It is another busy day. Leaving my wife at 730 am, to spend the next twelve hours alone in the flat, far away from home, in Malaysia.

I was feeling very bad about not being able to spend time for her. To take some time out. Bunk work, go traipsing across the hills and dales of beautiful Malaysia, to savour the multiple wares of food from all over the world, to simply spend time in  being together, doing nothing, but doing everything together

But, here I am, chained to my PC and my desk churing out one dull document after another, to enable some entity to build yet another edifice that will mint more money.

Sometimes I wonder whether it is worth all this. Is it not better for me to give up my job, just be at home and give my full time to my wife and kids?

I wonder.

Who will bring the monthly pay cheque home? Neither I nor my wife have come endowed with wealth from ancestors.

We have never won a jackpot, will never ever hit the bullseye in any lottery, so theres no hope of getting easy money by windfalls.

But then, even if I manage to get enough moolah to be able to while away the rest of my time in leisure and pleasure, will it be all that good as I am thinking of?

I wonder, again.

It is my work that has given me an identity, that has given me so much of knowledge, contacts and acceptability in my peer group as well as other forums.

It is indeed my work that has made me confident of being able to do what is required when it is.

I doubt whether I would be that interesting to be with if I am weighed down with a hell of a lot of free time.

As they say, familiarity breeds contempt. Would my appeal diminish if my family sees me footloose and fancy free, not to mention workfree all the time?

Is it not ones work that gives one the biggest identity?

I have decided I will not feel guilty of depriving my wife of my company for 12 hours a day, when she is on a holiday with me.

I shall take her out every evening. (There goes my budget and careful planning of expenditure!)

Ok now thats decided, lemme get back to work!!!!!!!!!

Thanks ILAND  and Ilanders. I needed this catharsis. I was feeling quite bad. Somehow, putting my garbled train of thoughts on the PC screen makes me feel better already.

:):)

I generally refrain from posting forwards in my blogspace. However, when I opened my mail this morning, I got one which I felt I should necessarily share with all my blog friends..

It is one which made me feel lighter about my heavier ( than most people) frame

I love this Doctor !!!

Q: I've heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life; is this true? 

A: Your heart is only good for so many beats, and that's it... don't waste them on exercise. Everything wears out eventually. Speeding up your heart will not make you live longer; that's like saying you can extend the life of your car by driving it faster. Want to live longer? Take a nap.  

Q: Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables?

A: You must grasp logistical efficiencies. What does a cow eat? Hay and corn. And what are these? Vegetables. So a steak is nothing more than an efficient mechanism of delivering vegetables to your system. Need grain? Eat chicken. Beef is also a good source of field grass (green leafy vegetable). And a pork chop can give you 100% of your recommended daily allowance of vegetable products.

Q: Should I reduce my alcohol intake?

A: No, not at all. Wine is made from fruit. Brandy is distilled wine, that means they take the water out of the fruity bit so you get even more of the goodness that way. Beer is also made out of grain. Bottoms up!

Q: How can I calculate my body/fat ratio?

A: Well, if you have a body and you have fat, your ratio is one to one. If you have two bodies, your ratio is two to one, etc.

Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program?

A: Can't think of a single one, sorry. My philosophy is: No Pain...Good!

Q: Aren't fried foods bad for you?

A: YOU'RE NOT LISTENING!!! .... Foods are fried these days in vegetable oil. In fact, they're permeated in it. How could getting more vegetables be bad for you?

Q: Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle?

A: Definitely not! When you exercise a muscle, it gets bigger. You should only be doing sit-ups if you want a bigger stomach.

Q: Is chocolate bad for me?

A: Are you crazy? HELLO Cocoa beans! Another vegetable!!! It's the best feel-good food around!

Q: Is swimming good for your figure?

   'If swimming is good for your figure, explain whales to me.

Q: Is getting in-shape important for my lifestyle?

A: Hey! 'Round' is a shape!  

Well, I hope this has cleared up any misconceptions you may have had about food and diets.

And remember:

'Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways - Chardonnay in one hand - chocolate in the other - body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming 'WOO HOO, What a Ride'

AND......

For those of you who watch what you eat, here's the final word on nutrition and health. It's a relief to know the truth after all those conflicting nutritional studies.

1. The Japanese eat very little fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

2. The Mexicans eat a lot of fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

3. The Chinese drink very little red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

4. The Italians drink a lot of red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

5. The Germans drink a lot of beers and eat lots of sausages and fats and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

CONCLUSION 

Eat and drink what you like.

Speaking English is apparently what kills you.

" I have a boy friend"

I couldn't believe my ears!!!

There she stood before me, fresh after bath, all glowing and pink, health oozing from evey pore after her early morning workout, smiling dreamily at me and mouthing it , caressing every word with her silky voice...

" I have a boy friend"

I could not remember a worse wake up call ever than this. My wife of 22 years. Of course she, having been a working engineer, has many male colleagues, friends, confidants, and I dont claim to know them all. Nor have I ever given a thought to it.

I quickly did a run through of the friends I knew, in my mind. Could it be that Bengali poet who I have seen giving her the glad eye? Or is it the mallu from next door? Naah he is way too outside her tastes. Then who could it be???  Racking my brains, I asked her the obvious. 'When did it start? Been long since you both know each other?”

“Just been a week” she said. “But I love him lots. He plays with me like you never do. He follows me everywhere the moment I see him. Even if I try and chase him away in full public view, he devotedly sticks to me. He escorts me to the gym and back every morning, very keen about my safety. He even comes with me when I am out to pay the bills”.

“I have given him a name too. My Red Knight”.

She, who in her entire life has never given me a nickname other than call me by actions, has even given a royal name to her boy friend.

"Oh!! Must be some rich man's kid, in order to pay her bills...er my bills" I thought. Mentally calculating how many days' worth of work is it to pay all the bills in our house, I couldn’t help wonder where I went wrong.

“You know he is quite young and handsome “, she said.

Oh! so thats it. I dont look good enough for you, eh? Hmm time was when you used to say I look handsome. One must make allowances for the years. The girth around the belly apart, it is only the balding hair  and the half deaf right ear  that is a bit worn. Otherwise I still am handsome.. I told myself silently. Tucking in my tummy, I asked her “so what do you plan to do???”

“What is there to do? I will be with him as long as he likes me. You see, he has many girl friends and it must be tough for him to remember me at times unless I go to him.”

I was thunderstruck. This woman, this impenetrable mountain of resistance to all the manly charm I could ever muster throughout my life, she is pining so openly for a boy friend who merrily dallies with his other girl friends while she pines for him??? And to think I don't have even one girl friend !! 

I have heard about the seven year itch! But a 22 year itch???  Just my luck!!!

Silently I turned away, shoulders drooping, and went off to take my bath. Office is waiting, I thought. At least my files wont let me down. Lemme get to them. So what if it is a Saturday ?

“Will you come with me to the bank, please?. We have something to attend to there. Also pick up some groceries.”

Oh! So that was it! She was eager to flaunt her boyfriend in front of my eyes!!!! I remembered her telling he hangs around some bank. I sunk deeper into self-pity! But still I could not refuse her wish. I have never refused a single wish of hers, ever. Gloomily I changed and went down. “ Glorified Driver", I muttered to myself.

He must be a bank thief,  I gloated darkly. Wait till she finds out the real him!!!  Then I will laugh the last hahahah!!!

I slowed down near HDFC. She asked me to go ahead to ICICI. All the time her eyes were searching. Looked like she could not find him. Hehehe I told myself . Maybe he has emigrated to Dubai!!!

Next day, early morning, I set aside my moans and woke up before her. Dusted out the long unused jeans and tee shirt, wore the stiff jogging shoes. She came out, all dressed up in her new track suit, hair tied in a ponytail, and looking every bit the girl I fell for in college  and not a Mom of two grown up kids. Definitely not the wife of an old balding fat dude like me , I thought glumly L

“Come, lets go to your gym”, I said. “I can do with that walk I have been wanting to take.”

She gave me a look as if I was a Martian stranded in Venus. “High time you did..she muttered. More than two years since you last saw the sunrise.”

We went out. The early morning darkness was just fading, and the road was empty save for a few walkers. All seemed to enjoy, dedicatedly thrashing away the remnants of sleep and the vagaries of vagabond nights on their bodies.

All of a sudden, her face lit up as with a thousand suns! Or so it seemed to me. There he is!!  She exclaimed delightedly. The happiness  was so infectious I forgot to sulk and eagerly looked in the direction she was beaming at.

And instantly fell in love with her boy friend!!!!

See him below, as I met him first. In all his glory.

For Her version, click here

Memories...memories...

They sustain me through my lonely moments

They torment me endless at times

They make my dreams sweeter  my life brighter

They make me love  they make me hate

They feed on me and I thrive on them

Memories of my childhood bring a smile on my lips

Memories of lost fights make me bristle

Memories of my first kiss make me yearn to see her

Memories of the first ever feeling of lust

Memories of dark and dank days when life was miserable

Memories of my dad who passed away

Memories of school, of college, of  my many friends

Memories of games played and riotous times

Memories of my first job, my first salary

Memories of the time when she said “YES” !!!!!

Memories!!!

They have made me  what I am today,

They still keep adding on

Years from now I think I will sit back and

Remember that I wrote this from memory

Will I smile? or will I frown?

Hope my memory holds fast  for ever!!!!!

The last two weeks have been quite hectic on the professional front. After being re-located to Kuala Lumpur and having assumed charge, it has been a series of meetings with clients and contractors dealing with the myriad issues and requirements all major projects are inherently associated with.

In all these meetings, I rely heavily on my memory, which has been often acclaimed by colleagues to be quite good.

In one of my earlier assignments, after two or three meetings with the client, my chairman tactfully hinted that I should consider carrying a notepad  to impress the feelings of clients that I am serious in my task!!!  It seemed that no one could accept that I could talk from memory on the various aspects of the project!!!

I started carrying the book/laptop, but other than doodle on it, there has been nothing noted of worth !

Learning to recite the arithmetic tables by rote in class 4 is the oldest memory I have of consciously trying to memorise data. I still remember how I used to stand in front of dad and chant the tables, hoping to get them right first time so that I could get a release and get back to my playmates.

Thinking back, I feel that exercise was a very good grounding for forming the process of association by numbers, between numbers and to numbers of the umpteen facts, figures and data that are stored in my mind, as is the case with all humans. Each one of us may be having a unique mind process by which it stores what needs to be. The recall from such stored memory is what makes each one of us different from the rest. I may recall  data by association with some preferred numbers, while someone else may do so by simply recalling a key word  which associates with a specific watershed experience.

Telephone numbers are my particular favourite. I remember almost all the numbers I use frequently. Obviously it is the repetitive recall  which makes it more firmly entrenched in the memory bank while frequency of use makes the recall times very short.

The present age of Internet and its associated features like e-mail, e-banking and a horde of other facilities, require the user to have a password. I have about 7 email accounts,  three bank accounts and some other sites which require me to have passwords.

Though I have a unique password for each of these, remembering each is not a difficult task, since I have formed a process of association between functions of each account, parts of human anatomy and one specifically linked  landmark event in my life, to make the passwords as well as the recall route.

In all probability, a second person would fail to see any rhyme or reason in my association of thoughts. It is such absence of logic  to all except me that makes it secure to be a password.

I am not a music buff at all. Of course I do enjoy some songs that catch my fancy. I can recall the lyrics of my most favourite songs word by word, but I would not be able to explain how I do it. Must be the fact that I like those songs, so I remember the words. No fancy association of ideas or thought process there!!  Just plain liking for the words and/or melody, so I remember.

Jokes are something I can never recall when needed. Occasionally, at parties when people are cracking jokes left, right and centre I find myself tongue tied because I can’t remember any. Not that I don’t get to hear jokes. I do. I also get a lot of forwards that make me howl with laughter, but I read, I laugh and promptly forget everything about it!!  Wish I could remember more jokes.

Shopping lists given by my wife are something I always remember! Though I don’t write them down, till date I have an above average record of buying all that has been asked for, without the assistance of a shopping list.  The ability for remembering shopping lists  comes easily to me, the reason being so very obvious, what with the originator being my wife !!

Time was, when I could remember long stretches of prose verbatim. Some word processing and association through key words in my mind enabled me to recollect with ease. It definitely helped me in the oh so boring social studies and other prose oriented subjects, wherein the exams required students to be able to remember and reproduce long passages on their exam sheets.

I distinctly recall one nursery rhyme that set me on the path of memorizing by association of words and ideas. Each line in this rhyme had an association to the next, and once you get the hang of it, remembering the rhyme was quite easy.

I reproduce the rhyme below.

This is the house.

This is the house that Jack built.

This is the mouse that lay in the house.

This is the mouse that lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the rat that ate the mouse.

This is the rat that ate the mouse that lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cat that killed the rat.

This is the cat that killed the rat that ate the mouse that lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the dog that worried the cat.

This is the dog that worried the cat that killed the rat that ate the mouse that lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cow with the crumpled horn.

This is the cow with the crumpled horn that tossed the dog that worried the cat that killed the rat that ate the mouse that lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the maid who is all forlorn.

This is the maid who is all forlorn that milked the cow with the crumpled horn that tossed the dog that worried the cat that killed the rat that ate the mouse that lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the man all shattered and torn.

This is the man all shattered and torn that kissed the maid who is all forlorn that milked the cow with the crumpled horn that tossed the dog that worried the cat that killed the rat that ate the mouse that lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the priest all shaven and shorn.

This is the priest all shaven and shorn that married the man all shattered and torn that kissed the maid who is all forlorn that milked the cow with the crumpled horn that tossed the dog that worried the cat that killed the rat that ate the mouse that lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cock that crowed in the morn.

This is the cock that crowed in the morn that woke the priest all shaven and shorn that married the man all shattered and torn that kissed the maid who is all forlorn that milked the cow with the crumpled horn that tossed the dog that worried the cat that killed the rat that ate the mouse that lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the farmer that sowed the corn.

This is the farmer that sowed the corn that kept the cock that crowed in the morn that woke the priest all shaven and shorn that married the man all shattered and torn that kissed the maid who is all forlorn that milked the cow with the crumpled horn that tossed the dog that worried the cat that killed the rat that ate the mouse that lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the house and the horse and the cart.

This is the house and the horse and the cart that belongs to the farmer that sowed the corn that kept the cock that crowed in the morn that woke the priest all shaven and shorn that married the man all shattered and torn that kissed the maid who is all forlorn that milked the cow with the crumpled horn that tossed the dog that worried the cat that killed the rat that ate the mouse that lay in the house that Jack built.

Simple enough, one would say! (Do try memorising and see how you fare!!) I still  have the vivid images of a dog sailing through the air, with an ill tempered cow standing by, and a maid waiting to milk it while the tramp seeks blessings from the priest in the nearby church...

Over the years I have made use of this simple ditty  as an exercise in memory tasks, and nine times out of ten, grown adults have failed to see or form a pattern in the lines.

Along with my daily dose of Sudoku, Crosswords and other mental exercises , I recite the above as well. If nothing, I relax  mentally during these very private sessions in the morning, mostly during my walks.

While on this, I see fit to mention the relevance of chanting of prayers or religious passages by rote in ones mind, as an exercise in calming oneself. I do this every day and feel that it has benefited me by way of my being able to calm myself  when I am agitated at something during the course of the day. I just take 2 mins off mentally and chant to myself.

While on long drives, chanting of hymns or even rhymes or ditties help me focus on the road by not taking my mind away to more serious or  emotion charged thoughts. I may not have explained it very well here, but the feeling is very real and the benefits I reap from this simple practice, considerable.

The human mind is a very remarkable thing. It can be at its best one moment and sink to utter immobility in the next. How we keep it active and engaged in fruitful  pursuits is up to each one of us.

A good memory is an asset. Nurture it, engage in activities meant to stimulate the brain and mind, have a fruitful life.

Best wishes to all.

This day, decades back, something happened.

This day, decades back, something else happened.

May 17^th.

It is the all important day in my life, every year.

A little girl was born….as the middle one, to parents who went on to have two girls and a boy, he being the youngest.

Over the years she grew up, a hardy little girl, imbibing the very best of values in life.

She grew up to be a wonderful soul.

She grew up to be an accomplished woman.

She grew up to be a cook par excellence.

She also studied to be an engineer and went on to become a very efficient one.

She married, and went on to give birth to two souls.

She grew up to be a complete mother.

Today her children are on the threshold of making their own families, and poised to start very successful lives of their own, thanks to her tireless efforts, guidance and love.

Her husband is a successful man, and this success, without her support and sacrifices would have remained just a dream.

She had a tough life , she overcame that.

She faced disappointments, but she never lost her focus.

She was hurt by trusted and loved ones, but she never hated anyone.

She married, and is now the pillar of her husband’s family too.

I am immensely proud  to say

I am her husband J

I owe everything to her.

She is the one who, despite knowing what sacrifices she would have to make, made a conscious decision that brought me out of gloom at a critical moment in my career and set me on a path  which resulted in my success today.

She is my strength, she is my inspiration.

Countless sacrifices, innumerable instances where I have hurt her, yet a love and faith that never falters…that is her…

I wish my wife a very happy birthday. May God bless you.

I love you.

This day, decades back, the most important part of my life was born. My wife was born….

This day, decades back, another most important part of my life ceased to be….. my father expired….

I celebrate the birthday.

I am sure my father too would wish that!!!!! He never saw her. He would have loved his daughter-in-law.

We pray for you, dad……come, lets celebrate this birthday.

Cricket is a passion that drives our nation. Wise men behave like completely askew screws, enemies turn friends over a shared monitor, the femmes mostly resign themselves to a period of interactions with their males whose mental state range from the idiotic to the fanatic....  and what not.

I have come across various takes on Cricket.

However, recently I got a forward which sees cricket and cricketers in a whole new light!!!

The lines below are NOT my original creation. I got these as a forward from one of my friends and I am unaware of the source. Whoever the creator, the copyright remains safe with him/her.

Please read on....

Never trust a cricketer, whoever he may be!

Come all ye fair young maidens, and harken unto me,

Never trust a cricketer, whoever he may be!

Randier than a sailor who's been six months at sea.

Never let a cricketer's hand an inch above your knee.

First let's take the paceman, pure speed from first to last,

My darlings do be careful; his balls are hard and fast.

Then there's the medium pacer, his balls swing either way.

He's really most persistent and can keep it up all day.

So ladies, do be careful - your mothers would agree...

Never trust a cricketer-whoever he may be.

And watch for the off-spinner, girls, another awkward chap,

If you leave him half an opening, he will slip one through the gap.

Then there's the Wiley 'slowy' pure cunning is his strength,

He'll tempt you, then he'll trap you, with his very subtle length.

And what about the opening bat, his struggles never cease,

He has only one ambition, to spend all day at the crease.

The number three's a dasher, he seldom prods and pokes,

When he goes into action, he has a fine array of strokes.

So ladies, do be careful - your mothers would agree...

Never trust a cricketer-whoever he may be.

And do beware the slogger - not content with one or two,

When he arrives at the crease then only six will do.

Then there's the real stonewaller, girls, he knows what he's about,

And if you let him settle in, it's hard to get him out.

We come now to the last man in, I hope this will not shock,

He doesn't mind if he's last man in - as long as he gets a knock!

So, darlings, do be careful-and be well warned by me,

Never trust a cricketer- whoever he may be.

And watch the wicket keeper, girls; he's full of flair and dash,

And if you raise your heel, he'll whip'em off in a flash.

If you take the field, with the captain, you had better know the score

or he'll have you in positions that you never knew before.

So ladies, do be careful - your mothers would agree...

Never trust a cricketer-whoever he may be.

The cricket commentator is a nasty sort of bloke,

He watches all the action and describes it stroke by stroke.

Even the kindly umpire - though he looks friendly as a pup,

You'll quickly find you've had it, when he puts his finger up.

So, Darlings please remember ~ repeat it after me...

!!!!NEVER TRUST A CRICKETER - WHOEVER HE MAY BE!!!!!

I was amused to read recently an article by Shashi Tharoor who expounds a theory of engineers being prone to terrorizing behaviour. He also makes out a case for all engineers to compulsorily undergo a course in Humanities, so that such souls will become more compassionate and less terrorist minded.

I have scanned the article ( Sunday Times, date - sometime in March 2008) and posted as a photo here. Hope the readers can see it.

He has based his observations on a recent research by two obscure sociologists from Oxford University, who did a study on the prevalence of engineers among the known terrorists identified by many agencies.

While I am far far removed from that world of blood and gore, I do take exception to two wannabe experts espousing their half baked efforts at research, as something of gospel truth. Detailed analysis of their sample for the study itself will show how ignorant they are of engineering and I would daresay, ignorant of how to read men per se.

It is a natural and logical fact that anyone who has to do something related to engineering skills have to have some education in engineering.

It does not mean that anyone who has educated himself in foreign affairs  or humanities rules him out from being a terrorist!

I perceived a shockingly high level of immaturity on the part of ST to expound such half baked theories in his column, and