The Sandcasle

She looked at the incoming waves and said silent prayers,
Her sandcastle dreams turned terrifying nightmares,
The waves crashed and destroyed them unaware,
They looked down and laughed at her without a care.

They often told, her dreams were make-believe,
The vision she knew, would never conceive,
The dreams turned blurry, yet she would fail to worry,
As the waves came crashing, she continued in a hurry.


In the fading lights, they chuckled while she toiled,
Her fingers scarred, clothes wet and soiled,
As she struggled in pain, her sand castle emerged again,
She passed her test, they had battled her in vain...

School Notes - Part 1

Nowadays, I’ve been dropping Adi to school in the mornings due to some technical issues with his school bus routine. Today we’re running a bit late and I’ve just put on my best Michael Schumacher hat, stepped on the gas pedal and  managed to drop Adi before the 7.40 bell rings.

I don’t know if it is just me being in a grumpy morning mood, but to make matters worse, a heavily made up, garish red lipsticked mom who had her kid in tow, bumped straight into me. She mumbled an apology, but what struck me was, why the heck was she dressed up like THAT. It was early morning, and what in the world motivates someone to dress up like that to drop their child to SCHOOL! I mean, you’re not coming for a social do, are u?

So I decided to list down the kind of characters that I've had to grin and bear while dropping my kid to school 

Specimen 1: Mrs Red lipstick – The red lipsticked, short skirted, SUV driving Mom (who cant park in her given parking space) of a 10 year old clearly needs to be reminded by someone that its easier to just walk around with a sign board on her neck saying “available”

Specimen 2: Mrs. Botox – Clearly Mrs Botox has had herself botoxed from some discount offer available during Dubai Shopping festival, else why will her face look like that!!! unless she got a free Nose job (which went all wrong) and a lip job (and whatever else jobs) as part of her Botox offer. Someone needs to tell her that there’s something called a “aging gracefully” look most men like better than her current state of affairs.

Specimen 3: Mr. Suits – Mr Suits is always in suits, almost makes me feel he sleeps in them also. Yesterday Mr. Suits was clearly wearing his best suit possible. Grey suit with little white prints, grey tie and hair dripping gel. Maybe he should just ask out Specimen number 2 for a date!

Specimen 4: Mr. Bum Crack – This specimen was the worst disaster I have had to encounter. He was this late 30s beer bellied chap, who seems to think he’s still in his teens and can carry off wearing those low slung jeans with his boxers in view. So when he bent over and kissed his child bye, yours truly had to go through the agony of having full view of his hairy butt crack for a full 2 milliseconds! 

Oh groan!

Random impressions

I may be rambling here, but am just in one of those moods today and came across this scribbling that I had done in a novel which I had bought on 04/03/2001.

she left impressions in the sands of time
washed into infinity by a rouge wave's climb,
the yearning never stops with one life,
entwined forever as man and wife.

Generations have come,eons shall succumb
The ocean waves will continue to drum
and then the rare few shall always create
Impressions in the sands of time forever

I dont even remember why or when I wrote it this, its just one of those scribbled things. I'll pick up on this when I remember what the heck this was all about.

PS: Ignore the madness

Every sinner has a future

A while back I happened to re-read the line "Every Saint has a past and every sinner has a future". It remained in my mind for a long time. I wrangled with the statement and tried to find parallels from my personal experiences of people around me, and I found several.

Here is something that I spotted today, in the FT Weekend edition titled 'Syria activists risk all on Homs supply runs'. It told the story of how professional smugglers were helping Syrian activists in bringing in medical supplies into Homs and taking out the wounded into safety.

One smuggler who initially started doing this for material gains, is doing the same for the sheer joy of helping the needy.

"I am so happy and proud to do such a thing" he says. "I am helping poor people who are asking only for freedom"

Here's to freedom, here's to a better world; Here's hoping that every sinner has a future, because every saint has a past!

Dont try and figure if there's a long overdue confession hidden somewhere in these lines above...its called writer's license (aka poetic license) ;)

...because failure is an event, not a person

Over the past year, I have pondered several times on education. No, I don’t plan to get back to college again, but the last year gave me quite a bit of time to think on Adi’s education. Living in Dubai gives you so many options for your child’s education (The UK Board, International board, Indian, American Medium etc.), that it sometimes confuses you.

My perennial crib and biggest fear with the Indian Education system is that it refuses to teach children values like innovation, humanity, empathy or social good and seems to drive them towards a single minded goal of becoming fat cat bankers or a faithful, analytical, white collar “employee” who is destined to a life of mediocrity making power-point decks or coding software.

I wish education systems also teach children that failing sometimes is not a crime. My take is that failing while trying something spectacular (and unconventional) is not a crime. I want them to be taught that, with each failure, they should just forgive themselves and move on into the next spectacular untested idea in their chosen passion. As I read somewhere, I want them to be taught that "walker there is no path; the path is made by walking"

It is but definitive that in our children’s lifetime, they will encounter far more black swans than the ones we have seen in the past decade (Dot com bust, US Sub Prime, Greek Debt, Middle East realty, War etc) and it is not education, for the sake of education which will help them survive through the same.

Across these economic catastrophes, intentionally or unintentionally, I have seen several friends and peers switch career paths and try the untested. Some succeeded; some remain in comatose while a few others have met abject and complete failure.

Without naming them publicly, here’s a sample of a few that got me thinking :

 - Friend who worked with some of the best known TV stations in media sales/ Asia; leaves it, and starts an adventure travel company (happily converting her passion to her profession)

- Asset Manager/ stock broker starts a slick deli/ restaurant in Dubai after he got retrenched from his job last year

- Finance manager in an IT company who starts his own IT company and finally ends up selling it and ends up rejoining the industry as an employee all in the last 18 months

 - And the most exciting of all, is that a close confidante, is in the process of setting up an amazing web 2.0 venture/ tech venture based out of Dubai. From what she studied to become, to what she's doing now & where she's headed...the trajectory is definitely upwards :)

The one common thread in those who succeeded (after failing elsewhere), has been that I found them to be more well rounded human beings.

By “Well rounded”, I mean those who have strong foundations, a cosmopolitan/global view of life and higher sensibilities. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean to say that those whom I have seen succeeding were fans of Luciano Pavarotti and Mozart, I mean to say I found them to have absolute clarity on what they wanted out of life and knew how to live life to the fullest.

and then I wonder,if its just nature or nurture that endowed them so...

Facebook - Its complicated!

I’ve been having a bit of a “its complicated” relationship phase with facebook for a while now. I’ve ended up in a situation, where I have people on my friend list whom I have barely known in college and school days; I mean we were hardly friends, we just happened to study together in a 1000+ ppl college!!! and then I have relatives whom I have barely met in real life, and am in a situation where un-friending them might create a family feud etc.

The worst reason for me starting to dislike facebook is also because I’m getting seriously irked with some of the status messages I see on my facebook timeline. Here’s a sneak peak into it:

1) “xi wang ni ching chung dong” or something like that …read one status update. I mean come on guys, if you were to write a facebook update like that in a language I have no clue on, at least exclude me from that status update and share it with a subset of ppl who know the language. I have no idea if you said “my dog peed on my lap” or “I had the best time of my life”!

2) “RIP my dearest uncle/ aunt/ relative” status updates. What do you want me to do after reading that status update anyway? Would my condolences make any sense to you? Would they sound real? What’s unbelievable was that there were 2-3 people who actually went ahead and liked that status update too. Spare me from these details please.

 3) “On my way from Dubai to Abu Dhabi” status updates from a guy who works in Abu Dhabi and lives in Dubai. Who cares..really. It’s not as if you’re vacationing in Capetown or Bangkok that I want to hear about this update. Give me a break!!

Then there was the “my dog has urinary infection :(” status just when I was about to have dinner; “Jesus loves you, so read the bible every day”..and a few more such brilliant nuggets, but I’ll spare you the details.


If on one side, I have a bunch of status update friends like the above, on the other end of the spectrum I have a bunch of “friends” who are trying really hard to present a perfect, beautiful personality through their update while omitting all the deep and disturbing realities of their life. I wonder if Facebook is worth all this effort..really!!!

...and then someone came and told me this in favor of facebook “Facebook is like that, Anup. It's a snapshot of a moment, which you can sit back and enjoy like those old faded photographs of childhood. Everything you are is what you make of it, if you decide to portray a "perfect, beautiful person," then that is who you're pretending to be. Facebook didn't ask you to take on that persona, you decided that all on your own. Facebook really is a man in the mirror”.

 

Now you see why I said the relationship is complicated :0)

P.S: my twitter profile

The Blacksmith's dilemma?

The all powerful force sometimes has strange ways of reminding me, why he/ she is named as the all powerful. Some days you wake up feeling that you are the blacksmith of your own destiny and then some other days the whole blacksmith concept just comes crashing down on earth.

How much ever, the Blacksmith tries chipping with his chisel, he can never achieve the perfection of the smooth, well rounded rock, created and shaped by centuries of water flowing around it; but does that mean the blacksmith should not try?

In search of my Flugobinder idea!

The other day, I was thinking of some of the people who inspired me in my life and helped me take some critical decisions, and one person and a certain incident popped into my mind.

It was high school days and I was living in my grand parents house at that time. For those who know the place and the house where I lived, also know that, the house in reference was actually this rambling mansion with several guest bedrooms in the middle of a bustling city. Being a part of a super large family, and living in this strategically located house, we always had uncles, aunts, cousins etc dropping in there for a pit stop, from out of town.

One day, as I came back from school, in popped this cool dude of an uncle into the house; I had rarely met him as he did not live in the same city, but I had heard about him. He was tall, lanky, brooding and bearded (I wont name him for several reasons). One look at him and I thought he was the coolest guy on earth, his beard gave him the look of a 'Rockstar' and his faded blue jeans screamed out “rebel” in every way. It must be noted, that I lived in a house where my granny is a PhD in Chemistry, My granddad was a prominent civil lawyer in the city and it was difficult to find an aunt or uncle with a non-nerdy look and high on the coolness quotient.

I watched him in awe while he was tinkering with the VCR (yeah, remember those funny looking, video cassette tape players of yesteryears).He noticed me looking at him and asked me, “do you have a video rental shop nearby”. Quick to please him, I said yes we do, I know the shop and could take him there (all in a single breath). He looked at me and nodded, “ok let’s go then”. I was walking with him to the video rental shop when he quizzed me on my knowledge of movies and other stuff. I sadly did not know any of the movies he was talking about, but I made a mental note of every one of the movies he referred to.

We reached the shop and he picked up a movie called “Cocktail (A Tom Cruise, 1988 Movie)”. He told me that it was a nice movie and that he had watched it several times and could do with a rerun of it; I had never heard about it, but made it a point to watch it when we get home. We came back and I suddenly remembered that I had after school tuition classes and rushed ahead for them forgetting all about the movie.

I never thought about watching that movie till several years later, when I had got into college and then as fate would have it, I chanced upon “Cocktail’ again. The only reason I watched the movie was because of this memory of that incident with my uncle. I watched it once, watched it again, and again and again, idolizing Tom Cruise’s character of a small town guy who goes to New York to do his MBA, learns business skills and gets a mentor in the big city in his part time job, starts off as an entrepreneur goes through highs and lows and finally makes it big in life.

Apart from some super slick one liners; one thing that profoundly remained in my mind from the movie was the following scene. Tom Cruise (Brian the hero) sits with his girlfriend and frets over not being able to make it big in life. He looks at the glass he’s holding and stares at that paper umbrella on the juice drink he's holding and says” you know somewhere in the world, there’s a guy who makes these paper umbrellas that you stick on these juice glasses, and he’s probably a millionaire by now making them”. He puts his feet up on the coffee table and looks at his shoes and says “You know, there’s probably also a Flugobinder millionaire somewhere in this world.”. She looks at him and asks “what’s a Flugobinder??”He points to his shoes and tells her “ See these shoes of mine, See those laces, see those plastic little things at the end of the lace, I don’t know what you call them but let's call them Flugobinders for the heck of it. There’s some guy somewhere in the world, who wakes up in the morning, kisses his wife goodbye and goes to a factory where he makes Flugobinders for shoes, sells it and makes millions. We sit here and rack our brains to try and make our mark in the world, and there’s some guy who corners the Flugobinder market in the world. There are opportunities all around us, we just need to open our eyes and see them.” End of Scene.

It taught me a valuable lesson, and to this day I believe there are opportunities everywhere around us, a lot of us miss them as we’re focused on the easy mediocrity of life and are afraid to break stereotypes ; it takes a dreamer with passion to see and embrace the hidden opportunities around us.

Today, as I think about the opportunities that I grabbed in my life and those that I missed, I think its about time I said “thank you “ to the person who unknowingly helped me dream and search for flugobinders in life!  :)

Comedies of life!

I sometimes feel, Murphy wrote the law “if things can go wrong, they will” based on my life. Wherever Murphy is, he’d probably nod an “amen” if he hears my life story. In professional life or personal life, I have had this unique quirk of fate that, before any major surge of joy, I need to have a moment of absolute, utter and complete panic.

Like earlier this week, I was in this certain city, expected to go for one of the biggest meetings of the year. I arrive overnight, get a wake up call sufficiently early from the hotel reception, take a shower, breakfast, and then get ready for the meeting and…

Panic Attack 1: I pull my shirt from the hanger and while removing the collar button, the button breaks off. Now how the heck am I supposed to wear a Tie without buttoning up my collar!!! I pull up the sewing needle and thread from the hotel bathroom closet, poke my fingers 15 times, curse my luck 25 times and we finally have the collar button where its supposed to be..sewed up in red thread on a pristine white shirt…oh, what the heck!

Panic Attack 2: I put on my trousers and ramble up to my suit bag, search in one of the pockets for the belt, and voila I’ve forgotten it. Its 3000 miles away at home!!!! I mean, in all my bloody years of doing this job, I have never gone for a meeting without a suit trouser minus the belt.. Here I was staring at my half naked self in the mirror at a hotel room at 8 am in the morning, with my shirt on, tie in place and holding my pants in my hand! Ok, call the bell boy, get me a belt from the hotel shop, he brings 3 belts after 15 minutes, one of them a snake skin belt, another one a white leather belt and the third one looked like a cotton rope. We’re hyper-ventilating. I decide to just go for the meeting minus the belt.

If you think this is a random event in my life. Take another example, The year was 2005 and I was in Bahrain trying to close the biggest deal that I had ever closed in my life. One of the largest banks in that country was about to buy a software which it planned to roll out to 8 countries. I was presenting to an audience of over 25+ people. I had arrived along with the CEO of the company and had spent 2 weeks preparing for this meeting.

Everything had surprisingly gone well, pants in place, shirt in place, laptop is working fine, software is working fine, windows hasn’t crashed..And then I start my presentation. People who know me well professionally, know that when I present something, I can be quite thirsty and drink water often. I’m facing the audience and my boss who knew this habit of mine, quietly walked up from the back and kept a glass of water near my laptop. Like a ballet dancer, I do a pirouette and..CLUNK! THUD! CRASH! disaster..the glass of ice cold water tips on my laptop keypad. Keypad is floating in water..panic panic panic…the Bank IT guys rushes in…the audience and me watch in horror at the mess…we rush the laptop to the wash room, keep it under a hand drying fan, no good..laptop dies…The audience is surprisingly sympathetic..(in fact they took some special liking for us after that disaster, maybe we just seemed more human) ..we agree to postpone the session, but guess what finally emerges from this one...a month later ..I bag the deal!

God must be sitting and watching a sitcom comedy with my life, but he sure seems to be a sucker for happy endings, for he always ensures that every time I have a panic attack like that, I end up going and having a meeting of my life…

Well I guess, that's why they say "a hard beginning makes a good ending"

Happy Endings to y'all...

Stand by me ..forever!

Some songs are just so magical that how many ever times you hear it, you can never tire of them. I happened to read somewhere that, those who wish to sing a song always find one. The song from Ra.one “Dildara-Stand by me” is like one of those songs, a song which I always wish I had sung.

I must also admit, though Stand by me" is like this super duper chartbuster of all times, the first time I ever heard it was when a certain RJ I know and some others in the station (City 101.6 UAE), remixed that song and made a theme song out of it, and then I happened to hear it last week as “Dildara-stand by me” in Ra.one

The song was so melodic, that I just had to dig up more info on the song. Apparently the original of the song “Stand by me” was sung by Ben E King in the 60s, and it turns out it is one of the most remixed and re-sung songs in the world with over 400 versions of it available. Everyone from John Lennon, Jim Hendrix, Elton John, Seal to Alvin and the Chipmunks have a version of it. Am wondering why Bollywood took so long to remix this song, but I must admit, what a marvelous job by Vishal-Shekhar.

The lyrics of the original are just timeless.The original version sung by Ben E King is still the best version of this song, sung with one of those  "chick a chik" thingy instrument (can someone tell me what you call that instrument) and a guitar in the background. Perfect song for one of those moments, when you're sitting somewhere quietly at night, looking into infinity and watching the magic of the universe unfolding in front of you...

When the night has come, and the land is dark
And the moon is the only light we will see
No, I won't be afraid, oh, I won't be afraid
Just as long as you stand, stand by me

So darlin', darlin' stand by me
Oh stand by me
Oh stand, stand by me, stand by me


If the sky that we look upon should tumble and fall
Or the mountain should crumble to the sea
I won't cry, I won't cry, no, I won't shed a tear
Just as long as you stand, stand by me

And darlin', darlin' stand by me
Oh stand by me
Whoa stand now, stand by me, stand by me


enjoyyyyy...

The Kerala Trip Trilogy - Part I - Cousins & more!

This trip to India had a lot of firsts in it, but the most significant one was that, for the first time in a decade the whole Kainikkara Cousins gang was present in full attendance in one place. My initial thoughts were that it would be difficult to break the ice and start conversations; but it was surprising to note that even after a decade, we could pick up on conversations like we had them unfinished yesterday. I thought it would be a good idea to leave some feedback on my cousins on the blog (as a note to Adi, for future references), so here goes:
(Note: The description order is only alphabetical and not necessarily age wise)

Arun : The second in line in the family cousins generation tree, he is about (I think) 3 years younger to me. The first thing you notice about Arun is his eyes, You cant miss them. They look like he was on a steady diet of “Somras” mixed with “Cerelac” when he was a baby; I was always a bit surprised when he chose to work in Kerala, but Mr Droopy eyes cousin’s little one (Agastya) and Soumya’s luck, managed get his Dad a career shift into Chennai. Here’s wishing you lots of luck.

Ani (Pramod) : Thankfully Ani is a good 5 years younger to me;. Top Engg college pass out, Top B school pass out, not a geek, plays the guitar, good looking…Fortunately for me I was never bench marked with him in my wonder years, else I would have been in a mental asylum by now. Ani and I spoke quite a bit, but what will remain in memory from this trip was the smile in his twinkling eyes, when he sang the song “Papa kehte hain…” (he sang it twice) and both times when he sang the lines “koi engineer ka kaam karega, business me koi apna naam karega…” I can bet he has ambitions and dreams beyond compare. Godspeed!

Kuttan (Prasanth): The man of the moment, the last time I met him he was still in school. I hardly remember anything significant of Kuttan from a decade back, except that he’s a good tabla player. Deloitte, Mumbai and a US project have surely made him mature. To the barrel chested, Hummer shaped cousin of mine, I wish him lots of luck in his married life.

Varun : I don’t have any major memories of Varun from a decade back either, why? Because I think in the 10 years that I knew him back then, he would have spoken about 10 sentences maximum to me. Varun never spoke much back then, he was this silent, brooding , living in another planet guy, but the married Varun seems to have changed quite a bit (Thanks to Deepti also I guess, she compensates for all his above traits). His passion for photography of bugs and insects was well known folklore, so am not quite looking forward to the pics he took during the wedding.. I mean, his 24x zoomed shot would probably be capturing Kuttan’s nose hair, instead of the marriage ceremony. Just kidding, wishing him loads of luck too.

Kannan (Gautham) : The memory of him a decade back was of this anemic fair skinned geek guy with soda glasses to match, but when I met him in Dubai a few years back, he had morphed himself into a good looking dude. Marriage hadn’t changed his proportions; that I figure has to do with the kitchen experiments going on between Swetha and him, as typically, in my humble experience, for about 3-6 months after marriage, most meals cooked would go into the garbage bin (at least that was the situation in our case). Professionally, he seems to be juggling quite a few interests, hopefully I’d be seeing more of him in the middle east region; which would indirectly mean he's printing $$$$ too . Good luck Kannan!

Mol (Gayathri) : The school girl in pig tails had obviously blossomed into an elegant lady with poise and grace. Over the years, I had kept hearing about her achievements in dance and academics through others, though she was never on my social network (baby sisters are never on social networks with big brothers, anup makes a mental note to send her a friend request as she's no longer the baby anymore). The most significant thing about her was that, She’s just gone ahead and proved “Matches are made in heaven”, I mean how else can you define, two people (nandu/ mol) separated by about 5000 miles geographically, falling in love with each other and deciding to take wedding vows. Just as long as they don’t name their kids, "Facebookan" and "Orkutti" :P in honor of their love affair, I don’t see why Prabha chitta, Pappa chittan, Manikuttan appan and Anil appan would have any problems in their marriage :P! Good luck Mol!

Vinay : He’s got one career path which can definitely make him money, No prizes for guessing –Stand up comedy! I saw a visibly embarrassed Kochappan, trying in vain to control Vinay’s Chalus, but he probably forgot he’s looking at the man in the mirror. Vinay’s “Order in Chaos” attitude clearly makes him my favorite cousin; its also probably got to do with the fact that I related with his attitude too. Thank you Vinay for introducing me to the Meluhans and the 3x3 algo solution (for the uninitiated the former is from a book he recommended I read and the latter is the algo to the rubik’s cube which I have been busy downloading/ learning). Good luck in your exams and honestly don’t worry about having a facebook account, it’s a gross waste of time at your age :) unless your name starts with “P” and ends with “D” or starts with “G” and ends with “M” or “I”


Ammini (Uma) : Adi’s “Amina Chechi” was Adi’s age when I last met her. One lasting memory of her (The last in the line of the cousin family tree, unless one of my appans/ chittas decide to pull of a surprise) would be on how she brilliantly she played the “Wordmole” game on my blackberry. Just goes on to show that “brains and smarts” runs in the family.

So why did I ramble so much on my cousins, lets just say every man sees in his relatives, especially his cousins, a series of grotesque caricatures of himself..makes sense?

...who else did I meet, the appans and chittas who refuse to age, the distantly/vaguely related muttashis and muttashans who came up and loudly announced (the ever embarrassing lines) "ninakku enne orma undo, ninakku randu vayasu ullapol, ende dressil muthram oyichathu okke" ..yeah right! All that and more in the second part "The Kerala Trip Trilogy - Part II - The Aunts and Uncles"

My Personal God...

On Saturday night, while sitting in a hotel room, I was surfing channels and was watching some program on BBC, which interrupted it with breaking news on the Norway bomb blast. It was a scary bit of news, but what compounded the same and got me thinking on how much Islam had got tagged as a terror religion. To watch one of the most moderate news channels in the world hinting that this could possibly be a terror attack linked to the Norway Cartoon publication and their presence in Afghanistan was just shocking. If I had heard it on Fox news I wouldn’t have been surprised, but hearing it on BBC was a bit disappointing.

It finally turned out that the guy who did this, or the groups behind this were really Christian Fundamentalists and not Islamic Jihadis. I remember reading the below story somewhere on the internet and searched it out as my answer to to the Jihadi, the Hindu Fundamentalist, the Christian Militant or the Buddhist terrorist who is reading my blog.

A child in the sixth grade in a Sunday School in New York City, with the encouragement of her teacher, wrote to Einstein on 19 January I936 asking him whether scientists pray, and if so what they pray for. Einstein replied as follows on 24 January 1936:

“I have tried to respond to your question as simply as I could. Here is my answer. Scientific research is based on the idea that everything that takes place is determined by laws of nature, and therefore this holds for the actions of people. For this reason, a research scientist will hardly be inclined to believe that events could be influenced by a prayer, i.e. by a wish addressed to a supernatural Being.


However, it must be admitted that our actual knowledge of these laws is only imperfect and fragmentary, so that, actually, the belief in the existence of basic all-embracing laws in Nature also rests on a sort of faith. All the same this faith has been largely justified so far by the success of scientific research. But, on the other hand, every one who is seriously involved in the pursuit of science becomes convinced that a spirit is manifest in the laws of the Universe — spirit vastly superior to that of man, and one in the face of which we with our modest powers must feel humble.”


I believe my personal religion is also work in progress. It matters very little to me, as to what religion I was born under, yet I consider myself as deeply religious. As I look in awe at the miracles of this universe, I am convinced of the existence of the greater power, I am however not convinced that it resides in an idol. I am convinced that anyone with compassion, empathy, kindness and love believes in the same God as I do. If he defines it as The Allah, Jesus or the Krishna, it matters little to me as I know that is the same as my personal God.

Because, you don't get to live life twice!

The movie “Zindagi na milegi Dobara” (literal translation to English: You don’t get to live your life twice) is a decent watch. Apart from the awesome Spanish Countryside as the setting, there are some subtle moments in the movie where all of us could relate with some of the characters. It’s a story of three friends going on a road trip through Spain, but the high points in the movie are the dialogues and the honesty in the movie script. To top it, you have Javed Akhtar weaving magic with his pen and making you introspect and wonder in awe at the little miracles in life.

There’s a point in the movie, where one of the characters (Imran) looks on into the setting sun, and a verse (Farhan Akhtar) echoing in the background, which truly moved me. Thought I should share it with all of you. And for those of you who don’t speak Hindi, I’ve also added my (weak) translation of the hindi verse. Read on and enjoy!

Toh Zinda ho tum
Dilon mein tum apni betabiyan leke chal rahe ho, Toh zinda ho tum,
Nazar mein khwaabon ki bijliyan leke chal rahe ho, Toh zinda ho tum,

Hawa ke jhonkon ke jaise aazad rehna seekho,
Tum ek dariya ke jaise, leharon mein behna seekho,
Har ek lamhe se tum milo khole apni baahein,
Har ek pal ek naya samaa dekhiye,

Jo apni aankhon mein hairaniyan leke chal rahe ho, Toh zinda ho tum,
Dilon mein tum apni betabiyan leke chal rahe ho, Toh zinda ho tum.

(English Translation)

If your heart is restless and impatient, only then are you are truly alive
If your eyes shine with electric dreams, only then are you are truly alive

Learn to be free, like the soft currents of a wind,
Learn to swim, through the waves in the river of life,
Open your arms, and meet every moment of life,
Learn to see, the new dawn in every living moment.

If you eyes show a hunger to learn, only then are you are truly alive,
If your heart is restless and impatient, only then are you are truly alive....

Says quite a bit! Hu-h! :)

Voyages of life

Where were you when I needed you the most,
As I sat and watched the clouded skies come close,
Broken and hurt, suffering in pain
I sat there alone, watching the hurricane

Where were you when I needed your love,
The screams of my heart, watered a growing throb,
Lost in thought, lost in abstraction
I sat there alone, regretting my inaction.

Where were you when I needed your stroke
The rains were departing and the skies awoke,
The moment had arrived, with a journey to be done
I was but alone, smiling and heading into the scorching sun.

Inspiring!

Bertrand Russell has written some amazing poems.. when I am lonely and feel burdened by the trivialities of life, this is where I seek solace..read on


Three Passions

Three passions have governed my life:
The longings for love, the search for knowledge,
And unbearable pity for the suffering of [humankind].

Love brings ecstasy and relieves loneliness.
In the union of love I have seen
In a mystic miniature the prefiguring vision
Of the heavens that saints and poets have imagined.

With equal passion I have sought knowledge.
I have wished to understand the hearts of [people].
I have wished to know why the stars shine.

Love and knowledge led upwards to the heavens,
But always pity brought me back to earth;
Cries of pain reverberated in my heart
Of children in famine, of victims tortured
And of old people left helpless.
I long to alleviate the evil, but I cannot,
And I too suffer.

This has been my life; I found it worth living.

The embrace

She woke up to see the morning sun sigh,
The clouds stained with shades of grey dye,
At a distance, she heard the poignant cry of her angel,
She looked on to see a window tainted with tears.


As the clouds rolled in dark and mysterious,
She wept in vain for an answer for her trails,
And then she heard that proverbial voice whisper,
Hold on to my arms, I’ll never let go, my dear.


It still hurt, but the voice whispered on,
Hold on to my hand, I’ll help you keep going on,
She felt a strange magical sensation take over,
And her body and mind, electrified with hope.


She felt a caress of hope, wipe off her pain and misery,
She opened her eyes eagerly to see her Angel’s embrace,
There was neither an angel nor a cupid in sight,
For the angel was gone, back into its faraway place.

God's special children...

Collegue of mine and I went to the Dubai Centre for Special Needs yesterday for a visit as part of a CSR initiative. I’d never been to a special needs school ever in my life before, as I walked in, it looked like any other regular school. 

Nicely painted walls, children’s paintings and smiling staff; nothing really that differentiated this place from any other regular school. That was until Delhna (The school coordinator) started talking about the place. It was a school for autistic, mentally challenged and dyslexic children. It’s one of the oldest school of its kind in UAE and was started way back in the 80s. They have 100+ students currently and have a 1:1 student teacher(assistant) ratio and run majorly on donations. 

What was interesting was that 40% of the children came from deserving families. (deserving family being ,a family which cannot afford AED 30,000 yearly school fees). She went on to add, they’re always on the lookout for donations and are happier if we buy them the stuff and give it rather than just give them cash. We went on to ask ‘what items are you asking ppl for”. They’re basically looking for anything from Art class paints and library books to an additional school bus which is on their wish list. Delhna said ‘Out of these 100+ kids, the youngest in our school is a 4 year old Omar and the oldest is 28 year old Sameera who had her birthday yesterday; but whatever their physical age, mentally they were still children’. 

I could see from the corner of my eye that one of my colleagues had almost finished one tissue box, but my pride refused to get into the act of crying (so I just gulped and bottled up..for now) We discussed how Barclays, Abraaj, Jotun, Emirates Airlines or Jumeirah Hotels were helping the school in various monetary and non montary ways, and there are some fascinating stuff we could get involved with them. (Like how they get free paint from a paint manufacturer, but could not afford to hire workers to paint the place, so some guys from a certain investment bank came over and painted part of the place etc.) She then took us through a guided tour of the school. 

That 30 minute walk back has so many special moments, I may not be able to tell you, which one was more moving - Was it the wonderful painting silently being created by 22yr old Said in the art room , was it the 12 yr old girl bent over a wheel chair, with the Whoopie Goldberg grin who said she wanted to be a news reporter, was it the sight of 4 year old Omar with his shock or unkempt hair hugging my colleague, was it the sight of one child helping another on a wheel chair OR was it the sight of a 3 foot tall Sameera with an angelic smile . I don’t know which one touched me more. 

In these kids I didn’t find any selfishness, I couldn’t find any sorrow, anyone fighting or talking about irrelevant office gossip and worrying grey over it. I do know one thing, these are definitely God’s special gifts to humanity. They’ve been sent down here to show people like us, how fortunate we are and how our worries in life are so much more trivial in comparison.

 

(Names of children have been changed in this blog post on purpose)

Confessions of a wannabe cook - Part 2

Indian Style Chicken Curry - This one worked out quite well. aah...burp!..the satisfaction of a job well done :)

Confessions of a wannabe cook - Part 1

The Background : Ok, I confess...i've slowly starteg getting interested in cooking. I dont know if this has anything to do with my mental metabolism changing as I get older and grey, because it is a known fact that all through my college years and till a few years back, I have never been able to identify the difference of taste between a cookie and cuurry. Eating to me had always been an act driven by necessity and never an act of pleasure. Things change, and I guess so have I.

Today's Breaking (Eggs) News : Today’s motivation was to cook some 'Scotch eggs' with a twist for the weekend brunch .They were supposed to turn up as follows. Wonderfully perfect full boiled eggs fried and baked inside a wrapper mix including minced meat (or chicken breast minced), onions, salt/ pepper/ seasoning and rolled in bread crumbs. Imagine surprising your wife with this homemade fresh scotch eggs , some French bread and cheese on the side in the morning, on a lazy weekend. Ummmmm…not bad, what say?

So off we trooped to the neighbourhood supermarket. Picked up our stuff, cleared my wife off the kitchen …placed four eggs to boil. Got around making the chicken mix for the wrapper. We’re all set with the chicken mix on one hand, bread crumbs and flour on the other. I get around to breaking the shell of the eggs…and a classic wannabe Scotch Cook error happens..


Ready to begin – I started to shell and peel my eggs one by one, and here’s where the hurricane strikes…the wobbly bobbly soft boiled egg, perhaps slightly underdone was like a thing alive as I struggled to get all of the shell off, then it happened, a fissure opened in the white, and the whole thing started to collapse. I controlled my agony and continued. It’s ok, I have another three…. and then the same thing happened to the next one..AND THE NEXT ONE....AND THE NEXT ONE!!!!!!!!

…sigh!

I'm rethinking..maybe the guy who said ' Happiness is a bowl of cherries, and a good book to read, sitting under a tree" is not quite off base either....

Honey’s Cuts!!!

I went to this new barber (he calls himself a Senior hair stylist) earlier today, and all I had on my head is a shock full of hair waiting to be cut short and neat. I give him my instructions and to my dismay, he comes back to me with a zillion other questions – should I cut from the sides, would you like to keep whiskers, would you like your back line (whatever) shaped in a square or U, when you want the hair to grow back, they may change style and was that ok…

I had answers for some of the simpler questions, but they just kept getting tougher and tougher..i mean who ever had an answer for do I want my whiskers jagged or in an incline (I wondered if he was pulling my leg, seeing my ignorance). I was also in two minds to ask him if he could only cut off the grey hair on my head and not the black ones, but I decided against it.

Anyway, in all this frenzy of questions, I forgot to notice that the hair stylist was wearing pink pants under his white coat and had floral painted finger nails...I felt a cold chill go through my spine. I mean…is it legal to allow these kind of guys (or whatever genre they fit into) to roam around free ...and that too in a men’s hair salon!!!

To get the nervousness out of my system, I decided to engage in some small talk with the individual in discussion. I looked up at his name tag and it read ‘HANY”. So I said, “Hi Hany, nice weather over the weekend, isn’t it’ . She/ He smiled and replied “Oh, I cant get why you guys have to pronounce my name like that, My Name’s pronounced Honey…honey, you know the syrupy, gooey sweet thing..not Hany”

I fainted….