Dare To Dream

" A man is not old until regrets take the place of dreams "

John Barrymore

Here We Go Again

25 times I've done this. Reflect on the year that's passed. I'm a sucker for moments and nostalgia. I would usually let a year go with a heavy heart. This time, I'm not too sure. They were so many reasons that this year was great, and many reasons that it was the worst. Let's see :

- I've danced a whole lot more this year compared to the last 3 years. At the same time, I also came to realize that I may have missed the bus that was probably gonna get me to a place I can remotely say I have a dancing career

- Earned reasonable amount of money in the beginning of the year and then quit in July. In between jobs ever since

- Took my first steps into pursuing my photography, and I am in a dire need of a DSLR to take it to the next step

- Me casa got a new look, but we celebrate it without Mithran

- My one music idol reached the pinnacle of his career, and another has left us forever

Who said life was easy eh?
:)

I'm thankful that I'm surviving. For all the friendships I've made and strengthened this year. And for all the small moments that made this year bearable.

Happy New Year everyone.

The People In My House

This isn't a school essay about my family and I. ( Yeah, what was up with that anyway? Every single school year started with a damn karangan about "Myself", almost all the way up to Form 5. Ish.) Anyway, the people in my house.

My mother has this habit of naming things in my house.Well, I wouldn't really say it was a habit of hers, but she just started naming things that we use everyday and we are very fond of. So much so, over the years this has become a ritual in our family and we have grown so fond of the things we named. They seem more like people as opposed to just cars and computers. And by name I don't mean Spots, Ladoo, Bubbles, or Tiny. They have real Indian, human names.

We've named things from computer, to the plants, to our baby bolsters, and uh - adult bolsters. But we are most attached to the cars. When she named our oldest boy, the others followed suit and we now have a theme with our car-naming. All the cars in my home are male and their names begin with the letter M.

My baby Kelisa is called Manindra. When I got him in 2006, I actually looked for names in baby naming sites for a name I might like. His name means diamond. I also had Mayank ( means moon) in mind, but my mom finalized on Manindra and I liked it too.

My mom's Myvi is Maheeban, which means King. The only black car in the house. Nice right the name? I would have sooo named my son that if my mother hadn't chosen that name for the car. Ah, what the hell. He is like a son too.

My dad's old school Benz (you know the long boxy looking ones) was called Mughil, which means cloud. He really was adorned in white, like a pretty cloud. Now, I say was because we sold him a coupla years ago. His replacement, my uncle's round-light Merc does not have a name yet. We call him Mughil too, we can't quite get pass the name. Only thing is that he isn't white.

Our oldest, a Nissan Sunny, is called Mithiran, which means friend. He has been the most faithful piece of metal in our lives. To date, he has not had an accident and ironically the few times he has broken down, it happened in places that we were not to be stranded in, like nearby my dad's office or a friends house where we can easily call for help. He has slogged so much for us, I can't even begin to explain how he has made our lives easier. When my dad bought Mughil in 1995, he wanted to sell Mithran. My brother and I protested, and my mom had to take up driving in order to keep and she did. Oh, what would we have done without him. I couldn't really drive manual, and I consider myself unlucky for being the only member of my family who didn't drive him actively.

Now, why this lengthy story of cars and names? Well, Mithran, he has been falling apart over the years, bit by bit. We realized a few years ago that it was best we let him go. He is rusting up inside and not used so much anymore. We thought its best we put an end to his agony. My dad's mechanic has been looking for buyers lately and he will leave us soon.

I can't imagine my home without him. He's been with us even before I was born. Even though we don't drive him much anymore, he is just there. In the house. He's as if like an old friend parked in the compound watching over us. Not in this lifetime, would any other car my family or I own will have the significance to what Mithran is to us. He has been indeed been a friend more than anything. It's gonna be really tough letting him go. Poorni is never gonna be the same again. We are loosing a family member. :(

Poorni, by the way, is the name of me home. My mom I tell you.

It's That Time Of The Year

Merdeka! Merdeka! Merdeka!

I'm so bored. I think it's a sin to let a long weekend go to waste.

Ah, what the hell.

-_-

Kerala People Rock Too. . .

. . .like really hard.

Got this from a friend of mine who is coincidentally a Malayalee living in Mumbai. He digs all these rock bands and stuff, I am not such a rock person. I am more into R&B, hip hop and as a dutiful Tamilian and its roots I love classical Indian music and dapaaguthu. Tee hee.

But this, was shocking. It exceeds expectations, the fact that it is Mallu Rock, the video, everything. Turns out there are more rock fans in Kerala than we think there are. :)




Band : Avial
Title : Nada Nada

Time's Ticking

So it's almost the end of August. I've been outta job for a month now. Decided to finally take a step towards shaping my life the way I want to to be and doing the sort of job and things I wanted to do.

It's not been easy. Ahh, well. Whoever said everything falls on your lap at the exact time you want it? Gotta wait for good things to happen to you.

Only thing is the wait is torture. Like really. Contrary to popular belief, having nothing to do is actually really hard. Sure you have all the time in the world to do what you wish. But to wake up without a purpose and go to bed without feeling tired. . .

Time's ticking. And I am frustrated.

Sigh

.
.
.
.
.

The Kite Runner

I might be a little late to jump on the bandwagon on this one. This book was published in 2003 and then the movie was released in 2007. I just got around to reading it over the last week. People around the world seem to love the book and the movie as well, and I am wondering just how I missed the hype around all this.


The book is amazing, heartbreaking to say the least. You'd often find yourself dazed out after reading, pondering of the characters and events that unfold. It tells you the story of friendship, love, betrayal, religion, patriotism, courage, redemption and ways to be good again, if that is achievable in today's world. Your heart aches at every twist and turn of the story, simply because of the irony that comes along with it. And for softy I am, the last two chapters required a tissue by my side.

Do give this book ago, if you haven't that is. I have to go hunting for the DVD. -_-

The Kite Runner is written by Khaled Hosseini, an Afghan born writer now living in the US.

You Rocked My World, Indeed You Did

I woke up on the morning of 26th June with a devastating SMS from a friend and then a call from my cousin delivering the worst possible news. Dazed, confused, sad and torn. I got ready for work with thousands of tunes and videos slide-showing in my head. I got out of my house, thinking to myself how ironic that the weather was gloomy. I sat in the car, switched on the radio and heard him crooning, “You Rock My World”, and broke down.

That night I drove back to Ipoh. Alone in the highway with him playing in the background, I was still tearing.

Cried like a baby watching his memorial two weeks later.

I am still tearing, as I write this.

It’s been a month since we bid farewell to the greatest entertainer that ever lived. It’s been a month and still I can seem to put in words of this feeling. The feeling, a mixed bag of joy and sorrow, for having lived in his era, and then loosing him.

What can you say to this do this man justice?

I can't for the life of me accept the fact that he has passed on. The icon that made me and million others, love music and dance is no more.

Michael Jackson.

I react everytime I hear that name. EVERY single time.

I feel privileged to have lived in the musical era of a genius. In the era that the world saw it's best musician, singer, entertainer & performer. There will be no other man to eclipse his success. There will NEVER be.

Here's a man, one in a gazillion, to be so gifted with abundance of talents, whether it was singing, dancing, composing and song writing. People who sing that well aren't supposed to dance AS well. You are just NOT supposed to.

But he was of course, God's gift to the world. Michael is probably the first and only artist to have the largest fan base one can possibly imagine. With the way the world currently is, it is no surprise when artists break cultural barriers in conquering masses. When Michael did it, it was history.

To call him the King of Pop is not enough to explain what he is. For I think, he changed how music was going to sound and how music videos and dance were going to look. He was a performer par excellence, with unusual but unique dance moves, unique sense of style and electrifying sense of presence and a man with a great sense of self and individuality. He, I think, IS Pop. He is legend.

Such a person deserved better. But the world was cruel to him. They didn’t leave him alone when he was alive. They don’t seem to leave him alone now neither. The scandal and rumours and speculation circling his death are too unfair for him and his family, especially his children. I wished those who didn’t let him live in peace should at let him rest in peace.

My first memories of him were when I was four. The age children start to recognize faces, music, movies and everything from television. My mom had then taped a show of Michael Jackson that was aired in conjunction with the release of his second solo album Bad. She used to put in on while she fed me. I fell in love with his music, dance. Everything. I remember watching that tape every day.

For some reason, I thought I was Michael Jackson. I remember watching Bad. He had curly long hair. Considering my age, I thought only women were allowed to have long hair, and so I thought he was a woman. My hair was curly. I had just started dance class then. As my interest grew, I looked to the one person that rocked my socks off. And I started calling my self Michael Jackson. Introduced myself that way to EVERYONE. Two of my father's friends in Ipoh still call me Michael Jackson to this day. Yeah, I know.

I used to put on the tape and dance like crazy. Thriller used to scare me. I still used to watch it hiding behind a wall. Billie Jean was mind-blowing. Bad was cool. Beat It, Dirty Diana, Another Part of Me, Smooth Criminal. They were not just songs. They were my childhood.

And a million of others’ teenage & adulthood. The world mourns today, with unbearable pain, reminiscing on the memories he has carved in all of our lives.

I wished he got his chance to perform for the last time, say goodbye and redeem himself. If not for anything, to prove he can still do it at 50 and remind everyone of his greatness. Then I thought, maybe he didn’t need to do that. I think this is his way of punishing all those who not only forgot him over the years, but put him in tremendous turmoil and torture. It is apt that he left; making us feel worse than he possibly could have when he was live. It is apt that he left; leaving us wanting more.

Up in heaven, I hope he gets my prayers and my heartfelt gratitude for having graced my life the way he did. You rocked my world, indeed you did.


Michael Joseph Jackson, I will forever miss you. Rest in Peace.

Decisions

Decisions. Decisions.

I happen to find myself in a position to make an important one. Well not one. Maybe a couple. So nerve wrecking, but I absolutely think it's the jolt I needed to move on with my career and life.

Sigh.

Aggrrrhhh

Blogger's being a pain. Save my damn settings, you moron.

*woosah*

See you all later.