goldfish

medusa is a  goldfish.
not just because she is fat and round, but because her attention span spans avout three seconds.
not very promising eh?
except when she is reading chick litt that, her concentration knows no bounds.
as a result of a freak boox exhibition and some unexpected money, the books that medusa has been reading for the last week or so are as follows....
the nanny diaries
the sisterhood of the travelling pants
coffe and kung fu
asking for trouble
baggage
the earth, my butt and other big round things.

needless to say, medusa has not gotten any work done for weeks now.
hmm, mabe the next post will be slightly more hopeful.
which reminds medusa, she is trying out email posting,let her see whether that works.

finally!!!!!!!!

medusa managed to reach the "create new post" page of her blog after twenty or such days of coninuous struggle. a round of applause for the tireless warrior that medusa is.
and this is what she found on the first page of a notebook.
hey, i am much better now. you must have also been through these accidental/ sudden + great spurts of energy (this definitely is not my handwriting, maybe, i am not all right after all) during long illnesses. when the illness does not even appear to be a long forgotten shadow of a memory.
but there is a dull throbbing ache on the left hand.
love love me do
do not wallow in self pity
why would anyone sit and watch the dreamers on a day, rather night like this?
a thought just struck me. obviously it struck ME. who else would it strike for crying out loud?
but anyway, no more digressions (but only one- that this pen seems to have dramatically improved with a change in ink)
hey hey my my rock and roll can never die
there's more to the picture than meets the eye.


go understand!!!!!!!!!!!

no blogspot in india, china and pakistan

strange set of countries to have arrived at the same decision regarding the accessibilty of information and anti-terrorist action and the freedom of expression. a secular democratic republic, an islamic country under the rule of a former army official and a communist state that is yet to wither away.
reflection upon the intricate natures of policy makers and the minute workings of power in the civil society of the internet does not reflect favourably on the disparate ideological affiliations that they lay claim to.
enough of hig sounding words. medusa however deems it fit to express her disgust at being denied access tro her and a lot of other people's blogs.
it is a different matter alltogether that she had been busy partying with semi known people and eating home food, and that half the world does not have internet access and that blogs more often than not (not withstanding the present exception of course) are pretentious pieces of shit, the fact remains that no one is forcing anyone to read anything.
therefore, be cool ISP providers of the world, medusa is certain you hold more power than any government directive.

medusa has reached home safe and sound....has caught a cold and a cough and is suspecting the beginning of a breathing trouble.
among other things, her shady heterosexual love interest has been running a fever, so medusa can not meet him also to spend any quality time.
therefore it has been the sole company of the old idiot box....which has nothing of any importance whatsoever.
anyway bye now
medusa does not want to bore anyone with the stories of her boring life.

jobless!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

medusa has finished all her work
so,there isno internet.
no books to read
no films to watch
medusa is sad and bored

medusastoned

medusastoned

internet is back after something like four days....and blogger has allowed medusa to log in after heaven only knows how long.
ideally this should be a joyous occassion, but for the argentina loss last evening.
sigh.
medusa has supported argentina for as long as she can remember, but has never watched them lift the world cup though.
and the way things are going, it doesnt seem like such a thing will happen in medusa's life time.
medusa takes a deep breath and lights a cig while contemplating what to write next.
o yes, more sorrow.
medusa spotted a white hair on her head today .
let us all maintain a moment of silence while medusa mourns the passing away of her youth.
but, all is not lost yet. medusa can still write witty and cynical comments about the world she yearns to enter but can not (oops did medusa confess to something?), and must exist forever as a not so mute spectator.
sigh.
obviously, she is talking of the world of the hip and the happening.....
more later

"brilliant tales of love, infidelity, passion and prejudice"

someday, my dears, this will be the way medusa's blog will be publicised.
everyone will try to take a look at this marvellous creation, but even though internet will be free for all, they will not be able to access medusa's blog, coz the server will be down due to overload.
i have no fucking clue why medusa chose to write the previous two lines.
it might have something to do with medusa's decision from now on to speak about herself in the third person.
after all, she is no less than ceasar is she?
or it might have been the urge to quote the blurb from a collection of stories by maugham, who seems to have taken medusa's fancy yet again.
it might once again, have to do with the fact that medusa woke up at the unearthly hour of eight thirty in the morning and did not know what to do with herslef.
it might, also, have to do with the fact that medusa and serendipiduous came on a telugu tv show, and they talked about same sex love, and were much appreciated.
for all of those who missed it, there will hopefully be more such occassions.
when medusa called up home to tell them about this feat, the mater asked why medusa supports something as unnatural as same sex love?
medusa thought it was prudent to not mention that medusa came across as a lesbian in the show, then all hell would surely have broken loose.
anyway, long live argentina.
the soccer team that is.
and hootie and the blowfish.
and orkut.
and party tonight.

medusastoned

medusastoned




i want to praise you like i should.
j. k. rowling, this one is for you.
and the maker of memoirs of a geisha, you can happily go to hell.
funny thing is that i have no clue as to how is this post going to look. i dont know whether this whole thing will look like a hyperlink, and everyone will start clicking on it in the hopes of reaching something better.
so lets just post and see what it looks like?
among other things, medusa has completed her weekly illness, and is going out to party!!!!!!!!!!!!!

medusastoned

medusastoned


i do not know what enmity blogger.com has with me, but it is becoming increasingly more and more difficult me to access my blog. i mean i can read everything that i have ever written, and everything that everyone else has also written, but that is about it.
sigh!!!!!!
and i like my blog. i mean you do not really need to like it, but i do, and i find life without it pretty empty.
anyway, so what does medusa do to fill up those empty spaces and times? she watches films, films that she can not even understand. so today she watched mega star chiranjeevi's film tagore. obviously three years in telugu land has not taught medusa much of the language, so she had to guess her way through the film, helped by the plot summary at the back of the dvd.
anyway, this film is abut how chiranjeevi forms an anti corruption force, called the acf that kills corrupt government officials, and attains a demi god status n brings abotu social change.
but that is just the brief outline of the film, what you need to see is this nearing 60 man who is playing a larger than life role, whom even the gaze of the camera respects so much that he has mega star status screaming out of every pore of his body, he dances n he fights, he gives soulful lectures and makes you his fan.
i am a chiranjeevi fan and am proud to be so.
among other things, this director seemed to be capable of teaching tarantino a few things in the portrayal of graphic and gruesome violence. bones creaking everywhere and blood spurting. very innovative i must say.
obviously, medusa could not watch most of it......due to reasons known to herself and some of her blog readers.....and her film analysis prof.

medusastoned

medusastoned


i do not know what enmity blogger.com has with me, but it is becoming increasingly more and more difficult me to access my blog. i mean i can read everything that i have ever written, and everything that everyone else has also written, but that is about it.
sigh!!!!!!
and i like my blog. i mean you do not really need to like it, but i do, and i find life without it pretty empty.
anyway, so what does medusa do to fill up those empty spaces and times? she watches films, films that she can not even understand. so today she watched mega star chiranjeevi's film tagore. obviously three years in telugu land has not taught medusa much of the language, so she had to guess her way through the film, helped by the plot summary at the back of the dvd.
anyway, this film is abut how chiranjeevi forms an anti corruption force, called the acf that kills corrupt government officials, and attains a demi god status n brings abotu social change.
but that is just the brief outline of the film, what you need to see is this nearing 60 man who is playing a larger than life role, whom even the gaze of the camera respects so much that he has mega star status screaming out of every pore of his body, he dances n he fights, he gives soulful lectures and makes you his fan.
i am a chiranjeevi fan and am proud to be so.
among other things, this director seemed to be capable of teaching tarantino a few things in the portrayal of graphic and gruesome violence. bones creaking everywhere and blood spurting. very innovative i must say.
obviously, medusa could not watch most of it......due to reasons known to herself and some of her blog readers.....and her film analysis prof.

calling ghb

get in touch with me right now
left messages for u all over the place
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh

Reservations for A Better India

Hyderabad's first Pro-Reservation demonstration on Sunday, May22 at Indira Park. Here are the captures.

A little bit of techno stuff. The file you are downloading is a [.rar] file. Right click the link above and say 'Save link as'. After the file is downloaded you have to extract it and look for a file named 'default.html'. Open that file and you can navigate throught the whole collection.

6 litres of toddy

what more to say
8 hours on the car
a hot hot village
a sweaty but beautiful wedding
nice food
great company
6 litres of toddy
medusa loves her life

Hate joblessness

I can not possibly say this without being hypocritical, but at least my joblessness does not harm/harass anyone else. Guess, however, what happened to my friend tootsie and five other women who had taken part in the sprite meet sania mirza contest that was organized by Times Of India, one of the bigger English language dailies in India.
so one fine morning at around 6:30 tootsie wakes up to a call from an unknown number on her cell phone. It was a man who wanted to congratulate her because she has won the contest.
and how did the man know her name and phone number? Because the numbers that the contestants had given to the newspaper for communication purposes, had dutifully been published along with their names.
and then it started.
there were on an average seven calls every ten minutes, from men who just wanted to congratulate, to men who wanted to make friendship and men who wanted to meet up and men who just wanted to fuck (after all, since your number was on the newspaper, you had no business acting coy about your availability). There were innumerable missed calls, and messages that asked her to call them back, to reply, to become good friend, to be my sweetheart and what not....
incidentally all of the calls were from men, who refused to say anything everytime one of our male friends said hello.
we yelled at them and told them not to call up anymore, threatened them with the police and actually took one of the calls to the nearby police station.
this guy had the galls to say, since something like two hundred people must have called you up already, why wont you talk to me yaar?
there are calls still coming in, from people who claim to be friends with india's biggest film director and actors, who have diamonds worth seventy five million, who are captains in the army and who call up because they have the same initials. When you ask them why do you want to spend money, they would say, don't worry I have enough.
tootsie alone has received something like 250 calls in three days, and 500 missed calls and I don't even know how many messages.
and each and every one of them were men.
the times of India however has so far had nothing to do to redress the situation.

e-xhibitionism?

we have been having a lot of fun with orkut. serendipiduos n UG got to meet GHB, i talked to mizfit and all of us were thrilled to have found close talk. the fool on the hill and solan made guest apppearences....it has been two days /rather two nights filled with much laughter and joy and goofing around.
which reminds me of the serious prejudice i had against blogging and orkuting some time ago. i do not want to make people think that if you read my blog or my orkut profile you necessarily know me. but then i dont one anyone to think that they dont know me either. i mean after all there are many shades to one person right, and those who know me in non-internet life, need not be aware of medusa. and am hoping people who know medusa are happy without the outside me. and then there are the trusted few who have become blog buddies first and then real life friends.
however the way we are capable of going on and on about what is happening in the blog world, makes me often doubt as to what is real and what is not, which is not such a bad thing after all. i mean after being steeped in realist discourses all our lives, it is not a bad thing to take time out and rethink what is this real me that i need to show or to hide.
if in my blog people read what are suppsedly my innermost feelings then why would i be accused if exhibitonism? and even if i am, why is it necessarily a bad thing? after all exhibitionsim n voyeurism are perfectly natural parts of people's lives, and my love from voyeurism is directly attached to my need to gossip.
and gossip, my dears, is a very powerful challenge against patriarchal canons of knowledge.
so there.
have fun.

orkut is a strange strange thing

i mean it is fine that you have this network through which you can keep in touch with people.
and i of all people should not be complaining about it, since right after logging in i found people i had been looking for years.
but then it is also pretty difficult, especially with the growing awareness of computers and suchlike among people of the parental category.
so while my profile in orkut used to say
sexual preferene: bi
smoking: regularly
drinking: regularly

it now says
sexual preference:
smoking:
drinking:

and all that because i found my cousin on line

don't talk just kiss/ let your tongue fool around

there are no definite plans for this post. like there ever are, but it is good to pretend that medusa is this organised superbrain who has detailed plans for whole week's post to come and etc.
anyway, city and hostel are both terribly hot. the heat is tangible, if you move your hands around you, there is a warm humid feeling in the air, as if you are made to touch warm blooded reptile. there are pockets of respite on the road, but to reach them you ahve to mount an excursion that is equivalent to a lazy person's journey to the sahara. medusa's favourite past time these days is to feel the different temperature zones in her room and to manuevar herself so that the exposed parts of the body are in contact with the less warm zones.
anyway, too much of something is not always bad.
so medusa decided to turn the heat on by unleashing angelina on the blog world.
apart from such maundane ramblings, medusa is happy to note that she has finally sat down to study and has started writing as well. what rocks medusa's boats right now is the idea of "masquerade" as proposed by Joan Riviere (that smart psychoanalyst who freud and etc will not sleep with because she was so intellectual....) and then later on developed by many other film theorists. Riviere says that supposedly masculine women , in her world that would be intellectual and successful in a porefessional capacity, tend to overdo the tropes of femininity in order to dispel the threats of patriarchy. for her, this is a strategy for survival.
but later on, masquarade has been looked at as something that by being overdone exposes the made nature of discursive formations such as femininity and therefore is a threat to patriarchy.
yay.

gym gym gym gym

i have been quite ill. had my annual stomach upset and vomiting fits.....the hyd heat is as usual killing!!! so will not indulge in reservation controversies, l>t,hope u dont really mind the wait.
here is something about the only place that seems to make me happy these days.
When the cat's away, the mice will play:
Our paunchy gym owner/instructor was absent yesterday. and we had fun. i used to think that since we do not know telugu (the vernacular in hyd and in AP), the DUDE manages to oppress us, scold us, torment us and never say a kind word to us. it is my hypothesis that he didn't bother to learn niceties in english, realizing that barking oders at unwilling subjects of torture is all that he needs. at times he gives up verbal communication altogether. he smirks, grits his teeth and shows three fingers, implying "i know that you are cheating and have completed only three sets of this extremely gruelling exercise. but you need to do three sets and i am not likely to forget that."
therefore when his highness is away, the thin pretty boys group together in one corner and show off their camera phones to each other. the thinner boys try their hands (or other body parts)at the machines that they have so far been denied access to. the thin pretty girls flutter their eyelashes at the handful of hunks that we have been blessed with, and try to make conversation.
the hunks however put on their usual garb of unconcern and divide their time among heavily breathing in and out: trying to smell their deos as if, and admiring their magnificent muscles.
i try to ignore the mirrors, (very diff since they are everywhere) and pretend that the rolls of fat are actually not there. that i am not that ball of flesh that needs to be toned and done various other unimaginable things to...

of maddening non maladies

first things first. therefore, clarifications. i did not write the poem in the previous post, as dave rightly pointed out, it is a song by abba. thanks for all the compliments, but i am acutely incapable of composing any poem, sad or otherwise.
hell, i am even almost incapable of feeling sad, so sad that you have to express your pain. i don't even hurt much, apart from at times when hurting is fashionable and makes great companion on lonely evenings.
have been reading politically correct bed time stories, but will not quoye any for fear that they will be attributed to me once again. (not that i would greatly mind).
let us talk about class then (that class which i attend because i have a cruch on the instructor, and suspect that she knows as much). one ma first year girl had to make a presenation on something, and since the course was entitled "identity and represntation", she decided to talk about the seven laws of spirituality, from zen to uri gellar...and said that she belives in them becasue all of them have a strong scientifc basis.
she also said that she is against reseravtion on the basis of caste or gender because even though she comes from a backward caste, she has never afced discirmination, and though reservation might be necessary in a pre-post graduate level, at the pg, it is highly unecessary.
it seems funny that this argument came the day after ambedkar's (the father of the indian const. and thought of as the greatest dalit national leader ever) birthday celebrations at the campus. have been hearing anti-reservation arguments for so long that now they cease to anger me, i just laugh and forget about it.
that is not the way i know, and one has to talk about reservation to the unwilling audience, but what i can not figure out that if i, for whom caste did not exist before i came here, can understand the arguments, they why can't people who have been racially, economically and culutrally deprived?
enough for today.
did this make sense though?

One of us is crying
One of us is lying
In her lonely bed
Staring at the ceiling
Wishing she was somewhere else instead
One of us is lonely
One of us is only
Waiting for a call
Sorry for herself, feeling stupid feeling small