Generation ‘gaffe’

The children now love luxury. They have bad manners, contempt for authority; they show disrespect for elders and love chatter in place of exercise.

These are not my words, but of great philosopher, Socrates.

So it is that generation after generation, we are used to blaming GenNext for all the ills in the society.

There is a need to press the “pause” key on this trend and acknowledge that the present generation kids are gems, who work very hard, are more focused, and sadly, are deprived of much leisure and playtime that the earlier generations enjoyed.

Bullock cart days offered much spare time, competition was less and colleagues behaved like family. Just a few decades ago, phones and television were luxury items, leaving more time for social get-togethers. No computers meant plenty of time for oneself and no 24/7 duties.

Doctors earlier never asked for a dozen medical tests for even minor ailments like cold, cough and sneezing. A doctor would just ask the patient to open his mouth wide like a hippopotamus and immediately declare, “You have diphtheria.”

Fast forward. Children have no time for their parents, friends or even themselves. Round-the-clock classes means they have little time to eat, play or make merry. When they fall sick, the list of medical tests could test anyone’s patience.

Rat race has made them machines, while machines are injected with artificial intelligence to compete.

In spite of such a challenging field of action, today’s kids shine like stars and often use charming words like “Awesome, Cool.”

Stop blaming kids and instead salute them.

Something missing

I glanced at the mirror and instantly realised something was missing.

“It has to do with your old-fashioned goggles, dad. Throw it out and grab a new branded one,” suggested my daughter.

The idea sounded good and within a week my look had changed, but the mirror reflection indicated something was still missing.

“It is because of the wrinkles, dad. Try out the new face cream. It’s awesome,” recommended my second daughter, naming a branded item.

Cool indeed it was. My face was shining the whole day, but I could sense something was still missing.

When I confided in my best friend, she studied me for a second and her face flashed with an idea.

“There you go. Look at your hairstyle again in the mirror. That’s where the fault lies. Use a gel,” she came out with a name.

I went for it and yet the problem persisted.

I remained silent and tried to comprehend what was wrong. The answer emerged from the silence. 

Next day, when I entered the office, my pretty female colleague gave a high-five, while my Ugandan colleague gave a hug. There was cheer all around and I had found what was missing.

Yes. The smile.

Roach chase

On a recent visit to my hometown, Chennai, I entered my kitchen only to dash out at rapid speed when I came under what looked like a drone attack.

Well, it wasn’t a drone spewing bullets, but apparently a huge flying cockroach.

Most cockroaches in Chennai are huge in size and many also have the dreaded wings.

My immediate instinct was to go for my shoes, but the pest had landed on my shoulder.

Hearing the commotion, my startled daughter called out from the other room, “What’s up?”

“Cockroa....”

Before I could complete my sentence, she had already escaped to our neighbour’s room.

With my brave wife away, I had to take on the flying monster all by myself.

I put on the light, opened the windows and door. Nothing worked. I tried trapping the pest with a towel, but only things fell all around.

It was then that the watchman arrived, passed a sarcastic smile at me, caught the pest with bare hands and walked out like a lion clutching a baby deer.

I remembered reading a quote on social media, “We are all brave until we realise that the cockroach has wings.”

Cut to pieces

I have a perennial problem with vegetable choppers.

Every time I watch a salesman push an onion or a carrot under an “easy to chop” appliance and hit on the head of the gadget, I get a “wow, so easy” feeling.

The vegetable pieces are ready to be relished as awesome salad, with just a little addition of salt and chilies. And, they come in stunning shapes too. 

All that, when the salesman does it.

When I buy and try the same at home, all that happens is breaking of the kit into multiple pieces with the first knock on the head. Not that I am Bruce Lee, but most of such equipment are so flimsy that even a child could break it.

Incidentally, yesterday’s was the fourth such vegetable chopper I broke.

No, knife is not the best bet either.

Often, I end up cutting my fingers.

The best part was when a former colleague visited our home and boasted about her ability to cut vegetables very fast.

“I do not believe you,” I replied, dropping half a kilo of onions before her.

I should confess that she did a great job in a few minutes, ignoring all the tears in her eyes.

“Ya, now I agree,” I patted her after she finished.

And I got a pat from my wife for getting the job done.

It is another matter that the former colleague never ever visited me again.

Anything for coffee, boss

One day a couple of years ago, my teacher-wife was leaving for school in the morning when she muttered to me, “Can you cook today as I will be late?”

I agreed and a little later began to chop vegetables when my phone bell rang.

It was my boss.

After our official discussion, I mentioned to him that I was trying to cook.

“Oh. The trap has been set. Now you will cook forever,” he said.

I ignored it as a joke, but years later I am still cooking.

A few months ago, my wife said one day, “Can you dry the clothes?”

I replied, “Only for today.”

The deal struck, I did so.

My boss laughed, “Another trap.”

Months later, I am still drying the clothes. 

“Clean the room,” “throw the papers,” commands continue.

I continue to obey.

Last week, I lost my cool. Enough is enough.

“No more tasks for me. Do it all yourself or forget it,” I told my wife.

“Okay. I will not make filter coffee for you anymore,” she shot back.

“Oh dear, I was joking,” I dragged.

Anything for coffee, boss.

Comical day!

A morning walk can rejuvenate both the body and the mind, but I realised last week that it could also prove to be entertaining.

I stepped out on Sharjah’s Al Wahda Street when I noticed a shop cleaner menacingly waving a broom and trying to crush a cockroach. Every time he attacked, the insect dodged and eventually rushed onto the footpath.

The furious cleaner would not give up. His owner was not paying him to spare creepy-crawlers that intrude into the shop.

One, two, three..all his attempts missed the target.

Exasperated, he took a final aim and dashed towards the darting pest, when it happened.

A cyclist appeared from nowhere, dashed against the “dancing” cleaner and in the melee the roach made good its escape.

This wasn’t the only entertainment of the day. When I was returning home, I saw a man kissing his phone again and again.

“Love you,” “Love you,” he kept repeating, oblivious of the passers-by watching him.

This man obviously either lost his heart or his mind.

Nuggets of joy

It is small things that multiply our happiness.

I love every minute of my weekly off day.

A nagging toothache last weekend meant the evening had to be spent on a dentist’s chair. When I entered the clinic, I was told my number was 15. That meant a waiting time of minimum two hours.

I was also informed that the doctor was going on leave for two weeks from the next day.

Patience and I are poles apart.

I booked my number and went out for a walk. After more than an hour, I returned to the clinic.

When in a minute the assistant said, “Your turn,” I whistled in joy. When the dentist let me off in two minutes saying a “minor cleanup” was all that was needed, I hopped out of the clinic in such a joyful mood that the waiting patients thought I had lost my head.

What a feeling of joy!

My nephew gifted me a wristwatch last week.

When I mentioned it on social media, some creative comments from friends included, “Timely start to New Year,” “Careful, you are ‘watch’ed,” ''Timepass'' and even “Wish we all had a nephew like yours!”

The pun and fun made it a delightful day. 

Newsman’s nightmare

I have a long way to go when it comes to use of even basic technology.

I was recently attending a press conference in Dubai and wanted to record the speech of a chief executive officer (CEO).

When the meeting started, I pressed the recorder key on my mobile phone, only to hear the blaring sound of my previously-recorded interview.

As the CEO stopped his speech and looked at me like an eagle ready to pounce on a frog, I struggled to shut my phone down and ended up pressing the wrong keys.

After the apologies, the meeting continued, but I was restless.

I quietly hid the phone under the table and tried again.

“La, la, la…” went another song that I had recorded.

As the annoyed CEO looked at me, I shut the phone and acted innocent.

The CEO saved the situation remarking, “But that’s a good song.”

This is not the first time that technology ditched me.

Once I was interviewing a Bollywood actor.

I tried to click his photograph with my outdated camera of those days.

When I reached home, I realised the camera had just flashed and there was no print.

Fortunately, a journalist colleague who had accompanied me had also clicked photos.

That saved the situation.

Funnily, the celebrity was praising my camera saying it was a good model.

(N)ever alone

At a time when most people complain about the unending rat race, I recently had a chance to meet a close friend in the Indian city of Pune, who stays away from the din of city life, with no neighbours for up to two kilometres.

Adi Aibara, 68, a former colleague, is known among friends to be a gem of a person who cares a lot for others.
He is passionate about justice for all. When the US launched a war on Iraq based on lies that the country had weapons of mass destruction, Adi expressed his resentment by picking up two dogs and symbolically naming them after top American and British leaders.
He did not even have electricity connection for years and drives long distance in a car to fetch and store water.
Lush green trees and plants surround his house. Birds and animals, including wolves, are the only regular visitors.
While that is not a bother for human friends who visit him on and off, snakes that shed their skins before disappearing do leave guests worried.
A woman friend who accompanied me refused to enter the house saying that she was extremely scared of snakes.
We convinced her to move in and have a soft drink when her umbrella accidentally fell on her feet.
“Snakeee,” she screamed, rushing out of the house.
We lost a few more precious minutes convincing her to re-enter the house.

Secrets of a ‘master chef’

“It’s very simple,” started my teacher-wife before leaving for school. 

“Heat oil with mustard and curry leaves. Fry chopped onion and tomatoes with salt. Add rice. That is it.”

I did not know cooking was so easy.

When she returned in the evening, the tomato rice was hailed as “yummy” and I was crowned “Master Chef.”

I did not realise then that I had ignored a repeated warning by my boss: “You do once at home, you do it forever.”

That one-day adventure encouraged my wife to leave the cooking department with me on most days.

The latest “easiest” recipe she suggested was for “Lemon rice.”

“Heat oil with red chilli, mustard, curry leaves and peanuts. Include salt and turmeric powder. Add cooked rice and squeeze lemon. Khalaas. So simple!”

Late in the evening, she was all praise for the “delicious lemon rice.”

It better be delicious as the “readymade mix” that I had bought without her knowledge was expensive.

Now, do not let her know this or I will have to visit your home for dinner.

Tasty bites

Minutes after Uruguay striker Luis Suarez appeared to bite Italian defender Giorgio Chiellini during the World Cup football match, the social media went on a “vampire mode” relishing every bit of the controversy.
“Once bitten, never shy,” “He wanted a taste of Italian pizza,” “Saurez found the match very appetising,” and “If you can’t beat them, eat them,” were among various comments on Facebook.
Former boxer Evander Holyfield, who himself was once bitten on the ear by Mike Tyson at a heavyweight championship fight,  tweeted, “I guess any part of the body is up for eating.”
Biting other people is wrong, of course, but personally, I envy people with strong teeth. Attempts to strengthen my own by consuming more milk, oranges and strawberries did not help me much.
As if to add insult to injury, many of my friends would use their shining teeth to open bottles, crush raw sugarcane or break strong nuts.
Tempted to do so, I once tried breaking a walnut with my teeth only to land on a dentist’s chair the next day as a patient.
My friend’s best advice to those who have the urge to bite is: “Bite your tongue.”

‘Pssst!...!’ Yes we know!

My friend’s eyes beamed as he tried to reveal a secret in hush-hush tones.  “If it is a secret, do not tell me. I cannot keep my own secrets,” I cautioned him.
“I trust you. Listen. I have got a better job offer,” he broke the suspense.
“Congrats. But please do not reveal the details,” I stopped him.
For three days I managed to keep the secret with myself. “Shhh..” was the keyword.
For a garrulous person like me, it was a Herculean task.
On the fourth day, sipping tea at the canteen, a group of my friends raised the subject on their own.
Everyone not only knew about what I thought was a Himalayan secret, but they had extra and latest details.
It was then that I realised, a secret is something one tells everybody to tell nobody.
Talking of secrets reminds me of a childhood incident.
My neighbour’s wayward son had a habit of stealing money. So one day, the father hid the money in a huge box, gave the key to his wife and said, “Keep the key in a secret place.”
Next day, the key was intact, but the box with the money had disappeared, along with the son.

Awkward moments

Every one of us goes through awkward moments at some stage in life.  I have had my bit too.

It was an hour-long walking session at the beautiful Sharjah Corniche, where I saw awesome people of different nationalities. I exchanged greetings with a couple of known faces. When I returned to my building, the watchman smiled and said: “You have worn your T-shirt the wrong way.”

I only hope the pretty people who crossed my path that day considered it the latest fashion.

There were a couple of newcomers in my neighborhood. I was chatting with a boy. Pointing out at a tall guy passing by, I mentioned, “This fellow thinks too much of himself.”

The boy looked surprised but asked politely, “Why do you think so?”

“He claims to be a lawyer and acts as if he is a judge,” I replied.

“Have you interacted with him?” the boy asked.

“Once or twice, but I do not have a great impression.” I went on.

“You should try talking to him more. My brother is not so bad,” the boy smiled, leaving me absolutely embarrassed. I had learnt my lesson on the evil of backbiting.

An elderly teacher shared with me her embarrassing moment.

Her primary class students were innocent but naughty. One boy broke the silence in the class by asking, “Maam, can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Are you pregnant?”

“Sit down,” shouted the embarrassed, obese teacher.

Before the boy sat down, another commented, “How can she be pregnant, you stupid. She is old.”

The teacher joined a gym the next day.

Perils of multitasking

During my college days, when a neighbour used to enter a restroom with a newspaper on hand, his brother would mock him saying, “One thing at a time, stupid.”
Talk about multitasking, things seem to have come a long way.
The other day, I noticed a woman taking her morning walk while reading a book and earplugs on.
My friend just shared with me his latest experience.
It was the weekend. His wife switched on the television to watch her favourite serial and also kept milk on the stove to prepare tea. It was then that her sister called on the phone.
The gossip session began, when a relative of my friend entered with his wife and naughty child.
In minutes, the house turned into a war zone with the child throwing things around.
The parents would “admonish” the child in a loving tone, “Don’t do that baby.”
But which baby ever cared if “reproached” in such loving tones?!
A cartoon show replaced the wife’s favourite serial.
The overheated milk spilt.
By the time, the guests left, the wife had completed her much-awaited sentence, “All your relatives are like that.”
Yes, one thing at a time is best, but may not be a norm anymore.
Despite the repeated warning by authorities not to speak on the cellphone while driving, I often find motorists risking their own lives and others’ by doing so.
I recently saw a motorist driving with a burger on one hand and earplugs on. A cute woman was also passing by, distracting his attention. 

‘Breathtaking’ idea

What is green economy to you?
A private company posed this question to visitors at the Water, Energy, Technology, and Environment Exhibition (Wetex 2014) in Dubai.
The visitors were asked to write down their views on a notice board.
It elicited varied and interesting reactions, highlighting a growing awareness among people about environmental challenges and green solutions.
“Retain comfort but use less resources,” “Bring back Chipko Movement” (Hugging trees to protect them from being felled), “We cut trees for paper and write in it, save trees,” “Close AC in afternoon summer,” Reduce traffic by changing school timings” and “Solar schools” were among the suggestions.
An Emirati national who was writing on the board in Arabic told this correspondent, “If we do not care about the environment, who will?”
There were others who recommended, “Start from the base, start from the children, they are the base of the future,” “Use blackboards in office than white boards,” and “Stop technology and increase manual work.”
One had a scary suggestion: “Breathe less – generate less CO2.”

Pants on fire

I was walking on Al Wahda Street along with a friend when his phone buzzed. 

“I am in a meeting. Call later,” he replied abruptly. 

Surprised, I asked why he should utter a lie unnecessarily. 

“The woman who called is a pest. She will nag me for half an hour,” he replied and moved off. 

That kept me wondering why people indulge in falsehood. 

My father repeatedly warned me never to tell a lie. It is not easy though. After his advice, I decided never to lie and once confessed to him that I got the lowest marks in my class. The instant reaction was a tight slap in my face. 

Well, telling the truth was worth it though. My dad regretted his action that same day and cajoled me with ice-cream and mangoes. 

I have stuck to the dictum and never ever try to tell a lie. 

What is amazing is the way politicians and celebrities get away with lies.  

Remember George W. Bush who insisted that Iraq had weapons of mass destruction and launched a war that claimed thousands of innocent lives?

Who would have dreamt of a cycle of lies by Lance Armstrong, who had won the Tour de France seven times before being disqualified and banned from competitive cycling for doping offences?

The list of liars is huge. 

Funnily, it seems being a liar was easier before Google.

During my college days, I had a friend who reeled out wrong statistics on any subject at the drop of a hat. Now I can just press a few keys and Google will search and expose such people instantly. 

Guessing games

I was rushing to the restroom when my cellphone started ringing.
“How are you?”
The voice was not familiar. Even otherwise, I have poor ability in remembering voices or names.
“Good. Who is this?” I asked.
And then started the drama.
“You do not remember me? Oh my goodness, how can you forget me?”
The suspense went on for a good three minutes and I had to cut the phone.
The person called again and introduced herself as a public relations professional who had met me almost three years ago at a function in Dubai.
This is not the first time that I had to face such a situation.
On my recent visit to Chennai, a good man hugged me, talked to me about my family, childhood days and kept asking, “Do you remember how we used to throw stones at the mango tree and the old man used to chase us?”
Goodness gracious. I do not remember a damn thing, leave alone mango or stone, which is that old man he was referring to.
But I did flash a plastic smile, shook hands and escaped. I am still rewinding, but my memory refuses to recognise the friend.
Talk of guessing games and I remember a joke.
A man told his friend, “If you can guess how many mangoes are there in this bag, I will give you both.”
“Three,” came the reply.

Beauty and the beast

Does beauty matter for an individual?

“Absolutely,” insists my businessman-nephew.

He says he lost good business deals whenever he made presentations looking “a little shabby or not shaping up the hairstyle.”
Going by the fact that some of my charming female friends got several “likes” and positive comments after posting their colourful nails, shampooed hair, shiny legs and cropped eyebrows on Facebook, I am also tempted to nod my head like a goat.
But how can I go by social media ratings?! Even British Prime Minister David Cameron is said to have paid thousands of pounds to get himself more Facebook “likes” on his official page. 
With conflicting thoughts on the subject, I switched on the television and entered the animal world. There was this most attractive fish, with eye-catching colours, untiring fins and twinkling eyes. It zoomed ahead and took a rapid turn around a tiny piece of dark, ugly rock. Wait a minute. Did I mention rock? I was mistaken. It turned out to be some Reef Stonefish.
It all happened in a jiffy. Something like a mouth opened and shut at the speed of a camera flash. The story of the beauty was over; eaten and digested by an ugly beast.
Actress Audrey Hepburn, who herself was quintessentially  glamorous, had remarked: “For beautiful eyes, look for the good in others; for beautiful lips, speak only words of kindness; and for poise, walk with the knowledge that you are never alone.”
I have reached a conclusion: there is nothing more beautiful than a calm and cheerful countenance. 

Time pass

I hear one constant remark every day from someone or the other: “Oh my God. How fast time has gone by.”

When my wife moved from Mumbai to Chennai for the birth of my daughter in 1990, a couple joined me as room partners. They later shifted to another city and we lost track. The couple recently tracked the wedding photo of my daughter on Facebook and the reaction was, “Oh my God. How fast time has gone by.”

My colleague is quitting after 16 years of service. I heard at least three other colleagues telling him, “OMG. How fast…”

Modern technology offers everything at jet speed. Distances have shrunk, snail-mails are dead, bullock carts are showpieces and virtual shopping is the norm.

So much time has been saved in travel and communication.

Yet, we do not get time to smell the roses or admire the beauty of the twinkling stars.  

What’s the reason?

Sorry, I do not have time to analyse. If you know the answer or manage to search it on Google, do email me.

And talking about time reminds me of a joke:

A wall clock fell on the ground and the owner yelled, “I hate this clock. It is always slow. Just a minute ago, my mother-in-law was standing under it.”

The din and the fun

Handling a wedding is a gargantuan task, especially if you are parents of a bride from the south of India.

The invites, hall booking and decoration, catering, priests, appeasement of some sulking Solomons  and keeping the  huge gathering in good cheer calls for the expertise of a ring master at a circus surrounded by lions.

The host hardly gets time to chat with the special guests who arrive from far and wide.

At the recent wedding of my daughter in Chennai, some wonderful friends and relatives sprang pleasant surprises by dropping in. Their presence made the occasion grand. However, there was hardly a minute to interact. We met years later and yet parted in minutes without as much of a little update.

The grumblers do complete the show. “The tap is not working,” “The cleaners are lazy,” “One tubelight is flickering.”

One rushed to me when I was in a deep conversation with a close friend to say, “The toilets are stinking.”

I suppressed my anger and used humour:  “Do not worry. I have ordered special perfumes from America.”

Thankfully, the guest thought I was serious and disappeared in the crowd.

Read a joke about husbands:

Husband is a man who lost his liberty in the pursuit of happiness.