Just like that.

<-- Ideal day: baking gingerbread men and assorted cookies. They happily contribute to me piling the pounds as Partner is not too fond of sweets. I am eating too many, faaaar too many sweet things. It starts with two-and-a-half-teaspoons sugar in my coffee. In winter was drinking at least four cuppas a day...you do the math. AND to think diabetes is in my blood. Hmmm.


A perfect Sunday: at Torquay, riding down to the beach. We bought bicycles and have been riding around a bit. Melbourne has an interesting cycling culture and no, unlike India, where usually the 'underpriviledged' cycle to work etc, here it's a fitness thing. Most roads and localities have well-paved bicycle tracks and everyone rides with helmets. Implementing something like this in Delhi would SO help with the pollution. Two weeks back, cycled 30 kilometres from home to the St. Kilda beach and back. Have NOT exercised my legs that much in recent history! Felt bloody good. Yes, the guy with the book is Partner.

<--- An evening out: watching the Black Keys perform at the Palais theatre. Audi acoustics sucked, the Keys were bloody great. Melbourne is something of a music capital here and has frequent gigs by biggies. This was my first one with established artistes and saw Gomez and Black Keys perform. Missed out on Prodigy who performed for the Big Day Out music fest. There WILL be a next time...

Recent shopping: during a random drive, a garden gnome from a Heidelberg nursery and 'sticky' frogs; and a cactus pot that says, "I'm a prick." --->

<--- Recent excitement: watching potted green capsicum turn red in my 'garden'. And very soon, I swear I shall murder. Mynahs from India -- the birds we see and go two-for-joy etc -- are killing my saplings. Hate the shits.

Motherhood: growing my first cherry tomatoes!!! Woohoo! (can you see them? li'l green things) -->

<--- Melbourne: looks golden and majestic when the sun sets...this is a noon shot. Despite the fact that Victoria (the state Melbourne's in) is having something of a freak summer, i.e. it's cold instead of a blistering 40-plus; I am enjoying my time here.

That apart, I'm quite excited about Barak Obama signing in as the US president and would be up bright and early -- 6.30 am Australia time -- to watch him being sworn in. I have never had great faith (or any at all) in politicians but Obama... he inspires. And he makes me think: Will we ever have anyone remotely like him in India? Recently, read an interesting news bit on Ibnlive.com that corporate India -- Mittal and Ambani -- find Narendra Modi as the most viable candidate for PM. At least it's not Mayawati. Yet, I don't if that's something to rejoice about.

Politics aside and on the personal front, all girls I know from my school days have a baby. Or are pregnant. Or are planning babies. Or are getting married and will soon plan babies. All I know is I turn 30 in May. Sigh. Met up with Partner's cousin-wife-and-two-kids yesterday. Such gorgeous little girls! Had a brilliant hour playing with the girls in the park, catching them as they slithered down slides and didn't complain about the heat as I pushed 4-year-old Bridget on the swing. A very simple thing, but it's just a very happy feeling as you push a kid on the swing and the kid turns her head around, looks at you and gives you a grin of sheer pleasure. SIGH.


Attended a wedding on Saturday (17 Jan) and had a hard time not bawling as the bride and groom took their vows. When you see tv serials and movies that are based more and more on adultery, threesomes, single life and divorces... It's heartening to have people still want to commit to each other. I will have to invest in a waterproof mascara as there are three more weddings in the near future and I don't want to make an idiot of myself crying there.


AND. Grrrr. Went for a facial after six months -- in Delhi it was once a month -- and the bloody salon woman suggested I use anti-wrinkle, anti-ageing under-eye cream. :( Not to mention that sales girls in lingerie stores now suggest holding-up bras and waist-clinchers for "maturing" women. It's a cruel world I tell you...


Have a writers' workshop -- uni mates -- this afternoon but haven't written anything worthwhile to show them. Hopefully though, they should inspire me...
What's up with everyone else?

18 again with more wrinkles

2050
nursing home full of senior citizens
with eyebrow piercings
- from 'Moving Melbourne through art', read on the walls of a Connex train.

I ate so much mango last night that my stomach still hurts. These days, I can best be described as well-fed. If I am not eating, I am reading and sometimes, doing them together. In the last four months, I've gone through four authors and 36 books. Primarily science-fiction-fantasy and yet not the books/authors that would put me in the voracious-reader-list. I have been reading, eating, gardening, cooking and housekeeping too much to write.

Happy new year to all. "Another year gone by." That sentence can be both jubilant and weary. The last year was a bizarre trip for me. At times uncomfortable, at others exhilarating. A whole lot of new things, sorely missing some old ones.

Another year gone by. I turn 30 in May. It's like turning 18 all over again, more wrinkles though. I would be of legal age to officially have skin-firming facials. Or to have missed the bus with respect to what-have-you-done-with-your life. It's also when it bothers me to not have a precise answer to the question.

A new year, the same old me. Or is it? There are changes. For the better and for the worse. I wear bright red nailpolish. I don't mind if my thighs jiggle a bit. I sincerely bless the girls who help wit bra-fittings. I am also far more conscious of my belly. I am (getting) addicted to chocolates. I am truly enjoying cuddling and think I am getting better at... (grin) I am gardening earnestly.

In Delhi, it was buying saplings from nurseries and watching them grow. Now I am also growing from seeds. It's extremely satisfying. Most plants are new to me here and some are really pretty. Like this tiny-leafed succulent variety called stonecrop. Yet I was very happy to discover a 'money plant' (pothos, devil's ivy) in a Bunnings garden section.

While the new is exciting, the familiar is missed. After joking about haldi (turmeric) in all Indian food - from pizza to chowmein - now I am missing the lack of it. Like I realised this Christmas that I wish I had done some things differently. This was my first 'family' Christmas. I wish in the last 10 years living alone in Delhi, I had made more of an effort to spend Diwali or Durga pujo with my parents. In my attempts at proving that I was self-sufficient (didn't need anyone?), I simply isolated myself. Hmm. So we shall fix things.

While I am in Melbourne, if I have to recreate the things I took for granted, I shall. While I wait for Holi, I will learn how to make laddoos and find out about rangoli colours. Along with the other books read, I am also getting into cook books. Mallu (fish) curry with appams, Moroccan lamb with chapatis, moussaka with garlic bread and rice vermicelli with crispy-fried pork in sweet and sour curry have been on menu recently. I am loving it!

Books I have read in the last 60 days:

Sara Douglass (12 books including the Axis and Wayfarer Redemption trilogies, Troy Game four-book series and two of Darkglass Mountain);
Stephen Donaldson (7, Thomas Covenant Ist Trilogy, Thomas Covenant IInd Trilogy and Runes of Time);
Terry Brooks (16, Sword Of Shannara trilogy, Heritage of Shannara four-book series, Word and the Void trilogy, High Druid of Shanna and Genesis of Shanna trilogies) and A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini.

Looking forward to a year of regular posts!
PS: All pics are from my home, quality sucks a bit, it's from the phone.

Birds and bees don't have a penis

"Don't they think about the children?" fumed my friend in the subject line of her email that contained these images. She has a 5-year-old daughter and lives in the US.

Despite my friend's obvious disapproval of the condom ads, I couldn't help but notice the detailing on the penises. Some art director somewhere either has a dubious clip art collection or must have spent his client's money scouting for models. Whatever be the case, other than some obvious ribaldry, I don't think the ads make the point strongly enough. If the purpose of a condom ad is to talk about safe sex, why mask it in stupidity? As for my friend's displeasure at the ads, I am not too sure I agree about keeping children in the dark about the facts of life.

While I wholeheartedly endorse promoting safe sex, letting kids know too much, too soon makes me a wee bit uncomfortable and a whole lot unsure. When is it too soon? Is it okay to mouth birds-and-bees till a certain age or is it better to tell them exactly what happens -- what sex is -- right from the start?

As a child I don't think I was ever overtly curious about how-babies-are-made. When I discovered, at age 11, what really happens between a man and a woman, it was by accident. I don't remember how the conversation came about between a bunch of 9-12 year kids, but I clearly remember this 8-year-old Sardarji who told us. "A man puts his thing in a woman's thing," he said and guffawed at the expression on our faces. Most of us had reacted with a "chhee". Much before I learnt the words 'penis' and 'vagina', a man and woman's private parts were just that, private.

While I've spoken three languages from the time I was eight-months-old -- English, Hindi and Bangla -- for a long time I didn't know a 'word' for a penis or a vagina. From shame-shame, to no-no, to chhee-chhee, to nangu; the terms I've heard were always about shame, guilt, taboo... always to be kept private and definitely not to be discussed or shown. The whole idea of showing 'it' to someone else and then things being put here and there was confusing, shocking.

The next shock came soon after. The realisation that love between a man and a woman was physical and had a lot to do with my body. It was my paternal grandmother who delivered it... She lived with us for three months in a year, had magic hands, knew Ramayana and Mahabharata both by heart and was an ace story-teller. Perhaps it was she and her stories of Krishna and rakshasas (demons) that make me so devour science-fiction-fantasy books now. She would have loved Harry Potter... Thamma would gently stroke my forehead and tell me bed-time stories. It was also at bedtime that she told me other stuff...

While my mother never discussed boys with me (hell I didn't even know I was supposed to have pubic hair and was initially quite distraught), Thamma took it upon herself to 'prepare' me for my future-husband-to-be. She told me four things. "A woman has to look good to keep her husband's love," was the first mantra. Coconut oil was the next. "A woman's hair is her true beauty," she would say, "...and regular oil in your hair will keep it soft for your husband to play with." The third was 'snowcream'. It was Lakme's vitamin-E rich cream that smelled divine, came in a white bottle with a blue lid and was white in colour. Thamma would laboriously apply 'snowcream' on my limbs with particular care to my ankles, knuckles and elbows. "Always keep your skin soft, no husband likes rough skin," she admonished. The final trick was the Importance of the Neck. "When you bathe, always scrub yourself properly and always, always keep your neck clean. That's where your husband will love you first," she said.

I have seen umpteen Hollywood movies where parents have The Talk with their children. I haven't spoken to current-generation parents but I know for a fact the topic is not something most Indian parents (my parents' generation) willingly discuss. Till date my mother has never spoken to me about sex (Pa is out of the question!).I don't know if Thamma had ever participated in debates on sex education, but I am grateful for what she told me... As shocked as I was with the idea of things being put in me, she at least let me know there was a physical side to love and that I should not be scared of it. Even if she just meant necking!

When Thamma 'prepared' me (1988), living-in, 'dating' and pre-marital sex were out of the question (particularly in India). Today, notwithstanding the Shiv Sena, open secrets and vociferous denials, they are a reality. So are HIV, teenage pregnancies and growing child abuse. Would I rather have my child not know the difference between a good touch and a bad touch or would I tell her what could happen? Do I want my teenage child confused about his/her attraction to the opposite sex -- and thereby either do something silly or feel guilty -- or do I want to be able to guide him/her to make a better, safer choice?

While I might not thrust a tumescent penis in my child's face -- like the ads, which are in stupid taste -- I could perhaps employ some of my Thamma's style and break the news gently. It doesn't have to be shock. Or guilt.

PS: I never replied to you when you sent me that email, so here is the answer. If your daughter sees that condom ad... don't hide the magazine or shut her eyes or tell her to be scared. Just explain and please give her the right terminology.

PS2: Just in case you all noted the headline and are wondering 'do birds have a penis', check the link for an accurate answer.