Haircut for Christmas

 Had a hair cut for Christmas. It's short and I am the only one who likes it in the family . What style ? No style , just short! 

Walked in. Told him to cut my hair. He did his job - that was followed by the customary showing me the back of my head in a mirror. 

Often wonder why they do that and with such aplomb too. 

I nodded,  he looked satisfied as I paid him and walked out a few grams lighter. 

I am a no fuss person where haircuts are concerned. 

Now with 2 daughters out of the house and only the wife with me, there are less jokes to contend with , and none that I can't parry with ease.

But it's the 'look' to which I am yet to find a suitable answer to. 

When I returned from a hair cut today I got 'the look' . No comment - just a look or a glance and then she looked away. 

I think I saw a smirk but then again I had just come in from the sun. 

Years ago I stopped asking the usual question' How does my hair look' because there would be a flurry of responses which all meant the same thing - ' it looks aweful ' 

Anyway , I think I look awesome!

Tricky toothpicks

 A small mishap occurred while shifting house and home today  - very small.

It's 6 am. I am a nervous traveller and probably an equally nervous shifter . Just realized this today. 

I woke at 4.45  am and while making my tea I decided to multi task . I realized that multi tasking at work is something I do so well , and with extreme  regularity, but trying that at home, with the weight of the shift playing on my mind, was a very different experience. 

I saw one of those small containers which have about a few hundred toothpicks in them and decided to put   it into a plastic bag.

I know you're wondering as to why that caught my attention. Now I am wondering the same thing .

Needless to add the tea water came to a boil at exactly the same time.

Being extremely particular about my tea , there was a momentary lapse of concentration  and the wretched toothpicks spilled on to the counter top. 

Not wanting the wife to give me a morning lecture as she would be apt to do if she saw the mess , I attempted to put the toothpicks back into the container as quickly as possible. Easier said than done and this  is the point of this mini story.

There were definitely a few hundred tooth picks that fell out,  but only half could fit back in. My rather thick fingers and thumb didn't help ease the struggle . 

How the Dickens they pack them so tightly  beats me. Surely it is an art or maybe a science for all you know. 

Anyway,  after quite a struggle, I managed to put half the amount back and binned the rest .

My tea was cold by then and the packers would soon be  ringing the doorbell. 

My wife was none the wiser .

Here ends my story.

Have the courage ....

 

Have the courage

To do the right thing

To stand up and say ‘No I don’t agree’

To speak up for the oppressed and the wronged

And hold firm to your belief.

 

Have the courage

To voice your opinion

When your heart tells you, you’re right

‘Group think’ if you know what it is

Can be a destructive force.

 

Have the courage

And quality of mind and spirit

To defy conventional beliefs

That have stood the test of time

Just because no one asked

That all pertinent ‘WHY’

 

Have the courage

To question those in authority

Who attempt to play God

 And punish others

When no punishment is due

 

Have the courage my friend

To be virtuous and upright.

It will not be easy

But if you’re just and fair

It will give you peace of mind

in the end

Our family

 When we stop being defined by Religion, Nationality , Caste and Creed we will be better human beings. 

I am a half Parsi and half Anglo Indian married to a Goan. So there are tons of Goans in the family . My wife's sister married a North Indian Hindu while her brother married a German. My daughter is married to a Malayalee boy while two nephews married Filipino girls. One of my nieces is married to a boy with Portuguese nationality while we also have East Indians, Anglo Indians, Canadians, British Germans,  Chinese and Parsees in the  family as well . 

A very  large and happy mix indeed and still growing. Dozens of Muslim friends too !

Stop caring about the history of your birth and think more about your present and future life and how you're living it. 

Let not caste , creed, Religion and nationality divide you .

Scary toys anyone ......

 

Let me come to the point straight away. We had a doll in the house and eerie things began happening after we planned to get rid of it, and that’s what this is about.

So, let’s get to the beginning. Jerry was a vinyl, ‘boy doll’, and quite good looking! He was about a foot long, the size of a small baby, dressed in blue, and all cute and cuddly, with deep blue eyes, and a lovely expression on his face. The doll was a gift for my elder daughter on her third birthday, and she loved it. In fact, it was her first gift that year, and hence extra special. She spent hours playing and talking to it, as all young girls do. As young parents, we attended doll tea parties and doll birthdays, and it was fun and cute. The children’s’ friends came over with their dolls too and the kids spent many an enjoyable holiday in their make-believe world.

Then we had our second baby girl, a few years later, and the doll was passed on. In fact, both played with it for years. As and when necessary, it was washed in soap and water, dried in the sun, and dressed in a fresh set of baby clothes.

After being with us for about 8 years or so, Jerry was worn out, and was soon relegated to being ‘an old toy’, as both girls took to ‘Barbies’ in a big way. Jerry was never played with, began looking dusty, neglected, and dirty. However, whenever we went to throw it out, or give it away, we never did, due to sentimental reasons. The girls refused to part with it.

This is where this story takes an unmistakeably sinister turn.

One morning we found “Jerry boy” as he was affectionately called, with his neck off! Now mark you - we had no dog or cat in the house and the doll had been relegated to the corner of a  top shelf in a large wooden cupboard. Rather than keep it like that, my wife picked up a needle and thread, stitched the neck firmly back on and put the doll back in the cupboard. We forgot about the incident for a few months.   Lo and behold, when we decided to dispose of the cupboard and get a replacement, everything was taken out of the cupboard and put on the bed. Amidst all the clothes, we spotted Jerry- with his neck about to fall off once again. Something just did not seem right. This transpired on two more occasions – the last time it did, the clothes were all torn, and the face scratched. It could have been my imagination, but I felt that the lips seemed darker than normal, and the eyebrows slightly raised and pulled together. That was the icing on the cake. I immediately had the doll put in a large plastic bag and without telling the two girls, I threw it in the bin outside. Luckily, the garbage van was there at the very moment, and we never saw or heard of ‘Jerry boy’ again.

We then shifted to another house, and all was well for a few months. Then, surprise of surprises, we came home from school one afternoon & saw a doll in the house. It was a blond haired, light eyed, porcelain doll, had on a pink lace dress, and looked new.  We had a house maid, and when we asked her where it had come from, she was as confused as us. My elder daughter said that she had taken it out from a box in the   toy cupboard. However far- out the explanation, we had no reason to disbelieve her, and presumed that one of their friends had probably left it at our place after the last sleep over and would collect it on her next visit.

 It looked adorable.

As it was never claimed, we were left with no other alternative but to keep it, it assuming that it could   have been a birthday gift, that we had somehow overlooked. The girls played with it now and then and all was honky dory. It sat with the large collection of barbies on a low shelf and somehow fitted in, despite being the odd one out.   

Then we went for the summer vacation and by the time we returned, the doll seemed to have taken on a life of its own. Now first and foremost it was one of those old-fashioned talking dolls. The doll's talking mechanism was activated by a small button on its back. Pressing the button turned a grooved disc inside the doll's body, and a metal needle produced sound from the disc by traveling through the grooves. What was odd was the fact that although the doll spoke English, it was with a strange accent. There were two prerecorded sentences. the first was ‘Hello, my name is Mia’. The second was, “I want to play with you.” Those were followed by the doll laughing! If you ask me, the laughter was hideous and quite repulsive, but the girls laughed along and seemed to enjoy it so who was I to complain!

The first time this happened we woke with a start. It was well past midnight when the doll, which was lying at the corner of the bed, occupied by the kids, started talking and laughing! It spoke the same two sentences repeatedly - and as for the laugh itself- it scared me.

I have always imagined myself as some sort of a detective, so I worked it out, much to the chagrin of my wife, that one of the kids had woken from her sleep, played with the doll, activated the talk button, and then dozed off. Nevertheless, we did not put too much thought into the incident and dozed off again. We woke with a start at about five am with the doll on the ground and yes, it was talking again and oh that sinister laughter!

I managed to convince my wife using the same logic once again, that it was just a bizarre coincidence, that had happened twice in one night.

I am not going to draw this out, but this doll often began talking at abnormal times - at night, in the afternoon, when it was in the cupboard and even when we placed it in the showcase! At times we only heard the awful laughter. I would then jump and switch it off.

Our younger daughter found this quite amusing while the elder one felt that our fears were unfounded, although unable to come up with any fathomable or plausible explanation herself.   

As there was no sentimental attachment to this doll, and we were leaving for Dubai in a week, we left it in the house along with a few other toys, rather than throw it away.

The next tenant probably found it. Not sure if it is still talking and laughing or whether that show was only for our benefit.

Would love to know.

I have the WhatsApp blues

 

  

Yippee – I have been added to the 27^th, 30^th or 34^th WhatsApp group!

My popularity is soaring, and I am over the Moon or Mars or Neptune for that matter! Truly, my joy knows no bounds, and my cup runneth over.

On a more serious note, I am overwhelmed & at times feel swamped, as WhatsApp and WhatsApp groups are playing ducks and drakes with the world, often stressing me and probably others out, and taking up valuable time. I am positive  I am not alone in this harrowing quagmire.

Do I reply?  Must I reply? What if I don’t? What will they think? Will they be annoyed?

These questions vex me.

There is a belief that when WhatsApp entered the world, our lives changed forever, and things will only get more irksome. This is now a self-evident truth

When WhatsApp first started, I enjoyed it. Now I am beginning to loathe it. I think I know what you will advise – “Delete WhatsApp and be done with it”. However, that is easier said than done, for innumerable reasons.

Was checking my WhatsApp messages at 5 am today, and I that is insane – I have been added to innumerable groups and I get and send far too many WhatsApp messages every day. I have joined some groups willingly. I enjoy them and the light-hearted banter they provide- some for work related purposes -  as for others, the less said the better.

  Surprisingly, I have lost track of the number of groups I am part of - extended family, immediate family, various work related, hometown/ country, school and college, residential society, musical pals, and new friend’s groups. Old pupils, old friends, vague acquaintances, classmates, poetry lovers, story writers, cat lovers, baking aficionados, just for fun, animal lovers and collector groups. You go to a wedding, party, picnic, or barbecue and someone or the other makes and adds you to a new group to either plan the next event or just keep in touch.

 Thankfully, this has not happened after a funeral yet, but you never know. Someone may think of ‘funeral buddies’ or ‘pall bearers! God forbid if that happens!

Many of these groups have their parts and subgroups too. Numerous people I know are on common groups, and that’s even worse. Almost all have been started by people I know, so that’s the awkward part!

 I am the administrator of no group, as I believe that I lack those essential leadership skills.

However, I am literally up to the gills, after being inundated with good jokes, lame jokes, photographs, videos, good morning, good night, & have a nice day messages, unnecessary videos, irritating poems, blessings, memes, tips and tricks, official messages, and the like - daily. Then there are those appallingly, grisly chain messages, informing me that if I do not forward to ten people within five minutes, I will fall ill, or my nose will fall off or something to that effect. Some promise rewards from above!

 This morning I counted over 75 WhatsApp messages, and then stopped counting, as my head began spinning, my nose itching & my eyes crossing.

At midnight, India time, my phone routinely goes ‘ping’. On the few occasions I have been awake, and that is rare, I have scrolled down to see ‘Good Morning’ messages beginning to fill my inbox.  For goodness’s sake have mercy, ‘GET TO BED’ and let me have a peaceful night’s sleep! I am no nyctophile. There are still a few hours for morning to break.  

Occasionally, there will be a group message during the witching hours, when the owls are out hunting, and within a few minutes everyone else is commenting, advising, suggesting, congratulating, counseling, thanking, condoling or whatever. Don’t people have a life? I can understand if there is an emergency, but making it a habit, is nauseating, irritating and oh so very exasperating.

I was once on a plane to Pune, and about to doze off, when some people got talking and I got drawn into the conversation because I opened my big mouth and said that Pune was home!

 Yes, you guessed it right – one over enthusiastic gentleman was so delighted with his newfound friends, which included me, that he immediately took everyone’s number; there were seven of us; took a group selfie at past one in the morning, immediately formed a WhatsApp group, without so much as a by your leave, named it ‘Happy Pune travellers’ and sent us the photograph while we were still at passport control. Everyone looked dishevelled, disoriented, uninterested and groggy.  By the time I got into the taxi, I had received jokes, snaps of his family and pet dogs, a few holidays snaps of him in Dubai, and an invitation to dinner at his place to catch up.  He requested all of us to reply with similar pictures, so that we could get to know each other better. I never did, I never went, and I ensured that I promptly exited the group the same day!

Now please do not get me wrong – some of the groups I am part of are useful, and save time, which otherwise would be spent in sending emails but there must be a limit. Others are relaxing, amusing, help us keep in touch and I enjoy them.  

At times if you are part of a large group and everyone comments on a particular post, you feel compelled to do the same, lest you be termed anti-social, uninterested, or uninvolved, and we all know how quick society is to become judge, jury, and executioner!

I was once part of a group and tried to exit quietly and politely after not actively participating for over a month. Within the hour I got umpteen messages asking me why I was angry, did I have more exciting things to do, had I joined a rival group, calling me boring, and one or two which bordered on uncivil, and insulting! Leaving a WhatsApp group is like leaving the dinner table and saying, ‘I am fed up with you bores, hence I am off home’!

 I will admit that I have, over the years, joined this bandwagon of busybodies and at times forward unnecessary stuff too. It is so easy to pick up dirty habits. I plan to cease doing so, as I feel it is not sensible or practical – that is my summer resolution!

So, if you don’t get a reply to a message you know why!

Remember the hit song Hotel California?

"Relax, " said the night man,
"We are programmed to receive.
You can check-out any time you like,
But you can never leave! "

Sums up Social media, doesn’t it?

 

 

(I do not mean to hurt or insult anyone – family, friends, colleagues, and ex pupils, as WhatsApp does have its plus points but this is becoming a case of ‘too much for an old man to handle).

 

Stop this witless madness please

 

Which wooden headed, bird brained, dingbats have concluded that everything should reopen, no masks need be worn, and social distancing is a thing of the past?

Declaring ‘Independence’ from Covid is certainly premature I should say.  

Here in the UAE, we are still so very careful, and masks, social distancing and safety rules are being followed conscientiously. We are learning to live with Covid, and that is intelligent, because Covid has not gone away, by any stretch of imagination.  

However, the newspapers this morning carried bizarre stories, of how governments, in some parts of the world had made such doltish decisions, and it filled me with a sense of angst, as cases are still rising!

Let’s put things in the correct perspective please.

Now I am no medical, or to put in more precisely, No Vaccine expert , but I have a certain amount of common sense, or at least I think I do, and hence I beg to be enlightened.

The Delta variant is hovering around the world menacingly, threatening to strike any and everywhere on a large scale, and run rampant. If intelligent reports are to be believed, this will be the third, and even more treacherous wave, so we need to be prepared and take the necessary precautions.  Medical professionals and other experts in the field have commented upon and debated this topic over the last three weeks or more, so it is not just a prediction of Nostradamus. It is the truth.

 Although agencies and governments are working around the clock, vaccines are still in awfully   short supply in many countries. About 15 % of the world’s population are fully vaccinated and 25 % of the world’s population have received just one dose- both woefully low figures- and I am not blaming anyone.  We are trying and it is difficult – point noted. Recovery rates are improving in some parts of the world, and that is a good sign.

So, pray, what is the hurry to proclaim ‘VICTORY’ and throw caution to the wind? It is this very impatience which caused the horrifying second wave. Have our brains gone so foggy, that we have forgotten the suffering and the deaths of just a few months ago? Do we want a repeat performance?

  The Delta variant was declared a “variant of concern” by the World Health Organization in mid- May. The designation is used when there is increased evidence that a variant is more transmissible, causes more severe illness or reduces the effectiveness of vaccines or treatments.

Put on the television and you will see milling, joyous crowds, in celebratory modes, without masks, in many countries, shopping, holidaying, partying and at various games. This must be the height of insanity.  Covid is a ‘world pandemic’ and we have seen how easily it breaches boundaries. This is no rocket science. What further proof of impending danger are we waiting for?

Yes, we all want economies to recover, and we all want to get back to normal as soon as possible but this witless madness should cease and we MUST BE CAREFUL and ALERT.

For goodness’s sake – ‘Wake up and smell the roses’, or are you waiting for the roses on your grave?

 

 Remember, “Fools rush in where angels fear to tread’’