Patience

You wish there was some way to calm your mind
Slow your heart
Take a deep breath and sigh

You wish there was some way to erase your thoughts, your emotions
Just for a little while
So that the bliss you seek, you may find

Then you wish you could undo it all again, only to restart.. Calm mind, slow heart, deep breath and clear thoughts... then bliss...

Midnight...

Jab jab dard ka baadal chhaya
Jab gham ka saya lehraaya
Jab aansoon palkon tak aaya
Jab yeh tanha dil ghabraaya
Hum ne dil ko yeh samjhaya
Dil aakhi tu kyun rota hai?
Duniya mein yun hi hota hai
Yeh jo gehre sannate hain
Waqt ne sabko hi baante hain
Thoda gham hai sabka qissa
Thodi dhoop hai sabka hissa
Aankhj teri bekaar hi nam hai
Har pal ek naya mausam hai
Kyun tu aise pal khota hai
Dil aakhir tu kyun rota hai

It's hard not to pick up your phone and call when you want to...

Blue, with no cloud cover

A return to blogging after a brief hiatus (time is all about perspective – one man's brief is another's lifetime… Please, no puns on undergarments and changing time to line) is never easy. Primarily because it means returning to creativity in one of its most meaningful forms and that is something I find daunting. Not because I feel I could never do it, but because I'm afraid I cannot any longer. The creative part of my work life is limited to fancy boxes and charts on PowerPoint presentations. Poetic license is shunned, and rightly so, in favor of economy of speech and brevity of disclosure. I prefer this to jargons being bandied about, mainly because I don't get most of the them as they make no sense and the ones that I do understand are not relevant in the contexts they are used. It may be that school is not cool, but trying to be cool with "buzzwords" (say that with a French accent, it's infinitely funnier) is not the way to go either.

However, and by a curious coincidence, a recent exercise at work required me to flex the thus far hidden creative section of the grey matter, and it suffices to say that I totally stunk up the place. By virtue of being almost PowerPoint exclusive, my ability to be brief reached such new levels of efficiency that I was more adept at using 10 words to describe an event that could equally be described in 20 words. Now, this may be confusing, but I challenge you, especially those who spend their lives paraphrasing and summarizing, to engage in the exact opposite. Things that were second nature to you in high school suddenly become not so second nature – my description of the sky on a typical, non-Middle Eastern summer's day, would be "Blue, with no cloud cover". In high school, I would be encouraged to write "A clear, cloudless sky of light blue punctuated with the chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves". Brevity deems that birds and trees do not explain the sky, but it also dictates that the description could be of any bloody day in the year that wasn't cloudy.

So I return to blogging in the vain attempt to reconnect with a past that allowed me to write with a semblance of creativity, certainly better than "Blue, with no cloud cover", all the while ensuring that I refrain from work related rants and exposés. The latter is easy – I think I enjoy my job sufficiently to rant in speech rather than the written word; the former, not so. However, just because it is not easy, let it not be an obstacle to the endeavor – I shall try my best to prove, that the pen is indeed mightier than the sword, punctuated with thousand-word pictures along the way (See what I did there – I replaced jargons with idioms <<insert cool look>>).

In the effort to return back to what it was, the blogging experience should be about moving forward, both in context and content. It is in the shower, the birthplace of all great and good ideas, where I've come to realize that I may have spent a significant portion of my "me-time" over the past five years looking back. I've re-read a significant number of books and re-watched a significant number of TV shows that I had already re-read and re-watched a significant number of times before. Having a personal and digital library (both books and video) has benefits, but they should come with a disclaimer. If you do not add to either, you may be left poorer for the experience. And add I shall, slowly at first and more to the books section rather than the video. I've not always been a fan of TV and it takes a good show, such as the newly commenced Newsroom with Jeff Daniel (who continues to surprise me), to really draw me to it. I hope that it remains this way. However, I hope not to return to things or experiences that are cozy to me, but make a significant move to embracing new experiences and perhaps enjoying more things in life than I've done so in the recent past.

It may be that I blog in fits and spurts, it may be that I blog regularly. I do not know, but in this case, the good thing about me not knowing is that no one else is left at the edge of a cliff. I've not written in years, so I do not think anyone has missed it. However, if you have, I sincerely thank you for your patience – I perhaps do not deserve it, but more importantly, a simple thank you may never be enough to show my gratitude.

New readers, welcome; old hands, welcome back. And if nobody reads this, I shall stoically console myself with an old Chinese saying: "If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, has it really fallen?"

I usually embed lyrics in my posts – lyrics that hold meaning to me and are relevant to the topic. I cannot lay claim to the creation of the lines below; that belongs to Mr. Frank Sinatra

"Blue skies, smilin' at me

Nothin' but blues skies do I see

Bluebirds singing a song

Nothin' but bluebirds all day long

Never saw the sun shinin' so bright

Never saw things goin' so right

Noticin' the days hurrying by

When you're in love, my how they fly"

Clearly, he had a better professional life than I did...

Onwards and upwards, as they say…             

Quote of the year

"It's like comparing Apples with CAMELS!"

Say it in a 60 year-old French man's voice, and you'll understand why some days are just worth it at work...

My Darling... where art thou?

As opposed to being the year of the rat, 2008 might as well be the year of the dog/bitch and every other animal that is a metaphorical representation of getting screwed over.

The Bears couldn't handle the Stearn tests of credit markets and were the first to topple over, only to be rescued by nickel-and-Dim(e)on, Jamie (no, I didn't sit down and think about that...It just came to me...). Lehman's Brothers-in-arms weren't of much help either, but Hank's a-Paul(son)-ing mistake was along the lines of a Shakespearean tragedy for the financial markets. Letting them fail could perhaps be one of the worst "let market dynamics take over" decisions that any person could ever take. Merrill's bullherd followed soon, with BofA being benevolent enough to snap up a financial monstrosity on the cheap and beef up their presence. So, from the big 5, we were left with 2 pillars standing amongst the ruins... but not for long... Goldman and Morgan have bailed out of the solely Investment Banking model, leaving a once proud industry in tatters in the space of 14 months... With due respect to the people of New Orleans, Hurricane Katrina couldn't have created as much damage.

Governments have denied recession, then, rather than acknowledging it openly, quickly did a u-turn and have decided to combat it. Funny old game, politics is. A much maligned ex-Chancellor of the Exchequer-turned PM rose to be the savior of the Eurozone for all of one week, before optimism waned and pessimism took over... and hasn't let gone still. Black gold hit the highs of the Himalayas and now is camped somewhere at the foothills of Jebal Al Dukkan (I've lived in Bahrain long enough to know its exact dimensions). Biggie sang about Mo Money, Mo Problems, but it's now a case of no money, mo problems...

So all is bad, nothing is good. We are still living, and learning, but living nonetheless. And from the ashes of this somber mood comes the following conversation (well, actually, it didn't. It happened one morning when we bother were bored, but I think I had a more dramatic version going):

Interesting tidbit when chatting with a Twenty-something-person With Interesting Trysts (TWIT) (see, I can come up with acronyms too)

TWIT: Sara Suhail has requested to add the tag:
my darling....Simmu
Would you like to approve this tag request? (Facebook talk)

me: umm...simmu?

TWIT: someone who only [Edit:a common friend] knows... why do i get all these random people sending me even more random things?

her darling

me: ...

TWIT: and it's a pic of [Edit: Another common friend] going on stage with a bunch of ladies/girls

me: ah?

TWIT: so i can't tell WHO has been tagged

me: hehe

okay

TWIT: in any case, i'm ignoring it because it'll look like simmu is *my* darling

if i accept the tag

me: LOL

:D

TWIT: what?

i'm serious

me: yes yes

i know

TWIT: i wasn't saying it to be funny

me: it just was :)

TWIT: You have ignored a photo tag of my darling....Simmu.

ugh, it looks stupid in rejection too

me: hehehehehe

i'm sorry

this is an amusing turn of conversation

Looks like it's not a cheery season in the Simmu household. Why reject the feelings of someone? I'm sure Simmu is sitting in some corner, heartbroken and wondering what to do with life now that her tag has been rejected.

In other news, following his blogpost, I decided to go check out what I would be.

Get Your Cyborg Name

Apparently, I am *clearing throat and in an Arnie impression* A TERMINATOR! Affirmative! There's a kid who needs to be saved, so I should suck my belly in, don my shades and leather jacket, commandeer a Harley, and be on my way. No Problemo!

And keeping with the movie theme, a new year is upon us, so I'll leave you with what Humphrey Bogart said to Ingrid Bergman... "Here's lookin' at you, kid"... maybe things won't be so bad after all...

Hastalavista... baby....

Answering her Unanswerables

Eyes wide open- Travis

All these visions in my head
shoot the gunner baby for the watershed
some are live and some are dead
makes no diferrence when they're in your head...head

Keep the door open a crack
so I can see then when they attack
some are white and some are black
makes no difference when they're on your back

And I can't stop crying
And I can't stop trying
'Cause the day is dying...dying...dying
With my eyes wide open

Kept the sheep jumping the fence
so I can see teepers when I'm feeling tense
disbelieve hung in suspense
I die down with my own defense

And I can't stop crying
And I can't stop trying
'Cause the day is dying...dying...dying
With my eyes wide open

All these visions in my head
shoot the gunner baby for the watershed
some are live and some are dead
makes no difference when they're in your head

And I can't stop crying
And I can't stop trying
'Cause the day is dying...dying...dying
With my eyes wide open

So, I was randomly going through Her blog and found this post, so I've decided to respond... why? I don't know... let's put this in the 'searching for life's answers' category, shall we?

1) People weren’t thinking, were they? But, it’s like a fad… things run their course. It’ll probably be the same with the yuppie look, and it’s the same with ladies, come to think of it. In the 50’s and 60’s, wide hips were indicative of sexuality. Now it’s the hour glass figure where hips are narrow (or not as broad).

2) Well, human beings are inherently incapable of satisfaction. So it’s not humanly possible, but it is possible. You just have to be a dog that has his bone and a scratch on the head, or are dead… I guess that’s eternal satisfaction (unless you’re Hindu…)

3) No, they’re not. They never were, and neither is her 6-pack. It must be a Jackson trait… they might even use the same surgeon… something like a family discount.

4) A good parent realizes that they are not wardens, and don’t own their children. It has to be a relationship, much like between a man and a woman. The rest then falls in place neatly. Then again, good is defined by whose standards? The child? Or the parent? Again, rather subjective, but I guess the first sentence would hold in either case.

5) Hindus believe in hell because that’s where the Rakshas’ emerged from, and apparently Sri Lanka is the gateway to hell. Don’t tell Mafaz that. They don’t believe that sinners go there, but they believe evil emanates from there (much like Lucipher and the fallen angel story). And that’s where Rakshas’ go back when they are banished. So, I guess the story is for them, and recited to us because they ran out of other stories. You want to tell Mafaz now, don’t you? (If you don't know Mafaz, the joke is lost on you)

6) Hmmm… now, that’s wishful thinking. Depends on his diet, his addiction to booze, and his general lifestyle. Sean Connery had the added advantage of being the sexiest man on the planet, so he had vested interest in keeping up that image.

7) This is a classic “grass is greener on the other side” example. The western world is more acceptable of casual sex. Indians, for the very large majority, are still frigid and actually do it missionary style. So anyone who doesn’t is either a sex goddess or a hussy like Bridget Jones. In the US, they all like variety, and enviously glance at our sculptures and wish they were immortalized for sexual acts. If they keep it up, they just might.

8) The Gods tempt us only to deceive. Pairs are never meant to be together, not the least when you’re in a rush. Something about paying for a lack of organization. Now, this begs the question: when were you in a rush to don your panty hose?

9) Simple: take the average IQ of all the men in the world.

10)She has fans?

11)Again, this is rather related to the whole stereotype of men/women and being confident. Broad shoulders are taken as a sign of an assertive personality, and someone who’ll be taken seriously. Now, naturally, women aren’t gifted with the broad physique (for the majority), so enhancements of the non-permanent nature were devised as a welcome solution.

12)If gay was okay, and straight was not, it wouldn’t be categorized as such, would it? See, being straight derives from normal sexual preference, but normal sexual preference is being homosexual, not attracted to the opposite sex. So, you would actually be straight, and being gay would then be falling in love with the opposite sex. You would still be a taboo, for most societies. It would make procreation a problem though, a very serious one.

13)No they didn’t. Else, they would’ve cremated and carried their secrets with them into non-existence. (It normally would be taking it to their grave, but that’s the issue, isn’t it?). I don’t think we’re that sophisticated or advanced. Everyone knows everything about everyone else, so no need to really exhume people for the heck of it.

14)Okay, so this is an unanswerable. I could tell you what dogs are thinking of though, not cats.

15)More sensitive nerve endings and more twitch muscles. Normally, if you work out a lot and build muscle (tonic muscle) or grow fat, you lose that sensitivity. Also, developing a good sucker punch generally puts rest to you being the example of ticklishness. If you believe all that, man alive, you deserve to be conned. If I am correct about all that, man alive... I should get an award.

16)Stress, strain and a generally depressing life. T.V. shows violence, people have lots of skeletons in several closets, George Bush is a powerful man… the list is endless. So being depressed is the in thing, nay, the only thing. Plus, apparently, neon lights have a big role to play. The brightness stunts brain development and makes people more irritable. Something to chew on…

17)Hmmm… the female form is more attractive. Two of them, doubly attractive. Three of them… you see where this is going? Penises are not as attractive as breasts. They hang, shrunken and shriveled up, and have to be kick started (not literally, please) to get to work.

18)Because Cassius Clay just doesn’t ring the same bell, does it? Nom de plumes are what people know you by. Rajeev Bhatia is a very popular Hindi film actor. And he goes by another name. Let me know if you figure out who he is.

19)Yes, actually. Put an ice cube there, with your mouth on it, and you’ll reap the benefits over the next 40-50 minutes.

20)A misnomer. They’re not French; they’re Belgian (apparently). One more reason for them to start bickering. It’ll keep the UN in that part of the world busy at least. They seem to have very little to do in either area. And the name came because people in the US can’t describe stuff, so they say fried potato pieces by the Belgian as French fried food, or French fries.

21)Unchained melody is actually a song for an obscure film called Unchained. Deep meanings, huh?

22)The exact opposite of a black hole, with no event horizon. That’s all I understand of it. For more reference, maybe I should introduce you to Wikipedia. Then again, maybe I don’t need to

23)I don’t know about that one. George Bush would be murdered, not assassinated… even though he’s supposedly important. I guess if people give a damn about you, that should matter more than fame.

24)They probably don’t… don’t think they have the same reflex response as other creatures. Puppies sneeze… they sound cute when they do. And they look lost as well.

25)That criminal genius would be the Saharan African tribesman who wore it for easy maneuverability when hunting. Also, the women liked seeing their men’s buns hanging out. Turned them on or something

So, there you have it... 24/25 answered. Not bad, if I say so myself. Which I do. While I bid thee goodbye, I shall pat myself on the back for this accomplishment.

Edit: Houseism:

Cuddy: You think I want the cameras? You think I want the whole world watching you check out my ass... question my wardrobe?

House: Would it be better if I checked out your wardrobe and questioned your ass?

Epiphany... behind the wheel...

Glorious Day- Embrace

Who could send something so pure to lure me away
I fought the last of my breath
But you came along on a glorious day
By the time that you left I was crawling again
Yeah you came along on a glorious day
Now I want you to save me again

Ooh oooh ohhh

The fire that they said would burn just lights up the way
I lie in the place where I fell
And three years on this nine day wonder won't go away
Till you bring an end to my hell

But you came along on a glorious day
By the time that you left I was crawling again
Yeah you came along on a glorious day
Now I want you to save me again

Let them all keep their plans
Cos all I want is in my hands
And I can't look down
Back then I had it all, now I want it back that's all
And I can't get out

Ooh oooh ohhh

You came along, on a glorious day
By the time that you left
I was crawling again
Yeah you came along on a glorious day
Now I want you to save me again
Now I want you to save me again
Now I want you to save me again

I was driving the other day and I heard Joan Osbourne mournfully dole out If God was one of us and it got me thinking...

If God had a name, what would it be? And would you call it to his face if you were faced with him in all his glory? What would you ask if you had just one question? (These are the opening lyrics of the song, not my questions...).

Interesting, isn't it?