The holiday season is upon us and everybody is off partying or holidaying. I should have been backpacking across Darwin, instead, the first Monday after Christmas and I’m back at work. Just spent eight hours in an almost empty office with an incredibly sore throat and a wisdom tooth that has been acting up again. Guess the weekend is catching up with me.
I really really need a break…

Slumdog Millionaire

Just caught the latest flick that’s been making waves on the movie circuit. Watching Slumdog Millionaire has been the high point of my otherwise dreary Christmas break. Based on the book Q&A by Vikas Swarup and directed by Danny Boyle, the movie follows Jamal Malik, a boy from the slums of Mumbai who makes it big on the Indian version of Who Wants to be Millionaire.
His dream run on the show is cut short when suspicions are raised on how a slum dog with no education could know all the correct answers. After being picked up and tortured by the law enforcement, Jamal’s explanation on how he knew the answers takes the viewer through the story of his life on the streets. After being orphaned in an anti Muslim attack on the slums, Jamal, his brother Salim and another orphan girl Latika are living off the trash heaps when they are discovered by Maman, a gangster who uses children to beg. Their escape from Maman, separation from Latika and the brothers’ life on the streets, form bits and pieces of how Jamal knew all the answers on the show. The police inspector calls his story ‘bizarrely plausible’ and allows Jamal to return to the show to answer the final question. The movie ends on a high note with a Bollywood touch and a true Bollywood style song and dance sequence.
The movie takes honest and poignant look into the lives of Mumbai’s slum dwellers. Profound scenes from Jamal’s life manage to simultaneously strike a chord with the viewer and also brings a smile to your lips at times. More than anything else, what works is the casting and the performances. The child actors excel in their roles, Dev Patel as Jamal is subtle and still gives an intense performance, Anil Kapoor as the cynical host of the show is brilliant. One however wishes there could have been a bit more of Irrfaan Khan who still manages to give a power packed performance in his short role as the police inspector. All in all Slumdog Millionaire is definitely a must watch.

Out on a limb

After eight months of badgering almost everyone I know, I finally got my wish…I climbed the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Didn’t want to do it alone (…just in case I freaked out and needed someone to hold my hand) so I kept coaxing my friends one after the other to give it a shot. All I got were bewildered looks that said “Are you nuts!!!”. In fact, I grovelled to such an extent that one of my traumatised work mates offered to come along to the bottom of the bridge and wait there while I climbed it.

Anyway, couple of weeks back, I eventually got my chance to scale up this historic feat of engineering. The Sydney Harbour Bridge is a steel arch bridge across the Sydney Harbour. Opened in 1932, this supposed to be the world’s widest long-span bridge.

Coming back to my climb, what was more inundating was the process of gearing up. Metal Detectors, climb suits, radio headsets, safety belts, simulated climbing…whew… must say, I almost bolted out the exit by the end of it. The climb itself was pretty enjoyable, except for certain points where you get a top view of the bridge pillars …coz that’s when hits home how high you really are. Once you go through the narrow walkways and reach the arch, the climb is actually quite comfortable. The arch rises gracefully, giving you an awesome view of the harbour all along. It was fine day to climb, not too sunny with the wind whistling softly in your ears. The summit is about 134 metres above the harbour level; strange how small the ships look from up here. What makes a good climb even better is to have a good guide...Dave…not just knowledgeable about the history of the harbour but also a great sport when it comes to taking photographs of the climbers. Too bad you have to pay to get the photographs. Although it’s probably a good thing that climbers are not allowed to get their own cameras…coz then you get lost in clicking the views and end up missing out on the experience

All said and done, I still think the bridge climb is a tad overrated and definitely overpriced. Certainly not an adrenalin pumping experience but a captivating one nonetheless.

The tryst with Chopsticks continues…

Despite the debacle with yum cha, my tete a tete with chopsticks continues. A lazy Saturday afternoon in a Japanese eatery with a bunch of friends…seemed like an ideal time rekindle my pathetic attempts to master this piece of oriental cutlery. Egged on by my chopstick swivelling mate, I decided to risk another shot at it.

A brief elucidation if I may

Step1: Separate the two sticks.
Simple enough, but I’d probably break it with my clumsy fingers. Not wanting to jinx anything, I got someone to do it for me.

Step 2: Scrape the sticks against each other to get rid of any fibre or dirt.
I did this quite well …so well that I think I almost chafed them to the point of breakage.

Step 3: Hold the chopsticks firmly between your fingers and thumb.
Now with all due credit to my companion who probably lost her mind trying to teach me this, it’s a miracle that the food didn’t go stone cold by the time I got the sticks into place.

With the initial ritual done to perfection…well almost… we move on to Step 4…pick up the food and eat it. Yeah sure…if only it were that simple. I cautiously proceeded towards a piece of spring onion (or was it lotus stem...). To everyone’s astonishment and my alarm, I actually managed to pick it up and pop it in. I managed to do a reasonable job with the veggies, but the teppenyaki chicken seemed to be goading me. There it sat smugly in the sauce, mocking my wobbling fingers. Try what I may, it kept slipping out of reach. I finally ended up stabbing it with the chopstick. Turns out that stabbing your food with a chopstick is bad table etiquette.

Anyway, the whole chopstick fiasco lasted no longer that seven minutes, coz my fingers ended up with a bad cramp. Western cutlery to the rescue once again. All in all not bad for a second attempt. Maybe I should try a Korean restaurant next.

Just managed to spent an entire morning watching Russell Peters on YouTube. Sure his jokes may be racist and offensive, but the guy is freakin hilarious .

Check out this video from youtube

http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=24Ryj1ywoqw

If I stand let me stand on the promise
That you will pull me through
And if I can't, let me fall on the grace
That first brought me to You

- Rich Mullins

Happy Lappy Time

After months of contemplation, I have finally gone ahead with a long overdue acquisition…an essential appendage created by the eccentricities of the modern day lifestyle…my very own laptop. There it sits on my table with in all its gleaming glory, beckoning me. Strange how my fingers seem to reach out for it in spite of having spent the past eight hours drumming away on a keyboard. Hopefully some good will come out of this, at the very least I hope to start blogging more

Life is truly beautiful...

The skies have finally opened up and the rain’s been pattering all night. I open my eyes to a gorgeous, newly washed morning. I’ve never been one to get drenched in the rain, but the light drizzle as I leave for work seems to lift my spirits up. The bus windows are misted up giving a hazy view of the world speeding by outside. Vivid hues of jade seem to spill onto the blue vastness. Tiny droplets seem to chase each other down the pane. The rhythmic pit pattering on the bus top slips me into a reverie.
Its times like this that makes me realise what we truly miss out in the mad rush that we live in.

Up where we belong...

Nobody likes change, you don't have to like it...just don't resist it

Another weekend comes to an end and boy! What a long weekend! Pretty surprising, considering that they usually fly past so fast that it almost makes your head spin and before you know it, its that dreaded day of the week again. I guess what made this weekend seem like an lazy snail on a leisurely stroll was probably because after a long time I chose to spend it doing absolutely nothing. No sightseeing, no movies, no eating out…not even shopping…well the shopaholic fiend in me did try to tempt me to the malls but I guess laziness won the battle this time…good for my bank account. Stayed put at home…a regular couch potato…watching TV, stuffing my face with food and reading novels. Well, at least one good thing came out of it…caught up on my reading…read through two Artemis Fowl books over the weekend. Have been hearing a lot about it and finally got to know what the fuss was all about. A 12 year old criminal mastermind whose malevolent exploits intertwines his world with that of the supernatural world existing at the earth’s core. Certainly destroyed the rosy picture of magical creatures planted in my head by Enid Blyton. The book however is pretty fast paced and runs through without the tiresome descriptions that accompany many fantasy writings. Looking forward to the movie…

WYD

Living in Mumbai is like living amongst a perpetually growing multitude of people. It’s almost as if swarming hordes of fellow creatures are an integral part of your life. I have always disliked crowds but over years I have perfected my own way of dealing with them. The moment I get out onto the streets, I slip into my own reverie of daydreams and fantasies. I may be getting shoved and jostled by the masses around me, but in my head I’ve just scored the winning goal at the Soccer World Cup and the crowd is cheering for me. The woman sitting next to me on the bus has fallen asleep on my shoulder, who cares…I’m dreaming of how I can use my secret superpowers to zap that annoying kid that’s bawling his head off. I know it makes me sound like a regular Walter Mitty, but this technique has worked pretty well for me. I can just tune out the craze and noise around me and escape into my enchanted little world. Anyway, over time the daydreams have progressively become more and more realistic to the point of tiresome monotony. I guess that’s just one of the many dreadful losses of growing up…the mediocre adult rationale begins to see through to the absurdity of childhood fantasies.

Anyway, not one to give up, the daydreams have been replaced by two little earphones blaring music into my head when I’m out on the streets. Yeah … I’m being squashed in the train by a bunch of chubby women…doesn’t matter…coz I’m in the land of rock n roll…yo man!! Over time, cheap FM radio (but a good one I must say…stuck by me for over a year before falling to shambles) was replaced by a mobile phone with an inbuilt radio. Years later, I still use the same trick…retreat to my haven of music when I leave the house…except now, the radio has been replaced by a snazzy mp3 player.

Well, the reason for these reminisces on such a peculiar subject, is because, for probably the first time in many years, I’m enjoying going out into a crowd.
It’s the week of World Youth Day in Sydney and the city is bursting with pilgrims from across the world. I’m standing at Wynyard waiting for the bus back home after work when I see this huge group of young pilgrims making their way to the stop. Lamenting to myself about how the bus would now be overcrowded I continue listening to Enrique crooning into my ears. At some point I realise a low humming that’s gradually getting louder. It’s a while before I realise that the group of pilgrims have begun to sing. Intrigued, I pull out the earphone from my ears…the youngsters are singing…it gets louder and rhythmic as one of them starts playing a little drum. Soon they have formed a circle next to the bus station and are dancing to their song. I realise that everyone at the stop, even the surly looking guy in the business suit, is watching, listening and enjoying in the cheerful spirit that’s spreading across.

Over the week, the city has been bustling with World youth day participants from god-only-knows how many nationalities, with their colourful bandanas, caps, and flags breaking into song and dance at every possible opportunity. There’s just miles and miles of Christian spirit all around and what with the cold weather in Sydney, it’s almost starting to seem like Christmas to me. The vibrant hues of colour are a welcome change from the dull drab corporate shades that I usually see on the trains and buses. Their banter is so infectious that I invariably tend to shut down my mp3 player just to listen and to be part of this crowd. Too bad the festivities end in another few days…the city would go back to its normal routine and the earphones…yeah those would plug back into my ears.

Mama Mia

Finally caught up with the latest Hollywood musical, Mama Mia. Full of song and dance, this movie is an quite an entertaining caper. 20-year-old Sophie lives with her mother Donna on a small Greek island, where Donna runs a resort. Sophie is about to be married and wants her father to be present at the wedding but does not know who he is. From Donna's old diary, she figures he is one of three men mentioned in it. She secretly invites all three and hopes to find out who is her real father. What follows is a capricious canter with characters breaking into song and dance at the drop of a hat.

There’s not much of a plot to carry on 108 minutes of reel time, but the great performances, awesome locations and of course Abba’s music makes for one feisty flick. Some song sequences do seem a bit too long winded (Read: Donna singing “The winner takes it all” to a remorseful looking Sam). Even so, the movie cruises along at a pretty good pace and keeps one amused. Meryl Streep as the sassy Donna steals the show and steals your heart with her quirky antics to Mama Mia and Dancing Queen. Can’t really say the same about Pierce Brosnan suddenly singing S.O.S. It’s a bit odd to see our smooth, suave Bond serenading with Abba classics.

Not sure how many people would actually like this movie, but if you are an Abba fan, this light hearted, feel good movie is definitely worth a watch.

Out on my own

I’ve never really been one to go exploring anyplace on my own. In fact, I think I have never done it before now. But I suppose there’s a first for everything. So here I am, three hours away from Sydney, in Newcastle for a short visit. Work doesn’t start until late afternoon, which means I essentially have the entire morning on my hands with absolutely nothing interesting on the cards. I must admit though, there was the enticing option of staying put in the warm hotel room and catching up on the paperback which I have been carrying around for quite some time now. But the prospect of seeing a new place got the better of me and I decided to venture out into the city.

Now, I have an appalling sense of direction and it doesn’t take me too long to get lost which is why I usually arm myself with a bunch of maps pulled out from the online experts. Unfortunately the internet connectivity bails out on me and I find myself on the street armed with nothing but a miniature brochure that I found in my room. The booklet mentions a few places that interest me so I decide to go in search of the information center to get some more detailed directions. Smart move…? Yeah that’s what I thought…only…how does one get to the information center??? The hotel brochure says that it’s right opposite the railway station. Seems simple…I do know where the station is…only, I have now walked beyond the station and there has been no sign of the center so far. So I decide to keep walking on the main road…can’t get lost if I don’t take any turns…can I?

Its an awfully windy day…numbingly cold and I seem to be walking on a run down part of the city with quite a few seedy looking shops, most of which are closed. Ten minutes into the walk and the wide road forks out ahead into two seemingly uninteresting paths. Well, so far there seem to be no directions to the beaches and heritage places which are supposed to be very close by as per the brochure…the information center of course remains elusive. That’s when I catch sight of a large Myers outlet on the other side of the road seeming to beckon me. The mental image of aisles of fashion at its best almost douses out my explorer spirit. I am on the verge of giving in to my shopaholic urges when I notice a railway crossing to my right. Curiosity gets the better of me…well a railway crossing is not really interesting, it was just the possibility of getting a better view of the city that made me climb all the way up. And that’s when I saw the view that took my breath away…the immense azure expanse dipping into the deep swirling waves of blue. It takes me a few minutes to realize that in my bumbling exploration quest I had unknowingly stumbled onto the Newcastle Harbour.

As I walk along the harbor, I realize that I’m actually on the path that leads to the main beaches and heritage spots of Newcastle…lucky me!! The sights are absolutely brilliant, a feast for weary eyes that have been continually subjected to a mind-numbingly tedious computer screen. The strong winds constantly threaten to sweep me off my feet as I plod on trying to take in all the sights. The tourist crowd is minimal which gives me a chance to take some good snaps of the landscapes. I spend a good few hours taking in the golden sand, the huge waves and the hordes of pelicans basking in the sun. There are also quite a few spots of historic significance but the brilliant display of nature at its best keeps me totally captivated in its magic. My walk finally leads me to the Yi-Ran-Na-Li cliffs, a sacred and revered place. It is believed that one must be silent whilst passing beneath them lest the rocks fall onto you. Needless to say I made sure that not a word escaped my lips even though the cliffs are supposed to be quite safe now. The cliffs themselves are an impressive sight as they seem to look down upon insignificant humans passing beneath them. It’s a pretty awesome feeling to stand on the narrow pathway, with the imposing Yi-ran-na-li on one side and the enormous waves crashing onto the rocks on the other side.

Anyway, I decide to turn back when I realize that it’s almost noon. I make sure that I take the exact same path back lest I get lost. The walk back is quite pleasant and I manage to get a few good pictures of the pelicans who still seem to be enjoying their bask in the sun. I arrive back at my “magic beanstalk”…the railway crossing, and cross over to the streets which now seem dreary in comparison to nature’s canvass on the other side.

Feeling pretty pleased with myself, I head back for my hotel room and guess what I see on the way…the visitor’s information center, right opposite the railway station (just like it was mentioned in the brochure)! Wonder how I missed it in the first place??...maybe it was the magic beanstalk at work…!!!

Monsters under my bed!!

I hate to admit it, but the fact is that darkness still gives me the creeps. There are still some nights when the few moments between switching off the lights and climbing into bed brings terribly graphic images into my mind. Blame it on an overactive imagination, but my mind somehow conjures up these scary possibilities which I’m sure could shoot any horror flick into a box office success.

Well, last night was particularly freakish…I turned off the lights and got into bed quite peacefully, without my imagination acting up. But then my brain chooses to give me a dose of insomnia. So I lie wide awake trying to count sheep. Now I have a pretty large glow-in-the-dark jig saw puzzle spread out in my room, which gives out an eerie glow in the dark. Within seconds creepy images started popping into my tranquil mind. For a change I decide to go with the flow and try to list out all the possibilities that have given me jitters over the years.

Well, there have always been images of skeletons jumping out from closets and ghosts flying in from open windows. But my biggest fear factor has always been monsters under the bed. Even now I would think twice before dangling my feet down from the bed when it is pitch dark. Even if I do, the sensation that something would grab my feet and pull me under the bed is so overpowering that it makes me involuntarily pull my feet back up. But once all tucked up in bed I have always felt safe from any of Satan’s minions that may be lurking under the bed, in the closet or outside the window. Unfortunately, my imagination seems to catch up on fear factors narrated by others. One such fear is to be lying in bed, and get the feeling that if I look up at the ceiling fan there would be a person dangling from it. Anyway, I have now stopped looking up at the ceiling once the lights are turned off so I have pretty much managed to get over that fear.

Things were fine until one of my friends chose to let her imagination run away. Asked me what I would do if I woke up in the middle of the night and found that the person lying next to me had turned into a ghost. Needless to say insomniac nights have never been the same with this particular possibility lodged in my head!!!

If I ever came face to face with my own personality, I would hate it!

My List

Was leaving office as usual when a pleasant faced Chinese woman calls out to me. Turns out that she is promoting a beauty saloon. She gives me her business card and invites me for a complimentary beauty class. Eager to get out of the freezing cold I nod my head vigorously and tell her that I certainly will contact her for the class. I guess I wasn’t convincing enough coz she went on and on about skin care…or maybe, my skin looked so uncared for that she thought I deserved an earful. Anyway, her parting statement was,”Don’t work too hard, look beautiful and find a man”. That last line really got me thinking…would you really want to look good just to fish for a man? Whatever happened to looking good for yourself? And even if you do find a man, what happens after that?...u get married to him…and soon, in a few years all your expected to do is cook, clean and breed. I know…that is a depressing thought but its true in most cases. Isn’t there more to life than getting married?

Well, I made up a list of stuff I want to do in my life before I die (…apart from getting married that is)

1. Learn to play at least one musical instrument (Already tried my hand on the guitar…but I suck at it)
2. Learn to speak Spanish fluently (ah…such a romantic language)
3. Get over my fear of heights (Jump from over 10,000 ft…with a parachute of course)
4. Visit the seven wonders of the world (well, at least some of them)
5. Try all the cuisines that the world has to offer (at least as many as possible in this lifetime)
6. Run a marathon
.
.
…well that’s all I can think of now
.
.
…actually there was one more thing, but I took it off the list after I miserably failed at it…that was to learn the salsa.

Hunting for a House…Again

Somehow this seems to have become a recurring activity in my life. Have hunted for a roof above my head about five times in the past two and half years. And if that wasn’t enough, it has been in a different city each time. I am now going through the whole crazy process once again in a sixth city. And what have I learnt so far?...well nothing much except that…if you are a single female looking for accommodation, the same issues will hound you…no matter what the city.

You living alone is unthinkable for your parents and also for many landlords who will be scared away by the idea of a single woman wanting to rent a house all alone. The only other option is to look for a shared living and that is just the beginning of all the troubles. If the house is good and affordable, the locality is probably seedy. The path to the house is bound to be through alleys dark enough to freak you out of your wits. If the locality is good, the house is probably a dump and you end up paying a premium just for the “posh” locality. If you are lucky enough to find a good house in a good locality, you find that your flat mates are the kind that will drive you nuts.

I once visited this all ladies hostel …a hostel that was ‘recommended’ by someone. It was past 8 PM in the night and I took along a male friend. We finally found it after passing by a series of shanties with people looking at us suspiciously. A depressing place dimly lit by incandescent lamps. At the entrance my friend asked me to go ahead and take a look while he waited outside…the obvious thing to do…after all it’s a ladies hostel. Well, surprise… surprise, he was actually invited in to come along and take a look. Once in, we see another guy loitering about in the area chatting with the girls there. Maybe he worked there…well we didn’t bother to find out…fled the place.

Another time I went to take a look at a flat recommended by a broker. Everything seemed fine until we asked him about the bathroom. Imagine my surprise when he took us to an area that resembled a balcony with a tap on one side. Seeing the incredulous look on my face, he says, “Don’t worry madam, we’ll cover this area using sheets”. Help!!!

Some things never change. Looking for accommodation is the biggest bane of a job that gives you opportunities to travel. Its probably a very pessimistic view but I have come to a conclusion that you can never find a perfect place to live. It is always a compromise of sorts

Yummy Yum Cha

Chinese cuisine to me has always meant spicy ChowMein, Manchurian and Fried rice. Last week however, I was introduced to the concept of Yum Cha, a Chinese custom of eating small servings of different foods in a tea bowl with…chopsticks…help!!! Unfortunately it happened to be at a team lunch with a group of Australian team mates who could dexterously work magic with their chopsticks and tiny tea bowls. The food to me was incomprehensible. The dishes looked like nothing I had ever seen before. Everything looked revoltingly raw or undercooked. Urged by my team mates I proceeded to try a dish that looked like bacon. Using one my chopsticks I tipped a few pieces of the bacon into my tea bowl. Using a fork (that a waiter kindly brought) I proceeded with first bite…surprisingly it was quite good. Encouraged by the good start I looked towards the table that was already laden with an assortment of unusual dishes. Slowly I started working my way through a few equally gross looking dishes that turned actually out to be quite nice. Somewhere along, came a plate of dimsums and for some godforsaken reason still unknown to me, I decided to pick up a dimsum using my chopsticks (which I had abandoned, thanks to the fork). I jammed the chopsticks between my fingers and heroically proceeded to pick up the pale dimsum which turned out to be a lot more slippery than it looked. Imagine my horror when one of the chopsticks swooped out of my hand, narrowly missed hitting the guy sitting next to me and fell onto the floor. All I wanted at that awfully embarrassing moment was to disappear into the bowels of the earth. Any way, that ended my vain attempt to show off my non existent skills with chopsticks. I went back to work with my good ol’ fork and thankfully the rest of the meal passed on quite uneventfully. As it turns out my first experience with Yum Cha was pretty good. Discovered that there’s more to Chinese cuisine than Chilli Gobhi and Chicken Manchurian. Although the food may not look too appetizing, it’s all about gritting your teeth and taking that plunge…the first bite. And yes, chopsticks are a lot more trickier than they look. If your not sure of using them, you'll be better off using a fork.