Author: binny22

An active blogger, a debutant Novelist , a passionate poet who loves to travel is what could sum me up. I love the internet and all that is connected to computers. I love to explore new areas of knowledge though I may not accept every piece of information.

Masking Emotions….but Living Anyway…..


Some time back I had mentioned that we are never the same person at all times. Time and tide are ruthless and they carve and cut and grind us, to mould us into a shape which they think fits into the universe. The innocence and faith of a ten year old is not there when you are twenty five. So at ten, you are one individual and another at twenty five; for that matter I am not the same person I was a moment ago! So then what is the reason for my existence? Is it that I am just a cog in the huge universal machinery? Am I just a cold piece of iron cast to fulfill the needs of time? Do I have my use and then be thrown away like a used plastic bag?
I am confusing my metaphors here! I am strong as iron and resilient as plastic and like both, my feelings are not to be taken into account! Feelings, emotions and sensitivity are supposedly “human” weaknesses, and I have no right to indulge in them.
At what age was it that I learnt that it is not “nice” to cry in public or to show any kind of weakness? I don’t remember; it was supposedly a sissy behaviour. Having studied a part of my life in missionary schools I was taught all about the British “stiff upper lip” and till date I hate to express my pain in public (this includes my family!) 
Running away from pain has become a habit with me. Like the ostrich I bury my head in the sand, very sure that if I ignore something it will go away! Alas! This does works once in a while but most of the time the problem confronts me head on like Medusa’s snakes! The more you cut them the stronger and more potent they grow.
It was raining heavily, the little sparrow, bedraggled, shivered on the balcony. It was a girl sparrow (Did not have the black bib) and she chirped in utter misery; must have been hungry and cold. I wondered how to help it and threw a few crumbs of food, but she looked at it suspiciously and flew away… the rain was very heavy she came back again sidling on the banister and looked longingly at the food… I watched fascinated… she was joined by another sparrow (a boy- had a bib you see!) and slowly both hopped down unto the dry balcony and pecked at the crumbs; then they huddles together in a dry corner …hopefully safe…In times of darkness you need someone to hold the candle.
Once at a party, I was asked “what would you grab if your house was on fire?” and I instantly without thinking said “nothing”. When I analyze this response now, I realize that even then I knew that material things have no value, they are like the iron and the plastic- they have their use but they have to be trashed at some point in time! They can also be replaced pretty easily….
The cold fingers of the mist swamped my senses and I shivered both out of fear and cold. The black rolling clouds came forward ushered by the thunder and lightning. The wonderful valley below me was obscured from my vision in seconds. Is it possible that a safe comfortable life be shattered in seconds without warning?
Two young people- too impatient to wait for the light to change ran across the high speed traffic and in seconds were no more. What a waste of youth, energy and life! Yet life without risk is so sedate and boring! Man is a gambler but an intelligent gambler and so he rules; the day he crosses the road a second early he will be no more. But what about safe players like me? Well! We may continue to exist but it will be a vegetable existence-eat-sleep-eat!
Most of us muddle our way through life. We do as circumstances dictate us to. It’s only the lucky few that write their own destinies. But the truth is we are all dispensable and the small footprints that we leave behind will soon be erased by the timeless sea!   
The curving road below me shows a stream of red lights on one side and a stream of white lights on the other side… the red going away and the white coming towards me – continuous and unreeling. White for peace and red for danger (or is it anger?); is this a signal telling me that nothing lasts forever and I can trash my danger and buy myself some peace?

Hermetically Sealed?


Once upon a time lived a young hermit; His whole day was spent on contemplating the greatness of God. He appreciated each part of the day as we would appreciate a framed painting; he smelt the fragrance of nature at different times of the day and wallowed in it; he tasted the fruits and savoured each taste –salt, sour, sweet et al; he heard the sound of the gurgling stream, the song of the birds, the cacophony of the hawks and the crows, the rustling of the leaves, the patter of the raindrops , the whoosh of the wind….; he touched the velvet softness of the new grass, the rough scales  of the tree bark, the downy feathers of the birds  and the furs of animals. 
He was happy or so he thought… After years of spending such a wonderful life he thought he would venture out into the world and answer the many questions that always troubled his mind. He always saw many creatures of the same kind but never saw any of his kind and this disturbed him. He did know that God made him but why did he leave him on this lovely place? He wondered whether his reason for existence was purely to enjoy or did it have some other hidden quest?  He always noticed that everyone was busy eating, searching for food looking after their off- springs, protecting their home but he did none of these. His life was pure blissful joy. No responsibilities or onus rested on him!
He began his quest for knowledge with a minimum of baggage. He had a stout stick and the clothes he wore and a sickle to cut any fruits for his food. He walked for many days and reached a mountain pass. He looked down at the valley below and took deep breaths of the beautiful panorama spread below him. He saw huts and houses and well manicured fields and smoke spires coming from the roof tops of the huts. The sun was setting and the whole valley was bathed in its golden glow. He felt a sense of infinite happiness suffusing his soul and he almost ran down to this lovely place.
He was hungry as he entered the limits of the little village. He saw lovely ripe fruits hanging on the trees and he reached up and plucked the fruit and bit into it. The owner of the orchard came running out and gave him a whack and jabbered at him. He was stunned! He did not understand what was it that confronted him; here was a creature of his kind yet he behaved like he did not know him. He gestured telling him in his own tongue that he was hungry and needed the fruit. This made the owner furious and he dragged him to the centre of the village. 
I don’t think I need to tell you what ensued! The process of law and justice went into full swing and the poor man was thrown into a locked cell. The trauma and pain and anguish the man went through were unimaginable. He who did not know what pain was- was being subjected to it with the whole gamut of negative emotions. He felt the pain as a baby does when he cuts his first tooth!
Did he venture further into the new world? Did he go on in spite of all the pain? Did he find what he had set out to? Are a set of questions that I leave you to answer. If you were him what would you have done? 
Knowledge, any kind of it always brings pain. That’s the rule of nature. Because knowledge brings awareness and awareness is the acceptance of something which is alien to us at that moment.  It’s like falling down because we did not walk properly or like burning our finger because we did not know that fire burns.
Should we then stick to our own Utopia and be happy and satisfied with what we have? This is a personal question and each of us has our own personal answers. I have met many people in the course of my vagrant life who have felt sorry for me-as I have not stayed in the place that I was born in. They seem so happy and settled that I have been envious of them (Especially when I was a child). 
My position is almost an antithesis of the hermit. I have always lived surrounded by knowledge and the itch that it brings along with it! But I have my own similarities with him too. I have been satisfied and content with my desire for knowledge not for personal gain but for its sake alone.
I am at a point in my life where I have left time far behind and the only thing in front is a jumble of roads all seemingly impassable – yet I must battle through them. The question is which of the thorny roads I must cut through to reach my goal of Moksha! Is my fate as imprisoned as that of the hermit in the story or shall I or can I let a few bacteria enter into my cosmos?

Monkey Capers!

Yikes! I shut the bedroom door with a bang. I had effectively locked myself and my two year old daughter inside the guest bedroom. We were on the fourth floor of the apartment and the only way out was through the window which was unfortunately barred! Remember there were no cell phones those days. To access the phone for help I needed to go to the living room….. There were two beds in the room and my sewing machine. I knew it was a matter of minutes before the baby would be hungry and I didn’t even have a bar of chocolate with me. If I hollered for help no one would hear me, so I waited….
Both of us were terrified, I because I knew what was there and Chiqui because she didn’t know what was there! We could hear the pots and pans being thrown down and cupboards being opened and shut- I shuddered … Chiqui was so terrified that she forgot to be hungry! After what seemed like eons (actually it was a mere ten minutes!) there was silence; I waited for another five looooong minutes before I cautiously opened the door  and peered out – the cushions of the sofa were strewn all over the carpet and the balcony door was open. I carried Chiqui with me hoping to escape from the main door which was wide open too and tiptoed out, but the silence followed me.
I found the biscuit packet intact, gave it to the baby, put her in our bedroom (This had been untouched) and latched it. Brave me! Then I went creeping towards the kitchen- what a mess! I looked everywhere and realised that the miscreant had disappeared. Like shutting the stable doors after the horses had bolted, I swiftly rushed around and closed all the balcony doors and my main door too and released Chiqui from the bedroom!
The little devil had overturned the flour from its bin; scattered the sugar all over the floor; all the masala bottles had either been smashed or strewn all over! The kitchen floor was resplendent with all hues red, yellow, white, brown and what not! The fellow had opened the refrigerator and eaten all the eggs neatly but had spread the shells very aesthetically. I was in tears that day and my poor baby couldn’t understand what the problem was – for her it was a lovely mess!
My parents had told me that when I was few months old I had been put on the seat of the open jeep for a moment, outside a temple. I believe a monkey came from somewhere and was in the process of carrying me off when my father saw this and bribed the monkey to give me back in exchange of a few bananas (See my worth!).
Whenever I have gone to the zoos, temples or tourist spots they have troubled me. Either they run at me with teeth bared or they want whatever I am eating or they just give me funny looks! I remember one of them stole my bottle of Coke and drank it (I was very thirsty but too scared to do anything!)
I have numerous stories of the atrocities they have committed on me! But there have been exceptions….
In college I had a friend who had this habit of going to the Hanuman temple in Delhi every Tuesday and Saturday. She was in a different college; I was in the north campus and she was in the south campus, so we used to meet at this temple which was right in the center of Delhi, near Connaught Place. I followed her around mimicking whatever rituals she performed. Like all Hanuman temples this one was filled with monkeys. The strangest thing was they never troubled me, they did ignore me but they never came near me. 
After this small dedication to the Monkey God for a period of five years my ape friends have left me alone. But a big “but” is whenever the God wants me to visit him, he send his missionaries to remind me that it’s high time I visit him again. I make it a point to do so. I visit him whenever I go to any temple. I even have a small idol of him at home. He is at peace and so am I!
By the way I love bananas!

Affaire de Heart

Hi Bloggy!  it’s been a long while that I have spoken to you. I have been kind of busy with this and that! Being disciplined is a difficult task and when I get a chance, like the river, I meander in the easiest path possible…

I had been to visit my beloved mountains; I was resuming my affaire de heart after quite a long gap. I have always had a long distance relationship – I go for holidays to the mountains but I live either in the plains or near the sea! I have talked of this before but would like to reiterate that going up, literally gives me a kind of high which no wine or rum can! 
Anyone who knows me should consciously or unconsciously realise that I am the happiest when I am alone with and in the mountains. Have you just tried to walk on the roads in the mountains with the clouds swarming around you like an affectionate kitten? Have you felt the clean, clear breeze wrapping you in its freshness? Have you tried to just sit down on a bench overlooking a cliff and breathing in all that beauty spread before you?
As I grow older and I know I have a limited time before me I want to cram myself with all the knowledge possible( I wish I had done this in school!) I want to know and question, to know history, philosophy and to some extent science. I know my limitations though – I can never understand finance (I do know how to spend money!) So my trip gave a lot of insight into all these subjects but when I reflect on the holiday, the best part was when I stood on the cliff savouring the scenes unfolding- the clouds raced below me giving me glimpses of a real world in an unreal setting.
Photographs are wonderful catalysts to jogging ones memory but it can never capture those emotions which you felt at that moment. Something is better than nothing, one does appreciate the snaps years later but for me it’s like a body without a soul! I depend on my fading memories!
Human beings are unique. We are all the same physically and we have survived all these years due to the fact that we adapt to nature (sometimes change nature to suit us).
I wonder how people can live on pasta and pizza. Once I used to love these but now I appreciate the variety in Indian food. Of course my diet is restricted in the western countries as I do not eat beef or pork. By the time we came back to al Qahira we headed straight to an Indian restaurant!
 I must tell you that I experience religion in a different way. Being Indian I am unconsciously secular. I am not an atheist but I am not an active follower of my religion either. By chance I am in a country where religion is an important part of the daily life and by chance I had the opportunity to visit the most important city for Catholics.
 I have this habit of closing my eyes and searching to be one with the maker in all the temples I visit and I have always found that this oneness is possible in lesser known temples. I had no expectations when I visited the Vatican, I knew it would be a city with beautiful building with priceless works of art but I had no expectations.
We went with Valentina like school children gathering knowledge as if we needed to face an exam on our return! We moved from one beautiful interior to another gazing with awe at the works of the great artists. Then of course the magnificence of the St. Peter’s basilica took my breath away and I looked at the alters ready to take me in but being pre-judgemental I never even tried to find my maker here and I think I missed out. 
It was much later in a little known church in Sienna, amidst all the people, that I saw the light and I know that here is what I was seeking. The Universe had come to meet me here as it had in a number of places and I felt the calm and the peace that I am constantly searching for.
I have stated that I am not a religious person and so I do not name my God according to a particular religion. For me the consciousness that we exist as body less entities is what my religion and Universe is all about. Like a drug addict, every once in a while I need to inject myself with similar experiences to keep myself going! Sometimes I get such horrendous withdrawal symptoms that I dig myself a pit where I wallow till I get my ‘fix’.

I have got my ‘dose ‘for the time being and my soul soars with the confidence and strength of my beliefs and all is all right with my world. Amidst the chaos of the whole world- riots, markets collapsing, terrorists- I am still able to smile and look down at the waves crashing against the rocks, knowing that soon all shall be well…

House of Cards


The escalators worked continuously. So many pairs of feet standing, moving and impatiently tapping; Technology is God! Here, there are a million people tramping up and down the metallic moving staircase and no one is tired- imagine going up four floors and down again in minutes and none the worse for it!
Thousands of miles away people all over the world glued to their respective receptors- the space shuttle blasts off- ten, nine, eight…..; technology is almighty.
Millions of packages wrapped faultlessly and effortlessly in minutes; Science is supreme.
Small incisions into the tiny body removing extras, repairing – micro surgery; Science is the life giver!
What am I doing here? Writing an essay on the glory of science?
Not exactly, only trying not to take things for granted. Remember the Japan Quake/ Tsunami not too  far back in the past, the volcano in Iceland spewing so much smoke that the whole of Europe was affected and who can forget the fury of the monsoon in India…  the various cyclones and tornadoes (Though I feel its mean to name them after girls- so sexist!)
The Human race is great (The twenty first century is the century of the egoist) everywhere you turn you see the brilliance of mankind and if you don’t see it then it’s drummed through your head via the media!
The sky darkened into a lovely steel gray colour; the wind picked up speed ; the date palms swayed dangerously; people picked up their collars and bent their head battling the wind, all feet toward home; the waves crashed on the concrete path (man -made) and the rain started pelting down in sheets and nothing was visible. The wind moaned, almost a sound of the dirge permeated the sub conscious and the electricity went off! –running here and there storing water (in case the supply is not restored and there is no water!) checking for match box and candles and waiting…..  Thank God for gas at least there was fire to make tea! Or should I say Thank Man!  Then the hail began and the desire to go out in the rain was great but the old and the wise never give in to childish impulses! 

Slowly after nature had vented her fury and the electricity supply was resumed and the gifts of man came back in full force. The Television camera swept over the Corniche to show the devastated concrete pathways – tons of concrete swept away and broken and overturned with effortless ease! It must have taken months to build that – building the blocks; transporting them here and then setting them to build the path and in seconds nothing… like a Hindi poem says “Pani ke bulbule” (bubbles of water).

Man has tamed and used the furies of nature but once in a while she rebels and like a cornered animal springs back and attacks! What an attack it is – the tamer is scratched and bloodied, wounded and scarred and sometimes annihilated and only time can heal the blemishes. 

Only when you stand alone on a rocky crag looking and listening to the sea or alone on top of a mountain and feel  the force of the wind do you realize what a puny thing Man is and yet… Yet this has not stopped us from trying to conquer Nature and  the fear of the unknown. Who knows maybe in the future (We are only about 5000 years old- still quite young!) we can tame this shrew and use her potentials to our betterment?

Science has helped us a lot but like all medicines it has its side effects. The day we find a medicine which is effective yet affect-less will we win this battle with nature, will we be able to coexist in peace and find the perfect equation of cause and effect. 

While this epic battle goes on for eons, it doesn’t help that we have small snakes in our Eden who use this fledgling power of science to destroy the beginnings of a great civilizations and ape Nature’s fury to bring down years of toil and hard work for their personal gains. Man has come this far because of working together. No project can be successful without the help of others- be it marriage or building a house or a factory! But the Snake is selfish it lives for itself and thus the years of strategy and planning go down like a house of cards with a small breeze of terrorism and a group of people are happy- not knowing that they are cutting off their nose to spite their own face!

We have been taught from childhood that every aspect of life has a good and bad side; history has made this very clear to us. The greatest invention will be when something is created which is completely positive and the yin and the yang merge and  the  beam of the balance of life is always in a straight line and then, only then will my house of cards stand up to the storms of the Universe.

At The Helm!


I was very proud when I got my driving license at the ripe age of eighteen.  I was proud because I got it through the right channels, with a proper test and not by bribing (Like most of my friends did!). Dad’s red Maruti van was my first car (though I learnt on an ambassador car!)  Delhi had beautiful roads and the traffic in those days was disciplined so I had a good time driving for myself and was ready to take anyone out!
Being a girl had its advantages too. I remember I once jumped a red light and the traffic cop caught me. I put on a sad face and spun some story and he let me off without punching my license! Soon after my cousin brother was caught doing the same thing but he had a big punch on the card! How triumphant I had felt that day.
Much later when I got married and we scraped and saved and bought a car, we used to love to go on road trips sharing the driving (I was normally given the nice roads to drive on!). The concept of keeping a driver had never entered our mind. But life changes and the Husband got a great posting with a car and a driver as a perk and we soon came to accept this as a part of our life. (Though I continued to have my own car and we went on road trips without the driver!)
Our first driver – Reddy was very aristocratic- he never got out to open doors for us or gave a smile. He always had a pained expression of putting up with us! He was much richer than us. He owned two houses; we didn’t even have one, neither could we dream of owning one with our bank balance! Soon he left us and after a few forgettable apprentices Srinivasan came into our lives…
He was perfect. Always a smile, a good morning or evening, always ready to open the doors. Never allowed me to get out on a traffic filled road till he got out and opened the door. The seat belt always on; every free time was spent polishing the car; the children were looked after so well that I never worried if he was around. I was spoiled rotten for four years. I loved being driven by him everywhere.
We were transferred to Mumbai- the great city of dreams, only to have each and every dream of mine being shattered! The whole house searching was a terrible nightmare (I could write a whole book on that!) The maid situation was even worse but that’s another tale!
Jay Kumar was the hero who entered our lives. He always “Bhabi this and Bhabi that” to me! Getting used to that from “Madam” was a little difficult but it was OK (anyway there was a lot of adjustments going on). He was a typical immigrant from Bihar;  thin as a beanpole; wore tight jeans; ate gutkha; and put his own Hindi song cassettes (The hubby never liked that!). He wasn’t too bad, only thing was that Srinivasan had spoilt all of us! He drove erratically (Bombay style); he told me all the gossip of Bipasha Basu (She lived in the same apartment as ours) and John Abraham, which I was never interested in anyway. He ultimately drove all of us mad and we decided to change him.
 We had a series of drivers after that – in fact one was just like Srinivasan (in looks that is!) dark and rotund- that’s where all the comparison ended- where was the politeness? Where was the trust? Where was the care??????  He was dirty had all kinds of skin disease and all the time sleeping!  We had three more after this all of them would take some advance and disappear! After the third time this happened we decided not to keep any and thus started a whole series of driving experiences for me. I learnt how to navigate the Mumbai roads (Cursing most of the time!) two years passed by in no time at all and it was time to shift to a new house (Shifting houses is another story!)
The new house was nicely placed with a good, large parking space (Parking spaces are also another story!) Living on the eighteenth floor was heaven. But a driver was required and we got a nice one too almost perfect- almost Srinivasan! But he was star struck and a TV personality who stayed in the same apartment stole him away (I never watched any of his shows after that!) We got the last of our drivers in Mumbai (almost ten in a span of three years- some record!)
Vijay was a typically Marathi driver- thin and small; full of his own importance; well behaved (Not the door opening kinds but beggars cannot be choosers!); helpful (would carry bags if they were heavy). He drove like the Mumbaites – inch his way through at red lights; overtake anyone and everyone; curse the auto-rickshaw drivers; bribe the policemen (with our money!)And stole petrol for his mobike! So he was sacked just before we left the city (he went and complained to the police about this!)
Those three years of excruciating experience has given way to some calm and peace on this front. We now have two wonderful wheel controllers! Who are not only well behaved but are happy with whatever they are doing and never ask for advances!
They are almost like Srinivasan! Only they are neither portly nor dark and they do not share their joys and sorrows. Without an international driving license I am at their mercy……

Girl with the Green Eyes


The small black kitten was purring in happiness on the lap of the young girl. Its eyes were screwed tightly with pleasure. Hearing the thud of my heavy footsteps it opened its eyes to look at me enquiringly. The bright green eyes opened suddenly and in my imagination it was a witch’s cat! I continued on my quest to lose the excess baggage that I had put on in the last year! The sea was thunderous and even with the music in my ears I could still hear the angry but beautiful waves crashing against the concrete piles on the shore.
I reached my target distance and turned back the same way that I had come and paused at the “kitten place” The kitten was nowhere around but the young girl (around thirteen or fourteen maybe) was setting up a corn stall. She was wearing a long frock over a pair of jeans. Her head was covered with a hijab as is normal in this part of the world. Her head was bowed in concentration… setting up the pile of coals to smoulder over which she would roast the corn and offer it to the passerby. Her cart was a rough wooden one – a flat piece of wood balanced on a few rocks. On one side was the pile of corns and the other side held the smouldering coals which she was fanning vigorously. She saw I was looking curiously at her and thinking maybe I was a prospective customer she looked up and I was floored! The beauty of the startling green eyes almost made me stumble- they were clear and bright and what was strange was she had dark skin- normally one does not associate green eyes with dark skin!
Egypt, like India has a mixture of races and you see all kind of colour combinations here and all kinds of features. But there are too many races- you have a mixture of Greek, European, Arabic and African features but normally the colours remain true- that is a fair person may have different coloured eyes and hair and a dark person has the black or brown eyes and hair but this girl was startling. I wish I could have taken a picture and put it up (remember the National Geographic cover of an Afghan girl?) but I didn’t know whether she or her guardian would object so I went on mulling over the strange combination of features and colours.
The next day again she was there. She gave me half a smile of recognition. The smell of roasting corn wafted by and almost tempted me to stop and pick one up from her. What stopped me was the fact that here they do not add salt and lime like they do in India (and of course the calories!) After this I saw her regularly and smiled at her. She was always kneeling down on the rough concrete tending to her cart quietly. I never saw an adult near her or any friends who came to meet her. Her customers were few as they were more sophisticated gleaming stainless steel carts offering more hygienic corns around and naturally people flocked there! In fact I thought I would give her a pound just like that or pretend to buy a corn and then throw it away later on but I never did!
I used to go on this same track for a walk about six months ago and it used to be pristine – the path was always swept clean, there were no vendors allowed here and only people who loved to walk or to exercise could be seen trundling to and fro. But now the path looked like Juhu or Chowpatty in Mumbai. It was filled with people specially couples who hid behind rocks. The vendors were scattered here and there, shouting and advertising there fares. The path was littered with coke cans and chips packets with only a harassed janitor trying to collect the trash as fast as he could! The tea vendors washing the cups from broken plastic buckets and throwing the water on the path (You were lucky if one such throw did not hit you!)
Fortunately the sea here was too rough to swim otherwise it would be filled with families who put up two chairs and an umbrella wherever they felt like and made it their private place! The Corniche extends for about thirty two kilometers – why take away a mile of this beautiful stretch to indulge in commercial activities? I wonder where those young people are who had vowed that they would keep Egypt clean after the revolution (remember they painted the sidewalks and the wall so it would look beautiful)
Coming back to my girl with the green eyes I wondered how much she made each day to make it worth her while to spend hours on this path waiting for a few pounds. Does she go to school? (It is holidays for all the schools now) Is she trying to make pocket money? Giving up her friends and play time. Or is she just trying to survive? Or what…?  Is this what freedom is all about to be able to earn at the cost of childhood? Freedom should be a beautiful and peaceful feeling – maybe this young girl could be used as an icon of freedom- her beauty and serenity is captivating to say the least. I just wish I dared to speak to her and lead her away from what she thinks is right (I am not sure about that) to bring her to what I think is right (But I am not free you see!)

The clock struck one and the mouse ran down…


            The water lay in a stagnant pool on the rough stairway. It was eerily silent except for the faraway noise of a drill being worked. When I looked down the stairwell I felt giddy but irritation and anger made me totter down on my formal heels. I stomped down muttering profanities to myself and at the feminine voice over the telephone who had informed me that the lift would not work for another one hour and I had a meeting to attend in exactly ten minutes!

The day had begun normally – a busy early morning and a lazy late morning heading towards a sleepy afternoon. I had just fallen deep into my nap when the in-house phone woke me up.  A cultured English- speaking feminine voice informed me that the lift would not be working for an hour. I looked at the clock and saw it was two thirty. Even after giving allowance for delays I decided that it should be working by four thirty at the latest when Mickey would be back from school and I would have to leave for my meeting at five fifteen. So I very politely thanked the voice for informing me (although my beautiful sleep was gone now!) and went back to laze on the bed appreciating the beauty of the blue Mediterranean.
Post tea it was a disaster! The daughter phoned to say she would be late as she was editing a project! She was (I believe strongly) supposed to tell the driver to come and pick me up and later bring her back home but she thought I was supposed to do so and hence no message was sent to him! Meanwhile I was ready, dot at five o’clock and gave my usual call to the driver to bring the car up.
“But Madam”, he exclaimed “I am still at school, waiting for Mickey!”
I asked him to wait – called up the volatile teenager and asked for an explanation. Much good it did though! I was stuck! So there I was- back to calling up the driver and wheedling with him to come and pick me up in ten minutes. He very gallantly promised to do so and can you believe it he was here in ten minutes. So what was the problem you may ask? 
I was ready with my purse (I checked to see whether the door keys, money and cell were there and the file with all the relevant papers were there too) I smartly pulled the door close behind me and went up a few steps to access the lift. I saw no lights on the two lifts and I hurried to the service lift which was equally dead! My brain did an about turn I rushed back into the house and called up the reception demanding an explanation- after two false conversations (One said that he would be sending someone in ten minutes! How he would send is a mystery I have yet to solve! The second said the plumber would soon be coming, again why I would need a plumber when I needed to go down unless he would help me shin down a drain pipe is a dark puzzle) Ultimately the feminine voice who believes that she knows English well came on line…
“Madam, I cannot send the plumber now as the lift is not working. “she said soothingly,”I will do so after an hour when the lift has started working.”
It is an understatement to say that I spluttered, I was boiling with rage and only my very good manners stopped me from yelling down the phone. It was five twenty by now. I very quietly reminded her that she had said the lift would be working by three thirty and it was now five thirty. I needed to attend an important meeting.
“Madam”, she continued, “Why don’t you walk down the stairs?”
“Do you realize that I live on the twenty first floor”, I replied with dangerous calm
“Yes I do” was the rejoinder
I burst out then and banged the phone down for good measure and started down the stairs…
It was already five thirty. I phoned to inform the secretary that I would be late. She herself was stuck in a traffic jam … (The whole world was jammed!)
I started on my expedition…  as I went down I kept looking at the numbers on the floor (all in Arabic, I thanked God I had learnt them) and went on and on. Twenty, nineteen, eighteen…… and so on My anger fueled me and I kept on I reached seven and after that it was worse the steps were very rough , the walls were damp ; after the fifteenth floor I had started holding the railings for support so my hand s were filthy black (as bad as my mood!)  
Then I lost track of time and space; I tried an exit door just to see that it was welded shut- I panicked!  On the next floor I found a door open and I went on to it to find it was under construction, there was a lone guard there but he was offering his evening prayers so I came out and back and down the stairs. The floor numbers had disappeared only the sign “emergency exit” was there. I was worried- what if I never came out, would I have to climb back up? What if I died of suffocation or claustrophobia or whatever? 
At last I pushed open a door to enter the marbled precinct of the first floor lift area and met my lift man who murmured an apology. I did not have the energy to even glare at him; I continued stomping off towards the car and sat down thankfully and cleaned my grimy hands as well as I could. I did not miss the meeting as an unprecedented number of people had been delayed for a various number of reasons. (As if all our stars had got together and schemed to make us late!)
That evening as I nursed my bruised ego ( strangely  my legs were not paining) and related all this to my unsympathetic spouse, I realized that this has happened with me once in all the high rise apartments I have stayed in. First time I lived on the eighteenth floor I had to walk down because Mickey was a little girl and she would be scared to come up or wait down when the lift was not working, the next time was only a month back when we were on the tenth floor and I had again to go down (the tenth floor wasn’t too bad) and now I have conquered the Everest by going down twenty one floors!
But as I write all this down my old muscles are protesting…

Silent Contentment


 While going through my blog spots it suddenly hit me that I am becoming too didactic…..  You know sort of preaching about good and bad, right and wrong and left and right et al and that’s too bad! (There I go again!)……
Today I went through a bout of misery both mental and physical and when I was able to ride the crest of this wave of desolation successfully I went out on the windy balcony and meditated on the busy traffic on the road by the sea. Have you ever tried it? It’s really very soothing to a battle-fatigued mind. There was a lot of noise too – hum of the traffic, ambulance sirens, horns blowing and the general sound of living but it was kind of like soft music and I basked in the warm sun with the cold wind whipping my hair around my face.
The sea was breathtakingly beautiful and as the clouds chased each other across the sky it changed its colours as fast as a chameleon and this washed away the anxiety of a tightly stressed mind and I felt cleansed. Even above the din of human existence I could hear the roar of the sea and as usual it took me for a personal ride and I was there poised as a ballerina is before her flight- on my toes! Would I be able to take off? Would I be able to shake off the dew drops on my wings to soar into the unknown? I am being selfish today to talk so in riddles! But I do hope these are riddles which all of us face and each one of us has one unique answer to them  and thus in the long run I am helping you to come to grips with reality by asking my personal questions which could be your personal questions! (Is it getting worse?)… These questions speak of discontentment.
The sudden shriek of a child cut across all my musings. I looked down at the source of the sound and saw a little boy wanting to be picked up by his mother.  She looked tired, she was obviously poor as she was trying to sell tissues at the traffic crossing and this little one was taxing her to pick him up. The traffic started moving and she backed off up on the foot path dragging the wailing child with her. She plopped down on the hard stone and from within the folds of her voluminous gown, produced a biscuit packet and thrust it at the child who took it and threw it at the traffic going past! He wanted love but was offered sustenance and being a child had the honesty to throw what he didn’t want. How many of us have the guts to throw away material gain in face of demanding for something as inane as love! His mother realised this and hugged him to her bosom and he was silent…. The silence spoke of contentment.

I smiled to myself at this picture and looked up at the blinding sun and a cloud covered it – to allow me to open my blind eyes…  sweeping my eyes at the vast panorama of small cameos that were being played a little way down my viewing stand, I felt the noise of life encompassing me all round. One friend who had recently visited me had commented that she wouldn’t like to stay in this quiet area as she needed to know that people were around her when she went out and if the sound got too much she could close the windows and be all alone! Is that what was biting me today? There was a lot of clamour but it seemed as if it was far away as if I was floating in space and looking down at earth…  This solitariness spoke of imprisonment.
The mad man who always ran to open the door of the car when I went out in the hope of a few pounds was rushing here and there doing the same thing for other people- helping the drivers to park their car in the narrow road opening doors for the passengers and taking the small tips with a smile and a “thank you”. Idly watching him I wondered what had driven him mad (If he was actually mad!) was it poverty? Was it love? Or was it his DNA? Whatever it was he was existing and that is what life is all about! (Again being didactic!) … This madness spoke of freedom.
Today as I sign off I crave for a silence of contentment and the madness of freedom. I am for a change, bereft of any words of advice, for today I need a light to show my path….

Lost and found…..


Rows upon rows of aisles! Very few people around but the anxious eyes sought every row and column looking for a tall thin man and his short little wife.  They would stand out as they are Indians but not a sign of them!  Desperate eyes pushing the filled trolley hoping against hope to find them soon. Two phone calls for moral support to hubby dear only to get calm logical advice which actually does not help in the face of panic! People had started looking curiously to see this lady going round in circles. “Calm down! Where would they have gone, not too far away”, said the ever practical mind but the panic stricken heart gave all sorts of arguments to nullify them.  After paying at the counter (still looking everywhere for a glimpse!)  The lady walked out and saw them waiting outside! Oh the relief!  As the tension ebbed out she could hardly stand on her feet but then life was on an even keel and the day went forward……
How the tables have turned! One day I was a little girl and they would be feeling the same thing that I felt that day!  Some decades ago they would have gone through the gamut of emotions which I went through that day! It’s good to have them around to show them that they have been successful in bringing up a responsible human being, to show them that they have been able to lead someone onto the right path.  Middle age is a strange platform, on one hand you are still leading a generation toward the right path and on the other you are helping another generation to kick the stones on their path and to smooth the kinks on the path of both the generation!
Someone said that love always goes downwards but I would beg to differ; I believe love is like the rays of the sun. It goes in all direction and is all encompassing. Giving light and heat and breathing life into the gloomiest of environments.  A great sage had said that you can reach ultimate happiness only when you leave behind all the attachments of the world. When you successfully cut the threads of “Maya” can you reach heaven said the ascetics of yore. Is happiness sitting in a temperature controlled environment and contemplating the beauty of nature (or heaven)? Does happiness exist without any problems, sadness or pain? Is happiness a state of mind where there is nothingness?  If it is then I think I will commit a few sins so that I do not go to heaven! I can come back, be reborn so that I can experience the rainbow palette of emotions, go through pain so that I appreciate pleasure. I do not want to be so good that I am bored with goodness.
What I want to ask is if I have reached the end of the road what do I do? The pleasure of having a goal is the journey towards it, not the destination! As a traveller I have picked up nuggets on my path of life sometimes they have been smooth and cool and sometimes they have been hot and sharp but the pleasure of knowing them and feeling them have been equally satisfying! When I look back there have been forks on the roads and a tinge of regret for “the road not taken” but definitely unhappiness has never shrouded me due to decisions. Every mistake I have made in life has taught me a lesson and I would not have it otherwise. 
I have met many people who get pleasure in pointing out that had you done that you would have been on a different plane (Mostly on a plane where a supposedly successful person is!) Yes possibly but would it have made me happy is the question. Happiness is an overrated emotion and I do know that there can be no pleasure if there is no pain and there can be no beauty if there is no ugliness. If you think happiness is equal to pleasure, beauty and goodness then I really think you should rethink your philosophy and do a little soul searching so that it’s not too late to achieve what you set out to! After all to itch also give relief, happiness and pleasure.