I’ve been looking through hundreds of old photographs recently and I’ve come across some really funny and interesting ones. I came away with a few insights, opinions and plain old facts from looking at times I have no memory of:
It seems I was a big fan of fancy dress parties which I suppose for some childhood trauma reason explains my utter dislike for them now. I went as Spiderman and Superman (for which mother and father dearest got suits specifically made for me), a pirate and a vampire. By my judgment, I think I look awesomely cute (and thin) as Spiderman and Superman. As a pirate, I was just beginning to look like a fat, annoying ten year old kid and as a vampire I was a fat, annoying 12 year old with toothpaste smeared all over my face and with fake fangs lodged into my mouth. I also had lipstick all over my mouth. This does not bring back good memories because I thought I looked awesome but my cousin who was dressed as an air stewardess (of course she was authentically marked with a tray of toffees) got short listed and I didn’t. Thankfully she didn’t win.
The Mirpuri household was no stranger to parties of any kind. All the kids got elaborate celebrations for their birthdays. They were characterized by lots of yummy food (think fish cutlets, marshmallows, cute sandwiches, fabulous Indian sweets, ribbon cake!!!!!!!), lots of kids we liked and disliked (but liked mostly because they came bearing presents) and lots and lots of adults trying to hone their skills in appearing interested in their kids while totally indulging themselves in gossip (among the aunties) and a little smattering of booze (among uncles). The best part of birthdays- and this I do remember- was when the cake was cut. This was a sacred moment for the Mirpuri’s because just before the birthday celebration, all of us used to get together and cut up crepe paper (in ALL the colours) and spread them out on the fan just above where the cake would be cut. So when the birthday boy/girl cut the cake and blew out the candle, the fan would be turned on and every single person, young, middle-aged and old would delight in the beautiful sensation of seeing a mini New Year’s celebration erupt in a crepe paper blizzard.
Ok wait a minute. Am I romanticizing? I am, I am. Fuck off.
On the subject of birthdays and birthday cakes, I’ve had several that might shock, impress or disgust. Through these photographs I realized that the Strawberry Shortcake Girl birthday cake I always thought was my sister’s was actually mine! What were my parents thinking? Perhaps I really liked her? Dear God. Thankfully it was not a Strawberry Shortcake Girl theme party. On the infinitely more macho side, my 8th was the best birthday ever. It was a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle theme party and around 120 people were invited. Only about 95-100 turned up and you should have seen the bed which was designated the receptacle for all the presents. Pure treasure! The cake was one of the Turtles (if this was MTV’s My Super Sixteen, I would have insisted on having 4 separate turtle cakes but seeing I was only 8, and not on the show, that request would surely have been met with an awkward silence and then a thundering slap). The decorations were all TMNT themed and made by my talented sister. I even had a piñata filled with all manner of sweets, rubber insects (which were the RAGE in 1992) and whistles bought wholesale from the then exciting and non-terrorized Pettah. Other cakes immortalized on fading hard copy photography (and now saved by the glory of the smart fix button) are a toy train and lots of cakes with peaches and/or strawberries on them.
There are two, strangely unembarrassing photographs of me being bathed naked at possibly age 1 or so. You can see everything. I must say, I was a very well endowed baby. Well among babies anyway. Not that I know anything about such standards. Such baths were usually carried out by our dearest granny a.k.a Bigmama a.k.a Bigma in a pink basin (bought from Phoenix where everyone who was anyone bought their plastic buckets from) with a cleaned out coconut shell. Ah the life.
That’s it for now but there are some memories I wish had been captured on camera. I wish there were some photos of me gargling after lunch while still being enthralled by the hindi movie on television, so much so, that instead of spitting into the bowl, I spit on my sister. I also wish there were pictures of my cry-baby face when sister dearest flung a glass of Sprite into my face for not giving her the correct message left by her friend. Oh, and I wish there were pictures of my mum’s reaction when, in a moment of utter brilliance, I unscrew the grills on the windows in the room she has locked me in coz I was being a pain in the arse and sneak out through the balcony into the shrine where she is praying and going…BOO and scaring the bejesus out of her.
I am so fucking glad that, as time goes by, I am left with nothing but good memories.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
of times past
Monday, October 16, 2006
magical thinking?
Sunday night. Whether you are working or as free as a bird (like me), Sunday nights always have their own little touch of melancholy attached to it. I don’t have work to do tomorrow but somehow I’m just filled with a little bit of foreboding about the week ahead. Maybe I’m afraid that my holiday is rushing by too fast. It’s already a week since I’ve been home and it’s scary that soon enough, I will have only one day in Singapore to get my life in gear for a completely new job. Ah well. It’s still 3 weeks away. :)
Recent happenings:
Friend’s birthday celebration. It was quite refreshing to attend a dear friend’s 24th birthday celebration and not be tempted by the 3-4 different types of alcohol making the rounds. This does not mean that I resisted the temptation to drink the said liquids and that it was a victory my conscience was proud of but because the abstinence was caused by extraneous factors such as the said liquids being conspicuous in their absence. However, I had a brilliant time socializing with people I barely knew and bitching and perving about them with people I did know. My friend’s mother had cooked a delicious Sinhalese meal and we stuffed ourselves to the point of not being able to take much of the equally delicious chocolate mousse and strawberry jelly. Many pictures were taken (with people screaming incessantly at me to show my teeth) after which a few of us retired to one of the more happening (!!) places in Colombo (read: Coffee Stop @ Cinnamon Grand) to smoke, drink coffee and eat cake.
Was invited to be seen by my sister’s boyfriend’s family at their house on Sunday evening. I was a bit nervous about this encounter but it turned out perfectly well and I am sure they loved me. Ha ha. My sister always scolds me for looking and being really unfriendly but I think I proved her wrong this time. Again, it was all about the food with both my sister and I being stuffed with chicken kebabs, dhai vada and fried chicken. After making a killing on that we were served with vanilla ice cream with lychees. Simple stuff like this always makes me feel soooo good. How can one choose tiramisu’s and crème brulee’s when there is always the option of eating plain ol’ strawberry or vanilla ice cream with some fruit??
Was gifted a new phone by sister and mother. Early birthday present apparently. Seriously, I don’t deserve them. It’s a beautiful ultra thin Samsung phone and I hope we are going to be really happy together.
Finished The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion. The author constructs and reconstructs her feelings of grief following her husband’s sudden death while her daughter is lying in a coma due to septic shock. She uses the words magical thinking to describe her feelings of insantiy and denial that led her to believe that her husband would come back even after she was told he was dead. B+
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
silent disappearance
...Then I realized something. That last thought had brought no sting with it.....I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded, not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.
I will this to be true. I want to wake up one day in the near future and not feel that life is a chore. I want to not feel that the only the reason I am waking up is because if I don’t, I will go hungry. I want to not feel that my family will be let down because I am trying to pursue a life that cannot be shared with them. But most of all, I just want the pain to pack up and leave, unannounced in the middle of the night.
the motherland
Anyway, being back has been pretty decent, so far. I got a grand welcome from my sister who somehow managed to keep the whole thing a surprise for my mum. Cake, flowers and a welcome home banner, the whole works! I am such a spoilt, ungrateful brat. I really do not deserve a family like this. Grandmother and grand aunt were completely bewildered to see me and kept saying, ‘why in hell did you want to surprise us?’
So far I’ve met up with a few friends (actually all of whom I planned to meet), eaten two Chinese take out dinners, two bona-fide Sindhi meals, had two cups of tea, had two B&H smokes (heaven!), had one mocha classic (resignedly accepted by me when original order of latte classic was messed up) and had one fight each with both mum and sister.
Oh yes, Colombo looks like and feels war torn at night. We cannot park our cars on the sides of roads anymore (even in previously designated parking spaces) because of random claymore bombs being planted in unmanned vehicles and thereby representing a threat to the public. The cops are swarming everywhere. During a short 40 minute drive with a friend, got copped a total of 4 times. The Galle Face Green has been fenced in so that no one can enter (apparently it’s a danger for the army camp situated right opposite Galle Face). Depressing alright but there’s something about Colombo that still refreshes me and I am glad for that.
Apologies for such a harried, what-is-the-point kind of post.
hoping
Anyway, I have been shopping in fits and bursts (parallels!!!!) with a long lost (and now found) friend and retail therapy has been good. I go back in less than 4 days but it seems so far away. Lots of socialization to be done unfortunately (cannot be avoided and I think for my sake, has to be done). My life is full of hope and I’m hoping it’s not all in vain.
