The rain is coming down in sheets and here I am waiting for Rion to pick me up after work. This has become our routine ever since we relocated to Pune. People around me under the bus shade are also waiting for the rain to subside before they can scurry off to complete their chores. A radio somewhere is belting out Bollywood golden oldies - as if to keep our spirits high in spite of the damp cold weather. But hang on... what's that again? The song, I mean. Isn't it the same number that was playing the very first time Rion had come to pick me up after work?
Cut to July 31, 2005. Mumbai. Andheri station, Harbour line. The city had witnessed its worst flood in a 100 years, only 5 days back. The trains had just started plying after the deluge. My fifth floor Navi Mumbai apartment was totally washed out with the water seeping in through the door connecting the bedroom with the balcony. So I had taken refuge at a friend's cousin's place that was comparatively dry. It was at Nilakshi's that I met Rion - another of their cousins. He had seemed a bit of a flirt right away, but charming at the same time. I was curious about him, but not really interested in anything long term. He simply didn't look the type.
On the second day of my stay, I had come home to clean up my flat. Rion had offered to help but all he did on reaching my place was sleep and snore, just to make up for being out all night, most probably partying. Later that day we discovered each other and after a heart-to-heart, Rion insisted I go back to his cousin's place with him. So, there I was in Andheri again, returning from work the next day.
The rain hadn't stopped and was particularly heavy at the time I got off the train. Slowly I was walking towards the exit, wondering if I should wait for a while or just make a dash to catch the nearest rickshaw. And this very song - a popular Bollywood number on romance in the rain - was blaring off somebody's mobile radio. And then, I saw him. He was standing near the exit, holding on to a dripping brolly and feeding a wet hungry dog a packet of glucose biscuits. That was the moment I fell in love.
He had wanted to surprise me by coming to pick me up from the train station, and what a pleasant surprise it was! He is man of surprises. He loves to take you by surprise - and revels at your pleasure!
Rion was actually looking for an accommodation and so had put up with his cousin. So, instead, he moved in with me. In about two weeks, we went on a trip to Goa and that's when he proposed marriage. But I asked for time, not knowing that I had already conceived our daughter! When I did discover a few weeks later, my life turned on its head. I wanted to get married the next day or go for a termination, but Rion backed out thinking I had agreed to marry him only for the baby. Neither did he support my abortion. After a series of messy situations, we agreed on a business proposal: we will be married till the child is born and then we go our separate ways. Getting the marriage legalised involved some serious manipulation; finally, we got our respective families to accept our marriage.
But the biggest surprise of all is the fact that our marriage clicked. Through all these upheavals, we learned to bond somewhere, somehow. People go through a lot of speculations and logical analyses - not just them but their parents and their parents too - before plunging into a marriage. Even then, at times they end up in divorces or non-functional marriages. But destiny seemed to push us into ours, with little time to think or analyse. So far it's been good. No regrets. The future's not ours to see...
I snap back to the present as Rion halts in front of me and jump into the car. The song is still playing on the car stereo. "Remember this song?," I ask him.
Saturday 31 October 2009
Thursday 16 April 2009
You raise me up to more than I can be
Read an interesting article today - Obituary of the late Mr Common Sense.
So very true!
Then, my MIND flipped on to this ">song
The lyrics are here for you to hum along:
When I am down and oh my soul, so weary,
When troubles come and my heart burdened be,
Then I am still and wait here in the silence,
UNTIL you come and sit a while with me.
You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains,
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas,
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders,
You raise me up To more than I can be.
You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up To more than I can be.
You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains,
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas,
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders,
You raise me up To more than I can be.
You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains,
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas,
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders,
You raise me up To more than I can be.
- Westlife.
Thank you very much. That was really 'uplifting'!
So very true!
Then, my MIND flipped on to this ">song
The lyrics are here for you to hum along:
When I am down and oh my soul, so weary,
When troubles come and my heart burdened be,
Then I am still and wait here in the silence,
UNTIL you come and sit a while with me.
You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains,
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas,
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders,
You raise me up To more than I can be.
You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up To more than I can be.
You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains,
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas,
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders,
You raise me up To more than I can be.
You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains,
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas,
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders,
You raise me up To more than I can be.
- Westlife.
Thank you very much. That was really 'uplifting'!
Friday 27 February 2009
oRiOn's Rant of the Day - our Boys in Blue (BiBs)
I'm gonna keep this short and sweet (NOT!) - more like short and to-the-point.
Why, I hear you ask?
'Cos it still hurts - and I'm too pained by it all.
Why do our Boys in Blue (BiBs) have to go and lose the T20 series to the Black Caps when they managed to beat just about everybody else in the last few months?
I mean, does this make an iota of sense to you? Do you even know the population of Kiwiland? Its like the population of Andheri - 4 million! Its a wonder that they can even get 11 lads to knock a ball around on the cricket pitch! And to add insult to injury, they play cricket PART TIME!!!
Smells fishy, don't you think? REEKS of MATCH FIXING!
And to think that I had a buck (well, maybe a few) riding on the outcome.
I'm hopping mad, I tell you - there I was, thinking I'd recover my wager with some beer money thrown in for the weekend so I can go out and be a REAL MAN, and now this!
A big frigging hole in my pocket. Feel so like a lowlife right now.
Looks like I'm going to have to slum it out this Friday night - having spent my allowance backing our BiBs.
Sheesh!
Never again. I've said that to myself before, and the BiBs have kinda built up my confidence in them, having knocked the stuffing out of the Aussies and the Lankans and the Saffas - but now I'm shattered. And to think that some bookies are laughing all the way to the bank (Jannat-eshtyle) with MY MONEY makes me sick to tmy stomach...
Nah, I'm just down in the dumps for now, mateys.
Waaaah! Mummy! She's just about the only person who can console me right now.
oRiOn
Why, I hear you ask?
'Cos it still hurts - and I'm too pained by it all.
Why do our Boys in Blue (BiBs) have to go and lose the T20 series to the Black Caps when they managed to beat just about everybody else in the last few months?
I mean, does this make an iota of sense to you? Do you even know the population of Kiwiland? Its like the population of Andheri - 4 million! Its a wonder that they can even get 11 lads to knock a ball around on the cricket pitch! And to add insult to injury, they play cricket PART TIME!!!
Smells fishy, don't you think? REEKS of MATCH FIXING!
And to think that I had a buck (well, maybe a few) riding on the outcome.
I'm hopping mad, I tell you - there I was, thinking I'd recover my wager with some beer money thrown in for the weekend so I can go out and be a REAL MAN, and now this!
A big frigging hole in my pocket. Feel so like a lowlife right now.
Looks like I'm going to have to slum it out this Friday night - having spent my allowance backing our BiBs.
Sheesh!
Never again. I've said that to myself before, and the BiBs have kinda built up my confidence in them, having knocked the stuffing out of the Aussies and the Lankans and the Saffas - but now I'm shattered. And to think that some bookies are laughing all the way to the bank (Jannat-eshtyle) with MY MONEY makes me sick to tmy stomach...
Nah, I'm just down in the dumps for now, mateys.
Waaaah! Mummy! She's just about the only person who can console me right now.
oRiOn
Thursday 26 February 2009
Rant of the Day - F***Book
Frigging Facebook!
Who do they think they are, huh?
First of all, they try to act all sneaky and change their ToS (Terms of Service) -
to cut a long story short, they removed a clause from their ToS which allowed users to withdraw the license it had granted to them over user information by deleting information. So under the new, proposed ToS, FBook would still have rights over DELETED INFORMATION for all perpetuity.
Here's a section describing this act of malfeasance in some detail (a thorough summary can be found here - http://www.plagiarismtoday.com/2009/02/17/the-facebook-tos-controversy/)
QUOTE: Facebook, in its TOS, gives itself “irrevocable, perpetual, non-exclusive, transferable, fully paid, worldwide license (with the right to sublicense) to (a) use, copy, publish, stream, store, retain, publicly perform or display, transmit, scan, reformat, modify, edit, frame, translate, excerpt, adapt, create derivative works and distribute” the work. It is a very wide swath of rights that many would be right to worry about giving away perpetually.
Previously, one had been able to “expire” the license by simply removing the content. With the change, that element of the license is gone, making it unclear how one would prevent Facebook from legally using the work of its users in a way that they didn’t intend. UNQUOTE
Anyway, Zuckerberg and co. have, for long, flirted with trouble - remember the allegations which were quietly settled outta court which focussed on the fact that his Harvard classmates gave him an application to develop and he ran away and started his own venture with the said idea....
I also find it really, REALLY annoying when I am invited to join various stupidass activities on Facebook and when I decide to take a look, i.e. dip my feet in the water, the activity application INSISTS on being given access to my PERSONAL information. Like I would agree! Go figure. Silly twits.
Done ranting for today - expending all my phlegmatic emotions in one sustained outburst. Damn Fbook! Damn social networking! The world was a better place without 'em! Down with Fbook! Whatever happened to conventional networking? The kind where REAL MEN sit around a bar, nursing a REAL drink (read, beer) and holding a REAL conversation (read, about women - if you'd narrow it down further, this conversation rarely went beyond tits and ass...okay, legs maybe).
Thats my take on all things which have the tag - 'internet social network' attached to them.
Now I'm off to check out Twitter - on which there will be a subsequent rant of some sort, you can be sure.
oRiOn
Who do they think they are, huh?
First of all, they try to act all sneaky and change their ToS (Terms of Service) -
to cut a long story short, they removed a clause from their ToS which allowed users to withdraw the license it had granted to them over user information by deleting information. So under the new, proposed ToS, FBook would still have rights over DELETED INFORMATION for all perpetuity.
Here's a section describing this act of malfeasance in some detail (a thorough summary can be found here - http://www.plagiarismtoday.com/2009/02/17/the-facebook-tos-controversy/)
QUOTE: Facebook, in its TOS, gives itself “irrevocable, perpetual, non-exclusive, transferable, fully paid, worldwide license (with the right to sublicense) to (a) use, copy, publish, stream, store, retain, publicly perform or display, transmit, scan, reformat, modify, edit, frame, translate, excerpt, adapt, create derivative works and distribute” the work. It is a very wide swath of rights that many would be right to worry about giving away perpetually.
Previously, one had been able to “expire” the license by simply removing the content. With the change, that element of the license is gone, making it unclear how one would prevent Facebook from legally using the work of its users in a way that they didn’t intend. UNQUOTE
Anyway, Zuckerberg and co. have, for long, flirted with trouble - remember the allegations which were quietly settled outta court which focussed on the fact that his Harvard classmates gave him an application to develop and he ran away and started his own venture with the said idea....
I also find it really, REALLY annoying when I am invited to join various stupidass activities on Facebook and when I decide to take a look, i.e. dip my feet in the water, the activity application INSISTS on being given access to my PERSONAL information. Like I would agree! Go figure. Silly twits.
Done ranting for today - expending all my phlegmatic emotions in one sustained outburst. Damn Fbook! Damn social networking! The world was a better place without 'em! Down with Fbook! Whatever happened to conventional networking? The kind where REAL MEN sit around a bar, nursing a REAL drink (read, beer) and holding a REAL conversation (read, about women - if you'd narrow it down further, this conversation rarely went beyond tits and ass...okay, legs maybe).
Thats my take on all things which have the tag - 'internet social network' attached to them.
Now I'm off to check out Twitter - on which there will be a subsequent rant of some sort, you can be sure.
oRiOn
Wednesday 25 February 2009
Daily Rant - Fake Eggs
WTF!
What is it about made-in-China goods that just gets under your skin?
They think they can 'manufacture' everything! Now, I reckon that recent efforts at non-proliferation had better take into account efforts made by the Chinese to flood world markets with cheaper (although of dubious quality), fake copies of everything under the sun! Now thats something worthwhile for Obamarama to think about as he chews the fat at the White (no wait, Black) House.
The latest from this stable of counterfeiting genie-asses is the FAKE EGG!
Yep, you read that right, folks - the Chinese have acquired the necessary expertise and technical know-how to manufacture fake chicken eggs.
How low can you get to make a quick buck, huh?
Check out this news article where you'll also gain a deep understanding of the processes involved, should you ever consider joining the ever growing ranks of the fake poultry entrepreneurs:
http://www.weirdasianews.com/2007/05/04/chinas-10-steps-to-make-a-fake-egg/
Even the venerable South China Morning Post picked this up:
Read on:
"Suspected artificial eggs discovered in Macau
Danny Mok and Fox Yi Hu
Feb 20, 2009
www.scmp.com
Suspected fake eggs from Hubei have been found in Macau after reports of their discovery in Fujian this week.
Macau resident Mrs Wong, who ate six suspected manmade eggs that tasted strange to her, said they appeared to be like ordinary ones. The eggs had Hubei province as the source, a batch number and date printed on the shell, Macau TV station Teledifusao De Macau reported.
Mrs Wong, who is eight months pregnant, said she bought the eggs from the Iao Hon Market. “The yolk is different from an ordinary yolk, you can see it’s rubbery [after being cooked]. When you break it open, it’s not powdery [like a normal yolk] … it’s entirely like rubber.”
Mainland reports of fake eggs being discovered in Xiamen, Fujian province, surfaced this week when a local person bought some from a street vendor and found the yolks could bounce after being cooked. An official from Macau’s Civic and Municipal Affairs Bureau said it had received 10 reports of suspected fake eggs since last month.
He said samples had been taken from stores for tests and results would be available in two to three days.
Hong Kong’s Centre for Food Safety said that egg imports from Hubei could be found in the city, and it would examine all imports."
Man, there are times when I'm so glad to be living in India.
Jai Ho!
oRiOn
What is it about made-in-China goods that just gets under your skin?
They think they can 'manufacture' everything! Now, I reckon that recent efforts at non-proliferation had better take into account efforts made by the Chinese to flood world markets with cheaper (although of dubious quality), fake copies of everything under the sun! Now thats something worthwhile for Obamarama to think about as he chews the fat at the White (no wait, Black) House.
The latest from this stable of counterfeiting genie-asses is the FAKE EGG!
Yep, you read that right, folks - the Chinese have acquired the necessary expertise and technical know-how to manufacture fake chicken eggs.
How low can you get to make a quick buck, huh?
Check out this news article where you'll also gain a deep understanding of the processes involved, should you ever consider joining the ever growing ranks of the fake poultry entrepreneurs:
http://www.weirdasianews.com/2007/05/04/chinas-10-steps-to-make-a-fake-egg/
Even the venerable South China Morning Post picked this up:
Read on:
"Suspected artificial eggs discovered in Macau
Danny Mok and Fox Yi Hu
Feb 20, 2009
www.scmp.com
Suspected fake eggs from Hubei have been found in Macau after reports of their discovery in Fujian this week.
Macau resident Mrs Wong, who ate six suspected manmade eggs that tasted strange to her, said they appeared to be like ordinary ones. The eggs had Hubei province as the source, a batch number and date printed on the shell, Macau TV station Teledifusao De Macau reported.
Mrs Wong, who is eight months pregnant, said she bought the eggs from the Iao Hon Market. “The yolk is different from an ordinary yolk, you can see it’s rubbery [after being cooked]. When you break it open, it’s not powdery [like a normal yolk] … it’s entirely like rubber.”
Mainland reports of fake eggs being discovered in Xiamen, Fujian province, surfaced this week when a local person bought some from a street vendor and found the yolks could bounce after being cooked. An official from Macau’s Civic and Municipal Affairs Bureau said it had received 10 reports of suspected fake eggs since last month.
He said samples had been taken from stores for tests and results would be available in two to three days.
Hong Kong’s Centre for Food Safety said that egg imports from Hubei could be found in the city, and it would examine all imports."
Man, there are times when I'm so glad to be living in India.
Jai Ho!
oRiOn
Tuesday 24 February 2009
oRiOn's Rants and Raves
Well, if you're stumped by the title of this post and its implications, look no further than the name of the blog...Gotcha!
As a matter of fact, I thought I'd do the ol' missus a favour, because it appears that she can't be arsed updating her blog (the last post was more than a month ago) - IMHO, a rather irreverant and disrespectful attitude towards your readership, which has lots of attractive options on the menu as far as the blogosphere is concerned.
So, good lil boy scout that I am, I decided to do 'er a favour and thrash out a post, whilst nursing a serious hangover. Ain't I a dah-lin? Perhaps I'll get rewarded later on tonight - we shall see. Or perhaps spanked? Hm, I might enjoy that too :)
Those of you who know me for my mild-mannered submissions or lovey-dovey eulogies / elegies will probably notice the departure from the aforementioned styles, but hey, I've got it in me to be raving / rantic individual (NOT LUNATIC) every once in a while.
Without further ado, I'll move on to the rant of the day.
Spam mail. Now don't get me started on this one, really don't. Because you might regret it. In fact, you WILL regret it. Therefore, in the public interest, I'll graduate to the runner-up rant of the day - gym memberships (and members).
Now, someone (lets call him LOSER) suggested, or perhaps dropped a rather unsubtle hint the other day, that I should consider joining a gym. I'm all for fitness and all that mambo-jambo (in between beers, mind you) but I'll have none of this bull-crap. Who do they think they are, having the gall to suggest politely that I should join the ranks of losers who sweat it out in airconditioned halls, instead of their bedrooms - how about being a jailbird and breaking stones as an alternative method of physical fitness? Would they consider that or give it some kind of exalted status? Harrumph!
Anyway, but I digress.
Gyms are gay. Yep, you heard it from me, folks and you heard it right.
I’m sorry, but gyms are gay. They are. They are full of muscled-up guys getting pointlessly more muscled-up, sneering at flabby gits in loose “gym clothes” trying to look more toned than the sack of wet vegetables they so closely resemble. Either flabby, or bony-arsed with dripping noses and dandruff. Gyms are horrible, horrible places. You could - *ulp* - run into LOSER in the showers, showing off his 6-inch ruler tat to a bunch of admiring biker-types with mutton-chops.
No, no, no.
The only correct and natural habitat for a Real Man (apart from in front of his own television) is in a bar; preferably at the bar (tables are gay). If you want exercise, lift a glass, or take a bracing hike to the toilet and back.
Of course, I speak as one of nature’s blessed men; one for whom a visit to a gym is not only tastelessly vulgar but almost comically unnecessary. I have the wand-like figure of a lad of some eighteen summers, tuned as taut as a violin string, gleaming and downily smooth … ’scuse me … just going for a wank . BRB.
Told ya, gyms are gay.
Nuff said.
oRiOn
As a matter of fact, I thought I'd do the ol' missus a favour, because it appears that she can't be arsed updating her blog (the last post was more than a month ago) - IMHO, a rather irreverant and disrespectful attitude towards your readership, which has lots of attractive options on the menu as far as the blogosphere is concerned.
So, good lil boy scout that I am, I decided to do 'er a favour and thrash out a post, whilst nursing a serious hangover. Ain't I a dah-lin? Perhaps I'll get rewarded later on tonight - we shall see. Or perhaps spanked? Hm, I might enjoy that too :)
Those of you who know me for my mild-mannered submissions or lovey-dovey eulogies / elegies will probably notice the departure from the aforementioned styles, but hey, I've got it in me to be raving / rantic individual (NOT LUNATIC) every once in a while.
Without further ado, I'll move on to the rant of the day.
Spam mail. Now don't get me started on this one, really don't. Because you might regret it. In fact, you WILL regret it. Therefore, in the public interest, I'll graduate to the runner-up rant of the day - gym memberships (and members).
Now, someone (lets call him LOSER) suggested, or perhaps dropped a rather unsubtle hint the other day, that I should consider joining a gym. I'm all for fitness and all that mambo-jambo (in between beers, mind you) but I'll have none of this bull-crap. Who do they think they are, having the gall to suggest politely that I should join the ranks of losers who sweat it out in airconditioned halls, instead of their bedrooms - how about being a jailbird and breaking stones as an alternative method of physical fitness? Would they consider that or give it some kind of exalted status? Harrumph!
Anyway, but I digress.
Gyms are gay. Yep, you heard it from me, folks and you heard it right.
I’m sorry, but gyms are gay. They are. They are full of muscled-up guys getting pointlessly more muscled-up, sneering at flabby gits in loose “gym clothes” trying to look more toned than the sack of wet vegetables they so closely resemble. Either flabby, or bony-arsed with dripping noses and dandruff. Gyms are horrible, horrible places. You could - *ulp* - run into LOSER in the showers, showing off his 6-inch ruler tat to a bunch of admiring biker-types with mutton-chops.
No, no, no.
The only correct and natural habitat for a Real Man (apart from in front of his own television) is in a bar; preferably at the bar (tables are gay). If you want exercise, lift a glass, or take a bracing hike to the toilet and back.
Of course, I speak as one of nature’s blessed men; one for whom a visit to a gym is not only tastelessly vulgar but almost comically unnecessary. I have the wand-like figure of a lad of some eighteen summers, tuned as taut as a violin string, gleaming and downily smooth … ’scuse me … just going for a wank . BRB.
Told ya, gyms are gay.
Nuff said.
oRiOn
Friday 16 January 2009
Affairs of the Heart
Came across this (before you ask, no nothing to do with me :) - but it sums up all the angst and the heartache associated with relationships, which are sometimes destined to end...
'I miss you. I still love you. I remember holding you and kissing you and it still makes my heart race to think about it. I know you will probably never see this but it makes my heart a little less heavy to put this out there. I wish we had been more open with each other while we were together. I wish we had shared our hopes and dreams sooner. I wish we had held hands more and talked more. I wish we had worked on "us", I wish I didn't give up, and I am sorry. I miss you and your family terribly. I have wondered for the last 10 years if you ever think of me and it makes me feel horrible to even say that. I think of the music and candles and you writing on my back and my whole body feels flushed. I remember the seadoo and the basement, I remember the island, the beach, your necklace. I remember it all and always will. But I also remember the feelings of helplessness and the sadness when we weren't together. I remember wanting to share more of my feelings with you but being afraid of you not reciprocating. I remember your smell that was so comforting. I remember your laugh. I remember being a part of your family but sometimes feeling so alienated from you. I remember looking forward to the mornings and afternoons when you would stop by. I also remember how badly my heart ached when you would not come to see me. I have never felt such incredible pain as when you broke up with me. I hope in the end when I left you that you didn't feel the amount of pain that I felt. I don't know what you are doing now or what I was hoping to accomplish. Part of me wants to ask you if you miss me, if you think of me, but then what? And what if you said that you hadn't thought of me in years. I wish you knew how many times I have started to pick up the telephone. I wish I could stop thinking about you, I wish there had been closure or.......Now I can only say I hope; I hope that if you see this you are well, happy. I hope that one day I will see you again........I hope; I need you to still love me, I need to believe that what we had was real. I loved you so truely and so deeply I can only hope that you did too. I love you and miss you and always will.'
oRiOn
'I miss you. I still love you. I remember holding you and kissing you and it still makes my heart race to think about it. I know you will probably never see this but it makes my heart a little less heavy to put this out there. I wish we had been more open with each other while we were together. I wish we had shared our hopes and dreams sooner. I wish we had held hands more and talked more. I wish we had worked on "us", I wish I didn't give up, and I am sorry. I miss you and your family terribly. I have wondered for the last 10 years if you ever think of me and it makes me feel horrible to even say that. I think of the music and candles and you writing on my back and my whole body feels flushed. I remember the seadoo and the basement, I remember the island, the beach, your necklace. I remember it all and always will. But I also remember the feelings of helplessness and the sadness when we weren't together. I remember wanting to share more of my feelings with you but being afraid of you not reciprocating. I remember your smell that was so comforting. I remember your laugh. I remember being a part of your family but sometimes feeling so alienated from you. I remember looking forward to the mornings and afternoons when you would stop by. I also remember how badly my heart ached when you would not come to see me. I have never felt such incredible pain as when you broke up with me. I hope in the end when I left you that you didn't feel the amount of pain that I felt. I don't know what you are doing now or what I was hoping to accomplish. Part of me wants to ask you if you miss me, if you think of me, but then what? And what if you said that you hadn't thought of me in years. I wish you knew how many times I have started to pick up the telephone. I wish I could stop thinking about you, I wish there had been closure or.......Now I can only say I hope; I hope that if you see this you are well, happy. I hope that one day I will see you again........I hope; I need you to still love me, I need to believe that what we had was real. I loved you so truely and so deeply I can only hope that you did too. I love you and miss you and always will.'
oRiOn
Tuesday 13 January 2009
Touched by humanity...!
At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves children with learning disabilities, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question:
'When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does, is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?'
The audience was stunned by the query.
The father continued. 'I believe that when a child like Shay, who was mentally and physically disabled comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.'
Then he told the following story:
Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, 'Do you think they'll let me play?' I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.
I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, 'We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.'
Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted.
In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three.
In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.
At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game?
Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.
However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact.
The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed.
The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay.
As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.
The game would now be over.
The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman.
Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game. Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates.
Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, 'Shay, run to first! Run to first!'
Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base.
He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.
Everyone yelled, 'Run to second, run to second!'
Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base.
By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball. The smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team.
He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head.
Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.
All were screaming, 'Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay'
Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, 'Run to third!
Shay, run to third!'
As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shay, run home! Run home!'
Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team.
'That day', said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, 'the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world'.
Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!
PS: This is actually a forwarded email from a friend, with a note saying that we forward crude and vulgar jokes without a thought, but when it comes to genuine public messages we often ignore or select our 'forward' list with care. Just to counter that, I am putting it up here where all my friends who visit my blog can read. Please make it a success!
'When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does, is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?'
The audience was stunned by the query.
The father continued. 'I believe that when a child like Shay, who was mentally and physically disabled comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.'
Then he told the following story:
Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, 'Do you think they'll let me play?' I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.
I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, 'We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.'
Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted.
In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three.
In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.
At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game?
Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.
However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact.
The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed.
The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay.
As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.
The game would now be over.
The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman.
Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game. Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates.
Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, 'Shay, run to first! Run to first!'
Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base.
He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.
Everyone yelled, 'Run to second, run to second!'
Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base.
By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball. The smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team.
He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head.
Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.
All were screaming, 'Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay'
Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, 'Run to third!
Shay, run to third!'
As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shay, run home! Run home!'
Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team.
'That day', said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, 'the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world'.
Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!
PS: This is actually a forwarded email from a friend, with a note saying that we forward crude and vulgar jokes without a thought, but when it comes to genuine public messages we often ignore or select our 'forward' list with care. Just to counter that, I am putting it up here where all my friends who visit my blog can read. Please make it a success!
Monday 12 January 2009
Audrey Hepburn's Beauty Tips
Here are some tips from someone who was widely regarded as one of the most beautiful women of her time...
"For attractive lips, speak words of kindness,
For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people,
For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry,
For beautiful hair, let a child run his/her fingers through it once a day,
For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone.
People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed; never throw out anyone.
Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you will find one at the end of each of your arms.
As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands; one for helping yourself, and the other for helping
others."
"For attractive lips, speak words of kindness,
For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people,
For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry,
For beautiful hair, let a child run his/her fingers through it once a day,
For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone.
People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed; never throw out anyone.
Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you will find one at the end of each of your arms.
As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands; one for helping yourself, and the other for helping
others."
The Zen of sarcasm
01. Do not walk ahead of me for I may not follow. Do not walk behind me for I may not lead. Do not walk beside me either. Just pretty much leave me alone.
02. The journey of a thousand miles begins with a broken fan belt and leaky tire.
03. It is always darkest before dawn. So if you're going to steal your
neighbor's newspaper, that's the time to do it.
04. Don't be irreplaceable. If you can't be replaced, you can't be promoted.
05. Always remember that you're unique. Just like everyone else.
06. Never test the depth of the water with both feet.
07. If you think nobody cares if you're alive, try missing a couple of car
payments.
08. Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticize them, you're a mile away and you have their shoes.
09. If at first you don't succeed, skydiving is probably not for you.
10. Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day. Teach him how to fish, and he will sit in a boat and drink beer all day .
11. If you lend someone $20 and never see that person again, it was probably a wise investment.
12. If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything.
13. Some days you're the bug; some days you're the windshield.
14. Everyone seems normal until you get to know them.
15. The quickest way to double your money is to fold it in half and put it back in your pocket.
16. A closed mouth gathers no foot.
17. Duct tape is like 'The Force'. It has a light side and a dark side, and it holds the universe together.
18. There are two theories to arguing with women. Neither one works.
19. Generally speaking, you aren't learning much when your lips are moving.
20. Experience is something you don't get until just after you need it.
21. Never miss a good chance to shut up.
02. The journey of a thousand miles begins with a broken fan belt and leaky tire.
03. It is always darkest before dawn. So if you're going to steal your
neighbor's newspaper, that's the time to do it.
04. Don't be irreplaceable. If you can't be replaced, you can't be promoted.
05. Always remember that you're unique. Just like everyone else.
06. Never test the depth of the water with both feet.
07. If you think nobody cares if you're alive, try missing a couple of car
payments.
08. Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticize them, you're a mile away and you have their shoes.
09. If at first you don't succeed, skydiving is probably not for you.
10. Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day. Teach him how to fish, and he will sit in a boat and drink beer all day .
11. If you lend someone $20 and never see that person again, it was probably a wise investment.
12. If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything.
13. Some days you're the bug; some days you're the windshield.
14. Everyone seems normal until you get to know them.
15. The quickest way to double your money is to fold it in half and put it back in your pocket.
16. A closed mouth gathers no foot.
17. Duct tape is like 'The Force'. It has a light side and a dark side, and it holds the universe together.
18. There are two theories to arguing with women. Neither one works.
19. Generally speaking, you aren't learning much when your lips are moving.
20. Experience is something you don't get until just after you need it.
21. Never miss a good chance to shut up.
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