Medicine*Music*Chocolate*Life

Absolutely stone-cold BRILLIANT music video from Duran Duran

If you are familiar enough with the life stories of the members of Duran Duran and the supermodels they cast here, you'd understand just how massively genius this thing is.

Sarah-Alexander

The Alexander McQueen collection was so breath-taking - it is the 1st time that I've actually looked at images of a fashion show and shed tears. Oh, Lee. If you could only see her now. Every look was immense. Rodarte can't hold a candle to this detail, nor anyone else to the cut and proportion. I'm palpitating.

Back From Bangalore (Part 4)

That Sunday morning, we awoke to more music blaring next door. Man, these guys don't rest much.

After dolling up in a suitably festive dress, earrings, heels and bag, we trooped on over to have breakfast in the basement of the wedding hall. It's a great idea.

Rows and rows of banquettes and benches with banana leaves laid out and anchored by bottles of mineral water. You just sit down, and the waiters come by with buckets of condiments and trays of paratha, rotis and more. Everyone piles a bit from their container on your banana leaf, and there you go.

They keep circling back too, for seconds and thirds.

One hapless friend shook his head for "no" - and shouldn't have. A side-to-side head motion in India means "yes" so he got another serving of dhal. After he got over his giggles at being silly/misunderstood, he used his hand, palm-down, to indicate "stop feeding me, I'm bursting at the seams".

When done, one only had to fold up the banana leaf, and a designated waiter scooped everything up into his slush-bucket. Then we joined the queue for thick, hot, sweet shots of coffee. Whoo. That really woke me up.

High on sugar and caffeine, we bounced back up into the main wedding hall and witnessed the wedding proper. Bride and groom underwent the rituals and rites of blessing, and the priest took them through the ceremony with a lit flame.

Song-note of the moment:

 

We then went back over to the hotel to pack, and changed down into clothes suitable for a temple visit. Our new friends threw us all in the hired cars, and we left to visit the Golden Temple of Vellore.

Back From Bangalore (Part 3)

After an afternoon spent bumping over rocky roads across the vast plains of Tamil Nadu, we arrived at our destination. The music was already pumping - tablas! pipes! song!

We quickly checked in and refreshed ourselves. Luckily the wedding hall was just next door.

The troops gathered in the lobby and we walked over. Bride and groom were standing on stage, receiving guests and well-wishes. We sat for a while, watching the band regale the crowd with old favourites and new Bollywood pop. A few families danced when some tunes came on.

Truly it was just like a movie.

The ladies were in heavily-detailed evening sarees and layers of finely-worked gold, gold, gold. Sparkling and sweet, like champagne. The gentlemen were handsome in debonair suits and dhotis, mustaches groomed and scarves thrown over shoulders. Children ran underfoot, chasing one another to the tune of the exciting music.

Song-note of the moment:

 

After some time, and mild interrogation by the groom's aunts, we lined up to go up on stage to add our well-wishes. After photographs and laughs, we left the wedding hall to have dinner at a restaurant across the road.

It was the 1st time that I've had to cross a road in India. Not a small one. A city center road, complete with swerving trucks, overladen horse-carts, crazy autos, heaving buses, and random cyclists and reckless bikers. O-M-G.

Well, we made it in one piece across and had a sumptious dinner with our new friends. After food, they introduced us to an indian singing game - someone starts, and the next party has to belt out a song that starts with the alphabet that the previous song ended on.

I bit my lip and held on to my one trump card - the one Hindi love song that Samantha had taught me ages ago when we were high on whiskey in university. Thankfully I didn't have to sing at all - playing the demure wife does wonders.

We had a late night. Hubby passed out in his dinner clothes, but I managed to have a nice hot shower and a scrub. Then it was off to bed, with the promise of an early wedding breakfast, the vows proper, and more songs come morrow.

Back From Bangalore (Part 2)

We reached the city centre in a flurry of night-traffic. Scores of "auto"s (tuk tuks in Thailand) with Vespa engines veered in and out of road lanes dangerously close. Our driver skidded to a near-halt once, only to dash left and accelerate onward, as the new highway to the city disappeared into a pothole the size of a sofa.

However, once we got into the posher part of town, things calmed down tremendously. Directly opposite the Bangalore Turf Club was our digs for the night - the eminently swank Taj West End. Imagine Raffles Hotel parked inside the Singapore Botanic Gardens and you'll have a fair idea of how lovely the place is.

Bangalore is in Karnataka, and is known as the Garden City of India. It is the 3rd most populous urban area, and is growing at an alarming rate, boosted by the IT and now the healthcare sectors. The temperature is cool, because of the higher altitude, and while we were there, the air was between 12-26 Celcius.

Hubby and I unpacked a little and then simply chilled out and enjoyed the ambience and amenities of our room. It was quiet too, far from the madding crowd outside, and no little Bean around demanding attention. I'd forgotten how silent the night can be without a little child in the house.

We slept like babies.

The next morning, we explored the grounds of the hotel, and discovered a little shrine at the rear, dedicated to Ganesha, and manned by a very-surprised priest. We apologised and excused ourselves.

Some of our party took an auto into the shopping district. We simply stayed in the grounds to enjoy the greenery. They returned by lunchtime with sarees, silks, and men's suits - ready for the wedding dinner that night.

We had lunch at the Blue Ginger which was lovely. Eight more of the travelling party joined us. They were local to Bangalore, and most of us were in healthcare, so it was easy to make friends and start conversations. Small world that it is, there was someone who had done a fellowship right here, in the same hospital where I work. We traded stories and he asked after the consultants we both knew.

After lunch, we checked out and got into our hired car for the half-day's drive to the town where the wedding would be held, in Tamil Nadu.

Song-note of the moment:

 

Back From Bangalore (Part 1)

"Hello, Dad? Yes, we just got the passports. OK, heading home now, meet you there."

Me on the phone to my dad-in-law, who had just roared his 4-WD out of the driveway of his home to meet us at the airport. As luck would have it, my passport got rushed in time, and we managed to skid back home to snatch a hurried dinner (of cheese-chicken sausges, creamy mash, and salad) before we jumped into his car and raced to Changi.

 Luckily we had checked in online the night before, and hence everything proceeded quite smoothly. We even had time to loiter around in the bookshop before boarding.

While we were at the flight gate, we met our fellow wedding travellers. Three eminent professors (two sans wives, and one with), two peers, and the bridegroom himself (cutting it close!).

Song-note of the moment:

 

Once in our seats and buckled up, I fell asleep. Not in a graceful ladylike way. I merely crashed after weeks and weeks of haggardness. Hubby told me later that he had complained about his non-functional television screen, had two minor altercations with stewards over it, and had spent most of the flight in another seat down the aisle, watching X-Men: First Class.

I was completely and blissfully unaware - "unconscious" is probably a better word to describe what happened to me.

At any rate, I awoke once we touched down in Bangalore International Airport. We fetched our luggage from the conveyer and were whisked away in a hired car to the city centre.

Bengaluran Wedding

The Hubby and I have been invited to a monsoon wedding, Bangalore-style, next weekend.

I'm looking forward to it, as I've never set foot in India, but keeping my fingers crossed that our tourist visas will be ready for collection a scant 3 hours before our flight departs. The lateness is resultant from everyone not thinking about visas. Oh well, tough. It'll be a near-miss by-the-skin-of-teeth thingy.

Since this week at work promises to be one of random madness, I've already packed *smug grin*

Good thing is, the groom is a neurosurgeon and well-organized to a fault. He has already made all necessary travel arrangements and provided enough detail in the itinerary for guests to tell how to dress.

And so.....

For the wedding dinner, I've packed a dark blue T-backed long shift dress spangled throughout with matt silver sequins, and my trusty comfy Prada digitale heels. The ol' trusty gold lambskin Chanel bag will serve for the entire trip, and I'll be doing yellow diamond ear-drops, and a blingy crystal cuff.

For the wedding daytime ceremonies, I'll be in a royal blue jersey bias-cut dress with pearl ear-drops, and a standby dove-grey jacket with white trim.

For the remainder of the trip (meals, dives, drinks, and laughs) it'll be my white drainpipe studded jeans, soft black flats with jet beads, the new Rag & Bone sunnies, and a variety of (hopefully chic) comfy tops, mostly in greens and blues.

For face, I'll be doing sunscreen sunscreen sunscreen in the form of tinteds and BBs, with SPF'd powder over the top, black mascara (a gift from CM), and rose or red lips.

I still need to book a facial and do my nails before leave. Sigh. There isn't any time for it! (photo below from this site.)

 

Auguries of Innocence - William Blake

Most people quote only the 1st bit of this long and fascinating Blake:

To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.

A robin redbreast in a cage
Puts all heaven in a rage.

A dove-house fill'd with doves and pigeons
Shudders hell thro' all its regions.
A dog starv'd at his master's gate
Predicts the ruin of the state.

A horse misused upon the road
Calls to heaven for human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted hare
A fibre from the brain does tear.

A skylark wounded in the wing,
A cherubim does cease to sing.
The game-cock clipt and arm'd for fight
Does the rising sun affright.

Every wolf's and lion's howl
Raises from hell a human soul.

The wild deer, wand'ring here and there,
Keeps the human soul from care.
The lamb misus'd breeds public strife,
And yet forgives the butcher's knife.

The bat that flits at close of eve
Has left the brain that won't believe.
The owl that calls upon the night
Speaks the unbeliever's fright.

He who shall hurt the little wren
Shall never be belov'd by men.
He who the ox to wrath has mov'd
Shall never be by woman lov'd.

The wanton boy that kills the fly
Shall feel the spider's enmity.
He who torments the chafer's sprite
Weaves a bower in endless night.

The caterpillar on the leaf
Repeats to thee thy mother's grief.
Kill not the moth nor butterfly,
For the last judgement draweth nigh.

He who shall train the horse to war
Shall never pass the polar bar.
The beggar's dog and widow's cat,
Feed them and thou wilt grow fat.

The gnat that sings his summer's song
Poison gets from slander's tongue.
The poison of the snake and newt
Is the sweat of envy's foot.

The poison of the honey bee
Is the artist's jealousy.

The prince's robes and beggar's rags
Are toadstools on the miser's bags.
A truth that's told with bad intent
Beats all the lies you can invent.

It is right it should be so;
Man was made for joy and woe;
And when this we rightly know,
Thro' the world we safely go.

Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.

The babe is more than swaddling bands;
Every farmer understands.
Every tear from every eye
Becomes a babe in eternity;

This is caught by females bright,
And return'd to its own delight.
The bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar,
Are waves that beat on heaven's shore.

The babe that weeps the rod beneath
Writes revenge in realms of death.
The beggar's rags, fluttering in air,
Does to rags the heavens tear.

The soldier, arm'd with sword and gun,
Palsied strikes the summer's sun.
The poor man's farthing is worth more
Than all the gold on Afric's shore.

One mite wrung from the lab'rer's hands
Shall buy and sell the miser's lands;
Or, if protected from on high,
Does that whole nation sell and buy.

He who mocks the infant's faith
Shall be mock'd in age and death.
He who shall teach the child to doubt
The rotting grave shall ne'er get out.

He who respects the infant's faith
Triumphs over hell and death.
The child's toys and the old man's reasons
Are the fruits of the two seasons.

The questioner, who sits so sly,
Shall never know how to reply.
He who replies to words of doubt
Doth put the light of knowledge out.

The strongest poison ever known
Came from Caesar's laurel crown.
Nought can deform the human race
Like to the armour's iron brace.

When gold and gems adorn the plow,
To peaceful arts shall envy bow.
A riddle, or the cricket's cry,
Is to doubt a fit reply.

The emmet's inch and eagle's mile
Make lame philosophy to smile.
He who doubts from what he sees
Will ne'er believe, do what you please.

If the sun and moon should doubt,
They'd immediately go out.
To be in a passion you good may do,
But no good if a passion is in you.

The whore and gambler, by the state
Licensed, build that nation's fate.
The harlot's cry from street to street
Shall weave old England's winding-sheet.

The winner's shout, the loser's curse,
Dance before dead England's hearse.

Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born,
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.

Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.

We are led to believe a lie
When we see not thro' the eye,
Which was born in a night to perish in a night,
When the soul slept in beams of light.

God appears, and God is light,
To those poor souls who dwell in night;
But does a human form display
To those who dwell in realms of day.

Moron from TV

Went to lunch with the family today, and as usual food and company were excellent.

The only thing that spoiled the day was this moron from local television. I cannot possibly imagine what makes anyone think that once they are part of a TV show (with a viewership less than the inhabitants of any single global city), they have to behave badly.

Have you ever been on a flight on which a comedy was showing on the inflight system, and someone was enjoying it in the dead of night-flight with earplugs on? They laugh, don't they? At a normal volume which they cannot discern, but sounds awfully loud and annoying.

This dude was doing that same hee-haw sudden laugh, but it was completely intentional, attention-seeking and RUDE. It was made amply worse by the fact that he was dressed in a shirt that looked like the national flag lost a fight with Levi Strauss, with aviator shades that should have stayed in a 1970's B-movie.

Fame and upbringing, it would seem, ARE mutually-exclusive in this vile specimen. Ugh.

Hot Sunshine

This is fast becoming the colour of the season.

Lots of press around Malaysia recently from the Bersih 2.0 rally in KL, and then a smattering of news about satellite Bersih rallies in other parts of the world. Then this a few days ago, of the royal encounter.

A hundred things can be interpreted from this snapshot, but none of them may be correct. Of course, everyone has an opinion.

In the meantime, it may be best for hawaiian printed shirts to come back into fashion. That's pretty safe in South East Asia, I think. At least avoid monochromatic tee-shirt choices, especially if you're on one of those tours with many legs in different countries here, and random "shopping days" when the guides dump you in the middle of downtown-somewhere with locals up to your eyeballs.