So when the gang landed at the door singing Christmas carols thru the gate to the door, into the living space, the two boys had to freshen up, put on their shoes and squeeze into the remaining space in the car. The music was deafening and when sung by a group of thirteen standing next to their beds with bottles of water to throw onto their sleepy faces, the boys asked their sleep to come another time!
Kashi was listed on the airline manual as a must visit café in the city… a café opened 15 years ago by an American woman married to an Indian man…. read D from the her cell directory. So we set off towards the fort area looking forward to snack there admiring the art hung on their walls! And lo! The brown doors had an ultra big lock with a sign board “open between 19:30 to 23:00 hours”. And it was only 17 hundred hours then!
Crest fallen, we walked the lanes looking out for an open door, even a tiny window for some coffee. It was at that moment we heard them whistle. We looked up to find the smiling faces of the CCD folks. Come on in they said and we climbed the steep steps to their Mango bar; ordered large cups of coffee, some slushes, some cakes and brownies. We posed and were clicked, moved the tables and chairs around to make space for the entire gang and dug in to every served item on the coffee table.
The Bubbling n Troubling cousins met after a long long long long time this year and to think that we were not even half of the entire lot!
Happy New Year everyone:)
Why I love this time of the year
Because it is all about holidays
Being with my favourite people
Enjoying and Relaxing
And just being around to look out for that
New Year -Full of new things, new ideas
I love the christmas season
Santa comes and there are gifts
Parties and fun
Meeting all those cousins and friends you have missed all year round
Wishing all this and more this Christmas and in the New Year!
Pic Courtesy: The Kiddo
This company has a new Chief Executive Officer. Hardly anybody noticed him the first night he sat for dinner amongst the 50 others in the room. He went up to the buffet counters and served himself his first, second, third and dessert courses, deposited his used plate in the discards counter after he finished his meal, tissue paper and food waste in their respective bins.
He was formally introduced to his staff in office the next day. People at lunch recognised him. They whispered when he passed by and some greetings were exchanged. The Manager Singh politely asked him to be seated at one of the tables when he was about to scoop some of the freshly cut carrots into his plate. He nodded with his head and proceeded to treat himself with some rice and vegetables. Manager Singh was at his side again by his table, a tray loaded with a bowl each of the curries and some cut fruits for dessert. He chewed his food slowly and nodded his head again.
Across him at the long table were a couple of interns. They called out to A Singh and B Singh for more food and their special desserts and ice-creams. As they got up to leave their plates and glasses were cleaned away by the other junior Singhs in the guest house.
A couple of other Presidents came in, looked up at the Manager Singh for his customary salute and greetings, sat down at a table and waited to be served.
And these questions cropped up inside my crappy brain!
Who will follow whom!
Will the CEO’s habits rub on his employees!
Will Manager Singh disregard the new CEO while keep the others in good esteem!
Will anybody feel the burning shame, EVER!
Thought I’ll share one of those poems I seem to like a lot. The art of losing isn’t hard to master… the refrain
Poet: Elizabeth Bishop
Title: One Art
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.
— Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.
I’m like those hundreds and thousands of people who cannot stand continuous nonstop nonsense. Those aimless ambling
loud banter over dinner to attract some wanted attention from the adjacent tables, the guffawing over loose talk!
I’m nuts. I know. Exactly my thoughts when the number of irritants increased! Some kind of obsessive compulsive disorder for spotting the kind, I could be nominated as the Irritant Spotter or it could be the hormones acting over time during my PMS! But 24 by 7 by 365 days ?!
So when I came across this passage, a smile escaped my lips… Still smiling:
We mourn for the dead because they have no access to light. We ought to mourn for fools, because they have no access to intelligence. In fact, we should go into deeper mourning for fools, because the life they lead is worse than death. The dead are at least at rest. For seven days we mourn the dead, but a foolish or ungodly person causes a lifetime of grief.
Don’t visit stupid people or spend a lot of time talking with them. Avoid them; then they can’t contaminate you, and you can live in peace without being troubled or worn down by their foolishness. Such people are a heavier burden to bear than lead; and the only word that fits them is “fools.” It is easier to carry a load of sand, salt, and iron than to put up with a stupid person.
I’ve never experienced such peace. At least I have some support in great minds! And how I ranted and raved, wearing out my body and soul discussing them in my waking and sleeping hours. And what surprised me was where I found this piece. Sirach 22:11-15 Old Testament, The Holy Bible – my current book on the shelf.
PS: I woke up at 11 in the morning. Lunched at 3 in the afternoon. Slept again until 6 in the evening. Ranted to a busy AB deep in work for a while, opened a book and typed in this post!! And I’m off to catch Auro his Maa, his Bum n of course his Paa
I woke up this morning with a prayer………..please let him get to that 300 without any glitches. I even crossed my fingers hoping that the Sri Lankans for once would want to see a record made during their match today! Fat chance, said MJ, they are’nt the likes of Javagal Srinath
who bowled umpteen wides in that over at Kotla, so Anil Kumble could get to his 10
In hindsight, how foolish of me to think such of our visiting neighbours whose lines from that pre-match interview still rings loud in my head. Those interviews could be part of a strategy needling the Opposition at the wrong places and in using those forbidden words.
And what a session it was today. The first 20 minutes of play saw the usually defensive Dravid
coming forward to hit a sixer and the all time aggressive Sehwag
studiously concentrating on tackling the ball!
Remembering those days when the whole bunch of us kiddies used to be at home whenever a match was on.
We took our breaks when they took theirs on the field.
Lunch was always a buffet. We quickly took our servings of everything on the table and plonked back on the carpet to have our meal.
We were the umpires, we were the coaches, we were the commentators, we were the players, we were the spectators.
And we went back to the field once the match was over to resume our session of play.
PS: I’m a huge Kumble fan :))))))