Feel good factor

I was cleaning up my cupboard and stumbled on a beautiful Laughing Buddha figurine. It revived wonderful memories.
A couple of years ago I used to buy tiny statues of Laughing Buddha from a particular shop owned by a Bohri Muslim in Navi Mumbai and gift them to friends. It was supposed to bring luck to the receiver.
I was stunned by the reactions. Most friends reported they received at least one good news.
No. I do not believe in superstitions. But I was happy coz I was able to see my friends happy.
Some dub it destiny; others call it pleasant surprise. But I like what Carl Jung called “meaningful coincidences.”
Colleague Sylvi came running and said: “Your LB worked wonders. I got good news.”
“Do not tell me you are getting engaged. One or two handsome colleagues may jump out of window,” I joked.
“Shut up,” she continued, “I got a pay hike.”
Ravi echoed similar sentiments. “I got pleasant news from home town,” he told me.
When I visited the shop again, the owner asked me why I was buying so many of the same gift item. I told him the reason.
With a broad smile, he offered a bigger Laughing Buddha saying, “You are giving everyone. Now, we are giving you this gift. Tell us if you get good news.”
I swear. Within a month I got a job offer from a Sharjah newspaper, which I accepted.

Oh dog! My ego's hurt

Poorva's interesting experience is worth sharing. Hence repeating her comment as a post. This is what she wrote from Texas:
I too had a brush with death when another "guard dog" took upon himself to protect his master!!!
My father and I were dragging an old cupboard out of the gate, when our neighbour's dog decided that we were tresspassing! He bounced towards us making a horrible noise which I suppose was a growl! My father was nearer to the entrance and had to defend himself. So he let of the massive cupboard which evidently slammed into the ground and after I broke its fall!
My father is 6.2 feet tall and when the dog jumped up, he was almost as tall as my father!
Mercifully our neighbor was watching and came running and stopped the dog by just tapping his tail! Alsatian's jaws snapped inches away from my father but thankfully he was unhurt! I ran away yelling...frightened to the core!
I ended up with minor bruises and a severely hurt ego :P!!

Hunter gets hunted

The lush green lawn of our office premises draws in lots of colourful birds. Among them the mynahs. The mynahs are known to be aggressive and noisy but yesterday I witnessed a heart-rending scene.
I was reaching the canteen with my senior colleagues when I saw an innocent mynah pecking some insects or whatever on the quite lawns. Neither the naïve bird, nor me, expected a four-legged terror to spring from behind a tree at such rapid speed. The cat was not looking that ferocious, but brutal it indeed was. In a matter of seconds, it was all over. The victim’s struggle to live and the terminator’s rage to kill – the drama was all there.
The one relishing food was being relished. The surrounding mynahs did protest. They created a noisy scene and tried to poke the cat, but ultimately gave up.
When we finished our tea and returned, the leftovers of the mynah’s corpse was lying on the ground. We had had our sandwich and the cat its.
Additional input from Net: Mynahs feed on ground on insects, but take small vertebrates, occasionally eggs and nestlings of other birds, fruit and grain. They are considered a pest in Australia, where noisy winter roosts of several thousand occupy city trees and buildings.
PS: Just the earlier day, my Pakistani friend Ansar Salim saved a mynah from instant death by shooing away the same cat.

The heat is on

When it’s summer in a desert, we better grin and bear it. As my friend says it looks as if our head is emitting smoke while we walk on the roads. Already a female colleague had blood oozing through her nose. The mercury almost touches 50 on many days.
“I entered a taxi and could not bear the smell of sweat from the driver. Got down before my destination,” said a friend. It’s another matter that he himself was bathing in sweat and I could not stand near him.
My Filipina friend wanted to buy a colourful umbrella. “Which colour your boyfriend likes?” asked a co-worker. “Which boyfriend?” she asked innocently.
One is forced to take bath many times a day. “I had to take bath five times yesterday,” lamented a comrade. “Oh, you are the culprit? I was wondering how the water bill shot up so high this month and soaps keep vanishing from the rest room!” his roommate pounced on him.
I have a cap with the words “Looking Great.” A Goan friend tried to boost my morale. “Buddy, that pretty girl who has joined recently was praising you. I think she feels your cap is cute.”
“Me or the cap?” I asked.
“Obviously stupid, it’s the cap. How can she mean you?”
My God, I did not know I was talking to an enemy.

What a pleasure, this pain!

Saturday being my off day I enjoy it thoroughly. Today no exception. Morning started off well with a spiritual song, cleaning the kitchen, then bathroom. When I wash the toilet, I remember Gandhi, how humble it makes one. Put on the computer and was thrilled to see 50th member (only friends, no “followers”) Ava has joined. My friends are your friends, and yours mine. Hence a little clap for her.. Plz plzz.. Thanks.
OK, as I said I was in good mood. My stereo set was loud. I always keep it like that. And suddenly I heard that song. It’s a Tamil song of the 70s (Madrasis, you know this song, Sivaji’s adi ennadi raakamma, translated..hey what ya Raakamma.. Plz don’t laugh at my translation every time).What a song man! Literally rocks.
First I started tapping the table, slowly my legs started moving right to left and back to front. I looked at the mirror. The image said “Go for it.” And then it started. The dance.
MJ would have given up if he had seen me dancing. It was a “tappanguthu” (Tamil) style song (What in English I dunno, rap, pop?!) I brought my right elbow to the front, my left leg moved backwards automatically, right elbow front, right leg moved back.
Again, the mirror echoed, Great going dude. (My dance-loving daughter’s voice screamed in my mind –Papa you are insulting dancers). I was determined to listen to the mirror image.
And then it happened. I lifted my right leg a little above the needed height and bummm…I fell flat..With my bum hitting the ground.
Ooof…
The pain. What a pleasure it is.

Thumbs up to hitchhiking

Just before the inauguration of the prestigious Vashi Railway Station in Navi Mumbai in early 90s, residents used an old bridge linking the area with the nearest station Mankhurd.
The Thane creek bridge, as it was called, witnessed corrosion cracks in merely two years. But people were forced to rely on it for years until a new rail bridge was constructed alongside.
I was among many to stand on the Vashi highway and hitchhike to Mankhurd. There were several goodhearted two-wheeler owners who would readily oblige. I had made several friends that way. One particular guy was a philosophical person who kept repeating the mantra “Time is the best healer.” One day I joked my time cannot heal as my watch had stopped because of cell trouble. Another one asked me for a loan of Rs 100 after picking me up for three days. But he did return it in a week.
One particular day, a white Ambassador car halted after I flashed a thumbs up sign. The one behind the wheels wore a red tie and looked like an executive. “Do come in,” he welcomed me. We had a friendly chat during the travel and when I was about to alight after thanking him, he said: “Gentleman, pass on Rs10.” I was surprised, but paid. The Times of India still runs a column called Citylights where we used to be paid Rs75 for a piece those days. As soon as I entered the office, I filed a Citylight item about the gentleman and got Rs75. Smart, right?

Three tricksters at the gate

There were three stout Asians when I opened the door.
“Sir, we are from a charity organization. Any donation is welcome,” they pleaded.
I generally do not entertain such people, but felt I should offer something. “An unexperimented life is not worth it,” Socrates’ words echoed in this journalist’s mind. Let me check out how genuine they are, I told myself. After all, there is nothing worth robbing in my house and Sharjah is known to be a very safe place.
“I give you Dhs10,” I said, ignoring caution signals from my mind.
“Water please,” they entered my home.
“It is for a noble cause. We are helping poor people,” said one.
“Ok. I will give double the promised amount,” I offered.
After sipping water, they said, “Pay Dhs100.”
“One minute,” I replied and went to the nearby room keeping an eye on them. I picked up my mobile, and spoke in my mother tongue loudly and purposely mentioned “three people” in English.
“Sit, sit, what were you saying?” I asked them.
“Thank you, sir,” they barged out in a hurry thinking I had alerted someone.
PS: Never open the gate to a stranger.

RATtled...

Thought I should share with my friends this story I wrote some time back in our Panorama magazine...You may like reading it...