Noblesse Oblige Award

Feel highly honoured to receive this award from great friends, Priyanka Khot and Vinisha. Thanks Vini, Priya. Dedicating the award to each and every visitor of this blog and all fellow-bloggers.

Boiling milk, heated temper

Saturday is my weekly off day. The day I enjoy most. Cleaning up the mess at home, catching up with friends..well, lots to do. So see you tomorrow, but temme, is there a way I can boil milk for coffee and yet see to it that it does not spill over. And this isn't the first time. Should the damn mobile buzz only when I place the milk on the stove? You stupid Murphy, wait for the day I catch you by your collar and turn your law upside down...

Stirred and shaken

Can washing machines wash off our joy at times?
Yes, they can, if the users tend to be a bit careless.
The story goes like this. I was recently presented a new dress by my wife.
And imagine how well your handsome friend (of course, me. Why you laughing, silly?) would have looked with this dark blue jeans and a white shirt. I went around Dubai and Sharjah thinking all pretty girls had set their sights on me. I know, I know, no one did, except that cross-eyed camel, now are you happy?
I forgot to tell you that I have this nasty habit of reading newspapers in the washroom. And I had placed a newspaper above the washing machine before moving off to office. My wife, meanwhile, picked up the dress along with some the expensive ones of my relatives (eh, some consolation) and put it in the washing machine. Only she did not realize that she had added the newspaper along with the clothes.
You should see the condition of the garments after the newsprint wash.
Hey, an idea: Why don't you try this wonderful experiment and feel how I feel.
PS: This is not the first time. My sister cleverly put my spectacles into the machine along with my clothes on an earlier occasion.

Never give up

The global crunch is indeed giving a punch to Dubai and the job market is badly bruised.
Hit by this negative thought, I put on the Bond movie “For your eyes only.”
Believe me, one particular line boosted my spirit.
Goes like this. The hero and heroine are trapped. Seems like no way out. The heroine says: “I did not think it would end like this.”
And Roger Moore’s reply: “WE ARE NOT DEAD YET.”
Ooof, it literally shook me out of my negative thoughts. Never say die, until actually dead. Miles to go. And the weapon we will wield throughout is hard work and a smile, what say?

Happy Pongal

Here’s wishing Tamilians, global Indians and global citizens a great and happy Pongal.
Thai Pongal (Tamil: தைப்பொங்கல்) is a harvest festival equivalent to a thanksgiving event celebrated by Tamils across the world. Pongal in Tamil means "boiling over or spill over." The act of boiling over of milk in the clay pot is considered to denote future prosperity for the family. On January 2008, the Tamilnadu Government anounced that Pongal will be celebrated as 'Tamil New Year' from 2009 CE (Declaration Bill 2008).

Observed by Tamils

Significance: Harvest festival. Thanking Nature for prosperity
Date First day of "Thai" in the Tamil calendar
2009
date 14 January
Celebrations Feasting, gift-giving, visiting temples and homes
(Thanks: Wikipedia)
Have a great New Year, folks.

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?

Night life in Mumbai

Mumbai is a dynamic city that pumps up people’s enthusiasm. Working as a Chief Sub-Editor of The Times of India, VT, and traveling late back home to Navi Mumbai brought lots of interesting experiences. I am talking about the late 90s. There was one last train to Vashi at 12.49am. As our office was bang opp VT station, we could reach in a minute by just crossing the road. But on many occasions, me and my desk colleagues, missed the train. The option was to reach Dadar by train and hitchhike to Vashi. Truck, car, share-taxi anything was ok for us to reach dear home. One day we stopped an ambulance. I clearly remember how me and a colleague BM reluctantly entered the vehicle and thanked the driver who reached us home and not the hospital.
At one time, stray dogs were a nightmare. I just came out of Vashi railway station and the road was deserted. I saw a boy walking ahead of me and ran to join him thinking that dogs will spare groups. It was then that I saw him holding his blood-soaked wrist. He had been bitten by a dog. I advised him to rush to the local civic hospital, but he said he would go home and take somebody with him.
A colleague SB was once surrounded by a dozen dogs. Wondering what to do, he started screaming: “Arre bhai, koi hai? Bachaoo.” (anybody there, save me.) With no one to be seen around, he started singing Bollywood songs loudly thinking the dogs would spare him. Thankfully, he managed to reach home unscathed.
A good friend from Economic Times IB was a sincere companion. He used to joke, only 3 Ps are to be seen on the roads at such late hours: Press, Police and Prostitutes.
Hitchhiking experiences were interesting too. Let’s wait for a day or two.