Big joys for rumlolarum

This came out today and I am smiling. To think that someone sitting so far away (not that it matters) has read me and allowed rumlolarum.com to sit inside their body and mind is a gift I will cherish for a long, long time.

When I began this blog in 2014, I had no idea where it was going. I only knew I had to write. WordPress was on the syllabus of a new course and I had to learn it before I taught it. Odd that students seemed to outgrow it but I never managed to. AM was saying last week that I am the prototype of the first EJP graduate, I agree wholeheartedly.

I did become a graduate in that sense only after I began reading and writing, which through my undergraduate and postgraduate days, I hadn’t learnt how to. Like RP Amudhan once said, ‘It took me 20 years to realise that I could learn’

400

I can’t look back properly. I don’t know what I will find there. Some days, I’m afraid that I will be so ashamed of what I find there, I turn around quickly. But why must an unsure, timid version of you shame you? It’s still a girl – writing, scared, writing anyway, longing to run away, confused, angry, bitter, sad, but mostly in love. And I am not devastated that I am still all these things.

Dawn Powell says, ‘Better not to trust anybody much until you know them; then, not at all’

This helped me discover that if there’s anybody I don’t trust at all, it’s me. Never have and never will. It’s why I find myself in situations where I don’t like what I am saying or doing.

What I think and what I say are not always the same thing, except when I am teaching (and here too I have to try very hard). What I think and what I write are more sisterly even if they are not always twins. Sometimes the writing launches a thought. Often they happen together. But more often than not, the struggle, as always, is to retain the music of the thought in writing which is getting more and more difficult, especially after having noticed it.

I have always been afraid of people who can say what they are thinking clearly with very little reluctance and interruption from their own selves (Lila Lila Lila) With me, it seems as though I am so used to the interruption that even when I am close to a semi-solid articulation of a thought, I anticipate (sometimes even welcome) the interruption so I abandon the thought entirely.

***

I’ve been watching reruns of GG again & thinking how much I want to undo a piece written in 2016 . There’s so much more to say, so much better, so little I am now willing to be satisfied with. But it’s because of my blog that I am unable to feel shame about what I can’t undo now.

Last week, same day, I woke at dawn to write about Dawn Powell (gihaha) I don’t know when the piece will be out but that’s how it’s been with everything I have written over the last few months. I work at and push through pieces which I send off in a hurry, and then don’t see for a long time. I like this. It’s a new way of working and learning distance. All my editors in the past two months have been tough to please, I like this even more.

This is my 400th post and I am happy. (Reading Sheila Heti’s Motherhood has come at a perfect time)

rumlolarum.com is my baby; so much so that even after it became a website 2 years ago, I still won’t call it a website. I built my life here. Anniversaries are the only great thing about time. How else would we acknowledge who we were (are), keep them at eye range, and nod at them occasionally? (Didion)

Happy 400th to me.

In other good news, my Silk Smitha piece was translated to Kannada and you can read it here.

Small joys for Rum Lola Rum

 

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Hello,

So this is my website (haw — never thought I’d say this) but you are now at rumlolarum.com. Bought a damn domain to celebrate 300 posts. It’s a Valentine gift to myself.

I believe I have withdrawal symptoms and worry that I will never be able to write again without the soft pinkish comfort of my older Adelle theme. It must be why I struggled for two days looking for a theme before landing on this one. It’s not as good as my old one but it reminds me of home.

This month has been weirdly good. Meta 2018 will officially be over in a day and I’m already looking forward to the next edition. I am not half as tired as I usually am during Feb but maybe that’s a lesson. If all Metas are like each other, how will I remember the years?

There are more reasons for why this month has been weirdly good. Ever since I interviewed writers Praveen Kumar and Manjunayak, I have been itching to write. Praveen Kumar put my laziness, self-pity, insecurity and everything else to shame when I asked him how he sustains writing. He simply said – Bitkodbaardu. Don’t surrender.

M said that’s how people ride in Bangalore Traffic and I laughed like 600 flower pots breaking on terracotta tiles.

Something changed after that interview. I have been able to wake up at 5:30 since then, to write. And I am surprised by how much I like it. I look forward to it with a delicious anxiety every night before going to sleep —  like I’m getting dressed to meet a new love.

 

 

 

 

I don’t always write though. I go out – watch the sky go from dark blue to light blue to vanilla white. I sneak into the kitchen to make Elaichi chai and then sneak out to crush said Elaichi pods softly because house is still asleep. The Brahmin house next door is up obviously. Their steps and garden already smelling like rain.

Discovering mornings has been the best thing to have happened to me. As David Bowie says it here

Posting an excerpt here from that gorg interview:

What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Reading.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?
Discovering morning.

What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Talent.

What is your greatest regret?
That I never wore bellbottoms.

What is your current state of mind?
Pregnant.

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
Living in fear.

Current mood – A little happy and very yawn.

Current music – Juno

It’s all I am leaving you with today. And, this. Read, smile, love, sleep. Repeat. G’night.

 

Happy New Year to Me

Fab year so far. Got to meet two of my favourite writers.

In Jan, Paro Devi came to college and stayed in the guest house right above the department so every morning, I sat at my desk with a spring in my bum- singing Parodevi is breathing above my desk – now she must be sleeping – now she must be eating.

I got to meet her personally and thank her for all the love she sends through her writing. Here’s a happy picture.

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Blee.

And then Times Lit Fest happened. It’s kakka and I would have never gone. I went only because I was to be on an interview with Sujatha Gidla 🙂

I don’t want to say much here because I’m writing about meeting her. Let me just say that I have never met an author who was just as happy to meet a fan as the fan was to meet her.

You can watch the interview here

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In other news, Meta begins today. So I’ll see you after 400 years 🙂

My 100th

Motes of dust floating happily in sun lit corridors

thinly sliced onions

the smell of ghee and onions frying

baked potatoes and chicken

Thin crust cheese and pepperoni pizza

Rasam with spices drowning inside it

coffee mugs – enough said.

bookshelves with old leather bound books

finding old letters, bills and tickets in borrowed copies of books

the first sip of tea very early in the morning

waking up early and not feeling sleepy

waking up early to find the house really quiet

early morning breeze

the smell of cuticura

the smell of sandalwood incense

coming back to an empty home

watching it rain outside

finding old pencils sharpened at both ends

reading things you wrote as a child

stationery shops

watching a former friend from a distance and not talking to them

old and antique-y coffee shops

London and its small towns as shown in the movies

traveling alone in a train

everybody around you reading quietly or sleeping

hot water baths after getting drenched in cruel rain

making people laugh without intending to

sleeping on warm bedspreads on cold nights and waking up only in the morning

sleeping after a bath in the noon

when menstrual cramps are calming down

reading long letters from lovers

a published post

your 100th published post