I forgot...

Today's Object of:

Affection:

1.) Chibo. (Dominican style goat meat) It tastes like Punjabi style goat meat.

So. Good.

2.) BBC Asian Network

3.) Marc Anthony. (I can't wait for the release of his new movie, El Cantante.) Do you know he went to Julliard for acting? Don't sleep on him - he's a really good actor.


Hateration:

1.) My take-home exam.

2.) J-Lo. I get it. You're hood. You're from the Bronx. And you are OH SO Boricua. I. Get. It.

It's been a long time - shouldn't have left you.

Finish the lyric. :)

Pul chuk muaaf. (Forgive me.)

Law school has been heavily busy - and even though I've had many random things I'd love to just blog about, I just haven't made the time. I'm lame.

Anyways, I'm avoiding finishing a take-home exam right now, but I wanted to give myself some motivation to come back. So here it is. A few more days and I'll be back!

Sidenote - check out BBC Asian Network Radio. Dipps Bamrah's show has got me hooked!

Finding strength again...

Thank you, everyone, for your warm thoughts and prayers. They've worked. I was informed yesterday that the men responsible for my uncle's death were arrested and are currently being held without bail. Incidentally, one of the men was found in the hospital, being treated for a gunshot wound, apparently from one of the few shots my uncle was able to fire off while defending his wife and himself. They matched up the bullet from the man's wound with my uncle's firearm, and brought him in. We're all feeling very positive, and hope for the best in bringing these men to justice.

We may have lost him, but we haven't lost his love or his memory.

R.I.P Shamsher Bahadur Singh Tucker (1972-2006)

We miss you, Chachu.



http://www.11alive.com/news/usnews_article.aspx?storyid=81514

My uncle, Shamsher Bahadur Singh, "Rocky" to us, was killed late this past Saturday night. He was hardly ten years older than me, and was shot in front his 2nd wife, who he'd been married to less than a year. Rocky Chachu (Chacha is your father's younger brother, Chachu is an affectionate form of the word) made a lot of mistakes in his life, but he was a *good* man. He knew how to enjoy life and made sure that you enjoyed it, too. I didn't let myself cry yet, because if I cried, it meant that he was really gone - that it really happened. I can still hear his voice "Hey Cuzzz" - he always introduced me as his cousin, even though I've called him Chachu as long as I can remember. We've all been in a bit of shock. Today was the first time that I didn't hold back when I started tearing up. Incidentally, the tears came as soon as I typed the first line of this post. I let them out, wiped them away, and then kept typing.

You left us too soon, Chachu. We miss you. I know your love is always with us.


***
There's much I haven't posted over the past month - I have some catching up to do. I'll do it next week.

No hateration today.

Guess Who's Bizack

JAY-HOVAAAA... or me, rather. ::: Shrug :::


Sidenote - this EPT (pregnancy test) commercial cracks me up. "I can't concentrate.... could I be pregnant?"

.....come on. Maybe you just need some fresh air, some Ritalin, or even frequent condom use.


***
On to bigger things.

Gurdass Mann was brilliant. He's *kind* of flaming, but in a way that only he could pull off and is totally still cool. The whole evening was amazing. He sounds live just as he does in a recording: polished, smooth, and strong. Gurdass performed for about 3 hours. He only stopped in the middle to change. He was bouncing and dancing all over the place, doing random moves, bhangra moves, gidha moves, and something almost resembling the two-step. It was DOPE. He sang a bunch of new things - some from his newest album, Valayatan, some from his movie soundtrack, Des Hoya Pardes, and some classics, like Challa. The *one* song I was waiting for all night...Dil Da Mamla Hai... did *not* get sung. That broke my heart. BUT, aside from hearing his voice, I did receive other nostalgic gratification: that tambourine. *dreamy sigh*. Something just stirred inside me when he came out with that dufflee. It's not a prop, you know. He makes it sing. Also, he looked *so* handsome. The first half of the evening he was rocking an orange kurta and chaadra, along with that vest with the tassles that only he looks good in, and then he went to change into pretty much the same outfit, except pistachio colored. Who looks good in ANYthing pista-colored?? Gurdass does, that's who.

Next time, I'll have to save up for better seats.
***

Quick Update:

-Finals went well, I hope. ::: Fingers Crossed :::

-I'll be taking a couple of summer classes - most likely Law and Economics, and Employment Law. Not really looking forward to either, but I *am* looking forward to getting more credits and not graduating in 2009. That's fun.

-I landed an internship at a recording studio. I'll be there a few days a week and acting as a personal assistant to this guy. He's a producer, musician, boxer, Brit, and many other things. It's my job to get him organized and keep him regulated. Everyone there puts out a good vibe, and everyone I've met has made me feel welcome. I know it's not a legal internship, but I feel like this is going to be an invaluable experience. It's a chance for me to gain experience of the business, production, and possibly creative sides of the music industry, and that can't be a bad thing.

-I found an old video we had of a live private concert of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. I couldn't stop watching it or singing along at the top of my lungs.

***

Today's Object Of:


Affection: Vincent D'Onofrio. Today there is a Law and Order: Criminal Intent marathon on and I have been stuck watching it ALL DAY. It's an addiction.

Hateration: Whatever is on TV after this marathon is over.

Maan, Oh, Maan.....

So I haven't blogged in a minute... I'll pretend it's because I'm doing all this work... forgive me.

I might as well keep busy during Property class while I'm learning about zoning and legislative land use controls to also blog about Gurdas Maan, not an O.G., but the Punjabi Music Industry's Madonna, if you will: still going strong. I figured I'd post about him today because he's recently put out a new album, Vilayatan, and he's also hitting up the New Jeruzalem on April 15 at the New Jersey Performing Arts Center (NJPAC).

Why's Gurdas Maan so awesome? Personally, I just find him to be sincere and true in his work. I'm not saying he has the Midas Touch, or that I like every song/movie/etc. he has ever done, but there is a sense of purity that comes forth in his music. His vocal skills are still sharp, and his voice is as pleasing, soothing, and comforting as Grandma's kheer. He doesn't compromise who he is. He's found his niche, and it continues to work for him. Gurdas brought a fresh face and sound to Punjabi music while maintaining its heart. He revealed the beauty of Punjab to the world, and helped many Punjabis get reacquainted with the jewel they were already in possession of.

After "Dil Da Mamla Hai", and his terrific acting in "Ucha Dar Babe Nanak Da", I was hooked. I still have the soundtrack, and I play it in my car *all* the time.

He's so super. I'll let you know how the concert is. BOOYAKA.

***
Today's Object Of:

Affection:

Jasraj of Lethal Dholis. I visited Toronto from March 4 to 11, and got to meet him the night before I was leaving. I've been aching to learn dhol for so long now, and to learn it properly and classically. He's a very patient guy - and extremely talented. He's been playing percussion (drums, tabla, dhol) for 7 years, and his talent is expressive of the work he's put into his training. He taught me 3 different beats that I could take home with me and practice. I can't stop playing them on my lap, against my laptop, or against anything I can find. The only thing I can't play against is the actual dhol I have at home because it sucks. At the end of our lesson, Jasraj played this gidha beat that was so crisp, I couldn't help but exclaim, "Goddamn, that's sexy."

Thank you, Jasraj- I'm definitely bothering you next time I attack T-dot.

Hateration:

My dhol. Because it's busted and sucks so much.

Two legs to stand on...

I was in the gym yesterday evening, and I headed towards the elliptical machines (my favorite). I don't go exercise in a particular spot based on who is/isn't there, but I felt lucky to find myself on an elliptical with a good looking chocolate-skinned man on an elliptical machine to my left. I just did my thing, and he finished on his machine before I was done. He headed towards the bikes that were in a row in front of me a bit to my right. Now, most of the good looking men I come across these days, on the train or in the streeet, always seems to have a wedding ring on. (And all of the cute guys in law school are either married or seriously dating someone as well. *ugh*.) So it's become my reflex to check. As he walked over to a bike a bit over to my right, I did my casual glance over to see if he was wearing a wedding ring, and he had no hand. His arm was amputated above the elbow.

.... fuck.

Marriage ranting

I sit in the car sometimes with my mother on the way to the train station to catch the train to school, listening to her tales of the newest drama on Sa Re Ga Ma Pa, or what family-friend did what at which party, and I swear I’m listening – I can recount everything she says. However, I can’t help but stare out the window and feel as if I want to just jump out of the car while the car’s still in motion. It sounds horrible, I know. It has nothing to do with her, though, to be honest, or with Sa Re Ga Ma Pa. Shaan is adorable, and my mother more so. It just feels like that is how my life is. Stuck in a car going somewhere with my mom or dad or whoever, making the best of the situation. I prefer being the one driving, literally, and figuratively. Things don’t always work out that way, though. I still haven’t mentioned what happened with that singer-chick to my parents. Nothing substantive developed with her, by the way- I’ll call her this week and see if she’s interested in bringing me on board, or not. I wasn’t sure that she was, but whatever.

Currently, everyone and their mom is still trying to get me married. I want to get married, but I just don’t like forced situations. I still want to marry a Sikh guy, but I can’t even remember why at this point. I feel bad when someone I know suggests that I marry someone I already know as a friend. How do I tell them that Sikh guys just don’t seem to be attracted to me? If they are, it may be physically… maybe. But they don’t like-like me. And the ones I meet in a setup situation, I just don’t connect with. I'm not saying that all Sikh men are like that, or that it will never happen. I'm just relaying the record so far. For the record, I don’t have problems with getting guys – I’ve had some hot guys attracted to me… they just happen to be non-Punjabi and non-Sikh. The summary of the situation is, I want to marry a Sikh guy, Sikh guys and I don’t end up connecting, and the non-Sikh guys I dig (that I can’t marry) dig me back. So basically, I’m screwed. The guys who meet my parents qualifications resume and family-wise, I form no connection with. I try – I give them an open and fair chance, but then when I do that, even when I don’t have the greatest feeling about it from the start, they get to go on record as having “rejected” me. I can’t even do that – one, because I’m busy giving them a fair chance, (apparently which I’m supposed to give “everyone”, but let’s be realistic), and two, because if I’m the one doing all the rejecting, everyone is going to hate on my parents for me being too picky. Especially since, according to the Desi Woman’s Marriage Points Formula as calculated and compared to the Desi Woman’s Marriage Potential Table, I’m not all that. They look at me and say “Well, at least she’s fair.” Ugh. I’m not tall, or skinny, and I talk too much. Oh, and I’m a feminist. Not a feminazi, just so you know, not that it matters. I’m a good Punjabi girl by many standards – I do gidha, I’m a star with the aunties, I’m into Punjabi music, and kind of fobby, some say, I’m semi-domesticated, and I love taking care of people when they’re in my home. However, I'm not skinny, I don't switch my entire personality based on which aunties are/aren't there, and I don't talk to people I dislike out of formality. Oh, and I'm comfortable with myself. Bleh.

Sorry for the rant.

****

Today's Object of:

Affection: The guy that works in that Panini spot in Newark Penn Station. I get coffee/breakfast from there most days. We've become familiar with each other, he knows what kind of sandwich I want, he's really sweet and he always makes it just right. Good guy.

Hateration: No hateration today. I let out my rant above, and the weather is just too nice. :)

Balle Superman

Ni Shava Superman.
***


I've been swamped lately between law school classes and my CFP (Certified Financial Planner) classes. I figured I needed something else on my plate, so I started browsing Craigslist (one of my favorite sites - you can find a roomate, furniture, a job, and a one-night stand all in one place) in the musicians community section. As much as I love music, I've only ever let it out in mini-spurts - more toned down, I suppose. There was no way I could go holding it all in. I used to think I did that all because of a desire to not upset my parents' idea of how life is supposed to go. I've realized more and more lately that it was also maybe out of shyness or a lack of confidence on my part. I like my voice, but there's been something that's always made me feel that if I really just sang in front of people, just really letting myself go, that I would leave myself open and vulnerable, or maybe I didn't want to share that part of myself with them (or what if I just suck?). I don't know. So anyhow, I've been pushing myself to let it out, bit by bit, I suppose. That's why I was excited when I met up with DJ Pain1 of Extortion Entertainment. Being involved with the RKS project has made me want to put myself out there more. (Shout out to Pain! If you haven't yet, definitely check out RKS's Bollywood Ka Bacha.) So that's how I ended up browsing Craigslist, looking for some sort of outlet, some sort of gig. I came across an ad - some chick looking for a desi female singer. (For the non-South Asian folk, desi denotes "of the country".) Long story short, she's this singer, she sings in English/Punjabi/Hindi, and does a Bollywood-y, fusion type thing. (I won't give out too much info on her as yet because if nothing happens, I don't want her or my business out there. Yeah yeah I know I blog, but, believe it or not, I'm still a pretty private person. When I blog, I share some personal sentiments, but super personal info? Yeah, not so much.) Anyways, I'm meeting up with her tonight and we're supposed to "vibe it out". I'm assuming that means have a casual chat and sing and stuff. ::: shrug ::: I don't know how these things work. I'm just going to be studying all day and then meet up with her late tonight. I'm not making a big deal about it because you just can't assume shit. But, if anything, I'm excited at seeing me taking steps to make myself happier.

Today's object of:

Affection: Victoria's Secret's Semi-Annual sale. *Big Grin*.

Hateration: Aunties who tell me I need to lose weight. Yes, I know. We all got the memo. I'm working on it. Leave me alone. You're fatter than I am, and at least I'm thick and curvy (and Rubenesque, even?), and don't look like a barrel. Jerk.