Greetings!

Wishing my friends, well-wishers and readers that the year 2010 would usher in prosperity and happiness of unimaginable proportions! Happy New Year!

Close Encounters with the Terrifying Kind

This happened about eight years ago, but the entire episode is imprinted in memory with a kind of clarity like it all happened yesterday. It was an evening; I was driving around for sometime and was just beginning to enjoy the summer breeze, when I spotted an old friend of my mine, Dinesh. He was walking hurriedly along the pedestrian path looking almost lost. I slipped in front of him and stopped my bike and we struck up a conversation about old times. At the end, when I enquired what he was doing stalking the streets? He quipped, “I am searching for a Clinic – an ENT specialist’s.” As I had barely anything important that evening, the Good Samaritan instincts sprang up, and I offered help even though he hadn’t asked for it. I guess, that’s how people foolishly play into the lion’s mouth, in my case, it was the Great Danes’.

To top it all, Dinesh didn’t have the exact address of this clinic so we were literally going in circles. For sometime, we looked more like the door-to-door salesmen knocking on every door, checking if it was the doctor’s clinic. The only difference was that it was dark anybody could have mistaken us for thugs instead of salesmen. After sometime, to avoid being mistaken for any of these two, I stayed on the bike, while my friend went around enquiring.

Halfway through our search, we came across a small rundown joint which looked like a carpenter’s makeshift. I saw no possibility why a doctor would run his clinic in such a ramshackle. But Dinesh, who was aggressive by nature, barged in without second thoughts, in other words, without any thought.

Inside, sat a man in front of a small table on which one bottle of RC (Royal Challenge) and a glass rested. Both were empty, indicating that the man had consumed the full bottle, and was now under the complete influence of the drink. Unmindfully, my friend enquired if it was the doctor’s clinic, the man nodded that it was and ushered him inside. Once Dinesh stood standing where the drunken man wanted him to, he screamed, “Tozzo!” and out came a four-foot high canine – a Great Dane. It emerged with a hungry look in its eye and its tongue licking its mouth obviously thinking that his master had bought some special delicacy for dinner that night. Looking at the size of the beast, Dinesh lost his cool, then his guts. Sweating profusely, he started addressing the drunken man as “Sir” and delivered apologies for intruding on his quiet time with his drink.

One glance at the beast, one part of my heart begged me to kick-start the bike and scurry away while the other enquired if it was ethically the right thing to do? Torn between the two, I held on to my bike like a lifeline, hoping that the dog owner wouldn’t notice me. This man started interrogating Dinesh on what made him think that his place was a clinic. My friend, after a few moments, along with his guts lost his speech too. His speech suddenly turned staccato and his face paler. It was while answering these questions that he shot a glance outside at me. The drunken man immediately sensed I was also an accomplice in disturbing his peace, summoned me inside. Though I didn’t want to become another victim of his drink, I obviously didn’t have another choice.

I thought, come rain or hailstorm, I will defend my friend with my life. But I realized that was foolhardiness when I stepped in and stood a few feet away from this lean but muscular dog. On watching the dog’s height and weight up-close, I suddenly had a strong urge to run. Bolt away to southern or northern hemisphere where there were no dogs! Under the circumstances, I would have even raced against Ussain Bolt and won and never give a damn about it!

Caught in this terrifying situation, my mind raced, trying to figure out a plan to escape the place unscratched, which on all parameters looked impossible. I heard the drunken man ask some questions, which I intentionally didn’t answer. I thought any answer would aggravate his temper, which I sensed, was precariously perched at the edge of a precipice. Unfortunately, my silence only challenged his drunken stupor. He rose. For a minute; I thought he would strike me. But instead he screamed, this time, “Bozzo!” I didn’t know where this creature was lurking till then, but out it came. Another Great Dane! This, built-wise, was stronger and looked more ferocious than the other one. Shocked, my heart did a quick summersault in my ribcage while I stood dead in the tracks gulping down fear.

Whatever fight was left in me simply evaporated as beads of perspiration quietly descended down my side locks. My thoughts raced. Body stood paralyzed. I thought Dinesh and I could fight one dog. But definitely not two. Then realisation dawned. Our lifelines were now in the hands of this drunken man. One pull at them, if not dead, we could easily end up in a hospital. I shot my prayers up. I guess Dinesh did too. We hoped for the dogs to pounce on us any moment. We waited. Nothing happened.

I didn’t know what came over the drunken man but he had a sudden change of heart. He smiled at us. “Since this is your first time, I will excuse you both” he cried. So relieved was I that I felt like hugging this very man, who, a few moments ago, threatened to throw us to his dogs. With his words came the assurance that the dogs wouldn’t harm us. Before he changed his mind, Dinesh and I quickly but cautiously made our way to the door. It was after a good 5-minute drive from this place did any of us speak. Dinesh cried, “What does this idiot think of himself? I will report him to police.” All along the way Dinesh let out a relentless list of abuses. I, for one, was too shocked to say anything. Even when I dropped him at his place, we hardly spoke. We were that overwhelmed with fear.

After this, I couldn’t meet Dinesh for various reasons. Later, I heard he moved to Dubai. But it was at a recent Christian concert that I noticed him talking to somebody. I quickly walked over and said, “Hello.” He turned around and flashed his usual smile and shook my hand vigorously. Looking me in the eye, the first thing he said was, “Do you remember that day?” Even before he said anything, I exclaimed, “How can I ever forget it?” Then both of us burst into a hearty laugh.

Because you loved me!

Many years ago, while I was on the way from a client meeting my eyes fell on Celine Dion’s cassette in a music shop. I immediately stepped in to grab a hold of it. Then, Celine Dion was quite a new kid on the block (This was before Titanic song happened to her) as such not many knew how good a singer she was…at least on this side of the world. But still there was a fear that she could be a hot property among music lovers, hence, the hurry to get hold of the cassette. Once, I had gone through the list of songs at the back of the cassette cover of her album “Falling into you” I bought it with no second thoughts. Because the list had a song that secretly haunted my memories ever since I first heard it on MTV. The song was, “It’s all coming back to me now.”

Every day, after I returned from work, I would listen to this diva of music and her other contemporaries. After having heard all her songs my preferences suddenly took a change. The song, for which I bought the cassette, slid to a second place as another of her song replaced the first slot. The other song was simply fabulous! It was called “Because you loved me.” The song had a kind of depth, which I haven’t found in any of her other songs. Not just the voice but the music and lyrics too blended in extremely well.

Later I came to understand that “Because you loved me” won a Grammy Award.

But sadly, my joy was short-lived. While I was away, one of my brothers’ friends borrowed the cassette. And that was the last I ever saw of it. How much ever I searched for the album in the stores I couldn’t locate it. But I guess internet has its ways of throwing surprises at you. When I Google-searched for the song “Because you loved me,” it also gave video versions of it. So, here is the song I love the most along with my other Celine Dion favourites. Go ahead, check them out!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ve4XD4LveU0 (Because you loved me)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QAKpu72Kugw (It’s all coming back to me now)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mtFS0Lw1FB0 (That’s the way it is)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yd1uEvyzCmM (My heart will go on)

A Trip to Gulbarga

Music is something that has always eluded my mind. Although I have tried my hand on playing several musical instruments, I have actually never been able to master one completely. To top it all, as if its fate’s way of rubbing salt on wounds, all my close friends are brilliant musicians. One of them has even released a music album. Another is teaching music in the Middle East. Still another is a music director for the films. Sigh.

Amidst this trauma, what is a little consoling is that I manage to play a bit of guitar and keyboards. But that’s it. Beyond that I am a dunce. Therefore, it was a bolt from the blues when a University in Gulbarga sent a letter requesting me to come and judge their music competitions. I remember them sending me a similar letter two years ago. After much coaxing, I agreed. But I thought that would be the last time. But I guess I was wrong!

Besides, the situation had been different last year. I had relatives in Gulbarga. I had time to splurge. I had my friend who rolled out a music album accompany me as a judge. This time, everything was haywire. I didn’t even have the choice of tagging my friend along as the authorities had already arranged judges from other states. What was relieving though was I had to judge Western music and not Carnatic or Hindustani classical music, which could have made my life miserable, unless I knew all the ragas, which I doubt.

Since the professors knew me on a personal level, I was compelled to take the trip. Stricken with fear about the role I would don, I undertook the journey to Gulbarga. When I hit the city around 2 am in the night there wasn’t a soul in sight. The roads looked curfew-laden. Not wishing to barge into the university and wake up authorities, and declare my presence at that unearthly hour, I scouted for a hotel to stay for the night. I found that all the good hotels were taken. I cursed myself for not reserving a room in advance. Finally, just before the crack of dawn, I located a place. The hotel wasn’t any great shakes, but just enough to sleep away the tiredness.

The search had me exhausted totally. So, I crashed immediately. Crazily, I had a bad dream involving music. It was all hazy, couldn’t make out what it was about. That apart, when the alarm went off, the ghosts of music returned to haunt me about the competition that lay ahead. Suddenly, my hands and feet turned clammy. I wished I was dead.

Next day, we received a hearty welcome at the university. I was introduced to other two judges. One guy, Yousuf, who supposedly did vocals for a Bangalore-based band and other lady, a very good looking one, was a classical singer herself. Both were from Bangalore. That put me at a definite disadvantage as they frequently chatted in Kanada of which I could make no head or tails. But in the end, we three hit it off well as we seem to be bond by one common “cord” – music.

Unlike what I expected, the competition turned out to be a pleasant experience with singers doling out songs of Celine Dion, Back Street Boys, Abba and other groups…but unfortunately nobody sang any of MJ’s numbers. Sad! Although the participants picked up good numbers, either they jumped the scale, or their voices cracked, or they were completely off key. Only a few were good. Moreover, there was this group that appeared on stage dressed in immaculate suits but sang the entire song out of tune! I wondered what they thought it was: a fancy dress competition or a singing competition.

Since there were only a few groups which sang professionally, it made our judges’ work dead easy. We could narrow down the winners quite easily. Once satisfied with the outcome, we all loosened up. We took a short break for tea before we dispersed for good.

Even before I realized the competitions were over, I was heading home. With the dreaded contest coming to an end, my tensions disappeared. After living life on the edge, the return journey filled my heart with a lightness that can only be explained by an individual whose death sentence has just been pardoned.

Mirza Ghalib

Currently I am half way through Salman Rushdie’s Enchantress of Florence. The book is slow-paced but profound. What I like about Rushdie is his extraordinary grasp on the English language. No wonder his writing is laced with smoothness akin to running one’s work-hardened and weather-beaten fingers through finely spun silk. Exquisite!

The book, Enchantress of Florence, opens on our own Mirza Ghalib’s words that have neither lost the charm nor the beauty even after being translated into English. A.S. Kline worked on the translation. Here is the piece that stole my heart.

If there is a knower of tongues here, fetch him; there’s a stranger in the city.
And he has many things to say.

The sphere.

"Congo" was the first movie I ever bunked college to watch. It was a bold move considering that I hadn’t done anything of that kind before. Inside theatre, my eyes were shifty, afraid that someone might locate me! However, I enjoyed the movie. It was breathtakingly beautiful. Shot in the dense African tropical rainforests, it was all about transporting back a friendly Ape to the Congo basin in South Africa and searching for the Solomon’s temple where the promise of discovering diamonds loomed large.

However, what the expedition troop didn’t know was guarding this hidden treasure were apes. Apes trained to ruthlessly kill anyone who comes near the diamonds. The entire movie was gripping and fast-paced. I might have seen the movie like 5 times and over. Not just because it had a wonderful plot but also to watch Laura Linney on whom I had a huge crush then.

But only later I came to know the movie was an adaptation of the book “Congo” by Michael Crichton. My respect for the author swiftly rose. Crichton also authored Jurassic Park and The Lost World, which, we know, were later converted into big-budget movies that kept box-office registers ringing. This in itself is self-explanatory of Crichton’s abilities as a writer with superb imagination.

But his bulky books always dampened my reading spirit. I thought who has time to kill on such voluminous tomes? But the other day, when I read the blurb behind his book, Sphere, I found it very absorbing. I couldn’t stop bringing this book home.

Expectedly, Sphere turned out to be mind-blowing. Hinged around Einstein’s theory of relativity, accentuating on refraction of time, it’s about an alien spaceship that has suddenly showed up on the Pacific Ocean bed. Moreover, the unique mix of metal and plastic alloys on board speaks of a technology that is clearly not of this era.

With control manuals unmistakably scripted in English, it was imperative the spaceship has time-traveled from the future. But the crew on board somehow seems to be missing. What further remains an indecipherable puzzle is the existence of a Sphere on board. No one takes notice of it initially. But when it starts sending hostile messages onto the computer screen, that’s when complete chaos sets in.

The book was phenomenal. Hooked on to it, I didn’t realize it was 3 am and pitchy dark outside when I finally finished reading it.

Michael Crichton sure knows how to keep you glued to the book.

Remember me? Made me remember the author.

When someone I know, after sensing my penchant for reading, handed six books of various, distinguished authors. I was dumbstruck at the generous gesture. But what took me by surprise was I have barely known this individual for two months. Yet, he heartily gave away the books. May his bighearted tribe increase!

“Remember me?” by Sophie kinsella was one among them. When I grasped the blurb’s essence at the back, I realized the book would suffocate me by immersing in an overwhelming tub of emotions. I still can’t really get to the root why women are controlled by and sometimes swept away with emotions. Frankly, I really can’t. And god help me for that! ;)

Nonetheless, I decided to take the emotional trip offered by Kinsella. For one reason, the book sounded unusually different. Secound, it promised an element of mystery that could be unfurled only after spending considerable time. Moreover, the person who donated the book lavished praise on the writer. Naturally, among the six books, my first read began with “Remember me?”

The story opens on the heroine having a faint recollection of a minor accident. Further down the pages, we find the fall had unfortunately blacked out her memory of last 3 years. During which she had actually managed to steadily climb the company’s corporate ladder to become one of its powerful board members, become a yoga and gym-crazy individual, got a dental job done that made her look coy, married an achingly handsome man, and not to say the least, drawn a bulky pay packet.

Unfortunately, she remembers none of these. The complete turmoil that floods her mind at this stage is what the whole story is about. While she is still sorting out her disjointed memory, there steps in another individual with a bombshell. When he drops it, all hell breaks lose for her. Her whole world is suddenly upside down.

Sophie Kinsella scores good points with her compelling book. The thought behind such a solid storyline undoubtedly raises her IQ bar a few notches up. Honestly, how many could really think of stories that are whacky at the same time gripping? After having read "Remember me?", my trust in Kinsella’s narrating skills has sky-rocketed. I am confident that her other books would also be equally intense.

Next time, I am out scouting for books; I’ll ensure her name is infused in memory along with other authors I generally keep my eyes open for. Watch out Kinsella...here I come.

Mango Juice Trickling Through Fingers.

After a long time, I had the opportunity of relishing sliced pieces of a sweet mango. My mom handed them on a plate with a tiny fork. Munching on these, my mind quickly wandered to childhood days.

As kids, we used to fight tooth and nail over a mango seed. That is because the seed almost always contained a larger portion of the mango pulp. This, consequently, stood as a contest. The kid who finally got his hands on the seed had won. Hands down! Hands gooey! When I think back on those days I only smile. Then, there was no fear of being taunted. No fear of getting your hands gooey. No fear of looking silly slurping on a mango seed. Only the delight of eating the mango.

As grown-ups, I find we are suddenly straight jacketed with rules and regimes. We rarely follow our heart. Most often we follow what others think is right. We don’t set trends. In a way, we have lost our own true identity. We have become another cog in the wheel. That’s quite sad.

While I was still munching on the tiny mango pieces a strange thought crossed my mind. I smiled to myself. I yelled to my mom in the kitchen. “Mom, do you still have the mango seed.” As expected the answer was yes.

So, before I could stop him, the kid in me leaped and dashed to the kitchen…

Rules? Who cares!!

A son's Letter to His Mom.

Someone sent me this e-mail, it was so nice, I didn't feel like keeping it to myself. So, here it is:

She jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room. She said: 'How is my little boy? Is he going to be all right? When can I see him?' The surgeon said, 'I'm sorry. We did all we could, but your boy didn't make it.'

Sally said, 'Why do little children get cancer? Doesn't God care any more? Where were you, God, when my son needed you?'

The surgeon asked, 'Would you like some time alone with your son? One of the nurses will be out in a few minutes, before he's transported to the university.

Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while she said good bye to son. She ran her fingers lovingly through his thick red curly hair. 'Would you like a lock of his hair?' the nurse asked. Sally nodded yes.. The nurse cut a lock of the boy's hair, put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Sally.

The mother said, 'It was Jimmy's idea to donate his body to the University for Study. He said it might help somebody else... 'I said no at first, but Jimmy said, 'Mom, I won't be using it after I die. Maybe it will help some other little boy spend one more day with his Mom..' She went on, 'My Jimmy had a heart of gold. Always thinking of someone else. Always wanting to help others if he could.'

Sally walked out of Children's Mercy Hospital for the last time, after spending most of the last six months there. She put the bag with Jimmy's belongings on the seat beside her in the car.

The drive home was difficult. It was even harder to enter the empty house. She carried Jimmy's belongings, and the plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her son's room.She started placing the model cars and other personal things back in his room exactly where he had always kept them She lay down across his bed and, hugging his pillow, cried herself to sleep.

It was around midnight when Sally awoke. Lying beside her on the bed was a folded letter. The letter said:

'Dear Mom,

I know you're going to miss me; but don't think that I will ever forget you, or stop loving you, just 'cause I'm not around to say 'I Love You'. I will always love you, Mom, even more with each day.. Someday we will see each other again. Until then, if you want to adopt a little boy so you won't be so lonely, that's okay with me. He can have my room and old stuff to play with.. But, if you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn't like the same things us boys do. You'll have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like, you know.

Don't be sad thinking about me.. This really is a neat place. Grandma and Grandpa met me as soon as I got here and showed me around some, but it will take a long time to see everything. The angels are so cool. I love to watch them fly. And, you know what? Jesus doesn't look like any of his pictures. Yet, when I saw Him, I knew it was Him. Jesus himself took me to see GOD! And guess what, Mom? I got to sit on God's knee and talk to Him, like I was somebody important.

That's when I told Him that I wanted to write you a letter, to tell you good bye and everything. But I already knew that wasn't allowed. Well, you know what Mom? God handed me some paper and His own personal pen to write you this letter I think Gabriel is the name of the angel who is going to drop this letter off to you. God said for me to give you the answer to one of the questions you asked Him 'where was He when I needed him?' 'God said He was in the same place with me, as when His son Jesus was on the cross. He was right there, as He always is with all His children.

Oh, by the way, Mom, no one else can see what I've written except you. To everyone else this is just a blank piece of paper. Isn't that cool? I have to give God His pen back now He needs it to write some more names in the Book of Life. Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for supper. I'm sure the food will be great.Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I don't hurt anymore the cancer is all gone.. I'm glad because I couldn't stand that pain anymore and God couldn't stand to see me hurt so much, either. That's when He sent The Angel of Mercy to come get me. The Angel said I was a Special Delivery! How about that?

Signed with Love from God, Jesus & Me.

Brand Equity Quiz 2009

Brand Equity Quiz – I wouldn’t mind giving my right hand to be present at the event. In fact, I look forward for the quiz the entire year. When it’s over, I am left with a feeling that the whole year is finished and I have reached December 31. That’s precisely the impact of Brand Equity Quiz on me!

I guess it is one event the whole corporate world, across the length and breadth of India, anxiously waits to be a part of. The quiz probably acts like an invisible barometer, testing the mettle of the corporate industry’s intellectual resources. Consequently, the moment your company moves to the top position, you know, you have the sharpest minds on the payroll. Therefore, it doesn’t come as a surprise to watch topnotch organizations battle it out tooth and nail to grab the winning spot. Well, if not for the quiz, the teams would definitely fight for the national grand prize: Mahindra Scorpios.

However, to qualify for the nationals, one has to secure a win among the various local teams on the home turf. As a result, the teams battled it out at Hyderabad to qualify for the nationals in the lush green lawns of Taj Banjara under the twilight sky on 19 April ’09. As always, Derek O' Brien played the audience like a harp. He was in total control right from the word ‘go’. Yeah! A walking dynamo! You could sense imperceptible sparks fly off him. He knows when to pull off a gag, when to keep you numb with suspense, and when to make your heart do a yo yo. Like every year, he had a theme this year too. Last year, the theme was “Old Hindi Movies.” So everything was in tune with the theme. This year, the quiz was dedicated to blind people. And you could see on the background screen Louis Braille’s words slowly take shape, “Ignorance is complete darkness.” And Derek’s line, which he used quite often during the quiz, “Let me lead you from darkness to light” was very apt for the evening.

Unfortunately, I missed the preliminary round as I got stuck in the traffic. By the time I reached the venue, Derek was reeling out the answers for the prelims. I simply couldn’t forgive myself for not starting from home early. But luckily, after the coffee break, I was able to grab a front seat which presented me with a ringside view. Anyway, the six teams that made it to the final rounds at Hyderabad were Vizag Steel, Google, Microsoft, Satyam, JWT Mindset and TIME. The competition among these teams was stiff. As the evening turned cooler, the excitement got hotter. The teams were sharp, the quiz master, sharper. As usual, the crowd loved the combo!

What really drives you nuts about the quiz is that the audience is as charged up as the contestants. That’s because every now and then, Derek walks into the audience throws a question at them. If you happen to answer a question correctly, he will give you half dozen prizes. That is, if he is not in his good spirits! If you catch him in his good spirits, he wouldn’t mind giving you the prizes but also to the entire row in which you are seated! Mind you, the prizes aren’t some tidbits. They could be anything from a bottle of scotch to expensive gift vouchers from Lawrence and Mayo to free travel trips to various places. Of course, the real icing on the cake was an expensive high-end Samsung Phone, which Derek gave out to someone in the crowd.

At the fag-end of the event, only two teams were neck to neck in the competition --Vizag Steel and JWT Mindset. Although my favourite team was Vizag Steel, but as I am true blue Hyderabadi my support went out to the Hyderabad team -- JWT Mindset. Vizag Steel stands as my favourite because of their consistent performance in Brand Equity Quiz. Every year you see them clear the prelims and reach the top. But this time, unfortunately, the buzzer round spelled doom for Vizag Steel as JWT mindset team hammered the final nail on the opponents’ coffin by pressing the buzzer and giving out the correct answer.

When Derek, at the end of the show, announced that there were free drinks for everyone, although I don’t drink, my head was already dizzy with excitement. You really got to hand it out to Derek for making Brand Equity Quiz a classy event!

OraFest ‘09 at Infosys

Infosys was ablaze on 29 March 09.

It sizzled with unbridled talent as the participants of speech contest at the OraFest ’09 fought with a fire in their belly that is rarely witnessed! Eventually, the tough-minded and tough-spirited emerged out of the furnace more fluent, more knowledgeable, and, of course, with a sparkling bronze trophy in their hands.

This was the first time I attended Toastmasters and I enjoyed it thoroughly. I guess there exist about 10-12 clubs in the city. Unfortunately, I came to know of them only a couple of weeks ago. Sigh. Anyway, I would have never known about them, had it not been for my brother who dug out and sent me details of various clubs located in and around Hyderabad. And when I caught wind of OraFest ‘09 at Infosys, I simply couldn’t stop myself from attending it. I think it’s an annual fest where members of various clubs congregate. Among them, a select few members participate in the speech contests.

The speech contests were fun. The topics were funnier. Some of the topics were like “One Last Chance” “Me, the impossible”…so on. It was exciting watching the contestants dole out gripping talks on weird topics. With the speakers in action, you could easily decipher that the clubs were doing their job well! I mean damn well! All of them were so bold and confident on stage; you know they have been honing their oratory skills all along. Frankly, they were some speakers who deserved a standing ovation. The participants were gauged on various parameters such as pronunciation, speed; staying on topic…when the competition concluded, it was no doubt a nail-biting finish.

Before the curtains came down on Orafest ’09, the MC announced that the winners in this competition would automatically qualify for the main event “Ovations ’09" at Sri Lanka in May '09. Surprise! Surprise! All the club members were also invited to Sri Lanka as long as they bear their own travel expenses. Boy! How I wanted to be a part of that troop to Sri Lanka. But the part, I would have to make my own travel arrangements since all have already booked their tickets, took the air out of me! That’s when I decided to stay in India than go alone to Sri Lanka. Anyway, correct me if I am wrong, isn’t there a war going on in Sri Lanka? ;)

What's more, I have never been to Infosys before, therefore, was quite stunned to see the sprawling acres of greenery dotted with myriad colorful flowers. At Infosys, anybody would get a feeling of being transported to another country. The ambience is simply out-of-this-world. The wide stretch of asphalt amidst landscaped greenery, the morning sunlight drenching the freshly blossomed flowers, the delicate balance of nature with the architectural splendour, the soothing silence…Man, you are in a different world. All I can say is lucky infosysians.

Anyway, I am looking forward to attend the Toastmasters club on a regular beat! Phew! There is still so much to learn in life!

Sublime Thoughts

A thought that’s a rocker!

I would rather live my life as if there is a God,
and die to find out there isn't, than live my life
as if there isn't, and die to find out there is.

For those following my blog: I know, I know. The spiritual dose on here is getting slightly heavier, so I am going to tone it down a bit. The next post would be on the devil and his attributes. Nah ;). I am just kidding!!! Yes, I will tone down the spiritual part a bit though.

Movies

When I think of movies, my memory instantly opens up a cupboard inside which are all kinds of DVDs lined from rack to rack. All I got to say is, “Search.” The DVDs on the rack stand up and spin in a slow circle giving me an opportunity to have a cursory glance at the DVD covers - a peek enough to decipher the title and understand whether the movie is a tragedy or a comedy or an action-filled or a classic. Although numerous movies are stocked up, when it comes to classics, only two movies spin in my memory. Movies which hadn’t had any competition during the time they were playing in the theatres or for that matter even now - Ben-Hur and The Ten Commandments.

Both these movies are worth watching. Not only for their fantastic storylines but also for the way these movies were shot. The directors seem to have put their heart and soul into creating them. I read somewhere that when somebody ridiculed Cecil B. DeMille, the director, that he was taking a hell of a time to complete the movie “The Ten Commandments”. I heard, he retorted, “Do you want me to complete the movie quickly and release it as, “The Five Commandments?” A perfectionist he was. It didn’t matter even if he took his time but he undoubtedly delivered a masterpiece!

Now, what made me think about movies? Well, it was something I read about a couple of days ago. I was leafing through a book titled, “The Logic of Faith” by Dale Rhoton when I stumbled upon an interesting truth. A truth that could have stayed buried in the book had I not read it. The truth, I knew had fanned a negligible spark to such fiery flames that it warmed many a heart in the form of the movie - Ben-Hur.

In fact, Ben-Hur always intrigued my mind; I used to ponder: The storyline is amazing, who could have scripted such a wonderful classic? Only recently did I come to know about the man and the circumstances that compelled him to write such a fascinating book – Ben-hur, which later was converted into a movie. I could clearly make out that the inspiration was not from any man. Had it been from a man, it would have petered out easily. The fact that it still touches many a heart, amazes everyone! Here is a gist of the story of the man behind the scripting of the book – Ben-Hur. I quote from the book “The Logic of Faith”

“General Lew Wallace, was an outstanding example of a complete reversal of belief. While traveling on a train he met another well-known atheist, Colonel Robert G. Ingersoll. The two became deeply immersed in conversation about the foolishness of Christianity. Suddenly Colonel Ingersoll looked straight at General Wallace and challenged him, “You are intelligent and highly educated. Why don’t you write a book that Christianity is absurd and Jesus Christ never even lived? Such a book would be a master piece!”

Filled with the idea of obtaining fame, General Wallace spent several years collecting material for the great book. Then he began to write. Only four chapters were completed when General Wallace began to realize that Jesus Christ was even more than just an historical person. As a man of fifty years of age, General Wallace knelt to pray for the first time in his life and asked Jesus Christ to become his Saviour.

The vast amount of research which General Wallace had done was not wasted. He re-wrote the first four chapters and went on to complete the narrative which has thrilled thousands of people throughout the world – Ben-Hur."

This is the story of General Lee Wallace. This is also the story how Ben-Hur came into existence. If I am not mistaken, Ben-Hur was shot way back in 1959. But it still stands unruffled by time. With many remarkable writers and much technological advancement the movie industry has witnessed, I don’t think it is easy to shoot another Ben-Hur equivalent. I think that is largely because Ben-Hur is a story that is not told from the mind, but from the heart.

Cheers to General Lee Wallace!

Good Intentions

I read this story somewhere. My mind is hazy about where I picked it from. However, the story is etched in my mind with crystal clarity. I found it interesting. I thought I would share it with my readers too. This is how it goes:

Once, there lived two pious monks. Their lives completely dedicated to the divine one, leaving no room for worldly or carnal pleasures. On one occasion, they were compelled to undertake a long and tedious journey which would see them cross many a river and a mountain. While they were on this daunting path that they encountered poison ivies, venomous reptiles and wild animals -- being alert to danger -- they tactfully avoided them. But it was when they arrived at the banks of a river, they were perplexed at the situation that stared them in their face. Standing at the river bank was a very, very beautiful woman. Afraid that the flowing waters would carry her downstream, she was anxiously waiting for someone to carry her onto the other side of the river.

Both the monks looked at each other not knowing what to do. Should they leave the woman where she is and not offer any help. Or should they carry her to the other side of the river and defile their thinking. Both possibilities spoke of unpleasant results.

But one of the monks immediately offered help. He picked her up, carried her on his back and crossed the river along with the other monk. After crossing the river he placed the woman down. She thanked him. He nodded and embarked on his journey again. After the two monks traveled some distance, one of them questioned, “We are monks. How could you carry her, for that matter, even touch her?”

To which his friend replied, “I have put the woman down after crossing the river. Why is it that you are still carrying her?”

Sachin Tendulkar Shook Hands with me Yesterday.

Last night I went to a high profile wedding. I had received the invitation 16 days in advance, giving me enough time to decide whether to skip the wedding or tag along with another friend who is also invited. Actually, it was my former boss’s daughter’s wedding. I could easily understand the wedding will see the who’s who of the town. So, exposure-wise, it would do me an immense good. But then again, I am not the kind who would put on façade and hang around with people I don’t get along well with. It’s clearly not my cup of tea. And this wedding would definitely have a potpourri of personalities who may not gel with me. On the flip side, this wedding would give me an opportunity to zero in on people who would require our agency’s services. That way, attending the wedding would leverage the volume of my business. So, carefully weighing the pros and cons, I finally decided to attend it. Donned in formals with a gift tucked under my arm, I hit the wedding reception.

My jaw dropped when I saw the magnificently decorated venue with all the top brass of the city. It had everyone you would swoon over. I mean everybody who is somebody. Under the starlit sky the place dazzled with flashy designer wear, laughter and cool music. Trees were decked with incandescent lights like a bride. Soft jazz, like that of Kenny G’s, floated in the air. Men were dressed to make an impression while women were dressed to kill! Guests casually strolled delicately balancing wine glasses in their fingers. A few others were having close talks with loud guffaws in between. I saw some Telugu cine actors and actresses queuing up to hand over gifts and blessings to the couple. The whole place reeked of exquisite wealth and grandeur.

From the corner of the eye I could notice a few stars, not the ones scattered above in the black expanse of the sky, but those who light up a twinkle of recognition in the eye when you see them. And then suddenly my eyes fell on someone. I couldn’t believe my eyes that he was there. My heart stopped beating. My mind became numb for a moment. He’s someone the whole world longs to be photographed with. Cricket is the word that links him. No, not Harsha Bogle! One of the finest Indian batsmen, a man feared and revered for his batting skills. Yes, Sachin Tendulkar!

Attired in a double breasted blue suit with a dark matching tie against a white shirt, he looked elegant! I tracked him all through the evening as he greeted guests with his trade-mark shy smile. Everyone seemed jubilant at his presence! Some were taking autographs.

Finally, the crowds started thinning around midnight. Even I decided to leave after bidding goodbye to my former boss. While I was having a final chat with my boss, I suddenly felt a pat on my shoulder. I turned around to find Sachin Tendulkar smiling. He said, “Hi, how are you?” I was like zapped. I mean literally blown apart. I stammered, “I am fine, thank you. How about you, sir?” (I don’t remember whether the queen gave him “Sir” or not but I certainly remember saying sir). Then he looked at the host, smiled and said, “Do you know Daniel is a very fine cricketer?” I was like, “Huh?” I did play some cricket when I was in school and college but not in a way that would interest Sachin to watch. He added to our host, “You remember the sweep shots I play when I face spin bowling; he used to play just like me.”

I was going nuts and my mind started running helter-skelter. Trying to pick the year and the day when I played cricket while Sachin watched. Flash back. The year was 1989. I found myself driving the ball to the boundary. I only had one pad tied to my left leg. Not that it was customary then to tie one pad, but we, 15-year-olds, didn’t have the money to buy two pairs of pads for the opener and the other batsman. Even as the images of our live cricket of 80’s slowly started filling my head, I could see there was no sight of Sachin. No where.

Back to 2009. I was staring dumbfounded at Sachin. Nothing he was talking was making sense. That’s when someone scampered to us and said to the host, “Sir, there has been a small fire mishap at the back of the stage but thankfully nobody is hurt. We have informed the fire service; they would be here any moment.” Even while he was saying that we could hear the ear-piercing sirens of a fire engine. The sirens simply grew louder, louder and louder. It was like there was no stopping!

That’s when I suddenly woke up out of my sleep.

Stared at the phone from where the ear-piercing alarm sounds emanated. In a flash, everyone and everything interesting disappeared -- Sachin Tendulkar, my former boss, the wedding and the guests. I realized all this was only a dream. Ear piercing sirens were not from the fire engine but from my alarm on the phone. Last night I put an alarm on my mobile to get up early so I could go for a jog. That's what actually woke me up.

It was five-thirty in the morning. As I was putting on my jogging tracks, I thought to myself, “Sachin watching me play cricket, my foot! This could happen only in dreams.”

P.S: The wedding was real. Yes, all the high profile guests did arrive, except for Sachin Tendulkar ;). But unfortunately I had missed out on the wedding as well as the reception due to my other prior engagements. The thought I missed the party…gave me the dream. The dream gave me the post. The post gave me a high. ;)

Cheers to Satyam’s Ramalingam Raju!

The post, before few earlier posts, was about an accident. I never thought I would be scripting about another accident so early. But life, sometimes, hurls at us some unpleasant surprises at really unexpected times. Moreover, this incident happened only a few days ago. So it is very much alive in my mind, therefore the post. It was around 3 pm few days ago, that I and my friend stepped out of our office building and were scurrying out, when we noticed a figure slumped on the stairs of the adjacent building. As we walked closer, we noticed that this man was lying face down and had a head injury and the stairs were all profusely marked by his blood.

First, we were stunned. Then we were worried wondering whether he was dead or alive.

Just then I saw a painter (Whom I knew) sitting and smoking a cigarette only few yards away from this man. Looking at the slumped figure, I asked the painter, “What happened?” He said, “He had a seizure and fell on his head on the stairs.” Then I enquired “Why isn’t anybody doing anything about it?” He said, “Don’t bother, he is mentally retarded”. I screamed, “Are you nuts?” My friend too chipped in and yelled, “After all he is a human. Why don’t you call somebody for help?” To which he questioned, “Whom should I call?” We were both appalled at his indifference. We even noticed some college students pass-by this man but they didn’t even give him a second glance.

We were too shocked to do anything. At the same time, we wanted to help this poor man. Listening to our conversation with the painter, one guy stepped closer and said, “Why don’t you call 108?” Yes, calling 108 would be the right thing to do, I thought.

108 in Andhra Pradesh is an emergency ambulance service which picks up accident victims and administers medical aid. If the victim is too critical, the paramedical staff on the ambulance takes the responsibility of rushing him to the nearest hospital.

I was extremely doubtful about the service. Usually there is a lot of appreciation, government approval and media coverage when the service is launched. After sometime the enthusiasm simply dies down. I thought it would be the same with this service. But when I dialed the number I got a response on the very first ring. The voice on the other end, noted what had happened and asked me to hang on while he put me in contact with the nearest 108 ambulance. The ambulance driver took the address and in precisely 4 minutes and 20 secounds arrived in his vehicle with blaring sirens.

Having heard the story from our side, the paramedical staff on the ambulance took the accident victim and treated him for injuries. After his head was bandaged, he was discharged as they found that there were no internal injuries but only external.

For those who aren’t aware, although state government is currently running the 108 service, it was actually launched by none other than Satyam’s Ramalingam Raju. To me, Ramalingam Raju comes across as a pious soul. Had he not squealed under pressure, he would have been looked upon as an Indian god of IT. In a way, he was at least honest enough to confess fraud. Frankly, how many business men are confessing to committing fraud? How many politicians are taking responsibility for corruption charges? How many government employees are admitting to taking bribes? None I know of, except Raju, who for reasons best known to him, had confessed that he committed fraud. In other words, he is an honest individual, I should say.

Although Ramalingam Raju is languishing in jail, he has at least set in motion a process that ensures immediate medical treatment to accident victims. Ramalingam Raju, for once, deserves sincere praise!

The Salsa Days

It was while we were trying to learn a Spanish song ahead of our Spanish class Freshers’ Party that I suddenly saw a hand pushed in my direction and the face that was attached to the hand had an infectious smile which jubilantly cried, "Hola, soy Juliet. ¿Cómo se llama usted?" (Hi, I am Juliet, what’s your name?)

That’s how my friendship with Juliet, a Spaniard, began. She was one of those rare individuals for whom boundaries dissolved instantly and circle of friends grew quickly. If not for her skin colour nobody would ever guess that she was a foreigner in a strange land. India - a strange land? Of course, where else would you find buffaloes walking majestically on the road, while buses try to invade the territory of pedestrians? Or garbage strewn on roads as if it’s the place to throw? Or the erratic, puzzling traffic flow. Yet, she never let out a whimper or a hint that India is a shabby place with lot of things that could irk a foreigner easily.

But then it was her nature that anybody would fall for - bubbly, fun-loving, above all, helpful to those around. From a large group that arrived on an exchange programme from different parts of South America like Panama, El Salvador, Guatemala and Brazil and Spain to CIEFL (A university, which is now called EFL), she was the only individual who was always found with Indian students. Discussing, learning, and seeking answers of the land which is perennially mysterious to the westerners.

One Friday evening our Spanish lecturer gathered students around and without mincing words said, “Spanish is not just about learning the language, it’s about getting to the roots of Spanish culture, tradition, heritage and all. You got to know everything that is remotely connected to Spanish.” She hasn’t even finished saying that when someone screamed, “Then, how come we are only learning Spanish and not salsa which is an integral part of Spanish culture?”

That brought the house down, but not the professor’s interest in teaching everything intricately interwoven with the Spanish language. That’s how learning salsa dance became a part of our Spanish classes.

And guess who taught us? Yeah! Juliet.

Nobody knew she could dance, but when she did, she blew our minds away. Frankly, salsa dance songs have a rhythm that could make a paralytic get up and dance. I mean it’s so lively and full of life. The way two individuals move like one, it’s absolutely electrifying. With Juliet as our salsa teacher, we, around 12 of us: six boys and six girls, soon learned to dance to her tunes. We practiced every day for the grand finale -- the Freshers’ Party. During the practice, we unconsciously lingered around munching on spicy samosas, sipping hot chai in paper glasses, discussing Spanish sitting on the building ledges late into the night -- an experience that will remain frozen in hearts for long.

The Spanish class Freshers’ Party was both mind-blowing and sorrowful. Mind-blowing because we discovered new friends, hidden talents, above all a greater love for Spanish language! Sorrowful because Juliet had to leave to Spain just a day before the Freshers’ Party and couldn’t see how we fared at salsa! But we all did great, I mean, as per the class feedback!

Many years have rolled by, since I stopped learning Spanish. However, a couple of days ago, I had an opportunity to meet an old Spanish classmate at EFL. We had a chat about the good old times in the canteen while the music system there belted out an old number by Bryan Adams, “Summer of 69”. My mind froze, when Bryan Adams, as if reading my mind, sang the lines…“Those were the best days of my life…”

My Likes and Dislikes

Finally, I have decided to go ahead with it. If someone wants to call me a copycat, I don’t mind. I am going to list out my likes and dislikes akin to many others who have done so on their blogs. For all I know, nobody holds a copyright for this thought. Even if one did, I would still think of ways of putting up my list. ;) So here they are: what I adore and detest the most.

1.I love watching crocodiles hunt their prey. But believe me it’s tough. Because a part of me questions, “How could you watch such gory things?” The other part assures me, “Well, it’s ok. You are only watching it on Nat Geo.”

2.I like playing chess online. I think playing chess helps me develop alternatives for life’s problems and lets my creative juices flowing. I love scrabble, crosswords, puzzles too, but first comes chess.

3.I go crazy over goggles. I have different kinds of them. Ray-ban, Fast Track, Police…and still collecting. The one I prefer is from Singapore which could be folded so small one wouldn’t notice even if you held it in your fist.

4.I hate traffic but LOVE long drives. (Probably the reason why I married someone from the neighbouring state)

5.I believe I have some strange powers such as interpreting dreams. I have deciphered most of them for my friends. Of course, free of charge! Sounds crazy? Well, it is!

6.I love traveling. One of my covert wishes is to be a globe-trotter. But I guess you have to fly. And flying is expensive… I mean, when it’s all over the world.

7.I love watching “Whose line is it anyway.” The three stand-up comedians, Ryan Stiles, Wayne Brandy, and Colin Mochrie have loads of talent. I feel my unbridled side perfectly fills the shoes of Wayne Brandy.

8.The moment I have the remote in my hands, the channels I love to steady my eyes on are, HBO, Star Movies and Telugu movies, in that order.

9.As a teenager, I was crazy about all occult sciences. Palmistry, Astrology, Face Reading, Chinese astrology… name it, I was into it. The traces of which surface every now and then puzzling friends and acquaintances.

10.I get a high when I hog the limelight! But it seldom happens.

Harmony

I stopped listening to music. Not that I wanted to, but the pressures of life sometimes hold you by the collar so tight, you tend to forego things that actually pep up your life. Now, it seems like years since I have actually put on my earphones and listened to some good soft music.

I for one could relate music to two things. One, music is like a medicine which helps soothe your aching nerves. Two, it is like the company of trusted friends, a great stress buster. If only I could hold on to this dear friend, music, and let him be by mental therapist as often as possible, then life would really ROCK!!!

But there are some bands that could work the other way and take your peace away and throw it out of the window. Like the bands Guns and Roses, Rolling Stone, Led Zeppelin, Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, Scorpions, Deep Purple…which are heavily into heavy metal. No offence meant, but my heart just can’t stomach heavy metal. I wouldn’t mind listening to these bands once in a while but not on a regular beat. With life already filled with lot of jarring effects, why would anyone like to listen to jarring sounds? It’s simpler and easier to listen to Bryan Adams sing, “Everything I do…” or Elton John croon to “Sacrifice” or watch Toni Braxton in her inimitable voice sing, “Unbreak my heart” or Lionel Richie whisper, “Hello.” Although the songs seem old they are as fresh as jasmine flowers in August. You can’t but help appreciate the effect.

My advice to all those who feel let down and the pressures of the world choke on them. Take a day off! Run away into the woods. Insulate yourself from this mad, mad world. Lie down on the green grass; enjoy the mild caress of the summer breeze. Then, fall in love with the music on your i-pod!

A trip to Vijayawada, a few packets of Kurkure, and a Kinley water bottle.

It sums it all. I mean my absence on the web.

I unexpectedly took a journey that was long and unimaginably boring. Actually, I had never been to Vijayawada. Consequently, when a client requested me to meet him there, I found the idea rather tempting. So, the next morning, I caught a bus that headed towards Vijayawada. Although the journey was long, it was this rollicking telugu movie which was played on the bus that cut the journey short. The film was a take off on the English movie, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels (with actors: Steve Martin and Michael Cain). I don’t quite recollect the title of the telugu movie but it would be injustice if I say the movie was hilarious. Had it not been for the armrests on the seat, I would have been down on the floor laughing. One thing I truly admire about telugu movies is, you absolutely have no parallels when it comes to witty humour. The slang, the punch lines, the versatility … I somehow feel the southern film makers are miles ahead when it comes to scripting side-splitting humour.

The movie which followed was also equally hilarious. It was as if the driver somehow knew that a guy who is fanatical about telugu movies was clandestinely undertaking a journey to Vijayawada. Or, it could be that the driver is just another individual who relishes humourous telugu movies. Either way, the journey wasn’t a bit drab or boring, I mean at least in the ‘first half’.

Since I had taken an early morning bus, I couldn’t gorge on my breakfast. So when the bus took a halt, the hunger pangs made me scamper to the nearest refreshment counter, where Juhi Chawla with her innocent smile on the Kurkure Packet beckoned me to own her. I bought two Juhi Chawlas along with a bottle of Kinley water bottle. (Contrary to the belief that water is tasteless, Kinley water tastes wonderful! Trust me). That was my ration for the day. After I landed at Vijayawada, The meeting with the client went off smoothly. He had a huge property and anyone could make out he was filthily rich by looking at his two Mercedes Benzes in the portico which dwarfed against a colossal structure – his office! Surrounding it was his 80-acre land. The client was young, effervescent and dynamic, radiating optimism from every angle. We struck a chord somewhere while our interests tallied. Finally, we decided to meet one last time before finalizing on the business trivia.

The journey back was boring. I got stuck in Vijayawada for what seemed like years. The place where I stayed lacked internet accessibility. Moreover, on the return journey, there were no telugu movies. That’s because there was no TV on the bus. But APSRTC promptly charged the same amount for the ticket as that of a DVD coach! Pathetic. Furthermore, the seat I sat in was extremely uncomfortable it felt like I was traveling in an auto. And imagine an auto ride that is around 450 kms. Unimaginable!

I reached Hyderabad at an unearthly time of about 2.30 am. Stepped out of the bus into the inky darkness and thought: Is life really worth all this? Maybe…

Never Too Late!

Gosh! I missed out on the Valentine Day’s post. So, I want to make up for it and post a few lines that are in perfect harmony with my understanding of love. No prizes for guessing from where it’s taken. But, believe me; the lines are awe-inspiring.

Love is patient. Love is kind. Love is not jealous. Love does not brag. Love is not arrogant. Love does not act unbecomingly. Love does not seek its own. Love is not provoked. Love does not take into account a wrong. Love does not rejoice in unrighteousness. Love rejoices in the truth. Love bears all things. Love believes all things. Love hopes all things. Love endures all things.

One Fine Afternoon

August 7th 2007. It was an afternoon. The sun took a break and hid itself in a cloud. The breeze was gentle and pleasant. The leaves on the plants around our house were rustling. It was like any other perfect afternoon. Nudged by these factors, my mind thought of sleep. The body quickly agreed. And I slowly slithered into the bed to catch my forty winks. As I was drifting off to sleep, I heard a knock on the door then heard my mom say, “Could you drop me off at the clinic? I need to get a new prescription for the medicines.” Frankly, I was in no mood to drive. Furthermore, my mind was already away in the dreamland and I wasn’t feeling like bringing it back to reality. I half-sleepily murmured, “Can’t you go to the doctor tomorrow?” She said, “No way.” And mind you, when my mom says, “No”, believe me, it remains a No.

I was afraid if I didn’t go, she would take an auto and go. Then, it would be like a tight slap on my face (The perfect Gandian style of revenge) So, I got up, changed into a different set of clothes and within no time we were on our way to the clinic on my bike. It was while we were driving over a small bridge that the guy driving the bike ahead of us – I don’t know what got into his head – suddenly swirled to the right. He hit my bike’s front tyre at an angle that made it wobble for sometime and then finally spin out of control. We were traveling at a fairly good speed of 45 kms. per hour and I realized at a speed like that the fall from the bike could be inevitably fatal. But I could do nothing to avert it. It was too late. We crashed. The accident instantly disentangled me from the bike and I took five full tumbles before coming to a halt. Thankfully nothing happened to me, not even a scratch!

Even while I was tumbling the only thing I was worried about was mom. “God, don’t let anything happen to her!” I got up and came rushing to her. She helped herself up but was momentarily dazed. Later, I guided her onto the pedestrian path. I could notice she was writhing in pain, I knew something terribly bad had happened. Only when I saw the long, deep gash below her right knee did I realize the full impact of it. A single glance had told me it would require nothing less than 15 to 20 stitches. I was shocked beyond words. It all seemed like a bad dream. I was hoping someone would wake me; tell me, it’s over, she’s alright. This is only a dream…But nothing of that sort happened! The seconds mindlessly dragged on, before reality dawned – All this is actually happening!

Noticing the accident, a few passers-by hailed an auto. I immediately put mom in the auto and asked the driver to take her to the nearest hospital. I went and kick-started the bike; thankfully it roared to life although it looked completely wrecked. I then, sped to the hospital. There, the doctor asked the nurse to bandage the injury and take an immediate x-ray. Fortunately, the x-ray revealed there weren’t any broken bones. So, the wound was treated as only a deep laceration which needed stitches. She received all in all 18 stitches.

When the doctor found out that mom was a diabetic; he said the healing process would take a long, long time. But fortunately she returned to good health in a short time. The injury had properly healed. We were all surprised at the recovery. Even the doctors were taken aback. They exclaimed, “It’s a miracle! We haven’t seen any old, diabetic patient heal so quickly”. Moreover, after what had happened, I never expected mom to travel with me on my bike. But she still does! The faith a mom reposes in a son is simply amazing!

It’s more than one and half year, since the accident took place. Today, it is 13th February 2009. It’s a quite afternoon. The sun is warming up the neighborhood. The breeze is cool and pleasant. The smell of freshly cut plants is wafting in the air. My mind is tricking me into sleeping. That’s when I heard my mom knock on the door and say, “Would you like to have some tea?” I quipped, “Sure, as long as you don’t ask me to drive you to some place!”

When Silence Speaks

The body, when it is silent, it is the mind that becomes restless. For me, the last few days were nothing but bodily silence. I thought of questions like how much time I have left on this earth. What have I achieved so far? Have I justified my existence to god? Or at least to myself? The questions I seek have no answer. Because somewhere down the line, I missed my way. I got lost in the forest of temptation. Probably, ate the fruit that was forbidden. Although, I affirm, I haven’t committed any sin that is earth-shattering or broken any one of the commandments, I know all it takes is one small error to ruin progress - whether it’s earthly or spiritual. It’s akin to a scientist’s small error which may not help the project take off! The error may not be colossal. But the project is halted.

God sometimes tests the scientist’s abilities. Don’t blame the machine!

The thought that must thoroughly cleanse our complacent minds is: are we giving our 100% (mind you, not a percent less) to whatever we are working on? If not, it’s time we decided to.

Discount Sales – The Death of Me!

I didn’t know there existed a shopaholic inside me. I only got a glimpse of him couple of times, but somehow I know he exists. Somehow I know he lurks deep within. Especially, when he stops a minute longer, staring unabashedly at designer clothes on the window display in the shopping malls, or when he throws a curve ball at friends by cutting them in between their sentences and enquiring, “Is it a Pierre Cardin?” And when friends incredulously question, “What?”. Without batting an eyelid he asserts, “I mean the brand you are wearing.” Sometimes, the shopaholic makes me jump out of my skin, but then again it’s my skin. I’d rather do away with him, than jump out.

What’s more, the other day, he made my heart pump harder by dragging me to the nearest Benetton sales showroom. After what seemed like a minute, I was compelled to take a sweeping glance at a huge range of T-Shirts at discounted prices. While my glance steadied on the range, the shopaholic screamed, “Man, look at the price! Do you think one could get a brand like this at a price like that?!” Of course, he is as smooth as silk with words. His words have the magical charm of a piped piper. You just follow him without ever asking a question. Thus, his honey-coated words had wrung my arm into purchasing him four Benetton T-shirts and a pair of jeans. Only later, did I realize the damage and blew my top.

This isn’t the first time he has done such a thing. Last year, during august, he kept looking up at the newspaper ads. Finally, when he noticed something of his interest, he hypnotized me into walking to the nearby Lee showroom and buying him two pairs of wrangler jeans and a couple of t-shirts. At the end, he left me gaping with a half-empty wallet. However, this time, I am keeping a close watch on him. But still, I have to vouch, he is indiscernibly notorious. Had his dwelling place been a rich, socialite woman, she would have welcomed his every move. But with me, he is more out-of-place -- or rather let me put it this way -- I am more out-of-place with him. I simply don’t’ know what to do -- that is apart from screaming.

Damn these Discount sales! Damn the shopaholic…and lastly damn the brands!

90 Minutes in Heaven

Finally, I laid my hands on the book I was scouting high and low for – “90 Minutes in Heaven” - The New York Times bestseller. It’s actually a Christian book as a result my problems of acquiring the book at the regular booksellers compounded heavily. Whenever I asked for this book, I was met with only frowns, scratching of heads and doubtful faces. None of them heard about this book or the author. The Christian bookstores weren’t helpful either. They heard about the book. But they didn’t stock it. Even my visit to the far-flung OM (Operation Moblisation) at Bowenpally, Hyderabad, which is considered to be one of the biggest Christian bookstores in India, perhaps in Asia, didn’t yield any results. I was left brooding whether I would ever read this book or will it just turn out to be another mirage in the desert of life?

But finally, finally, a couple of days ago, I was able to get a hold of the copy. It was a simple call to Walden. I told them the book title and who the American publishers were. One pleasant voice took my telephone number and informed me that the staff would call me up if they found the book on the stands. I turned doubtful. But within a few minutes, my phone buzzed to life. The call came from Walden and said they had found the book but it isn’t by an American publisher but by an Inidan publisher - Jaico. I didn’t care who the publishers were, it was the book I was badly hunting for. So, I told them to hang on to it till I reached the spot. Poof. Within a few minutes I appeared before the Walden counter to claim it. I took a bunch of notes out of my wallet, counted and handed over the money in exchange for the book.

On my way, my joy knew no bounds. I was like a young kid holding a DVD of ET dashing home to watch it. I call it ET, because the book in a way was talking about something that’s extra terrestrial. Something that is difficult for the earthly minds to believe in on. Yet, if it is true (which I believe it is), what shocking truths it could reveal about heaven? That’s the reason I acquired the book.

Now, for the story. It is about Don Piper, a Christian priest, who accidentally got hit by a huge eighteen-tyre truck while he was on his way home in the US. After the accident occurred, the police personnel checked Don’s pulse and declared him dead. But inspired by god, another priest, who was passing by the same route, walked closer to the accident spot, waded through the mass of wreckage, placed his hand on Don Piper’s shoulder and started praying to God to save him. He did this, even after the police had told him that Don was dead. As soon as he ended his prayer, he started singing a song, “What a friend we have in Jesus…” Amazingly, he heard another voice sing along with his. That was Don’s. That’s when he rushed to the police and informed that Don was alive.

Until then, except for Don no one knows that Don Piper had actually died and came back to life. During the 90 minutes, that is from the time the accident occurred to the time the pastor started singing the song, Don was actually dead on earth but was taking a walk in heaven near the pearly gates amidst angelic singing. Unfortunately, he was sent back after 90 minutes of stay in heaven. I say “unfortunate” because Don says it. He says heaven is such a lovely place you don’t ever feel like coming back to earth again.

Anyway, I wouldn’t want to spoil the fun by revealing all the contents of the story. For those, who haven’t heard or read this book, I think it’s time you did, because it’s a book that implicitly gives you the details of life after death.

A Few Lines of Thought

Here’s a poem I really liked from poetry.com. Though I did scribble some poems which incidentally have also been published at poetry.com, I cringe with fear when someone asks me to name them. The thought of being measured, ridiculed, needled…zips my mouth shut. Anyway, I believe in the concept the more mysterious your thoughts are, the more intriguing you become. Isn’t life all about being elusive to the mind and visible to the eye? So, the other person gets to see you, but not the real you.

Anyway, philosophy apart, here’s the poem I liked. It’s called, “No Time for the Blues” by Jeffrey H. Williams. Since it’s a copyrighted poem, I am pasting the link below. Enjoy!

http://www.poetry.com/contest/pastwinners.asp?qsGPWinID=99

The Classic “Imperial Blue” Advertisement!

Blame it on my interest in advertising or genes; I get immediately drawn to advertisements that kind of jerk me out of real life. I have recently seen a commercial of the brand, Imperial Blue, which had me in splits. But first allow me to enlighten you that Imperial Blue is the name of an alcohol brand. Unless one understands this little fact, it would be hard to grasp the gag. Since, the Indian government doesn’t allow advertisements of alcohol or cigarettes on TV or on the radio, this advertisement is shown as an advertisement for Imperial Blue soda. The humour, however, subtly suggests it’s an ad for alcohol.

The commercial starts with two friends conversing over soda (read drinks) in a house. One guy starts describing a flower, hoping that his other friend would help identify the name of it. After he describes it a little with a slur in his speech, his friend replies, “Lotus.” This guy nods his head sideways and says, “No”. Then, he adds that this flower is very beautiful, has sharp thorns on the stem and is quite well-known. His friend answers, “Rose”. The guy who asked the questioned looks relieved, turns around, and calls out to his wife… “Rose darling….”!

The New Year Greetings

I wish my readers a happy and financially rewarding 2009.

Sorry, the wishes are coming in slightly late, ‘cause fate had decided that I should lay in bed with a viral fever while the new year dawned. Anyway, I know one can’t fight fate, so I am currently fighting away the viral fever. But whatever my state of affairs, I wish you all a healthy and happy new year.