'Tis the season to be jolly...

Well, it's finally here. Winter, that is, or whatever semblance of the stuff we get down here. Still, there it is. Rummy thing about this season is, it creates activity. Everyone's either throwing parties, dinners, cocktails, or just packing off and going on a toot. An enormous percentage of the general population seems to find this season just the right time to jump off the dock (read get married). Perhaps it's the fallout of the activity epidemic or a realisation that all the days of the year have suddenly run out, so why not make the best of what's left and get hitched. I must confess at this point that I have the heart of an eternal bachelor, for it is I believe the only honourable estate which allows a man to preserve his mental equilibrium. But I digress, getting back to the nip in the air (and I use the expression loosely), it has it's pros and cons, but personally speaking, I think the pros outweigh the cons. True, one can sense the devious flu-bug flapping it's microscopic wings in the air, and one is gulping down copious amounts of Vitamin C and orange juice to ward off this killjoy; however, it is also the weather which heralds the advent of Christmas. Christmas in it's varied warm hues tends to uplift ones' spirits, gives a man hope and an inclination to look forward to the nicer things in life. Christmas Trees,Carols, Plum Puddings, Mistletoe, Stuffed Turkeys, Presents and of course good old Saint Nick, are thoughts which put a smile on the stiffest of stiff upper-lips. I may not believe there's an over-weight old gent clad in red nightwear swooping down the chimney with a sackful of goodies, but I have no shame in admitting that I do believe in Santa Claus. One has never forgotten writing letters to Santa, hanging Christmas stockings and waiting eagerly all night only to run out at the crack of dawn to unwrap the boxes beneath the Christmas Tree. Whatever emerged from those packages, be it ever so humble as a mechanical ladybug (one of my all time faves), it was magical. The festivities at home, the ever-running kitchen and the warmth of guests added to that magic. That, I believe still endures and that to me is the magic of Santa Claus and Christmas.

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas Lyrics

What Ho!

I know the past couple of my posts here have been a tad morbid, circumstances demanded they did. However, if I may be allowed to paraphrase, into each life some sun must shine. I'm not saying it is; I'm saying it might. I read P.G. Wodehouse when I'm down. His words have a habit of transporting one to a utopian paradise. A world which I grudgingly doubt existed even in his time, is brought to life is a lucid manner. It takes imagination, not only to write, but also to read a book. An art which sadly is slowly becoming extinct. To live in a world of Sir Watkyn Basset, Galahad Threepwood or Lord Ickenham (Uncle Fred), maybe an impossibility in today's dog eat dog world, but some still try to fashion some small nook of their lives in that manner. I certainly try, even if it is for a few hours.
The simpler things in life, believe it or not, still have the potential to give immense pleasure and satisfaction, if that's what you're looking for. So when you plan your trip for the upcoming festivities, buy a Wodehouse, retire to some tech-forsaken quiet place and enjoy the simple pleasures. Cheers!

Tsunami - Have we forgotten?

Recently, I had occasion to visit a part of Southern India (near Chennai). A beautiful sleepy village near the coast of the southern tip of the Bay of Bengal called Karikattu Kuppam. This is a village where an entire village of fishermen, whose entire lives were literally wiped out by the Tsunami, have been given temporary shelters, sanitation, means for livelihood and an elementary educational system by Freemasons who 'adopted' the entire village and true to form, are trying to provide them with much needed succour without Corporate sponsorship or Government support. I was surprised when I was met by smiling faces of the fishermen and shiny eyes of their children. For people who have had their lives violently changed, they seemed to exhibit amazing fortitude and a firm determination to piece their lives back together.

I was then taken to their original village which had been completely wiped out. When I saw rows and rows of abandoned houses which had been first in line to bear the brunt of the Tsunami, the horror of the disaster hit home. They coast ,they said was corroded by the Tsunami by over 200 yards. Not a single house in the village was intact. I met an erstwhile resident of the village who took me to show the remains of his house. Such was the tremendous force of the waves that even the iron grills of his windows were broken and bent out of shape. Even three years after the fateful day, Nagamani's eyes filled up as he recalled that day. He was playing in front of his house with his two children on his shoulders, his wife, his father and mother, his sister and his brother were inside the house just about 150 yards from the current shoreline. He pointed to the remains a coconut tree in front of his house and said the 2 waves were higher than the tree. In a matter of a few minutes all his family members, including his two children perched on his shoulders, were swept away by the gargantuan waves. He, Nagamani added with regret in his voice, was the only survivor.

I left that village a somewhat changed man. But, there is hope. A few acres of land have been acquired at a safe distance from the ocean but close enough for the fishermen to continue with their mode of livelihood and hopefully a colony shall be built for them on it.

Perhaps we may never be able to give them fair warning, we certainly cannot turn back the hands of time, but there are lessons that we could learn, from the Tsunami and from the indomitable spirit of these villagers.

One man, Two guns and 33 lives.

It's been a while since I've written here. I guess it takes comparatively complacent writers like me an event which touches the soul to jolt us out of our complacency. The events of yesterday in Virginia have shocked millions. It is not a tragedy of the magnanimity of 9/11 or the War against Terror, granted. What shocks us is the spilling of young, innocent blood. I was watching the Convocation at Virginia Tech today, and it wasn't the speeches that affected me most, it was the faces of the hundreds of students sitting on the sidelines; their morales broken, the look of utter despair and uncertainty on their faces, not to mention the ubiquitous sense of grief. An act of a deranged, depraved or perhaps disillusioned mind causing such mayhem! One man, Two guns and 33 lives. Perhaps it's time for America to rethink the hands they put these guns into.
For the students, the affected families and the faculty it is a time for introspection, and a time to start rebuilding. For what is lost cannot be regained, but what is present and what is to come may be safeguarded. So here's to all of them, God Bless & God Speed.