good luck beats early rising.

irish proverb, apparently. and while anne enright seems to be doing just fine on the luck front, here are two essays and a short story to help you decide when/ where/ whether to read the gathering.

what’s left of henrietta lacks, and my milk, two essays from the london review of books, circa 2000. and caravan, a tightly wound short from this morning’s guardian.

i wouldn’t skip the story. 

good luck beats early rising.

why shahid kapur should be burning up my phone wires.

1. he’s cute.

2. he’s available.

3. he’s over his nubile-young-thing-from-bollywood-royalty phase. (and, presumably, ready for his gorgeous-if-you-squint-older-woman-with-a-mind one.)

4. he’s in a different city, which is always a great thing for short-term relationships.

5. he’s in the movies, and must have some weakness for a totally unpredictable ending.

6. he’s the first actor i’ve ever done an entire blog post on.

note: at this point, some will reference my deep and abiding love for srk. to those people, let me explain that while i might have leaned out of the car at bandstand and shrieked his name out (in vain) more than once, i have never blogged about him. in fact, the only non-harry-potter actor to have earned a mention before — one measly line — is owen wilson.

7. we could both use the distraction.

see what navratri does to me? i turn into a sucker for saans-bahu propaganda.

i really am so much nicer (also cooler, saner, funnier) when i drink.

why shahid kapur should be burning up my phone wires.

a sort of greatness to your lateness.

from four weddings. and certainly not true of me.

while i am pathologically late — to work, to movies, to flights, to meetings, etc. — there isn’t an ounce of greatness attached.

my friends have learnt to deal with it (where are you? at the signal!). my employers have spared no opportunity to pull me up for it. and my family lives in hope that it will change. 

i, as usual, have a completely different spin on it. i believe i come to things later in life than most. which is why i haven’t done so many things (from a. writing the great indian novel, to z. settling down) yet.

good explanation? well, i certainly think so.

a sort of greatness to your lateness.

warning: serious content ahead.

my dad has alzheimer’s. and while this isn’t a particularly well-kept secret from people who know me, it’s something i’ve consistently refrained from writing/ blogging about. to be honest, even now, i’m not sure i’m going to publish this post.

when my dad was first diagnosed as having alzheimer’s-related dementia, i did my usual search for related resources, both online and off. however, i couldn’t bring myself to read alzheimer’s blogs because they were just too heartbreakingly depressing.

it’s over two years since then, and a lot has happened in that time. most notably, my parents have moved out of the city i grew up in, and to a quiet, green, lovely little colony, occupied mostly by retired people. i moved back to live with them last year. and my dad, slowly, but pretty certainly, has gotten worse.

we now have a companion for him during the day — this will need to be extended to fulltime help in a while, as my mom is already running herself ragged.

the two of us have gotten closer than before, and together, we’re running what feels like a ph.d. course in optimisim. her thesis subject would be a million different ways to say but at least he isn’t getting worse. mine, how to make one single, bright, semi-lucid moment last till the next, while ignoring the time that passes in between.

today, i read a couple of caregiver blogs. knowitalz. tangled neuron. never goodbye. had a dad. really tough, especially the last two.  

many people have said that the worst thing about alzheimer’s is the way it robs you of your identity. my dad has always been a cheerful, wisecracking, endlessly patient man who loves the good life. alzheimer’s has leeched away so much of that.

i believe the only way to keep your head screwed on when dealing with an illness that takes away someone’s memories is to hang on to the ones he’s given you.

warning: serious content ahead.