Tower Moments

Of all the “bad cards” in tarot, the Tower is something I am comfortable with. Maybe even a little too comfortable.

The 16th card from the Major Arcana, the Tower is traditionally seen as the representation of disaster, sudden change, significant disruption and chaos.

Those are enough reasons for people to not want to see it in a reading.

It makes sense. We, human beings, tend to seek stability in our lives. I am no different. As I write this on top of my picnic rug, in the park soaking the sun, eating the cheese and getting a bit buzzed from the wine, I too don’t wish for the rug to be pulled from under my feet. Both metaphorically and literally.

But it didn’t start this way for me.

I came from a somewhat traditional Indian family. I say somewhat because my parents are smart people with kind hearts who want nothing but, what they think, as the best for their daughter. But at the same time, they are bogged down by society and at times dated and jaded traditions. Growing up, it had always been a constant struggle between following the social values and just being a child, and later, a teenager. For example, they would let me wear whatever I wanted, which was more than most Indian girls growing up in a traditional family could ask for. But at the same time, I wasn’t allowed to date.

I did both. With that, I turned into the rebel of the family and started what I called as my Tower moments.

My Tower moments started when I, as a teenager, laughed on the face of the priest who told Amma that he could magically make me stop rebelling. A major tower moment was when I cancelled my wedding a couple of weeks before the day. Another one, when I moved to Singapore without a job and proceeded to live there for almost a decade before uprooting the somewhat comfortable life I had built for myself to go back home because I wanted to heal my relationship with my parents. Again without a job. I also summoned The Tower when I migrated to Melbourne, and again when I married someone from a different background in Bali. This time without any priest.

The Tower is a shadow self that I have accepted. It taught me to be calm throughout chaotic periods in my life. From the period when my dad stopped talking to me to being bullied; even when I was made redundant. I went through these with a zen-ish outlook.

And I know I can go through similar shit moments in the future because I had deliberately chosen to walk through worse things, either because it aligned with my values or to chase my dreams.

I also learned that even though I always have plans for my life (Virgo baby!), sometimes the Universe grants my wishes in different ways. And based on my past experiences, it could just be in the Tower mode.

It’s good to remember that fundamentally the Tower is about radical changes. A reminder to:

“Be positive, it is time to replace the old foundations of the past with something that is more genuine and will serve better in what is to come”

Labyrinthos.


Not gonna lie, knowing that — if tomorrow, something happens and I have to uproot my life yet again — I can do it, feels pretty empowering. And I blame my semi-traditional Indian parents for it. They shouldn’t have instilled the value of resilience in the young rebellious me.

Marie Kondo

You know the saying when the student is ready the master will appear? That is how feel when I decide to ignore the clutter that’s piling beside my bed and watch Netflix instead.

The first recommendation for me was Maria Kondo.

Marie Kondo in the beginning 2019 is what Birdbox is at the end of 2018.

I tried to ignore it.

I even told Pri that her Christmas gift is on my travel pile. I will pass it to her someday.

Alright, Marie, I shall do it. Though I still have a lot to learn, I don’t think Marie would appear in my doorstep just yet.

Ps. I would like to think Marie Kondo is the reincarnation of the Goddess Hestia. That way I like her better.

Pps. If she is also your first Netflix recommendation maybe you ought to start as well.

The Lovers Moon Void Tarot

The Couch Potato Lovers

Interestingly, I draw this card today only after I looked for and wondered when will I get it. At first, I was planning a date night out with Fafa, but we ended up being couch potatoes from 6 PM onwards. But I ordered food for him, rubbed his feet, let him choose the TV show,  his TV choice and cut some cheese and bread for him. All in all, we had a loving Saturday night, as depicted by the tarot card, even though it doesn’t involve a romantic candlelight dinner.

Best Thing About Traveling

We are home! And that, I think, is one of the best things about of traveling.

Yesternight we reached home at midnight after flying from Christchurch airport six hours before. Instead of crashing immediately on the bed, I did my usual rounds around the house. I was so glad to be home!

Sometimes, that is the best part of traveling.

One of the things I always look forward to on my travels is to go home to my familiar things. Even if home meant the postage-stamp-sized room I rented in Singapore, it still was so much better compared to the shoebox-sized Hong Kong AirBnB.

This time it got a little worse because it has been two weeks! The last time I traveled for that long was a couple of years ago and then I didn’t have a home home as I was living at my parents’, so it wasn’t as bad.

But this time, I came home to my plants, my IKEA armchair, my crystals and candles, Joy the multicultural home Christmas tree, endless supply of tea and PJs, fast wifi speed, and best of all to my Netflix and Stan!

..that is the best part of traveling..

I showered, made myself my sleepy tea (Gone Surfing by T2Tea), and slipped into the blissdom of Netflix. Full disclosure, I also googled Hoarders, Million Dollars Listing, Snapped: Killer Couples, and Come Date With Me, all of the TV shows I watched on New Zealand’s Bravo TV which I have grown attached to. Especially Hoarders! It’s felt like a guilty pleasure for me, minus the guilt part.

..And that is also the best part of traveling..

I planned to wake up late today, but here I am, sitting down in front of my laptop which I also missed a lot, to write this to you.

It’s funny, this travel culture thing. I am happy to go on trips, and I am happy to wake up on my own bed after going on trips, and if you ask me to be on the road again tomorrow, I am up for it! Even to place without TV or tea, as long as I can pack my PJs along.

Because then I get to come home which is the best part of traveling!

For The Love of Tupperware

You have too many plastic boxes, Fafa complained. I raised one eyebrow as I reply. Boy, firstly, these plastic boxes are called Tupperware; it was a cultural icon. Also, it’s what’s keeping your food fresh much longer.

Man, I tell you! And mine doesn’t get my Tupperware obsession.

Though I will never admit it to him, Fafa is right. I do have too many “plastic boxes” as he called it. Yes, I am a wee bit obsessed with Tuperware. Kinda like Amma, who insisted that I bring back her Tupperware food containers from school or if I bring food to my friends or family member. Including the ones to her side of the family.

I never understand that until I realized that Tupperware is magical, with its microwaveable frozen thingy. Even though we never use the microwave at my parents’ after Appa read once that someone’s kidney got cooked by standing in front of the microwave.

Also, Tupperware is not cheap! And it comes with different sets and pretty seasonal colour and model wise (good strategy Tupperware company), so if you lost one, you wouldn’t have a complete set again. Not unlike a collector item.

That’s also made me wonder whether it would be ultimate accomplishment in my Amma’s eyes if I work in the Tupperware company? Or it would backfire as she would expect me to bring a new Tupperware home every month.

Scary Movies and Sugar Rush

This year, I am keeping my Halloween celebration pretty low key.

As low as raiding Amma’s secret stash of candies (yes, she really has it and no, I don’t know who she is hiding it from) and eating it in front of the TV.

Scary movies marathon accompanied with sugar rush is the theme. It’s okay, I am good, this will do for this year.

The Hoarders

My parents are hoarders. I had noticed their hoarding tendency long before I knew the actual term.

Hoard. Hoarding. Hoarders.

And ever since I turned into a rebellious teenager, I have started sneaking some of their stuff which I thought to able useless and throw it outside, without them knowing obviously. I did this regularly until I moved out of the house a few years ago.

If you wonder —

No. I don’t feel guilty for having done it.

No. My parents still don’t know what I did. Only Jik knew about this well-kept family secret (and now you do).

Only time will tell whether I have inherited the hoarding gene.

And yes. I am obsessed with The Hoarders TV show.