Enough With The Margarine, Let's Use Oil Instead

Last month, auto rickshaws across Mumbai were on strike for a couple of days, leaving us with no option other than to travel in the BEST buses. I was entirely frustrated over the thought of waiting endlessly in a serpentine queue for the golden opportunity to travel in an overcrowded bus. Imagine my surprise when an unfilled double decker bus arrived at my stop, within minutes of waiting in the line and reached me home in an equally less amount of time. To add to my surprise was the fact that I could not, for the life of me, remember the last time I had regularly travelled by a bus.

I think it was during my college days when I used to travel by this service on a daily basis. I had no other choice. My parents gave me pocket-money of Rs300/- each month, with which I had to manage all my expenses except the cost of a second class monthly railway pass. Everything else had to fit into that meager allowance which I received. Not only did I manage to fit in all my expenses within this budget, but I also saved a little every month to spend during my birthday. So I managed travelling to college, snacks, birthday gifts, outings everything in just Rs300/-. Could even fit in a weekly bite at McDonalds within this amount.

Today, with that amount, I would not even be able to survive till mid-week. I mean, inflation is at its highest, we have to keep up with times.

But I wonder, is it inflation affecting my expenses or is it me?. Travelling by bus is an option I have long since given up. Its only auto rickshaws, A/c buses, first class railway coaches, A/c cars which I deem fit to travel in. Leave alone the travelling; there are the other so very important expenses on eating out, movies, shopping, fuel, extravagant gifts etc. We feel we are justified. We work so hard, 5-6 days in a week; we can afford to pamper ourselves.

Then comes the global recession or the economic slowdown or the credit crunch - call it whatever you like. Everyone is stumped and baffled, not knowing how to cope with the job cuts, the slack in bonuses and promotions, reduction in the size of the inflated pay packets. Everyone around backtracks, cost cutting measures are being dished out, celebrations are low-key, malls are less crowded, Diwali is less noisy, buses are used more often than autos. And suddenly, Rs300/- does not seem that small an amount.

Marie Antoinette was once famously accused of saying about the residents of Paris that were hungry, that if they had no bread "let them eat cake".
Well, if she were alive today, she would have said "Enough with the margarine, let's use oil instead"

Sorry Jhumpa, I Chose The Prada!

A couple of days back, I was alone at home, enjoying this movie ‘The Devil Wears Prada’ on one of the Star Channels. All of a sudden, there was an electricity breakdown in the area and in a second, everything around was pitch black. Really irritated over the electricity being cut off, just in the midst of the movie, I waited for some time in hope of it getting restored. Fifteen minutes passed and with still no sign of any power supply being restored, I decided not to storm heavens for this petty issue and save my prayers for matters slightly more important than not being able to watch a movie.

So I strolled into the verandah and perched myself on the stack of chairs there. The view has always been awesome from my 6th floor house which is equivalent to the 10th floor actually, considering the hill and the stilts on which the building proudly stands. It had actually been months since I had spent time in this quaint little area of my house. It’s something I can do only when my mom is not there – she freaks out when she sees me in the verandah. The poor woman is obsessed with the fact that some evil spirit will overcome me and make me jump from there. Little does she know that I am the evil spirit that can make others jump to their death.

Anyways, as the time passed, I realized I was enjoying just sitting there. I had nothing to do, no care in the world, no deadlines to meet, no trains or guys to chase. It was so peaceful, calm and serene, not to mention the cool wind giving me some respite from the October heat.

All of a sudden, I started thinking about this short story ‘A Temporary Matter’ – in Jhumpa Lahiri’s novel “Interpreter of Maladies”. It’s about this couple who are straying away but an electricity failure, in their vicinity, for a couple of days brings them closer together.

So, I thought to myself, that maybe this power failure in my house could change something in my life. I might get inspired to write an article on the beauty I find in the urban jungle that surrounds me. Or maybe, learn the importance of spending more time in such a serene calm environment. I might even decide to keep aside some time after work for meditation and yoga. Oh yes, this situation had really opened up a world of options for me to improve my life.

Just as I was settling down to decide on how to use this opportunity to enhance my life, Eureka – the power was restored, the lights came on and with that the television. So I now had an option of sitting there, meditating in the calmness of the windy night with nature’s beauty enveloping me and turn a single moment into a wonderful experience in my life.

Or I could resume watching the movie.

Well, I’m ashamed to say, I chose the latter. Yes, Meryl Streep and Anne Hathaway won the toss over calmness and serenity. Maybe that’s why they call it the idiot box. It has this conniving way of attracting the illogical part of the grey matter in my head.

Sorry Jhumpa, I hadn’t envisaged that Reliance energy would be that efficient and quick in restoring its services or that David Frankel would magnetize me with such a lovely rendition of the original novel.

So much for all the hoping and planning for some sensational development in my life as a result of an electricity breakdown. Guess I still have a long way to go to fulfill my self-actualization needs.

My Collection Of Bloopers

Mum was telling me about her company annual get together coming up and I realised that's it's gonna be a year since the biggest blooper in my life so far. And I still got friends like Smita continuously asking me to repeat the story and laughing their guts out. So well, that got me thinking of the other bloopers in my life and realised I had enough to give Mr. Bean a complex. So why not put them down and give everyone a good laugh - I mean 'Laughter is the best medicine' - right

Eighth standard - Sitting with Sherin in the school hall for mass and got cramps in my leg. Got up to receive Holy Communion and fell down in the middle of the hall, in front of all the catholic girls. Sherin was more embarrassed than me. After that, every day, a girl in school would look at me and say 'Girlie, girlie, weren't you the one who had that fall in the hall?'
Tenth standard - Overnight colony picnic at Gorai. It was way into the night and I was sitting on the wall of Henriques shack with Olivia, while Eddie stood on the rocks below. Decided it was a good time to pick a fight with my brother and voila, the next thing I knew, I landed on the rocks below. I blanked out for a few seconds and woke up to hear my brother's voice 'Rochu, rochu, do you still remember me....' My uncle, Fr Edwin, is sure they built a well there as a result of the impact!!!
College days -
- Bunked college to go for a movie, running at Sterling, with Preeti and Vanessa. The train reached Churchgate station and we girls were so busy chatting that we didn't realise at all and sat in the train till it started proceeding back towards Borivali !!! Icing on the cake was me asking another woman in the compartment - 'This train goes only till Marine Lines station, kya?' I won’t get into the details of how the poor thing started giving us juvenile girls directions on how to reach Churchgate.
- Developed this crazy fondness for the tweety bird, in all sizes and shapes, toothbrush holder, tiffin box etc etc. So i was gifted this curio of a tweety bird with a transparent suction holder at the other end, to affix on glass. Since there was no glass around, I stuck it to my forehead and started goofing around. When I removed it after an hour, I realised a white mark in the shape of a circle had formed on my forehead - it remained there for a week.
Youth group - We were organising a contest of some sort for the parish youth and I was given the job of gift wrapping prizes. Some of the prizes were books and I spent around an hour wrapping them in gift paper. It was only when Eddie and Fr Magi burst out laughing that I realised that instead of gift wrapping the books, I was covering them - like you cover school books - in gift wrapping paper.
2004 - The year I bought my car and took it for choir practice. I was still a learner and pretty raw and nervous while driving. Yoko from my choir was busy drawing some characters on the windshield of my car, inspite of my repeated requests to move away, while I reversed from the parking lot. Anyways, I thought she moved a bit and reversed the car, when suddenly I heard her scream. I immediately braked, her screams reached a higher pitch (she is a soprano in my choir) - Why - I had stopped the car bang on her right foot. Ouch
2007 - Alwyn placed an order for a bath tub and when it arrived, it was not fitting in his bath room. It was the shop keeper's fault for taking the wrong measurements, but he was not taking it back. So I decided to help out and posed as a journalist sitting in my car, outside the shop, while Alwyn threatened the shop keeper about reporting the incident to the press. I then started clicking snaps from within my car - it really scared the shop keeper, but I didn’t realise that some old youth group friends of mine were staying in the flat above the shop and started wondering why I was clicking snaps of the shop below them. I had to drive away before they started calling out my name! Btw, the shop keeper did take the bath tub back.
Blooper of Bloopers - Accompanied mom to her company annual thanksgiving mass and lunch. Was sitting with my mom's cousin and her family and enjoying a thick almost frozen slice of malai kulfi. Since the chill was a bit too much to bear, I was keeping the rectangular spoon in my mouth for few seconds, till the kulfi reached room temperature, and then proceeded to gulp it down. Everything was going fine for the first few morsels, after which - here we go - the spoon got stuck to the upper palette of my mouth. (Oh God, Smita, stop laughing). Yup, the spoon got stuck there and remained there for a good ten mins. So I was running between the hall and the toilet with a spoon half stuck in my mouth. People thought that I came up with a new game and was playing it all alone. After my mom, my aunt, other well wishers had their initial laughs and realised this was serious business, they all took their chances at pulling the spoon out, not realising there was tender skin at the other end. My agony ended, thanks to an experienced nurse, who didn’t look half as surprised as the others around. I think she's encountered many antique pieces like me who get spoons stuck to their mouth.

Well, I’m sure this is not the end of it. As Ozzie rightfully says, I’m prone to disasters. Scraped my wrists on a rusty bridge at national park last month, fell down on my mossy building slope within a week after that. Today, as I write this article, my right ankle is swollen and wrapped in crape bandage - I really don’t know how and when I twisted it. This morning, as Smita and I got out of the bus, I realised the kurta I was wearing had a hole in it - no idea when or where I managed to tear it. The last time I managed to tear my clothes was while travelling with Vrinda and Brynelle in an auto rickshaw and I tried to jump out from the side blocked by the steel rod.
So yes, I am adding 'Collecting Bloopers' to my list of hobbies. You can keep watching this space to find out which new ones I add in the coming days.

For Our Tomorrow, A Little Peace

I love Mumbai with all my heart. Been here for twenty years, love this city and it’s never dying spirit. I may grumble about its traffic and the pollution and the filth, but that does not mean I love this city any less. This year, I even toyed with the thoughts of spending one day like a true Mumbaikar, join my fellow Catholics at Mount Mary Bandra on Sunday morning, break fast with the Muslims at Mohammed Ali Road in the evening and end the day with the Ganapati Visarjan at Chowpatty beach. But the way things turned out this last weekend, my happy patriotic thoughts turned into those of anger and depression.

I learned about the blasts at New Delhi on Saturday evening and immediately contacted my friends there to make sure they were ok. The same way I had contacted my cousins in Bangalore and my office colleague at Ahmedabad during the previous blasts. Luckily, all were safe. But for how long – how long more would we escape unscathed from the atrocities happening all around. What about that family in Delhi which lost 11 people in the blasts or that woman in Ahmedabad who lost her husband and son, outside the hospital. What about those 30 people who died in my very own Borivali during the train blasts three years back? They were not so lucky, not lucky like me. Which city will be hit next?

Smita and I went to Mount Mary on Sunday and the place was swarming with hundreds and thousands of people. We found it difficult to even step into the church without getting tossed around. Later in the day, I watched on television as thousands of people embarked onto the various immersion points for the Ganapati Visarjan. This, despite the bomb blasts that happened just the previous day. It’s like people were immune to the events that were happening around them. It’s become a part of life. Heavy rains can bring Mumbai to a standstill but not bomb blasts. It was so scary, so terrifying, the city was on high alert and one third of its people were out on the roads, ready targets for any attack. All I could do was pray, pray for the safety of all those who were at the Mount and at the various immersion points – pray that they get back safely to their families.

And then the worst news ever – Churches all across Mangalore were attacked on Sunday. My first thoughts were of Samantha – she was studying and staying in a catholic hostel right there. This time too I was lucky – she was safe and sound. Relatives of other friends in Mangalore were also unhurt, though terribly shaken up. We were barely over the atrocities in Orissa and now this – so much closer to home. When will this end – where will they attack us next – Goa, Mumbai? I mean, it was a Sunday; people must have been going to Church, just like we did. Going about their peaceful Sunday routines and from nowhere you’re attacked. Innocent people being killed, for no fault of theirs.

No moral of the story to give this time, I don’t have any. Just few words of a song I learned in school

Just like a flower when winter begins, just like a candle blown out in the wind,
Just like a bird that can no longer fly, I’m feeling that way sometimes.
And then when I’m flying way down by the low, I picture a line at the end of the row,
And closing my eyes I can see through the dark, a dream that is in my heart.

A little loving, a little giving,

to build a dream for the world we live in.
A little patience and understanding,
For our tomorrow – A little peace.

A little sunshine, a sea of gladness,

to wash away all the tears of sadness.
A little hoping, a little grace
For our tomorrow – A little peace.

Ever Wonder What You Are Worth

It’s been two months in my new job and it’s been an exhilarating and a new learning experience every day. I recall the most important thing I learned which is very applicable out of office also.

I’m handling setting up of processes for the most premium niche of customers of the bank. The crème de la crème basically. To adhere to their extraordinary demands, I have to make demands likewise from supporting units in the bank which sometimes feels unrealistic and unfair to me. I discussed this with a colleague of mine and will never forget what he told me
‘If you feel your customers are not worth it, everyone else will also feel the same. And if you believe they are worth it, you can demand the sky and no one can refuse you’

It all lies in what you believe and the world will believe the same.

We grow up with a very positive self esteem, I know I did. Our parents make us believe we are the best, nothing is unachievable, no one is better. So we set standards for ourselves because we believe we deserve the best.
Somewhere through life, we start compromising. Due to family, jobs, peer pressures, others’ beliefs in what we are or what we are not capable of, we change our perception of ourselves and start lowering our expectations from life. We aim for or settle for less than the better. We believe the best is not for us but for someone else and so the world also accepts that.

We reduce our own worth in front of the world. We choose not to give ourselves the best that is out there.

If you look at a child, they feel they deserve the moon and will go ahead and ask for it. My one year old nephew knows no boundaries, no pain, no fear, and no limits. He is all over the place, climbing over all the furniture, talking on our mobiles, getting into our cupboards and our clothes. To him, he is worthy of everything. Demands everything and we usually give into him – Why – because he won’t give up till he gets what he wants.

Let’s all become kids again. Believe we are the best and proclaim it to the world out there. Throw tantrums till we get what we want.

Because no one deserves it more than us. We are the Best. We are worth the best.

Mobile Sans The Mobile

A couple of close friends would time and again berate me over my obsession with my mobile phone. Always in the palm of my hand, I had to answer calls immediately, even on holidays, even from unknown callers. Had to reply asap to each and every sms, which was never in brief.

Then, I happened to read this article in the Reader's Digest - June 08 issue. It quotes a saying by Edward Hallowell, MD, author of CrazyBusy “Technology is allowing us to do things we’ve never been able to do, and it’s positively incredible. The downsides are that it’s addictive and you can become tied to it in ways that are exhausting. It further goes on to list ‘8 Tips to Fight Info Overload’, the second tip states ‘TAKE BABY STEPS - Try being inaccessible for short spurts to see what happens. The world probably won’t implode’.

Well, if the article and my friends' advice did not change me, the Mumbai monsoons surely did. I was determined to continue with my daily routine of a 40 minutes walk, irrespective of rain, thunder or lightning. The solution was a full length raincoat and suitable footwear to brave the weather. But what about my mobile - no one has yet invented a 'waterproof suit for mobiles’. So how would I manage my walks without the risk of it getting drenched?

Well, at first I thought I would protect it in the shelter of the cute raincoat pockets, soon realising that water did seep in there. Neither did my jogging tracks have any pockets.

Well, im sure, if I racked my brains for a while longer, I would have come upon a perfect solution, but suddenly I thought to myself, why not just leave the mobile at home, instead of going to all this trouble. It's just 40 mins and though I consider myself quite an important person, im realistic enough to know that this earth would not stop spinning around its axis if I was not contactable for 40 mins.

So, that's what I did. I took the first baby step.

It was awkward on the first day, especially for the palm of my right hand. It felt empty without it's soul mate, so I introduced it to a new partner - my house keys. But apart from my palm feeling a pang of separation anxiety, I never really missed the mobile or missed out on anything. It was infact a great feeling. Being one with nature, taking brisk walks in the rain, jumping into little puddles, yes, I still do that. And knowing that no phone call or sms or alarm or reminder was going to interrupt me. I was completely to myself.
Well, I did always have a couple of missed calls awaiting me when I returned home, but nothing urgent or in the arena of a 'life or death' situation. I think the most important missed call I’ve gotten so far was from mom, informing me that a close friend was admitted in hospital. But that was it. Sad right, you think you are so important and so indispensable and so need to be accessible to the entire world at all times, and it’s your mobile that brings you back to ground reality.
I’m glad I marooned myself from my mobile, even just for a little time each day. Will continue doing so even after the monsoon season ends.

I actually felt more mobile and free, without the mobile.

Wanna know how it feels - well, you know what to do....

Frankness v/s Opinionated

I like people who are frank, who are always honest, speak the truth, tell you things the way they are. These people are very dependable and act like a true mirror. They don’t play games, twist the truth or sugar coat facts. It’s a quality I admire because it’s something I lack. Im the queen of sugar coating, always trying to soften the blow.

Often though, frankness gets mixed with being opinionated. There is a thin line between both actually. For example, calling a spade a spade is being frank. Telling a spade that you feel they are behaving like an axe is being opinionated. What you're saying if your opinion of that person, its not gospel truth. It's the way you see things.

People need to be frank all the time. People don’t need to be opinionated all the time. The ones doing it feel they are doing a favour to the ones at the receiving end by being 'frank' about their 'opinion' but that's not the case. They are actually just getting stuff off their own chest, something they need to do for their own mental health.

Telling someone (based on evidence, of course) that their better half is cheating on them and that they are better off without the cheat, that's being frank. It's helpful, it’s the truth and it's appreciated. Telling someone that their better half is a loser and behaves like a jerk and that they are better off without that person, well, that's being opinionated. It’s not required, not helpful and in most times, not appreciated.

You find people so quick to voice their opinions, without giving a thought to the feelings or the sentiments of the one being gifted the opinion. As if to say, these opinions are as valuable as the Ten Commandments carved on the tablets and given to Moses.

I think we all need to learn to be frank and at the same time, not cross the thin line to becoming opinionated.

When You Least Expect It

I had been contemplating a job change since the past one year. Had put up my resume on various job search portals, given it to quite a few consultants. Even went for a couple of interviews which for some reason did not turn out the way I hoped they would.
Then I stopped trying for some time and today, im few days away from joining my new office. And how did it happen - in the least expected way.
I had gone to lunch with a colleague, who received a call from a consultant. He was not interested, so passed on my details to her. Well, one thing lead to another and very soon, I had a new job on hand.
Amazing right. After trying for so long in so many ways, it finally worked out in the most unexpected way and on the most unexpected day.
Life does that very often, doesn't it. You keep trying very hard for something and then when you are least expecting it, when it’s the farthest thought on your mind - Bang - it just falls in your lap.
Some of the closest and best friendships I have made have also happened this way - in the least expected way, on the least expected day, with persons I least expected to be an acquaintance, leave alone close friends.

It's nice when life surprises you in such ways....

Does Your Desire Enslave You

Around a month back, i read this novel - Fountainhead by Ayn Rand. One of her best. Like a friend of mine said - it's a book which makes you think.

What i thought about, was the female protagonist, who has this peculiar philosophy in life. She does not want to find the perfect job, the perfect love, the perfect place. She fears that once she finds it, she will want it so much that it would own her, control her, dictate terms and conditions to her, make her lose her freedom.So the minute she finds a job or project she starts enjoying, she intentionally goofs up and loses it. The minute she finds herself getting attracted to someone to the extent that she starts fighting against the world for him, she goes and marries someone else. She runs away from every thing, person and place that threatens to own her, because of her desire for it. She only returns to it, if ever, when she is sure that the threat no longer exists. That it can no longer control her.Amazing right, or is it wierd or strange.

Well, the behaviour, maybe. But what about the philosophy behind it.Isn't it true that when we get attracted to something in life, we sometimes let it control us. Control the way we think, feel, act, take decisions. Be it a job, a person, an ideal or philosphy or even society for that matter. We give into our desire and lose our freedom. Well that does not turn out to be such a bad thing in the end, for many people. But is there someone who really values their freedom, individuality to the extent of giving up the love and desire of their life, just so that they dont get owned or dictated by it?

I dont think so.

And that's the reason, i feel, such a desire is at times taken away from us by the will of the almighty protagonist in our life. He knows what we don't. He knows that sometimes we want something so badly that it's owning us. Dictating to us. Enslaving our thoughts and actions. And since we don't have the strength to seperate ourselves from it, he does it for us. Leaving us wondering why that never worked out in our life, leaving us blaming God.

Well, if he feels, the threat no longer exists, he will return it to us. And if not, well, thank him for ending the slavery.

Dear Mr. Laloo Prasad Yadav....

... Hi, this is Rochelle D'Souza, one of your daily local train commuters.

I am quiet a patient, tolerant commuter, don’t get into unnecessary fights with others, but over the last few months that I’ve been travelling by the Mumbai locals, I have felt this need to educate my fellow passengers on a matter or two which would make travelling a tad easier for everyone.

• Jumping into the train to catch a seat - Well, you might say, they are exercising their constitutional right to get a seat, but at most times, it seems they are just sharpening their skills in hope that such jumps become the latest entry in the Olympics. I mean, take for instance, this lady who stands among the male passengers to get the first chance to soar into the ladies compartment - and for what - to alight after two stations - a mere distance of 8 kms. That too while suffering from a probable case of spondalitis or spine injury, from the look of the belts she wears on her. Or that college student who attempts this jump daily just to get the vantage spot on the footboard at the other end. Or during the sparsely crowded days of the holiday season. When any kid could predict that the seats available in the train are more than the passengers waiting to occupy them. We have all learned that the early bid catches the worm, but hey, there are enough worms for all the birds, so relax. I mean we're not entering a theatre or cinema hall where we need to reach early to get the balcony seats. All due respect to the Indian railways, but the surrounding scenery is not worth breaking your back over.
• First class or Second class - First and foremost, it does not depend on which class you can afford to travel in but more on your command on the language used by the travellers. You need to survive till your destination comes and survival sometimes depends purely on the gift of your gab. So if carrying on a ten minute breathless argument in Hindi interspersed with some of the latest foul words, is not up your alley, babes, you belong to the first class compartment. Next, check the baggage you are carrying. Physical I mean, totally not concerned about the emotional baggage you carry. If your company can afford to gift you a laptop, then they can definitely afford your first class travel. Don’t push that thing into those second class travellers, it does not interest or impress them in the least. They'd prefer the fisherwoman with her smelly basket over you and your wares. And if you look like a 3-ring circus with a briefcase plus laptop plus handbag, then you need to be introduced to one of the most interesting places - the luggage compartment. Get comfy there.
• The fourth seat - Oh my, the eternal debate continues on whether occupying a fourth seat is allowed in the first class or in the second class. See my dear friends; this too does not depend on the class of the compartment but on the size of the people occupying the other three seats. I mean, if the other three passengers represent the healthier portion of our country's population, there's not much option (or space as in this case) left for you in either of the compartments. I mean its not that the people expand in the first class or shrink in the second class, thus leaving or not leaving space for you on the fourth seat. So concentrate, not on the class, but on the mass, and especially focus on the lower half of the body. They could be looking like scavengers from their faces, but their Shakira hips are the ones sitting in your space.
• The seated over the standees - Dear seated one, please understand, you are just temporarily occupying that seat, you have not bought it or taken a hundred year lease on it. Neither were you born with that seat as a part of your rear end, so don’t throw that attitude of having an upper hand over the ones standing. They are the ones standing tall; they are the ones who have to look down on you, not the other way around. And excuse them for stepping on your pedicured toes or your white silk churidhar or bumping into your precious newspaper or smashing their bag into your face. They are totally apologetic for getting in the way of your comfort and luxury. I mean it’s totally their fault that you did not realise this morning that you're travelling by the 8.00 am local train and not the 8.00 am Kingfisher flight. They would also like to apologise in advance for the discomfort you're going to face in the coming monsoons.

So, Mr. Railway Minister, these comprise few of the behaviours that really irritates tolerant passengers like me. I mean, we don’t mind turning a deaf ear to the kid trying to turn his mobile chat into a live radio session. We don’t even mind lending our shoulders to the sleeping head which has lost all contact with the remaining body. And we are most appreciative of the budding singers of our country who have helped change the concept of 'bathroom singers' to 'train croakers'.
But there's a limit to everything. So if you don’t mind, take some time off, formulate a policy or two on the points i have just mentioned, try reducing our grievances a bit.

I mean, we so love travelling daily like a tin of sardines, we dont want these petty issues to dilute our joy.

Seven Precious Pearls

Jigna coined the name - The Gang Hooray for our group of eight, we eight classmates who bumped into each other in the year 1992 in division 'C' of the eighth standard class of Mary Immaculate. And have not been able to break the tie ever since.

What we all had in common - intelligence, noise and mischief. Which made us the rowdiest, yet smartest group in class. Oh, and our love of food - i think that's what bound us together the most in those last three years in school, we just couldn't resist jumping on each other's lunch box during recess. I can even remember few fights we had over some issue of food.
We had a great time, all of us. We fought with each other, fought for each other, competed on marks and scores, stood up for the one who got into trouble, cried on the pettiest of matters and laughed like there was no tomorrow. Yes, the one thing constant in our group was laugh, laugh and laugh.
It was easy being connected while in school, meeting each other every day. The challenge lay when we passed out, went to different colleges, different work places and now - different countries. All spread out across the globe. Three in India, two in USA, two in Singapore, one in Australia.
In the beginning, while in college, meeting at Christmas was the annual ritual. We would meet at my place, then move to Sherin's, then to Trudy's. I don't know which was more irresistible - meeting each other or the goodies we got to feast on. Then attending the weddings of the 6 who got hitched. That was fun, analysing the spouses, giving them a totally bad impression of what kiddish and immature friends their better halves had.
But the true test of time came when distance seperated us from each other. We did sever contact with each for some time and met only on occasions or whenever anyone flew back to India for holidays etc. But thanks to the community Trudy formed on the ever so popular social website, we all got back together again. To our non sensical gibberish and our ever precious laughter and our unending chats. But more than than, what we proved different from other clicks was to find a way to remain connected, no matter what, because that's how we wanted it.
Even though we parted ways 13 years back, we succeeded in being witnesses to the changes in each other's lives all these years.

And if my life was a string of pearls, these 7 of The Gang Hooray would find place among the most precious ones.

(These pearls are precious but can be dumb also at times. So when i say seven, dont worry, im not forgetting any of you'll, im just not counting myself.... obviously)

End Of An Era

I resigned today from my present organisation. After 7 years, 4 months and exactly 21 days.

The End Of An Era which started on 01-01-01, the day I had joined this bank.

Even though i had worked for a short span of 6 months elsewhere, i will always consider this place as my first school, my first guru - it gave me my first taste of success and failure, my first encounters with stress and tension, the unforgettable opportunity of becoming a branch manager at the age of 26. It gave me my best friends and no - i dont think i made any enemies, even though i ruffled quite a few feathers.

There are many many memories - of each and every promotion, each and every award, each and every scolding from my boss, of celebrating over good ratings and crying with colleagues over bad ones, of chasing targets and nurturing staff, of enjoying with colleagues on a cruise, the same colleagues with whom i would compete, at any cost, on the following day.

This place taught me that hard work is always rewarded. That no one remains on the top or the bottom forever. That your perception of yourself is at most times different from others' perception of you. That it's very easy to achieve as an individual but very tough as a leader, when others' performance determines your success. That's its not an easy feeling knowing you are responsible for your subordinates' careers. That cut throat competitiveness is ok, being cunning and scheming is ok, but not at the cost of ethics and integrity. That this world is not fair and complaining about it does not make it any fairer.

And today as i say goodbye to all these years, these great memories, these great learnings, i ask myself what was the one main principle i followed all these years. And i know what it was - something which my ex branch manager sent me as a 'thought for the day'

"You are free to choose, but the choices you make today will determine what you will have, be, and do in the tomorrow of your life"

Something Honest And Sincere

The strangest thing happened to me in the train this morning.
I was travelling by the usual 9.04 am train, it arrived at the platform late this morning. So i spent that time busy chatting with another girl who also travels by the same train regularly. She used to work in my bank until a few years ago, so I've known her since then and we got acquainted again by means of this travel. Hadn't seen her in quite a few days since i'd been using other modes of transport recently on my branch visits. So we got talking on the books we were reading, the increasing May heat, the increasing crowd for 'our' train etc. She then casually asked whether i would be travelling by the same train the next day also. I replied in the affirmative, but was a little surpirsed at the question, since she had never asked me this before. I just let it go without giving it a second thought.
We got a seat in the train which was quite a feat today, considering the built up crowd due to the delay. Sat across each other, she as usual started listening to music on her ipod, I got engrossed in my present novel by Ayn Rand - 'Fountainhead', till the train reached Khar station at which point i stood up to alight at the next stop. Tried wishing her the regular 'goodbye, have a nice day' greeting while leaving, but she was so engrossed in her music that she didnt notice me. So the passenger next to her shook her a bit and pointed towards me. I waved my hand and turned to leave when suddenly, she exclaimed loudly, due to the music blaring in her ears ' Rochelle, you're coming tomorrow, right'. Surprised again, and a little embarassed since the entire compartment heard that, i nonchalantly replied ' Yeah, maybe'. And that's when she said 'No, come tomorrow, please come tomorrow'. I said ok and got down at Bandra, totally confused by had just happened.

I mean i wasn't wondering the reason for her saying so, it maybe her birthday or she must be getting a new novel to show me or something like that. But the way she said it, 'Please come tomorrow', it was so honest and sincere. That i just couldnt say 'No' or 'I'll try' or something like that. I just had to say a yes.
It got me thinking of the number of times i've wanted to say to those close to me 'Come home today, i've been waiting to meet you' or 'Don't leave so soon, stay a while' or 'Can we just meet and talk, im feeling quite low' or 'Why are you ignoring me, it hurts'. Something honest and sincere, straight from the heart. But i don't, not as often as i would want to, and i wonder why. Is it my ego stopping me from showing others how weak i sometimes become or am i scared to show them how important they are to me, lest they take me for granted. Why do i sometimes feel that i can be more honest with a complete stranger than with my best friend. Why do i find it so difficult to cry in front of others and seek the safety of my bathroom instead. Wouldn't life be much easier if i was just honest and open and told people how i actually felt, as and when i felt it.
I silently decided that no matter what my plans for the next day, i would definitely travel by that train. Not so much to find out the reason for that request but for the mere reason that a request like that can never be turned down. If only all of us could be that honest and sincere, say what we exactly felt instead of playing the ego games we so often resort to, this world would be such a simpler place to live in.

It's Now Or Never

One of the last conversations i remember having with my grandmother before she expired four years back on April 24 was when she told me 'Rochelle, you have a very big heart'.
She said this after i announced my decision to buy a car. She was thrilled at my generosity and at the idea of travelling in the family car. Unfortunately, she got admitted in hospital the day i bought my car on April 18 and expired a week later. She never got a chance to travel in my car and this fact hit me hard few a couple of hours before her funeral. We were standing in the building compound, i remember standing next to Preeti and seeing my nana's body being brought down and laid in the coffin which ironically was placed just next to my car. And that's when i realised that instead of being in the car i wanted to see her in, she was in the coffin i never wanted to see her in.

If only i would not have delayed, for the last couple of months, over the decision to buy a car, she might have gotten a chance to travel in it.

Death does not check with our itenary, agenda or plans before sneaking into our lives. It just comes. So dont delay on making your family, friends and loved ones feel special, thanked or appreciated. Maybe its just a phone call to say hi or a trip you are planning to send them on or a gift you have always wanted to buy them or just a 'Thank You' you've been waiting to say.

It's Now Or Never!!!

A Date To Remember - April 18, 2008

If Richie, my choir master, had ever approached me with a request to join a choir giving a 10 year commitment, I would have run hundred miles away from such a ridiculous demand. But here we are, celebrating the 10th anniversary of my choir – yes the Marian Choir which began on April 18, 1998 with Richie, myself and a handful of others has turned ten years old. And what a decade it has been.
What memories – of singing every Sunday at our slotted 9.00 am mass, of fun practices every Friday evening, of singing for weddings of near ones and funerals of dear ones, of participating in the annual choral festivals at NCPA for six consecutive years. Such fond moments – of a choir which started out with just 7-8 members and grew to more than 25, so many have come and gone and keep coming back, we can safely say we represent a larger version of the Von Trapp family. And our Christopher Plummer, I mean Richie, needs nothing less than an Oscar for not only his relentless dedication but also for turning a noisy nuisance bunch of croaking pranksters like me into a more than decent choir.
Kudos to the Marian Choir.

Well, on the same day, 4 stations away at Goregaon, a priest got ordained. Brother Jude whom Trudy and I had had a brief encounter with at youth camp, a few months earlier, became Fr Magi Murzello on April 18, 1998 and entered our parish and our lives. I proudly say I’m the first person he met in this parish when he approached me and asked for directions in the church compound, little did I realize then that he was nothing less than a God sent guardian angel to guide and guard me. To those who don’t know him, he is a priest cum principal with educational qualifications that can put many doctors to shame, with knowledge so profound that he won the All India Bournvita Quiz Contest for Principals. He is a task master who can make most youth, student and teachers shiver at his command. To me and my family, he has been a confidant, a counselor and a close friend who would rush to your aid no matter what the hour of day. I can safely say that over these ten years there have been many pitfalls I would not have come out of and many more pitfalls I would have fallen into if it had not been for his guidance. And I won’t say anymore, else he’ll also become my murderer for embarrassing him so much.
Thank You Fr Magi.

And I just can’t reminisce over this day without remembering my Goldie; it’s our fourth anniversary today. It was on April 18, 2004 that she entered my life and it’s been one whirlwind of an affair ever since. Her sexy moves, her smooth drives, her soft caresses, her body of sensual curves, her racing spirit, her melodious voice, her amazing power has so attracted me these past years and driven me crazy – literally.
Oh, come off the wild imaginations; don’t tell me you don’t know who I’m talking about. My first love – MH23. E 1620 – MARUTI ZEN LX
I Love You My Goldie

Shall We Dance !!

So this Guy walks up to the Gal and asks her ‘Would you like to be my partner?’ She accepts, and they become partners for the dance.
The dance starts with the American FoxTrot and they have a ball of a time. They realize how well they blend, how perfect they are for each other, how they move together so gracefully with such charm and finesse.
Then suddenly the guy decides to change the music and switches to some waltz tracks. He happily starts leading the girl and she obediently follows. But after a few rounds she starts to tire of being lead all the time. She has been a solo dancer most of these years, choosing her own moves, so now she gets nervous at dancing to someone else’s tunes. The result - she starts her own moves and tries to lead the guy.
This poor chap can’t for the life of him understand what exactly is happening. She is suddenly the boss, trying to guide him, stepping on his toes, entering into his space. Their earlier graceful movements now start looking as jagged as the writing of a pen with a rough nib.
This change of power is too confusing for him; he starts feeling claustrophobic, so he changes the music to his favourite heavy metal numbers and joins his male friends in the head banging moves they enjoy best, leaving his female partner all to herself.
Totally upset and frustrated by her guy leaving her alone while he thrives in his male bonding, she suddenly spots one of her ex – dance partners at the far end of the room. Wanting to taste sweet revenge, she ambles up to him and with a flutter of her eyelids, cajoles him into accompany her in the next dance. She then cleverly changes the beats from rock to salsa, not only since she and her ex can rock the dance floor with their salsa moves, but because her present guy does not know the A to Zee of this dance.
Should I even mention how furious he gets at seeing his girl dance with her ex on tunes they know best? He can’t even butt in since he would just make a fool of himself, not knowing which leg to move first to get the dance started. He knows the only way to get her back is by offering her something she just can’t resist.
So, he changes the music to the ever graceful Cha-Cha-Cha, puts his ego aside, walks up to her and requests her – not only to join him in this dance but also to lead him in it, since he is still rough at the edges for this particular sequence. Now this is an offer she just can’t refuse. I mean imagine finally getting an upper hand over him. So kissing off a good bye to her ever mystified ex, she leads her guy on to the dance floor and the born leader in her takes over.
Do you think this will last for long – oh no, the guy just cannot control the growing agony of his ego while he is being stared upon by his shocked male comrades. “Man, I’ve got to do something”, he thinks to himself, “which lets me lead here and at the same time does not arouse the demon in her”.
So finally, he cleverly changed the music to their favourite Jive beats which lets him lead and does not threaten her dominant spirit. And they thoroughly enjoy the rest of the dance.

When someone asked them to give a name to this entire sequence of tunes where the most important deciding factor was who leads whom, they both smiled and said
‘We call it Marriage!!!!’

A Seven Rung Ladder (Sequel to 'The Ideal Dust')

So angel Alyssa and her companion stepped out of the pearly gates to commence their journey as mortals.
In front of them stood a huge seven rung ladder, which would lead them to Earth.

They stepped on to the first rung, a rung filled with bright RED hearts. In the middle of the rung, a huge heart was placed on which were painted the words

Here is your armour, of courage, strength and love
No situation too bleak can make you frail or weak
When armed with the best gifts from God above

They carried these hearts onto the next step, a step covered with bright ORANGE ribbons. There were ribbons floating everywhere. And each ribbon carried the words...

A ribbon of gaiety, a ribbon of cheer
A ribbon of youth and vibrance for you
No evil on earth should an angel ever fear

With that message, they jumped onto the next step - it was covered with gifts wrapped in YELLOW. And the card on each gift read

The gift of wisdom, for every decision you make
The gift of confidence, for every step you take
Be strong Alyssa, in the world you are to face

As they moved to the fourth rung, getting closer to earth, they stepped onto a bright GREEN carpet. They were surrounded with the greenest of grass and tallest of trees. They moved to the nearest tree and on the bark was written...

Be one with nature, protect and preserve
All God's creations should be treated alike
A fair chance to survive, do they all deserve

The fifth rung rained BLUE dew drops all over them, the dew carried a moisture of peace and loyalty. And the sign said

These drops of blue seep through to your soul
Each drop of peace to keep you serene
Those of loyalty keep you true to your goal

On the next rung, they were covered with rays of INDIGO, shining brightly on them. They basked in the light while they read the message....

Rays of indigo, shine strong and bright
Truth & Honesty, is the glare they carry
Will highlight the line between wrong and right

Well finally they stepped onto the last rung - which was covered by a bed of VIOLETS. As they walked through it, each of the flowers bloomed and out poured a sign which read

These buds of violet, bloomed specially for you
For kindness of heart, do they here impart
From harshness of earth, to keep you apart

And armed with these gifts, Alyssa and her companion finally reached earth to start their journey called life.




So each time you look to the sky and see a rainbow, remember, its just not an ordinary rainbow, its a seven rung ladder bringing an angel down from heaven to fill our life with gifts galore.

The Ideal Dust

Angel Alyssa approached God with a request 'I'd like to become a mortal and go down to Earth. I want to live the life of a real human being.'
God granted the request on one condition 'You can't go alone. Life is pretty tough down there. You need a friend; a partner to accompany you. I will make you a companion, just as I have created all other human beings. I'll let you choose the dust which I would use to form him. But it comes at a price. Each dust you pick will either increase or decrease the earth years I am granting you. It's your decision'
So God lead Alyssa to the creation room filled with dusts of different colours, names, types and quantity. She went to the dust which was most in demand – the dust of 'Richness'.
'I'd like to start with this dust, how much would it cost me' she asked
'Well, it would just take away 5 earth years from your kitty' came the reply.
'Isn't that too much?' asked the angel.
'Well, the dust of richness does not come alone. You also have to buy the by products of hard work, stress and tension. It's a package deal. Though hard work is a good dust, the stress and tension are really tough and difficult to blend. So I'd have to charge you 5 earth years.'
'What about this other one – the dust called 'beauty and fame'? It seems interesting' inquired Alyssa.
'Oh, this dust is good and in high demand. Let's see, it would cost you around 3 earth years' came God's reply.
'But that's ridiculous; I would end up spending all my earth years in creating my companion itself. Why is this one so costly?'
'Well', explained God, 'Just like richness, this too has a by-product – a dust called EGO. No matter how hard I have tried to create this dust without the by product, I just can't separate them'
'So what's wrong with the 'ego' dust? Why does it reduce my earth years?' asked Alyssa.
'Well, my dear, once you have this dust in you, you spend a lot of energy and time in loving yourself more than loving others. You plan your life around yourself; everything you do is to satisfy your own spirit. When you think of yourself more than others, it reduces your earth years.'
Alyssa then walked up to another stack of dusts. 'What about these over here – I like the names 'Honesty', 'Trust', 'Simplicity', 'Respect', 'Honour'. How many earth years would I need to give up in return for these?
'My dear, these have an offer on them', said God. You get two earth years free on each of these dusts. You see, a person created with these dusts is able to easily overcome obstacles like failures, hatred, injustice and many such others. He has the power in him to cross these hurdles faster than others, so you get an increase in your earth years.'
'But God, there's one thing I don't understand. The dusts which are high in demand decrease my earth years while the ones having hardly any demand at all increase the years. Why so?'
And God explained 'Well, human beings tend to search for dusts without checking their success rate in achieving happiness in their life's journey. Sadly they realize this much later on, when it's too late for me to change the composition.'
'How do I know which of these dusts to choose to make my companion? Which would be the ideal combination for me?' asked Alyssa
'The ideal combination, my dear is the one which would perfectly match those used in creating you. But only I know which dusts have gone into forming you, hence only I would be able to concoct this ideal combination.'
And Alyssa concluded 'Then I leave it to you, God. You are my creator; you know what I am made of and what I need. You pick the dusts of your choice and ill accept this combination from you.'

My Village My Home

“Borivali – You stay in Borivali – That’s like staying in a village, isn’t it” – exclaimed a friend of mine once. “I mean it’s like the suburb of the suburbs, the forgotten soil, the land of the ‘padas’. How could you even grow up there?”

“Well”, I retort, “I just completed 20 years of this so called ‘village’ life and I’ve loved every moment of it. Let me to take you on an unabridged tour of this village of mine.”

So, a week later, we set out on a sight see of the place. I first took him to my school, since he wanted to see the place which had contributed most to my life. After checking it out, he quirked, “Ok, it’s a great place, up on a serene hill with a lush green surrounding, but in the end, it’s just a primitive girls school which lacks a great deal of finesse and charm. I can actually hear the boredom and monotony resounding all around.

“You hear boredom and monotony”, I remarked, “ while I hear poetry and theorems moulding my young mind, the excitement of my class which won the debate, the sobbing of my peers on losing the elections, the laughter of my gang which binds us even today, after more than a decade. You see the need for sophistication while I see the simplicity and self respect my alma mater imbibed in me.

We then headed home and he suddenly exclaimed – “Look at these roads – so narrow, crowded and dirty, dug up in most places, no footpaths. People everywhere, no place to even walk freely. By the way, is concrete allergic to this place?”
I laughed at that and said – “You see dust on these roads while I see footprints of my best friends and I, taking long walks, sharing our dreams, our achievements, crying our broken hearts out. I see tire marks - of cycles we rode in college, of my car as it screeched on these roads, my first driving arena. You see narrow crowded paths, I see friends enjoying themselves at the vada pav and pani puri vendors, taking pleasure in these simple moments which will form lasting memories.

Later on, relaxing at home, he leaned towards me and whispered, “I like your home, it’s really cozy and neat, but be honest – wouldn’t you have rather lived in a much larger, spacious, sprawling home with a room to your self, more privacy, more space?”
“Maybe”, I replied, “But this small home has taught me important lessons in life. The one bedroom we siblings shared taught us how to make the most of what we have; the one TV set we fought over taught us that sharing and adjustments are an integral part of life. The non stop chit chat and noise in my home convinced me that no matter how far I journey; there would always be a haven to return to. If my life races ahead like a Ferrari, my home is the garage I return to, battered and bruised, ready to give me a total overhaul.

And as the visit drew to an end, my friend smiled at me and said “If this village has given you such proud moments, if the fond memories here makes time stand still for you, then all I can say is – You are one lucky village belle!!!”

Olivia Singing Again

Olivia used to sing in my choir till she relocated to Dubai after her marriage to my brother. They came down to Mumbai this week for a short holiday, much to everyone's delight. At mass on Sunday, my choir master asked her to join us in singing a couple of hymns, since she knew them well. It was great having her back there, but more than feeling great, it brought back an immense feeling of nostalgia.

Olivia singing in the choir again reminisced me of the days spent together before they had moved away, of the days spent with my brother under the same roof, of the days when we were five in the family, of the days when each of us had one decade of the rosary to say instead of present times when mom and I alternate the entire five between us.

But the hardest thing that hit me was how fast I had gotten used to not having them around, day in and day out.

Birds fly away from the nest – that’s an accepted fact of life. What’s surprising though, is how fast we become immune to this fact. We live 15 - 20 years of our life in a routine which surrounds a set number of people we call family, yet when they move away, it takes us not even one tenth of that time to get accustomed to another routine - without them. I mean, why is it that easy. Why is separation loss that short lived.

Indispensable - what a sad word. It belittles all the importance, all the contributions that people have brought to our lives all these years. I’ve heard that the only thing indispensable to one's living is the air they breathe and their heart which beats. If this were true, then why would the sight of an orphanage or an old aged home pull so dearly at our heart strings? Don’t they have whatever they need to survive – then what are they missing? Family, loved ones, companionship – right.

Man, a social animal has always needed people around him as much as the air he breathes. That’s why he is born into a pre-decided nest of parents and grand parents, siblings and cousins, aunts and uncles. Each of them brings to him their own straws, their own contributions to bind that nest strong.
But slowly, as the seasons change, each bird flies away and that very Man, unknowingly starts gasping for air like a mountaineer scaling a steep slope – Yet, what’s sad is that he doesn’t realize this, he doesn’t feel this shortage of breath, till those birds fly back and the air around him is filled again with all the oxygen he needs.

As I finish this article, Olivia and my brother pack their bags to head back home – a home away from home. And we wait, till they return to us mountaineers at Hill Top, to our nest we call home.

A Chosen Involvement

I was travelling by train to Goregaon a few weeks back on official work and since its just four stations away from Borivali, I found myself a safe spot near the footboard and started enjoying the wintry breeze caress my face as the train gathered speed. Barely did it stop at the next station than these four rowdy male youth entered the compartment and stood on the footboard to commence their journey.
Now, im usually a person who prefers turning a blind eye to such nuisances than getting involved, but on this one instance, I just could not stop myself from reminding them that they had no right to travel in the ladies compartment.
In reply to that, the guys just shot back saying they knew exactly where they were and I had no right to interfere in their business. This was followed by a barrage of unruly remarks from them which did not shock me as much as the silence from the other women. Not one single co passenger supported me in this and I was left alone to bear the brunt of getting involved.

A few days later I was travelling in the ladies' first class compartment of my regular train when I heard an uproar in the adjacent compartment. I couldn’t see what was happening but interpreted the give and take of abuses as a fight of the first class ladies versus a non first class traveller, who had dared to occupy a seat in their 'esteemed' section.
Trust the eyes of the regular first class travellers to immediately spot the odd man out.
Well the lady was just not willing to get out of the first class, she insisted that it was the 'janta' train and she had every right to travel in it. But she just could not win against the collective stand of the other women who delayed the train from leaving the platform till this lady was removed from the compartment by the female cops on duty.

We choose when to get involved.

We choose whom to support and whom not to. Worse still - We choose whom to stand up against. And this rarely stems from our belief of who is right and who is wrong, but more from the socially accepted fact that ' Majority Wins' - which makes majority right, so let's be a part of that majority.
More than the fear of standing up against those men in the compartment, it was a fear of standing up alone, of not being backed by others that prevented the ladies from speaking up that day. But that same fear turns into a confidence of being supported by those many minds which agree that we cannot share our rights, our privileges with those in society who have just not 'earned' it.
While the audacity of men to enter a ladies compartment can be tolerated, the guts of a woman to enjoy a comfort she has no right to, cannot be condoned. We would rather delay our own travel; cause harm to our own selves than share our space with those who are less equal to us. I mean how could she even think of becoming a part of a class much above her.


Start with what’s right rather than what is acceptable – Peter Drucker.

Make Your Life Your Inspiration

A friend of mine once sent me this message - Make waves your inspiration, not because they rise and fall, but because after each fall, they rise again.

While I would not like to undermine the strength and motivation this adage carries, I’d like to point out the fact that we don’t need to go that far to find such inspiration. The rises and falls in our own past lives can give us the strength to believe that deep inside we have the ability to rise again and face the poisoned arrows this life keeps throwing at us.
This strength comes from the single fact that this is just one life we live and we want no other option that to continue living it and living it to the fullest.

When I look back at my school days and the plans I had for the next 10-12 years of my life - a comfortable job with the least pressure, a fairy tale marriage, a dream home, a long trip round the world. Today, those years have passed by and when I look back at my life, fortunately or unfortunately, some things have worked out the way I planned, some things worked out better and some things just didn’t work out. But the important thing is that I still wake up each morning, thanking God for this wonderful, amazing life and I wouldn’t have wished it to have worked out any other way.

If we compare our lives to a piano with the black keys (depicting sorrows or failures) dominating the white keys (depicting joys or achievements), each of us should be proud to have emerged a survivor in this battle field. No matter how many black keys, how many sharp notes, we are still standing, still loving each and every moment spent with our family, still enjoying a good laugh with friends, still getting amazed and awed at the wonders of nature - in short - still living life with a gusto equal to that of a young child with an immaculate past.

So why not make our own lives an inspiration for our future, why not take strength from the ability we ourselves have shown in the past to emerge victorious and smiling from each and every hollow we have fallen into. Why turn to inspirational books or sayings or movies or preaching, when in ourselves lies the very source of strength we need for the future.

Like the saying in the blockbuster Bollywood film - Om Shanti Om – “Whatever a man really wants in his life, in the end he ultimately gets it and till then, its not - THE END”