A Charmed Life

This has to be the strangest year of my life,

I started this blog believing I could fill it with adventures that involve Indian weddings, but somehow life has been an unexpected journey involving a lot of lessons.

Mostly I am faced with funerals and people in hospital. I mean its endless!

Just yesterday a family member passed from some freak twist of faith, she was coughing and the next thing, they found her dead in bed.

On the way back from the funeral another group of family members met up in a car accident and 1 person passed and two are in hospital.

I am not making this up….

It is like maybe there is a lesson in this for all of us, life is unpredicatable and maybe we think we have it figured it out and know what its going to be like in the next ten minutes and suddenly everything changes.

This brings me to thinking about marriage.

Marriage is a life long commitment. Or least a commitment for part of your life.

We get caught up in what I call “Caption this Photo”

This is when you look at a couple and try and label their relationship and this is why so many woman are obsessed with how you look with your partner

Granted, some couples are very oddly matched, but usually they the happiest and that got me thinking that maybe it’s because they stopped giving a damn, because life is way too short.

Everyone has an opinion about Everything, but it is only your opinion that matters.

I use to fantasize in my younger days of a tall, muscular guy who wrote poetry and was all rebellious. And the Universe answered my call and gave me said guy and threw in a bike and earring just to make the deal sweeter. He was also smart and ambitious and I was gaga.

Until one day he went crazy from taking drugs and tried to ruin my life

I am not making this up either.

I have lived a charmed life!

I ask myself why did I want Biker Boy? And it’s because I wanted to be cool by association.

It led me nowhere.

Marriage is a life long commitment as I have said, and it basically means that you have to be very mature in your decision.

Yes , I am one of those: “It just felt right people”. But it felt right because I knew myself and therefore knew what was good for me, and could spot it when it came.

Growing up has been fun, and growing old will be better, but if I am like all these people that dies suddenly, I want to know that I followed my opinion and not other people’s opinions.

The Samoosa, Potjiekos, Pap scenario

Me: Wow, I am the only Indian girl left in this company! There was “Mary” and “Jane” before (Not real names)
Person A: Yeah but Jane doesn’t really count
Me: Why?
Person A: Because she was too hot

I say Person A, because A stands for Asshole!

I do not think that there is any other way of looking at this. I believe, and correct me if I am wrong that he just said that if a girl is hot she is no longer Indian? Or that Indian girls are not hot.

And so my friends I experience round two of my experience with this person’s prejudice.

Previously it was comments about my religion. And I guess what stung most about that one was when I was explaining that culture dictates why some Muslim Woman are suppressed and he made a snide comment like I was making excuses. But the worse was when I said, “Some people judge me for being educated…..” before I finished my sentence he cut in to say: “You are????????”

I may be seething mad but at the same time I feel so helpless

There are so many stereotypes and assumptions about people and there is nothing that we can actually do to change their minds about things.

I call it the “Samoosa, Potjiekos, Pap scenario”. Everyone has a box that they like fit people into and they refuse to see beyond their own short sighted beliefs.

My first boyfriend was white, in fact he was half Afrikaans and half Scottish, and do you know what people use to ask him when he said he had an Indian girlfriend?
1. Doesn’t she smell like curry?
2. Does she know the Karma Sutra?

How special is that?

Needless to say things never worked out between us but I know what it feels like to be judged and looked down upon just for being different.

Getting married to a Muslim man has not helped the situation, because in some people’s eyes my parents have suppressed me and made me marry someone from the same religion.

These comments and judgments brings tears to my eyes, because how about I just love him so much that I want to put up with his shit and no one else’s for the rest of my life?

How about I love the way he smiles and that we can sit together for hours without talking and just be ok.

Or that he was there when I came out of Anesthetic after my operation, and took care of me when I was in so much pain I couldn’t do anything but cry.

Or that he made me a wooden jewellery box with little doors and draws by hand, and it took him three weeks?

And what about the feeling I have inside whenever we look into each others eyes?

How about that?

How about they all don’t know me or anything about me?

How about just stopping the barriers?

How about just loving people who are different to you regardless?

Words are very powerful, people should be careful with them

SG

So between all the death and illness I have been seeing lately, I have come to realize that there is a lot to be grateful for and that life can be seemingly trivial at times.

I was looking at wedding cakes when I got the news that someone I considered a friend and had worked closely with for two years had passed away. She had been in coma for two weeks prior and I really believed she would recover.

Her death also made me realize that I have many gifts and that I should say thank you everyday for them.

On the other side of the fence however I was still been bombarded with questions by what I am going to call the SG. The Serial Gossipers.

My poor grandmother is lying on a ventilator in the hospital, and being my only remaining grandparent I am not feeling too comfortable with it.

On the same day that my Gran was admitted to the hospital, her sister who had been very ill also passed away and we couldn’t tell her because she was struggling to breathe as it is.

There was so much drama ensuing that you would think people would be subdued right?

Wrong!

While sitting at the hospital in the waiting area, we were asked:
Where is the venue?
What are you serving?
What are the colours?
Who is the cook?
Who is the planner?

And so on and on and on.

It’s actually a little disturbing that the SG have such empty lives that this is all that they know how to do.

You try and cut them off and they keep probing.

I have never been under so much scrutiny in my life!

My Fiancé and I took his parents to the hospital to visit my Gran and one of the members of the SG, watched me like a hawk. Actually; more like a creepy reptile would, at the point where it is about to attack you and paralyze you with some poisonous substance and make your death slow and painful.

It was like: “Come on little girl, do something wrong so I can pounce on you”.

Of course me being me, decided that it was best to just be myself, red pointy boots and tight skinny jeans included.

I do not do pretence so I am sure the SG are feeding off the flesh of my actions and words for the next few weeks.

What I cannot understand is why people are so blinded to the fact that life is so trivial.

One day you could be laughing and discussing veils with a friend, and the next you gone from the planet.

Is it really worth talking about others and being invasive and worrying about what they say or do or they way they act?

I know that every day that passes from now on, I will look at what is good and ensure that I enjoy the next 5 months I have left with my family planning my wedding. Because some people will never have the chance

Speedbumps

I have not abandoned my blog, I have just been experiencing the worse of Life's speedbumps.

However I do have many funny stories to tell, but unfortunately I have no desire to tell them right now.

I have had the horrible experience of loosing a friend and colleague, a great aunt and having my last remaining granparent admitted to hospital

I will be back soon

Sometimes we all just need some time to be alone

On a lighter note, all wedding prep has moving ahead regardless. And the family drama has continued.

Plenty of post to come in the next few days for my little group of readers

In Loving Memory of Annabel

So I tried my hand at domesticity and made some desserts for a lunch that I was invited to.

I was actually visiting my Tupperware friend to collect my order and she said we had to stay for lunch and also invited my best friend and her boyfriend over.

How life has changed, the three of us would party up a storm back at university. We were not even remotely thinking of marriage. We all had our dreams, funky clothes, attitudes and packs of cigarettes.

Now here I was: arriving with my Halaal version of chocolate mousse (No Gelatin), and a peppermint and caramel tart made from scratch.

I have to point out that it was much harder than I thought. I mean the double boiler was overflowing because I added too much water at the bottom and I have to save the chocolate!

I didn’t beat the caramel before hand, just chucked the blob into the cream in one go, so I had to “fold” the mixture for like ten years – who needs pilates? It was still lumpy at the end, but who cares! No one noticed anyway.

But anyway, about three hours later with chocolate mousse splattered on the wall and in my hair; and my brother taking pics in disbelief; I had manage to not completely f#ck it up.

My Tupperware friend made three different dishes for lunch and my Best friend provided the salads and sides.

I was like: What the hell?????? What happened to flirting and dancing and being cute?

The only cute thing around there was TF’s 4 year old son and the puppy she calls Black Bastard, since it has no name yet.

At least we still have a sense of humour I guess,

So the trip down memory lane began, and TF pointed out that we had to console her when she got knocked up 4 years back and got married. I remembered that time and remembered how afraid she was to be a mum, and for the first time I could relate.

I am petrified!!!

I am getting married and that usually leads into having a kid.

Kids are fine, except they belong to someone else.

I don’t even have a desk plant. I just know it would die.

I actually had a plant in my apartment in Cape Town. It was called Annabel and I struggled to keep it alive, and then I left it in the care of my friend while away, and she killed Annabel. The truth is……I was kinda relieved…….sick, I know.

What kind of Mother would I make if I was relieved my plant died???

I mean it always starts this way, ordering Tupperware, making dessert, and next thing you sharing recipes and talking about how to clear nappy rash…….

I discuss Yeats, Rumi and Khalil Gibran. I love the ballet and theatre. I want to win an Oscar, or any award…..

I don’t want to exchange it for developmental sets and kiddies plays.

Ok, so maybe I am getting ahead of myself but marriage scares me.

Firstly there is the potential children fear – add mummy tummy and droopy boobs

Then there is the re-introduction into Indian Culture. What if I loose myself? What if I loose everything that makes me different?

My best friend said it can never happen even if I tried, but who really knows?

I guess that this is apart of the journey, its all one interesting rollercoaster of emotions