Angst In My Pangst

Part 1: Going, going, gone.
So I am back.

( Usually when I , or anyone else says “I’m back”, my first reaction to that is, ” And I am Mozart.” Once upon a joke and all that. )

The wedding went off quite well, and the Evil Relatives dispersed sans complaints ( except for a couple who tried to question my lack of “interest” in things of a mortal nature ). My parents are still in Baroda, still dining on Vegetarian thingamijigs, and I made up for all the deprived lifestyle of last week by gorging on loads of Hyderabadi Chicken soon after landing here.

One thing I should point out is that the community spirit of the Gujarati folk left me amazed. Neighbours, well-wishers, relatives of my brother-in-law’s family made our stay, and the wedding itself, an experience to remember. Enviable coordination and goodwill among the folks – my Evil Relatives ( myself included ) could learn something from all of them. The ladies joined the pre-wedding night Garba without a hint of self-consciousness – the Bride’s family had to be literally dragged to join them. Assamese people are not that good at letting their hair down – we do not have a Sangeet ceremony or the tradition of the Baaraatdancing all the way to the wedding hall. Assamese marriages are dry, solemn occasions – enjoyed mostly by the ladies who find them a nice excuse to get together and bitch about other ladies ( i.e those not within earshot) The guys sit quietly in a corner and try not to stare too much at the ladies mentioned above. B-O-R-I-N-G.

Until, of course, someone announces that food is served, at which two things simultaneously happen. A stampede towards the dining hall. A drying-up of conversation, because everyone is too busy chomping and chewing. And slowly, you realise that the ladies have stopped bitching about other ladies, and are bitching about the food instead.

I would love to tell you that this anti-Assamese blabber is all personal, and that there is something fundamentally wrong with my temper at this point of time because of which I am blabbering my guts out, but no. I insist. Assamese weddings are boring. They are long. And if they are held in the winter, there is a fair chance that the bridegroom will shiver to death.

Part 2: Encomium

It’s a joy to realise this, and it’s very hard to say this without sounding artificial, or forced, or just plain loony.

I am happy. I do not have any complaints with my life at this point of time. I have everything I could ask for, and even though I want more, I do not have any problems waiting for the right time. “The Right Time” – I feel like that wacko in The Matrix Revolutions ( incidentally, I saw the movie again on the IMAX screen just before leaving for Baroda) saying “It’s karma.” Karma, my ass. It’s all about patience, it’s about knowing the right people, and it’s about doing the right thing. Patience, I have learned to cultivate – a little, but that’s enough. I am immodest enough to believe that I have always done the right thing in life. And as for knowing the right people, heh heh, these people should prove my point.

Part 3: A Rush of Blood to the Head

Kim Newman’s Judgement of Tears: Book 3 of the Anno Dracula trilogy was awesome – a neat satire, a great storyline, a very good wrap-up to an engaging three-parter – and of course, the biggest quiz-resource I have come across in recent times.

Star Wars: The New Jedi Order – Vector Prime was kind of an anticlimax because I already knew the ending. Didn’t stop me from enjoying the story, though.

Batman: No Man’s Land volumes 1 thru 5. Finished in 2 nights of end-to-end reading. The trade paperbacks have many unanswered holes, but a well–written series, all the same. Most of it felt like Apocalyptic science fiction – more like an Elseworlds story than a DC Universe story.

How do you get a tired chap to forget sleep, hunger and excretory functions and remain awake until 3:30 AM staring at the computer screen? Simple, you give him the first 16 issues of Y:The Last Man in CBR format. Man. Hollywood can go take a hike, this is how the narrative potential of the comic-book can be used to devastating effect. My salutations, Mr Vaughn and Ms Guerra.

And of course, there was the Gotham comics fix of the month. JLA:Earth 2 which I had read earlier, Ultimate X:Men – return to Weapon X, Spiderman: Legend of the Spider-clan, and the monthly Ultimate Spiderman and Batman issues. Scrounging around at Landmark Chennai got me some 34 assorted comics, including one by Will Eisner called The Power – which made me realise why Eisner is so revered in the comic-book world. The Crossword at Baroda got me some more, highpoints being a copy of V for Vendetta#6 and some old Grimjack and Grendel.

A quick trip to best Book Stall yesterday brought in some good stuff. A hardcover copy of The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich by William Shirer, a book that has a tendency to get lost whenever I buy it. This is the third copy I have bought so far. Four issues of Heavy Metal magazine. A book called Adventures of Lord Iffy Boatrace by Bruce Dickinson, yes, the same guy, which was kept in the children’s section and contained some of the wittiest pornographic writing after Ted Mark. A copy of Walt Kelly’s Pogo – a Dell paperback. Brian Lumley’s Necroscope: The Lost Years. Greg Rucka’s Shooting at Midnight ( Rucka is a crime fiction writer who has written some good Batman storylines, and also some nice crime comics )

I decided not to bring up the fact that Best Book Stall is offering 82 volumes of Leather-Bound, gold-engraved Punch magazines, containing all the issues from 1841 to 1945, and each bearing the seal of the Nizam of Hyderabad’s personal Library, for sale. The price is a princely 60 000 rupees.

I feel like Swamp Thing. A Swamped Thing.