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As an Indian I can say this, Indians are very judgey of other Indians. In my short time in Singapore I’ve learnt that here they judge each other by their addresses. We recently met someone who  stays in Sentosa and it did not take them too long to take a shot at Indians who stay in the East Coast (which I’ve been told is pretty much Indian dominated). Now I happen to know a few Indians who stay in the East coast they say they won’t be caught dead in Little India. Luckily for us we don’t stay in any of the above mentioned places, nor do we care about peoples postal code.  But before you are too quick to judge Indians, let me tell you, as Indian we get stereotyped by others as well, so clearly the world isn’t perfect. When I mentioned I’m going grocery shopping to a non Indian person I recently met her first responses was oh Little India, Mustafa? And my response was no, cold storage, its a three minute walk from home. Coming back to our topic for the day, is a trip to Mustafa stereotypi

 Hello my awesome readers!  I know I have been MIA for a while and from the tittle you might have guessed why. We moved to Singapore about almost five months ago and it been busy. From settling into a new country and setting everything up and finding a new groomer and vet for Brie to decorating the new house and figuring out where to find the best cheese for my platter and chocolate for my baking needs (I promise more posts about those later).  With brie at the Botanical Garden So we moved out of Hong Kong on a bitter sweet note. All the racist attacks and the general tensed atmosphere made HK very unsafe and unwelcoming for us and we knew it was time to bid farewell. HK the first home Anand and I set up together and we will always cherish that, but there are some memories I rather forget. HK was not what it used to be, people started becoming meaner, add Covid and the longest quarantine restrictions (21 days in a hotel) in the world and you have a recipe for disaster.  Anyhoo I’m glad