Its 3 am...

It was 3am.

One of those typical nights in Bombay, hot and humid with a few gusts of breeze bringing relief into the night.

Standing by the black granite window sill she could see the dark blue city blending into the black sky. The empty road was lit by a flickering bulb, not a soul in sight-except for the watchman who had fallen asleep hours ago. Not a bird stirred, nor a dog bark, just 2 voices talking over the telephone.

'I wish I could be with you right now'
'Me too, but you know its impossible for me to get out at this hour. Where were you?'
'I was out with my friend-just chilling together, he and I hadn't met up in long'
'Hmmm'
'Kya hua?'
'Now I just wish I could see you'
'Im below your house'
'What??'
'Do not lie'
'Im below your house'
'Right, crap'
'You'll see and hear me in exactly 3 seconds'

HONK! A white car sped past across the road.

Not a single leaf rustled,the drowsy moon didnt peek out from the clouds and the sleeping dogs lay. But her whole world had arisen to his love.

And she wonders

She had planned it all out, all at the age of 13-it had to be Commerce, arts was for the not-so-clever and science was for the geeky. It had to be south mumbai-that was where the good crowd was, and it was the place to be.

She did just that.

During college, it had to be BMS-cause that was the course which gave the practical aspect, and post that it had to be a job-MNC only.

She did just that.

M.B.A was a must-for the people one meets, for the learning, for the paycheck, for the pride. The job that followed had to be front office-MNC only.

She did just that.

She had determined-she would work hard, she would be liked, she would slog, and she would rise.

And she met him. And it all shattered.

She saw someone who lived for a desire, for a dream. There was no routine, no assured return, no concrete plans. The job was not a chore and the existence was not a question mark. It was effortless, natural drive and through inner vision. Work was love, and life was fulfilled.

He lived his passion.

And she wondered-could she ever just quit to follow a dream? what courage it would take to pursue a desire? Give it all up-all the years she had planned for-just to follow an instinct?

Would she ever be able to live her passion?

Eid Mubarak.

We'd run up the wooden stairs hand in hand until the last floor of the 3 storeyed building, and slowly peek inside the ajarred door. He would be sitting there as always- on the red and green mosaic carpet spread across the floor,a grim face but with a prayer always on his lips.

"Salaam Alaikum Dadajaan"

"As-salaam alaikum" would be the prompt grunt back

"Eid mubarak" while kissing his hand in respect.

We looked for dadijaan's warm smiling face, her head poked into the room almost when she heared our greetings. "Eid Mubarak!" with kisses on both her cheeks, she'd lead the way to the kitchen where she had been preparing the food since 3 days even during her rozas.

Some people like sheer korma hot, some like it cold-I cant decide which one I prefer, so I simply would have two bowls. First the hot one and then I'd make my way to the fridge and take a huge helping of cold sheer korma. Like every grandmother who likes to see children relish their cooking, I was dadijaan's pet; her eyes would light up watching me clean sweep the bowl.

Dadajaan would enter the room, a few times I almost thought (though not sure) I saw a gleam in his eyes watching us all huddled on the floor with a large bowl of sheer korma in the centre. He would give us Eidiya (Eid money) and say 'the greatest joy one can derive from money-is by giving it away'. The golawala seemed the perfect person to give it away to at that age.

Looking back, it is the one of the wisest thing someone has said to me. On this Eid day, I will do just as you told me as a child and I know if youre watching me from above-your eyes will light up.

Eid Mubarak.

I *heart* Dxb

I just dont know how to start this post, this thought evokes too many emotions and I just havent been able to structure it since days,so this is how the post is going to be-ad hoc.

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I fear my blog is beginning to look like a travelogue, but then this trip was more than travel. I got teary eyed the minute I saw the sandy dunes from the airplane, "not now!" was all the comment my companion had to offer.

We landed, holy month of Ramadan, no food, no water, scorching sun, waiting for my friend to meet us-it was perfect. Im not being sarcastic, it was all wrong, but it had never been so right. Euphoric wouldnt describe it, it was an odd sense of freedom...to be where I want to be, no 'things-to-do' running in my head. I think i felt for the first time in my life-Im living just for me.

I simply turned my night into day-was up till 4 am, out on the streets, at all my fav places-irish village, 360, dubai marina,starbucks,haagen dazs,odyessy.The 2 new things I did was try out Buddha Bar and went to the Dubai Museum-I enjoyed both tremendously.

At the museum there was an Indian and a local salesman at the souvenir shop, I was asking them where I could get a certain kind of souvenir from, to which he replied when you go for the desert safari you can get it there; to which the local simply replied 'shes not a tourist, it seems as if she lives here'. I dont know how he made out, but I was beaming.

Ofcourse Dubai means malls,and I covered most of them, but more important for me was all my friends which I got to meet-all the catching up, the long chats, the gossip!It was good to see everyone settled all talking about their jobs, HNI clients and their new cars(what a change from ppl who tried to save every 10 bucks mere 3 months back)!

The afternoon I was to return to Bbay, I woke up at 5 am to the sound of the morning prayers, I have been hearing them ever since I was a child and find the greatest peace in melodious prayer.That morning from the balcony I saw one of the most beautiful sunrises over the city of Dubai.

I flew Etihad btw, for the gyaan it is the national airline of UAE not Emirates like most people believe. Its also a damn good airline-plush seats, large private screen which had an option of over 73 flicks, tv serials and video games! The only hitch is that it lands at Abu Dhabi ofcourse.

The day we were to return, we had to catch a bus which takes us from Dxb to Dhabi,the traffic on Sheikh Zayed was so bad,the taxi crawled on a road we usually drive at 140.

Managed to miss the bus, left my cellphone in the cab, got it back after much effort, the cabbie we called to take us to abu dhabi didnt show up, anyhow we made the flight.

Eitherways, it was perfect-and Im not being sarcastic.

Phuket-sea n sand joys and lady boys

My dearest company(I love office) took all of us for an offsite to Phuket. I loved it the minute I peaked outside the aircraft window and below the clouds I could see the bluest of seas.

We were put up at Hilton, 75 acres of natural beauty bang on the beachfront. A large room to yourself and a peacock that flitted around everyones balcony.

The first night was at 'Walking Street'. The entire stretch is flocked by little open air pubs, few restaurants and lady boys. With their petite bodies, long hair, make up and short skirts-one wouldnt be able to guess that these pick up women are well..not women. As my tour guide coyly said " You'll never know until its too late".

Then, we went for my very first 'show'. It was typical with all the women dancing around few poles, and then the show began. A woman came and stuck a whistle up her hole and then using her pelvic muscles she blew the whistle (thats when i burst out laughing), the next act was performed similarly with two cigarettes (I was in splits), the third was with an endless string of coloured ribbons (by then I was holding my sides). She disappeared behind a door for a minute only to come out with a jar of water, then she wriggled out 2 live fish into the jar!! I stopped laughing just about there; we left-I think we had enough of magic shows for the night.

It was followed by a disco called Banana's-the dj played some amazing trance n hiphop tracks, and played a punjabi number for all the Indians in the crowd (read:only us) I guess we really must have burnt up the dance floor. On intervals disc had bubble machines put on, so the whole floor was covered with bubbles. I simply loved the concept! (Wish Bbay would get some creative ideas like that)

The next day brought about the water sports and beach part pf phuket, which I enjoyed infinately more than the magic show of the previous night. Para sailing was a treat, its just unbelievable to be soaring high in the open air, banana boat was well-wet, and it was followed by more rounds of para sailing.
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Wish I could have stayed tad longer, but the Thai curry at Bangkok beckoned...
Till another trip.

Mandom Rumblings

I had begun to write a serious post et al but it all got lost amongst the electricity going, my mom demanding to check her mails and I falling off to sleep. In the bargain there has been lots on my mind, and so I ....mumble.

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There are so many things that we come across in our lives daily and yet we dont know. I have always been curious how much taxiwalas earn, so I started questioning my cabbie enroute to town. A Mumbai cab costs Rs 230 per day as rental, Rs 150 worth of gas is filled everyday-so a cabbie has to make at least 400 to break even, over and above that is all profits for him. The person who owns the cab usually lets it out on 2 shifts, thus earns 460 a day and has to pay for maintenance.

Need to find out about autos too.

Gyaan tip: the taxi/auto walas wearing a white shirt indicates that they own the vehicle, whereas the ones wearing olive green/khaki have rented the vehicle from someone.

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I wonder if people confuse passion and working hard. Like I met a man who just works and works, the minute he got onto a job-he was there whole and soul. I thought it was brilliant dedication, until I had a chat with N who brought a different perspective completely. Sometimes people become just too mechanical, and they continue to be robots because that is all that they are good at, and are afraid to try anything new because of the unsurety.

Obsessive stock brokers-who knows the one thing that may find utmost joy is in art!
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It was a Saturday morning, and I was at work, after having slept at 3am I was prepared for a drowsy morning. Two of my colleagues N and V gathered around my desk and we started chatting.

We spoke on the media industry vis a vis the finance industry's style of working and life; Discovery channel shows on test pilots for fighter planes; how a certain sect of Mexicans sell their house and all their worldly goods-set out and just travel the world; how its necessary to just cut yourself from the world and do something new; how a photographer working for say animal planet has to wait 5 days for a lion to make a move for him to get one shot, how the lion has to live through his whole life for the photographer to complete his series-work life passion and purpose.

Whether we would ever have as much passion as that photographer, gain as much knowledge as the man who travels the world, do something completely different from the herd.

I confess, I have never been as awake as I was that morning

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More later...until the next thoughts that enwrap my brain.

Through my eyes

Try.....as home as you can make it,
It will never be the same as being in the wild.

Try...as natural as you can make it,
But it will never be the same as being free.

Mumbai, tujhe salaam ya badnaam ?

7-11 happened, and it shook the trains, middle class, police, and even the Prime Minister. As an observer of this mayhem I came across 2 distinct opinions in the sentiments of the people. There was one set who saluted Mumbaikars, and indeed they should-the trains were back on track, forget that there were people in the train, in less than 24 hours! There was this other set whose shrieks voiced, ‘How can this city carry on, when so many have lost their lives, and so many more might in the coming future?’

A common acquaintance was on the ill-fated train which was bombed at Khar, she related the incident to me, she was in the ladies compartment and but 2 bogeys ahead the fatal bomb burst, for a few seconds no one could comprehend what had occurred, but when the black smoke filled their lungs and blocked their vision, instinct said ‘jump’.
As they passed the detonated bogey she said she saw no dead bodies, until she realised the butchered like pieces strewn around were parts of human beings, when she stepped back and looked towards it again she realised the whole compartment had blood spurts covering it.

Mumbai’s spirit indeed, this spirit allows them to move on with life faster than people can anticipate. The last words of my common acquaintance on the phone was ‘I hope they manage to clear out the tracks, and get the trains running again for I intend to catch the Borivili local to work tomorrow else it gets too inconvenient’. Frankly if the commuters who experienced the blast were willing to get back onto the same compartments, I don’t see how rest of Mumbai can feel scared. Next evening I watched the live telecast of the trains on the news channels-I confess they were not as crowded as they usually are, but I could also assure you that you wouldn’t get place to sit nor hang by the pole, maybe of those rare evenings where you could get off without punching someone’s face.

My friend Ani emailed me voicing his opinions on this so called ‘Spirit of Mumbai’. I tried to ration it out-why do people flock to Mumbai in the first place? Infrastructure is better in Hyderabad, Chennai is cleaner, Bangalore is less polluted-so its got to be the money. When this city shut down for 2 days due to the rains last year Mumbai lost over $2 million of business, the next day people scrambled and waded to work to make up for the losses. The one thing that drives this city to work is the money, most want to earn and all have to survive. This is what makes Mumbai commercial capital of India, this is the never say die spirit of Mumbai.

But regarding the blast I wonder it is really spirit or is it indifference in a charade?
Let me start with my own example, what did I a citizen of Mumbai living just mere 10 mins from the site of the blast do? I tried to contact everyone I knew and watched the horror on the news. There is no point in sympathy or empathy for that matter-if one cannot get out on the street and help those that needed aid. I probably should have been at the station to help the injured or do small things like gather rickshaws to take the wounded to the hospitals. But what I did was I watched it on TV, I saw most of the people that were there helping were the lower middle class--why,do the upper middle not like having their hands soaked in blood? Inspite of the fact that the first class general compartment is usually filled with the upper middle class male society.

Is it not true that our government gets away each time because the city is up and running? The credit does not go to the officials but the people of the city. Bad rains, part riots, bomb blasts- yet we travel. If the city shut down, would the officials then finally react? From sources, 42kgs of RDX has been brought into the city a mere 10 to 12 kgs would have been utilized in the 8 blasts. Are we to live everyday in fear?
Yes I agree if the city shut down then the terrorists will consider they have won-but if the city continues there will be more-is it worth lives of innocent citizens. It is very easy for the unaffected to say Mumbai won, just because your brother, father, son, relative, friends were not on those ill-fated trains.

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I salute to lower middle class, for helping out those in need and pain. I only know that what goes around comes around.
And Helen Keller’s words ring in my head “In three words I can sum up everything I have learnt about life, it moves on"

Homeward Bound

My friend dj while chatting with me questioned me 'Whats the best part about Singapore' and I was 'Well, hmm its very disciplined'. His pat reply was 'Dont be boring, think what else is did you like?'
And so this blog has emerged, its the small things that make life convenient in Singapore, well here it goes:

1. Well...discipline, the people are, the traffic is-it makes life a lot simpler. You wont really see fights (no I dont enjoy watching them), no rowdy behaviour, no one dares to comment at a woman.

2. MRT: Thats their trains, its clean, efficient, fast.I dont have to jump on, push anyone to get in, and while alighting the passengers wait by the side so that one can get off comfortably.
For those who know Singapore there are 3 main lines or routes, but one has to keep switching lines to reach certain destinations-the government realised this and have started making a 4th line called 'Circle line' which connects all the unconnected places. I like the fact that the government sees a certain problem and works towards solving it and making the citizens lives genuinely easier.

3. Clarke Quay! Its where I stayed in Singapore during the latter half of my stay, its an inland water body surrounded by restaurants and pubs. My favorite being 'Crazy Elephant'-a place where they have a live rock/blues band, and keeps airing hilarious jokes on their screens like "Viagra is coming up with a tablet for females-Whats it called? :: Niagara." Well the blue seas, blues (the music) and beer-its quite a charming place.

4. 7-11: Its the 24 hour convenient store, which keeps everything and a few basic medicines. I dont know why its called 7-11 though, cause its opened 24 hrs-365 days? Theres one at every corner, makes life much easier-wish they would spring up a few in Bbay as well.

5. Plastic bags : As it rains nearly every second day in Singapore, most of the malls and the business centres-keep a stack of water proof plastic bags (its free), so one can dump their purses, bags, files, laptops etc. It serves a dual purpose-those that wish to get out into the rain can do so, and it also prevents the floors from getting dirty by dripping water from bags, files etc.

6. The Rubbish Chute : I know this may sound odd, but every house has a rubbish chute where one throws their garbage, the garbage vans simply put a tube into the main outlet and suck all the garbage into an enclosed van. This ensures that the garbage is never out in the open keeping germs, bacteria and insects at bay.

7. Ministry of Sound: When I visited Sentosa Island, an entertainment park kinds I saw the musical fountains, which was largely a cartoon and light effects projected on a water screen. I found the cartoon too kiddish (i know it wasnt meant for me in the first place) but one of my first thoughts were I wish a disc would have lights on a water projection-the effect would be mindblowing. When I entered Ministry of Sound, the largest room had exactly that. It wasnt half as appealing as I had imagined, but still barring the execution-the idea is brilliant. Trance and psychedelic lights dancing all around you in the water.

8. The interesting people, from different cultures you get to meet (I especially interacted with many Germans) but this is esp to people I went out with, had converstaions with: Andy-Bloomberg journalist, Hans-my german bus partner who turrned out to be VP of Allianz, Petra-my german-chinese colleague who made work a nicer place.

9. Millenia towers: Thats my office-she looks real majestic in the morning-standing tall against the sky and all the clouds-under her wing, under her command.

Millenia, May I never see you again

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Notes:

Homeward Bound is a movie about a dog who is lost and how he finally manages to find his way home-with a lot of lessons down the un-travelled path. Well I feel a lot like Sassy

And yet, I am now humming the tune of Country Roads-by Denver:
All my memories gathered round her, Miners lady, stranger to blue water
Dark and dusty, painted on the sky
Misty taste of moonshine
Teardrops in my eye
I hear her voice
In the mornin hour she calls me
The radio reminds me of my home far away
And drivin down the road I get a feelin
That I should have been home yesterday
Country Roads, Take me home,
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads.

If Investment banks were Musicians

It isnt often I put up a link on my blog. But for all those finance yuppies-this is a must read!Even more hilarious for those who have worked in these organizations

http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=10000039&sid=anPFr7olXfIA&refer=columnist_gilbert

(heres the link to the original site)

If Investment banks were Musicians-Mark Gilbert, Bloomberg

Investment banks have personalities that are reflected in how they go about their business and how their peers view them. Bands express their character traits through the music they make and the company they keep. What happens when you match banks with musicians?

1) Goldman Sachs = The Rolling Stones
Goldman Sachs Group Inc. occupies an odd position in the investment-banking pantheon. The world's No. 1 securities firm by market value is unloved by its peers and universally regarded as arrogant. Its prodigious appetite for hard work and its unrivaled profit-generating abilities arouse jealousy and admiration in equal measure.
Goldman could almost be U2. While its followers are devoted, it's still not quite cool to admit to loving the Irish band. The rock 'n' roll establishment struggles to cherish a band whose lead singer, Bono, rubs shoulders with presidents and popes as he campaigns against global poverty.U2, though, would never embrace Goldman's aim of being ``long-term greedy.'' So, step forward the Rolling Stones; no one ever accused Mick Jagger and Keith Richards of paying anything less than full attention to the bottom line.

2) Citigroup = Ozzy Osbourne
In ``Liar's Poker,'' Michael Lewis wrote that the key to being a successful trader at Salomon Brothers in the 1980s was a willingness to bite the ass off a bear every morning. Ozzy Osbourne would have fitted right in; around the same time he is reputed to have bitten the head off a dead bat thrown on stage after assuming it was a rubber toy.

Salomon is now part of Citigroup Inc.'s empire. Ozzy is now more famous for parading his family on a reality television show broadcast by MTV. Both Citigroup and Ozzy are growing old disgracefully; Citigroup's many and varied brushes with the authorities around the world make the bank worthy of an alliance with the former Black Sabbath singer.

3) Deutsche Bank = Fleetwood Mac
A lazy comparison would equate Deutsche Bank AG, Germany's only global bank, with Kraftwerk, Germany's only global band. Reliant on technology for success, secretive, Teutonic and somewhat emotionless, they have a lot in common.
A different list of attributes, though, suggests an alternative. Immensely profitable? Check. Years of infighting and not communicating with one another? Check. Badly in need of a style makeover? Check. It's Fleetwood Mac.

4) JPMorgan = Radiohead
JPMorgan Chase & Co. executives used to boast about the bank's roomful of 250 Ph.D.s, designing exotic derivatives strategies and proprietary mathematical models to tickle the wackier wedges of the world's financial markets for profit. Too clever by half, and needing another big hit to remain relevant? It could almost be REM. Radiohead edges it.

5) Barclays Capital = Oasis
The capital-markets division of Barclays Plc could be the Red Hot Chili Peppers; chaotic in the 1990s, gained some focus in the early years of this decade, now looking a bit bloated and self-indulgent. Or Barclays Capital could be Keane, since both rose without a trace and are seemingly missing a key component, with Barclays surviving without an equity business and Keane bashing out pop music without the aid of guitars.
Oasis is a better fit. Snarling insolence failed to break the U.S. market and, while past its peak, the band is still capable of flashes of brilliance. Moreover, it probably has twice as many employees as needed. I just can't work out which Gallagher brother, Noel or Liam, is Barclays Plc President Bob Diamond.

6) Morgan Stanley = Coldplay
Deadly earnest. Blue-blooded. Well-heeled. Regularly at the top of the charts, though even fans have the nagging sense they might just be going through the motions. Morgan Stanley and Coldplay are made for each other.

7) Merrill Lynch = Madonna
Both Merrill Lynch & Co. and Madonna peaked in the 1980s and have been irrelevant since the 1990s, notwithstanding umpteen attempts at reinvention. A willingness to jump on any passing bandwagon keeps David Bowie fresh; it leaves both Merrill and Madonna looking a bit like Whitney (Houston) dressed as Britney (Spears).

8) HSBC = any boyband
Guns N' Roses has been poised to release ``Chinese Democracy'' for a decade. While some tracks have been performed live or been leaked in rough form, the album itself still isn't available. HSBC Holdings Plc has been poised to use its platform in Asian investment banking as the springboard to become a fully fledged global investment bank for at least as long.
HSBC, though, could be any manufactured boyband. The true performers earn peanuts, while the management reaps the financial rewards. And, if there is a genius Robbie Williams lurking in the line-up, there's too much dead wood for the talent to shine through.

9) UBS = Phil Collins
The bank and the former Genesis drummer/singer are both rich, both based in Switzerland, and no one with any sense gives a hoot about either. Medallion men with year-round tans and chunky gold watches bank with UBS AG, and rate ``In the Air Tonight'' as their favorite track of all time.

10) Commerzbank = David Hasselhoff
Both Commerzbank AG and David Hasselhoff, the singing star of Knight Rider and Baywatch, are huge in Germany. Scientists have failed to explain why.

Waiting for the Rain

This is dedicated to you both,
I woke up this morning because the sun was glaring into my face, I had to squint to see the time on the clock-it was still good 10 minutes before my usual alarm time but I decided to get out of bed anyways. I was arranging my purse and threw my umbrella on my bed-no point in carrying around weight especially when I can see(or rather cant see) the sun shining its brightest. I forgot my wise old words 'acute sunshine means heavy rains', and that is exactly what happened by early evening.

As I was visiting another branch I made my way through the malls and subways, I was on the roadside and I could see the lightning and watch the dark clouds water the streets of Singapore. But when I looked at the roads and the people-they were so nonchalant, like there was no spirit.

I shut my eyes, in that second I was transported:I was back in Bombay, and it had begun to pour, I remember people running towards shelter-in shops, under bus stops, even under a tree, and then there was us-we ran out of our homes to embrace the rain.
The first natural step was to call each other and meet near the sea-side, after which we would take a long walk drenching ourselves entirely. Then we would run to a café coffee day or barista, we frequented the bandstand one the most I believe. There we would sit and watch the white surf rise high and crash against the promenade, as we sipped hot chocolate mocha.

Over lots of gossip, chats and even more laughter-time would slip away. Even the clouds were tired, and the rain would subside leaving behind a cool breeze. It was time to return to our respective homes, to dry ourselves-until another day when the rain gods beckoned us again.

I opened my eyes and I had a smile across my lips.
Because some moments in life can be taken and frozen for eternity.
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The rains should soon reach Bbay, miss you guys and the rains.

I’m Racist….So?

The word racists brings out sneers and aghast looks from most of the human race around me, but most of us don’t realise we are, in our own little way-a racist.

Living in India, I never delved too much on the subject, Gandhi faced it, so did Martin Luther King; did I honestly care? Not really. The only two times you think of it seriously, one if you are facing it and two if you are a racist yourself.

Coming to a different place, ensures that men envision their own land and fellow country men quite differently. I always thought Indians were intelligent, now I believe we’re a superior race as far as intellect is concerned. If there is a derivative problem to be solved and an Indian and Chinese come up with two different answers, I’d take the Indians-blindly. Don’t get me wrong the Chinese have a brilliant methodical brain, but I’m biased to the South Indian calculation skill set.

In a packed train, I’m seated and my station is about to arrive-who will be the lucky one to get my seat? you guessed right-the Indian. (barring the fact if there are elderly, or pregnant women-I’m human first). It doesn’t matter that the Indian has come back from an hour long of shopping and the other women are making their way home after a hard day of work.
The person I relate to most at work is a Pakistani, because he speaks the same language, he understands and appreciates shayari’s, he can share my kheer with me. When I get mithai’s I share it with only a few people-who said that the other communities will not enjoy Indian sweets, its just an assumption, but I don’t bother to find out, do I ?
Aren’t we racist within India as well? Gujuratis favour their own caste more ditto for Maharashtrians.

Sub-consciously the fact that we relate to a certain sect of people does play on our mind and affect our behaviour towards people. I belong to that section of people(which I believe is all humans)who connect with the like mindedness. Racist, I am indeed.

Welcome to Singapura Lah

Your 30 and thriving, but cant own a car, and you will need to summon the cab 20 minutes prior at least (yeah even I though of yehyeh and naser bhai)
You will find that you are a millionaire but cant own a car:
That is because you need a no objection/ eligibility certificate to buy a car. The government gives out a few every period-so you bid, the highest bidder gets the certificate aka gateway to the car. Its like an open bribery system!
Imagine if it were there in India or Dubai for that matter- it would cause bloodshed!

In my food court you will get:
Chicken feet
beef organs
lamb brain
u-mein (just be happy you don’t know what that is)
Baa-U-Mein ( be overjoyed you don’t know what that is)
Don’t worry all ye vegetarians, they serve plain sprouts!!
(For all those that made a gross face while reading it, I have to watch it being eaten!)

I was walking on the MRT aka train station, and they began announcements- mandarin, malay, some chinky language, another chinky language, and the next one perked my head up- it was Tamil! Not that I understood a word but who cares I had never been so happy to hear tamil ever before as I did that day.

Everyday you will see immacuately dressed mannequins, they all have straight hair, fabulously dressed, n well chinky eyes(obviously). I cant make one out from the other, but yeah they sure do dress amazingly!

For those that are wondering whats ‘lah’ its like lah u know they say lah after every 3 or 4 words lah. But you cant say lah short and sweet lah you need to make it loud n screechy laaahhhhhh.

That’s it. Im coming home

Dont judge a book by its cover (definately not in an airplane)

I entered the aircraft and passed down the aisle towards my seat, I passed her--angel looking. Her curly hair bounced off her shoulders and she smiled, she smiled to every passerby. Every person got taken in by the mix of her sweetness and charm. What a bundle of joy-all of 5 years.

All was mesmorizing until the movie 'Bluff Master' on the aircraft began. All the interested put on their headphones, the uninterested continued in the same fashion. Suddenly a high pitch shrill voice began to screech 'the whole thing is wrong bhaiya sabse bada rupaiya'. She sang the whole verbatim including the ooohs and ahhs. Everything disappeared; angel was gone for good.

A young boy of 10, sat two rows behind me began to explain to his mother why the airplane always flew over the sea and then changed direction. I was quite impressed, I didnot know that at 10, hell i didnt even know that when I was 23. Anyway he got a little carried away with telling his mom everything:

'the planes engines have started', ' now the plane is moving in front', 'the plane is turning right' , 'the plane has stopped', 'another plan is landing', 'the planes engines have started again', 'the plane is now building speed'

Uhhhhh, did i say intelligent??

As I took my seat I was disappointed to see an old maharashtrain couple(she wore a green sari, gold and red bangles, big bindi and only seemed to converse in marathi) sitting next to me-that removed any sort of conversation for the flight duration for sure. I was surpised when the purser came the man asked for a sweet martini and his wife said 'ill have the same'. When dinner arrived the man asked for a coke and she said can i have another sweet martini. She was barely 3/4th through her dinner when she asked for another sweet martini to take with dessert!

Post supper she was fast asleep (who wouldn't be after 3 martinis), but at least I was right about the no conversation.

Its amazing how we love

Its amazing how we love life - unconditionally

even though it screws us over and over again.

India Shining?

As I browsed through the pink papers every morning-I realised a pattern:
-J.P Morgan, IDF to buy 20% stake in L&T for 500cr
-Goldman may invest $100m in Pantaloon
-RIL strikes oil 27bn for 15 years
-India upgraded by Standard & Poors (about time-but anyway)

Every morning the papers are exploding with news, one investment being an x multiple of the other. Money just seems to be pouring in. India Shining? Maybe..but really where is all the money? Yes middle class in richer, but the standard of living doesnt seem to have improved.

The percentage of cars on the roads seems to have jumped higher than % increase of the BSE. Im sorry-did I say 'roads'? Infrastructure one of the key elements in the success of economy growth is lacking in our country. Mumbai however rich and however commercial is frankly a mess. I have read extensively about the changes and developments in Shanghai from an untalked of town to now a buzz city, aided by the government's USD40bn expenditure towards its infrastructure.

Dont get me wrong, I am not cynical about India, infact I am very pro it-but I just wonder what is taking them so long to develop it.As a citizen I seem to be able to do nothing about it as well.

And the news continues Beoing to set up a $100mn hub in Nagpur, Citigroup sells its stake to Infosys for $115mn....

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Sheer brilliance-is how I'd like to describe it. It takes much for me to write about a film, lets say this one just hit a chord.When I like a film, at the end of it-I watch all my favorite parts again, this one-I simply soaked in its brilliance.

When your best is the hellest, and yet after knowing it all, you are ready to go through it again. When the unconscious chooses your destiny.

I cant say Id recommend everyone watch it, for I believe only those that have given up something dear, will appreciate the the power of the film on their minds, because only they can see...what I saw....

eternal sunshine

The swish of the brush

I had a lovely morning--it was spent not in reminiscing good memories of the past nor dreams of the future..I was soaking up the present.

It started with me going back to where I worked, familiar warm faces with genuine smiles and goodness, I could feel the warmth of the positive vibes all around. My manager had cleared his exams and got the stamp of an MBA which in turn gave us an excuse to celebrate with khamand, kachoris and jalebis. I also caught up with a few people I had been meaning to meet-it feels good to be in the company of the people you want to be in.

A trip to south mumbai is never complete if I dont visit Jehangir Art Gallery, my tryst with paintings started a few years ago and has only blossomed since. I got lost in the numerous hues and the swishes of the paint brush, until a truck load of tourists entered,of which im sure not even half knew the meaning of art appreciation. But love is a very overpowering force, soon I was oblivious to the crowd, the noise, and even the existance of another soul in the room, maybe that is the meaning of detached, maybe that is the feeling of fanaah.

I climbed the staircase to a cozy room which I call familiar-I know the terrace art gallery in and out, what paintings are done in which styles, placed where on the wall. As I entered my familiar haven I felt the intensity all around me, and I smiled to myself enwrapped in this feeling.

Caretaker: You've come after long
Me: Yes, true-I dont live in India anymore

I walked up to my favourite painting there,a large canvas:of a boat in the stormy sea,the painting is in all different shades of blue-it reminds of life, how we struggle to stay afloat, to move ahead and to stand tall.

Caretaker: Take it. You've always liked it. You know I would give you a good discount.
I met his eyes and smiled.Next time I visit the gallery,I should be able to take it-for now it was time to go.

Final Farewell

Sometimes when you leave a place...you dont leave just the place
You leave a part of you behind
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Love you Dubai

Intelligentsia

Who is more intelligent?
In the dark, the one that lights the candle but the vision is limited by the breadth of the candlelight? or the one who adjusts his eyes to the dark but it limited by the dull silhouettes?