Skip to main content

Warm 2010

For 39 years of my life, save once in 2000, I have spent every New Year's eve and New Year draped in not necessarly trendy but all the warm clothings of the world, celebrating two things - the start of a new year and my birthday. Warm wishes that coldly remind me of numbers I would rather chose to overlook.

This year I turned 40. Life begins. And so I arrived at Melbourne's Tullamarie airport just around Christmas and heralded 2010 with beer glasses under the hot Australian sun. A change of place, a change of scene, a change of life in many, small, different ways.

I am right now basking under the Australian summer. The weather is pleasant most days, some days it is hot and arid - am I familair with that. But once the evening sets in, the temperature cools down and there is the pleasant feel to the air. I find the weather awesome. It's a different summer, a unique summer for someone who has only known hot days only in the middle of a year, not at the end of a year. Down under, it is.

Melbourne is beautiful. The roads so clean, the trees so green, the flowers so many, the sky so blue that on a clear blue day as you walk around the suburbs , the soul of the place touches you. You feel the soft breeze, you hear the birds twitter... In a whiff of time, I am almost re-living my childhood days spent in Shillong in remote north eastern India, where the cottages, pine trees, roses and bougain villas dot the houses and landscape. I am left with a touch of peace.


ahoi said…
Wow....i love the way u write..never got a chance to glance at you work. Keep it up and keep posting..


Popular posts from this blog

A Mad Man Or A Boor

What does one do when one encounters a mad dog? Or what does one do when one encounters a man with pre-fixed notions about everything in life, most specifically of women who live alone and give him some importance? The two are equivalent to me and basic intelligence says avoid the paths they tread like plague. But I chose to tackle them head on. I almost got rabbies. The mad man said [sic] " You sound like a very desperate person. A single and frustrated woman who is looking for anyone to leave a comment on your blog so much so that you wouldn't even spare a spammer ." Spammer being, the first comment on the previous post is apparently a spam, an advert for T-shirts. Bummer! I thought it was a handsome Spaniard or Latino, so I had replied "Hi Rodrigo", hoping to take the conversation forward offline. Anyway! All this the mad man found out. I didnt. Sure, I dig comments because I love the spontaneity and intelligence of my friends. And I didn't invite the ma


Two million people at the National Mall in Washington alone. The world watched too as Barack Obama was sworn in as the 44th President of the United States. So did I. I rudely cut roomie's soap operas and switched to CNN to witness history being created. Some day I may live to tell the tale of how Barack, the much touted Afro-American President of the United States, stumbled with his swearing-in oath. I was a bit disappointed as I watched the man who had run the most successful of election campaigns, the man who Americans were pinning their hopes on, take his oath. Clearly, he was under too much of a pressure to be the best. So before Chief Justice John Roberts could complete the first sentence, there was Obama abruptly breaking out into his first names... " I Barack Hussein Obama.." and then waited for the judge to complete the sentence.. The next line was even taxing. He stopped short after two words... " That I will excute ..." and then Justice Roberts cont

Good Girls Don't Drink?

I have been disturbed by the news coming out of my region – the northeast of India - where a teenage girl coming out of a bar at 9:30 pm was molested and beaten by a group of 20 men. The news has even found its way down under for the shocking nature of it. Tabloids and even TV have carried the news. I have always prided myself in belonging to a region that is known for its high tolerance and where women are generally safe and independent. But I have always felt a bit squidgy about Guwahati unlike the rest of the seven sisters. The place is so like the rest of India in many ways, dirty and claustrophobic. That explains why bars are looked upon as sleazy places and women going there beaten up as with the recent case. Just 150 km away is Shillong, the place where I grew up. Night clubs thrive there and till date there has been no case of attacks against women. Reading the news, I am appalled by some of the reactions. “But the girl was drinking,” or “only prostitutes visit that