Myopic Vision

Goodbye and Hello

2011-12-31T09:39:00.000Z

To quote Dickens, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…” and as the curtain draws on 2011, I find myself breathing a sigh of relief that a not so pleasant year is finally coming to an end.

It’s been difficult for a variety of reasons. It has been a tough year for us all. But I know that despite it all, I’ve been one of the lucky ones. What I perceive of as being tough personally, pales in comparison to what some others have had to endure.

I’ve been lucky enough to have the luxury of not having a home destroyed, or constantly living in fear of the next “big one” or cleaning up yet another burst of liquefaction. I may not always enjoy work, but I still have a job, a roof above my head and thankfully the ability to put food on the table.

I’ve also had the good fortune to celebrate both New Zealand’s victory at the Rugby World Cup and India’s victory at the Cricket World Cup, two supremely spectacular events that brought a lot of rejoicing.

So really I ought to be celebrating. And I have celebrated, when the time was right.

But for some strange reason, tonight I don’t particularly feel like I can sustain the celebratory mood when so many around me are still enduring moments of uncertainty about their immediate future. It does force one to look within and endure moments of poignant reflection. Either that, or my “Catholic Guilt” is manifesting itself in a very persuasive manner tonight.

But whatever the deterrent, as the tide turns on 2011, I’m not going to celebrate with as much gusto as I usually do. I’m just going to be quietly thankful that I was among the lucky ones. And I’m going to wish and pray that those who have not been as fortunate get a much needed surge of strength to help them move forward into a year that brings with it much needed hope for a better and brighter future.

Good bye 2011. Welcome 2012!

Garden Surprise

2011-06-28T06:57:00.000Z

When I got home from work on Thursday, it was really dark. It's not unusual given that we are somewhere between a delayed Autumn and Winter.

With only a dim street light to guide my movements, I headed towards my front door. As I walked along my driveway, I noticed a very large and abnormally shaped acorn on the grass.

Curious, I bent down to inspect, when to my surprise the acorn moved.

Thankfully I did not touch it, for the rather large abnormal acorn turned out to be a hedgehog.

Great Britannia

2011-04-30T04:35:00.005Z

I'm not really a royalist, but I have the utmost respect for Her Majesty. I think the Queen is a lovely lady who has spent her entire life in service to her country in a quite, dignified and scandal free manner. I'm not quite sure that my affection for her extends to the rest of the royal family. I find myself large unaffected and unexcited by them (though I am warming to cheeky Prince Harry).

However, yesterday, like millions of viewers worldwide I could not help but get caught up in the whole royal wedding fever. It was inescapable, even on the other side of the world. So I found myself watching the blessed event. And it did not disappoint. The pomp, splendor and precision in the timing and organisation of the whole event is to be admired. You've got to admit that no one puts the 'Great' in Britian quite like the British and in particular the House of Windsor.

I suspect for most Britons, it must have been a day to remember, celebrate and be proud of being British. And I must confess that for a few moments, even my cynical heart was warmed and enchanted. And I wished the newlyweds every happiness in the world.

INCREDIBLE INDIA

2011-04-02T23:42:00.011Z

I’m an overseas citizen of Indian origin. And as most Indians will admit there is just one unique obsession that that unites Indians all over the globe

It defines the essence of the Indian national pride. It’s bigger than religion. It is a grand affair of the heart; something that ignites more passion that any other good love story ever has. It is quite simply, the game of cricket.

India is a cricket mad nation and no wonder because, we, are really good at it.

So when the World cup was being played on home turf, supporting the national squad was a given. And for the last month and a half, I have joined the 1 billion plus Indians and waved the flag, sang the National Anthem, stayed up late to watch and cheer the team on. (The games are played through the night in the city that I live in)

And today, in a tough final against Sri Lanka, even as thing were going bad, I bit my nails, I prayed (I stormed heaven), I believed and I willed them on. And they did not disappoint. India won the Cricket World Cup after a gap of 28 years. An amazing achievement, particularly, given that it was against a very competitive Sri Lankan side.

And in the end when the Indian Captain M.S. Dhoni hit those six runs that sealed our victory, I shouted “Jaya Hai”. After all, there is that old saying “Passport Hein Pardesi, Magar Dil Hein Hindustani”. Well done boys.

Once a Fool, Always A Prankster

2011-04-02T22:54:00.004Z

April Fool's day is always a legitimate excuse for the inner mischievous child in me to shine without an ounce of guilt.

Over the years I've played so many pranks and I think I may have even bragged about some of these in previous posts on this blog.

This year, I went a little low key, playing only two pranks which is an unusual thing for me. Maturity must be catching up.

The first victim was a friend Adel, who is a really good photographer. With the help of two other partners in crime we sent her an invitation to be the official photographer at the Royal Wedding. We took the trouble to pinch a picture of the official invite and tweak it a bit (it's amazing what Photoshop can help you achieve). We coupled this with a Royal letter from her Majesty's supposed communications secretary - a Mrs Deborah Bottomworth. It was printed on really good quality thick paper and we took the trouble of making it look like it had been posted from the UK. We slipped in into her mailbox at 8:30pm the previous evening. The end product was so good that we could almost go professional with these pranks.

The second victim was my Manager, whom I love to prank even on days that are not dedicated to Fools. I amended the "ASDFG HJKL" keys in the middle row of his computer keyboard with the letters "APRIL FOOL". My Manager has a wicked sense of humour so thankfully this prank did go down well….and yes, he also made sure that I got pranked in equal measure.

After all it’s only fair that if you are going to dish it out, you ought to be good spirited enough to able to take it as well.

Forever Young

2011-03-02T10:12:00.004Z

It was my Uncle Daz' birthday on Monday. Now at 71 years of age, he's one of the few people I know, actually the only one I really know, who can say that he's still not quite 18.

You see, he was born on the 29th of February, in the leap year of 1940. So his real birthday occurs only once every four years.

Now, I too was born in a leap year, although I best not reveal the year because unlike my uncle, I was not fortunate enough to be born on the 29th of February. And with each passing year, it's not just the age that shows but also the embarrasment that I'm no longer as young or as brave as I hoped I'd remain.

Brrr.....cold mornings

2010-07-17T22:32:00.004Z

I woke up to the sunlight peering through my bedroom window. I looked out, there was thick frost on the grass.

The temperature indoors was a chilly 5 degrees.

I jumped back into the warm comfort of my bed and burrowed under the duvet.

It was Sunday and I took the liberty of being in bed for a bit longer.

A Piece of Cake (Really?)

2010-05-29T22:22:00.006Z

I've never learned to make a cake properly. My mum is really good at it and regulalry produced these amazing cakes when we were growing up. Back then, I was not particularly interested in spending time watching and learning or even going anywhere near the kitchen.

But how times have changed. I have two gorgeous neices and it is because of them really, that I started making birthday cakes. I wouldn't say it's a passion, but I am driven by sheer love to make them birthday cakes that are memorable and tasty.

Over the past few years, I've put myself through a lot of stress (mainly because I had no clue what I was doing) to produce a variety of themed cakes like an animal farm, a fairy toadstool iced with with chocolate and pretty fairies, a ladybug, a strawberry flavoured butterfly etc.

The one thing I have learned from all of this is that practice makes better. I only make 3 cakes a year but I've learned new tricks with each endeavour and my last effort even took me by surprise.

Little Georgia's 4th Birthday cake made earlier this month was a Winnie the Pooh themed cake. I had an idea that would not go away until I executed it. I had to see it through even though as usual I chose to work with an ingredient I had never used before - Gumpaste.

Once again, I found myself clueless but winging it, driven by sheer love. I made the figurines with no other tools than my own two hands. If the proof is in the pudding, then, even at the risk of self-propogation (by the inclusion of a photograph in this post), I think I did kind of ok.

But my greatest success came not from achieving what I believed was difficult to achieve. It came from the joy and delight on my little neice's face when she saw her cake. And that make all the effort so worth it.

"Nessun Dorma'': In England, None Shall Sleep

2010-02-08T09:02:00.002Z

I’m quite partial to a good game of soccer.

And I really began to appreciate and enjoy the sport when I lived in London. It was 2006, the year of the last World Cup and I was surrounded by soccer mad fans at work and all around. You could not help but get caught up in the frenzy of it all.

There are a number of teams I love and will root for (including the All Whites of course), but there is one team, I’ve always had a soft sport in my heart for that is England. Even when they have been the underdog, I’ve cheered them on in the hope that they would triumph.

But there is one thing that truly disappoints me when it comes to English Soccer. And it’s not the sport.

I hate to see, the “S” in Soccer being replaced by Sandal, Slappers, Spin Doctors and Sensationalism all lacing the pockets of people to who really have no place on the playing field of the sport.

WAGS, Ex-WAGS and Wandering Willies and Wise PR Owls seem to have gained more prominence in "Fleet Street" reporting machine than what an actual good game of footie deserves.

I won’t comment on whose right or wrong in the whole John Terry scandal (though admittedly, it would be rude not to think of his wife). But I will say that the only ones benefiting from it all are the PR artillery and Fleet Street brigade who are probably laughing all the way to the bank.

And their good fortune is England’s demise.

Once again it appears like England’s hopes of resurrecting the glory and passion of the 1966 World Cup are fragile - crumbling under the pressure of scandal.

John Terry may have displayed fine form playing for Chelsea against Arsenal in the English Premier League on the weekend, but scandal has sealed his fate. He’s not just wearing the hat of shame now, but the hat of blame. And blamed he will be, particularly if England does badly in the cup.

The real shame of course is that this big distraction is spelling doom. And the first ball hasn’t even been kicked in South Africa.

Happy New Year

2009-12-31T06:21:00.007Z

As someone who will be among the first in the world to ring in the New Year, I thought I'd take this opportunity to post a greeting to you all.
I'm going to borrow the words sent to me by my friend Candida Mulrain.

I wish that love, peace and joy be yours in full measure.
May peace break into your house and may thieves come to steal your debts.
May the pockets of your jeans become a magnet for $100 bills.
May love stick to your face like Vaseline and may laughter assault your lips!
May your clothes smell of success like smoking tires and may happiness slap you across the face and may your tears be that of joy.
May the problems you had, forget your home address!
In simple words... May 2010 be the one best years of your life!!!

Happy New Year TO YOU ALL.

PS: Incidently if you are at all interested in knowing which points on the globe are the first to greet New Year, then the list is as below:

1st - Kiritimati (Kiribati - Christmas Islands)
2nd - Chatham Island (New Zealand)
3rd - Auckland (New Zealand), Suva (Fiji), Nukualofa (Tonga), Wellington (New Zealand), Christchurch (New Zealand), Rawaki (Kiribati - Phoenix Islands)

Summer Washing had me Aghast..Summer Washing Did Not Happen So Fast

2009-12-08T09:00:00.003Z

Summer finally arrived on Saturday December 5 but not without keeping it's arrival a surprise.

The day before (December 4) was dull, windy, extremely wet and freezing. So on Saturday when the sun finally made it's grand appearance I decided to seize the moment and go out to greet the sun, but not before throwing all of my linen into the washing machine.

Sadly they stayed soaking in the machine from 10am to 6:45pm due to a massive power outage in my area.

On the flip side, they were spotless when they finally came out.

Where goes the sun?

2009-12-03T09:42:00.005Z

It's the 3rd of December down under in beautiful Aeotearoa. Officially it is the 3rd day of summer. It should be warm, sunny and promising. Instead we are faced with days that are dull, gloomy, cool, wet and windy. It seems like someone forgot to remind the sun to come out and play.

If this clearly visible sign of global warming, is not a wake up call for immediate action to tackle climate change, then we ought to bid adieu to the simple things we hold dear. Because let's face it we've abused the planet so much that we've almost lost the right to enjoy it.

Timely coincidence for a reluctant patient

2009-07-16T23:42:00.000Z

I'm a reluctant patient. I only ever go to the doctor when I'm in dire need. But recently in an effort to avoid a potential risk to my EAR (I have in the past almost damaged my ear drum with a cold) I took my self over to see the GP.

A quick check of the mildly inflamed ear and a couple of other checks later and I was pointed in the direction of some blood tests. Apparently my heart was racing wildly. This was abnormal because neither George Clooney nor Brad Pitt was in the vicinity.

It turns out that I have an HYPERACTIVE THYROID which is impacting on my heart and causing it to beat a lot faster than normal.

But the good news is that this is a completely manageable condition and I've been put on some thyroid medication and another set of magic pills to help my heat rate slow down. I guess it was a timely coincidence that let me to the doctors.

Now that I'm on my HAPPY PILLS.......I'm behaving loonier than ever. AND MY POOR EAR.......well that's been completely forgotten about.

Service with a Smile..against the odds

2009-05-21T07:18:00.008Z

We had a fire at work in the wee hours of yesterday morning. It was big and the damage was considerably large. Thankfully no one was in the building at the time.

Needless to say it was a huge shock but we all banded together really well. Our emergency contingency plan kicked in and was carried out so seamlessly that even the fire department investigators commented on how impressed they were with us.

I am filled with admiration for the entire team - those who took charge in leading from the start as well as those who worked silently behind the scenes. We just drew strength from each other, worked well as a cohesive unit. We are now almost back to normal, very tired but still smiling and determined to move forward and provide our clients with the best possible service we can render.

Our people are our biggest assest. I suppose that's what makes us as good as we are. We understand, we care and we deliver against all odds.

Goody Goody for Jade

2009-02-22T07:38:00.002Z

I’ve never been a great fan of reality television stars. In fact I find some of these pseudo manufactured celebrities quite annoying. But my views aside, they seem to have ingratiated themselves so deeply into popular culture that they become newsworthy in a truly global sense. You cannot pick up a newspaper or a magazine and not find information on some of these personalities these days.

So it was hardly surprising when Jade Goody made the evening television news here in New Zealand. To ordinary Kiwis, the infamous and sometimes controversial former Big Brother contestant means nothing. But to the British public she seems almost iconic.

Love her or hate her, you have to feel a bit sorry for the girl. The news that she has terminal cancer is sad. The simple fact that a young, single mum with two little boys is dying has got to pull on the heartstrings of anyone with a heart.

My first impression of Jade Goody when I lived in London was that she was pointless, appeared almost irritatingly naive and annoying. But it wasn’t long before I discovered that she is also spirited, entertaining and charming all at the same time. I watched her fame grow with almost a sense of admiration. Someone with no obvious talent in sport, music or acting was still out there making herself a household name. The more I saw of her on the screen, the more amused I was. Controversial as she is, she has this uncanny ability to make you ‘laugh’.

And now in a cruel twist of fate, it appears the joke is on her. It’s also a grim reminder that CANCER does not discriminate. Jade has received a lot of slack for cashing in on her illness and planning to play out her almost certain death in front of television cameras. But really, how can it be fun for someone in pain, someone who is never going to enjoy ‘the money’ that this will bring? So I’m left with the conclusion that she must be doing it to safeguard the future of her two boys. She is not going to be around to raise them or laugh with them. And if this television series is her last chance to secure their future, then I’m certainly not going to cast any stones. Furthermore, if the reports that more women are going to have their cervical smear tests done, as a result of Jade’s illness, are true, then she has managed to not just raise awareness about cancer, but make an impact.

Jade Goody is seriously ill, but far from dead. I’m sure in the next year or however short her time is, she will continue to have a raised profile. And when her day of reckoning comes, she will probably be mourned and missed. But the effect that she has made on people in the five short years of her ‘notoriety’ will certainly play out for a lot longer. And for that “Goody Goody for Jade”

Summer Holiday

2009-01-28T00:52:00.011Z

I'm holidaying with my family in the very lovely picturesque town of Mt. Maunganui. The Mt. situated on Tauranga Harbour’s eastern entrance, is also called Mauao by the Maori.

According to Maori legend,the hill was a pononga [slave] to a mountain called Otanewainuku. The pononga was in love with a hill called Puwhena, but she had already fallen for his captor.

In despair, the nameless hill decided to drown himself and he called upon the fairy people [Patupaiarehe] to assist with his endeavour. The fairies began dragging him toward the sea, however, these nocturnal imps lost track of time, and as they neared the ocean, the rising sun signalled their disappearance.

The nameless one was left in the very place where he still stands, and became known as Mauao, which means “caught by the dawn.”

Today, Mauao still faces day’s first light; as do many who walk his 3.4-km base, which passes by remote beaches and rocky cliffs. Sea lions and whales are often seen in this area and it remains a fantastic standpoint to watch ships head in and out of the Port of Tauranga.

I'm living in a little apartment overlooking the beach and my bedroom window is a vista of the bay and all the boats in it. We were fortunate enough to have a visit from the Dawn Princess yesterday and as she left our shores a whole lot of folk came out to wave her goodbye.

I've been spending the days in a blissful lazy way - lounging and meandering along the beach, swimming, eating (yes lots of that), and enjoying a daily shot of gelato and ice slushies. And much to my mum's horror, I'm getting to be a real darkie. I prefer to call it embracing my brownness.

In short, I'm having an amazingly relaxed, gloriously warm and sunny holiday. What's more I don't have to travel hours in a plane to get here. Mt. Maunganui is only a 3 hour drive and in some way you could say it's not too far past my back yard. And that's why I plan to visit again in the near future.

Kiwi Christmas Postcard

2008-12-22T00:45:00.003Z

T'is the season to be silly. The weather is gloriously sunny.
Sail boats are out in the harbour.
The Pohutukawa trees (also known as the kiwi christmas tree) are in full bloom.
Despite the economic gloom, shopping bags are filled with discounted items.
There is a lot to be greatful for this Christmas.
And on that note, I'm heading to the fridge for a chilled beer and some steak to throw on the Barbie.
Merry Christmas from the land of the long white cloud.

Indecision 08

2008-11-05T08:21:00.003Z

The race for the Whitehouse is finally over. But down under in Aotearoa, the land of the long white cloud, the race for the Beehive is only days away.

Saturday 08 November 2008, is when New Zealand heads to the polls in what is considered to be a financially critical election.

They are calling it “Decision 08”. Sadly, yours truly remains “Undecided 08”.

This is the first ever election where I cannot arrive at a decision on where to place my party vote. Traditionally I’ve always leaned towards Labour, but I find myself (like a number of others) unable to align myself anymore with its policies.

There are 19 political parties contesting the elections. As with most elections, the political mud-slinging between the two major parties – Labour and National have made for interesting and sometimes amusing television and press reports. However, months of this “he says/she says” has also assailed my hearing and completely clouded my ability to make an informed decision on who will best serve my needs.

Labour is making a desperate and very greed attempt at a fourth term in office. The “reds” have been in power for nine years now. Their initial terms were served in more or less a constructive manner. The last couple of years have however, seen some dirty political manoeuvring and poor choices, in terms of policies and political bedfellows – all of which has made it apparent that they have gradually lost sight of the realities of life in New Zealand.

National, largely predicted to emerge victorious, is almost “blue” in the face (no pun intended) with their Labour bashing and preaching of the gospel of change. But nothing they have said or spelled out thus far has provided any indication of what it is that they plan to change and exactly how they are going to go about doing this.

John Key, the leader of the National Party is only slightly more attractive to look at than our current Prime Minister Helen Clarke. But a “pretty boy” is not what this country needs to steer it forward. He often boasts that his background as an investment banker makes him more knowledgeable on financial issues than his opponents. I’d love to believe him, but having worked in an investment bank myself, I’m not entirely convinced of this assertion.

The political canvass is further coloured with other minor parties. Some of these like the Greens, the Maori Party, ACT, and NZ First are better known. They also have enough of a following to enable them to form a possible coalition with either Labour or National if required. Other smaller parties like the Kiwi Party, Aotearoa Legalise Cannabis, Alliance, and Democrats for Social Change, Pacific Party etc. are parties that I know nothing about and therefore they do not warrant my vote.

The most interesting gain in terms of votes will more than likely go to the Maori party who have done a lot of positive work in getting Maori issues to the forefront and really kudos to them for doing so well. But again, as I am not Maori, I do not believe that they are necessarily the best representatives of my needs and issues.

And so I’m stuck in this quagmire called indecision.

It’s a bit like being given a blank canvas and asked to paint it with one strikingly rich colour. There are a few attractive colours on the easel - Red, Blue, Green, Yellow and even Purple. Individually bold and rich they may be, but none in my estimation exemplifies the much required “Rainbow of Hope”. And so I remain “Undecided 08”

A Pampered Existence

2008-10-22T02:29:00.005Z

As a single young woman living alone, you'd think I'd make the time to take better care of myself. In fact you'd probably be forgiven for thinking that I owe it to myself to make an enhanced effort with my appearance. For example, one would think that I have all the time in world to pamper myself with massages, manicures, hairstyles and the works really. But you could not be further from the truth.

I do love the notion of being able to spend time being pampered. But somehow I find neither the time nor the required "spare change" to indulge in such a luxurious routine. I call it a luxury because with the high cost of living, my mortgage and escalating bills, being pampered is not really high on my list of priorities.

Mind you, I don't go around looking like a fat chick in a sack. In fact I make a half decent effort at being presentable, but the truth is I simply cannot afford to get a manicure or be pampered.

So when my brother bought me a two hour massage voucher for my birthday recently, it was as if Christmas and all of the other the holidays came at once. It still took me about a month to book an appointment at the salon. And when I did, the two hours of being massaged by a trained professional left me feeling relaxed, radiant, energised and thoroughly spoiled. In fact you could say it more than made up for the 7 years of not being able to spoil myself.

Now I wonder what my brother has planned for Christmas? Warren, if you are reading this..BIG HINT and MANY MANY THANKS.

It's a bit of a BOILER really.

2008-08-15T01:05:00.006Z

I seem to be having a really bad run of luck lately. Just when I was starting to take pride in home ownership, I get a sharp dose of reality - an unpalatable medicine that I'd be happier not having to swallow. But sadly unforseen things happen and the costs just have to be borne.

I had over the past few weeks begun to take real pride in my house. Making an effort to transition it from being a house to a home. I've put pretty plants all over and begun to adorn the walls with much loved images and I've even been saving for a new garage door as my current door has collapsed on me. All of these were things that I was planning for costs that would be expected. And then it happened....my hot water system developed a leak. I spent an entire night mopping up the place and then had to call in a plumber. The bad news is that I have to replace the entire system. The cost of a new system...a whopping $2,200+ GST. This is not just a dent in the pocket but a gaping hole in my rapdily depleting finances.

Needless to say it's been a bit of shock and an invaluable lesson.

Now all I need to do is win the Lotto and I'll be smiling again.

Mama Mia ..the BOND cannot sing

2008-08-13T04:56:00.006Z

So I went to see Mama Mia with a few of my colleagues the other day. I have to say this is a true chick flick and it did what it was supposed to ....Entertain.

The film was shot in Greece and everything about the location was amazing.
As far as the cast goes Amanda Seyfried, Meryl Streep, Julia Walters and Christine Baranaki were all pretty good. The fact that the cast included the lovely Colin Firth and Pierce Brosnan was one of the reasons why I had waited to see this film. And in the looks department, they did not disappoint.

But dear oh dear when the "BOND" one began to sing... I had COVER my ears and think that "one of us was crying, ...staring at the ceiling.. ..wishing she was somewhere else instead".

To Nana my sweet

2008-04-26T11:50:00.005Z

Ten years ago, on April 13 1998, I lost the single most precious influence of my life - my darling Grandma, Muriel Valladares

For as long as I can remember, my grandma had been my whole world. She was one the one I could laugh with, tell my secrets too and just be myself. She was very nuturing and loved me unconditionally.

I could write a book about all the reasons why I loved her...but even that won't adequately express all that I feel for her. And so for the sake of this post, all I'll say is that I still think of her eveyday and I miss her. I hope that wherever she is, she is happy.

I can only sum up what I feel by borrowing the words of EE Cummings

I carry your heart with me
(I carry it in my heart)
I am never without it
(anywhere I go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
I fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)
I want no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

I carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

A Wind-Up (or two) at Work

2008-04-01T09:30:00.000Z

I’m very childish and a big prankster. So when “April Fool’s Day “rolls around, I find it to be the perfect excuse to go all loony and play as many jokes on people as I can. I must confess that this skill is an inherited one. You see I lived through years of my mum narrating all the shenanigans she pulled at work. And so, in some ways I am a product of my mother’s rearing.

This year, I decided that it was about time to cause a bit of mischief at work. Of course I take my job seriously and had to ensure that I did not offend anyone. The thing with office pranks is that they have got to be done in a non-threatening inoffensive manner. A minor error could be serious and the joke could be misconstrued as being offensive and in poor taste.

Having thought it through carefully, I chose my victims accordingly. My day began by swapping my poor unsuspecting boss’ cabinet with my own. I don’t think he was all that amused (as he was having a bad enough day) but he’s a tolerant sort of man (thankfully).

My next trick was telling one of the Group Leaders that he had a phone message from a “Mr Lyons”. I provided a number to go with the name. Well, thinking it was a new business opportunity, he dialled the number promptly, and much to his surprise (and my amusement) the number I provided was the automated number for the local zoo. Fortunately yet again he was such a good sport about it. And I rewarded him with a chocolate.

Of course, if you are planning on playing tricks. You need to be a good sport and prepared to have one played on you. And I did. My IT Manager came to review a problem I was having with an application. Apart from fixing it, he left me with a 180 degree rotated view of my desktop items. So my start menu was on the top right hand corner and upside down as were all other icons on my desktop, making it impossible to read.

I’d say it’s the perfect way to celebrate a day to amuse and be amused.

New Beginnings and Promises

2008-01-08T02:05:00.000Z

It's a NEW YEAR - a new beginning a time when we examine our lives and try put things into perspective. So we forward plan, set goals, make commitments and pledges. Although made with the best of intentions, some of these vows are met and others are merely created to be broken. But irrespective, we continue to follow in this glorious tradition of making New Year's Resolutions.

So what are my plans for the year?

I've hitched yet another ride on the weight loss wagon. I'm back at the gym and I hope that I find the resolve to go there regularly. But more importantly, I just hope that the year ahead brings me good health, joy, blessings and peace. That's really all I can wish for - both for myself and the rest of you who read this.

Neighbours...Everybody needs good neighbours

2007-11-11T05:52:00.000Z

If you've watched the soap "Neighbours", then you will be familiar with the theme song below:

Neighbours, Everybody needs good neighbours
With a little understanding
You can find the perfect blend
Neighbours...should be there for one another
That's when good neighbours become good friends
Ooh Neighbours, should be there for one another
That's when good neighbours become good friends.

Growing up in India, I knew everyone in my locale. But that was just the way it was in India.

Then I moved overseas, and discovered that not everything was quite the way the song went. Neighbours came and left before you even had a chance to say hello. Mind you, I moved a few times, so I did not really get a chance to acquaint myself with any of them. That is, until I met Bill and Linda (surname withheld for privacy, although I can hear Linda bellow in my ear "Privacy, what's that?").

Bill is Scottish (still has a bit of the accent) and Linda is Kiwi. They've been married for ever and you only need to know them to realise how much love they have in their hearts. Bill and Linda, looked after me at a time when I really did not know a lot of people. They were the perfect neighbours and had a key to almost every house in the neighbourhood. Yes, they were friendly without being imposing, they were extremely trustworthy. We had plenty of conversations over hot cuppas. The bikkies and the food were a plenty as were the laughter and the hugs. They even helped me with my packing when I had to leave. I'll never forget that in that last week, they had a hot meal ready for me each night as I got home from work. They were the best neighbours I've ever had and they remain good friends. And I really do miss them.

I recenty had occassion to be in their neck of the woods after almost two and a half years away. I got just 20 minutes with them as I had to rush back to the airport. But there waiting for me was a huge and very delicious ham, cheese and tomato sandwich and a hot cuppa. Just like the old times. We caught up on our news and lives and it was time to leave. Our 20 minutes was so brief, but sometimes brevity speaks volumes.

As I got up to leave, in between the hugs and kisses, I was alerted to something sitting on top of their display cabinet. It was a large picture of me, taken in Edinburgh, dressed in a traditional Scottish kilt. It was proudly displayed among pictures of their children. In that moment, I felt not just loved, but deeply moved.

I've heard people refer to good neighbours, as being living angels -very rare to find, but when we do, they touch our lives in beautiful ways. If that belief is true then I can say that I know I've been blessed to have met two of my personal rare and beautiful angels. And what's more, is that I feel richer for it.

I went shopping and I bought a.....

2007-10-20T05:44:00.001Z

I went shopping......and I bought ...A HOUSE (Well it's mine and the bank's).

Now comes all the fun part (read RESPONSIBILITY) of paying off the mortgage and the bills and the council fees. But I'm so looking forward to it all.

I've finally got my own private space in the world and I can't wait to move in.

IT's NOT JUST A GAME

2007-09-24T05:49:00.000Z

As an Indian, I could not be prouder of my country's cricket team than to know that we have secured a place in the inaugural twenty 20 World Cup. The fact that we meet our arch rivals Pakistan in the finals is even more of a thrill. I don't think India and Pakistan have ever met in a World Cup Final before, so this match has a lot riding on it for a variety of reasons.

It is being referred to as the most exhilarating moment in cricket for a very long time. For both India and Pakistan it is an opportunity to exorcise the ghosts of the 2007 World Cup. According to media reports, the bookies are extremely busy and the broadcasters are speculating on viewership figures. The fans are no doubt in a state of nervous anticipation and I’m sure even the most impassive viewers will find themselves compelled to comment. As for the poor players, the pressure must definitely be on. This is not just about a game anymore; it is much more than it. It is a war of sorts. The hopes and aspirations of millions (a billion plus in India’s case) are resting on their shoulders. The pride of nations is at stake.

Cricket is a religion in India. It surpasses anything else that may seem significant and it is the one thing that unites the diverse nation. Growing up in Mumbai, I have fond memories of watching cricket matches with my family. There was nothing better than watching an India Pakistan match. Bombay (or Mumbai as it is now known) is normally a busy city with its teaming millions, traffic congested roads (not to forget the blaring horns from cars and rickshaws). Yet if you visit it during an India Pakistan match, you will think, mistakenly so, that you are in a ghost town. For there is not a soul on the streets and the silence is eerie – that is until a Pakistani wicket has fallen or a big run has been scored by the Indian batsmen. All of a sudden there is a tremendous outpouring of jubilant celebration – complete with screams of joy, firecrackers, drums and dancing in the streets.

I will be thinking of all of this tonight as I try and get a glimpse of the match. But more than that, I will be thinking of Mahendra Singh Dhoni and the rest of the Indian team. And I hope with all my heart that they will emerge victorious.

Of DoctERRS and MediSIN

2007-08-27T05:20:00.000Z

One of the things that I genuinely miss about India is the ready availability and good quality of health care services in the country. While this may meet with raised eyebrows, those like myself who have lived (and still live) in India will know the extent of the truth I speak. There are so many doctors in India and many of them are really good.

Sadly NZ like some other developed nations is badly lacking in this area. There is a shortage of doctors and healthcare here is really expensive. A reason why I hate being ill and I don't frequent the doctors.

Three weeks ago I developed a sore throat which got progressively worse and very painful. So after a week of suffering, I decided to try and be sensible about it and visit my GP. The visit was brief, the examination even swifter and she diagnosed me with a throat and chest congestion. I was put on a course of antibiotics and sent on my merry (well not so merry) way. The cost of this visit including the medication was $85.

A couple of hours after this visit, I developed a ear ache and for the first time felt that my ears were blocked. By 7 pm that evening, the pain was excruciating and I was sobbing. My brother kindly took me to an after hours medical centre. The doctor there told me that he was surprised that my GP failed to check my ears during her examination, because my ear was so badly infected that my ear drum was about to burst. So I was immediately put on some strong painkillers and asked to continue with the course of antibiotics prescribed earlier in the day by my GP. The cost of this visit including the medication was $105.

Five days and some drugs later, there was very little improvement in my condition. So back I went to the doctor. My course of antibiotics was extended. I was granted a reduced fee. So the cost of this visit including the medication was $70.

It's now almost a week into this last visit. I'm still on the antibiotics and have improved a bit which is optimistic. The cost of this cold virus has set me back $260 so far (I don't qualify for a community services card) and I anticipate I'll have to go yet again to my GP in a week's time.

Moral of the story: The only thing I've learnt is what I knew before. Being sick is a really expensive affair!

Mark and Lady X, Y or Z

2007-08-05T06:13:00.000Z

Somewhere between moving countries, getting a job and my life sorted, I lost touch with the family news doing the rounds. When I finally read my emails there was a flurry of excitement and even a blog entry on my cousin Mark.

Mark who is in his early forties, still good looking and quite charming in his own way has a new girlfriend. While he hasn't exactly made any announcement about this latest development in his life, the family grapevine has ensured that the news has been suitably spread via email and of course a blog entry.

Mark is the eldest of my cousins and was the first in our generation to get married. 12 years of marriage and an expensive divorce later, it seemed like he would not be in a hurry to get back into the dating scene. We all love Mark dearly and this happy news has naturally caused a fair dose of delight. I don't know what his ladyfriend is called, but I hear that she seems nice and makes him happy and that's really all that counts. I think Mark is incredibly brave and he deserves every bit of happiness that comes his way.

As for guarding his privacy, he should know by now that there's no such thing as privacy when you are part of the family.

The Light's turned Green

2007-07-22T03:15:00.000Z

I'm going GREEN...not with envy, but I seemed to have suddenly developed a conciousness about the environment and sustainabililty.

I recently started work at a well established Engineering and Environmental services firm. While I had heard about them being sustainable and eco friendly, I genuinely believed that it was nothing more than a PR stunt. But much to my pleasent surprise, sustainability is a practice that is deeply engrained in the work ethos here. Everything is recycled, there are worm bins in the kitchen and even a worm house on the deck where the worms are regularly fed kitchen waste. All printing is double sided, eco friendly stationery and other utility products are purchased and even our clients and suppliers are selected accordingly or educated in the fine art of being green.

So two minutes into the job (I've not even been there a month) and I'm already starting to make subtle changes to how I do things. I use the car only to go grocery shopping and I no longer accept carry bags from the supermarket. I seem to be going out of my way to ensure that I carry my own bags or just put everything into the boot of the car (PAk n Save style).

I should have adopted all these good practices years ago when I was being taught about sustainability in Prof. Eddie's Anthropology class. But like most of his students, I slept through the lecture.

I can't help thinking that if small offices and mid to large corporations took sustainability seriously, and incorporated it into their daily business, they would find so much benefit in the whole exercise, not to mention the substantial savings in their overheads. (I remember with shame how much paper was wasted in the investment bank I worked for in London.)

Sustainability and eco friendly practices are not difficult. They require a little effort which can easily develop into a natural habit. It's not rocket science after all, but simply common sense.

Like a Rolling Stone

2007-06-30T00:04:00.000Z

I was reading an article the other day about the Rolling Stones. I haven't been able to get their frontman Mick Jagger out of my mind. In fact, I can't stop thinking about him.

Now don't get me wrong, I don't fancy the pants off the man. In fact, I find him and his big lips physically replusive. But, even I have to admit, that Mick Jagger has a certain something going for him. At 64, he still plays to packed stadiums, he still has a bevy of leggie beauties that surround him (it's got a be a bit more than viagra), he has earned more money than I can ever dream of and he still has plenty of allure and a youthful exuberance for life.

He may not seem like the ideal role model, but he serves as a good benchmark of aspiration. And so, I think I want to be a bit like him - an eternal optimist, a go-getter and I tell you if at 30 I have half the charisma and energy that Mick Jagger has at 64, I'll get plenty of SATISFACTION.

The Write Stuff

2007-06-26T02:20:00.000Z

I'm spending the afternoon with Dr. John Reynolds or Gorah Sahib as he likes to be called. Dr. JR was a former manager of mine a few years ago and we've stayed in touch ever since.

He has recently written his first novel entitled UNCOMMON ENEMY which is a political thriller set in wartime New Zealand - with a unique historical twist. It has action, adventure, betrayal and a love story. He has received a number of positive reviews and was recently interviewed by Kim Hill on her radio show.

To find out more about him please visit his website http://www.drjohnreynolds.com

I've also encouraged him to start blogging and hopefully aspiring young writers will gain a few insights into the creative writing process from him.
His blog is http://drjohnreynolds.blogspot.com

Vanity Fair

2007-05-27T00:20:00.001Z

I was at a first Holy Communion party yesterday. It was a fun party, the music was good, the hosts were gracious, the food was superb and the guests seem to be enjoying themselves. Yet despite the company and the social niceties around me, I found myself bored silly. And I came to the horrifying conclusion, that somewhere, over the course of the last few years; I have turned into a social snob.

I don’t consider myself to be anything special, nor do I for a moment imagine that I am better than anyone. In fact, I’ll gladly attest to the fact that there are scores of Indians whom I’ve met that are far more talented, skilled, educated, socially and financially better off than I. So just what is my problem? Why, I ask myself, can I comfortably make friends with a Swedish girl in Edinburgh, but find myself so prickly in social gathering of Indians – people of my own community.

I am not ashamed of my Indian ness. Both my parents and my best friend still live in India. And I’ve had the good fortune of retaining some good associations with the Indians who still live in the motherland. Yet, my experiences with the Indian communities overseas particularly in Auckland have not been impressionable in the best of senses.

I’ve found the relationships that are fostered within the Indian community here; tend to be based on a mutual sense of utility – a need to use each other to get ahead. Solidarity is perceived but fragile, as competitiveness and the need to demonstrate financial well-being through outlandish displays of wealth, take precedence. Little groups or cliques are formed as people with common goals hover together. Gossip is usually rife in the community as is small town mentality. It’s awful that these despicable patterns of behaviour seem to be the socially acceptable norms. But that, I guess is a by-product of immigration and I’m sure this happens in other ethnic communities.

I’ve never been good at pretending to like people or exchange social pleasantries just for the sake of doing so. Mind you I don’t go around deliberately being nasty, but I just can’t muster up the energy to be nice when I don’t mean it. I’ve been at the receiving end of some of this dreadful conduct and there was a time, when I too ashamedly indulged in some of it. But I’ve changed a great deal – both in my thinking and in my behaviour.

I find that I no longer desire to be surrounded by people of my own upbringing to feel adequate. I also find that I increasingly enjoy the company of my family. I’d rather spend time just with them that flit around town. And I’m just at ease with spending time on my own.

I love meeting people who are different, people who have a bit more of a world experience than me. I find that conversation with them is often intellectually stimulating and enjoyable. But I’m perfectly comfortable in the knowledge that most of the people whose company I now enjoy, will really only remain acquaintances. And I’m fine with that. And just once in a while, one will come along who will turn out be a really good friend and that is a bonus.

A good case in point would be my friend Frendehl. She’s not Indian, but I thoroughly enjoy her company. We first met in Auckland about 5 years ago and developed a friendship that has lasted. We recently met up in Brussels and had a great time. We live in different cities, but we chat on the phone occasionally and it’s great. We have a friendship that is not based on a mutual need to feed on each other, to be seen together or to gossip. We, quite simply are just friends, that is a good thing and above all it’s not pretentious.

So is it a sign of old lady syndrome or just pain conceited vanity that keeps me away from fellow Indians? I’m not sure. Perhaps it is a combination of both. But if it is a choice between superficial social popularity and self- imposed social ostracism, I’ll gladly choose the latter. Because the truth is the former requires a skill set that I’m not equipped to cultivate or perfect – a thick skin, quite wittedness, shrewdness, fictitious affability. Frankly, it all sounds so terribly exhausting that I just can’t be bothered. So I’ll continue to be my narcissistic self. At least that, I know is sincere. And what's more is that I can live with it.

Sunny Side Up

2007-05-20T22:39:00.000Z

Today seems to be yet another remarkably glorious day. It's warm, sunny just like the past couple of weeks have been. The garden is a riot of colour, the roses are in full bloom, as are the spring bulbs. You could say, the weather has been perfect.

The only problem is, it's the middle of May. Technically it's the end of Autumn here in the southern hemisphere and the weather should be dully, grey, wet and miserable. But strangely it isn't. It feels more like spring.

Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for the warm weather, but I can't help wondering if the weather ladies have got their wires crossed or realistically if this is yet another tell tale sign of global warming. Global warming is being discussed all over the world. Perhaps it is time to take stock and pay closer attention to what needs to be done to minimise it's effects. Because the truth is, the future consequences of these strange weather patterns will be devastating and surely that is cause for concern and immediate action.

Lest we forget

2007-04-25T22:12:00.000Z

"They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old:Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.At the going down of the sun, and in the morning We will remember them. Lest we forget."

For New Zealanders and Australians around the world, today was a solemn day of remembrance. Anzac day commemorates the first landing of their troops at Anzac cove in Gallipoli on the 25th of April 1915.

And ever year on this day, scores of Kiwis come together at war memorials across the country to remember the sacrifices made by previous generations of war veterans and especially those who lost their lives on the battlefields abroad.

I attended my local Anzac day parade and it was a very poignant ceremony. Attendances at these services including the dawn services seem to have had record highs. This year, at Gallipoli around 18,000 people are estimated to have attended the dawn service. Anzac day is the one day, that is of perhaps the greatest significance for New Zealanders and 92 years on, it’s heartening to see them keep the tradition alive.

At the risk of sounding over dramatic, you have to applaud the sacrifices made by the people of this country. Over 100,000 NZ troops served in the First World War – that is 1/10th of it’s total population. In terms of density of the population, New Zealand suffered the most casualties of any other nation in the World Wars. So, this is a very personal and significant event for Kiwis as almost everyone has a grandfather or great grandfather who served in the Wars.

Growing up in India, I can’t recall any special day that honours the bravery of Indian soldiers who have fought many a war. My high school history books made a few references to the World Wars but somehow it always seemed like something that happened in Europe and there was little emphasis placed on the actual impact that the war had on India. By the time of the Second World War, India was on the threshold of Independence from Britain and so history seems to have made heroes of the politicians and social leaders who spearheaded Indian Independence and who shaped the nation. The fallen war heroes were only even mentioned in casual passing. At least that’s the way I remember it.

Anzac day meant virtually nothing to me, till I came to live in New Zealand. I attended Anzac services out of a sense of social consciousness and empathy for the country I had adopted as my new home. That is until I visited the Scottish War Memorial in Edinburgh last year. One of the record books there contained names of soldiers who fought and died in Gallipoli. And I began to read the names I discovered that many Indian soldiers too fought and died along side the Kiwi and Australian forces in Gallipoli. Of course, it was not a surprising discovery, as I knew that Indian soldiers fought in the Wars. But somehow, reading those names, just brought home the simple fact, that men from different parts of the world, speaking different languages, were called upon to fight side by side and sacrifice themselves in the pursuit of the freedom we now enjoy. And suddenly, Anzac day implied a new, very personal significance for me.

So now, I chose to remember to pay my tributes, to express my gratitude...lest I forget.

Colour Me Bad! (really bad)

2007-04-01T22:16:00.000Z

A few weekends ago, somewhere between sheer boredom and a burning desire for some kind of creative expression, I decided that I was going to do a bit of painting. Until quite recently, art has only ever marginally interested me. But my recent trips to Paris and Amsterdam got me really excited about art, particularly, after spending hours examining and appreciating works of artists like Rembrandt, Van Gogh, and William Hogart among others.

And so, in a blinding flash of inspiration, I decided that I would try my hand at painting. I had an image of what I wanted to do and I was feeling fairly confident that I could transfer this onto canvas. So off I went to get my supplies – paint, easel, canvas etc and I began to paint my “masterpiece”.

An hour and a half later, it became abundantly clear to me (and those around me), that I was never going to be the next Picasso. What was meant to be an image of mother and child, turned out looking more like a giant acqua-green kidney bean spread across a deep purple background. As you can imagine, any illusions that I had harboured about my artistic ability were quickly dissipated. I discovered that not only did I lack total knowledge and vision but I had no clue about colour coordination, brush strokes or technique. And so, feeling a little dejected I decided it was time to put an end to the nonsense.

The issue that now plagues me is what to do with the painting? Do I throw it in the trash? Do I hang it up as a reminder of my moment of inspired stupidity – a time when impulsiveness forced sanity into taking a vacation? Do I hang it up, reminding myself that despite the failure; the important thing is that I tried? I’m really not sure. It seems like the jury is still out on that one.

Wanted: Single, Handsome, NRI for suitable fair-skinned, well-educated girl.

2007-01-28T13:07:00.000Z

"It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife." (Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen 1813)

It is also a truth acknowledged in India, that a single man with an NRI tag to his name (Non Resident Indian), must be, by mere virtue of the fact that he lives abroad, not just wealthy but a person of sound moral and religious character. And so scores of Indian newpapers run daily matrimonal columns where people advertise a preference for NRI girls or boys based on this rather erroneous assumption that "a life abroad must be easier".

While it is hardly unusual in India, to find a matrimonial match through the daily newspapers, there definately seems to be a trend among a lot of young women in urban India, to find themselves the perfect NRI, to settle down with and live a life of "comfort" overseas. Sadly, while most of these marriages are made in heaven, there is a staggeringly high proportion of them that are actually lived in hell.

So bad have been some of the instances, that the Indian Goverment is contemplating offering legal assistance to Indian women stuck in abusive marriages overseas. The DNA newspaper (Data News Analysis) recently ran a story asking young women of their opinion on NRI marriages.

http://www.dnaindia.com/report.asp?NewsID=1073601

While there were a several women who appeared to undertake a more cautious and sensible approach, there were a couple who seemed shocking naive about the realities of living overseas.

I've held many a conversation with young women in Mumbai recently, about this whole NRI marriage issue. The responses and views I received indicated that while criteria like religion, education, skin tone and caste were important factors in deciding on a suitable NRI match, the overriding popular determinant seemed to be economic. There is shamefully, a perceived conception, that that a life with an NRI, is an easier life. NRIs because they earn in dollars or pounds must be wealthy and therefore a marrying a weathly man improves ones social standing and thereby allows one to live a "comfortable and relaxed" life.

All, of the women I spoke to, fall under the demographic of well-educated, upper middle class, urban women. Even in conversations with some of my unmarried school friends, a number of them confided that they will not marry anyone else, but an NRI.

As hard as I try, I fail to understand why an NRI label has suddenly gained so much credence when it comes to arranged marriages. I can only put this trend, down to the overglorification of life overseas as portrayed in films, and by some NRIs who like nothing better than to "show off" their supposed wealth to people in India, and the complete lack of information available to young women and their families about the actualities of living overseas.

There is certainly nothing wrong with wanting to improve ones prospects, but when these aspirations are inflated, clouded with poor judgement, borne out of a pseudo narrative about reality, then it becomes a problem. Tradition Indian arrangements relied on knowledge about the suitor and his family from a reliable source, usually a common family friend or a neighbour or a relative. The danger with overseas proposals is that there is hardly any information that can be gathered about a prospective spouse.

As an Indian living overseas, I can tell you that the streets of New York, LA, London, Sydney, Auckland etc may be cleaner and greener than Mumbai, but they are certainly not paved with gold and life is no bed of roses. The perception that life overseas is easier and relaxed is a bit far-fetched.

The reality is that life is far from "relaxed" and "comforts" are earned through sheer hard work.
Most of us work really long hours, get back home and have to fend for ourselves. Maids, are luxuries we take for granted in India. However, overseas, there are no merry maids to fetch and pick up after us. That image only exists in the reel life not the the real one, unless of course you are lucky enough to marry a Mittal, an Ambani or a major Hollywood star. If not, then like the rest of us, you learn pretty quickly the art of cleaning you own toilet, a chore that unfortunately doesn't do itself. And God help you if your husband has a poor bathroom etiquette.

Lack of a maid, means that hot, tasty, home cooked meals only produce themselves if we actually bother to cook them each night. Frozen pizza and ready microwave meals become tasteless after a while and take-aways can put a substantial dent in the pocket if you order out each night.

We are forever rushing after time, to catch up with time, to make time. Socialising usually happens among our work colleagues. Furthermore, unlike India, not all neighbours want to, or even have time to socialise. And, with people on the move all the time, you would be really lucky if you know who your neighbours are.

For a stay at home wife or a women accustomed to living in India, where you know your neighbours and your friends are always around, acclimatising to the lonliness is not always easy and can be increasingly depressing. Futhermore, if unfortunately, a young bride finds herself in the midsts of a martial nightmare and facing abuse, not having a friends or family around further isolates her.

The move proposed by the Indian Government to offer legal advise to women overseas is certainly a welcome move, but more needs to be done so that women have an increased awareness. The eyes of greed that focus only on the glittering greenbucks need to be shut and cognizable images of life overseas need to be portrayed, so that young women can be prepared and make informed decisions about the futures that they are embarking upon.

And then after that,
"Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance." (Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen, 1813)

Wedding Bells are Ringing on a Dusty Road to Love

2007-01-09T13:18:00.000Z

As my plane made its slow descent into the Dabolim Airport at Goa; I knew that the next few days, would be a essay; with paragraphs of excitement and joyous celebration puncuated, with moments of chaos, nervous discomposure and a few conflagrant tempers.

I was here from London, in this relaxed part of the world for just a few days. There was a singluar purpose to my trip and that was my cousin Clyne's wedding.

I am the product of the age old tradition of the joint family system in India. So, having lived a large portion of my life with my cousins, meant that there would be no pardoning of any absence on my part, for an occassion as grand and important as a family wedding. Family ties are very important in India, a fact that was clearly endorsed by the global representation of our family at the wedding in Goa. But, I was not here, merely out of a sense of duty or tradition; I was here, because Clyne (the bridegroom) and I are especially close, and so I wanted to be a part of his big day.

There were a series of pre-wedding events and I got to meet the bride Nisha's family. They were all, as animated as the rest of us , which made working together quite an easy undertaking.
The nuptials, were held in a quaint chapel on a hill in South Goa, and the reception at the Cidade de Goa in Dona Paula. As both Clyne and Nisha and the rest of our families (me being the exception) are all musically gifted, this wedding had just that extra special personal touch.

The choir was splendid, the band at the reception were impressive and there was songs galore being sung by family and friends. I met up with a few of my friends who I had not seen in ages. I normally find family weddings a bit of a onerous endeavor, but this one was just so enjoyable that it was more like a rather large family gathering and a very happy one at that.

The newlyweds are on their honeymoon, and the rest of us, are slowly returning back to the rest of our not so exciting lives.

To Clyne and Nisha if you are reading this:

I wish you JOY and LAUGHTER
The LOVE of TREASURED FRIENDS
and most importantly
I wish you PEACE when each day ends.

God Bless You and May you have a long and happy married life.

Festive Musings

2006-12-27T14:46:00.000Z

To My Family, Friends and More:

I’ve been scouring the recesses of my brain to find some profound meaningful morsels of Christmas reflection. But the truth really is, that everything I came up with had been overdone. It seemed like an aimless undertaking.

So all I’m going to do is WISH YOU ALL A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS. May the Festive Season Fill Your Hearts with Love, Laughter and that Warm Fuzzy Christmas Feeling. And I Hope the NEW YEAR is Rich in Blessings

Have a great holiday season. God Bless You All.

Warm Waffles, Hot Chocolate And A Reunion In The Rain.

2006-12-09T22:59:00.000Z

I'm in Brussels this cold Saturday evening for a very special reunion with one of my dearest Kiwi friends Frennie. We first met at a bus stop in Birkdale and realised that we lived in the same apartment block. We've remained friends ever since despite us both having left Auckland quite a few years ago.

Fren is here on a research scholarship for her PHD. She lives permanently in Christchurch which is quite a long way from me in London. So when I knew she was going to be in Brussels; it seemed like the perfect place to meet up again. In fact, when we finally came face to face after almost 4 years last evening it was great to see my dear friend.

We strolled along the wonderfuly lit Grand Place; where the evening market stalls were still in operation, despite the rain. It was all very festive and colourful as expected given the time of the year. We treated ourselves to warm waffles in the rain and went to a cafe for dinner where we chatted and reminisced. I sampled some fine Bellevue Kreik beer here and despite the wet and cold weather; it really was a wonderful evening

I've spent this morning roaming the streets like Rue de Neuve where fashion is the name of the game and you really are spoiled for choice. The christmas market stalls are everywhere and the Belgium chocolates, the waffles, the lace, not to mention the famous monuments are all worth the view. I had a photo moment with a Van Gogh poser. I then discovered Mannekenpis by accident - quite amusing. Mannekenpis is the little statue of the boy who wees; some days I'm told the wee is not always water but actual fine quality Belgian beer. The Belgians obviously have a sense of humour.

In the evening, Fren took me to the European quarter which houses the European Comission, the European Council and the European Parliament. It is a quieter part of Brussels and there are a few nice restaraunts here. We went to Maison Antoine, which is renowned for having the most amazing chips, a fact I'll happily verify; particularly after sampling them. The chips are double fried, crunchy on the outside and yet soft in the centre and they offer a variety of sauces to go with it. A lot of walking to burn off the calories followed. A while later, we had a good meal and some Leffe Beer at a local restaurant and then dessert and hot chocolate at Frennies. No doubt the calorie counting failed miserably today but it isn't every day I get to be in Brussels.

It is often said that, "Friends are gifts that our heart treasures". I definately count this gift among the finer treasures that I have. And that makes this reunion so much more special.

Tulips, Cheese and more

2006-11-27T18:37:00.000Z

One of the great advantages of living in London is the easy accessibility to the rest of Europe. This works a charm when you feel the need to disappear over the weekend for quick city breaks. It's one of the things I've been doing a lot of in the last few months with trips to various places.

I spent this past weekend in one of the most colourful, diverse and charming cities in Europe - Amsterdam. With its tree-lined canals, art filled Museums and lively social scene this is perhaps one of the best cities to visit. The fact that you can get around either on a boat, a tram or do what most Dutch do - a gentle bit of peddling makes this a fun place. And of course, unlike the rude locals of other places, the Dutch are a friendly bunch.

Museum square is amazing with its famous museums like- the Rijksmuseum, the Van Gogh Museum and the Stedelijk Museum. The Rijksmuseum was celebrating the 400th Anniversary of Rembrandt and there were some amazing works on display. I also found myself in front of Anne Franks house (truth is I was lost wandering along one of the main canals and got lucky). This house is really worth the view. Very moving stuff indeed. Then of course, there is the diamond factories and the red light area. The red light area is interesting. I went on a candlelight tour around this area. The guides were really good and we dropped by the prostitution information centre, which is run by former prostitutes. The system is complex and their view is that legalising prostitution means that sex workers now work under their own terms and conditions for the majority. Along the way we were also shown the various "coffee houses" which serve up some nice "space cake". I have to say that all of these areas were really safe areas and not quite like the sleazy images one conjures of a red light district.

There is a lot more to the Netherlands than just Amsterdam and of course the tulips. And so I hopped on a bus to try and imbibe a bit more of the unique Dutch flavour. I saw a lot of the rectilinear landscape of polders (reclaimed land) with its characteristic locks, dikes, windmills, farms and cows on my way to the Zaanse Schans. This is a well known windmill village with some rather interesting windmills. Here, I met a guy who makes traditional Dutch clogs. A demonstration promptly followed and I was amazed at how skilfully they are done (even if aided by machinery).

I rode on the coast along the former Zuiderzee to see the famous Volendam and Marken. Volendam is a fishing village and very much in the picture postcard sense. Also, the houses here are wooden and colourful and its just so lively. I suspect the people do well from all the tourists stopping by. I also stopped by a few cheese farms. The cheese here is made in the traditional way and it's quite interesting to watch and sample. All very nice of course.

Sadly, like most good things, my time there came to an end far too quickly. I'm back in London chained to my desk…that is until the next weekend when I'm off to Brussels

"IF I DID IT.." - Why bother with 'IFs' OJ?

2006-11-16T18:51:00.000Z

They were brutally murdered some 12 years ago. Yet Nicole Simpson and Roland Goldman were hardly just another statistic on the murder records. This was BIG NEWS not just in America but in the rest of the world. The sheer goriness of the crime, the memory of American sports star OJ Simpson being pursued by the police, and the “trial of the century” that followed is hardly something that people are likely to forget about.

So it strikes me as nauseating, insensitive and in shockingly poor taste that OJ Simpson has written a book and is going to appear on the FOX TV two-hour special called “ If I Did It, Here’s How It Happened” to discuss the murders in a hypothetical sense.

I can’t help but ask the blaringly obvious –

• How sick does someone have to be to try and make a profit of a tragedy?
Very Sick it seems. The truth is I don’t even think I’m shocked by OJ Simpson’s audacity to write his book or participate is in this twisted show. It’s common knowledge that he appeared in a DVD called Juiced in which he makes frequent jokes about the murders and his trial. What kind of monster would make sick jokes about the mother of his children? The kind that gets away with murder actually.

• Can he actually write a book or talk about the murders?

I’m not at all acquainted with the nuances of American criminal and civil law but I have a feeling that there is something in the law. which prohibits convicted murderers from actually profiting from their crimes, whether it involves earning royalties from book sales or television. In the case of OJ Simpson as he was not actually convicted of the murders, he is in a sense free to write books, appear on television and indulge his sick mind in “how it happened scenarios”.

• Can he be re- tried or prosecuted for something in relation to this case?

Whether OJ Simpson could go back to court, because of something he says on TV, is a tricky question to answer but I’m sure people will be asking this question and examining the loopholes none the less.

OJ Simpson can’t actually be re-tried for the murders under the Bill of Rights. But, I remember reading somewhere that double jeopardy is not absolute . So he could find himself in court if he is found guilty of lying or perjury. Realistically, however, this is difficult to prove as Simpson never actually testified under oath at his own trial. At one point, he is said to have announced to the court, "I did not, could not, and would not have committed this crime," but he wasn't on the witness stand.

If Simpson “confesses” his guilt on National television, it’s possible that he could be closely examined for fraud or misleading the public, and the money he may have made over the past 12 years, from maintaining his innocence would be examined . But determining this as a confession will be difficult to prove because, if his sentences start with the phrase, “if I did it”, it gives him wriggle room. What could however, be damning to him, is if his hypothetical confession reveals any new information, about the case that only the killer could have known. This would probably set into motion some sort of civil or judicial action. But yet again, this is just a probability, and as I’ve said before I’m not knowledgeable enough on the subject of American Law.

NO one know what will actually be said by Simpson on the 27th of November, but needless to say that it will evoke the same kind of media frenzy and coverage that the trail did, along with lasting questions of IS HE GUILTY?

For my part, I am clear about what side of the fence I sit on. Whatever happens on November the 27th won’t sway my view of his guilt - not so much of the murders, but of his DISGRACEFUL BEHAVIOUR since.

And, on that day I will be thinking about Nicole Simpson, Roland Goldman and their families. And I will be lamenting the loss of that fundamental sense of decency, respect for the dead and those that mourn them – something which clearly neither OJ Simpson nor the profit making TV station FOX seem to possess or care about.

Progess or Relapse?

2006-10-22T15:07:00.000Z

I was reading an article about 10 days ago on a NZ news website (www.stuff.co.nz/koreo), about a Treaty claim by Māori for UK pensions. The campaign is being spear headed by David Rankin an Auckland Unitec lecturer and a descendant of the Ngapuhi chief Hone Heke, who is the first Māori to have signed the Treaty of Waitangi in 1840.

I have to say, that while I am in favour of progressive campaigns for the economic and social improvement of Māori, I can’t stop wondering if this campaign seeking UK pension entitlement sets a debilitative precedent for Māori.

Living in New Zealand, I’ve heard more unflattering comments about Māori than I’ve heard positive. It’s sad that Māori aren’t always perceived well. I’ve so often heard people refer to them as “those bloody lazy dole-pinching Māori”, or those “loud aggressive once were warriors types”. Conceivably, a large number of these stereotypes stem from ill- informed views or possibly, because people have just not seen solid examples of hard working Māori like I have. Perhaps, all they’ve been exposed to are the actual negative elements. I know loads of Māori who defy all the stereotypes - Māori who have worked really hard to improve their lives and social standing. More importantly, they have made efforts to dispel negative connotations about their families and their people.

There is no doubt, that there needs to be far reaching proposals to improve Māori, in particular, those in the rural communities. However, I’d rather see improvement programmes that don’t involve hand-outs. I’ve always held the view that urging people to claim Government benefits, whether in NZ or the UK does very little to improve their lives in the long- term. If anything, it ensures an uneasy reliance and degeneration.

Professor David Rankin and prominent Māori like him need to focus on campaigning for systems aimed at viable, long term improvement. Proposals that encourage Māori to get quality education, encourage Māori entrepreneurships, Māori businesses. In short; they need to lend themselves to the cause of Encouraging the Economic Empowerment of Māori.

While all discussions and debates on Māori today still focus on the Māori -White relationships, most people including politicians tend to forget that it’s no longer about Māori and White. Today New Zealand is a culturally diverse country and will continue to grown in this diversity.

Future generations of New Zealanders whether their racial mix is White, Polynesian, African, Indian, Asian (oriental), and Middle Eastern etc are going to want equal opportunity for all. They are certainly not going to want to pay the price for, or apologise for the mistakes of the past. The future breed of New Zealanders will be the ones driving the economy; they will be the opinion makers, who play an important role in what goes on in New Zealand. It will have nothing to do with the race they belong to or how long they’ve been in New Zealand. In the future, views of which race occupied New Zealand first, won’t really matter. The reality is that, being born and raised in New Zealand is what makes people Kiwi, just like generations before them. Race and cultural heritage are not the same as Nationality and that is a key fact that fails to get recognised.

No one is denying the rich cultural and social significance that Māori have contributed to New Zealand. But it has been 166 years since the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi. Although many, many wrongs have occurred until quite recently, most people will agree that there has got to be a consensus a for a final time line by which all treaty claims should be addressed and remedied.

If Māori need to improve then they have got to shift their focus from the past to the future. The reality is that although they are still affected, hurt and driven by the past, if they don’t get a move on, they will be left behind. Māori have got to ensure their survival and well being through economic empowerment. Being dependant on compensations for the past, does not lead to enhancement. It only amplifies dependence and an inability to break free from the shackles of the past. And surely, this is not development but regression.

Nothing exciting to write home about

2006-10-16T11:46:00.000Z

I do apologise for the long hiatus. It was never my intention to permit myself such a sustained absence. The truth is work (and a lot of it) has been claiming all of my energy and coupled with the gym, it leaves me far too exhausted when I finally get home each day. But I've been making a sincere attempt to get out of bed on the weekends and actually get out and enjoy myself.

I spent one weekend with my friends Sam and Cathryn. Cathryn myself found our way to China town for really good Dim Sim at the "CHINESE EXPERIENCE" and then went to see the famous Aussie play VEGEMITE TALES, which was amusing and entertaining with equal measure. The following day, Sam and I went to see the BLACK DAHLIA, a film so bad I won't waste time telilng you any more about it. But we did stop for a good chat and coffee and some shopping in China Town. It was the good company, over the activity that made a difference to the weekend.

I spent this last weekend with my couisn DC who is in London for an exam and a holiday. We met up with our friend Shefali (whereintheworldisshefali.blogspot.com) and went to see the film THE DEPARTED.Given the A list star cast of the departed like Jack Nicholson, Leonardo de Caprio, Matt Damon, Martin Sheen, Mark Wahlberg, Alec Baldwin, and a director like Martin Scorcese you would expect it to be a good film. Sadly it was so dissappointing. I think they must have fired the screen writers mid way through the film. Because although it started well, it just fell flat somewhere in between. The only thing worth mentioning is that Nicolson and De Caprio were outstanding and held the film together for the most part.

I'm off to Paris weekend after next and so I'm really looking forward to that trip. I've got to brush up on my French before I leave. If only I didn't have to work so hard before then.

Birthday Musings

2006-09-28T08:38:00.000Z

It was my birthday yesterday and so I'm lamenting the loss of my 20s. Technically I'm no longer in my 20s, but mentally I'm still 18 and probably always will be. I had hoped the day would pass off as just another day, but it didn't.

My friend Sam (also from New Zealand) and I went to lunch. An hour, some good food, desserts and a few wines later we were suitably merry but certainly not legless. I got back to the office to be greeted by an exquisite and rather large bouquet of flowers and a large card from my bankers.

I got spoiled when I got home with presents from my family in London. And loads of emails and some phone calls from friends and family. And this morning, I got a beautiful plant from my friend Sam.

So all in all it has been a wonderful 18th Birthday. Thank you to everyone who made it special.

Crikey Mate!. It's a shame to see you go.

2006-09-06T08:39:00.000Z

It’s hard to believe that the Steve Irwin is no more. It's always such a shame when someone who has devoted their lives to saving others (wildlife in his case) dies.

I remember watching loads of the Crocodile Hunter series and they were always informative and entertaining. One always had a sense that although Irwin flirted with danger on a regular basis, he seemed to know what he was doing. He had an infectious enthusiasm and was passionate about wildlife. It's apparent from all the tributes flowing in that his conservation crusade reached many a home across the globe. His dedication should be applauded. The world has lost a true wildlife warrior and he will be missed.

Mmmmmmmmm......Mauritius

2006-08-14T10:47:00.000Z

Greetings from Mauritius! I consider myself a very lucky lady for managing to get out of Heathrow a couple of hours before they closed it down.

I am holidaying with my family at the lovely resort of La Pirogue in Flic en Flac. The staff at La Pirouge are extremely friendly and everyone knows "La Famille Valladares" because there are just so many of us here. The weather is perfect and the people are friendly. Because of my Indian skin, I get mistaken for a local and so everywhere I go, I get locals talking to me in French or Creole and fully expecting a response. Fortuanately, I do manage a response in French even though I'm sure my grammar is terrible.

Mauritian men are charming and flirtateous. I've been on the receiving end of their charm. But it is fortunately, all harmless. The good thing about being mistaken for a local is that you don't get hasseled by hawkers or taxi drivers.It also gives me a lot of confidence when bargaining at the local market stalls.

I've been doing a lot of swimming, rambling and things one normally does when on an Island holiday. I hope to go deep sea fishing one of these days. I went canoeing yesterday and the current was a bit too strong. My canoe had a mind of its own and after drifting near the reef, it capsized leaving me stranded in the water with the oars. I have to admit the sight of me grabbing onto the oars for dear life must have been hilarious. After I swam back to the shore, they had to get a boat to rescue my canoe. I felt no embarrasement, but I'm also not in a hurry to show my face there again.

Mauritius reminds me a lot of Goa, India. Only this place is a lot cleaner. Mark Twain is supposed to have said that "Mauritius was made first, then heaven was copied from it". I'm sure that anyone including myself who has travelled here would agree with Twain. I know that if Paradise is anything like Mauritius, then I want to die right here and now. Because I already feel like I'm in heaven and I'm happier than I've ever been.

Cry of the Innocents

2006-07-27T20:55:00.000Z

The anguished cry of the innocents shrouds the stillness of the night.
The souring stench of death, the blood from their slaughter
Seep through and stain the veil of the satin moonlit sky
A country in turmoil, caught up in a battle it did not want to fight

As murderous intents reign supreme, they harvest not heroes but killing machines
Lessons from the past seem to be ignored as this rabid campaign carries on.
Who counts the bombs, the missiles, the precious lives lost?
Is this a battle for freedom or the beginning of a new Holocaust?

Postcard from Helsinki

2006-07-24T14:04:00.000Z

Greetings from Helsinki, Finland - the land of the midnight sun. And I have to say, the sun has been out well past midnight on most days.

I should ideally be in bed since I've been suffering from a bad cold, fever and delhi belly. But all of that has not stopped my penchant for rambling.

I've sailed along the wonderful Helsinki Archipalgo several times now and I have to say the views are specatular. Helsinki is made up of about 314 little islands. The Helsinki zoo is on one of them and has Europe's only snowleopards(or so they claim). The market square is colourful with people selling fresh fruits, vegetables, ready cooked food like reindeer and fish, plenty of fresh fish here, some of it being sold on boats. My dad would love this place

There are also vendors selling handpainted artifacts and handicrafts. Even reindeer skins and furs are a plenty here. The Suomenlina fortress is amazing and well worth the trip. I went into a World War II submarine and I felt so sorry for the poor sailors who had to endure living in them. It is hot in there. I've also been on a dinner cruise along the Archipelago which lasted over 2.5 hours . I've got to come back in the winter because i was told that the lakes and seas freeze and the ice is over 3 metres deep and so they actually drive cars over the ice to go from one island to the next. Saunas are popular here and in the winter they cut a hole in the ice, jump in and jump out and rush back to the saunas. I've simply got to see this for myself.

I've done a lot in these last few days and like any other holiday, I really don't want this this to end. But time has a funny way of moving along rapidly when one is having fun. And before I know it, I'll be back in London stuck behind a desk at my bank, covered in paperwork.

So for the moment, I'll sit back, relax and pretend like this holiday will last forever........can you seriously blame me?

Salaam Mumbai ! Salaam!

2006-07-12T14:34:00.000Z

As I watched the horrific images from Mumbai yesterday on the news, I was deeply saddened. Although I now permanently reside in New Zealand, I was born and raised in Mumbai. I lived in the suburb of Mahim, where one of the bombs exploded yesterday. Images of Mahim are in all the newspaper and television reports. Mahim has always been a volatile area, particularly during communal rioting. I've witnessed first hand the riots of 1991/92 and the bomb blasts of 1993. And I can tell you that the images from yesterday's bombings, are as lurid and macabre as they appear.

Terrorism is certainly not a new phenomenon in Mumbai. For years, India has grappled with cross-border and internal terrorism. What is alarming, however, is the confounded ease with which terrorists seem to be planning and successfully executing their strikes. No one has claimed responsibility for the attacks yesterday. Both the suspected militant groups, Lashkar-e-Taiba and the banned Students Islamic Movement of India have denied any links to the attacks.

The sinister calculations of timing and place is indicative of an elusive and dangerous organised group or groups working together, who seem to have sharpened their skills over many years. The Indian Intelligence have confirmed, that they have always known, about the inevitability of an terrorist attack, but they admit, that they could do little to accurately prepare for, or predict the timing, or the targets of such an attack.

Trying to understand and learn about terrorism is a bit like peering through a thick cover of smog. The only thing transparent about terrorist groups is that –THEY WILL ATTACK, and brutally so, to highlight and gain a reaction to their rapacious cause. The manner in which terrorist groups are galvanised into action, their skilful use of technology and interpersonal communications, and their fondness for soft targets of opportunity, make it difficult to predict, just when, and how they will strike.

Further more, unlike in the past, terrorist groups today are a bit like Amoeba...shapeless in structure with a one or more nuclei. They function like decentralized network of cells rather than a single tightly structured organized group. They are impromptu organizations, which are flexible, adaptable and their nucleus/nuclei is their ideology, which manifests itself, when they combine into task forces for specific missions. Because of their fluid, amorphous nature, they seem to be harder to trace and penetrate. And so, their targets too are harder to determine. The combination of advanced technology, together with vested shared interests by both fundamentalists, militant organizations and the underworld have created a pernicious alliance that constantly threatens not just India, but the world at large.

The Indian Government needs to revisit its counter terrorism policies. It is vital, that they rigorously prepare to address the possibility of graver attacks (including biological and chemical ones). Border security needs to be beefed up as does security around crucial infrastructure. Furthermore, there needs to be an expansion of cooperative threat reduction programmes and an overall improvement in intelligence gathering. As India moves forward rapidly in its race for economic superiority, its' enemies have increased more than its allies and therefore protecting its people from terrorism is a priority.

This Wednesday in Mumbai, there are scores of people still searching for their loved ones.. Their lives, dramatically altered by this shameful act of cowardice. And my heart goes out to them all. But Mumbai is a city with an indomitable spirit. I remember the day after the 1993 bomb blasts, there was a 99% attendance at offices all over Mumbai. And today, like before, in an act of defiance against the terrorists, train services were back to normal and again packed with commuters. Yes, Mumbai has a remarkable ability to pick up and move on.

There are stories emerging in the papers today of how people had been rushing to help each other, as they have done on numerous occasions in the past whenever terror struck. The slum dwellers, living by the railway tracks, and, often despised for dirtying and overcrowding the areas they encroach, were among the first to hurry to the aid of the injured. People in their cars and on their motorbikes, offered to get strangers home as trains were cancelled. Others provided food and water to those who had to face a long trek home. And it was also reported, that India's minority Muslim community, were among the first to queue outside hospitals to donate blood to the injured.

Yes, despite all their differences, the people of Mumbai really know how to rally together in times of crises. And this is why they deserve a salute. Salaam Mumbai Salaam! It's your Mumbai, and you have shown us just how proud of it you are. And we, who have lived among you in the past, and who know you...we say “Salaam”. We are proud of Mumbai and we are proud of all of you who live there.

Go Forth & Mulitiply...Just Not At My Expense!

2006-07-06T07:58:00.000Z

I was really disgusted early in the week when I read about Keith Macdonald. He is the scrounging 21 year old who is about to become a dad for the 7th time. Since the age of 13 he's been breeding like a rabbit - 7 kids with 7 different women, all of whom he has abandoned. He boasts of not having paid a single penny towards child support. Yet he callously dismisses any suggestions that he is an irresponsible parent. And he insists his children will be well provided for………WITH BENEFITS.

Macdonald is a convicted criminal who gets a weekly allowance from income support. He spends all his time and OUR HARD EARNED MONEY on poker machines at game arcades. It is estimated the cost of supporting his seven kids until they are 16 will be £1 million - a bill that will be footed by the taxpayer. And I have to ask the question WHY??

Why is it that an able bodied young man, perfectly capable of producing children, is allowed to scrounge on the state? Explaining his decision not to support any of his children himself, he said: "It’s not that I don’t want anything to do with the kids. "I would like to, but the mothers won’t let me for some reason. Why should I pay for them if I can’t see them?". Well, I ask why I or any other tax payer has to pay for them, when not only have we not seen them, but they certainly are not our responsibility?

What annoys me the most is that Keith Macdonald was not some unknown person who suddenly emerged out of the woodwork just this week. He apparently caused outrage last year when he was exposed by the Sun as being the worst father in Britain. Yet despite all the publicity, it appears that no one from the Child Support Agency nor the Income Support took any notice. Keith Macdonald may be a disaster as a dad, but it is apparent that he is not the only disaster in this story. It's plainly obvious that the Child Support Agency and the Benefits department have failed in the jobs that they are meant to be doing.

It's about time these agencies wake up and enforce strict penalties to people like Macdonald or else we will have many more like him emerging out of obscurity and claiming benefits that they do not deserve. And once again the overburdened tax payers will pay the price for someone else's stupidity.

Free Willy!! Hands off our Whales, Japan.

2006-06-15T10:04:00.000Z

A few votes from man tomorrow = Giant repercussions for whales

An important vote in the Caribbean tomorrow, at the gathering of the International Whaling Commission (IWC) will decide the fate of the great mammals of the oceans - the whales. Tomorrow's vote is a power struggle between pro-whaling nations and the countries that condemn the practice. Leading the fight against whaling, are nations like New Zealand and Australia. Where as Japan, Norway, Iceland and other smaller island nations are hoping to gain a majority and thereby continue with their archaic and inhospitable killing of whales.

Over the past 20 years Japan , Norway and Iceland have all still been hunting the great whales in defiance of the roughly 20 year international moratorium on their killing. They are also on a course to gain control of more than 50 per cent of the votes at the gathering tomorrow. The anti-whaling nations used to hold a controlling majority of the IWC votes, but Japan has craftily mustered support from smaller poor island nations, encouraging them to vote in favour of whaling and offering them substantial developmental aid. It is estimated that Japan has spent almost $200 million in its efforts to buy votes. A win for them will lend credence to practices that will threaten the very existence of these wonderful mammals. Whalers will kill approximately 2,000 whales this year.

A victory for Japan tomorrow poses another serious threat. Japan together with its allies, will be in position to wield considerable power over the running of the IWC, in a manner that best suits their selfish needs. They could, for instance exclude from their meetings groups like environmental campaigners, the media and even anti-whaling nations, by mere casts of majority votes. They could easily pass pro-whaling motions and annul anti-whaling ones. In short they could reduce the IWC to an institution that favours whaling as opposed to the role that it is meant to have as a regulator. Pro-whaling nations need a majority of 75% votes to abolish the current moratorium on whaling. But seeing as how Japan is relentlessly recruiting new member nations through monetary favours in support of its cause, it won't be too long before this majority is reached. And once the door on accountability is shut, things will simply spiral out of control.

Since the 1986 ban, Japan has consistently engaged in what it refers to as "scientific whaling" which is supposedly designed to "monitor fish stocks and migration patterns". Norway has continued to hunt commercially by simply entering an objection to the moratorium. And as for Iceland, its done a mixture of both. All three of these nations together have killed almost 25,000 whales since 1986 with Japan accounting for the killing of more than 5000 mink whales, which is just one in a variety of the species. Many of these mink whales have ended up on up-market Japanese restaurant menus. So I'm left asking the question "How can dead whales account for the scientific monitoring of fish stocks and migration patterns?" Japan has yet to share the results of its scientific monitoring with the rest of the world.

One of the public faces of Japan's pro-whaling lobby Mr. Masayauki Komatasu, is supposed to have claimed that the whale numbers have increased to the point where they can safely be hunted again and if not controlled they will eat other fish because they are "cockroaches of the sea". Cockroaches of the sea! Isn't that title a bit far-fetched and unwarranted? I mean, what is Kamatasu expecting the whales to eat if not fish? Surely he can't be thinking they'd survive on Miso soup or vegetarian sushi?

What really annoys me, is the constant criticism levied against New Zealand and anti-whaling nations for not understanding the Japanese way of life and for trying to impose what the Japanese Ministers call a brand of “cultural imperialism”. Japan claims that whaling is part of their long standing cultural tradition and must be respected. Well, I don’t buy that argument. Just because something has been in existence and practice for centuries does not make it right. If old and outdated ideas were commonplace, then we would still be labouring under the notion that the earth is flat.

As someone who permanently resides in New Zealand, I can tell you that we take our environment very seriously. To be berated as people who don’t understand and are insensitive to the Japanese cultural ethos is really, a criticism that bears no merit. If anything, New Zealanders are incredibly culturally sensitive people. Whales are precious to us. They form an important symbol of New Zealand’s cultural history and tradition. According to Maori legend, Paikea the ancestor of the Ngati Porou tribe came from Hawaiki to Whangara, north of Gisborne, riding on the back of a whale called Tahora. The legend of Paikea has inspired Witi Ihimeara’s 1987 novel Whale Rider and the subsequent 2003 film. Whales are an important cultural symbol -acknowledged and celebrated through our songs, our art and craft, our cultural stories and our lives in general. And perhaps that’s why, the thought of them being harpooned and killed is so unpalatable. So I ask, what then, is the Japanese response to the New Zealand cultural ethos? Is whale hunting their brand of “cultural imperialism”?

I’ll admit that New Zealand profits from eco-tourism and from whale watching. But we promote this, not to satisfy a rumbling in our bellies. We do it to educate and inform the world, of just how wonderful these mammals really are and why it’s vital to keep them alive. Whales are not just big predatory creatures of the ocean. They have the largest brains on our planet, as complex as human beings. They are said to be capable of highly complex thinking. Yet thanks to centuries of whale hunting by humans, they are more fragile and vulnerable now than ever before.

Someone’s got to take a stand and put a end to whale hunting. And I applaud the anti-whaling countries for doing this. I am not a member of any green organisation or environmental group. But I think its really imporant for me to take a stand. This is a sensless slaughter. Nations like Japan, Iceland and Norway could reap more rewards from keeping the whales alive than from slaughering them. Eco tourism would boost their economies and would reduce their argument about killing whales to sustain their economic needs. Anti whaling Governments should start boycotting Japanese goods because that will definate give them a strong message and prompt them to stop this silly slaughter. I just hope and pray that the votes go the whales' way tomorrow. If not, then the future of the giants of the ocean will forever be bleak.

Some sites below:

www.greenpeace.org/international/campaigns/save-our-seas-2/save-the-whales

http://www.petitionspot.com/petitions/antiwhalepetition

www.stopwhaling.org

Gutes Glück Deutschland. Spiel Gut Heute

2006-06-09T14:24:00.000Z

So the long anticipated FIFA world cup kicks off today with a match between Germany and Costa Rica.

I work in a large global bank and am surrounded by footy mad fans, most of whom come from Germany, Italy, Iran and France - all participating nations. So needless to say, the office is adorned with a variety of flags. One of the German Managers came in dressed up in his nations colours and handed out gummy bears. Now that really speaks volumes about National Pride. There is no escaping Footy Fever here in London where everyone and their mad dog seems to be swept up in a wave of euphoric anticipation.

I'm not sure as to who I want to win the cup but I know my top 4 and in no particular order are Germany, Italy, England and Brazil.

Oh it's going to be so exciting. gutes Glück Deutschland. Spiel Gut Heute

The Bagpipes, the Auld Scotch Sangs, Nessie and I

2006-05-19T21:49:00.000Z

As my train drew to a slow halt at Edinburgh’s Waverly station on Monday afternoon, I could almost instantly, feel the difference in the air. I had left England four and a half hours earlier and was greeted, upon my arrival, by a tremendous outpouring of what the Scots like to call "LIQUID SUNSHINE" With that sort of optimistic take on the weather, one certainly does not get too perturbed about the lack of sunshine. In fact, I felt, oddly refreshed and ready to explore this historic land.

From its cobblestone streets, to museums and gardens, its many monuments and of course its castles, Edinburgh is simply one of the most architecturally astonishing cities, I have ever visited. Like any other tourist, I was a bit awestruck. I took in the usual sights of the city like the famous Edinburgh castle- which is really worth a visit, the Princes Street Gardens, Camera Obscura and museums. Sadly, I did not have time to visit the zoo, but I heard it is really good and has Europe's only known koalas there. The Whiskey Tour was quite nice, particularly as one does get to sample the produce of the distillery. At least now I know the difference between malt, blended and grain whiskey.

My arrival coincided with the GHOST FEST. There are a number of ghost tours in the city and I found myself joining a group of serious ghost hunters for a GHOST AND GHOULS tour. It is said, that by day, Edinburgh is a busy city, but by night, it takes on a more sinister air. The tour guides reconstruct the city's long gruesome history of murder, torture and hangings. There is apparently, a haunting legacy on the city's Old Town, and it is said that ghostly apparitions now roam the streets. The tour guides seem not just knowledgeable, but extremely animated in their recounting of tales, which makes the whole experience quite thrilling. The trip into the dark underground vaults have been known to produce several encounters, particularly, with the ghost called the Watcher, who is also respectfully referred to as Mr. Boots(because of his shuffling feet), for fear of offending him. He is said to be sinister and very dangerous. I did have a tiny, weird encounter, but thankfully it was not too frightening. There are no gimmicks, no actors that creep out at you for dramatic effect. Just a trip into the dark and unexpected. Even the reluctant bystander, will find the experience thrilling. But it is certainly not for the faint hearted.

The following day, I went on a long loop trip across the highlands and Loch Ness. I started with a breakfast at Sterling, where I had the opportunity to glimpse the famous Sterling castle. I crossed the dramatically scenic Rob Roy Country and the weeping Glen of Glencoe, which is the site of the famous massacre of the MacDonald clan. My next stop was for Lunch at Fort William, after which I headed along the Caledonian Canal where I stopped at the Commando memorial to admire Ben Nevis, in the distance. Then drove for a bit along Loch Ness to arrive at the famous Urquhart Castle. This is a really neat castle and worth the trip. I had the opportunity to take a boat across Loch Ness. There was no "Nessie, the monster" here, just a beautiful stretch of lake surrounded by breathtaking views of the hills and castles around it, and, the sounds of the bagpipes in the distance. I have to say , I have never felt so calm and peaceful as I did on the lake. My boat trip brought me to Inverness. After a while, I headed back to Edinburgh with stops along the way at the little town of Pitlochry and Perth. I also crossed the river Tay, which is supposed to be famous for salmon fishing. And then crossed the River Forth which is famous for its rail bridge. I reached Edinburgh at 9 in the evening, but I continued to party well into the night.

The topography of the Highlands reminds me a lot of New Zealand. They are both offer such dramatic landscapes and you cannot help but be totally awestruck. The Scots are a friendly bunch. I guess they are so used to the tourists. One thing I was just not brave enough to experience was HAGGIS. While I'm pretty good at eating most things, I cannot and have never been able to eat things like liver, kidneys tripe etc. I'm sure it's delicious but just not for me.

Finally on my last day I did a bit more exploring and souvenir shopping and reluctantly caught the train back to London. The trip may be over, but I can't quite get the sound of the bagpipes out of my mind. And I don't think I want to either, because they seem to be summoning my return. And I am only too happy to answer their call.

A DAY AT THE POLLS

2006-05-04T15:53:00.000Z

I've been spending the day at East Dulwich, helping the local LIBERAL DEMOCRACTS (Lib Dems) with their canvassing. I'm not overly political, but I confess that I do have a motive for wanting to see the Lib Dems do well. My cousin Mark, is the local council chair and is a candidate for the Village Ward.

The Lib Dems have been canvassing with a passion this year. I beleive that they started their rounds at half past five this morning. Now that is dedication. You won't catch me doing anything at that hour. I've done a few rounds of canvassing with my cousin Mark and the general outlook seems fairly positive. People have certainly noticed and made mention of the work of the Party. Time will tell how their fare at the polls, though I have to say, they have worked really hard with their campaign. Whatever the outcome, they will definately have done a lot better than they've ever done before. And so they have everything to gain. It is a long day and a longer night ahead. I really wish them the best of luck.

I've always been of the opinion that it is critical for every voter to cast their vote. Most people are sadly disillusioned with politics or are simply indifferent in their attitude towards the ballot. The simple fact is, that it is the people who have control over who governs their local councils and in a large sense their countries. Decisions made by councillors on budget allocation and services effects every one and that is why it is so important for people to have say, as to what their needs are and how these needs are addressed by councils.

Frankly if you don't vote, you don't have a voice and are therefore not entitled to an opinion. If you don't make the effort when it matters, then you have to shut up and put up. Because you
if you fail to make a difference, when you have the opportunity to do so, you can't really afford to complain afterwards.

So for those voters that are undecided or who can't be bothered to vote, I'd urge you to reconsider and to cast your vote, for the party that you beleive will best address your needs. This vote affects your day to day life and surely, therefore, it is important to have your say.

Patricia, this time you really BLEWIT!

2006-04-26T15:38:00.000Z

I was appalled to hear Patricia Hewitt describe the NHS as having 'its best year ever'. Correct me if I'm wrong, but ever since I've been here all I've read about is how poor the state of the NHS is. I've read that nurses are being made redundant in their thousands, debts are escalating out of control and that many hospitals have to close some of their wards. Now if this is her description of a healthy NHS, then I shudder to think of what the 'bad years' will look like.

I can only come up with 4 possible reasons for her comments.

She is living on another planet. (I'm sure a lot of people wish she would leave the UK and move there permanently)

She is being ill advised by her department. However, I find this a bit far-fetched as we live in an age of awareness, where information is readily available.

She is attempting to camouflage the real issues, which she knows are not just disastrous, but have arisen because of her ill-planned policies.

She knows, she is aware and just does not care. Very scary if this is the case.

Whatever her reasons, she has to realise that the public does not comprise a bunch of ignorant idiots. There ought to be some accountability as to why things are so horribly wrong. The amount spent on the NHS did not come from Patricia Hewitt’s personal bank. If it did, I'm sure she'd be more vigilant with the way it was spent. This money is the millions that comes from hard earned tax payers' wages. And because of that, they are entitled to know how it is spent and they also have a right to a health system that works.

One has to ask what has happened to all the billions that the government pumped into the NHS for the purpose of improvement. There is sadly no evidence of any supposed improvement. The reality is that, there exist a culture of immense waste, particularly by those who are meant to be steering to safety the 'sinking ship' that is the NHS.

Overspending on NHS salaries, given to top management is estimated to be about £650 million. I'm sure that £600 million is about the current debt figure. So it just goes to show where the debt stems from. I'm all for people being entitled to a decent wage, but hefty wages should be matched by good performance. And that does not seem to be the case here.

Hospitals do not exist to make money. For that, we have banks, businesses and industries. The core function of hospitals is to save lives and to provide good care to their patients. Nurses do this on a daily basis. They are at the frontline of all the action and absolutely critical to the existence of a hospital. Without them, hospitals might as well cease to exist.

There is not doubt that every organisation needs to have staff to run their day to day administration. But those, that are running the administration wheel, need to ensure that they have measures in place, for things to run smoothly. It is all about GOOD GOVERNANCE. Good Governance is about managing budgets, setting performance targets, undertaking reviews, identifying potential risks and issues, management of tasks and problem solving. In short, it is all about COMMON SENSE, something that very is clearly lacking in this Government.

I don't agree with the direction she wants the NHS to head towards. Privatisation will only escalate the quest for profit and lead to hospitals cherry picking their profitable patients. What happens to the bulk of people who cannot afford the costs of privatisation? If a Government cannot look after the health of its people then it has no reason being in power.

Judging by the way in which it has conducted itself over a number of serious and important issues, it has become quite apparent, that it is just a matter of time, before the sun sets on this Government. The question is really, how long it will take to clean up the mess once they are gone? And sadly, there are no guesses as to who will pay the price.

E=mc² and it has nothing to do with Physics (Elizabeth = Magnetic Charm times 2)

2006-04-13T22:48:00.000Z

I am not British, which is probably why I’ve never been much of a royalist. Yet, I sat up to watch the BBC documentary on the Queen on Monday night. I must confess that not only did I find the programme informative, but I seemed to have developed a sense of admiration for the woman who is one of the most adored and respected Monarchs in History.

Like her or loathe her, there is no question about how widespread her appeal and influence stretches. She is after all, the only woman in the world, who does not need a passport to travel.

The Queen is loved across all generations. Children turn up to greet her wherever she goes. While we seldom see the private face, behind the public image, I’m absolutely convinced that among other things, she is a doting grandmother to all of her grandchildren. You only have to look at pictures from Prince Harry’s graduation yesterday to recognise this. They are both smiling, at what would ordinarily have been a more serious occasion. His smile paints a picture of open adulation. Hers is one of grandmotherly love and incredible pride.

So alluring is Her Majesty’s presence that fans and celebrities and even the most cynical of observers, have all confessed to feeling a bit awestruck in her company. Why, even the Prince of Darkness, Ozzy Osbourne couldn’t hep but gush when asked about the Queen. He confessed to being totally mesmerised. In his words, “She has amazing skin, the bluest eyes and is a very pretty lady”. And yes, wife Sharon nodded, in agreement. Even Mohammed Al Fayed, who loathes the royals, has publicly acknowledged that “The Queen is a good woman”.

Her 54 years at the helm have not always been smooth sailing. The Queen has led a blemish free lifestyle, but the same cannot be said for the rest of her family, who over the years, have caused both shame and embarrassment. The antics of her family – Princess Margaret, the Charles, Diana and Camilla triangle, Prince Harry, Prince Andrew and Fergie have ensured that the tabloids were fed with a steady supply of trashy fodder. The whole Diana saga in the 1990s led to a royal thrashing from the press. Yet, despite all of this, Her Majesty seems to have weathered all storms with remarkable calmness, fortitude and grace.

There will always be critics, who consider her to be too old fashioned and far removed from the reality of Modern Britain. But these sceptics will be forced to reconsider their claims. The Queen is one of the first people to send an email (in 1976) long before it became fashionable. She carries a cell phone and has for years now, in those handbags of hers. She knows more about the actual goings-on in this country than any other person in history. Every Tuesday evening, she is privy to a confidential brief by the Prime Minister, where the affairs of the country are discussed. So she is acutely aware of every detail, of every truth and lie behind the issues. She has worked with 10 Prime Ministers during her reign. Now, when you consider this in a larger perspective, the sheer magnitude of it all hits you. She quite astonishingly holds 54 years of factual knowledge about this country that no other person in history does. Knowledge that she will take to her grave.

No, Her Majesty is not old fashioned. She is principled, consistent, focused and acutely aware. She demonstrated time and again what a strong sense of duty and loyalty she has towards her nation. She has never cancelled an appointment or public engagement. Even at 80 (she will be 80 on the 21st of April, 2006) she continues to inspire and lead.

Who knows what the future holds for the Monarchy? Self-destruction has always been their problem. So the choices they make, will dictate their future. At the moment, it looks fairly certain that the Throne will be inherited by Charles and then William. But they have miles to go and lessons to learn before then. Prince Charles needs a crash course in diplomacy, which is just one, in a host of other skills he lacks. Prince William is young and has a lot of living to do before he becomes King. One thing is certain; there will never be a Monarch quite like Her Majesty, the Queen.

I suspect the Monarchy will be around for while to come, but just how brightly their star will shine in the future, remains to be seen. Their long term survival will depend on how they conduct themselves and on their sense of commitment to the nation. One of the Queen’s remarkable achievements has been that she has remains inexorably pragmatic enough to stay popular. How well the future Monarchs continue in this vein will ultimately decide their fate.

But, for the present, this country is blessed with a Monarch who has been steadfast in her duty towards the nation. A woman who is remarkably spiritual, patient and who displays tremendous grace under pressure. A woman who has stood for good values and good judgement. A woman who has never let her nation down.

I’m not attempting to canonise The Queen through this Blog post of mine. I’m not British. Her Majesty is not my Queen. But unlike a certain Prime Minster’s wife, who thinks that the Queen does not deserve a curtsey, I am happy to grant the Queen the respect she so rightly deserves (she’s definitely earned it). And I salute her.

“Happy Birthday Your Majesty! God Bless and long may you continue to reign.”

The Husband Store

2006-04-08T11:26:00.000Z

Someone sent this to me and I thought it was hilarious, so I decided to post it on my blog. Being a single bird, some may think that I should be offended, but hey I do have a sense of humour and besides this really points out the truth about what some women want.

A store that sells husbands has just opened in NewYork City, where a woman may go to choose a husband. Among the instructions at the entrance is a description of how the store operates.

"You may visit the store ONLY ONCE !There are six floors and the attributes of the men increase as the shopper ascends the flights. There is, however, a catch . .. you may choose any man from aparticular floor, or you may choose to go up a floor,but you cannot go back down except to exit the building."

So, a woman goes to the Husband Store to find a husband . .

On the first floor the sign on the door reads: Floor 1 - These men have jobs and love the Lord.

The second floor sign reads: Floor 2 - These men have jobs, love the Lord, and love kids.

The third floor sign reads: Floor 3 - These men have jobs, love the Lord, love kids, and are extremely good looking."Wow," she thinks, but feels compelled to keep going.

She goes to the fourth floor and sign reads: Floor 4 - These men have jobs, love the ! Lord, love kids, are drop-dead good looking and help with the housework."Oh, mercy me!" she exclaims, "I can hardly stand it!"

Still, she goes to the fifth floor and sign reads: Floor 5 - These men have jobs, love the Lord, love kids, are drop- dead gorgeous, help with the housework, and have a strong romantic streak. They are also EAGER all day and all night long!!!!!

She is so tempted to stay, but she goes to the sixth floor and the sign reads:Floor 6 - You are visitor 4,363,012 to this floor.There are no men on this floor. This floor exists solely as proof that women are impossible to please.Thank you for shopping at the Husband Store. Watch your step as you exit the building, and have a nice day!

I'm a celebrity....get me out of here

2006-04-02T14:36:00.000Z

Lately it seems like there’s a plethora of news stories on celebrities getting into a spot of bother with the law. Naomi Campbell hitting yet another one of her staff, George Michael found slumped at the wheel and in possession of cannabis. There's the cocaine Kate story that is still running a variety of updates and of course, there’s Pete Doherty and his numerous arrests…the list is endless.

I’m not a great celebrity watcher so I don’t particularly care for much of the gossip that surrounds these people. But what I do care about is the treatment meted out to them, under the law.

I’m a firm believer in one law for all. So I fail to understand, how time and again, celebrities seem to get away with behaviour that would get the rest of us into serious problems. I have a serious bee in my bonnet when it comes to this issue.

Let’s take the example of Pete Doherty. How many times has this crackhead been caught with substance possession and aggressive behaviour while under the influence? He shows no respect at all for the law, is often late for court hearings and his numerous court appearances are a joke. Yet he gets let off the hook time and again all because he’s a lost soul, a celebrity with a serious addiction problem. It a pity, these same judges aren’t so sympathetic with other addicts. It is a total mockery of the law. I dont' care how much of a musical genius Pete Doherty is. To me, he is just pothead and I don't see why he owns a license to behave as he pleases, with total disregard for the law.

Halle Berry was in a hit and run incident in 2000 and she got away with three years probation and a fine. And if it were me, instead of George Michael, slumped at the wheel that morning, and in possession of drugs, I would not have got a caution from the police. I would more than likely be convicted of endangering the lives of the public and for driving under the influence. But then, I’m not George Michael am I?

These are just a few, in a series of stories that illustrate how being rich and famous guarantees you more than a few shares of allowances under the law. The whole arrest thing is just a joke really. It’s almost as if getting your mug-shot at a cop shop is about as fashionable as having your picture on the cover of Vogue.

If celebrities are going to be arrested, then I think it’s about time that they were viewed with the same legal eye as the rest of us. Arrests need to be followed by convictions and punishment. Perhaps an example needs to be made of someone, if only to drive home the point that you cannot keep getting away with breaking the law just because you are rich and famous.

I don’t see how being a celebrity should distinguish one person from another under the law. No one should be allowed to escape the long arm of the law, not matter who they are.

A Good Victory for Common Sense

2006-03-25T19:37:00.000Z

It is refreshing to know that good judgement and common sense still prevails in the courts in Britain. I’m referring here to the case of Shabina Begum, the young Muslim girl who took her school, Denbigh High School in Luton, to court over their refusal to allow her to wear a full length Islamic dress called a jilbab. Her claim was that the school acted in "violation of her human rights and denied her right to education".

The Law Lords in Britain’s highest court ruled in favour of the school and rightly so. Had the decision been in favour of Shabina, it would force every school in Britain to allow their pupils to dictate to them, what dress code is appropriate for their religion. Further more, it would seriously undermine the authority of schools and be a huge victory for radical religious groups.

This case had very little to do with human rights or the right to practice one's religion. It was merely another example of radical thinkers trying to enforce their rule in a secular land and also a case of turning a young girl into a political pawn.

Shabina has been supported by her brother and members of the radical Muslim group Hizb ut-Tahrir – a group that wants Britain to be ruled by the Shariat Islamic law. One of the lawyers, representing her in court was Cherie Blair QC. It does make you wonder, whether the young lady actually does have a mind of her own, or whether, she is just the poster girl behind a radical campaign. A campaign that could have significant political gain.

I watched Shabina being interviewed on GMTV, and in her interview she said "I'm an intelligent girl, and no one tells me what to do." Yet she was unable to answer so many of the basic questions posed to her and kept looking at her lawyer to bail her out. She seemed like a puppet whose whose strings were being pulled and whose lines were carefully rehearsed. A far cry from the image of a girl speaking her mind.

Her lawyer kept insisting that the case was about a violation of human rights. The lawyer, quite frankly, needs both her intelligence and her motives questioned. She failed to solidify her argument about how this constitutes a human rights violation, despite the fact that she had ample opportunity to do so. And I beg to differ on all her arguments about the case.

The suggestion that the school denied her right to education and violated her human rights by failing to allow her the freedom to practice her religion is ludicrous.

If anything, Denbigh High accommodated the needs of its largely Muslim population by the introduction of the Shalwar Khameez – a uniform that Shabina’s family were well aware of when they enrolled her there, a uniform that she happily wore for two years before she decided that the jilbab needed to be introduced. Also, if the Shalwar Khameez as a uniform, does not meet the requirements of Islam, why then, did none of the other Muslim students (I believe the number is over a 1000) or the Head Teacher who herself is Muslim, raise any objections? Why was Shabina the only one with a problem?

The truth is, no one denied Shabina the right to an education. She took that right away from herself when she made a decision to leave Denbigh High that day. She cannot blame her school for denying her an education, seeing as how she made little or no effort in the past two years since her legal battle began, to enrol in any of the other schools in her area, where the jilbab is an accepted uniform. No the decision not to be educated was one taken by her or more worryingly, her radical family.

The point of having uniforms in schools is to provide a sense of uniformity, equality both in dress and education. Equality to all students, irrespective of race, religion or economic circumstances. The job of a student is to learn, not to challenge or undermine the school’s authority. Schools are the playgrounds for learning, not the battlefields for religious dominance.

I grew up in a country where I was part of a minority religion. And I do understand inbuilt, subtle and obvious prejudices against minority groups. But what I fail to understand is the sheer hypocrisy of radical religious groups.

These are people who chose to make a home for themselves and their families in Britain. They were not refugees, nor were they people who were forced to be here. They came here of their own free will. It really infuriates me to see them readily grabbing all the benefits and opportunities that Britain has to provide. Yet they have absolutely no sense of responsibility, duty or loyalty towards to this country. They would much rather bite the hand that feeds them.

One of the beautiful things about modern Britain is that is it a colourful, secular nation and it should remain one without being forced by radicals to succumb to any particular religious law. If these people are unhappy with what Britain has to provide, then I suggest they gather their families together, pack their bags and buy themselves a one way ticket to a country where their law is the law of the land. Perhaps they will be happier there. And when that happens, I know a lot of us would be safer and happier here.

Happy Anniversary Mr. President!

2006-03-20T22:23:00.000Z

Happy Anniversary Mr. President! It’s been three years since you marched your forces into Iraq to rid them of a tyrannical, pompous despot called Saddam. You also filled them with hope about a life of peace, stability and more importantly liberty.

Three years on and who would have imagined that you’d still be there? The promises you made are worthless and a far cry from the reality that grips the nation of Iraq today. Bit by bit, you have milked her dry, not just of her resources, but you’ve also managed to strip her of every ounce of dignity she possesses. From a once resourceful beautiful princess, you have reduced her to nothing more than a common whore. And you just keep taking and taking from her. You must be mighty pleased with yourself.

Perhaps we underestimated your stupidity and over-estimated your intelligence. Or were it the reverse? Did we underestimate your intelligence, your shrewdness? It’s difficult to tell. Alas! The light that shines on the truth is a flickering and dim.

There are hundreds of journalists in Iraq today who flirt with danger on a daily basis to give us an account of your actions there. Judging by their reports over 2,300 American soldiers and 103 British troops have been killed. An average of 60 -70 Iraqis die every day and of course several journalists, peace workers and humanitarians have been abducted and killed.

Tell me Mr. President, how do you justify their deaths? What do you tell the relatives of your troops? Do you tell them that their sons, daughters, husbands and fathers were killed in battle for oil? Just what goes through your mind when you see images of dead bodies of Iraqi men, women and children loaded on the back of a truck or lying on the streets like strewn bits of garbage? Is there even a flicker or remorse in your heart; a split second when you fully grasp the magnitude of the horror you have created?

How will you mark the day Mr. President? Will you and your advisers and supporters gather and watch a spectacular firework and aerial display in the Iraqi skies? Or will you cheer, like you do at a baseball game, when you gather together in the Oval office to view tapes showing some of your soldiers bullying and shaming defenceless prisoners at Abu Ghraib?

When you bleed a nation dry, and long after she has shed her tears, her pain gets converted to hate. And it is this hate, which will drive her to seek revenge, to make someone pay for her pain. Sadly, the future generation of Americans will pay the heavy price for your war. They will be burdened with your guilt. They will be the ones to live in fear. That, Mr. President, is your legacy – your gift to the children of America.

We are almost upon the season of spring - a time for new life, for renewal of hope. Will there be a respite for Iraq after her long never ending winter of despair?

Perhaps some day in Iraq, the statues of Saddam that were toppled will be replaced by bronze statues of an American Mule – A GIANT ASS named George. A symbol of pretentious liberty and hope. Perhaps the children of Iraq will be allowed to indulge themselves in a game of “hitting the donkey”. For the sake of the children, I do hope this day comes and comes soon. Because it will mean that the sounds of war, violence and gunfire have been silenced by the joy and laughter of children. Peace and hope will be restored and children can dream once again of a future that you viciously robbed them off. And when that day comes Mr. President, Iraq will rejoice. I will rejoice. And the world will rejoice. It will be spring in Iraq.

The Tragedy of a Failed Experiment

2006-03-17T20:33:00.000Z

You have got to feel sorry for those 6 men who are now lying in a hospital, two of them, I believe, in a critical condition. They were human guinea pigs in a drug test that went horribly wrong. I can't comment on why things went so wrong for this particular experiment, as my information, comes from the same sources as most peoples, namely the media. No doubt investigations are under way and questions are being raised about the manner in which the trial was conducted and why things went so horribly pear shaped. I feel for these men and their families because they have an agonising journey of uncertainty, which will carry on long after this story fades off the news radar.

The drug that they were trialling does not have a name yet, it is simply calledTGN 1412 which is one in series of drugs that scientists hoped would be a cure for a number of diseases including cancer. Unfortunately the whole thing had a catastrophic outcome and it has once again raised the debate on human and animal medical trials.

I've been thinking about what motivates people to loan their bodies to science. I came up with the advancement of knowledge, the selfless act of being part of a process that will provide a better opportunity for future generations. And I guess for some people, the offer of monetary compensation.

For whatever the reasons, if it weren't for people volunteering to be part of scientific research and experimentation, a lot of us wouldn't have the prolonged quality of life that we do today. Despite being made aware of the possibility of fatalities and errors, they are still willing to participate. It is thanks to these human guinea pigs, that we have new medicines. Testing on animals alone is not a valid measure of accuracy in drug exploration as the human body may pick up potential problems that are not seen in animals. Experimentation on humans is therefore vital to scientific research and we cannot discount the fact that millions of lives have been saved as a result of it.

There is always goings to be risks when it comes to experimentation. But, I'm sure that members of the scientific community as well as those that have previously volunteered for clinical trials of drugs will testify that almost all these trials are held in controlled environments, done with adherence to extremely strict requirements and regulations, and have for the most part been quite successful.

While I will freely admit that I am neither selfless nor brave enough to volunteer my time or body for scientific research, I do salute those brave souls that do. One can only hope that tragedies like this do not repeat themselves.

PC = Political Correctness or Policed Control?

2006-03-11T14:34:00.000Z

I came across a newspaper article recently which talked about how toddlers at the Sure Start nursery in Oxfordshire are being taught a revised, politically correct version of an old nursery rhyme. Instead of "Baa,Baa, black sheep", the children now ask the "Rainbow Sheep" if the gender non-specific animal, has any wool. I couldn't help roll my eyes in disgust as I though here we go again, yet another classic example of Political Correctness gone mad.

Over the last few months, all we seem to read about has to do with being politically correct. Christmas is now the "Festive Season", Christmas lights are now "Winter Lights", Chairman and Chairwomen are now "Chairpersons", Short is now "vertically challenged", Piggy banks are now to be replaced by "money banks", Black coffee is now "coffee without milk", Mixed race is now "dual heritage", the list is endless. All this, because of the fear that it, may offend certain sections of minority communities.

What surprises me about this perceived offence, in most instances of political correctness, is that very seldom do you hear the minority communities actually come out and say that they are offended. Quite frankly, I think it is always other people like politicians, overly fanatical religious leaders, some sections of the media all with their own personal agendas who blow things out of proportion and dictate that these communities should be offended. The truth is that they usually aren't. I mean, the average Muslim for example, is perfectly content living his life, practising his religion and he really does not give a damn that you ate bacon for breakfast. The average bald man does not want to be called "follically challenged" and I, who am as brown as cocoa, do not object to the song "brown girl in the ring".

The obsession with being politically correct is quite honestly overstretching the elasticity on tolerance, as the background on almost every phrase is being minutely scrutinised to ensure that it is not offensive. What I find quite patronising and unsettling in many ways, is the assumption that a particular minority group is unable to decide for themselves what constitutes offence and what does not. Isn’t this itself, an insult to the intelligence of the very people they are supposedly protecting?

We are meant to be living in a democracy. It does make me wonder, then, whether these self-appointed watchdogs on political correctness, have nothing better to do with their time. Who are these fools anyway? What gives them the right to decide what is offensive to a group of people? And why do they feel it necessary to inhibit personal freedom of speech and replace it with an insidious and rabid ideological creed that we are all supposed to readily embrace? This is not political correctness; it is a blatant attack on the right of free speech, clear thinking and discussion.

What purpose does political correctness achieve? Not a lot really. If the argument, for being politically correct is that it will reduce discrimination and prejudice, then those that advocate it are seriously deluded. Inherent prejudices will always exist no matter what. No amount of "word -disguises" or "wrapping up" will change that. There will always, be jokes for example about “dumb blonds” or “Irishmen” or “big-breasted” women or “Catholics”. If people have a prejudice, they will express it, no matter how much one tries to camouflage it.

If there is anything, that political correctness achieves, it is that, it succeeds in segregating and marginalising people. Quite often it also tends to play host to what I call the “Victim Compensation” bandwagons. These are people who use every given opportunity they can to make the rest of us compensate them for their supposed victim status. It’s a pity no one bothers to teach them that along with their “rights”, they also have wider “responsibilities”. But oh no, this point is all so often discounted. As are the views of majority of people within a minority group who really don’t want a “pity party” and would much rather gain a place of recognition in society, not for being victims but through their sheer hard work and merit.

I am all for equal opportunity, but one has to draw the line at the unnecessary enforcement of compromised and restrictive address just to appease a few bruised egos. Self-examination and tolerance are duties of a responsible society. But when these come at the cost of repression of freedom of speech and though, then it is not political correctness, it is political bigotry.

No one raises so much as an eyebrow when generally offensive, abusive swearwords are used in everyday conversation, on movies screens and television. But mention an innocent phrase like “dark as the night” and we are all supposed to be horrified. Perhaps if we spent less time teaching ourselves and our children about “rainbow sheep” and instead concentrated on reviving good values, morals, manners and respect, then common-sense and decency will prevail and we won’t be subject to being told to “mind our language”.

Sensationally Sinatra

2006-03-04T17:09:00.000Z

If there is one person I've always had a MASSIVE CRUSH on, it's been Ol' Blue Eyes himself, Mr. Frank Sinatra. My Dad first introduced me to his music as a young girl and I've been smitten ever since. There is just something in his charming smile, the twinkling of his eyes, that breathtakingly rich voice that that makes me go weak at the knees, and generally gush like most teenaged girls do. The problem is that:
a): I am no longer a teenager and
b): Sinatra is no longer among the living (well at least not physically anyways).
Yet, despite the obvious obstacle, my love for him has not diminished. Of course my dream of seeing him perform live was shattered the day he died in 1998.

But, when I was given the opportunity to see Sinatra at the Palladium yesterday, I seized it with a great degree of enthusiasm. You must think I've truly lost the plot now. See Sinatra at the Palladium, but how? He's dead. Well, thanks to the ground-breaking and creative use of the latest digital film and stage technology and £5 million worth of production money, he has been resurrected and is making his latest, greatest and most ambitious comeback at London's West End.

Although, nothing can beat a live performance, this production was not just cleaver and creative, it was electrifying, engaging and you could feel his presence in the room. It was pretty impressive. The creative and ambitious use of cutting edge technology allowed Sinatra to sing directly to us and walk along a series of backgrounds. With his usual swagger and style, he sure looked like he "owned the joint".

The basic idea of the show was to have Sinatra tell his story from childhood to Superstardom and beyond with interviews from the legend himself. And tell it…he did. We were treated to a rare collection of never before seen performances from the Sinatra family's private collection. This was broadcast on 20 foot screens. Sinatra belted out seemingly live performances of favourites like Fly Me to the Moon, I've got you Under My Skin, Come Fly With Me, Pennies from Heaven, New York New York, That’s Life etc. He was aided by a lively 24-piece orchestra and an entertaining cast of dancers and singers - some of whom performed duets with the legend.

Sinatra spoke about his family, his women, and his “chums” in the famous Rat Pack, and people he looked up to like Bing Crosby, Humphrey Bogart etc. Had he still been alive, he would have celebrated his 90th birthday
on the 12th of December 2005.

I could not help but reminisce and hum along to the tunes of this "swell guy". Sinatra will always be a legend who will be remembered for “doing it HIS WAY”. And I, will always be the girl whose “got a crush, Mr. Sinatra on you”, coz “your sensational, sensational….that’s all”.

Preaching the Gospel of Appreciation

2006-03-02T15:50:00.000Z

I saw a teenager on the bus this morning. She seemed as "Happy as Larry" and was smiling and singing along to the tunes on her i-pod. She was drop dead gorgeous with a slim, petite frame, beautiful wide set eyes and a smile, full of the warmth of the summer sun. She was perfect in all aspects except one - she was missing an arm.

But, as she smiled at me, I realised, that while she may have lacked physical perfection, she had something that most of us could only envy. She had a supreme appreciation of the elementary joys of life, something I had long forgotten. And in that flashing instant, I was humbled.

Ever since that chance encounter this morning, I've been forced to sit back and reminisce on the many blessings in life. I'm embarrassed to say, that I've taken a lot of things for granted and have failed miserably in the fine art of acknowledging life's little pleasures.

We've all experienced tender moments like singing in the rain, being among people we love who love us back in return, being on a beach and laughing as the sand tickles our toes, strolling in the moonlight. It is all these precious moments that truly enrich us.

Why then, do we shelve them aside in corners of our mind where they are long forgotten? They are but fleeting moments, like blazing comets that fade away in the twinkling of an eye. Sadly, most often, we blink and completely miss them.

We are just so wrapped up in seeking further self-gratification. We seem to be always on the move, rushing to keep up with time, to race against time, to beat time. And in all of that time, we forget to simply pause, take a breath, to ponder and to smell the proverbial daises.

So, my friends, if you are reading this today, stop for a moment, take in a breath and treasure and celebrate the unembellished joys of life. You will feel richer for it.

I'm going to leave you with one of my favourite childhood poems, Leisure by W.H. Davies.

Leisure

- W.H. Davies

WHAT is this life if, full of care,We have no time to stand and stare?-
No time to stand beneath the boughs,And stare as long as sheep and cows:
No time to see, when woods we pass,Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass:
No time to see, in broad daylight,Streams full of stars, like skies at night:
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,And watch her feet, how they can dance:
No time to wait till her mouth canEnrich that smile her eyes began?
A poor life this if, full of care,We have no time to stand and stare.

Coffee with Seven Brides, Seven Brothers, Morse and Lewis

2006-02-25T18:39:00.000Z

I woke up to a blinding ray of sunshine this morning and I thought it would be a wonderful and warm day. God knows, after the last few bitterly cold days we’ve had, a bit of warmth from the sun would be really good.

Someone should have hit me on the head to remind me that we are in winter still and that the sun is deceptive. Of course, the reminder only came when I left the house to go to the gym and discovered that it was not just sunny, but cold and windy. In short, it was freezing.

So when I got back home, there was really not a lot else to do, besides curl up like a lounge lizard and watch some telly. I caught a bit of “Seven Brides for Seven Brothers”, which I think is one of the most brilliant musicals ever made. That barn dance is one scene I’ll never tire off.

After that, I made myself a cup of steaming coffee and sat down to watch Inspector Morse and his sidekick Lewis attempt to solve another wonderfully scripted murder.

The story today was called “Happy Families” and was about a business tycoon who gets murdered. His wife and sons come under suspicion. Things get sticky as the sons get murdered not long after. Morse is targeted by the tabloid press who label him incompetent and he also clashes with a new chief superintendent. The good inspector was definitely having a bad week. Of course he eventually figured it out and had the last word.

I love John Thaw as most people do and his portrayal of Morse is quite superb. Morse with his love of classical music brought such refinement to the screen. Also I think Kevin Whatley as Lewis compliments him perfectly.

Sadly John Thaw died from cancer in 2002. There will be no new series of Morse, but he left us with episodes full of memories and they aren’t going anywhere.

7 times 7 is not necessarily 49

2006-02-21T17:39:00.000Z

So I've been tagged by my cousin Mark, which means that I've got to continue this tradition of 7 sevens and tag some other poor soul.

7 things to do before I die

Travel to as many places as I can afford
Learn to swim properly and swim with the dolphins
Learn to ride a horse
Go on a safari
Win the Lottery and retire early.
Stay forever young (in spirit and mind if not in body)
Learn to speak French fluently

7 things I cannot do

Grow taller
Shower in my local gym (you'd be repulsed if you see what I see)
Swim
Sing professionally...I'll stick to singing in the bath.
Play a musical instrument (I'd love to learn how to play the guitar)
Go on a diet
Go into the Gents Loo

7 things that attract me to London

Family
The easy accessibility to the rest of Europe
The parks and wide open spaces within the city
The transport network. its' amazing when it works.
The weather (come on. It could be worse)
The multicultural population and cuisine
The Waitangi Day pub crawl

7 things I often say

"Hello! Kim speaking, how may I help you".
It's Valladares V...a..ll...a..d...a...r...e...s
" Hey cuz...what's the buzz"
"Do you have a minute?. I need to ask you something"
"Guess what?"
" er...I think so"
" haven't a clue mate"

7 books that I love

Mister God, this is Anna by Fynn
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran
The Old Man and the Sea, Ernest Hemingway
Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom
Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austin
Oliver Twist and David Copperfield, both by Charles Dickens

7 Movies I could watch over and over

High Society ( the musical with Grace Kelly, Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Louis Armstrong)
Grease
Pride and Prejudice (the BBC version...come on, Colin Firth is amazing)
Sister Act 2
Bangkok Hilton (it's a Nicole Kidman, mini series)
Bridget Jones Diary (I love that kooky chick plus it's got Colin Firth)
Shrek 1 & 2

7 People & more that I love...this replaces the 7 people that I cannot think off to tag

My Family - Mum, Dad, War and Tan
The kiddies - Tamara, Sasha, Imogen and Lucas
My Favourite Aunts Ann and Annette
My Favourite Uncles Daz (he's my 7th favourite...it's a family joke), Richie and Ainsley
All my cousins, specially Dylan, Mark, Kirk, Ryan and Darlene
My best friend J
My close circle of friends from our time at St. Xavier’s College, Mumbai. We are still in touch.

Manic Monday.....Grizzly Bear on the loose

2006-02-20T17:30:00.000Z

I hate Monday mornings. It usually is the worst time for me, particularly being the start of the working week. I usually find that I am always having to hurry on a Monday to get to work on time. This morning I decided to get up a bit earlier so that I'd have enough of time to myself before rushing out the door. It would have all gone smoothly except for the fact that Murphy's Law really came to play today and the result has been a disastrous day in general.

I left the house at about the usual time, but then returned about 5 minutes later as I realised that I had left my travel card behind. So that trip cost me a few minutes. I was lucky to be dropped off to my local railway station and I stood at the platform and waited and waited and waited....but there wasn't a train in sight.

Then after a good 10 minutes, the announcement came " Owing to a problem at Stanmore, all Jubilee line services are severely delayed. Please seek alternative transportation". So along with a 100 other disgruntled commuters, I hopped on to a bus to Wembley Park where I caught the Metropolitan Line headed to Aldgate.

Things were going pretty smoothly and according to plan when one of the passengers on board hit the emergency button sometime between Wembley and Finchley Road, prompting the driver to halt at Finchley and conduct an investigation. So naturally, we were stalled for a while. I finally got off at Liverpool Street, but my journey was far from over. I had to change tube lines and caught a Central Line train to Bank Station where I took the DLR (Docklands Light Railway) to Canary Wharf where I work. I was late and a bit grumpy because I had not had my morning intake of caffeine.

Work was no better as it has been absolutely manic. I only managed 5 minutes to grab at bite at about 4pm. Needless to say I'm as sore as a grizzly. I hope this is not an indication of how the rest of the week will be, because I really don't fancy being grumpy bear for much longer.

I’m off to get me a coffee now and hopefully I’ll come back smiling.

One for the Curry Munchers

2006-02-17T16:52:00.000Z

The way to my heart, quite literally is through my stomach. I love food, and judging from my chubby cheeks you can tell that it is one of my passions. I consider myself a pretty decent cook and an enthusiastic eater.

I'm not too fussed when it comes to food. However, I draw the line at internal organs like heart, brain, eyes, balls etc. I'm sure that there are loads of people who relish these delicacies. I, am just not of them. To me, the very notion of consuming internals is repugnant to the point of being nauseating.

Travelling is a great way to sample the delicacies of other countries. During my travels, I have sampled, a variety of ethnic cuisines like Thai, French, Spanish, Chinese, New Zealand, Italian, English and Middle Eastern. I've also tasted game like Ostrich. Now Ostrich is not for the faint hearted as it is a really strong tasting bird. I think it is a bit of an acquired taste to be honest. You either love it or you don't. I did not.

My eldest cousin Mark, is quite the globe trotter and he has sampled a variety of food including meat like lama and kangaroo which he says are particularly tasty. I'm hoping that my travels across Europe and beyond over the next few years will allow me to sample some great new things.

No matter what I taste, I find myself particularly partial to a good curry. It must be the Indian in me. There is nothing quite like a well prepared curry particularly one that is handed down over the generations and prepared with as much flavour and zest as it deserves. There are a number of good cooks within my family and so I've been lucky to enjoy curries that were not just palatable but distinctly superior.

Since the curry culture has caught on in a big way, I though I'd share a simple recipe with you all. This one is for Egg Curry. It's easy to prepare. Try it and let me know what you think.

Ingredients :

6 Eggs, 2 tablespoons of oil, 2 medium onions, finely chopped, 3 cloves of garlic finely chopped, 2 teaspoons of finely grated ginger, 3 teaspoons of ground coriander, 2 teaspoons of ground cumin, 1 teaspoon of ground tumeric, ½ teaspoon of chilli powder, 2-3 ripe tomatoes, diced, ½ teaspoon of garam masala (all spice powder), a little hot water and salt to taste.

Method :
· Hard boil the eggs.
· Cool quickly under running cold tap, shell, halve and set aside.
· Heat ghee or oil and fry onions, garlic and ginger until soft and golden brown.
· Add coriander, cumin, turmeric and chili and fry for a few seconds.
· Then add tomatoes and salt and stir over medium heat until tomatoes are soft and pulpy.
· Add hot water, cover and simmer until gravy is thick.
· Stir in garam masala and the halved eggs and heat through.
· Serve with rice

Friday Night Fever

2006-02-13T12:13:00.000Z

On Friday night, I re-discovered my dancing shoes as I joined my friends in a club. I must confess that it had been ages since I went clubbing and when my friend Sally invited me to join her group of mates for an evening out, I accepted readily and I'm not sorry because I had a really great time.

The first stop was at Sally's because it was the first anniversary that she and her flatmate Kathy had been in their current flat in Willesden Green. There I met a truly eclectic and fun loving bunch of people like Dave, Nathan, Kathy, Goff and a lovely young couple (sorry I can't remember their names). The club was called the Good Ship in Kilburn and the DJ was known to the girls. The music was lively and the so was the spirits. At the club were were joined by the other friends Flavio, Jason, Kristine and her partner, Lalee and Sam. I spent most of the time on the dance floor with them all.

Sal says that these are her closest friends and I can see why. There is not just a bond of friendship here, they are like family. They all take care of each other so well. There were a couple of weirdos who tried to chat us up and one was very persistant with Sal, but they did not stand a chance as the the group protected us from any unwanted advances.

We also met a French sailor who was nice enough to talk to but as the evening grew, he seemed to be in quite a state. But as Flavio discovered he had just lost his sister and being alone in London did not know how else to grieve so he was drowing his sorrows in alcohol. Very tragic. London can be a harsh place particularly in the winters and if you are lonely in London, it is terrible. Fortunately for me, I'm surrounded by people I know and love.

Yours truly returned at the same time the cows came home, very happy and ready for an encore!

“KiaOra & Cheers Mate" ( Waitangi Day Pub Crawl)

2006-02-07T16:23:00.000Z

The unsuspecting travellers on London's Circle Line train on Saturday, must have thought they were stuck in the middle of a big Mardi Gras celebration. In reality, this was a much better party.....the celebration of Waitangi Day, antipodean’s style. For those that don't know, Waitangi Day is the anniversary of the signing of the treaty of Waitangi between the Maori and the Crown, symbolising a unification of the New Zealand people.

Although a bit controversial and political back home , there were no signs of divide here in London as thousands of patriotic homesick Kiwis came together to celebrate the joy and uniqueness of being New Zealanders.

It's not entirely clear when this grand tradition of the circle line pub crawl actually began. According to the TNT magazine, it was somewhere around 1976, when a group of Kiwis (not to be outdone by the Aussie’s celebration of Australia Day a week before Waitangi Day) came up with the brilliant idea of doing a pub crawl along the circle line and this was the beginning of what has now escalated to possibly the largest organised pub crawl in the world.

The Circle Line choice is obvious because it loops around the city. The crawl moves en masse in a counter-clockwise direction with stops all along the route at pubs near the stations. The object is to drink half a pint in a pub at each of the 27 stops along the circle route. Interestingly enough, the kiwis re-name the stations along the way after famous NZ towns and cities for e.g. Paddington was Auckland, Bayswater was Tauranga, Temple was Bluff, High Street Kensington was Napier and so on.

At some point, perhaps in the early 80’s someone started to do a hakka at Westminster and since then every year, when Big Ben strikes 4pm, thousands of men strip off their shirts, and brave the cold, to do a mass hakka outside Parliament Square, while the rest cheer on.

This year the kiwis flocked in their thousands like sheep (some were even dressed like them) to the pubs. There was singing and general merriment as the crowds spilled out of the pubs and into the streets. I was privileged to be part of the grand tradition. I went solo but returned after having made some really nice mates…..like Sally, Mila, Denise, Jo etc (hope to catch up with you soon.)

The stations were packed and at one point they shut down Sloane Square because there were just too many of us there and the station could not cope. So then, began a frantic road race to get to Westminster in time for the hakka. The square was triumphant in Black (what other colour could did you expect us to wear??) and the NZ flag was everywhere. There were even two fellas dressed up as Sumo Wrestlers with the flag proudly draped across them. And, of course, from there the party just continued on to the rest of the stops.

One of the really good things was that although there were a lot of legless kiwis (some several feet deep), no one actually misbehaved. Yes, there was the traditional booing of District Line trains and there was a lot of loud singing and shouting, but there was no hooliganism or violent behaviour that is normally seen when large crowds gather to celebrate. Everyone was just there have a good time and celebrate the day. Even the Metropolitan Police on patrol seemed to be enjoying the moment. Some even happily posed for pictures. It truly was an enjoyable event.

So if you are in London next year on the first Saturday in February, hop on the Circle Line, leave your groceries, and inhibitions aside and join in the adventure.

Much Ado About Nothing...

2006-02-01T20:34:00.000Z

For those that don't know me at all....let me fess up and say that I'm a moaner. I'm always moaning about something. And today is no exception.

I'm moaning about something that may seem trivial and banal, but has made it to number one on my "list of things to moan about".It's about the whole dilemma of how to loose weight in the quickest and most effective manner (read PAINLESS). While I am not grossly fat... I do think I’m gloriously chubby and although that does not really cause people to stand and stare, it does make me want to do something about shedding all the unwanted lard. The other and more pressing need for me to loose weight is because I have to fit into a dress and look totally ravishing for a big wedding in December. And thus begins my battle of the bulge.

For months now I have agonised over my options.
Do I opt for:
* the tried, tested and failed diets - wont' work because I’m far too lazy to stick to a diet,
* the wonder pills, slim shakes - they taste horrible and I've been there and done that
* do I go with the dreaded sessions in the gym?

The idea of committing to a set program of exercises requires, in my opinion, not just willpower but sheer dedication (Read... Blood, Sweat and Toil). However, since it is the healthiest of all the options, I have decided to give it a go.

Secretly, I wish that old hag of a fairy godmother would hurry up, wave her magic wand and transform me into a "Timeless, Age-defying Goddess". Of course in a world full of Cinderella to Princess wannabees, she's probably inundated with requests (i.e. if she's figured out how to read her emails) . Quite honestly, the chances of her visiting me...Pumpkin, Rats, Glass Slippers, Prince, and all....are about as far-fetched as the chances of Bush and Bin Laden performing a duet of "That's what friends are for".

So with reality firmly in check, I marched off on Friday to join my local gym. Any apprehensions I had about "not fitting in" were soon dispelled by a lovely trainer at the gym who took me through the whole sales pitch and before I knew it, I had bought into the garbage and signed up for membership. The fact that he also resembled a Greek God had nothing whatsoever to do with it all(yeah right). Am I right to assume then, that it must be a USP for all businesses and services to use "attractive bait" to get their easy target hooked?

Anways, I left the gym that evening with a bag full of gym goodies and a promise that by the end of the year my body (and therefore my life) would be dramatically transformed. Now having paid a lot of money and not wanting to chicken out, I decided to show up for my first induction session. Much to my sheer disappointment, my induction was with a really UNACCTRACTIVE trainer. What a daft twit I am, for assuming the Greek God would be waived in front of me. They got my money. His job was done. Being a virtual gym virgin( I've only been about 3-4 times in my life) I listened attentively and won some praise for "being a quick and natural learner"...whatever that means. By the time we finished I had visions of me doing it all in a breeze. That's what praise and motivation does to you.

On Sunday, I went back to the gym. It's important to keep up the momentum, or so I told myself. Right, a check of all my gym gear.
* Gym bag - Check
* Stylish gym water bottle - Check
* Earphones for the TV/Radio - Check
* Gym sweat towel - Check.

Hurrah! I am gym queen, warmed up, ready and rearing to go. The treadmill is where I decide to start...it seems like a harmless machine....easy peasy. I can do this no problemo. I was instructed to start at just 5 minutes, so as not to overexert or shock my body too much. So I stepped up to the machine and then it proceeded to ask me a whole set questions:
* My Age
* My Weight
* The programme I want - cardio, fat burn, Fitness, Manual
* The incline
* The speed
By the time I answered all of that, it felt like I had been exercised. I reckon I lost a bit of weight on my fingers from answering all those questions.

I did however stick to my routine and an hour and a half later emerged from the gym with a sense of pride....and a really sore pair of legs and arms and muscles that I did not know I had. The plan is to ignore the niggling aches and pains...the first week blues as they call it and to keep going to the gym ......and so I've been diligently going on Monday, Tuesday and ....yes, I made it there today and I exercised, but I'm too damn tired to tell you all about it right now.

Welcome to my World

2006-02-01T17:15:00.000Z

Hi Everyone

Welcome to my world...I'm Kim Valladares - a lovable but very dippy bird, a bit of a dreamer, a sparkling gypsy and all round eccentric really.

For a long time now I've been secretly intrigued by this whole world of blogging. After having read my cousin Mark's blog, I've been toying with the idea of dabbling in this whole blog scene. I think it's a case of the old adage "tired of looking in from the outside and wanting to be on the inside". Well, you get my drift don't you?

The idea that someone may chance upon my blog and attempt to read the ramblings of a lunatic like myself is not just inconceivable, but also vaguely amusing. However, I'm told that stranger things do exist. so I'll just have to wait and watch....and of course ramble on.