Ignorance.... is NOT Bliss.

A series of unfortunate events have led me to believe that I live in a country filled with dumb, ignorant frogs in a well of fast-decreasing dimensions. I am rapidly building up enough ammunition to blast me out of here, back to my home, where I truly belong.


Take 1:
TV presenters on National Nine morning news played an Indian ad for 'Himani Fast Relief', and then snickered away for a full 2 minutes because they thought it was So Funny that the 'Indian dialect' for 'fast relief' is the same as in English.

'Indian dialect' shows their sheer lack of knowlege of the fact that the ad was in 'Hindi', one of several languages in India, where 'Indian' is not the name of a language. Clearly, they are oblivious to the reality in urban India, and make their own ill-informed judgements regarding the widespread usage of English. Not to mention the far more advanced TV, media and advertising industry. Amongst others. Such as IT, electronics, manufacturing, automobiles, consumer durables. The sheer size of the economy. I'm rambling. Next.


Take 2:
In order to obtain my open Australian license for automatic cars, I had to give a written road-rules test, as well as an actual Road test with a scrutinising member of Queensland Transport sitting beside me in the car (which I cleared on my first attempt). When I went to give the written test and submitted all my documentation at the QT counter, the lady asked me to provide my overseas license so that she could assess its validity. Without so much as a glance at the license itself, which I placed in front of her, she stared at me and said, "Miss, would you please get this translated in English as I can't understand it."
I told her to have a careful look at the Indian license. She looked, and did not reply - merely turned around and issued me a test-sheet.
I then caustically remarked, "See - there is not a single word or number printed on that license, which is not in English. I wonder why you couldn't understand it."


Take 3:
I never, EVER wear Indian clothes like salwar kameez or sari in this country, if I will be coming into contact with any Australians on the way such as at the shops, streets, petrol stations. I make sure I dress up for Indian events, get into the car, drive straight to my destination, park, make a quick entry and mingle with other similarly-dressed people, or Australians who are invited to the same event and are aware of its significance.
Why all this drama? Because apparently, the way you dress is a direct indicator of whether you have integrated into the mainstream Australian lifestyle, and is also directly proportional to your knowlege of English. You just do not get taken seriously if your appearance does not fit the stereotype. It is the same reason why in the workplace, or when speaking to Australians, I tend to adopt a more neutralised Indian accent, with common Australian vocabulary and intonations. Whereas with my family and close friends, I tend to adopt a less neutralised Indian accent.

I had to deal with a redneck bogan who saw me in a salwar kameez at the fuel bowser, and drawled, (ungrammatically, I might add) - "Can you speak in English? I might taiiikke yoww to the cowwnta aaaind help yoww". While his intentions may have been perfectly philanthropical, I disliked his automatic presumption that my skin colour and clothes are somehow related to my competence in English, and also to competence in handling an everyday transaction.
I replied back, in my most neutralised accent, "Thanks very much, but I am perfectly capable of speaking English, filling this car with petrol, checking the amount to be paid, walking up to the counter, paying the amount on the EFTPOS machine and driving out of here."

Dance, Asha, Dance!

I drove 15 kms in a car, by myself, dressed in this. Lucky I didn't have to switch lanes too often, because the elaborate head-gear prevented me from making proper shoulder checks :p

The stares... I will never forget... I could have been an inexplicable purple-spangled organism descended from outer space to the average Australian on that balmy afternoon....

I Heart Google :)

http://www.namegoogle.com/?displayName=Asha Googles!

To Pee or Not to Pee

What is WRONG with those people who came to visit me last night?! In fact, people in general. Why are they so completely incapable of holding a normal conversation with me?! Cheh, you would think they are either linguistically-challenged, or downright dimwitted - they way they produce those ugly gurgling noises and nonsensical non-words from their painted mouths.

Anyways, I am getting distracted. I need to pee - real bad. Been wanting to pee ever since I came into this darned place they send me to every morning at 9am. Apparently my fate is doomed to the confines of these four walls for a long, looooog time. Wonder what grave sin I have committed.

The lady at the big desk is blabbing away about black sheep and old McDonald. Like I care a damn.

Ok, I really need to pee so I'm just going to make a run for it when her back is turned. I am sure she won't miss me. There are 40 other similarly mind-numbed clones of myself sitting in the exact same position in this room. Besides, surely she doesn't have eyes at the back of her head, contrary to her daily grandiose claims. Well, I am going to prove it today!

The watchman at the gate is so busy savouring the day's first paan with his eyes half-closed that he barely noticed me scrambling out from the side-door. Stupid fellow. Why do they pay a man to 'watch' when all he does is sleep?

I reckon it should be fairly easy figuring out how to get back home. I've kinda noticed things on the way, as I come by twice a day for 5 days in the week. They all come in order. There's the green tree with pink flowers, the lamp post with a cow tied to it, Vikram's house, friendly samosa uncle , another green tree with orange flowers, Oomachi kovil and then it should be home. I quickly shuffled past the landmarks one by one.


I saw my house at a distance. I broke into a run. This is it. I cannot hold on any longer. There. Another few steps. A second more. I've reached home. I rushed inside pushing past my beautiful lady, straight to the toilet.

Ahh..... relief. What peace! I pulled the flush as she had taught me, just as she ran in with a horrified expression on her pretty face.

Sadly, I have to ask her to change my shorts :( I couldn't control myself on the long way here and a little pee came out before scheduled. But that doesn't matter, I'm home now and she will take care of everything. She doesn't mind.

She is full of questions. Did you come home alone? Didn't they see you leaving? Why could you not ask to use the toilet there? And then she grabbed me, hugged me till I nearly wanted to pee again, planted these big fat kisses all over me and started sobbing. What if you had been run over by a car? What if someone had kidnapped you? Oh my God! My baby! What would have happened to you? She's practically wailing now!

I gently patted her shoulder to comfort her. I just don’t get it. I love her to bits, I could nestle against her body all day long. But whats all this fuss Ma is making about me coming back home from school to pee. It's not like I'm a baby. I'm nearly four years old! And I needed to pee!

You are not a failure – Your Diet is!!

Apart from myself, I know of at-least 10 female friends who are on some kind of rigorous diet regime, in an obsessive attempt to lose unwanted kilos – imaginary or otherwise. This is combined with a mind-boggling, gasp-inducing, muscle-exhausting daily exercise schedule incorporating cardio and weights in the right proportion in order to lead what is termed as an ‘balanced, healthy, happy life’.

Except – We Are Not Happy!

We struggle with our self-esteem, we are subjected to insensitive ridicule from partners and potential mates, we nearly kill ourselves everyday to keep up with it all, we succumb to peer pressure in the ever-lasting quest to look our best, we are consumed with anxiety attacks if our bum is looking big in those pants or if that dress makes our waist look flabby.

Fyi – a slight digression here - whats with all the high-waisted dresses and tops that pass off as clothes these days? I am continually yelled at for wearing these clothes because they make me look fatter than I actually am – so I went shopping as I do every week trying to find something that I can fashionably clothe my fat body in. But this time I had a good, hard look around. Could not find a Single item of upper body clothing (other than work shirts and T-shirts) which was not high-waisted. I.e. the waistline sits just below the boobs. When will the people who make these fashion manufacturing decisions realise that the style does Not look good on any woman who does not look like a stick insect. Ditto with skinny jeans.

Back to the topic at hand - I leave aside the exercise portion here because I know how gruelling it can get, and how much every woman pushes herself to extreme limits by treadmill-thumping and iron-pumping. And it is not always about kilogram shedding, it is also about being fit and having a toned body. I’ve figured out a more fun way for myself personally, which is Dance! I dance for upto 12 hours every week doing Bharatnatyam, Bollywood, and a mixture of street, jazz and hip-hop. That takes care of my cardio, and then I try to squeeze in as many resistance-training sessions as I can at Fitness First, my favourite hang-out joint. Not.

There are those who conscientiously calorie-count and follow a diet made of specific foods that are included/excluded. There are others like myself who simply try to eat as healthy as possible at all times because our hectic social lives sometimes prevent us from having a routine eating pattern. This is still called a ‘diet’.

In nutrition, a ‘diet’ is the sum of food consumed by a person every day. Dietary habits are the habitual decisions an individual makes when choosing what foods to eat. Good dietary habits, in conjunction with a specially formulated exercise program – are the Only Two Ways to Sustainable Weight Loss. No magic here, no special mantra, no celebrity-endorsed quick-fix formula.

Then why do we still not see the results we desperately yearn to see?

It is solely because Diets today are Made to Fail. You are not a failure – your Diet is!

Welcome to the Diet World.

To belong here, you have to first sacrifice yourself to the Diet God. You are plonked on the altar of the weighing scale, wearing only your underwear, feeling absolutely miserable gazing at the woman in the mirror.

Next you have to take the Citizenship Oath wherein

1. You pledge to eat nothing that tastes good. The Diet World has identified via a process of elimination, that everything which tastes good, is bad for you. Therefore, everything you are allowed to put into your mouth, is a poor imitation of what normal world citizens put into theirs. Think carrot sticks instead of kebabs, plain wheat crackers instead of chips, diet yoghurt instead of ice-cream.

2. You pledge to down your carb and fat intake and up your protein intake. Bye-bye rice, pasta, bread, sweets, savouries, fried yummies. Hello foul-smelling protein shakes and foul-tasting muesli bars every time you feel peckish at work. This is apparently supposed to keep you fuller for longer, although I cannot vouch for it.

3. You pledge to control your portions to a miniscule amount, a fraction of what will truly make you feel full.

4. You will not listen to the unearthly growling sounds emanating from the deep recesses of that layered-tyre organ called your stomach. You will not get irritable when you see people hogging their guts out but not putting on a pound. The Diet God is unfair, so deal with it.

5. You will stoically tolerate insults from all and sundry who proclaim that you are a Fat Slob with wobbly body parts who sits around doing nothing. You will also stoically tolerate people who deliberately discriminate against you because you don't fit their standards of 'The Perfect Body'.

6. Finally you pledge to stick to your program path, also known as the Holy Diet Grail, no matter what happens. If you slip up by cooking something that you crave, or eating something that tastes like a slice of heaven, the Diet God will surely punish you. Severely.

The Diet World also has a large number of adherents to the ‘Yo-yo Sisterhood’. They are those women who succumb to the Cabbage Soup diet, the Lemon Detox Diet, the Atkins Diet, the Pop-a-Pill diet, the General Motors Diet and the Acai Tea Diet. They will lose weight, and over a period of time will put it back on again. All that tiresome drama for nothing. My advice - Do Not become a member of this sisterhood.

Business conducted as a means of livelihood in the Diet World is a multi-billion dollar industry. Citizens and non-citizens are bombarded with the following everyday:

1. The Media - Every magazine you pick up and every website you browse has a new diet guaranteed to make you drop 5kg every week for 12 weeks. Target audience = Suckers! Diets are made to fail so you will continue reading and surfing with the hope that the next advertised gimmick will work for you. Watch out for ‘Before – After’ photos. They are photo-shopped and placed strategically in order to brain-wash you.

2. The Pill Spill – the diet pills touted to be enriched with X enzyme and Y stimulant and Z anti-oxidant, have some easy-to-miss fineprint instructions: Follow a low fat, low carb diet and moderate exercise in order for this wonder-drug to work. Why bother with them at all, if they are only placebos?

3. The Demi-Gods - There are tons of eager-to-help, well-meaning Demi-Gods skulking around trying to entrap suckers into pre-packaged meal programs. Like Weight-Watchers, Jenny Craig, Tony Fergusson. Just keep a close track on your bank account. Funds will miraculously disappear overnight. Guaranteed Loss!

It is just a matter of time before the inanity of it all would take its toll on You, the Diet World Citizen. Weigh On.