On the plane before it took off I asked my mom to smile for my blackberry camera. “Okay Mom, look up here! One. Two. Three. Smile!” and I pressed the space bar button to take the picture. I turn the camera’s screen towards my mom for her to see our picture and lowe and behold, the flash was so bright that she blinked. Her eyes were closed in our picture. So I asked her again, this time I turned the flash off and didn’t tell her. “okay lets try this again mom. One. Two. Three. Smile!” and I pressed the space bar button once again to take our picture. I turn the blackberry screen around to see the picture. “Mom! why did you look in the other direction! Why didn’t you look at the camera? I turned the flash off just for you!” I asked. “I found a way to take a picture without my eyes closing! The picture turned out so nice!” she replied laughing.


Posted in travel | Tagged , , , , , , | 5 Comments


I hope someone falls in love with me soon. Before I turn 30. I just want to feel the deliciousness of being loved and adored. If someone has ever fallen in love with you, you really should know how lucky you are. Smile because your life is complete, you have meant something to someone. You still mean something to me even if my love is unrequited.

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments

last minute

Yesterday I arrived at YYZ airport ready for my trip to Prague. After checking in my checked luggage and feeling rather proud of myself that my suitcase was 7kgs under the maximum weight allowance (you might be wondering why such an everyday task is celebratory. This is understandable. Please allow me to explain. I am Punjabi. I’m glad I could clear that up for you). I then took a seat near our boarding area looking at the sushi restaurant, tempted to reward my amazing packing skills with avacado rolls. I saw a lady apply her lipstick and it reminded me to do the same. I began to look through my purse for my lipstick. I packed this brilliant plum Revlon lipstick with me and thought a little touch-up would be nice then I realized that I forgot my chapstick at home. I had no lip moisturizing agent with me to ease my chapped lips! This is the universe laughing at my last minute packing and not forgetting to remind me of just how single I am. I scrapped the thought of rewarding myself with sushi because clearly I am able to pack under the weight limits but it’s probably only because I forgot to pack essentials, like chapstick. Paranoid at just the thought of how my 8 hour plane ride would be like without my chapstick with my lips one hundred thousand gazillion feet up in the air -42 degree weather I got up and walked to the duty free shop. Annoyed at having to spend money on such a silly mistake, I told myself that this purchase will be worth it. Dissapointed at the lack of choices (I had 3) which included the Chapstick brand and Nivea’s brand which I have used before but didn’t deliver the advtertised promose, I picked the slightly expensive vegan brand that I had never heard of before called Bare English and Co. and cashed out. It smells like vanilla coconut, is infused with green tea, 100% organic and 100% Canadian (made on Adelaide Street West, Toronto). This chapstick works! Not only are my lips soft and mouisturized again after 8 hours in the air but this lip balm makes for a very nice base to apply lipstick, making for a smooth application and locked in protection which is important so that your lips don’t appear cracked. I love this chapstick!

And here it is. oh and here is a picture of my hotel keys that remind me of my hotel keys in Mumbai. And this is my favorite watch in the world. I ordered from the MET in New York City.


Posted in travel | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

YYZ to PRG in less than 5 minutes!

traveling with my mom to Europe for the second time this year! my life is a dream.


Image | Posted on by | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

one more sleep until Prague!

just one more!

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

an August day

It was an ordinary August afternoon. I was working at my Father’s shop during the weekend while my Father was at home enjoying his two days off. I phoned him to see what he was up to and he told me that he was relaxing, leisurely gardening colourful per-annuals in the backyard and trying to control the visible green algae which blanketed his new backyard fish pond. The algae multiplied unexpectedly over the past few weeks, taking over the pond and turning his little oasis into a sea of green. The algae made the pond look less like a pool of fresh clear water and more like a deep pool of split pea soup.

I stood there at the shop behind the counter disinterested in everything around me, bored of doing nothing while consciously ignoring all the little tasks that needed to be complete before close such as straightening displays, vacuuming and dusting the shelves. Instead of doing actual work that was expected of me I’d stand for a while and then sit down and then stand up again. Going back and forth between the two until a fresh batch of customers came in, in which case I would walk around the store pretending the look busy waiting to be approached for help. The only thing that occupied my mind was lunch. I couldn’t decide weather I wanted ma-pao tofu with vegetable fried rice rice or a vegetarian sub as both were my favourites. I was leaning towards the sandwich because it didn’t require the use of utensils.

I felt like Sisyphus except only I wasn’t doing anything remotely close to pushing a boulder up and down a mountain only to to wait and see it roll down again. But I was involved in a rather futile activity except only it didn’t involve strenuous movement as a result of condemnation. I was repeatedly sitting and then standing and then sitting and then standing, not being able to commit to one posture. I guess if you think about it, it could as exercise! Still contemplating about what I will have for lunch I would occasionally looking out the window wishing that I wasn’t cooped up inside the shop that smelt like agarbathees and India. On one hand I felt imprisoned but on the other hand I felt free, free from having to help my Dad in the backyard where I would eventually sneeze up up a storm, have an allergy attack as a result of my encounter with nature and pass out after taking drowsy allergy relief medication. I guess being in the shop was better than suffering from itchy eyes and a leaky nose which would inevitably cause me to look like Rudolph the red nose reindeer six months early.

I was sitting on my rather uncomfortable basic chair studying my phone, reading tweets from strangers that I follow when a family of four entered the shop. I acknowledged them with a Hello and folding my hands in a Namaste. Greeting them in both traditional English that reflected the salute of a country that I was born and raised in and the traditional language of a country whose set of practices that despite my facticity I will not part with. Although I was born in a Sikh household, I greeted my guests in their customs. The family was Indian. I could tell by the powdered red tika adorned on their forehead worn for special religious occasions that they were Hindu. My eyes began to study the family who were dressed in traditional Indian clothing, they must have decided to visit our shop after a worship at the temple I thought to myself as I looked at them slowly walk around the store adoring our collection of traditional art, handicrafts and home decor sold at a prices which would appear to be a rip off to anyone born in India. I could almost sense that any moment they would begin to convert the dollar prices listed on the merchandise into Indian rupees, quietly thinking to themselves that these goods would be less than half the cost back home.

The family appeared to be a mom, dad, brother and sister. I let them walk around the shop in peace, careful not to disturb them. Giving them ample time to engage themselves with the space, the shelves and tables filled with Indian imports collected from various cities that would immediately fill anyone with nostalgia. I waited for a reaction in their body language to reflect hints of a wistful desire to return to a former glorious time in their life back home before they were immigrants to a foreign land. I waited for the moment where they would pick up an item which would remind them of their childhood. A time of happiness that they would momentarily yearn to be reunited with. I waited for them to pick up the old rotary dial phone and show their kids how telephones used to look like when they were younger. How they would have to use their finger to turn a wheel until it stopped in order to make a phone call which is now replaced with a simple touch screen.

I stood there looking at the family almost about to go up to them to see if they needed any help when the son, a young man approached me to ask me a question. “Excuse me” he said. “Where can I find a case for this, my phone?” he asked holding out his smart device. I told him that he should try a mobile phone store a few shops down. He smiled at me indicating that he was thankful for my informative response and he walked away. I noticed through our brief interaction from the way he spoke that he had a developmental impairment, one that seemed present from birth. He was tall, had beautiful black hair, wore sneakers, jeans and a t-shirt and spoke slowly with a little difficulty. I could hear that he had trouble making certain sounds.

I continued to stand there resting my back against the clear glass counter, messing up my hair and then straightening it out again with my fingers only to mess it back up again. I looked at my wrist at my Seiko 5 wondering when it would be an appropriate time to go for lunch, still not having made up my mind about where I would eat. The young man shyly walked in my direction. I thought that perhaps he wanted to walk past me to get to the other side of the shop so I took a couple of steps and walked around the counter to give him comfortable space. Except only he didn’t walk past me but came up to occasionally smiling to himself and then lowering his head. I smiled politely acknowledging that he was in my personal space but not quite sure if was going to walk from me any second or ask me a question. With the smile still glued on my face he looked back up at me and then looked immediately back down. With his eyes studying the light cream tiled floor he rain his hands down the back of his head and smiled once again. Adorably shy, I could sense that he wanted to say something but I couldn’t predict what was on his mind. He looked straight at me with a look of friendliness in his eyes. “Excuse me” he said with a brief pause and then continued, his eyes looking up at me and then back down. “You look beautiful” he said with a smile that stretched from ear to ear. In that moment when his words, unexpected to me fell upon my ears I could feel my heart begin to melt, my mind finally stopped thinking. There was not even a tiny space for doubt. “Thank you” I replied. He took his time to pronounce his words and he spoke exactly what was on his mind.

Posted in Blogging | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment


The problem with a midnight “snack” is that it turns into a midnight lunch.

Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment