Answers to some the eternal questions we have when we are in the beginning of a relationship:
Q. He called yesterday, when should I call back?
If you call back too soon, you are desperate; if you don't you're not interested enough.
Answer: It doesn't really matter, you are screwed both ways.
Q.We had dinner last night, he said he'd call me Monday. It's Tuesday and he hasn't called. What should you do?
If you call him, you are the one who wants him more - ego crap; if you don't and he never lands up calling, you will never know what would have been.
Answer: It doesn't really matter, you are screwed both ways.
Q. He makes plans with me all the time, should I always be available?
If you play hard to get, he might say, screw this; if you are always available to go out, do anything as long as you're hanging out, (irrespective of the fact that you really just like him and are generally not fussed) you get walked over.
Answer: It doesn't really matter, you are screwed both ways.
Q. You slept with him for the first time, and he didn't call the next day. What do you do?
If you call him, you're the desperate one ('it's-the-guy-who-has-to-call-the-next-day-crap'), if he calls you after three days and then you don't answer, you have begun a stupid ego game; if you do answer, it's like you were waiting by the phone.
Answer: It doesn't really matter, you are screwed both ways.
Q. Talking about how you feel. When can you start sharing your feelings without losing too much of your dignity?
If you say what you feel, you put yourself on the line - high chances he will not say what you want him to and you will feel like shit. If you don't, you are accumulating a whole lot of shit inside you that will come out horribly another day.
Answer: It doesn't really matter, you are screwed both ways.
Q.I feel uncomfortable in the relationship because I think he may be seeing other people - how soon is too soon to confront him about this without seeming like an inquisitive nag?
If you ask him in under two months, you are in too deep and need to get a life; if you don't, and he is seeing other people, it will continue and when you find out it will be too late.
Answer: It doesn't really matter, you are screwed both ways.
Q. Be clear about what you want. How much do you adapt to being who the other person wants you to be?
Don't try to change yourself to suit what the other person wants - and you are selfish and stubborn. Change and give-in - you will be the one hurting later.
Answer: It doesn't really matter, you are screwed both ways.
Q. Do you give him the benefit of the doubt?
If you don't give the guy you are dating the benefit of the doubt - what's the point of dating him when you have negative thoughts? If you do, you land-up believing exactly what you want to believe, which is rarely the truth.
Answer: It doesn't really matter, you are screwed both ways.
Q.The relationship was great, but you both want different things, so saying adios is the healthy option. Can you still be friends?
If you choose not to change to 'friend mode', other than the sex you didn't value rest of the relationship - how could you not want him in your life anymore? if you decide you can be friends, you are easy with anything - all those other feelings didn't have much meaning.
Answer: It doesn't really matter, you are screwed both ways.
On a positive note:
Lesson Learnt: You might as well do exactly what you want, because the consequences will probably be rather similar.
*Phew* it's almost relieving to realise that all the nonsense pondering we do over stupid stuff like this is really not worth it.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Frugal Traveler in Dubai!
The NY Time's Frugal Traveler Matt Gross finally made it to Dubai. And wrote a brilliant piece.
Other than it being an enjoyable read, what I really appreciated about this piece is how he managed to see beneath Dubai's glittery shit, and talk more about the few 'normal' things you can do there.
Those familiar with Dubai will understand why I had the biggest smile when I saw the 'what to see' recommendations included:
-Al Mallah
-Saj Express
-Club Africana at the Rush-Inn Hotel :)
(They are probably some of the best places to go, but you will never hear about them in Dubai's publicity)
Some extracts:
"It's probably very normal for people to wake up in Dubai, realize they have money in their pockets, and set out to spend it. But for the Frugal Traveler, it’s a rare and nerve-wracking moment...
What I wanted from Dubai was not preconceived amusements but the accidental by-products of globalization — like Club Africana, or the happy clash of cultures at a house party. Not only were they cheaper, they felt more truly Dubai than the multimillion-dollar attractions, and I counted myself fortunate my low budget had driven me to seek them out."
Other than it being an enjoyable read, what I really appreciated about this piece is how he managed to see beneath Dubai's glittery shit, and talk more about the few 'normal' things you can do there.
Those familiar with Dubai will understand why I had the biggest smile when I saw the 'what to see' recommendations included:
-Al Mallah
-Saj Express
-Club Africana at the Rush-Inn Hotel :)
(They are probably some of the best places to go, but you will never hear about them in Dubai's publicity)
Some extracts:
"It's probably very normal for people to wake up in Dubai, realize they have money in their pockets, and set out to spend it. But for the Frugal Traveler, it’s a rare and nerve-wracking moment...
What I wanted from Dubai was not preconceived amusements but the accidental by-products of globalization — like Club Africana, or the happy clash of cultures at a house party. Not only were they cheaper, they felt more truly Dubai than the multimillion-dollar attractions, and I counted myself fortunate my low budget had driven me to seek them out."
Galicia Round-Up
Galicia is beautiful. Small and dainty, very green, very traditional.
I ate octupus, Gallegan soup, 'tit cheese' and Gallegan bread; and octupus, Gallegan soup and tit cheese and Gallegan bread :)
Although the sight of octupus (especially it's tenticles) made me want to throw-up because although it's dead on your plate, it's easy to imagine it alive and breathing heavily through it's ugly pores, I really liked it.
Was in A Coruña for two days, Santiago de Compostela for a day, and Finisterre (the end of the world!) for a day.
Incase you were wondering, there is really nothing 'at the end of the world', except a steel boot and a rather ugly lighthouse; but what the hell - it's the end of the world!
Here are some photos. Stories to follow!
A Coruña - El Costa de Muerte
Old part of A Coruña
Ugliest sculpture I have ever seen
Santiago's Cathedral
View from the 'end of the world'!
I ate octupus, Gallegan soup, 'tit cheese' and Gallegan bread; and octupus, Gallegan soup and tit cheese and Gallegan bread :)
Although the sight of octupus (especially it's tenticles) made me want to throw-up because although it's dead on your plate, it's easy to imagine it alive and breathing heavily through it's ugly pores, I really liked it.
Was in A Coruña for two days, Santiago de Compostela for a day, and Finisterre (the end of the world!) for a day.
Incase you were wondering, there is really nothing 'at the end of the world', except a steel boot and a rather ugly lighthouse; but what the hell - it's the end of the world!
Here are some photos. Stories to follow!
A Coruña - El Costa de Muerte
Old part of A Coruña
Ugliest sculpture I have ever seen
Santiago's Cathedral
View from the 'end of the world'!
Wander the streets. Lose yourself.
That's the subject of my latest post on Written Road. It follows a good write up in the IHT by original founder of Wallpaper* and editor-in-chief of Monocle, Tyler Brûlé.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Off to Galicia!
So tomorrow straight after my DELE exam (thank goodness, it will finally be over!), I will drive up to Galicia (North of Spain) for 4 days! The plan is Acoruna, Finnisterre, and Santiago de Compostela - I can't wait!
Monday, May 07, 2007
Half-robbed (?)
I felt someone approaching me as I began to withdraw money from an ATM.
"Give me money," he said.
He was a skinny, teethless, smelly bugger with alcohol roaring out of his breath.
"Ok, I will," I said, really not knowing how else to respond.
I hadn't completed the transaction, and he wouldn't let me touch the screen. I guess he thought I would cancel the action.
"I am not going to hurt you. JUST GIVE ME MONEY," he shouted.
By the way, it was 11:30am on a beautiful sunny morning.
"OK!" I shouted back, but you have to let me complete the transaction.
And he did. I was afraid he'd snatch my bank card, but he didn't - he snatched the Euro 40 I was withdrawing.
He counted the money, looked at me, and gave me 20 back.
HUH?
I walked home, shaken but amused and relieved at the same time.
"Give me money," he said.
He was a skinny, teethless, smelly bugger with alcohol roaring out of his breath.
"Ok, I will," I said, really not knowing how else to respond.
I hadn't completed the transaction, and he wouldn't let me touch the screen. I guess he thought I would cancel the action.
"I am not going to hurt you. JUST GIVE ME MONEY," he shouted.
By the way, it was 11:30am on a beautiful sunny morning.
"OK!" I shouted back, but you have to let me complete the transaction.
And he did. I was afraid he'd snatch my bank card, but he didn't - he snatched the Euro 40 I was withdrawing.
He counted the money, looked at me, and gave me 20 back.
HUH?
I walked home, shaken but amused and relieved at the same time.
Prostitution on the dance floor?
He was 75, and he asked me to dance.
Respecting him as if he was my grandfather, and finding him harmless, I agreed. Ok, I exaggerate - I suppose he was 60, at least.
The dance was tolerable. He had a funny style; I had to bite my lip so as to not burst out laughing. But it was fine.
A few minutes later, he asked me if he could buy me a drink, to which I politely declined.
Then he asked if he could talk to me.
"Where are you from?" he asked me.
"India," I say.
"Wow. I have never met anyone from India. I've always wanted to go there."
"Ok" I say.
He continues: "You dance very well, where did you learn?"
"In India," I say - by now hoping my one word answers would give him the hint that I really have no interest talking to him.
As if he got the hint, he got straight to the point. "I need a dance partner for the rest of the year, and was wondering if you would consider?"
Me: (blank look)
"You would come with me to all my classes and whenever I go out dancing socially," he adds.
"Actually I don't really have time to dance much," I say, "besides I travel alot, so wouldn't be able to commit to anything."
"Well, I'd pay you," he says.
Me: (WHAT?)
"No, I'm sorry I cannot do it," was all I could muster after that, and I walked away with disgust. He even had the nerve to ask me for another dance after that. As if it was perfectly normal for us to have that conversation.
I left that night in thought. Was I just subjected to a polite form of prostitution? Or am I making a mountain of a mole hill?
There are a few things in Spain that make me question my morals. Simply because of the normalcy people treat them with here. I'm not clear on whether it's Spain or Europe, but since I am here - let's just stick to Spain for the moment.
Openly having more than one amante (lover) is another - fidelity isn't too common here. Being with one person is what is questionable, and almost unheard of. Also having a good job where you earn more than 1000 Euros is uncommon, and it really isn't uncommon living all your life washing dishes, or herding sheep. And, remember I'm in Madrid.
Perhaps I'm just in the wrong - or let's say 'different'- circles. Or perhaps I take things too seriously - be it life, making a living or men. See what I mean?
I suppose everything is relative.
Hmmm.
Respecting him as if he was my grandfather, and finding him harmless, I agreed. Ok, I exaggerate - I suppose he was 60, at least.
The dance was tolerable. He had a funny style; I had to bite my lip so as to not burst out laughing. But it was fine.
A few minutes later, he asked me if he could buy me a drink, to which I politely declined.
Then he asked if he could talk to me.
"Where are you from?" he asked me.
"India," I say.
"Wow. I have never met anyone from India. I've always wanted to go there."
"Ok" I say.
He continues: "You dance very well, where did you learn?"
"In India," I say - by now hoping my one word answers would give him the hint that I really have no interest talking to him.
As if he got the hint, he got straight to the point. "I need a dance partner for the rest of the year, and was wondering if you would consider?"
Me: (blank look)
"You would come with me to all my classes and whenever I go out dancing socially," he adds.
"Actually I don't really have time to dance much," I say, "besides I travel alot, so wouldn't be able to commit to anything."
"Well, I'd pay you," he says.
Me: (WHAT?)
"No, I'm sorry I cannot do it," was all I could muster after that, and I walked away with disgust. He even had the nerve to ask me for another dance after that. As if it was perfectly normal for us to have that conversation.
I left that night in thought. Was I just subjected to a polite form of prostitution? Or am I making a mountain of a mole hill?
There are a few things in Spain that make me question my morals. Simply because of the normalcy people treat them with here. I'm not clear on whether it's Spain or Europe, but since I am here - let's just stick to Spain for the moment.
Openly having more than one amante (lover) is another - fidelity isn't too common here. Being with one person is what is questionable, and almost unheard of. Also having a good job where you earn more than 1000 Euros is uncommon, and it really isn't uncommon living all your life washing dishes, or herding sheep. And, remember I'm in Madrid.
Perhaps I'm just in the wrong - or let's say 'different'- circles. Or perhaps I take things too seriously - be it life, making a living or men. See what I mean?
I suppose everything is relative.
Hmmm.
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Logic please?
A fleeting thought I have absolutley every time I use the metro (which would be twice a day, atleast) is: why the hell doesn't any metro station in Madrid have a bathroom?!
Running from one side of Madrid to the other all day, it almost makes me mad when I can't run to the bathroom for a wee in between. I have to find a coffee shop - where until recently I felt bad not having a coffee and just using the bathroom - but now I don't give a shit. I was spending too much money on coffee that I didn't even want to drink.
In a capital city with a population of about 4 million people, atleast half of whom take the metro twice a day if not more, why wouldn't you build toilets?
Running from one side of Madrid to the other all day, it almost makes me mad when I can't run to the bathroom for a wee in between. I have to find a coffee shop - where until recently I felt bad not having a coffee and just using the bathroom - but now I don't give a shit. I was spending too much money on coffee that I didn't even want to drink.
In a capital city with a population of about 4 million people, atleast half of whom take the metro twice a day if not more, why wouldn't you build toilets?
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Spaniards Talk!
I don't know if it's just me and the people I attract, but I have not used the ''time-out" hand gesture in my life, as much as I have used it in Spain.
Spaniards talk. And talk. And talk. And talk. And talk. And talk. And talk. And talk. And talk.
So you cannot wait until they stop to change subject so that you can interject because you need to say that 'I have left the keys on the television', because they won't stop, and you will be standing around till the cows come home.
OK, perhaps to be fair, I should extend the borders of the set here to all Spanish speaking people, rather than restrict to to only Spaniards. They all talk. And talk. And talk.
I used to think I was a talkative pain-in-the-ass; but here, I suffer a serious complex.
It has done great to my foreign language listening skills though - so I'm really not complaining.
They talk loud, over each other, and don't stop. At all. Perhaps that's why they have to talk over each other, because there is really no way of getting a word in edgeways otherwise.
Be it 8am while making coffee at home when I haven't even got both my eyes open, or be it 5am in the morning when we are coming home from a long night out where we have really done nothing much but talk, there is still something someone has to elaborate on.
Other than the neverending list of topics such as: life, family, men, beer, annoying people, work, the weather, hair salons, holiday plans for next year, uncles, food, rabbits, fetishes, the tourists, the English language, the Pope, MySpace, yoga, Zapatero, ETA, Greenpeace, tortilla de patatas and David Bisbal; most of the conversations revolve around who-did-what-how-where-when-why, which will be followed by a
what-he-should-have-done-instead-how-where-when and why.
Let's not even start about when they get on the phone. Minimum 15 minutes. Even if it's someone they've just spent the day with.
The good thing is that I have learnt to tune out. I can look like I am listening and taking every word in, but really I am thinking about what I'm going to teach in my next English class or what I am going to wear for my date next week. I'm really proud of this skill I have acquired.
It's a cultural thing, I think. Comes as part of the social-openess and extrovertness of hispanics. I think that's what it is. I am glad I have learnt to tune out though.
Spaniards talk. And talk. And talk. And talk. And talk. And talk. And talk. And talk. And talk.
So you cannot wait until they stop to change subject so that you can interject because you need to say that 'I have left the keys on the television', because they won't stop, and you will be standing around till the cows come home.
OK, perhaps to be fair, I should extend the borders of the set here to all Spanish speaking people, rather than restrict to to only Spaniards. They all talk. And talk. And talk.
I used to think I was a talkative pain-in-the-ass; but here, I suffer a serious complex.
It has done great to my foreign language listening skills though - so I'm really not complaining.
They talk loud, over each other, and don't stop. At all. Perhaps that's why they have to talk over each other, because there is really no way of getting a word in edgeways otherwise.
Be it 8am while making coffee at home when I haven't even got both my eyes open, or be it 5am in the morning when we are coming home from a long night out where we have really done nothing much but talk, there is still something someone has to elaborate on.
Other than the neverending list of topics such as: life, family, men, beer, annoying people, work, the weather, hair salons, holiday plans for next year, uncles, food, rabbits, fetishes, the tourists, the English language, the Pope, MySpace, yoga, Zapatero, ETA, Greenpeace, tortilla de patatas and David Bisbal; most of the conversations revolve around who-did-what-how-where-when-why, which will be followed by a
what-he-should-have-done-instead-how-where-when and why.
Let's not even start about when they get on the phone. Minimum 15 minutes. Even if it's someone they've just spent the day with.
The good thing is that I have learnt to tune out. I can look like I am listening and taking every word in, but really I am thinking about what I'm going to teach in my next English class or what I am going to wear for my date next week. I'm really proud of this skill I have acquired.
It's a cultural thing, I think. Comes as part of the social-openess and extrovertness of hispanics. I think that's what it is. I am glad I have learnt to tune out though.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Imaginate
*sueño con un mundo diferente
sueño un mundo lleno de color
sueño con un mundo sin fronteras
donde el odio se muera de amor
donde no importe le ideología
donde no importe le religión
que cada una sueñe lo que quiera
y que lo sueñe con ilusión
sueña tu también
el mundo al reves
imaginate
si pudiera ser
sueño las noticias de mentira
sueño que no hay hambre ni dolor
que no hay guerra que en verdad exista
sueña sueños de ciencia ficción
sueño que la planeta esta contento
verdes bosques crecen bajo el sol
sueño que los ríos fluyen limpios
y que sobra yuca, pan y arroz
sueña tu también
el mundo al reves
imaginate
si pudiera ser
lo cierto es que sueño muchas cosas
sueño todas estas, y otras mas
sueño que no hay sueños imposibles
que nunca se pueden alcanzar
sueño con un justa justicia
que ya cada uno pongan en su lugar
sueño que a todos los dictadores
los ataca un virus de bondad
sueña tu también
el mundo al reves
imaginate
si pudiera ser
----
- por grupo - jakaranda
cantante - maida larrain
letras y musica - miguel ruiz de elvira
*es mi canción del año. muy simple, pero muy bonito y profundo en el mismo tiempo. desafortunadamente no existe un link de este canción para que escucháis. me ha impactado mucho. estoy en un tiempo demasiado profunda verdad!?
sueño un mundo lleno de color
sueño con un mundo sin fronteras
donde el odio se muera de amor
donde no importe le ideología
donde no importe le religión
que cada una sueñe lo que quiera
y que lo sueñe con ilusión
sueña tu también
el mundo al reves
imaginate
si pudiera ser
sueño las noticias de mentira
sueño que no hay hambre ni dolor
que no hay guerra que en verdad exista
sueña sueños de ciencia ficción
sueño que la planeta esta contento
verdes bosques crecen bajo el sol
sueño que los ríos fluyen limpios
y que sobra yuca, pan y arroz
sueña tu también
el mundo al reves
imaginate
si pudiera ser
lo cierto es que sueño muchas cosas
sueño todas estas, y otras mas
sueño que no hay sueños imposibles
que nunca se pueden alcanzar
sueño con un justa justicia
que ya cada uno pongan en su lugar
sueño que a todos los dictadores
los ataca un virus de bondad
sueña tu también
el mundo al reves
imaginate
si pudiera ser
----
- por grupo - jakaranda
cantante - maida larrain
letras y musica - miguel ruiz de elvira
*es mi canción del año. muy simple, pero muy bonito y profundo en el mismo tiempo. desafortunadamente no existe un link de este canción para que escucháis. me ha impactado mucho. estoy en un tiempo demasiado profunda verdad!?
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Marriage
My head hurts as I write this post.
I'm a 27 year old, unmarried, Indian girl, with zero decent relationships under my belt.
For Indian society, I am already above marriageable age, and I better get my act together, or I will stay a 'spinster' (God how I hate that word).
"Darling, who will marry you when you are 30?" I often hear my mum saying to me. "By that age, all the good men are taken, and you will be left with divorcees, widowers or people who everybody else has rejected."
WHAT?
I understand my mum's concerns. She believes that there is a 'time' for everything. A time to get married, a time to enjoy your marriage, a time to have children, etc etc. And when you start missing that 'time', things start falling out of place.
I do have respect for the arranged marriage scene and I have seen it work across most of my family.
A cousin of mine once explained the concept to some Spanish friends in a wonderful way: "Western people first fall in love, get married, and then worry about all the problems they have to worry about (families getting along, finances, future, life plans etc). In India, we do it the other way around. First we clarify all the foreseeable problems, then we get married, then we fall in love."
It has been proven that 'arranged' marriages have a significantly higher success rate than 'love' marriages (as we call them in India) - for the way they get the problems out of the way first.
So even though my parents are amazingly supportive and have always respected my decisions, they keep sprinkling 'suitable bachelor' information into our conversations, and showing my astrology charts to guru's in India.
As for me, irrespective of how many times my heart has been bruised, I still believe in falling in love. If I ever choose to get married, I would like it to be for love, rather than for the sake of getting married so as to not grow old alone (or whatever the reason is for an arranged marriage.)
Having said all of that, marriage is out of the picture for me at the moment.
I'm all over the place, with so many dreams, so many aspirations, so much happening around me - why would I want to get married right now? My life would take a serious hault and then a serious diversion that I am really not prepared for.
But when you marry for love - you are willing to put all those things on the line, because that what love does. (Well, that's what I'm told anyway :)
On the other hand, though I repel the thought of having an arranged marriage, I also realise how I always seem to to attract disastrous men in my life who have done me no good.
At 27, you'd think I'd have atleast one relationship that I could talk about fondly. Nope. Each one has been more messed-up than the other.
So, while all my friends (literally, ALL of them) have found love and are happily married, and putting my relationship-life in context, I sometimes wonder if I will ever have a guy in my life more than a few months (let alone to marry!). And that's all I'd like at the moment, you know?
I'm a 27 year old, unmarried, Indian girl, with zero decent relationships under my belt.
For Indian society, I am already above marriageable age, and I better get my act together, or I will stay a 'spinster' (God how I hate that word).
"Darling, who will marry you when you are 30?" I often hear my mum saying to me. "By that age, all the good men are taken, and you will be left with divorcees, widowers or people who everybody else has rejected."
WHAT?
I understand my mum's concerns. She believes that there is a 'time' for everything. A time to get married, a time to enjoy your marriage, a time to have children, etc etc. And when you start missing that 'time', things start falling out of place.
I do have respect for the arranged marriage scene and I have seen it work across most of my family.
A cousin of mine once explained the concept to some Spanish friends in a wonderful way: "Western people first fall in love, get married, and then worry about all the problems they have to worry about (families getting along, finances, future, life plans etc). In India, we do it the other way around. First we clarify all the foreseeable problems, then we get married, then we fall in love."
It has been proven that 'arranged' marriages have a significantly higher success rate than 'love' marriages (as we call them in India) - for the way they get the problems out of the way first.
So even though my parents are amazingly supportive and have always respected my decisions, they keep sprinkling 'suitable bachelor' information into our conversations, and showing my astrology charts to guru's in India.
As for me, irrespective of how many times my heart has been bruised, I still believe in falling in love. If I ever choose to get married, I would like it to be for love, rather than for the sake of getting married so as to not grow old alone (or whatever the reason is for an arranged marriage.)
Having said all of that, marriage is out of the picture for me at the moment.
I'm all over the place, with so many dreams, so many aspirations, so much happening around me - why would I want to get married right now? My life would take a serious hault and then a serious diversion that I am really not prepared for.
But when you marry for love - you are willing to put all those things on the line, because that what love does. (Well, that's what I'm told anyway :)
On the other hand, though I repel the thought of having an arranged marriage, I also realise how I always seem to to attract disastrous men in my life who have done me no good.
At 27, you'd think I'd have atleast one relationship that I could talk about fondly. Nope. Each one has been more messed-up than the other.
So, while all my friends (literally, ALL of them) have found love and are happily married, and putting my relationship-life in context, I sometimes wonder if I will ever have a guy in my life more than a few months (let alone to marry!). And that's all I'd like at the moment, you know?
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Out in the open
Those of you who have been reading my blog for a while, will be familiar with the fear I have had of sub-continent men in Spain.
When it comes to men, in general, I haven't been the best with the whole 'live-and-learn' analogy; but in this particular context, I have been queen.
Passing off successfully as a South-American has kept me a good arms distance from my Pakistani, Bangladeshi cyber-café/vegetable-shop buddies in Madrid.
Until yesterday.
"Excuse-me madam, are you from India?" said the Pakistani owner of the Internet café around the corner from my house.
I waited a good 2-minutes before deciding how to answer this question, and incapable of lying, I said yes.
"NO FUCKING WAY" was the reaction I got. (Que coño dices!)
See, you need to keep in context that I have been frequenting this Pakistani-brotherhood-cyber-café for over 3-months now. It's the best one close to me, so I decided not to be anal about the birthplace of it's owners.
"Wow", he continues, still in state of utter bewilderment. "Do you speak Hindi?"
"Yes, of course I do," I replied sheepishly.
"So you have been eavesdropping on our conversations for three months!?" he says, thankfully with a smile.
I smiled back.
"So come to my house one day, I live just down the road," he continued, to which I almost replied "why the fuck would I want to do that?", before he said "meet my family, have tea with my wife, she gets lonely".
*phew*
"I have been here for 14-years; we hardly meet people from our muluk. We would be delighted to have you around."
That was nice ay. Very straightforward and warm without the slightest tinge of threat.
So when I walked in today, of course instead of the Pakistani Uncle with kids, were his two young single Pakistani nephews. As if they knew I would be passing by!
"Namasteji! you are from India," one of them says in Urdu.
"Yes," I say, as neutrally as I could without sounding rude but being clear I don't have time for a chat.
Of course, that vibe wasn't picked up on, and the next thing I know is that he has pulled up a chair and is sitting next to me. Great.
Anyway, 5-minutes into the chat I think he got the hint. But he wasn't being a pain. He was just curious.
Overall I got a good vibe. Maybe one day I will take them up on the offer of passing by their house, perhaps not for tea, but definitely for the home made biryani!
When it comes to men, in general, I haven't been the best with the whole 'live-and-learn' analogy; but in this particular context, I have been queen.
Passing off successfully as a South-American has kept me a good arms distance from my Pakistani, Bangladeshi cyber-café/vegetable-shop buddies in Madrid.
Until yesterday.
"Excuse-me madam, are you from India?" said the Pakistani owner of the Internet café around the corner from my house.
I waited a good 2-minutes before deciding how to answer this question, and incapable of lying, I said yes.
"NO FUCKING WAY" was the reaction I got. (Que coño dices!)
See, you need to keep in context that I have been frequenting this Pakistani-brotherhood-cyber-café for over 3-months now. It's the best one close to me, so I decided not to be anal about the birthplace of it's owners.
"Wow", he continues, still in state of utter bewilderment. "Do you speak Hindi?"
"Yes, of course I do," I replied sheepishly.
"So you have been eavesdropping on our conversations for three months!?" he says, thankfully with a smile.
I smiled back.
"So come to my house one day, I live just down the road," he continued, to which I almost replied "why the fuck would I want to do that?", before he said "meet my family, have tea with my wife, she gets lonely".
*phew*
"I have been here for 14-years; we hardly meet people from our muluk. We would be delighted to have you around."
That was nice ay. Very straightforward and warm without the slightest tinge of threat.
So when I walked in today, of course instead of the Pakistani Uncle with kids, were his two young single Pakistani nephews. As if they knew I would be passing by!
"Namasteji! you are from India," one of them says in Urdu.
"Yes," I say, as neutrally as I could without sounding rude but being clear I don't have time for a chat.
Of course, that vibe wasn't picked up on, and the next thing I know is that he has pulled up a chair and is sitting next to me. Great.
Anyway, 5-minutes into the chat I think he got the hint. But he wasn't being a pain. He was just curious.
Overall I got a good vibe. Maybe one day I will take them up on the offer of passing by their house, perhaps not for tea, but definitely for the home made biryani!
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Profundizando en español
Hace mucho que no escribo en español. Voy a intentarlo hoy - me apetece. Y disculpame por todos mis errores!
El ultimo año cuando estuvé trabajando en Dubai, repentamente tenía un sentimiento muy fuerte, o podemos decir (?), me dí cuenta como un golpe, que un día voy a morir.Y sabiendo eso piensé: quiero vivir como estoy viviendo ahora?
El próximo día, dejé mi trabajo. Dentro de un mes estaba en Valencia, y ahora estoy en Madrid. Viviendo. Por primera vez en mi vida estoy viviendo de verdad. Disfrutando. Por primera vez, mi vida tiene nada que ver con mañana, con dinero, con estabilidad, con futuro. Todo es para hoy. Bueno, mas o menos.
Esté pensamiento me toca siempre cuando veo una viejecita en el supermercado buscando su cambio para pagar por su manzanas. Y pienso, debo vivir exactamente como quiero ahora - porque cuando estoy así - no podrá.
Creo que hoy en día, vivo bastante bien: hago lo que quiero, como quiero, cuando quiero. Un lujo que no permite a todos.
Leí un articulo muy bonito hoy en El País Semana: El Sentido De Morir .
(si que puedo ser profunda aveces!)
Empieza diciendo "Todo el mundo sabe que un día morirá, pero casi nadie se lo cree..." y tuvé que seguir leyendo.
Me ha gustado mucho porque siempre había tenido una manera de ser deprimido por el sentido de morir.
Claro, no queremos morir, tampoco queremos ser viejos - porque significa que el momento de morir esta cerca.
Pero, esté articulo reverte esté sentimiento diciendo - morir es que da sentido a nuestra vida.
Como sería horroroso una vida sin final, porque nadie puede escapar a la insoportable levedad del ser. A decir, si no tuvieramos que morir, no intentaríamos a vivir.
También dicen cosas como:
'Vivimos esta vida com si llevásemos otra en la maleta' (Hemingway)..
'El vida no es un ensayo, así que no la desperdician'.
Y mas cosas que nos ponemos a poner nuestra vida en perspectivo.
Bueno...es obvio que no tengo nada especial a decir, ni que puedo bien en español, pero quería escribir algo de esté asunto - EN ESPAÑOL - y me importa un pimiento si esté post es tonto y no tiene sentido. A lo mejor estoy en un animo de reflejar, y pensar. Esta bien porque es raro :)
Y os dejo aqui..
El ultimo año cuando estuvé trabajando en Dubai, repentamente tenía un sentimiento muy fuerte, o podemos decir (?), me dí cuenta como un golpe, que un día voy a morir.Y sabiendo eso piensé: quiero vivir como estoy viviendo ahora?
El próximo día, dejé mi trabajo. Dentro de un mes estaba en Valencia, y ahora estoy en Madrid. Viviendo. Por primera vez en mi vida estoy viviendo de verdad. Disfrutando. Por primera vez, mi vida tiene nada que ver con mañana, con dinero, con estabilidad, con futuro. Todo es para hoy. Bueno, mas o menos.
Esté pensamiento me toca siempre cuando veo una viejecita en el supermercado buscando su cambio para pagar por su manzanas. Y pienso, debo vivir exactamente como quiero ahora - porque cuando estoy así - no podrá.
Creo que hoy en día, vivo bastante bien: hago lo que quiero, como quiero, cuando quiero. Un lujo que no permite a todos.
Leí un articulo muy bonito hoy en El País Semana: El Sentido De Morir .
(si que puedo ser profunda aveces!)
Empieza diciendo "Todo el mundo sabe que un día morirá, pero casi nadie se lo cree..." y tuvé que seguir leyendo.
Me ha gustado mucho porque siempre había tenido una manera de ser deprimido por el sentido de morir.
Claro, no queremos morir, tampoco queremos ser viejos - porque significa que el momento de morir esta cerca.
Pero, esté articulo reverte esté sentimiento diciendo - morir es que da sentido a nuestra vida.
Como sería horroroso una vida sin final, porque nadie puede escapar a la insoportable levedad del ser. A decir, si no tuvieramos que morir, no intentaríamos a vivir.
También dicen cosas como:
'Vivimos esta vida com si llevásemos otra en la maleta' (Hemingway)..
'El vida no es un ensayo, así que no la desperdician'.
Y mas cosas que nos ponemos a poner nuestra vida en perspectivo.
Bueno...es obvio que no tengo nada especial a decir, ni que puedo bien en español, pero quería escribir algo de esté asunto - EN ESPAÑOL - y me importa un pimiento si esté post es tonto y no tiene sentido. A lo mejor estoy en un animo de reflejar, y pensar. Esta bien porque es raro :)
Y os dejo aqui..
Vipassana in Madrid
His voice gave me goosebumps. Goosebumps that quickly turned into shivers. I felt momentarily dizzy a few times too. Perhaps these are my reactions from meditating after 3-years. Reactions that I suppose are way to raw to be called sensations.
Found a Vipassana group here - they meditate together in an herbolaria every Sunday morning for two hours. I couldn't handle two hours, but enjoyed the first hour. Felt a few random sensations, but most of the time I was trying to calm my agitated mind. Managed not to look at my watch more than twice - which is quite an achievement.
It was interesting to see the sort of people who turned up. All much older. All Spanish. All swept away by what they are experiencing with this meditation. All happy. Some searching for themselves, but generally happy. Vipassana does that. Gives you a refuge which promises to protect you, come what may. Seems like the programme is a rage in Spain - with spots in Barcelona totally booked out.
As I walked home, felt very light-headed. Also felt home. Big smile on my face. Must continue going. Must continue practising.
Found a Vipassana group here - they meditate together in an herbolaria every Sunday morning for two hours. I couldn't handle two hours, but enjoyed the first hour. Felt a few random sensations, but most of the time I was trying to calm my agitated mind. Managed not to look at my watch more than twice - which is quite an achievement.
It was interesting to see the sort of people who turned up. All much older. All Spanish. All swept away by what they are experiencing with this meditation. All happy. Some searching for themselves, but generally happy. Vipassana does that. Gives you a refuge which promises to protect you, come what may. Seems like the programme is a rage in Spain - with spots in Barcelona totally booked out.
As I walked home, felt very light-headed. Also felt home. Big smile on my face. Must continue going. Must continue practising.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Blatant Self-Promotion
For those who aren't tuning into the most productive writing I am doing at the moment - check out my latest at Gridskipper.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Garbage Treasures
Life as an English teacher doesn't leave you much spending money after you've paid your bills. So when you spot something you like, abandoned in the trash, you take it.
Yesterday we picked up this sofa chair from the trash round the corner.
4am walking back from a great night out with a friend visiting from Valencia, we spotted it and thanks to numerous cañas in my system, I didn't think twice about whether to take it or not.
So here we were, in the middle of the night, two half-drunk chicas carrying a sofa chair home. I say that with full pride as I officially join the club of garbage scavengers. Yes, that sounds cheap and pathetic, but as long as I'm not scavenging for food, I think my dignity is intact.
And just for the record, it's the most comfortable thing I have in my room after my bed, and it doesn't smell.
If you pay a bit of attention to the chair, you will see some bird-drawings laid out. These are pieces of art we found hanging on various trees in the barrio of Lavapies. And they're pretty damn neat.
I'm yet to put up the bird paintings, but all-in-all, I'm quite kicked about my new possessions. They have added new dimension to my room.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Los Vagos Vagabundos
So these Vagos Vagabundos (lazy beggars) always make me smile when I pass them on my way to work. There are normally 3 of them, who sit on the road and ask for money for beer, wine, a hangover, pot, cocaine, travel and the Internet.
They say, 'we're honest and we make you smile - isn't that reason enough to give us a buck?'
They travel around Spain, and have actually generated a decent amount of press, thanks to their novel approach.
Turns out they are engineers, who just think this is a more enjoyable way of earning money. And they have a full-fledged website! check them out at www.lazybeggers.com.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Marvellous Martinez
Oh My God. Can this guy move or can he move. Frankie Martinez, king of salsa and afro-cuban rythems, was in Madrid yesterday for a performance.
He has control over muscles in our body we do not know exist. He could probably isolate all of them if he wanted to. He hears beats in a rhythem that will remain ultra-sonic to us, and his interpretation of the music with the command he has over his body is just mind-boggling.
I have been dancing, in some form, since I was 5. I have watched a lot of great dance shows in my adult life, have been to 4 salsa congresses, scrutinised every video of Michael Jackson, but have not seen anyone move the way he does.
In fact his whole troupe was pretty fantastic.
The screw-up with watching such fantastic dancing, is that it makes you want to quit. *sigh*
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Moods and the Madrid Salsa Congress
So I went last week to pick up a complete pass for the congress, and guess what!? SOLD OUT!
Since when did salsa congresses start getting sold-out? that too the advance dancers category!? Anyway, thank goodness the organisers chose a big enough place for the fiestas and tickets have been available at the door.
Went last night, danced my toes off till 7am. No skin left on the top of them, and the rest of my feet are blistered. Anyway, was a super night. Met a whole bunch of people from Valencia - all the guys I danced with for the 6 months that I was there. For the first time ever we hugged like we were long lost friends, and finally figured out each others names.
I woke-up today at 3pm (with disgust), but all psyched about going dancing again tonight. Studied, ate, showered, blow-dried my hair, wrote a bit, withdrew money, came home to get changed and ...poof... I don't feel like going any more.
What sort of a and random mood kick is that!?
Today is going to be an overpacked night - perhaps that's what it is. Or maybe it's because I'm Aquarian, fuck knows. Oh well, there's always tomorrow, which I don't want to miss because Frankie Martinez is going to perform!
My flatmate has rented out Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind, which sounds like a good plan for the night. So the popcorn comes out and my pyjamas get back on.
Since when did salsa congresses start getting sold-out? that too the advance dancers category!? Anyway, thank goodness the organisers chose a big enough place for the fiestas and tickets have been available at the door.
Went last night, danced my toes off till 7am. No skin left on the top of them, and the rest of my feet are blistered. Anyway, was a super night. Met a whole bunch of people from Valencia - all the guys I danced with for the 6 months that I was there. For the first time ever we hugged like we were long lost friends, and finally figured out each others names.
I woke-up today at 3pm (with disgust), but all psyched about going dancing again tonight. Studied, ate, showered, blow-dried my hair, wrote a bit, withdrew money, came home to get changed and ...poof... I don't feel like going any more.
What sort of a and random mood kick is that!?
Today is going to be an overpacked night - perhaps that's what it is. Or maybe it's because I'm Aquarian, fuck knows. Oh well, there's always tomorrow, which I don't want to miss because Frankie Martinez is going to perform!
My flatmate has rented out Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind, which sounds like a good plan for the night. So the popcorn comes out and my pyjamas get back on.
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