Chronicles of Naveen the Chocoholic

If my name didn’t mean “unique/new” it would most certainly have meant chocoholic. All my life I have consumed chocolate in some shape or form every day or at least every other day –  I mean chocolate in all forms: chocolate bars, chocolate cake, hot chocolate, cold chocolate milk, chocolate mocha, chocolate ice cream, M&M’s and the biggest culprit – Nutella. Confession time! I can easily consume jars and jars of Nutella within a week’s time. It’s an addiction no different than smoking or drinking. I have looked up solutions online including chocolate patches and mental therapeutic techniques. Nothing worked. In fairness, I only read up on them and was most likely consuming chocolate while I read them so they didn’t resonate. So here’s my resolution for 2015: Project Fuck You Chocolate!

I went cold turkey on chocolate just over a week ago. The first few days were torture and all I could do was think of chocolate. Do you know how hard it is to leave behind a full cup of delicious warme Chocomel - Dutch hot chocolate - at a waterfront restaurant and walk away? (my niece changed her mind after ordering it) The old Naveen would NEVER let that happen.

On Day 4, I found myself at a lovely English style café in the city of Nijmegen. I asked the waiter for the wireless password. It was “Chocolate”. The universe was testing me.

I also received a Christmas present during my first week – an adorable ice cream glass bowl and spoon set which was intended for chocolate ice cream no doubt. Sigh.

On Day 6 I was feeling confident that I may have tricked my pallet into believing it no longer craved chocolate.

Today in my second week of going cold turkey, chocolate is very much on my mind again. All the Nutella jars of the world are judging me. Sadly, as with any addict, the word ‘moderation’ does not exist in my vocabulary. Having a little taste means falling off the wagon and so I shall continue to take it a minute, an hour and a day at a time until three decades of chocolate love are behind me.

A tribute to friendships

Friendships are complex creatures. They’re the most precious equations we share having handpicked and nurtured them at will.

They offer escape and companionship. There’s nothing better than sharing a laugh or remembering old times with a good friend. They break barriers and provide validation and free therapy. They exist as prevalently online as they do offline. Yes, a Facebook ‘like’ and mutually shared emoticons constitute a friendship today. It can be that easy to sustain a friendship.

On the other hand they are fragile and impressionable as we cruise through life at difference paces and mostly opposite paths.

They are expected to survive anything and everything at any given moment: living together, working together, sharing similar dreams, taking a life partner, starting our own families, sharing mutual friends, long distance - the dynamic is constantly changing.

They inevitably play second fiddle to romantic relationships and family yet are expected to withstand the tide of time, loyal and forgiving.

They are forever compared to friendships of yesteryears despite breathing and existing in a dramatically different social landscape.

Unlike relationships, there aren't enough fish in the sea. I wouldn't say that quality friendships are a dying breed but they’re definitely a scare resource.

To call or not to call

I can't remember the last time I picked up the phone to call someone to have a chat for the sake of having a chat (immediate family excluded) . It's not that I don't care or that I can't spare a moment - I'm just not a phone person.

Gone are the days when I rushed home from school to call the same friends I had just spent all day with, or called a friend after a week of lectures and workshops at university. What also seems like an distant memory are Skype calls with fellow intern friends.

I realize more and more that this is a counter effect of having been a Londoner making it on my own for almost 5 years. Crammed London Underground, packed stations and tourists galore, I feasted on the silence of my home. I don't know if I'm turning into a recluse yet as I thoroughly enjoy the company of loved ones, but just the thought of putting a phone against my ear after a busy and tiring day exhausts me.

Then there's small talk. I'm not a fan. Some people can indulge in small talk and random chatter for hours on end. Who has the time?!

That brings me to Whatsapp. I love Whatsapp. It gives me a socially acceptable platform to connect and make plans to socialize without subjecting me to tiresome small talk. I fully appreciate we call each other with every good intention and I do enjoy a good 'quality' phone catch up every now and again but it seems my ears have a lower threshold than most:)

Of course if Hugh Jackman were to call asking for me, you know nothing.

Toilet paper - yes, toilet paper! Read on.

I haven’t blogged in a while and it’s mostly because 1. Nothing provoked me enough to write about that wouldn’t offend and 2. I couldn’t be arsed. However, that moment finally came.

On a regular Monday afternoon …

Someone questioned prayer rooms in the workplace implying they could be better used as storage rooms. I replied that actually it’s quite normal to have prayer rooms in the workplace especially in countries with a considerable Muslim population.

This lead to a very brief but highly surprising  conversation. It went something like this. "Did you know people don’t use toilet paper in Muslim countries?" My instant reaction (in my I’m-not-really-religious-but-you-just-offended-me defensive tone) was that Muslims are in fact freakishly clean when it comes to “that area” and always use water AND toilet paper thank you very much. I added that if one were to visit any Muslim country, both facilities would be available starting at the airport.

To my what I thought was a compelling argument, the response was “Apparently the really fanatic fundamental Muslims don’t use toilet paper and keep a jug with them”, hand gesturing an invisible jug. (Meanwhile I am LAUGHING at the absurdness of this conversation in my head) They went on to add “It’s probably just in villages”.

In just a few seconds this usually perfectly lovely person had without realising demonstrated a completely inward and uninformed view of the world and reminded me that even the most brilliant and compassionate can be utterly ignorant.

On the other side of the world ... 

Some Muslims are having a conversation about how dirty "white people" are for using ONLY toilet paper in the bathroom. 

Friends of friends

Should you be friends with your friends' friends?

I decided to blog about this as it’s something we encounter on a regular basis and a situation we are guaranteed to find ourselves in at some point or another.

I have met the most wonderful people through my friends – either by introduction or by chance. I have also consciously introduced friends to other friends where I felt they shared common interests (besides myself).

A friend once told me "I don’t do friends of friends". I can understand this thought. I can also imagine the downside of this - the friends you introduced with every good intention forget about you and solidify their friendship without you. This happens, yes. Is anyone to blame? If one thinks about this rationally, no. The heart wants what it wants. Just as connection between two people cannot be forced, it cannot be broken if it wasn’t weak to begin with.

The way I see it, when you share a common circle of friends, it brings you closer. It offers different opportunities to socialise. It brings a different dynamic to your existing equation. And it can come in handy. It isn't uncommon to find yourself caught between two friends who are having differences or drifting apart. This is where a mutual friends situation helps. March in and try to make them talk. No one knows both of them better than you after all.

Similarly, I have always felt (either as a credit to my cultural background or my nature) that a friendship is not complete without some family involvement. I have to know my closest friends’ family members. Their parents and siblings have to know me – and like me;)

A friend’s parent once told me "when you are with *said friend* I know she has a bullet proof vest on her". It’s the most beautiful thing anyone else’s parent has said to me. That and "you’re like my daughter as well".

Of course if our parents knew each other even better, but as this isn't a Bollywood drama I’ll let this one slide.

I feel privileged to have such wonderful friends that others who have heard of them or met them by chance ask me to invite them over or want me to tell them to host a party where they can invite themselves.

The only reservation I have is when the whole friends of friends concept isn't reciprocated. We have all invested in our friendships and a little bit of possessiveness is allowed. I'll show you mine if you show me yours;)

Lessons 2012

Another year's almost gone by since I shared one of these blogs. But I figured since we can never be too old or wise to know it all (unless you're a candidate on The Apprentice), it's time to share my lessons learned in 2012.

1. You’re closer to your religion than you think you are. Even if you were just born into it, when an anti-whatever-your-religion-is shares racial views about it with you, insulting and disrespecting what’s an inherent part of you, trust me, you’ll stand up for that very religion and put the f***ing racist in their place.
2. No one wants to hear you comment on their life. You may have shared your opinion with only the best of intentions but if you value maintaining relationships (personal and professional), keep your mouth shut. 
3. Only family is family. We often use the description ‘we’re like family’ in vain. Sooner or later a situation will present itself where it will become painfully clear that you are not family. There’s nothing wrong with that either. Just don’t distort the very fine line.
4. Never underestimate the power of communication. You’ll be amazed what honest communication can do. How often have you really had the reaction you expected? If something’s bothering you, talk it out, get over it and move on. Immaturity and pettiness make us very unattractive.
5. Give it time. Things have a way of working themselves out. Phew!
6. Travel. Scheduling in a trip with the girls every year is the one thing I’ll happily plan for months in advance.
7. Befriend the gym. Feeling fitter will give you that extra bounce in your step all day long! Plus, kicking the shit out of a punching bag can't hurt anyone;)
8. Don’t be afraid to be single. You can use it to your advantage and have the best time of your life. It’ll allow you to concentrate on yourself and start loving your own company. As a famous Bollywood movie line says, "mein apni favourite houn" i.e. I am my favourite
9. Get smart. As long as women have tongues they will talk. Be particularly aware of the ones who claim they don’t indulge in idle bitching. They move slowly and quietly, but they are the most insecure and cannot handle your glow. As a wise friend told me, “stay happy - a smile on your face will burn them the most”.
10. Do your best. It's the only thing that's in your control. 

As I approach 29 (yikes!), I’m acutely aware of the changes I find within myself since I entered my 20’s. After you read this, think about your own evolution. This is me.

• My behaviour is not the same – I’m not a prissy girl anymore. I can hang with the boys!
• My language is not the same – I now swear.
• My dreams are not the same. I live in the real world.
• My plans are not the same. I stay clear of diaries and don’t fear the unknown.
• My lifestyle has evolved. I’m a hurried Londoner now.
• My intolerance to certain human behaviour has changed. I refuse to play along with pettiness, immaturity and cowardness.
• My beliefs remain the same. They’re going in the grave with me.
• My family values remain. No one messes with my blood

The Big A

“Sorry I was so busy”

“I was JUST about to call you”

“I never got the message. You sure your phone’s working?”

“I forgot my phone at work”

“I didn’t realise it was on silent”

“I don’t check my emails during the week”

 "But I have been in touch. I liked your picture on FB”

We are ALL guilty of having said one or a combination of the above at some point or the other. We can also not pretend that we have been told these white lies by someone we fancy or even worse – someone we’re close to. So why do we do it?

I’m going to sum up my take on this in one word – Accountability.

The urgency with which we respond to someone is in equal proportion to how accountable we feel towards them. Are we close enough and therefore accountable enough towards each other to put together a one-word text, one-sentence email or make thirty-second call? 

Are we really that oblivious to others’ emotions and expectations? 

Are we so self-involved that we can’t make time for each other? 

Or are we really that petty that we feel the need to play games?

The simplest way to resolve any of these unanswered questions is to increase our level of accountability towards people, not just when we have to (as in the case of juniors to managers and tenants to landlords), but because it's the decent thing to do - the adult thing to do. 

But then again, would this make us appear less interesting, kill the spark, and raise our expectations ever further? 

10 Things I Love/Hate About Karachi

10 things I love about Karachi

1. The food. Oh the food. Best food in the world!

2. The people's love and affection.

3. The hustle and bustle - the city never sleeps and makes me feel alive.

4. The warmth. It's good to give my body and muscles a break from tensing in Holland/London's chill.

5. The immediacy of labour. A shoe needs mending? Done. A pipe's burst and needs replacing? Done. The TV's conked out and needs fixing? Done. All within hours and no appointments needed. Oh, and I'm still richer than the guy fixing my stuff. It's just not fair that the dude with unwashed hair, minimal education and a hairy asscrack earns more than I do.

6. Karachi has a culture of giving and sharing. Just as well. Sharing that rich chocolate cake with chocolate mousse on top and a scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side amongst 5 last night was a fair distribution of fat I'd say.

7. The help. Anybody lower middle class and above can afford a driver, a cleaner, a cook, a gardener, a security guard, a nanny etc.

8. Air conditioning. Ah the cooling amazingness of walking into an air conditioned room after being in 40-degree heat.

9. Discovering new restaurants. Every time I visit there are a handful of brand new restaurants serving ridiculously priced heavenly cuisine and desserts.

10. VCD's - DVD's at special rates;)

10 things I dislike (I try to avoid using the word 'hate')

1. Food poisoning and an upset stomach on every single trip.

2. The people's mentality when it comes to different rules for men and women.

3. The constant honking of cars. A car cannot move any further at a red light no matter how many times you honk, IDIOT.

4. The heat. I'd like to not melt away and sweat like a pig while drying myself off after a shower please.

5. I can't be myself 100%. Nodding 'ji' (yes) constantly as a sign of respect is very exhausting. I can't swear. I can't be silly. I can't share complete details of my choices because of the hypocritical and judgemental culture that surrounds me.

6. Guests can show up at any time and stay as long as they please. Enough said.

7. Religious lectures by aunties and uncles. The other day I actually heard 'If a man's not Muslim he's nothing'. This notion pretty much disqualifies 90% of my friends and .. closer friends;)

8. The obsession with brands and clothes. Lets talk about our jobs, ambitions and travels shall we?

9. Limited independence. I can't just hop onto a bus and take off. I can't refuse a dinner invitation from a family member's colleague's wife's sister without insulting them beyond repair.

10. I dislike that I'm not attracted to my own kind though some are in fact tall, handsome, successful, family oriented, fun etc. Maybe one day?

Karachi - Home before Home

It's great to be visiting my home before home once again. Imagine this - dry heat, constant noise of honking buses, the familiar music of an ice cream truck (it's been the same since 20 years), policemen pulling over and fining helpless motorists to fulfil their own greed, handicapped beggers, impressive shopping malls and restaurants replicating the West, an uncessary public investment called Port Fountain off Karachi Harbour and an unexplainable obsession with high-end clothes. As an Englishman recently described Karachi, it was the only city he'd been to that made NO SENSE.

For example, just a few days before I landed there was a politically inspired strike in the city which typically means burning buses, some dealths (I deliberately write 'some' as numbers are insignificant unless of course these casualties occur in the United States), political unrest and the city shutting down. Luckily I arrived in the calm after the storm. It was as if nothing ever happened. As they say, life goes on. My trip in November 2010 has made me slighly paranoid but then again, a bomb blast tends to shake up the best of us.

On a brighter note, it's such a refreshing and much needed break in a country where people 'care'. The level of interest people have shown in my job, my living arrangements, my parents, my sister's kids, my health - it's SO nice. And I'm taken aback by the collectivism of it all. When you visit someone in Paksitan, the entire family will walk you to the door to say goodbye, from the elders to the servants. You will never be left stranded. There is always someone who will pick/drop you. An hour is never too long to travel. It's not even considered an effort. In London God forbid if you're not living in the same zone you can forget about having a social life. Any excuse is valid from congestion charges to high petrol costs and tube strikes. People will sooner advise you to 'move' so that they can see you than get on a bloody tube and hawl their ass to you. Ok getting sidetracked - this will be a whole other blog.

Karachi reflections TBC. Back to the tea which was served to me and the delicious sandwich that was made from me. I'm not spoiled here, really;)