Updates

We got our missing luggage back. Air India is not so bad after all!!

After lot of dilly dallying, i finally placed my candle making supplies order - wax, wick and all those things i need. i am waiting for my lazy ass of a friend to send me my moulds from CA where i left them. If i am lucky, he just might send them before i die of impatience.

Why is it that when i finally get to blogging, all my thoughts evaporate? i mean, when i am doing other stuff like cooking or bathing, i think of the many thoughts i would capture and lay to rest in my blog. But i log in, click on new post and all that i can manage is mundane update nobody would be interested in. If there were such a thing as mental blogging, hell, i would have crossed some thousand posts.

i am forever glued to the 'rental' websites in search of a new place to rent. He wants a house with a garden. i just want a place that is near to my office and with two bathrooms. Most of the houses have only one family bathroom. i have this thing for bathrooms - having lived in a rented flat with one bath with my sister and having had to hammer at the door near about to burst, nothing would induce me to live in a place where i don't have a spare bathroom to run to. He sends me links to properties miles away from my office and kindly suggests i could take the bus to the office saying it will JUST take me 25 minutes. It is enough to want me to smash a commode over his head. The ones i suggest are either too costly - never mind it is less than what we pay now - or not in a neighborhood he likes. i suppose we are stuck in this apartment till they decide to raise the rent or evict us. Oh well...

The journey that was...

Once again, I left home, a teary- eyed mother, the sultry weather, the crowded streets, the feeling of being home- for earning in pounds..hell, I have my priorities wrong, I tell you. But here I am, in a place where the sun is too lazy to shine.

Of course, since we are cheapstakes we travelled by Air India - and also because they allow you to carry 46 kgs - almost my weight. And of course, it was a journey to remember. The night before the journey, at 12 in the night, the mobile rang and we were told the connecting flight from Kol to Delhi has been cancelled so could we please drag our asses over to the airport at 5 in the morning so they could arrange to send us to Delhi for our flight. That would mean getting up at 3 to get ready - I sorta panicked thinking about how early 3 is - it is an indecent hour to get up from bed except maybe to piss. He set the alarm for 2:30 - I tell you he is a sadistic b&@@&&£))$*€. I almost cried thinking about having to wake before the birds. Anyway, i did manage to get up and we were at the airport at 5. I was very surprised to see the world still existed at such early hours. After a lot of standing in queues, we got our tickets to Delhi by Jet Airways. After more hours standing in queue to get checked in, we finally boarded the flight. And it beats me why they serve so less portion on the damn flight. After Singapore Airlines, it is pretty much hard to travel by any other airlines and notcrib.
We reached our destination only to find one luggage missing - for the first tie in my life I faced the trauma of losing baggage.

We lodged a complaint and came home, tired and sleepy and cranky. And found the lift to the apartment not working. So he had to carry the luggage weighing a ton to the third floor. He, unfortunately, did not break his back -wow, that was mean even for me but remember he set the alarm for 2:30?

We heard that they have been able to trace the bag and they would be sending it over. Imagine! I had given up hope of seeing my poor flea market bought bag.

.....in remembrance

Today marked the second monthly death anniversary of Baba. Two months gone.

And because life has to go on, i have packed away the memories in little sachets tied with love - packed away because i need to forget to be able to move on. Is that cruel? i don't know but that is my way of dealing with grief and loss. i get drawn in an abyss of sadness if i try to remember, i see his face when i close my eyes, the way he suffered and i don't want to remember him like that. i want to forget enough to be able to remember him from earlier days - like when he fetched me from school and took me to have omelette and falooda; when he bought me those tiny cheese packs; how i used to wait up for him to come home; of being his favourite daughter; pampering me and indulging me when i was fussy about eating; telling me not to study so much when he found me still up at 1 in the night....i am so sad now i could drown. And since i cannot live this way, i choose to forget. Till the time i am healed enough to be able to remember without this pain, till the time i can smile when i see his face.

In his memory, we decided to donate lunch for the inmates of Mother Teresa's Nirmal Hriday. Bachou said it was much better than donating at a temple. i could not agree more. And so Emaibem, Ema and i went to the home today. Since the one at kalighat is under renovation, we had to go to Prem Daan at Park Circus. It took quite a bit of asking around before we could find it. There it was in a squalid crowded lane that could barely let our car in. But the gates opened and we were in another world - serene and peaceful. There were so many foreign volunteers - in fact all of the volunteers were foreigners. Some were feeding the old women, one was clipping somebody's nail, another was darning a torn gamcha (towel). i spoke to some of them - one old shriveled woman said she was waiting for death to take her away from her misery, she can no longer walk, constipated....i was almost in tears to see the sufferings. i do not have much stomach for human tragedy...It was a humbling experience. Ema and Emaibem served the inmates along with the volunteers.

i thought ice-cream would be nice in the heat after the lunch. So i got permission from the sisters to get ice-cream for the inmates. i took B, our trusted driver, and we went off in search of ice-cream in the by-lanes. i think he was worried about me and he told me to stay back and he would go alone as it was not the friendliest looking neighbourhood. i waved away his fears and we managed to collect the required number from two shops. It was a treat to see them enjoying the ice-cream and i thought for less than 10 pounds, you could make the day for 50 people.

We gave away all the leftover syringes and medicines - kind of cleaning up and letting go, step by step. Also, i managed to get my sister to open her dreaded wardrobe and after an afternoon spent with me holding up one garment after another asking 'Staying or going' and Ema and my sister deciding whether to keep it/give it away, we managed to glean two big, big bags of clothes to give away. There were some clothes that even had the tag intact!! Why do women buy so many clothes? Beats me.

Ema wants to set up a trust in Baba's and my brother's name - give away gold(plated) medals to students. i said i would rather sponsor some poor deserving students rather than dole out medal to students who would then keep it hidden somewhere (i should know, i have them hidden away god knows where). Only trouble is finding genuinely deserving students. If you know of any, please suggest.

check.. check...check-up

In the last 10 years, i have had 8 medical tests - those stupid mandatory tests you have to undergo before they let you travel outside. And i have not seen the reports or heard anything about the condition of my heart, chest, stool or urine. Ever. Which makes me think i must be very healthy!

i went for one today.

i hate these tests - for one thing i have to get up early and present myself to be prodded and poked and blood sucked out. i cannot understand why they have to insist on taking so much of my blood considering that i don't have much of it.

i don't like the gel they apply before they attach electrodes and monitor your heart or whatever else they monitor. i don't enjoy changing into those sacks which pass for gowns and look like some human drowning in a gown. i don't like them making me read out the letters or trying to make sure i can spot numbers hidden in colourful circles. i don't like drinking half a bottle of water and then squirming about ready to burst waiting for the USG.

And today, after they drew blood (fasting), they offered me a glass of glucose laden water. Damn. i was expecting sweet, milk, banana, egg...anything but a glass of glucose.

And it is funny how the GP always assumes that you being female they can just cross out the 'Do you smoke?'; 'Do you drink?' questions. i don't smoke (unless you count the one time i took a puff of a bidi when i was a kid - yes, i started early -or the one time i smoked grass in Univ) or drink. But hey, i would at least like to be asked.

i was told twice today that my Bengali is so good. Actually it was more like 'Tumi khub sundar bangla bollo' (You speak beautiful bengali) and i went my usual 'oh ekhane onek din hoye geche tai jonno'. The other day someone told me 'Tomar Bangla tah khub poriskar' (Your Bengali is very clear). It made me feel as if my speech was a stream, flowing clear! Hah! i think it is because they don't expect me to be able to understand a single word of Bengali and then i open my mouth and ask something simple like 'Bag tah ki ekhane rakhbo?' and they literally spin around and do a double take. But then i remember being just as unbelieving when non-manipuris speak Manipuri.

Oh yes, and i have gained weight. One kg to be precise. But the lady who took my weight asked me 'Oto roga keno?' (Why are you so thin?). She was a nice one - even help me get into an ugly green gown that made me look like a chinky caterpillar! Ha ha ha...

And we celebrated Meitei New Year today. Katla mach, eromba and salad. When it is your mother cooking, well, everything tastes good.

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i want to have my cake and eat it too...And when you are stupid enough to want that, then you are in for heartache.