A brief glimpse into a little bit of everything.

I never thought I was extraordinary. I was ordinary in every possible way. I had ordinary hair, ordinary grades, an ordinary physique. Nothing really stood out. Well, that’s what I thought. Life went by, as I grew from a child to a young woman, and it never seemed to slow down. Well, it plays like a heart beat. Some times it beats fast, sometimes it beats slowly. As a teenager, everything went by so fast. I was lost. I honestly did not know who I was. As I shed my childhood skin, only a blank space appeared. It needed to be filled. But as I got distracted by every one’s colours, I was lost as to what were mine. What were my colours. I was confused as I discovered what sexual attraction was. I couldn’t fathom the whistles I was suddenly receiving. It took me some time to realise that I wasn’t a child to people anymore. However, I was still a child to me. And as society responded to the changes of my physique, I was helpless. I was forced into accepting the fact that I was able to attract people, despite not being attracted to anyone myself. The child in me felt her childhood being stolen from her. And I don’t think I could ever forget the feeling of a sudden shift.

During my teenage years I stumbled through what I thought made a woman. Was it the hair ? The short skirts ? The heels ? The make up ? My mother and me never shared a close relationship, she never taught me how to be a woman. I had to learn by myself. Let’s say that nasty looks and sarcastic comments made me reconsider many choices in my appearance. Apart from the appearance, I also had this strong desire to be accepted. This longing to belong crawled under my skin as would a snake in wild bushes. It stayed there, haunted my nights, made me question my worth. This longing made me create different personas. It made me become the funny girl, well, what I thought would be a funny girl. I thought that if I played it cool, and put my friends first, I would receive some validation. However, seeing that nothing I did or said got me closer to my classmates, I decided that school was more important than anything. Friends were overrated. Boys even more. As my friends bragged about the young men they snogged, I was alone in the front of the classroom, eating a homemade sandwich while reading a book. Or I would wander alone in the yard pretending I was going to meet someone. But all I did was walk. I walked every lunch break. I became friends with the lunch lady, with the janitor, with the administrator officers. As I walked I saw those groups of girls, talking empty talks, fully aware that they would rehash the same conversation over the afternoon break to another group. Talking seemed to be more important than listening. And as every girl tried to overtalk the next one, the conversation quickly became loud, as if it was a competition to make the world know that you reached third base with your pre-puber boyfriend.

Oh, I eventually became friends with the teachers. Despite being labelled as an attention seeking geek, I really didn’t give a fuck. I liked discussing with people about things other than boys and other people. With the teachers I felt, for the first time, myself. I wasn’t judged for wanting to discuss further a text we had worked on, or about ways to get better, and overcome my weaknesses. I wasn’t judged for trying to become someone different than what the girls at my school painted me to be. I wasn’t judged for refusing a cigarette, or for refusing to skip a class, or drink alcohol. I could be my innocent self all over again. And I rejoiced in it. I rejoiced in my preserved innocence.

Yes, I was bullied. For as long as I remember I was bullied. Sometimes it happened once a week. Sometimes it happened every day, in tiny doses. The tiny doses were the worst. They were those scoffs, discreet remarks behind my back, the constant undermining of my person as I grew. At some point they didn’t even care that I was in the same room, hearing everything. It was as if I wasn’t worth any bit of respect. I was dirt. But thing is, I didn’t care. What kept me going was the thought that the only person able to destroy me was myself. Any one outside of my body shell had no real power over me. Any action they exerted on me only reflected an aspect of their personality and troubled state. I knew that they were in a place where each one of them had issues, and thus had found a way to handle them. I was the one they decided to spit on, to belittle and to crush the spirit. Have I ever considered suicide ? I think I did. But my will to fight was too strong.

For a long time I felt dead inside. But I knew that I was meant for something greater than myself. That the person who had to endure years of emotional bullying did not deserve to fail. She deserves a brilliant life. And she will get it.


Top 5 rules for a strong relationship.

After much research, observations, real experience and eating a box of Lindt chocolates, here are what I deem to be the top 5 rules of a strong relationship.

1. Accept the differences, embrace what you have in common.                                                        731d325af9a01bfed58f112166f5b6e7_large                                          

In order for a relationship to work, you have to cherish and strengthen the things you have in common, and learn to accept the things you disagree on.
If you keep focusing on your differences, it will weaken the relationship and it will create this sort of negative idea that both of you are unfit to be closer.
Whereas if you focus on the similarities and on the things you share, this will strengthen your dynamic.

If you do not share anything you may decide to start an activity together, such as a weekly tennis practice or Sundays volunteering to help the homeless.

2. Balance desire with feelings.


When you love, how does it feel? And when you desire, how is it different?

Passion is what brings excitement in your life. It is when you feel this thrill. It is craving for the forbidden. Awaking your desire through transgression. And love, love is another story.

Especially in long term relationships, desire is hard to sustain. What needs to be done is a reconciliation of two fundamental human needs. On the one hand, we express a need for security, for predictability, for safety, for dependability, for reliability, for permanence. On the other hand we also have an equally strong need — men and women — for adventure, for novelty, for mystery, for risk, for danger, for the unknown, for the unexpected, you get the gist. 

When you love someone, you need them.

When you desire someone, you want them.

There lies the difference.

Work on the balance of safety and risk, mystery and truthfulness, predictability and the unknown, and the more you’ll be able to come to terms with this highly contradicting field, the more your relationship will thrive.

3. Allow your partner the space to be themselves


Usually we fall in love with someone who seems independent, passionate about something and in charge. Then, usually from the moment we’ve got them, we try to change them. However, doing so will, so to speak, cut their wings off.

Before we met them, they managed quite well before us. But from the moment we met them, we start giving them advice, restricting their choices, sometimes blackmailing them, imposing on them our vision and opinions instead of letting them be. What should be done is for us to stand back and give them the freedom to be themselves.

Tip: In order to do so, think of the time when you fell in love with your partner. What interested you? What attracted you? What was special about them?

Now, look at them. What’s different? What has gone and has been replaced?

You have to take a step back and encourage them to step outside of the cosiness of your relationship and rediscover themselves, their energy, their passion and their skills at being independent. This is healthy. This is good. This is grown-up.

4. Go that extra step in trying to please them.


I am not talking about money here. This is about surprising them, finding little things to delight them. Go beyond what is expected. It is a fantastic opportunity to be creative, adventurous, crazy. Do not wait for birthdays or christmas to give something to your partner. If one day you feel like preparing a special breakfast for them, do it. If you notice how nice they look, tell them. Go to a fancy date just for fun. Plan a trip just to please them. Send them a love letter just because. Light up scented candles on a friday night with some good wine. Do not wait for special occasions, make the occasion special.

5. Knowing when to listen and when to act. 


Some problems do not actually have solutions. That’s why we are told about them. We are only part of the process, and that may concern sympathy, grief, shock, empathy, kindness, emotional advice, handholding, and so on. When your partner is talking to you, try to hold back your advice unless they are asking for it. What they really need is the feeling of being listened to, of not being alone, the feeling that someone is understanding and acknowledging what they are going through. When they look at you expectantly after the talk, instead of giving an opinion, what you should really do is reformulate what they told you in a neutral way and show them that you understood. If what they ask is an opinion or advice, then you can allow yourself to express your thoughts.

8 Types of reactions to the Paris Terror attacks


Since the Paris terror attacks, I have noticed 8 types of behaviour on Social media:

1. The sudden human rights activists

Those who didn’t even follow closely the news in third world countries and suddenly started becoming human rights activists.

2. The muslim haters

Those who already hated muslim people and decided to call all 1.7 billion muslims in the world “terrorists”

3. The “Pray for the world” people

Those who refuse the “pray for paris” slogan, criticise those who post it, and generalise this one event implying that the Paris deaths are ‘small’ compared to everyone else’s in the world.

Note: No death is small.

4. The migrant haters

Those who decided that all migrants are terrorists.

Note: Those migrants are not on some kind of tourist trip. They are actually running from those same terrorists.

5. Those who mark themselves “safe” when they do not even live in France.

This is not some trend. It was actually made for people in a real life or death situation. People like me.

6. Those who do NOT put the French flag on their profile picture and will spend the rest of the month criticising those who did.

Note: (And post a Facebook status justifying it)

7. Those who will share the links of every existing catastrophy on earth to “prove” somehow that there are many more lives lost outside of Paris.

Note: if your actions are done to create awareness, that’s awesome. But if it is to foster hate and criticism, please don’t. There is enough hate already.

While I consider myself as not being part of any of these groups. I believe in one thing, no lives are small. Yes, there are countless of lives lost in several events in the world every day. I am not belittling them in any way. They are as horrible as the deaths in Paris. So, there is no reason to belittle those who lost their lives in Paris. There is also no reason to put the blame on every muslim for the actions of 0.05% of them. They did not deserve it. They have families, work, they worry about taxes, about what they will cook for dinner and about the safety of their children. They are people. And also, there is nothing wrong in supporting Paris. Supporting Paris does not mean you’re NOT supporting the other countries victim of such catastrophies. Instead of condemning those who support Paris, support those countries you are talking about. Do what you are criticising others for not doing. Do something positive and spray peace. That’s all we need right now. Peace. Not division.

Rant. #ParisTerrorAttacks

Let me get one thing straight.

Were there millions of deaths in other countries than Paris? Yes. Did they get as much support as Paris? No. Is it right? No.


Does that make the lives of the parisians less worth it? No. Does their memory have to pay for a shit use of media? No. Do their families have to tone down their pain because other people are dying in other parts of the world? Absolutely not.

We are all human beings. Yes, it is absolutely unfair to the other countries that were attacked and didn’t have as much support as Paris. It is disgusting that the rest of the suffering humanity stays in the dark and are ignored because they are part of “those countries”.

It is however an act of hate to belittle the deaths in Paris just because in other parts of the world it is worse. Death is death. We’re all equal in death. Don’t use this tragic event to make it all about how humanity sucks, thing is, we all know that. You want things to change? Talk about those events. Do something about it. Talk! Why wait for something bad to happen to one of the “big countries” to make it about something else? If the issues in third world countries mattered to you so much you would not have waited the Paris terror attacks to talk about it. All your reaction is showing is hate. And hate is not what we need right now. Hate does not make you better than those selfish people who ignore third world issues.

What you should do is spread love and support. As much to the Parisians as to the families suffering in Syria, to the refugees, to the deaths in Lebanon, to the victims of attacks in Belgium, undernourished african children and exploited young girls under the wrath of Boko Haram.

Hate won’t bring you anywhere. Love will.

1 year in Paris


I am mauritian. I had never stepped foot out of my native country except for three years when I was a baby and my dad had a job in a foreign country. But apart from that, Mauritius had been the only country I had ever known. The beach was something ordinary, common. The scorching sun was a pain I had to deal with every day. I shivered when winter hit us with 16 degrees celsius for about two months every year. Food was abundant, family was everywhere, friends were of several cultures. If your french wasn’t perfect, noone really minded, because you could compensate with your English or your Mauritian creole. If you didn’t hear the muslim mosque call at five a.m it wasn’t normal. If there wasn’t a pilgrimage on the day of the Mahashivahatree it wasn’t normal. If people didn’t walk all the way to the Père Laval cave on the first of september it wasn’t normal.

Culture. That is our treasure.

It’s been one year since I have landed in Paris. And I have learned a few things. You can’t go out with sandals if you feel like it. Wearing three stockings, pants, three t shirts and a jacket is a MUST if you do not want to die of cold. Winter does go below 15 degrees. And snow is something people actually dislike.

Paris has grown on me. And I was able to adapt well after one year. Despite my indian appearance, people often think that I was born here. It’s the accent, they say. I got used to the metro, to the buses, to the tram, to the trains, so many transport facilities that moving around isn’t hard at all. I’ve learned that Paris harbours as much non-french natives as french natives. Here it is normal that students live in a 10 square metre ‘appartment’ for 800 euros a month, depending in which neighbourhood you live of course. The Parisian life is amazing when you’re a student, but since it is a very expensive city, you have to be smart in your way of life.

It teaches you how to grow, how to make decisions, how to get out of your problems when you get into them, how to make friends and keep them, because being alone in a city is not something you’d like to be. 1 year in Paris has taught me how to be a woman, how to handle myself. I got a job, I have my studies, I even volunteer in a hospital. I’d be lying if I said that all of this was easy to handle. I have given up so many times. I have felt depressed, alone, sad, homesick, stressed, tired, scared and weak. I had lost all of the confidence I had gained when I had just finished high school. So today I decided to strip everything I was wearing, put on something new and go out. Giving up was an option I had used and abused too many times. Giving up is okay, making it a habit isn’t. What you have to make a habit is the reflex of getting up and forcing yourself to do something about it. No one on earth is more able to do this than you. If you aren’t willing enough to change your life, no one can force you to. It starts with you. Then everything will be easy compared to the willpower you summoned to move your ass. That’s what I learned today. And that’s what I am sharing with you.


This brief article is posted to mark a break between my past posts and my new ones. A few months have passed since I stopped writing due to a series of events marking changes in my young adult life. Studies, work, change of country, I have met and encountered so many people and so many experiences I wouldn’t be able to recount them in this humble article of mine. I’ll be honest, I should be studying for my Administrative law test for tomorrow. All I wanted to say is that I pledge to write at least one article every day to mark my daily life experiences accompanied by a picture representing my mood. I’ll also have a side research project which will be either on the sociological basis or Emotional counselling. They will be a thorough research on society and all of the factors affecting the particular side of life I am studying.



Two months in Paris

It’s been two months since I’ve been living in Paris. The people are great, the metro station as depressing as ever, the Eiffel Towel shining bright like a diamond, the weather as unstable as pms-ing females and the town as multi-ethnic as my family history.

Among all the things that I would love to talk about, one thing stands higher than the others:
The Stereotypes.

Here’s a little list of what I am used to hear:

“Do you have cheese in Mauritius?”
“Do you have electricity?”
“Wait, you have drinkable water?”
(When a friend forgot my last name) “Well, it’s not my fault, Miss Rikoulélé”
“Here, give me a common Mauritian name” – “Aurelie?” – “Really? No give me a real african one”
“Whoa, I love your accent”
“Not cool man, you’re saying this because she’s black.”
“Do you have famous brands’ shops?”
“Do you have crepes in Mauritius?”
“Coupé décalé”
“Is there TV there?”
“There must be a huge density of people for such a small space”
“We all know you love bananas and coconuts”
“Here, come, do a belly dance”
“Oh, it’s not that I don’t like your french, but “cocasse” and “quitter les affaires en haut” are things that we used to say two centuries back. But I think it’s nice!”
“Do you listen to this type of music in Mauritius?” (A Stromaé song playing)
“Here, sing me a creole song.”
“Do you have nutella there?”
“Doesn’t Mauritius belong to France?”
“Do you live only by sugarcane and pineapples?”
“Do you eat on banana leaves?”
“Do you travel only by bicycles?”

Most of these were said with a humourous undertone, and it was from friends, so there were no mean intentions. However, the mere fact that those were even said shows an underlying similar thought somewhere in their subconcious mind.

On the other side I feel obliged to clear out stereotypes on the French life.

1. Frenchies do not smell. Not those who shower anyway.
2. Not EVERYONE dresses as a fashion model.
3. They are not rude. If you’re nice to them, they won’t be rude to you.
4. I’ve been having dinner with a bunch of french students every night for two months now and I haven’t had a glimpse of snails or frogs in my plate.
5. They rant probably as much as my neighbour back in Mauritius.
6. Wine is not their main beverage.
7. They do like wearing black.
8. Most of them aren’t racist, they just like making racist jokes.
9. The only people I’ve seen wearing berets are japanese tourists.
10. Their notion of partying isn’t limited to wine, cheese and kissing. There are crazy parties where they crash the metro as well. Haven’t had the chance to do one of those though.
11. On the escalator everyone stands on the right to leave those in a hurry to climb the escalator on the left.
12. They eat their cereals with cold milk. Cold milk.
13. They have sweet and salty butter.
14. It’s perfectly normal that one day it is 6 degrees and the next day it gets to 18 degrees.
15. Young people are really active in politics, as compared to Mauritius, where we don’t give much of a f.
16. It’s perfectly normal to see homeless people distributing cards with their name and situation written on them. In French AND English s’il vous plait.
17. “Une plume” is called “stylo” and “Un plumier” is called “Trousse”. Whenever you say “plume” they think of a feather and whenever it’s “plumier” they think of a wooden box dating to five decades back.
18. They always eat cheese after dinner and never at breakfast.
19. Young people always use the expression “Trop stylé”

It’s always funny to debug all of these little stereotypes and seeing reality for what it is. I think we all see foreigners as some sort of aliens and whenever there’s ignorance, we tend to fill this void with some ideas spread by unrealistic and grotesque movies or rumours.

Ah la vie!


One month in Paris.

Funny thing when you’re different in a place where everyone’s practically the same. Actually, no, scratch that.
Funny thing when you’re different in a place where you’d think everyone’s practically the same.
You wouldn’t think of that when you think of Paris. All you see are croissants, hot guys wearing berets, adorned with crème Chantilly and a hilariously delicious accent, who seem to eat cheese every freaking night (At least, that was how I saw them, maybe). But no. What I see here, is an incredible César salad of Africans, Indians (moustache guys throwing dirty looks at me while singing Indian songs in the metro. Yikes.), Arabic people, Turkish, Greek, Italians, Swedish, Chinese, Vietnamese, Lebanese, Japanese, and everything –ese people. And last but not least, the French.
When I first arrived to my apartment, I didn’t feel homesick, because there wasn’t anything that made me feel homesick about. My point is that it was hard finding a Frenchie amongst all the migrants. I don’t see it negatively, I actually think it pretty fascinating, if not completely hilarious. Imagine going in a metro and hearing at least 5 different conversations being conducted in 5 different languages. Once I was going to drop my shopping bags when I heard two fifty-ish guys speaking Mauritian creole just behind me.
In some way I think it’s beautiful, all these colours, all this culture, all this food.
And in some other ways I think it’s hilarious, all these stereotypes, and all these racist comments nobody seems to take seriously. Except me. I guess it’s going to be long before that Mauritian sensibility to racist comments wears off.
What shocked me was how the homeless lived. They have tents. Actual plastic/polyester tents that you bring on camp, with wood underneath to keep you warm. In Mauritius the homeless uses newspaper to put on the streets to sleep.
However I somehow understand why the French aren’t too pleased with having so many migrants concentrated in such a high-valued place. They are losing their identity in some way. It reminds me of the attitude of most Mauritians (Including myself, I admit) who are not too pleased with having so many migrants. Most of us just ignore them. But then again, we do not have a massive amount of migrants either. The little we have are there mostly for doing industrial/ manual work. But imagine if they were as much as the Mauritian population, and you’re lost in a sea of strangers, your Mauritian identity isolating you. You would eventually feel it’s not your country anymore. And I think that’s what some French people are starting to feel. Of course, I am not French, so if we follow my analysis, I am criticising myself. Even if I justify myself saying I came to Paris for my studies, it wouldn’t differentiate me from the rest of the migrants. I may eventually work here, or live here, or anywhere else for that matter. And in some way, I may end up in a place that isn’t my home country. And you know what? Most of the French people I came to know never made me feel like I do not belong here. They surely (and openly) talked about our differences, sometimes shocking me, because I wasn’t used to such openness in Mauritius. But I got to realize the way they matured over the years since immigration started overwhelming their territory. Most of them see you as a person above all. Of course, not everyone is super nice. There are rude people here. But then again, there are rude people everywhere. You may be different, speak a different language, look different, but you both smile when a baby laughs at you, you both complain when the train is late, you both hold the door for the other when you need to go out. And those are the little things that show that we’re all humans.
I suppose it is fun to joke about stereotypes, but once you get to know the real people, you’ll realise that Paris is just breathtakingly real.

Money money money. Must be funny. In a rich man’s world.

Money has crushed all aspects of principles and values that were ever put in place in our society. And although it is an over-talked issue, I have realized that nothing is being done against it. As a young adult, I just left school and got exposed to the whole universe of university application, job interviews and, as much as I hate saying this, the hypocrisy of some “Non-profit” organizations. Gone are the times where altruistic actions were rewarded by genuine gratitude. Instead, money always ends up sneaking its way in, finding an excuse or a justification for somehow overshadowing the real motivations of volunteers who started as being real goodies, but end up swimming in deep-settled greed.

Having been conditioned into respecting certain morals, preached by the ever present media and the Bibble and Babble of family members, I built a strong ethical mind about how any good action is returned by another good one. Karma as they say, or human kindness. But as I finished school, I have been attending several university fairs and conferences, going to meetings and counseling sessions, been drenched in hundreds of freshly printed and colorful pamphlets boasting about the ‘exhilarating environment’ and ‘top-notch’ education quality some university offers. However, the font size used to display the annual fees are much smaller. Not the fees, but the font. Indeed, the thing that most universities won’t point out is how a tertiary education has nearly doubled, targeting internationals to fill in their pockets, seeing us as money-makers instead of the f*cking future generation of leaders and inventors and manufacturers who need training in order to take the reigns in the near future. No, they don’t care about what we can offer but about what we can pay. You can’t pay for college? Apply for a scholarship, along with the other 100 000 something internationals who also are dead-anxious about their uncertain future. There is no logical equality. Free schooling they say, free transport, free food, but no free future. Work hard they say, you’ll be rewarded. Rewarded with stress and uncertainty and a deep feeling of unfairness is more like it.

I’m not saying all universities are evil masterminds. But they are demanding. Education shouldn’t even have to be paid for in the first place. Education is the passing of knowledge. How is one more eligible to inherit knowledge than someone else?  The differential of social class or social background is invalid, illogical, and highly irrelevant.

Worst of all is the whole Mauritian mindset of ‘backing’ which falls directly into the corruption furry ball. I want to apply to a job and get accepted because of my merits, not because I am the cousin of someone’s step-daughter. This situation got so bad that i was even told, by several people, that backing is the only way to get a job or a promotion. And that I have no choice or equal alternative to it. This is ridiculous. How do you expect to maintain an up-and-running system of quality if all you do is backing up stupid lazy-tards with more family members than one could count. And how do you expect to work with qualified and trained colleagues or employees if their only talent is negotiating the extra money paid to have reached where they are. Send them to a hostage hold-up or to the Port Louis bazaar, at least their ‘negotiation’ will do some good for the society.







Wanna get in shape? Don’t stop eating!

Most of us nowadays are more health-conscious. But well, we’re also liars. We also want to get hot.

Thing is, there are good and bad ways to get hot. People tend to be ignorant whenever diet or exercise is concerned.

First thing, do not stop eating! Drastic changes in your diet will only confuse your body and cause all sorts of deficiencies (B12 deficiency, immuno deficiency, anemia, heart disease, among others). Eat the right things. Plan your diet, balance it with all the required nutrients. That is, fibres, cholesterol, omega 3, vitamins, particularly B12 (if you decide to become vegan). Personally i did that mistake. I thought, if I ate less, I’d gain less weight. I’d lose that belly. But no. It only makes you feel drowsy and groggy. You lose energy and it slows down your mental capacity. People around you will also get worried since it looks like you’re starving yourself…only to swallow a whole hamburger when nobody’s watching.

Finally I’ve realized that I need to carefully choose what to put in my body. And eat lots of fruits and veggies…since I’ve chosen to become a vegan. Not one of those preachy ones (it’s okay if you’re one). I’ll leave one day for me to eat anything (meat, cheese, whatever) and the remaining 6 days of the week will be totally vegan. I personally do this because I really need to get in shape. I’m not fat or anorexic but I feel that my health isn’t great and if I want to feel good in my mind, I need to feel good in my body. Of course, it won’t be easy. I actually haven’t told my family yet. Pretty difficult task, they do not like changes…and are most likely to laugh at me and bet I wouldn’t be able to handle a week of vegan diet. But I want to be healthy. And funny thing, they’re the ones criticizing me for not eating enough veggies. When I decide to listen, they refuse to believe it. Well well well, I wonder how they’ll react. The tough thing maybe will be when I’ll go to restaurants or hang out with friends. I’ve read articles where some vegans shared their discomfort at having to be some sort of inconvenience to friends if they’re invited to dinner. It’s also hard for me because I just love cooking. And if I cut off cheese and meat and butter from my diet, it will restrict (by a lot) the choices I have in my recipe books (thank goodness there are vegan ones) Being vegan may seem unhealthy to many. But if you know how to handle the diet, it is perfectly fine, and healthy. You need to do lots of research if you’re serious about it. For those who don’t know about it, vegans need to provide sources of: Vitamin B12, Iodine, Vitamin D and Omega 3.

And if you don’t want to look too skinny, balance it with proteins and healthy fats. Personally, doing regular exercise is crucial to really be in shape (still looking for a good gym). But in the meantime, trying to work out at home.

Well, I think it’s pretty much all of what I have to say for today.

Have a great day 🙂