It's been a while

Hello again everyone.

It's been more than a month since I last blogged. Lots of excuses comes to mind-work, home, friends, family, life in general.

But since this is my honest space, I am suddenly overcome with a bout of honesty. I just didn't feel like writing. Opining. Emoting. Anything.

Not coz I was unhappy or troubled or anything...I just didn't want to.

Like the flu, I think it has now passed.

For those of you who missed me *hug* you are too kind.

For those of you who thought I was a super lazy blogger *grin* you ain't seen nothing yet.

Lots of bits and pieces happened, one of the biggest 'bits' was that dude and I celebrated our first anniversary. I'm still smiling at our weekend get-away, the flower delivery at work, the gifts, the hearts all over the walls at home, the confetti on the floor. It was lovely!

We play Xbox games together. Even cricket in the house. We love to watch NCIS.

'Nights in' almost always win over 'nights out'.

And no, it's not coz we're getting old and boring as a lot of people may think.

It's just nice to married to a friend. Someone you can be you with.

I'm lucky like that. :)

Here's lookin' at you Michael.

A young Michael by artist CarinaT.

(www.carinatdeviantart.com)

The world has watched it all.

Watched The Jackson 5 - the young brothers, set to make it big in the music world.

Watched a young hopeful become a rock star - slowly and surely, he climbed that famed stairway to success.

Watched a bright eyed boy become a troubled young man. So much drama, so much eccentricity, so much to hide away from prying eyes.

Watched some amazing music happen. Thriller, Billie Jean, Bad, Beat It, Human Nature, They don't really care about us, Man in the mirror, Out of my life, Don't stop till you get enough - such an endless list.

Watched the moonwalk. March 25th, 1983. He performed live on a television special, Motown 25: Yesterday, today, Forever.

He invented it. We've all tried it sometime, haven't we? *grin*

Watched musical history in the making. Yes, we have. Put aside all the bad things you know about him and think for a minute. WE HAVE.

Watched some amazing collaborations. Guitar sets by Eddie Van Halen on 'Beat It' and Slash on 'Black or White'. Co-writing 'We are the world' with Lionel Ritchie, his duet with Sir Paul McCartney, 'The girl is mine'.

Watched a star crash and burn.

And finally, watched a memorial for a man who was a 'larger than life' talent, an amazing singer-songwriter, an artist who's music will live on for a long, long time.

There are some people who think that all this hype and media frenzy is undeserved. I've seen countless blogs, comments, letters to editors, newspaper articles - all claiming the same.

But my truth is this. It is usually, only in death that we remember the good about a person. This is true in everyday life. Why should this single mans death be any different?

We say we shouldn't speak ill of the dead...yet we do.

Yes, there were many allegations. But we all have skeletons in the closet.

Maybe there was child abuse. And that sucks. It's disgusting and horrible and sick and hurtful and deserves to be punished. I agree to all that. Some of you may think he deserved to die this way, for the life he lived. Perhaps.

People want to know why so much love now, in death? Why not when he was alive? Why so much adulation for a possible pedophile? Well, why weren't these people protesting every single day, since 1993, when those first child abuse accusations hit the stands?

It's the same concept of reaction...we're all just different people.

I'm not defending his life, or his doings. But I am voicing my opinion, like the rest of the world. My generation lost an icon we grew up grooving too. We always liked him, always listened to his songs, always loved his music. And we're only voicing it now, coz well, that's the way life is.

You rarely sing peoples praises when you realise they'll be around tomorrow, you can always join that Facebook fan page later, put in 10 different entries to win those tickets to a London concert when it's a bit more convenient. But when he dies....You remember. And you are grateful.

I think people need to calm down a bit and let the man rest in peace.

To be 'that' talented...is a gift. No matter how you look at it.

These were my two favorite parts of the Michael Jackson memorial.

No, I didn't watch the whole thing with candles all around me. I didn't have a tissue box by my side and I didn't recite a rosary for his soul.

But I did get teary eyed for all the memories his music brought back to me.

Queen Latifah read out a poem written by Maya Angelou, for Michael Jackson.

She's an amazing writer.

http://www.ibtimes.com/articles/20090707/maya-angelous-poem-about-michael-jackson-we-had-him.htm

And this...do give it a listen - perhaps you'll like it as much as I always have.

And for those few moments...remember the good times.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZvrtuAmHHnI&feature=related

Note: My second post in a row, on a Michael. Who'd have thunk it.

Minguel s.o. Pascual

On the 6th of July, seventeen years ago, a darling little boy came into my life.

His name is Minguel.

I was speechless when his parents asked me to be his godmother. I was all of eleven years old and technically, not the right age for the job. But my uncle and aunt were set - they wanted Minguel's godparents to be closer to him in age, thereby understanding him better and being his friends first.

When we went to see the newest budle of joy gifted to our family, my uncle took me out into the hospital corridor and said he wanted to ask me something. My mum and dad were there, grinning from ear to ear - they already knew. I think back now, to all those years ago - I didn't really understand the importance and preciousness of the moment. I hugged my uncle and said yes and then went back to my aunts room and hugged the new mommy. Now, my heart grows heavy with pride as I remember those moments.

Minguel was christened soon after and I remember writing a poem for him then, my little godchild. He ruled my world and life revolved around him eating, drinking milk, burping, peeing, farting - babies, I tell you!

He was 2 before I knew it. I watched him eat shawarmas, sing little songs, pronounce my name 'mondala' - I still don't get that, but I loved it! His folks let his hair grow just a bit and he had the cutest little pony tail!

One of my favorite memories of him is when Dad and I got back home one evening and we saw Minguel and his Dad in the distance, getting back from the supermarket (we lived in the same building). It was dark, so at first he wasn't sure who we were. Then he heard my voice and te realisation that struck!! My little munchkin came running towards me, in that adorable way that only little kids do and he leapt into my open arms, as if I had just gifted him all the candy in the world.

Let's just say that if I wrote about my memories of the little Minguel, it would be full of exclamations and smileys!! He's a special lil' guy who holds, no...owns, a special part of my heart.

His family have since then migrated to a new country. Minguel has grown up there, but when I speak to him on the phone, he is still the same boy with a heart of gold. He's ridiculously tall and wears glasses. He loves football and a ton of other sports. He's a good student and a good son. And no matter how old he gets, he'll always be my godchild.

He'll always be my little pony tailed angel, named for a grandfather I never met, but belonging to a boy I'll always love.

Happy 17th Birthday, my little one.

The Book Tag

I got tagged recently by pranksygang from www.pranksygang.blogspot.com. Thank you P!

It works like this. I name 15 books in 15 minutes and since I can name them in 15 minutes, they're clearly all books that I loved so much that I can remember them that clearly or hated so much that I wouldn't recommend them to a soul. If I'm being really honest, I don't have any 15 books in mind - I think I can safely manage 5 though. And I don't really remember the books I hated - so I guess I'm good :)

Here's my 5 - let me know if we share something in common!

1. The entire Harry Potter series. - J.K. Rowling

I simply don't care what anyone has to say, I loved them ALL.

I don't believe them to be childrens books at all. The world of magic, friendship, drama and mystery that Rowling weaves, spanning 7 years in the life of Harry Potter, the boy who lived. Her writing has had me hooked from my second year at college, when Chili gifted me the first book on my birthday. (Thank you Chili :) ) She's one awesome author and if you've got an active imagination, you'll see why I treasure the books so much more than the movie. Rowling rocks at the top of my list.

2. The Bible. - Good question.

As a kid, I grew up listening to Bible stories and I had my favorites. The birth of the Christ child, Joseph and his brothers, Moses floating in the wicker basket and being found by the queen, the miracle of the loaves and the fish, the baptism in the Jordan...there are tons. Mom used to read me some at bedtime, then I got older and read them on my own, my Childrens Bible was a prized possession. As I grew older, I graduated to the 'big people's' Bible, but truly, the childrens edition remained my favorite. It's simplicity got the message across and taught me more as a child than it did as an adult. I learnt that God was my friend. Enough said.

3. The Waitress - Melissa Nathan

Of course I have a girly book up there!! As girly as it gets, but a great read. The story of a girl who works as a waitress and then follows a dream to own her own restaurant. Peppered with her own issues with men, family and friends, a great bit of chicklit.

4. Burnt Toast - Teri Hatcher

I'm not sure what I can say about this book, except that I thoroughly enjoyed it. It takes you through the actress life just before Desperate Housewives - the ups and the downs. It's not full of trials and tribulations, but a lot of simple, real, easy to understand stuff. Little things that made me re-read paragraphs and want to jot lines down on post-it notes.

5. Five run away together - Enid Blyton

My favorite book of the series. It's the one where the Famous Five - Julian, George(ina), Dick, Anne and Tim run away to Kirrin Island and live in a cave. They pack supplies in the dead of night, from a stove, to tinned fruits, to sleeping bags. It appealed to the young adventurer in me and it's a book I very fondly, still have on my bookshelf.

Thanks Pranksy - I did enjoy that trip through the corridors of my mind!

Teekhi Mirchi or The Spicy Chili

I've been blessed with many good friends over the years.

One of the most recent is someone I knew in college - we were friends then. Not the 'let's dress like alike and giggle in a corner' type, we were your normal, everyday friends. Then college ended and we didn't really keep in touch.

About 3 years ago, we got to talking again. And this time, (thankfully) we didn't stop. We clicked somehow, more than we did in college and it was nice to be able to slip into that old 'comfort zone' again.

In these 3 years, she's become one of my closest friends. I'll call her Chili, shall I?

I could tell you volumes about Chili. Our lives connect on so many levels now or we choose and will them to connect. But I shall introduce you to her slowly. She's a gem.

Chili and I talk. We talk about everything. We talk like it's going out of fashion. We talk about clothes and films and life and people and photography and dreams and food and and and and. It's great to be able to have that with someone - the ability to talk about anything, anywhere and never get bored. We've sat through some seriously crappy movies, but we've had fun because we giggled through even the bad bits. Talking to Chili is one of my favorite things to do.

My Chili's getting married soon. She's super cute as the soon to be bride. Trying to keep it all together, but fretting so much at the same time. Dude and I recently attended a ceremony held by her family - one in which the community welcomes the soon to be married couple, with much joy, dancing and lots of flashy jewellery. It was nice to see her and her soon to be habibi (beloved in arabic). I watched her smile and hug and pose for pictures. And my heart smiled. Dude knew what I was thinking and he squeezed me hand saying, 'They look good, don't they?'

They did. They do. They will.

Congratulations Chili. Love you.

Just a swimming class

Recently dude and i did a little babysitting for Dora & Boots.

We spent all of 5 full days with them. We did a lot fun stuff together and it was great. Scrapbooking, watching cartoons, going to the park, bedtime stories.

We also did the 'real' stuff, like homework and meals and going to bed on time and a dozen classes that the girls attend, from swimming to ballet to tennis to kathak (it's an Indian dance form, you can read more about it here - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kathak).

When we took Dora to her swimming class, we sat and waited by the pool till she was done. Boots stayed with us and kept herself amused with wooden benches, my handbag and the water cooler. She's got some imagination, that one!

Dora's swimming class takes place in a huge pool, divided into 3 parts. The first, for Dora's age group, is children learning to swim and getting the right training to be confident swimmers. The second, for slightly older children, is I suppose, a more intensive training class.

The third was for babies. Literally. They were in diapers and each baby had a parent with them in the water as well. it was all about getting the child comfortable with water and getting over the fear of suddenly being dunked. (SO been there!)

It was amazing to watch. The class progressed with the parents singing 'row, row, row your boat' and the kids being swished about in the water. The giggling and gurgling and occassional wailing, was fun to watch.

Dora's turning out to be a wonderful little swimmer. I was proud as I watched her, a cute lil bundle of blue, with bright pink goggles and a swimming cap (is that what you call it? It's super tight to be a cap, it's like it latched onto her brain!). She'd suddenly pop her head out of the water and look for us and wave excitedly, a huge grin on her face.

The experience at the pool, watching Dora, keeping an eye on Boots, watching all those parents and kids...made me think.

Parenthood is a big, no scratch that, HUGE deal. It's not just about taking care of them as babies and feeding them, burping them and all that other stuff. They grow! You still have to keep them entertained and then, shiny, jingly jangly baubles, won't help. There's education and friends and good influences and bad influences and a gamut of things I hadn't really thought of before.

No, it's not my biological clock ticking, for those heavy thinkers amongst you - thank you very much.

It's just that at that moment, at the pool...I was suddenly in awe of parents everywhere. For the efforts they make, the dreams they dream, the sleepless nights, the constant love, support and backing even when they might just want to whack you silly. I mean, it was a swimming class for heavens sake.

Parents sacrified their Saturday morning to come and swim with their kids, in the desert sun (only the seating was shaded) and they had brought healthy snacks, creams, hair ribbons, all to make the experience more enjoyable for their kids. It was just, a swimming class.

We had a blast with the girls.

I have to be honest, I don't envy parents. I was a bit unnerved at all the little add-ons that parenting seems to entail.

But I do think it's awesome to be able to see our Dora & Boots finding their element in this world.

The future holds a buttload of talent.

The wheels of the bus

I've always been a bit apprehensive about public transport.

Now don't jump the gun and think I'm being hoity toity, with my nose in the air or I think scandalous things happen on the subway or even that you get robbed on trains.

That's not what I'm saying.

For some reason, travelling alone on buses in particular, has always freaked me out. Especially the ones which have seats facing each other, you know, 2 on either side? Yeah, those. I remember as a kid, some weird lady in the train kept staring at my face as I sat as close to mum as possible. I ventured a smile, but no such luck. She kept glaring at me out of the roundest eyes I had ever seen. I think I even started to cry! Now when I think about it, perhaps she had really bad eyesight or something. NOW, I can make all the excuses for her, but back then when I needed it, I probably thought she'd jump out from under my bed in the dead of night!

Anyway, I think that may be some sort of deep rooted reason for my dislike of buses.

Today, after much thought and discussion (yes, sometimes public transport warrants that for me, thank you very much!), I mustered up the guts to take the bus home. It's about, say, a 45 minute drive. A colleague who stays in my area, stayed back so that she could travel with me, help me learn the ropes, so to speak.

The whole thing was a mini adventure fo me.

We walked to the bus stop, constantly turning back in search of and then craning our necks forward to the traffic ahead, to make sure we hadn't missed it or weren't going to miss it.

Once we saw it approaching, Lux (my colleague) hastened me to a particular spot on the pavement, which she informed me was the exact place in front of which the bus would stop so that the door would be right in front of us. (I made a mental note to carry chalk next time to mark out these all important spots.)

The bus stopped, exactly where Lux said it would and we were the first two in. There was this gadget on the side of the door which Lux slid her bus pass into and charged it. It beeped, rather loudly. I looked quizically at the driver, safe behind his glass door, asking for a buss pass. In the time that it took for me to ask, him to hear me take the money through a tiny hole in the glass and then to actually give me the bus pass (hidden away in some secret location behind aforementioned glass door) at least 9 people charged their cards at the beeping gadget and rushed past me.

I finally got my pass and found Lux who had saved me a seat, bless her. We were in the seats that were opposing the direction of movement and it kinda messed with my head for a few minutes, but as the knowledgeable one on my left said, I got used to it. I marvelled at the bus, my journey, the view, even my handrest for a good 10 minutes! Lux and I spent the rest of the journey getting to know each other. We got home in no time and got off at the same stop. Just before we could get off, Lux reminded me that I needed to get my change back from the driver.

Sheer genius, I tell you. *grin*

After we got off, we walked together for a while before going our seperate paths home.

I quite enjoyed my trip home today and look forward to more. I look forward to reading on the bus, listening to my ipod, collecting my thoughts, perhaps sketching even. (oh, you can't eat on the bus, who would have thought?! The other day, a mum was feeding her son a bag of crisps. The driver played a message on the sound system stating that eating while on the bus was a no-no! Imagine that. Lux told me. I'm convinced she's the all-knowing bus Goddess)

So I'm over my apprehesion. Thanks to situation, circumstance and an unexpected friend.