Wingardium Leviosa!

Monday, March 14, 2011

ChelCs day out as a Bohri!

When I went over to stay at  M's place, the last thing I expected was to be dolled up! Okay, not exactly dolled up, but close to that, considering I am the right size for 'N' number of my girlfriends who love to play 'dress up' with me. We spent the night eating strawberries with fresh cream outside Bachelors at Chowpatty (two cups.. YUMMY) and then me having my few last practice driving sessions days before I went to give my F1 test. For some reason I love second gear. Yeah, go figure!

Let me tell you a little bit about M - An angel disguised as a devil... Hahaha. Anyway, she is a Bohri Muslim. Now, my knowledge is very limited with regards to the Bohri community, so any Bohri's out there who read this ever - please note all information posted up has been given by said friend. Please talibanize her.

So first up, Bohri's are not allowed to touch strings of any kind. WHAT!!! I mean musical instruments. What garbage I hear you say? Exactly my sentiments. I mean you hear so many Muslim sitarists and guitarists... Well, I guess they are all going to Islam hell. They'd be welcome in Catholic heaven though... he he.

Next, Bohri surnames or last names end in 'wala' - So Chinwala, Screwdriverwala, Slatewala are common  surnames... I dunno how Presswala ended up being a Gujarati surname though :)

The Bohri traditional dress is called a Ridha which is different from a Hijab worn by the Sunni Muslims. While the Hijab is usually black with beautiful sequins and work on it, the Ridha has to be colourful. Black is a strict no no.

Their Maulana - Syedna Mohammed Burhanuddin, is the head of the Bohris throughout the world and is equivalent to the Catholic Pope. He resides at Walkeshwar and is currently celebrating his 100th Birthday. Happy Birthday sir!

Well that's about all I know for now about the Bohris.

So the next day after I got done from work, I went to her place and she casually says she has to go to Bohri Mohalla- I was like Bohri Who??? She says, "Arre Bhendi Bazaar ya," I had no idea so I said okay. "What we gonna do there?" I asked.

Bhendi Bazaar all aglow in
celebration of the Maulanas 100th Birthday
"I have to shop!"

Sigh. When does M never have to shop. "What are we shopping for?"

"Material and a new dress for my mom and sister for the Maulana's birthday," she sweetly replies.

I sit up. Interesting.  I've never gone shopping for Bohri dress material before. "Cool, let's go."

"Yeah, umm before we leave, you have to wear the Ridha," she mutters.

"The who?"

Lol. All right. So her mom and she were all giggly and happy as they took out a dress and stood looking at me. I took it from M's hand and proceeded to put it on without knowing how too. She then helped me into the dress. And well let's just say that if the Maulana was around he would never have said I was Catholic...Lol. I looked Bohri through and through!
Can you spot where 'M' is???

After all the laughter and jokes at my new Bohri attire and look (I wore my jeans and tee inside by the way) we left.

Next stop Bhendi Bazaar. Now, the funny thing through this whole experience is I never really pay attention to people looking at me when I am in my daily wear.

However, with my new do, I was aware of every pair of  eyes which glanced at me and bells kept ringing in my head - WHY ARE THEY STARING AND WHAT OF MINE IS SHOWING!!!

Inside Roza Tahera mosque

We entered Bohri Mohalla and the stares only got more intense. I have read a couple of fiction novels which talk about the way Muslim men give you this deadly intense gaze. I felt it and I did the automatic thing the female in the book would do. Blush and bow down. GAWD. Kill me. I even yelled at one fool - What you looking at - look in front! Like he paid any attention to my gibberish and continued to stare. Idiot.

M's family and me entered a dress material shop and we had to remove our shoes outside. Nice. Had to sit on the floor. Not so nice. Couldn't sit in the skirt. Sat in a funny position and kept fidgeting cause I was not allowed to talk since I couldn't speak Gujarathi (Local language).I remember telling M in the lift, "If anyone talks to me in Gujarathi, I'll just keep saying 'Futre Vu' (Supposedly F*** You in French) At which her mom pipes up and says, "Very good very good, Chelsea knows Kem Chu Kem Chu." We both just cracked up.

We got out of the shop and her parents wanted to get some other stuff sorted so M decided to show me her mosque. For me this was a special treat since I always have wanted to see what the inside of a mosque looks like. WOW, is all I can say. Made all of marble, the Roza Tahera mosque in the gullies of Bhendi Bazaar is beautiful. It is currently being redone in honour of his Holiness' big celebration. I didn't go right in but M did as she wanted to pray. I took a couple of pictures inside and when M came out I asked her to take a picture of me inside the mosque. We got shooed away after that. He he.

Then M wanted to taste some of the 'local' goodies, I passed, however. (That Canadian trait should  have disappeared by now)... Needless to say M's local goodies came out in the morning... twice :P

We decided to head back home. M was designated driver, I her co-guide to scream PUT YOUR SEAT BELT every time we saw a cop... By the way - was it just us or did you notice the amount of Naka Bandhi's over the weekend. I need to find out the 'purpose' of these road blockades.

If you have ever driven a car at Bhendi Bazaar you'd know how crazy the road is. No proper signal, no cop in sight, a one way lane (according to me at least) was actually a two way moving traffic road. Since the car was across the road we had to zig zag through the traffic. I got ready to sprint holding M's hand.

Bad idea.

First off, I forgot I was in a skirt, sorry, make that a full length skirt which is tight at the bottom. I ran, I tripped and almost got one Bohri and one fake Bohri killed. M yelled - 'WTF' - I apologised grumbling I didn't realise the skirt was tight out  there.

Lesson from the entire episode: When you run, LIFT YOUR SKIRT :D

The following pictures are for pure cultural viewing, not to be laughed at, especially those which involve me in the Ridha.


First Look, not bad eh?
Bohri Chokri :D
Yep, that's my one sneaky
shot inside the mosque :)

No outfit is ever complete
without my 'traditional pose'

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Goodbye Grandma

Fifteen years ago you saw me in the hospital. Fifteen years later I saw you. I felt more at peace sitting by your side these last three weeks and getting the urge to pick myself up and move away from this loneliness. I have lost 15 years in knowing someone like you and today my pain is severe because I have had to deal with two main losses in three weeks. Yet, I know I have to shake myself of this self pity and be strong again.

I know we never got that chance to have a better and loving relationship. But I know you are in that wonderful place reserved by the good Lord and I know your happy. There is so much I wish for, so many things I would have loved saying to you in person. However, I have tried to say all I can these last few weeks.

Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord and let your perpetual light shine upon her.

May her soul, the soul of a faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.

Goodbye Grandma. Love you always.

Amen.





Nazareth Aileen - Peacefully passed away in Mississauga on March 6, 2008. Beloved wife of William for 57 years. Loving mother of Breda (Amrit), Norma, Lorna (Ashok), Desire (Lillian) and Selma (Bertram). Cherished grandma of Akshay (Vidya), Varun (Arunima), Chelsea, Chelson, Meaghan, Evan, Rochelle and Breanna. Also acknowledgement goes out to past and present staff at Mississauga Life Care Centre for the compassion and care given to Aileen during her long stay.

P.S: This post was written on March 13, 2008.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

We are F-A-M-I-L-Y!

I found my genealogy!!!

:D :D :D

Random search actually. I wanted to figure out what Chelson's middle name meant. 'Glory' - pssht! Ha ha... well he has brought in Glory to the family name, I'll grant him that. Something I haven't been able to do. Hey, no complaints!

Anyway, after I did that, I got to thinking, hmmm... I have always done a quick 'Google' on my name just to check out what kind of websites the search engines pull up... and it is usually about stuff I have written and blogged about. So, for a change, I decided to jot down baby brother's initials...

Chelson 'thankfully' for all his BS doesn't have much fame - Yet, on Google. The fourth or fifth article which came up had a list of family which had everyone included and really surprised the heck outta me. I mean, not many people know about my 'other' family (Yeah, we still in the closet about that for shitty reasons). So it came as quite a ruddy shock to be honest.


But good fun. I almost wet myself with glee.... Almost!


Check this out...



NAZARETH family from Pezar

1. Antonio NAZARETH was born about 1770. 
Antonio married Anna
Children from this marriage were: 
+ 3 M    ii. Pedro NAZARETH was born in 1795. 
Pedro married Angela
Children from this marriage were:
+ 7 M    i. Lawrence NAZARETH was born on Sep 6, 1836. 
Lawrence married Joanna SOUZA in about 1860. Joanna died in 1865. 
Children from this marriage were:
+ 20 M    ii. Joseph Peter NAZARETH was born on Feb 13, 1865 and died on Jun 7, 1937 at age 72.
Joseph married Teresa LOBO, daughter of Francis LOBO and Philippa REGOChildren from this marriage were:
+ 40 M    i. Salvadore Rosario NAZARETH was born on Nov 29, 1892 and died in 1980 at age 88. 
Salvadore married Cecilia Pietas PAIS. 
Children from this marriage were:
73  iii. William NAZARETH
William married Eileen. 
Children from this marriage were: 
+ 138 F    iii. Lorna NAZARETH
Lorna married Ashok SALDANHAChildren from this marriage were:
244 F    i. Chelsea SALDANHA 
245 M   ii. Chelson SALDANHA   

I AM THE 244TH DESCENDANT OF ANTONIO NAZARETH... from me mums side of course :)

Daddy dearest, you are not 'Google' enough!!! 

O ye, of little faith - CLICK HERE

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

The dust finally settles

All I wanted to do was hold your hand and drown into your black pools like I had everything that I could ever need, right there. The first time I saw you, we looked but looked away... cause you held her hand. No big deal... Then.

Then you started it all and I knew I could never turn back time. This time I tried to be like the rest. Put aside all my feelings and gave in to the test. Abject failure I was... Couldn't do the most simplest of things, couldn't even do it once - Live for the moment.

Just couldn't. Had to have my heart bleed otherwise what good is what I feel?

I sat there and watched you make a fool of yourself... then again, I went outside realising you were just making a fool of me.

I watched in awe as you came in front of me, stood speechless as you pushed that loose strand away from my eyes and kissed me.

I never could go back, come on, not after that.

Yet, you know how your gut tells you that when morn comes, it was all just a dream girlie... WAKE UP SMELL THE BS!!!

But I said, no way. I mean this was my one last shot I asked for right? RIGHT?? RIGHT???

I thought... who cares what I thought.

Thinking is pointless. My feelings are as pointless as blunt knives.

The pain now gets easy cause I have lived through so many of them, it's more like a standard joke among my friends... "Here comes F., the jackass who doesn't know her elbow from her A-hole about life... about anything"


Douchebag.