Miasma

I had thought I was not up to writing anything today. I then wrote a response to an e-mail. It was rather interesting, watching sentences form in front of my eyes. I wouldn't have believed I could string a thought together.

Seeing it was possible to form a coherent thought was reassuring. I'm in quite a bit of pain. Pain blots out so much, makes one's world very small. I've used the word "miasma" to describe how I feel. Here's the dictionary definition:

mi·as·ma
1. A noxious atmosphere or influence: "The family affection, the family expectations, seemed to permeate the atmosphere . . . like a coiling miasma" Louis Auchincloss.
2. a. A poisonous atmosphere formerly thought to rise from swamps and putrid matter and cause disease.
b. A thick vaporous atmosphere or emanation: wreathed in a miasma of cigarette smoke.
[Greek, pollution, stain, from miainein, to pollute.]

That defintion both hits the mark and doesn't. It's interesting, though (to me) how when I feel quite bad, I have a feeling of contagion, even if I'm not contagious. I just received a call, "How are you feeling?" "Like crap." "I guess you don't want a visitor then." "No. I'd love some company", was my response.

Afterwards, I thought perhaps I should have said "stay away." Why would anyone want to spend time with someone who emanates a poisonous atmosphere? Well, I hope I don't do that. I'm easily distracted and while probably unable to tell jokes today, will easily laugh.

People do keep away from those who are sick and in pain. It makes sense that we would prefer to be with happy, healthy folks. So, us folks who aren't, perhaps need to prove that we can keep our miasma under wraps and be cheerful when people visit. I will try!

I had intended to post this only to write this simple thought: If you're feeling lousy, unable to do much of anything, figure out something that you can do that proves you're not in as bad shape as you think. That's what writing seems to do for me. I felt completely unable to think or form a sentence. I was wrong, and it was very good to find that out. If I had just gone back to sleep and not responded to my e-mail, I would not have discovered that there's still a functioning part of me.

Painting note: I just stumbled upon this artist, Julie Heffernan. This painting is entitled "Self Portrait as Dead Meat II" (2006). For more about her, click here. Harper's magazine seems to have a number of articles about her, but one needs to have a paid subscription to read them. Drats.I am intrigued. I am generally turned off my any art that has surrealism or fantastical elements in it. There is something in this women's work that draws me in deeply. I'd like to talk to her.

One more reason I don't like celebrity scents (with long afterthought about aging)

I haven't tried Dianne Brill's perfume. I just received a sample. Here's the thing: I don't want to like it. Isn't that awful?

Reason #1. Just read the first sentence of the ad copy:

Diane Brill's lifetime up to this moment provides the inspiration for her signature fragrance.

I am not a stickler about the English language, but honestly, with all the money that goes into developing perfumes and cosmetics, don't you think that this opening salvo could have been better written?

It's such a badly written sentence. I don't know why it sticks in my craw so much. It's causing all sorts of snarky responses in me. What if they left out "up to this moment"? Thus; Diane Brill's lifetime provides the inspiration for her signature fragrance. That's a perfectly good sentence. I suppose it sounds like she's dead. Ah. That's why someone threw that "up to this moment" bit in there. I see it now.

Okay. I'll let that one slide.

But wait, here's sentence #3: Dianne Brill's Perfume is the essence of Ms. Brill's philsophy, which is to deliver a feeling.

This stuff reads like the bad English put out by Japanese companies. Ms. Brill's company is not in this category. What's up with their writers?

As to that philosophy, yeah, I agree. It's really good to want to deliver a feeling. What feeling exactly are we talking about? I suppose it doesn't matter.

Oh sorry. There is a next line, so the question will be answered.

The feeling that you get when you open a present of lingerie, jewelry or exquisite bonbons.

That was it. What feeling is that? It depends, doesn't it? If someone gave me one of those S-shaped diamond necklaces, I'd be speechless and stupefied. Well, that's not exactly a feeling, is it? What if a stranger gave me a diamond engagement ring? I might be scared. If I received a gift of lingerie from a relative, I'd be shocked. Bonbons? Does anyone give bonbons as a gift? Well, I like those Lindt chocolates with hazelnuts inside. I suppose they are bonbons, so if I got some of those, I'd be pleased.

Ms. Brill, am I to believe I will feel all the emotions of a lifetime by wearing your perfume. That is what you mean, right?

Somehow, I think not.

Dianne Brill was the nightlife queen in the early 80's club scene. I remember liking her some, only because she wasn't thin and seemed to be totally okay with that. I was rather saddened to see, that on her website, she gave up being an proud big woman a while back.

I will try the perfume. Oh, how I want to hate it!

Photo note: Diane Brill and Elvira
Bobby Sheehan, 1977-82 (unspecified)

Addendum: I felt a bit disturbed after posting this. It was the photograph that created this uneasy (queasy?) feeling that I have. The black and white photograph above reminds me how innocent "we" were thirty or so years ago. Elvira was someone who was fake. Look at her, how truly fake she is. It's a fun fake, like Dianne Brill or Amy Winehouse's bouffants. And Diane B. back then? Honestly, I love her weight. She looks like a real person, all dressed up and having fun.

Go over to Dianne Brill's website (link above) and look at the photographs of her today. Oh, sure, she "looks good." No, I'll disagree with that statement. It's creepy for someone to look younger at middle-age than they did when they were twenty-something.

Last night, I watched the original CSI for the first time in at least a year. The woman who plays Katherine, whatever her name is, looks younger than when the show started. I watched her forehead during the entire episode. Did it move? Not really. Botox strikes again. So much for having models of good looking older women.

When I was a teenager and my mother started her flipping-out-over-I'm getting-old-and-undesirable phase, watching the changes in her were upsetting. I thought I was just a selfish little brat, wanting my mom to stay the same. In retrospect, I think there is some of that in there, but there was a larger issue. I wanted to see her grow old gracefully, for then I'd know I could do it too. I would have also been less worried about her mental state, but that's another story. I basically missed the last year of my mother's life because of her face lift. She didn't want me to see her until she was all healed.

I kid around about how I'd like to get a chin job, a neck resurfacing, a bit of surgery on my lower belly (and if I think about it, a whole host of other places). Heck, I don't have kids. Why should I be a decent role model? But why should I care at all? This is my body. It's falling apart, both on the outside and the inside. Gravity takes it course, as it should. My grandmother's boobs hung so low that they rested on the top of her apron waistband. That was what grandmothers looked like in my mind. There was something almost reassuring about it.

Why do we have to look perpetually young? Greater minds than I have asked that. I've read about this subject in so many places, yet not one person has written about why the youth standard has become so imperative right now. Maybe it's those aging baby boomers. They were in love with their youth and don't want to give it up. I think that may be part of it, but it certainly isn't the whole thing.

I want to admire old crones, women with creped skin and white hair. Why should any of us spend our whole lives worrying about what we look like?

It's odd. I didn't think I'd be someone susceptible to this. I never thought I was attractive and certainly didn't use my looks, such as they were, to any advantage. Youth was never an advantage to me, anyway. I "suffered" from the opposite problem of many. I actually looked too young for a good amount of my adult life. It was hard to get people to take me seriously. I looked like I was a high school student until I was in my late thirties.

What is the standard? It's Miss America, still, after all these years. That age is neither too young nor too old. Let's call it the perpetual 29. That sounds about right.

A word from me (well, who else?)

Yes, I removed some blog entries. It wasn't that they contained anything oh-so-bad. It's just that I am keenly aware of how my physical state is affecting my mood and I know I'm not thinking clearly.

Thank you, everyone, for your kind words and support. I need to chill. Watching stand-up comedy seems like a good idea right now. So, that's what I'm going to do. See ya!

I leave you with the tenth card in the Rorschach series. I'd be most pleased if I come back and see what you make of this one! Again, I'll post my response if you do.

And to all those who never leave comments: c'mon, leave one. It'll do you good.

If you haven't read Helen and Margaret's blog yet, click here.

Embracing mediocrity, again

I have written extensively on this subject. Just read any post about NaNoWriMo (see tags - I'm too lazy to supply you with a link right here).

I found a website that I can realy get behind and now have a link to it on the sidebar. It's allmediocre.com. See, I'm so lazy right now that I'm going to force you to amble over to the sidebar if you want to see the site. Big hint: the button is green (and I wish it was a different color). Now, the folks at allmediocre didn't even make that a clickable icon, but I did. Is that because they're mediocre? You'd have to ask them. I'm surprised I remembered how to turn a graphic into a link, 'cause I thought everything I knew about html was lost, along with any knowledge I've had of any other languages I've studied.

The sidebar has gained a mediocre link and lost the Amazon begging-for-donations link. Amazon has ended that program, which is just as well. I received exactly $2.61 in donations. I don't blame anyone. What with the zillions of blogs out there, why would you donate to mine? Don't blame me for trying, though. And I thank whoever that one person was for their donation.

It seems fitting that the begging bowl is gone and the admission to mediocrity is up. Sure, like every other blogger, I want to be special, but it's like I used to say about people getting tattoos, "I want to be special, just like everyone else." Well, I do think we're all special, actually.

It's just that I enjoy blogging so much that I really want to justify it with some income. I can justify it by saying (and this would be true) that it's enriched my life. I adore the people I've met through this blog. Truly. I don't know why, but the folks who've left comments here all seem to be people I truly like (yes, I said adore, didn't I?)

That in itself should be enough, and it is, for the most part. Of course, since I'm unemployed, I need some income. But, looking for it in this arena is a pipe dream that an awful lot of other folks have. I might as well just play the lottery every day.

I'm not going to become the next "Things That White People Like" blog turned into best seller. No way. I have no gimmick and no hook. That's a problem. I can't even figure out what to tag my posts. What kind of tag is "something about us", anyway?

I like that tag, but it means nothing in the blogosphere. I just can't help being who I am. I really don't think I'm all that mediocre, but I sure don't fit into a neat little box that can be sold easily. And I did get a 7.3 on blogged.com (those jerks!) That's mediocrity!

This post is fairly pointless, isn't it? I have some things I'd like to write about, but I'm tired at the moment. I just wanted to bring your attention to the sidebar changes. And of course, Julie has a hard time getting to her point, every time.

Should we worry that I just spoke of myself in the third person? I'm not turning into George Bush, don't worry. I was just trying it out. I don't like it and don't plan on doing it again. Promise.

Painting note: Julian Schnabel, Untitled (Los Patos del Buen Retiro), 1991, oil, gesso on velvet, 457 x 457 cm
What does Julian Schnabel have to do with this post? Let's see: First, he's got one of the biggest egos of any human being I've ever heard speak. Noone can say a negative thing about Schnabel (see this past week's 60 Minutes). I admire his films quite a bit. He's an excellent director. His paintings? My opinion is so colored by that ego of his, that I can't say I have an honest assessment. The prices his work command is another issue (3 million dollars for an eh painting?) Whatever he does is golden. I doubt he's ever thought anything he's done in his life is mediocre. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe there's an insecure little boy inside that body somewhere. I certainly have to examine why he irks me so much, that's for sure.

I suppose it's pretty obvious. Last night, I was scratching my lottery tickets while thinking "I hope I win enough to buy a new mattress" over and over again. A new mattress?! Wow, I have big dreams, don't I? But I need a new mattress quite badly and I can't afford it. Meanwhile, Schnabel can sell a scribble on a napkin for the price of the mattress I can't afford. Not to mention all the starving children that need to be fed (big leap of thought here, I know). . .

Is embracing mediocrity a good idea? Yes and no. Yes, in the sense that it seems to free me up to be more creative. But then, I have to believe in what I've done and not call it mediocre, right? I have to practice all this. It's new stuff.

Addendum: I just realized I don't even know if allmediocre has even accepted me for their "mediocre blogroll." Geez, what if they don't? I will surely be embarrassed!

I wanted my first post to be something different!!! Something, about how desperately, I wait for winters to come. How I love this weather, its aura, falling orange and red leaves, the cool breeze, the intoxicating aroma hovering around in the season, which makes you yearn for so beautiful things in life, Nicotine, caffeine, someone's embrace, quilt's warmth and how it is the loveliest place to be!!! But somehow, was left with no plausible option.

 

Well, Now, I have started taking up two tuitions for two basic purpose.

1. Since, I am an UPSC aspirant, I need to have a broader look at NCERT books(I was an ICSE/ISC) passout.

2. Money, Honey!!!

 

Today, while returning back from Vasant Enclave, after taking a tuition, I took a bus from Dhaula Kuan to Safdurjung Terminal(btw, I walked all the way from VasantE to MotiBagh). Then, I took a bus back to Anand Vihar from there. It was 2215hrs. And from there, Ghaziabad(UP) juridisction starts, and they have this very interesting idea of closing all public transport by 2200hrs(in order to prevent crime, The top Hottest city of the world closes public transport. Won't be surprising, if tommorrow they prohibit people from coming out of home to prevent crime)

 

After 30-35minutes, finally got a law defying auto-wallah, had to hang on to side bars, and tag along. Finally, got a seat in a while. There was this lady, who was panicking, bacause a person in Swift Car, was following her for quite a while. She started crying, and asked Auto-wallah to stop the auto near any police post, personnel. But the auto-wallah got apprehensive, he would get caught in this problem, and secondly also because he was defying the rule. He didn't stop near the police patrol car. I asked him twice to do that.

 

Then, she, incidentally got down at the stop, I did. She asked me for help, if I could walk her to her home. Obviously, even I had, by then got concerned about the lady and her safety, as I saw the 40-something man, following the auto, stopping where the auto-stopped, moving again at the same pace, and also continously staring at the lady, and making obscene gestures. I asked her, first of all, not to panic. Then, I had to request her to stop looking backward, and keep on moving straight. While, all on earth I wanted then was to get hold of him, drag him out of the car, and give him a lesson to remember for his life. But, the lady would have got false advertisement by then. I might not be strong enough to fight someone, physically!! But that does never  deters me, as I would have done what I wanted, never to think about the repercussions.

Meanwhile, I called up 100 from my cellphone, here is the transcript, that followed:

"Hello, Police Control Room!! Sir, Mai Rajeev hu. Ek mahila hai unhe apke sahayta ki jarurat hai. Ek aadmi unka kaafi der se peecha kar raha hai, aur gande sanket de raha hai! Humlog abhi Vasundhara, Sec-4 me hai...."

Before, I could finish....

"tum kaun bol rahe ho? tum us aurat ke saath kya kar rahe ho?", cutting me short, he replied

"Ye musibat me hai, inhe meri sahayta chahiye thi. Mai bhi usi auto se safar kar raha tha..."

Cutting me short again, "Ye admi inhi ka peecha kyu kar raha hai? Itni raat to ye aurat kya kar rahi hai"

I thought the lady's voice might melt him and handed over phone to him. My blood was raging, anyways, at his questionnaire.

 

He started asking quite uncomfortable qsn to the lady, she said, "Bajay iski aap meri madad karo, aap maje le rahe ho?"

I snatched the phone from her, and said....

"I have the SSP no, and I know him personally, you want me to call him up, and complain about you as well. Get it simple, clear, and loud..It is A silver Swift Car UP-14AP-2437, and we are near Mewar College, either send the cops now, or ......and yes, write down the lady's no."  I asked for her no, and gave it to him.

 

Since, He was driving very slow, and just behind us, he might have had heard me getting furious at a cop. He turned his car backward, and suddenly zipped away.

 

That leaves me so frustrated, and so disgusted at the attitude, thinking, of the people.

 

1. An International magazine had rated, Ghaziabad as one of the the, and on top of the list "10 Hottest Cities of        the WOrld". Ohh, really in what terms? Civic amenities, law and order, transport, health, electricity??  No,          Naaah, Nahi!!!Or, as I say, just the  property prices??? Could very well be that consortium of builder paid in      millions, to get this published! So deeply rooted is corruption, that at times every thing tend to loose its                  credentials, and credibility!!!

2. Its falls under National Capital Region, and yet it has no proper transport system, people have to rely on                 private plying autos. And then, prohibiting public transport by 10pm to curb crime. Gosshh!! Why not                force people inside home! No one would move out, and eventually no crime.

    Since, Ghaziabad police's lower rank officers are so inept, corrupted(in detail, about that some other time. I          have    numerous example), they think its the best way out, and they could relax, and get bribes from those          flouting        their  norms! Pathetic!

3. Men with such disgusting attitude should be castrated, slapped, insulted infront of their mother, sister, wife,            and daughter. Such male, stooping so low, get all male labelled as "so many names". Let it be!

4. What is a police officer supposed to do? Ask the lady, in gory details, sitting at the comfort of office, and             not       doing anything about it. When all he has got to do, is call a nearby PCR?

 

Such irksome things, really bothers me to the core!

 

hardly a metre from Kaushambi(UP) is Delhi. I would say, Delhi Police is one of the best in the world. Courteous, friendly, efficient, Comparatively though! Civic Amenities are world class, red-tapeism and lethargic bureaucracy are comparatively lesser. Why can't UP learn from its counterpart???? Metres away and yes so far!!! You get to see the huge difference, on the divide, standing at any point of the long border UP shares with Delhi.

 

 

And why we as an individual wait for groups to form first, and believe they should do everything? Have we become really that selfish, such self-centred? Are we not supposed to protect any women's(for that matter, anyone) dignity? Have we not been taught Indian Culture, or, was it too hard for us to imbibe? Leave imbibing, how does our conscience allows us to run away leaving someone in distress(Assuming that bastard, had no conscience at all)? It is only when, tragedies falls on us, that we realise the gravity of the situation, only then, nature of the realm beckons us!!! Why?

 

Why? Its high time, we all put ourselves to certain plausible amount of introspection!!!!

Will Quote few lines from "Madhushala"

 

क्षीण, क्षुद्र, क्षणभंगुर, दुर्बल मानव मिटटी का प्याला,

भरी हुई है जिसके अंदर कटु-मधु जीवन की हाला,

मृत्यु बनी है निर्दय साकी अपने शत-शत कर फैला,

काल प्रबल है पीनेवाला, संसृति है यह मधुशाला।।

---- बच्चन

 

  

 

Back to Blogging, after a long hiatus! Welcome....

मृदु भावों के अंगूरों की आज बना लाया हाला,
प्रियतम, अपने ही हाथों से आज पिलाऊँगा प्याला,
पहले भोग लगा लूँ तेरा फिर प्रसाद जग पाएगा,
सबसे पहले तेरा स्वागत करती मेरी मधुशाला।।
— बच्चन (मधुशाला)

Finally decided to start blogging all over again, after an hiatus of 3 years. (Last blog of mine was around two and half years back, then I used to blog athttp://abhiyantriki.blogspot.com and http://wheatandrose.blogspot.com, but then all of a sudden decided to suspend it all

My Grey Cells keep on buzzing me every now and then, which somehow gets diversified and eventually lost in plethora of insipid activities. However, now, I’ll try to Bindaas Bol now, as soon as a brain rhythmic activity occurs!

Well, I quoted Bacchan Saheb at the very first, as I always have been a die-hard fan of his trilogy, including Madhushala, which has been my alltime favorite!

I’ll be writing about almost everything and eventually, nothing…hehe! That’s not my plan, though! I usually write toward matters pertaining to society, nation, interest, hobbies, politics et al. So, Incase you find my works/write-ups/scribbles/random thoughts/useless banters, useful, informative or interesting, do not forget to link me up. (Afterall, at many instances, don’t you wish, that someone(in some cases,”that someone”), read your personal diary. So no harm, if I expect you all to read this not-so-personal or rather, public blog. 
And comments are mandatory…..Good or bad, doesn’t matter…..

so, welcome aboard….

http://bharatmelange.blogspot.com /

 http://bindaasbol.tumblr.com  

Regards,
Rajeev Ranjan.