Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Well, fancy seeing you here

Yes, I have some cheek showing up here after months and months and imagining i'm welcome.

But wait—we moved to a new house! I took up a new job! Li’l A had surgery! Baby A runs around talking up a storm! We’re in the mad midst of sudden Summer sociality! There’s too much fun to be had on Facebook—I just took a test to see which Hindu goddess I am! There’s been no time!

But I really want to come back here at the end of the day and blab blog, so here’s a start.

the stillness of
photos
their pause
then peace

his hair always
waves welcome
her walk is like laughter,
all over the place

See--even the sun
beams
as though
those two

are the sweet, buttery
heart,
where the universe
should start


_

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Display only--not for consumption

I love to cook, and my favorite fantasy is about competing on Top Chef (I’m not at all that good; this is a fantasy). But I’ve never been successful at baking. I guess because baking is so precise, in measurements of ingredients and time, unlike cooking where I tweak and improvise to my heart’s content.

Still, there must be something of a pastry chef manqué inside me, because every time I change Baby A’s diaper, dusting her bottom with cornstarch makes me feel like I’m giving a cake a final dusting of powdered sugar and when I draw a precise line of diaper cream in her diaper, I feel as though I’m frosting some impossibly dainty patisserie.

_

Saturday, February 07, 2009

KARMA

in this room lit only by far off planets
bleak as a poorly attended meeting
now imagine a poem, and nurture it
while downstairs the vendors cry

downstairs the baby cries and
downstairs the mother cries too
flies sibilate happiness
or staticky radio messages

my body is out on the street
bright as light bulbs, falling
inwards, charred on a log fire
an eternal series, persistent

as the flash of television's reality
chronicling tiny, enduring details
food for the gods though not fit for them
speckled skies, four kinds of dogfights

_

Monday, February 02, 2009

Wait, Wait--don't tell me

So i finally watched Waitress--Adrienne Shelley's posthumously released film about a pregnant, pie-baking waitress. I saw the previews when i was at the cinema to watch The Namesake and wanted to see it but never got around to it because no one would see it with me. I watched it by myself last night; it was free on HBO.

Like Juno--that other movie that seems to have been built around a prosthetic belly--i liked Waitress for the most part, and Keri Russell is radiant, while the guy who played her husband is suitably smarmy and disgusting. But there were too many out of character slips in the screenplay. The protagonist, for instance sneaks in hiply, ironic repartee that seems more in tune with her hip, ironic creator rather than herself. And though i'm a sucker for they-just-can't-help-themselves type passionate encounters, the disaffection and deceit engendered by *two* adulterous spouses seems rather heavy-handed.

And i won't tell you the end in case you've waited to see this film too. But i have to record my disaffection for two overly neat resolutions, such as (don't click if you'd rather not know) this and this, which tie the dangly ends of the film into a big, stylized bow.

Stay tuned. At this rate, i should have a Slumdog review in 2011.

Sunday, February 01, 2009

ANNIVERSARY

in your sweet swallow
a grand chord of operatic importance

in my proud voice
a thrusting interjection of breasts

between worn sheets
a satisfaction of promised seduction

i'd seen it all in my head
two days after we'd met

_

Saturday, January 31, 2009

The 25 things meme

Today's post was easy, lifted straight from my Facebook exercise of yesterday. Try it; it's interesting to see what comes up when you let your mind wander...

1. Culturally, I've always been something of an outsider/diasporan all my life. Even when i was an Indian living in India, i was of the Telegu diaspora in a Tamizh state.

2. I've been engaged twice as many times as i've been married. And i've been married more than once.

3. I used to be terrified of the paranormal. Then one night (which in my melodramatic, adolescent state i no doubt termed "a dark night of my soul") i faced my terrors down in the dark with a stray wolf for company, and some unexpected, nearly drunk college kids in the parking lot at the bottom of the hill.

4. Before anorexia was widely diagnosed in India, i was anorexic for three years out of a sense of exacerbated solidarity with the human condition in general and famine in Africa in particular. I started to put on weight again out of vanity. This is counter to most anorectic case histories and incredibly bathetic.

5. I don't think i really understand that i can control my monetary status. When i have it, i spend it; when i don't have it, i don't. I have been well to do and i have been fairly poor. I cannot imagine being wealthy.

6. My sister is my rock. We share a shorthand of memory and linguistics. And unconditional love.

7. My parents claim that they never find any but their own kids (that's me and my sister) cute, sweet, virtuous, etc. On the contrary, I haven't met a kid i didn't find fascinating.

8. I have memories of my dad helping my mom wax off her underarm hair, but my parents deny this. But i remember the horrible chemical smell.

9. My earliest recurrent dream since i was around three involves me running down a flight of stairs holding in my hand a spindle that grows as it rolls around in my hand. I'm not frightened by this dream, mostly repulsed. I began wondering recently given the phallic nature of the dream symbols if some adult male had exposed himself to me when i was a child.

10. I used to have really thick hair and a maid used to help me wash it twice a week. My husband thinks this is hilariously privileged.

11. My mother told me once that even if God himself told her so, she wouldn't believe that my dad could have an affair. I was so impressed by the trust she had in my dad. Until she added, "He really hates to spend money."

12. My father claims that the most beautiful women he has ever seen are his wife and daughters. He's not right, of course; but he's not fibbing about how he really believes it.

13. I want to be able to raise my kids to be happy, loving, confident people who will make a difference in the world.

14. When i was little, unsolicited soothsayers told me that (a) my son would be as beautiful as the young Lord Murugan [true] (b) that he would change the world. [i hope.] They didn't say anything about my daughter. But i know she's beautiful and hope she changes the world too.

15. I would be happy if my daughter chose to be lesbian. I think that heterosexual unions come with embedded hierarchical differences that are difficult to negotiate and impossible to overcome.

16. I used to be a near omnivore. I've eaten goat's hooves and tongue and i *enjoyed* eating goat's brains (egh!!) as a kid. Now i'm on the road to veganism. (O chocolate, why must you have dairy in it?) (And while we are at it, why is there no good soy cheese?)

17. I worry at any putative (or imaginary) harm that may befall my babies. If i had one superpower, it would be to make it so all the kids in the world were fed, healthy, and happy.

19. I can listen to my parents' stories all day and all night. And i can argue with their politics all day and all night too. When i visit my parents i like to climb into the space between them and listen to stories of their childhood.

20. The level of marital discourse between me and A is infinitely infantile. I cannot imagine either of us living without the other. I can cry thinking about how much *he* would cry if something were to happen to me.

21. I seem to have incredible good fortune in landing awesome mothers-in-law.

22. I went through two or three paperbacks a day as a kid. I read de Sade, Joe Orton, and a lot of Martin Amis when i was thirteen. It was in hardback and my parents didn't investigate. Now, thoroughly grown up, I sometimes still read Enid Blytons.

23. I'm confused by why it is "thoroughfare" and not "through-fare" when clearly it refers to passing through and not to being thorough.

24. Are we there yet?

25. When i yell, "family conference" it usually involves everyone piling into bed to snuggle.

Friday, January 30, 2009

Tweenager

Me to Li'l A while making his breakfast and he's puttering around starting the Suprabhatam, punching out the date on the calendar, and grumping around:
Hey, did you know that today's the day Mahatma Gandhi was shot and assassinated?


Li'l A super mopey from having been refused another snow-related stay-at-home day.
No, but yeah. That's exactly what i needed to hear to make my day all bright and cheery.

_

"Come What May, We're Here to Stay"

Afternoon lectures today at the University of London via colleagues River Baars and Lola Olufemi . River's lecture was about British As...