Also known as Dory*

I am the most forgetful person on the planet. Seriously, I can open a door and forget whether I'm coming in or going out. I have dialled numbers then forgotten who I was calling. I've forgotten the names of classmates I'd studied with for 4 years, a month after graduation (truly embarassing story that), and I've spent hours searching for keys that were in my hand. Okay wait, that's not lousy memory, just plain stupidity. But anyway, if there was a Queen of the Forgetful, I'd be her. Or she'd be me. Whatever.

Now where was I?

Less than a week ago, I'd told my mother and sister some hot new gossip. "Are you serious?" my sister had exclaimed, "Shocking!" Last night, she repeated that same little tidbit to me. (It's obviously genetic.) "Seriously?" I asked incredulously, "That's shocking!"

Our mother looked on in bemusement.

*Dory the fish from err... whatchamacallit... Finding whatshisname? Right. Finding Nemo.

The bun in the oven

My sister is pregnant. At 23.

I'm in shock, my hands shake as I write this.

I don't know why I'm so upset/ shocked/ nervous/ anxious (insert any other applicable adjective. Insert the whole bloody thesaurus in here). I mean she IS married, it's not like she'll be a single mom or anything. She got married less than a year ago and although it's way (way) (WAY) too soon, I know they're both happy about it.

Calm down. Breathe deep. WHY am I so upset?!

They're happy. Ecstatic. She's excited.

I know I'm worried that she's not healthy enough to carry a baby; she's too thin, too young, too not-sure-what-she-wants-from-life. But I think my dismay stems from my own deep, dark, selfish reasons. The fact that I'm 25, no wedding bells on the horizon - not even close, and definitely no baby. I have a long way to go before I can catch up.

Life is changing way too friggin fast.

Stop the world God, I need a commercial break.

History of Me.

Well not really. But since beginnings tend to be a little awkward (and I really don't know how to start this off), I'll tell you a bit about who I am and where I come from. I live in a coastal East African city - yes that's right, miles and miles of white sandy beaches and coconut trees and long, hot, sunny days... spent confined in a tiny little airconditioned office.

I'm quarter-Indian, quarter-Pakistani and quarter-exotic-African-Island*. Okay i know that only makes three-fourths, but I never said I was a math genius. My dad, born in said exotic-African-island, of Indian immigrant parents who had set out to East Africa in a dhow from India in hopes of fame and fortunes. Well, fortunes really. They were never really the publicity crazy type.

My mother of Indian-Pakistani origin met my dad at a wedding, they smiled at each other across a crowded room and thus I was born. Not immediately ofcourse. After a wedding and a decent interval. And another baby.

And this blog is born to tell my story. Also because everyone is entitled to my opinions.

*Names and places have been kept confidential to protect the identity of this writer. 'Cause who knows what I might want to blab in future. [Just because you aren't paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get you.]