Monday, January 30, 2006
It sucks to now have limited mobility which I am told will get better over the next month but I have no idea what to do with all the energy I do have since now I have no way to expend it. It also hurts to breath and that too sucks.
my friend Yusufi just started a blog and when I can will link his blog up to mine. It's called, we live in a political world and his two posts end on sombre tones. He is currently in Damascus and it's interesting what he has written and I am not saying that everything should be seen from rose colored glasses, absolutely not and that is not the way that I see the world but still, a little bit of a positive attitude can go a long way. Or atleast I think it can.
I need to take some painkillers.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
The bumps of the birthday boy. Please note the cigarette in Emma's hand mentioned in another post below.
Me and Harald. He was forever shielding his eyes from the bright lights in the all the photos. I, on the other hand, revel in it, it would seem.
I am a control freak as you can tell. Here I am directing everyone, or attempting to, as they try and seat themselves for dinner at my place. Clody on the right hand side of the photo had this brilliant idea earlier in the day of a seating arrangement for dinner and since Bill and I were present while she was making the chart, we got the cool seats. Really what happened was that Bill insisted that he sit between myself and Clody. This was not how we ended up sitting, by the way. This is the mass confusion prior to that.
This is a photo that my elder sister sent us a long time ago (2003) when she was in india. She was bored and lonely and went around her house taking photos of this blue disney character....I think the name of this character is Lilo...or Stitch, but we call him (we gave it a gender, it's a boy!), garr garr. I don't know why we do, but we do. So, this is one of my all time favorite photos and it is of Garr Garr writing my sister's dissertation for her. Which is still not written but we don't talk about it or mention the D word in her presence.
My sister (her name is Uzma but I call her Appie which means elder sister. Saying Uzma sounds funny to me), anyhow, Appie also sent a picture of Garr Garr with a surgical mask on since SARS had just come out onto the scene at that time. That was hysterical as well. I guess you have to be related to me to get why all of this is funny. It's still a good photo.
The LTTE and the GoSL have decided to meet in Geneva. This is very good news. It means we can work in peace for a little bit longer. This past week with no movement restrictions was like seeing the lunch bell ring and everyone rushing out to get to the Field to work. It also means there might be some hope for peace on this island. I am an optimistic person and yes, peace is all good and stuff but there is a deep rooted racism in this country that needs to go and that will not happen for a while. I know it is a process and a step by step one at that, but it makes me angry. They are all bloody brown people and why can't we all just get along? Same reason that my parents had to leave India when they were babies. Same reason we had to leave Pakistan.
I hope to never get to the point where I feel completely powerless to change the world I live in. Even if it is a small teeny tiny, itty bitty, eensy weensy part of it, which it will be, I can change something.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
for description of the photo, go to the post two below titled, a lovely weekend. i finally was able to upload the photo. also, vero looks taller than me. she is really not. im the shortest in my household so when im taller than other people, i like it to be known. and as i say ad naseum...im tall for my people.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
I cannot believe I just had a conversation where at one point I said, I'm not 15, but 28. That is something a 15 year old would have said.
I love my mom. I look very much like her. Chooti Nishat(mini Nishat) people used to call me. We have a very cool realtionship actually where I decided that unlike other South Asian parents and kids, I was actually going to tell my mother about my life. I do. It is NOT easy for either of us but we live with and try to be as honest to each other as possible.
Sometimes, it is not about honesty but about respect and knowing what a person can hear and what they cannot hear. Well...that is kind of wrong actually. Respect is when you can trust that the person can hear anything you have to tell them and can deal with it. Not to shield people you love from things about yourself. I am one of the lucky people who has unconditional love from family. It did come with work but it is there. Thank god.
Doesn't really make my life easier but it does keep it interesting since I have no idea how long it will be between conversations till my mom will randomly start on a topic that I know she has steeled herself for.
I always miss her hands the most.
we had a party at my house (people reading this blog expecting me to make some grand statements about Sri Lanka must be sorely disappointed since i dont and will not be doing so...also sounds like i party a lot. that is true. i like to enjoy myelf and not be a martyr to a cause and the fact that i am away from everything i know and love is reason enough for me to find reasons to be happy...don't i sound super defensive).
so, yes, the party. it was great. made turkey, had people over, later had more people over, gave the birthday boy some birthday bumps which while i was growing up in pakistan i thought was a paki thing but i guess like almost everything else, we inherited it from the brits.
was told by bill that he doesnt like to read my blog since i dont use capital letters and that pisses him off but since he is a grumpy old fart, im not paying attention to him.
Just for Bill, I will start using proper writing. I am just so used to word doing it for me that I no longer bother. Probably a good idea to get myself in the habit of doing so. For what purpose, I am not entirely sure, but it is do-able.
The photo by the way, is of me and Vero right after all the girls of ampara had given Patrick his birthday bumps. He doesn't look heavy but is. Somehow Emma managed to smoke a cig while giving him bumps and I am still unclear on hw she managed that feat but i supposed when the nicotine monster calls, you answer. She did mention that she was afraid that she might have burnt Patrick's butt but since we have no complaints, I suppose his ass is just fine.
My computer is being annoying and will not keep charging. I have to plug and un plug it every once in a while to get it to charge. This must be the downward spiral of my lap top. Need to be careful to keep backing my stuff up every day...which is not something I am good about.
Instead of writing since my brain really is no longer working today, will just post photos and more photos. It is more fun that way. When it works.
Actually, no photos at all today since it has decided to be bad and not work. Later then.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
i couldn't find salman khan, trees and couldn't use my hands since i had to take these photos myself. we work with what we have. i must love u lots to humor you enough to take and then post this awful photo. muah!
that is how i usually start my journal entries. i should just call it a diary since that is what it is when and when we get older we feel like we have to call it a journal since somehow the thoughts are more important and thus deserve a more matoooor sounding word. i think i was 15 when i stopped writing, dear diary....
anyhow, i do still keep a 'journal'. running and writing are two ways for me to manage my stress, both of which i had substitued with sex and alcohol and then realized, that was a bad idea. sex and alcohol are still my friends though. well, sex...u know what, never mind. not a discussion for now. or ever. well, never say never. i didnt, i said ever, but don't go get all technical with me.
so...the photo. Emma and Byron. Byron is still new so i am holding out on judgement. ha ha. kidding, he is lovely and was lucky that we all love his girlfriend already and so didnt put him through the ampara hazing process. Emma is a sweetheart and in fact was just over for dinner and it was lovely to just cook together, smoke together, and watch TV and talk. the house was empty which when you share with your colleagues as i do, is nice on some nights.
i like living with people. used to live with 8 in a cooperative. in brooklyn. every tuesday night i had to cook for all 8 of us which actually, i do enjoy and other nights of the week, there was a nice dinner waiting for me when i got home. yay. that was really fun, living in the coop on 70 s. elliot, fort green, bklyn, ny. we had a house book in which the passive agressive amongst us would like to complain about stupid petty things (please stop leaving one bite of food in the containers in the fridge so that u dont have to wash them! or..well this other one im thinking about is funny but it was like five pages of the book and everyone got involved and half of us thought it was fun and games and the other half did not. it culminated into a house meeting which were definetely never fun). i almost made a film about us (how many, almost made a film stories do i have...? not as many as the other new yorkers that you may meet). after filming one house meeting and a monologue, i was done with that project. watching myself talk to the camera was just scary so i resolved to bury the film and never appear on film again. i never did bury it and have since then broken my resolve to never appear on tv.
maybe some day i will make a film. would rather not.
i feel like i fucked off today but really did get a lot of work done so i guess i should just chill out and be ok with the fact that i didnt go to the field because of the hartal and that there are things still unresolved but whatever is in my control, i have taken care of. the rest of it, i have to let go and realize that everyone is not me, and things take time and i just have to be patient. which i hate doing.
deep breaths, deep breaths.
ok trying to post more photos now. for appie.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
if i were a cinnamon peeler
i would ride your bed
and leave the yellow bark dust
on your pillow
your breasts and shoulders would reek
you could never walk through markets
without the profession of my fingers
floating over you. the blind would
stumble certain of whom they approaced
though you might bathe
under rain gutters, monsoon.
here on the upper thigh
at this smooth pasture
neighbour to your hair
or the crease
that cuts your back. this ankle.
you will be known among strangers
as the cinnamon peelers wife.
i could hardly glance at you
never touch you
--your keen nosed mother, your rough brothers,
i buried my hands
in saffron, disguised them
over smoking tar,
helped the honey gatherers....
when we swam once
i touched you in water
and our bodies remained free,
you could hold me and be blind of smell.
you climed on the bank and said
this is how you touch other women
the grass cutter's wife, the lime burner's daughter.
and you searched your arms
for the missing perfume
what good is it
to be the lime burner's daughter
left with no trace
as if not spoken to in the act of love
as if wounded without the pleasure of a scar.
your belly to my hands
in the dry air and said
i am the cinnnamon
peeler's wife. smell me.
People are cutting and burning each other. that's all i really want to say about Ampara today. i dont like it.
so, i seem to be having conversations with people about things i've been writing about on my blog. that's nice. they've never read my blog but perhaps there is something in the air that makes us all want to think and talk about the same things. i wonder how that works into jared diamonds 'guns germs and steel' theory.
so, im grappling with the idea, gently of course for now, that i might be evil. i like yelling at people. i get such a kick out of hauling peoples asses into gear. i dont know if that is a sick thing or not. i came out of a meeting today that i went into grumpy and sleepy and walked out refreshed and on fire. this was not the contingency planning meeting but another one. what gets me going is knowledge. i love information. i am living foucaltian theory. knowledge is indeed power. how smart he was. i wonder if other people were thinking the same thing when he was actually recording and writing it, which is of course the important part of all of this. recording and writing it down since not all of us are Homers. Doh!
but seriously, the first time i encountered foucault, he annoyed the shit out of me since i couldnt pin him down to anything and this whole knowledge is power thing i thought was a cute catch phrase. how stupid i was. nothing is more powerful.
and i love it.
ok, so what photo for today...hmmm. ok, one of my new favorites of my younger sister who i think looks totally hot in this photo because she is. this is from when she was in karachi, just recently, hanging out with her friends who all somehow became celebrities. i havent kept up with pakistan but my other paki friends confirm, that yes, they are indeed celebrities. and good at what they do...(musicians). no photos of the celebs. their music is really good though. check out noorie, a paki rock band. i think its rock. i suck at being a good older sister who keeps up with everything in her sisters life. she is too jet set for me.
Monday, January 16, 2006
i was hanging my hand and camera out the window a lot. which was fun. it always is till someone lops off ur hand. esp when u have a good looking camera dangling from it.
This one i like a lot. we were walking somewhere from somewhere, i have no idea since, really, i didnt have the energy to know and just wanted to walk unhindered by anything, especially directions and information and all of a sudden, i walked by this lane and liked it so i took a photo.
it is indeed, another monday. i guess that makes it a week since i have been blogging. hurrah for that. everytime is say hurrah i feel like i should be in an english rose garden throwing my straw hat up in the air. i should also be blond and blue eyed with ruddy cheeks.
it's all the enid blyton i read in pakistan growing up.
The photo by the way, is of my very good friend saniya, in bombay. she was taking us to Chor Bazaar. this is her in her element. front seat, directing and simultaneously giving us a tour of the area, keeping track of the other taxi following us, looking good and yelling at our driver.
the political situation in the country does not seem to be getting better, but the only way i can tell is by reading the newspapers. where i live, in Ampara, we don't feel the rumblings that much anymore...or perhaps i have gotton used to them and it's normal. people are killed but our movements are no longer restricted so we just hope not to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. the more serious stuff is taking place north of me in Trinco and Jaffna. i guess we just wait and see and continue working. what else are you gonna do? it reminds me of being in karachi and yes, there were riots and one was never sure what the next day was going to bring but you didnt stop life and living and living with uncertainty becomes normal. i was not old or aware enough to see what is was doing to people around me, how they dealt with the stress. it felt normal at the time.
friends and family have been emailing me after reading my blog and i have been getting interesting comments on the blog. one said it was kinky that i was publishing my 'diary' for all to see, another said it was impersonal.
i really dont know how i see it. i do write free style and i enjoy that. i rarely, if ever, edit what i have written. i do love editing other peoples work though :) i do that alot in SL, as a 'native' speaker.
the end of the year bought on an exodus of many friends i had made here. damn them all for leaving me here. i find it incredibly rude and mean of them. that means you reza, sitting on a thai island somewhere, reading my blog. i never saw the movie the island, i think it was called, but i know bad things happened to people on a paradise thai island so watch your back, boy.
reza was cool. i guess is cool. i have a photo of him somewhere, will post it soon. most of our local colleagues love asking where we are from, and reza hated answering that question. ha ha. especially with a name like reza in a majority muslim area, he would have to inevitably answer the are u muslim question and it was always fun to hear the multitude of ways in which he tried to avoid that question.
i on the other hand have many lies all over the district as to what i am religion wise, country wise and civil status wise. it depends on who i am talking to. i can be a paksitani who prays ten times a day, and has 3 kids or be an immoral american sinner. everyone does think im married. that is important. that is always the first question. mostly i tell everyone im pakistani. it makes my work much easier. which is funny on so many different levels.
i feel lucky that i am able to use my identity so fluidly. i think sometimes it pisses people off. i am so many different 'things' though and the different sides of myself pop out of me in the weirdest scenarios and places that i just deal with it. so there isnt just a definitive Z, but different versions of her. i like that. it keeps me from being bored.
that's important. i hate being bored. i don't do it gracefully. i am actually appalling to be around when bored. or hungry.
hungry Z is a scary Z.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
Friday, January 13, 2006
i will get savvy about this later and post the photos first and then have the writing...today is not that savvy day. both photos together make the correct impact of the situation. there is the coastal road between two villages and at one point there is the road with the sea on one side and a lagoon on the other side. that road, which you cannot see in this photo but in the one below, has flooded. the road is all broken up and fucked up to begin with so this is just incredible to see trucks and people and bikes trying to navigate it.
the photo credit goes to Elaine from UNICEF, im not sure if she took these photos but she sent them to all of us here. it is pissing down rain everyday. as a south asian, there has always been a romance attached to the rain for me, but man, this is crazy...and it has just started. as a child, my memory of rain is the one time it rained in karachi, pakistan. it was an exciting time and my sisters and i went out in the rain which is the still the first reaction i have when it starts to rain...i want to go stand outside and get soaked. american rain should have cured me of that because it's cold and nasty, but it has not. there are too many songs, too much poetry attached to it for me.
i've had some lovely rain moments in ampara...there was playing frisbee in the rain but that was a little uncomfortable since my shirt was see thorugh but i was wearing a bikini top, still bikinis top are reserved for Arugam Bay and not main street Ampara town. it was lovely though. and more recently, after a party which i wasnt expecting to enjoy and i did i was walked home in the rain. good conversation, good company and the rain...a wonderful conclusion to a drunken night. i could have continued walking and talking soaked but that wouldnt have been fair to my escort. or to my camera and iPod.
mostly, it is a pain since it stops projects and all i want to do is curl up with a book and stay in bed but can't really do that.
people laughed at me when i bought boots. leather ones. camper. i love them and i have dry feet so who's laughing now.
they look good too.
i like fashion but that is a whole other post for a later time.
it's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring.
i dont know where that is from. anyone know? we used to say it when we were younger. we used to say a lot of weird things.
we still do.
i wish i could remember how old i was when i stopped calling toothpaste, cavities. i have memories of calling it cavaties. i dont recall feeling confusion that my signifier had to change for the signified. perhaps i wasn't that curious of a child. isn't everything technically supposed to be curious to a child and thus the normal state of curiosity just becomes one of complacency? i wasn't a child who always asked why. at least i dont think i was.
i've tangented. that is normal.
i feel gentle tonight and therefore, the rain is pretty to me in this moment.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
im in sri lanka and it is the rainy season (we've been waiting since december and thought or i thought, ok that wasnt so bad, it was all hype, but it isnt), anyhow, the weather is cold for me but this would have been the perfect temp for a balmy NYC summer night. except its the monsoon in ampara, sri lanka and its not like there are outdoor bars to go sit at and drink margaritas and watch all the beautiful people walk by or watch a movie in fort greene park in brooklyn or walk over the manhattan bridge at dusk and end up on canal street where you keep walking to nolita and have some corona and grilled corn at cafe havana on mulberry street. instead i am sitting and smoking and blogging.
im not complaining because now when i go back to NYC, i dont have to wait for the evening to do all these things since i dont have a job and can do it all day while everyone else is at work.
who am i kidding? i used to do it even when i did have a job in NYC. i would just take the afternoon off and walk to noho and marvel at the great number of people who seem to be unemployed, young, beautiful, carefree and rich (they all had cute lower east side or nolita boutique shopping bags). who are those people? they all look like the belong or have walked off the set of a lenny kravitz's music video.
i do miss these things but last time i was in NYC, it was pretty disastorous. people wanted to talk to me about sri lanka and they kept saying, they need more moeny, those poor people out there and i wanted to yell and scream and shout from the top of my table, NO. stop sending money to tsunami victims, stop stop stop! send it eleswhere in the world where they actually need it. everyone in NYC wants to be aware and on top of complicated world situations and i was no different when i lived there. it's easy to do it over a some dirty martinis and tapas at the cool new neighbourhood bar that just opened up. it's fun to do it.
will i ever be able to go back to that again?
i moved to NYC for those reasons. i wanted to be self aware and more aware of the world around me. it is a good place for that to a large degree. it is easy to get caught up in it and to not realize there is the world out there to see that one keeps talking about from the bar stool.
i love to tell people, i was raised in NJ but i grew up in NYC. it's true. it kicked me around but gently.
i have yet to figure out what this experience in SL is doing to me. need the distance.
i had a lovely evening with friends. Chris and Jessica invited a bunch of us over for a pasta dinner and in the land of rice and curry, it is a treat. i spent the first half of the evening talking shop (as Ronan called it) with Emma. We are trying to figure out the livelihood situation in ampara and i liked doing it. i used to never sit and passionately discuss my work but i was and i liked it. i love it.
perhaps that is why i deal with the mosquitoes that are currently biting the shit out of me and feel like pasta is a treat. from what i am feeling right now, it is a treat. sri lanka is not the place for a person on the atkins diet by the way. carbohydrate heaven. good for runners.
will i be sitting blogging two years from now pooh pooing myself from jan 2006?
im impatient to know what happens at the end of the journey...yeah yeah, the whole journey thing is important but still...what's at the end? it's not death. that's part of the whole journey thing.
i see it as a set of little journeys anyhow and i am impatient and what i have to do is be better about the thinking process. i like to hurry it along and that is probably not a good idea.
anyone got comments on the thinking process? do you ever follow thoughts through to their entirety? how do you know you are there?
i could never be like rousseau.
posting a photo of my two favorite french people, Johan and Vero. they keep me calm and balanced. i dont think they know that they do.
Having technical difficulties so will write new posts to get more photos from the party on there. this one i like since it the scene of the party and all the way in the back, you can see the tall blond guy, Edward, chewing away on his fingernails..or on his nail bed, not sure what. it is something he would always do unawares and he never poses well for photos so it's nice to have this candid shot of him. esp since it is blurry and he is really far away. short on time right now so will post more later.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
i cant decide if i should keep this photo on here or not. i know its rude but i still like it.
so... im going to put it back on. it reminds me of the girl i used to be in my halcyon NYC days. somehow that girl escaped long enough in small town sri lanka for this photo. thank goodness for that.
I will keep coming back to this theme but omigod! i love it. i just showed my boss my page and besides the objection to the picture, he seems interested in starting his own. i was introduced to this blogsite by my friend Bill Barkle by the way...i shoud link his blog to my site. I will shortly.
a short word on some of the websites that i have now linked to my blog...
chowk is a south asian webzine that i used to be very active on but not these days and i like the stuff on there for the most part. the interesting thing about the website is that you can interact directly with the writers and others who want to take part in the discussion and often times, the discussions are much more interesting than the writing posted. i would recommend checking out the writers: rehan ansari, shandana minhas, veeresh malik and pervez hoodbhoy.
islamica news is just awesome and i wish the islamica crew would update it more often but it is like the onion, a spoof on news. they have a wicked sense of humor and even if you arent muslim, its funny. if you are muslim (or grew up as one), it is a welcome addition to the progressive cause.
David Rees is a cartoonist and his get your war on and my new fighting technique is unstoppable are post 9 11 jewels. i like him lots and his website is weird but once you get used to it, it's good funny stuff.
The other stuff you can explore on your own. craigslist was my lifesaver when i lived in NYC and needed anything. i found roomates on there and then an apartment in paris for a week. it's for different cities in the world.
let me know if anyone has a website that they would recommend to add a link to my blog and if people have blogs that they would like me to add to my site...
i will add a photo of one of the aforementioned monkeys that i took recently from my office window just cuz now i have figured out how to do so...but only one photo at a time which is a pain but dial up beggars cant be choosers.
i was actually waiting with my camera to catch a picture of a monkey frying itself on an electrical wire but as Veronique keeps telling me, these monkeys are very smart....too smart....unfortunately, not too smart enough for their own good otherwise we could have had grilled/smoked monkey for dinner.
Monday, January 09, 2006
just an excerpt but then again, a lot of my writing reads that way.
Transit in Madras Airport.
We talked about Sri Lanka, we talked about Pakistan. He self identified as an Urdu speaker when I asked if he spoke Hindi. He brought me biryani of sorts from outside the airport and set me up with a little chair and stool behind the counter, where I was eye level with the display of chooris on one side and pashmina shawls on the other, so that I could eat. He spoke about the first of ramazan and did so while alternately watching women gyrating on the screen and a balatkar scene which culminated in a shot to the stomach at the khush khabri, main tumharay bachay ki maa banay wali houn. Extortion and it reminds me of Sri Lanka and hopeless situations. Everyone is still brown and we all still meld into one another as white person after white person walks in and ask me while I eat my biryani in loud enunciated voices how much things cost. Yeah, it does remind me of Sri Lanka.
I could hold out my hands and money would come pouring in.
You have something the rest of us don’t, the other ex-pats say to me. The currency of my skin. On the streets of Brooklyn I was asked if I could do the hoola hoola dance and on the streets of Sri Lanka, I am asked the same thing. Doesn’t matter, does it, in the end?
I listen to the Cure, Cold Play and the sound track of Bunty Aur Bubli over and over. I think of Ash singing about her aangraee and wonder about a man who cared so much over a gesture in my life. Not the smaller ones, that would be too much. Someone for whom a big gesture would be something to expend energy on. Fast friends are pointless but that is the transcendental life that I am leading, where your EOM (end of mission) is anywhere from 6 weeks to a year and people come and go and they are the only ones who really understand what is going on and who you are. So you make the fast friends and faster lovers and when you go home from your insular world for two weeks, everything has changed when you come back.
Part of you is relieved since the world did not end even though you thought it would.
Part of you wished it would so that you could go home, play the hero without all the pain.
I said to Basher Bhai, bohot sawab ka kaam hai, musafir ko khana, pani aur chai, who bhi ramazan main…I haven’t kept a roza in god knows how many years and yet I turned all Muslim-filmy in their shop. It worked. Not just worked, it felt natural. That should scare me.
i have a cold and that is not conducive to work. neither is just coming back from holiday. i say that like a british person. the american in me should say vacation. i am being slowly conditioned by the brits that i work with. it goes both ways but i seem to be more spongy than they are. it's a little easier to soak in british-isms rather than american-isms, i think. i'd still rather be the dick van dyke character in Mary Poppins than some weirdo red neck in say, kentucky.
I am supposed to fill in this space with interesting little anecdotes like my friends do from all over the world about the cute koala bear they went hiking with or the sherpa they met in a nepali cafe in uganda, but i really can't be fucked to do so at the moment. where do people get energy to do stuff like that? i mean, really. plus, the most interesting thing besides my work (which is only interesting if you really like coordinating people and are trying to hide that you are a control freak by pretending to delegate responsibility and the everyday struggle of this) would be the monkeys of all sizes that destroy the pipes in my house or the elephants by the temple that once in a while, just to keep one hoping, come near their watering hole.
I will probably, some day come back and delete all these posts and pretend like it never happened. i do denial well. i inherited that. but we dont talk about it.
i have dial up so i just figured out that trying to post pictures for me is near impossible. i'll keep trying though and talk about ficticious photos that none of you will ever get to see.
like this one of me that should show up on the top right hand corner, naked.
Sunday, January 08, 2006
I know it's not PC to call it Bombay but rather Mumbai but it will always be Bombay to me. I will not succumb to the hindu rights ridiculous renaming of India to make their point. On one hand i understand the need to reclaim in a post colonial context but on the other side, their approach is all wrong.
Anyhow, this was my first trip to Bombay, the city my mother was born in, and one photo from the trip...more to come. I like this one of my friend Baber.
A big shout out to Kiran, Ankur, Kalpana & Amrita (i just noticed that the twins have the same initials as their parents) Saniya, Baber, Mridu and Rehan for showing me a great time.
A little about me....
Aid Worker in Sri Lanka working on post tsunami reconstruction and recovery and the main idea for this blog site is so that my friends and family dont hate me anymore since i dont have time to stay in touch and everyone can just come to the site and check up on me. Much easier this way.
I also just got a camera from the Dubai airport which i think was the final push i needed to start my blog.
ok, so stay tuned for posts and photos.
im off to play football.