Curry in the City

What are the ingredients of my curry?

2010-06-23T21:27:00.000-07:00

This particular blog entry has been on my mind for the past couple of days, compelling me to write for reasons unbeknownst to me – so here I am. I have lately been practicing the art of meditation as I hold a very strong belief that it will have progress my physical (and spiritual) well being. In the course of my practice I have felt a very strong, surreal connection to my parental grandfather, dada, who passed away a little over 2 and half years ago. I’m not sure why, but it has just happened. This is a humble attempt for me to sow the seed of my thoughts to a fully germinated blog entry.

I did not cry when dada passed away. Maybe part of me thought that he did not really pass on, that he went on another vacation or trip, and that he will be back soon - so I did not accept it. Because I did not know where exactly did he go after he died?

It still seems like yesterday when I was 4-5 years and he would wake me in the middle of my sleep (much to the annoyance of my mother who painstakingly put me to sleep!) to show me the brilliance of the moon. That would my and dada’s special time together. He would wake up and go to work before me and would come home long past my “first” bed time. And as sleepy and cranky as I was, I had an inkling that it was a special moment and I should pay attention. Those were the times he told me stories about mythical Indian princes, princesses, gods and the crocodile. Yes, every other story from dada had a crocodile in it. It amazed me that when his sense of imagination took flight, it would always be anchored in a crocodile. I think he did it for my benefit sometimes because I once visited a crocodile farm and was fascinated by the creature. It was his way of telling me that no matter what the story or the morale, there was always wiggle room for a bit of imagination, humor and fun. I used to wait for the grand entrance of the crocodile in all his stories!

In dada’s final years as his health took a turn for the worst, dada was frenzied about dividing his assets amongst his children and grandchildren. Dada was a practical man, and just as he did in his load-bearing years he believed that after him no account should be left unsettled or book unbalanced. I would always wonder – What would dada give me? A diamond ring? His coveted prayer books? His size 10 slippers? *lol* What would I inherit from my dada? It took me 2 years to realize what I did inherit from my grandfather.

Other than my bony hands and feet (double-jointed with amazing dexterity!) and a forehead the size of Maharashtra, I inherited dada’s spirit. I realized now how many similarities him and I have that have nudged us along similar paths. He too embarked for Singapore all by himself in his teenage years, starry eyed, in hopes of earning money to send back to his family. He bravely faced a new culture, language and work ethic to survive. I inherited his resilience to live apart for his family and make the best of his situation.

I too have his uncanny sense of direction. This is a famous story in my family – when I was barely 6, dada and I went on one eventful Sunday to the temple. Somehow, we were separated from each other and I (being a smart cookie) went back to the entrance of the temple to sit by his size 10 Indian slippers (dada’s trademark). As you can imagine, waiting is very hard for a child and even mere minutes seem like hours. So this is what I did. I put on my own slippers and walked home (2-3kms away) all by myself. My mother was HORRIFIED when she saw me all alone. She asked me where dada was and I said “He got lost!” in Sindhi. It never occurred to me that I was the one who was lost! This is another thing I inherited from my dada – fearlessness. I don’t remember the last time I was afraid.

So, I’ve been teary eyes lately, grateful for all these gifts bestowed upon me by my grandfather throughout my life. A friend told me “If you are thinking about your grandfather so much then why don’t you visit his grave or his urn with flowers?” The thing about Hindu last rites is that there is no evidence of the physical body once the person has moved on. A Hindu body is cremated and the ashes are sprinkled in the river which is considered sacred and holy to our culture. Where could I go? This is where my meditation practice has come in. Over the last couple of days I have realized that where my dada lives now is with me. He is in me in everything I do, say, experience. I may wear size 9 slippers, but I still dream of princes, princesses, gods and the crocodiles. I have lived and survived in my new home; my new country Canada, with the same fearlessness displayed by my dada when he came to Singapore to make it his home. Adapting to the Canadian winters, accents, sushi with Shiraz – my resilience comes genetically in my DNA from dada. My keen sense of adventure at exploring new countries, be it Hawaii, Mexico, Hong Kong, Thailand armed with just a map or a GPS – now I know where I got that from.

So this blog is my ode, my tribute to my dada. Whether his soul resides in the moon that captured both his heart and mine, in the sacred river where his ashes are or at KFC (where he and I both loved eating mashed potatoes with gravy), I wanted to say: Dada, thank you for the journey and the special moments we had to steal to be together. Thank you for the beautiful inheritance you have entrusted upon me. And thank you for showing me that one can still live on after one has passed.

And also dada, thank you for sparing me size 10 shoes. Size 9 are big enough! :)

p.s. Long live the crocodile!

Hospital Chronicals

2010-05-25T01:04:00.000-07:00

Well, I know it has been a while since I last blogged, something came up. I was diagnosed with a disc protrusion problem in my spine which caused left-sided sciatica. I needed the disc matter removed from my spine so that it did not block a nerve that ran down my left leg (causing unprecedented amounts of pain and lack of mobility). I had my surgery on May 14th at Vancouver General Hospital and am pleased to let you know that I am on the road to recovery. Regardless, it will still be a long time before I can watch an abdominal exercise commercial without cringing or tearing up!

I thought of blogging all my experiences, mostly so that I won't forget and many, many years from now, I can look at them and laugh. As all of you know, my blogs are purposefully funny and entertaining and I have done my best to make the most of even the bleakest situations so the next series of my blog entries is dedicated to my condition and recovery. My sincerest hope is that you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed observing and writing about my experiences.

And as a tie-in to my previous weight-loss blogs, I hope that the brand new Sonia Nanwani (or "Gimpy" as I am so affectionately called given my reliance on my walking stick :) with some less L5-S1 disc matter post-surgery would be a couple of pounds lighter. Hee hee!

Darn, who am I kidding....I got rid of some light disc matter not an entire butt cheek! *lol*

Where Can A Girl Get Some Veggie Food?

2010-05-25T01:02:00.000-07:00

As everyone who knows me know I am a vegetarian. (People who know me better know that I’m not too fond of vegetables, but I digress!) So, one of the most pertinent things pre-surgery was to ensure that I was booked for vegetarian meals during my hospital stay at VGH. When my appointment was booked with my surgeon’s assistant two weeks prior to the surgery date, I asked her if she could reserve a vegetarian meal for me. She politely said that it would be the actually staff of VGH who would be able to help.

Four days prior to my surgery, I was “interviewed” over the phone with pre-surgery questions (regarding my allergies, health history, etc) and I asked the interviewer if I could request my special meal with her. She said I needed to speak to someone on the day of my surgery.

On the day of my surgery, I was asked to report to the Admitting Department at the Jim Pattison South Pavilion. Upon arrival and submitting all my information, the staff member asked me “What religion do you belong to?” I beamed. Finally. He is going to take down my meal preference. I proudly said “Hindu”. It felt like checking in at ticketing counter at the airport and I was stating my meal and seat preference. The tag around my arm with my name and care card information felt like my personal boarding pass. Nice!

So, fast-forward to post-surgery. I’m starving and thirsty because I’ve not eaten anything since the night before. I await my meal. It finally arrives and lo behold, I am served fish. I’m like “Dude, I’m Hindu and vegetarian”. The meal server (for lack of a better word) shrugs and says, “All I have is fish!” I then turned to a friend and asked, “Why did they ask me upfront if I was Hindu if they didn’t translate it to my meal choice? The reply was not one I expected.

She said “They ask you your religion so that they know who to call in the event that they need to perform your final rites”.

Gulp.

Thank god I didn’t clue into this pre-surgery. Well, I guess it’s good to know that even though VGH cannot get the meal information right, they will be able to get the final rites down pat. But then again, what good does it to me anyways? I still would be hungry either way!?!?

Don't Poke Me with Your Big Needle!

2010-05-25T00:59:00.000-07:00

So, in addition to everything else I suffer from intense needle phobia. Good for my parents, I will never consider being a drug addict :) But in all seriousness, I regress to a 2 year old when it comes to being poked and prodded. I cry, kick and scream, create a fuss, bargain, sometimes threaten...very un-Sonia-like. But I guess that is what fear does to one. So, in my pre-surgery interview I mentioned that I had needle-phobia and the nurse noted it down on my chart. On the day of my surgery, I was admitted to the pre-operative department where I was “set up” for my surgery: IV with saline and a series of blood tests was performed on me.

I don’t know about you, but blood testing really scares me. And the nurse who was given the royal task was not helpful at all. I was already upset with the IV in my left arm when she came by. She looked at my chart and started assembling the vials that will need to be filled up. These vials are colour-coded (each probably bearing a different test). And I was alarmed when the nurse picked two blue vials, two yellow, two pink, one green....and I looked away at that point. I was like “Dude, are you drawing blood for testing or shopping on rollback pricing at Walmart?” Was she the Princess of Darkness taking my blood for another series of shooters on the movie set of True Blood. I’m usually really good at sucking it up, but I was distraught.

Then I timidly asked her, will it hurt? I think she laughed and there was a lightening flash followed by several claps of thunder. I think she was wearing a black cape too. She put a “butterfly” (or something like that) so that she could use the same line to fill the millions of vials she had instead of poking me over and over again. I closed my eyes. Do it quickly. Do it quickly. Do it quickly. The butterfly was hurting. Then the Duchess of Doom decides, let us verify my name and other information. I was so tempted to say “Yo, Queen of Things that Go Bump in the Night, can you do this AFTER drawing out my blood? You’re not guzzling gas or sucking Pepsi through a straw where you can take your time! This really hurts!!!”

After what seems like an eternity, the butterfly is out and she walks away satisfied. I guess I did my part for the cast of Twilight. I’m pretty darn sure ALL that blood did not go towards “testing”. :(

Time to Sleep!

2010-05-25T00:58:00.000-07:00

So, after being prepped in the pre-operative department of VGH, I was wheeled into to operation theatre and met team of 3 nurses, 3 surgeons and 1 anaesthesiologist. They were extremely pleasant and introduced themselves to me. You wouldn’t think I was getting operated on but attending someone’s dinner party. That is because I saw them UNWRAP THE SILVERWARE in front of me! I was like “Dude, I find this whole meet and greet process charming, but I really think you forgot to put me to sleep or something. Should I be seeing all this?” Oliver, my anaesthesiologist smiles and says, “Ooops a daisy! Ms. Nanwani, I am about to administer something that will make you sleep and forget the entire procedure”.

Much better. So much better.

Oh yea, I told him. Before I forget, I’m in here for plastic surgery job. I’m supposed to look like Angelia Jolie. He laughs and I think the last words he said were“You wish”.

Hey, a girl can try *lol*

Hey, I Remember You!

2010-05-25T00:56:00.000-07:00

So, I wake up post surgery and am greeted by the team of surgeons who worked on me. Unfortunately, I still look like me and not Angelina :) Anyways, one of the surgeons asks me how I am feeling and if I can remember what day it is.

I turned to him and said “I feel great and this is the best day of my life!” Then I continued “And hey, I remember you...before I blanked out in there, I remember you and the chainsaw in your hands!” *lol* I thought I would make him laugh. But there was no inkling of a smile on his face. In fact, he said “Ms. Nanwani, that observation was incorrect. As per the hospital procedures, a chainsaw is not considered an instrument of medicine. And given that we performed a discectomy on you, there is no instrument even resembling a chain saw that was used during your surgery”.

What do you say to a response like that? Of course there was a chainsaw, but I think it was up your......

I think I have watched too many medical drams with cute doctors with a great sense of humour: ER, Grey’s Anatomy, Scrubs, etc. Sorry gals, not all doctors are like McDreamy or McSteamy...*sigh*

What Is This? Air India?

2010-05-25T00:52:00.000-07:00

So...I think I mentioned that I likened my whole hospital experience akin to checking in at the airport to catch a flight. Meals, Seats/Rooms, ID Tags/Boarding Passes.....so why should the luggage situation be any different? At the pre-operative room, I was given the option of leaving my luggage in my “cubical with a curtain” and it was promised to be transported directly to my room post-surgery.

Post Surgery – I’m in a shared-room sans luggage. It was a lot of effort to speak given my throat was sore after the breathing tube was removed. But I tried to ask for my luggage and was told that it was “temporarily unavailable”. What does that mean? How does a hospital lose luggage?
Thankfully I had my best friend to do the legwork for me to find the luggage. He looked in the pre-operative room, and all the other floors and wards where neurosurgery patients were taken till he finally found it. I was so ecstatic to see my purple Lululemon podium bag with the most precious of all contents – toilet paper. The stuff that is in the ward’s bathroom is NOT toilet paper. It’s made out of sandpaper for people who enjoy exfoliating their bottoms! And real toilet paper is like a precious commodity in a hospital. Kinda like cigarettes are in prison. They can be bartered for food, protection and drugs. So I made sure I packed lots and asked all visitors to give me toilet paper in lieu of flowers, chocolates and other gifts :)

It can get annoying sometimes though – especially when you are resting and someone sidles by your bed begging for “the good stuff” in exchange for anything. Dude, where were you when the Bride of Dracula was pumping my blood like cheap gas from the US?

If I Ran a Hospital...

2010-05-25T00:50:00.000-07:00

Hospitals are busy places – and here are some tips they should give to patients before their surgical procedure, as an orientation of sorts, to make the patient’s stay easier :)

1. Explain what do the different coloured uniforms mean? I saw nurses in pink, green, blue and yellow. Do they refer to different types of nurses? Then tell the patient which one can prescribe the GOOD drugs? I want to be BFF with that one!

2. Allow the patient to put mini note on their door, curtain or at the of the their bed to let the nurse/doctor/food server know as to “Do not disturb” or “Disturb ONLY if you have good drugs” or “Wake when the food is good” :)

3. Encourage waxing before surgery. This is highly important but often overlooked. With the number of adhesives that will be put on and taken off pre, during and post surgery, it is highly recommended that, regardless of gender, the patient should consider waxing. This will greatly ease the process of adhesive removal (Who needs more pain? Seriously?)

4. Overlook the patient sneaking in their cell phone to make personal calls because installing a land line costs $3.25 per day. They’ll need those savings if they want a telly at $17 a day! (And trust me, this is not a rip off – the PARKADE folks at VGH have a PhD in Daylight Robbery)

5. Ensure patients bring a pad of paper and a pen and keep it on hand. Doctors believe in visiting bright and early (6.30am) and giving patients vital surgery, recovery and drug information while they are exhausted and on a heavy dosage of intravenous drugs. Ask the doctors to write everything down because, trust me, patients will have no recollection of the conversation later.

What Happens When the Lights Go Out?

2010-05-25T00:46:00.000-07:00

So, I’m released from the hospital within 24 hours of surgery. Not sure why coz I was still not feeling well and drowsy. I was graciously invited to live with family friends post-surgery to recover so I was heading to their home. I arrived at 5pm and went to bed right away. It so happened that they were having a pre-scheduled dinner party on the same day I arrived, at 6pm. The dinner party was eventually underway while I napped and woke up only to take my meds. At 9pm, I was invited by one of the family members to have something to eat. I thought it would be a great opportunity to “practise” walking and stretch out my muscles so I opted to go to the kitchen where the dinner was. I was fine as I tried to mingle and eat my food (that was so thoughtfully mashed up and heated so that I could swallow it, given my sore throat). Did I mention how I love these people for their kindness?

So, here I am standing by the island and having just finished my meal. I turn to my host who asks me if I would like some chocolate mousse cake for dessert. At that exact moment I felt a wave of nausea overcome me. I thought I was going to need to go to the bathroom so I looked at my host and a lady guest and said “I’ve got to go now”...

And then I fainted.

All I recollect is the next morning when I was told the gory details. I passed out in the middle of the kitchen and my quick-thinking friends “caught” me so that I did not fall and tear my stitches. One of the guests summoned up the mean who were downstairs and it took two-able bodied family members to lift me (in all my glory) and put me back on my bed. There was contemplation of calling 911 as well.

Holy cow! How was I to know that between dinner and dessert at the party I would actually give everyone a show? I felt embarrassed as I have always prided myself as this tough cookie. Never did I think that I would experience a system shut-down. But the interesting part is that the embarrassment quickly turned to extreme humility and gratefulness.

Humility: I felt humbled when I realised that I am not “in control” as I often think. In fact, it is entirely a myth if I feel that I have an infinite power over everything that concerns me. The fact that my body failed me and that the past many months have been the most physically painful, made me realise that there is more to ME than my body. As a Hindu, I’ve always believed the concept of a soul but it is the first time I felt the distinct separation between my soul and my body. This experience has taught me that I am more than the sum of my visible parts. There will be times when I will have no control over my body, the pain it is subjected to and the pain that is inflicted on it – but my soul remains intact, serene and peaceful. In this journey of life, my body is simply a conduit. If I always remember this, than pain loses its relevance, doesn’t it? Deep eh?

Gratefulness: I felt a deep sense of gratitude towards the family that cared for me during my dark, painful moments. I cannot even count the number of tears they wiped, the number of times they held my hand when I was fearful and the number of times they taped together the broken fragments of my body. It was their healing hands and loving hearts that put me together, physically and emotionally. I read somewhere a long time ago that “one can easily judge the character of a person by the way they treat people who can do nothing for them” – and based on the way I was treated, I was humbled to meet people whose character traits I aspire to.

**This particular blog is dedicated to Kam, Sarb, Suki, Amrit and their mom :)**

Random Rants...

2010-01-08T13:47:00.000-08:00

Even though I've started the theme of "weight loss" in my blogs these days, you can't blame a girl for digressing and talking about something else, can you?

Today my rant is about sky train rides. I feel I lose weeks, maybe even months off my life span every time I ride the sky train. I die a little every day. And it's not about not having a comfy seat to rest my booty on (damn you people from Surrey - King George terminal station who always score one!) or a railing to hold on to...but it's due to the lack of human consideration when riding the train.

Here are some examples just in the past year (with my commentaries!):
1. Someone flashed her naked boobies while making out with her boyfriend in front of me.

Sonia's Commentary: If I wanted to see naked boobies, I'd watch the Discovery or National Geographic channels' feature on the Zhaka Zulu tribe's mating rituals - not take the train! How old are you fool? I should call your parents!

2. Young punk guys with rock music blaring on their mp3 players.

Sonia's Commentary: Dude - if I can make out the lyrics of the song you're listening too - it's too loud yo! Guess who will be cashing in on their extended healthcare plans for hearing aid coverage?

3. Sickies who sneeze without covering their mouth, nose or other liquid-ejecting orifices.

Sonia's Commentary: After the H1N1 pandemic, are you kidding me? If I wanted to get sick, I'd take a plane to Mexico and french kiss a swine. Till then, say it - don't spray it!

4. Pushy people who rush into the train BEFORE passengers have alighted.

Sonia's Commentary: Oh no you didddnnnn't! I'm going to whoop your @$$! And I don't care if you are a granny....!

5. People with big bags, suitcases sometimes (damn the Canada Line to the airport!) who take up two or more seats to ensure their luggage is comfortable on the way to Vancouver.

Sonia's Commentary: Damn brother (who is too cheap to take a cab to the airport) - it's more important for me to sit my booty down than ensure that your luggage gets to the airport in first class!

6. People who stand by the doors and do not move in to make space for people getting on the train.

Sonia's Commentary: Do you think I am a Dementor from "Harry Potter" and I can glide above your head? Move out of the way!

7. Best yet, when the train doors are about the close, people who block the doors from closing and shove their way in. And the icing on the cake is that they think they can fit when they OBVIOUSLY cannot!

Sonia's Commentary: Did they not take any physics classes in high school on body matter and volume. Damn yo - the volume of your booty is greater than the space between my face and the door; so don't even think you can get on brother!

So every single day, I feel pushed, prodded, stepped on on my way to work and back. I’m subjected to illnesses (via the ecosystem of germs that live on the trains), people with weird smells, temperaments and the horrors of public nudity (often starting out as public displays of gross affection and moving to porn within 2 stations!).

If I wanted to feel this way I would have opted to be a chicken in this life and become stuffed in one of those crates that are shipped to the abattoir for slaughter. Well, at least they don’t feel violated when the next chicken rubs up too close (blaming the cramped quarters).

And what are the sky train officials doing? Seriously? They just sit on the side lines and watch people get on and off (and get paid to do it!). Once in a while they will check transit passes but what do they really do with their time? What is their job description? If they spend more time regulating the flow of persons into and out of the train (at least!), and less time checking themselves out on the glass of the fire extinguishers, we'd have a more pleasant ride!

With the anticipated flood of people during the Olympics, I dread what the sky train holds for me. Perhaps I should consider skateboarding or paragliding to work? I’m currently working on teleportation.

Beam me to work Scottie!

Weighing myself is like...Russian Roulette

2009-12-23T11:02:00.000-08:00

So - I had this uber funny though. I was listening to "Russian Roulette" by Rhianna as I was working out yesterday and thinking about the lyrics (I was doing the Vertical Bench so I had to go to my "happy place" or focus on something else) and I felt....OMG - It so feels the same way as when I'm weighing myself in on those archaic scales (the sliding ones - who uses those these days?) and moving the weights along the scale - begging, pleading that it doesn't pass 130 lbs as it goes by...Check out the lyrics below (I also made some substitutions...)...

Imagine I am walking towards the scales for a weigh-in....

Take a breath, take it deep
Calm yourself, the scale says to me
If you play, you play for keeps
Step on the scale, and count to three
I’m sweating now, moving slow
No time to think, my turn to go

And you can see my heart beating
You can see it through my chest
And I’m terrified but I’m not leaving
Know that I must must pass this test
So just step on the scales now....

Say a prayer to yourself
He says close your eyes
Sometimes it helps
And then I get a scary thought
What if I've gained weight, and not lost?

(Chorus)

As my life flashes before my eyes
I’m wondering will I lose weight?
So many pounds still to lose...
But it’s too late, damn, I already ate...

(Chorus)

*LOL* Isn't this funny and sad at the same time?

And I did feel this way as I weighted myself last night and lo behold, I'm back at the 132 lbs I started with. I wanted to kick something (Did I mention I'm PMSing too?)...I kept my dignity in check and walked out of the gym with my head held high.

No more weigh-ins...it is too traumatic....

Of course I'm in shape... Isn't Round a Shape?

2009-12-23T10:56:00.000-08:00

I know...I know...I rarely do back-to-back blog entries but this is something I wanted to share so here goes...

Growing up, I hated working out to the core. My PE teachers and classmates could attest to this. Once a week (every week) we had to go for a 2.4km run around the track (which I detested in every shape or form). So what I would do (with my best friend Raudhah) was get changed into our shorts, mark our attendance with the PE teacher, and after that, conveniently go back to the washroom. We would change back into our uniforms and stroll back towards the college (and in the mass of 100+ students we would be mistaken for an earlier group that already did the 2.4km run). The coolest thing would be that since we had nothing to do for the next 1.5 hr, we would head to the McDonald's next door and wave at the runners while digging into our Big Breakfast. Those were the days of great metabolic rates (I was 18 dammit!).

Little did I know was that the Pied Piper was a patient beast and eventually I would have to pony up all the kms I missed out running. As a Hindu, I'm big on karmic retributions, and all those hash browns are coming to bite my big brown booty! It's pay back time!

If only those folks from Temasek Junior College can see me now; huffing and puffing on the treadmill with all my glory, weighting in on the scales with dread (that can only equal that of meeting the Grim Reaper) and turning down another Krispy Kreme donut while my100 lb co-worker chows down 4....they would say, "Alas! It took 12 years and now we will laugh and wave back while snacking on them Big Macs...." *muhahahaha*

I know life isn't fair - but darn it - I'm bringing sexy back (just give me a couple of months though....)!!!

Weight Loss Blues

2009-12-22T11:27:00.000-08:00

"You don't realize how strong a person really is until you see them at their weakest moment" - Anonymous

It is not easy to admit - but my weakest moments have been at the gym trying to finish my sets and push through back-breaking workouts and realising that I've not lost any weight. Realising there is NO positive correlation between weight loss and effort on the cardio machines is the pits! I could put in 3-4 hours per week (just in the cardio department!) and it does not guarantee any weight loss but there was always a possibility of weight gain. Bloody hell!

Often, celebrities in the media claim that so-so diet ensured 10 lbs lost a week; or a certain beach workout was a guarantee ab-builder. I find it hard to believe. Me, a regular girl, with a regular life, who was doing her best in the diet and exercise arena was barely seeing any loss in 3 weeks of relentless gym dedication. In fact, the only time I can claim to have lost 2 lbs was when I fell sick (I'd love to take credit for that though).

So things brings me to the next point in my epiphany (and I think I have loads of those as I am blanking out more often due to the lack of food in my system!) - Why is there such an emphasis on body type/shape? Do women just do it to themselves or is it perpetuated by what we see in the media? Or is it a desire to be different from what we are naturally predisposed to (We see it all the time; girls with straight hair want to go curly and vice versa)? Are we simply not enough? For whom? Ourselves?

I will be the first to put up my hand and go - I am my own biggest critic. If I take the moment to step back, and go, "Hey - It's OK if I've not lost the weight I wanted to but I'm making huge healthy changes in my lifestyle...."that should be enough. And you know what they say - when you watch something boil for some reason, it feels like forever? Maybe, just maybe, our bodies work that way too. If we take the pressure of weight loss off, maybe the weight will come off? Who knows...? But it doesn't hurt to give it a try.

Till then, I just write to Santa and tell him I want Beyonce's butt for Christmas....It's IRREPLACEABLE!

They talk to me you know...

2009-12-03T14:41:00.000-08:00

So - What happened the other day when I was trying so hard to be good -

We had a kick-off meeting when one of our key initiatives was launched. And to celebrate during the 2-hour meeting, there was a basket of muffins, scones and donuts. The best part, I was sitting right next to them. I could resist and pretend they were not there for awhile (while various team members were reaching for the goodies and commenting on how delicious they were)...

And then I heard the voices...

"Eat me....come on...I know you wanttttt too...."

I gulped. I could not breathe. I was breaking into a sweat.

I heard more voices...

"Eat us! Eat us! Lather us in raspberry jam...We know you loooveee raspberry jam..."

I bit my lip. Damn....one of these muffins would be the end of the entire 1,200 calorie diet. I had to resist. And I still had 90 minutes of the presentation to go...

Epilogue

I didn't make it.

Alas, I am a woman of flesh; with weaknesses and limitations that include (as you all know) chocolate, bananas, raspberries...I had half a banana chocolate-chunk muffin and it was sooooo good (tasting) but soooo bad! And perhaps I have another problem now too. I don't "see dead people" but I hear treats calling out to me.....

*sigh*

Bentley has started looking mighty tasty....

2009-12-02T15:44:00.000-08:00

So - Day 4 on the new diet and I have to say that 1,2000 calories don't go very far.

The trick to this bloody diet is that you have to make the most of your calories - stretch them on foods that make you full and don't make too much of a ding to your calorie budget. Things like brocolli are great to make you feel full with little calorie impact (But Like Neuman from Seinfeld I say "Vile vegetable!" and need to wash it down with some mustard!)

I remember the first day when I was done my limit after breakfast! That was the end of McDonald's anything for me....it got better over day 2, and 3 of the diet...and now I go over only by a couple hundred of calories per day, but it's not as bad and I am not starving myself.

Two things have occured since I've started my extreme workouts and I've been eating better...

#1 - I initially noticed a dip in my energy levels (especially after the work-outs) but I feel fitter and breathe easier (I'm not huffing and puffing like a big bad wolf anymore!) as the days go by...

#2 - I'm learning to survive on the "better" foods and I actually feel guilty when I don't eat right. I've finally understood the concept of "my body is a temple" and I don't want to feed it with junk. Talk about a shift in mind-set.

And to compliment this transition, I've also started working on my spiritual and psychological needs as well. I've been reading "The Relationship Cure" by D. John M. Gottman which is a step-by-step guide on building better emotional connections with loved ones. I am a firm believer that transformations need to be holistic - and a healthy mind (with healthy connections) is one that can go to the distance when it is under physical stress (new diet and exercise routine). I feel that I can be successful if I embrace all the elements that surround my existence and ensure that they balance each other to make me a happy, healthy individual - well, at least it is a hypothesis I'm testing as a guinea pig! *oink oink*

But alas, I am human, and a woman with intense chocolate cravings. So when they came (and oh, they certainly do!) I go a little cuckoo and compensate for my chocolate needs by eating my baby carrots with gusto that freaks out Bentley. Someone told me to pretend the vegetables and fruit I was eating was like candy ("it's all in your mind..")....and no matter how much of that I eat....I think to myself..."Who am I kidding...? Vile vegetable!"...

"Come over here Bentley....you're looking mighty tasty tonight...you little chocolate dog"

*muhahaha*

The taste of chocolate....

2009-11-29T19:03:00.001-08:00

So Day 1 of the weight loss program -
Protein shake was my liquid lunch as it was 300 calories of wholesome goodness. I blended 2 bananas, soy milk, 1/2 cup of protein, banana flavouring & yogurt after my crazy gym workout. I was so hungry and excited about the prospect of eating something. I drank 2 glasses of the shake and spent a good 10 minutes licking the glass blender - god! I've turned into one of those people on Survivor. I think I could eat a rat if it really came down to it...Talk about Empathy 101!

Also, in preparation for my cold turkey, I've also denied myself pop (Pepsi, Coke, etc) and chocolates in the past month or so. Today I was making one of my legendary brownies for one of my good friend's birthday - the "awesome" Toblerone brownies. As I grated the toblerone bars for the batter, one fell and I thoughtlessly picked it up and put it in my mouth. Now I know what the addicts must feel like when they come in contact with drugs (or vampires who swear off blood but get a slight taste of it). I think I went slightly loca...I needed to pull myself together.

They need something akin to Alcoholics Anonymous for the rest of us trying to diet...damn you under-30 people with great metabolic rates. I hate all of you. Just kidding - I don't.

Yes, I do.... :P

Weight on my Mind...

2009-11-29T18:57:00.000-08:00

I know – it’s been ages since my last blog post. Other than being busy, there was no “major” event in my life that I wanted to keep everyone abreast of. The last one was my sister’s wedding. I finally found something I bet many people can relate too (or may have the same “struggle” with) – WEIGHT.

I turned 30 this year and the 30th year + 1 day I was alive – something weird happened. The 3 birthday cakes I had enjoyed the day before woke up next to me (I am used to waking up alone!). I was warned for the entire year leading up to my 30th that this was going to happen. The weight just sticks to you. But hey, this is me we’re talking about and I live in denial. So I kept thinking that it was a phase my body was going through (kinda like water retention once a month) but something was different – I could not pin-point what exactly had changed.

I had my Wellness Assessment at my gym two weeks ago and I heard what I have not heard in all my 30 years of being alive. “Dear, you are 6% overweight. You need to lose 11 lbs to bring your weight to your ideal body weight for your height and age”. I could not believe it. How could it be? I eat right – A vegetarian who doesn’t indulge in junk food, no fast food, and better yet, doesn’t smoke or drink. How could I be 11lbs overweight? (That’s 5 kilograms for those of you who believe in the metric system).

Still in denial when I came back – I came to Facebook to look for comfort in the arms of my family and friends. I could not help looking through the “history” of my FB status updates for the last couple of months and could not believe what I saw!

“I had Rasmalai for breakfast – yum”....
“3 birthday cakes? That’s it?”....
“I made a huge tray of almond-pistachio biscotti & coconut-pecan banana bread today!”
“Mango vs. Pistachio kulfi – Which do I heart more?”
“Time to wear the elastic pants – Dinner at Shabusan tonight”..
“Can’t fit into my work clothes...hopefully one day work pants can be optional and we can wear sweats (and/or jammies) to work”...

It was all staring at me in the face...the clothes that don’t fit, my affinity to elastic everything, my fridge filled with more desserts than vegetables, me panting to catch the train (or Bentley), or the best one, me eyeing the old lady sitting in the sky train wondering if she or I deserved the seat more (as I could not stand for the 4 stops from Commercial Drive to Brentwood)! I was living an unhealthy lifestyle and kidding myself that being vegetarian trumped all! Dude!
So the next series of blog posts will be dedicated to my efforts in losing the 11 lbs over the next 50 days (wish me luck!). I’m on a friggin’ crazy workout administered by one of the trainers at my gym and my good friend Sarb will help me with the diet choices.

I’ll end this post as a tribute to all the foods that I used to love to devour (and think about all the time pre-devouring) and bid them farewell in an attempt to get closure on the previous unhealthy chapter of my life and as Sarb cleverly puts “Be prepared to eat for nutrition and not for taste”.

I bid thee farewell:
• Yam Fries lathered in chipotle mayo from White Spot
• Awake Tea Mistos from Starbucks (with 6 pumps of Vanilla syrup)
• Chocolate Lover’s Cake from Safeway
• Yan-Yan (*sob* A whopping 320 calories per box)
• Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes and my friend, buddy, confidant, Tony the Tiger
• Polar Bear Sugar Cookies and Mint-Chocolate Chip Brownies from Starbucks
• Croissants (this is sooo very hard...the little baby cute ones have 45 calories each)..
• Kaju Barfi/Kulfi/Jelabi/Milk Cake....
• Poutine from KFC
• Onion Rings from Burger King
• Tomato Basil Soup from Safeway
• Yam Rolls & any other sushi with cream cheese
• Actually...strike anything with cream and/or cheese...

I think I need a good cry in my bathroom....

It wasn't me...

2009-08-01T19:08:00.000-07:00

Travelling with my mom is an experience within itself. I love my mother dearly and have in the recent years realised that I want to spend as much time with her and my family as I possibly can. But that’s as sentimental as I’m going to get in this blog entry. This one is dedicated purely to one of the funniest things that happened on the trip.

So, at the end of our journey as we boarded the plane and were seated, the air stewardess came up to both of us and greeted us personally with a piece of paper in her hand. This is not uncommon since my mom and I are notorious for pre-ordering our Asian Vegetarian Meals and we get a re-confirmation from the flight crew prior to take-off. I totally expected a visit from the staff.

What I did NOT expect was the air stewardess said –

She read from the piece of paper in her hands and looked at the both of us with deep compassion in her eyes. She did not speak English well so we had no clue if she was referring to my mom (Mrs Nanwani) or me (Ms Nanwani) but this is what she said:
“...Nanwani...if there is anything I can do to help or assist you in your condition, please let me know. I am always here for you...”

What condition was she talking about? She seemed like a doctor who had taken a look at my latest test results and was putting on a brave face to tell me the bad news.

And she was talking SO slowly, pronouncing each and every word – Other passengers might have thought we had learning disabilities!

So we smiled and said “Thank you” to her. What else could we say?

And then mom and I turned to each other and went “She was talking about YOU, wasn’t she?”

Then my mother turned to me and said – “Shall I ask her for an upgrade to first class?”

Talk about taking full advantage of the situation. I AGREED!

I thought about asking her to bring an unopened bottle of Johnnie Walker’s Blue Label to help me wash down my pack of nuts.

The possibilities were endless.

But unfortunately, the lady did not return to take our special requests. It was a short flight back to Singapore anyways – but I guess it will always remain a mystery as to what information she had (or she thoughts she had) regarding us – but I will stick to my guns that the stewardess meant “Mrs Nanwani” (no matter what my mother thinks!).

Ha ha...

Hong Kong Adventures

2009-08-01T02:47:00.000-07:00

Confusion, Crowds, Chaos

Those are the three things that characterized my very first impression of Hong Kong.

Regardless, I was determined to immerse myself in what it feels like to be part of Hong Kong!

My entry into Hong Kong International Airport (affectionately known as HKIA) brought on a lot of confusion. If I landed on one terminal, why am I going to the next terminal to check in to immigration and pick up my bags? It then occurred to me – HKIA is massive! Fact: HKIA operates one of the world's largest passenger terminal buildings and operates twenty-four hours a day. In 2008, Hong Kong International Airport was the second busiest airport in the world in terms of cargo traffic, handling 3,656,724 tons of cargo. It was also the 12th busiest airport worldwide in terms of passenger throughput. Wow! To handle such huge capacity, it had to be massive!

And speaking of confusion – I believe it anyone can successfully navigate Kong Kong’s MTR system – they are more likely a whiz rocket scientist! MTR, or Mass Transit Railway, is the rapid transit railway system in Hong Kong. The network includes 211.6 km of rail with 150 stations, including 83 railway stations and 68 light rail stops. Holy cow! The MTR system is a common mode of public transport in Hong Kong, with over 4 million trips made in an average weekday.

Here is an interesting tidbit about the MTR - Unlike many other metro systems around the world MTR stations do not have toilet facilities available for public use, although their installation has been contemplated. The folks running the line said it would not consider retrofitting existing underground toilets because of the challenge of installing new piping and toilet facilities. Jesus Christ! If you can build an under and over ground complicated transit railway system that serves 150 stations – I’m sure you can come up with a way to install a porta-potty in each station! As you can probably tell, I have been screwed over when I’ve travelled long distances on the MTR with a Venti Starbucks Tea Misto! :P

But I digress!

This brings me to my next point about Hong Kong – the crowds! You know, when you have a day off from work or a vacation day and you can easily go to Superstore or stroll along HWY 1 with little to no traffic? This is NOT the case with Hong Kong. There is no such thing as an “off-peak” time. EVERYTIME is a “peak time”. A small tidbit of information - With a population of 7 million people but land area of 1,108 km2 (428 sq mi), Hong Kong is one of the most densely populated areas in the world. So there are people coming out of the wood works (or more ethnically appropriately) out of the ying yang ALL THE TIME!

And this results in chaos. But, I believe having been to Hong Kong, there is such a thing as good and bad chaos. Bad chaos is what I was traditionally accustomed to when I visited the key night markets in Hong Kong: Ladies’ Market, Temple Street Night Market and Jade Night Market. Note, most of these are night markets which is not surprising since Hong Kong well-known for being a city that does not sleep.

Good chaos, in my mind, is an interesting harmony of sorts. You know, when you visit cities and there is one or two things special about them that you always cherish? With BC it’s the Nature; Australia’s Great Barrier Reef; China’s Great Wall? With Hong Kong, it has everything. In one of my pictures taken from the cable car ride to Lantau Island – I saw vast mountains covered with natural forests cuddled by huge bodies of water. And encapsulated in its midst – the city! Skyscrapers galore! Hong Kong, in its humility, has everything to offer! Jeez – I swear this is not a plug for the Hong Kong Tourism Board – honest!

I came away from the travel experience with three things I will remember the most about Hong Kong:

Cosmopolitan, Charismatic, Crazy

Except when you need to use the bathroom urgently while on the MTR!

I heart Hong Kong!

Looking for a Rav4...soon!

2008-11-25T11:58:00.000-08:00

I know - I am shameless....this blog is meant to educate, entertain and ...well, I could not think of something else that starts with the letter 'e'.

But anyways - I am looking for a car - so if you know anyone who is selling a 2003+ Toyota Rav4, preferably in white (but I'll take Silver), hard cover for the spare tire and reasonable clicks, let me know!

A trade-in with my Silver 2001 Beetle would be cool but not necessary.

604.617.0937.

Chiropractor & Rambo – What is the difference?

2008-11-25T11:57:00.001-08:00

Speaking of my recent back problems…my chiropractor, Dr. Ranjit Sandhu, has unknowingly become my best friend in the last week or so. It is still beyond me how someone can magically put you out of pain with a simple crack of a bone….After my 4th adjustment with him, I looked at him incredulously and said “You’re a witch – aren’t you?” To which he laughed. And getting him to laugh is quite a feat since we didn’t get off to a good start in the first place.

I was nervous and a non-believer in the chiropractic sciences to start off with. And I was unfamiliar that adjustments = cracking bones in your body to achieve optimal alignment. Sounds scary when you think of it! So just as he positioned me for my very first adjustment I stopped him saying…”Are you sure you know what you are doing? I watched Two & A Half Men and it seems like chiropractors are not REAL doctors”.

Bad move. You don’t diss the saviour who will put you out of your painful misery!

But I guess he took it in good spirit. Funnily enough – he has also been a great source to dispute all the questions that have plagued me. Yesterday as he was cracking my neck and spine – I asked him:

“You know, I’ve seen in movies how people can kill someone by cracking their neck. Kinda like Rambo. Can you kill someone too?”.

He could not stop laughing. Apparently (and I proudly share this knowledge with all of you who have had the same question…) it is not possible to kill someone by snapping their neck. It is just a gimmick in movies – meant to thrill and evoke a sense of awe.

At least now I am not afraid of pissing him off and having him kamikaze my neck bones…*lol*

I’m on my way to Old Age…

2008-11-25T11:53:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I was standing in line to pay for my groceries and was right behind an elderly lady (70+ years old) in a wheelchair. Quickly glancing at the contents of her grocery cart, I was shocked to notice that we bought exactly the same sort of stuff….dates, soup, lactose-free milk, tomato sauce, bananas, cereal, yoghurt, chocolate…

People ALWAYS make fun of my ridiculous eating habits – commenting that I eat (and my food choices) are similar to that of a 2-year old or an 80-year old: soft, squishy and sweet. I take little to no roughage (celery, asparagus, etc…) and prefer all my food mashed up so that I can drink rather than eat it.

Textures, flavours, spices….I’m not an extrovert at all when it comes to dining! In fact, I am even much worse than that hermit or spiritual recluse who has banished all exotic or “different” food from their palate.

I have always admired people who are curious with their cuisine….rather than reverting to the same ‘ol thing as I do. I don’t have an excuse. I am lame – and I will admit it.

But I’m not sure why it came as a shock to me that granny and I had exactly the same shopping basket. Put me on a little motorized wheelchair and strap on a fanny pack – I’m there! And with my recent back problems…I’ve even got the posture to put me in the 60+ age group. I look at retirement villas, special parking spots, motor wheelchairs and playing bingo as goals to strive for. :P

Sigh – I guess I need to be content with being a under-30-something and act my age. Perhaps start with some celery and asparagus...

NOT!

New Brown Guy...

2008-11-13T21:47:00.000-08:00

So I saw him again today - same time, same place. Right outside Purdy's when I get into work at 8.30am - ok, I lie - more like 8.45am. But I digress! He is this cute brown guy, great smile, completely solid, looks personable and did I mention - completely yummy?

Funnily enough, I see him around the same time every year - close to Christmas. He seems to be waiting for someone. I am too afraid to approach, worried what might he think of me. I too am brown and understand the nuances of our traditional culture. The girl never makes the first move. If my family lived here - I'd love to bring him home to meet them. They would be delighted - especially my sister. Hands off girl - I spotted him first!

But alas, there is something that bothers me....He's $179.98 - How can you put a price on something like that? But Purdy's Chocolate obviously has on "Kris Kringle". His 3-foot elfish body is made out of sinful milk chocolate. And he has a smile that melts my heart - he's just not any chocolate that comes in a box....how can you measure that in mere dollars and cents? Shame on you Purdy's! This here is a brown guy all brown girls dream of - he never talks back even if you take a chunk out of his arm! :P Ahh....Kris Kringle, I will dream of you tonight. In my sweet, chocolately dreams...

What does Progress mean to me....

2008-11-12T20:41:00.000-08:00

As women in this day and age; ambition, drive and progress are things we pretty much crave - whether it is in our work or personal lives. Accountants are especially guilty of this; if life were a balance sheet, we often need to see a positive change year over year, an increase, a profit, an addition to your own personal net worth. We very badly feel we need something to show for. Another candle on the birthday cake, another year has passed – am I in the same spot as I was a year before?

And I guess this is where the crisis comes in – call it mid-life, quarter-life crisis or more like a “any point in life-crisis”. An evaluation of year-over-year snap-shot of one’s personal net worth at any point in time can even bring a seemingly confident “Devil Wears Prada” biaach-type career woman to her knees.

But a very wise woman, whom I had the pleasure of listening to at the recent Power of Women conference in Vancouver, said something with regards to progress that I will never forget. Alison Levine, one of the most outstanding women in the world in my books, overcame her own personal tragedies and physical challenges to climb almost all of the tallest mountain peaks in the world. As a professional climber, she mentioned that people often have the misconception that climbing is a linear process. Climbers don’t move from Base Camp to Camp 1, to Camp 2, to Camp 3, to Camp 4 and then the Summit in that order.

Everyone knows that the air becomes thinner the higher you go. This is why jet aircraft are pressurised, and why Alpine mountaineers become breathless as they climb. So in layman’s terms, it is imperative to gain height slowly (acclimatization) and be prepared to lose height quickly at the first sign of real sickness which can be as mild as nausea, hacking cough, stomach problems, etc to more severe problems like the build up of fluid in the brain.

What this means is that climbers, in order to acclimatization, need to start at Base Camp, proceed very slowly to Camp 1, spend the night there, and come back down to Base Camp. Spend a couple of nights at Base Camp, move to Camp 1, spend a couple of nights there, move to Camp 2, and then back to Camp 1 and Base Camp. This can be disheartening since more time is spend coming down or moving in the direction OPPOSITE to the Summit. But it is necessary and it is progress. Every time the climbers make it to a camp and altitude higher than they have been before, even when they are descending to Base Camp, they have made huge progress in terms of acclimatization.

So – what did Alison teach me that day – progress is not correlated with the direction one is moving at all. Sometimes we need to take a couple of steps back to move forward. Sounds counterintuitive, I know, but it was like a light-bulb went off in my head. I think I even got emotional for a bit. There have been quite a few years when I was hard on myself for I thought I was not making much progress professionally and personally. I thought I was as stagnant as the waters the Singapore Health Inspectors warn can breed mosquitoes! I felt I had to work harder, longer, late into the night to succeed. I needed a significant accomplishment every single year. Damn – I thought I had drive, goals, dreams and ambitions and not enough time! I don’t think there was a single instance I actually gave myself a pat on the back for a job well-done, whether it was an MBA, buying my first place or scoring an office in downtown Vancouver with a name plate that glorified the Nanwani name.

But thanks to Alison, and to all the teachers and mentors before her, I have learnt that life is really about smelling the roses. Another wise person once told me that on your deathbed, the last thing you ever regret is not working longer hours or finishing up more projects. One often regrets the vacations left untaken, the experiences and risks missed, and the people we didn’t take the time to appreciate or say “I love you” too. So why not do all those things right now so that we live life without any regrets. We leave the world saying “Whoo hoo! What a journey!” And that will be the beautiful view because we would have finally reached the Summit of our lives.

The Lie-Clock

2008-11-08T12:17:00.000-08:00

My posts are usually as original as they can get - but this joke tickled me so much that I simply have got to share:

A man died and went to heaven.
As he stood in front of St. Peter at the Pearly Gates, he saw a huge wall of clocks behind him.
He asked, 'What are all those clocks?'
St. Peter answered, 'Those are Lie-Clocks.
Everyone on Earth has a Lie-Clock.
Every time you lie the hands on your clock will move.'
'Oh,' said the man, 'whose clock is that?'
'That's Mother Teresa's. The hands have never moved, indicating that she never told a lie.' 'Incredible,' said the man. 'And whose clock is that one?'
St. Peter responded, 'That's Abraham Lincoln's clock. The hands have moved twice, telling us that Abe told only two lies in his entire life.'
'Where's President Bush's clock?' asked the man.
'Bush's clock is in Jesus' office. He's using it as a ceiling fan'.

*ha ha* My lie-clock would probably be used to generate electricity - like a windmill. Well, at least some good will come out of this all!

Weirdos..

2008-10-29T21:05:00.000-07:00

I honestly hate to judge people and their sense of fashion - I mean, it's like the pot calling the kettle black coz my co-workers can vouch that I basically live in my 'Top BC Companies to Work" mauve jacket. So who am I to talk about others?

BUT, in the last couple of days I have seen so many fashion misfits or anomalies that I really need to get it out of my system by blogging. It is my way of cheating karma - Technically I didn't SAY anything bad, now did I? *lol*

So here goes:
1. New Westminister Skytrain Station, Early morning rush hour, Lady goes to work in tight leopard tight body-hugging and the highest red stilletos I have ever seen in my life. And if you noticed, Halloween is not here yet and it is friggin' cold in the morning! Why?
2. Gym in our building, Lunch hour, Guy is working out in his white long-sleeved dress shirt, dress pants, black dress shoes (with white socks!) and blazer. No jokes - he was on the bike. I think he had his briefcase with him as well. Seemed like he was supposed to go for a meeting but enroute suffered from amnesia and decided to work out instead.

I'll keep this particula blog up-to-date with more sightings...I'll do my best to take pics too. Wish me luck!

I thought I was mutating.....

2008-10-29T20:52:00.000-07:00

Ok - funny and embarassing story!

In the last couple of days, I have suffered silent internal grief. Everytime I'd cleanse my face and neck with the Clinique Toner (Step 3 BTW!), I'd realise that the cotton I used would turn green. I was petrified. First I thought Vancouver had finally upped India in terms of air pollution (Stupid - I know...). Andthis kept happening every single day. Every night, I'd cleanse after a shower and without fail, GREEN, GREEN, GREEN! I wouldn't turn green after the morning shower though.

I thought, deliberated, tossed and turned....What could it be? I finally came to the most logical and rational conclusion of all - I am turning into Frankenstein or the Incredible Hulk - Indo-Canadian female version of course! And to be honest, I was learning more towards the Incredible Hulk due to his brute strength and intelligence (although everyone who knows me has seen me in my duh! Frankenstein moments). Anyways...I digress...

So for the last week or so...I thought I was mutating. I was close to telling people "Don't get me angry...or else" Give me that report coz I really don't want to hurt you" *laugh* And then, as I walk into work today the sweet receptionist goes "Sonia - I love your GREEN & BLUE scarf!". And I go...WHAT?!? So all this while my skin has been absorbing the pigments of my scarf? Now, that should have put my mind (and dermatologist) to rest but somehow I can't help feeling a little disappointed...

Why is life so unfair? I guess I am not mutating after all :( Now I really have to go get a Halloween costume!

Ridiculous!

2008-10-27T20:43:00.001-07:00

Check this out...I got this email today...

"It's that time of year when pets take to the street in costume looking for trick or treats! Okay, let's be honest, they're seriously looking for treats...Our new gift bags are a great way for your dog to give something special to the neighbourhood canine goblins when they come to your door!We'll personalize the gift bags with your favourite pet photo and customize the caption to suit the photo! Then we ship these unique gift bags to your door, and you fill them with your homemade treats, toys and other tricks-or-treats!"

So now Bentley is going to give out Halloween treaties in personalized gift bags to his buddies? Are you kidding me? Is it not enough that he's going to dress up this Halloween, be allowed to have high-fat content treats, go on a play date with small-sized pups AND attend a Halloween Party just for Yorkies? Do I now have to invest in personalized doggie bags to give-away to his poochie friends & bake treats for them? Welcome to doggie motherhood I guess...*sigh*

FFine.....let me call "Dogs R Us"....I'm such a sucker for petite doggie gimmicks!

Post-Wedding Blues

2008-10-20T20:48:00.001-07:00

Seems kinds weird to be sitting in my jammies with no make-up on, trying to wrestle my brand new slippers out of Bentley's paws. Don't I have a party to be at to dance the night away? Oh...I forgot, I'm back in rainy Vancouver and the wedding is over! Funny thing is, when the chaos was going on I could not wait for it to be over (I am pretty sure the bride and groom felt the same way). But now that it is all over and done with, and my sister is officially "Mrs Nafrey" with her own set of house keys and all - seems like it was too short of a journey. I met wonderful people, got acquainted with our new family members, and added a bunch of people to my friend on Facebook *whoop whoop y'all*

And it would be wrong to not thank a bunch of people who played a part, in some form or another, to make this entire production of a wedding, oops...I meant "wonderful journey" possible. In no particular order (and sorry if I missed out on anyone!) here goes it:

1. Nafreys - a fun-loving bunch of people - So glad Nisha will be part of their family.
2. Nanwanis - our family....a more serious bunch of people who end up being funny accidentally!
3. Dr. Dilip Shah - to whom Nisha has hurled thousand curses - I don't think he'll ever be able to spawn again! Did his microderm-abrasion treatments really work Nisha? *lol*
4. Suman the house-keeper who had a last-minute suicide in the family *perfectly coincided with when she was needed around!*
5. Ravish - one of the best caterers around!
6. Family from Hyderabad who pulled through with all the Karachi biscuits and goodies...thanks for travelling 12 hours by train to join us for this special occasion! And additional Nafrey family travelling from Ireland, Dubai, US and Canada....
7. DJ Kaavas - one of the best known DJs in Pune for giving us one of the best dance events during the wedding - the Mehandi!
8. Neha Ahuja - the awesome make-up artist who made-up both Nisha and myself - also thanks to her mom for helping me with my sari on the day of the reception *check out my profile pic*
9. Hongkong Hair Salon for all the waxing, bleaching, hair spa, massage, body polish, hair colour.....you ladies rock! Thanks for being patient even though we were short Rs200!
10. The band that played during the wedding...They could actually play "Kabhi Kabhi Aditi"! But unfortunately, we wanted "Papu can't dance sala!".....*lol*
11. The Maliks - for organizing the awesome Singapore Flyer adventure and the Moon Chin dinner afterwards..
12. Aunty Sapna for organizing the Singapore reception at the Singapore Swimming Club!
13. Neta from Banjaaras from Aundh for costume design - you did a fantastic job at maybe not-so-fantastic prices! :(
14. Renu didi who should have been a Formula 1 race car driver instead...the rate at which she drove us to and from Nasik should only be looked upon with awe and admiration....I still wet my pants thinking of that day. Thank you God for Gravol....and seat belts....and air bags....and cows on the street that make you want to slow down a wee bit...

And here is another special tribute to the following individuals as well, who hurled many obstacles our way (!@#$%^&*()!@##!!!):
1. Mr Bangle dude from Shivaji market....Once again, dude will spawn no children at the rate Nisha was abusing his @$$...
2. Jack & Ratna...or best known as Jack & Jill - Imagine the Louis Vuitton of Decor in Pune...American prices for Indian devices.
3. Prem Advani's Decor people...you suck no matter what you decorate - the house or the Meridien....
4. Pradeep, the next door neighbour who brought in the cops during the kick-off prayers to fight over the plumbing/water tank issue....
5. Mrs. Thomas, Romina's tutor who insisted on tuitions every friggin' day all the way in bloody NIBM!
6. Le Meridien, Sunita, and gang - Totally screwed up with the dry day, open bar concept and all that jazz. There was not even one single laptop available in the business centre to use. Jeez! John Eapen actually "pimped" me to ask the business executives staying there if we could borrow one for the presentation!!!
7. Subash - Subash - Subash - I know you have "pain in your heart" from working - but dude, seriously! Who has heard of a driver who doesn't really know how to drive? Who needs street directions? I'll never forget you Subash......
8. The ghazal lady who wanted to charge an arm and a leg (and Nisha's firstborn as well) to sing for half-an hour at the function. She wanted a stage, her private entrance, silence during the performance, and lord knows what else! Celebrities, I tell ya!
9. RameshAdvani and his wedding card graphic designer....need I say more?
10. The Indian Speed Post *ha ha - Speed*
11. Joseph - the rejected decor dude who hurled curses at me when I told him it's not on. I can't imagine how his ex-girlfriends might have felt when they broke up with him coz he doesn't take rejection too well! :P
12. Indian Priest for Jaaniya/Satya Nayaran ceremony...are you a priest or a game show host? Who ever heard of a priest asking the audience pop questions during a prayer? And then buzzing..."Noooo you're wrong!" Seesh....get on wid it dude!
13. The owners of Amazing Grace and relatives of "Aunty Joyce"....may you never lease out your property to innocent renters....think of instead renting it out to horror sets. You'll get a bang for your buck and Aunty Joyce might even have a role! :P

And there you have it....all the happiness and maddness all rolled into one! Laugh, cry or reminisc, but for now, they are memories that will be cherished. One thing is for sure, I would have been a happier person if I had not made the acquaintance of two feline furries, known as Happy Singh (nicknamed Hapu) and Basanti. May I never see you critters @#$%$#%^&*^%...... *lol*

So far I have learnt.....

2008-10-08T21:32:00.000-07:00

1. Last night I managed to take a full-body bath with just a mug of water. Don’t ask me how and why – it happened and I’m part amazed. The second part of me never wants to live through that experience again and would drop a hundred bucks for a hot shower!

2. Because I realized that no matter what the happy occasion is, 7 tequilas are SEVEN tequilas and they will slap you in the face when you wake up in the morning!

3. No matter how much you iron your hair in India – the humidity will make sure that I look like a troll – so why bother?

4. I should not have designed and fitted my clothes when I got to India, fattened up with all the food, and expected that I’d easily fit into a sexy low back halter top! I had to breathe and laugh in short bursts last night!

5. Do you know what true happiness sounds like? Clean, running water.

6. Although India may be divided by race and the caste system, there is another thing that divides us Indians - those with water, those with electricity, those with both and then, those with neither *sigh* Unfortunately, unlike the racial and caste system, these distinguishing lines are not etched in stone and you can easily move from one category to the next. Can you really blame those with "neither" for the cardinal sin of envy/jealousy?

7. You know you're all grown up and ready to set foot into the world of Indian adulthood when you successfully negotiate your first bribe. In India, bribes are a way of life. And completely optional. You can choose to stand your moral high ground and not pay it (and instead pay hundreds of US dollars in excess luggage) or you can slip the guy behind the counter a bunch of chump change discreetly in your passport *wink wink* and get your bags onboard. Hey - I had hundreds of dollars worth of shopping I cannot possibly part with!

8. Anything is possible in India - from cows trying to run you over on foot, to pious priests convincing you to bathe in a stinky river that will absolve you of all your karmic sins (& give you some skin diseases in return - sorry, I opt for karmic sins with a side of fries please!), to the rickshaw guy thinking he is part of a Jackie Chan movie and driving like a manic escaping the mafia, to the Speed Post which thinks it delivers mail to the rest of the world (you knew I had to get a Speed Post comment in there!).

9. Weddings in India are spectacular to look at and attend, but the amount of work and preparation that goes into them can drive any bride balistic. I know that when I saw my sister in her pre-wedding outfit, all dolled up (etc, etc) get on the phone with the renegade bangle dude, hurling curses to him (and all his future generations and past ancestors!), demanding explanations and screaming - I wouldn't even recommend my enemies to tie the knot in India. Otherwise, the only knot they'd want to tie is to hang themselves from the ceiling fan somewhere because the caterer or decor guy decided to pull a no-show :P

10. Wedding de-briefs....ahhh....gotta love them! Post any wedding function, the family always spends at least 2 hours debriefing on who wore what, who said what and who did what. They enthusiastically need to compare notes lest they forget some juicy tid bit of gossip. I personally think that everyone needs a personal cam to record their own experiences and append these to the wedding video itself. And to make some chump change off the entire experience - you'd might as well throw in some paid advertising/commercial breaks and I'm sure all the wedding guests will be dying to have their own copy!

The Wedding Hour Approaches.....

2008-10-08T21:23:00.000-07:00

Today is the day the much-awaited event occurs – the wedding! I know I’ve been delinquent with my blog entries, but whattodo? Whattodo? At the pace things have been coming together (and falling apart – only in India I say!) it’s hard to keep the sanity in any situation!

For instance, at last night’s kick-off function, we were told that Oct 8th was declared a “dry day” in India because it was the Mahatma Gandhi week. What does “dry day” mean – you ask? Well, it means that no alcohol is to be served or sold ANYWHERE. Implications? You invite brown people to a brown function and say that no alcohol will be served – let’s just say that it’s not good.

To top it off, some key people pull a no-show in the last second (even after a double and triple confirmation!). For the function yesterday (a henna party) we were supposed to have a bangle lady show up and distribute bangles to all the ladies in the crowd. She doesn’t show up (due to some confusion and death in her family) and my sister (the bride) warns here that there will soon be another death in the family! *lol* I think my sister is somewhere in Shivaji market right now beating down the store owners – ahhhh bridezillas!

It starts raining (and the monsoon season is supposed to be over!) and rain seeps through the roof of the house leading to a possible flooding issue (4 hours before the event). And despite all the water in the dining area, there is no water in the taps to take a shower with.

Electricity decides to pull a no show as well.

We show up at the event and realize there is no laptop for the power point presentation that we’ve prepared for Nisha and Yeyati – and the entire five start establishment Le Meridien doesn’t have a single laptop to loan us. We trudge back home to pick a laptop up to realized that we didn’t bring the house keys. Come back to the party, pick up the keys and go back home. This too in heavy, chaotic traffic! Thankfully they loved the presentation! *Kudos to Saachi (Yeyati’s brother), John (Yeyati’s bestfriend) and Uncle Mohan for pulling this off!

It’s amazing how I’m still sane to report on these…my sister believes that the wedding is jinxed *lol* This morning, to prepare my sister for the wedding we will smear her with tumeric powder that has been pre-applied by her groom Yeyati. A cousin of Yeyati’s commented on feminist lines on how unfair it was to re-use the groom’s powder for the bride, isn’t it demeaning, etc? My response – “Dude….if it makes the wedding go any faster, I’d put the damned tumeric all over myself and use it in my kitchen for cooking as well!!! Let’s get this show on the road people!”.

Hopefully I’ll be able to report on tonight’s events tomorrow morning – till then, pray for no rain (coz the wedding dinner is on the terrace with no tents!). *Sonia types this as she gazes outside her window and sees the fast approaching dark clouds, pregnant with moisture, just waiting patiently for the auspicious wedding hour to approach*

Can you please invite...so and so?

2008-09-27T19:07:00.000-07:00

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!

Indian Standard Time (IST)

2008-09-24T22:54:00.000-07:00

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!”

Another weird address...

2008-09-24T07:19:00.000-07:00

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*

Wedding Cards. We cordially invite you to...

2008-09-22T21:56:00.000-07:00

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

Letter to Mother Cow

2008-09-22T09:53:00.000-07:00

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

Indian Traffic

2008-09-21T03:33:00.000-07:00

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.

Day 2 in India

2008-09-19T21:28:00.000-07:00

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!

Day 1 in the Motherland!

2008-09-18T20:57:00.000-07:00

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!

iPhone - A love-hate relationship

2008-09-15T18:50:00.000-07:00

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

Children - The miracle of life?

2008-09-14T16:20:00.000-07:00

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*

Next Blog Inspiration

2008-09-05T23:35:00.000-07:00

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!

The Notebook

2008-09-05T23:33:00.001-07:00

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!

Did I miss the memo?

2008-09-01T21:02:00.000-07:00

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!

The next Local......

2008-08-29T16:16:00.000-07:00

Local trains of Mumbai, (also known as “Locals”) are considered to be the heart beat of Mumbai. It is said that Mumbai comes to halt only when its local trains comes to halt.

Somehow, I have often thought of my journey in life as being analogous to a very long train ride. But the entire ride doesn’t have to be on one single train, one doesn’t always know what their destination is and *most heartbreakingly* the companion who shares your berth may not necessarily take the entire trip with you.

In the last couple of years I’ve felt like I’ve switched so many trains, spent long amounts on time on platforms wondering where I’ve come from and where I am going, and looking at the person sitting next to me wondering “How far along this journey are you going to travel with me?” It used to be unsettling, but lately, it’s become an idea I’ve welcomed.

Now, instead of lamenting over a train I missed or being told by the the conductor that my ticket is expired and I need to get off, I look forward to where my journey takes me *bright eyed and bushy tailed* and tell myself that at the end of the day, no matter which train I take, I will reach my destination. It may take awhile, the ride might be uncomfortable, I may be cheated, lied to and hurt during my travels, but its all part of the growing experience.

Another idea I’ve quite grown accustomed to is the notion of “travelling light”. I’ve found it quite therapeutic over the past couple of months to give away my clothes, sell my furniture, home and dispose of things I never used (or have no use for). I know some of this I will regret (I should have kept the damn toilet brush!), but overall, I feel lighter, freer and more able to enjoy my journey knowing that I have very little too worry about losing. Someone did say “you cannot lose what you don’t have” – so there you have it!

So – where to now? I laughingly say – I don’t really know. I know life changes dramatically when you miss your last Local and have to wait on the platform for the next train. It’s happened so many times before – but this time I’m prepared (with everything but a toilet brush!). Wish me luck!

Excuse me - Are you Indian?

2008-08-27T12:00:00.000-07:00

So - today's blog is inspired by another super hilarious blog I read. It goes:

"I cant get rid of smell. it smell ever so bad. I go sleep and still smell it then dream about curry. I think it serious problem. I did everything in the kitchen and it smell worse. omg I wanna cry. I cant afford to move, since I'm ever so poor . Please if you smell of curry do house swap with me you can get familiar smelling house for free=)"

This is something us Indians totally struggle with (in addition to unwanted body hair!). It is something that cannot be avoided if you love to cook and eat Indian food at home. This is how it goes: You cook a regular indian meal (with all the six essential spices of cumin powder, coriander powder, tumeric powder, garam masala, red chilli powder and cumin seeds) and whoa! the smell of curry permeates every the very core of the home; right down to its DNA. I know it sounds funny, but no kidding! Even our clothes smell - and I have to admit (even tho I am not speaking from personal experience) it can be quite embarassing. People can tell you are brown a mile away!

Don't get me wrong - I absolutely love Indian food - but dude, I really don't want to be walking on the street and smelling like I just came off an Air India flight. Economy.

I know it used to drive my mom nuts when she'd come to visit, slave for hours at the kitchen cooking my favourite meals and I come home and go: "What does this place smell like Indian people live here?!?" And she goes "But Indian people do live here!!!" *say this with an Indian/Singaporean accent please*

I am looking for a place in my heart where I can come to peace with my curry roots - but its just so hard! Its like I want to have my curry, eat it and smell like I just walked out of Crabtree and Evelyn! Is that too much to ask for?

So my resolution? Be a closet curry eater - and no, this doesn't mean that I will eat curry in the walk-in closet! It means that I will have an extra-marital affair with curry outside the home and still maintain the olfactory stability of my home.

How long will it last? *sigh* I really don't know....One day I will come home and my clothes will smell like curry - and then my dirty little secret will be out!

Saying Goodbye

2008-08-26T09:06:00.000-07:00

Last night, Bentley and I said our final goodbyes to 108 - 6833 Village Green. It was our first home together. I still remember the day I saw the posting of this place on mls.ca and knew in my heart that this was going to be my home. 10-8 were my birthday digits (I know - How corny!). I did lose the place with my first offer to someone else but miraculously, that offer fell through and I got it!

Now, walking through the empty rooms I could not help remember the time this place was the location of mini-parties, family reunions, cook-offs and puppy play-dates. Packed with furniture, personal belongings and up to 5 people at one time, Bentley's barks made a sad echo through the emptiness.

Then I realised that this emptiness was just a doorway into new beginnings and possibilities. To move ahead effortlessly we sometimes need to leave the past behind. But before that, I want to share this quote that best describes what 108 Village Green meant to me:

"Home is a place not only of strong affections, but of entire unreserve; it is life's undress rehearsal, its backroom, its dressing room." - Harriet Beecher Stowe

Thank you Village Green for being my first home, my shelter and my haven. And also thank you for making it possible to move to my new dream home, The Harris!

On a side note - the place smells a little like an Indian restaurant (smells like curry) *lol* Good luck new buyer! *evil laugh*