Musandam

Dubai is sometimes condemned for being too mechanical, too artificial and many such things. However, it has a strange magnetism about it, and one reason for this could be the vicinity to immensely contrastive destinations which offers a ‘quick getaway’ to residents. The drive from Dubai to most destinations is characterised by the steady downward slope of real estate starting from Burj Dubai onto shorter and shorter towers to sand dunes leading into a smooth drive through rugged surroundings, until you reach the Omani border. The incessant urge of UAE residents to seek pleasure in escaping the banal effects of their mechanical life is evident in the hustling at the sleepy border. A nominal visa fee gets you permission to experience one of the best guarded secrets of the Arab world – Musandam.

Within a few seconds of driving on what seems to be a relatively new road from the Omani border town of Tibba to Khasab, our destination, you instantly know that the place has already exceeded your expectations of a weekend getaway. For most of its length, the road hugs the base of cliffs, and occasionally rises up and over them, passing through quiet settlements and within sight of the randoml fort. You drive on like an idle dreamer oblivious to the realities of the world.

It is a crowded day at the camp-site, Omanis say. You only nod and try to get accustomed to the ‘crowd’, and it seems using that word for what you see does not do justice to the place, after thinking about where you come from. You see no one, around! And that is crowded, they say? What is unbelievable is how absolutely relaxing it feels to be in a place like this. Here, the white Kanduras men wear reflects not only light but also radiates warmth, contrary to the true nature of the colour they don. Meandering through the roads – Blue seas on the left and craggy mountains on the right we reach the Dhow boat - A cranky old piece of wood having done millions of miles through these waters with the resilient Omani colors – Red, White and Green fluttering with the breeze atop its hood. As the boat slowly begins wandering into the sea, I take a moment to observe how fresh the mountains look. Like a child, I begin to associate the mountains to the wrinkles on the faces of the Oldies I know, and not surprisingly, the mountains look like some of the really grumpy but protective ones from school! It’s hard to resist jumping into the water, there is no fear of what lies beneath in these waters; this place means no harm. Jumping into the water, like in most places frequented by inconsiderate travellers, we see cola cans, bottles and other such waste on the seabed, readily accepted by nature; the cans have lost their sheen, and are one with the seabed – but it just makes me sad. Man is so Thankless for all that nature has provided. As we head back to shore, we see dolphins beating boats in races and getting us to cheer them on like kids.

I head back to Dubai thinking about every minute of my day, and how I leave a part of myself behind…and in the immortal words of Arnold Schwarzenegger, all I can say to Musandam is…”I’ll be back”.

  

 

K&P Invade HYOORUP!

A Divine Joke

Life provides few people with whom we may reveal our true selves in unguarded confidence. The stalwart presence of good friends provides a cushion against the onslaughts of life. Sometimes, however, those we have allowed closest to us contribute to those upheavals. There are few experiences like having a good friend stand behind you during hardship, and there are also few experiences like being sold out by one you considered an authentic friend. I became opinionated and tending towards melancholy and romantic idealism. They say that you must love, to get love. I did, and perhaps I do, and this is not what was promised. The knots in my stomach are validated but I still felt utterly blindsided.

There is this colloquialism, opposites attract. The conventional truth of this statement is undeniable. Many people, when explaining what originally attracted them to their spouse, describe the most alluring characteristics as those different from their own. “He was always thinking ahead, secretly planning surprises. It was thrilling,” or, “She was very spontaneous, suggesting the craziest things at such odd times… I wasn’t used to it.” It is often the unfamiliar and foreign which we find most remarkable and beautiful. Yet, within such relationships it seems that there must be some basic commonality which underlies the diversity of preference, personality, ethnicity, interests and experiences.

Love is a commitment to the other person which, by definition (and, if wilfully sustained), transcends time, emotional fluctuations, geographical distance, relational difficulties and external provocations. This certainly adds to the pressure of being in love knowing that you are not getting it back. The vacillating emotions and the lingering hesitancy are part of the process of discovering if one wishes to move on. The answer to such questions must be learned and lived out. It is not realistic to approach life and love with a user’s manual, simply acting out the appropriate steps as they are dispassionately dictated. Sometimes, if a substantial friendship and fundamental commonalities are accounted for, all that is lacking is the determination and confidence to love the other person. It is something which one must grow into. What kills us is that one person cannot be ready enough for two! I think one will find that much of the uncertainty is resolved or at least satisfactorily addressed as time passes and a mutual self-effacing love is cultivated.

It is much easier to conceptualize love than it is to consistently demonstrate it in a practical, lived-out manner. Many can articulate lofty ideals of enduring faithfulness and mutual sacrifice in glowing abstract terms but its application in trivial and emotive daily affairs is deficient. It's hard to anticipate the abrasive conflicts that arise in relationships within or intending towards marriage. True Love, and confidence, might still be able to see you through the abrasive patches, but people need guarantees in this time and age.

In stark contrast to any egocentric motivations, love is a commitment to the other for the other’s sake. So, it is apparent that apart from this de-prioritization of oneself, one does not truly love. But, is it possible to achieve personal happiness by means of one’s innate narcissism? If so, why do self-absorbed individuals (like me, sometimesJ ) tend to be the most unhappy and discontent? Perhaps, it’s due to the fleeting nature of happiness, which, like all other emotions, comes and goes. It is not a definite destination at which one can arrive and take up residence.

It seems to me that contentment and meaning cannot be found through one’s selfish preoccupation. But what does one do when everything you do is a constant reminder of how much you love someone? It could be the most random thing one does, and if the one he/she loves creeps into it, one really feels at the receiving end of a divine prank. One knows now how to find what he seeks then. Similar to the hedonic paradox which proposes that one who seeks pleasure for pleasure’s sake never finds it.

Charles Bukowski wrote a relevant poem:

Oh Yes
There are worse things than
being alone
but it often takes decades
to realize this
and most often
when you do
it's too late
and there's nothing worse
than
too late.

Perhaps Bukowski has in mind those who wasted their lives away looking for love only to reach old age empty and unhappy. Or, maybe he is lamenting an investment in another which turned void at a point too late to begin again. I don’t know, but I can’t think of much worse than being alone in life. In my opinion, life is given meaning through communion with others, in relationship. To be alone, to have no one to share life with, no one to sacrifice for, no one to love, would be, for me, an unhappy and unfulfilled existence.

They say that God has the ability to plant thoughts, ideas, and wishes in our minds. He only plants those wishes which can be fulfilled. The obvious question which arises is, why would he plant a thought in one’s head when he knows that he won’t grant it? It’s like a sick joke. Okay...Haha, everyone's laughing....cut it out God.

This is nothing but the existential reflection on the meaning of life from my perspective about the elusiveness of true love, and the apparent silence of God, with cynical humor deliberately employed so I don’t sound suicidal.

The Flight

Now thats a reasonable stab!

High Profile Rape cases, Racism down under, T20 losses….wonderful events that shape history have forced me to write another meaningless post. I say meaningless, because you don’t really care for me, I am just another blogger.

High Profile Rape cases, Racism down under, T20 losses….wonderful events that shape history have forced me to write another meaningless article.

The news has been particularly entertaining the last coupla weeks – if you have not heard, Shiney Ahuja, the bollywood actor, has raped his housekeeper. On conducting a thorough investigation, private detective Byomkesh Bakshi found that Shiney distorted the story. A coupla questions crop up. For starters, why would someone with a name like Shiney think his alleged relationship with Shakuntala Devi be kept discreet? The only reason people actually know him is because of his unusual name. What seems to be lack of creativity on his parents’ part turned out to help him gain popularity (NOT?!). Had it not been for his parents’ far sightedness, people would actually be saying “Hey, whose that guy from the movie Ganster…what’s his name? ....Yea, he corked his housekeeper”. Thanks to his Parents, people know his name! Secondly, how did he mutually rape the victim? Was it like “First you, then me?” Thirdly, why did he cover his face when being produced in court? Was he afraid that people might recognize him? Anyway, the official spokesperson on this issue, as always, is Mahesh Bhatt. I assure you; he will not withhold his opinion, and will not withhold his hands from scratching himself while he shares it.

Over to the T20 loss – I do not understand what the hoopla is all about and why Bejan Daruwala has to butt-in and blame a planet for India’s loss in a sport. All this, while good ‘ol Saturn was busy minding his own business spinnin away! Its that time of the year again, where our esteemed countrymen will get together at the neighborhood panwala to share their 2 cents about the deteriorating performance of Team India. Thank God, we have a South African to blame.

Now, comes the juiciest part. The ass-kickin of our much cherished Sunny Malhotras and Vicky Singhals Down-Under. Over the years, I have become a racism connoisseur, and the reasons are right in front of our eyes. The attacks are not racist in nature. It is Heeng. Yes, that right, primarily, they are culinary attacks. Now I am not saying that Aussies are not racist, they are. However, every Indian who has gone to Australia for a 6 month course is some university has contemplated ‘settling’ there – at any cost; and for some reason, thinks he/she is Australian. Before the person crosses the Immigration Check, a new word has been added to their vocab - MATE....Hey Mate, this is Baldev Mate, I was looking for the grocery store as I am new in town..Mate....blah blah..

Indians live in bunkbeds, drive a cab, work at the local grocery store and basically do anything so their families back home can brag and say “Sadda Sunny te Aushtralia ich settle ho gaya hai…..hun koi vadiya jeyi kudi vekh ke byaah kar dene aan; fees di recovery te ho” (Our Sunny is settled in Australia, lets find him a girl and get him married so we can recover the college fees with the dowry money). It is not rocket science, if a university campus smells like a nuclear warhead (with spices instead of uranium) blew up, and out pop a group of foreigners who smelt like the source, you’d be pissed too, no matter which part of the world you live in. Some Indians think violating Visa laws and refusing to exit the country is ‘citizenship’. They have done nothing to adapt to the Aussie way of life apart from religiously repeating the word 'Mate" after every 6 words,getting a crew cut and growing a one-hair-thick(or thin?) French beard and wearing loose clothes. We do not know how to stand for ourselves. If someone beats the crap out of us, our way of 'stickin it to the man' is marching with a candle with a poster. We are only good at dissing each other, and Pakis of course. I have the solution. Please do not be obnoxious, please respect and learn Australian etiquette, if you wish to live there and not get your ass beat.

Now, if you think that I am bit too opinionated, let me correct you. Its not like I am biased, I hate everyone equally.

Stab

Sariska - The Road Trip

This is a old video, back by popular demand.. Enjoy!

Homesick

Home is no longer home - it’s a place I once lived.

Regrettably, it will never be the same again. It will never just be home again. It sure will be my original home. I sometimes feel scared that that the significance of that home will only be on my passport as my “permanent address”. My image of it has been tarnished because, now I’ve got used to not living here, it's no longer weird to be in my flat by myself but weird to be in my parents’ house back ‘home’. I guess I've been away too long.

Conflictingly, I know, that if I ever go back to live there again, I am gonna hate it. My sense of independence will be lost; no longer will I be the only person I really need to consider. I won’t be able to come and go as I please and that will annoy the hell out of me; de facto, I fear that this has already happened because if there's one thing I love about living alone, is the independence.

This does not mean that I do not feel homesick, although I AM perfect, I still have days where I feel run down and lonely and just wanna be with my Parents and all my friends.

I am tired to scheming and planning pranks sitting so far away, I hope I get a chance to unleash hell on some poor soul soon– in person, for a change.

Getting a date in the land of dates:

Living in Dubai can be tough if you are single and away from family. Being single is not a curse. If you plan to change it, here is what you need to become a chic magnet. Before you begin your journey, please understand that this exercise proves more difficult if you have too much faith in ‘the system’ and aim at honeys way outside your league. With that out of the way, here goes:

You will need the following:
1) A kid who does not call you “Dad”. It is important not to overdo the ‘caring, gentle, fatherly’ bit. You simply need to demonstrate that you can take care of a kid. Make sure you smile at the kid only when you know that hot chica is watching
2) A newspaper that is not neatly folded. It shows that you are aware of what is happening around you
3) Sunglasses: no aviators please, unless you are a pilot (and you would really have to be obtuse if you are a pilot and single). Do not wear them indoors
4) Worn-out leather stuff: messenger bag and shoes. Shows that you are well traveled
5) A macbook air: shows you have creativity (and money)
6) A Touch-screen phone, when used sparingly, indicates that you know how to swipe your fingers
7) A book: remember – Playboy is not a book, and no one reads the articles. It has to be a fat book too, you gotta show that you are the intellectual kind
8) Clothing: Shirts should be crinkled, and not tucked.
9) Accessories: No Gold watch please

The best place to try this, at a coffee shop or sth. I have tried it many times, and it works. Okay, it did not work for me. Although, if you try it, it might, and at the end of the day, what do you have to loose? Except AED 10000?

P.S.: I do not have a macbook air. I do not have a touch-screen phone. I do not have a leather bag. I wear shorts and flip-flops when I go out. And, I do not drink coffee.

Doob Town Invasion

Picture is worth a thousand words, and a video is worth a thousand pictures.

How many high school teachers do this?

I found this video online and was so amused to see him bust a move with students..Mr.Pathak does not cease to amaze me, he truly is an entertainer, even if it means making a complete fool out of himself, which he does several times a day; I gotta admit, he is cool...You dont find teachers who dance like crazy at school jammin sessions! ~