namaste!* 

That's "Hello" in Hindi.

Am pressed for time, and in the wake of the Delhi blast as well as the train derailment news, I thought maybe I should drop a quick line to say that I am doing fine. And that I am quite safe.

It has been 10 glorious days, 7 more to go. We have covered Delhi, Agra, Jaipur, Pushkar, Udaipur and now I am in my second night in Jodhpur. Tomorrow we head to Jaisalmer, another town which I cannot remember the name and thereafter a 10 hour ride to Delhi on 4th Nov for a night. Next, we fly to Chennai for 2D1N and then, it's back to home.

What can I say of the trip so far? Hmm, let's see...
o The architecture here have been mesmerizing and I believe I have enough pictures to share when I return.
o Shopping is great. I've gone bonkers with the accessories!
o Every 10 men I meet, 3 are handsome and 1 of them would be salivatingly yummy. My eyes are having a feast, unashamedly I tell you. Heh.
o Amitabh Bachchan has been a wonderful host. He greets me daily on Cadbury, Coca-Cola and many other billboards and posters on the road. So have Hrithrik as well as Shah Rukh. Haa.
o Food is good. But I miss the Seapark's assam laksa, Puchong's prawn mee, Jalan Alor's cockles, PJ State's duck rice, Bangsar Pasar Malam's chee cheong fun, Wong Poh's butter cheese crab...Sigh! 10 days of spicy food for breakfast, lunch and dinner has taken its toll on me. I always thought I have an Indian stomach, but now I announce defeat. My white flag's hanging high from my belly button.
o I missed my Smokey so, so much.

I would love to write more, but my stomach is churning.

Be well. Over and out. :)
October 31, 2005 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 8:11 pm
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sparklers* 

I was in the middle of the movie “The Duellists” when I received a text message, which came after 2 missed calls.

The number belongs to Gorgeous.

“Oi, watcha doin not picking my calls? Call me back pretty quick!” read the message.

“Am bored 2tears with England film. But got Harvey Keitel. With braids. And tight tights. Haa. Whatzup?” I texted back.

“Right. Your Monday usuals. Me 4got. M goin bak to Oz tmrw. Wanna c u. Tonight. Call me when done. Muaks.”

“Where u? Can skip movie. Boring like shit. Better leave b4 I zzz.”

“Goody! 10 minutes. Usual place. Last one to reach is an oddball and hafta pay.”

Gorgeous is my so-called “last good man” – my precious platonic relationship with a so-called perfect man. I love him so. I really do. And I would do anything (almost) for him. But as I said before, though he is super gorgeous, hence the name, I have never lusted over him. Since he took up acting and got a bit of fame, we’ve not seen each other for a while now. Six months to be exact.

Our “usual place” is none other than McDonald’s Pusat Bandar Damansara. And our fave is the sundae cone. Yum.

He was already waiting for me when I reached. Both hands occupied with the sundaes.

“I feel charitable tonight,” he winked as he handed over a cone my way. I took it with glee. Sundaes always tasted better than Haagen Daas with him around.

I bought the second round.

The catching up was intense and as it was late, we decided to continue at my place. I must, after all, introduce Smokey to him.

“Whoa…you’re right! He is handsome!”

“But of course, I keep the same standard in all male specimen, y’know,” and felt like a proud mother showing off her baby.

Then I made us one big mug of hot Milo. We both share this weird habit of a compulsory Milo drink before bed.

And we continued our talk in my room. Didn’t want my housemate to know I brought a hunk home. After she jealous. Heh.

Updates - Gorgeous has since broken up with Hannah and 2 more slinky bimbos after that. So he’s currently available. I told him about work and work gossips, Jess, P’s wedding, Kinabalu, all the weirdos I’ve met, many Smokey stories and my upcoming Indian trip.

“Oh, happy belated birthday, babe! I heard J sang you a birthday song, Marilyn style some more.”

“Hah, he told you, izzit? Yes, that was quite wonderful actually.”

“Thought you don’t like birthday songs!” only he knows me too well.

“I still don’t. But it’s not every day you get a beefcake crooning you a birthday song,” I defended.

“Anyway, here’s my present,” and gave me a long hard kiss.

Wait a minute…

That felt weird.

I felt weird.

“How? Like or not?,” he asked.

Silence.

“C’mon! I can’t be that bad, right? Why, got bad breath, is it?” He puffed into his cupped hand and smelled it. “Okay, what!”

“Hmm. It’s smooth. And sweet tasting. Like sundae. But honestly, no sparks.”

“No shit!” he seemed appalled.

Long pause.

“Me too. Guess we should never cross the line, eh?” he chuckled.

“I guess not.” And I chuckled back.

We chatted on the bed till 5ish, with Smokey sleeping on my right.

Before I dozed, I felt a warm peck on my forehead followed by a soft “Nite, babe. Love you lots.”

And I felt like a million dollars.
October 18, 2005 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 11:00 am
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u can call me susan* 

Taking the old cue from Simon to do a post on Desperate Housewives, here's the lazy way out.

Have taken the test and lo behold! I am the-one-with-the-hottie-plumber Susan! But the reality check would lead me to having only pot-bellied Indons plumbers. *blah*

Anyway seriously, I always thought I would be more of Bree, with my obsession to having a clean, picture perfect house. And yes, with a kinky hubby who likes to be whipped! Oh, goody!

But then again, I am a bit of a Susan too. [Of course I wanna look that hot when I'm 41!] How so? Let's see...

i) I am a clutz when it comes to guys.

ii) I love wearing casuals, especially white singlet and jeans.

iii) I'm in lust with Prince. Woo!

iv) I want a hottie plumber!

Aiyo...can't do the Top 10 as good as you lah, Simon!

I surrender!

Bow.
October 14, 2005 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 6:06 pm
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bollywood calling* 

The calling has been insistent and getting louder by the day. I mean the calling to get close to my Indian roots.

Which part of me is Indian, you ask?

Hmm...Let's see, for starters, my stomach is definitely Indian as I swallow chillies like there's no tomorrow. And my pen name, of course. And don't let me start belly dancing on you. Heh. [That's not Indian la, you dumb blonde!]

I will be heading to India with 3 girlfriends in about a week's time. To be precise, we will be heading to Delhi, Jaipur, Agra and end in Chennai.

Whoever who has travel info and advice, please feel free to drop me a note.

To give you a head start, below is a picture of Monkey Temple in Jaipur. Beautiful eh?


October 13, 2005 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 5:21 pm
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gem of wisdom* 

Ok. Let's break the sombre mood and look at the bright side of things with this piece of wisdom. Got this via email. Be encouraged :)




Sometimes we wonder, "What did I do to deserve this?" or
"Why did God have to do this to me?"
Here is a wonderful explanation!
A daughter is telling her Mother how everything
is going wrong, she's failing algebra, her boyfriend
broke up with her and her best friend is moving away.

Meanwhile, her Mother is baking a cake and asks
her daughter if she would like a snack,
and the daughter says, "Absolutely Mom, I love your cake."

"Here, have some cooking oil," her Mother offers.
"Yuck" says her daughter.

"How about a couple raw eggs?"

"Gross, Mom!" "Would you like some flour then?
Or maybe baking soda?"

"Mom, those are all yucky!"

To which the mother replies: "Yes, all those
things seem bad all by themselves.
But when they are put together in the right way,
they make a wonderfully delicious cake!

God works the same way. Many times we wonder
why He would let us go through such bad and difficult times.
But God knows that when He puts these things all in
His order, they always work for good!
We just have to trust Him and, eventually,
they will all make something wonderful!

God is crazy about you. He sends you flowers
every spring and a sunrise every morning.

Whenever you want to talk, He'll listen. He can live
anywhere in the universe, and He chose your heart.

Life may not be the party we hoped for,
but while we are here we might as well dance.


October 12, 2005 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 1:07 pm
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stuck in reverse* 

It’s funny how sometimes a simple phone call can jolt you to connect with some grave emotions. This happened yesterday when I about to leave the house to Bukit Gasing for some sweating session.

The number was unfamiliar. And so was the voice on the other end. Then I realized it was P, my ex. With his constant hesitancy, deep down I understood the key agenda of the call. But I lingered on with other topics before I asked him, “I heard you are getting married.”

Pause.

“Yes, I am.” And the tone was a sad one.

All I could offer was my heartiest congratulatory, with pure sincerity. I do wish him and his new bride well, even though I was unsure about this choice. Yet, who am I to judge.

So why the call? I could only assume that maybe he needed to close the chapter. Our chapter. Once and for all. And start with a new chapter.

As for me, I’ve closed the chapter a long time ago. But once in a while, there are some loose pages which manage to creep out and instill new paralyzing fears to love again. I tried with Jess. And the pain is still too great, though it was at a different degree from the last. I don’t think I want to go through that ever again. The hopeless feeling.

Am I stuck in reverse? Not really. More of being in the emo parking mode. It’s not as gloomy as it sounds, I’ve changed for the better, physically and emotionally.

Anyway, I think it’s apt to post the turmoil story which I wrote in end 2003. I think the question posed is still valid. Do let me know if you have the answer…

Best.
October 11, 2005 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 8:44 am
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it's his loss* 

I had gone through a bad breakup. But that was close to two years ago. It was tough. The pain was excruciating, as though your heart was being squeezed dry of every drop of blood. And then slashed to bits, thereafter grinded to dust.

And the roller coaster of emotions was totally incomprehensible. When you think you are happy and in control, misery decides to pay an unexpected visit and takes you on another pit-hole tour. Going deeper from the previous round.

Girlfriends were trying to be supportive. They tried very, very hard. Sometimes to the point I think I pity them. Really I do. I am one hard nut to crack when it comes to consoling. Any friend would vouch to that.

What’s funny is I discovered the most popular encouraging line for someone who has just gone through a break-up is “It’s his loss”.

Even now, upon hearing that my 7½ year relationship didn’t make it to the altar, immediately the consoling phrase thrown my way would be…tadaa…”It’s his loss”.

What does that mean? It’s his loss?

Does it mean…
I am a good woman. He’s a total jerk?
I am gorgeous. He’s a toad, which won’t turn into prince?
I am a saint. He’s the devil?
I am the satin bed sheet. He’s the dust mite?
I deserved someone better. And he doesn’t?
I am positive. He is negative?
Blah. Blah. Blah. Snort.

Sadly, it also means…
My girlfriends are just bad at consoling. They want to make me feel better with the only quick fix-it female ego boosting line they can think of. They think I needed a reason to believe that dumping P was the best decision in my life. And they ran out of what to say. So “It’s his loss” it is. The easiest way out. The right thing to say. Or so they think.

Stay with me for awhile and I’ll show you where this debate is heading.

So I am the good woman, right? After all, it’s his loss.
I deserved someone better, right? Again, it’s his loss.

I’d like to assume that during the first two months after the break-up, P actually had a bad time getting over me. I would also like to assume he had woken up in the dead of the night, many nights, and thought of me. Missing having his arms around me.

So I assume he went to the mercy of his guy friends, hoping to get some male ego brushing that the break-up was indeed the right decision at his end too.

High possibility that the line thrown his way was, “It’s her loss”.

Sounds familiar?

Yes, you see, the table has turned one hundred and eighty degrees.

It is no longer HIS loss, but Mine. Mine. Mine.

He is now the good man. I’m the bitch.
He’s now Prince Charming. I’m the evil queen.
He’s now the saint. I’m the she devil.
He now deserved a better woman. And that makes me lesser of a better woman.
Damn it!

So whose loss is it when two people break up?

I can’t decide.

I dare not.
// anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 8:38 am
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