<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35812532</id><updated>2011-04-21T12:38:22.514-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE RAMBLING SCRIBE</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ashu-nishu.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35812532/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ashu-nishu.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>THE RAMBLING SCRIBE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01705005033386200697</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35812532.post-9047438901640764596</id><published>2008-12-02T02:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T02:21:47.786-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_widz4LKzq5Y/STULuA9BwiI/AAAAAAAAAAY/4sQr-DWI49s/s1600-h/Bombay.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275135423692259874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 190px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_widz4LKzq5Y/STULuA9BwiI/AAAAAAAAAAY/4sQr-DWI49s/s320/Bombay.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;ENOUGH IS ENOUGH&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I must say, after being glued to the TV for the last 120 hours, not only have I learnt new terminology, it has made me realize that we live such a pretentious life that it has deluded us of the world we live in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching my beloved city Bombay going up in flames is not only disheartening but a rude reminder that we are all so dispensable. Here today, gone tomorrow. We are living a treacherous life today. Not only are we ridden with economic woes but now it is becoming apparent that certain individuals do not even want us to exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We listen to all the talk about the perpetrators entering our beloved city unbeknownst to the authorities. We blame the authorities, we blame the politicians. But what we forget to see is how over the years we have made Bombay such as aspirational city to live in. The tiny island has been bursting at the seams for a number of years now. Maybe the perpetrators had a final death wish that 'if they can never ever dream of living in this beautifully vibrant city, they should at least be allowed to die in it'. So Bombay being this overtly open and welcoming city that it is and the people of Bombay being the same, have allowed these SOB's to realize their final wish. The only difference is that Bombay does not allow them to overstay their welcome. All Bombay has to say to the perpetrators is "if you decide to bring in blood shed, you will be exterminated without any thought". Do not impose your cowardly act of stupidity on a city and a people that are way beyond a coward's comprehension.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I agree with Bombay - RESILIENT is not the word of the day. We were always RESILIENT. It is our Resilience that allows us to shine wherever we are in whatever we do. The words of the day my friends are COURAGE, BRAVERY, CONFIDENCE &amp;amp; CONVICTION. We will stand together as a people as much as certain individuals wish to break us. We will not allow religious differences to affect us because we are a secular country. Religion does not make the country, it is the people of the country that collectively make a NATION. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Signing out. More thoughts coming up soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35812532-9047438901640764596?l=ashu-nishu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ashu-nishu.blogspot.com/feeds/9047438901640764596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35812532&amp;postID=9047438901640764596' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35812532/posts/default/9047438901640764596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35812532/posts/default/9047438901640764596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ashu-nishu.blogspot.com/2008/12/enough-is-enough-i-must-say-after-being.html' title=''/><author><name>THE RAMBLING SCRIBE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01705005033386200697</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_widz4LKzq5Y/STULuA9BwiI/AAAAAAAAAAY/4sQr-DWI49s/s72-c/Bombay.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35812532.post-7003044491841554612</id><published>2008-11-28T11:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T02:17:22.383-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_widz4LKzq5Y/STBTBUBMdII/AAAAAAAAAAM/LWec1KNy3Zw/s1600-h/BEGINNING.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273806445669545090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 290px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_widz4LKzq5Y/STBTBUBMdII/AAAAAAAAAAM/LWec1KNy3Zw/s320/BEGINNING.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I AM BACK. Finally. 2 years since my last blog, I am back. The last 2 years have been more than traumatic. Too many losses, too much of grief, too many eye-openers, too much to digest.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is now time to start all over again. Life goes on. People move on as if nothing ever happened forgetting the good times. But as NDTV has posted today after Bombay's worst holocaust: ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Enough of being Diplomatic&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Enough of being the abused&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Enough of ignoring people's stupidites&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Enough of sacrificing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Enough of being sweet&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Enough of helping the unworthy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Enough of being the victim of jealousy (if you don't have it, then you don't deserve it). It is the same for us (we do not have everything maybe because we do not deserve to) - SO STOP LOOKING AT WHAT WE HAVE &amp;amp; WHAT YOU DON'T.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Start anew and flush out the crap from one's life or should I say SANITIZE one's life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35812532-7003044491841554612?l=ashu-nishu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ashu-nishu.blogspot.com/feeds/7003044491841554612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35812532&amp;postID=7003044491841554612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35812532/posts/default/7003044491841554612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35812532/posts/default/7003044491841554612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ashu-nishu.blogspot.com/2008/11/finally.html' title=''/><author><name>THE RAMBLING SCRIBE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01705005033386200697</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_widz4LKzq5Y/STBTBUBMdII/AAAAAAAAAAM/LWec1KNy3Zw/s72-c/BEGINNING.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35812532.post-116535653729664867</id><published>2006-12-05T13:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T09:09:45.251-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7764/3991/1600/711150/DSC01596.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7764/3991/320/802597/DSC01596.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;TWIST OF FATE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is one week since Adolf’s demise and the reality has not yet sunk in. There is not a single day that goes by without me thinking of him – not once but numerous times across the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is really very difficult to accept that I will never hear his voice or his witty remarks or witness those naughty eyes of his twinkling every time he saw a ‘booti-licious’ figure sashay past him accompanied by some smut under his breath that all of us would guffaw to unabashedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday November 17th after the gang had spent 2 hrs ‘ooohhhing’ &amp;amp; ‘aaahhhing’ watching Daniel Craig the new James Bond in Casino Royale lay out his wares on the silver screen, we rushed to Adolf’s side upon his call to Ashu requesting for help. In panic mode we reached the spot that he had directed us towards to find him sitting all alone on a street corner watching the world drive by and experiencing a dizzy spell. That sight was heart wrenching and somehow it has left an indelible impression in my mind. Even in that moment, all he was concerned about was that we should not panic and he kept directing our robotic movements. Upon Ashu’s insistence Adolf was gently lifted off his chair to the car and rushed to the hospital emergency much to his dismay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was bad that night and when the doctors told us that he had experienced a major heart attack and they could not really do much for him, our hearts sank. Calling the family was the most difficult task of all. Getting the visas for most of the family proved to be an even bigger Herculean task, even with the hospital providing the necessary documents to aid the process. Nonetheless all of his family excepting his son reached him and stayed with him till the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end was something that none of us, not even the doctors and neither Adolf himself expected. He had made a remarkable recovery for the last 72hrs prior to his demise. In those 72hrs he insisted that Ashu, myself &amp;amp; Roy be allowed to see him. Meeting him on the 27th was such a relief. He joked and spoke with us (albeit weakly) and even went to the extent of telling Ashu that he owed his life to us and that he would take all of our nonsense for the rest of his life. Whoever would have thought that the rest of his life would only last for the next couple of hours. When we were told that he has suddenly taken very bad we just could not believe our ears. He battled for his life, the doctors battled for his life and finally he gave up after 2 ½ hours breathing his last at 1:40am 28th November. What a twist of fate. Was God trying to tell us something or did Adolf have a premonition that he was sinking and therefore insisted that we all be by his side. Whatever the case, saying Goodbye was not easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here was a man who had fought 2 wars for India and lived to tell us so many interesting anecdotes from those days. His favorite dialogue whenever we pulled his leg about any of his bravery stories would be ‘When I was in Uniform, You guys were in liquid form’. He was a Retired Wing Commander of the Indian Air Force. He was a man who cared 2 hoots for peoples feelings – he said what was on his mind. He loved to have fun. He loved to sing and he loved to hear us sing. He had great plans for this X’mas creating his own choir using us mortal souls to go about Carol singing. He loved Ashu &amp;amp; me a lot. We know it, we felt it and we will miss it terribly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is so much to say that I could just go on and on and as he would said ‘why are you not coming to the point – you have gone all the way through Bhatinda to get here’. Basically all I want to say is that WE WILL MISS HIM TERRIBLY &amp;amp; we pray that his soul rests in peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Au Revoir Adolf. I will not say Goodbye. I am a strong believer that we will all be together in some other life time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until then………..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35812532-116535653729664867?l=ashu-nishu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ashu-nishu.blogspot.com/feeds/116535653729664867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35812532&amp;postID=116535653729664867' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35812532/posts/default/116535653729664867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35812532/posts/default/116535653729664867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ashu-nishu.blogspot.com/2006/12/twist-of-fate-it-is-one-week-since.html' title=''/><author><name>THE RAMBLING SCRIBE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01705005033386200697</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35812532.post-116349999431276173</id><published>2006-11-14T02:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T02:26:34.320-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7764/3991/1600/untitled.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7764/3991/320/untitled.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LIFE IS TOO PRECIOUS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The accidental death statistic in this tiny city has reached dismal heights. Over the last couple of weeks the newspapers have been littered with stories of people (in a lot of cases entire families) meeting tragic ends most often at the end of a happy outing. We read about these unfortunate people, we say a silent prayer for their souls and pray that such a fate should not befall us or anyone we know. Yet statistics have their way and it does happen to someone you know and then things become very gloomy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of our company’s HR Executives Abir and her fiancé were victims of a tragic accident this weekend. Their car apparently rammed into a trailer and both of them died on the spot. They were on their way to meet Abir’s parents in Abu Dhabi when this incident happened. I did not know Abir myself as I had not interacted with her. But I do recall her as this cute chubby young girl who used to be on the corridor smoking and talking over the telephone. She always had a certain spot on the corridor where she would stand dangling her arms on the railing with a very far off look and every time I brushed past her (me always at that hurried pace as if I were missing the bus to school), we would look at each other and smile. Never once did either of us talk to each other or even enquire “Hey how are things with you?” Now it will never happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I did not know the girl, when I heard the news of her death, an immense sadness and depression swept over me. The only thought that I had the entire day was: Why didn’t I take the initiative to talk to her at least once? I would know a little bit more about her than ‘she is the chick from HR’. That should not have been her identity. She was Abir and I am sure she stood for something more than HR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all live such fast paced lives and we take everything for granted. God has his way of slapping us back to reality. This is a rude reminder that we need to “Love thy neighbor as thyself”. We behave like such strangers, we go about our daily tasks not even knowing who our next door neighbor is or as in this case who our colleagues are and what do they stand for. Actually I should correct that statement. There are some people like my lovable husband who does in fact make the effort to get to know people that he comes across daily. He has always preached to me that just smiling does not mean anything. Unless I talk to someone (and of course it has to be me who should break the ice), no one is going to know who I am and what I stand for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically guys all I am trying to say is that Life is too small and too precious to let such opportunities pass you by. We need to make the time to stop, smile and talk to people – we don’t need to get inquisitive and pry but we should go past the cursory smile. Show some care and concern for people around us. Do not expect people to be caring and concerned towards you unless you show an inkling of concern towards them. No wonder why Ashish (husband dearest) is loved by so many and I am barely spoken about. He epitomizes care and concern for general humankind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is too short to be picky about who you want to get to know and who you don’t. Whatever you may decide, I have one request for everyone. PLEASE DRIVE CAREFULLY &amp;amp; PLEASE DO NOT DRINK AND DRIVE (even if it is a sip).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35812532-116349999431276173?l=ashu-nishu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ashu-nishu.blogspot.com/feeds/116349999431276173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35812532&amp;postID=116349999431276173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35812532/posts/default/116349999431276173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35812532/posts/default/116349999431276173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ashu-nishu.blogspot.com/2006/11/life-is-too-precious-accidental-death.html' title=''/><author><name>THE RAMBLING SCRIBE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01705005033386200697</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35812532.post-116057082651164170</id><published>2006-10-30T23:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-31T02:22:45.860-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7764/3991/1600/Desert%20Eid%20Party%20086.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7764/3991/320/Desert%20Eid%20Party%20086.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AN ODE TO FRIENDSHIP&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pristine beaches, calm waters, cool breezes, ultimate pampering. These have been just some of my thoughts over the past few weeks. Saying I needed a break would be an understatement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But all these thougths were thrown out the window after last weeks long Eid break. I was off work for 6 days and believe me it has been quite a while since I had such a fun time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prior to the holidays commencing I was surrounded at work by people who had planned exotic breaks to Bangkok, Phuket, Mauritius, Beirut etc. etc. I went through a bout of real misery wondering why I could not do the same for myself. To top it off, my birthday was fast approaching and the yearly ritual that my parents had started eversince my 1st birthday of throwing lavish parties was a distant possibility as Ramadan was still on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I was miserable that I could not travel and even more miserable that I could not have a huge birthday bash. I had therefore resigned myself to an entire weekend of shopping or any other similar mindless activity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little did I know that things would take a turn for a better. It all started off with a Diwali party at Jinesh &amp; Poojas place. Very sweet of them to bring in my birthday. We did have our fun of bursting some crackers that night. Thank God for small mercies - because 2 days later, on the actual Diwali day a moron snatched our crackers away from us. Anyways on my birthday a last minute decision to get all our friends to join us at the boardwalk was an excellent idea. It was an extremely chilled out evening and we ended up being at the Boardwalk for 7 hours. That was indeed a record.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was on that evening that we decided that we should continue our initial plans of going into the desert for Eid. This meant getting people to confirm, getting a fix on the costs, getting the food, the right booze, the desert camp et al organized in 2 days. A herculean task it might have been but if it was not for Prem and Bob who did most of the running around, this would not have been possible. Most of all it was our friends who willingly participated at such short notice that was even more commendable. The outcome: A FANTABULOUS night-out where we all got so sloshed and energised (I use the term energized because none of us could stop dancing - we danced for at least 6 hours at a stretch).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did I want the holiday in the first place? To Chill, To Relax, To Unwind. Did I achieve that? You bet I did and even more. Not only did I experience all of the above, but I got to do it with the people I love to be with. Now which holiday would have cost me less than Dhs.2000/- where I could be with all the people I love and yet do all the things I enjoyed? Not a fat chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways it is 1 week since we were in the desert and I distinctly remember what we were doing at this hour 7 days ago - Roy Bhaisaheb had just about reached the camp with the rest of the castways (I use the term castaways because they were literally left standing in the dark in the middle of the desert for almost 2hrs), Ashu had gone up and down the sand dunes about half a dozen times already and was in the middle of some daredevilry i.e. landing on his butt and making it down the slope in reverse (head came first, feet flailing in the air - trust only Ashu to achieve such dare devilry), Clive was on his 156th peg of the day, Adolf had already yelled at Bryan and some other unfortuante male soul who dared to ask him for a glass of wine (you see Adolf was saving that for us gals), Bryan &amp;amp; Sriram were making all the right moves on the dancefloor, Sid surprised me with his foot movement (great going Sid), Anil remained his confused self - not sure if he should dance with the gals or the guys, Prem was lost somewhere behind the bar, Sunny and Bob were on the dancefloor with their ladies literally celebrating Sunny &amp; Jules return to Dubai, Sheeba sat in a corner with her male troops staring at the dancefloor and shooting Ali with warning looks, Priya Viju Kamlesh &amp;amp; Ankita were really moving their booty &amp; continued to do so till the wee hours, Jinesh did his version of an Arabic/Hindi Dabki, Pooja gyrated around him, Michelle &amp;amp; Sandy looked like Amitabh &amp; Jaya on the dance floor with Sandy protectively dancing around Michelle, Sorab &amp;amp; Havi moved from one side of the dance floor to the other, Fares watched Sana and attempted to imitate her Bombayya dance moves, Bur &amp; Sharon were torn between dancing with the rest of us and keeping their friends entertained, Anoop, Manish &amp;amp; Sachin stood in the wings and watched the rest of us make asses of ourselves, Gupta finally got to have his first drink of the night, Xavier got his son to start dancing with him, Prateek (who in my minds eye is still 5 years old) in a very gentlemanly manner danced with his sister-in-law, Roy Bhaisaheb's office colleagues went into shock mode when they saw what his friends were like and of course lets not forget the Kids - they went completely beserk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of the above would have been possible without a bunch of friends who know how to make a fun moment happen. I would like to take this opportunity to thank all of them for making my Diwali/Birthday/Eid weekend wonderful and for wiping away my holiday blues completely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers Guys. Looking forward to even more wackier moments.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35812532-116057082651164170?l=ashu-nishu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ashu-nishu.blogspot.com/feeds/116057082651164170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35812532&amp;postID=116057082651164170' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35812532/posts/default/116057082651164170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35812532/posts/default/116057082651164170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ashu-nishu.blogspot.com/2006/10/ode-to-friendship-pristine-beaches.html' title=''/><author><name>THE RAMBLING SCRIBE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01705005033386200697</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35812532.post-116147156912159326</id><published>2006-10-21T15:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-21T15:59:29.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>RACISM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone has been a victim of some form of racism in their lifetime.  Yet, how many people would do anything about it? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A recent brush with the law in this city that everyone is beginning to hate has strengthened my conviction even more that this is not the place where I would want to grow old and thanks to the policeman who wrecked our fun, I am even more convinced that I DO NOT WANT TO OWN ANY PROPERTY in this unfair, plastic, artificially manufactured country. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am tired of living in a society that is so rife with jealousy, unfair competition, envy &amp; racism.  It is a constant fight to keep your head just above the surface without having people around you trampling all over your happiness.  At the workplace it is a cultural quagmire of screw ups.  At home one is surrounded by totally unfriendly unapproachable neighbors.  Friendship is a figment of ones imagination – everyone is too busy bitching about the other.  Why the hell are we suffering this shit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cultures and their habits &amp; practices are respected the world over.  But the Gulf has a different understanding on the issue.  According to the people of the region, the only cultures that should be respected are the Arab culture.  Why is that?  What is the reason for such a cultural divide?  Why is it that Indians as a race in general are looked down upon?  For the most part, it is us Indians to be blamed.  We are so non-confrontational that we are afraid to fight even if we are right.  We should be ashamed of ourselves for allowing illiterate barbarians to walk all over us.  And I would like to ask our fellow Indians in the UAE, especially the privileged few (that account for perhaps more than 50% of the country’s economy) why is it that they do not think of requesting our esteemed Consul General (whenever he &amp; his wife are free from their ‘Masala’ socialite evenings) to spare some time in helping the underprivileged Indian masses in the country.  Let me elucidate:&lt;br /&gt;We cannot celebrate our festivals freely.  The Consulate can provide the community with the basic service of providing us with the needed permissions that allow festivities.&lt;br /&gt;Social Services Centre:  Everyday we hear of underprivileged country cousins being treated unfairly (no salaries, no food, no visas) – Oh My God what more.  What is the Indian Consulate doing to help?  If they are not equipped to handle such issues, put out a request to the community.  I know, I for one would be happy to volunteer.&lt;br /&gt;Problem Resolution Centre:  Where do we go if we have a problem that needs immediate solving?  The Consulate in Dubai is a pathetic farce.  It treats the foreigners that come in to apply for a visa to India better than it treats the Indian citizens that it is supposed to support.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so upset with the policeman who came and disrupted our few moments of Diwali pleasure that I am blind with fury.  For all one knows, the man was acting on his own barbaric gut.  By rounding up a 1000 Indians for the night would perhaps be a triumphant moment that would go down in his professional achievements.  To see a group of 1000 Indians scurrying away in fright would have given him all the perverse pleasure he needs prior to Eid.  Talking and laughing about it amongst his cronies is going to make him the hero of the moment.  What would our Consul General do, if our friend (who was unfortunate to be caught with a bag full of firecrackers in his hand) were to be dragged and taken to the police station for an unfair trial?  Would he have left a ‘Masala’ socialite night and come to his rescue or would he be warming the cockles of his cold heart with a scotch on the rocks?  The latter I presume.  Because another Indian sent back to India shamefaced on unfair grounds has nothing to do with our Consul General.  He is only here to complete his tenure until he is dispatched to some other glorious destination of the world where he can continue ‘shmoozing’ around with the upper echelons of Indian society.  In the meantime my fellow underdog Expat Indians, we will continue to work our asses out in the Gulf, send our NRI money back home, help our Reserve Bank with foreign currency so that our fellow countrymen in glorious India lead more than comfortable lives (wayyyy more comfortable than us here).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a very bitter end to my birthday &amp; diwali celebrations.  I was wanting to write something more pleasant but all I wish at this moment is for the policeman who wrecked our joy to choke on a bone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35812532-116147156912159326?l=ashu-nishu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ashu-nishu.blogspot.com/feeds/116147156912159326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35812532&amp;postID=116147156912159326' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35812532/posts/default/116147156912159326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35812532/posts/default/116147156912159326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ashu-nishu.blogspot.com/2006/10/racism-everyone-has-been-victim-of.html' title=''/><author><name>THE RAMBLING SCRIBE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01705005033386200697</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35812532.post-116050761961392044</id><published>2006-10-10T12:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-29T12:36:24.926-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7764/3991/1600/DSC01869.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7764/3991/320/DSC01869.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having recently being introduced to the 'Blogosphere', it did not take much convincing (am sure much to the delight of my better half who has convinced himself that I am a stubborn mule that requires cajoling more than convincing in order to start 'ANYTHING' new) for me to get kick-started and spew my views to all and sundry who happen to drop by.Well, here goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;National Intergration!!! Huh? What? Why? No, No my fellow 'Blogoreans' it is not another attempt at World Peace. Although at times the situations that I manage to get myself into, make me wonder if attaining world peace would be a much easier task.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a Patriotic Expat Indian (funny how we become patriotic when we leave our country), I decided very early on in life (7 years old) that I would contribute to the National Integration of 'Hamara Pyara Hindustan'. How did that happen? Let me elucidate....Daughter of a Conservative Marthomite Malayali Father (he is my darling) &amp;amp; a Rowdy (in her heydays) Malayali Catholic mother (love her can't leave her - according to my better half, the umblical cord has not yet been cut), I was brought up as a Malayali Catholic in a typical Bombayya environment surrounded by Punjabis, Sindhis, Maharashtrians, Parsis, Gujratis, Jains, Goans, Manglorians, East Indians and every other religious and ethnic group of India. In that cultural melieu as dictated by the laws of physics 'opposites' did 'attract' i.e. bonny Malayali lass meets bonny Punjabi kudi and they hit it off from day one (at the age of 2). As the years passed somehow more and more Punjabi friends joined the fold and at the age of 7, I announced to Momsy dearest, that I will marry a Punjabi when I grow up. Momsy's reaction: 'Go and finish your homework'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That statement of mine was never repeated again and it was all but forgotten. Until recently. Years have passed and as fate demands, I have in fact married a Punjabi. How in earth did that happen? No idea. Did the statement that I made many years ago, which went ignored and unnoticed, stay lurking at the back of my mind? Did those initial years growing up surrounded by Punjabis gear me mentally towards looking for a particular partner? Hmmm Mystery...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being adventurous (sometimes dangerously) and innovative in nature, my family and friends were not at all surprised that I decided to tie the knot with someone who is the exact Opposite of ME. Lets put it this way. My better half and I epitomise OPPOSITES ATTRACT. He is Punjabi, I am Malayali. He is actually a Multani (he puts the word Fighter to shame), I guess I must be a Dravidian (being from the south) i.e. non-confrotational. He is a Hindu, I am a Christian. He grew up in Delhi, I grew up in Bombay (I refuse to refer to my fav city as Mumbai). He is a free spirited intellectual, I am a &lt;a href="mailto:tight-!@#ed"&gt;tight-!@#ed&lt;/a&gt; analyser. He is thin, I am ....let's say Well Endowed (much to his frustration) Pray, I can go on and on. There is nothing that is remotely similar in us. Yet he popped the question in a drunken stupor, I said Yes in an even more dazed stupor and 6 years hence we are still married. Wow!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;National Integration my dear friends. This is all I boil it down to. Of course we can attribute it to love. But lets leave it at AshuNishu's bit towards unifying that extremely diverse culturally melting pot that we all love and hate - HINDUSTAN!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35812532-116050761961392044?l=ashu-nishu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ashu-nishu.blogspot.com/feeds/116050761961392044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35812532&amp;postID=116050761961392044' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35812532/posts/default/116050761961392044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35812532/posts/default/116050761961392044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ashu-nishu.blogspot.com/2006/10/having-recently-being-introduced-to.html' title=''/><author><name>THE RAMBLING SCRIBE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01705005033386200697</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
