The Thick Plottens

I have so much to say, so much of which I feel I should censor. It’s times like these that I wish I had an anonymous blog. But anyway. I shall revert to the my time-and-tested method of posting a list of all that I have done or thought during my sojourn in Hyderabad.

• I miss Chennai men. I can, in all sincerity, say that Chennai men have a lot more respect for women than their Hyderbadi counterparts, who behave as if they’ve never seen women in their lives. Whether you’re wearing jeans or shrouded in a dupatta-fied salwar kameez, it makes no difference.
• I also do not like small children. This city is overflowing with toddlers and post-toddlers and their oblivious parents. They throw balls at you, stamp on your things, try and steal your wallet and even get behind the cash register and muck up your bills. While the parents giggle to each other. No I’m sorry, I do not think little Shyam Reddy is adorable. He’s a nuisance.
• Having said all that, I like Hyderabad. I like the cultural vibes on the streets, the Tamil music that blares from the autos, the huge malls with super brands and the Charminar bazaar with its chaos and clutter.
• Yet I cannot prefer re or ra to machaan or da, nor can I say paapam instead of paavum. That is just not cool.
• Hyderabad has a distinct smell — a sickly-sweet odour reminiscent of pigeons. Speaking of which, I do not like pigeons. They may even rank above small children. It is easier to deal with a small child than an angered pigeon flapping around your house. Especially when afore-mentioned pigeon drops its blessing onto one’s Osho slippers.
• Cooking is great fun. Dabbas, even more so.
• My apartment building is an important heritage building in Hyderabad. There’s glory for you. Yet another example of a former monument or place of importance which was converted into a residential complex.
• The weather is very misleading. It was hot when we got here and suddenly shifted to a startling cold. In great haste, I invested in a quilt and a nice purple shawl. No sooner had my debit card been swiped that the skies cleared and the sun came out to play. I’m still waiting.
• My Chennai trip was nothing short of perfection. Having already emailed the expected menus to my mother, I ate like a pig and for the first time, took my family out for dinner. Even though it was a constant race between my dad and me to see who could get his or her card to the waiter first.

On the work front,

• About 17 stories and counting, if one includes the joint bylines and smaller stories that we did. Nothing at all compared to those in the mighty city bureau but for a small four-page supplement that carries about two pages of advertisments and one page of Chennai content, cartoons and railway timings — it’s not half bad.
• I don’t care about actresses and their nose jobs. Or Botox jobs. Or Splitsvilla. Or Rakhi’s swayamvar. Or soem random Telugu actress who got divorced and is now taking over thre world without wearing a bikini. Or how more girls sucking on lollipops now than before is a trend. Which means that for an ample part of my day, I feel like I’m in the wrong place.
• I’ve made the right career choice. That’s one thing to constantly be happy about. I don’t feel like I’d be happier doing something else.
• Salary day is exciting! Even though two days later, we’ve halved the entire amount after paying out rent, maintenance and various secondary amounts.
• I like the advice that we got…that even though it may not reflect on our stories, we should still be reading up on the different things we write on, simpkly to educate ourselves if nothing else.
• Stop drawing maps for us on the floor! It’s condescending and annoying. LBT lives!

Title Source: Jerk It Out by The Caesars