Octowussy

I have been tagged by a Large Lady with an Even Larger Stick. So I acquiesce (which could be the sequel to that Montgomery Clift movie, know which one I mean? Ask Amit). I have hitherto tried to keep this blog free of issues that are entirely personal (travelogues don’t count) and put personal stuff on my other blog. In view of the Large Stick, however, I shall cross-post this (oo-er, that does sound like a Serious Blogger. Next you know, I’ll have figured out how to put up a sticky – no, not fingers, Prof, just a ‘sticky’)

You know, 8 terrible things about me, passing it on to 8 people etc. (It’s also a no-brainer post, ups my frequency) Here goes.

1. I have my own eccentricity about how I climb stairs. No, I won’t tell you what it is.

2. I cannot get through a day without talcum and deo / cologne. Just can’t. Comes of being a Bong, methinks.

3. I’m anal about what I wear to office or to a formal do. Clothes have to be ironed, shoes have to be polished. (Haven’t worn lace-ups for several years now, who wants to bend down if it can be avoided?) And matching socks. Which somebody Already Knows. But that’s about it for my fashion-sense, except that I never ever do the standard fuglies like brown-with-black or casual shirt with formal trousers. The USA was traumatic that way. Folks on campus just didn’t seem to care.

4. When I was about 9, I learnt Kathak for a year or so. At Children’s Little Theatre under the Dhakuria flyover. The basic step was ­­TA-dhin-dhin-na, TA-dhin-dhin-na and the trick was to start the second cycle on the same foot as the 4^th step of the first cycle. All very easy when done slowly, but when it speeded up I’d lose track and just stand there drumming my feet furiously on the floor. At the ‘Annual Function’ I was carefully hidden in the back row. I saw a photo of the performance – a sea of small overweight Bangali brats with their baby fat quivering in quite disgusting fashion. I refused to go from the next week. But the library was nice. Very nice. I remember I was there when an earthquake hit Calcutta and a large bound collection of Life boogied slowly off my table.

5. A lot of people (including international cricketers, to judge from Cricinfo quoting Ryan Sidebottom) collect those miniature toiletries from hotel rooms. I go a step further. I swipe the really small face towels. (Never more than one per visit.) They’re just perfect for when I play squash, or in the car on a hot day when the AC takes a little time to kick in.

6. My very first appearance on the big screen is something I’m yet to live down. Never again shall I do something that can prompt a “Saaar, I saw you in that phillim yesterday (smirk smirk) Bhery good acting you hab done, Saaar (turn away to hide growing grin)”. Gah. I am, however, open to offers of roles as Suave Villain who Quite Undoes Beauteous Heroine (Cath Z-J or Winona Ryder for choice, though Chitrangada Singh would do) ^[1]

7. When I’m really serious about something, I can only communicate in English, as on the rare occasions when I’m well and truly mad. Which can be stupid and totally pointless. I remember being icy-cold and cutting with a sweaty political muscle-man on a station platform. I hope the rage showed through.

8. I can pinpoint the exact day I realised I’d grown old. 31^st December 1996, the lawns of the CC&FC half an hour before midnight. Any number of PYTs in Very Little Dresses, and instead of leching in healthy fashion, my first reaction was ‘Those poor kids will catch their death of cold!’ The bottoms of my trousers rolled, I fear.

Tag eight people? Wouldn’t make a diff, because they’re not likely to drop by here. Consider yourself tagged.

Hope this keeps The Stick off.

^[1] I'm also open to being the Straight Guy who is Quite Undone by the Devious Seductress – preferrably played by Jamie Lee Curtis. Or Mallika Sarabai.

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