Oh God.

Just wondering. Do you pray because you believe or do you pray because you're scared that if you don't, something/someone will punish you (sort of just to prove a point)?

Something like, God: "Haha, so you don't believe I exist? How about this and this and this..."

(Like those movies/books where he-who-didn't-believe finally had god proven to him in really nasty ways? Like being struck by lightening on a bright summer day?)

An Indian in Melbourne

They all sit and discuss what they're working on.

The big man with his big voice and bigger smile was right there outside Melbourne Central, selling The Big Issue. He is standing before a poster of a model in a pair of slimming jeans. The model looks expectant, hoping someone would rip the jeans off. "Too skinny, not that pretty and has no tits," agreed two boys with so many pimples you couldn't make out the rest of their face.

The young couple passes them. The Japanese girl huddled into herself, shielding her chest from the biting wind. Her super legs erupted into pointed goose-bumps as her tiny denim shorts rode up her butt curve. She led her cute boyfriend who couldn't see clearly. His super-shiny, super-straight hair in that shaggy cut kept getting into his eyes. They run and cross the road, laughing, oblivious to the tram driver who looks furious. Love gives a fuck.

The Chinese woman nearly knocked over the magazine stand. It's a slope there and her little trolley was so heavy. Full of groceries for her daughter-in-law who allows her to live with them. She has the garage and she loves it. It's much better than the old age home.

The Indian girl walks by, sashaying in her dark green knee-high boots. She takes the perfect steps, toe before the heel and her butt moves seductively. There's so much make-up, it's almost like camouflage. Some Indian boys distributing pamphlets stop her, extending their hands to hand her one. She refuses and the vigorous shake of her head spoils her choreography. Her heel gets stuck in a pavement crack, she stumbles. "I am from Maldives, not interested," she says as they ask her if she needs help.

The Pakistani girl, all beautiful skin and lovely eyes and lovelier hair rages about the inequity of the legal system. Of how she needs to go back. On how she needs to change things. Her partner, chain smoking the fifth cigarette, advises her not to get killed. She declares she is not stupid.

The other Indian girl watches, realising that if she breathes she won't be able to pull her tummy in. Cursing that the wind will make her hair look all dry. Wondering if any story, particularly her story, matters to anyone. Then she spots a sign that smiles, "Hot hash browns", it says. She thanks god that food loves her and tries a chocolate she's never eaten before.

They all sit and discuss what they're working on. She says she wants to write about women's issues and equality. Another rolls her eyes and says, "We have voting rights and can wear what we want to. Feminism is so boring."

Now and then....

Found this picture -- a forward -- lurking in the archives of my inbox.

Did they know their lives would change so drastically?

Richard Bach writes in Illusions, "Don't turn away from possible futures before you're certain you don't have anything to learn from them. You're always free to change your mind and choose a different future, or a different past."

Really? Can we choose a different past?

PS: That's the former Prime Minister of India, the late Rajiv Gandhi (assassinated) and wife Sonia Gandhi, who's now the president of theNational Congress Party in India. She is also the chairperson of the currently ruling coalition government. A pretty girl, a pretty dress, a still-clean city. Today, the most powerful woman in India. Can she change her past...or her future?

Gotta grind

Thank-you all for the birthday wishes...here as well as those on Facebook. It's bloody awesome.

I'm gonna be somewhat silent for the next week or so. I'll try for some words/lines, though it's going to be tough.

I have 8 assignments lined up for May 13th... Small mercy though that they weren't yesterday.

1. book proposal
2. Seminar on online publishing
3. Seminar on epistolary novels
4. Seminar on subplots and theories
5. First draft on 3000 words of the book
6. Seminar on development of the book
7. fiction story on magic realism (bloody tough)
8. Novel analysis report

And I used to think that writers just sit in the garden, wear dirty clothes and let their imagination do the job. Not. (scowl)

PS: But I totally, completely love it. Very different from the undergrad Bachelor in journalism style of teaching where we 'read' from books and memorised stuff. Am off...so much to do. Need to start planning better. Thankyou, again. :)

Up in smoke?

So today is Day 3 of no cigarettes. I think I am doing really well since I've gone without the nicotine patches as well. You are supposed to wear a fresh patch every 24 hours, but after the first patch on Thursday evening, I haven't worn any.

I will admit to fantasizing about cigarettes now and then, especially after meals. Last night for instance, after a really good meal of pork, baked potatoes, cabbage-with-bacon and baked pumpkin; all with a glass of beautiful red wine, I really wanted a cigarette.

But I didn't have any and started knitting instead. This is my first, proper knitting project. The last and only time I've knit was when I was 14... it was a scarf that was eventually completed by mom. This time it's a jumper for Partner. He has promised that even if it is yucky and cannot be worn out, he will wear it at home. I am happy. I've completed the back and will attack knit the front, arms and the neck.

I have no bloody clue how to knit the neck -- remember my mom using four knitting needles and it looking very technical -- but I'll figure out something. Partner's mom was very amused that I was not using a 'pattern' -- a book to tell me when I have to pick/drop stitches. I was very amused because I was doing it the old-fashioned Indian way: Make Partner stand with arms stretched out and measure it against him. :)

Have a nice Sunday (or whatever day it is, wherever you are)
How nicotine patches help quit smoking: Here

Hogwash.

Just one of those days you know. Or one of those two days you know. Brain is telling something, something is telling to brain. Everything is nothing and nothing is not in the sane. Maketh sense?
PS: All errors in this post have no relation to any one living or dead. This post does not like too many relations. Blurgh

Where are you?

"Either you are thinking about what happened in the past or worrying about what will happen in the future. You forget to consider the present. That's the only trouble with you."

That's what Partner said to me two days back... Hate it though I may, he is right.

I don't regret my past, but I do think if I could have taken some decisions differently, done things another way. Perhaps the biggest past factor with me is thinking about people. I don't exactly nurse a grudge, but I find it hard to forget. I might think I have forgiven, but then at unexpected moments I realise I don't know how to forgive. It all comes back.

The future thrills me and scares me to death. I fear losing what I have, but even more than that, I fear that I might stop appreciating what I have. I've run from jobs, relationships, people... What if I do it again? Partner calls it my "second guessing streak". He says I think negative thoughts and either worry myself trying to prevent it or worse, get fatalistic and make it happen.

I can perhaps stop thinking about the past. But the future...? It confuses me, when people say "live in the present, don't think about the future". Will not our actions today affect our tomorrow?

Do you live in the past, present or the future? Try this quiz as well.

Pic = ScienceBlogs

Lazy Saturday

Nice Saturday in Melbourne, a cloud cover that might not bring rain, but not too cold. Partner is out to get a washer for the BBQ and chlorine for the spa. I will soon be heading out for body servicing at the salon. Here, they don't 'thread' the brows but use wax instead, so I am in for some pain. My face will also look multishaded as there will be three clear strips of red skin amongst all the brown.


View Larger Map
Then we are headed to the Flemington Racecourse, there's some race on and we shall try our luck at winning some. Since my first trip to the races, I've managed to win three trifectas. A trifecta is when you bet on the three horses you think will come in the 1st-3rd positions. Since December 2008 -- my first bet -- my total winnings amount to $ 1910 AUD. Over the Easter weekend, Partner won another trifecta, I didn't go.

Billy is sitting on my lap as I type. He is an intelligent kitty and has realised in two days that the moment Mamma showers and wears shoes that make noise, it means she is about to leave him alone in the house. Billy thinks by sitting on me and not letting me go, he will not be left alone. Cute, devious little kitty.

Last night Billy puked, his light-lactose solution was too heavy. After that he refused to move and looked wilted. I nearly died. I hate it, HATE it, when pets get sick. They just look so helpless. This morning he's been fine though. The evidence was when he jumped on the bed -- yes, he's figured how to -- then got tangled in my hair, which he thinks is his enemy, and bit my ear. Of course it was NOT a nice way to be woken up, but if it means Billy's all right; I shall live with it.

What is it about little animals that hooks us in a mere seven days?

A beautiful day

Today's a beautiful Sunday. The sun is bright and warm, there's no crazy wind, the birds are happily twittering in the branches and there's a single, white butterfly fluttering around in my backyard 'garden'.

Partner is out for a round of nine holes. Since we cycled almost 50 km yesterday -- went down to Collingwood Farms and Yarra Bend boat club -- my legs refused anymore exercise today. So while he is out playing golf, I am sitting and transferring my notes to the computer.

While I would have loved to go to the last day of the 2009 Formula 1 Australian Grand Prix; the cheapest tickets are $ 100 AUD. Given that I don't follow F1 and will not be allowed to sit in or even touch the cars -- should be allowed if the tickets are that expensive, no? -- I am going to sit in my backyard and keep my money.

The day ahead includes some much needed body servicing by way of olive oil on the head and body, maybe some face pack and some under-sheet snoozing in the sun. Since Partner has announced 'arranging' lunch, I am not cooking. I would really like a back massage and maybe I can bribe him into giving me one.

That apart, I'm reading Robin Cook's Sphinx; not really into Cook or medical thrillers, but found the book languishing on my book shelf. Since now my bookshelf is our bookshelf; it's a happy discovery when I find something amongst Partner's books that I have not read. That's not to say that I've read everything, but simply that I discover something amongst his book that I want to read.

My books are primarily fiction -- crime, fantasy, science fiction, period romance, Booker winners etc -- while most of Partner's are either military history, 'futures' trading or on grain. Unless a biography or history is written like a story, I really cannot be bothered reading those. As for trading and markets, I've said before that numbers make me dyslexic. Last month, while I ordered the DVDs for British comedy Green Wing from Amazon, Partner ordered Merchants of Grain and Rats in the Grain (rolls eyes). Shrug. Guess opposites attract. However, now I think I need a bigger book shelf in the toilet, because that's where I have made a 'library' for Partner. (wink)

Anyway, I shall get back to typing out the plot etc before the Net hooks me again. I do love a nice, chilled out Sunday. Have a good one y'all.

Men on breasts...

According to a stand-up comedian,

"Men and breasts; it's like Pepsi or Coke. Men have their preferences, but when forced to choose, anything will do!"

Hrmph. I'm typing this from class, on a swanky Mac -- bloody cool it -- and am currently hiding behind the monitor -- as big as me -- and typing.

The professor is about to give out assignments - ARGH - I got to write a fiction short-story on magic realism. I SO wanted fantasy. Tricked.

Ok. Gotta go, professor's coming....

POST-CLASS: 7.36 pm

Sigh. Back from class and somewhat tired. However, good feedback on book plot from class and professor. Hmmm.

A Mail Today -- newspaper brought out by the India Today group for those who don't know -- spoke to some women bloggers (me included) and the story/feature was published today.

I don't have too many comments on the article, but it is kind of pissing off that they should miss out on the bloody blog's name. When they have mentioned every other blog's name.

To Mail Today: I am really not interested in pimping my face in your paper, but I would like my blog mentioned. Not very professional.

Physically tired, mentally fired!

It's been half an hour since I came back from uni and boy! Am I fired up?!

I am also feeling extremely drained -- owing to classes and yesterday's mega cooking session -- however, I love it. No matter how tired, I really enjoy the sense of well-earned fatigued. It's been a while I've felt this envigorated and am thoroughly enjoying the sensation.

A productive day in all. Will write tomorrow as currently I am itching to get back to my little notebook and scribble away in it. Hopefully, someday, we shall discuss what's written in it...

Till then, see y'all and have a bloody good evening.

PS: Also, after a long while -- ever since I have been here -- I have plans of my own. As in, in coming days/weeks, I'll be meeting people who want to meet me because of 'me' and not because I'm someone's girlfriend. Since my career/job had been my identity for so long, it does get difficult sometimes not having a job...Or not knowing what to say when someone asks, "What do you do?" It was also irritating me to say, "I was a journalist". I am finding my way, slowly, but I'll get there. Am feeling positive. Unusual. Ta!

Little fatty...

I am fat. Checked my weight and I'm now 49.3 kgs. In November 2007, was 37 kgs. Not good. Sigh. Problem being the happier I am, the more I eat. I am happy and it's showing. Most of the weight rests between the neck and the belly button. Not bad but cannot afford anymore weight. The pic's from this weekend, we were at a wedding.

Friends over for dinner tonight. Menu for the evening:
Kebabs (for snacks) might team them with salami and cheese
Garden salad
Daal
Beans-carrots-potato subzi
Butter chicken
Rice
Chocolate butter cake with icecream for dessert (off the shelves both)

Current status:
1. Cashews made into paste (already ate half of them and did the rest first before I have to make another trip to the supermarket)
2. Will marinate chicken and keep it in the fridge to sit for a while
3. Then will put up mince to steam
4. Along with the daal on another stove.

Might put the recipes up, one at a time. Don't know yet, it's quite bleak and cold today and the light outside is not good. Why does that matter? Because I shoot my pictures in my backyard in natural light. I have no job, I am poor and thereby cannot afford lights.

Very happy cooking, Partner not too happy since he insists that the time I spend cooking should be spent writing. Not blog, but the book. Also got to finish 1200 word uni assignment. Damn. Should not forget that.

Am off; might update later...

PS: Ah, by the way, those in Delhi, Chennai and Hyderabad; there's a Spanish Film Festival on from 16-26th March. Check this out for more details.

Addiction

"Solitude could become an addiction; a canker of the soul, ever hungered for as much as it was loathed..."

(Elspeth Gordie, pg 93, in Ashling, Obernewtyn Chronicles, Book 3 by Isobelle Carmody)

PS: "...And, in spite of all the years of longing for friends, now that I had them, part of me yearned to be myself again." (Same as above)

The Wait...

It's surprising that Linda Goodman and every other 'astrologer' worth their salt seem to insist that Taurean women have a LOT of patience. I say they are absolutely bloody wrong. According to Goodman and gang, I should be Venus' own child. Venus, by the way, is the ruling planet for Taurus. Again, according to numerology, 6 is supposed to be Venus' favourite number. That should make me doubly influenced by Venus... May 6th being my DOB.

However, patience is singularly lacking if you were to list my characteristics. Apparently, Taurean women are also supposed to have a 'serene' disposition. Snort. Currently the lack of both these laudable traits are NOT helping. I am going to sue Goodman and gang for dissemination of wrong information. I HATE waiting. Yet I have to...

For May 26th, for the release of Infinity Gate (DarkGlass Mountain Book 3) by Sara Douglass.
For July 17th, for the release of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, movie number six.
For September (or worse, March 2010) for the release of The Sending (The Obernewtyn Chronicles, Book 6) by Isobelle Carmody
For Lord-knows-when for the release of the yet-unnamed book four in The Inheritance series by Christopher Paolini...

And between horcruxes, the Sentinel project, Sapphira the dragon and pyramid-turned-man-
The-One, I am going nuts. Between Crookshanks and Maruman, I REALLY want a cat too.

Ugh. Might start on Bryce Courtenay's Australian trilogy. I have Solomon's Song, need to buy Potato Factory and Tommo&Hawk... Siiiiiigh. At least that story is over. Recently read his Sylvia and completely loved it. Do read it...
Irritated.

Is f*****g drunk....

...and will probably regret this tomorrow. But then, what's life without some regrets, eh? I have been so controlled, so fucking politically correct, so "good girl" that it giving me a solid case of identity crisis.

I am not used to keeping my mouth shut...or having conversations inside my head, which is pretty much what I have been doing.

Ican be SUCH an arsehole. People who matter,I ignore and others.... well, I behave like one of those silly dogs that will wag their tail and be friendly with everyone. the hungry for affection sorts.

Once, when passing through this colony -- my regular route -- I saw this pomeranian that was tied to the balcony railing with a rope. Not much area to move, not much to do anything. That bloody dog used to bark --- that irritating pomeranian bark -- at everyone. I used to think that dog was really nasty. Then one day -- and on more days frequently -- I saw the dog's owner belt it. Really belt it. The dog wouldn't yowl, it would just whimper while the belt -- and sometimes a slipper or a boot -- made its fur come out in tufts.

At other times, I saw the same owner really hug and pet the dog. The dog would have its tail between its legs while his master stroked him. The dog was always expecting another beating. Even when his master was cooing to him.

Sometimes, I hate feeling like that pomeranian. Some of us, you know, it's better for some of us to realise that we are meant to be pomeranians. Not labradors that are supposed to be the most people-friendly dogs. I think I am a pomeranian.

Did I ever tell you that at one point in my history I had 14 dogs in my house? Majority pomeranians. Hah. Should have known then, but what to do? I was a mere 6-yeard-old then... Papa was posted in Agra then. On Prithviraj road.
The street was known for robberies. The burglars thought that people who had dogs were rich...they were using dogs to protect their riches.

haha. My mother had me and a new born baby...and a plaster on her right leg. Osteomalitis. Her bone marrow dried on the right leg shin, that piece of bone was removed. Poor Ma. And 14 dogs to look after... Papa didn't help. Someday I shall ask him about it...

Now....my parents have NOT told me about uit.....but Ma has heart problems. My bro told me...my parents think i dont know... hah. They always try to 'protect' me... whatn good has it done Ma-Pa? when did you eever succeed in that???

So now they are waiting for further ECG tests...all the while assuring me that everyything is all right. Oh. I am NOT a fucking child. Thankfully, Papa knows that I use "fuck" a lot.

Haha. He was quite disappointed when he had discovered my new, improved vocabulary.

Ok Never mind. it's now getting progferssively harder to speell. so ishall desist.

we shall end with quote of the day: "If you leave your dog for a man, it nwill always come back to bite you."

cheers....

Just like that.

<-- Ideal day: baking gingerbread men and assorted cookies. They happily contribute to me piling the pounds as Partner is not too fond of sweets. I am eating too many, faaaar too many sweet things. It starts with two-and-a-half-teaspoons sugar in my coffee. In winter was drinking at least four cuppas a day...you do the math. AND to think diabetes is in my blood. Hmmm.


A perfect Sunday: at Torquay, riding down to the beach. We bought bicycles and have been riding around a bit. Melbourne has an interesting cycling culture and no, unlike India, where usually the 'underpriviledged' cycle to work etc, here it's a fitness thing. Most roads and localities have well-paved bicycle tracks and everyone rides with helmets. Implementing something like this in Delhi would SO help with the pollution. Two weeks back, cycled 30 kilometres from home to the St. Kilda beach and back. Have NOT exercised my legs that much in recent history! Felt bloody good. Yes, the guy with the book is Partner.

<--- An evening out: watching the Black Keys perform at the Palais theatre. Audi acoustics sucked, the Keys were bloody great. Melbourne is something of a music capital here and has frequent gigs by biggies. This was my first one with established artistes and saw Gomez and Black Keys perform. Missed out on Prodigy who performed for the Big Day Out music fest. There WILL be a next time...

Recent shopping: during a random drive, a garden gnome from a Heidelberg nursery and 'sticky' frogs; and a cactus pot that says, "I'm a prick." --->

<--- Recent excitement: watching potted green capsicum turn red in my 'garden'. And very soon, I swear I shall murder. Mynahs from India -- the birds we see and go two-for-joy etc -- are killing my saplings. Hate the shits.

Motherhood: growing my first cherry tomatoes!!! Woohoo! (can you see them? li'l green things) -->

<--- Melbourne: looks golden and majestic when the sun sets...this is a noon shot. Despite the fact that Victoria (the state Melbourne's in) is having something of a freak summer, i.e. it's cold instead of a blistering 40-plus; I am enjoying my time here.

That apart, I'm quite excited about Barak Obama signing in as the US president and would be up bright and early -- 6.30 am Australia time -- to watch him being sworn in. I have never had great faith (or any at all) in politicians but Obama... he inspires. And he makes me think: Will we ever have anyone remotely like him in India? Recently, read an interesting news bit on Ibnlive.com that corporate India -- Mittal and Ambani -- find Narendra Modi as the most viable candidate for PM. At least it's not Mayawati. Yet, I don't if that's something to rejoice about.

Politics aside and on the personal front, all girls I know from my school days have a baby. Or are pregnant. Or are planning babies. Or are getting married and will soon plan babies. All I know is I turn 30 in May. Sigh. Met up with Partner's cousin-wife-and-two-kids yesterday. Such gorgeous little girls! Had a brilliant hour playing with the girls in the park, catching them as they slithered down slides and didn't complain about the heat as I pushed 4-year-old Bridget on the swing. A very simple thing, but it's just a very happy feeling as you push a kid on the swing and the kid turns her head around, looks at you and gives you a grin of sheer pleasure. SIGH.


Attended a wedding on Saturday (17 Jan) and had a hard time not bawling as the bride and groom took their vows. When you see tv serials and movies that are based more and more on adultery, threesomes, single life and divorces... It's heartening to have people still want to commit to each other. I will have to invest in a waterproof mascara as there are three more weddings in the near future and I don't want to make an idiot of myself crying there.


AND. Grrrr. Went for a facial after six months -- in Delhi it was once a month -- and the bloody salon woman suggested I use anti-wrinkle, anti-ageing under-eye cream. :( Not to mention that sales girls in lingerie stores now suggest holding-up bras and waist-clinchers for "maturing" women. It's a cruel world I tell you...


Have a writers' workshop -- uni mates -- this afternoon but haven't written anything worthwhile to show them. Hopefully though, they should inspire me...
What's up with everyone else?

18 again with more wrinkles

2050
nursing home full of senior citizens
with eyebrow piercings
- from 'Moving Melbourne through art', read on the walls of a Connex train.

I ate so much mango last night that my stomach still hurts. These days, I can best be described as well-fed. If I am not eating, I am reading and sometimes, doing them together. In the last four months, I've gone through four authors and 36 books. Primarily science-fiction-fantasy and yet not the books/authors that would put me in the voracious-reader-list. I have been reading, eating, gardening, cooking and housekeeping too much to write.

Happy new year to all. "Another year gone by." That sentence can be both jubilant and weary. The last year was a bizarre trip for me. At times uncomfortable, at others exhilarating. A whole lot of new things, sorely missing some old ones.

Another year gone by. I turn 30 in May. It's like turning 18 all over again, more wrinkles though. I would be of legal age to officially have skin-firming facials. Or to have missed the bus with respect to what-have-you-done-with-your life. It's also when it bothers me to not have a precise answer to the question.

A new year, the same old me. Or is it? There are changes. For the better and for the worse. I wear bright red nailpolish. I don't mind if my thighs jiggle a bit. I sincerely bless the girls who help wit bra-fittings. I am also far more conscious of my belly. I am (getting) addicted to chocolates. I am truly enjoying cuddling and think I am getting better at... (grin) I am gardening earnestly.

In Delhi, it was buying saplings from nurseries and watching them grow. Now I am also growing from seeds. It's extremely satisfying. Most plants are new to me here and some are really pretty. Like this tiny-leafed succulent variety called stonecrop. Yet I was very happy to discover a 'money plant' (pothos, devil's ivy) in a Bunnings garden section.

While the new is exciting, the familiar is missed. After joking about haldi (turmeric) in all Indian food - from pizza to chowmein - now I am missing the lack of it. Like I realised this Christmas that I wish I had done some things differently. This was my first 'family' Christmas. I wish in the last 10 years living alone in Delhi, I had made more of an effort to spend Diwali or Durga pujo with my parents. In my attempts at proving that I was self-sufficient (didn't need anyone?), I simply isolated myself. Hmm. So we shall fix things.

While I am in Melbourne, if I have to recreate the things I took for granted, I shall. While I wait for Holi, I will learn how to make laddoos and find out about rangoli colours. Along with the other books read, I am also getting into cook books. Mallu (fish) curry with appams, Moroccan lamb with chapatis, moussaka with garlic bread and rice vermicelli with crispy-fried pork in sweet and sour curry have been on menu recently. I am loving it!

Books I have read in the last 60 days:

Sara Douglass (12 books including the Axis and Wayfarer Redemption trilogies, Troy Game four-book series and two of Darkglass Mountain);
Stephen Donaldson (7, Thomas Covenant Ist Trilogy, Thomas Covenant IInd Trilogy and Runes of Time);
Terry Brooks (16, Sword Of Shannara trilogy, Heritage of Shannara four-book series, Word and the Void trilogy, High Druid of Shanna and Genesis of Shanna trilogies) and A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini.

Looking forward to a year of regular posts!
PS: All pics are from my home, quality sucks a bit, it's from the phone.