Myopic Vision

If you've watched the soap "Neighbours", then you will be familiar with the theme song below: Neighbours, Everybody needs good neighbours With a little understanding You can find the perfect blend Neighbours...should be there for one another That's when good neighbours become good friends Ooh Neighbours, should be there for one another That's when good neighbours become good friends. Growing up in India, I knew everyone in my locale. But that was just the way it was in India. Then I moved overseas, and discovered that not everything was quite the way the song went. Neighbours came and left before you even had a chance to say hello. Mind you, I moved a few times, so I did not really get a chance to acquaint myself with any of them. That is, until I met Bill and Linda (surname withheld for privacy, although I can hear Linda bellow in my ear "Privacy, what's that?"). Bill is Scottish (still has a bit of the accent) and Linda is Kiwi. They've been m

I went shopping......and I bought ...A HOUSE (Well it's mine and the bank's). Now comes all the fun part (read RESPONSIBILITY) of paying off the mortgage and the bills and the council fees. But I'm so looking forward to it all. I've finally got my own private space in the world and I can't wait to move in.

As an Indian, I could not be prouder of my country's cricket team than to know that we have secured a place in the inaugural twenty 20 World Cup. The fact that we meet our arch rivals Pakistan in the finals is even more of a thrill. I don't think India and Pakistan have ever met in a World Cup Final before, so this match has a lot riding on it for a variety of reasons. It is being referred to as the most exhilarating moment in cricket for a very long time. For both India and Pakistan it is an opportunity to exorcise the ghosts of the 2007 World Cup. According to media reports, the bookies are extremely busy and the broadcasters are speculating on viewership figures. The fans are no doubt in a state of nervous anticipation and I’m sure even the most impassive viewers will find themselves compelled to comment. As for the poor players, the pressure must definitely be on. This is not just about a game anymore; it is much more than it. It is a war of sorts. The hopes and aspirations

One of the things that I genuinely miss about India is the ready availability and good quality of health care services in the country. While this may meet with raised eyebrows, those like myself who have lived (and still live) in India will know the extent of the truth I speak. There are so many doctors in India and many of them are really good. Sadly NZ like some other developed nations is badly lacking in this area. There is a shortage of doctors and healthcare here is really expensive. A reason why I hate being ill and I don't frequent the doctors. Three weeks ago I developed a sore throat which got progressively worse and very painful. So after a week of suffering, I decided to try and be sensible about it and visit my GP. The visit was brief, the examination even swifter and she diagnosed me with a throat and chest congestion. I was put on a course of antibiotics and sent on my merry (well not so merry) way. The cost of this visit including the medication was $85. A couple of

Somewhere between moving countries, getting a job and my life sorted, I lost touch with the family news doing the rounds. When I finally read my emails there was a flurry of excitement and even a blog entry on my cousin Mark. Mark who is in his early forties, still good looking and quite charming in his own way has a new girlfriend. While he hasn't exactly made any announcement about this latest development in his life, the family grapevine has ensured that the news has been suitably spread via email and of course a blog entry. Mark is the eldest of my cousins and was the first in our generation to get married. 12 years of marriage and an expensive divorce later, it seemed like he would not be in a hurry to get back into the dating scene. We all love Mark dearly and this happy news has naturally caused a fair dose of delight. I don't know what his ladyfriend is called, but I hear that she seems nice and makes him happy and that's really all that counts. I think Mark is incr

I'm going GREEN...not with envy, but I seemed to have suddenly developed a conciousness about the environment and sustainabililty. I recently started work at a well established Engineering and Environmental services firm. While I had heard about them being sustainable and eco friendly, I genuinely believed that it was nothing more than a PR stunt. But much to my pleasent surprise, sustainability is a practice that is deeply engrained in the work ethos here. Everything is recycled, there are worm bins in the kitchen and even a worm house on the deck where the worms are regularly fed kitchen waste. All printing is double sided, eco friendly stationery and other utility products are purchased and even our clients and suppliers are selected accordingly or educated in the fine art of being green. So two minutes into the job (I've not even been there a month) and I'm already starting to make subtle changes to how I do things. I use the car only to go grocery shopping and I no lon

I was reading an article the other day about the Rolling Stones. I haven't been able to get their frontman Mick Jagger out of my mind. In fact, I can't stop thinking about him. Now don't get me wrong, I don't fancy the pants off the man. In fact, I find him and his big lips physically replusive. But, even I have to admit, that Mick Jagger has a certain something going for him. At 64, he still plays to packed stadiums, he still has a bevy of leggie beauties that surround him (it's got a be a bit more than viagra), he has earned more money than I can ever dream of and he still has plenty of allure and a youthful exuberance for life. He may not seem like the ideal role model, but he serves as a good benchmark of aspiration. And so, I think I want to be a bit like him - an eternal optimist, a go-getter and I tell you if at 30 I have half the charisma and energy that Mick Jagger has at 64, I'll get plenty of SATISFACTION.

I'm spending the afternoon with Dr. John Reynolds or Gorah Sahib as he likes to be called. Dr. JR was a former manager of mine a few years ago and we've stayed in touch ever since. He has recently written his first novel entitled UNCOMMON ENEMY which is a political thriller set in wartime New Zealand - with a unique historical twist. It has action, adventure, betrayal and a love story. He has received a number of positive reviews and was recently interviewed by Kim Hill on her radio show. To find out more about him please visit his website http://www.drjohnreynolds.com I've also encouraged him to start blogging and hopefully aspiring young writers will gain a few insights into the creative writing process from him. His blog is http://drjohnreynolds.blogspot.com

I was at a first Holy Communion party yesterday. It was a fun party, the music was good, the hosts were gracious, the food was superb and the guests seem to be enjoying themselves. Yet despite the company and the social niceties around me, I found myself bored silly. And I came to the horrifying conclusion, that somewhere, over the course of the last few years; I have turned into a social snob. I don’t consider myself to be anything special, nor do I for a moment imagine that I am better than anyone. In fact, I’ll gladly attest to the fact that there are scores of Indians whom I’ve met that are far more talented, skilled, educated, socially and financially better off than I. So just what is my problem? Why, I ask myself, can I comfortably make friends with a Swedish girl in Edinburgh, but find myself so prickly in social gathering of Indians – people of my own community. I am not ashamed of my Indian ness. Both my parents and my best friend still live in India. And I’ve had the good fo

Today seems to be yet another remarkably glorious day. It's warm, sunny just like the past couple of weeks have been. The garden is a riot of colour, the roses are in full bloom, as are the spring bulbs. You could say, the weather has been perfect. The only problem is, it's the middle of May. Technically it's the end of Autumn here in the southern hemisphere and the weather should be dully, grey, wet and miserable. But strangely it isn't. It feels more like spring. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for the warm weather, but I can't help wondering if the weather ladies have got their wires crossed or realistically if this is yet another tell tale sign of global warming. Global warming is being discussed all over the world. Perhaps it is time to take stock and pay closer attention to what needs to be done to minimise it's effects. Because the truth is, the future consequences of these strange weather patterns will be devastating and surely that is cause fo

"They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old:Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.At the going down of the sun, and in the morning We will remember them. Lest we forget." For New Zealanders and Australians around the world, today was a solemn day of remembrance. Anzac day commemorates the first landing of their troops at Anzac cove in Gallipoli on the 25th of April 1915. And ever year on this day, scores of Kiwis come together at war memorials across the country to remember the sacrifices made by previous generations of war veterans and especially those who lost their lives on the battlefields abroad. I attended my local Anzac day parade and it was a very poignant ceremony. Attendances at these services including the dawn services seem to have had record highs. This year, at Gallipoli around 18,000 people are estimated to have attended the dawn service. Anzac day is the one day, that is of perhaps the greatest significance for New Zealanders and 92 years

A few weekends ago, somewhere between sheer boredom and a burning desire for some kind of creative expression, I decided that I was going to do a bit of painting. Until quite recently, art has only ever marginally interested me. But my recent trips to Paris and Amsterdam got me really excited about art, particularly, after spending hours examining and appreciating works of artists like Rembrandt, Van Gogh, and William Hogart among others. And so, in a blinding flash of inspiration, I decided that I would try my hand at painting. I had an image of what I wanted to do and I was feeling fairly confident that I could transfer this onto canvas. So off I went to get my supplies – paint, easel, canvas etc and I began to paint my “masterpiece”. An hour and a half later, it became abundantly clear to me (and those around me), that I was never going to be the next Picasso. What was meant to be an image of mother and child, turned out looking more like a giant acqua-green kidney bean spread acros

"It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife." (Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen 1813) It is also a truth acknowledged in India, that a single man with an NRI tag to his name (Non Resident Indian), must be, by mere virtue of the fact that he lives abroad, not just wealthy but a person of sound moral and religious character. And so scores of Indian newpapers run daily matrimonal columns where people advertise a preference for NRI girls or boys based on this rather erroneous assumption that "a life abroad must be easier". While it is hardly unusual in India, to find a matrimonial match through the daily newspapers, there definately seems to be a trend among a lot of young women in urban India, to find themselves the perfect NRI, to settle down with and live a life of "comfort" overseas. Sadly, while most of these marriages are made in heaven, there is a staggeringly high proportion of th

As my plane made its slow descent into the Dabolim Airport at Goa; I knew that the next few days, would be a essay; with paragraphs of excitement and joyous celebration puncuated, with moments of chaos, nervous discomposure and a few conflagrant tempers. I was here from London, in this relaxed part of the world for just a few days. There was a singluar purpose to my trip and that was my cousin Clyne's wedding. I am the product of the age old tradition of the joint family system in India. So, having lived a large portion of my life with my cousins, meant that there would be no pardoning of any absence on my part, for an occassion as grand and important as a family wedding. Family ties are very important in India, a fact that was clearly endorsed by the global representation of our family at the wedding in Goa. But, I was not here, merely out of a sense of duty or tradition; I was here, because Clyne (the bridegroom) and I are especially close, and so I wanted to be a part of his big