Christmas 2010 And That 2 Days, Three Nights in Mr. P's Home...

Christmas 2010. I cherished the birth of Jesus Christ (we'll leave the historical arguments as to the true reason for this day, aside) in the most unlikely manner. An hour (give or take 10 minutes) drive to the home of an acquaintance (via GJ Kind Boy) tucked away a few kilometers off the beaten track. I'll let some pictures do the talking.

The road leading to this elusive location.

Palm trees. Rows and rows of them.

Yes, it was a village tucked away in the midst of a palm tree plantation. Locals would refer to them as estates (which deviates from the usual meaning it designates). The entire village had to shop for urgent needs in the only available grocery shop and every single being in that village knew each other. Walking was the most convenient way to scout the area and anything more than the basic necessities was at least a 30 minutes drive away. Tar roads were nowhere to be seen and the air was as lush and as refreshing as a cool breeze enveloping grassy mountain slopes.

The aforementioned acquaintance was an Indian guy whose family belongs to the community of people serving the plantation. An Indian Christian family whose idea of Christmas is new clothes, a clean home, relatively good food to eat and visitors to serve the food to. Their entire house covers  no more than a third of the grounds my home across the island does and a dining room/area was absent. Food was served in the living area, on the floor over place mats and 5 people were more than enough to crowd the living room if not the entire house. Rice, alongside stir fried freshwater crab (Indian style), chicken curry and some stir fried cabbages was the menu for the day. And then came the entrées; an assortments of cookies and murukkus (Indian deep fried delicacies). It was more of a Diwali vibe than Christmas if  you ask me. No Christmas trees laden with gifts, no eggnog, no fruitcake soaked in rum and definitely no roasted turkey. It was just a day to rejoice with the simple act of giving and sharing, broken down to its bare essentials.

If there was one thing I cherished Mr. P for, it was the hospitality of his family. Two years ago they welcomed me into their simple home with simple things and extraordinary love and affection. I was treated like a long lost son of their own; beds made, food on banana leaf, lovingly served and conversations that left me in  aw of this family raised with an annual income of just over MYR 12,000 (approximately USD 3,200). They lived in a small town (don't even know that it can be considered a town) which hosted one Internet cafe, a few grocery shops, one school, a mini stadium and a few thousand people that would probably sum up to a popular girls friends list on social media. I loved this warmth and slow paced living where everything was so synonymous with humility, respect and steadfast devotion to traditions. The fact that this was where the man I grew so fond of came from astounded, moved and deeply humbled me. The humbling experience was one I wish to live and re-live again and again.

Christmas 2010 for me was a reminder of that 2 days and three nights spent in Mr. P's home with Mr.P's family, living like one of his own, humbled by the honest aura of this remote location on the map that meant the world to me.

2010; That's A Wrap!!!

Half of 2009 and 2010 has been, without doubt the worst years of my entire life!!!

Having found (or maybe not) and lost (all the more) love, sitting idle for 6 months, weighing between going to work and my M.Sc. application not coming through, forgetting Mr.P and all the in between times I did sway back and forth with my feelings for him. My family in the lowest of lows, financially (especially) when my brother went and got the car literally squished like an empty can. My brother constantly gallivanting with what was already mere pittance. My mother's possessive attitude ultimately leading in my detriment and my father's indifferent coupled with his occasional patronising remarks about how I was just sitting around all day doing nothing. The entry of my brother's better half (not so better anymore) into the family shoving me into nights in the living room with mosquito bites, the dog howling and tolerating bouts of hot stifling weathers. My ever so temperamental weight loss journey; I looked smashing sometimes and I looked horrid a lot of times. My studies; so much journal reading and still being clueless with protocols. Friendships tested, suicide attempts, money wasted, worthless trips made, indigestion problems (I had to let go of spicy food and anything that gave me gas, oy, I sound like grandma Yetta from The Nanny), quitting smoking, agonising hangovers, being broke, backbreaking household chores (Diwali cleaning), etc. These two years have been the absolute worst case scenarios for me! 

But one, and probably the best thing that has happened to me so far was that revelation about God. As a child, somehow, I was inculcated with the idea that God exists and He is the most powerful thing, surpassing the Universe and representing ultimate power, omniscience, and indestructibility. I used to have visions of God at times and I even used to cry for Him, weep to see Him because I felt so attached to Him. I used to scribble, again and again, sketches of Durga and Kali and read and re-read so many tales of Gods and Goddesses. Although I didn't comprehend the gist of those books as much as I wanted to, all I knew is God is there and I wanted Him. All that ceased to grow as I grew up. All of that became just another belief, another vague possibility; nothing more than something to respect and adhere to.

Well, anyway, 2009 and 2010; I know I will not miss these two years. But they would be greatly remembered because of the clichéd learning experience one associates with mishaps. Likewise so did I; learn.

That Karma will bite you; let's leave good deeds being noticed aside, no bad deed goes unpunished.

That the 20's are not the time of your life where you should have fun; I did, and I regret.

That time passed is not so much a waste; a life passed is much more justified waste and also because everything takes time, life is transitional and those who appreciate time would also know that nothing should be done in a haste.

That the World is heading in the wrong direction; I can't believe I am saying this but yes, people are not only selfish, they are becoming promiscuous, hedonistic, ignorant and greedy. You do see an occasional few whom are praise-worthy but the lot is definitely on the verge of destructive semblances.

That bigotry is as incurable as interminable diseases are; I've began to sympathise, those whom take to it.

That desires leave room for nothing but hurt; Buddha was right.

That painless and blissful are the silent times I dwell in thoughts of God; I am praying for all the obstacles be removed so that I can concentrate on this.

That the phrase Love is God is probably the most misinterpreted phrase in the world; loving one person or a group of people is a misrepresentation of true love. Love everything, God is everything, love is everything. God IS Love.

That through dancing I can channel my energy and love for God; desiring dancing is nothing more than a way to achieve the union of the Soul and the Spirit.

2011 is a must see.

To each his own,

But also true,

That phrase renown,

The Sea is; when rivers are through.

-Hdaran 2010

Gdaran, My Brother, and Merry Christmas!!!

The brother is two timing his girl-friend.

I refuse to get involved.

We'll see how the games play out.

Merry Christmas everyone!!!

My kiss under the mistletoe will just have to wait until December 25th 2011...

For Even You HE Created

Devil,

Go away,

Please,

Let me be happy another day,

Devil,

How clever you are,

Till one stays idle,

You choose not to cross the bar,

Devil,

I pray,

To your nemesis,

Please, let me not sway,

Devil,

Your accomplices,

Ever so sneaky,

They feed on my vices,

Devil,

I thought I won you over,

But without your presence,

I don't seem to realise my true endeavour ,

Devil,

Sweet are your words,

But twisted and turned,

It all hurts,

Devil,

You come in all forms,

But you do not realise,

You do not defy universal norms,

For even you,

God created...

Devil,

So be it,

As one creation to another,

I shall see it,

Devil,

Just as adversaries,

Are kept near,

So we shall exchange pleasantries,

For you are,

 My teacher,

Devil,

One lesson learnt,

For only when you come around,

God's love is rightfully earned,

Devil,

For belittling you,

Try as might as many may,

Nothing is due,

Devil,

And the day shall come,

When the spirit loves Him just as He did this soul,

So shall this soul succumb,

His own...

His child...

His self...

All are one...

-Hdaran, 2010

Living in Motion

Fell right into a drain half a full-sized monsoon drain a couple of days ago making me literally sluggish, depriving me of jogging and strenuous physical activities. Bruises on my right knee went deep and an anti-tetanus injection made my left arm swell rendering it helpless, mercilessly helpless.

I was watching Oprah the other day about an interesting topic of how women (or men, even) are so perturbed about their weight and how they look that they keep putting on and subsequently losing pounds only to be, in the end, still unhappy about their appearance. Which got me thinking. Am I doing the right thing? Constantly obsessed about where my weight is going, and sometimes I am almost at wits end if I don't get that regular dose of endorphins. Is it all worth-while. Well, truth be told, it was, especially after you're able to fit into that pair of jeans stowed away. One that was boxed away, to be pulled out on one such miraculous event that one can finally fit into. That feeling of accomplishment is almost unsurpassed, glorious and elating. But really, it is only worth-while that particular moment. The goal of exercise and a healthy diet and all that effort shouldn't come out of self-obsession rather it should be a product of, ultimately, leading a good life. No one wants to be morbidly obese because most-often it cripples motion. Every living being on Earth besides vegetation thrive on their motility; if we(it) are(is) incapable of motion, we(it) cannot survive. Why motion? Because a task as simple as walking includes five muscle groups namely; the quadriceps, the hamstrings, the adductors, and the soleus. And for animals, motility is a question of being a predator's next meal (predator AND prey, regardless).

You can't walk to the kitchen to get a drink; well let's just say if you're a lonely morbidly obese spinster incapable of walking you're in for a slow and painful death...

For other more capable people, motion is, in many ways, living a life that is worth-living. The simplest things in life, taking a walk in the park, running to hug a loved one, playing with one's children, a swim in the pool, dancing (especially for me); all these tasks require us to be motile; the more efficient the better. Of course how one looks can be just as important to some people. But to me, for now at least, is to be able to dance topless on stage and not look revolting  (odissi male dancers usually perform without covering their upper bodies). If not a Greek-God body, at least the average odissi male dancer torso is all I ask for.

The Light is Here to Stay

Attended an odissi margam two days ago; a graduation of sorts of a student from the institution I now call my temple of bliss, my dance school and most importantly the one place I've longed to belong in. Attending such performances in a venue that oozes an ecclesiastical mood somehow drowns me of my sorrows. Not at all to appear gloomy and despondent but to bring across the point the elation of a dance enthusiast in such a befitting occasion. She, being a mother of two, completed 6 odissi pieces encompassing the various gists of the repertoire. A feat I have sowed within myself to, one fine day, accomplish...

After which followed a meet up with Cookies and Cakes and Stylish Mistress. It has been long since the three had been in each others' company and for me it was evident. Sorry Cookies and Cakes, I did not want to end the night in the mercy of silence. There were times when I wanted to leave, walk back a few tens of kilometers to where I currently live at. But I held back. I can't even seem to pen down my awkwardness of which I attribute to the fact that a grudge was borne against me. For not having informed Cookies and Cakes that the performance fell on that night, for sloshing alone on a night they were out together previously which I could've conveniently tagged along. Cookies and Cakes was at one of his irritated semblance again which really drove me up the wall. I hoped I was wrong, I am still hoping I am wrong. And it didn't help that I was too perturbed about this that I could not pay attention to what they were chattering away resulting in making a fool of myself. They too seemed to think I did. The worst of it all was when I said, according to them (and finally), something intelligent enough to laugh about. I kept to myself throughout the whole night because I felt patronised for, it seems, stating the obvious. I don't blame them, if anything I'd share their being put off for my lack of enthusiasm and insight, for and into their grounds of conversation. I was stalwart to being quiet than to be laughed at; in a rather condescending tone, I must add. I cannot relate to Stylish Mistress anymore, nor could I connect to Cookies and Cakes throughout the entire night except for the last 30 minutes or so, on our way back to my abode. Surprisingly enough, as excruciating as it sounded none of this mattered after the night ended. It became, just and yet, another humbling experience for me.

Cookies and Cakes seem to think that a series of mishap has taken over me. Changed me. That I am lost in time and space; that I have lost myself, my true self. But I am certain I haven't; it is true, I appear to no longer share sentiments towards things I used to hold dear, fashion for instance, nor am being opinionated over issues that deserve debating. According to Cookies and Cakes, I have also been socially reclusive, a statement which came as no surprise to me. Over the past few months my ideals on life has changed so drastically that I no longer want the things I used to crave for nor am sad about the things that have, inevitably, slipped away. I do not shy away from the possibility of my family being a contributing factor; my mom's ultimate possessive attitude, my brother's lack of responsibility, and my dad's interminable indifference. Then again, truth be told, it is not the whole picture; it isn't the deep-rooted reasons for my apparent dispassion. I only hope that they do not misjudge it all to be ignorance or apathy.

I am not deliriously happy neither am I morbidly depressed. I am comfortable being this under-the-radar person, satisfied with my current stance, predicament and choices. I am no more moaning the lost of love, no more jumping like a child in a candy store at Givenchy's and Marc Jacobs', no more shouting at wits end over something unfathomably glorious, no explicit immature expressions of joy or sadness. I am still that sanguine being I used to be; but the reasons for which I am, shares a whole new perspective.

I was never someone who messed up to detestable proportions (except the smoking) and it is probably why I seem like the last, and the least of any given exercise and/or experience. Nothing is to be justified about this. I was also someone who adhered, almost religiously, to societal norms if and when compared to the circle of my closest friends. Parentage and tutelage by the Priest and Priestess has made me somewhat drawn to seek acceptance and approval by whoever, whatever and however it is that I look upon, revere and deem possible. Fore mostly, my family, then my friends and finally my relatives. BUT, I have had wishes and wants, some of which I blindly pursued. I've had longings and desires, some of which I gladly succumbed to. I've also had voids and inadequacies, some of which I erroneously filled up. All this, in my course of life has led me to false pretenses, unjust reasoning and most devastatingly, sorrow until the day that light showed up. I see that light, peeking through cracks of my past. It is slowly creeping up through my feet, filling, as it goes, every dubious crevice in my life. A force is blocking me at every turn of injustice I put myself through. My feet is steadfast to willing beliefs but my actions yield unwilling bouts of painful repercussions. My ego is smashed at every turn, my thoughts humbled and my heart ever-growing to ceaselessly embrace all this unexpected mishaps.

I really have no idea how this blog entry took form but I know it was written. I am glad it was...

Escape to Fantasy: Bewitched and The Nanny

Who loves The Nanny and Bewitched, put your hands up!!! *hands shoot right up*

Image Source: http://mclimoh.blogspot.com/

Image Source: http://stantheembryo.com/?p=1659

High Priestess: Oh God, he put ready lah, that woman with the funny voice... *makes funny imitations*
Hdaran: Alah, I like lah!!!!!!! Let me watch la!!!!!! AIYO!!!!!!!!!!!
High Priestess: She, and her voice and the way she talks!!!
Madam R: He put the show already ah??? God!!!! *makes HILARIOUS imitations*
Hdaran: *keeps on watching and sings along* 'Who would have guessed that the girl we described, was just exactly what the doctor prescribed.' *dum dum dum dum* 'The flashy girl from Flushing, the nanny named FRAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!' *de dum*

My especially favourite duo is the C.C. and Niles!!! Don't we all just love them???

C.C.: Well, I think its very distasteful of Maxwell to be dating so soon. Isn't a decade the standard period for mourning?
Niles: Die and let's find out!

Bewitched oh, Bewitched. Elizabeth Montgomery is such a pleasant character. And the witchcraft and all the adabakedabra stuff just lightens up the entire plot. But then again, the most memorable characters would be hands down, Endora (Agness Moorehead), Dr. Bombay (Bernard Fox), Aunt Clara (Marion Lorne) and Gladys Kravitz (Alice Pearce and Sandra Gould; personally I preferred Alice Pearce in the role).

These are among some programs that gives me a sense of belonging. Love love love!!!

Another Quickie

Yes, it is one of those days where I have to just shout it out that I've done something. I got a 350 ml bottle of cheap liqueur; whisky called  John William. Prettty impressive a name huh?? It's MYR 13.00 a bottle if you must know. So there it goes, Hdaran isn't all that impressive as he may sound, or probably isn't at all...

I drank, #1 a bottle of cheap liqueur because I didn't have much cash at my disposal. #2, I drank because I wanted to know if I really, still, had feelings for Mr. P. Turns out, I am just lonely (definitely, because I AM typing this under 38% alcohol influence and mind you the 'Backspace' button seems like a revelation). For me, at this point, anyone will do, really, anyone brown. But then again, I stand by my approach that promiscuity is like abrasives; it does nothing than to deepen that void of missing hugs and kisses.

And I also stand by my point that judgement is only God-worthy. No one single man (unless he's been truly God-enlightened) can judge another. NO ONE!!! Which is why I write about this shallow endeavour of mine freely and honestly (man, self incrimination; I just judged myself!!!).

I really do miss the warmth of blood and flesh (please, not literally) pressed against mine. The feeling of belonging it provides and the true lust-less truth it is most often, all about. More than the satisfaction it provides, the truth about this is that it is nothing more than Maya (from my reading about Holy-Men and enlightenment of God). At nadir (at least almost), I have discovered that I have been put in circumstantial adversity to be-rid of my lust, anger and emotional turbulence. I have also been through zenith (again, just close to) and I can safely say it is nothing less than The Truth...

Man, even I am bored of my preaching!!!

A Quickie

2 nights ago, I decided to spend some money I had leftover to get drunk (well, if not drunk, at least alcohol to a happy level) and so I did (sorry Cookies and Cakes!!!!! *puppy dog face*). After a couple of beers and a light head I came back home to find my cousin who was off to Colonial Territory the next day at my place. He invited me to indulge in some more sloshing (all paid for of course). So we did.

Well, by that time I was missing one person and my dear blog followers you would've already guessed who.

So I impulsively sent him a message.

Hdaran to Mr. P: I will love you and no one else. That thing I did with you was with you and no one else.

Shit, of all the times I have been foolish this was by far on the top of the list! Alcohol, DAMN!!!! I should've stuck to being sober.
So I spent half a day regretting that foolish act and I decided to send him a message rectifying the situation;

Hdaran: I wrongly sent the message last night.
Mr. P: I need help from you.
Hdaran: No I CANNOT help you.
Mr. P: Please la.
Hdaran: What?
Mr. P: I got KPLI interview.
Hdaran: So?
Mr. P: I need to answer 3 questions. And write...... (don't quite remember details because I erased those messages)
Hdaran: Why are you asking me??
Mr. P: I got no one else.
Hdaran: You are asking me only because I can do the best for you. Why don't you ask Alcohol Pre-Presentation, he's already doing KPLI. He can help you better than I can. Or why don't you ask Confused Gal's sister, your friend what! Or Confused Gal, or any other juniors. Ask them!!! I cannot help you.
Mr. P: Ok thanks a lot.

Now, you would wonder why Confused Gal's sister came into the picture. Mr. P and she had an interesting affair they called friendship. BULLSHIT!!! Yes, an Indian girl of her mentality and an Indian guy with Mr. P's shallow and deprived mind would sit side by side each other, while she allows him to run his hand up and down her hair and caress her thighs. Yes, yes, friendship... MY ASS!!! I was there watching all this.  To describe jealousy in a graphic manner would be like to receive a huge blow on your stomach that turns your guts inside out and creates mayhem in your stomach until you feel like throwing up!!! Boy, God forbid me to ever feel that again. And Mr. P had the audacity to send me down to go and get some drinks for the both of them while they continued smooching. I'd take HELL any day as opposed to those feelings. The person whom actually helped Mr. P with the RM 3500.00 for his fees payment was this person, so you'd imagine how I really felt for her.

Anyways, this quickie was not because I wanted to bitch about Confused Gal's sister; it was to finally tell myself that I am be-ridden of Mr. P!!! I have never refused  him flatly before... And finally the guts came around to do it... finally.....

This Cannot Go On

*snigger*

The last I wrote about something I thought of as part of my life's happenings; November the 24th. Funny, how much a couple of weeks can do to a person. This goes to say that I have indeed come to realise something. If ever and whenever one stops pondering on the needless, needless to say it stops pounding him/her. Much like mere fidgeting of the nails and untangling of the knots in the hair when there is much to look upon, mull over and straighten out.

Lamenting over ghastly tales of mishaps and drowning over sweet serenading notes of a swirling cup of hot chocolate may seem all nasty for the former and all enchanting for the latter. True, the simplest of things like bittersweet memories and the simplicity of a beverage brewed with love is more bewitching than a pile of documents to tend to. Ever wondered what may have got the famous and the powerful through and thorough with benediction of their success??? Was it the doing of acquiring blessings or the act of making the obvious manifest??? Or does the both work hand-in-hand???

What is it; the reason behind such an excruciating semblance??? A weak will? A comfortable disposition in bemoaning? A willing soul to carry out a bidding? A cornered, wishful thinking that it may all see the end of the road? A show to exert one's tenacity? What is this all about???

What is our purpose on Earth???

Belittling anything less? Beholding the marvel of those anymore than thyself?
Justify being hedonistic? Judge those who are?
Desire the desired? Hate the hated?
Help the poor and the needy? Scorn the worthless and the greedy?
Work for the wants? Settle for the deeds?
Talk when talked about? Silent when unknown about?
Please oneself with applaud? Shy away when discerned?
Believe only the lucid? Doubt all the inconspicuous?
Luck? Effort?
Faith? Ambiguity?

Rhetorics can only do so much to stating purpose. The rest and above all, the infallible, is experience... Not in the manner of being wise and heavy wisdom. But in the manner of sensation.

What we see, hear, touch, smell, and taste is never enough. What we feel is always dubious. Everything is fragile and vulnerable. Its all Mahamaya.

Its raining, I can't jog. This cannot go on. The fats are piling...

I Wish I Was 5 Again...

I miss being a child... How much worries did we have being young??? All that needed pondering over was homework and school exams and society meetings and our parents' constant nudging on our studies...

I wish I was a child again;

To not know how much money meant;
To not care about what adults spoke about;
To not understand why two people in love stick together so often;
To not love anyone more than my parents;
To not worry about how much bank balance is left;
To not think about future plans;
To not comprehend why one should be politically correct;
To not have a myriad of responsibilities except being nice and bright;
To not have felt the severity of a broken heart;
To not mind being shallow minded;
To be just a child; innocence in its all...

Sometimes I wish I had never grown up...

How I wish...

...

Although things are moving along well, dancing, my studies, my family, my friends etc. there is one thing I still can't seem to shake off...

I still miss him very much...

How long is it going to take for closure???

Can't I forget him already???

PS: I received another "I miss u a lot" text message from him a few days back...

Where Do I Start?

Boy, where do I start?

Four yellow people were seated in a Nasi Kandar shop enjoying a meal and chatting away, pretty happily... Seated a few tables down the aisle was me, GJ Kind Boy and Funny Architect (refer to 'The Characters on Optimistic Always'). And suddenly we hear glass shattering. I turn around and lo and behold, in full blown violence, one yellow person was hitting another yellow person, repeatedly on his head. Not to mention being shouted at. Although I do comprehend basic conversational Mandarin and to a certain extent the popular dialect here a.k.a Hokkien, I was too perturbed to comprehend what the bickering was about. Too perturbed with the fact that the sound was caused by a glass mug flung towards a wall (one is guessing the perpetrator meant it for the other yellow person whom caused his wrath).  I turned around to my companions.

Hdaran          : Bro, I was just complaining that I had nothing to blog about. 
GJ Kind Boy : That's why bro. Full blown drama for you to blog about.

I always thought we, brown people, were the ones that usually caused the drama.

Funny Architect : Thank God not Indian people.
Hdaran              : We different bro. We usually find a secluded spot, make appointments and then only engage.

*laughs*

First of all, I ain't no racist, for if I had been, my best fren Cookies and Cakes would have been obligated to present similar genetic phenotypes before one would call him his best friend (Cookies and Cakes is yellow. And the terms yellow and brown should never be mis-concluded as a way of portraying ethnicity in an explicit manner; its just for fun.) Nor do I judge because I have seen Mr. P throw such tantrums in public. I was just shocked, I mean who wouldn't be? More baffling was the fact that anger can be that mismanaged. Can anger really surpass humiliation??? I haven't and I wouldn't allow it!!! Seriously!!!

On another thought, losing your directions on the road; it happens to all of us doesn't it??? Cookies and Cakes swears that I am almost direction-blind. I evoke his frustration all the time;

*phone call while driving* (I HAVE HANDS-FREE!!!)

Hdaran: Hey my walking, talking, breathing island GPS. I need some directions. I am at *** and I need to get to ***. How uh??? 
CnC: Adekadavule!!! Enna Hdaran??? (yes, yes, he's only yellow by skin, in fact he's too yellow that he proclaims to be a jaundiced yellow-man; he swears his liver has been genetically mutated to form those like the browns) This one also don't know ah??? Aiyo!!! Ok go straight on and you'll see..............

And so, before the former incident (the yellow men drama at the nasi kandar shop), I was driving around to see if i could remember High-Achieving Babe's residence; even managed to find it when one's adventurous mode lead him halfway across the other side of the island. The secluded part of the island where Digi, Celcom, Maxis, i Talk, u Talk, everyone Talk was obsolete. The amount of profanities I uttered, if anyone heard me, they would've sworn I was faking orgasm. But all that is well ends well. Thank God the driving was bound to a small island!!!

So, for the exciting news (I meant exciting in a happier tone not one that involves humour). Gunghroos, like I have gone on about, is something that I am yet to invest in. Proper gunghroos cost up to RM70, which may not seem much, but proper gunghroos do not cost that much in India. I was thinking of saving up until the time came when it was indeed a necessity. This friend of mine, Papilio Mamacita, however, is going on a trip to Rangoli Land and has promised to get me a pair!!!!!!!!!!!!! I was ecstatic!!!!!!! I did promise to help her sister with her future plans to re-pursue dancing; it was the least I could do.

I AM GETTING GUNGHROOS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FROM INDIA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Image Source: http://www.jas-musicals.com/newsite/indian_musical_instruments_detail.asp?pid=593

And to top the good news off, Miss Sincere Inadequacy pulls off yet another generous doing. Upon knowing that I would've loved to own a camera asked me to keep the camera she intended to sell off. A Kodak Easyshare C613, it meant so much to me. I hope, if she's reading this, that I truly treasure her friendship. Not because she's been giving me all these material things (I received a Seed tote as a birthday gift, thanks to her...), its because she makes it seem effortless, like the giving was so ingenuous, sincere, like she is...

God, thanks for filling these material voids in the form of ever-hospitable friends. Whether it is meant to teach me a lesson or to plainly, make me devoid of material greed, I shall thank You always... I love You God. Thank You for watching over me. I shall be One with You in due time......

Society = (n) Individuals

I am surprised

#1 I never expected to revive it
#2 I never expected it to last
#3 I never expected to be wanting to do this after all that's already been done

My blog, it was at death's bed when I logged on early this year. But I pumped some colour, nursed it with some editing and started bringing it back to life with some writing; better organised ones. And voila!!! It is just the way I like it now...

I was 'blog hopping' (a term relatively new to me; a newborn to this whole blogging scenario) to find possible 'brown' (Indian) people whom owned one similar to mine from the same country (excuse me; not being a racist, just trying to find some similar grounds). Some hidden gem, somewhere, whose writing skills would blow my mind off (note: should never be concluded that I am blowing my own trumpet). I found out that Malaysian Indian bloggers predominantly blog about two things, socio-political issues and photography. And I must say, from their view-points some share very biased conclusions about many socio-political turbulences in the country. I (in my own opinion-after enough reading) can safely conclude that very little have the predisposition to properly convey the actual scenario we face in this country without bias.

Many forget that individuality counts in a society.
Many pre-conclude that people can be worked as a whole; mindsets changed with mere sharing/discussing/scrutiny of the issues.
Many fail to acknowledge their own shortcomings.
Most try to fight their points across blindly.

I just wish that these people, whom try too hard, take a walk into their own minds. Delve into their own negativity, search for answers within themselves. No one person/association/party/leader can change mindsets or vehemently coerce the society into religiously following suit in their footsteps (bad or good). Change should start from an individual because we can definitely and indefinitely influence people around us to follow suit in our beliefs IF we stick to them and graciously present its positive outcomes. After all, society IS made up of individuals. Its all the rule of the six degrees of separation; one changed person leads to another. The whole chain reaction, much like those of various MLM marketing strategies (wow, for once I see that it might have some use).

It is not a matter of who's right or wrong, nor is it a matter of debating difference in opinion. Whatever opinion is it that one shares, an action must follow suit therein proving the feasibility of the notion in question. It is not just about making yourself heard because speech, more often than not, falls upon deaf ears.

Actions speak louder than words.
The wise man fully understood empty talk.
He fully comprehended the power of doing.

How Dancing Was Upon Hdaran...

My first odissi class... Back-breaking!!! And this was the beginner's class, mind you!!! But what a pleasure it was!!! I am finally a student of one of the leading dance schools in Malaysia, learning one of the oldest Indian classical dance form properly. It was a lifelong dream (even I am getting bored of repeating this, just a minute, I AM NOT!!!!!!!!!!!). I was supposed to have enrolled in a dance school when I was 5, I think, and for some reason, my parents did not make it happen. Why didn't I throw a tantrum??? Wait stupid question, I was too much of a crowd-pleaser back then.

My entire life, I've had a passion for dance and for 19 years that passion never found its home.

Upon finishing my final public examination, I was determined to diverge from the science field but just as Cookies and Cakes mercilessly opened his big mouth, so I ended up doing my degree in biotechnology. But pursuing my degree didn't entirely shut away my passions (fashion studies saw its temporary-I hope-demise); dance, fell upon me.

So happened that all Indian students that subject themselves to the orientation (which meant being bullied -not physically though- by their seniors); are also subject to a competition organised by the Hindu Society of the former university in the first semester of every term. 12 residential colleges from the university sends their representatives to participate in various events. This competition posed a series of events that add up to a Champion Cup, one very much revered upon possession.

After about three weeks as a freshman, practice began as part of preparing us for the upcoming competition. Cutting the chase, after several considerations, I was switched from being the representative for the Malay public speaking match up, to the troupe that participated in the Indian traditional dance showdown. Reason; a senior of mine from the troupe met with an accident. That was my first ever debut on stage. I was probably the only junior in my entire batch of students that had fun during practice and while competing; everyone else went through sleepless night, torturous sessions of practice and excruciating criticism from our seniors for an entire week prior to the competition. I was a natural at dance and boy did I excel. After that event, my batch of Indian students knew me, the dancer, Hdaran, who rocked the stage.

The next three years and half years, things only got bigger and better and I was dancing endlessly, almost every other month if not every other week. Sometimes, performances were as frequent as three days in a row on various occasions for various events; on TV, in front of audiences thousands strong and on a few instances, tens of thousands strong. Every Indian in my university during the four years I was there knew Hdaran, and knew me as a dancer. What a sense of belonging that was; not because I was popular, more because I was known as a dancer.

Graduating put an end to it, however, my flame did not die out... After countless attempts which brought about disappointments after disappointments, I AM finally where I belong, in one of the finest Indian classical dance schools in the country, learning the oldest form of Indian classical dance.

*goosebumps*

Saturday, come already!!!

Bigotry, heard of it, however the term was never fully comprehended until the one moment called for the need to do so. How I wished I stumbled upon it earlier, this one word sums up many "all-knowing"s around me (yes, I used it as a noun). Reality check; you ain't God!!!

Talking about bigotry, how could one drink wine out of a mug (I am sorry but this had to be done; hate me or love me for it!!!). A 2000 Merlot!!! Mr Wink N U'll Know, preposterous!!! Cookies and Cakes claimed it was blasphemous!!! Comparing it to smearing a religious affair!!! Enough said, enough done... Reflect on it!!!

Come Saturday it all begins!!! My lifelong dream, dance, Indian classical dance!!! Odissi, my love, my passion. God knows this has been above all my most desperate yearning!!! I am more than just waiting, my heart longs for it like a parched desert traveler.

Lets See Come 9th November 2011

"If you love somebody let them go. If they come back, shoot them. If they do not, load your gun, find them and shoot them"

One of my retweets. Maybe I should do the same with Mr. P because even after so much of running away he manages to come around to haunt me. 

*sms beeps*

Miss u a lot. God bles u. Tc.

The adrenaline rush into my blood was so prevalent that I could literally hear my heart beat. 

Just when I decided to retire early to bed. The one night when I finally decided on a light early morning jog. 

Looked at the message three times and then...

*option*

*delete*

*paused for a few seconds*

*click*

All done. But alas, snoozing seemed impossible; those annoying words kept on forming in my head over an over again!!! Every time the body relaxes and the mind finally starts drifting away, the words keep popping up. A revelation it would be, to install a pop-up blocker into human brains.

Metro Me gave me the "Metro Me Recipe to Get Over Someone":

#1 Do not keep any contact for 12 months.

#2 Do not speak about him for 12 months.

#3 Do not FB status him for 12 months.

#4 Keep his thoughts to yourself for 12 months.

#5 If people ask say you're over him and do not want to hear about him; for 12 months.

#6 To close friends you may personally express your feelings.

Sounds like a plan. Lets see, 9th November 2010... Let's see what happens come 9th November 2011.

I am in LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ARRRGGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I just discovered a Telugu movie actor that is smoking hot... I mean, absolutely drool-worthy!!!!!!!!! (sorry if anyone begs to differ) But yes, I AM IN LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oooooooooohhhhhh........... *Puts hands on the head*

*melts*

GRRRRRRRRR.........*faints*

Diwali 2010; Night

Until 5pm on Diwali I was devoid of my identity in black and white. Mom found it amidst her belongings in her room. More than the fact that I was barred from enjoying the festivities, I was restless because of the myriad of complaints, formalities and hassles it presents. The notion 'when you stop looking what you find eventually comes to you' has always been true in my life. Leave the wallet aside, almost everything else, love, friendships, acquaintances, name it... I find them only when I don't look for it....

Just as I was about to relax and enjoy what was remaining of the day, I got a call from a junior from my former university. Alcohol Pre-Presentation rang me up because he was back in Peaceful Suburb for Diwali. He was also part of the Indian gang I spent my undergraduate days with. So Alcohol Pre-Presentation tells me that he wants to meet up and I agreed. Tagging along was supposed to be Mr. Fuck A-Lot (Mr Fuck A Lot and Alcohol Pre-Presentation were acquainted even before they were undergraduates). Unsuspectingly, I drove out from my granny's place to the snooker center we were supposed to gather. As I was approaching the vicinity I spot Alcohol Pre-Presentation standing beside the road looking out for a familiar maroon coloured Wira to park. Lo and behold, my worst nightmares manifested into that one scene. Mr P's maroon Wira. That sneaky asshole!!! Alcohol Pre-Presentation and Mr. Fuck A Lot apparently and very conveniently left out the fact that Mr. P was driving them to meet me!!! WTF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It didn't take more than a second for me to drive straight on... I gave all three a rain-check via text message and drove around... Calls after calls started pouring in... And three replies... I ended further communication with a reply to each one of them and ignored their calls... It took every ounce of will-power in me to avoid the very place they were stationed at but I did drop by to see his car and give a kiss goodbye to it...

Diwali 2010, will stick around in my memory for a very long time...

Diwali 2010

Diwali opened with a bang!!!

I misplaced my wallet...

I hope it comes running back to me...

I'll give it a another 24 hours and then its to the men in hideous blue...

HAPPY DIWALI HDARAN!!!

Through adversity comes various learning experiences...

I should be glad this is yet another one of those moments....

Untimely but a lesson learnt nevertheless...

The Luxuries Of Being In Love: I Am Clueless

There isn't really an account of what Mr. P and I had behind closed doors. It started out as a mere senior-junior attachment. I don't know why but vividly etched into my mind are the first words we uttered to each other.

Hdaran: Kaale enna achi??? (What happened to your leg??? - he was suffering some sport injury)
Mr. P: Panthe velade mothe adi patterichi... (i hurt myself during a football match)
Hdaran: Aperum KS??? (How bout KS then??? -  KS is a football competition that Indians in the university I am formerly from, take very seriously)
Mr. P: Buta dot com tha. (Its blind dot com - A very Malaysian Indian way of saying 'its going to be a waste')
*walks into his room*

Mr. P NEVER appeared to be the good looking one of his batch-mates to me initially. I always found other guys in his group of boys attractive. He was not my 'type';

Too small sized (the body; yes, only the body frame).
Lacking facial hair (I loooooooove goatees and French beards on men).
Facial features too sharp.
Bad command of the English language. Wait, wait, no command over the English language.
Fashion blind (although I must say, my preferences in style may have brushed off him in recent times).

I never made approaches to get closer to him whatsoever. I've made up, in my subconscious, an unlisted, unspoken, untold rule about keeping my socio-romantic endeavours with outsiders only. I wouldn't mind if he was a graduate from the same university as long as the student-university bond was past tense; broken so to speak.

He, however, did. And that's how we became closer.

I sometimes look back at my love affairs and wonder. So far, I have never had passionate, warm, lovey-dovey moments with someone I truly loved.

Mr I Think I Am Too Good to Be True: I had one, just ONE friendly hug from him. The closest I've ever  physically got to him.

Godbro: We've laid on bed side by side on bed but nothing more....

Mr. P: The sexual encounters aside, it was only once he lied on me, both of us naked, his head cradled by my neck in each others' arms. (I was in heaven; that particular moment was like...............)

About our sexual encounters (Mr.P and myself);

It was mostly oral; I performed he received. Twice it came to almost anal, I turned him down the first time and the second time we were too drunk. He has never kissed me. He has never hugged me, cuddled me, slept side by side in bed with me (although once when I did accidentally fall asleep next to him, he kept putting his leg on me several times before I realised he was spotting an erection that led to another blowjob session). NEVER told me he loved me (once he said it on YM, ON YAHOO MESSENGER!!! I doubt that counts). I have never had a long proper conversation with him, just the two of us that was romantic. Most of the time, when its time for bed, those conversations were actually multi-tasked; massages for him. Romance-like conversations mostly led to his ejaculation unless of course we are interrupted (yes, that has happened, not in the act though). There were times, during exams, I used to help him with his studying and memorizing WHILE giving him a massage. And even if we did have long proper conversations with him, it was always ABOUT him. Yes, we did have countless proper conversations.

No, I thought to myself, I have never been truly, deservingly in love. No jolts after jolts of pure joy in my heart because I was cuddled up with the person I love, or an eye-to-eye moment where that person I love, says it, fully fueled with hormones; I love you. Never have I kissed the person I love with reciprocation nor have I had him lay on my shoulders just because he liked the comfort it provides. Never have I had arms around me from the back from the person I love with his warm breath down my naked shoulders nor have I had a peck from him in the morning when he wakes up to see me lying down beside him; his most precious belonging.

I know how it is like being truly in love but the luxury that it presents is an unexplored world of Tinsel Town to me; a toddler, pertinently. It is daunting that I am yet to properly say to a person fully comprehending its meaning and impact; "I Love You" or "Get Out of My Life" primarily because I am yet to be in a relationship and yet to stray out of one. Grey shades; doesn't get more grey than this to me.

Try as I've might, I just can't seem to feel the same way I used to feel. Like I am out there again, looking for love, like 'it' can ever happen again.

I still see him in everything...

My brother and his gf, my parents, alcohol, cigarettes, speaking Tamil, speaking English (because he was so bad at it), the word 'Love', the word 'Hate', every motorcycle, every maroon Wira, every vehicle registration plate that resembles his phone number or his motorcycle or car number, the Indian bazaars, dancing, makeup, my Facebook page, my hostel, my hostel room, any nasi kandar eatery, any Indian food outlet, KFC, dance clubs, baseball caps, football, some of my clothes, watching TV, computer games (whenever I spot people playing them), and on and on....

I seem to always, constantly and unknowingly, relate everything to him... Even God because his name also means God.

They say time heals everything... However, I am very vague about the dosage and its credibility...

PS: It is said when you involuntarily cough (because some fluid in you throat has gone in the wrong direction) someone is thinking of you very deeply. Superstition I know. Funny, every time that happens to me I think of one person whom might be thinking of me. Even as I typed the last sentence of this entry before post-script, it happened and one guess which face flashed upon my mind.

Once Upon a Starry Night Sky

My blog never started as something to write to show off to the world. Hence the being anonymous (except to some people); evidence to my previous statement. But I must admit, after looking at my statistics I became a little, if not entirely, conscious about how I write and what I chose to write. The advantage of being anonymous presented me with options that Cookies and Cakes helped me see, over and over again, tirelessly.

#1 You write for yourself and yourself only.

#2 Anonymity means even if people want to judge you, you do not have to worry... Your perception about yourself is above all others (something that always came in handy, in my day-to-day life, when restlessness of passed judgments come along).

#3 Write from your heart. A personal blog is like an online diary. Treat it like so. Pour your heart out, otherwise honesty is deprived. Besides, mistakes are what makes you, you and hey, forget impressing people, be satisfied with what YOU make of it first.

So, even though I check out my stats, day after day, its nothing more than for a bit of fun... I even realised that my blog description was missing the "R" from the word "YOURSELF" but I told myself, let it be, until there comes a time when the picture needs replacing at least.

I was walking to 7-E like I always loved to and two things intrigued me;

#1 A man was wearing a helmet whilst driving his car...

#2 I looked up and saw the sky full of stars... The starry night sky reminded me of one incident.

          Once, upon a campus varsity, a residential college was having a fire drill. Three male students were out whiling their time away, walking around in a nearby lake garden out of the campus vicinity. Empty chats and aimless walking were their means of a therapeutic night. One of the three would have begged to differ but he was just happy the man he loved was there right beside him. Not realising a fire drill was ongoing they made their way back to campus only for a call from a fellow varsity-mate informing them of the situation. So these three friends drove to the hilly area of the campus and decided to just settle down there until it was worth returning (fire drills in the hostels were always excruciatingly boring and not to mention a complete waste of time; if there's a fire most of the students already know where to run!!!). Along the road where they rested their bottoms on, two of them were getting tired of just sitting around. One of the two decided to seek solace on the laps of the third friend. The latter, would be more familiarly known as Mr. P and the third friend was Hdaran. Soon enough, the remaining  individual (let's call him Life-Sized Comfort), rested his head too on Hdaran's lap. Hdaran was happy, it was one of the best moments of his life. Life-Sized Comfort was like Hdaran's own life-sized teddy bear. Sleeps with him in the same bed, adores Hdaran, has petty but very exhilarating arguments with Hdaran and tells Hdaran everything. Hdaran in turn was so attached to Life-Sized Comfort that his company was so immensely enjoyed (Hdaran always thought that if Mr. P had not made entry into his life, Life-Sized Comfort would have been the next best thing; better of the bad at least). At this moment, Hdaran looked up and saw a glorious starry night sky.....

Dancing...Again...

I am going to be dancing on stage again...

After almost two years of halt I am going to finally hit the limelight again...

Funny, I thought I would be excited but as days draw closer, I am getting nervous...

I guess because its been so long, I may have forgotten how to enjoy all that attention...

But nevertheless one shall do his best..

And enjoy prepping up with stage makeup, a colourful costume and a larger-than-life smile...

It has been truly a long wait and I am all the more thankful that I can finally step up to do the thing I enjoy doing most...

Granny Mayhem

Took the maternal grandmother out today for what was supposed to have been done a few days ago. She wanted to re-visit the temple my dad arranged prayers for just over a week ago. Definitely nothing strange about that. But her reasoning is probably why this post has taken form.

During the aforementioned prayers, both the grandmothers were present. And apparently Mdm K (paternal) told Mdm R (maternal) that there was a shrine for the "Datuk", the Chinese demi-God, quaint mini-shrines of which, bejewel every possible corner around small streets on mainland Penang. And a similar shrine stood right outside this particular Hindu temple. Before I move on, Mdm R is a very insecure person whose emotions get stirred at the slightest of unforeseen troubles. Troubles can mean as simple as my mom catching a cold (which happened a few hours ago). According to Mdm R, she has been having sleepless nights because she failed to acknowledge the "Datuk" and because she was perturbed of something she saw while she was washing her feet.

*eyebrows raised*

This wasn't the first episode; with me, this was the third (and God knows how many more such episodes with others, her son and my elder cousin brother, for instance). I can only imagine their agitation. Mdm R can be quite a handful when she's in this mode of hers. 

Episode #1

Mdm R and her 2nd daugther (naturally, my aunt) wanted to attend a wedding reception held in Peaceful Suburb. My aunt didn't know the route and so employed my knowledge of the location to fulfill her doings. Mdm R came, or rather tagged along (she is also known to be fiercely loyal to the extended, extended family; the second ring of relatives after the immediate uncles, aunts, cousins etc. where keeping in touch was concerned). A few days after that occasion she called me up (I am gathering every inch of self-restrain to avoid cursing her daughter-another aunt of mine- whom bought her her first cell phone) and says that she had an appointment with the dentist. I, unsuspectingly drove her out assuming that a boring day was in store. But, alas, she told me, only when we were safely away from the Taman we live in, that she came out under false pretenses. And that is how I got to know the dark side of Mdm R. I drove her, not knowing how to turn her down and completely clueless as to why the journey to Peaceful Suburb was even necessary. As we drew closer to the border of the two states, she reveals that it was her intention to see the hall where the wedding reception was held. Get this; the woman gets out of the car, walks to the entrance, caresses the door and the doorknobs of the hall entrance, rubs her feet (with her sandals on of course) on the carpeting leading away from the entrance looks around, caresses the door and doorknobs several times more and then declares that she is ready to leave. Wait, there's more, at least 500 metres off the premises, she begs me to drive her back only to do the exact thing again!!! 

Episode #2

During the Fire-walking Ceremony of the famed temple of the district, a chariot procession takes place as the end of the day draws near. Mdm R was present at the customary, waiting-for-the-chariot, which arrives at several pit-stops where devotees hold offerings in the form of fruits (bananas and a coconut are a must). The chariot hoists the stone image of Mariamman, a Goddess that is revered by the Hindus that live in the district. Post ceremony, Mdm R gives me a call. This time a branch from a tree where we stood waiting, apparently, brushed off her head, it seems. Mdm R goes on about how she is having another bout of sleepless nights and has a dying urge to see, touch, and yes, why not, caress the tree, its leaves and its branches. So yes, I oblige. And heck yeah, she makes me drive back to the spot not once but twice to do the same thing and this time around forces me to do the same. Good Lord, I just told God, if its one thing You do its not to have anyone that can recognise me drive through that street. It didn't help that it was a busy street and parking was only available across the street from the crime scene. Guiding and old lady across the street isn't as easy at it looks. 

Episode #3

And this one comes with a date, October 21st, 2010. Yes, only yesterday. The story continues from the 2nd paragraph. Upon reaching the temple, she walks straight to the cubicle-like space where two PVC pipes are installed to enable devotees to wash their feet prior to entering the temple; a customary practice of cleansing 

the body of negative energies. Mdm R washes her hands repeatedly as she caressed both the pipes like she was actually worshiping it, touching the pipes and subsequently touching her head!!! The weird actions I can take but her words took the disconcerting feelings in me to a whole new level;

*in Tamil*

Mdm R: You see, this is what is called "gila" (mad in Bahasa Malaysia)!!! Aiyooooo, I am "gila" already!!!! (repeats this several times)

Luckily this time round, the second round of the weird happenings took place before we drove away from the temple premises. Just as we were walking towards the car she pauses;

*in Tamil*

Mdm R: Waitlah aiya (affectionate way of calling a guy *sweats*), I wanna wash my hands one more time. *scurries off to the pipes*

I have never resented doing these favours for her. If for any reason, it is probably because I kind of understand her worries. She's ageing, almost at death's grasp. Surely, if one is longing for something, he/she would like to see/touch/feel/experience it for one last time before his/her demise. I guess that's all she wants to do. Probably a fear has crept in her that she may never wake up the next day. Do any of us ever know, that we WOULD wake up the next day??? Any day could be our last...

They Lived With God

Started reading yet another book about spirituality and Holy-men...

Image source:
http://www.vedantastl.org/Catalog/book/They_Lived_With_God.htm

Again, the book was presented to me by mom, like Autobiography of A Yogi. I still share the same sentiments, never was a fan of autobiographies and never liked the choice of books my mom chose to read. And yet, all the more, my mom dumbfounded me... This was another captivating read about the lives of the devotees of Sri Ramakrishna. I still remember at least a decade ago, when I was given a colourfully illustrated book about the same evangelist, I was dumbstruck by the work of God. The book, among many others, alongside many childhood experiences planted the love of God into my heart. Over the years things changed, and I as reached adulthood, I was thrown into a sea of doubt and turbulence, maya, the dualistic nature of Earthly desires and devils.

The autobiography was almost God-given; He realised, I'm guessing, that He wanted me back, and so tuned me to receive this parcel of bliss-digger. It also came at a time I was so desperate for answers. I was stunned and started to realise that my love of God - that I used to hold so dear when I was a child - had almost vapourised. Reading the autobiography was like rekindling my love for The Creator and in succession was this next gift of stories about people who lived by the Ultimatum. I shall never turn back, except to fulfill my worldly duties to my parents and the people around me. And try, I shall, to culminate spirituality into the minds of my most beloved and strangers alike.

If a person wants God, God takes everything away from him. And if that person continues to love Him. God becomes his slave.

-They Lived With God

Presenting, The Dirty Laundry of Hdaran's Extended Paternal Family

An aunt who has been disowned by the extended family recently got in touch with me through Facebook. I was told of the existence of 'another' Attai (aunt in Tamil) when I was 15. Apparently she had run away and got married to the love of her life. I am sure there is more to this tale but one shall not delve further until the time comes for someone to step up and reveal the truths. Dad's younger sister she was and the love of her life was of a different religion.

*shakes head*

These are the times that I would've loved to be straight just to see how they would react if at all my future wife is Christian. Well, at least the reaction of my paternal extended family that is (my mom's eldest sister got married to a Christian and she wasn't put through atrocity like the former was). Apologised, she has, and it seems, to no avail.  I trust, judging from the lights of my extended paternal family, that her decision in pursuit of love could've very well been the best decision of her life!!! Being in this family would've done nothing but box her mind into this tight space where everything she's subject to are mere preconceived, premature notions about the world, with no way out; confined to stereotyping and loud unnecessary wailing, confrontations and a myriad of disposable, totally uncalled for drama!!! I see it in all my father's siblings.

Aunt #1: The eldest but yet, with all the reading she has been doing and all the so-called wisdom-talking she does, she was/is/will be, to me, one of the most judgmental people I've ever come across. Her family is a wretched one. Eldest daughter was married off to a person of the sub-species of the homo sapiens; a lower sub-species that is. The ones who live for being nothing but solely a burden to mother Earth; homo attero (waste for Latin). Being a tad bit judgmental myself, I suppose. Then again, would you respect anyone whom in all the times you've met is steadfast to alcohol, or a cigarette or sometimes both??? AND is known to NOT have a secure job??? Her second child, a son, got attached to a woman whom two timed him. And her youngest, well, she has been the proper one so far but she alongside with her elder sister is obese, and if I might say so morbidly. Besides the disproportion, she is so full of herself (again being a tad bit judgmental, but I am also a self-confessed fashion critic and this woman fills her wardrobe with all the things a plus-sized women should never).

Uncle: Dad's only brother and the 3rd child of the family. Married to a woman whom has been rumoured to be unbelievably lazy. I only address the woman out of respect and keep my conversations with her short, concise and time-worthy. My uncle, like the 1st aunt, has 3 children. A dropout from Police Camp who has been wasting his life spending time wooing women (plural; i daresay), binging and sleeping at home. Another classic case of the low life sub-species. The second son, has been job hopping all this while, earning meager dough that I am sure does not suffice for him to feed himself, what more give the family. The youngest, is no better, and like my former cousin sisters, she is breaching onto an array of fat-related interminable diseases. My poor uncle, the sole breadwinner of the family, is still working to make ends meet with the entire household still living off him. Over 50, he needs a break, which in my opinion is vast distances apart from materialising.

Aunt #2: Converted to Christianity a few years ago. No judgments against this. Its a free country for God's sake. But I've seen with my very eyes the very staunch believer in Hindu 'witch-doctors' and priests with supernatural solutions to her problems, pinning garlands of lime to please the Gods (demi-Gods, that is). A very distorted ideology of she had, of Hinduism and I would never blame her except in the circumstances that she was raised in (its a miracle my dad isn't anything like such although he has his fair share of being judgmental, primarily to people like me; LGBTs). Her son is missing in action from the household and she has been somewhat sidelined by her mother because of her recent endeavour. A judgmental person herself, this aunt of mine used to throw sharp words at things I never understood to be wrong-doing when I was a child. For instance, helping out in the kitchen. Her husband used to do the same, teasing me because I was not a boy, rather a coward timid sissy. They seem to have had their testing times which I've come to know to be rather dire. What karma does; beware!!!

Aunt #3: The aunt living away from the rest, in Land of The Machas. She is a stalwart believer in the supernatural which always annoys me because of her lack in background reading of spirituality. Always coming up with false conclusions of religion and religious practices, she has a way of making people believe her through conviction in speech and wondrous facial portrayals. Three daughters she has and although they seemed to take on their mother, the elder one has mellowed down to actually seeking advice. The second one  is good at heart but has been misguided by conformations the family is subject to; standards they've set themselves to be the ultimatum (wishful thinking of helping this bright young lady to broaden her horizons has been but only thoughts). The youngest, like all youngest child of a family, is pampered. A lot of growing up to do but curiously at 14 years of age is rather intelligent and well-read just like her elder sisters. The sad part to this tale however is my uncle. Psychotic I must say, to be able to fire a gunshot at his wife. Luckily it was dodged by my aunt. This is but one simple example of how much terror he can cause. Life seems to be going rather undisturbed for them currently, absent of those unexpected bouts of 'epileptic fit' my uncle throws. Though my aunt has a long way to go for a blissful life, I still hope the light at the end of the tunnel may shine through, that her norms in believing and worshiping astrology, may be just the thing she needs to get rid of.

Aunt #4: The youngest. Like the rest of my dad's siblings has three children. The eldest met with a horrifying accident from which he escaped death two years ago. The second child is an alcoholic at 19 years of age. Both of the boys smoke incessantly. The third one- with the exception of Aunt #3's three girls- is like the rest of my cousin sisters in the family, morbidly obese. Enough said about the offspring, my aunt is a person on a spiritual path like my mom and myself but is still contained in a box whereby passing judgments is yet to be rid off. A scenario at a tailor's shop (which both she and my mom frequents) may tell you why.

In Tamil,

Tailor: Will you get married? (Questioned me; he obviously saw through my sexuality)
Aunt #4: Of course. He's got three aunts, how can he NOT be married???
Tailor: *smiles* Don't get married and then later regret your decision. Sometimes people rush into things and then cry over it later. (I knew exactly what he meant)
Aunt #4: Don't worry, Hdaran will definitely get married to a wonderful gal. *tones of cuteness* (you would be if you are over forty but at just 4ft 10inchs tall, nice and round)
Hdaran: I know how I am going to lead my life and how my future is to be and I shall not let anyone dictate it. (being the person I am, I wanted to get the message across that marriage is not in my books without disclosing my sexuality)

Anyone who knows me, would definitely be able to see the fact that I will never be able to find solace in heterosexual matrimony. My entire extended family believes otherwise and God knows they're all in denial and sitting comfortably with a false notion that I would indeed adjust my beliefs for their respect. Reality check to knock in, in less then 5 years!!!

So there it is, the dysfunctional extended family. Everyone sitting comfortably in their own cubicles engineered to believe that life is all that is in their heads. Pretending that gay people do not exist in their midst, convinced that God is what their distorted minds have come to conclude, believing that life is to be followed according societal rules that govern it, sadly and utterly unaware of the whirlwind of possibilities that my mind, constantly and effortlessly, collects into plans and pursuits I have set for in my life.

God, help me HELP them...

When The Going Gets Dull, Spice Things Up!

Nope, no one's dead, and no, I haven't attempted to rupture more blood vessels of mine again and definitely not, Mr. P hasn't contacted me!!! I just felt like writing (or rather, typing)... One of those days where your fingers move to the rhythm your heart and your mind tell it to...

What to write about when all I've been doing is looking through countless journals all day long about oil-pressed residues and antioxidants and DPPH radical scavenging activities... OOOFFFF!!!! All I wanted was a normal boring day job so I could dedicate my nights to reading, and going out for drinks and socialising and learning odissi every Saturday. Not that I am not doing all of that (minus the dancing of course) but it's the cash funds that I find so difficult to keep up with. Oh well, might as well make the best out of my situation. Besides, once I finish my doctorate I may be paid twice as much as what my friends make. Being gay, would mean, no children, no commitments, just me, myself, my spirituality, my friends, my family and fabulousness. Argh... The boyfriend can wait. I am no more in a rush to meet that dumbass wrapped in aluminium foil (think Prince Charming in an armour of steel).

While we are down that road, Sunbear (thanks Cookies and Cakes), one of the longest holding friends-with-benefit of mine from KL, has been kind enough to drop me a few lines every now and then to inquire my well-being. Sunbear, it seems, is at a phase of his life whereby the "fun" no longer mattered and loneliness has managed to creep in. *rolls eyes* Why do people only realise things like this when its too late. I say this because I was so ready to give US (Sunbear and I) a chance at a relationship a few years ago. He has always been with people who wanted nothing but carnal pleasure with him/ from him; either way its immaterial. Now he wants a relationship???

 I had a feeling he was testing the waters with me as to whether or not I still believe in happy endings. Yes, of course I do believe in 'ever after's but nonetheless I have also come to realise much higher truths than that (i'll save the preaching for other entries). My 'preset' brain has been 'reset' to evolved from, "LOVE is important" to "LOVE is, if and only if, it is GOD" (shit, sorry, no more preaching..... really!!!).

So Sunbear, went on about how he was feeling so much inadequacy in his life. How much he's been doing nothing but watching TV. How he rarely meets up with other men for sex these days. Bla bla bla, yada yada yada... And just when i thought the worst was over, the scale was yanked up and he used the ultimate turn off line (for me at least...);

Sunbear: If u were still kl would consider me??? (excuse the grammar, Sunbear was always defensive about his language skills)
Hdaran: Of course i wud! U tc nites. (God forgive me, don't send me to hell!!!)
Sunbear: Thanks da. I miss u...

Euggghhh!!! Tactless, absolutely tactless. I may have forgotten how to love and how it is like being in love but trust me, Sunbear, NOT an option. One mustn't deny, being with him had its perks. I used to be treated like I wanted to. Chauffeured driven around, meals taken care of, drinks checked, sex (well, that...I usually took whatever I got), and time mostly well-spent. What can I say? I had nothing to complain and it was a comfortable union that lasted long enough...

*eyebrow raised*
*evil grin carved*

It was then the Devil's ears and tail grew and yes, yes yes yes, why not!!! He's earning well, he needs some companionship and I am free of attachments, so voila, I played along... The cat is in the bag!!! Fantastic!!! I've got a person to take around, who'd buy me drinks and spend for me whenever he comes down to the island. Just what I need to spice things up when the going gets dull.

So, that's  that. I have no idea when my ordeal/total closure of Mr. P is going to end/come and loneliness sometimes coerces me into looking at his pictures and then crying momentarily. So, while the physical detachment is there without my conscience constantly poking me in the gut, I can safely enjoy this particular endeavor until the one true dumbass comes along to give me hell (LOL, one shall always question the possibility of a truly happy relationship). With that said, I welcome the comfortable hotel sheets and bath tubs, the room service, the cocktails, wines and good food, and last (and LEAST), only just acceptable, the sex.

Besides, Sunbear can be easily disposed off.
My goodness, wherever did the Hdaran, so often passed over, go to???!!!

Of a Mantra, an Artwork, Choki Choki, size 34, and Being Indian....

In a heated conversation about a certain insignificant someone.

CnC: You have always been pushover.

Hdaran: Ya...(very nonchalantly) *a second or two pause* Eh, excuse me???

*roaring laughters*

I've come across as someone with a good sense of humour these days. I wonder why... I have never been able to spontaneously burst out with witty things to say but nevertheless it seems I have been doing so. Evidently, people seem to be laughing more often than not at the things I say. *quizzical looks*

Moving on...

This was captured at a mass-chanting of the Gayatri mantra 540 times for world peace. Held in the Ramakrishna Ashram, Penang. Was such an empowering experience to be able to my bit for the world and its betterment.

Artwork at Kopi Cine. Wonderful place to have coffee, cakes and chat...

Childhood... Remember this???

Me in a 34 size jeans from Kitschen, WOOHOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!

The scene in an Indian Cash 'n' Carry... I love the smell of incense and with it a sense of belonging...

There was a tale to tell behind all of these pictures for if not one would have not bothered uploading.

The Mantra
An effort of seemingly great spiritual proportions; to gather 500 hundred people under one roof to chant the following:-

Om Bhur Bhuvah Suvah,

Tat Savitur Varenyam,

Bhargo Devasya Dhimahi,

Dhiyo Yo Nah Prachodayat.

540 TIMES!!!! 

The meaning:

Oh God, the Protector, the basis of all life, Who is self-existent, Who is free from all pains and Whose contact frees the soul from all troubles, Who pervades the Universe and sustains all, the Creator and Energizer of the whole Universe, the Giver of happiness, Who is worthy of acceptance, the most excellent, Who is Pure and the Purifier of all, let us embrace that very God, so that He may direct our mental faculties in the right direction.

 http://www.eaglespace.com/spirit/gayatribywords.php

My interest in spirituality is attributable to one book Autobiography of a Yogi. It threw all my preconceived notions about God and everything in between mercilessly out of the window. I shall be forever grateful to the Saints, Yogis, Rishis, and Swamis of the world forever more because I was led to the Ultimate Truth. Have yet to experience the Bliss but my believes, approaching a stoic nature, shall help me get to HIM, the Creator of Everything.

The Artwork

Cookies and Cakes and I have been always full of alacrity at the sight of pastries (reasons why one should not wonder why "Cookies and Cakes"). The enthusiastic gay man (who finally came out to me a couple of months ago) once exclaimed in tones of pure joy that he has found yet another place to have, well, cakes and cookies and coffee in a quaint little setting. 

CnC: But its rather pricey though. I mean 10 to 12 bucks for a slice of cake. 

Hdaran: Its ok, if the cakes are as good as you say there are then I guess we're in for a delightful visit.

He decided, on an occasion to patronise the place, to bring along a new acquaintance, Candy Skirt. Like CnC, she reads law. Fashionable yet I always felt she could do better. Oh well, who am I to talk. 

Kopi Cine as it is called, is charming as it is welcoming. A wonderful menu with beautifully baked and simply presented cakes. Enough said. I also did adore the idea of a white sheet of paper clipped on to each table and container of crayons to work out something while having a conversation. Results of that occasion is The Artwork. Charming, absolutely charming.

Choki Choki

I was at a sundry shop belonging to one of dad's bestie when i came across this. Choki Choki!!! I was immediately drawn back to my childhood, sweet, gay memories of nothing but endless running around; carefree and ignorant...

Uncle Shan: Take la, I give u, free....

Hdaran: Thankiyiew!!! My God, I haven't had this in ages. (Used to be the only snack in between meals at one point of my life...)

Uncle Shan: Hahaha. Yala, remember how you and your brother used to come and eat them here when you were small...

Hdaran: *grins*

I miss being a child.

Size 34

One day before horror. Went out with Miss Sincere Adequacy, and tried out a pair of 34 size pants @ Kitschen and it FIT. The joy!!! After so many painful months i am a 34!!! Couldn't help but stare at it again and again.

Being Indian (Indian Cash N Carry)

When I was in KL, we (Mr. P, my Indian gang and I) used to waste our times at places where Indian shops were abundant i.e. Brickfields, Masjid India etc. Although one has to admit the severity of boredom was almost inexplicable, yours truly used to take comfort in rejoicing with the Indian'ness' of the entire scenario. Stacks of colourful sarees, rows of intricate Punjabi suits, inexhaustible sources of costume jewellery (the heavy necklaces and ear-rings Indian women adorn with sarees), bangles of every imaginable colour, pottus of every conceivable style, and Indian products of every doable use; very least to say that the list goes on. 

I drove my aunt to a 'Cash N Carry' about 5 minutes away from grandma's place a day before my birthday to get some supplies for an important religious celebration for the Hindu deity Vinayaga (the One with the Elephant Head). Incidentally, it fell on my birthday. And lo and behold the scene of that shop took me back to KL... Although the Island boasts streets lined with such similar retails I was intrigued by this one because it seemed so near my home and yet took me 400 kilometres away from it. Ah... the sweet memories of being in love and inevitably the painful ones too...

I have always told myself this. 

There is always, ALWAYS, a reason behind every single course in life. 

Be the outcomes bad;

The decisions erroneous;

Or the happenings excruciating;

It will definitely or indefinitely teach us, give us or bless us with something.

That is what we should lead ourselves to believe is important because it is then we will take everything that comes in our way in the most accepting way. When we accept and embrace the coming, the reaping is ours to take. And trust me when I say that when you reap unfortunate events in your life, you'll become the best student it creates.

"Nothing may be truly said to be 'miracle' except in the profound sense that everything is a miracle"

-Paramahansa Yogananda.