Blessed

It has been a month since my birthday and I was recalling how I was finishing up a last minute assignment the night before. I had a long day at university and I rushed home to get on with my assignment. I finished it up at 11:45 and was ready to pass out on bed. I am glad I called before I did but I am quite sure even if I hadn’t, you would have called at midnight. Because you had remembered it was my birthday when I had forgotten.

I was sleepy azz and wished you good night but you wouldn’t let me hang up. You kept talking when all I could respond with was hmmm and yeah. You pleaded to stay awake for 4 more minutes which confused my already sleep-deprived brain. Normally you put me to sleep but not that night. When I asked why, you blabbered with what you had been up to the whole day and when 4 minutes had passed, you suddenly wished happy birthday which woke me nice and proper. Well, also the fact that my phone pinged with notification at the same time, opened my shut eyes and when I rubbed my eyes to respond to you and my phone, I realised that you had sent me a poem. A heartfelt, beautiful and thoughtful poem that not only had you carved from your own thinking, but you had written so elegantly and beautifully. All this was too much for me to handle. The rush of emotions that came from within resulted in tears of happiness and I started weeping in joy. For I felt truly special. And cherished. And although you are miles away, I felt as if you were right next to me. How I wish you were, so you could see my giddy smile and excited heart. For even though, we both have grown old to celebrate birthdays, the gesture made me feel like a child again.

And this is why I say alhumdulillah, I am so lucky to have you.

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Ssshhh

Sneaking in ever so quietly…..

How has everyone been? I missed my internet fam. There have been sweet comments left on my blog by the absolute sweet sisters that made me melt.I shall get back to responding.

I am back. No, I didn’t get married (fortunately) as some had asked if my husband forbade me to blog. I would rather chuck the husband out than my blog. I had gone overseas and returned back to start my Masters (which is what desi girls do when they don’t get married by the end of Bachelors :P). Masters is draining the hell out of me. Classes all five days 9 to 6 with assignments and assessments. Anyway no excuse will justify my long absence. So let me just make it up by letting your Aussie girl inform you about the weird facts of good ol’ Aus you might not know.

1. The fact that toilets and bathrooms don’t come with locks. Not all houses, some, but still. My friend bought this house and one of the toilets doesn’t come with a door!! Apparently you have to pay extra for the toilet door.
2. People in India just drop in without calling. People in Dubai call to let you know they shall be visiting. People in Aus are soo polite that its annoyingly cute. They don’t come. At all. You have to send an invitation and ask them to come because you have started talking to walls. I bet even for my funeral, I shall have to call everyone 2 hours before my imminent death with invitations and ask them to RSVP.
3. Day light savings.
4. That my little cousins attend “colleges” (primary level schooling) and my brother and I attend “schools” (a.k.a universities).
5. That there are alcohol shops next to schools, ahem I mean “colleges”. The two colleges I got to attend here, both had them so I am assuming its a norm for all (Could be wrong. So far no drunk kids spotted.)
6. Return policy : you can return any item (except bedding,cosmetics and used nappies) as long as you have the receipt. This is the main reason why NRI’s here don’t want to go back to India lol.
7. The water that flushes the toilet is as filtered as the water that I drink from tap (Let that sink in.)
8. Almost all shops close by 5 p.m. Worst thing ever. One gets back from work/uni/college/school whatever by evening and the shops are closed. People here don’t sweat about it but as a Dubai mall girl I seem to find it highly unfair that the plaza is open only for housewives.
9. The public transport system is so unreliable that one is forced to force her brothers and parents to drop her off to station so she doesn’t have to wait for 40 minutes for the bus and walk 1 kilometre to home.
10. They make you book in for a doctor’s appointment and call you in an hour late than the scheduled time but when its the other way round and you arrive just 5 minutes late, they have to reschedule your appointment to another day because you are late and they weren’t able to torture you to the maximum one hour they are allowed to.
11. Mcdonald’s also known as Maccas. So when a friend first asked whether I would be interested going to Maccas, I assumed Makkah and stared at her nonplussed. Refused because I hadn’t saved enough money for the pilgrimage when really she was asking whether I would like to hang out for a 4 dollar McFlurry milkshake.
12. The slang language. Barbeque = barbie, afternoon = arvo, etc. There is a whole dictionary full of it and I could write a post just on it.
13. Honey soy chicken chips.Like whaaaat? So its a potato chips chicken flavoured. All good yeah? But no, lets vegetify it and add soy. Make it a little bit healthy. Let the vegetarians taste the goodness of chicken. But wait, what about people with a sweet tooth? Can’t forget them now can we? Ergo honey.
14. Vegemite. Nuff said. For those who want to have a lick at it, I have one that expired a year ago that I received when I got my citizenship and we got it from the council for becoming an Aussie. So you shout Aussie Aussie Aussie Oi Oi Oi (while balancing the Aussie passport on your head) and then scoop a chunk of vegemite and dunk it in. If you can’t eat that scoopful, you aint becoming an Aussie. That’s how Stralians play mate!! We keep that honey soy chicken close and vegemite even closer. (Disclaimer : Not sponsored by Vegemite or the chickens.)
15. Australia is the only country where it is legal to eat the national animal. But I mean kangaroos!!! Why??

Any Aussies reading the post : you can come at me. These are my observations and the intention wasn’t to offend/insult Australia/Australians. I love me my Aussie barbie and we can have a nice chat some arvo.We can have vegemite together too.

Free Bird

She was staring at the ceiling, her mind whirling in a chaotic mess. With blank stares, she felt the tears sliding across her smooth cheeks. Suddenly the door creaked open. Her mum peeked in and whispered if she would like to go somewhere. She said she was fine and turned to the other side. Her mum walked in and patted her head lovingly. Asked her to get ready for a surprise.

She got up and got ready, her mind and heart wandering far away in the unknown. She climbed in the car and stared at the scenery but her mind didn’t process the usual beauty of nature : the dew that formed on the grass, the sky sporting wisps of white clouds and the air that came in bursts. After a while the car stopped and as she turned to look at the destination, her mouth dropped in surprise.

While her friends would rejoice at getting some retail therapy to alleviate stress, she felt nature in its glory was the perfect me time.

She asked her mum if she could be left alone. Her mum agreed and so she scampered quickly to the sand. She kicked off her shoes and let her toes sense the sinking dissolving sand. She bent down to stare at the shells. Marvelling at the intricate designs, she started collecting and placing them on the sand, pushing some deep within so that just a bit peeked through.

There were quite a few fair and white shells, polished and shining. Then there were tiny brown and black ones with markings that seemed to be shying away, hiding in the sand. Perhaps they were afraid that this visitor would reject them like the countless others in favour for the beautiful white ones. She scooped them up lovingly because for her, those markings, those scars made the brown and black shells even prettier. She played with them for a little while and then stood up to observe the water, the sky and the sea. The clouds of mist had vanished long ago and in their place were angry black clouds.Mimicking the state of her mind,they blocked the sun, its light and warmth and as she stood and gazed at the approaching storm, the clouds suddenly gave way and the sun shone through. It became so bright, the reflection of the pure warmth and grandeur of sunlight on water, that she couldn’t take it in. Momentarily blinded by beauty so rare, she was awestruck and speechless. The more she stared, the more it felt the sunlight was rushing through the water and entering in her. Filling her with warmth, inner joy, happiness and peace. The chaos that was her mind, was muffled by the harmonic wavelength of the sunlight.

She heard a kid’s cry and turned to see a little child stumble from a swing. As he got up and ran towards his mum, she ran towards the swing in glee. Picking up her shoes, she climbed onto the swing and started rocking back and forth to gain momentum. Once she felt she was flying, she closed her eyes to feel the breeze passing through her soul. Her mind felt a thousand times lighter. Her body too. She felt she could fly. And fly she did. She jumped from the swing, flung her body in the air and broke into a wide smile. Hurtled down to Earth in a millisecond. But that millisecond was enough for her. She felt euphoric. She looked up and saw a seagull flying high. It kept flying. The gravity wasn’t its enemy.

As she clambered back into the car, she gave a wide smile to her mum. Mum always knew best. The return journey was different. It had started raining and she opened the window a wee bit to feel the drops on her face. It felt as if God was giving her the whole invigoration package. Not only was she rejuvenated on the inside, but the raindrops freshened her up instantly as well.

She came back home and plonked on her bed with a sigh. A while later, she was fast asleep with a content smile.This time the ceiling stared at her.

Images by yours truly 🙂

Shake it Off

So recently a friend of mine got the honour of becoming Australian. She invited me to attend the Citizenship ceremony which I dutifully did, given that she didn’t have family here and hence no one to capture the auspicious moment. My friend along with 50 other people took the oath and pledge and sang to the national anthem. After the whole process got over, the mayor stood up to hand certificates to the newbies and click photos.

I was in the audience observing the excitement rippling among people. Some Indian dudes even rocked up in formal attire with business suits and ties and broad smiles.Indian aunties rocking up Eid and Diwali outfits the whole chammak challo. I am not calling against anyone but it was embarrassing watching all this. India is a stable country. No wars going on as in Syria and other countries. Yes, we are still counted as a third world country but alhumdulillah we are up in the game, technology,financial stability and safety wise. And yet it felt like the room was filled with refugees who were desperate to shed their identity and any links to motherland to be embraced and accepted by the warmhearted and welcoming country.

Anyway the main issue that I wanted to address was this : Australians and when I say that I mean non-Muslim white people, have understood and realised that hijabis equal to no-shaking hands.They are gracious enough to accept and respect the view without taking offense.They know that us hijabis cannot shake hands with a non-mehram male and cannot show the beauty of our hair to non-mehram male. Heaps of other stuff too but the focus today is : not shaking hands. So the mayor is handing out certificates and shaking hands offering congratulations. Next up is a hijabi. Hands get extended. Not the mayor’s. The hijabi’s. That’s right. This hijabi forgot she is a hijabi. People were not only throwing away nationalities but also religion lol. The mayor is confused. This goes against the hijabi code ethic that he has been taught. He had seen her and had dropped his hands to his sides. But she has the palm outstretched. Awkward moment passes by. Actually many moments pass by. He finally gives in and shakes her hand clearly confused as heck.

The funny thing was this hijabi wasn’t even the excited kind.She was calm and collected and assumed she was embracing the Australian culture wholly by this small act. Dear sister, I get it you are frickin excited that you became an Australian. But please shower that excitement on your fathers and brothers and sons aka your mehrams remember? Shake their hands million times over, ain’t no issue. Australians are already confused about Islam as it is. You are not doing anything to clear the confusion. I have a graduation ceremony to attend in December. If hijabis like you stomp up on podiums and shake the mayor’s, the university president’s hands, it is just going to get more difficult for me when I go up there and refuse to shake hand due to “religious reasons”. I ain’t no preacher. I just want a simple life for me.And a simpler life for the poor mayors and principles and other male hand shakers whose views on Islam is distorted due to conflicting attitudes we hijabis give.

***Images and gif courtesy of Google.

On a Serious Note

Eid Mubarak!! Hope you had a great time. I know I am late on the Eid wishing but I was busy on Eid day with guests pouring in all day and the next day I had uni from 8 to 8 so sowwie. Better late than never right?

This Eid was bittersweet given the tragedy that occurred at Mina. My aunt and uncle are at Hajj this year so of course we were anxious to contact them and they are alhumdulillah safe. But of course those martyred at Mina would be someone’s aunts and uncles, someone’s mums and dads. I can’t bear to imagine the feelings of loss those families faced when they heard of their beloved ones passing away and the realisation dawned that they wouldn’t be waiting at the airport to welcome them back with joyous faces.

I guess Eid this year had that effect on everyone. As I logged onto WordPress to read posts on my feed,  people were sharing their feelings of sadness and loss.I tend to avoid thinking about such feelings. I am that girl who will always look cheerful no matter what. Tejas’s post on his cat, Ershad’s post on death,and revels’s thoughtful post on trust made me realise how happy occasions can be marred with feelings of sadness.Death is certain. Death is inevitable.The impact of death is a mental smack. Getting a smack on the face hurts but only for a little while. The pain subsides. But a smack on the heart, you know that feeling where you are feeling numb, your brain feels like it has frozen, because you can’t process anything. The Earth is still rotating, people are still going to office, kids are still getting herded off to school, everyone is laughing,socializing but for you it’s like everything is in slow motion. You are not part of the real world. You are not hungry, you feel no emotions. Just numb. A smack on the heart. And the heart stops beating. No emotions.

I remember the time when someone messaged my dad on Facebook to inform him the death of his friend. A close family friend that had been there from the start when we lived in Dubai.Our families were real close. My dad’s phone popped up with the message’s notification and since the phone was close by, I picked it up to hand it over to my dad. I glanced over and read the message and froze in my tracks. I couldn’t believe it. All day at uni I was remembering the family memories of when that uncle and his family with lovely daughters used to come over. Uncle was a jovial man who had diabetes. His condition had become so serious that the toes of his right leg had to be amputated and he had become blind in his later years. Even so, he was the most cheerful optimistic man who greeted you with utmost warmth when you met him.

My mum was a chemistry teacher at a secondary school in Dubai. When I was 10 years old, her school took the school kids to an island for excursion. It was a 2 day trip so the supervising teachers were allowed to take their children along. And so my brothers and I went along mum to Seer Baniyas island. The trip went amazingly well and everyone was having a great time. While returning, one of the school kids decided to get a bit naughty and ran along, diving head first into the open sea. His friends rushed along with him. Mum and other teachers started calling out for them to come back. And return they did. Except the one. The first one. The pioneer. The mastermind. Everyone started shouting his name to tell him that his prank was not funny, he better show himself up. Little did we all know, he had sunk to the bottom. He had swum to an area where the sand sloped off and as he stood up to breathe in air, his feet gave way and he was lying at the bottom. The outside world was shaking their head, imagining the prankster to show up at any time. As minutes passed away, comments on the idiocy turned to panic and frenzy and the male teachers started diving in. After what seemed like hours, a pearly white body glistening with water and frothing in foam, suddenly appeared from beneath the sea. A helicopter suddenly came in view and the school boy was put in a stretcher and flown over to the nearest hospital. The mood in the bus was eerily quite, everyone muttering and mumbling prayers amid sniffles and tears. After a while, one of the teachers got up and gave a speech that I didn’t understand. But all the girls and teachers started crying audibly. My stomach lurched as I anticipated the news but I still had to know. So I turned to this girl, who was another teacher’s daughter and who I had befriended during the trip, to ask what had happened. The prankster had fooled us. He hadn’t gone to swim, he had gone to die. The anger was great, the anguish even greater. He was my mum’s favourite student.He was a bright and obedient student. Only this time he didn’t obey. And it cost us all. His mum couldn’t bear the shock and slipped into coma. And to this day, we avoid going to beaches. The school disbanded excursions for years.

Time does heal.It has been 12 years since but every time we remember that trip, a pain shoots on the inside.The memory is always there even if it is muffled by the chaos of life.

***Image via Google

Point of appointments??

Recently my mum diagnosed me of the Sleeping Beauty syndrome.I would go to sleep early (well early for me is 12 am) and I would be unconscious till 1 pm except on uni days. Mum would try waking me up but I would be snoozing away in Fairy Land.And even when I woke up, I would feel lethargic all day, yawning in between conversations. For a young girl who only had to attend university 2 days a week, this behavior was slightly getting to my desi mum and hence she decided to book an appointment with the doctor to confirm her doubts.

The appointment was booked at 11:10 on a Tuesday. I was the one who had to make the call. The receptionist asked me all my details, medical history and booked in my appointment for “10 to 11”. I hate such terminologies : quarter to 1, quarter past 3 and all that. I mean why can’t you simply say 11:10 or 12:45 or 3:15. Why complicate it? The world is complicated as it is without people making it even more complicated. After I put the phone down, mum asked me what time did I get and I said 10 to 11. I swear the receptionist DID say 10 to 11 ok. But since my tone was a bit flustered, (I always get nervous when I am talking to a receptionist, or any stranger for that matter), mum decided to double check and called the receptionist the next day before driving me into the clinic. The receptionist says the appointment is booked at 11:10 not 10 to 11. ARRGGHHH!! I mean I know its just like 20 minutes difference but it made me sound like such an idiot.

We reached the clinic at exact time 11:10, the time my appointment IS, the time I am supposed to see the doctor but no, the receptionist smiles and asks me to take a seat. Which I dutifully do. After 10 minutes, mum says she shall go to the nearby Coles and have a look and asks me to call her once I am done. Mum goes, I watch the lounge TV for a couple of minutes, then start browsing my phone going through social media : Twitter,Facebook, etc.30 whole minutes pass and I suddenly realize that I was so engrossed that I might have missed my call. So I go to the receptionist and ask whether my name was called. She looks at her register and says no with a smile. That sickeningly sweet smile.I return to my seat. At 11:50, I hear my name being called out and I jump so quickly that everyone looks at me. The doctor was really sweet and she told me that my tiredness might be due to anemia.I would have to come the next day for a blood test after 8 hours of fasting. Oh joy.

Dear hospital staff, what is the point of appointments if you are just going to waste 40 minutes of my life? The doctor didn’t even apologize for calling me in late which they totally should do. I mean if you and your friend plan to meet up at a set time and one of you arrives late, don’t you apologize? Doctors aren’t even late to clinics. They are IN the clinics, in their cubicles probably playing Solitaire on their computer which is why every patient is waiting out in the lounge for 40 to 50 whole minutes. My younger brother Mikaeel had an ear pain and booked an appointment last week for 8:50 pm and got called in 9:50 p.m. OUTRAGEOUS!!! One time this patient came 10 minutes late for the appointment and the receptionist was like “You are late for your appointment. We shall have to reschedule”. Like whaaaat? If she came in early, the doctor would be late and she would be sitting in the lounge anyway. Might as well spend it in the car amongst traffic.

The whole doctor patient interaction takes about 10 minutes max, the patient leaves, doctors fill in report which takes 10 minutes and then what? Just because we are not emergency patients does not mean you can take your own sweet time. My mum reckons its a gimmick so that the clinics are jam-packed with people in the waiting lounge which shows how popular the clinic is or how good the doctors are for people to be flocking into the clinic. If that is true, then dear hospital staff, if I have a problem or I am writhing in pain, I won’t care about a clinic’s popularity. In fact I shall go to a clinic with fewer people so I can get attended to faster. Let me know what the reason is. It better be a good medical,scientifically proven valid reason because wasting 40 minutes of my life is not funny. Booking in appointments and calling in an hour late is not funny.Your receptionists who smile and say please take a seat when I arrive at time and who get confused between 10 to 11 and 11:10 are not funny.Most importantly the programs you show on TV in the waiting lounge are not funny. No, but seriously, you people should clean up on your act.

Sincerely yours,

A severely tired,mentally exhausted,physically frustrated, angry patient.

Fangirl Loses Her Fan Moment

Fangirls are in. Obsessing over a celebrity/books/movies is cool. I hadn’t realised that I was turning into the stereotypical obsessive girl who is fancrazy over a celeb until recently. Who has heard of Lilly Singh, aka Superwoman on Youtube? Put yo hands up in support. Oh wait, I can’t see you. Let me know in the comments below then. And if you don’t know who this awesomesauce chick is you most definitely live under a rock because she has 6 million subscribers on Youtube and if you are not among those 6 million, you better re-evaluate your life.

So Superwoman is in Australia at the moment. Sydney specifically which is a total bummer as I live in Melbourne. She is here to attend the YouTube fanfest along with other Youtubers such as Bethany Mota,Jenna Marbles,Lauren Curtis among many others.Superwoman is an all-rounder entertainer which basically means she does rants, collabs, skits (I love her parents especially her dad Manjeet, sorry Lilly I love you too but Manjeet is extra special and extra funny) and songs. She also vlogs which I watch dutifully especially since she is in Sydney so I need to monitor her movements in case she announces that she might be popping into Melbourne. What I didn’t realise is that she uploads her vlogs a day late.

I have late classes on Wednesdays and I leave home at 12 p.m to attend my 1:30 lecture. I was still in bed at 10:30 am when my phone buzzed. I picked up the phone to check who was texting and one my friends had texted that Superwoman was at Southern Cross Station a.k.a the very station I get off at for university a.k.a SUPERWOMAN WAS IN MELBOURNE!!! I lost it.

She hadn’t announced in her vlogs or even teeny tiny hinted about it (the vlog in which she said she would be coming over was uploaded after she had come and gone).Now even if I got ready in a supersonic speed and reached Southern Cross (an hour away from my home) I wouldn’t be able to meet her and I was soooo mad. I don’t know if I have the right to be mad at Superwoman. But I was mad. At myself. Soo many emotions. I had the chance to meet Superwoman and I lost it. I was the hysterical fangirl. I was a fangirl. I had morphed into those fangirls and I hadn’t even known and you know what? I am not ashamed.

   
 At least I was able to stand at the same spot as her. Above photo is mine and below is Superwoman’s taken from her fb.

***Feature image and gifs courtesy of Google Image

The Yes Girl

I haven’t watched Jim Carrey’s Yes Man but my friend was telling me it was about this guy who says no to everything and then goes to this seminar thing where he is told that in order to truly live life, he should start saying yes. So he does that, he starts saying yes to each and every opportunity and his life changes for the better. Sorry for the spoiler but the movie is quite old I believe and those of you who would have wanted to watch it would have already done so and those like me who haven’t, well, if you’re reading this, it’s too late (geddit? Drake reference?)

I am the opposite of Jim Carrey’s character. I can’t say no. I am the actual yes girl. And I hate that. It has gotten so bad that now when I say no to a plan or a suggestion, people look at me surprised, they can’t fathom the fact that my mouth actually formed into an O and produced the no sound when they are accustomed to me saying yes. And while everyone is blinking their eyes,still unable to comprehend, I get all flustered and reply “Ok yeah, let’s do it.” So, in the end, I end up acquiescing to whatever’s up.

It’s not that I am getting forced or people drag me. It’s the fact that I feel I am getting forced into doing something. And I often question why I can never say no. Is it because I am a people pleaser? Or is it because I am a don’t want to offend people-er? I like to believe that I am the latter. I care way too much for people’s feelings. And no, I am not complaining. I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone intentionally or not. But I have realized you can’t really please everyone.And even if you try, you don’t end up pleasing yourself. Which comes back to what I am trying to put across : Saying yes to every one and everything, even if you don’t want to doesn’t make you happy. But saying no sounds stuck-up and selfish.

For as long as I remember, my friends would come up with something, like going somewhere or working together in a group project and suggesting an idea, and while I would try to explain why it wasn’t such a good idea or something to improve to get better grades, they would just override it and continue doing what they liked. And it left me with feelings of anguish and helplessness because hey, I am getting graded for the assignment as well and I know that your idea is not good,so shut up and listen to mine but majority rules and damn it, the majority’s opinion suck!!!

It’s too late for me to start being the no girl and personally saying no to everything will lead to a boring life, so no, don’t say no. But say no once in a while. I am trying my best to practice but it is not working out as I would like to. I wish I was strong enough to say no. I wish I was strong enough to not care for others and care for myself once in a while. For now, I know the very first trait I shall be inculcating in the future generations : the ability to say no.

***Image and gif via Google Images

Sale Frenzy

Target at Hoppers Crossing recently relocated to the Pacific Werribee and as part of its moving, it had a three day 75% off sale. I had always heard of people going crazy at Black Friday sales in America.There have been incidents of people getting trampled to death by the throngs of crowd just pounding into the stores like the stampede in Lion King.

Fortunately,we don’t have boxing day sales here in Australia. Why did I say fortunately? Read on.

Sale started Monday , the day I go to mentor kids at the Werribee Secondary College for 2 hours. My aunt called up my mum to inform her of the sale. Mum dropped me off at school and headed to Target to check out the buzz. I called up mum to ask her to pick me up after my mentorship training got over and mum said that she couldn’t pick me up as she was stuck in line to the counter and that she might not be able to come out even after an hour. So I called my aunt and she picked me up and dropped me at Target and wooooow!! I was just speechless. It was a whole new shopping experience I can tell you that. The store was practically empty but the employers would just bring out new stuff and people would rush to it like a pack of hyenas would attack a baby deer. Their eyes were as ravenous as a hungry lion and their hands as outstretched as a little child who had just seen their favourite toy at store.There was a huge line that started from the cashier snaking all the way around to the whole store ending at the entrance. My mum didn’t exaggerate when she said it was a kilometre long line. After a few minutes,I was able to locate my mum. Having secured the trolley, we decided to check out other stuff as well. Mum saw these bed sheets and decided to check whether it was for single, double, king or queen size and poof it was gone. Some one had snatched it right out of her hands!!! People were wild I tell you. You couldn’t differentiate between people and animals, such was the environment and the atmosphere. It almost seemed like everyone had lost their senses and were lusting after the discounted items. The funny thing was that most of these items were stuff people didn’t even need. Allow me to elaborate : So I am a size 7 and when I was checking for shoes my size, there were none to be found. Only the gigantic size 9s or the tiniest size 6s could be seen all over the shelves. I spotted these beautiful black heels in size 7 in some aunty’s hand and no, I wasn’t going to grab it out of her hand. Thankfully I hadn’t transformed into the mindless zombie who had forgotten all etiquettes. The aunty was busy trying to squeeze her foot into the heel.

It almost pained me to observe the whole thing and I was almost tempted to tell her that there was no Prince Charming who would come and rescue her if her shoe fit in the glass slipper, I mean black stiletto heels. After 5 minutes of torturing the feet and the heels, she finally gave up. I was almost delighted and had started fantasising of the heels in my hands until she exclaimed “Ehhh I shall give it to my sister. I can’t miss such a good deal”. ARRRGHHHHHH!!!

Mum and I were waiting in the line for a good hour, observing the whole craziness and pandemonium taking place. All of a sudden, we heard a lady groan in agitation and looked back to check what had happened. Apparently these group of Indian ladies had taken a friend of theirs under their wing. Understandably, the white lady behind would be upset. Having to wait in line for hours and then have someone jump the queue is not at all acceptable. But the newcomer wouldn’t and didn’t budge. After a while, a hijabi approached us and was about to ask if she could join us when the very same lady that had escorted her friend, started shouting at the top of her lungs accusing her of queue jumping and breaking the line and threatening to complain to the management. The hijabi lady looked around helplessly for a few seconds and then jumped out of the line, stashed away the clothes on a nearby rack and left. I was appalled and shocked at the attitude of the Indian aunty behind me. Her hypocritical nature had left me speechless. I wasn’t able to question her and I wish I had because it really should be one size fits all (You can tell I really really wanted those heels lol).

By the time, we left the store it was 3:30 in the afternoon. Mum had spent 6 hours and I, 2 and that was enough time for us to start questioning the world we live in. If a sale on materialistic items had ignited such passion and antagonistic feelings in humans, then we aren’t leaving a very good example for the generations to come.

***All images and gif via Google Images

Tutti Frutti Frozen Yoghurt (Review)

So today is officially my one month anniversary of blogging. I am not that type of person who would be excited and bragging about anniversaries, or that I have 31 followers ,or that I reached a total of 205 likes on all my blog posts so far or the fact that my best number of views in a day was 32 on my blog (oops, I guess I just did hehe). Nope, I would rather be excited that I was able to keep my promise of blogging consistently 5 days a week for a month alhumdulillah(Still deciding which 2 days to blog on from now on. For now its Saturday and Sunday.)And so I decided to treat myself with a bit of froyo.

I had heard of the concept of frozen yoghurt by the girly YouTubers who make DIY videos and get ready with me’s and morning and night routines on their channel. They were raving about cookie dough frozen yoghurt. And so when Tutti Frutti opened up at Pacific Werribee (Werribee Plaza back then), I was the first one in line to try it out. And may I say it was the best thing ever especially with toppings. It has the sweetness and coldness of ice cream and health factor of yoghurt. Of course, my froyo doesn’t seem too healthy after I add choc-biscuits and wafer and all that jazz.

Tutti Frutti has various flavours of frozen yoghurts and they keep introducing new flavours. My all time favourite is chocolate and cookie n cream.

The best part about it though are the assortment of toppings. I am a huge pearl fan.

When you bite into a pearl, the sweet juice shoots into the back of your mouth directly into the esophagus (food pump/canal).  Normally it works best with fruit flavoured froyos such as mango,blueberry and strawberry just because the pearls are fruit flavoured too but I have to have pearls in any froyo I choose. It IS the best.

Also for those who are concerned with the pearls being halal or not, just ask the staff and they will tell you. In my case, the person behind the counter took out the tub from the shelf and handed it over to me for me to peruse through the ingredients and fortunately, the pearls were of vegetarian origin.

Pros :

• Taste yummy
• Various flavours
• Assortment of yummy toppings to choose from

• Colourful spoons

• Vegetarian pearls

Cons:

• Pay by weight so if you load up on toppings like I do, you end up paying more.

All in all, the best dessert. Suitable for weight-watchers, and fun and yumm for kids.