.. She put a Spell on You!!!!

All through the evening she shimmered and shone, like a glittering diamond in the evening sky, commanding your attention, not letting you look anywhere but in her direction. Like a spear piercing the sky, or like a toothpick (as it is known) in the Dubai skyline, she had you at “Hello”!

The more you stared at her, more you couldn’t help but fall in love with her, be seduced by her charms. She had that ability to cast a spell on you. So all through the evening you had eyes just for her. There could be a million of things happening around but you couldn’t take your eyes off her, she commanded your attention, and you couldn’t help but do as she commanded.

So as the clock slowly creeped towards midnight you joined the other of her paramours who gathered to admire her beauty, patiently waiting for her to put on a show. With baited breath you waited for her, and she kept teasing with her shimmer and shine of her laser light show, which although you couldn’t view,  you knew was taking place.

As the clock struck 12 she lit up the sky, putting on a show making the wait worth it, dazzling with beauty, radiant as ever. Lighting up the the 31st night (or was it the 1st morning, which technically would be right). You couldn’t help but be left spellbound, picking up your jaw from the floor from where it lay. Words seem to have deserted you cause you struggle to find the right one to describe what you see, what you are witnessing, her beauty. She leaves your mesmerised and dumbfounded. You try and take it all in, to capture it not just your device, but in your memory that will continue to remain with you long after the moments has gone.

So once the moment is ended you can’t help but join the other paramours, applauding what you have just witnessed, but secretly hoping if it could go on forever. You are spellbound at what you have just seen, you don’t want to leave the place or forget the moment, but you got to go, carry that moment as a memory that will remain with you forever. You may be sad to leave her but then that’s what you have to do. So in the end its another year in the bag, and you leave with a sweet memory of the evening with the Burj Khalifa.

Cheers to 2019

It’s December the thirty first

Which could only mean

We made it through another year

So yippeee to us

Another year in the bag

Wrapped neatly with a bow

Now to be stored 

With all the other years gone by

But before you go

We got to say 

A big Thank You to you

Cause through the highs and lows

The good and the bad

And the happy and sad

You helped us through it all

You helped us make it through the other side

You helped us grow

Through all the heartaches and heartbreaks

You never let us loose hope

You never lost faith in us

Even when we thought

There was none

You helped us through it all

Through the highs and lows of running

To the soreness and the pain

Through the cramps and setbacks

You helped us get past it all

To be better than yesterday 

To be the best we can be

To taste the sweet taste of victory

Though on the podium we may not be

But you taught us that 

Every victory is to be celebrated

Cause in doing so 

we celebrate us

Through the year we said farewell

To some who didn’t mean us well

But for others we bid a fond farewell 

Sad to see them go

But we will always know 

That they will be with us 

Long after they have gone

And through the year

We formed new bonds

Made new friends

People who we hope will be with us 

People who’s friendship 

We will always be grateful for

People who we will always treasure

And for those who stuck with us

Who helped us through

Untangling our muddled life

To help us see the light 

Through our darkest days

Sticking it out with us

Like birds of a feather

Always together no matter the weather

So here’s to another year gone by

For all the opportunities 

The missed and the taken

For all the memories 

The bitter and  sweet

The lessons we have learned 

And the ones we will keep

So cheers to 2019

You’ve been a good year

No matter what we or they may say

And now as we bid you farewell 

Your memories we shall treasure

Holding fondly within our hearts

Forever grateful in our hearts

And here’s to the New Year 2020

And all the adventures you may hold!!!

Roddie runs a Marathon

Well not exactly my first marathon, but yeah I will be running a marathon in the truest sense of the term. Let’s face it, you can’t call a 5 k a marathon, and neither is a 10k or a 21 k a Marathon. So please don’t call them one, especially to the poor souls who put so much effort to train for the Marathon, it’s more like an insult to them.

Returning to the topic, after deviating from it, I will be running my 6th Full Marathon, hoping to complete my 5th (after DNFing on my 4th, damn that’s confusing). Every year after the Mumbai Marathon you promise yourself never again, and come July/August/whenever registrations open, you find yourself registering for the next edition, and you are all excited to do it. From September once again you are back to pounding the pavements to get those serious mileage under your belt.

So once again you find yourself eating Dylan’s brains, or is it the other way round. At times causing him to just ignore the silly chit chat and arguments that Pankti and you tend to have, and we both can be loud with our talks that we have been shushed by other serious runners, not that we are not serious runners, just that we talk a lot when we run, helps take our minds off the climbs and slopes and rolling hills. We may crib and complain, but we get our training done, thanks to Dylan’s support and madness and each other’s company, and occasionally putting nazar on Dylan’s family pack and his ability to communicate with his brethren in the forest. Thus training in the park is fun, as much as it can be tough. The Cherry on the cake is deer sighting, and if you’re lucky enough (and survive to tell the tale) a leopard/panther sighting.

You run through out the year, irrespective of the weather. So come rain, sunshine, humidity, or cold, running you will do. You even run when it pours, and the park is flooded. People don’t really get why you run, and question your sanity of waking at ungodly hours just to take to the street (which are dark and deserted), to get that mileage under your feet. So while the world may wake at 11 or 12 on a weekend, you’re up at 3:30 and 4, after doing a long run it’s back to your days and household chores, and dance classes you have to attend, making the weekends more hectic than your weekdays.

Often this means no late nights, or get together and picnics, some of which you are glad to miss, and training serves a good excuse. Friends and colleagues may question your intentions and logic for putting yourself through the ringer, and you crib and grumble but pay the registration fees for just one metallic medal. But then what do they know about the Runners’s High, the burst of endorphins, the joy of crossing that finish line, irrespective of timing ABBA position, and then posing for all the photos, if not biting into your medal.

We go through the highs and lows of training, and then face the same thing on race day. Did I mention about the nerves that don’t let you sleep, so there goes the 8 hours of sleep you need before a race. But we go through it all cause we want to see how far we can push ourselves, how far can we go beyond our boundaries, beyond ourselves, trying to discover a new aspect of our abilities. All this makes the torture we put ourselves through quite rewarding, not to forget all the weight you manage to shred, and the excuse you get for carb loading, and carrying your running gear even on vacations. All makes it worth it.

And as you watch Brittany run a marathon, you so empathise with her, you feel her emotional roller coaster, cause you have been through it. So often it’s a thought of a loved one, a memory, people who inspire you with their courage, every time people poked fun at you and called you names, tried to pull you down (at times even succeeding in getting under your skin), misunderstanding you (not bothering to correct themselves) that propels you ahead. You feel her pain, her struggle, but you know her will power and her friends will help her get over that finish line. You know the jubilation that she feels by the mere act of crossing that finish line, cause you felt that too. Your timing and position doesn’t matter (or at least it doesn’t till you learn that of others), for those moments you feel like a winner. So you know how she feels, and you cheer her on, as if you were there with her (and I know I would if I was there).

So come the 19th of January 2020, I will be running my 6th Full Marathon, hoping to complete it strongly, and kick my own butt. To see my friends cheering me as I would others on the way, to just hug them at the finish line, and cry tears of joy, no matter what the outcome may be. So come the 19th and Roddie runs a Marathon (again)!

Trotting Globally through the Village

After days of family visits and house parties, it was time to play the tourist once again. So after attending Sunday mass (which actually felt like Monday, cause Sunday is the monday here... damn this is puzzling), which felt like ages since I attended mass on a Sunday, it was off to being a tourist.

The Global Village combines cultures of 90 countries across the world at one place. It claims to be the world's largest tourism, leisure, shopping and entertainment project. It is the region's first cultural, entertainment, family and shopping destination (source Wikipedia). So in short, became a global trotter without even stepping beyond my current position on the globe, oops I mean location.

You were in a melting pot of different cultures in a single location. Seems like most of Dubai is a melting pot. The amount of crowd at the place kind of surprised me, considering it was a Dubai Monday, even though it was a Sunday. I can swear I must have photobombed a thousand of selfies and photos. If you run a facial recognition i think you’ll find me in thousands of pics.

Walking in Global Village is a literal trip around the world. The different sections allocated to each country was fascinating. Walking past shops, or was it stalls, checking out what they had on sale. Each shop/stall more fascinating than the other, more colourful, more fascinating (damn I am using this adjective so often, feels like I am running out of terms or language is deserting me), representing the areas which they belonged to. 

cream.

 There was stall with all these colourful lamps, it was like the Lord said let there be light and man made these beautiful colourful lamps. You had a stall selling figurines, the flamingoes reminded me of my buddy Anubha and her fascination for the birds. Then you had snow globes, which perked my interest, and another where you could make a wax caste of your hand, how awesome would that be. There were many other stores, each more interesting (or equally interesting, to be fare) than the other. The Turkish ice cream sellers were up to their usual tricks, playing around with their patron’s ice

The whole place had this holiday vibe (of course it would, after all it’s the holidays), there was excitement in the air, like an electric current. People from all walks of life, all age gender, ethnicity, culture, religion, nationality, mingling together in a single location. You had families pushing around babies in prams, gaggles of ladies in burqa having a ladies night out. Everywhere you could see people haggling, enquiring, browsing, doing what a socially conscious people would do, pout and click selfies (oh I meant social media conscious ), people running around with huge stuffed dogs (which I too wanted but too chicken to try, and if I got one where would I keep it?) which they must have won in some game.

On the Main Stage you had performances by acts from various cultures across the globe. When we reached it you had a troupe doing the Bhangra which actually got the crowd all riled up and excited. You had people running to the stage to get a glimpse of the dance. They had their phones out, clicking and recording it, quite to the bemusement of someone who found this normal.

And once again there was lights and fountain show but this time to a James Bond theme. You had the fountain, the lights on the water, and you had a bit of fireworks. How I wish those pesky boats were not in the way blocking the view.

So we ended up walking quite a bit, from the parking lot to the entrance and then round the different countries. We could actually say we became globe trotters, trotting around the globe in a single place. We walked more than we had, or at least I can say that, in the past few days. But you know what, I didn’t mind all the walking, in fact welcomed it, or was good to get the blood flowing through the feet, though was concerned about how mumma would take with all the walking. But hey she managed it in Ladakh, so here it was a piece of cake.

In the end, even though the feet may have been complaining from all the walking, but  the head and heart we’re glad to have done that, cause they could do with all the walking. So now I can say that I trotted globally through the village.

The Parking Conundrum

It’s a bane of every four wheel driver. A universal problem that you can never escape. You can go round and round and never find one. And should you find one, as you approach it and it gets taken.

You got to be on time to find a good spot. If you’re late then all the spots are taken, even the not so good ones. And then when you manage to find one, it’s miles away from your destination. Ok, may not be miles but then it’s definitely not quite close to where you want to be. So you need to make it a point that you are on time, or before time  (if that were an option, cause if you can’t be on time, before time is only just a dream). 

At times it feels like a game of musical chairs. You pass a spot, then you have to go all the way around, follow the different lane discipline before getting to the spot. You can’t back peddle to get to the spot, you have to go round and come back to the spot. And then also there is no guarantee that you will get the spot, or if the spot is already taken by the time you get there.

So you can drive for miles and miles searching for one, go round and round and round and still not find one. So in the end you end up spending more than half your time to find a spot. 

Then also you have the problem finding where exactly you parked. And if you are someone with depleting grey matter, or if age is catching up to you, then the very best to you trying to figure out your spot. And again you can spend the same amount of time trying to figure out where you parked as you would trying to find a parking spot.

The four wheelers have it worst than the us two wheeler, or do we both have it bad as each other. But then the four wheelers obviously have it worst, end of discussion. After all you can’t always have a Sheldon’s Spot.

So no matter where you go, you can’t escape the bane of finding a parking space.

A Lonely Mind

Isn’t it strange

You can be in a room full of people

And still be all lone

All by yourself

As cliched as it may sound

It always hold true

Sitting here on the window sill

Staring out at the streets below

And into the abyss of the night

The street light like little rhinestones 

Studding the velvety road

And the inky blue night sky 

Staring at the night sky

Makes me wish I could fly

To fly out of this place

And go to the place 

Where my heart wants to be

With the one it wants or be with

This heart wants to escape 

To fly away from this place

To be in the place it wants to be

To be with the one it wants to be with

To lay by their side 

To rest my head where their heart is

To be lulled asleep 

By the beating of their heartbeat

But for now I shall be 

Be by myself

To feel all alone in a crowded room

To fret and miss

To hope my heart can be with the one

The one that it beats for

But for now it will live with this loneliness 

A walk in Time... Sightseeing in Dubai

When in Rome, do as the Romans do. When  a tourist do what a tourist would do, touristy things. So did the most touristy thing I could do, visit the Dubai Museum. A literal walk in time, to see Dubai from its evolution, it evolving in time, and its quite fascinating journey. 

So you mingled with the tourist out there admiring the displays, seeing how life used to be back then, in the days of yore, in the ciraca of God knows when. Damn I even spotted a Dalda ghee ka dabba and was quite fascinated by the discovery (more than any other discovery in that museum), and later on I would discover packets of Parle G in Lulu (yep that’s the name of a local chain of supermarkets, you could call it their version of Big Bazar and DMart).

Like all other places in Dubai, this was a literal melting pot of people of all ethnicity, people of all cultures, but in it all you could make out us Indian, we have our way of standing out in the crowd, especially a sea of South East Asian people, who can drown out a crowd, giving competition even to the loudest Gujju. And then you had the Marathi Manoos, who you could make out from the pude ya, saral ubhi raha, which in a way so reassuring, hearing something familiar so far way from home.

Later on, walking down the streets and the narrow bylanes  of Al Fahidi, felt like taking a walk back time. It felt like walking down streets that time didn’t touch. The structures and architecture that modernisation hadn’t yet gotten hold of. So you were walking on streets steeped in history. Each turn more fascinating, each structure a story to tell. Ok maybe not quite the story, but they sure were fascinating. 

You had a creek separating the old from the new, a kind of line of control that protected the old from the new, not letting each overlap but letting them coexist in harmony. Fascinating that you have two aspects of time coexisting together. 

So in the end it was a day well spent, a bit of a history lesson, a bit of sightseeing, a time well spent reconnecting with family, a  walk in time.

Love at First Sight

Our eyes locked the moment I stepped into the house. I looked into his beautiful soulful eyes as he came sauntering towards me, his beautiful mane flowing in the air, his slender athletic figure on full display. Was it possible to fall in love with this gorgeous creature at the first sight? But then was it first sight? After all I had seen pictures of him before. So would this be first sight. Well you could call it that, and if you don’t think so then that’s your perception. For all practical purpose, for me it’s first sight.

So now that we have got that out of the way, let’s get back to the moment. So it was love at first sight, and I somehow found myself falling into the abyss of his deep soulful eyes, the ones I could stare into for hours on end. This beautiful creature with those soulful eyes. And as he made his way towards me I could feel my heart beating against my chest, skipping a couple of beats. I felt like a school child coming face to face with their crush. 

When he finally made his way to me, after greeting the rest of the family, I came down to him, hugged him and scratched behind his ears. He seemed happy to see me, but then he was happy creature who was more than happy to have visitors, unlike others. He loved the attention that I showered upon him, not wanting to share it, wanting to be centre of it all. So when I began paying attention to his sibling he nuzzled his head, so I had to scratch and fuss over him only.

Throughout the evening he enjoyed alternating from playing fetch with the kids and snuggling between us, clicking pictures, getting his belly rubbed. Giving paw when asked to, placing his head on our laps, giving us the soulful looks with his deep puppy eyes, hoping to get something from the sumptuous and mouthwatering spread prepared for the evening.

He enjoyed all the attention he was getting. Posing for pictures and being fed, along with his siblings, having the time of his life. And in between it all he was showering his puppy love, slobbery kisses, putting his paw in my hand and his face on my lap, how couldn’t you not fall in love with him, how could you not resist his charm. He had me at hello!

So in the end when it was time to call it a night, he walked us to the door, and with the big soulful eyes bathe us goodbye, giving us a big look before he ran back to join his siblings, turning around as if to say see you soon. It was indeed love at first sight.

BYOC

I have heard of BYOB, or bring your own bottle to office (and not the bottle you’re thinking about, I know it’s Christmas and that’s the only bottle that comes to mind immediately), last night learned a new concept, BYOC, or bring your own chair, or mats, to church. It may seem novel, or even borderline humorous, but considering the crowd, I can understand why people would get their own chairs (folding ones, obviously) and mats to church.

To say that the Church was packed to the rafter would have been an understatement, cause not only was the Church full (actually didn’t even get in there), the grounds around it was full with people of all ethnicities, a melting pot, but mostly Indians. However, I didn’t see chairs on the ground. Since I’ve been attending mass in Orlem, I know what crowds can be like, but then this was next level crowded.

So you had people in their finery sitting on the grass (or should I call it turf, cause it didn’t feel very grassy), on chairs (which I guess they had brought, BYOC) and upon mats. It may have felt strange, but then considering the situation it seemed pretty practical. But one thing I would commend the ushers and the volunteers coordinating the crowds really very well.

Outside you had vendors selling Christmas Plum cakes, and there were so many of them selling cakes, mostly plum ones, in their peculiar way, it seemed quite funny. There weren’t people selling any traditional sweets like navarees and kal kals or even marzipan, just Christmas Plum Cakes.

Finally went to this place called Denny’s (which I learned had been featured on my favourite show Friends quite a bit, which I was not aware of) for breakfast post mass. Kind of reminded me of the trips we had to Mondegear post the midnight mass in Byculla. So had a huge sumptuous American style breakfast at 3 am. And after that it was back home.

Since Christmas ain’t an official holiday, but just a normal working day, so for those who didn’t take a holiday, it’s back to work. So Christmas ends up being very quiet, unlike the Christmas of old, the ones you have in Mumbai. So you end you end up having a quiet, blue Christmas. 

Lost in the Mall... and other Adventures!!!

Have you been lost before??? I know I have as a kid, gotten lost in the crowds of shoppers at Crawford Market, wandering off when toys got this kiddo’s attention, getting a scolding for wandering off on my own, while this boy was in tears. And I did it again last evening, oops I did it again!!! A 40 year old goes wandering off in the mall, leaving the herd, to get a pic of a crystal Christmas tree, having no means to communicate with his pack, nothing quite has changed, or maybe the age and times may have changed but this boy is always the kiddo. So I can cross that off my list, getting lost in a mall on foreign shores, as if getting lost was something I wanted to do.

The Dubai Mall can be quite the crowded and fascinating place. The window displays all decked up for the holidays, sort of drawing you in. You just can’t help but check it out, be all fascinated, like a kid in a candy store, or maybe it’s just all the sweets that have been hogging (after all this boy needs to put on a bit of some holiday weight, only to get rid off it when he’s back). So you can’t help but admire the window displays and the candies (and there they are again).

And so I finally get to meet the great Burj Khalifa in all its glittering glory. A very touristy thing to do. It commands your attention so much that your eyes are planted on it while the buildings next to it feel pale in front of all the glittering of the Burj, even though they are all lit up.

So we stood there and clicked pics with this tallest structure in the world, (something similar I remembered doing when visiting the Petronas Towers in Malaysia ). waiting for the light and fountain show to begin. Boy was the wait worth it, it’s something that you need to be there to experience it, cause words wouldn’t be able measure up to the experience (or maybe I am being a bit too dramatic for my own taste). Got a bit chocked up, teary eyed and emotional witnessing it, or may be it was just because the show was done to  Lady Gaga’s I could never love again, from A Star is Born. I was not prepared for this!

Wish I could share this moment cause it was beautiful, and song only added to it. I hope I can share it soon. Was so transfixed by the fountains that didn’t much notice the light show on the Burj. At the end it was indeed a very touristy thing to do.

Next was a visit to the Dubai Aquarium and Underwater Zoo, and an up close encounter with great white with only a glass separating us apart (as if I would want to swim on the other side), staring into its cold glassy eyes. It sure was a sight to see the sting rays go by overhead, like birds soaring in the sky. And then there was one had you transfixed, like you were staring at very strange face. It was as if you were having a staring competition with a it, you just couldn’t take your eyes away, which in a way scared the bejesus in me, like it had cast a spell on me!!! 

I think it had something to do with the glass cause it felt like you were immersed with the fish, you had this feeling like you were swimming with the fishes, though not literally. So rode a glass bottom boat, getting a view of the aquarium from the top, petted a baby shark, seen jelly fish at very stages of their lives (fascinating creatures they are), saw otters, alligators, crocodiles, and various other critters.

Had a late dinner while staring at kids skating in the ice rink below, so wanting to join them, though not sure I could skate like them, or even skate at all. But then my body clock was past 12 IST and not yet accustomed to Dubai time, so was literally dozing off, as if I needed a reason for it.

So in the end had to put this together a day later, though the words for it was coming to my head. But coming home meant crash landing on the couch, though not before checking messages cause you are finally in a wifi zone. 

In the end the trip has been off to a good start. A bit of adventure, and a whole of fascinating things to do and see. Can’t wait to see what else is in store for this boy on this trip. Awaiting the experience and adventure that is in store. So let’s take it one day at a time.

A Trip... 40 years in the making

 It’s strange how you wait all your life to make it to a place and when you get there it feels, like, ok, very meh. I remember all through my growing years, wanting to come out here and live here, just like my cousins. Used to see the life they had and wanted the same life for myself and my family, ok I was a little selfish kiddo, wanted for myself. But as I grew older (and now I am old) the sheen for the place sort of just slowly faded away, to the extent that I began to feel like yeah, i know I am in Dubai.

I know my mum is all excited about the trip, way more excited than I am, after all she gets to go on her third trip abroad, third trip to Dubai, but most importantly she gets to spend it with all her children. So I guess that without a doubt makes her one happy mumma.

Well not that I am acting sullen about the place, ccbehaving like a grinch. Though my perception of it is that it’s a very artificial, very man made place. But then that’s what I have learned from reading about the place. I need to take it in and then maybe change the way I feel about the place.

Already been gobsmacked by the train ride from the Arrivals gate to immigration, passing through the terminals, past the planes and to immigration and baggage  claims. It was one hell of a ride. And after immigration and baggage claims (and a quick trip to Duty Free), it was great to see my sisters, thus completing the family.

The view from my sister’s apartment sure is spectacular, makes you want to go out and explore. And hey that’s just the start of the holidays, makes you curious of what it has in store for you, what does Dubai have in store for you. So yes in away excited to explore the city and see what Dubai has in store. But in the end, the heart is still in Mumbai.

Educate Yourself... before you take a stand

We are living in a very strange time. Suddenly we find ourselves divided on lines of our religion, by the ones who created and fueled by the ones who ones who want to make the most of it. So we end up being pawns in a political game of throne (if I can dare call it that) of one trying to pull down the other. But at what cost? At the cost of us, at a cost of creating a fission, a wedge, a deep cut,  all for their vote bank politics.

It’s easy to dismiss all the protests and oppositions, as frivolous and opportunistic and immature, anti-nationalists. But before we label them, or pass judgement about them, understand the reason for these protests before drawing a conclusion. We all have a right to voice our opinion, to say what need to say, to be heard. So when you do speak up make sure the conclusion that you make is an informed one. Understand the crux of the matter before you decide to pick your side, you have every right to do that. Don’t be influenced by the opinions of other, what others have to say. Be open to hearing them out but in the end the decision is yours to take, and no one can take that way. 

But then there are other questions to be asked, not just that of the citizenship. There’s the economy too that’s needs to be revived and promises relating to it that need to be kept. Questions about things that have immediate effect on us. We have every right to question those elected to power (though the events of the past month has made a mockery of the democratic exercise), to hold them accountable of the happenings in the country and its economy. Don’t let distractions sway you. Questioning is your right and that doesn’t make you anti-national.

So in the end before you pick your side, educate yourself before you take stand. You can be for or you can be against, that doesn’t change who you are or make you more or less patriotic. Try not to be swayed by the political games, the one up-man-ship. It’s easy to label and name call, whatever opinions you may form base it on rather than on rumours, whatsapp messages and all things baseless. Educate yourself before you take a stand.

I’ll be home for Christmas...

As he stood there, in front of the mirror, adjusting his shirt, staring at the man who stood in front of him, he felt this chill run down his spine, a feeling of nervousness, a feeling of dread. It was the Holidays, and Christmas meant spending time with the family, and exchanging presents, attending mass, and Christmas lunch with the entire family. He had done this all his life, he looked forward to these traditions, but this year he was hesitant and very nervous about this tradition.

In the past year he had come out to his family. He was scared to tell them his truth but then he had to, he couldn’t be something he was not, he had to be open to them, they were his family, he needed to be true to them. When he finally did, he prepared for the worst, for the drama, for the hysteria, somehow that didn’t quite happen. His siblings, who constantly ribbed and bullied him, picking on him at every chance they could get, accepted him unconditionally, were happy that he finally found his voice to tell them something they had guessed, they had known all this while. They wanted him to realise that and say that.

His parents were a different thing all together. His mother didn’t know how to react to his revelation, she was worried what she would tell her church group, their relatives and friends. But in the end she was a mother, and though this was not what she expected, not what she envisioned for her son, she accepted him. His father, a strict disciplinarian, always expecting his children to behave in a way they should, on their best behaviour, never shying from reprimanding when they dropped the ball. When he came out to him, he didn’t react, didn’t show any anger or resentment, let alone acceptance. He was most scared to face him.

This would be the first time he would be facing them since he revealed his secret to them, since he came out to them, and he was nervous to face them, especially his father. For the first time in his life he didn’t t want to be part of this tradition. To make things a little complex, he was getting his boyfriend along, the love of his life. Now he was all the more nervous about his predicament.

As he struggled to tie his tie, he came from behind, and helped him fix it and straightened his shirt. Kissing him, he told him how handsome he looked. He could sense his nervousness, he could feel it, he could see it. He asked to him to take a deep breath and relax, he had his back, and if things went south they could always leave. He hugged him tight and once again kissed him. They put on their coats and  picked the gifts and left.

Across town she sat there wrapping her presen, neatly tying the bow. Once done, she returned back to applying her eyeshadow. She paused and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. So much had changed over the past year, she had changed so much. She finally found herself, she finally found her place in this world. She  couldn’t be something that she was not. What she was not was male. 

She was born male but always associated as female, something she fought all her life. She was bullied, physically and mentally abused, made fun of, called names, ostracised for who she chose to be. In the beginning she did try to live according to the norms of society, who her family wanted her to be. But she couldn’t keep up with the farce. She was a woman trapped in a man’s body, and if she didn’t  do anything about it, to set the woman free, it would consume her, it would be the end of her.

She finally found the courage to do something about it. She couldn’t go about living a lie. So she finally decided to transition to who she truly identified as. But then there was a price to be paid. In doing so she lost her family, who were angry with her decision, believing that she had brought shame one her family, she would bring the wrath of the almighty on them for the so called sin she had committed. 

As she continued to stare at her reflection in the mirror, reflecting on the year gone by, a tear drop appeared in the corner eye. She dabbed it off carefully not wanting to ruin it all. It was Christmas and she missed her family a lot, after all Christmas was the time with family and loved one, and somehow she found herself alone. She would do anything to just to be with her family on Christmas, except not changing whom she had become. Fixing her make up, she straightened her dress and collected the gift she was wrapping. She got into her car and set off. 

As they drove to their respective destinations, they couldn’t help but have this nervous fear deep within them. Scared at what lay ahead of them, at that moment, in life to come. To ease the tension, they turned on the radio, and a familiar carol played on the station they had tuned in on. They couldn’t help but sing along with it...

“I'll be home for Christmas

You can plan on me

Please have snow and mistletoe

And presents under the tree”

He came to stop in front of a familiar gate, the one that he had opened a million times, the one he ran through. He felt a moment of hesitation, a moment of doubt, not wanting to get out of the confines of the safety of his car, where he felt safe. He didn’t  want to step into the unknown. But his love reassured him, took him by the hand and led him to the front door. He took a deep breath as he rang the bell, expecting the worst. As luck would have it his father opened the door. For a moment they just stood there, trying to gauge the other’s reaction. And then his father smiled, something he had longed to see but didn’t believe he would ever see it. 

His father grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him into a warm embrace, kissing him on his cheek. His mother couldn’t contain her emotions and was already in tears, as he found himself sobbing like a baby, tears of happiness. When they finally let go, he introduced his boyfriend to them. They welcomed him with open arms, as if they had known for ages. And then his siblings did what they had always done, playfully picked on him, teasing him in front of his love. This was the best Christmas, the best present he could ever hope for, cause he was his authentic self with the people who mattered to him, who he cared for, who he loved, during the festive season. He could ask for nothing more from life, This was his perfect Christmas.

Across town she finally reached her destination. This was it, she thought to herself, to be true to herself, to who she was. She was scared, nervous, but it was now or never, no turning back. For the first time in her life she could be her true authentic self, not living behind a farce, a mask, a lie. She had chosen this and now she needed to be prepared to stand her ground, stand by her decision. There had been others who walked down this path before, and now it was her turn to do the same. And if they could do it then so could she.

These thoughts brought her courage, spurred her on. As she knocked on the door, she hummed to herself, “I’ll be home for Christmas...”. And as she hummed the door opened. She was greeted by the Pride Flag, and a family she had chosen to be a part of. She was welcomed warmly and with open arms by the family she chose to be with. Concluding the carol she was humming...

I’ll be home for Christmas...

If only in my dreams!

The Christmas Bazaar Experience

In all my 40 years of existence (yes that’s how young I am, as if you don’t know it by now), I’ve never once been to a Christmas Bazaar (or have I, memory fails me, call it the side effects of growing old). But all that changed over the past couple of days, I am no longer a Christmas Bazaar virgin (am I entitled or permitted to use those terms). And boy what an experience I had, but from the other side. 

I’ll admit, I am not too comfortable being around a lot of pavwala, despite the fact that I myself am one (again, as if you didn’t already know that). Sometimes it gets difficult to deal with their bitchy, judgemental, gossipy and narrow-minded ways. Well not all of them are that way, you’ll always have an exception to the rule, and in this case there are quite a few.

So when my friends at Soul Sugar and White Peacock Craft decided to put up a stall at the bazaar, I jumped at the opportunity to help them out, to offer them my services, cause that’s what friends are for (cue Stevie Wonder on the harmonica), cause I’ll be there for you (clap, clap, clap). So right from setting up the table, to putting up the displays, to understanding the prices and the different  articles being sold, it was all new, and a tad bit overwhelming (cause this old soul takes time to remember things). Was a bit worried if I wouldn’t remember all the prices and the items, and about flubbing names, kept saying upskilling instead of upcycled. But standing there watching my friends interact with those who stopped by, learned a lot from them. Slowly and steadily tried to build the confidence to do the same.

It was site to see all the other vendors busily going about, setting up their stalls before the bazaar was officially opened. You marvelled at all the items they had to sell, the variety of things available, mostly Christmassy and a few not so Christmassy. You had Christmas ornaments and baubles and statues and decorations, all variety of food (mostly non-veg) that caused an involuntary drooling and rumbling of the stomach.

Once the bazaar was officially opened you had these typical catholic aunties make their way through the various stalls, giving a cursory glance at our stall, no smile and then move on to the next table to the uncle who was selling traditional Christmas sweets. Guess non-traditional delicacy and handcrafted Christmas gift items weren’t their thing.

As the the evening moved on there was this crackle in the air. The entire place started to have a wonderful festive vibe. There was carols being played, people with Santa hats moving around from one stall to another, all merry and jolly, greeting each other, walking around with their drink in hand, children of every age, running with their goodies and bubbles, worrying their parents to get them goodies, who busy at the stalls purchasing their very own goodies and clothes. The entire place was filled with a Christmassy cheery, and you didn’t have to be a catholic, or Christian, or a Bandraite to get all caught up in this Christmassy feeling that wrapped itself around you like a nice warm hug (and it helped that there was a chill in the air). 

There was a Santa walking around, shaking hands and clicking  and you even had an East Indian choir, singing carols in Marathi , the first time I actually heard them. Ladies dressed  in lugdas and men in traditional dresses (actually didn’t know what they are called). 

We had quite a bit of people stopping by our stall, admiring what we had on displayed, complimenting us for the articles on display. curious to know what we had for them. What drew them were p the hand painted plates and mugs and not to forget the beautiful cake tower, made from cake pops, a play on the Croquembouche. I had this smile plastered on my face (so now I knew how newly weds felt at their reception, something I am not going to experience). But as the night wore on, didn’t feel the need to put it on as it turned genuine. 

Had a wonderful time interacting with the members who stopped by at our stall enquiring what we had on display and the prices. Taking a cue from my buddies I tried to do the best I could. But then when you enjoy what you are doing everything tends to flow. And moreover I was doing what I loved doing, what i do at MRR, interact with people, and I had good teachers too. So I really enjoyed what I was doing, even at the end of the day my feet ached, as I stood there he insisted I so down. I couldn’t help but be a bit cheery and silly, jolly soul, who couldn’t keep still, or quiet, dancing to the music being played/ sung, giving impromptu cha richa lessons. Had this storm urge to dance right in the midst of the crowd.

Day 2 had a very similar vibe, a very festive, jolly atmosphere. Not sure if there were more l Day 1. But then the spirit was almost as high as the first day. People enjoying their food and drinks while the danced, or just check mout the various stalls, making their purchases.

Though we started slowly, we did manage to have some brisk sales. I was worried about how I would make it through the evening, cause I had run 25kms, completed house chores and barely slept. But somehow made it through, cause the atmosphere carried me, and enjoying and loving what I was doing (something that I had forgotten how it felt, thanks to a certain that will not be named). So we had people stopping by enquiring if they could get the items customised, items that cneedn’t be Christmassy, kids stopping by with their friends to buy the delicious food goodies after checking the cash they had, going ahead, only to return with even more of their friends.

Everything and everyone felt so holly, jolly, and you couldn’t help feel the same with them. And their spirit spurred you on, and more importantly you remembered the reason why you were doing this all, and if you loved what you did, there was nothing like it. Grateful that I was part of the team, though I hope I was able to contribute.

At the end of the day this was an experience, a good and wonderful experience. One that you’ll cherish cause for a change you enjoyed what you’re doing. So when it was a time to wrap, felt a tinge of sadness that this experience had come to end, but then all good things don’t last forever, all things come to an end, so did this bazaar experience too had to come to an end. Damn I am already missing it, having withdrawal symptoms, if that’s even possible. One thing I was happy for was the opportunity and experience. Moreover it was important moments spent with people who you care for, a lot. So In the end you are grateful for the very Christmassy Bazaar experience.

P.S. Dearest Dylan thank you so much for your help in getting the table. Always grateful for your help and all you did for us.