What a year...

I started off this year with a rock on my finger and a two month wait before I tied the knot. I did January in style by partying as the "hen" at the Jewel Bar dancing my final days of freedom away. The party continued into February where we celebrated my brother's engagement to his (then) fiance with a night in town.

Then came the wedding. Toni and I got married on 25 February. I felt like a queen. It was an amazing wedding, the best, and I was glad to say it was my very own. We held 3 parties in the space of 24 hours. We had a marching band. We had the romantic entrance to our party with hanging bouquets, scattered petals and drapes. We had the gurdwara, white with beautiful domes. I had the greatest man by my side. It was perfect.

We went to Rajasthan for our honeymoon. Certainly a trip we'll never forget. I got food-poisoning and was bed-ridden for 3 days and 3 nights. It could have been worse if we weren't staying in a lush palace hotel with views of the Lake Palace in Udhaipur. I had my great man looking after me. But then it did get worse, for we had a car accident. Hit head on by a truck, whose driver just happened to be drunk. Luckily for us the scene of the crime was just opposite a police station and with the help of the locals, and the very polite policemen, we managed to file the paperwork and get ourselves a 15 hour taxi ride home.

I tore myself away from Toni to fly back home in March. A month of waiting and I was back in India for Easter. A flying visit which saw Toni and I attend the courts to officialise our marriage and collect our marriage certificate. 4 days in the glorious heat was just what I needed having felt down and blue on the cold grey island. 4 days later I was back at work and preparing for Toni's arrival. In the meanwhile the media reported that Madeleine McCann had gone missing. To this day there is no sign of her.

For Toni and I, there was the visa to process, the medical examination to pass and the lots of worrying to be had. I had to find a place to make liveable and pray that Toni would get his visa soon. Finally, on 1 June, my husband arrived at Heathrow airport, looking very smart (he had made an effort for his wife) and looking extremely handsome. We spent a week settling in and watching lots of dvds. We warmed the flat with a party. We also welcomed Gordon Brown as Prime Minister, with fresh hope of a better Labour government and independence from the Bush regime. Instead, we got breath taking government incompetency and hope that the embarassing a series of blunders don't continue.

Glasgow was witness to the failed car bombing at the city's airport. An amatuer attempt to cause terror resulting in the wrongful arrest of an Indian born doctor working in Australia. He cleared his name and has recently been entitled to return to Australia.

July and August were busy wedding months and we attended 4 in total (as well as the pre-wedding parties and ceremonies), having to miss one wedding in France due to a clash. The summer was also the wettest for a long time and the floods in the north and lack of sunshine dampened everyone's mood.

David Beckham jetted off to the land of dreams to convert Americans into loving the beautiful game. Toni and I started house-hunting. By the end of the month our offer on our home had been accepted and we were commencing the horrific ordeal they call house-buying. We also saw the global credit crunch hit the UK and watched queues of Northern Rock customers collect their savings from its branches for fear of a crisis. The Burmese monks peacefully protested against their military government against the rise in fuel prices which led to a rise in the cost of consumer goods. This sparked off a human rights outcry throughout the world.

Toni got his first job as a Manager at a Pizza Hut branch and underwent his management training in July and in October I qualified as a corporate solicitor. Also said goodbye to EJ, my dear friend who left the firm for much greener pastures. On 7 October my brother married his sweetheart and we had half a week of culture and tradition - it was fab.

The iPhone was released into the UK in November which saw hightech-savvy consumers flocking to the shops for their latest gadget.

Toni and I began packing in November and then agonisingly waited, with baited breath, to exchange and complete on our first home. The chain held us up and we were close to being homeless (save for mum and dad's, as the very last resort) but finally picked up our keys on 7 December. We also bought a bed and sofa and, with the help of everyone in the family, moved into our new home. Since then and right up until Christmas day, Toni and I became avid fans of painting. We're not quite sure whether it was the fumes, but we certainly hit a high when we finished our work of art. The ground floor rooms were fully coloured and made beautiful in time for Christmas.

Gillian Gibbons was jailed in Sudan for allowing pupils to name a teddy "Mohammed", seen as an insult to Islam.

The Spice Girls made a comeback at the O2 and played in London after nearly a decade. The glittering girls all performed well with the exception of Posh, who failed to rehearse.

Today we find the situation in Pakistan has spiralled out of control. Benazir Bhutto has been assassinated by a suicide bomber, having been shot in the neck before the bomb blast. Although it was only a matter of time, it will spark off mayhem in an already politically unstable region.

This year has certainly been a big year. One of excitement, one of change. One which ends on a note of uncertainty. Climate change and economic tension does not bode well for the coming year. However, I suspect on all levels that it will be a quieter year; a year of reflection.

When I am counting down on new year's eve, I will certainly thank God for giving me the best year of my life, and hope that 2008 will be even better, albeit less dramatic. Happy new year wherever you are. Keep smiling xx

Amrit and Toni

A new beginning

And she enters. The fully fledged lawyer makes her way to the office for her first day of qualified work. She looks back and waves her trainee days tata and feels confident, a little nervous too. The lift doors open at the third floor which welcomes her, just like old times. Sitting near her previous super in open plan surroundings, the banter begins. Good morning Mrs Bhullar, welcome to the BIG world. We hope you enjoy your stay.

My first week has been cool. Workload has been building up gradually and with ease. I'm not yet working the horrific corporate hours, but am getting to grips with MIFID and AIM. Corporate investment is a new area for me too and I'm hoping it'll be interesting. I'm already diarised to attend networking drinks and dinners and have been re-photographed to ensure the firm has an up-to-date colour picture for some glossy brochure. In the meantime DD and verification are high on my worklist. Have been catching up with friends and gossip. And now it's Friday and the fatigue can finally rest - I have been feeling shattered since Wednesday - the result of being away and having lots of rest.

Brother's wedding was a success. Exhausting but great fun. Brother and wife are honeymooning in New Zealand and soon to be moving on to Tahiti for some sunshine. Tina, Palinder and their two children came over for the wedding which made the wedding so much more fun. 6 of us in our small-ish flat meant we were queuing for the bathroom alot. The whole family, including and especially our Chachis, Masis and cousins, made the wedding spectacular. We are awaiting the professional photographs and dvds.

House wise, it is coming along nicely, although an uncertain time for us both. English law allows a party to pull out anytime before exchange of contracts. Of course, we have a lot more to lose if the sellers change their mind and so are consuming the back of our minds with worry. Hopefully we should complete by the end of November. We will be moving to somewhere in any event as we have already served notice on our current landlords.

Life is still moving, but then it hasn't stopped this year. Hopefully we can get to the end of November by completing another milestone - becoming proud owners of our home. Ok, it's Friday afternoon and I'm off home to hubby.

And when she thinks of how far she has come, she realises she has achieved her ambition. 7 years on from university, she has learned a lot, and it's not all law. Her support has been her family. Her dedication has been key. Hard work pays off. Her focus has been success. Though, fun has never been far behind. She thanks everyone especially Toni, because she knows that he has followed her through. She feels lucky. She knows he will keep her strong. She takes her husband's hand and they walk on into the future.

Last summer holiday

It's the last bank holiday of the season and I feel on a role with this writing malarky so here is another extract from the sought-after brain of mine for all you lovely beings who are sitting in the sun freezing your bits off - it isn't a warm one I can tell you.

Toni and I celebrated our 6month anniversary with the usual discussions, a toast and an iPod. Yes my darling bought me a Nano - a cute little gadget which makes me believe I'm the envy of the world which commutes with me to work everyday, although I'm trying to ignore the fact that I might be playing catch up.

We went out for a much overdue steak at the Spur which has opened up here recently. Juicy as it was we felt the portions to be small. Still the chocolate brownie filled the gap. Next time we'll head to the Harvester.

We have managed to book several house-viewings for this week so our search is well and truly underway. I spent a shed load of time cleaning the flat which was highly therapeutic, but totally draining too. Managed to fit in time for a pre-wedding party and a (entirely separate) wedding aswell.

Toni managed to make us both a juicy club sandwich full of burger, bacon, egg, cheese and salad and was absolutely delicious. We ate it for dinner by candelight.

Today's agenda is for me to bake a cake whilst Toni grinds the stone at work. And then begin our showdown with the first house-viewing this evening. Then back to work for me, Nano in tow. I'm so excited to be commuting (for once)!

Hopscotch

After finding freedom with my words, I felt a follow up was a must and with this week, I have gone from being utterly pissed off by ridiculous refereeing to incredible fatigue from the changing weather patterns to suped up sleep-a-holic and from waited-on diva by chef husband to kitchen madam with wooden spoon at the helm.

The week began with a sour face courtesy of Rob Styles, the ref of Sunday's super game Liverpool v Chelsea. For once, we could not blame the Blues for the attrocious luck they are presented with week in week out. No, my anger turned towards the ludicrous match official who not only snatched 2 crucial points from us, but was trigger-happy with the yellows all the way through the match and even had a Graham Poll moment, only it was 2 and no red to Essian. That's life and I sulked until they announced that Mr Styles had been given a free from officiating this weekend due to a need for further training - ha!

The sulking may have zapped my energy but I suspect I can truly put it down to the weather change. We have been talking about the funny weather since time began. We are the Brits. But, this summer, the weather became a topic thoroughly worked. We had floods. We had rain. We had cold. We had a day of sunshine, maybe two, and then the floods and it started all over. It's been like having an April shower all through summer. You may then ask "how can she be affected by the weather seeing as it's well, still raining?" I answer you this: there is a subtle difference. During the summer, we had the floods but temperatures were reaching above the 20s. We still have rain but there is a cooler air and cooler temperatures, making it a heck of a lot colder and making my body go all cranky. My gauge has lost all sense of temperature and is trying to re-climatise. To speed up the process, I had a 10hr nap. This has certainly increased my energy levels, and hopefully I'll have adapted fully soon.

And I must say I have been a lady of leisure lately. My wonder of a husband cooks dinner every night and it is usually ready for when I enter the door. I have been told to have my head checked, because I have felt a craving of sorts to get into the kitchen and do the house-wife thing, if only to re-claim my woman-hood. So I told Toni that I would be cooking the following day. As most of you know, I don't know too many dishes (I have asked Toni to be my master when I next cook some chicken) so I made some simple and much needed dal and roti. Okay, so the rotis were a bit random but at least they were round and it sure was tasty. A success for wife-Bhullar and a boost to her kitchen confidence!

Other than that matters seem to be on par with shiney happy feelings. Wifi and hub are in perfect harmony, working hard and eating lots: a diet is imminent - exercise-program included. With Friends and Ben and Jerry, who could really go wrong?

Update on life in Amrit and Toni's world, by the Wife

Hello, yes it's me, lady of the flat speaking and I thought it was about time I put pen to paper, or in this case, tips to keyboard. Lots to tell so let's get underway...

The last few weeks has seen us attend 3 Indian weddings. I realised only the other day when speaking to friends that I have never attended an English wedding - luckily I will be fortunate to attend my dear friend Charlotte's wedding to her Dan next year and do away with this absurd and unwanted record I hold. I must have attended a thousand Sikh weddings in my lifetime, if not more. That's the (debatable) plus side to having such a large family, which comes as a pre-requisite to being an Indian, and most certainly a Sikh. So Indian weddings were experienced, both Sikh and Hindu-Gujurati. All ceremonies were grand and emotional. I shed a tear here and there on reflex, but I managed to keep my makeup in tact by tilting head back and waiting for eyes to dry. So lots of good food and drink and parties and dancing, for even Toni had a jig on the dance floor which made my day.

In between the mayhem of marriages and finding time for shuteye and work my arse off at work, I received some brilliant news: my firm offered me a (NQ) position on qualifying as a solicitor. You see, and fellow hardworkers will know, you can spend all your life, your money and your soul trying to making a career but if you don't get a job at the end of it it's all worth nothing. So from March of this year I began an intense job hunt. Like many other trainees, it was a daunting, stressful, sleepless time for me. Toni was a great support to ensure I didn't spiral into depression about the prospect of not having a job come October. My firm opened a position late in the running and after racing through the internal recruitment process, offered me a job. Not just any job. I've always wanted to make it into the corporate world. Be that big-shot lawyer who wins mega-deals. So when my firm released the jobs back in March there was no opportunity in Corporate. So I resigned myself to leaving the much loved firm I had spent the last 18 months training with and underwent interviews at other firms. After 4 years of not having an interview, it was good experience. But then
the opportunity came in June. And it has all worked out in the end. Like many had told me, I would end up where I was meant to. I think I have done just that.

Immediately after finding out - this occured on Monday 29 July - I called Toni and blabbered onto him about the good news. It was such a relief that I could not help myself from bawling like a baby. I called Dad and emailed Mum and Toni told the rest of the world. This led to an off-the-hook phone come the evening. Tina and Masis phoned a congratulations and texts were flooding in. Then, the next day I got ill. It all started with a tickly throat. I thought it might just be a sign of weakness and so decided to have extra rest. The I got very ill very quickly and the next day, had to leave work early to come home. I had zero energy. I had fever. I was having headaches. My tickly throat had become a terrible cough where I struggled to breathe. I sent for the doctor the next morning who played it down as a "throat infection" - it felt like the flu. And so I stayed home from work for days, sleeping 13/14 hours and keeping myself occupied with daytime tv and 24, Series 3. I missed the lovely sunshine we had that week. I missed some important functions of my friend's wedding. Today is the first day I feel my energy levels are back with me. The anti-biotics did their job by getting me back to work but it has taken an addtional 2 weeks for me to fully recover, of which I am glad to say I have. Good old greens are the cure.

Coming back to work after being ill is certainly not pleasant. Especially when you're only 40% better and you work in a real estate department. Not good at all. I have been running around like a headless chicken, somehow managing to keep it all together and finally getting on top of it all. Success and a hoorah from the opportunity came in June. And it has all worked out in the end. Like many had told me, I would end up where I was meant to. I think I have done just that. Success and a hoorah from me.

So what is left? Well Toni and I have begun house-hunting which has co-incided with the start of the new season. The Reds have won their first two games, at home and in Europe - I'm hoping Gerrard is fit for the clash this weekend - we'll need our full strength to beat the Blues.

It's still sunny but starting to turn cooler. Kamal's wedding is just round the corner. Not just any wedding but a family wedding, which, seeing as he is my brother, will be great fun. We're looking forward.

At the Bhullars, life never stops moving - we'll keep you posted at it happens. For now, in the words of my dear friend Skye, "peace, love and hairgrease" to you all xx

Oh NO ! Not another lunch

The Man

Lots of shit to tell you in short amount of time, this is not going to be funny. I am writing this without taking my hay fever tablets and you might find me (slightly) moody and a little off the mark.

Married life in England started with Amrit and I moving into our own little flat. Well its not little at all, it's actually a 2-bedroom flat with a big living and dinning room. The flat was semi-furnished. So a trip to Ikea was in the pipeline and a budget was made, but I guess once you get into these big stores, one wants to buy everything. If they were selling an elephant there I think I would have bought it. But lets stick to the furniture part for now.

Both of us started picking up stuff as we went around the store and buy the time we had reached the counter to pay for it our trolley was full: TV stand, 2 book shelves, a cd rack, a lamp, dinner set (midnight black )and other small odds and sods. Now the dilemma was not that we had already blown our budget (buy a long way), but how to get all the stuff in the small car we had brought with us.

It would be an insult to all Indians if I did not find a way to get all the stuff into our small 2-door hatchback. So a push here and a shove there, with the seats down, all rear view mirrors blocked with stuff and stuff on my lap and stuff on Amrit's lap (whilst she steered us home) we made it. Now the challenge was to get everything up to the second floor; let me just say that it was tough going!

The June month has been a busy one, with lots of dinners and lunches. I think that almost all the weekends in July are booked. Amrits aunts have been inviting us to dinners that I am so stuffed with food I can go into hibernation for next six months.

But but but on one Sunday we got free tickets to see Bonjovi live in concert at the O2. It was the first show at the O2, my first gig, and Amrit's first too. Three lucky strikes, its was simply great. And it was even better because we got the tickets for free courtesy of Amrit's super friend Charlotte.

There is so much more to write...I am getting lazy

From East to West (and to Eastenders, oh blimey, I dropped a clinker)

We are sorry we haven't written for a while - this is because we have been sitting in our flat in darkness, closed off from the world (wide web) waiting for an engineer to fix us some internet. Contact and communication has been scarce with just a mobile phone or two (and the landline) to assist us with. But with budgetary constraints we have had to monitor our outgoings and so the texts have been few and far between. We have closed ourselves off, shut out the universe and kept company with just each other (and our new HD ready TV and lots of borrowed dvds). Did we survive the beginning of marital humdum? The answer is a big fat yes. The reason of course is because our two souls were imprisoned to harmonious partnership with each other even before they hit the earth. They were both tried and sentenced and naturally, they were equipped with the right tools for the creation of bliss. And here we sit now in our nice 2 bed with a balcony (well sort of) and the sun shining through on our evenings. And so to tell our tales of beautiful bonding and union, we shall in our own verse, speak to you about life. With each other. In rainy England. This is how it began.

The airport

I rushed over to the airport straight from work, getting there the same time Toni landed and stood in arrivals like an eager-maniac-high-on-adrenalin for 45 minutes before the anticipation was over. My honey was dressed very smart for the occasion and looked considerably well for a guy who had just travelled 9 hours in an oxygen-starved jet. (I'll let Toni tell you about the service). We hugged and kissed and grinned like kids on a first date, all shy and excited and nervous too. I wanted to just grab him and more but it was a public place and I would have got us arrested - not the start I was planning. Then quite casually, Toni popped a ring out of his rucksack and plonked it on my finger. My engagement ring. Which incidentally I had re-set in platinum to match the band. I wanted to cry with happiness. But I grabbed his bag instead - the one with all the cash in it (no way intentionally, just lucky) and headed to Dad's car for collection.

Well my day started with a shower at Jp’s house and getting dressed for England, oh! And for my wife too ;). Then it was long drive through the morning delhi traffic, but with Jp on the wheel it wasn’t a problem. But the traffic was not the problem; I had the weight of my bag on my mind which had being bugging me since I left home. With a meagre 20 kilos I was supposed to start a new life in a new country, how would I fit all that curry powder in my bag. It seemed to me that I’d filled the bag over 20 kilos.

Anyway Jp and I managed to check the weight before we got into the airport. With it started the game of 20 million questions. It started from the time I showed the ticket to the guard at the entry gate at the airport ( for those who are not familiar with New Delhi Airport, no one is allowed to enter the airport but the passengers) so first the guard at the gate says, “is your flight today?” “when?” Then the guy who weighs the luggage says to me, “is this your first flight?” “What’s in your bag?” Then before the ticket counter, “why are you going?” “Where is your wife?” “When were you married?” Ticket counter girl says “what is the purpose of your visit?” Then its the immigration people, customs people, security people, and boarding people. It’s not that they ask you a couple of questions, they repeat questions and add their own. So if the first person asked 5 question, the next will ask those 5 first and then add another 5 to it. I think at the end of this barrage of questions you ask yourself: is that really my name? Am I really the person on the passport? One might question: is that my photo in the passport?

At last I boarded the plane and took off with any delay and we were told we would arrive in London before time. With the opening of the disinfectant sprays (non toxic chemicals for all my white friends. We from the 3rd world (or as PC people would have it “emerging economies” are use to have all planes exiting their lands for the “cleaner” West detoxed) we were made ready to enter the super power lands.

My fellow passenger seated next to me wanted to make sure all the germs had died so he ordered a beer which was promptly provided to him from a lady in red (now it’s time for “guess the airline” game). I think this airline was loaded (you know with what) because when I asked for a glass of water this lady in red came and told me to get water from the back of the plane myself, she was like “how dare you ask for water when you could get beer and wine”. By this time my buddy to the right was on his 3rd beer so I had to ask him to get up to let me through so I could walk down to the water fountain and drink some water and then plead with him again to let me pass and take my seat. I guess the crew were not interested in serving non-alcoholic drinks because almost the same thing happened when I asked for a cola. It took three different people 50 minutes to get me 100ml of a small cola, whereas the distinguished AA member sitting next to me got his sixer in less then 60 seconds, even Nicolas Cage couldn’t beat that. Guess the answer I was the looking for was alcohol and so a glass of RED was ordered and taken in one gulp. The iceing on the cake did not come until we were about to land and the crew was asking for a glowing report in their crew evaluation forms, and my friends, this is the climax of the flight, my flight into London: the guy sitting next to me who had had 6 or 7 beers by now gets to fill in 3 crew evaluation forms. You can all guess now who didn’t get any forms to fill. Yes you guessed it right: ME. So we proceed to the next round: landing at London was smooth and well before time like the pilot said, but the rest, everything else, was the same as if I never left India. We circled over Delhi for 9 hours and landed back in India. I say this because everything was just like an Indian-style queue at Heathrow. Loads of Indians working wherever you go at the airport but it was England. Immigration done. Medical done. Luggage pick up done, Now time to get out of the airport to see my baby. With my baby waiting with a smile on her face and ready for a hug, (and that’s what she got) I gave her the big ring she had been waiting for.

Family

I had already prepared Toni for the Saturday following his arrival. Once my masis had got wind of Toni's arrival the phone was constantly engaged. All and sundry were desperate to meet him (I wouldn't be surprised if he'd attracted more attention than Shilpa when she arrived in town, he's certainly better looking) and to appease the wave of interest, dear Mum organised an afternoon for about 40 relatives to meet him. Yes, 40 (actually 50 if you include those aborad) is the number of people who fit into "most immediate family" category, being made up of mum's brother (Mamaji) and sisters (Masis) and their husbands (Masarjis), dad's brothers (Chachajis) and their wives (Chachis) and all their children and husbands and grandchildren. They came in groups so that the house wasn't brimming with over-eager Indians although it was a full house at most times. I was a little worried that Toni might feel awkward or shy or nervous about the day. There was no need. My hubby was in his element. Sitting with the men-folk he had the floor on world politics, economy, religion and whatever else they talked about. My star. I felt so happy for him and proud to be with such a wonderful man.

Back to work

After 9 days of married life, eating lots of yummy junk (chocolate/ice cream//pizza to name just a few), watching lots of 24, slouching on the sofa, and other marital activities of a nondescript nature it was time for me to head back into work. Half looking forward to using my brain a little and half worried about the workload awaiting me, I slugged into the office and yawned all week. It was difficult. Getting back into a work routine after seriously contending for couch potato of the year was not an easy task. But the pain was eased by Toni who appointed himself house chef and concierge of our abode. It was a fully comprehensive service that he provided, with dinner ready every evening and a sparklingly clean house day in day out. And with the cutest smile too.

A bit of a cafuffle (and football)

It's my turn to say a few words - not many are planned but let's see where we end up. Planning is a good base for direction but it doesn't mean you end up where you thought you would. In fact most times in life you wind up where you least thought you'd be. Let's take an example. A true life, say mine, whereby this time a year ago, Toni and I had begun talking and begun what was to be a serious relationship. I never envisaged that a year on we would be married, and waiting for my love to cross the seas to the tiny island we call home. Yes England awaits him as do I, eagerly. Last year I was thinking that I would never marry. Never find someone who could understand me to the level I need. An over-complicated being that I am, the option-paralytic stress-addicted self that I was never believed that I would end up meeting my prince, and this time last year I was oblivious to what life beheld me. But the days moved on and I came to realise that Toni understood me more than even I have. He surprises me to this day as to how he manages to read my thoughts before I have acknowledged them mine.

And here we are today, Monday 7 May 2007. Married to my prince in my very own fairytale wedding with an Indian filmi style romance which is all so real, and without my 5 hours of wedding movie dvd and 350 wedding pictures, it wouldn't be reasonable to think it was all just a dream.

It shouldn't be long now before my Toni turns up on my door-step or knocking at my office door. This is his planned surprise for me. To come to England unannounced so he can sweep me off my feet. Most would (and do) think it is beautifully romantic. Me, being me, overlooks that point and instead works out the logistics and what ifs of the plan and comes to the conclusion that it would be much safer if I collected my husband from the airport. But Toni and I share a similar personality disorder: stubbornness. And after many a discussion I have come to accept it. Not a happy bunny am I. But I will be once I see him. So it will be worth it (I suppose).

What other joys does life bring me this minute? Well, one very important victory was achieved last week. My Reds overcame the Blue chavs of Chelski - yes we won (again) against the team who were on for a 4-cup win this season. We just happened to bring the Blue club back to reality with a thump. Agger's superb goal saw us draw and after Kuyt scored in extra time we thought it really was over. But for the linesman rendering the goal off-side because his body was in front of the last defender (but, arguably his feet were in line) it had to go down to the wire. And our record tells us that we had played for penalties 10 times in our footballing history: 9 we had won. Tuesday we made it 10 out of 11. Jose Mourinho couldn't help himself and claimed that his team were the better team on the night. Yes Jose, that's why they lost and Liverpool won. Chelsea are now left out of Europe (again) and lost the title to United this weekend. So Jose, lost 2 cups in a week - not doing too good are you?

Liverpool are through to the Champions League final against A C Milan (once again) who thrashed a hopeless United team out on Wednesday night. With key errors in defence and a fabulous Kaka, United were left watching as Milan celebrated their victory. Now we await the re-run of May 2005, when we were left 3-0 down at half time in Istanbul and out (almost) but came back fighting and defeated the Italians claiming the cup for ourselves. Gatusso claims it will be revenge for the 2005 game. We just hope to control the psycho, and his team mates, especially the magnificent Kaka, who slaughtered United, and is in a league of his own. In two weeks time we will win.

Wedding season is beginning to pick up here in the West. I attended my cousin's chuni and karmaiee ceremonies last week and have a friend's civil marriage and chuni ceremonies to attend at the end of this month. And then 4 weddings to attend beginning in July, and then my brother's wedding later in the year. It was ever so convenient that I received so many outfits at the wedding. They will get plenty of use.

I have begun back at the gym, but once a week does not do my subscription justice. I am seriously trying to motivate myself to attending more often but time is a critical factor. Work is keeping me very busy for which I am grateful for as I think I would have lost my mind waiting for Toni with little to do. I am also searching for a place for us to rent, whilst at the same time job hunting as qualification dawns on me. No more pretending to be a lawyer - time for the real thing.

And so that is the gist of the latest happenings in the small slightly significant land of England, where Amrit awaits her Toni who will arrive unannounced in romantic jest. She will be overwhelmed with joy as he. Counting down the days....

WHITE MISCHIEF

Well this entry has to start with good news I got today from Norway. This being that the great Norwegian couple Eva Aune Tiller and Stian Espen Iversen finally won the bidding war for their first flat together . I, being Indian, have already booked a room with them for myself and Amrit. A true Indian.

Now for the regular entry which are getting quite irregular. This week I have been to my friends wedding. Yes, another wedding. Well how the hell do you think we sustain a population over the 1.1 billion mark? Answer: we get married and we have kids and voila. I have revealed the secret formula. Of course the secret code is the three little letters "e", "s ", and "x" in the right combination of course...

Sorry that topic always distracts me from my real story. The story now...

The wedding was of my friend Kulbhushan (Kullu), in the hill state of Uttarakhand, in the beautiful city of Dehradun (I wrote beautiful just to please my friend, otherwise everyone knows the only beautiful city in India is my hometown Chandigarh).
















Well what are weddings without alcohol? A t the start of the wedding I didn't know many people but everybody knows what a social lubricant Mr Smirnoff is. So in his great company suddenly all the people I did not know a moment ago became my long lost family members. As usual I did try a few of my regular (I mean the only two) dance moves. As the night's festivities died down and with no fist fights, my friends and I were not satisfied for the night so it had to be a short road trip in the middle of the night through wild forests to the holy Hindu city of Rishikesh.

It was a lovely drive with dense forests on both sides and wild animals - I got a glimpse of spotted deer but with a moonless night and no traffic on the road, reflection from a humble deer's eyes can be a scary sight. The rest of the night was uneventful - what does one expect in a week night when 98% of the city's people are sleeping? As we knew everything in the city would be closed apart from the tea stalls, after a cup of tea it was back in the car and back on the road.


The next day it was decided that we do the same road trip again and then attend the wedding. Road trips took priority even though the wedding was why we had collected in Dehradun in the first place. I'm still trying to figure out what's with boys and road trips. But it was worth it - it was a beautiful trip - beautiful mountains with a river running along side the road, the white water, camp sites on the river banks for the rafters, it was just so beautiful. Guess I will be back there someday and doing the whole trip on the river. But today I had a wedding to attend so it was back to base. This time the driver was my friend JP. I mention his name because I have been doing road trips with him for over 10 years and have never have let him drive. So it was time I gave him the wheel and let him drive. A great driver.

The wedding started with the groom climbing on top of a white horse (yes like a prince and yes, how glad it wasn't me). This prince was in control of everything from his elevated position. According to Hindu custom the wedding takes place at night and so it was appropriate for the priest to take time out gazing at the stars and predicting the bride and groom 's future life. By now it had reached 03:30 in the morning, and we had reached the venue 7pm the previous evening so we waited (and partied) with the groom for the rest of the night and the most of the early morning.
And then at 3:30 they started the wedding vows.

But by this time the writer

of this entry had once again become slave to the red Russians and needed a bed to crash in. So bed it was and goodbye to the wedding party.

Reunited

This entry covers my return to Motherland to be reunited with my husband for our legal marriage. Yes, for the last 6 weeks we had been living in sin, with permission from our families though.

So into Delhi I flew on (Good) Friday morning, having spent the journey conversing with my newly acquired Uncle Narinder. A lovely chappy who ensured we talked about everything under the sun (in this case, above the clouds and quite close to the moon), including my horror experience of losing my passport on the way to the airport that Thursday evening, and then finding it in the nick of time. Yes, I left work in good time just in case there were tube delays and with the help of my friend Hen, I managed to lug the suitcase onto the train. A couple of stops later I had a panic and thought to check that I was carrying my passport. The panic soared when I discovered I didn't. I rang home ensuring mum and dad turned the house upside down in search for it. They found nothing. I had 4 and a half hours to get to the airport. I decided to go home. Emotions all over the place I got home and checked the house myself. No luck. One final place to look was at work. Dad drove me and my luggage to the office. Got there. Found it hidden in a magazine I had removed from my rucksack just before leaving work at 5.30pm. Incidentally, I had nearly thrown the magazine away but decided not to because Toni had bought me it back in March. My husband saved me (as he always does) and luckily that day I was feeling sentimental. With a little under two hours to go before take off, and a time of 45 minutes to get to the check-in desk (before they refuse boarding late passengers) dad drove me swiftly to Heathrow and I managed to get in queue with 15 minutes to spare. Phew, I made it (only just but nevertheless).

Where was I? Yes, landing at Delhi, I embraced the heat and found my husband smiling at me as I walked with suitcase in tow. It was great to see Toni in the flesh again; it had felt like a lifetime since we had seen each other (in 3D). Kullu and JP came to meet me and they made me feel welcome. Toni and I had 4 days of time and lots to do, so we got on without delay.

First stop and a much needed lunch was at Babu and Geeta's place in Delhi. Geeta cooked a big lunch with lots of delicious dishes and chocolate ice cream to finish it off. We sat about discussing life and blogs and even gleaned words of wisdom from the happily married couple. We left for Chandigarh and reached home in 5 hours - not bad timing. With little time to spare, it was straight to the tailors (it's a must, I'm a girl) for sari blouses and stuff. We had Dominos delivered for dinner and I happily scoffed my pepperoni pizza.

Saturday saw us rising late and shopping til we dropped - literally. The sun shone down on us and after a few hours of strolling around Sector 17, we were shattered. We decided that we'd go see a movie on Sunday morning so we hit the cinema for Namaste London which proved to be a very good film. Then we dined next to the (quite) famous Harbhajan Mann - for those not acquainted with this name, he's an actor and a singer in Bollywood and just so happens to be related to Toni. I knew my masis would be extremely delighted that I met him so I got hubby to take some pix so I could show masis when I flew back to the UK.

Then our big day finally arrived: our (legal) wedding. Not quite the glamourous affair as was the 25th February, but as important nevertheless. We stood outside the court at 0830hrs waiting for our witnesses to arrive. Then it was upto the DC's office for some signatures and small talk. Next stop was the admin office where a few more signatures, some tea and a little cash meant that we were finally legal and registered. Congratulations were in order and a bottle of champers to celebrate. With lots of last minute tasks on the agenda, and some much needed rest, we hit the road for Delhi, it taking 7 hours for us to reach. Spending our last evening we shared our tears.

We cried our ways home having said goodbye at the airport. I jetted home to begin the wait for my Toni ji to make his way through immigration and land at Heathrow.

The heart may grow fonder when distance is near, but it certainly hurts in the meanwhile. I can't wait for us to start our life together - it'll be true bliss.

Another weekend another wedding

Well folks, here we go again.
It was the wedding of my cousin in my village of Bodi Wala Kharak Singh, which is about 260km from my home town of Chandigarh. But the drive there took more that 7 grueling hours, the reason being my great adventures on the highways of Jaipur (see last blog entry) had not convinced my dad of my driving skills. So strict instructions were given by the military man that his cars will not be driven over the speed limit of 60km/h. So me being me and with a wounded ego, gave myself a buffer of 5km/h, so 55km/h it was the whole way. Tough, I must say it was.

My village is in an area of Punjab where it seems like time is standing still, like everything takes its own time. If I am correct Einstein would have had a big problem explaining this phenomenon. Everything happens in slow motion. I am not blaming the people for it because they have become so used to it that I think they might be living in different dimensions. They have taken a chill pill for life. They seem to be happy in freeze mode and I am happy for them.

To give you a good example about the time consideration, on the wedding day that groom and all his family were about 3 hours late. So to reciprocate their great gesture we, the brides family were 3 and half hours late for the party the next day. If you are the type of person who lives by their watch I guess you should go live in the Swiss mountains where time is taken very seriously. The vast fields and pastures of the interior Punjab are for those who like to see Einstein's theories turned on their heads. This is the place for you. You don't need to be high on anything to see the world go by in slow motion.

Well as you all can see I'm not that interested in telling you about the wedding. I think you have had your fill of weddings from our previous posts. This wedding was a great opportunity to meet my cousins, who I have not met in years. To be honest I could not even remember their names, IT WAS THAT LONG. Apart from a few odd, embarrassing moments where I didn't have a clue whether it was my cousin or my uncle and where I was addressing people by wrong names, I had a great time.

One thing I noticed was that all of us (my cousins and I) had nicknames which did not remotely match our real names or our personality. As all of you know my name is Tejinder, and nickname is Toni. I don't know how my family came to that name, but now I know I am not the only case of this nickname syndrome. Apparently the whole family suffers from it (not just my dad's side but my mum's side too). So their real names might be Gurmeen, Amrinder, Brigashwar which are put into a name-converting-machine, after which, weighing all the facts and figures, takes out names which have the furthest correlation imaginable to their real names. Oh! So the answers would be Sonia, Jolly, Bunny. After being 3 nights away from my computer I had to come back home. As you all know the net has become the lifeline between Amrit and I. The last three days have been tough not seeing her online, talking our days through and seeing each other smile. So a very early morning bus back home and here I am online with my wife.

Gurmeen kaur Brar or Sonia or both

Honeymoon

After all the guests had gone home, Amrit and I planned our honeymoon. The destination chosen was the beautiful desert kingdom of Rajasthan, with its beautiful cities Jaipur the pink city, Ajmer the holy city, Udaipur the city of lakes (made famous by James Bond's Octopussy).

So with my honey in the passenger seat of the car we went looking for the MOON. It was to be a road trip. If one is a positive thinker then the hail storm, thunder and lightning at the start of the trip would be taken as blessing, God is blessing the car with holy water for a safe trip for the newly weds. Half way to Delhi we started to look for hotels to stay in Delhi. We decided to take a chance by just driving into Delhi and find a hotel since the gods were already on our side. We did find the hotel in the end and went out to dinner in a Japanese restaurant recommended by the traveller's holy bible, the Lonely Planet . The restaurant was called Zen in Connaught Place, New Delhi. The thing we will remember about this restaurant is not its good food but its staff holding us hostage until we gave them a suitable tip; a great recommendation, Lonely Planet. Anyway on the way back to the hotel, the gods decided to cleanse our car with holy water once more, it was like an express wash, not lasting very long.
Next day our drive to Jaipur was not that eventful. My honey was sleeping and I, driving and navigating through the maze of killer highways, which will make the makers of the game "need for speed" think about changing the name of their game. But we reached the pink city safely and rested a bit before the shopping craze came over Amrit. Advice to men is never take women shopping on empty stomach. Fill their tummies and half the shopping crave is gone. So a lunch in a revolving restaurant overlooking the city of Jaipur did the trick for me: not much shopping after that.

By this time my love had started to feel little sick, guess it was all the different food stuff we had been eating which had caused the problem. So we called in an early night.
Next on the road trip was Udaipur but on the way to the Udaipur we had a short stop at the holy city of Ajmer. Its famous for the tomb of a Muslim saint.

In my opinion it should also be put on the map for its beggars. There beggars are not your usual ones. They have done their homework and, have plans and strategies. We realised they had areas divided amongst themselves so no one could beg in another's area. The beggars patiently waited for the target to wonder into their area before starting their begging. Amrit and I had encountered some of the most talented ones, but once you show weakness to one of them you are marked, tagged, labelled, flagged (what other word can I use) for slaughter.

We did our bit at the tomb and were back on the road to Udaipur, where our hotel room awaited us. By the time we were at the hotel Amrit's condition had worsened and she was in real pain. I wont go into the detail of it but she was in a bad way and needed a doctor. She was in bed for the next three days.

Over the three days we stayed at the hotel the staff of the Hilton-Trident were just great. From the managers to the head chef to the waiters to the door men - they were just great.

We managed to cut our little cake which our hotel had presented to us with a bottle of wine (just for me).

So after three days in the hotel room and my wife feeling better, we were on our way back to Jaipur. With sunny weather and cool winds we were cruising our way to Jaipur, when BANG! We were hit by a truck head - on the national highway. Shocked, we just sat in the car for sometime not knowing what to do, glass all over me holding the wheel, not knowing what to do, till my Amrit asked me if I was ok and I said "I am, are you ?" She was ok too. With a crowd gathering around the car we got out from Amrit 's side since mine was totally jammed by the truck impact. Lucky we didn't have a scratch on us: the car took it all.

Then started the police investigation. We were helped to the police station which was just 500 metres from the site and the report was written. If you really want to know they were all hand written and if they wanted to make a copy you had to wait for them to hand write that too. So you see everything had to be in triplicate, hand written in triplicate. But still I would say our case was dealt with the utmost urgency. It was high on the priority list, second to a group of people who had stolen 5 goats in an SUV, for which the police had set up a check point on the national highway causing a traffic jam. If you ask for service from the police they provide you with just that, even if it means causing a taffice jam and a queue of trucks for a mile on both sides of the road. Just for some kidnapped goats which might well be kebabs by then. Well anyway I thanked them for the help the gave us. The even called us a taxi, which is unheard of.

By this time we had decided that the honeymoon was over and we just wanted to go home. So another taxi was arranged for us by my friend Sumit and his wife from Jaipur to Chandigarh.

I would say the honeymoon was a memorable one, we certainly would never forget it.

Wedding day

Wedding day

I had an early rise (5am to be precise) so that I could rush over to the beauticians for my appointment at 6am. Taxi arrived on queue, and with my sister Aman helping all the way, we drove onto Sector 35-C before sunrise. Little did I know that as a foreigner who is also Indian by background, I was expected to arrive an hour late for any appointment I made. Sitting in the cab outside the CLOSED L'Oreal studio at 0550 we waited for someone to open up. Finally (approximately 0605), some lights came on, and so we grabbed everything (dress, shoes, jewellery) and rushed over. Eager to start the treatments, we waited another 45 minutes for the artist to arrive. In the meanwhile Aman and I explored world politics and Indian beuracracy with the receptionist, a retired gentleman who was working in the Studio to keep himself busy. Topics which were far too serious for this time of the morning did a good job of passing time. Chiku, the beautician rolled up huffing and puffing, exclaiming that she had had a nightmare journey into work and we go started straight away. I was fairly relaxed during the makeover, with Aman reassuring me that the makeup was looking grand. It was only when I realised the time had reached 0935 (we were due at the gurdwara (Sikh temple) at 0900) that I started panicing, which then led to an automatic burst of waterworks and nearly ruining the makeup. I told Aman to run ahead and ask the driver to start the cab. I, fully dressed in all my clobber, had to take it slow in case I had a tumble down the steps. Having shouted at Chiku, and a colleague of hers for making me late, I left the Studio and was on my way to the gurdwara.

Arriving at the gurdwara, I was still in a panic. The barat (Toni and his family) had not arrived but all I could think of was "what if they arrived right this moment?" and so, out of the cab, I legged it into the building, and about five minutes later, Toni arrived. Phew, I had made it, and was feeling better once my masi's bombarded the waiting room I was sitting in. They brought with them food and advice. I was given a quick lesson on the ceremony, and rules on how to behave. It was brief but would prove to be extremely useful.

For me it started a little later than Amrit´s but with a similar panic because till now I had not tried to tie my wedding turban and with nerves on the edge it did not tie well. With a little help from my cousin it was finally tied. Then started the "dress-up ceremony" for the day with help from my sister and sister-in-law who fixed the "kalgi" onto my turban, and placed "surma" on my eyes, and after alot of confusion, I was ready.

Speaking of dresses my fantastic five: Eva, Stian, Anna, May and Kamal were all dressed in Indian fasion. Stian even wore a turban and was turned into a Sikh for the day.

But as Indian weddings go nothing was on time. We were already getting late to the gurdwara. As you know I am one who likes to be on time, and you might see the stress on my face in the photos and the way I was holding my ceremonial sword, ready to use it on someone or something and really make MY DAY.

Just as my mind was preoccupied with plotting and scheming, the car which was to take me to the gurdwara arrived, driven by none other than my brother Sammy (chauffeur for the day), the car was then flowered-up with technical assistance from Norway (Tina and May).

With everything checked on the check list I was ready to go to the temple:
1 Toni fully dressed – check
2 The sword still not used on anyone – check
3 My driver not drunk – check
4 Anna been stuffed with drugs – check (she had food poisoning, but still wanted to see the wedding hence the drugs)

GO GO GO

After 15 minutes of safe driving by Sammy we were at the temple and the usual ciaos of the Indian weddings took over. No one new what to do. Both the families stood facing each other. All I could think of was "my shoes are killing me, could you all move on please"! Because I was so close to God (in the temple), my wish was granted rather quickly.
Breakfast was being served and everyone jumped into have bite. I was just too nervous to eat and wanted to get married quickly. I was edging towards to hall where Amrit and I were to be married and I reached there first, even before the priest. One by one people started to enter but there was still no sign of the priest. In the end a massive priest hunt was started by my FIL (father in-law). After what felt like an eternity he was found and things finally began. To this day I don't know where the priest had gone and why, I guess he is only answerable to God. Anyway as long as he did his bit and I got married to my Amrit I was not complaining.

There are so many ceremonies in a Sikh wedding it's really had to keep track of what's happening and what one should do. The first ceremony is done by the bride's family. They come bearing gifts by way of a ton of fruit and sweets, (I think in the back of every groom's mind he is thinking "do I have to eat it all") and a gold "kara" (bangle). I think one just has to sit tight and take it as it comes. Then there is a long wait for the bride and, oh my god she looked so beautiful in her dress, but I dare not look up directly at her face but you know, guys have their ways hehe.

I didn't have to wait long before I was called in to the hall for the wedding ceremony. With all my masi's and Indian relatives in tow, my brothers took me to the hall and I made the grand entrance (which, this time I was hoping for). Whilst I sat at the front of the hall, I analysed what, if anything, I should be feeling and came to the conclusion that I should be nervous, perhaps a little frightened and anxious about this being the biggest and most important day of my life, a pivotal point where I was choosing to make a decision which would change my life forever. Instead, all I could think of was how nice it was to sit next to Toni and ways in which I could catch his eye! In the end, we ended up knee-fighting each other! This was during a speech from a priest at the temple in lessons of married life. According to him, I am to rise before and go to sleep after my husband has. I am to attend to all his needs. I think the priest got it the wrong way!

So we started the four rounds around the holy book which will change my life forever (I have to specify now: "change my life for the BETTER"). You see a man gets specific just after four "pheras". Now that's what I call marriage. You can't leave things to be interpreted the wrong way, I have to go home to a wife now, that too without a crash helmet. I am learning fast.

Yes we did our pheras. It actually felt quite spiritual for me - I embraced every moment - from my dad handing me Toni's "palah" to the final "ardas". I did feel like something almost magical happened during the ceremony. Afterwards, I was in constant smile-mode. It was the best feeling of my life!

Then off to lunch. Sammy our special driver, managed to get us to Chimney Heights, the lunch venue, well before most other guests arrived. We were walked into the grounds by a band which included a bagpipe player. I felt so special. Toni, on the other hand was very embarassed. I think it got worse for him when the band gathered around us and fresh petal confetti was thrown. That was the pinnacle for me. We sat on our "thrones" for the "shagan" ceremony whereby family and friends gave us a gift and had photos with us. Then there were more photos in a makeshift studio set up by the photographers. All in all, 1500 photos were taken!

We did find time to eat towards the end of the afternoon and were served personally by the Manager of the catering. He brought countless plates, each holding different dishes so that we had a chance to taste each and every dish on the menu. I was particularly impressed by the variety and quality of the food. Everything tasted delicious.

Toni, constantly checking his watch, was eager to leave on time and so next came the "doli" ceremony where I said good bye to my family. It was an emotional farewell, that is until the band started playing to lead us out - that made me chuckle.

With the ceremony done and the MAN becoming the mouse, the only thing to top the hurt, male ego was the lecture given by the head priest, whose long talk was putting not only the newly wed couple to sleep but most of the people who were present there. The only thing which kept me awake was the naughty knee-knocking by my wife: a bold move.

After the wedding it was a rush to move to the lunch venue, the reason being that the next lamb (groom) had arrived to be slaughtered at the temple, I mean for his marriage vows (becoming another mouse). The second reason for the rush was that I needed food. With Sammy at the wheel we reached the venue in rally style and to welcome us was a band and family members.
Next was the photo session with the whole of the family with our photographer forcing us to smile. Still no food for me just more photos, it was late in the afternoon when the people who really loved us thought we might be hungry and we were served food.

Then came the time for Amrit to say good bye to her family. I think it was harder then she had thought, with tears in her eyes we drove back to our new home. There we were met with the custom of crossing 3 barriers to enter the home: my brothers, my mum and my sisters.

With me just on the edge of blowing my top (we can say because of the stress) the resistance was minimal. I needed rest but there was the evening party to go to and get ready for. For me it was a big challenge since I had promised myself that I would get rid of my much loved beard (that's what I like to think). So while Amrit got ready I went for a beauty make over, coming back just in time to pick up Amrit for the evening party .

We were the last ones to reach the venue, but we were the chief guests and as the rule in India states, the more important one is the more delayed is his arrival. With the law on our side we walked in with our heads held high.

With all the stress of the past few day I decided to chill out with drinks of clear water from vast expanses of the Russian prairie mixed with the lemon water from the foot hills at the Himalayas. With my friend JD serving me the water, I had no chance of surviving the Russian revolution in the foot hills. So I will let Amrit tell you what happened in the next few hours of the party. I don't seem to remember too much, I trust my wife to write an honest account of the evening.

The Russians had quite an effect on my husband, what with his memory loss and I might have sipped on a few of his lemon waters but obviously did not feel effects of such intensity. Our entrance was grand, having let my hair down and changed into lighter-weighing clothes and jewellery. Toni was also feeling lighter without his weghty beard.

Another stage was erected just for us and we followed, what had become, usual practice for us in the day, namely photographs galore with more relatives, but less of the formal stances. We were then taken to the dance floor and had our first dance off-queue before the cake in true non-tradition. That got everyone dancing and then I suddenly I remembered that we had to cut the cake.

The cake has its own story with it. It caused stress, arguments and stroppy encounters from the rani. But it all worked out in the end, even if the three-tier cake weighed 20 kilos and could not hold itself up. In the end, we had a two-tier cake with the middle tier placed next to it. The bakers obviously didn't envisage the problem. We gathered the family and cut the cake together (almost causing it to collapse with the sheer force of our slicing action). Our parents and siblings fed us and then we fed each other.

THEN came our OFFICIAL first dance. Another last-minute planned operation, Toni's friend Kami had been asking me throughout the evening which song to play for our first dance. I could not think of the song that Toni and I had discussed months ago. By sheer fluke, or psychic powers, or telepathic magic, the DJ played Fanaa, which was the song I couldn't think of.

It was perfect. We were dancing. By this time Toni could not focus. He kept warning me that he would step on my foot and that he could not dance. He asked me to lead. I wouldn't have it any other way. So we danced, until Toni realised he was dancing, and then he called for his family and friends to join in. It was great. I danced loads with our family and all our friends.

By the end of the night, we had danced, we had mingled and we had finally got around to eating. Toni's extended family were fascinated with the news that I could speak a little Punjabi and gathered round me to hear an excerpt. After the nerves had passed and the brain had started to function, I said something, which proved to be the key to success, and gained recognition for being a sweet girl who speaks sweet Punjabi.

The day was the best of my life, a perfect day filled with true happiness and twists of magic. We began married life as we mean to go on: life is never boring for us and is not likely to be.