I mean, cliques are crazy. Lets say you fall out with one person, that inevitably means a good half of your clique isn’t going to talk to you and the other the other person. Worst still, cliques that involve a few romantic relationships as well. Those are even more complicated and the minute a pair breaks up, there is so much of mudslinging or side-taking. No offence to all those of you have a huge circle and love them. I respect the fact that you guys are able to manage some dainty and fragile relationships and juggle them. I have always never been able to have such luck and for some reason I have come to wean my life off all these crazy big circles.

I figure having individual friends works a lot better for me. Somehow, its always easier to let a friendship/bond/relationship stand on its own feet when its just about you and that particular person. That way, both of you and not external parties control how the relationship moves, what is private and what is to be shared. Intimate moments are truly intimate and non-intimate moments remain within your private sphere. When relationships sour (don’t mean to be a pessimist but they always do), at least both parties can pack their bags and walk off.

Of course, you’re even luckier if you have a big clique and yet manage to have personal relationships with each individual member in that group. That way its a little safer since your friendships can exist on two separate realms.

All that aside, I think any friendship can last if both parties remain non-judgemental. In the last 2 years I have drained my life off all toxic friends. From big cliques, to people who just befriend me to party or to get the scoop on my life so that they can diss me later – everyone has been shut out completely. I don’t bother attending big functions, I don’t bother with group outings and most of all I rather just talk to one person or meet one person at a time. The exception for this would be my dance class friends – but that’s also because we share a bond that surpasses our friendships – our passion for dance. This way, no matter how fed up we are with each other ,we still stick it out because we need to work together. Glad at least this one circle (which is by the way a mini-circle of 5-6 people) still exists. (please don’t cast your evil eyes all you haters).

Anyhow, back to my initial point – good, sturdy friendships work on the premise of non-judgements. You know you have a true friend if you can come to him/her anytime and say what you feel at that exact point in time and not be judged for it 2 years later. You also know a true friend will tell you, they may hate your actions but they still love you. Friends are allowed to be completely biased – that’s why they are your friends.

So for those of you who wonder why I have become a hermit and have stayed away from general public and a lot of cliques I used to be chummy with – its no fault of the cliques or the people – its just that I don’t roll that way. I like my life the way it is – private.

Cheers folks!

Two years ago I caught my first “Puthiya Uthiram” (New Blood) by Ravindran Drama Group. Puthiya Uthiram is a yearly production that is aimed at getting new directors and brand new artistes involved in theatre and providing them a platform to further their dreams of putting their thoughts to papers and then to stage.

I was rather impressed the first time I caught Saleem Hadi’s maiden production “Saakadai” (Filth) and Subramaniam Ganesh’s “Sathai” (Flesh) and blogged about my on the surface thoughts here. After re-reading the entry, I realised I said very little in the hopes that I would once again get to see “Saakadai” targetted at a slightly larger audience. However, 2 years down and it has never quite resurfaced.

Last year, I went to watch Puthiya Uthiram with the same fervour hoping I would get to see more geniuses like Saleem Hadi get a chance to display their work. However, “Nangu Suvargalukul” (Within 4 Walls) and “Kurugiya Vattam” (Narrow Circle), did not impress me or in any manner leave much of a good or a bad impression. Theatre that is just average is honestly quite disappointing – theatre can be bad, theatre can be great – but forgettable theatre is simply sad as theatre is so dynamic and has the propensity to be so impactful that when it slides past you, its quite a waste. Nevertheless, nothing quite captured me enough to write up till today.

Today, I caught Puthiya Uthiram for the 3rd year running. The bills featured were “Outsiders” by Karthik Prahad and “Hanuman:The Awakening” by James Kumar.

It is always exciting to see complete new faces at any production because it shows the dynamism of an organisation and their ability to keep progressing forward. In that sense, kudos to RDG because I saw a bevy of new faces – proving that even established organisations need not bank on their usual stable of stars to provide us A grade productions.

The Outsiders

The Outsiders was a semi-abstract play that revolved around 5 main characters and the setting of a bar. With many allegories made to the concepts of Plato’s Cave , the play revolved around identities and the relationships between the 5 people. The question that had been posed through most of their promotional work was “Who are the outsiders?” To be frank, I still have no freakin’ clue. I found the play very loaded and noisy. Noisy here does not refer to loud, audible sounds but instead the fact that the play was peppered with far too many little jabs and far-ranging issues and little connections. Dialogues I felt were too long and did not fit in-sync with the characters’ personalities. This was rather disappointing as RDG has always been known to be able to develop their characters to a T.The fact that I have very little to say about the characters individually, except that their behaviour, language and their personalities were very inconsistent is testament to how flat the characters turned out to be.

This is not to say that the play was all bad. There were many little nice issues that were brought up that took tiny jabs at our policies, our identities. Yet, till the end it remains unclear what exactly the play’s vision was. I am all up for abstraction and I do enjoy the surrealism in contemporary plays. However, I dislike plays that promise to say a lot about everything and end up saying nothing at all. This felt like one of those moments. Dialogues were long and sounded like prose extracted from various books – it would have looked fantastic as a script but it was a little silly to maintain that for an actual play. It didn’t help that apart from the two leads, most of the other cast members did not have fantastic diction.

I believe that sincerity and substance are key to a great play. Having a voice is one thing – we are all empowered at some point in time to speak up. But what is it we want to say is another? Outsiders could have been saved the tragedy if someone had stepped in to shave a lot of the other distractions out of the play. With a racy name like The Outsiders and with promises to delve into topics of identity, Plato’s Cave and apathy, I expected the play to be curt, direct and smart. There were glimmers of some talent here and there, but generally I felt the play go flat very often.

Furthermore, I felt that there were many moments of gray area when no one could understand what exactly was being said. It is generally so that in every play, there are a few moments of confusion or a few symbolisms that the general crowd can miss out on. Yet, here I felt that there was so very little I could understand.

However, I do have to credit the director and his cast for having been bold enough to come forth and stand tall in front of an audience to present their work. The debut performance is always the hardest and most exciting and I can only imagine the butterflies everyone must have had in their tummies.

I may have sounded particularly harsh with my judgements, but I strongly believe that it is solid feedback that makes someone better at their skill. I am honest and am not out to hurt anyone’s opinions and au contraire, anyone who decides to step into the line of performance must be ready to accept criticism of sorts with a thick hide. Nevertheless, I congratulate Karthik and his team for having entertained us and presented to us their work.

Hanuman: The Awakening

I honestly had no clue who this director was, nor did any of the faces except the lead protagonist look familiar. I did not know what to expect and quite honestly I was expecting some sort of a substandard play after the 1st half.

However, Hanuman totally blew me away. Hanuman reflected a simple story of a young boy and the strength of the human spirit. A young boy, much awe-inspired by the legacy his father has left him – the protagonist chooses boxing – his father’s passion and also the cause of his father’s death. During his match, he falls flat after being knocked out by his opponent. He wakes up and he is suddenly surrounded by Hanuman (the Hindu monkey-god whom his father told him to always believe in) and Dasa (Hanuman’s arch nemesis). The story continues in a part fantasy, part reality way and once again I am not going to go any further into what happens in the end. I believe endings are best enjoyed watching a performance so for those of you wanting to know, remember to go catch the plays when they happen!

But to put it simply, I was very impressed. A first time director who shone through both film and theatre. A simple, heartwarming clip that started the bill and ended the bill managed to seamlessly connect, not once cutting the tension. I am never a fan of theatre that requires external projections as I believe theatre can speak for itself and should maintain its liveness. Yet, in this one instance, the film managed to be so effective and so real not once projecting away from the realness of the situation.

Secondly, the sound was amazing. The music used was very appropriate and suited the entire theme.

Now the cast. They were mind blowing. Prasad the lead was very convincing. His young outlook made the film projection even more realistic. For some reason, I expected this boy to come onto stage and do a major overacting since he has had a lot of TV experience. Yet, he managed to be realistic and maintain his composure very well. His acting was very well-measured. There were a series of action scenes and some of them required a slow-motion effect. His experience as a dancer came in handy as his body isolation was impeccable.

Ruvinathan who played Hanuman was amazing too. He reminded me very much of those period dramas on Channel 8 where Sun-Wu-Kong would dart and fly everywhere. Difference is, this was LIVE and he did his somersaults, turns and movements so amazingly without once faltering on his expressions and his dialogues. Dinesh Nair who played Dasa was also very impactful. Special mention to Kalyan Kumar who played a Naradar-esque character. It takes guts to rip your dhoti off three times onstage. The two supporting monkeys Sreeram and Suresh managed to maintain great comedic sense and were the perfect supporting cast.

The cast used their space so effectively, they were all very fit and agile, darting across without even the slightest hesitation on their faces. They were well-rehearsed and extremely charismatic onstage.

The story here was a simple one – but it had a proper vision, a real goal and a plot that was well thought of with little distractions. Hence it worked. Kudos to James Kumar and his cast for a job well done.

On top of everything, due credit has to be given to the senior members of Ravindran Drama Group for their constant support. Productions like Puthiya Uthiram can go into oblivion within one showing. It isn’t easy talent spotting new directors and new artistes. In fact, banking on the old sturdy stable of artistes may be a sure-win. Yet they go all out to ensure a breath of fresh air is infused yearly through initiatives such as Puthiya Uthiram. It is always a pleasure to see Art thrive and I hope RDG continues maintaining such initiatives.

One could only hope that more geniuses such as Saleem Hadi and James Kumar come forward to share their talent. (Considerable to note that both guys managed to do excellent jobs on their first tries – imagine what happens when they hone their skills).

I am truly very proud of every one of the people who stood up onstage today and took their bow together – and I hope that each of them are blessed with great successes in their pursuits of their Art.

PS: A request to the kind people in RDG. Please try to make the fonts in your brochures a tad bigger. Have been squinting in various different angles trying to read all the messages and all I have gotten is a blinding headache.

Why suddenly – I hear all of you groan. Just when everyone thought I’m done with the pen (ermm keyboard) and here I am to traumatise everyone with my writing again. Its simple, I’ve come to realise that my blog was an essential part of my life and penning my thoughts and having the freedom to speak up seemed to make me a better person – someone I liked a lot more.

Much has changed in the last couple of months since I last truly blogged (don’t count the one-off entries). I’m done with NUS and I am actively jobhunting. I’m done with my Arangetram and actively dancing – teaching dance at a couple of schools as well. I have had my fair share of ups and downs but I’m still alive and still fighting as hard as hell.

Point is, I am BACK. (Attempts a Nanny voice). Anyhow what is in store for you in the next couple of months? Don’t worry I won’t pain you with the intricate details of my life as I used to. Gosh I wonder how all of you dealt with my whiney nonsense and philosophical blah blahs all these years! Of course you’d still see the random entries of me and all that I have to say – can’t shut an Indian woman up! But I’m expecting more photologs, food reviews, place reviews and book reviews. This is of course if my life goes as I expect it to.

And I guess that’s why those of you who still stick around do stick around – When will this girl ever learn?

Not anytime soon! Cheers everyone! I’m back!

This year, I am not going to grieve. I am not going to sit and cry about your loss. Not that I don’t miss you or that I don’t yearn for your presence in my life. But this year, I am going to embrace you. This year, its all about you. I want to know how you feel and how we have fulfilled your dreams and expectations. I know you are watching and I know that every step of the way, you are and will always be there. But what I want to know is, if you are happy? Have we kept our promise to live life to the fullest and do what our heart desires? Have we become undesirable or disappointing in your eyes?

I miss you in every sense of the word. From that unique smell you have when you come out of the shower – the heat of the water mixed with the smell of smoke. I miss your rough palms on which time and time again you managed to get glue from the glue gun stuck onto. I miss your loud voice through the receiver everytime you called, leaving us complaining about whether you swallowed a microphone. I miss the way you dance with your hands in your pocket. I miss the rare times your phone number would flash on my handphone calling me to ask me if I wanted food.
I cannot imagine that its been 5 years and we are all still reeling – coping in our own ways. I know we are all hurting but none of us are ready to accept that you’re gone. You will never be, if you ask me. You have left so many little marks everywhere making it impossible for us to ever forget you. I think you have become my God. I no longer pray – I just talk to you. I imagine you sitting there, laughing heartily the way you always do, with a cigarette in one hand and one leg atop the other. I thought I had gotten a little better, being able to finally open up and share. But I realised, I’m still the same – I still miss you and I still need you terribly.

Its as if you chose to go because you just didn’t want to see. You didn’t want to see us get married, you didn’t want to see my arangetram, you didn’t want to see me graduate, you didn’t want to see any of these things. But how could you have not wanted to see? You sowed the seeds that have reaped into this beautiful garden. I really don’t know and I don’t expect you to answer any of my questions.

I’m not angry at you – I’m angry at myself. I’m angry that I never took those moments we had seriously enough till they were gone forever. I’m angry that I still take people for granted after all that has happened. I’m angry that I may never know what your dream for me was.

I miss you so much. I miss the fact that the minute you sit for dinner, that entire sofa is yours. I miss the way you’d fight for the remote. I miss being your baby.

Love you so much and no one, I repeat, no one will ever be able to fix that void you’ve left.

But life has been weird. Not a bad kind of weird, but things have just been happening and its become like some sort of broiler - things stacking up and heating up one after another.

I’ve just finished a series of must-dos for this year – ICS’ Camp Kathiroli for which I thankfully survived, raised some cash and changed some lives hopefully. My sister’s wedding which was godawesome and just a beautiful moment. But the big things are still here – I have got to ACE this Special Semester, I have got to contribute a little more for Sangae since I’ve already agreed to be a part of this and most of all, I have an arangetram in about less than 3 months. I’m pretty much starting to freak out. Am I going to pull this off? I sure as hell hope so.

Then there are people you deem to be the closest to you who start acting up. I don’t know why but they have to choose the oddest of times to pull these stunts. Its altogether awkward for me to hang out with an entire bunch of people just because I don’t want to make it awkward for you. Its amazing how you’re the last person I’d have imagined to drop a friend for a chic but apparently that happens to. Then someone whom I hold so close to my heart has to go into the weirdest, most oddest tantrum throwing mode when you least expect it.

At least I know you’re still here. But you come with your own set of problems and issues – and I don’t want to bog you down with any of mine. Yours are so hard to handle and mine are nothing in comparison. I worry though, as much as I am certain I don’t have issues with your baggage -it worries me that inadvertently something might just kill it for us. I don’t have the stamina or threshold to deal with yet another of these heartbreaks.  You’ve been so special to this date, and I hope you always will be.

I hope people realise I am not just sitting on my ass and wasting my time. When I hear complaints of how I’m always hanging on the phone or how I’ve not achieved anything – it frustrates and angers me. I’m trying to make things work for myself and this is my do-or-die-year. I hope to graduate in a year and a half, complete my dance debut, complete a great ICS presidency term, contribute to the colourful undergrad scene, participate in at least 2-3 major dance productions and a gazillion other small ones, teach tuition to two kids completing major examinations, be a good daughter to my mother since its just me and her at home now and most of all make something out of myself. So the next person who even suggests that I’m idle – I wouldn’t care who it is – but I’m pretty sure I’d burst.

So much for claiming I didn’t want to rant – but a girl’s allowed one or two such posts right?

1.I lost my handphone.

I lost my phone about 3 months ago. As it was a prepaid card, it seems I cannot replace that number. As such, I am no longer contactable at 94451556. If you need me, please leave a comment with your number. I will not publish the comment and instead send you my current contact. MSN and Facebook are good options too.

2.I am dancing a lot.

I have been spending close to 4-5 hours a day dancing. I’m preparing for my Arangetram which is on September 13th. As such, its an extremely busy period for me. Please try to understand if I am unable to attend gatherings or other events. My dance teacher is 72 and she’s putting in the effort daily to perfect my moves, the least I can do amidst bruised kneees and swollen toes is to put in the same or even more effort.

3.I am renewing my life.

I am tired of that person I was. I am out of the two messy entanglements I found myself caught in. I am finally feeling a little renewed and it helps to remove myself from that social circle. Somehow or rather when you keep hanging out with people who are in some way attached to your past, you keep spiralling downwards back into it. I am finally up and out of that rut and I feel like I have some control over it. I’m getting some good habits and losing many other bad habits, as such I feel good being this way.

4.I am learning that I can choose to do just the things that are good for me and make me happy.

I’ve spent enough years grinning and going through events I hated or being around people I dislike. I am no longer going to go to places or be with people who don’t actually want me there but invite me anyway. I don’t wish to waste anyone’s time and my time is too precious to be wasted. As such I am going to do and be at the places that make me happy.

5.I am in dire need of some ME-TIME.

I’ve spent the last few years being there for my friends, celebrating birthdays, partying after exams, chatting for hours and most of all sacrificing my own time. Right now, I am getting in touch with myself and I am learning to become that person I always wanted to be. I’ve grown unfortunately into someone I do not completely like. I am finally changing this and gaining back some of my principles. This means, I need more time with myself to learn and love myself again.

6.I am busy.

On top of teaching dance at Yuhua, and dance classes, I am also the President of ICS and an undergraduate going onto my 4th year in NUS. I am also hoping to clinch another school to teach dance at and possibly a corporate client too. On top of this, my 2nd sister is getting married soon. Also, I have performances almost thrice a months. This means I am really very busy.

Yet, I feel guilty for going missing on so many people. I assure all of you that I am alive and kicking. I just need to figure myself out and love myself before I come back and figure everyone else out. I hope I am surrounded by enough loving people who would quit giving me attitude when I finally do call or meet up because thats just a reminder for me to stay MIA.

Loving all of you, and myself.

Aarthi

Just remember, you’re so much more than that.  God made some of us leaders, and some of us followers. God made you a genius. Your talent isn’t something you learnt or gained over practice, its a gift. It’s in your blood, it’s your legacy. In fact, you are your legacy. I am not even the least bit qualified to sing of your praises. That’s how immense this gift you have is.

There has been a time and a setting set for you to gain what you truly deserve. Whatever you are going through right now, its just a necessary process to keep you humble, to keep you anchored and to make the labour of your fruit even sweeter.

That little dream that sits so inconspicuously in your glove compartment isn’t just your best work, its your soul.

The next time you feel empty inside, look left, I’ll be there.

Love,
Me.

Of course, when I compare myself to my 60 year old mates like Mesh and the old folks like Ruben (who deserves a long service award ), I still feel chirpy. Nevertheless, this was not supposed to turn into a complain post about me hitting my peak. Instead, I have been surfing through Facebook and I have come across many of these notes things – the ones where you write 25 random things about yourself or stuff that starts with the same alphabet as your name. There was one in particular that grabbed my attention and that was the one about memories. It asks the readers who have been tagged to share a memory of the post-er. Thereafter I also saw millions of pictures of some of my juniors taken during their days in St Margarets’ Secondary as well as some from Nanyang Junior College. Boy did nostalgia strike.

Being a Cancerian, I’ve always felt pretty sentimental and I think I can be a total karanguni (waste collector) when it comes to keeping objects of sentimental value. I still have my PSLE confirmation letter for my choice of schools, my Kindergarten progress reports, ticket stubs from my first movie with my first love, birthday cards, letters, posters and loads of autograph books (it was a very girls’ school thing to do).  I think its amazing the kinds of things that can remain etched in our memories sometimes and I truly relish whenever one of those memories at the back of my mind strikes me. They make you laugh, they make you cry and sometimes remind you of a certain part of yourself you may have forgotten. These memories have made us who we are today and although we might feel urged to forget them to spare ourselves the embarassment, I think they are our essence and our spirits.

I figured I’d share a few of my sweetest memories, some funny, some painful some simply golden. I haven’t thought of a structure for this blogpost and I hope to post it onto Facebook later for more people to share these memories. Pardon me if this entry seems disorganised because its a true expression of my mind and I’m typing just as it flows. Do feel free to leave a memory of your own, it doesn’t have to include me, just something you remember with great fondness and I hope it makes you smile for the rest of the day.

The Polka Dotted Days

I remember my Secondary School days the most vividly of my entire education experience. As much as I grew up a lot during my JC days (which I’d save for a later part), it was in being in SMSS that I truly learnt about myself, learnt to love myself, gained confidence and understood my strengths and weaknesses.

I remember the temporary building at Commonwealth, with the creaky swing and how we girls used to run for it. I remember Mabel’s major accident with the scissors. We had just spoken about attempting suicide and stuff like that and my friend and I had gone to submit some DnT homework. We come back to seeing our friend Mabel being rushed to the sickbay with blood all over the place. She had accidentally cut herself while doing some work with a huge scissors. I swear for a moment we were certain she was trying to attempt suicide.

I remember Miss Usha from the computer lab and how we girls used to traumatise her. There was once a case of a pornographic picture found in one of the computers and everyone was banned from surfing and downloading for awhile. I remember IRC-ing after school and all those crazy things we used to do. We had a #smss channel. I remember taking trains from Commonwealth to Bishan but I always took the line that went way past Jurong, Woodlands then to Bishan just so that I could hang out with the girls longer. I remember being punished for wearing ankle socks or in my case my SMSS socks were so loose they’d fall right into my shoes by being told to remove my shoes and walk the day shoeless by Mrs Lee (God bless her soul). I remember that little atap hut that was our Tamil classroom and how we could never gauge accurately when Mrs Subra would appear. (when she did, the class would be in chaos, all of us would get punished but I often got only half the punishment).

I remember the move back to the original school after renovation and how we had a walk-a-thon. Mrs Lee rode on a Harley Davidson and there was even a scale down one of the school buildings. I recall how I was late pretty much every other day ( I just bumped into one of the junior prefects who used to book me all the time and she’s now a tutorial mate). I remember that every single day, all I ate was 1 prata, 2 hashbrowns (soaked in curry, it was crazy fantastic). I also remember how we girls used to do crazy things around that school. SYF practices where I got to bully the juniors to a large extent till preparing for the O levels with classes through the holidays. I miss every little moment.

I remember exploring my love for Literature and the languages, spending hours in the beautiful library we had going through pages of history books that were so colourful. I remember awaiting my Literature results the most and loving English compositions that allowed me to write for one-word titles or were open ended. My proudest moments were often topping Mrs Seet and Mrs Raj’s Literature lessons. I remember Mr Hoo telling my mother that perhaps I had a different route and was not cut out for the academics. Wherever he is now, I hope he sees what I’ve chosen to do. I recall topping my class for the mid-years in Sec 4 and that was when I felt that push I needed to excel.

The teachers told us time and time again to cherish our days in Secondary school where we were still spoonfed knowledge and where we were young and could get away with our mistakes. But just like every other girl my age, it was one ear in the other ear out. I miss being able to be a girl and be free, to sit any way I like, to walk any way I like and to look silly anytime of the day. I miss the itty heartbreaks, the itty joys and all the other crazy things.

The First Love

My first love was not my first boyfriend, but I would go so far as to say he was my first REAL boyfriend; this meant a relationship that lasted more than just a few months and where we went out and did things together instead of just chat online. His name was Alvin Thomas and he was and in some ways still causes the tingling of many pubescent hearts. I remember meeting him at a debate through a friend whom I cherish till today. I remember how he made my heart do a little flip while I was in the midst of my debate speech. I won best speaker that round and I won his email address through my friend. We dated for a fairly long time and we’ve had many makeups and breakups over the years. But I gained this sense of self confidence being around him, knowing a guy as goodlooking could like a ugly duckling like me (bad hair,braces, pimply me). We had the craziest, kiddish moments, saving up money to eat at Macs or just taking the train randomly. I remember our first movie together, our first kiss and a lot of other little itty bitty details that taught me so much more about myself. I loved meeting him after SYF dance practice just so that all the girls could see my famous and handsome boyfriend. Although things never worked out between the two of us, we are still great friends and we’ve met up a couple of times since (not at MACs, we actually promoted ourselves till Jacks’ Place).

Dancin’ Queen

These are by far the most long lasting memories since I’ve been doing this since I was so young. I love dancing and I don’t think there’s anything in this world that can give me the joy and the outlet that dancing does. I remember watching my sisters dance at Cairnhill CC under Mohana Akka, preparing for birthdays and all those other little fun things about class. I was certain I must learn how to dance just like my sisters and that I did. I remember Kallang CC and Naga Akka and Vijaya Akka. We had by far the funnest class with Vish, Arya, Rekkha and the entire gang. I remember chicken rice after dance class and being made to run around the CC as punishment for coming late for class. I remember suffering with theory classes just before exams. (Dhyana Slokam would look like Diana Slokam).  I remember Commonwealth games with Rekkha, Harsheeni, Padmini, Kogila and Priyadharshini. It was our first ever overseas dance experience and we were treated like movie stars wherever we went. I also remember how I was traumatised by those damn peacock feathers that I couldn’t remove from my waist in time for the next part of the performance and how I pretty much danced with them and got “featured” on the big screen as well.

Now I’m older and dance means so much more to me. At some point it was a bit of a love-hate relationship, dance often bringing out the most intense, painful memories, tapping on all the things I try to compress and avoid sharing. Now, I’ve learnt to use it as an outlet, a safe way of letting off steam and frustration. I fondly recall the crazy things we do after performances, our occasional escapes to having a drink, neo-Bharatham experiments, making fun of little things. Most of all, I know I treasure every single thing Maami, my guru has taught me over the years. I know I can never be as loving, as inspirational and as passionate as her, but I will strive to possess at least a little bit of each of that. Her greatest lessons aren’t in the adavus she teaches or the items I’ve learnt, but in the little bits between classes where we speak. With Maami, you know she’s always listening, she’s always proud of you and she’ll always love and understand where you’re coming from. I’m also lucky to have such fantastic girlfriends at my dance class. You hear of politics,rivalry and competition between likeminded girls in the performing arts sector but at my school, we are more of a sisterhood than anything. It helps that we are all incredibly girly, crazy and love the same things.

College Days

Those 2 years were probably my toughest and depressing years. Battling with heartbreak, isolation from a group of people who used to be my closest friends and then my Dad’s death all around the same time. It made it hard for me to cope but it also taught me so much more about my mettle. I was lucky to have some friends, Sadhana, Sonia, Sunil, Hari, Joshua, Jesreen, Jasmine and Durga in particular. After bumping into Durga yesterday I just remembered our kindred souls, our conversations about nothing that were so profound, so emotionally intense and so beautiful. She’s one of the most beautiful people I know. I remember the ICS chalet at Aloha Loyang and how we went crazy with all the hide and seek nonsense. My hiding place was ace thanks to the guys who carried me up into the top of a cupboard. No one found me, I suspect they weren’t intending to.

I remember Mr.Bong asking me to draw the demand curve (this was somewhere in Year 2) and I drew a supply curve. I don’t think there’s a greater sin when it comes to Econs. I remember Miss Victors’  literature class and how we used to fight for the sofa. I remember Mrs. Teo’s class and how we used to hide burgers under the table and munch on them during lesson time. I remember Sunil and myself running across the field being late for a lesson once having gone out of school to eat, and how Mr Bong asked us why we were late and our uniforms were all messy. I remember Puyal and all the fun that tagged along.

I remember my two pseudo-Dads, Mr Thiru and Mr. Teo, the two men I cannot thank enough for being there for me when I needed them the most. Mr. Teo couldn’t speak much English. I was lucky that I was fairly proficient in Mandarin (you have to be when you’re in a Chinese-y school), yet he always made the effort to care for me and the other minorities. We were never marginalised or made to feel like we didn’t belong. I remember going to eat Air Batu (that coloured ice) outside school and how we used to skip P.E.

I remember the care and love my friends provided me with in what was the most pressing and painful moment of my life. I recall with fondness those little moments we’ve shared and the ways in which they love and care for me in their special ways till today. I remember my first clubbing experience in Cheeky Monkeys and of course the many moments of drinking at coffeeshops with Sunil and Hari.

Early Uni Days

Of course I’m not able to speak of my University experience in totality since I have about a year and a quarter to go but I must say, it’s seeming like a fantastic journey. I still remember my first ever performance with NUS – it was at roadshow a gazillion years ago (okay not really gazillion). I barely knew anyone and now I feel like I’ve danced and performed so many times with these people. I’ve met some fantastic friends through and in NUS and I’m so lucky to be a part of this culture.

I’m also extremely lucky to be studying what I am studying and to have found my niche. I was just chatting with the teacher in charge at the school I teach dance a few days ago about Indians who seem to drop courses or lose their passion for whatever they initially want to study. I’m glad that my mother never forced me to do triple sciences or go into a specific faculty. I’m glad that she supported me in everything and anything I’ve wanted to do. Till today, there’s never been a time my family has not been behind me; from my decisions to Dhool, to wanting to take charge of ICS to even wanting to major in Sociology. I recall how they had an entire cheerleading squad, ready with banners and pompoms at Dhool and how till today my mother still supports every one of my events. I am truly lucky for that.

University days seem to fly by the fastest since there’s no real system or a proper compulsory curriculum. The semesters aren’t very long and most of it is up to the individual. But I seem to have thoroughly enjoyed and am enjoying this entire experience and I love what I am studying. Perhaps two years down the road, I’d reminisce further about my university days.

There’s so much more I have failed to write here, from memories of my family, to my memories of my childhood days, to my memories from failed relationships and heartbreaks, to even my experiences with this blog. But that’s the point of life right? I mean we’re never going to be able to cap the extent of our memories or be able to recall and document every single moment, but those moments would come just when we need a little reminder or a little smile or maybe even a little humbling.

So, if you have a memory, any memory at all, of your own, of us, of someone mutual, of anything and everything or even nothing, do leave it as a comment here. I bet it’ll be fun!

I add this very huge and obvious disclaimer before I begin this entry because I am very certain many people enjoy this show that I am about to take and stab into pieces (if I could, the host would be first on my list, or at least the person who writes his damn script).  Again, please if anybody from Vasantham reads this (which scarily enough I found out many do), please take this in the best way possible. Do not give us half past excuses and comments such as “you only know the difficulty once you try to produce a show” – If I need to be able to produce a show to be able to appreciate or criticise one,  you’d lose pretty much 90% of your audience. Let us be mature and accept that those of us who can appear on screen and those of us who cannot, still have the right to maturedly and reasonably criticise what we see. Likewise, its only fair for us to give credit where its due. (I for one happen to think Guru Paarvai, Taxi Engey Poguthu and the likes are doing pretty fantastic).

The point is, I am thoroughly disappointed with this specific show called “Vizhigal”. With a fantastic name such as  that, great trailers and such interesting topics, I was expecting a social commentary of sorts. Let us first establish that social commentaries do not impose any moral judgements on what it seeks to discover and just not believe there is a right and wrong. Rather, it tries to put issues in perspective and provide the audience with the alternative viewpoint as well as sometimes “shock” you with the facts you never knew existed.

I should have known to switch off my television the moment I saw the last 5 to 10 minutes of the Health show that was before the episode of Vizhigal. It was some sort of an ominous sign. Mind you this is a Health show (Udalum Ullamum) – you’d expect to gain simply medical perspectives (that’s why we call doctors and not our Grandmas) so this was quite hilarious. A lady called in to ask if she got an abortion will there be any tell tale signs from which her husband could figure out she had an abortion. I would have accepted it, if the doctor first explaind whether or not there would be any tell tale signs and then explain to the lady that it is important to share such information with her husband. Instead, the doctor never went to the aspect of explaining whether or not there would be any tell-tale signs and straight jumped into how she must tell her husband and how abortion is a BAD thing. Yes, there you have it. Judgements judgements judgements. I am not about to go into a discussion of pro-life or pro-choice but I believe that as a doctor – your priorities are first to be scientific, factual and display objectivity and respect for one’s choices.

I was digressing, so now back to Vizhigal. I will admit I have only watched 2 episodes of the show thus far and I am basing my entire observation on these 2 episodes alone; as such I must make it clear that this might be an unfair and hasty analysis. Nevertheless it pains me and I don’t think any amount of coaxing could make me change my mind.

The first episode I watched was the one about Social Escorts. This is indeed a racy topic. I thought it was exciting that Indian programmes were trying to tip the edges of controversy and were seeking to push issues that were formerly considered taboo into the public realm and shed some light on them. Instead, what I saw was a badly put together show.

Firstly the host mentions in his lead-in that these women lack “acham, maadam, naanam” – things that are essential to women. Second he makes them sound like immoral sluts who sleep around or have traded their morals for luxury. Even if they are, I don’t see how this is anyone’s judgement call. As long as one does not steal or rob from you or cheat you to make a living, they are living an honest and respectful living right? I think that as a host of a social commentary – his lead-ins can be made less extreme, less judgemental and less alpha male centric. I felt myself snorting and going “Oh my god did he just say that?” more than once. I thought perhaps it was just me until during the next episode, I got an sms from my eldest sister telling me that the script writer deserves a good smack. I’ll come back to this later. He said many other things that were very hard to digest.

My point is this, if you choose to do a show about racy topics that are very out of what is considered polite behaviour, don’t do it just for the sake of gaining viewership – do it with an open mind and a genuine desire to make a close-knit and conservative community start talking and discussing pertinent issues rather than relegating them to the private sphere and acting like these things don’t happen.

My second grouse was the fact that through the entire show, no social escort perse was interviewed. Instead, the friend of a social escort – that too, a friend who “powtoh-ed” the escort to her parents was interviewed. From the fact that this interviewee was a tell-tale – its evident what her views on social escorts are. In this case, isn’t she then a biased person? What’s the point of doing an entire show on social escorts if you do not even at one point interview a real social escort? If you couldn’t get a social escort, why did you then choose to put together an episode on something you have no first-hand information about? The other research that was done involved calling a few social escort agencies from a magazine to ask how many Indian girls there were as well as getting one of the crew to meet a social escort – (this was done just to prove that there are Indian social escorts not to ask her any questions or anything of that sort). If its too hard to find women who are escorts – why not interview men who do employ their services and ask them why they do so?

Thirdly, I am tired of people making false assumptions that social escorts are all sexual workers. For the lack of a better word, they are called escorts. Whether they provide sexual services is very much their own perogative. While the show did make mention of this, they failed to break the myth entirely. Neither did they also touch on the fact that most social escorts are escorts because they are intelligent, educated and conversationalists. Instead they chose to harp on the fact that these women are in the industry because of the amount of money it can make. If that’s such an issue, why don’t we do an episode on the millions of people joining insurance companies as financial consultants in the hopes of raking in the millions? Why criticise these women alone for doing something which is so innate and instinctual to everyone – find the best way to make the big bucks?

I was very disturbed by the fact that the re-enactments constantly made it seem like social escorts are ruining their lives, changing their lives or becoming different people, going to suffer from some unknown repercussions because they do such a job. To this, I say its time we open our eyes and accept the fact that as long as there is a demand for escorts, there will be that many people willing to be in the job.

Make no mistake, I am not in any way condoning their work neither am I condemning them. I just wish that as a social commentary, the production house, producers would look at trying to explain how they are no different from the rest of us, and how labels such as “social escorts” do not reflect anything but the person’s occupation. It would have been fantastic if they had simply looked at the phenomenon as detached observers, stated the facts and interviewed some of them with some mindblowing questions and left the audience to be the judge. (If you think this is not possible, I strongly suggest you watch Vijay Tv’s Ipaddiku Rose – its a great example of this).

The second episode I watched was that of the abusive wife. Again, a racy topic that is bound to set a lot of tongues wagging. Yet all I saw was a psychotic wife. I have to admit Kavitha did a fantastic job playing a psycho wife but honestly I know this phenomenon of abusive wives and what was portrayed was that of a mentally disturbed woman not a woman who is insecure, hurts her husband because of this inescurity or inability to trust . Nothing about that character was normal in the re-enactment but abusive wives ARE normal people. They abuse out of insecurity.

Firstly, again in his lead-in the host mentions the traditional family dynamics – where the husband is the sole breadwinner and plays a dominant role. He almost sounds like a relic in the museum and I swear if anyone gave me one of  his dialogues in reality, I would kick him in the nuts.

Secondly the portrayal of abusive women was a little extreme. Just as we should never portray abusive husbands as completely hurling things about and being evil all the time, we have to accept that abusive women are different from psychotic women. This time they did have a guy they interviewed but oddly enough I felt that what he seemed to say in his interview and the sort of wife he described seemed rather different from the psychotic wife that was re-enacted. But this again, might solely be my own opinion of the entire issues.

Lastly, yes they are abusive, now what? What has caused them to be as such? What can one do? Are laws too slanted towards protecting women that we have assumed they are completely incapable of causing hurt and harm to men? Do we need changes to be made to legislation to recognise the fact that women can be a threat to men too? Is this a small group of women and if so, could it be due to stress they feel at the realm of home? Post-natal depression? Insecurity ? What about tackling all these issues instead of riding an entire episode just on the raciness and the “tabloid-ness” of a certain topic?

I have always been up for shows that are insightful, bold and those that provoke you to think. Yet, I feel that this specific show seems to engage controversy only to garner viewership and doesn’t actually sit down to tackle these issues objectively or in-depth. If that’s the case, you’re better off producing another run-off-the-mill dance competition or cooking show.

As the year draws to an end, its only fair that each of us reflects on the year and consider what we have learnt, unlearnt and relearnt. It is impossible for a year to go by with any new lessons and honestly with every passing year I feel that I learn more than the years before. If I had to sum up 2008 into one word; it would be contradictions. Nope, I take that back, it would be complications. I wouldn’t say that 2008 was a painful year or a year I regret, but I must say it has been filled with complications and every single choice I’ve made has been difficult and in many cases left me suspended between extremes.

I have learnt that men are extremely complicated creatures. That at one point in time, they could love you to no end and the next minute they could not want to see you ever again. That at one point in time, they could tell you it was love at first sight, and the next minute you’re taking it too fast just by merely expressing interest. I have learnt never to take a man’s words at face values. Likewise, I choose not to waste my time analysing anything they say because I am certain they don’t spend even half the time we do processing their thoughts before it leaves their mouths. I have learnt not to mope over any man except my hero. I have learnt that the only time they push towards you, is when you pull back. Call me cynical, I call it experience.

I have learnt that the best friendships are the ones that involve a tad bit of distance. I have learnt that male friends are better than female friends. At least for my personality. I have learnt that complete honesty doesn’t pay in friendships and sometimes the best thing to do is to just step back and not care so much. I have learnt that there will be very few people you’d be willing to give your life up for, but those very people make it all oh so worth it (special mention to 4 people in this line: R,T,S,L).

I have learnt that money doesn’t bring you everything but it can make you happy. I have learnt that the highest level of euphoria can only be achieved doing something you truly love and for me, that’d be dancing. I have learnt that love at first sight exists only with the one you give birth to; and I saw that in my sister’s eyes the moment Baby Gaurav was born. I learnt that family ties can be complex at times but they are the only people who would see you through crap anytime anyday. I have learnt that at the end of the day I am my own best friend and that my gut instincts will never go wrong.

I have learnt that I will keep getting stronger no matter how hard I get beaten down. The harder I hit, the higher I  bounce.

Much love to my beautiful readers. Thank you for another year of fantastic support and wavering but undying readership.