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?