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.