Plead the Fleeting Moment to Stay

These days I think a lot about the future.

A LOT.

I feel the weight of the end of a life’s chapter looming ahead of me and as much as it excites and envigorates me, I am scared. Scared ‘cos the life I want for myself may not be achievable. I wonder at super humans out there who seem to be able to do it all and that too, effortlessly. I secretly wish that there is something that they are lacking or missing out on. You win some, you lose some… right?

I try not to think about the numerous grievances that I have over the past 4 years. Every time I regret, I remind myself not to limit my mindset to the here and now. It’s my life… everyone can have opinion on it but in the end its mine to live. Which brings me to the headache of the moment. I absolutely envy all my friends who have minimal or no family attachment. You ask me what’s my biggest distraction, that’s it: family. I’m not sure if 20 years on I would look back at my selfish 22-year-old self and say that family was all worth it. If Indian movies or soaps are anything to go by, sacrifice for the greater good (family) is lauded highly. I’m not sure if I can do all that.

My mother has been showing me pictures of guys and all, and well, as much as I appreciate the fact she is ‘introducing’ me to people, I don’t think I want this right now. Especially when I am not sure what the outcome would be. Just for friendship or a more than friends relationship, I can deal with. But nothing more than that. I am too comfortable with my brand of freedom. I want to test to its limits; push myself in a job to the hilt. Too many new experiences ‘cloud the model’ – as my econs prof would put it. Too many variables, too much chaos.

Is this too much to ask?  (Don’t bother answering)

Ideally, I would like to really work for the next 5 years in the communications (journalism/media/PR/corporate relations) industry and get my hands really dirty with it all and then, perhaps settle down.

oh well. just a thought. an incomplete thought for now.

Je Souhait…

Mais quand Mini rouvre les  yeux, elle sait bien ses reves ne se realiseront pas dans la vie. Et alors, elle est triste.

Un jour, Mini en a parle a sa maman qui s’est mise a rire et lui a dit:

<<Mais, Mimi, tu as plus de chance que les autres, tu sais faire un peu tout. Cela vaut mieux que de savoir tres bien faire une chose et pas du tout les autres.>>

– Mimi est la meilleure, un livre pour les jeunes a partir de 7 ans

Rippy the Gator

LOL

Follicular Wars

I thought I had problems with hair.

Waxing, epilation, electrolysis, shaving, threading… all seem to be part of my everyday vocabulary. Actually, it is more a problem of keeping the hair where it should be and removing it in all other places (since Indians find a headful of thick black hair sexy and which, also possibly, has some correlation between marriage prospects and future fertility). Call it the bane of being an Indian with a genetic proclivity for fuzz. In my family, we (the 4 females in our house) sort of refer to it as the werewolf syndrome, (just as we refer to the monthly ‘thing’ as the… thing) where we feel pretty the first half of the month before the hair starts creeping out on us again.

But we have learnt to deal with it… you know… by wearing skirts for the better half of the month and gradually, increasing the length of our bottoms as the time goes by. We  also have our own theories and discussion groups on what is the best method for hair removal and what we have read/discovered/conjured up in our head the best ways to have long glorious tresses. (My dad, who’s hairy genes we have also inherited, quickly exits at this juncture) My mother has stuck every strange concoction of ‘natural’ substance on our heads. This includes tea grounds, henna, honey, egg white, curds, etc. all in the good intentions of making us have great-looking hair. (No, she was not cooking our next meal on our heads). Have they worked? Some have and others well, let’s say, faith and hope are great things to have when we have no answers. Plus, I hate pissing my mum off.

So where is this going? Imagine my reaction when I find out that there are horrifying events like the World Beard & Moustache Championships. UGH! Well, it is for the men anyway but still, UGH! These people grow their facial hair for competitions! My first thought was ‘How to go out like that? Wah… the waxing lady would have SUCH a problem!!’ Anyway, check it out if you want to… disturbingly hilarious.

Indian beaten to first place by a hairier Brit at WB&M’07

Ok a bit more hair, but on men. Yes, the rugged look is nice, with itty bittles of stubble in the right places. I also prefer my men hairier cos, I don’t want to be the Beast AND the beauty in the couple. But I guess my love for hair on a man also comes on a likeability spectrum. If you’re hairy and can’t do much about it cos your mum and dad were direct descendants of gorillas and the wooly mammoths, then please keep your mane problems tamed.

(This post has come to an abrupt end because I had to go call my waxing lady pronto)