From Argentina to India to me

Docu-Madrid (a 2-week documentary film festival) has just started and yesterday Boyfriend and I watched 5 films -- yes we totally doc-ed out! :)

My favourite was one called Fotografías, which is the autobiographical story of an Argentinean man who has an Indian mother. His mother ran away from her traditional, suppressed household to be free and see the world; she landed up marrying an Argentinean man and moving there.

Her life in India prohibited her as a women from doing anything, it represented her imprisoned life and she wanted to be as far away from it as possible, both physically and mentally -- so unfortunately while his mother was alive, he was never really exposed to India.

The movie is his quest to discover his mother's life in India, understand her legacy, and explore his Indian bloodline. His story begins in Argentina as he looks through childhood photos, speaks to an Indian guru living in Buenos Aires, and studies the life of an Hispanic author who was the first Argentinean man to go to India in 1911. He speaks to everyone who knew his mother, and befriends an Argentinean who spends most of his time in India as a tour guide.

With this background and many a told stories, he heads Madras in India, to see his mother's birthplace and reconnect with that side of his family.

The film documents the story of this Argentinean man, who because of his mixed-blood and estranged family in India, is lost about the other half of his identity. Realizing his ignorance and wanting to find a part of his identity he knows nothing about, triggers his endeavors to fill the gaps by finding his mother's side of the family, therefore finding himself in some way.

His story is beautifully told, full of emotions ranging from feelings of emptiness and confusion that lead to deep curiousity, resulting in him finding a life of his he never knew existed. He unravels his story, layer by layer, and takes you on this mysterious journey that begins in Argentina, dips deep into traditional India, and ends up back in Argentina. His discoveries give him a new family, a new understanding of his mother, and of his Indian bloodline.

Although my life story is not remotely mysterious, nor confusing, as and Indian who has lived in 5-countries over 28 years, I could relate to his identity-crisis. Not knowing enough about where you come from or where you belong, can often leave you perpetually drifting, and sometimes even hollow. You don't know what to be patriotic about, you can't relate clearly to your home-place: you know you belong there, but you are not sure what you'd do if you had to move back there...things like that.

The film made me want to go back to India and travel. I have traveled a lot of the world, but not enough of my own country, that's quite sad. It's funny how I don't feel like I belong in India, nor am I patriotic -- yet I am proud of my country, I feel Indian, and I take it for granted, yet I don't really know enough about my country, not physically, not historically. Everything in my mind is confused about my "Motherland". My only solid connection is my family there and my memories from high-school in Aurangabad -- a small town near Pune.

Anyway, I'm delving into a subject that doesn't really have a conclusion, nor does it need one. Exploring my country should be the next priority on my list of things to do -- that should take care of many things, no?

Off to Prague!

Am off to Prague for the next 5-days -- a much needed break from Madrid and my computer!

Stories when I get back!

How Important Is Blogging For Your Career As A Travel-Writer?

This is the latest subject of discussion at Written Road. I was lucky to get some great input from some of the best travel-bloggers/writers/editors/authors in the industry. Check it out here!

Quote for the day

"The world is what it is; men who are nothing, who allow themselves to become nothing, have no place in it." -- A Bend in the River; 1979 novel by V. S. Naipaul.

Ouch.

Career Advice From A Manga Comic

A short attention span is the main peril in the quest of trying to achieve anything these days, at least for me.

My attention span these days is a whole 15 seconds; if you can't keep my attention for that long when telling me something, I'm mentally off to Neverland. If I care about you, I'll make the effort to listen, but otherwise -- forget it.

Same goes for reading (books, online), movies, studying, planning, what have you. This is not helpful at all, and is seriously affecting my productivity -- especially because what I do is on my terms. The pressure I have is from me, and only me, so it's not hard to prolong things, or simply invent a million things to do to keep yourself mentally stimulated. This is a problem I'm working to fix. Avoiding multitasking, making short concise lists of things to do etc etc, are my baby steps towards getting things done by paying focused attention to them until they are done.

Anyway, I digress. I had to laugh when I saw on Amazon books, career advice for those with a short attention span. It was a consolation realizing that I'm definitely not the only one and better off than others; I'd actually read a good career book in full, without it having to be a comic. Obviously many can't even do that, hence a market for this book.

The promo for the book written in form of a Japanese Manga comic made me chuckle, this is how it ends:

In the 70's and 80's, people asked "What Colour Is Your Parachute?"
In the 90's, people asked "Who Moved My Cheese?
Now a new generation is asking the question about their work: "WTF?"

The book is called "The Adventures of Johnny Bunko: The Last Career Guide You'll Ever Need", check it out along with its promo, here.

Just what every woman wants to hear...

"A man can be happy with any woman as long as he does not love her."
-- Oscar Wilde.

Some quotes should just not be allowed to get famous.

Does blogging kill?

Well, I certainly hope not.

If there is any job description you can give me, it's that of a blogger. That's what I am, that's really all I do. I've just started blogging for another site called Planet Eye, that will make it a total of 6 sites I blog for regularly (including mine).

Across all, I churn out at least 50 posts a month -- at the end of which many times I just want to scream, or pick up my laptop and throw it out the window. The latter I can't afford to do at the moment :)

But anyway, a friend sent me a link today with the subject "be careful". The link pointed to a story in the NY Times that reports a feature on the death of two prolific bloggers, and the unhealthy lifestyles of other well-known bloggers.

Of course, blogging cannot be called the cause of death but the lifestyle it warrants is unhealthy enough to cause serious mental and physical problems.

Blogging can often get the better of you. I have spent days locked in my room blogging and felt the depressing side-effects of it. It is a lonely, isolating, tedious, and often frustrating profession.

The only way to stay sane as a blogger is to not compromise on social activities, but when you get paid per post, it's hard not to just stay in and write instead -- after all you do need to pay bills.

I'm happy to say that although I do fall into that trap sometimes, I'm good at dragging myself to go out, even if it's on my own. You'll find that being away from your computer and socializing will give you small bursts of very productive time blogging. I'm out with people at least 3-4 times a week, and at least once on the weekend. I hate teaching English, but it gets me out and makes me speak to people, a good paid break from the computer screen. I play sport, run and salsa to keep me physically healthy.

So, I'm not worried about "dying as a blogger". It's probably because I'm not as addicted or obsessed with it like many others. Also, although I thoroughly enjoy blogging (probably because I do it in large but controlled doses), over this year I have realized that I cannot be a full-time blogger. I don't love my computer enough and am far too much of a social being. This article, nonetheless was an interesting read, one that every blogger will be able to relate to.

Fellow bloggers: be careful!

Aamir Khan's Blog?

As I was updating myself on the China-Tibet issue I stumbled upon Aamir Khan's blog today (he's one of the torch bearers for the Olympic games). Now, I have stumbled upon many celebrity blogs -- both Indian and international -- but they have obviously been blogs for pure PR purposes, most definitely written by people hired to blog on their behalf. That's enough to never want to go back to them.

But when I saw Aamir Khan's blog today, I read a good number of posts and you know what? -- I ACTUALLY THINK IT'S HIM!

He writes like he speaks, he gives life updates that could only come from him, he has spelling mistakes (surely a paid writer wouldn't DARE have typos if he was writing for AAMIR KHAN!), and he has over a 500 comments on every post he has written.

I'm trying to think why I got so excited about this discovery. Aamir Khan is one of my favourite Indian actors; not only is he a phenomenal artist but is also an active social worker who has more often than not, used his fame to make a difference in needy societies. He has a strong and powerful personality that particularly shines through because in public he is very down to earth, he doesn't act like he is a hotshot superstar.

So, I suppose the fact that I can now read stuff that seems like it's totally written by him(?) got me looming.

If any of you have time and the remote desire to help me figure this out, can you read his blog and tell me if you think it's real? Or is it just a great attempt by Aamir Khan's PA?

El Canto Del Loco new disc launch

Yesterday I went to my first press conference as a journalist. It was for the launch of El Canto Del Loco's (one of Spain's most popular pop boy bands) new album - so it was obviously a big and "important" one.

I have probably organized and attended 15o press conferences, but only as a public relations professional, it felt strange being on the other side.

But honestly, it's so much better attending a press conference as opposed to organizing one. I felt like that one hour I was at the conference was worth it because I was there to listen and to learn about something new; after which I'd have to write about it and I would be a mouthpiece for what I saw and grasped.

It also put into perspective what I did when I was in public relations. So many hours of work for one simple press conference: designing and producing press packs, writing and translating the press releases and backgrounders, photographs for the press packs, captions for the press packs, venue set up, venue branding, podium, mics, projector, teleprompters, menu for the event, press invites, press confirmations, press list, follow-up calls etc etc -- all that work for something that wouldn't last more than an hour and leave me wondering, what was all that for exactly?

I felt like a princess at this press conference. I was there for my brain, as a guest -- what I do with the experience afterwards is up to me -- it was strangely empowering and I felt better after that hour than I ever have after any press conference I've organized. Weird huh?

Anyway, those who care to know about El Canto Del Loco -- they were really pleasant, down to earth, and approachable for how big they are. I was shocked that it started on time -- something that rarely happens in celebrity conferences. They were happily mingling with the crowd after -- you could get all the kisses, autographs and photos you wanted. All the press -- print, TV, and radio alike -- got all the footage, photos and quotes they wanted, with no hassle or drama at all. I went on behalf of European Vibe and will be doing my write-up soon.

I wanna go to The Next Web Conference!

In my quest as a prolific blogger to become a more efficient one and get my geek juices flowing more vigourously, as I look for web conferences out of pure curiousity, I was thrilled to find one in Europe for a change!

April 3 and 4 (shucks, that's like NOW), The Next Web Conference will be held in Amsterdam. They have an orgasmic list of speakers, who are mainly incredibly talented web entrepreneurs, including:

• Garret Camp: Founder and Chief Architect of Stumble Upon!
• Erick Schonfeld:Formerly editor-at-large at Business 2.0 and currently co-editor at Techcrunch.com.
• Werner Vogels: Chief Technology Officer and Vice President of Amazon.com
• Jessicah Mah: A 17 year old serial entrepreneur, blogger, and sophomore in college.

It's an expensive conference but, in support of bloggers, they have a blogger's discount (YAAAAY) which I'm desperately trying to get, and if I do -- I'M GOING TO TAKE THE NEXT FLIGHT OUT TO AMSTERDAM!

Well, probably not. The discount is for industry bloggers, argh, but oh well -- no harm trying, eh?

All I need to do is write a post (which is this) put a badge (which you can see on this post) and email "babette"(I have no idea who that is so I'm going to email some Patrick instead).

I'm pushing my luck, but if you are a tech blogger in Europe and want 500 bucks off the conference pass, you still might be able to get it.

My story of trying to be a travel-writer...

...in case any of you are interested, I have posted my katha here.

Calling all Indian bloggers!

I 'm pretty impressed with the budding blogging scene in India. Wait a minute, is it budding? I find that hard to believe, India being the technology capital of the world and all. I don't know why but I perceive that blogging in India is relatively in its nascent stages as compared to the so called "international" scene. I think I feel that because I don't see many quality blogs, nor do I see much integration of India-based blogs on popular international pages such as Technorati, Del.icio.us., Stumble Upon, Twitter etc -- but then again, maybe I haven't been paying enough attention.

Anyhoo, there are numerous attention grabbing Indian blogs, but the two that stick out for me are a)Sepia Mutiny b) Mutiny. Fine writing, intelligent and knowledgeable insight, and witty. It's the kind of stuff I'd like to write. I'm just so all over the place at the moment I doubt I'd be able to give grounded commentary like they do, but then again, I've never tried. (Maybe I will write them and see my chances hmmm). A must read for any Indian -- do check them out if you haven't already.

On that note, I thought I'd mention the India Blogathon that begins next month. As it aims to bring together Indian bloggers from all over the world to talk about issues affecting us locally and globally, I'm quite excited to see what comes of it and have all intentions to participate.

It's a 7-day event where a certain topic will be posted every day. You can participate by leaving a comment or re-posting an entry with respect to the topic on your own blog, and the best bloggers will be identified by a jury (not yet announced). Details are a little sketchy on their website, but it's really simple, you don't need much more information.

Happy Indie blogging! :P

Bacon-Chocolate Cake

Is there something wrong with me if I find this extremely appetizing?

[Via American Madness]

Spooky Post

Two of my best friends who send me post and gifts EVERY month are Sanitas (my medical insurance) and Bancaja (my bank).

Also, since I've started writing for so many blogs, I often get emails from writers/publishers who would like to send me books (for free!) to enjoy (and of course review -- but that's my call). I send them my details and within a week I normally get a package.

Receiving expected post is great. Receiving unexpected post is AWESOME! (hint hint to all those people I religiously send postcards to). Except when it comes from a company you don't know.

Yesterday a book called "A Voyage Long And Strange'' by Tony Horwitz came knocking at my door. First I was ecstatic to receive a package; I opened it excitedly to see it was a book, I then impatiently opened the letter to see who it was from and was more annoyed than happy to see that it was from Henry Holt and Company in New York.

It's a good publishing house, the author is well known, and the book looks interesting -- BUT HOW DID THEY GET MY DETAILS? In Spain!?

I guess I shouldn't be surprised. My life is an open book. Google me and you can trace me back to my school days. However, I don't remember making my postal address in Spain public. I suppose my details were sold and I can't help but feel so vulnerable: people I don't know in NY, know exactly where I live in Spain and are sending me stuff to my doorstep.

On a positive note, it's a travel book not a free subscription to porn so I'm not too worried. Also, the book will hit the market on April 29 this year, so I'm one of the privileged lot to get my hands on it. That's pretty cool.

A reason why I love my brother...

Bro: Didi, what's that salsa song that was always played in salsa class that goes "Sexy...na...naaa...na...naaa"?

Me: Huh. Are you serious?

Bro: DIDI! how can you not know -- how many English salsa songs exist with "sexy" in the lyrics!?

Me: Urrr....a million!

Bro: Oh, Ok.

Anish, you crack me up :))) [note: this was a typed conversation!]

How long should you travel and live abroad?

I've talked about this to death with my family: answer? It's time to go back to University, as a means of getting back to a "normal" life. That's what I'm working towards (eeeeeekkkkk), let's see what I actually land up doing.

Dad, would you freak out if I decide to move to the Dominican Republic where I will open a little bar and write? OK OK relax, I am still studying for my GRE :)

This is the subject of my latest post at Vagablogging. A little discussion has started, you can check it out here.

GO AWAY FACE!

Is anyone as annoyed as I am with this face? I SEE IT EVERYWHERE ONLINE. EVERYWHERE!!

What it's like to fall in love with an assassin

This is by far the best story I have read in a while. War photo-journalist Jason P Howe travels to Colombia on a mission to document images that would narrate the country's political history bound by terrorism. He falls in love with a Colombian woman who turns out to be a cold-blooded killer.
[Excerpt]:

"The woman I had only recently begun sleeping with was a hired killer and there was a gun on my bedside table.High on a combination of the heady tropical climate, local rum, grade A cocaine and in the arms of nubile 22-year-old, fantasy and reality became blurred. It felt like I was living in a Quentin Tarantino movie."

Truth is far more interesting than fiction, it's a shame that so many stories remain untold. This one is beautifully written and the blatantness of the story gave me goose bumps. A must read.
A movie is planned and his book "Colombia Between the Lines" will be out this Spring.

Howe's photography from Colombia, Lebanon, Iraq, Afghanistan and Kurdistan is phenomenal too, you can see his work here.

Walking 9000-miles without money...

...is Mark Boyle's execution of the Freeconomy Movement -- a movement that is working on creating a world without money. This is the topic of my latest post at Vagablogging. Check it out here.

Japanese "We Are The World"

I haven't been able to stop watching this video. Check it out here!

Quote of the day

" The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!”
--- Jack Kerouac

A blog bit of melodrama

Today I woke up nice and early, ready to work, ready to seize the day. I opened my computer and started looking at my RSS feeds and burst out crying. I'm not PMS-ing, nothing cry-worthy has happened.

I hate it when I get emotional for no good reason. It makes me more upset than the actual reason for which I may be crying. My persistent efforts to remind myself how lucky I am and how strong I am (or should be) help me not complain about anything and reinforce that I have no reason to be upset. Over the last year or so, I have been a sponge, absorbing many strenuous conversations of friends with "real" issues; issues in light of which my "issues" are so stupid.

So if I feel low I don't really let anyone know; putting things in perspective makes me feel ludicrous about my emotions. I lift myself up by realizing that compared to other people's mountain size problems, my so called problems are not even the size of an ant. So I shut them down and distract myself by taking a walk or going dancing.

I think that mindset, although most of the time holds, occasionally cracks to reveal a weak and vulnerable me, a me that I feel has no right or reason to surface, a me that I'm embarrassed to show to friends, a me that only my family will understand.

To add to that, what I think is only now rising from deep inside my subconscious is: nothing I am doing in my life really matters. Not to me, not to the people in my life, not to the world. All my time and energy is being spent unwisely; my ability to contribute, my immense capability to give, is being wasted.

It's a strange feeling of being deep and hollow at the same time. I don't like it. I don't want to talk about it. As is stands, it's frivolous and until I can add more context to it or come up with a solution, it's a pointless conversation.

All these ridiculous and uncalled for emotions have resulted in me being selfish with the strangers or acquaintances I have been meeting these days. Just like I'm selfish when I write on this blog.

It's easier to let your guard down with random people because you really don't care how they feel (you hardly know them), and they -- for some reason -- want to know how you feel. It is them whose time you are willing to take without worrying about the time you give them. How messed up is that.

I suppose, as I've written about before, sometimes you just need a cry.

Anyway, I feel better after writing this. To anyone who has bothered to read through -- thank you. Now I will get back to work.

Bamboozled again by Richard Branson...

...as he comes up with a coconut-oil and algae solution for cleaner skies.

I love this man.

Frivolous Cravings

The plan for 2008 was to notch-up the content of my blog. I have a few readers who I bombard with my mindless rants, so I thought it's high time I write on topics of more consequence.

The more I think of that, the more frivolous posts come to my mind, many of which I have been avoiding. With the million things I need to get my mind into, a blog with regular earth-shattering content does not seem likely -- so in the mean time I will continue with the meaningless points I regularly bring to this blog.

I'm embarrassed to say that the two things that I have not been able to get my mind off these days is Cherry Ripe and Bisto Gravy. Not hunger in Africa nor the state of street children India, but a chocolate and meat gravy have been occupying my thoughts.

For those of you who don't know what Cherry Ripe is: it's the world's best dark, cherry, coconut, and rum filled chocolate. Actually, it doesn't have rum, but the cherries are so fermented and their mixture with dark chocolate give it a strong taste of alcohol. Rumour has it that if you eat a bar and take a breath test, it will come positive for alcohol. Seriously! It used to be my staple breakfast when I lived in Australia; it is, sadly, not sold outside the country. I had an Ozzie friend in Dubai who would annually bring me back a dozen extra-large bars of Cherry Ripe. Pure, cheap, joy. Sigh.

Another craving that began in winter is for Bisto gravy. Yes, instant, chemical-filled, brown powder that when mixed with hot water turns into thick, delicious gravy. In the UK and in Dubai, our cabinet always had Bisto gravy. Other than with steak, vegetables and mash potatoes, I would eat it with the chicken from my mum's Vindaloo, rice, bread, and noodles. I LOVE Bisto gravy and am shocked that it is not available in Madrid.

When I go to Dubai this time, I will bring back Bisto gravy. Cherry Ripe *deep sigh* I'm just gonna have to live without. Life is tough, eh?

Varying Perspectives

Sarina: Hey, Abha! How was your birthday? What did you do?

Me: You know me, not a birthday person. Was quiet and nice, Chinese food with boyfriend, nothing special. How was your birthday? What did you do?

Sarina: Ah nothing much either. Quiet and nice, I went to the Maldives with boyfriend, nothing special.

Me: Right.

Oh universal energy that surrounds me, don't ever let me be so inappreciatively blah about things.

Perspectives: Homeless in Madrid

I spent my afternoon yesterday walking around Madrid city centre with a group of people, distributing sandwiches to the city's homeless.

I went with much ganas. Prepared to feel a lump in my throat, prepared to listen to terrible life stories, prepared to give them time and a smile.

Although I appreciate my life, I often feel that I lose perspective as to exactly how lucky I am; small, stupid problems often get the better of me for no good reason, so I also took this as a personal exercise to regain perspectives.

Run by Kelly, the activity falls under a group called Oasis (although affiliated to a church, you are not expected to be or do anything religious to participate) whose unofficial motto is "make poverty personal".

The idea came from the fact that in Madrid, there are enough social services and charities that take care of basic needs: food, clothing and temporary shelter, but nobody takes the effort to relate to the homeless, talk to them, build friendships. This is their focus that has the ultimate goal of getting them off the streets. Talking and building relationships gives them dignity and encouragement to feel normal and perhaps motivate them towards a better life. Awesome people, great intentions, a beautiful thought.

The group has a route across the centre and they know all the homeless they meet by first name, that was heartwarming to see. A bag with sandwiches, juice, fruit and a muffin is an excuse to approach them.

What was interesting about my experience was that I felt everything but sympathy towards these homeless people. Majority of them were smart, literate and physically fit -- no good reason to be on the street.

For instance: there was an ex-chef, Spaniard who lived in London for 10 years and spoke fluent English with a posh accent; a Cuban dude who has traveled the world, who was capable of having a political conversation and talked to me about Rabindranath Tagore; and a middle-aged lady with a mentally ill husband who had the audacity to ask us for a fragrant soap for her face!

A handful of them had no interest in our sandwiches. "We are not hungry now" was the main reason. What about dinner?

Of course, I understand that nobody wants to be on the street and their personal reasons as to why they are I may never comprehend, but I couldn't help thinking that these people aren't helpless -- they choose to be so. This shut me down. Although the thought behind the activity is wonderful, were we only encouraging these people to stay on the street?

I know this is probably not justified, but I couldn't help comparing the situation to that of India. In India poverty is real to a disgusting, tummy-churning extent. With over 700 million people below the poverty line, everyone can't get jobs and there aren't enough social services. Of these people, majority live in slums, some of them beg (they are normally children, suffering from leprosy, or dying of disease) but most of them who are physically capable, don't. They are all illiterate.

Coming back to Madrid, there was the odd person who the system had royally fucked: a couple from Bulgaria who came to Spain to make money so they can get their son operated. Nobody was ready to give them a job here as their papers were not in order, nor did they have enough money to sort them out. They tried for about 2-years; now they are on the street with no money to eat, let alone go back. There was also a dude from the Czech Republic who claimed that all his money, ID and belongings had been stolen. He didn't speak a word of Spanish or English, jobs were therefore impossible, so he had no option but to beg until he got enough money to head back to his country. He's going to be around for a long time!

What shocked me was the one guy I thought was the most helpless of them all (he has no hands, they are cut off from his shoulder), didn't want to talk to us, nor take our food. He earned a living begging by rattling a glass in his mouth and anytime spent not doing that was compromising his earnings.

All in all, I was left befuddled after this exercise. I didn't care about their plight, as to me, most of them were capable of fixing their situation. Their comfort with being reliant on social services and the thought that they probably have no intention of getting off the street -- laziness, habit, old-age, whatever -- made me not want to help them.

Maybe I'm being harsh. Maybe I'm from a culture that is not letting me empathize with these people. I'm quite delicate at heart, so my rigid and cold reaction to this was surprising to me.

I think the efforts and intentions of Oasis are fantastic, I truly wish them all the best. If their work can help get even one person off the street (which it has in the past), it's all worth it. However, I don't see myself going back.

US$40 for a bottle of water?

If you can see yourself paying this for water, there is something seriously f***ed up with you.

It's possible to make $100K as a writer...

...it needs to be treated as a business.

A good dose from Science Fiction writer John Scalzi who made $164,000 writing in 2007.

It's the subject of my latest post on Written Road -- check it out here.

Bush may move to Dubai?

Today's Gulf News says: "Sources close to the planning of the presidential trip reveal that Bush instantly fell in love with Dubai. He even alluded to the possibility of perhaps moving to the city as part of his White House plans."

Did anyone else catch this snippet of information while he was in Dubai? Did you have a reaction?

Anyway it's probably the most insignificant line in the entire article that focuses on Dubai's political neutrality, but I couldn't help imagine the possibility.

He would probably live a precious life in Dubai. I see him sipping expensive bubbly at the Bush Tent of the Dubai World Cup; with VIP seating at the Tennis Open, having countless photos with the Sheikhs; on page two of Gulf News business section playing golfing at the Montgomery; on the cover of Ahlan! as he decides to spend a night at Trilogy; running the Dubai Marathon; chief guest for sport's day at Choueifat International School; skiing down the slopes of the Dubai snowdome at Emirates Mall with a santa hat; smoking sheesha on a terrace at the Madinat; and being spokesperson for the American Hospital.

He would take up much space in the newspapers, so the Khaleej Times will come out with a weekly supplement called the Bush Times. Then 7-Days will come out with another one called the Bush-Basher.

He would drive the Lincoln Navigator. (Yaay, Ford -- weren't you always looking for an ambassador in the country?)

Blissful retirement refuge in luxury I'd say.

(Okok ridiculous line of thought. Will get back to work now)

Google.Org, Gandhi and Social Capitalism

I was wondering when Google will sprout with a philanthropic angle to it's functioning and was happy today to find Google.Org. I was happier to see it's inspiration -- none other than our very own Mahatma Gandhi.

The question that was posed to Google was the obvious one: we have loads of money we can give for good causes, and there are loads of great organisations all over the world who can benefit from our donations, how do we decide?

A good question to ponder for all of us wanting to donate.

The answer came from a Gandhi talisman: "Whenever you are in doubt, or when the self becomes too much with you, apply the following test. Recall the face of the poorest and the weakest man whom you may have seen, and ask yourself if the step you contemplate is going to be of any use to him. Will he gain anything by it?"

According to an article on Google's grass-root efforts in Slate magazine:

"...less than one-third of the money that people gave to nonprofits in 2005 went to help the economically disadvantaged. The world's poorest are virtually ignored by the philanthropic giving of some of the world's wealthiest citizens. So our first criterion had to be Gandhi's talisman: How will our work help the poorest and weakest of the world?"

The second question Google looked at was something that needed to fit in with it's philosophy of "think bigger": Is the potential initiative a big enough idea?

Basis that they say (in the article): "...the initiative now includes stimulating financing to small and medium-sized enterprises by finding ways to lower transaction costs, deepen capital markets, and catalyze the flow of other money along with our own."

And finally, in terms of addressing whether Google has the expertise to run such a philanthropic initiative successfully, it decided to use the efforts of its (close to 17,000) employees in an hybrid-philanthropic system where there is complete integration between Google and Google.Org.

A pretty straight forward 3-step plan huh.

It is very interesting to see such big organisations divert a good amount of time and energy towards social causes -- I think Microsoft takes the lead with that. It's also interesting to see the rapid rise of social capitalism and the growing importance of it being fundamental for the success of a company. The objective? With the huge recession in the global economy, organisations with a large amount of money and resources will have to play lead in large-scale social movements, not only to make a real difference in the world, but to be successful as an organisation. Much pressure for this comes from world leaders.

Perhaps there is much more hope for the world than we realize. All of a sudden, I don't despise the multinational monsters.

Stop. We don't like it. Really.

Why do guys think that making kiss and hug sounds over the phone is better or more effective than saying "kisses", "besitos" or "big hug"? And whatever happened to a simple old-fashion BYE!?

I find it a complete turn-off, not to mention repulsive, when I hear a "muah" on the other end of the line. It doesn't sound natural, nor does it sound normal, nor do you make those sounds when you actually kiss someone on greeting them so why it's necessary over the phone is completely beyond me. (No it's not creative, nor is it original). Writing it is acceptable, but sounds over the phone...BIG NO NO.

Hugs over the phone are worse. OMG I used to have a friend (big on hugs, obviously) who would call me every morning and "sound me" a hug over the phone.

What does a hug over the phone sound like? I don't even know what a hug sounds like in person but this friend's imagination made it sound like the sound you make when you wake up in the morning and do a long cat stretch; this he would fill with words describing how I must imagine him coming out through the phone to give me a hug.

Yes, he was a bit mad. Yes, he did it with much love and affection (which I truly, truly appreciated), but yes, it was the most annoying thing EVER. Of course, I could never say that to him so I accepted it as part of a routine I had to deal with every morning.

So yeah, if you do any of these things, trust me, people on the other end unless they tell you that they love you doing that, THEY REALLY DON'T LIKE IT, and DEFINITELY DON'T think it's attractive, so just stop!

Quote from Juno (the film)

I just watched Juno and it's one of the best movies I've seen in a LONG time. It's hilarious, yet not stupid, meaningful yet not heavy, it will often make you laugh out hard and sporadically make you cry as well. The script is fantastic; every other line was original and had impact.

Here is one of them that made me a bit teary eyed:
(Juno asks her father whether it's possible for two people to stay together for the rest of their lives. This is what he said in reply)

"Look, in my opinion the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what-have-you. The right person is still going to think the sun shines out of your ass. That's the kind of person that's worth sticking with."

Will review the movie shortly, (if not here, somewhere! :) will keep you posted once it's done.

How much I've been writing

Something randomly possessed to me calculate the amount of writing...ok ok...blogging I've been doing over the last few months.

For those of you who don't know: I write regularly for 4 travel blogs, and one magazine, and my own personal blog.

Over the last 4 months, I have been averaging around 16,000 words a month; 16,000

And that word count doesn't include my personal blog.

(why is my font getting bigger as I write?)

I am shocked. I really didn't realize that's how much I am blogging. I think it's a lot - it comes to almost 500 words a day, everyday, including weekends. Explains why I perpetually feel suffocated sitting at my computer, it's because I'm almost always looking at it!

Suddenly I feel like I've been very productive lately. Especially keeping in mind that I also teach about 15 hours a week AND still have a social life.

Wowza.

One of those days!

Today has been one of those days where you wake up bright and early, motivated, ready to seize the day and all that rubbish, make a constructive list of things to do, and land up doing everything BUT what's on that list. ARGH.

Not to say that what I did wasn't productive...ummm...well actually, it wasn't productive at all. But it's Saturday! That's what I'm telling myself. But when you work for yourself, everyday can be Saturday and that realization takes no time to ruin your evening as you are left full of guilt for not having accomplished much.

See, my time spent = money earned. I.e. no productivity, no money. Great way of living you'd say, but it's tougher than you realize. To be self-disciplined is one thing and to be motivated at the same time -- all the time(!!!) -- is another thing. To the extent, that today I almost envied people with a proper job, as they can afford to mess around some days, waffle and be completely unproductive -- it's not going to affect their paycheck.

Sigh. Oh well. There's my little rant for the day. I'm not going to try to be productive anymore and am going to cook instead. Tomorrow is another day.

New books!

I treated myself on Amazon today -- this is what I bought:
- "The 4-Hour Workweek: Escape 9-5, Live Anywhere, and Join the New Rich" -- Timothy Ferriss: A book I've had in my head for a long time now.
-"On Becoming Fearless: ...in Love, Work, and Life" -- Arianna Huffington
Arianna Huffington of the Huffington Post is a personal idol. I'm motivated by her achievements and aspire to her; I can't wait to get my hands on this book.
- "Simpleology: The Simple Science of Getting What You Want" -- Mark Joyner
This book I honestly have never heard of before but it sounded up my street at this moment in my life and I wanted to get my bill to more than $25 so I can benefit from the free-shipper offer. But, for some reason I don't get that (!!?) and decided to stick with the complete order anyway.

Yes, they are all self-help books I seem to be desperately in need of.

AND DAMN! I THINK I'VE ORDERED THEM ALL HARD COVER! Argh.

How do you get to my blog?

Google Analytics is like a God send for anyone who remotely cares about who comes to read their blog, from where, and what brought them there.

It's interesting to keep up to date with what posts most people are reading on your site, but what's more interesting (and possibly shocking) is to know what readers searched for and landed up finding your blog.

Here are some of the not popular (thank goodness), but truly strange key words that have lead people to my blog:
-Daniel Brühl Naked -- Huh?
- My perm
- 2008 Emails of Abha --- what sick person is trying to look for my emails? Whoever it is, FYI you cannot google people's emails.
- Dubai Hotel Sex -- I wrote a post on Dance Bars of Dubai that is one of my top 5 most read posts, so I guess this search is justified
- Miguel Ruiz De Elvira -- Who is he?
- Abha sexy girl -- Should I be flattered?
- ABCD Indian Girl -- Yeah, that would be me, except I wasn't born in Amreeka
- Ayesha Taka is fat -- Huh?
- Benidorm Boobs -- I wrote a post once about a Marc Anthony concert I went to in Benidorm, and I think I might have mentioned J.Lo's ass; that's the only explanation I can think of for this one!
- Cynicstan -- Hmm.
- Gira Aloo -- hahaha
- Good places to pee -- that's a great post idea, eh?
- Pathan Breakfast -- hahaha I'm sure they land on a post that describes a big breakfast I once had at a Pathan joint in Dubai (Ravi's in Karama)

And that's about all the amusing ones. I'm happy to know that these are the minority searches.

Dealing with the guilt of not having a career path when you vagabond

That's the topic of my latest Vagablogging post. Check it out here.

Unhappy in your relationship?

Over the last few weeks or so, I have been privy to many, MANY conversations about relationship problems (when girls get together, 90% of the time, this is, unfortunately, what we talk about).

The crux of it all has been that people are in relationships that make them unhappy. Boyfriends are dicks and make their girlfriends unhappy; girlfriends are distraught and not living their life because they are too affected by their boyfriends, who are being dicks.

There is just one thing I want to say about this:

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN HAPPINESS.

Yes, people you love have an effect, we are influenced by them. Their animo often becomes ours, and we have good days and bad days. Ups and downs are normal in relationships, people aren't perfect, everyone has issues. But having downs doesn't mean you are an unhappy person. Your temporary mood with a person is distinct (perhaps not exclusive) from whether overall you are happy or not.

Aside from this, if you find yourself unhappy for an extended period of time, honestly, it has NOTHING to do with anyone but yourself. It's YOUR FAULT that you are unhappy, not your boyfriend's. People may treat you badly, or unfairly, but you have the power to fix that, and it may be easier than you realize. You cannot depend on somebody else to make you happy.

So guys, stop blaming others for your misery, get a life, and find a solution so that you can make yourself happy. Life is too short to not be happy.

Quote for the day

"Life is what happens to you while you are busy making plans" - John Lennon.

So ridiculously true.

What if...?

What if all of a sudden you had no money, no house, no nothing and you were on the street. What would you do to earn a living?

This thought often comes to my mind when I see that guitarist in the metro singing La Bamba, or jugglers jumping onto the roads in front of traffic lights, or the old man sitting on the sidewalk trying to sell some poems he has written.

I fell into a moment of neurotic panic when I could think of NOTHING I am capable of doing to earn a buck for bread, should I ever be in that position.

See, I can do many things, but none well-enough that I would get a dime for it if I did it on the road. And, in case you were wondering, although it would probably be my best bet, I would never, ever, get into prostitution.

After tossing and turning over what I could possibly do to not die of hunger, I came up with two sad, but possible options -- 1) I would dress as an esoteric gypsy and read peoples hands, stars and tarot cards. (I'm Indian, this wouldn't be hard to pull off) 2) I did a massage course YEARS ago, and actually got certified. I remember bits and pieces of how to give a good body massage, I could start with offering neck and foot rubs in the parks, like they do in Thailand.

What would you do?

That time of the month

I find it absolutely vile that we women have to go through drudging bouts of physical pain and emotional vulnerability for a few days EVERY month.

I hate the person that I turn into pre-menstruation. I am numb, neutral-bordering-cold, volatile, and suffer from 'I-hate-the-world' syndrome.

Very few people have the misfortune of seeing me these few days every month. It's awfully difficult but absolutely mandatory not act on your bitchy whims when you are with people who don't know you well; you are fully aware that they will not understand and their friendship means something to you so you have to suck it in, take a deep breath and do whatever else you need to, to assure that they will never see this beastly side of you.

Being far away from people you love is also advisable come this monthly massacre as they are the first ones you lash out at remorselessly. My parents (especially my father) and my brother are those who have really born the brunt of my absolute callous and often violently dramatic behaviour, come this time of the month. They know the symptoms so well that they can distinguish my general intolerance and anger from menstrual intolerance and anger, and have developed the amazing skill of making me laugh when I am at the brink of an emotional explosion. Mum, dad, Anish, how I love you for that. I cannot think of anyone else I can have an outbreak like that with, who will give me a hug rather than delete me from their life.

They are 7000-thousand miles away from me right now, and I'm sure they don't miss these monthly bouts of mine.

I always wondered why men and women couldn't share this time of the month. What did women do to deserve scheduled hormonal imbalance and bleeding from their private parts!? It's so unnecessary and unjust, all so that we can have babies. Shouldn't we be able to choose? If we don't want babies, we should not have to deal with the agitation and suffering of menstruation.

On the plus side, sometimes (actually, very few times) I think that menstruation is a great excuse to justifiably rant, vent, stomp your feet, cry, howl, get it all out and be excused for it because -- oh...she's pre-menstrual.

No. Bad argument. I hate this aspect of being a woman.

Bill Gates at the Consumer Electronics Showcase

I've always liked Bill Gates. Especially after all the work he is doing with his Foundation in India. I didn't realize he had such a great sense of humour though! This video is from his keynote speech at the Consumer Electronics Showcase currently taking place in Las Vegas, and it's hysterical! I love his super geekiness hehehe; a must watch!

I think my blog is turning blah

Ok, my blog was meant for me to blah carelessly on in the first place, but lately it just seems to be super blah. But, guess what, I have a good excuse for this issue, but no solution.

I have been blogging my brains out on all the different websites that have allowed me to do so. For the last few months or so, I have been averaging 20-25 blog posts across 5 blogs all demanding high-quality, original content. Come time to write my own blog and a blah post happens. The extent of blah might have been noted by my few loyal readers (I love you guys so much!) when I wrote the most scintillating post on Winter Smells.

What on earth was that!? Anyway. I'm going to start posting links to some of my (what I think) better posts on other blogs, and hopefully write more noteworthy stuff here too.

In the mean time, check out two of my latest posts:
Gadling: Dubai Shopping Nightmare 2008
Written Road: Learnings from 2007, Writing Goals for 2008?

Happy Sunday.

Milan street map fly squatter. Huh?

You know how there are some products on the market that make you wonder: what on earth were they thinking!? Well, here's one of them: a plastic fly squatter with the target area designed as the street map of Milan.

Created by award-winning home and dining accessories company Pandora Design, it is also, urrrr, designer! Available in black, blue, green, orange, violet and white, the squatter is priced at US$15.

Other than pure amusement value, perhaps it would be a great gift for entomophobes visiting Milan?

Happy 2008!

My New Year's Eve was supposed to be hot chocolate and movies. Turned out to be quite the contrary ;)

I enjoyed being blonde for a day. (I'm the short-hair blonde, and the girls are my flatmates.)

Adios 2007

Another year has gone fleeting by. Wow. I remember vividly the uproar for the millennium -- 8 years ago! Doesn't it scare you how time flies? It petrifies me.

Anyway, bottom line is that there is nothing we can do about that but realize it and make sure we are making the most of our time.

2007 has been a very eventful year for me:
- I moved to Madrid
- I got my TEFL certification
- I taught English
- I passed the intermediate DELE (official Spanish language exam)
- I blogged and vlogged
- I started writing for Vagablogging, Gadling, Written Road, European Vibe and Map Magazine
- My blogging contract for Gridskipper ended
- I presented a video for a Jon Spencer concert
- I went to Galicia (Northern Spain), Barcelona, Valencia, Granada,Paris (twice!), Malmo (Sweden), Copenhagen, and Rome.
- I joined a writer's group and a Vipassana (meditation) group -- both I made a point of staying in contact with
- I worked on the European Radio Awards in Barcelona
- I did some web consultancy for an online marketing strategy firm
- I was interviewed on Write-to-Travel blog
- I was featured in a travel e-book
- I salsa'd A LOT and started to (well, tried to) learn Tango
- I went through 4 pairs of dancing shoes
- I got mugged of 20 Euros
- My parents visited, and so did 3 of my close friends
- I dated a Spanish boy, and started dating an American one
- I watched the Rocky Horror Show
- I learnt how to make curry! (Yeeeeeeeeehaa!)
- I pierced my nose (TODAY!)
- I became an aunt
- My brother moved to Texas
- My grandmother died of lung cancer
- My grandfather's second wife died of a heart attack

What does this all mean? How do I feel? How have I changed? What is in store for 2008? Bugs Bunny knows.

Resolutions for 2008? I'm still letting 2007 sink in for the moment.

Thank you and cheers to all those people who have been reading my blog. I hope you stick around in 2008!

Happy New Year.

It's OK, it's the festive season

If there is anyone out there who is not pigging out this festive season, still exercising and therefore still looking great in tight jeans, how do you do it!? How do you resist indulging in sweet and savory delights put in front of you, begging to be eaten? Answer: you don't.

This week (and I presume the next one too) has seen me relieving my year's nonsensical preoccupations (what am I doing with my life, why am I in Spain, I have a white hair (!), when am I going to clean the cobwebs in my room, etc etc) by eating full-fat food and dessert, nonstop. No exercise. No real work. Lots of sleep. Lots movies. Lots of unproductive thinking. Lots of nothing.

It's great to have these days but it's hard to really enjoy them when you don't have a proper job. I feel guilty; like I have no right to take time off. Of course that's not true. Everyone has the right to take time off. Even if they don't have any concrete achievements to justify hours of absolute lethargy.

Much needed conclusive note: Come January and it's going to be crazy again, so sit down and enjoy every morsel of that molten-chocolate-whipped-cream cake.

Winter Smells

Has anyone realized how good people smell in winter? I'm a sucker for people who smell good. There is nothing more momentarily pleasurable than someone walk past you and you get a fresh whiff of perfume, cologne, soap, cream, or even hair gel.

I have an 8:30am class to teach every morning. When I get into the metro, I'm so busy identifying smells I can't concentrate on the newspaper I have to read. Palmolive honey, Pleasures for men, Davidoff Cool Waters, Loreal Wet Look Moose, Johnson's Baby Cologne, Axe for men and sometimes I even smell the peppermint freshness of mouthwash! (Yes, I have a super sensitive nose). I identify the smell and all of a sudden I see him/her doing his/her morning getting dressed routine and all of a sudden I feel like I know them. Is that sick?

People stink in summer. They sweat and they stink. Winter has that perpetual morning freshness. The temperature is cool, the wind is cold and minty. Everyone seems clean. Everyone smells great. This might be the only reason I don't mind winter.

Happy winter!

What's the longest word in the English dictionary?

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis

Who would have thought ay.

One of the best videos I have seen in a while. Happy Sunday!

I feel ugly

Ever had one of those days where you wake up, look in the mirror, and go "ugh"? You feel worn and exhausted. All your facial imperfections seem magnified. You see countless blackheads and scars on your skin that has never seemed drier. Your lips are chapped and blood-red from the wine you drank the night before. Your eyes are puffy, you have dark circles -half from being tired, half from the black-eyeliner that you never take off properly; your hair seems listless, your nail-polish is chipped, you feel fat.

Today is one of those days for me. It's been a long time since I had one of these days. I'm not depressed or anything, it's a day that resonates how you cannot afford to stop exercising, you should not drink every night, passive smoking is as bad as smoking yourself, you need 8-hours of sleep -- at least a few times a week, you cannot live on Chinese food and coffee, and that you are totally responsible for your physical and mental well-being.

Lately, I have been working hard and partying harder. I have been having a great time but today when I woke up I was momentarily disturbed as I looked in the mirror and asked myself, was it worth it!?

I think I need to balance things out a bit. Sometimes you don't have to seize every moment, most of the time there is tomorrow, so you just need to chill more often than not.

Saying goodbye and moving on

Some thoughts that have been looming in my mind lately -- subject of my latest post on Vagablogging.

Quote from the Jay-Z of blogging

"I always believed that those of us who were creating personal media online would win. I still hold out hope that when we do so, it's not because we were willing to fight dirtier (or work cheaper) than the media that inspired us, but rather because we could do a better job of making media than the legacy media does today. Congratulations to everybody involved for being willing to indulge in a little bit of the most positive sort of creative destruction." -- Anil Dash, Vice President at Six Apart (makers of Typepad, Moveable Type, LiveJournal and Vox)

Some friends you just can't do without!

M: So will you miss my wisdom when I move to the US?
Me: Why, you won't have electricity or a computer?
M: Yes, but our time will be so different.
Me: It's super cheap for me to call the States.
M: OK, you can reach me on my 1800-GODS-GIFT-TO-WOMEN Number

Hahahah. What would I do without you!? :D

Question of the day

How personal should your blog be?

Dating: The Three-Month Twitch

I have been in the "dating" sphere for the last 10-years, and I have not been able to keep a man in my life for more than 3-months at a stretch -- a consistent end post the damned if you do, damned if you don't theory.

Various reasons for this, all bullshit, but reasons nonetheless -- or excuses rather. For example:
-"You are too good to be with a jerk like me." (huh?)
-"I respect you too much to be dating you casually." (did I say I wanted a serious relationship!??)
-"You are the type I would take home to my mum, and right now I just want to get laid." (dude, I don't want to meet your mum!)
-"How can you want to date me knowing it's not going to last? What is the point?" (Urrr...nothing lasts forever, and whatever happened to enjoying the present?)
-"I am scared of commitment." (I don't want to marry you!)
-"It's not you, it's me." (My all time favourite cliche :)

I've had the odd "I'm really still in love with my ex" thing, which is fine and acceptable -- but the boys have not had the balls to tell me that whilst breaking-up. The odd mutual break-up "we like each other but not enough to keep dating" shpeal has been the cleanest cut-out.

However, what might be interesting to note (as I choose to humiliate myself publicly on this blog) is that all these guys went on to have serious relationships after me. I don't know what to think of that, and I rather not. I do wish they would have told me the truth though. I've been half-tempted to ring them all and ask them "what did I not do right?"

Maybe I was too easy. Maybe I should've played those stupid games that everyone plays. Maybe I gave too much too soon. Maybe I didn't give enough. Maybe we shouldn't have gotten involved in the first place. Fuck knows.

Anyway, so I'm currently involved in something. I don't want to tag it, there is no point. (Oh, I also recently learnt that "dating" is different from a "relationship" -- I didn't know that. Yeah, I'm pretty clueless when it comes to men. And I'm sick of trying to figure this whole being with someone concept. It's overrated and it gives me a headache.)

So post my confidence being shattered a million times and my therefore assumed vulnerability, my dating mind frame has evolved into this: I date someone because I'm enjoying myself. The minute it's more painful than fun, you get out.

Coming back to my point: it has been 3-months since I have been with someone now and that momentary realization (that I don't want to dwell on which is why I'm ranting it on this blog) has made me think about my past hook-ups and how pass this duration and within a week it's over.

I know it's not fair to compare your relationships. Each one is completely different, they have nothing to do with each other. But, when the pattern repeats itself on numerous occasions, you can't help but wonder.

It's like the guys had a timer that started beeping come the 3-month mark and were afraid that what they are involved in is nothing but a bomb waiting to explode.

It's not like I'm consciously counting days, but it's hard not to be aware of this possibly apocalyptic phase of my dating life.

I don't know what that says about me. Did I just compare myself to a bomb waiting to explode? I really don't know what that says about me. Sigh.

Anyway, there are a few thoughts that help me deal with stuff like this:
- You can't make anyone do anything they don't want to: if someone doesn't want to be with you there is no convincing him into it.
- It's all about personal growth: whether in or out of an involvement with someone, as long as you've grown in some way (together or apart), it was worth it.
- Nobody dies of a broken heart: you fall, you get up, you dust off, you move on.
- Everything happens for a reason.

Someone once told me that you attract what you are ready for. Maybe subconsciously this is all I have ever been ready for? Or, all I am ready for at the moment?

Is this normal or is there something seriously wrong with me? Do I need to see a psychiatrist?

Parents Check In Madrid

Every time I swear that I need to blog here at least once a day, something happens and I land up not blogging for days.

Normally, I don't have a good excuse: tired, not inspired, too much blogging other places, hungover...but this time I have a very valid excuse: my parents were here!

Yes, they came to see what on earth I am doing with my life here in Spain. We spent 5 action-packed days in Madrid, together at all waking hours and we didn't want to tear out each others eyes. :)

I don't think I have spent so much time with my parents in the whole 5 years I lived at home in Dubai. It was superb.

Although their million dollar question of where will what I'm doing right now take me later wasn't answered, they appreciated the way I live and understand why I don't want to change my life yet.

Was sad to see them leave, only because I don't know when I will see them again.

Harta

"Andas sola?"

(estamos bailando)

"Si" le dije. (normalmente miento por que siempre conozco por lo menos 5 personas cuando voy a bailar, ayer no vi nadie y era poco difícil a mentir)

"Tengo coche, te llevo a casa luego si quieres"

Que no! no te conozco de nada, porque voy a sentar en tu coche a las 4 de la mañana!?

Llevo bailando casi cinco años, y aun no he encontrado un grupo/persona con quien consistamente puedo quedar a ir a bailar.

Con respeto de los chicos: algunos quieren llevarte a casa a...sabéis por que...y si no te interesa, ellos no les interesa a ir a bailar contigo. Y los grupos -- si no sales con ellos fuera de pista de baile, se alejan u ofenden, y no te llaman cuando salen.

Los chicas guapas que bailan bien, 99% tienen pareja de baile con quien salgan, o novio -- y normalmente es difícil conocerlas. Yo como no bailo profesionalmente, y tengo mala suerte con chicos con quien salgo -- no estoy en este 99%.

*sigh* y sigo yendo sola.

Ahora hace un frió que te cagas y es muy dificil animarte ir a bailar a la una de la mañana cuando vas sola. Y ahi tienes que contestar este mierda pregunta te chicos ascerosos "andas sola?"

Es una putada.

My first travel-writer interview!

I must be doing something right!

Check it out here!

Home is where you lay your hat

Dealing with the idea of "home" is the latest subject of my Vagablogging post.

My Perm Days...UGHHHH!

You know how you look at old photos and go, OH MY GOD, what was I thinking!? Why did I do that to my hair!?

Well a dear friend decided to post this on Stalkbook today, and of course he tagged me so that everyone can see! (Thanks Jo :)

I had permed hair for almost 2-years. Yuck. Never again.

The photo is from my days in Australia...I used to live with these two and I think we were on our way to Sydney. Wow. That was atleast 6-years ago.

After that, I cut it super short and spiky -- I liked that -- I even dyed it partially blonde. (YUP!) Then, sick of looking like a teenage boy for about 3 years -- I decided to grow my hair back and had to pass that awful in between growing stage; everyone used to call me Mogli (Yes, from Junglebook) OMG.

Yeah...I've had many bad hair periods. Now it stands long, very straight and natural brown. And that's how it's staying for a while.

Life. And Death. And My Brother.

Something awful happened to my brother a few weeks ago.

On a calm autumn night, as he was walking a friend to her car, a teenager fell out of a 4-storey building and died right infront of him.

He and his friend were the only witnesses. They had to call 911, examine the body and narrate what they saw to the police.

He has finally been able to write about it -- you can read the whole story here; it's just like a movie -- the sad thing is that it isn't.

Scary. Unnerving. Unfair. No-one should have to go through that.

How life can be shocking, so out of our own control, and so freaking unpredictable gives me the shivers and nausea.

It is not uncommon that you read stuff like this in the newspapers and you think 'holy crap', but never fathom that it could happen to someone you know.

I feel terrible that my brother had to go through something like this. He is only 17 for goodness sake. But I am so proud of how he handled the situation.

Anish, hats off to you. I love you.

Martian wake-up call

10 months in Madrid, and I've finally invested (a whole 8 Euros) in an alarm clock (who needs those in Spain anyway!?).

I had bought this 1 Euro alarm from a Chino around the corner, which kinda did the job -- even though it kept ringing randomly, and never said the correct time; as long as I reset it before going to bed, it was ok.

Well almost ok. Being late to my 8am classes for the last 2 weeks (it's hard to wake-up in winter!), I was in desperate need of a good one and this is what I bought.

Doesn't it look like it's fallen straight out of space? It's cute and it has radio -- BUT -- it also talks!! YES! IT TALKS! When the alarm goes off, it says the time "son las dos horas y catorce minutos" in an annoying female nasal voice. Why couldn't they put a deep, soft and sexy male voice so I could wake-up in different glory?

Oh well. I guess atleast I'm not going to have problems waking up now.

Facebook group of the day

I Dont care How Comfortable Crocs Are, You Look Like A Dumbass.

This one made me laugh out loud. As of this moment, it has 680,240 members haha.

Thought of the day

"If you want to kiss the sky you better learn how to kneel" -- U2, Mysterious Ways

Superstitious India

Pandit encourages man to marry his dog, to redeem himself of killing two dogs 15-years ago. This is the subject of my latest Gadling post.

Funny how a lot of stories can be found in 'Oddities' sections of online publications. Sad thing is that in India, these things are anything but odd.

(Photo: Boston Globe)

New dancing shoes!

I bought what I first thought was the ugliest pair on the rack.

They are gold and silver with a butterfly pattern, not me at all -- even trying them on was out of the question. Then the shop owner said that it was her best selling model because of the way it fits and that I should try them on, especially because I have super narrow feet.

And I did and I bought them! Euro 109 *gasp* definitely the most expensive shoes I've ever owned.

They hug my foot perfectly and my toes don't stick out the front! To find shoes where my toes don't stick out is almost impossible unless I get them custom made, but I never have the patience for that.

These actually don't look bad when on -- they do not appear not as gaudy-goldy as they look. Besides, they are a dancing shoes -- they're supposed to be jazzy and all! I can't wait to wear them. My other three seem like the dogs have eaten them; they are going into the bin tomorrow.

Nails gone Gothic

Hmmm. I am liking.

Back to blogspot

Yeah, that whole Tumblr experience didn't last too long. It's a great program, and honestly I'd like to continue on it -- but a few things have brought me back here:

-- People cannot interact with me unless they email me. They cannot leave comments, nor can I measure traffic, nor can I link to other people, nor can I transfer all my archives to Tumblr, bla bla bla -- that's enough reasons to come back here I guess. I felt like I was writing to a wall on Tumblr.

Also, I can do everything I do on Tumblr on Blogger, and I feel like it's home on Blogger so yeah, I'm back! :) Maybe I will juggle the two, I dunno -- but Blogger will stay my home.

For those who checked me out on Tumblr, what did you think? (Please, someone tell me they saw me on Tumblr?)

Tumble Mumble

Well, in effort to not let my personal blog die, for the time being I'm switching to a Tumblog! It's easy, effortless, and makes your most invalid post seem valid! :)

So, until further notice, I'm going to be tumbling at www.abhamalpani.tumblr.com so do check me out there!

Why don't they have dustbins!?

I'm currently in Barcelona working for the European Radio Awards. Am staying at the swanky Hotel Arts, in quite a swanky room.

But the one thing that has made me swear more than 50 times in the last two days here is that my room doesn't have a dustbin!

It has a plasma screen with 3 remotes, a CD rack with a selection of music, a weighing scale, enough chocolate to feed a classroom of 4-year-olds, 3 pairs of bathroom and bed slippers, lots of lovely containers with potpourri, more than a few empty bowls on my sink in the bathroom (to spit in?), but no freakin' dustbin!

Don't people who stay in swanky hotels use dustbins? where do they throw their rubbish?

So I've been using my plastic bags to throw stuff. But since these dudes come to clean your room twice a day, I don't have any plastic bags left.

Oh, and 3 times in the last 2 days has some house-keeping person rang my doorbell, not waited for me to open, and walked right in. WHAT?! Anyway...(DEEP BREATH)...am not going to rant about that.

A "why the f*** don't you have dustbins" note is definitely going into their complaint box.

Curry night...

...for those who care to know: it was fine. The food almost got over, so I'm going to take that as a "Abha you can cook" signal, and leave it at that.

I didn't take pictures. For a few reasons:
- I felt it rather vain to take pictures of my own food. There were too many people in my house when I had finished cooking, so it was hard to do it without getting some smartass comments I really didn't want to deal with.
- The food didn't really look nice.

Oh well, next time!

My First Curry Night

So I'm cooking curry for the first time for...urrr...12 people tomorrow night. Holy shit.

When I told my mum, she said: "Why!?" (I've never cooked curry in my life, and I'm not particularly a good cook). I've hardly ever cooked for my parents either, so this reaction is not uncalled for.

My ex-flatmates from Valencia are coming for the night to Madrid, so it's in their honour. 15 months in Spain and it's kinda over due, don't you think?

"But you don't know how to cook Abha," says my flatmate Javi most innocently. "Should we bring some pizza backup?"

Guys I'm going to make this hot-ass curry, you will be begging for more.

(I wish!) *sigh*

I'm still quite excited though, but am freaking out a bit too. It's a lot of pressure to cook for a dozen people.

I have been making visits to the Bangladeshi spices shop for the last three days, to make sure I have the right stuff. I have been asking him for his opinion on what mixes are better than the other, then cross checking with my mum, stuff like that. He can't stop smiling as he speaks to me. I think he thinks I like him.

*sigh*

Menu is: chicken curry. gira-aloo. raita. gira-rice. and bhel! yeah can you believe it? bhel!? hahaha.

Will take some pics and post them, whether it works out or not.

My life lately...

I've been swamped writing a million things, but enjoying it just the same.

Panadol, Red Bull and Dorito's have become part of my staple diet, am averaging 5 hours of sleep at night, but that's ok -- perhaps I should work at getting 6 at least, then I'll be more than rocking.

I'm young, I've got blood in my veins -- one day the rush will die, so for now it's cool.

Have also started vlogging (video blogging), will share my silliness on camera at some point, even thought it's quite embarrassing.

Am off to Barcelona next weekend to work on the European Radio Broadcasting Awards, am excited about that (although I have no idea what I'm gonna be doing, but that's ok!)

Anyway, all for now -- stay tuned.

Quote of the day & off to Rome

"Don't worry if you can't sleep, there's always play dough."

It's been a while since some quote stuck with me for more than a few minutes! :)

Off to Rome in 5 hours for the weekend - ah the pleasures of living in Europe!

Will be seeing a close friend of mine I used to live with in Australia -- haven't seen her for 5 years! Plan is to eat lot's of pasta, drink lots of toxic lemonchelli, see some ruins, gossip and reminisce.

Otra razón por que me encanta España

Conversación en una panadería:

Dependiente: “Buenas, que te doy?

Yo: “Tienes Red Bull?”

Dependiente: “Si, claro.”

Me da una bota de algo rojo con letras en color negro y plata que se llama: “Torro XL”

Yo: “Pero eso no es Red Bull.”

Ella: “Es igual, y mas barato.”

Genial :)

Writing for Gadling

All my incessant mindless blogging has finally borne fruit -- as of today I have started writing for Gadling, one of the hottest travel blogs on the blogosphere; I am thrillllllllled!

If you are even remotely interested in traveling and you don't read Gadling, shame on you! Read Gadling -- it's one of the top 1000 blogs according to Technorati.

So, yes now I'm blogging for a bit more than just beer money! YAAAY :)

Check out my first post here!

Explaining what I am doing with my life...

...this was something I really had to tackle when I decided to quit my job and move to Spain. Before Spain came through, the original idea was Costa Rica -- which amounted for bigger explanations to everyone from my my boss, my friends, my parents to my turtle, my watchman, our cleaning lady, the supermarket delivery guy and long lost uncles in New Jersey.

This is what my latest post on Vagablogging deals with, read it here.

The Tango Slap

I went to my first Milonga (tango gathering) yesterday.

To my delight, although I was sitting quietly in a corner, I was quickly swept up to dance. But this is all I heard.

"Abha don't move your hips!"

"Contain all your energy inside you and maintain your body stiff."

"Your energy needs to be kept in balance with your body's axis, this isn't a free dance -- don't let go."

"Do not move unless you feel forced to by the man you are dancing with; submit to him completely."

"Tango has nothing to do with any of the Latin dances you dance; you need to forget everything you have learnt in salsa, chacha, merengue and bachata."

So I got demoted to a beginners class. I didn't get up to dance again.

For someone who has been dancing for the last 4 years, being told you can't do a particular dance is acceptable, but nonetheless a huge dent to your ego.

You become so used to being a rockstar on the dance floor that when suddenly told all the above, that feeling of being a novice again, isn't fun.

It was my first tango social, and I was quite surprised how entirely different the tango ambiance is to the salsa ambiance. The people were older, dressed in (mainly black) elegant dresses as opposed to provocative slinky salsa stuff. People dance with an intensity that doesn't even permit them to keep their eyes open; in salsa if you don't look at the person and at least smile whilst dancing, it is an insult.

Tango is the opposite of every reason I choose to dance. I dance to let go, to be silly, to feel free, to laugh, to disconnect. Tango is everything but these things.

I still liked being there though. I felt the need to be able to dance like that, if only -- just to be able to.

But but no way will it ever replace my salsa dancing; at least while I am still young, energetic and flexible.