (it isn’t, am still a svelte 24 inches baby!).

Knowing that I am more of a self-help kind of person - not into joining fitness clubs etc - I have bought myself a DVD and have been sweating it out with the trainers on it. Partner has been killing himself laughing and at his most-irritating, keeps imitating the way the trainers sound on the DVD. But never-you-mind, I will have the last laugh once I am in the shape I want to be in - Partner says he quite likes the way I am, what would he know? His main concern is that I would ‘shrink’ in some strategic areas (you know…). Hrmph.

The exercising apart, the Christmas season-going-into-new-year has been full of heavy socialising. Since I hardly know people here, most socialising involves meeting up with Partner’s school and college (‘uni’ here) friends. All the hello-hello with people has lead to some interesting observations and conversations. A lot of the talking-noting centres around sex -- not just me, others talk of it too, grin -- and how things are different in India and Australia.

While ‘picking up’ -- having sex with people you don’t know before you sleep with them (often not even after that) -- is common in both India and Oz, there are some significant differences. For one, unlike India where even people who have threesomes every night will pretend they don’t do it; folks are more open about things here. They don’t get into ethical and moral dilemmas about random-sex-with-strangers (or about sex for that matter, an Indian speciality I say).

Having said that please don’t assume that Australians are cool about random sex. Just like India, majority of the population here is conservative and looks down upon pre-marital sex. Virginity is considered a virtue too; though increasingly difficult to come by!

Another significant difference vis-à-vis sex is the complete ignoring of condoms or condom ads.

Going by the ads on the tele, ‘shock therapy’ seems to be the most-preferred advertising tool. From drink-driving to road safety to health issues and workplace safety, advertisements use shock to relay their message. If it can be said with a smashed head, they’d do it.

The society is also health obsessed… from ‘green TV’ ads (stupid, stupid ad by ABC with TV sets sitting on a jungle floor…what was the point?) to numerous ads on the latest tablet in the market. Yet, there is not a single ad that I have seen that promotes condoms. Given the openness about sex, given that the drinking age is 18 and is celebrated, given that the youth is allowed far more licentiousness than in India -- the in-your-face-variety, not the we-do-but-don’t-accept thing -- one would expect condoms and SAFE SEX to be a priority. Going by the ads, it’s not.

I asked the people I have been meeting about this complete lack of condom ads. The response -- by this doctor chick -- was that since the percentage of AIDS/HIV has gone down, condoms are not a priority. Yet the doctor also mentioned that STIs and STDs -- especially gonorrhoea -- are on the rise. Another girl mentioned, hesitantly, that it perhaps has to do with Catholic beliefs. The “children are god’s gift” kind of beliefs.

While I respect religious beliefs that promote having children… what religion promotes STIs? Or children who will be left to fend for themselves because the father doesn’t want them? Or maybe because the mother wasn’t ready? I don’t understand… isn’t safe, responsible sex supposed to be one of the stipulations of a developed nation/society?

One big commonality between Australians and Indians is the way both people get tight-lipped and judgemental about… Pornography. The research subject for my first term paper was user-generated pornography. The kind that has ‘regular’ people -- as against porn stars -- shooting videos of themselves and putting it up on the Internet for free. I remember it was my friend Pirate who had gleefully shared that link with me…

From snide comments to sniggers and oh-she-talks-porn looks from certain high-and-mighty classmates; I was amused by the reaction that my choice of subject elicited. But chalo, the silver lining is that developed country or a developing one, some things bother all of us. Yet… erotic magazines are displayed alongside The Age on news stands, Channel 9 advertises sex phone lines, primetime television shows have ample tits to save spending on lad-mags (read porn) and adult centres and strip bars are on the same street as the biggest shopping mall… Confused or couldn’t-care-less?

My research on user-generated pornography ‘taught’ me quite a few things… Like busting the self-created myth that I cannot be shocked. DUDE! Some of the things had my eyeballs jump out of my sockets and roll about on my keyboard. Other things though were quite, er, illuminating.

Like adding new words to my vocabulary… ‘hebephilic’ and ‘teleiophilic’; they don’t refer to archaeology. Or that there are machines for sex. No, it doesn't mean a man who goes on, and on and on. Neither does it mean vibrators. More like, er, ‘sexborgs‘! Or (still) disbelieving that women can rape men. And realising that the female orgasm is NOT a myth. There are cupfuls to prove it’s true. Or how menopause and old age does not prevent raunchy sex. Really, it doesn’t… but you don’t want to check it out! Or really understanding what exactly a she-male means (and looks like!) and er, the operational aspects.

Or realising that I will never use the phrase, "I am strapping it on" or for that matter never be able to eat 'cream pie' with a straight face. Or more educational observations like the fact that India might consume a lot of porn, but it is waaaaay behind in production qualities. Or that there is a brand of feminism called "raunch feminism". And how the most hard-core stuff does not use condoms. Real life imitating fantasy? What do you think?

Did you know? 89 % of world pornography is produced by the US.

On that note...watch this, my favourite condom ad:

Pain in the butt, literally

The most sickening scene I have ever seen in a movie -- Saw 2 and Hostel included -- was the scene in Ram Teri Ganga Maili Ho Gayi, Mandakini is breast-feeding her baby and Raza Murad is staring at her breasts. It makes me sick. Sort of that one scene made the entire man-breast-staring equation sickeningly clear. I got thinking about that scene when I was doing some much needed blog-maintenance today, both here and on the import-version on Wordpress. And god, it takes time.

The most irritating thing was to realise that the categories I was deleting on Wordpress kept reappearing and that I really had no sense of HOW to categorise. There was a category that read "First". Like first what, you idiot. However, all wasn't lost as I discovered (figured after everyone else already had that is) some cool tricks on Wordpress. Have you realised that it's REALLY thrilling when you suddenly discover new tricks/ utilities on a device/ tool you have been using for a while? You feel like wow-I-must-be-so-cool, five minutes before realising that everyone but you knew how to do that?

'Realisations' was another category and going through tags and categories I realised some of the things that are foremost on my mind... Parents, family, anger, love, relationships and, er, breasts were my frequent tags. I have written many posts about breasts. Mine and those that belong to others. Man-breasts too. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I wasn't breast fed? (Ma had caesarian and was too much in pain)

By the way, have been thinking a bit and a daily update on the Mishra's might get a little tough and somewhat boring, both for you and me. So perhaps will be putting out their stories once/twice a week. Daily episodes will also require me to spy/ walk-in/show-too-much-interest and knowing Mishraji, I don't think I want to irritate him too much.

Also wanted to ask you something, particularly if you've stuck around for long: Do you think this blog is all about sex? Relationships, yes, but only sex?? Please do write in, feedback on this is important.

That apart, the last two days have been more of tying loose ends, on and off the blog. For personal reasons, have quit my job and currently looking at freelance work that I can start in a month's time. So some discussions on that front... Will definitely keep you guys posted; if all goes well, hopefully, will still continue writing for ibnlive.com. I'll miss that place, a very cool boss and some crazy, creative, hard-working people.

Funny, this month I completed 9 years in the media; was going through some of the old pieces/articles I've written for the print media -- newspaper and magazine cuttings -- and it felt so strange. It's like just yesterday I was standing in the centre of this bustling market at Mukherjee Nagar for a story on student accommodation. I was three months old in Delhi and lord, how I fucked up that story. Sigh. Or my first "crime" story or the first dead body I saw (militant shot down outside Nizamuddin Dargah) or waking up under my office table because I had no home (hmm, stories there, but some other time)

I went to the dentist yesterday and after he was done scaling my teeth I have even greater, new found love for Partner. How he kissed me all this while... Did you know we can produce cement in our mouth?! My bum is hurting. My tail bone sticks out and when I don't watch my posture and sit on my arse, it hurts. Also means I have been sitting on my arse all day. And all this aching-creaking means am getting old. At 29.

But I STILL enjoy watching kiddie flicks. Two days back I saw 'Herbie: Fully Loaded' on HBO and enjoyed it way more than Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, which we saw this evening. Seriously, George Lucas and Steven Speilberg need to be hit on their heads for trying to insert aliens into everything. And what a waste of someone as talented as Cate Blanchett, was watching her last evening in Elizabeth: The Golden Years, and the lady is a chameleon. Class apart, love her. Ugh, also saw Die Hard 4 and I have new-found respect for Arnold Shwarzenegger; he's not the only one who does do-you-think-the-audience-is-stupid stunts with jet airplaces (remember True Lies, anyone?) Sheesh. Wouldn't have gone for Indiana had the power not gone off.

Have you realised that there is NOTHING to do during power cuts? What did people do when there was no electricity? Have you also noticed that whenever there is a power cut, mysteriously your cellphone will be on the last legs of its battery-power and will die out? And your other phone will have outgoing barred? And you will get calls from numbers you don't have stored and don't recognise and of course you cannot call back? (And by the way, Vodafone should be SUED. You get 15 phone calls from their customer care executive for bill payment but when you try to call the idiots, that IRRITATING voice will take you through all digits on your keypad but NOTHING will get you to an executive. AND they take your number, assure you they'll call back and never do. So what if they got the pug back on their ads, their service still sucks big time. Am soon going to swear off that brand for ever.)

Anyway... a proper post tomorrow, it's 2.20 am and I better hit bed.