"The Happy Prince"

The day started off with a bang! Literally! There was a loud sound and the electricity supply went off. I was surprised, even when there was the “revolution” going on, the water supply and the electricity had never ditched us –so what happened today?

The intelligent teenager went to check if the lift was working (saves the energy to check if the supply had tripped as this entailed going to the box; opening it and peering at all the switches!) and it wasn’t.

There was breakfast to make; the kitchen was dark; the hunt for candles ensued; not finding any I picked up some tea candles and put it on a stand and made breakfast (Thank God! The gas supply was intact!) In fact I had rejected a lovely sea facing house because it had only electric burners, kudos to my farsightedness!

Normally the electricity is very well behaved in our area and I was sure it would soon be back. Bur breakfast got over and there was no sign of it reviving, so the lazy adolescent and her father started on their way to their place of duty via the good old staircase from the tenth floor! I wondered how and when my maid would turn up and shut the door a little worried. But there was still an hour before she was due.

I suddenly realized with horror that there would be no internet- how would I check my mail, my blog, my bank accounts and my game sites? (My normal activities till my maid turns up). Oh well, the I-pad was there and I had my books on it. After clearing up, I sat down to read my books which I had downloaded. Then horror of horrors! I had actually deleted them the day before and had not put in any new ones- what would I do? I didn’t want to knit neither to stitch nor to clear up or anything worthwhile for that matter; this particular hour was given for my leisure, so I stubbornly didn’t want to do anything productive! I then fiddled around with the pad, played with “talking tom”, “finger scan” and the Smurfs- still I felt restless(the finger scan had said I was restless!) so I opened the library folder and decided to read “The happy Prince and other stories” by Oscar Wilde.

I had first read this when I was in third standard under duress (I still remember Miss Angela!) and then again in the sixth standard because I wanted to illustrate some essay and this was the third time after thirty years that I was delving into this book!

I loved it! The sarcasm and irony which Oscar Wilde has so cunningly hidden into each of his sentence were so transparent and obvious to me now. The seemingly black and white narrative of the good and the bad so wonderfully utilized the shades and shadows to express all facets of the human character was so brilliant that it struck me like a slap on my face and woke me up.

All of us put up some kind of facade not so much to hide our faults but to actually protect ourselves from the harsh realities of life. Once the gilt has been removed we are all alike, ordinary to look at; with a desire for shelter, food and clothing; with goodness within us and to be accepted by God (or the unknown creator). Like the Happy Prince most of us lead sheltered lives within high walls of our palace and when we realize that there is more to life than the pursuit of happiness it is normally too late! We are not living in a fairy tale world where we can help others in their pursuit of happiness even after death.*

I continued reading the other stories “The devoted friend” was hilarious and the “Little rocket” was such a wonderful caricature of many pompous people that we know of. I started putting people I know into folders titled as such in my mind! I was being a little wicked; but how can you appreciate goodness if there is no evil to compare it with!

The realization that I had almost everything I desired yet the small scar of discontentment always itched and took away my peace for the most trivial of reasons shook me and I sat pondering on this. I never resolved this to my satisfaction......

The maid came huffing and puffing up the stairs and I got back into my daily routine forgetting Oscar Wilde and the fact that my Blog’s name has been derived from one of his famous books. The electricity came back and I was once again on the path of searching for pure pleasure........

*there have been great men who through their writings have inspired many even after death; many who have donated their organs and given a chance of life and happiness to others but they are few and far between!

Birthday Celebrations

"What are you giving me for my birthday?", We had been hearing this from our second born almost two months from the actually date! She was supposed to be turning fourteen but behaved like a six year old!There were debates about whether she should have a party at home; a party in a restaurant or no party at all. Believe me for a person who was fourteen many years ago it was confusing to say the least. I couldn't understand why she couldn't be consistent in her desires!

What I remember of my birthdays is that Parents bought you new clothes and whatever you wanted (there was a financial limit to this!) and a small party with a cake to cut. Now of course clothes were to be bought not so much for the pleasure of the birthday baby as for the parents! The party and cake are mandatory (the party could be dispensed with if the child so desires!) the most important thing is the GIFT. I remember it was fun to unwrap the gifts with anticipation- it was such a pleasure to get unexpected presents! But now the main (The most expensive gift) had to be discussed, debated, wheedled and bargained for months before the actual day. Normally our great teenager would start talking about the next GIFT at the end of the birthday party,"What will you get me for my next birthday?"


The concept of celebrating birthdays has changed over the years. In India it was a time to go to the temple and get blessed by the Gods; wear new clothes; seek the blessing of all elders by touching their feet; eat a lovely breakfast with all our favorite things- all this was in the morning. In School we would distribute chocolates and stand in front of the class and allow the class to sing "Happy Birthday" in unison - this was the only day we were allowed to wear "civil dress"to school! The evening was solely devoted to a party and later to opening the presents and then to blissful slumber till the next birthday came up.

Now of course the idea of temple visits have all but disappeared; you have to be prodded by the mother to go and seek the elder's blessings; morning is to cut the cake hurriedly as its getting late for school- though the school celebration remains more or less the same- the evening party is no longer the simple party we used to have; it is organized either professionally or amateurishly with the right background so that it looks good in the photos and videos! The child is of course dressed in the most expensive clothes possible and behaving like a young lady or gentleman! The gifts they receive are much more expensive than we ever did, though the pleasure of opening gifts is still there!

One would think that the onus on the parents have reduced to some extent but no! the planning of the menu; the buying of the return gifts; the making of the guest list, all take a small degree in management to get through (In fact I would advice all young mothers and to be ones, to take a short course in event management) In large cities birthday parties are big business. Old fashioned people like me still like to do it at home and have got away with it most of the time but I suppose the newer mums are in for it!

This transition from the Indian to the western way of festivities are a little worrying. We have rich culture, so a lot of wonderful festivals. I don't think we need to add to them like all the "DAYS" that have been added to by "The Archie's" brand for their own sales! I suppose it is easier to celebrate today's galas than our pujas and festivals which require enthusiasm, preparation and lots of time. In the days of instant coffee and fast food its better to celebrate instant days!

The sound of theTram

Amidst the excitement of what has been happening in Egypt for the last eighteen days I have been garnering material to teach myself the most important lessons of life. There was a lot of activity. First the disbelieve that anything important would come out of the movement, then the move to the guest house for a week not so much because we felt unsafe but to save Junu the forty five minutes drive to and fro from the work place and of course to appease the apprehensions of the two sets of parents back in India! Next was coming back home and waiting for something to happen and then the wonder and excitement of a historic moment.

As I have mentioned in my other blog post that I had been a witness to the violence that preceded the revolution, what I had not mentioned is that I was on a darkened balcony of our tenth floor apartment! The couple of days that followed is when I discovered that one can live without the internet (At that time I felt frustrated :))

In fact I used to spend watching TV and knitting and keep my hands occupied!(My hands were missing the keyboard)Normally the family has fun spending their lives in front of their own private LCD screens! But now Mubarak made sure we sat together in front of a common LCD and did things together! We discussed History, Politics and aired and argued for our views and did what I as a pre-internet era child used to do! We even had cups of tea with Mickey (She got out of drinking her two cups of milk daily!) I jumped every time the bell rang; peered through the keyhole only to see either our maid or the laundry man outside!

When we decided to shift to the guest house till all was back to normal, I didn't want to leave my sea view and naturally lighted apartment. It was a different experience in the guest house- I finished a lot of my knitting; read books; met a lot of people; aired my views and DID NOT COOK! quite a good holiday in fact. By the end of the week I wanted to cook! ( I cannot believe it even now!)

We were soon back home; I luxuriated in my own space for the first half an hour; If I had been a dog I would have rolled on the floor! After that we went for a small walk to San Stefano to get Mickey a Mac D! She was desperate for something non-veg after a week of vegetarian food! The curfew was set to start at seven and it was already six twenty! So we rushed to get it and managed to do so! There was ten minutes left as we approached the tram line and the tram chugged past us slowly and I was impatient to be back before the dead line. The tram was full of people all trying to be back before the time limit and it stopped let a car pass and I was already jumping out of my skin!

When we did reach home with minutes to spare I realized that the tram I was so irritated with had been a symbol of normalcy in my mind all through the days of revolution. I remember asking Junu in the initial days whether the tram was running, if it was then my mind was at peace!

When the traffic had stopped for the six  to seven days I could hear the sound of the sea from my bedroom and used to feel contented but it is the sound of the tram that goes unfailingly by at different times of the day that gives me the satisfaction that "the sky is blue; God is smiling; everything is all right with the world!"

The tumult!

When I woke up on 25th January 2011 I had no clue to what would be happening soon. What ensued is there- emblazoned in every newspaper and news channels across the world- I don't think I need to go over it! Anyway I would prefer not to go over it because it will open old wounds of whoever loves this country.

Before I stepped into this city, almost an year ago, I had been apprehensive of living in a new land with a new culture and new language. The moment I entered Alexandria and gazed at the variously shaded Mediterranean, I pushed all the doubts to some dark corner of my mind and got ready to enjoy this phase in my life.

Believe me the months that followed were a travelogue of discovering this lovely land which was so rich in history, beauty and warmth that I almost forgot that I was a foreigner living in an alien land! Wherever I went I was welcomed and appreciated as a person and as an Indian. I never felt stifled or discriminated and assumed that the people were contented and satisfied. In fact I had even commented once that "even the poor in the villages were always smiling and happy in spite of their poverty!" I never ever got a hint of the simmering discontent that must have been brewing even then.

Slowly as I got to know the people and the politics of the country I was introduced to a side of this centuries old nation which I had dubbed as Utopian! Having lived in India and seen repression, corruption and other political whirlpools, the things that these people complained about seemed minor to me and I thought it was just a passing discontentment.

But it wasn't! the volcano burst and the lava of hate and the heat for freedom poured out of Tahrir square and engulfed all that which came in its path! The lovely tree lined avenues, the highways, the buses, the beautiful buildings all burned in the fury of this. The worst was that the economy of this country was breaking into pieces and the contentment that I had seen on the faces of the villagers were wiped out. I saw arson and looting right in front of my eyes and felt helpless that I could not do anything to stop it- for history and beauty were both being destroyed and here I was helpless to do anything to stop it.

It was a sad day when I woke up to see and hear about all the atrocities that were committed by one man against another- for what are we doing this? I refuse to discuss what is right and what is wrong- Who am I to give any kind of judgment?
What I do know is I am not able to go for my walks on the Corniche freely ;what I do know is that I do not smile at the people I meet on the roads; what I do know is that I do not dawdle on the streets admiring the road dividers and the sculptors that dot them; what I do know and see are people hurrying to get back to the safety of their homes with no time to smile or no time to advertise their wonderful country.

I am only a bystander who is a witness to history being created. I know that change is what propels us forward but the change has to be at the right time and place. Yes freedom is an expensive commodity and many lives and property are lost to garner it. But along with freedom which gives us rights comes a lot of responsibilities- if the people are ready for it I wish them all the best- go ahead and get what is your right. But remember to do so in a mature and adult manner for remember to give absolute freedom to a child is to mislead it.........

Crossing The Seven Lanes

The weather here has been more like London than like Alexandria! Its been rainy stormy, drizzly and sunny. So I had not been venturing out, except to warm heated malls for recreation.

A couple of days ago we did go for a brief walk on the Corniche to face the turbulent foamy sea and to let the crashing waves spray a mist on our face. It takes about twenty minutes to reach our favorite place- going through the windy by lanes; going through the subway to cross the busy road and then on to walk by the sea, to reach this rather empty place where one can walk without jostling with people!

Well we proceeded as usual and I wrinkled up my nose as we crossed the subway (to say that I dislike it is an understatement!) and we emerged into the dwindling light to encounter a stranger! The sea which is normally placid at this point was crashing against the concrete walk and rocks that line the walk; it was dark, cloaked in midnight blue trimmed with the fur of foam. It was a dangerous and dark beauty that waited to escort us on our walk! The normally crowded promenade was deserted except for a few cigarette smoking couples and boys.

I was glad of the layers of clothing that enveloped me- the wind swished around my unprotected face and had fun drying my lips and chilling my nose. But it felt good to feel the cold take a generous bite into me; to feel the blood carousing in my veins; to feel that- yes! life was worth it!

As we neared OUR WALK I could hear the sea raging like a wounded lion and I pleasurably anticipated meeting my latest crush (After all absence makes the heart grow fonder!)a couple of weeks back a storm had hit Alex and we had seen the raging sea and the torrential rain from the warmth of the house; never actually believing or wanting to believe the destruction it had wrecked. When we emerged from behind a huge construction machinery it was to see Our path had been destroyed by the enraged sea; it looked as if it had been hit by an earthquake. The concrete path lay miserably wet and broken and our favorite seat was unreachable. I don't know whether it was the wind or the fact that nature could destroy such "strong "constructions so easily that chilled my bones. We did try and sit to feel the caress of the spray but it was too disturbing and we decided to walk back home.

Retuning has always been a bone a contention between us as I always want to cross the highway at that point and go back so that we avoid the subway! I always point out at the youngsters who do so (Forgetting that we are no longer youngsters!)But normally I bow down to the lord and master's wishes and play "better safe than sorry "to the hilt! I was surprised when L&M suggested that we try crossing the seven lanes to go to the other side. I was of course ready (age has not dimmed my adventurous spirit!)We waited till the frequency of the speeding cars zipping past reduced and then hand in hand we crossed the first seven lanes quite easily and we waited on the green divider that looks so beautiful when we drive past them- We balanced and walked on it for some time hoping for the same thing as before but it looked like there was no stopping the cars going back! After a lot of false starts we did manage to cross it ( at one point we were between two lanes of zipping cars). I am sure we would have got dirty looks from all the drivers that had to swerve to miss us but the pounding heart and the tingling nerves were worth it! A lovely excitement in a concrete jungle! Not that I advise anyone to repeat it but I would do it again if I had to!

Life is lot like that! When you have the right hands to hold whether its the seven rounds around the holy fire or the seven ages of man or the seven lanes on the highway - the whole process is an experience worth going through!

The Currency graph

When I woke up to a cold morning today, it was drizzling. I love the cold, feeling energized, (after a long time I had woken up without being prodded!)I went about doing the morning chores as usual but I think with a little spring in my steps(at least in my mind!)

When Junu showed me the beautiful rainbow in the sky over the sea it felt lovely! But as he was behaving like a child who has just seen his first rainbow, I couldn't do the same could I? I maintained a dignified demeanor! I realized later that it had been a waste of an emotion.I mean why can't we let go sometimes and behave in the true manner of our hearts?? Anyway the moment had gone so there is nothing more to say about that.

The new year has begun; A new decade in fact; the last decade has been turbulent to say the least! Not only for me personally but for the world as well. Terrorism has spread and has reincarnated itself like the hydra and we can only go on cutting off its head one at a time to keep it in some semblance of our perspective, when will we reach its immortal head and slay it? Or when will Hercules come and complete this modern task is indeed the question that continues to trouble all of us. But we live on in hope for an non existence Utopia!

Other than indulging in playing games on the computer I have developed a new interest- I keep on checking the dollar to rupees conversion on the net and looking at the squiggly graphs that very miraculously come up at the touch of a tab!I look at the hourly one; the daily one; the monthly one and then the yearly one. I don't know what kind of pleasure it gives me but I do (No explanations for my latest weirdness!)

I just wish there was a tab to check my life's graph and see the ups and downs and based on that, predict the next decade of ups and downs in my life!

Today the graph has peaked whether it's the dollar or me - I leave it for you to figure out!

Happy new year with the hope that every graph peaks (especially the ones related to each one of us) and all the colours of the rainbow amalgamate in our dreams and take us where we desire

The Onion Peel

The concept of existence as an onion has really appealed to me, so I thought I would explore this topic.

I know I am me but I don't know who I was or who I will be! The fact that our likes and dislikes change with time is not a new funda, it's an accepted fact of life but what I am talking about is that if I were to travel back in time to when I was sixteen, I suspect, I would meet a stranger.

Because I have the memory of this lifetime- I remember a young teen who thought that she was right but that no one ever understood her (I think most teens go through this phase!), she was fighting with boys (Mostly verbal but sometimes physical too!) protecting "her weaker girl friends from their predatory boy friends" and trying to excel in everything! (Jack of all trade......)

When I meet the person with the same name ten years later I meet another stranger who is absolutely different from the teen I talked about a few lines earlier- the only thing these two shared is their physical features!

Every half a decade the layers are peeled off and though we see the same onion a little smaller ( In this case a little larger- physically) the actual essence is so different! The pungency; the anger; the flavor- everything is so away from the last layer.

As I wander through the labyrinth of time, I wonder, who I will meet on this road we call life? What will happen when all the layers have been peeled off? Do I get to meet the real existence? Or will I miss it before it disappears? Or will "I"go into another existence searching for the last one or waiting for the final layer in a larger context to be peeled off?

But One thing I am sure of is, every time a layer is peeled off I cry for what I missed out; I cry for what could have been; I cry for the pain and the happiness...

Crying for me is not a negative emotion, it is a healing process; it's a growing process; it is the other half ....