Posted in Bereavement

Hi Kelly – Just the weekend goss

Heard from Rog that you’ve left. We just met last Thursday, as usual our volubility flowed through that day too. But not a word uttered about this final parting.

Anyway, from where we left off on Thursday…

Arj did come for the weekend and he left on Sunday. It was so good to have at least one of them back. Hari’s got a promotion. Trent’s medicals are looking good, at least for the moment we can take a breather.

BTW, I heard Olly and Sarah are back in town. Why did you rush off before they arrived? I thought you and I were an open book. Never knew your story had a hidden chapter. I wasn’t prepared for this anticlimax, Kelly. Why, how I am still searching for answers.

We had to postpone our wedding anniversary luncheon as Ganesh had to work that Sunday. Plans are for this coming Sunday. After what you’ve done, I am not sure about plans. I am just going to take one day at a time. But if all goes to plan and we go to the Barossa, I will check out the Gin Distillery as you suggested. I may raise a glass for you Kelly.

But you know what Kelly, I would rather clink that glass at our next Christmas dinner or when you finally come to my house for that Sri Lankan feed. Why would you just up and leave. I wasn’t ready. I am still not ready.

Kelly, I know for anyone who has watched us talk – oh boy could we both talk and talk –they would think surely there’s nothing more to say. But Kelly, I have so much more.

I almost forgot, so on the weekend when Arj was here, the little tyke roped me into riding the motorbike with Ganesh. I know crazy right. No, no photographs thankfully. I wish I could relate this story face to face and have a hearty laugh. I was dying to tell you this yarn. Sorry, Kelly no pun intended. I thought that was pretty funny, but why am I crying instead of laughing. Is it because the jokes on me?

Do you remember giving me a book called “Penguin Bloom”? It came handy when I broke my shoulder and had to endure a year of rehab. Just recently Ganesh and I came across the movie on Netflix, yeah, the big boy cried too. Thank you for the book.

Is it time for me to start thanking you for everything? It will take me a life time to list everything. But here’s a shortlist. Nah sorry there is more to tell, I will get back to the thank you’s later on another day… when I am ready, when I have talked enough.

Another week has passed already.

So, I have more goss from last weekend.  Ganesh and I made it to Casa Caboni on Sunday. I think you and Bill would have loved this place too. Food was just amazing so was the whole experience.

On the way to Casa Carboni, we did stop by the Seppeltsfield Gin Distillery as per your suggestion. Awesome find. We did a tasting and raised that glass for you. Wish I could show you the photos and the rest of the goss.

Heard from Rog that we are bidding goodbye to you on Monday. Oh Kelly, I am going to miss you so much. I am not sure if Roger and Pete are up to the challenge. They’ve got some big shoes to fill. They need to first start with my new shoes and then my new haircut, the new top, no that may be a stretch. Will there be any more cannoli? Maybe… but will it be the same without you and your infectious laugh? Will it be the same without you saying that I look gorgeous?

I am supposed to be wishing you a big RIP. But I am so pissed off. I have a long list of candidates who could fill up the coffins, why you? We need angels like you in this miserable world, to make it bearable, why were you taken?

Let me cry today and leave you to rest another day. I will accept it one day, but sorry not today.

It was your big send off today. The party hall was packed to the brim. It was a send off fit for the queen. Sarah sang so well, the brave girl held it together and didn’t miss a single note. She did good Kelly. Your boys Olly and Tim did so well, they spoke from their heart. Omg Tim brought the house down with his narration of getting caught to mum – “having a fun time with his girlfriend”. What a story… I can just picture the events. I wish I had done the same to Arj😊. Olly moved me to tears. That man Bill loves you to death Kell, He is going to be lost for some time. I hope he has some good mates to pull him through. Else he may have to reach out to the Sri Lankan connections for some food and company. I might actually do that, invite him and Rog for some Lankan tucker. Kicking myself for not inviting you in time for that Sri Lankan hopper feed. Mum and dad held it together as much as possible. Poor Tracy and Matt, were doing their best to keep it together but you can tell that they were distraught. Rog had done a fab job with everything graphic designing. And his speech was beautiful. Met Stevie for the first time. Poor girl has lost another mother. Not just the immediate family but the rest of the 400 attendees were all struggling to keep it together.

And that’s because you treated everyone as family.

Kelly, you had touched so many souls and today you had broken too many hearts.

Thank you Kell for getting the cannoli and other knickknacks. Making it special each time I came over to work. Yes, I come over to work and you make it as if I’ve come for a coffee date. Thank you for all the flowers and support each time I end up in hospital. Thank you for inviting me and Ganesh for the office Christmas parties even though I am not exactly a staffer. Thank you for all the thoughtful gifts.

Thank you Kell for your friendship. Thank you Kell for your genuine love and care. I am going to miss you like crazy. But I think it’s time I let you rest in peace. So Long Kell. You were one class act.

Posted in love, marriage, True Story, Inspirational

An Officer and a Gentleman – Remake

Disclaimer: The following narration is my own assumptions and thinking. It may be quite far from the truth and facts.

Douglas Day Stewart an American Screenwriter and film director was well known for his rather risqué romantic movies. Who could be more romantic and risqué than a bunch of Naval officers. So I believe the birth of “An officer and a Gentleman” starring Richard Gere was with the notion of making a Romcom that was going to be a hit at the box office.  The said budget for the movie as per Wikipedia was 6-7 million and the movie then went on to rack up 190 million at the box office. I would say that was a definite hit for 1982. 

Unknown to Douglas there was a real-life Richard Gere in the making from around 1977. However, he came to his peak in 1985 when he met his real life, Debra Winger. One could say that was when he shined as a true Gentleman.

This real-life production took almost two years and came to fruition on the 19th of Jan 1987

The cast, writing and direction for this production were all just two individuals. They are Ganesh and Uma. 

In the great year of 1985 Chief Officer Nada Ganesan met a young lady by the name of Uma Sivapalan. Let’s call them G and U for the remainder of the narration. He was quite smitten by her natural beauty and grace (facts maybe embellished for the purpose of the story). She was caught off guard by his childlike charm and charisma.

The story line may be very different to that of “An officer and a Gentleman”, But G knew how to melt the heart of U and his moves were not much further of Richard Gere. (Again, the facts may be embellished) Needless to say, U fell head over heels and was totally swept over. Officer G left for the UK to complete his masters and returned two years after with a promotion to his rank. Capt. G makes it formal and weds U.

A few words to Capt. G from his lady U.

Not sure if you remember G, do you know where and when we watched “An officer and a Gentleman”? It was in the bar on “MV Sri Mathi”. I cried my heart out. Over the years I have seen much better movies and much better actors. However, I still have a soft spot for Richard Gere. Well, you know that.

But you know no one can replace the spot that I have for my real-life officer and the gentleman.  Yes, you swept me away then and sometimes even now at most unexpected times.

After 36 years of marriage, after many life lessons and experiences on its way – some pleasant and some unfortunately not so pleasant, the lyrics of the last song on the final scene “up where we belong” becomes more poignant and real.

Parts of the lyrics – the parts that ring true to us – deciphered.

Who knows what tomorrow brings

In a world few hearts survive

All I know is the way I feel

When its real, I keep it alive

Thank you for reviving it time to time

The road is long

There are mountains in our way

But we climb a step every day

(We were faced with so many avalanches and at times it feels like we are climbing Everest, but our love has proven to get stronger with each wind gust)

Time goes by

No time to cry

Life’s you and I

Alive today

(I know I have given you grief with my medical dramas. But that’s me. Don’t you dare to scare me again)

I am almost at the end of my narration. I just realised that I have not once insulted Capt G.  It is as cringeworthy as any romcom.  Maybe ours is that cringeworthy romcom. Sometimes you are my Richard Gere and sometimes my Shrek. Either way I need you by my side to climb this mountain.

We may not have racked up 190 Million, but we are definitely a box office hit.

So, my love let’s keep marching ahead and remembering yesterday

Looking forward to tomorrow

But importantly enjoying today

Loved you then, today and forever

(those who think I have rocks in my head, yes you are not entirely wrong)

Posted in True Story, Inspirational

Breaking Bad… (Part 4)

It’s been many moons since my last post. Just in case you need a recap of this journey or if you are new to my blog, you could click on the below links.

My last post was on the day of my last surgery (hopefully this is it), I was using this space as a means to concur “nil by mouth” especially the massive coffee craving I was having. Suffice to say I concurred the coffee deprivation as well as the surgery.

It is almost an year since the accident. If I think how long it has been it feels daunting. If I think in that one year what I have achieved, how far I have come it feels… Nah, it still feels like a massive waste of an year.

I am all for thinking positive. But it is important to be honest with yourself too. It doesn’t help anyone, especially to yourself to build a fake rainbow. To curl up in the fetal position and to drown yourself in self pity is not the answer but nor is the opposite which is to lie to yourself and say it’s all peachy when you know it is far from it. You need to be realistic, honest and accept what has happened and then, tackle whatever you have been dealt with.

I sound like an expert now. But the truth is far from it. There were many demons I had to battle and I would say a big part of these blog/posts are for that reason. If someone could benefit even an iota, lessons from my thorny path, then, I see that as a positive.

From where I left off …

The ambos arrived, the same two angels in the green uniform from the morning, wonder how long their shift was? In spite of how tired they might have been, they were still absolutely beautiful to me. They assisted me to get over from the hospital bed to the ambulance trolley. The whole day I had lost count how many times I changed from trolley to bed and bed to trolley. On all of these occasions, I insisted that I move over myself, I proudly used my core muscles to lift and push myself and do the transfer myself.

I wasn’t going to give up on me that easily. If you look hard enough there is still something left in the tank.

I learnt that the reason the phone call to the boys were not going through was due to the fact they were in the underground apartment. The phone reception isn’t great underground and only possible in some parts of the apartment and the bedrooms were not one of them. The ambos were willing to swing by the apartment and get the boys to follow us to the airfield. Yes, like I said they were just absolute angels.

We were met with more angels at the airfield. They too were at the end of a very long shift. Still they did not let that interfere with the compassion and professionalism that was required to get me transported. They allowed Arj to accompany us on the flight. Hubby was going to drive down the next day or more like in a few hours after sunrise.

It was going to be an hour and forty five minutes to Adelaide. Sky Rocketing blood pressure and the pain that was now at another level were concerning for all.

To be continued…

Posted in True Story, Inspirational

Breaking Bad… (Part 3)

Yes another call comes from the surgeon.

He asked me if my dislocated shoulder was put back. I explained to him that I did not have a dislocation just that I had a fracture, thinking that he was mixing me up with another patient. I asked when he could fit me in for the surgery, explaining to him about our drive back the next day. He was flabbergasted. He then vehemently started to stress that I had a dislocated shoulder along with an array of other issues. But it appeared his main concern was the dislocation.

The surgeon went on to explain that I had a shoulder dislocation, a fracture and also a bone that had chipped (the bone that had chipped had some tendons ripped off as well). I have always liked the idea of being a triple threat, just didn’t realise that I was going to perform it with my shoulder. The surgeon was still harping on about the dislocation. In my mind I am thinking the fracture should be a bigger concern than a mere dislocation. It shows my lack of medical knowledge or the lack of sports injuries.

He asked why I was not air lifted. I explained that as it was not “life threatening” and that we were advised to drive down the next day. He was livid. He said “it may not be life threatening but it could be life changing”, by now hubby had arrived from the shops and was listening to the surgeons rant. He then went onto explain that the dislocated shoulder has to be put back as soon as its possible. Any delay is a step closer to permanent nerve damage.

There were multiple phone calls that went between the surgeon, the hospital and us. By now it was about 6pm or so. The surgeon advised us that he had spoken to the doctor at Coober Pedy and he didn’t think he was capable of performing this procedure (he said it with a bit more colour and annoyance). He asked us if we could drive to maybe the next bigger Hospital. Which was at Port Augusta. This was still not a short distance, 540kms and a 5.5 hr drive. This road is notorious for it’s Kangaroo related accidents. Not the ideal time to drive and still a very long drive with a patient in the car. Even the surgeon was not keen on this idea, but he just wanted this shoulder back in ASAP. He was worried that it was already been out for too long.

I don’t know who made the next set of phone calls, I think Arj rang the Ambo’s to see if they could transport me to Port Augusta, thinking that might be safer I would be lying down and strapped in rather than in a car. Hubby rang Port Augusta hospital to confirm if they could in fact perform the said procedure. Ambo’s advised Arj that there was just the one ambulance for the whole district and that they would not be able to go that far leaving a whole community without an ambulance. Hubby also found out that Port Augusta too didn’t have a doctor on duty who was capable of doing this procedure. They had given another piece of information which was now ammunition for hubby , that they had a similar patient that morning and the patient was airlifted to Adelaide.

In the midst of all this I messaged Sally my dear friend and a nurse, who I usually use as my insider for medical info. I wanted to check with her if in fact the surgeon was correct in prioritizing the dislocation to the fracture. She agreed with the surgeon, she too now started to stress/panic on the importance of getting out of Coober Pedy. She didn’t want me in the car either. She was on the phone the whole night talking to Arj, giving him advise and info.

Arj and Hubby stormed to the hospital now requesting an air transfer. I was told that Arj’s sentences were measured, with the new information from the surgeon it was more of a threat rather than a request, but delivered with respect. Respectful language however the message was “or else”.

In the meantime the ambo’s took upon themselves and arrived at the apartment. Luckily the front door had been left unlocked, so they were able to just walk in without much hurdle. They found me on the couch with worsened pain. I relayed what happened at the hospital and what we had just heard from the surgeon. They were aghast. By then hubby and Arj got back. We heard from them that this doctor had only been there for less than a week and they’ve had so many complains. They said they were going to take me back to the hospital, as they claimed this to be a “unresolved discharge”. The request for air transfer could only happen from a hospital, so they suggested that we go back to the hospital and start the ball rolling.

I had another green whistle. Arj has some videos that he threatens to release at times. I was definitely in a happy place. I was just disappointed that I didn’t have a better story to tell than to say I fell down a stair, I think I mentioned to the Ambo’s that I fell down a mine shaft with a massive laughter. I also apologized for not having a shower. I don’t think I can divulge in the rest of the conversations, without embarrassing myself. So I shall leave it there.

The doctor looked a bit sheepish. How on earth did he miss a dislocation. No wonder I couldn’t lie or sit back as my the shoulder had collapsed to the front. However sheepish he felt he couldn’t let go of his ego and arrogance. Instead of getting on with what he needs to do, he was now trying to pick a fight with the ambo’s and the nurses.

He agreed for the air transfer and started a ticket. We were told that RFDS (Royal Flying Doctor Services) would pick me up at 12.00 midnight. It was only a few more hours to go so the boys stayed back at the hospital. Green whistle or not the pain was sky rocketing. They administered Morphine. I am usually someone who falls asleep on antihistamine meds. But today even after all these cocktails I was wide awake.

They announced that the plane had been diverted for another emergency and it would be the next morning around 7.00am that I would be transferred. There was nothing much we could do. So I asked the boys to go back to the apartment and have a bit of shut eye.

About 3.00am the nurses advised that another plane that had completed its drop off at Alice Springs would be coming to pick me up at 4.00am. They had tried to contact the boys unfortunately the phone call was not going through. As they were underground, phone coverage was only available in certain spots in the apartment ie the living room. As these two had taken the phones to their rooms the call from the hospital was not going through.

Along with the pain, my blood pressure too was now skyrocketing to dangerous levels.

I have been told that I am pretty good with cliff hangers. So I am going to just leave it there. Sorry folks, I have to get ready for today’s surgery . Thank you in advance for all the prayers and well wishes.

Giving you another video from Bondi Rescue with the Green Whistle


Posted in True Story, Inspirational

Breaking Bad… (Part 2)

We were all rather tired. Life had been rather full on. We were physically and mentally exhausted. I didn’t do much on the long journey other than take photos and agree or disagree on the music choices. I was still tired. So after our Pizza and a premade Coffee Martini for me and I think the boys had a beer we decided to call it a night.

I woke up at 5.00am checked my phone to confirm the time and decided that I needed some water. I didn’t want to disturb my hubby’s melodic snoring so decided to tip toe out the room without switching on the lights. Poor man must be very tired, let him sleep/snore a bit more, he has earned it, I thought. There was a night lamp in the bathroom which was emitting enough light for me to walk out to the living area. I confidently started my journey towards the kitchen.

Two steps out and the whole place fell into complete darkness. The beauty of the underground – no windows, so not an ounce of daylight or starlight to sneak in. It was just pitch black, I had no idea where I was, I was trying to find a wall so I could feel my way for a light switch. I made progress, I found the wall mounted TV. So forged ahead, confident that a switch was going to be at my reach very soon.

Alas, I found the big step before I found the switch. No, I think they were found simultaneously or it could be the switch and a Nano second later the step. Not sure of the order of the events, however the result was the birth of Big Humpty Dumpty in the underground motel of Coober Pedy.

The first thought that came into my head was, that I was going to wake everyone up, including the neighboring apartment. It was a one massive thud. The whole world was still in silence, other than my husband’s snoring. Well his snoring confirmed that he wasn’t going to come rushing anytime soon to help this damsel in distress.

My arm was throbbing. I thought I could walk it off. I got up thinking the pain would settle. No, it was still unbelievably terrible. I do apparently have a good pain tolerance., but this time however, I couldn’t take it anymore. So I went back to the room, woke up my husband. By now the pain was shooting up, I couldn’t sit or lie on the bed, I was trying to explain and sob all at the same time.

Arj had woken up for all the commotion and rushed in. Arj and Hubby brought me back to the living room and sat me on the couch. I think there was a glass of water or something. But Arj realised that this was something more than just a bruise. He called for the ambulance.

Two Ambo’s (ambulance officers – Aussie) arrived promptly. They could tell straightaway that I had done something major and I was in agony. They were my two Fairies (if fairies could be males). Instead of the magic wand they were waving the green whistle at me. For those who haven’t had the pleasure of having one of these – it is Penthrax a very strong pain relief. Until now I have only seen them on Bondi Rescue.

The above video might give you an idea on this amazing Aussie invention. I had the green whistle on the way to the hospital, by the time I arrived at the hospital I was in ripe old stage. I was still in a world of pain but I was way more funnier.

This was when I met Doctor Inefficient. This is a small rural town with a small hospital the size of a medical center. Not many doctors want to work in these remote parts of Australia. Rural Doctors receive additional incentives from the Government to entice them to work in these little towns. However unfortunately it only attracts the inefficient and washed up Doctors who are in it for the money and probably know that they are not good enough to make it in the big hospitals. But I don’t know how Coober Pedy managed to attract the most gorgeous nurses and Ambos. If not for their help this story and outcome could have been far worse.

I was subjected to stand for an X’ray. I had no strength to stand nor to pose for these Portraits, however I obliged. I swallowed more pain meds, an array of Endone, Panadeine and who knows what ever else. I was high as a kite but the pain was still a 11 out of 10 maybe even a 111 out of 10.

The Doctor advised me that I had fractured my shoulder – the rotator cuff, a zig zag fracture at that. However, as they did not have the facility to operate on me, I would have to make my way back to Adelaide to be operated. My husband duly asked if I could be airlifted. The Doctor advised as it was not “life threatening“, sure it was painful but not life threatening, he will not be able to request an air transfer and for my husband to drive me back.

My husband tried to explain to this man and bring to his attention that Adelaide was in fact 848Kms away, a 9 hr drive only if you were driving to the speed limit of 110 Kms for most of the drive without a stop, which he tried to point out would not be possible with me in the car, screaming blue murder. It was around 12.00pm by now. Hubby also made a point that even if we were to start driving right then, by dusk our vehicle would be devouring a smorgasbord of Kangaroos and we would be nursing more than a broken shoulder. The Doctor then went onto part with more wisdom and told us to take break for that day and travel the next day. He prescribed more pain meds and advised that the pain should ease up and for me to even think of doing some sight seeing.

I could not sit back or lie back on the bed. I hung on to the side rail of the bed. It didn’t appear that the pain would ease up anytime soon. I was mourning. At times I felt my mourning was very loud and felt bad for the patient next to me. My arm was put in a sling and I was discharged from the hospital. Not even a wheelchair was offered. I walked to the car and I have no recollection of how I got into the car seat. It could’ve been Arj my young warrior who helped me in. With the concoction of all the opioids in my system, I was feeling dizzy and nauseous but there was no ease up on the pain.

I found refuge on the couch, again I couldn’t lie back, I hung on to the armrest. Most things are a blur. I think there was some vomiting. Sense of absolute guilt took over me. We came here because things were bad. To release some stress and to relax. But I have created more stress, anxiety and work for Arj and for my overly tired husband. I tried to get up and see if we could go on for some sightseeing. I have seen people walking around normally in a sling and so why can’t I do it. But I just couldn’t. I couldn’t keep myself upright or sit back. I told myself that I was a real fuss pot.

Hubby dismissed the idea of sightseeing and said for me to preserve my strength for the next days trip. He was trying to come up with a plan to transport me. In his mind it was near impossible. He bought some big pillows thinking he could lay me on the back seat.

We received a phone call from a surgeon in Adelaide. Our Doctor in Coober Pedy had sent word to him of my injury and had requested him to operate on me. However, didn’t see the need to send the X’rays. Arj went back to the hospital and requested the X’rays to be sent to the said surgeon. Arj and Hubby were frequenting the shops, pharmacy and the hospital for various things. Another call came from the surgeon.


Posted in True Story, Inspirational

Breaking Bad …(Part 1)

I wonder where and how to begin my story today. A story that I have locked away for eight months. There were many a times I had thought maybe I am ready now. But that maybe was put to rest soon after. I pluck up the courage today to write, just before I am embark on my next visit to the hospital for yet another surgery.

I should start right at the beginning, like how a story should start. This is a story of when things are bad and you think it can’t get any worse, it really can. Compared to the miseries of the world this is a drop in the ocean, a first world “Oh hurt my pinky hold my cup” kinda story, nevertheless it’s my story. It is still a gruesome story filled with a lot of Morphine and Endone. So stay put and continue reading. After the opening few words of inspirations and Kumbaya, I will get back to the story, I promise.

The purpose of this story is not for the pity vote but more to emphasize the importance of “today, right now”. We are all aware of it, however none of us take it very seriously. Your whole world can change within a Nano second. You may have heard the phrase “Live each day as it’s the last” there is an amended Aussie Version and I quite like that one.

“Live each day as it’s the last, as one day you may be right”.

This is the prequel to my story. 26 Dec 2019, We had guests over from interstate. The invention of the phone has been a darn thorn in my life. Wish we just had just had the Telegrams. Then it will be just the one telegram that would be the bearer of bad news.

“Your sister in Hospital (stop) very serious (stop) come soon (stop)”

And that would be it. One telegram. But unfortunately world has moved on from telegrams, to phones and mobile phones. Remember the days when phone calls were charged by the minute. You don’t chat, you hurriedly part important facts and hang up. You don’t have to yell through the phone, testing your vocals because its an international call anymore either. It appears that I am procrastinating.

The long and the short of it – my darling sister-in-law Ranji who we thought was the pillar of health was diagnosed with Ovarian Cancer. Initial phone call came from my other sister-in-law, Jan in Canada. She had heard that Ranji had been admitted to hospital with fluid in her lungs. About then Ranji’s husband rang to advise the same. My initial thought/layman diagnosis was pneumonia. Ranji’s hubby explained that it was fluid coming from her ovaries/stomach region and it was not pneumonia. She was undergoing tests and fluid was being drained. Nothing had been confirmed at this stage however, it didn’t look good. I relayed all this back to Jan. We were all shell shocked. Unfortunately there was no prequel to this part of Ranji’s story. We met her in September 2019, just a few months before for their 40th Wedding anniversary. She even sent us a family photo on Christmas day on WhatsApp. There was no tell-tale signs of her ill health. In the coming days it was confirmed that she indeed had Ovarian Cancer.

It was a very hard pill to swallow. It just didn’t seem fair. She did everything right when it came to taking care of her body. She ate right and lived right. Why? How? Once again the universe was not ready to divulge any wisdom.

She gave it a good fight. We trekked through bushfires to see her as we had no idea how long we had with her. However, she defied everyone’s predictions and soldiered on. She wasn’t called the Iron Lady for nothing. Nov 2020 we celebrated her 60th, a grand zoom black tie event. We celebrated each of the family members birthday on Zoom. In between these grand events we had regular zoom catch up spanning across the Pacific and time zones with the 3 siblings, niece and nephews. We could never get this time back, I am so truly grateful, it was so special but it feels so much more now.

It wasn’t all smooth sailing for her. However, she made it look so simple. There were so many moments where we thought this is it, but she would pull through. Many late night phone calls with Jan, the poor girl was stuck in Canada unable to come over due Covid 19 restrictions in Australia. A family member with Cancer is bad enough but Covid just made things so much harder. Even for us who lived in the same country but were not allowed to travel across the State boarders. So, okay I will give that, the phone was a great invention and whatsapp was god sent. Jan and I spent many a nights crying, being angry and then calming each other down on the phone. Thank god we had each other and we had the phone.

The cancer was taking hold in other parts of her body and in Aug 21 she decided to end all invasive treatments. She is just one class act. She rang us that evening, asked hubby and I to sit down and said “I have an update” update, yes that’s the exact word she used, then explained what was happening to her body and treatment options that was available etc. And she went on to explain that she doesn’t want that as it would be a painful procedure, her quality of life would not be great and would only give her a few more months at the most. She went onto explain that now her organs will start to fail one by one, it could take a couple of days or maybe couple of weeks before she passes away. She was not upset, she was calm, she had made a very informed clear decision. Grace and Poise till the end. We were bawling our eyes off and all I could get out was to tell her that she was so amazing and I love her. Not sure if I said that I love her, I kept repeating that she was amazing. My hubby was caught off guard. He was suggesting/stammering that surely there was something more they could do. She calmly told my husband that it was exactly what her son had said, but the cancer was everywhere and she was done. We know she gave it all, and we knew in our hearts she was done. We had to respect her decision.

My youngest started to look into ways to get across the boarder to see her under the “end of life” exemption. Our workplaces were great. They gave us time off without hesitation. Arj got all the necessary paperwork to travel across the boarder. We were all set to leave on that Saturday, however that Friday things got really bad in NSW, Covid had spread up to Dubbo. We were getting information from all who knew we were planning the trip up there and asking us to rethink. We had to abort our plans by Friday night. It was such a disappointment.

This was a very difficult time, I am not going to get into the emotional state of us as I don’t want to open that flood gates again. To say that we felt pretty gutted is an understatement. The next day Arj had this great idea that we could go on a holiday within the State. Since we had already taken time off and we were all feeling pretty awful. So take a break, blow off some steam and return, as life goes on, well life must go on.

So a plan was drafted – First stop Coober Pedy, an Opal Mining town 850Km from City about a 9.5hr drive. Plans were made to stay a couple of nights in an underground motel and then driving back down to Adelaide with a few more one day stops notably including at a place called Coward Springs which boasts a natural hot springs amongst other interesting titbits.

The journey started swimmingly. One of the things Ranji requested was that on our zoom meetings she didn’t want the conversations to be just about cancer. For her life was more than that and especially then. We followed suit. So our green machine started to plow through the land of nothing.

After 9 – 10 Hours of driving around 6.00pm we entered Coober Pedy. It was a quaint little town. All the working mines were quite visible from the road. It was as if we had entered the Flintstones lands. I was waiting for hubby my “Fred” to belt out yabba dabba doo. The used up mines were now converted to Underground Museums, Underground Serbian Church, Underground Art Gallery etc. It was really my cup of tea. This was all going to be added to my itinerary for tomorrow. We had Pizza for dinner from the famous Pizza place where Chopper Read had been, among other famous/notorious people. Loved our cute quaint underground apartment.

All my plans for the next day went up the smoke.

To be continued….

Posted in True Story, Inspirational

About #Breakthebias

My two bobs on International Women’s Day campaign #breakthebias.

I am not someone who usually joins in such campaigns.  As I think sometimes these campaigns are just a lot of noise and nothing constructively is achieved at the end. 

I walk my own walk and I fight my own battles has been usually my take. But today I have decided to join in with my fellow sisters and daughters to say enough is enough #breakthebias

I have joined in because – I know I am able to walk my walk and have this confidence because my father believed in equality.  He gave me the confidence to stand tall and ask questions and call out anyone who tell me otherwise. 

But unfortunately for centuries many women had to from a young age even from their own parents had to hear that they are not good enough, they will be never be equal to a man, shut up and put up was the message that was drummed in.  The sons of this generation believed in this and kept the tradition going.  So, we mothers have a great responsibility on this agenda too.  We need to stop our husbands, partners or even if it is our own father spreading this decease to the younger generation.  We need to ask our partners and sons to join forces with us to #breakthebias.

We are shouting out loud today and may be tomorrow as well – Enough is enough.  Women are more than a mini skirt and a crop top. Women have proven that they can work in any field and play in any game. Not just work, not just get by but in fact we can excel. So enough already just let us be. Let us be true to ourselves.  Quoting a line from – Korean Boy band BTS’s song – Permission to Dance,

“cause we don’t need permission to dance”

“cause when we fall, we know how to land

don’t need to talk the talk, just walk the walk tonight”

WE DON’T NEED ANYONE’S PERMISSION, we are more than capable of making our decisions, we can be whoever we want to be, not necessarily what you want us to be. 

I have quoted a Korean Boy band.  Not because I don’t know to quote Nietzsche. Again, because I feel like breaking the mould today.  To my fellow sisters and daughters get your inspiration from whoever and where ever.  Question everything and everyone.  Call out everyone and anyone.





Posted in family, True Story, Inspirational

35 Not Out

Australia wins the Ashes.  Travis Head is awarded “Player of the match”. It is normal for us to give all the credit to the individual batsman for the victory, however there was more than one reason, more than one player for this victory.  Great bowling, fielding and unnoticed to the world an army of other individuals worked tirelessly behind the scenes to make the team win. The coaches, the Physios, doctors and even the groundsmen play a role. But ultimately the responsibility and commitment are shouldered by two individuals at the crease for the win.  Your best bowlers can bowl the opposition out, but your batsmen have to score runs, for your best batsman to perform he needs someone at the other end to keep scoring. He needs a solid partner.

He/she needs someone willing to stay out in the middle facing all the elements and weathering the storm together.

Amidst all this, the universe rejoices another partnership milestone.

 YES, The Ganesan’s – Uma and Ganesh notch a 35 not out partnership.

Thirty-Five years ago, they made it official to the world that they are in love and wanted to start a life together. Well, it wasn’t entirely their decision when it came to setting the date for the wedding.  They would have preferred a date a bit later at least with a lead time of more than two weeks to organise this event.  But, as per the Sri Lankan tradition your wedding isn’t entirely your business, it was a whole family business. 

It was almost a shot gun wedding – no I was not pregnant. 

Ganesh suddenly returned from the UK earlier than expected.  This immediately raised the curiosity of the family to ask when we were getting married. My mum was okay to leave that decision to me.  However, as my dad had passed away only a few years ago and it was an un-manned household, our voices were drowned.  However, the plea from my cousin Sulochana was what finally made us to go along with this rushed wedding.

Cuz Sulo was the one who first broke the news and got permission from both parents on our behalf.  Proposed marriages were still the norm at that time.  Announcing that you have made your own choice could get you into hot water. But luckily both our parents were happy with our choices. 

Cuz Sulo (Sulo akka) was migrating to Australia the next month.  She was there when I was born and to every other milestone of my life. Then when my father fell ill, she was there from accompanying him on the ambulance, to the end.  She even allowed his funeral to be held in her house.  So, when she asked us teary eyed “I would like to see you two getting married” we just couldn’t refuse.  We both cried and said OK. We had both lost a parent, the lesson – life and time was precious was hard wired, we may not have all the loved ones that we want at our wedding if we delay it crossed our minds. So gave in to this crazy idea.

For the new age thinking the marriage should be about the two of us and we should decide etc etc,  yes, that’s exactly how I felt 35 years ago, when the whole planning of the wedding was hijacked from me. With age and experience I think my ideas and ideals have changed a bit. In the last 35 years we have weathered some storms, some worse than the other.  But amongst all that there was some splendid display of great batting.  Time to time the unorthodox Batsman would be summoned to the middle of crease for a small talk.  But to his credit he would listen to his partner and continue with his good form. But the beauty of the partnership was that they took turns, rotated the scoring. For an unorthodox batsman he knew when to drop his flamboyancy and be there for his partner. Whispers in my ears “we’ve got this” – no this man has no idea how to whisper, if so, it would be a whisper that could be heard by the neighbours, so unpoetic it may be but a stern bellow “we got this” maybe an added “don’t be silly”. So the batting continued.

As two veteran batsmen on the crease we were doing a fabulous job.  However, we couldn’t have got through all the curve balls and bouncers without the abundant love and support from our big family/clan. 

It was chaotic to say the least to prepare a wedding in two weeks with your entire family and neighbourhood involved. All the wedding halls were booked out but that didn’t faze my cousin Sulo, she opened up her house without a single moment of hesitation. 

I have always thought that it wasn’t a perfect wedding.  I could have/would have changed so many things, the venue, the décor, the flowers, the amount of jewellery, my make up the list goes on. Unable to go through the old album to prepare something for this anniversary (due to my injury), I thought I will edit our wedding video.  Looking through the video after so many years I realise, that it was the most perfect wedding.  Yes, the venue, deco, jewellery and make up were all wrong.  But, does it really matter?

It was an era where the Hindu bride was meant to bow down to the earth and look sombre and pious. In this video, I notice that the bride and groom in spite of the big audience they seem to be in their own bubble having their own fun and laughter.  That wouldn’t have been possible without the said man standing next to me. 

I always thought it was a shambles of a wedding and a-not-so bad marriage, room for improvement – well sometimes a whole renovation was needed. 

But I am ashamed to say that it has taken me 35 years to realise that it was indeed the perfect wedding for a perfect couple. It was a gift prepared for them by their loving family. I didn’t have my dad to give me away but the whole village made sure the job got done.  To my big crazy family and friends, THANK YOU. 

In this partnership many would think that I was the better batsman (batsman/woman whatever), maybe so for most part.  Keeping with the cricket theme – yes Ricky Ponting played on with a broken jaw and that was a great feat indeed.  But how could he not?  He had to do it for the team and furthermore he had faith in the team.  Him at the crease gave them the best chance and as he said, “it was worth it”

I gave the promise “in sickness and in health” a good test. Opted to take the revolving door to the hospital year after year.  Thank you, Ganesh, for walking through that door with me each time.  You gave me the courage and a reason to fight it. Yes, I did it for the kids too.  The kids were your gift to me and I will do anything to protect those precious gifts.

I think we have a lot more runs left in us. However, point of difference – in Cricket you have the option to form a new partnership. Sorry mate you’re it for me and not giving you that option either.  So, pad up and let’s keep going. 

The Video

As I couldn’t lift the big old photo albums, I decided to edit our wedding video.  I have never taken any interest in doing such things in the past, always palmed it off to my kids such projects.  This is my very first attempt and again using my broken shoulder as an excuse asking forgiveness for the roughness of the editing.  But keep in my mind it was a 3-hr video which I have managed to cut it to about 5 minutes or so.  That was not an easy task. The videography itself is pretty archaic – its like watching through an old bond movie with the really bad special effects. If you can stomach it try and watch till the end, a bit of comedy awaits.

For the non-Hindu audience – short explanations on some of the traditions

Lighting of the lamp – All events and celebrations start with lighting this particular style lamp. 

Alarthi – Two women (mature women – ideally someone already married etc) hold a tray with 3 pieces of banana. A wick would be inserted to the cut banana so it could be lit like a lamp.  This ritual is done to the VIP of the event. I think it is a form welcoming him wading off evil spirit and giving blessings etc.  I am by far the worst person to talk about rituals as I have no idea, so I could be totally wrong.

Thali – it is similar in importance as a wedding ring.  It is a special type of necklace given by the groom to the bride. It has a screw at the back rather than a clasp or a hock.  Hence the reason for a flock of individuals to be at the back assisting the groom.  It will always be only women who would be at the back, it is an important job. 

In our weddings there are many rituals that happen before and after the wedding as well. I have cut short all the rituals as they are too darn long.  As per my husband this is to discourage a second marriage. 😊

Please ask away any questions you have. Nothing would be deemed offensive.

Posted in True Story, Inspirational

My Opinion

Forget Freedom of Speech at present it feels like I have to fight for freedom of thought. If not for my upbringing of being polite to all and sundry even when they don’t deserve it.. mmm… so much biting the tongue, it is getting pretty painful.

Growing up with my dad, he encouraged me to have my own opinions and debate them at home. A healthy debate. We never had to raise our voices, call names, ridicule, no, we did not need to resort to any of those things. The topics ranged from politics, education, cultural differences, clothing, movies, characters in epic stories, sports teams, no subject was taboo. All this started at a very young age. In an era and culture where the father was supposed to be revered and not some one you argue with, my dad let me have that freedom.

Growing up with dad once again, I am constantly reminded of RESTPECT. My dad was an intellect. My mum on the other hand had not even completed year 12. On paper, on Tinder they will never be a perfect match. But, my dad had nothing but respect for my mum. He believed my mum’s strength, confidence and demeanor could not be measured by a mere paper qualification or the lack of it. Years to come after his demise he was proven right.

I look around the girls I grew up, in the boarding school I attended, again we were asked to conform, however, almost all of us have not conformed to any box that the society has laid out. Each one of us has taken different outlook on life. But most of us are happy at our destination.

Is it a story about success or survival for my friends and me. Is survival the success? What’s your yardstick on success? That’s the million dollar question without sounding all hippy.

Success is like Happiness, the yardstick belongs to you, not to your neighbor. It really does not matter whether my neighbor things I am successful or happy, what matters is what do I think. Again something that my dad instilled in my success cannot be measured by your bank balance, the car your drive or where you live alone. There is absolutely no harm in having a healthy bank balance and the rest. But that alone is not my yardstick. It definitely could be yours.

What about my opinion? Most of us have a reason for our opinion/opinions. I am willing to listen to your reason for your difference of opinion as long as you would give me the same courtesy. Taking the lessons from my dad, I implemented this in my household and the boys and I have a fairly robust and healthy debate on most subjects. My husband on the other hand struggled at the notion of not being able to raise his voice or bluff out. He is showing progress (as he really has no other choice).

However, the world at large is a different animal altogether. The amount of people who feel need the educate me as “You don’t know”, yes thank you for educating me, I missed out on that piece of general knowledge as I was sleeping under a rock all this time. Thank you for the wake up call and taking the time to educate me. So generous of them and I am making snide remarks. Apologies to all the well wishers, just saying it was a waste of your time.

Thinking of posting a Opinion of mine each day and see how many I could tick off.

Opinion of the day –

Australia is a Great Country

Amazing country, great people, time after time we have proven it, now with the floods, we have risen again, soon it will be drought, and then it will be bushfires. But we will help each other, we are nation built on the notion that every one’s a mate, and we rise again.

I like the fact that my tax dollars goes towards looking after the retired, those who are disabled, those who are struggling to get employment. Yes I know its not a perfect system, and some unemployed could get off their backside and work, so can the politicians not wrought the system by claiming travel and renting and everything else. Its not a perfect system but near perfect.

I like the fact we have award wages and we don’t need to tip. I pay for the food, the owner of the business pays his employees. Yes, the waiter is not reliant on the customers tip. We still have a wage gap, but in all honesty it is pretty fair. It is way better than, India, China or even the Great America. We still need to work on how we treat the back packers and overseas students. Yes, not perfect but pretty darn close.

I like the fact that we have Medicare, even the poor and the old can avoid dying if they don’t have to. We have public education so the poor can get an education and come out of the rut.

I know I am paying my taxes for all of the above. Once again I would rather pay for the above than to pay for Murdoch, Packers or the rest of them to buy another private Jet. I would prefer not to pay for Polies life long super, once again not perfect but near enough.

Sydney is not New York not even Paris. But, I have never been one to be spellbound by big and shiny things. Not everything that glitters is gold. In my opinion Australia is the real deal. I left Sydney and came to Adelaide. Our choice to settle here. It’s not because we couldn’t make it in Sydney, in fact Hubby took a pay cut to come here. It was a genuine sea change that we came for. Adelaide is far more backward than Sydney in many aspects. But, surprisingly far better life style than Sydney or anywhere else. But, not for everyone, obviously far more opportunities for young ones in Sydney and Melbourne. It’s like the Hemsworth’s settling in Byron Bay. Their heaven, but might not be for everyone.

When I first arrived in Adelaide, I came across the two carriage so called train and then to witness the train station which looked like a bus stop was a shock to the system. My eldest later told me that he was expecting haystacks on lorries on the road (blame it on too much TV and cartoons). Yes, all these things gave us a chuckle. But over the years I have come to realise that Adelaide is more progressive than many of the major cities, Adelaide was one the first cities to stop plastic shopping bags (in Australia), and now moving towards removing single use plastic containers, its a very common site to see people taking their own mugs to buy coffee. Our Energy sources are mainly wind and solar. We are a vast country with most of the year with sunshine. Capitalising on this should be every states mission.

From Wine, Gin, Food products to IT and innovation we punch above our waist. Those in the industry know about this. Every one knows Muhammad Ali. But not so when it comes to Joe Frazier. Does it mean Joe Frazier wasn’t good or does it mean you don’t know your stuff. Yes, it means you don’t know enough.

I like to leave you with a quote from Daisy Bates

“The real bush poetry cannot be interpreted by English Poets, but a true Australian steeped in the charm of it … His poems will issue like Chauser’s from the inborn joyousness that is the heritage of all who are born in this land of sunshine

Forget Freedom of speech, I am fighting for freedom of thought at this point. And I can tell you, that if not for my upbringing of being polite to all and sundry, mmm… yes let’s stop there.

Posted in True Story, Inspirational

Thankfully not another statistics

This is a story of a woman that I have recently come to cross paths with.  I don’t claim to know the whole story nor do I claim to understand the feelings and emotions she would have endured.  Not even close.  But her tales touches my heart.  No, her tales sends shivers down my spine but her tenacity and what she has become touches my heart. 

I started writing today, initially to pen her a few words.  To tell her how thankful I am to know she is ok and how humbled I am to know her.

But then I thought that there are lessons to be learnt here. So, here I am, to talk about Megan. (Obviously Megan’s name isn’t Megan).

This is a story of woman who can truly claim to be a survivor, a hero, an inspiration and any other cliché’ that you could coin together. But what is really remarkable is not just her survival, but her tenacity and her drive to excel.

I was not with her when she wept. I wasn’t with her when she screamed. I wasn’t with her when she felt hopeless.  If not for Covid 19 I would give her big hug now and tell her, how sorry I am that she had to bear all that, but I am so darn relieved that she is ok.  Maybe not completely ok.  But she hasn’t stopped to play the victim.  I truly admire her strength. 

Ten years ago, while I was renovating my house for its imperfections, while I was complaining that the tilers had left the house in disarray, while I complained that I had to use the guest bathroom again as ours was unfinished….

Probably at the same moment wonder, what Megs was going through… Probably living in fear or worse being abused by her partner, Probably homeless with two kids at tow.  So many probabilities, and all of them worse than the other. 

I do not know all her stories.  But what I have heard so far, the glimpse of her past that she has shared so far, sounds pretty gruesome.

To say that she wasn’t born with a silver spoon is an understatement. 

“I met my biological mum at the age of 12”

she says quite nonchalantly.  What happened in that first 12 yrs of her life, I do not know….What happened in the next twelve years of her life, I don’t know that either… Where are the scars or what are scars?  They are well hidden. 

We continue with our end of financial year end reconciliations, reporting, preparing for Audits and plain and simply stressing out. So our conversations turns back to all things numbers.

Megan started at this company at the receptions desk.  And has upskilled and worked her way up.  Which is remarkable for anyone in its own merit. But for someone like Megs, who had to put out so many fires and the scars that had to be nursed, is a truly remarkable feet. 

She is smart, competent and confident.  She is sincere and reliable. And that wrap is for her professional life.  In her personal life, she is an amazing mother for two young girls.  She is the kind of mother who would amputate her limb to save her child.  For the naked eye there are no battle scars.

Just before the weekend another casual conversation leads to her telling me why she moved from a beachside suburb to miles away into hills.  Again, no tears or any other emotional outburst, just casually she says, Ï had to flee from my abusive partner, I was homeless for a while”. Eventually she had obtained a caravan and parked in her step sister’s property and lived there with her kids.  She goes on to say that her daughters now suffer badly with anxiety etc, due to their childhood.  She simply says “they saw a lot”.  Simple words but they sound so heavy. 

Her kids had started school in that area, and not wanting to move them and put them in instability again, she chooses to live in the hills district and travel to work daily – a two hour trip consisting of 20 min walk and 2 buses for just one way. What an amazing mother.

The story itself is not much different to most other domestic violence stories.  What is remarkable, what is different in this story is “Megan”

She had chosen not to be another statistic; she had chosen not remain a victim nor to play the victim card but to make something of her life.  Maybe it was for her kids, whoever or what ever the reason it was for, she decided to swim rather than sink.  She decided to climb rather that descend.

I am truly humbled to know this remarkable woman.

What’s my message, what do I take from all this.

First and foremost, to Megs, I know your battles aren’t over yet, but girl, you’ve done so well so far, take moment and take a bow. You’ve earned it. 

Note to myself, next time I complain about something inane, let me remember, that life could be so much worse. 

To free yourself from the tendrils of domestic violence is not easy.  But you need to. He is never going to change.  Yes, he was sorry, but he won’t change, he will do it again. And again. Get help, from anywhere, you may think you are alone.  But someone will help.  So, get out before it’s too late.  Don’t ignore the warning signs.  Red lights may turn amber for awhile and you may even think it’s green now. But when it comes to abuse, one red light is all you need to pack your bags.  

Then once you are out, start to build your life back up again.  It will definitely not be easy.  But don’t let that son of a you know who still calling the shots.  You are in charge now. To crudely paraphrase it like Ned Kelly “shit happens” but unless you flush it and move away you will be still smelling that thing.  Even it was diarrhoea, you still need to flush it and move away.  Where am I going with this – Move away, playing the victim doesn’t help anyone, especially you.   Here’s to Megan. 

Posted in love, marriage

Thirty-Four Years of Togetherness

Today marks our Thirty-Four years of tug-of-war of Domestic Dominance. It has been ride like none other. We had to swim against the tide many a times. But here we are still (kind of) in tact.

To the love of my life and the pain of my daily existence,

Thank you for the past 34 years.

There hasn’t been a single day where I haven’t thought “Why me” 

Then again you also make me emotional at the most unexpected times and win me right over.

You have the ability to make me think (lovingly) “how will I do without him?” and the on the same breath to sigh “What am I going to do with him”

Could you please stop doing that?  Could you please let me keep my pride and anger and achieve “transformation Ganesh” (that has been a long overdue project, I may add)?

What does your report card look like?

Communication SkillsNeeds improvement– attention to using more “please” and “thank you’s” in conversations needed.  The speed of and willingness to say “sorry” needs to improve remarkably.

ComplianceNeeds improvement. The word compliance means just that – Compliance – no questions ‘Just do it”

ComprehensionLacking, Needs immediate attention.  A starting point would be to have practices in place for better “listening”.  Multi-tasking is not one of your strong fortes, so just listen – that means no TV or other distractions.  Avoid “mm”. 

EffortHas shown improvement.  But consistency would be appreciated.  It would definitely decrease the “why me” status of your poor wife.

Overall PerformanceHas a lot of potential.  Has received many warnings and almost all mistakes have been repeated numerous times. But for unknown reasons has won me over year after year.  

I know there is no cure for stupidity.  I guess this is the key to this long-lasting marriage. 

Posted in family

Twenty Seven Years.. Feels like yesterday…

Once a upon a time there lived a new couple who migrated to a new country, after a few travels around the world in a ship. They were settling down and preparing their little nest. They had bought their first property, a two bedroom apartment. One by one furniture’s were added to upgrade the apartment. Mostly white furniture’s. ‘The lady liked the white crisp colour also she felt that there was no escape for those family members who would otherwise cover up spillages. The apartment looked spotless and modern on a fairly low budget. They owned just the one car. They both had full time jobs. The lady worked full time and studied part time. So they were busy but it was still a structured life. The man played Tennis on the Saturday. They also fitted in the shopping, entertaining or going out on the Saturday. Sunday was mainly for cleaning and cooking for the week.

One fine day they received news that they were going to have a new family member pretty soon. Not so soon, in about nine months. They were overjoyed. The man became a blithering idiot. He did not jump on a coffee table. He even forgot to hug his wife. He just started to utter random words at the doctor. He demanded the that the doctor prescribe Vitamins to his wife as she was very week. He also advised the doctor that she should organise a Cesarean as his wife was too small to be able to deliver a baby. The doctor fearing the welfare and mental state of this man, politely pointed out that there was almost nine months to discuss and plan for these concerns. She also advised him to have a cup of tea and go for a walk.

This was no movie or a dream for things to go swimmingly perfect. This was real life so not everything was going to plan. The lady also had a family history that the doctors didn’t want a repeat of. She was just thankful that she was in Australia with an amazing medical team to assist her. So after the first few months of speed bumps on the road things started to settle down with the pregnancy. Still no one was taking any chances.

So twenty seven years ago yesterday she was returning from her weekly visit to the doctors in a cab all by herself. (The man was still new in his work place, and work places were not so understanding twenty seven years ago for paternal needs, so unfortunately he could not accompany her for all her visits to the doctor). The cab driver just before dropping her off, comments “it must be pretty close now, when are you due?”, She replies ” today actually”. The cab driver didn’t want to waste anymore time chatting, he departed as quickly as he could.

She got busy after her trip to the doctors. She had to finish off the quilt she was stitching for the new arrival. The machine needle broke. She took it to her neighbors and finished the sewing project. The cot was perfect now. She had a sense emergency today. She finished the cooking just as her husband arrived home. Hubby inquired about her visit to the doctors. He asked why she had not asked to be induced and have the baby already. He could tell that she was not comfortable carrying this frontal load. She told him to eat his dinner and went on to have a shower feeling, mmm… I think not long now.

They ended up in hospital soon after. Many moons ago, many full moons ago to be precise on that day Buddha attained Nirvana. Hours passed by, the new arrival showed no urgency in his pace. Again not a dream nor a movie, this was real life, so after eighteen long hours spanning into the next day the new arrival finally makes his way out and makes known to the world with a good heartfelt scream.

Life couldn’t be any more perfect. A movie could do no justice to real life.

The white furniture’s didn’t last long after that. But life was still perfect.

Posted in True Story, Inspirational

Thirty Three years and Counting …

In our first humble dwelling in West Ryde – a one bedroom rented apartment.

We notched 33 years together on the 19th of Jan 2020. Time and tide waits for no one. The same way Cough, cold and the plague like flu doesn’t hold back either just because it’s your special day. I lost everything. I lost my voice and my room. I was banished to the guest room as no one wanted what I had.

We sipped a glass of Cognac sitting far apart. There were no candles or flowers. No caviar or lobster. Take away (take out) soup and dumplings adorned the table. I quietly watched my hubby through my “Vicks” laced eyes. He looked tired. He has lost most of his thick mop of hair. The pot belly has taken a permanent place and expanding gradually. That man who polished his shoes and waltzed in with dashing looks is not there anymore. He has been replaced with a tired old man. I know he needs a break. But he will stubbornly refuse.

I look down at my self. Once the non existent belly has found a few companions. They are fondly called the muffin tops. With our looks gone astray, all we have left is the love for each other.

Our 2nd dwelling in Sydney – our first purchase – a two bedroom apartment

It feels like recently we have been hit by seismic waves one after another. We need a reprieve. Each time we come to the surface it feels like some one is waiting outside to hammer us down back in again. My life partner takes the brunt of it all, without much ado.

The New year dawned for us with another uncertainty. I was determined to go through with my New Year’s eve annual party. As we get old I am becoming more aware of the fact that we are only temporary residents of this world. Life is to be lived was my motto on that day. It was hard at times to concentrate on the preparations and cooking. Still it was a good distraction. Family and friends gathered and we had a good night.

Six days later we drove to Sydney. In the height of the Bush fires we didn’t take this trip lightly. Hubby’s sister and bro-in-law were very concerned about us driving. For many reasons driving was a better option for us. However, safety comes first and we didn’t want to add to the ill fortunes that was following us.

I rang the Bush fire info authorities. These organisations mostly run by volunteers do an amazing job. They checked our route and gave us the thumbs up, also armed us with a few apps, that would indicate any fires near us, road closures etc. We also packed a few essentials in case we got blocked in. Quilt, Pillows, Water, food etc.

The weather was on our side. So on that Monday the 6th we started our two day trip to Sydney. I am glad we drove rather than fly to Sydney. It gave us time to talk, hold hands and just enjoy the presence of each other. In our busy lives this was such a luxury. And to enjoy the nature, the bare Australian out-back has it’s own charm. The iron fist grip of the drought was very evident.

Pink Lake – But not a drop of water in this lake any more.

In places we drove through thick fog of smoke. Smoke from the bush fires that were burning at least 100 Kms away. Makes you wonder what it would have been like at ground zero. We did meet a couple of fire fighters at one of our coffee stops. They looked tired and worn out. They still managed a smile for us.

It is only fitting that I write about this today on Australia day. This is a beautiful country. Sure we have bush fires, year after year. Maybe each year worse than the last. But it has not broken us yet. Sure we have the worst Prime Minister in the world (maybe that’s a bit harsh but among the one’s we’ve had, have to say he tops as the worst), but we definitely have some of the best humans in this part of the world. We are one big family. We have our differences, amongst them some quirky relatives too, but all in all we are an amazing family. We are there for each other.

When the American, Canadian and New Zealand fire fighters rocked up on our shores, I felt proud to be a human. Although we are responsible for so many vile atrocities, we are also capable of being extraordinarily amazing. Some of my friends from overseas who had snapped a picture with our local Koala posted this on facebook. All the concerned messages from friends and relatives from overseas confirmed that we were not alone in this battle.

This was not exactly a joy ride to Sydney, I do not wish divulge too much into that as it is not my story to tell. While we were there we visited a couple of friends of ours. One of whom is now on remission from bowl cancer. Another example of mistaken identity by the Kharma god. I am pretty sure he has not hurt a soul in his past 10 lives nor will he in next hundred. However, he has so far put a grand fight and at present is still the victor. The other is the carer of his wife with Dementia. She is not that much older than I am. This is the first time I have come across a younger person with this horrible decease. She was a stylish, assertive, tough career woman. Seeing her like that was very upsetting. This has made me question everything. Her hubby is doing an amazing job taking care of her. But how do you really come to terms with all this. It would be no difference to living with a stranger. There is no telling if I could become the victim as a carer or as the patient.

Life is precious. Live it today is my message.

Talking about the road trip I had veered off the track about us – hubby and me. But not exactly. This trip to Sydney, the life lessons learned has confirmed more than anything is that I love this man very much.

What we have right now is what we really have. We have to hold on tight to that. Our hopes and dreams for the future are just that. A Dream. It will only eventuate if you wake up from that dream. So realise your reality today was your dream yesterday. Enjoy it and treasure it.

After a week in Sydney we drove back to Adelaide with much lighter heart. Even when things are not great we need to be positive and be thankful that the situation is not that grave either.

Work related dramas started to evolve for hubby as we were driving back. After driving for nearly 10-11 hrs on the 2nd day of the drive we get home around 7.00pm. He unpacks the car and leaves immediately to work. Returns late and then leaves early next morning to Port Pirie – 230 kms drive. His cadet day training comes to fruition I think. We returned from Sydney on the 13th. Since then he has been to Port Pirie, Mackay and Western Australia.

How do I thank a man who tirelessly works not just for his family but also for the family of his employee. He knows as a family we are ready for him to retire. I would rather buy a few less shoes than see my man work so hard. But he is a complex man with very strong ethics. Very hard not to be proud of this man.

Since Christmas we have been eating out a lot. I could see he was so tired that all he wanted was to get two minutes of sleep. Not get dressed up to go out. So for this anniversary celebrations I wanted to make a special meal and have a quiet night at home.

But then I got attacked by something similar to the Bubonic plague. It is not a secret that my husband doesn’t posses any of the skills of Jamie Oliver. So he brings me soup each day from “Shanghai Tea House”. He will bring me enough for the next day lunch as well, then a fresh one for dinner. On the Saturday he had been working since early, he rings me around 4.30pm asking if I wanted more soup. I was feeling a bit better and I was going to help my son make the soup that night. So I said no for the soup but I was craving for a fresh Juice with a lot of ginger from Boost Juice. He asked what my son would like, if we wanted sushi (my sons and I love sushi, it’s our go to food when we are sick, hubby is not a fan of sushi). My son too gave an order for the Boost Juice but said no for the sushi as we knew the juice would be rather filling. Few hours pass by and no hubby on sight. I feel rather guilty, because I know he would be so tired after working non stop for so many days.

My hubby returns with a collection of stuff from the shops. Boost Juice at the shopping centre had closed by the time he had got there. Hence the delay. He had gone all over the place looking for another Boost juice. He had found a drive through Boost Juice. Didn’t know such a thing existed until now. Along with that he had also bought Sushi enough to feed the neighborhood, Chocolate Drumstics of two kinds and not to leave the dog out some chicken jerky for the dog as well.

I know it was not the 33.1 carat diamond ring Elizabeth Taylor received. Not even a 100 Roses Bouquet. But this man makes me tear up with just a Boost Juice. I am in love with this man today. I have been for the last 33 years. His love gestures are pretty unique. But that’s what makes him special. If I have one wish for our future, I wish we continue our lives the same way as today, with all the laughs, squabbles and simple love.

Posted in True Story, Inspirational

How old is your kid or Jasmin Tea

Sitting in a lonely supposedly Thai café but menu seems more like Malaysian, I pull out my mini tab to start writing /typing.  I think of continuing my writing on my trip to China, but I realise that today was not the day.  I am on edge, even though everything has gone alright so far.  So I think to write about, ‘waiting’ – waiting for a bus, waiting at the airport, waiting for medical results and waiting for your son to come out of surgery”.

It was a very early morning start.  But I think I had already become jittery by last night. I laughed it out loud, hoping no one picks up on my nervous energy.  I want to be strong.  In my head I know the data, statistics and the logic. However this mother’s heart seems to skip all logic and starts tearing up each time she is alone. 

I don’t know what to write about. All I know is that I need to write or do something.  So here I am debating what to write about. 

What age is too old to worry about your kid? I know he is not 2, but he is still my kid, I didn’t love him any more when he was 2 and I don’t love him any less just because he is legally an adult now.  He is still my kid.   Am I a neurotic mum?  Yes, maybe. 

This Jasmine tea is really good.  It really has a calming effect.  Not sure if it is the Tea or the writing, but I think the tightness in my chest is reducing.  I am tearing up writing though, thankfully the cafe is empty, however I like to believe that this activity here is helping. 

So how old is a kid? How old is your kid? Sleepless nights-your baby is up for a feed and a nappy change,  Sleepless nights – your toddler is teething,  tantrums, sleepless nights – your teenager hasn’t returned home, restless nights – your young man is sitting for exams.  Proud mum moments –  you are pregnant, the beginning of the worries and pride, unforgettable moment-the big day arrives, after screams and pain killers arrives the bundle of joy – undoubtedly an unforgettable moment/event that marks as the starting point of the roller coaster for the proud parents.  Proud moments – your baby’s first step, first time to call you ‘mum’, first day at school, he graduates.  So does it end there? Afraid not. 

It’s not about letting go. I have let him go, I am proud that he has left the cocoon, spread his wings and soured high.   But this mother cannot stop worrying. 

I know it’s not my fault that he is in hospital now.  I have been told that by everyone repeatedly and I get that.  But, I still feel terrible. Even if it was not my fault, do I want him to go through what I went through? I would go through it again ten times over, than have my baby on that operating table.  But, whoever/whatever well in this case a mutated gene dictates otherwise.  Yes, I get that, we have turned the unfortunate to fortunate. It was unfortunate that I had the cancer, however it was fortunate that I had this cancer as now we can prevent it for my boys. 

Logic is still playing second fiddle while waiting for that phone call to say my boy is out of theatre.  I start walking.  I get to Princes Highway.  I start walking, I end up at Greenwood Plaza which is connected to the North Sydney Station.  Peek hour commuters embark from the trains and walk past me with high pace.  Each one rushing off, unable to spare even single second.  I was one of them just two decades ago. 

Here I am, who has quit her job, tossed her career without a moments regret.  Observing this crowd, I realise, how much we change, how our priorities change as per our age and circumstances. Nothing matters, when it comes to your kids.

I glance at my phone to see if I had missed the phone call from the hospital.  No missed calls.  I aimlessly walk through my favourite shops.  I realise, shopping can only be a hobby not a distraction.  The latest design nor the best deals seem to grab me. I got back to Princes Highway and started walking in the opposite direction.  Not sure how long I walked for or how far I walked for.  But after sometime I thought it was time to head back to the hospital.  Maybe they forgot to call me.

Weeks later we went to see my son’s surgeon, whose clinic is in St Leonards.  I recognized that place and told my son I had come there on the day of his surgery.  That’s when I realised that there are two stations between North Sydney and St. Leonard’s .  Obviously this is a new source of humour for my son on my account.  My son didn’t initially believe that I had walked that much or for what.  I explained that I just kept walking along Princes Highway.  So, now every time we have a destination to go via Princes Highway he would suggest that I just walk it.  Yes, he does think that my anxiety and worry was unwarranted.  But he is no parent.  (Princes Highway is a major road in Aus extends from NSW to South Australia along the coast roughly about 1980 kms).

I enquire at the reception re my son’s progress.  She sends me to the ward that my son will be admitted to after the surgery.  The nurse at the ward was a sweetheart. Obviously another mother.  She explains to me that my son was taken in late and hence the delay in coming out of theatre .  That explains the long wait. It still was no cure for a jittery mother.  Her kind words and empathy were helpful  though. She takes me to the carers waiting room/lounge. 

My tablet and phone were on the last bars of battery power.  The sweetheart nurse shows me to a small room off the lounge where I could charge my electronics. I think doctors heal your ailment and the nurses complete it with healing your heart.

 I  am alone once again in a small room.  Although we detest solitude, it is still necessary. It plays an important part in reasoning , analysing and self healing.  I lasted all of ten minutes or maybe less with that philosophy.  I leave my phone and tablet to charge and join the rest of the zombies in the carer lounge.  The TV was on with same old, same old – someone was shot, a politician said something controversial, hurricane in Japan, some celebrity that no one knows or cares about is now engaged and another divorced, but still no news about my son.

There was no Jasmin tea in the waiting area. I make a mental note to myself, that I should add that to the “suggestions/complains” on the discharge form.  I was pretty sure another cup of Jasmin Tea is what I needed.  Not wanting to unplug my electronics I settle for a black tea and for some more of the world news.  The world seems to continue even with all the atrocities and disasters.  I finally get a call from the anesthetic to say that my boy has done well.  And that is my world.  We have our set backs. But life has a way of working out in the end.   My boy will get through this. we will get through this.

Posted in True Story, Inspirational

The Ganesan’s in the Orient 4


Still in Shanghai

We stayed 3 nights in Shanghai.  We walked through many streets, drove a fair distance, rode the fastest train, a mini cruise all crammed in those 3 days.  China is a big country with a very old history and culture.  So 3 days in Shanghai was nowhere near enough.

It has been many moons and drinks since this trip, again life’s road blocks keeps popping up.  I am trying to think of them as speed bumps and not road blocks.  So, I am back again in my writing nook, looking for a distraction.

Back to what the sentence where I started “It has been many moons and drinks…” (before I veered off), so the order of the visits and some details may be distorted.

We were in awe with their level of engineering, architecture and the artifacts.  Most of these were 2000-3000 years old.  BC.  Before Christ and well Before Computers. However, it was to be expected on a trip to China.  They were renowned for this rich history and culture.  However the extent of it was mind blowing.

But what one didn’t expect was clean streets.  There was someone sweeping and picking up rubbish all the time.  The streets were really CLEAN.  For a county with such a large population I expected it to be dirty.  But I was wrong.

I believe our first visit was to the Yu Garden.  As per history, this garden was a gift from a son to his father.  That was one expensive fathers day gift.  It was really stunning.  Although not so peaceful as it was intended to be, as the place was rather crowded.  From sleepy Adelaide to this population explosion was something new to get used to.  Little did I know this wasn’t bad as what was in store for us later in the tour.



Every tile, every corner of the roof was filled with  detail.



We were given some free time to wonder around the little market we had just walked through.  However, it was too hot for my liking. The night before I had asked Sophie our tour guide if it was possible to see a tea ceremony and she gave us the option of doing the tea ceremony or the shopping.

So, I opted for a tea ceremony rather than shopping in the heat.  Some others joined me.

Some of the characters from our tour group

yes they had lots of tea pots

Tea ceremony was free however we all left with a small purchase for a small fortune. The power of holiday purchase.  I did enjoy the teas however, not sure if I needed to pay so much.

The following photos are from the old town, near Yu garden


Next stop was the Shanghai Tower.  The tower gives you the  opportunity to see the extent of the concrete structures, sea of apartments and just the explosion of development.  It also gives you a clear view of the pollution they face.  The day was not overcast.  This was apparently a good day.



The building known as the Bear Bottle.


of course next to the bear bottle stands the bottle opener



Then it was time for a ride on the Maglev Train.  A magnetic levitation Train Line.




The day was coming to a close and the final agenda was a trip to The Bund and then a night cruise from the Bund.



We were given some free time to wonder around by ourselves.  Our initial search was for a place to get a nice cool drink.  But accidentally stumbled on to this amazing building.  It is in fact a bank.  The Old HSBC Bank.  But it felt like I had entered the Sistine Chapel.  It is still an operating bank.  So we casually went in and exchanged some currencies as well.



As night fell we boarded the cruise.




Shanghai looks pretty darn nice at night too.

Good night all.

Posted in travel

The Ganesan’s in the Orient 3


Travelling is the part I don’t like about travelling.  I mean the packing and all the last minute running around and then finally the transit, especially if it is a long flight. To finally make that eye contact with our tour guide was such a great relief.

It had been a tumultuous couple of months personally and professionally for both hubby and me.  We were both looking forward for this holiday and at the end we thought it wasn’t really going to happen with all the uproar in Hong Kong.   It felt almost surreal to be on a foreign land and to think that, I had finally dragged my workaholic husband to switch off and relax for a fortnight.

Mmm… that belief lasted all of 24 hrs before I realised that “switch off and relax” was not part of the deal.   Another topic for another day.



Shanghai was our first stop in China.  We met with our National Tour Guide Sophie and local tour guide Grace and the others of our tour group.  The first day was meant to be a day to take it easy until dinner time.  We met with Alan and Rosemary, Veronica and Robyn and after that most of the other names were a bit of a blur.  As days went by and the tour progressed we all got to know, not just the names but their quirks as well. So for the next fourteen odd days twenty one individuals from different parts of the world and from different walks of life, toured together with laughter, banter and mate ship.

Sophie our National tour guide was a pocket rocket, she was super efficient and worked tirelessly day and night for us to have the best time.  She was also impressed with my vocabulary of Mandarin words and phrases that I had picked up watching Chinese dramas on Netflix.  My regular vegetable purchases are from a Chinese/Vietnamese owned Market type shop.  I had made friends with one of the ladies there and I did practice my Chinese with her prior to my visit to China.

In my days of sailing with my husband, I used to read up about the country we are about to embark and learn at least a few phrases from their native tongue.  It makes a world of difference with the locals.  They appreciate our efforts, even when we make mistakes, they still love the fact that you had taken the time to learn about them.  In contrast, I feel that in English speaking countries, the foreigner is looked down upon for not pronouncing right or not getting it right.  Knowing this fact, it still didn’t stop me from taking photos of all the faux pas of where direct translation had gone wrong.


I have a habit taking detours while writing.  I just realised other than a photo of Shanghai nothing else has been written about Shanghai so far.

If you require details of age, size, historical dates, population etc I suggest that you use  “Google”, since all of us outside of China have access to Google.  Yes, that is another fun fact about China, no Google or Facebook access.  They have their own social media and google type search engine.  But No Google.

We stayed 3 jam packed days in Shanghai.  This is – Shanghai through my eyes.

Day one – we arrived at the hotel around lunch time.  After settling into our room and a good yarn with Sophie where I sprung her with surprise when I bid her goodbye at the lift with “Zai Jian”.  She ended up following us to our room to finish the conversation and also to check if the room was good etc.

We then ventured out on our own to get some lunch.  We managed to order some dumplings by pointing to the pictures on the wall.  Then we saw the adjoining table eating something like wonton soup.  So we ordered that too.  It came with a lot side dishes, we had no idea what to do with them.  So we copied our neighbors.  It was delicious.  Just simple honest food.  Payment was by the vendor showing the numbers on the calculator.  The entire menu which is all of six items were on the wall with a barcode next to it.  We observed that most paid with their phone using this barcode.  Yes, they still practice Tai Chi but have embraced technology as well.

Day 2 – started with a long lecture/speech by Sophie and Grace of all the do’s and don’ts, and including some of the local cultures and customs.

So Grace explained that most Chinese used scotting toilets, hard beds and hard pillows before the introduction of tourism.  Some of the old folk still used a piece of hard wood or brick as their pillow.  They preferred hard beds as they feel that it is better for their back.  The jury is out on that for me as I prefer softer beds, on the contrary my husband prefers hard beds and blames the soft mattress for his bad back.  (obviously the pot belly is not to be blamed for the bad back).  So most public toilets used to be scotting toilets but now due to tourism they would have at least a few western toilets in most places.  Grace went on to tell us how in the villages the toilets were usually outside, one or two toilets to be shared among a few houses, some may not even have a door.  So it was a common practice for them to sing while in the toilet as a sign to say “I am here”.  Hence it also got dubbed as the “Happy house”.  This became our phrase too.

Shanghai is dubbed as the Paris of the East.  I have not been to Paris, but somehow I don’t think this is it.  However, it is a beautiful city where the old colonial Architecture and the modern sea of concrete apartments adorn the streets side by side.

As the first city to land on in China, we were amazed at the speed of development that has occurred  in a very short span of time.  And still going on.  The local joke is Shanghai’s famous bird is the “Crane”


View from the Shanghai Tower – yes the air quality – not so great

Yu Garden- A son’s gift to his father

Man doing Tai Chi in the morning – view from our hotel room

Yes their air quality is bad.  China can see evidence of pollution and the need for change.  It may have been and might still be one of the great polluters, but they are working very hard to rectify this.

Time for some sleep now.  The rest about Shanghai tomorrow or when ever time permits next time.  I guess I am back at work now.


Posted in travel, True Story, Inspirational

The Ganesan’s in the Orient – 2

Cont from The Ganesan’s in the Orient – 1 …. https://uma197.wordpress.com/2019/08/31/the-ganesans-in-the-orient-1/

Adelaide airport was calm and no sign of cancelled flights, Cathy Pacific staff looked unmoved and it didn’t seem like the world was going to end any time soon, so we decided to board the plane and go to China.

After 9 long hours of discomfort and boredom we arrived in Hong Kong. The airport looked deserted. All shops and service counters were closed. And definitely no sign of protesters. Phew!!. We still spent a few more hours of apprehension as there was still no sign of gate allocation for our next flight. About 40 minutes to spare we finally get the gate allocation and we board the flight to Shanghai.

Ni Hao Shanghai

The Ganesan’s touch down.

The earth roared and the sun emerged. A red carpet adorned the air bridge.

China was waiting for us. It could’ve been just turbulence and sun may have just risen as it was the morning, but we will never know if the show was for the benefit for the Ganesan’s. It was disappointing that Xi Jinping did not come to greet us, but we are not one to hold grudges, with everything that was on his plate we could certainly understand. Also we wanted to blend in, not bring attention to ourselves. Please, enough with the paparazzi.

But there was no chance of blending in, every turn there were big signs that blared out “FOREIGNER” and we were continually directed to those lines and queues. We see two tunnels – “To Declare” and the other “Nothing Declare”.  Just when we were going to head towards the “Nothing to Declare”, we were shooed off to “Declare”.  There was no time or opportunity to explain, we in fact had nothing to declare.  The guy (the officer) could see and comprehend what we were trying to say but he sternly pointed towards “Declare”.  Such a contrast to the Australian airports.  Over here in Aus you get the feeling they just want you to sod off, unless you are bringing in food, especially bananas or a dog, they just want you to get on with it.  The other difference is that, other than in Australia all other airport officials have a thing about smiling.  It is almost like if they smile or make eye contact somehow they might jeopardize the security system.  But honestly I feel more safe in our airports than anywhere else.  Pretty sure they catch all the real criminals, however they don’t feel the need to put the fear of god in every passenger for no reason. Every time I see that stern face I get the urge to tell “Just chill mate, just breath in and breath out”. 

I had gone off the tangent once again.  We slowly got through each section. I was alarmed when I realised that I was going to be finger printed. I had a choice, to argue that it was a violation of my privacy or just get on with it and enter China. Obviously I chose the latter. Losing all the money I had spent to come to China vs holding on to my rights, I realised holding on to one’s rights was so overrated. But on my return I heard from my son that he was finger printed in LA and Canada. I think it’s an argument/topic for another day.

Finally coming out to a sea of people at the arrival gate was such a relief. I skim through all the signs and posters from those who had come to pick up passengers and finally see the sign, “Wendy Wu Tours”.




Posted in travel

The Ganesan’s in the Orient – 1

Life kept throwing curve balls at us. I know we weren’t alone or privileged for these interruptions however, it can be pretty draining and you can tend to forget you are still the lucky one and there are many who are worse off. “Why me?” was certainly threatening to raise it’s ugly head.

We realised that we needed a re-charge and decided that a vacation was in order. I am always ready for travel, but uprooting the other half from work can be rather challenging. But this time he obliged. Anyway after much two and fro with travel dates and travel destinations, we finally made the selection – 14 Days tour of China.

The trip was booked months ahead. So we planned to lose weight and get fit as we had a fair bit of walking and climbing involved. Great plan but the follow through and execution went into negative figures. There were many valid reasons – it was a cold winter, we had to entertain people, we could always start next month, we just love food, yep like I said we had very valid reasons for not achieving our goal.

I also promised not to buy any more shoes but then again I realised, when you break one promise, breaking another is just that much easier. I am also a person who has a very strong sense of community. I believe that everything starts with that one person. I stop buying shoes -> shoe shop loses revenue -> shop assistant loses her job and it just keeps going. So yes, I soon realised that was a very irresponsible promise and for the good of the society and its running economy I discarded the idea of not buying shoes.

I was so glad that we were not preparing to do the Kokoda Track, else we would be in serious trouble. Finally the day gets closer and as per Mr Muphy’s Law all things that should not happen were happening and all things that should happen were not happening.

We were transiting through Hongkong and things were brewing between China and HongKong in the leading week but on the day we were flying out, to be exact 2 hours prior to us leaving for the airport, we get news that demonstrators have gone into the Hong Kong international airport and many flights had been cancelled.

After numerous calls to travel agent it was clear as mud that I was just overreacting. -one wondered and advised me that it was not necessary to panic, she also explained that they will keep me updated if things get worse. I realised a 9 hour flight directly to HongKong within the next 2 hours was nothing to worry about. Even if I was going to be mid air knowing I would get updates from my travel agent really made me relax.

Armed with all this information overload we left for the airport.

Posted in True Story, Inspirational

Three years of blogging

A message pops up to say that it has been 3 years since I started to blog on wordpress. I haven’t written/blogged much in the recent times. I have missed writing so much. I have wanted to, but been afraid what might pour out.

I reflect, my website hasn’t changed much in the last 3 yrs. I should update my “about” page, I should work my menu tab. My website is almost a reflection of the house renovations that needs a revisit. Just like my house renovations, the website might have to wait too.

Looking back at the last 3 yrs of blogging/writing, I would like to think that I have grown as a writer, as an individual learning about the world and it’s citizens. Some quirky characters have followed my blog, and in the same way I found myself drawn to some blogs that were very out there by individuals I would have not come in contact normally.

I had a blogger who writes about Dante, who became a follower who commented on my measly writing/blog. He still time to time, pops up with a comment or two. I did ask him what he was doing in my nook and he responded that there are many Dante’s amongst us but not everyone gets the notoriety. Ooo… I felt six feet tall that day.

I found myself following an 19 year old Prisoner from somewhere in the USA. I don’t know what he is in for, but he should switch his weapon to a pen, it’s a pretty mighty one.

My favourite go-to blog has to be Rabbit Patch Diary. Written by a dear old soul. It’s a place I go to when I am troubled, a place where I go to when I need to just relax, it is definitely my little escape. https://rabbitpatchdiary.com/

In the last 3 yrs of blogging, I have poured my heart out and I have opened up some old wounds, I have been vocal about politics and politicians, I have been whimsical, I have been dark and I have taken you on my travels. It really has been a great nook for me explore, express and just chill.

Today I would like to leave you’ll with this song lyric by Bob Marley,

Don’t worry about a thing, cause every little thing is going to be alright”

This song, these lyrics are speaking volumes to me today. We have to believe that life may have it’s twists and turns, but it will work out at the end. We need the sun and the rain. Usually one follows the other. The reality is, there is no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Life’s cycle just keeps turning. Like night and day one follows the other. Even when we don’t want one or the other, it still keeps following one another. Even if the night was filled with nightmares, it will soon be morning.

So, “Don’t worry about a thing, cause every little thing is going to be alright”

Thank you to all those who read my blog and commented and encouraged. Thank you for all the support.

Just remember “its going to be alright” I shall remember that too.

Posted in True Story, Inspirational

Everyday is a blessing

After my last rant on my last blog, I have been reluctant to write. Afraid what might pour out. To a certain extent ashamed of my outburst. I have had my fair share of hurdles in the past to overcome and I am usually calm and collected and take it on my stride. I am usually someone who listens to logic. This time my behavior surprised me, almost scared me. It really troubled me not to be in control.

Every word, any word uttered by my husband annoyed me. He was giving me logical solutions. He couldn’t understand, that I was well aware of the logic, I was well aware of all the data, the probabilities, but I just couldn’t control my emotions. My brain kept going into a very negative nook.

My eldest living in another state and at that time my youngest in the UK didn’t help the situation. I didn’t want to discuss this with the youngest until he got back home. Which made my skype calls very strained. Each time he asked me the most common greeting/question “How are you? how are things?” I found it difficult to answer and I feared that he may sense the discomfort.

Hubby gradually understood that I didn’t need solutions and reminder of logic, I just needed a one way sounding board. The boys took the news much better than I expected. Even though I still feel guilty that I carry this mutated gene that I may have passed it on to them, they don’t feel that way. But I have accepted the fact the first step is for the boys to be tested – tested to see if they carry the gene. There is no point in worrying about the next stage until that. Next thing I have to vehemently tell myself is, the boys need me, I cannot drop the ball now.

My workaholic hubby made a booking for a weekend getaway to Cape Jervis and that really did help and hurry along the calming process. In my next blog I will talk about Cape Jervis and surrounds, it is indeed a magical part of South Australia.

My eldest is back from Sydney and today is the D-Day for the test. We took the boys to Willunga Hill yesterday to have lunch at ‘Our Place’

Beautiful drive, spectacular scenery, Food – simply divine, Andy – the chef and host – such a character. To be there as a family and enjoy all this was blissful. Even then at the back on my mind, I was worrying about the boys. The two get along so well, they are both just gorgeous boys, there was so much laughter and banter. I was forcing myself to have a good time too. I kept reminding myself that everyday is a blessing.

I guess it is normal for me to be jittery today. But I am not going to let my emotions get the better of me.

I am going to listen to hubby (for a change). Yes, he is right, we’ve never had it easy, but we have always submerged, maybe gasping for breath but always submerged and we have come out it. I may have to paddle a bit harder for this times rapid current. But I will keep paddling. It is all going to be alright at the end.

Posted in True Story, Inspirational

Sri Lanka in turmoil, the power of the people

Since the recent uprisel in Sri Lanka, I have questioned , do I open my mouth or not. And I had opted to keep my mouth shut. But today finally I feel like I need to say something. Bare with me with typos, left handed typing.
Recently I accepted an invite on LinkedIn from a CEO of a similar Industry person from Sri Lanka. His surname suggests that he is Sinhalese. Then I got a personal message that said something along the lines of that I am having a great time living in Australia while everyone is suffering in Sri Lanka. Without going into too much detail the tone was of arrogance and annoyance. I didn’t reply to him. As I didn’t feel I needed to give any more fuel to this. But honestly what I wanted to say and I have felt this way many a times, each time I go into hospital here and the service is so great, I think “thank God the Sinhalese kicked me out of that country, I am lucky”
I feel angry, I feel more angry at the people more than at the politicians. I feel disappointed. Do you think Rajapakse’s are the only reason why Sri Lanka is the way it is. When I saw my friend carrying a placard that said “you made us fear the Tamils” I wanted hug her and cry Sanja Herath . You herald Gota as a war hero while our people cried out to the world begging to stop the war crimes. When Sinhala only rules were brought in Tamils had similar peaceful protests(1970’s) They were attacked by the politicians and by the Buddhist monks. Do you think Tamils woke up one day and decided that they needed a separate state. They were driven to that. The entire country watched by while Tamils were burnt alive in cars and homes, I have friends who were forced to watch their brothes and dad to be piled with tyres and burnt. There were father’s who had to watch their daughters being raped. The words still echo in my ears – first press conference during the 1983 riots JR Jayewardene comes and says “Sinhala people reacted” he didn’t condemn the act. I am wrong in saying the entire country watched, there we’re many Sinhalese who were appalled by it helped their neighbours and friends. Not sure if they opposed the Government stance on the Sinhala Buddhist nation but they didn’t want their friends harmed.

People of Sri Lanka were hoodwinked into thinking that the Government was just killing the terrorists. The biggest terrorists were the government. In my opinion I think Australia knew what was going on but chose to make a deal with the devil (Namal and Gota) to win the elections here ” stop the boats”. That is the sad story of any minority in any nation.
How could you legally discriminate the Tamils, media vise standardisation is nothing but legal discrimination. How is that I have more rights in a country I was not born in than a country that my heritage spans to over 2000 years. Yes it was more than 2000 years so BC is when Tamils came from South India to Sri Lanka.
Corruption – yes I will agree politicians swindled the country. Each government not just the Rajapakse’s. Each one of them was a Ali Hora. But were they the only ones stealing in that country. Every person who could make a side buck did so. You couldn’t build a house without bribing all and sundry for each permit. Any thing and everything it has become the norm to bribe and to accept a bribe. On this we were very similar, Tamils, Sinhalese, Muslims everyone took bribes. My Dad would yell at me if I took a pen from his work place. But many would fulfil their stationery needs of their entire family from the office. It has just come to Roost now.
For Sri Lanka to have a future, a serious cultural, mental attitude change has to happen across all religions and races. Everyone needs to take responsibility. Every time you get hoodwinked by the politicians for your personal gain think long term, think if it’s fair for all.


Good luck to the people. People power. Power to the people.