I remember watching Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham back in 2001 when it first came out. I remember going there with literally my entire extended family, I think maybe because the movie’s selling line was “it’s all about loving your family“. 19 years later, I’ve memorized the movie that it doesn’t even need to be playing for me to recite the dialogues. So, while Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jaayenge reserves the spot of my favourite movie (and still not on Netflix!), K3G comes somewhere in the top 10 favourite Bollywood classics.
In an effort to raise morale and give us something to watch, Netflix recently uploaded all the KJo classics – including Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham, and no surprise, I found myself watching it when I had a sudden realization (with a little help from my friends) – am I Anjali?
Anjali is clumsy. She breaks gamlas (vases) whenever she goes to the Raichands.
I’m not even going to go into the different Givenchy Beauty (or related) events that I have somehow – with no additional help necessary – injured myself in some way or another. I’m talking hitting my head (and getting a mild concussion) 15 minutes before the event begins, burning my foot from the smoke machine (don’t ask), falling flat in the middle of the presentation and more.
Anjali has NO filter.
It’s like the brain and the mouth do no talking sometimes. I’m often biting my tongue – or wishing I did.
I am constantly asked…
Anjali isn’t afraid of telling the truth through poetic sarcasm and pure sass.
Obviously, I’m elaborating when I’m saying the sarcasm is poetic – but it was witty. Especially the Ek ka vadda dil, dusre de vadde vadde bill and aagayi kamini bachi chodhne.
Anjali is excellent at mocking people.
Oh hello Mrs. Spritely – would you like some tea? Ask my family and friends – I love copying and mocking people, very lovingly of course.
Anjali thinks she’s funny. But, also, she is!
Anjali’s hilarious, and honestly, so am I. I’m not even going to begin to expand on this.
Anjali’s loud as hell
I’m not saying I’m loud, but I can’t whisper to save my life.
Coming back to the real question – am I Anjali from K3G?
This is a crazy phase of life, which one day – the day I’m really, really looking forward to, is a long, forgotten memory and just a story to keep the coming generations on their toes. But, for now, I am starting to experience new levels of gobsmackedness with how bored and restless I can be. I’m trying to find something new to do in this new normal.
I find myself colouring in the Zoé de Las Cases’ Secret New York, trying to come up with new writing assignments for myself, promising to not play anymore Candy Crush and actually read Pernille Hughes’ Probably the best kiss in the world. I also find myself perfecting my baking activities – like finally coming up with a batch of chocolate chip cookies (with nutella centre) that do not burn and brownies that are perfectly chewy, crispy and brownie-like.
So, apart from penning (or typing) down my thoughts, I thought I’ll put the recipe to my brownies! They’re not magical brownies – but, they do have magic. And no, the secret ingredient is not love. It’s boredom.
Ingredients:
Yogurt – 1 cup Self-Raising Flour – 1 cup Cocoa – 1/2 – 3/4 cup (depends on how dark you would like them to be) Brown Sugar- 1/2 cup Oil – 1/2 cup Vanilla Essence – 1 tsp Baking Powder – 1 1/2 tsp Sodium Bicarbonate – 1/2 tsp Hershey’s Semi Sweet Chocolate Chips – 1/2 cup
Method:
Empty the oven of all the things your mom’s stored inside.
Turn it on – and begin the preheating – I think it’s 350 Fahrenheit. Ask your mom. Or mine.
Mix the oil and brown sugar in a bowl – and whisk (beat) till it’s mixed and fluffy. Then add the yogurt and whisk till it’s mixed properly. Once done, add the vanilla essence. (I’ll now call this the wet mix – for lack of better words)
In another bowl, sieve and mix cocoa, self-raising flour, baking powder and soda. (Let’s call this the dry mix)
Starting add the dry mix slowly into the wet mix – 1 tbsp at a time and keep whisking the batter. Eventually, add all the dry mix into the wet mix and whisk it all together – till everything looks like it belong together.
Don’t stick your fingers in yet – you can taste it after.
Add the chocolate chips and to not destroy them – take like those plastic thingy’s that scoop things clean or like a normal mixer wooden spoon or you know, a spoon and start mixing them in.
Butter up the cake dish – glaze it with a little ghee or butter and then pour the batter in (halfway in the dish). Leave some extra batter to eat after.
Put it in the oven for 20 minutes – and do the toothpick test. Depending on the oven – might take 20-30 minutes.
When working out, we often get breathless, and tend to breathe from our mouth to makeup for the oxygen we are losing. But, while practising Bikram Yoga you aren’t supposed to breathe from your mouth. You are supposed to only breathe from your nose throughout the workout. Only in the beginning and end you use your mouth.
After doing bikram for months at end, I trained myself to not breath from my mouth when I’m in a posture. Other workouts, don’t work that way. So, my PT is constantly (for the past 3 years) reminding me to “keep breathing.” I’m still learning and reminding myself – don’t hold my breath.
In the world of metaphors (and over-thinkers), the term don’t hold my breath literally means to tell someone that an event isn’t going to happen.
In an endless loop, I had a realization (am I sitting by the window, talking in a Carrie Bradshaw voice? Possibly), that this meant more than just me trying to unlearn bikram yoga breathing. You see, I’m a dreamer, I am constantly scouting for hope and spend most of my optimistic self and time – holding my breath waiting for something that is likely to never happen.
I am not ashamed of hoping and looking for the rainbow, I would think of that as my virtue. I am always hopeful, but it’s my own expectations of everything else – not just necessarily me – that sets me up for disappointment. I wouldn’t want to settle for less than, but I shouldn’t be setting myself up for unnecessary breath holding and tension in my shoulders – and heart.
There is a need – nah, necessity – to constantly remind myself to breathe. To contain my expectations to myself – and to deliver on them, so I let go with a long exhale.
They say there are usually two kinds of people – those who like cats and those who like dogs. It’s not often that those collide – but it’s not shocking at the same time. Most dog people are cat friendly – unlike the cat people, they are not friendly. Unless I’m friends with them.
Growing up, I was in the ‘neither’ category. I wasn’t into cats and I was super scared of dogs. But, at the ripe age of 18, I was forced to live with the (now) cutest little Pug, named ‘Bruno’ and got attached to my best friend (Chandni)’s doggie, ‘Sugar’. It was a rough beginning – I would be scared to death every time the dogs came near.
But, cats. My, my. At the age of 27 – I’m still very scared of them. Their branding has been so – cannot blame me. But, also, you never know what they are thinking, they come and jump at you at the weirdest of times and some (very trained) cats revenge pee. That’s my reasoning. My friends, however, think otherwise.
This post was actually inspired by five very close cat-ladies who diguise themselves as ‘normal human beings’ I have in my life. Around their respective or any one else’s cat, they are a very strange specimens.
Potato with Sonia
One of my best friends from high school, Sonia is a very badass woman. She’s kind and understanding but she’s the boss. A Cat Lady 4 evz, she found a stray cat, named her Potato and became very attached. She had her schedule around Potato. She would leave the window open for Potato to come during feeding time and cuddle with Sonia. They had each other’s back through heart-breaks, long days of bird chasing, tiring work and almost every evening, watched soap operas together.
“Sweet Baby Angel” Candy with Asavari
“This is my cat, who is actually like my daughter, her name is Candy. You know what, I’m celebrating her birthday in like an afternoon high tea and you have to come, also here’s her IG – follow it,” said Asavari. I had known her all of a couple hours at work – and that was the introduction I got. In my head, I clicked it – cat lady. Her home is full of Candy’s toys every where – in every room and every corner. Candy is quite a character and definitely a madam with an attitude. Asavari is constantly worrying about Candy’s health and eating habits, I get scared texts when Candy is getting groomed – mostly about how she’s going to be killed in her sleep by her lovely cat. Asavari will constantly and actively argue about having the sweetest baby angel in the world who just sometimes, when pissed, revenge pees on her bed, ignores her back when ignored and has the entire Sehgal clan wrapped around her furry little finger.
Teddy with the only woman he needs – Janice
Janice and her foster cat, Teddy are constantly in an endless loop of hide and seek. Janice can be often seen crouching under the bed or the couch, politely (Jan is VERY polite and patient – at least with her cat) begging Teddy to please, please come out. When he’s not hiding, Teddy find his way around Janice’s shoulder and poses comfortably for a round of selfies. He keeps her entertained in the constant pool of ‘Meow’ that they both fluently speak and cuddles her when she comes back exhausted after a long day and a longer drive home.
Rafi with a cropped George
Georgina (or George, because her whole name is a syllable to long and she doesn’t want to be called ‘G’ or ‘Gina’) is my mentor, like my sister and a very close confidant. However, one of the new titles that she added for me in the last year is ‘Rafi-Seater’. Rafi is her cat – listen, don’t ask me breeds, because I wouldn’t know what to tell you – her son and her baby. Rafi isn’t like normal cats, he thinks he’s a mix of a monkey and a dog. He likes sniffing new people, loves the scaring the living hell out of me by jumping at me from behind the couch, over the counter, under the table and George’s lap. He’s expressive and doesn’t know when to stop ‘meowing’. I knew I was her last option when she asked me to cat sit last year. Since Rafi likes watching TV, as my own mischief, I would leave on Gilmore Girls. I can be scared or not a fan, but Rafi got her through some emotionally straining times and ate the pretty flowers I got her.
Mango and the kittens with Dee
I always thought of Devinder as a dog person, but here’s proving dog people like cats too, Dee fosters a lot of cats despite her partner Mark’s oh dear god, not again expression. She names them after food things – Ginger and Mango and Apple – and fosters them until they are stronger and adopted by happy families. I remember this one time a couple of months ago, she adopted a new mum with three teeny tiny kittens for a couple of months. She turned her guest bedroom into their cove and kept them until they were stronger and all adopted. I was scared out of my life to even touch them – but that’s just me.
Now, how do you know if your friend is a cat lady?
Check for hair on her clothes – please don’t be that embarrassing human nuisance that picks human hair and calls it for cat. No! Look for fine hair – that does not look like it feel from theirs.
Look for what kind of IG pages they follow – the number of cat memes and videos I get sent collectively from all five of them – I can start my own page.
Bring up an argument around what’s cuter – a baby, a puppy or a cat. 11 times out of 10 they will say cat.
If you have been out for way too long, do they look like they might have separation anxiety? Worrying about Candy peeing in their bed or if Teddy is too lonely?
You find them ordering clothes for cats – this one’s a real giveaway.
I’m not a big reality TV buff – my one guilty pleasure is ‘Keeping up with the Kardashians’. I’ve watched it for more than a decade – and the first couple of seasons still crack me up. So when everyone got on the ‘Love is Blind’ train, I was just like oh this is another ‘Love Island’ record and didn’t really give in. Then my PT, Devinder Bains convinced me that I should just watch 1 episode – while cycling in the gym.
So, there I sat, with one episode downloaded. And as I started – I cycled the entire episode without a break. And straight away, I went home and watched the second episode and the third and the fourth. Then I had to wait for a whole 4 days for the next episode. And I was hooked.
Obviously, like most people, I was shipping Lauren and Cameron; – SPOILERS – and was shocked when Barnett said ‘I do’; and not at all shocked when Jesssica didn’t. Although my mouth fell to the ground when I saw Gianina just speed off. That was brilliant, I would do that.
I would like to say I inspired many. I convinced friends, colleagues, family – everyone on my Love is Blind train. I found “like-minded” people watching the show – it obviously is starting to sound like a cult – but here’s a show that you didn’t know you needed.
For those who don’t know – it’s people – in an arranged marriage setting. No, no – I’m being very serious. You know how like in olden Indian times where you don’t get to see your fiance till you are actually engaged – I’d like to think that’s where they found the inspiration. So, basically it starts with 15 men and 15 women – all kind of speed dating – without seeing each other. They are in these pods – so they are essentially sitting on a couch and talking to a wall – that talks back. Nope, nothing cuckoo here.
Then, based on who you like – you “meet” them more often until like the dude proposes – at which point the girl says yes, unless you are Gianina (Gigi) – where you tell him ‘no’ and then propose him anyway. He should have run then – oh well.
So this happens, once they say yes – they finally meet each other. And then whisked away to Mexico for a “pre-honeymoon”. And then they live together in an apartment – with the speedy wedding basically in 4 weeks of getting engaged. Crazy, right? BUT – IT’S SO ENTERTAINING!
So, “inspired” and excited, the gifs are everywhere. And I had to my favourites that I’m already making very good use of.
Gianina running away – and then falling.
JK, I’m not running away from men – I’m so single it hurt!
No, not all memes are Gigi.
Anytime some says something gossipy!
Talking about that girl hitting on my friend’s boy – “bitch you shiesty”!
Yeah, okay – so they are all Gigi.
Me – when I saw Jessica (in the gif) give her dog a sip of wine and then continue drinking from the same glass…
Simpson’s version of hiding in the leaves…
After an evening out…
Realizing that maybe this didn’t need to be an article, but its too late for that…
I’ll be honest, I’m not very tall. So for work events, I’m always in Mules or a little heels – basically anything that would “elevate” me slightly higher than the ground. So, come March – it’s event season in Dubai (I’m a PR girl) I’m at events and I’m constantly in flats. And it’s a fun story.
So, last year – just before Christmas (roughly 2 and something-ish months ago), I slipped and fell down the stairs in the cinema. INSIDE the cinema. While walking down to leave. I fell long and hard. Tore a ligament on my left ankle. I’ll tell you this, VOX cinema staff at MOE (Dubai) is lovely. They were really nice and quickly got the paramedics to check. It was awful. I was in a cast and absolute misery for over 3 weeks.
My mood swings were beyond me – I was very upset. For someone who’s always running around, moving about and doesn’t have “standing still” in her list of to dos, it was a new battle. Mostly internal but very dramatic. Obviously, it gets better, my brother was in town for a couple of days, and he wanted to go for the movie – and bear the drama that ensued following my fall. Needless to say, he was the one who had to run around like my flying monkey for water, remote and things I would conveniently forget by the time he grunted, rolled his eyes and came to answer my tenth call of the 20 minutes. Yeah, I am not holding my breath for the ‘best sister’ trophy this quarter.
But, this story and the mulling gets better. Just before I tragically slipped and tore my ligament 10 days before, I was at my friend’s wedding – and during this ceremony where the bride’s friends steals the groom’s shoes my other friend’s golden heel went straight in my right big toe. Ouchie. We cleaned it up, I was flying the next morning, so between a hangover, that pain and general wedding exhaustion was served on a platter.
At the wedding and at the event – same golden mules.
The next day I had an event and wore the same (golden mules) to it – being the forgetful bird I am – I forgot to clean them. By the end of the night, my big toe was twice it’s size and at least 8 times more painful. It turned out to be an inflammation. It involved a painkiller injection (my trypanophobia is a whole different story), anti-biotics and me being off my feet for 10 days. The procedure, pain and prescribed pharmaceuticals ended on Tuesday evening. By Friday 6.30 PM, my other leg had a cast.
Look, I’m very clumsy. I have always been – mostly my legs. Actually, mostly to my right leg. I had stitches when my mixer’s blade fell on my right big toe, or when my friend & I fell and I fractured my right ankle. Monthly twists, falling on flat surfaces (no alcohol/heels necessary), or just simply attempting to walk does it. But, it’s always been on my right foot – so my left one is the strong one. So, when I broke my left – my right was just in shock. It was still recovering from the unfortunate inflammation – and now being the main bearer of my entire being.
For the first couple of days, I was just hopping on my right foot, when the full cast went in, for a whole day – I was just remembering so, how am I supposed to even walk? I couldn’t put one foot infront of another. I’m still in a little pain – but it takes a while and I don’t really have an option so… here I am – mulling over mules.
If you’re new around here, let me begin by telling you – I’m a Swiftie. Taylor Swift is one of my favourite musicians of all times. I love the metaphors and sly play she does with her words. The most complex of emotions are described in the simplest words – words you didn’t know they could be explained in.
One of my favourite songs of hers, till date, is ‘All too Well’. In my personal opinion, the song is a lyrical genius. Whether it was, “Realized you lost the one real thing you’ve ever known.” or “You’ll mail back my things in a box with no note except for that scarf from that very first week”. In other words, I’ve always been taken by her lyrics – but this song, in particular, can make me cry and feel things at any moment of time.
So, obviously as the new album came out, I bought it right away – and while I wait for my Deluxe version to be delivered, here I am again, hoping to get lost in translation, I’m pulling together a thread of my favourite lyrics from Lover so far.
“I’ve got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you” – The Archer.
Don’t we all have those unsaid speeches? For every emotion, occasion and heart-break? This song explores how she herself is her Archer and her prey.
I’m so sick of running as fast as I can, wondering if I’d get there quicker if I was a man.” – The Man.
Every woman needs to hear this song. She has spoken about sexism before, she’s been harassed before – and she’s talking purely out of real frustrations and experience.
“Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?” – Lover AND “All’s well that ends well to end up with you” – Lover AND “Swear to be over-dramatic and truuuuuuee, to my loverrr” – Lover
This song is the ‘lover’ I didn’t know I needed. Everything about this song makes my heart burst in a fun but slow dance with my imaginary ‘lover’. Every lyric hits close to home and makes you realize that this kind of ‘forever and ever’ love does exist – and is well worth saving the seat on the table for.
“And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends. I’d never walk Cornelia Street again. That’s the kinda heartbreak time could never mend.” – Cornelia Street
As human beings, it is our natural tendency to associate a special someone with a special place, a memory and a very real smell. Cornelia Street is a metaphor of that place – in real and in her heart – that she will never be able to revisit. And while time heals most things, that’s one heartbreak it could never mend.
“And I hate to make this all about me, but who am I supposed to talk to? What am I supposed to do if there’s no you?” – Soon you’ll be Better
Without mentioning who she’s praying for, the song just gets you emotionally riled up. I don’t know what more to say, except hear it.
“Fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves Chemistry ’til it blows up, ’til there’s no us” – Afterglow
Doesn’t this ring you similar to ‘Back to December’? Like a version that is purely more emotional than it was. It’s Taylor admitting her mistakes and asking for another chance. We all get in our heads sometimes and make scenarios that might not necessarily be there. What we need in those moments is someone’s hand to pull us out of the woods and meet me in the afterglow.
“They say the road gets hard and you get lost, when you’re led by blind faith.” – False God
I think this song is hinting towards what it is like to be in a relationship when it gets hard (It refers to Taylor’s to long distance relationship with Joe Alywn). While these lyrics don’t exactly say it, but its asking you to take the road to the blind faith and worship this love. It’s about taking a chance and jumping in – making it work through the harder times. What’s not to love?
“I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with Paper Rings” – Paper Rings
So full of cheese and love, of course I was dancing around the room to this! When it comes to love, everyone settles for something – not in a bad way. Actually, my use of the word ‘settle’ is incorrect. It’s compromise. Every relationship – platonic or otherwise requires compromises and comes with complications, but how you compliment each other is what makes it click.
I can guarantee I would have found completely new lyrics to be in love with by next week – so I’ll keep you updated!
I have a sweet tooth, in fact, I believe all my teeth are actually the sweet ones. And as someone who loves to travel, my one mission in life is to eat a lot of desserts – especially ones that might be special to the country or the place.
Vienna’s Sacher Torte – essentially known as the world’s best chocolate cake with the most controversial history – is a cult brand. It is a must do, when in Vienna. So, in the walking tour which we arrived to (very rushed and huffing and puffing), our lovely tour guide stopped us right in front of Hotel Sacher – the famous hotel that lends its name to the delicious cake.
A recipe created 200 years ago, the original cake – that is served at Hotel Sacher is a chocolate cake with a layer of apricot in the middle and on the top – with a final layer of chocolate icing on the top. It comes with an official Sacher Chocolate seal.
In 1832, Price Metternich commissioned his chef to create a new dessert. The chef was ill, so his apprentice, Franz Sacher (If you’ve been to Austria – you’ll learn that ‘Franz’ is a very common name) took over and created the cake.
At that time, chocolate cakes had already been around for a 100 years in Vienna – and this was just a new amalgamation – that created its own history. The cake quickly gained popularity and was deemed suitable for the Imperial court (aka the king and the queen).
The recipe was actually perfected by his son, Eduard Sacher – who was working at Cafe Patisserie Demel at the time. Demel, also close to where the Imperial Court is – was already a popular choice for desserts and pastries for the elite. His Sacher Torte was deemed delicious and continued to serve to the Imperial Court and the public.
In those times, if the Imperial Court approved of something – it became the cult thing – pretty much how it goes with celebrities these days.
The cake’s sudden popularity got lots of money – and in 1876, 34 years after the original recipe, Eduard founded the Hotel Sacher – and of course, started selling the cake there (exclusively). The cake became known as ‘Eduard Sacher Torte’
It was probably not all good sailing, because in 1934, the hotel went bankrupt, and Eduard Sacher’s son – also named Eduard Sacher (not at all confusing), went to work at Demel (where his father used to). He eventually transferred the single ownership of the Eduard Sacher Torte to Demel.
Four years later, around the same time when Hitler conquered Austria, the battle between Hotel Sacher and Demel began. All because Hotel Sacher wanted to register their Sacher torte as the official sacher torte.
The two argued about the number of layers of apricot jam and whether it was made with butter or margarine. Up until this point – I thought those two were the same.
Still with me? Great!
It took almost 20 years for the dispute to resolve and the tired court (I hope they got to eat a lot of the cake, at least), decided that Hotel Sacher will have two layers of apricot jam, the official stamp and be known as the Original Sacher Torte; while Demel will have one layer of apricot jam, their own triangular stamp and be known as the Eduard Sacher Torte.Demel now calls it Demel’s Sacher Torte.
The conclusion is its chocolate cake. Just eat it.
What is an experience? It is an encounter that leaves an impression. And what makes an experience so great? It’s the memories of the experience. Maybe it’s just me, but I have a very questionable memory – and science (and psychology) says, that we change a memory every time we recall it – so are experiences still a greater treasure?
While I’m not exactly like Rebecca Bloomwood from Confessions of a Shopaholic, hoarding unopen things (I repeat, not exactly), but I do tend to fall in love with things.
For a really long time, every time I looked longingly at a beautiful leather bag in bright green with a big price tag, I felt bad for feeling materialistic, but does pining for a pretty green thing, make me materialistic?
Things can make you happy too, for myriad reasons, that have nothing to do with being materialistic. Perhaps it’s the thrill of saving up for a special item that I have wanted to own – which also reminds me of my achievements. I could have gone to a fine dining restaurant and easily spent the amount there, but unlike that quick delectable experience who’s flavour I would have altered by the next morning, the thing would have stayed for much longer.
Things and experiences, go hand in hand. Sometimes you need the things to help jolt your memory and make you remember good times. They don’t need to be expensive things either – a seashell from a beach can be just as precious as a Givenchy lipstick. Look at things like sources of experiences, a single object you look at our own that alters your life. Whether its souvenirs from travel, your childhood home or just the little bouquet of fresh flowers you bought yourself.
My mom collects a lot of things and a lot of experiences. But, if you ask her, her most treasured memory or item, it will have to be my grandma’s old earrings, these beautiful blue jhumki from when my grandma was a little girl. Every time she wears them, she has an extra skip in her step, maybe because it makes her feel closer to her mum and definitely because she is looking good in them. Ultimately, whether it’s the memories of her mother or the beauty of the jewellery, it makes her happy.
“If I buy a book, for example, I buy it to go on some intellectual experience. Take me away with a good story or some new ideas! That’s an experience, right? Or is it stuff, because you wind up with that physical book at the end? Does the distinction really matter? — The Simple Dollar
It is up to you to decide what makes you happy – whether its experience of the things or the things from the experience.
I know, another fragrance story, what’s going on, Swati? But, as I mentioned in my previous post about the LOEWE 001 Perfumes, it’s very often that I end up reading about stories or inspirations behind different things. This time, it was the Poppy – of KENZO Parfum’s Flower By Kenzo.
Not many know, but, the flower Poppy doesn’t actually have a smell. It is a flower that is scentless – can you imagine that? I mean a flower usually stands for two things: pretty colours and an amazing sweet smell. But, here’s one flower, that looks really delicate, really pretty and really simple – and there is no smell.
The KENZO Parfum team briefed their noses (people who create the scent), that here’s this flower – that doesn’t have a smell – your job today, is to give it a scent. Create a perfume that depicts the flower. The kind of smell that when it’s in the air, people automatically associate it with the Poppy. Now, I’m not saying that was the exact conversation, it must have been in French, or Japanese – I’m not sure. But, this is how it went in my head.
And with that, here we are. They create a scent – exclusive to the poppy. I, genuinely, came across it as a kid – I always had this really thin, tall bottle that smelled like flowers. Even the bottle design, is delicate and shaped like a poppy.
Since then, the brand has launched several distinct scents that remind of a different aspect of a poppy.
I work as PR in a luxury firm in Dubai, and often in my work, I come across lovely little stories of brands. Don’t get me wrong- I’m not trying to make a pitch here. It’s something very simple, but it easily calls to my heart – especially if there is a little bit of love in this story involved.
It started something like this – we were gifting a few things, and we included the LOEWE 001 fragrances in it. In the bags, we put men and women’s. Curiosity (and frugality) got the best of me and I asked why did we need to put both? We could conquer much more gifting if we just gifted based on the receiver’s gender. I really didn’t think there’d be a story to it. But, here goes:
The fragrant pair is both notable for their freshness and calming scents. After a little reading, I read that the brand says that, “Two unique fragrances, Man and Woman, created at the same time. Two accomplice fragrances, non-existent one without the other, in constant conversation … Perfectly complementary, when they are combined together, the two fragrances create a third scent.”
So, in simpler words – both the scents share 50% of the same ingredients and 50% different ingredients – just like how a couple is – similar but different, but together, they compliment each other.
Last week, I flew to Beirut to spend a few days exploring the beautiful country. It sounds rather simple and easy when I say- I flew to Beirut, but I know the trouble it took me to get there!
It started long before I was going to go in to apply for the visa.
Chapter 1: Can’t Find the Passport
The tale of misadventure started even before I went to get the Visa issued. We had literally just moved houses a day ago, and I had returned from Delhi like 3 days before that- so dear mother put my passport safely. Now, whenever my mother says she put it safely- just assume it’s gone to Neverland. After a day and half of frantically opening every single box and suitcase and purse- we found it- inside one of the very nicely packed crystal-ware. At least, we found it.
Chapter 2: What will you do in Lebanon?
I thought I wouldn’t have to explain this to the consulate especially after explaining it to my parents in depth. But, when I applied for the Visa they needed a consent letter from daddy allowing me to go, his details, my details, details of my stay, tickets, hotels- the usuals. Then while submitting the papers they asked me exactly for what joy did I want to travel to Lebanon. “I want to just visit your beautiful country,” I replied.
And so the very next day I got a call saying that my visa will be rejected. I was in utter shock, and asked why. They said- if you can submit consent letter from who you’re traveling with, their details and travel documents- they might reconsider.
Dropping everything, I called my uncle and auntie, I was traveling with my family friends and their daughter- we usually take all our trips together. I requested a consent letter, passport copies for all traveling (Uncle, auntie and their daughter), travel documents. I raced to the Consulate and only to be welcomed with closed doors- it was lunch time. I begged the peon ushering everyone away to just give my papers to the kind lady inside- after much begging, he obliged.
The next day, my daddy picked up the passport- with the visa and everything.
Chapter 3: Incorrect Visa Issue Date
You know, from now onwards I’m always going to check the issue date on the visa. You think that if the consulate has issued it surely they will not put the wrong issue date? Wrong. They’re only human after all.
Misadventures and misfortune continue. With my packed suitcase and backpack full of a novel, notebook and iPad, I checked in online and ended up at the baggage drop area. The smiling lady on the desk asks to see my passport- and I happily hand it over- asking if the flight’s on time and thanking God that my suitcase is way under the weight limit. I was happy- not only because I was travelling but because this was the lightest I’d ever travelled! Yay!
She looked at me, looked again at the passport, looked at me again- this time without a smile. She informed me that the issue date for my visa was listed as 06.05.2017 instead of 06.04.2017. And that meant my visa was only valid from May 6, 2017, instead of the month earlier. Or you know, April 9, 2017- the date I was travelling. I laughed and said- it’s a human error, I’m sure it’s no problem- I mean I do have the visa. She directs her problem- i.e. me- to the information and help desk.
They call the Beirut station, several officers, Lebanese Consulate- but with no luck. An hour and a half of waiting at the Costa with my sad little coffee and packed bags I’m informed there’s no way I’ll be travelling to Beirut today. Upset and panicking, I call dear old dad- who is stunned to hear the absurdity.
No amount of begging would have helped my case. So, with a slightly cool head- I head to the booking station and request to be rebooked to tomorrow evening so I can sort my papers out during the next morning. After paying a penalty for moving dates, with a ticket for the next day, down almost a thousand dirhams, I arrive back at home.
Chapter 4: Who does that?
Hence began the bullying, the jokes and the shaking heads.
“Why wouldn’t you check the visa properly?”
“hahaha- how stupid can you be?”
“Do you ever get your visas on time?”
“Don’t you get visa on arrival?”
If I got my visa on arrival- exactly WHY would I have spent so much time running around the Consulate? Stupid questions and jokes ensued. My own brother took the piss out of me and my sorry situation. What am I saying? My own mother a week later is still laughing.
Chapter 5: Consulate again!
In all my time living out of India, I’ve been to the Indian embassy a total of 1 time- and that was only to give a university entrance exam while living in Saudi Arabia. But, to visit Lebanon for four days- I visited the Lebanese Consulate for the third time again within the week (fourth, if you include daddy collecting my passport). I go to the visa counter- it’s a different lady this time.
I tell her that my visa had the wrong issue date and if she could kindly help me. She looked at me in confusion and asked,
“When is your flight?“
“Yesterday”, I replied.
She shook her head and took my passport in the room in the back. A minute later she came back with the changed date.
Chapter 6: Finally, Beirut!
After checking and rechecking all the documents at least 10 times- I finally flew to Beirut. I was so sure that something is going to be wrong with the paperwork again. Thank god, there wasn’t. And then (finally) began the adventures in Beirut!
SWATINESS 