Family Madness

Family mania is etched on my mind in the aftermath of this holiday season. It was a drama and emotion packed week for me as I celebrated Diwali after almost six years. I refuse to call the last few years - Diwali celebration (when in the US), with the phoney mithais, crayon rangolis, wax diyas and stale goodies. A new Eureka moment dawned on me as my mind has reluctantly registered that it was actually missing the family drama and chaos that drives such festivals. Infact I have enough ammunition to write a new tele serial! The only sad moment this Diwali was loss of a ailing family member. As a mark of respect, we decided to not celebrate ‘Bhau beez’ and instead went out to Water Kingdom! I must have been an amphibian my last life. My soul lights up when I am in water, but this was something else. The crazy slides literally pushed the wind out of us after which we stuck to the kiddies rides! What fun that was!

I want to know!

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.

I want to know what you ache for,

and if you dare to dream

of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are.

I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.

I want to know if you have touched

the center of your own sorrow,

if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy,

mine, or your own,

if you can dance with wildness

and let the ecstasy fill you

to the tips of your fingers and toes

without cautioning us to be careful,

to be realistic,

to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me

if the story you are telling me is true.

I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty,

even when it's not pretty, every day,

and if you can source your own life

from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of a full moon, "Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know

where you live or how much money you have.

I want to know if you can get up,

after a night of grief and despair,

weary and bruised to the bone,

and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know

or how you came to be here.

I want to know if you will stand

in the center of the fire with me

and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me

where or what or with whom you have studied.

I want to know what sustains you, from the inside when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments. 

-Author Unknown

Aila Competition!!

Giggles!

The FIRST 21!!

I ran the Standard Chartered Mumbai Marathon on 15^th Jan and what an experience it was. I count the 4hr-run as a trip and hence a travelogue is in order!

I remember vividly being so excited that I got up even before the alarm went off. With barely any sleep, we gathered at the holding area. The excitement was contagious; it was as if we had been shot with adrenaline. You could see people bent in strange poses as we began our warm up exercises. We huddled near the start line bobbing up and down to keep warm against the cool breeze. We clicked a hundred pictures on our camera phones. Finally the race started as we began our slow jog towards the sea link. The moonlit bridge came into view and the city rose dark against the black sky. It reminded me of the NYC sky line. Just as we were about 5 kms into the race, we saw few a athletes sprint by on the other side of the bridge in full action. I was told that they were the full marathon participants who had started at our finish line and had made their way across to us! It was amazing to see these athletes as they jogged on effortlessly, our entire batch cheering them on! As we were about half way through the sea link, dawn broke and the sky turned crimson. I sorely missed my camera which I had deemed an unnecessary- extra baggage! At that moment, I swore I would finish this race as opposed to quitting at 10K limit! As we exited the bridge, our first audience came into view and the entire lot of us increased our pace determined to put on a good show. We grinned at the bystanders and took longer swifter strides. As we turned left we met some more ‘full marathon runners’ who continued almost gliding to their half way mark. As the road turned around the “XYZ” the mundane streets dulled our enthusiasm which was only revived when larger groups of people huddled the street sides cheering us on! Then there was a siren and police bikes raced ahead with flags and a cameraman followed them. The astonished lot of us looked around to find the first of ‘full marathon’ runners overtaking us as our paths merged. We cheered harder and felt real inspiration to go on. The organizers had done a spectacular job of setting up ‘water bottle stands’ at every half km ride. There were stalls handing out wet sponges to cool our overheated limbs. We gulped down copious amounts of water and strew the empty bottles at the sides as instructed to ensure their swift collection and disposal. That was the only time I felt terribly guilty of littering the streets of Mumbai. I silently thanked those volunteers who would be cleaning up after us.

By the time we completed the full circle and came back to ‘Bandra sea link’ I could feel the tiredness creeping in. This time I was saved by another ‘U-turn’ as my own team mates who were ahead of us came into view cheering me on. I laughed and gave them thumbs up! We continued ahead with slow jogs that alternated with walks. A fellow team mate to whom I am thoroughly indebted to, motivated me by being my ‘half marathon’ tour guide! He literally listed out all the attractions along the road (right from Babulnath temple, Mahalakshi Temple, Pedhhar Road, Haji Ali, Marine Drive) edging me towards the finish line. After the 11K mark, exhaustion crept in and I yearned for some energy drinks. My sleep deprived mind played tricks on me and I swear I felt I was sleep walking. If that were true I would have entered the Guinness book of world records for longest ‘sleep walk’ EVER!

My monologue and reverie was broken as my blood sugar reached a new low. I was in denial of my fatigue, the pain in my legs as they grew heavier by the minute! My prayers

were soon answered as some bystanders offered ‘Parle G’ biscuits to the lot of us. We broke our stride to grab some biscuits and carried on nibbling. With renewed zeal we moved forward. All was indeed well till about 13km after which my legs started seriously hurting. For the next 5 kms I walked, crawled even. Bystanders cheered us on and that was the only reason why I made it to the finish line. As we turned the last corner onto Marine drive, it was as if we had entered a new world. Groups of people had put up stalls and the loud music got me jogging once again. The final frontier was the jog from 19-20km! It seemed never ending and was the longest stretch by far. The minute we reached the 20K mark, a renewed me was born who jogged ahead. I couldn’t believe I was almost finishing it and my own heart swelled up with pride! I was smiling by the time my ‘bib’ beeped the for the last time at the 21km finish line! FANTASTIC!

DIWALI

Diwali is known as the Festival of lights and I believe that it catches everyone’s fancy, because even if it is only for a few moments, the bright lights emanating from fireworks lights up everybody’s night and manages to mesmerize even the most reluctant one of all! I bet it has something to do with psychology and remotely relates to conquer of good over evil and all that. However what surprises me the most is its lasting effect... of a shower of lights, the warm glow of diyas and the twinkle of ‘torans’! Maybe over the years, our brains have been hard wired to associate all those things with festivals and family and warmth which spin a web of excitement and fun. Yes ofcourse the monumental amount of goodies and comfort food does nothing to diminish this lasting feeling that leaves us in a state of bliss and contentment. Hope you had a happy diwali folks! And now let’s look forward to tequila shots at new years!

Fight!

When Spielberg lends his name to a movie, you just know to expect the best! Real Steel is set in the future, and centers around the sport of boxing in which giant computerized robots have replaced humans. At the heart of the story are a retired boxer (Charlie played by Jack) and his alienated son who share an interest in boxing. After his mother’s death, the son moves in with Charlie who takes him in only as a part his business deal. As the movie progresses, the father-son duo bond over their mutual love for boxing. After losing all his assets, including his last robot, Charlie unwillingly takes his son and his outdated robot to a fight. As the son controls his outdated robot, with Charlie’s aid and wins, the duo realize the worth of their partnership and train the robot together. What follows next is a series of wins as the robot finally makes it to the championship circle.

Boxing as a sport is violent even when a bunch of metal and screws go up against each ot

her. However, some endearing moments more than made up for the metal grating violence. Seeing the son yearn for his father’s approval and attention, Charlie’s love for boxing, the son’s dance moves as he enters the arena, all together gave the otherwise action packed movie a softer tone. It was a Thursday night on the 4th week of showing and still about 20 of us turned up for the 11 pm show. As the final round began everyone shared the excitement as the underdog robot-Adam faced the All Time Champion-Zeus! As both the robots switched to manual mode, the underdog robot (mimicking Charlie’s moves, a boxer himself) won hands down to the sleek and equally terrifying challenger’s robot (being manually controlled by his genius creator). All of us silently cheered as the underdog faltered but stood upright till the end!

Mausam!

Words may never do justice to emotion. More often that not we see that the beauty of certain emotions is lost in translation as at times there just isn’t a word (in the translated language) that is capable of grasping the entire spectrum of emotions. Mausam is one such word. It loosely translates to weather or climate. But in urdu, it implies much more. In context of this movie, it t implies the moment two people meet, time when love blooms, time of separation and most importantly the test of time that their true love stands. The director has managed to capture some of the rare moments of love oozing from stolen glances and silent exchanges. Everyday stories picturized are not far from reality and capture some strong emotions. However in today’s day and age of internet, it is difficult to accept that contacting people or staying in touch can be such a challenge despite what subterfuges were made by ill-wishers.. It would have been more realistic had they not chosen such a broad timeline or browsed only through riots and instead had included other happier life changing moments. Overall, I liked the movie for the principled main leads and their lifestyle and would definitely recommend it to those viewers who enjoy the beauty in simplicity and relish idealism and wholesomeness of love.