when bloggers meet

Do you…. err… have a ….blog?

I wasn’t sure whether to ask that question or not, but I had suspected it from our very first meeting.

His eyes betrayed him. The wild-eyed panic in them, though present only for a fleeting second, told me the answer even before he smiled and hesitantly nodded.

My friend V had introduced me to him. We were gonna watch King Kong (I absolutely ADORE Adrien Brody, his smile is just so chaaarming! Sighhhhhhh! )

But we ended up watching just half the movie. The damn movie was for 3 hours or something and it was already 11:30 pm. Our dads ( us girls' dads, guys have no such problem) would freak if we got back home at 3 am. Parents don’t change no matter how old you get or where you’ve been in your life. Curfew was 11pm. And we were late. So we dragged the poor guy out of the cineplex and were on our way to the parking lot. I was complaining about how horrid it was to just watch half of the movie and V told me “well, at least it’s something for you to blog about right?!” (She knows I have a blog but I haven’t given her my link.)

When she said that, he became silent. He wasn’t talking then, but you can feel it when a person just closes up inside. That’s when I first suspected it. But I didn’t ask him anything about it then. Hell, I had just met the guy.

But this weekend we all went bowling. It was loads of fun! We all went to dinner afterwards to 19th Street Café (lovely place, crap food) and we got talking a lot and I was really curious about whether he was a blogger. So I asked. And he said yes. And then it was like…

OK! ….…. Should I ask him for his link, does he read my blog….. OMG!! What if he DOES read my blog….. naa….never got any comments from readers in Dubai… but maybe he reads it and doesn’t comment… naa, why would he do that… so he does NOT read my blog no? NO???

I didn’t know where to go from there. I was stuck. His was a personal blog too. He reads Opinionista too. Didn't ask about the others. He asked me if I wrote about books in my blog! I wonder which blog he connected me to.

I didn’t go for the blog meet last Friday even though I was tempted to, cos my blog is just too damn personal. I write about most everything in here. This isn’t a general blog. It’s a damn personal one. So I thought it best to not go for the meet. But I kinda ended up meeting a blogger anyway didn’t I?! :o)

And he’s left me awfully curious!!

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Merry Christmas to ALLL!! :o)
Hope you all have happy holidays!

Did someone slip Prozac into my coffee?

All this time I was blaming everyone else for my lack-of-life-in-Dubai-syndrome.
But it isn’t anyone else's fault.
It isn’t cos I’m living with parents. It isn’t that my job is taking up all my time. It isn’t Dubai.
It’s me!

I’m the problem.

And all this time I’ve been trying to escape from everything else, instead of changing what is MY fault. How can I run away from me??

Sure, all the problems I’ve mentioned are real, but they are insignificant.
If only I look at it from a different angle.

I should just stop complaining about stuff like this.

So I've decided!

I've decided that I'm gonna get off my butt and start enjoying life. I mean, there are millions of people all over the world who are trying to come to Dubai.
And right now, this place is booming with oppurtunities!

And I'm right here! And I'm trying to get out!? How crazy is that!
Life is not gonna be easy anywhere. But it's easier in Dubai than in most other places (I kid you not).
There really are so many things I can do here. I can meet people from all over the world! I can go bowling or ice skating or scuba diving or jet skiing or even skiing!

All you really have to do is have a positive attitude. And of course, I need to actually get up and get going! And I'm ready.

I'm ready to live and enjoy the ride, through it's ups AND downs.

Hell, I just might even find that stripper. ;o)

New Year

What My New Year’s resolution should be according to:

My mum: Get married to nice Hindu-mallu-with-caste-horoscope-matching-accomplished-settled-boy that your father and I bring to you.

My Dad: Do what your mother says.

My sister: yeah, get married fast. I’m almost 18. I wanna get married NOW!

Me: Find fabulously wealthy and extremely handsome guy who will fall madly in love with me and then get married to him!
Or more realistically, save enough money and get the hell outta here.

Growing up.

A LOT has happened.

It started with my dreams of course. I kept dreaming that J was ill (J being my first boyfriend). I’ve mentioned all this before of course. I mailed him and later his friend told me he was seeing someone else, I was crushed. I thought he didn’t even bother replying to the mail, he hates me… etc etc.

Well, what happened was, he did reply to the mail.
Except I had blocked him from from my yahoo id! I did this last year, when things were so bad between us that I couldn’t bear to even receive his mails, and he insisted on writing them. I had forgotten that bit.
Funny thing about yahoo is, they deliver mails to the people you’ve blocked. Yahoo also does not tell people that someone has blocked their email id and so the message is not ever gonna be delivered.
So I sent the mail, J received it, was happy reading that I was still concerned about him, wrote back this HUGE mail, which apparently took him an hour to write, and thought that I got the mail but didn’t reply to it.

See how it’s all Yahoo’s fault!?

Aaanyway, I was crushed and devastated and all that. I cudn’t sleep, eat, listen to music … couldn’t do any of the things that made life worth living. I spent a LOT of money ( no more shopping!) on ISD calls to friends, crying and weeping and all that crap.

But I’m alright now and I’m ready to face life again. Thanks to my friends. old and especially the new ones.

I stole this from Inky, it explains things so well i just had to take it!

Jab bhi milti hai mujhe ajnabi lagti kyun hai?
Zindagi roz naye rang badalti kyun hai?

Tum se bichhdey hain to ab kisse milaati hai humein…
Zindagi dekhiye kya rang dikhaati hai humein…

So tomorrow is another day, and I know I’ve behaved in a silly way, but hey! I’m human. And I’m learning to live. Just like everyone else.

Rehab

My friend is getting married.
My only single friend. She’s gonna go too.
Sigh!
And I’m going through rehab to get over my ex-ex. (sounds weird na? Getting over ex-EX!)
BIGger sigh!
So pretty crappy for me all round.

I’m thinking, I should organize a bachelorette party. With stripper and all! ;o)
I’ve never been to one (bachelorette party). But I got inspired by my Bulgarian colleague, whose friend actually hired a real live male-stripper for the party!

I’ve never seen a stripper, male OR female. It should be interesting. Only I don’t know how we can organize this thing. I mean, a stripper can’t exactly be legal in this country!

I’m not really sure if I even wanna see a naked guy prancing about like an idiot. Hmmm. On the other hand, maybe I do. It should be funny, even if it’s not exactly arousing.

Anybody know where to get a male stripper in Dubai??
( Bulgarian colleague left the company,so I can't ask her.)

Thanksgiving

We have left- hand driving here. I’m on my way to work. I’m at the roundabout. 3 lane roundabout and I’m in the inner-most lane. I need to go right. The car on my right wanted to go left. I was almost there, almost reached the right lane. The car hit me from the right. Hit me near the back door. My car tilts from the right, and is on two wheels, at what seems to me (since I’m on the inside) like an impossible angle. I’m thinking it’s going to flip, but miraculously, it falls back and just kinda shudders and ends up hitting the pavement.

Horns blaring, people shouting, it’s all very confusing. I get out. I look to the right and note (in my mind) the number and make of the car passing by thinking that that was the car that hit me ( I don’t remember it anymore other than the fact that it was a silver car). Then I look at the far end of the roundabout and see the car that actually hit me. An old Indian lady is standing outside. Her daughter was the one driving the car.

I’m thinking several things at once. I need to call the office and tell them I’ll be late. I need to call the cops. DO I need to call my dad? Dad’s gonna kill me!

I’m standing outside now, and my car is blocking the road. I look at my car and see it shaking. Weird! Then I realise that it’s still in gear! I run to the car turn it off. Then I realise I was supposed to take it to the side so that the traffic won’t be blocked. So I turn it on again and park it to the side. I’m just sitting there cos I can’t do anything else. I’m just shaking all over. Don’t know why I was shaking cos I wasn’t feeling scared or anything. I fact, I was feeling nothing.

I try to call the office, but I don’t remember the number and I can’t dial anyway cos I’m shaking so bad. I remember that I have my manager’s number stored in the cell, so I call her up and tell her I’ll be late cos of the accident. She’s shocked, “take your time, take care blah blah…”

I walk over to the lady and she asks me if I’ve called the cops. She had already called them but she couldn’t give the directions properly.
I call the cops and they come by in a few minutes.
I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again. Dubai cops are VERY nice. They ask me if I tried calling them just then or did I call before. I tell them I called them just a few minutes ago cos I was talking to my dad (a lie, but they’ll think I’m nuts for calling my office first and not my dad) so they oh ok!
They ask me and the other female what happened.
When we get to the part about my car tilting and almost falling, they say “Oh ok, so that’s why you’re shaking like this! They smile, ask me if I’m ok. Everyone’s thanking God cos nothing more serious happened. The lady and her daughter keeps saying how lucky I am and how God is with me cos the car hadn’t flipped to the side. Both our cars are insured. So that’s not an issue. And by some miracle, nothing is wrong with either my car or her car other than a few scratches. The cops laugh and tell me I should think of becoming a stuntman for the movies! I’m laughing too. Everything’s fine. They give me a red ticket (it was my fault even though they hit me, cos I was on the wrong lane) gave them a green ticket. No fine, no black mark. They tell me to take it easy. They hand me my license and watch me drive off.

I am lucky.

I have friends who care about me enough to call me ISD and listen to me cry and console me. I have blog-friends who care enough to write to me and tell me everything will be ok. I have a blogfriend who calls me up ISD ( thanx again Jithu) to make sure I’m ok.
I have God who keeps reminding me there are bigger things out there than just me and my little problems but He thinks the world of me all the same.

So from the bottom of my heart - Thank you!

I loved him. He loved me. then how come it came to this?
Why did this have to happen?
Why is it that he is able to move on?
Why is it that it tore my heart to a million pieces when I came to know that he is in love, with someone else. Why does my heart have to break all over again, when it hadn’t even really mended the first time?

I was supposed to hate him right?
I was supposed to have gotten over him right?
I was supposed to ignore his existence right?


Then why did I keep dreaming about him?
Why did I feel like I have to write to him, just to make sure he is ok.

He hit me, so I should hate him.
He was a coward steeped in his religious policies, so I should hate him.
I should.
But I don’t.
And here I am, lonely as hell, working in a job I don’t want to do, living a life I don’t want to live.
and I just found out he is in love. With someone else.
He is happy.
He is serious.
He is commited.

And me?
I’m a broken wreck, people think I’ve come out of my “shell” which I’d been hiding in. they think that cos I wrote to him now, I’m completely happy.

Well, I’m NOT.
So fuck you for thinking I was.

You’re in love, so you’re happy.
Fine

But the thing is, my heart’s still broken.

-------------------------

Update ( cos the above thing doesn't make much sense, I wrote it when I just found out):

I’m ashamed I can’t move on.
Cos I’m still stuck in that rut.
Cos he can move on, but I can’t.
Shit, I feel like such a loser.

I dreamt he was sick. Several times. So I thought I should write to him.
So I wrote him a mail. (No, he hasn’t replied yet. I don’t think he will either. Why should he bother.)
Then a friend told me he’s seeing someone else.
I had suspected it, but I never knew.
Now I do. And I feel terrible cos I’m so bothered by it.
I’m not bothered because I love him. I don’t.
I’m bothered because he is able to move on and I can’t. I’m bothered cos he is capable of falling in love and I’m not.
No one loves me.

I was in a relationship too. I started seeing someone as soon as I broke up with him.
You can judge me all you want. I don’t know if what I did was right or not. But I’m terribly hurt right now. So if you’re gonna judge me, please don’t tell me.
Not now. Maybe later.

But the thing is, I was not in love. I was seeing someone else cos I wanted to forget him. It was a rebound thing. I realised it only later though.
But apparently, that doesn’t work.
Apparently, my heart’s still broken.

Where do I go from here? Or am I already there? Is this it?

On another note: It’s funny how you’re heart is supposedly just a pump that has nothing to do with emotion but when you’re sad, the ache’s in your heart. You can feel it. It’s a physical thing. How is that?

Sniff!

I have a terrible terrible cold!

I was up all night crying cos I was watching When Harry Met Sally.

Yeah yeah, I can hear y’all snigger.
Go to hell!

It’s so crappy that I can’t see these movies and believe that that could happen to me too.
Pure fiction. That’s what it is.
Fantastic marketing strategy. That’s what it is.
Cos you feel like watching it again and again cos that’s the only way you’ll ever get the chance to find out what it’s like to love forever. Forever kind of love is only for stupid people who fall in love the first (and last, cos who wud wanna go thru that again?) time, where they actually believe it’s gonna last till “death do us part”.

Then when they break their useless hearts their stupid brains begin to understand that all that was just a freakin lie. No more DDLJ or 50 First Dates or fucking Serendipity.
Na-ah!


I’m gonna die alone.

Sun and LOTS of Sand

I went on a desert safari this weekend!! It was AWESOME!

We started off at 3 pm when the driver picked us up from home. We drove east, all the way to the Dubai-Hatta road (which is almost in Oman). We stopped at this spot where there were 3 small shops. Two were grocery stores and the other one sold souvenirs at outrageous prices to stupid tourists. Of course, the grocery was raking in money cos it had the advantage of being located in the middle of nowhere! My friend was outraged when he was told the price of a Kodak film would be 25 AED (it usually it costs 7 AED!).

We bought ice creams and Pepsi and waited for about half an hour there, waiting for all the vehicles to gather before we went dune bashing. I got tired of all the waiting so went and asked one of the organisers [let’s call him CG, for Cute Guy ;o) ] why we had to wait for everyone else. He told me that dune-bashing is always done in a group, cos we were going into the desert and if anything happened, we could get help.

We finally set off into the desert, and though I’ve lived in this country for the major part of my life, I had never experienced the power of the desert before. I had a newfound respect for those Bedouins who crossed the desert on camels and survived. And for the Arabs who made this country what it is today from what it was. I, had sunscreen to protect my skin, sunglasses to protect my eyes, and was in the climate-controlled environment of a powerful Toyota land cruiser. The Bedouins had nothing but the will to survive. It was just a sport for me, dune- bashing. But for them, the desert was a way of life, one which I can’t even begin to imagine.


I soon realised what CG was talking about when he called this a group activity. We were going up this particularly high hill when our vehicle just slid sideways, sand flying all over, covering us. And there we were, the left side of the vehicle stuck in the all-encompassing sand. And the harder our driver tried to get us out, the deeper we sank into the sand. Everyone stopped. The whole group! Our driver got out and started scooping the sand away from the tyres. Another, more experienced driver got into the cruiser, and two others came up and directed from the outside. A lot of the people in the other vehicles took videos. I couldn’t take pictures. I was too busy hanging from my seatbelt! But I did take pictures of other vehicles stuck in a similar manner, although our land cruiser was stuck in a more dangerous angle.



After dune bashing we were taken to the campsite. We went for camel rides and then when we got back. The campsite was this huge ground which was surrounded by small tents. One of the tents served Arabic coffee and dates. Another tent had Arabic costumes that we could wear and take pictures. There was this lady in one of the tents who was applying henna tattoos, which was really cool! I got one on my leg. :o)

There was a stage at the centre and a lot of low tables around the stage. We had cushions for seats. It was very comfortable. It was a nice cool evening. Everything was just perfect!
The food was delicious! We started off with shawarmas, and then there were barbequed chicken legs, lamb chops, and kebabs with homuz (which is a dip made of chickpeas, really delicious with above mentioned bbqed stuff!) and rice and Arabic bread and chicken curry and lots of other stuff too.

Then there was the belly dancing. Boy! Can she move or what!

I’ve posted a few pictures. But really, it doesn’t do justice! And anyway, I was enjoying myself too much to be bothered about taking pictures!

It was a perfect kind of day! My best Eid ever! :o)

Is there hope?

I usually leave work at 7: 30 pm. I park my car (Joe) in this parking lot behind my building. It’s like a football ground. That’s the only place where there’s free parking in that area. You’ll find a lot of vehicles there from land cruisers and cars to pickups and trucks. It’s not very well lit, and you won’t find a lot of people there at night. So I try to park as close to the road as possible. This is not easy, since everyone wants to park there.

Yesterday when I got to work after lunch, I had to park somewhere in the middle of the ground, in between two trucks. And after work when I got to the parking lot I saw that my car was right in the centre, with the two aforementioned trucks on either side, a land cruiser in front and a pickup behind. How inconsiderate! What the hell was I supposed to do? There was some space to squeeze through by reversing to the right. But it would be difficult. I didn’t have a choice though. And I got into the car, went left, reversed to the right, went left again, reversed … and got stuck. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t see how far back I could go, so I had to keep getting out of the car to look. After 10 minutes, I was so frustrated that I went and kicked the tyres of the stupid pickup! That’s when 3 men walked by. I could tell they were Pakistanis, cos they were wearing the traditional shalwar-khameez. They were truck drivers. They offered to help; I thanked my lucky stars and said YES PLEASE! They took over. One of them got into the car and another helped him from the outside, telling him how far to turn, when to stop etc. They freed Joe. I was so thankful! They just smiled and left.

Having had the advantage of living in a multi cultural environment, I know that it is the people that matter, not their country or religion. I drove home thinking about how kind those men were, how I had trusted them to help me, how they could have harmed me but didn’t. I drove home thinking about how India was sending across aid to Pakistan to help the earthquake victims, and how good it was that the situation between the two countries was improving. Cos it was all just politics anyway, people and their attitudes never changed. I’ve had Pakistani teachers and friends. And they never hated me for being Indian. And now these kind drivers. I drove home happy, thinking that there was hope for humanity after all. When I got home I saw the news. Bomb blast in Delhi, Pakistani terrorists suspected. If that was true, all aid to Pakistan would stop.

Why do they ruin it for everyone else?

Wanted: A Life!

I’ve had it!
The routine is killing me!

Workhomeworkhomeworkho.. AAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGHH!

And I have to do this FOUR times everyday (I work spilt shifts)! That’s 8.5 x4 miles everyday! Minimum! I drive fffast, but where am I going anyway? I’m like a yo-yo. No purpose. No aim. I just keep going back and forth and back again.

During the weekends, the options are malls and movies. But really, I’m sick of them! I don’t wanna shop all the time (I can’t afford it!) and I saw No Entry and I’m still recovering from the massive headache I got for suffering through that stupid movie. I can’t imagine why it’s a hit! I don’t think I’ll ever go to the Cineplex again! Ok, I take that back. I think Pyar Mein Twist is probably good!

I wanna go someplace. Go for long drives to Fujairah where they have mountains and beaches and date farms. See something new. Talk to people about stuff other than hardware and software. Meet people.

But I can’t obviously. Cos of the pbvious reason: parents. They don’t wanna go to Fujairah (takes too long), and they won’t let me go alone (too dangerous).

I NEED TO GET A LIFE GODAMMIT!

Ever been in a fight?
I don’t mean those fights in the ring with gloves and rules and a referee.
Not the kind where there’s so much control.
Not the kind where you just lose or win.

But a real fight, with no rules to stop you from getting killed, or killing. The kind of fight where you’re fighting for your life.

You’re senses are heightened to such a level that it makes you feel like everything has slowed down, so that you can get every detail in. Anything might help you survive.
Even the fight itself slows down. Every punch, every scratch, is detailed.

You don’t really start to feel pain. Not yet. Not till the fight’s over. You just keep hitting.
Till it’s over.
Till somebody stops you. Or you stop.

And then, if you’re still alive, you start to feel other things.
You’re heart refuses to slow down for the next 10 minutes. It’s been thumping like hell all the while, but you just didn’t realise, cos the body was too busy focusing on other, more important things. And then, when the adrenaline finally subsides, you start to feel the pain.
You remember that you had hit your head on the wall, which explains the bump on the head. You touch it gingerly. And pain shoots down your neck to your shoulder and hand is all tingly. You slowly start to feel all the cuts and bruises.
You lie there for the longest time thinking about it.
Wondering if was worth it.

So, ever been in a fight?

Will I ever learn?

Do I care ?
I mean do I really?
Really really?
No, I don’t. I don’t care at all.
Then why bother.
Mebbe I do care, a bit.

Oh fuck!

I care.

Again!

Ramadan

Having lived in Dubai most of my life, I don’t really find it weird that everything almost stops working during the holy month of Ramadan. But for people who are new to the country, I guess it is kinda amazing. My manager (a Brit who has been in the country for about 6 months now) was shocked!
"All businesses close early for a whole month??!"
"Yes!"
“Restaurants?!”
“ Closed during the day, yes!
“And you’re not supposed to eat outside until…what’s it called? ”
“Iftar? You’re requested not to, yeah.”

It’s no big deal really. I love Ramadan! So the restaurants are closed during the day. So what? You can still buy food from any of the hyper-marts and eat at home if you don’t wanna cook. And they really aren’t as strict as in Saudi Arabia or anything. Cos here, nobody forces you to fast. If you do, well and good. If you don’t, that’s ok too. Islam is not like the terrorists make it seem. Ramadan is the month of tolerance, charity and understanding.
This Arab client came to the office and I wasn’t sure whether to offer him something to drink or not, so I asked him if he was fasting, he said yes, but he also said if I wanted to have anything, he’s ok with that. I didn’t even drink a glass of water till he left. That’s what Islam is really about! All religions say the same things anyway. I feel they just have different practices cos of geographical differences.

Anyway, back to Ramadan. Work timings are cut to a minimum. Which is great! My dad works for the govt and his timings are from 8: 00 am to 2: 00 pm! School timings are cut short too. I remember when I was in school, each class lasted hardly 20 mins!

The best part of the day is Iftar of course! Even if you’re not fasting! *grin*
The food is awesome. Dunno the names of the food, but what does it matter, it’s all delicious! Of course, if you’re fasting, you can’t really start eating everything all at once.
My sister was invited for an Iftar party. She told me everything about it. The traditional way is to start with dates and sherbet. More fruits follow – apples, grapes, pomegranates etc. Then you go onto bigger things like samosas, cutlets, puffs, strudels, pies and loads of other stuff. This is then followed by dinner which can be biryani or harees and other traditional dishes. She came back from the party with food coming outta her ears! Why the hell don’t I have more Muslim friends?? Oh right! I don’t have any friends! (Not in this country anyway) Going out is like torture now. My conscience keeps shouting dire warnings about my ever-expanding waistline, while I’m assaulted from all directions by traditional Iftar food just waiting to be picked up and devoured by my greedy self.Groan!

Can’t. Say. No.

And then there’s Eid!

Sigh! I guess I’ll just have to exercise.

Ramadan Kareem!

I'm not sure if I should post this or not. I wrote this when I just woke up and was groggy with sleep and still feeling a bit scared. It's a bit tedious. And quite possibly boring.
You have been warned!


It’s 5: 07 am by my pc clock. My arms are still aching from the pain of having curled into a fetal position for so long. I had the weirdest dream and I’m putting it down here so that I can remember it.
I’m putting a * to some bits that are not a part of my dream, but can make you understand the people and my relationship with them better. All names have been changed except for Rahul.


My Dream:

It’s the day before my graduation. I’m apparently at my home in Kerala. But the house looks different. I call up my friend Sarah and her mum picks up the phone. *Her mum doesn’t like me. Feels I’m too independent for my own good.
Then I call Lena, I talk for a few minutes but don’t get what I want. Then I grudgingly call Mohan, cos I’d been avoiding him for some time now. *He loves me. I don’t. I had made that clear from the beginning. Though his feelings for me don’t change, we both try to make an effort to be good friends.
I have to go to college.
For something.
He either offers to come with me, or he is the one who wants to go to college and persuades me to go with him. And since I’m not doing anything else, I go with him. Dunno, but we set off in his car to go to college.

We don’t go to college, we go to the nearby mountain and then.
Then, I’m what I’ve always wanted to be. A journalist, not an engineer. But a journalist. And I am trying to get information on some drug racket by interviewing one of the people. There’s me and Mohan and this fat photographer.

But the guy who I was supposed to interview does not come up. He sent this other guy who claimed to be a cop. He said he’s going to have me arrested for something. And I’m trying to explain to him he’s got the wrong person but he doesn’t listen. He asks all of us to get into the jeep.

And then I died.

I don’t know how or anything. I’m just dead. And I have this vague feeling that the cop killed us all. I’m in a car with Mohan and the other photographer guy and I’m feeling very guilty cos I feel like it’s my fault that Mohan and the photographer is stuck in the car. And I’m not sure if anyone knows we’re dead. I have no idea of how much time has passed. I feel guilty cos Mohan is close to his mum and I’m imagining his mum waiting for her son to come back from college, the son who’s going to graduate the next day. And somehow I get us all killed cos of my interview. But Mohan is happy cos we’re still together. And I’m still in the car and I’m talking to both of them like I’m not dead. I’m not sure if we realize we're dead.

We’re parked in this lonely street. There’s nobody else around and its night. Maybe it’s the night we died. Suddenly, this other guy comes up. It’s Rohan, my ex-boyfriend, and he’s always been the jealous type. I know he would be angry that I’m sitting in a car talking with two other guys.
He is angry. And I’m scared cos I realize he’s dead.
And he’s angry.
And I get out of the car. And that’s when I realize that till then, I was sitting in the car without really wanting to, but I couldn’t get out. Not till Rohan came.
And I wasn’t aware that I couldn’t get out.
And the car wasn’t even an obstruction for Rohan, he just plain walked through it and I saw him and just jumped up and got out of the car without opening the door or anything. And suddenly I’m out of the car too. And I walking with him and I tell him that it’s always been him. And he’s happy and we’re walking together in that empty street.
There are houses on either side of the street but everything’s quiet and somehow I know this is Mohan’s street and I know his mum is in there, in one of the houses, probably cursing me, cos it’s my fault her son’s not with her.
And then Rohan is talking to me and we’re talking about death cos I’m new to death, I don’t know anything about it. Don’t even really know that I am dead.
And he’s telling me everything about how I died. Seems that man wasn’t a cop and he had killed us all. Killed us and dumped us into the gutter. And when he said this, the gutter at the side of the road started overflowing. And the lid came off, and I see a body there. The same thing happens with the gutter on the other side of the road, another body appears. I can’t see the faces, cos they’re both floating head down in the water. But I know it’s Mohan and the photographer.

And then, I finally hear the people in the houses. They’re coming. You see, they hadn’t discovered the bodies till then. And I know Mohan’s mum’s become old and that’s she hadn’t even put her son to rest. He (his ghost or watever) was probably still in the car.
I dunno.
I had just gone off with Rohan.
I feel selfish.

I was horrified with the bodies, cos I wasn’t really even aware of being dead. I was just finding out. And Rohan was telling me. Then the place gets crowded with people. Lots of people. And now the streets seemed like Delhi, and not Kerala. The same streets, but a different feel to it.
Felt like Delhi.

I’m walking around; trying to understand the fact that I was dead and that no one could see me.
Rohan tried telling me I was dead. But I wouldn’t believe. I kept walking and looking at everyone hoping that at least one of them would look back at me.
And then it happened. A little girl, maybe 4 years old, *She resembles my neighbor from Kenya who left the country years ago.

I looked at her, and I saw her looking right back at me. So I go to her and hold her little face in my hands and I can see my reflection in her blue-black eyes. And I ask her “Can u hear me, little girl?” and she says yes, and she knows who I am too.
She smiles and says “Rahul was bending over at the riverbank there (she points to her right) and he sees your reflection in the water, and he got married to Her (dunno who Rahul is, dunno who ‘Her’ is) so that you could be with Rohan. "

And it was like I realized for the first time what had actually happened.
That I was dead and had been for a long time.
And when that realization struck it was so amazing and frightening that I woke up, immediately. But not with my eyes open. It’s like I just came back into consciousness and I’m back in my bed and my eyes are still closed. And that’s never happened before. I always open my eyes before I wake up. And I thought everyone did. But not this time. I woke with my eyes closed. I kept lying in that position and was too scared to move and my eyes tightly shut. I stayed that in that position for what seemed like a long time. Till I heard the Azan.
That’s when I finally relaxed. And then opened my eyes. And shifted my position to relieve my cramped muscles.
And now I’m here. Writing this, trying to make sense of this dream.
Rohan is the rebound guy. We broke up. But we’re still friends. I was chatting online with him yesterday night, so maybe that’s why I dreamt about him. I don’t know really.

It’s all really confusing and it’s been over an hour that I’ve been writing. And I’m tired. And I still have to go to work. I’m sad somehow. Don’t know why Rahul , whoever he is, had to get married to someone so that I could be with Rohan. Feel really selfish, cos he saw my reflection in the water. He saw me as a ghost. I haunted that place I guess.

I don’t feel too good.

Mad?

Who would you call a mad person?
Who would you consider mad enough to be put in the mental hospital?
And who the hell gave you the right to do that anyway?

I know of this lady from Trivandrum (Kerala, India, for the uninitiated) whose in-laws drugged her and put her in a mental institution for months on end cos the lady had asked for a divorce. They preferred to have their daughter-in-law in a mental institution rather than suffer the disgrace of having a divorce in the family. She escaped and wrote a book about it too.
It actually happened!
When I read it, I was horrified. Imagine being put in an institution where no one believes you. Cos everyone thinks you are mad!

I recently read in the paper ( I tried looking for a link to the story, couldn’t find one) about this man who had locked up his daughter in a room for 25 years. He says she is mad. And the police say she isn’t mad!
Twenty five freakin years!!

There is a very thin line between the sane and the insane.
How can you decide who really is insane?
Who is telling the truth? Who is lying?
It’s a scary thing, feeling that you are SO right about something, and everyone else will condemn you for it, or call you crazy.

There’s a movie in Malayalam, it’s called Thaniyavarthanam. It’s a heart-breaking story about a sane man ( I’m not using the word perfectly sane, cos I don’t think anyone is) is considered mad for no reason other than the deep-rooted belief among their family that one male from each generation will become mad cos the hero’s uncle became a mental patient after being separated from his lover!

Now who's crazy there??

But there is flip side too. Some mad people seem sane. They’re smart as hell, so they can hide it. Which is scary.
This incident shocked UAE and has been in the papers for quite awhile now. The man slits his wife’s throat (ok, that happens), then all of his kids’ throats one-by-one (heartless brute) and then his own!!?? Ok, he’s gotta be nuts. No one in their right mind would do that right? So he was a nutter right? But he had all his friends and colleagues fooled right? They might have thought him to be suicidal and depressed, but I’m sure they didn’t think he was dangerous. If they did, they would have complained. For their own safety.
But how do you get to that point?

How do you know?

Down and Out.

Wanted to write about how I had gone to the beach three nights in a row.
Wanted to write about how amazing it felt just floating in the water and looking at the black night passing by.
Wanted to write about how nice it felt when my sister kept following me wherever I swam cos she wanted to "be around me, just in case".

But then.

I checked my mail today. And everyone in my gang of ten seems to be getting married, or engaged. to their boyfriends.

Two are already married (arranged marriages, but they're both deliriously happy!)
The others are all getting engaged or married to their boyfriends in the next few months.
There is another one who has just left for Scotland, and her boyfriend is in India. And she obviously misses him badly. And then I read this line that she wrote.

"What's the use of having everything if you don't have anyone to share it with?"

And now I'm depressed.

Sonia goes to Gitex

Went to Gitex. What an absolute waste of time!

The place is HUGE, so I just got to cover just one hall.
Got loads of brochures, several bags to carry it all in, a few dozen business cards, hundreds of enthusiastic handshakes, and a million plastic smiles to boot!
I went with this colleague of mine, (let’s call him J) who has been going for years and loves it (he’s really weird, and not just cos he likes Gitex)!

We’re walking together, and I’m asking him something and suddenly I see him smile like he’s discovered his long-lost brother and he runs to this guy.

Hey yar Srikanth!!! How’re things?
Slow man, slow! It’s been a slow start.
Yeah?
Yeah man, slow! Slow!
Slow huh?
Yup, slow!

Just I start to tune off this scintillating conversation, Srikanth suddenly notices me standing beside J. “Heyyy! Is this...” he says, with a (un)knowing smile.
(OH Noooooo! Don’t tell me he’s actually linking me & J romantically! Yeeeeeeeeeeeeuuuuccckkk!!)

Arrhem, this is my colleague, Sonia, J corrects him, before he can put his STOOPID thoughts into words.
Thanx for the intro J, about time!

Enter me, with bright plastic smile on my face and murder in my eyes.

Howdedoo? My handshake has an extra firm grip to it.

Err…sorry…err... fine! Kinda slow actually!
(Yeah, I see that, but I wasn’t asking about your mental capabilities, numbskull!)


I saw two Filipino dancers doing a promotional dance for Canon (wonder if they come free with the purchase!) and also a fake David & Victoria Beckham (you know, the look-alikes). Duplicate David (DD) could have made a more authentic Moose Miller (from Archie comics). And Vicky-wannabe was wearing a pair of sunglasses (yeah, inside the building) that covered half her face, so you couldn’t make out who she was supposed to be anyway. She might as well have claimed to be a Britney Spears look-alike!
Wonder what they were doing there!
Canon needs a new marketing manager!

Three excruciatingly boring hours later, we headed back to the office. We had to wait for awhile for the taxi, cos everyone wanted one, and there was this looong line. We finally got a cab, but we got a maniac of a cabdriver (what were the odds of that happening to me?!!) who kept banging the window cos he couldn’t close it!! I had made the mistake of asking the man (who seemed perfectly sane till then) if he could switch on the AC. That’s when I realised that the AC was already on, but his window was open. He blamed it on the circuit, tried ALL the buttons, making all the other windows open and close, and even opened the car door (I’m NOT making this up) and kept banging the door and window with all his might to get the damn window to close. No luck! Obviously.Damn window wouldn’t close! All this when we were stuck in traffic! I watched as signals turned from red to green and back to red! Cabby was oblivious to all of it and totally frustrated with the window not closing. And the window remained stubbornly stuck, until he gave up! Then when we were driving along at snail’s pace (traffic was BAD), the window suddenly closed, on its own!!
Sheesh! Me thinks teenage ghost has haunted that car!
We finally got back to the office an HOUR later (the ride usually takes 15 mins).I got home late & with a killer headache! :o(

Can’t believe I’m going to have to do this AGAIN tomorrow!

Oh yeah! I forgot to mention, it wasn’t all bad.
I got a job offer! :o)

still...

I’d always wanted a younger sister.
I still remember I used to have an imaginary sister I used to play with when I was 4 years old!
And finally, finally after waiting for three looong years (time goes slower when you’re a kid), I got my wish when I was seven. I got my sister.

I remember when mama brought her into the house, she was sleeping. Mama laid her on the bed and left the room and I was all alone with my baby sister. She was so small! So small and so pink! She looked so delicate, and she was too! I couldn’t help but kiss her, ever so gently, on her forehead. Just a touch of my lips, that was it. But her forehead turned red, like a bruise! I got so scared! I thought I had hurt her. And I panicked and when mama came I denied everything.
I didn’t do anything mama, not a thing!
I didn’t even touch her!
Mama laughed and said it’s ok to kiss her, just that she’s delicate, so be careful!
I loved her so much! I was so damn proud of her! And she admired me so much! I was her chechi (elder sister) whom she loved and adored.

I left when she was 10. But even when she turned 15, she still loved me and valued my take on things. She loved hearing me talk about college and work and all. She used to call me and tell me she missed me.

But all that’s changed.
Now, she’s this self-assured female, 17 going on 25, who has no idea where she’s going, but makes sure it’s wherever she not supposed to go!
Now I’ve been shortened to chech, (when she’s in a good mood).
The look of adoration has been replaced with scorn.
The family is an embarrassment to her.
She only wants her ‘friends’.

I know it’s cos she’s at that age.
I know she doesn’t mean it.
I know she still cares.
I know!

But it just hurts so damn much when she says “I hate you”.

Mere Soundarya ka Raaz??

I hate lux. I’ve never bought it and I never will. It’s too harsh on my skin.
But it’s been there for 75 years and if they need to hire the likes of Aishwarya Rai , I guess they’re doing pretty well on sales too.

That’s why I don’t understand why they’re doing this !
I mean, the product is famous enough as it is, it doesn’t need more publicity by having to resort to desperate measures like this!

I doubt the people who don’t buy the product when Aishwarya endorses it gonna be swayed by Shah Rukh Khan thrashing in the tub.
I mean, come ON! Would women prefer to have skin like

Sometimes...

I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase…

I was listening to this song (by Evanescense, My Immortal) as I drove to work today.

And I relate to it so much that I just hate myself.

Any Comments ?

I thought it best to explain things in another post rather than reply to comments. I had wanted to explain more about what happened in the last post itself, but thought it would be way too long. So here goes.

V: :o)actually he (apparantly 'it' was a guy from Korea) seemed more angry than attracted to Indu. Dunno why though, and everything was ok till then. It didn't seem angry till Indu came into the room, but after she came in the coin was fairly flying from one letter to another. And we could somehow feel the anger, which is why we got scared. Indu actually got a fever that night, but she was okay in the morning. And we never did another seance in my room again!

Zerish: no it wasn’t. the temperature remained the same. We didn’t notice anything.

Silverine: 1) we cut up paper into bits and wrote the alphabets and numbers on them and arranged them in a circle. We also wrote the words ‘yes’ and ‘no’ , cos it was easier that way. We asked more close-ended questions. And actually you don't even need that. The damn coin is moving by itself right? Ask it to move towards you if the answer is yes or something. You just need the alphabets for more detailed answers.

2) I was told that we need at least 3 people to conduct the session. Initially that was the case with us too. But later on just my friend Sarah and I could do it by ourselves. But only me and Sarah,no one else could do it with just two people.
And also, you can email me now. Check my profile. :o)

Keshi: My friend who had done it before ( but had vowed never to it again, so just instructed us how to do it) told us to concentrate on “ Come holy spirit”. I want to stress on the fact that by “holy spirit” we did NOT mean ‘The’ Holy Spirit, but just any good spirit , preferably from heaven! But ALL of the ones who did come said they were from hell. ALL! We asked about heaven and hell and eerything but got very vague answers.

1. I do NOT have sixth sense, I’m not psychic. Just random things like the ones I told u about which I’m sure pretty much anyone will have. But I did tell you about the freaky connection I had with my friend, well, that friend is Sarah.

3. Yes, we had to maintain the connection all the time. We were pretty worried when Indu knocked on the door. Cos we didn’t wanna be caught by the warden, but we couldn’t break the connection by removing our fingers either. That’s why we asked the ‘spirit’ who was knocking.

And Now I have a question for you. When did you see a spirit? If you’ve written about it, please send me a link. Your archives are way too many for me to search through!


Joker: lol! Nothing to be scared of yar!

Rahul: You can. But I wouldn’t advise it. We stopped doing it cos we couldn’t explain what was happening and we were getting too obsessed with it. Me and Sarah that is. So we thought it best to stop. And we could do it too easily, which freaked us out.

Crazy but True

Keshi’s post reminded me of how we had conducted a séance at the hostel. We didn’t have a real ouija board, but we made do with writing the alphabets in a circle and putting the coin in between. The first time we did it, we had to concentrate for about half an hour. And we kept fidgeting and giggling. But finally the 1 rupee coin started shaking.

Now I know that most of you are not gonna believe me, but the coin really did move. I swear! I’m not saying it’s a spirit from the other world or anything. There’s precious little I know about the supernatural. But I know that somehow that coin moved.

We called several ‘spirits’. The first time we did it was during the day, and then cos we were so excited with the results we did it again at night, and it got a bit ugly. We were doing it in my room since my roommate (a Tamilian) had gone to another room. Tamilians have this weird habit (at least the ones in my hostel did) of rolling up their mattresses and placing it in the corner of the bed everyday (yeah, those mattresses were so thin they could be rolled). So her cot was the perfect plain surface where we could all sit comfortably and conduct the séance! We had locked the door and we were all asking all sorts of questions about death and heaven and hell and stuff, when somebody knocked on the door. So we asked the spirit who was knocking. And it spelt out my roommate’s name! I-N-D-U. We opened the door there she was, my roommate! We were amazed. But then suddenly the coin started moving again, really fast this time,

F-U-C-K-I-N-D-U.

That’s when started to get scared.
Indu, poor girl, was terrified. She couldn’t understand what was happening (she didn’t understand English very well), but the fact that there was an angry ghost on her bed was enough! We all got worried and tried to make the spirit go away by chanting “Go Spirit, GO!” After that everyone else left the room except for my friend Sarah and me.
It was all over.
But I looked at the coin, still on the bed, and I don’t know why, but I touched it. And Sarah did it too. And the damn coin started going round in circles! We didn’t know what to do, we just asked it to go away again, and this time round didn’t check to see if it had gone.

We didn’t sleep that night. But the next day, we were still alive and found it all really cool. We did it several times after that. It became easier and easier to make that coin move. Initially 3 people were required, but ( I don’t know if it’s cos we did it so often or not) Sarah and I could do it, just the two of us. But only the two of us. If two other people tried it, then it wouldn’t work. Dunno if all that had anything to do with it, but we just kept doing it all the time, and kept asking silly questions to which we never got straight answers.

We stopped doing it cos we decided that we didn’t understand enough of what was going on. You’re probably sceptical. If the tables were turned, I guess I would be too! But it happened.

So Tired of Hating.

Hate working just for the money.
Hate smiling just to keep everyone else happy.
Hate living someone else’s dream.
Hate worrying about what’s gonna happen to me.
Hate worrying about what’s gonna happen to my family if I do what I want to do and just leave.

Hate me in Dubai.

WHY???!!!

There was something different about him, the way he looked. His skin was porcelain white and he was dressed impeccably. Grey over coat, white shirt, grey pants, no tie though.

He moved quickly, with a purpose. He was dangerous, I could feel it. I kept my eyes on him even though I was meeting all my old classmates from school after a long time. They (my old classmates) were oblivious to anything and everything that was happening around them. Typical.

But he, he noticed everything. He was looking for a way out of the mall, and quick. He could feel the eyes of the police on him. A sniper-policeman. Is that what they're called? That’s what came to my mind when I saw the police aiming at him from the top of the escalator. Were they crazy?? Thousands of people around and that dumb policeman or sniper or whatever was aiming to get one guy?

The police shot, and missed. The man started running. He was almost at the exit and I was right in front of him when the policeman caught him from behind. The policeman wrapped his arms around the man to prevent him from escaping. He struggled to free himself. The policeman caught hold of the lapels of his coat and pulled it, as if he was trying to remove the coat.

And then, right in front of my eyes, the man's skin tore, as if he was made of cloth, right from the forehead down to his chest. He roared, with anger, and pain, and hatred. And then everything stopped. The last thing I saw was him, with his face frozen in rage, skin(?) split from the forehead down to his chest, and dried blood beneath it.
I couldn't bear it. I looked away, and opened my eyes.


Why the fuck do I get dreams like these?

Joe

He's the new love of my life!
My Rav4!

:o)

Can't stop smiling!

Choose NOW!

I'd really like a Rav4 , but everyone keeps telling me to choose a small car since this is my first time driving in Dubai( or anywhere, for that matter), So when I choose a VW Beetle, why do they still have problems? So what if there is no resale value? I'm looking the prices now, and they seem steep enuff. And who says I wanna sell it anyway?

And marriage! Why do they keep asking me what kind of guy I want? I DON'T KNOW DAMMIT!! I'm so bloody confused about a car, how the heck can I decide whom I should be spending the rest of my life with?!

"Time is running out" they say, and that scares me.

"You'll end up alone and lonely." I am already, and I hate it.

I don't know what my choices are anymore. Don't know if I ever had any. maybe it's like Mulder once said, "You realise the choices you had in life were already made"

I'm freaking out!

I'm Afraid

Hope gives you wings to fly, while Fate sits in the dark, laughing, biding His time.

God of Small Things.... THANK YOU!!

Ate the best cheese croissant ever at Costa in City Centre!
It’s absolutely, amazingly Oh-my-GAWD Deeelicious!

The croissant was warm and cut length-wise and the cheese put in-between like a sandwich with a sprinkling of cheddar on top. Cheese and croissant just melt in your mouth.

The view of the Emirates Towers and the creek, coupled with a cold cappuccino and excellent conversation with an old friend… the best weekend ever!

HUMara FM?

I had to work late yesterday. So when I got off work, it was too late to catch the bus, otherwise I'd end up getting home really late. So I hailed a cab. The driver was a Pakistani guy.

Now, I have nothing against any country in particular, or people, or religion. I've had the most wonderful conversations with Pakistani and well as Indian taxi drivers. I always found it interesting to hear about life from another perspective than just my little existance, which kinda explains my addiction to blogging. Anyway, this guy, was different.

I asked this guy to swtich on the radio, so he put hum fm ( one of the stations here). Then after some time, the Azan started playing. Now I have nothing against Islam. It's just another religion. I feel the same way about mine.I respect Islam just as much as I do Hinduism and Christianity, or any other religion. Cos in the end, its the person that matters na?

No offense, but I really didn't wanna listen to the Azan at the time. So I asked him to change the channel. He refused! I thought I should let it go, it's his religion and he wanted to listen to the prayer, so that's ok. I started listening to the radio on my cell phone. But the volume in the car was way too high for me to listen to my cell-radio. So I asked him to please reduce the volume. He refused!

Can you believe it?!!!!

The asshole started preaching, about how he is a Muslim and even if the shiekh came and asked him to switch it off he wouldn't and how can I listen to music, but not listen to the azan, that the person who was speaking was holy and blah blah....

I got so damn angry! I had hired the cab and the radio is for ME to listen to. If he wants to listen to something, that's fne, but not when he is working, not when I had hired him! I have to pay 25 bloody bucks to get from here to there as opposed to the 2.50 I usually pay on the bus, and I HAVE the choice to listen to whatever I wanted to. That's what the damn radio was there for! For the passengers!

Now my Hindi is pretty bad at the best of times, but when I'm angry, the only language that comes to me is English, and this asshole did not understand it! Arrrrrgggh!

I told him to shut up and he wouldn't, obviously, so we both yelled at each other and the Azan got over by the time. ( How ironic is that?) But we still kept yelling. It was so frustrating! He said if I told him to shut up he would stop the car and I could get the hell out. I told him no way is he gonna do that in the middle of the highway where there was no chance of me getting another taxi, I would not pay him, and to take me to the police station. And he said fine, but he didn't obviously. He took me home. And I paid him. And that was that.

All this ... for what? For asking him to reduce the volume? Is that an insult to ANY religion? When I was in Delhi, there used to be people ( hindu people) who used to sing religious songs on the loudspeaker ALL NIGHT LONG, and they did NOT sound anything like Udit Narayan and Alka Yagnik! I used to get so damn bugged. That happens in Kerala too. And my house is right next to the temple! So during festivals, I could pretty much say adios to my eardrums.

Do whatever you want, but why impose it on someone else? If I played nickelback LOUD all night long, won't they complain? Course they will. Suppose I sang all night long? hah!

What happened to respect & tolerance? Was it ever really there?

Sigh! Such a waste of emotion.

shifting sands

My favourite time of day these days is my bus-ride back to the house after work. I work split shifts, so I get off work around 7: 30, and there are not too many people in the bus at the time.

The bus is cooler than in the morning, and Dubai looks lovely. All black and shimmering lights, almost surreal. I listen to the radio and the songs remind me of ... everything! I feel sad sometimes, and sometimes happy, but mostly just peaceful.

I'm busier than ever, and its becoming harder to find the time to blog. But it seems like I have more to say than ever before. The bus rides give me a lot of time to think and feel. And the music makes me feel like I may be capable of falling in love in spite of everything.
I'm doing the same things everyday, and yet, life has never felt so uncertain.

The Week so Far...

* Major bad weather in Dubai, all dust and sandstorms. Consequently, I now have a nose that resembles Rudolph, and it feels like a blacksmith has put up shop in my head.

* I'm in charge of this major project at work which is worth about 7 million Dhs, (out of which I probably get nothing, but watever!) and its like I'm suddenly been asked to be a grownup!

I'm lost! Somebody help me! I'm just a kid with a degree! Nobody told me it would be like this!

* And the silver lining ........ I got my driver's license!!!
Although there are a lot of sceptics out there who doubt my ability to drive ! Here's a part of the conversation I had with my friend.

Me: Hey! I got my license!!!
Him(with evil smirk) : License to kill? lol!

Well, what does he know!

Damn Feelings!

Ok, I've tried! But I just gotta blog! I think I'm addicted!

Dunno how people just quit!

Its no big deal anyway. That last post I mean. I was just so worked up with the comments, and I didn't even know what I was typing till I was done. So that was that.

I was in a crappy relationship, like a lot of people have been through I'm sure. And I learned a lot. And I'm glad it brought me to Delhi,and blogging and everything else.

I went through a lot of soul searching and found... nothing really!

Hell, what do I know!? There I am, 23 years old, living alone in the big bad world, what do I do? I learn to survive.

That's it actually.

I can't say I don't regret it. I do, I really do!

Cos I have never been in love with anyone as much as I have been with him. And I've never felt that way for anyone since, and I'm scared I never will. I had trusted him, and our relationship, so completely! I don't know if I'll ever be able to do that again.

Oh well, there's always hope right? After all, tomorrow is another day...

right?

Too much!

I get the feeling I've spoken too much.

So I'm just gonna shut up for a while now.



(Terminator soundtrack in the background)
I'll be back!

Take care!

In Response to...

Everyone seems to have such fixed ideas about marriage and relationships. But the thing is, I don't think its fixed. It varies from person to person and relationship to relationship. Everyone has issues of their own, and we have to find someone who understands them and they can be compatible with, people who think similiarly. And its just plain lucky if you do!Cos you think you know a person, and then you see a side of them you never even knew existed. And you're like "What was I thinking??!"

I know loads of people (all of the them women though ) who are unmarried and happy and living full and complete lives, and I know married people (so many that it freaks me out)who are miserable, but just continue to live it like that out of convenience or cos they're scared of society and being on their own. I mean, who decides what is a complete life anyway? YOU do! Cos its YOUR damn life ain't it ?! Who cares if someone else thinks that getting married is the pits, maybe YOU wanna get married, cos you know that's how YOU will be happy. Or maybe you don't.

I KNEW that I would be happy being married when I had first fallen in love. How wrong was I! We had been friends for over three years. We didn't have to tell each other that we had fallen in love, we knew it already. But we hadn't said anything about it cos it was gonna be difficult. He being a Christian and me being a Hindu would make it VERY tough for our parents to accept us. But in the end we decided that we would try and convince our parents anyhow. Later, I find that he is the girlfriend-beating type. Well, He slapped me once and promised it wouldn't happen again. Why did I forgive him? Cos I still loved him! I know, stupid, but it happens a lot. We used to fight ALL the damn time! I was so sick of it, and he was too! Still later, his parents find out he chickens out.


We break up. I'm totally disillusioned obviously. I mean, I thought you meet someone and fall in love and that would be it. I had never felt so alone in all my life. I was all alone in Delhi, with no friends to speak of, no boyfriend and a broken heart. I couldn't run to my family, no way. When my mum came to know about my relationship, she had told me I was being stupid, and that he was a christian, and he will not be there when his parents find out. And I was so sure of myself, and him. I reassured her that that was bullshit! How could I run back to her? I had lost everything, but I was still proud as hell. Must be a leo thing.


Slowly things change. I begin to realise where I had gone wrong. I had had no life of my own in Delhi. I had only acquaintances, no friends. All of my friends were his friends from his college. I was an extension of his life. Which was a big mistake. Cos when that ended, I had nothing.

Slowly, I made friends, tried to fix my life back together. And then things got really bad.He came back into my life again, saying he was sorry for being such a jerk and all, and that he wanted to be friends. I was okay with being friends, cos I still didn't hate him ( I wonder why!).

But he just didn't know how to be friends. He became jealous when guy-friends from work called. He started calling me at all hours of the night and day, telling me that he needed me for emotional support and crap. I had had enough. I told him to leave me alone. I stopped answering his calls. But then he logged into my yahoo messenger ( he had my password and I had not changed it, never thought he would turn out to be a maniac) and checked my mail too and he changed my password and didn't give it to me for three days! Which was the last straw!
I changed my password, changed my house, and phone number.

Before I left, he came to my PG and told me he needed me to be there for him. I told him to never to come to me again, and if he does I would go to the police. He slapped me and walked off before I could recover from the shock and break his nose!


Then one day I was in Green Park market haggling with the auto drivers when suddenly I hear somebody shout my name. I look back and see him beaming at me, so happy that he saw me and all! I couldn't believe the guy! The last time he saw me, he had slapped me and walked off and now he is acting like nothing had happened! I just jumped into the next auto and sped off, to where Rohan( not his real name) was waiting for me.

Rohan, my new boyfriend.

But that is another post.

Not Ready

Ok, so I'm 24! ( will be this August,anyway! )

So why does that makes ALL the parents I know hyperventilate and start running around looking for "a suitable boy" for me?

I mean, WHY?

Am I now too old for any guy to wanna get married to me? Do I even care?

Why don't people ever ask me if I even want to get married?

I was talking to a married ( happily married) friend of mine and she was asking me what I have against marriage.

The answer is ... NOTHING!

I don't have anything against marriage, but really, I don't have anything for it either.

I asked her to tell me why she enjoyed being married so much. Other than sex of course, and anyway, I've heard that its totally overrated!

She told me about companionship, sharing, caring blah blah...

So her parents chose well.She's just lucky. How will I know that I'm gonna be as lucky as she is and get a guy who will be half as good even? After 19 years of living with my parents, they don't even know who I am, how are they gonna know what kinda guy they'll find for me?

And about falling in love, well, what about it?

I've trusted in my heart and been proved wrong once, who's telling it won't happen again?

I'm just not ready to risk it anymore.

No Bread? Have Cake

It bugs me when people take things so much for granted here.
I guess I shouldn't judge, I could've been just as bad, but I don't remember being this indifferent about the rest of the world.

People fill their glasses with water, drink half of it and throw the rest away. People waste their food cos they're on a diet. They think that a cell phone and cool car are one of the necessities of life.

I remember one cold December night in Delhi when I was going home from work, I was waiting at the signal. There was this boy standing beside the car in front of me, begging. It was about 7 degrees, I was wearing layers and layers of woolens and I was still cold. He was barefoot and wearing shorts. That was it. I will never forget that boy.

I get so bugged with my sister when she wastes water or something. and I yell at her and then we start fighting. She doesn't understand why I have to get so "hyper" about such a "small" thing. And lately I'm so short tempered, I start shouting even though I know I shouldn't. And then the situation obviously becomes worse. She will stubbornly refuse to finish the water cos I'm shouting and I get so upset thinking of the things I've seen in Delhi that pretty soon I start crying and become totally useless!

Life's a bitch sometimes!

Thank you!

So many things to say! Well, three, actually.

1. So I have a new job.

I'm still in training so they haven't alloted any of the clients to me yet, so I don't really have much to do other than trying to keep myself from falling asleep ( I keep drinking black coffee, and then consequently keep running to the loo!!)

2. I read Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince.

Bought it on the 16th and read it every spare minute. Made me sad. Made me feel cheated. Made me realise that I'm not ready to grow up yet.

3. July 13th 2004, the day I started blogging.

Not this blog of course, I had another one. I wanted it to last for like...EVER, but it had to go. But I'm thankful for a lot of things it gave me.

4. ( ok, now that I've started, I realise I have more to say! It's MY blog after all! )

I miss India.

Yeah, that's all.
Thanx for reading!

Things are Looking Better!

Hey!

I'd like to say a big THANK YOU to everyone who commented to my previous post. Thanx for putting up with such a whiner!

I have pretty good news.

I got a job! :o)

YIPEE!!!!!!!!!

All this lamenting around the house doing nothing and thinking about a bleak future is gonna be a thing of the past! Its a great offer! and I'm sure I'm gonna learn a lot! I start on Saturday!

The only problem now is how to juggle my full to overflowing schedule! I had unwittingly just joined for CCNA classes (I should've seen that coming I guess! Murphy's Law!) for which I already paid the fees, and I doubt it's refundable! :o( my work timings cut into my driving and CCNA, which is gonna be BAD!

But that's ok!
As long as I got the job, I can handle everything else!


But my parents are just too much! I had called them from my cell the when I was in the taxi on my way home from the interview to tell them I got the job, and when I got home, they had a marriage proposal waiting for me!! They're like " Now that you have a job, what are you waiting for? Get married!"

Sheesh!

Some things never change do they?!

So Lonely!

I'm terribly lonely. I'm really busy and all that, but I'm so damn lonely!

I'm scared that I'll end up being such an emotional wreck that in the end I'll end up saying yes to any guy that my parents bring thinking that I can escape, and instead I'll be sucked further into the deep pit of lonliness and be beyond help!

I hate feeling like this.

Say Ahh!

I hate dentists!

They bring out the coward in me.

I had a good dentist in Dubai. He was nice and funny, with good in-the-mouth manners and everything. But he wouldn't let me close my eyes! He would make me keep them open when he was working on my mouth cos apparantly he wanted to know if I fainted since I was on local anesthesia and that happened sometimes!(the fainting). And I would stare at his eyes, actually at his specs, where I could see the reflection of the bloodied mouth (mine!) he was working on. God!
And he liked his jokes, that one! He would notice what I was doing and the white knuckles and act like he was frustrated with me being so scared and yell " Nurse! I've had it! I'm leaving!" with four weird thingys still stuck in my nouth. I wud groan my sorry, and he wud laugh and say, " I'm done! i'm just kidding! " Him and his kidding!

But that was just the beginning unfortunately! When I was in India my prosthodontist and orthodontist decided I had to wear braces , so they made me pay them 12000 bucks and forced me to visit every 2 weeks so that they could rip my mouth open and then stitch it back together again. Sadists!

At the end of most sessions, he would stuff my mouth with cotton and tell me not to take it off for at least a half hour. And cos I was on my own , I would have the hardest time trying to make the auto driver understand where I wanted to go with my mouth all outta shape. I used to cry my eyes out on my way home, and then , once home, I wouldn't be able to eat anything solid, cos my mouth just couldn't take any more abuse! So I would cry some more!

And today, I had to go to the dentist again. I'm on painkillers, but my mouth still hurts!

Rant Rant Rant!

Ok! Here's the deal, I'm looking for a job in this damn desert! (which doesn't seem to be damned and is nothing like a desert, but watever!)

I've left my beloved country and came back here, and have been here for almost 2 months now. I got two job offers, one which I rejected cos its not really what I wanna do (KILL ME!!!), and the other which did not work out, cos speculating really isn't my thing. I thought I could do it at first, but then I realised that was just the money talking!

So anyway, I'm without a job, getting bugged with the sighs of despair from my parents who think I'm a waste of oxygen, and I've been putting on weight like crazy, cos all I do is, of course, eat sleep, and turn the pages of the Appointments section of Gulf News ( the local noosepaper), which does not really count as exercise!

This post doesn't really have a point, other than ranting a bit about the injustice of it all I guess. I've been working for almost two years now, and was dependent on NOBODY financially. So now I feel weird when I have to go daddy for everything.


Somebody (AAANYbody) help me!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hurt

When I feel my parents are not proud of me.

When somebody I trust betrays me.

When people I care about lie to me.

When no one cares anymore.



Well, to hell with that, I don't care myself.

A Reason

Change. Confusion. Fear. Friends. Old. New. Fear. Doubt. Sadness. Emptiness. Lie. Love. Expectation. Disappointment. Heart-break. Pity. Regret. Memories. Laughter. Indifference. Good? Bad? Prayer. Passion. Smile. Tears. Wonder. Hide.

Hope.

Well, its a new blog folks.

Welcome.