A snippet of my forthcoming 1st Novel 'Watching over me'.. A thriller.

I have been inspired to write my first novel. I have never written before but I see my story clearly in my mind, so I am going to give it a try. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. My story is loosely based on real-life events that happened during my own childhood.

The plot is based on a world famous psychiatrist who loses parts of her memory when she is attacked by a client. Memories come back during her day to day living but she cannot place them/ does not want to believe they are true. She has a feeling that someone is watching her every move....someone who will put all the pieces together.


Here is the opening of the book.. for your reading pleasure-

Watching Over me.

Opening Paragraph..

1989

The little girl cowered in the corner, silently she crouched waiting for the impact to touch her young body. The missiles came fast and hard, hitting with such force that it made her skin sting. No sound came from her mouth yet the tears dropped silently onto her already saturated t-shirt. The voice of terror bellowed and spat at her.  She felt her hair being pulled and the instant pain as the hand reached out and twisted her pubescent nipple. Who knew shoes could be so dangerous? The heels dug into her back as they came thumping down with superhuman strength.  Now the monster started to cry and howl, it came towards the little girl and cradled her. ‘Go and wash your face’ said the girls mother, ‘Your father is waiting for you’.

(Extract)

She disliked Sonia with a passion, it was bad enough seeing her everyday at school, now this was becoming too much.  They both stood face to face staring at each other. Her dusty eczema ridden hand reached out and touched the girl’s leg.  ‘I hate you’ the girl whispered, Sonia looked up and smiled with her lipstick stained teeth looking like bloodied, crooked soldiers. The lens of the camera flashed as the girls twisted into sexualized positions. Next day at school the girl hated Sonia even more.

Present Day:

Amber woke up, the same recurrent nightmare had made her blot from her bed at 4am. She felt between her legs, it was damp. Thank goodness she had given her housemaid the week off. Amber peeled off the bed sheets and took herself into the bathroom. Why was this happening? They had told her after the attack that things would be different, but pxssing herself and night terrors at the age of 42 was not what she expected! Her head throbbed, she looked down to her arms and saw that she had been scratching herself in her sleep again.  This had to stop, she needed to speak to someone but every time she left her house the paps were there.  The newspapers, the magazines, journalists, all baying for her life story of surviving an attack in which the doctors had given her a very low recovery rate. Even her friends had started asking questions. She had to be careful who she spoke too, she had learnt the hard way after meeting one so called friend for lunch shortly after the attack. Amber had innocently posed for a photo as her friend tried out her new blackberry phone. 2hrs later it was all over facebook , next day she had sold a story of  their so called friendship. She had told one of those low end publications that she had been there for Amber in the hospital and she even had the cheek to describe Amber’s wound and a very privately placed tattoo!

Amber was soon to realise that the part of her brain that had been affected, held vital information that would reveal to her that this woman was a two-faced bxxch! Too late now, another lesson learnt. It was quite alarming really, once people had found out that memory loss was involved it seem to give them motive to come to her and remind her of all the fun they used to have together.  Amber could not distinguish fact from fiction. It was hard and frustrating, even 7mths after the attack she still felt quite vulnerable and isolated. Her personal assistant James had been a Godsend, he was someone that she did remember. She just had to be reminded from where. He was offended at first that she could not place him, after all he had been her right hand man for the best part of 15yrs. But after sitting down and going over videos and photos of them on various holidays together, Amber was thrilled to be able to remember with clarity all the experiences they had once shared.

                                                                                                                                                               

From Roti 2 Rasta. My musical journey..Part one-1979-2002.

I am a 3rd Generation Indian. My maternal grandfather was born in the Punjab, Northern India.My birth surname is 'Dulamsingh' which really & truly could not be anymore 'Indian' sounding if it tried! He came with his father to Trinidad when he was just a little boy. This would have been in between 1910-1920 approx.
My great grandfather settled with his family in the town of Chaguanas, Central Trinidad.
My Grand-uncle(Grandfather's brother) was a well known musician in the Classical Indian music genre. I grew up listening to music such as his (Click image to listen) and also watching classical Indian movies that my maternal grandmother loved. My grandfather was Sikh and my grandmother was Hindu so until we left Trinidad to live in the UK my 1st taste of music and culture were deeply rooted in my Indian Heritage.

CLICK ON IMAGE TO HEAR THE SOUNDS OF MY GRAND-UNCLE 'KB SINGH'

I grew up on a diet of roti*, curry(anything and everything),rice, Indian sweetmeats, dhal, more roti...

*Roti-Also known as Chapati is an Indian style flatbread.

I remember always dancing..when our family visited other families and attended functions my younger  sister and I tended to end up being the 'live entertainment'.  There was always music as far back as I remember. Calypso, soca and of course classical Indian music which later gave birth to 'Chutney soca). I have always loved the beat of drums. My 1st introduction to drumming was 'The tassa drum' I remember seeing the 'Bollywood' movies (black and white back in those days and trying to copy the dancing.  I have never felt inclined to learn to drum because I love dancing so much. I also loved listening to the steel-drum(pans) which actually originate from Trinidad&Tobago.

Click on the image above to listen to some original chutney soca music.

Fast forward to the late 1980's and my mother emigrated to the UK, my music influences then became all the Readers Digest favourites. All I remember is 60's music including Buddy Holly and Jim Reeves playing over and over again for years. I felt as if my culture was slowly being taken away from me. That and certain life experiences from the ages of 7-11 had me feeling despondent. Yes we still ate curry and roti, my mother hummed songs passed onto her from my maternal grandmother but now our diet also consisted of 'Sunday dinner' and all things British! Including stereotypical racism which was common place in the small town my mother and step-father had decided to settle down in.

Me with my two younger sisters- late 80's. Newark. Nottinghamshire.

One day I remember walking into a record store and seeing a group of black men on the front cover of a cassette album. I was so elated! I begged my mother to buy me it. I had no idea what they sounded like but I didnt care, finally I was able to identify with music again. The band was called 'The Drifters', I had stumbled upon music that would give me hope and enlightenment. Oh how I loved that album! I remember playing it over and over again and enjoying dance for the 1st time in many years. About 10yrs ago I spotted the same album(now in cd format!) and I brought it straight away. It was pure bliss singing along to all the words that had been embedded in my head as a child.

Click on the image to listen to 'Save the Last Dance For Me' by 'The Drifters'.

As I entered my teenage years TV and shows such as 'The Chart Show' and 'Top of the Pops' gave me the chance to explore music on my level. The first 4 albums I remember saving up and buying myself(or receiving as requested birthday/Christmas gifts) were as follows-- Mc. Hammer 'Hammertime', Chaka Demus&Pliers 'Tease Me' both in cassette form then Barry White 'The Icon is love' and R.Kelly '12 Play' (CD format). Personally I think I may be Barry White's youngest fan as I was about 14yrs old. Pop music just did not float my boat. I needed beats and lyrics I could identify with. Ok I know you may be thinking 'what 14yr old can relate to Barry Whites and R Kelly's sexual undertone lyrics?' but for me growing up loveless their lyrics gave me hope for the future. That yes one day my prince would come! 

Chaka Demus and Pliers tune 'Tease me' actually got me by the waistline and gave me a juicy bite of what they called 'Reggae music'. I am thinking I must have been approx 12yrs old when I 1st saw the video for 'Tease me'. I had a vague idea of what they were singing about, I didn't really feel the urge to be 'teased' ; ) but my goodness the beat was infectious. I felt it from my heart, my waist down to my toes. My love affair with reggae music had begun.

Click on image to hear 'Tease Me'.

I had started my music rebellion! It was the one thing I could have full control over during my teenage years. I absorbed the 90's R&B scene, dabbled in a little bit of Hip Hop/Rap (Tupac,Biggie, Dr.Dre and co), I engulfed the dancehall vibes of Shabba Ranks, Bounty Killer, Buju Banton, Beenie Man, Tanya Stephens and Lady Saw. I soaked up Jungle by enjoying the still infectious 'Incredible' by General Levy, Shy Fx and friends. I even enjoyed mainstream reggae such as Bob Marley,UB40, Bitty Mclean and Aswad. But I wanted more. Yes I enjoyed listening to the tracks but I started to crave conscious lyrics.At the time (Aged 15/16) I only concentrated on the beats and dancing. I was unaware of how profound and special the lyrics penned by Robert Nesta Marley would become until later on in my life.

My first taste of Conscious reggae music came in the form of the late great Garnet Silk. I remember my first boyfriend playing him over and over in his car. I was 17yrs old. I remember asking him again and again for information on this amazing singer. I cannot remember what he said now but he must have got fed up because he ended up giving me that cd. I do remember him saying that Garnett had died in a house fire, but in those days there was no internet so I just had to take that info and put it at the back of my mind. 

Click on the image to hear one of my favourite Garnet tunes.

Through my late teens/early 20's I educated myself on more 'black influenced' music, I could not identify with the Bhangra that was played within the UK Asian Communities. I had been labelled as 'Black' at school so although I found my home life very conflicted and suffocating (at times I felt forced to become 'British') I also felt as if I now had an Identity that I could relate too. My Caribbean memories came back to me in the form of Jamaican Reggae music. I do not remember us being around any other Trinidadian families except when my Aunt and cousins came over to visit the UK in the early 90's. 

I remember going out and buying all the reggae cd's I could get my hands on. Gregory Issacs, Freddie Mcgregor, John Holt,Peter Tosh, Jimmy Cliff etc. I remember feeling so proud when I first heard Bob Marley's 'Iron Lion Zion' on the radio. As if I had, had something to do with him getting airplay! All in all I just wanted something I could identify and be proud off. Reggae was mi ting!

Fast forward to 2002 and another boyfriend who had just started to embrace the Rastafari  way of life introduced me to Dennis Brown and Jacob Miller(on the same day at the same time). I felt as if my musical puzzle was finally coming together. I then became interested in the Rastafari livity myself. It promoted peace, love and unity. Which was really what I lacked especially in my upbringing. My name 'Rastarella' actually started off life as a hotmail messenger id back in late 2002! I had decided to create a new account and wanted something that reflected how I felt. Now I have always been able to relate to the Disney Character 'Cinderella' and now I  had gained an interest in the Rastafari livity. I put them both together and I came up with Rastarella.Job done!

I can say now that from the moment I heard Jacob's double cd 'A chapter a day' I fell in love with his lyrics, his tone, his look and his vibe. Another blow to my heart was finding out that he too had already passed away. I came to discover that almost all of my reggae idols had departed and taken the Zion Train out of Babylon. Jacob Miller to this day is the number 1  most influential musician I have ever had the pleasure of listening too.

Click on Jacob to hear one of my favourite songs.

So that is the end of part one..join me soon for part 2..my journey into Rastafari,Bob Marley, Freedom,event organising, dreadlocks,Culture plus more- 2003-present day. Rastarella--From ROTI 2 RASTA. One love!

A Positive Poem.

ABISOLA- Born into LOVE.

Oh Abisola! Our Beautiful butterfly

They tried to condemn you at birth

Brought tears inna we eye

As we struggled to cope...

Your presence gave us Hope

We stopped listening to what was wrong..

Refused to go on that downhill slope.

Instead we looked upon you for Inspiration

And you showed us your Determination.

They said so many parts of you did not work

Your body, your organs ,they prodded and poked.

YES! We were scared, lost and sad

But the day you smiled and finally squeezed my finger

Is a memory in time, that will forever linger.

When they told us what was wrong..

We showed them what was right.

Whilst some families split up,

YOU kept us tight.

ABISOLA..Oh Abisola!

Our special butterfly.

You have changed our lives,our thoughts,our choices.

Only smiles now..never no need to cry.

I love you my sweetheart..

You have taught us how to accept our differences

See them as Positives.

It is ah Honour to be your mother

Thank you for being our daughter and sister.

Thank you for changing us for the better..

Thank you Jah for blessing us with Love in abundance.

With POSITIVE Vision we can change for the better!

This is dedicated to our lovely baby Abisola who was born with a Rare Chromosome Disorder.

My King Man and I would like to give heartfelt thanks and Ises to the following people:

Sistren's Babs Collins and Carrie-Anne Stanbridge .

All my Finland family..special thanks to Tuomo&Yinka.

All at Unique Rare Chromosomal Disorder support group.

All the Nurses at QMC hospital and the neo-natal unit.

Thank you to the following agencies..Nottingham City Hospital's children's center

Sure start Sneinton and Carlton Road family medical centre.

Also thank you to our wonderful Health visitor SELINA THOMAS who was the 1st person to see our baby as a person and not a label.

One love.

I Rastarella. 12th September 2009.

Abisola walks!

Click on the image to view the video.

Abisola--Her Story so far (Condensed version)

No one can prepare you for how you will feel when you are told that there is something not quite right with your newborn baby. My third pregnancy had been my best ever, during my previous two pregnancies I had  felt sick, tired and fed up. But this time I felt great! I was finally able to understand those mothers who said pregnancy made them glow and feel vibrant.

All the usual checks/scans went well and my baby kicked all the time inside of me. I was booked for a c-section on Friday 26th September 2008. A few weeks before my husband and I were deciding on names. We choose 'Abisola' which in Yoruba means 'Born into love' (roughly translated).  We decided that at 38wks I would have the caesarean section on the Friday so that our other two daughters would have the weekend (no school) to come and see me in the hospital. The plan was that after a few days I would be released to go home with our newborn. How wrong could we be!

I remember fainting on the operating table as they tried to administer the epidural for the 4th time into my spine. Next thing there was the tugging and pulling as they operated and took my baby out of my belly. But then the atmosphere went strangely eerie. ..

There was no sound coming from my babygirl...she was soooooooo small and had not one ounce of fat on her. I can recall whispering and concerned looks.

To cut a very traumatic story short, all was not well with Abisola. She was extremely weak and unresponsive. There were grave concerns for her health and physical appearance. She had to have many many tests and due to the fact that it was a weekend we had to wait for 48hrs for the results. I can truly say that those hours felt like years, there were so many questions that the doctors had no answers for. All that they could say that there was some kind of chromosomal abnormality but they had to wait for test results to be sure of anything.

On the Sunday blood results came back to say that Abisola was severely dehydrated and that her salt levels were so high/low (I cannot remember now which it was) that she could have a heart attack. She was then transferred to intensive care and tube-fed my breast milk. In the meantime my husband and I had to have blood tests to see if we had any genetic abnormalities that Abisola could have inherited.
I thought I would be in hospital for up to 5days as I would have to recover from my operation. Instead I spent 10days in hospital in a private room with Abisola. I remember the tv didnt work in my room and all I had was my music. I played Bob Marley's 'Three Little birds' so many times that it is now embedded in my brain for life! In my moments alone with Abisola I would look at her and just pray, pray for her to get stronger and for everything to be alright. I was so scared of being told that she was not going to live, but I had to put that in the back of my mind. I didn't care what she had, I just wanted my babygirl to live so that I could give her all the love I had inside.

After leaving hospital on day 10 we were finally home. My husband came with my two elder daughters and we caught the bus home, I remember when I got into my living room I burst out crying, it was such a relief not to be in hospital. But then the next day Abisola slept for 24hrs and would not feed. Weekend was coming up again and I knew that she needed to be seen by a doctor. He sent us straight back to hospital.
After various tests they discovered that she had a hole in her heart which added to her weakness. She was back to being tube-fed and was put on medication to help close the hole. She stayed on this medication for 7mths.

Abisola was unable to smile because her muscles were weak, all that she was able to do was lie flat on her back, her hands remained in fists because the tendons were tight. She started physiotherapy at approx 7mths old. She also had occupational therapy from birth until she was 15mths old. At one point she had 12specialists ranging from dietary, speech, vision, hearing,heart, hormones, urinary, genetics plus various playworkers/nurses.

In October 2008(Abisola was approx 3wks old) we had an appointment with the Genetic specialist at Nottingham City Hospital. We were told that Abisola had a 'Rare Chromosome Disorder' which..wait for it..meant that she had an 'Unbalance translocation between chromosome X and Chromosome 9 with  xp22.1 deletion and Trisomy 9q33'!!!

Which in basic terms meant that two of her chromosomes did not form correctly, one part of one was missing and she had additional material on another. This caused many changes in her development. They were unable to tell us how she would progress, but they said there would be some forms of delayed growth, disability and possible behavioural issues. They had no data of any other child in the world with her specific type of chromosomal abnormality. It was not genetic but just the way that Abisola had decided to develop in my womb. They said it would have happened when she was 1st created, within weeks of me conceiving. We later found out that some miscarriages happen when the body rejects an abnormally formed foetus. Abisola was determined to be born and we were so glad that she survived against the odds. We were given the details of 'Unique, rare chromosome support group'. We have since become members and Abisola has been on the front cover of the magazine to highlight this disorder in the Black community.

In Jan 2010 Abisola was unable to stand up even with help, but then in March she was fitted for a standing frame which we were able to have at home. From then on she was able to learn to crawl and stand up in her frame securely strapped in. In the summer of 2010 she was fitted with leg splints and braces. Her physio said these would help her know that she could hold her own body weight. She spent appox 6hrs a day in the frame and wore her spints throughout the day and night until she went to sleep. By her 2nd birthday in September 2010 Abisola was able to stand without the frame, but not unaided. She still needed to stand against something like a wall/sofa/hold our hands for support. She was able to walk around the room with us holding her hands. At her annual review in Jan of 2011 the doctors and specialist were amazed with her progress.

On Feb 22nd something very magical happened. Her Godmother Carrie-Anne came over for dinner and to see the family. After dinner and when my other two daughters had gone to sleep it was just Carrie-Anne, my husband Falade, Abisola and me. Abisola sat on her stool, got up, looked at her Godmother and decided to WALK towards her, 3 steps soon became 6..then before we knew it Abisola walked across the room! Yes she side-stepped and was a little unstable but it was the 1st time she had, had the courage to let go of our hands and just go for it. It was such a special moment in time that I will never ever forget. My daughter walked for the 1st time aged 2.5yrs.

No one can prepare you for having a disabled child but only you can hold on to hope and faith that no matter what, everything will be alright!

Now we await Abisola's 1st words which I know will come..all in God's time.


One love and thank you for reading.

Click here for info on the Unique Rare Chromosome Disorder fanpage on Facebook.

My view on RASTAMOUSE and the Easy Crew.

New CBEEBIES programme RASTAMOUSE has been making headlines recently with people for and against this children's show.
Personally I think the show is showing that as a multi-cultural country we are moving with the times. The fact that it is being shown on BBC and not on some obscure channel also says alot.
I have read that people have issues with the characters being mice 'rodents' etc and that the cheese they eat is really a cover-up for the 'ganja' stereotype attached to the Rastafarian communities.
What a load of hogwash! I read that the characters should be Lions instead, but then they would be meat-eaters and seen as vicious! Mickey mouse has made a great impact being the world's most famous rodent and I hope Rastamouse can reach that status worldwide.
We have had the books in our family for a few years and what I really love is the fact that when they speak it is written in 'patois' which as a Trinidadian native I love that Caribbean Culture is being incorporated into the younger generation.
The fact that the 'crew' are all easy-going and strive for peace and justice is great, it promotes good behaviour over bad and encourages the young viewers to work together to solve problems working as a team.
I love that my middle daughter (4yrs old) is the only Rastafarian in her school which is a Catholic Primary, now all the children role-play 'Rastamouse' at breaktimes and have alot of fun learning the lingo.
For those who have issues with Rastamouse I would say to dem 'tek it easy, nam some cheese and go play some reggae music' Irie Man!

Click on the image to visit the Rastamouse website.

One of my poems-- I am Wombman.

As I stand here in all my nakedness
I am Wombman
As Mother Nature herself intended
Just as my Father created InI,
I have been formed into perfection.

Woman
Wombman
Mother Nature's imprint
God's Creation.


As my hips shake to the beating drums of love
My breasts grow full and round
As my cherry red lips taste of natural sweetness
Only actions, no need for sound.

Wombman
Woman
Mother Nature's creation
Jah's perfect Imprint


My curves, my scent
My beating heart.
You saw the beauty within I
Right from the start
I am Wombman.

As Jah intended, Wombman met Man
Our future was set
Just as your mother carried you
I carried our own
Just as your father before you
You held my hand as Jah blessed us.

I am Wombman
The root of all future
The Carrier of Life
Mother Nature's imprint
Daughter of the Almighty.

Cherish
Raspect
Love
And most of all, HONOUR
All the Wombmen, for without us..there would be no Man.

I Rastarella.
Poetry str8 from mi Heart. 1-11-09.