Scones…all of a sudden!

Something I’ve wanted to eat, so desperately, every time I read an Enid Blyton book.

Scones, warm and buttery, shared over an evening tea.
Scones, warm and buttery, topped with strawberry jam and a dollop of cream, shared by friends in their garden shed.
Scones, warm and buttery, filled with the goodness of blueberries, wolfed down by hungry girls after a lacrosse match!
Scones, warm and buttery, relished while perched on the strong boughs of the Faraway Tree!

As a 12-year-old living in Trivandrum of the late 90s, scones were something that could only be savoured in my imagination! I imagined the taste, the texture, the softness, the pure joy. I imagined it to look inviting and appealing. I imagined having it at one of my school parties after final exams. I imagined unpacking a box of scones during a school excursion. I have imagined a lot of scones, in short 😀

After about 7-8 years, I found something in a bakery, which the owner told me was a  Cream Scone. I jumped at it, bought one, bit into with much joy and immediately spat out and threw from my hand 😀 Yuck. “These aren’t scones“, I told him indignantly. It was just something shaped like an ice-cream cone, filled with sugary cream. Uuuugh. It was not warm, not buttery, and definitely not soft. And, did not look in the least fancy!

In time, I forgot about them. Then, after the Internet age dawned and flourished, every time I came across the word scones, I always meant to look it up, but never managed to.

Until last Thursday,  11th October 2018 (yes, verrrrrrrrrry late, I know!), when I opened my blog, saw a reply to a comment I left in another blog on Enid Blyton books and was hit by the thought of warm buttery scones! I immediately went on Google to look for images of scones and went “EH!?”

I guess despite telling the shopkeeper what he gave me wasn’t a scone, I might have expected scones to actually be shaped like a cone and have jam and butter filling 😀 Or, at least to look more fancy. These pics did not look fancy at all! Well, not the scones by themselves (though the accompaniments made the whole photograph pretty colourful and bright). They didn’t look warm or buttery or soft. Maybe I imagined it all wrong and simply craved for the wrong thing all these years. Blow Enid Blyton and her art of converting the mundane into yummilicious awesomeness!

Yesterday, Sunday, a colleague returned to work from his 3-week Canadian vacation and told us how he learnt from his aunt to make…yes, scones! What a coincidence. To this, another colleague went “Oooh, really? I’ve always wanted to taste a scone.” And, there I interjected and dashed her dreams using my new-found knowledge on scones, saying it’s not as fancy as it sounds, it is a flat, squarish thing and “looks more like an egg puff with no egg inside” 😛 And she goes “Really? I thought it was like a cone-shaped something, creamy and sweet“. And then, accompanied by nods from the new scone chef, I proceeded to tell her how it’s made and how quick and simple the whole process is, and most importantly how it is not shaped like a cone.

And today, Monday, I ate my first ever scone! And, while it looked exactly as scones look, the dear little thing definitely lived up to every bit of my imagination.

It was warm, buttery, soft and oh-my-good-lord-delicious! ❤

And now, I feel like an entire era has come to an end 😉 The Age of the Scones is officially over!

My school that never was…

even remotely close to Malory Towers: the dream school, one of Enid Blyton’s best creations. And, how I’ve longed to be there!

I came across Malory Towers first when I was a 4th of 5th Std student, standing patiently by my cousin as she rummaged in her mom’s trunk at home, looking for “some Enid Blyton books you might like”. I saw a neat stack on books on one side, the topmost one titled “First term at Malory Towers”. Hardbound, with a most inviting cover picture. Yet, I took only the two books my cousin lent me—The Faraway Tree and The Enchanted Wood—and went my way. “Finish these and I’ll lend you the next set”, said she.

Well, in all probability, 2-3 days later, I went back for the next set. I was a fast, voracious reader (I still am). If I start on a book, I hate to stop in between. There was a time when my cousin used to take me to the lending library every 14 days during my summer holidays, because the minimum lending period without fine was 14 days. And, I would always take away 13 books every once in 14 days, much to the librarian’s initial wonder and later chagrin 😀 But, I digress.

So, yes, I must have been all of 10 when I got my hands on the Malory Towers series…and I was thoroughly lost in that world. The dormitories, the common room, the classrooms, the swimming pool, the games courts, the stable, the dining room. The pantomimes, the plays, the lessons, the tricks, the midnight feasts. The friends, the foes, the jealousies, the pity, the scorn, the sarcasm, the fun, the friendships, the evolving characters. Darrel, Alicia, Sally, Irene, Belinda, Gwen, Mavis, Betty, Daphane, Mary-Lou, Bill and Clarissa. And the other girls who came in one term and left later for various reasons. The headmistress, the mistresses, the support staff. The parents.

The book went through Darrel Rivers’ six years at boarding school, before she went off to University. So, at the end of the series, I counted back and realised that The First Term would be her Std 7 😀 And, in two years from then, I myself would be in Std 7 🙂 What joy if we could have half that fun!

Cut to my school.

My own school life was totally different. I was in a mixed school, a day-school, which had classes from Lower KG right up till Std 12. A most horrible man for Principal and a horde of teachers who believed that teaching was all about terrorising kids. Well, at Stds 5 and 6, we were considered too little for the teachers to take notice of us. I don’t remember bad times during then. So, these things didn’t quite affect us either. But when I look back now at Stds 8 and above, I have no good memories of that school. No good memories of amazing teachers. No good memories that ever made me want to go back there as an alumni.

Over 90% of our teachers, teaching in a co-ed school as they did, were completely loathe to seeing boys and girls interacting. And especially so for Stds 9 and above. There was to be no gender mixes in friendships, girls were not to be seen with boys and vice-versa, and had no hold over their (often in bad taste) runaway tongues. And, it did not help one bit that I was every bit a tomboy and had more male friends than females.

There was favouritism of the highest order. I was a good singer, but there were already other tenured singers who went their way up from Lower KG. I was a fresh face from Std 5. In a singing competition, they initially announced the 1st prize for me, saw one of the tenured singers burst into tears…and promptly shifted the award in her name. I was taken aside and told “You know you are a better singer, we all think so. But see, we can’t make her miserable because she’s always won it till now. As long as you know you are better, what does an award matter?” And the second, third and consolation prizes all went the usual ones who would receive them before I joined the school. I was a mere 10-year-old, who felt extremely hurt and insulted, and vowed to never sing in that school again 😀

Through Stds 6, 7, 8 and 9, I remember the extreme animosity between boys and girls in our classes…mainly because our teachers hated to see any unity and always made remarks to the likes of “Girls of this class are…” and “Boys of this class are…”, generalising every single incident, even if it only included one or two individuals. And, students were always at fault. Anyone who weren’t 1st, 2nd or 3rd rank holders in each class were too “useless and dumb” in their eyes. On hindsight, those days, I used to hate the boys in my class because their animosity (egged on by our teachers) were quite visible and continuous. And vice-versa. And, at the same time, most of my closest friends were my brother’s friends—boys who were 2 years elder to me—and other boys who were neighbours! Yet, not a single male friend did I have in my own class. Years of this had tuned us to hate classmates of the opposite gender.

It was while I was in Std 10 that we had a most lovely and able man for a Principal, one who looked at things from the students’ point of view as well. And, it was in that year that I, breaking out of my girls-only-cocoon, made friends with some boys in the class. And, instantly, became a sore spot in the eyes of my teachers. A series of horrible things happened, but we as a group went through them like they didn’t matter. But one day, all hell broke loose when our History teacher, who was known as the terror of the school, injustly accused my friend for something I did. She marched into class, and started abusing both of them, in front of 35 other startled boys and girls. I was seething, but my friend told me to let it go, that she was happy to take the blame. But when that horrible woman then started being downright vulgar in her “character assessment”, I flew into an absolute rage. In front of that same startled classroom, I put her violently in her place. I told her she was a disgrace to the entire teaching community, to the women community and to human community, the way her mind works. I no longer remember what exactly I told her, but my tirade was so loud and strong, she was speechless. When I was done, still trembling with rage, she said “I’ll report you to the principal and have you expelled”, to which I said “Not if I get to him before you do”. I marched into the Principal’s office, narrated the entire incident, and owned up to having yelled at a teacher. He heard me out patiently and as she barged in a while later with a group of her close allies (equally horrible disgraces to all those aforementioned communities), he made her apologise to me. Oh, how she hated me, for the entire school heard about this and she was no longer a terror. Earlier, boys and girls in conversation would flee in separate directions if someone so much as whispered that the History teacher was coming their way—because she could not stand the sight of a boy and a girl talking outside class. After this incident, the minute someone spotted her, they would grab the nearest person from the opposite gender and start a loud happy conversation. Well, I did not wish for any of this to happen, I only stood up for what I thought was right that day. But, she hated me for ruining her ‘aura’. She cursed me in front of my classmates before we went for our Std 10 board Exams, telling me I’d fail pathetically in my exams and be a disgrace to my family and myself, and that I’d never reach anywhere. She said “The curse of a teacher is the worst and will always come true. You just wait!” She also carved into one of the school walls the absolutely miserable marks I would score. It was with immense pleasure that I went to meet her when the results were announced, taking her to that very wall and showing her that her stupid predictions didn’t come true, for I’d passed with flying colours. The last thing I said to her was “You’ve to be a ‘genuine teacher’ for a ‘teacher’s curse’ to come true.” And, strangely, I felt no guilt, for that woman genuinely deserved no respect! That Principal didn’t last their long, of course. The post was taken over by one we could call a rubber-stamp, and the aforementioned teachers ruled the roost.

In Stds 11 and 12, school turned out to be a nightmare for most of us, especially for me, no thanks to my “history” with the History teacher. And anyone who dared to be my friend was treated with the same contempt 🙂 Which only brought out the worst in us. The Math teacher HATED us enough to screw up her face in disgust if she saw us: because some of us weren’t so good in Math. My best friend was a genius in Math – she couldn’t lose even a single mark, even if she tried. She was always, every single day, scorned for being friends with the rest of us ‘brainless idiots’. I mean, if teachers scorn the kids who are weak in their subject of expertise and keep focusing on kids who excel in it, what’s the use of being a “teacher”? I was the English teacher’s delight, but she had more allegiance to her colleagues (especially the Math and Biology teachers) and did her best to appear disinterested and disappointed in me for being no good in Math! Except for two of us, the majority of the gang were in the Biology teacher’s class…and owing to her allegiance to the Math and English teachers, she made life hell for those friends of ours.

Everyday, there was some punishment or the other. There was one insult or the other. There was one cutting remark (of mental prowess, lack of parental guidance, of all the kids in the world, why you) or the other. And, all of these made us more and more rebellious. We cared more about pissing these women off and ruining their days than about studying and scoring high marks in school. (On hindsight, I’m sooo not proud of this!) And thankfully, none of us ever failed in any exams. Subjects that we were weak in, we would still scrape by but never fail. Much to the chagrin of those teachers. And since we wouldn’t fail and they couldn’t demand that we bring in our parents, they finally came up with stories about how all of us were in relationships and those relationships were the sole reason we were turning up in school every day and how despicably wayward we were. We were 3 girls and 5 guys in the group. I’m surprised they didn’t say we were in multiple relationships! 😛 The Math teacher, my class teacher, called my parents to school once and blasted the living daylights out of them for bringing up a girl so badly, for being irresponsible parents and for letting their horrible daughter take their trust for granted. She told my parents I was in a relationship with my friend, who was an orphan and had no good means of living. This same woman who had hated my brother while he was in school, now praised him skyhigh and said “Why can’t your daughter be a bit like her brother at least? He was such a nice student, such a nice boy.” Hurt as they were, after a meltdown at home later that evening, my parents saw sense when I explained it all clearly. I even offered to call up the boy’s house and have my parents talk to his, for he was no orphan! And, the absolute surprise (followed by scorn and bellowing laughter) on my brother’s face at the praise he seemingly received seemed to explain more about the true colours of that teacher to my parents. And in stark contrast, my professors in the University absolutely loved me, and once called my parents to college during my final year. The previous time my teachers called my parents, it was a horrible day for them, so my Mom was sure she was in for another earful of abuse about her daughter. When the Head of my Department said “Your daughter is our true hope of a rank for our college”, my mother actually had a BP rise out of sheer surprise and sort of fainted! ROFL. 

In all this, within and outside of school I did have a lot of fun with my friends, but I’ll only remember those days for the fun I had with them and never for the school life that’s supposed to be some of the best times in a child’s life. It was fun we had DESPITE the school being so horrible. When I look back today, I’m not thoroughly pleased at how we rebelled, but at that point, that seemed the only sensible thing to do. I recently spoke to some of the more mellow, “good students” (esp in the eyes of these very horrible teachers), and none of them seem to look back at that school life fondly. I was only too glad to get out of there, never to go back. I’ve received a few Alumni meet invitations, but I turned down everyone of them. And, I will continue to do that. Sometimes, I do wish my parents had admitted me into some other school, but I guess I turned out the way I am because of all that the school threw at me. I may have scored higher marks in another school with less of this bullshit, but I may have been a completely different person today.

So, why did I go down memory lane with a long post about a school life I hated? Because the past week, as a 33-year-old, I went back to reading Malory Towers 😀 And nothing seems to have changed in the past 20+ years, for how I longed to be there! How I wished my school life had been simpler, more fun and more meaningful. How I wished I ha fabulous memories to share today. How I wished I had not been a student in my beastly school (and still see it as a place that did me no good and one I’d never return to) and had been to one that was at least half as fun as Malory Towers! How I wish my school-time memories were far more beautiful than they ever will be. And, how I wish the beastly women who taught in that school had taken up alternate careers that were faaaaaaar removed from teaching and schools and kids. Sigh.

For the love of TEAvana

One of the good things that happened with my move to Kuwait was the introduction of several big brand names into my life: names I had only hitherto read in books or seen/heard on TV. And, we’re talking about brands such as Pottery Barn, Harvey Nichols, The Cheesecake Factory, Debenhams, Nyx, Footlocker, American Eagle Outfitters, The Body Shop, Charlotte Tillbury, Victoria’s Secret, P.F. Chang’s, &OtherStories, William Sonoma, Boots, Solaris, Kidzania, Starbucks, Bath&BodyWorks, Jack Wills, Texas Roadhouse, Milano and West Elm…to name just a few. While I knew that I was entitled to an employee discount at all of the brands we operate – over 90 of them – what I didn’t know was that, even with a 30% employee discount, I wouldn’t be able to afford half of the stuff from most of these brands 😛

Yet, I went about exploring what each one had to offer. Except for some of the Food brands, I found none that called out to me. Well, except PotteryBarn, but I’m not paid enough for that 😛 Still, it was fun to recall some of the names I’ve read in the Shopaholic series of books and marvel at how I didn’t have to be in Paris or New York to be able to pop into some of these stores, touch and feel them, look at the price tags, let out a deep sigh and walk away, thanking my stars that I did not have a credit card and wasn’t a shopaholic like Becky Bloomwood.

A couple of weeks after I joined and settled in, my kind manager took me on a tour of the The Avenues, the one-stop shop for all our brands…and more. And, the one that absolutely caught my fancy? TEAVANA. I’d never heard of it before (yes, I hadn’t!) and I was stunned at the rows and rows of different flavours of tea that filled up this most beautiful store! My my, how could there even be that many teas!? The sales girl won me over by allowing me to taste several of their teas, after each of which I excitedly exclaimed “How lovely! I like this one better than the last!” Trust me, I had no clue which was which and if she was giving me the same tea over and over again 😛

I don’t think my manager had ever seen me that excited before and told me we had more stores to cover. I gave no heed and was going about enjoying another ‘taster’ cup of yet another lovely tea, when he actually told the sales girl to stop taking me on a tea-high and wheeled me about. And, that’s when my eyes fell on the B.E.A.U.T.I.F.U.L. Japanese tea sets: in cast iron and porcelain. I gave out a squeal and he nearly spilled his tea in fright. He laughed at me saying “My life! I should never have brought you here!”

It was love at first sight. And it was a relationship that would never work out. because they were ridiculously expensive. Yet, from then on, every time I went to The Avenues, I would pass by the Teavana store, longing for a cast iron tea set and wishing it up on me.

It took 22 months for the universe to conspire in my favour. Ok who am I kidding!? The universe had nothing to do with it (because it’s just some bullshit Paulo Coelho came up with to make money off his book!) and that’s not how the Universe functions. Bah!

Two things worked in my favour:

1. My unabashed and repetitive proclamation of love for the Teavana tea set, letting all my colleagues know that if they were ever at a loss about what to gift me, they should always remember the Teavana Cast Iron tea set 😀
2. The arrival of Hobbes into my life and his decision to stay forever ❤

So, there was to be a celebration and the colleagues were to get me a gift. The top boss killed all ideas of vouchers and gift cards and said “get her something that she’d love to keep forever”.

They planned it through a whole week. One person booked a meeting with me to discuss “Communications Next Steps” for one of the projects and suggested we meet in the cafeteria instead of at our desks. As we walked into the cafeteria, I saw a group of people who are all my friends but never really group together…and they were awkwardly silent, looking to the other side, standing around a table. And I casually remarked to my meeting partner “That’s a strange bunch over there. Are they having a silent prayer or something?” So, when I realised they were all waiting for me, it was a pleasant surprise!

My erstwhile manager then congratulated me and spoke about how happy I looked and how Hobbes and I are great together, and so on. And in the middle of his talk, one of them who was leaning on the table moved aside and I glimpsed a ribbon-wrapped box, with a name that made me squeal that same squeal from 22 months ago, much to his amusement.

Again, unabashed, I started hopping and jumping in such child-like excitement that he wrapped his speech and told me to open the box.

And that’s how this Limited Edition Teavana Gold Imperial Dragon Cast Iron Tea Set found its way unto me! 

❤

❤

❤

❤

❤

When I reached home, I unwrapped it again, took pics and wrapped it all back up! About time I get back to my senses and actually have some tea from my precious tea-pot!

Teavana, acquired by Starbucks, is in the process of being shutdown the world over and they no longer produce these. So, Teavana tea-ware have now become truly collector’s items! Added joy to self 😉

My first circus…

I remember seeing of circuses in movies – The Bombay Circus, The Gemini Circus and some others – and wondered when I would get to see one. Then I grew up some more and would hear friends talking about having seen a circus or two and what fun it was…and I wondered when I would get to see one. Then I grew up even more and got all passionate about animals and their welfare…and absolutely HATED the idea of a circus. I was glad I never saw one ever!

Then on, any time I saw of a circus via movies, all I could see was the pathetic looks, body language and the absolutely broken spirits of those animals. Each time we saw of it together, I’d always tell Hobbes I’ve never seen one and I don’t want to…and the discussion would end in animal abuse, how human aren’t humane and what not.

So, when Hobbes suggested we go for a circus, my first thought was “Errr…what!?” And then I went on to the link he shared and it looked good. I grudgingly agreed, stating “I hope the animals won’t be abused”. To which he said, there aren’t any animals, just a couple of horses…and they all look well kept!” And I got all excited because I looooove horses.

My first circus was not when I was 3, not even when I was 13. It was last week, I was all of 33 and I was just as enthralled as I would have been if I were just 3 or 13! 🙂

My first circus was The Golden Age Circus, and what an incredible experience it was! It was sheer magic, some of the acts. Some of them sheer beauty. And some, just downright dangerous-looking-adrenaline-rising acrobatics! Two hours of an evening well spent! 🙂

And those horses…my goodness. They were absolutely shining, with lovely flowing manes, and looked extremely well fed and looked after! ❤ Granted, their training might include some harsh times, but I could see no broken spirit in them. And, the acts were simple and fun…nothing earth-shattering that the horses would have had to go through hell for. I would like to believe they haven’t gone through any mistreatment the way we’d expect bears and tigers and elephants to be in a circus, because horses are like dogs, aren’t they…ever ready to please their human partners. And they do love a bit of dance themselves! Very evident in the “Dancing and Prancing” video below…look at that beauty, just loving the “first one leg stretch, then other leg stretch” walk! ❤ Loved, loved, absolutely loved them. I reallllllllly wanted to follow them backstage and tell them how amazing they are!

Words won’t do justice, so I won’t attempt to write about each show/act. Here are some videos I took.

Double Chocolate Treat (Horses)   |    Somersaults on a Horsie   |   Dancing and Prancing (Horse)
Motors in a Deathly Bubble   |   Four Floating Fairies   |   A Super Scary Balance

There were several more, which I did not capture on camera. If these guys ever come around to where you live, please do book yourself a ticket! You won’t regret it.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

My first circus was an experience I’ll remember for a long time to come.

****** ❤ ******

Below’s what the website for the circus had, as an event description. I’ve copied it verbatim, for I believe after March 31, the page might no longer be accessible.

Since its earliest days, the circus has stood as a symbol for the world in which we live. A fantasy land where imagination knows no bounds and where frontiers simply do not exist, it is where tradition meets innovation to weave together a colorful tapestry of artistic creativity. It speaks a universal language that has captivated and enthralled audiences around the world for well over a century.

The Touristic Enterprises Company (TEC) and Cirque Madona Bouglione invite you to take a magical journey through time and space, to see the beauty and wonder of our world through the eyes of the circus.

This spellbinding spectacle will feature more than a dozen of the world’s finest circus performance acts, who will set out to captivate your senses with a breathtaking medley of circus art, music, technology and sheer fantasy.

This is the circus reimagined; an entertainment extravaganza created exclusively for Kuwait.

This is “The Golden Age”.

The fabulous world of Le Cirque Bouglione
The Cirque Bouglione has a long history in the proud and whimsical tradition of the circus.

The story originally began in Paris in 1907 with the four Bouglione brothers. Driven by their passion for creativity and performance arts, the Bougliones were true pioneers in the circus world, creating audacious, mesmerizing and completely captivating extravaganzas that enthralled audiences for decades.

Today the Bouglione legacy lives on through Madona Bouglione, daughter of the eldest Bouglione brother and founder of the circus. Although deeply rooted in the time-honored tradition of the circus, Madame Bouglione also has a profound fascination with innovation and technology.

With a clear artistic vision and a true love for the performing arts, Madona Bouglione brings together the enchantment of the past with the thrill of the future to create her one-of- a-kind spectacles. Each show features a true menagerie of artists and performers; from acrobats and dancers, to singers and actors, to mimes and the beloved clowns that symbolize the very-essence of the circus.

Welcome to the new era of the circus.

A journey through time…
an experience to enthrall the senses and dazzle the imagination…
The circus has always held a special place in the world of entertainment. A fantasy land where imagination knows no bounds, it has long enthralled audiences.

Yet, what many people do not know is that the circus has always been a birthplace of innovation and new discoveries. From its earliest days, it served as a magical window into fascinating worlds and new experiences. In fact, it was at the circus that many people first came into contact with electricity, or first saw the magnificent and magical creation that is film, or even first discovered an elephant or a giraffe.

In “The Golden Age”, Cirque Bouglione and TEC invite you to take a journey through time and space, to live through a brief snapshot of world history…as told through the eyes of a circus. It is an entertainment extravaganza created exclusively for Kuwait.

This spellbinding journey will feature more than a dozen of the world’s finest circus performance acts, who will set out to captivate your senses with a breathtaking medley of circus art, music, technology and sheer fantasy.

This is the circus reimagined, for an experience unlike anything Kuwait has ever seen.

Day 29: Me for him, or him for me?

I don’t know if he got it from me or if I got it from him,
but the clownishness was apparent from a very early age!

From finding joy in a laundry bag, as a puppy…

And quite literally growing out of it.

To get on to beds and couches, and be in his hilarious and outrageous poses…

❤ Pumbaa Nayar: The Clown of My Heart  ❤

❤

I don’t know if he got it from me or if I got it from him,
the spirit of playing the fool, being utterly goofy, and still be joy of many lives!

Like packing himself in for a trip…

…attempting a career in Accenture’s Security Team, trying to pass off with my id card!

And mistaking a watch for a paw-cuff and staying absolutely still till it was taken off 😀

❤ Pumbaa Nayar: The Joy of My Life  ❤

❤

I don’t know if it was his decision or mine…
to be the keeper of all secrets, giver of much warmth,
be companion for days good and bad,
shouldering worries and wiping tears
and being the ultimate promise of love and togetherness.

❤ Pumbaa Nayar: The Promise of Love & Togetherness  ❤

❤

Day 23: Good things = Amazing people

So, in my previous post, I spoke about how I had to do a wardrobe rehaul, very unhappily.

Let me explain.

I’m the kind of shopper that walks into a clothes store knowing exactly what it is that I need. I go straight to that department, get what I want and leave. Yes, that’s me. And that’s all the patience I have for shopping. I don’t window shop, I don’t ‘just’ browse inside a shop, and I never stay on longer than I absolutely need to.

My “shopping” normally lasts 15-30 minutes (including a trial), and that’s depending on how long the line at the cashier is. Any more than 45 minutes, and I normally leave whatever I picked up and get the hell out, planning to come back later in the middle of a weekday! In my 31 years of existence, I’ve never had a shopping spree, till the time I had to go shopping for western formals, a category I knew NOTHING about, with none other than the Queen of Subtlety and (self-declared, but totally justified) Fashionista! And not once, but twice! 🙄

Since she had never seen me in western formals ever, she offered to help me shop on ONE condition: I should try out everything she would pick for me.  And boy, did she have fun! I think she took it as her opportunity to torture me by getting out of my jeans and chequered shirt and sneakers…making me get in an out of  everything I used to roll my eyes at earlier.

The first time, we shopped for over two hours.  TWO bloody hours! I tried on at least 11 pieces of formal clothing! And I had to come out each time, let her pass judgement and then go back and come out in the next. Trust me, after just 2-3 times of that, I was exhausted and wanting to leave, but no! I didn’t buy all 11 of those, of course. Which meant my wardrobe was still a million miles from being even quarter-full. At the end of it though, I wanted to cry like a baby and say “I want to go hoooooooome!” I didn’t do that, but the sweetheart that she is, she took me to a nice little place and bought me pancakes and omelette. Such joy after all that torture. 😛

Before I left for home, she said “You do know this isn’t over, right? We need to get you more stuff.” And I mumbled and said I would let her know when I’m ready. She will kill me for this, but I vaguely recall throwing a tantrum at home saying “I hate shopping, I don’t want to go!” and sulking about an hour before I was supposed to meet her for Round 2. And, I may have even considered cooking up a story to postpone the shopping meet.  But yeah – I could not be a baby. I was off to a foreign country, having to wear totally “foreign” clothes. I had to get the best help.

The next time, we shopped for over 4 hours (!!) and she made me try on at least (I kid you not) 25 pieces of formal clothing (or was it 40?!).  At the end of it…well, honestly, I now don’t remember how that day ended! It was some serious brain damage for me. Phew! I can safely say that she had more fun (I say this because she was fully excited explaining the shopping stories to a few other friends while I barely wanted to talk about it!), and totally at my expense–pun intended, considering how much money I spent in one day. They all had 4-digit price tags!!! Jesus — how does the average person afford all this?  I would not even remotely be exaggerating if I say in just a day I spent more than I spent my entire lifetime buying clothes.  Good Lord! Not to mention how she took every chance to thupp at my sneakers and jeans and say “Bwahahaha” 🙄 Oh, she also made me buy the girly, snug-fit, narrow-legged jeans I used to thupp at once up on a time (because I used to only wear straight-fit, ‘boy’ jeans)!

And then I did something REALLY stupid. I told a colleague of mine that the WIFE was doing this. And I said this to this darling girl who is a total shopaholic. She went ballistic that I did not include her in that experience. And demanded I share pictures of everything I bought. Sigh. Which I did. And she went “Here I am, hoping she would have bought you all kinds of clothes to make you look like a doll. Instead, you bought trousers and shirts!?” 😦

She took it up on herself to buy me western dresses that would make me look like a doll. Actually, she told me I should have bought skirts and summer dresses and all that 🙄 And I may have mentioned I don’t know what to buy and that if she wanted to help, she was free to do so. Well, though I said “help”, I meant “do it for me, I’m not interested” 😀 And she still took it seriously! 🙂

It was absolute madness and quite funny. She proceeded to spend hours and hours on Myntra site, looking at dresses, shortlisting, all that and I would take no more than two minutes to to look at them all (about 20 at a time :P) and say “Too short” “Too costly” “No sleeves” “Too colorful”. She would tell me to sit with her and look through the site…and I would just say “I have work!”

God. So much money that darling girl spent on her Internet charges 😛 Finally, she told me to just shut up and wear the ones she would order for me! And she ordered and ordered and ordered. In fact, we had a team member who was an ex-Myntra employee and had a huge discount card she could use anytime. We made her do the actual “order placing” on the site, using coupons and everything. It finally became a big project needing a lot of coordination and feedback and “tweaks”, that we had to start a WhatsApp group only for this! By the end of this, I’m pretty sure the darling girl even knew the SKU numbers by heart. And the ex-Myntra girl–such a darling–sat up late into the nights, ordering, raising return requests and ordering again! 🙂

Since we both had to go to office, and there was no one at my home to collect when delivered, we gave her home address. Her mother went completely bonkers, opening the door every 2-3 times, every single day for the next 2 weeks, to collect packages from a Myntra delivery guy each time! Normally Myntra delivery guys call in advance to ask address, route, etc. After 2 days of multiple deliveries, just about everyone at Myntra knew her house 😛 And they even stopped demanding that someone open the door to collect. If her mom was late to reach the door, she would often find a package dropped in through the window! 😀

She would then bring the dresses to office next day, make me try them on. After a point, I lost track of the number of dresses I tried–of which, few I kept and returned most 😛 The good thing was that they were all in 3 digits. She then demanded I take a day off and go to her house with my entire purchase (including what the WIFE helped buy) to do a trial + mix-and-match session.

Though they all had fun shopping for me, I did not enjoy it at alllllll. I was confident I would never pull those off. And hated how happy the WIFE and the darling girl were while I was in utter despair!

Till the time I reached here, got into a pair of trousers, a formal shirt, a blazer and a pair of formal shoes and felt just fine. Till I wore one of the dresses with a pair of pretty shoes and felt just fine. Till I saw myself in a skinny jeans, a proper ‘girl’ top and a pair of flat shoes and felt just fine.

So totally fine that even today, after 7 months, I’m just as grateful to these two as I was on Day 1 at my new job 🙂 ❤

(But, I still wait eagerly for my Thursdays to be in jeans and T-shirts, and once in a while I do go back to my ‘boy jeans’ and sneakers and chequered shirts! Such contentment those days, I tell you! Only, since no one knows my tomboyishness here, which doesn’t even seem possible in all my very lady-like attire, I siffer rfom a major identity crisis! I fit in so well with the larger (and always well-dressed British crowd, but I miss the me I would happy being. Sigh. And before you thupp at me for saying this, dear WIFE, think of how you’d feel having to go to work in a salwar-kameez every day. Ha! )

As for where I got all that money to “splurge” with absolute abandon on a wardrobe I wasn’t even sure I would like? I will just say I have AMAAAAAAAAZING people in my life who let me redeem all those accumulated credit card points as Marks&Spencer and Shoppers Stop vouchers. Basically, my wardrobe came to me fully filled, fully free 🙂 I’ll never stop being grateful to you for that! ❤

Day 17: WIFE!

The Queen of Subtlety and I were talking today on Skype. We were catching up on good old days and having the usual banter, when she said…

do you know i read about all you other friends on your blog and get so jealous
ppffftt…
best friend, this friend, college friend…that friend…uuugh
i want to write a big board and say WIIIFFEEEE!!

I told her she is the only friend of the above mentioned categories to have an entire post on her and multiple mentions across several other posts. And then I thanked her for giving me a topic for today. I said I’d put up a pic of her and put a board saying WIFE! Since I don’t wish to die for the mere reason of having publicised a photo she then would kill me for, because she doesn’t look good in it, I stuck to just putting up a board title – WIFE!

Let me clarify the “Wife”, before any of you have wild imaginations. So, I’m this tomboy I’ve told you about several times. I’m constantly in jeans, T-shirts (or chequered shirts, mostly in blues!) and a pair of running shoes. She takes the word “Queen” and “Princess” quite literally at times and goes to the other extreme of being a completely pretty and mostly hot girl! She hates my boyish attire, and I don’t really care about her’s (pretty or otherwise) 😛 I’m constantly pulling her leg and responding with “No, I won’t/can’t /don’t” to just about everything she says. She tries to shower her love on me (sometimes quite literally in the form of tea, biscuits, curds, and whatnots 🙄 ), with hugs and I wriggle out of it with my classic “Ugh, get off me!” expressions 😀  She says “I love yaaaa” and I go “Yeah OK whatever 🙄 ” She tries to (in jest) be the damsel in distress and I tell her to cut the crap. She is absolutely bonkers about the colour pink and I make it a point to tell her every time just how much I hate pink (aaand that she should cut the crap). She calls me Jack (short for jackass, nothing fancy) and I return the love in titanic proportions by calling her Rose! Despite all these, I love her and will always be there for her, and I do think she loves me too 😉

After a few months of this behavioural exchanges, an ex-colleague (well, all three of us are ex-colleagues now!) said that while we’re supposedly best friends, we totally behave like Husband and Wife, where she is the nagging wife and I’m the no-nonsense husband 😛 😛 😛  And that stuck. To the point that my brother has her number saved in his contacts list as “Mrs Priya” 😛

Hence, the title. And the jealousy 😛 Long distance relationships are tough! I miss the wifey!

Day 10: My greatest support system

What we come to call as “support system” usually are parents, siblings, relatives and the friends you categorise as “best friends”. They’re the ones you can fall back on, without having to feel bad about doing so, knowing full well you’ll be taken care of, even though it is not an entitlement. Only, you sometimes end up taking that for granted. If not the people, then at least the fact that there WILL be a support system.

Until you move out of all your familiarities and face a whole new world.

There is this girl who was my classmate during post-graduation. We were a pretty close-knit class of just 15 students. She was one of the sweetest in the class. She had none of the recklessness I had in me; she had none of the popularity, the stupefying clownness, the annoying self-righteousness, the frustrating over-confidence or the plain damsel-in-distressness that the rest of her classmates had. She was a simple, Mamma’s girl. She did not bunk classes, she did not do anything she feared her parents wouldn’t be proud of, she did not even hate the person who made her everyday life a living hell 😛 I hated that person on her behalf 😛 She was just a very sweet, happy person. I would always remember her as someone who vowed not to get married, but would adopt a girl child because she was fabulous with kids.

But I wouldn’t say she was in my best friend category at that time. Her constant company made it rather difficult for me to figure out how much I could like her 😛 After college life came to an end and we all went our separate lives, though, she and I became much closer. She got married, had a baby girl — and every once in a while, we used to have video chats, where I gurgled to the baby in her own unspoken language. We were pretty pretty close.

And then, I went into hibernation. For about 3-4 years. Our conversations became thrice in a year; once for her birthday, once for mine, and once for Christmas / New Year 😛

When I moved to Kuwait in March 2016, a lot of people assumed I have half my family here (you know all those jokes about half of every Malayali lives in the “Gelf”). I therefore drew a lot of surprise when I said I don’t have anyone in Kuwait. No relatives? Not even friends? Are you sure you’ll be OK there?

Well, I did have friends. I had, 2-3 months prior to relocating, figured out that this girl was in Kuwait (and all the while, I’d been thinking she was in Bahrain, don’t ask me why!) with her husband and daughter. I knew I didn’t want to be a burden for her, especially not after having been in hibernation for so long. And, I’d lost touch in those 4 years.

Or so I thought. I was wrong. She turned out to be my biggest support system ever. 

I cannot imagine the past 7 months in this country, if she hadn’t been here. She took me into her life and home (literally) and we re-connected like there had been never a day that went by without us talking.

I crashed on her couch for almost 15 days, shamelessly making her cook for me (in return I washed the dishes, something I’d never do given a choice :P) in the morning and night. I would put all my clothes into her washing machine and go off to work. In the evening, I walked back to see them all out drying on the clothes stand. She and her husband voluntarily took it up on themselves to help me find a place of my own, took me shopping, told me exactly what and what not to buy from where. We sat up till 12 most nights, reminiscing college and friends and our separate lives and laughing our eyes out. How her husband tolerated the incessant laughter without arranging to have me deported, still beats me 😛

Even now, after all this time, I know I can walk in anytime and not feel like a guest. I still take my laundry to her place and get it done (each time praying her husband won’t kick me out :P) When I get a pizza craving and don’t want to eat alone, I know she’ll tell her husband “She is craving pizzas. Let’s go get some!” 😀 When I need company to buy plants, I know she is ready before I can say “pla”. And when I am depressed and want to bitch about the marabhootham, she is always available 😀 When I am extremely unwell, I know I have someone I won’t be a burden to. When I’m thoroughly bored, I know if I ping her to say that, she will say “Oh come over already” without missing a beat. And man, her humour timing and sense is always reason for a complete riot!

And the best of all — she bakes the most awesome cakes. And if that wasn’t enough, she recently attended a bread making class and now makes beautiful croissants and focasias and what nots. OK – I haven’t tasted them yet, but well, got to be awesome.

Well, cake or no cake, I’m super glad to have her for a friend. The kind of friend you know isn’t “just a friend”.

What would I do without you, Deepti!? Thank you for everything you do, for being you! 🙂

Day 2: It’s my birthdayyyyyyyyy :)

Yaaaaaaay! It’s (one of) my most favourite day(s) of the year. Well, I could have had it a little better, but what the hell…birthdays come once a year, so I shall still go yaaaaay!

I’m 32 years old. And frankly, I still have no frikking clue what all the fuss about “going into your 30s” is about. I said this two years ago when I turned 30, and I will still say it. Hobbes told me yesterday “You’re going to be 32 years old!” and I went “Yaaay!” 😀 And he said, “You’ll never grow up, will you!?” and told me not to even as I was shaking my head NO 😀

I’ve had the most out-of-ordinary birthday ever. I think since the one i had in 1984 and 85, this must be the ONLY time I spent (almost) all day in bed. I was served breakfast in bed (well, never wishing for that one again, ever). I was given a massive surprise by the Queen of Subtlety and I could barely make my shock known, much less talk to her or go yay! I was under the care of the loving heart all day and now feel miserable for ruining all the plans.

But here’s the best of it all. My biggest birthday-wish of all times came true. I got this! So what if I’m 32!? For some things in life, there is no age limit. Yay (back to doing some mental somersaults)!

Ok…crawling back under the cover now, with a mug of steaming chukku kappi and some lehyam. And some coffeecream birthday cake. Calvin and Hobbes is the best. For always. ❤

After 8 long years…

…after several instances of misgivings

…after wishing I’d not let interruptions stop me

…after cursing self for giving it up

…after agonizing over having lost it forever

…after realising there is no more the confidence that once came so naturally

…after many days of thinking and re-thinking

…after one trial that was not good, and another that was barely satisfactory

…it happened.

Once again, I got on stage. As part of the office band. And sang! This and this 🙂 

I will not comment on how I could have done a LOT better.
I will not comment on how one was way better than the other.
I will not comment on the pathetic sound system or the wrong pitch (which spoiled one) 😀

I will just say I felt on top of the world!
People who gave me the opportunity — the ALKMS Band — I’m eternally grateful! Thank you! 🙂