Going Loco in Karachi

For once, everything went smoothly, too smoothly by my way of reckoning. I was knocked off by the punctuality, impeccable business class-service, no lost baggage, no glitches, my weirdo radar didn’t make a beep, even my ears didn’t pop! The way my journeys and travel plans work out, this was clearly a miracle. It was perfect.

It was short-lived. Grrrrrr!!

I should have known better, than be taken in by the false security of one peaceful journey. It was just the prelude to my senses being assaulted by the chaos that is called KARACHI! The cocoon was ripped open by the first car that nearly creamed me on my way out of the Jinnah Airport. I know Dubai traffic is a nightmare, but it’s a streamlined nightmare. Karachi traffic is driving bumper cars with the hiccups. Dodge, bump, yell, hit, swerve, cuss, and I am not even doing the driving! I just keep me eyes open for the spit missiles that certain imbeciles let loose with no respect for others. Fellow blogger, Viking Mike’s idea of furries on the roof of my car made the drive to work and back so much more interesting.

The pollution and fumes are giving me a rash, not to mention the dryness in the air. Speaking of air, it squeezed the life out of my tonsils! I have the worst sore throat imaginable. Not to mention the hot water and honey that singed my tongue hair. Owwwwweeee. Everything I’ve eaten today tasted like saw-dust, so am eating like there is no tomorrow. My head is not very happy with the piling pounds, but my body is ecstatic with the ‘extra meat’. For the life of me I cannot diet, even my brain rebels at the thought, the only alternate was to take out my rarely used walking shoes. For the past five months the only exercise I may have done is gone shopping. Hey what can I say, I am a woman! Anyways, after fifteen minutes of a slight brisk walk, my ankles were sobbing, I distinctly heard a groan from the vicinity of the right knee, muscles were wailing for the torture to stop. In this out and out war of the mind versus the body, the mind is wining hands down. Hope the blubber melts! I have to say that,Tree-Elf has provided motivation. Every time my body wants to collapse, my mind gleefully paints a picture of Tree-Elf running full out. Shudder. Since I am not willing to subject myself to that torture - yet – I continue with brisk walking.

At this point it is crucial to bring in the relatives. Now that’s a different kind of pain. On my arrival, my Grandparents house was filled to the rafters with aunts, uncles and the several dozen cousins. One chacchi (dad’s brother’s wife) was on a discourse about her capabilities and abilities in a bid to impress the her competition, i.e. the other aunts. Show off! A cousin’s proposal was accepted, I asked if she even talked to the guy and she said she hadn’t. Humph! The teens were discussing cell phones; the men were tossing business woes, while the women were stirring the gossip cauldron. An everyday occurrence in this house but for me it was a shock. In two months had forgotten how chaotic it can get, how completely nerve wrecking, its like trying to play volley ball with ice-skates on. Volley, slip, bruise, return volley, get a grip, focus, balance, volley, fall, volley, volley, volley (that’s 3 aunts tossing questions at the same time) I stayed for an hour, made my excuses then head for my room.

Am really missing home and Bubloo-the-cat’s warmth against my legs. Two nights in a row see me up and channel surfing until the wee hours then running to work, usually late but very punctual about heading back. For the past two days am going loco trying to re-orient myself, had to harass the telecom guys to fix the phone-lines, mosquitoes are drawing blood – half a pint per bite!, car repairs, the needs of several people that depend on me for their living, the relatives shenanigans are making me see red, even the weather is grating on my nerves and work has piled sky high, so I bring it home, only: NO electricity. The generator coughed and puffed and on a final groan gave out. Poor baby. Relief, I was delighted with the quiet, the peace, this was my chance to light up several candles. So here I am, plunked down on my bean-bag, writing this post the old-fashioned way. The shadows are waltzing with the flames, there is a breeze coming in through the window, leaves are being moon-kissed, the darkened corners beckon but head bent I let the ink flow.

My heart is quiet.

Want "Nice Girls"

This afternoon I decided to eat in our room. I was sitting on the floor, leaning against my cupboard with a large bowl of pasta and a glass of juice, continuing a very hot, steamy romance by Christen Feehan and my siblings upto their usually antics. With four girls in one room, (there used to be five) you have to wade through ankle deep clothes and whatnots. One sister was busy shaking her booty to the sound of “Tempted to Touch” I think she is practicing for when she will be back with her husband in Canada. Clothes were being shed, incidents shared, someone had staked a claim to my bed and laptop (the only clean place in the room). I hate messy rooms. Mom has tried to shame them into tidying, saying: “No one can claim girls reside in this house.” They are worse than boys. It hasn’t brought on any shame. There have been moments when they’ve woken up giggling, looking scandalized when they claim they slept with a hanger. One of them had the audacity to claim that she loves it when the room is in this condition. The booty shaker has started a vegetable/fruit diet. She had a carrot for lunch! That comment was followed by snickers and laughter. We are all great at multi-tasking. I continued my novel and lunch. And Bubloo the cat joined in the circus, being the only male in the room he had to put in his two cents. I am officially putting it on record that my sisters are the messiest women on earth. Stamped and signed!

Amidst the chaos, I get a phone call from my best friend in Scotland. After the usual catch-up talk, she gets right down to business and states: “we are looking for a ‘nice girl’ for my brother”, I mumble a “Ah-ha” Since the brother is divorced, with two kids they are having trouble finding a “nice-girl”. And she wanted another one for her husband’s friend who recently got divorced. She wanted my suggestions. The minute I asked what sort of girls are they looking for, all conversation, movement came to a standstill in the room. Ears were trained towards my corner. Bubloo hid under the bed.

One comment she made got me thinking. She said: “men are idiots when they go for sex appeal. Cant they appreciate a woman who is beautiful on the inside?”

Like Mom says: “Are they going to make pickles out of all that beauty!”

So WHAT DO MEN WANT?

JLo’s posterior, Sharon Stone’s sex-appeal, Angelina Jolie’s mouth, Betty Crocker’s culinary expertise, Martha Stewart style home maker. A super mom during the day and a femme fatale at night?

Or would women like my rowdy, bratty, brainy, untidy sisters do?
(two of my brother-in-laws seem to think so)

Nice girls anyone?

(A thankyou to Guyana-Gyal for the inspiration. It was the "nice girl" in your post)

Paradise

Hanging by a thread. On the brink of falling from a cliff into the crimson sea of solitude and surfacing on the shores of the elfin land. Where mermaids and sprites carouse in perfumed, glittering waters of aquamarine. Where elves and witches create magic with a wave of their wands bringing clear skies and pools of blue sapphire seas and mountains of emerald green. Carpets of rainbows spread before your feet, which flick in and out of the spheres of a very vivid imagination. Therefore, I shall slumber into my own world of fantasy where pain is no longer the reason but living life to its glorious fullness is. I thus bid you adieu my friend, we shall meet when fate destines. Leave all the sorrows, the wails, the woes and sins behind. We shall meet in different lands of paradise.

Where I have been

For the past fifteen days I have been trying NOT to travel. My bags are packed, clothes ironed, ticket in my hand-bag. I have driven the Emirates Airlines ticketing agents up and down the walls with:

Bookings – Cancellations
Booked again – am really going this time
Cancelled
Booked
Ummm best to cancel due to an emergency.

Am NOT booking till I am sure I will travel.

Its always hard leaving home, but work awaits.

I am one of those jinxed travelers, who inspite of the abundant positive energy seems to bring planes to a stand-still, (or so I like to believe). I am excellent with delayed flights and free tickets… no wonder I love to fly! The only downers are the creeps I usually get seats next to.

A friend of mine complained saying: “I will never travel with you, things happen!”

Ya, ya – like the time I was proposed to - God knows how many hundred feet - in the air. I didn’t decline till we landed, its best to have an escape route. Strapping on a parachute and jumping after saying a dramatic NO is a little too extreme even for me.

Yes, so for the past three weeks things have been topsy turvey in this Sprite’s life. Since, blogging isn’t an addiction – a not so heartfelt apology to blogging addicts – I get engrossed in other things. I love living.

Bubloo – our resident MALE cat is not a happy camper. There is an absolutely gorgeous Persian MALE cat that is wrapping us around its very furry tail. How do you deal with two territorial male cats. And Bubloo is jealous. Besides being jealous, he hates baths. And its a nightmare to get him into the tub after which he looks like a drowned rat. Mom thought it would be best to blow-dry his wet fur. He hated that! The next morning, am woken by "Bubloo is throwing up on the hall carpet!" - Its not nice to be woken up at 6 in the morning, when you went to bed at 4.00 just to clean up after your cat. But i have to say, he is a darling.

The Bryan Adams concert needs a mention. Moments find me humming a certain melody, a twirl, a sway and I’m back on Cloud No.9. All Im going to say is Bryan Adams Rocked and we rocked with him! The crowd was awesome. A thankyou to Hani for his very detailed post on the concert, knew what to expect

Met a friend for a drink – had a MOCHA for the first time. For a non-coffee drinker it was an experience! I loved the cream that wanted to be my mustache. On leaving, the friend said: “you look disturbed, give me a call if you wanna talk” – I think my aura must have been a different color – close to black. I love such friends! They know when to say the right thing.

These days its eating on the Wild Side! I’m going all out with pickles, spices, ice-cream shakes, lots of juices, and mom’s cooking. Am thumbing my nose at the asthma attack that seems to be just around the corner. Four meals a day and I ill resemble a female version of Humpty Dumpty. I cant wait to fall, so that some macho king's man would catch me. **shudders** so not happening!

For the past three days and nights I have been breathing in and exhaling out business and cultural books in an attempt to help my brother with his assignment. Its only 2500 words for crying out loud!!! but at a Masters level you sure has hell need to put in something that makes sense. So, here we are reading, surfing the net, making notes. Referencing, cross – referencing. I think I now, know all the main theories about cultural conflicts and negotiation techniques. I wanna go back to school. The dead-line is tomorrow. Was thinking that, for a procrastinator I sure have a knack for meeting dead-lines. Hmmmmm.

That’s its from me. Am going to crash for the next two days (Wishing is Believing)


A another apology for not visiting my favo bloggers. Will catch up soon.


Do Not Disturb :)

Sayanara

Cinema Vultures

This watersprite's a movie-buff. Keeps an eye out for true stories, chick-flicks, comedies. Goes without saying that I love watching them on the big screen. In Karachi finding a theatre, screening a latest Hollywood flick is out of the question. So every trip to Dubai sees me making atleast one excursion to the numerous cinemas sprouting around like wild mushrooms.

This trip is no exception, maybe the difference lies in my frequency. Anyways, those visits got boxed in the "Sprite's hibernation period Feb 2006"

So, where was I...hmmm - yes my over-indulgence of visual treats on the big screen. Dubaiites seem to have grasped the whole theatre-going-culture with both hands as a major form of entertainment. And my siblings and I are right there with the lot of them.

Very rarely does it happen that I get to sit next to some stranger, but when it does, the results aren’t very pleasant and the after-shocks of that movie are long remembered.

Take for instance:

The late show for Four Feathers : I got the seat next to a rotund Arab, clad in his dishdasha (thoub- a long white traditional arabic dress), who probably didn’t understand a word of English, since he was busy reading the sub-titles and asking his friend to translate. Okay,I am not a heartless Sprite that cant understand about language barriers, but what really got me annoyed was that he had taken over MY elbow-rest, was sitting in his seat – yoga style,(couldn’t imagine how he managed to fit) happily slurping away on some drink, and every time a romantic scene came on he and his friend would have a conference, a loud one at that and he’d start jumping in his seat. With all his shaking, my seat would jiggle too. I wish I could have clobbered him! And to be honest there weren’t any sizzling lip-locks between Heath Ledger and Kate Hudson but the mini-gorilla sitting next to me seemed to think he was watching the Kama Sutra!!! Every time someone mentions Four Feathers – I groan out loud.

Casanova: I get to sit next to three guys, citizens of some Arab country. Inwardly I growl: "Not again!" Since I was already sitting, a whispered conference ensued and the prized seat went to the lucky guy in the red-T. I squeezed myself into the right side of the seat hoping he would be a decent sort. Thankfully they were well mannered, considering it was Casanova we were watching. But he did take over my elbow-rest! And for the first time, I was thankful to the UAE censorship board!

Walk-the-Line: My sis and I had to pick some stuff from the Mall, and since I'd been wanting to watch Walk the Line, we decided to take in the early show. At that hour the halls are practical empty. We got ourselves a whole row. After half an hour I feel something against my elbow, on investigating I see toes against my elbow-rest. I glance back to see an Arab, in his white thoub. I make a disgusted face, reconsider, put it down to unintentional and move my elbow out of range. The oaf keeps his foot wedged in between the two seats! Since, he kept getting up to answer his blasted cell phone, I decided to move up the row. Thinking he must have gotten the hint, only to have him sit behind me and stick his dirty toes again and touch my elbow! Eeeewwwhhh, that did it! I was so close to creating a scene, I got up and turned around to glare at him! He wiggled his toes!!!! The pervert. Lecherous foot behaviour! I may have forgiven him once, but those were a dirty bunch of toes, the big bulbous toe sticking out, bringing to mind slimy, eel-like creatures. What on earth was he trying to do? Say hi with his foot? Some way to get a girl's attention. Awful, absolutely awful! I stormed down the row and plunked my rear-end farther-est from the odious man! After which he got up and left! He had ruined my movie! I went home thinking: ThankGod I was wearing full-sleeves! But just to be sure, I gave my elbows an extra scrub.

Was waiting outside the counters of the cinema halls for my sisters, when I am approached by a Malbari man (South Indian) in a bright orange shirt, jeans , oily hair, oily skin– he has the audacity to ask me which movie I am going for!! I’m shocked speechless. Do I look like I'm standing there to be picked up!!! That too by some wannabe stud! I give my dirtiest look and say: "NONE!" Then walk off, praying that my siblings would hurry up. He starts wandering around the same area, giving me creepy looks. That does it, Im outta there. I was of the mind to go and complain to the nearest security guard. Dubai police takes serious measures against stalking and harassment. That’s the reason it rarely happens, but I sure seem to attract the biggest weirdos around.

A friend of mine labeled me WEIRDO MAGNET, not because of the aforementioned happenings, but because of the weirdos I meet on my frequent flights between Dubai and Karachi. Now that’s material for another post. Some other time.

Family and friends have a good laugh over the peculiar happenings in my life, the conclusion that is drawn each and every time is that its my face, I look too innocent! What a joke!

Its Thursday tomorrow am thinking of going and watching a chick flick. Hope don’t attract any vultures.

Baskin Robbins shakes

If Hani hadn't mentioned the Ice-cream shakes from Baskin Robbins, I wouldn't have had to put up this post.

Today I had to go and get myself a large, three scoop, strawberry based, cream topped ice-cream shake.

Chocolate Chip
Jamoca Almond Fudge
Pralines and Creme

Am on a sugar high and the blame lies squarely on Hani's shoulders.