Malvika’s Ramblings

This is too funny. Shifting from India to Canada and writing applications, emails and letters in a tone that suits each country.

Nights crawl and I get depressed. A day wasted. I must sleep now. I could use these hours, not use but enjoy with sketching, graphics or music. But I feel like I was slumping all day. Slumping in a couch and it sank down and down and down. And this night I have again reached the depths of the couch. Depths beyond the couch. An underworld, the real Bottom. I could take a deep breath, grab that escaping oxygen and walk around the room. I cant go out and stand head to chest with black guys in baggy jeans and oversize jackets.

They stand one in front and one at the back and say “Sexy gurrl”. There is something dangerous about this. He says “Whats your problem I’m just saying hello. Why r you like Dont touch me and all”. I never said that but he can sense it. I dont budge. Ego. He may grab my ass or push me back. But I dont give in. Stubborn that I am.

And then he could be right. Whats all this in my head? Cant I be civil to a fella on the street? But I am not answerable to him. I dont have to be nice. Reading my body and defensiveness, he could be my Dr Phil on the street. Sorting out my issues as I stand, waiting to step on the zebra crossing. But I can smell alcohol on his breath. And he is standing too close. And I feel I cant beat him up like I can handle guys in India. Maybe not win in India, but give it a good try. Here I would pound and he could laugh.

I am scared. But like the time the cop at the concert thought I was a guy and was about to lathi-charge me and I just wanted to talk sense and say ‘ Excuse me you cannot do this’, I now say to the guy ‘You are being weird. This is not normal.’ As if he did not know. So he is the brat on road. I cannot be the screechy female. Why not? Its not me. Me is dumb. Thats all that is proven.

Anyway, so I cant go out. I will sometime. Maybe with a cycle to bang right into the front of a swerving car on an empty street and walk home with a bleeding knee and a cycle tire in one hand. But no cycle with me just now. And no enthusiasm to step out. No reason. I dont want to talk to chests just now. I dont want to be called sexy girl in my grey slippers and greasy hair hanging down to my shoulders.

So I slump back in my couch and watch ‘So you think you can dance’. Sexy people. Sexy stuff. Just what I love. Talent, samba, fox trot, hip hop, break. It makes something leap out of my heart. But the rest of me slumps deeper. Rhinestone studded dresses. A curvy exposed back. Swan-like grace. A guy dancing fantastically in a waistcoat and hat. TV show over. OK..Now what?

Here are things you should carry with you if you are going to study abroad

1. Adapter if you are taking your own electronics such as cell phone charger. The sockets differ, from flat to round plug-pins, in different countries

2. Software - esepcially in you are in design and use a big package of photoshop+flash+illustrator

3. Maggi (Unhealthy but..)

4. Stationary and books.
While a text-book costs $5 (Rs 200) max in India, it is $100 in Canada.

5. Hair Oil if you wish. Its possible to get it in Toronto, but with difficulty.

6. Dont take too many clothes. You can buy them in the new country.

I jogged through Deer Park and Rose Garden in Delhi with a fixed route, rest points, old and very active people, a miscreant who jumped on me in a lonely spot, strolling policemen, dry duck ponds, leafy avenues and red gravel moist paths that smelt nice.I remember the shy couples in the thickets. We have all crossed them one time or another. They are shy but eager to achieve something in their relationship on that quiet and private date, away from meddlesome mummies and daddies, disturbed only by joggers who were interested in their tightening musles alone.
The guy is sometimes brave enough to put an arm around the girl. She acquiesces with giggly reluctance.

Here is an illustration by Christian Cailleaux that brings back the memories.