An age old cliché: Question asked to Miss Universe Pageant finalists “What would you like to achieve if you were crowned Miss Universe?” Reply by all aspirants “World Peace!”
Nearly everyone I know believes in a cause. Some of them even contribute in some way. There are the rare few who are driven by these causes.
At the age of 18 I joined one of the largest youth communities in the world today, called AIESEC. Ironically, this association was born out of a desire for world peace. But that’s a broad point of view. What it aimed to achieve is peace through understanding, interaction, exchange, education, empowerment and much more. I could tell you more but then that would be a blog on its own. Frankly a visit to www.aiesec.org will tell you more than I ever can.
It was because of this that I became aware that everyone I knew had, at some level or the other, the desire to give back to the world. As a matter of curiosity I started asking people around me this one question:
“If you had all the money and time in the world and you decided to support a cause. What would your top three causes be and in what order?”
I got a variety of replies to this, but the majority went with old age and / or children. A few mentioned cancer research, HIV / AIDS, mentally / physically retarded children and so on and so forth.
This got me thinking about what kind of person I am. Thankfully very few asked me my choices. Because if they heard them, they would have thought I had my priorities mixed up.
My choices and in this order:
1. The environment
2. Animals / Wildlife
3. Education (child and adult)
Does this make me a callous human, who doesn’t care about health, elder people, under nourished children? Not in my eyes…
I have a million justifications to my choices; I don’t think I need to elaborate too much on them. Suffice to say that without the environment there will be no health. Without the ecological balances of nature and its creatures, there isn’t going to be a world to grow old in, or bring new children into. And for those who are already on the planet, education is the single most important step to creating better lives.
The only thing I would add to it if I had the option for a fourth cause is empowerment. All it takes is to make people believe in themselves and give them a few basic tools, and they will never have to rely on anyone else. “Give a man a fish and feed him for a day, teach a man to fish and you feed him for life.”
Today I am proud to know that at some level or the other I am contributing to all these causes. Sadly, it’s not enough, but I know I can make it more meaningful.
I work with father in a business that sells reusable bags the world over to help lessen the plastic menace. We are also trying to set up something that can become a community effort to make use discarded plastic so it doesn’t land up in land fills. (www.badlani.com/bags)
As of last week, on the request of a dear friend, I have rejoined the effort of helping his organization “Animal Help Foundation” achieve what it set out to do 4 years ago. (www.ahfindia.org) Being an active alumnus of AIESEC, assisting them achieve a 50+ year old dream, completes my cycle.
If anyone tells me that there is just so much one person can do, then I would request them to watch a movie called ‘Schindler’s List’. He was and remains my inspiration. I want to make a difference that means I can.
To world peace, Salute!
Saturday, July 16, 2005
Friday, July 08, 2005
The proposal
The phone rang; I saw the number and smiled. His sweet voice was on the other end. With no preamble he asked me ‘will you marry me?’ For a moment I was stunned into silence and then with a catch in my throat I said what I had to. ‘Yes! Yes, I will marry you’
He said that he was my prince charming and he would come on a horse to marry me. I couldn’t stop smiling. It was so sweet; so amazing.
‘I’ll get you pretty clothes and diamond jewelry. I’ll make you a beautiful big house, where I’ll keep you happy. We will call all our friends and enjoy every moment.’
I was in heaven… he was promising me everything a girl could ever want. I knew I was going to be the envy of everyone around me.
He said he couldn’t wait; he wanted to do this the next morning itself. Why would I argue? ‘Sure lets do it.’
The next morning arrived, and I waited… but prince charming never came…
Sigh…
He was in school with all the other 5 year olds and his Kaaguma still can’t stop smiling…
He said that he was my prince charming and he would come on a horse to marry me. I couldn’t stop smiling. It was so sweet; so amazing.
‘I’ll get you pretty clothes and diamond jewelry. I’ll make you a beautiful big house, where I’ll keep you happy. We will call all our friends and enjoy every moment.’
I was in heaven… he was promising me everything a girl could ever want. I knew I was going to be the envy of everyone around me.
He said he couldn’t wait; he wanted to do this the next morning itself. Why would I argue? ‘Sure lets do it.’
The next morning arrived, and I waited… but prince charming never came…
Sigh…
He was in school with all the other 5 year olds and his Kaaguma still can’t stop smiling…
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Belonging & Un-belonging
I just finished reading a book by James Patterson called Maximum Ride. He has written about 6 kids who at or before birth were injected with avian DNA, which made them mostly human but part bird.
They live in isolation, hiding from the world; they are regarded as mutants, freaks; they don’t belong. Yet their emotions, their desires aren’t any different from any of us. What 6 year old doesn’t like to have toys; who doesn’t like homemade chocolate cookies? These phenomena are universal. This is them, yet they don’t belong.
The whole book is about them struggling to keep alive while their creators are trying to hunt them down and kill them. It maybe a little silly but I felt their pain, shared their joy and saw the world from their eyes.
At one part, Max, the protagonist comes in touch with a human who she takes the risk to ask for help. Max has been shot through the shoulder and asking for help means exposing her delicate wings. The lady doesn’t bat an eyelid, cleans her wounds, feeds her and gives her a warm bed to sleep in.
What makes this lady different from other normal humans? Her compassion; her tolerance and patience; or maybe a heightened sense of peace within that doesn’t make her view something different as a threat?
Real life is not at all like science fiction, but aren’t we also to blame for the same things? Don’t we view people who are different from us with suspicion? Do we not fear them, shun them and even make fun of them?
This comes at times from fear of the unknown, suspicion of the ‘out of the ordinary’, defense for a way of life that has been ingrained into our senses, and often from a feeling of envy and disdain for things that we can’t have or do.
It happens all the time. I have always been the odd one out in my family. To an extent this is because my parents are such distinct individuals even within their own family units. But other than that it is because this is who I am.
In school kids would make fun of me for speaking in English and not being fluent in the regional languages. In college I was infamous because I smoked and didn’t try and hide it. Most of my cousins think I am nuts, again because I smoke and drink openly, have my nose pierced and a tattoo on my shoulder.
The elder generation thinks there is something wrong with me because unlike my cousin sisters who have married nice rich men and spend their days at home caring for their families, I am still unmarried, working and actually planning to marry a guy who chose the armed forces as a career.
Don’t get me wrong; I have nothing against what these girls are doing, in fact I respect it, especially seeing that I don’t have the ability to do it. But I really don’t think what I am looking for is unacceptable either.
I don’t belong in my family, in my society! Yet within this un-belonging, I have found my place and each day I try and see how I can marry the two…
I don’t want to belong! But I do want to un-belong in the nicest possible manner!
They live in isolation, hiding from the world; they are regarded as mutants, freaks; they don’t belong. Yet their emotions, their desires aren’t any different from any of us. What 6 year old doesn’t like to have toys; who doesn’t like homemade chocolate cookies? These phenomena are universal. This is them, yet they don’t belong.
The whole book is about them struggling to keep alive while their creators are trying to hunt them down and kill them. It maybe a little silly but I felt their pain, shared their joy and saw the world from their eyes.
At one part, Max, the protagonist comes in touch with a human who she takes the risk to ask for help. Max has been shot through the shoulder and asking for help means exposing her delicate wings. The lady doesn’t bat an eyelid, cleans her wounds, feeds her and gives her a warm bed to sleep in.
What makes this lady different from other normal humans? Her compassion; her tolerance and patience; or maybe a heightened sense of peace within that doesn’t make her view something different as a threat?
Real life is not at all like science fiction, but aren’t we also to blame for the same things? Don’t we view people who are different from us with suspicion? Do we not fear them, shun them and even make fun of them?
This comes at times from fear of the unknown, suspicion of the ‘out of the ordinary’, defense for a way of life that has been ingrained into our senses, and often from a feeling of envy and disdain for things that we can’t have or do.
It happens all the time. I have always been the odd one out in my family. To an extent this is because my parents are such distinct individuals even within their own family units. But other than that it is because this is who I am.
In school kids would make fun of me for speaking in English and not being fluent in the regional languages. In college I was infamous because I smoked and didn’t try and hide it. Most of my cousins think I am nuts, again because I smoke and drink openly, have my nose pierced and a tattoo on my shoulder.
The elder generation thinks there is something wrong with me because unlike my cousin sisters who have married nice rich men and spend their days at home caring for their families, I am still unmarried, working and actually planning to marry a guy who chose the armed forces as a career.
Don’t get me wrong; I have nothing against what these girls are doing, in fact I respect it, especially seeing that I don’t have the ability to do it. But I really don’t think what I am looking for is unacceptable either.
I don’t belong in my family, in my society! Yet within this un-belonging, I have found my place and each day I try and see how I can marry the two…
I don’t want to belong! But I do want to un-belong in the nicest possible manner!
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Until I do, I don’t!!!
Procrastination and an aim for perfection
So basically I have been living under the impression that until I can figure out what it is I want to write about and where it is going, I can’t write. I call this an aim for perfection, others call it procrastination.
Nomenclature aside, it’s the truth. I haven’t found anything to write about and what ever little I can think of, I don’t know where to take it. The result… silence!
I have a friend who tries his best to change this silly habit of mine, even suggesting things I can write about. It hasn’t worked has it? That’s not entirely true. The pod blog was his suggestion… Thanks man!
A quick self evaluation told me that this silliness of mine is not restricted to blogs; it seems to follow me around wherever I go. As far as I remember I have always been like this.
I feel the constant need to aim for perfection. And each time I think I have come close, my mind just raises the bar. It’s like being a dancer doing the limbo rock in reverse. Only it doesn’t get easier the higher it gets.
A corollary to this quest of mine is the desire to organize all the time. From making lists (which I assure you, is not always a bad thing) to rechecking things a million times. I also try to be freakishly neat. Constantly arranging things and doing it again if I am not quite happy with it.
It’s got to a point where friends call me ‘obsessive compulsive’ and think it is great fun to rile me by changing the placement of objects in my surroundings. To my horror they succeed in getting me fidgety.
And to think I laugh at similar quirks that Monica has in Friends, and my late uncle had. My cousin inherited it from him; I wonder where I got it from?
Dad is going to be very amused when he reads this; because he remembers all too clearly the messy room his daughter had nearly all her life… From one extreme to another!!!
I kind of prefer the new me! I need to find more things and ways to ‘do’… Until I do, I don’t!
PS: If this one meandered, it’s not my fault; I’m trying to disprove my OCD!
So basically I have been living under the impression that until I can figure out what it is I want to write about and where it is going, I can’t write. I call this an aim for perfection, others call it procrastination.
Nomenclature aside, it’s the truth. I haven’t found anything to write about and what ever little I can think of, I don’t know where to take it. The result… silence!
I have a friend who tries his best to change this silly habit of mine, even suggesting things I can write about. It hasn’t worked has it? That’s not entirely true. The pod blog was his suggestion… Thanks man!
A quick self evaluation told me that this silliness of mine is not restricted to blogs; it seems to follow me around wherever I go. As far as I remember I have always been like this.
I feel the constant need to aim for perfection. And each time I think I have come close, my mind just raises the bar. It’s like being a dancer doing the limbo rock in reverse. Only it doesn’t get easier the higher it gets.
A corollary to this quest of mine is the desire to organize all the time. From making lists (which I assure you, is not always a bad thing) to rechecking things a million times. I also try to be freakishly neat. Constantly arranging things and doing it again if I am not quite happy with it.
It’s got to a point where friends call me ‘obsessive compulsive’ and think it is great fun to rile me by changing the placement of objects in my surroundings. To my horror they succeed in getting me fidgety.
And to think I laugh at similar quirks that Monica has in Friends, and my late uncle had. My cousin inherited it from him; I wonder where I got it from?
Dad is going to be very amused when he reads this; because he remembers all too clearly the messy room his daughter had nearly all her life… From one extreme to another!!!
I kind of prefer the new me! I need to find more things and ways to ‘do’… Until I do, I don’t!
PS: If this one meandered, it’s not my fault; I’m trying to disprove my OCD!
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Huh???
Ok here’s a funny story!
A gentleman in the UK is putting up a unique sculpture / display. It comprises of a tap, with running water, which will flow constantly for a year.
The motive… to make people aware of the amount of water they waste.
Maybe it’s me, but seriously what sense does that make? By showing water flowing, you want people to shut their taps when they brush their teeth or shave.
I’m confused. All I can say I hope it works and those of you who choose to go see it, make sure you take a trip to the john before. It promises to be a ‘leaky’ experience.
A gentleman in the UK is putting up a unique sculpture / display. It comprises of a tap, with running water, which will flow constantly for a year.
The motive… to make people aware of the amount of water they waste.
Maybe it’s me, but seriously what sense does that make? By showing water flowing, you want people to shut their taps when they brush their teeth or shave.
I’m confused. All I can say I hope it works and those of you who choose to go see it, make sure you take a trip to the john before. It promises to be a ‘leaky’ experience.
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
I pod music, do u?
It was many years ago that I would fall asleep to the voice of James Taylor. Dad had a small Sony casette player that he used. When I got older I inherited the player, while dad upgraded himself. That’s when I started to have an opinion about what I like to listen to and what I didn’t.
I also started buying tapes for myself. It was so much fun. Especially when I would go to America for my annual holiday and I would hear all the new songs, buy the newest music and it bring it back. I was the envy of all my friends.
Somewhere along the line, I heard of a new thing called the ‘compact disc’. But they were so expensive! Being a music lover, dad of course got himself a player. That paved the way for me to get myself some CDs. I remember, my first CD was Wham’s Make it Big album. Over the next few years I accumulated all of 5 CDs. Man I was on a roll.
Now 15 years later, I have something close to 250 CDs… and a truly eclectic collection at that. What next…
I discovered MP3s and started collecting music on my computer. Now we are in the age of portable players that support this new form of compressed music. The age of the Ipod!
What a smart move by Apple. It has boosted their overall sales, besides making them a whopping profit from the Ipod. Your choice of memory capacity from 4 GB to 60 GB…
I waited a long time, thinking, hoping, wishing that the price of the pod would drop to an affordable level. You would think it would, like most electronics do. But no such luck!
So I succumbed, and finally bought myself an Ipod. A 40 GB with photo (I mean how can I survive without being able to carry all my pictures wherever I go). I don’t believe I took this step but suffice to say I am thrilled out of my senses.
Does this mean I will abandon all my CDs? Are you kidding me? I still listen to my tapes, why should my CDs be any different.
So now I have a huge collection of music no matter where I am. Next step? To collect the music that I lack… whether tape, CD or on the pod.
In the words of the bard, “If music be the food of love… play on…”
I also started buying tapes for myself. It was so much fun. Especially when I would go to America for my annual holiday and I would hear all the new songs, buy the newest music and it bring it back. I was the envy of all my friends.
Somewhere along the line, I heard of a new thing called the ‘compact disc’. But they were so expensive! Being a music lover, dad of course got himself a player. That paved the way for me to get myself some CDs. I remember, my first CD was Wham’s Make it Big album. Over the next few years I accumulated all of 5 CDs. Man I was on a roll.
Now 15 years later, I have something close to 250 CDs… and a truly eclectic collection at that. What next…
I discovered MP3s and started collecting music on my computer. Now we are in the age of portable players that support this new form of compressed music. The age of the Ipod!
What a smart move by Apple. It has boosted their overall sales, besides making them a whopping profit from the Ipod. Your choice of memory capacity from 4 GB to 60 GB…
I waited a long time, thinking, hoping, wishing that the price of the pod would drop to an affordable level. You would think it would, like most electronics do. But no such luck!
So I succumbed, and finally bought myself an Ipod. A 40 GB with photo (I mean how can I survive without being able to carry all my pictures wherever I go). I don’t believe I took this step but suffice to say I am thrilled out of my senses.
Does this mean I will abandon all my CDs? Are you kidding me? I still listen to my tapes, why should my CDs be any different.
So now I have a huge collection of music no matter where I am. Next step? To collect the music that I lack… whether tape, CD or on the pod.
In the words of the bard, “If music be the food of love… play on…”
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Pehli pehli baarish...
This classifies as one of the best days of the year. It is the day of the first rain. Early this morning I woke with a start to the most exceptional sound ever. The sound of rain, not the drizzle kind, but the constant swooshing type!
I couldn’t help myself. I had to see this; I jumped out of bed and ran to the window. It was gorgeous… The light was still the gentle color of dawn… but instead of pinks and oranges… there was this bright grey. The skies had upturned a few buckets and it was coming down. The breeze was cool. Beautiful!
Instinct told me to run out and dance in the rain. And just when I was about to, my brains kicked in and I noticed the time. 6.30 am is no time to go prancing about in the rain or anywhere for that matter. So I did the next best thing and cuddled back into my blanket and watched the skies…
Dreaming of other first rains… of times spent…
Going to school on a bicycle, getting drenched by the time you got there. Leaving wet trails in hallowed academic halls, and praying that it would keep raining hard so we would let off early. Never coming home even if this did happen, being with friends was more fun.
A few years later bicycles gave way to other 2 wheelers, this time capable of maniacal speeds. Now if the rain was good and the spirit even better, no one made it to class… choosing instead an out of the way place to eat something, or just drive around without getting caught by any parents.
Reveling in the visual delight of college campuses lush green with the water cascading off the foliage making puddles all over the place. Cutting class to have that steaming cup of tea, sometimes even managing dalwadas, bhajias or makai butta.
When a little older, romancing in the rain! Going for long drives in a car; listening to love songs and holding hands in the little cocoon. Or maybe choosing a bike instead, holding each other tight, letting the water cool blushing faces.
If feeling a little more serene; taking long walks with friends or sitting with them having a few drinks (that keep getting diluted) and listening to the sound of ghazals playing indoors.
In a more carefree mood, lying in the grass with eyes shut… or better still playing in the rain with a young one, for whom this is still a new thing.
And no matter what stage you were at, eventually coming indoors, having a hot shower and then sitting by the window watching nature’s spectacle.
I have done all this and more. I can’t wait for the monsoon to set in well, to relive some of these moments. At least those that can be… For the rest, if you ever see me sitting by the window staring out, you will know what I am thinking.
…pehli pehli baarish ki chitte, pehli baarish bheegey ho ho…
I couldn’t help myself. I had to see this; I jumped out of bed and ran to the window. It was gorgeous… The light was still the gentle color of dawn… but instead of pinks and oranges… there was this bright grey. The skies had upturned a few buckets and it was coming down. The breeze was cool. Beautiful!
Instinct told me to run out and dance in the rain. And just when I was about to, my brains kicked in and I noticed the time. 6.30 am is no time to go prancing about in the rain or anywhere for that matter. So I did the next best thing and cuddled back into my blanket and watched the skies…
Dreaming of other first rains… of times spent…
Going to school on a bicycle, getting drenched by the time you got there. Leaving wet trails in hallowed academic halls, and praying that it would keep raining hard so we would let off early. Never coming home even if this did happen, being with friends was more fun.
A few years later bicycles gave way to other 2 wheelers, this time capable of maniacal speeds. Now if the rain was good and the spirit even better, no one made it to class… choosing instead an out of the way place to eat something, or just drive around without getting caught by any parents.
Reveling in the visual delight of college campuses lush green with the water cascading off the foliage making puddles all over the place. Cutting class to have that steaming cup of tea, sometimes even managing dalwadas, bhajias or makai butta.
When a little older, romancing in the rain! Going for long drives in a car; listening to love songs and holding hands in the little cocoon. Or maybe choosing a bike instead, holding each other tight, letting the water cool blushing faces.
If feeling a little more serene; taking long walks with friends or sitting with them having a few drinks (that keep getting diluted) and listening to the sound of ghazals playing indoors.
In a more carefree mood, lying in the grass with eyes shut… or better still playing in the rain with a young one, for whom this is still a new thing.
And no matter what stage you were at, eventually coming indoors, having a hot shower and then sitting by the window watching nature’s spectacle.
I have done all this and more. I can’t wait for the monsoon to set in well, to relive some of these moments. At least those that can be… For the rest, if you ever see me sitting by the window staring out, you will know what I am thinking.
…pehli pehli baarish ki chitte, pehli baarish bheegey ho ho…
Monday, May 23, 2005
Exciting Holidays
I asked my father today to recollect his most ‘exciting’ holiday ever. He didn’t have an answer. Naturally this got me thinking of what my answer to this question would be. I have many memorable trips, but the most exciting, that’s actually a difficult one to pin.
The one that comes to mind immediately is my second trip to Disney world. The first one was when I was too young. The second one I remember. There the excitement was directly related to the first trip. I wanted to do everything I had done the first time round and everything I had missed. I even kept my eyes open through the ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ ride, but then that’s another story.
My first time in Paris was definitely exciting. I couldn’t believe it; I was actually on top of the Eiffel Tower, and inside the Louvre staring at Da Vinci’s ‘Mona Lisa’, walking up the steps of Montmartre, and cringing at the prices at Galeries Lafayette. What an experience! What a city!
My second trip to Dubai could count as well. I was going to be at the ‘Dubai Shopping Festival’ for the first time. I had heard so much about it. Plus it was 15 days before my graduation final exams. That definitely added to the fun. The highlight of that trip was an evening out in the desert. Only sand and dunes till your eye can see. Even though we were with guides, I couldn’t shake a nagging inner voice saying ‘what if you got lost’... Shudder!
A lot closer to home, my first visit to my fiancé at his army base, ranks as one the best. Oviously since it was the first time I was going to visit him I was excited. But him being in Jaipur (a city I have always been fascinated with) added to it. I went for New Year’s and it was so cold. Yet what a blast we had. Of course 6 months later I went right back. Rajasthan in May, you can imagine what it was like. Not that it made a difference to us; we still had a great time.
Now that I think about it, I have had very good reasons to be excited about most trips I make, whether it is to party with my best friend in Delhi, or to attend national conferences with AIESEC, or to have laid back vacations at the beach, whether Goa, Diu or Kelva…
I think it’s time I plan my next trip… But for now, Arrivederci…
The one that comes to mind immediately is my second trip to Disney world. The first one was when I was too young. The second one I remember. There the excitement was directly related to the first trip. I wanted to do everything I had done the first time round and everything I had missed. I even kept my eyes open through the ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ ride, but then that’s another story.
My first time in Paris was definitely exciting. I couldn’t believe it; I was actually on top of the Eiffel Tower, and inside the Louvre staring at Da Vinci’s ‘Mona Lisa’, walking up the steps of Montmartre, and cringing at the prices at Galeries Lafayette. What an experience! What a city!
My second trip to Dubai could count as well. I was going to be at the ‘Dubai Shopping Festival’ for the first time. I had heard so much about it. Plus it was 15 days before my graduation final exams. That definitely added to the fun. The highlight of that trip was an evening out in the desert. Only sand and dunes till your eye can see. Even though we were with guides, I couldn’t shake a nagging inner voice saying ‘what if you got lost’... Shudder!
A lot closer to home, my first visit to my fiancé at his army base, ranks as one the best. Oviously since it was the first time I was going to visit him I was excited. But him being in Jaipur (a city I have always been fascinated with) added to it. I went for New Year’s and it was so cold. Yet what a blast we had. Of course 6 months later I went right back. Rajasthan in May, you can imagine what it was like. Not that it made a difference to us; we still had a great time.
Now that I think about it, I have had very good reasons to be excited about most trips I make, whether it is to party with my best friend in Delhi, or to attend national conferences with AIESEC, or to have laid back vacations at the beach, whether Goa, Diu or Kelva…
I think it’s time I plan my next trip… But for now, Arrivederci…
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Happy Birthday Dad
Today is a special day! Not because it considered one of the most auspicious days of the year 2005, but because it’s dad’s birthday.
As usual I have spent an agonizing last few days trying to figure out what I could get him, how I could make his day enjoyable. Like Susan Sarandon’s problem with Richard Gere in ‘Shall we dance?’ there is nothing that I can get him which fits in a box.
Mom and I have tried many gifts, from mobile phones, to the entire set of the TV series ‘Yeh jo hai zindagi’; from briefcases to books to music to clothes. Eventually the ideas have run out. He has already acquired all the little oddities that he enjoys. I know a few things he would love, but had they been available, he would have had them already.
For many years, we as a family would shove off to Goa and celebrate his birthday there. I don’t think he has ever enjoyed his birthdays more than those. The first time we were there, some friends of his decided to get the hotel to make a cake for him; in the shape of a woman’s naked abdomen. I was mortified, I was also 11.
Another year, we had an impromptu gathering with some friends who were there as well, and some people who we had just met there. Someone brought a guitar, and the party was on in the lawn outside our cottage.
But Goa isn’t possible every year, so one year mom and I decided to make summer fun come to us. We had a party on the poolside of my grandparents’ house. Everyone swam and ate and drank and had a blast.
I don’t know when we will be able to celebrate his birthday like that next. But I do hope it is soon. Actually when I think about it, if I were to carefully plan this out, maybe I can put things together for his birthday next year from now! Not only will it be a great gift for him, but it will also ensure he spends this day as he likes best.
Looks like I have a goal for the coming year. I had better start cracking… Happy Birthday dad, thanks for inspiring me to do and be everything good… I love you! This time next year, I’ll wish you on the beaches of Goa…
As usual I have spent an agonizing last few days trying to figure out what I could get him, how I could make his day enjoyable. Like Susan Sarandon’s problem with Richard Gere in ‘Shall we dance?’ there is nothing that I can get him which fits in a box.
Mom and I have tried many gifts, from mobile phones, to the entire set of the TV series ‘Yeh jo hai zindagi’; from briefcases to books to music to clothes. Eventually the ideas have run out. He has already acquired all the little oddities that he enjoys. I know a few things he would love, but had they been available, he would have had them already.
For many years, we as a family would shove off to Goa and celebrate his birthday there. I don’t think he has ever enjoyed his birthdays more than those. The first time we were there, some friends of his decided to get the hotel to make a cake for him; in the shape of a woman’s naked abdomen. I was mortified, I was also 11.
Another year, we had an impromptu gathering with some friends who were there as well, and some people who we had just met there. Someone brought a guitar, and the party was on in the lawn outside our cottage.
But Goa isn’t possible every year, so one year mom and I decided to make summer fun come to us. We had a party on the poolside of my grandparents’ house. Everyone swam and ate and drank and had a blast.
I don’t know when we will be able to celebrate his birthday like that next. But I do hope it is soon. Actually when I think about it, if I were to carefully plan this out, maybe I can put things together for his birthday next year from now! Not only will it be a great gift for him, but it will also ensure he spends this day as he likes best.
Looks like I have a goal for the coming year. I had better start cracking… Happy Birthday dad, thanks for inspiring me to do and be everything good… I love you! This time next year, I’ll wish you on the beaches of Goa…
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