Life in a nutshell

When I was little, I was a star

My mum’s pride and my dad’s pet

I had no care, and neither a worry

My mum and dad gave me the rice and curry.

In my teens, I had loads of friends,

We played running around, and chor police

I kept my grades, and teachers were happy

All I concerned was my acne.              

When I completed high school,

Everyone said take science,

Study this, and study that

Such confusion, and family spat

When I started work, I thought about the money

And my career, and my growth

And promotion and onsite

And I wondered when and I worried how

But it only got worse every then and now.

When I married, I thought life would be better

I now have someone to share my matter

But looks like both are in a race and the worries only double

How I wish I was a child without any trouble.

I thought I could get old, and frail

And then my life would be, without any fail

Oh! The aches and the pains, and oh, I forget

Where I put my teeth and my cane.

Troubles and worries are a part of life, they say

The degree of it changes over night and day

A new life comes and an old one goes

What doesn’t change is the worries it sows

To all my teachers

Its been nearly nine years since I've updated the blog. So cheers to me getting back here again.

Thank you Lord for the gift of me.
Thank you Ma and Da for loving me.
Thank you Dush for all the fights
Thank you Mun for TV rights.

Thank you Titus Sir for the poet in me
Thank you Susan Tr for the crafts I did
Thank you Ancy Ma'am, for the numbers in my head
Thank you Tr Kauns for the literary pad.

Thank you Sir Talekar for the wonders you did
You transformed a nut into a whiz kid
Thank you Sir Balekar for the trust you showed
What I am today to you I owe

Thank you Maam Wenonah for the basics of C
Thank you Sir Pujari I did not fail in EG
Thank you Sir Nadkarni for your out of syllabus ppts
Because of it I understood bioinformatics

Thank you Maam Kavita for the database and sql
Thank you Maam Neena for the shoulder you lent
Thank you Maam Reena for the songs we sang in class
The project you mentored really helped us pass

I am indebted to so many mentors
Who shaped and moulded the best in me
The unsung heroes, the non applauded faces
Today I say a thank you for the blessings and graces.

Color Woes

Life has been a bed of roses with the occasional thorns. I've loved the pinks, blues and the greens. Just recently have had the fetish for black as well. All the colors definitely add zing to the clothes, accessories and shoes. But people!!! I've never considered myself dark - dusky maybe but not dark. Even if I was, does it make me less a human or does it bring down any of the goodies in me.

But I've had it now! To be called inferior because of my complexion is beyond my grasp. !!&%@^*@ to you all. I don't care.

The Valued Princess

“They said I was a valued customer, now they send me hate mail.”
― Sophie Kinsella, Confessions of a Shopaholic

When I first heard myself being called a valued customer, I was over the moon. I thought of myself as this unique crowned princess. I imagined myself in all those pretty dresses in the aisle, and being fussed around by those dainty looking CSR's. But my bubble did not last long when I paid my hard earned cash and zoomed ahead only to hear those priceless words again, this time not aimed at me, but some other scrawny looking princess who already held her head up high, it would reach the ceiling.

When I landed a job into Customer Service at Sainsbury's while I finished my MBA degree, I learnt the tricks of the trade. I could mouth those flattering sentences as if saying my night prayers. As I gave my broadest smile, I could see the customers going from drooping shoulders to knights with shining shopping bags. 

Yet, several years later I have still not learned my lesson. As I pass rows of teasing manequins, I can hear them whisper, "You will look amazing my valued customer. Try me" or "Blue suits you. Go for it". I just can't resist the temptation of being a princess even for a fleeting moment when my chin moves up and I walk past gallantly with the shopping bags in tow and yes I smile as I hear those distant words again,"Ma'am, you are a valued customer". 

Wait. Did I tell you about the piece of paper with scary numbers on it that greets me through the post. They say its called a bill, I call it disaster. Well. That's for another time.

What a malady?

I'm just curious and surprised that how come all celebrities who get arrested seem to get jaundice or need psychiatric treatment once arrested but seem hale and hearty otherwise. The newspaper nowadays is rife with news of celebrities being arrested and then given bail on medical grounds. On the other hand the common man also ends up in the hospital on being arrested but either in the morgue or seriously abused by the men in brown.

What a malady?

One possible solution could to be to have an in house hospital in the jail itself.

Memories - August 1990

A memory is what is left when something happens and does not completely unhappen.
~Edward de Bono

As a little girl and then as an adult, my world is full of memories of the past - some pleasant, some not so and some horridly terrifying. There are some memories that are vividly recalled while others are pushed down to the bottom core of where they would be. 2 August itself has so many memories associated. However, 2 August 1990 stands out more than any other. The day when two nations changed history, the day when world economies changed but more so the day when a little girl explored a new world.

I can never forget 2 August 1990. It has been clearly etched in my mind. Just the day before, my parents took me on my first trip to the beach. Before that the beach and the sea was only a word and some pictures I had seen in books. But that day my Arabic teacher had punished me with an 'out-standing' reward for answering a question incorrectly, and as I came back I was noticeably upset. It was then my parents had taken me to the Kuwait Towers and the beach there for the first time. It was awesome. The breeze in the faces, the waves lapping the little rocks and the magnificent revolving towers in the background. Life was picture perfect.

And then dawned the day of 2 August 1990. As I woke up that day, I knew something was quite not right. One, my parents were not in a hurry to get ready and shoot off for work but were glued to the TV. Second, I was not sent to school. I could feel the tension in the air but who cares - I had a day off and could play with my friends in the building to my heart's content.
For that day and several days later, I was only playing around, meeting up, running around buildings enjoying oblivious to what was going on. I definitely could see a little too many armed and uniformed officers but that did not bother me then. Neither did the fact that they were Kuwaitis or Iraqis. I was a free bird - and a little one with no worries, no school and a lot of friends.

As days passed, my parents decided to sell off their belongings and most household stuff they could not carry home. They would pitch ground in some place along with a lot of other families and people would come bargain and buy. I have no clue whether they did pocket some profit but now that I think of it, I am sure they got nothing but a paltry amount.

Terrifying as it sounds now, I had no clue what was going on. All I knew was that an eight year old was on an extended picnic. Apparently then the Indian Government decided to get their citizens back but what they could manage was to charter their citizens in a flight from Jordan to Mumbai. So my parents and other Goan families pooled their resources and got into buses that would take them to Jordan. Ideally, a flight trip from Kuwait to Mumbai takes 3 hours, that journey took us nine days traveling from Kuwait to Jordan via the terrains of Iraq.

The bus was stopped at every juncture, and whenever stopped one needed to change the bus, bribe the Iraqi officers to allow passage and finally living in refugee camps at minus temperatures and freezing conditions. But I enjoyed the entire journey. It was the best adventure I've ever had. It still pumps the adrenaline in me when I think of how helicopters dropped down an egg, and a tomato, jostling to grab a bite and my first night in a tent.

Finally as we arrive in Mumbai, the smiling and happy faces of my grandparents is clearly etched. I could not but understand their concern considering they had just met me last month when I had been to India.

Twenty years later life is back to normal. In fact what India could not achieve after sixty four years of independence, Kuwait has achieved ten times more in a few years. The rate of development and the structures built have erased every remembrance of the Gulf war. Except a few monuments remembering the Prisoners of War (POW), there is no trace that ever Saddam Hussien called this place as Iraq's seventeenth province. The world may curse the man called Saddam Hussien with expletives, but today I'd like to thank him. He gave me some beautiful memories. He gave me a life I would not have known had I been in Kuwait till now. He changed my fate. Thank You Mr Saddam Hussien. May you rest in peace.

What kind of person are you?

What kind of person are you?

There are millions of people jostling everyday to live, find peace and solace and fight the everyday struggles of life. There are people wanting to know and experience Jesus and there are others who can’t find the time to be bothered. What kind of a person are you?

St. Luke (Lk 9: 57-62) talks about three types of people who desire to follow Jesus.

1. The first person comes to Jesus and enthusiastically asserts that he would follow him wherever he would go. Am I that person?

I go for retreats after retreats, preacher after preacher tailing Jesus to see his wondrous miracles, signs and spectacular testimonies of healings. But Jesus reminds me that following Jesus is not that easy. I need to sacrifice my comforts, my rest, and food and then only follow him. I need to let go of all those luxuries if I truly love the Lord and wish to follow him. Only when I can let go of my comforts, can I truly follow Jesus.

2. Jesus himself invites the second person to follow him. But this person is too attached to his wealth and property that he would get after his father’s death. His subsistence is not in the Lord, but he needs to have a backup plan ready. Am I that person?

Do I say Lord, Let me first get this job or this marriage partner or let me achieve something in life and then I will follow you. Or Lord, I am too young now, once I’ve settled, then I will follow you. If I am this person, the Lord says to me let the people of this world who have the worldly mentality look after jobs and careers and marriages, but you have to go out and proclaim God’s word. You are not called for the things of this world, but for riches in heaven for Gods purpose. Traditions, superstitions and formalities of this world will not grant rest or give true happiness. You are called to be happy and obey God’s word. (Lk 11:28).

3. The third person places a condition stating that he would follow Jesus provided he can say goodbye at home. Am I that person?

Am I emotionally attached to my family, friends and past events in my life and letting go of it is affecting my relationship with Jesus? It is the devil who makes us guilty by reminding us of our notorious past. But the Lord Jesus reminds that a person who looks back once committed to God is not fit. God’s word gives us a blessing and people who keep looking back at their past are called to remember Gods wonderful promises in Is 43:18.



God did not refuse any of the above 3 people who wanted to follow him, but there is one person whom God refused to follow him. And that us this next person.

4. Mk5:18 , Mt 8: 28 – A demoniac who was residing in tombs was healed by the Lord. Are we like the demoniac living among spiritually dead people, promoting nudity and exposure of our body, violent and have suicidal tendencies like the demoniac? Am I that person?

I need to look back into my life and pray for release from the evil. When the demoniac who had been healed requested the Lord to let him follow, Jesus refused and asked him to go back home to his family and testify the wonderful deeds of the Lord. Because of this one testimony, people in 10 towns (Decapolis) believed in the Lord. The Lord has a plan for everybody (Jer 29:11) To some he asks to follow him, to some he asks to testify the Lord wherever they may be. What is God’s plan for me?

5. Some people want to follow God and do follow him. Some people cannot follow God because of illness, disease, mental problems and many other hindrances. It is people like these who need others around them to help them. We need to carry such people to the Lord in prayer and action.

(Mt 9: 1) – Some people carry a paralytic man to the Lord through the roof. Carrying a paralytic man requires bodily strength. You need to be humble to ask permission from the owner of the house to open the roof. It requires planning. We too are called to carry people to God. We too are called for the salvation of the others. Just like we don’t know who are these people who carried the paralytic (Family, neighbors, friends), we may not get the credit of saving a soul in this world, but our reward would be great in heaven. Am I that person called to intercede for others?

6. There are other people who are shy, fearful, ashamed of themselves or too conscious of their deficiencies. They do not come forward to showcase their talents for the glory of God. The Lord himself calls such people (Mk 3:1) to come forward. When such a calling occurs, do not hold back but totally surrender to the Lord. Am I that person? Can I hear his voice?

WHAT KIND OF PERSON ARE YOU?

English or Inglsh?

The ten years of English grammar in school and the cute teachers ( never ever understood why all the English teachers were chic lasses) inculcated in me the basic love for the language. But with the 'Facebook' era and the SMS lingo, times have changed. Grammar and spellings have gone down the recycle bin while 'awsum kwick use of lang' rules.

Just the other day, I was playing Scrabble with my kid brother, and to my utter amazement, he cracks a jackpot (and the widest smile displaying the perfect result of the Closeup commercial) by scoring a triple word point on the word lol. No amount of arguments or persuasion could lead him to change his mind that lol is actually a word. He flashed his cellphone to display a text from his topper friend who had used that 'awsum' (as he put it) winning word in his message.

There was this other instance when my friend came up to me asking if I could facebook his pictures and also tag and poke him. Imagine if my mother hears this conversation!! Poke??!! She'd seriously think her daughter is gone out of hand. How ironic that the one website that can cause us to ignore our valued books is called FACEBOOK. There was a time when tweet referred to the sound of a bird. Oh!! How times change!

I guess Oxford and Harvard are closely watching, for they may be in business soon for printing new dictionaries. Maybe, Mr. Kapil Sibbal is closely watching, since it could give him the credit of pioneering new English textbooks in the curriculum.