My Aside

Life

2008-09-01T21:00:00.001-04:00

Do not own anything,
Except this journey in time,
Of what I call life.

Widuri.

2008-08-29T23:40:00.002-04:00

Widuri will not mean much to many. Yet to many, it may.

Many things remind us of our childhood. Events. People. Food.

One of the things that reminds me of my childhood is the song Widuri, sung by a popular Indonesian singer Bob Tutupoli. My dad and I liked him and his songs.

I saw Bob Tutupoli at the Surabaya airport. After some prodding from my dad, I went upto him and smiled. We were leaving Indonesia that day and a part of my childhood as well.

With Widuri, it is easy for me to reach back to my childhood. The memories. What could have ... would have ... should have. All left there, in the innocence of time.

"Widuri ... oh sayang" (Listen here).

August 28, 2008

2008-08-28T23:10:00.002-04:00

A lot happened today, like any other day - in a small corner of the world and in my life. As this day winds to a close, a large marker was engraved in time. History was made and is being created. From across the Rockies comes a message. Promise.

Photographs

2008-08-18T19:00:00.002-04:00

Photographs are
silent sentinels
of the past,
from the past
smiling into the future.

Everyone who lived
irrespective of what life
threw at them
smiling.

Captured and caught in time
smiling for a better tomorrow.
Through time
sending us a reminder
that whatever it may be
or happens
life is worth ...
smiling.

Siblings and wonderful memories

2008-08-14T19:00:00.001-04:00

Growing up as a single child has its challenges. Life is after all a mixed bag. Growing up I did miss having a sibling. That to an extent was offset by my wonderful extended family - my cousins. Living in a boarding school with a band-of-brothers to get into trouble with. After all that is what one needs in a sibling growing up.

Things have changed. After loosing my mother, I miss having a sibling. It would have been easier to share the loss. But more importantly it would be nice to share the wonderful memories.

Training Wheels and Life

2008-08-11T19:00:00.002-04:00

I was over 5 years old when I started to learn how to ride a bike. I must have spent 3-4 days with little progress. Late in the evening on the forth day my mother stopped by to see me ride. No luck.

She held the bike and asked me to pedal. I did. She let go. I stopped pedalling and gravity took over. We went through this routine couple of times. Same result. Bruised - both physically and ego-wise (after all she had let go) I stood up and refused to ride.

My mother looked me in the eye and calmly told me that I would not be allowed back in to the house if I did not learn how to ride on my own. Simple. With that she turned and walked back.

The sun had set. I was alone. I tried. It must have taken me over an hour to master the rudimentary skills. Pedal. Stop. Pedal. Stop. Straight line pedalling, nothing fancy. Bruised and with a smile, I walked back indoor and announced my success. She smiled and we walked out into the evening. I pedalled. I managed to not fall. She patted me on the head and we both walked back indoor.

There is lot in common between life, parents and training wheels. All along I had my parents as my training wheels - my safety net - in my life. Things have changed over the last 2-3 weeks. From riding with only 1 training wheel, I am now down to none. There will be no more unseen hands holding me up and tending to the various bruises. I would like to think that perhaps I am ready. Only time will tell.

Thank You.

2008-07-27T00:30:00.000-04:00

It is difficult to prevent life
From making us bitter.

The loss of someone we love
More so when it is one who loved us
Helped us with our first steps, our mother.

To give and not have any expectations
of thanks, a nod, a smile.
To hold life and the ones dear,
dearer than the gold given away.

It takes great strength
not to have life define us.
It takes great strength to live
to love, to give
and to be at peace.

It is not often that we say
but I think it is important that we do
for times likes these cross
far apart and few.

It is important that
we remember to thank them
for both me and you.

Agni (Hindi: Fire)

2008-07-25T23:25:00.000-04:00

As I lay down
Looking up at the setting sky
a million stars smiling down
sound of river tapping (lapping) the banks

I hear the rustling on the sand.
There you were standing next to me
tears in your eyes.
You looked just like your were
when I first held you in my arms.

I turned away to see the brilliant sky
as the flames shot up around me
taking me and greeting the sky.

At that instance – Mukh-Agni
Everything fleeted before my eyes
As I saw my mother reaching out
I turned to see your face
And we both smiled.

Amar Ma (Bengali: My Mother)

2008-07-25T19:00:00.001-04:00

Experience gives a perspective to life and to relationships. Growing up as an only child, I had only one perspective - of being a son. I would like to think that my parents had it easy. I am sure each generation thinks fondly that it was easy for their parents and quite different in the current time. I am sure this line of thinking gets played out with every generation.

Growing up, it was very difficult to relate to my parent's perspective of being parents or even parenting. That all changed very gradually with my first born. A perspective was developed. This got further strengthened with my second born.

Parenting is tough. My parents had it tough. As parents, we all do. It is par for the course.

No matter how much I think I was an easy kid (now who am I kidding), my Ma (Mother) always put up with me. Put me first.

Over the last 3 months, my Ma's health deteriorated. My family and I had the opportunity of spending this summer with her. I spent time with her, talked to her, related to her as a son and as a parent. She spent a lot of time talking about her childhood. Inspite of all the challenges growing up through Partition, of leaving Bangladesh and starting a new life in West Bengal, she had a happy and loving childhood. She was happy.

Tough as it was for me, in not so many words, I thanked her for being my Ma. I told her that in the circle of life, if it was true, I would like for her to be my mother next time round - if she would take me up on that offer. She smiled.

I would like to think that today, Friday July 25 she started the day with her morning tea. In my mind, after finishing her tea, she got out of bed. Bare feet she shuffled to the door, threw it open and ran into the street of her childhood. I could hear her shout "Ma, Baba, wait". Up ahead, in the morning light stood her parents, her two elder sisters and her elder brother. They smiled, embraced. "Cholo bari jai" (Bengali: Let us go home).

Creating a Moment ... a Memory

2008-01-07T19:00:00.000-05:00

I was thinking about
What I had done
Accomplished, achieved.

When you jumped up
With your bottle
Strumming my hair
Cheek to cheek.
A forgettable music
In the background.
We danced.
In time and through time
Into an unforgettable memory.

Dear Daughter

2006-12-16T19:00:00.000-05:00

Dear Daughter,
Like many moments
That pass unnoticed
Another almost passed by
And stopped.

I was thinking about you
I missed you
I swallowed
A tear marked the moment
The moment I missed you.

No one knows
Neither do you
But I have this feeling
Some day you will
When a moment almost passes by
And stops.

And you then understand
Like I did
And also think of your father
Just like I did.

Your Age Today ... Here ... Always

2006-04-27T19:00:00.000-04:00

Today I had the most beautiful conversation
with my daughter, your grand daughter.
She asked me how old you were.
What should I say to a 4-year old?
How do I explain life?
What do I say?

I paused.
I thought.

And then I told the truth.
I told her your age
"My father is 76 years old".
She smiled.
"So you are younger than your dad."
Numbers are important to her.
They stand sentinel to life
and to life’s milestones.

For anybody else it would have been a lie.
But for us - you, your grand daughter and me -
you are always here.

Life is relative: Age, weight and counting. Except perhaps sunscreen

2005-11-06T19:00:00.002-05:00

Age is so relative. Kids want to grow up quickly. To be unshackled by all the rules imposed by parents / elders. I always want to yell - "what is the hurry. Enjoy this time. You are never going to get it back". Little do they realize that typically they trade from one set of shackles to another as they move through life. The fortunate ones break free. Being an adult is not all that is made up to be.

Apart from age, weight is also relative. The older one gets, both age and weight are very touchy, or should I say, "weighty" topics. The other day me and my friends were recollecting our youthful days. At each point in time we tend to criticize our weight and reflect nostalgic on when we were younger and weighed less. The reality is that years from now, my weight at this point in time (Nov 2005!) will seem, well quite less! Yes, life is relative.

"Sunscreen" sums it up very well. You can google on it - Baz Luhrmann - Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen) . (Thank you, Baz)

A number is a number, but then what is the unit?

2005-10-25T19:00:00.000-04:00

In business, we are constantly dealing with numbers. The old adage - "what you cannot measure cannot be managed" is a constant mantra. There is this constant clamor for metrics, measurements, numbers - you name it. In this rush to numbers, the purpose and objective of that number is often forgotten. The common perception is that "we have lot of numbers to measure ... we most be OK".

Outside of measuring, numbers are often used to drive home a message. Either to justify a course of action, to draw attention, or to demand change. It has been almost a fortnight since the number of the brave who lost their lives hit 2000. A great deal of activity, especially in the media was caused by this number - on both sides of the debate.

A number is a number. It cannot exist alone by itself. It needs a defining attribute, "a unit": 9.15 seconds, 100 meters. In this case 2000 "brave, dead". But then, numbers never tell the real story. In this process of defining an event, these cold numbers become more so. Cold. They fail to communicate the reality: it is not a number but the life of a loved one.

We should not pause to reflect when we are faced with 2000. We should pause and reflect for 1. For those not directly affected by the loss of *a* loved one, it is very difficult to comprehend. And for those who like numbers, it is important to remember that the unit behind this number is "loss".

Getting Started (Finally): I am blogging, therefore I exist?

2005-10-01T18:01:00.001-04:00

Well technology and trends are finally catching up with me. I am sure I can add a lot of things that are also catching up ... girth and wisdom (hopefully) including. So I blog. Perhaps this is the first step towards meeting mid-life crisis head on. Or perhaps I should just go back to Plan A - a convertible and a diamond ear stud. Or perhaps ... well that brings me back a full circle.

I am blogging therefore I exist ... or so I think.

I Will Watch Over You Forever

2004-10-12T19:00:00.000-04:00

As you look back to see …

Yes I am here holding you.
I will be here looking after you
when this moment passes
into a distant memory.
You will not know that it existed,
but one that I will watch, over you,
forever.

My List

2004-09-09T19:00:00.000-04:00

When I go on my final journey
I would like for you to give me
a copy of my father’s passport
of all the places he visited
and for those he did not.
Your photograph when you were a baby.
A long discarded rag doll
that has memories for me
and smells of you.

Princess' Kiss

2004-08-08T19:00:00.000-04:00

The other day I saw
A boy kiss a girl.
Wonderful dreams … a new beginning.
My mind turned to you my little one.
So small, so precious, so full of life and possibilities.
Someday you will also fall in love.
To be kissed like a princess that you are.
Though the moment will happen
many years from now
my eyes cloud.
It is so difficult to think.
Letting go of my little precious one
is the toughest thing to do.
You are my precious.
And for you,
I have to be strong and ready.

Missing the Rainbow

2004-07-04T19:00:00.000-04:00

It still amazes me.
I am a father.
How time flies.
I see your photograph - a baby
and I wonder -
what sort of father am I?
Perhaps I should pay more attention
to the fleeting moments that pass by.
Scold less and smile more

You tug at my sleeves.
I look down.
You are pointing.
Yes, it has rained.

My mind drifts back to life,
problems that define life
not realizing that the moment passed
the rainbow disappeared,
lost for ever.

Not Just

2002-07-03T19:00:00.000-04:00

It is difficult to explain -
why I love you.

It is not just because
I love you and try to do so unconditionally.

It is not just because
I love you as your father.

It is not just because
I love you as your friend.

You may not understand now.
I hope someday however you will,
when you look up.

For me, loving you
is simply what I do.
For that is what one does
to the answer to ones prayers.

A Selfish Call to Return

2002-04-19T19:00:00.000-04:00

It is good that one does not return
But then I am selfish

And would like for you
to return the next time around
as my father.
Perhaps then I can say
all things unsaid.

Do You Know?

2002-04-18T19:00:00.000-04:00

I would like to think
that you know.
Despite all the words unsaid.
Despite the harsh words said.
As my mind calls out
I hope you can hear me
Thank you for everything
With all my love, your son.

For My Father

2002-04-17T19:00:00.001-04:00

As you slept eternal
their remained
only one connection with this world –
in the corner of your eye
a tear lying unshed
Perhaps of a thought unsaid.
Perhaps of the many dreams.
You loved life.

I hope you can see
as I reach out across time
to wipe that tear;
to erase away all pain, all sorrow.
Sleep in peace and wake up free
never to return but to remain,
for you are now surrounded
by all those you missed and loved.

A Good Son

2002-04-17T19:00:00.000-04:00

There are so many conversations
that are important to have;
good to have.
But life grabs you by your collar
stealing the moments
leaving you wondering.

There are so many …

It is sad and often hurts
that I do not know
what you thought of me.
Did I stand by you
at your time of need?
Was I a good son,
as good as humanly possible?
With warts and blemishes
covered by your understanding
covered by your love.
To be forever your son.
Hopefully, a good son.