I had a good conversation with a dear friend today who told me that we had to face the fats.
That's right. He was alluding to the fact that I was slightly fluffy and could stand to lose some fluff.
Now, to fully appreciate this, you have to understand a few things.
1) When we were in our 20s, I was the person who inspired him to lose weight.
2) I only started getting ridiculously large in the last 4 or 5 years.
3) I am a little tired of hauling all this extra baggage around, and its making me crabby inside.
And yes, it may come as a surprise to most of you, but I wasn't always the plump and cheerful person you know today. There was a time when I was a lean, mean, hard ass machine.
One good thing that came out of us "facing the fats" - I remembered that I had a gym membership. True, I havent used it in about 3 months, but I still have it.
So I can start anytime I want. Really.
Monday, October 30
Thursday, October 26
Exam fever
Yes.
For the first time, since 1998, I actually have exam fever. You know the symptoms.
- hands sweaty and slippery
- nightmares that you forgot to answer questions, had no pencils or didn't wear pants to school
- waking up at 7:30am to catch up on undone work
- stomachaches that are not caused by indigestion
- a sudden urge to procrastinate, followed by panic at said procrastination.
The only difference is this time,I am experiencing all these vicariously - through my 7 year old son. He sits for the first exams of his life next week, and we are all sitting for them with him.
The interesting thing is this - no one taught him these behaviours/ traits. We have not made a big deal of this exam thing, certainly not to the fever pitch of alot of my fellow parents who are falling over themselves trying to get their kid to panic or feel guilty. Anyone who knows me and Otrie knows we are rather laid back parents -too laid back for some.
So Hanan's behaviour comes from one place only - school. His teachers must be telling them horror stories of how their little lives will be over if they don't pass this exam. The have certainly been piling on the homework like there is no tomorrow.
So my role in this situation is this - to be a constant reminder of where his help comes from. That it doesn't all depend on him. That he will never walk alone. That this is NOT the valley of the shadow of death, but more like crossing the Jordan - easy, effortless, and full of milk and honey on the other side. The giants are like bread - for feeding on. And God is B.I.G.
We have been saying Psalm 91 - David's song of protection and safety. I hope it helps Hanan feel secure.
Psalm 91 (Amplified Version)
1 HE WHO [a]dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall remain stable and fixed under the shadow of the Almighty [Whose power no foe can withstand].
2 I will say of the Lord, He is my Refuge and my Fortress, my God; on Him I lean and rely, and in Him I [confidently] trust!
3 For [then] He will deliver you from the snare of the fowler and from the deadly pestilence.
4 [Then] He will cover you with His pinions, and under His wings shall you trust and find refuge; His truth and His faithfulness are a shield and a buckler.
5 You shall not be afraid of the terror of the night, nor of the arrow (the evil plots and slanders of the wicked) that flies by day,
6 Nor of the pestilence that stalks in darkness, nor of the destruction and sudden death that surprise and lay waste at noonday.
7 A thousand may fall at your side, and ten thousand at your right hand, but it shall not come near you.
8 Only a spectator shall you be [yourself inaccessible in the secret place of the Most High] as you witness the reward of the wicked.
9 Because you have made the Lord your refuge, and the Most High your dwelling place,(A)
10 There shall no evil befall you, nor any plague or calamity come near your tent.
11 For He will give His angels [especial] charge over you to accompany and defend and preserve you in all your ways [of obedience and service].
12 They shall bear you up on their hands, lest you dash your foot against a stone.(B)
13 You shall tread upon the lion and adder; the young lion and the serpent shall you trample underfoot.(C)
14 Because he has set his love upon Me, therefore will I deliver him; I will set him on high, because he knows and understands My name [has a personal knowledge of My mercy, love, and kindness--trusts and relies on Me, knowing I will never forsake him, no, never].
15 He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him.
16 With long life will I satisfy him and show him My salvation.
For the first time, since 1998, I actually have exam fever. You know the symptoms.
- hands sweaty and slippery
- nightmares that you forgot to answer questions, had no pencils or didn't wear pants to school
- waking up at 7:30am to catch up on undone work
- stomachaches that are not caused by indigestion
- a sudden urge to procrastinate, followed by panic at said procrastination.
The only difference is this time,I am experiencing all these vicariously - through my 7 year old son. He sits for the first exams of his life next week, and we are all sitting for them with him.
The interesting thing is this - no one taught him these behaviours/ traits. We have not made a big deal of this exam thing, certainly not to the fever pitch of alot of my fellow parents who are falling over themselves trying to get their kid to panic or feel guilty. Anyone who knows me and Otrie knows we are rather laid back parents -too laid back for some.
So Hanan's behaviour comes from one place only - school. His teachers must be telling them horror stories of how their little lives will be over if they don't pass this exam. The have certainly been piling on the homework like there is no tomorrow.
So my role in this situation is this - to be a constant reminder of where his help comes from. That it doesn't all depend on him. That he will never walk alone. That this is NOT the valley of the shadow of death, but more like crossing the Jordan - easy, effortless, and full of milk and honey on the other side. The giants are like bread - for feeding on. And God is B.I.G.
We have been saying Psalm 91 - David's song of protection and safety. I hope it helps Hanan feel secure.
Psalm 91 (Amplified Version)
1 HE WHO [a]dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall remain stable and fixed under the shadow of the Almighty [Whose power no foe can withstand].
2 I will say of the Lord, He is my Refuge and my Fortress, my God; on Him I lean and rely, and in Him I [confidently] trust!
3 For [then] He will deliver you from the snare of the fowler and from the deadly pestilence.
4 [Then] He will cover you with His pinions, and under His wings shall you trust and find refuge; His truth and His faithfulness are a shield and a buckler.
5 You shall not be afraid of the terror of the night, nor of the arrow (the evil plots and slanders of the wicked) that flies by day,
6 Nor of the pestilence that stalks in darkness, nor of the destruction and sudden death that surprise and lay waste at noonday.
7 A thousand may fall at your side, and ten thousand at your right hand, but it shall not come near you.
8 Only a spectator shall you be [yourself inaccessible in the secret place of the Most High] as you witness the reward of the wicked.
9 Because you have made the Lord your refuge, and the Most High your dwelling place,(A)
10 There shall no evil befall you, nor any plague or calamity come near your tent.
11 For He will give His angels [especial] charge over you to accompany and defend and preserve you in all your ways [of obedience and service].
12 They shall bear you up on their hands, lest you dash your foot against a stone.(B)
13 You shall tread upon the lion and adder; the young lion and the serpent shall you trample underfoot.(C)
14 Because he has set his love upon Me, therefore will I deliver him; I will set him on high, because he knows and understands My name [has a personal knowledge of My mercy, love, and kindness--trusts and relies on Me, knowing I will never forsake him, no, never].
15 He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him.
16 With long life will I satisfy him and show him My salvation.
Wednesday, October 25
Public Holiday Malaise
It could have been a well spent public holiday. I could have been at an awesome worship conference that I really wanted to go to; that I was supposed to go to by divine appointment I think.
Instead, I let my flesh get in the way, allowed myself to develop feelings of guilt over not being home on a public holiday and therefore had the crappiest day.
Sigh.
Sometimes, its better to do the things that you know are right, rather than things that you feel are right.
On a related but random note, watched The Inside Man, with Denzel Washington and Clive Owen. Good stuff. Extremely good writing. And Spike Lee is a brilliant director who really hasn't got his due credit.
Instead, I let my flesh get in the way, allowed myself to develop feelings of guilt over not being home on a public holiday and therefore had the crappiest day.
Sigh.
Sometimes, its better to do the things that you know are right, rather than things that you feel are right.
On a related but random note, watched The Inside Man, with Denzel Washington and Clive Owen. Good stuff. Extremely good writing. And Spike Lee is a brilliant director who really hasn't got his due credit.
Monday, October 23
Meeting potential family members
" Boy! Come visit auntie for Deepavali ok? And bring your new girlfriend, we would like to meet her."
Dreaded words indeed. The subtext being, bring your girlfriend, so we can stare at her rudely, say a curt hello, gossip about her mercilessly in the kitchen in Tamil and then proceed to ignore her for the rest of the evening.
I remember the first time my husband (then boyfriend) went through this trial by fire. He was perplexed and slightly angry. But as time went by, he learned how to deal with it. And being Otrie, he decided to do the extreme and take it to another level.
He announced his presence in a loud booming voice the minute he entered the house.
He went around and shook hands with everyone and tried to pick up and hug anyone who was smaller than him (including some adults).
He ate with gusto, complimented the host on her cooking and flattered her to the point of embarassment.
He loudly called out when anyone stared at him, making them tell everyone what they were scrutinising, thus showing up the kaypohs and the truly malicious for what they were.
Basically his message was, "You can judge me, but you can't ignore me".
So Vivian, if you felt uncomfortable at our Deepavali gatherings this weekend, or like a fish in an aquarium, I understand. Put up with us for a while, we will get used to you and learn how to include you.
Or you can force yourself on us. I know at least one other person who has, and it seems to work for him.
Dreaded words indeed. The subtext being, bring your girlfriend, so we can stare at her rudely, say a curt hello, gossip about her mercilessly in the kitchen in Tamil and then proceed to ignore her for the rest of the evening.
I remember the first time my husband (then boyfriend) went through this trial by fire. He was perplexed and slightly angry. But as time went by, he learned how to deal with it. And being Otrie, he decided to do the extreme and take it to another level.
He announced his presence in a loud booming voice the minute he entered the house.
He went around and shook hands with everyone and tried to pick up and hug anyone who was smaller than him (including some adults).
He ate with gusto, complimented the host on her cooking and flattered her to the point of embarassment.
He loudly called out when anyone stared at him, making them tell everyone what they were scrutinising, thus showing up the kaypohs and the truly malicious for what they were.
Basically his message was, "You can judge me, but you can't ignore me".
So Vivian, if you felt uncomfortable at our Deepavali gatherings this weekend, or like a fish in an aquarium, I understand. Put up with us for a while, we will get used to you and learn how to include you.
Or you can force yourself on us. I know at least one other person who has, and it seems to work for him.
Wednesday, October 18
Tuesday, October 17
Chaim Potok
I spent the nice long Deepavali break reading 3 books by Chaim Potok. The best thing about reading authors like Mr Potok, is how he totally transports you into his world. Even if the books are not part of a series, the writing, imagery and situational literariness is so consistent, that I feel a little uncomfortable in my own skin after a marathon session like this one. Very few authors can acheive this for me - OSC of course, Anita Shreve does too, and now Chaim Potok.
The Chosen
15 year old Reuven Malter makes a difficult decision to be friends with Danny Saunders, the boy who hit his eye with a baseball and almost blinded him for life. His decision goes beyond forgiveness into true acceptance for his new friend who is a Hasidic Jew. Danny Saunders also has had a rough childhood, raised in silence by a father who was afraid his son's brilliance will make him hard hearted, and hopes his silent treatment will cause enough pain to teach Danny compassion. He expects Danny to take his place as Tzaddik (spiritual leader) of his synagogue, but Danny wants to walk a different path - a path frowned upon by Godly Jews.
This book is about the most basic, and most important of relationships - that between a father and his child. It is also a sort of allegory for man's relationship with God. As long as we see him as G.O.D all in capital letters, He remains unreachable and constantly watching for you to slip. But when you can embrace Him and call Him Father, then you don't have to worry about pleasing Him. You already are.
The Promise
This book taught me a very important lesson. You can agree with the questions that are asked, without agreeing with the answers. I know what probably sounds too simple, but I am a simple person.
There are alot of times when you are taught not to question. In school, at home and even in church, sometimes asking questions is anathema, because noone wants to admit that they don't know the answer.
Reuven Malter faces this situation when his whole Yeshiva is up in arms against a new scientific method of studying Talmud. He is especially persecuted by his teacher, Rav Kalman, who threatens not to let him pass his Rabbinical exams unless he denounces the method altogether.
Reuven realises that sometimes, you have to walk a different way to find answers for yourself, even when the world, as you know it, is against you. And that being pleasing to God is often far removed from being pleasing to men.
The Life of Asher Lev
Of the three books, this one is my favourite. Asher Lev is a Hasidic boy who grows up with an absentee father, a pining mother and an unusual, genius talent for art. He starts drawing startlingly poignant pictures of his life in New York in the early 30s to make up for his father's absence. His father, who spends his life travelling to East Europe to emancipate Jews for his Rebbe, or spiritual leader, does not seek to understand his son's talents, which he calls "nonsense".
Again, Mr Potok has masterfully drawn out the intricacies between a father and his son to tell a touching and painful story of the importance of being accesptable to your father.
By the way, Chaim in Hebrew means "life" or "alive".
To read his own commentary on these books, click here.
The Chosen
15 year old Reuven Malter makes a difficult decision to be friends with Danny Saunders, the boy who hit his eye with a baseball and almost blinded him for life. His decision goes beyond forgiveness into true acceptance for his new friend who is a Hasidic Jew. Danny Saunders also has had a rough childhood, raised in silence by a father who was afraid his son's brilliance will make him hard hearted, and hopes his silent treatment will cause enough pain to teach Danny compassion. He expects Danny to take his place as Tzaddik (spiritual leader) of his synagogue, but Danny wants to walk a different path - a path frowned upon by Godly Jews.
This book is about the most basic, and most important of relationships - that between a father and his child. It is also a sort of allegory for man's relationship with God. As long as we see him as G.O.D all in capital letters, He remains unreachable and constantly watching for you to slip. But when you can embrace Him and call Him Father, then you don't have to worry about pleasing Him. You already are.
The Promise
This book taught me a very important lesson. You can agree with the questions that are asked, without agreeing with the answers. I know what probably sounds too simple, but I am a simple person
There are alot of times when you are taught not to question. In school, at home and even in church, sometimes asking questions is anathema, because noone wants to admit that they don't know the answer.
Reuven Malter faces this situation when his whole Yeshiva is up in arms against a new scientific method of studying Talmud. He is especially persecuted by his teacher, Rav Kalman, who threatens not to let him pass his Rabbinical exams unless he denounces the method altogether.
Reuven realises that sometimes, you have to walk a different way to find answers for yourself, even when the world, as you know it, is against you. And that being pleasing to God is often far removed from being pleasing to men.
The Life of Asher Lev
Of the three books, this one is my favourite. Asher Lev is a Hasidic boy who grows up with an absentee father, a pining mother and an unusual, genius talent for art. He starts drawing startlingly poignant pictures of his life in New York in the early 30s to make up for his father's absence. His father, who spends his life travelling to East Europe to emancipate Jews for his Rebbe, or spiritual leader, does not seek to understand his son's talents, which he calls "nonsense".
Again, Mr Potok has masterfully drawn out the intricacies between a father and his son to tell a touching and painful story of the importance of being accesptable to your father.
By the way, Chaim in Hebrew means "life" or "alive".
To read his own commentary on these books, click here.
Monday, October 16
Give me this mountain!
Give me this mountain! And though I may be
not very sure of how I will defeat
all of my enemies; I will take Your hand
and I know with You, I will conquer the land.
Give me this mountain! I can see it from afar
I know that its immovable and fortified with iron.
But to me its bread, that falls from heaven like dew
Cos I know that this mountain was given me by You.
Give me this mountain! For Your rest is mine.
I need not seek, strive or contrive to find
All of the blessings that You promised to me
And the mountain you have bought for me, at the Cross of Calvary.
Inspired by the story of Caleb, who at the age of 85, said that his strength was as unabated as it was when he was 40. He then proceed to ask for and conquer the mountain of Hebron.
Sunday, October 15
Murukku
It was a lazy weekend. I stayed in bed till 5:30 and then mosied my way over to my mum's to make murukku for Deepavali. This is usually a family affair - ladies only. And not everyone is involved in the making of the murukku. For instance, only Aunty Tami knows how to use the medieval contraption that squeezes the dough out into the oil. Aunty Agnes is in charge of monitoring the doneness of each piece, lifting them out and laying them out on the kitchen towels. I am the stacker - arrange carefully in a spiral in the tin when cooled. Mum just made sure everyone's throats were well moistened with fresh cups of your preferred beverage. Absent this year were Shalini, who is swotting for "O" levels and Aunty Ruba, who .. err, what happened to you, Athai?
But more than our hands, it's our mouths that got the real workout. Who gave birth, who died, who married who (Surya and Jo), who divorced who, whose marriage is on the rocks, who is patching up - no subject was too sacred.
For 4 hours, the 4 of us stood around a greasy electric wok, smelling like oil and murukku and caught up on every human relationship we knew. That's the beauty of talking to women in your family versus your friends. There is no competition - for men, for beauty or for intelligence. Its just true mutual admiration and love, the melding of hearts over the most menial of tasks.
I love this annual activity.
Thursday, October 12
A few crunchy bits
I don't know if other bloggers have this problem, but my biggest issue with starting a new post is always "What do I put in the title?"
I could go the route of the numbered posts, but then noone can tell when I have updated, so I decided to use random phrases that may have something to do with the content, or not.
Anyway, just a few things I wanted to mention.
***
I was talking to a friend in the train yesterday, we were discussing, among other mindless topics, the need to er.. flatulate. Did you ever realise that the person who lets one rip is always the one who either 1) pretends never to notice or 2) is the first one to notice and mention it while holding his nose?
Yes, test it, by all means.
***
Pizza is almost staple food in my family now, since we have many "noone wants to cook, but we are all hungry" days. There are several that we like.
New York Pizza - This is a little joint that only has 3 locations. Harbourfront, Tampnes and Khatib. They served those razor thin and crispy pizzas with a biscuit like crust, and 1 foot long slices. The toppings are your usual stuff, but the sauces they use are awesome. Stay away from the Brooklyn if you can't handle spicy. This was lethal.
Canadian Pizza is good value for money - $22 for 2 largish pizzas. They have a good amount of ingredients, and good balance, which we like. The other thing we like is, the pizzas always arrive piping hot. I am not sure if that's just good service, or Otrie has made enough of a fuss about it often enough, but either way, we enjoy the warmth.
Pasta Mania - This home grown company, I am glad to say, understands tha concept of pizza. Its doesn't try to stuff 4 kinds of cheese in the crust, or make you pay stupid amount of money for a good meal. Try their Calzones. They are freshly made and chockful of goodness.
I hate Pizza Hut. They are overpriced, their crusts are so thick, they absorb all the flavour and more than half the pizza ends up just being a ball of dough in your belly. The cheese overload is ridiculous, and we have never gotten a pizza from them that was more than lukewarm. Pizza Hut ought to rethink their food quality and pricing strategy.
Postscript: Geet has very helpfully recommended Sarpino's, which while looks very respectable, is not available via delivery or accessibity in my part of the country. But the rest of you guys, enjoy. Or open a franchise in the north or something.
I could go the route of the numbered posts, but then noone can tell when I have updated, so I decided to use random phrases that may have something to do with the content, or not.
Anyway, just a few things I wanted to mention.
***
I was talking to a friend in the train yesterday, we were discussing, among other mindless topics, the need to er.. flatulate. Did you ever realise that the person who lets one rip is always the one who either 1) pretends never to notice or 2) is the first one to notice and mention it while holding his nose?
Yes, test it, by all means.
***
Pizza is almost staple food in my family now, since we have many "noone wants to cook, but we are all hungry" days. There are several that we like.
New York Pizza - This is a little joint that only has 3 locations. Harbourfront, Tampnes and Khatib. They served those razor thin and crispy pizzas with a biscuit like crust, and 1 foot long slices. The toppings are your usual stuff, but the sauces they use are awesome. Stay away from the Brooklyn if you can't handle spicy. This was lethal.
Canadian Pizza is good value for money - $22 for 2 largish pizzas. They have a good amount of ingredients, and good balance, which we like. The other thing we like is, the pizzas always arrive piping hot. I am not sure if that's just good service, or Otrie has made enough of a fuss about it often enough, but either way, we enjoy the warmth.
Pasta Mania - This home grown company, I am glad to say, understands tha concept of pizza. Its doesn't try to stuff 4 kinds of cheese in the crust, or make you pay stupid amount of money for a good meal. Try their Calzones. They are freshly made and chockful of goodness.
I hate Pizza Hut. They are overpriced, their crusts are so thick, they absorb all the flavour and more than half the pizza ends up just being a ball of dough in your belly. The cheese overload is ridiculous, and we have never gotten a pizza from them that was more than lukewarm. Pizza Hut ought to rethink their food quality and pricing strategy.
Postscript: Geet has very helpfully recommended Sarpino's, which while looks very respectable, is not available via delivery or accessibity in my part of the country. But the rest of you guys, enjoy. Or open a franchise in the north or something.
Wednesday, October 11
Judging Amy
I don't watch a lot of TV, but Judging Amy is something I cancel appointments to watch. And while I watch it, I expect total silence, no interruptions and preferably noone in the room.
It's my time to completely switch of from reality and live someone else's life for a while. I beleive it's the similar experience to watching daytime soaps.
For those of you who have never seen it, here is a brief synopsis. Amy Gray (Amy Brenneman) is a juvenile court judge who lives with her tweenie daughter and widowed mother (Tyne Daly). She has issues which she tries to battle through like wanting control, inablity to commit, and being secretly in love with her court clerk, Bruce (Richard T Jones). In fact, it's such a secret, she doesn't know it herself.
Add to this amazingly simple plot several layers of dysfunctional family members, gender confused friends and of course the bizarre court cases she hears, and you what you have a is a wonderful meander through the daily life of what it means to be human.
The thing I find most amusing about Amy is that she is a self-professed atheist and she tries to get through all her issues on her own strength. Her control freak persona will not allow her to look to God, but you can see the times where her resolve weakens and she hopes, or even prays, for Divine assistance.
Her mother, Maxine Gray, is a social worker, who works for the Department of Family and Children (DCF). Her job provides me with a large dose of social commentary and ideas on how to get around bureaucracy.
I love this show for many reasons. For one, Ricahrd T Jones is serious eye candy. Second, nothing in the series expects you to suspend your disbelief too high. I can see the things Amy goes through happen to me, if I was a single parent, living with my mom and deadbeat brother. And finally, the writing for this show is so good, it's actually tragic, funny, witty and clever, all at once.
And the actors are so good, they actually make you care about the characters - every last one of them. Heck, I almost wish they would do "Where are they now?" episodes, so I can find out what happened to some of the kids that came through that courtroom.
The sixth season of Judging Amy is showing at 9 pm every weeknight on StarWorld. It may be the last season. So catch a few episodes while you can.
It's my time to completely switch of from reality and live someone else's life for a while. I beleive it's the similar experience to watching daytime soaps.
For those of you who have never seen it, here is a brief synopsis. Amy Gray (Amy Brenneman) is a juvenile court judge who lives with her tweenie daughter and widowed mother (Tyne Daly). She has issues which she tries to battle through like wanting control, inablity to commit, and being secretly in love with her court clerk, Bruce (Richard T Jones). In fact, it's such a secret, she doesn't know it herself.
Add to this amazingly simple plot several layers of dysfunctional family members, gender confused friends and of course the bizarre court cases she hears, and you what you have a is a wonderful meander through the daily life of what it means to be human.
The thing I find most amusing about Amy is that she is a self-professed atheist and she tries to get through all her issues on her own strength. Her control freak persona will not allow her to look to God, but you can see the times where her resolve weakens and she hopes, or even prays, for Divine assistance.
Her mother, Maxine Gray, is a social worker, who works for the Department of Family and Children (DCF). Her job provides me with a large dose of social commentary and ideas on how to get around bureaucracy.
I love this show for many reasons. For one, Ricahrd T Jones is serious eye candy. Second, nothing in the series expects you to suspend your disbelief too high. I can see the things Amy goes through happen to me, if I was a single parent, living with my mom and deadbeat brother. And finally, the writing for this show is so good, it's actually tragic, funny, witty and clever, all at once.
And the actors are so good, they actually make you care about the characters - every last one of them. Heck, I almost wish they would do "Where are they now?" episodes, so I can find out what happened to some of the kids that came through that courtroom.
The sixth season of Judging Amy is showing at 9 pm every weeknight on StarWorld. It may be the last season. So catch a few episodes while you can.
Tuesday, October 10
The Woman with the Golden Voice
OK, not really, but I am going to be the voice of 01 Computer.
My boss has selected me over 1000s of candidates (ok, 25 candidates. I am Indian, we exaggerate) to be the voice of 01 for our new telephone system.
Yes, I will be the annoying voice that says, "Hello, you have reached 01. For marketing, please dial 2745386532947087540356476539184708, followed by the arsed-to-risk key".
The reason I am minorly proud of this accomplishment is that, as the only minority race female in the organisation, I feel that my boss realises the benefit of a company that doesn't sound so completely er... homogenous.
And, of course, that it means my voice is lovely.
I will let you all know when it happens. Then, please feel free to call my company and listen to my sultry sounds.
:-)
My boss has selected me over 1000s of candidates (ok, 25 candidates. I am Indian, we exaggerate) to be the voice of 01 for our new telephone system.
Yes, I will be the annoying voice that says, "Hello, you have reached 01. For marketing, please dial 2745386532947087540356476539184708, followed by the arsed-to-risk key".
The reason I am minorly proud of this accomplishment is that, as the only minority race female in the organisation, I feel that my boss realises the benefit of a company that doesn't sound so completely er... homogenous.
And, of course, that it means my voice is lovely.
I will let you all know when it happens. Then, please feel free to call my company and listen to my sultry sounds.
:-)
Friday, October 6
Less homework, more learning
My son had 42 pages of homework this weekend. 42.
He had 20 pages of math, 10 pages of Tamil and 12 pages of English (handwriting practise)
The 2 10-page Math exercise were on addition and subtraction, the Tamil was a mock exam and the English paper was an exercise on how to write neatly.
Surely Miss Algorithm, or whatever your name is, you should know by page 5 whether your students have mastered addition and subtraction. Especially when there is no variation to the sums at all.
Surely Miss Chalkdust, 5 reptitions of each word would have sufficed to train the kids. Do they need 12 repetitions? Given the limited fine motor skill abilities of most 7 year old, can you have a little sympathy for cramping fingers as they struggle to write "surprised" 12 times in perfect script?
The only homework that I thought was fair was the Tamil, because while it was 10 pages, it covered 60% of the methods and vocabulary that will be tested in the exam.
I do not want my son to be a drone, doing repetitions of boring, mundane work that means nothing. Repetition works for kids with IQs under 80, but surely those kids will be in schools that cater to that deficit.
If it takes 10 pages x 5 sums a page for you to determine if the student understands addition, then maybe you are not teaching him enough. Maybe you are expecting the parents to teach him, while you just grade the papers and do the boring mundane things that your employer expects you to do. Like classroom decoration to the Hari Raya theme.
But I don't want to spend 6 hours a weekend teaching my son. I want to enjoy him, do the things that we like, chill out and relax and worship God. In fact, and this may come as news, that's what most parents want to do on weekends. We send them to school to get the learning. At home, we want to do the loving. And the teaching that they don't get at school. Like social interaction, responsibility with chores, respect and love for parents, and why Aslan is a type of Christ etc etc.
Can we make no homework the default state? (Read this article to learn about this concept)
And can we prioritize learning? I know that's a tall order in the midst of compulsory testing and project work, but school used to be about that. Let's revisit it.
He had 20 pages of math, 10 pages of Tamil and 12 pages of English (handwriting practise)
The 2 10-page Math exercise were on addition and subtraction, the Tamil was a mock exam and the English paper was an exercise on how to write neatly.
Surely Miss Algorithm, or whatever your name is, you should know by page 5 whether your students have mastered addition and subtraction. Especially when there is no variation to the sums at all.
Surely Miss Chalkdust, 5 reptitions of each word would have sufficed to train the kids. Do they need 12 repetitions? Given the limited fine motor skill abilities of most 7 year old, can you have a little sympathy for cramping fingers as they struggle to write "surprised" 12 times in perfect script?
The only homework that I thought was fair was the Tamil, because while it was 10 pages, it covered 60% of the methods and vocabulary that will be tested in the exam.
I do not want my son to be a drone, doing repetitions of boring, mundane work that means nothing. Repetition works for kids with IQs under 80, but surely those kids will be in schools that cater to that deficit.
If it takes 10 pages x 5 sums a page for you to determine if the student understands addition, then maybe you are not teaching him enough. Maybe you are expecting the parents to teach him, while you just grade the papers and do the boring mundane things that your employer expects you to do. Like classroom decoration to the Hari Raya theme.
But I don't want to spend 6 hours a weekend teaching my son. I want to enjoy him, do the things that we like, chill out and relax and worship God. In fact, and this may come as news, that's what most parents want to do on weekends. We send them to school to get the learning. At home, we want to do the loving. And the teaching that they don't get at school. Like social interaction, responsibility with chores, respect and love for parents, and why Aslan is a type of Christ etc etc.
Can we make no homework the default state? (Read this article to learn about this concept)
And can we prioritize learning? I know that's a tall order in the midst of compulsory testing and project work, but school used to be about that. Let's revisit it.
Should I write?
I have decided to write a book.
Ok, it may end up being a novella, or even a short story, but the point being, I think I have a story to tell and that people may think it's worth reading.
One of my favourite authors,Orson Scott Card, has a really cool writer's guide, which is material that he uses for his writing lessons in UNC. And I have been so inspired by his "lessons". (click here to link to his site)
The first lesson is, I beleive, to write about something where you know the subject matter intimately. Therefore this will not be a sci fi book,(although I love the genre). It will probably be a family drama, since I am Indian, and in my family, got plenty drama.
I also hope I can keep the chick lit element out of it, because more times than not, lighthearted books by women, about women,turn out being insipid, ridiculous and not very readable.
So if I do post passages or chapters of the book here, please do gimme your comments, won't ya?
Thanks. I knew I could count on you.
Ok, it may end up being a novella, or even a short story, but the point being, I think I have a story to tell and that people may think it's worth reading.
One of my favourite authors,Orson Scott Card, has a really cool writer's guide, which is material that he uses for his writing lessons in UNC. And I have been so inspired by his "lessons". (click here to link to his site)
The first lesson is, I beleive, to write about something where you know the subject matter intimately. Therefore this will not be a sci fi book,(although I love the genre). It will probably be a family drama, since I am Indian, and in my family, got plenty drama.
I also hope I can keep the chick lit element out of it, because more times than not, lighthearted books by women, about women,turn out being insipid, ridiculous and not very readable.
So if I do post passages or chapters of the book here, please do gimme your comments, won't ya?
Thanks. I knew I could count on you.
Wednesday, October 4
A Message to Indian Expats
Recent events have gotten me so riled against this particular group of people that I have to give vent to my feelings here before I explode and say something I might regret to their faces.
Dear Indian Expat,
1) you are not smarter than me. Sure, you may have a whole string of alphabets behind your name that your father bought from whichever corrupt univerisity you call your Alma Mater, but that doesn't make you smarter. The only reason you were hired for the job is because no self respecting Singaporean will do that kind of work for that little. In case you didn't know, even peanuts in SIngapore is 6 figures per annum.
2) Keep your food morality to yourself. I am really not interested in hearing how meat is bad for you, and how the rancid curd rice your wife packs for you in the morning is so much healthier than food at the hawker centre. In fact we are actually happy you prefer your puke-inducing yesterday's sambar, so that we don't have to jostle with you for space during lunch.
3) Teach your children some manners. Granted, children only ape the way their parents behave, and we all know how petulant some of you are. But it is NOT acceptable for your kids to be running into people while playing on the train while their mothers sit there and compare the designs on one another's jewellery.
4)Singaporean women are not dying to meet Indian expat men. So stop looking at us like we are. We like our men strong, physically fit, independant and manly, the way Singaporean men who have been through NS are. Not interested in soft in the middle, pansy walking, limp wristed men who lived with their mother and a retinue of servants till they got married.
5) Singaporean Indians have risen above petty differentiators like religion, sect, caste and clan. It is no longer an acceptable conversation starter. So don't think we should fall down and worship you just because you know which caste you belong to. People who cling to age old clan and caste traditions are people who have such low self esteem that they have to hold on to whatever history they can find to validate their existence. Singaporeans are alot more secure than that.
Of course, I acknowledge that there are Indian expats who do not deserve this rant and are actually decent human beings. You are hence tasked to teach your countrymen the dos and don'ts of living in someone else's country. Please. Do us all a favour.
Dear Indian Expat,
1) you are not smarter than me. Sure, you may have a whole string of alphabets behind your name that your father bought from whichever corrupt univerisity you call your Alma Mater, but that doesn't make you smarter. The only reason you were hired for the job is because no self respecting Singaporean will do that kind of work for that little. In case you didn't know, even peanuts in SIngapore is 6 figures per annum.
2) Keep your food morality to yourself. I am really not interested in hearing how meat is bad for you, and how the rancid curd rice your wife packs for you in the morning is so much healthier than food at the hawker centre. In fact we are actually happy you prefer your puke-inducing yesterday's sambar, so that we don't have to jostle with you for space during lunch.
3) Teach your children some manners. Granted, children only ape the way their parents behave, and we all know how petulant some of you are. But it is NOT acceptable for your kids to be running into people while playing on the train while their mothers sit there and compare the designs on one another's jewellery.
4)Singaporean women are not dying to meet Indian expat men. So stop looking at us like we are. We like our men strong, physically fit, independant and manly, the way Singaporean men who have been through NS are. Not interested in soft in the middle, pansy walking, limp wristed men who lived with their mother and a retinue of servants till they got married.
5) Singaporean Indians have risen above petty differentiators like religion, sect, caste and clan. It is no longer an acceptable conversation starter. So don't think we should fall down and worship you just because you know which caste you belong to. People who cling to age old clan and caste traditions are people who have such low self esteem that they have to hold on to whatever history they can find to validate their existence. Singaporeans are alot more secure than that.
Of course, I acknowledge that there are Indian expats who do not deserve this rant and are actually decent human beings. You are hence tasked to teach your countrymen the dos and don'ts of living in someone else's country. Please. Do us all a favour.
Tuesday, October 3
A Song for the Love of my Life
From the time I rise in the morning,
The Son shines His favour on me.
In all my comings and goings,
I know His presence is near me.
The people that I meet
don't know what they see in me.
Yet all through the working day,
the Son shines His favour on me.
If I wander off and go my way,
I know He will come and find me.
And when I am found, He won't
have a harsh word to condemn me.
Instead He makes a feast of good things,
and says, "Eat! Till you are filled.
And if this is not enough, ask!
I have so much more to give."
And when the day is done,
He makes me to lie down.
Whispering in my heart that,
all the sweet things in Him will be found.
He is more than just a Saviour,
He is the Lover of my being.
He shines on me, everyday.
The Son shines His favour on me.
The Son shines His favour on me.
In all my comings and goings,
I know His presence is near me.
The people that I meet
don't know what they see in me.
Yet all through the working day,
the Son shines His favour on me.
If I wander off and go my way,
I know He will come and find me.
And when I am found, He won't
have a harsh word to condemn me.
Instead He makes a feast of good things,
and says, "Eat! Till you are filled.
And if this is not enough, ask!
I have so much more to give."
And when the day is done,
He makes me to lie down.
Whispering in my heart that,
all the sweet things in Him will be found.
He is more than just a Saviour,
He is the Lover of my being.
He shines on me, everyday.
The Son shines His favour on me.
Monday, October 2
Product Launch - Terrorist Attack
I attended a product launch by one of my company's main partners on Friday. The brand name will go unmentioned for reasons that will be obvious soon.
The launch had a military theme. The invites came in manila envelopes with Top Secret printed in bold across them. The contents boldly demanded that we attend the "mobilisation".
So far so good. We were all milling around in the reception area, under camouflage nets and green tents. All the staff were dressed in green army supple Tshirts and camouflage pants or skirts. With the exception on the vodka shot girls of course. What is a product launch without women in tiny shorts and midriff baring, barely breathing tight Tees dropping vodka shots in the mouths of open-mouthed guests?
And then, the lights went off. Someone started a strobe light, and we saw a man in a ski mask with what looks like a Soviet machine gun from WWI. He then opens fire at the audience, and tells us to go to the event room for "interrogation".
I don't know about the rest, but for a minute, I was quite alarmed. Strobe lights are scary in them selves, but seeing a ski masked gunman clinb onto a platform, take aim at me and fire away literally made me almost soil myself.
We live in paranoid times, with the danger of terrorism everywhere. Gunned soldiers are patrolling our train stations, for Pete's sake. Don't you think its highly inappropriate to have a product launch to a terrorist theme?
Or is it just me?
The launch had a military theme. The invites came in manila envelopes with Top Secret printed in bold across them. The contents boldly demanded that we attend the "mobilisation".
So far so good. We were all milling around in the reception area, under camouflage nets and green tents. All the staff were dressed in green army supple Tshirts and camouflage pants or skirts. With the exception on the vodka shot girls of course. What is a product launch without women in tiny shorts and midriff baring, barely breathing tight Tees dropping vodka shots in the mouths of open-mouthed guests?
And then, the lights went off. Someone started a strobe light, and we saw a man in a ski mask with what looks like a Soviet machine gun from WWI. He then opens fire at the audience, and tells us to go to the event room for "interrogation".
I don't know about the rest, but for a minute, I was quite alarmed. Strobe lights are scary in them selves, but seeing a ski masked gunman clinb onto a platform, take aim at me and fire away literally made me almost soil myself.
We live in paranoid times, with the danger of terrorism everywhere. Gunned soldiers are patrolling our train stations, for Pete's sake. Don't you think its highly inappropriate to have a product launch to a terrorist theme?
Or is it just me?
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