Day's Mumblings

One of the things that finally convinced me to move to Canada was not my husband, but another man - Russel Peters. The guy's hilarious, although I have to say I thought he was sooo much funnier earlier in his career. Still, can't find fault with a desi who manages to become one of the top 10 earning comedians in the world. Technically he isn't desi of course, he's Canadian, but his parents are desi, so we'll claim his success as our own. We are like this only. Remember Salman Rushdie, Padma Lakshmi, Jhumpa Lahiri (although, isn't she Bangladeshi - oh well same difference), Amartya Sen - the list of people of Indian origin who make it big in the world, who we claim as our own is as long as its wide.

Anyway, I digress. I have a new colleague. She is an Indian girl, from the motherland Indian. She's from Bombay, did her MBA in Pune, although she is gujju. She also happens to be a hijab-wearing muslim. She's a smart, funny girl, and probably the first Indian like that I've met at work. I mean, another woman, similar age, similarly educated, from another big Indian metro. I realize as I talk to her, that really, that's all we desis need to "get" each other. As long as you're of the massive middle class, educated and from a similar sized city, we usually understand each other. Doesn't matter I was raised Protestant/Hindu and she Muslim. We both have our identities. However the stereotype of desis in North American media is as such, that people at our office are tremendously surprised that we actually hit it off.

"Wait, aren't hindus and muslims supposed to hate each other."

"Well, actually I'm a Christian."

"But you're Indian, aren't all north Indians hindus?"

"No."

"But muslims terrorize and bomb your people."

"No, actually that's ISI and LET, and they don't have much to do with Islam."

"But she wears a hijab, how can she work? Doesn't her family beat her."

"Its a personal choice. Leave her alone!"

"You're defending her????"

You know, I never actually realized how accepting Indians are until I moved here. I never thought once yesterday of asking my muslim colleagues (there are two - one from India, one from Pakistan) what they would get me to eat for Eid. Really, that's all I care about. Its bakra (goat) Eid after all. They laughed. The Indian girl will get me biryani even though she complained about it. The Pakistani girl has promised to make me sewai. Just like that.

Hearing my demands for food, my Canadian boss asked me if I too celebrated Eid because she knew I am Christian. She sounded so surprised. I told her, the sub-continent culture is very food oriented. As long as there is good food and a holiday involved, we celebrate anything and everything. She laughed. But really, its just that simple. I always had Hindu and Sikh colleagues asking for Christmas cake. The best Santa in office was always the one chubby Jain guy.

I miss that tremendously.

Now if only I can get someone to get me latkes for Hanukkah, I'll be set.

Crap...I forgot my drycleaning

Promises, promises...so much for them.

I forgot all about this little blogging effort. I remembered it out of the blue today when I was chatting with a colleague.

Nothing new has happened since. Well, my contract at work was extended another 2 months. So that's good news. What isn't good news is that it still isn't a permanent job. And this isn't even because of the recession. Its just how government works, even here in Canada. More so infact because unless your god mother or god father or uncle's daughter's mother in law works in the government, its next to impossible to get a permanent job.

I saw this awesome link on twitter today. Another blogger posted it and because it's so cool, I wanted to link to it too. This guy just tweets all the nonsensical things his dad says. Why didn't I think of that? Except in my case, it could be my mother in law. The lady is from Trinidad, and like most islanders has weird phrases that only other islanders can understand. Like yesterday, she was talking about another son of her's and called him a "grown boy". Which would be fine, except he's 31 and a doctor. Something tells me even he won't like being called a "grown boy".

Trinis have other weird things they say in that sing song acccent, which I'm very good at copying. Like this one aunt of my husband's told me our niece (a pretty little two-year old) would make all the boys fart. That's not very pleasant. What little girl wants to be the cause of locker room odors? As I looked on quizically, the aunt explained in Trini it means the boys will really like her and fall for her because she's so pretty, and as a result, they will fart (....?!!)

I have to say though, sometimes the Trini accent is a bit much for me. All that sing songy talking and laughing makes me want to hit them on the head...Am I the only one who feels this way?

Oh and yes, I forgot my drycleaning too.

Oh damn, and here's that Twitter link I was talking about -

http://twitter.com/shitmydadsays

First Act

I used to have a blog. In another life. Till the big city sucked the creativity right out of me.

I started missing it. My daily entries. My life on the display terminal. Cathartic. Reading comments people left behind. Perfect strangers like to laugh with (at me?) Ego booster like no other.

So I came back. Started this new blog. Hope to keep it going.

Brief history:

One desi girl with great career and awesome friends but non-existent love life goes online and meets a boy. Girl likes boy. Boy likes girl. They meet in the motherland for 2 weeks to learn more about each other. 10 days later boy and girl get engaged because they both got drunk (a whole different entry). The family, unlike those in Bollywood, suspiciously approves. Boy goes back home to his motherland. 4 months later, girl visits boy's country to meet boy's parents. 1 day later, they get married. Girl returns home to her great job with the love of her life saat samunder paar ("7 seas across" meaning very far away for the non-desis; desis - remember this song from Vishwatama? I loved the costumes. Where is Chunky Pandey these days?). Months later, in February, girl tearfully leaves homeland and moves to boy's land - Canada, downtown Toronto. Nearly three years later, with a great personal life, girl is still trying helplessly to revive a career on life support. Girl decides to snatch her creativity back.

Girl decides she has seen so much blog worthy stupidity and thought provoking things in Toronto, she cannot possibly keep silent any longer. So she types this up in notepad at work, so it looks like she's busy, and then opens a blog account and posts it, promising herself, to write something, anything every day for the next 7 days to get back into the groove.

Watch this space.