Good advice

 I have often been asked for advice on a wide range of topics .

Music, Education, Writing , Speaking , Books, Holidays , Relationships and the like . People assume that ' oldish  men' like me are wise  & experienced enough to advise .

I probably am good at giving advice, as people are very appreciative and some return for more. Not sure about the 'wisdom' part though but I won't sell myself short . 

No, I don't ever think I am extra smart, or anything to that effect so don't get me wrong.

As a young boy, I simply detested  people giving me  unsolicited advice or even worse, asking me questions  - my mother, my aunts and uncles , my grandmother , miscellaneous relatives and friends who dropped in unannounced  were all in that group - and all of a sudden, without so much as a by your leave, the topic was always    ' ME' 

The questions & advice generally centered around me  and my studies.

You must study harder ( seriously ?) 

How many hours a day do you study? . ( I counted it in minutes) 

Have you got your report card?

What happened in school today ? ( 'Nothing'-  was usually the answer) 

If you don't study  you will fail ( I once did)

What do you want to become when you get big- this was an all time favourite and I had no clue !

You should read some good books ( I did)

Don't keep the book too close to your face, or you will end up wearing spectacles or even blind .

Have you had a bath ? 

Eat all your food/ take more  - remember there are children who are starving all over the world . I was confused as to how eating more food would help the starving children. However I never asked that question and it still perplexes me 

 

Then there was the more personal stuff when I was older ,which annoyed me even more .

Have you got a job?

Are you helping your mother ? 

How much do you earn ? ( I started out on Rs 450) 

Are you saving money ? ( There was none to save ) 

Are you wasting your money ?  ( No - not again ) 

When do you plan to buy a place of your own? ( Joke) 

And then as I was ' of the age' or some such phrase,  the questions and advice continued.

Do you have a girlfriend?

You should be looking for a nice girl. 

Who is your girlfriend ?

Do you like so and so ?

Why are you being sly ? 

Look he's blushing . 

Are you 'going steady' with anyone? 

When are you planning to settle down ? 

The questions and advice was never ending . 

So to all those who gave me advice, I say--  "thank you" - jokes aside- a lot of it came in handy, and let me explain in as succinct a way as possible.  

I did study fairly hard towards the end of my time in school , and yes I got a job ! I still have a job ! 

Am very regular with my baths!

I loved my mother! 

I have a house!

I am saving money !  

I probably didn't listen to you about holding books close to my face as I wear spectacles.

I  had a few girlfriends ( OMG some will read this ) 

I married one !   ( She is not on FB ! )  

Now I am not going to give any unsolicited advice, but something  happened this morning which I must share - I know you may say 'here he goes' but stay with me here. 

I was in a hurry.

  I had got up at 4. 45 am as usual , but I was fiddling with my phone, I made my tea and had it ,read the news papers ,checked and attended to mail, did  some  writing, talked  to and annoyed the cat and I guess I never kept my eye on the clock . I also went into the garden, and like Mr Bean, I swung my arms a few times , stretched once or twice, breathed in and out a few times too and was happy with my exercise for the day. 

Before I could say Jack Robinson, it was 7.00 am 

Thirty minutes later  I was ready, and all that was left was to spray on the after shave and go down for breakfast.

I chose the bottle of aftershave closest to me , looked into the mirror - was pleased at what I saw, and sprayed for all I was worth.

Haste makes waste. 

I was getting late, was eager for a good breakfast , was thinking about filling fuel in my  car and contemplating a few meetings during the day. Busy , busy , busy !

All this had contributed to me not checking which way the nozzle was pointed . In a fraction of a second I was screaming in pain, as the cologne saturated my eyes.

It then took me all of ten minutes to rinse my eyes, walk towards my towel like a zombie, and sit on the bed, while my eyes watered, for all they are worth. Trust me, they stung like hell.  I still feel the discomfort five hours later . 

As I told you - am not giving advice but at times people like me lack common sense ! I should have been more careful . 

However - I'm only human . 

By the way- has anyone ever had this happen to them ?

Have you ever...

 Have you heard of the jaggery experiment ? 

Have you checked it out on Google ?

Have your friends been discussing it?

If you are a teacher,  have you debated it with your pupils?

Have you used it to explain History,Geography or Math?

Did you use and AI tool like ChatGPT to find out more?

Or maybe LT rings a bell?

Do you know what Barrack Obama said about using it?

Whenever you think of the jaggery experiment what do you start reminiscing about?

Well if you haven't done any of the above you are like 74386229430 people on this planet who haven't either.

You see, the jaggery experiment was done over 1500 years ago in a remote village in Western India by a lady named Asunti. 

She did it once and never repeated it for fear of causing untold misery for her family and friends.

It all began when someone gave her family a large lump of unadulterated jaggery.

Omg I don't know where this is going so I will end here.

I have no clue ...........sorry.

When God's angels come calling

 When God’s angels come calling 

When God's angels come calling

Maybe - the devil at their heels

Will you welcome them with open arms?

Or will you shout and scream?

Will you be rejoicing, in the future you behold?

Or gnash your teeth in utter despair 

Because your soul

You have willingly sold?

Will you be packed and ready? 

Loving acceptance in your mind

Or caught completely unaware 

Because of belongings, you cannot find?

Candles will be burning

Incense filling the air

The mourners all assembled 

No more time to spare

The angels will sing with glory 

Their swords aflame with light 

While the devil, in his fury

Trying to unleash his Hadean might

But fear not all my people 

 For in the ultimate end

The righteous will prevail 

While the devil,

 in defeat, will kneel

 To the might of heaven's hail

So, let us take heart and stand

 Against the forces of the night

 For when God’s angels come calling 

We know we're on the side of the right.

The answers don't matter

 How many times have you been round the sun? 

Did you walk or did you run?

Maybe you strolled nonchalantly 

Looking, but seeing little!

How many times did you stop to smell the roses? 

To admire a rainbow

Or hear a little bird sing it's heart out

For a nonexistent audience?

Did you pluck a flower or admire 

An unrealistic cloud formation

That resembled an old man

Or a running horse?

Did you ever look at a vehicle passing by

On a lonely road

And wonder where they were going ?

Have you ever found yourself sitting

In a train

Speeding through the countryside 

Late at night

And then you spot a lone house

With a dimly- lit portico

And nothing else for miles around!

Is that not a brave family ? 

How many times have you paid a genuine compliment

And made someone's day?.

What about a warm greeting

A reassuring phone call 

 A brief email 

Or better still - a hand written note ?

Ever given them a try?

Each year seems shorter

Doesn't it?

Who do so many vague questions

Come to mind 

When the answers 

Don't even matter.

Banking and me

 Although I visit India, about thrice a year, I only visit my bank during my summer vacation as that's when I am in Pune for the longest stretch- approximately 3 weeks.

One of the first things I do after settling in over the weekend is ' visit SBI on East Street'.

If lucky, I see a face or two amongst the staff, who I have dealt with before and that's quite reassuring. (The others have probably been transfered.)

Them not remembering me is another story.

After waiting in line for about 30 min or so , it's finally my turn.

I have prepared for this visit well before leaving Dxb. 

Cheque books, Account numbers, Credit and Debit Cards ,miscelleanous receipts, Aadhar cards, Pan cards and whatever else I imagine the bank may ask for.

Thus, well armed, I approach the clerk smiling. 

She or he smiles back and right away I get into the job of reminding him or her how we met the year before. While engrossed in that , the clerk attends to calls, enquires from people behind me, clicks a few keys on the computer keyboard, drinks water, sips tea and rifles threw masses of papers on the desk.

That the clerk was not paying attention to me is obvious. So my 10 minute introduction has been wasted.

I make a second attempt. 

The manager suddenly summons the clerk so I am left sitting at the desk.  

I check my papers nervously and feel relieved that I have everything I need.

Meanwhile my wife asks me if I switched off the gas before leaving the house. 

I thank her for her query with a cold stare.

Meanwhile the clerk returns and asks me if I have filled the KYC.

I reply in the negative .

So I am handed a form which I attempt to fill in. 

Proof of Dxb and local address ? I manage to get this from my phone and look up triumphantly ! 

Photographs of my wife and myself- that was a breeze . Various copies - yes I have them.

Now I come to the cards . They have not been used for a year and never work.

Getting a new password is difficult as it has to be mailed to you. 

However I usually coax the clerk who makes an exception and so that's done.

As the card does not work right now,I need to withdraw some money.

Signing on the cheque book is something I dread. My signature never matches. The clerks are always suspicious. 

They ask me questions to check.

Where have I been for a year? Why haven't I used this account?. Why don't I remember my signature? 

At times they show me my old signature and ask me to copy it. 

I fail miserably.

I once suggested they take my thumb impression as that would be easy. They said no. But I can swear I have seen people affixing their thumb impression on bank cheques before. 

My wife has suddenly remembered that she used the iron at home .... did I use it too ? 

We argue as to whose fault it is. OMG her timing is always spot on. 

Meanwhile the clerk has checked, and as expected, my signature does not match.

She then needs a sign off from the manager. My frustration makes my ears go crimson.

I peep in and smile my most charming smile at the manager. She thinks I am acting smart and requests me to wait till she checks. She keys in some numbers and looks up. I don't know whether to smile or not. It's almost like passport control

 

I volunteer to show her documentation to prove I am the real deal. She finally believes me and I proceed to get the cash. 

The original plan was to lunch out .However that plan is shelved as we need to get home to see if the gas is still burning and the iron still on. 

Holidays are fun aren't they?

 A pensive mood

A vintage Port

The lamps aglow 

Sam 'lightnin' Hopkins for company.

Asking for more?

No. 

Desiring a change ? 

No.

Could be better

Yes!

But certainly not bad !

The lazy boy 

Cushions tucked in 

Legs stretched out 

Comfortable 

A cat purring at my feet

Begging for love?

Probably not.

She is a mean kitty

And as elusive as they come!

And then

Suddenly - a phone call 

Out of the blue 

And 

It all changes. 

The mood, the music, the wine too.

And what an unexpected change 

In seconds 

I am glad.

Euphoria? 

No .

Happy ? 

Oh yes 

Life . Yes that's life. 

Patience is a virtue 

And it pays .

Dinner beckons.

A tryst with trolleys

 I hate the trolleys in supermarkets.

Ok, let me tone that down before people start suggesting anger management classes for me – I like supermarkets and malls but I hate most of the trolleys therein.  

Now please don’t get me wrong – I love shopping for groceries and walking down long isles, buying things I don’t need. Let me modify that too before people brand me a shopaholic- my wife is the one doing the buying, while I am the one who is pushing the trolley.

Back to the trolleys, and our shopping last Sunday.

We needed a few vegetables and some curd according to the Mrs. and I knew right away what that meant, as it has happened before. We go in with good intentions, but by the time we are done with ‘shopping’ it’s about two hours, I am fed up with life as a married man, and looking for the nearest bench or chair to rest my weary body, but that, after finding the washroom. When you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go!

So last Sunday was no different, but this is about the disgusting trolley that I pulled out from a line of about twenty. That’s Murphy’s law, isn’t it? You may wonder as to why I pushed it forward when I knew it was malfunctioning. Well, trolleys are sly creatures. They start out all smart and perfect and soon you are on roll – one isle after another. Then the inevitable happens. 

Like most husbands, I guess trolleys get a tad fed up too, and that’s when they start playing up. All was going well that day when all of a sudden, my trolley wheels seemed to have jammed and it came to an abrupt halt. After a few kicks and shakes all seemed ‘hunky dory’, but then, without so much as a by your leave, this monster started a game with me. It instantaneously started moving to the left. The more I tried to steer it straight, the more it kept veering off to the left. 

Before you can say “Jack be nimble”, I was banging into oncoming trolleys, knocking over large pumpkins, grazing people’s shins and knees, missing shelves of glassware by millimeters, and in general causing mayhem.

I was scolded by a rather fierce-looking man for attempting to force my way into the middle of a queue, when all I was actually doing, was trying to steer the trolley toward the payment counter. That was easier said than done. 

Did I tell you I had a bad back when I went in and this imbecile only made it worse? So here I am, limping along, back aching and pushing an overloaded trolley, that was as stubborn as a mad mule. 

After almost knocking an old lady off her feet and crashing into the payment counter, we cleared the bill and I breathed a sigh of relief. I just had to go down a small slope and then move towards the car park.

That’s when my trolley decided it needed to visit the lady’s loo. Yes, you read that right! Despite my best intentions, it went careening down the slope in the exact direction of the toilet, with me and my bad back limping along, trying to make it go straight out of the exit door nearby. 

Three ladies were chatting & exiting the toilet and I was almost inside! They jumped aside to avoid getting injured. A meter or so more, and I would probably have been escorted away by security and arrested. That would have made nasty news for sure!

My wife was oblivious to the agony I was in, as she was still looking to see what else she could buy on the way out, and that irritated me no end. 

We finally made it to the car, but not before almost scraping the side of an oncoming vehicle whose driver must have thought me insane, for seeing him approaching in broad daylight, yet walking in the center of the path in an attempted suicide mission. 

Please – can someone get these supermarkets and malls to service their trolleys?