I was reading the Observer Music Monthly's feature on music from the last decade and it suddenly struck me that we're just over a month away from one decade ending and a new one starting and I hadn't even realised until today. I was so baffled by this that I asked out loud "does this decade end this year or next?". My friend Lucy said next year but as I sat there, counting the years from 2000 to 2009 on my fingers, it dawned on me that the decade was coming to a close...
It feels like the decade it trying to end quietly, without anyone noticing, a bit like someone leaving a party without saying good-bye to anyone as they don't want people to know they've left. It feels like the noughties are trying to sneak out, tip-toe away without anyone making too much fuss. Is there something strange going on or is this what happens when you're a decade older and wiser? I know in general it's been a strange year globally because of the recession but even without that, I can't quite decide how I feel about this year. Generally when I look back over the year, I can easily identify the highs and the not-so-highs and the year will have a particular feel to it, it'll get lodged in my memory bank for particular reasons. 2009 just doesn't feel like that....
I can see the good things that have happened in the year, but these have often been the result of an otherwise not great situation - they've been the silver linings to my clouds. It's not been an ecstatically high or horribly low year but it's coming to an end and I'm not sure quite how I'll remember it.
I remember 1989 coming to a close and the excitement of a new decade about to start. Excitement tinged with a little apprehension, you're 20, you think you know everything about everything but actually you know nothing as you have little or no life experience. You're excited about what the new decade will bring but at the same time wondering what exactly it will bring and all you can do is wonder. The Berlin Wall had come down a few months earlier, I'd left home and started university and the adventure had just begun. Soul II Soul were singing about a new decade, I'd just read an article that profoundly changed my life as it resonated in a way that nothing had done before.
The end of 1999 seemed to be an even bigger affair for everyone, not just the end of a decade but the end of a millenium. Everyone was wondering if there'd be an IT meltdown just as we welcomed in the year 2000. It seemed like a big deal then but imagine it now - technology has leapt so far forwards that if you took away the internet and mobiles and other gadgets from people, even for a few hours, there would certainly be a meltdown - of the human kind....
Lets see what this new decade brings!
Sunday, 29 November 2009
Been a long time....
....since I last posted but I'm still here! The main reason for a lack of posting is that I have another blog but it's a private blog, for me only. There's nothing wild or crazy in it, just that I treat my blog like a diary and some of the stuff I write about, well it's not for public consumption. I've always written privately, even when I was doing the blog regularly last year, writing is my way of dealing with things in my life but that doesn't mean I want to share it with the world, just want a place to get it down.
Anyway, since my last post here, a lot has been happening and here's a quick overview. I went to Ibiza again for a few days. I was slightly apprehensive about going as Will my ex was going to be there and I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about being on the island at the same time as him. There's no animosity between us but he's just not a part of my life and as my first trip to the island happened a few months after we split up, Ibiza is a part of my life post-Will.
I got to the island a few days before he was arriving with the boys. I didn't have any contact with Will prior to going but he knew I'd be there and he was cool with that. The day they all arrived, Colin sent me a text to say they would be in Ibiza town later that evening and I said I'd meet them for a drink once I was back. I was off hopping around the island with Octavia but once we were back in town, we went to meet the boys for a few drinks. We had a hilarious few hours - I didn't engage that much with Will but I wasn't rude or difficult, just didn't have that much conversation for him. At one point, a slightly drunk Octavia turned to Will and the conversation went something like this:
O - so, you're Will?
W - erm, yes...
O - The Will?
W - err yes...
O - well you're a bloody idiot aren't you! I haven't known Azra that long but she is amazing!
She said some other lovely things about me but I can't remember exactly what these were because by this point, we all had the same reaction:
"Oh my god, I can't believe she just said that" and secretly thinking "she's just said what we've always thought but no-one ever said it out loud...."
I found the whole thing hilarious but it was one of those moments where you're left with your mouth hanging open in slight disbelief. The next day we were going off to Space (me and the boys, no Octavia) but we all met for a drink beforehand. From what Octavia said, Will thought I was dressing quite provocatively but I pointed out it was just my "Ibiza" wardrobe, in fact it was exactly the same outfit I'd worn to Space when I'd been in August. Once in Space, I hung out with the boys but didn't really engage that much with Will again. It wasn't intentional, I just don't feel any real connection with him anymore. He's still a lovely, sweet, gentle person but our lives are so different and I've moved on so much and we have nothing to bond us together.
After the previous night's hilarious turn of events, little did I know that that night would also have a funny twist. We'd been at Space a couple of hours and I was on the dance floor with all the boys, including Will. I turned round to see him a couple of feet away from me, snogging some woman he'd just pulled. A few years ago that would have hurt me so much yet all I could think was "Oh Will, if you had to pull someone in front of me, couldn't you have gone for someone younger and hotter!" - the woman in question was not exactly a stunner and that place if full of gorgeous girls. The next thing I thought was "Space is massive, do you have to do this right in front of me when you could have disappeared to a quiet little corner....". But although I had thoughts running through my head, I didn't feel anything and at that precise moment I gained a little piece of wisdom - a person can't hurt your feelings if you have no feelings for them.....
After Ibiza I came back to London for a day and then flew off to LA for a long weekend to celebrate my friend Carly's birthday. I visited LA twice in 1994 and didn't like it at all but on this trip, I fell in love with the place. I think it probably helped that Carly lives in a very cool part of Venice, not far from the beach and the vibe reminded me a little of Ibiza. It was great to see her and hang out with her in her home town as whenever we've met before, it's always been in London, I've never seen her on her home turf. We went to Palm Springs for the actual birthday celebrations, taking over Hope Springs for the weekend. The place consists of 10 double rooms, each with an en-suite and a kitchenette, positioned around a series of 3 pools, the main pool, a hot mineral pool and an even hotter indoor mineral pool. The whole place was decked out in gorgeous midcentury modern furniture and it felt good to be in such beautiful surroundings again. We were a total of 20 people for the birthday celebrations, most of them new faces for me. On the Saturday, I found myself in a total blissed out haze and when I'm like that, I don't really talk to anyone. It's not being anti-social, just that when I'm having my prolonged moments of joy, I seem to quietly enjoy them and experience them and talking is the last thing I want to do. By the Sunday, I'd found my voice again and we had a great morning hanging out in the pool, lots of animated conversation and laughing and plenty of anecdotes from me.
Once back from LA, I knew that the decadence of the previous two months had to end, to be replaced with total focus on Arbonne. During August and September, there had only been one week when I'd not been getting on a plane and although the jet set life-style was great fun and I got to hang out with people who are very special to me, it meant that my life was too disjointed to give Arbonne any real commitment. Having set things up before and knowing how I work, I need to focus completely on something and create momentum early on otherwise it just doesn't work for me. I want to see results quickly, I want to get on with things and if I feel like I'm dithering around, I lose interest.
So the last two months have been work-focused and November in particular has been great. As with anything, the results you see are effort-based - the more you put in, the more you get out. It helps that the products are just so amazing and having been using them for about six months now, I can really see the difference in my skin. Someone thought I was 22 a few weeks back so something is definitely working!
The irony is that my best week so far was also the week that we had health scares with both Ami and Abi (my parents for anyone who doesn't recognise the Urdu terms). I think finally they're coming to terms with the fact that their health needs attention and by ignoring things, they are doing nothing to prolong life. Ami spent a week in hospital and had a bone marrow biopsy - we're just waiting for the results to see what's going on. It's been a worrying, stressful fortnight but at least I've had work to keep me busy and focused but still allow me the flexibility to spend time at the hospital when need be. The busier and more focused I am, the better I seem to deal with things so just as well I got things kicked into action when I did.
There's not much else to report. I'm still staying at the family home in Dulwich but it'll be time to move on soon, particularly as my friend Wilding who lives 2 streets away is moving out of the hood in a few weeks time and suddenly Dulwich will lose a large part of its appeal. We've had some great spontaneous sessions hanging out and he has become a most brilliant friend so it'll be sad when he goes but no doubt it will be the catalyst for me to move too, although I still have no idea where I want to live. I still love the Palace but I know I don't want to move back into my old flat, a case of life moving forwards not backwards. I'm sure something will pop up soon to entice me to a particular place in London....
Anyway, since my last post here, a lot has been happening and here's a quick overview. I went to Ibiza again for a few days. I was slightly apprehensive about going as Will my ex was going to be there and I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about being on the island at the same time as him. There's no animosity between us but he's just not a part of my life and as my first trip to the island happened a few months after we split up, Ibiza is a part of my life post-Will.
I got to the island a few days before he was arriving with the boys. I didn't have any contact with Will prior to going but he knew I'd be there and he was cool with that. The day they all arrived, Colin sent me a text to say they would be in Ibiza town later that evening and I said I'd meet them for a drink once I was back. I was off hopping around the island with Octavia but once we were back in town, we went to meet the boys for a few drinks. We had a hilarious few hours - I didn't engage that much with Will but I wasn't rude or difficult, just didn't have that much conversation for him. At one point, a slightly drunk Octavia turned to Will and the conversation went something like this:
O - so, you're Will?
W - erm, yes...
O - The Will?
W - err yes...
O - well you're a bloody idiot aren't you! I haven't known Azra that long but she is amazing!
She said some other lovely things about me but I can't remember exactly what these were because by this point, we all had the same reaction:
"Oh my god, I can't believe she just said that" and secretly thinking "she's just said what we've always thought but no-one ever said it out loud...."
I found the whole thing hilarious but it was one of those moments where you're left with your mouth hanging open in slight disbelief. The next day we were going off to Space (me and the boys, no Octavia) but we all met for a drink beforehand. From what Octavia said, Will thought I was dressing quite provocatively but I pointed out it was just my "Ibiza" wardrobe, in fact it was exactly the same outfit I'd worn to Space when I'd been in August. Once in Space, I hung out with the boys but didn't really engage that much with Will again. It wasn't intentional, I just don't feel any real connection with him anymore. He's still a lovely, sweet, gentle person but our lives are so different and I've moved on so much and we have nothing to bond us together.
After the previous night's hilarious turn of events, little did I know that that night would also have a funny twist. We'd been at Space a couple of hours and I was on the dance floor with all the boys, including Will. I turned round to see him a couple of feet away from me, snogging some woman he'd just pulled. A few years ago that would have hurt me so much yet all I could think was "Oh Will, if you had to pull someone in front of me, couldn't you have gone for someone younger and hotter!" - the woman in question was not exactly a stunner and that place if full of gorgeous girls. The next thing I thought was "Space is massive, do you have to do this right in front of me when you could have disappeared to a quiet little corner....". But although I had thoughts running through my head, I didn't feel anything and at that precise moment I gained a little piece of wisdom - a person can't hurt your feelings if you have no feelings for them.....
After Ibiza I came back to London for a day and then flew off to LA for a long weekend to celebrate my friend Carly's birthday. I visited LA twice in 1994 and didn't like it at all but on this trip, I fell in love with the place. I think it probably helped that Carly lives in a very cool part of Venice, not far from the beach and the vibe reminded me a little of Ibiza. It was great to see her and hang out with her in her home town as whenever we've met before, it's always been in London, I've never seen her on her home turf. We went to Palm Springs for the actual birthday celebrations, taking over Hope Springs for the weekend. The place consists of 10 double rooms, each with an en-suite and a kitchenette, positioned around a series of 3 pools, the main pool, a hot mineral pool and an even hotter indoor mineral pool. The whole place was decked out in gorgeous midcentury modern furniture and it felt good to be in such beautiful surroundings again. We were a total of 20 people for the birthday celebrations, most of them new faces for me. On the Saturday, I found myself in a total blissed out haze and when I'm like that, I don't really talk to anyone. It's not being anti-social, just that when I'm having my prolonged moments of joy, I seem to quietly enjoy them and experience them and talking is the last thing I want to do. By the Sunday, I'd found my voice again and we had a great morning hanging out in the pool, lots of animated conversation and laughing and plenty of anecdotes from me.
Once back from LA, I knew that the decadence of the previous two months had to end, to be replaced with total focus on Arbonne. During August and September, there had only been one week when I'd not been getting on a plane and although the jet set life-style was great fun and I got to hang out with people who are very special to me, it meant that my life was too disjointed to give Arbonne any real commitment. Having set things up before and knowing how I work, I need to focus completely on something and create momentum early on otherwise it just doesn't work for me. I want to see results quickly, I want to get on with things and if I feel like I'm dithering around, I lose interest.
So the last two months have been work-focused and November in particular has been great. As with anything, the results you see are effort-based - the more you put in, the more you get out. It helps that the products are just so amazing and having been using them for about six months now, I can really see the difference in my skin. Someone thought I was 22 a few weeks back so something is definitely working!
The irony is that my best week so far was also the week that we had health scares with both Ami and Abi (my parents for anyone who doesn't recognise the Urdu terms). I think finally they're coming to terms with the fact that their health needs attention and by ignoring things, they are doing nothing to prolong life. Ami spent a week in hospital and had a bone marrow biopsy - we're just waiting for the results to see what's going on. It's been a worrying, stressful fortnight but at least I've had work to keep me busy and focused but still allow me the flexibility to spend time at the hospital when need be. The busier and more focused I am, the better I seem to deal with things so just as well I got things kicked into action when I did.
There's not much else to report. I'm still staying at the family home in Dulwich but it'll be time to move on soon, particularly as my friend Wilding who lives 2 streets away is moving out of the hood in a few weeks time and suddenly Dulwich will lose a large part of its appeal. We've had some great spontaneous sessions hanging out and he has become a most brilliant friend so it'll be sad when he goes but no doubt it will be the catalyst for me to move too, although I still have no idea where I want to live. I still love the Palace but I know I don't want to move back into my old flat, a case of life moving forwards not backwards. I'm sure something will pop up soon to entice me to a particular place in London....
Monday, 14 September 2009
Yoga
I have done yoga on and off for the last seven years. By on and off I mean that I'll do it religiously every week and then stop for a year or two for some reason.
I stopped doing ashtanga yoga when I moved to Ibiza so a year and a half ago. I was going to start there but never got round to finding a good teacher locally. In my last month, I did loads of Bikram yoga which was great but I still prefer ashtanga.
I've recently returned to my Saturday morning yoga class. I'd been meaning to start up ever since moving back but the thing that really propelled me back to class was that I've been swimming a lot in the mornings and often I'd find that after a swim, my body literally ached to do yoga, to be stretched and lengthened again.
I went to class about six weeks ago. Fortunately my body didn't feel too tight and it didn't feel as if I'd gone backwards too much. My body is very unsupple, always has been, so any length of time away from regular yoga often makes a huge difference. But things seem to be okay. In fact, I found I got into positions I'd never been able to get into before - simply because I'd forgotten that I'd never been able to do them. I found myself in one position and then thought "hang on, I couldn't actually do this before..."
I've done a couple of classes since. My body feels completely different. More open and strong and I don't know why that is. Last Saturday I got into a headstand properly and held it for a minute without toppling. I've never been able to get into a headstand before, I've always positioned myself by a wall and flung my legs up onto the wall and then slowly, gingerly moved them away and tried to keep my balance. But this time I managed it. You have to have fairly strong stomach muscles to be able to get into the position - maybe all those stomach crunches have made a difference after all!
I was so excited by my progress (it only took seven years to do it!) that I told my older sister when I saw her later.
"I've done a headstand and I'm going to do a grasshopper next"
"What's that?" she asked.
I went to demonstrate it and got into the position. I could only hold it for about a second before I toppled backwards but I still did it. That meant two firsts in one day - result!
This is one of the things I love about yoga. I am constantly making progress but it is millimetre by millimetre. And for someone as impatient as me, I'm surprised that I don't get frustrated by my slow progress. But I know that is because my body can only do what it can do. If I try and force it into something it's not ready to do, I'll get hurt. For someone in such a hurry to get every where and do every thing, it's good to have something where I make gentle progress but it's always a huge sense of achievement!
I stopped doing ashtanga yoga when I moved to Ibiza so a year and a half ago. I was going to start there but never got round to finding a good teacher locally. In my last month, I did loads of Bikram yoga which was great but I still prefer ashtanga.
I've recently returned to my Saturday morning yoga class. I'd been meaning to start up ever since moving back but the thing that really propelled me back to class was that I've been swimming a lot in the mornings and often I'd find that after a swim, my body literally ached to do yoga, to be stretched and lengthened again.
I went to class about six weeks ago. Fortunately my body didn't feel too tight and it didn't feel as if I'd gone backwards too much. My body is very unsupple, always has been, so any length of time away from regular yoga often makes a huge difference. But things seem to be okay. In fact, I found I got into positions I'd never been able to get into before - simply because I'd forgotten that I'd never been able to do them. I found myself in one position and then thought "hang on, I couldn't actually do this before..."
I've done a couple of classes since. My body feels completely different. More open and strong and I don't know why that is. Last Saturday I got into a headstand properly and held it for a minute without toppling. I've never been able to get into a headstand before, I've always positioned myself by a wall and flung my legs up onto the wall and then slowly, gingerly moved them away and tried to keep my balance. But this time I managed it. You have to have fairly strong stomach muscles to be able to get into the position - maybe all those stomach crunches have made a difference after all!
I was so excited by my progress (it only took seven years to do it!) that I told my older sister when I saw her later.
"I've done a headstand and I'm going to do a grasshopper next"
"What's that?" she asked.
I went to demonstrate it and got into the position. I could only hold it for about a second before I toppled backwards but I still did it. That meant two firsts in one day - result!
This is one of the things I love about yoga. I am constantly making progress but it is millimetre by millimetre. And for someone as impatient as me, I'm surprised that I don't get frustrated by my slow progress. But I know that is because my body can only do what it can do. If I try and force it into something it's not ready to do, I'll get hurt. For someone in such a hurry to get every where and do every thing, it's good to have something where I make gentle progress but it's always a huge sense of achievement!
Friday, 11 September 2009
My dad's operation
My dad had total knee replacement surgery a few weeks ago. He's 81 and it was the first time he'd ever stayed in hospital. He wasn't even born in a hospital so it must have been quite a strange experience for him. He came out a week later and is now recovering at home and hopefully he'll be fully recovered soon and able to resume normal life.
I'm not sure how my dad felt about going into hospital or having the operation. We don't talk emotions in my family, which is a little strange for me because I do. But the whole experience seems to have aged him about two decades so he now looks like the old man that he is, as opposed to the young whippersnapper that I always think of him of. It looks like he's shrunk and I'm wondering where his spirit is, I really just want him to be back to how he was before....
Watching your parents age in front of you is no easy thing. I remember last year when I was back from Ibiza for the Luxury Travel Fair, staying at my parents place. Me and my dad left the house at the same time and walked round towards the bus stop together. As we got to the zebra crossing his bus was coming so he ran to get the bus and as I crossed the road, I turned to watch him. It suddenly struck me that his shoulders were no longer straight, he was completely dipped on the right hand side because of his bad knee. A few months ago his knee was causing him so much pain he had to start walking using a walking stick. I think my dad must have found this really difficult as it's a sign of getting older and he's not into the ageing process. I remember the first time I saw him walk with that stick, I caught my breath - suddenly my dad looked like an old man.
I'm not sure how my dad's operation has affected anyone in the family, him included. All I know is how I've felt about it. The day my dad was having his operation I was flying up to Edinburgh for the night. At the back of my mind was the thought of how quickly I could get back if anything went wrong. Perhaps a better daughter wouldn't have gone at all and I found myself grappling with guilt but I went, staying in contact by phone before, during and after his operation. The thing that worried me was not the operation itself but his age. Does getting better get harder as you get older?
When I got back from Edinburgh the next day, my mum said "your dad's doing so much better already. They've taken his oxygen mask and drip off!" (obviously this would have been said in Urdu, she doesn't talk in English to me). When she said this, I realised going to Edinburgh was the best thing I could have done as if I'd been there the day of the op, I would have gone straight to the hospital and seeing my dad with an oxygen mask and drip would have hit me quite badly. I hate hospitals anyway, hate seeing people in pain or suffering. I remember when I was a kid and my dad still used to work evenings in Macey's chemist. One time when he was at work, someone came into the chemists to rob them I think. My dad got hit in the face and his glasses were broken. My mum told us what had happened and I went and hid in my room, sobbing all night about someone hurting my dad. I've never been a daddy's girl but I am very close to him, always have been.
I went to see my dad the day after I got back from Edinburgh. In my head, he'd be up in his bed all chipper and cheeky and joking with the nurses. What I saw was an old man who looked like he'd shrunk, he looked frail and feeble and vulnerable. He wasn't eating properly as he didn't like the hospital food - I didn't blame him, it looked pretty dreadful to me. I went with Rahila my older sister and as she's a doctor, she grilled the hospital staff on how my dad was doing. They told her that he'd taken a fall in the night. He'd failed to mention it to us himself. He'd got up in the night to use the bathroom and instead of calling someone to help him, my independent dad decided to go alone with his zimmer frame. Somewhere on the floor there was water and he slipped. I don't know how long he was there before someone found him but we had to tell him off for going alone in the first place. But I guess it must be hard for him. His whole life everyone has depended on him, relied on him and he never likes to ask for help. He's fiercely proud of everything he's achieved alone and asking for help doesn't seem to come naturally to him (I can see where I get it from then!)
I found that first visit to the hospital really difficult. For my dad hours lying in a hospital bed may make him think of his own mortality. Going to see him in hospital made me think of his mortality. I felt horribly strange afterwards, it's not something I like to think about. By chance I was seeing my friend Wilding after the hospital. Somehow, since moving back to London, Wilding has become one of my closest friends and he's one of the two friends I've seen the most since getting back. He was a good person to see because I knew I could say or feel anything with him, if I'd wanted to cry he wouldn't have got embarrassed or uncomfortable by my tears. This is progress for me as I'm usually so intensely private with my innermost feelings so good to know that I'm now more comfortable talking about things.
The next day I went to see my dad again. I still found the hospital visit difficult. I got home drained - in the words of the Manics "you're tender and you're tired". The week of my dad's operation I had nothing planned socially apart from the trip to Edinburgh. This was a good thing as I found things hard and I would have cancelled all social plans. As usual I didn't give any thought to how I might feel about this all but maybe there's no point doing that as one of the things I've really learnt about myself over the years is that I can't pre-empt how I'll be feeling about anything. I didn't expect to be knocked sideways as much as I was by seeing my dad in hospital. That evening I had two choices - stay home or get dragged out by Wilding for a drink. I went for the latter option - at least I knew that if I wanted to talk about stuff, I'd have someone who I felt really safe and comfortable with to talk to. As it was I was okay and we had fun, cooing over a puppy called Willis that the owners had brought to the bar with them. We must have been cooing a lot as they came over and plopped the puppy on my lap for a while and that was kind of cute and cheered me up no end.
On our way home (we live two streets away from each other), we stopped off at the chip shop. The chip shop is a couple of doors up from Macey Chemists where my dad used to work in the late 60s and early 70s. I got chatting to the chip shop owner and asked him how long he'd had that shop. Thirteen years he said. I then asked him if he knew my dad (my dad is pretty famous in Dulwich and Peckham). He did. I got excited that he knew my dad - it made me realise that my dad has this total other life as he wheels through Dulwich and Peckham that we know nothing about - I can imagine him in it but I've never seen it. I told the man about my dad's operation and I was touched when he asked me to pass on his best wishes to my dad, it seems like lots of other people care about my dad too.
Funnily enough, when I started this post I was feeling a bit wobbly about my dad (although he is doing much better and will soon be fully recovered). Now I feel a lot better - writing always seems to help so much. I guess I just need to capture somewhere what's going on inside. A few years ago when I had the launch party for my interiors business, I did a little speech and at the end, in front of about 250 people (mostly friends and close family) I did a very big thank you to my dad. He had no idea I was going to say what I said, nor did anyone else in that room. It was an emotional moment, not just for me but for everyone listening. I had people come up to me afterwards saying "I've always wanted to say what you've just said..." It was one of those goosebump, lump in the throat moments - I could barely talk at the end and had to quickly put a record on. But my dad has been amazing to me. He's allowed me to be the person I am, even if I've been doing things that the wider Pakistani community would frown upon. He's been on my side and supported me, even when he's been completely baffled by some of the things I've chosen to do, some of the paths I've merrily skipped along.
I remember when I was 16 I got a job in the Crown and Greyhound in Dulwich Village. You can probably guess by the name that it's a pub and I come from a good, respectable muslim family. I was working in the restaurant and not allowed to even serve an alcoholic drink as I was under-age but still, muslim girl working in a pub doesn't really go down too well. Naturally I kept the actual location of my workplace a secret from the family, just telling them that I had a job in a restaurant in Dulwich Village. One day my dad said he'd give me a lift to work. As we got into Dulwich Village, I said "you can drop me off here". He carried on driving and pulled up right outside the pub. It went quiet in the car and I waited for the bollocking. It never came. Instead my dad said to me "I know where you work and that's fine with me. But you know how the Pakistani community likes to talk so probably best to keep your work place quiet from everyone..." As Pakistani dads go (particularly as this was in the mid-eighties), this was pretty progressive, forward-thinking. I'm not sure why he's always given me the freedom to do what I've wanted. Maybe he saw that I would do it anyway so might as well support it instead of trying to control me. I've really lucked out with my dad and I will be eternally grateful for that. And now I'm just waiting for him to be better enough to start break dancing again!
I'm not sure how my dad felt about going into hospital or having the operation. We don't talk emotions in my family, which is a little strange for me because I do. But the whole experience seems to have aged him about two decades so he now looks like the old man that he is, as opposed to the young whippersnapper that I always think of him of. It looks like he's shrunk and I'm wondering where his spirit is, I really just want him to be back to how he was before....
Watching your parents age in front of you is no easy thing. I remember last year when I was back from Ibiza for the Luxury Travel Fair, staying at my parents place. Me and my dad left the house at the same time and walked round towards the bus stop together. As we got to the zebra crossing his bus was coming so he ran to get the bus and as I crossed the road, I turned to watch him. It suddenly struck me that his shoulders were no longer straight, he was completely dipped on the right hand side because of his bad knee. A few months ago his knee was causing him so much pain he had to start walking using a walking stick. I think my dad must have found this really difficult as it's a sign of getting older and he's not into the ageing process. I remember the first time I saw him walk with that stick, I caught my breath - suddenly my dad looked like an old man.
I'm not sure how my dad's operation has affected anyone in the family, him included. All I know is how I've felt about it. The day my dad was having his operation I was flying up to Edinburgh for the night. At the back of my mind was the thought of how quickly I could get back if anything went wrong. Perhaps a better daughter wouldn't have gone at all and I found myself grappling with guilt but I went, staying in contact by phone before, during and after his operation. The thing that worried me was not the operation itself but his age. Does getting better get harder as you get older?
When I got back from Edinburgh the next day, my mum said "your dad's doing so much better already. They've taken his oxygen mask and drip off!" (obviously this would have been said in Urdu, she doesn't talk in English to me). When she said this, I realised going to Edinburgh was the best thing I could have done as if I'd been there the day of the op, I would have gone straight to the hospital and seeing my dad with an oxygen mask and drip would have hit me quite badly. I hate hospitals anyway, hate seeing people in pain or suffering. I remember when I was a kid and my dad still used to work evenings in Macey's chemist. One time when he was at work, someone came into the chemists to rob them I think. My dad got hit in the face and his glasses were broken. My mum told us what had happened and I went and hid in my room, sobbing all night about someone hurting my dad. I've never been a daddy's girl but I am very close to him, always have been.
I went to see my dad the day after I got back from Edinburgh. In my head, he'd be up in his bed all chipper and cheeky and joking with the nurses. What I saw was an old man who looked like he'd shrunk, he looked frail and feeble and vulnerable. He wasn't eating properly as he didn't like the hospital food - I didn't blame him, it looked pretty dreadful to me. I went with Rahila my older sister and as she's a doctor, she grilled the hospital staff on how my dad was doing. They told her that he'd taken a fall in the night. He'd failed to mention it to us himself. He'd got up in the night to use the bathroom and instead of calling someone to help him, my independent dad decided to go alone with his zimmer frame. Somewhere on the floor there was water and he slipped. I don't know how long he was there before someone found him but we had to tell him off for going alone in the first place. But I guess it must be hard for him. His whole life everyone has depended on him, relied on him and he never likes to ask for help. He's fiercely proud of everything he's achieved alone and asking for help doesn't seem to come naturally to him (I can see where I get it from then!)
I found that first visit to the hospital really difficult. For my dad hours lying in a hospital bed may make him think of his own mortality. Going to see him in hospital made me think of his mortality. I felt horribly strange afterwards, it's not something I like to think about. By chance I was seeing my friend Wilding after the hospital. Somehow, since moving back to London, Wilding has become one of my closest friends and he's one of the two friends I've seen the most since getting back. He was a good person to see because I knew I could say or feel anything with him, if I'd wanted to cry he wouldn't have got embarrassed or uncomfortable by my tears. This is progress for me as I'm usually so intensely private with my innermost feelings so good to know that I'm now more comfortable talking about things.
The next day I went to see my dad again. I still found the hospital visit difficult. I got home drained - in the words of the Manics "you're tender and you're tired". The week of my dad's operation I had nothing planned socially apart from the trip to Edinburgh. This was a good thing as I found things hard and I would have cancelled all social plans. As usual I didn't give any thought to how I might feel about this all but maybe there's no point doing that as one of the things I've really learnt about myself over the years is that I can't pre-empt how I'll be feeling about anything. I didn't expect to be knocked sideways as much as I was by seeing my dad in hospital. That evening I had two choices - stay home or get dragged out by Wilding for a drink. I went for the latter option - at least I knew that if I wanted to talk about stuff, I'd have someone who I felt really safe and comfortable with to talk to. As it was I was okay and we had fun, cooing over a puppy called Willis that the owners had brought to the bar with them. We must have been cooing a lot as they came over and plopped the puppy on my lap for a while and that was kind of cute and cheered me up no end.
On our way home (we live two streets away from each other), we stopped off at the chip shop. The chip shop is a couple of doors up from Macey Chemists where my dad used to work in the late 60s and early 70s. I got chatting to the chip shop owner and asked him how long he'd had that shop. Thirteen years he said. I then asked him if he knew my dad (my dad is pretty famous in Dulwich and Peckham). He did. I got excited that he knew my dad - it made me realise that my dad has this total other life as he wheels through Dulwich and Peckham that we know nothing about - I can imagine him in it but I've never seen it. I told the man about my dad's operation and I was touched when he asked me to pass on his best wishes to my dad, it seems like lots of other people care about my dad too.
Funnily enough, when I started this post I was feeling a bit wobbly about my dad (although he is doing much better and will soon be fully recovered). Now I feel a lot better - writing always seems to help so much. I guess I just need to capture somewhere what's going on inside. A few years ago when I had the launch party for my interiors business, I did a little speech and at the end, in front of about 250 people (mostly friends and close family) I did a very big thank you to my dad. He had no idea I was going to say what I said, nor did anyone else in that room. It was an emotional moment, not just for me but for everyone listening. I had people come up to me afterwards saying "I've always wanted to say what you've just said..." It was one of those goosebump, lump in the throat moments - I could barely talk at the end and had to quickly put a record on. But my dad has been amazing to me. He's allowed me to be the person I am, even if I've been doing things that the wider Pakistani community would frown upon. He's been on my side and supported me, even when he's been completely baffled by some of the things I've chosen to do, some of the paths I've merrily skipped along.
I remember when I was 16 I got a job in the Crown and Greyhound in Dulwich Village. You can probably guess by the name that it's a pub and I come from a good, respectable muslim family. I was working in the restaurant and not allowed to even serve an alcoholic drink as I was under-age but still, muslim girl working in a pub doesn't really go down too well. Naturally I kept the actual location of my workplace a secret from the family, just telling them that I had a job in a restaurant in Dulwich Village. One day my dad said he'd give me a lift to work. As we got into Dulwich Village, I said "you can drop me off here". He carried on driving and pulled up right outside the pub. It went quiet in the car and I waited for the bollocking. It never came. Instead my dad said to me "I know where you work and that's fine with me. But you know how the Pakistani community likes to talk so probably best to keep your work place quiet from everyone..." As Pakistani dads go (particularly as this was in the mid-eighties), this was pretty progressive, forward-thinking. I'm not sure why he's always given me the freedom to do what I've wanted. Maybe he saw that I would do it anyway so might as well support it instead of trying to control me. I've really lucked out with my dad and I will be eternally grateful for that. And now I'm just waiting for him to be better enough to start break dancing again!
Monday, 20 July 2009
My parents and Arbonne....
As I'm still staying at my parents place in Dulwich, they've watched my little fledgling enterprise get started. On their part, this has consisted of taking the deliveries of my stuff and watching it take over the reception room that I've turned into my makeshift office.
I was trying to get them to use the products and tried talking my dad into using the eye cream. Even though he's 81, he still likes to feel like a young whippersnapper, still puts Grecian 2000 into his hair (although there isn't actually much hair left) and still dresses like a dapper gent. I thought he'd be into using a cream that helped get rid of the lines around his eyes but he told me that he doesn't use anything and that was the end of that.
Then the other day, I was sat on the bus next to my mum and she saw me get out the Arbonne handcream and put that on. She smelt it and commented on how lovely it smelt. I told her I'd give her one of the mini samples of hand cream I had at home.
After this, my dad asked me how this whole business worked. When I explained that all the products I had were samples, not for sale, and that I introduced the range to people by getting them to try the products for a few days, he looked interested. Later he came into my "office" and loitered without saying much. This is his way of telling you that he wants to talk. And he said, "well if everyone is trying these products, I'll try them too!" I laughed, my dad has never been into products. So I'm going to give him an eye cream and the body serum to use on his feet to keep the skin soft. He looked very pleased with himself when he wandered out of the room.
A minute later, my mum came bustling in asking for her hand cream. I got one out and gave it to her. She opened it, smelt it and then said "can I use this on my face too?" She, also, has never been into skin care products. I explained that it was only for hands and there was another cream for the face that I'd get for her. I think they're rather excited about these lovely new products coming their way. If they like them, I'll just carry on buying them for them, they would never pay that much themselves. I was thinking about it the other day and it made me chuckle, I could just see my dad saying with immense pride "I'm a bargain hunter!". In his world you'd never pay £25 for a cream when you can buy a cream for £1 in Lidl or Netto, even if they are a world apart in quality. Or even better, I could see him saying "I'm a pharmacist, I recognise these ingredients, I can make this myself!" and then he'd be off on some tangent about starting his new skin care business, making products using the recipes from my products....
I was trying to get them to use the products and tried talking my dad into using the eye cream. Even though he's 81, he still likes to feel like a young whippersnapper, still puts Grecian 2000 into his hair (although there isn't actually much hair left) and still dresses like a dapper gent. I thought he'd be into using a cream that helped get rid of the lines around his eyes but he told me that he doesn't use anything and that was the end of that.
Then the other day, I was sat on the bus next to my mum and she saw me get out the Arbonne handcream and put that on. She smelt it and commented on how lovely it smelt. I told her I'd give her one of the mini samples of hand cream I had at home.
After this, my dad asked me how this whole business worked. When I explained that all the products I had were samples, not for sale, and that I introduced the range to people by getting them to try the products for a few days, he looked interested. Later he came into my "office" and loitered without saying much. This is his way of telling you that he wants to talk. And he said, "well if everyone is trying these products, I'll try them too!" I laughed, my dad has never been into products. So I'm going to give him an eye cream and the body serum to use on his feet to keep the skin soft. He looked very pleased with himself when he wandered out of the room.
A minute later, my mum came bustling in asking for her hand cream. I got one out and gave it to her. She opened it, smelt it and then said "can I use this on my face too?" She, also, has never been into skin care products. I explained that it was only for hands and there was another cream for the face that I'd get for her. I think they're rather excited about these lovely new products coming their way. If they like them, I'll just carry on buying them for them, they would never pay that much themselves. I was thinking about it the other day and it made me chuckle, I could just see my dad saying with immense pride "I'm a bargain hunter!". In his world you'd never pay £25 for a cream when you can buy a cream for £1 in Lidl or Netto, even if they are a world apart in quality. Or even better, I could see him saying "I'm a pharmacist, I recognise these ingredients, I can make this myself!" and then he'd be off on some tangent about starting his new skin care business, making products using the recipes from my products....
Sleep....
It's nearly 3 in the morning and I've been awake for at least half an hour, maybe longer. I only went to bed at midnight so there's no way I've had enough sleep. The chances of nodding off again at the moment are pretty slim so that's why I'm blogging from bed and doing something I absolutely love - listening to some of my favourite songs on the iPod in bed! This activity will do nothing to help me get back to sleep as I get so excited doing it that I usually end up dancing (or doing a little jig) in bed, instead of trying to lull myself to sleep.
I know why I'm awake so early, it's all to do with adrenaline. In a way, it's a good sign as it means my dodgy adrenals are working well for the time being. It does however mean that any hint of excitement in my life and I'm like Tigger on an overdose of coffee, literally bouncing around all over the place. And waking up very early although this is a record. Normally it's around four in the morning. After a few months of life feeling a bit strange, I think the tide has turned and it feels brilliant! I'm excited about the new Arbonne business and am just getting on with it. I'm off to Camp Bestival in a few days and that feels like the homecoming after Ibiza. I've not been out properly since my return, not seen a lot of people so Camp Bestival is going to be the first time for me! There are a few other things bubbling away as possibilities but I'm keeping quiet about them for the time being - it could be just too much for me to cope with!
I have no idea how long the adrenaline surge will last. I need to remember to stop drinking coffee as that makes me worse when I'm like this. I just hope I don't keep waking up after a few hours sleep the rest of this week - I don't want to rock up to Camp Bestival and then burn out on my first night. I also don't want to have big dark circles under my eyes. The Arbonne eye cream is a miracle cure for dark circles but even that can't help me at present - I've been waking up very early a lot recently.
I know why I'm awake so early, it's all to do with adrenaline. In a way, it's a good sign as it means my dodgy adrenals are working well for the time being. It does however mean that any hint of excitement in my life and I'm like Tigger on an overdose of coffee, literally bouncing around all over the place. And waking up very early although this is a record. Normally it's around four in the morning. After a few months of life feeling a bit strange, I think the tide has turned and it feels brilliant! I'm excited about the new Arbonne business and am just getting on with it. I'm off to Camp Bestival in a few days and that feels like the homecoming after Ibiza. I've not been out properly since my return, not seen a lot of people so Camp Bestival is going to be the first time for me! There are a few other things bubbling away as possibilities but I'm keeping quiet about them for the time being - it could be just too much for me to cope with!
I have no idea how long the adrenaline surge will last. I need to remember to stop drinking coffee as that makes me worse when I'm like this. I just hope I don't keep waking up after a few hours sleep the rest of this week - I don't want to rock up to Camp Bestival and then burn out on my first night. I also don't want to have big dark circles under my eyes. The Arbonne eye cream is a miracle cure for dark circles but even that can't help me at present - I've been waking up very early a lot recently.
Sunday, 19 July 2009
What Azra did next...
Wow, it's been over two months since my last post. The longest I'd ever left if before was about three weeks so that's quite a gap. A lot has happened in that time so guess I'll jot in down here...
In my last post I talked about my desire to write a novel. I've finished my creative writing course and to be honest it was not very good. That may just have been the teacher but I didn't feel like I learnt anything and certainly not how to write creatively. Maybe I just can't write fiction, everything I wrote was based on my own personal experiences. I had really hoped to learn how to put together compelling stories and plots and create characters but I feel no closer to this than when I first started. However, this much I know - I'm not creative unless I'm feeling fairly happy in my life and as the last few months have been full of uncertainty, the atmosphere has not been conducive to creating anything. I haven't given up on the writing, maybe I can write fiction in different circumstances but at present, nothing is coming. Or it may be that I can only write based on personal experience and I'm just not ready to do a memoir-style thing (and nor do I want to). I'll give it another go later!
I also spoke about having no idea what my life was going to be like in London again. I certainly didn't expect to be doing what I've started doing but then I never do the expected, whatever that may be. I've just set up another business, this time a botanically-based skin care business. I always thought that if I set up another business, I'd do products as opposed to a service that I offer. The problem with a service is that you're capped on what you can earn, you can't duplicate yourself or work more hours than there are in the day and you get to a point and then get stuck. I've spoken to other freelance people and many of them echo this very same thing.
The products are from a company called Arbonne, Swiss-formulated and made in the States. The products were launched in the UK in November 2007 and will never be found in retail outlets so it's up to Consultants like me to spread the good word (and they are amazing!). They are chemical-free, paraben-free and don't contain any animal by-products (the collagen that is put into cosmetics and skin care to plump things up is made from chicken's feet - yuk!). It's all happened very unexpectedly and it's been a steep learning curve taking in all this new information, particularly detailed information about the skin care industry.
Now that I've got started and am on my way, I'm pretty excited about this. However, there was a point about two weeks ago when it felt like a petulant child had a raging tantrum in my head. For two days. At one point it got so bad I had to go for a run to try and get rid of it! I've always pushed myself, had high expectations (sometimes too high and it can be a pain as no-one else has any expectations of me) and followed my heart, usually making brave bold moves that others would perhaps think about for 5 seconds and then leave, the prospect of that leap being too much to fathom. Well, I'm the person who would always make that leap, go for the thing that no-one would do! That's what happens when you follow your heart, you end up doing crazy things as it feels right and you have no other way of making decisions as you've always followed your heart, always done what feels right, even if it seems totally bonkers!
This decision was not based on anything going on in my heart, I didn't have any sort of feeling about it apart from "well nothing else has fallen into place so far, lets give it a go...". But once I did, my petulant child raged, tormenting myself about making a decision to do something that anyone could do - for all intents and purposes, anyone could set up an Arbonne business. There's a formula that you follow, you feel like a sheep and at times it has felt like the blind leading the blind. There are certain aspects I have not been impressed with but that's made me determined to do it better myself, particularly when putting together my own team. Anyway, I let the child rage for 2 days and then came to terms with why I had made this decision - I've led an amazing life, had fantastic experiences and done more so far than some people will do in their lifetime. But at no point did I ever think of financial security or stability - that's all far too sensible for me and I figured it would just happen (I think I always thought I would marry it which in itself it quite a scary prospect....). So apart from buying a flat when properties were still dirt cheap, I have no financial security at all. If I don't work there is no money - I may have done amazing things but I haven't built anything to carry on earning, even when I'm doing something else!
So, that's what Arbonne is about for me. I've set some new goals - I'd like a house in London and a house in Ibiza. I assumed that these things would come into my life along with a husband so I never made them personal goals. Regardless of what happens in my private life, if having a house is important (and it is), then I need to find some way of making it happen! Onwards and upwards!
I feel like I can come out of my enforced hibernation now. Well I have to in order to start spreading the Arbonne word! I've hidden away the last few months, I'm like that when I'm not sure what's going on. I've seen a couple of very good friends regularly and they have kept me feeling chipper during the past few months! I'm going to blog more, particularly as I think it will be a good way to chart my Arbonne progress and success!
In my last post I talked about my desire to write a novel. I've finished my creative writing course and to be honest it was not very good. That may just have been the teacher but I didn't feel like I learnt anything and certainly not how to write creatively. Maybe I just can't write fiction, everything I wrote was based on my own personal experiences. I had really hoped to learn how to put together compelling stories and plots and create characters but I feel no closer to this than when I first started. However, this much I know - I'm not creative unless I'm feeling fairly happy in my life and as the last few months have been full of uncertainty, the atmosphere has not been conducive to creating anything. I haven't given up on the writing, maybe I can write fiction in different circumstances but at present, nothing is coming. Or it may be that I can only write based on personal experience and I'm just not ready to do a memoir-style thing (and nor do I want to). I'll give it another go later!
I also spoke about having no idea what my life was going to be like in London again. I certainly didn't expect to be doing what I've started doing but then I never do the expected, whatever that may be. I've just set up another business, this time a botanically-based skin care business. I always thought that if I set up another business, I'd do products as opposed to a service that I offer. The problem with a service is that you're capped on what you can earn, you can't duplicate yourself or work more hours than there are in the day and you get to a point and then get stuck. I've spoken to other freelance people and many of them echo this very same thing.
The products are from a company called Arbonne, Swiss-formulated and made in the States. The products were launched in the UK in November 2007 and will never be found in retail outlets so it's up to Consultants like me to spread the good word (and they are amazing!). They are chemical-free, paraben-free and don't contain any animal by-products (the collagen that is put into cosmetics and skin care to plump things up is made from chicken's feet - yuk!). It's all happened very unexpectedly and it's been a steep learning curve taking in all this new information, particularly detailed information about the skin care industry.
Now that I've got started and am on my way, I'm pretty excited about this. However, there was a point about two weeks ago when it felt like a petulant child had a raging tantrum in my head. For two days. At one point it got so bad I had to go for a run to try and get rid of it! I've always pushed myself, had high expectations (sometimes too high and it can be a pain as no-one else has any expectations of me) and followed my heart, usually making brave bold moves that others would perhaps think about for 5 seconds and then leave, the prospect of that leap being too much to fathom. Well, I'm the person who would always make that leap, go for the thing that no-one would do! That's what happens when you follow your heart, you end up doing crazy things as it feels right and you have no other way of making decisions as you've always followed your heart, always done what feels right, even if it seems totally bonkers!
This decision was not based on anything going on in my heart, I didn't have any sort of feeling about it apart from "well nothing else has fallen into place so far, lets give it a go...". But once I did, my petulant child raged, tormenting myself about making a decision to do something that anyone could do - for all intents and purposes, anyone could set up an Arbonne business. There's a formula that you follow, you feel like a sheep and at times it has felt like the blind leading the blind. There are certain aspects I have not been impressed with but that's made me determined to do it better myself, particularly when putting together my own team. Anyway, I let the child rage for 2 days and then came to terms with why I had made this decision - I've led an amazing life, had fantastic experiences and done more so far than some people will do in their lifetime. But at no point did I ever think of financial security or stability - that's all far too sensible for me and I figured it would just happen (I think I always thought I would marry it which in itself it quite a scary prospect....). So apart from buying a flat when properties were still dirt cheap, I have no financial security at all. If I don't work there is no money - I may have done amazing things but I haven't built anything to carry on earning, even when I'm doing something else!
So, that's what Arbonne is about for me. I've set some new goals - I'd like a house in London and a house in Ibiza. I assumed that these things would come into my life along with a husband so I never made them personal goals. Regardless of what happens in my private life, if having a house is important (and it is), then I need to find some way of making it happen! Onwards and upwards!
I feel like I can come out of my enforced hibernation now. Well I have to in order to start spreading the Arbonne word! I've hidden away the last few months, I'm like that when I'm not sure what's going on. I've seen a couple of very good friends regularly and they have kept me feeling chipper during the past few months! I'm going to blog more, particularly as I think it will be a good way to chart my Arbonne progress and success!
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