NYC Dogs - Part II

Everyone has a dog. It's pretty weird actually. You wander down the street just after dinner time, and you invariably see more people with dogs than without. I think I've seen more types of dogs in 3 weeks here, than I ever saw back home. Today (or was it yesterday?) I saw the most adorable pug ever. Short, stout and a tad on the grumpy side, he was adorable.

It amazes me that people would keep dogs in their tiny one bedroom places. I barely have space for myself in this studio of mine, let alone a s***ting and smelling dog. I can't bathe it every day, and this city is so frigging dirty that it would probably be horribly in need of a bathe after every walk! I feel like I need one after I go out - and I wear clothes and shoes! Sigh.

Apart from the spatial and nasal issues of dog rearing and handling in this city, I've wondered for a while just why so many people feel the need for the 4-legged creatures. The only plausible, and somewhat sensical, explanation I have come up with is this:

People here are so lonely, that they need the added comfort in their lives that 'man's-best-friends' give. They'd have babies, but they're too busy trying to live and make money to spend 9-months gestating or helping gestate...

Academic Heaven

So today, I went to a lecture hosted by Nobel Laureate Jagdish Bhagwati, and featuring the Indian Minister of State for the Environment - Jairam Ramesh.

I'm in love with Indian politics (if you hadn't noticed yet). And the lecture was fascinating! It was great to see how the type of people in Indian politics has changed over the past few years. Ramesh was eloquent, impeccably dressed in a white kurta and blue vest (and with the coolest hair!), and quite funny as well. I also wanted to appropriate his accent - sometimes my 'eh' tinged Canadian accent sounds so boring. Sigh.

Anyway. Ramesh spoke about India's road to Copenhagen and the various processes that have been put into place, and are being put into place, for the upcoming climate change summit. What was fascinating though, apart from the numbers and the action being undertaken by the ministry, was how much India has started to assert itself on the world stage. India's desire to be at the top of the world, in terms of power and influence, was apparent - nay, tangible - in every sentence.

I'm not going to post the notes I took, but will leave you with my favourite quote of the afternoon - from Jairam Ramesh, of course...

And I'm paraphrasing here..

"Why is climate change such an important issue for India? It's because India is completely dependent on climate - economically, socially, culturally. Think about it - what would Bollywood do if the rains stopped coming?"

Hilarious.

A Night with the Angels

Tonight was, for Isma'ilis anyway, Laylat-ul-Qadr - the night of power, the night on which it is believed that the Prophet Muhammad (saww) first received the Qur'an's verses. I have family in town (yay!) for the US Open, and so, we decided to meet up for dinner tonight. It got cancelled this morning, and then because the rain kept on coming down incessantly, was rescheduled (for the same night, of course). Excited about being with family and of getting out of the house, I got ready really quickly and got into a cab.

As you may know already (I can't remember if I've written about the many random and odd conversations I've had with cab drivers - but I've had quite a few, including one where I was so scared I almost thought of getting out of the cab immediately), I speak to cab drivers. So when this one opened his mouth, I thought he sounded Italian - so I asked him if he was from Italy. Turns out, he was from Ecuador, but had Italian parents (score! I'm awesome - teehee) who had emigrated to South America. Anyway, we started chatting about this and that and it was quite amusing. He found out I was studying South Asian politics and then went on about how it was religion that was tearing the world apart (which - I agree with) and how he couldn't understand how Partition ever occurred.

He asked me what my religion was. And remembering the last time I'd discussed my religious views with a cab driver (a year ago - I was between agnostic and atheist, and had received a 20 minute lecture on how I needed to believe in Allah and His messengers - my views have actually changed since then - not on account of that lecture of course), I decided to tell him I didn't believe in God. Given his already-affirmed semi-negative views on religion, I figured that it was the safest option and, thankfully - because I was in no mood to discuss my own religious views - it was. Anyway, so we also discussed men and how apparently, with my new hair, I look like Cleopatra or Isis and how I'm a very shy person and perhaps conservative with a mix of Wild Western thrown in, and how I shouldn't go out with a Desi guy because they're all really boring (FYI - I opposed this statement of his vehemently!) etc. and then he dropped me off at the restaurant with a 'goodbye senorina'.

So I got out of the cab, and went up to my aunt who was standing outside, talking on the phone. And - dinner plans had just gotten cancelled because my uncles had JUST received a call from the USTA, telling them that the tennis matches were about to resume. Having spent a lot of money and having travelled across the continent for the matches, they sped away to Flushing Meadows, and we 3 women were left dinner date-less.

My aunt and her friend are quite the religious people and had come from JK (Isma'ili version of a mosque) just for dinner. I hadn't eaten, and they offered to take me out for dinner. But I could see that they wanted to get back to JK for the various prayers. Anyway, then my aunt had an idea - she said, why don't you just come to JK with us, there's food there (Gujarati food - yummy!) and then you can sit and pray if you want. We'll leave after the 12am prayer and you can go home.

Now, being quite lonely and hungry, and not particularly excited about going back home, watching tv, reading this article I still haven't finished, and ordering-in Thai food, I acquiesced (*collective gasp*). For those of you that know me, I'm quite the un-Ismaili. I went to Alma Mater for 5 years and never figured out where the campus JK was, let alone went to it. I've been here 5 days (not counting the days my parents were here), and about to go into JK. Helloooo!!!!

When I got into JK though, it was an amazing feeling. No No. Not the spiritual kind, but the one where you feel completely comfortable. Having been in places and situations that are completely and utterly new and different, it felt amazing being somewhere where I didn't have to constantly wonder or worry about what was going to happen or how to act or what to do. And when I had that pilaf. OhEmJee. I almost cried. It made me miss my mommy's food even more because it tasted exactly like it (except the salt content was perfect - my mother comes from a family that uses very little salt).

As far as the praying part goes, I'm more Muslim than Isma'ili (no - not the same thing), and so it wasn't too fulfilling spiritually. It was ironic though, for sure, given that I'd just denied the existence of any religiousness within myself an hour or so before stepping foot into JK and then had partaken in a ceremony that only 'the very faithful' go to.

Oh So Funny.

Right. It's now 2am, and my sleep angels are waiting for me to fall asleep. But first, the tooth fairy wants me to go brush and floss my teeth - so sleep will have to wait a little while longer.

Night ya'll and remember...to be born again, first you must die.

9/11/9 - Where It All Started

So, a couple posts ago, I mentioned the fact that I'd be in NYC on the 9th anniversary of 9/11. I wondered how I'd feel, what I'd do, and promised to write about my 9/11/NYC experience(s).

I slept through it. I honestly did. I woke up at around 11:30am, and proceeded with my various morning rituals (sans tea this morning because I slept well - *gasp* - and didn't feel like I needed it).

Recognizing the danger of sounding like a complete fool, I must say that I even forgot about 9/11, until I was flipping through the tv and came across a documentary about that particular event.

Sigh.

Back to Premchand.

An Evening at JFK

I find it quite amusing. I haven’t been blogging much for a while, and here I am, writing my third post for the day (although, since this airport doesn’t have free wireless, it won’t be up on RFS until tomorrow). In my loneliness, I find writing soothing. It’s a way to get my emotions out, without having to resort to Facebook or Skype or MSN. It feels more human to do it this way, almost as if I’m writing in a diary – without the diary and the physical writing parts of course. As my friend Christina said, upon her return from Scotland, it feels as if my real life is actually the one taking place on social networks. My physical life in NYC, seems very distant and disconnected from what’s actually going on.

That being said, today was quite a good day. Apart from having barely slept last night, because I’m still a bit afraid to sleep with the lights out in my new apartment (reminds me of that song from Taare Zameen Par – main kabhii batlaataa nahiin. Par andheron se dartaa huun main maa.) and I can’t actually sleep with the lights on. Finally, at around 3am, exhausted but still fully awake, I got out of bed and turned them off. I was asleep within 5 minutes.

And then my alarm rang at 830am and - as is usually the case – I switched it off and dozed for a short while. After I finally got out of bed, I made myself my much-needed cup of tea (more like cups of tea this morning) and dashed off to the International Students’ office to make sure all my visa stuff was in order so I could fly back to Canada for the weekend. My grandmother passed away (inna lilaahi wa inna ilaihi rajiun) yesterday, so I’m flying back for the funeral ceremonies (hence the reference to the airport above). Anyway, I walked the forty blocks there and back (and experienced my first taste of the New Yorker accent along the way – as those of you who have read my earlier post will recollect) and then went home for lunch. After left-over Bangkok fried rice (so yummy!) and Rice Krispies (I had to finish my milk before I left and I didn’t want to drink it straight), I headed out again to the Staples another 20 blocks away. I hadn’t really explored the Staples end of my part of town, and so I was excited to get out and walk the 20 blocks.

So I turned on my iPod. Set it to my Coke Studio and Pakistani Rock playlist that I’ve been listening to constantly for the past few weeks (Noori. Oh,Em,Jee! And Kinara uff!!), put on my Ray Bans and, dressed for the occasion in my West-Coast Kits Beach clothing (Lululemon and Karma plus a t-shirt from my Alma Mater), I set off for the Staples. My attempt to explore wasn’t that fruitful actually – I was more interested in my music. Sigh. Good music will do that to you. I’m sure I got some pretty odd stares as I walked along, smiling at the brilliance of it all and probably (although I’m not sure) bobbing my head along to the music. And maybe singing. I dunno. I don’t remember.

Anyway, I got to the Staples and was happy because they had a massive sale! As a student without a source of income and flabbergasted by the amount tuition costs (although – one year for my Masters is less than a year as an undergrad at Harvard and my tuition will drop $10,000 per semester after this year), I love sales. *Massive Smile*

I got all my school supplies for the year (apart from 3 notebooks I’ll need next term and possibly binders) for 30 bucks – not including the mail-in rebates that will give me back around $10. Yay! (I feel like such a cheapo.)

Diversion RE: I feel like such a cheapo

I’m dressed quite well right now. In my nice jeans, nice flats – the purple Aldo ones I love, this white blazer-type jacket, a polo shirt and a vest. And I’m drinking Starbucks – even though their coffee sucks (but I don’t want to risk having worse coffee in this airplane lounge, so Starbucks it is). Anyway, so it feels weird talking – well writing – about being a cheapo when I don’t look like or feel like a cheapo. Oh – and I better explain why I’m dressed well too. So I’m taking my small suitcase instead of the carry-on so that I can bring my nice jacket from home that I had to leave behind because it wouldn’t fit in the suitcases I brought with me last week. I thought about wearing sweats, but that would mean putting my jacket and the other clothes I’m wearing in my suitcase, and that would give me less space to bring stuff from home.

Anyway, back to my story.

So yes, I bought my school supplies and thought of taking the subway back home. But then I went – hey, it’s a nice day. You need some exercise. It’s only 20 blocks and these bags aren’t that heavy are they? So I decided to walk. And it was decidedly harder than the walk to the Staples. Apart from the fact that part of the walk was uphill, the bags started really weighing down on me after about 10 blocks. By the time I got home, I was so tired (remember – I barely slept last night [you should see the bags underneath my eyes – Nabz during exam season would be proud]). But then I had to pack. So I couldn’t really relax and take a nap.

Next story.

I’m sitting at JFK, waiting for my flight. When my Pakistani cab driver (who apparently used to own an ice-cream factory with 287 employees and then lost it all after 9/11 because ‘something happened’, and who has 5 kids, all of whom are in Pakistan and either doctors or surgeons or heads of operations at some company – and then you wonder why he’s driving a taxi and wearing tattered clothes?) told me there were 9 terminals here, I was astounded and got really excited about being at the crossroads of humanity (clichéd…I know…don’t shake your head at me) and seeing people from all over the world inside. One thing I remember so well is the first (and really the only time) I spent some time at Heathrow (on my way to Kenya). It was so cool because there were all these people from different parts of this world. I remember this Shi’a mullah quite distinctly – I found him fascinating. I need to go to the East. I really do. *lament*

Anyway. But I feel like I’m sitting in Vancouver – without the pretty airport. This place is packed with Chinese people (although that’s probably because the flight I’m on is heading to Hong Kong and is just stopping over in Vancouver). Dammit. My phone rang and I lost my train of thought.

Maybe it’s a sign. I’m nearing the end of two pages on Word (like I said, I don’t have internet access here) and should probably wrap up. I know this post was random. But I felt like writing, so bear with it.

I’m excited to go home. Even though it’s for a sad occasion. I’ll get to meet my bff after 9 months and a bunch of other people I haven’t seen for quite some time. 1.5 hours until the flight departs. Sigh. I’m going to start Gandhi’s autobiography – given that I’m taking a course on his political views.
I love MEALAC

I love school

Wow. I’m such a nerd. :D

PS – I still haven’t gotten around to finding out how to meet Rushdie. Note to self – do it ASAP.

Maximum City - Sort Of

Maximum City is a book I've always loved and found fascinating. Having only been to Bombay once, I feel as if it's my own little window into the magic and mayhem of that city.

There's a segment in that book, that's always stayed in my mind - the one where he talks about living by the water, in an apartment, and leaving the windows open - and how all sorts of junk (including a wet diaper - yuck!) and dust fly into his house.

Now. I always thought he was exaggerating a bit, until I cleaned my own apartment, overlooking water, after having kept the window open for about 30 minutes. Although no stray diapers found their way onto my floor, the amount of dirt that came in within those 30 minutes was amazing. The pan I use to grab all the dirt was full (it's one of those small hand-held ones), and I'm still feeling the effects of all that dust and dirt in my nose...

Anyway. Sorry Suketu. You were right.

Apologies...

For not having written in a while. I'm in the midst of moving myself and my possessions to NYC and of starting a completely new life. The past week and a bit has been spent saying goodbye (not alvida/goodbye...the other see-you-soon type) to my near and dear (in both spatial and emotional terms), packing my life into 1.5 suitcases, spending two hours on a tarmac waiting for remnants of Hurricane Bill to pass through the East Coast (then giving up and walking off a cancelled flight), arriving in the centre of the world at 830am and crashing almost in the middle of Times Square, finalizing an apartment, buying furniture and whatever else one needs for a home (from toilet paper to desk tops), shopping along 5th Avenue (not advisable unless you want to be stuck in a tourist trap or have enough money to shut down the boutiques for yourself - just go to the other Burberry or Abercrombie stores in town), and taking hundreds of pictures at the M&M store. Tomorrow is my first orientation! Things should settle down over the next few days, and I'll be back to talk (well write) about this city.

Also on the plate: wandering around, taking pictures.

ps: Rushdie's here...in the city that is...

A Hate/Love Relationship

I admit it - I hate Christmas. Hold on, before you get your rope (or whatever else) in a knot, let me contextualize and define that statement. I don't hate the festival of Christmas, I hate the materialism that comes along with it. For years, around 3 or 4, I've railed against the horrors of materialism that befall our society every time Christmas rolls around. Shops start advertising the event months in advance, small children start writing letters to Santa (or their parents if they've gotten over the Santa myth) outlining (often in excrusciating detail) their profligate desires, and people whip out their credit cards to scoop up as many things as possible. To me, it seems, or seemed, a complete waste of money and time. To me, there were better things to celebrate, better things to throw money at (well not 'throw; 'donate' would be a better word), and better ways to practice writing.

I don't know why, or even when , I developed this hatred of Christmas. Perhaps it was a result of my family's Christmas celebrations, that usually ended with my little sister in tears because my parents bought her something she didn't want. She'd come down the stairs in the morning, excited to open her presents. My parents would be grinning, expecting my sister to love her gifts, and then she'd open them and complain. And then sulk for the rest of the day. I'm not sure if I sulked as much as she did, although I remember certainly doing so when I got a minidisc player and not the cd player that I'd wanted. Looking back, that was a stupid reason to sulk - minidiscs were state-of-the-art then, and CD players were already becoming obsolete. But, being a kid, I really didn't know the difference. All I knew was that all my friends had CD players, and I had something else. After 3 years of failed Christmases (and yes, we only had a tree with presents for three years), my mom decided that she'd had enough, and announced that she (and my dad) would no longer buy presents. My sister was devastated. I was surprisingly happy - maybe because I was older and knew that my mom's decision was the right one.

This year, I don't know what it is, but I've felt the Christmas spirit that everyone's always talked about and that I'd never felt. I don't know if it's because of the recession, or because of the freakishly cold weather we've been having this year, or because I'm a bit more sentimental this year given that it's probably my last winter in this city, but it's been different. It all started with me asking my mom to get a real tree this year (we'd had a fake one for a couple of years). This is only our 2nd or 3rd real tree ever, but it's by far the best one we've had. For one, it smells beautiful. The shape is also amazing. As well, it doesn't have any of that cheap tinsel that I hate, and is decorated pretty nicely (kudos to my sister for that).

I've also noticed people being much nicer this year - randomly. I've seen more people donate their time and money to the less fortunate this season than I have ever before; and I've seen people smile more, talk to each other more, and be in better moods generally. Maybe I'm imagining things, looking at my city through rose-tinted glasses, but, in all honesty, I don't think so. I don't know how to prove this to you, so you'll just have to believe me.

Maybe it's the recession's effect, but I haven't seen people going wild on spending this year either, which to me, is a good thing (not the recession of course, the curbed spending).

Whatever the case, Christmas this year promises to be special, and I've pretty much decided to make every single Christmas after this one as special as possible. Heck, it only comes once a year, and is a time when everyone can get together and celebrate. It may be religious in origin (Christian, Roman whatever), but in my mind, it's the coolest secular event of the year (more so than Hallowe'en as well!).

Merry Christmas everyone, and Happy Holidays!

Like Alcohol and Drugs...

I fell asleep on the bus yesterday - which I always do. I usually fall asleep within 5 minutes of getting onto the bus, and generally wake up right before my stop.

I did the same yesterday - was asleep really quickly, and woke up before my stop. Now the problem is, I fell asleep again and - you guessed it - missed my stop. I'd never missed a stop before (in 4 years of bussing twice a day) and so was really disappointed at having 'broken my record'. 

I hate alcohol and drugs, well soothing bus rides and hot summer afternoons. 

And thus another random post on RFS comes to an end...

Rain

It's raining - I wish the sun would come out.

I hate how the rain automatically makes you feel gloomy - even if you've just woken  up and went to bed happy. 

Bah - this day's going to suck.

Cracking a Watermelon Open With Your Bare Hands...

It was a beautiful day yesterday - finally - a nice reprieve from Juneuary and its horribleness. So a friend and I decided to go down to the beach for a dinner-picnic (dinnic? picner? - both sound weird). Anyways, I got home in the early evening, changed into my sweats and flipflops, grabbed a water bottle and one of those beach-mats (the ones made from what look like reeds - popular in Mombasa, that's all I know). She picked me up and we drove to the organic food market (awesome place - expensive with my student budget but totally worth it). We picked up some olive bread (so yummy!) some basil goats cheese from THE island and a mini-watermelon.

We got to the beach - one of those small ones on the way to the ferry terminal that barely anyone knows about - and sat down on the sand. The tide was coming in so we made sure we were above the driftwood line - so we wouldn't get wet. It was by far the best dinner I've had in a while. We started off with the bread and the cheese - which I ate too much of (got mad at myself too because I can't exercise it off right now - read the previous post if you don't know why).

Then we decided it was time to eat the watermelon - only problem was that we didnt have a knife. So she placed it on a log, we found a sharp-ish stone, and started making holes in the watermelon. After two such holes, she was able to rip it in half and we both dug in. Honestly, there's nothing like sitting on a beach, watching the water and the sunset and the dogs and getting your face covered in watermelon juice (we didn't bring spoons either). It was amazing.

It was hard getting to the fruit at the bottom, so I ripped my half into smaller pieces - so much fun - and ate/drank it. By the end, all we had left was the rind - it was completely white, no sign of watermelon anywhere!

Then we went for ice-cream...mmmm...straciatella - the best flavour ever!

Pictures once I manage to upload them from my phone

The Sad, the Bad, and the Horrific

Congratulations to me for writing a post before 10pm. Why? I've got a meeting in 22 minutes and I have time to spare. And dumdidum I brought my laptop to campus today - which means, facebook, msn and selfistan.



I was on the bus today - as usual, it was raining. How sad.



And I saw a person - homeless (very sad) who was holding a guitar (very good), without a case (very bad) in the rain (oh the horror)



I felt bad for them: the homeless person and the misused guitar.



But, unfortunately, sanskrit was calling and I couldn't help either


How would i have helped them Arriba asks?



I would have....hmmm...hmmm...hmmm



actually...



no idea...





thus concludes another random post on Selfistan


(ps: this was actually written thursday at 6:08pm)

Ratrau - At Night

Once again, I am at my laptop in the early hours of the morning. I haven't been in school for 3 weeks and I'm already figuring out how to get through my second all-nighter without crashing onto the table. So far, tea, toast and banana bread have seemed to work. As well, it's pretty cold in my house, so that's another reason I haven't fallen asleep. But with my scarf and two blankets, no idea how much longer that's going to last.

I love these times of the night. It's uncommonly quiet both in my house and out on the street. The road outside, constantly buzzing during the day, is now silent. The other members of my household are also asleep. It seems, at this time of the night, that I'm the only person in this world, well, in this neighbourhood. And given my solitary nature and love of quiet corners (which doesn't necessarily mean I can't be gregarious), I adore this time of night. Perhaps that's why I keep on doing all my work during it.

Actually, that's probably wrong. As much as I love the night, all I want right now is some sleep and rest. But, I guess that'll have to wait.

Back to Work

Although yesterday was the first day of classes, I went to my first class today. Yes - I skipped the first day of classes - but it was for a good cause - the first-year orientation. It was, by far, better than my first-year orientation. I was completely lost that day, hated my group leader, was bored, wanted to go home, and constantly wondered why I'd decided to go to this particular university. First year, like that orientation, was horrible. I made a couple of good friends (thankfully), but I went to school and then came home. I'd hang out with people from high school - and that was it.


Second year, was much better, but I think I became who I am right now during my third year. I got more involved and I started doing better in school - much better. Well, my average during my second year is my highest yet, but the third-year one was just a couple of percent lower - but still in the same letter grade. During last year, I started falling in love with my university - with the beautiful campus, with the work that I was doing, with my friends (you know what I mean), and with the squirrels of course.

I took courses over the summer, so it's not like I haven't been on campus for the past 4 months. But yesterday, I still felt like I was a fish that had been put back into water after having been taken out. There's something special about being with your friends, running into people you haven't seen in months, sitting outside in the sun, and feeling like you belong.

I'm definitely looking forward to this year - to the social stuff of course (which will be so much better now that I'm not taking a full course load), to the academic stuff and to the extra-curric stuff. Now, back to my Sanskrit translations

Bbbbzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz....

So I had a bumblebee - a very cute one in fact - sit on my hand as I was waiting for my bus one fine sunny morn. And I realized, how wrong I had been about the black and yellow buzzer. It sat on my hand quietly, and then flew off after realizing that I was not a flower - perhaps it had been attracted by my hand cream.

Here goes...an Ode to the Bumblebee (apologies for the cheesy-ness of the verse)

Oh humble Bumblebee

Most misunderstood and misconstrued

Pollinator of flowers

Tormentor of lil kids

Sit on my hand this fine morn

And do not buzz away

horrible...yes I know...you get the point though

Feeling Hot Hot Hot? Have a Water Fight

Before I start, I need to make something clear. The 'feeling hot hot hot' song is sooo overplayed that it's gotten a bit annoying - although, I love the 'ole ole' part of the song. The reason it's in the title is that it was the first thing I thought about and that it speaks to the hotness of the weather here in V-city. On one day, 6 high-temperature records were set around the province - crazy.

It's been in the high 20s the past 2 weeks or so - no rain whatsoever. The busses and the traffic in the centre of town have been absolutely aweful. It's usually been about 5 degrees hotter inside the busses. Imagine being stuck in traffic in that heat - with no a/c and with people all around you. Harsh. Yes.

So, on Saturday, thanks to the amazingness that is Facebook, V-city's largest waterfight was organized. Around 500 people showed-up over the two hours of the fight - me being one of them. It was absolutely awesome! I don't think I've had this much childish fun for a long time. What impressed me the most was the civility of the people there. Most people barely knew more than 5 others there, but had no problem squirting water at complete strangers. The standers-by were perfectly safe. No-one's camera got wet, neither did their clothes. As well, people followed the only-squirt-those-with-guns rule to a 't'. Needless to say, we got soaked.

After the fight, my friends and I went to the kids water park - still fully clothed (in board shorts and t-shirts though) and splashed around like we were 2-year olds. We got some odd looks from some people, but most had become accustomed to us big kids taking over the waterpark. Where do you think we got all the water for the fight from? It was an amazing Saturday.

The only downside - my sunburnt nose. But, I can live with that.

That's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die...

~me

Music @ the Corner

i've been somewhat depressed for the past couple of days and i was standing at the bus stop today at around 9:30pm. it was a beautiful night and a guy was sitting at the corner of the street singing "Yesterday" by the Beatles. He wasn't a great singer or anything, but sang with so much passion it was quite touching. And then it started raining slightly....


That's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again first you must die

~me

Let There Be Light...

During this recent bout of horrible weather in V-city, I started inching towards the world of blasphemy. Shaitan decided to disgrace himself further to attain angelhood and I hoped that I were the Christian God...

I wanted light.

If I were the Christian God, I would've said...

Let There Be Light

and would've solved the problems of V-city.

I didn't have to be the CG. The light's back. I'm warm now and am not living in my refrigerator.

I still don't like the Russians.



That's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again, first you must die


~me

From Russia, With Love....ya right!

Aah..so it's been a while since I last posted here - for two reasons. The beginning of this week (Tuesday/Wednesday) I had exams - my last ones..and then after that...surprise surprise the power went out.

There was a huge storm on the Wet Coast. Seriously. 150 km/hour winds in some places (we were lucky; it only got to 90 km/hour at our house), falling trees (which were really freaking me out) and no electricity. At the height of the storm, 250000 people in the city (almost a quarter of the population) were without power. And did I say that it's colder here than in the capital city - which is usually covered by snow right now. The storm's winds came from Russia. What the **** are the Russians doing these days? Gosh..first they poison people with radioactive material (polonium 210) and now they send winds across the Pacific to mess with our lives. Argh..not feeling much love towards Russia and Vladi these days...

So. Our power went out Thursday night...so technically, Friday morning (3:00am) and still hasn't shown up. Needless to say, our house is freezing. There was so much frost outside I thought it had snowed...It's so cold that we've basically emptied our fridge and are keeping our milk on the kitchen counter. Hmm, maybe I should consider sleeping in the fridge. Last night, I slept in my sleeping bag - the one that's good for sleeping outside in -20 Celsius weather. And when I woke up, I needed food. So, shivering, I went downstairs. I'd decided I didnt want to drink the milk so was going to have some bread and butter. But...the butter was frozen - solid. Somehow, I managed to get it onto the bread. And then my dad came down...and I had the brilliant idea to melt the butter over a candle...it actually worked.

We still don't have power so I'm at Veepland...which is so nice and warm and has light! I've been feeling bad for the homeless people in the city. First, we were under a boil-water advisory for 12 days (and it was snowing/raining horribly hard during that time) and now there's not much power in the city. It's so cold in my house. Imagine how cold it is on the streets.

I have no idea what's happening to this side of the country or why it's happening. If it's because of global warming and its side effects, then this country and the rest of the world need to get their acts together and do something. This is the first time I've experienced something like this. It's not that bad right now, but what if it gets worse? What if this becomes a regular occurrence? Then....we're screwed...seriously screwed...


That's it for now...ciao, adios, au revoir...and remember...to be born again, first you must die

~me

The Weather in Selfistan

I'm stuck in a dilemma - one of white powdery snow, non-potable water, darkness. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, my dilemma is one of the weather. Quite beautiful weather, in fact, but horribly annoying - non-potable water, skating-rink-like university campuses, and blackouts. Did I mention that I live in a city that has been consistently rated among the best 3 cities to live in - AROUND THE WORLD!

But, my real question is, can the weather change in Selfistan? Like, if it's Selfistan, shouldn't one have the ability to change the weather at will? Can't I, theoretically, say "Let there be snow" and make it snow? What about "Let there be sun"? Does not having the capability to change the weather in Selfistan defeat the entire purpose of said land and contradict the definition of said said (sic) land? So, if I'm fed-up with the weather (not totally fed-up..just with the ice and the hundreds of milimetres of rain and the undrinkable water - yes, that's what non-potable means) can I just imagine that it's nice and sunny? and then be happy?

Ahh, the power of the mind. I heard that yogis - the actual ones, not your neighbour who goes to yoga classes every week - can actually cause themselves to levitate with the power of their minds. I find that fascinating. If the mind is actually powerful enough to lift something, can it also avert/push something? Can the power of many minds together halt a falling atomic bomb in its path of destruction? Can the seemingly fantastical Mathilda-esque actions be made real?

Fascinating....

But enough digression - you'll find that I do this a lot - digress that is. Back to my original idea(s) about the weather - you'll also find I like talking about abstract and sometimes odd issues. Outside, it's -10 Celsius, which is absolutely crazy. It's icy out there and there's a lot of snow. Apparently the powers above (god, gods, mother nature, clouds) are going to drop some more snow on us. Fortunately....the weather in Selfistan is much nicer: 15 Celsius, with a 10% chance of showers .

That's it for now, ciao, adios, au revoir....and remember...to be born again, first you must die

~me

ps: i took that picture....while making a snow angel...yes, I got wet