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Naan fiction Archive
The story of my life
What is a blog without a space for some gossip, joys and frustrations of one’s life? It is not that tit-bits from my life are of interest to you or that it matters. Writing in a blog is like singing in a bathroom – it is a place for self-expression. It is written for the sake of writing, with no expectation that anyone will read it. Like bathroom singing, at best it amuses those who happen to hear it and at worst it annoys. I recognise that you, my reader, have reached this place in your journey to somewhere else and while you are here, I hope to amuse more than annoy.
P.s. You must be wondering why this is called “naan fiction”. Naan in Tamil means Me or I; welcome to the story of my life.
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I cared because I did not care
Posted on August 7, 2009 | 1 CommentRumblings of an ex-activist in his early thirties Why have I ceased to care about the world? Why is my commitment vanishing? Fifteen years ago if I saw blind person struggling to cross the road, I would jump off my bicycle to help him cross, and make a mental note on how I will change public transport. Now I watch my watch and glide away hoping someone will do my job for me. I wonder today if I cared then since I did not have a care in the world. Caring parents, carefree friends and a careless school set the... -
Age is the greatest fire extinguisher
Posted on August 7, 2009 | 1 CommentRumblings of an ex-activist in his early 30s It seems like a short while ago when no dream seemed like just a dream. Making a billion, changing the world, ending poverty, peace and a few such things seemed pedestrian and utterly possible. There was a fire in me to go and be a part of the action, with merely passing doubts about what’s possible. Nothing seemed big, and I wanted to be everywhere. The thirties have come and my dreams have become smaller. A comfortable bed excites me more than a peace march, and jobs more than work. I fear... -
On being the target of targeted advertisements
Posted on June 7, 2009 | No CommentsThe struggle to hide from the advertiser leads me to trouble -
To a brave cousin
Posted on December 5, 2008 | No CommentsThe husband of my most admired cousin died today. It was sudden and completely unexpected by any of us, and he was just 44. I am told that she has taken this bravely; courage has been the story of her life. Nine years ago she had a child with severe CP. Through these years, I have never once seen her complain, and was touched every time I met her to see her cheerful dedication to give the child a good life. She trained herself in special education and became a teacher in the school that her child goes to. Special... -
My sex life
Posted on September 27, 2008 | No CommentsMy relationship with sex could be summarized in the following terms: ignorance, followed by awareness, followed by an absolute unwillingness to engage, academic engagements, followed by willingness (accompanied by lack of opportunities) and finally now, the curious sexual turn. After having had a fairly pristine life – sexually speaking – sex has now become an integral part of my life: they are always making love in the room upstairs. The charm of living in old wooden houses in America is that it gives you a sense of community. If (concrete) walls have ears in India, the wooden walls here have... -
In our own styles: Priyanka & I
Posted on June 29, 2008 | No CommentsIt’s difficult to imagine that the suave Bombay girl and I will have a common attitude to clothing (see note on cloth shopping). In my recent trip to Bombay, I discovered just that. Priyanka and I both prefer loose cloths. We just seem to do it from different perspectives. I do it conscious of my expanding waistline and she does it so that she can brag to her friends about having lost weight! -
The umbrella
Posted on June 29, 2008 | No CommentsJoie de vie could just be another name for Jubeet. Even in the exam season of D.School, you could count on her to see a perpetually cheerful person…and it was infectious. “Oh Vivek, I should tell you about this”, she’d often start, her face brightening as she broke into mild laughter – and thus she started delightful stories of sweet little things in her life. When I met her and Rukma some years ago, they were besides themselves with joy, and I knew that they had a story to say. “Ohhh Vivek, I MUST tell you this” started Jubeet as... -
The importance of a pot belly
Posted on May 11, 2008 | 3 CommentsA Panchayat president I interviewed recently told me sweetly that people listen to her because she’s plump. Two years and twenty additional kilos earlier, I would have missed the import of the statement, but now I don’t. Let me give you a quick background before I start. I was very thin and was often called a skeleton, stick of a coconut leaf and other colourful adjectives. I left to the US in 2005 and after two years of Americanisation I got on the weighing machine. I pushed the scales to a familiar position and it remained upright. I nudged it... -
2007: An year with friends
Posted on December 31, 2007 | No Comments2007, like never before, has been a year with friends It started with Lindsey who decided to fly in on a New Year day to get a discount. I spent two wonderful weeks in company of this charmingly vivacious girl. There have been trips to Delhi to catch up with many a friend and colleague. The cream of it has been my time with friends at Syracuse and at Madras. The partner of a friend’s “driving teacher” at Syracuse (of all places in the world) turned out to be a guy who had worked with Colin Gonsalves in India (I... -
Frust444rat4ion
Posted on September 25, 2007 | No CommentsFrustration is all about small things Frustration 4444i4s a4l444l44 4a4bou4t 44small thin4gs444 44 444444444444444444 444444444444444444444444444444444444444444. For example your key board going bonkers and typing 4 as and when it pleases. Perhaps from a stress of travel, my 4 wireless keyboard started automatically inserting number 4 now and then driving me absolutely nuts. I got mad in a way that 4i normally do not, even 44444in44 fa4i4rl4y 4adverse4 circumstances such as loosing my passport. 44it’s then I landed on the brilli4a4n4t 44p44lan 444444444o4f 44w4ri4ti4ng 4th44i4s bl44og4 4p44o4st444444444444444444444 just to share with you what it’s like writing with the keyboard going totally...
