Dream Come True.

Way back in the early seventies of the last century, someone very dear to me came to stay with us for a few months till he could find his own digs in a strange city.

Having just acquired a degree in Chemical Engineering, he had got himself a job through campus recruitment and was quite thrilled to be independent after many years of being a dependent.

During those times of talking about his future, he would repeatedly tell us that he will one day buy himself a Maserati. Those were the days when India produced three brands of cars none of which would compare anywhere near a Maserati and in any case, unless one bought a second hand Indian one at a higher price than a brand new one, due to long waiting periods for delivery after booking, such dreaming was rather unrealistic.

Unrealistic that is for others but, not for that young man.

Fast forward to forty years later to 2011 and that not so young man, bought himself a BMW. I had not known about his purchase and had gone to visit him when he suggested that we go for a drive and took me down to the garage where the BMW was waiting for him.

I have known that man from his childhood and had never seen a bigger grin on his face than what I saw that day. He said, “No, not a Maserati but, I have settled for a BMW.”
I got this image this morning from another friend in WhatsApp. I promptly forwarded the image to that man with the comment: “You did not. ❤️ “

A Strange Day.

A cousin who I am in regular touch with sent me this poem yesterday in WhatsApp.
VOID IN LIFE

The passing-away of
one’s better-half
Leaves a great void
in one’s daily life
Pondering over days
spent together
Appears impossible
to re-live twice
The goodness of life
one had enjoyed
Now appears like a
star in the sky
Can only visualise but
can-not realise
It is fact of Life, one
can summarise
The passing away of
one’s better-half
Leaves a great void
in one’s daily life.

He explained later that it was from a dear friend of his who had recently lost his wife.

Having experienced the loss of my wife I could relate and was mulling over the experience when my door bell rang, unusually by someone ringing it three times.

It spoiled my reverie and I went to open the door fully determined to let whoever it was who had done that a piece of my mind only to find that it was my elderly neighbour. On seeing her, my mood immediately changed and I opened the door to find out what prompted her to come over as, she rarely leaves her home as both she and her husband are not in the pink of health. I had not seen either of them since the outbreak of covid early last year.

She wanted to come inside to meet “Memsahib”. I thought that she wanted to meet my daughter in love and said that she was off at work and will return only late in the evening. She then interrupted me to ask to meet my wife.

I was totally zapped and told her that my wife had died twelve years ago. On hearing this, she broke down and I had to bring her in and make her sit down to recover. I then understood that her illness also included some element of dementia as, she kept talking about things that were ancient.

I had to calm her down, pacify her, talk about other things about our neighbourhood for about fifteen minutes and then escort her back to her home just across a landing from ours.

This was an unusual coincidence and I am still wondering if some kind of message is being sent to me!

What do you, my dear reader, think?

A Very Pleasant Surprise.

I got a phone call early this morning from a young man APG, whom I had first met 31 years ago when he would have been around five years old. He and two other young lads in their family were the first children ever to call me Thatha, which is Tamil for Grandfather.

I used to meet him regularly at his home town where I used to visit on business. His father and other elders of his family were/are good friends and business associates. In fact, one of his cousins had adopted me as his godfather and continues to me treat me as such even now.

The purpose of the phone call was to take my blessings on his birthday which is today. I had not known this as, otherwise, I would have greeted him on my own earlier than his call.

This is the first time ever that he had called me for this special purpose and apart from being mightily pleased, I was also puzzled as to why he did so on this birthday.

I then remembered that his father and my friend GP,  had died just over a year ago as had his elder uncle shortly after, both due to complications arising out of Covid.

It is the custom in our families for people to seek the blessings of parents/elders on their birthdays and other important days, and since APG did not have his father anymore, he had decided to call me.

What a wonderful thought and tradition.

Learning – 5. Triskaidekaphobia.

I know that the number 13 is considered to be unlucky for many and also know that the fear of the number has a name. I however find it extremely difficult to remember the tongue-twister triskaidekaphobia and have to google for it at need.

Another WhatsApp forward came to remind me of it.  Please click on the image for a larger resolution.


Lucky, unlucky or whatever, I have experienced a personal loss on a double so called bad luck day. A Friday the thirteenth. Despite that I would not mind staying in a room number 13 on the 13th floor of a hotel. How about you?

A Very Useful Book.

During the lockdown that has now entered its 18th month for us, I have had the honour of mentoring four different young men, all with marital difficulties.

In all the cases, the main culprit is, the breakdown of communications during the lockdown which meant loss of income, or working from home. In both cases, the claustrophobic existence within homes and the very unusual constant physical proximity to each other would appear to have been responsible for the discomforts.

A further reluctance to go for counselling or consultation with professionals led these young men to approach me for advice and finding that essentially, the problem was break down of communications I had recommended the reading of one book which has turned out to be a kind of panacea of sorts.

I had come across the book in the early seventies in my own journey of discovery of communication skills through attending seminars which was part of my training and development in the organisation where I was working. There is no doubt in my mind that the book taught me very valuable lessons which enabled me to be a fairly successful manager of people and other resources.

I am sure that many of readers would have read it at some point of time in the past and hope that they will agree with me that it is a remarkable tool to improve our communication skills. And the book is:
If you are interested in finding out more about the contents of the book you can do so here.

A Great Tribute.

A very dear friend has sent me this message on WhatsApp. It is a tribute from a son to his late father who was a Medical Practitioner. I wish to share it with my readers as, this is an unusual request which touched me deeply as I am sure it will my readers.

“August 1st will mark 8 years since my dad passed away. I still think of him every day.

There are two kinds of intelligence, in my book. One is conventional intelligence, the other is disruptive intelligence. The latter is the kind that changes the world – through a scientific breakthrough, or the development of a new drug or technology.

Baba’s intelligence was the latter – a ferocious, disruptive intelligence, that, combined with his courage, his insistence on questioning everything, integrity, compassion and impish, irreverent sense of humour, made him special.

I haven’t inherited that level of intelligence, but hopefully have inherited some of his other traits.

I always remember how his shoulders shook and his eyes crinkled when he laughed. I remember how when we visited the small town of Almora in the Himalayas on vacation, he would dispense free medical advice and medicines he paid for himself, to dozens of poor villagers who would line up outside my grandfather’s door every morning. He asked for nothing in return. I remember his courage at the end of his life, when he calmly told me he would die that very day, after seeing his own electrocardiogram.

I remember everything. The greatest lesson he taught me was to take nothing at face value, and to investigate everything, and only believe something if it was rooted in fact and backed up by evidence. He was afraid of nothing, and would never back down if he knew he was right about something.

So on August 1st, it would be great if you could take a moment out of your day to remember a remarkable man.

Thank you.”