I know nothing; and damn! that's ok?!

There used to be a time, in another millenium, when not knowing stuff was a problem.

My very being as a person would be brought into question by an over-imaginative, pernicious mind if I did not know stuff.

I was 20 and the goal of life was to know everything; not to be a know-it-all, but to be all-knowing.

A couple of decades later and I believe my midlife reality check has begun by the realisation that I probably know nothing. That’s just the reality check.

The midlife crisis stems from realising that it is ok to know nothing.

Poof!

What Dubai offers you is the opportunity to form a perfect little bubble in which to, with some comfort, live your life.

It’s not a matter of good or bad, in terms of quality of life in the bubble, it’s just that the more years your spend there, the more coalesced the bubble gets in terms of engendering a new perspective of life.

Leave Dubai and depending on where you go, the bubble can go with you – if you have enough of money.

Or then… poof! Bubble bursts.

I came back to India after 10 years in Dubai. Poof!

Creative fock - tock the block

One way of dealing with a creative block if you are a writer is to just write.

Never mind what tosh comes out, just use the flow of letters to clear out the blocked channels and get the creative juices flowing again.

All that is de rigueur if you are aware of a creative standpoint from which you are operating.

The problem arises if your entire creative perspective has been flushed down the drain.

Can I truly stare at the blank page of my being within and begin to create again from scratch?

I must. I have no choice.

India's version of Texas meets the Bronx

All the ATMs have cash. All the time. The wifi/data networks are bang on the money. 4G et al. The food is pretty amazing – choice and quality.

And then there is crime.

In Delhi, everyone seems to have access to a gun. One in three crime stories is about someone pulling a gun to settle a fight, a dispute or to start one.

Nobody has that ‘shock and awe’ reaction to either the gun fights, or the rapes. Oh yes, rapes continue.

Delhi has a Texas-meets-the-Bronx feel to it.

In Pune, a gun fight would be front page. Right?

Jeez, ji is in da house

Yes ji, no ji, three bags full ji.

The addition of the ‘ji’ to your vocabulary in New Delhi suddenly become part of your speech within, maybe, a couple of days of staying in India’s capital.

Whether you’re speaking in English, or trying to dodge speaking in Hindi, your answer will always be haanji (yes) or nahinji (no).

Ubiquitous is how the ji feels like two weeks in.

Oh, and the Hindi is so far removed from the bastardisation Anglo-Urdu-Marathi version spoken in Pune, that on the phone I genuinely cannot understand what is being said.

Haanji, it’s crazy.

Lucky, sucky Man Utd

Watching Manchester United play is frustrating, and at times, quite frankly disgusting.

My love for them is much like my wife’s love for me – it exists in spite of infuriating displays.

Daley Blind lost the ball every time in his first five touches.

Marcus Rashford did not have one good first touch the entire game.

If Celta Vigo were even a half decent team they would have destroyed United.

Ol’ Harry Redknapp said ‘give me a lucky manager over a great manager any day’.

Yesterday, I know what he meant.

Man Utd got lucky. Very, very, very… very lucky.

New Delhi, perspective

When you land in New Delhi for the first time in your life there is a sense that you, in fact, have indeed missed out.

Living all your India life in the nestled cocoon that Pune is (or used to be), Delhi beckons, challenges and without a doubt, broadens perspective.

The capital of India may not be a tourist must-see, but it certainly is a must-experience for every Indian.

When I was young I tossed back whisky and waxed eloquent that Pune was enough.

Now, in Delhi I am humbled. India is huge and I, really, am very small.

And the Prodigal hits ctrl alt del

What happens when your hit ctrl alt del on your life?
Your life, in action, lived so far shows up and you have to choose what to delete, what to keep running and overall, where the restart begins.
Fear is the key.
Know and recognise the fear, allowing it to rise freely and then letting it leave you as you exhale, is basically what I am doing these days.
The system may have crashed once too often.
Creativity is dead. Like a green blade of grass desperate for that rush of rain to renew life, you hit restart.
Begin.

The Prodigal Returns

There is no fatted calf – beef ban and all. In fact, fat, is just not on the menu.

Pune has grown and the returning prodigal has only grown... older.

Reality now has no comfort of an amber-coloured hue to soften the harshness of a messed-up past, tough present and a hazy future.

I look around – see, notice, try to understand, but for the most part fall short.

Returning home to my home Pune has been like a silent scream – all the noise is in your head.

What hasn’t changed? Two-wheelers still have permanent right of way on Pune’s roads.