Bonds of love......

"Valentine’s Day is when a lot of married men are reminded what a poor shot Cupid really is.”

~Unknown

The moment I say I am from India, most people ask me if I have visited the Taj Mahal. My answer to them is usually a sheepish "no". Being an only child, you tend to be overcompensated in some areas - in my case, my mom's over-protectiveness. Fearing that some calamity might befall her only progeny, she always made sure I never left her sight, thus curbing any kind of travel that might take me away from her. Yet, as weird as parents can be, she sent me several thousand kilometres apart, entrusted into the care of someone she had hardly met, in the name of marriage. Even after crossing over to the other side of the parenting fence, I still find it hard to comprehend the oddity of parents. But yeah, I am digressing as usual.....anyway back to the legend of the Taj.

There are historical claims that this ancient mausoleum once used to be a Hindu temple, but the obvious story known to the world is that this architectural wonder was built as an "elegy in marble" by a Mughal emperor for his dear wife and queen Mumtaz Mahal. Now any woman with a few grey cells (and a few grey hairs perhaps) might wonder why such an elaborate and elegant gift to a wife without any strings attached, especially a posthumous gift.....and especially this being a Muslim king with a penchant for women. Well, we all know the famous adage "love is blind", so lets skip reading the fine print. However despite my jaded outlook, the splendour of Taj Mahal has remained undiminished and has always been known as a symbol of love and an eternal tribute of a husband's loyalty and love to his wife.

So yesterday I wake up and still snuggled warm under the covers, ask my hubby about Valentine's day. It is something that we have never paid any attention to all our married life and this year was not going to be any different. But then some women are very optimistic and I happen to be one of them, ah well atleast lately :) He then tells me that if he had the money, he would build me a room fitted with all kinds of technological gadgets to keep me amused and cater me with all facilities. There would literally be no need to step out of the room for anything.

Even before I could revel in the pleasure his words bring me, my last (and least) remaining grey cells kick into action and still hazy, I open my eyes just in time to watch that cheeky smile flitting across his face. Ha, my female counterparts, aren't we so used to looking the gift horse in the mouth :) I usually like to have my sleep-ins during the weekends, so the kids and hubby are used to having some peace and quiet in the house till I wake up. Once I am up, then being a compulsive cleaning freak, I start fretting about things strewn about and the house being in a mess. Generally my weekends start with my whining decibels higher than the whirring of any cleaning equipment I am operating.

So when my darling hubby dreams of having me interred in my sophisticated and modern mausoleum, my warning bells do go ringing big time. And there I was imagining my own Taj Mahal, when all he wanted was to turn me into another Mrs.Rochester :) Now you wonder why I treat the story of the Taj Mahal with a liberal dash of the salt !!! I look at him balefully and before I slink back under the covers I tell him not to forget to add a connecting door to the garage from my room. He then breaks into a big goofy grin that I cannot resist returning.

Life with me is a bed of roses........what, can't I pretend for a while.......allright, it is rather a bed of rose shrubs, beautiful as it is with blooming blossoms, you also have the thorns to contend with. But my personal gardener, given his saintly patience has taken care of the shrub, tending to it day and night and giving his utmost care. At times the bush tends to run wild but he prunes it, despite the thorns that leave him bleeding, and shapes it in a way that makes not just his heart to glow but also brings the beauty of that rose-plant to the world.

Nobody is perfect, but with the true sense of hope and faith and a dash of love, one can see beyond the other's imperfections. After all isn't the message of Valentine's day that of promise and hope???

Happy Roses, my gardener :)

Et tu Brute???

"I know you feel betrayed."
"Well, yes, that is one of the unpleasant side effects of betrayal."
— from Buffy the Vampire Slayer

When I was a kid my dad used to push me into taking part in mono-acting competitions.......well literally at times. I remember hovering near the doors refusing to enter the room. It wasn't stage fright that had me petrified but the fear of being pelted with rotten tomatoes or eggs while I stood there spouting Shakespeare. My dad's fascination with the great bard used to land me in hot water all the time.

It was hard enough playing a single role in these plays, but try alternating between different characters - I always ended up emptying the rooms of their audiences pretty quickly. There was always a stupefied silence that greeted me at the end of my plays and it had very little to do with my thespian skills.....it was siesta time to the remaining members thanks to my dad and Shakespeare. Well, I seem to be getting off the tangent here - my post has nothing much to do with any of any this, except that it was there that I learnt to memorize the famous words of Caesar when he confronted Brutus. "Et tu, Brute?" has now become synonymous with every single betrayal out there. Perhaps if Shakespeare had managed to be born in the right era, his words would have been apt for the crown-jewel of betrayals leading the King of Kings to his Crucifixion.

Why talk about betrayals today? Look around the world and you would see its seal stamped on every single aspect of life - with friendships and relationships bearing the worst brunt of it. No arena is exempt from this sneaky intruder - religion, politics, work or social life. Currently in the political world, I can see President Mubarak endorsing the words in this blog.....he probably sees the stance taken by the US as betrayal while the latter continues its ideological stance. As for the pro-democrats, well, that would be an entirely different story. However, let me not dabble in the irrational field of politics, especially the Middle-East, but instead continue with my rambling.

Little does one realise that life is nothing but a sequence of mono-acting sessions where you get to play different characters with passing of time and emotions. Perhaps we all get to play Caesar and Brutus in real life, sometimes ironically both roles in the same shoes. Victims or perpetrators of betrayals at one time or the other….I bet you don’t reach my age without going through a few of them. By all means I am no exception to these....as the years sped by relieving me of my naivety and innocence, I grew accustomed to betrayals - even learnt to dole out a few, but mind you they were more opportunistic or unintentional in nature than premeditated, not that they mitigated the guilt or remorse any better on my side or mollified the wronged party.

So here comes my question, does one ever get used or numbed to the sting of betrayal? Amorphous in nature, betrayals are not easy to be divined. A snub, a stance, a word, a broken promise, a selfish agenda, a hasty judgement, a kiss.......even silence, they do come in all shapes and guises, sprung upon on unsuspecting souls. The hapless victim gets ensnared in a web of deceit and falsehood or unmet expectations, with the only exit doors marked “betrayal” leading to a dark world of bitterness and ultimate disillusionment. And just when one would have found the strength to crawl back in the world of living, bingo…….another betrayal!!!

But hey, playing the devil's advocate, is life any better for the Judases of this world? There is very little said of our anti-hero in the Bible but passages do indicate that he paid for the price of iniquity and how.......with his own life. Perhaps the tiny voice of his conscience that he failed to quell emboldened into a full-sized jury condemning him to self-castigation. I most definitely would like to claim selective amnesia and not recall the tales of Lady Macbeth or that of Brutus (thank you Dad).......but nevertheless one cannot deny these prime examples of guilt, unable to come to terms with the consequences of their acts........ah remorse, what a killer emotion are thou?

Well, who are we after all to complain about betrayals in today’s world of fragile and ever-shifting affiliations and priorities? The Lord himself was not exempt from this affliction and I am not referring just to Judas here........despite theologists rendering different interpretations to the words of Jesus on the Crucifix "Oh God Oh God, why has thou forsaken me?", the feelings of abandonment and disillusionment that Jesus experienced during His last hours have set a precedent for most mortals on this earth.

But yet we learn to continue on this life's journey to where it takes us........definitely more jaded, more wary but definitely a lot wiser. Happy Trails !!!!

Mother Nature versus Us - Part 2

For the last few days, the only sentences I have heard the hubby utter has been "flood", "once in 100 years", "arrgh no once in 200 years", accompanied by a whole heap of "oh no" and sighing, every time the TV has been turned on. We are people who have been sheltered from the vagaries of nature all our lives, hence it has been hard to get a grasp on what has been happening around us. Hardly had we recovered from the news of Brisbane devastation, when we realised that Horsham was next on the hit list. One minute, the river is flowing calmly and the next you know it is has broken its bounds like a rebel child. The sheer dread and apprehension that ran in the people was something so palpable.......but yet not easy to understand if you haven't been in Horsham the last few days.

Phones have been ringing, messages left on my wall, friends enquiring anxiously about what's happening.......and most of them from a ravaged Brisbane......in the light of what had happened to them, this was hardly in the league of such devastation but still the sheer amount of water that people kept bailing out of their properties to safeguard their houses was something a drought stricken Horsham had not seen in decades. Isn't it true, when it rains, it always pours.......Lady Bountiful had indeed been extremely generous to Horsham :(

I have been here only 9 months, but am amazed at the amount of battering this tiny town has taken. I entered the town when it was plagued by mice......everywhere u turned, u were greeted by stink and droppings. Then when people were ready to heave a sigh having wiped them out, there came the locusts. Yep, I can see you saying "so what"? For the unwary out there, do not ever drive into a town that is plagued with locusts if you do not want your car to look like a battered vehicle out of a sci-fi movie. I was perhaps too quick in admiring the gossamer wings of the locusts in the twilight till I was snapped out of my dreamer's reverie and had to look at them for what they were, especially when your windshield is at the mercy of a swarm. Forget about them being a driving nuisance, they were every farmer's nightmare, given that Horsham is mainly an agricultural town.

Then came the rains atleast by when most of us were grateful that the harvest were done. Sadly there is trouble with the storm water drainage in this town which meant you have a solid downpour and you are forced to sandbag your property the very next day. The unprecedented downpour unfortunately caused every creek, stream and river to overflow and then came the floods :( The danger of floods have receded in Horsham, however other nearby towns are taking a beating as we speak.

I have heard of the biblical plagues that the Lord sent down to afflict the land of Egypt, wonder what his agenda against Horsham was this time. The Black Saturday fires was yet another tragedy this town had to endure two years ago. It is sad to see that the residents of this town have been exposed to one problem after the other with no respite in sight. However I also have to say that every single time this town has taken a beating, it has rallied back, bounced back with its resilient community spirit to stand for each other in times of need and support.

Mmm, who said country living was quiet living????

Mother Nature versus Us.....

“He who sees the calamity of other people finds his own calamity light.”

- Arabian proverb"

The week dawned as usual, but for some, it has been the harbinger of calamity. Mother Nature has unleashed her fury on unsuspecting crowds in this part of the world in the form of internal tsunami's and flash floods. Brisbane, the city where I had lived for almost 13 years and had called home is in the throes of facing its worst natural disaster since 1893. Over the last few days, areas of south-east Queensland have been facing a terrible ordeal - huge torrential rains causing unexpected and astounding amount of devastation. Everywhere you turn, you see news alerts and media pictures of floods and impending disaster.

The death toll is rising steadily with no immediate reprieve seen to stanch the number of people who have been reported missing. Even innocent little kids are not spared - young lives snatched away by the cold hands of watery death. Most people who have managed to flee the unrestrained vehemence of the floods are seen waiting on rooftops to be air-lifted by rescue helicopters, with no single possession on them, except for their resolute will to stay alive. Entire communities have been cut-off, people left with no roofs over their head, properties and infrastructure damaged gravely - entire car parks vanishing into thin air within minutes......and the alarming story still continues. The torrential downpour shows no signs of ceasing nor the fury of the raging waters seem to be abating. The embankment dam, which is Brisbane's main defense against a catastrophic flood is facing its ultimate test amidst alarmingly rising catchment levels. The emergency crews are doing their utmost to save lives and evacuate people to safety with huge support and backing from both state and federal governments.

The latest telecast shows that people have been panicking and stocking up supplies - supermarkets running out of batteries, bread and bottled water supplies. It sadly reminds one of the fleeing scenes in all those apocalyptic movies, unfortunately here the drama is unfolding in real life. Those who have not been evacuated are waiting in dread and sheer apprehension as the floods are expected to peak in certain areas tonight. As the state is gearing for the worst, we all know it does not end here. Once the rains stop and the floods recede, other problems like water-borne diseases are going to surface as a consequence. But is that all? What about the intangible effects of such natural disasters?

We see families stranded with nothing - the total sum of their lives washed away in a single night. If footages of flood-wrecked homes and possessions can bring tears to the eyes of viewers, people totally and completely distanced, both physically and emotionally from the disasters, one cannot imagine the amount of devastation it is going to cause in the people actually experiencing it. It is hard to comprehend such tragedy; people usually find it a struggle to come to terms with what has happened or understand why it has happened? The question always remains - why us? Looking for intention or purpose or cause is not going to diminish the sense of loss, on the other hand it only enhances the inadequacy of the situation.

However, it is in the wake of such disasters where man is constantly reminded of his pitiful struggle and helplessness against Nature that the resilience of human spirit also comes to light. Communities have been rallying, garnering their resources to pit against the forces of Nature and in the wake of their strength and collective spirit, humanity finds a way to survive. The emergency services crew mostly comprising of selfless and magnanimously altruistic volunteers seem to keep the people's hopes buoyant with their relentless support and rescue efforts.

Who has not a problem in their lives? But it is such disasters that serve as eye-openers and truly ask us to have a closer look at our issues and reconsider the gravity of our own problems. In situations of life or death, everything else pales into insignificance - tonight it is raining cats and dogs in Horsham and this little town gets easily flooded even by the slightest downpour, so who knows what tomorrow brings, given the way life changes dramatically? Maybe life's harshest experiences are there to teach us a lesson - perhaps we are meant to learn to value life as it is meant to be and get our priorities right.

Take a minute to think of the lives wasted, potential wasted, especially those young lives cut too short........is there anything else that is worthier or precious than a life? And yet we do everything humanly possible to make it complex and miserable........if there is anything that such incidents teach us, it is to learn to live our life to the fullest......er, read the small print, in a productive manner :)

My prayers to the families affected by the floods.

Ho Ho Ho......

"I once bought my kids a set of batteries for Christmas with a note on it saying, toys not included."
- Bernard Manning

Earlier this week, I heard my husband opening the connecting door between the garage and our house and call out to the kids. The hushed excitement in his voice made me look up from my customary seat on the couch and crane my neck to see what he was holding in his hands. The kids swarmed to him and started jumping up and down looking at the long red package he had. My curiosity got the better of me and I too walked up to them just in time to see them rip open the package and spill the contents out. Lo behold, it was a Christmas Tree.

Christmas period has always been my favourite time of the year. At school, the end of half-term always coincided with Christmas holidays and despite the exams around that time, the school atmosphere was always festive and celebratory leading to the Christmas pageant. Besides in the Hindu culture that I was raised in, this month had a deep religious significance wherein most of the young girls in the neighbourhood would actively showcase our skills in Rangoli - the traditional decorative Indian art. So the month of December has always been associated with some great memories for me - Christmas carols, Nativity play, Rangoli, temples and holidays.

Christmas downunder
After I moved to Australia, Christmas season became even more magical - the Christmas window displays and the lights in the city and the neighbourhood during this season has never failed to infuse me with such pleasure. Of course, the sales everywhere drawing people to spend more money in retail therapy was an added bonus. Work also got more relaxed during Christmas time - it is indeed a sluggish period with very little work done for most office-goers as people generally wind down this time of the year or get pre-occupied planning their shopping-lists and holiday trips. And then comes the much anticipated Christmas party at work where without fail, more alcohol and less inhibition always keep the gossip mills churning the most embarrassing moments of certain office legends till the next party.

But despite the festivity in the air during this period, in all my thirteen years of living abroad, Christmas was more of a spectator event. The tradition of gift-giving and its significance was totally lost on my husband and me. Despite the entire city in celebrations, there were several of us belonging to different religions, different ethnicities, different countries unable to participate or fit completely into the festivities of the mainstream culture. In the end Christmas season just became a holiday period for us more than anything else.

After the kids were born, I used to indulge in getting gifts for them on Christmas Day so they do not feel isolated or left out, when they came home with stories of Santa and Christmas gifts. Eventually this too had kind of petered out. I occasionally used to feel twinges of guilt remembering my own delight in celebrating festivals back home while my kids here were growing up with not much knowledge of their own culture nor that of their inherited one. Despite attending Indian community gatherings and activities organised for the Indian festivals, there was something vital and organic missing while we celebrated festivals outside of our homes.

A new tradition??
So this year when my husband walked in with a Christmas tree which is a first in all these 13 years, I looked at him quite surprised at his gesture. Amidst the excited chatter and delightful shrieks, I feel a slight prickling of tears at the back of my eyes and with a catch in my voice, I ask him "why"? He smiles and replies that the kids asked for it which I knew was not the entire truth. This year my 5 yr old had taken part in a Christmas concert at his daycare and so Anna was subjected to a choir singing every night. Mugi's own lisped rendering of the Christmas carols strengthened by the sweetness of Madhu's voice and occasionally thrown out of whack by my own out-of-tune contribution must have touched a chord in him - the familial atmosphere gladdening his heart. After the ups and downs we have had as a family this year, the simple delight in singing songs of joy during the festive season has managed to bring a sense of normalcy into our lives and perhaps it was his token of gratitude to the kids. Whatever his reasons were, we were all thrilled to have a Christmas tree in the house. Ever since that night, the kids have been writing long lists to Santa though I seriously pity Santa having to read my 5 yr old's mirror style writing :)

It is Christmas Eve and as I maneuver amidst the frantic crowds that throng the shopping mall for their last minute Christmas shopping, I see a myriad of emotions on display. Of course the scenes aren't picture perfect - disgruntled parents, grizzly kids, frayed tempers, tired employees but still beneath all this, lies the unshakable festive spirit that would see them back into the welcoming arms of their families and friends the next day.

Every culture/religion has its own major festivals breaking the monotony of everyday life and encouraging people to exercise more humanity and generosity by traditions of gift-giving and celebrations. But I guess the festival gathers its life-force only when celebrated in whole and not in isolation. Perhaps I should take the kids home during a festival to get in touch with their own roots. In the meantime I cannot wait to see the kids rush to the Christmas tree tomorrow morning and rip open their packages that my husband and I had wrapped after they had gone to bed - merry Christmas to all :)

The God complex.......

"You know the only people who are always sure about the proper way to raise children? Those who’ve never had any."
--Bill Cosby, Fatherhood

Child of the 20th century !!!

I am a child of the 20th century......in our growing up years, most kids from my generation had a lot of things to be grateful for, especially the simple joys of childhood. Unlike the wired generation, our childhood days weren't influenced mightily by technology. We did not grow up with iPods or mobiles or the net, cocooning ourselves indoors with electronic entertainment. On the other hand, summer holidays usually saw us playing with the neighbouring kids on the streets - the usually deserted back streets filled with our raucous laughter and shrieks of delight. Even my usually over-protective parents never said no to the summer fever that usually gripped us once schools closed.

Usually during these jaunts when almost every single kid in the street used to be outdoors, I used to spy this little boy, several years younger than me, standing behind the wrought iron grill gates of his house, watching us with undisguised longing on his tiny face. Moved by the beseeching look on his face, some of us used to knock on his doors and request his parents to send him to play with us. His pleas even when coupled with our entreaties never made any difference, he was never allowed to play with us - the unruly and boisterous kids were considered to be a bad influence. Instead he was plied with more books and interesting toys and usually spent his holidays at his grandparents with hardly any kids around to break the monotony and loneliness of his childhood. The kid was very much under the thumb of his father - while some of us were experimenting in asserting our little rebellious self against our parents and building our quasi independent streaks, he grew up to be a very pliant and docile child.

Years later, with the wheels of time spinning faster than ever for some of us, we all went our separate paths. Most of us ended up moving overseas or working for huge IT companies away from home. As for me, I married and moved to Australia, placing several thousands of kilometers between me and home. Occasionally I used to hear tidbits about the kids I grew up with while I spoke with my mother or visited home. However, when my own trips back home became less and less frequent, the stories diminished too. I had completely lost track of this little boy(who apparently is no longer little), till recently, when my mother told me a few days ago, that he had flipped and lost his mind and was found to be a physical threat to his parents.

As I was sitting there digesting the news, dealing with the flashbacks my memory threw back at me, I could hear my mother rant about the misfortune of such a polite and well-mannered boy pushed to deteriorating mental health because of his domineering parents. I cocked an eyebrow at that talk - obviously my mother had forgotten her own role in molding my character :) Years ago I would have readily jumped to conclusions, willing to try any parent on the stand but today as a parent I force myself to see the two sides of the coin before I castigate any party.

The jury is still out on parents..........

Everyone seems to have an opinion of how others should raise their kids except for their own. It is easier to stand at the periphery and spout advices on how one needs to live or raise their kids, unfortunately what works for one does not necessarily work for another. Most parents live in dread of failure of their parenting skills; unfortunately we live in a world where every social problem is attributed to bad parenting - I guess I do not have to emphasize what huge albatrosses some of us have to carry around our necks, especially with both nature and nurture working against us. Some of my friends comment at times the projectiles coming out of their mouths and aimed at their kids eerily trigger feelings of deja vu......now why is that not surprising at all, after all some of us do emulate our own parents despite our best attempts !!!

Most parents strive to provide the best for their kids, some to the detriment of their own personal desires and aspirations, but yet not all of them are successful in raising good kids. My heart bleeds for my broken little friend who used to go around calling me sis - like the most delicious fruits subjected to worms, some of the sensitive and delicate minds are broken easily by complex phenomenons of this life; and yet at the same time my heart reaches out to those parents who are grappling with the aftermath of their parenting consequences and wondering where they had gone wrong. I know for a fact, that these hard-working and modest people have devoted their entire lives for raising their kids and yet somewhere along the way, by imposing their will on this kid, managed to unhinge him completely. No solace can be given to their grieving hearts; if parenting was a taught skill, these parents would have queued at the head of these lines with the sincere intention of giving their utmost best for their kid. Unfortunately it is not an art that can be learnt, most of us do it by trial and error keeping every single part of our body crossed hoping it works for us. While some are naturals at it, some struggle at it as being dropped in the deep end.

So am I preaching the tenets of parental catechism now??? I don't think so.......do I have any brilliant insights or answers to provide as part of this article; most likely not.........however what I would like to get across is despite our best intentions to do the best by our kids, we come under a lot of scrutiny and judgment. It is just not non-parents, but even other parents are quick to judge their peers because it is true, in some ways we have the capacity to make or break our kids. Perhaps we ought to take a step back, spend a few precious moments at this juncture and revisit our parenting styles and see if it works for the best towards our kids. Twenty years down the track, you do not want to be found guilty in the eyes of your kids.......or spend a life in remorse, waiting for that second chance that will never materialise.

If we insist on playing God with our kids, at least let us make sure it is a guiding and forgiving one .......rather than a judging or a denying God. Good luck !!!!

The 10 commandments of travel for women........

"When preparing to travel, lay out all your clothes and all your money. Then take half the clothes and twice the money." -- Susan Heller

I live in a small haven of beauty and harmony, right in the middle of nowhere which is perfectly fine if you want to get out of the rat race. But occasionally once in a while I do have to touch base with civilization and that's when it gets real tough. Driving 4-5 hrs to get to the nearest airport is definitely not how I would like to start my travel, but that's exactly what I have been forced to do lately.

If you are like me cosseted by male folks around you all your life ( I had a chauffeur for a push bike in one of my past lives), going away on a trip on your own may sound daunting even if it is just an over-nighter or an interstate one. I am now listing some bloopers that have caused me sufficient embarrassment and anxiety especially when travelling on a flight, and hoping that my words, even if they do not provide much insight, might at least bring a few giggles to my female counter-parts.

Thou shalt not commit the travel faux-pas
Unless you can carry off travelling with a broken travel case as the latest fashion in jet setting, check your travel case for broken handles or wheels. This check becomes mandatory especially if the last person to take the travel case was a male member of the family.

Thou shalt not assume the role of damsel in distress
Travelling light, especially when you are on your own is a sacred commandment to be heeded. Once you have packed your travel case, try lifting it above your heads, simulating stowing away the case on an overhead locker. If you are struggling, then it is your cue to remove those extra tops you have packed for an over-nighter. Mmm, is this because chivalry is slowing dying in this world….not likely, I would like to put my money’s worth on another plausible explanation…. most men are cautious and wary when offering their support as they do not want their actions to be misinterpreted as a sexist intention. Anyway why don’t we avoid further controversy and pack bags that we can carry?

Thou shalt heed the voice of the GPS
As the self-appointed navigator in the house, I still resist getting a GPS. A kind friend at work, worried that I was travelling alone, lent me her GPS. Now I had already done my home-work and knew the route I was taking – unfortunately the GPS and I were not seeing eye-to-eye on this front. As a result, I was constantly admonished and asked to throw myself on the railway track or do an about-turn in the middle of nowhere.

So if you are travelling with a GPS, throw away your inner compass and rely on the GPS to take you safely to your destination. Also if you are lead-footed like myself or just happen to drive a cop-magnet, it would help to pay heed to your GPS about speeding and camera alerts. You do not want your speeding tickets reaching home before you do, right?

Thou shalt use judgment for airport parking
For those travelling in your own car and struggling with the alien concept of parking, most airports make it even more confusing by providing short-term and long-term parking. Ensure you have picked the right parking lot as different prices are charged……believe me it takes the whole fun out of sale fares when you realise you have to pay double for parking.

Thou shalt not wear boots while travelling
I love my knee high boots, however being stopped and asked to remove them every single time I step through the airport detector, does not make them the perfect travelling companion. Especially when you are already late and rushing to catch your domestic flight, the last thing you want is to be stopped at customs and asked to remove your shoes. If you do share an umbilical cord relationship with your boots, at least make sure you have ones that you can remove and slide back on easily.

Thou shalt pick the front seats for domestic travel
If you are given the option of choosing your seats, opt for the ones in the front. Most domestic carriers flying out of small airports do not offer the flexibility of aero or jet bridges. Prepare yourself for the short walk on the tarmac and up the flight of stairs which is why it is preferable to choose a seat in the front of the flight rather than the back. You also won’t be subjected to the propeller or jet blast while embarking/disembarking from flights that still have their engines running.

That shalt learn to feed thy automobile
If are you anywhere like me getting your husband to fuel/clean/park the car whilst you just busy yourself with the only task of driving, it might help once in a while to learn how to fuel your car. This knowledge is vital especially when you notice that 20 or more cars have already passed you while you stand there, making a spectacle of yourself, battling with the pump and avoiding it getting jammed. Perhaps learning to read the fuel signs rather than going with just the nozzle colours might also help or else you would be spending a few extra dollars loading premium unleaded into your car.

Thou shalt travel with food, water and medicines
For those hitting the road for long hours after being on a flight, ensure that you load, if not yourself at least your car with sufficient water and food. Shelling out for medicine and food on the wayside convenience stores for more than what they are worth for would only exacerbate your headache. Besides stopping at these highway depots attracts unnecessary attention to yourself and the fact that you are travelling alone.

Thou shalt not covet your neighbour’s book
If you are like me who is incapable of staying still or falling asleep in a flight, then do remember to take some music or books with you especially when you are flying on those domestic flights where in-flight entertainment is not provided. Unless you have metaphysical powers or dabble in the darker arts and have mastered the act of coercing your neighbours to hand over their books or magazines to you, I would strongly advise you to travel with one.

Thou shalt be home-bound
Of course there is always this option available to you – weigh your alternatives while considering a travel and see if you can utilise technology, minimise travel and save yourself the hassle and costs associated with this.

That's it for now - feel free to add your own tips to this post. I am sure we will all benefit from a bit of free advice :)