New bench, I love you

Our new balcony bench. How beautiful is it?
In a city where barker lounges are still cool, a furniture and wood lover needs a little trick to make home, well, home. This is from one of my favourite place in Delhi. It seems to be the 'source of the Nile' (as my dad calls it) for all the antique furniture shops around the world.

DO NOT SPIT

Spitting.
I never thought this topic would be of any interest to me. But, here I am thinking about it. Where does the need to spit come from? Do the plants need watering? Do the roads look too dry? Is there a bad taste in your mouth? Are you just angry? Would I also spit constantly if I didn't think it was un-lady like and gross?

People spit in India. They spit freely, and with surprisingly accurate aim. They spit out the window of their cars, they spit at the bus stop, they spit on do not spit signs, I assume they spit in their homes, possibly in a designated spittoon, they spit next to each others feet, they spit and they spit and they spit as if it were a contest of who could spit the most over a life time.

Most of the spitting seems to happen while chewing paan. I have had paan. The non tobacco kind, and it is pretty nice. Sweet. And it keeps the mouth occupied, maybe preventing bad conversation. But to my surprise, I am not a spitter of paan, I am a swollower. I just could not bring myself to do it. I could not publicly spit. Because, I am a lady.

Sam on the other hand is not a lady. He freely spat his paan all over the place for my photographing pleasure.

What is paan made of? Find out here.

Have you seen my cool?

It's official.
I have lost my cool.

You'll ask: How the hell do you misplace such an important thing, where could it have gone?
And I'll tell you: It was easy and It's probably in the same place as all my bobby pins and socks.

It could have all been prevented if I had just not stepped off the plane on the 15th of Jan 2009. I could have just stayed on the plane and gone somewhere else. But at that point, I never thought I could be so careless.

So anyway, here I am 6 months later and I look at myself in the mirror and I can see behind my eyes, there is no more cool. There is only heat.
Who the hell am I? I don't raise my voice. I don't demand things. I don't crap on people.
Well, I never used to. Now I do it all the time.
All of you who know me, imagine I get in a taxi in South Africa and the driver doesn't know where my destination is. I flip out. My voice is raised, my face is red, I'm threatening to take the cab company to the consumer court. I'm giving it to this guy like he has never had it before. Behaviour to make my parents proud.

I'm not trying to make excuses, but Dehli is an aggressive city. It has one of the most extreme climates (below 3 degrees to above 45 degrees) and historically it was the first place to be invaded every time India was at war. These things and I'm sure others have given it a really hard edge.
So I jumped on the band wagon. I got aggressive. I got angry. I got furious. After exercising my virgin vocal chords for a few months, I realised that I had raced way ahead of the band wagon. Delhi is not furious or angry. It just knows what it wants and it does whatever it wants, which is pretty admirable. So unlike me, Delhi has a cool heat.

Now I am stuck with a heat I want less of and a lost cool. I've tried yoga, I've tried swimming, I've tried meditation. Still no cool.

So I ask again. Anyone seen my cool?

Mix colour with a heap of amazing...

DIR 69.

Being on your own in Delhi with nothing to do is the best way to discover new things.

One Wednesday morning, while losing myself in wondering around, I noticed a small display cabinet at the bottom of a tiny staircase. What had caught my eye was one of the most unique, exciting, outrageous handbags that had ever caught my eye.
My heart skipped a beat.
Trying to control the pace of my breathing I walked up the staircase and entered an explosion of perfectly matched vibrant patterns and colour. I knew I was in trouble.

Every bag and piece of clothing looked like something I imagine coming out of Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland. Amazing, beautiful, wild.
I tried on everything that fit me.

Tanu, (the owner and designer) puts together material, patterns and colour in a way that is truly cool, and when putting on one of her garments, you feel like you are meeting a new friend - a friend who is going to show you that you’ve never really had fun before right now.

If you love colour and personality in your wardrobe this is the place for you.
If you’re a ‘charcoal is the new black’ kinda gal, you need to visit DIR 69 and get educated.

DIR 69 can be found in Hauz Khas village. If you walk past The Living Room on your right you will almost get to the end of the road and on your left there is a colourful sign and the tiny staircase.

cutting key craft

Keys are still cut by hand in Gurgaon.

ayee ayeeeeee ah! Holler man.

This video was taken at 8am on the road outside my apartment.
This guy is selling something, I'm still trying to figure out what...
He sings/shouts/calls/hollers/?!?!?!?!?!? to let everyone know he is there.
Notice how he turns around to do another lap.