all I want
for Christmas...

is to be
a kid again

Operation Duryodhan (don't miss the name!), the latest sting operation conducted by Aaj Tak actually had me bludy laughing. Our politicians have become such a bunch of jokers - imagine taking money for raising questions in Parliament!

And on the Volcker report that landed Natwar Singh in so much trouble, we now learn that former PM Vajpayee and his son-in-law were also involved in those very same Iraqi oil deals! Poor L.K. Advani must be waiting with eager anticipation for that day to come when he will retire from active politics. After all the hungama the BJP created in Parliament over Natwar Singh, for it to be now revealed that their senior-most leader at the time was also involved in the same scam, must be highly embarrassing.

But what to do? We are led by a bunch of bungling idiots ... who waste more time changing the names of our cities than improving the living conditions that prevail in them. Bengaalooruuu it seems! .... Someone please call the Limeys back!

***

I started reading Robin Sharma's Discover Your Destiny with The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari and found it impossible to get past the first chapter because it was so immensely boring - a watery concoction of Richard Bach and what is probably Buddhist/Zen teachings. The title itself had me somewhat confused, and so I looked up the word destiny.

1. The inevitable or necessary fate to which a particular person or thing is destined;
2. A predetermined course of events considered as something beyond human power or control.

Going strictly by the dictionary meaning of the word, it would appear that discovering one's destiny would be a waste of time because there is nothing you can do to change it. Or is he telling us that we can indeed change our destiny? In which case the title of the book is somewhat misleading .... Or perhaps he doesn't believe in destiny at all, I'm not quite sure.

Like Richard said:

“We generate our own environment. We get exactly what we deserve. How can we resent the life we've created for ourselves? Who's to blame, who's to credit, but us? Who can change it, any time we wish, but us?”

I have a feeling that this is exactly what Sharmaji is trying to tell us. Only he felt like saying it in 200 pages!

And who's to say that Richard himself didn't borrow from ancient Buddhist/Zen teachings? Quite likely if you ask me.

***

Reading Manu's post on Tendulkar's record-breaking 35 test centuries got me thinking about what it is that really makes a person great? Is it what they've accumulated for themselves in terms of money, fame and records, or is it how they've utilized that money and fame for the betterment of those less fortunate than themselves.

Take Bill Gates for instance - world's richest man and all that. They say 9 out of 10 of the world's computers are running on his software; and that he's been a bad boy for not giving anybody else more than a very tiny piece of that very big pie. But when I see how much the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation is doing, I feel its probably good that Billy's got all the cash and not anybody else. I was reading in the current edition of Outlook magazine that the B&MG Foundation has pumped in so much money into health services in rural India, you'd think our Ministry of Health is being outsourced!

Frankly, I have more respect for Steve Waugh than Sachin or any of our Indian cricketers. When I first heard that he had come down to India to oversee the Udayan project in Calcutta, I simply couldn't believe it. Why would someone want to come here all the way from Sydney to help the children of sex-workers and lepers? He's worked hard for his money - shouldn't he be starting a chain of fancy restaurants, or buying himself a brand new Ferrari and zipping through the streets of Sydney? ... And I'm sure driving one of those mean machines is a lot more fun over there than here in Mumbai.

To me that is what makes a person great. When he uses the fruits of his success for the betterment of somebody other than himself. The rest of them so-called celebrities and superstars, are in my view, just ordinary folk like you and me - doing a job we're paid to do. And if they are just like us, why do we waste our time adulating them?

Peace, love and real heroes.

"The season for spending is here"
Said Gasper in Balthazar's ear:"
Gold, frankincense, myrrh
for the young connoisseur -

The shepherds are bringing the beer."

Nice one, no? :) Got that from the BBC's Lunchtime Limerick page that Aparna, our very own limerick queen had linked to. And I don't call her the limerick queen for nothing - hers is fourth best! (assuming they are in order of best to worst).

***

Ran into good ol' Foxtrot Ally this morning. Poor fellow was looking quite worried again.

What's the matter bro, I asked him

Dude, can you believe, Sandra's (his girlfriend) parents are taking her to a match-fixer tomorrow!

To a what?

Match-fixer dude - those bleddy old aunties who fix marriages ... people also have no kaam-dhandha, I tell you!

Match-maker, you mean.

Whatever yaar! Here I'm bleddy getting tension and you're teaching me English! .... I don't understand why her pop - bleddy old fool - won't accept me. And the worst thing is she is also not putting up any resistance! See these dames how they are - always looking for bleddy greener pastures! I'm telling you dude: some gorilla bugger from Dubai will come with a thick gold chain and nakli Rado and she'll say he's Tom Cruise and go with him. Kya bolneka yaar ... sab paisa paisa paisa!

Hey, you're very good at drawing right? So why don't you take classes and become a professional artist or something. I read in the Times today that one of Francis Newton Souza's paintings got sold for 6.5 Crores!

But Newton Souza is dead now, so what's the use of all that money? The apple should fall from the bleddy tree when you're alive, dude! No-no, I'll have to ask them to make me the team-leader in place of Moushami, otherwise I'm quitting! .... Hey Blues, you want me to fix you up with Moushami, kya? She's totally fida over us Goan buggers ... you know na - thoda guitar-buitar bajaya, how their knees become weak :)

No, don't want bro. Bengali girls are usually too much of a handful.

Haan yaar, woh toh hai ... this Moushami also has big ones!

I said:
all we are
is blips on a radar screen
waiting to touch down

some will make it home safe
others will crash and burn

She said:
what we are
is stars
in the evening sky!

For Dee

I know
that sometimes we must love
those whom we do not love;

and give up what we want
for what we need.

You can live a lie
... but can you fight the truth?

You are the potter
I am the clay

... how many of me will you make
before you master your art?

they say there are plenty
more fish in the sea

... but will they be as big
as the one that got away?

"I'll teach you how to escape death.

... there is a raven in the eastern sea which is called Yitai ("dull-head"). This dull-head cannot fly very high and seems very stupid. It hops only a short distance and nestles close with others of its kind. In going forward it dare not lead, and in going back it dare not lag behind. At the time of feeding, it takes what is left over by the other birds. Therefore, the ranks of this bird are never depleted and nobody can do them any harm. A tree with a straight trunk is the first to be cut down. A well with sweet water is the first to be drawn dry."

-- Taikung Jen, in a conversation with Confucius

from: Fate is the Hunter by Ernest K. Gann

The last thing I'd expect to be doing in sunny Goa is a friggin' blog post, but here I am doing just that. Actually I was just strolling down the main street here at Candolim when I happened to see an I-Way Internet Cafe. And it's airconditioned too! Wow, Goa is getting better. And it's not just an Internet cafe, it's also a Baskin Robbins and US Pizza joint combined. Which is not a bad idea ... I just might grab a bite after I'm done on this machine.

The weather is lovely ... glorious I should say. Lots of firangs (Limeys mostly) , and surprisingly lots of desi's too. I could tell some of them were Bongs - you can't mistake those round faces and specs :)

And why is it that 7 of 10 women I see are bludy fat! No, seriously - saggy lard buckets, the lot of them! But I haven't been down to the beach yet ... hopefully it should be a better scene there.

Y'know, I just love this place. It is so relaxing. I wouldn't mind buying a Bullet and becoming a motorcycle pilot (as they are called here) for the rest of my life. And it's sad to see how many outsiders have made Goa their home. If it were left to me, I'd organise demolition squads and kick these Kashmiri handicraft blighters back to goddamned Srinagar!

Adios then. More from Goa later.

Peace, love and sand in your shoes.

I wonder what goes through the mind of a person who faces the prospect of a very long prison sentence. Like Abu Salem. He'll have plenty of time to think about what he's done - the mistakes; the errors in judgment; the foolishness. And surely he knew what the consequences of his actions would be, ultimately - so why'd he do it?

Was he mad ... or just misguided?

And how many of the decisions we make in our lives are the result of being misguided? Should we be put away too ... or are we excused because our mistakes didn't hurt anybody but ourselves?

***

They say that when a person is confined to a tiny cell, he tends to move around a lot more than he would have, had he been confined in a larger enclosure.

The same is also true of the mind, I guess. When there are fewer options, you start to get more innovative.

***

I got thinking about Victor today. I will never forget Victor. He is probably the only person I have been mean to in my entire life. And I remember it like it happened yesterday. We were both in Class 1 at the Holy Name High School, Wodehouse Road (Bombay). It was short recess and there was a long line at the canteen, and I wanted me a packet of those multi-colored badishap sweets. Not wanting to waste my time waiting in the queue, I spotted Victor hanging around. So I made him a deal. If he went to the canteen and got me those sweets, I'd share half of it with him. He was a poor boy, that Victor, and so the prospect of getting half a packet of those for free was too good to resist. So he goes to the canteen, stands in line, and after what seemed like ages comes back with the goods. And what do I do - I take the sweets from him and tell him to get lost. And he was smaller than me, so he couldn't start a fight.

It's been so many years since that day, but I still remember that look on his face. He trusted me ... and I cheated him.

The victims may forget, but never the perpetrators.

Peace, love, and a chance to say you're sorry.