Travelogues, vignettes, I love airports.

Right now, I'm sitting in Kay's hostel room, listening to thunder, shuddering, watching her pack, so that she doesn't have to do it later in the week. Our plans to go rollerblading on the beach have been foiled, at least put off by a couple of hours by the thunder and the rain. Hmf, this is like being in my room in Bombay, disgruntled with the downpour.

Snippets from the past three days...I wrote mostly at the airport. I like airports, you see?

Written 7th may, 7.00am local time, Abu Dhabi Intl airport.

Airports are wonderful, I've always loved them, if for nothing else then the sheer people-watching potential. Look at people, burly sporty types with backpacks and tattoos, a mother with her young son who insists on eating pizza at 7am, bored-looking woman at the table next to me, interesting couple with backpacks playing UNO. Accents and languages blend in a murmur with the sound of cash registers and clinking coins, people come in, walk through, walk out. What I really want to do is pull out my camera and capture.

Written 9.15 am, Abu dhabi intl Airport.

After a 40min phone call to Chikki, and about ten minutes at a free wifi terminal (I think these are very cool) I'm sitting at gate 33, with an 8-hour flight ahead.
My vacation is nearly over! I'll have only 2 weeks once I get back, there better be a lot of fun nights!

Written 10.15pm local time, Changi Intl Airport Singapore

Flight landed 20 minutes ahead of schedule, so no Kay yet. She left after I called her. I'm people watching, looking at many pretty girls in TINY shorts and long tops. I think i'm going to like it here.


I could swear a man just JOGGED past me, in running shorts and a vest :|

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That was when Kay arrived, looking very Singaporean indeed, with a denim skirt, black top, pin-straight hair and a huge smile. I'm happily shocked at how well she blends in. We cabbed it to the hotel, where Bhaiyya was waiting. Happy times with good food and stuff. We got BACK to the hotel at...what, 3?

Ah yes I DO like it here.

Yesterday, I shopped. Girls, read on. Guys, go away if you wish.
I didn't buy much, but I did squee a lot in the 4-storeied Forever 21 (I shall never stop calling it that) where I bought a skirt and some tank tops. I don't have the courage for the uber-sex lace skirt yet, I'll buy stockings first. Orchard Road, you see huge signs for Prada, Louis Vuitton, all the usual suspects. I grinned at the thought that  was just the WRONG person to be here, Ankiet, SNam and Chinmoi would KILL to be here, and have the cash for it (ofcourse I don't have the cash for hardcore designerwear, but I don't want it either). I did go to Charles & Keith, and got a beautiful bag, and shoes. For the interested, black peep-toes with crossover straps. Ankiet, are you listening? Be proud.

Quote of the YEAR: Arvind - Is that Britney Spears being sung by a man?
                                  Kay - That's Savage Garden :|

The rain has stopped, so I'm off to the beach. Later, peeps.

Don't try to convince us. We don't believe you.

Most creative professions have their little challenges, the dark horses, the Everests......the little hates...like Ami on Miami ink hates having to do fairies, I think advertisers must detest doing ads for sanitary pads.
Periods are a pain, period....okay, full-stop. You'd think it's easy to get used to, seeing that it's inevitable and happens every month....but it's not. Fact remains that we hate it and everything about it. Hate PMS, Detest the cramps, and loathe the ickiness...
Therefore, when we're in a state where violence seems rational, we really don't want to see the happy-happy pad ads, all SO untrue.
Most ads seem to say, use our product and you'll be comfy doing anything, playing soccer to climbing gates to running through sprinklers.
Not true. comfort lies not in the brand used, It lies in yourself....
So.."Have a happy period"...??
Not possible. Not even probable. Tolerable, maybe. Happy, no. Not unless your product can stop cramps and PMS and everything else we hate about this monthly show of blood. So keep dreaming.
I wonder if the girls in the ads have their period when the ad's being filmed......
Anyway. No biggie. just the "have a happy period" REALLY pissed me off.
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hmm. mess mess everywhere.
now reading: 100 years of solitude, finally.
now feeling: sick. no prizes for guessing why.
now wanting: sleep. and satisfaction with life.

Sensory Overload

Yeah, well, I've been in Mumbai for hardly a week.....The DAy after i got here, I became an aunt, again. And the day after that, I saw my niece.
She looked.....well, like what most day-old kids look like.....tiny....red....soft....And I looked at her sleeping form and watched her face move as she succumbed to baby dreams, and I suddenly understood why everyone instantly falls in love with babies. She was precious. just precious. We don't have a name for her yet.....but she's beautiful..

And directly from there I had to go to a government hospital in Byculla, where scruffy cats competed with patients for food in a dreary ward, which looked, well, not all there.....

Spent a lot of time either in bookstore or rickshaw, bought 8 books, I normally average 14 every vacation, so I' definitely buying more.......
lesee.....
I found the 2nd and 3rd part of Samit Basu's gameworld trilogy, oh well, i'll just do the whole list later, shall I?
And went to Inorbit on a Sunday, BAD idea, the place was so full, I felt suffocated.....
The thing about this city that always strikes me, is the sheer effort most people take to dress up, just to get outs the house or whatever, the girls look almost model-like, most of them, in tight jeans and figure-hugging tops, layered with a jacket, and definitely some accessores.....you find people dressed so differently, from that end of the spectrum to very traditional, but you don't fing people looking downright scruffy like I do.... So today I'm wearing one of my dressier (and skimpier) shirts, and shorts. I cannot, cannot stand the heat.

Whenever I'm not out, i've usually collapsed on the bed in an exhausted stupor.....still recovering from manali....sigh....
anyway, cheers to me....look me up if you want to meet...can't guarantee, but i can try,.and that's something, na?

I wish I could see into the future.....

My mom flopped down in a chair today afternoon and said "You know what happened in my class today??"
I prepare myself for something unusual, mom's special ed class has the youngest students in the Centre for Special Education that's on my school campus, so there's almost always something going on there, and almost everyday someone has to clean up something......

So I asked her, "Nah, tell me...."

" J got her period today.........."
Ouch.
Shit.
J is 8 and a half years old. She's autistic.
" She's almost like a baby, she is a baby" Mom said, "She doesn't understand anything...."
I pondered.
A lot of people feel sad when they see the kids....it's no use feeling sad....because the kids aren't sad....they're happy, they're pure unadultrated joy like you can hardly find anywhere else.....
And there are so many things, so many little miracles that make mom's day, and that's what they work for, the little miracles....

J, who earlier never talked, crawls up to Mom with a bubble wand and says "Blow."
That's the one miracle I've heard about....but there are more....

And then there are the situations that always make you laugh....
like B, a 5 year old boy who can talk the hind leg off a donkey, very articulate in Hindi and English, And boy, the stuff he says....
Last month, he told Tina (his teacher) that he had promised to be bad for a whole week. And he lived up to his promise, running out of class at the least opportunity, struggling ("I will stuggle, I will stuggle") when they dragged him back, tantrums, etc etc etc.......

There's A, he's, I don't know, 7? He's beautiful. In 10 years, he'll be a total hottie. He's autistic too...but he's great, he talks, he works when worked with, and his mum, she's the most proactive mum I've ever seen....she's done so much for her son and all the other Mothers who come to the centre with their kids.....

Oh, it's a great place to work and all, you just need plenty of patience, muchas optimism, and Hope. Above all, hope. And you learn to see the joy in the little things. In the end that's what matters, innit?

On Impulse

So today we initiated Tina into the marvel that is Muttrah Souq.
Damn I love that place, I could stay there forever, just as long as I had my camera. But sadly no camera today. Boo.
One day I'm going to go back, on my own, and explore every little alley and lane, and open my eyes and look at the place with the developing eye of a photographer. And then I'm going to come home and be happy with my work.....
So we'd gone there to buy a gift for someone, a colleague of mom's and Tina's......it's like a little treasure hunt in there.....you never know what you'll find....and once the doors of a shop vanish behind you, you never know if you'll be able to find your way there the next time.....every few metres a new alley opens up a bhandaar of possibilities......
I've mostly been here at night, it adds to the mystique of the place....but there is something to be said about it when it's in blazing sun. I looked up at the ceiling to see a glass mosaic with the sunlight filtering through, I look around me, I see silver and stones in every corner, sacks heaped with spices, piles of shawls, mojhdis in a neat row, abayas, telescopes, jewelry and curios handed down through generations.......cheap toys, in fact this is one of the best places to come for them, mom buys dolls for her special ed. class here, mostly.
It hurts to get out of here.....
So this shop we went into, it has these beautiful lockets and all, semi-precious stones in an open setting in silver, lovely floral designs and all, as well as strings of stones, little studs, rings........as mom picked out her choice, I slid up to the counter and enquired about the possibility of getting my ears pierced....
"Peerbucks," the man told me. "5-6 shops down, in this line."
Off I went, mom following....and then I found it, an unassuming shop with a picture of a piercing gun on the door.
In I go, mark the spot with a dot of ink, squeeze mom's hand and shut my eyes tight as Tina regales us with a story about how some guy in Rajasthan pierced her ear with a hot needle....
Prepare to feel excruciating pain that will make me scream and scram...
and open my eyes as the stud rams into my lobe..
"That's IT???"
And we go home, a stud richer.....4 rials poorer.....but happy.....

I hate people who make us feel bad about our bodies.....and other things.

I'm beautiful. I know that. I've got lovely long lashes, great hair and all.
I also know I'm goddamned skinny.
I've always been thin. Bit Chubby as a kid, skeletal through primary and middle school. Same beautiful lashes, but eyebrows twice their current size (It's great what a roll of thread and dexterous hands can do.....). But I knew I was a healthy kid. Quite strong too, because when I'd hit people, my bones hurt them.
Middle school was the time when most girls started getting hints of curves, some of them had more than just a hint, but my body stayed poker-straight. Most girls started getting a bit feminine, but me, jeans, shorts and loose shirts ruled my wardrobe. Jewellery was bought but never worn.
"You're too thin, Myst," my "so-called" best friend at the time often told me. "It's sick, really. You have got to put on some weight. Not much, just to fill you out a little."

I hated it.I didn't think I looked sick at all. I was healthy. Sure, I'd like to gain a bit of weight, but what could I do? Someone up there had given me the gift of a thin body. The ability to eat anything with an obscene amount of fat and carbs and not have it show on me at all.
My other best friend, she had issues about being a bit on the plumper side.
Now that I call ironic.

Still slim, I passed out of middle school into 9th grade, where popularity was sadly judged mostly by beauty, curves, cup size and number of relationships.I had neither.
Ok, I don't actually know how they judged popularity, but I notice that most of those girls had all this going for them. except one, and she's like my body double, only a bit taller.

What I hate? How the shape of a girl's body dominates relationship chances. If you don't have a great bod, you better be exactly on the same wavelength as them if you want to have a chance with them.
Yeah, I know your figure has a lot to do with it, but this much??So much so that guys would pass up a smart, witty, fun-to-be-with overweight/skinny girl for one who has beauty without brains?

Now I'm 16. I've filled out a bit. not much mind you, but just a little bit. I have a nice flat stomach that people envy, and I like my hips. But I'm not busty. Sometimes that saddens me. I know it shouldn't, but it does.......
As a Wise One said, look at these models, (I have been, and she's right.) most of then are the same size as you. It's ok if you're not busty, you know? It really doesn't matter.

Still. Sometimes mirrors depress me too. Standing in my underwear in the dressing room at Forever21, I assess myself. I make a face. Bend over, clasp hands together. Smile. Straighten up. Bleh.
Walk out, (fully dressed.) Pick up black lace bra, a size larger than what I wear now. Sneak it back into the dressing room and try it on. It fits me like a little black extension of my skin, and it looks gorgeous.Vair comfy.I'm happy. I saunter out with a wistful smile, after examining the price tag and my almost-empty wallet.
I will be back for you.

It's not just me, everyone has body issues, however gorgeous they look. Sneh has a perfect petite figure with beautiful hips I'd die for, and she wants to lose weight.
This other girl I know has a reputation for two things, for being VERY busty, and for having a long long string of guys......But even she has body issues, she wonders why she's so unrealistically well endowed in the bra, wishes she could be smaller so that guys see her for herself.....
Then why am I worried, really? Me, I'm thin. I don't have the best figure, But I'm satisfied with it. So guys who say they like me, they'll like who I am, and not what I look like. It makes such a big difference........
I'd thought this post out quite well, but I've forgotten a lot of it......All I can say is...A girl's personality does not lie in her bra.

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I'm with a friend I haven't seen in six months. We went to the mall, hung around at Starbucks, where I glomped a mocha, bought two books, ogled a few more. Went to Centrepoint ond tried on stuff we'd never wear, I actually got to see the girl in a full length evening gown (well, as much as I could see when she was hiding behind the dressing room door). I paid for lunch, she paid for dessert (we tried out the chocolate fountain at the food court, I had cocolate covered strawberries, she had a chocolate covered croissant.). We were basically being crazy chicks.
It should have been the perfect day.....but it wasn't.
Firstly, I was thinking about the whole body image thing. But that normally doesn't get me down.....

I looked at this crazy girl I've loved for three years, and I couldn't help but feel I was losing her. 'Tis natural, she's gone to a school where she's found great friends, guys who're as smart as her, girls whom she can trust......I stay in my world where I'll always trust guys more because they don't judge you, at least the ones I choose to trust don't.

"you have changed..." She told me in the cab.
"Toldja, didn't I?" I've been through quite a lot since we last met, so I know I've changed. I'm a little more silent. A little less of a child.
"But you'll still be a maniac compare to my friends in Abu Dhabi" she said.
"Are they that sane?"

It should have been the perfect day. But something didn't allow it to be. Maybe it was that conversation I'd had in the morning, that tired me out, mind and body.Maybe it was that we both agreed there was a distance that hadn't been there before, Not a huge distance, but it was there. We both knew this.

But the love's still there. We're both very different, and that pulls us together. Opposites attract, I always told her. That's why we're stuck together.

She's the kind who'll turn away (and play with her phone) during the kissing scenes in movies, doesn't swear, Is feminine and mature, and induces laughter. The kind who put on disapproving expressions when we were reading this.Wears long skirts, mostly. The kind who's focused on the path as well as the destination, The one who hates exercise and loves dogs.

I'm the kind who'll shamelessly watch and wish I was there, swears a lot when I'm mad, Is a total tomboy, used to slide down stair banisters. Doesn't laugh much, but laughs at things only I find funny. Laughed throughout this. Wears shorts/cargo pants with a loose T-shirt. the kind who wants the end, the means will take care of themselves, and the one who NEEDS exercise, is a bit scared of larger dogs and has two cats at home.

There's much more. "I'll put it all up here," I told her, "all those hilarious differences.
They draw us closer. The only thing we share is that her birthday begins the moment mine ends. And that forged a friendship.