The Hawaiian holiday

The mention of Hawaii would always make me a little wishful. When I sniffed an opportunity this time, I clung to it right away. Prices be damned. I didn’t exactly say that to Mint, but he knew how I felt. It seemed like the perfect destination. For the longest time, I’ve wanted a holiday that does not involve a packed itinerary. I wanted to just sit back and do nothing. Hawaii, with its beautiful beaches and killer weather was ideal. We went to Maui, and it was sheer bliss.

We landed on the island on a bright, sunny afternoon. I gleefully abandoned the jacket I was wearing the moment we stepped out of the airport. What joy it is to be dressed in nothing but a thin, cotton tee when it’s almost December! It’s liberating.

The hotel we were staying in opened into the beach. That was another criteria I had. I wasn’t satisfied with the idea of our hotel being close to the beach, I wanted the hotel to be *on* the beach. Prices be damned, again. It made perfect sense. It gave us the opportunity to run back to our room whenever we pleased. It let us walk to the beach with a towel hung on our shoulders. It even let us take unplanned walks on the beach under the star lit sky at night. No hassle of driving around. Just get out of your room and you are there. You hear the sound of the waves as you sleep at night.

On our first day there, Mint and I had some fun splashing around on the beach. I am usually too scared to venture too far into the water. If you know me personally, you know about the horrifying experience I once had in Thailand. But we held hands, and he took me along into the water, telling me he would keep me safe. I also spent some time sleeping on the sand, spread out on a beach towel. It was heavenly.

The weather was gorgeous and I can’t say this enough. Warm, balmy days and pleasant evenings can make your spirit soar. To add to the charm, there was soft music floating in the air in the evenings, courtesy the guy who would sit by the poolside, strumming on his guitar as he sang. It rained on one of the days we were there. We couldn’t hit the beach, neither could we step out. So we hung out in our room, walked around the resort and finally sat by the pool side with a colourful cocktail and some beer battered onion rings. The strange part was me getting hit by a single drink. Really. One drink was all it would take for me to start feeling tipsy. And each time I would think I should stop, I would hear Mint say “Le re. Kuch nahi hoga”. (Just have it. Nothing will happen). He is the one who spoils me and then goes about telling the world that I am the one who spoilt him. Hmph.

We went to Haleakala National Park and we were actually on top of the clouds. I had gone in a flimsy cotton skirt, but thankfully had my jeans in the car. I ended up changing into my denims soon. I don’t remember the elevation, but we were high up there in a world above the clouds. One of the pamphlets I read said the park has such a high elevation, if you go up to the summit and look, you can actually see the curvature of our planet. We did huff and puff our way to the summit, which included the Halekala crater area. It was the first time I saw a volcanic region. However, the air up there was thin. I was gasping for breath and had a sudden headache. We didn’t spend too much time there after that due to my altitude sickness, which was also starting to make me feel nauseous. I threw up in the car on our drive back. Mint says it was the sight of me throwing up that made the cows turn around and walk away. Never mind.

Can you see us standing above the clouds in these pictures?

And of course, we went for a Luau party, which had all the traditional Hawaiian dances, fire eaters, music and unlimited food and alcohol to go with it. It was great, but like Mint said, India has so much of folk talent too. A lot more than all of this put together. We do not monetize it the way they do.

And then there was the food. We bought two big bags of chips and packs of Oreos which we stocked in the car. Driving always comes with munching. For our meals, we ended up going to the same place a lot of times. It is called Aloha mixed plate. I highly recommend it. They have great cocktails and amazing desserts. Their garlic fries are the best I’ve had. I love food. I love eating. I do not understand how people diet and deprive themselves of such pleasures. Food is the best.

Anyway, next we went into a Lava tube. Isn’t that exciting? Imagine us walking into volcanic lava that erupted years ago, solidified and formed cave like structures. It seemed like a long, rocky tunnel. It was pitch dark inside. I held on to my flash light, hoping it doesn’t slip out of my hand and roll away in the darkness. We read the signs posted that explained the formation of the lava tube, studied the structure and texture of the rocks. It was so informational and exciting at the same time. If only I had seen all this as a child, I would have understood all that my textbooks said a lot better.

We had such a lovely, lovely time. Hawaiian folks seem to be in a good mood perennially. They greet you with the warmest “Aloha!”. In fact, they don’t say it. They sing it. They are always smiling and go out of their way to help you. And they are a chatty lot. I remember the first day we arrived, we were just driving up to the reception of our hotel when a man asked us if we were there on our honeymoon. No, we said. He told he asked because we looked madly in love. It made us laugh. Madly in love? How? Mint was at the wheel, looking at the road ahead. I was looking out of the window. We weren’t even looking at each other, let alone cuddling. How did we look “madly in love” to him? Mint said he must be saying it to every couple he sees. It’s funny.

It was a grand vacation. I loved Hawaii. My favourite was the black sand beach. Imagine shining, dark black sand. It was beautiful. We drove around the island, ate good food and desserts, drank great cocktails, took pictures, lounged on the beach, drove to scenic waterfalls, slept a lot, shopped and had a fabulous time. I came back with sand in my hair and the sea in my eyes.

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Enough

The comments on my post North Indians VS South Indians wouldn’t stop. I stopped publishing them after a while. Some of the unpublished comments were very polite. I am sorry for not publishing those. I kept saying I would do it, but I never felt like getting into it. Because if I would approve and publish the polite comments, I would also have to get down to approving the not so polite comments that I had been putting off. And honestly, I was tired of responding.

I don’t usually think too much before I write in this space. The North Indian/South Indian issue has been impacting us for a long time now. I wrote about it, detailing the issues and arguments I came across. The comment section, like always, was left open for your thoughts. I enjoy healthy discussions. I believe exchanging ideas and opinions peacefully can resolve a lot of conflicts. Silence only gives rise to bigger misconceptions and as a result creates bigger barriers. Talking about it openly is the first step in the right direction.

Unfortunately the talk stopped being a discussion and turned into a dispute. A lot of comments seemed fierce and vehement to me. The tones reeked of self righteousness with people refuting each other’s arguments. Do we not know how to put across our point without attacking one another s views?

And then there were some comments from people who questioned my actions and went to the extent of telling me what I should be doing! Some people told me I should never have “started this war on the internet”. Err.. excuse me? This is my personal blog. I will write what I want to. This topic is a prominent page in the story of my life. Not too many people will understand the depth of what we go through. How can an issue as huge as this not find a mention on my blog? Irrespective of that, however big or small the subject is, if I feel it should be written about, I will write about it. I don’t care a damn about what it results in. It’s my personal blog, you know? It runs on my whims and fancies. Nobody forces you to read it.  And saying I “started a war on the internet” is stretching it a bit too far. My blog is tiny little dot in the blogworld, and a tinier speck in the world wide web. This place is too insignificant to “start a war”.

I am amazed. Somebody actually told me “not to waste other’s time by writing all this. Spend your time researching the stock market instead”. Wow. It’s really amazing the way people think they have the right to tell me what I should and should not be doing. I don’t know what to say.

Enough. I don’t want anymore personal attacks. I do not want any more volatile comments. I am done with this. However, if you are interested in understanding the linguistic framework of our country, and I hope you are, I strongly recommend reading this page. The link was shared by somebody in the comment section of the said post. It is a very well researched and detailed study examining issues like language tension in India post independence, revolt against imposition of Hindi, difficulty choosing a national language, the pros and cons of having one, dealing with regional diversity, linguistic tolerance, political propagation, etc. As Indians, we all need to spend some time understanding these issues with factual accuracy. I do hope you spend some time reading it.

Fun times

You know that thrill you feel when you count the remaining days that lead to your vacation? That excitement and anticipation? For me, that is a big part of the whole holiday experience. When that is missing, I feel like I skipped the beginning and jumped right on to the middle. There is a reason I never miss reading the preface of every book. To me, it’s as important as the first chapter.

Sadly, that is not how things work for us. Almost all our holidays are planned on the very last minute. Let me just blame Mint for this. Until the last possible second, I don’t know if we’re going or not. So if we’ve to start our holiday on a Saturday, I will be living in suspense till Friday! It makes me feel disoriented. Shall I allow myself to feel the excitement? Or shall I not? I will be tearing my hair apart and that is when we will finalise things in a mad rush, pay thrice the amount that others would for the same trip and pack in frenzy. I hate it, but its the price I pay for not being willing to plan the trip and get the bookings done myself.

I had been telling Mint to plan our holiday since a few weeks. He didn’t do it. This time, I will spare him because I know he was genuinely caught up with stuff. As a result, we started looking at rates, holiday prices and available tickets etc, only two days before our intended date of departure. I chose the destination. The price that we saw made me cough, choke and splutter. The overall trip would cost us more than what we pay to go to India. This would be an expensive holiday. Shall we go or not? Is it worth the price? As usual, Mint left the ball in my court and asked me to decide. I dithered, thought about it and then passed the ball back to him. You decide! And then he did. He decided we will go and made the bookings. A part of me still thinks he did it because he knew I wanted it.

Well, so there. We leave in a few hours. I am excited. We’ve had a lot of holidays, but this is one I am really looking forward to. Mostly because it involves the things I love. Beaches and warm sunny weather. I’ve packed some good books, sunscreen, bright skirts and my iPod. See you soon.

Nosey woes

We had to go for dinner to Mint’s colleague’s place the other day. I was getting ready and I spent about 5 minutes staring at myself in the mirror – feeling depressed and sorry for myself. The cause for my misery was my nose. I have the most *terrible* nose in the history of noses.

It is long, but that is not the only problem. The bigger problem is that the stem of my nose has a weird dent. It looks kind of okay from the front, but take a look from the side and you will know what I mean. It makes me look like a cross between a parrot and a stork. As a result, I have the kind of nose that will make people recognise me even if they are in coma.

All my life, I’ve lived with people making fun of it. My dad would tell me my nose enters the room before I do. The other day my nose hit the door of the car. It hurt. It bloody hurt. And there, Mint told me he needs to check if the car has any dents. Very kind, I know.

So there I was. Staring at my reflection and feeling sorry for myself. Wondering if my nose was the result of some pichle janam ka shraf.  Curse from the previous birth? I could not do much, so I did the only thing I could really do. Called up my parents and blamed them. I called my dad first.

Pepper: Hi Pa. I called to tell you I hate you. I will blame my genes for the kind of nose I have. Do you even know how it is to live with a nose like that?
Dad: But what can I do? You look exactly like mama. You obviously got her genes. You should blame her.
Pepper: Ya that makes sense. But although I look like her, my nose doesn’t! Hers isn’t half as bad. So how do I know whose genes made my nose? It could be either of you.
Dad: Think about it. You look exactly like her. Even your nose is closer to hers than mine. I don’t even have any proof that you are my daughter. But I know you are mama’s daughter because you look like her, and because I saw her giving birth to you.
Pepper: Okay. So I will call and ask her then.

And so I called my mom.

Pepper: Hi mama. I called to tell you I hate you. I will blame my genes for the kind of nose I have. Do you even know how it is to live with a nose like that?
Mom: What am I supposed to do? You should blame papa.
Pepper: I already spoke to him. He says he can’t be blamed. I look like you. In fact, he doesn’t even know if I am his daughter. He has no proof. And I thought about it. Maybe he is right. How else will I have a nose like that? Tell me who my father is.
Mom: I have a lot of work to do. Bye.

And she hung up. I am still looking for people to blame. My mom and dad refuse to take responsibility. They only pass on the blame to each other. Now I only pray my future kids don’t inherit my nose.

The one sided ways of this world

I heard of something that has been making my stomach churn. Somebody I know vaguely, just got an abortion done after finding out she was carrying a girl. I know, female infanticide is common and it happens everyday. Most of us just look at it as a “disturbing fact” and move on with our life. We believe it is not within out power to change a thing like that. But this time, the sex selective abortion was done by somebody I know. It is depressing me. The nauseating feeling refuses to leave.

Till date, a girl is considered to be a “burden” to her family. She is unwanted, while a boy is sought after and prayed for. There are reasons, of course.  I know I sound really dumb, but truth be told, I was hardly aware of the issues that affect women in everyday life. I come from a family that has girls in abundance. My maternal grandmom had six daughters and no son. Each time she gave birth to a girl, she hoped her next child would be a boy. After six attempts, my grandparents decided to stop having more children and live without a son. This was in the 1940s and 50s. But as they grew, they realised what a boon their daughters were. They did for them, what most sons wouldn’t. It made my grandmom change her outlook. She would go about telling other parents they are blessed to have a daughter, and they are in fact, luckier than the ones who have only have sons. I really admire the way they brought up their daughters, at a time when they were looked down upon.

My dad, when he got married to my mom, told her he always dreamt of having two daughters. He comes from a family where girls are few and far in between. My paternal grandmom too, never having had a daughter, always wanted to have a grand daughter. So when I was born, I was truly celebrated. The celebrations continued when my sister was born. During my growing up years, me and my sister were cherished and spoilt. It never occurred to us that we were actually the lesser members of society. I think I was oblivious to the unfairness and gender biases that existed. Maybe I never paused to think, since I was so unaffected.

And then I got married. Mint’s family, like most Indian families bring up their sons and daughters in very different ways. Consequently, the men and women lead very different lives. The first thing that struck me was that they don’t eat together. The men eat first. The women stand beside them, serving them whenever their plates needs a refill. This was totally new to me. In my home, meal time is family time. We all eat together. I have sweet memories of family dinners, bonding over food and conversation. So it took me a while to accept this difference. Now, I know and understand that some women have this desire to serve their husbands  hot chapatis and dosas, straight off the pan. This does not allow them to eat at the same time. Why the men have no such desire is something I am not getting into now. But I noticed, even if the meal consists of only rice, my mom in law will still stand beside my father in law while he eats, serve him and then eat her meal all alone in the end. When I say serve, I talk about taking a helping from the utensil that is lying on the dining table and putting it onto his plate. Surely, he can do that on his own. He doesn’t even have to get up! So why can’t they eat together?

Let me clarify my stand. There are days when I just feel like serving Mint. There are days when I give him a meal in hand. So I have nothing against this concept. But whenever I do it for him, he looks at me, gives me a grateful smile and says the warmest “Thank you”.It tells me that my actions are appreciated, and not taken for granted. This behaviour is not expected from me. Moreover, there are a lot of days when he gives me meals in hands too, and I say a thank you. It’s never one way.

Women took over the kitchen and ran the house at a time when going out and earning money was solely the man’s job. Slowly, women started entering the workforce, but the men never made it to the kitchen. My mother in law always gives me examples of other working women who manage to run the house efficiently, despite doing it single handedly. She wants me to be like them. She tells me it is possible if I orgainise myself, wake up earlier and work harder than I do.  She is surrounded my women like them. Yes, it is possible for me to be like that. But heck, I don’t want to! Why should I? I refuse to take on all the load, because it is unfair. And even if it is a case of the woman running the house and the man earning, even then I would say this system is very unequal.

The  other day, my inlaws, Mint and I reached somebody’s place after a long and tiring day. Let me emphasize on the fact that all of us were equally exhausted. But the moment we reached there, my mom in law sprang from her seat, walked to the kitchen and asked the woman there if she needed any help with the cooking. I realised, I was supposed to follow her and check with the women if they needed my help too. If I continued sitting there, I would be seen in poor light. The men of course, had the right to just sit and not move a finger.But I had to get up and go because I am a girl. Does this have anything to do with the fact that  my father in law is the bread winner and my mom in law is the home maker? No! On that particular day, all of us were equally tired. Then why can’t the man offer some help too? If this is what is expected of women, why would anybody want to have a daughter?

My in laws were very hesitant to stay at Mint’s cousin’s place while we were in NY. They would have to stay there for 4 days. They kept asking us if they could shorten their stay there and come back, al though we weren’t around. Their hesitance puzzled me. I asked my MIL what was wrong in staying there for 4 days. They had just come back from NY themselves, and had stayed at somebody else’s place for 10 days. So why was the 4 day stay this time bothering them so much? My MIL told me they stayed there cos he was the son of the family, but now they had to stay with the daughter of the family. It riled me up so much. I just stared at her, unable to speak. So it is their birth right to go and live with a married son for as long as they want, but they feel awkward and bad living with a married daughter? If they believe they own their sons, but daughters belong to somebody else, why the bloody hell will anybody want to have a daughter?

That is one reason, I have been very against moving to Chennai. If at all we live in Mumbai, we will rent a place of our own. But if we live in Chennai, Mint’s parents will expect us to live with them. Why does the girl have to go embrace the guy’s family and walk away from her own? This whole concept of the girl living with the guy’s parents is just wrong. It tilts the system in the favour of the guy’s parents. The guy’s parents have somebody around them in their old age. They have somebody to be there and care for them. But the girl’s parents should grow old all alone and have no support in their old age? Why? I repeat, with a system like this, why the bloody hell will anybody want a daughter and not a son?

I worry about my parents a lot. I want to be there for them, if and when they need me. I will not let them be at a disadvantage just because they produced two girls and no boy. I say the same thing for Mint’s parents. We’ll be there for them if and when they need it. Until then, we will live by ourselves, not choose one set of parents to be with over the other.

My mom in law asked me when I was planning to change my last name before she was leaving. I meekly told her I can’t do it right now, because my passport and visas are all under the name I have always had so far. A part of me was silently screaming, “Tell her. Tell her you never plan to do it. Tell her to not question you or have such expectations from you. Tell her you won’t do it because you are not separating yourself from your own family and attaching yourself to hers.” I couldn’t get myself to say any of that. I did what I do best -kept quiet, evaded the topic and moved on. Really, why is the girl expected to take on a new identity that connects her with her husband, while the guy retains his? Has anybody ever expected a guy to add on his wife’s name to his?

I’ve been feeling angry, frustrated and dejected because of the one sided ways of this world. I have only spoken about issues that have affected me. I haven’t even taken the bigger issues into account. Issues like dowry. Until a guy continues to have the upper hand, until the world continues to favour a man, a girl will never be equal. A girl will never be wanted. And until then, a lot of parents will choose to terminate the life of their unborn girl child, and pray to Gods they are blessed with a boy. I don’t know when this will end.

Award with a twisted tag

Stuti presented me with this award more than a month ago. This award, like most other awards comes with a tag. The “tell me about yourself” tag.

I have done these tags way too many times. The last one was wasn’t even done too long ago. So I really didn’t want to ramble about myself anymore. I kept thinking of a way in which I could give it a twist. Finally, I thought of writing about Mint instead of myself. I write about him on this blog so often, I thought it made sense to focus the spotlight on him this one time and give people a chance to get to know him better.

So here we go. The rule is to state 7 facts about yourself. Like I said, I am twisting it to my convenience and writing about Mint instead. As usual, I’ve tried getting as random as I can.

1) He loves mustard seeds. If I am cooking, I make it a point to add in an extra spoonful of mustard just for him. It’s a joy watching him pick out the mustard from the gravy and eat it with relish.

2) He keeps pulling out the skin from the sides of his nails. He is so addicted to it, it gets me really mad. He has been doing it for years. You can see patches of torn skin around his thumbs. Each time I see him pulling out the skin, I give him a thwack and ask him to stop. He says “sorry” and lets go. Only to do it again without realising it in the next few minutes. It really worries me and I don’t know what to do.

3) He is incapable of taking a shower that lasts lesser than 30 minutes. Every morning is a mad rush because he refuses to come out of his shower. He will skip breakfast and will run to the car, but he won’t shorten his shower time. Not even by 2 minutes. He says hot water pelting his face and body for a long time is the only thing that truly wakes him up.

4) If a driver in another car slows down for his sake or allows him to change or enter into a new lane, he makes it a point to raise his hand and signal a “Thank you”. Every single time. It’s something I forget to do if I am driving at times.

5) He will spend hours organising the book shelf in an alphabetical order. He will hang (and wear) his jackets and sweatshirts in a particular order that follows a pattern chosen by him. Considering how messy and unorganised he is in general, such organised behaviour of his confuses me.

6) He has the most perfect feet I have ever seen. The shape of his toes is ideal and they can’t be more aligned. I even told my MIL this time, that I think he has amazing feet and I am quite crazy about them. She just laughed.

7) He eats just about anything. Really, I have experimented. Place any kind of food in front of him, and his reaction is to pick it up and put it in his mouth. It may or may not be edible by normal standards, example, raw potato, freshly kneaded dough, etc. It doesn’t matter. Just place any kind of food in front of him and watch.

8 ) He has been arrested once, for over speeding. Not just ticketed, but arrested.

There. Done. I was supposed to write 7 points. I dislike that number, so I wrote 8. The other part of the award says I need to tag 15 other people. I am not going to do that. But it would be fun if you take it up and write about your partner if you have one. We have the entire blog revolving around us. The partners are often overshadowed and don’t get their share of  limelight. I would love to know more about your other halves. If you do take this up, leave me the link in the comment section and I will follow you.

Glorifying winter

Winter is setting in. I despise this season. I hate bundling myself in layers, I hate the tip of my nose freezing each time I step out, I hate my fingers and toes turning into blocks of ice because of the cold wind that blows. I know most people think winter is a charming season. I don’t. The dark days depress me. To add to it, winter brings the cold rain along with it. It makes the weather even more chilly.

These days by the time I go to pick Mint up in the evening, which is about 6 pm, it’s pitch dark. It feels like its the end of the day already. Like somebody forwarded the time from afternoon to night directly, completely eliminating the evening. I feel gloomy and demotivated. And this is just the start of winter. Since the weather was starting to affect me already, I decided to try and do something to make myself like it. These are a few things that have been making me feel warm and fuzzy.

Scarves. The woolen ones. It’s comforting to wrap the fabric around your neck and feel the warmth. Right now, I only have a dark brown one. Time to go shopping maybe.

Socks. I wore bright red socks today. It was a dull and foggy morning and adding colour to my surrounding made me feel brighter. So what if the colour was added in the form of socks?

Tea. Hot ginger tea. I am usually a filter coffee person. But I associate winter with ginger tea. I made myself a cup today and the aroma of fresh ginger brewing with the tea made me feel really happy.

Soups. The other day we had a hot bowl of  potato and cheddar soup. I savoured the warmth. This was when the in laws were around. They loved it too. I am thinking of adding more soups to our diet.

Candles. I’ve been lighting candles every evening once it gets dark. There is something about soft candle light that adds a lot of cheer. I even bought a new candle stand a few days ago. Now I look forward to the evening and the flicker of pretty glowing flames.

Hot oil baths. I took one today and it made me feel great. I have a bottle of monoi miracle oil from the Body Shop which I used after some heating. I enjoyed it so much, I plan to make this an everyday evening ritual during the coming few months.

Incense sticks. The smell of burning incense is another thing I associate with winter. I don’t quite know why, but the smoky fragrance of sandalwood and lavender wafting through the house makes me warm and cosy. I love lighting one everyday.

My personal body warmer. This is my favourite part. Shoving my cold feet under Mint’s warm body and hearing him yelp. It is the best way to warm up. And the reactions are entertaining * Grins *

This year, I hope to see the glory that winter brings.

Slice of life

So something happened that made me pull down my blog two days ago. I am not going to reveal reasons here, but let me just say that whatever it was, it affected me very deeply. I was in two minds, shall I put up the blog on the www again, or shall I let it lie buried underground, where nobody has access to it. Emails started pouring in. I was overwhelmed by the sheer number of people who wanted to know if everything was alright. So many unknown readers wrote in. I owe a reply to each one of you. I will get to it soon. Thank you so much. Other than that, I am amazed by the number of people who requested access to the blog. Some of them I have known and interacted with in the comment section and on mail, but most of them were completely new names to me. Maybe you folks should say hello sometime?

I’ve been busy. With the in laws around, I hardly had time for anything. There were a lot of moments I wanted to record, so many events I wanted to share, opinions I wanted to express, but there were always massive time constraints to deal with. Not that I had no time. Oh, I did. But I had to make a choice. I would be exhausted by the end of the day, and in the limited time I had, I could choose to either collapse on the couch and watch TV, or open my laptop and type out a post. I chose the couch and TV on most days.

We made a trip to LA with the in laws a few weeks ago. Despite all my apprehensions, we had a good time. We went to Universal studios on our first day, and the next day, we finally went to the place I had been excited about for years – Disneyland! Going to Disneyland and meeting Mickey has been a childhood dream. We went through the rides and it was finally time for the parade, where I would get the first glimpse of all my favourite characters. Mickey was the first to come. I also got to see the Princesses. If you ask me, I will say Rapunzel, with her long hair looked the best. In the evening we made our way to Mickey’s home, where I had a chance to meet him personally and take pictures. Not only did I go, I also dragged Mint and the in laws with me. If you think I am stupid and childish, go away. While we waited in line there, Mint commented, “We are the only group of people here with no kids”. I looked around and realised he was right. Hmph. Anyway, Disney was fun. I did like the place, but despite that, if you ask me if it was worth the price we paid, I will say no.

The in laws had a list of things they wanted to buy before they left the country, and we had left all the shopping for the last few days. Mint ended up having some important work on the last minute and conveniently excused himself, which meant, I had to take the in laws around everywhere all by myself. I don’t trust the GPS too much, and driving to unknown places by myself terrifies me. Unfortunately, I wasn’t left with a choice this time. So everyday after I would get back from work, the three of us would pack ourselves in the car and drive away into the dark evening. We got lost only one time, the rest of the times, we managed. Phew. It gave me some good bonding time with my mil, but the everyday outings left me with no time for myself.

The in laws left last weekend. Just the next day, my class mate from UK arrived with her husband. They’re going to be staying with us for about a week. I love having guests over, but this time, I’ve not had much of a respite. Anyway, its good to have the house full. We’ve been chatting, going out and having fun. In a few days, my aunt who lives in Chicago is going to be here. Like I said, people have been pouring in. I have my hands full. It’s time to get back to regular blogging though. I can only stay away for so long. So everybody, moi is back!

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