Once upon a time in 2006, I needed the money — and friends said they loved the food — so I decided to cater for friends’ parties. Except the first party I catered to, I ended up throwing this egg-sausage dish on the host’s face….
Read the story / Try the easy recipe

It’s a regular day. You two have been together for years, have built a house, a future, dreams together. You have your arguments and times you get irritated with each other, but overall, you’d say you are happy.

And then one fine day your partner — husband, fiance, long-time girlfriend — turns around says, “I don’t love you anymore.”
What will you do?
Pic = zazzy.com

UPDATE on 31/8/2009

Of the 10 early responses on this post, the common reactions to the questions above are:

1. Shock
2. Refusal to beg or self-pity
3. Hurt
4. Alimony, court, divorce
5. Be brave, move on

One response takes it as a sense of freedom; another is very cynical of the whole mushy-mushy thing says the declaration should not come as a shock. Waiting for more responses.

Other than the date mix-up where I missed the Fables and Fantasy reading, I’ve attended two sessions at the Melbourne Writers Festival. One was a sham-of-a-discussion about marketing in the digital age and another was a really good workshop about independent publishers (small press publishing), Amazon’s arm-wrestling tactics and integrating online-offline ventures.

The digital marketing talk/discussion was too short and involved the rep from publishing giant RandomHouse shamelessly selling his products/projects and blog-to-website case study, Jessa Crispin of Bookslut being so irritatingly laconic, it was a joke she was there at all. The only person who added some sort of value was Adam Noonan from Lonely Planet. Details about both events in another post.

One of the topics that came up in the digital marketing talk was Search Engine Optimisation (SEO); it got me looking into the statistics for this blog… Where are people coming from, what are they reading, how much are they reading etc. And the results worry me.

Yesterday, I put up that silly ’sex post’. It had nothing in it. The headline was “hot sex positions“. The blog got 234 total readers and 437 page loads. Sex sells (shrug). Even on days this blog is not updated — or the months it isn’t! — or has posts on books or other non-sex-things, there are still about 100-150 readers who come in…. It should make me happy. It does not.

According to my blog’s stats, the three most popular posts — that people search for and come here — involve child abuse, rape and women’s undergarments. And none of those people were/are looking to read a lecture.

1. Rape post: Rape and how to get away with it in India (click to read)
Written in Feb 2008 as a reaction to the increasing number of rape cases being reported in the media and the increasing number of rapes in New Delhi. However, my question is: Are those searching for “rape” or clicking on the Digg.com link to that post (thankyou whoever) coming in to read about why NOT to rape a woman or for some other reason?

2. Child abuse: I am busty teen writing about my first time
This was one of the earlier posts on the blog, written in 2006 after a particularly harrowing conversation with someone close, someone who had been abused. She still remains confused about it, was she abused? Or did she invite it?

What disturbs me now is that people/men/women come in to read that article expecting something salacious about teenage girls. Usual searches that point to that piece include keywords “busty”, “15 year old busty teen” or “teen girl naked”.

3. Morality and double standards: Bra, brazen and bolti bandh
Written in June 2008 in response to certain Indian right-wing political parties declaring that Indian women wearing jeans was “anti-Indian”. The post questioned the Indian moral police and was one of the episodes in the Mishraji stories. However, people click on that link because it has “bra” in it; and some are searching for naked pictures of the actress Rambha.

I am not complaining about search engines pointing to my blog, some people perhaps stay on, read, perhaps come back. What scares me is that people are searching for rape and abuse. That.

Sex. sex. SEX. sex. Sex. sex. SEX. sex.

Haan. That should do it. Ok, comments please.
Pic: Stefan.blog; xkcd

“Everything sounds funnier with the word F**K in it.”

That’s the little badge my classmate gifted me a couple of days ago. Do you:

1. Agree, f**k yeah.
2. Disagree, what is happening to the purity of language.
3. WTF?!

Now some facts — powered by Wikipedia of course:

1. F**k can be used as a noun, verb, adjective, adverb, pronoun, or interjection and can logically be used as virtually any word in a sentence.
2. Study of the attitudes of the British public found that f**k was considered the third most severe profanity and its derivative motherf**ker second. C**nt was considered the most severe.
3. Some have argued that the prolific usage of the word f**k has de-vulgarized it.
4. F**k… may be common in informal and domestic situations. (!)
5. The Canadian Press now considers f**k to be commonplace and has added usage advice to the Canadian Press Caps and Spelling guide.

And you can get more such nuggets here.
Pic courtesy: WebHamster, Wikimedia

The following picture might not be suitable for everyone; viewer discretion is advised. Since you’ve been warned, heart attacks and spewing cannot be blamed on this website.

Also, copyrights exist. If this photograph is found on your website — without a link to my website — you’re gonna be in trouble.

Will you eat that? That’s just one of the things I tried and nearly tried on our trip to Laos- Vietnam-Cambodia. Click on album link to see more.

For the record, those frogs ie. once alive frogs, were headless and skinless but were STILL JUMPING in the bowl. They were alive… Does it enhance their taste?

Also if any of you — especially the meat-eaters — go “Oh how cruel” when you see/saw the frog picture, please remember that goat, sheep, fish, cows, pigs etc ALL must feel the pain.

For those who eat lamb/goat/beef but frown at others who eat dogs, cats and horses, I have a question: Do you think it’s hypocritical that we choose to pet some animals while we eat the others? Or look down upon those who might eat everything?

Stuffing my face from Laos-Vietnam-Cambodia

I am constantly aware I am in a different land. It’s not fair to either ‘home’, to compare it to the other.

Delhi doesn’t look half as beautiful as Melbourne does at sunset.

And Melbourne does not smell as delicious as Delhi when it rains.

Like today. But shouldn’t the earth smell the same?

I miss that earthiness. Sometimes.
Pic: Lemon drop, flickr

This is turning out to be an idiot week for me. I am SO furious and I’m more furious because there’s no one else to be furious at but me. I am… gaaaaaaaaaaah.

So I have this stupid white board on which I supposedly write down important dates, things to do and such like. And so I marked, in bold, with a circle around it, 22nd August, ie, today to go to the Australian Centre for Moving Images (ACMI). The Melbourne Writers Festival kicked off yesterday and I was booked in for three events. Two are next week and this one I paid for and really wanted to attend.

Pics (l-r): Authors Tom Cho, Antoni Jach and Cyril Wong (Courtesy MWF)

It was called ‘Fable, Fantasy and the New Short Story’ with authors Tom Cho and Cyril Wong, and chaired by author Antoni Jach. So I rush to ACMI today, reach on time am very excited. Only for the guard to look at the ticket and tell me it was yesterday. He was right. I was stumped.

I am SO stupid. For the last two days I have been discussing and reading up on author Alice Pung — for other reasons and who’s event was today — and while thinking of Pung and wanting to for Fantasy managed to write the wrong f*****g date on the white board.

I am SO upset.

Found this post hiding in the written-but-not-published section. Brought back (weird) memories so publishing it now… Written on 22nd May, 2009, Luang Prabang, Laos. Also, I’m not editing it to retain the flavour.

Hello hello
the one thing i love about this blog is that i can be myself. phhhhrst to those who think that blogs are self-indulgent. Even if they are, so bloody what?

Today can be labelled as Rip Off Day…went to Tadse waterfall which had no water and no fall and we payed USD $ 3 for it. Yes, its meagre but someone is earning it and being ripped off is not a good feeling.

Back from a foot-leg and head-shoulder massage. OOOOOH they are bloody good. PArtner makes faces that i have never seen before. Bought a Terry Pratchet book. Itbasu should like it, though i wouldna said so if i weren’t drunk. As i have mentioned before, it takes very little to get me drunk. Today — after massage — it was but one Long Island Ice tea. bloody good drink i say. its my first in 3 days. The Laos beer is called ‘Beerlao‘ and i cannot have it because i just dont like beer. Pardon typos and weird English because right now i am thinking in English, Hindi and a smattering of Laos…

So bloody waterfall was dry and got bitten by 14 mosquitoes…i know because I counted. Then we slept off because I awoke at 5 am to shoot monks. Shoot as in camera. The monks are given little handfuls of sticky rice. Most menus here write it as “Stricky rice”, much like Indian menus that have “stop parantha”, which means stuffed paranthas. Phonetics is a funny business.

So i shot monks and spoke to a 1-year-old Canadian journalist. As in she’s been a reporter for a year. She’s taking a break from her work and her boyfriend. They’ve broken off for the period she’s travelling. I felt jaded. She called me jaded. Whatever.

BY the way, the massage girls said Indian girls are beautiful, while asking me if I wanted a pedicure. So i don’t think it was for me. It was for the dollars. Blah, whatever, I am 52 kgs. I just shouted because a huge ugly moth went down my cleavage. Everyone else gave me a look. To check out Partner, we are in a gay bar. It’s the only one that’s open. And it’s right on the street so. Thankgod Partner is a boobs-man and not a butts’ man…

Oh well. So much for being smart and all that, some days just aren’t meant for you.

(Phone ringing waiting for Partner to pick up)

Hello. (Partner sounding busy)

Hi, you’ve got a minute? Can I talk to you?

Yeah sure… (Partner’s voice changing now, expecting Something Serious)

No, no, nothing serious. Just wanted to tell you to mark 12th September on your calendar. It’s a Saturday and X friend’s birthday. He’s invited us…

Yeah sure. Where is it? (Partner sounding relieved and back to sounding busy now)

Oh it’s some place called TBA. Y’know like Q’Bar? Do you know where it is?

(Partner v.e.r.y. silent)

Hello? You there? No worries if you don’t know, I can always ask him later…

(Partner choking)

Hello? Are you all right? Are you choking? You don’t have to worry about TBA right away you…

HA. HA. HA.HA.

(Me, shocked) (Partner still laughing)

Baby… TBA is not a place. It’s To Be Announced.

OH. (Scowl)

HA. HA. HA.
(Me, hang up the phone)

So that’s the story and no matter how many of you would have known instantly what TBA was, I declare a war on abbreviations. I’ve had it with them. If RSVP wasn’t enough — and I still can’t remember the damn thing — now we’ve got a whole plethora of them.

There are the email ones, from cc, bcc, fyi, tc etc. To food-related, BYO, F&B etc. To the various gradings in movies, PG, UG, M, R… To the various emoticons. And of course, the one that I really cannot stand but am being forced to use… “xx” at the end of letters/mails/sms-es. It’s not even an abbreviation, it’s an alphabeticon (sic). Initially, and I dare you to laugh, I thought it meant ‘over-and-out’… Till I received an email with ‘xxxxx’ and there was a sudden ping! in my brain and I realised an ‘x’ meant a kiss. (So ‘xxxxx’ means the other is slobbering over you?)

Sigh. I’ve learned HTML to a degree, can understand CSS and even RSS (not Rashtriya Seva Sangh)… but I really cannot keep up with all this anymore. I can’t. I am 30. Please no.

PS: While looking for an appropriate picture to depict ‘idiot’ (should’ve used my own), came across Fyodor Doestoevsky’s The Idiot and this quote from the book,

“…nothing offends a man of our day and our race more than to tell him he is not original, that he is weak-willed, has no particular talents and is an ordinary person.” (Part One, Chapter Ten)

And to think that was first published in 1868. It holds true today as well, or so I think. No?

So ’superstar’ Shah Rukh Khan is allegedly detained for two hours at the Newark airport. Allegedly because US customs officials say the delay/checks were only “a little more than hour” and the rest of the delay was because SRK’s luggage was lost. The Indian media — not surprisingly at all — raised a furore about it. The Times of India cried that SRK had been detained for being a Khan. IBNLive.com quotes Indian Home Minister P Chidambaram saying, “US overdid it with SRK”. (Et tu Chidu?)

Quick flashback here: On 21st April 2009, former Indian president APJ Kalam was frisked at the Indira Gandhi International airport prior to boarding a Continental Airlines flight. The airlines was subsequently pulled up and made to apologise. Interestingly though, the frisking happened despite the Indian government having a list of VIPs who do not require security checks. This list was ignored by the US Transportation Security Administration (TSA), the US governing body responsible for security of US transportation systems.

Given that certain Indian VIPs have some dubious — if yet unproven — distinctions on their resumes, why should there be a list at all? Some examples: Narenda Modi was allegedly involved in the Godhra burnings (cleared of charges in 2008). Former home minister LK Advani was the alleged mastermind of the Babri mosque demolition. and Bollywood filmstar Sanjay Dutt was allegedly involved in the 1993 Mumbai blasts (since cleared of terrorism charges but to serve six years in prison for possession of illegal arms, ie, an AK-47 gun). Stepping outside Indian borders, US President Richard Nixon was involved in the Watergate scandal and Bill Clinton was impeached (and acquitted a year later). WHY should VIPs — anywhere in the world — be exempt from any rules and regulations?

If former president APJ Abdul Kalam was frisked at New Delhi airport, why not Khan in the US? As for SRK’s detention, it’s apparently because ‘Khan’ is a most-common name in the US names database. Why should that shock anyone? For instance, according to Wikipedia, if you check in the United Kingdom, Khan is the surname of “over 80,000 Britons and is of only a handful of non-British or Irish originating surnames to be in the 100 most common surnames list.^” (Full list here)

So the US is stopping and questioning all Khans. Racism? Minority profiling? Preventing another terrorist attack? Maybe all, maybe not. What I’d like to know is whether we are crying out because a Muslim was detained for too long or because it is a Bollywood star who was stopped?

I have a feeling it’s the latter. Midday quotes actors Irrfan Khan and Zayed Khan as being “humiliated” because they were detained for questioning. Were they abused? Were they called names? If regular, non-VIP people are being stopped and need to follow procedures, why should there be a furore when filmstars are involved?!

If a Rashid Khan or Bashir Khan or some other Khan is stopped, it is okay because they could be terrorists? Actor Irrfan Khan — who I interviewed in 2000 and seemed quite intelligent back then at least — has been quoted saying, “…Surely they can tell the difference between a terrorist and an innocent traveler.” Arre miyan, terrorism is not coded in the DNA you know.

To cut a long story short, why are we getting our underwear in knots over SRK’s detention? If it is human rights violation, sure take it up but NOT because it’s some VIP-rights violation. If we find the US security checks too stringent, perhaps we should stop whining and do something with our security issues as well. Lest we forget that in the recent Mumbai attacks of 2008, Kasab and others simply got off a bloody boat…

PS: As for SRK insisting the US needs to offer warmth, please shutup.
Pic courtesy: Beyondasiaphilia

According to Devil Wears Prada, size 6 is the new size 8. But I don’t care.

While shopping for a new pair of jeans — to go with the new pair of boots — I fit into a size 6 jeans! And that when size 8 has been getting tighter! And my bum bigger, or I think it looks it! But I fit into a size 6 jeans. Yippee yea! I will always buy Country Road.

And the joys of discovering you fit into a size 6 jeans?
A can of Coca Cola
A packet of extra fried, extra salty potato chips… with gravy
Chocolate icecream
2 Oreole cookies…and a whole lot of guilt-free staring at Timtams and Snickers bars.

PS… and ignoring the muffin top.
Pic courtesy: G Images

I’ve had two productive days now. Days where I’ve maniacally cleaned the house, ticked off stuff from my to-do list and written some. Yesterday was class-day and after some workshopping and one-on-one with the professor, I was at the coffee shop for a much-needed sugar-hit. As I collected my cappuccino, joked about my sugar intake — two-and-a-half teaspoons — and extended my arm to pay, a girl barged in.

She was Indian, perhaps 17-18 years old, looking scared and tired. She pushed the others lining up for coffee and demanded in broken English, “Iwanjoeb.” The cafe girl couldn’t understand her. The Indian girl clutched her bag closer to her chest and repeated, “Iwanjoeb.” Her accent was… unintelligible. The others around were staring at her, some confused, some amused, some irritated. I was still holding out the change for my coffee. The cafe girl looked at me.

I asked the Indian girl, “Naukri chahiye?” (You want a job?) She looked at me, scared, nodded. There was a boy standing behind her, barely older than her, looking angry… I took them outside, made them sit. They obeyed… they were so trusting, it was scary and was making me very uncomfortable.

“Do you have a CV?” I asked.
She looked confused.
“Resume?”
She still looked confused.
“Do you have a bio-data?”
Light finally dawned.
“Nahin. No, I don’t have,” was her response.
“You will need a bio-data to get a job.”
“I did not know that… I don’t know where to get one,” she replied.
“You don’t ‘get’ one, you have to write one.”
“What do I have to write in it? I don’t know.”
I was stunned.
“When did you come here?”
“Three months back.”
“From?”
“India… Punjab…(city name)*.”
“Student visa?”
“Yes.”
“What college?”
“XXXX* university.”
“What are you studying there?”
“Multimedia.”
“Who told you to come to this cafe and ask for a job?”
She hesitated now, looked at the boy, who so far had not said a word.
“They said I should walk into places and ask…”
“Have you worked before?”
She shook her head. No.

I knew it was a stupid question. She came from a small town in Punjab, right out of school. From what I know about similar backgrounds, she probably ever only stepped out of the house to go to school, perhaps accompanied by her father or brother. I asked her about the “they”, she looked uncomfortable and began fidgeting with the strap of her bag. On further questioning she mentioned she had cleared her 10+2 (grade 12) last year with “non-medical” and a 60 per cent. ‘Non-medical’ for those outside India means she studied physics, chemistry and mathematics. I asked her if she had cleared it under the Central Board of Secondary Education (CBSE), which is the national education board. She had done her schooling under the Punjab state board. Further, a mere 60 per cent would not get you into a ‘good’ college in India.

In my conversation with her, she could barely manage to speak basic English. Even her Hindi was laced with a thick Punjabi accent. The boy didn’t speak and looked around at everyone suspiciously. I didn’t know what to do… so I pulled out my resume and showed it to her. She asked if it was okay for her to simply mention her school degree and the college she was studying in… I said yes. We parted ways. She perhaps went away hopeful, I remained shaken up.

I came back home and checked the website for the college the girl mentioned. It provides courses in multimedia, hairdressing and community welfare amongst others. All vocational courses. It has a student services section that apparently provides help on accommodation service, airport pickup and also has a job club. According to the ‘job club’ website, students are provided help in the form of, “… students are shown how to write their resume in English and are given individual advice on how and where to look for a job during the session… . students assistance with finding a job.”

If those are the services provided by the job club, why was that girl walking around without a resume? Without any clue how to go about things? Did she not approach the job club? Or did she not understand what the job club said? When speaking to her, it was apparent her English was far inferior to the minimum needed to continue any life here.

On checking the college website, the basic requirement of English for a multimedia course is a score of 5.5 on the IELTS course. Now the IELTS exam has four sections, one of them is spoken English. If she couldn’t say “I want a job” clearly and could not even string two sentences…how did she clear the IELTS? How did she get a seat in the college?

Every week here, there have been stories in the media about the entire Indian-student-visa-scam. The Australian media is going a darned good job of looking deeper. Quite unlike the Indian media, which created a furore about students being beaten up in Australia, labelled the country ‘racist’ and has since not bothered to delve into the subject any further. On Monday night, TV channel ABC1’s investigative programme 4 Corners had a very good investigation on the issue. The programme was called Holy Cash Cows.

Reporter Wendy Carlisle looked at the reason behind the rise in the number of Indian students in vocational courses over the last five years, the scams operating in Australia and India that allow unqualified students to come into the country — forging IELTS scores, work qualitifcations etc — and further migration scams that provide similar fraudulent documents to enable such students (and others) to apply for permanent residency in Australia.

Who is to blame for this?

Is it the Australian govt that needs to have some sort of checking system in place, but does not seem to be doing it? Is it the education and migration agents who are providing wrong information and fraudulent documents? Is it the private universities here that are taking in students and then turning a blind eye towards helping them?

Or is it the students who are looking for a better life at any cost and by any means? It is implicit there is a section of students who come to Australia to eventually seek permanent residency (PR). However, not all students do so. There are those who merely seek an education and go back. What needs to be understood here is that just BECAUSE a student is applying for an Australian permanent residency does NOT mean the Australian government will grant them one.

Even if a student completes his/her ‘points’ — points define eligibility for PR, you get points for the education you’ve had, work experience, etc — the prerogative to GRANT a permanent residency lies with the Australian government. YOU DO NOT AUTOMATICALLY GET PERMANENT RESIDENCY. Those Australians whose major problem/fear seems to be that Indians/other immigrants will “come here and not go back” need to understand that no one can forcibly stay in this country. The Australian government can refuse.

According to figures quoted in news reports, there are 90,000 Indian students. All of them are NOT staying on in Australia. In fact it is ridiculous to think so. If, according to reports, “so many” Indian and other international students are getting in and staying on… Who is allowing them?

*Names withheld back to avoid identification.
Pic courtesy: AFP

I’ve been bloody irregular. I am sorry. Or perhaps I am not. Why should I be? No one pays me to write. No one gives a damn either. Or maybe they do.

It’s not that there aren’t things/topics to write on. There are. But does my opinion matter? Do my thoughts count? Who the eff am I anyway? Or who do I think I am?

There was a time I was bloody particular about my name. Now the name — it’s phonetic challenge and ‘exotic’ value — have become a bane. ‘Jhoomur’ once, was known. Now I include ‘JB’ in my resume as well. Just in case ‘they’ — whoever they might be — cannot pronounce my name… Or throw my resume in the bin because of, “What the eff’s a jhoomur?”

There’s a phrase here, “She’s a goer.” It means someone who strives, who doesn’t let up, a ‘go-getter’. Some smart people have also said that when the going gets tough, the tough get going. It sounds bloody cool. But when the tough get going too hard, they end up with tired feet. A broken spirit. Humiliation and an identity crisis.

I blame it on the media. A press card — that small rectangle with your name, designation and declaration of affiliation with a media house are big things. They begin defining who you are. They defined me for 10 years. Now it’s what the eff’s a jhoomur. From being interviewed to not getting interviews and not even being eligible for making sandwiches. And people think immigrants just walk in and take native jobs?! How? Where? Can they teach me?

And to think that I chose to leave it all… Personally, I couldn’t be happier. But the moment I begin considering the ‘personal’ in context of just Me — removed from other people, love, etc — it begins to irk. Gnaw. Eviscerate.

Ironically, when I’ve blazed professionally, my personal life has been in the pits (even deeper under). Yet now that the personal angle is happy, I crave that rectangle that was me. My hard work, what I had nurtured… From being ’someone’, to being a mere ‘huh’.

Now I am beginning to get scared. The tough get going… But what if I am not tough?
Pic courtesy: Sojones

Hmmm. So in the one year of my moving to Australia, I’ve put on 13 kgs. And in the one week of my being ill and not being able to eat anything — was on the drip for a couple of days — I lost 6 kgs. Now I’m fluctuating between 50-52 kilos. And I need to stabilise at about 47kg.

Weight is one of the things I’ve been thinking of. Indian students being beaten up in Australia is another. After “What do you think of Slumdog Millionnaire?”, the latest too-frequently-asked-question has become, “You must think Australians are really bad. Do you?” It’s usually the same, part statement followed by doubtful question.

Some people get squeamish when they talk about it. There are those — like the boutique owner in Torquay — who get defensive and angry that they have to get defensive. Then there are those who seem to look for a fight and an argument: If you say Australia is racist, you’ll have an argument; if you say all this could be a huge misunderstanding and media overkill, there’s still an argument. Then there are those who get overly apologetic and critical about Australians and how they have a “serious issue about racism.”

Keeping aside the fact that no one should have to face violence, sometimes it feels that the real issue is getting lost. It’s become about Australia-bashing; no one seems to be asking what really is being done FOR the international students. Or for that matter, what the various international communities are doing to adjust to life in Australia. If the Oz government needs to reevaluate its education system, the various international communities ALSO need to look at various things they need to do before sending their kids here. Or for whatever else is needed to help them… If on one hand, international students need to learn to adapt to the ways of another country; on the other, locals also need to be made aware of the nationalities coming into their country. At the end of the day, we are NOT talking illegal immigrants. These students have been invited to study in Australia. At the same time, the students also need to remember they are in another country with its own culture, rules and ways of life.

Personally, no one has beaten me or been racially aggressive towards me. I study at a university with a lot of international students; my class has been majority white. They have laughed at my accent, I’ve made fun of their English or ‘Australian’ as they speak it here. I’ve had professors who have given me the time of their day. It could be because I am paying a hell of a lot for this course. Or because I am working really hard at uni and the profs can see that too. I have been invited to every event/party/function organised by classmates. I’ve had Australians calling up and enquiring about my health when I’ve been ill. I’ve even had bitching sessions with Australian chicks about other people. And there was nothing racist there, we were just being chicks.

The last time I worked in a restaurant, it was the first job I’d applied for. My cv said I was an Indian and that I had no experience in hospitality. I was still called for a trial and got the job — at the same wage rates as Australian staff — and my boss was happy with my work. It was a white majority restaurant and we served majority whites. I did not face racism and was as cheeky with ‘white’ clients as I’d be with Indians. I am naturally cheeky, it has not changed in another country. There was one woman who tried being nasty, but it worked out beautifully. I took the insults for a couple of weeks, then gave it back to her. And my colleagues and boss stood by me. They were all Australian.

Does that mean that there have been no ‘funny’ incidents? There have, but usually from small-minded, stupid people. And sincerely, small-minded, stupid people are the same ANYWHERE in the world. You ignore them. Likewise, the common sensical rules for staying safe are also the same everywhere in the country. Would Indians be walking with a laptop, late at night in Paharganj? Why would you do it in Footscray then? Anyway.

The third focus for me has been employment or the lack thereof. I want a job. I need a job. I am bored with the idea of sitting at home. And I really want to earn some money. I start on the last semester of my course, which wraps in November. Didn’t do too badly in the previous semester…however, I have a strong suspicion that the degree is not really one that gets you jobs. I have to get cracking on the manuscript. But that wouldn’t get me a job either. Applied to two restaurants, neither bothered to respond. And no, I don’t think my not getting a job has anything to do with racism. It’s called economic downturn. Sigh.

Anyway. What’s up with y’all?
Pic courtesy: Siasat.com

Hmmm. So in the one year of my moving to Australia, I’ve put on 13 kgs. And in the one week of my being ill and not being able to eat anything — was on the drip for a couple of days — I lost 6 kgs. Now I’m fluctuating between 50-52 kilos. And I need to stabilise at about 47kg.

Weight is one of the things I’ve been thinking of. Indian students being beaten up in Australia is another. After “What do you think of Slumdog Millionnaire?”, the latest too-frequently-asked-question has become, “You must think Australians are really bad. Do you?” It’s usually the same, part statement followed by doubtful question.

Some people get squeamish when they talk about it. There are those — like the boutique owner in Torquay — who get defensive and angry that they have to get defensive. Then there are those who seem to look for a fight and an argument: If you say Australia is racist, you’ll have an argument; if you say all this could be a huge misunderstanding and media overkill, there’s still an argument. Then there are those who get overly apologetic and critical about Australians and how they have a “serious issue about racism.”

Keeping aside the fact that no one should have to face violence, sometimes it feels that the real issue is getting lost. It’s become about Australia-bashing; no one seems to be asking what really is being done FOR the international students. Or for that matter, what the various international communities are doing to adjust to life in Australia. If the Oz government needs to reevaluate its education system, the various international communities ALSO need to look at various things they need to do before sending their kids here. Or for whatever else is needed to help them… If on one hand, international students need to learn to adapt to the ways of another country; on the other, locals also need to be made aware of the nationalities coming into their country. At the end of the day, we are NOT talking illegal immigrants. These students have been invited to study in Australia. At the same time, the students also need to remember they are in another country with its own culture, rules and ways of life.

Personally, no one has beaten me or been racially aggressive towards me. I study at a university with a lot of international students; my class has been majority white. They have laughed at my accent, I’ve made fun of their English or ‘Australian’ as they speak it here. I’ve had professors who have given me the time of their day. It could be because I am paying a hell of a lot for this course. Or because I am working really hard at uni and the profs can see that too. I have been invited to every event/party/function organised by classmates. I’ve had Australians calling up and enquiring about my health when I’ve been ill. I’ve even had bitching sessions with Australian chicks about other people. And there was nothing racist there, we were just being chicks.

The last time I worked in a restaurant, it was the first job I’d applied for. My cv said I was an Indian and that I had no experience in hospitality. I was still called for a trial and got the job — at the same wage rates as Australian staff — and my boss was happy with my work. It was a white majority restaurant and we served majority whites. I did not face racism and was as cheeky with ‘white’ clients as I’d be with Indians. I am naturally cheeky, it has not changed in another country. There was one woman who tried being nasty, but it worked out beautifully. I took the insults for a couple of weeks, then gave it back to her. And my colleagues and boss stood by me. They were all Australian.

Does that mean that there have been no ‘funny’ incidents? There have, but usually from small-minded, stupid people. And sincerely, small-minded, stupid people are the same ANYWHERE in the world. You ignore them. Likewise, the common sensical rules for staying safe are also the same everywhere in the country. Would Indians be walking with a laptop, late at night in Paharganj? Why would you do it in Footscray then? Anyway.

The third focus for me has been employment or the lack thereof. I want a job. I need a job. I am bored with the idea of sitting at home. And I really want to earn some money. I start on the last semester of my course, which wraps in November. Didn’t do too badly in the previous semester…however, I have a strong suspicion that the degree is not really one that gets you jobs. I have to get cracking on the manuscript. But that wouldn’t get me a job either. Applied to two restaurants, neither bothered to respond. And no, I don’t think my not getting a job has anything to do with racism. It’s called economic downturn. Sigh.

Anyway. What’s up with y’all?
Pic courtesy: Siasat.com

Oh well. Have had high fever for the last two days, cough, cold, whole lot of shivering.

First the doctors said it could be malaria. Then they said it could be typhoid. Today finally we found out that I have ’swine flue’.

Might be out of action for a bit. Take care, all.

…. and so bloody lazy. Laaaaaaaaaaazeeeeeeeeeeee.

Just look at the place… need I write more? We stayed at the White Sand Resort, Doklet (pronounced ‘jok-let’). And just did not want to leave.
I am grateful that someone invented the camera. Sunrise like this is hard to imagine. Or maybe because my imagination sucks. Is there a name for the colour of the sky?!

That’s my thong/slipper. The crab is not a pet, though it was bloody curious.