Life sometimes is like that fabulous outfit or pair of shoes you happen to see in a shop display only to go in and find they don't have it in your size.

***

The cousins and I were chilling at Sula the other day and they happened to play this song. Such a lovely feeling it was, sipping our wine listening to Dylan with the vineyards all around and the breeze kissing our faces. The mind tends to freeze such moments and carry them along for a while. Until something comes in and replaces them.

For a special someone who (much to her horror) turns 25 tomorrow. Forever Young.

It's bad enough they do it on birthdays, but calling at the stroke of midnight to wish me a Merry Christmas is taking things a bit too far I think!

Because it's not always convenient to take such calls. Especially when you're in church at Midnight Mass praying; and thinking about how different things are now compared to that starry night in Bethlehem when Jesus was born: They had just one babe to adore, we have so many! Sent straight from heaven to enthrall all mankind. Some in the same amount of clothing as they were wrapped in the day they were born.

Indeed the miracle of Christmas these days happens more in the beauty parlours. And the real miracle, the one that each of us should feel in our hearts, well -

My favourite Christmas song. Chris De Burgh.



Peace, love, and a light to follow.

Someone asked me yesterday -- What's the grossest thing that's ever happened to you? And when I proceeded to narrate the incident they went, -- Oh God, stop! Please stop! Hell, you asked me. So those of you who feel it might be better to stop reading, please do so.

It was around 6 a.m. on a cold September morning in 2007 when I stepped off an Austrian Airlines plane at Vienna International Airport. Flughafen Wien as they call it in German. After an 8 hour flight and the worst airline food I have ever eaten, and considering the fact that I generally refrain from using airplane toilets so that my countrymen can knock themselves out, the urge to use the loo was quite extreme if you know what I mean. Also when you're travelling alone you cannot leave your hand-baggage outside or request somebody to watch it for you because by virtue of being brown-skinned you are by default a possible terrorist. So you gotta take your bags in there with you. Which is what I did.

After I was done downloading I reached for the toilet-paper since toilets in those countries don't have water. There was just a tiny bit of paper sticking out the holder so I put my hand in deeper to get it. And that's when I felt something. At first I didn't know what it was. But when I retracted my hand I saw it. Someone else in a better mood and after a more pleasant flight might have said, -- Oh look, shit! But since I was not that person I screamed, -- OH MY FUCKING.... !!!

Now imagine my situation: I had (someone else's) shit on my right hand, an unclean backside, my pants down to my knees, my bag that weighed a ton on the floor next to my feet, one free (clean) hand, and no water! And I had a connecting flight to catch in 30 minutes. How's a person supposed to get out of that one?

I have never thanked my mother so much in all my life; in all my life I tell you! Because if it wasn't for her I'd have been totally bludy screwed! Tissues. Ever since we were kids my mother always made it a habit for us to carry tissues. More than we need. Just in case, she'd say. And that habit has stuck. And that day it got me out of a very shitty situation.

So what I did is take the tissues out my jean pocket with my left hand and cleaned my backside as best I could. Then with the same hand I managed to yank my jeans up and do the zip and belt etc. After that with my shitty hand stretched as far away from me as possible coz it was stinking like hell, I managed to make my way out of the toilet dragging my bag along. Lucky for me there was no one else using the wash basins or they might have called security on seeing a guy with a hand full of shit making his way out the toilet. And then I washed. And scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. Four, five, six times I don't remember.

My very first time in Europe and that's the welcome I got. On the connecting flight to Zuerich with the snow on the Alps gleaming outside my window, all I could think of was how in the hell could someone have managed to get so much shit onto the insides of a toilet-paper holder. It defied all explanation. And the culprit had to be Indian, that much I was damn sure. Because the flight from Mumbai had mostly Indians on it. On hunch is you know how they have those automatic hand dryers where you place your hands under the blower and it starts, -- I think whichever stupid bastard used that toilet before me on seeing that there was no water to wash figured if he placed his arse under the toilet-paper holder it would automatically get clean. And when nothing happened he stuck it up even higher, like you do with the hand dryer. I cannot think of anything else.

***

Gross I know. But I look at the lessons I took out of that:

- Always travel light;
- Carry lots of tissues and a bottle of water with you everywhere;
- Never stick your hand up the toilet-paper holder. Actually never stick your hand up anywhere; and,
- When you're travelling with lots of Indians, go to the toilet before anybody else does.

***

The troops arrive today and tomorrow. NBZ tells me that the couple whose house we had a party at in Dubai will also be coming over because they thought we, or rather I, rocked! Apparently they are still talking about me back in Dubai. Oh well - that was just me doing what I do best I guess. Or second best ;)

Neil Young. Let it Shine!

Don't worry about it, I said to him. 9 out of 10 couples don't do it on their wedding night. You get so tired after the days activities the only thing you look forward to is a massage followed by a hot bubble bath and a good nights sleep.

It gets worse, he says to me. We didn't even do it on our honeymoon.

You're kidding!

No man, seriously.

Dude, then you have a problem. Unless you're both the kind who believe intimacy is sitting up all night and talking.

Don't joke please. You have to help me out here ... I don't know who else to tell this to.

So what's the problem. Why isn't it happening?

That's exactly it -- It's just not happening. I mean we get started but then it's like the flame goes out or something. It just gets cold man.

You need to consult a sexpert I think. It's too early for a marriage counsellor.

Should I show her my porn collection? Maybe that will turn her on.

I don't know man. Most women think porn is sick.

Then what do I do dammit -- How do I have sex with my wife??

You know what -- Don't do anything. Just wait till she gets so horny she throws herself on you!

Or on somebody else before me! Shit, do you think there's somebody else! Oh God, what if ...

***

... she's a lesbian? I didn't say it but it could be that the only reason she married our boy was so she could stay in the closet.

So what advice would you offer a friend who is faced with such a predicament. Frankly I wish they wouldn't confide in me with such things. But this guy I can understand: he's only been married ten days (arranged marriage), of which seven were spent honeymooning in South-East Asia. And I have a reputation for keeping my mouth shut! :)

***

The time of year I like most. So much happening the next couple of weeks. I wish you and yours a joyful Christmas season.

There's this girl I met in Dubai said GNR was her 'religion'. GNR of all things! Oh well - whatever rocks your boat honey. Wasn't too pleased when I said, -- ya but I wish they hadn't butchered Knockin' on Heavens Door like that!

The very first song I played here on the Blues. Tom Petty & Bob Dylan from the 1986 album Dueling Banjos - Knockin' of Heavens Door. For Gia.

There is nothing more delightful than being in the company of two super-talented, extremely well brought up kids. For kids like these I'd gladly give up all my freedoms!

Which is how I spent my day yesterday - just watching them do their thing. They were amazing. Pics on Facebook.

Does anyone know where I can get Rainbow Magic books here in India? That's what they want for Christmas. Felt real bad when they said their daddy couldn't buy it for them back home in Australia because they were too expensive*. And this was after I told them that an Ipod and digital camera were out of the question. Searched at Landmark last evening but nothing.

* Or were they trying to make me ullu, you never know!

John Cougar Mellencamp with a song I just feel like listening to right now - Your life is now!

After what Mr. Woods has done, I'd say the phrase "Be a Tiger" will have taken on a whole new meaning, wouldn't you agree?

But why is the world playing judge, jury and executioner? People are shocked. How could he do that? And why? He has everything goddarnit -- Paisa, ekdum jhakkas biwi, bada ghar, his own bloomin' island in Sweden (and God knows where else), everything a bloke could ask for. So why Tiger, why?

The simple fact of the matter is that men will always be men. We love our freedom, and marriage somehow takes that away. So any opportunity we get to re-live those 'free' days we make the most of it. Problem is some of us don't know where to stop. Like Tiger.

My own cousin was evidence of this fact when I was in Dubai recently. The wife being down in India left our man with nothing to do but have a ball. In fact I couldn't have gone at a better time - what with the booze flowing like a river, the music playing loud, the football matches being watched till 2 a.m., and the Karachi Darbar down the road taking care of the catering. The best part was we could hop into the car and take off to anywhere we felt like on very short notice. You can't do that with wimmen - they need prior intimation; they need preparation time. I laughed when he said as we were leaving for Jebel Ali, -- if she were here she'd be making bludy sandwiches! Yeah, most times we can do without the sandwiches.

So does he miss his old lady? To do his laundry maybe. But for everything else? Sure doesn't seem like it. We even went to that pick-up joint I was telling you about. And though they said it was only to show me the "sights", we know better than that, don't we? --Yeah ok, we showed the boy around, but when was the last time we saw ass like that! ;)

Anyway, that's that. What I am really interested in though is to see how the great Tiger Woods plays himself out of this sandtrap. There'll be a lesson in that for all of us. Because the biggest lessons in life come not from knowing how someone went down, but how he got back up again.

Murray Head. With a song that was banned from radio play in the Middle East when I was growing up. Somewhat ironic because if you look at places like Dubai these days, a number like this wouldn't seem so inappropriate. One night in Bangkok.

They were all slightly cold at the start. As women normally are when there's a new face around. But when the party was over I got a kiss from each one of them. Music has this ability to bring down peoples defences in a way that they warm up to you. Maybe that's why from the very first time I went up on stage I knew that was where I was always wanted to be. I loved that feeling of being with them but not among them.

Sadly for me that has been the way my life has turned out too -- so much adulation, so little love. And it's all my fault.

Ben Harper & Alison Krauss. For L. You don't know how much I wanted to.