Have a million things in my mind but feeling a bit crap and shite. Need to do a retrospect of the year. Really should.
Tomorrow.
Showing posts with label Sense of Self. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sense of Self. Show all posts
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Today is one of those days
Today is one of those days.
When everything unravels, my eyes smart from the lack of sleep, my mind too numb to sort out that never ending to-do list and my spirit all shrivelled, lacking the energy to navigate the constant quagmire.
Of what? The pressures at work, the worries at home due to current state of being without maid, the new career path that I intend to carve, the financial implications....and a million other things like a new oven that needs to be bought, airconds that need servicing (damn the climate change police), passports to be collected, sippy cups, the right nursery/playschool, walking shoes for Sprong, change of diet.......
Oh, how trivial.
This writer captures my feelings so well.
" After all, there are bigger events. There is a world at large, and my, it’s large. Tanking economy. Greedy banks. Bloody wars. Power struggles. Politics and pundits, media glee.
We are aware of the blazing ring of fire circling us. In the middle of it, we change diapers. We wipe little bottoms. We shop in bulk. We return overdue books at the library. We go to work. We try to find work. We love and we lose our spouses, our children, our way. We cry in the shower.
None of this gets much press.
And yet. "
And yet.
When everything unravels, my eyes smart from the lack of sleep, my mind too numb to sort out that never ending to-do list and my spirit all shrivelled, lacking the energy to navigate the constant quagmire.
Of what? The pressures at work, the worries at home due to current state of being without maid, the new career path that I intend to carve, the financial implications....and a million other things like a new oven that needs to be bought, airconds that need servicing (damn the climate change police), passports to be collected, sippy cups, the right nursery/playschool, walking shoes for Sprong, change of diet.......
Oh, how trivial.
This writer captures my feelings so well.
" After all, there are bigger events. There is a world at large, and my, it’s large. Tanking economy. Greedy banks. Bloody wars. Power struggles. Politics and pundits, media glee.
We are aware of the blazing ring of fire circling us. In the middle of it, we change diapers. We wipe little bottoms. We shop in bulk. We return overdue books at the library. We go to work. We try to find work. We love and we lose our spouses, our children, our way. We cry in the shower.
None of this gets much press.
And yet. "
And yet.
Friday, June 19, 2009
kamala
I belatedly discovered the quiet passing of Kamala Das Suraiyya.
Her poems had been an influential part of my early 20s where I was a bit of a man-hater type feminist.
Perhaps, more than Adrienne Rich, Rachel Carson and Catherine McKinnon, Kamala Das had impacted my young self. The angry young woman phase that I was going through found solace in a woman from a fairly repressive culture - Kamala could boldly explore sexual longing, feminine wiles and freedom. Every word of her poetry reeked with pain and pleasure.
Of course, she has also been contradictory in her ways. In her late age, she took on the burqa which confused and infuriated people. The eloquent Huree Babu explores the Kamala Das phenomenon.
Rest in peace.
When I die
Do not throw the meat and bones away
But pile them up
And
Let them tell by thier smell
What life was worth
On this earth
What love was worth
In the end
Her poems had been an influential part of my early 20s where I was a bit of a man-hater type feminist.
Perhaps, more than Adrienne Rich, Rachel Carson and Catherine McKinnon, Kamala Das had impacted my young self. The angry young woman phase that I was going through found solace in a woman from a fairly repressive culture - Kamala could boldly explore sexual longing, feminine wiles and freedom. Every word of her poetry reeked with pain and pleasure.
Of course, she has also been contradictory in her ways. In her late age, she took on the burqa which confused and infuriated people. The eloquent Huree Babu explores the Kamala Das phenomenon.
Rest in peace.
When I die
Do not throw the meat and bones away
But pile them up
And
Let them tell by thier smell
What life was worth
On this earth
What love was worth
In the end
Friday, June 05, 2009
Personal Strategic Plan
Having just conceptualized a strategic business plan for the start up centre, I am now going to craft a Personal Strategic Plan 2009-2015.
Why 2015? Because that's when I turn freaking 40.
When I write it this way, 40 seems so close. Not that I am one of those women afraid of getting old and all that brouhaha (though I must go and ask the Msian PM's wife her secret to youth. In every new shot, she looks ever younger, what is it my dear- botox, jamu, other elixirs, hahaha).
Anyway, 6 years isn't a long time and 40 just seems to be an age where you better have it together ie life in general. For me, this will translate into family and MONEY. While I have drifted through most of my 20s and early 30s without much of a plan, I do feel that it's time I come up with a framework towards financial security, esp now that I only have 6 years to go (5 and a half to be exact, yegawds).
I never really thought of financial security- I let M worry about that- but now, with a child, it is increasingly on my mind because I want to ensure that I have done everything possible to ensure that he can explore all chances in life esp in terms of education.
How to go about doing this is where I need to think things through.
Why 2015? Because that's when I turn freaking 40.
When I write it this way, 40 seems so close. Not that I am one of those women afraid of getting old and all that brouhaha (though I must go and ask the Msian PM's wife her secret to youth. In every new shot, she looks ever younger, what is it my dear- botox, jamu, other elixirs, hahaha).
Anyway, 6 years isn't a long time and 40 just seems to be an age where you better have it together ie life in general. For me, this will translate into family and MONEY. While I have drifted through most of my 20s and early 30s without much of a plan, I do feel that it's time I come up with a framework towards financial security, esp now that I only have 6 years to go (5 and a half to be exact, yegawds).
I never really thought of financial security- I let M worry about that- but now, with a child, it is increasingly on my mind because I want to ensure that I have done everything possible to ensure that he can explore all chances in life esp in terms of education.
How to go about doing this is where I need to think things through.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Dying and Other Thoughts
I am due for a scheduled surgery sometime next month. The surgeon was shocked that I had put off the surgery for as long as I did. I have a sebaceous cyst (sp? too lazy to link) growing on my head. It is fairly benign and a small incision is all that is needed to slice it off, roots and all. He was just surprised that I had let the tumscent protuberance grow as much as it did.
'Nobody can see it, it's hidden under my hair' I say, quite sheepishly.
He tsks, tsks, tsks and orders for immediate surgery.
'But....who is going to take care of Sprong?' I wail.
'If it turns septic, you will be away from your baby wayyyyy longer' he admonishes.
The upcoming surgery makes me think of mom's who are dying young. Natasha Richardson and Jade Goody, two people who I didn't particularly know or care about. But the fact that they are young moms who have died has made me sit up and think of my own.
My death is not something I have ever given much thought. Until Sprong arrived. What would happen to him -in terms of care, love, etc. I wake up one night and make M promise that he will marry again if I die. He tells me to go back to sleep. I have no will, no guardian in place.
This Newsweek article captures the whole young mom dying :
When my daughter was two weeks old, I was standing at the top of some steps and, for a minute, I held her tighter because I was truly afraid that the wind would blow her out of my arms. It sounds crazy now, but the urge to protect your child is hardwired and sometimes irrational. Indeed, for the first few years of their lives, it seems like our main occupation is to keep them from certain death. You scoop tiny chokeable bits of things out of their mouths; you grab them by the pants just before they fall off a chair, the stairs, the top of the slide; you stop them from prying old gum off the sidewalk.
And of course sometimes kids do fall, and there you are in the emergency room, freighted with guilt or panic or both. Most of the time, they are fine, and you get used to a certain level of parental worry. But there's another opposite and almost equally terrifying thought that we don't talk about as much: what if something happened to us before our kids were old enough to take care of themselves?
We're usually so preoccupied with our children's well-being that our own safety is an afterthought. But the deaths of two notable mothers over the past week, both with young children, have made those thoughts hard to avoid. Last Wednesday, actress Natasha Richardson died in New York from a brain injury after a skiing accident. She and her husband, actor Liam Neeson, had two sons—just 12 and 13 years old. Then, over the weekend, 27-year-old British reality-TV star, Jade Goody, succumbed after a long and public struggle with cervical cancer. She left behind two little boys, ages 4 and 5.
Neither woman was superstar famous, but the stories of their deaths were chilling to the mothers I know. Some of us could barely remember a movie we'd seen Richardson in, we just knew that she was gracious and well loved and just 45 years old. Her passing from something as capricious and random as a minor fall on the gentlest of ski slopes was so jarring that we couldn't stop talking about the how and the why. We hoped that an autopsy would show that something else, a pre-existing condition maybe, caused her death. But no. These things happen. It could have been any of us.
And when we learned that she waved away an initial offer of medical care after her fall, we understood. I'm sure that if one of Richardson's children had bumped his head she would gone to an emergency room immediately, and stayed for as long as it took to be absolutely sure that the boy was fine. But how many parents, if we'd taken a small tumble, would have looked at the day's plans and said, "No, I don't want to ruin everyone's vacation only to spend hours at the hospital over a minor bump. We don't have time. I'll be fine."
We find it easy to postpone our own doctor's appointments, but not the ones for the kids. We helmet them, but not ourselves. This is why airlines still have to remind parents to put their own oxygen masks on before they take care of the kids.
The passing of Britain's Goody inspired another trail of questions for parents. She was known as a kind of over-the-top "wrong side of the tracks Lady Diana," and had become famous after a controversial stint on the reality show "Big Brother." When she learned that she had an aggressive form of cervical cancer, this young woman who had not much else to offer, decided to sell the rights to televise her last days so that her two sons would be provided for.
Her decision caused an uproar in England. But it made me think twice about what I'd do for my two daughters if I knew I wasn't going to be around. So many of us haven't properly sorted out a living will, or even a regular will with provisions for guardianship should our kids be left without either parent. And as for less concrete types of preparation, I'm not sure what I'd do if I were given the terrible luxury of time to prepare my two daughters for my own passing. Goody told her sons that they could look to the sky and find her there, a star to watch over them. Hearing that, it was impossible not to think about what I'd say to my girls. It's like the unexplainable urge to put your finger right into the blue center of a candle flame. Horrible and irresistible.
But another week of work, school projects and laundry is already upon us; it won't be long before we forget Richardson and Goody. That's perhaps one blessing of having young children. The struggle to simply keep up with the everyday doesn't leave much time for fretting over hypotheticals. Still, I am going to finally make an appointment for a long overdue checkup. I'll do it for my kids. And I'll be thinking about Richardson's and Goody's children as I do it.
So yeah, I am going to go for the surgery. And keep all my medical appointments. For Sprong.
'Nobody can see it, it's hidden under my hair' I say, quite sheepishly.
He tsks, tsks, tsks and orders for immediate surgery.
'But....who is going to take care of Sprong?' I wail.
'If it turns septic, you will be away from your baby wayyyyy longer' he admonishes.
The upcoming surgery makes me think of mom's who are dying young. Natasha Richardson and Jade Goody, two people who I didn't particularly know or care about. But the fact that they are young moms who have died has made me sit up and think of my own.
My death is not something I have ever given much thought. Until Sprong arrived. What would happen to him -in terms of care, love, etc. I wake up one night and make M promise that he will marry again if I die. He tells me to go back to sleep. I have no will, no guardian in place.
This Newsweek article captures the whole young mom dying :
When my daughter was two weeks old, I was standing at the top of some steps and, for a minute, I held her tighter because I was truly afraid that the wind would blow her out of my arms. It sounds crazy now, but the urge to protect your child is hardwired and sometimes irrational. Indeed, for the first few years of their lives, it seems like our main occupation is to keep them from certain death. You scoop tiny chokeable bits of things out of their mouths; you grab them by the pants just before they fall off a chair, the stairs, the top of the slide; you stop them from prying old gum off the sidewalk.
And of course sometimes kids do fall, and there you are in the emergency room, freighted with guilt or panic or both. Most of the time, they are fine, and you get used to a certain level of parental worry. But there's another opposite and almost equally terrifying thought that we don't talk about as much: what if something happened to us before our kids were old enough to take care of themselves?
We're usually so preoccupied with our children's well-being that our own safety is an afterthought. But the deaths of two notable mothers over the past week, both with young children, have made those thoughts hard to avoid. Last Wednesday, actress Natasha Richardson died in New York from a brain injury after a skiing accident. She and her husband, actor Liam Neeson, had two sons—just 12 and 13 years old. Then, over the weekend, 27-year-old British reality-TV star, Jade Goody, succumbed after a long and public struggle with cervical cancer. She left behind two little boys, ages 4 and 5.
Neither woman was superstar famous, but the stories of their deaths were chilling to the mothers I know. Some of us could barely remember a movie we'd seen Richardson in, we just knew that she was gracious and well loved and just 45 years old. Her passing from something as capricious and random as a minor fall on the gentlest of ski slopes was so jarring that we couldn't stop talking about the how and the why. We hoped that an autopsy would show that something else, a pre-existing condition maybe, caused her death. But no. These things happen. It could have been any of us.
And when we learned that she waved away an initial offer of medical care after her fall, we understood. I'm sure that if one of Richardson's children had bumped his head she would gone to an emergency room immediately, and stayed for as long as it took to be absolutely sure that the boy was fine. But how many parents, if we'd taken a small tumble, would have looked at the day's plans and said, "No, I don't want to ruin everyone's vacation only to spend hours at the hospital over a minor bump. We don't have time. I'll be fine."
We find it easy to postpone our own doctor's appointments, but not the ones for the kids. We helmet them, but not ourselves. This is why airlines still have to remind parents to put their own oxygen masks on before they take care of the kids.
The passing of Britain's Goody inspired another trail of questions for parents. She was known as a kind of over-the-top "wrong side of the tracks Lady Diana," and had become famous after a controversial stint on the reality show "Big Brother." When she learned that she had an aggressive form of cervical cancer, this young woman who had not much else to offer, decided to sell the rights to televise her last days so that her two sons would be provided for.
Her decision caused an uproar in England. But it made me think twice about what I'd do for my two daughters if I knew I wasn't going to be around. So many of us haven't properly sorted out a living will, or even a regular will with provisions for guardianship should our kids be left without either parent. And as for less concrete types of preparation, I'm not sure what I'd do if I were given the terrible luxury of time to prepare my two daughters for my own passing. Goody told her sons that they could look to the sky and find her there, a star to watch over them. Hearing that, it was impossible not to think about what I'd say to my girls. It's like the unexplainable urge to put your finger right into the blue center of a candle flame. Horrible and irresistible.
But another week of work, school projects and laundry is already upon us; it won't be long before we forget Richardson and Goody. That's perhaps one blessing of having young children. The struggle to simply keep up with the everyday doesn't leave much time for fretting over hypotheticals. Still, I am going to finally make an appointment for a long overdue checkup. I'll do it for my kids. And I'll be thinking about Richardson's and Goody's children as I do it.
So yeah, I am going to go for the surgery. And keep all my medical appointments. For Sprong.
Why I do What I do (On Days That I Forget and am Miserable and think that I want to Float Away)
From the fabulous Jacqueline Novogratz
"I think there are lots of different paths and that the path isn’t always clear, but you just should start; that work will teach you; and that I can’t imagine a more joyful way of living than a life when where you are serving in the spirit as equally of adventure as you are of change"
Thoughts for interminable days.
At the end of the day, I persevere because I truly believe in my body of work. A personal and professional commitment that guides my thoughts and decisions. Even on doggone days. Yeah, lots of those lately.
"I think there are lots of different paths and that the path isn’t always clear, but you just should start; that work will teach you; and that I can’t imagine a more joyful way of living than a life when where you are serving in the spirit as equally of adventure as you are of change"
Thoughts for interminable days.
At the end of the day, I persevere because I truly believe in my body of work. A personal and professional commitment that guides my thoughts and decisions. Even on doggone days. Yeah, lots of those lately.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Mama Gets Her Groove Back
Last year, I was a terrible friend. I didn't reply emails, forgot birthdays and never kept in touch much. Just because I had a baby.
Yes, I became one of those women, who was always dishelleved, always late, always never kept an appointment, cancelled the book club invite, didn't go for her high school reunion, was more interested in her baby's burping habits than talking about poverty/death/war.
My insularity bugged me and made me want to scream but in a way, I think it was a necessary process.
Now, I am reconnecting and want to thank my friends for being so patient with me.
XXXX
Current reads:
January: The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini , The Calcutta Chromosome by Amitave Ghosh
Feb: The Audacity of Hope by Barack Obama
Yes, I became one of those women, who was always dishelleved, always late, always never kept an appointment, cancelled the book club invite, didn't go for her high school reunion, was more interested in her baby's burping habits than talking about poverty/death/war.
My insularity bugged me and made me want to scream but in a way, I think it was a necessary process.
Now, I am reconnecting and want to thank my friends for being so patient with me.
XXXX
Current reads:
January: The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini , The Calcutta Chromosome by Amitave Ghosh
Feb: The Audacity of Hope by Barack Obama
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
08 The Year in Books
January
Sons and Mothers by Colm Toibin
Growing Up in Terengganu by Awang Goneng
The Gathering by Anne Enright
The Gift of Rain by Tan Twan Eng
The Shock Doctrine by Naomi Klein
In the Country of Men by Hisham Mather
My Antonia by Willa Cather
Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts (lyrical but still unfinished)
January 29- May 6: Sprong pops out. No reading unless The Baby Bible aka The American Academy of Pediatrics counts
June
New Complete Baby and Todler Meal Planner by Annabel Karmel
123 Brain Games for Baby by Jackie Silberg
Evening is the Whole Day by Preeta Samarasan
July
How Children Learn by John Holt (Unfinished)
Empire's of Profit by Daniel Litivin
August
Oct - mid Dec
I start work so hardly any reading for pleasure unless Newsweek and the Financial Times count
Current
Trying to read The Audacity of Hope by Barack Obama
Sons and Mothers by Colm Toibin
Growing Up in Terengganu by Awang Goneng
The Gathering by Anne Enright
The Gift of Rain by Tan Twan Eng
The Shock Doctrine by Naomi Klein
In the Country of Men by Hisham Mather
My Antonia by Willa Cather
Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts (lyrical but still unfinished)
January 29- May 6: Sprong pops out. No reading unless The Baby Bible aka The American Academy of Pediatrics counts
June
New Complete Baby and Todler Meal Planner by Annabel Karmel
123 Brain Games for Baby by Jackie Silberg
Evening is the Whole Day by Preeta Samarasan
July
How Children Learn by John Holt (Unfinished)
Empire's of Profit by Daniel Litivin
August
Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri
How Babies Talk : The Magic and Mystery of Language in the First Three Years of Life: Roberta Michnick Golinkoff, Kathy Hirsh-PasekOct - mid Dec
I start work so hardly any reading for pleasure unless Newsweek and the Financial Times count
Current
Trying to read The Audacity of Hope by Barack Obama
Thursday, September 04, 2008
snap out of it
hrmph...am burrowing further and further in a downward spiral. snap out of it jane sunshine. tomorrow is another day.
btw, how come it's already september?
btw, how come it's already september?
Friday, May 16, 2008
Blessed (again and again and again)
Last Tuesday, I sat for a while at a pub in Holborn, gathering my thoughts. I watched the shuffling crowd, entangled in the after office rush. A few minutes ago, I had stood on the grey pavement with a giddiness that made me want to slump. I felt emptied out, knackered beyond belief.
When the panel congratulated me, it didn't quite sink in. It still hasn't I think. What is a culmination of a lifetime's work seemed to have pirouetted into this one singular moment. So, I can now sign off as Dr. Sunshine.
Afterwards, surrounded by some of the loveliest of friends who came together to celebrate, I had to ask what is it that I had done to receive such benevolence.
To the universe for conspiring to bring such goodness in one fabulous year. Thank you, thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart.
When the panel congratulated me, it didn't quite sink in. It still hasn't I think. What is a culmination of a lifetime's work seemed to have pirouetted into this one singular moment. So, I can now sign off as Dr. Sunshine.
Afterwards, surrounded by some of the loveliest of friends who came together to celebrate, I had to ask what is it that I had done to receive such benevolence.
To the universe for conspiring to bring such goodness in one fabulous year. Thank you, thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Top 10 books of all time
I hate lists of all kinds. I am one of those persons who goes grocery shopping without a list and always forgets the garlic/tomatoes/coriander (and ends up coming home with a horseradish). I am the one who forgets the toothbrush on the weekend away because she didn't make a list. In my final year exam in law school, I forgot to bring the Criminal Procedure Code and realized too late that I should have made a list the night before of all the things to take into the exam hall (one of the lecturers had an extra copy, no doubt in anticipation of nuts like myself).
I know people who make major decisions in life by sitting down and drawing a line marking Pros and Cons on a paper or computer. They are able to make life altering decisions based on such a list. I envy the method and precision that goes into such a task because it is something that eludes me. Most of the biggest decisions I make are ones that remain a congealed mess in my mind until I just decide.
I tried to do it once. I wanted to follow the rational and sensible path. Should I make the big career change that I wanted? A list will get me there, I thought. But as I drew the dividing line with a black marker on a fresh paper, I knew deep down that what I wanted would not be the most sensible thing to do. To leave a well paying job with all the prospects for the great unknown? I didn't know if what I wanted would make me happy or if it was right or where things would head after that. In all probability making a list would urge me to do otherwise. But in the hinterland of my heart, I knew what I wanted. I threw the piece of paper away.
I am a resolute non-list maker married to an assiduous one. The ever methodical M has lists for everything including a master list for travel which is filed according to event-weekend away, annual trip, short trips. I am kind of used to it though-I grew up with a whole load of Virgoans who made lists for everything under the sun.
It didn't daunt me then when Sharon Bakar put her loyal readers (me! me!) to task with the Star challenge for their Top 10 favourite books of all time. Here's mine:
The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway
I tried to do it once. I wanted to follow the rational and sensible path. Should I make the big career change that I wanted? A list will get me there, I thought. But as I drew the dividing line with a black marker on a fresh paper, I knew deep down that what I wanted would not be the most sensible thing to do. To leave a well paying job with all the prospects for the great unknown? I didn't know if what I wanted would make me happy or if it was right or where things would head after that. In all probability making a list would urge me to do otherwise. But in the hinterland of my heart, I knew what I wanted. I threw the piece of paper away.
I am a resolute non-list maker married to an assiduous one. The ever methodical M has lists for everything including a master list for travel which is filed according to event-weekend away, annual trip, short trips. I am kind of used to it though-I grew up with a whole load of Virgoans who made lists for everything under the sun.
It didn't daunt me then when Sharon Bakar put her loyal readers (me! me!) to task with the Star challenge for their Top 10 favourite books of all time. Here's mine:
The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway
Lolita by Vladimir Nabakov
One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera
Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy
Midnight's Children by Salman Rushdie
Possession by A.S.Byatt
The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro
Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce
Midnight's Children by Salman Rushdie
Possession by A.S.Byatt
The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro
Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce
The Catcher in the Rye by JD Salinger
There are a few must haves on the list like Old Man, Lolita, One Hundred Years of Solitude and Anna Karenina. Beyond that, Catcher in the Rye may be a bit esoteric but if it has touched so many young people and continues to do so, surely it must feature? Midnight's Children because it changed the feel, sound and soul of English as a language.
Portrait of the Artist was tossed around with other stream of consciousness novels notably To the Lighthouse but I chose this simply because it is my personal favourite. The Unbearable Lightness of Being had to be mentioned, being a paean to post-modernism. Possession because of its mastery and expanse. And the one book that leads me into the heart of nobility and restraint -The Remains of the Day.
There are a few must haves on the list like Old Man, Lolita, One Hundred Years of Solitude and Anna Karenina. Beyond that, Catcher in the Rye may be a bit esoteric but if it has touched so many young people and continues to do so, surely it must feature? Midnight's Children because it changed the feel, sound and soul of English as a language.
Portrait of the Artist was tossed around with other stream of consciousness novels notably To the Lighthouse but I chose this simply because it is my personal favourite. The Unbearable Lightness of Being had to be mentioned, being a paean to post-modernism. Possession because of its mastery and expanse. And the one book that leads me into the heart of nobility and restraint -The Remains of the Day.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Spring Again
"Suffering is not holding you. You are holding suffering. When you become good at the art of letting sufferings go, then you'll come to realize how unnecessary it was for you to drag those burdens around with you. You'll see that no one else other than you was responsible. The truth is that existence wants your life to become a festival."
-Osho
-Osho
Spring brings with it renewed vigour, succour for the maligned heart and always, hope. The weather has been erratic but there have been days, even weeks, of glorious, honeyed sunshine. Spring's largess is the rebirth of colour after the grey starkness of the winter months.
Spring days are ones that are beautifully warm as you wake up. 'It's a T-shirt and skirt day', I decide, and throw in a flimsy cardi for good measure as I head out to the high street. A few hours later, the deception is done and I have foolishly fallen for it. The wind nips my nose. I shiver and cling on to the sorry excuse of a cardi and rush home freezing.
The evenings stave dusk away a little longer. The lightness is filtered with a prism of scents emanating from the garden, cajoling me to stop work and just be. The unfurling leaves and peeping flowers are a riotous medley. What have I done to be bequeathed days as beautiful as these?
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Pause Mode and Weird Things
Life has been on pause mode for awhile now. You think it's a mad, crazy race. And then one day it gets on pause mode. Just like that.
But unpause now.
XXXXX
So, I must get around to this 6 weird thing meme that has been plastered on almost every blog. Thank god I got tagged- I dawned on me that what if nobody tags me (although I don't like tags)- does that reflect on my unpopularity in blogworld? Goodness. Almost feels like school again. But some nice people ie Blabs and Demonsinme did tag me and have therefore done my list:
1 The imaginary parallel lives I tend to live sometimes is quite mind boggling. Yesterday for example, I wondered how delectable it would be to live with Nigel Slater. I have a feeling that he is a bit of solitary nut, more in love with plants and his kitchen then people but how joyous would every meal be! It's not only about the taste but about the pure love for food. My recurring parallel-life dream is to be good friends with Zadie Smith, where we sit and have coffee in dinky little cafes while discussing our mutual love for Antonio Gramsci. I know. This one is weird-pathetic.
2 . I have certain food related weirdness. We all know that the grand food love of my love is the humble, hawker fare-char kueh teow. I can eat a plate everyday and never tire of it. I always order the whole she-bag, cockles, prawns and bean sprout or taugeh. Yet, before eating, I would sit and pick out every single strand of taugeh in sight. Only then will I tuck in. The aversion to taugeh started because I had an allergic reaction to it as a child. I think I've worn out of the allergy now but the ritual remains. 'Why not just order sans taugeh?' asks an exasperated M each time. 'But that would mean detracting the taste' I argue back, not very convincingly I think.
3. This one is weird bordering on obsessive compulsive-with minyak cap kapak...how do I describe it to non-Malaysians? Basically its a eucalyptus oil type of thing which has calming properties-I use it for headaches, tummy aches, backaches and even when there are no aches, I need a dash of eau de Minyak Cap Kapak everyday. What can I say?
2 . I have certain food related weirdness. We all know that the grand food love of my love is the humble, hawker fare-char kueh teow. I can eat a plate everyday and never tire of it. I always order the whole she-bag, cockles, prawns and bean sprout or taugeh. Yet, before eating, I would sit and pick out every single strand of taugeh in sight. Only then will I tuck in. The aversion to taugeh started because I had an allergic reaction to it as a child. I think I've worn out of the allergy now but the ritual remains. 'Why not just order sans taugeh?' asks an exasperated M each time. 'But that would mean detracting the taste' I argue back, not very convincingly I think.
3. This one is weird bordering on obsessive compulsive-with minyak cap kapak...how do I describe it to non-Malaysians? Basically its a eucalyptus oil type of thing which has calming properties-I use it for headaches, tummy aches, backaches and even when there are no aches, I need a dash of eau de Minyak Cap Kapak everyday. What can I say?
4. I have to read every night before sleeping. I know I read a lot of work related stuff the whole day but I absolutely have to read on the bed. However dead exhausted I am. At least for 5 minutes. Otherwise, I feel that I've wasted my day away.
5. A personal hygiene related weirdness is this need to wash hands. I am very particular about the hand wash we use at home and have tested most products in the market to tell you that I don't think any of it meets my stringent requirements. Yes, I probably wash hands more times a day than I care to admit and carry one of those spray on hand cleaning things whenever I travel.
6. Talking about travel, I am always a last minute traveler. I think I am programmed to be unable to pack early so no matter how much time I have, will pack a few hours before leaving. This does mean that I am always rushing to airports and sprinting to boarding gates. The record was 30 minutes before take off once on a Malaysia airline flight to Bangalore. Trust me, I lost all dignity running around like a banshee to get there. And I never learn I think.
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