Farewell to everything and everyone

The journey continues...

I really don’t how to begin to write this week’s journal, honestly. But somehow there is a need for me to go on writing my discovery and experience. I hope it is not too much to say that I am having a writer’s block these days even though I am not a writer. There’s so much things to write but I don’t know how to begin. I wanted to write an opinion letter to Malaysiakini´s letter forum but I seems to have problem and time to piece it all together. Nevermind.

Last week when I came back from New Delhi trips and travelling, Omar’s mum was in town and she cooked us a very delicious meals. I felt like a welcoming back party thrown for me but I think for now, I better think it is merely coincidence. His mum is French and the name is Aida. So, most of the meals Aida cooked that night was French temptation and some Egyptian foods. Big pot of Pasta and Spaghetti, mix salads, salty white gravy, bread rolls, wine and beers. As usual, the candle light dinner was held in our chilling roofless balcony. The cushion lying dead on the floor while the candled was being lighted. The sky was completely clear with Ernie Smith’s jazz was played in the air and all the delicacies were patiently waited to be attack by the invited diners.

Among the hungry diners was Wim, Mario, a Canadian journalist that Aida met in German bakery, Erin, DJ Sharifi, Meike and all the inhabitants of A20 namely me, Thomas the Germans football hooligan, Omar the fucking pyramid, Marielle the dutch (Frances McDormand), David the camera man, Bernard the weirdo a.k.a Jack Nicholson, Nills the big guy and Anna the Halena Bonham Carter.

Right now, I am writing this journal with a cup of Greek coffee (prepared by Anna’s mum who happens to be visiting India) and my new music collection (Brazil Acoustic CD).


Happy ValenFuckin´tine Day

On the Friday night, we were having a party at A20. The party was “A Valentine Day Party” with the theme: “Love is in the air”. It was wholeheartedly and enthusiastically organize by the self appointed “LoveTeam” comprise only two members, which is Marielle and Meike. The rest of A20 mates were just a helper especially in the area of recording, musics, decoration, shifting the furniture etc.

Nills the big guy’s bed in the living room was shifted to the room, in order to have more space for the party. The wall on both sides was covered by big pieces of red colour soft linen. The red linen was up, stick against the wall, with a decorated words of the party’s theme. The other wall had a huge pink colour manila card up against the wall, for the invited guest to put up their love messages, with the red colour stick-on memo pad and red colour parker pen. Marielle prepared a big pot of alcoholic fruit cocktail. It was a slice of watermelons mix with one bottle of vodka. At first it seems strange to me but it end up tasted great. The sweetness from the juicy of the watermelon and the heat and bitterness of Vodka drowning through my throat and straight to my heart. It really kills. The watermelon vodka was accompanied by a bowl of chocolates, lots of chips and lots of junks.

I contributed quite a lot of creative love messages on the wall which some of the memos got stolen (perhaps because of its creativity) and some of them caused comedic and cynical laughs by the invited guest. As far as I can remember, some of the love messages were “Love me for 5 rupees only”, “Love me two times by Jim Morrison”, Love sucks”, “Love require man to go for broke”, “Today I fall in love with you, tomorrow I fall out of love, but tonight we make love”, “Call 9890 987946 for a great fuck” and etc.

The valentine party turn out to be one of the greatest party I attended or being part of it. We also had group of French people, about 3 guys and 5 girls attended our valentine party, somehow got invited through friend’s friend connection. The night was also a smoking party. There was this French guy who looks like Dean Cain (Ripley’s believe it or not) who hung out at the party. He was quite cool too, smoking and drinking endlessly and was one of the brat ended up drunk and stone. Erin, from the United States were also there with her new colleague from a country my brain didn’t know, The Iceland Reunion”, a country of 1 million population, located somewhere near Maldives. Her name is Nina and she had a shaven head like Demi Moore in G.I Jane.

This party originally, suppose to be a party full of love, with a lot of hugging and kissing but Wim and I would like to put it, kissing, hugging and fucking but sadly, at the end of the night, at around 3am, most of the people were drunk and stone enough and somewhat lost the ability to fuck. But one thing for sure that night was, kissing and hugging and dancing add up to be lot of fling. Mario was drunk until he loses his ability to speak like a normal person. As for me, I was little bit of both, drunk and stone. I was quite high that I kept shouting Omar’s name, be it from the bathroom, or from the living room or from the balcony. (the video of this party is really great)

Right now, the Brazil Acoustic CD had been replaced by Leonard Cohen’s greatest hits.

The valentine party was really great and fantastic but the saddest thing was, the valentine party turn out to be the last party held in A20. (Contract terminated 3 days after the party). All the songs that played during the valentine party were specially compiled by Meike, with the song title must contain the word “love”.




Let’s drive away…

The morning after the valentine party, as expected, I woke up with little bit of hangover. I woke up dehydrated and with headache too. I told myself the useless promises again, that I would never drink again but I know you know everybody knows, this will not be the end. But luckily, the hangover was not bad at all, just a light one and was gone few hours after that.

That Saturday morning, we were on the expedition to Panthim dam, a Godsent place, beautifully endowed with nature’s greatest make-up of the strong mountains, calm and huge rivers and lakes and the greens along the way. It is far away from the city rush hours and its mixture of sound and air pollution. It was planned by Omar and he was the most enthusiastic one with this expedition.

He prepared a pot of marinated chicken soup, with 2 kg of chicken, lot of potatoes and tomatoes, olives, vegetables etc. He was also the one that rented the 4-WD jeep for all of us. The groups of the so called expeditors was Omar & Thalib (on the super bike), David, Erin, me, Mario, Meike, Marielle, Wim and the new girl in town, from Colombia, the lovely Carolina.

The beautiful Carolina, always smiley, always cheerful and always so lovely. She kisses everyone as a token of hello as well as goodbye. I always tease her that she looks like a Italian girl but she is still proud of being a Colombian girl.

Anyway, at around 1.20 pm, we packed everything and dumped everything in the jeep. Mario was in the front seat, with one driver and one redundant idiotic Indian. On the second row was me, David and Wim, with lots of backpacks, guitar and bags while at the last row was the girls namely Marielle, Meike, Carolina and Erin.

We departed at about 2pm from Korageon Park. The jeep drove us through the rush hours of Pune, through the unorganized and ever messy traffics and lots of honks from almost every vehicles, four wheelers or two wheelers and of course the auto-rickshaws. We were driving to the furthest of Pune and for about two hours, through the slump houses, under the bridges, with the music of Tracy Chapman and Sting accompanied us and me, few chapters of Che Guevara’s “The motorcycle dairies” we finally reached Panthim dam, a place where sounds of nature can be easily heard with no disruption and no distraction whatsoever, as the noise of the machines gradually subsided.

We thought we had arrived but we still had to go the deep inside of Panthim. So, the real exciting expedition begin as our 4WD struggle through the bumpy, uneven, rocky sandy roads, up and down, through the serendipity views of the calm rivers and lakes, the lazy mountains, clear sky with Omar and Thalib stalking behind us. For me, I was deeply and peacefully dwelled into the lively and highly entertaining travelling biography of Che Guevara through the Latin America while Mario, Wim, Erin, Carolina and David were caught playing eyes with the nature’s views and the rest of the girls (Meike and Marielle) were singing variety of songs, constantly raping and butchering the originity of the songs with their out of tunes, keyless rendering of every songs. But none of us really give a damn because somehow the crazy polluted rendering was being treated as a norm of that journey.

At one point of cliff, just right at the cornering, where the view from that point, a viewpoint towards the calmly lake and mountains that will overwhelmed your imagination, Omar & Thalib´s bike tyre burst and there it goes, the hell of the nightmare when travelling with bike; punctured!!

The empty road behind us and ahead of us was empty, occasionally seeing some passing bikes. Thalib managed to wave help from one of the local motor biker which happen to passing through our unlucky route. So, Thalib went off with the unknown yet kind stranger to the outer part to get helps from a mechanic. Omar started to roll a joint, the first joint of the journey while I was kicking a empty box of Kingfisher until it thrashed really bad. Omar insisted our jeep to proceed to our destination and convinced us that Thalib and he will find us. Because of the confidence, we went on and we never see Omar again that night after that fateful event.

The journey got even worse, bumpier, more confusing as the jeep struggle through the small roads, smoky red-sands. The local kids were playing together and when they saw group of aliens passing them, they waved at us happily, hoping that we will remember them always. Their greeting seems like a hello without worries. Along the journey, we also came through some cows and goats enjoying their endless lunch on the crunchy grass while the dog and the shepherd boy directing the big animals back home. It was already around 5pm already. The jeep driver and us had trouble in reaching our spot for camping but after few rounds of asking and confirming with the locals as well as David’s memory recollection on the spot, we managed to reached the spot.

The journey to the deep inside of Panthim dam was blessed with the God-gifted beautiful landscape. It was so fresh, so calm, so serene, so beautiful that at anytime, anyone can contemplate their life journey.

With the confusing route, we were convinced that Omar and Thalib will never find us, let alone us. The spot of our camp was really deep inside, about an hour of driving from the outside. The jeep stopped at the small gate and all of us had to shift all of our stuff to the spot, about 500m up and down the small cliff and through the small bushes.

We were amazingly overwhelmed by the beauty of the natures that lay in front of our pair of flashy eyes. Beautiful Joshua trees (about few of them) with concretes and flat rock-cement as its feet were our spot for camping. David started to gather the woods for fire and cooking, marielle, Meike, Mario, Wim, Carolina and Erin stored the beers into the big lake and started to dip themselves into the cold lake water while me, still contemplating at the beautiful nature around me.

After the woods were gathered and string had been tight from one tree to the other, David and I started to enjoy the cold water of the lake. We clean ourselves while the rest just chilled. While gathering the dry woods, David and I met up with the Shepard old man with a small playful creature call puppy and though we didn’t speak the similar language, we seems to understand each other through our mimicking and body gestures. The beauty of the nature seems to be the messenger among us.

The day was almost over, ushering the night to be with us. All of us already befriended with the lake water and are letting the atmosphere drying us up. When the sounds of the jungle, and the creepy crawlies talking in their own language and the silence of the dark are being heard, the day were over, dead as the lively night begin.

David and Wim lighted up the fire while the rest of us either did something from nothing or nothing from something.

Omar still never appear at any of our sight so the game of guessing and speculating about whatever happen to Omar started. The questions like did Thalib came and get Omar?, Did Omar still lost in the dark and the million dollar question, who kill Omar? Or maybe Omar set the whole things up, conspire with Nills the big guy (pulled out of the trip at eleventh hour with stomach upset as a excuses) and Bernard the weirdo to kill all of us.

The video started to record the moment of our silence together, the guessing game, the cooking and the spontaneous moves, the wordless script and occasionally us breaking the silences of the night.

After a simple yet delightful dinner of chicken soup with bread and chapati (thanks to Omar for wholeheartedly preparing the meal), we started the drinking session. While we were playing the drinking game, we saw a light signal from the other side, faraway, light signalling us for emergency helps or trying desperately to communicate.

With the increasingly eerie sound of the night, we replied the light signal. The whole light signalling event really reminded us of one of the American teen spooky movie where we predicted one by one of us will be kill by a psycho killer. We though of Omar giving us the signal but it was impossible because he didn’t have anything with him except for a pack of joint (when the bike broke down, everything was in the jeep). We started to scream for Omar at the top of our lungs, hopefully if it was him, he would heard us somehow but at the end of light signalling, it was all in vain. The sound that replied to our screaming was a sound of a tractors.

The landscape came livelier at night. The moon was illuminating the Clearwater of the lake from the above; the leaf of the trees was dancing while the wind blows lazily and the night starting to chill us to the bone.

After the drinking game and a round of guitar strumming, killing and raping all the legendary songs, we decided to call it a night and there it goes, the night died young at us.

We slept on the concrete cement brick, on our backpack, under the trees, accompanied by other living creatures of that place. Sleeping beside me was the beautiful smiley Carolina (on my left) while on my right was Meike. At night I woke up without space and chilled to the bone. Carolina too was chilled, shivering and hide inside her sleeping bag. I extra blanketed her and cuddled her to sleep (also to generate free heat from her to me) and before we knew it, the morning sun hit us with its shining light and I was awake. Yesterday was a history and had been forgotten with today’s unpredictable journey. The new day has come hence the new beginning.

After a simple breakfast (cans of sardines and breads and butter), few chapters of Che Guevara’s motorcycle diaries, naps in between, bathing chillingly at the lake water, I woke up again from my golden nap. Everyone was worried because the jeep driver didn’t come and pick us up and they were late for almost 4 hours. (We were supposed to travel to other end and to the highest peak) but they were late).

At about 4pm (the jeep are suppose to come at 1.30pm), everyone was started to give different opinion of escaping our camping spot. David and Marielle suggested we cross to the other side by the crappy boat and get helps, some suggested we keep waiting but the latter suggestion was risky because the jeep was already late for 3 hours, day was approaching night and darkness was about to fall on us again and we had no food left.

So, we adopted the first suggestion but just when we about to start the plan, the jeep arrived, but with different jeep and different driver, we were shocked and dumbfounded. With that we bade farewell to Panthim and felt thankful for the beautiful landscape rendered to us as our surrounding.

We were picked by the strange guy with the same useless redundant guy as the assistant. When he started to drive us home straight, ignoring all of our original plans of going to other places, small commotion arose without knowing what was the worse happen at home in koregeon park.

The jeep driver didn’t speak English, so the commotion got even worse with more miscommunication. I started to call the runner and fucked him big time on the phone about the whole things. To cut the story short, we were despatched home at around 8pm. What happen was the first jeep cancelled the deal (of driving us there and picking us up) because he felt cheated and the hellish roads had apparently mess up his jeep. Omar on the other hand had safely reached home the night before. He and Nills the big guy almost got into big fight with the runner and his buddies from the travel agency.

They were demanding for more money and we refused because of the fuck up service. The new jeep guy was not at all involved. He was hired by Omar separately to pick us up. We apologised to him for the miscommunication and slight commotion.

Until today as I am typing this, the case has not been settled yet. The agreed settlement had been reached but now the runner (which was fucked big time from me on the phone) didn’t turn up to collect the settlement.

That night, the day before A20 surrender back to her owner, I, and so are the rest was packing up for a new house.


Goodbye A20 and hello Mumbai

After three months of balcony chilling, parties, friends and friendship being made and endless list of event, we finally bade farewell to A20, a heaven for everyone.

A20 is definitely more than a home, enough said. At the ungodly hour of early morning, I took a auto rickshaw to Ambica pump station to board a bus to Mumbai, for my business trip. At the station, I met and chatted briefly with the very beautiful Indian girl and before I could get the name and jog down the contacts, she had to rush up to her bus (also to Mumbai) but 15 minutes earlier than mine. She looks like a girl in the 20 and are leaving Pune for Bollywood stardom. (Most of punites girls leaved their hometown for Bollywood stardom and golden dream)

The Mumbai branch was located in MG road, opposite the British architecture building of Standard Chartered. The whole surrounding of MG road, plus the whole area was very British and for the first time, I fall in love with Mumbai. (The previous two trip was so mess up hence I disliked Mumbai)

Around MG road, I saw a huge field with a small concrete road separated the field into two parts. The concrete walkway serves as an easy access for pedestrian who want to walk to the other side. The field is about 5 times bigger than our Dataran Merdeka. The design and architecture of the buildings looks like our Bangunan Sultan Abdul Samad and the railway station which is very British but they were bigger. Kids were playing cricket on every part of the fields, despites the hot weather. University of Mumbai was across the road as well as lots of colleges and educational institutions. This part of city like any other developed city. Everybody seems to be walking fast without a destination.

First day at work was cool. The branch manager we suppose to meet wasn’t made available until 4.30 in the afternoon. So, we were wasting our time of walking and discovering the beautiful yet busy Mumbai. The branch manager turn out to be a very fine man, from the Bollywood list of heroes, a very articulate and precise person, speak a very good English and the look doesn’t match the age and the position. The meeting took about 2.5 hours and we were treated like a external consultant.

At night, we walked about 1km to our company guesthouse (Kasturi building), walking and passing through few colleges, small alleys, roundabout and classy restaurant and café. We saw lots of young Indian dudes, who pretty much explored by the western value; smoking, piercing, speaking English, spiky hair, tattoo and most importantly, the views that pause our attention away from other matters was the young gorgeous chicks. For a moment, I thought we were in the land of Bollywood. (Bandra of Bollywood is similar to that of Beverly Hills of Hollywood, located about an hour drive away from our office, where lots of celebrity resided)


At evening, we went to dinner with one of the engineer from head office; happen to be in Mumbai for some business. His name is Vinog. We went to church gate, a restaurant serving beers and decorated like a British pub but nothing British about it except for maybe the London Pilsner beers. They were playing Indian music, serving Indian foods (and other western food too) and no bar counter and catchy posters, so unlike the British pub I came to know.

The bill was taken care off by Vinog. We walked to the nearby bay. This straight and even road and the buildings along it look exactly like Gurney drive in Penang. But both theirs and us have different good point. Theirs “persiaran” is bigger, longer, curvy, fully lighted by the neon. You can feel the chilly wind and see the mountains of buildings and skyscrapers on the other side of bay, across the sea, which is one of Mumbai beach. Occasionally, I saw a horse-wagon passing by, as one of the city’s public transportation. (This part of city banned the operation of the crooky auto rickshaw).

Persiaran gurney, I would say, smaller, lots hotels and pubs and sidewalk café. Though theirs is consider beautiful, but I think I would very much prefer Penang´s Persiaran Gurney.

In the morning, we woke up at around 9am and immediately switch on the TV. The company guest house is just like any other high class house or a pent house in a 3-4 star hotel. Enough said. We checked in the branch office at 3pm, after cruising the city nearby. (Appointment with client was scheduled at 4pm, until then, we were free)

We went to the library of Mumbai University. The architecture of the building was fantastic and brilliant. Imagine Harvard’s old classic building, and then you will get the whole picture of their library. There was also a clock tower, high up, almost touching the sun. It was quite well known since the British built it before independent. In the history of the India, there was only one person who managed to hit the cricket ball from the huge field I mentioned earlier and hit exactly at the clock tower and this incident was deemed, the impossible event. The cricket player went on the be a national cricket player.


We had lunch at the same restaurant we had night before, church gate. Thomas and I ordered a pitcher of beer and some main dishes.

At 3pm, together with the branch manager, we drove from MG road to the client office, located about 30km away. We drove through the longest expressway in India and through many exciting moments of that day.

Everything was over and we reached home at around 6pm and by 6.30pm, our asses were rested on the guest house’s couch watching “The American chopper”, about a dad and two kids using wasted metals to build a giant Harley Davidson, while being serve by Paul the caretaker, a hot coffee. After the show, we were hook until 8pm with MadTv classic jokes. It was really funny. You will know what I means if you ever read MAD magazine.

We left our guest house at around 8.15pm and tipped Paul about 50 rupees for his excellent service. We reached Central Mumbai railway station and after a dinner at McDonald and 90 minutes of waiting in the upper class waiting room, we boarded a train, a vadodara express to Baroda. The night train took approximately 7 hours to reach Baroda, our next branch visit. We were at baroda train station at around 6.15 am and the small town was already pumping out for business. While waiting to be pick up by Pradeep, the branch manager, I came across this beautiful “unpolluted” Indian girl who looks like Salma Hayek (Frida, Fool rush in) but in traditional Indian costume. Her big boost and tight ass really “motivated” my little brother and hence the little devil woke up, so wide like never before.

Pradeep came shortly after and he drove us the the company guest house. The guest house and the operational office is one entity. It is a bungalow with upstairs as a guest house and downstairs as a office. In short, SOHO concept. (Small Office Home Office)

The Salma Hayek look-alike still mingling in my mind and eventually lead to a wild imagination of sexual thrashes of Rock n´Roll. Little Johnny couldn’t stand anymore. With no sex around to serve my sexual lust and passion, I did what man does best, masturbation.

Yes, no shame to confess about it. When man is helpless, we go back to the basic, to the core, essence of the essence, the thing we do before sex invasion, masturbation. Young people these days tend to shy away about masturbation act. They thought it is something taboo or something shameful to confess. For me, confess or no confess, man are born to masturbate, to relieve their sexual need and desire when there is no sex around, nothing “loser” about it. Even Paul Stanley, the lead vocalist of KISS, who in his life time had fucked more than one thousand girls but still confess of his sometime masturbation act.


Badora is a small city. And to work in SOHO, high discipline are highly required. We started our meeting with Pradeep, Mary the secretary, and two senior sales engineers for about 2 hours. After the meeting, the working day was consider practically over, not including 2 of 15 minutes appointment with a clients that day, DNL and Siemens.

The first client we visited was about 25 km away. The area where DNL located is a industrial area. On the back from the appointment, the tyre of our car burst and punctured. So, we stop by at one small shop, in the middle of nowhere, to patch up the tube. What around us was just a small village, dusty and smoky roads ahead of us where the dust seems to fly around, fiercely and fearing of the hot sun. While the mechanic patching the tube. I walked around, feeling the atmosphere of the village life, snapping some exciting photos. Kids were playing gasing and there was this particular kid was intimating some superheroes by putting a plastic bag onto his head. He reminds me of me when I was a kid. I showed some of the skills in playing gasing but too bad, the skills were long time gone before I even realize it.

I can still remember when we used to draw a circle on the ground and each of the kids put about 10 to 50 cent and whoever who managed to hit the coins outs, wins the coins and I was quite good at it. Another gasing game was spinning our gasing in the circle, and the player tried hard to crush opponent’s gasing by hitting hard on it. Others was half spinning it and pull it out high up in the air and let it spin on our hand, “mouse catching”, “V-spinning on the hand” and so forth.

Another event that fateful day that reminds me of my childhood was when I accidentally step on cow’s shit.

In the village, I saw a very beautiful and cute; 2 years old Caucasian kid was helping her mum washing the dishes. I wander who is the irresponsible Caucasian dad…(or maybe the dad was around somewhere, winning the bread but highly unlikely)


We went to a nearby Chinese restaurant and had a great lunch. My appetite was served. The bill again, was taken care off. The town where our office located was quite dead. At around 8 something, the whole town almost went to sleep already. It was hard to get a dinner with meats (non-veg) and all alcoholic drink is banned in this part of India. So, we went to InOX cinema where there is one McDonald and we ate sinfully, chewing the meats down out throat and to our stomach.

At night nothing much to do, no good places to sight seeing, no happening places except for cinema who shows only Hindi movies. I spent most of my evening surfing the net, chatting, checking and rechecking emails, reading good articles at Malaysiakini etc. And since the phone is just nearby me, I called some of my friends faraway. I called Gesine in New Delhi and chatted for about 25 minutes.

I retired to the bedroom at around 1135pm, but not yet. Thomas was smoking in the room, drinking mineral water and HBO was showing “Back to the future”.

After Michael J Fox successfully saved his family from nonexistent, I retired to my bed and my soul fly away into the cosmic world. I died that night and born again day after.

Nothing productive had been done until 4.30pm except for surfing the net, telephone calling, watching TV and listening to XPDC, Crossfire, May and other Malay bands in the room, breakfast and lunch and lots of naps.

OK, I am about to finish this crap. White Lion’s “When the children cry” is playing in the air and I need a cup of tea and a cigarette. BREAK.

Though my break is not officially over yet, but I feel the urge to get on typing since my favourite song in rocking in the air, Motley Crue´s “Time for change”. Those were the days when Vince Neils, Mick Mars, Tommy Lee and Nikki Sixx drive me crazy.

That night, we left Baroda and back to Mumbai, another 7 hours train ride. We reached Mumbai (Dadar station) at around 5.30am and managed to detrain in the nick of time. (The train moved immediately after we detrain)

We reached Pune by hopping up a private car. Rod Steward, Sting and Bryan Adam’s´”All for love” is in the air now.

We checked in our new apartment. It was quite a big apartment, located side by side my chairman’s classy pent house. The apartment name is Mit olympus. It had 2 balconies, 3 bedrooms (all bed rooms have a balcony and attached bathroom) and a spacious living room. Forgetting about A20, I am starting to like this new apartment after a day in this house. Despite the hot weather, this apartment is very cosy and quite chill in the morning (and afternoon too). My first pet friend was a brown colour dog, named Bobby, in remembrance of my crazy cat, Bobby.

That morning, we skipped office, and we met up with Wim the Dutch guy to bade farewell to him. Wim is going back to India that day. We had a breakfast at Prem, a mid-range, very cosy half open air restaurant nearby our new apartment. By the way, our new apartment is just 5 minutes from A20.

Wim passed me lots of CDs which I required him to burn from his rich music library namely, Eric Clapton and U2´s full records (12-15 albums each), Shrek OST, John Mayer, Buena Vista, Jazz.com Cd, MP3 of famous Dutch music and the most controvesial movie that caused the clash of Muslim-Christians relationship in Netherlands recently that resulted in the killing of the director, Theo van Gogh and burning of mosque and churches. The short movie is “Submission”.



And again, we bade farewell to Wim, a very cool guy. I mentioned lots of name here and most probably the names will confuse you, when I am back, I will show you lots of movie (thanks to David) about our happening parties, everyday life, activities and the faces of Pune trainees as well as visiting trainees from all around India.

That night, Anna (from Greece)´s mum cooked us a Greek dinner. The first trip Delhi was celebrated with Omar’s mum with French/Egyptian meals and now the second, the Greek dinner. I would still wanna call it a coincidence, rather than a welcoming back celebration.

She speaks no English but she is a very good mum. She treated all of us like her own kids. That night, all known faces and some unknown faces were there to enjoy Greek´s delicacies. Some of the meals were Greek coffee, Greek’s liquor (oozuk), potato/tomato stuff with marinated rice, great pasta and spaghetti with special chicken gravy, pot of chicken and few bottles of wines and beers. Not only cooking, she cleaned our new apartment whole day. What a mum…

We were watching movie from Valentine party and panthim dam weekend trip. Lots of the clips featuring me (and girls), me talking craps, me smoking, me swearing, I couldn’t recall most of them or maybe I didn’t realize them. Like I said, it was a great party.

Tonight, I will be going out with Erin, the girl from United States (one of the very rare democrat supporter in the state of Louisiana) either to a jazz pub or hanging out at my place, with lots of beers. Most of my housemates are now gone. Marielle and Nills and Mario from C1 is already in Mumbai, to meet some trainees from baroda, Thomas is occupied, Omar is hanging out in Goa (his third time) with his mum.

About Erin, she is a very smart and knowledgeable girl. Pinky size and like to smoke and drink in the party, stuff she rarely do back home. The award winning movie “Dead Man walking” was shot 10 minutes away from her house. The other award winning movie was also being shot there, “Monster Ball”. She had see them in person, Billy Bob, Helle Berry, Heath ledger etc.



So, lots of farewell to everything and to every ones.

OK, I think I am going nowhere and this time; this journal is taking up too much of my time, my tea, my cigarette and my everything. So I better stop here. (The last song before I signed off is Lynard Skynard´s “sweet home Alabama”)

God bless!

Love and regards,

Peter