PS - I love you

I read a really interesting article the other day about mother / daughter relationships …the woman you love to hate… or something like that. Can’t remember the exact title but I’m sure you can get the gist of it. We love our mom’s in our mid-20’s onwards and hate them with equal intensity in our teens. Natural order of things…and not one of my many idiosyncrasies…

New beginnings….
I want to write about my mom, aka, affectionately called manna (from heaven) by friends and family. She’s just about to embark on a journey, a journey that’s taken a lot of courage, fortitude and kamikaze instincts to persue. No, she’s not having a baby girl; my mum is going back to college! The clocks ticking, she’s starting her masters in Women’s studies at Rice University in the US of A on the 4th of January 2010. One small step for mom and a giant leap for mother kind in their mid-50’s. Life’s not over mommies, its just beginning! You can be who you want to be, when you want and where you want to be..Take a leaf out of my mum’s book.

Its been a hard decision for her to make, imagine up-rooting yourself, moving to a new country, learning how to use Windows 7, making friends all over again, leaving your comfort zone behind and all this , alone… I’m so proud of you mom!

Mum’s who stare at goats…
Forget about telepathic viewing and the new earth army...Enter the mom squad...Mum’s with daughters are probably the best equipped to face anything, maybe there should be a training course for the special forces run by mum’s on how to attack and torture without killing, drawing confessions with a single killer look… titled how to survive raging psycho’s..

A well deserved bollocking…
Creeping back home at all hours of the night and seeing the living room lights on…Oh! Oh!...you know what that meant..Make sure clothes are in place, mints in the mouth, traces of anything incriminating (and boy in those days everything was) are removed…defiance in place…ok, lets face the music… God, how I hated the calls demanding when I was going to get home…cut to 2006, Arshia stressing because Guillaume hasn’t called to tell her he’s ok.
I tend to forget sometimes that I don’t know best…and I’m so glad my mum keeps reminding me that my 30 something years of ‘living’ is nothing compared to 50 plus years of ‘experiencing’ ..
I guess we’ve finally reached an age where we listen and not hear them out, and it amazes me how she knows everything I’ve been up to, even though I thought I was being oh so subtle and smart …ha,ha,ha…another lesson learned. Mum’s are all knowing and all seeing…The pieces of mind (advice) I got the other night are probably worth months of therapy and strips of Prozac.Thanks mom for saving the UK Govt a fortune in health care! You deserve a purple cross for that.

John of arc
Courage, fortitude, integrity and humour….Few of the many things I’ve learnt from my mommy…after raising two girls and a boy plus umpteen moody dogs. Add masochism to the list and you’ve just described my brother…who I’m so proud to say is one of the most solid and dependable people on earth, no surprises after growing up in a family of girls and having to survive the tears, screaming matches and PMS. Then he goes and buys himself a female puppy after all that …martyr…hmmm…perhaps.

Deportation…
My cousin Farah and I were not easy girls to raise...my brother, well he's always been pretty low maintenance and I like to think he benefited from being ignored. If you’ve read my blog, I guess you can imagine that I’m not the most simple of people. Add rebellion, individualism and self-destructive instincts to that…welcome to my life! Which is probably why I got expelled from college and then subsequently deported to the UK by my mum. That must have been the hardest decision to make, because it could have gone either way…imagine sending a rather de-ranged teen away to a country where’s she’s totally unsupervised, where everything is allowed and that to, to persue an education…Did I mention my mum’s a gambler too? That’s probably what saved my life….and thank you mum for that and all the times you bailed me out financially…

Awards and rewards..
Cut to 1996…my mum’s been nominated business woman of the year! There we are, my brother and I, at the awards ceremony in New Delhi, watching my mum receiving her award from the chief minister of the state. What a proud moment…and there have been so many of those mom. You are an inspiration and my bench mark in everything I do…Cut to 2006, Arshia receives an award for a campaign, and all she can think of is, I hope I’ve made my mom proud!

Escapism 1.1
My mom loves doing cross words…maybe all mom’s love doing cross words. Perhaps its got something to do with having that one hour to yourself, when its ok to be dead to the world, including complaining kids…Escapism 1.1

Phone bills from hell…
Note to self…install skype on every computer in the house, when you have brats of your own. Remember hours of clinging on to the phone whispering sweet nothings to boy friends or gossiping with girl friend who you’ve met an hour ago and spent the whole day with? Guess who foot the bill? and spent hours trying to get through becasue there was just one phone line in the house...Remember phone calls from every part of the world asking mom to call back so you can have a long rant, melt down or spend hours silent just becasue you don't 'feel' like talking? God shoot the person who invented ‘collect calls’ and yes I do believe in karma. It is going to come back to bite me in the ass, I can almost feel the teeth marks...

Learning to like ‘alone’
I can think back to my mum watching TV eating dinner by herself when the prodigal child returns from a night out in the town, even though she’s just back for a couple of weeks of vacation…I guess its not hard when you’ve been alone for so long, because the most important thing in your life are making sure your children are ok and that’s all that’s ever mattered over and above all else. Thank you mum for teaching me generosity…and you have so much of that…

I can go on forever, the list if endless, so many memories and so much more to look forward to. All I want to say to my mum and mum’s everywhere is that we love you and respect you for everything you are…, there are times that you’ve felt like you could have done things differently, but look around you, your children are a tribute to you, all we aspire to is to be like you…

Good luck mummy! Make me proud yet again!

I sparkle…you shine…

‘Picture yourself in a boat on a river,
With tangerine trees and marmalade skies.
Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly,
A girl with kaleidoscope eyes’

Floating on a surf board in the middle of the ocean, communing with the sky… I feel insignificant…like a speck in the universe. The enormity of creation and the part I play in it is both humbling and awe inspiring says… Is this heaven?....

Sitting on the top of a hill watching fields of plowed earth extending into the horizon, the tilled mud undulating like the waves in the ocean….eddiing and flowing….Colours so bright they nearly blind me…Nature talks to me, I feel your energy coursing through my veins, the viberations swallow me…Sight becomes sound and sound becomes sight…I am, what I’ve become…I am stripped bare, the walls are gone, my reality vs. ‘the’ reality becomes rubble at my feet. I take a journey down through my subconscious… I find honesty. I challenge my demons, I vanquish them or be vaniquished and you know what? It’s ok to be swallowed up by me…I am aware, I am a God….

Follow her down to a bridge by a fountain,
Where rocking horse people eat marshmallow pies.
Everyone smiles as you drift past the flowers,
That grow so incredibly high.

The sun’s rising…I whisper to Ra…the angels singing…I hear them as clearly as I feel the breath in my body…exhale... I’m sitting on the top of a hill, the universe before me …I am one, I am all…I see you, I see through you…I feel you …I feel your goodness, your gratitude,..you are a miracle of creation….surround me, with your love…understand me, I need you now… you appear before me naked …my reality is our reality…We connect…we flow in unison…I don’t have to be who I need to be…You’re spirit touches mine, our energy is one…Is this what it means to find yourself? Does it mean finding you?

‘Picture yourself on a train in a station,
With plasticine porters with looking glass ties.
Suddenly someone is there at the turnstile,
The girl with kaleidoscope eyes’

I make love through you …I’m alone, I’m with you…Its warm here, its dark and I’m not afraid. I’ve known you all my life…you are my beautiful freak, my lover, my angel, my friend…I open to you, I surrender…without pride…I’m willing…I’m yours. You embrace me…I feel safe, we’re equals …you’re my master..you supplicate to me…I consume you….Take me…I am you, you are me…

Lucy in the sky with diamonds,
Lucy in the sky with diamonds,
Lucy in the sky with diamonds,
Ah... Ah...

The music ends…you walk away…I miss you…I’m glad to see you go….I’m with you, you’re in me…a last encore and then you’re gone…

{CHORUS REPEATED AND FADED}

I’m Indian and I’m …(still trying to figure it out)..

Don’t feed the lift man...
On my list of the most mind numbing, soul destroying careers in the world, the first place goes to the most boring profession in the world…the lift man. Imagine if all you ever did all day was sit or stand in a lift and press buttons for people all day? That’s what the lift man does…did I say ALL DAY? You have these poor souls in every building in ever Indian city. Except the British high commission in New Delhi according to a trusted source, who shall not be named, who's informed me that there's a notice in the lift saying that if you ever feel ‘panicly’ when stuck in the lift, to call the lift man...hmmm.... And yes this is in the British high commission, was the English language invented in 'the' England? Suspect?

We are like this only…
No ya, yes da, why ra, how yaar, yes no, like that only, go man….that how it is I say. Welcome to Indian English or Indish as its commonly known. Want to emphasize a point? Then don’t forget to stress on the verb thrice …I ate,ate,ate i.e I ate a lot. Not all communication needs to be verbal ... we don’t very handy when you dont like saying No to anything, even though you have no intention of ever doing it.The solution, An ear to shoulder movement of the head, on both sides which could mean yes, no or maybe. Its up to you to figure our what or just give it some time and you’ll find out for yourself…

Ever heard of IST? Indian standard time…which basically means GMT +1 …in lay men’s terms, the time you agreed to meet plus one hour…because that’s how long it will take for us to get there..Punctuality? whats that yaar? the new pub down the street?

We love talking especially in deafening decibel levels even though in a country of 1.8 billion you're bound to be heard by some one or something. Yelling on the phone is normal too, its only because it’s a long distance call...the louder the voice the further the distance… It’s a big country for God’s sake…


Vite, vite, vite (fast, fast,fast)
Urban angst…something we all suffer from when we live in big cities. We’re all hamsters running like crazy in our little wheels…getting on with the business of living…and yes, there is such a thing as instant gratification. We want things to happen fast! After all who knows whether we’re going to be around tomorrow…fatalism 1.1. We tend to extend this mind set to everything we do, including relationships,the basis of our existence...Welcome to the ‘arranged marriage’ a timeless Indian institution and the crux of every self respecting Bollywood script. It all starts off with identifying the puppy you want from the litter, then comes the photograph...pass the shallow test then its step two, the first meeting...usually with the whole family around...does what it says on the pack... Congratulations, you've made it to level 3... e-mailing and talking for about a month or so. It goes pretty quickly from there, so lets collapse 4 and 5 into one...getting engaged in the third month and married in month 6. After all, why waste time? The couple have their whole lives to get to know each other so why bother with the niceisities? After all the price is right. Pedigree paper checks... done. purity..in place,horoscope...checked and matched. family income situation and bank balance... investigated. Family connections, ratified…, reputation ...savory ..what more do you need anyways. All engines are go!

Now extend that to relationships. You meet someone today, fall in love tomorrow, you’re ‘going around’ in a week and playing happy families soon after… why bother playing the cat and mouse game when everything s going to be cloak and dagger anyways? Its not like you’ll be ever allowed to be seen together in public, live together, go on holidays, stay over etc etc…Its going to be pretty rare having time together in the same post code and you can forget about taking the car for a test drive …you’ll need to take your chances with that one …time is of the essence my friends, in everything we do…except that...S.E.X! Relationships are all important especially with friends and family…the mantra thats drilled into all of us...love me, love my baggage. Which is probably why all hell breaks lose if you're 'caught' i.e. the parents find out... you’re going to be walking up the aisle before you can say ‘Oh yes!’…If all else fails pull a Romeo and Juliet, lose the family honor and you’re chances of being accepted in society until the next scandal comes along and then kiss and make up once the first child is born

This probably explains why even after 7.65 years I’m still getting my head around the Western construct of relationships and courtship. The need to take things ‘slowly’ when in all likelihood you’re going be subjected to the crash test probably after the first couple of dates anyways… I’m guessing the ‘getting to know each other better’ refers to the neck upwards then? Perhaps it’s all in the thrill of the chase because there’s less baggage to worry about…who cares if the parents hate you? You’re probably going to meet them when it’s too late…society, whats that?
So when do you let the barriers drop and whats wrong with being warm and open? Surely that’s a good thing and not a ‘clingy’ thing? When do you get to go to bed without make up on? When is it ok to be around him when you’re sick as a dog? When is it ok to land up at his place unannounced? When does it become ok to use his razor to shave your legs or not shave your legs at all, as the case may be? When is it ok to coo at babies and not have him panic and run a mile? When is it ok to automatically click the ‘2 adults’ button when booking a holiday which is 6 months away and not have to take a gamble or make a note to self to work extra hard to get that bonus because you’re going to need it to make up for the money you might lose?...So much to learn at the tender age of 30 something…You know what they say… Lucky in love, unlucky in cards…that’s probably why I make a fortune at cards…Vegas here I come!

An Indian awakening…

‘We’ve had enough, there’s only so much we can tolerate’ says my mum when I ask her about the ex- home minister getting grilled on national TV about his role… connivance… in the death of a model 19 years ago. Murdered by some top honcho who was never convicted…. I can’t help but applaud the Indian public for finally deciding to start fighting back. The mass media is choco-bloc with adds depicting anti-corruption story lines. I believe the trend went truly mass when movies like Raang de Basanti made it to the big screen…Bollywood, manna to the masses depicted a bunch of young men and women who decided to take matters into their own hands and fight corruption and all that is wrong with the Indian political system today…What an eye opener and acceptable by the common man? Well now that’s change baby!

Politicians are being publicly humiliated on national TV for miscarriages of justice and other nocturnal activities like cavorting with prostitutes while Rome burns. … Posters with public service messages regarding global warming, safety, drunk driving are more conspicuous then ever before…now all we need is for the change to percolate downwards through every strata of society, not just the burgeoning middle class, though it does have to start somewhere and never the sooner…Is this what the awakening of a collective conscience is all about? Bravo!
Dinner table conversations are around politics where young and old alike are openly critical of the rampant problems inherent in the system, religious violence, creation or non-creation of independent states, the failure of 'task forces' chaired by prominent business personalities who have failed in their...well tasks.. the need for change is palatable...we're informed and proud! Next step, action!
Its heartening to see that fatalism is no longer the answer to everything….when ‘it is written’ is not the standard explanation to everything. I wonder whats prompted this…is it the increasing affluence and spending power? Access to information and education? The opening up of the economy therefore greater awareness? What ever may be the case, lets not lose the momentum.
Being away for 8 years makes me feel like I’m stuck in a time warp because there are still so many things that amaze me, like the Chanel and Shishedo counters in departmental stores…how does the common man afford to pay 5000 rupees plus for a hand cream…40,000 rupees for a pair of shoes? Though when you do convert it to pounds, I wouldn’t blink an eye. Then there’s the social change..its no longer a taboo to date. Male and female relationships don’t have to be under the auspices of marriage. The silver screen is filled with images of scantily clad men and women gyrating to bass heavy tunes…is this the India that protested because of the swim suit round in the Miss World competition…hmmm, I don’t get it.Some things never change... like the institution of marriage...arranged marriages (the modern day equivalent is the ubiquitous dating site 'shaadi.com', which your parents are active on and not you) are a reality and divorce, while still an option is frowned upon...the upside, people work harder to make the relationship work, the down side, its very hard to meet someone once your on your own, if your a woman of course...not good for all those single ladies out there...
Walk into a book store, and there are a good number mushrooming everywhere, selling everything from books to beauty products, I'm struck by the number of business and self help books there are. The 'staff choice' section is stocked with books ranging from Eastern mystics, swami xyz's philosophy on life to management books on taking over the world. Then of course there's no escaping Indian authors..ranging from the classic cliches...red indian earth, starving farmers walking cattle home to the newest fad...page 3. Look hard and long and you might just find Adrian Mole tucked away on a shelf somewhere. Is it that we've forgotten how to laugh? Why is humor relegated to the bottom shelves? My theory, books are expensive if you decide to buy the bona fide copy from a book store and not a rip off, off the side streets then it better be something thats going to pay dividends...surely you'd be mad imaging that could possibly be a smile and a feeling of light heartedness...we're Indian we push harder, faster stronger than most...surely

Growing up in the India of the 80’s was a very different experience to the India of today. Was it better? Perhaps to an extent…worse…I wouldn’t really know considering I’m not in a position of experience. But what I do know that is the common man has opportunities today that he didn’t in the past. Society has become a lot more accepting…maybe because priorities have changed. Families are smaller and nuclear …labor if a lot more mobile, its ok for a single woman to move away from home to pursue a career. Foreign travel is common place, I love the fact that Indians are now welcomed with open arms in the Louis Vuitton and Feragammo show rooms world over…we no longer get the cold shoulder while shop assistants pander to our neighbors from the far East. In fact we can now travel with more than 100 USD which was the limit to the foreign exchange one could take outside the country…visas are still a night mare to get but perhaps not as a humiliating experience as they were in the past.
We’ve developed our own vocabulary…like pazta (pasta made with atta) nice one! Then you have the vegetarian hot dog…plus the standard fare of every south Indian restaranut the pitza. Indian Chinese…love it! Ever heard of a vegetarian ham burger? Well you have now! Cottage cheese kebabs? Lovely!
Dsylexy what ya? is a thing of the past...mental illnesses like OCD, ADD and depression are recognized as being what they are and not a sign of stupidity or laziness. We still don't have wheel chair access or disabled amenities but I'm sure we'll get there some day..step 1 build pavements so that people with all their facilities are able to navigate easily...then lets get to those who cant..

The existence of a dualism is not a truism, dichotomy is ever increasing..the rich are becoming richer and the poor, well, poorer. Wants are on the increase because there is so much more to want. I feel happy that there were no brands when I was growing up..status and social currency did not depend on the car you drove or the phone you carried. Those were the happy days to an extent. Satellite TV was still very new, we were probably one of the last homes in the neighborhood to get it..still don’t know why. Not everyone wanted to be a pop star or a model, we didn’t really have stars in our eyes at the time. Life was about friends, family and fun…Sony PSP? What the hell is that? A happier time…I don’t know…a more innocent time..hell yeah!

From Paris to the moon

My love affair with the most romantic city in the world began back in 1998, after listening to Kevin Klyne’s accent in ze movieee French kiss. I loved Meg Ryan’s hair…the sun glasses with the blue lenses, the whole girl next door look and the charming gallic man with the very sexy accent and a vini-yard in Bordeux…mon dieu! C’est tres romatique sigh! Then came Mr Adam Gopnik with his book from Paris to the Moon…boy did that change everything. Here was a true insight into life in Paris…an American living my dream. Boy I wanted it so bad I could almost smell it! Jardin Luxemborg with the merry go round which kids would ride while trying to spear a ring. Henri Cartier Bresson and his lovers kissing outside the Bon Marche…Place de la concorde and its gruesome history… Marianne in all her beauty…dinner at Zazou…Nutella ice cream at Amarinos...Le George the V with its exquisite flower decorations … Mont Marte with its bohemian memories … Aux Champs-Élysées, Au soleil, sous la pluie. À midi ou à minuit, Il y a tout ce que vous voulez, Aux Champs-Élysées…and of course the piece de resistance , the Tour Eiffel at night sparkling with a million fire flies…The stuff dreams are mad off. That’s gay Paris!

Yes white men can jump and moon walk too!
Cut to 2002, Bangalore….Girl out for a drink with girl friends. Totally oblivious to the world, especially the little man with the fancy moves standing at the bar. What ever! Back from the toilet and what do you see? The little man and his friend sitting at our table…why? Oh well, its one of those nights I guess. Didn’t quite get his name..think it sounds like a Guillermo…or did he say Gillano …not that it makes a difference to be honest. Buonne Notte to you Gilliano and hope to see you sometime in the future (yeah right).
What do you know it’s the Bob Dylan revival night..and who do we see there, its Gilliano and friend. Quelle surprise, Gilliano is actually Guillaume…a real life French man! I can hear Gary Moore singing in my head…Anyways, he’s leaving for Paris in 10 days, might as well enjoy him while I can…and yes French kissing was invented in France, non?
Day 15 and Guillaume is still here…nice one! Lets see where this goes.

January 2003…and the French adventure begins
Madame est Monseiur varlet, cordially invite you to the marriage of their son Guillaume Varlet to Arshia Basith, daughter of Iqbal and Irshad Basith at Speed Zone on January the 5th 2003. Trust me you don’t want to miss the party of the century

Life in the cocchinel - 14e
Bien venue Chez nous…Soixante sept Rue Didot …walk through the building, ring the bell and the door opens on to a courtyard. And what a pretty court yard it is! Look upwards at the little green door and who do you see there? Mme Varlet waiting to welcome you to her home. Bien venue a la maison…thank you for joining me in my dream. I love Paris in the spring time, I love Paris in the fall, I love Paris oh why do I love Paris…c’est normale non, dose'nt everyone?

The Spanish connection
Hola Andrea and Antonio, thank you for being my friends. I’m glad we met at the Alliance Francaise Andrea, I’m glad you were the studious one…always helps when one of us is. You made Paris that much more special for me. Yes we’ve all gone our own ways but I do remember all those fun week ends drinking beers in st Germain de Pres , picnics along the Seine and candle light dinners on the Champs de Mars. Yes, I do remember our nuit blanche party opposite Notre Dame…those were the days my friends. Thank you for introducing me to the taste of iberico sausage on bread with olive oil and tomato. Thank you for teaching me the one and only phrase one needs in France …es que vous avez blah blah …You gave me so much love and affection when I needed it most, and for being there in the gloomy days. You made Paris special ..merci beaucoup pour tous

Along came Uben
My little Britanny Spaniel aka Boo Boo, my little French man, mon petite. All the way from the South of France straight to life in the big city, a big ask for a little dog. U-ben? What a strange name one might wonder..this is France mon amie, nothings straight forward … dogs are named after the letter that’s representative of the year the dog is born in so the age of the dog is easily calculated, my boo boo was born in the year of the U, so UBen. His best friend, Sabine’s Jack Russel…Union Jack. Boo Boo the first and the last, as he was known in some circles, was a true French man…loved his cheese, his steak tartare and his whining…

Its my party and I’ll spy if I want to
There's a voyeur in us all...none more so when it comes to l the lives of others..Guillaume stands upright and sticks his head out of the sky light in our mezzanine bed room, its easy when you don’t have the space to stand up. ‘Not bloody again! Its Sunday and there he goes again’ its our Opera singer neighbor practicing his bars for the 100th time. Me? I don’t really mind…I quite like Puccini so no worries there…guess that’s what happens when you live cheek and jowl with 10 other people. This is Paris for you…lie on your bed and look straight into the bed room of Marcel and Anges…its nice they still make love…even though I wish it was more frequent. I think their relationship needs it. Perhaps they say the same of Arshia and Guillaume..who knows…Marta and Antoine love Norah Jones…me too…love her new album. If I ever meet you I’m happy to lend you a copy. Madam Martin in her Chanel suit immaculately dressed at all times…that’s my epitome of a French woman , after Coco Chanel and Marie Claude Varlet of course..

Une baguette, un baguette…?
C’est tres confusing pour moi…I don’t know if it’s a male or female baguette can you tell by the end’s perhaps? The sharp ones are male like the baguette Monge down the street at the Boulongerie Fertillet. Maybe the blunt edged ones are the females like the super market fare …no idea. But lets go with une baguette. I’m the dumb foreigner with the anglicized accent who cant pronounce vrai and grenouille so all is forgiven

Down on your hands and knees
Flash light in hand, crawling on all fours…Laurent and Anne Marie in tow…its gone. Metro Varenne here’s my gift to you…my diamond pendant treasured above all else at the time. I cant think of a better offering to a city that’s as precious to me as any bauble…Here I am worshiping at your altar…though unabettingly

Learning to roller blade at les invalides …how appropriate …
And still pretty unsuccessful…though the memories of landing on your ass still sting. Ha,ha,ha..thank God for knee and elbow pads…Guillaume did try…but as they say, some things are better learnt when you don’t care about scars to the body or the mind…and the ego

The BD, a French institution equal to none
From BD’s (Bande dessinée) to Mangas, the Fnac has it all…floors and floors of goodies to make any French man’s heart soar and boy did it take flight for Guillaume. My first encounter with the famous BD, was quite memorable. The comic book or BD in the English speaking world is the realm of the idiot, the one who cant hold his concentration long enough to read a novel..for those who are vocabulary challenged, so much so that they need the pictures to help them make sense. Turn this around on its head and that’s what you get in France. The BD is an institution by itself, a tribute to the French notion of aesthetics and art. The BD is a hard bound A4 sizes book, which for all thoughts and purposes looks like a Time Life series book.Those educational tomes we all had to read as kids to learn about the universe, the animal kingdom and such topics that would help us do pub quizzes I guess. But no my friends, it’s a comic book in every sense, revered for the exquisiteness of the illustration and the very strong story line. There are scores of titles, each one a collectible in its own right..so much so that one of them has even been made into a movie…little did I know that the 100’s of ‘time life’ like books on Guillaume’s shelf were comic books! Shock shock horror! Thought I’d married an intellectual…lets fast forward three months down and guess what, even though I don’t read the stuff, I think the illustrations are exquisite…its all about art …naturellemnt…

Form over function
Its all in the aesthetics…be it a simple table lamp to the flower buckets at Monceau Fleurs…the French have mastered the art of making even a bin bag look, well exquisite. How do they do it? Why is it that certain nationalities (I wouldn’t dare say races..that too’s been beaten out of me) are so aesthetically sensitive compared to others. Where does the need for ‘presentation’ come from? Be it the Haussmanian buildings or even the art deco entrances to the metro stations, the French have it down to a T….Viva la France, Bravo!

Les Francaise
Did you know there are 50 ways to tie a scarf … and when you’re a French woman, all 50 are coded in your DNA…Les Francaise, she lives by a code…elegance, style and poise..all three intrinsic in everything she does…A land where no means yes and yes means no…iconic red lip stick, talons, exquisitely cut suits, le pashmina wrapped around finely accessorized necks, just so. A flick of the wrist with the Ebel watch, a slight whiff of her Chanel No 5, a gentle pursing of the lips and she has you on your knees…


Autum in the Jardin de tuilerries
A time of magic..when the leaves are turning. The parisiennes in their stylish coats, collars turned up against the wind..orange Hermes gloves. Hat brims pulled over eyes…citizens braving the cold, sitting on the chairs by the pond watching the world go by while time stands still. Hot chocolate at Angeline and then a walk down place Vendome to the Opera Garnier. Lets rush into the Gallery Lafayette to de-frost then perhaps a walk down the bags section at the Print temps. The world is my oyster and I’m living every moment of it…

Some say that if it wasn’t for General von Choltitz Paris would have been reduced to a pile of rubble when the Nazi’s surrendered to the allied forces…He was tasked with raising the city to the ground rather than surrender. But that was never to be …Paris is magic …Paris was magic …so many wonderful memories of a time when life was wonderful, when relationships, fresh…when life was about discovery…When all else is lost, there’s still Paris...

Ps. Thank you for the memories (Guillaume)

The beginners guide to self preservation

Eat, Pray, Love (come, reza, ama) and all that jazz..
Getting back in the saddle sounds like fun but really isn’t, both metaphorically and physically, unless you’re a yoga goddess or Hugh Hefners pick of the day. Unfortunately I’m neither…. And boy did I find out the hard way…
Being in a steady, safe and stifling institution called marriage for 6.75 years, does not prepare you for the horrors of the ‘singles habitat’. The world of singledom, that magic kingdom that seems so sparkley and lovely when your on the sofa sitting next to your better (or worse, fat or thin, ugly or pretty, hairy or balding, etc etc) half, both staring in opposite directions. All those single people out there, living the dream…in retrospect one needs to ask..What dream exactly? And who’s dream for that matter? At the time it seemed like mine…and still does when the goings good. Elizabeth Gilbert had her nervous break down and then met the man of her dreams, so there’s hope for all of us I guess. But in the interim she lost tons of weight in her yoga / meditation / find your self jaunt in India. Met some Italian stallions and learnt the language of love in Italy then went bloody waltzing off to bum fuck in Indonesia and met the man of her dreams …WTF?? Whereas Arshia, on the other hand, in her life changing tome ’Who fucked off with my bloody cheese’ , left the sweetest most loving man in the world, still hasn’t ‘got’ the dating game, met a couple of psychos…one of which managed to mess up her head nice and proper and is now licking her wounds in the bosom of the Indian family.Nice one! Me, bitter? Hell no! Wait for the sequel folks!

Embracing the learning curve …Rolling with the punches
Like with all things, the learning curve’s been pretty steep and will probably continue to be for quite a while…I think its for the good. Imagine how boring it would be if there was nothing left to learn?
Change is good…you can either roll with punches or curl up in a corner and shrivel up like a prune. The beauty of it all is that you can choose to do either, it doesn't affect anyone nor is it anyone’s else’s business. The best thing that’s come out of this experience is that I’ve learnt that women are truly your best friends…all this ‘stuff’ about bitchiness, competition etc..it goes down the toilet after a certain age. The 30’s are the democratizer…we’re all the same, warts and all…after hitting the magic 3 ‘O’. My life changed the transformation was over night and magical. I like to believe its for the better…I don’t cringe at the sight of children anymore…but no I’m not ready for one just as yet. Lets give my figure a chance, especially since I’ve lost tons of weight because of the anxiety and stress attacks… Then there’s the whole ‘man’ thing of course…but there’s always the trusted turkey baster in the draw next to the best friend..so all’s good. Then there’s the self-confidence. Where the hell had that been hiding all these years? I stopped giving a shit about the trivial things, did you? And miraculously girl friend, you start looking fabulous! The Goddess within you awakens after a 30 year slumber…no prince required or included in the pack.... let the games begin! …and yes, you start snoring…thought I’d drop that in.



My guide to fabulosity…yes there is such a word!
I never thought I’d feel this, but I’m pretty amazing! In fact we’re all pretty amazing…we fall down, get up, dust ourselves off and get on with it. There are some of us out there with children and who still find the strength to get out of a comfort zone and for better or worse, it’s not easy. Saying good bye to extended relationships with families, in-laws and ‘his friends’ is hard. Facing the fact that there might be an empty chasm for quite a while and the men you’ll meet are on the look out for sex or ‘the one’ even though they probably don’t know what that means. Been there, done that and bought the t-shirt mate…it doesn't exist. You find ‘the one’ when you’re ready to make compromises…then ‘the one’ in your line of sight becomes it.
Competition out there is fierce when you’re competing with 20 year old stick insects who don’t know the meaning of the word ‘age defense’. It’s the wild west out there, but what we have ladies is maturity, experience, compassion and empathy on our sides plus a fantastic career and bank balance that’s all ours to do what we wish with. Want to splurge on crème de la mer, go right ahead! I make a bee line for the Chanel counter these days (even in Boots)…and it feels good! Plus as they say, this is our vintage year, we’re never going to look as good or feel as great...or even earn enough to truly live it up as we do now. Welcome to the shower gel stakes– you know you’ve arrived when – Back in your 20’s, a sign of success was buying shower gel (the ultimate indulgence) from the Body Shop, 30’s – Molton Brown, 40’s – Jo Malone, 50’s and over …well, I’ll deal with that when I get there, thank God its still a while away! The bottom line…you’ve come a long way baby give yourself a pat on the back and put your best foot forward!

Spiritual mumbo jumbo and other cool stuff

Hunting the ‘what if’ monster
The ‘what if’ monster is one of nature’s darkest and fiercest creations and is commonly found in the recesses of the mind known as the fuck ups container. The ‘what if’ monster devours everything in sight, though it’s know to favor sanity and peace of mind above all else. While it lies dormant through child hood, the monster starts showing signs of life at various times in one’s life, the most common causes are known to be relationships or, the lack of, in some cases. Those prone to looking at life through rose tinted glasses tend to escape its clutches for longer than those who prefer to see half empty glasses. Its easy to recognize one who’s been afflicted with ‘what if’itis’, all one needs to look for is a flicker of self doubt, remorse or regret.. flit across a persons face followed by slumped shoulders, a sigh and a look of absolute defeat…

The feel good factor
Spiritualists all over the world are constantly battling long and hard to find the cure to the human condition or 'what ifitis', the good news there is one! The inherent negativity eats away at us like a disease. Fighting the monster is hard and tedious but not impossible. All it needs is tapping into that positive energy flow that’s in one and all of us. There’s sun shine in there folks and its all yours now reach out and grab it!
May sound like mumbo jumbo but boy does it work! Tried and tested, it does what it says on the can!
Think positive, be thankful for all the fantastic things you have in your life, sometimes its hard when life deals you a hard blow ....but no one said life was fair, it doesn't need to be, once we accept that and try to make the most of all we have, things don’t seem so bad. There’s always someone better off or worse off than us so why bother sweating the small stuff, we cant do shit about it anyways.

'Give me something to believe in' (Poison , best of ballads & blues , 2003)
I was talking to a friend of mine today who told me about the Jain spiritual ethos …we all come from nothing and go into nothing…the soul doesn't evolve from anywhere its totally transitional. Externalities don’t affect our soul, the ‘what if’ part of our existence is just that something that happens on the outside and has no bearing on you or your soul. Its done, over…you cant change it, might as well move on and make the most of what is