Every Day We Learn New Things.

I have put myself on a self-declared holiday. No work. Just veg. (Pun unintended)

I told myself since my team members seem to be in no hurry to chug along on their parts of the deal, why am I losing sleep over it? Am I the only one with a conscience that says,’Dude… If you want this to work, you got to move it , move it!’ Some times it seems like I am the only one who cares. So today, I read my emails quick quick, answered them all and then slave drove some ppl who in another life will hope to kill me off quick and made some decisions not to do. Then I set off to east coast park at 830am to meet L for cycling around. So I got my morning exercise cycling from cycleland to changi to cycleland to waterside and back to cycleland.

Along the way, I made some observations.

Like OMG…It’s that time of the month again.

It’s been latent for some time. But it’s back in full force.

So it started on Saturday. Lots of jibing back and forth. Friendly you know. Then this slow song played. And I was near this guy whom I have secretly liked. Physically. He has the most interesting tan. I have seen his abs. Sculpted blocks of dark chocolate. Big, strong hands. Nice broad shoulders. And in his baritone voice he asks, ‘Can I have this dance?’

I know it was probably in jest and he and I are just friends but boy does my heart flutter. I think it did a little Lindy hop move. I was completely befuddled but oh that bit of overjoyed as well. So I put my small hand in his … in his oh so big hands… (I could go on and on about his hands but I restrain myself) and I did a little twirl and without so much of looking at him again, I moved off… but not without a shy grin on my face.

Gosh, so I am back to square one. I am not going to hide anything.

I NEED A MAN.

Don’t tell me,’Shuddup Rosh.. Men are nothing but trouble.’ Currently, I would like some male trouble. Don’t tell me that with men life is complicated. It is already complicated. I think with men in the equation, I may get some complicated TLC. Don’t tell me that we should enjoy being single because right now, life DOES NOT seem to be a party.

If they are such big trouble, why are they on this planet? To take up space?

I don’t think so. There is a reason why everything on this planet is as it is. So, the conclusion? My need for a man is justified no matter what anyone says.

Be Proactive. Take Charge of Your Life!!!

‘What’s your problem? Stop moping around and take charge of your life! You think that everything is just going to happen!? If you want it and it doesn’t happen, you gotta FIGHT for it. Not be a wuss and whine. Be a go-getter’

Now who could have said that to me?

But I am glad I got that kick in the butt. It is not that I did not know it but seriously, sometimes I need someone to spell it out to me. Then I remembered a random conversation with a 14 year-old. Something about doing what you want and doing the best with your talents.

After today’s escapades around town, I realise that I had the answer probably all along. There is no ONE right path. Yeah, REVELATION, huh??

In other words, I think my dress sense is getting worse. But I think my personality suits my dress sense. Right? I hope.

When it rains, it pours. Just a coincidence?

I’m really curious. When bad things happen, do they happen all at the same time? Or, is it just a case of being hypersensitive to your surroundings? I live life in extremes. When I am happy, I am terribly over the moon about things. And when I am sad, I can be the most morose person to be around. I suppose we can blame 51% on my erratic female hormones.

It is really hard to be carefree when things go wrong and it’s absolutely difficult for me to move on just brushing it aside. It’s easy for everyone to sya you know take it easy. I am all for optimism but when things fall apart, I can’t help getting angry. It’s the same feeling you get when u start building a structure out of a pack of cards and it falls apart on you just when you think it is all going well. It makes everything I have seem that much more fragile and transient.It’s more frustrating than the pack of cards analogy because well, it is reality.

I try to look for purpose in what I do and I definitely do things with a goal in mind. I just want to feel good about myself. But it sucks that sometimes, most times, my decisions seem to be wrong no matter how well I think I had thought them out. I have a chip on my shoulder because I was the one to whom everything went right. I can’t seem to able to tolerate anything less than perfect. Sadly, of late, EVERYTHING I have attempted has ended up awry. Makes me wonder about my ability make proper decisions.

My mum thinks I think too much and ask for too much and that contentment never exists in my vocabulary. I try to rationalise and think that all this is probably happening to get me a reality check on what I am doing. When things go wrong, its time to re-evaluate and move on.

I suppose another reason why it feels that I’m standing on cracking ice, is mainly because I have no idea how to move forward. It was all clearcut before but now, there are just so many ways and no one perfect way. Though, my Indian society respects only a couple of those million ways, I have the opportunity to choose. I think that’s most frightening. What if I screw up again? With the number of people telling me to go ahead without thinking too much, you might think that no one here is afraid.

There is no room for fear in this world, eh? Don’t be afraid to make those choice and don’t be afraid to live their consequences. There is no middle road if you want to be independent. It’s not very easy being an adult. And, guess what … sadly, this is just the tip of the iceberg. This is just me being me being me-centric. Add all the other relationships with people to the equation and I get one big mess.

I read somewhere in Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera about the beauty of ‘the glittering shades of grey’. I’m not sure on that. Right now, starkly delineated blacks and whites are more appealing.

Being Indian/Yindian/YEEENDIAAN!!!

There is a line that sticks in my head whenever I think about family and I think that it really does have some form of truth in it. I can’t remember exactly how it is phrased but there is some reference to being in touch with your past and to be guided through your future.

Although being Indian is something every Indian person can identify with, I sometimes think that it can be terribly confusing for someone for whom Indian is defined differently in different places. I am an Indian hybrid since I have one leg in conservative but recently-hip India and one leg in conservative but continually boring Singapore. I need my dose of Indian music, movies and munchies but I also need my intake of las, mahs and wah laus. I guess it can be a tussle of identities within myself, sometimes wrongly surfacing in the wrong instances. Like when I suddenly switch on the Yindian accent when in heated discussion. Or when I go ‘No la, don’t bedek’ with my sis in front of my disapproving mum.

So being Indian goes back to identifying with the unspoken rules and stuff in my house. Like odd curfews and prayers and diets and all are completely strange if I detach myself from my Yindian self. I enjoy it and I think my chinese friends (with whom I spend more time with) are completely fascinated by some of the things I have to do. I mean, being Indian is all about dancing around trees, shaking your head vigourously, eating spicy food and arranged marriages. I do enlighten some of them but others I just chose to revel in a secret pleasure of telling them how backward my existence is back in India. Bullock carts and beggars. Yeah, its wicked but sometimes being the public education vehicle on the changes in India is no fun.

Having lived in Singapore most my life, its only now that I start knowing more about my Konkani culture and my family back in India. With the holidays and more time to spare, I have been hearing about different relatives and their doings from my mother. And my are the stories colourful! There is romance, anger, betrayal and adultery! Wow. I never knew I had such a dramatic family. I mean drama is my right as an Indian but I never knew my positively benign family’s escapades back in India would be movie-worthy.

My mum told me yesterday more about my grandfather and his life as social activist and an entrepreneur. It was a very inspiring story and almost too cool that he had been jailed during his O levels because he had taken part in the independence struggle. He was almost jailed once again in the 70s when the opposition Congress Govt came into power and was incarcerating the anti-Congress. My mum told me how those were trying times as her family lived in terror. If my grandfather was caught, the sole breadwinner of the family would be gone. And my grandfather was caught but the miracle of connections and friends saved him. One of the police officers at the station happened to be his uni classmates and well, as they say, the rest is history. My uncle was let out and the case was forever not opened.

Then she told me about how she and dad met. I never knew my dad to be the romantic types but when I heard about all of his antics, I was so shocked. Imagine the likes of stalking my mum and making horribly embarrassing jokes in front of her whole family about her. Well, its nice to know there were those times in their lives. I sometimes imagine them being born in the same state as I see them in now. It’s difficult to imagine them ever being young. The same thing has been said in previous generations? Oh I never knew…

Ok. I’m done with blogging. Now I need to go make my soup. I’m on a soup and chappati diet and I eat the occasional wheat cracker to fill me up in the down times. But carbs are being slowly cut of the diet. Let’s see how far this gets me. Aim: to last 2 weeks on the diet.