Humour in Overtime

People I am regularly in touch with already know the kind of stress my project team at office is undergoing. Weekends have become a regular. So have festivals and some public holidays.

Such situations invariably give rise to some of the most humorous anecdotes. One post-it note that we found in the project team area when we arrived for work this morning read, “Is there life before death???” This was written by our Database Administrator at 1am on a Sunday morning during the Diwali weekend!

Thanks to such innovative entertainment, the extra hours become at most bearable!

Cheers!

Two choices | No games...only Sport

Hi All,
This is a forward that I received in a mail from a friend.Putting it up for all of you to read.
Here Goes...

Two Choices:

What would you do? You make the choice. Don't look for a punch line, there isn't one. Read it anyway. My question is: Would you have made the same choice?

At a fund-raising dinner for a school that serves learning-disabled children, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question: 'When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?'

The audience was stilled by the query.

The father continued. 'I believe that when a child like Shay, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.'

Then he told the following story:

Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, 'Do you think they'll let me play?' Shay's father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.

Shay's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, 'We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.'

Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. His Father watched with a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart. The boys saw the father's joy at his son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.

At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.

However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.

The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.

Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, 'Shay, run to first! Run to first!' Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.

Everyone yelled, 'Run to second, run to second!' Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball ... the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.

All were screaming, 'Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay'

Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, 'Run to third! Shay, run to third!'

As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shay, run home! Run home!' Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team.

'That day', said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, 'the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world'.

Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making his father so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!

AND NOW A LITTLE FOOTNOTE TO THIS STORY: We all send thousands of jokes through the e-mail without a second thought, but when it comes to sending messages about life choices, people hesitate. The crude, vulgar, and often obscene pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion about decency is too often suppressed in our schools and workplaces.

If you're thinking about forwarding this message, chances are that you're probably sorting out the people in your address book who aren't the 'appropriate' ones to receive this type of message. Well, the person who sent you this believes that we all can make a difference. We all have thousands of opportunities every single day to help realize the 'natural order of things.' So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice: Do we pass along a little spark of love and humanity or do we pass up those opportunities and leave the world a little bit colder in the process?

A wise man once said every society is judged by how it treats it's least fortunate amongst them.

You now have two choices:

1. Delete

2. Forward

Edgy...extremely edgy

Yawn… That’s the mood on a Monday morning. Most believe that there is a bit of Garfield in all of us…
I beg to differ…
I firmly believe that Garfield has a lot of me in him.

Jokes apart. Today was going to be the day I was to begin training for the event I look forward to every year, year after year, The Standard Chartered Mumbai Marathon.

The first thing to be done was to get my running shoes ready for the training. That’s done.
Getting running gear in place. That’s pretty much done too.
Now comes the toughest part. The start! This did not happen and hence the earlier metaphor.

Never before has any race appeared as much of an uphill task as this one. In fact, this is the first time that my mind is filled with a lot of apprehension.

Partly due to the mental hang over of the injury.
Partly due to the slight feeling that my knee will give way again.
Partly due to the feeling that incase of a niggle I may not be able to get myself to let go and drop out of a race knowing myself, and might eventually land up with another severe break-down, I feel scared this time. Really scared!
Never earlier has any competition been such a physical challenge as this one is.

As I write, my mind races back to the Delhi half marathon 2007. An ideal setting for a good race with me at my unprepared worst causing an injury that put me out of action for over eight months. To be honest to myself, the pain is no longer there but whether the doctors have been able to nip the problem from the bud, I have my own doubts.

A good opportunity for me to test whether I am on course will be the urban stampede at Bangalore on the 10th August which is a 20km long relay which I plan to run by myself. If I am able to complete it gracefully, should be very encouraging.

Until then…

In spite of myself

I just sent the link of my blog to a friend and asked her to give it a read as I usually do. At that moment it struck me that it had been ages since I had written anything or posted anything new on the blog. I was, to say the least, quite ashamed of myself. So I decided to write, just for the heck of it. Decided to just pen down what came to my mind.
So, here goes...

I did not grow up being an avid reader like my sister, something that I always regretted but never bothered to do anything about. If I remember correctly, the first book that I finished reading completely was the legendary 'Godfather' by Mario Puzo. You will not believe that this happened during the first year of my post graduation course. All my reading before this was restricted to Asterix comics (which I still enjoy :P). I do agree that it was a bit too late to start working on cultivating the habit, but as they say, better late than never. I am so glad that this was the book that I started with, because this was such an enjoyable experience that it got me truly hooked onto reading.

After finishing my first book, I did keep at it quire regularly. After passing out of college I had to move out of home for work. Fortunately the house we lived in did not have a television and hence I could devote all my time after work to reading. I read books at the rate of one per fort night which I was very impressed with going by my standards. I also made a conscious effort to read books on subjects as diverse as possible, from classics to non-fiction to serious fiction to the Harry Potter series to humour, to autobiographies. Almost everything I could lay my hands on.

Some time last year, I did have to travel for a short duration out of my base office to our corporate head office on a project. I did not know that this trip would threaten this habit of reading which I had developed with so much dedication.

The reason, a television set in my apartment.

I watched test matches getting up at 5 am in the morning, watched movies until late even after long days at office. I just could not switch the dam television set off!!!

This phenomenon lasted for almost six months.

I was looking forward to returning back to my home office as I was sure that back there I did not have a television at home so I will be forced to resume reading.

Any guesses what happened just before I moved back in with my room-mates???

Yes! You are correct! My room-mates indeed bought a television set!

And here I am, back to watching test matches and movies all over again!

Sadly, the book that I had started reading before I had begun my travel is still as unread as it was back then.

Sigh!!!

'Mee Mumbaikar' or 'Meech Mumbaikar'???

I have been out of home for almost two years now. Like most ex-patriots, if I may call myself that, I have been a part of a small group of people from my hometown. Not that we do not have friends outside these few, we certainly do, but yes, we do cling on to each other as we have a lot in common, in terms of our expectations and problems staying away from home.

Almost all of us have some time or the other experienced, to some degree or the other have been at the receiving end of step motherly treatment just because we are not natives.
Our experiences have been as diverse as can be. Some luckier people have just had to bear the frustration of rickshaw drivers and bus conductors.

The worst affected have been those who have their own vehicles. Without any exception, all of them have ended up in an argument with another driver, which is quite a routine when in traffic. What has been sad though is that if you end up having an argument with a native, the main reason for the conflict is left aside and it becomes a war of natives vs non-natives. They bluntly ask the question, “tum kaunse gaun kaa???”(which town do you belong to).
This is puzzling.

There is the sentiment amongst the locals that we actually come over and snatch a bite of their food from their own plate. Stories of maids asking for a raise with a justification that, “aapko bhi toh mil raha hai naa”(even you are earning, so…). If you have not heard these stories earlier, they may seem bizarre, but they are quite truly, a reality.

What these people do not realize is that when people come into the city they give rise to a lot of businesses. They live in rented houses, eateries do a lot of business, transporters, both organized and unorganized. Instead of being thankful to the direct beneficial fall out of the influx of people into the city, they feel an uncanny hatred towards the “non-natives”. Extremists carry out kidnappings, commit brutal murders, where money is not the motive but to spread fear in the minds of the non-locals.

The government also exploits this sentiment through gimmicks like blaming a person of the stature of NRN of not doing anything for the common man.
Such a shameless thing to do! Being in the government themselves and expecting a person from the private sector to work for the welfare for the people.

The irony being the fact that foreigners, namely people with a different nationality are not treated this way.

We used to find solace in the fact that, “Amchi Mumbai ashi nave!!!”(Our Mumbai is not like this). We would tell each other stories of how we grew up with very few Maharashtrian friends. We believed Mumbai is as much theirs as it is ours. Mumbai’s biggest strength has been its accommodating nature. Mumbai has always been proud of bring able to provide means of livelihood to one and all which is one important aspect of what we call the spirit of Mumbai!

After witnessing on television, the way the issue of non-natives in Mumbai was politicized by a local party raised a doubt in all our minds. We felt extremely sad and somewhere deep down in our hearts, we all cried, “Aapli Mumbai kadhich ashi navati!” (Our Mumbai was never like this before)

Foot in mouth. Thats my thing!

It is not always that you get a chance to meet long lost friends and that too get invited over for dinner. And when they do, how many of us actually come out totally embarrassed??? Well, I do.

I had to travel for work a lot lately. On one such travel, I was invited for dinner by an old friend to her apartment. It was an all girls apartment. After exchanging the routine pleasantries we all got talking, catching up on a lot of stuff which I had not got an opportunity to do for quite some time.

I do not remember how exactly, but the topic of discussion moved towards driving. Yours truly, absolutely regardless of the fact that I am in a girl’s apartment blurted out my opinion on women drivers. Without mincing any words, I said, “Women are horrible drivers!”

Quite a few eyebrows were raised and there was a bit of silence for a moment. I thought the male chauvinist in me had hurt the sentiments of the women of today. I had no intention what so ever to do that. It was actually a hangover of car ride with a friend that morning which had resulted in a small accident with a car driven by a woman. Helplessly my friend had yelled, “WHY DO PEOPLE ALLOW WOMEN TO DRIVE???”
One of the hosts then broke the silence and said, “o…is it??? Then we drop the plan to drop you home tonight”

I didn’t know that one of them actually owns a car, drives and they all have a plan to drop me home. I also wasn’t aware that the city had commutation problems once it gets late. You may actually grant me the benefit of doubt for this statement but certainly not for what I did after that.

These girls were greats hosts and in spite of my thoughtless remark came to drop me home as it was late.

As we sat in the car, the girl who owned the car said, “Horrible driving is it??? Now you will get to see some of it!!!”

I could have just laughed it off.
But how could I???
Foot in mouth has been my thing!

I opened my mouth to utter what was nothing short of an icing on the cake. I said, “No no…you guys are ok on such empty roads.”
For the moment everyone laughed and I realized what I had just said.

I have not met that girl after that and I do not know what I will say if I do end up bumping into her again somewhere. I should probably just keep quite.