courting a career change.

Have you ever felt a gaping void within you? A void created because you were dissatisfied with or enervated by your job or line of work?

The past few months (especially the last) have been pretty eventful. Perhaps the most of my life.

For one thing, I was fired.

*pause for dramatic effect*

I enjoy observing people's reaction to that statement. In actuality, my company was winding down and I was let go along with all my colleagues a few months ago.While serving my notice period, I gave some serious thought to what to do next. Was social media marketing what I really wanted to do until the Next Big Thing came along, whatever that was? Hark! An epiphany! No, it wasn't. I realized then how crucial it was for a person to have goals. At the time, I had none. No purpose, no direction. What would I do if not continue pursuing a career in marketing (my major), I wondered while listlessly browsing bayt.com for job openings that fitted my profile.

The fact remained that I no longer cared for marketing, commercialism or the corporate world, and felt far removed from them all. It isn't in me to spend over 8 hours shackled to an office desk doing something I'm not interested in; thankfully, I'm not in dire financial straits or family obligations because of which I'd have to. I learnt a ton of stuff from my awesome manager and colleagues and gained an incredible amount of exposure and insight into the inner workings of the industry, but it was time to move on to another field. What I really wanted to do was take a break from working (yes, I had been working only for a year and a half and had travelled several times in that duration) and retreat into a shack on some God forsaken island and write. I could write but I am nothing if not realistic and brutally honest with myself: writing wasn't going to get me very far, especially considering how underdeveloped my skills are, and it wasn't going to help me sustain myself financially.

I needed to find an alternate career when my notice period ended, but came up blank. I was plagued by insouciance and cared about nothing. I felt my mind wasting away which frustrated me beyond measure.

It was in the midst of all the uncertainty that my life is so often afflicted with that I was asked, "since you love grammar so much, why don't you get paid for it?"

And that's how I stumbled upon the CELTA*.

*Certificate in English Language Teaching to Adults. More to come in upcoming posts.

Tedx Safat, Kuwait: Ideas Worth Spreading.. indeed!

I wasn't supposed to be attending Wednesday night's Tedx Safat Conference. But I did and it was awesome.
I'd received no reply when I emailed to ask if the event was going to be held in English. My friend Sahar (who blogs about her experiences in Kuwait on Eternal Joie de Vivre, go check her out!) found out that it was. Problem solved.

Thank God I emailed, because apparently you had to pre-register. An event organizer asked for our names to tick off a list and I thought with a sinking feeling that I wouldn't be able to sit for it. But it was there!! *fist in the air* (awful rhyming was unintentional, my apologies)

And what did I think? Read on for a succinct account on what each speaker communicated. Words in italics are their words (or close), not mine.

We walked in and found seats just in time to see the first speaker, Dr. Saad Hamad Al Barrak take the stage and start his speech on 'Leading Change', the essence of which was that the purpose of leadership is to impact change. He explained this concept through John P. Kotter's change model below.

I loved his definition on delegation, 'it is nothing but a loan of a power of authority'. An illusion of power if you will.

Dr. Ghanim Alnajjar was the UN Independent Expert on Human Rights in Somalia, appointed by former UN Secretary General Kofi Anan. He specified that without equality there was no stability and that might and right are never too often on the same side. Seeing the destitution and war-torn lands one wonders, do we live in the same world? The UN did not allow its people to travel by cars in parts of Somalia; the areas were so dangerous and riddled with land mines that workers actually had to use small planes! Tragically the situation in Somalia is far from light, with 300,000 Somalians internally displaced and living in camps.

Sulayman Al-Bassam blew me over. A world-renowned playwright, he tries to foster open-mindedness through his plays. He brought to light the fact that people prefer to express in English, fearing to do so in their native tongue. In 2003, when Iraq was invaded, there were mixed feelings of joy and trepidation in the region - joy at the attempt to overthrow a dictator and trepidation because, well, war is a terrible thing.
He wrote and directed a play in Kuwait at that time, casting Kuwaiti, Iraqi, British and American actors, in an attempt to promote kindred feelings amongst people and put the torrid past behind them. A terrible thing happened on opening night - one of the Kuwaiti actors suddenly died of natural causes backstage while the performance was going on. A member of the audience somehow got wind of the death and announced on stage that the Iraqi actors had 'killed our compatriot'. A ripple of shock went through the audience (the TEDx one) as Sulayman made his point, that in less than a minute, the man had poisoned the idea that we were trying to promote. It was a lesson on how difficult it was to change a society. Questions we ask through our art should help support an open society.

Hussaa Al Humaidhi was a ball of energy! Her fantastic slide show was perfectly synchronized and well coordinated with her speech and the message she wanted to deliver. Her presentation was titled From Frustration to Collaboration to Inspiration (Connecting the Dots). The 'dots' were represented by four creative individuals (in her speech as well as on the slide) frustrated (frustration occurring 'when things are out of your control') with the lack of inspiration in Kuwait, travelled to different countries to find it. They then decided to take matters into their own hands and here's where the collaboration comes in. They founded Nuqat, meaning dots in Arabic, an organization that offers individuals the chance to bring out creativity within the region, taking care of the inspiration factor. They realized too many young designers in the Middle East were uninspired and just mimicking the West. With Nuqat, these entrepreneurs want to encourage designers and other creative individuals remain to true to their Arab identity and find that spark here. She signed off with the well-known and extremely apt quote: Never wait for inspiration, hunt it down with a stick!

Sheikha Intisar Salem Al Ali Al Sabah founded and runs a publishing house. At a bookstore in a neighbouring Gulf country, she noticed the store had books on most countries of the Middle East... except Kuwait. So, she set out to write one! She interviewed Kuwaitis that had made a real difference in the country and through their passion, found her inspiration. She described their contribution in a slideshow while quoting each of them.

I liked the way Mrs. Maha Al-Ghunaim (founder and MD of Global Investment House) began her speech, by stating quite frankly that she moved to the States for Bachelors in Engineering, because it seemed right, as her siblings were engineers. A year later she switched her major to mathematics because she loved it and hated engineering. Move where your passion is. After completing her degree, she moved back to Kuwait in August to look for work. An HR manager of an elite investment firm told her to go on vacation to Switzerland with her parents and that they didn't hire women (scumbag company). Twelve years later, I became the boss of his boss. YEAH!! *round of applause*
She ended saying something simple and profound that I've pondered on a lot in the past two days, and I hope I never forget it. At the end of each day, think, 'did I give it my all?' Give the best you can be at that point to everything and do it regularly. She ended with the quote: Giving it your all, is not too far from victory.

We left then, her words echoing in my head.
Actually, they still are.

I hope someone uploads the videos on youtube, I'd love to hear Sulayman Al Bassam's speech again as well as the last two we missed by Dr. Ahmad BouShehri and Khaled Al-Kulaib. Kudos to Dana Al-Hilal and her team for a wonderful event and the fantastic choice of speakers. I was completely unaware as to the brilliance of these people. The message each one of them gave, especially the latter ones has touched me differently. Why do we need to look to world famous, far removed personalities for motivation when we have very worthy ones right here?


Note: I tried to get their words down verbatim but it wasn't possible for all. If any of the above mentioned ever read this (hey it could happen) and feel I got the wrong idea, I am profusely sorry, I was lost in your awesomeness : (

(If you'd like to see pictures, check out the ones by The Dusty Co. here)

home is where the luggage is.

I thought Pune was home.
It ceased to be.
Not just because I moved back to Kuwait.
It seemed distant this time. It's exhausting living in a city where the people lack any consideration for other human beings and where you have to be on your guard consistently 'coz you will encounter some moron or the other who WILL try to fleece you. It wearies one.

I love Bombay. I love my family and cousins. But Bombay is more foreign to me than ever, with its shallow and materialistic lifestyle. I don't care for the damn designer clothes and shoes or the 'branded' crap. I don't drink, I abhor loud noises and mainstream music so a pub is the last place you'll see me in. I've stopped watching Hindi movies. I don't follow Bollywood or Hollywood gossip and muse on who slept with who. I feel a deep disgust for Indian television and despair at how self-absorbed Bombaiytes are and at their money is God attitude. I write, I read and my renewed passion in these has made me an alien there.
The freedom there, is what I miss.

Even though I lived most of my life here in Kuwait, it was never home. I could never call it that except when saying stuff like, 'I wanna go home and crash.' NRIs love the comfort, low gas prices and tax free income of the Gulf and quite a few of them could never adapt to India again. But a place that doesn't accept you is not a place you could call your own.

So.. where the hell is home?

I wonder now, am I a third culture kid (TCK)?
Wiki defines a TCK as 'someone who, as a child, has spent a significant period of time in one or more culture(s) other than his or her own, thus integrating elements of those cultures and their own birth culture, into a third culture.'

Oh yeah. Fosho. Definitely closer to that than anything else.
At 5 months, I flew way before I took my first step.

Third culture kids aren't supposed to fit in anywhere. But they are very open to different cultures. Sure, I got that. I love meeting people from diverse backgrounds and expanding my awareness about their cultures and traditions.

TCKs are also multilingual. Er. No.
Having lived in Kuwait I'm supposed to speak Arabic. I'm ashamed to say I don't. I can fathom just a bit.
Again, having lived in Pune I'm supposed to atleast understand basic Marathi. I don't.
The only couple of words I bothered to learn is 'shut up', 'stop' and 'idiot' (you may roll your eyes, but they were pretty handy). I know a hell lot more Japanese watching anime than I know Marathi. I picked up and spoke more Czech in my two week visit to the CR than I ever did Arabic in all these years.
French? I'm glad I still remember quite a bit of French from school.
Hindi you ask? My dad is from Hyderabad and the mother from Bombay originally from a region called Kutch in Gujarat so the dialect I speak is a bit.. strange. Hyderabadis speak Urdu (based on Hindi structure, with words from Arabic and Farsi) in a manner no one else does, honing a drawl while they speak, stretching out the words. I disowned the accent and developed my own, based on the mother's and her family's. My grammar foundation though is not strong. Back in college, even if I attempted a conversation with my friends in their Hindi, my Urdu-Hindi whatever, some pronunciations, due to my linguistic background were different. My friends found it a scream.
They're darn tootin' lucky I never laughed at their English.

So much for multilingual. I only seem to have a knowledge of languages that have so far been of no real use to me. But for English.

People generally have a place they chill out at. Like the mall, a cafe maybe a pub. The only place I can admit going to regularly is the airport. Any airport. I don't seem to have gone anywhere else more often than once. Except the bookstore, but then I interned there.

So maybe I am a TCK, atleast partly.
Nursing the incurable bite the travel bug left me with, I desperately want to travel more. It's just been about two weeks since I got back and I'm already planning a trip in my head which, most probably, will just stay in my head. Maybe it's 'coz I can't seem to connect to any place anymore and I want to find it. It would be nice to feel a sense of belonging to something more than your AT suitcases. The sister doesn't even bother unpacking anymore. She's the first one to finish packing every damn time; all she has to do is zip up her bags.

So after some retrospection, I have come to a conclusion.

I am a nomad.

I have no home. But I prefer to think I just haven't found it just yet.

Have you?

awaiting the next bestseller from Rajaa Alsanea

So I just finished Girls of Riyadh, a book I'd been dying to get my hands on ever since I read about the storm that broke when it was first published in Arabic years ago. And how gleeful I was when the English translation came out!

The Girls of Riyadh concentrates on the lives of four girls, who are like girls anywhere. They love shopping, dressing up, watching movies, gossip. They dream of true love, to live a life of security and respect, striking a balance with religion and modernity.

I must say though I thoroughly enjoyed the book, it was a bit exhausting to read about all the different guys taking the girls for a ride. You'd think all men were spineless bimbos. Why waste a woman's time when you know she doesn't fit your mother's criteria and you don't have the guts (I want to use a much stronger, more profane word but I shall refrain from it) to change the maternal mind? Why let a girl dream and raise her hopes when you only intend to bring them crashing down by being unable to offer her what she wants? Let live dammit!

What I really liked about the book were the little tidbits of Arab culture and language. I think it's important to learn something however small, from a book or a movie. Each chapter of the book begins with an enlightening quote varying from Arab singers and poets, televangelists, English writers, the Quran..

Did I forget to mention the book has a very Gossip Girl like feel to it (or the other way around I suppose since the it was first published in Arabic in 2005 and Gossip Girl is, as of now, just a little over 3 seasons old)? The story of the four girls is narrated through a series of weekly emails forwarded by their young friend(unknown to the reader) to every Saudi address she can find. And did I mention that these four girls are of the 'velvet' class of society? So reminiscent of the Upper East Side.

The book did a good job bringing to light that the prevailing psyche of the ultraconservative society doesn't necessarily reflect what Islam preaches . The dialogue however, could have been better. Or maybe it just doesn't have the same effect in English as it probably does in Arabic. The narrative description more than makes up for it. Especially the emotional upheavals and the bits about women eying other women and their attire jealously, tongues on the ready to slander. ('Women don't pretty themselves up for men: they do it to get back at other women.' - Sacha Guitry xD)

I'll end with a poem by Nizar Qabbani from the book:

If only I had known how very dangerous love was,

I wouldn't have loved

If only I had known how deep the sea was,

I wouldn't have set sail.

If only I had known my very own ending,

I wouldn't have begun.