Girl. City. Confused.

Things I have learnt after two weeks in Bangalore:

• Trying to find your way around a new city can be trying if you have no map, no clue re: the city layout ("Indiranagar? Gandhinagar? Stop confusing me!") and no grasp of the local language (though knowing Hindi helps.)
• The autos here are insane. Either they don't want to go where you want to go, or they want to charge you an exorbitant flat fee for their services ("Meter? What meter?")
• The buses are cheap and fairly frequent, except there's no such thing as a route map at bus stops. So unless you know the bus routes offhand, your best bet is to ask the bus driver, "Majestic?"
• Traffic is abysmal (though this is probably true of all of India's major metros.)
• You will not endear yourself to the locals by going, "You know, x is so much better in Bombay!" - even if it's true. :)
  

More to follow.

Silence at the dinner table is highly underrated.

Now Playing: Agnes Obel - Riverside

"Oh, she eats with her left hand?"

I'm used to getting that question from Indian aunties and uncles, usually in a disapproving voice, so when someone asked my mother that over dinner, I said, "yes, she does" in a tone of voice that most reasonable people might take as a sign to retreat.

"You know how you can fix that?"

"Uncle, I don't want to fix it!"

Mum intervened, "We never felt it was necessary to force her to use her right hand. What's the point, really?"

Uncle still didn't take the hint. "But you know, if you wanted to change, how to do it?"

I looked at Mum. Clearly Uncle was going to have his say, regardless of our feelings. "How?"

"You take a knife - oh don't worry, a very small one will do - and you cut the... what are they called, ligaments? tendons? Well whatever it is, you cut the ones on your left hand, and you'll wind up having to use your right hand by default! Ha!"

We stared.

Thankfully, there was no knife in the vicinity - very small or otherwise - or somebody would've gotten hurt real bad.

"Ma, they broke my hair!"

Now Playing: Ellie Goulding - Lights 

As a rule, curly hair is invariably appreciated more by those who are not burdened with it. 

People often ask me, "Is that your real hair?" "Oh no," I feel like replying, "this is just the result of a perm gone horribly wrong. But no need to worry! I'm suing the hairstylist responsible!"

Personally, I doubt anyone would put up with hair like mine - a higgledy-piggledy mess - unless they had to, or perhaps were paid handsomely to do so. I only put up with it because I'm too lazy to go through the bother of straightening it every other day, but most curly-haired people of my acquaintance have, as it were, crossed the Berlin Wall, leaving me to languish in East Berlin as Stasi agents watch my every move. A few months ago though, I was forcibly dragged into West Germany, not so much kicking and screaming as dazed and confused. 

The facts were these: I was minding my own business and wandering about Scarborough Town Centre, when suddenly I was accosted by a straightener-wielding female. 

"Do you have a minute to spare?" she asked. 

"Um, actually, I'm on my way somewhere - " 

"Not an issue, this will only take a minute! Have a seat, set your bag down here, did you have a nice day shopping?"

"Yes, but - wait, please don't undo my braid - "

At this point, her supervisor steps in, dripping hair gel and confidence, and launches into his patter: "You don't straighten your hair very often, do you? No, of course not. Do you own a straightener? You do? Wait, let me guess, it's probably a ConAir, right? Takes forever to use? Well, the new infrared straightener that my colleague is using on your hair - no, don't get up - is super fast, and won't burn your hair. Don't you get bored of your hair always having the same look? Of course, it's natural for women to want to look their best! And this product makes it so easy! It's only been seven minutes, and my assistant has straightened a good third of your hair! How long would it take to do the same thing with your old straightener? And it doesn't damage your hair. Super-fast and safe to use, and it only costs $200! So what do you think?"

"It's a brilliant job, but as I said, I never straighten my hair and I'm really not looking to buy a hair straightener today."

"Well. If that's what you want. Jane*, give the lady back her scrunchie. You have a nice day, now."

So, I have to make my way home with a chunk of my hair Avril Lavigne straight, and the rest the usual mess, providing, I am sure, ample conversation fodder for any or all of the people I pass on the way: "Oh. My God. Did you see her hair? Did she seriously leave the house with her hair only partially straightened? WHAT is wrong with her?"

I finally get home, wash the curl back into my hair, kick back and let it dry. Back to normal at last! Except... one lock of hair suddenly seems longer than the rest; which, what? I extricate it from the rest, and the reason becomes clear - while the rest of my straightened hair has gone back to ringlet-y curls, this laggard hank of hair is just wavy. 

Huh. Have I not rinsed my hair out right? Alright, I figure it'll be back to normal the next time I wash it - except, it isn't. That stubborn length of hair persists in its delusions of waviness for more than two weeks, during which time I look as though I've cut my hair myself and done a really sloppy job of it too. On the positive side, I've learnt a valuable lesson: NEVER let random vendors come near your hair with heated implements; no good can possibly arise thereof. 

So, as messy as curly hair generally is, I believe I've finally accustomed myself to it; having seen life on the other side of the wall, I'm happy to be back in East Berlin in my little Plattenbau flat, with my curly-wurly, higgledy-piggledy hair.

*not her real name

This Is Not The Sci-Fi You Are Looking For

My father and I were discussing Star Trek. As you do. 

Me: So you have The Original Series, right?
Dad: Right...
Me: And then you have The Next Generation.
Dad: ...
Me: The one with Patrick Stewart?
Dad: Right.
Me: And then you have Deep Space Nine, and then comes Voyager, and THEN you have Enterprise, which is set before TOS, so it's a prequel to all the other shows.
Dad: Then where does that other show fit in?
Me: Which other show?
Dad: You know, that show you used to watch?
Me: (thinking) What Sci-Fi show did I watch that my father knows I watched? He can't mean... (aloud) BATTLESTAR GALACTICA?!
Dad: Oh yeah, that one! Where does that fit in?
Me: They have nothing to do with one another! The two are set in completely different universes!
Dad: But they both have to do with galaxies or something...
Me: ... You are aware Star Trek and Star Wars are completely different too, right?
Dad: Oh, that I know.

I am convinced he thinks that all Sci-Fi that lacks lightsabers is automatically Star Trek.

4000 Kilograms of Awesome

I don't know if it's some sort of ingrained malayalee thing, but I love elephants, which is why these ads make me tear up like a professional onion chopper: