.. Ahead of the Beat

It’s good to stay ahead in the game, a step ahead of the competition, but it’s never too good, or right, to stay ahead of the beat. Boy did I learn this the hard way, as if I wasn’t already aware about it.

As I stood there awaiting my turn, I could feel the butterflies fluttering around vigorously in the pits of my stomach. Each moment making me more nervous as I patiently awaited my turn, as one after the other, students went in to perform their sequence in the chosen style. 

I had practiced all I could, learned the sequence, and was now raring to go, but I had to wait, wait till it was my turn. And as I waited I could feel those nerves work themselves up. If I practised anymore l would be one mass of sweat, knowing the way I do, I would end up having a Mandakini moment.

During the coffee break we posed for pics, clicked group pics, dance poses and goofy poses. This helped take off the edge, lightening up the moment, at least for a while. But once done the nerves were back with a bang.

And when the moment finally arrived, I made a quick sign of the cross (as I always do), took a deep breath, reminded myself that I got this, and took Minelle’s hand (who was partnering all the guys). Bowing towards the examiner, Mr Hunt, who asked me which style I would be dancing. After stating that I would be doing the cha cha and the salsa, I got into partner hold, awaiting Conrad to play the music so I knew which style to dance on.

I breathed a sigh relief when it turned out to be the cha cha, on a song I was familiar with. So I got into the cha cha hold and started on 2, trying my best to maintain my frame while trying to look poised and confident. But then I let my nerves get the better of me and I could feel myself floundering a bit. I looked at Minelle who was looking at me, counting for me, trying to keep me on beat. And when Conrad asked to restart again, I could feel my heart sink like a rock, fast and quick, to the pits of my stomach. What I feared was happening.

I regrouped  myself and got ready for a second time, willing myself to get it right this time around. Alas once again the nerves got the better of me and I found myself a step ahead of the beat, stumbling. I tried to look towards Minelle like a helpless, lost puppy, who was once again counting and trying to get me on beat, trying her best to ensure I gave it my best. But somehow my brain seemed to have frozen over and and legs didn’t move the way it should. There was no coordination between my head and my limbs. I hesitated and had couple, ok, quite bit of missteps, pausing a sec to regroup myself, hoping that this ordeal would be over soon.

I breathed a sigh relief when Conrad paused the music. One part done now on to the next one which was bit more tricky as I knew Salsa wasn’t my forte. But to my surprise, the it went smoother than the cha cha. Well not as smooth, still rough around the edges, a bit hesitant, some missteps. But on the whole a bit better, if definitely not perfect. 

I finally looked towards the examiner, Mr Hunt, bowed, who returned the bow with a warm smile, making me  wonder if it’s just a formality wala smile, or a consolatory one, or was it a genuine one? Well what else did you expect from an overthinking, bumbling fool.

As I exited the room, there was this feeling of disappointment, knowing that I could do better, knowing that I hadn’t given it my best. I thanked Minelle, picked my bag, wished the rest the very best and left in a hurry. Didn’t want to stay back any longer lest I feel all the more lousy with my performance. I left feeling a bit low, dejected and disappointed with myself, cause there was no one but myself and my nerve to blame.

That evening as I chatted with my friends, who helped me realise that I was being too hard on myself (something I was and am painfully aware about). We are all novices, not professionals, and so we are bound to make mistakes, especially when it’s the first time we are giving such an examination, brave enough to take up this challenge. But the important thing is to stay calm, and let not those mistakes bring you down. Learn from it and move on. Take everything in your stride, as an experience and learn from it. You are brave enough to undertake. So what if you were a step ahead of the beat, you’ll learn and find a way to stay on the beat.

A Trip Down Memory Lane

As I sat there watching all the communicants march into church, all

dressed in pristine white (and some in off white), all dressed to the ‘T’, ready to receive Jesus for the very first time, I couldn’t help myself but take a walk down memory lane, over couple of decades back to my own First Holy Communion.

I remember that I was the only child not in white, not even in off white. In fact I was wearing a three piece suit that was grey and blue. I guess my aunt knew the kind of child I was and couldn’t trust me with keeping the suit white. In which case any other colour would be safe bet.

So there I was, standing out in a sea of white, definitely not a sore thumb, but a handsome young man (as I would myself to believe), marching into church as the choir sang “Lead your children Jesus to the altar”. Being a child with a speech impediment (and yet do have it) I wasn’t given any part in the reading, or the eucharistic celebration, a bit stab of disappointment for any child who would love to read, who would love to participate. But then that’s life, you make do what you’re given with.

When it came time to receive communion I remember forgetting to join with my hands at my side as my mum looked on (dada wasn’t there). After mass it was time to click pics at the altar and the grotto with mum, godma, and not to forget my class teacher, who’s daughter was receiving communion with me, so yipee she wouldn’t be there in class (as I had bunked school that day) and I wouldn’t be missing much in terms of lessons.

In the evening we had a small party with my neighbours and close family friends. I remember my best friend Ryan joining me to cut my cake. I distinctly remember trying to cut that cake, struggling to do the deed, thanks to the hard icing. But all said and done, though I had a quiet party, I had a good and memorable time.

And as I reminisced on the past, the memories made, the present beckoned me. So I had to come back to the present and stop dreaming of the past and of time gone. The past is a beautiful memory that will remain with me forever, no one can take that away from me. But now it was time to come to the present and join the celebration of the children. I had this smile on face thanks to the memories I had.

It’s Beginning to look like Christmas

It’s already December 

And it could mean one thing

Winter should be here

But then it’s nowhere in sight 

And in its stead we have some rain

But no snow, as if it would

In a warm and muggy mumbai 

Hey that ain’t the purpose 

Of these nonsensical 

Whimsical verses

So let’s begin once again

Form the very beginning 

And here we go again

It’s already December 

And no matter the weather

It can only mean one thing

It’s time to bring on the Christmas cheer

To put up the mistletoe and holly

Cause everyone’s so jolly

Hang up that stocking 

Cause Santa Claus is coming to town

It’s time to play those carols

And if there’s no carols on the spin it

We can always sing it

Whether we are B flat or G sharp

We can always go carolling

And ring in that Christmas cheer

Cause we all need a reason to be jolly 

We all need a little Christmas 

It’s time we put up that tree

Trim the tree, decorate it

Add that partridge to the fir tree

If you don’t have a pear one

Put that star on the highest bough

And let an angel be up there with it

Heralding the festive season

Outside, there may not be snow

Or even some sign of cold

But the people, with their spirits high 

Trying hard not to miss a beat

As they shop in their street

Running with the treasures 

They have managed to plundered

Ok not plundered but acquired

Or for that matter gathered

For themselves 

For the ones who they care

As the street light blink 

Bright red and green

Cause soon it will be Christmas Day 

The shops are all festive

All ready for Christmas 

Trying to draw passerby 

With their wears 

And what they have displayed

With the mistletoe and holly

And Christmas tree all merry

All ready for all to see it

Filled with shoppers 

Wanting to buy their wear

But in the mix of all this milieu 

Don forget the reason for the season

The message of love and hope he brings

Put Christ right back in Christmas

Let him be the centre of your rejoicing

So while you put up the Christmas trees

And the mistletoe and holly

You decorate the house 

And buy your present

Don’t forget the Christ child

Born those million years ago

In a small little stable

So we need a little Christmas 

Right this very moment

And it’s beginning just like that

So Christmas please don’t be late!!!

Riding Shotgun

Stepping out of the office premise I look around for a shared rickshaw, when I hear a voice go “metro... metro station... metro”. I instinctively look in the direction the sound seemed to be coming from. I ask him “Metro Station”, a stupid redundant question. He asks me if I am ok sitting in front. Not wanting to wait, I said i was ok riding shotgun, and so got into the rick.

I sit keeping my bag near my feet and holding on to either end of the vehicle. And as we go it’s almost like I am wrapping my arms around him in a semi-hug. Was I sharing an intimate moment with him? My head screamed nooooooo! I could almost smell his sweat, his body odour, which definitely far from sweet, testing how long could I hold on to my breath before giving up to inhale a wisp, or a nose full of his odour, a good training for those who would like to test their breathing skills, or wanted to unclog the clogged up nostrils.

While my hand held on tight, my butt cheeks complained about being discriminated against. While one sat comfortably on the seat, the other hung precociously for it derrière life (if I could use the term in this context). One in while the other out. Along with the poor derrière, the knees felt exposed, exposed to the chances of it getting knocked out of its sockets as he negotiated the triviality of the evening traffic like only he could. Weaving through traffic, like a formula one driver would navigate its competitors, making their way to the front. There was nothing holding him, not even jams. He sure did fancy himself worthy to the mantle of a certain Mr Schumacher (choosing to ignore a Hamilton).

So if there was a jam on one side, the opposite side is where he went. If the road no longer yielded itself, on the pavement he went. There was no holding him back. And as he went, twisting and turning, I clung on to what I could, holding on to my dear life while my poor derrière trying to hold on to whatever seat it could place itself on. Should hold on to the bar or should I hold on to him. Come on I was already sharing an almost intimate moment, but hey I didn’t.

If this was an amusement ride, I had the front row seat, a first hand experience of all that transpired. Should I keep my eyes open with wide eyed amazement (or was it fear), or should I shut it tight, not wanting to see what is to come, lest my poor heart would not be able to take all the excitement. Wondered should I hold on tight for dear life or should I put my hands up in the air and let out a whoop whoop, or a woohooo, the way you would on a roller coaster (after isn’t life one).

So when the ride finally ended, I gave thanks that I came out in one piece with no parts displaced or dislocated. I quickly paid my fair and off I went. Wondering if the Gods May just have blessed this guy for the many people he got to pray, the many atheists he may have converted, brought back home, a ghar wapasi, by just driving the way he did.

What Thanks do I give Thee?

What thanks do I give thee

For the life that has been given to me

For through the good and the bad

Through the happy and the sad

It’s life that has been given to me

Some days it may seem like a curse

While other days a blessing

Or just another ordinary day

But no matter the way I may see it

It’s the one given to me

To make the most of, to live

And for this I am thankful to thee!

What thanks do I give to thee

For making ME

A little crazy, a little looney

Broken and damaged and a bit defective 

An over thinker, constant worrier

But perfectly imperfect

Always wondering what others think

Or even see in a simple person like me

Just another ordinary, lonely soul

In fact a bit of a  bore

Nothing interesting, nothing special

But unique, one of a kind

Cause there ain’t no one else like me

And for that I thank thee!

What thanks do I give thee

For all the people who have come to me

Who have walked into my life

Changed my world, taught me to live

Taught me to love and gave love

Without who’s support

My life would never be the same

I wouldn’t have managed to remain sane

In this crazy world

An though they may go away

For whatever the reason may be 

They stay forever with me

Like a handprint on my heart

A picture etched on the walls of my  mind

Staying with me for all eternity 

For this I give thanks to thee!

What thanks do I give thee

For my friends and family

The ones who brought me into the world

The ones who sustained me

Taught me, nurtured me

Helped me survive and with it thrive

For lovers and partners

The ones I’ve loved and lost

The one who broke my heart

The ones who’s heart I’ve broken

The ones who got away

The ones who i’ll always love

Who brings a smile with every thought

Of the memories made

For the moments shared

For the ones who i care for

More than anything in life 

The ones who i get scared to loose

The ones who live with me forever

Long after they are gone

For this I give thanks to thee!

What thanks do we give to thee

For every opportunity, for every experience 

The good and the bad

The happy and sad

The ones that brought success and happiness

The ones that brought us to tears

That left us with a bitter taste

That left us broken and bruised

But no matter what the experience may be

Each moment, like a chisel

Little by little, chipping at me

To make a better me, a stronger me

Showing me strength and courage

That lay latent in me

That I never knew I had it in me

That I never believed I could be capable of

But for every moment, for every experience 

I give thanks to thee!

So in the end 

No matter the moment

No matter the experience

No matter how the world perceives MA

No matter who stays with me

Or where life takes me

Or the lemons it may throw at me

For this I give thanks to thee!

I am no Angel... but grateful for who I am

I am no angel

I am no saint

In fact I’m miles away from it

Don’t judge me by what you see

Or what you may perceive me to be

Cause if you peel away the layers you see

You’ll find the real me 

An ordinary soul

A simple but confused mind

Cause I am nothing special

In fact I am bit of a bore

I’m not perfect 

Just perfectly imperfect 

Of mistakes I’ve made my share

And of them I am not ashamed to say

Regretted the ones I’ve made

But I’ve learned to live with them

Learned to learn from them

Avoid having them on repeat

Underneath it all I’m just an ordinary man

There’s nothing special, a fool

In fact a bit damaged and bruised

A bit mental, a bit temperamental 

A lot crazy, cause Crazy is what crazy do

A child at heart not willing to grow up

But forced to grow 

And circumstance is to be blamed

But never truly giving up

A stubborn fool

I’ve loved and I’ve lost

But I hope to love again

I’ve been hurt and I’ve been in pain

And I’ve been the cause of both too

A lost and lonely soul

And though I may try and smile

But my smile may just a frown

I am just a simple man

Asking to be loved for who I am

I am only human like everyone else

And like everyone else 

I have my wants and desires

That which stem of the flesh

And though I may try to be coy and shy

But I know my wants and desires

Sometimes ashamed of it

Other times conflicted about it

But nonetheless wanting it, craving it

But then it’s love that I want

And it often a pit full for this overthinker

I am grateful for everyone in my life

The ones who have come and gone

And the ones who have stayed

For the ones who have left an impression 

A handprint, a picture etched 

On the walls of my mind for all eternity

The ones I cannot do without

The ones who I care for

The ones who I’ve love & will forever love

Family, friends, colleagues, lovers, partners, spouse and offsprings and pets

People who I will hold dear to me

Forever and always and beyond

Life may not be kind

Showing me an oasis 

Only for it to turn out a mirage

But then if life has thrown lemons

It’s also shown me how to make lemonade 

Or have a glass of tequila and toast life

For every sadness it shown me kindness

For every sorrows it has shown me

How to overcome

For every loss it has taught me to overcome

For every pain it has applied a cooling balm

It has helped me heal from every hurt

And though it may scar

It has showed me how to survive

So to conclude this random rambling 

This Rodmaness 

I am no angel

But I am grateful to be me!

The Baking Adventure (or Misadventure)

With Christmas just around the corner, this boy loves getting into the Christmas spirit, even if it wasn’t even Advent yet. So all caught up in the pre-festive spirit and bitten by the  do-it-yourself bug, this boy decided to try something new. After long hours of pondering and strainous thinking (ok ok not that much of pondering, maybe just a couple of minutes), baking cookies it was!

So the first order was to  decide if there was the most important equipment in place, an Oven. So the Internet was scoured and questions to friends and colleagues asked, and in the end an OTG was secured and delivered and demonstrated and the boy was was all raring to bake. 

The next step was finding an easy to follow recipe, cause this boy is no cook. But the boy was willing and eager to learn. So once again the Internet was searched and countless pages visited and YouTube videos viewed, till this boy came to a recipe he was confident and comfortable he could follow.

The enthusiasm was burning bright and the josh was high. It was time to put together the core ingredients. So the ingredients and other equipment’s were sourced. But not before a detour of his bike being towed (ok Activa) for being parked in the wrong spot. But not even this setback could throw a monkey wrench (or a monkey, or a spanner) in his enthusiasm. So trying to put aside the exertion of the morning (after all the weekend long run followed by a gym workout can be tiring), and sourcing the ingredients and trekking to the RTO to pay the fine, can take its toll, even on the best. But in the end it was time to bake.

Putting all the things in order (and in the process driving his mother nuts) he began to prepare his dough. The unsalted butter didn’t melt causing him to fret a little cause he couldn’t beat it with the sugar to a light fluff (as mentioned in the recipe). So in his haste he added the milk and vanilla essence and began to hope against hope that the required consistency would be reached.  So he furiously continued to beat it.

All this while he tried to keep his mum at bay, but now he needed her. He got her to put together the dry ingredients, giving her instructions on what he needed to be done (a head chef moment, though I am not sure if that applies to the boy). So once done it was time to prepare the dough. The wet mixture was added to the dry one, little by little. This mixture was stirred with a spatula and then by hand till it was made in dough. The boy got a bit panicky as it was no where close to what he had observed in the videos he had seen.

Now that the dough was ready it was time for it to rest, and with it it was time for him to rest too. So the dough was wrapped in cling wrap and placed in the fridge to rest. After letting it rest for an hour (or almost an hour) it was time to remove it from the fridge and preheat the oven.

Following the steps shown during the demo, the boy ser the temperature and timer for the oven, and proceeded to to roll out the cookie and cut the cookies out of it with a cookie cutter. As the dough was still soft and the boy wasn’t an expert at rolling anything, not even rolling his eyes, dough stuck to the rolling pin no matter how much flour he added. But somehow he tried his best to do his best and cut out the cookies, to varying degrees of success.

With the oven heated and the first batch ready to go, the tray was put in the oven. He stood there staring at cookies baking, wondering if they would get brown. His mum joined him in the staring competition with the oven, trying to get the whiff of the dough baking. 

As the buzz going off the first batch was ready. He removed it from the oven, with a sense of pride as this was the first thing he ever managed to bake. But then this feeling was short lived as the first batch slightly soft and crumbly. He tasted it, and though it tasted nice it had a bitter after taste.

Not to be disheartened by the first attempt, he went about preparing the second batch, and there lay the second mistake. Varying the time and temperature he hoped this batch would bake well. Alas this batch got a bit burnt.

With every batch he struggled a bit , with every batch he got more weary has it the cookies weren’t baking the way he wanted them to, the way they should. 

When the final batch was done he breathed a sigh of relief, as it was late and he tired and fatigued. He tried to figure out what he did wrong and worried if he would ever try baking again. But then he knew he could never give up and never give up. He would learn from his adventure and try avoiding the mistakes he had made. But he would bake again, he could now that he had an oven there was no backing down, giving up, whether it was an adventure or a misadventure.