Chronicles of Being On Time

My first job interview was gruesome. It was a sunny (read: hot as the satan that inhabits hell) day in Jakarta. I woke up early enough, left home way too early and yet I arrived 10 minutes late. What can I say? My so-called expert taxi driver got lost and had the shortest temper I’ve ever seen. Needless to say I didn’t strike a very good first impression with the interviewer, not just because of tardiness. I carried that insecurity, flustered energy throughout the interview. The warm temperature had me sweating and its common to sweat when you are stressed anyway. I don’t know what got them into offering me the job, but I didn’t end up taking it (salary was miniscule and they’d get eaten up by my hour/daily commute anyway). Ever since, I don’t think I’ve ever been late anywhere.

Tardiness seems to be a way of life for most people. At least, most people I know. People are known to arrive real late ANYWHERE. But of course, there are two types of late comers.

First type is the people who TRY to be on time. Somehow, they make self-promises to do whatever they can to reach on time and yet fail to do so. Some people prefer to call it as sociopathic disorder but since I don’t know much about it, I’d rather not comment. These are the ones who end up getting highly stressed when running out of the door, already late. You can tell by their sweaty faces, flustered looks, jittery hands, nervous finger-tapping and so on. If you are amongst these people, you need to constantly make the effort to be on time. I assure you, you’ll get there ;)

The second type of people is the type who I want to kill. Those who deliberately come late and remain guiltless about it. Honestly, if they say this is part of a certain culture (ever heard of Sindhi timing?), then this is where those adapting this culture need to grow the hell up. I fail to understand what in the world makes it okay for people to make others wait for them. By doing that, they are simply showing their true characters; selfish, inconsiderate prudes who think time belongs to themselves. No matter how much we chide them for it, it only seems to pop in from an ear and leave from the other. Which is, to say the least, sad. If they fail to acknowledge it as a bad habit, then never will they be on the roads to recovery for their tardiness. And as wrong as this may sound, I end up criticizing people they grew up with (siblings, parents, etc). I think to myself, “Poor fella. His folks didn’t teach him the most basic of all manners in the world”. What is even more irritating if this person comes all decked up with make up and then apologizes because they ran out of time. Sure, you have enough time to put face powder to convert you from a Mediterranean to an Asian, but you couldn’t spare 2 minutes thinking about how you kept everyone waiting. I have a new word to add to your vocabulary. Its called priorities.

Timeliness speaks a lot about yourself. It simply tells people that by being on time, you are able to manage your own time, value other people’s time and energy and cares enough about the agenda to arrive well on time. It also speaks highly about how you’ve been raised, and what education you were fed with. By education, I don’t mean a fancy college degree but the way you’ve been taught about valuing time and people. If you’re never on time, well, you’re an idiot.

“But what if I had a flat tire? And what if my baby suddenly cries so loudly, he wakes up a hibernating polar bear? And what if the traffic goes beyond its usual craziness?”. Sure, we’ve all been there. There are just some instances we can’t control. But hey, the 21^st century brought us a technology developed by the wonderful Industrial Revolution. It’s called a cellphone. It can be used to inform other people with phones that a matter has come up that may prohibit you from coming on time. This device also lets other people contact you to know what in the world is keeping you away. All you have to do is click and say “hello”. It’s easy, my 3-year-old nephew can show you.

Personally, I do not like arriving late. I am one of those who prefer being earlier than everybody else, simply to either get a good seat, spend a lavish amount of time ogling the menu to choose my meal, avoid stress when traffic hits me up, avoid being annoyed when people call me a gazillion times asking where am I and so on. Again, this may be irksome to those people who always come late. Actually, latecomers should write a blog post, stating how early comers bug them. HA! Funny story, this was one of the ways I evaluated my husband, back when we just met each other. If he turned out to be one of those late people when picking up their girlfriends, he’d be a no-no. Fortunately for us both, he’d either be 5 minutes early or right on time.

If you find tardiness also annoying, start by reminding people around you. You can also do that with your children. Teach them to value of time and implement timeliness at home. If you are a latecomer yourself and want to change, you are already a step ahead then those losers who find it cool to walk in a room late, with eyes gazing upon them, evaluating their stupidity. I do several things to keep me bright and early everywhere I go, which are tips you can take. I make several alarms since I’m a deep sleeper (sorry, hubby), make checklists of my to-do to help remind me I need an early start, plan my day in advance and time them to know when I’ve gone overboard, organize where I keep my things to grab them quickly (keys, wallet, bags. Still terrible with my phone but at least that can be located with a call haha) and most importantly, I keep those who may wait for me informed. If I ever feel like I may be running late, I make sure to tell people in advance that I am expected shortly but a little later than planned. That way, you don’t keep people waiting for too much time and stay chilled while trying to get there as soon as you can. WIN WIN!

Help me make this hellhole a better place and teach others how to make full use of their expensive wristwatches (seriously, its Rolex on every other wrist, aren’t they used to tell time at all?)

Phew! I’ve been wanting to get this off my chest for the longest time. If you are reading this, thanks for staying all through my rants. Until next time! J

Funny Habits Sindhis Possess

As always, I start with a disclaimer. I am a full-on Sindhi. My last name(s) end with a –ani, I love papad and laugh heartily when my folks say “ edjhe kele ja bhare” (kids nowadays). Spending 27 years (and counting) in a Sindhi household has made me realise, we have so many weird habits. Bad habits? Or just plain funny? You decide.

Sindhis don’t exactly have a home country to go to. There is no longer a country called Sindh. It will always be a small province in Pakistan. But if you’re not a Sindhi, chances are that you can easily spot us all over the world, doing one or few of the following. Mind you, this is just for fun. No one needs to get offended. After all, all of us, including me, are guilty for at least one of the following habits!

1. If you receive food in a Tupperware that is yellow-stained, don’t worry. It’s nothing dreadful. That is where we keep our leftover dhal (lentils) and achar (pickles). Somehow, there is always dhal in a Sindhi fridge. Our homemakers make them a lot and store leftovers for what seem like months. Personally, I’m not exactly a dhal person so those yellow Tupperwares put me off. And the smell! Ooooohhhh the smell! Its not gross, but its not exactly flowers-on-grass-and-leaves-in-the-air summery kinda smell, you know what I mean? If I have to describe it, it smells a little like salty, dried leafy greens. I challenge you Sindhis, go ahead and ask your mom or grandma if there is some dhal in the fridge. If they say no, stakes are high they will whip some up right away.

2. There is no such thing as a light vacation. Tell someone you are travelling for the holidays and expect lots of parcels. One for their friend, another for their aunt, aunt’s daughter, aunt’s daughter’s friend, aunt’s daughter’s friend’s cousin and maybe even their dog. And the dog’s puppy. You get the gist. After all, we are nice people who like making others happy, so we shut up and bring them all if we have the weight. Lo and behold, all those people you passed on parcels to, returned the favour and probably passed along gifts for your mom, dad, brother, nephew, aunt, uncle, cousins, grandparents and it goes on and on and on and on. I don’t remember travelling ANYWHERE without carrying things for other people. It’s different when we choose to buy gifts for people (which we do happily) but when others make us bring their stuff? Totally acceptable if they do so with ethics (small sized, light-weighted items). But no, I will not bring 10 kgs of mithai (indian sweets) to feed your entire nation of family.

3. If not for others, people will ask us to carry things for themselves. If they hear you are travelling, they summon you to bring all kinds of things. But, without mentioning any name, a friend of mine recently brought a COFFEE TABLE abroad, as a request from her aunt who she’s staying over at while abroad. I mean, a coffee table? Again, this is socially acceptable when ethics accompany. But seriously, a coffee table?

4. While we’re still in the context of vacation, I have to say this. Somehow, I feel like we know EACH AND EVERY SINDHI FAMILY IN THAT TOWN. Which makes us need to visit each and every one of them. Can you ever go somewhere and see each and every nook and cranny of the city? Impossible, because there will lunches. And dinners. And coffee. And if we don’t go, we’ll never hear the end of it. “There are just 2 homes to visit” they say, and then add, “oh but how can we not go to the Mulanis? Oh and the Nanwanis? And the Vasnanis live just next door”. Sure.

5. Make sure you keep your stomach empty while going to people’s houses. Pump your stomach prior if you must. Because, you will be fed. I mean it, they will not let you go without eating an entire plate that can feed a whole third world country. If you don’t, they will assume you are on a diet and start exclaiming why we’ll get ill or they will even take it personally that their food isn’t great. “You want some aloo tikki?”, “what about some mithai?”, “okay at least try the pakoda”, “why aren’t you eating anything?”, “you can't leave without eating”, “okay take home some biryani”.

6. Don’t trust us when we say that we are leaving. Because we won't. Customarily, as hosts, you tend to drop us off at the doorstep. But then, the conversation will start over. New topics will unfold. New gossips will unravel. New names will pop up. Another country will be developed. A new Harry Potter movie will be made. Another religion will be founded. And that’s when we’ll finally go home.

7. Tell your folks of the yesteryear generation that you are seeing someone and the first question will be “is he/she sindhi?”. “Sure, he/she is a Sindhi. He/She is covered in racist tattoos, tells crude jokes, is a chronic drug user, considers profanity a language, smuggles children for a living, stole from my wallet last week, but that shouldn’t matter as long as I choose a Sindhi, yes?”.

By the way, my mom’s first question was “can he dance?” seeing that she is dance expert herself. Yikes. Moms.

8. Dine with a Sindhi on a Monday and prepare to see the world’s biggest eyes if you order a non-vegetarian meal. Sindhis have this tradition about being vegetarian on Mondays. They call it “God’s Day” because apparently, God is on vacation every other day? Hey, I don’t mind what you choose to eat. Let me do the same and we’re good. Oh, I do try to stick to my veggie days. Not because its God’s Day *insert eye roll here* but because a balanced lifestyle is good.

One uncle once called me “religion-less” because I forgot it was a Monday and I ordered a chicken sandwich. My dad heard the story and called HIM the religion-less one. Dad, you’re awesome. My granny's pretty cute too. I jokingly asked her I'd go to hell for eating meat on Monday and she said "paap mukhe de, tu bhale kha" which translates "Just pass me the sins, you go on and eat". HAHA. 

And that’s it! I’m pretty sure we awesome Sindhis can associate with the above and can even relate to doing one of the above.

It sounds like we are very odd people. But hey, which culture doesn’t have some kind of oddity in them? Needless to say, I’m proud of my culture, where I came from and the values instilled to me by my Sindhi families. I assure you, we are a bunch of really large-hearted people. We go out of our way to help one another. We don’t have to know you, but you’d only need to ask and we will be at your door. We get a little excited at parties, we great each other a little too loudly, our jewelry may blind you a little bit (you hear that, pretty aunties?), our wedding outfits get heavier by the year, our uncles drink a lot of Johnny Walker, but we’re a pretty amazing bunch of people. We love it when non-indians wear our traditional clothing. We share our yummy food with everyone. We sing Bollywood songs with so much happiness and are happy to tell you their meaning (okay technically, Bollywood is Hindi but po-tay-to po-tah-to).

 I’m Sindhi and proud, are you?

Orientation Days = Not Very Orienting?

October 2015. So recently (okay, not very recent), our Ministry of Education released a law stating that orientation at universities must be led by lecturers, not students. A cup of hot chocolate accompanied me that day at my Master’s campus in Yogyakarta, when I overheard the news from a nearby television. I quickly grabbed my cell and Googled the news for confirmation. It was true!

You’re probably wondering why this news brought about such happiness to me, considering the fact that my university freshman days are way behind me? Truth it, those days passed by physically, but not mentally. But let me start from the beginning.

February 2007. I cant remember the date exactly, but I received a phone call from my first choice of university in Jakarta (whose name I have decided to omit, but those who know, oh well), informing me that I have aced their entrance requirements and that I was officially in, if I wanted to proceed with the application. I was ECSTATIC! Of course, studying abroad was my dream but being daddy’s little girl, he couldn’t get acquainted with the idea of sending me away. Either way, I got to go to my choice of local campus, so all’s well that ends well. I went ahead with the application, received my info pack a couple of days later and that I was in. I was officially a freshman, along with some peers from high school.  

Excitement, excitement! I was counting for my orientation days. I couldn’t wait to meet my classmates, my lecturers, get a hold of my books, new stationeries (I’m a sucker for good writing tools) and ditch my school uniform! I wish I wasn’t as excited as I was then, because the days to come, were a bunch of nightmares.

August 2007. Pre-orientation day came upon us. The orientation crew consisted of senior students, comprising of class mentors, disciplinary team and other supporting divisions. My own class mentors were lovely. The crew developed a pretty strict chain of events for orientation, along with a equally stringent dress code. There were so many do-it-yourself items to carry; a signboard to be hung down our necks the whole time, a made-from-scratch notebook for assignments, hand-drawn university logo and so on. On top of that, we received a crap load of assignments, had to join an out-of-town excursion and so on. I didn’t mind them. At first.

A bunch of us reached the campus together on our first orientation day. We were late as there was a no-personal-car policy during orientation (parking around campus was a bummer). Joining an initial checking line, some of us had our name tags taken for “punishment” and had to write our lateness issue on our signboards. My first impression was that they were a team of tough seniors. We weren’t greeted well, treated like children, had our bags opened for content check and were instructed like robots. The day proceeded fine. Several info sessions were wonderful, which involved several lecturers and other academic representatives. But I distinctly remember, our assignments were left unchecked, despite of the constant reminders for completion. The whole day’s event took place up to late in the evening, with a bunch of more assignments to be handed the next morning. On top of that, those who had faults on their signboards were asked to stay back. We were made to assemble in the front lobby and we were HUMILIATED to death. We were screamed at. We were laughed at. Some ass**** caught me shivering (yes, that’s how bad it was) and he and his friend sniggered behind my back. Whatever. I don’t remember what the screaming was about. Something about being responsible, being prepared for more tasks to follow.

Day 2. No lateness this time. But my name tag was initially taken for wearing a dark blue belt (the note wanted black but this was the closest I had). They let me go upon seeing my scared-as-hell face and my explanation that after the previous day’s late event, how was I supposed to go out and get a new belt? Of course, I got the typical “how do you not have a black belt? That is so weird” a million times. Yes, because my fashion choice is to be determined by my college seniors. Do you want to pick out my wedding dress too? Anyway, I got to keep my name tag, which meant no senior screaming down my neck. Our assignments received a small note this time. At least they were read. Later during the day, we learnt more details about our excursion, which was a one-night stay somewhere away from Jakarta. Sounds fun? Think again.

Excursion. We gathered real early to make our way to the outbound location. I felt relieved to be off-campus. The change felt good. Upon reaching, we found out that we were to sleep in barracks. Wooden huts with one small light bulb. No pillows, no blankets. I didn’t mind as I’m adaptable and honestly, rather adventurous. The weather grew cold towards the evening and the only thing that would keep us warm was our orange overalls, which we were told to wear 24/7. Mine got dirty and smelly within the first hour due to the muddy games but no one was allowed to exchange them for a new set. Our phones were taken without notice on how long until we get them back. Bathrooms were dirty. No plumbing. No lights. I would have used my phone for lighting, BUT IT WAS TAKEN AWAY FROM ME. Still, I didn’t complain. It was just one night.

But then, the worst happened. Night time. We were all asked to sleep by 10 pm with warning; we must keep our shoes on at night, along with our overalls and helmet. Sleep with our shoes on? Something funny I expected for sure and I was spot on. I left out my shoes, as they were wet. At around 2 am, an array of firecrackers were shot, along with what sounded like a police alarm. We were woken up by force and rushed to the main outdoor area. Upon reaching, we were asked to lay flat, head down on the floor like slaves. An ant nest was right under my chin and I put my face up to locate elsewhere. A huge hand touched my head and forced it down. No explanations were allowed to be given. An ant nest was on my face.

We were then broken into groups and tasked. The worst task of the day. We were to enter the forest individually and follow a designed trail to reach the other end of the forest. We weren’t allowed torchlights. So literally, the only thing guiding our path was the rope for trail. A slip up and we would have been lost in the woods without light. Granted, they had people in every post in the forest so the chances of being lost were small but we were frightened to death. My turn came and I decided to ignore my active imagination and walked by. I felt surprisingly brave and walked confidently until I felt a cold hand on my rope. That was when I found out, they had placed not only people to help us keep our track, but also placed fake ghosts to spook us out. The hand I touched turned out to be a kid’s, who dressed as a “tuyul” or a ghost-boy. I lost my breath. It was cold, my shoes and overalls were wet, I couldn’t see a thing and a creepy figure was in front of me. I walked away. I don’t know how but I did. There were more challenges along the way. Someone threw leaves on me to freak me out. Another one made eerie laughs. What felt like hours finally came to an end and I joined the rest of the team around a bonfire. It was in the wee hours in the morning that we got back to our barracks, sneaked in 2 hours of sleep and woke up to pack for home. HOME!!! The word never sounded as good before. I must have slept through the whole way home. No shower, no toilet (my cubicle had beetles), my hair was completely tangled and barely any sleep, I was a zombie back home. My folks were so worried, was this how my next 4 years was going to be?

No. not at all. My apologies to the orientation crew, but none of the activities prepared us in any way for our university years. My lecturers never screamed at us, we were never humiliated for poor quality of work, we never had to record our faults on a humiliating signboard, academic reps listened to our queries and assisted us the whole way through, I never had to pull an all-nighter. So what was the point of the whole orientation routine? It was probably downright to embarrass us, intimidate us and show their position as seniors in the campus. My next 4 years sailed so smoothly, I couldn't have asked for more. Later on, I applied to join the committee of the orientation days, simply to help put a change for the next batch as honestly, it was painful to see the cycle on repeat. With a bunch of other people, we did manage some changes, although being freshmen, we couldn’t do so much.

In other developing countries, bullying during orientation is common. In India, some were made to strip in the nude, wear pigtails on their hair and dance to trashy tunes. A case in Taiwan showed freshmen being asked to pose on the roads to garner attention and laughs. This makes me feel sad because orientation is supposed to “orient” you in the days to come. In most countries, it was about survival skills in college, what to wear and what not to wear, how to ace our papers, how to choose our classes, how to shape our careers upon graduation, how to manage our load of tasks and all else, none of which we received during our orientation. Those who we managed to ask, answered fine and showed empathy but overall, we were treated like scums.

This was why I as happy for future freshmen, as they didn’t have to go through what most of the people my age did. The whole set of activities were traumatizing and I do not exaggerate the word traumatize. A few of my friends passed out during the excursion and refused to attend the first day of classes. Anyway, the law passed by the ministry of education received a lot of flak initially, mostly by campus seniors all over the country who actively took part in "welcoming" freshmen. Some freshmen too were heard complaining as they wanted to be at the other end of the torture. But overall, the law has been passed well and I believe lecturers are doing a better job at elaborating what campus life is like. Students are also involved in the activity but under supervision from lecturers to avoid unforeseeable circumstances. I honestly believe, it is human right to be asked to be treated with fairness and justice. We have the right to exercise freedom of speech and have a right to be heard. Bullying is not cool. Governments all over the world have worked hard against bullying and reduce to mental effect of bullying in freshmen. It is unacceptable for reputed universities to participate in demeaning chain of events that can scathe even the bravest of people. Kudos to the Indonesian government for the attempt of protecting freshmen!

It has been 8 years. But my active imagination still takes me back to the forest, clutching the cold hand of a little boy who sneered at me with black eyes and stone-white hands.

Our Obsession with Celebrities

We all love celebrities. I mean, can you pick just ONE public figure you completely adore? Can you honestly say you have never tried to imitate a fashion idea from your favorite celebrity? Have we not stood in front of a mirror, pinching our bellies and sucking our cheeks in to get that “look”? Guilty as charged. Clearly, celebrities play a huge role in our lives. They’re everywhere we go. When you’re in the supermarket, the magazine stand displays them on the cover. When you’re online, you Google their latest scandal. When you’re home, you watch some E! News. And every other minute, you hear about how brave Caitlyn Jenner is while undergoing her sex change. It is inevitable. So it is safe to say, our world is obsessed with celebrities.

As a keen observer and self-acclaimed perceptive person, I thought of a few reasons as to why I believe some of us are completely all over celebrities. They look amazing, most of the time. They seem to have their lives together. Some of them make more money than a nation’s Gross Domestic Product. Their houses can accommodate part of some third-world countries. Their spouses are dreamy. The list goes on. And we cannot help wanting to be like them and try to learn more about them.

I am not sure as per the boundary of healthy and dangerous in this case, especially for younger minds. Some incidents will never leave my thoughts. I vividly recall Kylie Jenner’s “Kylie Jenner Lip Challenge” which encouraged people to suck their lips through a short glass and then release the glass to allow them to have bee-strung lips for a little while. As a consequence, a lot of people suffered from chapped lips, stitches due to broken glass and so on. Also for Kim Kardashian whose marriage lasted for no longer than 70 something days with that Kris dude. Still on Kim who wore killer heels during her last trimester of her pregnancy, defying all labor care suggestions by gynecologists and pediatricians everywhere. AND has published a 350+ page book consisting of all her selfies (sorry guys, I don’t like trash-talking celebrities but if I hear one more story about the Kardashians, I will cry).

This obsession is more apparent after the dot-com rise in the recent decade. News channels are more accessible and we “commoners” can reach out to our favorite celebrities directly on Instagram and Twitter. People have been crazier ever since. Suddenly, we have given way to online stalkers, cyber bullies and other psychopath we find online these days. Those who find a way to steal celebrities' private images are the worst. Of course, if you aren’t a celebrity, you’re probably fine.

I don’t mind a healthy celebrity infatuation. I share a little of it too. I would kill to dance with Shahid Kapoor, although that would be a ridiculous scene. But these desires to learn more about them should not come in the way of us learning about those who try to make the world a better place, by doing more than wearing a barely-there one piece and upload them for a million likes. We ALL know who Caitlyn Jenner is and what she did, we ALL know that Justin Bieber spat on his fan once, we ALL know he and Selena dated (are dating?), we ALL know that Kareena Kapoor gets along with Saif’s children. But how many of us actually know that Paul Walker spent a huge chunk of his assets on charitable activities and philanthropy. That Akon created Star Academy to provide electricity to 600 Africans? That people in Haiti are eating mud cookies simply to survive?  Our IQs seem to get lower over the years, but our ego and infatuation are getting fed. Which is sad, considering that the fact that our rat race towards the finish line should not be based upon the number of abs (six-pack, eight-pack, now I hear there is such a thing as ten-pack?!?!) Shah Rukh Khan is aiming for his next movie. Oh, did you know that in India, Rajnikant's fans have made a 150 feet statue of him, which is washed with milk every other day. Mind = boggled.

It is time for us to stop getting brainwashed by the media. Their headlines have been spiced up to cater to what we want to read. We do not need a full on write-up about Rihanna’s outfit to the VMAs, nor do we need to know for how much JLo has her butt insured. Respect those who deserve to be given the accolades. Don’t forget our true heroes; our firefighters, medical staff and police workers (at least those who work free from corruption) who fight their way for a better country. Respect celebrities, but remember that they are not the center of your world. Most importantly, start respecting yourself and your intellectual self. Feed your mind, not your ego.

Cheers xx