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.....