Saturday, December 19, 2009

Love

Natasha wonders about Love. She has heard that Love is the ultimate substance of the Universe - on it exists everything and so logically it then is...Everything. Coming back to human life - how does love fit into everything?

I am still baffled between the different variations of love. I love my mother. I love my father. I love my brother. I love all my dogs (Twinkle and Blacky). Is love enough to sustain a relationship? Can and does love conquer all? Is not love also letting go? Is love also anger, hate and fear - how do you know which actions emanate from love - because if love is the source of all things, then are not all actions, then a manifestation of love?

Love.....Love......Love. Shakespeare give me a heads-up. But then wasn't it Shakespeare's own questions, confusion and unravelling of love that led him to create the plays, words and plots that he did?

Or is it love if I dictate it so. Simple. And applicable in all situations.

I will get back to you on this one. It may not be love that I am looking for at all. It may be certainty. Some sense of surety. Assurance. A solid, stout tree in raging tidal waters. It may purely be Logic that I yearn for, and the capacity to be. I completely underrated the existence and utility of logic. Everything is logical except when it isn't. Is logic, love?

Natasha wishes she had kept updating her blog during her journey....+ her thoughts on Death

So....Now I am back in Sydney. It is the 20th of December 2009; 4.29pm and I am alone with my PC and my thoughts.

I do miss my travels to India and Sri Lanka - and promise to update this log as and when I remember those 'gem-ish' moments. I am travelling to see Papa in Fiji in January of 2010 - so more adventures await.

It is almost Christmas and this year has been ginormous in terms of experiences, learnings and the unravelling of life in all of its facets. And I have a feeling it is just starting.

Of recent -I have been thinking of death. No I am not suicidal! But it is prevalent. Apart from knowing people who have died recently (including my friend Momo from my India travels) and having many sick friends who are on the verge - my mind wonders about this great shadow. Is it the great arbitrator of existence? Is it the ultimate harbinger of freedom and truth? Do I only know my life at my death? (And then holding onto the belief that death is in itself an illusion and doesn't exist in the greater scheme of things. I have a friend who says death is no-thing. He smiles at it and says to embrace it. But I am going to put these particular thoughts aside for now)

I have written 3 eulogies - and their content is rather transient except for this - I want to know that in the last few moments of breathe, I will be able to say that I lived life my way and I lived the life I wanted to lead and live. This is my truth it seems, if any truth can be owned (??) Cliche maybe - but my favourite song is Sinatra's My Way.

So where does that leave me. Now whilst I am alive - this notion is always on my mind. Am I now living the life I always wanted?And not always the easiest. What does this mean for my career and work? What does this mean for my relationships? What does this mean with family? What does this mean with my friends? What does this mean with my world? Who do I need to be?

All these questions are easy to tell you the truth. Simple.

The doosie is this - is the hard part getting on the path you want, or on staying on it? I am finding it is the latter. Why? Because I am a sovereign mass of energy and if life is mine and mine alone; then what do I look for to keep me going, on track and to endure all the questions - if it is me and all me. Alpha and Omega. Sometimes I wish Neo had taken the blue pill. But damn! What a rabbit hole this is.

I am listening to Sinatra now. I love the man. He never ceases to amaze me with the depth of his emotion and understanding.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Natasha is loving Rishikesh

In my last post, Natasha mentioned that she was going from Haridwar to Delhi; by which she meant Rishikesh instead of Delhi.

Rishikesh is guru central. Yoga, meditation and lots of 'holy' babas. I didn't participate in any of this and it feels very good. Yet I felt alive and well. It is the Ganga, mother Ganga (the Ganges river) and the strong mountains - it is still clean here so I swam in it. At first I was laughing at the tourists swimming in the river -next day I was taking a dip in it. Sometimes I am so wrong.

I have 2 minutes before my internet time runs out. 20 rupees. I am now in Rajastan but will update more on my time in Rishi.

Now time for some dhal....

Monday, February 16, 2009

The Train Trip

So there we are Lola and I on a 6am train to Haridwar from where we will transfer to Delhi.

Sleeper class, AC section - nice seats. Not at all bad, considering I had heard some shocking stories about trains. Best things - we got warm chickpeas and roti for brekky. Doesn't sound overly yummy does it? But you know what - it was. Oh! quick note - everything we have consumed that is packaged like chips is out of the date here by about 1-2 months. At first I was shocked but I realised this only after I had eaten quite a bit. So I decided to close my eyes and radiate beautiful love energy to protect myself - failing that. I had the options of making myself vomit, (the other back option) or rely on my travel insurance.

Oh! I also forgot 2 things. Rewind to Delhi - we met 3 polish backpackers who were a lot of fun. And I bought a phone in Delhi - which was a bit of a mission I tell you. Vodafone, nokia - my long and trusted allies. For future reference if you want to buy a phone in India you need to have the numbers of two people in India who can vouch for you. I had Jojo and Momo.

In Indian trains - the toiletting is...well, let's say natural. There is a hole in the toilet/squat - and the hole falls away to the rail tracks taking with it...well, i hope you get the picture. Lola and I didn't know this till a little too late. The smart thing = poo whilst train moving. We didn't. When we stopped at a station, we decided to do our thing. So I went, Then she went. She did a poo. The poo entered the toilet hole. Then proceeded down the hole to the railtrack with the poo paper. Next to the track are people - sitting down on the seats directly facing the dropping poo. So a lot of people got very acquainted with Lola very quickly through this process. There are special people designated to clean the poo from the tracks. I felt real gratitude for my life at this point of realisation. I have nothing to complain about. I did not poo during the rest of my journey.

Delhi continued.....

I had originally planned to stay a total of a week in Delhi but I was out of that place in a day. Part escape, part fortune. The 5.2 star place I was staying in with the bucket shower also led to a meeting with a Texan lass named Lola. She was studying Indian religion in.....Japan - she herself admits that this is slightly irregular :) Lola was going to Rishikesh to meet a friend, Pawpaw. (Nb - By now you should have figured out that names are going to be changed for my stories) I have absolutely no plans for my trip - so I go where the Texan winds take me.

Our 5.2 star apartment was owned by Jojo who also had a friend, Momo. These two gentlemen were very nice and kind and bought us tandoori chicken, roti and wine and beer – dear kindred souls. So we chatted, philosophized and massaged till the wee hours on the morning. Beautiful people who I cherish and I am not saying this because this is a public blog.

So we had a day to kill in Delhi. We booked our train tix and got seriously ripped off by this pleasant faced man. Where was my intuition? His game was so sharp - I hope he had a sick mother or something for whom he really needed the money. We were then charged down by a black cow in the middle of the street. You know what your real self is like in those unexpected moments – because when that mother cow charged – I was happy to step out of the way and let it get Lola. I am so ashamed but it is the truth. And now because I am not catholic, or Buddhist or any other denomination – I have no way of saving myself for Heaven.

We checked out ChandiChowd bazaar (which I have spelt incorrectly) – this place sounds exotic doesn’t it? But really it isn’t. It was hot, bloody crowded and overpopulated with the male species. Everywhere I looked - I was locked in by people who looked like me. It was moderately scary I tell you. I have new respect for Australians living in Australia. I left that place before I arrived. Really all this about ‘experiencing life fully’ – you know what – there are just things I don’t like. I am not enlightened; that much is clear.

I could talk more about my Delhi experience – but I won't. Lola and I caught an early morning train to Rishikesh.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Doing it in Delhi

Stepped onto a jet plane from Dubai and headed off to Delhi.

In Dubai airport, had a short chat with a lovely man who said I should make my life and business about spreading the message of world brotherhood. I took this as a message from my God.

Delhi didn't disappoint. Whilst at the airport, was buying delicious Lindt chocolate when cashier tried to rip me off with my change. They went to private taxi booth also operated by airport, guy tried to rip me off also with "no change" excuse. I think it was lack of mathematical genius that saved me because I kept trying to do the maths in my head and out loud, and they thought that I was demanding the money from them. In fact - I really had no idea I was being swindled.

It took me about 5 attempts to get a taxi to take me. I also almost got my Lindt chocolate stolen - all this happening in the airport grounds. I laughed, because what else to do? Incredible India.

Got into the 'apartment' in Delhi. Very basic. Shower was a bucket and cup. Toilet - not working. But it was a place to stay and for that I was very grateful.

I am in Rishikesh now - and my internet access is running out. It is Friday 13th, 9.47 pm and I am loving India.

Be in touch soon

The Dubai massacre

Dubai update - better late than ever.

I left there about a week and a half ago.

Let me be honest from the get-go - I am not a fan of Dubai so everything henceforth is completely biased.

You would think that for a city that is spending money like an Indian going to temple - they would think of simple things like internet access. They are so far advanced that they have wi-fi but this is completely useless if you don't have your own laptop.

(Breathe Natasha)

Got into Dubai airport, without a visa because I had been informed in sydney that its electronic and not stamped; of course the people in the airport didn't know about this new fangled concept. First heart-attack but...it worked out. Cab from airport to place of residence - starts at about 25 dirham; second heart attack. This was just a taster for the expense of the city. Everything is super prized. To put it into perspective - Burger King meal - regular $9 aussi. Chinese dish (rice and bit of chicken - about $13 aussi.

All i see and hear 25.2 hours a day is construction and more construction. There is dust everywhere and more and more HUGE buildings. They are building Dubai to be the next Mother Las Vegas replete with all the fast food and luxury, minus gamlbing and more importantly consumers. Everywhere I went (with the exception of Mall of Emirates were populated predominantly by security guards and cleaners) I kept looking for actual consumers and saw about 2.

Why Dubai will never be home for me? Bloody traffic - it is bumper to bumper everywhere at all times. At first I thought this was endearing - you know "new place, oh! how exciting...." this feel good spirit left me at the second traffic light. Oh! The homous to my pita bread was the lack of pedestrian crossings in the city. None. And yet I was told that pedestrians were really valued in the city. Still doesn't compute.

(Big exhalation) The saving grace of Dubai for me. The beach at Jumeira, public buses and the people. The buses are 2 dirham to go anywhere and the buses have places reserved for just the ladies. There is also a healthy respect for women in the culture.

Very very wealthy city. The Dubai landowners have an option to work if they wish. Mostly they hang out in the malls, sip at Starbucks and speak on their Nokias. No Exaggeration. But I met so many hard working migrants. They easily work 12-14 hours, and eat and sleep in these crowded apartments the size of my bathroom, paying 1000 euros a month still. The people who build the monstrocities are mostly from india, pakistan, sri lanka etc, get paid a pittance and live in labour camps. I will upload the pics soon.

I could live in Dubai if Mars crashed into Earth and dubai had the only water available but short of that - it would take a lot of (mostly money...:) to get me to create an existence there.

So - I left on a jet plane. With fond memories of Ammer and his boys and their beautiful kindness.

Next stop Delhi.

Friday, January 30, 2009

The Day Before

It is 4.29 pm in sydney australia. Blistering heat (though my friends in melb and sa are doing it much worse). I am just booking travel insurance - well, still thinking about booking it to be honest. I thought i might test out a philosophy and not do the whole insurance thing. Law of attraction anyone? Do insurance sparking events happen to us because we insure in the first place? How did Columbus and Magellan and anyone on a boat back in the day manage without insurance? Who knows America may still be undiscovered to this day - Columbus could still be trying to select the best policy. I don't have anything against insurance - but if nothing does go wrong, are we then not entitled to our money back perhaps?

But then my father prompted the whole insurance convo thing and I thinking that it was God sending me a message - I reneged on my courage, i mean, opinion and now will indeed take a bite into the insurance sandwich.

I leave tomorrow to dubai. I just organised a place to stay online. I have no address except tiffany's at dubai mall and a random phone number. Something tells me that 'something' is a remiss.

From Dubai I leave for New Delhi - accomodation still pending. My whole philosophy of throwing it all to the Universe and been completely unprepared is certainly taking wings. I am petrified. I am so petrified that I don't realise that I am petrified. Yes, that scared.

I just bought a Lonely Planet Guide today priced at $52.97 - and got charged $53. Does anyone ever wonder what happens to that extra 3cents - how much do THEY really make out of US? And so much for NOT taking the tourist path. I keep telling myself that this is just in case i get 'stuck' and I will know where to find a place to stay....hmmm!!

Reading that damn book made me more scared than ever - it speaks of whacked out, maniachal taxi drivers who don't take you to your destination but to the destination they want to go to - this is puzzling. Perhaps, they missed the Taxi-driver 101 class - i.e. it is the customer that pays to get to where he/she wants to go to.

My plan for India. To be mute. I look the part but unfortunately dont speak the part. I will try this out to. Perhaps an Indian chick with Turrets to explain my occasional slips of anger, i mean emotion.

I will sign off now and update when not lazy.