Finding Calm

"Now close your eyes....imagine something peaceful...try to remember something that makes you happy...your childhood, your mom, a day at the beach....go back...."

As the teacher says these soothing words at the end of the session, and I frantically try to transport myself to a happy, calm, serene, soothing place outside of the world around me. The only calming thing that pops up in my mind is the faces of my children...but it is not what the teacher means when he wants us to experience meditative sleep/ happiness in those five minutes of shavaasan.

As I wonder why it takes me forever to take my mind to happy times, I discover that it is because I find calm at an unusual place.

I find that the most appealing images of life to me are those of people eating - in a restaurant (not a fancy one with piano playing the background, and the fountain's tricking sound soothing you; but those of common tea shops and Bikanerwala's, and Haldiram's and the likes), in a food court, on the bus and train stations, in fast food outlets, in offices, at home..... Everywhere.

The reason is pretty simple. I find that looking at all the people eating makes me happy because it tells me that all is not yet lost. It tells me that in spite of knowing that they are eating stuff that is supposed to be rich in all the things bad for us- oil, sugar and salt, cholesterol and saturated fats- they are eating it and they look fine. It is comforting in an unusual way.

Yes, it might be bad for the body but it tells me that so many people are healthy enough to eat this 'bad' stuff- may be once in a week, once in a month or even daily. Their hearts are in the right place, doing the job they are meant to do; their muscles and bones will still take them back to their cars and their homes and their offices, their waistlines are never going to go away but then they know it....it is a sin they a committing very knowingly, and enjoying it too. It fills me with a sense of calm and peace to see the world around me at that point immersed in eating what they want to, and enjoying every bite that they take...right from the young children to their grandparents. It tells me that we all are in the same boat, even if it will eventually sink one day; it makes me feel a part of the bigger community of human beings who are committing the same mistakes (another way of saying that it reduces my personal guilt!) and most importantly, it takes my mind away from the harsher realities of food- hunger, pesticides, additives, preservatives (all the E numbers), hormone fed fruits, veggies and chickens, artery blockages, reduced immunities, gastric infections, tipping needles on the weighing scale, failed kidneys and livers, and doctors.

I know, it is warped logic, totally opposite of what I tell myself and my kids....but it is calming, even if only for a little while.

There is no rule about what should or should not calm you, is there?

Food for my soul

I know I am doing it again, but believe me, it is like one of those things which are beyond control. It happens, at the most, three times in a year; and every time it happens, it leaves my soul fed and hearty for a while.

Today, it happened by chance. I had no plan to sit in the school cafeteria for three hours, waiting for school exams to finish; but with the temperature in the car showing 50 degrees, i thought it best to bring the kids home with me rather than letting them walk to the bus area. So, there i was, in the school cafeteria; with the one-of-its-kind opportunity to observe children of various age groups and nationalities in their own element.

What fun! What joy!

How i wished i could be like them, one of them- that group of 8-9 year old boys sharing a box of store-bought humus with the soft triangles of khaboos put directly on the table (yes mommy! no napkin, no plate- didn't even sanitise hands!!!!), and enjoying every morsel of it. How i wished i could grow younger again and not worry about germs and sickness and anything beyond the moment i was presently in. Oh! what calm.....

Then I met a group of chatty grade 3 girls- three different nationalities, who, looking at the bags i was carrying thought i was a 'Miss', a teacher at the school. They reminded me why i miss my girlfriends so much! They were very friendly, shared their jokes with me, told me why it was bad to go out in sun in such weather, laughed with me at our sweating faces as we stood waiting and waved a lovely bye when it was time for them to go. I am thinking, they were really the conversation gurus every corporate team building event and every social etiquette class needs. They needed no introductions, no reasons to start talking to me. We were just at the same place, at the same time and in those ten minutes they spoke to me as one of their own- jumping and screaming with extreme joy when i reminded them that the school vacation was just a week away. They reminded me what a beautiful age it is - this 6-9 years age. Wonderful, carefree, curious, open, innocent, pure.

And then i saw some of grade 11 or 12 girls with their manicured hands and pedicured feet, wearing Birkenstocks with their school uniform, in their own world of prom night and university admissions.

Soul food...that's what it was.  One school cafeteria is a small reflection of the types of people (and in Dubai, types of nationality) one can find in the world. From  black to white and all shades of brown in between; from grumpy to happy and all shades of personality in between; from studious to carefree and all shades of casually-looking-at-the-revision-sheets in between.....it feels quite like an airport here. Everyone sharing the same goal of boarding a flight and yet, everyone going some place different; carrying their own luggage!

Over and Out...for two months!

It is that time of the year again that moms in Dubai love and dread, simultaneously! Yes, two months of summer vacation...a wonderful opportunity to spend more time with your kids, a reminder of our own happy schooldays, and a constant worry about what to do every single day! There is no holidays' homework; the kids have been doing their extra-curricular activities all through the year, and so, you cannot really push them too much now even if it seems like such a waste of time if the kids are not utilizing this extra time to learn a new skill; the weather is already 45-48 degrees allowing them to play outdoors only after 6pm; and most of their friends travel away from such horrid weather....so what do you do? Especially if both the parents are working? Leave the kids to watch TV and skype on the internet all day long; or let the maids entertain them?

Sure, there are 'summer camps' which come in especially handy for working moms, but under no circumstances should they be confused with the American summer camps we have so often heard about in the Hollywood movies. If you decide not to get trapped in these camps then all you are left with is DUCTAC summer camps, an anticipated holiday back home or somewhere, visits to movies, shopping malls, Ski Dubai, Ice rink and Modhesh fun city....rest of the time, it is a constant battle of wills! And yet, these two months fly away sooner than expected....so, must be the good times I guess!

So, yes, it is that time of the year again when you say hello to Shinchan and Doremon and Ben10; bye-bye to yoga sessions and structured routines...only for two short months!

Happy Holidays!

"You know me!"

"You know me!" she said with a big smile.

I wasn't sure. It was the first time someone had used those words with me and expected me to know them enough to guess their choice/ reaction/ preference. The fact was, i didn't know her well enough to know her choice- and here, i was being presented with a picture, a group picture, of young men and was expected to correctly 'guess' the man of her choice from that group.

I fumbled, i tried and failed; miserably.

I blamed myself for not knowing her better.

Years later, another colleague used the same words with me when i asked her what she wanted to eat.

"You know me" she said.

"This one is easier to figure out'' i told myself. We had been colleagues for three years and had shared lunch times. I did better.

But there was no stopping her. She continued (and still does!) to use, "You know me" every time we met, for everything; and everytime it turned out something that i didn't know and she expected me to know about her- her choice in fashion, jewellery, her relationship with her mother-in-law, her career choices, her preferences with regard to friends etc etc etc..

I blame myself again thinking may be i didn't pay enough attention to her, may be i should have made an effort to know her better, may be....until recently.

Recently, as i sat with an older acquaintance, who i do know better than i knew any of my colleagues or friends above, she said, casually, in the flow of the conversation, "You know me..."

I sat there, not reacting, hoping this would pass.

She continued, "I am fond of solid stuff- no small diamonds for me...." and off she went on her trail of elaborating about her taste and choices. And i can tell you i was thankful for that. I really did not know all that lot about her; but this time i also made a decision.

I decided, next time anyone says "You know me..."., i am not going to get all self-conscious and blame myself for actually not knowing him/her. It might be a better idea to say, "Actually, I don't think i know you not that well....", as long as i can manage to stop squirming from within and plaster a smile on my face to mask that thumping of my heart!

All my Pleasure!

What all we do for pleasure....shopping, socilaising, facebooking, reading, sports, playing music, pottery, quilting, gardening, charity work....the list is really long, if you really make an effort to know it all.

Ever since we are small kids, we are told to develop hobbies and interests, in order to be able to enjoy our free time; although we are perfectly happy watching our TV shows or running up and down the swings in the park or reading our Superman comics books, or now a days, being glued to the PSPs and iPADs. So is pleasure a very personal thing or does it have to be 'approved'  for appropriateness?

As i grow older, i find there is nothing compared to the happiness that fills my heart when I see my children sleeping safely in their beds; there is no anticipation bigger than holding my favourite author's  brand new book in my hand and looking forward to my reading time; no laughter compared to the laughter when  my children share a joke with me; nothing warmer than the hugs i share with my family every time i meet them, nothing more enjoyable than a good good movie that matches my expectations....it ends up becoming so personal that i forget that somewhere it did all start with  my parents advising me too to cultivate appropriate interests! It does make a difference- like a clay that can only be moulded when it is soft; before it is 'set'- to be able to learn and enjoy life; even if it means each one to his own!

India's Dr. Oz?

I am all for inspiration- inspired writings, inspired movies, inspired lives...but where it is due, and where it is possible, credit should be given to the original creator. I happened to watch 'All is Well with Dr. Ahluwalia' on Colours today. I am wondering why does it look so similar to Dr. Oz's show? The format, the topics of discussion, the audience involvement, the friendly doctor hosting the show....except that Dr. Ahluwalia seems very young (there goes the 'experience' part of credibility!, and i missed the beginning so i am not sure who Dr. Ahluwalia exactly is excpet that he hosts this show!!). I waited until the end of the show to see the credits for any hint of a "Thank you for not copywriting your format", or "Sorry, we borrowed the format without permission", or acknowledgement "Yes, we did copy the format but then we are experts at that...remmeber KBC etc. etc.???". But the credits rolled so fast that i could not read anything at all.

What is next...Doctors (Indianised of course!) on a competitor channel? Any day now!!

Struggling with my Thank You note...

So, how do you thank God when you really really mean it, deep down in your heart? How do you say thanks for that one moment of sanity, that one fraction of a second, that one flash of thought in your mind? I am struggling.

That Thursday evening,  when i reversed my car in the Spinneys parking,  making sure that the car next to me, behind me, or around me was not reversing, and was about to turn left to get out of the parking, the Hummer appeared just inches away from the back seat window- where my son sat blissfully unaware with his eyes on the screen and ears plugged with earphones. I honked, and honked. The Hummer stopped immediately, and I went back into  my parking space. For a moment, i could not fathom where had this Hummer appeared from and how had it come so close to my car which was already out of the parking space.

This Hummer was reversing from three spaces away from me but for some reason had taken so much space coming out of the parking that it almost hit my car. I stopped the car and got out, ready to confront the driver for being so careless (even if Hummers do not have any beepers, they do have rearview mirror, don't they???). The front window rolled down and the Asian lady driver said, "I am sorry, i didnt see..."

"You were about to hit my kids!" I was angry.

"I am sorry I didnt see."

But I saw. I saw the white earphones dangling from her ears. Was she busy talking on her mobile, or listening to music, oblivious to the world around her?

Still shaking from the acknowledgement of possibility of the worst, I came back; looked at my son who was still busy watching his movie, hardly aware of what had just happened, or could have happened. I thanked God for that. I wouldn't have wanted him to get anxious or worried....but i could not get the sight of the Hummer backing and almost touching that window out of my mind...

I came home, and straight went to thank God....but nothing came out of my mouth except, "Thank you, thank you, thank you God...for saving us today".

I did not know what else to say for that flash of a second when I looked onto my left and saw the Hummer, or when i honked really hard; i could only shudder to think what could have happened if this had not happened!

Like the Ceat tyre ad says, "The roads are full of idiots...."

Go, Gossip!!!

Well, after years and years of assuming, learning, observing and concluding that I hate gossip; gossip is bad (at least for someone's reputation); that our problems and woes are ours alone; that my life is just my business and I do not want to talk to a third person about it...well, after all of that, I am now learning (afresh!) that gossip might actually be good for me! And for you, and for just about anyone!

It appears that the bottled up emotions; good, bad, neutral; fear, elation, love, hatred, and the whole lot; they are not good for us. We need to release them. And by releasing them, I do not mean go on the web and its multitude of social networks and start talking just about anyone. I only mean to say that we all need to have at least one good friend with whom you can share all of your happiness and miseries. Now that friend could be your spouse, your brother, your sister, your parent, your partner, your co-worker, your classmate, even your mom-in law- just as long as you do not spread malicious rumour about anyone , I think you will reap the benefits of talking. Apparently, talking relieves the stress of not talking (i.e. same as keeping quiet = keeping it all bottled up inside you= danger of that volcano erupting one day= chemical imbalance in the brain/ emotional breakdown/ depression). I am no doctor- but I am just sharing with you the advice I have recently received myself, from a most trusted professional. 

So, lighten up. Share your pain, your story about the people in your life (boss/ colleague/ roommate/ partner/a friend turned foe/ neighbour/ the stinky lab partner/ in-laws -yes, believe it or not- they are universally prone to be gossiped about the most!- et al), the sickness that you are going through, the happiness you experience, the little joys and the little sorrows (the maid being late for work again, e.g.!) ....it might just do you good!! Just give it an outlet, and the other person's insight might come as a bonus along with it.

 Finding someone you can trust more than enough; someone with enough patience and time to listen to your babbling.....that is the most difficult part, the only one problem in the whole deal. May be I need different people for different kinds of gossiping! (and spare that one person i was thinking about earlier!!)

P.S.: Take this advice at your own risk. Discretion is highly advised. Again!

Trying to understand His ways...

I have been taught (I am struggling to still learn it…but that’s another story!) that God knows the best…and our difficult times are just a ‘Test’. And a whole lot like that…

I am still struggling to understand these fundamentals of survival because for the life of me, I cannot figure out why does God have to test His own product? He should have some faith in His own creation??

Why do good people get tested more than the bad? Is that also His preparation for something bigger and better?

Why do young people die? They shouldn’t! At all….what could be a possible explanation for this? Is it their karma? Or are they just paying for bad karma of their parents (since their parents get punished when their young one is taken away from them?)??? And why wait for so long to punish one for the bad karma…that they have no memory of what they did so bad to deserve a punishment now?

I met this gentleman yesterday. Now, Dubai is a strange place- it is so small and yet you never ever bump into your colleagues or exes or neighbours or friends or even your FB group or yoga class members anywhere; and yet, you can, most definitely can, bump into a trolley full of grocery…belonging to your ex-ex-boss; just like that! I was seeing him after almost 13 years…and I had no difficulty in recognising him. As I initiated the conversation and asked the usual, “So, where are you now?” I could see that he was trying hard to recognise me but I am not sure if he did. And suddenly, just like that, in the middle of shoppers in the Fruit and Vegetable section, holding onto our trolleys, he told me his 21 years old daughter has stage 4 cancer, and he has just come back after finishing first five weeks of treatment for her. I was shell-shocked. I didn’t know what to say. I had seen this young girl when she was about 7 or 8…and the only thought that crossed my mind was (and I am sorry if anyone thinks this is blasphemy) that this is rude. God cannot do this, should not do this. Isn’t it sadistic on His part to give something, let it be nurtured and made beautiful and; and then suddenly, with a snap of His fingers, harm it so much? Who is He testing, and for what? The doctors here had a part to play in this plan of His, is also worth a mention though (they couldn’t diagnose her cancer for a year, resulting in it reaching stage 4!)

At a time like this, it is easier for an outsider to give a lecture on all the morale-boosting words he has picked up along the life’s way; but as a sufferer, it is so difficult to keep faith. You oscillate between praying and getting angry; hope and despair; negotiating and giving up…

I cannot figure out why, just why does God do this? It is okay to test, but making a young life (and there are younger lives…children with leukaemia, thalassemia, and other diseases for which nothing can be done except managing the pain…) go through so much of suffering does not justify it. Or, maybe I am just too weak; not brave enough to withstand the pressure of His tests. Forgive me, but that’s how He made me!

Disclaimer: I hope i have not hurt anyone's religious or spiritual sentiments by expressing my thoughts on the 'will of God'- that was certainly not the intention. I am only searching for the answers that seem to elude me.

That, my friend, explains it!

“My one cat has a British passport, and the other- UAE passport.”

“What? Cats also get passports?” said one.

“Our kids don’t get the UAE passport, but the cats do?” another disbelieving voice.

In reply, she just shrugged.

But it just did not leave me. Was the cat’s life really better than ours, or just simpler?

After all, a cat does not worry if it gets its last rites done here or in the home country.

A cat will, most probably, not have a will- so whether the Sharia laws apply, or that of the home country do- it doesn’t matter.

A cat doesn’t worry if it gets any benefits from having a particular nationality, or if it is eligible for social benefits because taxes have been paid on its behalf all through its life- including, fines and tolls…

A cat is happy to live wherever its family lives- the human family- and doesn’t fret over being away from its roots.

A cat doesn’t have to think if a citizenship will help its kittens get admission in prestigious universities in that country.

A cat doesn’t care if it has a property here or back home, or loans, or a fancy car, and its loans; or an overdue card – it doesn’t need those designer shoes or bag or dress, or hobby lessons….

It does not even have a religion- so it does not have to worry about any rituals, restrictions, religious holidays, freedom to practice its religion, or just plain sense of comfort from being amongst more cats from the same region/ religion/ caste/ country/ colour…

The cat doesn't think about which country has good healthcare system....

The cat probably, most probably, doesn’t think about retirement, and all the practical problems that come with it…

All it needs is a loving family, and just enough money to meet its needs…

Of course, its life is so much more simpler to manage and afford- even for the government!

Now, if only human life was just as straight forward……my friend wouldn’t have to clear that history exam to get her British passport! Probably!!!

Seize it - NOW!

Shoot! Why didn’t I go atop the Eiffel tower??

****! Why didn’t I go for those rides @ the Ferrari World before?

****! Why didn’t I go for Zumba and salsa and all those fast-paced aerobics classes before??? Not even the free trial class???

Everything – a regret, and a wish- wish I had done it before...before I was told I couldn’t do it anymore, not in the foreseeable future- thanks to years of prioritising everything else before taking care of my own body! Not even the desert safari? I couldn’t help scolding myself, feeling bad at that moment- when I realised, there are still a thousand other things that I can do today, that I might not be able to do tomorrow. Finally, I understood Kabir's words- kaal kare so aaj kar, aaj kare so ab... pal mein parlay hoyegi, bahuri karega kab...literally translated as:

What you have to do tomorrow, do it today; what you have to do today, do it now- for any moment might be the final moment, when will you do it then?

I have used and heard and read those words umpteen number of times; and yet, it took me so long to understand. I should have remembered those profound words every single day of my life...I wouldn’t have missed living life so much then! I am glad though that there is still time- time before arthritis makes my knees weak, before high BP and cholesterol strike my head and heart, before my eyes grow weak with glaucoma, before the wrinkles make the red lipstick look horrific on my lips, before I am rendered incapable of wearing the silk sitting in my special storage boxes, and before I have to just pass on the jewellery so lovingly gifted by my husband and parents to my daughters-in-law. There is time before I am told I am too old, too fat, too wrinkly, too this, too that, too whatever...to do what I can do today, now; I still have time to live.

Of Tea Cups and Coffee Mugs, and beyond...

“Wow! So many cups!” was her first reaction when she opened the cup cabinet.

I smiled. “I had got so bored with the same cups Madam has…” she continued.

She was a visiting maid, having accompanied my friend that day, and was now helping me serve tea.

I smiled again.

That was probably the first time I thought why I loved buying cups and mugs and kettles…did they remind me of my Kitchen Playset and pretend tea parties we had when we were kids, or did they quietly comfort my ‘scared of change and yet, get bored easily’ streak? I think it is partly both, but more that streak related to change.

Everyone gets bored, and yet change is sometimes not possible (you cannot change your family, your relatives, your boss,  e.g.) or  advisable (changing your spouse or having an extra marital affair just to add some excitement in your life….would be on the verge of stupidity actually!), or  is unaffordable (your home, your country, or even your job…), or even scary (any of the above could be scary, depending upon individual circumstances!).

It is then that these little cups in bone-china, porcelain,ceramic, stone, steel and baked mud come to my rescue…they add an excitement to life without all the side effects of change! A new cup, or even the cup that has not been used for a long time and hence feels new- both have the same capabilities of adding colour, romance, and life to something as mundane and humdrum as teatime. Probably, it is the same reason why we want to eat out, or sometimes just go out for a cup of coffee or a plate of chaat…it helps break the monotony and routine of something as simple and essential as eating and drinking.

For long, I have kept the special crockery for special occasions; and frankly, for practical reasons (it is expensive, and I cannot afford it being chipped, lost, scratched upon during the course of daily wear and tear); some of it, I still do. And yet, the other day when I decided to have coffee in one of those special bone-china mugs mom had gifted me, it was an amazing feeling to see the froth rise.  As I took my sips, I felt on another plane, that familiar and yet untraceable rush of mushiness enveloping me all over again…

I realised then, that every single piece of crockery serves a purpose besides serving food or drinks…it helps me live an ordinary and everyday  experience like an extraordinary one. It  can make me feel special (say, when it is a delicate white, embossed floral bone-china or fine porcelain),  nostalgic (an older piece flooding me with memories of how and when and why it was bought- like those regular brown ones I had bought only because they reminded me of my holidays at my aunt’s place!), excited (a new piece with its new feel), bored (when it is the same blue stone cup!),  enthralled (the one with the Japanese birds drawn on them…) or even romantic (the bone-china coffee mug with the froth dripping over the rim and smelling so divine)- just by being what it is!

I think I just enjoy the easy change I get by just choosing a different cup for my tea, whenever I want.

Remembering the good, and only the good...

When I went there after almost two years of leaving the job and met all my ex-colleagues, I saw a man smiling broadly as we were all talking.
"Sorry, I did not recognise you,” I said. 
"...You shared your lunch with me,” he said. 
I still had no memory of that incident. He elaborated "It was my first day here and I hadn’t brought anything for lunch. You gave me an apple from your lunch. You are a very nice person..."

I was dumbstruck; not because I had not remembered it, not because I had only given him an apple, but because he had remembered that small incident and that small impromptu act had made me a nice person in his eyes.

I can assure you, I am not that nice a person. In fact, I can be mean and selfish, just like anyone else. However, this gentleman’s words reminded me how a small act can not only leave a good or a bad memory, but can also make or break relationships.

A few years ago, when my husband was travelling, I fell sick during the night. In the morning, still shivering, I wrapped myself in the quilt. I could not drive in that condition, not across the ocean (then and now) called SZR. The only person who came to my mind was my then colleague and friend AKS. She lived in Golden Sands, while I was near the then Defence Roundabout, and it was a time when Oasis Centre was as far as the people not working in Jebel Ali went on SZR! In less than half an hour she picked me up, took me back to Bur Dubai to our insurance approved doctor, helped me with the medicines, took me to her home, force-fed me the breakfast, and then dropped me back home...I have never forgotten that act of kindness. I could have never done it , especially if I had a baby to take care of. Every time I think about her or see her on my FB, that one incident towers above all to tell me that a friend in need is a friend indeed. I am ashamed to admit, I would have most likely failed her in her such time of need- thanks to my fear of SZR!

Whether it was the boss who took time out from his very busy schedule to answer my non-job related questions on Advertising, or his wife who always met us like she was one of us, the colleague who volunteered to show me how to put baby pics on the office desk without the horrible tape showing, the colleague who made dhansak for all of us, the friends who took care of me when I was sick in college and didn’t even take money for the fruits they had to buy to help me recover, the friend who took it on him to take us all out in those Eid holidays because my husband was travelling, the friend who offered to take care of my baby if I wanted to take up some classes to enrich my life, or the stranger who helped me on that cold Delhi evening when the auto-wallahs went on strike....each one is so different in their acts, and yet have the common thread of having been kind to me.

It is also surprising as I write this, that I only remember the good, happy, kind acts others have done for me. Not a single memory of a routine bad deed comes to my mind; not even if I scratch my brain.  So, I let go of it...I am happy to report that it feels lighter :).

If only I could say a big thank you to all those people whose acts of kindness in my time of need or otherwise helped me keep my faith ...if only I could promise myself that I will always only be kind to others, and create a memory that they will be happy to remember when they see, hear, or think of me...

The Signs of Life

I have always been confused about the concept of 'signs', as they are called. I have never really figured out how to read them...when I am trying to get something but don’t get it in spite of my 'best' efforts, is that a sign that I am not supposed to get it, or is that a sign that God is 'testing' my mental, emotional and physical strength, and sooner or later, I will be rewarded? I have never quite learnt to decipher them...

And yet, I allow myself to get intrigued by them. I wonder, when you meet someone, just like that, on the road, in the supermarket, at the bus stop, in the school, at the hospital, in the lift at your work place...just about anywhere, and your eyes lock for just that fraction of second, and you exchange a polite smile, a ‘thank you’ or ‘excuse me’, or 'you dropped that', or just start chatting about something you booth seem to be looking at or looking for....is it all so meaningless? Are all these people, I cross my path with on a daily basis, just meant to be casually passing by my life?

I met her also just as casually, in fact more than that. I had been going for those classes for a few sessions now, and hadn’t yet made any friends...the ladies would quietly pick up their belongings, walk out of the studio, and into their worlds; except the occasional ones who knew each other from before.

That day, while waiting for the class to begin, I went out to make a quick call. The phone was in my hand, and I was about to hit the dial pad when she came from the opposite direction. 

"The class never starts on time" I remarked, looking up at her, and expecting a grunting “Yes’. I thought she was the same woman (blame my memory cells! No one takes it seriously when I tell them that I have started forgetting things, names, faces….) who had been really upset due to late start of the class just the other day...and had left the class midway because it had upset her schedule.

"Yes,” she laughed and gave me a big smile, “but sometimes, the teacher comes on time- just to give us a surprise!"

We both laughed. She told me she tried but managed to come only once a week for the classes. (So, she definitely was not the same woman who had got upset the day before!)

And then, it just went on.

She offered to pick me up for another class elsewhere where she thought the instructor was better suited to my objective of attending these classes. I wondered (in a nice, and yet a bit sceptical kind of way!), what is this woman… she hardly knows me and yet she doesn’t mind picking me and dropping me back at my place for a class that I have shown no inclination for, so far. Then, we spoke about our kids, their schools; her vacation (she is going away today) plans, compared different education systems (IB vs. SABIS vs. British/ American), discussed the problems of our growing up kids, and compared notes on our teacher's way of teaching. By the end of five-seven minutes of our nonstop chatting, we had exchanged our names, shaken our hands, and smiled broadly at our teacher whose arrival meant we had to stop that high-pitched conversation and laughing.

At the end of the class, we exchanged phone numbers, and she surprised me by hugging not only me, but asking me to hug the kids also for her...

It was so surreal. At a place where women did not even bother to smile, I had made an instant connection with a woman who was as different from me in appearance, culture, expertise at the art, everything; as can be...and yet, it all had seemed so effortless. I hadn’t felt that connection with anyone in a long, long, long time.

Now, again, I am not sure if we were both just passing by each other's lives, and were just meant to have those happy moments, or will it eventually become an unlikely friendship. Either way, I think it was her warm smile that gave me the first sign!

That Split Second...

I was in my comfort zone. No tension, no SZR, no high speed traffic…this was the community area, and you could just roll down your windows and drive at 60-80 km per hour, enjoy the weather as you drive and finish your errands along the way. I turned towards the Town Centre, my indicator clearly showing my intentions. I saw that delivery van waiting to come out from the same point where I was supposed to go  in.  I was right in front of his vehicle. And we both stalled for a few moments considering the narrow entrance and exit respectively in front of us. I saw the three men including the driver sitting on the front side of the vehicle. It was an X position. I had to make an inverted forward slash to go in and he had to make the backward one. Since he could not have come out unless I would have gone in, I almost took that gentle curve to go in, when I saw that delivery van moving forward…there were just a few inches between my car and his van on that narrow community road- just one lane to go in and another to come out. I raised both my hands while looking at him in a gesture of shock “What are you doing? Can’t you see… I am right in front of you and you can’t go flying over me?” and went in, and he moved out. I wanted to stop my car on the road, just where I had made that hand gesture, get out of the car, and confront him for what could have costed me my life, and my kids their mom…but I thought the better of it. I did not even bother to see which company’s delivery vehicle it was, or the plate no. or anything.

I was not unnerved, in fact, I did not think about it at all until later that evening. It was that fraction of a moment. It would have been a terrible collision. He would have hit me straight. Who would have called the police? Would anyone have called the police soon enough? Would I have survived? If I did, would I have suffered any major injuries that would have crippled me for life…and I would have missed rolling down those windows and feeling the cool winter air on my face for rest of my life? Who would have picked the kids at home time that day? What if my husband was travelling at that very moment? Who else would the police have contacted? Who could I have trusted my kids with in that emergency? Who would have taken the trouble to coordinate everything in absence of my husband? Would I have cursed that moment when I decided to go to Spinneys for that bottle of milk? Without realising, I knew, I was thinking about the worst-case scenario in the UAE. With no real family around, we do not know who to turn to in times like these…and in death.

I realised how God had saved me that day, by a split second; and I realised how I cannot thank Him enough for saving not only my life but also of the people I love, my family. It was a miracle...really!

Every accident, on the road or otherwise, causes damage, usually irreparable. But I had always assumed that accidents occurred on highways, or roads where there was a reason for people to ignore the traffic rules (no cameras, for instance; or just an empty stretch- a tantalising, tempting stretch of road beckoning them to test their F1 skills!) or are caused by RTA taxi drivers (who stop anywhere on any road to pick or drop a customer!). But I now know - accidents can occur anywhere. There is no need to panic but there is a need to be ever vigilant when on the road, even if it is the road in front of your house! Idiotic, selfish, mean, dumb drivers are not yet extinct, you see!