Moving On...

Time is like a river and in the flow of this watercourse, you meet people on the wy, floating in the sae direction as you. Some may get caught on a snagging bush, others may take a different branch of the river, but all in all, there are many people you encounter, i this journey of life. And sometimes you may know them for a long time, sometimes for very little, but always, people, everyday, on this journey known as life make an impact on you.

It is hard saying goodbye. People come and go and life goes on. But wherever you go, good luck, you deserve it!

In the news...

It has been a while, but here it goes, this week's news highlights. First, an anniversary and a sad one at that, one year since the Mumbai attacks. Called by many as India's 9/11 moment, it was only one of many such atrocities committed in India that year, but it happened to be outside Kashmir/Chhattisgarh and so was played out in front of the world's media. Many blamed the Indian government for the handling of the crisis, but the saddest thing was to see such a great city brought to its knees. The Mumbaites are stronger after the attack, but like the dwellers of any big city around the world, terrorism is a facet of life that they have learned to live with.

Second, Dubai is bankrupt! Hooray! Unlike Mumbai or India, the Gulf States of the Middle East are my least favourite places in the world. For all the wealth they had, they could have given the world so much. Instead, the leaders of those countries have given their populace fat benefits to sit on their backside, while those same leaders have spent their money on prostitutes of the Edgeware Road, Champagne on the Champs Elysees and Fifth Avenue shopping all the while importing an army of slaves for their own pleasure. Oh, and they have ski slopes. Wow. All that cash and you have managed to build a range of shopping malls. You make Thatcher look like a wise spender of the North Sea oil wealth...

Third, a light hearted one to end the blog post. Oysterisation or whatever you want to call it. Basically South London can now join the Oystercard party. However, this being London, it is not a straight forward touch in and touch out. Oh the joys of the Oyster Extension Permit...

Toodles!

London Diary (5)

As the tube train rumbled into the platform he stood up.

While waiting for the trains, he liked squatting down. Often it gave his legs a rest from the many miles that he did, pounding the unforgiving streets of the city. His trainers were worn out, after all, they were a cheap pair that he bought in some discount shoe shop a while back. Still, they came in handy for running, when the need arose, which was unfortunately for him, becoming a more frequent occurrence. The vantage point from a squatting gave him an unusual view of the tiling that adorned the tube station and he also got to see up the nostrils of his fellow passengers, also waiting on the platform.

The doors hissed open and there was that usual embarrassed semi-scrum that always accompanied the ritual of embarkation onto and disembarkation off a tube carriage. It was the proper thing to let passengers off first, but there was always that worry that the driver might be in a temper and shut the doors on you, so leaving you behind on the platform, stranded underneath the streets of London. Of course, this had never happened to any of the passengers on the platform. But the mere fear of having to wait three minutes until the next train was too much to bear and so as the last of the passengers were trying to alight, the crowd surged on. He joined them too, riding the wave, almost euprhoric, of getting one step closer to a destination.

And what was that destination? The doors gave their warning before slamming shut and
as the train slowly rumbled out of the platform, he began to think of where he was going. Life had not turned out all happy go-lucky. Those rosy-tinted days of looking forward to a future had given way to something more realistic - 'life'. For all the optimism that he should have felt, he in fact felt very lonely, despite the fact that his carriage was as crowded as ever. Standing, crushed against the plastic-enamel interior of the carriage, he may have shared the same thoughts, hopes, dreams and fears as his fellow passengers, as well as the same final destination, both literal and metaphorical. But of course, this is London, and while the whole train may have felt the same, for him, it felt that he was the only one that was experiencing it so vividly, with his heart racing away, as drip by drip, one second at a time, life itself slipped from his grasp.

The doors opened and he got off. He rushed towards the escalators, but for once, decided not to climb up and instead held onto the handrail and watched a few others overtake him on the left. The breeze from above ground hit him in the face, his nostrils picking up the scent of fried chicken and exhaust fumes wafting down the shaft from the street above. On reaching the concourse, he tappped his oyster and headed outside. It was a chilly night, and as he felt the sharp whip of the wind, he drew his collar close towards him. He still had a long way to go until he reached his 'destination'...

Bread

Not the stuff in our wallets but the grain based substance that is available in virtually every society on Earth. Whether made from maize, rice, teff or rye, it is a common element of humanity to eat bread.

In the UK, most of our bread is made from wheat. We can get it in the supermarket or down the corner shop in polythene packets or we can head to the high street chain baker where they stock their baked goods fresh from the industrial estate. Occasionally however, there are still some bakeries that actually bake their own bread, within their premises. Early morning, as I am (often) coming home, these bakeries are open. The friend of all night shift workers, they are open at hours to suit us and so we can always pop in for a cup of tea and a bun and on the way home, get some bread.

Of course, by the time I actually have some of this bread for 'my' breakfast, you would have already finished your lunch...

should've

Probably the easiest phrase to say to someone in the English language but one of the hardest to listen to. After all, you cannot change the past, but learn from the choices made and continue living with it and improving yourself. That is the problem with fourth dimensional movement - it is only in one direction - forwards. Our existence means that we cannot simply go back and press the reset button, or nudge ourselves earlier on in the course of our lives to take a different path. What we have done is done and one of the certainties in life is that we will always lament the decisions we have made in the past.

Of course, it does not make it any easier to listen to the incessant wailing and whining of those who are supposedly near and dear to you, telling you that you should have done this and that when you were younger. True, but I also see that their own lives are not as rosy. They will also protest the loudest when it comes to highlighting the merest deficiencies in their own existences, usually referring to the weakness of their 'spirits' or some other mumbo-jumbo to throw you off course.

But I do look back and think maybe I should've done it in this way or that. Call it the human condition, but I can't help but look back and think, sometimes with a lot of regret about the amount of time I have wasted in my life. But this path is myriad in its ways and tugging away at the edges could unravel the tapestry of my life. However there is very little to sing and dance at this moment in time...

Upgrade? Hell no!

I have two computers. A five year old laptop, still going strong with the original operating system installed on it. It is pretty bare in terms of ad ons and other apps on it, but it is functional. It works as a writing implement and as a way to show vids (via the HD or the DVD drive) on the go. I also have a newer, flashier desktop, just over a year old, with all the original bits, plus lots of funky ad ons. It really is a souped up machine.

Anyhow, switched on my laptop this morning to do my blog and when logging into gimpspace, (that link will soon no longer work) I got this message:



All good things come to an end. My computer is no longer cool enough to hang out with the hip young things and Tom. So sod it, I can no longer be bothered with myspace. It looks like another 'bye-bye' alongside my facebook exit. But unlike the facebook drop out, this has been forced upon me by myspace itself. I was quite happy to keep the account ticking over and to copy and paste my blog onto my profile but as I have no urgent need to upgrade my laptop, then my hand is forced and I must say toodles to 'Tom & Co'.

Interestingly, 'myspace' gave me my first outlet online. Long before I actually 'made' my own websites, or even got blogging seriously, my outlet to the wider world was via myspace. It is with a slight twinge that I am deleting this account, but with regards to the bigger picture, who really cares? My laptop has outlived my gimpspace account. Let us see what else it outlives...

Harry Brown

One of the best British films in recent years (view the trailer here), this is one flick that you must sere. Very rarely do I recommend something on these pages, but go on, treat yourself and watch 'Harry Brown'. Great story, set in London and no money shots of Big Ben or the Southbank. It is a 100% movie with great direction, great acting and great production values, but sod all that, the story is riveting and will make you think long and hard afterwards. Plus it is great entertainment - what more do you want from a film?

Traveling somewhere?

I am of fleeting interest to this world. In about 45 years, if I go by the average lifespan of the British man, I will be dead. About ten years before that, my body would have lost all usefulness. So the pressing question is not 'who am I?' but rather, 'where shall I go next?'

I enjoy travel. It has bugged me that a major European airline has decided to cancel my flight, but with the cash refunded, I am feeling lucky. So where do I go next? Domestic or international? Back to India is certainly a possibility, but how about somewhere more exotic. The suicidal in me is plumping for Columbia, but I really want to see the mystique of West Africa before I pop off. Then there are relatives to see in far flung places, but it has been a while since I have set my eyes on a desert, forcing me back into the West African mindset.

Questions, yet to be answered, but all in good time. Let me have a cup of tea and mull over my options and my bank balance...

The Black Hole of Europe

(Date: 26th December, 2009)

Our top headline today, Switzerland is no more. The Large Hadron Collider has actually worked.

It produced a black hole and swallowed up the tiny mountain state in Western Europe, cuckoo clocks and all. At the time all the investment bankers, lawyers and tax dodgers of the western world were holidaying in their chalets in the country formerly known as Switzerland. They all got sucked up and vanished too.

Spontaneous celebrations are occurring in cities around the world as ordinary people take to the streets in order to mark the passing of the most reviled people on Earth.

The scientists behind the project are being hailed as heroes as they singlehandedly have wiped out centuries of nepotism and injustice in the flick of a switch. A spokesman for the group of doctors and professors behind the LHC told this blog:

'I love it when a plan comes together'.

London Diary (4)

It was night time, and the river lapped against the embankment. Two lovers kissed as the Autumnal air swept past them from up the estuary. Not that they noticed, enticed as they were by the rapture in which they held each other. Millions of couples have done this before, under Waterloo Bridge, dancing the dance of the twosome. But of course, for them, like every couple before them and for every couple afterwards, this was their moment, this was unique to them. It was a clear night, despite the wind, as their lips locked.

And then they stopped. They took a look at each other. Despite the passion, despite the intensity, they could see into each other's souls This moment, was as empty as it could get. Just another moment by the Thames, but in each other's hearts, they knew that this would be a fleeting moment in each other's lives.

But the kissing continued. Who cared if this was a fleeting moment. It was 'their' moment together...