Being in her Shoes

Have 42 minutes to spare before the last 11days of our stay here in Australia, turns all hectic again. Just flew in from Canberra -- sorry; no internet access. We are now in South Australia, Adelaide. The sun is sunny and bright, but the wind is chilly....I've got to be more careful as this confuses the brain -- Basking under the noon sun is deliciously warm ( I can't stand the cold- my thumbnails turn purplish blue!), but the uv rays are bad, bad, BAD! With my shades, hat and sunblock on, I headed out for recce with the crew cause my hotel room was not ready.

During the drive past the well planned streets of Adelaide, my mind went back to my distraughted feelings yesterday, when the crew and I shot our show at the AustralianWarMemorial in Canberra. The vibes of blood, cruelty and gore just left me emotionally drained and I had to refrain many a times during camera roll not to vomit or cry my distressed-self out. I couldn't help it. I cried during one of my standuppers. Tears, snot and hiccups.

Being a nerd and all, I LOVE museums. So I was pretty excited to see this memorial that I have heard so much of. Apparently, the exhibits shown are just 8 to 10% of what they have in the warehouse. And it takes one at least 2 and a half days to fully comprehend each and every bit of the artifacts and exhibits displayed. So you can imagine my delight when I saw the itinery for Canberra.

The presentation of the artifacts were organized and systematic. As I mustered enough courage to continue the walk with the crew, I slowly dispersed to another world of fragile pain and courage. I could hear the guide talking and saw Nazzie and Alvin taking excited shots of the museum, but I could also softly hear cries of pain and smell the dirt, dried blood and tears of women, children and men who braved the war because surrending is "not appeasing" and frankly-- did they have a choice?

After watching the outstanding sound and light show presentation on this Avro Lancaster B1, known with affection as G for George, I knew it was time to stop drying up my tears and hiding it from the team. I am not sure if that standupper will be used as I was feeling awfully tearful and I was just too damn angry with the cruelty and greed of men to feign a 'normal presenter-like' voice. Why we hate one another is strange. Why are we so judgemental? Why are we so quick to point a finger at someone else's flaw but fail to see the flaw within our sinful self left me guilty and upset; angry and bewildered.

Don't get me wrong. I have had my share amount of slamming another, failing to realize my silly faults and actions. But as time passes, with travel, quiet time reflecting with the Almighty alone and understanding oneself, forgiving oneselves wrongs -- you wisen up. Or so I think I have.

I went for sunset mass last saturday and walked all the way back to the hotel. I couldn't get a cab, but I had eaten a heavy lunch prior to mass, so the long walk was quite pleasant. I enjoyed the sunset and the cool Canberra breeze and sang some of the hymns sung earlier. It (again) hit me on our prayer before receiving the communion:-

Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word, and I shall be healed.

We are only humans and sinners of the world.

But even if we know we are not perfect, cause only God can claim that; we can try to be like God. And if you don't believe in God -- well.

I was going to say something, but I have decided not to be judgemental. My business is mine alone and I shall not mind my nose into yours.

This is for those who braved the war.

Especially to the women who were forced to be comfort women

Please visit the Australian War Memorial

You will be touched --I promise you this.