The Cord (redux-ed)

This was my first work of fiction, which got published in an online fiction mag. (Some of you may have already read it). But the mag seems to have drowned into a state of suspension, and I miss reading it ....... so here goes! (Please do remember that this was written by a younger me. Judge gently :-))

She stretched on her bed, while attempting to open her eyes against the morning sun. The movement caused her feet to tingle - her legs seemed to have developed a sleep-wake cycle of their own these days. She saw the red nail paint on her feet and suddenly remembered that she had to wear white today. She never had many clothes in white; Ma didn’t approve of young women wearing white – they were reserved for funerals. She remembered Ma insisting on colorful stoles to counter the whites in her wardrobe when she would dress for college.

     But this was a funeral – the first one in her life. Ma had kept both the sisters out of funerals. But Kartika couldn’t avoid this one..

     Kartika didn’t know whether she was supposed to wear the gold bangles and chain that she was wearing. Ma insisted she wear them all the time. Funny how she remembered the white outfits, but not if people wore jewelry for funerals. She decided to remove the jewelry too – better to err on the conservative side.  As Ma always reminded them all the time, “You can always add more salt to the curry later…”

     Kartika giggled as she remembered Ma's long dress with yellow flowers, the one that Ma wore when had run behind the school bus the day of her school picnic. Kartika was already seated in the bus, and the girls had already finished the customary “Hi Kartika” chorus. Suddenly the bus had stopped, and only then did Kartika see the bright yellow dress…

     The harassed bus driver had stopped the bus, Ma convincing him that it was imperative to stop the bus while holding up traffic, so that she could give her daughter a goodbye kiss.  Kartika was 5 and she  hadn't been able to hide her embarrassment.

     But Ma being Ma, had walked right in, hugged a wiggling Kartika, planted a moist kiss on her forehead, and given her last minute instructions. As a parting shot, she had called out a ‘bye-bye’ to all the kids in the bus……..

     Kartika remembered how the sisters became young adults with hormones, emotions and egos running wild. They liked everything Ma did not; and then Ma began to adjust to the burgers meals and the party wears – sometimes even offering suggestions for both…..

     Marriage took Kartika geographically away from Ma, but emotionally closer to her. Ma now stopped monitoring her clothes, her friends and her exits from home......but Kartika would call up every time she had a little detail of her life to share with Ma.

     Kartika was shaken out of her reverie by the sound of crows outside. Weddings or funerals – you’d always find crows here. Large, black and impatient. She wondered why they made such a racket. She could hear the sounds of domesticity outside her room – there was some strange comfort in those sounds. She struggled to get out of bed, and change into ivory colored dress.

     She went into the kitchen and saw her aunt come in carrying a tray of empty tea cups and biscuit plates. She started when she saw Kartika at the door of the kitchen. Her aunt was a tiny woman, with the birdlike delicate mannerisms that tiny people usually have. She gave Kartika a wordless hug, and turned around, continuing to keep herself busy. Everyone around seemed to be caught up in a frenzy of activity that allowed them the luxury of an unthinking, mechanical state of mind.

     There were at least a hundred people out there. They had come for the funeral yesterday. Ma’s funeral……

     "You could have waited for me Ma."

     “What for? You are always embarrassed when I kiss you … even at your wedding; you said it spoiled your makeup.”

     “But that never stopped you from doing what you wanted.… You kissed me every time you felt I needed it. You made me wear those hideous caps every time you thought it was cold. You listened in on the extension when you thought I was talking to ‘that useless fellow’. You put butter in my food in spite of my pleas – because you thought I was skinny. You bought me stuff over my protests. Why is this suddenly about what I feel?”

     ‘There are some things I cannot control, Kartika. You knew I was going. You and I, we were fighting this disease for a long time, weren’t we? Life needs to go on for both of you – I’ve taught you all that I know….  Now go comb your hair away from your face, so that people know you have a forehead as well. No daughter of mine is going to look like she’s been hit by a truck!’

     Kartika giggled at Ma’s attempts to tame her. The somber-looking old women who had come to mourn her mother’s death were watching her with shock. She went in to comb her hair just the way Ma would have liked it. She even put on some nude lipstick. She was about ready when the nausea hit her.

     She remembered she had not eaten yet; the doctor had said she must not let acidity strike her in the mornings. She had almost forgotten the iron pills too. Heck, she’d almost forgotten that she had only a couple more weeks to go before the baby would arrive. It was one of those moments when she felt she could do with a hug.

    

      She could see Ma shaking her head in disapproval.

‘Your life is not only yours, you know….... That baby needs nutrition. What kind of a mother will you be if you don’t even remember to feed your baby on time?’  

Kartika looked at the mirror, her palm gently rubbing her bulge. She smiled.

“I am waiting for you, Ma. And this time, we’ll see who gets embarrassed.”

The Krishna Key - A review

When blogadda announced that Ashwin Sanghi's next book was up for review, I pounced on the opportunity to read up on what could be a worthy successor to his Chanakya's Chants (which really was a 'cannot-put-down' read).

So when the book came, I could barely wait for nightfall (reading is a pleasure that is now confined to when the kids are tucked in and the rest of the world has drifted to sleep). A few pages down, and one gets a sense of deja-vu in the book. That's when it hits you - a brilliant (and sexy) scientist, framed for murder, on the run with another female scientist (yup! sexy one again) trying to solve a mystery while evading the law. Vaguely familiar? It's like someone tore up the pages of 'The Da Vinci Code' and 'Angels and Demons', shuffled them up, and replaced the Christian stories with Hindu mythology, and sewed it up again.

Not that one should dismiss the book as a 'copy'..... Its not original, but definitely worth a read. Let me try and get into the nitty-gritties without giving away the plot. As I usually approach reviews, lets look at the various aspects:

• Plot : Yes, you've already read something that looks like this, and in all probability, you know what the next chapter is going to tell you sooner or later. You also know that the similarities between this book and other best sellers are not coincidences. But the book still manages to strike a chord - maybe its the renewed interpretation of the stories we've heard from our grannies; or maybe its the attempt to get to the 'patriotic' Indian in us - the book gloats about the superiority of the mighty civilizations that existed in the Indian sub-continent (there! doesn't that ALREADY appeal to you?) and how historians from the 'West' tried to change a few facts to change history. So yes, the book certainly has pages and pages of well-researched feel-good facts about our glorious past, interwoven with a tried and tested plot.

However, the only problem with this plot was that sometimes, it goes all over the place, hinting that the author himself might have been confused how he wants it to end. Somehow, the climax leaves you wanting to turn yet another page and find a closure to the whole madness in the murders. The gruesome murders seem pointless and unexplained in the end.

• Writing style : Its a la Sanghi all the way. Just as in Chanakya's Chants, we move back and forth in time. The events in the mythological character's life are used as bookmarks to pave the way to the next big revelation in the present. But one can't help comparing the two books by this author; and when one does compare this to Chanakya's Chants, this one comes across as slightly confused, slightly forced. Some of the connections between mythology and the present were lost to me, which was not the case with Chanakya. But, having said that Sanghi does not disappoint with the research. (I learnt that Ranchordas is a name for Krishna!!) Yes, sometimes one does feel inadequate while reading (you see, everyone in the book - from a murderer to a thug, seems to be an expert in history and symbolism!) but the explanations are made out in simple language. It does force one to rethink all that was taught to us in the name of 'Indus Valley Civilization'.
• Character development : Could have been much, much better. When one reads, the words have to be able to paint faces to the names. Somehow, I couldn't put a well-defined face to even the main protagonists in the story. The characters with shades of grey had much more scope in terms of why they are as they are. Like I said earlier, some actions seem forced - because the author wanted a certain closure -  and not because that would have been the logical course of events.
• Words and print quality: There were no grammatical or typo errors, which is a big thing these days. Editing could have done much more, some distinctive words (the kinds you would remember when you read them once) have been repeated quite close to each other, and in two places the character names have been mixed up. (I had to read the para twice to understand what the author wanted to express!). Good print quality, spaced out words, right font size..... it is easy on the eyes.

Final verdict : A definite one time read. I don't think it will go on the bookshelf as a timeless classic, but it is definitely one that I would lend out to a friend when they are on a long flight; the flight will seem shorter. Expect however, to feel a little disappointed for want of a more reasonable closure.

This review is a part of the Blogadda Indian Bloggers Book Reviews Program at Blogadda. Participate now to get free books!

The Backdoor VIPs

Rural Kerala is discretely chauvinistic. Even the houses. Even modern, upper middle class houses. But these houses only gave the woman of the house much more personal space than other normal houses. Let me explain.

Every home (unless they are the unimaginative new apartments that are mushrooming everywhere!) has a boundary wall (varying from mud mounds lined with the thorny pineapple plants, to imposing structures with spikes and electric lamps) with a gate (again varying from little bamboo strips to iron), which then leads through a pathway into a front door.

The front was a signature for most homes - this was where the man of the house would spend most of his 'thinking' time. Morning teas to after dinner debates were all held at the veranda of the front door. One could often see a worn out easy-chair that usually belonged to the patriarch of the house.

Looking closely at the pathway, one could see another smaller path winding itself towards the back yard of the home. Usually in close proximity with the kitchen or the wash-up area, the back door was a little less glamorous than its pompous brother. If one overlooks this minor superficial point, the back door had much more character - maybe because of the colorful variety of  visitors that door saw through.

In my home, the back door was always open, unlike the front door, which was more anglicised. The front door was of carved wood, with a fancy door knob and an even fancier door bell. Traditionally, all houses in Kerala had open doors. But then, what was the point of keeping a fancy door bell if one did not have to summon someone to open the door? So, the front door evolved into being the 'closed' door, while the back door had sunlight, random noises, and happiness streaming in throughout the day.

After much prodding, my mother relented and allowed a net door to be placed, which could be closed without interrupting the senses. This also meant a stop to the stray visitors who flew in along with the sun - little sparrows looking for the rice that managed to sneak out along with the husk while Mom had sifted the two; or little lost squirrels who suddenly discovered that the floor was a lot cooler than the one outside.

But other visitors were not dissuaded by the net door - my Mother's "VIP"s (as we all liked to call them). The old lady servant who had, in her better years, bathed, powdered, kohl-ed and trudged the little kids of the household to a school many kilometers away; the neighbour's mother who did not hear too well anymore; the slightly deranged schoolteacher who was once a freedom fighter, but was hazy on the difference between fantasy and reality; and many more such interesting old folks - the ones who have the time to pause and admire the drawing of a child; or the ones who have the time to sit and tell you fascinating stories of kings and queens.

Every day, there would be one or more of these visitors. They came just to chat sometimes; or just to have a cup of tea served to them with a smile. They came because they saw in Mom, a connection to the good days they had witnessed; or maybe because they were hungry and wanted a few bites without seeing a frown. As young children, we were fascinated, sometimes scared, and yet sometimes, entertained, by Mom's VIPs. This then changed to irritation at the perceived loss of privacy, and then to just plain indifference.

As we moved on in life, we saw them only once in a few months, and then heard news of them moving on to a different world, one which, in all probability, would treat them much better than this one did.

Why do I write about them today? I don't know. Maybe I seek pardon for having been irritable and indifferent to people who really did care without a reason. Maybe I realize that life does mean all about little pleasures - like the sparrows and the squirrels who mistook the back door balcony for their homes....

Of little lessons from great people .............

"Because my Miss told me....." my nine year old whines when I ask her why she did something different from what I had asked her to do. The first time, it did come as a shock that she would take someone else's word against mine, but then I took a ride down memory lane, and discovered I was no different!

I realize now that I have been very fortunate with the kind of people that the Almighty has scattered all over my life, at various stages. This is an attempt to dig into memory and try to thank those 'teachers' I've had in my life.

• The nurturer : My first day at formal school was in Dubai Indian High - a huge campus, with hundreds of classes, and thousands of students. My parents were paranoid, my mom was ready to cry at the drop of a hat, and I was equipped with brand new paraphernalia - all pink! Mrs. Simon, my class teacher for nursery and prep, was the sweetest little lady I had seen (as a 4 year old, that is) and she had a soothing tone to her voice, which put all my separation anxiety to rest. I was the topper in her class for two consecutive years - a performance which never repeated itself! She instilled the love of words and letters and crayons in me - Ma'am, thank you!
• The tough coach : My sports coach, Mrs. Omana  - who made sure I didn't give up too early, and made sure I walked away when it was time to do so. All the basketball matches, the throwball matches and the badminton matches that she stood by me, in the hot sun, was the only reason I went on to become a house captain in the later years of my life. But the most important lesson I learnt was to be a team player. I was coaxed, warned, punished and rewarded to instill this life skill - thank you Ma'am.
• The passionate artist: In middle school, habits are formed that change the way your life takes course. Kalpana Ma'am, who came by as my English teacher in the fifth, changed the way I looked at books, the way I approached stage fright, and started a saga of prizes for debates, extempores and poetry recitals that followed me all through high school. She would sit after class to get the right emotions into my recital - for many days, she would even call up Dad to let me stay longer. After this, I've always had, in every class I studied, someone who stacked books into my arms and forced me to read - this, I realize, is the only reason I am able to write what I do today. Prameela Ma'am, Rasika Ma'am..... thank you!
• The mother figure : While struggling with a tragedy that affected my sister and me, Vasanthi Ma'am took us under her wing - like a mother hen. She never had a frown, never an impatient glance at the clock, never an irritated sound when I approached her with all the rebelliousness of a teen, and the grace of a hippo. A few years later, when my sister faced difficulties she stepped up and became a mentor to her as well. Thank you Ma'am!
• The stern administrator : The principal of my high school is a lady of steel. She was the disciplinarian, and the very mention of her office made the worst of us behave. Yet, it was her that prodded me to work harder, push myself further - and a word of praise from her made my day! Thank you Sugeetha Ma'am!

The college mentors : I would rather call the faculty in college mentors, as they were more than just faculty - they sorted out so much of our confused minds, that in the span of 3 years, we were ready to take on the world. While there were so many faculty members who contributed to our lives, a quick mention of some here:

• Mr. Prakash : Its tough being a disciplinarian. I realize that now, when I need to manage a team, and of course, manage my kids. Its tougher being a disciplinarian to a bunch of hormone crazed morons, who think they are adults. Its even tougher when you are also responsible for their careers - and he did it with aplomb. Whether it has to do with punctuality, or grooming, or attitude - he preferred to take on the tag of the 'bad guy' instead of going soft on us. Sir - thank you!
• Mr. Ranjit Pillai : While preferring to take the back stage whenever there is any limelight, this person was, in my life (and many others who had him as a guide) a troubleshooter. Each time we were in trouble (and believe me when I say life or death situation) it was Mr.Pillai who swooped in with firm words and even firmer resolution to get us straightened out. Sir, thank you for all the trust you showed in us - even when we were complete idiots! 
• Jolly Ma'am : ........Sigh!!!!!! That's the reaction you'll get from anyone she's taught. She was endearingly tough (am sure she still evokes shivers from the students now), and had taught us what "elbow grease" was all about! Eye for detail, and perfection in the smallest of task - these were essential skills that helped us advance in our careers - Thank you Ma'am.
• Mr. Ivan Thomas : Organized, calm, witty and with a keen sense of responsibility towards the kitchen - that's Chef Ivan. We've been punished zillions of times (scrubbed the kitchen a million times myself), but the entire experience only left us happier and satisfied with a sparkling kitchen  -  how did you manage that Sir? His witty one liners are still told and retold in every get together. Thank you Chef!
• Nirmala Ma'am : Yet another language specialist - the one who initiated the writing bug in me - my first (failed) attempt at managing hurt sentiments after an article saw me running to her for cover. And of course, how can we forget the French -Merci beaucoup Ma'am!

To all my inspirations : Happy Teachers Day .... and thank you for all that you've done for us!

The Verdict

For those of you who have read my post on the Customer Service fiasco recently (which was also a Tangy Teusday pick by Blogadda), this post is an update on the same.

I had not mentioned the resort details in the last one. Read this to find out more details.

Happy reading!

Of parties and guests ...........

I had promised to the comments in an earlier post, that I'd get the most awesome party planner (who happens to be my little sister) to write a guest post in this blog. Its finally here, after some major arm-twisting and serial-level emotional blackmailing. Do let us know what you think! 

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I don't blog. I am a mom. I have a 7 year old and a 7 month old. So if I foresee 5 minutes of silence, I'd sip a cup of coffee or maybe read the newspaper, or paint my nails  (sigh! The list is endless).


The only blogs I am able to follow belong to my sister and best friend. (Ok, ok.... I get browbeaten into following them too!). This post is the result of a sleep deprived promise that I made to a sister who was equally sleep deprived, on a guest post. So here goes....

My love to entertain is a result of years of gaping and gawking at some specially talented friends who took throwing parties to the next level. And then having sister who used to be a hotelier made it so much easier.

Planning an evening with a house full of guests and a mouthwatering menu be quite intimidating. Ofcourse, it usually ends up being a fun evening (for everyone else. For me, it is nothing short of a 1000 meter sprint followed by a round of kick boxing!).

Here, I have some tips which I learnt the hard way, and may be quite useful to save you quite a bit of trouble.

• I usually start off with a TO-DO list weeks (or months, if its a surprise) before
• I make 2 lists. One for me and and one my better half. (Yes, I am Hitler's first cousin) That way I don't nag him randomly for weeks. All I need to do is give subtle but frequent hints on 'the list'. He knows what his role is, and things get done on time. (Which means his TO-Do list would have date / time /store name and  ..maybe even directions :D )
• The first and most important thing in the list is the When/Where/Who list. This will also tell you whether your guest list needs to be trimmed down based on space availability.
• Once you get that figured out, start with the invitations. Personally, I prefer taking the trouble to pick up the phone and call. Though its takes up your time, it is much easier and you will most likely get an immediate response. But then if you are inviting those busy friends who spend their life in conference rooms (or the ones who are easier to get on their smart phones ..... try evite)
• After you get a rough idea about the headcount THEN you plan the menu.
• Make realistic decisions on how much you can manage on your own. If its a surprise for your dear ones, I would definitely consider preparing a few of his/her favourite dishes on my own. And maybe order out the rest.
• Ofcourse, the food and drinks menu is a very important part of a party and it all depends on the occasion and who are the invitees and their preferences.
• If drinks are being served I prefer having lots of appetizers / snacks and a simple dinner menu. End it with a heavy, sinful dessert - people remember desserts more than any other course of the meal. (More on menu planning on later a later post, when I get another threatening call from dear sis again)
• A fizzy mocktail punch served in plastic glasses for kids keeps them away from the 'adult' drinks. This is why I love the Internet.You get all kinds of recipes and ideas for fruit punches. Add a splash of vodka and grenadine into it for the ladies and voila! you have a mini cocktail party going. (Men, it is observed, don't need too much prodding to discover and deplete the bar counter, so just make sure you have enough stock of various brands, ice, glasses and you're done)
• So anyway, once you have decided the menu (which would include starters, drinks, dinner and dessert), start a few days ahead and take an inventory of what you have and what you need.
• Shop for things like paper cups, plates, spoons, napkins, toothpicks, cocktail sticks etc. (anything that has a long shelf life) well ahead of time.
• Decide on what Serving bowls and cutlery you will use and whether you have adequate numbers. (Borrow instead of buying, in case you fall short - you obviously won't be doing this madness often! )
• Write down dates on your TO-DO list for the grocery shopping, cleaning up the house, pulling out hand towels, bed covers, cushion covers, tablecloth etc. (Rule : Don't wait for a golden jubilee to flaunt all that stuff you've been hoarding - these days there are stain removal processes that can restore beauty back into that gorgeous silk bed cover, if the kids stain it with chocolate!)
• A day before the party, move furniture around and set it keeping in mind the seating requirements, the room for guests to roam, the bar area etc.
• Don't forget to keep an eye on your spouse's to-do list too ..See how that's getting along. (This is about the time you can start nagging)
• A mini snack area for the kids a little away from the adults table is a life saver. Preferably a rug thrown into a safe corner, with board games, music and loads of finger foods. If all kids are of approximately the same age, a good cartoon movie and popcorn would be a splendid idea.
• The day before the party is also the best time to decide what each member of the family will wear. (Yes, you have to do that as well!)
• On the day of the big bash, get rid of the kids  before you start (While I sometimes am tempted to take that literally, please don't quote me if you do so!)  I mean, for a few hours let grandparents do the spoiling or maybe a friend who wouldn't mind having them over.
• Try to finish the cooking and cleaning at least 3 hours before the party. This gives you sometime to relax and dress up. (Just because you spent last night scrubbing the bathroom floor does not mean you ought to look that way!) This also ensures that your house won't smell like a restaurant when the guests walk in.
• And get your kids back (yeah! I know - that's the part that makes me cringe too) and get 'em showered and dressed ..... unless you've packed their party wear along with them.
• Don't forget to charge the camera batteries and delegate the pictures portfolio to a friend (Your spouse, in all probability, will be rushing out to complete something in the list the got missed out). Chances are you will forget all about picture in the mad rush.
• In the very end, set up the bar, put out some of the ready snacks like peanuts, wafers, vegetable batons, papad etc. (this will buy you some time to serve the hot appetizers), light those vanilla-cinnamon candles you have been saving for that special occasion, some fresh flowers in strategic locations, and some light music (you can play the dhinka-chika later, when everyone is drunk)..
• This would also be a good time to have that pep talk with your kids about some ground rules and how to behave when the guests arrive.
• Once that's checked off your list, pour yourself a glass of wine / cup of coffee. Put your feet up and Smile - you my friend, are about to be showered with lavish compliments!

Vacation fit for God?

Well, it all started with this competition by Indiblogger, and seeing that I've not been to any other country (Dubai doesn't count - it's an extension of Kerala anyway!), this seemed to be the right opportunity for me to venture out. All I needed to do was win this competition on Indiblogger, which has like, oh..... maybe a thousand fantastic bloggers...... Piece of cake!!

(A word of advise to the readers : There are awesome links all through the post, which helped me in my research. Do visit these links - they are really helpful if anyone is planning a trip to Melbourne)

God and I sometimes have conversations when the rest of the world is snoring into oblivion. God, incidentally, is my mentor in cynicism and irony.

(Yeah!Yeah! I know You're Omnipotent and all that - But lets tell these good people how You and I reached that deal, shall we? Just so that they don't waste their time competing for the prize!)

So anyway, I reminded God how good I've been lately, and how badly I needed God to make exceptions to 'thou shalt not be greedy'! I did a lot of research at the official Melbourne website, and the resultant conversation went something like this:

Me : God, now that we've known each other for over three decades, don't You think it's time I got my friendship day present?

God : You've been spending too much time at Archie's gift shops haven't you? Anyway, what is it that you wish for?

Me : I want to go to Melbourne....... No, actually, I want to win this competition..... No, actually, I want to visit all these lovely places in Melbourne, after winning the competition that will take me there.

(There! that should take care of the 'watch what you wish for - it just might come true' fallacy)

God (trying to keep a straight face) : Win? The way you write? That really is pushing it too far, my child. Anyway, why Melbourne?

Me (gushing for required effect) : You know how much I love adventure, right, God?

God (with a patient look in Those benevolent eyes) : Yes, my child, I know. I am still trying to forget every high pitched "Oh Gaaaaaawd - saaaaave me!" each time you landed into one of those 'adventures'. It sure didn't look like you were enjoying yourself back then!

Me : Err.........Ofcourse I was enjoying it! That's how you're supposed to yell when you fall a few feet from a roller coaster! Any way, back to Melbourne. Did You know there's loads of adventure to do there? There's Sky diving.... and car racing .....

God :  I would have thought you'd done enough car racing on Delhi roads - I don't think I can handle more swear words than that!

Me (pretending to ignore the divine voice) : .... and even battle tank riding!! Can you beat that?

God : My child, surely, with all the lovely food I put on your table, even your walk to the car must seem like battle tank riding to you.... (I told you God was my mentor!)

Me : Not fair - I am on a diet, you know! Anyway, speaking of which - there are awesome celebrity chef restaurants in Melbourne - the kinds that serves Masterchef Australia kinda food! And all kinds of international cuisine too (I've always wondered how Vietnamese food tastes, or Spanish for that matter!!) - not to mention pubs!

God : (suppressing a laugh) Yes, child. I have seen you drooling all over the carpet watching Masterchef Australia, and I am aware of the nocturnal effect pubs have on you!

Me : Err..... no, God - I didn't exactly mean I'd spend all my time eating and drinking. And its such a safe place for nightlife too - You of all, know how important that is for a woman these days! Wait - there's so much more!!  Can you imagine floating past the beautiful Melbourne city in a hot air balloon? Hundreds of feet above..... sigh!! And a glass of Australian wine, and a guy proposing to you with a solitaire ring...... sigh!!!

God : Ahem! This is still about Melbourne, is it not? If this is another request for the right guy, let me tell you this conversation is over.

Me: Err..... ofcourse God -  Melbourne is sports crazed, right? And so am I!

God (with one divine Eyebrow raised quizzically) : Which sport, if I may ask, do you play? For I seem to only see you having a go at the X-box in your routine of tardiness!

Me : Whoa! Who said anything about playing?  I watch cricket, and football (or footy, as they would call it in Melbourne) and the stadiums are to die for!! Definitely beats having to watch a match on TV! Also, there are these awesome speed boats, on which I'd like to whizz past the Port Phillip Bay.

God : Hmmm....Port Phillip seems a nice place - actually the kind of place I would head to, if I didn't have to listen to people like you all the time!

Me (seeing a ray of hope) : Yes, absolutely God! It has over 1,950 square kilometres, and is quite comparable to Your abode. I mean, there's fishing, sailing, speed boats, kayaking and snorkeling. And for a change, all of it is clean, with a self-sustaining eco system.  You know how much I admire Your creativity, God. And there is so much beauty in all that marine life in Port Phillip ..... You really are a genius you know!! ...... err......So how about that competition? Am I winning it?

God : Not so fast, you sweet talker! What else are you planning to do there?

Me : I would also love to see the penguins at Phillip Island, which is just 2 hours away from Melbourne (I promise I won't smuggle any back home!).  Or even better..... maybe a moonlit walk through the bountiful natural beauty of a wildlife sanctuary You have so lovingly created in Melbourne.........

God (Smiling with such deep knowledge): So you really thought I'm going to push a few buttons and make you win this competition? You really thought it's your time to visit Melbourne NOW, didn't you?

Well, tough luck, my child........ You see, I am due for a vacation, and I'll let you know all about it when I'm back from Melbourne......... we'll have a little chat - Woman to woman! Be good till then!