As I lamented silently in my corner, I felt three pairs of eyes on me, watching my every movement. I smelled the sweet scent of my unexpected visitors, and suddenly, life wasn’t so bad after all; females were all around me AND at the same time, interested in me. I rarely had female company and the change was welcome. Of course, there is my ‘master’, but I doubt I’ll ever be able to see her in any other way than that of the person because of whom I was separated from loved ones. Anyway, the two other faces were new to me and they didn’t really seem that mean.
But little did I know of the whimsical nature of the fair sex for my experience was only limited to my sisters and their friends who had never been that interested in me. Some experience wouldn’t hurt, I thought to myself as I tried to remember the tips my older brothers gave me.

Rule No. 1: Make as if you’re not interested.

Which was exactly what I did. I wasn’t sure that this would work out for I simply couldn’t imagine how ignoring someone could make him or her attracted to you. And of course, as I thought, it didn’t work for as soon as I hid my head in the wood shavings on the floor. They left me alone again for some filthy human food… Well, it did mean I could go back to sleep, which I did eventually.

And back I went to dreaming of that beautiful girl… But this bliss would not last long. Again I felt the earth shaking. What was it now? Another earthquake? I sleepily opened my eyes to see the three girls back again. They were chatting amongst themselves, laughing, while ogling me with renewed interest. I can’t say this admiration didn’t flatter me, but I was still a bit shy about it!

Rule No.2: Show them your good side.

Which I promptly applied myself to. I scurried around in my cage, digging around and sniffing the air, for the two new girls’ sweet perfume. I climbed around, delighted to hear their “Ohhs” and “Ahhs”, and their excited comments, the words of which I alas could not understand. I was proud of myself and wanted to show off more. So I decided to climb up my yellow wheel. I usually hated that, but, I had to if I wanted to bask longer in the limelight!
But my usual laziness had gotten me rusty. I couldn’t handle being inside the wheel, so I climbed up, on the wheel, as I was used to… Alas, I couldn’t keep my balance for long, and I fell from the yellow thing countless times, each rewarded by peals of laughter from the ladies. I was so humiliated, but I didn’t give up. I was determined to impress the girls, and so decided to try the “one hand gym” on the wheel with one paw holding the bars of the cage and the other turning the wheel, which of course which somehow really made the girls amazingly happy. I tried to stay on for as long as I could, but I soon was out of breath and so very tired… Damn laziness, I cursed myself.
And no need to say that after wasting so much energy in trying to impress the girls, I was hungry, which didn’t go unnoticed by my ‘master’. She showed her friends how I could elegantly take sunflower seeds from people, and each of them took turns to give me one, which I immediately hid in my mouth. “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach”, they must have heard that for after sunflower seeds came the delicious biscuits. However, I am not too proud for what came after…

I have this really bad habit of keeping everything in my mouth until nobody is watching and I can finally eat in peace. My mouth had already grown huge from the biscuits and seeds, and I didn’t want to take them out in front of the girls. That wasn’t really graceful, I knew that. But some minutes after, when I realised they were not ready to give me some privacy my belly was looking for, I gave up. Trying to hide what I was doing, I took the food out and hid it in the wood shavings, praying that they would go away now. The total opposite happened… My actions somehow intrigued them and now, they were watching even closer.

“Ah, and to hell with them!”

I looked for my biscuits in the mess I had foolishly created myself, still trying to hide when I heard the shutter sound of a camera. I simply couldn’t believe that they dared to take pictures of me without permission. My master had allowed it of course but I was in no way eager to pose for a bunch of girls. I had my dignity. It seemed that they had been taking pictures since the very beginning and I hadn’t even realised it. I had been too engrossed in trying to impress them. I tried to go far away from them, so that they wouldn’t be able to take the pictures, but that seemed futile. As soon as I went to the other side, they would turn my cage in the other way, so that I was facing them again. I wonder how many times we went through this, until I got tired of them and decided to have a nap.

By then, my master had already left me alone; she was already aware of my simple routine of eating and then sleeping which I faked every now and then when she showed some interest in me. However, it seemed that this feint wasn’t going to work on the newcomers. They did their very best to get me moving again, and it worked. I tried really hard not to let them have the upper hand but I gave up, they were too strong. But the worse was yet to come for the real torture hadn’t even begun yet.

Gone were the thoughts of trying to impress them as I switched to Survival Mode 101. I told myself I had to get through this and I barely made it alive. I remember running around everywhere, climbing up and down the ladder, jumping from my little house and having my little bowl kidnapped. I thought of escaping a few times but that was even worse. Everyday I try to gnaw my way out of the cage hoping that my sharp teeth would be enough to cut through them, and I wonder what made me think that it was going to work this time. I was desperate. I had to get away from the physical and mental torture these human girls were giving me and anything was welcome. I was too fat to be able to pass through the iron bars, too short to jump and too slow to climb when they opened the trap. In brief, their huge sizes made sure they had the upper hand.

They tried to ask for forgiveness with some biscuits, which tasted differently from what I usually was used to. It was really sweet and it melted in my mouth. No need to say that I waited for more, sniffing around to make them understand. I should really stop that for it simply brought more torture again as they put one biscuit near the cage and took it away when I reached for it. They even had the guts to rub some of it on my cage to have stupid me gnaw it again. Really, how I wished these walls didn’t separated us and I couldn’t show them who I really was.
I only had only one option left; I had no choice but to use the old spell my father taught me to get rid of evil beings. I wasn’t sure I would be able to do it for never before had I been in a situation where I had to use it. I said the spell over and over again, hoping for some miracle to happen… I couldn’t believe it when the laughter died and it was all silent again. It worked, the spell had worked. It hadn’t been as powerful as it should have been but it stopped their evil mind from taking over my little space. They had quietly put be back on the table and left the room without looking back….

I did hear their voices again when they were leaving or was it just a dream? I do not know. I remembered the voice of my master forbidding them to approach me before I fell into deep slumber…

~Piyoule, The Mutant Hamster

Knowing that a full-proof plan was needed, for, of course, we were going to be bombarded with questions about the why and stuff. The best strategy needed to be adapted to get past the barriers our supermoms created, and after dropping clever hints for months and crafting the perfect reasons, we decided to present our cases to our mothers. We almost jumped in joy when we heard the oh-so-awaited “yes” uttered by our mothers! We had wanted this for a long time, but somehow everything was rushed. The previous week, I told the girls that they could come whenever they want, and suddenly, Wednesday arrived, with me hurrying to go meet them.

It was decided to meet in town first, for a trip to the beauty salon (yes, it would seem in the past months our feminine side had been awakened). A quick remake of “The Grudge” (with Nus in the main role) later, we finally made way for Nus’s place where what would be the craziest day of our life would soon begin! Lying on the sofa bed which since 2007 has been witnessing our girly meetings, with Nus’ feet somewhere where they shouldn’t have been, we started playing our favourite Top 5 game, which somehow switched from Top 5 to Top Worst and vice versa, as per the whims of the ‘not-so-womanly woman of the house’.

The Nus

But doing the same things over and over again do tend to be tiring, no matter how fun they are. Five cards later, we were under the blankets, talking about god-knows-what, until we fell on my “cute perfumed diary” as Sayuka so perfectly described in 2002. No need to say that what was written in it was mostly embarrassing for Sayuka and G. We really were dying of laughter as we went through the pages… 2002 was the year Sayuka, G. and I met, though I doubt we’ll ever remember how Sayuka and I met really. However, if there’s something we’re not likely to forget, it’s how we practically hated each other. And the not-so-perfected sarcastic tone of Sayuka’s note just reminded us of that time, upon which, we laughed even more.

The Revelation

After taking a break for some calorie intake, we continued till the very last page, reading out the very limited intellectual abilities of us kids when we were 12 years old. G couldn’t stay for the night, so she went home at about 3, promising to comeback the day after.

Huge Calorie Intake

With just the two of us alone now, Nus and I decided to continue talking, jumping, as was our habit, from one subject to the next, till we were called for dinner. After which, back upstairs, tucked under the blanket again, we decided to watch an old Olsen Twins movie. Movie time was also cuddling time, as I soon learned; for as soon as Nus didn’t want to continue watching the screen, she snuggled teasingly against me, which earned her a good deal of “Leave Me alone” and slaps. But soon, we grew tired of the movie, and stopped watching altogether, going back to discussing matters that were worrying us. It was the time for a truly open-hearted conversation, with our feelings and emotions laid bare.

“Hey, let’s get on the bed, okay? We’ll fall asleep here, if that continues,” said Nus, some hour later, eyelids drooping and voice all sleepy. It was true; the demons of sleep were sneaking on us. So we grudgingly went to make the bed and sunk underneath the 4 layers of thick blanket. We were expecting to fall asleep as soon as our heads hit the pillows, but the night was far from over.

From the serious topics on the sofa bed, we indulged in the silliest conversation ever, unable to laugh for everyone was asleep already! We stifled laughter and giggles as each of us added to the silliness of the conversation, so much that the 4 supposedly heavy blankets were flung off us as easily as a simple cover would! A blanket war later, we were left feeling as hot as in summer, suffocating under the blankets. It was time for a change of scenery: off went two of the heaviest blankets. Once again under the covers, we resumed the conversation. It was time for Nussie to feel all affectionate and clingy, sinking low in the bed and snuggling close to me. As I flung off her arms and pushed her unmoving body away, Nus protested in the most innocent manner: “But there’s no room! Don’t push me!” Needless to say there was still half of the bed left on her side, but the little missy’s love was overwhelming and she couldn’t keep her hands to herself, despite my harsh words and kicks and punches! So I gave up, and let her do as she pleased (it was easier to let her do that; for fighting her off made her more clingy -.-)

We soon came to a realization: Nus and I were through and through closet perverts xD. We couldn’t help it! I witnessed a quick parody of “Spiderman” starring Nus, and learned that her legs were in fact a sack of potatoes! So the laughter doubled and the antics intensified, so much that we didn’t see the time pass. A glance at the clock, or more exactly Nus’s phone, told us it was almost 3 in the morning! We decided to have some rest, for we didn’t want to be Zombies and miss the fun the next day!

I remember waking up to my mom opening the door to my room. As per her usual routine, she went to feed the fish and at the same time, stole the empty cookies box which still is lying on my kitchen shelf. My last thought before I fell in deep slumber again was “I can’t believe she’s not banging doors today”, which is part of her daily routine as well. I woke up again to the really loud vibrations of my cellphone. It was G. sending me an sms, telling us that she would be coming at 11.30 a.m. instead of the 10.00 a.m we had agreed to. So far, so good, for I wasn’t sure we would have been ready at 10. I showed Sayuka the message and I think we both fell asleep again, to wake up to the deafening alarm clock of my cellphone. Maybe it was time to wake up after all, but… sleep was the only thing on my mind…

Sayuka, being the most reasonable one, got out of bed immediately. I watched her as she went to and from the connected living room in search of her stuff, not that I could actually see her very clearly. I was without my glasses, very sleepy and half of my face was covered with the blanket. I think she talked to me, but I can’t really remember. It was only when she went to the other room that I decided to get out of sweet heaven as well.

I heard Nus getting out of bed and going to brush her teeth. By that time, I was on her arm chair, watching her goldfish doing their morning gym, feeling very sleepy. I came out from my trance-like state by an apparition in pink! “Shall we get breakfast,” Nus asked. Nodding, I followed her downstairs where Nus presented to me the possible combinations for breakfast. Too tired to bother about my usual preferences, I took a cereal bar, some strawberries and a cup of hot tea, and we went to the table to eat.

We wondered what was on TV as we switched it on. There was a silly cartoon on, and we, or I should say, Nus decided to watch it. So engrossed was she in the show that she started to emulate the characters’ gestures, all the while telling me: “I would never go so far to save you, me, you know?” as a comment on the day’s episode theme. I only nodded and laughed, commenting on how silly the cartoon was! Breakfast done, we cleaned up and went back upstairs. The events that followed are a blur for me. I’m sure we just talked of things, but I can’t really remember what! All I remember is us deciding to shower for it was soon time for G. to come!

Who came at 11.27 a.m. instead of 11.30 a.m. I’m just glad we managed to take a shower before she came, for our pink pajamas weren’t really that welcoming. Sitting in my armchair, G. really looked like a psychologist taken out of her consultation room, as I did when I sat in it the day before. I think it’s the armchair… Anyway, we got the crazy idea to create a mini-movie with me as patient and G. as psychologist. Sayuka was the cameraman, or rather should I say, camerawoman. Though none of us were actors or interested in acting, we do have that hobby of writing mini-scenarios which we would act out. *goes to the times when we were mythology crazy and wrote the domestic disputes of Zeus and Hera*

As the one holding the camera, I couldn’t possibly laugh, much as I would have loved to. Nus was so much in her role of a stingy and frustrated young woman whose husband left her, that she yelled, without mercy, at poor G. who couldn’t keep up with her pace. I tried hard to stifle giggles, concentrating on immortalizing the moment a new actress was born. Finally the mini-movie was done, and I dissolved in uncontrollable laughter at last! Lying again of the sofa-bed, we tried to think of something to do. We had planned so many things, but at that time, they weren’t really that appealing. Until G. voiced out that she wanted to play Barbie.

So off we climbed down the stairs, to what Nus’s Mom had termed: the messy room. Perched on a chair, rummaging through the toy cupboard, Nus gave us item after item, till we no longer could hold anything. While teasing us, Nus’s Mom came to our rescue, with a basket and a plastic bag, that were soon stuffed with toys. Some 15 minutes or so later, we were all ready, and satisfied and giddy with excitement, we returned to Nus’s room for the construction of Dull Town!

Supermom to the Rescue

Sitting on the large carpet, we all started setting up everything, from the bedroom to the garden to the supermarket. We managed to find a use to every single accessories we brought with us and no need to say that we were really innovative for the things that we didn’t have; my cushion cover was turned into the velvet green lawn of the garden, my autumn and mountain themes puzzles became the sceneries and my mom’s tissue box was the small house in the small meadow (la petite maison dans la petite prairie). After shooting some commercials for Sparkling Comestics, we decided to create another mini-movie with the dolls as actors.

Sparkling Cosmetics, “Parce que je le vaux bien”

Starring were, Madeleine Medusa, the famous top model of Sparkling Cosmetics, her lover, Jean Ken, an internationally renowned gymnast and their daughter, Whity Medusa. There also were the peeping tom neighbor, Vosin Voyeur and his gossiper wife, Vosine Voyeur along with the not-so-famous journalist, Jacqueline Fouine, who was looking for the scoop of her life. Oh, I almost forgot Lolita McLust, the AV actress who was on the run from her fans and came for refuge in Dull Town.

A web of stories was spun, as Jean Ken met Lolita McLust and ended up in bed with her and Vosin Voyeur who saw them told his wife who in turn told Jacqueline Fouine. It was really a pity that G. missed the very gory ending we created. Several songs were chosen to suit the scenes we had written and we really are proud that we managed to bring together Beethoven, Dvorzak, Vanessa Mae, Bond, Anna Tsuchiya, Nobuo Uematsu, Alex Chu and Britney Spears. Sayuka and I are really the best team ever, for we do not even have to go into lengthy explanations to know what exactly the other wants, that is really going to be the thing I’d miss the most when I go away in September.
So true… I’ll sure miss it too… I have never met till now someone who could understand what I want without I needing to explain. These two days at Nus’s place has reawakened our complicity, something that I’ll miss when she goes in September. We rediscovered ourselves through the fun, building a closer bond and making the best memories to last us a lifetime. For me, this sleep-over would always remain the best time of my life, one that I would cherish for life.

As it is for me…

This particular moment brings out the most contradictory feelings, for a daughter’s wedding is the time when happiness hand in hand with sorrow sees the bride off to her new home. Which is why weddings are usually celebrated with lots of celebrations because it usually means a new stage of life for the couple, and here in Mauritius, it’s certainly no different. Being quite influenced by both the western and eastern culture, our weddings tend to have a touch of both.

In my family, we have tried to keep most of the rituals, if not all, that one has to go through when getting married, especially for the bride. From what I have experienced, the parents and the relatives all manage to turn the already-not-so-simple wedding into a long one, but one which prepares the bride both mentally… and physically.

Mehndi Ceremony

Mehndi literally means henna and it the day when the bride along with her female relatives and friends get their hands adorned by henna. This is supposed to be an event in itself, for the redness of the henna represents the prosperity that the bride would bring to her new home.

“It is also believed that its aroma cancels the powerful pungent smells of onions and other condiments such as turmeric, garlic and ginger. And hence, when the bride prepares herself to assume her domestic responsibilities, she is not only beautifully bedecked and bejewelled, but also armed for the new chores awaiting her in her new life” – http://www.hinduism.co.za

It is quite difficult to gather all the girls of the family and find enough people to apply the henna, or even impossible. This could take all day and it tends to be not so practical, which is why the Mehndi ceremony has turned into something where the bride shows off the redness of her henna. However to keep this tradition of application of the henna, each married woman applies a touch of henna to the bride’s hand.This is usually carried out Saturday night, when everyone’s free, but it is mostly attended by women. The guys are usually turned into waiters who serve drinks and food to the guests.

Relatives of the groom’s side also attend the ceremony. They usually come at a given time, to bring the clothes and accessories fir the bride for the actual wedding. They also bring lots of sweets and fruits which are considered to be gifts for the bride’s family, an outfit for the bride’s and her mother to wear during the Mehndi ceremony. The first rule of a wedding is that no one should come or leave empty-handed. Therefore, the groom’s relatives are also given gifts (sweets and fruits again), a shirt and accessories for the groom, and an outfit for the groom’s mother.

After this ceremony is over, i.e. after the groom’s relatives have left and everyone can relax again, there usually is singing and dancing. It’s an event which should be celebrated with lots of joy and happiness, so music is definitely a must. However, after this, the bride is forbidden to step out of her home until the time for the wedding arrives.

Walima

Sunday morning at last. There’s lots of preparations to take care of, especially the food for the lunchtime, which is actually the walima. In a Muslim marriage, the most important things are the religious ceremony and the food given out to relatives and friends. These two are compulsory where as the others are just traditions and rituals handed from generations to generations.

On this occasion, lots of people are invited, usually more that 1000. The food served is the biryani, a rice-based meal. The usual ingredients are spices (cardamom, cinnamon, garlic, cloves, etc), ghee, curdled milk, potatoes and the most important, beef. Since there are some people who do not eat beef, or are vegetarians, vegetarian biryani is cooked, on a very small scale. Served with the biryani are pickles (mango, apple, olive and other local fruits which are mixed with oil, salt, chillies and god knows what) and cucumber/carrot salad, which I don’t usually like.

Haldi Ceremony

While most people are occupied with preparation of the food, close female relatives are invited for the Haldi ceremony. Haldi literally means turmeric, and it is the vent in which turmeric is applied on the girls body. The reason this ceremony is held is for the beautification and purification of the bride. Tumeric has lots of cleansing properties, so basically, it’s a personal spa-session for the bride.

During this ceremony, another ritual is carried out, called the kunwar pat. While the application of turmeric is to beautify the appearance, the kunwar pat is more of a psychological preparation. This ritual signifies the end of maidenhood for the bride. For this ritual, kheer, a rice pudding cooked in milk and sugar has to be prepared by a married woman. This has to be eaten by the bride, along with single women in the family (The number of girls accompanying the bride has to be an odd number), who represent the untouched maidenhood of the bride.

What the hell are we doing here?

The kheer is served on banana leaf, and the person who serves it has to take each banana leaf with the kheer on it and rotate it over the girl’s head 7 times. She then asks the bride “Kunwar pat uttarna?” to which the bride should reply “Han”, yes. She is actually asking the bride if her maidenhood is now gone.

Then, all the married women present each have to give their blessings to the bride. A plate is filled with rice and a golden bangle is placed on it. The golden bangle, according to my father, is the sign of a married woman. The plate is kept on the bride’s knees for practical reasons. Each woman takes a coin and rotates it over the bride’s head 7 times. This is then kept in the plate full of rice. Then, taking some rice grains in her hands, she touches it with the bride’s feet, knees, shoulders and head, before throwing in the aanchal, the veil over the hands of the mother. A widow is not allowed to take part in the kunwar pat, for it is believed she will cast her destiny onto the bride.

Do I put it here?

Then comes the fun part. The bride, along with the single women starts eating the kheer. The kheer eating is a version of the tossing away of the bouquet. It’s a race, in which the winner is said to be the next girl to get married.

The Haldi is actually an ancient ritual and is no longer practiced by most people. Usually, the rice throwing is incorporated in the Mehndi ceremony or not carried out at all.

Nikah

The religious ceremony carried out for the wedding is called the Nikah, which is a contract binding the bride and the groom. It is traditionally carried out by the bride’s family. When the bride has already put on her white gown, her father along with two witnesses go to her. She is asked whether she wants to marry the groom. The girl has complete freedom to answer. She has to be willing to take part in the marriage, else everything is cancelled. She has to say it three times that she agrees to take this person as her husband.

Also, the amount of the Mohr, the dower, is decided. This is compulsory, and has to be agreed by both the groom ‘s and the bride’s side. The bride has the right to ask for money or any valuable object, for example, jewellery. However, there are limits to be considered, for example, the financial situation of the groom. This money is for the sole use of the bride and she can do whatever she wants with it.

Afterwards, all the men of the bride’s and groom’s family gather in the mosque, where the Nikah will take place. Women do not go to the mosque; the bride is represented by her father.The bridegroom is asked three times if he wants to take this woman as his bride. Then, the father of the bride will answer in place of his daughter to the same question, and the witnesses will act as… well, witnesses. However, for the Nikah to be valid, both the girl’s and boy’s family has to consent to this wedding.

Afterwards, the Qazi or Imam, the priest, will deliver his Khutba, a sermon, in which he recites Qu’ran verses stating the obligations towards the woman. The Qazi will explain the rights and obligations of the husband and wife, and will declare them as husband and wife. The bridegroom also has to drink half of a glass of water with sugar.

Wedding Reception

A stage is usually set up, where the bride and her bridesmaid sit, waiting for the Nikah to be over and for the groom to come. All family and relatives usually attend this reception. Everyone is given aniseed mixed with small sweets or praline. It is considered to be auspicious to sweetened one’s mouth, which is why sweets are used on a very large scale on weddings.

When the Nikah is over, a close male relative (usually the brother or cousin) brings the glass of sweetened water and make the bride drink. This may be considered as an indirect kiss, finalizing the Nikah. The bride has to drink all of it.

There one ritual that I just learned about and that’s the application of sandalwood paste on the girl’s head. The sandal wood is crushed and mixed with attar, a perfume. A white opaque veil is lifted before the couple, then the groom applies the paste on the girl’s head. Nobody is allowed to see this, which is why it has to be hidden. It is originally an Indian custom and is a version of the Hindu’s ritual of applying sindoor to a girl’s head.

Then comes the cake cutting, the cake eating, the family photos, etc.

When it’s time to leave, the bride takes with her lots of cakes, halwa and a set of wine glasses filled with sugar. Sweetness is considered to be lucky after all.

Hmmm, yummy cakes!

Chauthari or Chauthi

Techinically, this means fourth, meaning, four days after the wedding. Again, due to impractical reasons, the Chauthari is held one day after the wedding. This is the first time the girl’s family is receiving the couple as a married one and it has to be perfect.

Some relative of the groom’s family accompany the couple on this day. They are served with cocktails, the main course and dessert. The food served is kheer and dholl puri, rice and curry, accompanied with salad and/or pickles.

Do you think we’ll get one?

Then the guest are left to themselves while the married couple go to talk to everyone, etc. There usually is a lot of fun during the Chauthari with lots of games and all. In my family, we usually play with baby powder, and in the end, everyone turns white.

However, the atmosphere turns quite gloomy when the time arrives for the couple to leave. They greet each and everyone of the girl’s family and no need to say that there are some tears that come to the eyes. The Rukhsati, the time to say goodbye sure is the saddest part of a wedding, when it’s time to say goodbye to the bride.

My brother-in-law bathed in coconut water, baby powder and egg, gifted with coconuts because he won the musical chairs

Coincha

No there’s not yet another ceremony. This is actually a ritual carried out during the wedding. Sunday morning, before the Haldi, the bride’s mother take a white handkerchief and fills it with rice. Then, she goes to each and everyone of the family and asks them for money. This money supposedly acts as a protection for the girl, and she has to carry it with her all the time throughout the wedding. It also acts as a blessing from all the family members.
On Sunday, when she reaches her husbands house, the bride gives this to her mother-in-law who takes most of the money and adds aniseed to the rice. She keeps the money so that when the next day, when she goes to her mother’s, she doesn’t take all the blessings with her.

The next day, when the bride goes for the Chauthari, she gives her mother the Coincha. Her mother, takes out some of the rice and aniseed, to prevent her daughter to take all the prosperity from her home and adds more money, which the bride takes to her new home and which she keeps for herself.

This marks the end of a Mauritian Muslim Wedding, which I believe in itself is a beauty.

The wedding preparations are still going on, but we are kinda relieved since all the clothes and shoes have been packed. Right now, it’s the henna application time, my favourite. I’ve always loved having henna applied to my hands, ever since I was a little girl. And here in my house, we’ve been very lucky since my aunt is a professional at doing this job. When we were kids, my cousins and I, she would usually use us as lab rats to test her new henna she made or designs and we would simply love it.

What is even more wonderful is to wake up in the morning to see that it’s gone all dark red or near black.. The first thing I would usually do is rush to my mother’s room to show her how dark the henna on my hand is. Sometimes we would even compare our hands to see which is darker. There is this saying that the darker the colour comes, the more your husband loves you, which is why there were times I’d tell her that Dad loves us very much (I did want to marry my dad when I was little). I still do tell her that and she always smiles when I do.

If there’s another thing I love, it’s how everyone pampers me; you can’t usually use your hands if the henna hasn’t dried up yet and that’s when you can take advantage of everyone. *smirks* During these times, my father is at my beck and call, ready to do anything I ask of him, now isn’t that heaven?

Well, I was in heaven yesterday. My aunts took more than two hours to complete everything and it was worth every second spent waiting. It was very cold though, and the cold lizard that I am was even colder. It didn’t help that I wasn’t able to wear a pullover or something, so I just had my dad to put a small blanket over me, which didn’t do anything really.

Hurry up, it’s cold

Is it over yet?

I wanted my hands to go really dark, which is why I’ve tried to keep them warm all the time. Yesterday, when the henna dried up, I converted my father’s new socks into gloves (he doesn’t have to know they were his new socks) and have been wearing them since then. I’ve, of course, switched to plastic gloves when handling water since I do no want them to get wet and my precious woolen gloves when I was out. Everybody was looking at me, thinking that I must have been really cold but then, they didn’t know the truth behind the gloves…

My efforts have really paid, okay maybe my father’s, since he was the one who applied lime juice and balm to my hands which have turned real dark and would be even darker tomorrow. It would be perfect. For now, it’s my mother’s turn to be pampered…

Will it turn darker?

Sure enough, for the past month, all I remember doing really is shopping, lots of shopping, which I don’t really mind if shoes are involved (what is it about women and shoes, you don’t want to know), but just remembering the whole range of clothes and jewellery and accessories I had to review makes me feel dizzy. Traditional, formal, casual, you name it and I’ve seen it. My mother wanted to wear blue for the wedding and she ended up with like 5 dresses with practically all shades, from light blue to blue-green, not counting the ones I forced her not to take with us.

As a result, we’ve got a whole suitcase packed, the type of suitcase you use when you are travelling, except we are not travelling, we are simply going to a wedding. For a weekend. For two days. And while I am here whining about my mom’s craze, I also have like half a dozen packed, or more; I still have not decided on the ones I’m going to wear.

Are weddings always that hectic?

The first words that came to my mom’s mouth were “how uncivilised!”. No need to say that the same words sprang to my mind as this scene appeared before me. It was really disheartening to see a place where people usually come to relax in the morning before starting out a stressing day. Frankly speaking, it was disturbing; I still cannot get out that picture out of my head, and neither can my mom. All we can think about is this big mess, wondering how people could be so primitive as to pollute a public place and not even reflect on their actions.

And what about the laws that had been passed to prevent such things from happening? It’s not even allowed to drink alcohol or smoke in a public place, yet I cannot say how many bottles of rum or cigarettes packs I found on the ground. There should have been police and military officers present there, there always are. Oh but I forgot, they usually turn a blind eye to what is usually happening around them, certainly in the circumstances which brought about such disorder.

1st May, a public holiday for us Mauritians, and an ‘opportunity’ for our so-called politicians to convert people to their cause during the yearly gatherings that take place at different places on the islands. Of course, it would be too good to be true if they could actually stick to saying whatever they PLAN to do, instead of constantly repeating what they DID when they were at power or better, what other politicians from different parties did wrongly. It’s actually amazing that people go listen to the same nonsensical speech every year and actually buy what they say.
Of course, we shouldn’t forget that some of these people have been ‘recruited’ under the tables, to make it seem that lots of people came. Somehow, politicians seem to fight like kids when it comes to the number of people attending their gathering. It usually starts with “I had more people than you” to end up with “you resorted to dirty tricks to make it look you had lots of people.”

Reminds me of yesterday, when my mom asked me: “See this place? Do you know why it’s small? That’s because on TV, it’ll look as if many people came since they’ll be practically on top of each other.” That was so hilarious!
Honestly, I think Politics is slowly ruining our country… It’s like in tennis, we go from one player to another, until one sends us out of the court, which marks the end.

One man’s gain is equal to another man’s loss.

This might be one of the oldest theories in Economics; there can never be two winners, one always has to lose. However, it’s unbelievable how the contrary cannot be applied to all the cases. Someone’s loss might result in another’s loss or gain; it’s a 50-50 risk that one might have to take sometimes. While most economists seek for a balance in such an imperfect world, one cannot help but feel the imbalance that threatens to attach itself to the future generations; the widening gap between prosperous countries and the poverty-stricken others being the most noticeable of all.

What comes to mind when one think about the gloomy destinies of poor countries? Hunger: they are flagged with that one word, the picture of several skinny children coming to mind, and staying what they are, a picture… soon to be discarded for the frivolous and materialistic desires that we harbour and which might not be important. How many times have we thought of the plight of these dying nations, then instantly forgotten about it all because “we had better things to do”? I’m not asking for answer, just trying to make you see the darkest corners of human beings: to always think about us first. Yet, it is the fate of us, privileged beings of society, to complain about our comforts when others lack the very basic needs required to survive in our merciless world.

It’s not our fault for being so selfish; we simply are not aware of the pain and torture some people go through everyday, just because they live in those parts of the globe where even finding one grain of rice is considered to be a miracle. How many of you have ever spent days without eating or even having a single drop to drink? No one, I believe. While some go hungry deliberately to get the perfect body or simply because they ‘forgot’ to eat, others have no choice but bear the unpleasant feeling of the stomach growling and seeking for food everyday because they cannot afford to buy food.

Such a picture can bring tears to the most hardhearted of us, for simply imagining how it would feel pains the heart. And of course, regarding such matters, our imaginations tend to be quite limited. I’m not suggesting that you go on a hunger-strike just to be able to brag you didn’t eat anything for days, there’s no point to it. I was simply wondering if it were too much to ask to give those people a little thought and act on that. The whole objective of this post was to create awareness among internauts, and maybe indirectly help end this crisis of world hunger which has been prevailing since the beginning of times. I asked myself, will this article really help to that?

I had doubts, and I still have them. Some may consider this to be just a good read: “Yeah, yet another idealist, as if we didn’t have enough”. Others might just ignore the whole point and forget about it the second they close the page. Or worst, it might get lost among the thousands posts being written on the subject today. However, I’m still writing it, for even a small contribution might tilt the flow of this crisis. Just like a small action from you might be the reason for the change in these people’s fortune.

Standing for something isn’t just about writing it down. It’s about believing it and living it.

Which I believe I will, in a few months, given the field of study I chose…

Silence! These voices jingling in my head;
Playing that infamous melody as they do,
My eyes cannot see, but alas, I do hear.
It’s all in the mind some say, but then…
Why do I hear them, as if close they are?

Little by little, I get adjusted to that sight;
The deepness of darkness, or is it just…
Just an illusion, as they all say… Mirage.
Is it really all in the mind? Then why?
Lies. Reality this can all be, will it?

Hear! That jingle again! The one that…
No, you can’t hear it, can you? I do.
It’s calling for it, or him. I do not know.
That beautiful creature. I do see now.
She’s the source of all emotions. Mine.

Upon that day, I call upon my star.
My birth it protected, my death it will.
Star of Fate, hear me as I speak.
Lend me your light, as you had once.
I might fight, they say. I know I will.

Cries piercing through the night. Howls.
Come to me, ordinary beast you are.
I heard it. She knew I did. I hear it again.
She calls to me, like some ocean nymph.
Crimson eyes, but pure black hair.

Is that a laugh? I might have to bear.
She seeks my blood, I seek hers.
Good or evil, none we might be.
Fate’s glory came at last, or did it really?
It is the end, at the very least, for me.

Do not mind me. I didn’t. For others.
Such things I was told, they held true.
A jingle you will now hear. I feel it.
Don’t you understand? It’s your turn.
To write the ode to your tainted dreams.

1. Have friends over.
2. Gossip.
3. Play card games.
4. Truth or Dare.
5. Lie around lazily.

The whims of the weather god, they want to keep the sun for themselves. They say, we humans are too inferior to be protected by the radiant sun. So, instead we get the gloomy cloud and the depressing rain. Wait, who said rain was depressing? It might be the most amazing thing ever…. when you’re inside the house!

Sayuka and G. came by today, after such a long time. True enough, I met them a week ago for my birthday, but having them at home is really different from meeting in a public place for lunch or something. It was like, we were all alone (excluding the times my mom came to bring us food), without any worries or hassles, just us having a bit of fun… and fun we had!

With me and my collection of games (can still hear the girls saying “Wow”), I already knew we were going to have a great time… I am a game addict, just like my father, which is why we end up buying like every single game we see. And as every collector, card games are a must… Actually, we girls started out with Monopoly, until G. took out the board and saw that there was nothing else in the box. All the cards, dice, houses were in a bag, along with the ping pong balls (which I was crazy about today), which made us not want to take everything out… or was it that the girls not wanting to have a cheating me on their hands? I wonder…

So, in the end, we started out with the Top 5 card game, which is supposed to be a “talking” game… Was the only one I didn’t want to play, and I think we’d have missed a lot if we hadn’t chosen it. It started with naming only the top 5 as the cards indicated, to slowly be followed by our craziness like…

“Name the top 5 memorable tv advertisements”

Sayuka: ” One, I don’t watch TV, Two, I don’t have a TV, Three, the TV is not mine…”

I’m not sure you want to know the 5 top tunes I’d like to dance to…. They are so… I’m not telling… Speaking of songs, I forgot to add we were accompanied by my not so innocent playlist as background music, along with the occasional depressing songs or my favourite ballads hated by everyone. I can’t help it if I have such complex taste in music. *grin*

As the card games craze continued, we went towards “Old Maid” which is where my poker face should have come in handy and it didn’t… It was so easy to read G.’s face that Sayuka knew already who had the Queen of Spade. Me. I did manage to pass her the card, which she gave to G. afterwards, who ended up being the old maid. I wanted so much to have a game of Bullshit (should I censor this word?) but the girls totally refused. It seems, I resort to mean tricks when I play that. No, I don’t, I promise. *suddenly think of the famous Bullshit game two years ago* Okay, maybe I’m a bit mean. I just like to see my opponents in trouble, rather than winning myself.

Which is why, I kept the Draw Four card in UNO, when I could have used it to win first. Instead I gave it to Sayuka just after she said Uno…

Disclaimer: Anything I do during games does not reflect my true character. Or maybe it does.

Finally, came the ultimate Turn the … Umbrella game. We had a bottle, but it was half full, which is why we ended up with the umbrella. Sayuka’s pink umbrella. At first, we started with alternate “truths” “dares”, to afterwards, exile the “dare” part. Not that we didn’t dare. We just were lazy to move around. Sayuka did say something funny though.

I quote: “Well, truth or dare, it doesn’t matter. It seems she’d do every disguting thing we’d ask her to do.” End of quote.

No, I wouldn’t. I did say to keep disgusting things at arm’s length. On the other hand, the “Truth” part turned out to be an excuse to have a real serious talk between us girls, not that I’d divulge our secrets out here.

All I can say… can’t wait to have another one.

P.S. Sayuka has been posting her literary works online for some time now. You can check them out at http://sayuka.wordpress.com/

I got up from the bed, feeling older and grumpier. It was still early, and I had absolutely nothing to in the morning, as my mom later pointed out. My bowl of cereal with me, I wondered if anybody would be online at that time. Sure enough, C. was online, much to my surprise, from which a great conversation or rather, a heated discussion started about whether I was older or more mature. Of course, I chose the second one, for obvious reasons, of course; who in his right mind wants to be called old? C. maybe. =P

But then, I realized, this was the end of yet another chapter of my life. I still am not ready to accept the fact that I just entered the last year of my teens. Or the fact that it might be the last time celebrating the event with my friends. I can feel lots of negative feeling coming from this post. *sigh* Bad karma. :p

I decided to cast all those thoughts away just for today, and well it was worth it. Between the failed marriage proposal from Sayuka and the waiters singing (my most embarrassing moment), not to mention our kodak moments while feeling every eye on us, I hardly had any time to think about all those.

Oh, and the gifts were absolutely gorgeous: the small pendant representing my birthday stone, the little teddy bear souvenir and The Secret, one of my favourite books I lost some months ago. I couldn’t ask for more. The cards made me smile, with G. trying out poetry and Sayuka reminding me of my old theory on the B word; unconsciously we’re celebrating us being closer to our deaths. Now that is yet another story, which maybe I’ll write about some day.

Sinful as they are, the chocolate cakes were über delicious. Yes, cakes. I actually got two, one from my parents and one from my friends. Who can resist chocolate? Certainly not me. There’s some left in the fridge, but I’m not sure it is going to stay there for long. Slurp.