Christmas in Salalah

Boredom dominates me these days and hence the blog is often left with the stale post stained with the smell of last month's randomity and joy. As much as I love expressing my happiness here, I hate mentioning my sorrow. I always feel that Its upto the blogger to draw in the reader into his/her world, and when I post once in two months anyways, its pretty unfair to let that post succumb to my desperation.

I am currently in Salalah picking up my life where i last left it before entering the doors of the operating room. If I do happen to pick some of the Humor i lost on the way, I'd be one happy man (pun unintended).

Christmas is almost here and celebrating it in Salalah means tray loads of sweets prepared with rations of almond and raisins and tutti-frutti whatnots budgeted out from the parents' november salary. Some purchased from the Local Supermarket and the latter imported from Mumbai through the luggage of one hospitable aunt. We have to give the traditional rum cake a miss though, mom adds; a result of the side-effects of my surgery (No Alcohol of any sort). We can do the 'Neuris' though, those half-moon shaped deep fried stuffed puffs, a staple of any respectable Goan mothers' christmas tray. Now for all those who don't know the tradition of the tray of Christmas sweets, lets just say every Goan household HAS to have one stacked up to the brim with an array of sweet somethings for guests to peck at. My Childhood memories of Christmas in Goa are filled with many instances when my humble peck turned into plundering. Okay, Neuris done and stored out of reach of the Pet Parrot, we're onto the sweet nothings; Kulkul and Shankarpali. Till today No one who has eaten these has even once paused to salute the elongated hours that have gone into the making. Its just *Click* *Crackle* *Chomp* not necessarily even in the same manner! Sometimes the tray of sweets might also have indigenous friends packed and stacked neatly into the same, earlier mentioned aunts' luggage and sent over to Salalah. These include Bebinca (Oh Good Lord, Its too much to make it at home. Lets leave it to the workers slogging in Goan Factories. Merry Capitalism to you too!), Perad (Guava Cheese. Can stink at times but heavenly when eaten, especially when you don't know whats gone inside), and Dodol (Close relative to the Bebinca when it comes to the procedure.). There are a host of other sweets which make it to a Traditional Goan Tray but I just left it to the specifics or rather, the favorites, i must say. ;)

With regards to the decorations, owing to the fact that Dad leaves on the 22nd of December to celebrate Christmas with the Sister and also because half here and half there never form a whole, we shan't be putting up much of those. Maybe just a wreath outside to show our all-christian neighbours that we too have spent money on the decorations (9 Rials Just on the Wreath #FTW). Also we might, just MIGHT spend Christmas out of Home (us referring to Mother and Myself, Dad flies to Mumbai remember?). 

The remainder of the Christmas Week shall see Long Shopping Sprees, Repetitive visits to the 3 measly departmental stores in Salalah, the same old rush to pack and then just 6 hours after i ring in the New Year in Salalah, i shall be off to ring in the new year in Mumbai.

Just thought of giving you a lighter perspective on my otherwise boring stay in Salalah. (Believe me, this dial-up tone played by the modem is like a horror story in my otherwise perfect Hathway Internet-serviced life). Hope You Enjoy It. Ill Plug In later to wish you guys. Go Spread some of the Christmas Cheer now! 

The Runaway Hit

Its been a While, and my oh my what a while has it been.

The past two months have been like this surprise roller-coaster ride which entertains and amazes you at all the sweet spots. It takes you as low as you could possibly go and then the next moment, while you're salivating at the escape routine you just went through, you find yourself being tossed up again. In this see-saw of emotions you look around and find yourself as the centre of possibly all attraction. You suddenly realize that while you are busy taking this ride, you are drawing other people into the picture. First, of course you get your family in. The first respondents in all life-emergency situations. Just round the corner, not so far, stand your core group, which, owing to your short-attention span, you never knew existed. Not ones to be left behind, hot on their heels stand the rest of the people you call friends.

When the ride finally grinds to a halt, you get out and notice that your plight has succumbed to so much pity that you think the post-ride nausea has got the best of you. Its only when you wake up a couple of days later, wide awake on the matress that you can actually gauge and review the intensity of the ride. You can get back to the sharp curves and the steep climbs, the fast descent and the first climb.Everything comes back to you almost as if you're watching your own movie.

The angles crisp and clear, the drama nonetheless present and the climax, as nail-biting as you may have once wanted it to be. The Editing too is flawless. You remember as much as you want to and flush out only that which was a waste of footage anyways.

Its only when the credits roll however, that you realise the true acquaintances. The ones who didn't just attend your premiere for the complimentary popcorn and pepsi. The ones who stayed back to meet the director, not the ones who lingered behind to scoff criticism. You go to your after-party and again can't help but look around as you see just as many people as many you wanted to be present.

This is one movie. though, which is safer tucked away in the closet labelled a 'runaway hit', rather than being agonizingly played again and again to prove a point. All I can say is a big thank you to the ones who were part of it.