It's sprayback time!

Once upon a time, someone sent me a forward with the picture of a baby whose entire face was covered with baby food. It was cute, but unlikely to happen, I thought. How on earth a small baby could get all that food all over her face was beyond me.

Till the day I watched my sister try to shove some gooey mushy stuff into Aish's mouth.

Aish is just getting started on semi-solids, and she makes no qualms about expressing how much she hates it. Her mealtimes have become family affairs, often spanning a few hours, and involving not just her immediate family, but second and third cousins of ours and the domestic helpers too. Everyone tries their hand to get her to eat, but she has all sorts of strategies to counter the situation.

You'd think it's an easy task. Just take some of the gooey mushy stuff in the carefully manufactured plastic spoon with rounded edges and gently place it in the little one's mouth, and she'll just gobble it up, right?

Wrong.

Then I decided to take matters (and the spoon) in my own hands, proclaiming, "Give me that, tum logon ko kuchh nahin aata hai!" What I did not expect were the miniature Karate moves that Aish had somehow mastered. A left hook to the spoon and a right uppercut to my elbow, and suddenly all the food that was once in the spoon had neatly landed on her forehead. Five spoonfuls later, she has food everywhere on her face except her mouth, closely resembling the baby in the forward I had received. This is actually a very funny sight, and everyone except my sister is amused.

After pleading and cajoling yielded no results, my sister came up with smarter tactics. She looked at Aish very very sternly and suddenly yelled in capital letters, "EAT OR I'LL GET VERY ANGRY!" I think she scared me more than she scared baby Aish.

"What's wrong with you?? Why are you yelling at the baby???" I yelled.

"Shhh... if I yell, it will scare her. If I scare her, she will cry. The moment she opens her mouth to cry, I will put the food in her mouth." She whispered, still maintaining the stern look.

Ah, clever.

"Arre wah! Tum toh uski hi nahin, hum sabki maa ho!" I proclaimed.

Meanwhile, Aish was looking a bit surprised, trying to figure out what the hell had happened to make her usually quiet mother scream like that.

"I'M REALLY VERY ANGRY, AISH!" My sister yelled again.

Bingo.

"Waaaaaaaaaa" went a visibly shaken Aish, and in went the spoon with the gooey mushy stuff.

For a second, Aish looked extremely surprised. Then in what was to become one of her trademark moves, "phooooooooooooooshh!" she sprayed all the food back at my sister, sending me into fits of laughter. Aish leaned back in her stroller with a smug look. And now her mother was the one resembling the baby in the forward.

My exasperated sister looked at me helplessly and asked (this time in lowercase letters), "Sayesha, why doesn't she eat???"

Erm... it was of course a rhetorical question, wasn't it? Surely she didn't expect me to know why baby Aish refused to eat, right?

But I looked at my sister guiltily. Cos deep in my heart, I knew. That I was kinda responsible for Aish's disagreement with food in general.

Damn I should never have pointed out babe Aish's hot bod in Dhoom 2 to baby Aish.

The sum of all fears

"So are you gonna bungy jump??" Many people asked us when they found out we were going on a holiday to New Zealand.

My reply to them would be one of my many views on bungy jumping.

"What?? Bungy jump?? Are you crazy??"

"Oh I can't jump because of a medical condition. It's called 'I dun wanna bungy jump!'"

"Why would anyone in their right minds carry out such a suicidal act?? Why why why??"

"Why on earth would I want to plummet headfirst 30-40 metres down a canyon suspended only by a rubber cord??"

"I don't think people consciously take the bungy plunge. It's more like -- when they stand up there and look down, they faint at the sight, slip and fall down, and are brought back to consciousness when their heads get dunked in the water."

"Only people who are completely out of their minds would do something as crazy as bungy jumping."

Hmmm... I guess that last sentence just about explains us in the picture below.

Camera-dearie

Bhai's whereabouts: Bhai's left Mumbai after chomping on gazillions of pani puris and is now on a road trip somewhere in New Zealand.

I've been wanting to upgrade my digital camera for quite some time. And finally I did it. Errrmm... not in the way I intended to, but I did it nevertheless.

Ladies and gentlemen, presenting Smart Sayesha's 7-step camera upgrade plan:

Step 1: Plan trip to Puri beach with family and friends.
Step 2: Place digital camera in purse.
Step 3: Smartly place bottle of sunscreen too into aforementioned purse.
Step 4: In car on the way back, ensure sunscreen bottle magically opens/cracks and sunscreen spills out such that every nook and corner of digital camera, including battery compartment and USB port, is filled with a gooey white liquid. If necessary, sit on purse to carry this out effectively.
Step 5: Examine camera to check that it is indeed permanently damaged. Express shock. Attempt to hold back tears.
Step 6: Between tears, show camera to Viv and let him examine it. When he shakes his head and hands the camera back, yell "What kind of an engineer are you??? You can't even repair a digicam???" Remember to conveniently forget that you are an engineer too. Electronics at that. Wince as he takes revenge by gleefully relating to her friends the story of "How Sayesha ruined her digicam".
Step 7: Bid tearful goodbye to old cam and buy new cam for NZ trip.

Shabash Sayesha, kya dimaag dikhaya! Sheesh! :/

On the brighter side, with 2 GBs of memory in the new camera, Hopscotch's gonna be hopping real high when I return to Singapore in end Feb! :)

Khare pani re

Note: I've been getting a lot of emails and comments asking me when my wedding is. Errr... well... the wedding's kinda over. If you're shocked, it's great news, cos it just proves Bhai hasn't changed. Muahahaha! :D
(Errrm... perhaps I should wait a few more days before going muahaha. Bhai's gotta maintain the bridal demure behaviour for a few days at least. Ahem.)

So my parents and mamaji were discussing the menu for the wedding reception dinner when they called me.

"Sayesha, would you like to add anything to the menu?" They asked me.

"Err... can we have pani puri?" I asked. Two of my friends were coming from Singapore to attend my wedding, and I really really wanted them to try pani puri. The problem was that unlike Indians who have lived amidst pollution and germs, foreigners' stomachs don't quite take to roadside pani puri the way ours' do. So my plan was - mineral water pani puri at the wedding! Muahahaha! :D Oops.

"You want pani puri?? Really??" They looked serious.

"Errr... yeah, is it possible?" I asked hesitatingly, not quite sure if the bride-to-be could provide input for the reception dinner.

They burst out laughing.

"Of course we're including a pani puri stall. It's your wedding, after all!"

Phew.

So at the reception, as I tried my best to look demure in the 35-kg sari and an equal mass of gold jewellery on me, smiling and greeting hundreds of people I'd never seen in my life, I got kinda hungry. Hungry for pani puri actually. But the guests kept arriving and I could not move beyond a 2-feet radius from the royal throne-like things on the stage on which Viv and I were supposed to sit. As the crowd started thinning, I started to look more and more radiant at the thought of the pani puris that were waiting for me. I'd been hearing rave reviews about how spicy and yummy they were.

Suddenly, Dad and Mom walked towards the stage. They looked kinda distraught.

"Sayesha..."

"What? What? What happened?"

"The pani puris..."

"What? What? What happened to the pani puris??"

"They kinda got over..."

"Got over????? The pani puris got over???"

I'm fortunate that the cameraman was not around to capture my expression.

"Yeah, apparently they were very popular..."

"There are no pani puris for me????" I was aghast.

And now I know why Indian brides cry at their weddings.

A domestic fright

Bhai's whereabouts: Bhai's moved out of Cuttack and is now enjoying South Indian culture in Chennai. She is headed to Bombay tomorrow and is looking forward to staple meals of pani puri.

Update: Bhai was elated to meet bloggers Jane, Kini and Iday at the second wedding reception last night. Bhai has issued supari for Virdi and family for not turning up.

Bhai apologises to all readers for not having replied to their comments on the previous posts for fear of her bratty cousins discovering her blog. She promises to reply to all of them when she gets back to Singapore.

=================================================================

I hadn't taken a domestic flight in so long that when I took the flight from Kolkata to go to Cuttack along with my sister and my niece baby Aish, it felt like a new experience. Even the feel of the airport was different. Also, I'd never travelled with a baby before, but this time I was armed with baby Aish.

Usually, whenever I'm with my sister, she's the one who gets the admiring looks from lafungas while I give them my bhai-type 'Don't you dare stare at my sis' glares. However, this time around, it was baby Aish who was getting all the admiring glances. Even the lafungas forgot their lafunga-giri and went 'Coochie coochie cutie cutie' around her stroller. It was hilarious.

After we boarded the plane, a thought struck me.

"Do you think they will give us food on such a short flight?" I asked my sister.

She grinned and pointed at the back of the seat in front of me. The first few letters of the 'FASTEN SEAT BELT WHILE SEATED' sign had worn out and what was left gave me the perfect answer to my question.

EAT BELT WHILE SEATED.

Baby's day in

So it was my sister's good fortune that I decided to relieve her of her fulltime job at Motherhood Unlimited for a few hours while she went to get her shopping done. On the other hand, it was my good fortune that she actually trusted me enough to let me baby-sit Aish without supervision.

Barely had I shut the door when the phone rang.

"What's she doing??" My sis asked.

"Huh?? Are you even out of the lift??" I asked.

"What's she doing??"

"She's looking at me talk to you, you crazy woman."

"And..?"

"And..?? There's an 'and'?? Errr... She's not crying?"

"Oh okay then."

Click.

Fifteen minutes later, the phone rang again.

"What's she doing??"

"She's sleeping... and not crying!"

"Oh okay."

This happened another hour later.

"She's not crying! Stop calling me!" I hung up.

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa..."

OhdearGodAishwasawake!!!! :O :O :O

"Uhh... let's get you into your stroller, okay?"

I did that. She became quiet. I drove her around the house, and she chuckled. But soon she started looking really bored.

"Now what?" I looked at her.

She gave me a "you're-supposed-to-know-that-you-dhakkan!" look.

"Shall we watch some TV? Oh yeah, let's do that!"

So I turned on the TV and started flipping channels. I felt like Chandler as he sat with his chick (as in the bird and not the woman) and explained the storyline (is there one?) of Baywatch when they were watching TV together.

Flip.

Himmesh Reshammiya appears on screen.

Me - Look Aish, that is Himmesh Reshammiya. We don't like him. But he doesn't care. Because he has made a lot of money from all that oooooing that he does all day about the surooooorrrr of his huzoooorrr.

Flip.

Brett Lee appears on screen in his album with Asha Bhosle.

Me - That is Brett Lee. He is a cricketer. We don't know/care which country he plays for. He can't sing in hindi for nuts. But we love him.

Flip.

Abhishek Bachchan appears on screen.

Me - That is Abhishek Bachchan. We don't like his dad too much but we like him. He just got engaged to Aish so we gotta wait and watch.

Flip.

A bored lion appears on screen.

Me - This is a lion on the national geographic channel. We will not watch this channel. You can watch when you grow up.

Flip.

Newsreader appears on screen.

Me - This is a news channel. They show the day's happenings. We won't watch it because we are here for a wedding. There's enough happenings in the house already.

Flip.

Rakhi Sawant appears on screen.

Me - This is Rakhi Sawant on Bigg Boss. We think she's too innocent for a show like that. And oh, we hate the show.

Flip.

Akshay Kumar appears on screen.

Me - This is Akshay Kumar. Your mom doesn't like him, but we do.

Flip.

A large over-dressed family appears on screen.

Me - This is a serial by Ekta Kapoor. She can't spell for nuts. And her stories are all the same. The evil bahu always has short hair and a weird fringe, and wears silver or purple lipstick. And see that old woman in the corner? She's been on the show so long, she must be 140 years old. Nice saris on the show, though.

Flip.

Siddhu appears on screen.

Me - That is Siddhu. He used to play cricket. He did some cricket commentary too. Also killed a man. Now he laughs at senseless jokes on a stupid show called 'The Great Indian Laughter Challenge'. We don't like him.

Flip.

Aish appears on screen.

Me - You see that? That's Aishwarya Rai. She's the most beautiful woman in the world. Doesn't she look super hot in this song 'Crazy kiya re'? We don't have that face, but we should strive for that body, ok?

Flip.

Me - So which one do you like?

Aish looks at me, puzzled.

Flip.

John Abraham appears on screen.

Aish - Thisssss!

Me - That's my girl! :D

Kol Kata Aaj Cuttack

Bhai's whereabouts: I have moved out of Calcutta and landed at Cuttack (my ancestral home) and finally got net access! I think my fingers jumped with joy at the touch of a keyboard after so long, even though most of the keys have had their letters rubbed off so I'm just typing on blank keys. My Dad saw me doing that and kinda freaked out. :P

A few months ago, Dad told me he was getting a transfer. I wasn't happy. I hadn't seen Lucknow and looked like he would be outta there before I visited India next. He told me he didn't know where he was getting transferred to, but he was trying for one of the eastern states.

"Dad, go anywhere but Calcutta, okay?" I was not really a fan of Calcutta as my last encounter with the city had left behind images of the bad traffic, crowds and pollution.

A few days later, after consultation with his good friend Murphy, Dad called me. He sounded very cheerful.

"I'm getting transferred to Calcutta!" He said.

Gee, thanks a lot, Dad. :/

So when I packed my bags and part of my wedding shopping and landed at Calcutta on the 5th of January, I wasn't exactly ecstatic. But somehow, within the very first week, the city seemed to grow on me. I would go with Dad for his morning walks and check out the roadside sabziwalas selling amazingly fresh vegetables. They even have customer service now, the fish seller insisted on buying Dad a cup of tea as he waited for the fish to be cut. It was hilarious to see Dad try and converse with them in Bengali considering that his vocabulary is limited to 'Koto kori?" Even Mom sounds adorable when she struggles with Bengali while speaking to the domestic helper, who by the way remarked that my Bengali was better than Mom's. Muahahaha! :D

Our neighbour took an instant liking to me and I'm still trying to figure out why. Her Bengali-mixed Hindi is so cute it's almost distracting. "Tumi itna roga kyun?" She asked me. ("Why are you so thin?") Also, "Aami shokaal mein thaanda jol chul mein daalkar chan kiya." ("I washed my hair with cold water while bathing this morning.") Why one would do that in winter is beyond me, but apparently she likes bathing with cold water. Brrrr!

Baby Aish is here too, and attempting to stuff all her toes into her mouth seems to be her ultimate goal in life, while mine seems to be teach her to do a high five, which is more like her entire hand against my thumb. Her other antics include holding up the book I bought her (yes yes, there are books for infants) between her legs, and turning the pages with her hands. And oh, she spoke her first word and it is "This." I swear. Actually it's more like "Thissss!"

And may I also mention that I have successfully convinced baby Aish that I am John Abraham. Come to think of it, "Sayesha, you look like John Abraham." is not exactly a compliment, but she was watching the song "Where's the paty tonight?" on TV and really smiling whenever they showed John, and suddenly the song changed and she started crying so I kinda continued from where John had left off and she smiled again, even though I kept repeating "Where's the party tonight? On the dance floor!" like a zillion times because I don't know the lyrics, but she was happy to see me prance around I guess. It's amazing how she has made a singer and dancer of everyone in my family. And I seriously believe that I have lost the ability to speak in anything other than baby talk.

Things are still the same at home though. The fight for the remote control continues. I continue to treat my elder sister like my baby sister. Speaking of which, baby Aish caught a cold, and we took her to a child clinic. The paediatrician took one look at my sister and baby Aish and said "So which one of you is my patient??"

We've been wedding-shopping every single day. Frankly speaking, it feels great not to have a job to wake up to, and just roam around Calcutta and spend Dad's money. Mom has got the hang of crossing the busy streets of Calcutta with such expertise that I'm absolutely amazed! This is how it happens:

Mom - Okay, cross after the taxi!
Me - Err.. which one of the twenty thousand??
Mom - Arre...This one...
Me - Uhh... are you sure?
Mom - Go now! Chalchalchal!
Me - Jai ma Kalkatte-wali!

While looking for my wedding sari, I met a few interesting characters. These days, when you're selecting a sari, the shopkeepers ask you "Should I drape it?" It basically means that they will help to drape it around you using a Velcro belt so that you don't really have to 'wear' it to see how you will look in it. I remember this one particular shopkeeper who was showing us a sari that I really liked. "Should I drape it?" He asked. "Yes yes." I said. What happened in the next few seconds is something I would have never imagined. The dude draped the sari around himself!!! I think it will take me a while to get rid of the image of that moustached man in what could have potentially been MY wedding sari. Sheesh! Obviously I could not look at that sari the same way again. The guy is probably sitting in his shop and wondering to this day what made me reject the sari that I had initially been so enthusiatic about.

After the wedding saris were bought, we went to the tailor to get the blouses stitched. When I saw them, the blouses looked breathtakingly beautiful! When I tried them on, they were...err... breath-taking.

"Dude, I can't quite remember asking you to stitch corsets." I wanted to say to the tailor, but I managed with a "Khoob tight aachhe." ("It's very tight.") He went on to give me a long lecture on how girls of today like me don't wear saris, and so we have no idea that blouses are meant to be tight. "Aap Star Plus dekhta hai? Saas-bahu wala sherial? Usme blousa dekha? Shob tight hota." He said. ("Do you watch Star Plus channel? The mom-in-law and daughter-in-law type soaps? Seen the blouses they wear? They're all tight.") The dude even got his mother to try and convince me that the blouses were fine, and it was only because I was not used to wearing them that I found them so tight. Anyway, we came home, and Mom and I altered them ourselves, and now I think I can breathe when I wear them. Here's one sashtang pranaam to all the women out there who can manage to stay alive in those blouses. :O

I'm also trying to learn how to tie a sari myself. And yes I do watch the saas-bahu serials to check out the way the bahus seem to effortlessly carry the heavy saris and jewellery.

Shopping in Cuttack will start tomorrow. The weather here is nice too, it's not as cold as Calcutta but it's pleasant. Baby Aish and I have become the centre of attention of everyone. I think even the dog here (I call him Manohar, cos I dunno his real name) is feeling kinda jealous.

Relatives are fawning over me like anything, and I'm loving the attention. Some of them are asking me funny questions. "Is the boy nice?" Hehehe... what do they expect me to say? "No, actually he's not, I'm just marrying him for the heck of it!"? :P

I'm also undergoing the ceremony whereby everyone thinks that it is good luck to invite the bride-to-be for lunch/dinner and stuff her with stuff fried in desi ghee. Sheesh! I'm eating so much here I'm amazed at myself. The servants too (some of whom have seen me from my diaper days) are also pampering me with all my favourite dishes. The tailor's warning rings in my ears "E jo aapka figaar hai na figaar? Usko maintain rokhte hobey!" ("You must maintain this figure of yours.") Sheesh! :/

That's all from me as of now. I will try to update more if I can squirm out of adoring aunts pinching my cheeks and saying "Sayesha!! I saw you when you were a little baby! I can't believe you're getting married!"

Well, frankly speaking, I didn't see myself as a little baby, and even I can't believe I'm getting married! :O

I made pasta in Chinatown

Before my India trips, I like to buy some stuff from Chinatown. Mainly because it's getting incredibly difficult to buy gifts for people in India without them (mostly the aunty-types) making the annoying statement "Aaj kal toh yahan par sab kuchh milta hai." ("These days, we get everything in India.") So I go to Chinatown and buy some of the most Chinesey Chinese stuff - things that even the Indian Chinatowns would probably not have, just for those aunties.

So I'm roaming around Chinatown in the middle of the day, when this ang moh (blanket term used in Singapore for Caucasians) hesitatingly approaches me.

"Excuse me, are you from here?"

"Yes." (Sometimes I just conserve energy by saying "Yes" instead of "No-actually-I'm-originally-from-India-but-I've-been-here -for-almost-nine-years-now.")

"But originally from India?"

"Yes."

"I am from Italy. Some day I would like to visit India too. I like the Indian people. To me, more than the place, the people matter."

"Hmmm... okay." I was wondering why he was telling me all this.

"I'm a tourist here. Can you help me with something?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Is this a good place to shop for souvenirs?"

"Yes, I think it's one of the best."

"So a lot of tourists come here?"

"Yes, you can see..." I pointed out the million and one ang mohs roaming the area.

"Could you suggest me some things to buy here?"

"Oh okay, no problem. Whom do you want to buy stuff for?"

"My mother."

Ah. Sweet.

"You can get her some purses, maybe? The traditional Chinese kinds? Would she like that?" I asked.

"Oh yeah, that would be nice. Where can I get them?"

"They're all over the place, but my favourite shop is over there." I pointed to the shop.

Instead of looking where I was pointing, I noticed that he was looking at me. Then he paused and asked, "Uhh... I'm sorry, where?"

"There. The second shop on the left."

"Ah. Okay. Thank you very much."

"You're welcome." I started to walk out of the shop.

"One more thing..."

Sheesh! I'm a busy person this week, I have no time to talk to hot Italian men! :/

"Yes?"

"Can you suggest a good place for me to go to, tonight? I only have tonight. I'm leaving Singapore tomorrow morning."

"Well, depends on what you've not seen yet. Have you been to Boat Quay and Clarke Quay?" I suggested the two popular places where most drunk ang mohs are found in Singapore.

"Yes."

"How about Suntec City? They have the famous fountain there... and some kinda laser show..."
(Personally I don't know what the big deal about the fountain is, but apparently it's a hit with tourists.)

"Oh okay... I have not been to Suntec City..."

"All right then..." I gave him my goodbye smile.

But he wouldn't get out of my way.

"What are you doing tonight?" He smiled.

"What am I doing tonight??" Frankly speaking, having never had an Italian guy hit on me, I was a bit stunned.

"Yes... what are you doing tonight?" He smiled that knowing smile again.

"I'm packing tonight. To go to India tomorrow. For my wedding."

And I smiled too.

Chinese sandalwood fan: $24
Red and gold cheongsam: $89
Expression on the face of the Italian: Priceless

Watching the replay

Rediff.com chronicled the events that shaped 2006. Inspired, I decided to chronicle the events that shaped my life in 2006. Here are the highlights.

January

• I finally decide to act mature and acknowledge the presence of Ian in my life.
• A fabulous trip to Hong Kong with one of my best friends

February

• Business trip to Manila (chronicled in parts 1, 2, 3 and 4)
• I saw him sing. Sigh.

March

• Flawless planning and execution of a blog buddy's birthday surprise (also known as the longest post at Sayeshaz)
  
• My favourite restaurant in Singapore sends me a little blogging perk.
• Big career dilemma part 1 (I'm facing part 2 right now). If I hadn't made the decision I did, I wouldn't have met the amazing people I met at work recently.
  

April

• I come up with a new age structure whereby I turn 25. Again.
• I dance the 'Dhaaki tiki' with crime master Gogo.

May

• Trip to the US to meet the latest addition to my family - baby Aish.
• I saw him sing. Sigh again.

June

• Someone steals my life. And my blog friends help me get it back.

July

• A nostalgic trip to my university
• I attend a very happening e-bachelorette party with my blog sistahs.
• My Marketing Manager shows me a near impossible dream.

August

• A dude gives me a thrilling ride on his motorbike at night on the highway. My first. And last. Wheee!
• My visa troubles end. And then the trip gets cancelled.

September

• Another trip gets cancelled.
• I move into a new place (the best one so far). I cook up a storm.

October

• I get emotional about my editors.
• I get real about India.

November

• I miss Indian winters.
• Finally, it happens. I still can't believe that it did.

December

• I break the news to the bewdas and a guest post materialises.
• I witness the most heartwarming farewell at work. And it's mine.

*Sayesha takes a step back and looks at the list*

Yeah, not bad. Not bad at all. :)

Coming out (with) tops!

Important note: So I spent a total of four hours in three malls and I did not buy a single pair of shoes. Ha!

Sorry, I needed to activate my GPS (Guilt Prevention Statement) before proceeding further with the post.

When I was young, I often heard Mom make a particular statement after she came back from shopping.

"Bahut paise kharch kar diye. Maza aa gaya!" ("Spent a lot of money! What fun!")

I'd be puzzled with the weird nature of the statement, and she'd say "You won't understand. Not earning, and yet spending money is just a different kind of high."

And now I think I finally understand what she meant.

So yesterday I'd gone to the malls to look for accessories for baby Aish. Two baby shops later, I found something I liked - little fox boots for babies. They were brown boots with fur (fake I hope!) lining, which probably wouldn't go with the 35 wedding lehengas that relatives seem to have got for her, but they were incredibly stylish. (Besides, what do you expect from someone who goes to buy gold jewellery and comes out with an ipod nano?) The problem was - the pair for 6-9 month-old babies had one boot missing. So I found the only sales assistant they had, and told him the problem.

"There's one boot missing."

"Err... okay let me go find it."

Before I could tell him that I didn't mean "one boot missing" in the sense that one would have to "go find it" but more in the "please show me another pair" sense, he'd disappeared into the jungles to go fox-hunting. Fifteen minutes later, there was still no sign of him. The counter staff were busy with the looooooong queue of parents - expecting and otherwise (and they say Singapore doesn't have enough babies!). So I had to give up.

You know how there are people who go shopping to buy something for themselves but end up buying stuff only for other people? Well, I'm not one of those people. I decided to vent off the "missing boot" steam by spending money elsewhere. So I entered this clothes store in Suntec City - one I'd often seen but never really explored. The salesgirl - dressed in what I'd call a Japanese doll costume - was a real darling. She patiently found the colour and size I was looking for, of four different tops, and waited outside the trial room while I tried them on.

You know how when you buy a book online, they send you recommendations on what else they think you'd like? In Singapore, they do that in the clothes stores. As you try on the clothes you have picked, you are startled by more clothes being flung over the top of the door with a sweet "Miss, you may want to try these too!" And this is not just a random process. They actually look at the kind of clothes you have picked, get an idea of your taste and so the clothes they fling over the door are the kind you would actually like. So I spent a good half an hour trying on the seven tops I'd been armed with.

So in the end, when I came out of the trial room and handed her the small hill of tops, she gave me a sad smile and said, "None?"

"All." I said.

The kind of high you get from seeing someone's eyes light up the way hers did can only be surpassed by the kind of psychotic high you get when you spend a lot of money (let me put it this way - they gave me a lifetime membership card) a week after you quit your job.

Maza aa gaya! :D