The Dentist: Torture Update

Over the one hour during which the sound of drilling was ceaseless, I wondered if my teeth would now be made entirely of faux enamel.

The dentist warned me, in a voice of doom that although I didn’t need a root canal this time, it was a really deep cavity and there would be a good chance the nerve might get exposed eventually.

Why does something that needs to be hard and thats meant to be an all round toughie, evolve to be soft and mushy on the inside with a very sensitive touchy feeling nerve?

It’s entirely evolutionarily redundant.

It’s purposeless.

It’s just plain annoying & painful.

I just found out that Leo, the drama queen, is a drill virgin. It’s his first cavity ever *Aw*.

He should visit my lady dentist. I’m sure she’ll be gentle.

David Shrigley

Leo tried to out drama Riddhi last night when she neglected to tell him he was invited to her house.

“How could you do this to me??

You didn’t tell me your parents were in Goa and you invited her??

I’m really hurt man, after I got you a present man,

How could you do this to me? Don’t you love me? You obviously don’t mean it anymore…

You don’t even include me in any of your plans! “

Riddhi, the melodrama pro that she is, came back with

“But dude, you’re my brother, I don’t need to give my brother an invitation to his own house…”

Oof what a line. Leo was stumped.

He rallied himself for one last effort but Riddhi was far too good.

She thrashed him soundly with,

“You never told me your family secret and you told her! How could you lie to me for so many years?!”

He was completely checkmated.

Occasionally they involve me in their melodrama but mostly they whine to each other.

I have a theory that they’re both sublimating their lack of any real relationship with fake husband-wife dramatics.

I can only pray they both don’t find love anytime soon otherwise I might have to find a new source of entertainment.

Vati takes us to an Abselutely Funtaastic Restaurant

My Grandfather Puru, is a pure bred mallu and thinks many things are ‘abselutely funtaastic’.
He refused to let an electrician wire his house so he has the fan switch behind a cabinet, then has a hole cut through the wood so you can turn it on. None of his plug points have switches so everything shorts or catches on fire, but he did an amazing job, he insists.

It was an epiphany when I realized that my mother’s neurotic shit must be genetic and not just menopause hormones.

Mutti threw us out of the house on Xmas eve in preparation for the party of old fogies coming over that evening. [7:30 drinks, 9:00 dinner, bed by 11:00 what a night], so Vati [that's Puru] took us here for lunch.

Rise? hahahaha ah rise. I knew you well

What is silver soup?

Something you might need to have after you eat here

Haw! How dirty….*blush*

Malia malia?? hahahahaha

But it was Bott like no Bott before

Scups!! HAHAHA this just gets betterer and betterer. Who doesn’t like a nice scups of ice cream?

She was one hot little smokin kebab

I’m not sure if a hard lassi becomes a scups by default but I wasn’t daring enough to try and find out.

I happened to order the hot and soup soup and it was quite nice nice

Prawaaans. hahahaha heh choke We were all so surprised they got ‘biryani’ right.

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH hahahaha

aha ha ha ha ha ha

hah

hah

heh.

hm.

Chicken Chople Stick

giggle tee hee

Aaaahhhh!

And this is truly ironic. The cherry on the typo sundae. Its all at Leo’s A/C [A/C to off it, if you would preferred thanks you]

Cantonays babayes

Fish Fing-air daaahling, how enchante en francay swaytay

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
HO HO HO [what with it being Xmas and all]
Aaaaaah… I’m all tee-hee-ed out now.

Isn’t it wonderfully coincidental how Leo, the Queen of anal retentive spelling should have a namesake food joint with so many typos? [and a friend who can barely spell to report it?]

Is it the future of the writing of Leo M? The rise was quite good though.

As my mallu grandfather would say “All the parameters were completely funtaastic!”

The Parsi Posse

The blog world easily seeps out into the real world.

Leo had a post up about bawas, his pal and some pictures this woman took in the tower of silence.

(For the uninitiated, when a Parsi dies, they’re taken to this hill-top in Mumbai where there’s a deep limestone well (The Tower). The flesh is eaten by vultures while the bones are meant to dissolve in the limestone/acid/solar panels.)

Then somehow over lunch this developed into a massive debate. My mother being semi-catholic is very anti-Tower of Silence. Being a semi-parsi I find the idea of the garden on the hill facing the sea, the Tower of Silence with the circling vultures, the rites and rituals, the rotting corpse, all highly romantic. So I’m obviously very pro-Tower of Silence

Besides, the idea of bits of my body flying around and landing on the Godrej building balconies and pissing off those bastard cunt residents who built high over OUR holy site so shamelessly (who also have a sea view and probably earn way too much), gives me a lot of mental satisfaction. They fucking deserve it.

I was hugely disappointed when my great-grandmother was cremated thanks to her Americanized idiot son, Sonny Uncle. My Great Gran was a real whale of a woman, so to be fair even the most ambitious, ravenous vulture would have been daunted.

I told my mother gross pictures or not, I’m having it written in my will and witnessed that when I go, I go to the bagh.

My dad suggested I talk to Vera about going sometime in the day.

“No no, I meant when I GO!”

“Oh! Ha ha I thought you meant for a visit.”

said my dopey father

“But did you even see the pictures? They were rotting bodies! It’s so gross!! It’s inhumane!”

cried the catholic in denial (Mother)

“Inhumane? How can it be inhumane?? They’re dead! Besides what did you think happened to a corpse? What happens in a coffin? Do you think the bodies decompose in a beautiful religious way while their skin glows and an angel flaps down to take them to heaven? If anything in an airtight coffin a body can decompose over years!”

I argued brilliantly

Anyway this is my point

1. What did they honestly think happens to a corpse when it decays?

Does everyone have an idealized view of what happens? A body can only decay so fast. There is a reason people are forbidden to go to that area of the Tower of Silence. It’s not disrespectful, it simply shatters their religious faith (as my father pointed out)

2. Much more importantly, what really is the problem here, (that everyone seems to side step) is that if this woman went to a church graveyard, bribed someone to dig up a coffin and then published photos of the decaying corpse, she would be taken to court for grave robbery straight away. The decaying corpse would be a side issue entirely.

The real issue here is her breaking the rules for the own convenience, bribing the attendants, clearly violating the privacy of the bagh, violating not only the dead by publishing those photos but also the memory of the living and then was outraged herself??

That’s the real issue here. Not the fact that the vultures are dying, not that a body might take a long time to decay. Any other religion and she’d have the pants sued off her or better yet have a good ol’ fashioned fatwah on her head.

This woman needs to be taken to court. Her actions should not be condoned. Otherwise why stop there? Why not start digging up grave yards, mock the Hindu burial rites, giggle at the Muslims? (Well don’t do the latter, it’ll get you killer but you get the gist)

So, I want to know, who the hell is taking this law breaking, grave robbing bitch to court?

 

The Dentist

I am apparently a border line root canal case.

They never warned me this could happen.

I always thought that all the horror stories I heard about dentists and root cancls only happened to other careless people who didn’t brush their teeth.

But I DID and I DO!!

Twice a day and this still happened

I have never been so happy to have a filling done in my life.

I pray that its only a deep and painful filling.

Then I can redo all the other 4 fillings so they don’t chip like this one did, thus causing these complications and hopefully I can soon put all this woe behind me.

What is an ‘H’?

Hs Celebration of Life. Many Hs! The excitement.

I am slowly recovering, having landed in Hyderabad this morning, from last night’s party above.

Now you might wonder, what is an ‘H’?

And it’s a good question.

A very good question.

A question with many, many answers.

Confusing answers, long and rambling pointless answers

Answering such a question deserves an entire post of its own.

Suffice to say a ‘H.’ consists of many strange things.

There are big Hs, regular Hs and little Hs (Much like Goldilocks’s bears). Then there is alternative H or, as we like to call him, just Captain H.

It is a weird and wonderful thing when you see all the Hs congregating in one single place. There were even the H extensions, the Ns and the Ms.

By midnight 2 out of the 3 more youthful Hs were completely smashed on the bartenders exotic creations, (one of which was a strawberry flavoured, frothy vanilla ice cream margarita. That genius man!)

I almost had an entire proper conversation with regular H. while he was still on his second or third drink but after that it all deteriorated rapidly.

You can immediately tell when an H is high.

Stage 0: Before 2-4 drinks, mostly sober

Stage 1: The arm slips around your shoulder and he suddenly gets very limber

Stage 2: The arm tightens around you, he starts to bends down a little (being a tall guy) and whispers confidentially in your ear.

Stage 3: Lots of bending and hugging, the whispering confidentially in your ear continues but less coherently.

Stage 4: Bending, slurring, incoherence, some obnoxiousness and general idiocy.

Stage 5: Standing and sleeping. Obliviousness to all surroundings.

Stage 6: Sleeping. Anywhere. In any place.

Any kind of sane conversation after Stage 2 and Stage 3 of High H. is impossible. Even little H. gets fiery and crazy after a few drinks.

During Stage 0 (Pre-drunken state) H interrogated me vigorously on that stupid DNA article I wrote (long story) that caused no end of trouble (and is still causing me just a bit of tension).

Instead of actually allowing me to finish my sentences and tell him what happened, the H. told me exactly what he knew happened and vociferously tried to push me into agreeing with his own little version of events.

Somehow during Stage 3-4 of H. drunkenness, little H. picked a massive fight with someone who had picked a fight with alternative H. a year ago.

Later at Stage 3 or 4 (the limber, bending stage) regular H. became unusually odd, at one point putting his arm around me and bending his head down, all the way down to my waist (H is a very tall man, but I was a little puzzled when he did this).

Later he put his arm around me again, tilted his head back and proceeded to slowly show me his tongue.

Sometime during Stage 4 he said

“Don’t hue get all cocky and shhhhhit with me. Hey! Are you like being cocky with me?”

I jusht want to make one shimple requesh ok…just one shimple requesh…listen man…it’s just..a simple..request….listen…I jusht wanna tell you…”

He went on like this for about 5 minutes after which he shoved me quite hard in the ribs. I never found out what that simple request was because by now I was pretty annoyed. I told him not to touch me again and then moved away.

Aside from that it was a great party. The cake was moist, the bartender unusually talented and most of our age group of girls and boys were both well dressed and hot.

Mane dropped me and Riddhi home by about 3 in the morning, after a quickie smoke in his car.

Those delightful red shoes I went on and on about (and here too) finally made it out for their first test drive and they were EXCRUCIATING!!! I have developed beautiful blisters on the back on my ankles now. Dammit all!

But on the positive side, they looked fucking fabulous. (I’m so shallow)

Squeeze

I finally decided to leave the little womb of my house, detach my ass from the garden furniture and actually go out.

Leo said he was covering some event at a new Smirnoff bar called ‘Squeeze’, he promised free booze and all the cool press privileges that came along with it.

So very excited I actually wore a skirt and my flat black boots for this bum.

He came over at about 10 and then sat around with my brother, mom and dad watching some generic, entirely predictable sitcom.

My family has never entirely mastered the concept of walking across a room to hold a conversation. We only communicate across the house, in very loud shouting matches.

I’ll yell from across the dining table,

“MOOOOOM!! WHERE’S MY TEEEEAA??”

My mom will yell from the kitchen,

“WHAT? WHAT TEA? IS THIS YOUR TEA? I DRANK IT BY ACCIDENT. EAT YOUR LUNCH!”

“I’M NOT HUNGRY. STOP FORCE FEEDING ME!”

My brother will yell from his room,

“MOM! I’M HUNGRY FOOOOOOD! WHERE IS MY KNEE BRACE?”

I’ll continue and yell

“HEY! WHO’S GOT THE CAT? WHERE IS THE CAT?”

My father will complain no one is paying him any attention while Leo sits there giggling like a moron.

“Has J gone? J?? Has she gone??”

My mom asks Leo as I’m in my loo.

The walls literally being made of tin sheets, I can hear her as if she were right in the loo, which doesn’t help me pee any quicker.

“HOW CAN I BE GONE MOM?? LEO IS STILL HERE, IF HE’S HERE WHY WOULD I HAVE LEFT??”

Finally, I mean finally, we are ready to leave for ‘Squeeze’.

Just as Leo puts one foot out the door Riddhi calls to say she is coming to pick us up and she’ll drop us off at her house.

Her house is no closer to ‘Squeeze’ than mine but of course the ulterior motive is to smoke in her car on the way. (That devious minx)

Leo and I get scolded for daring to make a plan that didn’t include her.

“You guys obviously don’t love me as much as you said yesterday!! ALL LIES! Why didn’t you tell me your plan?? And fucking pick up your phone BITCH!”

“Dude! You said and I quote ‘Haan so you guys I won’t see you until you come back from Hyderabad or if your going for H.’s party on Friday so bye I’m damn busy tomorrow’.

Anyway come with us now babies, come on it’ll be fun. A party isn’t the same without you, we love you, come on man”

(This woman demands major bhav)

“No way dude, I’m too tired anyway I hate Squeeze and besides I shall never forgive you for not telling me about this plan.”

Such a drama queen.

I have realised that Leo has no fucking press privileges. I was so disillusioned.

Squeeze decor was entirely red and black with bamboo featuring some third-rate Photoshop artwork mounted on light-boxes (also in red). Some guy called Raghav was performing anglo-desi pop to a mini group of cheering girls and boys.

Leo tried to go upstairs but rebuffed by the security person or some PR person. He then grudgingly spoke to the PR lady but still couldn’t get upstairs OR score any free booze.

Somewhat defeated, we bought 2 very expensive drinks and parked our loser behinds on a bench outside (not even inside) oogling (what a great word, almost onomatopoeic) at any cuties going by.

Within 40 minutes or less Leo and I were  back home sitting in the garden.

Parent Goading

Parent goading is a surprisingly entertaining if somewhat exhausting hobby.

I spent all afternoon winding my mother up, who cannot leave me or my room alone.

“It’s MY house why should I have to put up with a messy room blah blah?”

“But then why did you even have kids? Why didn’t you just put me up for adoption??” and so on

She also missed her afternoon nap in the process more reason to be supremely cranky. Then I found the kitten again and placed it on the sofa.

When my mother is wound up anyone in her path gets the brunt of her nagging. So of course, my irritating her was then deflected on my poor dad [who had done nothing and said nothing]

“You agree with her don’t you?? She’s YOUR child [I'm suddenly HIS child], NO no don’t try and kiss me I know you just love living in a mess!“

Poor pop.

Anyway now she’s so wound up anything causes her to throw a tantrum.

She asked me if I would be in the living room to babysit the cats or whatever she wanted babysitting and I said I might go for a bath and she suddenly went “FINE fine then!! I guess I just wont go out now!!”

So I had to back down and yell at her that I wouldn’t bathe and then quickly distract her by talking about the cat.

Sigh

So stressful.

Shopping

I really don’t understand my mother’s attitude to shopping.

She drags me out, when I have a splitting headache, sneezing, wheezing and coughing (if I’m going to be sick you’re all going to hear about it) to Shoppers Stop.

She then tells me I spent too much money shopping last year, so I feel guilty and say

“Fine fine, lets not shop anymore. I honestly don’t need any more clothes.”

Then she gets all offended and shocked and says

“What?? You don’t even want to go to Westside? But they have some really nice things!”

What the hell am I supposed to do?

I’m just not one of those window shopper types. How do people ever enjoy window shopping? I hate wanting and not having.

Delayed gratification means nothing to me.

I hate being sick on holiday.

cough cough cough whine sniff

I can’t wait for Oprah.

If only my phone had a better camera