The Perfect Day

The first sip on my tongue and down my throat and I knew every cent of the 60 MYR I spent on that bottle was more than worth it.

Enter 28 of December 2011, an outrageously ordinary day. Nothing beyond the confinement of that little space of my own on campus; nothing beneath a Subway sandwich and a Tesco shopping trip. However, everything seemed extraordinary!

The franchise caught the corners of my eyes 5 days ago when it opened its doors. A good 30-35 minutes walk from my little space. WHO cares! Fast, relatively healthy, fresh food; count me in! 30 minutes walk to build the appetite, 30 minutes to burn a fraction of it off. Life here just got that much better.

The Tesco shopping trip proved to be fruitful! The bottles of bubbly I've been ogling over for a fortnight was still there! Thank God few people know of its significance where I come from! Rewind to my opening statement; one of the best 60 MYR I've spent! I don't keep a list but if I did, it would fall under "Top Five Magical Things I Found On My Own, Bought and Enjoyed".

28th December was wrapped up with a 4km jog under 30 minutes after which the bottle was popped open with a movie on the laptop.

Of course, nothing unprecedented. In fact, quite anti-climatic when I realised the big burn in my wallet; more so living by a limited weekly cash-flow. It is rather quotidian of me to frequent Tesco in the middle of the week to stock up on some supplies. In fact, sans the bubbly and Subway, it would have been a boring day.

Prove that The Perfect Day need not be anything phenomenal!

The One About Madam R

I dread Madam R's stay at the temple, not because I particularly abhor her, but because it conjures images of her irresistible calorie-laden dishes. Terrifyingly enough, the senior is currently back in the kitchen, draining the oil bottle, which, if she wasn't around, lasts months on the counter. Due to her serious lack of the ability to detach, her doomed love for her only son and her silent promise to watch her grandchildren; she tolerates living with a devil forced to be reckoned with as my aunt. Her relief from the hell is during school holidays when the devil in disguise is available to watch her own children. Madam R immediately flees the place to be with her daughter a.k.a The High Priestess. Cookies and Cakes would refer to her as The Empress!!! Albeit her archaic mindset across a myriad of issues annoying me, I am quite fond of Madam R, I truly am.


She has;

wonderful tales to tell of growing up in an orphanage, swearing it was the best 14 years of her life;

horrifically amusing tales of her labour (the woman managed to walk a short distance, crossing over a fence standing half a meter tall along the way, to the hospital AFTER her water bag had burst AND nonchalantly relates to the whole event!!!);

and;

confusing tales of how a friend of mine is her husband's, father's, (one of his) brother's, (one of his) son's daughter (I am pretty sure I am wrong about this particular connection).

She is also a conversationalist whose morning routine involves two slices of bread, a cup of decaf and her daily Tamil newspapers; yes, she is literate, very MUCH! However, the one time I really do (remorsefully) wish her departure from the temple is when she puts that culinary skills of hers to use.

There was once I decided to 'inspect' her in action, just in time to stumble upon her generous use of the aforementioned cooking ingredient. From the ground I stood, I shrieked, out loud, the words, "Are you mad??"  and held her hand to a screeching halt. She was just about to pour the blended gravy-mix of tomatoes and onions into at least more than half a cup of leftover oil bubbling away in the wok.


Hdaran: Enna aatha panringeh??? (What the hell are you doing??; the word 'hell' was fittingly added into the translation to express my dismay.)
Madam R: Ennada?? (WHAT??!!)
Hdaran: Ivoloh ennaiyileh sambal seiye poringelah? (Are you making the gravy with this much oil?)
Madam R: Ennada??!! Ivolo ennai podelenah nalla irekkathe!!! (What?!! It won't taste good without this much of oil!!!)
Hdaran: Adekaduvuleh!!! Thaivasenjhi mothe konjum ennaiyeh veliyeh uutheringelah! Ivolo ennai sapta, enna aaverathe???!!!! Appa paathangenah.....kadavuleh!!! (OMG!!! Please discard some oil!!! The things that could happen with this much of oil consumed!!! If dad knows of this.... Good Lord!!!)
Madam R: Sari, neeneh eduthe uuthe. Aperum nalla illena enakke teriyathe!!! (Fine, you do the discarding then. I am not responsible if it doesn't taste good!!!)
Hdaran: Paravaleh, nalla tha irekkum. (It's ok, it'll taste just as good.)


From then on, upon learning of her whereabouts in the kitchen, I have never failed to oversee the process.

Of course her hit tofu dish tasted just as good without the uncalled for additional fat...

Cocoa Cappuccino!

I have found my perfect cup-pa coffee!!!

Starbucks' cocoa cappuccino!!!

Nothing epic or biblical, I know.

If it tastes this good with under-skilled, obviously-ignorant-to-good-coffee-making baristas in Malaysia brewing it, imagine if I was to sample something similar (cocoa and cappuccino) in a quaint little Italian coffee-house?!!!

Thanks, @tissue_fleur !!!

The Usual and The Unexpected

The pedestal has been reclaimed by the High Priest and Priestess after 8 days and nights of sightseeing in the Holy Lands. Thank God for that! I can finally stay put on the island not needing to rush back to make sure the temple is in one piece. 

My second performance with the dance school ended well with congratulatory remarks and thumbs up. That was another relief, now that I can resume my evening jogs to increase my stamina and loose weight. Performing made me realise that I am much too "full-figured" to carry the costume with ease, not to mention being heavier than I once was, did not help with the dancing itself. The body has to meet much more energy demands because of the additional weight resulting in fatigue, eventually disabling me to keep up with the beat and the rhythm of the music. It ain't a pretty picture when needing to sit in the chawka, your body gives up and end up in a pose my teacher likes to call the "motorbike riding" pose. Even more disconcerting is when you're out of breath a crucial point comes when you would need to unconditionally smile, suck in your abdomen and do a brahmari (a 360 degree turn on one feet).

Digressing like I always do, have you noticed that until brought to attention we're pretty oblivious of the ethnicity of people around us? The idea struck me today listening to the radio, and with that a string of thoughts which predominantly included this one phrase, "the amalgamation of different cultures". The 1Malaysia concept is supposed to be about being Malaysian first; but more often than not, the 1Malaysia concept brings to forefront of our brains that we're indeed of different colour and creed. I remember sitting in my class way back in my teens surrounded by 30 others, all first and foremost, my friends. Well, not all of them but at least a good diversified handful's'. Mentioned over and over again is the "yellow"ness of Cookies and Cakes, whom, if I hadn't been blissfully ignorant, is Chinese. In fact, it has been nothing but blissful ignorance that has held our friendship together; ignorance of what least mattered, like it should be with every other person we encounter. I'll admit, I have my prejudices when it comes to being Indian; like yelling at drivers, when impatience clouds one's rationale coercing the verbalisation of racist remarks. However, against all differences and reservations I have against a friend, constant nudges from my inner self remind me that the hemoglobin running through my veins is probably just as similar as his/hers.

Further digressing, I can't seem to help my roving eyes... And since when did the Tamil cine industry start cropping up exceptionally good looking men???

Vaibhav Reddy - Saroja, Goa, Mankatha and others.
Source: http://www.indiaglitz.com/channels/tamil/default.asp

Ganesh Venkatraman - Abhiyum Naanum and Unnai Pol Oruvan
Source: http://www.indiazooms.com/

Dhruva - Aanmai Thavarael
Source: http://tamil.cinesnacks.net/

Sharwanand - Engeyum Eppothum
Source: http://searchandhra.com/

I see a great revolution in the Tamil Cine industry with encouragement from older talents like Hot Men #2 spearheading good hairstyle, up-to-date wardrobe, revelation of healthy proportions of meat and the urge to be fit, DELICIOUSLY FIT!!!!

FIlling In For The High Priestess

Thrice this month and loving every moment of it... People say be careful what you wish for; whilst this may so often be true, therein lies the problem that strings along so many adages alike, its subjectivity. If there is one thing I've not been careful wishing for, it is dance, and boy am I glad I was not! Undeniably pushing me to the limits, undesirably putting my every capability to the test, odissi has been so far my greatest challenge and a blessing beyond words.

That being said, I deviate to my current state of affairs. The 'pedestal' is temporarily devoid of its High Priest and Priestess. Yes, the couple took to manifestation their long anticipated holidays to the Holy Lands. As I type they would probably be journeying backwaters, learning basic yoga and unwinding with relaxing Ayurvedic massages in the state that boasts the origin of not one but two Indian classical dances. No other state in India has such a privilege. I am truly happy for them as this has been one of my mother's dream come true in a long long time.

Kathakali (danced by only men) left, Mohiniattam (danced by only women) right. Picture courtesy of The Hindu.

Hdaran: So after appa gets his retirement money you both can go jet-setting around the world la!
High Priestess: Your appa ah??? *shrugs* He where got time, he can play game on the computer and sit on his throne reading the newspapers but got no time to take me anywhere. Pigs will fly if he does organise something for me...
High Priest: SHADDAP YOU!!!
High Priestess: Please la, no need to jet-set around the world, ask him to take me somewhere in Malaysia...
High Priest: PODI!!!
Hdaran: *rolls eyes* Yes, yes, glad I asked you anything....

With the proper lady of the home on sabbatical for the time being, I have taken over that role. Washing, scrubbing, arranging, dusting, driving to and fro to the island all while still making it in time for dance classes and keeping tabs about what I put in my mouth (no need to go carnal extents). Feels empowering! That I am capable of so much in a day and still get up early next morning full of energy. Tapping into my inner Martha Stewart!

*claps to dust of hands*

Stellar performance!!

And all in a days work!!!

Wheel #3

I've been a third wheel my whole life! And the funny thing is I've never been on the other end. I wonder how it would be...

My services have been most often rendered to my brother and his girlfriends. At his fourth one, even after I swore to never do this, I am a 'nuchsclepp' at this very moment, him and the alleged girl sitting in front of me. The only thing holding them to their seats is the presence of each other with nothing more than his DSLR snapping away at her intermittent by conversations only infatuation would understand! 

I hate being a lamp-post and it's tragic how I end up being in that position over and over again! Especially now that I am in that stage where love is obsolete, bordering on almost ridiculous. Even more tragic considering Gdaran wasn't the only one with the privilege of experiencing quality chaperoning services.

Now, for something worthwhile, I'll performing more frequently than I bargained for! And I thank God for that! I'm in practice thrice a week and I can literally feel myself bulking up especially in the thighs and gluteals. What would I do without dance??!! It took 20 years for that calling to materialise! A 20 years waste of being fit!!! 

I don't believe in coincidences, so I guess it's just meant to be like this. I would have been much more effeminate if I'd started dancing from adolescence. Just trying to see the silver lining... 

Cum and Scum!

I remember writing one of my initial posts in this virtual space about the fact that I am a full-fledged scientist and trying to make the best out of it. That feeling and sense of exuberance was reaffirmed today!

A visit to the microscope lab did it. Pretty cliched huh? A scientist with a microscope. Trust me, there's more. It wasn't just any microscope, it was a Scanning Electron Microscope. The kind of microscope that gives you images like this one;

Yup, you guessed it. Cum! Or at least its main constituent.

Amazing isn't it! Something so minute magnified a thousand times over and voila! As interesting as the idea may seem, the samples I was observing weren't of any part of the human anatomy. They were peanuts (nuts.... uh oh...). Each image formed on the computer screen unraveled mysteries of what took place when the nuts (uh...oh... *mind running afar*) were roasted employing a relatively new cooking method. There really is no other way to put it; it still very much marvels me to know how powerful science is and scientists are. 

Digressing, there is a cousin of mine whom I used to abhor because of how she puts up a fraudulent persona of being nice; Pseudo Lil' Miss Sunshine. The over-achiever whose perfect grades and bogus charm most often left me to be looked upon as dart-board for unprecedented bouts of verbal diarrhea! From my parents and from my relatives alike; I kid you fucking-not! A physician who has made herself comfortable in the Land of Shakespeare, she is currently on a 10-days holiday back in homeland. There is, however, without a doubt the consideration of how things have certainly taken a turn for the best for me this time around.

#1 I am no more an underachiever. I was never actually that much of a failure but Pseudo Lil' Miss Sunshine had perfect 10s in everything she did; straight A's student in all the public examinations, PSD scholar, and now a doctor. Incidentally, the only thing she ever did do best, besides studying, was being hypocritical. Both of us being of the same age did NOT help. More so because their abode was a mere 2 minutes drive from mine and The High Priestess was her aunt whom was closely knit to her mom; the sister!!!

#2 I am now indifferent to everything about her. Like every other post on "Just Me", this is merely my experiences; an outlet of expression. And trust me when I say, Pseudo Lil' Miss Sunshine deserves a post dedicated to her for being one of the most self-centered (owh, I forgot to mention that didn't I; intriguing given the fact that she helps people; possibly one of the many facades she puts up to seem impressive; whatever the reason, I could CARE less!!!), deceitful person I have ever known!

Bijayini Satpathy Talks About Dance

Intelligence beyond comprehension, one that can only be imbibed, not felt, fathomed, or recognised. One that transcends any kind of emotion, any kind of understanding, any manner of narration, or any manner of description.

Awe-inspiring and insightful;

Bijayini Satpathy;

In her way, talks about all that is dance.

Dinner is Served!

"When I first moved to New York and I was totally broke, I used to buy Vogue instead of dinner. I felt that it fed me more."

Carrie Bradshaw

Sex And The City

Season 4

Episode 2

And here's my November copy. I have always preferred British Vogue instead of its American counterpart. Even with the allure of all that is Anna Wintour.

And after many months (adding up to, God knows, how many years), dinner is served!!!

Voila!

ABRACADABRA!!!!!

I am drawn to the supernatural, Bewitched, Twilight (you can stop laughing, I only relate the vampire part, not the lame Bella-Edward-Jake distorted love triangle part; I always skip the uncalled for, lengthy, juvenile love scenes when watching reruns of the movies), Harry Potter (fine, I am childish!!! HAPPY???), Charmed, Angel and World's Scariest Places, to name a few. Which is why my aunt's stories usually fascinate me; stories from an array of real life witchcraft.

The allure of magic is irresistible to me; levitation, telepathy, premonition. Gifts. I think all this lies within my deep subconscious; the need to prove myself. I have lived my life always being overshadowed by the achievers and the notorious. Belonging to neither extreme, no one saw me as being potentially threatening or to own threatening potential. Not a force to be reckoned with with nor a person to be fearfully approached. I wasn't exactly a wallflower all the time having had my occasional moments in the limelight. Until recent times, I have never been taken seriously and I have always wanted to be.

Being much more celebrated then I previously was that yearning for magic has somewhat mellowed down. More or less, I was drawn to spells and enchantments during my adolescence because I would've liked to know that I was special. That even if I could not share my 'talents' with the world, I could at least discreetly make magic happen. I grew up taking comfort in the capability of the audio-visual projections of the idiot box to give me hope so that one day I could also become a witch, a vampire, a telepath, an elf or the very least possess the ability to levitate. 

I am no more condoning of these far-fetched ideas but my take on magic has certainly been clarified. Magic does exist but subtler than what I've known. Even then, I have never lost my fascination for 'abracadabra'...

Who wouldn't fancy being powerful objects of desire!!!????

All That's Left

Diwali 2011 was just like any other. 2 weeks of cleaning, 2 days of drinking, 2 nights out late and 2 mornings curled up in bed till 12pm.

9th November 2011 is just around the corner and I am good.

All that's left is to loose the weight... ALL THAT'S LEFT!!!

Albeit the aunt in the hospital, the grandmother's never-ending feud with her daughter-in-law, the intentionally burdened digestive tract and unintentionally bludgeoned bowels, Diwali 2011 went by as uneventfully as it did before 2010...

Happy Diwali Hdaran!!!

28th October 2011

I met someone...

And I stayed strong...

Just Around The Corner; Dust Bunnies And Mops

Diwali is around the corner and gone are the days when I actually looked forward to it.

Well, not to seem like a stick in the mud but Diwali is becoming a pain in the neck for me these days, literally.

Two reasons;

#1 The High Priest and Priestess are not as young as they once used to be thus not as able to fully participate in preparations for the "soiree".

#2 The High Priest and Gdaran aren't the most enthusiastic when it comes to physical work that involves sweat minus 'fun'.

So, being the most able bodied, mother-loving, willingly obliging, young, strong(er) person in the house, I end up putting a smile on the face, with a boost of confidence from the stereo, get down (occasionally up) and dirty. Trust me, it's no where close to how it sounds when the DJ says it.

This year is no exception as it has been for the past, 5 years or so. I finished my Diwali shopping a few weeks ago and I bought only the necessities, plus a few extras for dance training and sleeping (alone---in the bed---at night---not sex---ok fine! jammies---not that I use them anymore---ok fine!! boxer shorts!!!).

Gdaran enjoys his Diwalis every year...

Three reasons;

#1 His taste for clothes isn't always good but they're rather blindly expensive. And he derives pleasure from it.

#2 Sloshing is obligatory during Diwali.

#3 Minimal involvement with dust bunnies and mops.

Owh well, for the sake of the light triumphing against the darkness, as Cookies and Cakes usually say, "Happy Cleaning!"

My Dancing Bells

Beautiful aren't they???

The dancing bells were sitting in my prayer alter right after the performance....

Salutations!

My maiden performance with the dance school I am currently affiliated with. Filling my heart with piety and devotion I said thanks to God, my gurus, and my trainers again and again. The dancing bells were blessed and tied on my feet by my teacher as with all initiation of Indian classical dancing. I was the only one in my group with that blessing. Just last year I was among the audience, yearning to be on that stage offering my love to God through something that I had passion for beyond words. This year, I was there, in full odissi attire dancing to appease Lord Ganesha, as Himself, to Him, for Him; my love offering. Months of training; to make sure my fellow dancers get their steps, stances, and mudras correctly; and months; anticipating if or not this night was ever going to materialise.

So it did, in all glory that I could have imagined and more. The 7 minutes on stage flew by like a swift breeze. And none of it I could recall except for the blissfulness of asking Lord Jagannath to bless me so that my offering of love to Him is done flawlessly. 7 minutes of pure divinity; 7 minutes of everything and nothingness itself; 7 minutes of sublime ecstasy.

After the performances ended, we gathered to hear reviews. I was indifferent because I felt that God had accepted wholeheartedly the offering. But then again listening to the reviews were encouraging, more so because I had (strangely enough) actually put on weight prior to the performance. Also, a quality I have imbibed learning odissi is humility. Respecting and accepting critic is a mark of a true performer and one that God Himself reveres.

My teacher: Hats off to the Mangalacharan group. You did very well. Everything was nicely done. 


My senior trainer: *with salutations* Thanks to Hdaran very much la. You really did a great job.


A random woman form the audience: Your performance was absolutely wonderful. Really amazing. I had chills sitting in the crowd watching you dance. It was like Lord Jagannath Himself was dancing on stage! (I replied humbly, with a face full of smiles; Thank you so much, your words are really encouraging. All praise to Lord Jagannath!!!)

My friends: Great! Awesome! You stood out! It was wonderful! I'm glad I didn't miss it!

This has nothing to do with narcissism. These words are probably the exact words a dancer would like to hear above all else. I have been blessed with this gift and it has been an honour to be able to present it at the feet of God, and to be able to share it with people whom are appreciative of this intricate art form.

All praise to Lord Jagannath!!!
Salutations to my guru.
Salutations to my trainers.
Salutations to my friends.
Aum, Shanthi Shanthi Shanthi...

PDA

PDA (Public Display of Affection). Those first few moments in a relationship when being apart seems like a crack unearths on the soil ripping apart the hands that cling on desperately to each other... Dear God, seriously?

A matter of real true love or the act of pride? If the entire Earth really stands still and you and the significant other are the only two people apparently present in such a circumstance where reflexes coerces you into caressing one another, then I say you need psychiatric treatment ASAP! Love doesn't need to be showy, genuine love doesn't manifest in public.

The gunghroos from India are confirmed for me. I'll be getting two pairs. Two strings on each ankle. Can't wait!!!

Courtesy of http://www.sazmahal.com/ 

Reality Check; The AWESOME Sort!!!

So after dance classes yesterday the senior trainer of my dance school for the odissi repertoire approached me and in low, almost obscure tones, the following conversation took place;

Trainer: Hdaran, you please help me la ok? I want to make sure you all do well for Navarathri. You must really push them and make sure they do their chawkas and banghis properly.
Hdaran: Sure akka (elder sister in Tamil), no problem.
Trainer: Actually, I want to pull you and Cheetah Girl #2 for performances later. You got a lot of potential, no need saying and Cheetah Girl #2 does as well. 
Hdaran: *nods*
Trainer: We've got a lot of upcoming performances and I want you both to also perform. There's one on the 29th of October. 
Hdaran: Owh! *nods wildly*
Trainer: I want both of you to learn Moksha by then. I actually had a performance team but sometimes you know la, that day also this girl backed out because of fever. Cheetah Girl #2 got a potential but you must help me push her la. She has to be pushed so she can do well. Ok?
Hdaran: Ok akka, sure no problem.


As swiftly and as unanticipated as she came, the news bearer scurried off for her dance practice. I stood my ground literally blinking over and over again several times before I realised this wasn't the first good news of the week. I was already asked to oversee the practice of the younger dancers from the intermediate class. ME, training students ahead of me in duration of training. BY MY TEACHER!!!

The news didn't really sit well with me primarily because it seemed so surreal.

#1 Indian classical dance has been a lifelong dream of mine. (I want to say it again ok!!!!)

#2 I am finally a classical dancer, in all its glory! (No, will N-E-V-E-R get tired of saying it!!!)

#3 I am performing for Navarathri with blessed dancing bells (the signature of a true Indian classical dancer).

#4 I get to perform with a dance school that has been revered for it's involvement in the Indian classical arts for decades!!!

I questioned myself for days, is this really happening??? Is it??? I am going to be performing??? With my dance school???!!!!

Someone pinch me, and pinch me hard!!!

To Durai

To Durai,

One of my recent status on FB reads....

"It's so sad to see the physically disabled. But then again they're the ones whom appreciate life more than any of us! I'm ashamed because I have, in the past, taken that God given gift called life so easily. Never again!"

And this is a tribute to you, someone I first had a love-hate feeling towards which turned into utter admiration.
Durai, the blogger whom called himself a 'macha' and not afraid to say it (not an insult in any way)!

The latest post on Raged Indian;

http://ragedindian.com/2011/09/14/dribble-through-trouble/

Hats off my friend! Am grateful to have stumbled upon your blog!!!

I am leaving my worries behind, no more Mr. P (last time you'd hear of this name here), no more complaints, no more regrets.

Sincerely,

Hdaran.

Happy Birthday

Yesterday was Hdaran's birthday!

Happy Birthday Hdaran...

It's hoped in this turning of a new age that a new spirit for life itself is seeded!!!

I Say Nothing

With just two days left, I am in a state of denial to the course my life has taken.

Here's me breaking out of being in denial.

#1 I am back to my old size, a size 38 pair of denims are the only other thing besides another pair of cotton pants that fit me now. Sounds trivial. But like most obese people, there are so many underlying emotions involved.

#2 I keep trying to blame everything else for this predicament but I have come into terms that it was indeed my doing. My fears, my insecurities, my inabilities, my shortcomings.

#3 I procrastinate which has kept me away from many things I could have sorted out in my life. Everything in my life would have been better had I done it WHEN it should have been done.

In less than half a decade I'd be midlife. All that's left is but a few more years to not regret an eternity of selling myself short to myself.

In the past, I have had said many things to motivate myself and I've said it with conviction.

Now they all seem juvenile for most of it has become nothing but mere words.

I've decided to say nothing.

And do everything.

The One Bad Thing About Sex!

The one bad thing about sex is when you've had it, you keep going to it for more!!! Crazy Soldier told me someone finally broke into his 'merchandise'! The boy's definitely going back for more!!! HAHAHA!!!

Good day people!!!

The Good Times

Saturday, 27th August, 12.30 am onward

Matrimony of a certain someone took me 200 kms away from home to a small town in the neighbouring state. It was a friend of Gdaran's from his days in polytechnic whom incidentally was tying the knot with a junior of mine. I personally had no close ties to this junior of mine; it was just another favour for Gdaran. The good thing however was the fact that his friends and I were previously introduced last year when we traveled to Port Dickson for an overnight stay; alcohol, beach, unhealthy munchies and all!

We were ahead of the rest and was taken to a nearby dorm-cum-motel to freshen up and get some rest. It was decent and comfortable with air conditioning. Upon arrival, the alcohol sloshing almost immediately began and it lasted way up to the next night. This was the first time I have been under the influence of alcohol for more than 24 straight hours, the buzz, not once wearing off. It all somehow felt blithe because they reminded me of my boys back in uni; a similar collection of loud, funny, carefree, and hopeless bunch of morons. It stroke a chord in me; time and choices may take one far from where he/she started, but for the sake of the good times, everything else becomes trivial in comparison. Disheartening is the fact  that good times don't last but I relish that they would come along over and over again for me to cherish.

Monday, 29th August, 11.30 pm onward

I was out with Gdaran for our occasional routine go at the pool table along with two other of his friends when someone popped back in my life. One guess who. Right across the table, just as I was about to try and salvage my hopeless streak of unfortunate faults that night, this slim figure of dark complexion and well toned arms, hat in place, goatee trimmed to accentuate an already sharp angular face, manifested. Immediately, I felt this huge punch in my gut, adrenaline gushed in and took over no sooner than I had thrust the cue stick upon the cue ball. At that moment, I understood what it was like to want to run in the opposite direction when you stumble upon an ex. I held my ground anyway, and did the only sane thing I could think of, text-SOS my friends for help. Dear Teddy replied assuring me that I had nothing to worry about. Just as I expected, Mr P and I ignored each other. He was long gone before I decided to pry on the adjacent table but seeing that empty table brought me back to life akin to being resuscitated via a defibrillator. I resumed the rest of the night winning two frames of the 3 frames game we played. 

Tuesday, 30th August, 7.30 pm onward

Cookies and Cakes is back from the capital city and he brought along the ultimate accessory!!! (Sorry CnC, I don't wanna be so jaded but I guess you would understand for now.) Giggly Mellie was the fourth lively addition to a Chinese steamboat dinner, a sit-down pastry dessert explosion and a late night social accompaniment of Paulhaner, draught, and cider. 

Surprise surprise, I got a Fossil watch for a birthday gift!!!

And not a single cent spent the whole night through!!!

I have the greatest bestest best friend in the whole wide world!!!!!!

Thanks CnC!!!

Here's to the good times!!! Cheers!!!

Between Fierce Allegiance and Deepening Desire

The group which I used to dance with/for when I was in the capital city during my undergraduate days is coming to the island. They would be performing for an event held at the faint imitation of the world renown Times Square in the Big Apple (don't get me wrong, I love my homeland but I feel it's just unintelligent to copy names in hopes of making it seem monumental; I'd say half of the island's population and at least a fourth of the people whom frequent the venue do not know what 'Times Square' represents). I was invited to perform as well.

Here's the thing, the dance school I am affiliated with are rather strict when it comes to their students performing outside the capacity the school allows them to. We're not allowed to use any part of the songs, and or, choreography to perform on our own unless approved by the institution and the teacher alike.

Yes, no problem, given the fact that the choreography which has been suggested by the 'ex'-dance group's creative director has got nothing to do with my dance school or its productions. The problem is, the piece has a semi-classical flair to it; involving classical dance costumes and using of the dancing bells. Hence, potentially problematic because I do not want to be accused of melodramatic charges for treason.

Indian classical dance has got a staunch upholding of the guru-sishya parampara (literally meaning, teacher-student tradition). This particular dance school more than any other (almost more than any other), enforces it, and if I may say so, fiercely. Wearing dancing bells and performing on stage without the consent of my teacher would mean, to a certain level, treachery (rather blown out of proportions but yes, more or less, to be crude; treachery). A student with ignorance for his/her guru's approval is seen ill-fitting of learning the art. This is no exaggeration!

So what do I do...??? An inner dilemma tearing me apart. A part of me wanting to avoid asking my teacher as it may suggest my tendency (no matter how trivial) for being rebellious. A trait that may be, in future scenarios, come off as a lack of discipline, arrogance even. The other half however, wants to adorn the costumes and dancing bells so badly as this chance may well take a year after the end of September (Navarathri) to come if I were to continue expressing my fierce allegiance to the dance school. The ensuing one being the 2012 Navarathri!!!

What does one do???

At times like these, I wish I was still in the capital city...

Tamil Classes and Nike

The High Priest is attending language classes; Tamil! What a happy surprise!!!

Inevitably my thoughts projected to a classroom full of seniors being taught Tamil alphabets using a blackboard writing down sentences constructed with at most 5 words a row; each alphabet written down big and clear akin to flashcards toddlers are accustomed to. A funny picture that was, particularly when I pictured my father among them.

Courtesy of http://www.saivam.org.uk/

Having spotted a clearance sale on a bunting banner for brands usually flashing extravagantly (for me at least) priced trainers I dragged my brother to hunt down a possible pair I could wear to jog. Lo and behold, I found it! Putting it to the test soon to see if the good stuff really makes a difference.

Deception and Innovation

Deception, one of man's most lethal weapon and also his most powerful tool. Deception comes in many forms, its utmost effective semblance and tool of execution being persuasion. If you have that power then anything you desire becomes easy to grasp. Methods of persuasion include sex, money, power, love (owh yes, very crude but you and I know it's possible) and a myriad of others which, if broken down to its bare essentials, come down the four aforementioned.

Deception; mass deception; corrupt politicians against people to fulfill their personal agenda;

as a concerned citizen, I feel it's time I hopped on the bandwagon and write about this current predicament of our country from my point of view. Well-known are the details of the happenings of the 9th of July incident, even better documented are the truths and the untruths of it. Looking at the goals of the movement, it becomes clear that the board of people 'entrusted' with the responsibility of running the country are in hot soup. Certainly there must be something they're doing or otherwise that has lead to this outrage. But then again, there isn't much we can do as individuals unless of course we are, specifically, individuals with political power. The question here isn't if this flow of events would cause a revolution, the question here is what we, as society can actually do to ensure change. We, the society, are the ones whom have bestowed the power upon whomever it is that are governing our every day lives in the country. Democracy is ultimately our single, most opportune chance at making a difference. Let's all embrace and exercise it. I for one have decided to not sit in ignorance. I shall march when it matters most to make my stand as an individual to exercise the power of people's suffrage; the general elections.

Deception; using sex.

Although this has been so often related to the XX gene, I beg to differ. Of course, why wouldn't I? And I am sure all the queer males of the world would be with me on this. I have literally seen what deception through sex can do. And trust me, when used properly and perfectly, it gives a person such an unshakable aptitude to sublimely manipulate his/her target. I've had one personal experience at practising this particular tool of deception, which allowed me access to the most influential people in my social circle allowing me to squeeze every last possible drop of satisfaction from toying with them.

Deception; with the power of one's position in any given situation.

It's very simply the use of a certain influential position one has acquired to get away with a motive (be it in a company, in a given circle of people, or even in a family). The simplest of scenario would be a family; the youngest gets away with anything, don't you just hate that? Oh the pleasures of being pampered because you're the apple of your parents' eyes!!!

Deception; $$$!!!

Money to deceive, well, we all know what that represents!

Deception; that four letter word!

Love, owh yes, that rare and elusive tool of deception. Executed flawlessly, this evokes the deepest effect onto anyone being deceived. Yes, yes, I agree, if love was used for deception, then it isn't really love. Although, how if one was never aware of its doing; to bend a person's will using love to blind him/her to the obvious. Isn't that what deception is, even if it was done unknowingly? Isn't all that unreal now is it?

I got to thinking about deception because deception, in my point of view, is somewhat a misunderstood term. Deception is after all a way to make things seem, well, in a way it isn't. Misunderstood because, innovation, is above all the cleverest means of deception. One thing said in many different manners can bring about totally different views and innovation, is a way of tweaking something and making it fresh and new, in other words, not what it was/is. Deception and innovation are in many ways similar. And just like sexy and slutty, both stand very close to either side of a border.

All because I wonder, do I deceive or am I innovative? How do justify it?

Blog Title Changed... Yet Again...

I realised this is as apt as it can get...

Just me...

What I think, feel and experience...

Sagas, One From The Cinema and Others from Aunt#3

Everything that begins on Earth will come to an end. So it did, the beloved tale of a young wizard which took the world by storm.
Yes, I have watched it.
The epic conclusion.
Loved all the Harry Potter movies and this was nothing less of an affair to remember.

No, don't expect a long-winded movie review as I've already made my stand on what the books and movies constitute for me.

From surreal magic to real-life witch practices; trips to the Land of The Machas where my aunt lives has always been one to remember. Aunt #3, her tales still ringing in my head of the myriads of ghosts, spirits, and wondrous black magic has come to fascinate me. About a week ago, some new stories were told and they stayed true to their ability to awe me. One particular story which stuck long in my head was the one about the death of her mother-in-law.

Aunt: My mother told me the story of how her in-law passed away. It was like a magic show it seems. When she was an inch away from death, this friend of hers, do you know SKBhai? She tied her soul to her body because she wanted my husband (i.e. the dying lady's son) to be there when she breathes her last breath. At that moment, SKBhai saw the souls of our ancestors waiting at the entrance to guide her to the after-life but SKBhai aunt told them that she wouldn't allow her soul to leave the body without her beloved son by her side. The souls of the ancestors then reminded her that if her soul does not come along before the time of her passing is done she'll be stuck on Earth as a wandering spirit. And so, with a wave of SKBhai aunt's hand, my mother-in-law took one deep breath and passed on. People actually saw a white light, her spirit, leaving her body.

accounts of the incident were re-enacted in a manner so theatrical that even the most unbelieving of people would have to fight every urge to write it off as humbug; one of my aunt's most awe-inspiring trait


Hdaran: Owh....... *widening of the eyes and body language depicting elements of awe*

as much as I am a believer in the astral world and all its intricacies and enchantments, hypocrisy has always been my best friend when it comes to dealing with my dad's sisters


It is extremely surprising to me that although she seems to have developed such an inclination towards spirituality and God that she still thinks of these so called miracles to be an ultimatum. Whenever she throws such a bewildering fable on me, I am not baffled, rather I am curious as to whether or not this poor lady knows that above all, the realisation of God is the real ultimatum. Following the account above were few other narrations involving ashes of the dead, supernatural beings and their doings, and people with consummate clairvoyant powers.

Maybe it's time I tried summoning help from the supernatural?

My Dancing Bells

Picture courtesy of  Mei Mei akka!!!

Took out my dancing dancing bells.

Fastened it around my ankle for a spin.

Felt so great.

My dancing bells aren't yet blessed.

Yes, in Indian classical dance, a dancer does not perform for auspicious occasions like Navarathri, Sivarathri, for poojas and in temples unless they have dancing bells that have been blessed by an initiation.

Maybe that's why mine doesn't sound so enthusiastic.

But it felt good nevertheless.

Danced, in the comforts of my room, to a piece that is supposed to be performed by my classmates and me for Navarathri this year.

Hopefully our guru would initiate us and allow us the privilege of using the dancing bells the next time we perform...

Can't wait...

As days draw nearer.

My heart longs more and more....

Worth Telling

I am sharing a baratanatyam rehearsal video of a performance very recently held in the capital city.

The piece is performed by (including the three male dancers in the video) a total of 6 Indian classical dancers, established in baratanatyam. 

The intriguing thing about the performance is that, 3 of the dancers aren't even Indians. One of the male dancers is French and of Cambodian Chinese lineage whom has established a niche for himself in the Indian classical dance scene with credibility around the world. The other two dancers are Malays; one female and one male. 

I know that the instinctive thing to do would be to compare them to Guru Ramli Ibrahim but then again, Guru Ramli is accomplished, well-known and very synonymous with Indian classical dance; his immense contribution in the process of bringing Indian classical dance to whole new level, dimension and reverence, applaud-worthy.

These people however are fresh raw talent and this small video only left me speechless! To be able to dance alongside dancers like Geethashankaran Lam, Parveen Nair, Uday Win Thang and Hemananthini, one has to be equals to whom are revered, respected and highly esteemed. Their larger than life talents are so intimidating that one humbly receives the honour of even being associated with them, what more being able to dance alongside them. I can only imagine the amount of desire and push the two new'er' dancers possess to undertake such a feat and receive such a blessing nevertheless. 

Hats off to Aswara, one of the nation's most promising dance schools, from which astonishing dancers, performers and artists are created, nurtured and exposed.

I am now more than ever convinced to work my ass off for odissi!!!

To Give Love A Chance...

I am hooked on to a song I recently came across.

It's from this new Tamil movie, 180 Rules Kidaiyathu (translated, There're No 180 Rules).

Nee korinaal vaanam maaratha;
Thinam theeramaleh megam tuuratha...

Translated;

If you require, even the skies could change;
The clouds would drop rain everyday, without halt (not so good for society, for floods may befall)...

Those words were serenaded with a lovely raag (melody) and a captivating harmony. My heart skipped a beat when I nonchalantly clicked to check out the movie trailer. Immediately looked for the song online.

I've probably listened to it 50 times by now (maybe more; downloaded it earlier today) and still loving it. The song is actually playing as I type this. I am a person whose nostalgic senses are piqued by two things; smells and songs. Certain scents (or odours) send me back to the times when that particular sensation was heightened through a significant event (for instance, Mr. P's body odour and if I smell it on anyone else, just an example; the most pertinent and provoking one, thus, easily conceived). Songs; I've always had an attachment to songs that represent me, my relationships, my passions and my loves, throughout the years. I hold them close to my heart. This isn't groundbreaking is it? Well, this is me, and I guess I can't help it if I am stereotypical in this sense can I?

So this song just crept into me. And I realised, I am actually enjoying it; a love song. Epiphany moment!!! I was smiling and melting under the starry night sky with the song on repeat. Then it hits me; I thought I would never enjoy love songs like this ever again. Even if I did, I thought it would be in a very desolate manner.

Here's what I think is going on in my mind and hopefully in my heart. Married Man and the not-so-happy ending kept flashing on and off in my head whilst drowning in the melody. I guess if it flourished he was a man I could have been very hopelessly in love with. Indeed, Mr. P would have been just a scar, a reminder. Now, since (even if) Married Man did not happen, I guess me, myself and I are ready to give love a chance...

How bad can it get?
I've walked out of the life of a man whom wanted me; the very man I loved.
I've walked over suicide and depression.
What could be worse???

Some people can be so daft!!!

With regards to my previous post, mom, dad and yours truly attended the wedding dinner, and, on the correct date!!! Hallelujah!!! The poor thing was so disturbed she didn't use the saree she originally did on the faulty event...

The past few weeks have been filled with weddings, relatives abuzz and multiple dates with people... My roomie, friends from the lab, friends from other social circles, my brother, my cousins. And here I thought I had no life!!! You know what they say, be careful what you wish for.

Dancing has been oh-so-wonderful, with training commencing for the 9 nights festival which in this particular state in Malaysia is rather celebrated. The coincidental clashing of the two festivals (the one of the Hindus and the one of the Chinese) makes it an even more sight to behold, especially the colourful Chinese procession alongside the exuberant Hindu temples adorned for this celebration of the Gods and Goddesses. Personally, Navarathri (9 nights) this year for me bears all the more significance, because it represents my first performance with my dance school and a proper recognition of an Indian classical dancer (man, I never get tired of repeating that). I am sky-rocketting through in classes, being ahead of many intermediate and on par with the advanced level dancers there; very much the beginner with just 6 months of experience. It has been truly a blessing. To be able to train with one of the country's finest.

The more I attend weddings, the more I am reluctant to believe that this notion about romantic love being such a force to reckon with. Utter bullshit!!! Relationships have crumbled before my very eyes and even if people get together, 'for better or worse, in sickness and in health, till death do us apart', none of this wows made have been upheld. And even if they were, compromising one's self is synonymous with being in a marriage or a relationship for that matter. A dream relationship is like hitting a sublimely ripe mango on the top-most branch of a tree with one stone. Most people fail at it. But then, many people just settle with whatever that falls onto them because society sees the need to own a 'mango' as an obligatory list of being human. The society I live in at least. If two people cannot find common grounds then why even bother reaching for the mango??? Love??? Which is why I have come to resent this!!! Seeing couples hating life but just pulling themselves together for this elusive reason is rather infuriating. WHY??? Is love for one person all that worth? I doubt that, having been through it myself... Monumental are those so-called made in heaven matches that I respect, with all my heart, the immaculately flawless nature of their relationship. But why step into matrimony??? How can two people take wows of death do us apart when all that would require to do them apart is something as simple as another human being or some legal papers, both parties sign to separate on the basis of irreconcilable differences??? Hypocrisy hasn't seemed to real to me. More so, when I know of people whom I have slept with that are now regularly sleeping with one person to the eye of the society and sleeping with many others in my personal 'eye of knowledge'. Set aside those people whom are deluded by love, how about people whose insatiable libido takes them outside the marriage and into another's biological canal (and vice-versa)? I stay baffled. And all I have been doing in the past few months attending these events are eye-rolls that could make me dizzy and faux nausea reflexes that could easily equal the real effect.  Don't get me wrong, LOVE, as intangible as it is, is real. I don't hate LOVE, I resent those whom tarnish it.

On a lighter note, Mr. P recently tried contacting me as he was in town and wanted to meet up... I declined and continued ignoring his calls and messages. The next day, Confused Gal calls me and asks me what the hell was going on. Apparently, she was receiving the frustration blows of not having met me or rather pretending to ignore what has happened between us, from Mr. P. And I laughed, hard and long!!! He was doing what he used to do with me, with her. Ok, this is what used to happen a year ago (used to because it has happened countless times albeit difference in content);

Mr. P: Did you talk to Confused Gal? What did she say?
Hdaran: She said that she cannot possibly consider a relationship with you because she can't seem to forget the things that have occurred in the past.
Mr. P: Ok, now call her and talk to her. Ask her this, 'the things that have occurred in the past, whose fault was it?? If she had not done all the things she did, we wouldn't be in this situation right?' But make sure you ask her as if you are asking her. Not like I directed you to ask her.
Hdaran: OK.


(Hdaran continues to do as told. Wait, let's be polite, Hdaran continues to do as 'requested'.)

And now he has probably requested her to ask me why I was avoiding him because Confused Gal's sentence began something like this;

Confused Gal: Senior, I wanna ask you. What's the problem between you and senior P??? I am asking this because I wanted to know for myself.
Hdaran: *laughs uncontrollably, very much aloud* You think I am that stupid to not know that Mr. P asked you to do this???
Confused Gal: No senior, I am asking on my behalf, seriously.
Hdaran: *continues to laugh* Ok, if 'you' must know, then here is what I have to say. Whatever has happened, who, where, when, what, and how, Mr. P knows. Ask him not to pretend otherwise and tell him I told you this. For the next year or two, I will not meet him or talk to him. We'll see... in a year or two, possibly, we may speak. Until then, no, definitely not. I will not meet or talk to him.

I think Mr. P's chapter in my life is done, and this time, I am so certain that I feel have never been more certain about something in my entire life!!!

Many Thoughts And A Laugh

Still busy, VERY MUCH!!!

Things took a turn for the better... I remember beating myself up for being somewhere and in something I don't belong in... Finally God has smiled on me, my research has seen a new twist and I have never been so glad. I felt like life was breathed back into me. Finally seeing the light.

That being said, I have been thinking about giving up two things.

#1 Sex.
#2 Smoking.

Yes, I know, both shockers and both tested and failed...

Sex, well yes, we all enjoy it don't we. Especially after getting hooked on to Sex and The City I was more motivated to have sex. But then again, only when I was doing it did I realise, I have yet to grow past sex without emotions. I still have to be attached to a person emotionally to feel something in bed. If I don't sex becomes monotonous (even if effort was taken to 'sex'periment), labourious and even stressful... Smoking, owh well, I am that much closer, just that much. Just wish it wasn't so 'available'. Well, I agree, no excuses. No one should justify smoking. No one. I certainly don't plan to. This addiction has to stop (or so I keep telling myself).

As for turning into a celibate, well, come on!!! Everyone masturbates right? I ain't gonna be able to give that up until everything else in my life is at peace. It's just I am falling into that God-loving facade of myself yet again. HE never lets go of me. Awakenings after awakenings. Experiences in daily life are pointing me in HIS direction. I can't even enjoy sex knowing that lust tears you away from HIM. I feel HIM, like a long lost lover knocking on my door again saying 'I love you'... Even my love for dancing is all about HIM because Indian classical dance was born right out of the Vedas. I even feel HIM typing this out.

On a lighter note, I was back home for the weekends and boy the urge to write things down hadn't reared its head so much in a long time.

First of all a funny experience. The High Priestess and me got all dressed up for a wedding reception dinner of her friend's son. She wore a lovely saree which I gushed at when I saw it sitting pretty in her room. She even spurted on the new perfume Gdaran and I bought her as a Mothers' Day gift.

Soon we were on our way, tummies aching for a buffet spread, to find the supposed venue blanketed in darkness. She forgot to bring along the invitation and so had to call another friend of hers and ask for a clarification if we were or not, in fact, in the right place. Sure enough we were, because I do not recall a duplicate of the venue in a different location. So I called the High Priest for further clarification. Proved beyond doubt was the fact that we were in the absolute correct location. I pulled the final straw. Did we have the wrong date? The High Priestess crossed her fingers and hoped against all hope that she was right. But, alas, she was dumbfounded... We were there a week ahead. I hadn't laughed at her that much since the times Cookies and Cakes used to call her 'cute' (he still thinks she's adorable).

Another incident, a night earlier, we were at The High Priestess's brother's house to wish her nephew A Happy Birthday. Unfortunately enough, we walked in during a very bad time. My uncle was yelling away at his son because they were an hour late to go to temple and he had been waiting around for him like a fool. Things were further complicated when his wife questioned him, rather seriously, why he did so. In front of us. My grandmother (which you may remember from Granny Mayhem) couldn't keep her mouth shut and ended up doing what Cookies and Cakes calls 'fighting fire with fire' and what I call 'pouring petrol on fire'. And very obviously her daughter-in-law did not overlook that and very conveniently brought it up when questioning her husband (look up any Indian serial dramas which forever host the ever-unquenchable tales of the mother-in-law vs daughter-in-law arguments, disagreements, melodrama and oh so despicable but yet so true, living with the in-laws complications; like such, it was no exception in this particular household).

Later, (post the embarrassing slip-of-mind incident with the wedding reception date), the High Prietess and I took a drive to fetch Gdaran from work (an unusual scenario because Gdaran usually drives to work in his car which, unfortunately, is sitting in a workshop as I type; repercussions of another one of those alcohol sloshing sessions; thank God this time we didn't have to frequent the hospital). While waiting for Gdaran, mom and I talked. About the drama in her brother's place, about Gdaran and his ex, about Aunt #4, about health, about God, about the right choices in life, about me and my future family (which I promptly cut off and conveniently blamed it on my studies), about The High Priest. Then  I realised something. My mom is a changed person. She is no more pushing me over the edge, she has become accepting and she is matured now more than ever. I guess all that spirituality has brought about a positive change in her. And another fact that breaks my heart is that she is lonely and I have been, through many years (in the past decade), the one confidante she has come to regard as a just, non-judgmental, ever-understanding and ever-ready to point out her sometimes erroneous actions person. At that point I told myself, I love my parents, I will be there for them till their passing. I just wish I make enough money to allow them a comfortable passing into old age and spend them the money they might need to go on that long awaited trip to the Holy Lands ('might' because my dad's retirement sum can easily rake up a comfortable life for them without either Gdaran's or my assistance). Their only worry, which in turn would be my would be my concern, is me being alone for the rest of my life. But I am sure, when that one fine day comes during which they get acquainted with God, they'll know that I was never destined to walk down that path and understand exactly why...

HaHaHa!!!

With one foot after the other he carefully paced himself.
Twice to the left and once to the right, he swung his head in opposite directions.
Any sign of fleeting concentration and he would turn back.
Distraught, he would give in.
Tired, he would bow down.

With underarms shaved closely and nicely cleaned, he was determined to tie the silver ornament around his waist lower than intended, for when he lifted his arm it wouldn't fluster the eyes that see them and that silver ornament would actually complement.
The very least he could do?
The very best he could do?
Either way, he was there.

"That has to be a little higher up," like an avalanche his surreal world came crashing down and with no trace disappeared into oblivion.
"Umph, sure, how much more?" he looked around; no less than 12 others; sitting, standing, brushing, tying. The temperature hit him.
"At least some thing would hold up," no, he wasn't saying it.
"So why exactly are we wearing the red instead of the blue?" he knew it was a distraction; to take him off the edge. It wasn't only the floors that were giving him cold feet.
"I don't know, it's his idea. I hate the colour too," the shirtless chap pointed away, just his right arm, for one brief moment and continued fiddling.
"OK, we're up!!!" the 'pointed' yelled out and walked towards the 'pointer'.
"Go!" the 'pointer' scurried off at that cue.
"You can do this ok, you're ready, just remember that out there it's all about having fun."

All about fun wasn't as fun. It was voluntary, this whole scenario, but it wasn't up to par. It wasn't as exciting or as scarcely pleasurable as advertised. Badur knew the problem.

'Expectation leads to disappointment.'

The phrase was all too clichéd for him. He often shrugged it off with cringing and 'faux' nausea. Then it struck him. The idea. Clichés happen, or they wouldn't be named so for they do, again and again.

'I miss you.'
'Listen to your heart.'
'Money can't buy happiness.'
'You dance like Britney Spears.'

They flashed like a tacky multimedia presentation, right where he could see them, intangibly.
The trinkets on his feet were starting to annoy him.
They never had done this before.

'Mangalam bhagavaane Vishnu... mangalam madhushudhanam... mangalam kundarikaaksham, mangalam garudawhaja...'

It was picking up pace now. He would finally make his grand entrance. How can he still not be ecstatic about this?

The 12 others lead way. He entered. And with a thunderous applause he saw faces looking up.
He noticed the light hitting on.
He heard the notes playing wild.
He felt his eyes staring down.
Heart rate skyrocketed.
Stomach plunged.

He grit his teeth and like before....

...with one foot after the other he carefully paced himself... 

......twice to the left and once to the right...... 

.........he swung his head in opposite directions.........

............and continued............

Now it started sinking in.
The music.
The pain in his thighs.
The numb sole of his feet.
His painted face.
The blue colour on his saree.
His bangles the 'pointer' fiddled around with.
His invaluable dancing bells.
His belt yanked high enough.
His clean underarm when he reached to pick up the illusory flower for that surreal garland.

What an idiot he had been!
He was finally an odissi dancer!
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"GET UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's 5 pm. Time for makeup!" the face of the 'pointer' became faintly visible as Badur awoke from slumber.

PS: Bet you didn't see that coming didca'???

Dear, 'Whom It May Concern',

To those whom are reading this and know my identity, minus the people whom I have readily revealed myself to AND the people whose blogs I follow without disclosure of their identity or mine;

Dear 'Whom It May Concern',

If you are a friend or a family member or someone reading this knowing my true identity, it is with greatest of  hope that I wish you respect my discretion. This blog is for me to vent out my frustration and an outlet to deal with the elevated stress levels my life has presented me over the past year. I hope you are not one to judge and I certainly hope albeit my suspicions are to be true, the truth, either way, should remain ambiguous. I do not want to know who you are. I just want the amount of privacy being anonymous (to a certain level, the very least) presents me.

PS: This is a result of mere suspicion. Nothing dramatic has happened to spur this post.

*deep breath in, deep breath out*

I am busy... 

SO busy that I am starting my days early in the morning, like at 8 am!!! 

The last time I got up that early was in first year!!! 

Undergraduate!!! 

My MSc work is pushing my limits!!!

I don't have time to take a breath let alone a social life.

I am so afraid of losing my friends because I haven't met up with so many of them in the longest time...

The only thing keeping me going is Saturdays...

My dance classes...

The one thing I look forward to every other week...

Even typing this was monumental!

Did it with literally one eye shut...

No, it is not an understatement!

But I had to...

I need to vent frustration!!!

Waiting for MSc to finish!

Dear God help me!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Lost... Completely...

I feel like a walking zombie.
I thought the worst was over.
Never knew things could get worse.
Worse than losing someone you love is losing your own self.

I am lost, now more than ever.
I keep looking up to God to give me something to move on...
It has been over a week and still nothing...
I don't know who I am, what I want, where I would like to go, how I wish my life would be.
I am lost. Totally and completely lost.
I feel like my life is at a dead-end.
I can't relate to feelings; sad, happy, love, anger, optimism, cynicism, hope, faith; all seem ambiguous...
My life seems ambiguous...

The only thing I feel is this empty space in my head and my heart; an empty space that weighs more than I can carry...

The only thing I see is a routine and a plan that I stick to for reasons I have stopped comprehending.

The only thing I hear is sound; no more music or melody.

The only people whom I care for are those close to me. Even then I don't feel for them. I just do what is socially required of me as a son/brother/friend/relative.

The only thing I sense are the tangibles that are directly or indirectly involved in the aforementioned routine.

*shrug*
*a slight maneuver of the head from left to right*
*a stare into blank space*

PS: This has got nothing to do with Married Man. He may have been a contributing factor but there is bigger picture involved. One I can't seem to paint or picture...

If Only My Ears Could Emit Steam!

Why did I believe this could happen??? Am I that desperate and needy??? As if the past week hasn't been tough on me. Now this??!!!

Ok, here's the deal... The last week has been one so frustrating that all I could do was cry!
I feel that strongest are those whom can control anger than those whom vent it out through physical violence.
So I cry.

The deeper I got into my thesis, the more I realised I don't belong where I am. I cannot relate to the things I am doing anymore. I feel numb. I am not earning much dough. I can't seem to find the time to do my exercise routines and I am putting on weight. My performance in odissi classes is dwindling. I can't focus on my work. I can't focus on where this is going and I can't focus on my life! I don't know who I am and what I want anymore.

And the more I see people around me doing better than I am, in fields of their choice, the more I become bitter about my predicament! IT IS SO BLOODY FRUSTRATING!!!

To add to this, the 24th of April came but Married Man never... 25th passed, and now it is the 26th. I guess he forgot that I existed. So I called. Just to make sure I wasn't jumping to conclusion about anything (who knows, he may have died-God forbid, he may have been sick, or he may still be in The Land of Temples, or he may be busy, or whatever valid reason for him not contacting me).

But horror of horrors, my cynical suspicion became true.
He picked up and answered in the most casual manner one could possibly sing a tone to.
My blood pressure shot up.
And again, like my cool collected self, I decided that confrontation is not the answer.
I hit the 'Call End' button.
I felt like an idiot.
And I am now, more angry than ever!!!

Angry!

I am just ANGRY!!!

For everything that has happened!

I AM ANGRY!!!

To All Lesbians, Gays, AND Transsexuals; Rejoice!!!

I read a status update on Facebook today.

By one of my seniors from my former university.

I've heard about that saying before but today an idea struck me.

The status goes something like this...

'Sure God created Man before Woman, but then again you always make a rough draft before creating the final masterpiece...'

Then the light bulb went click on my head.

First came men,

Then women,

Then the lesbians, gays and transsexuals,

Voila! We're the final product of God's most perfect!

PS: No offence to straight people, it was meant purely for the purpose of humour!

Gays, lesbians and transsexuals whom are reading this please rejoice for we're flawless!!!

Man, I wish I could tell that right to her face.

It would have silenced her female chauvinistic thoughts for good!!!

My Choices

It doesn't help to feel helpless, especially when your best friends need you...

I wish I could just drop everything and just dash off to hold a friend's hand or give him/her a hug.

I wish I had the luxury of time and space for this.

We are eternally bound by the need to fulfill our worldly duties; to our family, to ourselves, our loved ones, our friends. And priorities govern these duties. 

Like so many other people, I have always put family above everything else, sometimes even myself and my choices. Although I have always felt like that was more often than not, detrimental to achieving my utmost potential in so many ways, I stand by my choice (not always whole-heartedly). And like everything in life, it ultimately boils down to one's own choices. Every split second decision we formulate based on possibilities and consequences is exactly that; our choices. I have moaned, cried, stressed, beat myself up even, over so many things that have befallen me, all of which I recently decided was juvenile. 

Who we are, what we do, things we perceive, outcomes we expect, achievements we desire, likes we have, semblances we hate, people we love, devils we abhor; all these are more or less the manifestations of everything us. People were never designed to be blatantly categorised and and distinguished into Columns A, B and C, in fact nothing in this world was. And so, I have learned, more or less, to stand by my choices in life, which makes me, me...

I decided to blow Mr. P.

I decided to start inhaling cigarette smoke.

I decided to blow whomever I have blown so far.

I decided to take an interest in fashion and makeup.

I decided to start dance classes.

I decided to come back to my homeland to pursue my Masters Degree.

I decided to slack, in many ways.

I decided to slash my wrist once upon a time ago.

I decided to listen to my parents.

I decided to help my brother and stand by him should things go wrong.

I decided on which phone I want.

I decided to read the books I have read.

I decided to be me.

My choices and all.

I decided.

I stand by my choices and will try to never complain, because I made them.

Because I wanted to!

Drugged!

I remembered one very vivid scenario from my childhood as the common cold viral onset started bugging me earlier today. I have had body temperature so high that I would sometimes go delirious when I was younger. There were times I saw thorns growing out of my blanket, my room space getting smaller (I am not claustrophobic) and thoughts that my uncle was an illegitimate child (I always wondered where that came from).

But one experience stood the test of time and still haunts me. Mom told me later when I regained consciousness of the real world that I was standing naked in the living hall mumbling something like, "avange enna panrange veliye, avangale pogeh sollenggeh!!!" Translated, "what are those people doing outside, ask them to leave!" Thank God only mom was around and I was probably only 13 or 14 years old. The tale progressed with her rushing me into the bathroom and drenching me in cold water. I still do not remember anything about it all except when the cold water was trickling down my face it felt like the planet Earth was being washed down the side of my face, through my shoulders and into the gutter! Epic, I know!

Although generally healthy a person, I've always had problems getting over a cold. Coughing would continuously disturb my slumber, I would wake up every other morning with the back of my throat just clogged with phlegm, sometimes it would be smeared with blood and this would go on for about a week and a half in most instances. I would become almost immobile the first two or three days and to make matters worse, flatulence would make my stomach bloat and cause a sufficient amount of discomfort.

No, I am not HIV+ as I have discovered quite recently and not had sex since then.

I don't even know why I am writing about this when I have more exciting news in the bag.

After my last entry, that very day (7th April), my varsity's Indian Cultural Society was having it's annual Cultural Show. I hadn't planned on going but then Married Man suddenly calls me;

Married Man: Are you coming for the show?
Hdaran: No, it's too far away and I don't have transport. (the show wasn't held in the university because its main hall was under renovation)
Married Man: I thought you said you would be there? Come la!
Hdaran: No, I don't think so, besides, I am not even performing.
Married Man: I am. I am doing the opening performance.
Hdaran: WHAT??? Why didn't you tell me earlier???
Married Man: Well, since you said you were coming I thought it would be a surprise. So, are you coming?
Hdaran: I'll try.

So I did. After his group of dancers (alongside him) were done performing I went backstage to congratulate him.

Guess what, I met The Wife and The Daughter.

TERRIFYING!!! I KNOW!!!

But in reality it wasn't.

The wife was nice and his dancers were about their own business. I mean who wouldn't feel uncomfortable with a stranger in the room being introduced by your dance master? The daughter was adorable and his wife had such a beautiful smile on. I was introduced as an odissi dancer (I am, aren't I?) which justified the reason for me knowing him as a 'friend'.

But before all this happened, the first thing he did upon seeing me was, walk out of the dressing room and hug me. Indescribable! That feeling of being in the arms of someone you want to be in! I hanged out for a while with him and as he left he told me that he was leaving for the The Land of Temples the day after next. With one last hug, I stood there, high with feel-good hormones, drugged and light, as he drove off.

The Dream became but a distant dream.
I made my way back to my car.
24th of April seems so far away; would I be able to go on without this addiction till then?