Monthly Archives: December 2012

2012, take a hint.

tumblr_mfq5mslyGB1qcq8vao1_500

2012 was a year that many will be glad to see escorted out of the building.

Hinduism tells us that there are four stages that the world goes through and that we are in the last stage – Kali Yuga – the stage that basically sees the spiritual degeneration of human civilization. Word in the universe is that we’re heading to a golden age and that the perpetual stink that was the 432 000-year-old Kali Yuga is now over. Hmmm…I don’t know if there is really such a thing as a ‘Golden Age’. Maybe we’ve just gone too far to unlearn the stuff that embarrasses our own sense of humanity.

I hate it when people say, “What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.” I don’t want to come near to death to feel stronger. I don’t want to catch a glimpse of my inner power by having it nearly snuffed out. And I certainly don’t want to have my heart broken again so that it becomes a wiser heart.

Stuff will always happen. Disappointments and heartache will always arrive without a bottle of Merlot. And maybe we’ll repeat the mistakes we’re not supposed to. 2012 damn well nearly sent my ashes over to the Ganges. I’m tired. We’re all tired. And while we all want to be stronger humans, we also just want to breathe deep and let go.

They say that this so-called ‘golden age’ is actually about truthfulness and compassion. I don’t mind this. We all need more of this. And I’m sure we all don’t mind the learnings. But maybe in 2013 they can have better packaging.

In 2013, may we all have some reprieve from the drama and may we all get a turn – to meet our Ryan Goslings, to do that back flip, to make people at work proud, be safe and healthy, have our space in the limelight, lie on the beach, make more cash, clean out the cupboards…and eat bread and not feel 7 months pregnant. May we all go through next year just feeling a bit better about everything. And may we have our faith in humanity restored without destroying it for others.

2013, I’m not fazed by the unluckiness your aura already seems to exude. I know you will be different. Or…maybe you won’t. Maybe we will be different.

Advertisements
Tagged , , ,

The Gym Scenario

CELEBRITIES_bradley_cooperV

When you are single, any scenario provides the opportunity to meet a man – including the one where you’re lying on a gym mat crunching your holiday abs.
So there I was making abs of steel out of pudding when I noticed a lovely Frenchy looking guy next to me, somewhat resembling Hollywood actor, Bradley Cooper. Obviously, I check him out. He is doing push ups from that rope contraption that hangs from the wall. Impressive.

What’s not so impressive is that I immediately work a little harder, stretch a little further and linger a little longer. A good looking man provides simple motivation.
It is now time for me to take a swim, so I do, lamenting the fact that a girl’s Speedo, swimming cap and goggles is just the wrong side of athletically attractive. I notice in between my ailing breaststroke, that Frenchy Cooper is still in full view, this time doing pushups while balancing over four gym balls.

I get out the pool like a drenched rat, make my way to the changeroom, hurriedly throw on my clothes over my wet swimsuit and firmly decide that when I walk past Cooper, I will smile, slightly. I attempt that just-stepped-out-of-the-pool breeziness and as I walk past, I give the smallest, most inconspicuous glint of a smile.

Suddenly, he says, “Excuse me.” That’s it! Frenchy Cooper wants to talk to me. This is it…he has been waiting patiently for me through my entire gym session just to say hi. I’m delighted. Until I turn around and notice that my swimming cap is on the floor. Only…it’s not my swimming cap. It’s my panty.

In one single swoop, Frenchy innocently grabs it – not with his fingertips – and passes it on to me. I snatch it from him quickly, saying, “Well, that’s embarrassing!” and frantically stash my panty back in my gym bag where it should have been.

I am mortified. And shall forever remember this day as the day that I met Frenchy Cooper, who bent down and picked my panty off the floor. Not my sexy Victoria’s Secret panty but my hideous, hardworking, not-so-secret granny panty.

Tagged ,

Permission to be Imperfect

This is not an entry for the people that make a living from letting it all hang out, from being hopeless, useless, unaccountable and just consistently bad at life. This is for the those who spend the majority of existence holding it all together, gluing back the broken wings, making the ends meet, cleansing, toning, moisturizing, making the perfect briyani and just fervently refusing to unravel.

Surely, it’s time to let things slip a little. Surely we can permit ourselves the opportunity to rock up incorrectly dressed, lipstick on teeth, break into uncontrollable tears and just crumble for a bit.

If perfection is supposed to be fictional, let’s keep it that way. Let us give ourselves space to get it all horribly wrong, to say inappropriate things or to say nothing at all.

Let us make room for no improvement. Let us sit back and eat more dessert. Let’s not worry about kilos and cholesterol and duty and punctuality. Let’s not keep it all tucked in. Let’s pack away the mirrors and the coasters. Let’s get into the hot oil and burst like an unsealed samoosa. Let’s feel jealous. Let’s be haters. Let’s lower our expectations of ourselves and increase it for others. Let’s steal the damn shampoo in the hotel. And let’s think weird thoughts while we meditate.

Who decided that we should always be perfect? Who decided that you should be so hard on yourself. The next time we feel only human, let’s pay close attention. Let’s give ourselves a hallway pass for imperfection. Because after all, we are only human – fallible, flawed, fumbling, fatigued.

 

 

 

 

Welcome to my blog.

Spilled-Milk-4cc9e6b055b13_hires

I’m Su. Saturdays are traditionally my clumsiest days. My family members approach Saturdays with trepidation, ensuring that I’m far from delicate wine glasses and that I avoid carrying a stack of dinner plates to the table. But I’m not just awkward around tall glasses and slippery dessert bowls. I have clumsy life moments too.

I was tired of creating speech-length status updates on Facebook and decided that I needed somewhere else to spill and break things.
I think Life offers us ample opportunity for clumsiness. And grace. It offers us the space to tip things over, pick up the pieces and also to grab something that is split seconds away from disaster – with ninja-like reflexes.

There will be plenty of angst here, some awe, a fair amount of drama, musings and sometimes just the odd human observation. Because life and people are just that weird. Welcome to my blog.