Muddled Musings: Spring Cleaning 2oo!

I love the way she writes :)

Muddled Musings: Spring Cleaning 2oo!: "I’m doing this cos I have nothing else to do plus this is a sort of clearing up weekend like any other. I clean my room. I clear my mind. I ..."

Resurrection

I'm not going to say I didn't have the time. Because I did.

The blog dog has died yet again and on the happy occasion of its second resurrection, I have decided to vow never to let it starve so anymore. I mean some would call it art, but myeh, nope its just cruel.

Hmm. I haven't thought much about the past seven(six?) months until, well, now actually. They've been a good seven months (eight?). Seems my life is like (hold your breath, deep analogy approaching) a rising demand-supply graph (yes, i went there). Its like a perfect balance and the only outcome is steady, growing happiness/accomplishment. (aich!)

Now that that's done with, I can talk about the recent past, because, frankly, that's about as far as my memory goes.
Work: Copy-editing. Sigh. I can't decide if I love it to bits or if its just a bit of flotsam I'm clinging to in the vast ocean of publishing. I couldn't believe there could be so many people like me in one room. It's weird, dude.

Home: I never thought being in the same city as my parents could be so strange/surreal. I mean, I can just get on my bike and go see them. Just. Like. That. Its weird, dude. Next you'll be telling me that the stuff on television doesn't stop existing the minute I switch the TV off.

Stuff: You know that feeling when you hear a song that you really like. Like you're gonna just bust at the seams? Well, I have it all the time. Its like some kind of renewed self-belief that's trying to claw its way out into the open through the mass of internal goop, like those creatures from Alien, except good 'uns. (Uh huh, another analogy)

Oh, and I wrote a song, that Dubba and I perfected. It's a first. It's brilliant.

That's all.

My excuse for a hundreth post.

"Put anything in quotations and suddenly you feel like someone important said it."

-Sharanya Nair

A 100 posts!

Can i get a woot woot!?

The Creative Conundrum and Daft Buyers

I thought it was about time i went back to having pretentious titles thankyouverymuch. (The alliteration adds that extra touch of lilpinkyup attitude.)

It sure is a conundrum-this being creative business. I mean its not just sitting in a corner pouring your tortured heart out onto a piece of bark anymore, it is now business-not to mention risky (note lame reference to movieofsamename). Its trade plus industry plus however tiny and idiotic an idea that has the potential to become a global business.

Obviously this rant is keeping in mind the boom of the internet. I love the internet and all but sometimes it just pisses me the hell off. I mean, you can't think of anything without going online, googling it and finding out that some kid in war-torn Iraq or upscale New York has already done it, made millions and had a few babies since then. Can you compete with that(would you dare?) Its already a heaving BS-spewing conglomerate-the original guy probably isn't even in charge and the bunch of suits it keeps close to its heart of stone will sue you to within an inch of your life if you attempt to say 'feck it!' and go ahead with 'your' idea (with a different name of course). Its conglomerate-eat-small-fry out there. Trust me. But also be ballsy enough to have a go at it anyway. So what if there's a Calvin and Hobbes out there. Go ahead with that comic strip about the little boy and his tiger. So what if there's a Miley Cyrus out there!? Go ahead and sing and make vlogs and.....waitasec. We don't want any of that. Stuff it.

Also, recently I have come to the conclusion that people will literally sell anything out there. What's crazier is that people buy that shit! Its like this insane need to not conform by making daft retail choices. Or maybe its just a hook for conversation! Coz lets face it with the internet we have the option of thinking awhile and then speaking which is impossible not to mention absent) in real life. People don't have time to just sit around waiting for your perilous/pearls of wisdom. If you're not witty you're screwed my friend.

Like recently I saw a T-shirt with the words "Wonder drug - fuckitol" on it. I mean its not like I find the thought of taking drugs to numb the 'pain' fascinating or even want to literally follow the charming advice (because its impossible as well as 'risky business' :D with all those nasty stds). I jus thought it would be hilarious. I even went so far to imagine Widegrin or Dubba looking at it and cracking up. Ah! Saved from at least five and a half minutes of staring and 'dragging'.

Being the black sheep is cool and all but you don't wanna be the pink sheep with the bohemian hairdo and wooden clogs that says "bLaaahhh" alot. The line is fine, but its there people!
And i realize that my rant on the death of the creative turned into a rant on people who buy crap.
-runs to add to title-

Sabbatical ends

A day after April Fool's day (that passed by unrecognized by me) and more than a month since i last blogged. Anyway, here i is.

Oh wow. A string of events that have/will change my life and perception of people forever. In a good way.

And even better news! Dougies BACK! And he's brought a friend. He appears to have been on recon in my room and has found it satisfactory and hence has begun to "bring in the men" so to speak. I tried to snap a few quick shots but the wily coyote skidaddled to neverland before i could switch my camera on.

I say "thank yew!!" to my guiser (geyser? geezer?) everyday as i leave the loo. Why? (you ask stupid question) because the geyser (guiser? geezer?) plug displays the words 'Attisundar'(very pretty) on it. And i am a stronger person for having the blessings of my geezer (geyser? guiser?)

I download a trillion movies a day. Literally a trillion. I watch them compulsively also. Recently my bloodthirst has been slaked by Resident Evil 1 2 and 3. 1 is seriously a movie I can watch over and over and over again. And not only because Mila Jovovich is hotness and i enjoy watching mechelle rodriguez die, but because its an amazing movie! And obviousy i have to watch shawn of the dead again now because it just kicks ass.

I learn and (thereafter immediately forget) to play songs on the guitar I need not say more yes?

Morning Runner- Burning Benches.....on repeat
Let us make amends, we’re not overly good friends, but its not Heaven without you. You can have it all, we’ll see Mountains fall, but it’s not Heaven without you.
It’s the symphony distorting, when were not talking, but its not Heaven, without you.
There’s just something different, With the air about you, The signs, the shapes, the numbers, none of them give me a clue You can have it all
and im not Burning Benches cos the ash would make me choke It was me who always spluttered every time we spoke, you can have it all

Apupa's gone. And ever since that black Valentine's, I've been wondering how to proceed on this blog. I couldn't write about him at all for a while and I couldn't write anything else on this blog without paying him a tribute. So here it is. A tribute of sorts. I've mashed together stories i heard about him, stuff i remember. Feelings distributed themselves evenly among everyone he knew. Good feelings. Warm fuzzy ones. Respectful ones.

Too little, too late.
I wish I'd hugged him more.
I wish I'd sat with him a while or been around more.
But even enough of it all, now i know and believe,
wouldn't've been enough to console me
and make me not 'wish' anymore.

My earliest story about him that i used to tell people with exasperated affection was when we would be far off in a different state and living our important lives and we'd spare a few minutes on the phone for him. His conversation on the phone would be punctuated with millions of questions about things that i thought were silly. My favourite was "Have you remembered to turn off the gas?"
My most recent is him pestering my grandmum to within an inch of her life with the same repeated question said with varying levels of emotion-accusatory, casual inquiry, in-passing, in all seriousness etc. "Are you taking care of Sharu?" usually followed by "Have you fed her?"
When we lived in Bangalore he'd suddenly turn up at home in the morning after we'd left for school or office and my mum was alone at home. Just to check on her under the pretext of having breakfast and then he'd rush back home because all he'd said there was "I'll be back in a bit". Everyone knew of course.

I'm told he was a very soft-spoken man so much so that when ever he raised his voice, even to call out to someone, people thought he was angry. He once gave a speech at a HUGE family gathering, a powerful mic under his nose, and not one person beyond the second row heard a word of it.
He was the only man i knew who literally carried a walking stick. Not once did it touch the floor while he walked. It's like he had it along for the ride.
Once for my mum's birthday he brought home a mini-amusement park.
You knew he was in an affectionate mood when he pinched his bottomlip between his teeth, smiled and patted you on the shoulder.
If he was ever in Charlie's chocolate factory he'd run them outta business. He had the biggest sweet tooth you could never imagine. He'd have dessert before lunch.
He'd blush furiously and giggle or swat at us if we kissed him on the cheek.
He never failed to say 'mind your head' when i walked past the stairs.
Everyday for twenty years he locked the three foot high harmless front gate. Every day.

How can you stay dry while writing an obituary for such a man. I didn't. But i sucked it up. Like I do everytime i leave the house. I feel guilty for wanting this feeling to pass but nevertheless it will. Life goes on after death. It always does.

Did she, I wonder?

Story mentioned in She's Gonna Break

Paying it Forward

*desperately looks for something else to hyperlink. Fails to find anything. Leaves*

Frankie! Wahayyy!

"Startlingly offensive" at times.

Ad libbing. At. Its. Best.

Frankie Boyle on Mock The Week.