What religion do I belong to?

Some of my friends wonder - am I going to covert to Christianity?

This is probably because I regularly go to Church these days.

My answer: Just because I enjoy eating in restaurants, doesn't mean that I am going to stop cooking at home. Or buy deli food and eat it in a park.

I am not an atheist - it cannot be all a big fat co-incidence. I do believe in a Higher Power. What I don't believe is giving it a name, restricting it to a certain colour and entering it in a race ("Who is the best of all?")

I like the bits and pieces from each religion.

I like to be in a Hindhu temple because of its serenity, but I do NOT like it the concept of a punishing God or when menstruating women are not allowed inside. I HATE it when saffron-clad swamijis live like Kings and own Benz cars, while middle class people donate their ancestral lands to religious organisations, in the name of donation.

I like the sermons of a Church, but I do NOT like when it preaches that Man is a sinner and he has to repent all his life for his sins. I don't buy that. If Man sinned, why hasn't God just destroyed the whole world in a rage? If He can be angry enough to banish His children from Eden, why not just terminate it all and start afresh?

I like Islam, because it is actually a peaceful religion. The Quran says "...whosoever killeth a human being... it shall be as if he had killed all mankind, and whoso saveth the life of one, it shall be as if he had saved the life of all mankind... (5:32). But I do not like the burka, or the fact that it is the cradle of modern terrorism.

Buddhism, Jewish principles, Native American Beliefs... I pick the good things from all religion and shape my spirituality. Only in this way, I can get as much as possible from all religions.

This may sound blasphemous for some, but it is what works for me the best. I firmly believe that each person has to form his/her own manner of prayer and worship to his/her God.

Farewell to my 10-year old cat

The second I heard my mom's quivering voice on the phone, I knew you were dead.

It is crazy that you chose to die of kidney failure just one month before i was due to return back home.

I’m so heartbroken for not being there with you… I am wondering what bad karma i had, to be excluded from your last moments on earth...

I have always been pragmatic about death. I probably would not cry if any of my friends or family dies. It is pointless to even cry, because we all are going to die anyway.

But I never even imagined a situation where I would miss the moment of farewell. That, to me, is worse than death, and trust the Fates to know that beforehand and use it to cripple me...

I am so angry at my personal situation that required me to be in London during the past few months, away from you...

I am feeling guilty because mom told me how much u missed me the past few months and I didn't think about u much bcos of my study commitments...

I am feeling terrible bcos I remember how many times I went straight to my room from work, without giving you a cuddle... and the times you had to sleep alone in the living room, when you wanted to sleep in my bed, I wouldn’t let you bcos you shed too much... I am so sorry about that too...

Jojo, mom is crying non-stop bcos she feels that she should have noticed the symptoms earlier and taken you to the vet... and here in London I am unable to cry bcos I KNOW I caused your death... had I been in India, I would have whisked you off to the vet the minute you looked unwell...

And my one wish to have you cremated, so that I can have your ashes in a urn, was not destined to come true... you were buried in a community cremation ground... and the stupid laws in India forbid women to enter there... so it looks like I won't even be able to look at the spot you were buried...

i am wondering... is this a punishment from god for the way i have been slacking off in the past few years? I'm sure it is. Otherwise, why would you leave me so suddenly, after being my only companion for the past 10 years? My only friend who didn't care that I was fat, average and lived a life full of mistakes?

I know u lived a happy life with us, u certainly wouldn‘t have lasted more than a year in that neughbourhood we rescued you from… but it really hurts that I was not able to give you so many things that you deserved to have… like balanced food or regular vet visits... u never had a garden to run about or a toy to play with or a brush just for yourself... i'm very very sorry for that... this is one of the few times I hate being middle-class in India… where pet “expenses” are considered a sin and a nuisance…

At this stage, I can only mourn for what i didn't do for you... may be, when this pain becomes a little more bearable, i can think about the happy times I spent with you... how grave and zen-like you normally were yet would comically do some stunts to make us laugh… the way your heard would droop enduringly when you fall asleep sitting… and how you loved to snuggle in our armpits… and the way you hissed and boo’ed at the street dogs, from safety of our balcony…

And how you “spoke” to the crows and pigeons in our terrace… how you will jump on us if you can smell food from our palms, as we come home from a restaurant… how you would terrorise my mom if she was cooking fish, bullying her so much that she would give you the lion’s share of it… and the way you terminated the rats in the neighbourhood, holding them in your jaws and making everyone run away from you ferocious gait into your corner in the house…

And the most happy memory of you I have is how I used to pick u up and keep you on my chest, while I lay on the sofa, watching TV… how mom used to shout it was unhygienic and that you might scratch me… and how wild it drove her when I kissed you on your nose or head… but I’m so glad I didn’t think bloody hygiene, am so glad I have you some love, in return to the unconditional love you have me for the past 10 years…

Farewell, my sweetie, my purr bucket, my mojo jojo… named after the cranky monkey of powerpuff girls, which you used to see with us when we were kids… all I can ask for is your forgiveness… for leaving you alone during your twilight years…

In case you ever wondered why I was gone… if you are being born again, please come into my life once again… I will know it is you if I can ever bear to touch another cat again…

------

A sign... may be?

I attended the sunday mass today, at El-Shaddai, Golders Green.

I was blown away by the sermon.

It was my first sermon, in a church that celebrated god with music and dance. When I entered, I was surprised to see that the interior looked like that of an opera hall. Huge TVs hung from the cerling, and an orchestra played in the stage. Then the worship started. Beautiful songs praising Jesus and the God. I can always appreciate a religion which includes singing and dancing in its worship.

After worship, the sermon started and for the first time in my life, I listened to a 2-hr lecture without yawning once. That, by itself, is an achievement!

Secondly, the topic of the sermon. Lately, I have been praying for some sign that I am on the right path... and I think I have been answered. The topic was about how God has specific plans for us, and he leads us from one place to another, which may seem confusing and pointless to us, but is all a part of the big plan for us.

Because we may be blown away if we see the big picture too soon, God leads us slowly, haltingly, from one place to another, over the course of days, weeks, months. It may seem frustrating, it may seem tedious, it may even seem fruitless, but if we are patient enough, we will be rewarded one day.

I have to tell you - I could kiss the pastor for this sermon. No one in my life before has EVER said anything this positive, this encouraging. Sure, this is a Christian sermon, but I don't care - for me, God is God, without fancy names. He can be called Jesus or Krishna or Buddha, but for me, God is the humble pastor in a church, who plants hope and joy in the hearts of desperate people.

El-Shaddai International Christian Centre
http://www.elshaddai.org.uk/thechurch.htm

29...

Happy birthday to me.

No. of Gifts: 3

Gifted by: Myself

----------------------
Gift no. 1: A (free) haircut
----------------------

It is a well-known fact that hairdressers in London are desperate for hair models. Gumtree.com is full of emails from the salons, looking for people to offer their (head) hair as a canvas for trainee hairdressers. The service is entirely free and perhaps my only chance on earth to use the services of top-end salons.

So I decided to volunteer my tresses and get a new look for my birthday. It took me nearly 20 minutes to find CITY CUTS. After alighting from St. James' Park, I stuttered and stumbled my way to the salon, which in reality is only a 5-min journey from the tube.

I admit, I was quaking when I sat on the salon chair. I have had so many horrifying haircuts in my life that I have almost lost any hope of getting a good one. Am I going to spoil my birthday now?

But it proved to be a great experience. Though the training happened in a cramped basement, the senior stylist was this cheerful guy who called everybody "darling" and immediately put me into ease. He listened patiently when I told him what I want for my fine, flyaway, super-thin and super-problematic hair, and he instructed an Italian intern to give me a graduated bob.

Yep, I had one.

And yep, it was sensational.

I am NEVER going back to long, stringy, limp hair. Ever.


----------------------
Gift no. 2: Buffet Lunch
----------------------
There is a road that's adjacent to Artillery Row (SW1), which is some kind of a flea market. I had a buffet lunch there, for 5 pounds. Not great, but not bad either - good enough for a fiver. I did miss not having dessert.


----------------------
Gift no. 3: The cheapest and most fabulous clothes shop in London
----------------------
Best part of the day - I discovered this great little shop FRENCH KISS, which had the most amazing clothes, all costing.... 5 pounds.

I am SO hitting it again as soon as I get my salary next week...

One of my fav web comics (quick read)

The Right Number is a projected three-part online graphic novella about math, sex, obsession and phone numbers presented in an unusual zooming format.

http://www.scottmccloud.com/1-webcomics/trn-intro/index.html

How do you really know if you are on the right road?

I am frustrated.

Because I do not know where I am going.

How do you know? Who shows you the path? Who tells you the way? What sign is revealed to you?

And how positive can you be that your eyes and ears will be open when some one shows you, tells you, signs you?

The more I progress, the more I get restless. The progress seemes increasinly meaningless to me.

So I can write. So I can write well. So I am published. So I am good looking, healthy, affluent... SO WHAT?

What is the purpose of it all?

I pray everyday for some sign, that I am here, in earth, for some kind of purpose. I hope I get it soon. There is no wait as torturous as waiting for your destiny.

Compliments and complaints

It happened again today. I was called downstairs around 9pm and shown some juice stains on the floor. "I know it's late and that this is a bit anal, but I pay a cleaner and I don't want to come home to a dirty kitchen," said my employer. "You have GOT to make sure that the place is spic and span after the kids' tea time."

I admit, I was caught off-guard. I thought of the countless number of times I have cleaned up in the past 3 months, both on weekdays..... and many weekend mornings too, when I am not paid to do it, just because I wanted to make their weekends a little easy. I thought how the kids would always ask me to make their tea and breakfast even during weekends, when I'm not working and how I gladly obliged them.

I thought of the way I spend a pound every week to get sweeties for them because they always ask me what I have got for them when I come home from a sunday outing. I thought of the times I went without dinner because her husband would come in from work just when I was about to eat and express interest in the food and I would have no choice but to offer my share.

Lastly, I thought of how my legs would ache after I run around every day, making dinner for three hungry kids and tidying up the kitchen as much as I could possibly do while helping them do their homework.

And I have to confess that I almost lost my temper.

But if my employer was anal about cleanliness, I'm anal about confrontations. I just gritted my teeth, smiled and told her, "Sure, I will clean it up tomorrow."

I realise now that what I should have said is, "I always tidy up everyday after tea time EVERY SINGLE DAY, but if the kids make a mess in the kitchen AFTER I retire to my room, there isn't much I can do."

Well, I will save it for another day. I really don't understand... How can a juice stain on the floor on the DINING ROOM mean a dirty kitchen? How can any one hope for a spic and span kitchen all the time when there are 3 children in the house?

And - this is a same-side goal, I know - WHY is it that one doesn't find any pleasure in routine compliments but gets upset on an occasional criticism? Yes, my employers have told me frequently that I'm doing a great job with the kids, and till now, all their (polite) complaints have been on the housekeeping part of mine.

But this is the best I can do! Seriously! I have never cleaned up so religiously in my entire life!

Oh well.

London Book Fair - nearly 30% off for online registration

The London Book Fair is the global marketplace for rights negotiation and the sale and distribution of content across print, audio, TV, film and digital channels. Ticket price is £40, but if you register online, you get £15 off!

Event schedule
http://www.londonbookfair.co.uk/page.cfm/Action=Seminars/t=m

I will be there on all four days, except for April 18.
Special guests:
James Patterson, bestselling author
Vikas Gupta
Anita Nair
William Darlymple
and many others

Registration at -

http://www.londonbookfair.co.uk/page.cfm/Action=Team/t=m

Resisting the urge to... advice

Some time ago, I emailed a writer, a fellow acquaintance, quite successful in the world of commercial writing. We used to be `email` pals so when I read her submissions in a critique group I belonged to, I wrote to her about how similar our lives are. I am a few years older than her, so I saw her, in the pattern of her life now, living in a situation which will be a huge impact on the next few decades. So I added a few sentences in my email about certain good and bad decisions I had taken in my life, and basically telling her to weigh in all pros and cons.

I certainly wasn't interfering or telling her what she should do with her life. I wish all the time that some one mentored me when I was young and stupid, so I really didn't think that I had crossed any limits - in my mind, I was simply sharing tips with a fellow writer from my country. She and I used to be quite pally-pally in the early days when we both were struggling freelancers, so I assumed that it's not out of line to send an email like that.

But I received no reply at all for that email, and since I knew the writer was relocating to another country during the time I mailed, I thought she was just too busy to keep track of her things. But I was surprised - I knew her email was working, so I always wondered what was up with that. Did I offend her with any of my comments?

If yes, I hoped she had replied back to me, instead of acting like a school girl. Because I found recently why she didn't reply my mail for a long time. I read a post in her blog, which was basically a rant against all people who sent her unwanted advice in email. It was obvious who she was hinting at - yours truly.

Now, possibly this person did get unsolicited email about her personal life and she has every right to hate them. Still, I was really hurt that my email - which, I swear to God, wasn't about gossip but was every bit genuine and full of friendly advice - too was classified as one of the irritating ones. If that was the case, then I would have appreciated a reply that said `Drop dead, Rads`, instead of a roundabout post in her blog, mocking all the people who emailed her (yes, she got a lot of emails - but that's what happens when you talk about your choices and your personal life all the time).

After reading her acerbic post, I wandered around a few days, feeling as if kicked in the shin, and gradually recovered. It is her loss that she is so full of herself she can't differentiate between genuine emails and gossipy ones. I have learned time and again that people change once they taste the fruits of success. It was my mistake to assume that this person would be the same as before, when she was up and coming.

And I, obviously being the wiser one, should learn to mind my business more.

Can there be a better breakfast than THIS?

Soft cream cheese and strips of smoked salmon on a wheat bagel, with a sprinkling of sesame seeds and a twist of lime.

A small bowl of (1) sliced banana and (5) chopped walnuts.

Muller's probiotic Rasperry Yogurt drink.

Sure, it totaled 500 calories and £3 (the bagel was 2.65 at Waitrose) but even a budgeting dieter can afford to have a rich breakfast once a week. And this one has all necessary nutrients - good carbs (banana), omega 3 (salmon and walnut), fibre (wholewheat bagel), and digestion-aiding culture (Muller drink). Not to mention tasty cream cheese to satisfy the glutton in you!

Yum. Yum. Yummyyyyyyyyyyy.

So to answer my question above, NO.

I'm. in. Toothache. Hell.

I had the most horrible toothache for the past 2 days. Before coming here, I had a root canal treatment in India and it was the most bitter winter in 18 years when I arrived in London; I think the combination of a root-canalled tooth and sub-zero temperatures made sure that the pain will flare up every now and then, if I get careless and eat anything that's too hot or too cold.

Now, this is good news for my dieting, as it means that I cannot have hot fudge or ice cream. But it also means that I cannot drink steaming soups or anything straight from the oven, even if it is baked sweet potatoes. Arrrrggggghh!

And forget about going to a dentist in the UK, esp. if you have no dental insurance. A simply checkup is 75 pounds, so god knows how much it will cost to get my tooth alright. I am better off spending that money on a flight ticket to home. At least I can be with my family for some time!

So, advice to people thinking about leaving their country to work in a cold country - please take care of your teeth and make sure they are in top-top condition when you reach your new residence. Otherwise, you might have to survive on painkillers and clove oil, like me.

Happy Birthday, E!

I'm quite bummed today.

It's the birthday of one of the kids I au pair, and I was not invited for the matinee show. So when everybody is running around, getting ready for the movie, I am just sitting inside my room, wondering what is wrong. Friends and relatives are here for the party, and I have not been told anything by the parents. Should I stay? Should I leave, if they are having an event? There is a cake in the fridge, so am I to be there in the party?

Just as I was thinking this, the voices of the family singing HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU reached my ears. For a second, I thought they were cutting the cake and I was incredibly sad. Then I realised it is 9am and nobody cuts a cake in the morning! They must be waking up the girl by singing to her and giving her presents.

After feeling sorry for myself for a few minutes, I just made up my mind to go out and meet my friends. My host family is generally very cordial and generous to me (for e.g., they always give me their own travelcard to use in the weekends) so I had to conclude that they were not ignoring me deliberately.

May be they want their space, to be their family time. May be they just forgot, because it is all so hectic. I AM kind of an introvert, and I have made it clear many times that I value peace over mayhem so may be they thought I wouldn't want to participate in a noisy b'day party.

So instead of wrecking my mental peace, I just gave my present to the birthday girl and made a graceful exit. Life's too short to worry about these things!

Fed up of Moaners

I'm often annoyed at people who are always cribbing at their lives. I am sick of them transferring their bloatings into me, depressing me. Their laments are always in these lines:

Oh I wish I had better hair/lips/hips/whatever (You are healthy and intelligent and educated. You are not poor and you are not ugly. Plus you live in the era of internet and actually own a computer. You have a job and you can go to a spa if you want to. Therefore you belong to the tiny % of the world population who are luckier than the others. Asking for something more than that is asking for a kick in the ass from the Fates)

Oh I have so much to do, so many peaks to conquer I can never rest till I have attained them all (Talk about having insecurity issues. Only fools refuse to feel happiness at small accomplishments. By the way, Do not call me when it is lonely at the peak, IF you ever find one that has enough space to fit you)

Oh I am so talented but I am wasted in this company (Are you a baby? Just resign and look for another job. There is no other solution.)

Oh I so much want to do something for the world (For God's sake, move your lazy ass from the telly on weekends and visit the nearest charity)

And then there are those who speak and act in the following language: ME ME ME LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME! LOOK HOW FAR I HAVE COME! ALL BY MYSELF! I AM THE SUPERMAN/WOMAN! HEAR ME PRAISE MYSELF 24/7! AIN'T I SO GOOD! AIN'T I THE BEST! BAH BLAH BAAAAAH!

And here's what I have to tell all these losers who don't know how lucky they are and spend their time bemoaning their problems or laughing at others: EAT SHIT, PLEASE.

View of Thames over Richmond Hill

Thresholds - a day retreat to define 2009

The day retreat was great. It was organized and conducted by Roselle Angwin, author of Writing the Moment. I came away with a sheet that had my goals for 2009 on it and a heart which was loads lighter sans pentup guilt and pain. It was a retreat that targeted both the psyche and the mind. I wish more of these were in India.

Probably the three best things I liked about the retreat are:

1. How Roselle used the day to give us writing exercises to write about our past and the present. She made us be really be honest with ourselves... most answers were private, so there was no need to be superficial.

2. She frequently said this - be gentle with yourself. I wish people had said that to be before. Roselle herself was the embodiment of gentleness... her quiet and warm way of talking soothed all of us.

3. Potluck! LOL. Everyone had bought something to share for lunch, and it was one of the tastiest potlucks I have ever been to. Yumm!

So. For those who'd like to know what the course is all about, here's the flyer:

THRESHOLDS - this wild and precious life

Change your life with this day retreat course…

Using writing as a tool it’s a chance to look at where you are: your essential values, your visions, dreams and goals, your work/life balance, your loves, achievements and losses over the past year, your creative life, and what you'd like to create for yourself in the next year – all in the safe support of a friendly group.

10am – 4pm £40/£30 concessions

Refreshments will be provided but please bring vegetarian lunch to share

TO BOOK:

www.fire-in-the-head.co.uk

roselle@fire-in-the-head.co.uk

Couchsurfing with Elly

I had never tried anything so daring before - COUCHSURFING!

There was a day retreat in Exeter, a town about 3 hrs away from London, that I was very interested to attend, but my travel options kind of allowed me to be in the town only for a night. I would read Exeter on saturday night, and leave on sunday evening! I really didn't want to spend 25 pounds on a hotel JUST for a night... hence I researched and found Elly on the couchsurfing website.

As I arrived in Exeter quite late in the night, Elly was kind enough to pick me up from the coach station and drove me to her gorgeous one-bed flat. Her couch was so cozy and warm! And so was Elly - she was such a lovely person! This is my first couchsurfing experience and I kept wondering what I have gotten myself into - I who am such a paranoid person!

But Elly put all my doubts to rest, she had cooked a great dinner for me - sweet potato pie with pita bread - and we spent a couple of hours talking (sorry if I kept you awake, Elly!) about everything under the earth. The next day, she walked with me to the town center and made sure I found the address. Talk about friendly souls and the kindness of strangers!

Thanks, Elly, for your reference in my profile and I hope to see you soon!

Richmond Park, near my house

My first class at Birkbeck

It was bizarre to be sitting inside a class again after five years. But definitely not unpleasant. For the first time in my life, I was a student in a place I wanted to be, about to study a subject I am crazy about. I'm taking the 6-month creative writing module at University of Birkbeck, London.

I knew that wednesdays were going to be hell... I need to drop the kids at the school at 9am, and then run to the rail station to catch a train to Waterloo, and then change to tube, then walk 10 min to the class... and did I mention the class started at 10:30am? So it was like a mad race against time, but here's what's so perfect - the transport system in London is so punctual, the trains arrive on the dot and I always manage to get to class with a few minutes to spare!

It was a surreal walk from the tube station to the university buildings in Russell Square. The place reminded me of Union Square in NYC... the same architecture, shop facades, shops. But the people were better dressed and more relaxed, hehe. It was fun to gawk at the buildings! I know - I studied architecture at college and I should not be so blown away by first world architecture, but I am always awed when I see a fantastic facade or a magnificent building. It's so difficult to be blase about it!

So when I reached the university buildings, I felt so much at peace, looking at the students and the lecturers walking by, talking animatedly. Looked like I am finally going to get the college experience that would be a good memory. I reached my class in time and took a seat right next to the instructor. Well, one more first! I was always the backbencher at school and college ;)

The first class was more like an ic-breaker session. We all, about 14 of us, introduced ourselves and then Sara Boyes, the course instructor, introduced the sessions and the syllabus. I already knew more about it because I have been reading the course link every day for the past 3 months. I liked the way we did exercises and then discussed about them... I am so used to email critiques that I had missed talking - as in verbal communication - with fellow writers. I sure feels good to look at a person and smile and talk about what they wrote!

As the hour progressed, I began to realise - contrary to whatever people might say or I might think during weak moments, investing the time and money to get away and do a course like this is perhaps the best decision I had ever taken in my life.

Day in the life of an au pair

So I am going to be the live-in au pair for the Norman family (name changed), for their 3 daughters. The last one if a kintergardener and would be my special ward. My working hours are weekdays 7:30am to 9am, and 3pm to 7pm. I can take up any p/t work on my free hours, and apart from free room and food, I also get a pocket money of 100 pounds per week.

My day begins like this:

5:30am
Get up and freshen up. Do some browsing, answer emails, update blog. Eat a bowl of cereal.

7:30am
Wake up the kids. The older ones will get ready by themselves, but I need to dress and feed the youngest one, who's 4. Make sure they have their bags and put on their warm clothes. Lock the house, switch on the alarm and drop them at school (a 5 min bus ride away).

9:15am
Return home. On wednesdays alone, I go straight from school to central london to attend college till 1pm. Clean up the kitchen. Make breakfast and watch TV till 11am.

11am to 2pm
Writing time.

2pm to 2:45pm
Heat up a bowl of soup for lunch. Usually call parents to talk, or might again watch some TV. Leave home at 2:45pm.

3pm - 5pm
Pick up kids from school. Bring them home, make dinner, and serve them at 5pm. Make sure they have a bath and change before coming down for dinner.

5:30pm to 6pm
Clean up kitchen and put kids' clothes to wash.

6pm to 7pm
Get the kids to do their homework. If they don't have any, make them tidy up their rooms and then allow them to watch TV.

7pm to 8pm
Usually take a relaxed bath and then take my dinner upstairs. Then I might go out for a stroll, which I don't do often, since it's dark and cold outside.

8pm to 9pm
Read a book. I LOVE the library here! Have already checked out a dozen books.

9pm
Sleep sweet sleep. I have to, since I am practically comatose by exhaustion!