From Non-Resident Indian to Not-Required Indian

It is very rare that some incident occurs in my life that compels me to put my thoughts into words.

In the past two years I have experienced many memorable incidents and moments, but this takes the cake, hence the urge to blog. You see I’ve just been to India, after five long years.

People, who know me (well), know that I have a strange relationship with India. It is the country I was born in and lived in till my early teen years, years that I spent living a life sheltered by the comfort provided by my parents and family. I had no clue of who I was, what I wanted from life or even what life as a grown-up really is all about. I had neither tasted independence nor the responsibility that comes with it. Of course, I don’t claim to know it all now, but let’s just say I know a lot more now than when I was 12. I could have lived those years of my life in India, Singapore, Brazil, Africa or Uzbekistan before I left these countries and still feel no special kinship to any of these places.

This apparently bothers a lot of people in my life - my lack of ‘feeling’ for India. On my recent visit to India, this lack of my ‘feeling’ prompted someone to correct my status from Non-Resident Indian to Not-Required Indian. A remark obviously supposed to make me feel outraged, brought forth nothing but laughter from me. It wasn’t like this new label I had been bestowed with was untrue.

I would be happy to shrug it off that easily all of the time, but the truth of the matter is, at some level this bothers me. I am often called unpatriotic and also viewed as someone putting on airs of being a foreigner. So, if living in the country you were born in makes you patriotic then why do I find people from my country everywhere I go? Why do I still find resumes creeping in with a desire to settle abroad? Why do I still hear of women seeking a NRI match for marriage? That’s a large part of the country’s population to be labeled unpatriotic don’t you think? Besides, isn’t patriotism a person’s right like religion exceedingly is becoming today? It is quick to label, but have you ever stopped to wonder on what basis are these labels doled out so graciously?

In a world and a time, where there are so many choices, when everyone is allowed to have a preference, I often find myself being judged for having one. In my opinion where I live now is safer, more convenient, caters to my needs and my belief system, better than where I was born. Having lived where I live for all of my teen and adult life, I cannot fathom living in chaos where I am to be stared at like a rather rare museum exhibit every second of every day.

Similarly I have heard many people from the country I was born in, move to where I live now and say that this place is too sterile for their liking. It is their opinion, and I do allow them to express it without attacking them for having their opinions. Unfortunately for me, many of them do not in turn allow me to exercise my right to having my own preferences.

Two weeks back I was in Hyderabad for a week long break, spending much needed time with my best-friend. Don’t get me wrong, I had an amazing time. In reality, I would have an amazing time with my best-friend no matter where we are! But the point is this - I am still Indian enough to remember my favourite foods and stock up on a suitcase full of Indian movie DVDs. My head still nods and shakes involuntarily while I talk and there is no way I can’t break into a mini-dance when I hear a bollywood tune. But apparently none of these matter since I no longer live in the country. While this ‘issue’ used to infuriate me in the past, now it only makes me sad.

The bottom line? I am human, and since I have the means to do so, I will live where I am most comfortable. So should all of you. And perhaps a little less passing of judgment could leave us all to live more peacefully?

And So I return...As of 11am 9 Oct 2009

All my dear friends back home, I know I have been really bad about staying in touch. Though I think of my blog as a way of updating everyone about whats up with my life, I have somehow not found the desire to blog till today since I left Singapore. Whats so special about today you ask? Ive arrived in New York. Yes, finally after 8 years of dreaming nonstop about the bold dashing diva that this city is, Im finally here. When I got off the bus, I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs - Im finally in New York!! But then people would probably look at me strangely or get me commited or something, so all the screaming only took place in my head.

Ive just arrived and Im going to be meeting my bestest friend in the whole wide world Swappy. I sit at a Starbucks waiting for her to come pick me up and it seems like the most perfect moment to finally write again. Picture this, Im in the Starbucks on a barstool with a view of the busy road in front of me watching New Yorkers walking by doing their daily morning rituals. It is only fair to say, that Im having my very own Carrie Bradshaw New York moment right now!!

The next 3 days are going to be full of crazy fun for sure as they usually are when Im with Swappy no matter which city we meet in. But im being unfair to the city that I currently live in, a much more docile sister of New York, yet beautiful and quirky - Boston. So New York my darling, you’ll have to wait for my next blog so I can write more about you, after all Ive only arrived 10 minutes ago…

Boston was an unexpected surprise, the picture I had in my head about it is entirely different from what she really is like. I don’t know where to begin describing, so I’ll start with the thing I know best – Shopping. Having been accustomed to my fabulous Orchard Road in Singapore I was worried to see the malls were so average in Boston. But then someone told me about Newbury Street and the smile was back on my face! Its by far the most picturesque shopping street Ive ever seen. Its street after street of beautiful red and brownstone buildings housing the best brands in the world – Prada, Marc Jacobs, Chanel…the list goes on. I was thrilled to find a Zara on this street (though I never find anything my size in their store, I love going in cos their clothes are so pretty!). So my roomy and I walk excitedly in, spend about 45 mins there where she buys a pair of black pants (really nice!) and a top. I wait for her outside while she pays up and 3-4 times in succession, I hear from the people walking by – Whats Zara? This was a really surprising experience, cos when you live in a place for so long you get used to the brands there and expect that everyone will be on the same page as you when you move to another country!

Boston is filled with students, undergrads, grads, PHDs, med school, law school, nursing school, Design school….you name it and Boston will teach it. There are people from all over the world here it is seriously a kaleidoscope of cultures, which is what makes Boston so interesting.
Bostonians are OBSESSED with the Red Sox, which they rightfully should be, I guess, since they are a terrific team. But their obsession is seriously beyond ones comprehension. On an average I see atleast 10 different people everyday wearing either a Red Sox Tshirt or Hoody or Cap or some kind of paraphernalia. On an average I hear the Red Sox name in a conversation atleast 4 to 5 times a day.

Curious to find out what all this hype was about my schoolmates and I(I can’t wait to tell you all about my terrific schoolmates!)decided to go to Fenway Park and watch the Red Sox play the Cleveland Indians. First of all, we almost froze our bottoms off cos it was damn cold! Secondly, I realized that you should know what baseball is about before you go see the Red Sox play (hehe) some of us girls were so clueless, at the beginning we were like, are they really playing or are they practicing? The most fun part about being at Fenway Park is the beer, the awesome Hot Dogs, the great songs you get to sing in between innings, the classic being Sweet Caroline of course. Personally, the best thing for me was that 40 of us went to see the game together and that just made it so much sweeter! Pics will be up on FB soon!

Well gotta go as Swappy is here!! You know what they say true friends are not bound by time or geography, After 3 months, I am thrilled to meet her and we have kept our promise…we meet in New York!
More soon….
XOXO
Dee

Dee rides the Ambulance!!

Life as I know it has changed since the last week of June 2009. For the last 3 years I have been waiting for a break..for something to change my life, and finally it happened!

Anyway to celebrate this huge news my bestest friend in the whole wide world came to visit me in Singapore 4 days back and as usual we had the time of our life! So over martinis we started rehashing old tales, swapping stories of our most drunken adventures.

One of my crazy stories I told her made us laugh so loud we almost ended up on the floor tearing and gasping for breath! It made me wonder why I never blogged about it, I mean its only fair for all you guys (ok atleast the 4 of you) who read my blog to have a good laugh too!

So here goes, a year and a half back my good friend Zoey flew down from Indonesia when she heard that I was finally out of a moronically morose relationship to celebrate my freedom and to welcome me back to Singlehood (such bliss!). Of course the only itinerary on her trip was - Booze and lots of it.

So we checked into a hotel for a night armed with a bottle of Baileys, White Wine and Tequila (3 things among others I dont know how to say NO to!). One of Zoey's friends who was apparently tying the knot the next month also came along to join her, lets refer to her as Gina. Now I dint know Gina very well but I thought what the heck, the more the merrier. As the drinking began, we got progressively giggly, loud and freaky as most of us women do. We polished off half the bottle of Baileys and the whole bottle of Tequila in 3 hours and somehow found it in ourselves to get dressed and go hit the dance clubs.

Only as we were walking across the hotel lobby to the cab stand did I realise from the way our voices echoed and bounced back off the walls - how absolutely sloshed we were! We reach the club, immediately get on the dance floor and start grooving...in that - our steps dont match the music way that only people really high can achieve...lots of butt dropping hip grinding hair tossing movements. Anyway in the split second of executing one of our hair tossing movements, Zoya and I turned around to look at Gina...and she wasnt there!!

We freaked out...we started screaming her name...we looked in the loo, the smoking room, behind the bar, on the dance floor and then even outside the club. Once we reached outside though, I realised how sick the drinking had made Zoya and held back her hair while she threw up all over the outside of the club. At that moment I knew I had to get her to bed! So I got us a cab and took her to the hotel and put her to bed, she knocked out like a bag of dead bullets.

Now..dont think the alcohol hadnt hit me...I was pretty high myself....but something at the back of my mind was nagging me....that I had to find Gina. So i started calling Gina's phone, again and again. Finally with my mind reeling I took a two minute break to smoke a stick and lo and behold my phone rings and its Gina's number. However when I answer its a guy screaming into the phone with really loud music in the background.

Turns out he is the security guard in the Club we just left and he had found Gina passed out in the smoking room. I told him Id be there in 5, hung up and immediately rushed to the club. I remember pulling into the driveway of the club and seeing an ambulance, I even remember crossing my fingers and thinking in my head...please please please dont let it be for Gina.

Pushing my way through the crowd I finally reached the smoking room to find the Medics hovering over Gina and a Cop is immediately next to me asking me a gazillion questions and then Im following Gina out...she is sleeping like the dead on a stretcher and im pushed into the front seat of the ambulance.

I calmly strap on the seat belt and give a nervous smile to the driver but in my mind im going - WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING IN AN AMBULANCE!! and just as the thought hits me the driver cranks up the Siren and I remember having the uncontrollable urge to laugh loudly!! (I was freaking high you know!)

So we arrive at the hospital, they give me one of those masky things to wear on my mouth..Ten forms are pushed into my hands to fill and they wheel Gina away into the belly of the hospital. I spend close to an hour and a half filling up the forms only to realise I dont know anything about this girl, her allergies, her medical history...nothing!!

So i start digging in her purse (ya the Cops gave me her purse), I pull out her cell phone and start flipping through the contacts, and come across a name that is familiar, I recall her telling us that this guy Jake is now her ex cos she is marrying someone else who lives outside the country.

So I call Jake, after trying to call Zoey a gazillion times..but something told me she was still out cold. Jake makes me call him 3 times to tell him the same story cos he doesnt believe me and he thinks its a drunken prank we are all playing on him. Gosh I still remember standing in the waiting room and screaming - Im not joking you MORON, why cant you just get your butt here??? Seeing my situation a nurse comes up to me, offers to introduce herself to Jake on the phone and persuade him to come down. 5 mins later she hands me back the phone and tells me Ok he is coming. Halleluiah!!

So I wait for another half hour for the guy to get there. He is all mumbling apologies and thank yous. Twenty minutes later we are let into the ICU, Gina is blissfully sleeping. The nurse tells me she is perfectly fine and can be taken home when she wakes up. At that moment I find my whole body filling up with such red hot rage!! Why the fuck couldnt she just hold on to one of us in the club and tell us she needs to go home, We would have taken her!! and now just cos she couldnt hold her drink, I had to spend the whole night in a hospital!! I was so terrified that I wouldnt make sense to the nurses that as soon as I reached the hospital I forced myself to puke out all the alcohol and drank like 4 cups of coffee just to be mentally present in the situation.

I storm out of the hospital and get a cab to the hotel. Its 6.45am when I get there and Zoey is just coming to. I remember telling her the whole story and for some strange reason we end up laughing uncontrollably!! I zonked off and slept till 12 noon the next day just to wake up rehash the whole story with Zoey again and laugh ourselves senseless.

Later that day while I was soaking in the tub and enjoying the last few hours we had left in the hotel, I hear Zoey talking to Gina on the phone and that Gina doesnt even know why she woke up in the hotel. And listen to this - no thank you Dee for taking care of me, nothing - only - Any idea if Dee knows where my shoes are??

Jeez...thats one day that I will never forget in my life. Lessons learnt - 1. No matter how much I drink, I know how to keep my wits about me. 2. Never drink with people you dont know from Adam. 3. Never wear heels if you want to get into an ambulance (HE HE)

When I look back this story seems hilarious, but I will always remember it as the only time I rode the ambulance and that too for a complete stranger who was attacked by - sleepiness.

Nevertheless, its always a great story to tell...I loved re-telling it and blogging it, now heres hoping you will get a good laugh out of it too!

xoxo
Dee

What's in a name?

My not so good friend, William Shakespeare says -'What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet'.You know, if the internet had been invented in his age, he would have never made any wiseass comments about names........

There has got to be a new law passed on coming up with a nickname or ID for facebook/messengers/email IDs!!! People must put their real name in it or they can’t use the internet!! Its either that or they should be arrested and made to serve a gazillion hours of community service!!

You’re probably wondering what the hell I’m babbling about. Well let me tell you a true yet embarrassing story folks!

Sometime last year, I made a friend on facebook. His ID, lets say for anonymity’s sake was XYZ – obviously, that’s not his name. No this blog is not about him turning out to be some sleazeball. Sigh….you have to listen to the whole story to truly understand my level of embarrassment.

So we chatted and we met a couple of times, he would tell me how he likes this girl at work but can’t have her and I would tell him about how Singapore sucks in the dateable men area. It’s obvious that two such miserable people would find loads in common to talk about. We actually hit it off! We drank a few beers, we saw a concert together, we went bowling, I met his roomies, his friends, even the girl he was crushing on and the guy XYZ was competing with for the girl, we all had dinner together! TWICE!!

In my defense that was many many months ago and unfortunately though once in a while he leaves me a comment on FB, he is still stuck in my mind as XYZ.

So horror of all horrors…I come home tonight after dinner and find his roomy online (yes he is wise enough to actually put his real name in his ID). We’re chatting about this and that and then my mind freezes. I want to ask him how XYZ has been…but to my utter amazement…I CANT REMEMBER XYZ's REAL NAME!!!

So I ask his roomy (lets call him Randy) – “this is really embarrassing, I want to ask you how he is but I cant remember XYZ’s name!” And you know Randy..well he is just once cocky bag of laughs…he is really enjoying my misery and he decides not to tell me XYZs real name…!!! Just cos this is entertaining him sooo much!

So I try everything, I look through my emails but all his emails are from XYZ Id with – no signoff – you know, the usual – Sincerely, Dee or Take Care, Dee or Catchyalater, Dee- NOTHING. So I look through my mobile and I realize that a couple of months after I met XYZ my phone screwed up and I got it fixed after which the contacts in my phone memory were completely wiped out. So…..no luck there either.

So here I sit, banging my head against the wall trying to remember his name, while Randy is happily having a good laugh at my expense somewhere out there…

I hate the way this makes me feel! I mean have I become sooooo used to the internet that I now only remember people by their IDs and not their real names? This is SCARY!! ITS FREAKING ME OUT!!!!!!

Well, since I feel so terrible….I don’t know what else I can say about this incident. All I know is that if XYZ ever finds out I forgot his name, he will feel sooo bad. I mean if somebody forgot my name I would probably abuse him for 3 and a half days…OH MY GOD!! What if I run into him somewhere! What would I do then!!! Quote Shakespeare to him? I don't think he would appreciate that much.....

You’d think his name would have come to me by now. But NO, NADA, ZILCH,NOTHING. I cant even remember what letter his name starts with. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW FRUSTRATING THIS IS!!! It’s worse than trying to remember a song…or the answer to a question - or the question to an answer (that is - if you're on Jeopardy!).

Moral of the story, the internet has completely ruined my social skills, or I’m just a really rotten person who cant remember people’s names…..I’d make a good candidate for the MACHINE in the next terminator movie for sure…since I seem to be becoming extremely de-humanified!

Anyway, Im off now…going to try and figure this out over some beers with MsPretty_PinkShoes and MetallicaLuvver79.

KIDDING!!!

Toodles,
Dee

On the menu for Lunch today – Salad, Fries and a Long Chat about ‘Self-Service’

Disclaimer: I blog the way I would talk to my girlfriends, so at time..things could get very graphically detailed. So if this is something that upsets you, don’t leave a nasty comment, simply stop reading and click on the x on the far right corner on the top of this screen. I won’t mind. Thanks!

After several google chats and phone calls later I finally caught up with one of my friends over lunch the other day. I remember the last time I met him was 4 months back for drinks when he had introduced me to his new girlfriend. Nothing is more frustrating than being invited for a drink by your guy friend (for which you turn up alone, no…he is too nerdy for me to dig, but you know how it is..sometimes your friends don’t fit in with your other friends) and then to be surprised by an introduction to his new girlfriend! And then to sit and listen to the romantic tale of how they met and how they are madly in love and how they must feed each other with the same fork even though I could have the waiter bring us another in a nano-second. Anyway my single woman couple-thrashing aside, it was actually nice to meet him again and this time, mercifully ALONE!

A record 15 minutes into our drinks and salads and brief chit-chat about – I hate my job, I want to go on leave, I wish I could escape to Bali or Bahamas, Why is it so freaking hot this year, Why is Obama everywhere I turn, Will I die of H1N1…etc…I finally came to realize why I had him exclusively to myself for lunch.

I had just taken a huge bite of my burger when (did I say salad earlier – no that’s what he ordered, please me and salad? *rolls eyes*) he hit me with the news. It wasn’t the subject itself that made me half swallow half spit out my burger, but the way he said it. “Ermm..so..I wanted to ask you something…You see Mia (fictional name of his beloved of course)..she just bought a Vibrator…”

Ah….there it was...so he wanted to discuss the psychological impact of Mia buying a vibrator - with me. You know usually I feel very proud of being a strong, independent, self-sufficient Single girl especially because I can buy all the shoes and makeup and magazines and clothes I want to without anyone butting their nose into it. When you’re half a couple, you have to save for that romantic dinner, or for this anniversary or that valentine’s crap or another trip etc. But when your attached male friends only want to meet you because you are the last single girlfriend they have left (seriously the hook up rate is either rising very fast or I’m just getting real old) and who they think does not mind discussing such ‘vibrating’ issues with them, it sucks being Single.

I digress. So after he delivers the news I go – So....she bought a vibrator? Good for her! And then his face crumples in self pity and wait for it – disgust - and he goes – What do you mean good for her?? Why does she need one? Does it mean I am no good in the sack? Is that how you girls let your men know that the sex is no good??

From his litany of questions that were all delivered in one breath and in a rather agitated tone I could see that clearly his ego had been severely bruised by what is considered a rather innocent purchase by women of these times.

Usually I love diving right into these discussions or debates as I find them rather stimulating. However, seeing his reaction to the whole thing made me want to quickly change the topic so I said, maybe she only uses it when you travel (yeah he does travel a lot for his job), speaking of which when are you off to China again, I want more DVDs! I said (I really did…can you believe I got all 8 seasons of Will & Grace for only 80 bucks from Beijing??Awesome!). But that didn’t help much…he wanted a discussion and so I decided I wouldn’t hold out on the poor guy anymore.

So I asked him one simple yet rather blunt question – Have you stopped jerking off ever since you met Mia?

As I expected, he blushed, sputtered, tried to vehemently deny it but finally admitted it with a hesitant shake of his head which implied a -No, I haven’t. I did see the light of understanding in his eyes though! The topic immediately died a natural death and yes, you guessed it, lunch finished and hasty goodbyes were said within the next 5 minutes. After which I used the extra 20 minutes for a quick trip to Aldo…Sigh..(ok Sorry!)

In the times of now, men are adamantly fighting for equal rights for men and women (yes that is right, the tables seem to have turned) and refusing to open doors or fetch the newspaper or give up a seat on the train for a lady. You don’t see the women protesting to this new movement, in fact we are darn happy about it. So, in line with this reasoning, if men have a right to self-service, why don’t women? After all, we don’t question men when they have half hour showers…….

Men take pride in it and want their girlfriends and/or wives to be astronauts, or crime solving detectives or big shot CEOs, they want them to guzzle beer with the guys, watch sports with them and read the Freaking Wall Street Journal. Yet they don’t want women to have sex like men!

Nobody can truly explain why people in a relationship with perfectly satisfying sex lives, be it man or woman sometimes find the urge to self-please themselves. I am not even going to try and find out the reason behind the why. I say, Why Not? (Ok I lied, psychologists know why.)

So guys, don’t judge a woman by what comes home with her in a shopping bag. Simply think of it as an extension to lady things – like shoes, bag, makeup etc. They don’t bother you and they give women the same high as sex does, so why get all bothered by a simple piece of vibrating machinery? It’s not worth the sweat. Unless she prefers it over you……..well that’s another issue for another day.

And gals, if you have a boyfriend and feel guilty about owning a Vibrator, please, get over yourselves already. Life is short. When you are dead no one is going to engrave – ‘She had a boyfriend and a Vibrator, Damn Her to Hell’ on your gravestone when you die.

All I’m saying is………What’s good for the Goose is good for the Gander!


Toodles,
Dee

If you can’t tell its Fake, how can you tell its Real?

Guilt. That seemed to be the topic of discussion as my friend and I sat down to our weekly ritual of Margaritas and bitching. My friend, and to protect her identity, I will simply refer to her as Z henceforth, was experiencing guilt and apparently truckloads of it. Seriously! She looked like she was going to pieces because of this Guilt. Needless to say it was about a MAN. When is it not? It seems like most of our emotions in life are invested in men regardless of our relationship with them or most of the time due to the lack of one in our lives!

Anyway, coming back to Z’s story, the guy she was blissfully dating at the moment apparently always had a question for her after they had made love. And it was the same question every time. Every night, like clockwork when the deed was done Z would hear her man pant out “Was it good for you baby?” In the beginning, Z was honest and would purr back “Absolutely Honey..”or “It was mindblowing!” or…OK I think you get it.

A few weeks later Z experienced the moment that all women have at some point or the other faced in their sex lives, the moment when you have no choice but to fake it to spare the guy’s feelings. Pffft..I know… it can be so frustrating! She carried on with her usual moaning and groaning, terrified that when it was all over he would know that she had faked it. So when the usual “Was it good for you?” came at her, she automatically responded with “it was amazing!” What surprised her all the way to her little toe was that he just smiled, kissed her goodnight and fell into deep slumber (as usual) leaving Z to a night of sleepless pondering of whether he had figured out her act or not!

As we sat sipping our drinks, Z told me that yesterday was the 4th night of faking the deed and the guilt of it was killing her. Did he know she was faking it and if he did, why dint he confront her? It had come to the point where she dreaded getting into bed with him thinking she would be discovered any moment and the whole relationship would go into the trash can.

After my usual consolation of, ‘its just a phase, don’t worry about it, we all have off nights etc’, our conversation moved on to other things as we dug into our burritos.

At the end of the evening as we waited for the bill to arrive, I couldn’t stop myself from asking Z something. Throughout dinner I had been wondering about why he kept asking her “Was it good for you?” What could be the reason behind it, was it real concern or….And just like that it hit me, hit me hard enough for a thousand light bulbs to comically appear over my head! Could it be that he seriously was unable to tell if it had been good for her? Is that why the question kept surfacing to ensure him that she had had an orgasm? Which led me to an even more astonishing thought; did he even know if she had had an Orgasm-with him-EVER??

So I suggested something to Z. I told her to consider this logic with a clear head. I asked her to consider this – her guy who never failed to ask her if it was good for her…probably had no idea if she had achieved an orgasm in their lovemaking. Hence, the same question every night to reassure himself that both parties had arrived at the same result. In fact he probably had no clue about a woman’s orgasm, regardless who he slept with. If he didn’t know what it felt like, if he could not tell when your orgasm was real, how could he possibly tell if it was faked?

There were several moments of silence between us while we pondered this logic. Of course the intense moment was ruined with the sharp bursts of laughter that escaped our mouths instantly. After all, it is not everyday that I point out to my good friend that the man she is sleeping with has no clue if ‘it was good for her’ or not.

Hilarious as this story may seem, the male species are to be pitied. I mean, wasn’t it enough that God had to create women’s minds and hearts in a fashion that is unfathomable to men? To top that God goes and gives women the most complex Genital system, understanding which might as well be Rocket Science compared to a man’s system of pull, tug and shoot!!!

So ladies, the next time you fake it…don’t put too much emotion into it…I mean do keep up with the moaning, but don’t fret too much after the deed is done! If you don’t believe me, may I refer you to the Orgasm in a Diner scene from When Harry Met Sally? Yeah…you get what I am saying!

Happy Faking!! (But don’t make a habit out of it, if you’re faking it that much…then its time to…well I’ll leave you to decide that)

Toodles!
Dee