What I love about living in Cambridge is the cheerfulness in everything. People smile at you, most of them greet you, men graciously step aside if you are waiting to cross on your bike, ladies always end their sentences with 'dear', and men with 'love', and there's the awesome weather thats such a mood perker! The last few days have been all sunny and bright and its a great pleasure to wear something cute/sexy/nice, aka not too many layers of wool/sweater/coats, outfits. What I don't like, (you saw that coming didn't you) however, is the attitude of desis here. By desis I don't mean just Indians, it includes Pakistanis, Sri Lankans and Bangladeshis - simply because you cannot differenciate one from another unless you see their passport or ask where they are from. So, the thing that annoys me about them is their smugness. Being sumg in a rude way. When you come across a desi, he/she never smiles at you. Instead, you get a look that says 'Oh you must be from a small town in India... what do you know', usually accompanied by a head to toe eyeing of you. Isn't that nasty?! I mean come on people, you are not the first one to land here, and certainly I'm not the last. Its no big deal that you came to UK on a work permit/student visa/married a British/what have you, cuz again, you are not the only one. And being here for more than 1/2/n number of years doesn't make you a Britisher; hell it wouldn't make you one even if you got your PR. You are still a desi at heart. Admit it. Its not nice to pretend to be someone you're not. Maybe you do know the good places around, where to shop, etc but that kinda homework can be done by even a tourist visiting for sometime. Doesn't mean you are any notch higher than me. I have lived all over India (almost) and I certainly have not had any diffculties in getting groceries, good bargains or making friends here in UK. And I'm not saying this based just on the looks they give me, some desis actually behave like this. Ah get over it and grow up. You're fooling no one.

When I came here, I had a million things I wanted to try. One of them was a brand of shampoo other than Sunsilk. Whilst in India, Head and Shoulders, Pantene (the name is revolting), Garnier - all made my hair really rough and left them with no shine even with conditioners. So I'd always been a fan of the black Sunsilk, super mild shampoo which even my dermatologist recommended. So here in UK, I wanted to try some new brands (not the above mentioned ones). In pursuit of that I recently bought the V02 2 in 1 shampoo+conditioner. And man, was that a bad idea. My hair looks so so dull. No shine, so it seems rough and pointy at the ends too. When you touch it, its not. But I don't like looking at my hair in the mirror. And 2-in-1 shampoo+conditioner is a no-no, because the conditioner doesn't seem to work at all. My hair's all tangled and no shine either. I'm buying Sunsilk again or a new brand pronto.

Note to self: Buy the smallest bottle if its the latter - I'd like to test first.

I hear so many of my colleagues speaking in Spanish, Italian, French etc., that it has re-aroused my interest in learning more languages. But first, I'd like to brush up and master my German first. At linch one day, I told my GM that I speak German (he's one too) and he was so happy to know that. He rattled off few sentences in German and I sheepishly replied, 'Actually, I remember just a little.' Man was that embarassing. And not just that, I'd really like to know some basic (at least) of Spanish, Italian and French lest I'm sent to one of those countries. Yippie just that thought makes me all excited!

Tech update: I upgraded my iPhone 3G with the latest software update from Apple. So now, I have 3.0 which means I can send MMS, record voice, enjoy faster Internet and generally flaunt my iPhone. Which I do anyway ;-)

I love cooking and though I'm not able to experiment as much I'd like - I still enjoy it. I made yummy aloo parathas for dinner last night. And when my Sikh hubby licks his fingers and can't stop waxing eloquent about my cooking, I know I've done it ;) Afterall, whats the point of making aloo parathas if they taste like some South Indian aloo parathas? Authentic is more like it ;-) And if the aloo filling is leftover, I stock it in the fridge and make aloo tikkis for tea next day :D Yummy yummy in my tummy!

Goodnight Monday!



I just heart swimming! An hour and 15 mins of it and I'm refreshed. I love being in water; its relaxing. I take to it like fish takes to err... water :D Surrounded by clean, pure and fresh water, those are my 75 mins of zen. Seriously, when I'm swimming, the last thing on my mind is nothing. I'm just in water, doing my thing. Duniya gayi tel lene!

Too bad its only on mondays :(

Nonetheless, I'm hitting it with a vengeance. I want to be able to swim sexily and look even more sexy in a tankini, or if the heavens are happy with me, a bikini too! Even a swimsuit would do - as long as I look good! We have plans to go to Isle of Man or Isle of Wight in August (fingers crossed) and I want to be ready by then!

I cycled to the club in my shorts, and it was quite cool and breezy outside. I figured, heck, if I'm gonna be cold and wet, then better be prepared for it before entering the pool. It'd rained just before the end of my session, so it got colder. Plus my seat was wet. I rode back home anyway; didn't feel cold at all! Roz ka aana jaana hai mera ;)

Came home, ate yummy khichdi with papad made by dear hubby. Washed it down with apple+pomegranate+raspberry juice and topped with back-to-back episodes of SATC season 3.

Its good, mondays are all good. I'm off to watch 2 more episodes of aforementioned show before hitting the bed.

Peace!

I had the busiest weekend you can imagine; it just whizzed by before you could say "whizzed by". Just as I was looking forward to a 11 am breakfast in bed Saturday morning ritual, I was woken up at 6.45 am by my bro, who was at the third rate Bank in India. Bro tells me they can't accept my documents because there's no original to corroborate those. What the fuck?! I'd sent those after a day-long agonising talk with the customer care center (they shouldn't call it that really; 9.9 times out of 10 its not) for a whopping sum of 54£ and way too much stress you cannot put a price on. And now they tell my bro those aren't enough. I said let me speak to them, I'll convince them about my situation - me here in UK, no couier on weekends, last day blah blah. But no phones allowed, get this, inside the bank, so my bro went in again (yes he was made to come out of the bank to make the call) and tried convincing them. He called again and said they are not budging. I really hate it when some ass uses his power only to cause anxiety and grief to others. And you cannot escape such people, mind you. As it happened with me - am in a different continent and still have to put up with their bullshit-ery.

So anyway, it was decided that I should send the original document. Time check - 7.45 am. Brushed teeth, eat cornflakes, get ready. In between, spoke to DHL and found out that they don't collect parcels for shipment on weekends and it would only happen on monday. No can do, I said. The DHL customer care lady says that I can go to the DHL office at Barhill and submit my parcel, if I want it to be shipped today. Groan. Time check - 9.30 am. Left home with hubby and took 2 buses to reach the place. After 2 minor changes in the address, the parcel was shipped for 30£! I explained to her that it must be a mistake, cuz I sent a package few days back for 54£ with assurance that it'll reach in a day. I want the same service and am willing to pay more. She says, "This is the same service; its only lesser because you've walked in to our office to give the parcel rather than having us to come and collect it." (which is what DHL did last time). So, get this straight, it costs about 25£ less if you give the parcel yourself to them. Whatever! As for the silver lining, yes, I did save those 25£.

After a quick ride in the bus, which had wireless Internet connection btw, we reached City Center and repeated our last saturday's menu - jacket potato with toppings. Yummy! After that, I, of course, shopped for a lovely pair of pumps and a white tube top from New Look, and a steal-deal at H&M, where I bought shorts and a lovely white skirt for 8£. This definitely put a smile on my face. After a hard morning, I needed this!

The rest of the saturday, after getting back home, was spent in grooming myself for today. I'd rather not get into details.

Come sunday, I woke up early to make about 30 rotis for 8 people; for we 8 people were going on a picnic to Grantchester. It was a potluck of sorts - everyone brought something to eat/drink. It was accompanied by a lot of merry making and followed by card games and the ever so popular, dumb charades. We go back home just in time to catch the important match between India-England. At the end of 3 hours, felt like Indian side forgot they were playing a 20-20 match - for they looked so relaxed and calm and not in a hurry to reach the target score. R Jadeja's fitness sucks and so did Dhoni's tactics this time. It was disappointing, really. Whuda thought we'd lose this one so badly, without so much as a fight? Certainly not me.

I've got swimming today; I missed last monday for foreseen reasons, and though I'm dead tired, I'd better not miss today! 26£ a month is a lot.


I'm gonna celebrate like I won the lottery the day I hit menopause. I'm telling you all this trouble to bring a new life into this world, is just maddening. There should be a better way. If I was made God a la Bruce Nolan I know whats the first thing I'll do!

Its really fun going to office everyday. I'd never worn western formals to work on a daily basis whilst in India, so doing it here is really different. And in a fun way. Its sexy in a way, dressing up in formals. Well fitting jacket/coat, crisp shirt, ironed pants, minimal accessories, a watch, a big bag - oooo its fun to dress to work! I don't do the coat thing everyday, unless there's a business meeting with the client. I'd also *love* to wear the tie, you know the thin, narrow ones, to work someday. Sassaaayyyy! Though the dress code at work is casual, I like to dress up a bit formal here, a bit casual there - perfect!

There's one thing I wear to work everyday - a long black overcoat. I have to wear it everyday because its so chilly here. I bought it in size 6, but I doubt that it is. Its really loose! So, yet again, it looks like its hanging on me. And it doesn't have a belt. I know I know, I could've bought one that fit, but I really needed to buy one soon then. So I had to settle for this. No matter what I'm wearing underneath, with the coat on, I look like Sherlock Holmes when he's not wearing the hat. Not good.

And today, I went to work looking like a tree. LOL. I wore a green top and brown pants. Hahahahahaa, go on, laugh at me, with me :D I went on foot to work today and I'm half way there, I realised that with green and brown, I looked like a tree! :)) I actually laughed a little, walking all by myself, I actually laughed a little. That was even more silly, cuz when you laugh when you are walking alone on the streets, makes onlookers feel you are off your rocker :)) [I still can't stop laughing!]

Good heavens!



Guess who's back!


Weekend was awesome. I had a neat hair cut, thankfully. The lady was amazing and did such a superb job I can't stop looking at myself in the mirror and admiring my hair. Then again, when have I? ;-) She trimmed it just the right length, and cut a good length at my hairline, so now hair is on my forehead, short enough to not fit in my band whilst tied. Thats cool. The hubby got a hair cut too, a la Amir Khan in Ghajini (without the lines) or Langda Tyaagi in Omkara. Hubby looks dashing.

The hairdresser's had 2 dogs in the parlour. One, a big labrador called Daisy and another a sweet, all-covered-in-hair breed of dog. Didn't catch its name. The hairy one came to me just as I entered the place and looked so lovingly at me. Later, as I was waiting, the HUGE Daisy came and quietly sat at my legs. I was scared! Sure, they are gentle giants, but hwo's to say if they, God forbid, get so much as a mood swing? The lady quickly beckoned Daisy and off she went into a corner, and slept. I couldn't help but feel a little bad at suspecting the cutie's intentions.

Annnyway, after the hair cut, we went to City Center. Heaven for shoppers n eaters. With the help of this magical thing called 'Google Maps' on another magical thing called 'iPhone', we made our way to Zara. Now, its really difficult to find dresses my size. I'm size 6 (UK), petite section pls. So even if its 8 petite, it doesn't fit. So I went in praying they'd have clothes my size. And have they did! Lovely summery tops and dresses! I chose 5, and stepped in the trail room. Loved how each one of them looked on me. Then looked at the prize! Way too expensive for worth! The prettiest of all, a flowery printed smocked top, was 39£! And trust me, when I see a good one, I know it. This one, though oodles on cuteness scale, just didn't make the cut for me. The rest of them followed suit.

But not the one to give up easily, I vowed to shop. But after lunch break. Lunch was very "English". Jacket potatoes with cheese, beans and ratatouille as toppings. Hubby had the same with chicken curry, sweetcorn and beef chilli toppings. Mine was a hit, his, not so much.

Tummy full, we went shopping around. Bought a nice scarf from a Punjabi lady (they are everywhere!). She narrated her history to both of us, while I was checking out other stuff she had in her shop. Bad I know, but I'm not interested please! Nice to have met you, nice to see another Indian in Cambridge, but not interested in knowing that some relative of yours died in a freak electric fence accident! And of course not when you refused to give me a discount on the scarf!

Then we hopped to a chic store, and not just because they had a "50% Sale!". Their stuff really kicked arse! Very urban, very chic, very modern. Very me. So I bought 3 tops. Lovely lovely lovely! 2 bright and summery ones, one for club wear! The kid who owned the shop asked me, "Are you Indian?" I said, "Yea; so are you giving me a discount on these now?". The guy, God bless him, says, "Yes!". And he meant it! So he minussed 3£ (lousy I know, but the kid said he couldn't go any lower than that) from the total bill.

I was elated! My hair looks great, the tops are sexy and I feel good! Today, at work, I have nothing much to do. Tomorrow onwards, will be a busy day!

Thank your stars, ye faithful reader(s), for here I am, blogging away again!

You guessed it right. This time you have 2 people to thank (or curse) for my post. Emma and Mr.PhD (I shall refrain from taking names on my blog from now on; too dangerous.) I'm, yet again, waiting on information from above mentioned people and they are busy. Never mind. Its 5 pm on a Friday evening and they are excused.

So we had a team meeting that lasted 2 hours this morning. Great, I love meetings! I've always wanted to know and be a part of meetings where actually something substantial is discussed and a productive outcome is realised, and thats what happened. It was a meeting with a simple agenda actually - each member had to say what work (s)he's been doing and intends to do, for about 10-15 mins. Cool. I had it all pictured in my mind:

Boss: Blah blah... So who wants to go first?
Me (excitedly): Me please! I've been unemployed for 4 months and even when I was employed before that, I have never attended meetings. Only heard about them. So, I'd like to go first please!
All: Such a smart, intelligent, and brave girl! Just what we needed for our co.

What actually happened was:

Boss: OK, so I'l go first. And then we'll go round the table.

Which made me the 2nd after Boss to speak. So much for my enthusiasm! Anyway, I did my bit and spoke about what I've done and will do. All is well. Boss wants me to let another guy in on a project I'm working on so wants me to have an introductory session with him. I know you can handle it, he says, but I need a backup if you go on a holiday. Fair enough. He also asks me to prepare a presentation and co-present another. I'm excited! I love being all geek in the 8 hours that I'm in office.

People in my office are real nice. And I like to shock them. Hehe allow me to explain:

A colleague, one day: So how are you liking working for ?
Me: I'm enjoying it. I don't know what Monday blues are!
Colleague: Oh thats good to know. And how do you think the work is? Are you able to cope up with it?
Me: Oh yes. I love all things network-y and telecom-y.
Colleague: Haha. Is this your first job?
Me: No, I've been working on this from almost 6 years now.
[Shock # 1] Colleague stops dead in his/her tracks. Says: Really? I thought you just graduated.
Me: *proud+sheepish smile* (don't know how I manage that)
Colleague: How do you like Cambridge? Do you live close to work?
Me: Mmm hmm. I cycle to work everyday; it takes me 10 mins.
Colleague: Wow, so where exactly do you stay?
Me: (I tell them the street name where I live)
Colleague: Oh thats good!
Me: Yea I recently moved here from London along with my husband and we both absolutely love it!
[Shock # 2] Colleague: You are married too?! Since how long?
Me: Yes *blushing* 2 years and 7 months now.
[Shock # 3] Colleague: Oh I totally didn't see that coming!

Hahaha so has happened with about 3-4 people in office. Of course, I take it as a compliment that I look young. Who doesn't like it? *grin*

I'm kicked about tomorrow because of:

1. I'm going for a hair-cut. Finally. Finally mustered up courage for it. My Sikh** in-laws won't be pleased one bit. I don't want to disappoint them either, but I'd like to trim the ends just a bit so that it looks neat. I also booked an appointment for the hubby, since he's got hair growing all over the place and has been lamenting about getting a hair cut, but never actually did so in the past 3 months (hehehe). So I am kicked about getting an uber-cool look after the hair cut, and I hope I love it. Its always so risky letting someone cut your hair. Of course, its more risky if I cut my own hair; what I meant was letting someone new cut your hair. As the hair dresser discusses the style that looks good on me, length, layers, fringe etc... I'm all okay. When (s)he actually stars spraying the water and put the section pins in place, and gets ready with scissors to chop my hair, I get nervous. I feel I should rather close my eyes, but that won't make it better would it? If anything, it makes me more nervous because I can't even tell her if I'm liking it or not. And if the lady is too touchy, then she might just snap and ask me to mind my own business while she does hers. Its a risk I tell you. And if, God forbid, at the end of it, if you don't like it, then you

1a. can't do anything about it because its already too short, or some such point of no return.
or,
1b. won't do anything about it because the damn hairdresser has already screwed it up and you don't want her to do anything to it now.

But tomorrow, I'm going to (try and) keep all my inhibitions aside and leave my silky black long tresses in the hairdressers hands. (Uh oh.)

2. Strawberry Fair at Midsummer Common - Honestly I don't even know what that means, simply because I haven't been to one. I'm guessing it means varieties of English strawberries and items to grow your own strawberries on sale. I guess. Should be good. Also, there's going to be music and stuff like that. I'd do like to go and have a dekko, but the weatherman says it might rain and thats not cool. Oh we'll cross the bridge when we come to it.

Its 5.36 pm now. Why am I still at work? Adios!

** - Cutting hair is forbidden in Sikhism.

Long time no post...


This post comes because I'm waiting for a colleague, the lovely Emma, to get free so that I can discuss something with her and then continue with my work. Until then, I'm stuck with nothing to do. So if you want to thank someone for bringing me from my oft-self-induced break from blogging (for today, at least), you've got Emma to thank!

Lets start with a cliche... life's been pretty hectic. Its been crazy the past 1.5 months. It was crazier after Dec 08 and up until April 09, but I'd rather forget that. The work I do here is awesome, I work with some of the best minds in telecom industry and my profile absolutely kicks ass arse (now that I'm in England... ) There are such humble people in my office; almost all are armed with PhD (in khatarnaak subjects like high speed data transfer using helium technology etc.). I'd rather not get started on them actually... it will be an un-ending post then. (Not really, but you get the drift.)

I didn't get paid for the month of April, since the Finance lady was on leave and hence couldn't get my papers through to the payroll. But I wasn't complaining then. I did get a lot of stares and "are you sure? absolutely?" questions when asked if I wanted an advance on my salary and I'd refused. Salary advance after a 4-month hiatus from work and I refused, why, you ask? Allow me to explain.

I wanted a fat increase in my bank balance, suddenly. You see, because I opted for April+May salaries to be credited to my account at end of May, I have a cool amount of money in my bank. OK, to hell with modesty, its in £££ (GBP)! Groovy baby *like Austin Powers says* Just the thrill of having 2 months salaries at once was super ... err thrilling :D

And what did I do with it? If you thinking it, whack yourself. I'm a girl and in such times, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. S-h-o-p-p-i-n-g! And in UK! But before that, we had dinner at Rainbow Cafe. Uber cool place if you are a vegetarian and don't want to ask the waiter what's in the dish everytime you order something in this meat-loving-country-with-so-few-veg-choices.

So shop I did, including an ultra-sexy pair of Red Nike shoes (pic coming up soon). I also bought a cool cycle: Dunlop Mountain Bike - shock absorbers, disc brakes and 18 gears!

Yes, I ride my cycle to work everyday! Reminds me of school days, but only I'm now wearing formal clothes and big sunglasses while riding them, as against a dork in school dress and 2 plaits *going back in time and imagining me then* (yep, that would be me from 95-98 when I used to ride a cycle to school.) Ah, bad memories. No not all of my school years were bad, but most of it was. I was bullied real bad and I didn't have the courage to stand up against it. Can't blame me; you see, the bullying came from the teachers. Notorious, most of them. And I don't remember my 11th and 12th at all. Yes, AT ALL. Wierd huh? I nod my head in agreement. The other time I was talking to my friend, who lives in Reading. I remarked that I haven't remembered having spoken so much to her during our 4 years of engg (she was in Civil while I was in Comp Science) as much as we have since I moved to UK 4 months back. She goes, "What are you saying? We were together for 6 years. 11th, 12th and 4 years of engineering after that. And in 11th and 12th, we were in the same class, except for Statistics and Comp Science." Huh, really? I'm completely blank about those 2 years of my life. Like written with a marker and wiped as and when a day passed. You can imagine how much fun I would've had in my 11th and 12th. As for the awkward moment with my friend, I acknowledged being a silly goose and not remembering those 2 years.

The scene at the place where I live (with 2 Zimbabweans, 3 Polish, 2 Nigerians and 2 British toddlers, apart from me and hubby) is, not as you must've imagined after looking at the number and diversity of people living, i.e in chaos, but actually quite ice and relaxed, thank you very much. The Zimbabwean lady goes - "how do you have your hair so long? Do you have extensions?". She says the other day - "I got my indefinite right to live in UK granted today, so I'm gonna wear a bikini and go to the beach with my cousins. My baby can stay with my husband. I'm gonna come back at night and go clubbing with my friends and sisters. I'm gonna get piss drunk and completely sloshed. I told my husband I'm not breast feeding my baby for a day or two." Wierd people in this country man! Celebrate, no one forbids you, but why drink and forego breast feeding to your 8 month old? Drinking is a huge problem in this country. Smoking too. I see kids as young as 8-10 hanging outside pubs and looking for half burnt cigarette butts, so that they can have a go at smoking. Parents are not allowed to raise their voices or even beat the kids, so kids (most, not all) turn into bad habits to very young age. Whack them I say, if they steer towards anything bad. My mom used to, very often I must add. Hehehe I was a naughty kid!

OK, Emma is still busy. I'll go and see if I can disturb her again. Adios!