I wish everyone in the world the happiest New Year's in 2012.
Going back to Christmas in London... Saturday 24th December, my appointment with Sylvia awaited in the afternoon. It was Christmas Eve, and I had invited five friends over for dinner at my place, all at the last minute. Something about that Samurai sword I had picked up in the black cab bothered me; hence, the decision to get rid of it became inevitable.
What was I to do? Take it to the Police station and say what exactly? Especially having been told it's illegal to keep it at home! I envisaged myself with the police:
'Excuse me, Sir, I've picked up this sword in a black cab, took it home with me and then decided I don't really wanna keep it, so here you are!' Mmm... Perhaps not.
And what if I threw it away and someone found it, only to commit some God-forbidden incident with it? The thought made me cringe. I wondered about leaving it outside a Chinese restaurant; it could come in handy for chopping as the sharpness of the blade shone every time I took it out of the box to have another look at the monstrous tool. Couldn't do that either, as some passer-by could pick it up and return to the evil act. With my fingerprints on! Greaaaat.
I recalled my young friend Salar's words of wisdom... What is found on the floor (or cab, in this case) stays on the floor!
There was no way I wanted the sword in my apartment, so I picked a large black fabric bag from a well-known fashion house to carry the knife to my appointment, followed by grocery shopping at Harrods and M&S, then handing it to a charity shop on my way home. I am still trying to figure out how I would explain the situation.
By the time I finished all my chores, praying I would not, for some strange reason, be stopped by the police and searched carrying a Samurai Sword around town, all the shops had closed by 5.30pm. Damn!
Still not giving up, I walked towards the Charity shop, relieved I would, at least, not have to face a sales assistant with an explanation. Meanwhile, in my mind, I envisaged a glass door to the shop with a letterbox at the bottom of a wooden frame to fit the box in. I honestly prayed and closed my eyes as I got close. When I opened my eyes, to my absolute delight, the door was exactly as I had hoped, with a letterbox big enough to fit the container of the sword in! Oooooffff! What a relief. Mission accomplished, I hurried home to prepare a table of starters for my dear guests.
My relatively new artist friend Aldo arrived with an introduction to his partner, Nico. Followed by Omar and Bobby, whom I met about seven years ago when they first moved to London. Tila joined, too. Bobby and I were involved in such deep conversation that I forgot to check on the beautiful meal my housekeeper had prepared the day before. When I realised, a good part of the meal was burned! And there is me promising my boy I shall learn to cook for him again in the New Year. Oh well, the most important thing was 'being together', and what was left of the food still tasted great.
After all these years, I finally managed to get to the midnight Christmas mass at Brompton Oratory with my good buddies. It reminded me of my choir days at boarding school.
Despite all the great invites for Christmas Day, I was happy to spend it with Charlotte, Nicolas and their boy. It was a relaxing day where we truly got to talk, and my friends' remarks reflected how far I have come over the years. Nicolas said:
"Haldita, in all the years I've known you, I didn't realise your wisdom. You're always surrounded by friends and enjoying life, but we never got to the depth of your thoughts!"
I answered: "If only people understood that madness is my wisdom. Why take matters too seriously when life is so short. Enjoy. Live and let live. I've nothing to prove to anyone after all."
I had to pack on Monday as my evening flight to Dubai awaited. In the cab on the way to the airport, I texted in answer to Gio:
'Ooooff! Finally, in the smelly cab on the way to Heathrow. I simply just don't get this concept of travelling light?!?'
And that is true as my 28kg luggage weighed heavily on the scales, but thank goodness, Emirates is better than most mean airlines.
Seeing Lora at her villa in Dubai's Al Manara was a pleasure. The four-bedroom house was swamped with ladies from all corners of the world now living there.
Despite my many previous visits, the city of high rises and global ex-pats had felt rather soulless, not quite my scene. Everyone seemed to live there temporarily, with the idea of making a buck or two and then leaving. With all the islands in the world, they still built a Palm Island, all the natural ski resorts everywhere, and a ski slope inside a shopping mall!
On this trip, Lora's worldly connections over years of working there made me look at the city in a new light. Instead of visiting shopping malls, she left me in the great company of two lady DJ friends. At the same time, she attended to her daily chores, and the lovely ladies of music accompanied me for a pleasant afternoon, sitting by the sea, absorbing the beauty of nature on an almost stranded beach area. The weather was perfect for that time of year, and I spent some time on my own, meditating and stretching while the girls took a stroll on the sand. I took some great shots, which I shall download here soon.
The four of us (Lora, two DJ friends and Moi) began at the relatively new Mahiki Club in the evening. I must admit the sister club in London has never been one I cared to visit, and here, the smokey surroundings with the kind of music I dread hearing made it quite intolerable for my liking. Thank goodness we left to try out the white and modern Siddharta Lounge at the Grosvenor House, then onto Toro Toro, where I saw a London friend who was insisting I joined her at the opening of the London's Movida Club that evening in Dubai (which I thankfully refused) and finished the night off with a nightcap at The Embassy Club; getting further acquainted.
On my last and second evenings, Lora drove me to her good friend Ravi's barbecue at his family's lavish villa. What an incredibly hospitable family. The food was divine, especially those chicken skewers and the company of their friends made my stay in Dubai by far the best I can recall. Once again, my words of wisdom to a gorgeous newlywed couple made a temporary impact. Or so I hope.
The only thing I missed was the company of my brother Soltan, who had been almost my only reason for visiting the city in the past, but he did not live there any longer.
Lora and I had a 4:40am flight to catch to Jakarta. The one-hour stopover to follow on to our final destination of Bali got delayed, and we almost missed our flight having a massage at the airport parlour!
We arrived in Bali late that evening and found the only restaurant serving food at 11pm. Tulip was a Turkish eatery, good enough to feed our hunger.
In the morning, we had breakfast at Bali Buddha, where I saw a good-looking stranger pass by our table. On second glance, I knew exactly who that was. Well, almost. Walked to his outside table, as he sat in beautiful company and said:
"Christopher?"
He pleasantly replied 'no' to my question, hiding behind his dark sunglasses.
"But I know you." I insisted. "What's your name?"
"Seppe." He answered and smiled immediately in recognition, then stood up to greet me:
"Haldita, hi."
Think everyone knows I am shit with remembering names! I am the first to confess that the list of names is endless.
That afternoon, I spent most of the time alone, lying on the lawn at Kudeta, sipping fresh juice, listening to great music, absorbing the sun and observing everything and everyone. Love people watching. Eventually, Lora and Seppe joined me for an innocent cocktail.
In the evening, Lora suggested dinner at her favourite Dahana Indonesian. As we were leaving the place at the end of a deliciously freshly made meal, who did I bump into? The gorgeous Mireille with whom I had been partying in Fabric only a few weeks earlier! What a small world it really is! Wow.
Lora, the couple accompanying us and I, then went on to Metis, a very fancy restaurant where she knew the French owner, for a pistachio chocolate souffle dessert. Out of this world, especially accompanied by a bottle of Chateau Chanteloiseau 2005.
New Year's Eve was dinner in the villa, organised by Lora and cooked by her help here for all the eight of us staying in the house, followed by six of us going to a bar, where I had the Russian artist spray-paint wings on my upper chest. At the same time, we downed a couple of Sambuca shots, and her Argentinian photographer partner took a picture of my 'flying boobs'! Or so I called them.
We then were driven to 'Potato Head', where we had tickets purchased in advance to spend New Year's Eve partying there. Despite the long queue to get in, we cleverly pushed our way to the front of the VIP entrance, and I managed to pleasantly persuade the lady at the door to stamp us through the special entrance! God loves me; he must do.
Through the masses awaiting service at the bar, Lora approached the waiters' area and picked up a bottle of an exceptional tequila to get the attention of being served. As she walked away, waiting to be spotted and stopped by at least one of the staff, she managed to walk away with the bottle without being noticed! All very innocently. We were all far too tipsy to pay too much attention and went on drinking from the bottle all night, along with all the other softer drinks we bought through the night.
So much has happened in my life that I could go on writing forever!
But so did my friends ... We began 2012 with a big bang of fireworks at Potato Head in Bali! In London two to three weeks ago, even the thought would have been far from my mind.
Go ahead and use your mind's power to make your dreams a reality.
My prayer for us all is ... May God bless us with a Healthy mind and body to overcome any obstacles and reach the top.
Going back to Christmas in London... Saturday 24th December, my appointment with Sylvia awaited in the afternoon. It was Christmas Eve, and I had invited five friends over for dinner at my place, all at the last minute. Something about that Samurai sword I had picked up in the black cab bothered me; hence, the decision to get rid of it became inevitable.
What was I to do? Take it to the Police station and say what exactly? Especially having been told it's illegal to keep it at home! I envisaged myself with the police:
'Excuse me, Sir, I've picked up this sword in a black cab, took it home with me and then decided I don't really wanna keep it, so here you are!' Mmm... Perhaps not.
And what if I threw it away and someone found it, only to commit some God-forbidden incident with it? The thought made me cringe. I wondered about leaving it outside a Chinese restaurant; it could come in handy for chopping as the sharpness of the blade shone every time I took it out of the box to have another look at the monstrous tool. Couldn't do that either, as some passer-by could pick it up and return to the evil act. With my fingerprints on! Greaaaat.
I recalled my young friend Salar's words of wisdom... What is found on the floor (or cab, in this case) stays on the floor!
There was no way I wanted the sword in my apartment, so I picked a large black fabric bag from a well-known fashion house to carry the knife to my appointment, followed by grocery shopping at Harrods and M&S, then handing it to a charity shop on my way home. I am still trying to figure out how I would explain the situation.
By the time I finished all my chores, praying I would not, for some strange reason, be stopped by the police and searched carrying a Samurai Sword around town, all the shops had closed by 5.30pm. Damn!
Still not giving up, I walked towards the Charity shop, relieved I would, at least, not have to face a sales assistant with an explanation. Meanwhile, in my mind, I envisaged a glass door to the shop with a letterbox at the bottom of a wooden frame to fit the box in. I honestly prayed and closed my eyes as I got close. When I opened my eyes, to my absolute delight, the door was exactly as I had hoped, with a letterbox big enough to fit the container of the sword in! Oooooffff! What a relief. Mission accomplished, I hurried home to prepare a table of starters for my dear guests.
My relatively new artist friend Aldo arrived with an introduction to his partner, Nico. Followed by Omar and Bobby, whom I met about seven years ago when they first moved to London. Tila joined, too. Bobby and I were involved in such deep conversation that I forgot to check on the beautiful meal my housekeeper had prepared the day before. When I realised, a good part of the meal was burned! And there is me promising my boy I shall learn to cook for him again in the New Year. Oh well, the most important thing was 'being together', and what was left of the food still tasted great.
After all these years, I finally managed to get to the midnight Christmas mass at Brompton Oratory with my good buddies. It reminded me of my choir days at boarding school.
Despite all the great invites for Christmas Day, I was happy to spend it with Charlotte, Nicolas and their boy. It was a relaxing day where we truly got to talk, and my friends' remarks reflected how far I have come over the years. Nicolas said:
"Haldita, in all the years I've known you, I didn't realise your wisdom. You're always surrounded by friends and enjoying life, but we never got to the depth of your thoughts!"
I answered: "If only people understood that madness is my wisdom. Why take matters too seriously when life is so short. Enjoy. Live and let live. I've nothing to prove to anyone after all."
I had to pack on Monday as my evening flight to Dubai awaited. In the cab on the way to the airport, I texted in answer to Gio:
'Ooooff! Finally, in the smelly cab on the way to Heathrow. I simply just don't get this concept of travelling light?!?'
And that is true as my 28kg luggage weighed heavily on the scales, but thank goodness, Emirates is better than most mean airlines.
Seeing Lora at her villa in Dubai's Al Manara was a pleasure. The four-bedroom house was swamped with ladies from all corners of the world now living there.
Despite my many previous visits, the city of high rises and global ex-pats had felt rather soulless, not quite my scene. Everyone seemed to live there temporarily, with the idea of making a buck or two and then leaving. With all the islands in the world, they still built a Palm Island, all the natural ski resorts everywhere, and a ski slope inside a shopping mall!
On this trip, Lora's worldly connections over years of working there made me look at the city in a new light. Instead of visiting shopping malls, she left me in the great company of two lady DJ friends. At the same time, she attended to her daily chores, and the lovely ladies of music accompanied me for a pleasant afternoon, sitting by the sea, absorbing the beauty of nature on an almost stranded beach area. The weather was perfect for that time of year, and I spent some time on my own, meditating and stretching while the girls took a stroll on the sand. I took some great shots, which I shall download here soon.
The four of us (Lora, two DJ friends and Moi) began at the relatively new Mahiki Club in the evening. I must admit the sister club in London has never been one I cared to visit, and here, the smokey surroundings with the kind of music I dread hearing made it quite intolerable for my liking. Thank goodness we left to try out the white and modern Siddharta Lounge at the Grosvenor House, then onto Toro Toro, where I saw a London friend who was insisting I joined her at the opening of the London's Movida Club that evening in Dubai (which I thankfully refused) and finished the night off with a nightcap at The Embassy Club; getting further acquainted.
On my last and second evenings, Lora drove me to her good friend Ravi's barbecue at his family's lavish villa. What an incredibly hospitable family. The food was divine, especially those chicken skewers and the company of their friends made my stay in Dubai by far the best I can recall. Once again, my words of wisdom to a gorgeous newlywed couple made a temporary impact. Or so I hope.
The only thing I missed was the company of my brother Soltan, who had been almost my only reason for visiting the city in the past, but he did not live there any longer.
Lora and I had a 4:40am flight to catch to Jakarta. The one-hour stopover to follow on to our final destination of Bali got delayed, and we almost missed our flight having a massage at the airport parlour!
We arrived in Bali late that evening and found the only restaurant serving food at 11pm. Tulip was a Turkish eatery, good enough to feed our hunger.
In the morning, we had breakfast at Bali Buddha, where I saw a good-looking stranger pass by our table. On second glance, I knew exactly who that was. Well, almost. Walked to his outside table, as he sat in beautiful company and said:
"Christopher?"
He pleasantly replied 'no' to my question, hiding behind his dark sunglasses.
"But I know you." I insisted. "What's your name?"
"Seppe." He answered and smiled immediately in recognition, then stood up to greet me:
"Haldita, hi."
Think everyone knows I am shit with remembering names! I am the first to confess that the list of names is endless.
That afternoon, I spent most of the time alone, lying on the lawn at Kudeta, sipping fresh juice, listening to great music, absorbing the sun and observing everything and everyone. Love people watching. Eventually, Lora and Seppe joined me for an innocent cocktail.
In the evening, Lora suggested dinner at her favourite Dahana Indonesian. As we were leaving the place at the end of a deliciously freshly made meal, who did I bump into? The gorgeous Mireille with whom I had been partying in Fabric only a few weeks earlier! What a small world it really is! Wow.
Lora, the couple accompanying us and I, then went on to Metis, a very fancy restaurant where she knew the French owner, for a pistachio chocolate souffle dessert. Out of this world, especially accompanied by a bottle of Chateau Chanteloiseau 2005.
New Year's Eve was dinner in the villa, organised by Lora and cooked by her help here for all the eight of us staying in the house, followed by six of us going to a bar, where I had the Russian artist spray-paint wings on my upper chest. At the same time, we downed a couple of Sambuca shots, and her Argentinian photographer partner took a picture of my 'flying boobs'! Or so I called them.
We then were driven to 'Potato Head', where we had tickets purchased in advance to spend New Year's Eve partying there. Despite the long queue to get in, we cleverly pushed our way to the front of the VIP entrance, and I managed to pleasantly persuade the lady at the door to stamp us through the special entrance! God loves me; he must do.
Through the masses awaiting service at the bar, Lora approached the waiters' area and picked up a bottle of an exceptional tequila to get the attention of being served. As she walked away, waiting to be spotted and stopped by at least one of the staff, she managed to walk away with the bottle without being noticed! All very innocently. We were all far too tipsy to pay too much attention and went on drinking from the bottle all night, along with all the other softer drinks we bought through the night.
So much has happened in my life that I could go on writing forever!
But so did my friends ... We began 2012 with a big bang of fireworks at Potato Head in Bali! In London two to three weeks ago, even the thought would have been far from my mind.
Go ahead and use your mind's power to make your dreams a reality.
My prayer for us all is ... May God bless us with a Healthy mind and body to overcome any obstacles and reach the top.
No comments:
Post a Comment