Another one week zilch.

"The weekend cometh, and it goeth" said a person with a speaking problem. Again we find ourselves on a busy Monday morning. The birds are singing, the bee's are being bee's, somewhere, the dog is napping, but then, he does that all  day, everyday. He's a very calm dog, Trigger is. I think being a German Shepherd help's. I noticed that these types of dog's are not the usual "I'm jumping up and down, happy, happy" type's. He's more "Oh, hello. Tea? Coffee?" type, you know, relaxed. Except when it comes to motorcycles. Then he lets the dog out. Pun intended.

So, eventful week, this was. No. It wasn't. It was boring and uneventful. But then, I should get used to that, being on holiday for what, a month now? Funny as it may seem, I don't really pass of as the active type. I am content to sit at home and laze, but now it is unbearable. Either there is a psychological part of my brain that is at work, like when you sleep in during weekends and you're like, I'm going to sleep all day, and promptly wake up at half past seven. During the week, you can't seem to get out of bed. Or it could be that I am a passively active person. What that means I have no idea. What I am trying to say is that I like to sit around, but only for a limited time. Afterwards I need something to do.

Which is why blogging helps. Yes. Thank you Google for making my life that much worth living for. Not that it isn't or anything. It's just some thing's are worth living for, like jam. Some thing's aren't , like politicians. And some thing's help you get by, like marmalade. It's not that good in my opinion, but it make's bread taste better when raspberry isn't around. Blogging does have its good's and bad's. It help's you be creative and test the limit of your written linguistic borders that may consequently help you in achieving a better platform of communication with a person you have developed attachment's that are normally associated with affection of the heart. Plainly, it means you're trying to chat someone up. Writing helps. Bad traits in blogging include, I dunno, wasting electricity I suppose.

I have decided to retake playing the violin. I am so enthusiastic about it that I am going to get it restrung this very day. I even got a book. Violin for dummies. No snide comments please. My dad took care of that. It's something to pass the time. If you have a passion for something, do it they say. I really don't think what I am feeling towards the violin is classified as passion but hey, I like music so what the hell. I was contemplating getting the dummy series on guitars, another instrument that I haven't played in like forever. But I changed my mind last minute. Violin is sexier. The piano is slightly hard to get restrung. Wont fit in my car.

Basically, I have attained musical enlightenment. I want to make music. It's fun. It's relaxing and which woman doesn't like a man that isn't in touch with his musical side, eh? Yeaahhh... You see what I mean. They'll be lining up they will. So long as it's not to claim for their broken windows.

It's dusty and not a blade of grass in sight....

Righto. I've put this off for an extra day, God knows why. Where was I? Oh yes, traffic. Simply murder. I mean that quite literally actually, if you don't see the auto rickshaw that is coming in the direction that it shouldn't be coming in, it will most definitely kill you and no one will care less. I was watching Top Gear the other day and they mentioned that there is a highway that stretches from Pune to Bombay where at least 1000 or so people die. I don't remember the exact figure's but when I heard it, it was staggering.

The food. That is the interesting bit. Indian's are not completely meat eaters. We are more subdued in that sort of meat eating aspect. We don't eat beef for religious reasons and that is an irony in itself the way I see it but I'll let that pass. We observe vegetarianism for certain months of the calender or when someone die's or there is a religious thing going on. The reason being that God is a vegetarian. Another irony in my opinion, but again, I'll let that pass.

If you are Malaysian and a non-Indian, you would think that our food is mainly based on curries and rice with lots of veggies in it. And you would be right. You would think that the local 'anne' in the curry house serving you mutton varuval and chicken chettinad shows the true form of Indian food. And you would be dead wrong. That doesn't even scratch the surface of what real Indian food is. We don't need to use curry powder if we could avoid it. Real Indian food is so rich and so totally different from whatever nonsense you get from shops like Maalas Curry House or Shammini's Chettinad King Cuisine or whatever be it in the trendiest part of Bangsar or Bukit Bintang. 

The kind of food that makes you think of five star service and what not in Malaysia is actually what you can get from a road side stall in India. It puts you off it does. I go there almost every other year and I can never get used to the food. Always something or the other will go wrong and my stomach will not be on best terms with me for the duration of the trip, which is a big dimmer in the whole experience. So much so that every time I do go there I am bound to lose weight. Which is a plus point.

I would recommend going to India though. It's different. If you think we Malaysian's have it tough with work and education and family and all, you are all wusses compared to what they have to go through. There are people there surrounded by poverty and no chance of seeing the outside world but they persevere and I suppose they have the "If I don't get there, my son/daughter will" sort of attitude. Its amazing. I was watching the news there the other day (In English) and there was this huge accident where two trains had crashed into each other. I dunno how many had died, but within hours, normal service had resumed. Tell me that isn't impressive.

Not long before that, the attack on the Taj and the Oberoi. I was there. I was in Bombay at the time. Just getting into the city in the morning after being in Calcutta for the whole week for my cousin (another one) was getting married. People were killed and the city was in lock down. Soldiers carrying machine guns were staring at us  with suspicious looks and armored vehicles were everywhere. The next day, everything is back to normal.

Its a great country if you enjoy different culture's. India is diverse too. Only while here we have differences that are noticeable, I mean, you can differentiate an Indian to a Malay to a Chinese, and we are all free to choose our own religion, there everyone is an Indian but religion is up to what you believe in. So you have a bit of everything and maybe more.  A lot of festivities and the gap between people was broken a long long time ago. Now, they dont need a politician going around telling us that only through 1 Malaysia can Ali and Cheong and Raman be good friends. They were there long ago.

I will keep going there again and again and again. I hope if you can, you do the same. Because it is India, and in my opinion, where it all started.

Mystical India was dusty...

I was given an idea for this piece. So here is a big acknowledgement to Allysha. Right. That's that done. So. A piece on magnificent India. It's a country, suprisingly large one at that. 22 languages a population of over a billion or something like that. That's could be wrong, as they seem to grow in the thousands daily. And thankfully die at the same rate.

I was from there. Well, technically speaking of course. I am an Indian by race. The country where I was born and raised still seems to think its better for all of us to be separated by that race thingy. Honestly, I don't really disagree with them. Malaysia is a diverse country, and most of the different races do look different, so all right I suppose.

Anyway, India. Right. First time I went there, was for my cousin sisters wedding back in 200-something or rather. Can't really remember. Never was too good with date's. Serious failing of mine. So, I cant really give you a proper account of what it was like that year. But thankfully, I have been there another 5 times after that and yeah, I can sorta-kinda-maybe tell you that it's nothing like what you think it is.

If you think it is a dirty, smelly, poverty stricken, overpopulated place, because that is what people project into our minds through the tv, then you would be about 50% right. It is grossly overpopulated, most people are subjected to the hard life due to that and it is dusty. Or that may have been the place I visited.

See, the story is funny. My grandfather, this is my mothers father, had decided that, after he had retired and gone back to India with his daughters and wife, leaving behind his sons in Malaysia, that his daughter's who had to marry at the time (or else people would talk), had to well, marry. My mother wasn't a candidate, but her two elder sisters were. This ladies and gent's is the real reason, I go to India. Not to see the sights, not to backpack and see the slum's and feel sorry for all of the poverty stricken, but to see my aunts. And along the way, I do see slums and sights that tickle and touch your heart at the same time.

So both my aunts live in two seriously far away places. A day's journey on the train. Yes, I have been on it. It was very different and it will put KTM to shame. One is in Bombay, familiar. One is in Hyderabad, Andra Pradesh. I make this distinction because there is another Hyderabad, Pakistan. Which was a part of India, much like Bangladesh and Punjab, all of which are not now. I wont go into detail as I don't know the whole story.

They speak different languages in both states. Telugu, in Hyderabad, and Hindi in Bombay. My aunts can both speak their own states respective languages added to English and Malyalam, our mother tounge. Which makes them quite versatile. In a very languagy sort of way. Its a place that grow's on you. It is culture shock to the max for people who have never been there before. So people like my dear idea giver wouldn't do too well, but I have my doubts. People do what come's naturally on the sides of streets and if you are unlucky enough you will have the great chance of seeing one in action. Like I said, it grows on you.

Then there is traffic, which is a adventure on its own. If you survive it, it shows you are very alert and agile. If you don't, you will die. The country has the most worst driving the world has ever seen. I make this up not. This is a fact. The can make three lanes in a one lane road, and then a cow passes you in a perpendicular direction. I have made a solemn oath that for the sake of my future wife and future children that I will NEVER drive in that country. I don't want to live forever, but I don't want to die fast either.

All this is not enough to summarize the whole of India, so I will continue, now I have more pressing things to attend to. It starts with a P and ends with a 3...