Manly Halloween Festival

As a compulsive list person, it is apparent that one of the first things I do in any new environment, is make a list. I arrived in Australia last year and settled myself in. Then I made a list. A list of things that would go on my pseudo-bucket list. Let me call it the wish tree. I don't really have a name for it. Maybe I'll think up one soon. 

One of the things on the list was to do a Halloween thing. I suppose it broadly meant getting out and about, dressed in costume. I did not have a real plan. Maybe I wanted to go pub crawling. Maybe I wanted to go trick-and-treat-ing. I don't know. Nothing happened last year, except it remained on the list. This year, a friend suggested checking out the Manly Halloween Festival. I was pretty sure it was kids stuff and not sure I was that desperate. In the end, I did go. Not in costume, of course. Just loose trousers and a tee. The curiosity of the what might be in the parade enabled the trip. It turned out be much more fun that I had expected. 

We arrived there early enough to see the cars being prepared for the Street Parade in the evening. Up and close enough to examine some of them. A number of makeshit stalls, in the form of little tents, lined the main street. They had everything from bits for costumes to toys and candies. The best thing about parades, of course, is that the roads are closed to traffic. Well, maybe not the best but I like walking on the street without having to look left and right for speeding cars. People dressed in garbs of red, black and other bizzare colours strolled along the road, trying to look as creepy as possible. The abuse of colours was apparent, as is wont in any Halloween event. While the adults stuck to their dark sides, the kids dressed up in costumes ranging from vampires to superheroes. There was also the odd angel, princess or warrior, among some kids. Mushy parents, I suppose. 

We picked one side of the road and cruised through the stalls, as you do at such events, knowing fully well that we had no intention of buying anything. The sellers watched, quietly assessing whether you were just a passerby or a potential buyer. They seem to ignore you while you're looking but suddenly spring to life the moment you pick up one of their wares and show the slightest consideration of loosening your purse strings. We easily moved on from shops that sold generic stuff not related to Halloween. We stopped longer at the ones that had wigs, capes and other things that would be useless after that day. There were expensive stuff ($25 wigs! Really?) and there were the Chinese stuff ($5 wig anyone?). 

When we started off, little K was wearing a little mask and a tiger cap with antenna sticking out of his head. As we waited for the parade later that evening, my mate wore a B&W tribal wig with blood dripping off her vampire mouth. In my bright red wig, horns and vampire face paint, the Halloween item on my list was ready to be crossed off. K had the full face of a vampire, complete with the freaky expressions he was putting on. My mate's husband was our personal photographer, as husbands seem to end up most of the time.

The games spread over the festival campus were amazing. I wanted to be a kid myself, so I could try some of that stuff. The stage at one end of the road invited enthusiasts to take a free fencing lesson. You could walk around all afternoon and find something amusing at every turn. In true Aussie style, one family of witches, wizards and weirdos had a barbie set up near the beach (Aussie slang. barbie => barbecue). Beach, food, music and all things crazy. Halloween festival alright. 

The parade started in the evening. When you've spent an afternoon in a crowd filled with the creepiest and whackiest costumes, a street parade fails to ignite your senses much unless there was something different. Scores and scores of creeps walked the streets, failing to impress. Then the cars drove by. Ah! Creativity unleashed and gone berserk. It was freak-a-bulous! There may be some who think all that blood and violence freely roaming the parade would have a negative influence on the children. Get a life! This was fun. 

Maybe next year, I'll get a full costume and go pub crawling. Or trick-and-treating. In any case, Halloween is marked as done on my wish tree. 

Xmas to New Year

I've been slack on the blogging front. I think up stuff to write, I have the material and then I get lazy. After a blissfully beautiful Christmas, which I insist on calling "the traditional Aussie Christmas" even though people tell me there's nothing traditional about an Aussie Christmas, I made up my mind to blog about it. The draft page remained open on my Chrome for a week before I shut it when I had to restart my PC for updates. That was the end of it.

It has been a crazy week. Busy and free. Full and quiet. Odd and lovely at so many levels.

Christmas Eve involved attending a family mass at the Holy Cross Church at Windsor. It was my first time. I've wanted to do that for many years now. A lovely experience. It felt nice to be at a place of worship after a long time. I had not realized until then that I missed going to a temple or church. It was touching to see that many people with an unfailing faith in God. There were bits when the priest was speaking that seemed to come straight out of the movies. That could be because movies take things out of life in an attempt to make it seem real. It felt out of place but that was just me, of course. I was allowed to take pictures but alas my mobile camera is not the world's greatest. In the end, we all held hands and prayed, then when everyone whispered "Peace be with you" to each other, in reverence, it took me a while to go from 'psst psst psst' and 'Merry Christmas??' to what it really was. Managed to return some myself, eventually.

Christmas was perfect. There is no other way to describe it. Ever since the festive season started, I had begun to feel more than ever that I wanted to see what the inside of a Christmas was really like. I wanted to spend it with an Aussie family and see what they do. Everyone I spoke with merely said "lunch with family", "exchange presents", "that's about it". I wanted to be part of it anyway but no such thing was going to happen. So, I got a stack of books from the library and told myself that I could atleast lose myself in the magical world of stories. That is when I received an invite to attend a 10-day camping trip to Melbourne, Sydney and Canberra. Excited as I was, it was too short a notice to obtain time off at work and to prepare myself. I hated having to let it pass. Then an angel sent me EM, girlfriend of RVR, from my Krav classes, at our pre-Christmas BBQ. 

RVR picked me up from home at 10 on the morning of Christmas Day. The afternoon was spent volunteering at a church, helping with the community lunch for the lonely/homeless/poor. It was interesting to meet so many people, listen to some of the older ones talk about life in their younger days, the even older ones discuss their times, really young ones argue about the fascination of their generation. EM's mum KM chattered away and introduced me to everyone. Such a social and amiable person, she is. Reminded me of my mum. Went back home to EM's parents where EM and I made dessert - chocolate biscotti tart with caramel filling. Yumm. Watching the family exchange gifts in private, is a memory to lock away and cherish. Showered, changed and got lost catching up with the rest of the extended family that came in for a fabulous Christmas dinner. Meeting all those people, the chatter, the excitement, the exchange of information was so overwhelming. The Christmas dinner was a gala affair, starting with PM "saying grace", the Christmas crackers, reading the cheeky jokes aloud, the 3-course meal, the conversations... can't say enough about it. Later, the exchange of presents, reading newsletters, sharing news, more talking, the excitement in the air was simply marvellous. At the end of an enjoyable evening came the goodbyes. 

I was the first to arrive when the day had just begun and the last to leave. A quiet drive back home with RVR, talking about stuff. Bedtime. A perfect Christmas.

Boxing Day was, of course, all about sales and shopping. Even though I had a late start to my day, thanks to the fun and frolic of Jesus' birthday, I shopped till the stores closed. The next day, it was more shopping again. My day started earlier but the spending spree was on till the shops closed. Buying gifts for others can be so much fun, especially when the salary's just been credited into your account. When you toss in a few things for yourself in there, it only gets better.

Back to work after the tightly packed 4-day weekend, which also included cleaning up the mess I call home. I loved it nevertheless, needed to exercise my brains. The 3 quiet days at work went by like a fantasy. Less people, no noise, lots achieved. 

New Years Eve was somewhat like Christmas Eve. Spent the evening with BT and NT. Only, this time it was watching fireworks instead of mass at the church. Walked back to the station, noticing how crowded the city gets on such days (where do all those people come from?) and eyeing the drunks warily, enjoying the colours and how Brissie comes alive on occasions like this. Twenty minutes before the switch to 2011 I knocked off for a good night's sleep.

New Year Day has started on a warm summer morning, just cool enough to enjoy a hot cuppa. Quiet, except for the odd bird. Shooting off to a day trip with friends. Looking forward to a fun day to reign in 2011.

QBE RiverFire

Finally, the much-hyped RiverFire is over. The show was spectacular, as one would expect one of fireworks to be. From Kangaroo Point, we had a view of the fireworks from five different spots - in front of us and either side. It was a beauty to watch the fireworks in sync across all five points, and with the music on station 104.5

The first dump-and-burn was the longest and most spectacular! To watch a black jet shoot past spitting fire from it's tail... fire that grows bigger and bigger until the tail is larger than the F111 itself.... it was amazing to watch it zoom past us. When the second one was about to start, the fireworks stopped and there was silence for a while, as the music slowly changed. Everyone looked up and voila, there it was! The third one was unexpected and streaked across with a dazzling purple fire-tail that burned a bright orange as it got bigger. It was totally worth changing my mind in the last minute and head to Kangaroo Point, for the dump-and-burn was definitely the highlight of the event for me.

The fireworks themselves were spectacular. My favourite was the one where you saw a purple fire blazing on the boat and watched as it slowly grew into orange sparks and turned into huge green stars that exploded into a gigantic red ball, before crumbling to a massive ball of golden dust and finally disappearing into the dark skies. The city was a pretty view with lights, coloured smoke, sparkles and starry colours. 

The jam-packed crowds were not the kind of 'jam-pack' that one would find in India, a lot more relaxed. That reminded me that I need to take things with a pinch of salt when it comes to talking about crowds out here. I grabbed a sausage and onion roll while I was there, wish they were selling beer too. It was hard to watch families munch on steaks and take a swig of beer, while all I had was the roll and water. 

Inspite of a prediction of rain and dark clouds in the sky, no such thing happened. The weather remained lovely and perfect for the night. It was a pity that I missed the sights at the Story Bridge. From what I've heard, the best fireworks happen there. It's hard to pick the perfect vantage point, for you can only see so much from each point. Either the 5 fireworks in sync and multitude of colours or the Story Bridge or you miss the dump-and-burn. There's always a catch. Maybe next year, I'll catch to the Story Bridge sights. After all, the F111 jets were the highlight of this year, their last year before they fly off to the Americas for maintenance. 

It was a lovely night. A wonderful way to kick off the Brisbane Festival, starting tomorrow. I bet the free RiverFire event surpassed the paid Opening Night event of the festival, at King George Square. 

9K Endurance Test & QBE RiverFire

9K Endurance Test #1: Managed a non-stop 10k run in approx 75 minutes. 

The plan was to just see if I can last an hour. I was hoping the weather would help. Slathered on sufficient sunscreen for good measure, anyway, laced up and headed out around noon. The weather was rather pleasant. I stuck to the riverside, just to be sure. The sun peeped in occasionally but was rather well-behaved. 

Got a first-hand view of the preps for tonight's RiverFire. The Goodwill Bridge was closed and the entrance caged  up, with large boards redirecting walkers. People had started setting up spots by the riverfront, picnic blankets, chairs & tables, baskets and all. Some had settled on benches, under the trees. Everyone was with families and friends at the Botanic Gardens. Also noticed, thanks to kids playing, that the Botanic Gardens have a children's playground. 

On the way back, I got a good view of crowds forming at the Southbank. People have started picking spots and settling in, at their fave vantage points, 8 - 9hrs before the event. Triple MMM, docked in at Rockstar Lounge at Southbank have started their countdown, amidst playing variety music that kept me company all through the run. Next endurance test might be in slightly hotter weather.

Back home now and all set to get ready for the RiverFire. With 16000 kilos of fireworks, fabulous Blackhawk performances and the famous F111 dump-and-burn lined up, it's no wonder that most of Brisbane and surrounding suburbs will be there. I missed the Blackhawk and F111 rehearsal in the city yesterday but can't wait to watch. Thanks to Nathan and the real estate guys, I've got one of the best vantage points for fireworks - level 28 of one of the city's taller buildings! If I was worried about missing the jostling crowd and madness of the outdoor vantage points, the latest plan includes a spot on the Victoria Bridge to watch the dump-and-burn. I've heard so much about it, I can't wait!

Wondering if I ought to make my way to the RiverFire to watch PowderFinger play live or head towards the late night DJ stands in the city centre. The options are too many, not enough hours in my day. 

Triple MMM is hyping up the RiverFire official song so much, I've stuck myself on that station for the day now. Their countdown says 4.5 hours to go. I have about 2.5 before I walk over and secure myself a good vantage point. So much preparations to do and so little time! The excitements kicking in, can't sit down any more. 

After 3 days of warm weather, the bureau says there might be rain in the offing tonight. Hoping it won't rain down the show. After all, I'm about to strike off another item on Queenslands 150-must do things.

Vishu: Happy New Year

Even as kids, my brother and I loved this festival. The astrological new year for Malayalis/Keralites. It did not matter that we had to be up by 4AM (nowadays it's 5AM) and were not allowed to go back to sleep. We loved the Vishukanni arrangement that dad painstakingly set up the previous night. We loved the money even more. 

As part of tradition, we wake up early in the morning and walk to the pooja room with our eyes closed (dad brings each one of us to the pooja room). We open our eyes to see the Vishukanni first thing in the morning. Then we wait patiently while dad lights the lamp, does a little pooja and then distributes coconut, jaggery and some money placed on a couple of betel leaves with a couple of betel nuts (kaineetam). Mum says when she was young, her parents used to give her anything between 25 paise to a rupee. We started off with Rs. 20 as children and now dad gives us Rs. 500 each. Mum gives us a 100 bucks because she is "not earning". Bro gets an additional 500 from me because I'm elder to him. Anyone who visits us today get something (usually a tenner).

Here are some pictures of our Vishu this year. Oh yea, I made 610 bucks (10 from granny).

Vishukkanni

Dad lights the lamp & gets the kaineetam sorted

Dad gets kaineetam from his mother

For accurate details on the significance of this festival, go to wikipedia or click here.

Guest Post #2: The Things I Do...

It all started with writers' block, one guest blog and before I knew it, I was thinking Guest Blogger Week. I announced it first and then began to worry about finding people to write for me! I don't have too many blogger friends, what should I do? 

The immediate response to my request was an emphatic "No!" when I first started asking around. It was a test of my negotiation skills a.k.a nagging skills (as today's guest says). I'm pleased to announce that by the end of the second day, I had my second blog. Of course, it came with the condition of "complete anonymity". I also have 3 bloggers lined up for the rest of the week who are all super-excited. Three cheers to my negotiation skills, woo hoo!

Oops, I'd better stop rambling or I'll be accused of hijacking the blog. Moving on to the real stuff...

Royal Challengers Bangalore vs Kings XI Punjab (Tuesday 16th March 2010)

I know what you're thinking, "a review of a cricket game, wow, how exciting?"  Don't worry your excitement is matched with my lack of enthusiasm for writing.

Some years ago I read a book, Bad Hair Days by Pamela Bone, a memoir of a woman diagnosed with a quite rare form of cancer.  Pamela was a journalist prior to being diagnosed with her illness and comments in the book that usually less words are better when trying to get a message across.  I'm telling you this so that you can rest assured I won't be keeping you long.  

The real topic of this "guest" blog is nagging.  I'm a guy, a member of the weaker sex.  It's a Tuesday afternoon here in Bengaluru.  It's a holiday, Ugadhi, a time for eating sweets, right?  What better way to celebrate the Hindu new year than watching my beloved Challengers play cricket.  It's what any self respecting guy would do, right?  Alas, I've been nagged. Not just any nagging, this is the nagging of a friend, the worst kind.  "Write me a blog" she says, "I'm having a guest week for my blog".  Hmmm, "Not keen" I say.  Okay, that should be good enough, she cares enough about me to know that I would never write a blog.  What sorry person wants to know about my sorry life.  So fine, I tell her I'm not keen she asks someone else and we're all happy, right?  

Hours later I sit to watch the Challengers, on television, too many things in the way of me getting to the ground.  Why should I waste my time writing a blog?  Shit, I'm a guy, we don't do this stuff.  If she wants to write a blog why doesn't she write it herself?  Why should she interfere with my holiday just cos she can't be bothered writing her own blog?  It's not on!  But hold on, I've been nagged.  The nagging itself isn't a big deal until you reach the point where to shut her up you promise you will write a blog.  Shit, a promise is a promise.  I hate being one of the weaker sex! If only we had the prerogative to change our minds whenever we wanted, promise or no promise, sigh. 

It nears 6pm the players walk from the field for the change of innings, Kings XI have scored 203, things are looking bad all round.  RCB's batting line up isn't looking too solid, Pietersen and Taylor still to join the team. Anyway, as they walk from the field I reach for my laptop and start the dreaded chore of writing a "guest" blog!  This can't be happening.  Why is it happening?  Nagging, I have been nagged into doing this.  

So, I think some more about nagging. You know what, I've been nagged my whole life.  From my earliest days; "make your bed", "polish your shoes", "do the dishes", blah blah blah.  Then school; "do your home work", "sit up straight", "pay attention", blah blah blah.  Then, marriage, oh my god, where do I start.  Best not to.  And throughout all this a steady stream of nagging from friends, right up to the present day!

RBC are 89/1 at the half way mark, they're a chance.....  Why am I writing?  Why aren't I giving them my full attention?  The power of nagging.  

Now I'm wondering, would I have ever done anything in my life if it wasn't for nagging?  Is nagging a necessary part in getting the weaker sex to do anything?

Spike Milligan was quoted as saying "I would like to have enough money to prove that it can't make me happy". That's how I feel about nagging, I would like to go without it long enough to prove that I can't function without it.  

Oh, if you're interested in the cricket score, read about it in the paper.  I'm going to watch the last 8 overs in peace.  Happy Ugadhi!!

At the time of posting this blog, the match was over. RCB won the match by 8 wickets. Jacques Kallis was the star of the match. Oh yes, it was Happy Ugadhi after all - we won, Bangalore won!

Xmas Christmas

I always imagined Christmas as a white festival. Sheets of snow was the first picture that formed in my mind. Then came Santa in his red & white attire, reindeers, turkey (yumm), home-made wine, snow-laden pine trees, bells and balls, etcetra.

Last year, when the husband was in Germany, he painted a bleak picture of Christmas for me. All shops closed, streets empty, no restaurants, no crowds or colours. Rather disappointed, I looked towards my friend in London. Whereas the weeks leading upto Christmas are rather full of excitement and festivities, the Christmas week and the day itself are rather quiet and mostly indoors.

This year, I spoke to a couple of my colleagues in Melbourne. They do not make wine at home, one of them had not even heard of such a thing. Melbourne celebrates Xmas in summer, so there is no question of snow or reindeers. The only reference to Santa was in the email which urged me to bill my efforts on the timesheet before the week was through.

In short, the last couple of years have completely trashed the picture of Christmas in my head. The only thing common across all places were the decorated pine trees and exchange of presents. Well, not all trashed I guess.

I have a short tree that I re-use every year (artifical because we don't exactly grow pine in India, for Christmas). I decorate it. I switch on lights in the tree in the evenings. This year, I also bought a star and a wreath. I plan to bake a cake (my office has stopped distributing the small plum cake we got every year, in the name of cost-cutting). Maybe I ought to buy some wine and make some chicken.

I have been a good girl, maybe somebody will buy me a present. Here's hoping...

Lucky @ Diwali

Although I have very fond memories of Diwali from my early childhood days - sharing crackers with the kids in our colony, all the lights, sparks & colours, the dangerous tricks we tried behind our parents' backs - I haven't quiet celebrated the festival since I was about 15 years old.

Reason? I bought an adorable little puppy home then and although he didn't mind Diwali so much in the initial years (in fact he loved watching the sparks fly about), he grew up to hate it. The noise terrified him and he would climb all over us, scratching us generously with his paws and snapping at the slightest touch. He loved mum so much that if she went alone, he'd have to follow her, no matter how scared he was and he would bark at the top of his voice until she came back in. He worried that something would happen to her and that was a greater concern for him than his own fear. It's heartening to see that kind of love. I wonder if one human can give another that.

Three years ago, he passed away. It was just a month before my wedding and for a couple of years after that I did not want to participate in any celebrations. I still miss him sometimes but the number of times has lessened as the days roll by. I think of him often. Well, this is not a blog about Sonu, so I will move on. Maybe I'll write one for him later, there's so many memories I carry!

I say it like a joke but it could just be true. Lucky came to stay in my house almost like a dowry, a few months into my marriage. Like the maid-in-waiting of a princess who follows the young bride, to serve her in her new home. Although she was jealous of me when I first moved into my in-laws' place, she adjusted pretty well once she moved into my own place.

The year before my marriage, she had had a bout of fits during Diwali. All the noise had freaked her out. Ever since, we had been worried about her, especially around this time. It's been 3 years since then and she has shown no signs of relapse (thank God for that). On the other hand, she has grown to be curious. This Diwali she went down to the garage with the family, where they lit crackers - sparklers, flower-pots and the like. I missed the party but I heard stories about her that pleased me!

Instead of being scared of the noises or the 'fire', she was intrigued. She was excited about the sparks that flew about and went searching for them on the ground as they disappeared. She is the only dog I've heard of who would do such a thing.

However, I'm not too surprised. She seems to implicitly trust that anything that one of us in the family participates in, cannot hurt her either. She watches me light the lamps in the pooja room on some days and sits down to watch. She doesn't understand it but she knows it is harmless because I'm right there, doing something with it.

They have so much love and trust for us! No wonder they call a dog man's best friend. They give and they give and they give, no matter what. They forget the times you have been angry with them or the times you didn't let them have the treat they thought they deserved but they will not forget that you are family and they love you relentlessly.