And I thought I was all done writing on wedding cards and invites!
Just the other day, a first cousin of ours emailed us and requested that we send 3 additional wedding cards (+ all inserts) to her own distant relatives (her in-law's aunts, uncles, etc whom we do not even know or have met!?!). And there are no two ways about it - if we send it - it'll still be late and they'll think they were an after-thought and be upset. If we do not send it, said cousin will be upset and bring it up during the wedding.
So - in pure Indian fashion I ask - "Whattodo? Whattodo?".
Possible Solution - Tell said cousin that we sent the cards diligently but they got lost in the Indian Speed Post *ha ha*. Follow-up with a verbal invite deeply regretting the incident and say they are welcome to come and we'll change the seating arrangement accordingly to accommodate them. "Would like like to be seated with close family & friends or out-of-town guests? And what were their names again?" we'll say....
Hopefully they will get the hint....otherwise we'll need to arrange for additional scotch at the open bar!
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Indian Standard Time (IST)
Every wonder why it takes the East Indian friend/girlfriend/parent forever to show up for an appointment? Welcome to the world of IST. IST is pretty much ingrained in the DNA of every Indian alive. We can't help it. Just as dyslexic person sees a ‘b’ as a ‘d’, an Indian person sees/understands “Be there at 7pm” as “It would be really nice if you can arrive around the neighborhood of 7pm – give or take 2 hours”. That’s probably why the typical workday in India starts at 10.30am as compared to the North American 8 or 8.30am start time.
So – you might ask – why do Indians take forever to make it to an appointment? Other than assuming that the OTHER party in the said appointment will also be late (imagine cross-cultural situations here where this assumption would SO backfire), Indians always believe in taking their own sweet time pre-appointment – What is the rush? Are you trying to catch the next Mumbai Local? They do not see any consequences to their late arrival hence merrily go about themselves even when the critical appointment hour has passed (because of that 2 hour window in their minds). They will have an afternoon siesta, a cup of tea, make a couple of calls, perhaps engage in some light dusting/tidying up and THEN start the process of getting ready. And in-between, if the other party calls to ask “Dude - What’s up? Where are you at?” the former Indian will say “I’m on my way and it’ll only take me 2 minutes!”
Ahhh….the famous Indian “2 minutes”. Now, Non-Indians beware as this infamous two minutes may mean 120 seconds to you but to an Indian it actually means “I will meet you and I’ll get there when I get there – I’m going as FAST as I can”. The margin of error for this fictional ‘2 minutes’ can be anywhere from 2 minutes (highly unlikely and God-willing!) to 2 hours. I have actually seen people wait at the house for up to two hours before being attended to after they were told that it’d only be 2 minutes! I was also told that it’d take 2 minutes to post something at the Indian Speed Post – HAH! And we know how that turned out! Now I’ve finally learnt the hard lesson of IST – and I feel it is my duty to have shared it with you.
The other day, my sister was discussing details with her make-up artist, she told her that she needs to be all done-up and ready for the events by the arrival time printed on the wedding cards. She wanted to be punctual for her own wedding – and to that the make-up artist and I snickered and reminded her about IST. “We’ll get there when we get there dammit – give or take 2 hours!”
So – you might ask – why do Indians take forever to make it to an appointment? Other than assuming that the OTHER party in the said appointment will also be late (imagine cross-cultural situations here where this assumption would SO backfire), Indians always believe in taking their own sweet time pre-appointment – What is the rush? Are you trying to catch the next Mumbai Local? They do not see any consequences to their late arrival hence merrily go about themselves even when the critical appointment hour has passed (because of that 2 hour window in their minds). They will have an afternoon siesta, a cup of tea, make a couple of calls, perhaps engage in some light dusting/tidying up and THEN start the process of getting ready. And in-between, if the other party calls to ask “Dude - What’s up? Where are you at?” the former Indian will say “I’m on my way and it’ll only take me 2 minutes!”
Ahhh….the famous Indian “2 minutes”. Now, Non-Indians beware as this infamous two minutes may mean 120 seconds to you but to an Indian it actually means “I will meet you and I’ll get there when I get there – I’m going as FAST as I can”. The margin of error for this fictional ‘2 minutes’ can be anywhere from 2 minutes (highly unlikely and God-willing!) to 2 hours. I have actually seen people wait at the house for up to two hours before being attended to after they were told that it’d only be 2 minutes! I was also told that it’d take 2 minutes to post something at the Indian Speed Post – HAH! And we know how that turned out! Now I’ve finally learnt the hard lesson of IST – and I feel it is my duty to have shared it with you.
The other day, my sister was discussing details with her make-up artist, she told her that she needs to be all done-up and ready for the events by the arrival time printed on the wedding cards. She wanted to be punctual for her own wedding – and to that the make-up artist and I snickered and reminded her about IST. “We’ll get there when we get there dammit – give or take 2 hours!”
Another weird address...
Check this out -
Mr and Mrs Kamal Mirchandani
M.B. Opticians
93 Colaba Causeway
Opposite Philips Coffee & Tea
Mumbai 1
Besides a missing postal code - I really wonder how can a dinky coffee and tea shop on a causeway be a major landmark? Go figure! As such, if my Canadian address was translated to an Indian address, it would be:
Sonia Nanwani
c/o Rhia Cruz
Canada Way
Across the Pentecostal Church
Beside the House where Sparky the Dog Lives
Burnaby, Canada
And you figure out the postal code - Maybe Sparky will know! *lol*
Mr and Mrs Kamal Mirchandani
M.B. Opticians
93 Colaba Causeway
Opposite Philips Coffee & Tea
Mumbai 1
Besides a missing postal code - I really wonder how can a dinky coffee and tea shop on a causeway be a major landmark? Go figure! As such, if my Canadian address was translated to an Indian address, it would be:
Sonia Nanwani
c/o Rhia Cruz
Canada Way
Across the Pentecostal Church
Beside the House where Sparky the Dog Lives
Burnaby, Canada
And you figure out the postal code - Maybe Sparky will know! *lol*
Monday, September 22, 2008
Wedding Cards. We cordially invite you to...
Wedding Cards. I never realized that it was such a painful process to get the wedding cards in the hands of the recipient. It’s a science really.
First – Determine what their most current address is. This is quite a fear in India given that the address system is less of a formal physical FSA/LDU type-thingy but more of a “where am I located with respect to everything-else” entity. And address is a living, being thing in India which not only tells you where the recipient lives, but what landmarks surround their humble geographic location. Let me read out one such address to you (completely non-fictitious - I wrote this myself!):
To: Mr. Deepak Arjandas Hasani & Family
603 Mistri Chambers
Opposite Strand Cinema
Colaba, Bombay
Now – my very observant reader, you must have noticed at least one thing here – where is the postal code? The only clue was to where Mr. Deepak might live is (assuming that there were more than one Mistri Chambers in all of Colaba, Bombay) that there is a Strand Cinema across his home.
What if this cinema changes names? What if it moves? What if a gay go-go club opens across the street? Then what? So if the surrounding landmarks change, does it mean that all the addresses around that location change? This is so insane!
I’m thinking of my job in Direct Marketing – imagine how often the National Change of Addresses Registry database would have to be run if the Canadian address system operated the same way. For that matter, how does direct mail marketing in India work?
But I digress!
Second – Inserts – Who gets invited to what? Given that there is a laundry list of events to attend pre and post the actual wedding – Who is actually invited to what? I believe this is where the ultimate “scoring” of the wedding guest occurs – kinda like direct marketing again. Who is the “cream of the crop” with regards to the bride and groom gets invited to all events, while those at the “bottom of the barrel” get invited to the wedding only. Taking a peek at Mr. Deepak’s card, I think he’s only coming for the wedding *lol*
And lastly, giving out the cards personally with a small token/gift. Last night Nisha, my aunt Renu and I were up gift-wrapping crystal bowls of dried fruit (cashews, almonds, pistachios, etc) for select “upper tier” Indian wedding invitees. I must say they turned out pretty nice actually and I’ll take a picture of our handiwork for this blog. But, the part that gets to me finding all these people all around town (cross-checking their availability) and then meeting them (at least a half-an-hour affair) to hand a card. I wish we had an Indian Postal System that would do this on our behalf…who am I kidding…they have the Speed Post and ya’ll know how I feel about that!
Onward and Forward – 15 days to showtime!
BTW, Mr. Deepak Arjandas Hasani, I really hope you are illiterate and have no access to this blog! :P
First – Determine what their most current address is. This is quite a fear in India given that the address system is less of a formal physical FSA/LDU type-thingy but more of a “where am I located with respect to everything-else” entity. And address is a living, being thing in India which not only tells you where the recipient lives, but what landmarks surround their humble geographic location. Let me read out one such address to you (completely non-fictitious - I wrote this myself!):
To: Mr. Deepak Arjandas Hasani & Family
603 Mistri Chambers
Opposite Strand Cinema
Colaba, Bombay
Now – my very observant reader, you must have noticed at least one thing here – where is the postal code? The only clue was to where Mr. Deepak might live is (assuming that there were more than one Mistri Chambers in all of Colaba, Bombay) that there is a Strand Cinema across his home.
What if this cinema changes names? What if it moves? What if a gay go-go club opens across the street? Then what? So if the surrounding landmarks change, does it mean that all the addresses around that location change? This is so insane!
I’m thinking of my job in Direct Marketing – imagine how often the National Change of Addresses Registry database would have to be run if the Canadian address system operated the same way. For that matter, how does direct mail marketing in India work?
But I digress!
Second – Inserts – Who gets invited to what? Given that there is a laundry list of events to attend pre and post the actual wedding – Who is actually invited to what? I believe this is where the ultimate “scoring” of the wedding guest occurs – kinda like direct marketing again. Who is the “cream of the crop” with regards to the bride and groom gets invited to all events, while those at the “bottom of the barrel” get invited to the wedding only. Taking a peek at Mr. Deepak’s card, I think he’s only coming for the wedding *lol*
And lastly, giving out the cards personally with a small token/gift. Last night Nisha, my aunt Renu and I were up gift-wrapping crystal bowls of dried fruit (cashews, almonds, pistachios, etc) for select “upper tier” Indian wedding invitees. I must say they turned out pretty nice actually and I’ll take a picture of our handiwork for this blog. But, the part that gets to me finding all these people all around town (cross-checking their availability) and then meeting them (at least a half-an-hour affair) to hand a card. I wish we had an Indian Postal System that would do this on our behalf…who am I kidding…they have the Speed Post and ya’ll know how I feel about that!
Onward and Forward – 15 days to showtime!
BTW, Mr. Deepak Arjandas Hasani, I really hope you are illiterate and have no access to this blog! :P
Letter to Mother Cow
Dear Mother Cow,
I am writing a personal note to you to sincerely and humbly ask for forgiveness because I have sinned. In my 29 years of existence not only have I abstained from consuming beef and enjoying leather products, but I have always made sure I gratefully drank (and did not waste) every drop of milk that came my way.
But yesterday I came across an evil, evil store called HIDESIGN and I saw this brown camel cowhide handbag that actually called out to me. It beckoned to me – invitingly, only at Rs$3,850 (ridiculously at $88 CAD) and told me how great it would look draped on my shoulders….Who can pass it up?!?! Certainly not a mere mortal like me! So I caved, I was weak, what could I do? I’m sure that even if you saw it, you’d want it - ok no, scratch that thought – I’m sorry!
But back to the forgiveness – I’m asking you forgiveness for my past action and for my future actions – because I am going back to get a matching wallet, key chain, coin purse…I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I really hope you and your fellow co-mother cows will understand. A girl’s gotta have what a girl’s gotta have. And deep down inside (deep, deep down) I want you to know that I’m still a good Hindu girl (with a little bit of leather swag in her closet).
Sincerely,
Lots of Love & Hugs,
Sonia
I am writing a personal note to you to sincerely and humbly ask for forgiveness because I have sinned. In my 29 years of existence not only have I abstained from consuming beef and enjoying leather products, but I have always made sure I gratefully drank (and did not waste) every drop of milk that came my way.
But yesterday I came across an evil, evil store called HIDESIGN and I saw this brown camel cowhide handbag that actually called out to me. It beckoned to me – invitingly, only at Rs$3,850 (ridiculously at $88 CAD) and told me how great it would look draped on my shoulders….Who can pass it up?!?! Certainly not a mere mortal like me! So I caved, I was weak, what could I do? I’m sure that even if you saw it, you’d want it - ok no, scratch that thought – I’m sorry!
But back to the forgiveness – I’m asking you forgiveness for my past action and for my future actions – because I am going back to get a matching wallet, key chain, coin purse…I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I really hope you and your fellow co-mother cows will understand. A girl’s gotta have what a girl’s gotta have. And deep down inside (deep, deep down) I want you to know that I’m still a good Hindu girl (with a little bit of leather swag in her closet).
Sincerely,
Lots of Love & Hugs,
Sonia
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Indian Traffic
Near death experiences. God realization. White light. What if I told you that all of these experiences that brought you closer to God and the divine were possible? At a moment’s notice. I know, you’d probably not believe me. I’d not believe me either if I did not step into the Indian traffic scene.
India – God bless the country. The traffic system however seems to be inspired by something out of a horror flick or a very violent video game. Every day millions of Indians risk their lives when they get behind the wheel. Traffic signs, Traffic signals, Mirrors, Signaling, even ROAD SIGNS are completely non-existent in the Indian driving vocabulary.
Their mantra, to the foreigner like me, seems like: “I am just going to drive DAMMIT, and even if a truck gets in my way, who cares? I will ALWAYS make it to my destination (even if it is the final destination”. But with all jokes aside, everyone seems to have the right of way (at the same time)! Go figure. EXCEPT pedestrian right of way – what’s that? I was so close to become road kill yesterday and that was just crossing a stretch of 6 feet of road! I believe I did see God yesterday.
Honking – that is another subject in itself. It took me a couple of days to realize that drivers in India honked not only when someone made a mistake – but honking is a socially accepted phenomenon (kinda like saying ‘Hello’ when you picked up the phone) to tell the other motorists “I’m here – watch out for me”. In fact, the backs of ALL trucks and auto rickshaws are plastered with hand-painted, friendly signs saying “Please Honk Please”. So imagine everyone honking at the same time, on single lane traffic, swerving, over-taking and avoiding cows, stray dogs, beggars, pedestrians, and oncoming traffic.
Do Indians have 9 lives? Coz they certainly drive as if they do.
And if I wish to attain God realization in this lifetime, the fastest way to do it is to walk to the neighborhood supermarket everyday. What was that Kanye West song? “Jesus walks with me, talks to me…” Yea a lot of that will be happening.
India – God bless the country. The traffic system however seems to be inspired by something out of a horror flick or a very violent video game. Every day millions of Indians risk their lives when they get behind the wheel. Traffic signs, Traffic signals, Mirrors, Signaling, even ROAD SIGNS are completely non-existent in the Indian driving vocabulary.
Their mantra, to the foreigner like me, seems like: “I am just going to drive DAMMIT, and even if a truck gets in my way, who cares? I will ALWAYS make it to my destination (even if it is the final destination”. But with all jokes aside, everyone seems to have the right of way (at the same time)! Go figure. EXCEPT pedestrian right of way – what’s that? I was so close to become road kill yesterday and that was just crossing a stretch of 6 feet of road! I believe I did see God yesterday.
Honking – that is another subject in itself. It took me a couple of days to realize that drivers in India honked not only when someone made a mistake – but honking is a socially accepted phenomenon (kinda like saying ‘Hello’ when you picked up the phone) to tell the other motorists “I’m here – watch out for me”. In fact, the backs of ALL trucks and auto rickshaws are plastered with hand-painted, friendly signs saying “Please Honk Please”. So imagine everyone honking at the same time, on single lane traffic, swerving, over-taking and avoiding cows, stray dogs, beggars, pedestrians, and oncoming traffic.
Do Indians have 9 lives? Coz they certainly drive as if they do.
And if I wish to attain God realization in this lifetime, the fastest way to do it is to walk to the neighborhood supermarket everyday. What was that Kanye West song? “Jesus walks with me, talks to me…” Yea a lot of that will be happening.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Day 2 in India
Yesterday my sister and I went to the Indian Post Office to mail the remaining Wedding card inserts to Singapore. Apparently, the service that gets the snail mail from India to Singapore in the shortest possible time is called “Speed Post” – and I laugh at the irony. The “Speed Post” service in Pune is ANYTHING but speedy. Ha ha. We waited in line for what seemed like forever – I even told Nisha that we’ll be waiting in line and the wedding will be over. According to Hindu mythology, a man and wife have a bond that lasts 7 re-births....I told her that we’d probably get to the front of the line in time for her next re-birth and marriage to Yeyati. She was mortified but fully understood that at the rate we were going it was a possibility. Inching centimetre by centimetre to the front, we finally get there and the dude asks what the “suspicious” package contains. At this point I want to fly across the counter and say “it’s a bomb and we’ve decided to take this entire place down with us - *muhahaha*”. Of course I don’t.
After that whole ordeal is over – we decide to have some fun shopping. Never did I realise how tight mall security was in India. Not only do they do a full car inspection when you pull into the parking lot, but they actually scan your entire person before you enter the mall! Crikey! If I was going to blow a place up with bombs and all, my first destination would most definitely be the Indian Postal Office, specifically the Speed Post section....Jeez!
And the trip to McDonald’s was priceless! You can totally tell between the clueless foreigners and local Indians. We walk in for the potato patty McVeggie Burger and Paneer Salsa Wrap. I want more ketchup but dude behind the counter says “one packet of ketchup per person”. And I was like....?!?! The real estate on my burger patty is greater than the spread of the ketchup in the packet – why couldn’t he get that? Then my sister turns to me and goes, “I’m sure they have a ketchup dispenser somewhere” – and the manager incredulously goes “Ketchup Dispenser?” (kinda as if we asked if he could kindly surrender his first born child to us or go for a surprise colonoscopy).
Jeez – it’s going to take a while before we blend into the Indian crowd! I think Nisha is doing better than me though. She drove us to all these destinations yesterday and her driving aptitude (and her ability to curse and show unflattering hand gestures multilingually) fascinated me so much that I most definitely need to devote an entire blog entry to that. You’d never think she was a bride – but more like a road-raged, crotch-scratching truck driver! *ha ha* Ok, I really hope she (AND the Indian Postal Service, the Indian mall security, McDonald’s) doesn’t read this blog otherwise I’ll need to be part of the witness protection program!
After that whole ordeal is over – we decide to have some fun shopping. Never did I realise how tight mall security was in India. Not only do they do a full car inspection when you pull into the parking lot, but they actually scan your entire person before you enter the mall! Crikey! If I was going to blow a place up with bombs and all, my first destination would most definitely be the Indian Postal Office, specifically the Speed Post section....Jeez!
And the trip to McDonald’s was priceless! You can totally tell between the clueless foreigners and local Indians. We walk in for the potato patty McVeggie Burger and Paneer Salsa Wrap. I want more ketchup but dude behind the counter says “one packet of ketchup per person”. And I was like....?!?! The real estate on my burger patty is greater than the spread of the ketchup in the packet – why couldn’t he get that? Then my sister turns to me and goes, “I’m sure they have a ketchup dispenser somewhere” – and the manager incredulously goes “Ketchup Dispenser?” (kinda as if we asked if he could kindly surrender his first born child to us or go for a surprise colonoscopy).
Jeez – it’s going to take a while before we blend into the Indian crowd! I think Nisha is doing better than me though. She drove us to all these destinations yesterday and her driving aptitude (and her ability to curse and show unflattering hand gestures multilingually) fascinated me so much that I most definitely need to devote an entire blog entry to that. You’d never think she was a bride – but more like a road-raged, crotch-scratching truck driver! *ha ha* Ok, I really hope she (AND the Indian Postal Service, the Indian mall security, McDonald’s) doesn’t read this blog otherwise I’ll need to be part of the witness protection program!
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Day 1 in the Motherland!
Less than 24 hours since I've landed in India and I'm thrilled to be here. The sights, sounds, food, language, culture....feels like I've merged with the mothership. Actually, when I first set foot in Mumbai, I thought to myself: "This is the home of Shah Rukh Khan and Amitabh Bachchan" (Two of the greatest actors in the Hindi Film Industry) - Wow! Not that I'd every get to meet them other then cozy up to their mega-sized street posters endorsing products from baby milk to Rolex watches - but it's still good enough.
And Indian hospitality - OMG - it's in a class of its own! The driver Mr.Mishra who was supposed to pick me up from Mumbai and drive me for a full 4 hours to Pune must have written the book on care & concern for others. Halfway though our ride, at 110kms/hr, he noticed another fellow driver whose back door was semi-opened. So, he negotiated his mini-pocket book organizer from his back pocket, rifled through his book of numbers to find that particular's driver's number, DIALED the number with his other hand (note, first hand still had the pocketbook!), elbows on the steering wheel, calmly talking to the other driver saying "I am SO concerned about your safety...pull over and close your back door - now drive safely!".
Sonia says: Dude, your elbows are holding the keys to MY safety at 120kms/hr - but its wonderful that you care so much about the next driver, but seriously DUDE! *lol*
Good thing I can laugh about it now!
Good times!
And Indian hospitality - OMG - it's in a class of its own! The driver Mr.Mishra who was supposed to pick me up from Mumbai and drive me for a full 4 hours to Pune must have written the book on care & concern for others. Halfway though our ride, at 110kms/hr, he noticed another fellow driver whose back door was semi-opened. So, he negotiated his mini-pocket book organizer from his back pocket, rifled through his book of numbers to find that particular's driver's number, DIALED the number with his other hand (note, first hand still had the pocketbook!), elbows on the steering wheel, calmly talking to the other driver saying "I am SO concerned about your safety...pull over and close your back door - now drive safely!".
Sonia says: Dude, your elbows are holding the keys to MY safety at 120kms/hr - but its wonderful that you care so much about the next driver, but seriously DUDE! *lol*
Good thing I can laugh about it now!
Good times!
Monday, September 15, 2008
iPhone - A love-hate relationship
Dear Apple,
Why must you make the iPhone so complicated? Yes - it is rocket science. Yes, I don't want to download 3 different types of software just to download the tutorial on how to download iTunes. Yes, of course I want my iTunes library to be in sync with my iPhone - isn't that the reason I downloaded everything in the first place?
My name is Sonia and I am a PC user. I'm trying to be compassionate and embrace Apple into my life but 's so hard *tears*. I just want my music, key contact numbers and Oprah pod casts to be downloaded onto my phone - that's all! Why does it have to be so difficult? It's not like I'm asking for Hindi movie downloads, roadmaps on how to get from Vancouver to Mexico and online browsing (tho - those would be pretty sweet to have).
So please, please....next time you come out with a new generation of iPhones - think of the left-brained PC users who just love click and drag technology, don't want to take a tutorial just to learn how to download music, and yea....I can't think of anything else but if I do, I'll let you know.
Hugs and Kisses,
Sonia
Why must you make the iPhone so complicated? Yes - it is rocket science. Yes, I don't want to download 3 different types of software just to download the tutorial on how to download iTunes. Yes, of course I want my iTunes library to be in sync with my iPhone - isn't that the reason I downloaded everything in the first place?
My name is Sonia and I am a PC user. I'm trying to be compassionate and embrace Apple into my life but 's so hard *tears*. I just want my music, key contact numbers and Oprah pod casts to be downloaded onto my phone - that's all! Why does it have to be so difficult? It's not like I'm asking for Hindi movie downloads, roadmaps on how to get from Vancouver to Mexico and online browsing (tho - those would be pretty sweet to have).
So please, please....next time you come out with a new generation of iPhones - think of the left-brained PC users who just love click and drag technology, don't want to take a tutorial just to learn how to download music, and yea....I can't think of anything else but if I do, I'll let you know.
Hugs and Kisses,
Sonia
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Children - The miracle of life?
Recently, I've been wondering about the pros and cons of having children and I can honestly argue both ways. I've grown up with the notion that that is something that simply "must be done", no questions asked - so I never really did ask questions.
And funnily enough, I've bumped into so many situations since I've started this introspection which have drawn me deeper to the idea that "I would love to have kids someday" - like a couple on the bus looking excitedly over the wife's ultrasound pictures, like kids laughing uncontrollably when being tickled in the skytrain, like watching a father and child hold hands before crossing the street.....it makes me think - someday I want to experience the depth of emotion that comes with having your own child.
And then I was onbound an 18+ hour flight to Asia with approximately 200 hundred children (it seemed like it), all crying, screaming, yelling, kicking....and I wanted to go hide in the bathroom. The stewardess got suspicious after a while (was I smoking in there?!?) *lol* But in all seriousness, I thought to myself, oh golly, am I up for the challenge?
And then I saw them - an Indian couple surviving the same flight with their 6-month old daughter, exhausted, drained and everything you could imagine. They picked her up, held her in their arms as they disembarked, and I managed to catch that look of unconditional love and contentment in their eyes when they looked at her. It was pure, undiluted happiness.
Yea - I want a piece of that :) Sign me up in a couple of years! Till then, I'll stick myself in the bathroom between the toilet paper and the hand-sized sink and catch a couple of zzzzzz.... to prepare! *lol*
And funnily enough, I've bumped into so many situations since I've started this introspection which have drawn me deeper to the idea that "I would love to have kids someday" - like a couple on the bus looking excitedly over the wife's ultrasound pictures, like kids laughing uncontrollably when being tickled in the skytrain, like watching a father and child hold hands before crossing the street.....it makes me think - someday I want to experience the depth of emotion that comes with having your own child.
And then I was onbound an 18+ hour flight to Asia with approximately 200 hundred children (it seemed like it), all crying, screaming, yelling, kicking....and I wanted to go hide in the bathroom. The stewardess got suspicious after a while (was I smoking in there?!?) *lol* But in all seriousness, I thought to myself, oh golly, am I up for the challenge?
And then I saw them - an Indian couple surviving the same flight with their 6-month old daughter, exhausted, drained and everything you could imagine. They picked her up, held her in their arms as they disembarked, and I managed to catch that look of unconditional love and contentment in their eyes when they looked at her. It was pure, undiluted happiness.
Yea - I want a piece of that :) Sign me up in a couple of years! Till then, I'll stick myself in the bathroom between the toilet paper and the hand-sized sink and catch a couple of zzzzzz.... to prepare! *lol*
Friday, September 5, 2008
Next Blog Inspiration
Weddings - Given that I will be spending close to 5 weeks of my life preparing for one of the most important weddings I will ever attend - the next blog (or couple of blogs) will be random ramblings about the concept of wedding & marriages (to me!), with a spot-light on East-Indian weddings.
Stay tuned!
Stay tuned!
The Notebook
I finally watched the movie “The Notebook” today in its entirety and I have to admit – I cried. It’s been a long time since a love story has been able to move me emotionally, right until the end. I started out my young beginnings truly believing in the “forever” kind of love (I mostly blame the romantic 80’s Hindi movies for this). The last decade has me a little on the jaded side though and thus I have found other ways to fulfill myself such as work, friendships and my beloved Yorkie, Bentley.
But, at the end of the day, I know we are looking for that ONE love, but what is it about this friggin’ love that eludes us? Is love all about luck, passion and holding on by the tips of your fingernails (Noah & Allie)? Or is love about sacrifice and letting go (Lons & Allie)? The latter makes me reflect on this quote from Prison Break:
"The keys for someone else’s happiness are not necessarily the same ones as to your own".
I guess I am looking for the happy-happy kinda love, not the sad-happy flavour. Does that even make any sense? Sacrifice, letting go, forgiveness – these are all essential to finding that true unconditional love, but what’s the point when it leaves one alone and empty?
I think we should all strive for the happy-happy love that sweeps us away and keeps us on Cloud 9 till the very end. Granted that not all of us can or will find that love in this lifetime – but wait, I’ve come upon a secret and let me share it with you!
Start with loving YOU! And I don’t mean the narcissistic, egotistical or self-centred “I think I am a big-shot” kinda love. But more of a “I am enough, I am worthy of my own love, forgiveness and kindness, and I am-going-to-do-everything-I-can-to-make-myself-happy-even-if- it-means writing I-love-you-yellow-stickies-to-myself kinda love”.
Buy yourself your favourite flowers, savour some fine chocolates , indulge in your favourite hot curry *lol*, or treat yourself to a nice hot bath, and I bet you, when you start loving yourself Mr. (or Ms.!) Love will come knockin’ at your door! Just make sure you freshen up that curry breath with some mints tho!
But, at the end of the day, I know we are looking for that ONE love, but what is it about this friggin’ love that eludes us? Is love all about luck, passion and holding on by the tips of your fingernails (Noah & Allie)? Or is love about sacrifice and letting go (Lons & Allie)? The latter makes me reflect on this quote from Prison Break:
"The keys for someone else’s happiness are not necessarily the same ones as to your own".
I guess I am looking for the happy-happy kinda love, not the sad-happy flavour. Does that even make any sense? Sacrifice, letting go, forgiveness – these are all essential to finding that true unconditional love, but what’s the point when it leaves one alone and empty?
I think we should all strive for the happy-happy love that sweeps us away and keeps us on Cloud 9 till the very end. Granted that not all of us can or will find that love in this lifetime – but wait, I’ve come upon a secret and let me share it with you!
Start with loving YOU! And I don’t mean the narcissistic, egotistical or self-centred “I think I am a big-shot” kinda love. But more of a “I am enough, I am worthy of my own love, forgiveness and kindness, and I am-going-to-do-everything-I-can-to-make-myself-happy-even-if- it-means writing I-love-you-yellow-stickies-to-myself kinda love”.
Buy yourself your favourite flowers, savour some fine chocolates , indulge in your favourite hot curry *lol*, or treat yourself to a nice hot bath, and I bet you, when you start loving yourself Mr. (or Ms.!) Love will come knockin’ at your door! Just make sure you freshen up that curry breath with some mints tho!
Monday, September 1, 2008
Did I miss the memo?
Damn – sometimes when I hear the lyrics of songs these days, I think to myself; I’m missing some cool lingo in my Sonia dictionary. I mean, given that English is like my third language, I must say I have a fair grasp of it. But then why do the lyrics of some rap songs absolutely baffle me?
I’ll give you some examples, perhaps you can help by posting your comments – and I warn you, you are not allowed to laugh! These are genuine questions!
Lil’ Wayne’s Lollipop
“Shawty wanna thug
Bottles in the club
Shawty wanna hump
You know I like to touch
Ya lovely lady lumps”
Now – someone please explain to me – who is this “shawty” he speaks of? Is this the same as “shorty” from other R&B lyrics? And are lady lumps the ones on the top or bottom?
Jay-z’s Bonnie & Clyde
“Look for me! Young, B
Cruisin down the westside - high, way”
Similar to Tupac’s California Love:
“California (california)...knows how to party (knows how to party!)
California (west coast)...knows how to party (yes they do)(that's right)
In the city of L.A. (city of L.A.)In the city of good ol' Watts (good ol' Watts)
In the city, the city of Compton (city of Compton)
We keep it rockin! We keep it rockin! (come on, come on, come on...)”
I’ve always heard about this “Westside” and “Eastside” business, but now I really need to ask – West or East of WHAT?!?! And why does it matter? And say, if you were born or raised in the east or west (of whatever) can you switch?
Here’s another one: Snoop Dogg’s Drop it like its hot
“When the pimp's in the crib ma
Drop it like it's hot
Drop it like it's hot
Drop it like it's hot
When the pigs try to get at yea
Park it like it's hot
Park it like it's hot
Park it like it's hot
And if a nigga get a attitude
Pop it like it's hot
Pop it like it's hot
Pop it like it's hot
I got the rolly on my arm and I'm pouring Chandon
And I roll the best weed cause I got it going on”
Drop what? Pop what? A hot potato? A pizza pop? Are they talking about drugs?!?! Also, why is every other person in these songs called “pimp”?
I think this is all for now....Once I learn these words, trust me, they will be in my vocabulary faster than garnish on butter chicken, pistachios on kulfi (Indian ice-cream) or chutney on a hot samosa. I’ll tell my co-workers, “yo mama – pop the report like it’s hot coz I’m from the Westside and if you don’t, shorty’s gonna get you”. Did I get it right?
Peace!
I’ll give you some examples, perhaps you can help by posting your comments – and I warn you, you are not allowed to laugh! These are genuine questions!
Lil’ Wayne’s Lollipop
“Shawty wanna thug
Bottles in the club
Shawty wanna hump
You know I like to touch
Ya lovely lady lumps”
Now – someone please explain to me – who is this “shawty” he speaks of? Is this the same as “shorty” from other R&B lyrics? And are lady lumps the ones on the top or bottom?
Jay-z’s Bonnie & Clyde
“Look for me! Young, B
Cruisin down the westside - high, way”
Similar to Tupac’s California Love:
“California (california)...knows how to party (knows how to party!)
California (west coast)...knows how to party (yes they do)(that's right)
In the city of L.A. (city of L.A.)In the city of good ol' Watts (good ol' Watts)
In the city, the city of Compton (city of Compton)
We keep it rockin! We keep it rockin! (come on, come on, come on...)”
I’ve always heard about this “Westside” and “Eastside” business, but now I really need to ask – West or East of WHAT?!?! And why does it matter? And say, if you were born or raised in the east or west (of whatever) can you switch?
Here’s another one: Snoop Dogg’s Drop it like its hot
“When the pimp's in the crib ma
Drop it like it's hot
Drop it like it's hot
Drop it like it's hot
When the pigs try to get at yea
Park it like it's hot
Park it like it's hot
Park it like it's hot
And if a nigga get a attitude
Pop it like it's hot
Pop it like it's hot
Pop it like it's hot
I got the rolly on my arm and I'm pouring Chandon
And I roll the best weed cause I got it going on”
Drop what? Pop what? A hot potato? A pizza pop? Are they talking about drugs?!?! Also, why is every other person in these songs called “pimp”?
I think this is all for now....Once I learn these words, trust me, they will be in my vocabulary faster than garnish on butter chicken, pistachios on kulfi (Indian ice-cream) or chutney on a hot samosa. I’ll tell my co-workers, “yo mama – pop the report like it’s hot coz I’m from the Westside and if you don’t, shorty’s gonna get you”. Did I get it right?
Peace!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
