Haikus

Rain
Rain in summertime
Words flowing to match the vibe
Will they grow or drown

Mountains
A cold day it is
In the mountains with the sun
The clouds are teasing

Grief
A chasm exists
It can swallow, it can heal
What will you allow

Melting ice cream
It is a hot day
The mood is languid and sweet
Melting like my treat

Books
Like ants on white sand
Lines twist and swirl to form words.
They contain the memories of man

248
Two weeks to feel it
Four weeks to see it yourself
Eight weeks to hear it

Stay tuned for more..

Hey K, It's K

Hi K, 

Gosh, what was it like to be in your early twenties and how did so much time pass by in what feels like a fraction of a moment?

Let me start by saying, I haven’t forgotten you. I couldn’t, if I tried. It’s been a long long time and I have kept a part of you secure in the depths of my soul.  

At times you feel like a completely separate entity from me today, even though I know that’s impossible. And sometimes you are so alive within me that I have to remind myself that I am older and technically wiser (though I really wonder about that one). 

I am digging through my memories, my words, some photos and trying to create as close a real composite of who you were. Unfortunately, time has this strange habit of changing perspectives, going as far as eliminating the ugly from the mind. 

So let’s see if I get this right. At 20 you are still in college, AIESEC is done, JJ’s left as have a lot of friends. There aren’t as many distractions and it’s time to buckle down and make the best of your last year. I know you felt the pressure to have something else lined up post college as most of your friends did and I also remember how nothing really felt right in your mind. An issue you struggled with for a few years. 

I wish I could go back and tell you not to worry. That there is something ‘right’ out there for you and you won’t have to feel so unsettled all the time. I wish I could show you how well it eventually turned out. 

But look, you found your space, at EDI, with Channel V and then with dad. It was a sightly chaotic time and you had people critiquing and judging you, but I am so proud that you fought back and found your own space. Yes, dad helped a lot, but that worked because you let him, because you wanted it to bad enough.

At EDI you would tell whoever listened that you plan to make a million and retire by 35. Well darling, you did make a million - more actually and you retired at 41. I would say you did it! 

The post academic years were fun for you, weren’t they? The true embodiment of the phrase ‘work hard party harder’. When I think about it, I envy you the energy and freedom. Your ability to be spontaneous, to always be game for anything and importantly your confidence and security to do it all on your own. JJ was away, you had the choice to let that hold you back or to choose to be independent and I am so happy you chose the latter. I envy that today. 

You forged some wonderful relationships, some that lasted, some that didn’t and that’s okay. Because they all mattered, you grew because of them and I am because of them. 

But you did make some ‘not so smart’ choices and will feel the repercussions for years. Hell, I am still reeling from some of them, so thank you but no thank you! (Certifiably nuts, I say!) 

Hard times lay ahead. I wish I could prepare you for the losses you will face over the next two decades. But then I think, there is no preparing for losing your own father, grandparents and friends. Death, even anticipated, is always abrupt.

Even worse (yes, it is actually worse) you are going to be betrayed by so many who you, at that age, trusted with everything you had. You are going to take some bad hits and of course live to tell the tale (else how would I be doing this).

You are also on the cusp of some very interesting and fun times. You can’t even fathom how many ‘up in the air’ concepts are going to be real things. Tech is going to change every aspect of your life. The world will shrink by the day and that will open up opportunities for everyone. 

You messed up at times, but you cleaned up; you fumbled at things, but you soared when you found the right path; you fought, you made up. You did a lot and I am proud of you for having learnt from every part of your experiences. 

If I had to give you advice, it would be to take your health and fitness seriously, stop smoking, learn to control your temper and balance your ego, travel more, make more friends and never ever lose the spark that kept your eyes twinkling.

Kxx

The Games We Play

Just as my dad was responsible for my introduction to reading, so is he the one who taught me curiosity and fantasy. From the time I can remember, he would come up with a variety of mental games that he and I would play. 

For example, he would point at a random stranger on the street and get me to guess the person’s lifestyle or profession, or maybe what he had for lunch. Another one was where he would make me describe a setting, place or scenario to match the music playing that moment. Yet another one was where he would ask me to choose a car or holiday or ideal home or something like that with a ‘money is no object’ etc addendum. 

While I have always had an answer, I realised that not everyone is brought up to think this way. I have been fortunate to know and be close to men and women who come from so many different backgrounds and yet, I can’t imagine any of them being able to jump these mental hoops like I was taught to do. 

As an adult, I often wonder why dad used to play these games with me. It wasn’t to kill time; he and I never had that problem. So what was he trying to achieve? 

If there is one thing I am sure about, it is that dad never did anything without some lateral thinking. Fortunately, I inherited a little of that and have been able to come to some kind of conclusion. So “if money is no object, what car would you buy”?

Naturally the answer changed every few years, based on new models, increased exposure or even the psychological & physiological changes that I went through as I moved from childhood to adulthood. 

What this did was make me open my mind and throw my imagination out there. It allowed me to be a little crazy, to vocalise dreams and fantasies. Indirectly this sparked a lot of curiosity, made me aspire to a way of life, become ambitious and even a little restless.

He would then use my answers to put the financial implications into perspective. Meaning that if I wanted to spend X amount of money, I would need to earn a proportionate amount, which means I would have to take certain steps with work and so on. Basically he would outline the path to get there. 

The not so subtle teachings were to focus, work hard, be consistent, make better life choices and have a plan, a trackable plan to achieve it all. All this under the guise of a frivolous silly game. 

When I look back at my life, I realised that my aspirations grew but so did my understanding of practicality and necessity. I don’t know how often I said ‘when I have this much money’ I will buy myself “this or that” and every single time I had the money, I didn’t really want to use it to buy “this or that”. Priorities change too. Which means that a lot of the ‘products’ I coveted when I was younger, I stopped wanting or didn’t actually end up getting (yet - you never know, right?).

Some; I did! And have derived immense pleasure from them. I get a kick out of them each & every time I use them. They make me smile and they make me proud. I know dad would have been proud as well, though I am sure some of them would have made him roll his eyes - what can I say, we were very similar and very different. 

Who would have guessed that funny little games would shape me into the person I am today? Actually, I am sure he knew. Like I said, he did nothing without a vision. 

Wherever you are dad, thank you for these happy memories and games that got me to today!!

PS: There was a game that taught me how to write as well, but I’ll save that for another day.