Phantoma Sikret

Do you remember these?

If you do, you're ancient :-)

Macavity, clearly one of the great ancient ones loves them. So much so that she sent this email to the cigarette company after being re-introduced to these cigarettes by another great ancient soul after decades of forgetfulness -

fromMacavity

toinfo@harnik.in

subjectPhantom Sweet Cigarettes

Dear Phantom Cigarette Company,

We are big fans of your sweet cigarettes and were wondering if you would be so kind as to ship us a carton. We will be happy to pay for it, if you give us details of payment methods.

Or give us a list of distributors/shops in Pune/Hyderabad, so we can purchase from them directly.

Thank you

Regards,

Macavity

On life

"She said she usually cried at least once each day. Not because she was sad, but because the world was so beautiful and life was so short."

I Sing for Joy at the Work of Your Hands

My test result came and guess what?? Okay don't guess, I'll tell you. The lesion on my abdominal area shows "no signs typical to melanoma" or any "sign of malignancy." A heartfelt thank you to every person out there that prayed for me.

I'm sure no one prayed for me about this next win, but I did a lot of praying for this - the Google Football League! And looks like someone's prayers are being listened to. About time too (I just have to add that because I feel like God has been ignoring me and ALL my prayers for quite a while).

The Tribe won!

Here's an exuberant us after our win with our trophy. And look closely, because you'll see I have a second trophy in my hand ;) Does it look like a 'Best Player of the series' trophy to you? :)

It is, and that is mine! All mine! Yes, I won the best player award - believe it or not. I still can't quite believe it myself. (Caribou, Zoram lam ai chu ka awh zo rih khawp e haha. Commentator te pawhin 'All the way from Mizoram' an ti vel dap dap reng mai! :))

And now you can also say I was famous (for a day) because a thousand plus people ate a dish named after me for lunch :P The good Macavity who never have sambar at lunch had a bowl full of it just because it bore my name and she's an awesome friend.

I played defense, but I took over the goalie role when the games get to penalty shootout stages. And I, without any shame, will include this picture of me scoring a goal during the penalties because I'm so freaking proud of myself.

The only downside to all of these is that I now have the ugliest knees in the world. Scarred, scabby, just generally very unfeminine knees.

And on top of that, just when my battle wounds were about to heal, I made this really bad decision to go water surfing last weekend and I wound up with raw knees all over again.
But I think I sort of got to instructor-stage goodness :D And I would do it again in a heartbeat even if it meant even uglier knees.

Heh! Excuse the extreme modesty. It's hard to stay humble because I'M ON FIRE! YEAH BABY!

All this joyfulness aside, I have to go for another PET CT scan tomorrow to have yet another node (on my iliac region this time) checked out. Same thing again, we need to know if they are metastases of the melanoma.

It's getting to be a bit tiring, and sometimes I'm just downright sick of it all. I think I've only had about two weekends this year that I didn't spend some time at the hospital. But you know, even though every test is always frightening, overall I'm not too worried. I think God has always given me enough good to tide me over the bad. And whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, it is well with my soul (Well I'm only trying still...)

And because the God on the mountain is still God in the valley, and the God of the good times is still God in the bad times.

The God of the day is still God in the night.

Dr Doom and Soccer and Life in General

"I'm afraid there's no hope. There's nothing that can be done. You'll have to start preparing yourself..." This is what my new oncologist told me on my first meeting with him 2 weeks ago.

After looking at all my test results and proclaiming "This is not good, this is not good at all" after looking at every sheet of paper, he told me that if this mass in my cervical region (called the pouch of Douglas) wasn't operable, there would be no hope for me.

"I'm sorry.." long dramatic pause, looking at me sympathetically. I think he half expected me to burst into tears but when he saw no tears forthcoming, he continued "I'm really very sorry."

We've been monitoring this lesion since we found out about it last year, and after a few failed tests we haven't been able to confirm if it is cancerous or just a harmless fibroid. All my previous doctors have been very positive since my nodes are all clear, and technically the melanoma would have to travel through my nodes before they can reach my abdominal area.

When I asked him why he was treating it like it was a confirmed case of metastasic melanoma when there's been no confirmative report, "It most likely is" he said. It was almost like he wanted it to be.

I was far from crying. Of course, it's scary to hear words like that, but I was too angry to focus too much on fear. How can anyone tell you that there is no hope? It is my choice, my decision to keep hoping or not to. No one should ever tell someone that there is no hope because hoping is a personal right, one that we can choose to cling to even on our death beds.

As I sat there, listening to all these dark predictions, all I could think of was how off everything seemed. "I feel like a million dollars, and yet this is what the doctor is telling me. How can I be dying when I feel so great?" It may sound a bit dense, but cancer or not, when you feel so healthy and ...alive, the thought of dying just can't really sink in. Even when this fancy doctor in this fancy hospital with all his fancy degrees tell you that there is no hope for you, your mind just refuses to believe the things you hear.

Anyway, Doctor Doom ordered a battery of tests and appointments with a radiologist (because he was positive I needed radiation therapy) and an oncological surgeon.

To cut a long story short, the senior surgeon was angry that a big deal was made out of something that was possibly nothing. He canceled all the tests that Doom ordered, and asked me to do another ultrasound guided FNAC (this is the only thing that's made me cry so far by the way, the pain is freaking intense).

I will get my test result on Friday. I feel very positive about everything. Hopefully, things will not be as bad as Doctor Doom predicted.

Well that's all on the dying side. On the living side, I am awesome! :) I signed up for one of the girls football team for the Google Football League. My team is called The Tribe, and guess who's captain? :) And it is only appropriate that a true tribal captains a team called The Tribe :P

That's me, #1, winning all the tosses for my team.

We've played two matches so far. Lost one 1-0, and I'll admit we were not very good losers. We sulked and remained dour-faced for the rest of the day.

A good lecture from our beloved coach -

And we won our second match 3-0!

Football is healthy. And I don't mean just physically. Believe me, when you're out on the ground engaged in full-out combat with your enemy, cancer is the last thing on your mind.

Love is also healthy :-)

This swell life

Booo!

This is how my feet looks right now, my classic swollen feet look. (I know you don't really want to look at my feet but I feel vicious tonight). Don't judge my poor feet too harshly though, there was a time I used to have nice feet. And these very feet, believe it or not, used to be gazed on with much love and adoration. But post thyroid surgery, bad hair days have taken a step back to bad feet days. Did I ever mention that when I was a baby, a maid spilled boiling water on my right feet? You can still see the scars. And now, that coupled with the bombasticity leaves me with very little to be proud of.

I'm home alone on a Friday night. Isn't that just tragic? My boredom these days is getting so unmanageable I'm starting to prefer being bored on my own. It's more tolerable than being bored in the company of others. At least I don't have to keep up pretenses. Here on my own I can paint my nails all the colors of the rainbow in one night.

Skipped out of work early, canceled dinner plans with a lie for an excuse. Tried to buy a pair of pretty red suede shoes to cheer myself up (thank God I still fit into a size 36!), but the stupid credit card machine wasn't working and I barely had enough cash to pay for my rickshaw fare back home. I went home fuming, accusing the whole universe of conspiring against me.

And I've been weeping like a fool because I watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless mind and I felt so sad because I missed my unswollen feet and I'm so much in love and I don't have anyone or anything I want erased from my mind ever. Ever ever.

And I feel threatened. That this 'force' - something beyond anyone's control is trying to erase everything I know. Trying to erase me.

But I'm still here, my memory is still intact. And as for ugly appendages...they're not the end of the world.

And to compensate for the gross feet picture above, here's another one. Nicer to look at with pretty green trees and because I really miss this day.

One of these days, I will do something like this for a living. Hang around trees all day. With unswollen feet.

Poor Balaam, poor donkey!

I was overcome with so much confusion and general befuddlement while I was reading the Bible the other night. The source of this deep perplexity are these lines from the book of Numbers -

And God came unto Balaam at night, and said unto him, If the men come to call thee, rise up, and go with them; but yet the word which I shall say unto thee, that shalt thou do. 21 And Balaam rose up in the morning, and saddled his ass, and went with the princes of Moab. 22 And God's anger was kindled because he went: and the angel of the LORD stood in the way for an adversary against him.

Numbers 22:20 - 22

In verse 20, it clearly says that God told Balaam to "go with them." But then when he went with the men, God's "anger was kindled because he went."

And if you read the entire chapter, you'll see that poor Balaam was actually really careful about whether or not he should go with the men, repeatedly telling king Balak despite his offers of great honor et al "If Balak would give me his house full of silver and gold, I cannot go beyond the word of the LORD my God, to do less or more."

Why was God angry with Balaam??? Does anyone understand?

How little of the Bible I understand! How little of my life I understand! How little of everything I understand...

It's Valentine's day O white-livered ones

On account of it being Valentine's day today, I'm going to take time off off my busy schedule to share one of my favorite stories with you. The following is an excerpt from T.H Lewin's book, Wild Races of South-eastern India - that's us if you didn't get it. Anyone belonging to the wild Mizo race should enjoy this story and I hope it reminds us where we came from and what kind of men our forefathers were.

And now let us proceed with the story. This is what Lewin said:

A young man, a Riang Tipperah, who lives in my house, was formerly a slave of Rutton Poi’s (a Lhoosai chief) [Rothangpuia], and I have heard from him many accounts of raids made by his master. He used to accompany the Chief as the bearer of his weapons.

His first raid was in 1860, made on the Bengallee inhabitants of Kundal in Tipperah. They fell upon the villagers at day-dawn, according to custom; and the Bengallee men, with one consent, ran away. The women, however, stood their ground, and abused their grim assailants vociferously for breaking into honest people’s houses.

The Lhoosai laughed at their shrill tongues at first, but later it was found troublesome, and one young woman had to be cut down pour encourager les autres. The Chief confided to my boy’s care two women, captives. All the prisoners were fastened together by a cord through the lobe of the ears, and the Lhoosais set out with their plunder on the return journey.

Now, one of the captive women was young, and not accustomed to walking; so after the first day’s march her feet swelled, and she was unable to go further. The Chief therefore ordered that she should be speared. “Well,” said the narrator, “I took the spear and went towards her, and Rutton Poia said, ‘Do it neatly, I will look on,’ for it was the first time I had ever speared any one.

When the girl saw me take the spear and come towards her, she fell a-weeping, and caught my garments and my hands, and all my heart thumped, and I could not hurt her. It was pitiful!

So the Chief began to laugh at me, and said, ‘O white-livered, and son of a female dog, when we return to the village, I will tell the young maidens of your courage;’ so I shut my eyes and speared her. My stroke was ill-directed, and she did not die; so the Chief finished the work, and he made me lick the spear. The blood of Bengallees is very salty. Since then I have not been afraid to spear any one.”

Among the Lhoosai it is customary for a young warrior to eat a piece of the liver of the first man he kills; this, it is said, strengthens the heart and gives courage.

Wild Races of South-eastern India - T.H Lewin

*Sigh* Don't you just miss those good old days! The days we ate human liver and licked the blood of our enemies off our spears! :-)

Seriously though, Rothangpuia is my favorite Mizo chief. If we were still living in Rothangpuia's time, today instead of spewing Hallmark-y lines to a man and giving him gifts of little bottles of liquid to make him smell like the inside of a shopping mall, celebrating Valentine's day, I would be seeing my man off to battle, and instead of a mushy love poem, I would be telling him "May you be unhurt, and bring home many heads!" What's more romantic I'm not even sure anymore...

And oh, happy Valentine's day O white-livered sons & daughters of female dogs! :P

P.s. You can download or read the book online here, which I strongly recommend you do. The Englishman's patronizing tone can get a bit annoying, but the book makes for a very interesting read otherwise.

Just call me Masterchef

Sometimes my own greatness astounds me. There is nothing I can not do in this world. How does one deal with such overwhelming worthiness? I'm like a modern day Midas, everything I touch blooms and turns into gold, or into a delicious cake!

Baking is such an ego trip :-)

If I had known mixing some flour and eggs and other otherwise boring articles together and putting it in the oven could bring one so much pleasure I would've studied baking in college. It would've been more gratifying than cutting open dead frogs and rats.

This is my first ever attempt at baking. I was already consoling myself before I got started. "Baking is hard and it's your first time so don't take it too personally if your cake comes out looking like a lump of charcoal" I told myself.

But voila! It didn't look like charcoal, and it tasted really really really good! :) (If you're my Facebook friend, you're already sick of these pictures because I plaster my wall with them). Anyway, pretty good for a first timer don't you think? Especially since my cook book was really undecipherable (ounces, grams..ugh!) so most of it was pretty much based on hunch work.

Well what I really aimed for was a Victoria sponge cake. I didn't have whipped cream so it falls short of the ideal VSC image wise, but my friends did not complain.


It's times like these that I really wish that I have the family here. Cooking is only fun when there are people to eat and appreciate it. I can happily slave all day in the kitchen just to hear people tell me how good my roast chicken was, and how full their tummies are and hear them tell me days later that they still dream of my prawn curry. And here there's only so much I and the two weight-watching roomies can eat.

Well, if anyone feels like cake, call me! :-)

Say hello to the demons in my head

(Wrote this some nights back but forgot to publish so doing it now)

Despite dear Blackestred's suggestion to unite Minotaur and my dignified cow, I feel, as an artist, I must explore my artistic spirit and graze away from my bovine fixation. Therefore, in this project, we will do demons instead.

Being the descendant of overly superstitious ancestors whose mountains and forests abounded with spirits, it's inevitable for one to grow up without a fairly obsessive interest in the supernatural. Stories from those days of yore thrilled and excited me when I was a kid, and I have these images firmly embedded in my head of what each spirit would look like. Funny thing is, I find even after all these years those images stay the same as they were first pictured in my head. And these are drawings of some of the spirits the way I've always imagined them to be.

First on the list is the tau. Male spirits I think. In the night, much akin to typical behavior of the human male, the taus like to hang out with their buddies. Accompanied by a very strong animal scent, very like the human male gathering. But the similarity ends there.

The taus, instead of chugging beer, spend their nights carrying torches and doing aerial acrobatics in perfect synchronization. Of course, humans can see only the torches, as the carriers are not visible in the dark. It's supposed to be quite a show, and those of us who never got lucky enough to witness something so mysteriously beautiful should realise that our lives are that much less richer because of it. This is what they would look like with night vision -

The tau, who is quite a social animal in the night is a loner during the day. When the sun comes up, they like to loll around on the branches of trees growing out of steep and inaccessible cliffs and sun themselves all day. In my head, the tau sunning himself always looks benign as he sleeps contentedly on his branch.


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Next we have the pheichham. This is a female spirit, and it's main job is to grant people wishes. Of course, just like today's corporate world, it insists on the longest and troublesomest process to get her work done.

When a human sees it, the shy pheichham will bats its eyelashes and run away. The human has to be brave enough to not run away screaming at its horrendous appearance, should be fast enough to catch the hoppity-hopping spirit, and be strong enough to hold on tightly and not let go because it will try to shake you off like a bucking bronco.

The pheichham will then ask him, not unlike a job interview, 'What do you see for yourself a few moments from now?' Then the brave soul will say all the things he wishes for himself, but all in one breath. If he takes a breath in between, his wish is immediately null and void, and the pheichham will jump away cackling.

The books always describes the pheichham as an old woman, horrible to behold, scraggly hair, drooping, saggy breasts and has only one leg. For some reason, in my little girl's mind, I saw her as an entire leg with a head, like so -

Pic 1.


Even now that I'm all grown up and I know now that this (Pic 2) is what a pheichham should look like, I can only picture her as Pic 1 in my mind.

Pic 2.
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Third on the list are the khuavangs. They consist of both genders and like humans, marry, reproduce and even spoil their young. They live underground. They're generally quite harmless except in the Kungawrhi story. My old school books didn't really describe their appearance but in the Kungawrhi story, they had black faces. But again, because I sort of connect them to fireflies, this is how I picture them -

They appear out of the darkness as glowy, pale faces, with a sort of a humming sound. They look sad all the time - most likely because of the drabness of their living conditions.

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And last but not the least is the khawlhring. Now this is a bad spirit, up to nothing but mischief. The khawhring's main occupation is to covet the possessions of the humans it shares its habitat with, with a particular fondness for gongs. In order to get its sickly hands on these coveted items, it makes people sick and then makes its demands through the sick person - "I want so-and-so's gong," and if this so-and-so refuses to part with his gong and its demands are not met, the sick person would never recover and eventually die.

The khawhring is a drippy, sloshy spirit, oozing with the slime of centuries old sicknesses. And of course, that's only in the pages of the picture book in my head. No one's ever given a clear description of a khawhring, and I have a feeling no one's going to find out any time soon.

It mostly afflicts its victim with terrible stomachaches. So next time you're stricken with that nasty stomach pain, think twice before you blame your poor ulcer.

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Bonus item: On the bonus item we have the tualsumsu. Personally, I think no other spirit is capable of striking as much terror as this one, the thought of it fills me with intense fear, even though it isn't in the habit of harming anyone except the poor soul it possesses. But I believe the mere sight of it would surely be worse than taking a few bops to the head. So being harmless doesn't really do much for its reputation in my opinion.

Well the tualsumsu is not actually a spirit but a possessed female human being. This woman will live a normal life and go about her daily routine during the day, but when it's night and the dark settles in and evil awakens all the dark forces, the spirit will flip this poor person upside down and proceed to make her roam around the empty streets inverted. The afflicted person might complain of a dull pain on the head the next morning, but won't remember her upside down romp from the night before.

A friend once told me this story of how when she was a baby, her dad was posted in some remote village. According to the village people, there apparently was a tualsumsu in the village, and at night people were scared to venture out, locking themselves in their houses. My friend's mother, obviously more enlightened than the simple village folks called it balderdash and paid no attention to it.

But then one night, as she was sitting by a window nursing the baby with only a candle burning and everyone else had gone to bed, out of the stillness of the dark night, she heard a thumpity-thump-thump sound coming down the lonely road. 'What could it be?' she wondered, and looked out the window - and behold! on the street was a young woman on her head, legs up in the air, slowly hopping down the street.

Now doesn't the very thought of that fill your heart with dread?

The tualsumsu somehow seems related to the Chinese hopping spirit. I saw it in some Jackie Chan movie once, this hopping spirit. Arms outstretched, hopping around and all I could think of was the tualsumsu. Maybe they're related. Or like the male/female versions, a bit like the succubus and the incubus.

I just don't like this hopping business. Normally-walking spirits are bad enough, I don't see where the need to hop arises. It's just not a nice thing to do.

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You can see I'm totally jobless. I am trying really hard to stay in more and go out less, so unless I do something, anything to do with my time, the restlessness monster will catch up with me.

Motor Acid

Kan tet laiin vawikhat D.C Workshop motor hmanrua chhia etc an dahna ah motor acid an lo dah kan chhar a. A chhung a a phek kha kan la chhuak a, lawm em em in inah kan hawpui a. Choka atangin bowl leh fiante pakhat kan ru chhuak a. Chhuah pahin chi tam tawk kan tham ru bawk a.

Inchung lamah kan tlan chho a, tah chuan tuiah kan chiah a, chi kan telh bawk a. Kan chil thli te tla zawih zawih khawp in kan han chawh vel hnu ah, kan han in tan ta a. Fian te khat theuh vel kan hawp hman tihin ka U hi a lo kal thut mai a.

"Enge in tih? Kha enge kha kha?" a rawn ti ta. Fian te chu min rawn laksak ta thawt thawt mai a. Tuman engmah kan sawi duh lo a, kan ngawi thap a. Fian chuan an hawp chhin a, "Eee motor acid elaw, tha lo lutuk! Khawi ami nge in neih?" a tia. Bawlhhlawh paihna ami tih kan sawi a.

"Tenawm lutuk, tenawm lutuk, hetiang ei reng reng suh u" tih pahin chhuatah chuan a leih baw ta vek mai a. Concrete chhuat te chu a phuan suah suah mai a acid in an chiah chuan, chuti chung pawh chuan keini chuan ui em em in engmah sawi ngam si lovin kan en thap mai a.

Chutia a leihbuak zawh chu ti tha inti takin inhnuai ah min chhuk san leh mai a. Kan zing a pakhat chuan "I U Mama chu a sual kher mai!" a rawn ti a. Midang pawh chuan sual an tih zia an sawi sap sap a. Kei lah zak leh thiante laka inthlahrung em em in ka awm a. Acid bua ai chuan min leihbuak sak tu kha ka U ani kha pawi ka ti ber mai. Khami ni a ka U kan ngei em em zia kha.

Hemi tih loh hi chu motor acid ka la ei chhin awm pawh ka hre lo. Mahse ka thiante zing ah heh tak tak an tam. Mizo lo hi Motor acid liah ching hi khawvel ah an awm ve angem le?

Death and dying and all that crap

Just in case you've missed this story in the news - it's about this dog called Leao that survived the Brazil floods but his owner didn't and the dog just sits and sits by his owner's grave for days on end.

This story really broke my heart because it makes me think of Bozo (who in fact looks a bit like Leao) and how terribly sad I would be if were to die and I had to see him sit so sadly on my grave like this day after day. So I've decided it would be better if I die only after he dies, so he won't have to go through something like this.

If I'm going to be really selfish, I think I would like to die before anyone I love dies so I won't have to go through the pain of losing them. But when I think of people to whom my being gone would be painful, like my mom, I feel so bad for them I think I'd rather she die before I do so at least she can die with me by her side.

But the best thing would be to all die together. Yep. Easiest for everyone involved. Or just live forever and ever and ever. Nothing would beat that. But life is life, a death-stricken one at that and it sucks in a major, major way because no matter what, some people go first and some people are left behind to mourn them forever, to plants flowers on their graves or something like that. And it's just a generally sad story any way you look at it.

Why I'm not saving the world

I was alone in the house the other night reading in my room, enjoying the peace and quiet when I realised that I was sort of hungry. I got up to make some popcorn and as I was walking towards the door, a thought suddenly struck me - "How weird would it be if I opened the door and I find a Minotaur sitting in the living room."

And the image was immediately blown up from a giant projector in my head, as clear as day. He was sitting cross-legged.

As I walked into the kitchen, I continued to think about the Minotaur that was not there. "I wonder what I'd do. If he was sitting at the dining table, at least I could make a run for it and get out of the house. But if he's in the living room, I'd have no chance because then I'd have to run past him to get to the main door...

Hmm...I guess I'll just have to run back to my room and shut myself in there. But what if he butts the door in? And I won't even be able to escape through the windows because they're barred." I felt almost panicky.

But then another thought popped up as the Minotaur was just sitting there placidly. "Hey I wonder....should I try talking to it? But what will I say? Hello? Hi there!? Ahoy? Namaste? Konnichiha? And even if I somehow say any of these things, and it said hello back, what would I say next?"

And as the corn popped, I thought about whether I should offer him something. "Would you like something to drink? We have tomato juice, orange juice, soy milk, or I can make you tea or coffee."

Then I quickly thought about how it would not be smart to offer anything with milk in it to a Minotaur. I know I'd freak out if someone offered me a drink made with human bodily fluids. Tomato juice, I decide. Because I was somehow suddenly assailed with a clear, calm conviction that the Minotaur in my living room loves tomato juice.

It went on like this for a while before I realised in a moment of temporary sanity how truly moronic my thought process was and that I was putting a lot of precious brain cells to work to solve nonexistent problems with a nonexistent Minotaur.

Oh and check out these writings on a piece of paper I found while cleaning the other day. Something I'd scribbled on a plane traveling to where from where I don't even remember:

It's beautiful outside, giant cumulus clouds everywhere. So far I've seen -

1. Several rainbows

2. The giant flying dog from The Never Ending story, can't remember his name

3. A snowman on its back with a giant bellybutton

4. An ethereal looking Pterodactyl

5. A chicken headed turtle

I admit now that it may be a bit disturbing to be a fully grown adult and see these kind of things. Especially since I usually look for UFOs when I'm in a plane looking outside.

Anyway, you see now what I'm getting at? I realise now the reason I have not achieved greatness in my life is because my mind insists on dwelling on Minotaurs and flying dogs. And cinnamon. While we all know that everyone on the path to immortality or a Nobel Prize should be pondering over the true meaning of life, or discovering a cure for AIDS, or fight for the poor and downtrodden.

Or even better, build an asteroid annihilator because we all know an asteroid is going to hit earth some day and by building the asteroid annihilator I will save the entire human race. Maybe they might even replace Gandhi's statue in the town square with a statue of me in my home town.

I'm sure Mr.Bell wasn't thinking of Pterodactyl clouds when he invented the telephone. And the Wright brothers were most likely not thinking of flying dogs when they were building the first aircraft. And Newton most certainly did not look up at the branches of the apple tree to see if there were any magical, mischievous creatures that dropped the apple on him.

It's a bit sad, that I am not intended for greatness. But at least now you have one more thing to be thankful for because of me! You should be very glad that there's no Minotaur in your living room and that the chances of you being killed by a Minotaur is zero because if you suddenly walked into an unsuspecting Minotaur sitting on your couch and it attacked you and you're gored baaad and you're lying there with your guts hanging out oh how desperately you'll wish that there was no Minotaur in your living room! I'll bet you never thanked God for that :-)

As for me, I will henceforth try to walk the path of righteousness and wisdom and not be sidetracked by mythical creatures scattered along the way. I will achieve greatness yet.

I wonder if Minotaurs like cinnamon...

Templates and iPads and iPhones

I got me a new template with a slightly wider text box. Yay! That's a small 'yay' because it's not what I had in mind but it's better than nothing. I just picked the first template I saw, changed a few things here and there...and I know I said no frills et al but I saw this with the pretty flowers and had to have it. And they're pansies (one may be a nasturtium). And I love pansies. They take me to a nice warm sunny place. Somewhere like Nancy Sinatra's Sugar Town. I love that song but I've always wondered about the meaning. Is it about drugs?

One hitch - I can't change the blog archive link color. Anyone knows how to?

I was just going to write about the template but lemme share a quick screenshot. It's from an email thread about when/where to meet up for dinner the other day. This one friend 'S' wrote:


You see how that 'Sent from my iPad' is even more visible than the message itself? I know..aaarrgggh! right? 'Sent from my iPhone/Blackberry/iPad' messages makes you want to send the sender to outer space. Anyway, when another iPhone-less and iPad-less friend 'N' and I read the email, N decided enough was enough and sent back this reply:

Don't you just love 'N'?

By the way, what do you think of my cow drawing? It's a dignified cow with a green scarf :-)

Need a new template. Help?

Okay I need a little help. I'm looking for a new blog template and I've been looking and looking and I just can't seem to find the type I have pictured in my mind. I saw some wordpress themed ones that I like but I'm really fond of my raggedy blogspot site. If you have any suggestions, I'll be happy to hear them.

All I want is a big text box, where I can write a few sentences without it looking like the longest and windingest post in the world. I'm also particular about background color - must be white/light colored. And 'About me' column preferably on the left hand side of the page...Annndd no frills, no glittery butterflies, no shiny fairies, no colorful flowers. Just a plain, no-nonsense template - but not too severe or boring or plain :P

See such a simple template :-)

Or if any of the tech-savvier types out there is interested in making customized templates, I'm happy to pay for it.

Hello 2011

Hei hian kumthar post tan phawt ang...

Ka zin kawngah lungngaihna tawkin

Zan thim te lo lang thin mah se

Ka nun hruaitu Krista A ngai reng

Mei leh chhum dingin ka kawng min en thin

Ka tan ni leh thla eng lo mahse

Lalpa ka kumkhaw entu A ni

Hmuhsit elrelna lo thleng mah se

Lalpa ka ropuina a ni

Ka hringnun hian ropuina zawng leh

Chawimawina chan dawn mah ila

Hmuh theih ram tha ka thlang ngai lovang

Engkim a engkim Isua ka nei si

Khawvel ah hian thimna lo thlengin

Beidawnna chhumpui lo lang se

Hlimna hian min hnuchhawn mahsela

Ka enna Krista ka tan a tawk e

Counting my 2010 blessings

I'm leaving for Mizoram tomorrow with the family to spend some time with the rest of the family. Sort of excited about the new year, hoping for a lot of bad things to go away this new year. Also partly dreading it because I'm scared that the bad things will continue to stay or even get worse.

Anyway no matter what, I still think 2009's been a pretty good year. Things got crazy there towards the end of the year for sure, but even those brought so many good things with them undeniably. I'm not in the best of spirits now to be honest but I intend this post to be a strictly thanksgiving post so yeah let's see....

Okay, 2009 - the year of the great cancer attack. Gah! Not wanted. At all. But it's also been the year of the fabulous Japan trip! And don't forget the very important promotion...and soo many wonderful things that came throughout the year.

But mostly I'm so thankful for the people in my life. Like the friends and cousin whose bloods pump through my veins right now. Literally.

Or that wonderful lady who lit a candle for me in the beautiful St. Stephen's Cathedral in Vienna.

And special friends who knew enough to give you a Poe while everyone else is forcing self-help books down your throat.

And my grandma who cries on my the phone and makes me sad but softens my heart every time we talk on the phone.

And that friend who sent me Australian health supplements all the way from Melbourne. In fact, made his grandpa send it to me because he was not even in Australia to do it himself. Just because he hopes it will help me beat cancer.

And Zimi the Indian who sent me Zorba the greek so I would have something good to read while I was recuperating and bored in bed.

And my dad who sends the right messages at the right time and lift my spirits.

And my mom who is and has always been my ultimate pillar of strength.

And all the people who come to my blog and leave inspiring messages that gives me faith and hope.

And the rest of my family who keeps calling even when I don't want to talk :P

...and it's impossible to write down all the truly thoughtful things that people have done for me. I'm a bit sad that I can't think of too many nice things I've done for others. That will be one of my new year resolution.

Well I'm going to sleep now because I'm tired. And while I brush my teeth, let me upload a few pictures.

This one's from tonight, took the family out for a last Hyderabadi dinner for the year at Sahib Sindh Sultan.

Christmas day, St. George's Church
And my new favorite person and I at the park :) And yes, he makes me laugh. Like a perfect little gentleman.
This new favorite person also now accompanies me on all my evening walks. It's going to be lonely walking by myself when he's gone.

Have a wonderful new year everyone!

Behind the clouds

I didn't want to do a quick post but I guess I will have to anyway if I want to do any post at all :(

I feel like this blog is slowly turning into a cancer blog but there seems to be a lot of that in my world right now so here we go again...

Okay, first the good news that I was so excited about. Well it may not seem that great a deal to be honest but it means an awesome lot to me. I took my radioactive iodine therapy on the 16th of this month. Dreary isolation room for 32 hours and 5 days later, I had my final full body iodine scan on the 23rd, and the doctor finally declared me all good. Hooray!

I was really excited because it was so scary waiting for the result to come worrying about 'What ifs?' - What if the therapy doesn't work? What if they find that the cancerous cells had actually spread beyond the thyroid region, beyond the help of the radioactive iodine? Just the thought of entering the isolation chamber again dragged me down to depression hell, I dreaded it so much. That's why when the doc tells you all's good, your spirit leaps and stays on the air for quite a while because you can finally let go of so many of those 'what ifs' :)

And you know what this means - my thyroid ordeal is over. At least until the next check up scan 6 months later. And I am finally on my thyroid replacement meds which again may not sound like a whole lot but when you've been through days of extreme lethargy and general tiredness and you feel like a freaking zombie because your body is swollen like shit and nothing you do helps and it's a struggle to stay awake all day, it's the best thing in the world to know that finally, these medications are here and they are going to help you and you don't have to put up with that crap anymore :)

I still have some minor melanoma related tests and ultrasounds that I have to go through in the next few weeks, but whew! So much more easier to be dealing with one cancer than two. (Actually, make that dealing with two cancers instead of three..and that's another long story that will take up an entire post.)

Anyway, I'm very happy. It's like a huge chunk of weight has been lifted off my shoulders, and I just want to announce to the world that I am rejoicing :D

And oh, I also feel compelled to mention that work sucks. More than it's ever sucked in 5 years. Of course, it's probably got to do with me being out of touch with everything what with me being out of office so much but still...

Anyway for this reason and the other two cancers that I'm still dealing with, it is very important to take what little reason one has to rejoice and blow it out of proportion and celebrate in grand style :) For example, we went out for a really nice dinner on account of my mom's surgical drain being removed yesterday haha

If you're reading this, you should go out wearing your best dress and shoes and celebrate something. Maybe the fact that you and your loved ones are healthy and alive should be a good enough reason to start with.

So tell me what's a little rain?

I have good news! I have good news! I'm so happy today :-) But I'm saving it for later because I'm at work and I don't want to do a quick post about this one. I want to tell a story, a real, proper story. And I will try and do that tonight but till then, I want to share with everyone the one song that has helped me through the darkest 3 months of my life and made it possible for me to cry tears of happiness despite the many tears of pain.

I hope with all my heart that at least one person can read/listen to this song and see and feel the things this song has shown me. It is one of the best blessings I've received in a long time. It's called 'Bring the Rain' by Mercy Me.

Bring the Rain

I can count a million times

People asking me how I can praise You

With all that I've gone through

The question just amazes me

Can circumstances possibly change

Who I forever am in You?

Maybe since my life was changed

Long before these rainy days

It's never really ever crossed my mind

To turn my back on you, oh Lord

My only shelter from the storm

But instead I draw closer through these times

So I pray

Bring me joy, bring me peace

Bring the chance to be free

Bring me anything that brings you glory

And I know there'll be days

When this life brings me pain

But if that's what it takes to praise You

Jesus, bring the rain.

I am Yours regardless of

The dark clouds that may loom above

Because You are much greater than my pain

You who made a way for me

By suffering Your destiny

So tell me what's a little rain

So I pray

Holy, holy, holy

Is the Lord God Almighty

---

I realise the first few lines sound like it comes from someone with immense faith and strength - so not me! But I hope I'll redeem myself when I write about the details later on...

If I Can Dream...

It's such a beautiful day. Can I dream for a while?

Only a few months ago, I had so many travel plans, some big, some small but all of which I had to put on hold because life kept throwing the darndest, most unexpected surprises at me. A few canceled trips later and still more for the future, here I am itching like mad now to get out and go somewhere. I can't even look at my suitcases without a twinge of longing.

I miss the smell of airports. And the feel of airports...Hell I think I can even merrily skip through an hour long security check right now. Or even just jump into a train and go wherever that train is bound for (I wouldn't mind Mongolia:)). To be among a crowd of strangers, not knowing who I could meet, who I might run into, what kind of experience awaits me...

I want to sit on a beach where no one knows me and where I know no one and just be lost in the moment and not have to think about surgeons and dermatologists and oncologists and radiologists and calcium levels and interferon. And to sit in the sun and not worry about what the sun's rays will do to my skin cells.

I want to go hiking, climb up a mountain and stand on top and look at the world from there and cry because I'm so happy to be a part of all of these. Behold all of God's wonderful creations and sing at the top of my voice because it's so beautiful.

I want to jump into the ocean once again without worrying about whether I will sink or float. But if I'm going scuba diving again, sink successfully this time :) Or go skydiving again but with the man I love this time.

I want to spend a night in the forest camping out under the stars with my dog and a few good friends and a guitar. I want to have a little house with yellow curtains with a cobbled pathway with cosmos blooming on the sides. I want to have a pretty little garden and grow my own vegetables and adopt a few more dogs.

There are so many things I want to do! Someday soon...

But right now I can't even go out of town because I have to get admitted back to the hospital on Monday for my radioactive iodine therapy. But thankfully, till then, I have plenty to do. Another cousin coming over for the weekend. Yay! Cousin Biteii will be here and it'll be fun to show her around the city. And having mom and the others back here. They're all getting here tonight so I have to rush home and cook a nice dinner for 6 instead of the usual steamed French beans and a glass of protein drink for 1 :-)

And one of my most favorite people in the world is getting married this weekend. I look forward to wearing my best sarees (...one of which is a brand new Rohit Bal ladies! Woot! - which I could indulge in only because of a canceled Europe trip by the way), do my hair and wear pretty jewelry - even though I feel freaking weird and bloated because of my no-iodine diet. Bloated in a designer saree but who cares!

Drugs and dreams

I've been having the craziest dreams! Some scary, some just weirdass funny. Like this one I had last night. It started out as this normal enough dream I think. Or uneventful because I don't remember anything about how it started. Or it just started in the middle as dreams are wont to start. They like to start without beginnings, these sneaky dreams, and often just dissipate without proper endings. Or just end horribly. And once in a while delightfully, but that's rare.

Anyway in last night's dream, there I was walking alone in a dark street somewhere in Mizoram. Then suddenly two of my cousins came bearing down on me, asking me why I've gotten into drugs. And even though there were no drugs involved before they showed up, their question made me remember that I had bought drugs earlier on that night and immediately felt it in my jacket pocket. I threw it out while my cousins were not looking.

They threatened me in all sorts of ways that made me shake with fear and cry and shout telling them that I had never ever used drugs in my life. Never ever. And I didn't know why I had bought them that night. No one even seemed to hear anything I said.

It was a luminescent green liquid in a tiny plastic bottle by the way, the drug I'd bought. More like a fairy tale magic potion than anything else.

They kept asking me what it was that I had bought. I told them genuinely that I didn't know. Then all of a sudden these annoying cousins were gone and I was alone. I was putting my hands back in my jacket pocket and touched a piece of paper - the receipt from the drug dealer! Yes, this very nice drug dealer had written me a nice handwritten receipt :)

And I looked and guess what was written on it? There on the piece of paper was written very neatly and clearly the name of the drug I'd bought, which was...wait for it.....Whatchamacallit :-) And beautifully written too. I read it and I remember the word as well as I would have if I'd read it awake. And after 'Whatchamacallit,' the drug dealer had written within brackets - (otherwise known by it's chemical name '.....') and I can't remember that part. I just remember Whatchamacallit haha What part of my subconscious that came from I wonder!

It surely can't be the influence of books. All I've been reading in the past few days have been 'The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket' by Edgar Allan Poe, and 'whatchamacallit' is not something I think one will ever find in Mr. Poe's vocabulary.

The night before that, I was standing in a courtroom and it was me that was on trial. It was all very chaotic but it cleared up and quieted down all of a sudden. They had just announced the verdict, and I was guilty. And then someone asked the judge (who was a very, very big, stern looking black man by the way) what my punishment was going to be. He looked at me in disgust and in the most menacing and hatred-filled voice I've ever heard in dreams or in reality, spat out 'Death!'

I woke up with that word ringing in my ears and hated Mr. Foul-mood-judge because I don't get enough sleep as it is and he woke me up in the most impolite of ways and didn't even come back to apologise for it afterwards when I went back to sleep and slipped back into dreamworld :-)

(And don't try to see too much in my dreams and overanalyse them :-) You might say I'm condemning myself because of all my spiritual strife over my shortcomings, or you might say they're drug induced because a lot of people seem to think I'm still on heavy medication. Just calcium tablets people! Not strong enough to hallucinate on or kick start drug-induced stupors I would believe... :)

Dreams are fun to talk about the next day. The things your head conjures up when you set it free...isn't it just amazing? In fact I think I'm actually quite creative with my dreams even though I have nothing to do with them :P And who cares if the delightful endings are few and far between? Good movies don't always have to have happy endings. I've always liked movies that have me sobbing my heart out in the end.)