I often read blog posts by women who talk about how they just can't seem to find the right man .... He should be like this, and like that, and what have you.

Dee made the same mistake. The fact that she has the looks of a fashion model (and presumably the brains to go with it) somehow led her to believe she'd have little trouble finding Mr. Right. But her experiences have taught her otherwise ... Mr. Right has turned out to be even more elusive than good ol' Osama!

She once asked me: "why aren't there any guys like you out there?"
And I said to her: If I were just some stranger you happened to meet at a party, would you fall in love with me?

She just smiled ... she got my meaning.

True love isn't about finding the perfect person; it's about finding perfection in an imperfect person.

Your prefect man, your prince charming ... he exists only in your head. And even if he does happen to be out there somewhere just waiting to be found (it is highly unlikely that he is waiting to find you), locating him will be like looking for a needle in a haystack. And you know what is the easiest way to find a needle in a haystack? -- Setting the hay on fire and then sifting through the ashes.

If you succeed, good for you. But what if you discover that there never was any needle there in the first place? .... I'd say you could do a lot more with the hay than with the ashes.

You ask me how I became a madman. It happened thus: One day, long before many gods were born, I woke from a deep sleep and found all my masks were stolen, -- the seven masks I have fashioned and worn in seven lives, -- I ran maskless through the crowded streets shouting, "Thieves, thieves, the cursed thieves."

Men and women laughed at me and some ran to their houses in fear of me.

And when I reached the market place, a youth standing on a house-top cried, "He is a madman." I looked up to behold him; the sun kissed my own naked face for the first time. For the first time the sun kissed my own naked face and my soul was inflamed with love for the sun, and I wanted my masks no more. And as if in a trance I cried, "Blessed, blessed are the thieves who stole my masks."

Thus I became a madman.

And I have found both freedom of loneliness and the safety from being understood, for those who understand us enslave something in us.

But let me not be too proud of my safety. Even a thief in a jail is safe from another thief.

From: The Madman by Kahlil Gibran

I've been going to gym regularly for the past couple of weeks. I feel strong again. I find my mind works better when I'm in good physical shape; I don't worry about things as much ... and that's because there is this sense of power, which somehow makes me believe that I can handle anything the world throws at me. It feels good to be in control .... even if the feeling is only an illusion.

The guy who was living in the ground-floor flat of our building died late Sunday night. I came to know only today. He lived alone .... and died alone - massive heart attack. He used to leave his door open sometimes .... I could see the place was filthy. He was just 32.

He looked like someone who had given up on life. Unemployed, and with nothing else to do, he would spend his time tending to the plants in the yard behind. I was filled with a terrible feeling of regret when I got the news this morning. For the past month or so, I had been meaning to go down and say hello to him.

I guess he went quietly; without a fight.

***

When we were kids, most of our time was spent getting into fights and destroying whatever took our fancy. If I tell you of some of the things we did, you'd be horrified (and if you're an animal lover, you might want to kill me). Truth is, every damn thing we did had that destructive element to it; nobody ever cared to listen to our problems and show us another way. Fight your own battles was always the answer we got.

But there comes a time when you get tired of fighting .... when you will find yourself turning the other cheek. But you know what: there's nothing like knowing you could return a knock-out punch if the need arose.

Peace, love, and another round with the devil.

Just got back from the library. As always I found myself sitting on those big stone steps and looking at the road in front, where the flow of people and traffic never ceases. Vivian, my buddy, was happy to see me. "I miss your company these days," he says. Yeah, I'll start coming here more often, I said.

I look at the people ... old, young, beautiful, ugly, fat, thin; I pick up words from their chatter ... some appear wise, others not so. I see a big group of college girls - so full of life ... all wearing those hipsters and short tops which leave that little wobble of flesh exposed around the waist ... what a drab world it would be without them.

And then I realised something: when I look at all these people passing by, I tend to get this feeling that I am one up on them ...know what I mean? I feel I am wiser and actually know something they don't; and in a way it gives me an odd sense of satisfaction. Now why is that ... can anybody tell me? Because I haven't a clue ... and I sure as hell don't have any real reason to feel that way. But yet I do.

... funny how the mind works, no?

As for Dee, I hope she can pick up the pieces and start over. It won't be easy but she doesn't really have a choice.

.... well, she can choose not to and go mad in the process. Like me.

I am bludy mad, you know ... mad mad mad!

Peace, love, and regular doses of sanity.

Just saw some horrific pictures on CNN of scenes of destruction in Beirut. If the target was just one man (the former PM), then why did whoever was responsible feel the need to blow up an entire block and kill all those innocent people in the process? Like so many other things in our world today, it just doesn't make sense.

In Iraq, the Shia's are reported to have got a majority in the recently concluded elections - I imagine Bush & Co. must be most perturbed. So what will he do now - occupy the entire Arab world? I bet he'd love to.

It wouldn't surprise one bit if the Middle East ends up being the cause of Americas eventual downfall (I won't use the word destruction just yet). Giants have been brought down in the past, and there's no saying it won't happen again.

As for the innocents who have to bear the brunt, they can only hope tomorrow will be better than today - that is, if there is indeed a tomorrow for them. It isn't the survival of the fittest any more - its the survival of the luckiest.

You know it's funny - here we fill our heads with worry thinking about the myriad problems we have in our lives, and out there you have so many millions of people who would be happy just to be alive 24 hours from now ..... makes you want to count your blessings, doesn't it?

Peace, love, and a wider field of vision.

The wedding was a complete fiasco. It was a scene straight out of that Guns N' Roses 'November Rain' music video.

They made the mistake of holding the reception on an open lawn. And even though light showers had been forecast nobody really expected it to rain. Boy were they wrong! It started with a drizzle while we were going to have dinner, and progressed into a downpour by the time we were finished. Apart from a couple of small trees, there was not a single place where people could take shelter. Pandemonium - that's what it was!

So everybody from the bride and groom to yours truly was soaked to the bludy skin. I could tell that most of the invitees just wanted to hand over their gifts and run; but they obviously didn't want to offend their hosts, so they stayed and got wet. Mel seemed to be enjoying all the confusion. "...This is fun SwB. We should have brought some booze and ciggies!!" Many of the women ended up looking like Shilpa Shirodhkar in a wet scene from one those B-grade Hindi movies.

I have never witnessed a total washout before ... felt really bad for the newly weds - their big day ruined. Only consolation is that the food was excellent. Lesson learnt: always have your wedding reception indoors ... even in February!

But what's going on with the weather these days? The scientists have been warning us not to mess with Mother Nature, but we haven't been listening. I'd say this is just the beginning.

O.K. Just heard on NDTV News that Martina Hingis has decided to come out of retirement :)

BFN.

You know how when you're in school one little incident can change things forever? Well, I heard the word "Oklahoma" in a TV programme that I was watching today and my mind went into flashback mode.

But this is not about me. This is about Anoop. He was a big duffer, but also one of the toughest Mallu's in our class, so nobody messed with him. During an English lesson in Class VIII, our teacher Mrs. Shankunni (also a Mallu) asked our boy to read part of a short story set in the background of the early twentieth century oil exploration days in a place called Tulsa, Oklahoma. Now though Anoop didn't have as bad an accent as some of the other Mallu's, it so happened that when he said Oklahoma, it came out as "Awwgla-hawma". Well, you can just imagine the laugh riot that broke out after that ... even Mrs. Shankunni couldn't help herself; poor Anoop was most embarrassed. But soon the whole episode was forgotten - that is until the next day when we were on the football ground. One of the guys was looking for someone to pass the ball to, when somebody shouted "...pass it to Awwgla!!!"

His life was never the same again. Because from that day till the time we finished school 4 years later, he was known only as Awwgla; and I'm pretty sure that those people who didn't know the story presumed Awwgla was in fact the name his parents had given him (many Mallu's have funny names). And no amount of effort (or musclepower) on his part could do anything to change that.

And I was thinking: If we had a class reunion today, I bet every single person present would still call him Awwgla!

... I couldn't help laughing out loud :)

Those were the days my friend
We thought they'd never end

I found a website yesterday that contains the complete works of J. Krishnamurthy - every book he's written, every talk he ever gave. Thousands of words of wisdom at the click of a mouse. I read through a few pages; some things I could understand, but others were beyond my comprehension.

You know, I see wise men as people who will tell you that the water you're about to dive into is cold; but you will only know for certain just how cold it is when you're in it. You will find the chill unbearable for some time, but then your body will slowly begin to adjust to the temperature. This adjustment is something only you can do.

But is it the same with the mind?

Yes, I certainly think so. People can tell us what is right and wrong, but in the end the decisions are ours. So rather than having them tell us what/how to think, I'd say what we really need is someone to help us live with our decisions. But like the body that will find ways to keep itself warm in the cold, this is something we have to do for ourselves. Because only we know how.

Peace, love, and the wisdom of ordinary men.

NBZ was reading the Times of India this morning, when he turned to me and says: hey SwB, you wanna go catch Osama? ... they've raised the bounty to 50 Million!

"Ok listen to this: There are lots of bekaar buggers (indirectly referring to me of course) in our country right? So wouldn't it be a super idea if the Indian government announced a scheme whereby all the millions of rotters are given the chance to do something constructive (err... make that destructive) and make some money while they're at it? The army will train and arm them to the teeth, and then air-drop them near the Afgan-Pak border. Of all the millons, somebody should be able to shoot Osama ... even if by mistake! Actually their orders should just be: aim for anybody with a beard and turban! The person who succeeds will get the 50 million (of which 40% would be taxed at source); the Indian government would end up being the recipient of all kinds of American financial aid and other assistance running into billions of dollars ... Congress might even be pressurized into passing a bill whereby all US outsourcing contracts should compulsorily go to Indian companies henceforth; and Bush would successfully be able to force a constitutional amendment whereby he becomes the first President ever to contest a third term. And in that way everybody's happy"

"Wow NBZ, you're a genius! You better dash off a letter with your plan to all the bigwigs at North, South, East and West Blocks pronto."

"But wait SwB, you haven't heard the best part: Of the millions that the army sends to Afghanistan, only the chap who gets Osama should be brought back to India. The other unlucky rotters can remain where they are" :)

Just read Tan's post on platonic marriages. I am sure that if divorce were as easy and socially acceptable in our country as it is in the West, we'd have millions of couples separating from each other.

I can think of nothing worse than having to spend your life with someone you cannot tolerate; and that's what so many couples do, isn't it? ... they tolerate each other.

But what about those people who can't do it? I, for one, would never be able to just put up with someone; I'd want out.

Time changes everything. I guess a marriage is no exception. So why can't people just accept that and go along with it. By wanting things to remain as they were initially, and by taking steps to somehow accomplish that end, we are only interfering with the natural process through which everything must pass. It's like a person of sixty trying to look twenty again - just not possible.

Tan talks about the lack of physical intimacy that often finds its way into a marriage. But I wonder: is it wrong to expect those things that started it all, to always stay alive? Does the fire always need to be kept burning the same way? Maybe there is something else that should take over; something else that not too many people bother to wait and discover.

Peace, love, and confused answers to confused problems.