Archive for March, 2012

Skating Ice-some

Skating Ice-Some

The other day, me and my classmate decided to do some cool stuff on the weekend. We came up with the idea of ice skating. It was pretty much my idea as the thought was lingering on my mind since I went to Alexandra Palace and saw the huge ice rink there. So, me and Sam decided to meet at Oxford Circus Station around 5pm because that’s when I finish my retail job.

It was a shitty work day as we had a new Manager who (just like all the Managers in any part of the world) felt the urgent and almost uncontrollable need to ridicule everyone. Moreover, remind us of our duties and how to carry them out in a more “efficient” manner. Worst part was that she’s WOMAN! I have never worked under female supervision. Just the thought of having a female boss freaks me out. As if TK, the short, fat, ugly CTS doesn’t add much to my misery, here comes J, the big, fat, white MaMa bear!

Back to Ice age, I finished work and met Sam. We had drinks before finally arriving at Queensway, our destination. Even after many years staying out of practice, I was still making my way with just a little bit of struggle. Sam wasn’t doing bad either. Since it was a Saturday evening, the ice rink was quite crowded and as usual I couldn’t help but observe the unusual “characters” and secretly categorised them while making a list in my head.

  • Happy-go-Lucky Kids
  • Giggly Needy Clingy Girls
  • Poor Disgraces
  • Shiny Show offs

Happy-go-Lucky Kids:

This was the coolest lot among the categories. The happy-go-lucky kids were the by-products of the coolest Mamas and Papas of the world bringing their cool kids to an ice rink on a family-day-out Saturday to cool off the week’s tension.

An obvious one among the crowd was this plump boy in a turquoise shirt with long curly hair who looked about five or six years old. Let me tell you, the kid was enjoying ice skating. Like REALLY. As if there was no tomorrow. I don’t remember how many times I saw him making rounds of the whole ice rink and he was quick as opposed to his size. His movements caught my attention the most. It is always beginners who spread their hands around them as much as they can to get a better balance and prevent from falling awkwardly. This hippo, I mean kiddo, had his tiny arms spread in front of him and he was moving forward as if swimming in deep sea with his little head moving left right at a quick pace. His little belly appeared tight inside his small shirt.

Another kid with pink jacket and matching boots was in the rink with her mummy. She was holding on to a little penguin shaped thing with two handles for support in front of her. Once during my rounds, I saw the penguin fall and the little girl accompanied her unwillingly to the cold floor. She immediately started crying as her worried but laughing mummy came from behind. The little girl let go of the nonresponsive penguin and buried her face in her mother’s lap who was now very much susceptible and got her out. It was more than twenty minutes before I saw the little girl appearing again smilingly on the ice rink.  

Giggly Needy Clingy Girls:

Ready to go out clubbing, the giggly needy clingy girls were mostly overdressed, tenderfeet and teenagers. They had either too many loose fringes on their glittering faces or they were too cold in their tiny clothes to actually focus on skating. And oh, they had boyfriends (high school heroes) who were ready to lend an arm or a shoulder or just about anything they could grab on while trying hard not to fall. They laughed on just about any movement they made while on the ice. It was highly dangerous to even think of crossing near them as they shook their heads more than they shook their bodies. Anyway, the giggly needy clingy girls were enjoying standing on the ice while holding on to their macho BFs.

Poor Disgraces:

It was a misery watching them poor disgraces on the ice. I can’t even think of a reason why they were there. Struggling for their lives, the poor disgraces were falling all over the place. This included mainly old uncles, middle-aged mummies and persistent youngsters. I remembered as I was holding on to the rail for a short break, one of the boy from a large standing group, struggling to walk while holding on to the rail approached me. In my mind I was thinking he would manage a few centimetres without the rail as he crosses me but NO, he shouted even before reaching closer “ I cannot leave the rail, I CANNOT LEAVE THE RAIL” and I, quickly let go off the rail to give him space to move on. Ah, he smelled of onions.

Shiny Show offs:

Yes! The ones who actually knew how to skate were the worst show offs! They were cutting people off left right and centre. They were moving too quick, too often and too close. Doing the wavers, skating backwards and skating with one foot. I wanted to smack them because there was no other way I could beat them. The shiny show offs were mostly skating in a large group which made it even worse for the beginners or even intermediates. There was one guy who, after every five minute interval was doing the circle move in the middle of the rink attracting few applauds from the unwanted audience every now and then. Each one of them wanted to show down the other at the cost of running into us and smashing us like vegetables!



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“It is nice to talk to someone who actually knows what you are talking about.”

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“Reading does not benefit Narrow-minded people because it only helps to expand your knowledge, not the size of your mind.”

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“Some phases of our lives are just like the boring, lengthy chapters of old school books; difficult to understand, easy to ignore. You know you’re not going to make use of them or worry about them in future, but you have to go through them anyhow”

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So, my crazy cousin is quite revengeful. Revengeful and extreme. She is one of those people you don’t want to rub the wrong way. She walks with a gun under her coat. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate her. But her intense personality worries me. Sometimes it delights me too. In a strange way. I am a bit of a sadist myself. Thriving on others misfortunes and miseries, especially those I can’t stand. Now don’t make that weird face, all of us have a little devil inside us!

Back to my cousin, she has this friend (her husband’s best friend’s wife) who is in a situation right now. Her sick, sad, slimy husband has been cheating on her. Poor girl. From what I’ve heard, she is very homely. Docile, obedient and an easy target. I already knew that her husband was a sick, sad, slimy cheater who indulges in extra marital activities now and then but this is the first time he got caught. She saw his emails to his so called “true love”. Funny how some people keep finding true love. Even after marriage. And two kids. Or more. Well, talking about falling in love is highly cliché and I don’t want to set any ground rules here as I agree that it could happen at the most insane moment in your life with the most incompatible person.

This innocent wife read her husband’s emails filled with promises, mushy love poems and all dirty ugly things you can think of. I say dirty and ugly things because of the fact that the “lover” was also a married woman with two kids. Living happily in London with poor hubby dear. Whereas  21st century Romeo lives in Dubai with his wife. That’s where the problem started.

Upon knowing her misery, my cousin (as helpful and revengeful as she is) ran to this girl’s rescue. She narrated her story that when she confronted him, he was sorry and to prove his loyalty, he called the girl in his wife’s presence and told her off . Told her that this is the end because Mr. Ashamed has finally realised  what a shitty husband he has been and that he doesn’t want to cheat on his wife anymore (yawn). But the wife was not sure of his words. Since, he was being too nice, I guess. He even gave the girl’s mobile and residence number to his wife just in case if she wants to check his phone in future. Yeah, this even sounds dodgy, doesn’t it? Especially from someone with his records.

Anyway, my cousin got really excited. Ideas started flooding her raging mind (I am sure an evil laugh would have also surfaced in the back ground). She came up with an evil plan. She decided that she will call the girl at her land line and will try to get her husband’s mobile. To tell him what his wife’s been up to behind his back. So that he can whoop her sorry ass. And who else to call her at her place than dear old me? Well, she didn’t want to call from an international number ‘cause she feared the girl would’ve an idea that her lover’s crazy wife might be calling. So she wanted me to call her from a local number and pretend to be some annoying sales person  and somehow manage to get her  husband’s mobile by asking about him (they had the name of the husband. They had done their homework).

Bad idea. To be honest, the story excited me a bit. To be very honest, I thought of being a part of this terrible scheme. I even got the details on the paper and laughed evilly  on the phone with my evil cousin. Plans were made. Dialogues were in practice. But later, I came back to sanity. I realised the potential damage we could inflict on someone’s married life. I even thought of asking for an advice from someone much sensible than me. And I did. From a few people. I don’t know why but while asking for the advice, I sounded miserable and almost forced to help my cousin whereas I was not . All this time, I knew I was not going to make that call.  

These are some signs that I usually ignore. Although I appear  and talk as if I am a very rough tough chick, that I speak and do what I feel is right, I am not very confident. Actually, I am a bit of a sissy. A chicken. I take time to muster up the courage to tell people what is right and what is wrong. More specifically, what I think is right or wrong.

While my restless cousin was eagerly texting me every day to check where have I reached on my mission, I was thinking. And rethinking. I didn’t made her wait too long though. I know how many days she waited ‘cause I have a text count for each day.

The first text was a funny reminder reflecting my poor cousin’s confidence in me. The second one was more like a threat while attempting to be funny. It went something like “are you waiting for her husband to run away to make an action?” and further recommended that I should put a turbo behind my back for being too too slow.

“ Oh yeah? I am not slow you sad cow!  You aggressive, eager, fiery little self you! I am just…. a pussy to be not able to tell you that this is wrong and you shouldn’t get involved and hence I won’t do it, period.

Sorry, that was my self-confident and outrageous alter ego. I love it when it takes over. But mostly it takes over only inside my mind. So I still appear (and sound) normal to people while my alter ego curses me inside my head.

The third message was written with a shattered heart. It had a swearing word but ended with a sad smiley. My cousin had lost hope in me. There was no game anymore. I ruined it. Me, the trust breaker. Me, the fun spoiler. Me, the house saver.

I finally thought rather than beating around the bush and making her restless even more, I should just say what I feel. I had already taken too much time and if I be honest, I don’t have to think a lot to make up a story (I do that at times to get out of a tricky situation). I texted my cousin that I think that it’s not a good idea because what if her angry husbands proceeds for a divorce? It means we would be responsible for their separation. She argued that the woman is also playing with someone else’s married life and that she should be punished. I agreed that it was very shallow of her to do something like this but we are no one to punish her. It is up to God to punish her for her wrong doings. How and when He punishes her, we can’t decide. I just don’t want us to be involved in breaking a family. I guess my last words did it for my cousin. It was not that hard after all.

What I learned from this? If I want to make a point about something I firmly believe in, I should not take long to present it, speak it out. It also saves time wasted in lies and excuses. I should try this more often.

Wow, it all went fine just by being truthful. Anything left to worry about? Hope my cousin didn’t lie to me when she agreed that it was not a nice thing to do and hopefully she didn’t contacted anyone else in England to make that nasty call. Ops, sorry M!

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Them Smelly Veggies

Them Smelly Veggies

Remember when you were a kid and your mom didn’t let you have the dessert because you didn’t finish your veggies?

A lot of my friends (and me), like any other child, never appreciated the numerous, horrendous vegetable delicacies that our respective moms wanted to stuff in our little mouths. We ran to bin them from our plates soon as Mama left the table. We tried tricking them by playing the Mummy-my-tummy-hurts kind of games. We even swapped plates with our younger siblings (Yes, older sibling always wins!) and claimed the leftovers were theirs.

I used to spread my veggies towards the corner of my plate leaving an empty space in the centre so that my mom would think I have eaten some. Most often she didn’t leave me until I took the spoon into my mouth and gulped it down! When I didn’t, she took over and grabbed me along with my plate and succeeded in her evil attempts. I, under her eagle eyes, helplessly chewed on to the green monsters between sobs! Sometimes I outsmarted her by quickly emptying the contents back to the saucepan with the exception of the time my monstrous sibling caught me in the act and threatened to tell mom if I said NO to her infinite favours!

But why was it so hard to like vegetables? Why didn’t we like eating the healthy, nutritious greeneries?

Well, I had my reasons. Being an Asian and raised by a mother who loves cooking more than she loves TV serials, we had 2 or 3 dishes on the dining table almost every day. Chicken or any other meat dish was crucial but then there had to be a veggie dish!!!  Partly to please my food-loving father and partly to keep us all healthy, green and prosperous!

Now Asian cuisines are famous for their richness and variety of flavours. Asian cuisines are also famous for the innumerable amount of spices, herbs, seasonings, God-knows-what and the unimaginable quantity of oil. Just about everything that can be cooked HAS to be soaked and drenched in oil. I feel pity for the vegetables in the saucepan. So much pain is inflicted on them. And the sequence just gets worse. Wash, Cut, Chop, Peel, Sliced, Boiled, Oiled and Immersed… sometimes even burned. It takes away all the naturalness and well, the nutrients. I’d rather eat raw vegetables that only need washing and some boiling to soften them. What’s with all the horrible interfusion?

I never liked Bhindi! (Okra) Even if it was crisped or drowned in oil. I wish if it could be served with salad to see how it tastes until much later when I tasted my mum’s Bhindi and realised it was not that bland but I’m still not a fan. I didn’t like it when mum made Qeema (Minced Meat), one of my few favourites and added Karelay (Bitter Gourd) in it!!! I mean she could’ve added Aaloo (Potato) or Matar (Peas) but No, it had to be Karwa Karela! Now I don’t get this. Bitter gourd is so ‘bitter’ then why go through the trouble of making it bearable to eat? Palak, Saag (Spinach & its cousin) and other leafy things were just about tolerable but Baigan (Aubergine) was, is and will never ever be liked by ME! If I have to give away the most loathed vegetable award to the veggie community, I will give it to Mr. Baigan only.

“Mr. Baigan, if you are out there and reading this, please know that I don’t have anything against you. I come in peace. Hence, I would never hurt you.”

Some other veggies that I can nominate for the same award would be Lauki (Bottle Gourd), Tinday (Round Gourd), Chukandar (Beetroot) & Phool Gobi (Cauliflower).

 Veggie lovers and vegans please don’t hate me but this is just my list, you guys can carry on tyrannising them.

On a different note, I wouldn’t mind having Gobi, Chukandar or even Phool Gobi in a salad as long as they taste original and don’t smell. Now that just reminded me of the day my colleague had a pack of ready-to-boil veggies and left the whole office smelling of boiled Broccolis. Trust me, when I got back after grabbing lunch from GREGGS, the whole office smelled as if some 70-year-old was on a 10 minute nonstop farting marathon!

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