25 more things about me

I had such a blast coming up with the list of the 25 things about me, I decided to do a sequel :)

1. Ideally, I would like to turn vegetarian.
2. I don't like Amitabh Bachchan.
3. Three years ago, I had a freak kitchen accident when the entire skin peeled off my face, and I had to undergo plastic surgery to get the face I have today.
4. I can analyse your handwriting and tell you your characteristics.
5. I am not into F1 racing at all.
6. A few years ago, I was on a diet and lost 8 kgs in 6 months.
7. I want to die at the age of 50.
8. I think Anu Malik is very talented.
9. My tomboyish nature is because I grew up bashing up and getting bashed up by my two elder brothers.
10. When I was ten, I could beat the crap out of any guy in the neighbourhood at spinning tops.
11. I love wearing stilettos.
12. Some day I would like to bungee jump.
13. I hate banana split ice-cream.
14. I can knock lizards down using ice cubes.
15. I hate chewing gum.
16. Once I stalked a guy on the streets.
17. I like to buy and collect postcards with sappy phrases such as “I think of you from time to time – from the time I wake up to the time I go to sleep.”
18. I once told a guy I’d show him a picture of my crush, and brazenly showed him a mirror.
19. A guy once slapped me in a pub, and I waited for him to get sober before I slapped him back.
20. I can’t keep a secret from my close friends.
21. I can’t swim to save my own life.
22. I think some guys look really cool smoking.
23. I don’t say the ‘F’ word aloud. I only say it in my head.
24. I can roller-blade and ice-skate.
25. When I go to India, I refuse to have pani puri unless it’s made with mineral water.

10 of the above sentences are utter nonsense.

Remember me?

That's it -- I can't take it anymore.

I found out that I will only get my Internet at home set up end of the week. Don't laugh at me but I don't think I can survive such a long no-post drought.

So here's to my friend Banana for her suggestion that I could blog from work after office hours! Simple, eh? Well, not so fast, as I found out! Formatting blog posts using a Mac sucks. And since I am very particular (to the point of being neurotic) about the fonts in my posts, I'll format this later. But for now, I have too much going on up here to hold back blogging :)

----

Every year on the 5th of September, I call the principal of my old school and wish him 'Happy Teacher's Day'. The reason why I only call this particular school and not the other five (or was it six?) is that this is the only one where my principal is still there (although most of the other teachers have left). In all the other schools, everyone has moved on.

For the last seven years, my principal had been picking up the phone himself when I called. So today, I was quite surprised when I heard an unfamiliar voice pick up my call. It was probably a clerk or his PA.

I gave him my name and asked for the principal.

"Sir! _______ ka phone hai aapke liye! Singapore se!" I heard him yell.
("Sir, _______'s call for you. From Singapore!")

My jaw literally dropped when I heard that. This chap had just said out my full name! Complete with surname! And I had only given him my first name! (Not to even mention I had no clue who he was.)

Wow. Double wow. It totally totally made my day.

Sometimes, that's all we need to make our day, isn't it?

The fact that someone somewhere still remembers us.

Westward ho!

Tonight is Sayesha's last night in the east.

I have been an east-girl for three years. And now it hurts... to leave everything and move to the unfamiliar area of the west. Far away from everyone and everything I have built around myself.

So this morning, I put on my 'It's hip to be happy' T-shirt so I could manage to not break down with every carton I packed and sealed. I also managed to find time to visit some of my favourite places in the east, and relive some of the great moments here.

And suddenly it struck me -- I will still be in touch with my friends who live in the east (considering that three of my closest ones do), but I will have to let go of some relationships -- some really amazing ones that I have built over the years...

And I will miss them.

I will miss my beautiful house and the pool with the two dolphins.
















I will miss Samo at Thai Express at Siglap, for probably being the only waiter who could get away with a statement like "It's really fresh, that's why!" when I found a green caterpillar crawling on my salad leaves.

I will miss Sony at the beach outlet of Komalas, who was so incredibly energetic and cheerful (that too, at the end of his shift at 10 in the night!) that every time I saw him, I was filled with inspiration.

I will miss Michael at the provision shop across the road who would always say the same thing every time I popped by to get bread or juice, "You're from India, right? I have atta if you want to buy!"

I will miss Alan my hairdresser and his crazy ways of disciplining my wild tresses.

I will miss William my optician, and how both of us would go "Phew! All ok!" after every eye check up.

I will miss Ivy, William's cashier and her sweet "Pay by cash or card, miss?" and her curiosity at what William and I were cracking up over.

I will miss Dr. Oliver my dentist, for always telling me I have a bright smile and for his gentle dental skills.

I will miss Josephine, the consultant at Lee Hwa at Parkway Parade, who helped me pick a diamond pendant -- a wedding gift for my sis-in-law, and who always smiles whenever I pass by, knowing fully well that I need a long recovery time before I can buy the next diamond.

I will miss the grinning kid-waiters at MOS burger at Parkway Parade.

I will miss 'Georges mad bar' with the huge TV screen, outside which I did a little dance of victory with a middle-aged Malay stranger, when Taufiq won Singapore idol in December 2004.

I will miss my canine nephew who used to freak me out in the lift.

I will miss little six-year-old Charles from the flat upstairs who has been meeting me every day at the bus stop for the last three years, and shyly hiding behind his maid every single time.

I will miss the sign on my swimming pool which holds me responsible for people who can't swim, making me go "what the...??!!"



















I will miss my secret clothes shops at Parkway Parade, the location of which I refuse to disclose even to close female friends.

I will miss my symmetrical phone number which just got disconnected (I'm a land line person. I hate talking on the mobile phone).

But most of all, I will miss the beach and my rock, which used to be my 'Tanhayee point' every weekend.

I feel like I am still in a daze. I still can't believe I have to let go of all of these. It feels like something will suddenly happen at the last minute, and I will just unpack everything and stay on.

Here, where I am happy. Where I am comfortable. Where I'm me.

And suddenly, I feel so scared. It feels like the old days all over again. Of having to let go and move on. It's time. The end of an era. The beginning of a new one. It's time to move on and start a new life.

This evening, the two Sayeshas sat at the poolside and shed a few silent tears.

ps: My blog's gonna take a longish break till I set up my computer in the new house and get my Internet working. I don't post from work, so I may not be able to manage any new posts for a while, but I'll still be visiting the comments page.

The answers

Ok so here are the answers:

Legend:
Green = The truth and nothing but the truth
Red = Blatant lie
Purple = Explanation (+ making fun of people who make wrong guesses)

1. I can be safely branded as a Jill of all trades.

True. I like to do a LOT of things, so I try everything I can, and I don't do too bad. (Princesse, Arnav, Keshav, I never claimed to be a 'master' of all trades. I said 'Jill'. 'Jill' as in 'Jack'.)

2. The animals I am most freaked out by are lizards.

True. When I was 13, two lizards fell on my head. I cried for half an hour and refused to go to school.

3. I know accupressure.

True. One of the things I learnt when I was 16. Still remember most of it. Piss me off, and I will administer it. On your throat.
(So wrong guess, Avyakt! Hey, you read my blog too??)

4. I had waist-length hair in school.

False. Haha! Never had very long hair in my life. I love the wind blowing through my hair. And that's not very happening if you have long hair. (Arnav, good guess, considering you only saw me for two years in one of the six schools I have studied in.)

5. I think a chiffon sari is the most incredibly sexy attire ever.

True. My drrrreaaam is to be able to pull off a chiffon sari some day.

6. I love to exercise.

True. Nothing like a good workout. Especially when I am pissed off.
(Wrong guess, Sahil!)

7. I can whip up a mean pav bhaji.

True. You gotta try it to believe it. :P

8. I am a girly tomboy.

True. I can get as girly as a girl can get, and still loathe lots of things that girls do.

9. I love dangling earrings and hoops.

I ADORE them. Like I said before, I like gifts I can wear, and dangling earrings and hoops top the list. (Wrong guess, Avyakt.)

10. I recite the gayatri mantra every morning.

False. I know it by heart and can recite it on demand, but every morning? You gotta be kidding me. (Viv, Avyakt, Sahil and Keshav are right.)

11. Once I got drunk and slapped my friend's girlfriend in a pub.

I have never gotten drunk in my life. Or slapped a girl. Guys? Well, that is a different story altogether! ;)
(Right guess, Viv and Princesse!)

12. I stand up even if the Indian national anthem is playing in my head.

Yep. I do that. (Wrong guess, Keshav!)

13. My favourite subject in school was Sanskrit.

I absolutely LOVED Sanskrit. (Hard to believe eh, Keshav?)

14. I am very happy and satisfied with my life so far.

I am. (Arnav, Avyakt, yes there's still a lot I wanna do with my life, but at any point in my life, if you stop me and ask me "Happy so far?" my answer would be a resounding "YES!" I am completely happy and satisfied with what I have had so far.)

15. I love my job, but I hate the pay.

True. My job rocks. I could do this all my life, except that even after two promotions, my pay still doesn't match my first job's first pay! Publishing just doesn't pay, man. Perhaps I should turn author and get myself one of those royalty thingies!

16. I have not seen the Taj Mahal.

True. The only one of the seven wonders in my country, and I haven't seen it. :(
Like I say, "India nahin dekha toh phir kya dekha?" (Wrong guess (again?!) Sahil.)

17. When I was six, I wanted to be a typist when I grew up.

True. The first time I saw and used a typewriter, I was so amazed at the 'wonders of the wonderful machine'. I don't think my parents were very happy when Dad's friend asked me "So what do you want to become when you grow up, beta?" and I said, "A typist!" (Wrong guess, Princesse!)

18. I am a very loud bathroom singer.

True. I am so loud, I think I drown the sound of the shower.

19. I think a bit of arrogance in a guy is sexy.

Oooh, I love it. (But yes, Casablanca, I agree that the guy should be able to pull it off, otherwise he's just a jerk. Arnav, you should have guessed this from my comment about Abhi in an earlier post.)

20. I have never attempted suicide.

True. Dying?? I can barely get enough of my life!

21. I go for a manicure almost every month.

False. I have never in my entire life gone for a manicure.
(Virdi's gonna have sleepless nights now! Right guess, Sahil, Viv.)

22. I have at least 20 pairs of shoes.

True. And that's after I disposed off about 5 pairs. (Justme, Virdi, Viv, kindly clear your jaws off the floor, hehehe!)

23. I can beat the crap outta any guy in any racing game.

False. Real or virtual -- Sayesha and cars?? Hahahaha! :D
(Ok Siddhu, Arnav, Sahil, Viv, Avyakt, Keshav, Princesse, stop doing the victory dance! This was a giveaway!)

24. I get high on orange juice.

True. I get totally whacko-nuts after having freshly squeezed orange juice. If you ever catch me in the act, you will find me laughing non-stop, and I will tell you exactly what I think of you.

25. I love to wear black.

Love black clothes. Love them. Love them.
(And Princesse, you should know it! ;)

25 things about me

I can't believe I'm doing this, but I have decided to jump into the '25 things about me' bandwagon of bloggers.

So here are... well.. 25 things about me. (duh!)

1. I can be safely branded as a Jill of all trades.
2. The animals I am most freaked out by are lizards.
3. I know accupressure.
4. I had waist-length hair in school.
5. I think a chiffon sari is the most incredibly sexy attire ever.
6. I love to exercise.
7. I can whip up a mean pav bhaji.
8. I am a girly tomboy.
9. I love dangling earrings and hoops.
10. I recite the gayatri mantra every morning.
11. Once I got drunk and slapped my friend's girlfriend in a pub.
12. I stand up even if the Indian national anthem is playing in my head.
13. My favourite subject in school was Sanskrit.
14. I am very happy and satisfied with my life so far.
15. I love my job, but I hate the pay.
16. I have not seen the Taj Mahal.
17. When I was six, I wanted to be a typist when I grew up.
18. I am a very loud bathroom singer.
19. I think a bit of arrogance in a guy is sexy.
20. I have never attempted suicide.
21. I go for a manicure almost every month.
22. I have at least 20 pairs of shoes.
23. I can beat the crap outta any guy in any racing game.
24. I get high on orange juice.
25. I love to wear black.

Five of the above statements are sheer bullshit.

The 'SO-first year-engineering' look

Ok fine. In 1999, I ragged a junior guy in uni and made him cry.

I was young and foolish. And on a perpetual high about being the only girl in the group of hockey-stick wielding guys I hung out and ragged juniors with.

Am not very proud of it. So don't ask me for details. Those who know, know.

When I related the incident to one of my friends, he asked me, "How on earth did you get away with ragging your juniors? Didn't the fella just refuse to do what you ask him to do? And what would you do if he did?"

I could not answer him at once. But I thought about it later. Pehaps my gang days' experience played a part. Perhaps it's the fact that I showed the authority on my face. The authority of a senior who knows her way around too well. And the fact that sitting in the canteen, you can instantly identify the freshies, they have that certain "SO-first-year-engineering" look, the way they dress, the way they talk, the way they behave, it's easier to intimidate them because they know you know your way around and you know they don't.

Just like the look you can find on the face of 'the contract programmer who flew in from India this morning' or 'the first year master's nerd', there is a typical 'SO-first-year-engineering' look. I suppose I had that look too when I first came to uni. And that look got me ragged too!

Actually, it was never called 'ragging'. They called it 'orientation'. And yes, I was oriented too. Starting with getting severely reprimanded for calling the senior guys "Bhaiya" (elder brother), to being asked to stand on the steps and play antakshari against myself for an hour while the guy who ragged me said, "Am gonna get a coke. You continue singing." And sing I did. Just because he had the "I've been around" look while I tried desperately to get rid of my 'So-first-year-engineering' one.

I was reminded of all this because of something funny that happened in uni today.

I was almost hit on by two first-years.

Could be the jeans and the T-shirt. (This morning, I blacked out again so went for my blood test. Since I did not go to work, I went to uni in casuals.)

Could be the horrifying demographics I saw -- higher number of Indian guys, barely any Indian girls.

Could be the fact that I was working on my assignment in the library where the undergrads go. (I prefer to work there instead of the postgrad one because it brings back memories of my undergrad days.)

Could be the casual shirt I had on top. To protect me from the freezing cold temperature of my classroom. (When I go to uni from office, I usually take a blazer or a shawl.)

Could be the hair. (I had washed it this morn and hadn't bothered to straighten it so it was in its wildest punk glory.)

Could it be that today I had the 'SO-first-year-engineering' look?????

As I stepped out of the library, I heard some shuffling of feet behind. Two Indian guys, both 'SO first-year-engineering'! One of them said, "Main bulata hoon, tu baat kar!" I don't blast music on the ipod so I could hear them clearly. Besides, Jaggu was crooning a very soft number. I heard some more scuffling of feet, and some pushing and shoving as I walked off. As I walked further away from them, I heard the ring of disappointment in the final statement, "Kya yaar..."

I couldn't stop laughing as I walked away.

What if they'd dared to approach me? 18-year-old kids trying to hit on who they thought was another 18-year-old?

Would have been fun.

I'd have made them cry.

Surprise!

On Saturday, I woke up feeling... well... let's just say 'not myself'. Yes, yes I know I need to get that blood test done asap. I'm not being lazy! I just don't wanna go to another doctor and have to explain the whole story again. Maybe it isn't such a bad idea to print that blog post and pass it to him instead of the 'medical history' form.

Anyway, I got up and painfully made my way to the library to do my assignment which is due this week. This library has huge glass walls and you can see what's happening inside. As I walked towards it, I noticed an incredibly cute toddler, all of three maybe, sitting on the library floor right next to the glass walls. Mommy was perhaps busy in the magazine section, finding out 'how to look thin in 5 minutes' and the bored kid was trying to keep himself busy. By pressing his little palms (which were like a quarter the size of my palms!) and his tiny nose against the glass, looking at the world outside.

The sight was so comical that in spite of not feeling well, I could not help but smile at him. I expected him to blush and scoot, as you would expect a toddler to do, but he actually smiled back, with his nose still pressed against the glass wall. I burst into laughter. He waved at me. I waved back.

And just like that, my day was made. I did not feel ill anymore.

I could not help but wonder -- we love surprises, don't we? We expect our near and dear ones to give us surprises. But without even knowing it, we're getting surpises all the time. Everywhere we look, strangers around us are surprising us with simple smiles and gestures.

- The bus driver who grins at me because I just dashed towards his bus (dressed in formals) in the most un-lady-like manner.

- The cleaning lady at work who smiles at me because I made sure I did not step on the part of the floor she was mopping.

- The lady at the bus stop who offers me a lift under her umbrella during torrential rain because I forgot mine at home.

- The tea guy who cracks really bad jokes when we go to buy tea from him just because he wants us to talk to him beyond "One tea please".

- The colleague I barely knew who gave me the pink gerbera.

- The little boys and girls who work at MOS burger and grin at me when I ask them for a spoon to eat my spicy MOS cheeseburger (don't laugh, the ultra delicious sauce spills out if you try to eat the burger the usual way!).

- The cleaning lady who empties my dustbin at work every day, and chats with me in spite of not knowing much English.

- The canteen guy in uni who probably sees thousands of faces every day and yet, recognises me after three years and asks, "You study here before, isn't it?"

- The school kid in the bus who shyly asks me for 30 cents because he does not have enough change to pay his bus fare, and profusely thanks me thirteen times before alighting.

- Strangers on my blog leaving messages with that instant connection factor, making me feel like I have known them for ages.

Look out. Strangers are giving us surprises all the time.

All in a moment's work

Some things are instantaneous. And there's always a very specific moment when they happen.

Like getting crushes.

And getting over crushes.

There's always that one moment when it happens, and that one moment when you get over it.

When I was ten, there was a guy in the same class as me, but in another section. The only time I saw him was during the morning assembly, and after school when we hung around in the school grounds waiting for the school bus. And I remember very clearly what the moment of my crush was. He was at the cricket ground, teaching a six-year-old first-grader how to hold a cricket bat. And as I stood behind a tree and watched him, just like that, in that very moment, I got a crush on him.

A couple of days later, for the first time ever, I heard him speak. And just like that, the moment I heard his voice, crash went my crush. There was just something about the way he spoke, that in a moment, I just lost my crush for him.

I proceeded to develop a crush on his best friend, who had just moved into my neighbourhood. That also happened in a moment. The moment was when he came to me and asked me, "Hi. What time does the school bus reach your bus stop? I'll be taking the bus with you from tomorrow." There was something so innocent in the way he looked at me and asked that question. That was the moment of my crush.

A few days later, he came to my house to return a comic book I'd lent him. I remember the day very clearly. I was cleaning my bicycle. It was upside down, and I was using an old toothbrush to clean the insides of the mudguard, when I saw him (through the bicycle spokes) walk up to me. In yellow shorts. And I strongly suspect they had tiny red flowers on them. And that was it. It was the end. That was the moment when my crush was over.

Fast forward to the present. Cute French exchange student who breathes life into some of my most dreary lessons just by his mere presence, interrupts the hapless professor to enquire why the campus does not have condom-vending machines.

And just like that, my crush evaporates.

All in a moment.

Is this what differentiates a crush from a non-crush perhaps?

Who's reading your blog?

Incident 1
I was cleaning my room when I heard a soft voice croon on the radio, "I'm a professional blogger." It instantly caught my attention.

I couldn't help but wonder -- What the hell is a 'professional blogger'????
Someone who gets paid to put her thoughts online for others to read?
Or someone who gets paid to put "her" thoughts online for others to read?

Incident 2
A few days ago, someone I've known for about a year emailed me her blog url with the words, "Since I've been reading your blog, it's only fair that you should know mine." I was impressed. To give someone your blog url is a huge step. The moment you do it, you have sealed your fate as far as your relationship with that person is concerned. People may not realise it, but being a blog reader entails a lot of responsibilty. And I was glad she believed me to be capable of that.

These two incidents set me thinking again about the age old questions -- why do we blog? Who's reading our blog? And where do we stop? Here are my thoughts.

1. Why do we blog?

A blog (short for 'weblog') is an online journal.
A journal is private.
A weblog is public.
It doesn't seem to make sense.
But it does.

My blog has my thoughts. It is not a magazine. It is not a newspaper. It is my blog. And my blog is public because I chose it to be so. It is my decision because it is my blog. And because it is my blog, no one, I repeat, no one has the right to dictate what I blog about.

I blog to figure things out.
I blog to figure myself out.
I blog to figure life out.

2. Who's reading our blog?

When we set up our own little blog, we're all excited. We blog away to glory. On every single topic under the sun. Then we visit other blogs. We see comments, discussions. We yearn for them. We give our blog url to a friend or two. If they like it, they pass on the url, or blogroll us. In the beginning, it's all fun as everyone jumps in and talks about stuff that everyone has thoughts on. After a while, as your thoughts mature, you begin to realise that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to give person X your blog url. Person X has meanwhile, passed on the blog url to many more people. Many of which you wish you could kick off you blog.

Do you ever really know who is reading your blog? Your husband, your in-laws, your girlfriend, your boyfriend, your boyfriend's mother, your ex, your middle-aged uncle in Gomtinagar, your sarcastic boss, that sniggering colleague you can't stand, the guy you fired last week, that junior you ragged in college five years ago, the guy whose heart you broke last month, your room-mate, your pizza delivery guy, your building watchman? And the list goes on. Last month, a guy who frequents my living room almost every weekend disclosed to me that he was a certain commentator Z on my blog!

So yes, it's safe to assume that everyone -- everyone you know, and everyone you don't know --- is reading your blog. But the best part is -- it's possible to reach that stage where it doesn't matter. The whole world can be reading it for all you care, but you don't hold yourself back.

3. Where do we stop?

Now since we're working on the assumption that everyone is reading our blog, where do we stop? Where do we check ourselves and say, "Stop, don't post that! Someone may be reading it!"

Do we have to stop in the first place?

A friend once asked me, "How do you do it? How are you so open on your blog?" It set me thinking. My blog is me. And I want to be open. Without having to mentally scan through the number of people who are about to read that eyebrow-raising-scandalous-horrifying post that I'm writing.

My take is -- if someone has a problem with you being open, well, it is indeed their problem. If we have to sense and monitor our thoughts before we post them, then that's the end of thoughtless thoughts, isn't it? If you're opening up your thoughts online, the least a reader can do is respect it, and not judge you. If your boyfriend wants to break up with you over a blog post, it is his loss, not yours. 'Cos that's you and he obviously can't handle that 'you'.

(Having said that, here's why I do not pass on my blog to my family. They don't know the blog rules. They will not hesitate before asking, "Why did you write that?" or "So what exactly happened after that?" or "Who was yesterday's blog about?" And when family asks such questions, it's hard not to answer.)

A friend once said, "The ideal blogging scenario is when everyone of the writers and readers are anonymous." No complications. But it's not possible to achieve that. The real world is not like that. So let's just blog away, bloggers. Without a care as to whether something you wrote is ringing a bell in someone's head, or raising a few eyebrows.

I write from my heart. Because that's the way I want to write. When I started blogging, I was writing things like, "Ok this happened." and "That happened." And then one fine day, I started blogging differently. Incidents became a platform for deeper thoughts. Honesty came to the forefront.

And the day I started writing with honesty, I felt a change within myself. I found myself getting closer to myself. I liked the new me. I may have angered a few people in the whole "I'm-just-being-honest" process, but I discovered something amazing -- the more honest I was, the more honesty I discovered in other bloggers and blog readers. And that kind of brought us all together, even though we don't know one another. To love, respect and admire things about each other. To identify with each other without judging each other. To me, that's what blogging should be all about.

The winds are changing direction. Our thoughts on our blogs in the virtual world are slowly gelling with the words we say and the actions we carry out in the real world. The real us and the virtual us are overlapping to the point when there's no difference any more. Our blogs are slowly turning into the real us. No layers. And that's when life becomes exceedingly simple.

Bloggers, blog honesty is contagious.

Beware, you may already have caught it.

But if you dare to trust me, I will tell you that it rocks.

Punked!

"Hic... Sorry... Hic... Sorry... Hic... Sorry... Hic..."

Today my hairdresser Alan (the only guy who has unlimited touching access to my hair) was suffering from chronic hiccups.

So now I look like a 14-year-old rockstar punk.