Family - and er etc

I've been reading some of my rants on romance or the lack thereof... and giggling some more! It seems like most of my blogs on the subject have been when I need to complain about it. Rather sad, that. I have met guys who are interesting to talk to, love God and actually care about what you think. I have friends who are fun to be with and easy to make conversation with and who are passionate about the right things. I'm not a 'misandrist (?)'. But unfortunately, my blogging on the romantic front in this country seems to be tempered by my reactions to the Indian-single-abroad-must-marry syndrome or by the it's-natural-to-be-jealous syndrome... Now the first shows symptoms such as:

Hey, you're Indian and you're beautiful. Can I have your number? OR I love you. OR God gave me a revelation last night... [to the uninitiated, this can happen two days into having been introduced, if you happen to be a single woman and Indian ethnically and living in, as it happens, the UK].

The second has only ever happened once but apparently in certain unnamed (non-Indian) parts of the world, it is the general way of life!

It was my parents' wedding anniversary yesterday. I have truly seen love that grows more with time... PErhaps my perception has also grown and changed. They're extremely different but have been so committed to making a family that they have stayed together and learned to love and grow and I will always be grateful for that! It's given me a pretty clear idea of what I want if I do get married as well. You get married, you stay married... and learn together. You put God first. You make the gestures - it's rather pathetic if only one of the two does, and the other doesn't show that he or she cares at all! It's even more pathetic when neither do. I have learned from what I've seen and what I haven't seen. If I ever do find the man God has for me, I want us to share a vision... not bargain about it along the way. If God says something, we both need to learn to obey - implicitly. I could go on and on.

But mainly, I want to thank my amazing parents for our family.

Glad glad glad

So here's a late-night two minute spew spree that had to get out:

I am in INdiaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!! Can you tell? Extended my stay by a week. I haven't stopped eating since I stepped on that flight. It was deep fried prawn today, will be chenna idli tomorrow - anybody ever try this absolutely delightful southern Indian deluxe version of idli?! I used to call 'em pregnant idlis. Too true. And biriyani, and naan, and amma's curry and periamma's curry, and non-sweet corn on the cob, and MANGOES (God is good ;D).

And the family - the amma-appa-periamma. The dogs. Tassi makes this gorgeous grunt-purr when you carry her... And comfortably slumps into the crook of your arm, for you to roll her little sausage-body whichever way you please. Prince has learned the trick of late. He has the grand melancholy that afflicted the Romantic poets. I believe he would have had much in common with the likes of Byron etc. But not a lot to say, the poor darling. He is too overawed by the incessance of Tassi's talk. Talk, she does! The puplet has so much to say to Appa these days. I am not being an overly crooning, gushing pet-owner. She actually lets loos a stream of multi-tonal and elongated sequences of trills... they could be growls if the word did not carry with it such a measure of unfriendliness. Even when she tells people off for leaving her on her own, she grins.

Yes. Dogs grin. So there.

Well, the weather's brilliant. Rain is always ace here. And I like the excitement of thunder. But the sun is out every other day in its scorching intensity. Madras is Madras, you gotta love it.

So, interview done. Data ends tied up. A week of pure study to do. And I am sooooooooo unsure of how to deal with the stats. Anybody wanna volunteer to help? *Brave smiles* Please :D

I am now rather like chocolate cake - dark brown and lots of fat. There is much more to write about. Almost as much as there is to read - all my old friends of my girlhood are begging to be revived and they are! But oh, there's so much to do.

God, gimme grace.

Also - this persecution against Christian minorities that's been spreading in the nation for a time is sorta heavy on my heart... I have all these questions of what-if. Most of them are answered pretty quickly. I am so thankful for the family that I was born into. Even more thankful for the time when Christianity took on new meaning for me. Glad it was a personal and not a familial decision. Glad that it wasn't a lonely decision either - glad my parents were clued in too.

In the words of Pollyanna: I'm glad glad glad.

S'more Growin' Up

God loves me. So. Much. And every time I naively forget, He lets me know in no uncertain terms. Sometimes I forget to let myself be hungry enough for him that it can turn my world upside down and cause me to cry with an inside-pain that fills me with joy.

Having got that outta my system, I am only back after a couple of weeks but it could be a decade judging from at least the amount I think I've grown. I've learnt that within the church we can all be faulty and I've learnt that while I can hold onto the fairy tales and the goodness, not everyone wants to. And that that's OK. Really. I've learnt how some people can be racist - and that it can happen even when they are Christian. I've learnt instead of raging at the injustice, I can laugh at it. I need to rage too - but I need to know that I can make a choice of reactions, and that the choice need not always be the same. I've learnt how people can forget that they've been wrong. I've learnt how I can't always forget that about myself or about others and need to. Mainly about myself. Because when I go to heaven and order two cafe lattes and have that chat with God, it will probably go something like this:

Me: Jesus, you know on the 17th of May, at 11 o' clock...
God: Hang on, which May??
Me: 2008, of course. Well, anyway, you know what I said to Claire that must have really hurt her. I want to explain___
God: (interrupting and laughing pretty thunderously) Subiksha, I have no idea what you're on about!!!

In case, you're wondering - nothing was said that hurt Claire on that date and Claire is one of my best friends atm and I've shared the joke with her. However it is quite likely and easily verifiable that I have done and probably will do pretty damnable things. ANd God has actually chosen to forget all of them. Already.

So yes, I've grown up (although AB insists I grew down!). I didn't want to, and I hope to God I'm not all done yet as I quite like the Disney movies and the naivete. Especially the naivete. It's comforting. Although it's not that pleasant when you're shocked that Indian girls get drunk, Christians smoke, 'friends' can actually get jealous, Christians flirt not-so-harmlessly. Don't get me wrong - I am shocked at all of this and probably excuse it conveniently in myself. But yes, when it's there, the naivete is comforting.

I love you always!!

xxx

PS Hello, amma, BO, SD, Grafx, Ta'fxkz, DA, Skinny, Switchblade, LT and everyone else!!

A piece of India

Sunday before last, church was out on an evangelistic visit to a village. Two villages actually - and it was way cool. The village women actually cooked a huge meal for us at the end of it! Some more slurping! There was a childless couple there - and they made me get a bit weepy. I mean why? But we looked at each other tearily and were girls. I hugged her and she hugged back - ain't that a kick in the head? ;) And btw I believe the answer to my why question (this one at least) is shortly in the pipeline! After the meal we went to the next village - AND let me tell you, one's internal whatchumacallits defo seem to work on the psychological moment!!!

Anyway what can you expect when they give you a banana the size of a small forearm after your big meal??!!?? LOL LOL LOL. Mad. I should have known though. I got on that bus and halfway to the next village I needed the toilet. And oh how! So I waddle up to the woman highly conscious of myself imagining the eyes of everyone on me! I turn around to see this random pastor following me, in enthusiastic helpfulness. Well, what can you do with him? None of those other watchful eyes were on me - I wasn't half that big a star. So I just plucked up the courage and asked the lady of the house if I could please use her toilet. I wasn't expecting none too posh, but I was hoping she'd say there was one...... She did. She said yes. Random Pastor said no. And I bobbed from one nod to the other shake like a pendulum with jitters. Until I turned to the woman. Look, my speaking eyes said, woman-to-woman you know how much I need this, can you just ignore protocol, forget listening to the pastor-in-authority and just jolly well show me the old john??? However it actually came out quite garbled - The Me said "It's there? Yes. Toilet, there is? No?" The Me was not disappointed. The fellow-woman smiled. Indeed. The pastor reiterated his stand on the matter. But hey, her house, her rules. So I followed, while Random Pastor followed faithfully.

Ten steps down, the lady turned to me with a shyly generous smile, and a broad sweep of her hand, indicating that this was her domain and her largess was meant for the benefit of all, including humble me, in that typically Indian open-heartedness. "Everyone goes in the 'maidanam'". That is the Indian word for a large open space.

:O

I know what you're thinking! LOL I did not.

PS Ever since switchblade blogged about Scrabble and isc, I've gone and gotten addicted again when I thought it was over! I go 500 up and down in a day sometimes! Uh!

PPS It is just great to play the guitar again.

P-this-is-the-last-one-S I have a story feeling and I cannot let myself sit this one out.

Slurps, sighs and spaces inbetween

Sluuurrrrp. Fish fry and chicken curry, appam and fish molie, praline souffle and chocolate mousse, bacon and chicken foccaccio with chicken cheese paratha, chocolate icecream, amma's curry and mangooooooes, kalappam and honey dosais, sapotas, pasta and a whole load of Mars bars. I repeat - mangoes.

I repeat, with just so many rs and us - sluuurrrrp.

Siiigghhh. Starting with the perfect bamboo bag of old blogdom, I have had a satisfying look at all the little arty knick-knacks you could imagine, and then intense shopping like saris and salwars and kurtas and tops and jeans... I have had a rummage through the library - notwithstanding the fact that the idiot told me there was some problem with my membership and I couldn't take out any because I couldn't produce the little tiny square piece of paper he gave me at least 7 years ago! I have had an elephant ride with my nicely nervous father - Malathy decided to poo as soon as we plomped our behinds on her! I have shopped for smellies - which are a lovely girly-girl thing to shop for and spices.

I repeat, with just so many is and gs and hs - siiigghhh.

And I have no slurps or sighs, just speechlessness for the awe that comes upon you when you realise that God's actually so much more beautiful than the wonder He's created. Bird-watching (one of them composed a new tune every day, he was the Malabar whistling thrush), elephant-riding, spice-trailing, exploring, mountain-walking, deer-spotting, photography and family.

And here's a random, bizarre conversation...

Appa: Hello? Yes, this is room 503.
Voice on other end: 503?
Appa: 503. What? 503. Er, 503 - 50... N, what's the room number again??
Voice: Right, 503.
Appa: Yes well, we have a problem - we have no hot water and we need to be at the airport in a couple of hours! (Btw, it was freezing.)
Voice: Oh, hoat 'oater? Should be there sir...
Appa: No, it's not. Is there a certain time when it'll start?
Voice: No time. All the time.
Appa: But I've asked and we still have no water - see, if there's a problem with the water -
Voice: No proablem, sir.
Appa: No, if there is - what I'm saying is... you just send up two buckets of hot water, no??!
Voice on other end: To drink, sir?

PDAs

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Yesterday, I had a sudden 'moment of consciousness' (not quite Virginia Woolf though)... Who am I kidding? Love is stronger than death - true. But it is still a choice - yes, even if you are head over heels in love with someone as well as loving them (slight difference there ;D ). Love is an act, and if you don't or cannot show it... you are doing a rubbish job at loving someone.

This brings to mind something I did not think I would blog about. It was a random conversation with my mum about public displays of affection. Many Indians look on it as 'wrong' even. I am a borderline Indian, I suppose :O - I think public displays of affection can be cheesy and stilted and superficial, and many things are meant to be private. Agreed. But, within the bounds of public behaviour codes, it should be a very natural thing. The reason I take this stand is many Indians are quite ashamed and embarrassed by any open affection particularly between spouses... Wouldn't that offend you? That someone didn't want to accept loving you? Quote me right - affection, NOT steaminess :D LOL But public displays of affection (PDAs as I have heard them called) have been around since eternity and the greatest, heart-tugging-est one came about 2000 years ago from a Man who wasn't a man... Yet He was the perfect Man, the ideal from whom any man worth his salt (or woman for that matter) must take their cue. He was honest. He declared Himself. He wooed me when I would have run away and thrown His love back in His face. He doesn't just ask once or twice or even three times, He keeps asking and keeps forgiving. And then, yeah, the PDA I was talking about - He said He'd die for me... and He did. On a cross. In front of a laughing, weeping crowd. Maybe they were laughing at His foolishness. Maybe I did. It was the best thing He could have done. And He did it.

But we do it all the time. We downplay how much we love somebody and then believe our own lies. Imperceptibly at first. And then slowly a moment of consciousness comes - it may not take too long. But the truth is that, for however short a time, we have forgotten the choice to love. To spend time with them. To give of ourselves to them. We break promises and make loopholes to tell ourselves we haven't, not really. When it hurts is when you see that one side of the covenant is constant. So when I keep saying I love Him, but there is more time in my life for nearly everything else... what do I really mean? The message He gets is the message I'm giving. Sure, we talk and discuss every little incident of the day. We make notes to each other about every little moment. I say I love Him - and He means it. I do too, but I forget so often. And because it hurts, even once is too often. But I love Him - my first love - with every bit of me there is to love (or not to love :) ). I couldn't imagine a life without Him. But I know love is also an act, a choice, not just an emotion - and I forget it far too often. Recently I haven't done too well - not that I am very good usually. He brings me to reality always. But let's just say, I have learned the importance of time for the One you love, not just with Him.

So I say again, for the nth time on this blog, Lord Jesus, I am head over heels in love with You - and I am finding it's the right way up :D

Another ramble

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I was reading another blog recently and he (the blogger) complained that he had begun to blog just for the people who read his blog, instead of for himself as he had started. It's funny, I suppose, you keep wanting people to read it and then your line is crossed and you're going to have to start all over again. At least that looks like it's a long time coming by this way...

For the record, I have declared myself a pig! For the last ten days, I have been such a TV-watching, couch-dozing, juice-swigging, on-the-way-to-fat pig! Okay, okay I'll hold out on the verbal abuse, but it is true. Mum cooks all this fantastically mum-elicious food (and she can cook!) and when it's on the table I just sit there and keep finishing it ably aided by my sympathetic father. I've gone so used to the idea of finishing the serving on the table at home, because that's how I would cook, or RM or any of my single housemates would!

It is not helping. About three days ago, I weighed myself and I was a kilo more than I was before I landed here. Which makes it one kilo in seven days! Which makes it 'orrible!!!! If I keep this up, I shall be waddling up the drive in the uncanny semblance of a giant milk chocolate Swiss roll! No wonder, one of the dogs is a fat, but cute, sausage. Waaaahhhhh - so I dutifully promise myself I shall not eat as much. But I do, simply because I can't be bothered to be a perfect weight. It never mattered to me, but the trouble is I am also nearly entirely sedentary what with the job search and my happily retired dad who is always wanting to do something and therefore drives out everywhere and drives me everywhere I want to go too. It is fantastic. I LOVE being chauffeured by appa - ahhhh, luxury! And I do not always 'enjoy' bus rides. But this inactivity is sometimes stifling, LOL. I felt as if I had achieved greatness by moving my ahem and getting a bus and sitting in a hot, dusty, crowded van. I also now appreciate the space that some places have! In the bus, I had forgotten, everyone's hair is for sharing, as are everyone's peeves and foul language... Thankfully I was not standing and have not been reminded what else can be to share, however much one might protest. But I do not think I can actually go back to some of it now, it makes me wince and want to cry. But other bus phenomena I recognise with familiarity and not quite as much pain. LOL - it was great getting on a 29M again, and that feeling of thrill - with lines such as Ha!, Thank You, Lord and See what comes to those who wait, some of better tone than others, running through your brain, when you have missed your 29C and are rewarded with a 29M - had the smiling, silent recognition of a very old acquaintanceship without a disturbed history.

Ah well, that old feeling ;)

But this evening we watched a couple of Gaither DVDs. That is one bunch of blessed and talented people. And the feeling of family is so strong, it reminds me of BCC sometimes. It must be such a privilege to sing together and grow singing together. I wish one could ;O I hope at some point we will have people to sing with, and that we might stay together. Actually, you know what, we do :D and God asks us to make a joyful noise after all, doesn't He? But some of those songs are very insightful, as songs have a trick of being. And he sang "Thanks to Calvary, we don't live here any more". Sometimes it is so easy to let a reaction to what used to be creep up on you. Most times the reaction is fear - and fear can be so pervasive in satan's use of it, that you hardly notice it come. But it does, and you react as if redemption never happened and there had been no forgiveness, for you or for another person. But I pray that God will help me remember (for I know it already) that the old is really out.

We don't live there any more. I don't live there any more.

Full Circle - and some

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That link up there is another amazing passage in the Bible. He knows what the dark holds. He knows. Makes me want to cry and dance and hug Him and... shout... and cry again!

Not long ago in my ahem short span of life so far I experienced a reaction to my own race that wasn't exactly the most favourable. I have ranted in other blogs about the whys and the why nots. I am not going to rant here because God's brought me full circle. A couple of weeks ago I went to my first Tamil fellowship here, and I've been meeting Indians all over the place and they have been a blessing in many ways ... A restoration (it's ongoing at the moment) of my faith in my kind :)

Don't get me wrong and I have no wish to offend :). I love my family and friends back home in India - and funnily enough, nearly all of them happen to be Indians! But some of my friends reading this will know exactly what I'm talking about and it has hurt. It still hurts to think of it. But there is a certain restoration of trust and chipping away what little rancour there may have been that I am very grateful for.

I went to a couple of fellowships around the valleys. Everyone had questions about what I was doing and where. Inevitably I had to tell them that I was not going to be regular, and the questions were answered fluidly. I laughed (sometimes I had to blink away the quick lacrimation, lol) and told them I didn't know and hopefully I was going to find out. One darling little lady whom I was meeting for the first time and whose shoulders came just up to my own not-too-high hips gave me a hug that was so warm and tight - it was like she was holding on to me and letting me feel that she meant it. I was surprised by the unexpected firmness of the frail thing. Just one of the many lovely Welsh people, I have met. I know some of these people will pray for me too.

I am looking forward to going to India. I have thought about the big hugs I will give and just what I will say to some people. I have thought about how I will try to be nicer to some others. I've also noted that I may not have to actually try with quite a few because maybe I have grown up a teensy-weensy bit.

I am looking forward to going home. Because it is in God's perfect will and I have received confirmation of it both much before and immediately after it was done. And because home is where God wants you to be and learning that has helped me over 'homesickness' over these couple of years.

I am scared of going to India. Or rather there are moments when I have doubts - not about whether it's the right thing but about my ease in some situations. Because I don't know for how long I'm going to be home in India or whether I'm coming back or when... And I know that answer will not be sufficient for all the Indians I meet with. My answers to questions about why I am leaving this job indefinitely, about what I am going to do next, about how long I will stay in the town, about when I'm going to post a flippin' matrimonial ad... The why and the when questions... I have dealt with not knowing the answers, I have even found peace in it because God is good and He's a great teacher:). But I don't know and Because I feel God want(s/ed) me to, I know He does... will cause a reaction that while I picture with amusement, also makes me sad.

I know just how those brows will be raised and the heads will be cocked. Some of them will laugh as if I was making a joke. I admit I do laugh at it sometimes - and I will laugh with them :D. But I'll be stumped when they continue No, seriously, what next?? It is sometimes harder because Indians have their lives planned very well. I admire the focus - I have done exactly the same. Would do too again, if I had the chance. But given the way things are, my (informed) guess would be that there would be this niggling compulsion that will not go away if I ignored what God is obviously trying to do. There are times and people when and with whom God allows plans to work out and life to go as seen in the mind of the liver. He has done that so many times - down to the tiniest detail in my life - because that's how much He cares. But you know what, there are times when you just don't know and the sailing's easier because neither the mapping nor the navigating are in your hands. It's your holiday and if you're wise you'll enjoy it - because worry as you will, the ship will go its course.

Is that easy I wonder for the well-meaning 'uncles' and 'aunties' as we like to call them there to take in? Actually it might be worse for the younger people. People my age will all have their lives in order and be looking for the next degree or the next qualification or the next career move or the next life change. Yeah, but what d'you mean, you don't know? Or a few moments later So you've applied and you're waiting huh? Because they are sure they want that near-perfect (let's be realistic now) life they ordered. I wonder... does it make sense to you when I say yes, my life is perfect quite often, and it is definitely what I ordered, but I don't know what it is? Let's just say I ordered the Chef's Special Best...? No, actually, I really do mean I don't know it all. It is not a metaphor for not knowing which University or which job... I am waiting, but not for results... I am waiting on God. I have some answers and I feel soooo blessed with those. I don't have others - I feel equally blessed. If it does make sense to you, drop me a note or even a hug :)

Yes, I am looking forward to going home. Because even if I know my father and I may not agree, and I know I am going to be a lot more individually demanding than I used to be perhaps, and I know my mum might find it all a bit taxing, and I know I might need to find a church, and I know I am entirely unsure of how many of my friends I will fellowship with considering the number that have left, and I know it will be so good to feel my dad giving me a good hug, and I know I can touch my dogs' wet noses again, and I know my mum's cooking will be great and we can talk on the sofa instead of online all hours... and even if I know there is a lot I don't know and that it is quite something to know and have known what God's chosen to show... I still know it is home, because of family, friends, love but more importantly what I have said before - home is in the centre of God's perfect will.

How I gatecrashed a wedding

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Hmmm S & P's wedding on Saturday was glorious. It was such a great witness to all the people that had come. S's family were all Hindu, and of course, Indian. Most of them were, at least, except for VP, MP and her mum and brother (and all of them Indian origin except for MP!). I shall write about God's full circle in my life soon. But for now let's focus on how gorgeous S was, and her little bridesmaid, R! Let's, of course, also focus on the whole wedding, my role in it (as I'm so erm important and it was flippin' hilarious, after the initial embarrassment!) and the little stories that go with a wedding.

Let me say the service was sufficiently weepy (lol) but more importantly, the presence of God was definitely tangible. They made it very clear it was a Christian wedding so that everyone who came was exposed to worship and the Christian basis for marriage. Pastor Chris also gave them an insight into why a relationship with Jesus is fundamental for any relationship, especially the most sacred on earth, to work:) One thing that has always struck me is the fact that in India we never sang 'In Christ alone'. I love that song. Tis beautiful ;) Another thing I appreciate about pentecostal weddings (I am not being denominational, it's just something missing in some other denominations) is that the bride and groom have communion together. That's something so essential as one of our Christian covenant symbols. It is a symbol - I'll agree before you hit me with that - but it is the symbol of a covenant.

Well, after that lovely worship and he kissed the bride (studio audience: siiiiigghhhhh, awwwwwwww), I was asked by MP if I wasn't coming to the hotel and that he would see me there. Now... let's get serious. You are all dying to hear (I hope ambitiously!) about my mortal embarrassment. Tis a good laugh, so you shall hear it. Because I'm soooo nice, I don't mind being a complete idiot! Which I most certainly was that day! Ah well, like V said, God knew what He was doing. But then again, like I said, yes but S didn't!

So I said of course I was to MP. Now S had told me the previous week to make sure I got a lift to the hotel in the evening. And I assumed they were fantastically generous even if I had only known them for three months max. Since I'd definitely been invited to the hen night, I thought it was normal for the British too to invite you to their wedding parties. In India, you are just invited to it all, on the wedding day usually. I knew there was a big do at the hotel and had heard all the details of it and it had been planned for months! So to make space for one was, I knew, quite a big thing. I also knew I was only invited for the evening. What I didn't know was that between the evening and the afternoon, there was something for a select few normally, both at the hotel! I might have guessed had it not led so naturally to my gate-crashing that it caught me completely without suspicion! LOL

So I went up to D as asked and requested a lift. A sari is not very bussable! Not at all, with a thick winter coat on! She then told me that she was not, in fact, going to the hotel. She was just going to an afternoon tea and cakes at the bay with a friend. But she knew just who might be able to help and she sorted it all out and left me with a lovely couple and their very plush Jaguar. In fact, it just might have been this year's. If it was last year, it was a later one in last year's models. I know from M & VP ;O They were so kind and we had fun. They then told me that they were going to P & J's for tea before the hotel (ah, the elusive hotel!) and they wouldn't hear of my not coming. Neither would P. I apologised properly for inviting myself (well, at least I wasn't invited directly by the hostess!) and then on the way there, tentatively asked R & J, the couple who were giving me a ride, what time the reception was. They said "Oh... you mean the food... Oh that won't happen till at least a quarter to six! We've got plenty of time. But she did say there was a surprise so we shouldn't be too late".

Now in my limited vocabulary as an English teacher six-ish constitutes evening. As it turned out, it was even later than six. But THAT is how I gatecrashed a wedding. I didn't realise. I even sat at a place meant for someone else! How fantastic was that! There was just one person who couldn't make it, and he was even at M & VP's table! I mean I was at M&VP's table, LOL. I thought they had decided that he wasn't going to come so they could invite me!

It only dawned on me with horrible, slow inevitability when people started coming in later for the barn dance and sandwiches! And since V and I were then engaged in an involved discussion of the hilarious-excruciating (depending on perspective - V's or mine:O) circumstances, the photographer thought it was a Kodak moment. I was even photographed in my most embarrassing moment! LOL

LOL LOL LOL

But the wedding was spectacular. The bride and the groom landed in a helicopter! The view of Cardiff was breathtaking from the hotel. The meal was sumptuous and the cake deserves a mention - a white chocolate, strawberry cream-filled profiterole mountain that the happy couple slashed at with a large fencing-style sword! MMMmmmmm. It was a roast dinner and a five course meal. VP looked lovely too. R had her natural curls and tints, in a half-up, half-down do. She looked stunning. S of course topped the day. It was a two-piece sequinned lavender-white bridal ghagra choli, that looked sufficiently combined enough for S. And the marquee was fantastically detailed. I was too tired to dance but thankfully the embarrassment was late enough and not mortal enough to prevent an enjoyment of the wonderful Saturday.

S&P went off to Cornwall and are enjoying their brief stint there. Their real honeymoon's in May when they're going on a cruise - it's Alaska or bust!

Pas Chris told the church of their courtship. Some of it I know. But CD, when she prayed for S, mentioned their faithfulness to each other. P has been asking her every year to marry him. They started together SIXTEEN years ago! And every year, when P asked, S always said she did not see why as she was perfectly content as she was and wanted nothing more. Poor P did, of course :). But how absolutely gorgeous of them! But last year, when S went to Barcelona she sent P a card that made him keel over in shock. The card read 'To my fiance'. A phone call later ('Really, S?') and the rest is history. She is so blessed to have found and waited for that kind of love and faithfulness. They had very interesting toasts about their childhood too. They are indeed a special couple.

Way to go, S&P.

Mistaken chivalry and Indianness - random

I bewail my mistaken chivalry - I so want a picture outside the fairy-tale castle like my cousin! Instead I generously offered a picture and forgot to be snap-happy myself! I shall do it some day :)

I have also discovered that I am unfailingly Indian - I had a meal sorted for him because he was visiting... all this notwithstanding the fact that he couldn't, of course, stay with me as the house isn't mine! And I feel awful for the fact that I live here and he bought me a meal (as I wasn't sure I could afford it) instead of my meal, or my back-up plans of KFC or Cadwalader's... LOL, how my Indianness stares me in the face at times! But I love my tan;). Btw, the meal was absolutely lovely and it was interesting being introduced to Portuguese food @ Nandos et al. I am not complaining :D. It filled me up and I've only had dinner today! And Nandos was yesterday's lunch!! Thanks, RK. This is just an observation - it didn't matter that Ga had more to give me, or RM, or that SC could not afford a gift for my do, and that I managed to get something together for her... In fact, all of these examples took me ages to think of, and this is an edit! LOL. But when it was family, Indianness happened, I suppose. Probably because I'm my father's daughter.

Ah well, we did the packed lunch on Saturday and anyway, BO says I can feed her instead and I shall...! He hee. However, I hope BO has a constitution for frequent biriyani ;O. Or if she can't come to Chennai, maybe it won't be biriyani and I don't have as great an opinion of K aunty's cooking as amma's.

Mother's Day

More than a week ago, a friend commented that in one of my blogs I was describing the-mother-of-the-century kind of person but her character was lost in my style of rambling ;O I'd like to say thanks for picking that up - I didn't even know I was writing it, LOL.

Well, my mother may not be the mum-of-the-century (in fact, I'm pretty sure she doesn't want to be that iconic, LOL) but she is quite fantastic and she's definitely my mum-of-the-century! For all you competitive types out there (I have one specific person in mind who is bugging me on MSN now and will probably not read this blog anyway!) - please note that I am sure all your mums are fantastic, that's what mums do. But this is my space to abuse ;)

Now I've been meaning to write this for ages but have always known that it would be an exhaustive subject... my mum. I shall try and spare her as many blushes as possible. And no, she's not perfect, but she's got me for a daughter... and bringing me up must have been quite a task!

Amma's always been one of my best friends after God. Some times more than others. There have been times when I have cried and sobbed because she didn't understand - I would not have sobbed had anyone else not understood! There have been other times when I have wished I could tell her something because I know she will find it amusing too - very few people I know think like that about their mothers... It's usually some special friends... Well, when I have those moments I tell God and laugh, and then wish I had amma, AB or LT to share it with... JR and GJ too often.

It's Mother's Day today and I haven't got a card for her because I've already bought her a birthday card this month combined with Mother's Day wishes and all of this is flippin' expensive to buy and send! But I also can't manage to find quite the right size. I will call later on but there will be nothing much to say and yet we can keep talking - because we have said it all and she knows the details of my life without asking for them! That is the cause of most of my bear-ishness... I realise I have told her all the details and she forgets a few... Of course they are too many and too convoluted in my head for anyone to remember, lol - but I have never been very logical I'm afraid. Just ask ER ;O

I am so blessed to have a mother who is a friend. I think in some ways it makes some of us different. Growing up without siblings, with a mother many years older than I, with the most amazing sense of fun; being treated as her confidante once in a while; more often than not being allowed to argue like a brat until my father decided to enter the fray - a lot of it has gone into making me the person I am. That explains some of my quirkiness too;) But in so many ways I have wished I could have her steady faith - something I am so blessed to see in action and hear about its growth too.

When I was sixteen or seventeen, my American cousin and her kids came over to stay for a couple of months at ours. It was fantastic. Interesting too - little D would wake up at an unearthly hour in the morning, stick a Coke can in his mouth and walk around until someone switched on the games for him. Later as the fancy took him he'd help himself to sweetcorn or carrots and carry on gaming or pretending Power Rangers with me. I was his heroine because I could play Super Mario :O LOL. Little L was always very interesting to talk to - she was then just beginning to be a big spieler - and she could handle spice! They are both two of the most adorable kids. But KD, my cousin, asked me a question which I found strange but have always remembered because of her reaction. She asked if I ever found... found... And I broke in "What, if I ever had a boyfriend?" K said "Yeah, would you tell your mom" (I told you she's American;O). I simply said "Yeah, of course I'd tell her." I thought it was a bit of a silly question really, and put it down to K's ideas of Indianness maybe borrowed from her parents' post-exilic zeal, or just generally K's removed-ness from India, etc. But K quickly asked my mother if she'd heard me say that. And did she realise what a compliment it was? K was paralleling her own mum and her - they have a great relationship too - but it was what led to this conversation. And my mum said she did and gave me a hug... Hmmm, the now ME would not be very happy about the term 'boyfriend'. The now ME is not very happy about my adoption of the term there when K was sincerely looking for one even! But the now ME would still tell amma - and lets amma read my blog.

But telling amma about whether or not I've found someone is not really such a big issue - well, it has never been probably because it's been 'not', LOL. It's those times when I realise I'm growing up, am a bit more 'independent' (overrated word!), and maybe think differently from a few things I am used to... Those times I realise how very formative my mum has been (both my parents indeed, but mostly my mum in that area)... and I know where I differ because they are few and far between relatively. I may have done a lot of growing up recently but I realise my amma's still a friend and a mother and that's saying a lot. Never mind that I find the clucking mother-hen times annoying, or the best-friend hugs sparse now... I can still say that, and I am blessed :)

Yellow brick road................................................. OR A Rant

It's funny - I've had a most awful day and yet I don't really want to write about it now. I was wallowing in pity on my bed (it's a huge, lovely one btw and great for wallowing/messing/shelving/losing things in/dreaming happy dreams in/painting ceiling murals in/talking to God in... you get the picture...;O) and I thought I would write one of those depressed blogs a friend has been spieling out lately.

Something along the lines of

Cold
lost time...
cold
tired
aches
missed opportunities
cold....

LOL - you get this picture too? Well, she's been on at it for sometime and in my haze between sleep and waking I imagined writing something like this as a surrealist-ish record of my emotions. But I'm not going to.

If you're up for it, I'd be glad for us to take another delighful ramble without a map. Just follow the yellow brick road and you will get to Oz ;) It will be an easy ramble with picnic stops on the way. No stylistic endeavours, no poetry except the fluidity of mood-swings and all of those on the lighter end you may be assured. It is spring. The ramble will probably start with guys, their greatness and their foibles... uh oh, too feminine a word... fallibility?... But I want a plural noun... ummm follies. Now give me another word instead of 'greatness'.

No, not grandeur! My word, you've got bad taste... But I really want a word starting with 'f'... to niiicely match with follies, you see? Am I clever or am I clever!
Fantasticity - shall we settle for a coinage?
Ok done.

Now we will probably ruminate on the fantasticity and follies of men (well, I just had to be positive and put in both in the title... that will probably be the only time you hear it from now on, girlfriends ;O - just kidding... I do think people are fantastic anyway!) Then we will move on to this entire business of onlineness, orkut specifically, facebook and msn and gtalk generally, and tagged furiously! We may stop to taste the goodness of chocolate and all things chocolate on the way. We will then maybe discuss girls too, but WE will not be objective as we erm happen to be rather inevitably subjective on that topic... We reserve the right to be wholly subjective on any other topic as well and reserve the right to change the terms and conditions of our ramble at any point :). Note the timely smile :D. If you are still reading, you are wonderful!

Why I came in to write after having vowed to give this space a break was because I was looking into profiles on Orkut from a university community to see if there was anyone I'd missed out or forgotten. I am now curious to see personal profiles not for any vested interest but because I now know better how to choose invites even from friends of friends! And it has been interesting of late to find many of my acquaintances - and one friend - falling heavily (;O) in love in these online communities! And I do not mean shaadi.com or match.com or eharmony.com or any of those other crazy adverts on large-sized signage in India and un-closable pop-ups worldwide! Please don't throw the arranged marriage out, we have loved it too long and hard to give it up! Co-existence is possible and healthy.
Anyway I have a few simple rules - anyone 'here for/looking for' 'dating/whatever he can get(cf facebook)/games/relationships' is crossed out. 'Relationships' in some limited vocabularies means 'can i go out with you please? all you need to do is say hello back to me'.
- anyone who says 'Ideal match: You' gets lobbed in the bin too.
- anyone who says 'you are looking very nice/u r very spiritual girl i likes spiritual girls, i be liking your profile, can i make friendships with you' needs to be immediately alerted to the fact that marine engineering was never my forte.
- if my friends choose to go on this insane rampage of decorum ;) they are allowed but shall be informed of my extreme scepticism. If they are friends, they are ISA approved ;) Certain friends' friends - like BO's friends or DP's friends - are also automatically ISA approved. The judge's decision is final.
Those are my rules - I suggest you adopt them, she said imperiously.

Do not worry, I have not turned the final bend. I have just had a long day and am now in a rather silly mood :)

But what makes me rather sad is that most guys seem to have a pride problem... I suppose girls have it too but one of my guy friends says that is very often a guy thing. The sad thing about that is not simply the existence of the problem. It's the non-recognition of it. Guys reading this, if you disagree you are welcome to say so. In all probability, you don't. Right, which woman worth her salt would actually like a guy who is all about himself? Men often do not like women who don't listen, so my English lesson Unit 3 reading and listening components tell me. Lol - here's the funniest bit! This is from linguistic research - Allwood, Coates, Cameron, Thomas and me... Women make minimal responses and backchannel often as part of their supportive 'scaffolding' in a way in conversation... But men often follow the backchannelling with a turn of their own thus taking over speaker position and the place of power in a conversation. However, - and this is not backed up with research - with the feedback mechanisms and minimal responses, some women can easily possess the appearance of listening but whether they really are is anyone's guess. My prof once told me that I was a good listener. I was amused, and he laughed and said 'Well, at least you nod your head at all the right places and smile and look interested throughout the lecture. In fact, that's one of the things in language and gender'. EW is an absolute darling, btw, as anyone who's met him will agree but he doesn't teach language and gender. I didn't attend sociolinguistics either. Now if you let me go on, I shall be quoting my dissertation and everyone else's! Tsk tsk... you should really let me see that glazed-over look in your eyes. I'm usually good at that - I stop quite soon.

Anyway perhaps he is attracted to a woman because she gives much! But he sure looks proper loser-material when he says 'I want, I want, she must love me, she must feed me, she must love my family, she must understand my needs, she must respect my community'. Well, erm, WHAT about HER? And it's not women's rights I'm campaigning for at all - it's just bad CV style I'm lamenting, LOL. If you don't let her know (I assume you hope this she is looking!) what you like about her, let alone what you can give... you just don't get the job. ESPECIALLY if you're from the Indian sub-continent, and that desperately seeking, surely you are used to writing 'bio-datas' instead of proposals?? Lol, and a CV or cover letter that does not say what interests you in the company you're seeking and why they should choose you and what you can give, just does not make it - or so my careers advisor always said. It is also very intriguing and laughable that most men like flirting and do too! :( Sad too :(. But why am I telling you this? My blog has only a few readers as I know it, and you are probably very discerning. But hear me rant, will you? It may amuse you and it does amuse me :D

But yes, that does annoy me about some men - DP once said about another guy we know that he was so full of himself! Maybe it's the Indians in this place... but they are so confident that they have a corner on you just because you are Indian. I mean I'm sorry, I was never in love with every one of my fellow-people even when I was there! Why would moving make it imperative to be friends with every countryman or -woman? And why would moving change my parameters of making friends? One called at 3 am two weeks into my moving into a new place and all I could think was zzzz who gave him my number zzzzz! LOL Another sat in my room till all hours talking! And the same one once told AP and JR and me that if the story wasn't about him he was not interested. I do plead guilty to minimal responses from the depths of sleep to this one!

And girls... why be so naive?? Please SP - although you may never read this - do NOT try to change one of those seekers, especially the non-romantic, hard-core ones, by showing him that you care for the greater good of his soul... Honestly, he will only assume it's a different pick-up line and delight himself in it! Yes, you know exactly what I'm on about, lol. People, it was just plain stupid. However, I'm a nice one to be talking! BO will bear testimony to one sunny London morning! (Different blog, different place).

Ah the delightful lightness of my ramble has lost its flavour ever so slightly in this impassioned plea... has it not? And I did mean to mention the fantasticity of men too...

There are some lovely ones who will always tell you when you need to be told that you look great. The kind of guys that will pay you a compliment in the nicest way and you are sure they are not flattering you, or flirting necessarily, or even saying it because they look for positive things to say (like dutch comfort ;O). There are very few of these guys around but they are lovelly ;) My old pastor back home was one of them. Actually my pastor back home in Bangor was too. Awww, how I miss them! My dad, of course, knows how to pay me compliments... But he makes my mum grin and go 'Yeah, right!' so I guess he might have that effect on her ;OO LOL. And then there are the kind of men who can make you talk and make jokes. And they will listen and not be bored. There are very few who will actually get it too! And then there's the wonderful kind - they are usually random unknowns - who will laugh and call you an endearment on the bus or at church and pay you a lovely compliment just because you've smiled at them and they're older people. Bless them!

Compliments are dicey - they need to be just right for the person you're talking to. I, personally, don't take them very well, I'm afraid. I remember agreeing with a classmate when I was in middle-school on this subject and I'm taking a LONG time to grow up on that one - as on many others, lol. I am quite convinced it's flattery or flirtatiousness usually. I'm getting better however. But I've always remembered this bit in 'The Von Trapp Family Singers' where Maria describes their manager as a man who always knew just the right thing to say. He met this nun for the first time and they really needed to make contacts and get themselves into a niche - and he picked her diction! Telling her she had perfect diction secured her favour for life, apparently:)

I don't know if I pay compliments right - I am quite particular about them. They have to be true. They have to be very positive. They have to be needed. They may circumvent some parts of the truth depending on the enormity of the need! I do keep positively reinforcing my students, like a good teacher! I keep going 'brilliant', 'fantastic', and on the rare occasion, 'oh, you've made me so happy, thank you!'

But I definitely have the gift of the gab... I may not really gas all that much in person. Look at the size of this blog? I am online far too much these days. I am restricting my orkutting and was restricting my facebooking - but now with the new pub church venture, we are going to have to use facebook. And I must get on my mother's nerves and she must get on my father's nerves while I keep her at the computer for hours! And MAY I please rant about this Tagged.com? The website just had me give it my name and picture because a couple of friends kept asking, and immediately it sent an email to every flippin person on my list! MY grinning mug and a cheesy line or two to my profs even - have spent the better portion of the week apologising! Ah well... Some of them were so adorable they actually signed up! EW didn't but EW got my apology almost immediately.

As for chocolate, which doesn't really enter in here but must be on the yellow brick road... God bless all chocolate makers:)! What's your favourite kind?