All for a reason

His words sounded like great philosophy.
Seeing me a little down in spirits, my colleague said: “There are certain things beyond our control. Worrying over unavoidable events is like throwing petrol on fire while attempting to douse it.”
“I was just thinking, not worried,” I replied.
But he went on to tell the story of a rat.
Repeatedly troubled by a cat, it went to a sage and told him about its plight. “Don’t worry, I will turn you into a cat,” said the sage. The cat was happy for a few days, but was haunted by a dog. “I will turn you into a deer.” The cheerful deer was chased by a lion. “There you go, now I turn you into a lion,” the sage told the deer. The lion was happy for a few days until it was caught by men and dumped in a circus cage. “Please make me a rat again,” it pleaded with the sage.
“Interesting,” I told him, and remembered an incident that boss SB had told me. He had asked a tiger reserve chief, “Why protect tigers? Let them perish.” The reserve official replied, “The ecological balance is like a jigsaw. You remove one and the entire structure is shaken. Tigers have their own important role.”
We were walking back smiling when I noticed my female friend stare at herself wherever there was a glass door or elevator mirror.
“You look good,” I told her and she replied, “Of course, I always do.”
I did not dare to dispute that, though I was not too sure.
After all, just a minute ago, I was also looking at the mirror and feeling the same way.

Healing words

Death is a challenge. It tells us not to waste time. It tells us to tell each other right now that we love each other.
- Leo Buscaglia
I do not have words to thank fellow bloggers, my precious friends, who sent in touching words of consolation after my brother passed away. Wish you and your dear ones much peace and good health.
In a contemplative mood, I came across this Q&A where Yudhishtira (Truth representative) offered the answers. Thought will share with you.
“What is the most absurd thing in life?”
“We see millions of people around us die yet we never think we will die.”
“What rescues man in danger?"
“Courage."
"What is happiness?"
"Happiness is the result of good conduct."
How can one earn money? Of all the riches which is the best?
What is true wealth?
Money is to be earned by hard work. Learning is the best
of riches. Health is wealth.
What is faster than the wind? What troubles a person always?
The mind is faster than the wind. Worry troubles a
person always.
Who is a great man?
One who practices non-violence.
"Who accompanies a man in death?"
"Charity.”
"What is that, abandoning which man becomes loved by all?"
"Pride.”
"What is the loss which yields joy and not sorrow?"
"Anger.”
"What is that, by giving up which, man becomes rich?"
"Desire, getting rid of it, man becomes wealthy."

Dear brother

Lost my very dear elder brother - heart attack. Plz keep us in your prayers.

Take it easy, buddy

“Gypsies hardly die of heart attack as they have a hearty life free of materialistic worries,” said my colleague.
“Oh, really?” I responded.
“As a child we smile 200 times a day, but as adults we hardly smile,” he said.
“That’s funny,” I smiled, and asked “What’s the reason?”
“Simple man. Tension. For everything we get tense. Just drive across the city and see every other motorist grim-faced and angry. The motorists who do not look angry are those who keep chatting on their mobile phones while driving. After all, they know it’s just the pedestrian who will die and not themselves.”
“Shucks. We should never get tense for any reason,” I told him.
“Ya true,” he grinned, but then immediately changed his expression. “Oh God, I forgot to ring up the bank regarding the credit card.”
“Buddy, we promised to remain cool.”
“Shut up, you don’t know when to joke and when to be serious,” he was running away from me.

Tailored trouble

I picked up a jean, found the regular size tight and told the tailor-friend at the mall to alter it.
“So you putting on weight,” he mocked, asking “How is Rajesh?” “Oh, that tinku (shortie)?” I asked and instantly noted a frown in the tailor’s face. Shucks, the tailor himself is a “tinku,” shorter than Rajesh.
Realising the blunder, I changed the subject, “People prefer readymade garments; how do you tailors manage?”
“We are going great,” he said. “As long as there are women, our business will thrive.”
“And as long as there are women, husbands will suffer,” I told myself.
Friend A told me she almost slapped a tailor who ruined her party dress. “Don’t ask about that idiot,” she said angrily, and I shut up worried she will throw her mobile on my face.
Our own tailor in Chennai used to have a trademark pencil on his ears, inch tape around his waist and half folded pant. He was notorious in ruining dresses. Once a nephew’s full pant had to be used as shorts by my tall brother.
A politician went to a tailor to get his pant stitched. “No worry, I will keep the pocket long,” said the tailor knowing about the corrupt guy.
“Make it normal,” said the politician. “These days they send directly to my Swiss account.”

Wasting time on blog?

I was angry for a minute.
You would be, if you heard what my friend said: “You are wasting time on a useless blog.”
Wasting time?
This blog has meant a lot to me. It has given me an identity. I am in a different country and staying away from family. Distance has sucked many a good friends from Mumbai. But this blog brought in precious new buddies.
Wasting time?
Last year, a personal problem bogged me down. Five blog friends spent hours chatting with me just to cheer me up.
I have been in touch over phone with quite a few. Some of us have met in Dubai, Mumbai or Chennai. I have discussed various subjects with college students, doctors, engineers, chefs and other professionals. Some are close acquaintances now and we are almost in daily touch.
When I needed info about college admission for my daughter, it was a blog friend who helped. When I told a friend abroad how expensive is college education, without hesitation she asked, “Can I be of any help?” Thank God, I did not need, but was deeply touched.
I just heard that a good blog buddy is marrying another blog friend of mine. They met through blogs.
Know what? I found a friend from Switzerland. Hi brother, she said, and I replied, Hi sister, only to correct, Hi Swisster.
Now she is one of the best gifts that this blog brought me.
Wasting time?
Wait until I list all the best things that my blog brought for me.
Grrr.

Young-hearted old friend

I caught up with my old friend (hey, not age-wise) at Pune recently. I had mentioned to you about Adi Aibara (Left corner). He lives alone in a deserted area in Pune, along with a dog called Blair. The other pet he had, Bush, is unfortunately no more. Even fetching a can of water is a challenge, but my friend prefers to stay in the same place, away from the hustle-bustle of the city.
“You are still looking young, buddy,” I told him,
“I wish I could say that to you as well,” he joked.
When there were bomb blasts in Mumbai years ago, I and Adi were just 10 buildings away from Mumbai stock exchange. Hearing the sound, I asked the editor of a magazine with whom we were talking, “is it some blast or what?” When we reached the road, we realised that it indeed was a blast at the stock exchange.
Oooff.

Frog in the well

I had seen him with religious marks and in a traditional dress. Last week, I saw him with a tattoo on his arms, diamond ring piercing through his ears, branded shirt and a forced accent.
“What happened to you?” I asked in bewilderment.
“One has to go global buddy. You should not remain a frog in the well. Enter the sea and explore,” he advised.
“Good idea,” I replied and remembered how Joe Crasto, my sports editor in the former newspaper, used to chide me for entering the office in jeans, T-shirt and not formals.
I always thought journalists were free birds until MBAs and marketing sections took control of editorials and some newspapers started selling news columns.
“Is it too late for people like us in late 40s to join the gang?” I asked the guy.
“Just change your accent, put on a tattoo, talk businessman language and if possible, get a girl friend,” he listed his ideas.
“Can I start in the reverse order?” I asked, when he replied, “You better remain a frog in the well.”