Taxi Tales

Before moving to Abu Dhabi, I did not ponder much over how life would be here. I prepared only for a few basics such as carrying travel converters or having a clear opinion about Arvind Kejriwal’s impact on Indian politics. 

I did not think about not having anyone to talk to outside of office or the looming non-existent social life. And surprisingly, none of it bothers me. It did not even cross my mind until someone pointed it out. To be specific, until CG spotted a trend in my taxi tales. 

Our end of day catch-ups would often have a narration of an interesting exchange with the guys I depend on more than the security guards of my building. Here are a few highlights from the last two months.

Taxi Guy 1: Young Pakistani guy, bent on proving that my house is too far from my office. He named at least five localities that would have suited me better and how I should tell my employers to get it changed. He was kind enough to offer any help I needed and gave me his phone number and shift timings if I ever need him. 

Taxi Guy 2: Nepali guy who had worked in manufacturing units in Noida and Faridabad before moving here. I think, the conversation with him was after a few days of not speaking in Hindi. I loved how he judged me for being from South Delhi and showed off his knowledge of the city!

Taxi Guy 3: A middle-aged Pakistani man, he had a Hindi radio station on which started playing Rafi’s “chaand mera dil” soon after I climbed in. I love the song, and clearly he did too. We both started singing together. *yes, I feel safe enough to let loose here*. I enjoyed it – late evening, city lights and a connection from home. To my surprise, I complimented him. He obviously wasn’t expecting it, so just smiled. But the next moment, he took out a tape with a Pritam/Anu Malik collection and sang all the way till my destination. “Bheege hont tere” is not something I can sing with a stranger even in the safest zone.

Taxi Guy 4: After dinner with some colleagues, I got inquisitive questions from another Pakistani guy, this one with a heavy accent, about the people I was with, my family, my work, and so on. Here’s an excerpt:

Him: “Pati keedhar hai”

Me: “Pati nahi hai”

Him: “Wallah, phir keedhar hai”

Me: “Abhi nahi hai, shaadi nahi hui”

Him: “Eedhar kis ke saath rehti ho?”

Me: “Akele rehti hoon”

Him: “Parivar keedhar hai” 

Me: “Dilli mein”

To deviate his interest, I told him they were holidaying in the hills. But his deduction:

Him: “Wallah, tum to ameer ho! Idhar kya kar rahi ho? Koi mama/chacha/bhai nahi hai kya eedhar? Mera to mama ka ladka saath rehta hai. Saamne gali mein bhi ek bhai rehta hai! Tum akele kyun aayi eedhar?”

Me (now anxious and unsure about the rationale of my move): “Main chali jayungi kuch maheeno mein!!”

Taxi Guy 5: This Malayali guy was not comfortable with Hindi but insisted on talking in the language and telling me all about his romance with the wife. It was cute until he mentioned how she wanted to commit suicide because his parents wouldn’t approve of the marriage. And then how she and his children now live in Kerala to take care of old parents. But later he gave me tips on the best south Indian restaurants in Abu Dhabi and I discussed my only Kerala experience with him – Wayanad! 

Taxi Guy 6: This slightly scary old uncle with lots of surma judged me by the complexion of my skin. When he discovered that I was not from Pakistan, he talked of how South Indians have darker complexion. I tried to show off my knowledge of Punjab since his last name was Jalandhar but he took my case for associating it with ‘land’ as his name came from his grandfather’s. I do still wonder where his grandfather got it from. 

He then talked of Kashmir which made me uncomfortable because I could not decipher most of what he said in that serious tone. I then heard the word ‘aman’ and peacefully went to work. 

Taxi Guy 7: Without a doubt, this man loved Delhi more than I do! He had visited in 2012 and spoke of it as he had seen it only last week. He described his experience vividly and at length. At one point I noticed he was driving at 60 kmph (which is a rarity in this city where “please slow down, you are crossing the speed limit” is the most commonly heard phrase) because he was so lost in his story of the Delhi Metro. 

He was a sharp guy. Asked me all about my profession and then came up with an example to demonstrate his understanding of what I had explained to him. And then it got awkward because he was looking for a new job and there was no way I could have helped him.

Taxi Guy 8: “Khalifa Street, near Pizza Hut.” “After the Central Market?” “Erm, I don’t know, I am new here.” “That makes it the two of us!” “Oh! How long? I’ve been here a month.” “15 days today.” *Turns on Google Maps* 

And when I am not participating in any such conversations, I am cursing away in my quest to find a taxi!

Five Weeks...

...since the 'off load' joke was played on me at the Delhi airport before letting me board.

The new bank here gave me a free credit card. Two of them. My firsts. I thought I would not use them but I discovered that I cannot make online purchases with my debit card. So I was forced to use one today. I chose the gold one. Something about it was fancier even though its credit limit is lower.

Before this I never got a credit card because I neither trusted myself nor the banks. I am halfway down 27 and I know people start using these cards much sooner, but I think this is a good time. After all, the first purchase wasn’t a dress or a bag – it was registration for a colo(u)r run. I missed playing holi at home, but am hoping to compensate myself with this! Going beyond an endless search for a Chappan Bhog outlet that sold gujiya on holi!

Thoughts about the age and stage of life often cross my mind these days. Would I have been able to manage this independence responsibly 5-6 years ago? I doubt it. I would have confidently denied this fact then, but I know better now. Or so one always says about the past. 

You will have to take my word though when I will tell you that I know McDonald’s does not qualify for a meal even when you are starving, even though they call their food a ‘meal’. Was I this discerning earlier? Disagree.

In my personal life, I am again slipping. I am aware. But happiness clouds reason, doesn’t it? The reason which makes for ‘funny’ memes and corny posters. Like this.

I talk at length. I cry with ease. I save memorabilia. I depend. I am becoming who I chose to stop being long ago. 

He talks of children. 

I am scared to step out of my uncomfortable, dark world.

The career, which has led to all the newness is hitting a roadblock. A real one. One which will blow up soon. I can see it coming. I feel like my feet are freezing right when I should be warming up to run. Hoping a little. Denying a little.

On a different note, I never thought I could get to doing this myself.

Or live on my own by the sea and have dinners next to Burj Khalifa.

New Life

There is so much happening every moment of every day since the last few days that this is the best I can get to capturing everything.

Emotions so far:

• Anxiety

• Excitement

• Panic

• Worry

• Happiness

New nationalities I have interacted with:

• Emirati

• Chinese

• Filipino 

• Kiwi

• Aussie

• Malaysian

First time at groceries:

• Pulses

• Cooking oil

• Utensils

• Salt and spices

Other new things:

• Figuring out a new currency and an entire system around it

• Search for a house

• Not having a clue which direction to look in before crossing a road

• Attempts at making every office day dressy

• Efforts at viewing Pakistanis without any bias

• Did I mention cooking?

The good thing is that 9 out of 10 people here have gone through the above experience. 'New life' is such a loosely used phrase that I will never be able to explain what I am going through. But these people are truly making every first step of the new life as comforting as possible. 

And family, well, they are the pillars that keep me standing.

Farewells

More farewells

Packing up, getting stranded and flying on V Day

New extensions, temporary home, huge portions of food, and multiple time zones

Welcome flowers and pastry

Oh yes, I can do this too!

Client offices and views of the sea

On a bad day

It’s one of those days when I hate most things and most people around me. Yes, that’s an ugly photo, an uninteresting story, unwarranted criticism, misplaced attitude, blah! Blame it on unwanted insomnia. 

The only image that feels good is that of vast, open spaces with bright colours. Alas, I cannot plan a trip yet. Do you know how it feels to go two months without planning one when you actually average a trip every six weeks?

The only sound that I have interest in is his voice. Thank you, dear tele-services providers and internet. I know you do your best to make the 4000 miles feel as less as you can.

I am craving for some good Chinese food. Honestly, I can never get enough of it. But yes, it would have been nice to have something interesting for dinner than sit alone at home and stare at the office laptop.

Highlight of the day: the new hairdo had a special moment where it was doing things that made people ask me if it's straight out of a salon. Worth the bomb I paid for it? I think so. :D 

Actually the real highlight of the day is supposed to be a secret. :D :D

Going old school

....as I begin a new chapter.

Choices

Some massive decisions are through. Probably the ones likely to have the biggest impact on my career. I hope I have not made a mistake. I wish I had a crystal ball that made things easier. Whoever said real life is easy! 

Today I broke a piece of my own heart. I never expected to face such a day.  

Packing my flimsy little world now.

For Life!

She thinks I am twisted and unpredictable. She has been clearer about what’s good for me and what’s not far more than I ever have. But just like me, she is not so great at managing her own shit. Enter Baiju Hindocha.

I first heard his name and saw his picture in early 2010 when the two of them went to Mexico for an MBA exchange program. My earliest memories include thinking he’s cute and listening to him talk in the background while she and I skyped about some inconsequential things like pretty beaches of Cancun and unemployment all at the same time. 

A few months passed before I was formally told that whatever was going on kinda had a meaning to it. I knew it was never going to be meaningless. That’s not her shit. And he knew that well.

I do not remember anything from my first meeting with him, except that she was totally smitten. A few months later, she and I had an argument which he seemed to read better than she did. That’s when I first took him seriously. 

Months passed, I heard a lot about IMT parties and events and placements and more drama and how none of it apparently bothered him much. It was impressive. 

He is one of the rare few people, or perhaps the only one, who is not in my immediate circle of friends and yet I have an alcoholic bond with. Yes, that’s a type. We downed a few drinks together on her 24th birthday and that’s when I finally loosened up and accepted him. 

Through these years, I have seen him hold her hand through the craziest of times and never once frown about anything being said or done around him. I have to admit, he is pretty awesome!

When it was my time and responsibility to ensure she looked at things sensibly, I did my best. Y’know, I am pretty awesome too!

So finally after a WHOLE lot of drama, they got engaged in the summer of 2013. I planned so much for that occasion that I just missed it. Just like that. 

But I was not going to miss this shaadi. I was almost living in her house for those three days. Yes, when the cats start hanging by your clothes, you are pretty much an occupant of the Kapoor House. In other words, every member of that house welcomed me as someone more than a guest – more than a friend of the bride. I LOVED running up and down to facilitate the chooda process, I loved being the first one in for her mehendi evening, I loved being the last one to get mehendi on my hands, I loved it that her mom expected me to take care of some things. My muscles ached from all the dancing to the dhol, but I loved every moment of it, including the slight awkwardness. 

I thought she looked gorgeous that day. My camera and the new lens agreed. I was very happy and satisfied.

More muscle ache looking for a stupid photocopier in an unknown place for 60 minutes just so I could take a print of her speech, forgetting that printout at home, having five glasses of wine, shedding tears of happiness for a second consecutive night, posing like crazy at the photo booth, telling her sister-in-law of my very own Gujju romantic interest (hic!), and talking endlessly while Lynn drove me back home was that awesome cocktail night at a super pretty rooftop venue. I ate something that I loved but have no recollection of. Show me the menu again, someone!

With a horrible hangover and crazy shit going on in office, I focused on her haldi and tried getting some more pretty pictures. I was loving it!

It meant a lot to me that she asked me to be with her while she got dressed for her big day. She had earlier told me that she considers me to be her sister. I had cried then. Through all this she treated me like a sister. It overwhelmed me. But it was so exciting watching her transform into this stunningly beautiful bride. The folks there did something to my hair and I looked half-decent too. :P

She is the only bride I know of who made fun of herself on the wedding night. You really had to be there to witness the madness that that hour was.

I wish I had stayed for the pheras. When she formally signed up with him for life. I wish I had stayed, not so much to see her happy, but to see how he expressed what he felt. 

I haven’t seen them since. Soon, at the pending photo shoot, I hope.

Here’s wishing them not just a happy new year, but a lifetime of togetherness through the real shit that will begin now. I am sure she will struggle, but I am surer that they will sail through. 

With all my heart and a lot of love,

Richa

And it's a wrap!

But there still was a lot that I managed to do this year. 

# I climbed 13,500 feet of a mountain topped with snow. Can I write this in all caps? No big deal, I know. But it is a personal achievement. Massive.

# I experienced the magic of Ladakh. Pure love. 

# I got to watch Zakir Hussain, live, again. The man is magic.

# Attended my first 7.30 am south Indian wedding

# Accepted to face an issue and sought help

# Almost drowned

# Sneaked out of home one night for the first time

# Dealt with dad’s illness

# Voted for change

# Saw the white desert

# AGAIN did not see through the process of getting my driver’s license

# Did far fewer stupid things

# Stayed in a house boat

# Met a stranger for chai and realised there are others who are struggling more

# Struck a conversation with another stranger only to realise it is very hard to get someone to know me now

# Saw Bombay from the 35th floor of a Nariman Point building

# Had people send me flowers from beyond international borders

# Participated in a theatre workshop

# Tried very hard to find a new job

# Lost sleep

# Lost another person who I thought was a close friend 

# Joined a dating platform only to find every other interesting person uninteresting

# Danced a choreographed dance

# Attended exactly one month of salsa lessons

# Hard work in office got acknowledged 

# Fell in love with Harvey Specter

# Got closure

# Watched Suvvir grow into a monster baby

# Wanted to marry, was asked for marriage for wrong reasons, watched some great people come together in marriage, saw some close people’s marriages fall apart

# Bought a new lens

# Experienced massive lows at work

# Continued to struggle on the health front

# Bought and wore a lot of bling clothes

# Significant cut-down of alcohol also happened this year

# Rode an elephant after more than a decade

2014 is expected to bring newness. I honestly do not know if this blog will see through its eighth year, but I do hope it does. 

Another Year

End of last year, I felt I don't know what to expect from 2013. At all. It felt like I am approaching a blind turn. But I did not know if I should be slowing down.

I did not slow down. But I waited for things to change. I became the person who is too anxious about the future to live in the moment. Everyday decisions became a factor of unknown variables of the future. I never thought I would be this person, but I am. And today, I am aware of likely events of the future which will bring big change. But because nothing is certain as yet, I am just sitting and cracking my knuckles. Growing up, among other things, has made me more cautious and boring. 

Moment of doubt

How do you deal with the world on the day that you realise you are no longer the person you have been all your life?

And I Wonder

For a few years now, I have related well with the phrase, “let it flow”. Sometimes I have tried to resist that flow, but on most occasions I have drifted along. Because I don’t think it is a matter of choice. Life has taken its own course. 

But these days I feel differently. I am hanging by threads that could snap any moment. I have no idea which ones to hold on to. I am not sure what choices to make. I am afraid I would fall. Again.