2 films and lost sleep

Being a journalist has its fringe benefits. Watched two films yesterday screened as part of the Dubai International Film Festival at the Mall of the Emirates, Dubai. “The Wrestler,” starring Mickey Rourke, was quite good. The story about a professional wrestler Randy and the struggles and trauma he faces. He suffers a heart attack after a show and is forced to work in a grocery to pay bills. His estranged daughter refuses to accept him. His stripper girl friend plays truant. The doctor warns him against ever thinking to wrestling again. But at the last scene…now you watch the movie lest I take away the suspense. Mickey does his role quite well, and some scenes in the film were not for innocent teens like me (Though I enjoyed it, don’t tell anyone).

So after the movie, we rushed to the food court, gulped a “biryani” and returned to “watched” the next movie called “Appaloosa.”

This film starring Ed Harris and Viggo Mortensen is about two law-enforcers in a western town dominated by rancher Bragg (Jeremy Irons). The rural setting had a cowboy shade. Believe what I say. The stupid audience did not allow me to take a nap as most of them were snoring loudly.

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.

The German connection

Famous blogger Fida was surprised when I used a German word. I love Germans. Tried to learn the language in Chennai's Max Mueller Bhavan two decades ago, but failed miserably. Had an opportunity to visit Hamburg as part of an international journalists team allowed to watch the World Cup Soccer match between Ukraine and Italy two years ago.
The entire city wore a festive look and it was a great time, which I
will never forget in my life. The way I made friends, especially with the pretty German girls, made some of my counterparts from Africa, Australia, New Zealand and India turn green with envy (joking dear). "Guten Morgan" was good enough to start a conversation. But once they started speaking in German, I fumbled and confessed I din't know the language. Of course, I always finished off with a smile and a "Vielen Danke." (Dunno whether spelt right!)
This particular fatty German girl at a railway station asked me to
click a photograph with her colleague. Their faces decorated with flag
paintings, the duo looked awesome. Back in Dubai, I did post the
photograph as requested by her to the address she mentioned, but till
today there has been no acknowledgement. Long live that pretty girl.
Four of us (we became great friends – thanks Paul, Anita, Venu - of
Australia, Malaysia, India) planned to take a train ride and decided
to go to the "Chocolate" city of Lubeck. Interestingly, I bumped on a
private museum run by a German gentleman with his Indian wife. She was kind enough to prepare some South Indian dish, (Dosa. Have you heard of it? May be I will ask my wife to post a recipe of this!!)
At the end of the journey, the handsome Australian editor-friend
commented jovially: "You are a funny guy."
"Fun-loving guy," I corrected.

Not childlike, but childish

The cute little boy and girl were hiding under the staircase when I
entered my building. With a tense look, they signalled me to move on
and I did so politely. After taking a few steps, I turned back to
see another man entering through the door.
"Baaahhhhh," the children screamed at him.
"Ooofff..," the man acted as if he had been ripped apart by fear. Typical innocence writ large on their face, the children ran with glee and laughter.
My mobile tone interrupted my thoughts. "I will be at your home in 10
minutes," declared my nephew.
"Why not play the joke on him?" I told myself.
Eight minutes must have gone by.
Klinggg…the door bell rang.
The corridor lights were off. I saw through the door peep hole “my nephew” with a bag. Well, my nephew must have brought some gift pocket! Wow.
I clutched the door bar and with a sudden jerk screamed bahhhh…
The man threw the plastic cover in his hands and out went sugar and
rice, spilling all over the corridor.
What's wrong with you? he yelled. The grocery delivery man.

Rain and pain

Through my glass window not protected by curtains, lightning flashed on my eyes around midnight. The rumbling thunder made me uneasy. Winter has returned to Sharjah. But what made me roll around restlessly on the bed was the growling in my stomach. I had been trying out a new restaurant for the past two days, and it proved a costly experiment. Turn right, left, upside down – nahi, nein, la (no in Hindi, German and Arabic), nothing worked. At around 1am, I managed to get up and gulp two digene tablets..and like blogger-friend Lori who prays for single parents, I prayed for married bachelors forced to fend for themselves. Dunno when sleep embraced me, but the alarm at 6.30am was promptly put off and I slept until 9am.

Foul etiquette

In this modern age, it is surprising that certain people lack even basic civic sense. A sneezing friend recently came so close to my face that I had to run for my life. On several occasions, people nearby used to run helter skelter when he started coughing.
I remember how I was witnessing a soccer match holding a Pepsi glass in my hand. An acquaintance sitting next to me often grabbed the glass whispering “Just one sip please.” I was so embarrassed I had to give the entire glass to him after some time.
I am very sensitive about the use of my own handkerchief. The other day a relative visited home, took permission and entered the wash room. He was back in a minute after splashing water on his face. And without any hesitation, he grabbed my handkerchief placed on the table and wiped his face, thoroughly. Let your imagination run riot on how he would have done this. After he left, I had to discard the piece.
A female colleague gifted me a nice black cap lying that I looked like Shah Rukh Khan when I wore it. As soon as I entered the office wearing that, a coworker picked it up from my head, wore it and flashed a smile. That he was sweating profusely is another matter. You guessed it right. I just gifted the cap to him and walked off.

Praying for peace

The Mumbai wound is deep this time and hence taking time to heal. But heal it will. And that's for sure.Mumbai is a city of love and affection where visitors are treated as "devas" (godly). It makes me sad that tourists, besides the local people, fell to the bullets of evil-doers. "Can't superpower-aspirant India handle a dirty dozen?" is the question posed by some people to me on the streets. I have no answer for now. Let the stupid politicians finish talking. Time will answer this question. But about one thing I am thoroughly convinced: Never in history has evil won over goodness.