Fridays I remember all so well. Wake up early and put our stuff into the car. It was a long drive to the company club at Awali and that old Corolla had no stereo but we enjoyed it anyway. The pool always looked so inviting and after an hours swim we'd be hungry as hell; and we never wanted to go straight home. Usually he'd take us to the Dairy Queen, but sometimes he'd say - No we went there last week, lets go home today ... there's so much food in the fridge. And then at the last second he'd turn off onto the road that went to the Dairy Queen and we'd have a hard time concealing our joy. How I loved them chilly dogs and the peanut butter parfait.

Don't think I ever thanked him for those Fridays. I should. I'm sure he thinks we've forgotten; wonder what he'll say if I tell him that after all these years I still replay those trips to Awali in my head every now and then.

This one for Sonz. It was so good talking to you last weekend. Miss you too.

When I think of it we are so fortunate to come from such a lovely land. If only that land could provide us with a livelihood I'd never want to live anywhere else. Same is I'm sure with all the kids working the call centres in Bombay and Pune. There were so many of them in the buses last night. Pains you to think what that land could have been had we only taken a little interest and not sold out to the politicians. But whose fault is it? In a place like Goa that's a tough question to answer.

***

I didn't say a lot to her. Because I know she's been through this many times before. But there was something about the girl I liked - she seemed to have a kind heart. Behind that slender frame was someone who's strong; who'd be willing to go the distance and make any adjustment necessary to do that. What I thought was really cool was how she was dressed in only her jeans and tee with no visible signs of any make-up ... not even the eyeliner most women cannot live without. If I'd known I wouldn't have spent half an hour ironing that damn trouser.

***

Only real development you see in Goa is the roads. Even the remotest of villages now have good roads, making driving down them quite a pleasure. These were all taken on the drive to my mothers village of Corjuem.

Version history??

No, this ain't CalifornIA!



Corjuem Bridge



There was some kind of Bollywood action sequence/ ad shoot happening on the bridge. Q says he saw Zayed Khan getting into the trailer parked below.



And it was a hot HOT day in Goa. But Thunder Thighs here seemed to be having little trouble coping with the heat.



The barge was positioned below the bridge. My guess is one of the guys in the jeep you see suspended above was supposed to drop down into the barge and finish off those lallus in the black suits with the toy pistols (who from the looks of it appeared mighty bored).



Before the bridge was built (some five years back) the ferry was the only way to get across.

***

I see many people used the long weekend to get away from the shit-traps we call our cities. Which is something I'm gonna be doing more often now. On motorcycle if I make up my mind to buy that Bullet.

Garfunkel & Simon. I love this song. Was listening to it on Q's big fat Ipod on the journey home. While Omkara was showing on the video. Oh, you absolutely must watch Omkara with English subtitles. Especially that Bipasha Basu number Beedi Chalaile. I laughed so freakin loud when I read the translation that went -- 'Light up your fags with the heat from my bosom!'

To be very honest I just don't get this thing about people and their pets. Why do these so-called 'animal lovers' look at us non animal lovers like we're the worst damn people on earth, why? They somehow want us to believe they're so damn kind and humane keeping the critters in their homes, caring for them and shit, but in most cases their motives are completely selfish. Only reason that there pooch is in your house is because you want him there, not the other way around.

***

Damn Chinks are going crazy in Tibet. Give those gentle people their land back and sod off is what I say. The world should boycott the forthcoming Olympics if you ask me. That'll teach the devils. And of what strategic or economic significance is Tibet to China anyway? They should know by now that we Indians would never dream of launching an attack against the mighty People's Army; we're having enough trouble keeping a bunch of Paki bandits at bay across the LOC.

Free Tibet brings back memories of Free Kuwait which was the call during the Gulf War. Those days you could see even the fishermen at the Mapusa market in Goa wearing them T-shirts. I guess some of our Goan Gulfies returning from Kuwait probably thought they'd would make a nice present for the relatives. Because you know how it is with people returning from phoren - they dare not come home empty-handed ... not even if they're scampering across the desert from an Iraqi contingent ready to shove a bayonet up their ass. In fact the joke going around at the time was that the T-shirts should have said Flee Kuwait instead.

So Kuwait is free and Tibet is not. And the reason for that is simple. If Kuwait has half the worlds oil reserves, China makes half the worlds underwear!

***

Big B is back. This time it seems he's playing a ghost. Something like Casper. How much that will frighten audiences away remains to be seen.

This just caught my attention - Britney to perform £2 million erotic dance for Dubai Sheikhs. Damn those sheikhs - do they live it up or what! But why Britney? Shilpa Shetty would have done it for half.

And just look at what Nina is wearing here. What the hell is that - a mobile birdcage?? Rohit Bal dude, you need to take some design classes quick. Our accounts teacher Aswale (lovingly referred to as The Black Alsatian, whom Nina was terrified of) could have come up with something better!

Here's Anni-Frid Lyngstad, Benny Andersson, Björn Ulvaeus and Agnetha Fältskog, better known as ABBA ... Super Trouper. Good week.

Another exhausting week. But it's not like I hate my work. And my mums happy with all the Swiss chocolate the firangs keep bringing over. I think we've eaten more Lindt and Suchard than bludy Cadbury. And the Sprüngli Grand Cru truffles that Mary (girl who took me skiing in Switzerland) brought me last month were so awesome I could have eaten them all alone. Those guys really know how to make chocolate!

So Mary is on her three-week tour of India which takes her up North first, then Calcutta and on to Madurai, Chennai, (what's in Chennai!) the backwaters of Kerala, finally ending up in Goa where we have her booked in this nice (and really cheap) little family run resort on Candolim beach called the Sunset Beach. 2 grand a night for a double AC room just a few meters from the beach with a pool and breakfast thrown in - and - a clear view of the sunset, is pretty reasonable I think. My brother had been to check it out and he was quite impressed, mostly with how clean and well kept the place was, in spite of being just 2 star.

I need a holiday too you know, I really do. 5 days off next weekend, and I don't think I'll be going to church on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. A trip out of town is what I'm thinking. The Kid has invited me to go to Calcutta with him. Now there's somewhere I've always wanted to visit. Lets see.

This one taken by my brother at the entrance to St. Thomas Church cemetery in Aldona, Goa where both my grandparents are buried. Inscription at the top of the archway in Konkani reads Aiz maka, falea tuka ... literally meaning 'Me today, you tomorrow'.



Free as a bird ... Lynard Skynard.

My head still feels quite heavy. Lack of sleep mostly. A tough couple of days where a lot was demanded and a lot was delivered. The political tamaasha we witnessed didn't make things any easier. Dropping everything and rushing home in the middle of a workday hoping you won't have a misaimed stone landing on your bludy head is not the most pleasant of experiences.

But this is India. Like I wrote back when I was in Switzerland - we Indians need this. The lack of shit like this would suck the excitement out of living here. In Switzerland everything moves like clockwork. Out here we like the clocks to stop sometime.

This one for Rupa ... my latest blog addiction. Good weekend.

Taare Zameen Par. It didn't make me cry, but it did make me a little teary-eyed recollecting the years I was growing up. Where I never felt I fit in. I was a good student but I never wanted to study. I wanted something else ... something I could never quite put my finger on. I scoffed at the nerds, many of whom have attained great heights in their careers. I see them on Orkut and I do not want to say hello. I want nothing at all to do with them. Because theirs is not the life I want or wish I had ... happy with their wives and their babies in some small town in some faraway cold country. Perhaps in the eyes of the world they have achieved it all, but in my eyes they are just- another brick in the wall.

I always had a lot to say to but never wanted to say it to anyone. That changed when I happened to be checking out the cricket score on Rediff one afternoon in May of 2003 and spotted a link that said 'Publish your thoughts'. Suddenly I was presented with a canvas that I could do anything with, a canvas I was missing all along. And now nearly 5 years later that canvas still hasn't run out.

But people who have met me would surely have been disappointed. Because somehow they expect to find someone who talks a lot and is funny all the time, but I am just the opposite. I am still that loner kid who wanted nothing more than to be left alone with his Legos .. where he would turn out one beautiful creation after another that his father would show off proudly to anyone who came over. And they would always ask him -- So, you will be an engineer when you grow up, or an architect, or a designer. And he never had an answer.

It was just one scene from the movie that left me teary actually - the one right at the end where the kid wins the drawing competition. Because it brought back memories of that day in Class 5 when I walked up to collect the first prize in the secondary-school singing contest, to the thunderous applause of everyone present. I guess one reason the applause was so loud was because I was the only boy in the competition. And nobody ever thought I'd win ... least of all me.

I never won anything after that.

Love is...

not looking to the next table

Back to work Monday. One of the things I miss in these big offices is the peons and the hot cups of masala/adrak/elaichi chai whenever you ask for it. I hate these insipid tea bags. Now that I think about it working in a small office was so much more fun. The interactions with the people around was that much more … you got to know about their kids and their wives and their trips to the 'native place' and all kinds of shit which helped to kill the time.

The peons were a big source of entertainment by themselves. They were wonderful guys too, who still keep in touch after all these years. It was their English actually that provided most of the laughs. I remember Sridhar (who claimed to have picked up his English from reading newspapers) talking on the phone one day with one of the firang bosses from Copenhagen who wanted to speak to our Director, Mr. D.

Mr. D is not in office today Sir. His health is unwell.

After which firang boss must have asked when Mr. D will be back. And Sridhar goes: He is expecting in two days Sir!

But the funniest of all conversations I can remember is one I had with Zende who hailed from some village in Satara and spoke very little English. He had just returned from some bank work one afternoon when he hurries over to my desk and says to me with some concern:

Sir aap ke paas pussy hai na?

Kya?? Nahin toh!

Sir aap ke paas pussy nahin hain to aaj hi karvake le lo. Nahin toh sau rupya fine lagenga. Abhi-abhi policewalle chowk pe sabko pakad rahe thae. (at which point I decided to have a little fun with our man Zende)

Sabko pakad rahe thae?? … Ladki log ko bhi?

Haan-haan Sir … ladki log ko bhi.

Arrey lekin ladki log ke paas toh rehta hi hai!

Nahin Sir. Maine ladkee log ko bhi fine bharte huae dekha.

… Tu kiss pussy ka baat kar raha hai bhai?

Pussy Sir -- gaadi ka Pollution Certificate!

Ohhhh … P.U.C!!

***

50th anniversary of the Lego brick today. Thank you Lego for all those hours and hours you kept me occupied as a kid.

Blast from the past. Suzanne Vega ... another one which was a favourite with the Radio Bahrain DJ's back in the 80's.

And then you see a face. So young, so fresh, so full of life. Which is everything you once were and are not anymore. The twinkle in the eye, the joy in the laughter, energy that can illuminate your soul. And when she sang, it was like a choir of angels had descended from the heavens to enthrall you.

What really does age teach us anyway? To savour every moment and make the most of it. But now there is so little left to savour.

***

It can be quite a dilemma not knowing what it is that will make you happy. No knowing what to go after.

Carly Simon. Don't know why but I just feel like listening to this right now. Used to play a lot on the radio back in Bahrain. Sometimes I want to go back there. Perhaps I will discover something I knew a long time ago and forgot.

I heard the mobile ring in my pocket and pulled over to the side of the road to take it. When I saw it was my mum calling I knew what it was. The news we all knew was coming. She was gone. Nearly ten years of suffering, operation after operation, the diabetes, the wounds that wouldn't heal, finally it was over. If I had gone to Goa for Christmas I'd have met her one last time, but it wasn't to be. On the phone couple of weeks ago all she kept saying was that she was praying for me. That's what grandmothers do most I guess - pray.

I couldn't hold back the tears, right there on the road. Did she have a good life I wondered? It was a tough life, that's for sure. Those were the days when girls were married off at 18 or 20, and had to make the best of the future that was on offer. There were very few choices. Given that I'd say she had a better life than many others.

Death and suffering is something I always find myself running away from. I know I would have gone for the funeral had it not come at such a bad time. But it's like one of the guys from the office in Zuerich said to me - for things such as these there's never a good time.

Memories keep flooding in ... things she used to say to us when we were kids, the way she could understand everything we said in English without being able to speak a word of the language herself, and of course all those summer holidays in the big house up on the hill that was built brick by brick. It won't be the same without her when we go back there next month, my brother and I, but we must go back. Not so much to relive the memories as to say thank you.

like two sparrows in a hurricane
trying to find their way
the world says they'll never make it
but love says they will