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.

Dogs are pests, not pets!!!

Oh! How I cannot stand dogs!! But try as I might they still cross paths with me.
I woke up today morning praising God for a wonderful day. As I opened the door, to my utter dismay, I see three pairs of what used to be shoes but now were total garbage and a disgusting four legged pest chewing at my beloved beauties. Shooing it also did not help.But the damage was done. Three pairs of classy beautiful shoes bitten to shreds of leather. Oh! How I hate dogs and how I curse Maneka Gandhi. I had one mind to post that leather to her and demand for compensation. Maybe I would have made headlines and gotten a li'l publicity.

My neighbourhood is swarming with these dirty pests. We do not own or keep dogs but that does not prevent those monsters from coming into my territory to terrorise me. Why can't the owners tie them up in their own courtyards? If this had happened in the UK, I could sue the owners and buy maybe ten dozen of brands. But here in India, law does not only favour the rich, but also the dogs. My mum decided to complain to the owners, but hell, we need to find out who they are. But as the Bible says, " Do not throw your pearls before dogs, they will only turn and attack you". It's better we keep quiet. After all Maneka Gandhi and her followers (there are I believe 99% of dog lovers in this world) might just get a morcha to our door.

Aunv Berpatkar!!I see no evil!! I hear all evil!

Aunv Berpatkar!!I see no evil!! I hear all evil! What others do I do not question? Hence I do not stand against evil. So what do I do? I come out in large numbers to express solidarity. To what? Evil. Why should I? Money breathes. Money talks. Money power.

As a minute strand of the so called now famous kingdom of Betalbatim, I am pained at the happenings around me. Now whether you have 5 Gobi Fries (read GF) or 10, I do not care. But if one of them you eat, and then you deny and then you are poof, you do a magic act, I am not going to clap my hands and applaud. I rather stick to the FIFA for entertainment, than listen to a sorry tale about a person who 'b'eat a Gobi Fry.

I may be a Berpatkar. Just maybe you do the best charity in the world. Maybe charity to Berpatkars comes with a price of speech. But I am not dumb, neither am I deaf or blind.

Poked and pinched for being a passive Berpatkar against a mighty active one. But where do I stand. Where's the justice. When mighty strong, famous people are involved whether they just ogle at others Gobi Fries or snatch and eat them, or the Gobi Fries themselves are enticed to their plates, its just two or three months of gossip for Goans and then its over. When we needed to stand against SEZ or when asked to attend the gram sabha meetings, how many Berpatkars join in solidarity to stand against injustice. But you are ready to come out in large numbers to express solidarity for some person who does charity. Shame on you. No wonder being a Goan is not a big thing anymore.

I am ashamed. I am ashamed that I am a part of you. I am ashamed of being a Berpatkar.

Yahoooooo: I've been hacked

What a privilege my brother said! Someone thought you are special enough to hack your account. But I could not agree. Someone posing as me and asking for money.....maybe he is reading me right now....so scary....but yet so true.

Here's the gist. Someone posed as me and asked a friend of mine for 1500 pounds. Can you believe that? That's nearly four times my monthly salary ( yea, I am on the poorer side). Luckily our friend called us to confirm else who knows which lawsuit we would have to deal with.

I've been told that I am not the only privileged one. Many of my students and friends using yahoo have faced similar experiences. So a word of caution to all yahoo email holders, beware, there's a hacker around.

Should we really hang Kasab???

I'm sure I would get a million people looking quizzically at me after reading the title (though I know my blog does not even attract 0.1% of that). But just imagine Bhagat Singh and many of our freedom fighters received the death sentence and were hanged. Hanging Kasab would be like honouring him for his war on our country.

There would be people arguing that hanging Kasab would be a warning to other terrorists of the consequences of their actions. But logically the young minds who get swayed into terrorism and other deadly acts come prepared that they have to die for the sake of their religion so killing them would only set a precedent to other terrorists that them dying would give them jannat whether it is through bullets or through the noose. So I think our legal system should come up with an alternative punishment to deter young minds from swaying to terrorism.

A train accident or a flight crash kills hundreds of people, but how many times do we hang the culprits. If killing 166 people was a crime, I think terrorising a nation by killing 166 people was the king all of crimes. And if death through the noose is the ultimate punishment for a crime, I think the king of all crimes should get a much deadlier punishment. Death is so easy. Poof and you are gone relieved from a lifetime of troubles, pain, sufferings. Kasab will probably have the last laugh if he is hanged.

I believe he deserves a much deadlier punishment than death.....I would have put him a mental asylum, I would have asked him to stay with each victim's family for a year serving them....but then again if there was remorse. With no remorse, what can be the best punishment????

Cattle Class and Austerity

The newspapers these days have been hounded by reports of austerity by our beloved politicians. Whether its moving out of 5-star hotels or traveling by economy class. Austerity seems to be the word of the day. I am quite surprised that after years of democracy, austerity seems to have been a recently added word in their dictionary. Now I believe recession has truly set in. Austerity has nothing to do with feelings towards the people, or empathizing, but with cost cutting. Probably they'd like to spend a little less from the government coffers so that they can fill their pockets for a rainy day. Maybe, quite maybe.

Imagine if everyone from politicians to actors to business tycoons decide to travel economy class. I am sure it would definitely be renamed to cattle class but definitely the high end ones and prices of which the common man could never afford. I am sure Mr. Tharoor would be grinning.

Imagine yourself sharing a seat with Mukesh Ambani in a train from Virar to CST. You'd probably be short of conversation, only stumped. Or what if the finance minister decides to dine at your favourite roadside gaddo, you better have a list of grievances ready. Or just maybe you are given a lift home by Daddy Cool, Saif Ali Khan on a Bajaj Scooter. I am sure you'd be holding him tight.

I'm not against austerity, but definitely against it alongside publicity. Guess the media hounds have nothing better to report.

What about the cattle class remarks, you may ask? Oh come on, for those who've traveled in airplanes, no one would disagree to Mr. Tharoor's remarks. In fact, the private buses plying in Goa are no different. If your railway ministers having a waiting tickets issued, which allows you to travel, obviously you'd be herded in as cattle in a train as well. Go Mr. Tharoor go, cattle class is definitely in.

Influence can buy you your life??

In our country, doctors and nurses are viewed as a reincarnation of God and the medical profession is one of the most noble. However, an experience I had yesterday has put me in doubt.

My neighbor had a blood pressure drop and was unconscious for nearly an hour. Getting a doctor to see a patient at home is very difficult and considering it's a Sunday, made the task quite hurricane. Finally we managed to get a kind doctor Oscar from the village who was on his way to Panjim but took an u-turn and came back to Betalbatim to see her. Getting her to consciousness through garlic and burnt cloth smells was a jolt to reality. The doctor having given the first aid asked to admit her to the government hospital as soon as possible. Having taken her there, I was told there are no beds available in casualty to treat her and she'd have to wait till there is a vacant slot. Old that she was, she could not even hold her head still while sitting and waiting till we get a vacant bed in casualty. Better sense prevailed and I called back Dr Oscar explaining the situation. He immediately made a call to the doctor inside and only then did the nurses relent to let her in. If influence and power could save lives, no wonder the poor and lower class are dying in pain.

On one side there was a Dr. Oscar who took a u-turn and came back to treat a patient, called up nearly four-five times to ensure everything was alright while on the other there are doctors and nurses who need phone calls from higher ups to bring them back to reality. I sometimes wonder what would have happened had Dr. Oscar too turned the other way.

I sometimes feel that I did a mistake not having taken the medical seat I had qualified for ( I chose to study engineering ), and in times like this my mistake seems quite grave.

What's in a name?

The legendary Shakespeare once said "Whats in a name?". Today many years down the line one of India's most prestigious entrepreneur proved it right, perfectly right! India's fourth largest IT company built on lies, and fraud contrary to its name - Satyam! But in fact what great source to lead to the downhall - Maytas, the reverse and the opposite of Satyam - the truth.

This puts a question mark on the running of the other biggies in the IT industry. I really don't know about the others, but would definitely not like to put Infosys in the same list. I consider NRN to be my idol and can't see him in the same light as what was done and become of Raju.

Having had seen him from close for two years during my stint with Infosys, I have only heard the best of anecdotes about him whether from his colleagues, his personal staff or the housekeeping staff of his office. With him as a leader in Infosys, even be it non executive I strongly believe he has set a legacy for Infosys with a strong value set to emulate.

I do not know how many people would read this article, neither do I consider myself significant enough whose opinion can be valued, but I'd still like to say Infosys is definitely a company to look up to. The values we have learnt are what makes us different!! Not just the name, afterall!

Yahoo!!! I won!!!

Yes, two days ago I won an essay competition organized for the youth of villages around the Benaulim constituency. Now how many participants did I defeat you may ask. None! Shocked?? I was too when I landed at the Visionaries counter to find myself as the only contestant. Even with such effective marketing as prominent banners advertising the venue, date and time, our opinioned youngsters did not have the time to make it to an event which would have probably contributed to their own development.

I've read innumerable blogs, posts, articles in newspapers by the youth of our state that we need to wake up, stand for our rights, blaming the government about their inaction and so on. But words those are. The time for action may never come. It is all so easy to criticize the government, blame the terrorists, right strong words of condemnation against this and that act, but ask them to meet and come down to congregate for a purpose and no one wants to walk that distance. Its all happy and gay as long as I have to move my fingers over the keyboard to write my opinion on blogs from the confines of my home. But come down in scorching heat to make a difference and no ones there. But the silver lining was definitely to see a crowd of little kids taking part in the painting competition. Guess they are heat resistant. Probably I am generalizing a small set of the Benaulim constituency to the entire state or maybe the country. Probably I am wrong. But where is the proof!!

Khana No Khazana

In a bid to pump my efforts on finding the eluding proton, my mother keeps coercing me to improve my culinary skills. 'The way to a man's heart is through his stomach' she quips. What a glutton!!!! Not that I am a bad cook. I consider myself a very experienced cook considering the full-on appetizing and taste bud churning (unfortunately - the wrong way) experiences I've had while trying my hand at the heart rendering dishes.

However, keeping in mind the new age stomach cancer, diabetes, cholesterol and the age old obesity, I'd rather stick to the direct Kismat Connection than go maneuver through the Paapi Peth. What if he's the Calendar Khaana do types. I'll be languishing in the confines. There goes my world tour! Down the food tube!!

Raj or Taj - What's our inspiration?

As I read an SMS from a friend about the starkingly obvious absence of MNS chief Raj Thakeray after the Mumbai attacks, I was struck by a thunder bolting thought.

Raj and The Taj!!! Apart from the phonetic similarities in their names, there seemed to be a few more things in common in the idealogies of the two. Probably their complete dislike for the British agenda. While Raj and the Shiv Sena promote the Marathi manoos bandwagon by changing colonial British names to Indian ( Victoria Terminus to Chatrapati Shivaji Terminus, Bombay to Mumbai), the Taj was built as a result of Jamshedji Tata being deprived the luxury of staying in Watson Hotel, as it was restricted to whites.

But the similarities end there.

While Raj stands for divisive politics dividing the Indian mindset into the North and Maharashtra, the Taj stands for unity as an Indian entity as people from all states, religion, caste, gender and in fact from differennt nations, stood by each other, saved lives risking their own.

While Raj remained silent after the terror attacks, the Taj spoke of its tears, its sorrow, its pain and its triumph.

While Raj stands for fear and destruction, the Taj is a beacon of hope and fearlessness that we will conquer terrorism come what may.

Viva Portugal

I was reading the blog of my long lost classmate, when I realised how true his wish of Portuguese rule in Goa was ( Refer Viva Portugal ). Our once beautiful state is being marred by a change in infrastructure, a change in demographics, corruption and shoddy politics. What with the likes of the Monserrates, Ranes and Pachecos who are filling their already overflowing coffers with the bounty destined for the people of the state.

A complete wipe off of the Portuguese culture seems to be on the rise with an influx of migrants. I understand being an undivided nation, an Indian has the freedom of moving from one state to another and I am probably contradicting my earlier posts on the great North Indian - Marathi divide. However, I do believe that Goa is in a league of its own and should be given special status considering its rich and unique culture. A Portuguese rule would not only have brought in development but also maintained the once hyped about beauty of out homeland. The vandalism of idols and churches would not have occurred so closer to home and we'd probably be living in a mini paradise of our own. But what else can we do now. It's just wishful thinking!!!

Say No to Mumbai attacks!

What's the point I say of murder and killing?
What's the point I say of bloodshed
Innocent lives you hurt
Your own young lives you ruin
In the name of religion, caste and creed.

Mumbai is burning today
Not just of the Mujahideen attacks
It still feels the pain
Of the MNS' personal vain
Why use guns when the mighty pen works

Feel free to add more in your comments! We need to weed out terrorism and crime in any form, for any motive.

Idiot Box! Where art thou?

"Ekta Kapoor ka Kkkkkasam Se, KKKyunki..., ya KKahani..
Saloni ke Saath Phere, ya Sanjeevani ke doctors saare
Kabhi din the ki hum kosthe the unhein
Ab do hafton se kahan gaye pyaare"

There were days that were never complete without a touch of the rona dhona and husna husana of the saas bahu soaps and glamour and controversies of reality shows. The nearly two week long strike has imposed a compulsory saabatical on the daily dose of millions of Indians around the world. Not that there is a dearth of quality work on the idiot box. In fact, the idiot box should be renamed 'coz the no show of serials had definitely helped it lose the adjective as people are shifting to news, sports and foreign documentaries.

I would have never have known who invented television in its crude form if not for this strike. Coz' it coerced me to research on the history of the medium and I strongly believe that Paul Gottlieb Nipkow would not have had the faintest idea of the craze he created decades ago. Not that I am against the so called dulhans and bahuranis of television. I'd definitely like to see a change in perspective to a more real and closer look at the society and its depiction on television. The closest to it is Ballika Vadhu on Colors, while the reality shows are complete showdown. Their unwarranted tears and drama do make for a delightful sight, however none of it ever makes an impact to stay.

The recent ratings surges of news, sports and foreign channels is definitely a short span indicator. The strike end may be just a few days away and we'll be back to the rona dhona as if none of it ever happened!

I was Born Intelligent, Education Ruined Me.

I am in a room with twenty seven faces scribbling on a sheet of paper. A moment that could define their future while for me yet another boring day as a lecturer. Having done an MBA from an international school had had no meaning and in fact barrelled me down in a professional heap.

But for these 20 year olds, it is the beinning. They could evolve to become CEOs and Presidents. The world is their footstool but for what they write in those sheets of paper. Our educational system has been reduced to just these sheets of paper. All we do is give exams and grade and consequently be graded. Our lives are just now numbers - 90%, 40% and so on. It does not matter whether you are intelligent or brain dead, as long as you can gobble up texts and vomit them on paper, you are deemed a star,

We forget to learn from history. Geniuses are not born through examinations. Albert Einstein, Bill Gates, Thomas Edison and the like were not products of universities. They were common men who who worked hard through their own calibre and determination and whose names nations will remember. My paper degree would only go to dust. But you 20year olds scribbling on paper still have a chance, wake up!

From my Diary!

A road less trodden
Paths unsung
Are life's ways
As I can see
Though millions have walked
Ahead or gone past me

On life's journey
I am but alone
People come and go
Though crowded I may be
Yet at the end of it all
I will be judged
For the ways that I called