Doing It Yourself

My first brush with carpentry was to create a dove-tail joint out of two half-a-foot blocks of wood. In the carpentry shop in the mechanical department, I marked and I sawed, I chafed and I chiselled until I managed to fit the two blocks into a T, where one block held the other against movement in its length axis.

The second was to build a wardrobe out of this. :O















First, I fit the middle plank to the bottom and the main shelf-plank to make the skeleton of the wardrobe.














Then, the top panel (to the bottom of the pic) was joined and the side panels were clamped in.














The rear plys were then nailed in.















And then the whole thing was heaved and put against the wall. Once up, the doors were hinged in.















There, a decent wardrobe, with lots of hanging space, shelves on one side, and drawers and racks on the other.

















I bought this thing from a colleague who was leaving UK for good. Thankfully, he dismantled only the planks, and did not go all the way to the pegs. I'm glad I waited till the long weekend to get this thing up, because the next morning, I woke up with a pain in the lower back (which subsided after a session in the gym). Thankfully, few friends came in after the rear plys were nailed in, and helped me heave the wardrobe against the wall, and fit the doors in.

It was fun, no doubt, but you need to get your basics right. We fit and re-fit a door two times, but it was still not straight. It was finally brought in line by tweaking the position of the hinges. The right side doors are still a bit askew, but then... chalta hai.

About S and Love

Sometime back, I moved home. I moved out of the bachelor pad, and into a single BHK close to the office. The new place is a quiet little cosy place, which is tastefully decorated by the owner. I haven't had to bring much into it. It looks and feels so balanced in its minimalistic furniture that I don't want to bring anything and make the place cluttered. Recently, I bought a huge four door wardrobe from one of my colleagues who was returning to India for good. Him and me dismantled and brought it in our cars. I am yet to re-fit it again. The planks are just lying there, waiting to be fixed, but every other weekend, some thing or the other takes precedence.

Every night, after I return from office and fix myself some dinner, there is a lull before I actually go to sleep. If I turn the music down on the laptop, and keep the tall lamp in the corner glowing, it creates an introspective mood. It gives me time to think about S, about the fact that in less than a month, people will start referring to us as a single entity. It is not long before S joins me here and we start our own life. Sometimes, while the thought wanders aimlessly like this, the low music and the muted lighting creates a magical atmosphere and makes me miss her.

I think about how this will be a good time to start wooing her all over again. We have been together for almost eight years now. In these four years of being together and as many years of maintaining a long-distance relationship, some things have changed. For better, I would like to think. And then there are things that have not changed. She still laughs at my PJs. The good ones, that is. I hope it never changes. I think about how I used to wait my turn at telephone booths, and there used to be so much to talk about. I think about how I can call anytime I want now, and yet sometimes, there is nothing to talk about. But from then to now, the longing to hear my voice is still the same. I hope that never changes. I think about how her eyes sparkled on seeing me arrive at the bus-stand every morning. I recall the same sparkle when I was with her in January. I hope that never changes.

And then there are things which are revelations. I think about how, working in Bangalore, staying in PG's, she has become this independent woman I never knew. I think about how she gushes about her awards, and her shifts and deadlines and team-building and stuff, and I wonder, was this the same girl who did not write aptitude tests in college, because she was scared she would end up with the lowest scores. This in spite of the fact that the whole class copied her notes. I think about how, living in Bangalore, she has developed a 'taste'. I think about how she takes me all over Bangalore. I look with great interest as she darts back and forth through MG Road, holding my hand and leading me as though I were a child. In times like these, it is as if I am outside myself, leaning against a pole and watching her lead me as she weaves our way through traffic. I think about this and I smile. It must be the movies I watch. :D I think about how my excitement on seeing Shahrukh Khan and shaking hands with Amitabh Bachchan amused her. I think about how she chides me, for happily staying here, while she (poor soul!) is in India.

I think about how we will now be a single entity. How, should we attend any function alone, we will be asked why the other did not come. How, if we go out together, it will be acceptable. I will miss the risk and the guilt of making up reasons to go out and meet her. Somehow, the reality of the union is unreal. I want us to go back four years and live them together. I want to call her from office, and arrange to meet her at a multiplex, watch a movie, drop her and then go home. I want us to just hang out, see a sale, shop together. I want to cancel a day out with the boys to be with her. I want her to come over to my place on lazy Sunday afternoons, and to make us some tea, and go out to the terrace and talk about having to iron clothes for office the next day. I want to wait for her at the railway station on Friday evenings, so we could travel to Mysore together. Or by bike sometimes. I want to get up late on a weekend and realise I had to meet her at CCD, and make it double quick. I want my four years back.

And yet, I dream of us sitting together on the window sill on a rainy night, drinking hot tea, listening to the constant pattering of the raindrops on the glass. I dream of us washing the utensils and wiping them dry before going to bed. I dream of us in bed on warm balmy afternoons, too lazy to get up, talking about nothing in general. I dream of us sitting down and working out finances and homestead. I wonder if these will make up for the four years.

I have good colleagues at my job, I have more friends than I deserve, I am given more love in the family than anyone else, but I would still want those four years. You see, when it comes to love, I am greedy. I can never get enough. :P

That Queer Shake

12:10 - I am sleeplessly lazing, stretched out across the width of the bed, my back against the wall, cushioned by a rumpled duvet and a pillow, and my feet on a wheeled chair. I'm aimlessly browsing stuff, here and there, listening to Gaalipata songs on Kannada Audio, and randomly scrapping friends on Orkut.

12:20 - Too many tabs opened on a window, I guess, and Explorer has had enough. Without warning, it comes up with an error saying 'Explorer has encountered a serious problem and will close'. And poof, it closes all the sites at once. Though the loss is nothing so important or interesting to be furious at, I find myself cursing the laptop. There is a saying in Kannada which roughly translates to "going and sitting on an ant-hill, when there's nothing better to do". If only it had occurred to me, when I was showing off at Frankfurt airport having connected to public wi-fi without an anti-virus, my laptop would probably not have been in this state. To cut another story short, I had to take it to a HP authorised dealer to have it back in working condition without loss of any data.

12.25 - I shut my laptop down and place it on the chair (the one with the wheels). I visit the bathroom, remove my lenses and come back with my glasses on. With a cursory glance, I take in the general quadrangle of the room. Wash Clothes. Iron Trousers. Make space on the table for the laptop. Unpack completely. (I came back ONLY three weeks ago you see :P). Towel for tomorrow? Check. Ironed shirt? Check. Set alarm on the phone? Check. Removed from silent mode? Check.

12.35 - I switch off the light and jump into the bed. My eyes adjust to a pale orange light streaming in from the sodium vapour lamp outside. I take off my specs and place them above the laptop on the chair (the one with wheels). I look through the skylight into the darkness. It's an odd test I take sometimes - looking into the darkness with my heavily myopic eyes to see how much dark-distance I perceive. Sometimes it gets really interesting. Especially when you look at a luminous object, and then at something else, you see a superimposition of the luminous object over the real object in your line of vision. It is almost as if you can touch the vision with your hand, only it disappears when you outstretch your hand. It may lack an explanation, or may be it is too trivial to deserve one, but sometimes I do it for kicks. In Mysore, I could climb up the stairs and go to my room in pitch-dark "power cut" darkness, and return with Chelpark Black ink for my pen. Blindfolded. You tell me how.

12.40 - I close my eyes and try to sleep. I'm thinking about a dream which I had last week, and remembered to write about. What the dream was, I don't know now. But what I know is that I had remembered the dream then and wanted to get up and make notes lest I forgot about it. Why I didn't get up, nobody knows.

12.55 - I am shaking. It is not the usual shudder which I involuntarily have when there is a sudden cramp or a bad dream. Few seconds later, I realise it's not only me. The dim reflection of the white of the cupboard behind my bed is shaking too. The chair (the one with the wheels) is moving farther and farther away. A few seconds later, everything is still.
Puzzled, I go downstairs to talk to my flat mates who are usually awake till late. Unusually today, they are asleep, and do not respond when called. I walk back to my room and look around. I remember I shook unnaturally. I stretch my legs to feel any tell-tale pain which may have given a cramp. None. I look around, but there are no clues.

Only the chair (the one with wheels), having rolled to the center of the room, stands witness to my first second experience of an earthquake.

News:
Yesterday just before 0100 GMT, an earthquake measuring 5.2 on the Richter Scale, hit the UK. With its epicentre in Lincolnshire, it was the biggest earthquake in the UK in 25 years.

Asides:
1. I now know how people must have felt in Latur. What I experienced for 10 seconds was muffled by 100 miles of solid rock.
2. That Queer Shake is an anagram of The Earth Quakes.

Flashback in the New Year

As New Year says 'Hello', I am glumly reminded of the fact that it has been an year since I have been out of the country. Standing at the London Eye, watching the fireworks last year, I was not very sure that the year ahead would be without breaks at all. I had a faint hope I could go home sometime in between. Alas, it was not to be. But this New Year brings cheer with it, because, by Makara Sankranti, I will be back home for vacation.

The year that passed was a year of new acquisitions. Late as it was, but I did get my hands on the XDA Orbit. Quite common now, but at the same time last year, it was quite a sensation, and a fine sense of ownership would wash over me each time anyone asked to see it. This continued for a period of about six months, from when it started to become common. There was a similar kind of joy with the bluetooth stereo headsets, the high capacity hard-disks and the electronic gadgetry, though the joy this time was shortlived owing to their plummeting prices.

The year that passed was a year at the movies. I have never seen as many movies in one calendar year ever. If there is anything such as a good bargain, then it is the Cineworld Unlimited card. For 11 pounds per month (now 12), getting any number of movies, any number of times, any time of the day and at any theater in the UK is a superlative deal. Especially if the normal cost of a movie ticket is 7 pounds (now 8) for an adult. From watching Nehle Pe Dehla almost alone to seeing people watch Sivaji standing, I have done it all. I have been able to watch much-hyped big banner movies WEEKS before my friends saw it in India. I have seen them a lot cheaper too, if you think about it. If you wanted to watch Chak De India, Aaja Nachle and Om Shanti Om on the first day (as I did), you would probably pay more than what a non-member would pay here (approx. Rs.2000). The card is the first thing I recommend to any colleague who comes from India. So much so, that now, we are a sizeable number and at one point of time, we used to calculate the monthly cost-per-film and try to reduce the ratio the next month by watching more movies. Yeah, we are like this only.

The year that passed was a year of luck. How else would you define having seen from a distance of ten feet, the two most bankable stars of Bollywood - Amitabh Bachchan and Shahrukh Khan. It has been my fortune to be roomies with an FTII alumnus, who has immense hunger for films and their making. He is a member of the British Film Institute and the National Theatre. It directly results in getting passes/tickets to premieres (Chak De India premiere at London), award functions (IIFA at Yorkshire) and film festivals (London Film Festival).

The year that passed was a year of appreciating good food. When you get up early on a weekend (#1 on my 'Will-not-do' list) and travel 75 miles (#2 on my 'Will-not-do' list), just to get some breakfast, you know you miss India very very much. Over the year, I have travelled to London innumerable times, just to eat Idli/Dosa. Nothing else. I have noticed that the curry you make at home is better than the bland stuff which comes when you order from an "Indian" restaurant. I have learnt that my room-mates cook so well, that if I can rake up some money, I can persuade them to shift from IT to catering. I look back with extreme satisfaction that some of the best food I have eaten over the last 12 months was cooked by my own roomies. Back home, my grandmother, my mother and my three aunts all make coffee the same way, yet there is a distinctive taste of each coffee, and I could make out who made which coffee. Now, I have forgotten how filter coffee tastes. Here coffee is either a black hot espresso or a sugarless, milky latte. Being away makes you realise the value of things taken for granted.

The year that passed was a year of travelling. Brussels, Bruges, Ghent in Belgium. Rotterdam, Amsterdam and the famous Keukenhof in the Netherlands. Cardiff, Barry Islands, Swansea and the beaches of Port Eynon in Wales. Glasgow, Fort William, Fort Augustus, Isle of Skye and the Loch Ness in scenic Scotland. And in England - London, the temples at Birmingham and Neasden, Sheffield, Ipswich, the cathedral of Norwich, the beaches at Great Yarmouth and the Isle of Wight, the Roman Baths at Bath and Bristol. It's an utter pity, a shame in fact that I haven't found time to write about them yet. Each of them was an experience in itself and deserves mention.

The year that passed was a year of fun. Of driving on the motorways at 100 miles per hour - as fast as a Shoaib Akhtar delivery. Of experiencing the first snowfall. Of pelting each other with snowballs and making snowmen in the parking lots. Of seeing black ice on the roads. Of taking steam baths in the gym. Of converting a flatland in the park into a cricket patch (not a pitch). Of seeing only five hours of daylight. And then sixteen hours. Of waking up to dull grey mornings and watching out of the window, with a cup of hot tea in one hand and a phone back home in the other. And of the joy of having taken a seven-year young relationship towards its logical milestone.

2008 promises to be fun. Here I come!