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Showing posts from September, 2011

9/11 Remembering My Mother

On this day – September 11 in 2001 – the sun set on crushed buildings in New York. Thousands of lives were lost as the twin towers fell and the ‘Pentagon was gashed open’. For a lot of people, lives were changed forever. Five years later, on this same day, my life too changed forever.

As I watch the coverage of news on television and read reports in the newspapers on the anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, I find that for the relatives of those who lost their near and dear ones, the memories remain fresh and overwhelming. There is lots and lots of sadness still. I am not one of them, but then I become one of them because we are bound by loss on 9/11 . Only the years are different. 
It is such a gift to have a mother and getting that absolute, unconditional love. I sometimes wish I could pick up the phone and talk to her, share with her everything beginning from things monotonous. She would listen to everything, laugh, worry, care. It is impossible to reconcile to the idea of her being dead…

Women Winge

A close friend wanted to go to a striptease club this weekend. I love my girlfriend but I declined as I have no fascination for watching almost nude men pole dancing or showing their antics trying to drive up hormones. Imagine the visual. Nothing exciting to watch a few men in their trunks go cheesy. I would rather look at women, and give myself room for scrutiny.

At a restaurant one evening, the man and I were having dinner but we could not help smiling at the continuous laughter from a group of women sitting next to us. Later I told the man, I am hard pressed to find any dull woman. The more outrageous the laughs, the more I find myself loving the cackles.
But I am also at the point where I have come to the conclusion that where there is a group of women there is bound to be coteries, more a Facebook experience of late. Outcome of social routine disappearing! There is so much adulation, agreeing and applauding, which I see as complete fake.  Not trying to say I am none of this but try…

My Date With Deepak Chopra

The hall was packed with 600 wannabe writers. As the name Deepak Chopra was announced, there was a thunderous applause. As an Indian sitting in the Melbourne Conventional hall, I was secretly thrilled that someone from the sub continent had managed to make the audience, mainly women, break out into such an excitement.

Of course, Deepak Chopra is not your quintessential Indian writer in English. He does not satirise Indian customs J He is a doctor who has written vastly on Ayurveda, spirituality and mind-body medicine, he lives in the United States and his books are best sellers. Naturally, fans would throng where he steps.
I had come to attend the Melbourne Writers’ Workshop to hear best-selling authors Deepak Chopra, Doreen Virtue, Rachael Birmingham and Louise L Hay speak. While I am not a great fan of self-help books and people who write on how to become better or how to find the right path in life and such like, I thought I would learn something by meeting in person people who have …