Two months in, too many more to go…

We went back into our homes one day,

Closed the doors behind us and drawing the curtains,

Cowering away from a new serial killer we could not see.

We stayed in for a few days,

Learning how to speak in different languages,

We got creative and played new games,

And then baked and ate it all.

The days grew into each other,

And slowly became stretchy bubblegum weeks,

We monitored the daily numbers,

Until the numbers made us numb,

So we got brave and ventured outdoors,

We said it was to buy essentials but really it was to shake the cabin fever.

We began to suffer Zoom fatigue,

And Teams exhaustion,

We began to flaunt the rules,

Or thought they didn’t apply to us,

We started to find a new normal,

But still we asked “When is this all going to be over”.

We worried about the economy,

And wondered if the outside missed us,

Then the news of a colleague at work,

A neighbor,

Outbreaks at the local pharmacy or a hospital we may use.

The numbers that had numbed us suddenly gave us new reasons to fear,

When would we get the message of a brother or a sister,

And would our four new friends with their catchy tune begin to draw near?

It’s a strange thing…

It’s a strange thing to meet you and not extend an arm to pull you closer

and tilt my chin up instinctively

to feel you head against my heart

It’s a strange seeing you smile

but realise your eyes are saying something else

and to feel overwhelmed by that same dread for the days to come

It’s strange stopping myself from saying let’s go grab breakfast

or to go quickly gobble up pizza

despite the promises to eat better

It’s a strange thing to text more and get responses

in a time when the words feel utterly futile

and yet so much more essential

It’s going to be a strange new world we will emerge into

broken and then pieced together to start over

and I’ll raise my arm place it on your shoulder

so that we can walk together once more

How to gain followers and influence people!

For the most part, if you ask people (and sometimes even if you don’t ask) for their thoughts on social media you will find that they fall into one of two opposing camps. The first, and seemingly growing camp, is those in opposition, arguing that social media is a major time waster and only serves to feed the user’s need for external validation through likes and comments. In fact, when I initially thought of writing this post it was going to be a bit tongue in cheek and all I was going to say was all you needed to do to gain followers and influence people is to be an Instagram model. Full stop. But then I realised my facetiousness was just an attempt to mask that I fall into the second camp of people who argue that social media can be used effectively and to achieve different goals. So I decided to do more of an actual post than just a silly clickbait article.

Continue reading “How to gain followers and influence people!”

My mom, the Basket Aunty…

In Indian society, every older unrelated male is an uncle and older unrelated female an aunty (not aunt, aunty).  Your real uncle and aunts are given their designations by the relationship they come to be your real aunts and uncles by.  Your mother’s brothers are your Mamas and your father’s sisters your Poowas. Or Foi or Aatha depending on the dialect you speak.  And you then also have big dads and big moms for the eldest uncles and aunts.  Everyone else who is older is designated uncle or aunt and then their name.  The neighbour, Aunty Saras (not to be confused with the neighbour-aunty, Saras) or Uncle Sagren who lives down the road.  When, as an Indian kid, you don’t know someone by their name you default to some attribute of how they look or what they do with and added uncle or aunty at the front.  So the Fowl Aunty was the lady who provided fresh chickens on a Saturday morning, Fisher Uncle or Uncle Fishy was a good fisherman and the Milk Uncle drove the van that sold bread and milk and sweets that came around at 3 o’ clock every afternoon.  That’s probably how my mother ended up being the  Basket Aunty and then the Sweet Aunty. Continue reading “My mom, the Basket Aunty…”

I’m making 2018 my year of influence

So full 2 weeks of the New Year have come and gone.  If you are still holding on to your resolutions good on you!  If have already you broke them for whatever reason, well you only 2 weeks in so you can always wake up, shout “Mulligan!” and start over.  If you didn’t make any, you do you as best as you can, because you never know who’s watching and looking up to you!  My resolution for 2018 is actually something along those lines, but before we get there some background.

Continue reading “I’m making 2018 my year of influence”

2017 in rear view…

I know what you thinking. “Hold up, hold up, you can’t just be writing a year in review when the year is not yet over! Its not even Christmas!” But let’s be honest guys, as a South African the year officially ends on the long weekend of the 16th December and the new year begins after the 2nd January, maybe only officially the 8th January.  The two week period in-between is neither the old year or the new year, filled with the haze of balmy summer nights, sweet over-indulgence, instagram posts and stories and travel to local or exotic destinations; all the while surrounded by dear family and friends. We should really start a petition to get the South African Government to make the 16 December to 1 January summer leave for everyone. So, for me at least, the year ended a few days back already unofficially and therefore I can just!  So here are my two highlights of 2017…

Continue reading “2017 in rear view…”