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Children definitely from heaven

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Watched a remarkable movie on the weekend. The kind that lingers with you long after the final credits have rolled. It didn't even have any special effects or mind blowing action sequences. But it did hit home. Children of heaven is the story of two young Iranian children who's world revolves around the simple persuits of life. Nine-year-old Ali and his younger sister Zahra realise that their parents are struggling to survive. Their simple world is devoid of cell phones, Ipods and even coloured television. In his attempt to help his mother with the groceries, Ali manages to misplace Zahra's shoes, her only pair to wear to school. Ali tries in vain to find the missing shoes but is left with the only option of offering his own sneakers to his sister. Though the shoes are too big for Zahra, she too has no other choice but to wear them. The siblings don't just share the shoes every day, they also share the anxiety of each other as Zahra rushes to get home in time to offer h...

10 rules for writing

Inspired by Elmore Leonard's 10 rules for writing, The Gaurdian came up with 10 points shared by various authors. I'm sharing my favourite, Ms. Atwood's. Margaret Atwood's rules for writing fiction 1 Take a pencil to write with on aeroplanes. Pens leak. But if the pencil breaks, you can't sharpen it on the plane, because you can't take knives with you. Therefore: take two pencils. 2 If both pencils break, you can do a rough sharpening job with a nail file of the metal or glass type. 3 Take something to write on. Paper is good. In a pinch, pieces of wood or your arm will do. 4 If you're using a computer, always safeguard new text with a ­memory stick. 5 Do back exercises. Pain is distracting. 6 Hold the reader's attention. (This is likely to work better if you can hold your own.) But you don't know who the reader is, so it's like shooting fish with a slingshot in the dark. What ­fascinates A will bore the pants off B. 7 You most likely need a the...

What happened to my city?

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Yes Bombay is my city. Mine. I may technically not be Maharashtrian by birth or ration card, but yes Bombay is also mine. At least I made it mine when I was growing up in it. It shaped my thoughts and perceptions and allowed me to breathe. It is home and its even mentioned on my passport, so geographically and emotionally it is mine. I never felt more attached to Bombay than when bomb blasts rocked the city during my tenth grade exams. The feeling heightened when riots ravaged the city like no one ever imagined they could. Many years later the same feeling came rushing back when terrorists hijacked the city and innocent every day people were held at ransom. I may have left the city, but it never left me. I guess when I left, I lost all authority of caring for the city. I'd like to think that's not true. Bombay used to wake up to a multitude of voices that sang in harmony. Now anyone who stands up to bullies is almost certainly facing a lone battle. Has the city lost its voice? ...

What shall we do without Ms. O?

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Most men love to hate her. Many women worship her and some don't know how they will survive without her 60 minutes of daily wit and wisdom. Bring out the tissue boxes because Ms. Oprah Winfrey is kinda calling it quits. I say 'kinda' in no light manner. The woman comfortably perched on the top of the Forbes fortune list is not leaving the ring without a firm plan in place. She plans to launch her own cable channel and we can all be sure that it will be as much of a success as her book clubs, her angel network, her African school and other many endevours. So perhaps its not yet the end of the line but a chance for a new beginning. But who is this woman and why does she manage to touch our lives? Is it her constant battle with weight and image that somehow keeps people glued to their cable sets, day after day? Is it the fact that she routinely dishes out money and expensive presents on live TV just because she simply loves a surprise? Perhaps it is all of the above. For the p...

Our dearest Jijaji

The following tribute is for my dear brother in law, who will forever be missed but always encouraged me to read and led so much by example. He can never be replaced but his memory will live on forever. In his wonderful boys who resemble him in more ways than one. In his doting and loving wife, Simona, who never left his side, more than any of us thought was humanly possible, during his challenging illness. In all of us, who have met him and have been touched by his practicality, fondness for family and love for nature and sport. As the Fernandes family comes to terms with the irreplaceable loss of the eldest brother-in-law, Vinod, there is comfort in knowing that he is in a better place. We could not have done half of the many, many, many formalities in Kuwait after Vinod’s passing had it not been for the prayers, calm and clear thinking and most of all blessings of Vinny himself. All of Simona's contacts and friends, most of whom she was too preoccupied to reach over the past few...

Socially irrelevant

Who makes up your network? I’m not asking about the 892 friends who might make up your friend list, few of whom, may barely keep in touch on a regular basis. If you are like me, I’m sure a great part of your day is spent on Facebook and many like minded sites, but I’m not talking about that kind of network. I’m talking about your people. The ones you rely on, when life seems like its hanging by a thread. Who are those chosen few you call in a crisis, on bad hair days, when stuck in a really bad mess? When you just need someone to listen to you crib without prejudice. Chances are most people will readily say that their family, spouse and significant others are the ones that anchor them to shore when a little lost at sea. While that may be the general norm, lately I’m wondering if we are really spending too much time on social networking (SN) when we aren’t really being social at all. What happened to hand-written letters? Are they only for Mommy because she doesn’t have the time to set ...

Thinking objectively and other unrealities

After a rather horrific week of high fevers and hospital visits, I wonder if thinking objectively is ever a possibilty. How does one try to be objective when a doctor says, 'We really have done all we can and you need to decide what to do.' Thanks but I'm not the one with the medical degree. Do you suddenly scamper for your thinking cap, when your heart is already in your mouth? Or how about being objective when you are writing a book that is closer to home than close can ever be. Do you say all the horrible things that are true, or do you carefully white wash realities that are better left unsaid? Does that make you less of a truthful writer, person, family member? Or does it just mean that you are as diplomatic as a Nobel Peace Prize winner who really doesn't think he deserves the prize, but accepts it anyway? Objectivity...easier said than done.