A Thing of Beauty…
Oddly enough, this morning I chanced upon – not one – but two entities of exceptional beauty.
The First
It stopped raining (finally!!) last night and so this morning has been cold, but fresh none the less. I was in the tram, waiting to get to class. Now morning times are not the best of times to people-watch. First of all, the subjects of the the watching exercise are not yet in their peak of sociability. Second of all, early morning make-up is NOT a pretty sight. So what I have learnt – from observation – is that people watching is an activity best left to a later time in the day. Having said that, there I was, sitting in my usual seat, waiting for the tram to leave, when I see this lady walk across the road to the bus-stop.
Now I am not yet driving on the other side of the road, so to speak, but being of a somewhat open and liberal pre-disposition of the mind, one can’t but help appreciate a Thing Of Beauty when one happens to chance upon it! Let me see, I believe they stopped making beautiful women after Audrey Hepburn so for me to actually notice and then go on to admit that one is passably good-looking is rather rare indeed.
The lady in question was nothing exceptional. About 5′ 5″, 30-ish. Denims, green pullover. Not skinny but not chubby either. In fact, she didn’t even have great skin. But what she did have was a very clean look. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean to imply that people on the whole are not clean. If you do remember, I have mentioned that most people here, in Torino, appear to have stepped out of the Vogue – dressed up and made up – at 7 a.m. But this lady wasn’t like that. She had clean, washed skin. That’s it. I don’t think she even had gloss on! And the best part is that she didn’t look haggard or stripped of war paint with out the make up! That is why she stuck out as exceptional against the general rule. The hair was not coloured – and trust me, you get some pretty in-your-face coloured hair here. Pink. Red. Orange. Yellow. Name it, you got it. So plain, brown, straight hair, well-combed was such a treat to see!
So all-in-all, watching that lady was a nice way to start the day.
The Second
You know how some days just get better as they go along?
So I continued the people-watching bit while the tram wound it’s way through Torino. Had to de-tram to switch over to the No. 45 bus that goes past College. Just as I was rounding the corner to get to the No. 45 bus-stop, guess what I came up against, parked in the middle of the pavement?
An HD.
A Road King HD.
A restored, 1979 Road King HD.
With the HD flames.
*sigh*
I was late for class. That is all that I can say.
Tid bits
Let’s see what’s on the menu today. A random collection of tidbits!
Pissed off with Italian bus-ticket inspectors. Got challaned 25 E today for having validated my bus pass one time too many! Get this – everything in this country is in Italian. No french, no german and most definitely no english. So when I land here, the first thing I do is get myself to a Tousim Info Point which then proceeds to inform me – in fluent italian – that since I am still 25 years old, I can avail of a bus pass. Right. So I get myself one and on the first bus ride, have it validated in the machine.
So far so good. The next day, I get on and repeat the process. Since there is absolutely no information posted anywhere about the use of bus passes, this continues for three days. Whereupon a really nice lady in one bus points out that I don’t need to validate the pass more than once a month. Fine. But by now my pass has a few stamps on it already. Never mind, I say and learn my lesson for the next month.
Today of all days, after class, I board a bus packed with people. Out pop two ticket inspectors. Fine. No problem. I whip out my pass when they promptly proceed to stop the bus at the next stop and in again fluent italian inform in in no uncertian terms that either I dish out 25 E or head to the nearest police station with them.
Hang on. Wait a minute. I’m a lawyer.
So out we go and stand on the kerb and argue – they in italian and me in english – saying positively the same thing over and over again till I’m fed up with the lot of them and hand them 25 E. There. Went. My. Grocery. Shopping. For. The. Week. B*******.
That’s that.
Had lectures for the past two days on China’s (lack of) justice system. Yawn.
One thing I find extremely odd about the cold climates – the habit of fussing with one’s clothes all the time.
Let me explain. Back home, we wear what we do and then we forget about it. But here, it’s a striptease on-and-off every time! Since most places are air conditioned, once indoors, one can walk around in Ts and denims. But being outdoors requires a whole new wardrobe to be emptied onto the self. So on comes a jacket, boots, gloves, a muffler and a cap. Now get to a bar, ristorante, cinema hall, class, office – anywhere – and there. You need to strip off the extra clothing. This, of course, is not done gracefully at all. Ok, well, atleast not by me. You need to be born here to be graceful with stripping off a pullover. I always resemble a bedraggled child whenever I have to pull off jerseys. Anyways! So yes, the point being, it’s unnerving. The whole put-on-take-off routine. And annoying. Can’t wait for better weather!
Hmmm… let’s see. What else! Read my first Danielle Steele. That, my dear, is the extent of my boredom in life. Help. Please.
Am in deperate need of a back massage. We have these really odd chairs and tables in class, made for spineless midgets. Sitting on them for close to 9 hours a day is literally back breaking. In fact, it’s been so bad that sitting there at the front of the class today (yes, I was that unlucky! Got in late. All the the good back seats were taken! ) kept myself entertained with thoughts of a good back massage. Sadly they are to stay unattained since I am morbidly afraid of getting one at a spa for obvious health safety reasons.
Rambled on enough. Have a look-see at the previous post. Nats has done a good job! Thank you lady!
Introductions.
There are two entities that I introduce you to today. A friend. And me.
Actually, it goes like this. A friend wanted to put up a 100th on her blog and asked for audience participation in the form of questions. I – like the wonderful nutcase that I am – asked her things about us. Of course that turned out to be not-so-bright an idea since the rest of the world doesn’t exactly know me and my history with her!
But by then, the idea seemed really good! So instead, I sent across fresh non-topical questions for the 100th anniversary post AND a bunch of questions for her to answer to do as a guest post here! So now what you have coming up, is an introduction to the authoress and her take on me!
Natasha
She’s born half a day ahead of me – literally. She’s witty and quippy. She’s glamorous and so together. She’s elegant, poised and a very successful acreer-woman. She’s a child when it comes to enjoying the simple pleasures of food, family and friends. She’s taught me, laughed with me, partied with me and seen me grow up. I – in turn – have watched her come out of a relatively cocooned life to watch the world with honest eyes and accept with grace the fact that life deals different cards to different people. She is one of the treasures I cherish and is a mirror to my life – as clean as they come. Here’s her take on me.
Q. Why do you think you and I have lasted over so many years?
A. You mean apart from the fact that we have diametrically opposite tastes in men? LOL. Come to think of it, we have always been fiercely individualistic and still managed to be great friends. I guess one half of the trick is being honest about our opinions, likes and dislikes. And as ‘beauty-pageant-final-answer-type’ as it may sound, the other half is the inherent respect we have for each other. Of course being born on the exact same day must mean that somewhere deep down we’re not that different.
Q. What’s the favourite memory you have of any time we have spent together and why?
A. Hands down the silly NDA Ball we went for back in the day. Hell I still remember how excited we were about it and how minutely we planned the whole thing, down to the bloody makeup. Don’t think I will ever forget how my date freaked me out and yours won the title of Mr. NDA. The Cinderella treatment was a whole other issue! Remember that crazy girl we befriended in the bus, the one that later absconded with a rather cute cadet? God that was an awesome (and crazy) night!
Q. What’s the one mistake you think I have made that has had the biggest effect in my life?
A. Law school… duh! 
Ok seriously, I think most of your decisions are made with other people’s best interests in mind instead of your own. As a result you’re always trying to do stuff that makes other people happy. Wish there was one instance in particular but there have been too many to pin down (you know that!). Which brings me to your next question…
Q. What’s the one achievement of mine you are really proud of?
A. I cannot even begin to tell you just how proud it makes me to see you rediscover yourself, the girl I knew back in college with a head full of dreams to make it big in life, with a passion to achieve great things.
The last few years have been difficult, having to deal with the responsibilities that circumstances forced on you and a few wrong choices you might have made. Every time you spoke of wanting to settle for second best, it made me cringe because I knew that was not like you at all.
Today I see you getting out of your comfort zone to transform your dreams into reality and it makes me so proud! You’ve wanted this for so long and no one deserves it more than you do.
Q. What’s the one thing you really want for me or to happen to me?
A. A few years back I might have said I want you to meet someone wonderful who gets you, the essence of who you are. However as they say, one gets wiser with age. Neither of us needs someone to make us feel complete, we’re a little too good for that!
So to answer your question – I really want you to become the person you have always dreamed of being… The kickass professional who works for the betterment of society while fulfilling her inherent need to make a difference to the world at large instead of some sellout attorney like most batch mates we know have landed up being J
Q. What’s the one thing you think I can change about myself and should?
A. Can I mention two things please?
One – I think you let people into your heart and life too easily. It doesn’t take much for you to trust someone and that is not really the best trait to possess, especially if it has serious repercussions on your life later on.
Two – You need to experiment with the joys of colours and fashion. There are too many pretty clothes and styles out there for you to be stuck with the staid and boring!
Q. What’s the one thing you think I should not change about myself ever?
A. Your unique brand of craziness. I have never met someone so intelligent and so crazy at the same time.
Q. What’s the one thing you’re happy to have found/achieved/learned through me – presuming there is one?
A. Women can ride motorcycles.
Sharing a chocolate dessert and catching up on life with a friend is more fun than dolling up and going out on a date (sometimes
It takes a lot of balls to say ‘Get the F*$^ out of my life’ and mean it.
Living alone in a foreign land isn’t as romantic or fun as one might believe.
You can’t go wrong with a short black dress.
Q. What is the one thing you want for me and you in the next 12 months?
A. A dream vacation exploring the splendours of Europe together, replete with holiday romances, bouts of alcoholism and a visit to the Louvre.
The World This Week.
Or Random Stuff You Couldn’t Care Less About Either Ways.
Special Judge Rama Jain pronounced a sentence of death for Pandher and Kohli in the Nithari murder case. Not that it is of much use since the Supreme Court still stands by it’s reasoning of death in the rarest of rare case. Effectively this means that justice will be measured by the judge’s foot, as the saying goes. But a round of applause, none the less, for her judgment.
Pakistan registered a case against Ajmal Kasab at the Dockyard Police Station in Karachi under the Anti-Terrorism Act. Given the fact that Kasab is currently in India, committed henious acts of terrorism on Indian soil, against Indian citizens, one wonders what is being achieved by this particular move. Really, anyone, any practically appealing answers?
Jade Goody decided to have her last days captured on film for public viewing. Honestly, why?
An intact American satellite collided in space with a Russian satellite, spewing debris somewhere over northeren Siberia. As if one planet was not enough, we’ve started to make a mess in space too. We really are extremely short-sighted and self-centered creatures, aren’t we?
Doogie Hauser, M.D. – Indian-ishtyle
This space isn’t very popular. A few of you follow it regularly – which flatters me immensely, if I may so add! – but on the whole, since I don’t write for an audience, I am not popular. So when a friend of mine asks me to blog about him so that he is famous, I have my doubts as to the amount of fame he may achieve through this. But since he is a dear friend, he is more than welcome to this space.
Hence this post.
This is someone who is 22. A doctor. Other than that and the fact that he attended school with someone I love, I know positively nothing about him.
But this is about what I do know about him.
1. He’s a help, if ever there was one, when one needs it.
2. He is superbly dedicated to his vocation/profession, which is impressive.
3. He is slow to judge yet once he does, he stays by his decision.
Having said that, I can only be honoured to know him and have him as a friend, in my life. It takes a large heart to accept people - flaws and all – and he seems to have achieved that in my case.
Thank you Brownie.
Here’s hoping you achieve everything you’ve set out to!
Amongst other things…
In case anyone’s wondering about the exact nature of my work, I study the legality of the use of the technology mentioned above.
Russia and America share a Neapolitan Lunch
When a Russian musician and an American engineer share a Neapolitan lunch, in the presence of an Indian and a Colombian, you know the Global Village has truly arrived.
On sunday, my landlord hosted a farewell lunch for the American engineer – who happens to be my latest friend in Pastaland – since she flew out back home to Seattle early this morning. Hence, there was clam pasta as primo followed by baked potatoes with sausages in basil and olive oil as secondo. Of course all of it was washed down by with generous supplies of Muscato white (strawberry) flavour. Then came blood organges, custard tart and the final cafe – black as hell and sweet as love – to round off the meal. Lunch commenced at 2 and we were still at the table at 4. That, my dears, is normal for a sunday lunch. Don’t even think about how much they manage to put away!
But yes, coming back to the people present.
I can only feel about as big as an ant in that august company. Here’s a brief description of the people there.
My landlord. Aged 35 years (approximately). Masters in Optical Engineering. Ph.D. in something similar. Preparing final submission for second Masters in Psychology. Owns an engineering business. Teaches at a Polytechnic institute.
The American kid. Aged 23 years. Finishing her Graduation in Naval Engineering.
The Russian lady. Aged 27 years (approximately). Is a musician. Writes romance novels in Italian. Studies industrial engineering.
The Colombian kid. Aged 19 years. Is studying industrial design here.
Right.
You know what’s really astonishinig? That in the three weeks that I have been here, I have come across so many, many intelligent, intriguing people that it’s humbling to know the extent of the human mind! At the house party last sunday, for example, one kid was studying Math (her focus is Ramanujan’s theory!) and another is studying common law and international trade and foreign exchange! I mean, when I was their age, all I worried about was being late for dinner!
Anyways, on a personal note, am learning to build bridges. And here’s what real ice looks like…
Retail Therapy
Popular psychology has never quite been a forte of mine. In fact, psychology itself doesn’t really tickle my intellectual taste-buds. This of course, reinforces the fact that I am a very poor example of my entirely people driven profession. But let’s leave that one for the time being. Coming back to popular psychology, the point I was – or still am – making is that retail therapy does have it’s good effects!
So, since most of you are aware that I am possibly at the nadir of the Blues at the moment, in a fit of desperation, I shopped for a much needed pair of boots. Now here’s the deal with shopping and me – I will think about it, fantasize and walk past the windows, look for bargain deals and plan budgets around the intended purchases. But I will very, very rarely ever translate my make-belief world into reality. That is the thing with me – the only time the all pervasive shopaholic-ness overpowers me is in a book store. There. I’ve said it. I’m a biblio-holic. It’s been four weeks since I last gave in to that particular indulgence.
But coming back to the issue at hand, the purchase of boots. At the moment, I happen to be in a place where toes tend to freeze, no matter the number of socks, unless there is thick leather on top. Now yours truly had had the sense to wear leather except for the slight oversight – the shoes need resoling. Given that patent leather rarely takes resoling well, I had to admit defeat to the inclement weather and find myself a new pair of boots. But then, this was the story three weeks ago ( wow! It’s already three weeks here!) about which I did Jack-all till this afternoon.
Wait.
That is incorrect. I did do something. I window-shopped obsessively. I tried on umpteen number of shoes. I bargain-hunted like a woman possessed. But either those ones were too expensive or not my colour or not my size or the worng style.
And then, this afternoon, it happened. They were there. The right price. The right size. The right colour. I was floored.
Going by the fact that they are neither the most stylish or the hottest thing this season or even all that exqusite, I was still pretty much high walking out with the bag when I crossed another shoe store with another mega-winter-discount sale. Guess what I did? Yepp! Looked for boots. And guess what I found? The exact same pair for double the price.
Retail therapy has it’s profits.
Language.
Being in a different country that speaks a language alien to one brings home quite a few facts.
Language is not just about the words and the grammar and the sentence structure. It’s about reference to contexts, ideas, thoughts, social structures, local news… oh! so much, much more than just the language itself! It’s how a people think. It’s how life is lived. It’s about daily routines and social networks. It’s about mundane, everyday, ordinary things like how a nation shops or a national preoccupation with coffee-bars.
A friend visited the previous post and voiced an opinon about how nice it was. It made my day since I’ve had a particularly disturbing day. But apart from that, the actual comment focused on my use of words. This of course, made me think.
I once read a character in a book say that writing is over-rated. That there are entirely too many books written by too many people about too many things. Though at that time it did not fix itself in me, it has shown to have the ability to pop up once in a while when I start to take myself seriously.
Which brings me to that phrase – taking oneself too seriously.
A few days ago, someone declared – rather openly – that they do not take themselves too seriously. What struck me was, if one goes to the extent of actually saying that, then is that not oxymoronic immedeately? Then today, that phrase popped up again – in a similar situation. Funny, isn’t it, how words and phrases that seem to be out of sight, pop up randomly again and again, in a bunch and then disappear? I have a feeling this particular one is going to go undergraound once Torino is in the past. But for the time being, it seems to want to make its presence felt! So yes, coming back to the phrase, I’ve been wanting to understand what it means. Is it narcissim? Is it self confidence? Is it egotism? Is it none of these? Is it wrong to believe in what one stands for, what one says? Is it too self-centered to fight for a cause one cares for? A whole bunch of questions and no answers seem upcoming.
Anyways, I digress.
Coming back to language – did you know that tiramisu means “pick me up” – literally – in Italian? Or that “always” is stated as for time in italian? Interesting, isn’t it!
