MANASVI SHARMA BAWA

“Quit. Don’t quit. Noodles. Don’t noodles. You are too concerned with what was and what will be. There’s a saying: “Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That is why it is called the “present”. ~ Master Oogway

Master Oogway is one wise turtle. He is my go to turtle for advice too. (I am not kidding, you know who you are.)

Hello!

It is Week 2 in the land down under and yes, it has been a tumultuous one. Before I begin o tell you what I have been upto, I must tell you how I go about doing this weekly update thing. I observe (stalk, subtly) and note down every single thing. So if you see me anywhere in Sydney, know that I am probably writing stuff about you in my “little black book”. I look like this.

For reals.

Moving on, my week that was. I have learn’t quite a few things on my travels to Australia, one of them being the fact that these people are absolutely and totally different from us Indians. They prefer the quite, we don’t. They drive sensibly, we don’t. They love the sun, we don’t (ask fair and lovely). They like calm even when conducting a business meeting, we sure as hell do NOT.

So amongst all these differences, here I am, just like a gazzilion other “immigrants” looking for a nook I can fit into and start building. As I mentioned, my note making habit is one way to get the ball rolling in that direction. If I observe I learn. You see? You see!

“Observing” can also be a pain and I experienced it first hand. I took the wrong train and there went my title of Miss. SOD (Sense of Direction) as the husband calls it. Upon realizing how mightily I had messed up, I looked around to ask someone the way and it suddenly hit me, you don’t do that here. I mean you can, but there are screens all over the place and unless you are 80 years old or are unable to read, you can find your own way. Who is independent? ME! Who doesn’t ask for directions? ME! Who lands up two stations away? ME! ME! ME!

This train ride to the city was just getting better (not) by the way. As I sat in one corner with my nose in my book while the lady next to me applied a full face of makeup (WOW, jealous for being a frump) there came a loud noise. I turned around only to see a big Indian Sikh gentleman entering the train talking loudly in Punjabi bitching about his wife. I laughed. While the other passengers gave him a look I was the only one who could understand what he was saying and it was hilarious! Let’s just say they were the kind of euphemisms that you do not want to hear from your husbands mouth. (Wash that mouth with soap Sir!) As I sat there giggling, also pretending to be “irked by this disturbance” while cursing this man for tarnishing the names of brown people all over, there came an even louder noise of women chattering away. I was sure it had to be a “desi”.

‘Lo and behold, it was NOT. These really really loud women were not brown, probably Russian or abouts (Yes, I am generalizing on the basis of Z’s in their conversation. Bad joke but,  no they did not have vodka in one hand and potatoes in the other. Stereotyping much?!). Now, take a moment please and bask in the happiness. It wasn’t a brown person making all that noise. WHAAAAAA!!! Also, these women could put any Indian to shame at the decibel levels they were hitting. The chatter even drowned out the Sikh gentlemen. WHAAAA!! But, I would like to say, the other white people did not leave a chance to stare these women down either for making the raucous. Good on you, Australian Citizens! (that sounded very dictatorial, I know)

All of you reading, if you have reached this far in the post, high 5! You deserve a chocolate, so please go get one and eat it from my side. No this is not a plot to make the whole World fat. No. Yes. NO. (Hehe).

My life does get more interesting though, in the week that went by I managed to spot pretty things in the city. Sydney is quite a beauty and I refuse to think otherwise. But for me it is a little odd as well. Why? NO ONE STARES HERE! Now now, I am not sad about that. I love it. I rejoice. But from where I come, staring a part of life. You stare at men and women irrespective. You stare at them till they don’t give you a dirty look and you still continue. I have had my share of creepies. And to come here and look however you want, wear whatever you want and yet not be stared at? LIBERATING.

The week had me eating “Indian Street Food” (which was horrible) at Paramatta, driving the car around the suburbs (I was bad, them rules bruh! No, it was just me. Pbfft!) Spotting hindi cinema decor. (Yes, that is a thing) Exciting times.

That being said, there is a dark side to all this too. Which I will now address and then maybe make a joke about it (I think I just sounded like a minister back there, no?) Back in India, you are all somebody, you get things done by hook or by crook. Here things are different. The struggles are very different. I haven’t even started on the struggle path as yet, someday I will, but they can really get to you. Finding the right job, finding any job, being surrounded by family and friends, making a homely ecosystem for yourself. There is so much. I bow down to every single person who has done this in their lives because standing at the cusp of “change” I am glad I have my Mister along for the journey, most people have no one.

So yes, you will see not just the good but also the bad and the ugly in the future posts. What I will be doing though is to make the bad and ugly awesome. *Hallelujah* I now feel like an African American lady with a swag clicking her fingers and making that one hand gesture. Totally legit. Totally.

Oh. Also, I was on the lookout for a phool jhadu (Indian Broom). Update, I FOUND IT. Okay. Excitement. For real. Okay.

So, that was my week. There was so much more but I think this here has made it to the top, too bad other stories try harder the next time. (HA HA)

Keep a tab on my journey of surviving and possibly making a place for myself and you might just get to laugh your butts off. Oh wait, I am sure you will.

Until then stay tangled, will you?

xoxo

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