So I have just about to start feeling settled...almost Madrileña, dare I say.
I live in the centre of the city, in a huge 4 bedroom apartment. I have a double bed, and a terrace all to myself. I can't wait for Spring to have breakfast out there.
My flatmates are the coolest, craziest, warmest people I have met for a long time - they are like elder sisters I never had. All from creative backgrounds (actors, meditators, dancers), it is not uncommon to find them dressed as elves, or doing a Red-Indian ritual dance when I walk in. Believe me, it's not weird, infact the contrary.
They all light candles 24/7 around the house, which makes the house smell wonderful, feel spiritual and look great, but I'm quite paranoid that it might catch fire some day. I'm forbidden to blow them out, because that will ruin the purifying process that they aid. But that's hardly anything to complain about.
I've met an awesome guy. And that's all I will say about that, for fear of jinxing everything.
I have wonderful students. Teaching them English is a breeze and very satisfying, (except for the 2 little brats I have who only want to play game-boy, talk about Pokemon in an unspecified language, and karaoke to High School Musical).
I wake up every morning more than content. Fresh, alive and ready to seize the day. Something I haven't felt in a while.
Although my great 'plan' is to stay here for a year and then move to NY, the thought of leaving Madrid at the moment is incomprehensible. Who knows?
It's good to be blogging again.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Connected!
So finally the wifi is up and rocking in my house! It's unbelievable how handicapped and disconnected I have felt without the Internet.
Lack of connectivity over the last month has resulted in nervous attacks, withdrawal symptoms, epileptic fits, eating disorders, random laughter, too much alcohol, and other things I cannot talk about here because my parents read this blog. Another thing to add to my list of things to do: sign-up at Internet Addicts Anonymous.
A million things to write, where to begin?
To all those who still bother to read my nonsense, stay tuned!
Lack of connectivity over the last month has resulted in nervous attacks, withdrawal symptoms, epileptic fits, eating disorders, random laughter, too much alcohol, and other things I cannot talk about here because my parents read this blog. Another thing to add to my list of things to do: sign-up at Internet Addicts Anonymous.
A million things to write, where to begin?
To all those who still bother to read my nonsense, stay tuned!
Monday, March 19, 2007
People. Strange. Strange People.
We had a Mexican dude come stay with us last week.
This is what he left us as a thank you gift for letting him crash at ours.
I don´t think I need to go into details.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Wifi on strike
Posting hasn´t been easy over the last 10 days or so, thanks to my wireless that will not function until the 27th of March. (Yes, I even have a date!)
Lots to say, stay tuned.
Lots to say, stay tuned.
Loss
I have been one of those fortunate children to have grown up with the love of not two, but three grandmothers.
I lost one of them over the weekend to lung cancer.
The irony of it all – she never smoked a cigarette in her life.
A gynecologist, she delivered me at our home hospital in Bombay. I was the first granddaughter in the house.
She spoilt me rotten with bhindi until I was three.
I was the only child ever allowed to sit in the corner of the operation room when she was doing surgery.
She put my photos growing up around the house. Some that are still seen today, 24 years later.
She would listen to anything I said, however I said it, even if I would fight. A privilege very few had.
She believed in the saving the environment and looking after street children.
Losing someone shouldn´t be part of life, don´t you think?
I lost one of them over the weekend to lung cancer.
The irony of it all – she never smoked a cigarette in her life.
A gynecologist, she delivered me at our home hospital in Bombay. I was the first granddaughter in the house.
She spoilt me rotten with bhindi until I was three.
I was the only child ever allowed to sit in the corner of the operation room when she was doing surgery.
She put my photos growing up around the house. Some that are still seen today, 24 years later.
She would listen to anything I said, however I said it, even if I would fight. A privilege very few had.
She believed in the saving the environment and looking after street children.
Losing someone shouldn´t be part of life, don´t you think?
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Big Black Blotches
So FYI until today, my English as a Second Language classes with children have been awful. No matter how much I prepared (upto 5-hours for a 2-hour class with 8-year olds) - everything would fall through.
But not today. Today my classes with an 8-year old and an 11-year old were fantastic.
We had fun. We talked. We played games. We sang. We did magic tricks. And I actually think they might have learnt something from me.
Anyway...the clock strikes and my class is over. Not once did I have to look at my watch. I couldn't wipe a grin off my face. What satisfaction I felt from a job well done. Until I saw big black blotches of ink. Everywhere.
On the rich silk cloth of the dining table. On the rich silk cover of the dining table chair. On the expensive Kashmiri carpet.
The grandmother walks in to thank me for the lesson. She sees the ink.
'Where did this come from? was this like this from before?' she asks the kids.
'We don't know, we didn't do anything,' they say.
I spot the same black blotches on my bag. Holy crap! they were from my bag in which my black pen had leaked.
I turn a deaf ear.
'No worries, I will put it in the wash,' she says.
Wait till she sees the chair and the carpet, I think.
I pack my bag furiously and hide it under my winter jacket as I leave, so that she doesn't see the big black blotch on my bag. I scurry out as if I had robbed something.
I think I am going to get a phone call tomorrow asking me if I was the culprit.
Should I own up? do you think they will sack me? or make me come over and clean it? or pay for the dry-cleaning?
But it wasn't my fault. It's not like I did it on purpose. Besides, I couldn't even find the black pen responsible for this mini-disaster.
Shyt.
But not today. Today my classes with an 8-year old and an 11-year old were fantastic.
We had fun. We talked. We played games. We sang. We did magic tricks. And I actually think they might have learnt something from me.
Anyway...the clock strikes and my class is over. Not once did I have to look at my watch. I couldn't wipe a grin off my face. What satisfaction I felt from a job well done. Until I saw big black blotches of ink. Everywhere.
On the rich silk cloth of the dining table. On the rich silk cover of the dining table chair. On the expensive Kashmiri carpet.
The grandmother walks in to thank me for the lesson. She sees the ink.
'Where did this come from? was this like this from before?' she asks the kids.
'We don't know, we didn't do anything,' they say.
I spot the same black blotches on my bag. Holy crap! they were from my bag in which my black pen had leaked.
I turn a deaf ear.
'No worries, I will put it in the wash,' she says.
Wait till she sees the chair and the carpet, I think.
I pack my bag furiously and hide it under my winter jacket as I leave, so that she doesn't see the big black blotch on my bag. I scurry out as if I had robbed something.
I think I am going to get a phone call tomorrow asking me if I was the culprit.
Should I own up? do you think they will sack me? or make me come over and clean it? or pay for the dry-cleaning?
But it wasn't my fault. It's not like I did it on purpose. Besides, I couldn't even find the black pen responsible for this mini-disaster.
Shyt.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
A TEFL course full of surprises
The TEFL (Teaching English as Foreign Language) course that I have just finished was one full of surprises. It also made me do things I would otherwise NEVER do in my life:
- I learnt how to join 9 dots (in lines of 3) with 4 lines.
Once learnt, everyone did it again but differently. His point was to demonstrate the differences in perceptions when speaking the same language. Imagine what would happen when you don't speak the language of your students!
- In the beginning of the course, he asked us to do a 20 minute presentation on any topic of our choice. All presentations were excellent.
He walked in the next day with a sheet of paper that had chunks of our presentations written, that were full of slang. They weren't even full sentences. He wanted to stress how much slang we use in daily life, and that a foreign language student would never understand us if we spoke the way we do normally.
- On day one - he asked us to write down answers to 20 questions. Including name, birthday, favourite movie, hobbies, favourite teachers in our lives etc.
The next day he came in remembering all our names (x9 students), birthdays and favourite movies. Stressing the importance of making your students feel important in class by knowing and remembering things about them.
At the end of the course he made us read out the names of our favourite teachers and why we loved them - those points were added to our 'how to be a good teacher' lists.
- In one of the classes, the professor taught the class standing on his table. He dramatically lit and smoked a cigar half way through as a break. It was a 'keeping our attention' activity. We couldn't take our eyes off him.
-To explain to us the importance of props in class he came in one day with a Russian hat on, made us breakfast (toast, oranges and orange juice) that ended in a shot of whisky. (at 10am!)
- For extra credit, we had to go watch a movie in Korean and write a review.
- Just like he asked us 20 questions, we had the right to ask him one question each.
Some idiot asked him 'what is the meaning of life'?
He landed up doing a whole class on that, as an example of how absolutely anything can be used to teach in a foreign language class.
He told us what he thought was the meaning of life, made us listen to some great music, and then made us meditate!
-And lastly, our final class included a lesson in Bulgarian.
Yes. It was to make us understand how you feel when you have a teacher in the class who doesn't speak your language.
The course was 120 hours, so I cannot go into everything. Definitely a class and teacher I will never forget.
- I learnt how to join 9 dots (in lines of 3) with 4 lines.
Once learnt, everyone did it again but differently. His point was to demonstrate the differences in perceptions when speaking the same language. Imagine what would happen when you don't speak the language of your students!
- In the beginning of the course, he asked us to do a 20 minute presentation on any topic of our choice. All presentations were excellent.
He walked in the next day with a sheet of paper that had chunks of our presentations written, that were full of slang. They weren't even full sentences. He wanted to stress how much slang we use in daily life, and that a foreign language student would never understand us if we spoke the way we do normally.
- On day one - he asked us to write down answers to 20 questions. Including name, birthday, favourite movie, hobbies, favourite teachers in our lives etc.
The next day he came in remembering all our names (x9 students), birthdays and favourite movies. Stressing the importance of making your students feel important in class by knowing and remembering things about them.
At the end of the course he made us read out the names of our favourite teachers and why we loved them - those points were added to our 'how to be a good teacher' lists.
- In one of the classes, the professor taught the class standing on his table. He dramatically lit and smoked a cigar half way through as a break. It was a 'keeping our attention' activity. We couldn't take our eyes off him.
-To explain to us the importance of props in class he came in one day with a Russian hat on, made us breakfast (toast, oranges and orange juice) that ended in a shot of whisky. (at 10am!)
- For extra credit, we had to go watch a movie in Korean and write a review.
- Just like he asked us 20 questions, we had the right to ask him one question each.
Some idiot asked him 'what is the meaning of life'?
He landed up doing a whole class on that, as an example of how absolutely anything can be used to teach in a foreign language class.
He told us what he thought was the meaning of life, made us listen to some great music, and then made us meditate!
-And lastly, our final class included a lesson in Bulgarian.
Yes. It was to make us understand how you feel when you have a teacher in the class who doesn't speak your language.
The course was 120 hours, so I cannot go into everything. Definitely a class and teacher I will never forget.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
A girl's best friend(s)...
My ex-flatmates from when I lived in Valencia came to Madrid this weekend to see me, and hit the gay party scene. Of course I was going to be part of it, there was no question.
NB: We are talking about gay men. Lesbians are not in the picture.
I go to pick them up at Zara. Of course they are already shopping.
One of them was wearing a black suade coat, suade trousers, pointy leather shoes and a scarf around his neck. The other was in his ripped Armani jeans, silver shoes and cool denim jacket. They would classify as pretty 'happening' should I have been a man on the pull!
'Oh darling there you are! how are you gorgeous girl?' they say, and run to give me the biggest bear hugs. They clutch me from either side and we begin striding down Gran Via.
'So how are things? how is Madrid? how many boys have you taken home so far? Look at the clothes we just bought!'
I so felt like Carrie Bradshaw walking down 5th Avenue gigling with Stanford (in my case Stanford x 2).
I love having conversations with these friends of mine. They are the most open minded people to speak to. You can talk about the silliest, strangest or dirtiest thing to them like you were talking about the weather. It's awesome.
So after our chat and gossip about everything in-around-and-about Valencia and Madrid, we go to Chueca for a few copas.
Chueca, as you may have guessed, is THE gay barrio in the centre of Madrid. And it was rocking. Heaving with men from all walks of life, from all over the world, wearing all sorts of things, in the street with litres of alcohol. Talking, smoking, kissing, pinching asses, or merely checking out asses they would like to pinch.
And then there was me.
A 27 year-old Indian girl checking out unavailable guys with her gay friends. There was something very surreal and liberating about it.
We hit a club. Not a gay club, but it could have been. There must have been about 400 people in there - 5 of whom were women. There was a even line outside the men's bathroom! I have never seen that in a club.
We rocked to the tunes of George Michael and Boy George - there were some super dancers.
It wasn't long before I got noticed and got hit on in the nicest and weirdest ways ever.
"Oh look! When I see such gorgeous girls, I get confused about my sexuality."
"You dance really well. Can we dance? don't worry I'm gay. And smell my dreads, they don't stink!"
"Darling are you lost? come let daddy show you the way." [huh?]
"Get off the phone! If he is a guy, and he is not here - forget about him". [ I didn't quite get that one either].
Anyway...super night. Great music. Great dancing. Great conversation (love, sex, lovers, prostitutes, balls and underwear). Lot's of alcohol. And a piggy back home.
NB: We are talking about gay men. Lesbians are not in the picture.
I go to pick them up at Zara. Of course they are already shopping.
One of them was wearing a black suade coat, suade trousers, pointy leather shoes and a scarf around his neck. The other was in his ripped Armani jeans, silver shoes and cool denim jacket. They would classify as pretty 'happening' should I have been a man on the pull!
'Oh darling there you are! how are you gorgeous girl?' they say, and run to give me the biggest bear hugs. They clutch me from either side and we begin striding down Gran Via.
'So how are things? how is Madrid? how many boys have you taken home so far? Look at the clothes we just bought!'
I so felt like Carrie Bradshaw walking down 5th Avenue gigling with Stanford (in my case Stanford x 2).
I love having conversations with these friends of mine. They are the most open minded people to speak to. You can talk about the silliest, strangest or dirtiest thing to them like you were talking about the weather. It's awesome.
So after our chat and gossip about everything in-around-and-about Valencia and Madrid, we go to Chueca for a few copas.
Chueca, as you may have guessed, is THE gay barrio in the centre of Madrid. And it was rocking. Heaving with men from all walks of life, from all over the world, wearing all sorts of things, in the street with litres of alcohol. Talking, smoking, kissing, pinching asses, or merely checking out asses they would like to pinch.
And then there was me.
A 27 year-old Indian girl checking out unavailable guys with her gay friends. There was something very surreal and liberating about it.
We hit a club. Not a gay club, but it could have been. There must have been about 400 people in there - 5 of whom were women. There was a even line outside the men's bathroom! I have never seen that in a club.
We rocked to the tunes of George Michael and Boy George - there were some super dancers.
It wasn't long before I got noticed and got hit on in the nicest and weirdest ways ever.
"Oh look! When I see such gorgeous girls, I get confused about my sexuality."
"You dance really well. Can we dance? don't worry I'm gay. And smell my dreads, they don't stink!"
"Darling are you lost? come let daddy show you the way." [huh?]
"Get off the phone! If he is a guy, and he is not here - forget about him". [ I didn't quite get that one either].
Anyway...super night. Great music. Great dancing. Great conversation (love, sex, lovers, prostitutes, balls and underwear). Lot's of alcohol. And a piggy back home.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Globorati
A new friend of mine, who actually found me through Gridskipper, and moved to Valencia, and just happens to being living in what used to me my room (!!!) has got together with some amigos and recently launched this kick-ass blog called Globorati.
It focusses on giving you the latest luxury travel news, offers, openings, from across the globe, with a different spin. There are a million travel blogs/information providers out there - so it's hard to stand out. This one does. Do check it out when you can.
PS: Yes, the world is a tissue.
It focusses on giving you the latest luxury travel news, offers, openings, from across the globe, with a different spin. There are a million travel blogs/information providers out there - so it's hard to stand out. This one does. Do check it out when you can.
PS: Yes, the world is a tissue.
English Grammar
Not only is the TEFL course I am doing widening my horizons, but it is also revealing a world of English Grammar I did not know existed.
- Appositives
- Interjections
- Nominative Objects
- Modal Verbs
- Modal Auxillary Verbs
- Transitive Verbs
- Modifiers
- Contractions
- Quantifiers
HUH?
And those are just some that I can remember.
The thing is, we use all this shit when we speak, we just don't know what it is. I have some serious grammar reading to do. *sigh*
- Appositives
- Interjections
- Nominative Objects
- Modal Verbs
- Modal Auxillary Verbs
- Transitive Verbs
- Modifiers
- Contractions
- Quantifiers
HUH?
And those are just some that I can remember.
The thing is, we use all this shit when we speak, we just don't know what it is. I have some serious grammar reading to do. *sigh*
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Hannibal
So today in my TEFL class, we were asked to rename our classmates. An exercise which will be used later to teach us how to remember names of our students. Anyway, we all had to come up with names and then there would be a deciding vote.
Now, one of my classmates gave me the nick name Hannibal. HANNIBAL.
What I am a serial-killer-human-flesh-eater now? When I (jovially) confronted him for an explanation, he said - noooo not Hannibal Lecter, the A-Team ball-crusher Hannibal. WHAT?
What sort of vibes have I been radiating in my class!? Although, sure - I hope - it was in good humour, but I have to say I was offended. I have never had a decent conversation with anyone in my group, let alone a brawl or anything fatal. Why in the world did HANNIBAL come up!? and why did the rest find that funny!?
If they hated me that much, they could have given me a mean woman name, like Cat Woman or something stupid like Olive Oyl from Popeye. But HANNIBAL!?
Thank goodness that name didn't get the majority vote. I would have cried.
Now, one of my classmates gave me the nick name Hannibal. HANNIBAL.
What I am a serial-killer-human-flesh-eater now? When I (jovially) confronted him for an explanation, he said - noooo not Hannibal Lecter, the A-Team ball-crusher Hannibal. WHAT?
What sort of vibes have I been radiating in my class!? Although, sure - I hope - it was in good humour, but I have to say I was offended. I have never had a decent conversation with anyone in my group, let alone a brawl or anything fatal. Why in the world did HANNIBAL come up!? and why did the rest find that funny!?
If they hated me that much, they could have given me a mean woman name, like Cat Woman or something stupid like Olive Oyl from Popeye. But HANNIBAL!?
Thank goodness that name didn't get the majority vote. I would have cried.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
The sweet agony of travel journalism
It is not my story to tell, but it is Frank J Peter's - editor-in-chief of travel portal Concierge.com (Condé Nast Traveler Online). It is rare to find stories that cut out the crap and give you a real peak into something that is otherwise over-glorified - in this case travel journalism - so when you do, it's a must read.
My latest post at Written Road highlights this recently appeared article, check it out here.
My latest post at Written Road highlights this recently appeared article, check it out here.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
To many things, too little time
Between 6 hours of TEFL everyday, TEFL homework, looking for an apartment, trying to keep up writing for the websites I write for, and falling sick, my two favourite things: blogging and dancing have taken a back seat. Forget about other things like reading, Spanish, watching movies, checking out the city and eating tapas. Just can't keep up with the million things I need to do, or get done. Bad excuses, right? yeah I think so too. Need to get some serious time-management into gear.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Little eccentricities of the day
- It's my birthday today, and the first Happy Birthday sms I receive is from Bancaja - my bank in Spain.
- The American founder and owner of the TEFL school I am going to speaks 5 languages fluently and is writing a book on Sai Baba.
- I heard this horrible story of a Japanese student being killed abroad because of language miscommunication. The 16 year old boy dressed for Halloween turned up at the wrong house and was shot by the owner for not understanding what was meant by 'freeze'. After this incident, Harvard made all their international students do a course in American slang - one of the teachers of this course is in my class.
- I met a 91-year old grandmother on the tube who told me all about her husband who had many lovers. She thinks (hopes rather) it is what killed him 20 years ago.
- I had a tuna, walnut and wine sandwich for lunch. Ugh.
- I went to the ham museum (more on that later).
Living abroad is great.
- The American founder and owner of the TEFL school I am going to speaks 5 languages fluently and is writing a book on Sai Baba.
- I heard this horrible story of a Japanese student being killed abroad because of language miscommunication. The 16 year old boy dressed for Halloween turned up at the wrong house and was shot by the owner for not understanding what was meant by 'freeze'. After this incident, Harvard made all their international students do a course in American slang - one of the teachers of this course is in my class.
- I met a 91-year old grandmother on the tube who told me all about her husband who had many lovers. She thinks (hopes rather) it is what killed him 20 years ago.
- I had a tuna, walnut and wine sandwich for lunch. Ugh.
- I went to the ham museum (more on that later).
Living abroad is great.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Magic Monday in Madrid
I think it's a mistake to come to a new place on a Friday night. You have no one to go out with over the weekend (sitting in bar on your own your first day can be depressing), and nor can you get anything done since everything is closed. So you land up in your room wailing and whining to yourself about how you miss home and asking yourself why do you keep uprooting your life? What was the point of coming here anyway? (only when you are missionless like me, of course :)
All that takes a 180 degree flip come Monday morning. The city is hustling and bustling. All of a sudden you have a million things to do. Went to the school where I will be doing my TEFL, got my schedule, met some nice people, opened a bank account, booked some appointments to see apartments, visited the police station for details on my residency, and checked out some cool barrios. It's like this Monday morning gave me purpose, kept me busy and made me realise that I live here now - so I have half a smile on my face, just the reassurance I needed. Yes, I know I am a bit dramatic at times. Yes dad you were right. You always are.
All that takes a 180 degree flip come Monday morning. The city is hustling and bustling. All of a sudden you have a million things to do. Went to the school where I will be doing my TEFL, got my schedule, met some nice people, opened a bank account, booked some appointments to see apartments, visited the police station for details on my residency, and checked out some cool barrios. It's like this Monday morning gave me purpose, kept me busy and made me realise that I live here now - so I have half a smile on my face, just the reassurance I needed. Yes, I know I am a bit dramatic at times. Yes dad you were right. You always are.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
In Madrid
Arrived last night after a sleepless 16 hours of traveling and my heart in my mouth. For the first time I have landed in a foreign land, and it hasn´t felt right. I find that weird since I was so ready to get on that plane. It´s like I´m in Spain so I should be in Valencia, but I am not. I am lost and alone in a big city with no solid purpose other than to live abroad, be fluent in Spanish and write. But that was an informed choice. Didn´t quite feel this way last time though.
I opened my suitcase this morning and smelt home. All my clothes washed with Persil and my mum´s favourite Baby Softner. Perhaps all of a sudden I am overcome with the need to belong somewhere. Something that is not going to happen for the next few years. Guess all will be fine once I start going to school and find an apartment. It´s just the initial drama that comes with moving.
Read this on one of my reader´s blogs this morning and it couldn´t describe how I feel better:
´I have become a strange mixture of East and West. Out of place everywhere, at home nowhere.´-Jawaharlal Nehru.
I opened my suitcase this morning and smelt home. All my clothes washed with Persil and my mum´s favourite Baby Softner. Perhaps all of a sudden I am overcome with the need to belong somewhere. Something that is not going to happen for the next few years. Guess all will be fine once I start going to school and find an apartment. It´s just the initial drama that comes with moving.
Read this on one of my reader´s blogs this morning and it couldn´t describe how I feel better:
´I have become a strange mixture of East and West. Out of place everywhere, at home nowhere.´-Jawaharlal Nehru.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Adios Dubai: Part 2
Am off to Madrid tomorrow morning. This time it's Madrid, not Valencia because it's a bigger city with more opportunities, and it is international yet thoroughly Spanish. The plan is to get certified in Spanish (DELE), travel and write; and well, some income would be a good idea so will teach English...after learning how to teach English (TEFL) of course.
Since I am changing city, I will be starting off from zero again. Although I have a huge knot in my stomach, that is what I find exciting, so it's all cool.
'Abha you have been to Spain once, you had a blast for 6 months, what are you going back for?' is the question that I have been asked a million times over the last month. Honestly, I have no solid answer. I am still as lost as ever, scavenging for direction.
I read this line the other day (cannot remember where) and it brought to me the biggest smile:
If you don't know where you are going, you can never get lost :)
All I know is that I am doing this because I enjoy it and can afford to do it. And yes, I secretly hope it will help me figure out what I want to do with myself. But who knows.
The only thing that hurts when I move is goodbye hugs to family - always dramatic in my house, so tears are guaranteed. Sometimes I think we are too close for our own good. But then again, I wouldn't have it any other way.
Close friends I don't say goodbye to. I stick to 'see you later aligator', and it's way easier. And I truly believe that those people who want to stay in your life, will, no matter where you are. Thanks to the Internet, there is really no excuse.
I will arrive late tomorrow night and my cousin brother has some friends in the capital who have been kind enough to let me bunk with them until I find my own place.
I need to sort out my paper work once I get there, but assuming that all goes well, the plan is to be there for a year.
How will this year help me later? Don't know, don't care.
Whatever happens, if nothing else I will have some good stories to blog about :)
Am flying Qatar Airways. This will be my first time on a Gulf airline. No, 10 years in Dubai and I have never traveled Emirates.
Hasta pronto chicos, do stay tuned.
Since I am changing city, I will be starting off from zero again. Although I have a huge knot in my stomach, that is what I find exciting, so it's all cool.
'Abha you have been to Spain once, you had a blast for 6 months, what are you going back for?' is the question that I have been asked a million times over the last month. Honestly, I have no solid answer. I am still as lost as ever, scavenging for direction.
I read this line the other day (cannot remember where) and it brought to me the biggest smile:
If you don't know where you are going, you can never get lost :)
All I know is that I am doing this because I enjoy it and can afford to do it. And yes, I secretly hope it will help me figure out what I want to do with myself. But who knows.
The only thing that hurts when I move is goodbye hugs to family - always dramatic in my house, so tears are guaranteed. Sometimes I think we are too close for our own good. But then again, I wouldn't have it any other way.
Close friends I don't say goodbye to. I stick to 'see you later aligator', and it's way easier. And I truly believe that those people who want to stay in your life, will, no matter where you are. Thanks to the Internet, there is really no excuse.
I will arrive late tomorrow night and my cousin brother has some friends in the capital who have been kind enough to let me bunk with them until I find my own place.
I need to sort out my paper work once I get there, but assuming that all goes well, the plan is to be there for a year.
How will this year help me later? Don't know, don't care.
Whatever happens, if nothing else I will have some good stories to blog about :)
Am flying Qatar Airways. This will be my first time on a Gulf airline. No, 10 years in Dubai and I have never traveled Emirates.
Hasta pronto chicos, do stay tuned.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Movie Review: Salaam-e-Shit
We couldn't even bear to stay past the intermission of Salaam-e-Ishq.All the 12 star-cast in this Love Actually rip-off film are annoying. Not much was expected from the likes of Ayesha Takia, Sohail Khan or Anjana Sukhani (who is she anyway?), but even Salman Khan, Akshaye Khanna and Priyanka Chopra are disgracefully annoying in the film.
Vidya Balan, the best actress in the film, could have given it some hope but is linked to John Abraham, the worst actor in the film, and is put into a coma right in the beginning.
Not to mention that they all look their worst in this movie. Vidya Balan looks fat, and John Abraham's ultra-poker straight hair is all you see. You can see Ayesha Takia's blackheads and a scar on her upperlip that is in more focus than anything else. Priyanka Chopra is not the glam girl I thought she would be on screen, Soheil Khan is just ugly and Salman Khan you just want to slap.
Ishaa Koppikar is the hottest but hardly has a role, and Juhi and Anil Kapoor actually look ok for their age.
The only exception was Govinda. He is awesome. He stays true to his reputation of really knowing how to make the dummest thing look genuinely funny. He is complemented by his onscreen American girlfriend Shannon Isra - who is a gori (white-chick) in a Hindi blockbuster who, for a change, can actually act. Or maybe our actors surrounding her in the film were so crap, that she was tolerable.
The script is awful, the scenes tried too hard to be funny. I laughed a lot, but at the film and at the people laughing with the film rather than at the film. More amusing than anything were the English subtitles. The movie name is translated to 'love's sweet salute,' need I say more?
The music is the only saving grace. Great songs and the full-of-energy dance sequences are actually fun to watch.
As much as I was interested to see how all the 6 couples get 'connected through fate and love', I decided that reading the ending would be less excruciating than sitting through another two hours of absolute crap.
Friday, January 26, 2007
Revelation
Deep in conversation with a close cousin of mine last night, I think he hit the bullseye on one of the [many] million dollar questions in my life: 'why haven't I been able to keep a boyfriend for more than 3 months?'
He said: "You are the guy's best friend, confidant, and lover. You are a laugh, do not nag, do not expect flowers, and you prefer to maintain most aspects of your independent life. You like few people, and when you do, you do everything to keep them in your life, selflessly, with minimum drama.'
For me, the above is effortless. To me it is how I want my partner to be. You get what you give, right?
Apparently not. You need to be slightly possessive, you need to express your feelings - no matter how stupid they are. You need to be less accommodating and less available. You need to stop giving them the benefit of the doubt. You need to let them know that if you aren't treated right, you will not be around.
You have to make it about YOU, because if you don't, it never will be and you will remain everybody's taken for granted sidekick.
Ouch.
Recommended solution: I need to inject some ego into my system and take a high intravenous dose of self-pride.
He said: "You are the guy's best friend, confidant, and lover. You are a laugh, do not nag, do not expect flowers, and you prefer to maintain most aspects of your independent life. You like few people, and when you do, you do everything to keep them in your life, selflessly, with minimum drama.'
For me, the above is effortless. To me it is how I want my partner to be. You get what you give, right?
Apparently not. You need to be slightly possessive, you need to express your feelings - no matter how stupid they are. You need to be less accommodating and less available. You need to stop giving them the benefit of the doubt. You need to let them know that if you aren't treated right, you will not be around.
You have to make it about YOU, because if you don't, it never will be and you will remain everybody's taken for granted sidekick.
Ouch.
Recommended solution: I need to inject some ego into my system and take a high intravenous dose of self-pride.
Real blogging from WEF: straight from the horse's mouth!
So the point of my post below is now redundant after I received an email today from Jeff Jarvis of the Buzz Machine - one of the official bloggers for the '07 WEF.
He wrote:
'No, the WEF is doing nothing to our posts; they go up automatically after we post them on our own blogs. I don't know what happened in the past but note that your link to Ethan is from last year...'
Excellent to know from someone on the inside.
NB: do read his bio - he has phenomenal credentials.
He wrote:
'No, the WEF is doing nothing to our posts; they go up automatically after we post them on our own blogs. I don't know what happened in the past but note that your link to Ethan is from last year...'
Excellent to know from someone on the inside.
NB: do read his bio - he has phenomenal credentials.
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